#Did you get an A+ in geometry?? Is that how???
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clover-the-awesomest · 1 year ago
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Reblogging again because this is just straight-up incredible
Hello! First post for my account! I wanted to say thank you to @somerandomdudelmao ! I LOVE Rise of TMNT and your comic is such an amazing journey, story, and overall a wonderful time. Thank you for doing what you do. It was super fun to board this part of the comic where Casey and Donnie brake into EPF. I thought "OooOOo! how did that fight go?!" So please enjoy! READ Cass Apocalyptic Series! What are you waiting for! THANKS AGAIN!
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unnonexistence · 3 days ago
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btw if i'm ever rambling about math on here and you have questions about it, you are ALWAYS welcome to ask. always. everyone has a different level of math education they're working from & math has a lot of technical terms & frankly i just forget stuff a lot so my rambling might not be all that coherent to begin with.
worst case is idk how to answer your question. more likely you will get some sort of explanation because it means i get to ramble more.
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aviancataclysm · 3 months ago
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me when the next logical step in my demon progression is problematic but i cant even withstand the level of flashing present in blindfolder
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abugidaithink · 10 months ago
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this button lets you use ↓ this menu ↓ to choose colours for objects!
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i love 2.2!!
edit: hey so apparently i'm an idiot, check reblogs
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nostalgia-tblr · 7 months ago
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started reading about the shakespeare authorship thing and the first argument from a literary person to say Willy S couldn't have written them is "he didn't go to university," at which point i went "oh wow i didn't realise THIS was the level of 'evidence' people meant"
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lameow-l · 11 months ago
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FUNNIEST DUDE AND HE'S COMING HOME FOR FREE!!!!!!!
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waffled0g · 1 year ago
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Everyone gets “The 90s” look wrong and I hate it
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Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldn’t tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didn’t think too much of it.
Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...
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Goddammit they’re identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.
Look, I know I’m late to the party to complain about “the 90s look” when we’re just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But c’mon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part Two™ 
Trust me when I say that we weren’t all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldn’t stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.
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Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.
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Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.
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Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell something’s influenced by Memphis design from it’s telltale trademarks:
Clashing, neon colors.
Use of diametric shapes.
Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.
It wasn’t long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:
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It was a special time, yes.
I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:
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I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trend’s expiration date. 
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Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.
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Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally I’m a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasn’t a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.
So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This part’s up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:
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It’s that grunge music from Seattle that’s so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.
Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.
Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.
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I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:
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1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maul’s lungs.
Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?
Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.
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chillinglyadventurous · 1 month ago
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Fiddleford Knows
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When I read this request, my jaw DROPPED! I immediately stopped doing what I was doing and wrote this. How could I not? It’s the perfect request???
Tags: Absolute Fluff and pining!
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“Hey, Specs!” You shouted as you burst into Fiddleford and Stanford’s dorm room. “You’ll never guess who just got called into the dean’s office after Honor’s Geometry.”
You plopped yourself onto Fidds’ bed as you always did when you burst in to tell him something. He was sitting at his desk with a book in hand. You glanced at the bed to your left, finding his roommate laying there with a textbook in his hands too. You gave Ford a shy smile before returning your attention back to Fiddleford.
Your friend barely looked up from his book, noticing the blush on your cheeks when Ford smiled back at you, “How do you know everything about everyone all the time, [Y/N]? This is a big school.”
“I’m observant,” you countered. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “Emma May Dixon, the dean pulled her out this morning. Apparently, someone caught her sneaking into this very building after hours.” You waggled your eyebrows at him.”I just hope whoever she was coming to see has a strong alibi. Like, I don’t know, a super cool roommate named Stanford, perhaps.” You stretched your arms above you head, “Anyways, I just thought I’d let my best friend know.” You stood up, giving the boys a wink, “Well, gentlemen, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. I better get back to the ladies’ dorm before I get caught like Emma May. Goodnight!”
Ford rested his textbook on his chest and folded his hands behind his head, “You’ve noticed she has a really pretty accent, right? It’s not just me?”
Fiddleford looked up at his roommate. “That’s all you have to say about that conversation?” He set his own book down on his desk, “Nothing to say about me sneakin’ Emma May in here?”
“When did you sneak her in here?” Ford sat up straight. He wasn’t even a heavy sleeper.
The next morning, you found the boys sitting at a table in the dining hall. Fiddleford was having eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. Stanford was eating a simple bowl of cereal. You scooted in next to Fiddleford with your hands clasped together. A bright grin was covering your face as you sat in front of Ford. 
“Stanford, I have a surprise for you!” He choked on his milk when you looked at him, a blush crept up his neck, through his face, and to his ears. You didn’t notice. You thought he was always red in the face. “I found it on my way here,” you opened your hands to reveal a two-headed toad. You ran a finger down its back as you met Ford’s eyes, “Isn’t he cute? He’s a little weird, just like you, but absolutely adorable.” A snicker from beside you wiped the smile off your face. You blushed then. “I mean,” you stammered, “it’s cute. You’re not cute. Well- I mean, you’re not not cute. This guy, though-  I mean, just look at him.”
A hand clamped over your mouth, your eyes wide. “Stop talking, dummy,” Fidds whispered into your ear.  “She’s had too much coffee, Ford, don’t you think?”
“Decaf is better for you,” Ford mumbled through a mouth full of cereal. A few o’s slipped from his mouth and back into his milk.
You giggled as you watched the man you’ve had a crush on for weeks wipe his chin in embarrassment, but Fiddleford’s elbow planted itself deep into your ribs, “Uh, well, boys, I better get going. I don’t want to be late for World Lit.” You placed the toad into Ford’s open hands, “I’ve named him Hopper. Not very original, I know, but I just found him a few minutes ago. Not much time to think of something clever. I’ll be by later tonight to check on him.”
Ford watched you walk away hoping you’d look at him before you disappeared. You did, “Did you see those blue earrings [Y/N] was wearing? They really brought out the color of her eyes.”
“What did she name the toad, Stanford?”
Ford’s eyebrows furrowed, looking down at the amphibian in his hands, “I’m pretty sure she said Four-Eyes. She’s very clever like that.” Fiddleford looked at him with utter disbelief in his eyes, “You see, it’s funny because I wear glasses. A common nickname for people who wear glasses is Four-Eyes. This toad has two heads and, therefore, four eyes.”
“She named the toad hopper,” Fiddleford chuckled with a roll of his eyes. He watched as Ford pet the toad lovingly on its back as if it were the greatest gift he had ever received. “Why don’t we go to the pet store after breakfast and get that little guy a proper enclosure? You can show it to [Y/N] tonight.”
Once midterms rolled around, you saw less of Fidds and Ford. You’d been busy studying and so had they. Even your weekly DD&MD campaigns had gotten lost in the shuffle, the panic of studying nonstop. When you did see them, it was often in the library. You would sit with them, your face blushing everytime you and Ford made eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, Fiddleford was rolling his eyes, completely distracted by the two of you. Neither you nor Ford could sit still around the other, often causing him to move tables. If he was going to pass any of his exams, he needed quiet.
“Fiddleford, we need to talk,” you whined as you burst into his dorm again. 
You quickly glanced around the room to make sure Ford wasn’t there. Luckily, all you saw was Fidd’s and a mountain of reference material. Normally, anything you needed to say to your childhood best friend could be said in front of his roommate. It wasn’t like you were shy. You were very open, very out going, and you didn’t care what people though. Right now, though your words were for Fiddleford’s ears and Fiddleford’s only.
“What’s wrong, [Y/N]? Are you alright?” Fidds looked concerned. Your red eyes and sad face were enough to make him worry, “What happened?”
You gave a pathetic whine again, laying onto Ford’s bed. Often you had chosen Fiddleford’s, but you required this one for what you were about to admit, “I think I’m in love with Stanford.” You held up your hand when Fidds glanced toward the stack of books in front of him. “Please don’t interrupt me. I need to get this out before I explode.” You rolled onto your stomach, your voice muffled by Ford’s pillow. Why did it smell so good? You picked the wrong bed, “He’s just so handsome. He’s so smart. Ugh-” You rolled onto your back again. You didn’t care that your long skirt was getting twisted around your legs or that your hair was about to tangle. Who cared about your appearance in that moment? It wasn’t like Ford was in the room, “And he’s so cute, you know? I just want to kiss him all over!”
You spread yourself out on his bed and looked up at your friend. “Quit looking so smug! It’s not funny!” You let out a fake sob, “And have you seen his hands? They’re so weird, like him, but it makes him so unique and beautiful.” You let out a frustrated groan, “It would be so nice to hold his hand, wouldn’t it? My hand would just feel so secure in his.” You flipped over onto your stomach, unsure of how to make yourself comfortable when you’re spilling your guts like this. Your head was propped up in your hands, “Fiddleford, you have to tell me what to do! Please?”
When Fiddleford sat back in his chair, legs crossed and his hands behind his head, you sat up, “What’re you looking so smug for? You knew for a while I liked him. It’s not like you’re learning something new here.”
Fidds chuckled, his head motioning towards the stack of books, “Hey, Stanford, what do you think she should do?”
Your breath hitched in your throat when Ford came out from behind that mountain of books. His face was beet red and his hand nervously scratched the back of his neck. A flood of emotions flowed through you. At first, you slammed your fist on Ford’s bed because you were angry Fiddleford didn’t warn you. Next, you were embarrassed because those words never would have left your lips had you know the subject of your rant was sitting right there! Third, you were sad, afraid of rejection. Finally, however, you stood from Ford’s best. You fidgeted uncomfortably in the middle of their dorm before bolting toward the door.
Fiddleford chuckled, “Go get your Princess Unatainabelle, Ford. The damsel is in distress.”
Ford hesitated for a moment before he was on his feet. He ran after you through the door you left open, too much in a hurry to close it behind you. You heard him calling after you, but you wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t  You didn’t want to hear him say he just saw you as a friend. 
He caught you by the shoulders. Looking into your eyes, you panicked, mouth moving a mile a minute, “Stanford, I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship. You’re a great guy and i just really like you. It’s stupid, i know, but I thought we got along and you don’t have a girlfriend, so-”
Your rambling was cut short. A six fingered hand covered your mouth to stop you. He needed you to stop talking, “You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, [Y/N].”
