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#told me to shut the fuck up even though i haven't said a word and just stared at him KSNSJSJS
taeyungie · 2 years
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why are men on the road so aggressive 🥴
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bingwriterxo · 1 year
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more than friends?
pairing: jenna ortega x reader
summary: in which jenna makes a startling realization after an argument
warnings: none
word count: 1220+
college au!
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"What the hell was that?" Jenna seethed as she pulled you into a random bedroom in the upstairs of the house party the two of you were at. 
"What was what?" you asked as you sat down on the edge of the bed while the brunette slammed the door shut. She began to pace around in front of you, brushing a hand through her hair to let you know that she was aggravated. 
"That--that show you were putting on down there!" She stilled and turned to you, and you could see the fire raging behind her eyes. It almost scared you a little. 
You shook your head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jenna."
The brunette took a step closer to you, leaning down so that her breath painted over your lips as she spoke. "That blonde bitch you kissed downstairs," she whispered before clenching her jaw shut.
Realization surged through you like a tidal wave, and you opened your mouth in an 'o' shape before furrowing your eyebrows. "That's what you're upset about?" you asked. 
"Obviously!" 
A strange sort of anger started to bubble in your stomach, and you pushed her lightly on the shoulder to get her out of your face, suddenly overwhelmed by her presence. "You have no right to be upset about that, Jenna," you said quickly. "First of all, even though I don't need to explain myself to you, I didn't even kiss her; we were just flirting. Secondly, what the hell would it have mattered if we had kissed?"
"What would it have mattered!?" she asked incredulously. "I was standing two-fucking-feet away from you! You think I want to see that shit?" 
You pushed yourself off the bed, rising to your feet. "And so what? You and I are just friends with benefits, Jenna, which is what you wanted." She seemed to shrink in on herself slightly at the sound of your words. You scoffed. "Yeah, remember that? When I told you about my feelings and you shut me down immediately? Well, this is what you get with friends with benefits, okay? You don't get loyalty, or exclusivity; you get me, sometimes in your bed at night, sometimes flirting with or kissing or fucking whoever the hell I want to flirt with or kiss or fuck! That's it. That's what you wanted." 
Jenna stared at you, silent, with a pained look across her face, and, for just a moment, you wanted to take everything you said back. You wanted to apologize, to say I'm sorry, it won't happen again, but you didn't. Instead, you took a step forward, bumped your shoulder against hers, and slipped out of the room without looking back, leaving Jenna alone.
* * *
"What's wrong with you?" Jasmin asked as she stepped into her and Jenna's dorm room. "You haven't left this room in, like, three days, and I'm starting to worry a little bit."
Jenna pulled the blankets away from her head and glared at her roommate. "Oh, now you're starting to get worried?"
The other woman shrugged. "Well, you know, we all have our bad days, but this seems like more than that." She threw her backpack on the ground and then hopped onto the brunette's bed, staring at her with soft eyes. "So, what's up?"
Jenna sighed. "I fucked up, Jas," she confessed, and her roommate quickly urged her to continue. "Y/N and I went to this party the other night, and I saw her flirting with this random person, and I just..."--she shrugged--"I got jealous, I guess."
"So, what's the problem?"
"I brought Y/N upstairs so we could talk, except I was kind of angry and rude, and then she got mad and said I had no right to be upset since we're just...you know, fucking around, basically, and I'm the one who chose for our relationship to be like that. Now she hasn't spoken to me since."
Jasmin hummed, took a moment to think, and then said, "Yeah, you fucked up."
Jenna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, thanks. I know that already."
"It's not too late to fix it, though, you know. I mean, you clearly like Y/N in a more than friends kind of way, or else you wouldn't have gotten jealous, and we all already know that she has feelings for you, so just go tell her and then you two will be all happy and stuff," Jasmin suggested. 
Jenna shook her head. "I don't like her like that."
Her roommate glared at her. "Yes, Jenna, you do. I mean, come on, it's obvious even without the situation at hand--you're always talking about her, you constantly want to be with her, you blush at even the slightest mention of her! You. Like. Y/N." 
The brunette paled as a chill ran through her, understanding spreading through her body and warming her soul. "Oh my god," she whispered. "I like Y/N."
* * *
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" you called out to whoever was pounding away on your apartment's front door. When you opened the door, you had expected to see one of your roommates' friends, and you felt your stomach drop when your eyes settled on Jenna. "Oh," you said, "hey."
She offered you a shy smile and asked, "Could I come in?"
You swallowed heavily, weighing your options, before opening the door slightly wider and inviting her inside. She stood in the entryway awkwardly as you locked the door back up, and then she followed you as you led her to the couch in the living room. You sat down first, and she sat beside you, though she was sure to leave a few feet of space between the two of you. 
"So, what is it?" you asked, your voice laced with a somewhat harsh edge.
Jenna inhaled deeply before spilling everything at once. "I wanted to apologize, for the other night, because you were right: it really wasn't my place to get upset since, yeah, we were only friends with benefits. No strings attached. So, I'm sorry. You were well within your rights to do whatever you wanted with whoever you wanted, and I shouldn't have gotten mad."
She exhaled sharply and continued. "But, I did get mad because...well, I was jealous, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I've never really been jealous before; I've never had someone to be jealous over. And now I have you, and...I can't really stand the thought of you being with anyone else because I only want you to be with me, because I like you."
You sat there, eyes wide and unblinking, a million thoughts running through your jumbled mind at once. Jenna watched you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction, but you weren't letting any emotions show on your face. 
After a few moments of sitting in uncomfortable silence, Jenna asked, "Are you going to say something?"
"Um," you started with before clearing your throat, "okay. So, you like me?"
Jenna nodded. "Yes. I do."
"And...what, the fight on Friday was just you--"
"Not knowing how to deal with my emotions," she finished. "And being an idiot." She grimaced. "I hope you can forgive me, for both the fight and for...hurting you, with the whole friends with benefits situation."
You nodded slowly. "Okay." You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head. "So, you want...more than friends with benefits? You want to be...together?"
"If that's--If you're okay with that," she said. 
You blinked once, then twice, and then you broke out into a smile. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."
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asliceofzosan · 7 months
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in which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie (sequel to Sanji witnessing the riceball incident in Shells Town)
Ribeye steaks piled one on top of the other, a massive helping of mashed potatoes with boatloads of gravy, salads, soups, and fancy dishes with names Zoro can't pronounce — all made up the massively long order list that he knows Luffy has not a single Berry to his name to pay with.
Zoro looks around the place, tuning out the story of the giant goldfish that Usopp has told them before, his eyes resting on the blonde waiter flitting about and flirting with every woman at every table.
Sanji was his name. Zoro didn't recognize it. But when he arrived to their table and saw Zoro, it looked like their resident waiter recognized him. Zoro's reputation in the East Blue is not a laughing matter, so it didn't bother him at first. But the way Sanji stared at him, wide blue eyes and with a touch of a smile on his lips, told Zoro that there's something a lot more than recognition swimming in that man's head.
He can't put a finger on what it is exactly though. It's driving him crazy.
"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?"
Sanji turns to him and nearly steps back in shock. Zoro quirks an eyebrow, confused and a little annoyed. He wore his best clothes today (Captain's orders). And he's pretty sure he even took his mandatory once-a-week bath before they went inside (Nami's orders). Still the waiter looked at him like Zoro had grown a second head. Like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.
"Maybe there really is something wrong with your eye," Zoro muses, crossing his arms as Sanji quickly straightens his posture and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Got a problem with me, waiter?"
Sanji coughs out a laugh. Zoro notes with narrowed eyes that there is the slightest tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Is he blushing? The fuck?
"None at all, sir. I think I was just seeing things." The look in the waiter's eyes betrays his statement but Zoro chooses to say nothing. With a practiced smile, he turns back to Nami and asks her how she'd like her water that makes Zoro stare at him this time like he's grown a second head.
"And um..." Zoro is surprised Sanji hasn't left yet and is once again directly addressing him. "We have a few specialty riceballs not on the menu today. I'll bring them out... on the house."
Without even explaining what the fuck that meant, Sanji turns on his heels and beelines straight for the kitchen.
"I think Nami's boyfriend might be yours too, Zoro." Usopp teases him with a snicker and the glare he gives him is sharper than the blades of his swords.
Now, here Zoro is, letting Ussop's words affect him more than they have any right to as he downs his third bottle of beer.
The specialty rice balls haven't come out yet. Zoro's starting to think it's just a sick joke. But he doesn't let it get to him. Or tries to. Why offer free food when you can't deliver on it? Fucking ridiculous. And no, it's not like he suddenly craved rice balls when the blasted waiter mentioned them. That's not it at all. Bullshit.
"Didn't the waiter said he's coming by with rice balls?" Zoro finally snaps and the conversation his crew was having died down immediately at his statement. Ah fuck. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut because Nami was now looking at him with a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike the one he gave her when he teased her before the meal.
"How would you like them, oh great swordsman?" She teases with a glint in her eye. She cups her cheeks with her hands in delight at the irritated snarl Zoro gives her.
"With or without seaweed?" Ussop chimes in.
"Cubed or crushed?"
"Fuck off," Zoro hisses between his teeth. Nami and Ussop share a look before bursting into laughter. Zoro looks over at Luffy who was swinging his feet and obliviously sipping his milk. When Luffy makes eye contact with him, he just tilts his head with wide blank eyes and it makes Zoro question all his life choices.
"You wanna ask him?" Luffy says, already clamoring over the booth and waving at the object of Zoro's unexplained irritation. Zoro sinks into the seat as Sanji approaches with the bill for their meal.
"Your bill, sir."
"Zoro's asking if you're gonna bring the rice balls you promised." Zoro just stared up at the ceiling and thought of a million different ways to cut a hole into the floor so that the ocean could take him.
There is a headache inducing silence that follows Luffy's question. Zoro can't help but finally look at the waiter and he doesn't know how to explain the feeling that bubbles up when they make direct eye contact. Maybe it's indigestion. It's probably indigestion.
Instead of bringing up the damn rice balls, Zoro just grabs the tray with the bill from Luffy's hand. Just as expected, his annoyingly endearing captain put down an I.O.U for the ridiculously long list of food they ordered. Several possible scenarios could happen from this. And Zoro doesn't want to think about Luffy wreaking havoc in someone else's kitchen.
With a deep sigh through his nose and a knowing look at Nami, Zoro wrote down his own name in place of Luffy's.
"Zoro, what—" Luffy almost took the bill back when Zoro stood up and handed it directly to the waiter, who looked just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.
"If your head chef's got a problem with that, he can talk to me directly. Tell him that for me, won't you?" Sanji takes the bill, reads what's written, and there's a phantom lurch in his chest that happens when Sanji looks up at him and smiles. Zoro doesn't want to describe it. He'll allow himself to firmly believe that it's a side effect of eating too much food. It's indigestion. You're just constipated. Never mind that the feeling is most prominent in his chest and not his stomach.
"Of course, sir." Sanji purrs and the sound runs like a cold river down Zoro's spine. There's a hint of mischief in the gleam of his visible eye. Every instinct in Zoro tells him it's dangerous. He should take his crew out of here, onto the Merry, and run.
But he stays rooted to the spot, wrist limp on the hilt of his sword, as he watches that damn waiter walk away from him.
"WHO THE HELL IS RORONOA ZORO?!"
The steady routine of washing the dishes helps quiet Zoro's racing mind.
It's a very welcome distraction. The clinking of the ceramic against metal utensils provides a cacophonous symphony that helps drown out all of Zoro's waking thoughts. The sooner he starts to think, the sooner he starts to notice how that stupid fucking waiter has just been sitting at the table behind him, cursing Zoro with his mere presence.
Scrub scrub scrub...
"You sure you don't want any help?"
Scrub scrub rinse...
"No."
Scrub rinse dry...
"I really have nothing better to do."
Zoro's eye twitches.
"Good for you."
A long silence follows this and Zoro thinks the waiter finally gave up. That was until...
"Are you still mad about the rice balls?"
"Oh my god!" Zoro nearly slams a pile of dishes onto the floor. He turns to Sanji, who is just casually smoking at the table, and stomps over to him. Once he was right in front of him, Zoro snarls at him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Talk about those damn rice balls one more time, I'm gonna chop your head clean off for them to use in tomorrow's ramen stock."
Sanji blinks, then turns his head to the side to blow smoke away from Zoro. Zoro tries to convince himself that he isn't staring at the way Sanji's lips purse around the cigarette in the process.
"I can still make you the rice balls," Sanji says without a single ounce of fear in his body. "I just couldn't do it while the old man was around." He then stands up and steps around Zoro with a practiced grace. "Are you willing to wait ten minutes?"
"I'm not hungry," Zoro hisses but his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble. He's been washing dishes for so many hours. He probably missed dinner.
Then, as Zoro straightens his posture, Sanji does it again — he smiles and Zoro doesn't know what to do.
"Sit." Sanji gently nudges a chair out with his foot. It lands perfectly in front of Zoro at a perpendicular angle. "I'll have them out in five."
"You said ten minutes." Zoro found himself saying, only to be contradictory. Sanji laughs this time and the resulting smile pierces Zoro's heart with a million cursed swords.
"When someone's hungry, I feed them." Sanji says simply and that's the statement that ends their conversation. Zoro still refuses to sit on the chair, instead finding himself gravitating towards the counter that Sanji was preparing his ingredients at and leaning against the marble.
Before Sanji found them at their table, he brought down a marine and a fearsome pirate with just his feet. Zoro was fascinated by his fighting style even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. But he's always been curious. Especially now, with Sanji whipping out the sharpest knives and using them effortlessly as Zoro would wield the Wado Ichimonji.
"You're good with knives," Zoro says before he could stop himself. Sanji chuckles.
"Of course, I am. I'm a chef. Best one in the East Blue."
"What's a chef doing waiting tables, then?"
"Cause I was kicked off the line this morning. It's a weekly occurrence, nothing special." The way Sanji scrapes his ingredients into a bowl betrayed how he felt about it despite his nonchalance. "I can cook better dishes than everyone in this damn kitchen but Zeff refuses to acknowledge that. It's always 'your food is crap', 'slice those carrots thinner', or 'needs more fucking oregano—"
Sanji throws the knife onto the cutting board, its tip now embedded neatly straight down the middle. It stood perfectly still, like it was afraid of what Sanji could do if he added more pressure. Zoro raised an eyebrow, looking up at the now irritated cook with a smirk.
"Sorry," Sanji mumbles, taking the knife and cleaning it carefully with a cloth. Zoro says nothing. He just props his elbow on the counter and places his chin into his hand as he watches Sanji in his element. Eventually, it's down to just shaping the rice balls with his hands and Zoro asks the question that poked at his mind during Sanji's mini outburst.
"If you're so dissatisfied cooking here why don't you just leave?"
Sanji pauses. His head is down, his blonde fringe obscuring one eye as his fingers twitch against the rice ball.
"It's not about that."
"Yeah?" Zoro leans as close as he could get with the counter between them. Sanji still refuses to look up. "A hot-headed cook who claims to be the best in the East Blue settling down here — where he is not head chef — is as contradictory as it gets."
"You don't know–" Sanji snaps but stops himself immediately. He looks up to glare at Zoro through narrowed eyes. "You don't know why I still stay."
"Enlighten me then, cook." Zoro leans his hip against the counter. "Because really, someone as good as you claim to be has got to have some ambitions. Dreams." Zoro holds the man's gaze. "Do you hate the old man?"
"No!" Sanji counters immediately. "The man fucking raised me. I owe him my goddamn life!"
"Owing him your life isn't the same as giving up your life to work at a restaurant that barely lets you cook."
"You don't know shit!" Sanji nearly slams his fist down on the counter, pointing a finger at Zoro with his face beet red. "This restaurant was his dream—"
"But is it your dream?"
Silence. Total utter silence.
Where color is nothing but a dark void of black and grey, a sea of blue greets him from the pages. Vivid pink skies and tangerine mangroves burst to life. All types of fish swim in his mind's eye but if he reaches out to touch them, it certainly should be real. A phantom breeze kisses his cheeks and water laps at his feet. He's drowning but he swims in delight. He's falling but he feels the clouds cushion him with warmth.
