#or co-admins or something
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Visit Tumblr Blog
Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
Tumblr was attacked by a cross-site scripting worm deployed by the Internet troll group GNAA on Dec 3, 2012.
Text
what if I made a discord server for star rail and genshin fans to come join me and be friends and post silly things to make each other laugh and play silly little games like themed gartic phone and stuff and maybe do cute projects together
#im in a server for people who play those games but its also generally more centered on foc writing but my friend invited me#what if i made one thats for being silly and having fun in particular#just silly positive vibes where you can go to turn that frown upsidedown or something!#only problem is i have a bad habit of enjoying creating a server but cannot run it. need mods to run it for me......#or co-admins or something#but i never got any help on the ones ive made before so im not sure how you appoint mods and stuff 😅#i just like creating and organizing things and throwing out random ideas once in a while and disappearing the next second
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
look at this idiot not aware that his body is warm and his touch comforting everyone point and laugh
#homestuck#hom3stuck#home24uck#home2t4ck#dirk strider#jake english#dirkjake#admin draws#fanart#i got sick of looking for a ref so i doodled this real quick yesterday#ive been in a 'need hug' mood especially after the exam and sleeplessness preceding it#and thinking stuff#so what better way to process all of this than you guessed it. shoving it onto dirk#short tags this time cos im doing something else but i have lots of things i want to make.... its a shame im not feeling it again#if someone wants to give me excuses to talk about them the ask box is open for more than just rqs
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
some more time skip pauling
#tf2#team fortress 2#miss pauling#I’m gonna talk about my headcanons in the tags now ok#i think during the 7 year timeskip she probably took some time off work but eventually went into a similar line of work as before#maybe back to Mann co. who knows. either way i like to think that the whole ordeal with the administrator had left her pretty aimless#so maybe after a couple of years of trying to figure shit out she goes back to her old job trying to feel Useful again#smth smth bad habits die hard etc. i think her desperation to prove herself and work to the death needs to be studied under a microscope#this time around though with the admin gone she really does prove herself and miss pauling goes from loyal assistant#to something of an administrator herself!#i think miss pauling is the most capable and adaptable character in the whole series#so i really wanna see her get one win. one shred of recognition#and maybe she gets it from herself if anything. I’d like to think she’s the same ol gal#but with a lot more confidence and assurance in her abilities :]
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
also wow zactoshi is a lot nicer to jn than i am. which makes sense but damn, i cant believe i thought myself a jn stan before if hes got positive opinions that dont align with my own
#tbf tho for some we’re definitely just looking for different things. tbc im not criticizing him at all ndndnjd im just commenting#like hes muuuuch nicer to the arceus special than i am. and i wish i could just love it as a dp stan#but man…… i wanted real legends arceus content more than dp fanservice yknow?#just move the team galactic stuff to bdsp and have ash and co actually go back in time to see some hisuian pokemon#ive said this before but jn is weirdly scared of time travel despite most series having a time travel episode#and several jn episodes that allude to celebi or dialga but refuse to involve actual time travel#not that dialga’s influence in the bdsp special wasnt scary (reverting pokemon to eggs is a scary and sad concept and i liked it a lot)#but like……… cmon guys you got the time travel legendary. have team galactic fuck around with it and it teleports everyone to hisui#i get maybe not wanting to spoil the games but i dont really think they could’ve spoiled much. we knew a good amount at that point that they#couldve worked with perfectly well. like alpha pokemon and the wardens#and cyllene was revealed!! you could do something with the admins thinking theyve found cyrus but its just his ancestor#and everyone meeting their own ancestors also couldve been cool#like. idk id have been fine with dp fanservice. i love dp! but i wish the pla special didnt just feel like another bdsp special#echoed voice
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#I feel like giving up#like I cant get a job#noone will give me an interview just a 'your application was unsuccessful'#no explanation just someone else was better I guess#but I'm applying for apprenticeships#the jobs that are for people with no skills becasue they teach you to do it on the job#hell I even got rejected from doing housekeeping and being an admin assistant#an admin assistant not admin#god fucking damn does that sting#so yeah wanna give up#not gonna though because theres life to live but goddamn is this crushing#I barely wanna do art too#like I wanna but I feel like its not worth it#cos when I do make art the only attention I really get is from my wife#and like thats nice#but its really disheartening to spend a lot of time on something and not have anyone acknowledge it#so similar feelings there I guess#no ones looking at my art or my job applications#like if I got one of them sorted I'd be good#cos I'd have money from either a job or commissions#but I don't got either#so my self esteem is really low rn and I dont know what to do with myself#I'm just rambling at this point#I'll shut up now and let you enjoy your dashboard now
1 note
·
View note
Text
YOUR BIGGEST FAN!
pro-hero katsuki bakugou x actress f ! reader ᯓ★ he finds out who the main admin is of his biggest fan page. 1.4k words. fluff / established relationship / not proofread / little smau at the end
spin-off from ‘a little mystery never hurt anybody’ [m���dni]
katsuki never cared about his image at all. nor did he care about what people post about him online. aside from his own beliefs, he only cares about what you think, and if you think he’s ‘fucking cool’ then he’s fucking cool.
he only ever checks social media and posts something that you’re a part of. if he had the chance to have all his platforms with a picture of you both or even just you, he’d do it—but you would scold him and tell him that he should just have a photo of himself. which you had to do instead since he’s stubborn and wouldn’t know what photo would look the best.
well fortunately for you, who has an album of pictures of him whether you took it yourself to gate-keep, from his fan sites, or his modeling / commercial projects just picked one portrait that would match his overall style. not too much, not too zoomed out, but still would exude that cool side that you loved so much.
and the moment you changed his profile you’re already switching to your verified fan account to notify your followers of his new profile photo. multiple notifications spawn at your lockscreen, the tweet already blew up too.
your co-admins don’t even know that it was the ‘dazzling actress y/n’ running the account in the first place, and it was for the better. you always had this account the moment katsuki was in his third year in UA. usually posting threads about how amazing of a hero he is, or his rankings in the recent fan polls such as ‘hottest hero’ or ‘most powerful rookie hero quirks!’ and your favorite, ‘heroes i wanna get in bed with.’ just from that, anyone other than you knowing your identity would be real bad.
pro-hero dynamight always had a loyal fanbase anyway. and you were always the first account they’d come to for any news on him.
when you started dating you had to ask for some help which is why you had some of your followers (who have been supporting your blog for so long too!) to assist you when you couldn’t post as frequently as you used to. it was easy to juggle the fan account while you were starting as an actress, but when you started dating katsuki, manning the page is a big challenge. he’ll definitely find out in no time since personal space was thrown out the window when you became his.
you wanted to keep it a secret since you were still such a big fan and it felt like a waste deleting the account since you worked so hard on it—pouring so much passion on it despite being with the main source. there were even times when you begged your staff to get him to sign your merch, which you happily post on the fan page too, wearing thick gloves because you figured katsuki would recognize you immediately.
sometimes you would slip and mess up. your co-admin posting about katsuki taking a photo of your new digital billboard by the station. and you accidentally quoted the tweet on your fan page that reads ‘he really likes me~’ and you immediately take it down before the viewer count goes up.
it was a very close call, and when someone did ask you about it since some of them had notifications on for your account you just made up an excuse like ‘i mean y/n! sorry it was a typo.’
sometimes you’d get katsuki to look at the fan page when you both have free time. and he only ever likes the tweets when it involved you. like when you’re both spotted on a date, or a quote from an interview of him promoting your own projects.
you begged him to follow and he didn’t really think that much of it. shrugging and pressing the button and going back to indulging himself beside you.
you never really post any updates on the pro-hero that’s related to you though. and when you do find out about it, you had your co-admins to thank. especially for that one video clip of him struggling to take a picture of another billboard you had in the middle of the city.
until one day, the two of you were apart for a bit. he was out on a mission, and it’s sad that he couldn’t spend the first few days of your break with you.
nonetheless, you are currently working with his fan sites near the area for some updates on him at the time. you end up missing him too much when they send you the photos in your direct messages. though, “he looks really good,” you think to yourself. up in the air with that pretty grin of his whenever he wins.
on your fan page you always have that certain ‘watermark’ when you make a post. ending the tweet with ‘admin ⭐️💥’ to indicate that it was you posting.
quickly, you make a new post about his new feat, scheduling to have it posted on the next day.
you didn’t think much of it, just happy that your boyfriend was safe and he could come home earlier to you.
when you wake up, katsuki’s already back home seated on his side of the bed. but what was unusual was for him to be on his phone this early. concerned, you reach out to him, hoping there wasn’t an emergency or anything bad that happened.
then he starts laughing that goofy laugh of his that you love. which gets you to giggle yourself, “what’s so funny?” you give him a kiss on his cheek as a morning greeting. it’s nice waking up to him so happy, until you feel your own face drop in horror on the screen.
it was your tweet, with that exact format that you always used—not on your fan page, but at your own main account with already thousands of engagement. you feel yourself sink in your spot on the bed.
you did it now, you knew you shouldn’t be posting when you’re sleepy. now you fucked up, big time. you don’t even want to know the replies on that post, and you couldn’t even face your boyfriend who’s already crying from laughing so hard.
“you’re such a dumbass no wonder you kept pestering me about this fan account.”
you groan, hiding yourself under the covers. you couldn’t even imagine what’s going to become of you and how your manager’s going to react. it’s not like you could just abandon your following either! “it’s different as a fan!”
you take your phone from the bedside table and delete the tweet immediately. it’s been 30 minutes after you scheduled it, but there’s nothing you could even do to remedy the mistake. not when thousands have already seen your tweet. you don’t even know how to tell your co-admins who probably found out your real identity.
“just kill me!” you say, wrapping the comforter around you which leaves nothing for him anymore. he puts his phone down and wraps an arm on you. “don’t be so fuckin’ embarrassed babe. if it helps i’m your number one fan too.”
you won’t budge, staying still in your self made blanket burrito with a pout. facing away from him and with a huff. you were so embarrassed that your whole body freezes, and your mind goes blank. “hey come on, i’m happy about it!” you hear him say.
you could already feel the scoldings of your manager, you just hope this is mainly good publicity if it resurfaces—because you’re damn sure a lot of your shared fans are going to spread it all over the net.
“don’t fuckin’ ignore me babe! i’m really damn flattered here!” and he’s laughing again. he really couldn’t take it seriously, and you really wish this was just a really bad dream. it’s not like you wanted to keep it a secret forever! but you didn’t think he’d find out this way, bummer.
he pulls you on top of him, kissing all over your pouting face that’s sticking out from the thick comforter. “ah fuck this is so good! i bet when we get married you’re just on your phone posting live updates or some shit.”
you’re never going to hear the end of this. especially not when he digged a little deeper and found your ‘thirst’ postings from years ago. oh well, at least he knows you’ve always loved him. it was honestly such an ego boost learning his girlfriend just ‘as obsessed’ as he is towards you. besides, his page was almost a fan page of you in itself. whatever, you’re gonna laugh it off next week anyway.
at least you’ve given him another new thing that has him head over heels for you again.
bonus!
do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : aaaaa this was so funny to me idk T^T it’s really stupid
#bnha fluff#mha fluff#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou fluff#bakugou fluff#bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#my hero academia fluff#ᦾִ❤︎ by cola
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Scream Queen
Pairing: charles leclerc x horror actress!reader
summary: charles loves his girlfriend so much — and he makes it everyone else’s problem
a/n: requested by a lovely anon — while I try to keep it fairly neutral in terms of face claims, this piece was written with one in mind! Anon - I hope you like it!
a/n: this was the quickest piece I have ever written tbh — done in only a couple of hours
fc: samara weaving mostly
moviestudio
liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, user, user, and 13,244,934 others
tagged: yourinsta
moviestudio: are you prepared? Because Ready or Not y/n is coming to you 2/14!
view all comments
charles_leclerc: so pretty ma chérie…liked by yourinsta
user1: a Valentine’s Day horror movie? Sign me up!
↳user2: ummm no??
↳user1: wha??? But??? Please?
↳user2: no
↳user1: no even for y/n?
↳charles_leclerc: go! For y/n!
↳user2: …fine
↳user1: yes! Thanks charles_leclerc
yourinsta: this was a prime chance for some Taylor lyrics admin…
↳moviestudio: sorry queen — next time
user3: one of these days I’m gonna get here before Charles does
↳charles_leclerc: no you won’t ☺️
↳user3: I’m making it my life’s mission
↳charles_leclerc: you will fail ☺️
↳yourinsta: Charlie…
↳charles_leclerc: 🥰🥰🥰
↳user3: …to be loved like y/n is loved by Charles…
user4: I’m excited for all the photo dumps Charles is gonna have soon
↳user5: right? Like how does he have the time to visit her sets so much?
↳charles_leclerc: love! ♥️
↳yourinsta: he bribes my costars
↳charles_leclerc: ♥️♥️♥️
user6: i wonder how the grid feels about y/n?
↳user7: what?
↳user6: well he’s always talking about her in his interviews? Does he yap about her outside of them?
↳landonorris: yes
↳carlossainz55: yes
↳maxverstappen1: more then i do about anything
↳georgerussell63: With great frequency!
↳lewishamilton: all the time
↳nicorosberg: I will sometimes skip him when interviewing because I’m tired of it
↳jensonbutton: I’ll find him if I need some uninterrupted chatting time
↳user8: you mean when you’re tired of your co-host liked by jensonbutton
alex_albon: oh no…another one?
↳yourinsta: something to say albono?
↳alex_albon: well…
↳charles_leclerc: 🤨🤨🤨
↳alex_albon: nothing at all actually!
↳yourinsta: good choice!
Private Messages
y/n_gossippage
liked by charles_leclerc, user, user, and 1,297,455 others
tagged: yourinsta
y/n_gossippage: as our drought of y/n red carpet looks comes to an end, I’d like to refresh our memories on how good she always looks!
view all comments
charles_leclerc: C'est la plus belle femme du monde, non? She is the most beautiful woman in the world, no?
user9: oh god i remember that blue dress…charles was so fucking tongue tied…
user10: the red one? Slayed. Slayed the house down
↳user11: oh my god yes! Stunning
↳charles_leclerc: she is always stunning!
user12: the green one at the premier of X? Changed the direction of my life
↳user13: mine too but that was because charles kept running into walls cause he was too busy staring at her
↳user12: ok but do you blame him?
↳charles_leclerc: no ☺️
↳user13: simp 🫵
↳charles_leclerc: for her? Always! 🥰🥰
user14: the pink dress for the London premiere of Pearl is my all time favorite and I won’t take any criticisms
↳charles_leclerc: same ♥️♥️
↳user14: me 🤝 charles 🤝 simping for his girlfriend
↳charles_leclerc: no 😡 only me!
↳user14: chill dude. I’m not trying to take your girl. I’m just singing her praises
↳charles_leclerc: as you should 🥰
Private Messages
yourinsta
liked by charles_leclerc, costar1, maxverstappen1, and 2,123,823 others
tagged: moviestudio, costar1, costar2, costar3
yourinsta: some bts for Ready or Not
view all comments
costar1: you look stunning covered in blood
↳yourinsta: don’t I??
user15: here before charles!
