#i'm projecting something here but nobody gets to know what
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⋆.˚ ☁︎ TEENAGE DREAM ☁︎︎ ⋆.˚
—sometimes at eighteen, young love is anything but a teenage dream.
genres・fluff // young love // awkward confessions // meet cutes. summary・love is embarrassing, especially when you're in high school. from the cozy coffee shop to the local campus, eight boys stumble through the awkward world of crushes—trying, and failing to confess to you.
a/n・I haven't been on here for a little while, but I wanted to do something silly and fun to celebrate 500 amazing followers! All of these ideas are still in the works, so the plots may change, but I'm having so much fun writing them. I get hit with a pang of nostalgia every once in a while, remembering my very first fanfiction, haha. If you want to be tagged in any of these, just comment down below or send me an ask—and always remember to support your content creators; it means the world to us!!
☁︎︎ COFFEE CUP ☁︎︎
BANG CHAN loved being a barista; not only did he get exceptional employee discounts but it was peaceful—he handed people their coffee, they said thank you and walked away—nobody ever bothered him. that is, until one night, ten minutes before closing, you walked in with your bright smile and garrulous chit-chat. It only took you one sentence to have him hooked, eagerly waiting for your next late-night visit. what is bang chan going to do when he finally works up the nerve to write his number on the sleeve of your coffee cup, only for you to toss it away without ever seeing it? (coming to your shelves December 10th)
☁︎︎ ROSE ☁︎︎
LEE KNOW was famous for being the star quarterback turned heartless bachelor—or so everybody thought. nobody could have guessed that the reason minho chased every woman away was because, hidden 60 miles from home, there was the animal shelter where he volunteered. the reason he drove an hour every day to nurture abused pets? you. what is minho going to do when, no matter how many roses he gives you, you just can’t take the hint? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ MOTORCYCLE ☁︎︎
︎SEO CHANGBIN. there’s nothing he loves more than his motorcycle—well, that’s not entirely true. he probably loves you more, but his motorcycle is certainly a close second. with prom looming, changbin finally gathers enough courage to ask out his long-time crush and childhood best friend. what is changbin going to do when, halfway through, he chickens out—and, in a panic, ends up ramming his motorcycle into your mailbox while trying to back out of your driveway? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ MY MUSE ☁︎︎
HWANG HYUNJIN has been in love with you for about as long as he’s understood the word love; stuck in the seat beside you since elementary school, hyunjin grew to adore the soft curves of your features. one day, in the middle of art class, he's struck with the urge to draw you. overcome with the fear of never getting the chance to tell you how he feels, hyunjin stuffs the picture in your locker. what is hyunjin going to do when he overhears you talking to your friends about the drawing—and you mention his enemy's name, and not his? (coming to your shelves soon...)︎︎
☁︎︎ LYRIC BOOK ☁
HAN JISUNG is dedicated to securing the top spot in his songwriting class, and nothing is going to stand in his way. that was, until three years ago, when you walked through the door, head held high, speaking of your goals as if they were already part of the present. jisung never thought there would be any competition—until there was. now, he doesn’t know whether to write songs about his overwhelming hatred or his overwhelming ardor. what is jisung going to do when, one day, you’re paired with him for a project, and you discover all the love songs he’s written about you? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ SUGAR AND SPICE ☁︎︎
LEE FELIX, the school's sunshine, the universe’s fallen star—nothing was going to get him down. well, except for you. no matter how hard he tries, felix just can’t form a sentence around you; his tongue twisting into sailor’s knots whenever you look his way. what is felix going to do when he tries to confess through a cake, baked fresh in the culinary class you share, but trips over his shoelaces and smears the cake all over your shirt instead? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ BASEBALL ☁
KIM SEUNGMIN worked with a focus nobody else seemed to reciprocate, constantly practicing to be the best pitcher this world has ever seen. his teammates respected him, his coach loved him, and the school only ever saw his poised manners—not the awkward teenager he really was. that is, until he meets you—equally shy and almost as painfully awkward, studying on the bleachers every day after school. there's something about your concentration, the self- assured direction you set for yourself, that makes him want you even more. what is he going to do when, one day after practice, he scrawls his number on a ball and chucks it toward you? and for once, the ball doesn’t go where he aimed. instead of landing in your lap, he nails you right in the forehead. (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ THE BOOK WAS BETTER ☁︎︎
YANG JEONGIN lived in the library. on the days when he wasn’t cramming for an exam, he was relaxing with a good book. the library had always been peaceful for him—a sanctuary that students rarely ever touched. that is, until one random morning, he sees you walk in—captain of the cheerleading squad, with your tiny skirt and sparkly eyelids, jeongin almost expects you to laugh at him and his pathetic seating arrangement—all alone. but then, checking to see if anyone’s watching, you pull a book from the shelf, and begin to read it. that's how it started—now, every day during lunch, you come and read your book, safe in the shadows, creating a home nobody else knew about. what is he going to do when he starts falling for you, through the notes he slips into your book after you leave? And what will happen when the wrong girl comes in and tries to take the book? (coming to your shelves soon...)
a special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who helped me flesh out all these ideas. I couldn't do any of this without you!! I hope you like these stories <33
#stray kids x reader#stray kids#skz x reader#skz#felix x reader#lee felix x reader#bangchan x reader#hyunjin x reader#stray kids x y/n#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#han jisung x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids oneshot#stray kids blurb
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It took me a while to stop crying and resolve to help people who will be targeted (starting 1/20/25). I am also trying to reconnect to even a scrap of joy, by tiptoeing back into writing. But...I keep analyzing my WIPs through the lens of how That Guy will be making half the country feel, wondering, "Is X funny enough? Is Y topic too serious?" Help?! Is it worth writing/querying anything that's not totally escapist? Are there genres that should just stay in a drawer right now?
No need to wait until January to help people! :-)
As to the writing piece: I think you are overthinking it. And hey, I get that! Half the country is still somewhat in "reeling mode", it hasn't even been a month, no need to make any huge decisions or change the course of your writing life or fret about queries that you aren't ready to send anyway right this second. Give yourself some grace. Do some deep breathing.
Nobody knows what the future will bring.
Hey, maybe people will want to read more than they ever have and publishing will thrive across all genres. Maybe there will be an unforeseen trend of books about cowboys in space or something that will make a genre flourish that we haven't ever even thought of before!
Or, maybe the tarriffs will eff publishing up so badly we won't need to worry about ANY genres anymore. Maybe he'll sell us all to Daddy Vladdy for a nickel or start Civil War II and we'll all have to become resistance fighters. (Or, maybe we'll get lucky and the meteor will come; that might be better, because I don't have much to offer in the way of actual resistance fighting unless the troops need children's books or cookies!)
But since none of those lines of thinking are particularly helpful or healthy, maybe let's not focus on speculating about all the random possible scenarios. It's too much! Your brain will break!
Here's what is within your purview: YOUR LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD. That includes your work, yes, but also your home, your family, your personal behavior and habits, your physical and mental health, and the well-being of your communities (both literal, like, the people who live near you, and figurative, the people near you or even across the country or the globe with whom you have shared values, etc)
I'm not an expert obvs, but I do feel like, when I stop "reeling" and thinking about whatever bizzaro outrage some politician is perpetrating and start thinking about what tangible things I can do to help support MY LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD, I feel a lot better. More useful.
(Like, how about instead of doomscrolling, I actually take that time and put my impotent rage to use pulling out the dying tomato plants and getting the yard ready for winter? How about instead of crying into my pillow, I gather a bunch of stuff to donate to a local charity? OH LOOK, I FORGOT ABOUT THE NEWS FOR A WHILE AND GOT THINGS DONE AND MADE MY CORNER OF THE WORLD BETTER! And now I'm tired and can take a nice shower and watch something silly on TV and go to sleep! Yay!)
What I'm saying is, AFTER you do the deep breathing and give yourself grace and all that stuff -- maybe DON'T think about your WIPS through the lens of "OMG what horror show is that freak in the white house doing" or "what will random terrible people think about what I'm doing" -- but rather, think, how do *I* feel about what I'm doing?
We have limited time on this earth -- do you WANT to spend your time on this? Will working on this bring you joy? Does the idea of writing it excite you? Will it reading it bring other people in your communities joy, or hope, or escapism, or important information, or inspiration, or *something else positive*? Those are the kinds of projects you should focus on, imo.
Obviously I have no clue what "Trends" will be coming up in the future, or what the publishing landscape or the world will look like at all -- but I DO SUSPECT that what we will need the most is books that bring something positive to the table. Whether that means a book full of pure delight/escapist entertainment, or reminders about what is beautiful in the world and special about humanity, or tools to help people enact change, or fuel for the next generation of rebels and resistance fighters, or whatever it is.
And, I think that "something positive" could come in the form of fiction, nonfiction, and pretty much ANY genre or category.
(Probably not a great time for extremely bleak / hopeless books, and certainly not a great time for books that you yourself are not passionate about. Writing and publishing is hard enough - don't do the projects that are a misery on top of all that!)