There is a vast ocean out there, one that contains delicacies and species from all four seas. Creatures of every kind, spices that have never been tasted.
The All Blue.
In Sanji's world of black and white — he strives to find the one place that's in screaming color.
There are tears in Sanji's eyes before Zoro could comprehend what was going on. But he wipes them away before he can get a good look at him. The kitchen was quiet around them. The only sound peeking through was the faint music from the bar outside. Though Zoro's heartbeat was louder in his ears than his own breathing.
But he could hear each footstep Sanji takes, the scrape of the plate as it's pushed in Zoro's direction, and the click click of Sanji's lighter as he helps himself to another cigarette. Zoro looks down and sees the rice balls presented in front of him — three heaping helpings, all coated in a different topping, all different flavors.
Zoro takes one.
And it's the best rice ball he's ever had in his life.
"I have a dream," Sanji murmurs, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One glance and Zoro could see that whatever his dream is... it still burns like molten lava in the heart of this chef. "I'd just rather give up on it than die searching for mine."
Zoro swallows, turns around, and takes the cigarette from Sanji. The ashes fall into his palm, its embers dimming as he squishes it between his fingers.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Zoro says, looking up to make eye contact with Sanji. He can see it almost immediately — the longing for something that seems near impossible to achieve, the acceptance that it's hopeless — but Zoro sees it, clear as day, that the flickering flame of hope still shines in Sanji's eyes. That he's just waiting for his sign to let it once again consume his soul in a roaring fire, brighter than even the sun could be.
Zoro wants to see him shine.
"Come meet my captain," Zoro instinctively wraps his hand around Sanji's wrist. Surprisingly, Sanji doesn't pull back. "I think he'd really like to get to know you."
Sanji doesn't protest.
Zoro takes the rice balls to go.
Never waste food.
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cheolinnie · 4 months
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back2u
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a/n; i like putting cute gifs and then writing abt sex like it's quite funny.
Smut, unprotected sex, pet names (love, baby, ,Princess)
description: you haven't seen Mark in the last 4 months, you were missing his smell, his touch, his presence, all of him.
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"I've missed you so so much" you told him, mark kicked the door shut with his foot, he then walked towards you; gently positioning you on the bed.
"I've missed you too baby" he said as he continued to kiss you, a soft breath escaped your lips as he dragged his lips away from yours.
His lips moved from the corner of your mouth down to your neck and collarbone. His cold fingers went underneath your his shirt to grasp your waist. You pulled the hem of his shirt, lifting it up quickly. The room was dark but Mark swore he could see everything in complete detail.
Suddenly, you felt his fingers tightened around your waist and pull you closer.
He kept kissing your body with wet kisses and then back to passionately kissing your lips. He put his thumbs inside the waistband of your shorts and slowly pulled them down along with your underwear.
Mark kissed your body upwards starting from your stomach to the side of your neck, all while he was taking off his pants and boxers. You hands immediately start stoking him, massaging your way around his slick tip, Mark cusses out.
He drops his head down as if trying to see through the dark room, wanting to see your pretty hands wrapped around his cock.
Mark grinds up against your palm, hips rocking forward. He pushes you to lie down on the bed as you wrap your legs around his hips. "Gonna let me fuck you princess?" Mark asks, his voice a little breathless.
"Fuck yes Mark!" Seeing you as a writhing mess beneath him wasn't something he's ever gonna get out of his head. His lips found your neck again slowly and your breath hitched in your throat. He felt much bigger than last time, or maybe its just been a long time since you felt him.
Mark moans as flips you over, now lying on your stomach. "Mhmm i missed your ass as much as i missed you." He grabbed your ass and massaged it while getting into position. "Mark please fuck me" you moved yourself a little closer to his cock as you were very impatient.
"Ready baby?" Mark asked to get your approval, "fuck yes" you moaned out as he slowly entered you. His cock not even half way in and and you clench around him huffing out loudly.
"Why... why are you so big? oh... oh my god." You couldn't even talk properly, as he pushed himself into you. "I just think it's been a long time baby" he just chuckles, he pulls half of his cock out of your throbbing pussy which is trying to swallow him back in. "fuckk mark you feel so good."
He thrusts back into you, your eyes rolling almost to the back of your head. "mmm you feel... good too baby." Mark sounded a little breathless as he thrusted into you faster and faster eachtime.
Though he can't really see how fucked out you look right now, he can feel your body starting to shake. "You gonna cum baby?" you raised your head a little bit from the bed to answer him, "mmm yea." Mark grabbed your waist and pounded into you more.
"Cum with me baby." He moans out loud as he feels your pussy clenching around him even more. You both finally reached your climax huffing and panting. Mark holds onto the side of your waist, slowing down his pace. He pulls out and gently flips you over so you can lie down on your back.
"You okay baby?" he asked as soon as you stopped shaking from the climax. "i think that's lowkey the best one we've had so far markie." He chuckles at your response "You really think that? then we should be apart more." You turn your head as soon as those words left his lips.
"fuck you no, we are NOT going to be apart anymore, this was already hell." Mark laughs and hugs you from the side as he kisses your shoulder. "Yes Ma'am, I will always be with you and come back2u"
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a/n: woahhhhhhh that was crazy, ngl this was in my drafts for months, weeks, days but its out of prison 🤩
so sorry if there were spelling mistakes, i wrote this with only 3 hours of sleep, bare with me 😭
hope u like it!
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scoonsalicious · 2 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 15, Undermined - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of SA, discussions of sexual situations.
Word Count: 1k
Previously On...: You went through Bucky's text history with Jade. It was... illuminating, but also soul-crushing. You're not sure how you're going to get past this.
A/N: Thank you all so much for the engagement you've been giving the story! It means so much to me to see everyone so invested! I love you all! Some of ya'lls theories are WILD, and I love them! Keep 'em coming! And if you've sent me a speculation or comment and I haven't replied, it only means that I can't respond without giving away too much information about what's to come, so I feel it's best for me to keep my trap shut; not that I don't appreciate and love you!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1 @les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
The next several weeks passed by quietly. Or, rather, as quietly as living in a towerful of superheroes could be expected to be. You and Bucky danced around each other in a strange sort of limbo since you had officially broken up–almost two months ago, now– no longer lovers, yet not quite just friends. It was difficult. It was painful. He would say something, or give you that look, and you’d be so tempted to melt into his arms. Hell, or rip off his fucking clothes. But you’d remember everything that had happened, the way your life had been completely unended in the span of an evening, and the urges would vanish like smoke in the wind, and the walls would return around your heart.
You’d wanted to ask Steve about what Bucky had said– about getting erections when he sparred, but he was still ignoring you, not wanting to engage with you in any form of conversation that didn’t directly concern Avenger work. It was beyond frustrating, the length his cold shoulder had gone on for, but you couldn’t force him to engage with you.
There was, however, one person you could ask, though you were fairly confident Bucky would be furious at you for doing so. Oh well, you thought. If he didn’t want you asking questions about it, he should have never given you reason to question the things he told you in the first place.
“Hey, Sammy,” you said, cornering your friend in the training room after he finished a run on the treadmill. 
“‘Sup, Baby Girl?” Sam wiped his brow with the hem of his shirt. “Come to watch Ole Sammy get all sweaty?”
“Ew, gross,” you shoved him playfully. “Not even a little bit. I have a question for you, though.” You handed him his water bottle, and he took it from you gratefully, chugging down a few swigs before looking back to you.
“Shoot,” he said. “I got all the answers.”
You chewed thoughtfully on your bottom lip, wondering how exactly you were going to word your inquiry. “You ever spar with Bucky?”
Sam slowly lowered his water bottle and eyed you suspiciously. “Why?” he asked you slowly.
“It’s a simple question, Sam,” you responded as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Have you sparred with him, or not?”
Sam narrowed his eyes, as though trying to determine whether or not you were luring him into some kind of trap. “I have,” he drawed out.
You raised a brow. “Anything… weird ever happen to Bucky when he really lets himself get invested in a fight?” you asked. “Anything… unusual?”
“So, he finally told you about that, huh?” Sam asked, mirroring your stance. 
“I’m gonna need you to be more specific, Sam.” You put all of your weight onto one foot. 
“Well, either you know, or you don’t,” Sam argued. “It’s not my secret to tell you.”
You were growing frustrated at his reticence to give you the information you were looking for. “Come on, Sam. Let’s just say Bucky told me about something that occasionally happens to him when he fights, but I don’t know if I can believe him or not. I’d ask Steve, but he’s not speaking to me at the moment, so you’re my only way of confirming if what he told me is true or not. I need you to be straight with me. Please.”
Sam studied you, his expression unreadable. “What the hell happened between the two of you, Pocket?”
“Nothing I want to talk about right now, Sam,” you told him, your impatience beginning to show. “Are you going to tell me what I need to know, or not?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said, finally giving in. “Alright. So, sometimes, when Tin Man really gets into the heat of it, he gets…” Sam coughed, clearly uncomfortable with the line of conversation, “excited.”
“Excited.” You rolled the word around in your mouth. “More specific, Sam.”
Sam rubbed his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Baby Girl. You gonna make me spell it out?” You nodded, eager for him to get on with it.
Sam’s eyes rolled heavenward, as though he were praying for the Lord to give him the strength to deal with you. “Sometimes he gets a fucking boner when he fights, alright? You happy now?”
You should be. You really should be. It meant there was one thing, at least, he’d been honest with you about. But it wasn’t nearly enough.
“Did he tell you why?” you asked, instead.
“You’re just asking me to break all kinds of confidences today, ain’t ya, Baby Girl?” You gave him a pointed look.
“Fine, fine,” Sam finally relented. “It was awkward as hell, the first time I noticed it happen, but Barnes said it was a left over from the shit Hydra did to him when they were programming him to be the Winter Soldier. They wanted to make him… excited by the fight, aroused by it.” Sam shook his head, disgusted by what his friend had endured. “So, they did all kindsa shit to merge the two– sex and violence, until his body couldn’t tell the difference between ‘em.”
You blinked once, twice, three times at Sam’s words. You supposed you should feel grateful– here was confirmation Bucky’d spoken the truth to you, and you were fairly sure that Sam wouldn’t have lied to your face to save Bucky’s ass. And yet… and yet. Sam, and Steve, as well, had been privy to this part of Bucky’s past that he’d felt the need to keep from you. Even that thought brought you more conflict: if it was something Bucky had shared with Sam and Steve, it made the fact he’d shared it with Jade less significant. But, the angry voice in the back of your head insisted, he’d still chosen not to share it with you. And that still stung. Your thoughts just spun in circles.
“Got anymore horrifically awkward questions for me?” Sam asked, and you realized you’d been silent a bit too long.
“No,” you said, shaking your head as though to clear your thoughts. “Uh, that was it. Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it.” You turned to leave the training room.
“I’d say ‘any time, Baby Girl,’” Sam called after you, “but that was awkward as hell and I sure as shit never want to talk about Bucky’s erections with anyone ever again!”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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blossomingmoonlight · 2 months
Text
Rival Coryo teaches you a lesson
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Sorry haven't posted in a sec, school is screwing me over with the short time they give us to study for tests so I am fucked :)
Coryo x f!rival!reader
Summary: After years of competing with Coryo and you pissing him off, he decides to shut you up
Warnings: pure porn obviously, fighting in class, making out, coryo being pissed, handjob, oraljob (both m and f), vaginal and reader pushing coryo over the edge
Word count: 2155
Your hand shot up in the air the second the teacher asked the question, however your classmate, Coriolanus Snow, did not go down without a fight. The entire class had been you two fighting over answers and questions and the tension was running high. The teacher was very much getting annoyed. This was not a rare occurrence, for years you and Coriolanus were fighting to be the best and now over that stupid Plinth prize. Even though your family was pretty well off thanks to your father having invented a new way to build more modern and stronger peacekeeper bases and your mother working for the president himself, you wanted that fucking prize, because there way now way in hell Coriolanus Cocky Snow was getting it. You didn’t even know why he wanted it, the Snows were still rich too, right? 
With 15 minutes left of class, social studies in particular, you were close to snapping at him. The last three questions went to him, you were boiling. Finally after giving another classmate that you hated, Arachne Crane, a turn, you were allowed to answer again. So with a smirk you told the teacher the obvious answer and glanced at Coriolanus to get his reaction. You didn’t know exactly why but you loved nothing more than hearing the teacher say, “Good job miss (Y/l/n).” and then having Coriolanus look at you completely pissed off. You didn’t know if you just enjoyed seeing him mad or if it slightly turned you on, knowing you made him feel something.
And of course he gave you that snide you loved, you smiled back at him. He was sitting about two seats away from you to your left. With your two unlucky classmates sitting in between the heated moment. You could tell he was about to snap, you just had to push him a bit more and your goal for today had been accomplished yet again. “Better luck next time Snow.” You grinned, quiet enough for your teacher not to hear as he continued the class. He looked at you pissed and suddenly stood up smacking his hands on the desk. “Don’t start  (Y/l/n).” He sneered, but you just smiled. “And there he goes, you know I really thought you were more composed than that.” You smiled. You could hear your teacher sigh as he knew that shit was about to go down yet again. 
“Miss (Y/l/n), mister Snow, please stop this childishness at once or I will remove you from this class.” He said, now crossing his arms at the front of the room. Your classmates eyes were on you two and no one else dared say a word. “Really? You’re one to talk.” Coriolanus snapped back, now turning to you. Your two classmates lowering their heads and looking at each other awkwardly. “It’s okay Coriolanus, sometimes you make mistakes, I just prefer not to.” You said still looking him in his eyes with your perfect smile showing, knowing this would only piss him off more. 
For some reason no one could make his blood boil quite like you. There was something about you he hated, maybe it was how smart you were, or how…pretty, no it was how you were competition, a threat to him getting that precious prize that would save his family.
“Watch your fucking mouth.” Finally, he messed up. You had to hold in the huge grin that was growing on your face. “All right, that's enough, out! Both of you!” The teacher was over you two ruining the class yet again. Both? What the hell, it was only your intention to send Coriolanus out, not you as well. Shit. This would not look good. 
You grabbed your bag as did Coriolanus and walked after him down the steps and out of the classroom. As soon as the door got shut behind you, Coriolanus stormed up on you. “Good fucking job (Y/ln)! Do you know how fucking annoying you are! You are destroying my chance of getting that prize!” He yelled. “Gonna cry about it?” You smiled, now that you got sent out together, you wanted to see how far you could push him when you two were alone. Seeing as normally you just got separated or Coriolanus or you got individually sent out. “Why? Why do you have to be such a bitch.” He seethed.
“Oh wow, I did not know you would go that far Snow. You are lucky we're alone here. But be careful, someone might pass by and hear you.” You continued, you relished in the fact that his slightly messed up curls, flaring nostrils and balled fists were all your doing. “You’re right.” He said, then he grabbed your wrist and pulled you with him to an empty classroom. Closing the door behind him after pushing you in, he walked up to you again, making you bump against the desk behind you while backing away from him.
“Tell me, right now, in my eyes, why you are doing this.” He said in a low tone. “What do you mean?” You asked almost unknowingly. “You know what I mean, why do you seek to piss me off everyday.” He looked you in your eyes, you couldn’t lie to yourself, his piercing blue eyes were quite intimidating up close. “Does there have to be a reason? You piss me off so I piss you off. And don’t lie, you love it.” You said that last part in almost a whisper, being so close to him you didn’t know whether to slap him or kiss him.
“Fuck you.” He hissed, grabbing your face with his big hand. “Maybe you should.” You mumbled, looking down as his eyes were suddenly too much. “What did you just say?” He pulled your face up to make you look at him again. “I said maybe you should.” He looked at you with eyes widened slightly but with your face in his hand he pulled you towards him, pressing his lips on yours roughly. You kissed him back almost immediately and moved your hands to rest on his back. The kiss got heated fast and soon he moved his hands to your ass and held you against him tightly. 