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tarotenchantress · 5 months ago
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Astro observations ptIV "am i stupid?" edition🧠
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DO NOT PLAGIARISE MY WORK🚫
All these observation are my personal observations
Tw: brief mention of physical abuse
BY- tarorenchantress🧚🏻‍♀️
I made this post cause i toooooo, have been mocked for my intelligence alot. Alot of times.
Hello guyssss!!!! im back with another edition. In this one were gonna discuss the placements that may indicate that you underestimate you intelligence, or others do or others have called you stupid or mocked your intelligence or simply underestimated.
🧠 saturn in 3rd house, 9th house, aspecting mercury, in the houses of gemini, sag, in the degrees 3°,15°,27°.
[Saturn restricts and here's the thing, 3rd house governs your early childhood and learning imo. It also governs your schools and neighbours whilst on the other hand, 9th house governs travelling and higher education alongside your higher mind and religeon and faith and mercury needless to say determines your intellect and mind. Saturn rewards but creates a harsh environment and also and it also rules discipline. This placement indicates that you may have felt that you always had to work harder than your peers to achieve the same as them. It may akso indicate that no matter what you may have always felt inadequate and average at best. It may also indicate that authority figures may have been harsher with you or may have doubted your intelligence and neglected you or they may have been more attentive towards you than other students as they may not have alot of confidence in you. You may also see your peers travel before you but you may not even know the basics of travelling or may feel very stupid when it comes to how to travel alone and may have started travelling later than your peers. You may learnt hings later than your peers or they may have learnt alot of things before you . Like bitchhh i have saturn in 9th house right and heres the thing, i felt so stupid whenever i would travel with my friends cause they all could do it like booking the cab, going on solo trips with friends but i couldnt do that and hate travelling alone too. Like i would rather die than actually travel alone even though it intrigues me. 9th house also governs foreign travel snd i always wanted to go to abroad to study pyschology but not only did i never go abroad i alsooooo did not get to choose psychology and instead my parents made me choose law. Also indicates that you may have started speakinglater than your peers as saturn also delayss ]
🧠 asteroid nessus in 3rd house, 9th house, aspecting mercury, aspecting 3rd house, 9th house, in the degree of 3°,15°,27°
[I have nessus in 3rd house and growing up, i always felt neglected by my peers, by my teachers, my parents would mock me, call me names because i struggled to understand maths, i even got beat with a belt by my dad because i couldnt understand conversion in metric system and inches and geometry as well. Basically all of maths. I would avoid studying like it was a plague. I was also constantly compared with other students by my parents and would feel extremely insecure of other people scoring well. I also had horrible self esteem and wouldnt answer as i feared being mocked and the one time i did answer,the teacher looked at me and told me that it waas wrong snd then called me near the white board and made me solve it and i struggled too and my hands were shaking and everyone laughed at me😀like????? Bitch?????😀 oneof my classmates even called me weird so ig??? Fuck you too bitch, you were weird too😀
Nessus is where you are abused and picked on and how you do it to others
It may also indicate being compared to your sibling or the children you study with or the neighbourhood children.
It got better in highschool but bitch please. Never again.
Similar effects can be seen with 9th house as it also governs college and travelling, religeon and law. Like you may feel like you are dumb when it comes to travelling. Like you may not even know how to book tickets or do basic shit for travelling. It may also indicate that you may have a fear of travelling eventhough you see your peers do it. Alsoo, relegious study or things that require faith may make you feel stupid. ]
🧠chiron in 3rd house, 9th house, in the degrees of 3°,15°,27°, aspecting mercury, aspecting3rd house, 9th house in gemini, sag.
[I have mercury conjunct chiron and i was constantly attacked for my intelligence. Like people would just call me dumb esp my tuition teachers]
🧠 mercury or sun in pisces, cancer, aquarius, capricorn, mercury making negative aspects with saturn, pluto, nessus, 4th house, 12th house, aspe ting 12th house too.
[If you have any of these placements, you may have noticed that people tried to gaslight you or question your memory or you learnt things slowly or people did not understand your mind or you may have felt misunderstood by them and mocked. May indicate someone who was soft spoken, or considered weird esp pisces and aqua, someone who had issues taking a stand for themselves. Aqua mercs could have exerienced being mocked by their friends. These placements may also daydream alot as a form of escapism.
Like, i remember this guy i was studying with, he once said that his tuition teacher considered him stupid cause he "looked" like he did not understand anything and he would also ask the this guy if actually understood anything 💀 and he was the topper of grade for 6 consecutive years btww. Je was a pisces sun Oh most of the people i know who were extremely creative have these placements]
🧠 neptune aspecting mercury, neptune in 3rd house, 9th house, in the gemini degrees 4°,15°,27° , neptune aspecting sun, ascendant, mc, aspecting the 3rd house, 9th house, even 10th house
[Neptune tends to create confusion and haze in whatever area it is present. People with this placement may xonstantly feel as if they dont understand whatever theyre reading or learning, may have been "invisible" in school, may have been average in school, good with creative works and imagination, people may not have afixed perception about you or may be veryconfused about you. Your teachers or parents may feel very confused about you understanding the concepts, some may even say you "look" stupid.
Like i have neptune aspecting my sun and ascendant and i had my teachers say i look blank and lost. I also got the title of the "quiet one" in 8th grade cause i was too soft spoken and rarely opened my mouth]
🧠pluto aspecting 3rd house, 9th house, mercury, degrees of gem 3°,15°,27°, in gemini in sag, in 3rd house, in 9th house.
I have mercury conjunct pluto and i always had people attack my intelligence by calling me names as a "joke"
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pupyuj · 5 months ago
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→ “ruin our friendship.” || kim gaeul x reader fic.
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— for years, gaeul has trusted your heart and tried to find whatever good you saw in your douchebag of a boyfriend, but she has had enough. and now she wants to show you that you deserve so much better...
word count: 6.9k.
dynamic: dom!kim gaeul x sub!taken!reader.
warnings: bffs-to-lovers, cheating, oral, fingering, cunnilingus, facesitting, faceriding, overstimulation, masturbation, praise kink.
requested ? : nope.
a/n: i don't even know how long this has been rotting in my drafts but SHE IS FINALLY FREE! and we have our first gaeul fic AND I HAVE OFFICIALLY WRITTEN A FIC FOR EVERY IVE MEMBER EYAYYYY 🥰💖 now i don't have to worry about possibly looking like i favor one member more than the others omg guys i can assure you i have thoughts about ive unnies all the time, the ones for yujin are just loud as FUCK. much like herself. ANYWAYS, HEHE I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS and i hope you all love it 💕
p.s. as usual this is not proofread thoroughly so apologies in advance for any mistakes! 😭💞
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ever since entering college, you and your best friend gaeul have had to match your schedules perfectly in order to hang out and even talk regularly. those assignments couldn’t finish themselves after all, as much as you hoped they did. years before, you and her would have the time of your lives shopping and visiting the many different restaurants your vast city offered, but now, everything was different. and in gaeul’s most humble opinion, your busy lives as college students wasn’t the only problem. she could name a few actually! there was her part-time job at her mechanic father’s service shop where she spends most of her time sitting on a chair and listening to middle-aged men try to woo her as they wait for their car to get fixed, and there was your side gig as some small-time coordinator in a pretty popular live house in the downtown part of the city.
but gaeul can’t exactly be angry at your jobs for pulling the two of you away from each other! what she can be angry about was you were always distracted whenever you did go out together. here’s a clear picture: you would be sitting with her in a cute coffee shop after two weeks of not being able to see each other and there gaeul is, talking about the shenanigans that happens in her classes, her dad’s shop, and her life in general. then, she’d find you spacing out, or staring at your phone—just completely ignoring her. for the first few times it happened, gaeul just thought that perhaps you were just worried about your schoolwork!
it made sense after all. you were some kind of academic overachiever that always used to nag at gaeul to finish her geometry homework during your high school days. gaeul was going to be fine with it all; she even thought about things she could tell you to soothe your head but one little peek at your phone screen ruined it all. every ounce of patience in gaeul just disappeared into thin air once she saw that you were distressed because of your stupid boyfriend’s messages.
ugh. your boyfriend.
now, gaeul wasn’t one to shit on her best friend’s lovers just because, okay? ninety-three percent of the time she has a valid reason! here’s the breakdown: your boyfriend is manipulative, abusive, possessive, and ugly. one would say that maybe he wasn’t always that way, or that maybe he’s struggling with things! well, gaeul can confirm that he has always been horrible to you and that whatever the fuck he’s dealing with doesn’t give him the excuse to be such an asshole to someone that genuinely cares for him. gaeul can’t even count how many times you’ve showed up at her doorstep in tears because of him. 
she really can’t understand why you’re still dating him. it’s been about five years since the two of you got together and really, the only good thing you got from that relationship is a ride to the campus and if you’re lucky and he actually feels like being a decent boyfriend for once, some fancy clothes. clothes that he picks out for you, and he can’t even get that shit right! he doesn’t know your style, the kind of clothes you want to wear, the brands you’ve always wanted to get clothes from, and in general, you. gaeul knows people like him all too well. people that only want you to fill a very specific void in their miserable life.
gaeul can’t stand him. you deserve so much better, you can do so much better.
and gaeul is better.
just like that, an idea pops up in gaeul’s head as she sits in a booth in her favorite diner, but she didn’t have time to think about it because she looks out the window and there you were in a pretty, pink sundress with your hair arranged in a cute braid adorned with little butterfly clips. gaeul lets out a chuckle—rei, your roommate, must’ve helped you with that. gaeul also notices that you were wearing the sneakers that the two of you bought together so you could match, which warmed her heart. even more so when she remembers that she was wearing her own pair of those sneakers too!
gaeul watched patiently as you entered the diner and greeted the waitress behind the counter like you always do. a bright smile spreads across your face once you find gaeul in your usual booth, and gaeul feels herself flashing her very own grin as you start walking faster towards her.
“hey! sorry, i’m late. i had to change my entire outfit. i didn’t think it would be so warm today.” you said, pulling gaeul into a quick hug before sitting across from her. gosh, you looked beautiful! the baby hairs that stuck to your forehead and the sides of your face only made you look even cuter, gaeul almost wanted to reach out and pinch your cheeks.
“careful. look any prettier and someone might mistake you as my girlfriend.” gaeul quipped. she finds herself grinning proudly as you laugh.