↳charles_leclerc: i will run you over
↳yourinsta: Charlie…we talked about this
↳user15: thank you 🙏 y/n
↳user3: I’m so jealous
↳charles_leclerc: user3 I told you you’d never be able to
user16: I’m so ready for this movie
↳user17: omg same
moviestudio: really?
↳yourinsta: sorry 🥺🥺🥺
↳moviestudio: ok i guess it’s alright queen
↳user18: ok but to be so loved by a movie studio they let these thing slide??
↳moviestudio: she is our scream queen!
↳charles_leclerc: no she’s mine!
↳user18: deep breaths dude we ALL know she’s yours liked by charles_leclerc, yourinsta
Private Messages
y/n_gossippage
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, user, and 1,235,923 others
tagged: yourinsta, charles_leclerc
y/n_gossippage: some more shots of y/n in Ready or Not!
view all comments
charles_leclerc: Quelle mariée magnifique tu fais mon amour. What a stunning bride you make my love.
↳yourinsta: oh my love ♥️♥️♥️
user20: can…can Charles fight? Cause good god she’s fucking stunning
↳charles_leclerc: I can! 😉
↳charles_leclerc: and I will!
↳user20: that emoji winks better than you liked by yourinsta, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pierregasly
user21: god can you imagine y/n in her actual wedding dress???
↳charles_leclerc: yes! And I am!
↳yourinsta: Charlie 🥹🥹🥹???
↳charles_leclerc: 😘😘😘
↳user22: I’m so unbelievably jealous right now you have no idea
↳user21: of who??
↳user22: both tbh
user23: god imagining the leclerc-l/n wedding…
↳user24: tbh I’m shocked that it hasn’t already happened??
↳user23: right?? What’s happening there vroom vroom guy charles_leclerc?
↳charles_leclerc: trust the process please 🙏
arthur_leclerc: this post sent charles into a minor panic attack
↳y/n_gossippage: oops 😅 sorry about that
↳arthur_leclerc: I’m not. Do it again 🤣 liked by yourinsta
Private Messages
f1
liked by yourinsta, charles_leclerc, user, and 2,827,163 others
tagged: yourinsta
f1: are your ears ringing? Because we’ve got a Scream Queen in our midst for the preseason testing!
view all comments
user25: she’s so fucking classy
↳user26: always liked by yourinsta, charles_leclerc
user3: I FINALLY BEAT THE FRENCH MAN TO THE COMMENTS
↳charles_leclerc: I AM NOT FRENCH I AM MONÉGASQUE liked by yourinsta
↳user3: I DONT CARE I BEAT YOU!!!!
↳user27: love that y/n is just fueling his chaos today
oscarpiastri: hello mother?
↳yourinsta: …hello oscar
↳yourinsta: really Charles? Another one?
↳charles_leclerc: he asked so politely
↳yourinsta: fine. But only if i get the American one too
↳logansargeant: yo 🦅
↳yourinsta: welcome! I need back up against the rest of them
↳logansargeant: 🫡
iamrebeccad: oh I can’t wait to catch up!
↳yourinsta: it really has been too long
↳alex_albon: charles_leclerc you immediately lost your girl
↳charles_leclerc: …I’m aware
↳carlossainz55: we both are…
user28: oh I missed the Ferrari girls liked by iamrebeccad, yourinsta
↳user29: my skin is clear, my crops are flourishing, my vision has been corrected, i'm hydrated and well nourished, the sun is shining
↳user29: the stars of Ferrari are back together! liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55
↳user29: and the boys immediately prove they’re such simps for their girls liked by iamrebeccad, yourinsta
Private Messages
Taglist
@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby
#f1 smau#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 instagram au#formula 1 smau#formula 1 social media au#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#f1 fic#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula racing
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m Talking Nonsense╰┈➤ MR96
summary: everyone in the avalanche social media room knows that getting mikko rantanen to participate in content was a lost cause—that is until you showed up.
[word count] 4.3k
warnings: MATURE! flirting | lil bit of pining | mature themes | lil hot and heavy kissing | allusions to sex but no actual smut | read at your own discretion
a/n: okay…so obviously I started writing this before the trade—because nobody in their right mind was expecting mikko to get traded. but I digress, anyways! I originally wanted to post this on valentine’s day but in this moment of sadness, I knew all the mikko girls (myself included) needed this pick me up ❤️ to all you liking my old mikko fic—I see yall and we got this.
🎵 nonsense by sabrina carpenter
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
mikko rantanen didn't hate social media — actually, no he did hate it. the finnish native always knew it to be invasive and impersonal, and he'd rather not have to look at fake happy, posed pictures and videos that make his life feel less than. and that's coming for a guy living as a professional athlete.
so when tiktok started gaining more traction and other nhl teams were making accounts for their respective teams—mikko was dreading it. he thought there was a level of privacy that should be respected, and having a camera shoved in your face is totally breaching boundaries. the thought of the avalanche making an account was just not something he wanted.
after a shitty practice—hell even a good practice—the last thing he wanted was to be asked if he thought he could land a plane, or if he believes in aliens...mikko just wanted to go home.
and mikko understands that the social admin was simply doing their jobs, but he couldn't help but fill with irritation anytime they'd approach him with the phone and mini-microphone and/or question cup. it was the quickest way to piss him off.
it didn't help that the avalanche fans were always in the comments asking about his noticeable absence. they wanted to see more of their assistant captain outside of gruelling post-game interviews and game highlights—they wanted the real and fun side of mikko they very rarely had the chance of seeing.
but that didn't change mikko's opinion of social media—he'd avoid the admin team at any costs, especially when he saw that stupid tiktok phone and various props he knew he'd hate to use.
that is, until you showed up.
the first time mikko saw you—standing behind the usual admin suspects with a nervous gaze and fiddling hands—he didn't think much of it. sure, you were pretty, but mikko thinks a lot of girls are pretty.
but then as the months past and your surprisingly warm and bubbly personality began peeking through your hard exterior shell, mikko begin feeling intrigued. you are always smiling, even if someone is giving you a hard time—when he is giving you a hard time—and you're constantly trying to bond with the players. you remember who these athletes are at their core—human, which a lot of people in your job description seem to forget.
the team quickly grew fond of you, and when they saw it was you in the hallway with a cup of questions, or in their locker room with that stupid tiny microphone—the energy would shift. that's just how you are though—vibrant and welcoming, and the guys feed off that energy and turn into a fun group of giddy boys.
even nathan mackinnon, who was almost as turned off by social media as mikko, enjoyed your company, doing silly things for tiktok's he'd never even dreamed of.
it had mikko's own exterior beginning to crack. before he'd be more apprehensive to the idea of participating in social media trends he had no clue about, but you and your grin had him changing.
—
lina, your co-worker looks at you over the top of her laptop, analyzing your soft face as you work on your own computer—editing a tiktok that needed to go up today. you're left with very minimal time, as the avalanche practice finishes in 5 minutes. which means in 15 you both have to head down for some more content.
it's the third time in the past minute lina as looked at you—you can feel her eyes burning through the middle of your forehead. slowly, your eyes trial up and meet hers, a questioning pull to your furrowed eyebrows. "you okay?"
she huffs—not in annoyance or impatience, but rather curiosity. lina flicks her red hair over her shoulder, and then crosses her arms—her gaze never leaving yours. "i'm trying to figure out how you do it."
you're even more confused now. "do what?"
lina snorts like it's obvious. "you've been here five months, y/n. it's been five months of watching you work with the guys and more specifically, getting mikko to work with you."
your lips contort into a confused pout—any more confusion and your head will begin to pound. you're not sure what lina is trying to imply, because as far as you know all the guys on the avs are extremely good with you and have never given you a hard time—that's just how they are...right?
"mikko is great." you hum dismissively, your fingers resuming their place on your keyboard as you continue the code in your side bar to enable the audio change in the clip—attempting to remove ross' loud voice from the background so you can better hear cale's answer.
"that's the thing," lina starts, eyes full of amusement as she leans over the table. "he's really not."
you pause. "what?"
"before you showed up, mikko was always turning a blind eye to me and nick. if we even attempted to talk to him the way you do—well, it never ended how we wanted it to." her face contorts as if she's reliving it.
one of your brows raise in question. "did he like...sentence you to a guillotine or something?"
lina disapproves of your humorous tone, sending you daggers across the meeting room table. she shuts her laptop, resting her elbow atop the logo as she puts her chin in her palm. "ha ha."
satisfied with her pointed response, you get back to work. but, lina isn't done. "he hates this kind of stuff."
"no he doesn't," you retort quickly. "mikko seems happy when I have questions for him. in fact, yesterday he came over to me and asked for one—said something about how they 'make his day bright'" you mimic mikko's deep accent to the best of your abilities, but you sound more like a drowning troll rather than the 6"4 winger.
lina's eyes widen comically—she can't believe what's she's hearing. "anytime I even point the phone in his direction he scowls and walks away. so what are you doing to get him to cooperate?" she eyes you quizzically for a moment before a devious lightbulb goes off in her head, expression morphing into a playful, teasing one. "are you fucking him?"
you squeak, and your cheeks heat up to an undeniable level of embarrassment. "no!" and it's true—of course you're not sleeping with mikko.
she raises her hands in surrender, but her smile doesn't let up. "I wouldn't blame you if you were, y/n. he's hot—like stupid hot."
"okay," you huff, covering your burning cheeks with your hands. "maybe you should sleep with him then."
lina snorts. "trust me—if I could get near him I would."
"you know," you start, "I really don't think what you're saying is true. maybe mikko didn't like it in the past, but I think he's changed his option on the social media stuff."
she raises her brow—almost challengingly. "think so?"
"yup." you hum.
"let's test it, then." lina chimes. "today i'll go up to mikko first, and ill do exactly what you would do when approaching him. and when he sends me away—which he will—then you'll go up to him, and we'll see what happens."
it's tempting—mostly because you're certain there won't be a difference in the way mikko acts towards you then he does lina. sure, mikko isn't always the most sunshine and rainbows when it comes to his personality, but he's always been compliant with you.
so although he's broody and definitely not in love with the idea of having a camera in his face—you're sure he's not going to turn lina away.
"you're on."
it's not 5 minutes later you're both packing up your respective things, preparing to make your way down to the locker room where the guys are surly anticipating your and lina's arrival.
the room is bustling with people—half dressed hockey players and pressing reporters fill the locker room, which creates a slightly hectic environment—but you're used to it by now. so neither of you seem suspicious, you ask a few of the other avs players your selected questions for the day. questions you and lina had argued about for the entire morning—she thought most of them were stupid, you thought they were was hilarious.
plus, the reporters are still swarmed around mikko's stall—the finnish native standing in the middle with a deadpanned look on his face, barley listening to them as they ask the same repetitive questions as usual.
you and lina get some good content from ross colton and josh manson, both players giving you ridiculous and enthusiastic responses to the absurd questions you'd earlier shoved in the alumni silver cup.
lina's mischievous look is back as the sea of middle aged reporters move onto their next victim—cale makar—leaving mikko by his lonesome. "i'll be back." before you can react, she plucks the phone out of your hands, effortlessly making her way through the room until she's in front of mikko.
you strain your ears, but it's no use as the chatter in the locker room is too overpowering, and you're unable to hear lina or mikko. miles wood gives you an odd look—eyeing the way you stand ridged beside his stall, gnawing your thumb as you watch lina talk to the blonde winger—but you don’t notice.
it's only a moment before lina turns around, her grin even wider than it was before as she makes her way back towards you. "your turn." she chimes, thrusting the phone back in your palms.
"what happened?" you question.
lina raises one her brows, pushing you in the direction of mikko's stall. "he didn't want to answer anymore questions."
"okay," you draw. "so maybe I shouldn't go over there."
lina continues guiding you in his general direction. "no it's actually exactly why you should go over there."
you don't get to argue any further as you're suddenly right in front of mikko—almost too close, and if you take another step towards him you're thighs will bump his knees.
speaking of thighs—mikko's are on full display. the huge, muscle carved limbs spread wide as he manspreads in his stall. the expanse of smooth, hard skin making you feel flustered and suddenly intrigued. your eyes flicker upwards, finding the icy blue ones of mikko looking back at you.
you swallow, a heat rising to your cheeks. "hi, mikko."
"hi, y/n." he says your name playfully, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. "you okay?"
you nod too quickly and immediately curse yourself for acting so uncool. you've never been this nervous around any of the avs, especially not mikko, but lina's comments about his looks earlier are lingering in your mind—leaving you flustered.
because obviously you are aware mikko is hot, but now you can't help but be really aware of the fact. damn lina.
"yeah," you clear your throat, clutching the cellphone tightly in your hand. "I was actually just wondering if you'd answer a question for tiktok? for me? promise it'll be quick."
his eyes flicker over your warm, hopeful face, and after a beat he sighs gently, a quick nod following. "yeah I can do that for you."
you can't help the way your eyes widen at his agreement. mikko seems oblivious to your shocked state, removing his remaining elbow pad and tossing it towards the back of his messy stall.
you catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent, and even with the sweat lingering across his forehead and soaking his branded undershirt, mikko smells so good. he's always been enveloped in a cloud of clean laundry and something slightly woodsy, and even though you're extremely professional, it never fails to make you falter.
you clear your throat and your head. "really?"
mikko runs the damp towel previously hung around his neck through his messy curls, making the appearance of them even more fluffy and soft. his eyes twinkle with amusement, a matching half smile blossoming on his lips. "yeah, really. why do you sound shocked?"
you make a tiny noise of confusion in the back of your throat, shooting a glance to lina over your shoulder. she sends you a triumphant look, brow raised like she knew that she was right.
she is right.
you look back at mikko quickly, "I just thought..." you trail off, brows pulling tightly as you think about the excuse he gave to lina—you're so confused. you've never noticed before if mikko had a certain favouritism towards you over lina, or even nick. I mean, you never paid attention to anything like that—but now you feel like you should be more aware, because this doesn't make sense.
"you thought..?" mikko raises one eyebrow, waiting for the second half of your sentence.
"nothing." you blink quickly, adjusting the phone in your hand. "sorry, let's just get to it."
you're still in some sort of shock for the rest of the day—the pieces of the puzzle in your mind loose and turned upside down as you try and understand mikko's dismissal of lina, or better yet, his compliance with you.
it had you further trying to solve the mystery. does mikko just prefer you? does he like your voice over your co-workers? maybe you smell like his favourite desert? does he like you? does mikko want to fuck you?
you're not sure where to pinpoint the source, but you're also determined to find the answer. with some help for lina, and even a little input from nick, you conjure up a plan—which lina finds the upmost entertainment in.
but you mean nothing but business. for the next few weeks it's only you who works with mikko rantanen—it's you asking him questions and having him participate in stupid games. and without fail, every single time you ask him, mikko complies.
so you get crazier with it. whether it's a questions about my little pony—a show mikko has never even heard of—or having him lift you onto his shoulder while a sabrina carpenter song plays through the tiktok recording—he is participating without complaining.
every. single. time.
it has your good friends, but ever so annoying colleagues theorizing.