Cleary he was liking this too as you felt his hard cock against your stomach. He bit your lower lip and you let out a soft moan. Then he picked you up and set you on the desk, his lips never leaving yours. A metallic taste filled your mouth and you realized he had bitten your lip so hard it started to bleed a little bit. You pulled slightly off him and licked the blood off your lower lip. He looked at you in a trance and now moved to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, it hurted a bit, but that’s why you loved it. You moved your hand over his prominent bulge and massaged it until he let out a groan against your neck. “Get on your fucking knees.” He commanded, his voice sounded lower than usual. You looked at him with a smile. “Make me.” 
He gripped your neck and waist and pulled you off the desk. Then grabbing the back off your neck instead, pushed you to your knees. “Now suck my dick you fucking slut.” You wanted to fight back, get him riled up again, but you wanted to taste him so badly you decided against it. Instead you moved your hands to the academy rouge skirt and undid it, making it fall to the ground. Next you moved to the zipper of his pants, unzipping it and pulling his pants down. You did this while keeping your gaze on him, he looked down at you hungrily. You moved to kiss over his underwear, making sure to go from the bottom of his eight inches to his tip. He hung his head back at this but quickly looked at you again.
“Stop teasing.” He groaned. You could almost taste the precum leaking through his boxers. You pulled down his boxers and released his aching length. Licking his tip, you kept eye contact with him. Finally taking him in your mouth, you sucked on his tip and swirled your tongue around it too. He watched you with lips parted, breathing heavily. You took him deeper and started to move your head. The action made him move his hands to your hair, messing it up by the way he was gripping you tightly. “Fuck just like that.” He groaned, after a while he started fucking your mouth, too impatient to wait. He wanted nothing more in that moment to see your eyes water and to see you gag around his dick as he shot his load down your throat.
And soon enough he couldn’t hold back anymore, you could tell he was close by the way he sped up his movements and the way his body tensed up. So you decided to massage his balls too, which sent him right over the edge. He came down your throat with a loud moan and made sure you drank every drop. “That’s it, make sure you swallow every drop you little slut.” Even though his words were quite demeaning, you loved it, you loved when he got mad and man handled you, you loved how he spat degrading words at you. You felt your own arousal soaking your underwear. You couldn’t wait any longer for him to touch you. 
He pulled you back up and kissed you again. “Get back to that desk and bend over.” You did as you were told and bent over the desk you were sitting on moments ago. Coryo came up behind you and lifted your skirt, noticing the soaked panties you were wearing. “Shit, that turned you on baby, did you like sucking my dick that much, calling you a slut?” He almost laughed, so pathetic, so eager to please. He pulled your panties down and sank to his knees this time. Entering his middle finger in your wet hole, making sure to go as deep as possible and making sure to hit your g-spot. You moaned at the sensation and grabbed the desk tightly, you know he was about to fuck you up.
He started moving his finger, slapping your ass with his other hand from time to time as the slapping and smacking noises of his finger and hand filled the classroom. After a while he added a second finger and moved them more sideways so he could lick your clit at the same time. The sensations were so intense you screwed your eyes shut and kept moaning his name over and over, the pleas and the whimpering making his cock hard all over again. And in no time he had you cumming all over his tongue. By the way he felt your walls clench around his fingers when you came, he couldn’t wait to fill you up with his dick.
“Just wait until I fuck you dumb baby, I bet you won’t be bothering me all day because your brain won’t even be working anymore after I fill you up.” He smiled. He grabbed the base of his hard cock and moved the tip against your wet slit. He could easily slip in by how wet you were from your orgasm and he groaned at the feeling. “You’re all mine, this pussy is all fucking mine.” He started moving roughly, the desk squeaking and bumping against the floor, as you held on tight. “Fuck, Coryo, please give it to me hard, please!” You cried out, somehow even the slapping of your skin turned you on even more. As he fucked you hard against the desk he smacked your ass again, and again, and again, until it was completely red and hot from where he hit you, and even then you begged for more.
His hand instead moved to your throat, pulling you up from the desk as he continued pounding into you. “Please Coryo, I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.” You moaned and your hand moved to your clit, but he stopped you. “Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself.” He ordered in your ear. He moved his free hand to your clit and rubbed it fast. He now pounded into you hard and deep and his movements became sloppier. After a couple more thrusts you came hard around his dick, clenching your walls around him, making him cum too, completely filling you with his seed. Making sure he got it all into you, he gave you a couple more thrusts before he finally pulled out, leaving you sore and in bliss. When you both calmed down a bit, you pulled your clothes up and fixed your hair, Coryo doing the same. And let’s just say that you were now even more motivated to piss him off.
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stormberry-12 · 6 months
Text
faceless // P3: yes sir. negative ~ charles leclerc x reader
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader
includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n". So sorry this took so long, I've had some mega writters block and no motivation really. But I hope it's still good and thank you so much for all the kind feedback, it means a lot! &lt;3
Bold Italics are the past.
Normal Italics are thoughts.
summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
"No fucking way mate," Lando choked out his words, "Holy fuck-" 
Lando's face had never looked so shocked, he scratched the inner corner of his left eye as if he thought he was seeing something. And when his eyes focused back on you, you could see his mind filling with questions. His eyes flickered from the helmet sitting on the ground to the tears brimming in your eyes.
"Oh my god," you sobbed into your hands as your mind began to race. 
Should you run away? 
'Oh, sorry Lando, no you must have seen my celebrity doppelganger in the suit earlier. It wasn't me-"
"No wait, don't cry-" he protested, rushing over and crouching down next to you on the ground, "You're my idol, I'm like obsessed with your driving, you're frickin' amazing-"
"Oh, shut up Lando!" you snapped, instantly feeling bad for yelling in his face. He was silent for a moment, not taken aback by your outburst though. "Sorry," you whispered.
You looked up to see him scanning your face intently. "You haven't told Charles yet," he said matter-of-factly like he could read your life all of a sudden.
You shook your head.
"Who else knows?"
"Just you and Christian-"
"Heh, I'm so special,"
"Lando stop!" you cried quietly, feeling more tears forming. "You weren't supposed to find out and I'm so going to get fired for this-"
"Why would you be fired?" he asked,  "You're the driver keeping Red Bull afloat right now while Max is shittin' the bed,"
"Because. It's part of my contract that no one knows who I am,"
"Who came up with that shit?"
You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "What shit?"
"Your contract rules," he said.
"We both did. I didn't want to be in the media, I've never liked it. And Christian just agreed I guess-"
"But you and Charles were just in a video together, you've been doing media anyway," He chuckled dryly.
True.
"And you and Charles love each other, I can see it in your eyes, I don't think the media content is going to stop anytime soon. Frankly, they will ask you to do more now that you've already agreed once."
Also true.
"I understand that privacy is important to you but..."
"Yeah, I know, I know... you're right," you said, wiping tears away from under your eyes, thinking back to the tweets you had just read, "After the video went out I was expecting so much worse but nothing happened, I might need to take a chill pill."
"Maybe..." he said slowly. "And why should-"
"-I care what people on the internet think of me?" you stole the words right out of Lando's mouth, a smile growing on his face. "Charles tells me that every time I don't help with his Twitch streams,"
"Right, you're thinking like a media-trained F1 driver already!" he grinned. "Except, I don't think you're getting enough credit for your racing because you keep that helmet on all the damn time. Just one guy's opinion though,"
You hummed in response, getting lost in your own mind again.
"I won't tell a soul, I promise," He crossed his hand over his heart, "Scouts honor,"
For some reason, you felt you could trust Lando. You gave him a small smile and let your shoulders relax, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. He stood up and offered you his hand, you took it gladly and rose to your feet. "I think you should talk to Christian about it,"
"I will, thanks Lan,"
"No problem," he winked, slowly stepping away, "And for what it's worth I truly meant what I said before. You're amazing, don't let them push you around or tell you otherwise. You gotta pave the way for all the little girls out there."
That shook you to your core. 
You had never thought about your career that way and it bothered you how oblivious you had been.
How could you not realize the impact you could be making for the girls who dream of racing just like you had? Who cared what some old guy on the internet thought about women in motorsport, he needed to grow up. And you needed to make a difference. It was all sliding into place.
Also, since when had Lando been that well-spoken in his life?
After a quick 'See you on track,' you and Lando parted ways towards your respected garages. Pulling your helmet over your face, you stepped out of the alleyway and marched towards the blue and red signs of the Red Bull garage.
Christian gave you a look through your visor as you walked up to the car, you just nodded, he hated it when you were late. You climbed into the car and tried to shake the nerves out of your body, you could see a camera in your peripherals, panning the garage and landing on you. 
Pave the way Y/n.
This newfound purpose gave you anxiety but at the same time a different kind of drive to your craft. You could feel the car hum beneath you, grateful for the all-clear from the team, you exited the garage to start warming up your tires.
"Radio check, you ready for this?"
"Yep. Copy." 
Shit, that sounded forced didn't it? Why were you acting so weird? Be yourself Y/n.
"Ah, not going to humor me today? That's too bad mate," Rick chuckled.
"Don't know why but it smells like barbeque in the car,"
"You've got a problem, change your fucking carrrr,"
"No, you change your car because Checo has been saying the car is fucked-"
This had Ricky howling with laughter over the mic.
"Okay, that's enough lads." Christian stepped in, pulling the plug on you and Rick mocking him.
"Fun police..." Ricky sighed.
"I'm not a fun police, do your job Richard."
"You are a fun police, I have it on record. I hAvE it, I hAve iT pRiNteD oUt!"
"66."
"Sorry." you replied, giggling to yourself and waving back at Lando as you passed.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
"Damn it!" Charles cursed stomping towards the Ferrari garage. He had just spun out two races in a row and had to, unfortunately, retire from the race.
Walking into the garage he could feel all eyes on him as he stuffed his gloves and balaclava into his helmet angrily. A few engineers and his trainer gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he walked past, but no one dared to interact with Charles while he was this livid.
He needed y/n.
She was who he always needed after a bad race, he walked to his driver's room remembering the spin-out from his previous race hoping that y/n would actually be there this time.
"Where's y/n?"
"I don't know mate, sorry. She disappeared a while ago," an engineer named Fred shrugged.
But of course, as he opened the door she was nowhere to be found once again. Thoughts ran through his mind a hundred miles per minute
Had she always left after he got into the car and never actually watched him race?
Is he not as important to her as she made it seem?
Was she just in this for the money like a few of the girls he had been with before?
No, y/n isn't like that. He told himself, but still, he felt that pang of uncertainty in his chest. It would certainly be the reason why whenever he asked for her opinion on his performance it was almost as if she didn't remember what happened, she would just nod, smile, and agree with whatever he said.
Charles sat down on the couch and shut the door to his room. The TV had the race on and he watched the 19 remaining cars complete lap after lap. 
He couldn't watch this anymore...
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"Ohh! That was a nasty hit from Verstappen from behind- SOMEONE HAS SPUN INTO THE WALL AND IT LOOKS TO BE THE OTHER RED BULL!"
"Oh my, it is! I can tell you right now Crofty, Christian Horner is not going to be pleased about that,"
"The race has just been red-flagged and we are currently awaiting more news on the second Red Bull driver. Here's a replay, there's Max Verstappen in third and his teammate ahead of him in second."
"And Verstappen was told to hold position because both drivers were in the podium places, Max is slightly slower than his teammate with very worn tires, but he pushes them anyway and tries to go for the very forced overtake. And there it is! Now why does he swerve into his teammate?!? This is mind-boggling to me-"
Charles looked up from his phone and back to the television. A bright 66 is painted on the Red Bull that is in pieces on the edge of the track. And as the camera zooms into the smoking race car, the eerie silence in Charles's driver's room makes his chest tighten slightly.
"Oh dear, it seems we have no verbal conformation from the driver so as you can see the medical car has made it's way to the scene."
Charles watches the unconscious driver slowly get pulled from the car and layed on a stretcher right there on the side of the track. They lift the visor of his helmet and shine a light across the driver's face as their eyes flutter awake. Beautiful eyes that Charles had engraved in his brain from the moment he met her.
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@remuslupinsbtch@callsign-scully @spermdonationcenter @ferraribabe @jjsprobablywrong @fayetheenthusiast @tillyt04 @iwouldkillformarvel @leclercsluv @deffonotab @ghosttwit @clechairluvbot @roseamongthorns13 @ravenqueen27
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pandorasprongs · 2 months
Text
CHAPTER FIVE | this is what it feels like.
'it's nice to have a friend' masterlist + playlist | previous chapter
PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 5.0k
SUMMARY: reader is starting to forgive jamie, even going to a charity gala together.
WARNINGS: language, mentions of what happened in amsterdam
A/N: yay! welcome back to me, i guess HAHAHA sorry for going ia for how many months, life just got in the way and i wasn’t able to make time for writing. i’m a bit rusty at this, but this is an extra long chapter and is mostly fluffy (at least, imo), so i hope you guys enjoyed it! we’re down to the last two (maybe three?) chapters of our story, which i hope you all will like :) see you then and thank you again for waiting!
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Your relationship with Jamie did start getting better. Slowly, but surely. It wasn't the same as the past few months, though. That repair of your relationship was built on denial and was bound to come crashing down like it did. 
You were still talking, but he wasn't coming over every weekend anymore. He was the one who suggested it too, so you wouldn't feel pressured to decide if you forgive him just yet. He wasn't pushing for an immediate answer either and he was making that clear with how he was acting.
He sometimes sends you a message just to check in and your replies were short, but not apathetic. You'd do the same too, usually after his matches, specifically when it ended on a loss, since most of them were as of recent. What was it, seven matches at this point?
The loss at the Man City game was especially painful, but after you saw the article about Zava's retirement, you had hoped that some part of Jamie was relieved about it all.
Your suspicions are confirmed when you hear Jamie knocking at your door. You open it and instantly get blinded by the light. "Fucking hell."
"Shit, sorry," Jamie exclaims, shutting off his headlamp. Once the light is gone, you finally get a clearer look at the footballer. He was in a grey hoodie which was starting to get all sweaty, and was currently jogging in place. "Went out for a workout with Roy before dinner, and we went pretty far. He already went home though."
You knew where Jamie lived and if he had run that entire length, you don't know how he's not passed out at your doorstep. "Congrats, I think. Why'd you pass by?"
"I wanted to see you," he answered, a little out of breath. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip at that. "If that's not weird."
"No, it's not," you answered quickly, a smile creeping on your face. "D'you wanna come in? I made some pasta if you haven't eaten yet." You offer without thinking but don't retract it in any way. Things like these would help you bond again right? And after seeing Jamie give you a genuine smile and a soft look with his eyes, your worries instantly dissipate.
So now you're having dinner with Jamie and barely any words are spoken, until he mentions, "I'm going to Amsterdam in a couple of weeks. We're having a friendly against Ajax."
"Amsterdam?" Maybe you should've hidden the worry in your voice better.
As far as you know, Jamie had a complicated relationship with that place. You don't know what happened, never wanting to press for too many details, but the first time he went there with his dad, your best friend came home a shell of himself.
You headed over there the moment your mom told you he was back and while you half-expected Georgie to turn you away in case his dad was still there, what you ended up seeing was worse. You found Jamie lying down in his bed, just staring at his ceiling. When you called out to him, he made no move to acknowledge that he had heard you.
You were fourteen and uncomfortable with emotions, but you knew you needed to do something for him. You made multiple attempts to try and get a verbal response from Jamie, but it fell on deaf ears.
It was only when you asked if you could lie down next to him did he finally move. He turned to face the wall and his back towards you, but you didn't say anything about it. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him.
"If you don't want to talk about what happened, it's okay," you whispered. "I'll just stay here with you."
In one swift move, Jamie turned around and pulled you into a hug. It was almost instinct that you pulled him closer.
You don't really know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough that you started to get sleepy and eventually drifted off. The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed. Your grogginess quickly turned into confusion.
It would've turned into panic soon if Jamie hadn't walked back into the room as he dried his hair with his towel.
"Oh, you're awake," He said softly. From his voice alone, you wouldn't have been able to tell that he spent that night crying, if not for the bags under his eyes betraying him. The swelling had gone down from the cold water, but the redness was still there.