“you look dashing yourself! they probably already think you’re my boyfriend, but you’re not neglecting me for ‘a night with the boys’ so we would get found out quickly.” you sighed. you were clearly disappointed, but you covered it up with another laugh before sipping on the glass of water gaeul kindly ordered for you.
“then today is a date. he probably hasn’t taken you in one for ages, anyway.” gaeul doesn’t know if you’ll actually buy it. she wasn’t even joking! as far as she knows, his version of dates is taking you on a boring ass car ride and spoiling you with useless shit. she knows what you want on dates. she knows what you want in general. let this work.
you giggled, “true. it’s a date then.” and she doesn’t miss the shy smile on your face afterwards.
well! it looks like this was going to be easier than gaeul predicted.
as the two of you ate your lunch, you talked about school and how life has been treating you both. you were thriving for the most part! you were up to date with your coursework, your job hasn’t been too demanding or taxing, and you were able to have enough breathing space in your life to actually meet up with gaeul, like right now! it seems like the only problem in your life was your boyfriend. he hasn’t been spending too much time with you, and one would think it might be because he’s gotten busier but nope, he’s as shitty as gaeul describes him to be. he only wants to hang out with his team and his stupid friends, and he barely talks to you even in text! that asshole.
gaeul didn’t let you dwell on it all though. she absolutely detests seeing you upset. especially over that useless fucker. she distracts you with a few funny shenanigans from working in her dad’s shop, and how she has actually been doing quite well in her classes! it was clearly your influence. hell, if it weren’t for you, gaeul wouldn’t even be in college at all! you gave her direction, and now you were giving her all the motivation she needs to make it through one school day at a time.
fuck, your boyfriend was so lucky. gaeul has to let you see that he wasn’t worth anything you’re giving him. she has to pull you away and make you see that a pretty girl like you needs to feel good!
in more ways than one.
“so, boyfriend, where are we going?” you joked as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of her car. while gaeul started the engine, that was when she put her little scheme in motion.
“bowling. or rather, sending the balls to the gutter for two hours straight.” she said. bowling happens to be your favorite stress reliever, it always has been! gaeul always liked watching you as you played. even when you didn’t hit any of the pins, you still had fun. gaeul was willing to bet that your pathetic boyfriend rarely ever takes you bowling.
“god you’re the best.”
“mhm, i know.”
from then on, gaeul knew it was going to be a breeze. especially when she did get on the road and you just allowed her to put her hand on your thigh. you didn’t even notice at first, occupied with fixing your charming but unruly hair. but then gaeul lightly squeezed your thigh, caressing slowly just to test the waters, and finally, you noticed her. she was afraid that your attitude would change, but it seemed like… you liked what she was doing. and so gaeul’s hand stays in place. she took note of how you squeezed your legs together every time she caresses your skin gently, or how you would sometimes put your hand on top of hers.
the drive to the bowling alley was quiet, save for the music you’ve put on, of course. silence was a rarity between the two of you since there was always something to catch up on, things to complain and whine about, people to talk shit about, and casual conversations that have become needed just to have some sense of normality in your chaotic lives. gaeul was afraid she had made you uncomfortable because come on, she was quite literally trying to take over your boyfriend’s place! joke or not, this was bound to make you just the least bit weirded out!
imagine gaeul’s surprise when she briefly glanced over to your direction and find you looking relaxed. not even the constant buzzing of your phone was able to break your focus on the road. just like that, gaeul doesn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. forget about him.
and it seems like as soon as gaeul parked her car near the bowling alley—you did! you took gaeul’s arm and started gingerly dragging her through the doors, giggling as you did so. it was easy to secure a spot for the two of you, the place wasn’t too busy yet after all.
“two hours of this? you ready to lose, kim?” you said with a mocking smile as you approached the lane. gaeul sat back on the couches behind you, smirking as she very shamelessly checked your backside out unbeknownst to you. there was a small table in the middle of the u-shaped couch that gaeul sat on where you laid down your phone. as you busied yourself making your cute little bowling profile on the monitor near the lane, gaeul glances down at your phone that kept lighting up at it vibrated. your boyfriend was calling you, and he has sent you a dozen or more messages that you still haven’t bothered to look at.
gaeul sneers at the picture of your boyfriend on the screen. he really didn’t deserve you! luckily for him, she will happily take you off his hands. gaeul takes your phone and declines the call, smiling happily when she leaned back on the couch and continued on staring at your beautiful form. you hooked a medium-sized ball with your hand and prepared yourself—sure, you were never the best at the sport but you were to have fun and have fun only! and so you delivered the ball and hit exactly seven pins. gaeul tilts her head a bit to see the look of pure joy on your face and finds herself grinning along with you.
for once, it was not at all a bad start for you! you grabbed the smaller ball and prepared to take down the last three pins at the other end of the lane. upon staring at your near flawless little pose that especially accentuated your ass, gaeul whistles. the sound catches you off-guard and you end up messing up your throw, sending the ball into the gutter in a fit of laughter.
“you little devil.” you said, playfully glaring at your best friend who has stood up and started stretching all of her limbs.
“this is where your short-lived lucky streak ends,” gaeul pats your butt as she approaches the lane. and of course, she didn’t lie. gaeul delivers a ball and hits her first (and certainly not last!) strike. she winked at you while you stared at her, mouth agape at how she didn’t even hesitate to not go easy on you. “cat got your tongue, baby?” your best friend teased.
you don’t even notice the nickname, what with your competitive spirit alive and well. “oh, it is so on, kim gaeul!”
and for the next two hours, you and gaeul had the best time of your life in that bowling alley. the longer the two of you were together and the more you got drunk from pure joy of being with each other, gaeul got bolder. she was touching your waist, your back, and sometimes even rested her hand on your ass for more than a few seconds! you didn’t care—in fact, you were just as bad! grabbing her and pulling her close to whisper things in her ear (partly because the music would have drowned your voice, mostly because you wanted gaeul nearer), allowing her to not-so-discreetly touch you in places a best friend should definitely not, and finally, sitting on her lap, playing with the collar of her shirt and telling her to take you to her home.
exactly zero innocent intent at all, and gaeul was seemingly more than happy to comply!
on the way to gaeul’s apartment, it was noticeably… warm. both of your hearts were beating fast and loud from anticipation. gaeul yearned to feel your skin without the hindrance of your clothes getting in the way. her fingertips itched to feel goosebumps run along your arm, shoulders, and back as she touched you in ways she always dreamed of doing. her lips longed to taste yours since she knew that peach-flavored chapstick you two liked to share would taste so much sweeter if you were the direct source. gaeul wanted you, and she was going to have you—boyfriend be fucking damned.
when gaeul flipped the lock on her door, the two of you were all over each other. bags and jackets thrown to some random corners, shoes messily removed and left all over the living room area. gaeul barely twisted open the doorknob of her bedroom door, being so focused on exploring every crevice of your mouth with her tongue until she tugs you inside her room. her lips stayed locked with yours as she sat on her bed and pulled you to her lap, hiking your dress up and squeezing your ass. your moans were much, much sweeter than she imagined. she shivers at the feeling of your fingers playing with the back of her neck, her own whimpers only encouraging you to busy your hands with unbuttoning her shirt.
when you’ve successfully taken her shirt off, your dress was next. and gaeul made sure to take her sweet time with that! her hands caressed your thighs, gently squeezed your hips and even moved you so you could grind on her thigh (the cute whine she earned from that was very much appreciated!), and then her hands stayed wrapped around your waist as she placed soft kisses along your collarbone. you could feel her smile against your skin when you squeezed at her arms, knowing damn well what you wanted but refusing to give it to you because… well, if this happens to be the only time she fucks you then she might as well make it last!
finally, when gaeul was satisfied with the little marks she had left on your collarbone, she started pulling the ribbon on your back and loosened up your dress. “you made sure to look pretty for me, huh?” she asked as she watched you undress yourself. she took note of the bright blush on your cheeks under her dark stare, and it made her think that perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was thinking of fucking her best friend for the longest time. meanwhile, in your defense, it’s been quite a while since you had to dress yourself up and what better occasion to do that than hanging out with your best friend?
plus, if it got you to get fucked by the friend in question then you’d say that the two-hour preparation was worth it!
when gaeul laid you down on the bed, she noticed how you suddenly became quite tense, looking as though your boyfriend was about to come breaking down gaeul’s doors to drag you back with him. gaeul made sure to relieve you by kissing your forehead, taking your hands with hers and then putting your knuckles to her lips. “you’re safe with me, (y/n).” she whispered, pecking your knuckles gently and smiling at you. sure, it works… but the fear that bubbled up in your stomach did not go away.
“if he finds out about this…” you pull your best friend close, letting her embrace you while you wrap your arms around her neck.
gaeul scoffed arrogantly, “he won’t—”
“—if he does, i don’t know what i’ll do,” you never told gaeul that your boyfriend has been watching out for her for the longest time. he was always suspicious of gaeul, saying that he was so sure that she wanted to fuck you and make you hers. because of his suspicions (that now proved to be true), he always made sure to be annoying and text you and call you an absurd amount of times whenever you were hanging out with gaeul. he never does that when you’re out with your other friends. no. that behavior was reserved for the one person he was threatened by. “i don’t want him to hurt you.” you said. you can’t even imagine what he would do to you, let alone the girl he absolutely detests.
“he’s as dumb as a brick. i could fuck you in his own bathroom and he’d have no idea.” gaeul makes a mental note to reserve that exact scenario in the future.
you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “you know he can very much send you to the hospital, right? he’s like, three heads taller than you!”
