digital--product · 1 year ago
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dolokhoded · 6 months ago
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me because i got the stare at a wall for five hours pick up a pen for three minutes get frustrated break something watch a youtube video and dissociate mental illness instead of the make paintings portraying your demons write poetry release a masterful debut album launching a ten year series about a fictional universe that parallels your inner struggles mental illness.
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twizzie-lairs · 8 months ago
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 13)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13
Part 13:
After practically being dragged by Vaggie back into the main lobby of the hotel with Alastor quietly humming behind the two of you, you were basically swarmed by Charlie, Angel, Husk and Nifty.
"WHERE WERE YOU? I was so scared!" Charlie barely manages to get out past the blubbering tears streaming down her face as she hugs you.
Angel examined your body with all of his arms, checking to make sure you were okay, "Geeze, toots, how'd you manage to survive that long against Smiles over there? I was sure you'd be dead meat!"
Husk gave you a glance up and down, "Glad you're alright. I'd hate to miss out on getting to know another drinking buddy." Husk glances over to Angel and grumbles under his breath, "You owe me $50."
"You were betting on if (y/n) was alive???" Vaggie groans, hands rubbing her face in exasperation.
Nifty is basically hyperventilating in your face, sniffing and examining your hair strand by strand, "Yup- still gross- EW!" Before she launches off your shoulders to go and do god knows what somewhere in some far corner of the hotel...
You let out a breathy chuckle, "I appreciate the concern... and the vote of confidence... Angel..." You give a sarcastic glare over in the spider's direction, earning a sheepish smile from Angel.
Taking Charlie's hands in your's, you take one of your hands to dry the tears from her eyes and say, "Charlie, you don't need to cry. You're such a sweet girl. I honestly can't thank you- and Vaggie-" you smile in Vaggie's direction before continuing, "- for saving my life and bringing me here to the Hazbin Hotel. I came here to find the love of my life- back from when I was alive. It's only been a few hours, yet you've already helped me fulfill the goal I've been trying to achieve for decades!"
Your words brought surprised looks upon Charlie, Angel, and Husk's faces.
Husk nearly dropped the glasses he was cleaning, "Uh.. Say what now?"
"Excuse me, but did you just say you found the love of your life... from when you were alive?? Who the hell-" Angel started to say before Alastor walked over put his hand on your shoulder,.
"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me." Husk interrupted Angel's sentence with the most deadpan yet exasperated voice he could muster.
"Wait... you mean... Freaky face has a fuckin' WIFE???" Angel yelled out in disbelief. "What the actual FUCK? I didn't think that guy was capable of love!"
"Ahem." Static noises became louder as Alastor glared in Angel's direction.
"Alright, alright, jesus, sorry! Husk, I need a drink."
"Already on it."
Meanwhile, Charlie just stood there as still as a statue from the shock. Until she suddenly started chuckling slowly, "Ah ha... hahaha... wait... really?" She brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to hide the huge grin that was slowly forming on her face.
You nodded, "Well, not quite wife haha... I was killed before he could propose..."
"Geeze, talk about grim.."
"Why, I do say that is quite enough from the peanut gallery!" Alastor piped up, menacingly twisting his head towards the bar where Angel and Husk were.
Charlie turned to Alastor, "How come you never mentioned you had someone special before?"
"Well my dear Charlie, I am a very private person, I do not often willingly divulge personal information about myself or my life back when I was alive."
"Oh." Charlie looked down at the ground dejectedly, thinking she was closer to Alastor than to be kept at such length still.
You patted Charlie's head, "Don't worry- I'll be happy to chat with you anytime! Though I don't know if you'll have fun hearing how I killed my husband- er- before Alastor. Maybe I'll have to settle for stories about my art career!" You chuckle smiling at her.
"Jesus, she IS crazy after all."
"Takes crazy to know crazy"
"Oh, shut up."
Charlie gasps, suddenly perking up, "Oh.. MY... GOSH!! Does this mean we get to host the very first wedding at our hotel??" She squeals and gives both you and Alastor the puppy-eye look.
You link your arm through Alastor's and look up at him with an inquisitive look.
"Ahaha! Why, if it is what my dear (y/n) desires, then that is what we shall do!"
You grin and bring your left hand up and hold it out to Charlie, "We already have the rings!"
Charlie blinks blankly and her mouth hangs open holding your hand to examine the ring on your hand. Vaggie leans over to look as well, "I honestly don't know I missed that..."
After staring at the ring for a while, Charlie smacks Vaggie's arm a bunch before squeezing her in a big embrace- the sounds of her squealing excitedly filled the room.
"WE HAVE A WEDDING TO PLAN!!!!!"
-> Part 14 - Final
Tag List:
@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters @galaxywing-has-adhd @ggyalruu @trashbin-nie @fudosl @night-shadowblood-writes2 @memospacexx @yuraaahs @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @ghostdoodlen @moschinski @cannibalcoyote @missam @reader3 @yourworstgf @justaproudslytherpuff @milkspong3 @xdolls-crownx @1potato2rulethemall @1rxsemary1 @xxcrispxx @zardward @robin-the-enby @mylenapony11 @silvermoondarksky @bootylimpics @amarokofficial @euphoricaphrodite @blueyobsessedgirly @need-a-therapist @knifukiller @huayan @hwrimonsjer @no1sillybilly @kimmikreates @icarus-has-falllen @watchinthestarz @lady-lik3r @yunxi-11085 @luzzbuzz @tsukilover11 @plntmxrss @houmi @demoarah @papas-ghoulette @trashbin-nie @d-darlingyourbleeding @hallothankmas
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hightowered · 6 months ago
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and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.
it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.
the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.
and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.
"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.
anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.
because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.
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the-90s-music-colosseum · 11 months ago
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Quarterfinals, Match 2
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expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)
Lauryn Hill:
"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"
"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."
"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."
"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"
Damon Albarn:
"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."
"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."
"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."
"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."
"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"
"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"
"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"
"THE MAIN BLUR"
"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."
"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."
"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."
"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."
"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."
"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."
"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."
"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."
"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"
"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."
"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."
"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"
"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."
"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"
"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."
"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"
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seat-safety-switch · 9 months ago
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One of my more accomplished friends is an MRI operator. When we first got talking about what we did for a living, I didn't get very interested. Now, don't think I'm some kind of elitist snob. My career (freelance journalist/greasy dirtbag) is a laugh-a-minute thrill ride, where you're as likely to get hunted down by friends of corrupt small government as you are to throw up in the back of a diesel-swapped Geo Metro being used to chase cows back into the paddock. It's set the bar very, very high.
By comparison, MRIs are boring healthcare stuff, meant for taking extremely high-quality pictures of people's junk all day long. Those pictures are then viewed by doctors, who will sneer at those people for not eating enough cauliflower. Just an absolute snore, which although involving a cool machine that's very loud, didn't fascinate me in the least.
That is, until they mentioned The Quench. In case you're unfamiliar, MRI machines operate on the principles of magnetism (that's the "M.") Big-ass magnets are used to send pulses throughout the machine, and those pulses are inconveniently blocked by chunks of your body standing in the way. By recording how irritated those magnets are, we can figure out what's going on inside your shit. Of course, you need big, big magnets for this, you're not running down to the grocery store and diagnosing a brain misfire using that cute little toddler-art-retainer shaped like a frog.
Sometimes, when shit really goes wrong, you need to stop the magnetism in a hurry. Maybe a patient walked in with a fully loaded firearm, and the magnets are now using it to shoot the inside of the machine. Perhaps you just decided that you would like to end your career. Either way, hitting the "quench" button douses those magnets with several hundred thousand dollars' worth of liquid helium, which makes them stop doing magnet-y things and start racking up billable hours for the MRI maintenance guy. This kind of highly expensive mechanical failure is my jam, and I asked immediately where I could get me some of those quenched-up magnets. Surely, they wouldn't reuse anything they've beaten up in this way?
My so-called friend figured out what I was up to, and clammed up almost immediately. Almost. He gave me just enough information for my inquisitive journalistic mind to figure out that they just chuck these big-ass magnets into the dumpster out back of the hospital, and someone with an enterprising enough mindset could then un-chuck them into the back of, say, a U-Haul van with the license plate removed after being careful to avoid all the security cameras along the way. Not that I would do such a thing, especially because it involves driving through a particularly weak chain-link fence near the seniors' centre.
Coincidentally, are you coming to my unveiling of my new magnetic-levitation Volare-launching system this weekend? I promise to listen very intently to whatever bullshit you say about your boring job, you'll love it. The Mayor is gonna be there, cut the ribbon and everything. Shit. Siri, remind me to get plastic scissors for The Mayor.
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egcdeath · 4 months ago
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sealing the deal
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pairing: patrick zweig x reader
summary: you and patrick make a few unique business proposals to each other.
word count: 7k
warnings: succession au – tomshiv dynamic (pre-failmarriage), proposals (business and romantic), fluff, a little angst, mentions of a dad being very sick/almost dying, lots of exposition/background on the relationship, art cameo, a little domesticity, established relationship
author’s note: you don’t have to know anything about succession to enjoy this fic! i’ll explain everything that you need to know. if you’re a diehard succession fan i can’t promise that everything will be completely faithful to the source material but it definitely takes a lot of inspiration from tom and shiv’s dynamic.
i wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my succession anon who gave me so much help and guidance for this fic and basically ended up being my co-author for this fic! i hope you all enjoy :)
It wasn’t always easy loving the youngest son of the owner of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate. 
In fact, most of the time, it was quite the opposite. 
Even without Patrick working in his family’s business, it always felt a little bit like you were in a competition for brain space and time with his family and career, and you were losing. Badly. 