You don't say anything at first, unsure of how to proceed. But Jamie breaks the tension by asking, "Do you wanna have breakfast before you go back? Smelled mum's cooking from the hallway.”
"Okay." Jamie pulls you up from the bed but doesn't let go of your hand as you head down the stairs. He squeezed it tightly as you walked into the kitchen, his own way of saying thank you.
That's how the two of you always were. Talking about your feelings was never a strong suit, but that didn't mean you weren't there for one another. It's how you dealt with hard times as kids, but maybe it was time to ditch that as adults. Or at the least, work on expressing yourselves better.
As if Jamie could read your mind, he gives you a reassuring look, "I don't really think about that trip anymore. Don't really remember much of it either. I just remember the second time. When we were 16 right?"
"Oh yeah," You chuckle at the reminder. Jamie's mom had planned a trip for the two of them to Amsterdam and your parents just happened to also be figuring our your own summer holiday plans. 
The five of you spent a week there going on tours, visiting museums, and all the usual tourist activities. One of the pictures you still had of you and Jamie was one your dad took when you visited some tulip fields. Jamie had his arm around your waist and both of you were holding stroopwafels, impatiently waiting to eat them. 
A group of old ladies passed by as the photo was being taken and thought you were a young couple, which both of you were quick to deny. Things were only awkward for about twenty minutes till Jamie started chasing after your stroopwafel because he had already finished his.
"That was pretty fun, wasn't it?"
"Mhm," Jamie says as he continues to eat. "I still remember all the facts you made me memorize. Might try and annoy Roy with them."
The two of you continued to talk that night and for the first time since that night in Nelson Road, being with Jamie didn't put a pit in your stomach. There was no longer a nagging voice in your head reminding you of the past or the rising feeling of resentment when he'd joke about the past few years. Instead, you were just content and happy to be there with him.
When you finished your meals, you suddenly got a waft of Jamie and almost gagged. "Oh my God, you definitely need to shower."
Jamie pulled his hoodie up to his nose and cringed. "Right. I guess I should head home now."
"No. I am not letting you out into the streets of London smelling like that. You can shower here," you offer and without giving Jamie a chance to respond, you start walking over to the bathroom.
Jamie lagged behind a bit but caught up as you pulled an extra towel from the cabinet. "You can go to the guest room for spare clothes. Dad leaves a bunch of them here when they come over. Oh, and slippers too if you want to give your feet a rest." The footballer gratefully takes the towel and heads into the bathroom. 
When you hear the water start, you move to walk back to the living room when you pass by your bookshelf once again, the empty spaces between your books glaring at you. You head into your room and open your closet to pull out the pictures. You pick up the one from Amsterdam, from your graduation, and from your 10th birthday, and scatter them around the shelf.
You go get ready for bed and change into your pajamas before going back to the living room to wait for Jamie. After 30 minutes — or an episode and a half, — you hear him call out your name.
You find Jamie in the hallway in one of your dad's giant grey shirts and sweatpants. When you approach, he finally asks, "Have these always been here?"
He points towards the frames and you realize that despite the number of times Jamie's been in your flat, he's never looked at the top of your bookshelf.
"I put them there pretty recently." You admit before turning towards the footballer. 
Jamie catches your eyes and seems to be debating whether to say something. He finally speaks up, "So I take it you've..." but he trails off, leaving you to finish it.
"I forgive you. Well, I think I’m starting to," you start. "I guess these past few months, I've been compartmentalizing my anger towards you and that wasn't fair. I know neither of us is particularly good at expressing our feelings, but we should've talked about this back when we saw each other again. That's my fault, I admit and I'm sorry. But I'm happy now, spending time with you and I don't have this sinking feeling that it'll all go to shit anymore. So yeah, I think I forgive you, Jamie."
You give him a wide smile and before you know it, Jamie wraps his arms around you tightly. Your smile only grows wider as you pull him closer. 
This is what you've missed all these years. Being so comfortable and safe with Jamie, that him randomly hugging you doesn't take you by surprise anymore. You're content and happy. And you have Jamie, your Jamie, back.
He breaks apart from you and the two of you walk back to the living room, the sitcom still playing on the TV. You expected him to make his exit by now, but seeing as you've just made up, Jamie felt confident enough to stick around a bit longer. He takes a seat across from you on the couch. Maybe it was because he was fresh out of the shower and no longer wearing sticky clothes, but he felt freer than ever.
Jamie glanced down at his phone at notifications from the team group chat and suddenly remembered another reason why he passed by your apartment. "Are you doing anything Friday?"
The last time Jamie asked you that, it ended with one of the worst outbursts you've ever let out, but you tried not to be reminded of that. Besides, you trusted that he'd keep his word; he wouldn't break your heart once again.
"Not really. My lectures are all in the morning that day. Why?"
"There's this charity ball that my boss does every year and I was looking for a plus one," Jamie explained slowly, before turning to you to see your reaction. "If you want. You know, as friends."
You don't know what stunned you more: the way your heart swelled when Jamie asked you to go with him to an event or the sinking feeling that appeared when he added the 'as friends' part. All this tension and ghosting these past few weeks made you forget all about those pesky, jittery feelings that you still had for him, but now that the dust had settled, they were coming back.
You try to ignore it, just for this moment, and prepare to answer him. But the more you thought about this "charity gala," the more you realized what you were about to agree to.
"Wait, is this the thing where people bid on football players for dates?" You remember seeing an article on it a few years back where three women got into a bidding war for Jamie. "Fucking hell, if you're just doing this to stage another bidding war for you, then—"
"No! 'Course not! You kept saying before how you want a reason to dress up!" Jamie's quick to defend himself and you fall back into your seat. "Plus, I can't have Richard setting me up on yet another disastrous date, I just can't." 
You say nothing, absorbing his plea, but then watch as Jamie's expression turns mischievous. He teasingly asks, "Why? Would you actually bid on me? You're already spending time with me for free." He playfully elbows you and you take in a whiff of the lavender-scented body wash you kept in the guest bathroom.
You roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Christ, and they should be paying me for it, too." You reply, but you avoid eye contact with Jamie knowing how easily you'd break into laughter if you did.
"Fine, I'll go with you." You finally agree and before Jamie can celebrate your response, you add on. "But, you owe me a date, too. To Liv's wedding."
Jamie takes a second to reply, and you worry your usage of the word "date" threw him off. But quickly enough, his mischievous smile returns and he agrees, "Alright, it's a deal."
Neither of you mention the gala again till Jamie finally decides he has to get going — "It'll be worse for me if Roy gets to my house and I'm not there," — and says he'll send you the formal invite when he gets home.
It only sinks in when you're getting ready for bed that you're actually going to a formal gala. With Jamie. As his (friendly) date. Next week. What a way to start the new era of your friendship, right?
You wonder how exactly he'd introduce you to the rest of the people there. As his childhood friend? His date? Every option made you feel jittery inside, and you have a hard time accepting that it's possible you're falling for Jamie once again. 
The first time you ever found him attractive was at the ripe age of 16, after locking eyes with him when he was celebrating one of his team's wins. It was that summer of growth spurts and you started to see what everyone else did; Jamie Tartt, your best friend, was fucking fit. It only took a year till you fully accepted it, but ultimately decided to never act on it. Well, aside from that one time, which neither of you brought up again after the morning after.
It took another two years before you gave up on those feelings and buried them deep down, or at least tried to. But allowing Jamie's friendship back into your life brought those feelings back up to the surface. 
So, the week went by quickly and you were now waiting in your apartment in a cropped silk camisole, high-waisted black trousers, and wedge heels that Liv let you borrow, pacing a hole into your floor. All you did with your hair was pin the side bangs away from your face and you hope that's enough.
You hear a knock on your door and you almost trip on the bottom of your pants to open it. You find Jamie in an almost identical outfit to the one he used for his date before, except in a different color. His hair had been slicked back, reminiscent of his older hairstyle but the highlights made the look pop more.
When his eyes land on you, Jamie takes a second to scan you before exclaiming, "Fucking hell."
With a teasing tone to try and make yourself feel more at ease, you ask, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
Jamie looks back up at your eyes and smiles, "You look great." You don't detect a hint of banter from the guy which makes you feel warm inside, until he adds, "Though, I half expected you to wear your dress from our year 12 formal."
"Jamie, I swear I can still find something else to do tonight." You threaten but are unable to stop the smile creeping up on your face.
Jamie just chuckles and takes hold of your hand as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Come on," He realizes what he's just done and pauses to see your reaction, but when you tighten your grip on his hand, he continues, "Need to get there early so they don't swarm me for pictures." You roll your eyes as the two of you head out of the building.
You actually did get to the venue quite early, since the photographers were still setting up the booth and so the two of you walk over to two ladies, one of whom you recognize as Keeley Jones. After he introduces you, — as his friend and plus one, no mention of the word "date" — you soon find out that the taller one is Rebecca Welton, the owner of AFC Richmond.
"Wow, so you two practically control Jamie's career. Blink twice if you need me to take him off your hands." You lean in towards the two of them but speak loud enough for Jamie to hear and he pulls you back to his side as you laugh. The two women chuckle and share a look between them that you don’t know them well enough to understand, so instead you brush it off.
Jamie gets called for photos and Rebecca leaves to greet the guests heading inside the venue, so you're left standing with the PR manager of the team. As you watch Jamie cycle through various poses, Keeley leans in to ask you, "So, how long have you known him?"
"Well, I met Jamie when I was seven, but when I went off to uni and he joined Man City, we kind of drifted apart and didn't really talk for the next few years." That was basically the truth, anyway. "But I went to one of the Richmond games and we bumped into each other."
"Well, I'm glad the two of you met again. Honestly, Jamie's become much more tame recently. He hasn't had any Twitter feuds or issues in weeks. Makes my job a lot easier." You chuckle, knowing that instead of fighting back, Jamie ends up just complaining about it to you. She adds, "You must be a good influence on him."
"People have been saying exactly that since we were kids, so maybe it is true." You reply and Keeley gives you a wide grin.
When you head into the venue, there are already a few guests settling down in the area. You recognize some of them as footballers, — both from AFC Richmond and other teams, even some retired ones — business owners who are trying out being philanthropists, and people you've seen on magazine covers. 
You were less uncomfortable than you expected because everyone's attention was on Jamie. You stood by him while he greeted a bunch of people and continued to introduce you as his plus one. You hated crowds when you were kids and Jamie knew that, so he'd always check on you if you wanted to go to your seats ahead of him. You'd shake your head every time because you've already had years to get over that fear. Plus, everyone had been nice so far and more polite than you expected rich people to be.
Everyone finally decides to leave Jamie alone and the two of you head to your table, where some of his teammates are already seated and chatting amongst themselves. You recognized them immediately: Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes, and Richard Montlaur. Without Jamie even having to introduce you to them, Dani had already asked what your name was.
“What a lovely name! I’m Dani.” You shake the hand he offered you, as the other players start to welcome you as well. They were so warm and kind, that it’s no wonder Jamie had gotten so much better during his time at Richmond. It seemed their energy was so infectious that it was rubbing off on Jamie.
Though, it could be a bit overwhelming too, as they all wanted to have a conversation with you. Someone had asked, “Tell me more about growing up with Jamie,” while someone else chimed in, “Do you think there’s a correlation between your genes and how well you can shoot a penalty? Because Colin here…” and somewhere in the mix, you hear, “That’s a lovely bag you have. Where’d you get that?”
While Jamie was enjoying watching his favorite person interact with his favorite group of people, he started to notice how tense you were becoming, despite the plastered smile on your face. He reached out to grab your hand as he interrupts all the conversations with, “Alright, alright, I think the programs about to start. Let’s stop bothering my date for now, yeah?”
Date. The word alone sent chills down your spine. Even more so when you turned to look him in the eyes, and he had a look of concern that only you could’ve detected. You breathe a sigh of relief and give him a comforting look, which allows him to relax, too.
You both turn towards the stage as Rebecca, along with Ted, their coach, walk up to the mic. They start with the basic pleasantries, thanking everyone for coming, with Ted’s occasional funny chime-ins. As they segue into the auction itself, you can hear your own table come back to life. The teammates started to tease one another when Colin turns to you, “Oi, looks like you’ll have to put up a fight for Jamie tonight.” He nods towards the table behind yours, and you spot a familiar looking lady, smiling at the man beside you. It’s only when Jamie groans that you realize who it is: the old woman who was one of three people in Jamie’s “bidding war” two years ago.
“Oh my god,” you’re unable to stifle your laughter and instead turn away to try and hide it. “You know what, I think I’m fine going home alone, Jamie. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone off at a party to get lucky, so go have fun!” You tease him, but instead, he turns to you with a desperate look in his eyes.
“Please, don’t do this to me, (Y/N). Make sure you win.”
You scoff and lean in, “Who says I’m even bidding tonight? I’m not even tenured, Jamie. How much money do you think I have?”
Jamie pleads once more, “Please. I’ll pay you back in full and you can pick all the movies we watch for the rest of the month. Anything, come on.” You sigh and finally give in to his puppy dog eyes. 
You give him a slight nod and he quietly thanks you, as Ted starts to introduce the team. “Let’s start the auction with one of our striking strikers, Mr. Jamie Tartt!”
Jamie gets up and walks over to the stage, and it’s only then you realize he had been holding your hand this entire time.
Ted rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, but before Richmond’s coach can even start the bidding, you hear a loud voice behind you exclaim, “Five thousand pounds!”
You have to hold in your chuckle as you turn to Jamie who is now desperately staring at you. You raise your paddle high enough and shout, “Six thousand pounds!”
“Oh, and another bid from Mr. Tartt’s lovely date tonight. Can anyone match that, do I hear seven thousand?” The lady once again raises her paddle.
“Eight thousand!” You exclaim once more, as Jamie lets out a sigh of relief.
This back and forth goes on for a while, up until the final bid (from you, unfortunately) of fifteen thousand pounds. The football player finally allows himself to relax and with one final slap on the back from his coach, makes his way back to you.
“Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing your shoulder as he gives you a quick hug and sits down. You playfully roll your eyes, but give him a small smile back. A few more rounds of bidding take place until Jamie leans back into you. “You feel like going on that date now?”
You turn to him confused, “Like, right now? We’re in the middle of the program.”
Jamie shrugs, “We’re done with our part now and gave out a good amount for the charity. Most of them won’t even notice us leave, come on,” He takes hold of your hand, and as if on cue, activating those butterflies in your stomach, yet again. “Unless you want to bid on someone else tonight, which in that case, I didn’t know you had that in you.”
You roll your eyes but eventually agree. You say your short goodbyes to everyone at the table and Jamie leads you to Rebecca and Ted, who, after Coach Beard — you believed his name was? — had taken over for him, was currently gorging on the appetizers.
“Hey boss, Ted, we’re heading out early, but see you both on Monday.” Jamie quickly explains, still not having let go of your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he’ll ever notice or has just grown used to it like he was before.
“That’s no problem, Jamie, see you and thank you for coming!” Rebecca directed that last comment towards you and you give her a big smile. But his coach wipes his mouth with his table napkin and stands up to greet you anyway.
“Well, I can’t let you go off yet without introducing me to this lovely lady.” Ted reaches out to shake your hand and you take it quickly before he leans to whisper to Jamie, but loud enough for you to hear. “Is this her?”
“Jamie Tartt, do you talk about me to your coach?” You ask teasingly, but instead of his usual reaction of fake annoyance, he turns away shyly.
Ted replies for him instead, saying, “Oh well, not all the time. I usually have to pry it out of him, too.” He nudges the football player, who finally decides that it is definitely time for you two to leave. He leads you out of there and the pair of you walk back to his car in a comfortable silence.
You may not have realized it till now, but the inside of the venue was the stuffiest place you’ve been to in a while. Sure, the people were nice, but the mixing of colognes and posh accents was starting to get to you. Before you can thank Jamie for getting you out of there, he’s rifling around his jacket for something.
“I, uh, found something in some of my old stuff. Was planning to give it to you before we left, but I… got distracted,” you try and ignore the warm feeling creeping up on your cheeks as he says that and instead watch Jamie turn back towards you, pull out your hand, and place an item on your palm. “Here.”