“three heads yet he’s still stupid enough to treat you horribly and practically give you away to me,” gaeul sneaks her hands behind you, unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you in one swift motion. your heart beats louder every second gaeul’s eyes travel downward, soaking in more and more of your naked beauty that she longed to set her eyes on forever. “i’ll teach him a thing or two about giving a pretty girl the pleasure she deserves.”
every doubt and fear you had evaporates into nothing as soon as gaeul puts her lips against your skin once again. sucking, biting, licking—anything she can do to leave marks and make you remember this night akin to a skilled painter perfecting their masterpiece with every stroke. you feel gaeul’s hand trail down your stomach and palm your soaked panties, and you had an almost automatic reaction to grind against her, blushing wildly upon hearing her chuckle at your enthusiasm. gaeul wraps her warm mouth around your nipple, your back arching at the feeling. an embarrassingly loud moan escapes your mouth when she flicks the hardened bud and presses her palm flat against your clit at the same time.
you were losing further control of your actions. grinding restlessly on gaeul’s hand for further pleasure, taking her free hand to play with your other breast, and even pushing her head impossibly closer to your chest. she was skilled with her tongue—you shuddered at the mere thought of what else she could do to you should this night go on for longer. you feel gaeul slide her hand inside your panties, only to feel your pussy with her fingers rather than fucking you immediately.
it was adorable how impatient you were. you needed and wanted to be pleasured. it must have been quite a while since you’ve gotten some action—gaeul isn’t surprised that even in sex your boyfriend can’t deliver. every flick of your nipple, every pinch to the other one, every parting of your pussy lips, and every brush against your clit, you were mewling. you would be embarrassed if you actually heard yourself but instead, all you could focus on was the little pleasure gaeul was giving you right now.
“that feel good, hon?” gaeul asks as she presses her lower palm against your clit harder than ever. she found your little nods endearing and your inability to find the words to answer her only inflates her ego, but as much as she would love to tease you all day long, she was just as desperate for you as you are for her.
“how long has it been since he’s made you cum?” she asked, slowly pulling your panties off and letting it drop to the floor. gaeul keeps her eyes fixed on you, looking for discomfort or doubt or any sign that tells her how you could be feeling about all of this. while gaeul knows that the two of you have already crossed a point of no return, she knows that if you gave yourself the time to think about all of this, you would come to your senses. in other words, you would get the fuck out of her house and never talk to her again. it would be disheartening, yes, but gaeul unfortunately knows you well enough to know that it would be possible.
to her surprise though, you seemed to have stopped caring now. you didn’t even bother to glance at your phone that was on the floor, vibrating wildly due to the amount of times you were being called by your boyfriend. you only silently beckoned for gaeul to touch you, to taste you, to claim you. and gaeul doesn’t need to be asked twice to oblige!
“he… he has never made me cum.” you admitted, looking away from the embarrassment.
“are you serious?” gaeul laughs, but then her jovial expression is replaced with an incredulous one. “you guys do have sex, right?”
“of course we do! just… h-he’s horrible at it… every time we’re done, i have to get myself off because he never can!” you covered your face in frustration, now just wondering how you actually survived years without being able to cum with your partner during the act.
“fuck, he really is worth nothing at all, huh?” gaeul cackles. ah, poor you… but you didn’t have to worry about not cumming tonight, because gaeul just now made a silent promise that she’ll make you cum as many times as you want. she lowers herself so she could be facing your pussy, all wet and ready just for her. just as gaeul was about to bury her face in between your legs, you take a hold of one of her hands and intertwine it with yours, making her heart swell with affection. she doesn’t look back up at you, knowing that the blush on her cheeks would be too noticeable. gaeul starts off giving your cunt gentle kisses and little licks—hearing you softly whimper and seeing you jolt every time the tip of her tongue so much as brush slightly around your clit gets her adrenaline going, and eventually, gaeul commits herself to eating you out.
within mere minutes of practically making out with your pussy, gael feels you put your free hand behind gaeul’s head and pushes her closer. “more…” you could barely say, too caught up with the euphoric feeling gaeul has instilled in you using her tongue alone. it takes everything in gaeul to let go of your hand to part your lips to have better access to your clit, and when you grabbed a fistful of her hair and let out a beautiful moan, gaeul knew she was doing something right.
something adorable gaeul notices is that you were extremely sensitive when it comes to your clit, more than any woman gaeul has ever been intimate with and even herself. she licks a stripe up your cunt, relishing in your taste and the way you whine her name, before sucking on your clit. it’s almost as if you’ve never had your pussy eaten out this good before! and truthfully, you really haven’t. gaeul’s own satisfied moans created a buzz in your head, letting you know just how much she loved and savored your taste with each lick. she brings a new kind of pleasure when she makes out with your clit at a gentle, slow pace. the kind of pleasure you would never find your boyfriend (or anyone else for that matter) to be giving you.
it almost makes you wonder what gaeul’s true intentions were. of course, you weren’t expecting her to be completely in love with you. if she was, the first thing she would do to show it was not making you cheat on your boyfriend with her. was she just looking for a quick hook-up? but if that was the case, she could have just grabbed some random girl instead of putting your friendship in an awkward spot like this. perhaps you were just another box in a list that she wants to check off, but that would be cruel and completely unlike the gaeul you have known since the two of you were young. with the way she was cautious with how she fucked you, touched you, and even handled you during all of this, you wanted to believe that she has some sort of undiscovered feelings towards you.
but why were you even thinking about that? did you even have feelings for her? that was a dangerous territory you never wanted to explore, not when you cherished your friendship too much. but the ‘idea’ of dating your own best friend was never really just an idea with you. not when gaeul had ten times the charm that makes your boyfriend look like some hopeless wimp. not when gaeul will forever be the person that knows you the best. not when every time she does something as simple as tell you you’re pretty, or open a door for you, or laugh at your jokes, or smile at you so handsomely, the tiniest of butterflies flutter around in your stomach.
it was a scary feeling, one that you always hoped to go away one day but these days, and especially today, it has been hard. maybe when this is over… you don’t have to run away from it anymore, because when you look at gaeul’s eyes that pierced right through yours even as she was eating you out, you can see something beyond the hunger, the lust, and the desperation.
whatever it was, you found yourself more willing to uncover it, even if it might ruin everything.
“you’re so perfect, (y/n)...” gaeul snaps you out of your trance and immediately after, she dips her tongue inside you. “you’re better off with someone else… someone who knows you better, inside and out… mmhn... don’t you agree, princess?”
you whine shamelessly, “y-yes..! ahh… with you…” now you didn’t even mean to let that slip past your lips, but gaeul seems beyond satisfied that you did. completely addicted to your taste, gaeul pulls you closer and further down the bed by your waist, your back arching with how well she was using her mouth. the pleasure gaeul brought was enough to make your thighs twitch, your legs slightly rise in the air, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
“you cumming soon, baby…?” gaeul asks, briefly lifting her head slightly from in between your legs. a sly smirk graced her features, knowing that the cause of your incoherence was her. it gives her the confidence to do a lot more to you, to do everything she has been wanting to do for years. you seem to notice how she had paused to stare at you, and you shoved her face back down to your core, earning a chuckle from her. gaeul pushes your thigh back, almost lifting your leg up, for better access and eats you out better than before as if that was even possible.
at this point both of your hands were on her head. you would be worried about the tight grip you had on her hair but you were way too busy on that tight knot in your stomach. you think you hear gaeul encouraging you to cum, and you can vaguely feel her palm resting on your stomach and it does help you relax a bit. enough for you to have the strength to look down at your best friend, whose eyes have always been on you this entire time. god, she was pretty… and she looked like she belonged right where she was. she didn’t give you any more time to admire her though, as a flick of her tongue on your clit sends you to a blissful orgasm.
your body softly falls backwards your bed as you throw your head back with only gaeul’s name filling the air. gaeul spends a good few seconds staring at your face—her doing. you were simply bewitching in her eyes. she made sure to take her time cleaning you up while you came down from your high, waiting patiently until you’ve caught your breath and calmed down. she sees you breathing normally and smiles before rising up, attacking your face with a barrage of kisses while you laugh and take her in your arms.
“don’t get comfortable. this is all we’re doing until morning.” gaeul, more than ready to please you all day and night long, places a wet kiss on your collarbone before sliding her hand in between your legs. she was well on her way down your core until her phone blares loudly—someone was calling her. she ignores the sound, opting to kiss down your neck while her fingers start ghosting over your clit. and just then, you turned your head and got a glimpse of the caller id on the gaeul’s screen. but gaeul sees it first and she swipes her phone away with a dark chuckle.
“w-who is it…?” you asked quietly, not wanting to alert whoever was on the other end. gaeul’s smile grows wider as she puts the caller on speaker. your heart drops to your stomach as soon as you hear the other person’s voice. 
a man. your man. your fucking boyfriend!
“are you there, kim?”
sheer panic courses within you. you tried grabbing gaeul’s hand, but she moves away, pressing a single finger against your lip. and then her mouth moves, but she doesn’t make a sound. trust me, she says silently. you kept still, trusting your best friend to not do anything stupid. of course she wouldn’t put you in any danger just to have fun, but you did worry that she would set your boyfriend off enough for him to do something to her. your heart beats loudly in your chest and goosebumps appear all over your skin. you were terrified beyond comprehension, but gaeul’s soft caresses and reassuring eyes comfort you, even just a little bit.
“what do you want?” gaeul asked, annoyed that he just had to interrupt the two of you. her hand once again travels downwards your body until she reaches your cunt. she traces your lips before inserting the smallest length of her two fingers, making you bite back a moan.
“where’s (y/n)? why isn’t she answering her phone?”
gaeul grins and plunges her fingers deep inside you, she couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh as she watched you choke out a moan. you immediately covered your mouth, pitifully glaring at your best friend but not being completely mad at her. her fingers felt too good inside you—staying perfectly still just to get you to get used to the feeling until she starts moving, slow and steady as if she herself was savoring the feeling of your cunt clench around her digits.
“what was that? is that her? are you fucking my girlfriend?!”
gaeul cackles, “you wouldn’t know what (y/n) sounds like when being fucked even if you’re the one fucking her.” she increases her pace, even nodding towards you to get you to relax and just keep trusting her because she could feel your fear. it made her angry. no one should claim to be your partner if they made you feel so afraid of them. you shouldn’t have to beg for them for their time and love either. if gaeul had known that this was what everything from back then would lead up to, then she would’ve intervened when you and your boyfriend were still just acquaintances. but there was no point in dwelling on that because she has the opportunity to make this all right.
and the correct ending to all of this was her freeing you from him, him ending up all alone, and the two of you figuring out what to do with each other.