"maybe he's got a thing for girls with her hair colour? can't resist them." nick chimes, sipping some piping hot coffee from an avalanche branded mug.
you roll your eyes, pulling open the microwave to grab your shitty frozen meal.
lina's laugh echos through the staff room, "mhmm...or maybe her eye colour." she sends you a teasing look before slurping some saucy noddles up into her mouth.
before you can respond nick pipes up again, "he definitely wants in her pants."
you take a seat beside lina—across from your male coworker—and send them both a slightly amused, but deadpanned look. "are you guys done?"
despite your attitude towards them, you can't help but wonder if their theories are correct. sure, mikko seems sweet enough—towards you anyways—but with the way you're barley pushing him into participating in stupid little tiktok's, has you pondering. mikko is nice...but not that nice.
is he just trying to get into your pants? and then forgot about you? the thought has you feeling angry, because you're not just some girl who he can treat nicely until he gets what he wants—absolutely not. and you're not going to let him treat you like a fool, just because he wants his dick wet.
the following day you’re determined to get answers and put your mind at ease. you like mikko—he’s a great guy—but you don’t want to feel like you’re being used. there was a team meeting and breakfast today, without the pressure of practice or a game—essentially an off day for the guys.
as the chaos of the dining room begins clearing out, only a few lingering athletes and staff members at some of the tables, you make your way across the room with a determined step, looking for mikko.
you catch the broad expanse of his back and blonde hair sticking out from underneath his beanie just as he slips out the door. you grumble to yourself, speeding up in hopes to catch him before he leaves the facility.
pushing open the rather heavy door to the hallway, you’re immediately greeted by his familiar laugh and gabe landeskogs smooth voice—spewing some dad joke that only mikko would find funny.
before you can sike yourself out, you march up to the two european teammates. “rantanen, I need to talk to you.”
they pause in their slow steps, conversation halting abruptly as both men turn to look at you. the sight of your hard expression and pointed gaze has mikko swallowing roughly, eyeing you with confusion.
gabe snickers quietly, the sound missing your ears, and pats mikko’s shoulder sympathetically. “last name, huh? good luck.” with that the avalanche captain stalks off, disappearing down the quiet hallway.
you cross your arms defensively, looking up—way up—at him, tone rough and determined. “are you trying to fuck me or something?”
“whoa whoa, just hold on a second.” mikko’s eyes widen, looking around the hallways quickly to ensure you were alone. even though he doesn’t see any physical bodies, mikko can’t be too sure—especially when he can sense the conversation is going in a direction that doesn’t need to be overheard.
he gently takes ahold of your wrist, guiding you towards the open meeting room directly across from the kitchen. the censor lights flicker alive as you step into the empty, quiet room—illuminating the once dark space.
mikko lets go of your arm, shutting the door with a soft click before turning back to you. he analyzes your face, eyes flickering over your still pointed eyes and the angry pull to your mouth. confused, he steps towards you. “are you joking with me?”
you raise your brows. “do I look like i'm joking with you, mikko?”
he shakes his head gently, like he’s trying to come up with a reason for your sudden coldness—you’ve never acted this way around him, and seeing you so irritated is rather strange. “why are you asking me that?”
he’s referring to the first question you’d asked him—rather angrily may he add. mikko is unsure what brought on the rather sexual outburst of a question, only because it’s so unlike you. in fact, one time ross colton tried to make a sexual innuendo with you, and you just about turned the colour of a ripe apple.
mikko thinks he must’ve done something—or said something to make you not only think like that, but ask him about—without so much as a blush on your face. you were serious.
you cross your arms again, defensive walls still built high. clearing your throat, you look away from mikko and towards the navy blue patterned rug covering the floor. “ why are you so nice to me?”
you practically whisper, timidly running your foot along the worn out carpet.
mikko blinks. “what?” he’s even more confused now—because why wouldn’t he be nice to you. you’re sweet, and respectful, and funny, and beautiful, and you’re you.
you meet his eyes again, expect this time there’s more emotion swimming in them, and you’re slowly coming down of your flurry of anger—left with fear and your own confusion. “like..,” you start unsure, “you only do the media stuff when i'm the one asking you to. are you only being nice to me so that like, you'll get in my pants?”
you’re right, he thinks. he only does media when you ask, but it’s not because he suddenly wants to if you’re the one asking, it’s because he can’t say no to you. mikko never wants to see you sad—he never wants to see the current look on your face when he can help it.
mikko shakes his head, slow and steady. “no. that's not why i'm nice to you.”
“no?” you parrot, the tiniest hint of disbelief in your tone.
“no.” mikko repeats firmly. “i'm nice to you because I like you.”
“like as a friend?” you gulp, arms falling to your sides as you’re no longer strong enough to hold them around yourself.
mikko doesn’t see the point of hiding his true feelings any longer. the thought of you thinking he had ulterior motives with his kindness literally makes his stomach hurt, and he can’t have you believing he’s trying to use you for his own benefit.
so with a gentle sigh, he takes another step closer to you, eyes softening as he takes in your hesitant gaze and red cheeks. “more than a friend.” mikko admits gently.
your face falls, “oh.” you’re in some sort of shock, looking up at the winger with parted lips and wide eyes. the way mikko is looking at you, so raw and real, has any lingering hesitance falling away, and your expression quickly shifts.
“yeah, oh.” the corner of mikko’s plump lip slides upwards, the beginning stages of a lopsided smirk growing on his flushing face.
he reaches towards you, slowly, hands enveloping the sides of your head as he holds you in his palms. mikko’s hands are so warm and big, completely covering your cheeks and ears—the feeling itself has you turned on.
your breath hitches as mikko’s rough thumbs begin running over your cheekbones, stroking your warm skin absentmindedly.
his tongue licks along his bottom lip, moistening the skin slowly. mikko swallows gently, not once taking his gaze off your flustered face. “but like, just so there’s no confusion, I would eat you out on the table until you’re crying if that’s what you wanted.”
you inhale sharply, stomach dropping with excitement and adrenaline. your body flutters at his words, “mikko.” you whine in a whisper, hands reaching out and resting against his hard pecks. you have no control of your hands, the need to feel him under your palms too strong. you begin running over his covered chest, his muscles tightening and nipples hardening under your deliberate touches.
mikko huffs shakily before he comes down, kissing you with as much passion he can manage. his lips are surprisingly soft and smooth, enclosing and teasing yours in a messy, hard way. the feeling has your stomach swooping further, toes curling in your shoes as the kiss grows harder—needier.
suddenly, mikko’s hands run down your body, passing over your ass with a firm squeeze. you moan into his mouth as his hands find the backs of your thighs, picking you up.
you gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, sitting you on the table like it’s nothing—mikko smirks at the sound you make, and he can’t help the way his dick twitches in his pants. his wet lips trail off your mouth, travelling over your jaw and down your neck where he continues giving you hot, and hurried kisses.
reluctantly, your eyes flutter open, running a hand under mikko’s beanie, gripping the base of his hair between your trembling fingers. “we can get in a lot of trouble for this.” you breathe.
despite your words, your hips rolls against his hardening length, your cores at the perfect angle with you sitting on the table to grinding together deliciously.
mikko pulls back, eyes glazed with lust as he grins. “I know. so we'll just have to be sneaky.” his words are husky, sending your blood pumping and head swirling with need.
he leans back in, giving you another eye rolling kiss. you push his hat off his head completely, giving yourself free reign of his messy curls, tugging the blonde strands as your heart desires.
mikko pulls you closer on the tabletop, further bumping your clothed heat against his. his large hands slide underneath the back of your top, running over your spine and fiddling with the edge of your lacy bralette.
you sigh trembly, disconnecting the kiss. “i'll have to stop asking you questions though. because now I really won't be able to control myself around you.”
the admission has mikko smirking, biting his lip seductively. one of his hands round to your front, groping your tit over your bra. “I turn you on baby?” he already knew the answer to his question—your hardened nipples and shifting hips giving him all the information he needs.
you laugh through a breathless exhale, and you gently hit his shoulder. “be serious. you'll have to tolerate lina, and start saying yes when she asks you to do things.”
“no promises.” he chimes playfully, hands running back down your torso—leaving goosebumps in their wake.
you give him a soft, serene smile, which as mikko following suit—looking at you the way he always has. “I really like you, mikko.” you admit gently, one of your hands running over his building bicep before sliding around to rest on his shoulder blade.
for a moment, his smile remains admirable, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that has ever mattered. mikko has been dreaming of the day you say those words, and actually hearing you speak them is just otherworldly.
but because he’s a boy, and you’re his dream girl with his spit coating your plump lips—he can’t help himself. mikko’s hand rounds to your front, dipping underneath the waistband of your leggings and sliding over your underwear. he thumbs your clit over the thin material, and your mouth goes slack at his touch.
he breathes, smirking at the feeling of your arousal soaking through your panties. “yeah I can tell.”
“shut up.” you huff, pulling him back in to continue your desperate kiss.
#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic#mikko rantanen fic#mikko rantanen fanfic#mikko rantanen x reader#mikko rantanen imagine#mikko rantanen smut#nhl blurb#nhl fanfic#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl x reader#hockey x reader#hockey imagine#hockey fic#colorado avalanche imagine#carolina hurricanes imagine
576 notes
·
View notes
Text
| Material Interest | Pairing: Harry Castillo x F!Reader | 7.5K words | {1/?} ✨INITIATION✨
Summary: You take an internship at Legacy Capital, where everyone thinks you’re a nepo baby. Harry Castillo. Your mother’s boss. The CEO, shouldn’t be paying you any attention. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. You weren’t supposed to like it. “When he sets his mind on something…on someone. He won’t quit until it’s his.”
this fic is going to go absolutely crazy. I'm so damn excited about it! |WARNINGS| slowburn/angst/eventual smut/obsession/power dynamics/age gap/alcohol/grief/corporate rot/pov swaps/inner voice spirals (duh)/sd/sb themes/
The worst part about being an intern isn’t all the men who look at you like you don’t exist. It’s the ones who look at you like you’re the only person who does. You worked your ass off in business school to get here. Graduated with a 3.96 in your finance program at Berkeley, for God’s sake.
You earned this. But that doesn’t matter. Does it?
Because your mother is the CEO’s assistant. And your father was one of the firm’s original founders. A name they quietly erased from the history books.
Your entire résumé might as well be blank.
Doesn’t matter how many nights you didn’t sleep. How many times you studied until your eyes burned. Doesn’t matter that you applied under your mother’s maiden name. Anyone who’s been here long enough remembers exactly who you are. You thought about just saying no. Thought about applying to a different firm. Hell. Maybe even leaving Manhattan altogether.
But walking away from an opportunity at one of the most prestigious private equity firms in the state? That would’ve been suicidal. Career-wise, anyway.
They call it a fortress for a reason.
And Harry Castillo? He inherited the throne.
// The birds weren’t even singing by the time you woke up. Thirty minutes before your alarm was supposed to go off.
First day nerves, you guess.
There’s been a pit in your stomach ever since the offer letter came in. Since your mom looked at you with that face and asked if you were really sure. As if anyone could turn down Legacy. You didn’t even have a choice. You rub the sleep from your eyes as the shower heats up, grabbing your toothbrush on the way into the stall. You let the water bead down your back and breathe deeply for a while; the warmth soothes your muscles, but it doesn’t do much to erase the tension in your brain. When you get out, your fingers are pruned, and you shiver at the sharp contrast of cool air hitting your wet skin. At least it offers a little relief. Fresh and clean, you drag yourself to the closet and sift through your limited options. Half of the tags are still attached. Three-quarters of them were paid for with money you don’t have. A credit card that you couldn’t even dream of paying off right now.
You look at your reflection in the mirror and tell yourself you need to make sure you look the part.
Not that anyone in that glass palace would even care. They’ll take one glance and clock the difference immediately. You’re not like them. Not one bit. Even if your father's name used to be on the side of the building.
He died before Legacy was even that. Before the name, before the fortune. Before the reputation. Your father, with the help of Henry and Harry Castillo, founded Castle and Co. a year before you were born. It didn’t start off with glass walls and coffee makers more expensive than your first car. No. It started as an idea between friends at a kitchen table. Eventually, that table would turn into a boardroom in an office smaller than this apartment. But they were eager, and they were smart; and between the three of them, they had just the right connections. The firm grew faster than any of them could have imagined.
Your mother was hired at the beginning of year two. She was twenty-seven, without the slightest clue how to work admin, no knowledge of the finance world. She had been a hairdresser up until that point. Working at a Cost Cutters, just so they could make ends meet. But it wasn’t long before profits began to roll in, allowing your father to take enough of a draw every month to keep the bills paid without her needing to continue busting her ass for minimum wage plus tips. She worked reception, doing all the admin, acted as a personal assistant to the whole team, and then some. She worked endlessly through her pregnancy to prove to the men there that she deserved a place.
And now here you are. Twenty-four years later. About to do the same thing.
Like mother, like daughter, you suppose. You take the first dress off its hanger, laying it out on the bed. Then the second. Then the third. And by the time the sun is bleeding through the blinds, your bed looks like a Macy’s clearance rack. Maybe something dark…Edgy, you don’t want to be too soft.Eventually, you settle on a grey sheath dress, throwing a matching blazer over top before strapping on your only appropriate pair of heels. They might be cheap by their standards, but hopefully nobody notices. They will. You do your makeup by muscle memory, a small black wing, still sharp enough to cut. The rest of your face practically bare, nothing too much, nothing too little.
Clean. Corporate. Pretty.The hallway is still dark when you head for the kitchen, your mom won’t even be awake for another half hour. ‘Interns are always expected to be early.’ Her words play over in your head as you press down the toaster lever. You’re out of margarine. Fuck my life. You grab your keys and bag, shrug on a coat that you pray looks expensive enough to pass, and head for the door, scarfing the toast down dry. The elevator groans when it starts moving. You stare at the number ticking by, your heart knocking against your ribs. The streets are surprisingly empty for a Monday in New York. It’s too early for traffic, apparently. It’s not too early for nerves, however. The whole drive is spent replaying your mom’s words. ‘Are you sure?’You weren’t. You still aren’t. Your fingernails are nearly folding over themselves from digging into the steering wheel as you pull into the parking garage beneath the building. Legacy Capital looms above. Glass and cold steel, harsh angles and hard attitudes. The fortress. Before you get out of the car, you flip your visor down and check your makeup in the mirror.
‘You have to look the part.’
A quick touch-up on the edges of your lip-liner, a bit of gloss. You re-curl your lashes and—fuck. The mascara wand slips out of your grip, smudging black across your thumb and onto the cuff of your blazer. Don’t panic!
You dab at it with a fast food napkin, with saliva, with anything you can find. It fades, mostly. You tell yourself it’s fine. The air in the lobby smells like freshly brewed coffee and money. People here move fast. They look fast, dress fast, all sleek lines and glinting watches. The heels you picked out click against the concrete in a rhythm that feels too loud for 7 AM. You hate how that makes you feel so small. A receptionist gives you a well-practiced smile while she hands you a security badge.
You politely introduce yourself to the woman, Sherry, whom you learned has been here for 7 years. She gives wine aunt vibes. “I think you’re set to meet up with Fawn upstairs on the thirteenth floor. Have you met her? “No, I haven’t met anyone here,” you say nervously, “could you tell me what she looks like?”
She looks back at you and smiles again, and it reaches her eyes this time. “Short, blonde, you’ll know when you see her.” She gives you a wink. “Elevators are just to your left, good luck, darlin’” You thank her, with a voice tighter than you’d like. The badge feels like it weighs ten pounds on your chest. This elevator does not smell like sweat. It smells like citrus and cologne. It’s perfectly polished steel, you can see yourself in the door. Upstairs, the office is colder. Quieter. Floor-to-ceiling windows cast sterile, white sunlight through the clouds. Glass-walled conference rooms stand like cages, or maybe fishbowls. There is a tension on the floor that you can feel in your bones, dull in your molars. You’re looking for Fawn when you feel it. Before you even see him. Harry Castillo. He moves like a man used to being watched. Not loud. Not showy. Just…impossible to ignore. God. He even walks rich. His eyes meet yours. Your heart jumps to your throat. One look and he’s already made you nervous, scared. Intrigued. You’ve met Mr. Castillo a handful of times, maybe four or five. But it’s been many, many years. You were still a freshman in college the last time you saw him. When you were young, he’d come by when he was in California for work, he would come to your home and have dinner, drink wine, and talk with your mom about your father. He would ask you about classes, simple, easy. Conversation that you never thought twice about. He sent Christmas cards and gifts until you were a teenager. He and your dad had been close before his death, best friends even. Or so that’s what you were told. You’ve always figured that part of him felt guilty about your mom leaving the firm, about selling her shares, and taking you west. She had no idea that she was giving up millions of dollars by selling so soon. Nobody could have ever predicted just how much of a legacy Castle & Co. would become. Maybe that’s why he kept in touch. You don’t remember him being this handsome. Everyone else in the office looks like they’re drowning in starch and being strangled by their ties.
Not him.
Dark brown suit, relaxed fit but tailored perfectly to his body. He has a lighter knit shirt under the jacket that’s cut barely low enough to show the edges of his collar. No tie in sight. The color palette complements his complexion so well that it should be illegal. His hair is brushed back slightly, curls falling perfectly messy… like he’s been brushing his fingers through it just right. He’s the kind of put-together that makes the rest of the floor look like they’re trying too hard. “Distracted?” You twitch, startled when a low voice drags you out of the daydream. And when you look to your left, he’s close, so close. You feel your face heat up. “No, of course not, Mr. Castillo.” You immediately straighten your posture, “Good morning.” “Good morning. First day?” he asks, holding eye contact. “It shows.” “Yes, sorry. I’m just looking for Fawn.” You take the opportunity to break eye contact, scanning the office. You can still feel his eyes on you. It’s making your palms sweat, your pulse is kicking in your throat.
You try to slow your breathing. It doesn’t help. Now all you can smell is him. Cedar, grapefruit. Heat. “Ah. I think she’s just finishing up with a phone call,” he says, “Her office is down the hall on your right.” His gaze flicks down, slowly. Appraising. Your skin prickles under it. He doesn’t have to do anything more than look. Then his eyes stop on your blazer. Before you have a chance to react, his hand lifts. He wraps his fingers lightly around your forearm and draws it closer to him. Your breath gets caught in your chest. You go completely still. His voice is quieter now, less amused. “What's this?” he asks, dragging his thumb over the barely there stain. The mascara, the stain you thought nobody would notice. Your stomach drops. Of course he noticed, of course. Of course, you already look like a mess. Your first day and you’re already wearing your fuck-up on your sleeve. Literally. “Oh. It’s just…mascara.” Your voice just barely makes it out. “I—I must have missed it.” You so desperately want to pull your arm back. You cannot. Not until he lets you. He looks back at your face, his brow ever so slightly furrowing. “Be careful,” he says, thumb making one last slow pass before he drops your arm back down to your side. “Nobody will miss a detail in this place.”
Your skin burns where he touched it. He holds your gaze for just a second longer. Then straightens. “Good luck today, it’s nice to see you here.” You nod, “Nice to see you as well, Mr. Castillo.” And with that, he’s gone.
Glides his way across the room toward the elevator. You exhale. It’s too fast, too shaky. Your heart refuses to slow down. Why does he smell good? Why does he feel like that? Why are you shaking like an idiot? Girl. Get it together. You square your shoulders and smooth your sleeve like that could undo what just happened. You do another sweep of the room, spinning now, just looking for anyone blonde at this point. You don’t see her, but you do catch one more glimpse of him. Just as the elevator door starts to close. Adjusting his lapel, still staring at you, an unreadable expression etched into his face. You need to find Fawn. Now.
// He couldn’t be in the same room anymore. He’d seen enough. Too much. She wasn’t supposed to look like that. Wasn’t supposed to look at him like that. She was frozen, still in his mind as eighteen. Spitting image of her parents. Michael’s daughter. The quiet kid from dinners with Janey in California. Not this. Not a woman who would stop him cold in the middle of the damn floor. First day. Of course it was. Of course, she was nervous. He should have walked past her. Should have let Fawn handle the introductions. Shake her hand at some formal moment, say something forgettable, keep the distance where it belonged. Instead, he waited for her to come in. Instead, his feet carried him closer before his mind caught up. Instead, he’d touched her, looked too long. Felt the kick of her pulse. A metronome under his hand. His fingers flexed against his side. Careful. That one had been for him. Not her. Harry reached the door to his office. Rested a hand against the handle for a moment, collecting himself. Then stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. And exhaled the breath he’d been holding since he smelled her shampoo. // The glass walls are half-frosted, half clear. The light filters through in bands. The Legacy insignia is etched clear, towers and all; clean through the center in a perfect strip of glass you can’t help but glance through. It’s hard to make out, but through those letters, you see her. Fawn is standing with her arms braced on her desk, palms flat. She’s leaning over her phone with her head tilted slightly, mouth moving fast as she speaks. She looks sharp. Focused. Someone used to running at this pace. You shift your weight around, waiting for her to finish. Being sure not to fidget too much. Trying to ignore the way that your pulse is somehow still climbing. Focus. You need to stop thinking about how he looked at you. Fawn sees you peering into the office, and you watch as she hangs up the phone and waves you inside.
Closer up, she’s a bit softer, but in an almost… artificial way. She must be in her late thirties; it’s hard to tell. Her face is half expressionless from the filler and Botox in it. Her cheeks and lips are full and youthful, teeth sitting in her mouth like they were manicured just for her. “Hello! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says, rounding the desk to walk toward you. “I’m Fawn, Janey said you’d be starting. You look so much like her!” She reaches a hand out toward you, and you take it, giving it a firm shake, trying to fight back the cringe from the mention of your mother. “Thank you.” You fight the cringe that hits your spine. “I’m excited to learn.” “That’s what we like to hear.” She picks up a stack of paperwork from the desk and shuffles it into a black Legacy-branded folder, and holds it out to you. “Your onboarding packet. Intro materials, HR paperwork. Your Slack info. Most of it’s digital now, but they still like burning ink, just for us to have something to hand over.” You take it, gripping the edges. Something solid to hold onto. You’ll take it. “Have you been shown around yet? Met anyone?” “Just reception,” you say, lifting up the badge Sherry gave you earlier. “Oh, and Mr. Castillo.” Fawn grins, but it's brief. When you mention him, her eyes narrow a bit. Furrowing. Confused. “Harry—Mr. Castillo’s rarely down here this early, someone here must have…” She trails off, mouth tightening for just a moment. You can see her weighing her words. Then she shakes her head, clears her throat. “Well. Doesn’t matter.” But it does. You can feel it in the way she straightens out her shoulders, the way her voice goes a shade cooler. “Come on then. I’ll show you around,” she says, ushering you out the door. You trail behind her as she walks through the hallway, briefing you.
“You’ll spend most of your time here in Portfolio Ops,” she says, swiping a key card to get through to a separate corridor, “You’ll shadow me, pick up some project work, sit in on some internal sessions whenever possible.” It’s going to take some time to get used to this place, to really learn the lay of the land. It feels like being in a snow globe. You’re trying to focus on what she’s saying, trying to make a mental map of the place, but you’re already fighting overwhelm. She hits the down arrow on a different set of elevators than you came in on. She presses the lobby button once you’re inside. “A few other interns were hired alongside you. You’ll be spending a lot of time with them, so play nice. I know it’s competitive out here—” The door opens. A man in a suit that probably costs more than your rent steps inside, coffee in hand, looking annoyed. Fawn slides you down to the corner of the elevator and leans closer to you, dropping her voice a bit. “Just don’t feed into it, we keep notes. It’s always going to be in your best interest to rise above.” The door opens up to the main floor, you’re on the opposite side from when you got here this morning. Sherry lifts her head and gives you a slight smile as you pass her. You return it and keep moving. You struggle to keep up. Her heels click like an angry keyboard through the lobby. She’s so tiny, how do her legs move so fast in those shoes? “We run fast here. I don’t expect perfection.” Fawn stops suddenly, you almost walk into her while she turns to look at you, “I expect effort.” You nod. Tight. She continues on. “People will watch you…you especially.” She raises a brow, knowingly. You can feel your expression tighten. Yes, Fawn. I know that people think I’m a fuckin’ nepo baby. Story of my life. “Ignore it. Just work clean. Keep your head down.”
“And this is the cafe,” Fawn says, nodding her head toward the far side of the floor past reception. “Don’t expect privacy. Everyone passes through here eventually.” She’s calling it a cafe, but it feels a lot more like a stage. More glass walls, black marble, and steel. Nowhere to hide, the kind of place people go to caffeinate, heat up something fast, and get the hell out. Unless you’re into being watched by everyone who walks through… It’s tucked near the east windows, the espresso machine looks like it belongs in a Bond villain’s kitchen. There are a few low black tables and too few seats. It was designed to be functional, not comfortable. There's a long polished bar along the wall with high stools and a very intimidating-looking microwave. “This is where our interns usually eat,” she says, pointing to the higher corner table. You nod again, still trying to absorb it all. Before you can say anything, a woman approaches from the far side of the floor—dark hair pinned back slick, a crisp white blazer that contrasts beautifully against her skin. She has a tablet balanced in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. Fawn looks toward her, waves her down. “Perfect timing. This is Patel—she’s been with us a few weeks. She can help get you settled in, yeah?” She looks at her and nods her head as if she’s already accepting the offer for her. Navleen looks at you for a moment, then a smile tugs at her lips, maybe a bit forced. “Nice to meet you,” she says, reaching out. “I’m Navleen, you can call me Nav, or Patel, whichever.” You shake her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s a lot at first. You’ll catch up.” “Thanks.” Fawn checks her watch.
“I’m going to leave you two to it. I’ll see you back upstairs, first meeting is at ten.” She goes to turn toward the elevators but stops and looks back at Navleen, “Patel, there's a free desk next to yours. Go get her settled in.” And just like that, she hands you off. “So, how’s your first morning going? Need coffee?” Navleen asks. “Actually, yes. I haven’t met my caffeine quota yet.” She grins. “Good. You’ll need it if you’re planning on surviving the rest of the day.” You glance around while you wait for your coffee. No one here looks relaxed. Even the way people sip their coffees feels performative.
She leans in. “There’s a Nespresso on Port Ops, the coffee from it tastes like burnt plastic. Most of us just get it down here, it’s no fun pulling a ten-hour day running on bad coffee.” “Good to know,” you say, smiling back at her.
You order, and Navleen leans back against the marble bar while they make your drinks. “So. You already met Harry?”
Your stomach twists. “Mr. Castillo?”
She raises a brow. “Saw you two talking earlier.”
You steady your voice. “He just said good morning, introduced himself. That’s all.”
“Mmhmm.” Navleen sips her drink, eyes flicking to you. “Takes a few days before you stop feeling like you might faint in front of him.”
You look down at your cup, “I didn’t expect to run into him.”
She shrugs. “No one ever is.”
Another sip. “But hey—it looked like you handled it. Not everyone does.” You grip your cup and give her a smile you don’t quite feel. She hums, tilting her head.
“Just sayin’. People watch. You’ll figure that out.” A second passes, and her smile turns into a smirk. “Not always for the reasons you think.” The nerves you’d managed to calm set back in as you sit and drink your coffee.
She glances at her watch. “We should head back up. You’re in the bullpen for now—across from me and Isaac. You’ll meet him. He’s nice. A little too nice sometimes. Never shuts up about his partner. You’ll see.”
You laugh softly. “ he sounds harmless.”
“Harmless is usually where the real stories start.”
She pushes off the bar, coffee in hand, and heads down the hallway, looking back at you to encourage you to walk with her.
“Biggest tip? Keep your head down this week. Make friends,” she pauses for a moment as you step into the elevator, “Don’t outshine anyone.”
The door opens, and she nods for you to follow her. “Walk faster. We don’t linger in the halls. It’s a thing.” You speed up. “This section’s mostly juniors and interns,” she says, quieter now. “You’ll sit across from me, which is tragic for you, but good for me.” You pass through the offices, and a lot more people are here now. Most of the doors are closed, a few open just enough to offer a glimpse of someone hunched over a desk, whispering into a headset. The layout of this area is too open to feel safe, too quiet to feel casual. It feels like the kind of place that everyone could hear it if you fucked up.
Navleen gestures at a clean workstation, the desk is minimalist, and dual monitors are already set up.
“Here you go. Welcome to the fishbowl,” she says. “We pretend we’re not watching each other, but we are. It’s part of the fun.” Okay so it’s not just me who feels like a fucking beta fish. You give her a polite smile, pulling out the plush, leather office chair and putting your purse below your feet. Okay, this is fine. I’ve got this, I didn’t dissociate the entire morning at all. You drop into the chair at your new desk, coffee within reach, fingers twitching against the edge of the folder that Fawn handed you earlier. You take a few deep breaths and open it.
The first page is a welcome letter printed on heavy cardstock. The Legacy Capital logo is embossed into it with gold foil; the cardstock probably costs more than your printer back at home. The wording is formal and robotic: “We expect excellence, discretion, and professionalism from all of our team members, regardless of tenure.” It’s just a letter, but it feels like a warning. You turn the page. Org Chart. You freeze for a second. His name is printed right there at the top of the pyramid, also in gold foil. Harry Castillo. Your mother’s name is there too, tucked near the bottom under Executive Assistant to the CEO. You scan through the names, nobody notable, not you or Navleen, just a block labeled Intern Pool.
Figures. Next is a sheet of systems and logins—Slack, internal drives, and different formatting guidelines. Specific brand fonts for decks, company colors, black, gold, and white. There’s a section of file naming protocols that’s two damn paragraphs long. Communication Guidelines: ‘Transparency is key. Digital communication is monitored.’ You hum to yourself. Most of this certainly reads like a threat.
The HR packet is next, there’s benefit info that doesn’t apply to you yet, a copy of the NDA you already signed before starting, and an Ethics Compliance Form. You close your eyes tight for a second, then push past it. A small black and gold enamel pin slides free from one of the inner pouches. Legacy’s tower insignia stamped into it like a seal. A talisman. Did I just join a cult? You set it aside.