You look down to find a small plastic ring with a “gem” in an obnoxious pink color. You chuckle as you’re reminded of the toy rings Jamie would give you on your birthday as kids, till you realize… you’ve been missing one of them since you moved out.
“Wait, is this…” You start and look back up at Jamie, who has a sheepish look on his face. Definitely doesn’t fit him.
“Yeah, I forgot to tell you because well, we weren’t really talking all these years, but I went by your house a few days before you left for uni, but you weren’t home and so I went to your room and saw that lined up with the rest of them on your drawer. I thought you were crazy for keeping them all those years, and I wanted to mess with you, so I… took one of them, hoping you’d notice. You never did though, so now I look kinda stupid.” He explained guiltily, but you could only laugh.
“I thought it just fell into the trash when I was moving out. If you wanted me to notice you taking something, you should’ve taken my shoes or something. Why the ring?” You lean onto the side of his car, and Jamie joins you on your right.
He shrugs and swipes his hair back, “I don’t know. We were going our separate ways and you were going all the way to Wales for so long. I realized it was going to be a while before we saw each other again. I thought, maybe if you’d realize it was missing and wanted to go looking for it, you’d always have a reason to go back to me.”
You feel a heavy weight on your chest as the last part sinks in. After everything that’s happened, it had never occurred to you that even at one point, Jamie was afraid of losing you too.
You sit in that silence for a while before you decide to rest your head on Jamie’s shoulder, in one way telling him, I would always go back to you. He got the message.
“I know it doesn’t go with your usual outfit choices now, but I just thought you’d want it back anyway.” He whispers, causing a smile to form on your face.
“Thank you, Jamie.” You look back up at him, his face softening at the sight of yours. “You wanna go on that date now?” You straighten back up and take his hand in yours this time. “What does the legendary Jamie Tartt have planned for this one?”
Jamie looks around and spots a bike rental on the other side of the car park. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he was thinking. “Race you back to that ice cream shop across your flat. Last one there has to pay.” 
“What kind of date is that, Tartt?!” You exclaim, as he drags you across the street.
If there’s one thing you knew about Jamie, it was that he was a sore loser. So after you dropped your bikes in front of your flat and were massaging your calves waiting for your sundaes, this may have been the happiest you’ve seen him lose at something in your whole life.
TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @loveforaugust @crownofdecitreadingrespectfully @dickgraysonspersonalwhore @jess4rush @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)
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callofdudes · 1 year
Text
✨GhostSoap incorrect quotes✨
With 141 chaos included.
Soap: Oops, got your mental illness 😊
Ghost: You give that back.
Ghost, pulling out a knife: That was a gift from my father!
-------
Ghost: I'm sorry for being mentally ill.
Soap: ...
Ghost: And a bit messed up in the head.
Ghost: The sex will be good though.
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Ghost: Johnny, this place is fancy and I don't know which fork to kill myself with.
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Soap: Simon, you're late for date night again, what was it this time?
Ghost, standing in the living room covered in blood: Well...
Soap, sighing: Baby I want to go out for dinner!!
Ghost: I know but just one more time love- next week we can go on a proper date but-
Soap: Hiding a body isn't a date!!
-------
Ghost: I don't want you talking at my funeral!
Soap: What?
Ghost: You can go to my funeral but you can't talk-
Soap: Why??
Ghost: My funeral is my time to shine!
-------
Soap: I don't know what the big deal is
Gaz, sighing: Ok, let's break this down. First of all, you don't fix any of the appliances in your apartment.
Soap: Yeah, it's too hard.
Gaz: You don't fix up your apartment in general.
Soap: Couldn't be bothered.
Gaz: Dude, you can't even fix up a decent meal for yourself.
Soap: What even is a stove. I mean...
Gaz: Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you??
Ghost: Hey, can I have 40 bucks real quick?
Soap, leaning in to whisper: I still think I can fix him.
Gaz: For fucks sake-
-------
Soap: Ghost, what's like a word your parents wouldn't let you use growing up. Like they said it was a curse word but it really wasn't.
Ghost: No, I can't say that, it's too embarrassing.
Soap: Oh come on I'll go first, my parents told us 'shut up' was like a curse. Like it was a terrible phrase we couldn't use.
Ghost: What? My parents said that to me all the time.
Soap: Really?
Ghost: Ok, this is a word we literally never used in our house. I don't even know if I'm pronouncing it right... Uh, love?
Soap: What?
Ghost: Oh I am pronouncing it wrong. Uh, luvé?
Soap: Uh no, it's pronounced love.
Ghost: Oh, yeah, well we never said that.
Soap: Ghost, you- you know I'm here for you right?
Ghost: That's so kind of you Johnny. You know what, I tolerate you.
Soap: What... What?? Tolerate? That's mean
Ghost: What, no it's not! That's like the deepest form of affection you can show somebody!
-------
Soap: Have you seen a person named 'Ghost' around here?
Gaz: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.
Price: It looks fine to me?
Gaz: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!
-------
Ghost: *Screams*
Soap: *Screams louder to assert dominance*
Gaz: Should we do something?!
Price, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.
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Gaz: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?
Soap: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Ghost?
Ghost: Probably “road work ahead”.
Price: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.
-------
Ghost: I think Price was right.
Soap: I'm surprised he haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'
Gaz: He wouldn't do that.
Price: You're right, Gaz. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.
Price: *turns around, the shirt they're wearing says 'Price Told You So' on the back*
-------
Ghost: I just ended a four year relationship.
Soap: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?
Ghost: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship.
*Gaz and Price fighting from across the room*
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Ghost: This is bothering me.
Soap: Well, you are digging up a corpse.
Ghost: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.
-------
Ghost: Can you please be serious for five minutes?
Soap: My record is four, but I think I can do it.
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Ghost: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside
Soap:
Soap: Ghost, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...
Ghost: *Sips tea from bowl*
-------
Ghost: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-
Soap: Twelve, actually.
Ghost: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that?
Soap: Yours!
Ghost: That's right: no one's.
-------
Ghost: Soap was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some.
Soap: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it.
Ghost: Soap, you ate a chair
--------
Ghost: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It?
Soap: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!!
Ghost: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration.
-------
Ghost: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail
Soap: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police
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Ghost: What is your biggest weakness?
Soap: I can be uncooperative.
Ghost: Okay, can you give me an example?
Soap: No.
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Ghost: It’s dark in here
Soap: Don’t worry dude I got this
Soap: *Stomps his feet*
Soap: *Skechers light up*
-------
Ghost: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you
Soap: 10 times 0 is still 0 though
Ghost: Jokes on you, I can't do math
-------
Ghost, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.
Soap: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!
Ghost, with the tone of someone who is used to Soap: Outstanding.
Ghost: This is what I’m talking about people.
-------
Ghost: You saved me. I owe you my life.
Soap: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.
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Ghost: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.
Soap: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.
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Soap: Am I in trouble?
Ghost: Take a guess.
Soap: No?
Ghost: Take another guess.
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Soap: Remember when you didn't try to solve all your problems with attempted murder?
Ghost: Stop romanticizing the past.
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Ghost: I'm a reverse necromancer.
Soap: Isn't that just killing people?
Ghost: Ah, technicality.
-------
Soap: I can explain.
Ghost: Can you?
Soap: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.
-------
Ghost: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.
Soap: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.
Price: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-
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gfcheol · 2 years
Text
late blooming pt1 | j. wonwoo
Tumblr media
pairing: wonwoo x f!reader
genre: slow burn, sugar daddy au, smut in later chapters
word count: 5.9k
tags: struggling artist!reader, trust fund kid!wonwoo, mutual pining, emotional constipation, slow burn, eventual smut (in later chapters oops), photographer!mingyu, best friend!jeonghan, swearing
taglist: @bangchanbabygirlx
"You made it!", Mingyu beamed at you, his smile so radiant, it could probably illuminate the whole city if he tried. Even though he towered over most of his guests, you were almost sure that he was standing on the tip of his toes, trying to make you out in the sea of people. You giggled, his enthusiasm easily rubbing off on you, as you matched his gleeful expression.
Truth be told, you weren't expecting that warm of a welcome, when you got the invite to your college buddy's first Vernissage. 'Pieces of me' - read the title, according to the flyer that is. A collection of photographs that Mingyu took over the years, working as a freelance artist. There was a small part of you, bitter and envious, trying to convince yourself that this was the result of luck and money. But you remembered, even back in your college days, the passion ablaze in Mingyu's eyes when he wanted to get the right angle or capture a moment deserving to be of film. Yes, if you liked it or not, some people were simply blessed with talent, beauty and success.
"Gyu!", you squealed as his hands pulled you into a crushing hug, face pressed against his muscular chest. Jesus Christ, had he gotten even bigger?
"I wasn't sure you'd come", his arms tightened around you, as though he was trying to stop you from vanishing again. "You never really responded to the invite..."
Or his other messages. He didn't have to actually voice it out, but you were very well aware of the hurt you caused by going ghost on him, since you two graduated college.
A pang of guilt shot through you, freeing yourself from his bearhug. "Ah, I didn't know if you'd... want me here? I don't know, it's silly", your smile wavered, nervously toying with the complimentary glass of champagne, they'd offered you at the entrance. How you wished, you'd taken more than a sip from your bubbly poison.
"You're right", he said, hand squeezing your shoulder. "You are being silly! I'm always happy to see you, no reason to doubt that."
The sincerity bleeding off his words tore on you, cracks deepening in your happy, little facade as you felt emotions well up, you weren't really ready to show. The past few years had been tough on you. The constant rejection as an artist, the financial struggle that came with it, the myriad of men so ready to break your heart... It seemed difficult to stay positive in such circumstances, resorting to you isolating yourself from those more successful and happier than you. The constant reminder and comparison would have ruined you, you'd told yourself half-heartedly, everytime you saw Mingyu's invites to dinners or birthday parties. Egoism at its absolute worst.
You cleared your throat - this was hardly the time or place to dwell on your own shortcomings. You'd have enough time to reflect on that, in the cozy confines of your apartment.
Another squeeze, this one firmer. Forcing yourself out of your gloomy thought prison, you blinked a few times. "Fuck, sorry- I was kinda zoning out, what did you say?"
Mingyu's grin widened at that. "You really haven't changed, have you?'
"Oh my fucking- Shut up!", you giggled, rolling your eyes. "Can't blame me for getting emotional over Mister Artist over here achieving the dream."
Your compliment, having its intended effect, went straight to his head, a pretty blush blooming on his cheeks. He had always been offensively sweet and handsome at that as well. It felt good to see how none of that got lost over the years. "It's pretty crazy, right?"
"Nah", you followed his gaze as he looked around the spacious hall, darting from people to photographs. His brows furrowed and you swore you could see his eyes well up with heavy tears. "You're talented, Gyu! Always been! Let yourself enjoy the moment."
"Are you trying to make me cry? Because it's kinda working."
The motion of leaning against his side felt too familiar to resist it, the long years spent apart suddenly forgotten. Your own gentle giant. You felt your heart ache. "C'mon, go mingle a bit! All these fancy people came to see you, I'm not gonna hog all of your attention."
A sigh. "Let's catch up later, okay?", he tore himself from you with surprising difficulty, his eyes oozing with all the feelings of the moment, before he disappeared back into the crowd. Well, as well as he could being the giant that he was.
Taking another sip from your glass, you willed away the urge to hide away in the bathroom. Icky feelings be damned, you're not going to let your anxiety ruin this for your friend. Or was it former friend? You'd still have to clarify that with him, once you'd get the chance to catch up and apologize for being the worst person imaginable.
The photographs adorning the walls of the hall were breath-taking - Really, hardly a surprise for anyone knowing the artist. The motives on them might vary - Some of them bursting with warm colors, others melancholic black and white pieces - but you could recognize Mingyu in all of them. You could picture him so clearly behind the lense in some of them. Lips pursed as he'd play with the lighting, until he'd groan out in frustration, strings of whines escaping him. You couldn't help but giggle at the mental image you conjured up.
"And here I was thinking, this piece was probably meant to be wistful", a voice behind you declared.
"Interesting", you commented, copying the serious tone of the still faceless stranger. "I would have gone with 'serene', personally. Not all landscapes are supposed to invoke a sense of sadness, you know."
"Not even rainy, grey ones? Art teachers must have it all wrong." The mystery man was teasing, you could tell, but your pride simply demanded you not to give in. Biting your lip to suppress a smile, you tilted your head to the side, still mustering the photograph in front of you. "If you think a piece of art being devoid of color is enough to make it melancholic, I feel like you need to broaden your horizons."
You turned towards him to present him with a cocky smirk, yet the sight of him caught you off guard, making you halt in your tracks. He was nowhere near the pompous, old fart that you'd expected him to be. Quite the contrary - He must have been around your age, rather tall, sharp eyes adorned with golden rimmed glasses that sat on his nose bridge. There was an air around him you couldn't quite place. Maybe it was confidence - Or rather indifference? He looked at you with no hint of emotion, yet there was an intensity in his expression that made your brows furrow in silent question. Did you know him? Was he an old acquaintance from school? Work maybe? His face seemed so very familiar...
"I'm sorry, have we-"
"No, I don't think we've had the pleasure yet", he was quick to cut you off, eyes still very much set on you. "Y/N, right?"
Momentarily taken aback by his curt behavior, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, the alcohol in your system lending you some bite. "Very charming and not at all creepy", you replied, keeping your tone cold.
The stranger finally broke into a faint smile, your attitude seemingly amusing him, much to your dismay. "It wasn't much of a question", he said. "Mingyu mentioned you."
That only raised more questions within your mind. Yet your heart warmed at the thought of your college friend still talking about you after all these years. Your demeanor softened, feeling heat travel to your ears. "He did?", your voice rang quiet, even to your own ears. "You two are friends?"
Hesitantly, he gave you a slow nod, as if to choose his next words with extra care. "Why would that be so surprising?"
"It isn't...? I just don't know- I thought, we've established we don't know each other? Or am I being like- really inconsiderate right now?", you wrecked your brain, digging for any hint of information about the mystery man. Yet your mind was blank, the mix of alcohol and the whirlwind of emotions making your mind feel hazy.
Your response earned you a wary look, his eyes mustering you with a strange sense of incredulousness, adjusting his glasses on his nose. The strange air of superiority over you didn't help to soothe your ruffled feathers, biting your tongue to refrain from any too rude remark. When he still didn't reply anything, you huffed, patience wearing thin. "Listen, I'm not here to be catty, so don't make this too hard for me."
"Wonwoo", he extended his hand for you, though he still sounded somewhat careful with his introduction. Feeling petty, you eyed his hand with a sceptical raise of your brow, before shaking his hand. "You're a fellow artist."
It wasn't framed like a question, but you still found yourself contemplating the correct response. Did you view yourself as a creative medium that still creates whenever it's possible for you? Absolutely. Did you attend the same college as Mingyu? That's a fact. Would you be ridiculed if you answered affirmatively, only to admit your primary source of income is your cashier job at the convenience store down your street? No doubt about that either.
Avoiding his ever so observant eyes, you offered a shrug. "Something like that, yeah."
He must have sensed your hesitation, directing his attention away from you, and back to the artwork, a hum on his lips. You let yourself muster him more closely - His features were sharp, something intimidating in his sharp cheekbones and clean cut style. Still, you couldn't deny his good looks. Of course, you'd act like a bitch to the first hot guy approaching you in the longest time. You groaned inwardly.
"Are you one too? An artist I mean." His lips quirked up, as if the question itself seemed absolutely preposterous. "Or are you here for our Picasso?"
"Really - 'Picasso'? I would have gone with Monet - Less obvious choice"
A roll of your eyes was enough to stop his teasing, a smirk plastered on his lips. Handsome or not, the urge to dump the rest of your champagne on his pants seemed to grow by the second. "Mingyu invited me."
You hummed in response before he continued. "You're probably familiar with how persistent he can be."
"Not big on crowds then?", you asked, already sympathizing with Mr Wonwoo's very obvious struggle to socialize. "I get it, I'm not a fan either."
"Hm, yes. One could say that. I try to avoid them, at least." He seemed tense replying to you, jaw clenched as he shifted from one foot to the other. A vague feeling of guilt sank in your chest. Oh, this interaction was just getting better and better. Maybe if you were lucky enough, you'd suffer a spontaneous a heart attack and you could free this poor guy from your clumsy conversation.
"It's worth it though", you decided to say, your edges softening all at once, at the mention of your mutual friend. "Just to see him be all smiley and happy. He deserves it, I'm so proud of him."
There was something so inherently vulnerable about sharing fondness for the same person, you mused, even among strangers. Pride and genuine happiness beamed in your chest, and for a heartbeat you felt as bright and happy as Mingyu. "I've been telling him the same thing for months now, but it almost seems like he was willing to believe you more than me."
If he was agitated, he did a great job hiding that. His words were free of malice, merely curiosity peeking its head through some syllables. Yet all you could do is stare dumbly. "Should I be flattered or worried, knowing that you were just lurking in some corner, watching us? Very James Bond villain of you."
"I'd rather see you flattered than anything", the question left him unfazed, shame nowhere in sight. You pouted at the lack of effect your words had on him. In the short while you had gotten to know Wonwoo Last-Name-Unknown, he managed to coax shame, annoyance, and now, a third emotion (one that made your heart flutter and your cheeks heat up) out of you. What a terrible man he proved himself to be, not even possessing the courtesy to pretend.
From the corner of your vision, you saw his smirk deepen, before asking you, "Would it be terribly forward to ask for your number?"
"It would be", you decided, without further thought to his question, suppressing your smile with effort. "But I'm quick to forgive the faux pas."
His phone felt foreign in your hands, as he produced it from seemingly out of nowhere, pressing his thumb to the side, black screen lighting up. To your disappointment, you noticed the default homescreen, the brightness taunting any hope you had to gain insight into his character. Even with a name to his chiselled features, your Mystery Man seemed intent on remaining a stranger to you. His facade so clean, it was hard not to pay mind to the eerie feeling creeping up your spine. A puzzle waiting to be solved, you thought to yourself.
His smile was surprisingly shy, after you'd typed in both name and number into his contacts, fingertips brushing against you a bit too long, as you handed him his phone. "We'll stay in touch." And once again - His tone left no room for argument.
"Okay, boss", you snorted at his all too formal goodbye, granting him one last smile, before turning on your heel, heading into another direction. It felt almost impossible to force the wave of giddiness down your throat, reminding yourself that you don't, in fact, know this guy. You'd grant him the honour of giggles and shy glances, once he'd actually take you out on a date. Or well, if he'd actually take you out.
Mingyu didn't seem all too disappointed, when you'd told him that you would head home for the day, too occupied entertaining both, friends and art lovers. A wave of nostalgia washed over you briefly. Or was it regret? It was hard to tell.
"Text me, okay?", he said with puppy dog eyes. "Promise!"
"Cross my heart and hope to die- I promise", you grinned in return. "Have fun, Monet."
And you could swear, that for a second, you heard a, now familiar, deep voice chuckle in delight. You tried to disregard your glowing cheeks, as you slipped through the glass door, exiting the building.
♡♡♡♡♡♡
Blue must have always been your favourite color to work with.
Even during your middle school years, you'd found the depth of it soothing. Dark, ominous waves that house secrets no one will ever know. Or in contrast, the sky on a sunny day, assuring you that this, will surely be your day. So you'd picked up your crayons, your paint or your ballpoint pen and you drew, knowing that if you didn't bring the emotion you held onto paper, they'd be lost forever.
Your mother had called it, your "Blue Period". Strange, considering you had yet to move on to a different color. But who knew? Perhaps you'd grow tired of the depths and the levity, craving intense red or regal purple in your life instead. Perhaps...
Perhaps one day, when the want to venture out will drown out comfort and safety. Until then, you'd be content with blue.
♡♡♡♡♡♡
Your chest was heaving up and down as you leaned against the doorframe of your apartment, feeling your heartbeat drum against your skull. "Fuck me", you panted.
"Yeah, that's what jogging does to someone", Jeonghan smirks, very happy with himself, while eyeing your sweaty form. Despite it being past noon, he was still in his PJs, the plaid ones that you'd gifted him last year to his birthday, sporting a self satisfied expression on his delicate features.
You recalled the first time you'd met him. Gyu had left you to your own devices at some frat party, letting you stroll around to either cause mayhem or make new friends. At the time, you'd thought Jeonghan was the most angelic looking guy, you'd ever laid your eyes upon in your life, smiling at you with half lidded eyes, red solo cup in hand. That impression quickly changed, his catty remarks ("And you believed what Joshua told you, Channie? That's so brave of you.") having sparked a whole fist fight amongst the surrounding guys - The reason? He'd wanted an excuse to go home unnoticed.
"Not all of us wanna- oh shit-", you gulped for air, lungs stinging in protest, sweat dripping from your hairline, down to your brow. You could already hear the shower calling to you. "-have the constitution of an old lady, Hannie."
"I'm so proud of you for fighting against your old lady nature then."
Groaning at his retort, you pushed past him into your - suspiciously quiet - shared apartment. Reaching for the zipper of your jacket, you asked, "Didn't you mention that - Layla? Mary? - Wanted to come over this weekend?"
A shrug on his side, pushing the front door closed with a shove of his hips. "Layla", Jeonghan clarified. "Mary was the one from the Christmas party two months ago. Keep up, will you."
"Right, yeah. My bad."
"And yeah... but no. No." His eyes were cast down, a sudden interest in the pattern of the old floorboards, lips pressed into a fine line.
There was no need to explain any further than the look on his face. Layla had been sweet from what you remembered. Maybe even one of your favourites in the long line of girls, he'd introduced you to in the past year or so. "Shit, I'm sorry, Hannie. You okay?"
A non committal shrug. "Oh well, what can you do."
Sometimes you found yourself envying Jeonghan's tumultuous love life. No matter how fun the conversations or how good the sex was, he always put himself first. Because why spend too much time agonizing over someone who yearns for fundamentally different things in life? I'm not one to waste a girl's time, Jeonghan had told you after a particular rough breakup. At the very most, he found his pride wounded - But he always managed to bounce back regardless.
Your love life stood in stark contrast to his.
"Before I forget", Jeonghan shuffled next to you, head pointing to your phone on the kitchen counter. "Ya got a missed call - If it's my sister again, asking about her computer, tell her to shoo."
Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a breathless laugh, slipping your jacket off your shoulders as you made your way to the kitchen. You grabbed your blinking phone, notifying you of 'two missed calls' in the last hour. "Why do I have to be the middle man between you guys?", you frowned at the unknown number glaring at you. "Who the fuck..."
Quick to change the subject, Jeonghan hopped onto the corner, peaking over your shoulder. "Oooo, is someone in trouble?", he teased, practically glowing at the opportunity for mischief. "Or is it the guy from Mingyu's thing? Did you give him your number or did he-"
"Oh! I completely forgot- Oh fuck, what if it's him?" It wasn't that he'd actually slipped your mind after your encounter, you were just convinced that after a week - nine days to be exact - that'd be a clear indicator of his lack of interest. The sting of rejection would definitely hurt less by trying to erase him from your memory. "Should I text him? Call back? What if it isn't even him? Oh my god, Hannie! What the fuck should I do?"
Relishing in your flustered state, your roommate gloated. "Text back. If it's actually him, then he has some nerve calling after two weeks of radio silence. Bad move."
"It hasn't even been two weeks."
"So?" Jeonghan raised his brows, tilting his head to the side. "And let him explain himself, that could be funny."
Getting an explanation did sound rather tempting. But wouldn't that seem too much? You hadn't told Mingyu about Wonwoo hitting on you, moreso focused on praising his artworks and all the hard work he put into the Vernissage. So, you were still just as clueless about him as you'd been the day you met him.
Undeniably, there was something exciting about it all. The only thing that served as a connection between you being a mutual friend, but other than that? You were still completely oblivious about him - what he did as a job, where he's from, what his last name is. Your nerves tingled at the thrill of it, all previous exhaustion shed, teeth sinking into the flesh of your cheeks.
"I'd offer to call him instead, but I have a feeling he'll be able to tell it's not you on the other end of the line."
You started laughing at the thought alone, shoving him playfully. "I'm having a crisis, stop being funny!"
A few of Han's ex girlfriends, and even some of your own ex flings, had very readily complained about the bond you shared with each other. You weren't one to blame them for assuming - even though they couldn't be more wrong. There had never even a figment of a moment, where you even considered starting a romantic connection. Jeonghan wasn't your type and you weren't his either, no doubt about that.
"No, you know what? Fuck it", you sighed, your roommate hollering in response, celebrating your newfound courage. Without wasting any more thought, you pressed on the phone number, thumbs forming a quick sentence.
[y/n - 13:11] hi, sorry who is this?
Glancing over your shoulder to the text you'd typed out, Jeonghan could barely contain a snort. "Aw, I was hoping you'd call."
"Next time I'll just force you to imitate-", your eyes went wide as the screen turned black, phone buzzing in your hand. With one last panicked glance at a way too giddy friend, you pressed 'accept' with sweaty fingers.
"Hello, y/n speaking."
"Ah- Hi. This is Wonwoo", the vaguely familiar timber of his voice, almost made you gasp out in delight, heart already aching from all the anxiety and delight. Upon your reaction, Han shuffled even closer towards you, set on listening in on your conversation. "Mingyu's friend?", Wonwoo added after some brief silence.
"Yeah! Hi, yeah I remember! I was kinda being stupid and and left my phone, while I was out..." You hated how nervous you sounded, even to your own ears, looking for excuses when he was the one who kept you waiting. Your roommate seemed to share the sentiment, his glare way too reminiscent of a teacher scolding his student for a stupid question.
"No, please. It's...", he trailed off. "Actually, can you give me moment? I'll be right with you." The other line went quiet for a moment, aside from the sound of papers rustling. Was he at work? What kind of office work might he be doing? If he was yet another finance bro, you'd lose the number as soon as possible. You heard a soft voice mumble something next to your Mystery Man, asking him - or rather a certain 'Mr Jeon'- to sign some document.
Next to you, Jeonghan's head snapped toward you in an instance, eyes wide as he mouthed to you 'Jeon Wonwoo?' in absolute shock. Confusion was plastered all across your face, nodding your head to the unspoken question. "What?", you asked, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. Instead of providing you an answer, he pulled out his own phone, thumbs furiously typing away into the Google search bar.
"Hi again. So sorry, I'm still at the office", you almost jumped at Wonwoo's voice, sounding oh so husky and tired so close to your ear.
The smile tugging on your lips was involuntary, yet still very evident. "No worries."
He cleared his throat. "I know it's been a while, but I was wondering-", Jeonghan shoved his phone into your face, making you blink. Oh. Oh. His device displayed a very professional looking photograph of the same handsome looking man you'd met at Mingyu's Vernissage - hair just as dark, same glasses on his nose. Though what caught your eye next was the headline above his head, reading in big bold letters 'Jeon Wonwoo's rise to success! Son of Billionaire Dynasty shares his Secrets'. You felt the blood drain from your face, thoughts spinning a thousand miles an hour as you tried to process what you've read without a total mental breakdown. This couldn't be real, right? This must be some sick and twisted joke Hannie was playing on you to get back at you for something, you'd already forgotten anyway. There was no way that-
"Y/N?", you snapped back into reality, mouth feeling dryer than ever. "Still there? Should I call back another time?"
"Mhm, yeah!", you squeaked. "M- My roommate is just being annoying - What were you saying?"
Han's shock warped into sheer amusement, body shaking with the laughter he tried to muffle by pressing his palm against his mouth. You, on the other hand, felt like you were on the verge of a very serious mental breakdown. "I said, I'd like to take you out for a coffee", he repeated himself again. "I have a proposal, I'd like to talk to you about."
'A proposal?' Your eyes shot back to your friend, as if he'd magically know the details to Wonwoo's request. "Yeah, I- Sure", you willed your voice to stay as steady as possible, trying to ignore the slight waver in tone.
"Can you do today at five? I'll text you the details, of course." You couldn't stand how casual he sounded, compared to you. Was this a regular thing for him? Picking up women left and right? Paying them to hook up with him? Oh god, was he going to pay you to hook up with him? Was he one of those rich perverts, trying to indulge in some weird, funky kinks with no name people like you? You felt like crying.
"C- can we do six? I'm all sweaty", cringing at your own statement, you winced. "... From the workout. I was working out. If you couldn't tell."
And despite all the worries and anxiety, your heart still leapt, when you heard him chuckle into his phone, heat radiating off your face. "I'll choose to believe you for now. Should we do dinner instead?"
"Sounds great!" Jeonghan grabbed your shoulder, almost vibrating with joy.
"I'll text you the details - See you there?"
"Yep! Bye!" With the press of a shaky finger, you hung up.
The silence that followed was deafening, you and your friend staring at each other as though the other had grown a second head. Your nerves felt fried just from the phone conversation alone, your mind overwhelmed with every little emotion that had passed through you. Physical exhaustion had nothing on the numb feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach. "Fuck", Jeonghan was the first to speak, his smile almost manic. "I can't believe, you're going to become a Sugar Baby."
"I'm going to die, Hannie! Die! What the fuck?! Why did I agree to this?!" Your body slumped into the kitchen counter, pressing your damp forehead against the cool granite.
"Because you're a smart independent lady, who knows an opportunity when she sees one", You could practically hear the smile in his voice. "Now get dolled up, babe, if you're lucky we don't have to pay rent anymore."
♡♡♡♡♡♡
Stiff fingers clutched the cool metal of your spoon, nervously shifting in your seat. Your lipgloss coated lips stretching into a shy smile, whenever you felt Wonwoo's eyes linger on you a second too long. This means nothing, you tried to remind yourself, ignoring the searing in your chest.
Jeonghan had tried his very best to convince you to go all on out with your outfit and makeup choices. And while you understood his motivation, you'd known how cheap you'd feel by trying to look fuckable enough for your date to pay for you. Date... If that is, what you could call it. "Mingyu's told me a lot about you", he said
"You asked him about me?" You noticed his ears turn a shade of pink as he shook his head, smiling. "You came up naturally."
Your shoulders tensed up, glancing downward to avoid any scrutiny or judgement. By all means, it shouldn't come to you as a surprise that Mingyu had mentioned you. He had seemed quite excited to see you attend his event, his enthusiasm a bright beacon of joy. You had no right to feel ashamed - or to hope Wonwoo didn't think any less of you for ghosting your mutual friend for years for some petty, personal feelings. But still, there was growing discomfort - Or was it shame? - within you that was only hard to ignore.
"Well? Do I need to plan his very brutal murder or send him a thank you letter?", you joked half heartedly.
That earned you yet another smile. You could really get used to the sight. "He told me about your art, actually. Showed me a few of your paintings too."
Your spoon hit the the edge of your plate with a loud 'clank', cheeks feeling way too hot as you gawked at him. "M- My paintings?" Whatever you'd expected to hear him say tonight, commenting on your artwork had somehow completely eluded your imagination. Instead, a myriad of horrors had played non-stop in your mind, doing its best to convince you, that this evening would either end with you murdered or, even worse, heartbroken.
"Come on, you're looking at me like I just told you pigs could fly", Wonwoo chuckled, both his tone and his gaze soft. "I liked them quite a lot."
"Oh", you muttered. "Thank you. I just... didn't expect him to mention my art."
"Artists are quick to recognize each other, I've found." Your eyes were fixed on his face then, a knowing smirk playing on the edge of his lips, as he shoveled another bite of his steak into his mouth. The compliment reached your heart first, engulfing you in a warm ray of light, while you could only nod in response. An insufficient form of gratitude, though Wonwoo didn't seem to mind. "How come you're so sassy and confident but turn shy at any genuine compliment?"
"I just don't respond well to cocky flirting. Bad habit, I guess?", you decided to play bold, having grown tired of the timid anxiety plaguing you.
But your partner seemed to be familiar with that game, your defiance only causing him to deepen his smirk. "Bad habits do die hard."