“you bitch! i swear to god if that’s (y/n)—”
“—i’m not fucking my best friend, shithead. you should start worrying more about the fact that she’s refusing to call your lacking ass back.” gaeul watches you intently as you slowly lose most of yourself to her. moving your hips accordingly, meeting her little thrusts with eagerness that only got gaeul herself drenched. you tugged on gaeul’s top, silently asking her to get off the call already and just fuck you. and that you didn’t have to ask her twice, of course. while your boyfriend kept yelling at her, gaeul ends the call before blissfully dropping her phone to the ground.
you don’t know what came over you, but all of a sudden you wanted to see your best friend under you. tugging her down harder, catching her lips with yours in a searing kiss… feeling sick satisfaction in you when she stiffened at your sudden surge of passion, and using her shock to flip your positions over. gaeul pulls her fingers out, putting them on your hips instead and trying to keep up with the way you kissed her feverishly.
“you’re cute…” gaeul whispers, thoroughly entertained by you. ugh, those eyes. that nose, her perfect moles, her smile, that mouth… fuck. you have to feel her lips on your pussy again but this time… you wanted to be in control. you smile at your best friend as you swipe your thumb across her lips before getting in position.
“holy shit, (y/n)—”
“—shut up, man.” you cut her off with your face so warm you think you might explode. she didn’t look like she was turned off by the idea. in fact, gaeul places her hands on your thighs, looking more excited than she has ever been this entire time. “t-tell me if i’m hurting you… or anything.” you said. gaeul merely nods, eyes focused on your core. you were going to say a few more words, maybe tell her that you haven’t sat on anyone’s face in a while so you might be bad at this but gaeul couldn’t wait another second. she pulls you down, and the sound that escapes your lips when her nose bumps against your clit was simply criminal.
“ffuck…! oh, g-god…!” with one hand tightly gripping the headboard and the other holding onto a random pillow, you start riding gaeul’s face. and again, she was moaning. as if a better flavor has never graced her tongue until she got to taste you. gosh, the way you threw your head back and let every lewd sound fill the air as you rode her got gaeul clenching, but she couldn’t keep her hands off of you either. she squeezed your thighs, almost as if she was encouraging you to go faster and just use her.
“mmhgn… so good… more, please..” letting go of the pillow and the headboard, you put your hands on gaeul’s head. you ride her faster, focused on pleasing yourself and chasing another orgasm while gaeul does her work with her tongue. it was getting harder and harder to hold herself back from touching her own pussy; she was too drenched and you were simply too delicious. at this rate, she might just cum untouched! the idea of it was humiliating almost, but gaeul figured that if she made you cum hard enough then you wouldn’t even realize what had happened to her. but then again… why would she go through all that trouble?
with one hand, gaeul reaches down and unzips her jeans, sliding further down and massaging her clit through her panties. of course, you don’t see this. you don’t even hear gaeul over the sound of your whimpering and moaning—all you wanted was to use her mouth to get yourself off. you managed to open your eyes slightly, however, and looked down at gaeul. her eyes were shut off, eyebrows furrowed deeply as she diligently ate out and fingered herself at the same time. 
you heart swells as you allow yourself to etch every single facial feature of hers in your mind. you didn’t think you’d find a more fitting place for your best friend. it turns out she looked good underneath you, too! when you got distracted by admiring gaeul’s face, you felt a sting on your ass. you gasped loudly, and although it caught you off guard, you liked it. you moved your hips enthusiastically as gaeul squeezed your ass, now glaring at you to intimidate you to keep going. and it works! well, it’s not like you were going to stop just like that.
“p-pretty… you belong right here…” you said, gripping her hair tighter. gaeul moans at your words and she feels herself only clenching tighter around her own fingers. she didn’t expect to get so turned on by merely fucking you and hearing you talk to her in such a different way than usual. she pushes her tongue inside your cunt, making you scream in pleasure. gaeul’s ears ring at the sound of your voice—she was sure now that you wouldn’t dare go back to that pathetic boyfriend of yours.
you were hers now. and she has always been yours.
“gaeul… babe, i’m cumming—god…!” with one last thrust on your best friend’s face, you came. moaning blissfully in the air as gaeul allowed you to ride your orgasm out, and while she laps up your cum as best as she could, she hits a satisfying climax which grants you the perfect chance to hear a cute squeak from her. gaeul removes her hand from her panties and holds you down on her face, not entirely satisfied to let you go even though she can see that you can barely keep yourself sitting. that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore though as gaeul once again flipped your positions so you would be sitting on the bed and she would still be in between your legs.
“mmh… stop, i’m tired… please.” you shake your head weakly, gently tapping gaeul’s hand. fortunately enough, your best friend respected your wishes and stopped, opting to scoop you up in her arms instead and hug you. you laughed at how much of a mess you made on your best friend’s face, wiping all of it clean with your hands before giving her a quick kiss. gaeul doesn’t forget to get rid of her pants before staying completely still in bed with you, staring at nothing but your pretty face for minutes on end.
you think you fell asleep a couple of times, and you ended up always opening your eyes to gaeul smiling dumbly at you like a lovesick puppy. if you had known gaeul allowed herself to see you in such a different light, then you wouldn’t have wasted time trying to fall in love with a boy who did nothing good for you. but no matter, you were going to leave him, and finally, you and your best friend can work towards a more fulfilling relationship for the two of you.
“i always knew it’d be you in the end.” gaeul whispers as she leaves the tiniest and sweetest kisses on your knuckles.
the tiniest bits of fear settled in the pit of your stomach—you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out about this at all. you wanted to protect gaeul and dump his ass with as much as peace as you can manage, but you know he was going to bring her up somehow. at the end of the day, the blame should be put on you since you were the one who allowed gaeul to make those advances towards you anyway… but you knew all too well that that wouldn’t stop your boyfriend from coming up with an excuse to try and confront your best friend.
but every time you dwelled on those thoughts, gaeul somehow notices it and keeps your eyes on her. she knew she would be able to pull your attention to something else and that she does rather effortlessly. and you knew that you would be safe, as long as you were with her.
you laugh at her words, “i’m glad that you didn’t fuck me just because i’m hot and you hate my boyfriend.” you joked, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.
“no, stupid,” gaeul pulls you closer by your waist, kissing your nose. “i love you.”
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afraidparade · 2 months ago
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how do you draw your hands so well (even when they’re simplified)? do you use any methods/references or did it just come with practice?
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some HANDy advice from your dear sweet uncle
a lot of it does come naturally, but that's due to a lot of practice with REFERENCES(!!!!!!!) and also learning to draw from life, so that if i need a quick reference i can just look at my own hands. practicing simple geometry and foreshortening exercises will help build up your skills to do weirder poses, but at the end of the day it's just shapes
(also in case you've ever wondered why my fingers get so toony and bendy sometimes - it's half stylization and half because i'm double-jointed irl so my built-in references just. do that)
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ckret2 · 7 months ago
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Chapter 48 of human Bill Cipher slowly dying inside for 24 hours straight with no signs of stopping anytime soon:
The Eclipse: Part 6
Over a month since his death and after nearly 50 chapters, at long last, the moment you've all been waiting for:
Bill has a complete physical and mental breakdown.
Unfortunately there's only one person available to deal with it.
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They landed near where they'd camped last night. While the Pines climbed out, Bill stared at the sharp gray rocks beneath the cliff. The blood was gone. It took him a moment to process that Ford was speaking: "We can pack our tents, return Tate's boat, and borrow a phone to call Stanley for a ride."
Bill numbly climbed onto land.
Their tents were in disarray, but more or less where they'd left them the night before. While Ford and Dipper dealt with the largest tent and cleaned up the campsite, Bill methodically attempted to fold up the tent he'd slept in.
He couldn't make sense of it. There were too many plastic rods with too many little joints and too many fabric flaps, he couldn't parse the geometry of it. This should be easy, he'd watched Dipper assemble the tent last night, how hard could it be to do the same in reverse?
But it wasn't working. His hands were shaking. The joints were bending wrong, the joints were bending in directions that shouldn't exist, in impossible dimensions, shrinking and expanding perversely as they twisted in alien foreshortening—
Bill let out a gasp so loud and sharp that Ford and Dipper immediately whipped around to face him. Ford asked, "What is it?"
Bill couldn't speak. He just stared down at his awful human legs.
"Bill?"
Voice very far away—but impressively calm and flat—Bill said, "I have to sit down."
"Why? What happened?"
"My legs aren't working. I can't feel them."
His knees buckled. He tried to grip them to keep them straight, but found only one arm responded. "And—my left arm." He dropped to his knees in the mud.
And suddenly he was the center of attention, two humans moving around him in a dizzying flurry, all grotesque limbs and fabric: "Hey, are you okay?" "What happened? Are you injured?" "Think we should get help?" "Maybe he needs food—"
Too much. He closed his eyes, but there were still fingers on his arm and shoulders and back. He swatted at them with his functioning hand. "Don't touch me don't touch me DON'T TOUCH ME!" His shriek startled the birds from a nearby tree. He attempted to bite somebody, he wasn't sure who—this was what he'd been reduced to, no legs, no strength, no power, he couldn't even protect himself from being touched, all he had left was his teeth—but he misjudged the distance and bit only air. But it was enough to make the humans back off, shrinking into the distance.
"Don't touch me. Stop trying to move me. Don't ask me why I can't move. I don't know. This—this—" he gestured frantically at his body. He was moving too fast, talking too fast. "This—corpse—human body—is stupid. It's just being stupid! I need to sit. Leave me alone, I need to sit. I need to sit, and—look at nothing, and breathe." He was talking far too fast, breathing too fast. "I need it so much. Go away."
No matter how hard Bill tried to imagine the humans spontaneously ceasing to exist, they did not go away. Ford knelt in front of him, studying his face. "Try to smile."
Bill forced a smile. "Good. Good, good. Positive thinking."
"No. I'm trying to see if you're having a stroke." He sat back. "Your face muscles are still working symmetrical."
Bill decided to keep smiling anyway. He thought it might help. Happy happy happy.
"You say your can't feel your legs."
"Yes."
"Or your left arm."
"Yes."
"Did you feel any pain beforehand? Tingling in the limbs, or...?"
"No—no, no. They were working fine and then they were gone. They just—disappeared." Bill laughed. The laugh went on too long and sounded too high and too nervous. 
Ford nodded. "Okay. Drink this."
A water bottle materialized in Bill's field of vision. It took a couple of tries for Bill to manipulate his hand through three-dimensional space to grasp it. He shakily drank as much as he could. It tasted like drowning.