Lastly, on the bottom of the stack, there’s a Legacy-branded notebook—satin black cover, thick paper. On the inside of the cover page, written in gold: ‘Build your Legacy. Leave your mark.’ A bit ominous…but very on brand for this place. When you flip to the back of the notebook, you see your mother’s handwriting. ‘Proud of you. Keep your head down. — Mom x’ You stare down at the notebook for another few seconds. Build your Legacy. Leave your mark. The floor still feels like it's buzzing beneath your feet. Your head is still swimming. When you glance up, Navleen is already in deep conversation across the room, headset half on, fingers flying over her keyboard. You should be doing something. You pull your laptop toward you, tap it awake, and start clicking through Slack. Channels. Messages. Too many messages already. You try to focus. Try to look busy. A message pops up on the screen. Fawn: Ready? Meet me at Conference 2. Ten sharp. Instantly, your heart kicks up. You straighten your blazer, shove the onboarding folder into your purse, and pick up the notebook. And stand. First meeting. Deep breath. Don’t fuck this up. Conference rooms are on the floor above Port Ops. The floor layout is basically the same, a little more spread out, fewer people crammed in there, bigger rooms. You walk down the hall, all half-frosted glass walls like everywhere else. Your mother is already inside the office. Through the tower emblem, you can see her, seated perfectly upright, laptop already out on the table in front of her. Next to her—Harry. He’s standing, his jacket off now, the shirt he’s in is short-sleeved, he looks almost scandalous compared to the folks in crisp suits and dress shirts around him. He’s talking to someone on the opposite side of the table. Your stomach knots. Of course. First real meeting, and my mother and him are both here. Please kill me. Just as you start to force your feet forward, Fawn appears beside you. “Hey!” she says from behind, “you ready?” “As I’ll ever be.” You push down the nausea and clear your expression. Both heads turn toward you the moment Fawn pushes the door open. Your mother gives you a soft look, her lips ever so slightly curving up. Harry’s gaze slides over to you, slow. Then he steps back, casual, hands in his pockets. “Here she is,” Fawn says. “Our new addition.” You force a polite nod to the room. “Good morning.” “Morning,” your mom says quickly, like she’s trying to fill the space before anyone else can. She gestures lightly. “Have a seat, sweetheart.” The word hits your ears like nails on a chalkboard. Fawn motions for you to sit, conveniently across from Harry. Why am I sweating? He doesn’t say a word. He just watches for half a second too long before sliding into the chair beside your mother. The meeting begins. It’s part orientation rundown for the other interns and yourself, half schedule discussion.
You do your best to pay attention, writing down meaningless notes in your notebook, but your pulse keeps doing something weird every time Harry shifts in his seat. Every time your mother mentions “Legacy culture” or “building relationships within the firm,” your skin crawls. You can feel Harry’s eyes flick toward you again and again. You don’t dare meet it. When he finally speaks, i’ts low, calm, and smooth. You nearly drop your fucking pen. “Intern schedules can stay in Ops. Let's keep it clean.” Fawn just nods along. Your mother types something on her computer, brow furrowed in concentration. You stare at the words, leave your mark inside your notebook cover, and fight the urge to laugh. Or cry. The meeting starts to wind down, and people begin to gather their things. Harry stands up first, shrugging his jacket back on, movements smooth as ever. When he passes your chair, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t say a word.
But as he rounds the glass door, you glance over. He’s already looking back. The door clicks shut behind him, and your shoulders sag before you can catch it. Around the table, chairs scrape, and voices pick back up. The meeting is officially over. Fawn gives you a quick smile as you reach for your notebook. “Good first round,” she says under her breath. “You’ll get used to these quick.” “Thanks.” Across the room, your mom is still gathering her things up, just taking her time. Of course. She crosses to you just as the others file out. “You okay?” she asks quietly, her voice is bright, too practiced, too corporate. Then it drops lower, “You looked a little nervous.” “I’m fine. First day jitters.” You say, forcing a smile. Her gaze lingers a moment, searching your face. “Just keep your head down,” she says softly. A repeat of the note she left. “Don’t let them see you sweat.” You nod at her. She exhales. Then, says, “Come on then. I’ll walk you back up.”
You fall into step beside her, both of you moving through the halls like it’s normal. Like you’re not being watched already. Like people aren’t already thinking it. The rest of the day passes by in a blur. Emails, Slack messages, and system tutorials you could barely absorb. Patel tried to pull you into a few casual chats after introducing you to Isaac, who seemed nice. But she was right, he might actually be too nice. Fawn threw projects at you faster than you could even begin to process them. You smiled. You nodded. You didn’t breathe. Your stomach starts to growl loudly. You look over to the clock at the corner of your screen and— Shit, how is it 5 PM already? No wonder you’re hungry, you survived the day on dry toast, two cups of coffee, and a handful of hopes and dreams.
//
By the time you finish up your onboarding checklist and reread through the code of conduct four more times, it’s 7 PM. The office has thinned out considerably. Only a handful of people remain on the floor as you throw your blazer over your arm and walk out the door. The parking garage is spookier in the evening light. Emptier too. Before you’ve even buckled in, your cellphone starts to ring. You put the key in the ignition and turn. Pulling your phone out of your purse and smiling when you see the photo lighting up the screen. Emeryl. You slide to answer and slap the phone into the dash mount just as their face fills up the screen—grainy, 480P calculator quality, garage reception already choking the call. “Hey! I’m so glad you’re done at wor—oh my god, you look exhausted.” “Thanks, jerk. I am.” You throw the car into reverse, one hand braced on the wheel. “I survived the day. Just barely, but I survived!” They grin at you through the lens. “You better spill. Full report. I need this.”
When you start to speak, you get distracted before the first sentence is out. Out of the corner of your eye, headlights flash, and you hear the doors beep unlocked. Adrenaline shoots through you. A very shiny, very expensive-looking, very black Bentley. In a reserved spot. You mutter under your breath without thinking, “You have to be kidding.” The door swings open. And Mr. Castillo is right there, sliding into the driver’s seat. Still terrifying. Still too good-looking for your blood pressure. “...Hello?” Emeryl’s voice cuts in. “Why aren’t you talking? What’s happening?” “He’s here,” you whisper. “WHO?” You don’t answer right away. “Who is there? Jason fucking Vorhees?” they yell through the receiver, “You look like you’re about to be murdered.”
“My boss. The CEO. He’s…here. In the garage. Getting into his car.” Silence, then— “WHAT IS HAPPENING?” Their voice pitches up. “TURN ME AROUND. I WANT TO SEE.” . “I’m not turning you around, Jesus Christ,” you say, stifling a nervous laugh with your hand. “You’re so rude! I demand visuals. This is crucial information.” Your eyes dart back toward the Bentley just as it pulls into motion. “He’s leaving. It’s fine.” Emeryl groans. “Fine? You sound like you’re going to pass out. What the hell happened in there?” You grip the wheel tighter. “He just walked out when I was leaving. That’s all.” “You’re so full of shit. Start from the top. Did he look at you? Did he say something? Why are you being cryptic?” An exaggerated sigh heaves its way from your chest as you rub at your temple. “It’s nothing…I think. I don’t know.” “Girl.” “Okay fine. This morning, when I got in, he was like…staring at me.” “Okay, I’m intrigued, go on.” “I dropped my mascara wand on my blazer this morning and it stained it.” As you pull onto the street, the call audio crackles, clearing. You glance down, and Emeryl is now in at least 1080P. “This seems super irrelevant right now.” “Sorry. When we met, he got weirdly close to me and grabbed my wrist to look at the stain.” “In like…a hot way, or a murder way?” “Both?” You make a face, “anyway, he also told me to ‘be careful’ and it kinda made me feel some sorta way.” “Is he hot?” “He’s…old.” “That doesn’t mean anything. How old is old?” “Well, considering he was friends with my dad before I was born. I’m gonna have to say, he’s at least fifty-ish.” Emeryl repeats themself, “Okay, but is he hot? You sound like you’re still shaking?” “He’s definitely better looking than I remembered. He’s kinda giving—” you pause. “Wait, did you ever watch NARCOS?” “I don’t think so?” “Oh, okay. Never mind,” The line is silent for a solid thirty seconds. “So he’s hot?” “Oh my god, yes. Yes, Emeryl, he’s hot.” “Sorry, I’m just trying to live vicariously through you. I need office romance drama in my life somehow.” “You’re dumb.” “NO. You’re dumb. What did he smell like?” You’re blushing now. “Rich. Next topic.” “Of course he does,” Emeryl mutters.
“Everyone there looks perfect, too. It’s nauseating. My desk is literally in a glass box, people can see everything, including my $150 Nordstrom Rack blazers.” Emeryl snorts, “Sexy corporate surveillance kink, love that for you.” You say nothing, just shake your head. “Baby, you dress perfectly fine. Don’t worry about that part,” they say. “No, you don’t get it. I already want to burn half my wardrobe. Everyone there looks like they’re on the cover of Forbes.” // Harry all but peeled out of the parking garage. Took the corner too fast, fingers curled tight around the wheel, knuckles white. He hadn’t meant to watch her leave. Tried to look away, failed. She’s in his head. The whole damn drive home he’d barely seen the road. All he could think about was her face, tilted toward him in the office. Her profile in the meeting. The curve of her jaw. Her lips. That little sound she made when he took her wrist in his hand. Idiot. Fucking idiot. Don’t do this. Don’t do this again. He shouldn’t have let Janey convince him to give her the internship. Should have said it was a conflict of interest. Because this is a fucking conflict of interest. He gripped the wheel tighter. Had half a mind to pour a drink when he got home. Maybe two. But even he knew that wouldn’t wash her out. Because that feeling had already crept in, and he knew. It’s going to take more than the top shelf to stop it. When he sets his mind on something…on someone. He won’t quit until it’s his. Regardless of how terrible an idea he knows it is.
//
At this point, you’ve been in the car for 45 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Getting back has been a total nightmare compared to this morning's ten-minute commute. Emeryl’s been grilling you the entire time about your day. Asking for every single detail. “So. I have a proposition.” “Oh god. Do I even want to hear it?” you groan. There's a small pause, then they say it so casually, like it's the most normal thing in the world. “Have you ever considered just…making one of these rich assholes pay your bills?” You blink. “Pardon.” “I’m serious.” Their voice perks up. “Join one of those sugar baby websites. I had a friend from Twitter in Oakland who did it. They made enough bank to pay off their student loans in like…three months.” You laugh, half-horified. “Em. No.” “Why not? Look at where you’re working. They’re all walking mother wounds with expense accounts. I think you’d be perfect.” “Absolutely not.” “Just look. At least I’m not like…telling you to sell toe pics again. Just make a profile. Window shop. Empower yourself!” “You’re out of your damn mind.” “You love me.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Maybe.” “That’s not a no. I’m texting you the site.” “You are not.” “Too late.” The phone buzzes with a new text notification from them. Of course, they sent that. You shift the mount a little, watching the traffic crawl. “Why are you like this?” “Please. You knew what you were getting into when you left me here for the wolves.” “God, I didn’t leave you for the wolves.” You protest. “You left me for New York. Same thing.” They lean in closer to the screen, grinning.
“You’re the only bitch I know who could ace a finance degree and still get tangled up with half the wolves on Wall Street. I’m just trying to make sure you survive it.” Your throat tightens, just a little. You missed them more than you let yourself think. In your first year at Berkeley, you met Emeryl. You were both at the same awful Halloween party. Neither of you knew the host. They found you smoking a cigarette on the balcony and said, “You look like you hate everyone here. Me too.” And that was that. Been each other’s lifeline ever since. This isn’t even the first time Emeryl has suggested you sign up for a website like this. They told you to make an account on Feetstagram a month ago and said, “You have nice arches,” like it meant anything. You considered it. Briefly… But unfortunately for them—and for the internet, you don’t do feet, don’t do feet stuff. Not that you’re gonna yuck anyone's yum. But for you? Nope. Not your thing. You finally make it home and park. Still both caught in conversation, yapping away as you walk into the apartment. One hand is still on the phone as you kick the door shut behind you. “I swear to God, LA traffic is miles better than this place, there are too many fucking bridges.” you groan. “Maybe you should carpool with your mom,” Emeryl suggests, holding back a snicker. “Maybe you should shut the fuck up.” They cackle. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you go. But—” their voice drops, teasing, “don’t forget what we talked about.” You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels. “I’m literally not doing that.” “You promised you’d look.” “I didn’t promise anything, I just said maybe.” They wink at you, grinning. “Let me know what username you choose!” You sigh—half laugh, half exhaustion. “I’ll call you tomorrow, love you.” They blow you a kiss and end the call. When you make it up to your room, you strip off your clothes and drop them straight into your hamper. You pull on an oversized tee and some PJs. You grab a glass of water from the kitchen and flop down on the couch with your laptop. Then you open a blank incognito tab, already shaking your head at yourself. You grab your phone and look at your text thread with Emeryl. Gilded. That’s the website name. It sounds…expensive.
You sigh, murmuring to yourself as you begin to type. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The URL auto-fills, and you exit the page before hitting enter. I am not doing this. Instead, you open Slack. Check your messages. Stare at your onboarding checklist again. Close it. You tap your fingers on the side of your laptop. Emeryl’s voice itches in your brain. ‘You promised you’d look’ You stare at the screen for a hot minute, debating, holding your face with one hand. “Fine.” You type it back in and actually hit enter this time. When the site loads, it's black and sleek and a little too inviting. You hesitate. I’m just looking. Just for fun. Not serious. When you finally click Sign Up, your heart flutters. Do I doxx myself completely? Or do I not… Instead of choosing a photo that shows your entire face, you pick a very sexy, very ominous photo that one of your film major friends took of you in school. It’s you posed leaning back on a sofa. All silhouettes in red light. Only your side profile is showing. Dark enough to stay relatively anonymous, visible enough to pass the website's standards. Now a username. You look around the living room for inspiration, There's a stack of your textbooks on the shelf. FinanceNerd? Nope. Absolutely not. Your eyes land on the old film camera sitting on the table. ShutterBaby? God, that sounds like a cartoon character. No. You chew on your lip, fingers tapping away again. Alumni hoodie. BerkeleyGrad? Kill me, I should give up while I’m ahead. Your gaze drifts toward the bookshelf again. Tucked between your other reads is a battered copy of Inferno. You’ve been slowly working your way through it again, mostly because Hozier sent you through a literary rabbit hole with his last album. You tilt your head. Francesca. Rimini. You hum. Both pretty. But… Your eyes shift to the fridge. There's a crooked little I <3 LA magnet—half a gag gift from Emeryl before you left, half a reminder of home. You laugh under your breath. La Rimini. It’s got a ring to it. A little mysterious. A little old-world, smart. You type it in. LaRimini. Click. You enter your ID information, then check the box that assures you that your full name is only ever made public if there’s a court order. You hit enter one more time and exhale. The profile accepts, and the screen instantly floods with profiles. Men in suits. Men on yachts. Men with smiles that they definitely bought. You scroll. Why did I put myself into this circle of hell right now? You scroll again. And then—
You pause. A profile catches your eye. Your pulse ticks a little faster. You lean in closer to the screen. No way. No FUCKING WAY. If you liked this please leave a comment! it really encourages me to keep writing these fics for yall. if you want to be added to the tag list also comment or send me an ask!!! love you all sm. -Liv
#harry castillo x you#harry castillo smut#materialists#ppcu fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#harry castillo fanfiction#the materialists
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
Private (Kelly Smith x Reader)
Where you and Kelly are in a private not secret relationship.....
Arsenal was your club. It was your life.
Your earliest memory was going to Highbury as a child every weekend, a signed photo of your favourite player at the time sat about your bed, changing every season as your mind flittered between players. At the age of eight you had to beg your mum and dad to redecorate your room from the baby pink princess wonderland to a bright red Arsenal inspired mural. You were a goner through and through.