You weren’t exactly sure that you knew what you signed up for when you first met Patrick—connected to each other by a mutual friend you went to business school with, whom you’d begged to try to set you two up for career advancement purposes more than anything else. 
“You know that guy you keep asking me about?” your friend asked you after taking a hefty sip from the drink the bartender just passed her. 
“Patrick Zweig?” you asked, not bothering to pretend like you didn’t know who she was talking about. 
“Yeah!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure where she was going with this subject, but you were intrigued by her mention of the man and her apparent entertainment at the situation. 
“What about him?” you asked, perversely curious as to why she was bringing him up now. 
“I invited him to come out with us tonight!” she laughed once more as she divulged this information, as if it wasn’t shocking news to you.  
“What? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me before!” you practically yelled at her over the sound of loud music and other bar patrons. You suddenly felt very self conscious. If you’d known you were going to meet Patrick Zweig tonight, you would’ve put yourself together, rather than coming straight from work to the bar. 
“I wanted to surprise you!” she continued with her giggling at a situation that you did not find nearly as humorous. “Oh my god. I wish you could see your face right now.”
“I hate you!” you laughed, thinking that maybe this was some sort of prank. “You’re joking, then?”
“No, he’s really coming. He just got back from D.C. and wanted to meet with me. I asked if my hot friend could come along and he was like, ‘Obviously!’”
You groaned aloud. This wasn’t how you intended to make your first impression on him.
“Okay, well, what’s his type?” you asked her, hoping to get a bit of insight before you were launched right into what might end up being your first date. You were sure that you would make a good impression if you showed up as you were, but you wanted to be better than good. You didn’t want to be just another forgettable notch on his bedpost.
“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a sip from her drink. “Hot? A nice ass? A little mean? Isn’t that every guy’s type?”
“You’re not taking this seriously enough for me,” you replied. You wanted to have a strategy going into this. You would’ve appreciated at least a small briefing before meeting someone so intimidating. 
“I am, you just check all the boxes already. Just be yourself and I’m sure things will work out fine,” she assured you. 
Her assurance was well warranted, considering that things worked out far better than fine. In fact, your friend was overdue for a fruit basket—one that you would be paying for with Patrick’s credit card as you sat in the dining room of your shared penthouse apartment, after you wrapped up a day of work in the skyscraper that was his father’s corporate headquarters. 
At the time, you had a slight idea of who he was, but you had an even better idea of who his family was. Anyone who owned a television would be familiar with his family’s corporation—from the causal channel surfers who passed one of their many news channels during their search for the newest episode of The Bachelor, to the thousands of people with their logo burned into their device screen from the hours they spent with their eyes locked on the 24-hour stream of borderline propaganda. 
Beyond his impressive family, you’d heard whispers and rumors about Patrick for a long time. Between headlines in gossip magazines and stories from your mutual friend, you learned that he’d entered the political world as an attempt to make a name for himself outside of his family name, but struggled to be taken seriously for many years due to the less than stellar reputation that came with being a Zweig.
Although, rumors about his career were just the tip of the iceberg. Gossip about his tumultuous relationships—if they could even be called that—and history of partying far too hard often ran wild, making you believe that your initial meetings with Patrick would be nothing more than a few hookups and sweet talking yourself into a new job. After all, there was no better pillow talk than an elevator pitch. 
At first, your plan seemed like it was right on track. You ended your first night together in the early morning, finding yourself in Patrick’s apartment for hours. Your night hadn’t really ever ended, with the two of you leaving the bar together, having some of the best sex of your life in a bed that felt a little bit like laying on a cloud, then proceeding to talk for hours until it was time for you to go back to work. You smiled to yourself as you sat in the backseat of Patrick’s car, exhausted from the long night and a little uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, but mostly enthusiastic after your surprisingly eventful night with the man. 
It was a strange turn of events from what you initially expected. While you couldn’t be too sure what you were getting yourself into when you learned you were being set up on a date, you assumed that Patrick would be like any other rich asshole you’d gone out on dates with, who got what they wanted from you, sent you off on your merry way, then never spoke to you again. You quickly discovered that he was unlike anyone you’d ever been with before. 
Patrick seemed to be full of surprises, and the fact that you were going on multiple dates with him in the first place was one of those very surprises. You hadn’t expected to go on any more than three dates before you asked about working for his family, securing yourself a job, then leaving him alone. 
What took you by even greater surprise were the dates themselves. What started as an intimate dinner in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city ended with you at a terrible 24-hour diner, treating Patrick to his first slice of cherry pie as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. 
Your subsequent dates went similarly, with the two of you talking endlessly about anything and everything. Patrick was someone full of surprises—he was far from the rich asshole you expected him to be, and more like a knowledgeable politics nerd with a lot of money. 
You talked for hours about big things, like why Patrick decided to pursue a career as a political strategist and what brought you to New York City, but you also found it easy to discuss small random things with him, spending an extended period of time discussing how you named your cat, and debating on the best restaurant in the city. 
You always thought of yourself as being somewhat agreeable and friendly when it came to conversation, but your discussions with Patrick took you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’d ever clicked with someone the way you clicked with him, and it made you as excited as it made you nervous. 
By the time you worked up the nerve to ask Patrick about working for his family, you were already beat to the punch. The two of you were tucked into the booth that you’d recently declared as yours in the same diner that you seemed to be spending all of your all-nighters in, reclining comfortably in the particularly uncomfortable seats. 
“Do you like the business side of things?” Patrick asked you, stirring a flattening Diet Coke with a straw. 
“It’s fun,” you dismissed. “It’s less fun going to work on a half-hour of sleep.”
“Shut up. You love it,” the man across from you laughed, an admittedly very handsome half-smile on his face. “I mean it though. Do you like what you’re doing?”
“It pays the bills, I guess. I like the work, but I’m not huge on the company. All the politics and the instability with layoffs lately… It isn’t exactly ideal.”
“Would you ever work for my family?” he asked. “I mean, you’re just wasting potential elsewhere. I really think they could use someone like you on their team.”
“Seriously?” you asked, partially surprised at the proposition, but mostly surprised that you weren’t the one to ask in the first place. Across the table, Patrick listened to you intently. “I mean, If they’d have me, I’d love to work for them.”
“My dad mentioned something about them looking for some new blood. I can put in a good word for you, if that sounds interesting to you.”
“Is this because I showed you the joys of a slice of diner cherry pie?” you joked, trying not to let on just how overjoyed you were about this opportunity. 
“You got me. And now that you mention it, we should probably order another slice,” he suggested, going along with your joke. “You’re smart and you clearly know your shit. Besides, I’m mostly doing it for myself. It’ll be nice to have someone around at company Christmas parties who can actually keep up with me.”
“Well, thank you,” you replied calmly, though you were doing somersaults in your mind. “I look forward to drinking eggnog and singing Mariah Carey songs with you.”
In retrospect, you recognized this action as the first of his many wordless declarations of love. You later learned that Patrick did everything he could to avoid talking business with his family, as it was clearly a sore spot for everyone involved. Realizing that he’d gone out of his way to get you a job had been an even more kind gesture than you knew at the time. 
While you initially expected your fling to taper off after Patrick fulfilled his end of the business deal he didn’t even know he was facilitating, your relationship did nothing of the sort. In fact, his favor seemed to have the opposite effect on your bond. 
Before you knew it, the two of you were courting each other like lovesick Jane Austen protagonists. In another shocking turn of events, Patrick ordered flowers to your doorstep each morning and took you on lavish dates, while you began to take four-hour long train rides to and from D.C. each weekend to visit him, and frequently sent him rambling love letters. 
While you hadn’t expected for your relationship to unfold the way that it did, you genuinely loved Patrick. You loved the way his eyes crinkled when you told him something stupid that he’d laugh at, or how he leaned in to whisper something judgmental in your ear about someone you mutually disliked during family events. You loved the way his hand felt in yours and the way his mind worked, which he frequently displayed to you while discussing his latest political strategy. You even loved when he minced words to describe how he felt about you, knowing that though the word ‘love’ might never leave his lips, his actions spoke far louder than his voice ever could. 
It just so happened that you loved his proximity to power, too. 
While his money and power might have piqued your interest initially, it didn’t change the fact that the two of you quickly clicked. You had a natural chemistry, with you matching Patrick’s flirty words and actions with ease. It also just so happened that you entered each other's lives at the perfect time, with you in dire need of a career upgrade, and Patrick in need of someone unafraid to show him more affection and care than he was willing to give. 
Though he wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, you quickly became a tenured professor in Patrick-ology. You were certain that this played a role in why Patrick liked you so much in the first place—being somewhat emotionally stunted, he needed someone who could understand his thoughts without him having to explicitly say every detail, and you did exactly that. 
This skill worked out surprisingly well for you. You gave him the love and understanding that he’d been looking for and missing for all of his adult life, and you got to reap the benefits that came with being in a relationship with someone in one of the most powerful families in the world. 
Despite your more humble beginnings, you quickly became familiar with luxurious items and activities. You also quickly learned that no matter how prepared you thought you were for that level of wealth—you weren’t. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times your unfamiliarity with certain norms left you as the laughing stock of the family. 
But it wasn’t all corner offices in skyscrapers and helicopter rides. During the honeymoon phase of your relationship, it certainly felt like it, but the cracks in your foundation became more and more evident every day. 
The thing was, as much as you two cared about each other, there was a family shaped shadow that loomed over everything that you did. It was clear that you were an outsider in Patrick’s family. Coming from an upper-middle class Midwestern background, you were often made to feel like you were a stupid gold-digger, only staying around your boyfriend for power, rather than love. At times, you wondered if his family knew what love was at all. 
The love, or lack thereof in Patrick’s family was what shocked you most of all. It was no secret that his father was unnecessarily cruel to all of his children, but particularly to his siblings trying to work their way into more serious positions in the company. Patrick somehow managed to dodge that particular flavor of cruelty, with him very obviously being his father’s favorite and working outside of the family business, but the emotional scars his father left still lingered. 
But his father’s presence didn’t just loom over him, it was beginning to loom over you, too. Not only in the extreme intimidation you felt when having to interact with him, but in the small acts of callousness Patrick showed you throughout the course of your relationship. 
It began as small things, things that bothered you less the more you got used to them. Like how he always seemed to unconsciously belittle your work, not even bothering to seem interested in the recaps you gave of your day before he launched into a story of his own about the candidate he was working with. Though you tried your hardest to fight through your smaller pet peeves with him, Patrick’s inability to be straightforward about his emotions felt like the cherry on top of an already painful sundae.
Regardless of all of the flaws, bumps, and roadblocks in your relationship, you promised to yourself that you would be in Patrick’s corner, no matter how ugly things got or how poorly he treated you. Not only out of your own self-interest, but out of your love for the man, and the knowledge of how difficult his upbringing made certain things for him. 
Which was why when you got the call from Patrick that something had gone terribly wrong with his father while coming back from his birthday celebration, you didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital, encouraging your driver to speed all the way to the building. 
When you arrived, he and his siblings were in disarray in a way you’d never seen before. His father, who was typically a presence that towered over everyone in the room, was reduced to an old man hooked up to a number of machines. His older sisters, who were always either waiting for the moment to swoop in and make a crude joke or waiting in the wings to discuss the next business strategy, paced back and forth endlessly, clearly feeling the pressure of their sick father.
Patrick sat alone on an uncomfortable chair, peering helplessly into the observation room. It was rare for you to see him with his feelings written so openly across his face, even after years of being in a relationship with him. That concerned you.
You made quick work of walking over to Patrick, whose tensed-up shoulders slightly dropped as you took a seat next to him. Though he wouldn’t ever tell you this, you knew that your presence made him feel more supported and a little more safe, though you being or not being in the hospital clearly wouldn’t have an impact on if his father lived or died. 
“Hey,” he greeted you, immediately squeezing your hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said weakly, as if he was fighting off a new round of tears. In that moment, you so desperately wanted to take some of his emotions for yourself, knowing that Patrick hated feeling any feeling, let alone such negative feelings to such a serious degree. 
“Of course, honey,” you reassured him, running what you hoped would be a grounding hand up and down his arm. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water? A snack? I saw that burger place you like on my way over.”
“No, nothing right now,” he sighed. You inspected him cautiously, knowing that he wasn’t exactly one to always say what he meant. “Really,” he assured you, though you didn’t completely buy it. 
Since he wasn’t in the mood for more material items, you decided that the best course of action was a little affection. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of receiving affection in front of his family, but you figured that in a time where he was uncertain if his father would live or die, he would appreciate a little outward support. 
You laid your head on his shoulder and angled your body closer to his. Not expecting any response, you were surprised when Patrick kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’d be in trouble if someone overheard him. 
You held his hand as the two of you sat for hours, only getting up to stretch your legs or take phone calls from friends with insight on other high-end medical facilities that might be able to better accommodate Patrick’s father. 
You did your best to give Patrick his space when he needed it, as he floated between two of his siblings—one of which was focused mainly on the future of the company, and the other in a state of denial about the state of her father—then back to you when he could no longer stand the chaos of his sisters. 
It was a stressful scene, and one that was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who went back and forth between wanting to be glued at your hip, and wanting to be left completely alone. You’d seen Patrick stressed in the past, with him chatting your ear off as he waited for his candidate’s election results, or as he prepared to give a speech at an event, but you’d never seen him like this. 
He almost seemed fragile, like one wrong word or action might break him. It frightened you to see him in such a state. Again, you lamented not being able to take some of his pain for yourself. 
In the time that you waited without any word from any doctors, a few gears began to turn in your mind. Life was so fleeting, which was proven by Patrick’s mighty father falling so seemingly easily. Really, it could’ve been any of you sitting on that table with tubes and monitors attached to you. If it were Patrick who was sitting on that gurney, you would be an absolute wreck. If he somehow died, you also wouldn’t technically be a widow, despite your long-term relationship with the man. 
All of it made you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and propose to Patrick.
Sure, it wasn’t the best timing ever. Sure, you’d always imagined yourself being on the receiving end of a grand proposal, especially from someone like Patrick. But maybe he would appreciate the gesture—giving him a distraction to take away some of his pain, and giving him one final grand milestone with you while his dad was still alive. 
To a lesser extent, being married would provide you with certain protections you didn’t have while you were only his long-term girlfriend. Obviously, you didn’t want to think of anything bad happening to your boyfriend, but accidents and tragedies could happen at any point, and it was better to be prepared than to be sorry. 
It felt right that you might be able to join his family during a time where he was losing a family member. Not only for his sake, but because losing their patriarch meant unprecedented instability in his family. You wanted to be sure of your spot amongst them, after you’d grown used to the privileges that came with being Patrick’s girlfriend. 
You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation onto you. It was no expensive piece of jewelry, and it certainly wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was incredibly meaningful to you—a symbol of your family, which was extremely important to you. Patrick knew just how much you valued the ring and exactly what it represented to you, so in turn, you hoped that if you gave it to him, he would understand how much he meant to you. 
Getting up from where you’d been sitting for far too long, you began to pace the hallways of the hospital, wondering about the timing of your now imminent proposal. As you shuffled through the sterile building, you surprised yourself as you came across your partner. 
“Patrick!” you said with a start after unexpectedly catching a glimpse of him. 
“Hey,” he greeted unenthusiastically before beginning to walk right past you. 
“Wait,” you grabbed onto his arm before he could fully walk away, encouraging him to look right at you. It was now or never, and the words were on the tip of your tongue. 
“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this right now,” he dismissed, his voice monotone and listless. 
“You do, though. Patrick, listen,” he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, but was prepared to listen to you anyway. You knew you only had a few seconds to pitch your proposition before you lost him, so you spat out your words rather than beating around the bush. “Let’s get married.”
“What?” he looked at you with brows drawn in confusion. It wasn’t exactly the ideal reaction to your proposal, but then again it wasn’t much of a proposal. “Right now?”
“Obviously not now, but… soon?” as you spoke, you began the process of slipping the ring off your middle finger and attempting to present it to him in the palm of your hand. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic or put together proposal, but it felt right to be offering him such a grand and personal gesture while everything else was going sideways in his life. 
“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I thought that maybe I could make things a little better with your dad and… I don’t know. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t want to wonder about what we could’ve been and-” you rambled on before you were interrupted with a sigh. 
“Honey, you can’t just make my dad dying better,” he rubbed his temple exasperatedly, then looked between you and the ring you were presenting him with. “If you wanted to make me feel better, you should’ve just brought me coffee.”
You frowned at him, knowing that you’d offered him that very thing earlier and he turned you down. You wondered if your communication would ever improve—or if it even needed to improve, since this proposal was going so poorly that you’d probably leave the hospital single. 
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you closed your palm and put your hand in the pocket of your jacket, fully prepared for Patrick to tell you to fuck all the way off. It had been stupid for you to think that Patrick would appreciate such a grand gesture during such a terrible time. 
“Wait,” Patrick stopped you, now reaching for your arm. “My answer isn’t a no, it’s just… I don’t want this to be the memory. Of course I’ll marry you.”
Doing all the work of getting your hand out of your pocket, he grabbed the ring you presented him with to further prove his words and slipped it on his ringer. It only fit halfway down his finger, but he kept it on regardless. 
“Really?” you said, suddenly perking up.
“Duh,” he replied, looking a little shy as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he briefly looked away from you, as if his feelings were so strong that he couldn’t even manage to look you in the eye. 
You couldn’t contain your excitement at his answer, jumping and squealing a little bit as you pulled him into an overly enthusiastic hug. You heard the familiar sound of Patrick laughing quietly in your ear as you squeezed him. Though he always seemed to hold back his emotions, you knew that he was just as excited as you were to be promised to one another.
You pulled him into a soft kiss, draping your arms around his neck, holding him as close as you could until he inevitably pushed you away. 
Patrick surprised you with how long he was willing to embrace you, clearly in need of a little bit of comfort after such an emotionally exhausting night. You surprised yourself when you ended up being the person to pull away. 
“Should we go check on our family?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement around finally being in. 
“I just need a second,” he told you, glancing down the hallway before pulling you into yet another embrace. He pressed his face into your hair, soothing himself with your scent and presence. You rubbed circles into his back and muttered something about him taking all the time he needed.
You were interrupted by one of Patrick’s sisters, whose voice called out your names down the hallway. “When you two are finished with your snuggle-fest, the doctor has news for us.”
“Wait, what?” Patrick pushed you away quickly, his tune changing in an instant.
“Good news, I think. But move your asses. C’mon,” she directed, already turning away and Patrick quickly following her. 
If you were experiencing an emotional rollercoaster, you couldn’t even begin to understand how Patrick was feeling. Finding out his dad was sick, being proposed to, and immediately hearing more news about his father in the span of just a few hours must’ve felt unreal. 
You sat quietly and observed from the sidelines as a doctor took them into their father’s room and filled in the siblings on the state of him. They all seemed to share a collective sigh of relief, and though you couldn’t hear the exact news from where you were sitting, you knew that it must’ve been good. 
When Patrick came back to you, he had a hint of a sad smile on his face. “Ready to go?” he asked you. 
He didn’t need you to ask twice. You were more than prepared to escape the too-bright lights, sickeningly sterile scent, and the feeling of sadness that seemed to be hanging in the air of the hospital. 
Your driver was a welcome sight, with him giving you a quiet greeting as the two of you got in the backseat of the car. As he drove, Patrick reached for your hand, which you gladly gave up to him. 
In the following minutes, Patrick crept over further into your space until he sat directly beside you, leaning his head on you with his eyes closed. The long day was surely taking its toll, with the anxiety of his dad being in such dire straits, and the excitement and confusion of you proposing to him. 
His sleep was well earned. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then closed your own eyes, letting the soft sound of the early morning city traffic lull you to sleep. 
In the following days, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with Patrick. At first, you chalked it up to nerves around his father’s health, but that didn’t seem to be it. Typically, when Patrick was really anxious about something, his silence on the elephant-sized topic gave him away. While you’d heard quite a bit about the state of his father from him—whether it was an update sent to him by his step-mother or an actual visit to the man—you hadn’t heard a peep about your engagement since the day after you got engaged. 
On the other hand, you were struggling to keep the news to yourself, despite the request of Patrick. You wanted to scream the announcement from the rooftops, but in the early morning after you returned from the hospital, Patrick made his position very clear: Wait a little while for things to blow over before you started telling people– your friends and family included. 
Despite the fact that he wore your ring every day since the day that you’d given it to him, something about his behavior told you that it was that very ring that was giving him so much internal conflict. 
In the past few years of knowing Patrick, you learned that he was a bit of a control freak. You wondered how out of control it made him feel for you to be the person to propose to him. Part of you wondered if you should’ve even proposed in the first place if it was going to be an issue. Maybe you should’ve let him do things on his own timeline, rather than making him feel nervous or insecure in your relationship.
But at the same time, Patrick initially seemed rather entertained by the idea of you getting married. In the morning after your engagement, he couldn’t stop referring to you as Mrs. Zweig. At the desk of your brand new office, given to you after a serious promotion, you found a box of expensive chocolates with a note fondly referring to you as his fiancé. As you laid next to him in bed that night, he pulled up the profiles of three separate wedding planners and asked you about your preference in people. 
It almost felt like his feelings on your engagement were constantly fluctuating between being excited to be with you forever, and being terrified of that very commitment. Things weren’t made any better by Patrick’s professional-level ability to dodge questions, especially questions related to how he genuinely felt. 
“C’mon, you know how I feel,” he replied to you after you directly asked him over breakfast. He lifted his mug casually, subconsciously putting space between the two of you. 
“Pat, I don’t. That’s why I asked,” you forced out a laugh, though the situation wasn’t exactly funny to you. If Patrick didn’t want to marry you, you didn’t want to force him to do so. 
“But you always know how I feel,” he said with a bit of a pout and a whine—what you called his ‘let me get away with it’ demeanor that he often used with his family—before setting down his coffee and standing up. 
“Not this time,” you explained, standing up as well and abandoning the plate of half-eaten eggs in front of you. 
“You’ll figure it out,” he dismissed your concerns and stepped close enough to you to hold your face in both of his hands. 
“Love you?” you asked, hoping that if he could confirm that at the very least, you might have a better understanding of what was going through his head. 
“Of course,” he said genuinely, though he didn’t offer you any parroting of those words. Instead, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and kissed one of them. “Have a good day at work, okay?” 
“Yeah. Thanks,” you tried not to look as annoyed as you actually felt as you made quick work of grabbing your work bag and leaving. You needed some time to make sense of it all. 
The situation only became more complicated as you sat down in a conference room, mentally preparing yourself to make your first big presentation as the newly vetted Head of Parks and Cruises division. You cared greatly about what your peers thought about you, so you couldn’t deny the nerves running through your veins. 
These nerves only increased when you caught a glimpse of Patrick from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the conference room, shaking hands with people on your floor and clearly making cordial small talk. 
You desperately hoped that he was there to wish you luck on your presentation, and not to pick your conversation from the morning back up. You bitterly thought about how he couldn’t have picked a worse time as he waved at you from the window. You stiffly waved back, not exactly in the mood to be interrupted right before a big presentation. 
“Hey, if I don’t make it back for whatever reason, you can do this presentation, right?” you asked quietly, leaning into your newly-hired assistant’s ear. 
“Wait, what?” he asked you, brows furrowing. “I don’t know, I haven’t practiced or anything, and-“
“Perfect,” you replied, not listening to a single word he was rambling out. “Just read off the slides. You’ll be okay.”
You didn’t bother staying to listen to Art ramble in your ear about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one presenting, and if he absolutely had to, he’d probably be fine. 
You shut the door behind you, politely waving at one of your co-workers as they entered the conference room. You made your way to Patrick and stood with your arms crossed against your chest, trying to strike a good balance between showing him how agitated you were, and not trying to further agitate your fiancé, who seemed to be in a particularly fragile mental state lately. 
“Hi honey, is anything important going on?” Patrick asked once you stood across from him. 
“Actually, yeah. Is there any way we could chat a little later? Like maybe an hour or two?” you suggested. “I can block some time off on my calendar for you and everything.”
“I’m sure whatever it is isn’t more important than this,” he glanced over at the conference room as he spoke to demonstrate his point. You wished you could explain to him how far that was from the truth.
“What is it?” you asked, your patience beginning to grow thin.
“You’ll have to see. Come with me?” he offered. 
“Patrick, I’m in the middle of a meeting!” you whisper-shouted, trying to keep your voice down and your body language mostly neutral, so your colleagues couldn’t observe how much you were freaking out as you talked to your partner. 
“It hasn’t started yet,” he dismissed casually. “They’ll be fine without you. I won’t be fine without you.”
You eyed him suspiciously. 
“Please,” he added, as if you’d ever be able to say no to him—though you were pretty tempted to do so. 
“Fine,” you gave in with a small, soft sigh. That didn’t deter Patrick at all, who seemed uncharacteristically excited as the two of you sat in the backseat of his car. 
“So where are we going? Or, what are we doing?” you asked, trying to ignore the terrible feeling in your gut that you felt about leaving your meeting. 
“It’s a surprise,” Patrick said coyly. “It’ll be more fun than that meeting, though.”
“I’m sure,” you replied, looking out the window. You hoped that whatever romantic gesture Patrick planned would be worth losing the respect of all of your peers. You wondered what you could tell them that would make your absence seem acceptable. Family emergency? It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth either. 
When your ride stopped and you stepped out of the vehicle, you were surprised to find yourself at the diner that you spent the majority of your first few dates at, splitting pieces of pie and talking each other’s ears off for hours. 
“Craving some cherry pie?” you asked him curiously. Obviously, this seemed like a task he could’ve handled on his own, coming to the diner himself or having his driver buy and deliver him a whole pie, but you figured that maybe he was simply in the mood for some nostalgic comfort. In the midst of such chaos, you would be happy to give that to him. 
“It’s been too long,” he shrugged before grabbing your hand.
Patrick led you to the booth that you declared as yours all those years ago, and began to chat your ear off like normal. While you wanted to think about work, it was surprisingly easy to forget about the real world when you were in such a nostalgic place with him. 
The two of you ordered your old usual order, only enhancing the feeling of nostalgia as you shared a plate of painfully average pancakes and a slice of cherry pie.
“Ew, what is that?” you laughed after you bit into something hard and gross. “This fucking place,” you muttered, looking for a napkin that you could spit out whatever it was that you almost just consumed. 
When you glanced down at the napkin, you were shocked to find what looked like a metal ring covered in cherry syrup. “Oh shit. Do you think this belonged to someone?” 
Once you looked up, you were shocked to find Patrick holding a black velvet box, one that you’d seen before nearly a year ago as you deep-cleaned your shared bedroom, one that you chalked up as a gift for his mother or a friend. 
“Patrick?” you asked, clearly confused. He parroted your name right back to you and opened up the box, showing you one of the most beautiful rings you ever laid your eyes on. 
Suddenly, it made sense why he asked you to come out with him, interrupting you in the middle of the day to take you to a diner where you shared so many memories. Sure, he could’ve waited until you got off work, but you figured he was thinking about your conversation from the morning and wanted to do something that would show you how much he truly cared about you. He’d always been better at bigger gestures than verbally sharing his feelings, so part of you remained unsurprised. 
“I first fell in love with you here, so it only felt right to bring you back here to ask you to marry me?” he explained, not breaking eye contact with you. He was never one for a soapbox when it came to sharing his feelings, so his proposal was short and straight to the point. Though, you wondered if he had more words prepared that he simply couldn’t get out. Based on the speed of his leg bouncing under the table, you knew that Patrick was nervous out of his mind—despite him already knowing what your answer was. 
You recalled what Patrick told you in the hospital about not wanting your proposal to be the memory—the memory you told others about when you shared the news, or fondly recalled to your kids in ten years when you reminisced on your love story. 
If accepting his proposal now, and acting like his proposal was the only proposal made him feel better, you didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t fully lean into it.
“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, genuinely being surprised at the offer, but playing up your excitement for the sake of your nervous fiancé. “Of course I’ll marry you, Pat.”
Patrick broke into a toothy grin, his excitement contagious to you. “Give me your hand,” he directed, taking the ring out of the box. 
He slipped the ring onto your finger, and it somehow looked even better on your finger than it did in the box. You looked at it in amazement curling and uncurling your hand to look at the ring from all of its angles. 
“It’s gorgeous, Patrick. Thank you,” you told him earnestly as you looked from your hand to him. You weren’t surprised by the quality of the ring or even that he found something that you liked so much. Growing up with lavish gifts constantly being given as an expression of ‘love’ made Patrick pretty damn good at giving you gifts. As for the other expressions of love… he wasn’t the best. But he was very obviously trying his best for you, and you loved that about him. 
In some ways, your proposals felt like the perfect encapsulation of your roles in your relationship. While you offered Patrick a ring with little monetary, but high emotional value, he gave you a ring that was probably more expensive than you could ever fathom, that didn’t have the same emotional ties that your family heirloom of a ring did. 
Beyond the appearance or symbolism behind your rings, and despite your very different proposals, you were ecstatic to be engaged to Patrick. It only felt right that after years of loving the man, you two were finally making things official in the legal sense. 
As you peered at your shyly smiling fiancé, you couldn’t help but break out into a grin yourself. You underestimated just how exciting it would be for you to be starting a new chapter of your relationship. 
308 notes · View notes
bippiti · 8 months ago
Text
catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader
after the release of your new album, life has been hectic as you've been running around doing shows. only problem is you seem to have only one person on your mind. little do you know he's having the same issue
an part two! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!
if you want a visual guide for the band .
part one next part
tags @bloodyymaryyy @guiseppetsunoda @maxverstappendefender @charizznorizz
yourig
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by king, charles_leclerc and 42,836,364 others
yourig thanks for coming out london! nyc see you soon x
view comments
user ughh i wish i couldve come :((
yourig next time lovee💜
user sounded so good
user anyone else gonna talk about the album afterparty???
user who cares bro😭 theyre adults and tbh they would be a power couple
user right?! ive been thinking the same thing, shes not a good influence on him
user im sorry do yk y/n??? how would u know that lmfao
king looking good!
liked by yourig
user where is the fit from???
user i think vivienne westwood!
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you sighed, scrolling through your comments. it had been almost a month after your albums release, and some people still were bringing up the hug with charles. i mean, seriously it was just a hug. it wasn't like you guys had made out or anything.
both your label and ferrari were sponsored by celsius, and your management had met with one of ferraris pr heads. they had agreed to work together to promote the new album, and had picked charles because he was a fan of your music.
you clicked instantly on the first day of set, but it also helped that you spoke fluent french (you had an obsession with indila when you were younger and forced yourself to learn it) the lack of a language barrier, coupled with the fact that you guys had similar interests made it inevitable that you both would become friends.
after the album launch party, you were exhausted. you had woken up at 4am for promo shoots, and had been running around all day before singing your whole album (which was around an hour long) to the attendees. it was fun, and you wouldnt trade your career for the whole world, but man you were tired.
as you were heading out, you spotted charles and you both stopped to talk
"tu as bien fait là-dedans" he said, smiling as he pushed his hands into his pockets (you did good in there)
"merci! les heures de pratique m’ont aidé. je pense que je pourrais oublier les paroles si j’essayais" you smile as he laughed (thanks! the hours of practice helped. i dont think i could forget the lyrics if i tried)
"en pratiquant son art on devient artisan" (practice makes perfect)
you nod, turning as you hear your bandmate siobahn call for you
you look back to him, saying your goodbyes and quickly hugging him before running after her.
that was it. just a friendly hug. it's not like he liked you, and if he knew you liked him, you doubt he would still be friends with you.
-
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourig, pierregasly and 305,387 others
charles_leclerc i won. maybe next time @/pierregasly 😘
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user just realized pierre had a chance to fork the king and the rook in
user not y/n liking this...
user so cute😍
pierregasly i almost had it
charles_leclerc of course you did
user my fav french men
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-
after having checkmate charles sat back, smiling smugly as he looked at pierre try and fail to make a move. giving up, he raised his hands in defeat.
"quand vais-je jamais te battre?" he said sighing as he chuckled (when will i ever beat you)
"peut-être dans une autre vie" (maybe in another life)
scoffing, pierre changed the subject.
"so i heard you're with some rockstar these days"
"i most definitley am not"
"sure, sure. you might not be dating her but i can tell you like her"
charles paused, having a mini crisis. ok. so maybe he did like you. he couldn't help it, honestly. throughout filming ,and even after he had grown to really admire you. not only just as an artist, but as a person as well. he honestly hoped you'd be able to meet up afterwards, but he hasnt been able to see you since. between his preseason training and your concerts, you both are rarely free, let alone in the same country.
he told all of this to pierre, who listened quietly, nodding along before telling him his masterplan. he was gonna help him out, what kindve friend would he be if he didnt?
-
hearing the notification sound go off on your phone, you picked it up. your eyebrows raised as you read it
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part 3??
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ryanguzmansource · 1 month ago
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September 27, 2024
Ryan Guzman is currently filming his next thriller: Midnight and, in his talk with Xmag, he takes a tour of his professional career. Despite his current international projection as an actor, Ryan Guzman did not plan to dedicate himself to acting at first. The American actor and model began to get interested in mixed martial arts when he was only seven years old and, after winning his first black belt when he was ten, he was a mixed martial arts fighter in Sacramento until 2010. A shoulder injury prevented him from continuing with his dream and he redirected his career working as a model in various magazines and brands such as Abercrombie & Fitch, Affliction and Reebok. Everything completely changed when he got his first starring role in Step Up: Revolution. “It changed the direction of my life. It was as if I was launching myself into a world that I had only seen in the distance.” The dance franchise was an international success and Ryan tells us about the process he followed for the films, which, according to him, has always been the same over the years. “I try hard at something new without fear of failure. I do it this way because I know that I can fail at the beginning of anything I try. The goal is to learn from my failures and be open to new ideas when it comes to acquiring and perfecting a skill.”
His career as an actor continued in 2015 with the psychological thriller The Boy Next Door, which as Ryan explains, gave him "an invaluable perspective on the business side of the entertainment industry.” In the film, he shared the limelight with Jennifer Lopez and Ryan tells us about his experience working on the film and what it was like working with her. "Jennifer's life is something that most people won't be able to comprehend because it involves A LOT. She's a superstar. He has a million things going on at the same time. I had a great time collaborating with her and the director, Rob. They both made me feel very comfortable. It was so much fun playing the bad boy!” From a psychological drama about a woman who falls in love with her younger neighbor, Ryan jumped to play Eddie Diaz in the police drama series 9-1-1, which tells the story of a Los Angeles rescue group willing to attend to any emergency. The series underwent a big change after its transition from the FOX network to ABC and Ryan explains how that has affected his character. "Eddie's character has evolved a lot since his introduction into the 9-1-1 universe. As in any great evolution, destruction must occur in order to rebuild something new. The transition from FOX to ABC came at a perfect time for my character and I was able to represent that evolution through destruction just before another defining event in Eddie's life. Season eight is about Eddie making peace with his demons and finding self-love.” Being a series that deals with extreme and challenging situations, Ryan describes how he prepared physically and psychologically for those moments. "Empathy is the key. I draw from what I've experienced and my understanding of it; then I use the truth of those encounters to connect with the character. As for my physical fitness, I keep practicing martial arts." Recently, one of his latest projects has been the fictional comedy The Present, starring Isla Fisher and Greg Kinnear. Ryan explains that the possibility of working with these two actors was one of the reasons I chose this film. “The moment I saw that Isla Fisher and Greg Kinnear were involved in the film, I joined the project. These are two actors I've always wanted to collaborate with. Working with Isla was a dream, she gave me a lot of love and knowledge and Greg is someone who I have always enjoyed watching perform. Also, the theme resonated deeply with me, as I was going through a divorce at the time, which made the story especially relatable.”
Right now, the American actor is involved in the filming of the thriller Midnight. "I received the script from writer Lamont Magee and when he asked me if I would be interested in one of the roles opposite Rosario Dawson, he didn't have to say much more to capture my interest. 'Midnight' was an opportunity to show action in a way that I haven't been able to do as much as I would like as an actor.” According to Ryan, the thriller promises to be an intriguing story and one that will surprise the spectators. "I think seeing Rosario Dawson come face to face with Mila Jovovich is intriguing enough, but then you add the layers of her sister's character, played by Alexandra Shipp and the truth is that the audience is about to discover a lot of twists and surprises.” As immersed as he is in his work, Ryan ends the interview by expressing how grateful he feels to have a community of fans and followers who have always been supporting him. “I cannot fully express the depth of my gratitude to those who have found my work entertaining and have continued to support my career over the years. THANK YOU!”
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overtrred28 · 11 months ago
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Gnomeo and Juliet | alanna kennedy x reader
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Summary; Two players steal each other's hearts and keep it from everyone because they know how controversial their relationship could be to their club’s rivalry. OR Y/N and Alanna soft launching their relationship over time until they decide to share it. *Features social media posts.*
Pairings; Alanna Kennedy x Manchester United reader
Words; 2.2k
Warnings; swearing (i think that's it)
A/N; i literally love alanna so much and don't think there are enough posts about her so naturally i write one. i just thought this was cute and different from a chealse v arsenal rivalry (though i really love those). enjoy and please give it some love and feedback xx
Lioness star Y/N Y/L/N set to leave her club of four years, Brighton & Hove Albion W.F.C, and join Manchester United W.F.C on a two year contract at the beginning of the 2023/2024 season. 
You had really valued your time at Brighton, starting your senior career there and blossoming into a strong forward for both the club and the England Senior Women’s team, better known as The Lionesses. 
But when the offer from Manchester United came in at the end of last season, you knew it was the right move. Leaving the team you had come to know and love was tough to say the least but the adventure before you sounded a lot more exciting. So during the break before pre-season began, you made the move to Manchester and took a few days to settle into your new home and surroundings. 
Manchester was very different from Brighton; no beach and much bigger city life, but it was a good different. You had found that everything in Manchester was so much closer, and in great reach of your new club and housing. 
You had officially settled into your new home, very quickly making it feel just like your last one, then decided to go exploring through the city. The first thing a person would normally do would probably be going shopping or searching for a new café to become the regular, but you had spotted the Manchester Art Gallery and decided to go in. 
It was quiet, as expected for midday on a Wednesday when most people were at work, but you found it peaceful. It was a break from the regular hustle and bustle of your regular life as a professional footballer. 
It wasn’t until a particular painting caught your eyes that you realised someone else was in there, because you quite literally walked into them. 
“Shit. I’m so sorry.” You apologised quickly to the taller person, picking up their phone you had knocked out of their hand, from the floor. “Here…” Your voice trailed off as you met bright blue eyes while handing them their phone.
“It’s all good, thank you.” The woman met your eyes and she also felt the world pause around her, you were no longer in the gallery but just in a moment of time with each other. 
“Sorry the painting distracted me.” You snapped out of your trance and nodded to the painting on the wall; the story of Romeo and Juliet portrayed on a large canvas. 
“Well it is quite captivating.” Alanna spoke, still looking at you, now at the side of your face as you looked at the painting. 
“It is.” Your eyes fell back to hers and realised she was still staring at you, a slight blush rose to your cheeks, both smiling at each other. “Hi.” You extended your hand out, indicating a handshake. 
“Hi.” She laughed at your chivalry for a second before shaking your hand. “Nice to meet you.” She spoke softly in the quiet gallery.
“You too.” You smiled up at her, quite literally encapsulated by her. 
That was three weeks ago before you decided to get coffee after finishing a self led tour of the gallery, then the conversation kept going and you ended up at dinner together, continuing to learn about one another until the night ended. 
What you didn’t seem to bring up was that you both knew who each other were, but there was a mutual agreement that it didn’t matter. You weren’t professional footballers who had gone up against multiple times in the past at both national and club level, you were just two people who met and wanted to get to know each other. 
Now you were both deep into pre pre-season, you at Man United, her at Man City, and there wasn’t as much time to meet up for fun dates every night, now relying on text messages and late night calls before bed to catch up. 
The first kiss took a while to get to, but boy was it worth it. 
You had both decided to keep whatever this was between the two of you, soaking in the quiet moments shared in one anothers apartments and over long phone calls. It was still labelled a friendship, you both knew you wanted more, both scared of what the other might say if you revealed your feelings. But when you both had a free long weekend, you decided to take Alanna down to Brighton and show her your old home, soaking in the last of the warm weather before winter began to creep in. 
It was the best decision you could have made, relishing in being able to spend time together away from your normal lives. You had rented a small air bnb right near the beach, enjoying the solitude together as you cooked together and watched the sun rise and set each day by the ocean. 
It was on the second night after dinner that she finally made her move, unable to swallow the feelings bubbling inside her. You sat on the beach alone as you waited for Alanna to join, wrapping your arms around yourself to shelter from the cool breeze. 
A blanket had been wrapped around your shoulders and a warm body nuzzled into your side, a small smile on your face as you rested your head on her shoulder, Alanna looking down at you as you watched the waves crash. No words were said for what felt like ages, the only sounds being the waves and the seagulls heading off to bed. 
“Y/N.” Alanna suddenly spoke, a thick Aussie accent breaking the silence. 
“Hmmm.” You hummed in response, keeping your head in its place. 
“I want more than this.” Her statement made you move your head, turning it to meet her blue eyes. 
“More?” You spoke softly. 
“More.” She nodded with a small smile before she moved her hands from her legs, twisting to cup your face before moving closer. You thought she was going to kiss you straight away but her forehead came to rest on yours, both closing your eyes as you basked in the silence. 
“Just kiss me already.” You breathed out and she smiled before closing the gap, joining your lips in a strong kiss. Her hands cupped your face, yours held her waist before trailing up to meet her face. It was passionate but soft, saying so much without any words and your heart grew. 
y/n.y/l/n.. just posted a story
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alannakennedy just posted a story
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Since you were both heavily in the public eye, it was an easy decision for you both to keep this new found relationship to yourselves, not wanting to receive any unwanted attention from the media, fans and even your own teammates. 
You were able to keep it that way for a while, without you guys being on the same national team or at the same club keeping this secret relationship a secret was quite easy. And since no one thought you would even know each other personally, there were no fans sifting through evidence to put two and two together. Of course though, you both wanted to show each other off, you were so happy and so was Alanna, so maybe a soft launch would be best until you decided to go fully public. 
It started small.
y/n.y/l/n.. just posted a story
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alannakennedy made a post
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alanna kennedy almost as good as home
y/n.y/l/n.. made a post
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y/n.y/l/n.. felt like a fairy tale
alannakennedy just posted a story
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Your teammates began to ask about the secretive posts, hammering you about it in the locker rooms at training, Alanna's friends and teammates doing the same.
“When are you going to tell us more about these mystery posts?” Mary had asked Alanna while she was tying her boots before training. Alanna paused for a second before sitting up and looking up at the other Australian. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alanna simply shrugged with a straight face before standing up and walking away. 
“Oi mate.” Ella Toone had caught your attention as you walked out to the carpark after a late friday night training session. You paused and turned around, waiting for her to catch up, instantly wrapping an arm around your shoulder as she met you. 
“What’s up?” You turned to her as you walked towards your cars.
“Few of us are going round Zelly’s to watch a movie, you in?” She asked with hopeful eyes. 
“Sorry love, got plans.” You apologised, knowing you had a certain blonde already waiting for you at your apartment.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with a possible mystery woman you refuse to tell us about, would it?” Ella asks with a suggestive smirk, nudging your shoulder as you remain stoic. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You simply shrugged and patted her shoulder as you let go of her, walking to your car door. “Goodnight Tooney.” You waved before getting in and racing home to Alanna, preparing for your own movie night of Gnomeo and Juliet and a weekend spent in each other's arms.
The day had come, the one you and Alanna refused to talk about until the night before.. It was the Manchester derby day. The day every City and United fan had waited for and the one you and Alanna dreaded. 
y/n.y/l/n.. made a post
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y/n.y/l/n.. Derby day. Let's bring it on home red's! ❤️
alannakennedy made a post
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alannakennedy The day we've all be waiting for. Come on blue! 💙
Sure you had come up against each other in the past at both club and national level, but you had yet to do it since being in a relationship together. So it was going to be different this time; harder. You both decided it would be best for your teams if you didn't interact with one another from the moment you joined your teams for the match, and until that final whistle blew.
The plan was going well during the first half of the match; Alanna had started with City in the defensive line and you were sitting on the bench waiting to get subbed on. Katie Zelem had secured the United side a goal through a penalty early on, but City fired back and took the lead 2-1 at halftime. 
You got subbed on for Nikita Parris at the very beginning of half time, taking her place as the left forward and a strong striker. Though this became a slight issue because of who was currently defending the City goal and in charge of blocking your shots at goal; your very own girlfriend. But in that moment you had to act like you didn’t know who she was on a personal level, right now you were just opposing players who both wanted their teams to win. 
It was hard for you both to act like that, stealing glances on the pitch, brushing past each other ever so slightly without anyone noticing too much. You had both been able to get away with this secret relationship so far because you’ve haven’t had to be in the same place yet, but maybe it was time for that to change. 
The final whistle blew and City had won 3-1, your side not being able to score any further goals despite your best efforts. You looked around at all your teammates, defeated looks all over as City celebrated together before exchanging handshakes with the other team. 
You and Alanna had purposefully left each other till last, waiting until you could be alone with each other in a busy and full stadium. You had finally found the blonde Australian and began walking towards her and she finally locked eyes with you. Seconds before you had very different expressions, one filled with happiness and one filled with disappointment. But as soon as you got closer the one expression you both shared was one filled with love, and your heart melted as she brought you straight into a hug rather than a friendly handshake. 
Her hands wrapped around your waist as her slightly taller frame leant down, your hands found their way around her neck before you buried your head in her neck. An instant feeling of warmth and security flowed through both of your bodies as you hugged, Alanna pressing a soft kiss to your neck as she buried her own face in your shoulder. 
Confused looks fell to both sets of teams at the interaction, at first because of the more than friendly hug and second because of the familiarity they could sense between the two of you. 
“I’m so proud of you.” You murmured, still holding tight around Alanna’s neck. 
“You played so well, it was a tough game.” She spoke back instantly, squeezing your waist before slowly pulling back to look at you. You smiled at her as you exited the hug, genuinely happy for her but still very upset your own team couldn’t secure the win like they wanted. 
“You should go celebrate.” You nodded to the City team who gathered in the middle, preparing for their post-match huddle, your team doing the same further down on the pitch, all players still watching the interaction with lost eyes.
“I’ll find you after and we’ll go home together.” Alanna nodded to you, looking down to your now interlocked hands, a small laugh leaving her lips. “This is going to be everywhere tonight.” She looked back up at you as a small smile grew on your face. 
“Definitely.” You laughed too. “Are you okay with that?” You raised a brow at her. 
“Yeah. I’m ready to show off my girl.” She winked playfully at you, now both of you laughing, shaking your head at her before playfully pushing her shoulder and walking over to your team. 
y/n.y/l/n.. made a post
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y/n.y/l/n.. the gnomeo to my juliet
tagged @alannakennedy
alannakennedy made a post
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alannakennedy my girl in red
tagged @y/n.y/l/n
THE END
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sports-on-sundays · 5 months ago
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hello hello, saw you were a bit bored apparently and had open requests soo…😛
how about a fic where gavi meets the reader during media day for the new kit launch, and as gavi doesn’t really like these events where cameras are, he’s a bit nervous hihi
the reader is the photographer or videographer and she’s shy too, but something between them sparkles🤭 they’re both too shy to talk but in the end gavi makes a move and he takes her on a date or something? just some cutesy fluff:) ty!💞
camera-shy / Pablo Gavi
Summary: Pablo x photographer!female!reader - Two shy people are drawn to each other.
Requested?: Yes!! Thank you lovely!
Author's Note: WHAT A CUTE IDEA! LOVE IT! 💞
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"Gavi- Can you look at the camera, please?" the young Spanish man is asked for about the millionth time.
"Hm?" he asks, and looks up once more at the camera.
You snap a few pictures as the PR person who had spoken before says, "Come on; relax your face a bit. Smile. Yes, good. But brighten your eyes, please-"
"How am I supposed to 'brighten my eyes'?" Pablo Gavi asks in confusion and slight exasperation.
It's been a long media day for everyone, but especially Gavi, you can tell. He's not the type that likes the being filmed.
In photography, one of the biggest obstacles are people who are just simply, naturally camera-shy.
And you can tell this footballer, with his big brown eyes, is one of those people. The way he's averting his eyes, getting distracted. His stiff smiles and awkward laughs.
He's a nightmare.
But you, unlike a lot of people with your trade you know, don't get as upset about it.
Because you're one hundred percent more camera shy than him.
Besides the fact that you love the art of it, that's why you became a photographer.
You always get to be the one behind the camera.
A famous footballer being camera shy, though? That doesn't work out as well.
Suddenly, the PR guys taps your shoulder, and asks you, "Don't you have any methods of making his... you know... Appearance, better?"
"S- Sorry?!" you ask softly. Yeah, you're not only camera-shy. You're just shy-shy.
"You know, making him smile bigger, or angles for him to look-"
Suddenly, he's interrupted by Pablo Gavi saying, "Stop bothering the photographer."
You look up in surprise, but quickly look away when your eyes meet Gavi's. You silently thank him, though, as the footballer continues, "There's nothing she can do." He clears his throat, taking a deep breath, and nods, opening his eyes, looking at the camera. "Better?"
"Oh, God, perfect," you murmur as he looks at the camera with a certain playful yet thoroughly serious glint in his eyes. You quick snap some photos.
Pablo will admit he hates PR, and he hates being on camera. As his career has progressed, it's gotten better, for sure. But some days? Some days, he just isn't in the mood to do it.
It's unfortunate that today is one of those days, and it's a whole day completely dedicated to media.
His brain is spinning with the dark room, screen behind him, flashing cameras, rambling managers, and-
And, well, with the pretty photographer.
She's cute, he thinks with a small, shy smile at the girl.
She thinks he's looking right at the camera, and snaps a picture of the little smile. Right after, the PR manager snaps, "Good smile, but put a bit more strength into it!"
What the hell is a 'strong' smile?!
Then, finally, after over two hours of snapping pictures, he's done. He sighs a huge sigh of relief. Apparently, 'that will have to be good enough,' as the PR manager says.
Right, then.
But suddenly, as Pablo is about to leave, a slight disappointment in his chest stops him.
The cute girl. That photographer, I might not see her again...
He looks back over his shoulder, watching as you pack up your camera carefully.
Oh, get over it, he thinks, shaking his head.
You're too awkward to actually talk to her anyway. Just leave it. She's so beautiful, she's probably taken already anyway.
You'll just make a fool of yourself, Pablo.
Suddenly, though, from across the room, you look up.
And your eyes meet.
Pablo can't look away. It's like there's a magnetic force, a spark, holding your gazes together in the air, across the room.
Pablo, it's no use, his anxious brain screams as his legs begin walking over to you. Give it up.
Too late now.
"H- Hey," he smiles when he reaches you.
You gulp. "Uh... Yes... What can I do for you, Gavi?"
Aw. Her voice is so soft, he thinks as he says, "I... I just wanted to thank you for being so patient with me today..."
"Oh," she smiles shyly. "Of course. It's my job."
He lingers, and says, swallowing, "What's your name?"
"Y/n Y/l/n," you smile softly, scratching the back of your neck nervously.
"Oh," he smiles. "Nice to meet you... Uh... so..." he gulps, before sort of blurting, "I was wondering... if, uh, I could have your number...? Maybe, if you're free tonight..."
Your eyes widen as your face flares up pink at the handsome football player's suggestion. "Are you- asking me out?" you breathe.
"I- uh, I mean, if- you know, if-"
"Yeah!" you giggle. "I mean, sure!" You, without thinking, grab a pen and his hand, before scribbling your number on his hand. "That- That way you won't forget it."
"Oh," he nods, loving the fleeting feeling of his hand in your softer, smaller one, for just a moment. "Yeah, sounds good!" he laughs. "We can text the details!"
"Uh, yeah, right!" you laugh awkwardly.
Your head spins as he walks off.
You sit across from Pablo Gavi, over dinner. "So, uh, Gavi-"
"You can call me Pablo," he says right away with a little smile.
"Oh... Okay... So... I'm, uh, sorry... I know I'm kind of awkward..."
He smiles, hastily resting his hand on top of yours. "No, it's fine. I am, too. I was almost too nervous to talk to you."
"Oh?" you laugh a bit. "And don't worry about the filming thing today... I'm actually pretty camera-shy myself, so I get how it is..."
"Oh, you are? That's funny, for a photographer."
You grin with a little giggle, "I always get to be the one behind the camera."
He smiles warmly, his eyes almost shining in a strangely dreamy way, for a girl he just met today, as he says, "You're really cute."
You flush pink. "Oh- Uh- Thank you. You, too..."
He gives a little adorable crooked smile. "Thanks, I guess."
Throughout the dinner, as you continue talking, your fingers slowly entwine with each other. Once you're both finished eating, you're tightly holding one another's hands.
"Thanks for... talking to me, even though we're both a bit hopelessly shy..."
He smiles. "It was worth it... So, would you maybe like to go out again...? I've had... a really nice time with you."
"For sure," you giggle as you stand up together. "I've had a great time, too."
Just as you're about to slip your hand away from his, he uses it to pull you to him, into a hug. You gasp a little by the sudden touch, but immediately lean into it, hugging him back.
You stand there together, for a few moments, arms wrapped around each other, before he whispers, "Thank God I got over my nervousness and just asked you today, because I have a feeling this little date is going to go places beyond what either of us can imagine."
And in that moment, you know, deep down inside, that he is completely correct.
And you smile big, because you can't wait!
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makingqueerhistory · 2 years ago
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Queer Book Recommendations
Every once in a while I like sharing some queer book recommendations on here as I read a lot and I get requests to share some of the books I love, so here we go! 
Tell Me I'm Worthless: Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends Ila and Hannah. Since then, things have not been going well. Alice is living a haunted existence, selling videos of herself cleaning for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. She hasn’t spoken to Ila since they went into the House. She hasn’t seen Hannah either.
Our Wives Under The Sea: Miri thinks she has got her wife back, when Leah finally returns after a deep sea mission that ended in catastrophe. It soon becomes clear, though, that Leah may have come back wrong. Whatever happened in that vessel, whatever it was they were supposed to be studying before they were stranded on the ocean floor, Leah has carried part of it with her, onto dry land and into their home. 
You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty: Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again.It’s been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she’s almost a new person now—an artist with her own studio, and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it’s time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn’t ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career.
Silver Under Nightfall: Remy Pendergast is many things: the only son of the Duke of Valenbonne (though his father might wish otherwise), an elite bounty hunter of rogue vampires, and an outcast among his fellow Reapers. His mother was the subject of gossip even before she eloped with a vampire, giving rise to the rumors that Remy is half-vampire himself. Though the kingdom of Aluria barely tolerates him, Remy’s father has been shaping him into a weapon to fight for the kingdom at any cost.
Disintegrate/Dissociate: In her powerful debut collection of poetry, Arielle Twist unravels the complexities of human relationships after death and metamorphosis. In these spare yet powerful poems, she explores, with both rage and tenderness, the parameters of grief, trauma, displacement, and identity. Weaving together a past made murky by uncertainty and a present which exists in multitudes, Arielle Twist poetically navigates through what it means to be an Indigenous trans woman, discovering the possibilities of a hopeful future and a transcendent, beautiful path to regaining softness. 
The Perks of Loving a Wallflower: As a master of disguise, Thomasina Wynchester can be a polite young lady—or a bawdy old man. She’ll do whatever it takes to solve the cases her family takes on. But when Tommy’s beautiful new client turns out to be the highborn lady she’s secretly smitten with, more than her mission is at stake . . . 
It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror: Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes—such as the circumspect and resilient “final girl,” body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet—spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world. 
Refusing Compulsory Sexuality: A Black Asexual Lens on Our Sex-Obsessed Culture: Everything you know about sex and asexuality is (probably) wrong. The notion that everyone wants sex–and that we all have to have it–is false. It’s intertwined with our ideas about capitalism, race, gender, and queerness. And it impacts the most marginalized among us. For asexual folks, it means that ace and A-spec identity is often defined by a queerness that’s not queer enough, seen through a lens of perceived lack: lack of pleasure, connection, joy, maturity, and even humanity.
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inspiration-rain · 1 year ago
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I just finished playing Life is Strange 2. It was really good but I hated all the endings, so I drew my own.
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I call this ending The Two Wolf Brothers. I like to think this is how their story ended. After leaving Away, Sean and Daniel break through the wall and successfully make it into México. They find their dad’s house in Puerto Lobos, fix it up, and make a life for themselves there. Sean teaches Daniel spanish and homeschools him until Daniel is more independent (and fluent). Sean works various jobs at first, until he launches his career as a tattoo artist and opens up shop in their house. Him and Daniel also create art together, using Daniel’s power to make sculptures and cool stuff. I don’t like how LIS2 treated the characters in the end, and how it basically said they had to be bad people to live in México. Regardless of whether the portrayal is accurate (of Puerto Lobos and gang activity), it twisted my gut to see this story deny Sean and Daniel their happiness together in Esteban’s home country. Not only that, but it made their entire journey feel pointless.
So, that’s why I came up with a better ending—one where the two wolf brothers can live freely together, be happy, and still stay true to themselves, retaining what they learned from their father, Karen, and all the other important people in their life. As far as I’m concerned, this is what’s canon.
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anim-ttrpgs · 2 months ago
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Songs for Eureka Sessions: Sessions Intros
(in case you wanna open each session with a musical theme like an episode of a tv show)
Masterpost of Eureka song lists & how to choose good music for any TTRPG session.
Gabriel Knight Theme
Superstition - Stevie Wonder
Behemoth - Gost
Eclipse - Perturbator
Mystery Inc. Intro
Suspiria Theme
The Woods and the Goddes - Deadly Premonition
Kolchak: The Night Stalker Theme
Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds
Pink Panther Theme
Prologue Music – Resident Evil 2
Saudade – Resident Evil 2 Remake
Main Theme – Max Payne
The Hunt – River City Girls
Max Payne Theme – Max Payne 2
Main Theme – Gabriel Knight (Original)
The Church - Perturbator
Max’s Choice: Duty vs. Passion – Max Payne 2
Infuscomus – Blood
Haunted When the Minutes Drag – The Guest
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Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but you can still check out the public beta on itch.io to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, etc.!
You can also follow updates on our Kickstarter page where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.
Beta Copies through the Patreon
If you want more, you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy earlier, plus extra content such as adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.
The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club
If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes
Other Stuff
We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.
We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.
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blazehedgehog · 2 months ago
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After watching SAGE's 2024 trailer, you ever get the feeling that most people want to be making indie games instead of fan games nowadays,? Every year there's been less and less fan works there.
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This is the first year I've really felt it in any meaningful way.
There have been attempts for more than a decade to rename SAGE to drop the "Sonic" part. I've always pushed back against that and at this point the branding is too strong to give up, I think. People know about and come to SAGE because the brand is strong. Renaming it would be a death sentence.
Taking off my business hat, it's a bummer to see fangames in the minority here. Everybody wants to hop on that indie game gravy train and chase the success of Pizza Tower (seriously, count how many Pizza Tower clones are in the trailer this year) or Freedom Planet or Spark the Electric Jester or whatever.
And it's easy to congratulate people for striking out on their own and making original games. I was one of the many voices urging Sabrina to divorce Freedom Planet from the Sonic franchise and make it into an original game she could sell. So she ran a crowdfunding campaign (multiple, actually), was successful, and now we have two Freedom Planet games. And that's great!
But... does that mean all fangames should go away forever?
The example I lean on the hardest is comic books.
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A lot of the guys who created the biggest super heroes aren't around anymore. They gave up control long ago or are straight up dead now. These books are effectively officialized fanfiction now, as are the $300,000,000 movies based on them. An ever-increasing number of people writing, drawing and directing these characters today were not alive when they were originally created.
But people still keep writing Batman stories, officially or otherwise. Because there are some stories you can only tell with Batman. Now, you could break off and make your own character that's similar to Batman, build up this history for him, and then finally tell your original story with that character. And maybe that's satisfying, to have built something of your own like that.
But for one: that's a lot of work. Batman is interesting because he has decades (almost a century now) of history behind him to play off of and work with. There are people out there who will tell you to just start writing your dream story and forget about building up to it first, but that's more about motivation and confidence than the idea that stories don't need historical context.
And two: that's already been done.
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There's a good chance you know who Rob Liefeld is from his, uh, "distinctive" art style. He also created Deadpool, a katana-wielding mercenary assassin that dresses in red and black, whose real name is Wade Wilson. But before Deadpool, he created Deathstroke, a katana-wielding mercenary assassin that dresses in orange and black, whose real name is Slade Wilson.
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Here is a guy who has built a career on copying his own work (and the work of others) over and over and over again.
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Did it make Rob Liefeld rich and famous? Technically yes, but he kind of got rich because other people made better work using his characters, and he's famous for being kind of a hack.
So which is better?
Creative output you can do right here, right now, today, but is considered "fanfiction" or "fanart" or a "fangame", which may or may not lead to you being the person handling the official thing at some point down the road...
Or spending years of your life toiling to bring an original concept to life, and even if you struggle through all of the boredom and hardship of getting your original product out the door, it gets lost in the noise of now-million other creators trying to do the exact same thing. And then, at the end of your launch, after 2, 3, even 5 years of working and working and working, you've only made enough money to cover rent on your apartment for a month and a half.
Or, to put it another way:
Are you ditching fangame development because you have a legitimately great story you want to tell, or are you just doing it because you can't make money on a fangame?
Are you just creating another Bloodstrike?
As someone who has struggled to justify putting lots of hard work into a fangame myself, and have both made very popular fangames and some not-so-great original games, I don't know if I have a definitive answer for you. But I do wish there were more fangames at the fangaming event, and I will say, as always, if I could get paid a livable wage for making fangames, I would drop everything and do it in a heartbeat.
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destielbeatlesminibang · 4 months ago
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Masterlist!
And that's a wrap! Many thanks to all the writers, artists and betas who contributed to the first Destiel Beatles Minibang!
If you haven't had a chance, you can check out all the incredible works below!
The Long and Winding Road (Explicit), written by FriendofCarlotta with art by Gemma
1970: Sixteen years have passed since Dean and Castiel parted ways — separated after years of loving each other quietly and secretly at the boarding school they both attended.
Life took them along two very different paths, with Dean drifting across the country for years while Castiel launched a career in academia at Princeton. But now, a twist of fate is set to reunite them: as teachers at the same school where it all began.
Will they be able to find their way back to each other, or is it too late to start all over again?
When My Mind Is Wandering (There I Will Go) (Teen and Up), written by rachelindeed with art by hawkland Finale fix-it: In order to save Dean’s life, Cas has to temporarily take him as a vessel. While Dean’s body heals, they decide to explore what a life outside of hunting could look like. On a volunteer trip a few towns over, they are reminded of the beauty of community. And as Cas’s thoughts mix with his own, Dean learns how freeing it can be to see himself through the eyes of someone who loves him.
While My Guitar Gently Weeps (Teen and Up), written by eyesofatragedy67 with art by witchy-worm
Cas’s deal with the Empty broke Dean’s heart. And no matter what they tried, they couldn’t get him out.
They did manage to take care of Chuck, though, and with him out of the picture, Dean finally hung up his gear and built a life for himself. Or whatever passes for life when the one person you want to share it with most is out of reach.
But Dean’s got his bar, Charlie at his side, and his guitar to keep him company on the nights memories pull him under.
And he hopes against hope that someday Cas will return to him.
Anna, Go to Him (Teen and Up), written by butterflyslinky with art by golby-moon
Dean arrives at a new (but hopefully last) high school, where he meets overachiever Anna. There may be something going on there…if only she would stop talking up this guy called Cas.
Close Your Eyes and I'll Kiss You (Teen and Up), written by tfw_cas with art by golby-moon
Dean Winchester has been secretly in love with his college roommate and best friend Cas for years, but he’s convinced Cas doesn’t feel the same.
When he’s offered a teaching position thousands of miles away, he sees it as an opportunity to be closer to his brother… and maybe give himself some distance from his feelings for Cas. After all, it’s not like they can’t still be friends.
But things go badly when Cas finds out, and Dean’s not sure their friendship is going to survive. And as for his dreams coming true… Well, those are just lyrics, right?
In Matters of Faith (Teen and Up), written by celestial_starlight with art by witchy-worm
After Sam and Dean burn Cas’s body, Dean walks. He leaves Sam with a devil baby he can barely stand to look at and rents a cabin near the field where he spread Cas’s ashes. He prays to Cas day and night, desperate for his faith to mean something. His calls wake Cas and bring him right back to Dean’s doorstep. Dean takes him home, struggling to sort out a rollercoaster of feelings while the three of them figure out how to raise a nephilim child.
Love You With All My Heart (Explicit), written by samanddean76 with art by hexentaenzarin
Dean is an up-and-coming musician, who along with his brother Sam, has finally started to make waves with their band, The Quarrymen. Little does he know that the perfectly innocent Omega sitting in the front row of The Cavern Club, watching him perform with an enchanting smile, is the True Mate he has been longing for his entire life.
Castiel can hardly believe his luck, when he and Gabriel are invited backstage after the show. Once Gabriel slips away with Sam, Castiel is left alone with the incredibly handsome Alpha who spent the entire show singing every single song to him. But the club is raided before they can cement their bond, and Castiel is forced to flee into the night.
Whisked away by an overprotective mother, Castiel doesn’t know if he will ever see Dean again. He seeks solace in writing his poems, and fervently wishes that one day he will be reunited with the man he loves, not knowing that destiny and fate are working to bring the separated mates back together.
Lucy In the Tank With Morons (Explicit), written by queerwerewolf with art by TwinOne
Dean Winchester, a premiere shark biologist at the Georgia Aquarium, who works with their three tiger sharks, never ever expected to find himself enamored with a newly acquired giant Pacific octopus, and more importantly, her exceedingly handsome blue-eyed handler. In a little hide-away beneath the waves, Dean will fall in love in an octopus’s garden.
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