"Dipper, run to the bait shop and call for an... The nearest hospital is at least twenty miles outside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier, Bill can't get there. Call for a doctor and I'll stay here to—"
"No," Bill snapped, "no no no, don't call a doctor. I don't want—" He didn't want to be seen like this. He didn't want somebody picking him up and helping him into an ambulance like he was too weak to move himself. He didn't want Mabel to know. Bad enough Ford and the brat did. "I don't need it. I'm fine."
"Fine?!" Ford gestured at him in disbelief. "Three fourths of your limbs aren't functioning—!"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Something's wrong with the body. It's got nothing to do with me. I'm fine, I'm just in it." He shut his eyes and tried to breathe. "Just—just let me sit."
"Let you sit and then do what?"
"Give me time. It'll come back. Don't tell anyone and—stop looking at me."
There was silence. Bill didn't want to open his eyes. He heard Ford stand and walk away.
####
"Do you think he's faking?" Dipper murmured.
Ford hated that that always had to be the first question. "I can't imagine what he'd stand to benefit from pretending he can't walk." Bill had been desperate to get back inside the last two days. If he'd now decided to—what? maybe take advantage of his freedom to try to escape?—then why hadn't he done that when they got separated in the lake, or in the caves where Bill could see in the dark and Ford hadn't known how to call the geodites? If he was trying to separate Ford and Dipper from each other so he could kill them one by one—why hadn't he just let them die?
It was hard not to think about how he really had saved them for no clear reason.
"He's spent two very stressful days hardly eating, sleeping poorly, and hiking through half the mountain. I'd say he needs food and rest. And probably more water." He'd gulped down two thirds of Ford's water bottle.
"Seriously? He can't feel his legs, is—is that normal for like a day without food and sleep?" Dipper asked. "People can go longer than that, right? You've gone longer."
"It's not a 'normal' symptom of exhaustion, hunger, or dehydration. But I think he'll fight us if we try to get medical help. Let's deal with the immediate problems first and—see where we are then. Even if it doesn't help, at least then he won't be paralyzed and starving."
Dipper nodded uncertainly. "What do we do if he's dying?"
The boy catastrophized at the drop of a hat. In a way, Ford supposed it was a good thing—having been through his fair share of catastrophes, he knew it helped to be prepared—but Dipper was so young. "Get him to a doctor as soon as we can; and, if that isn't enough... hope we're lucky." In other words: hope Bill stayed dead.
Dipper nodded again. "What's our strategy if Weirdmageddon restarts? Maybe... I wonder if that's what the Axolotl was trying to warn me—"
"Lunch first," Ford said. "Then we can plan for the apocalypse."
####
Bill knew they were going to make him move. They hated him. They would parade him through the streets to make a mockery of him, look at the alien loser in a malfunctioning corpse, washed-up puppeteer who can't even control a meat marionette, he's already dead and you can make his corpse in the forest a tourist destination—
"Okay," Ford said. "We'll give it an hour. Dipper's heading to town to get some proper food and call the shack."
The shack. Like a prison cell with an open door and a black hole inside trying to suck him back in. "Don't tell them—"
Dipper said, "I won't, I'm just letting them know we're not dead. And that we'll call again in a couple of hours."
No doubt so that Bill couldn't kill them without the shack knowing something was wrong. "Right."
"Do you... want any specific food?"
"Not hungry."
There was a pause. "Right. I'll just... grab something."
Bill didn't care what he did. As Dipper left the sound of each footstep was like a knife in Bill's ears. He just needed to breathe, needed to breathe and be normal and feel normal and happy—
Something soft landed on his head.
Bill opened his eyes.
There was an unzipped, slightly moist sleeping bag draped over his head and around his shoulders; and Ford standing several feet away, hands awkwardly clasped behind his back, looking somewhat embarrassed with himself.
Bill said, "What."
Ford cleared his throat. "It. Helped when you were, ah... had a hair cut. I thought—it can't hurt."
It took Bill a moment to figure out what he meant. "Oh." The towel. Ford had seen him hide under a towel. Right. 
Ford winced and muttered, "Maybe it can hurt."
Bill croaked, "What."
It wasn't until he tried to speak that Bill realized he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe. His vision swam, his shoulders shook, his breath came in sharp hitches—no no no no, that wasn't okay, not in front of— Stop, stop, stop.
He covered his eyes with his hand. The water bottle slid off his thighs and spilled on the ground. Between gasping breaths, Bill forced out, "This's—this is—good. Good."
"How is it...?"
"It's a—hint. This—it's—prob... probably... ps-psycho—som—ss—" 
"Psychosomatic?"
"Mm. Mhmm." He tried to get in a deeper breath and failed. "'Sgreat. Means—no inj—injuries. Flesh is—fine."
"So you're..." Ford's footsteps came closer, "saying it's psychological—?"
"No!" Bill let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm FINE! 'M happy. It's the body. It's—some hormone—hunger—exhaustion—just... s-synapses—and neurotrans—transmm—tr—"
"Easy. You can barely talk." He heard Ford sit next to him, felt the sleeping bag shift as he brushed against it. "Try to focus on breathing—"
"WHAT do you THINK I'm TRYING to—" Bill ineffectively pummeled Ford through the sleeping bag. "Move! Move, move, move! Don't t—touch—" He let out a frustrated scream that morphed into a humiliating sob, and had to clap his functioning hand over his mouth to smother the sound. He was not this body; he was a separate thing locked inside the body. This body was a prison, this body was a punishment. The legs didn't work, because the body was doing something to him. These weren't his tears, his grief, his fear. They were the body's. Which hormone was at fault? What could he blame other than himself?
He felt Ford's weight shift away from his side. "Okay, okay," Ford said. "Just... take it easy."
Bill socked him again. "Don't t-talk to me like a horse." He covered his eyes.
He didn't mean to risk his life for Ford.
Former friend, false worshiper, useless pawn, now enemy. Bill had just seen him floating out there and he'd done it—and he'd forgotten he could die.
In the Nightmare Realm he had saved his friends from peril billions of times before, because it was so easy for him, powers like a god, to see someone he was fond of and casually pluck them out of harm's way. It had been billions upon billions of years since Bill had been vulnerable to physical harm. He'd seen Ford in danger and he'd done what he always did and he'd forgotten he could have died.
He could have died. Eternally, permanently, last chance—he could have died.
And it would have been for nothing.
Bill was selfish. He had effortlessly saved friends billions of times but he'd also casually let them die just as many—assuming he didn't kill them himself. He saved friends because he liked them; but he didn't put himself out for ex-friends. Ford hadn't had one nice thing to say to Bill in years. Bill would never lure Ford back under his sway. Ford's survival endangered Bill's. But Bill had saved him anyway. He hadn't even stopped to think.
He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about saving the human hellbent on killing him, he didn't want to think about almost dying, he didn't want to think about how peaceful it had been floating under the water, how easy it would have been to open his mouth and breathe in—he didn't want to think. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to empty his mind. He couldn't meditate through his hitching breaths and the way his stomach ached from struggling to keep his sobs silent, and his legs and left arm were gone.
He was fine. He was happy. He'd always been happy. Happy happy happy.
His entire body shook with sobs. He was dizzy—gasping between sobs for air he couldn't get. He was so lightheaded and crying so hard he couldn't stay upright. The edges of his vision went dark.
Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders and tugged him against his side. He held him up until Bill was too exhausted to cry anymore.
####
There was zipper noise, then a sound like shifting vinyl. Bill cracked his fingers apart to peer through them. Ford had unrolled the portable chessboard and was setting it up. "What?"
"It looks like we'll be here a while," Ford said, addressing his statement to the chessboard rather than to Bill. "It's... something else to focus on."
Bill wasn't sure what the emotion clawing its way through the grief-stricken haze in his mind was, but it felt very similar to relief. He nodded. "S—smart. I'm already—getting bored." His cheeks itched, his eyes burned, and his head was throbbing. As Ford set up the board, Bill closed his eyes and tried again to force himself to breathe more evenly. He was still dizzy from hyperventilating. Embarrassing—even a comatose human can breathe, and Bill couldn't even get that right. "Black?"
"I know."
Of course he knew. Bill always chose black. "First?"
"Fine." And Ford also knew, despite white traditionally getting the first move, Bill always moved first.
Bill waited in numb silence for Ford to finish setting up the board and sit on the other side. Moving almost automatically, Bill picked up a queen, hopped it over his line of pawns—
"Play it properly," Ford said irritably. "I put up with your cheating and lying for years, I'm not putting up with any more."
Bill gave Ford a look that he intended to be deeply offended, but immediately realized was probably just wet and pathetic. "Really? Now?"
Ford at least had the good sense to look a tad embarrassed, but he said, "I didn't set up the board to watch you move random pieces around like an untrained kindergartener."
"Three of my limbs don't work, Stanford."
"Are you suggesting your right arm doesn't remember the proper rules of chess?"
He wondered what Ford would say if he said yes. "I have a headache."
"You're probably dehydrated." Ford rummaged around in his backpack and offered over another bottle of water.
Bill reluctantly accepted it. He probably was dehydrated. "You owe me your life."
Ford fixed him with an unimpressed look. "You're trying to cash in a life debt... so you can cheat at chess?"
Bill opened his mouth; paused as he slowly thought that over; and dissolved into broken, hysterical giggles. "I don't know w-what I'm trying to do." He covered his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to steady his breathing again.
Ford sighed. He waited until Bill had regained some control over himself; and then he said, "You can make up one new rule."
Bill considered the offer. "Total, or per game?"
"Per game."
Deep breath. "Fine. But I'm not telling you what it is. You have to guess it."
Ford considered it. "Three conditions."
"Mm?"
"One: you have to share what the rule was at the end of the game. If any of your illegal moves didn't conform to that rule, you automatically lose."
"Mm."
"Two: any rule you come up with has to apply to both sides of the board equally. Nothing that only advantages you or disadvantages me," Ford said. "Three: if I can figure out what your new rule is before the game's over, I can use it too. Obviously, you lose if I ask you about the rule and you lie."
Bill mulled over Ford's terms. His head was so foggy, he'd already forgotten the first one. "Deal."
"Deal."
####
Bill lost every game.
Badly.
He was clobbered. He was creamed. He was a faint red smear upon the pavement.