Raising your glass to your lips to mask your smile, you let him have his little moment of victory. Even if short lived. The back and forth was invigorating for sure - A welcome change, compared to all the boring dates you'd been on with men you hadn't even liked in the first place. You exhaled through your nose at the reminder alone. "But back on topic", Wonwoo adjusted his glasses. "Am I correct in assuming, you're not a full time artist?"
The wine tasted bitter to your tongue, making it hard to swallow it down. "Hm- No, unfortunately not."
"I see", he hummed. "I don't know if Mingyu's mentioned my line of work..."
This wasn't a line of questions you'd expected on a date. Business proposal? Your head felt too heavy on your shoulders, as your fingers ran over the neckline of your too tight dress. "Hannie- I mean um. My roommate told me."
Something dark flashed in his eyes, before he continued on. "Then you must also be aware of my financial status."
You nodded. "I am, yeah."
"Good. Spares me all the explaining", he joked, without much humor. "I'd like to sponsor you."
Your shoulders slumped, fingers, still toying with the fabric of your dress, going stiff all of a sudden. This wasn't just the wine talking, was it? "Oh."
This was a once in your life time opportunity, Jeonghan would never hear the end of it. This was everything you had spent nights crying over, thinking life was just so unfair. This could be everything to you. But then, why was it, that you felt like submerging your head in water, until you'd stop breathing? You were supposed to to be happier than this. Thankful too. Weren't you?
"Shit- I'm sorry, sponsor me?", you leaned toward Wonwoo, scanning for any trace of mockery or jest in his expression. "I don't wanna seem unappreciative but- You really want to sponsor me? There's a catch, right? There has to be."
Crossing his long legs, he didn't seem to shy away from your curiosity, not one to be intimidated easily. It did make sense - A business man, confronted with cutthroat competition on a daily, wouldn't really feel intimidated by some nervous no-name artist. The image of him posing on the cover of some important magazine surfaced in your mind again. "Ah, it's probably wiser to not trust offers like this at first, I can't blame you," He leaned forward in his seat. "My motivation's simple. I think you have great potential - You're a pretty lady with a lot of talent. I'd like to see you taken care of."
"Like some kind of sugar daddy?", the realization of your question hit you like a truck. your face feeling heated as you pressed your lips together, as though you could stop yourself from further embarrassment by physically silencing yourself.
Wonwoo, to your luck, merely grinned at the questions. "I mean- if you'd like that to be my official title, we can arrange that."
"Stop making fun of me!", you huffed with a pout on your lips, giggles threatening to burst past your lips. "Or- Are you not joking? Is this like a Shades of Grey fetish thing?"
"Listen", his voice fell into a hushed tone, fixing you with his gaze alone. "I'd like to spend more time with you - Doesn't mean that I'll give you a couple hundred everytime you flash me."
Spend more time with you? It felt unnecessarily difficult to think straight with his face being so close to your own, the dark brown in his eyes so alluring and warm. Gnawing on the inside of your cheeks, you furrowed your brows. It'd be a lie to say, you wouldn't like you two to grow closer. Why hope for a relationship, when this was the more sensible - more lucrative - way for you? No hurt feelings and no more financial struggles. Why hesitate? Jeonghan would kill you, if he were aware that you had any doubts about the deal. "So... You'd pay me to spend time with you? And to paint?"
"I'm not going to force you to spend time with me, if that's your question."
"No, I mean", it would prove to be an impossible task not to flush as you continued on, "This is something... not physical then? A business deal, only?"
And for the first time this evening, it was you that rendered Wonwoo speechless as he paused, his smirk slowly fading away. Instead of the self assured art snob and business man you've come to know, he appeared almost timid, insecure even, his ears blooming a pretty shade of pink. "Deals are... less complicated", his voice trailed off, gaze unfocused, sipping on his wine. "But no, this can be whatever you'd like it to be. Whatever you're comfortable with. I'd merely want to support you, if you allow me."
He was right, you knew that he was. Businesses and contracts might be a language you weren't acquainted with, but you knew the heartache of failed relationships all too well. And even if Wonwoo apparently wasn't one to kiss and tell, he seemed to be no stranger to that pain. The quiet chatter of the restaurant felt so distant in this moment. His fingers felt warm as his pinky brushed against your own, his eyes searching yours. "What do you say?", he asked, both his hands and his tone so very careful.
This was supposed to be easier, why did the words taste so heavy in your mouth? A reluctant smile, but bright nontheless. "I'd like that."
His eyes lit up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." What could go wrong?
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Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH
Spoilers, ho!
Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.
I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.
In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.
But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.
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I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol
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Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!
In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?
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Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!
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It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.
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Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄
Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.
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But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.
DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?
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Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.
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With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.
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It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.
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Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…
The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.
And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.
That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.
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Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!
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I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂
Jason also arrives in style.
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I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!
Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.
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Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎
Then he gets the bad news.
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Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.
That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.
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Real Joker going right for the hair!
Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.
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Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞
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Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.
Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.
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Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.
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Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:
1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?
2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.
Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.
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So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?
But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.
But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.
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Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.
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BUT WHO WAS JOKE
Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.
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Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.
Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.
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You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.
And then, from the water…
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And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?
Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.
Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.
On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.
Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.
I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.
And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.
A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.
I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.
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androgynousblackbox · 3 months
Text
Alright, I am watching the reaction stream of another person to see the video of Jamesy and I have thoughts! -Jamesy is REALLY counting on buttering up to Jessie Gender specifically. He named her so many times trying to "apologize" for weaponizing his audience against her when she told him to not erase her work in Nebula just because his whiny entitled ass couldn't accept that he wasn't invited to the platform. Not a single word about actually going to her and talk privately though, just a bunch of "ooh, Jessie Gender is the kindest, best human being ever and I am so sorry to her", like, bitch, WHY ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT HER? Jessie wasn't the worst victim of your actions! Your bullshit with her happened long BEFORE anything of this happened, so why the fuck are you even bringing her up?? My only guess is that Jamesy wants Jessie to speak on his favor and "forgive him", hoping that will bring him new good will from the queer community in youtube. I am fucking crossing my fingers and touching wood that Jessie does not fall for this manipulative bullshit. This guy is literally clout chasing because, again, when it came to the plagiarism, Jessie had NOTHING to do here. Jessie, if you want an easy win, don't say anything about this. Don't even aknowledge it. Pretend like a mosquito just farted in another building. You had nothing to do with this and I am sorry this piece of shit is trying to drag you into it to take advantage of your good nature. -"I only cared about the production side of making videos, that is why I bring Nick in as the main writer." This motherfucker really went and did it. He is literally blaming Nick squarely now, because now he is just not a co-writer. No, now he is the MAIN WRITER. Jamesy here was just trying to making his little films and buy expensive ass equipment while telling everyone he was starving on the streets, he only cared about the production. NICK, THOUGH, HE WAS ALL ABOUT THE WRITING. He was the one who put the words and little Jamesy baby boy here only "produced, directed and edited" (omg, shut the fuck off, man, your editing skills are mid at best) everything. -Way too many sob stories. I don't care, man. I don't fucking care that you got fired or whatever conditions you had. Do you have any fucking clue how many people do really struggle to reach the end of the month and they still never even think of stealing someone else's work? Everyone is struggling and yet, you were the one who made a career for fucking years out of stealing the works of everyone else in this community AND THEN, when call out, tried to paint them as the bad guys.
-A lot, and I do mean, a lot of time to "apologize" to Jessie Gender, but you know who he didn't apologize to? Literally none of the authors he stole from. Not the fan whose edit of Korra he used without credit. Not Alexander Avila. Not that person who was harassed to hell and back by Jamesy and his audience when they showed how he plagiarized on his disney video. Jessie deserved to be name dropped at least thirty times, but those people?? They are fucking nobodies. They don't matter. Why name them at all? It's not like their WORK WAS STOLEN BY YOU OR ANYTHING! And that is another thing! Even if Jamesy is really out there blaming Nick for all the words that they took without credit, then what the fuck is up with all the footage, edits and audiovisual works that weren't for you to take? You said your passion is production. That is part of the production, Jamesy. Is this you admitting you fully just fucking stole them and hoped nobody would notice because you are a lazy piece of garbage?
-"Having to do multiple edits because youtube copyright issues was so hard for me, guys, you don't understand uwu. It was so hard on me to make it less obvious I had plagiarized people!" THAT IS ENTIRELY YOUR OWN FAULT, BRO.
-So, hey, funny thing. I was looking to see if other people were reacting or had reuploaded the video so I could put it here. They haven't yet, there is only two reactions, but while I was doing that I found a video of ANOTHER person talking about Jamesy ripping them off: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsD-wodn288 Apparently Jamesy had stolen a blog post that this person wrote about Lord of The Rings and they weren't known by anyone, they don't even like that article anymore, but still! Go see that video instead of watching Jamesy and support them if you find value on their work.
-Hey, Jamesy. Jamesy. You do know that epilepsy and head injuries or memory issues don't take you threaten, lie and weaponize your audience against people who call out your plagiarism with the evidence in hand, right? That has literally nothing to do actually, because you had to be aware off of the issue for you to lie about it after someone else brought it up. After the first time it happened, you could have hired another beta reader to tell you that ups, your memory/epilepsy/memory issues/ADHD strike again and you don't remember from where you took that quote from, sorry! You had money for that expensive ass camera, you could have. -Like, my guy, there were so many steps involved here. So many steps from writing, production, backlash and your response to the backlash. Even if any part on this was an honest mistake, something I don't fucking believe in because fuck you, you had millions of opportunities to rectified it and change it. And yet you didnd't. And so here we are, without you receiving not even a miserable fucking like. Go to hell. A mistake doesn't get repeated so many times for years. That was all a choice, bitch. Fuck you.
And here is where I stopped because his voice is like nail on my ears.
Don't look at his video, it's truly not worth it. DON'T LEAVE COMMENTS EITHER, YOUTUBE TAKES THAT AS ENGAGEMENT ANYWAY.
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juneberrie · 2 years
Text
you always have been
thinking thoughts. *ೃ༄ this is very self indulgent im not sorry <3 btw the formatting is terrible 😭 also this is 1.5k words im so proud of myself its literally the longest fic i've ever written
pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader
fandom: outerbanks
warnings: swearing, mentions of being drunk, reader kind of pushes jj away, insecure!reader, stressed out!reader, mentions of jj's trash dad, fear of abandonment, sort of a smau? science hw (yes thats a warning science hw sucks), love confession, hurt/comfort <3
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jj's instagram is a mess. it alternates between pictures of random objects, pictures of himself, and pictures of our friends.
lately, all of his pictures have been pictures of him and the pogues at keggers and on the boat. without me.
the most recent one is a blurry shot of him and kie at the boneyard. his hair is dripping wet and kie is holding up a red solo cup, beer sloshing over the side. the caption reads, "my brst girl 😋 ilysn kier.carrera" its so misspelled its obvious hes drunk, even without looking at the picture.
—————
↳ comments
-> jb.wifirouter ong your so drunk. ↳ heywpope its "youre" not "your" 💀 and you're durnk too ↳ sarahcamer0n lmaooo durnk
-> kier.carrera lol ilyt jj 💀 ↳ kier.carrera wsit wring emoji ❤️
—————
i groan and shut my phone off. kie knows i like jj. she's heard me rant about him since eighth grade. its fine, though. i need to focus on school. i get up and silence my phone, putting it into a drawer at my desk before going back to the papers sprawled on my bed.
science isn't my best subject, but i need this extra credit to bring my grade up. and, no pressure at all, this stupid extra credit is due by monday, at its literally sunday night. at least its pretty easy. all i have to do is write an essay about newton's laws and how they function in the "real" world. i sigh and open my textbook to the page on the first law, inertia.
as im scribbling down the beginnings of the paragraph about f=ma, my pencil breaks. well, how fucking dandy. i get up and head to my desk to grab a sharpener, and i pass the mirror next to my door.
i cringe away, then force myself to look back. the girl staring back at me is... not kie. not sarah. she's wearing a big oversized t-shirt she stole from jj and some shorts. her nail polish is chipped and her hair is practically crying for escape from the worn scrunchie.
i tear my gaze away and grab the sharpener. the clock on my desk reads 11:11 pm. i remember something kie said about making wishes at 11:11, so i think, why not give it a try? i squeeze my eyes shut and hope my wish gets to whatever magical star angel being is listening.
after i finish my essay, its 12:23 am. i grab my phone from the drawer and see a flurry of texts and instagram notifications assaulting my lock screen.
i ignore the texts — six from kie and eight from jj — and click open instagram.
my homepage is filled with pictures of the pogues at the kegger they're at. i can't help the pettiness that surges up inside me and i click on jj's most recent story, a video of him, kie, pope, john b, and sarah screaming the lyrics to bohemian rhapsody around a campfire.
—————
you replied to their story
yourinstagram looks like you're having fun :)
—————
i feel slightly terrible, but whatever. every single kegger they've been to this past week, i haven't been invited.
a text notification comes down onto my screen. it's from kie. the preview reads "im soo sorru"
what the hell? i immediately click on the text and i almost start crying.
—————
kie kie ml ♡
bro so dnt be mad but like i accidentally told jj that u liked him
im sorry
answer me please idont want yu to be mad
i dd;t mean to i swaer
y/n?? are you mad??
y/n pleeaas answre
im soo sorru
bro wtf.
ik im sorry but we were playing truuth or dsre and plpe asked if i had acrush on anybody and i sadi no i didn't but ik you did and the n jj asked who and im sorry :)
:(*** SORRY
whatever. go enjoy your kegger.
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what the everloving fuck. i specifically told her not to tell anyone, especially jj, and she goes and tells everyone and their mother. i've gotten a flurry of texts from pope, john b, sarah, and other pogues i suppose are at the kegger, all asking me if it's true i like jj. and, speak of the devil, jj himself has been texting me nonstop for the past thirty minutes.
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golden retriever lookin' mf 😋
haha kie jus told me the funnist shut
wait is she for real
wait n/n yuo like me
like fr fr?
brp answer me pls
y/nnnnnn
are you asleepo r somethinh 💀
y/n if you dpn't answer rn rn im going ovet to yiur house
—————
shit. jj can't come over right now. i look like a mess, and now im fucking crying. my gaze drifts back over to the mirror; my eyes are red and puffy and tears are streaming down my face and dripping down onto my (jj's) shirt.
—————
golden retriever lookin' mf 😋
jj please dont come over just stay at the kegger and have fun
nooo y/n im already on my wsy so its fine
—————
shit shit shit.
i throw my phone across the room and scream into my bedsheets. the pogues already didn't like me anymore; they had been going out and having fun without for weeks now, and now kie tells jj i like him? my life is fucking falling apart.
a knock at my window wakes me up from whatever sad haze i was trapped in for the last twenty minutes. jj's peering in and he smiles when he meets my gaze. i shake my head and turn away from him.
no bother letting him in, he'll probably just tell me that he doesn't like me back and to never talk to him again.
another knock, persistent, sounds from the window. i sigh and turn back.
i open the window but leave the screen up, so jj can hear me but he can't get in. "go away, j."
"nooo. wait, why are you cryiinggg?" he asks, the booze slurring his words.
"nothing. no reason. go away, please, jj," i say, my voice cracking.
his face softens and he seems to sober up a bit. "n/n, please tell me what's wrong. i hate seeing you sad," he whispers. fuck. i can't, i can't with the fucking blue eyes and the soft looks and the whispers. i open the rest of the window, and jj climbs in.
i crawl under the covers of my bed and face away from jj. i feel the bed dip next to me and he lays a warm hand on my back. its so casual, so domestic, that i want to laugh.
"sunshine, what's wrong? is this about what kie said?" he asks, gently rubbing my back.
the dam breaks. tears start flowing out of my eyes and i started shaking.
"it is about what kie said. i like you, jj, i really like you. no, i- i love you! i love you so much. i've loved you since i first saw you in mrs. williams' science class in eight grade and you laughed when she said that iron was discovered by the hittites. and i know you'll never love me back because— well— look at me! im not like kie, im not like sarah. i'm just... me! and i've been trying to pretend like you guys going to keggers everyday without me isn't a big deal because, hey, i'm swamped with school, even though its fucking intercession. and i knew if i told you, you'd hate me and you'd never talk to me again," i sob into my pillow.
jj is silent for a few seconds, still rubbing my back.