All you wanted to do was play for Arsenal, in front of thousands of supporters all cheering your name. Your gender was the only issue.
So whilst your twin brother moved through the age groups, eventually signing on for a local lower league club, you were left to face the real world.
From the ages of 16 to 25 you spent your weekdays behind a desk, an admin assistant role you couldn’t have hated more if you tried. You lived for those evenings you spent with your local women’s football team. You weren’t paid, you had to wash your own kits, the other team didn’t turn up sometimes, but you loved it.
And that love paid off. When you were scouted by Arsenal it was a dream come true. It might not have been the glamour you were expecting as a child, you still had to work, you still had to wash your own kits, the crowds were usually hundreds not thousands. But you played for the childhood team you adored.
Your favourite footballing memory came in that 2007 UEFA Women’s Cup final, at 23 it felt like you’d conquered the world. As a central defender your two clean sheets more than contributed to a 1-0 double legged win over the favourites.
But you had a lot more to thank Arsenal for than just the footballing memories.
It gave you the family you so desperately loved. Kelly was the star in that team, the person you all looked to in hard times, and the person you fell for from day one. And maybe if it wasn’t for those celebrations in 2007, following 2 years of pining for her, you wouldn’t have ever had the courage to go for it.
And that led you to today.
When the both of you retired in 2017 you were very lucky to have different offers available to you both, whilst Kelly went down the coaching route, heavily being involved within the game and now sitting as assistant coach for Arsenal women. You on the other hand took a role in front of the camera, now a regular on several platforms, presenting and commentating on the game you loved. All of that whilst being a regular at Arsenal, taking on a mentoring role within the club.
You never intended to keep your relationship a secret. At the start maybe, the 7-year age gap between you both wasn’t something you wanted to be twisted in the media, you knew you had something good and that was all that mattered.
But then the moment just never arrived, of course the fans now knew you were together, but you had never spoken in public about it. Private but not secret.
Your wedding following your retirement was very intimate, a few close friends and family probably sealed the deal in the minds of many. It was too much of a co-incidence for you both to post pictures of your own wedding bands at the same time.
If not then your growing family definitely did. In 2019 you welcomed your first daughter into the world, Elsie, followed by Theo in 2021 and your family was completed by the arrival of Ava in 2024. You’d been spotted by fans together on multiple occasions, been in the background of photos together but you never felt the need to make any sort of statement on it.
But today was special in so many ways.
Arsenal had the chance to win a European cup for the first time since you did back in 2007.
You’d barely seen Kelly for the past week, she was either sleeping, playing with the children or at Arsenal. You arrived in Lisbon late last night, heading straight to your hotel, both of your parents accompanying you on the trip, not just to help with the flight but you were working today.
Of course you had both mentioned what was happening today enough that your kids knew what was happening, at 7 you were woken by Elsie and Theo jumping on top of you ready to start the day.
“Mummy’s going to do it today.” Elsie mentioned as you all sat and ate breakfast, Ava suckling the bottle you’d prepped earlier as you ate with the other hand. “She told me.”
“Do you think?”
“Of course, she’s the best.” You probably should have emphasised how good Barcelona were, how Arsenal were the underdogs in many peoples’ eyes. But today felt different, you’d visited some of the squad this week. You built up a mentoring relationship with some of the players, Leah and Lotte especially at some points had felt like your adopted children. Katie was the kid’s crazy auntie. Your kids had become regular visitors at the training ground. You knew every player would give it everything today and on their day they could beat anyone. “Then when I’m older I’m going to win it.”
“With Arsenal?”
“Why would I play for anyone else?”
…..
Your job as a presenter took you to some incredible stadiums. You’d been part of the crew at the past two World Cups and the Euro’s in England, Lisbon matched all of them.
You liked to arrive early, take in the atmosphere both before everyone was on the move and everything was rushed. The children were all taken care of by their grandparents, you were yet to get changed, still in your shorts and old Arsenal shirt and you stood in the centre circle, just taking it all in.
You could feel the nerves creeping in, you’d been so confident all week, it felt different and yet football was nothing without nerves. This mattered and with that came nerves. You wanted this, not just for women’s sport in England, not just for those players, for this club, all the staff, you wanted it for Kelly. For all the work she’s put in, for those long hours and night away. For her.
“Any final words of wisdom?” You were so in your own head you’d blocked out the stream of players now making their way into centre field, Leah coming to wrap her arm around your shoulder. “You good?”
“I will be tonight.” You replied, wrapping your own arm around her waist. “How are you?”
“I’m good, it’s going to be tough but we have to believe.” She sounded confident. “At least that’s what you’ve been telling me all week.”
“Don’t leave any regrets out there, as long as you do that then you can look back on today as a good experience. Whatever happens, it’s all out there.”
“How are the kids?”
“Excited, Elsie told me this morning that you’re going to win tonight and then she’ll win it when she’s older.”
“That girl.” That look told you all you needed to know, you were going to have your hands full with that girl.
“I know.”
“How can she not be when she’s got two legends for mums.”
“Well one at least, not sure about the other one.” Kelly sneaked up behind you both, her body language the image of cool.
“I’ll leave you to it, see you later.” Leah leaned in to give you a hug.
“Go shine out there.” You whispered in her ear, giving her one final tap before you were left alone. “You ready?”
“Of course, what time are they due to get here?”
“Not until just before kick-off, they’ll never sit still otherwise. They’ve got your genes after all.”
“Nothing to do with you of course.”
“Never, I-“
“Y/N, make-up are ready for you.” The floor runner interrupted you both. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” You waved her off before pulling Kelly into your arms, the small number of cameras in the vicinity not enough to spoil this moment. “Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
……
You could never be impartial in a game like this.
You just about managed to be persuaded to take off your Arsenal shirt, the compromise being a bright red satin skirt with a white shirt tucked in.
Your make up was done, you’d ironed out your shirt, checked in on the kids en-route and now it was time to be in front of the camera.
Karen Carney and Fara Williams would be with you today, Becky anchoring the show. The analysis shifted between both teams as they warmed up behind you, the atmosphere building as the crowd grew.
“Y/N you were part of that team back in 2007,” Becky turned to you. “We all know you work closely with Arsenal. What advice have you given them these past few weeks?”
“The cliché is to just say go out and enjoy it. Of course I’ve told them that but it’s just about leaving it all out there. As long as you do your job and you do it to the best of your ability then you can leave today without any regrets.”
“How are your nerves holding up?” Fara teased you. “You love this club.”
“I do, I was doing alright until about two hours ago. Now I’m nervous, I just want it so much for all of them.”
The focus switched to the change in Barcelona’s coach before the attention switched back to Arsenal and their new team.
“Obviously Renee can’t do it alone, she’s joined by Kelly Smith. Y/N your old teammate, what does she offer to this team?” Becky ever the professional asked, a few snickers coming from your counter-parts.
“She’s again just the ultimate professional. There’s no-one better for the team to have around them when she’s there to offer advice. She loves Arsenal and she’s committed to making this team better and taking them to days like today.”
“How has she coped this week?” Karen asked.
“She’s very chilled,” You answered honestly. “At least that’s the version I see, she works long hours and then comes home and switches off.”
It felt natural to speak about her, you were private as a couple but it felt right to give her credit.
“I’m sure right now she’s just in the zone, maybe if you cross to her in the final ten minutes she’ll be anything but calm.”
……
You were anything but calm.
If you had a heart rate monitor on right now, you were sure it would be through the roof. Your ring finger was red raw from fidgeting with your wedding ring throughout. You couldn’t sit still. The air felt tight around you, your chest pounding as you watched the clock slowly tick.
Time was slowing down but Arsenal were winning.
Arsenal were minutes away from being European Champions.
Football in your mind was separated into moments as a player and moments as a supporter and the moment that Stina goal went in was the most joy you’d had as a spectator. You’d grabbed Fara next to you, clinging on for dear life as you jumped onto the seat. Soaking in the atmosphere as the Arsenal red around you jumped for joy.
That moment felt like a lifetime ago now as you watched the board for 7 added minutes go up.
You’d been ushered over to pitch side, ready to step on the moment the whistle went, except now you weren’t just fidgeting in your seat. You were pacing, back and forth, back and forth. Glancing at the clock. Watching the play. Closing your eyes.
It was almost over, Barcelona had a freekick in their own half. Last chance saloon. You couldn’t watch as they got the ball going again.
Then it was all over.
The ref’s whistle blew.
The crowds showed the two sides of football. Barcelona fans slumped in their seats, Arsenal fans jumped out of theirs.
Arsenal were champions.
You were known as the steely defender in your playing days, sent off on a couple of occasions. Not against the odd yellow card. But right now you couldn’t stop the tears from coming as you watched the players and staff swarm on the pitch. Their joy bringing you so much joy.
They only increased as you looked up into the stands, your eyes trained on the little figures in their box, away from the mess currently in the crowds, the smile on their faces as they jumped up and down enough to bring out a little sob. They were right.
You were glad the cameras weren’t on you right now as the TV pictures stayed on the players, your voices now transmitting over them.
“Y/N we can see you’re very emotional right now.” Becky said. “Can you describe how you’re feeling right now?”
“I’m just so happy for the players and the staff, everyone. They deserve it so much, they were all exceptional today to a woman they all did their job. I couldn’t be more proud of them.”
“She’s just glad it’s all over.” Fara interrupted you. “I think she lost ten years in those last ten minutes.”
“Maybe more.”
You handed back over to the commentary team for the team to be given their medals and then the trophy lift. It was a good thing they didn’t need you for commentary as you were honestly left speechless watching on as your wife and all her colleagues received their medals and then joined the team on the podium.
You rejoined your own colleagues on the podium as the team began to disperse around the pitch, giving the fans in the stadium a lap of honour with the trophy.
“Y/N talk us through how tiring it is to defend like Arsenal did over 90 minutes.” Becky asked you.
“It’s exhausting, Barcelona enjoyed really good spells of possession at times today. It would have felt like it’s just them coming in waves and waves, you have to stay pinpoint focused otherwise they’ve got players like Aitana and Alexia who can take an inch and produce a goal.”
“You’ll all have had tough moments in your careers, Stina Blackstenius has had lots of those moments over the past season. How will today have felt for her?”
“Well live for those moments as footballers.” Fara started. “Football comes with it’s tough moments, there are times for everyone where-“
You should have been expecting it really, you were patiently waiting to speak to the players, expecting to get your moment in turn. What you definitely weren’t expecting was for a body to jump on your back, completely knocking you off balance and tumbling to the floor.
“Yess girllllll.” The Irish accent gave it away, so many more bodies piling on top of you, the cameras capturing the moment you were stuck at the bottom of a full pile on, sweat all over your body but you couldn’t care less.
Their smiles lit up the whole pitch as they helped you back on your feet, Leah, Katie, Vic, Lotte, Steph all giving you massive hugs.
“Girls can we get some thoughts on today.” Fara asked them, each of them putting their happiness into words, a few swears coming out but it was filled with delight.
“But I have to thank Y/N.” Katie said pulling you into her arms again. “As a young girl you took me in, under your wing, you showed me what it took to become a professional footballer. You looked after me when I was homesick, invited me into your home.”
These girls couldn’t stop making you cry.
“Even now I know I can always come and get your advice, on football, life, anything. You mean so much to the whole team.” The other girls nodded in agreement. “This one is for you as well. I love you girl.”
“I love you lots.” You whispered back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Go and celebrate.”
“I’ll save you a tequila.”
“You better.”
You’d only just gotten over that, the focus turning back to analysis, watching back their highlights of the game when you spotted a figure walking towards you.
Fuck professionalism, this was your moment. “I’m sorry.” You apologised, setting down the microphone on the podium and running. Running into the awaiting arms of Kelly, her arms wrapping around your waist as she spun you in the air. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” She whispered back, sealing your lips in a short kiss. “We did it!”
“You did it.”
Kelly was a national treasure, of course they would want an interview and you held her hand as you both made your way back to the podium.
Of course she did the usual questions, the nerves, the game plan, how the players performed. “How does this compare to 2007?” Karen asked Kelly.
“It feels different, we were in Borehamwood, in front of fractions compared to today. Lots of us had work to go to the next day. Now we all know what this means, we’ve worked for months, years for this moment.” She explained. “Plus I’ve got a family here watching on, people I want to make proud.”
“And you did just that.” You confirmed, wrapping your arms around her. “People won’t see the hard work you’ve put in to get to this moment but I do, our children do, you’re the best partner, best mum and you’re our hero.”
“You guys…..” Karen teased you both. “I think you’ve got some little people here to celebrate with.”
You couldn’t do anything but watch as Elsie and Theo ran onto the pitch, straight into Kelly’s arms. You let them have their moment, going over to the sidelines to grab Ava from your mum’s arms before joining them all in a group hug.
“You did it mum!”
“We did.” You couldn’t help but laugh as a mixture of tears and joy lined all your faces.
“I need to find Auntie Katie,” Elsie muttered leaving your grasp. “She promised me something…..”
It wouldn’t be till later on you found out what that was, as you sat in Kelly’s arms in the corner of the party. The two of you all danced out as you watched the younger girls dance the night away, alcohol and pizza lining their stomachs. The two of you in your own little bubble of love.
“Oi you two, how would I go about getting a football net installed in your background…..”
#woso imagine#woso#woso imagines#woso x reader#arsenal x reader#arsenal imagines#arsenal wfc#arsenal imagine#kelly smith#kelly smith x reader#kelly smith imagine#arsenal women
244 notes
·
View notes
Text
theyre as silly as the music i listen to while drawing them
#genshin impact#gsi#childe#tartaglia#ajax#alhaitham#haitham#chitham#haichi#admin draws#fanart#doodles from 3 distinct sessions that ive been building up in the drafts#anyways. cough. id link to the full ver of that 3rd one but ive locked my 'side' twitter account again cos of bots#if i do unlock it at some point or u wanna follow it just because. its slavviehew#i might get around this with like pillowfort or something so i can actually share this stuff on tumblr too
83 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! Love your Tumblr! I'm fascinated by the fact that you are in China making and playing the Guqin, I was wondering if you can share a bit more about yourself and your background and why you decided to move to China? Like a self intro (that you're comfortable sharing). Thanks and have a nice day!!
Hello :D
How I ended up in Yangzhou learning to make/play the Guqin is a rollercoaster of a story xDD
As for my background, I was born in China (Beijing) and moved to the US when I was around 6 yrs old (my mom had moved several years earlier and I went to live with her). From the start my mom emphasized I can't forget I'm Chinese, because that's where I'm from and where my family's from, so she put in a lot of effort teaching me Chinese. She even had a colleague send over elementary school textbooks from China so she could teach me Chinese at home. She also got recordings of some Chinese TV shows and she'd watch them with me, explaining each episode and giving me information on that period of history.
Back then there weren't that many TV shows in China, and the ones we could access in the US were even less, so it was mostly classics shows like Journey to the West (1986), Dream of the Red Chamber (1987) and Romance of the Three Kingdoms (1994):
That really planted the root for my interest in Chinese history and culture. Especially in the case of Romance of the Three Kinggoms that was based on the actual Three Kingdoms period in Chinese history, it made me aware of how long China's history was and how rich and colourful it was, all the incredible historical figures, the battles of the past, the stories, etc.
Later on I also became interested in Chinese Opera (mainly Peking Opera, Huangmei Opera, and Shanghai Yue Opera):
We moved to Canada after a few years and stayed there until I graduated uni. I then went to Japan to work for a few yrs.
When I returned to Canada, it was 2018 and I found myself having to start all over career-wise. My experience in Japan really didn't help me at all when job hunting in Canada, and I ended up doing a few entry-level jobs in healthcare (office admin work). Then Covid and I lost my job, found another job about a year later, but still entry-level.
It was actually during the Covid break that I found out I could buy Hanfu fairly easily now. Throughout my time at uni and in Japan I didn't really check Chinese websites so I didn't know much about what was happening in China. During the Covid break, with nothing else to do at home, I found Taobao and realized the pretty clothes I adored in TV shows as a child I can now buy :D I went a bit crazy at first and ordered a whole bunch, but at the time I honestly didn't know too much about Hanfu aside from long robes, large sleeves, criss-crossed collars. But it was fun to wear them out (once lockdown ended) and actually feel like the characters I once saw on TV:
The job I had just before I came to China I actually really enjoyed, the work itself was fulfilling, the pay wasn't great but OK, and my co-workers for the most part were pretty good (my direct supervisor was great, I really, really enjoyed working with her). Unfortunately there was some changes to staffing in the office and the workload became really bad. I found myself literally having nightmares about work, and crying driving to and from work everyday. I decided I needed to quit. It was taking over my life 24/7, I was constantly tense and dreaded having to go to the office every morning.
At this point I'm in my late 30s and I took a few months to think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Either look for another regular office job that may or may not be better than the last, or try something completely different.
At the same time, I decided to take the chance to visit my family in China. Without a job, I could visit for a longer period of time (otherwise I could only get 2 wks paid vacation). I remember my mom mentioned during one of her visits to China she had met a master of woodblock printing (雕版印刷/diaoban yinshua). It was the first form of printing invented, they would carve out pages of text (or images), put ink over top, then print it onto paper:
This was even earlier than movable type printing (活字印刷/huozi yinshua) where each character was printed on a separate block so you could arrange them as needed:
This master's workshop took in apprentices and would offer free housing and food. After a certain amount of time, once the apprentices' work reached a certain level, they were even given a salary for their work.
I thought that sounded like a great plan. I didn't explicitly come to China with the goal of finding a place to do an apprenticeship, but I was aware this sort of opportunity was available, and it aligned with my interest in Chinese history and culture.
When I arrived in China last year I spent a few months visiting my dad and other family, before I ended up in Yangzhou.
There were some emotional ups and downs in between, I did find a woodblock printing master, I started to learn a bit with him, it didn't work out, etc., etc. But essentially I found myself in Yangzhou with nothing to do.
Yangzhou is quite famous for Guqin (there's an entire street here dedicated to selling Guqin...although it's a bit of a tourist trap ^^;;) , and I thought I could find a teacher to learn how to play the instrument at least. I had bought a Guqin years ago in Canada, but was always too busy/lazy to actually learn/practice it, but now being free everyday I decided I could do some sort of intense course. While scrolling through the Red Note app looking for Guqin teachers I came across a post of a teacher looking for students to learn how to make+play Guqin, with the option to live at the workshop and have housing and food covered:
And my eyes lit up.
That was how it all started :D
The biggest obstacle is honestly some family members. Growing up abroad, I've never really had a close relationship with any of my relatives in China. I've also never had to navigate the complicated family relations that Chinese families can sometimes have. If I were to go to any other country in the world to learn something, none of them would say anything, I don't think they'd even think about it, but because I'm in China a lot of them suddenly feel they need to express an opinion about my decisions, lol. Some don't like my interest in wearing Hanfu, some think I'm crazy learning something that "no one else these days is interested in", some think I'm immature/irresponsible not finding a 'regular' job and 'wasting' my time. Luckily, none of them live in Yangzhou so aside from a passive-aggressive text message/phone call once in awhile I can do my own thing 😁💖
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
ATEEZ AS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS ... bullet - point fic ( 17+ )
pairing : teacher!ateez x teacher!f!reader (separately)
genre : teacher au, fluff, comedy, workplace romance, bulletpoint headcanons, implied co-workers to lovers (for all of them), secret relationships (for a lot of them)
word count : 4.1k
warnings : middle schoolers (yes this is needed), mentions of students shipping their teachers, mentions of a past make-out from college (mingi's section)
note : inspired by these prompts and my own job lol
honorary tag : @sanjoongie
what i think it would be like working with ateez in a middle school and perhaps being something more than co-workers with them.
KIM HONGJOONG
he's a math teacher – seventh grade and also head of the math department at the school
when he's teaching, he's in his element and he's very passionate about teaching his student and the content
he was terrible at math when he was a student and often tells his own students in order to motivate them...
sometimes it works but most times it doesn't
he's definitely one of the more stricter teachers at the beginning of the year, but lets up near the end of the year
students love him, like there's not one kid who hates him
some students do wonder how he manages to get away with his funky hair colors, but no one really questions it anymore
he's also very stylish and is known for his fashionable looks that make him look like he just came off the runway
the two of you met when you started teaching at the same school, he's been teaching for two years longer than you have
you also teach seventh grade and immediately clicked as friends on your first day
he answers any questions you have that isn't content related and is kind of seen as the head of the seventh grade as well
he gets along well with the older teachers who have been doing this for 20+ years, those teachers either go to you or him when they need help with the new programs that admin is making them use in class
a lot of the students ask him if you two are dating because you're the younger teachers in the grade-level and are always hanging out
"dating? why are you worried about who i'm dating? we have equations to worry about," he would say and always brush them off
most of the students drop, not really wanting to make hongjoong upset but that doesn't mean the question won't come up again later on
your students will also ask you the same question and like hongjoong, you brush them off and not really answering them
the students would often go back and forth on if you two were dating or not with some even trying to provide "evidence" that you were dating
and some students gave up on thinking that their literature and math teacher were dating
until one day you showed up to school wearing a cardigan
and not just any cardigan
a cardigan that hongjoong wore a month ago, one that students knew was custom made by their teacher himself
and the whole seventh grade lost their minds because holy cow, their literature teacher and math teacher WERE in fact dating
the evidence of you wearing hongjoong's cardigan was enough to convince all the students it was true
so then some of them decided to confront you both
"teacher kim, teacher l/n we know your secret."
you and hongjoong were of course confused because of course your students had to be cryptic about everything... seventh graders 😒
"we know you guys are dating! teacher l/n, you're wearing teacher kim's custom cardigan!"
hongjoong had never turned his head so fast in his life and he immediately looked at the cardigan and sure enough
it was his
and you two were busted because now all your students knew you both were at least something, if not more than friends
PARK SEONGHWA
seonghwa teaches eighth grade reading / literature, he also has his masters in special education and administration
he is also the teacher that heads student council – like he built it from the ground up after the teacher before him let it crash and burn allowed it to be ruined
but seonghwa rebuilt the student council club and now its flourishes thanks to his leadership skills and teaching the students those same leadership skills
being a teacher is like a family job, his mother was a teacher and taught at the same school that he now teaches at
he wanted to become one to continue her legacy
students think he's way too handsome to be a teacher
he's also way too nice to be a teacher but like... none of the students ever give him issues
like even the behavior students don't disrespect him like they would other teachers – its kind of crazy
you had always admired seonghwa because of how good he was at his job and honestly... you were kind of jealous of him too
but you wouldn't dare tell him
you can't help but be amazed when you watch him speak at department meetings and how he always voices his thoughts so elegantly
seonghwa is also never afraid to help you if he sees you struggling or to ask for your opinion during meetings when he notices you haven't spoken
and he'll always back you up which surprises you because you aren't friends or even in the same grade
you kind of developed a crush on him but again you would never tell him or anybody for that matter
which to be honest, your crush and admiration is probably what lead you to volunteering to help out with the student council overnight trip to a student council convention
it was you, seonghwa, plus the ten student council students that qualified to go
you really never knew who exhausting planning a field trip was and seonghwa amazed you once again with how well-planned out the trip was
it kind of made you feel guilty because of how little you did to help out with the planning
"don't feel bad y/n! i'm glad you volunteered to come, i usually struggle with finding someone to come with me to help chaperone."
"really?"
"yeah."
well... that did make you feel a little better
and of course since you two were the only chaperones, that meant the two of you got to room together
the students were pretty sure they almost saw you pass out in the hotel lobby when seonghwa told you that
"teacher l/n, are you okay! you don't look so good!"
"i'm fine..."
"you're fine with sharing a room together right?" seonghwa asks once the two of you are alone in the hotel room
the students were also in their own hotel rooms and winding down after the long trip, you could feel yourself sink into the bed once you got into the room
"its fine, i don't mind," you tell him and seonghwa gives you a warm smile as he settles down on the bed next to yours "are field trips always this exhausting?"
"only the overnight ones"
"great"
JEONG YUNHO
eighth grade history teacher but he's also taught sixth grade history in the past as well
yunho is very serious about teaching and strict when it comes to listening, doing work, being respectful, etc.
especially in the beginning of the year, but does let up a little bit near the end and after exams and stuff
he has a strict schedule that he follows when teaching his content and knows his content like the back of his hand
he has a routine and the students are quick to learn it and make sure the others are at least doing what they are suppose to be doing when the bell rings
but despite how strict and stuff he is, yunho loves teaching and the kids love his class
even if they don't like it at the beginning, the class and yunho will grow on them before the year is over
even the other teachers respect yunho and will ask him on how he teaches certain events and whatnot, always going to him for tips on where to find good materials
yunho is like the jack-of-all-materials
even has his own tpt page because of how much stuff he has made for his own class and co-workers
you will also always find him and san hanging out together in each other's room during their planning time
usually gossiping about students or other teachers
students have learned that when san walks into yunho's room, then its serious because san never leaves his room during class time
also no one ever really bothers yunho because of how strict he is with teaching and getting everything he needs done, to get done
however, students are shocked when you walk into yunho's room one day WHILE he's teaching to ask him a question
like their jaws drop when yunho stops teaching in order to help you with something and laughing with you as he brushes your apology off
it was like they just watched a mean dog turned into the friendliest puppy when you walked in
some of them questioned if they were transported to a different reality because there is no way this is happening
you and yunho are like night and day, yunho with dark button-ups and you with your funky colored pants
"you're seeing this to right?" one of them would whisper to the other students around them
the students were too stunned to speak
"hey! get to work, i expect you to have these notes written down by the time i'm done," yunho would say and immediately the students would get to work
"thank you teacher jeong, i appreciate the help with this new program"
"sure, its no problem," he says as he walks you to the door. "choi came to me during planning asking about it plus some other teachers as well"
"ah, well glad i'm not the only one struggling!" you let out a laugh and yunho returns it and laughs with you, "i'll see you after school, yeah?"
"of course"
you wave as you close the door behind you and yunho immediately goes back into his teaching mode
once again leaving his students shocked and with whiplash from how fast his attitude changed
"we really were in just another reality"
KANG YEOSANG
seventh grade history but wants to one day be a librarian
yeosang loves history but is also certified to teach reading/literature
a lot of the students and teachers love him for how nice he is to everyone
he really connects well with the behavior students, like a lot of them will always say he's there favorite teacher
even the ones who never come to class, go to yeosang's class because who in their right mind who skip teacher kang's class?
no one that's who
students will always go to him when there's an issue because they know he will help them
that's why a lot of them are surprised when they find out him and wooyoung are best friends since high school
"you and teacher jung are best friends!?"
"yep! have been for years!" and yeosang is proud to say that him and wooyoung are best friends and can teach together at the same school
none of the students can get over how handsome he is as well and a lot of sixth graders can only hope to get him in seventh grade
"teacher kang, you're so handsome you could be an actor!"
yeosang can only smile at the comments, not really saying anything as he's use to those comments by now
well coming from his students or other adults that is
however, hearing those comments (or reading them) from you is a different story
he doesn't know how you manage to time it whenever his students are doing independent work but you do
he'll be at his desk or walking around, when you come in and some the students will immediately greet you
you simply smile and wave at them before walking over to hand yeosang something
"i got the stuff from your mailbox while i was at mine," you told him
yeosang thanks you and you smile at him before turning and leaving
you usually go to the mailbox when you need a break from your class and there's already someone in there to help
yeosang looks at the stuff in his hands, and notices the folded piece of paper that had his name written nicely in your handwriting
he opens it as he walks to his desk and immediately feels a warmth overtake his face
'you look really pretty today, yeo ;) can't wait to hangout after school in our usual place! miss you already!'
yeosang quickly stored the note in his desk, before quickly going back to teaching and trying to hide the excitement of seeing you later to the back of his mind
CHOI SAN
eighth grade reading/literature teacher along with seonghwa and school's volleyball coach
he played volleyball when he was in school and so he's very passionate about the sport and his athletes
a tough coach and an even tougher teacher, but only because he knows all his students can do better than what they showing him
like seonghwa with student council, san managed to help the volleyball team go to nationals thanks to his coaching and the his girls' effort and teamwork
a lot of students are scared of him because of how he coaches, especially his athletes – like even just the mention of san gets them scared
but really san just wants the best for all his students and just like volleyball, he's also passionate about his teaching
very writing focused versus seonghwa who is more reading based, but they work really well together to make sure all their students are getting the same knowledge and material
san's not afraid to speak his mind during department meetings and the other teachers know this – like he will straight up call something out if he knows it won't work
seonghwa usually has to cut him off because of this, they are a very funny duo and students love watching them interact
"teacher choi is like a dark cloud and teacher park is like a sunny day"
like the kids, you are also intimidated by him because of how much just pure authority he gives off
like you would think he's a principal from how students act around him
he actually does step up as an admin when the actual principals are out of the building because he does have his masters in administration, so he could very well one day become a principal
but going back to you being intimidated by him 💀
you never really dared to approach him, always sitting on the opposite side of the room during department meetings
mainly because you didn't want to get on his bad side
"please teacher l/n, can you help us start this club?"
"sure, girls!" you were more than happy to help sponsor their club "who's the other teacher?"
you watched as the girls' faces deflated at the question, of course you don't blame them for not knowing that clubs needed two teachers to become official, not just one
"i have a teacher in mind!"
"who?" "tell us!"
"coach choi, can help! especially since volleyball is over!"
you felt the color drain from your face at the thought of san and you running a club together
"teacher l/n will you ask coach choi if he can help us?"
"sure... i'll ask."
"a club?"
"yeah, some of your volleyball girls recommended you and wanted to see if you could be the second teacher sponsor."
"ah, that's right. the school has that stupid two teacher club sponsor rule. always did think that was dumb."
san thought for a minute which felt like a lifetime the longer you stood in his classroom
"sure, why not. i'm sure it'll be fun to run a club together."
"i'm sure the girls will also appreciate it. i'll send you the information when i hear back from the principal about the club."
"of course, if you have any issues let me know."