Back in Ford's dreams, Bill had won a good four-fifths of their games. Ford had heard during his travels that Bill was a mediocre player, but he didn't think he was so bad that all of those games had been won due to cheating. Even when he wasn't cheating, Bill had sometimes taken Ford by surprise.
But now, Bill was squinting at the board like he was struggling to see where the pieces were. Occasionally his fingers pinched down on thin air like he was trying to grab a non-existent piece. So Ford assumed the catastrophic losses were more a reflection of Bill's mental state than his skill level.
The option to make up rules didn't save Bill, but it at least made the games more interesting—and unlike the rest of Bill's abysmal playing, the new rules gave Ford a glimpse of the devious mind still buried somewhere in the traumatized human body.
The first round, Bill decided that the queen could leapfrog over pieces like a knight, and when Ford pointed out that would mean whoever had the first move could put the opposing king in checkmate in one move, Bill grudgingly amended the rule: the queen could leapfrog to an empty square, but could only take pieces in a straight line in the conventional manner. Ford had to maintain a phalanx of pieces jealously clinging to his king to guard against Bill teleporting his queen to the king's side. Bill managed to check him twice before Ford won.
One round, Bill decreed that rooks could only land on pieces the same color as they were sitting on, then smugly nestled his king on a white square next to Ford's rook on a black square; and then promptly lost the game when Ford pointed out both of Bill's rooks were currently on white squares, meaning he'd broken his own rule before he'd revealed it.
One round he decided that kings could move like queens, which Ford only discovered when he thought he'd checkmated him and then Bill zoomed his king across the board to take Ford's bishop; and then Bill lost a few moves later when Ford used his own king's newly revealed power to properly corner Bill.
One round Bill decided that once any back row piece was captured, it reincarnated in the body of the corresponding front row pawn. Ford genuinely liked the new rule—it meant you had to capture and checkmate both the king and the king's pawn before the game was over, and you had to be more cautious about what pieces you took since it could inadvertently set up a previously harmless enemy pawn to devastate your side of the board. But by the time Bill revealed that rule by jumping a pawn like a knight, Ford had already taken Bill's king's pawn and seen a way to checkmate him in two moves. It was a sore disappointment to end the game before getting to experiment with the new rule.
A few games were so short that Ford won without ever seeing Bill pull a nonstandard move. Round seven was one such game. Ford cornered Bill with a knight and a bishop. That had been the quickest match yet. Game over. "Checkmate."
"Checkmate," Bill said. 
Ford paused, looking over the board, thinking moving his bishop must have given one of Bill's pieces line of sight to his king; but no, his king was perfectly safe. "What?"
"Checkmate."
"You can't mate me, I just mated you."
"I know. Checkmate."
Frowning, Ford said, "Explain."
"The extra rule this game is that both kings are wearing suicide vests." He tapped his king, "He's wired up with enough explosives to wipe out the whole board." There was a look of steely exhaustion on his face. He looked like the kind of desperate, hopeless man who would put on a suicide vest. "If I'm going down, you're coming with me."
Ford laughed so hard his stomach hurt.
It was petty revenge for losing seven games in a row. A frustrated child flipping the chessboard, but making a self-deprecating joke out of it: as long as we both know I'm going to lose anyway...
When Ford had recovered himself enough to look at Bill again, Bill was giving him a faint, grim smile that didn't quite make it to his one open eye. Still—he looked a little less miserable than he had for the past hour. Or the past couple days.
Ford said, "We'll call that one a stalemate."
"I'll take it."
####
After trying all morning and half the afternoon, Dipper had remembered part of what the Axolotl had told him. Just one phrase: sixty degrees that come in threes. He could hear the rhythm and rhyme of whatever the Axolotl said next, something something something -eez—it rhymed, he was sure of that—but the rest...?
It took Dipper over an hour and a half to get back to the campsite; he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, and consequently, gotten lost in the forest. He returned with a plastic bag of the kind of junk food they regularly saw Bill consuming in the shack, a few slices of gas station pizza, and a clear takeout container of nachos. Bill immediately went for the nachos.
While Bill was inspecting the circle-shaped tortilla chips with obvious disappointment, Dipper rummaged around in the plastic bag until he found a small jar of rainbow sprinkles and offered them to Bill. Bill took it without acknowledging Dipper, awkwardly untwisted the lid with one hand and ripped off the seal with his teeth, and liberally drowned his nachos.
"The gas station looks like an earthquake hit it," Dipper reported. "And most of the cars had popped tires. I guess they must've floated up and then crashed back down." He took a cheese pizza slice and offered the box to Ford. "Nobody I asked saw the Axolotl."
Ford glanced at Bill, expecting him to have some kind of comment on that; but Bill just grunted "Mm," focused on the chess game like he thought he'd be killed if he glanced away.
Dipper pointed out when Bill pulled an illegal move, Ford explained the new rules they were playing by, and Dipper settled down to watch. He tried to razz Bill the next time he lost; but Bill made such a pathetic figure that he couldn't even enjoy making fun of him and quickly gave up.
During the next game, Bill unexpectedly slid a pawn backward diagonally to take out Ford's queen. While Ford was silently fuming over the loss of his most powerful piece, Dipper hazarded, "Can pawns capture both forward and backward?" That would have been Ford's guess too.
But Bill simply said, "No."
Dipper mumbled, "Huh," lost focus on the game, and stared off into the distance, murmuring something under his breath. He kept getting lost in his thoughts today. Ford supposed nobody in this hiking party was in the best mental state.
Maybe pawns could move like bishops? But when Ford tried to slide one diagonally across the board, Bill said, "That's illegal," and Ford returned it to its original spot. There was some hidden condition he was missing. Maybe which color square the pawn was on? Or maybe it was like en passant, you could only capture an enemy piece backwards if that was the first time the enemy piece moved?
When the game was over—Ford won, but Bill had held out longer than usual—Ford asked, "All right, what was the new rule?"
"Pawns can capture forward and backward." While Ford and Dipper stared at him in mute outrage, Bill ignored them to casually shift his posture from kneeling—his knees had gotten sore—to lotus position, and said, "Next game?" as though he couldn't even be bothered to notice the humans' fury.
"But that's exactly what we said!" Ford snapped. "You lied to me!"
"No," Bill said, "I lied to the kid. I'm not playing against the kid. Why are you paying attention to what I tell him?"
Dipper demanded, "How is that fair? Anyone listening would think—"
But he fell silent when Ford laughed. "Of course," Ford said. "I should have expected that. Any loophole you can find. That's part of the game to you, isn't it."
Bill gave Ford an unsettlingly knowing look; and Ford supposed it was part of the game to him, too.
(Somewhere in the back of Bill's foggy mind, he kept count: three times. Before today, Bill wasn't sure he'd heard Ford laugh once this summer. What changed? What was Bill doing differently? Maybe Ford only liked him when he was completely broken.)
It took until halfway through the next game for Ford to realize Bill had moved his legs.
####
Over Ford's protests that they should wait until his strength was back, Bill insisted they get moving immediately. He'd rather be locked in the shack again than spend one more minute sitting by the lake.
"I hate being surrounded by trees. Why do humans like nature so much. This is miserable." Caked in mud, still wearing a towel like a skirt, teetering with exhaustion, Bill certainly looked like the most miserable camper to ever exist. "I cannot begin to tell you how sick I am of looking at pines."
Ford wondered whether the pun was intentional.
Bill's limbs were weak and uncoordinated. He could twitch his left fingers when asked, but his grip strength was nonexistent and the arm hung limply at his side when he wasn't actively trying to use it. His legs moved, but when he tried to get to his feet he collapsed back into the mud. But he thought he could probably stand with support. He ignored the hand Ford offered and crawled to the nearest tree to lean on as he got to his feet. Ford could see Bill's knees tremble.
"I don't need your help," Bill grumbled. "I can stand fine on my own."
Ford wouldn't argue with Bill's definition of fine. "But can you walk?"
"I could." He couldn't even make the lie convincing.
"Then be my guest."
"I'm saving my strength."
It would almost be funny if he wasn't being such an inconvenience. "Well, you're here and the boat is over there." Ford gestured. The shore was much further away than it had been yesterday. "If you can't walk, then you're either crawling or you're getting help. Which you'd prefer is between you and your dignity."
Bill's face reddened. "Don't talk to me about my dignity, like you've ever cared about my dignity..." He twisted around to inspect the tree behind him, tired gaze looking over the branches—maybe he was planning to break off a walking stick? He attempted to grab a thin branch that wouldn't serve as a walking stick for a toddler. He wasn't strong enough to break it off. He kept trying.
They were never getting to the boat. "Please let me help."
"Go jump in a lake. Again."
How did Ford handle this without prodding at Bill's bruised ego? "Consider it my thanks for—ah..." Ford cleared his throat. "For actually telling the truth about the eclipse. In spite of... what was no doubt immense temptation to lie like a cheap rug. Since we didn't believe you anyway." He had averted his gaze in embarrassment; he forced himself to face Bill like a man. Bill was actually looking at him again. "And for not chucking my gnephew's body off the cliff when you had the opportunity." The bar was so low it was on the ground, and yet it was still impressive that Bill hadn't found a way to dig under it. "And... for saving my life."
Bill set his jaw tight, as if he didn't like being reminded of his moment of decency; but he said, "Fine, get over here." He held out his good arm. "Help your hero and savior limp triumphantly off the field of battle."
When Ford offered his hand, Bill ignored it, and practically snarled when Ford tried to wrap it around his waist for support. Rather than putting his arm over Ford's shoulders, Bill seized a wad of fabric near the collar of Ford's t-shirt as a handhold to hang his weight from. Ford felt less like he was supporting Bill, and more like he'd just gotten in trouble and his father was marching him into the living room by his collar to give him a stern talking-to.
"First time you've ever thanked me for anything I've done for you," Bill muttered. Ford told himself he could drop Bill once they were on the boat.
Dipper was completely zoned out, waiting on the boat staring off in the direction the Axolotl had flown. He didn't react as Bill sat next to him, and Bill didn't acknowledge he existed. Ford started the motor, and they crossed the lake toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle.
####
(You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to post this chapter. Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear what you think, and I hope those of y'all who have been waiting for Bill to cry like a baby are satisfied.)