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answering a couple questions i got on this post since i realized ppl genuinely wanna know:
tl;dr:
israel lets very, very little aid get into gaza. even the UN can't get in as much as they want to. funding individual families, gazan led initiatives, and mutual aid collectives operating out of gaza ensures gazans can provide for themselves and pay for the extremely expensive aid that is available.
with all the civil infrastructure destroyed by israel, the situation on the ground has devolved into unrestricted capitalism, driving up the price of aid (that should be free!). this makes it more urgent for people to have funding for daily survival.
the post linked above has examples of how donating to individual families can help a lot. if you want to help more than one family at a time, there are many gazan-led initiatives focusing on rebuilding their infrastructure and distributing aid fairly that are worth donating to instead of large charities that already get the majority of donations.
as i mentioned in the last post: @/careforgaza on twitter is a nonprofit started by gazans, it's been endorsed by multiple palestinian journalists.
the sameer project is a collective organized by diaspora palestinians offering emergency shelter to gazans.
ele elna elak is a project aiming to bring water, food, shelter, etc. to gazans and has been promoted by bisan owda.
and the municipality of gaza itself is fundraising to rebuild water infrastructure.
all of these organizations are active inside gaza right now and are being run by gazans. if anyone knows of other gazan-led mutual aid projects, nonprofits or charities feel free to link them in the notes! hope this helped!
long answers under the cut!
if you wanna donate to a charity that's absolutely fine, but the thing is most charities (and even the UN!) are unable to make it into gaza in the first place, leaving aid rotting at the egyptian side of the border or subject to israeli settler attacks
not to mention, charities and nonprofits also maintain a paternalistic colonial relationship with the indigenous people they are trying to help, determining what aid they need for them instead of returning power to them and letting them make their own choices
i'm not here to say that one option is better than the other, just that they achieve different things and are equally legitimate. there's an attitude among people who question the legitimacy of these gofundme campaigns that somehow the people promoting them are telling them not to donate to charities. nobody is stopping you from donating to charities. we are just asking that you do not dehumanize the very real gazans in your inbox just because their method of asking for aid is more direct and risky.
unfortunately that's exactly what has happened. because israel destroyed all of gaza's more formalized infrastructure, it seems that organized crime and rampant inflation has taken its place. aid is supposed to be free, but in order to save for evacuation or the cost of living, people have started selling them at an inflated price. and aid that is truly free attracts intense, large crowds that are dangerous to navigate.
this was posted on abc a few days ago
it's pure, unrestrained capitalism. i've had multiple palestinians describe this situation to me confidence. that's why everything's so expensive now. why people have to rent out tiny plots of land for their tents to sit on, why my friend @siraj2024 still has to buy tarps to cover the broken windows of the overpriced bombed out apartment he rented, and why a bag of flour can cost a thousand bucks in the north.
even before israel closed and then bombed the rafah crossing, the egyptian hala travel agency was only allowing people to cross the border if they paid a hefty $5000 USD per adult / $2500 USD per child bribe. it denies doing this, but the hundreds of stories from palestinians say otherwise.
with regard to the economy, here in america we saw something similar happen in the wake of hurricane helene and milton. the podcaster margaret killjoy describes how she saw dual economies rise after asheville was fully cut off from the rest of the country - some people offered each other supplies for free in a sort of mutual aid honor system, and some people required payment when they lent supplies because they themselves needed to buy stuff for their families. these dual economies exist in gaza too. and this means they all still need money to survive.
#og#palestine#palestine resources#gaza#free palestine#free gaza#gaza strip#save palestine#i stand with palestine#all eyes on palestine#palestine genocide#gaza genocide#donations
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The wonders of ink
Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley
‘Fred and George prank you by getting your clothes dirty, only to take you to the bathrooms to help you clean off’
A/N: I decided to repost (so nobody thought I was dead). I’ve been gone for so long and I feel guilty so I decided to deliver smut upon you all haha. My dear sister helped me to write this (Her Wattpad account is @Darkness_Donut. Feel free to give her a look if you’re in the Wattpad area)
T/W: Unprotected sex, The twins being kinda pervy, Groping, Double penetration
Fred and George put a lot of work into every prank.
Whether it was as simple as a ‘Hex Me’ note on Ron’s back or as sophisticated as creating a new type of chocolate that caused facial warts.
Not only did they put work into their pranks, but they also put pride into them. Each one was like their child, born and sent into the world to cause mischief. The prank they planned for you, however, was less like a prank and more like a plot for something even better than the typical annoyed scowl the pranks were usually met with.
While other students prepared for various classes and homework projects, Fred and George would stay locked in their dorm, perfecting the key catalyst for their interaction with you.
The twins were head over heels in love with you. While most people would approach you with a normal greeting and a proposition for a date, the twins needed to do more. Go big or go home was practically their motto. So when their newest creation was ready, all they had to do was wait for the perfect moment.
____________________________________________
You had been in the courtyard. Your nose stuck in the book that was cradled in your hands. So unsuspecting and sweet. The way the wind blew your hair, how your eyes were glued to the words.
George approached you, not too close that you’d notice but close enough that he could start phase one of the plan. He pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside a dark blue that stained the glass. He took a deep breath before uncorking the bottle and taking a step closer, ‘tripping’ over the tree branch and spilling the liquid over your uniform.
You squealed and moved the book aside, looking between the fresh stain and the redhead who threw it on you.
“George! What in Merlin's beard have you done?!”
George just shrugged his shoulders, putting on an apologetic look. The same look he gave his mum when she scolded him for putting a spell on Percy’s breakfast which caused the sausages to spout legs.
“I didn’t mean too, honest. I just kinda…tripped”
You did not look pleased, understandably so. George almost felt guilty but then he remembered the plan. It was all going smoothly, even if you might disagree.
“I feel awful. How about we go to the Prefects bathroom and get you cleaned up before it dries?”
With a sigh, you followed George.
The walk to the prefect's bathroom was filled with you grumbling about the stain and scolding George for not being careful. The bathroom was empty (all thanks to a little spell that temporarily made the door disappear). The baths were filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles, steam dampening the air.
Fred emerged from around one of the pillars, smirking as he looked you up and down.
“Good job, George. I knew you could get our girl here. You know, love, you should really clean up that stain. Wouldn’t want Snape taking away our hard earned points, now would you?”
George moved closer to you, his chest barely touching your back. Fred leaned against the pillar, staring at the black spot on your shirt. You crossed your arms, letting out a huff. You could practically see the burning desire in Fred’s eyes from across the room, the heat from George sneaking through the back of your shirt and warming your skin.
“You’d both like that, huh? Why don’t I just have a bath while I'm at it?”
George ignored your sarcastic tone and leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, sweetheart. We’ll get you nice and clean”.
Something about George’s soft tone caused your hands to rise to your top button, both sets of eyes glued to your fingers as they popped open the first button of many. One by one, your shirt slowly opened. The shirt had luckily (or unluckily) caught the liquid and stopped it from seeping through to your bra and skin underneath.
George helped you to slip the fabric from off your body before Fred stepped closer and took it from him. He held it up with a smirk.
“There’s nothing here, love. Maybe you just wanted to get naked for us”.
The white shirt was clean. Not a spot or stain in sight. The sight of your wide eyes and confused look made Fred chuckle. George rubbed your arms.
“Our newest prank, disappearing ink. We heard Harry talking about how his idiot muggle cousin had some so we wanted to make our own. We made it especially for you”.
Your hand darted out to snatch the fabric from Fred, smoothing your fingers over the fabric that was once stained to see if it was really gone. Both boys watched as your expression turned from confusion to shock to a mix of desire and anger. You were angry that the twins had tricked you and pulled you away from your book but you couldn’t help but feel hot at the thought that they made an ink just to get you in your bra. Maybe a reward for all their hard work wouldn’t be so bad.
George tugged on the bra clasp, his lips ghosting down your neck before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, but you didn't push him away. Fred toyed with the hem of your skirt, watching as your eyes glazed over with desperation.
“I need you both. Please make me feel good”
Fred tugged your skirt up, using his other hand to trace his fingers over the elastic of your underwear. He slowly trails your underwear down your smooth legs and helps you step out of them so your dripping folds are on display to him. As you look upon their faces, both of them lick their bottom lips in unison. George finally pulls your bra off, tossing it with your discarded shirt.
How could you look so innocent in just your skirt with your tits out? To the twins, you were like a graceful doe who wandered into the hunters' den. George practically growled as his hands groped your tits, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Your eyes closed and you let out a whimper that was sweeter than any sugary treat from Honeydukes.
Fred took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, shimmying them down enough to pull his cock out. Every noise that escaped your lips made it jerk in his hand. He stepped closer, his tip pressing snugly against your clit and leaving a splodge of precum. His hand wrapped around your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip while George held you upright. His head speared through your folds, your slick coating his shaft.
“Do you want this, love? You want me inside of you? Maybe we should see if that tight little hole can handle Georgie and I at the same time. I can feel how wet that makes you, Sweetheart. The thought of taking two cocks, we’d break that sweet pussy open”
George tugged at your earlobe with your teeth, only pulling back when a whine bubbled up from your throat.
“I think you want us to ruin you for other men”
Your voice couldn't have been more than a whisper, but it was filled with every dirty promise and beg that would only be privy to the twins’ ears.
“I want you two. I want other guys to look at me and know that I belong to you”
“Sweetheart, you already belong to us”
George moved his hand down to push his trousers down and pull his cock out, pressing it at your entrance before pulling you against him. His cock slid inside of you, your warm cunt hugging his shaft.
Fred brushed his fingertips against your clit, taking in the sight of your hole stretched around his brother's cock. It was gonna be a tight fit. He nudged at your entrance, his tip trying to find a space big enough to squeeze into. With a bit more persistence, he was pushing forward, the desperation to be buried inside of you fueling him.
You tried to stay still, trying not to squirm or clench. The stretch was so intense that you swore you could even feel the blood pumping through the veins decorating their shafts. Every pulse, every nudge felt like it would rip you in two.
When Fred’s tip finally pushed through the small opening, the squealed moan that left your lips was enough for George to press his hand to your lips to muffle any sound. As much as they loved the noises you were making, they couldn’t get suspended so close to graduating. There would always be other occasions to hear your pretty moans.
The sight was one to behold. The twins wished they could photograph your pussy stuffed with both of their cocks and frame it, only to watch the replay over and over.
An obscene squelching filled the room as they repeatedly stuffed their cocks into you. The stretch brings you closer to the edge than ever before. Your walls clenched, trying to both push their cocks out and pull them deeper. It didn't take long before you were cumming, clenching around them in a desperate need to be full of their cum.
George's hand stayed over your mouth, his lips whispering sweet praises in your ear. Fred lips were pressed against your forehead, giving chaste kisses here and there. Their groans echoed throughout the room when they felt you cum around them. You felt too good to be true. It took them 3 months to make that ink.
It was worth every single minute.
A mix of their cum flooded your insides, but there was so much that it started spilling out. But they didn't pull out just yet. With how much effort went into getting you between them, they were gonna make this last for as long as possible. It was only after they came down from their high that they noticed just how much of a mess you all made. Cum spots stained your skirt and their trousers. Fred’s chuckle caught your attention.
“Maybe we should clean you up for real this time”
#george weasley#george weasley fic#george weasley x fem#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x you#george weasley smut#fred weasley#fred weasley smut#george wealsey x reader#george weasley headcanon#fred weasely x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasly x reader#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasley fic#fred weasley headcanons#george weasely smut#george weasly x reader#weasley twins smut#weasley twins
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so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing
basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems
anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is
also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao
also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't
---
"You're going to fail my class, Munson."
"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.
Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."
He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."
"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"
"Not the first time."
Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."
"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.
"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."
"What student?"
"His name is Steve."
Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.
He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.
"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"
"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."
Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."
--------
On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.
One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.
Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.
He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.
Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.
What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.
"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.
Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.
The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"
Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.
Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.
"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"
"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.
"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."
"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."
"You could've just memorized that."
Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."
Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."
"1,617."
He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."
"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"
"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."
"You don't know Newton's laws?"
Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.
"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"
"It's just...some equation or some shit."
Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"
"What?"
"What do you like?"
Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."
Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"
"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."
Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."
"A what?"
"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."
Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."
"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"
"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."
"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."
"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.
"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."
"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.
"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"
"Yeah, kind of the whole point."
"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"
"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"
Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."
"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."
"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."
"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."
Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"
"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."
"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."
"By...strumming it?"
"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."
He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."
Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."
"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"
"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.
Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."
"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.
"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."
"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."
"Why not?"
"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."
"Does anyone else know, though?"
"My parents and the teachers. And you."
"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."
"Big boy?"
"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.
Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.
He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."
#my writing#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#smart steve harrington#pre-season 1#y'all don't understand i have a whole 5+1 idea in my head about this#well you do understand if you read the OG post actually lmao#but there's MORE that's the point i'm making here#but i wanted this little set up first#just cuz i love pre-show meetings#and steve cutting off the munson doctrine before it can even begin#also unrelated but do y'all ever think about how the entire world really is just science and math and that's incredible#even art is science or math at its core and science and math are art themselves
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Forgive me if I'm mistaking you for another person, but I remember you speaking at multiple points on the unsustainability of free social media services (I think especially in response to the cohost collapse?), and I'm curious on what your thoughts on bluesky are so far. I'm not an expert on the subject, but from what I've read previously it seemed like they were on track to be financially sustainable, but I don't know if the recent floods of users has thrown those projections off. Sorry if I'm mixing you up with someone else on my timeline, in that case just ignore me.
bluesky will almost certainly follow the same trajectory of monetisation => bloat => enshittification => decline as every other major platform built on venture capital and user hoarding. it's a terrible model that only works in the short term as a mirage for attracting funding and making founders look good for a year or two before they sell.
you can see the same effect in the decline of all the subscription box services that came into vogue just before covid: they feel great to use for as long as the initial injection of venture funding lasts, because the purpose of that funding at that stage is to attract users and impress the next round of funders with how pleasant/intuitive/efficient/ethical/good value the service is. that's the stage where they're handing out freebies and bowling over influencers, and every ingredient in the box is fresh and high quality and locally sourced. wow what a good deal, what a great system!!! why hasn't anyone done this before? the answer is because it's unsustainable by design. they rack up good reviews, sign on a billion new users, attract new funding from a bunch of much more credulous investors, and then gut all of the expensive parts. portions get smaller, ingredients get worse, packaging gets flimsier, prices go up, freebies turn into "5% off your first 9 boxes when you invite 3 friends", and customer service vanishes.
with social media (and platforms like discord) the logic is the same, it's just a little less glaringly obvious to the end user because they're not coming home to leaking packages of rancid chicken on the doorstep. bluesky has an advantage over tiny operations like cohost because it was founded by a billionaire making a point for the sake of his own image. it got a really significant chunk of startup funding, and the owner had existing connections and rep in the space to attract more. That's why it has survived the goldrush period, why it still feels good to use, and why users who have been burned so many times before are finally accepting it as a stable, reliable option. It's still in its venture capital honeymoon phase where the only thing worth spending money on is making the service attractive to users.
What I expect we will see next, with another mass influx of users from twitter and new funding from a rogue's gallery of tech venture sickos led by Blockchain Capital is a strong ramp up into monetising that userbase. They've already been pretty forthright about how they plan to do this, and I think it's a solid roadmap of how Bluesky will bloat and decay over the next few years:
this is a huge lol. don't worry, we're not going to hyperfinancialize the social experience through NFTs. the thing even crypto freaks started feigning amnesia about a year ago. real "our health conscious sodas are 100% arsenic free" messaging here. They know perfectly well that rubes users are suspicious of their typical 5 dimensional tech finance chess games and are patting our hands about last week's bogeymen so nobody worries too hard about whatever 'decentralised developer ecosystem' just happens to be helmed by a bunch of crypto guys. this definitely means something good and based and not a google-like single sign on user data harvesting operation.
This is the same shit that's currently rotting the floorboards of discord. Bluntly, there is no way to run a platform on this scale without gating functionality behind paid services. Discord has been squeezing free-tier file uploads and call quality etc. down steadily and cranking up subscription costs over the last year or two, throwing in chaff like animated avatar frames to try and justify the user cost. They're also doing the same misdirection thing again here, pointing to Thing We All Hate to deflect from thing we might not like very much when they do it. Booo elon booo we all hate elon!!! wait how do we feel about subscription models again,
watch out for this to kill porn on bsky like it has killed porn on every other social platform 👍 boooo we hate elon boooo stupid idiot and his 'everything app' booooo wait why do you need my tax information, what's that about mastercard,
Look, we are all aware social media is a money pit. Let's not forget dorsey was looking to sell twitter in the first place, long before elon's very public plunge into total online derangement. Subscription services are not going to plug the hole, so we are gradually going to see more and more spaghetti thrown at the wall while early funders shuffle cards and do their pyramid scheme bit bringing in stupider and stupider investments. this is the window in which bluesky will be temporarily worth using for us, for the idiot public, the poorly rendered crowd jpegs in the background of their venture capital MOBA. it's in their interests to slow and pad the decline as much as possible, because that is how they get maximally paid.
Given the scale of the money involved, and dorsey's weird ego investment, I think bluesky will probably manage a controlled drift for a good few years before it gets really bloated and painful. and by then we will all be so used to the *checks notes* decentralised developer ecosystem that we'll just be posting through it, watching another generation of columnists call another collapsing platform 'their beloved hellsite' and passing around that meme about not getting out of our chairs no sir until idk we all get on a fediverse neurolink alternative to stick it to the elongated muskrat and our brains pop peacefully in our sleep. which I guess is the closest thing to viability any social media platform can achieve.
anyway diogenes the cynic is also on bluesky
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maybe headcanons of Bill Cipher being obsessed with us for being Ford's wife, but at first he feels jealous and gradually that changes as he finds we have equal things (e.g. we are blind, and that makes Bill start to want to get more intimate with us as he has with Ford because he finds that we have also been despised/put aside because of that difference), and maybe he wants to make a deal with us but we refuse out of loyalty to Ford and that makes Bill jealous- but now of Ford, not of us lmao sorry if that is confusing or too specific.
Are you going to write any Gravity Falls fanfic on the side? I've seen your poll and I'm very excited
HELLO, and no problem. Here it is, I hope you like it.
As for the fanfic, I do plan to write one. Actually, it's in drafts; I just need to correct what I have written. I don't know if I should make it long or cut it and put it in chapters.
PART TWO
Bill Cipher being obsessed with you [headcanon]
cw: fem!reader, non-con touching, possessed body, jealousy, maybe a bit of ooc(?
The reason Bill begins to feel his plan is threatened is because of you. As much as Ford has him on a pedestal, you are still the main reason for his early accomplishments. The special person who has been with him since his college discovery years.
You're not like McGucket; your judgment carries paramount weight in Ford's most decisive decisions. You're not a mentally dazzling woman, not like him, but your claws keep you firmly entrenched behind Sixer's back. Bill repudiates that—it makes no sense at all!
As if that weren't enough, the affair culminates with you being blind. Can there be anything much more repugnant than a romance fueled by misfortune? Ford is drawn to your sincere heart, and you support him unconditionally because beyond your husband's obsession, your love for him seems to break down the most terrifying walls. And how can you be afraid of something you can no longer see?
Bill feels he has the enemy breathing behind his back. For the first time he thinks he can't solve everything with a kick to the rock in the middle of the road.
The closest thing to a tantrum you get from him —unknowingly— are regular nightmares, a weak body and constant paranoia about unfamiliar sounds and sensations. Your home is suddenly a new world; frightening and strange. Because of this you become clumsy and unpredictable, and even your husband doesn't understand what it is that has you so off track.
Bill can't use his influence on your reality at all, but through Ford and other extensions, as well as fine print manipulations, he manages to reach you without arousing suspicion.
''I've told you many times, Bill,'' sighed Ford with his back turned, both hands placed on his journal. ''I don't think I can go through with this completely until I manage to find a way to help my wife.''
''Isn't this a sign that it's time to get her out of your way?''
"Excuse me?’’ The man turned his attention to the demon; his eyes laden with bitterness and desolation. ''What do you mean by that? I can't abandon my wife, Cipher—she would never do something like that to me.''
''Well,'' Bill chuckled, ''it's not like she's really done anything for you all this time. This project is our thing, Fordsy, and it shouldn't be interrupted by a little stumble that doesn't even belong to us. Or are you going to give up everything you've sacrificed for this?''
''You have understood me like no other, Bill; I admit that there is no person or creature existing on this planet who can do all that you have done for me,'' admitted Ford solemnly. ''But she's my wife—she's been around even before you, when I was nobody. When I had nothing. And even when I came to Gravity Falls and left everything behind she was always there. Bill, I... I can't, I'm sorry.''
Bill held back another complaint, beginning to notice that things were not working out the way he had wanted. Your clumsiness didn't kill Ford's patience or control, but what little sanity —if any— there was in him. It was humiliating; Bill Cipher losing to a human being, a random woman—blind, to make it worse.
The demon was beginning to withdraw in on himself, frustration rising to anger, when Ford's voice from the entrance to the room drew his gaze back. There was a different gleam in his companion's, and Cipher understood with annoyance where the conversation would end up now.
Your husband introduces you to the possible solution to all your problems: Mr. Cipher, a doctor and close friend of Stanford. A mysterious man with a booming voice that makes your hair stand on end, but at the end of the day a man of studies and degrees. Of course you were going to trust your husband's recommendation.
''What a coincidence that you happened to be passing by, sir! Thank you for offering to help me. That's very kind of you.''
Bill starts pretending to be your personal doctor in search of a miracle solution to your problems. It's not hard to avoid contact with you to hide the truth; Ford tries hard to keep the situation straight.
If the demon hated you before, now you better start praying.
Cipher understands that he needs to play along with Ford if he wants the project to stay on track, even if that means starting to help you heal while containing his desire to get rid of you.
Maybe if he possessed Stanford and took advantage of you during your naps.
Maybe.
But he knows better than that—Ford isn't stupid. Not stupid enough, at least.
It was humiliating to have to take care of what he himself had caused, but it's not as if Bill could afford any other way to get back on the project. Ford was all he had. Where was he going to get someone else capable enough? This had been fate; interrupted at the last minute by the appearance of a bad third. This was all your fault. Blind little rat—woman busybody with a sweet smile and giggly voice. Cipher understood why Sixer was where he was with you, on the one hand. On the other it was all the same: a whim that cost dearly. Who needed someone like you? What was the benefit? Sex, maybe? But Bill Cipher was a thousand times better than something so banal! Please…
Bill rolled his eye, snapping his fingers to undo the nightmare you were in. As soon as your dream was undone you let out an exclamation of surprise, jumping on the bed. You brought a hand to your face, feeling the sweat, and almost immediately moved your body to where he lay. Cipher held back surprise, finding himself genuinely intrigued.
''Doctor,'' you whispered hoarsely, ''good afternoon. I... Forgive me, I think I fell asleep—it was sudden, I don't know what came over me...''
''Did you know it was me here with you?''
The smile you gave him threw him off. A ''Well, yes, isn't it very obvious?'' kind of grimace.
''Does your husband know that you have these nightmares during our therapies?''
'Therapies' sounded fancy, but it was shorthand for the tortures Bill forced you to go through; a theater of supposed recovery to cover up his need to hurt you.
“He doesn't know, doctor. I haven't told him, if I'm honest,'' you replied. ''Please don't tell him anything.''
''It would be unethical!''
‘’Pretending to be a doctor is also unethical, sir,’’ you laughed. ''I am blind, not stupid.’’
Killing you was going to be the only solution to all of this—although from that day on nothing else ever happened.
Bill has to accept that you have a lot of tricks up your sleeve. You're not just any woman anymore; being Ford's wife had to have been warning enough for him.
You continue to not remind him of his charade and allow him to continue 'treating' you, while your husband resumes the plans for the portal.
Surprisingly, Bill seems to have found interest in something much more striking.
You.
The nightmares subside, your mood and judgment improve, and Cipher finds a strange pleasure in this new side of you: much more alert, more talkative and wittier. You have your charm.
But it's your husband who pulls the reins. Bill gets it right away.
Evenings with you aren't exactly revelatory like they are with Ford, who always has enough data and information to surprise everyone with. With you it's different; it's something much more intimate and almost forgotten by Bill. He knows so much that it would be impossible to be taken by surprise—but you manage to do it.
He is overcome with a nostalgic and unpleasant feeling, but which ironically keeps him alive as he decides to lie to Ford.
Bill doesn't want to let you go. It's strange. Maybe he got used to another glaring presence besides Sixer? Torturing you a little more in silence to keep you under his care should not be a stupid thing to do at all.
Cipher encounters another particular feeling: curiosity. He needs to know why you know what you know; and what it is, above all else, that keeps you here.
What keeps you with so much power over him, Bill Cipher.
''Are you saying that I have tricks up my sleeve? I don't get it, doctor...''
''Oh! Oh, please,'' Bill interrupted, thunderous laughter bouncing across the room. ''You know I'm no doctor; the title is ridiculous.''
''Should I call you 'Mr. Cipher' instead?''
Bill held back a sigh, rubbing his eye for a moment before orbiting around you. If you had noticed, you didn't say or do anything. Your eyes, white as opaque pearls, remained fixed on a corner of the room.
''Since when did you know I wasn't a doctor? No, better yet, since when did you know I wasn't human?''
''Well, it's not quite like that either,'' you replied under a soft laugh. ''You just revealed to me that you are not human. As for the doctor thing... Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think that dream therapies and transverse snoring with citrus scent induction while dipping my feet in spoiled milk is something a professional would recommend.''
Bill pretended not to be offended.
''Besides that,'' you continued, ''I know my husband very well. I know that he hides dangerous things down there, where I cannot reach by myself, just as I know everything that has been happening is not the product of chance.''
''Did you know all this time that your nightmares and fears have been my doing?''
‘’No, not really. You just confessed it to me.''
‘’Oh, come on!’’ Bill shook his fists in the air, abruptly remembering that you couldn't see him. It was strange, you seemed to know the world you inhabited even though your eyes wouldn't let you. The thought made the demon orbit around you again, returning in front of you. Opaque pearls; gaze lost in the open. "I've had a majestic revelation at this very moment! Do you want to hear it, or will your big, bold woman brain let you know in advance what I have to say?”
"I have a slight feeling you don't like me.”
“Yes or no!”
“Of course, tell me.”
"I have to assume you weren't born blind; this must be the product of an accident," Cipher began to say. "That would explain why the hell you do everything you do, and why the fuck you know where I am.”
"That's right, Mr. Cipher," you nodded. "I've had an accident, though I suppose you know that because you've infiltrated me. Either that, or my husband told you.”
"So you did know that I'm a demon?”
“You just—”
“Oh, shut up! Don't fucking say it again.”
Your coexistence with Bill becomes pleasant, despite the early revelation of his nature and his having been the cause of your misfortunes.
Cipher comes to believe that he may have been wrong; maybe you were stupid after all.
But that would be crazy! Unlike with Ford, with you the feelings are extremely nostalgic and warm. There is no trace of some kind of farce or genuine morbid interest behind your words. You believe everything you say.
Bill, who despite not sleeping or dreaming, being haunted by the memory of screams and an old distorted and flat reality, finds in your company a comfort zone that makes him delirious.
Sadly, your heart and your judgment is still tied to Sixer—as if that brainiac cared at all!
Bill begins to drive Ford crazy; he feeds him extensive knowledge, possesses him more often to enjoy the benefits, and then alters his memories, making it difficult for him to know what is truth and what is a lie.
Where he can no longer meet your needs, Bill is always there to dazzle you.
You jumped in your seat, feeling your husband's warm hands wrap around your neck. Fingers, rough from machines and dust, caressed your skin awkwardly, drawing a chuckle from you. His breath came to you from above, as if he had just sighed in delight at your reaction. When you felt him rest his hands on your shoulders, you slowly brought one of yours to caress the back of his. You felt him tremble.
''I thought you were sleeping?'' you asked with genuine interest. ''Is everything all right? All these days you've been doing the same thing.''
''Do you mind, beautiful?''
You stifled a laugh.
''No, Ford, your company would never be a bother to me... Are you smelling my hair?''
‘’I just can’t get enough of you.’’
You felt him circle your body, delineating one of the chairs near you so he could relax his body in it. You didn't last long without his hands—as soon as he resumed his seat, you felt his fingers intertwining with yours. This time it was more consistent and comfortable; not like all those days where it seemed like your husband had forgotten how to use his own body.
''Oh, dear! Seeing you with these two orbs of nerves and membrane is amazing! You look even more dazzling.''
Although the comments without any context or sense were still there.
''I'm not that great,'' you said with a small laugh. A little shy. Ford didn't used to give you so many compliments. “How's your project going?’’
‘’That thing? Good, very good. Excellent, my dear! Maybe you could see for yourself—oh, well, you can't,'' he guffawed. ''Right. Whatever! Hey, uh, can I ask you a question?''
‘’Y-Yeah, sure, honey.’’ You cleared your throat. ‘’What’s the matter?’’
''Hypothetical scenario. You're married, but you're not quite fulfilled. Suppose someone comes along who is much better than your husband,'' he explained. ''He's smart, funny, multifunctional, powerful, extra-dimensional, or very soon will be, and also very stylish!'' Silence. Moments later an exclamation. ''Do you have a favorite color? His favorite color is yellow!''
‘’I… I mean, sorry, but I actually don’t understand at all where’s the question.’’
‘’Don’t be silly! Would you leave your husband for this entity—excuse me, for this person?''
‘’What?’’
‘’The heck.’’
Another booming laugh, and though you tried to accompany it with your own, the sound that came from you was choppy and awkward. This exchange was strange.
''I can't find a reason to leave my husband for this so-called mystery person,'' you replied. ''I am supposed to have married him for a reason which should be more than enough. Ford,'' you rushed on, ''is this regarding Mr. Cipher?''
''Why?'' he asked at once. ''Why do you think of him all of a sudden? Do you feel something forbidden about him in this marriage?''
''But of course not!''
''What do you mean ‘no’?!’’
His hands let go of yours. The chair in front of you seemed to be dragged, the wood against the floor squeaking with the sudden friction. The movement had taken you by surprise.
‘’Ford?’’
''Why are you so happy? Why, huh?'' he sighed, frustrated. ''Haven't I abandoned you every night in a freezing bed, while I prefer the company of machines? Cipher has been very kind to you and kept you company!''
''Ford, what are you—wait. Wait a moment... Bill, is this you?'' You covered your mouth, terrified at the discovery. Your companion didn't respond and you simply let out a shaky breath. ''Are you possessing my husband?’’
‘’Damn, that was fast.’’
‘’That’s awful!’’
"There was full consent!" added Bill with a chuckle. "This is a man-to-man thing, my pretty little fleshbag. Something between colleagues, plain and simple. You needn't fear—Bill Cipher is taking care of everything.”
"But it's horrendous anyway!" you exclaimed with your voice splitting. "It all makes sense now... The words, the touches, the way you acted—it was all a sham! You were using my husband!”
"Oh, please, little one. Wasn't it you who dreamed of being able to touch me?”
"You, not a substitute class using Stanford's body! Have you two been doing these kinds of exchanges all along?”
"It's just that there was a change of plans!”
“A change? What—”
“I mean, I tried to kill you; but it's not that easy now,” he laughed.
You tried to calm your breathing. Your heart was beating painfully against your chest, and your whole body was trembling. This wasn't right, obviously. It was like a vivid nightmare.
“Not that I want to do it, of course.”
“Why?” you asked after a long silence.
You felt the presence of your husband's body very close to you. A pair of hands rested on your cheeks, caressing them with his fingers very softly; the touches getting lost under the trembling of your figure when you heard again a sigh of delight. Something was up.
“You know,” he whispered, “I think we could make a deal. A little, pretty one, and just for you.”
“A deal? A deal with a demon, you mean. No, thank you.”
“Oh, come on! It will be fun!”
“And it makes no sense.”
Bill turned away from you, returning to his chair to take a seat across from your body.
"What exactly is it that Ford gives you that I can't manage to satisfy? Because very soon the little project will be complete, and I will have full disposal of many wonderful tricks to take care of you, my dear," he continued. "An eternity together! We'll be able to create and tell thousands of new stories; to travel across the world and let you experience hundreds of new sensations. We'll be unstoppable! Incomparable!”
"That's not the way things work, Bill…”
"Things work because of the strongest. I will soon be the only one with that title.”
"What will happen to Ford?" you asked haltingly. "What will you do to my husband?”
"He's my co-worker, dear.”
"You're hiding something from me.”
"So what if it is? He doesn't matter here! It's our time... You're mine.”
The way your husband's voice was beginning to distort sent a shiver through your body. You loved Ford—you missed him. The idea that you had been kissing the lips of a man possessed a couple of days ago was turning your stomach. Your silence seemed to feed something inside the demon; his voice thundered, totally changed, across the room.
"A few weeks ago you said you missed the stars," added Bill. "The last time you saw them was when you were a teenager. I miss the stars too—the ones I saw with a different eye. It's not the same anymore. Nothing is, since..." Silence. You didn't dare interrupt the creature who seemed to be drowning in bitter memory. It took him a while to pull himself together; a split laugh piercing your ears like an arrow. "Oh, the misery! I thought it repulsive the way you two looked so united over something so pathetic. Anyway, what does the past matter now, what does misery matter! There's no such thing being with Bill Cipher. You'll want for nothing.”
"I refuse, Bill.”
"And I refuse too," he laughed. "See? We can play the same game, silly. I don't recommend testing my patience, though.”
The touch of palms against the warm skin of your neck took you by surprise. The roughness of those fingers you loved so much were now forbidding you to breathe; the softness of moist lips pressing against yours, taking advantage of the way you parted yours to find a sliver of air. You soon struggled against your husband's body, desperate to deny the foreign tongue that flicked unseemly and inexperienced inside you. Bill was drowning in an unfamiliar feeling that felt too good. You were soft, fragile. Your flesh was tender and warm, quivering like an animal about to die—he was going to devour it to the bone. Was this what Ford had been doing with you? You liked it?
He could kill you. He could end your life when the portal was complete; he could take advantage of Ford, as he had been doing all this time, and keep the prize all to himself. Why was it so hard? What was it you had done to him? Was Ford a victim too? The thought burned like a fierce fury at the back of his mind—jealousy once again. The need to own even the crumbs. Ford wouldn't have the right to be your victim anymore. This feeling was too good for that brainiac to understand, surely he never did.
But Bill understood everything. He was incomparable. He could dominate your life and hold the reins as well as Ford had been doing. No. Cipher was going to do better! Did you miss your husband's domination? Bill would be your ruler; he would destroy obstacles and build better ones to keep you in check. Maybe a little training and you'd become a beautiful little bag of flesh and muscle—tight, warm and obedient. And who knows if you'd end up exceeding his expectations! Who knows if a little gift occupying your orbs would give you the chance to enjoy the same star-studded sky together.
"Don't think too much," whispered Bill pantingly. "There's plenty of other things to do than something as dull as that. Don't worry your pretty little head.”
You shook your head, surrendered to crying. Your husband's hands had left your neck, but now they wrapped around your wet cheeks, offering shy caresses.
"From now on you're going to use it when I say so. Everything will be that way, and you know why?”
A crooked laugh vibrated against his chest, reaching you through his hands.
"Because now you will be my new pet. A special one! The best of them all… You could say ‘muse’, even. Isn't that beautiful, dear?”
A cold kiss. The last one.
“Aren't you, above all, beautiful too?”
#fanfic#reader insert#reader#obssesion#yandere#angst#bill cipher gravity falls#bill cipher x reader#bill cipher#gravity falls stanford#stanford pines#gravity falls
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Not The Romantic Type | Part Three
Part One | Part Two
"Aren't you nervous?" Fer asks, hands busy helping Pedri fix his smoking. "I'm about to colpase from the excitement."
"I feel like I'm going to cry myself to sleep, but in a bad way, I can't believe that I'm actually on the top three to get this."
If you ask him, only in his dreams, he was able to be on the top three of the most likely to get the ballon d'or.
He improved so much over the years that he worked more on perfecting his game to be able to classifie into the best players.
He remembered the Golden Boy award, Messi won one before winning his ballon d'or. Now he's following into his idol footsteps.
"Mom wants a picture of you on the suit." Fer says as he snaps a picture of him. "Venga, let's go get some food, we still have that meeting with the constructor."
Pedri thank the designer, changing into his normal clothes back to meet the new contractor.
Fer and him are partnering in a restaurant, he trusted his brother as a chef for his whole career. It was obvious he was trusting him with something this big.
"We need an interior designer." The constructor tells them. "I know you have a vision of how you want this to look like. However, I feel that with a little help and more inspiration we can make this amazing."
"Vale, if you think it's what we need, then let's do it!" Pedri says excitedly. "Fer will be the one meeting up with this person since I'll be at the field."
"No problem, I think my girl will be the one. Not that I'm talking bad about the guy, but she's just a star when it comes to modern luxury style."
"Perfecto!" Fer smiles, "Let's meet up with her, I'm so excited."
Pedri was excited about everything, the ceremony in France, the new project, the possible winning of the Champions League.
He was focused on the field and nothing else. That's why Fernando decided to be the caregiver or the project, so Pedri would be all into his element.
The dressing room was euphoric, the players happy about winning the semifinals, they're playing the final at home.
"Visca al Barca" Gavi yells.
"Visca al Barca" they all second.
"And let's all celebrate to our next Ballon d'or, the magician Pedri." Ter Stegen shakes him. "Vamos Pedri!"
They throw all the water they can at him, making him smile and laugh at how much support he has from his friends. His second family.
After the celebration Ferran invited Pedri to a little party he planned. "No lo sé, tiburón. I'm kinda tired and I have to meet with the designer to measure the tux"
"A little party never killed nobody." Ferran insisted, but he denied. He needs rest and peace.
"Vale, pero me lo debes." He hugs him tight. "See you around, pepi."
He drives home, passing in front of the place where the restaurant will take place. He can't help but feel pride, this feels like an extension of their parents' hard work.
Fer was laying on the couch, checking some ideas the ID (interior designer) sent them.
"Hola, tonto." Pedri pulls lightly his brothers hair. "Are those the ideas this girl sent you?"
"Si, look at this, I love this idea she has." Fer pass him the iPad. He sees the ideas, loving all of it. "She's amazing, first thing and I'm already in with everything."
"Yes, this is cool." He checks everything, loving every idea. "When are you meeting her?"
"I think tomorrow." Fer gets up, walking to the kitchen and pulling out food. "But don't worry, I'll update you on everything."
✨️✨️✨️
"So, as you can see here." The constructor pointed to the ceiling. "We thought about lighting that can be dimmed as the sun light goes down."
"My brother and I loved that idea, specially because we have that at home recently installed and I think it will go so well."
"Perfect, our designer will come any minute now, she told me traffic was hectic and she was just a block away but stuck."
"It's okay, I get it. It took me an hour and a half to get here today, so I can't blame her." He laughs, interrupted by his ring tone." Excuse me for a second."
The constructor kept looking at his structure with your design. The sound of heels makes him turn, you were walking fast while holding your iPad and a few more things.
"I'm so sorry, Marc." You apologize, leaving your things on the desk. "I think today is not my day. Is the client mad?"
"Not at all, Y/n." He pats your back. "He's an amazing dude, super relaxed. You will hit it off real quick."
You smile relief. You didn't want to lose this client, specifically because Marc told you they wanted to expand if the first restaurant goes well, meaning you will expand with them.
"Let's meet him them." You nervously giggle. "What's his name again?"
"Fernando, he's a chef."
Before you can even connect the dots, Fer walks into the room, saying goodbye to the person on the line.
"Fernado, so nice you're bac. This is our interior designer, Y/n."
You smile at the sight of him. Haven't seen him since the breakup. He has more facial hair, and he's stronger and definitely more mature looking.
"We know each other." You smile, still surprised at his presence. "We go way back actually."
Fer is as astonishing as you are, opening his arms to greet you into a hug. "It's been a long time no see." He laughs, hugging you tight. "Gosh, I can't believe you're our designer."
"I can't believe you're my clients." You laugh. "Let's leave the talk for later, I want to explain this to you, and then we can use the time."
He nods, letting you explain every part of your ideas. He can't deny that even if it wasn't you, he loves the ideas and can't think of any way to make it better.
You ask him about colors, measurements, textures, and different stuffs you will need to prepare yourself for your work.
"Perfect! We can't say that this meeting was a success." Marc happily says. "I'll keep working while you two chat a little, excuse me." He wayves goodbye while Fer and you say goodbye.
"Entonces," Fer says, picking your side like he used to. "You're a well-known designer." You nod, smiling.
"And you're a well-known chef, Mister González." You laugh. "It's so nice to see you. How have you been?"
"It's been good, I'm older but I think wiser." He hands you your iPad. Helping you with some things. "What about you?"
"I mean, you can tell how I am. I got my dream job and I feel like nothing can go better than this." You shrug.
Fer wants to ask. He needs to ask if you have someone or not, but he doesn't want to intrude into your private life.
"So, how's the family?"
"They're good, nothing to report." You nod. "What about your family? How are Rosy and Fernando? How is the Tasca going?"
You can't help but miss them, specially Rosy, she acted like a mother to you, always worrying about you, taking care of you when you were sick.
"Mom and dad are so good. They are healthy." He smiles at the thought of them. "The Tasca is doing good. This is a little extension of it, but bigger."
"I'm so happy for you, Fer." You hug him, happy about him, making his dream of having his own restaurant come true. "How is Pedri?"
Fer is speechless, he didn't think you will ask about him, not after the way you two ended things.
"Bueno, no le va mal." He laughs. "He's on top three to win the ballon d'or, Barcelona is on the UCL finals, la Liga finals. He's at the top."
You smile, you're happy he is getting all the awards he deserves. He's always been amazing at his job.
"I'm happy for him." You nod. "Even tho I haven't really been aware of the team. I've been busy lately."
"Maybe you can catch up, he's also in this with me." Fer smiles as big as he can "and he's single." He elbow you.
You laugh at this, blushing a little at the confession. You did hear some rumors about him and some girls, deep down wanting for it to be just that, a rumor.
"Don't know why that's important." You giggle, looking down. "We been over for a long time now."
"Well, if you want him back, he's available to be picked."
"Fer." You laugh. "He wouldn't pick me, specially with all the girls he's probably getting." You look away while saying that.
He always got girls, and nobody could deny that. In your mind, they were girls who were hotter than you, prettier than you, more experienced than you.
That was something that made you feel insecure, not that he was engaging with them in any way, he always ignored them or just straight up blocked them.
But you had that little insecure voice from time to time that told you that he had better options and that you needed to step up.
"Don't say that." He says in a serious tone. "You were the best thing Pedri had."
Fer wasn't lying. After you left, Pedri went down a very dark path. He was going out, drinking, bringing girls home.
Everything to make him forget about you. Girls who looked nothing like you, who acted nothing like you.
Girls who went after his money and his fame. They were doing everything they could to show they were with The Pedri from Barcelona.
You on the other side, always made sure to be cautious about not getting recognized. You never wanted the attention that came with being his girlfriend.
You were with him since he was that Canarian guy at Las Palmas, that skinny boy who made it big.
You were there before the fame, before the fans, before the name. But you were his past.
"If you say so." You exhale. "I will send you a virtual look of everything with all of the things you picked."
The change of subject makes Fer think you may not be as interested in his brother as he thought you would be.
Maybe you moved out and didn't want to let it out. Maybe you changed your likes and now you're not up for a footballer.
"Thank you, I'll see you here next time I pass by?"
"You will, I'll be here a lot more."
With a hug goodbye you both walk out to your cars. You wave him as you enter your car, getting a honk from him.
Fer can't even believe the picture he's seeing. He thought Pedri was being honest with him when he said that no more one night stands with random girls whom the club invite to their parties.
He can't help but feel embarrassed about talking to you all this past days about how much Pedri would love to have you back.
But now his little brother is on all the magazines and gossip news of Barcelona and Spain as a taken man by this random influencer who obviously posted more about being at the party.
One part of him can't blame Pedri, he was in a committed relationship since he was sixteen, he obviously went out and went crazy after the break up.
But six years later was a little too much for him to keep his crazy behavior. He had a chance of winning the girl of his dreams back.
Fer can't help but think about you. If you see this news and pictures, you will definitely think all he's been saying is a joke and that he's playing with your feelings.
And how right he was, you can't help but feel anger. He's been spending all this time changing topics to Pedri.
"Pedri was busy but says hello."
"Oh Pedri can't wait to be here to see you."
"When you're back together, I'll be the happiest brother in law you will ever have."
Was he teasing you?
You don't even want to go to work today. You want to call in sick and spend all day in bed thinking about how stupid you are for believing Fernando's words.
But you won't. The breakup didn't stop you back then, and it won't now.
You will walk with your head up, ready to work in your nice outfit. You won't mind, you have so much to lose, he already lost you.
He lost you.
You didn't lose him.
"Buenos días!" You say, giving Marc his favorite coffee order as usual. "Any news I should now?"
"Well, the Calcutta Gold Marble is taking longer than expected but after that nothing to worry about."
You nod, leaving your things at your little station. "As always with Calcutta."
"By the way, Fernando was looking for you. He's outside talking with David." You nod, thanking him and walking to where Fer is.
You know he's about to mention the picture. He can't help it but be so obvious about things. But you will change the subject as much as you can't.
"Hey, boss." You smile "heard you wanted to talk to me."
"Hey, how are you?" He plays with his necklace.
"I'm good. I had a very nice sleep." You smile. "I want to tell you, the Calcutta Gold Marble we picked for the bar area is taking more time. Don't worry about it. That's normal with that material, but just a heads up."
He half smiled, not sure how to approach you. He wants to say sorry. He wants to kick his brother.
"I'm sorry." He spat, can't even think straight due to the blame he feels. "You probably saw the picture and -."
You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation this early. "Fer, let's focus on what we need to focus."
"I just feel like I need to apologize."
"You don't. Let's move to what's important here. Your restaurant."
He understood quickly, not bringing the topic again. That made you relax. Before this project you were fine not thinking about Pedri. You are fine now.
You focus on making this project happen. You wanted Fer to have the best reaction when he sees his project finish.
✨️✨️✨️
"So, are you nervous about tomorrow's match?" The press guy asks him. "It's the finals for the UCL, and then you have to go to France for the Ballon D'or. You have a pretty crazy schedule."
"Bueno, I think I've always had a crazy schedule." He laughs, making the interviewers laugh too. "But I'm not nervous, I trust my team, I have a big trust in all the work we've been doing. We trust out Mister, so to me it's about focusing on staying healthy, making goals and winning."
"Walk us through the process you have for your next trip to France."
"Joder, it's not that much. If I'm honest, I have the tux, have the shoes, have my family, don't think I need anything else."
"Pedri, we got many requests to ask you if you don't walk with a ballon that night, will we see you walking with a special someone?"
He half smile at that question, knowing he fucked up by getting too close to María at the party.
"I don't have a girlfriend. If that's what you're asking." He shrugs. "I'm single. And probably the only lady I will be going to hug during the ceremony and after is my mom. Thank you."
He walks away, mad at himself for allowing this to happen again. He knows this girls just want the hype attached to his name. Specially now, with all the winnings of the club.
"Dude, you okay?" Gavi asks, noticing his frown. "What did they say?"
"They asked if I'm walking out that fucking auditorium with someone, es una putada, I will celebrate the week I don't get linked with some random girl."
Gavi lift his eyebrow. "Si, but the rumors don't just appear." he scuffs and turn to his locker.
"What do you mean?"
"Pedri, you used to be out and about with a different girl every other week. You flew this girl to Manchester. When you came back, you had this other girl in a new hotel. You're doing this to yourself."
He can't even argue because it's true. He did all those things. He flew all these girls. He fucked up his reputation.
"Me cago en la puta." He threw the towel at the inside of his locker. "I just wish I can have some fucking privacy."
"Then don't involve yourself with girls who only care to expose that they're with you." He hits him with his jersey. "Dude, you can go out and find a nice girl who will want a relationship and not just sex and a picture."
He nods, stresses about the topic already. Gavi is right. So is Ferran when he advise him not to mess with every girl that flaunt at him.
And when Fer tries to get some sense into him finding someone to settle to. Someone who will be happy to welcome him after a long day, someone who wants to grow a family with him.
He doesn't want that. Not without you.
He agreed to move out that day when you asked him to be happy, to find someone who would celebrate all his victories.
But he had that. He had you.
He lost you.
The game was about to finish, the extra time about to finish.
The Bayern had a corner. So they have to step up and prevent them from scoring. Just two minutes more and that's it.
"Vale, a ver." He yells, catching up the attention of the players near him. "Marc, just this cover up and the Champion is ours, please catch it." He makes them laugh. "Fermin, cover Davies. Gavi, cover Saliba. I'll cover their number 10."
They all nod, positioning themselves. They were nervous, this was their chance. This was their final chance.
When Marc let the ball go, Gavi was at the right place at the right time. He hit the ball with his feet, making it go out of the goalkeeper area.
Raphinha runs away with it. Getting the ball as far as possible from their area. Just when he's trying to make a assist to Pau, the referee blows the whistle.
Pedri runs to Gavi and Fermin. Hugging them while screaming. The public was as static as they are, cheering for them.
They won. They got the Champions League.
He look over at where his family is, they're screaming and jumping. Everybody is, the whole stadium is.
Running to his parents open arms. He can't help the tears of happiness as he hugs his family.
Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr added to his story
You are happy for him, you can't lie to yourself like you do to other people.
You feel proud, he got everything he ever wanted, he got la liga, he got the Champions and he's probably will get the Ballon.
And he did what you asked him to do. He got himself someone to celebrate all that with. Someone who will make him happy.
The sour taste in your mouth haven't left since you saw that picture of him with that girl at the party.
He left you behind, like you asked him to.
You tried to focus on the work you were doing, turning the tv off to pay more attention.
You can't, your mind goes back to the way things used to be. He made mistakes, and you accepted all those mistakes because you loved him.
While he is at his party, with his family and his new girl. You are trying to forget about the memories of him.
You fix all the things Fer asked you to fix in the design, making the things he wanted as similar as possible as he explained.
You texted him, asking him if he was able to come see you to approve everything so you order the material.
Fer answers you while he opens the door of his home. He was still ashamed about the picture situation. He could sense the change in your attitude before and after that picture.
"I need your help, I don't think I can walk upstairs by myself." Pedri whine, he drank more than he should, making him dizzy.
Fer helps him, carrying him while walking upstairs. "Pedri. You need to help me just a bit."
He feels bad, he doesn't want to celebrate alone. All his teammates with their partners and kids and he's alone.
Yes, he has his parents, his brother, this family and friends. But he needs a hug at night when he gets insecure. He needs a shoulder to cry.
He craves intimacy, not sexual intimacy. He wants to feel secure with someone to the point of trusting all his worries and deepest secrets.
He wants someone to know his family, to sit at his parents' table and have a relationship with them.
"I'm sad," he confess. "Am I allowed to be sad?"
Fer can't even understand where this is coming from. He never saw signs of Pedri being sad or never heard anybody telling him to suck it up.
"Pepi, you can be sad." He reassured him. "Why are you sad? Tell me"
Pedri just shakes his head, not even sure how to approach the topic. "I miss my life back when I was twenty."
Fer understood, his brother carries a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, especially now with the whole <he needs to bring the ballon d'or home just like Messi>
"How can I help you, pepi?"
"If you have a magic wand that can bring me back to when I was happy and didn't have to fuck a girl every night to feel something, please use it."
He frowns, not sure how to reassure his brother. He knew Pedri felt alone. He can tell. He told him off about his sex life.
Not shaming him, but making him understand that the pattern he was following was not healthy at all.
"I can help you by not leaving you alone." He hugs him, pating his back lightly to calm him down. "I'm here, always will."
He helps Pedri take his clothes off and get into bed, he wants to check him in case he feels down again.
Once Pedri is passed out, he tries to plan something, how can he help him?
He picks his phone to text his mom that they're home. He sees the last text he sent is to you. The light bulb on his head turns.
He can help him, he's not with anyone, not that girl at the party and is done with the playtime every other week.
If he asks him to go to the meeting and approve the things you need, you can meet and reconnect.
He just needs his brother to be ready tomorrow to meet you. He knows he still thinks about you, and you might still do the same.
He texts you, asking you to meet at four p.m., by that time his brother will be up and fresh to see you.
Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr added to his close friends
"I don't even want to be near a drink in my life." Pedri makes a disgusted face, he needs a whole gallon of water.
"Finish the drink so we can go."
The drink looks bad, very bad. Even tho it was just a tea with no sugar. "Maybe I'll just go brush my teeth."
Fer feels excited. He wants his plan to go well. He's anxious but happy. He knows it's about time you two make a move and solve what needs to be solved.
"Vamos, big head." Pedri smack the back of Fer head. "You drive, I can't do nothing yet."
The trip was not as long as usual. The streets were lonely and Fer was driving slowly. He confirmed you were coming before leaving the house.
When he parked, he noticed Marc's car parked in front of the building. To his luck, the parking lot was being modified, so he needed to park in the nearby building.
"Oye, I'll find somewhere to park. There's a little office, white door to the left. Wait for me there."
He does as he's told, walking with his head down. Still feeling the pain from all the drinking he did.
"Hola?" He asks, opening the door a little before entering.
He looks at all the things on the walls, the chair textures, the floor wood, the bar design, the lamps options.
He's in love with all the ideas, with the little real-life version of what the restaurant will look like. With the little pink pen notes the designer left. The door opening can't bother him. Looking at all the planning that they made in so little time.
You can't even blame him, you weren't paying much attention either. Focusing on answering Marc's text about something related to a change that needed to he approved as soon as possible.
"Hola Fer. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to greet you properly. I've been so busy with all this little things."
You open your bag to search for your iPad, wanting to show him everything quickly to move out and not waste more time.
Pedri turns quickly, the sound of your voice amazes him. You're there after so long. After all this time.
"Hey about the Marble, I think it's best if we just switch the whole piece. This is taking so long." You won't turn, he won't say a word. "Fer?"
The two of you are just standing there, looking at each other, no words in between. Nothing.
Pedri thought a lot about what would happen if he ever saw you again. Definitely all that planning went out the window the second he heard your voice.
You practice too, what if you find him in a bar some day in Barcelona? You wouldn't mind it. But you're minding it very well.
"Hola." You finally say, voice breathless and gone.
His eyes are rooming you up and down. He can't help but point at every little detail that's different about you, different in a good way. You feel the heat coming up your cheeks. He's there, looking more mature, more handsome.
You shake your head, you have one job to do, getting the changes approved to the project move forward.
"Is your brother coming? Because I really need him to approve this for me." You grab your iPad, tying to look uninterested.
"Oh, I can approve it." He extend his hand and you hand him the device. "Just explain to me what this is exactly?"
While you explain every little detail about the changes, showed him how it was before to compare and to see if he likes it.
He likes everything, but there's something about the way you talk, something about the way you smell, you didn't change that perfume you love.
"I like your hair." Your hair is longer. He loves that. You always talked about wanting to let it grow to try new hairstyles.
You smile, the closeness not helping the situation. "Thank you." You say softly.
You might act calm, but from the inside, you're about to burst because of the way he looks. It's a good thing he changed his style.
Also his perfume, he's using the same perfume you gave him once, he didn't change it. And that facial hair is gone, he's shaved and clean.
"Do you like how everything is, or do you want to make any more changes?" You ask, trying to act professional.
"I mean, you're a star. This looks amazing." He praise you. Making you feel a wave of pride. "Fer will love this."
Your smile grows, you're happy he likes the changes. But you like even more the way he's praising you work like never before.
"So how are you?"
You close the iPad, sending Marc an "approval" copy of the digital prototype. "I'm good, been working hard and I've been busy with it." You shrug, not sure what else to say. "Congrats on the UCL, I heard you guys won."
He smiles, winning the game with his two goals was more than he ever expected. "We did, thank you."
"two goals huh?" You tease him. Feeling a little confident.
He rolls his eyes playfully. Laughing at your teasing. "I'm kind of proud of that, I'm in my Messi era? Or something like that."
You both laugh, you missed this, miss having someone to joke to. You back away from his circle, haven't seen his friends since then, when you are in Tenerife you won't go to his parents Tasca.
You missed having someone from your past in Barcelona. Someone who knew you before the city, someone who knew you as well as he did.
"That's great." You pat his arm. "I guess I'll see you around." You walk with him to the entrance. "Tell your brother I'll text him, I still need to show him some things."
"Sure, if not, you can text me. It won't hurt if I get a little more involved." He throws the jab at you, noticing your little lip smile.
"I'll ask your brother to send me your number." You say, stopping in from of the exit door. "Bye." You walk over the construction area, he can't keep his eyes away from you.
When he's out, Fernando is waiting for him in his car, the smile he has, knowing what he did. He acts as if nothing happened, he couldn't find parking and wait for you.
"Hey, was everything looking good?"
Pedri scuff, shaming his head while smiling. "Hijo'puta" he jokes, hitting him in the head. "You didn't told me she was here"
"I wanted to surprise you."
"Joder, she looks beautiful. Her smile hasn't changed at all, and her eyes, mierda, are shining like crazy."
Fernando is happy hearing Pedri talk about you, he haven't seen him this happy in a long time. Haven't talk about anyone like this in a long time.
"Her perfume, Dios mio. She hasn't changed that perfume, the same since we met." He's still rambling about you. "You didn't tell me, why?"
"I thought it was for the best, plus you were finding out once you started coming."
"Would it be crazy if I confess that I might be in love still?"
The smile on their faces is comical. Fer knew he never forgot you, and Pedri was just admitting it out loud.
"No." He laughs. "You have one more chance, dude. Don't blow it."
And he doesn't.
Every chance he gets now, he will visit the place. He will be there even tho there's nothing of interest happening.
He loves making small talk with you. Having you explain everything you do or everything you order.
It's weeks and weeks of him doing this, bringing you a coffee or drink every time. You can't help but smile at him, still remembering your order of drink.
Also if he has training in the evenings, he will bring you something to eat for lunch. Worrying because you don't give yourself a little break. In his words.
"This is what I was telling you the other day. If you put this on the bar, it will look better than this other one." You show him, thinking he's playing attention.
"Let me take you out on a date."
You smile, not sure what to say. You want to accept, you still have feelings for him. But you don't want to feel what you used to feel when you were with him.
"Please, I know a place you would love."
"Pedri, I don't think it's a good idea. We are working together and if this doesn't go well its just going to be awkward for us."
"It will not, please just give me a chance." he beggs, grabbing your hands. "If you don't like it or you don't feel good I promise I will back off."
His hands on yours, thumbs caressing your fingers. You want to say no, not repeating the pattern. But you want to give him the chance his asking.
"Vale, but you have to promise me that you won't wear those ugly skinny jeans."
He laughs, he knows how much you used to hate those kind of jeans. Always asking him to let you into his closet to get rid of them.
"If you want to you can dress me, I'll be Ken and you can style me all the way."
You shake your head no while laughing, "I don't think you'll like me throwing half your closet."
If you had. A chance back then, those Jean shorts and skinny jeans were a must in the out of the closet list.
"Let's go tonight, I'll pick you up and everything."
You nod, writing your address in a pink post it. Thing that make him smile, you loved leaving little notes for him everywhere in his house or car.
"pick me up by 8?" You ask, making him nod. "Te veo entonces." You kiss his cheek goodbye.
You do your best work trying to act normal. When you're on your car you let a big scream. You were excited.
It's been six years, obviously it was nerve breaking.
You hurry home, you have time to calmly change and get ready. You picked a nice outfit, nothing too casual or too formal. The perfect middle point.
You have a long everything shower. Making sure to be as smooth as possible. It's not like you're thinking about doing anything but just to be sure.
Pedri was doing basically the same thing, making sure everything is clean and nice for the night.
He even make sure his car is in neat condition, asking Fer to go to a car wash to get it ready.
"You look fine, niño." Fer reassure him again. "vete ya, or you'll be late."
"Deseame suerte."
"You don't need it, just don't fuck this up and you'll be fine." Fer laughs.
You pass around your livingroom, you boots heel making a sound with every strep. You wanted this to go well.
The doorbell made you freeze. You check mentally if everything is good. Check yourself on the little mirror before opening the door.
"Hola, guapa."
"Hola." You blush a little at the compliment. "What is this?"
He hands you the small bouquet of your favorite flower. "A little souvenir from me, to you."
You small at the little game of words, you taught him that. Every time you got him something you used to say that to him.
You like how he tries to fix the past by not making the same mistakes, he bought you flowers, like you say you wanted back then.
"Gracias, get in, I'll put them on water."
He checks your house, he can't deny that he loves your taste, always did. You have a beautiful house.
His eyes land on a specific blanket, he gifted you that on your second anniversary. He remembered that you wanted the blanket and since he was winning some money on Las Palmas. He went out and got it for you.
"You still have this?" He caresses the material. Memories of how happy you were when you got the gift.
You check what he was talking about, smiling a little when you see what he means. "I do. I love that blanket." You grab your bag and stand next to him. "Plus, I usually watch movies or take naps on the couch, so it's the perfect location."
You walk to your door, making him follow you. "I didn't think you had it still."
"That means you don't have any of the gifts I've ever given you?" You joke, knowing most of the things you gave him were clothes.
He thinks for a second, he does have a ring you gave him for his birthday, he loves that ring. Or the bracelet with an eight engraved.
"I do." he smile, he had everything you gifted him. "I have the ring you gave me when I turned eighteen."
When you walk to the car you see a black Lexus. "Where is the Porsche?" You ask as he opens the door for you.
"Had to upgrade a little bit."
You see a crazy clean car, smelling fresh. You laugh a little, he was never this clean with his car.
The drive to the place was confortable, he asked you about your past works and you asked him about football. The usual.
Dinner was fine, you did liked the place and the food. He was right about it. He even ordered dessert and acted as if the waitress had forgotten the other one just to share it with you.
"It was amazing, thank you very much." You say, turning back to face him as you reach your front door. "I had so much fun"
He steps closer to you, hands on your waist. "That means this is me winning my chance with you?"
Your breathing accelerates. His closeness is making things to you. The tip of his nose is touching yours. You nod at his question, unable to say something.
He smiles, he can tell by your accelerate breathing and the way your hands are on his arms that you don't mind him being this close.
He lay his head on your shoulder, hands on your back and thumbs caressing your sides. Your hands roam his arms. Scratching lightly.
"You have practice tomorrow." You say as you finally get some sense back into you. "And it's getting late."
"I think they will be fine without me there. I just won us the UCL."
His breathing on your neck is tempting. But you want to take things slowly, you want to take baby steps with him.
"I don't." You try to think of an excuse on why he can't stay. "I don't have an extra toothbrush."
He laughs, understanding the message. He wants to go slowly too, proving that he's not the same one who hurt you.
Plus, you are not one of his one night stands, he doesn't want you to feel like one. "Oh no! That means I have to go home." He kiss your collarbone and pull away from you.
You fix a piece of his hair, hand on his arm, securing yourself. "I like your hair like this." