Emery's Masterlist:

Pedro x Reader:

A Man After My Own Art: Professor!Pedro x TA!Reader

PROGRESS: Currently on Temporary Hold

Summary: You(Reader) move to new york to persue the dream of one day becoming an art professor. You're almost there, you just have to surrvive grad school at NYU but luckily equipped with your charm, wit and creativity, in your dream industrial loft apartment, you will acheive your dream. Maybe you find love along the way... maybe you don't. Thats for you to find out and for me to write!

Prologue : Insert Pun Here

Part 1 : Did we just meet... AND cute?!

Part 2: People are People

Part 3

Ect.

Pinterest Board: https://pin.it/3Xtwfpe

Joel Miller X Reader

(Insert story poster)

Title:TBD

PROGRESS: Currently In The Making

Summary: N/A

Prologue

La astronomía es algo impredecible,te puede dar bonitos momentos o algunas raras veces terribles momentos, pero todos amamoa ver el cielo

#swetieecomm

Então né, já são 2 anos de saudades, aqueles que #amamoa nunca morrem, apenas partem antes de nós, nao adianta, não tem volta, e é ai #Tiozao, você será #eterno. So o que é bom dura tempo o bastante para se tornar #inesquecível. Só os loucos sabem o tamanho dessa perda. #Obrigado #Chorão por me ensinar a 'lutar pelo que é meu'. Me mostrar' como tudo deve ser''. #LaFamilia013

Hey guys so i struggle a little with consistent upload schedules but now that i have more time to write i was wondering how often i should be uploading parts of my story??? Once a week??? Twice a week?? Whenever the next part is ready??? Let me know!!

-Em out✌🏽🫰🏽🫰🏽

(AMAMOA) Chapter 2: People Are People

Professor!Pedro Pascal x Teaching Assistant!Reader

Words: 1073

Masterlist

*All Pictures used (unless stated otherwise) will be found on my pinterest linked in the masterlist*

Story Warnings: MDNI 18+ (mostly in the off chance that I choose to explore heavy themes later on. This will obviously be updated at a later time) Crocs(yes that has a warning, i’m kind of obsessed with wearing crocs and currently own 2 pairs hopefully more in the future)

Story Content Tags (most of this is mentioned in later chapters.): Meet-Cute, First person perspective, Age-gap(F28/late 20s/early 30s x M40/late 30s/early 40s), Art references, new york nonsense written by a non-new yorker, spanish/spanglish, Lots of college technical talk, this was kinda based off a dream, crocs, College AU, AU where pedro isn't an actor/famous, slightly proofread… sorry for typos i'm trying guys😭😭😭

Chapter Summary: Reader comes to a possibly devastating realization on the way to the gallery, however Pedro remains his goofy-golden retriever self. Also Sarah Paulson is there, she’s a fellow professor at NYU and seems to be friends with Pedro… maybe more? 

LATE JUNE(PICKING UP AFTER CHAPTER 1):

With my outfit layed out, I slept like a baby with dreams of that sharp nose and bronze skin. The soft caress of his fingers against mine, those gentle puppy dog eyes like pools of warm cocoa. Pedro was in my dreams that night and the anticipation to see him again was almost palpable. I woke up that morning almost with a start, a jolt to rise from the sweetest slumber I had ever had. I got dressed and went about my day completing some lighter chores that I had left till the last minute. With a belly full of breakfast and a latte in hand, I slipped on some shoes at the door and went on my journey to see the man that’s invaded my dreams. On the way to the gallery I had a lot to think about, mostly the fact that when I looked at the fliers, both for the TA/Professor gallery and Pedro's…it was the same flier… I knew I had seen the flier before but I didn’t think it was the same flier I had seen earlier that day. In the back of my mind, despite having only thought about Pedro the whole morning, there was still a creeping feeling that the goofy loveable handsome Pedro I met yesterday…. Is my boss… or pseudo boss?? Or whatever, is the same Pedro that emailed me… the painting professor. It’s not exactly wrong if, per say in future, we were to pursue a relationship… IF that ever happened, not saying it would, but it wouldn't be bad if it did. He’s not my teacher… he’s a coworker… that’s higher up than me but he’s not the one ‘signing my checks’, sort-of-speak. The whole situation is conflicting, I mean there’s no denying that Peter/Pedro from the cafe is Peter/Pedro from my emails, he said it himself, his job has to do with painting and it's the same flier. There’s no way that they’re not the same person… there’s no way that there’s 2 Pedro’s/Peter’s both doing a job having to do with painting, having an art gallery AT THE SAME TIME IN THE SAME PLACE WITH THE SAME FLIER AREN'T THE SAME GUY. I worried about these intricate details, wringing my hands anxiously before texting him to ask if he wanted a coffee on the way there; just another way to delay the inevitable. I arrived with my watered down latte and his 6 shots of espresso over ice, still can’t believe he drinks this. The place was lively, there was light music playing in this brownstone walk-up that sat between an apartment and a warehouse turned studio. It wasn't too far from where campus resides, we were about a 10 minute walk in the direction of greenwich. I sent him a text letting him know I arrived and that I’d wait outside for him with his coffee.

Out walked the man of the hour. He strutted out in a fuzzy cardigan, no shirt underneath, his messy mop of hair now a quaffed wave of tresses trickling down the back of his head like a soft waterfall. A gold chain adorned his neck surrounded by a light smattering of chest hair. His dress shoes clicked against the concrete as he lifted his sculpted arms, fingers decorated with rings, to pull me into a warm hug. “Oh my god! I’m so glad you could make it! AND you brought me coffee!?” He exclaimed holding me out at arms length, inspecting my outfit and face almost like he’s committing my look to memory. “I mean it was on the way and I wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to celebrate my new friend!” my worries were still in the back of my mind, but on the forefront was how good he looked and how I should be enjoying myself. “By the way I hope you don’t mind, but most of the people here are colleagues from work plus some grad students that’ll be working alongside us for the semester. I mentioned I’m a professor right?” He gestures to the people inside and then looks around as he speaks, ultimately stopping to stare at me as he says the words that I dreaded the most. “Um no, you didn’t! But… there’s actually something I wanted to-” As I get to the topic that’s been flooding my mind, we get interrupted. “Hey! Sorry to cut in! Pedro we’re ready to have like the speech thing, everyones mostly here. Except for your TA… she RSVP'd but like I dunno.” What I’m assuming is a fellow professor, mutters the last part as though thinking out loud. “Oh! Ok thanks! Um Y/N this is Sarah Paulson, a theatre professor at NYU and a super close friend of mine. Sarah, this is Y/N, we met a couple days ago, remember the girl I told you about?” He introduces us as he holds both our hands. They talked about me…wait..they talked about me? THEY’RE CLOSE FRIENDS AND THEY TALKED ABOUT ME?! “Oh yeah, THIS clumsy bitch loves to make people bust their asses! It’s like the spacial awareness isn’t there or something.” Sarah laughs, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, head leaning against his, as she busts his balls about his goofy behavior. “Why don’t we go inside so you can see some of the pieces, maybe you can make some more friends while I have a short convo with some of my coworkers and the grad students?” He leads me in, his large hand guiding me by my lower back as Sarah strides in front of us. The warmth from his hand spreads throughout my whole body just as he levels himself to whisper in my ear “Don’t worry about her, she loves to tell people how much of a mess I am, while being a mess herself…that’s probably why we’re soulmates in a sense” the last part is muttered in thought, almost like I wasn't meant to hear it. Soulmates? Well that complicates things...more so than they already were…

Now's the best time to tell him, otherwise I'll never get to say it. “Hey so before we walk in there’s something I need to tell you…” I pull him aside so as to not block the entrance. “Yeah? What’s up?” he says, those puppy dog eyes boring into my soul, concern written all over his face. “So..”

To be continued…

Note: If you can’t find chapter 1 for whatever reason (it doesn’t wanna show ip in the pedro pascal x reader tag for some reason) you can find it on the masterlist linked above alongside the prologue and this chapter and any future chapters.

A Man After My Own Art (AMAMOA)

Prologue: Insert Pun Here

Professor!Pedro Pascal x Teaching Assistant!Reader

*DO NOT REPOST*

the idea is ultimatly mine however i do not own the concept/the person that is Pedro Pascal and major warning because this an AU he will be a littl OCC

Words: 642

Story Warnings: MDNI 18+ (mostly in the off chance that I choose to explore heavy themes later on. This will obviously be updated at a later time because this is my first fic and so far I only have this prologue and the first chapter fleshed out) Crocs(yes that has a warning, i’m kind of obsessed with wearing crocs and currently own 2 pairs hopefully more in the future)

Story Content Tags (most of this is mentioned in later chapters.): Meet-Cute, First person perspective, Age-gap(F28/late 20s x M40/early 40s/late 30s), Art references, new york nonsense written by a non-new yorker, spanish/spanglish, Lots of college technical talk, this was kinda based off a dream, crocs, College AU, AU where pedro isn't an actor/famous, slightly proofread… sorry for typos i'm trying guys😭😭😭

Story Summary: You (the reader) have moved to New York enrolled in NYU’s Graduate program, a dream you thought you’d never achieve in an apartment you thought you’d never have. Fate works in funny ways sometimes and you might find love in an unexpected place. You might not.