"will do, thanks!"
that was definitely a lot less nerve-racking then you thought it would be...
maybe running a club san won't be so bad after all
SONG MINGI
mingi is THE ms. frizzle aka the best science teacher you will ever have
he teaches sixth grade science and is always having some sort of fun with testing experiments and theories with the students
science class will forever be ruined after you have him as a teacher because no one is doing it like mingi
literally older students will come by to see either him or wooyoung and they will always ask mingi what he is currently doing in that class
and while he's an amazing teacher – he's also hella clumsy
like students learn fast not to leave their things in the floor if they don't want this 6ft tall man tripping over and possible destroying their things
someone save this man from all those decorative pencil pouches and metal water bottles pls 💀
anyways, a lot of students love mingi because of his fun personality and not because he almost below up the science lab because a experiment gone wrong
very much into team building and having all the students work together towards a goal because he knows how important teamwork is in life and wants students to have it
a lot of students are actually intimidated by him when they first see him because of his tall stature and harsh look
but he's really cool once him and the students build that rapport
so a lot of students were surprised when they found out that you and mingi were best friends
it never really clicked for most of them since you both taught different grades AND subjects
but then during school assemblies and such, you and mingi would always be sitting next to each other
whispering and laughing to each other and it would leave students bewildered when they saw the two of you
like "what in the world are they laughing about?"
"you know... the kiddos asked me the other day about us," you said, leaning over and whispering into his ear
"yeah?"
"they asked me how long we've been friends"
"w-what did you tell them?"
"since college, i left out the part where you made out with my best friend before tripping over her bag and landed into my lap."
you could tell mingi was blushing, his ears turning red at your words
"i-it wasn't like that!"
"i know, no need to feel embarrassed. i agreed to go out with you didn't i?"
you couldn't help the smirk on your face while mingi had a pout on his own, completely forgetting that the two of you were suppose to be watching the talent show and not flirting
JUNG WOOYOUNG
teaches sixth grade math and is an on-going menace to his students
you either love or hate him because of how he teaches and runs his classroom
always changing the seating desk arrangement in his room which keeps students on their toes
he's always a complete 180 from hongjoong who is the head of the math department
like students get whiplash when they go from wooyoung to hongjoong because of how different they are
but that's not to say wooyoung is bad at his job, on the contrary wooyoung is fantastic at his job
always has a math pun ready to whip out when needed and is always dishing out savage remarks to his students when they try to be a smart-ass to him
they learn quick that they won't be able make smart comments with him around
wooyoung is just very blunt with how he's feeling – like if a student makes him mad you'll know he's mad
does a lot of bootcamp punishments (i.e makes them do exercises when they don't listen to him like: jumping jacks, squats, nothing too extreme) this makes kids not want to disrespect him because they know what will happen if they do
some parents have thought it was "extreme" but he simply told them "well it got your child to listen for once in their life" – that shut the parent up real quick
but wooyoung rarely gets serious because he has the respect from students and so those bootcamp punishments are rare and few in-between
most of the time he's fun and playful which also travels over to how he acts with his fellow teachers
including you
wooyoung always visits you when he's on his planning period
like your class can always expect him to stop by at least once during their class
which none of them mind cause that means they can see their favorite math teacher again but don't tell hongjoong that
however with his constant visits, it makes students question if you guys are dating
especially when wooyoung is always complimenting you when you're at your desk and you both think that the students can't hear you
"you look very lovely today, teacher l/n."
"watch yourself, jung."
you eventually have to run wooyoung off so you can get back to teaching
"oh they are totally dating" students would whisper to each other watching the two of you interact
students really really ship you guys together and are always questioning you about your ideal type and stuff
but you always brush off their questions and comments about how you and teacher jung would look great together
and eventually the students had moved on to something else and you were thankfully left alone about your love life by your students
until one day when you and wooyoung were spotted by some students outside of school
you and him had went to the store together, not really thinking about school as you both spent time together
however that peace between the two of you was set ablaze when heard a familiar "teacher l/n! teacher jung!" and snapping the two of you out of your daze
wooyoung was quick to greet the students who approached you both, a smile on his face and arm around his shoulder
and you knew your secret was out because of how the students' zoned in on wooyoung's arm around your shoulder
you couldn't help but dread what would happen when you arrive at school tomorrow
"i didn't like keeping it a secret anyways," he would making you smack the back of his head in response before pushing the shopping cart and walking away from your boyfriend
CHOI JONGHO
eighth grade math who got roped into teaching seventh grade science as well
jongho is really in his element when it comes to math
and is really hanging by a thread when it comes to science
like he's the opposite of mingi and HATES science – like who thought it was a good idea to have this man teach it?
oh, they did a budget cut and so they were down a science teacher? makes sense.
the kids either love or hate him because of how he teaches
his eighth graders and seventh graders are like night and day when it comes to literally everything
it might also have something to do with the content but just let him complain about his seventh graders
you actually found him one day in the workroom stressing over his science while eating his ramen
you remember some of your kids talking about jongho and you've seen him at faculty meetings
but never had a one-on-one conversation with him mainly because he was in a totally different content and grade from you (he was still an eighth grade teacher at the end of the day)
you know hongjoong really likes him and praises him for learning how to adapt so well to a new content era that he never studied in
you think that for a first-year teacher he's doing a lot better than you had when you were in his shoes
and you figure what's the harm in talking to him and seeing how he's doing
"everything going okay, teacher choi?"
he's caught off guard by your voice, jumping and looking up at you as you walk over to get your copies from the copier
"oh, um, i'm fine. just thinking about what i'm gonna do for my science class"
"ahh, that's fair, i still can't believe they have you teaching science and math for your first year"
jongho lets out a laugh which is followed by a small "yeah... i can't either"
"but hongjoong says that you're doing a good job for your first year, so you should be proud! hongjoong never compliments anyone"
"really?"
"really. and just know that if you ever need help just reach out. i know you're not a seventh grade teacher but us who teach seventh grade needs to stick together. its a tough group."
"oh my god, i'm so glad you think that as well! i thought it was just me!"
"oh no, everyone knows seventh grade is always the worse year, we all struggle with them at some point"
"that really makes me feel better about doing my job"
"jongho, you're doing a great job. the kids love you and there will always be those kids that make you feel like you are terrible at your job. but all you have to do is teach to the ones who want to be there, and worry about them."
you tell him the exact same words you were told when you were a first year and thinking the same thing
"thank you, y/n"
you can't help but smile as you nod your head, taking your copies and heading back to your room while jongho finishes his ramen
tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso
network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet
#cultofdionysusnet#cromernet#kdiarynet#ateez x reader#ateez blurbs#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez headcanons#ateez hongjoong x reader#ateez seonghwa x reader#ateez yunho x reader#ateez yeosang x reader#ateez san x reader#ateez mingi x reader#ateez wooyoung x reader#ateez jongho x reader
630 notes
·
View notes
Note
What I've been saying in interviews: "I'm the kind of person who will stay and work until the work is done, however long that takes"
What I mean when I say that: "I'm not really one who stares at clocks. Ideally I'd like to go home on time but if you need me to stay longer for whatever reason, I'm game. I very rarely do much after work so I don't mind staying if it's to get something important taken care of or to make sure a co-worker gets out on time for something more meaningful than my 6:30 to 11:30 video game sessions. Plus I'm never gonna turn down that sweet sweet overtime pay, ya feel me?"
What they have apparently heard in interviews: "I'm lazy and slow and will never finish the work on time. Don't hire me."
Posted by admin Rodney
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
9 and 18 with coach!sid please <3
"without ever touching him, how can i be guilty as sin?" & "i can tell when someone wants me" | poetic prompts | warnings: smut (18+ MDNI, i can redo if you don't want smut with these prompts!)
takes place after this fic.
"girl, quit eye fucking and leave some room for the rest of us. i can tell your fantasizing, but i don't blame you."
"i'm not touching him, so how can i be guilty of anything?" y/n co-workers words snap her out of her daze as she teases back. it was the beginning of an emergency staff meeting, the meaning was unknown and it was causing quite the buzz around the gymnasium. teachers, admin, and athletic staff alike were sitting together asking each other what they'd heard, known, or if they were getting fired. there was a heavy level of anxiety sitting in the room amongst them.
"sorry," y/n mumbled and sitting up straight. her friend chuckled beside her. but she couldn't help but stare, it had been a week since their dinner together, and it was all she could think about. she'd had trouble teaching, would zone out when talking to carter, their scandalous encounter was taking over her life.
"what do you think they're gonna talk about?" the other teacher asked sitting next to her, sipping coffee out of her tumbler and scrolling through emails looking for clues. "i think they're gonna talk about staff relationships."
her words made y/n's stomach drop. did it get out? did someone see her car at his house? did carter say something? did carter find out? it's amazing how many questions can run through the brain in just two seconds.
"i heard that the boys tennis coach, thomas, is having an affair with the girls tennis coach. i think one of the players caught them in the athletic offices but they did something to keep the kid quiet." y/n feels her nerves calm down, but not all that much. her eyes met with sidney's and she felt like he was trying to silently tell her something but she couldn't pick up on it. they weren't that connected.
yet.
moments later the superintendent gets on the mic and announces to faculty that in fact, both the girls and boys tennis coach were let go due to their actions. the boys coach resigned, and the girls coach was fired due to threatening the school district since she didn't do anything wrong and she was a single woman.
she felt a ball coil up inside her stomach as the staff were reminded of the policy: relationships among staff must be brought before the board if they occur within the school year. it was a district policy, to keep drama out of the way, and to keep relationships private to the parties benefit. at least, that was the way it was explained.
-
that meeting was bullshit. sent 10:45 am
y/n's phone pings signaling a text from sidney. she reads it as her students are taking their test. she feels butterflies and anxiety at the same time. her leg bouncing underneath her desk as she plans a reply.
...but what did he mean? was he against the rule, meaning he wanted a relationship? or was it just a waste of time? yes, it was a waste of time.
i know, it could have just been an email. sent 10:48
he never responds, but she gets too busy with other class periods. she gets lost back in time once more, fantasizing about that night. during lunch break spent in her darkened classroom, a bowl of warmed up soup in front of her as she grades papers until the next class comes through.
but she gets lost, in the deep trance of the memory of him. if she thinks really hard she can still feel his tongue sliding against her slick core, she can feel herself coming undone again at the force of his skilled and talented body.
she can feel his calloused but soft hands sliding down her body, grasping at her breasts while he sucks all of the sweet juice that flows out of her. she remembers her back arching off his wooden dinner table while he lapped at her for at least ten minutes straight, before he slid his thick cock inside of her for another ten.
she's taken out of her daydream by the sound of the school bell. she has three minutes to get herself back in order to teach again. she considers assigning today a reading and catch up day...so she can continue to reminisce.
dinner at my place? sent 1:23 pm
hell yes sent 1:24 pm
-
"you're bad at hiding your feelings, y/n." sidney stated, flipping over the steak on the grill and setting his wine glass down on the granite countertop. y/n sat on the barstool across from him, drinking a cocktail she made herself.
"what's that supposed to mean?" she took a bigger swig of the alcohol this time, holding eye contact with him as he leaned onto the countertop with his hands, making himself appear bigger in front of her. it worked.
"i can tell when someone wants me. half the women in that school want me, but you're the only one who went for it." she feels like a crook who was caught. "i know you act like last week didn't happen, but it's all i've been thinking about." now he's standing just inches from her on his back patio, the smell of grilled steak and vegetables filling her brain and the firm but agonizing touch making her go weak.
"it's all i can think about too." his thumb glides across her cheek, his whiskey colored eyes staring into her soul, what it feels like for hours. he bites his lip and she thinks she's gonna pass out.
"tell me what you thought about, maybe we'll reenact it after dinner. can't have you eating cold steak, can i?"
#GIF??? HOLY SHIT#j's writing#coach!sidney#coach!sid#sidney crosby imagine#sidney crosby x reader#sidney crosby smut#sidney crosby blurb#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl smut#hockey imagine#hockey x reader#hockey smut
304 notes
·
View notes
Text
They’re here!! Look at them in their tall, tired glory 🥹🥹
Writer brained rambles under the cut; (Office life)
vvvvvvvvvv
—————————————————————————————————————————————
They’re your resident soft-spoken introvert that managed to work up the ranks as the research lead; mostly by being an active listener (in actuality; they’re always too tired to give leading questions, so they mostly open with casual topics & let their clients talk their ear off until the conversation eventually leads to the topic at hand. Occasionally nodding along and keeping an easy going atmosphere). This leads to their company (Corton Investments) having a good network of clients & brokers under their roster, which keeps the staff busy with work [for better and for worse for Echo. But at least the paycheck to work ratio is better than what they make as a Hero.].
Due to their unique frame (a walking telephone pole) and gentle personality; they became known as the “Resident Admin”, always the first to be picked out from the crowd, and the first to help when asked. Even if it’s outside of their department, they’ll find a way. The most common occurrences being; interns with trouble navigating the company. One of the common pastimes between company veterans is to take bets on how long a new intern would take to confess to Echo; knowing eventually Echo would turn them down, even with the research dept. Staff warning said interns beforehand of the result. Many don’t listen, with many “I told you so’s” followed.
Their common reason for rejecting the confession was mostly due to the power imbalance; them being in a senior position with an intern, not the best look. Adding onto their workload and personal responsibilities, they don’t have the time or space for relationships.
When interns asked privately, why they don’t do relationships (between staff); many recall one particular relationship Echo had back when they were an intern themselves - a staff member from marketing that looked far too close to be between co-workers (it was never officially confirmed). But after 2 years, that staff member suddenly transferred branches, with a heartbroken Echo in their cubicle. No one knows the exact details, but many came to the conclusion that Richard [Company manager] had something to do with the separation; as he was the one that enforces a “No relationship” rule for the company. Though some in the company rumour mill spun it as a case of abuse of power; with the transferred staff member being the perpetrator. But that was quickly shut down once Echo caught wind of it, and had to set the record straight. Since their outburst, no one dared to bring up the transferred staff member’s name around them, with most of the staff moved on from the story out of respect for their wishes.
They’re a well-respected and important member of company staff, that despite their sudden- infrequent leaves for “personal matters”, it’s mostly overlooked since they can be trusted to return with their share of their work completed, tardiness withstanding. Which helps to Echo’s benefit, since outside of office hours; they moonlight as the city’s most beloved (& mysterious) super hero.
—————————————————————————————————————————————
Extra author notes & doodles;
Thank you so much for reading this far in 🥰
I have so much fun writing and planning out Echo’s story; the descriptive summary above is but 1 part of many little sprinkles of their lore, i plan to make short fan comics with accompanied illustrations/ doodles for future instalments set in the Criminally Your’s universe (most of it are my head cannons, and set prior to the release of Part.2).
Pls go and play the game: https://meant-to-bee-studios.itch.io/criminally-yours
It’s so good and I need more people to be equally CY pilled with me 🤪😘
#criminallyyours#criminallyyoursfanart#criminallyyoursvn#digital art#fanart#criminallytaken#original character#character design#character art#oc#oc art#writing#*Hypnotising you to play Criminally yours*#Please#I promise I’ll draw Nik oiled up for the next post if you do it#do it for me👉👈#im so very serious#I’m looking at my old anatomy books again just to draw Nik extra juicy#the power of Simp compels me#getting obsessed with this game has done things to my art#and im not complaining#Riding this creative high until this dual eyed blonde becomes a decrepit scrub-daddy
55 notes
·
View notes