"i love you too, sunshine. i've loved you for the entirety of the time i've known you. and, you're right. you're not kie or sarah, but you're you. that's what i love about you. you are unapologetically yourself. and i'm sorry for not inviting you to the keggers. i just, i knew you were swamped and i know you don't really like parties 'nd drinking and shit. and i just want you to know that im so proud of you, honey, and— jesus, y/n. you're the only one for me. you always have been. you're the person who's been there whenever luke did something shitty to me, you've helped me with my homework, and gosh, dare i say it, you've helped me be a better person."
he chuckles. i feel him press a kiss to the back of my neck and gently bring me towards him so i'm basically in his lap. he wraps his arms around me and lays his head in the crook of my neck. we stay together in a comfortable silence for a few moments.
i sniffle. "i'm sorry, j."
"you're not the one who should be apologizing, sunshine. i love you, so much. i'm sorry if i made you feel like i'd never talk to you again or like you weren't enough; you are enough. you always have been."
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acewoo · 6 months
Text
~ 𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶
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Satoru Gojo x Reader
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nsfw, flirting, oral sex, fingering, praise, fem!reader
Word count: 1.2k
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You and Satoru have been dating for some time and now, his birthday has finally come around. And boy were you planning to make it perfect. After all, it had to be after the absolute dream of a birthday Gojo had planned for you.
You were wrapping one of the presents you had gotten for him as a notification from your phone played.
Toru ♥️
Guess what day it is~
Of course, it was him who else would it be? You let out a small chuckle as you type a response
You
Thursday?
Toru ♥️
Don't tell me you've forgotten :c
You
Ofc I haven't, I'm just kidding Toru’
Happy birthday 🎁
You two continued to text back and forth for a bit before he said he had to go take a shower. At that time you had gone back to wrapping his presents along with writing a small birthday note. While the gifts you had gotten him weren't nearly as flashy or pricey as the ones he had gotten for you on your birthday, the note that you had thrown in and what would come after it would make up for it. Once the note was finished you lace it within an envelope, gather all his gifts and neatly display them front and center on your kitchen table. Your phone buzzes again.
Toru ♥️
Soooooo
When u coming over ;)
You
I'll come over soon toru dw
Js need to prep some stuff
Toru ♥️
Ok come soon tho
I don’t want to be all alone on my birthday
:<
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Before driving to Gojo’s place you make sure you have everything ready. After confirming that everything was packed and ready you go into your room and change into the new mini-skirt Gojo had gotten you a week prior.
You
Coming over now
Toru ♥️
Was starting to think u wouldn't
You
I told you I had stuff to get ready
Toru ♥️
Not a good enough answer 👎
The text made you giggle as you unlocked your car to head over; Satoru really was a child trapped in a 27-year-old's body.
Upon arriving you're greeted by a very happy Gojo who opens his mouth before you can even get one foot in. “Took you long enough, I was getting so lonely.~” Rolling your eyes you step inside taking your shoes off. As you do Satoru takes notice of the large gift bag that had been attached to the side of your shoulder. “what's inside there?” he asks, already trying to peek inside it. Before he could though you quickly snatch the bag and respond.
“No peeking, you'll see soon enough” Satoru pouts as he shuts the door behind him. “I see you wearing the mini-skirt I got you,” he says in a much more flirty manner.
“Figured it'd be a good first time to wear it.” you hum as you bend over to place his gift bag on the table. Before you could turn back around, Satoru already had his hands firmly wrapped around your waist. “Keep doing stuff like that might also be the last time you wear it too.” his voice was low and was a clear warning. In which you challenge. “And why would that be Toru?~”
He leans deeper into your back, his lips lazing over your ear, with his breath going down your neck. “Oh so is that how we're playing?” his one hand starts tracing down your skirt as he teases the bottom of the trim. “Of course, I don't mind. In fact, I'd be more than happy to win against you…” his voice is dangerously quiet, and you can already feel the heat intensify between your legs.
“Satoru what abo-“ he cuts you off by pressing his finger from his other hand to your lips and hum “shhhhhh we’ll both enjoy this princess don’t worry.~” his hand then continues slipping further, till it rests under your skirt, his fingers teasing your panties. “I wonder, you're wearing the underwear I got you too?~” your cheeks flash red, giving him all he needed. “Wow I guess you really are eager to please me on my special day aren’t you?~” his fingers curl up in your underwear feeling your wet slick that had already been dripping out of your cunt.
As his fingers continue to explore he rests his lips on the side of your neck. “So fucking eager for me.” his fingers draw down your panties while his other hand reaches down to your waist. As his hand traces down you breathly speak. “T-toru.”
He hums “what is it?~” his thumb starts making circles on your cilt causing you to fold further into the table. “Come on, no need to be shy now.” His thumb presses a bit harder, just enough so the tips of his finger slip inside you. In response you let out a light whimper.
Satoru starts kissing your neck while breathlessly speaking. “So sensitive for me.” He removes his thumb and instead has two fingers slowly enter inside you. “You’ve been so quiet… it’s unlike you, yah know… I want to hear you dear.~” he’s pressed up against you more as his fingers begin to scissor inside you.
As his fingers continue to move inside your drenched walls, his other free hand removes itself from your waist and motions to lean you down against the table. And you comply. “So fucking good for me yah know that?” As he praises you his fingers reach a bit too far inside you when they curl cause you to moan in pleasure. Satoru had a slightly sadistic grin as he saw how much that affected you. So he did it again, and again, and again. Making you cum multiple times.
“T-Toru please- I can’t…. Take anymore..” you shakily let out. Satoru then takes out his fingers sucking your cum off them as if it was candy. “You taste so fucking good babe you know that?” He says completely ignoring your struggled comment moments ago. As he stops sucking on his fingers he then purrs in your ear. “You know…. Just that sample of you wasn’t enough…” Satoru wanted to eat you out right there. And hey, it’s his birthday so who are you to deny him of his wish… not that you could say much right now anyways.
Gojo then helps you get up only to slam you against the couch. He lifts you up to have better access to your pussy as your legs open for him. He wasted no time leaning in under your skirt to begin a cat licking your clit. The moans you were letting out was music to his ears. “So perfect for me…” he continues to eat you out and you could feel yourself getting close. “Toru- gonna c-cu” he cuts you off with a comment of his own. “Do it for me” and just like that your cum shit onto Gojos tongue which was still logged inside you.
Once your release is calmed down Gojo removes himself from your pussy looking down upon you. You were a panting mess and he loved it. He then gives you his signature childish grin as he speaks. “Soooo, can I open my gifts now” , having somewhat of a composure now, you throw the closest pillow near you at him. “This was supposed to be after you opened your presents dummy!”
“Awe but, you know I can’t help myself around you!” You sigh laughing. “Yeah yeah, happy birthday satoru.”
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marksbear · 2 years
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Ok hear me out, Simon “Ghost” Riley x flirty!reader where the readers just very jokey and flirty all the time and ghost can’t stand itttt (he’s denying his feelings👹)
Ghost is just like “you won’t be laughing/acting like that when you get shot out in the field” and the readers like “bet- watch me mf” and then gets injured and while Ghost is tending to him he’s STILL flirting and Ghost is just like “this man is gonna be the death of me💀”
Idk if you write for Ghost but if you do I’ll love you forever if you write this please and thank you xxx😽🫶
I'm on the job I hope you enjoy my friend And I love you too! C/n MEANS CODE NAME
WARNINGS- Headcanons, fluff with angst bottom, pinning,pda, gentle ghost, slapping, teasing, guns,violence.
SIMON RILEY AKA GHOST X MALE READER.
BEFORE DATING!
The first thing you said to him was "I bet you wanna kiss me with the mask. I mean I don't mind."
You said it to him cause he was staring you down like you just murdered his family. So when you turned around to see who the hell was staring at you so hard it was a man in a mask. So without thinking you said it. After you realized you said that out loud you covered your mouth with a gasp and a sorry.
And that's when he knew. The C/n had to go. In full honestly he was gonna try to get you killed in missions whenever you spend too much time flirty with him or others.
He is so jealous whenever you flirt with other people. Like he'll feel betrayed even though you two aren't dating yet. So when you do it he'll get all snappy and send off the person that you were flirting with somewhere else so they can work without you being a distraction.
He never wants to be in a room alone with you. Because it's simple you tease and flirt with him too much. Always pin him to a wall or something hard. Even pinned him a weapon crate. Even if you're smaller or taller than him. If you're smaller you'll grab him by the jaw on his mask forcing him to look down at you while you push him on a flat surface. But when you're taller than him you push him by his shoulder,arms or waist trapping him under you. Both sizes end up getting your shit slapped the hell out of you by him.
When you flirt during missions like saying "Before we run to our deaths I want to make an announcement about how good ghosts look. Can I get an amen gentlemen?" With some soldiers saying amen and laughing and running away from ghosts together.
You saying "This for you love." before shooting an enemy and blowing a kiss at him. Anytime you have to go by yourself or with anyone else you ask him for a good luck kiss with a smile but just get told "Fuck off and die" as a answer and you respond saying "I love you to babe" before leaving him.
On a mission you were on with him and a couple of other soldiers. whispering and giggling jokes to one another and ghosts giving yall death glares specifically YOU whisper yelling to you "Shut up before you get us all killed! Then I bet ya you won't be laughin" He means every word of that he said with a bit of jealousy because he wants you to stop giving them so much of your attention and give it all to him .
WHEN YOU TWO START DATING
You were still a headache. But this time you were his headache.
When you flirt with anyone besides him and get all pissy. He'll drag you away from the person by your shirt "Sorry mate but Mr C/n and I gotta work on something." He says to the person or he doesn't say anything at all just yanking you away from the person.
Anytime you two get separated from a mission and haven't seen each other in days or hours you two wouldn't care if anyone saw. But you two usually run into the others arms hugging and smiling ear to ear but for the days part Ghost picks you up in his arms you can be the top in the relationship or taller than him he'll still pick you up for a embrace. Or when one is you are badly hurt you or him would cry in the other arms saying "Don't leave me" "Im here." "Thank god you're alive." As an example
You switch guns sometimes and the gang always tease ghosts when they notice. Always picking at him playfully and calling him a loverboy or a lovesick puppy.
CALLING HIM BABE. WHILE HE CALLS YOU IDIOT.
"That's my idiot for ya" He says to someone watching you try to do a trick shot after screaming on top of your lungs at him "This is for you BABE!"
Making out with him in the medbay. Or after you two clear a room after a fierce battle he pulls the mask up but only his lips are visible. And you two makeout with all the adrenaline pumping in yalls veins.
Always having each other back. Standing up for the other and maybe with the other is the complete wrong yall still stand up for them. When one of you messes up on a mission the other usually takes the blame and breaks out as a couple arguments as to who's lying or not. But ultimately saying both of you did it.
Anytime Ghost is in danger you'll stop anything and even risk everyone else's lives for his. Like leaving the group to find him. Or killing everyone in your path even the people you're not supposed to and not giving a shit. Only Ghost matters and yourself in your opinion.
YALL TWO HAVING A TEAM COMBO!! AND A DUO TEAM NAME
Comforting one another when the other feels stressed from a mission or a task. Taking the others task or mission.
A LITTLE ANGST IDEA.
You die first in the relationship. You took some heavy bullets for him smiling at him while you die slowly. He probably doesn't cry about your death in the day but the next day ,months,YEARS. He'll most def gonna cry. "Here babe...wear these you'll look better than me when I wore it." You say smiling while blood comes out of your mouth. "It's a shame we can't get married... right now. Maybe in a different life just promise me you'll look for me." Ghost takes the dog tags out of your hand and sets your head in his lap. "I love you babe...promise me that you'll win this for me." You say raising up your hand pulling his mask off and him leaning down to kiss you.
"I love you Simon Riley l/n" You say on his lips still kissing him
"I love you too Y/n Riley L/n"
With the finale I love you some of your blood in Simon's mouth he places a hand on your head feeling it slow down and your body getting colder. He picks up your body taking it back to camp. Wearing your dog tags proudly on his neck.
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fandomsnstuff · 7 months
Text
Something short and sweet for @taznovembercelebration day 10
Day 10: sick
The Taaco twins have one cardinal rule: if you receive a text consisting of SOS and a number, you call your twin in that many minutes and give them an excuse to leave wherever they are. No questions asked.
Read it on AO3
Taako's having a nondescript night at home when his phone lights up with a text.
lupdelup
SOS 7
He waits exactly seven minutes, then calls her.
“Hello?” She should get an Oscar for that greeting alone. It's a perfect tone of slight confusion with a tinge of concern.
“Lup,” he puts on a performance of his own, making his voice sound weak and strained, “you gotta come home right now.”
“Taako? Are you okay? What's going on?”
“I'm really sick,” he lays dramatically on the couch for effect, tossing an arm over his eyes, “I haven't been able to keep anything down, and we're out of tums and tylenol.”
“Alright, it's okay.” Her voice quiets a bit through the phone as she talks to the shmuck that she was convinced to go on a date with, “I'm sorry, I gotta go. My brother-”
“He's a grown man.” The guy's voice is quiet, seeing as the phone isn't on speaker, but Taako's able to pick it out. “Sit down.” He sounds like a douche.
“Lup,” he groans, “my stomach hurts so bad, and I'm burning up. I think I need to go to the hospital.”
“He's in a really bad way,” she says to the guy, “I need to go help him.”
He can only get a vague impression of the guy grumbling, but Lup says goodbye to him and a moment later, she says into the phone, “what a fucking asshole.”
He drops the ailing brother act, “that bad, huh?”
“Ugh,” he hears her car door slam, “me telling him I needed to leave just now was the most words I've been able to say in a row all night.”
“Gross.”
“Just wait ‘til I get home, it gets worse.”
“I'll see you soon.”
“Thank youuuuu.”
They hang up, and Taako goes back to his show. About 25 minutes later, the door swings open and slams shut.
“This fucking guy-”
About a month later, Taako's home alone again while Lup's out on a date. But he isn't waiting for an SOS, because this date in particular is with one Barry Bluejeans. Lup probably wouldn't admit it, but she's been cuckoo for him from the moment she laid her eyes on him and he opened his mouth. As far as Taako's concerned, they've been going on dates for ages now, they just lied to themselves and said they were hanging out as friends. But this date is for realsies. “We said it was romantic and everything,” Lup had told him a few days prior, buzzing with excitement.
Lup said she'd be back later that night, but he's honestly not expecting to hear from her until morning. So when his phone lights up, he's confused.
lupdelup
SOS 2
Taako scoffs and goes against SOS protocol, texting her back:
🌮🔔
No
lupdelup
what?
🌮🔔
Unless you give me a reason, absolutely not
lupdelup
I thought the whole point of this system was no questions asked
🌮🔔
I've had to listen to you talk about this guy for YEARS
You get all wistful about it every single time
If you tell me he's a creep or a douche or secretly racist or something, ill call you, but im not giving you a bail out call if you're just getting all in your own head overthinking and freaking out about being on a date with THE barold bluejaens.
lupdelup
Taako please i dont know if i can do this
🌮🔔
Of course you can, you're LUP
He's lucky that you're into him and i know that he knows that
Tell you what
I'll give you an SOS 60
lupdelup
60 is so many though
🌮🔔
I'll call you in an hour. If you still want to bail, then bail. But go back to your man and enjoy it. From what I know about him, it'll be the best date you've been on in months
lupdelup
Maybe even years.
🌮🔔
I'll talk to you in an hour
lupdelup
Fine
Asshole.
Taako sets himself a timer for 60 human minutes and goes about his evening. When it goes off, he considers not calling and waiting to see how long it'll take her to notice. But he's a man of his word, especially for Lup, so he calls. It rings, and rings, and rings. Taako's hopeful, Lup almost always picks up SOS calls on the second ring. It rings one more time before he's sent to voicemail.
The phone beeps in his ear.
“Your call has been forwarded to our automatic voice message system. Lup Taaco isn't available right now. Leave a message after the tone.”
“Told you,” he says, and hangs up.
Lup doesn't come home until morning.
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