New York City, the big apple, the big easy, the city that never sleeps… and my new home. I moved from my, frankly, boring home in a shitty town, to the bustling sleepless chaos that is New York City, specifically Manhattan, for the job of my dreams. I've been working hard and have failed countless times trying to become an art professor for years now and finally after having flunked undergrad several times, racked up debt up to my ears, paid off all that debt, and saved up for my dream apartment, I’m finally a grad student. Bachelor's degree here I come! I stood in my studio loft, reminiscing about all the frustrating times I suffered through trying to make it while sitting in unnecessary classes like government and science because who REALLY needs that? Not an art major like me that's for sure!

I was uncomfortably reminded of the sweat dripping down my brow, boxes of my life surrounding me, “I better continue unpacking”. Its strange; a person's entire life can be packed away in a single box and not just any box… a series of boxes actually, old amazon boxes to be specific, a jarring reminder of the grasp capitalism has on me but who can blame me, I NEEDED the knick-knacks that originally came in those boxes, I DESERVED the little drinky-drinks that I can’t find in stores that only amazon sells.

 I walk around and stop at the large windows facing the city, people down on the street going about their fast-paced lives with no clue that they’re being watched, like fish in a tank. I run my hand against the exposed brick of the living room wall, my crocs squeaking on the polished concrete flooring, I’ve finally made it. I can just imagine myself laying upon my couch when it gets delivered, the sun beaming in through the windows as I curl up in its warm glow much like a cat does. The thought of enjoying my time in my new home fills me with not only hope but a boost of serotonin. With all the commotion of moving and the excitement of being somewhere new, I forget that I haven’t eaten all day. Grumble Grumble My stomach echoes through the not yet furnished apartment “I think i should go get food.” 

I break in the new shower, bust out the new towels and get ready to head out, struggling in the maze of boxes that is my new home. On the street, I weave through bodies getting home from the midday rush, speed walking new yorkers with their own stories and lives intertwining for just the second we pass each other on the street. The warm oranges and vibrant lavenders and pinks painting the sky much like oils do a canvas. Life truly does imitate art…at least that's how I think the saying goes.

 I stumble across a food truck selling gyros and order my lunch…dinner?? Is it really lunch anymore if it's 6pm? Right as I'm getting out of line I walk into a wall, landing straight on my ass. “Are you ok?” spoke the wall in a soft voice, concern laced in its tone. I look up into soft brown eyes, slightly stunned. That WASN'T a wall. “Uhh..” I stammer and stutter as tan skin, fluffy bed swept hair, and large square framed glasses stare down at me waiting for a semblance of a response. “Number 45!!” 45…. My food! I scramble to get up, slightly bumping into the handsome stranger. “Sorry!” I yell out at him as I jog up to the counter and essentially run away with my tail tucked between my legs, sort of speak. As I walk home, I look back, the stranger's face seared into my mind. Hopefully I see him again, but knowing this city I probably won't.

A/N: I hope you guys like this i read it myself and was like "this is passible" LMAO sadly dont have anyone to test read before i post so if theres typos or grammar issues, i do apologize. If you are interested in getting tagged feel free to comment below. Just a heads up this is just a silly little fic with no set direction and now set date on when I'll be posting howevr because i have the majority of chapter 1 written I will be posting it in about a week or so. -Emery, Out!

I bet you can guess who this next fic is about👁️👁️

And before anyone says “but what about AMAMOA???” I haven’t COMPLETELY given up on her. I started chapter 3 back in December and then my laptop fell and broke so Ive kinda been without a computer for a bit (and i know i can just post from my phone like I usually do but i feel better typing out fics in my computer and then pasting them into tumblr.

But yeah joel fic coming at some pointttttt im still fleshing out the idea idek the details of whats going on just like… somethings…. But let me know what you think so far!

Em out🫶🏽🫶🏽✌🏽✌🏽✌🏽

(If you click the red text it’ll send you to the prologue of my current fanfic thats on hold for the moment “A Man After My Own Art” a Professor/Boss! Pedro X Teaching Assistant/Employee! Reader fic)

Ok so after much deliberation… I decided I’m going with the Art Professor! Pedro Pascal x Reader. Ive already written the prologue and most of the first chapter I just have to edit it a bit but I’ll give you guys the choice of what name I should use for the series. Im between “A man after my own art” or “Be stil, my beating art” but I’m on the fence. If you have something completely different to call it feel free to comment it in the replies!!!

*Note: id prefer it if it was like a romantic artsy pun if you feel like commenting on the title of the story*