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devildogdemon · 7 months ago
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YOU DID IT 👏👏👏 AND IT’S DELICIOUSLY RIDDLED WITH TEEN PRETENTIOUS ANGST BRILLIANCE 🙌
High School AU Peeta Mellark listens to Iris by Goo Goo Dolls and leans his head against the bus window like he's in a music video.
#listening to this in the morning pretending im on the bus to school dreading my geometry test results#along with how lonely the world is and not to make a fool of myself in front of my crush again#oh wait my crush doesn’t notice me at all. crisis averted 🥲#open your eyes you are peak desperate pining mixed with inferiority complex for our boy#peeta was totally doing this at a time when facebook automatically shared your music history without your knowledge or consent#and rye sees it and is about to ROAST his little brother’s dramatic ass#until he then sees katniss’ history and she’s listening to the same fucking thing#and he smiled and thinks those two dorks#imagine him walking down the hall and seeing peeta and katniss doing the awkward small talk game#then rye gets down on his knees reaches out to both of them and raucously sings#AND I DONT WANT THE WORLD TO SEE ME#and then they both go wide-eyed and scoot away down opposite hallways#don’t worry you two it’ll make for a great icebreaker when you’re paired up together next class 🥰#then peeta rides the bus home remarkedly less emo then he did on the way (while still listening to this ridiculous yet amazing playlist)#as soon as he enters the house rye tries to get at him again with the linkin park#but peeta is unfazed bc his study partner who’s house he’s going over to tomorrow for a session loves them too!#and rye’s like: mission accomplished 😏#guess I owe the perpetually terrific triassictriserratops more of this since I passed my exam 🎉#I’ve only started on basic character profiles but this playlist has helped with that tenfold after one listen#beautiful start to finish#honored to contribute as a former silly sad teenage boi#now just minus the teenage 🙃#triassictriserratops#playlist
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temmtamm · 28 days ago
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Yandere bill cipher x a geometry nerd.
“Ugh, why do I always get the weird creepy nerds?”
To be honest, after Ford, he never thought he’d get someone gullible enough to be his little host again. After all, nobody before Ford really liked or cared for him, and it was unlikely to get struck with lightning twice, yet here you walk in, all bright eyed, bushy tailed, and just happy to be here.
It’s almost cute how naive you are. And don’t think he won’t appreciate the gushing, because he will. Very much.
Occasionally, if he’s feeling nice, he’ll let you study his, his measurements, etc, etc. Usually, however he hates it when someone’s touching him, especially when he didn’t initiate…But, he can turn the other cheek for now. He’s nothing if not unpredictable.
The Yandere tendencies will probably come in once you start neglecting your portal duties, when people start giving you the time of day. I mean, don’t tell me you actually LIKE those fleshbags?? They’re a mushy pile of organs, barely held together by skin—But him?? He’s the full blown package, baby!! Sides, edges and all!
He’ll find out what you want from a relationship, or more specifically, how to replace your lovers.
You want affection?? Fine. He’ll let you hold him when you go to sleep—ONLY if you start working on the portal again.
You want attention?? He can talk all day. He’ll give you so much you’ll beg him to stop.
You want to feel…wanted and desired..? Hmm…
It had been a long, tiresome day. To say you were exhausted and drained would be an understatement.
Your legs ached, your chest burned, not to mention the stinging feeling of sleep persisting just behind your eyelids.
The idea of curling up in your bed and going to sleep sounded like bliss—Hell, if you were lucky, maybe you’d be able to see your little geometric friend again before you did.
Unfortunately, the warmth and comfort was not what you were greeted with when you came home.
Blood.
There was so…much…blood. Everywhere. It even reached up to the ceiling—How the hell did it reach up to the ceiling?!
And…there was a surprising lack of your pet. Not even the usual yips and noise you would hear from them when you came home.
Your living room was completely rearranged, as if it had been flipped upside down, with all your furniture now on the ceiling, leaving the floor empty save for a dining table caked in the same blood that the walls were. It had a white tarp hastily thrown over it, with the foul stench of death being an all too present sensation when they stepped closer to the table.
Glasses sat on the table, made out of human hands, with a trail of dead rats leading up to the table, like how one would lay out rose petals.
Who…
Who the hell would do this?!
“Hey there, four-eyes!! Finally you come to join the party!” (Y/N) froze, their blood running cold at the all too familiar voice of Bill.
No…No way he did that.
You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, with it churning. With your heart in your throat, you finally managed out some words to your trigonometric friend, “What…What the hell did you do..??”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Bill just beamed, his eye creasing into a crescent as he did.
“I want you.”
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pandapetals · 1 month ago
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First Day Jitters
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professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, you are a english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
Flashback before you two got married. It's Logan's first day as a teacher and you give him a lucky pen since he is nervous.
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
Logan never thought he’d end up teaching, let alone standing in front of a classroom full of students eager to learn about history. Hell, he still wasn’t convinced it was a good idea. He’d lived through more of it than most textbooks could cover, but that didn’t mean he knew how to explain it in neat, digestible lessons. Yet here he was—Xavier’s latest idea, no doubt convinced by the same reasoning that had gotten him to stick around the mansion in the first place.
It was his first day as a professor, and Logan hated to admit it, but he was nervous.
He frowned at his reflection in the mirror, rubbing the back of his neck. The white-gray streaks in his hair were a little more noticeable than he’d like today, not that he cared much about appearances. But something about standing in front of a bunch of fresh-faced students made him feel older than he usually did. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, already regretting the stiff, buttoned-up look. This wasn’t him.
Storm and Scott—hell, even you—made teaching seem like the easiest thing in the world. You had the confidence, the charisma. You could talk about Shakespeare or Hemingway and have a classroom hanging on your every word. Logan, on the other hand, could barely imagine keeping their attention long enough to get through the syllabus.
With a low grunt, he gave his reflection one last, unimpressed look. He had no idea how the day would go, but at least there was something to look forward to: you.
Your classroom was right across the hall, and despite having known you for a while, Logan hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to make a real move. The two of you had always had this easy back-and-forth, full of teasing and subtle glances that lingered just a little too long. He could sense you liked him—he was good at picking up on that sort of thing—but something held him back. Maybe it was the thought of disappointing you. Or maybe it was the idea that someone like you, with all your grace and cleverness, deserved better than a gruff old man.
As he shrugged on his jacket, the door to his office creaked open, and there you were, leaning against the doorframe with that easy smile of yours, the one that always managed to throw him off his game just a little.
"Nervous?" you asked, your voice teasing but gentle, your eyes bright with amusement. You knew him well enough by now to see through his gruff exterior, especially on a day like this.
Logan scoffed, turning to grab his bag. "Nah. It’s just teachin’. Nothin’ to it," he grumbled, though the tightness in his jaw gave him away. He slung the bag over his shoulder, trying to play it cool, but his hand lingered on the strap, betraying the anxious energy simmering beneath the surface.
You stepped further into the room, crossing your arms as you watched him. "Right, of course," you said, your voice laced with sarcasm. "Because you’ve clearly got this whole professor thing down on day one."
He shot you a look, half-amused, half-annoyed, but didn’t argue. You took a step closer, your tone softening. "You’re going to be fine, Logan. You know more about history than anyone I’ve ever met. Besides, if Scott can manage to teach teenagers about geometry without setting himself on fire, you can handle this."
He huffed out a laugh, but it didn’t completely shake off the tension in his shoulders. You caught it, your eyes narrowing slightly as you gave him that knowing look of yours.
"Here," you said suddenly, reaching into your bag. "I’ve got something for you."
Logan raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself, as you pulled out a pen—a sleek, simple one that looked a little too fancy to belong to someone like him. You held it out to him, grinning. "This is one of my lucky pens. Take it with you. You know, for good luck."
He stared at the pen, then at you, his eyebrow inching higher. "Lucky pens, huh? Didn’t peg you for the superstitious type," he muttered, but there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze.
You shrugged, still holding the pen out toward him. "I’m not, really. But it’s worked for me in some tight spots. And, besides…" You leaned in just a little, lowering your voice. "It’ll give you something to think about when you’re in there, pretending not to be nervous."
Logan felt his lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile, but he kept his gruff demeanor intact. "I don’t need luck," he grumbled, but after a moment, he took the pen from your hand, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. He pocketed it quickly as if the small, intimate gesture had caught him off guard.
You gave him a knowing smile, stepping back, clearly pleased with yourself. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, tough guy."
Logan shook his head, trying to suppress the warmth that spread through him at the sight of your smile. "You should get to your class before I regret takin’ that pen."
You laughed softly, the sound light and easy, before heading toward the door. "Good luck, Professor Howlett," you teased over your shoulder, winking at him as you disappeared into the hallway.
Logan stood there for a second longer than he needed to, the room feeling a little emptier now that you’d left. He patted the front pocket of his jacket, feeling the smooth edge of the pen nestled inside. He scoffed under his breath—luck, yeah right—but his fingers curled around it, holding onto it just a little tighter than necessary.
As he made his way to his first class, Logan kept his usual stoic expression in place, but he couldn’t quite shake the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The students waiting inside the room wouldn’t know it, but tucked in his pocket was a little piece of you, a reminder that maybe he had more going for him today than just his knowledge of history.
If he was being honest with himself, that was all the luck he needed.
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riordanness · 11 months ago
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fictional — [p.jackson]
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pairing: percy jackson x reader
wordcount: 2.1K
warnings: none
‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’
I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.
Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.
I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.
Percy Jackson.
I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.
I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.
The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.
“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”
“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”
Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.
“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”
“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.
“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”
“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”
Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”
I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”
And even Andie can’t argue with that.
I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.
I perk up, though, when I hear something new.
“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”
Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.
A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.
I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.
Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.
The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.
This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.
And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.
The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”
I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.
“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”
I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.
I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”
The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.
“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”
I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.
Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”
I just stare at him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.
“Your name is Percy Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.
Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”
I nod slowly. “Of course.”
Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”
My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”
Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”
I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”
Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”
It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.
I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.
The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.
The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.
It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.
Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.
The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.
“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”
Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.
I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”
Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”
“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”
“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”
I relax. “It’s okay.”
I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.
“What are you thinking about, love?”
“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”
Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”
“You don’t have plans?” he asks.
I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.
“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.
“Wait,” I say. “What?”
“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”
“You aren’t saying no.”
“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”
Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”
I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.
“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”
I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.
“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.
Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”
I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”
“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.
And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.
Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.
The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.
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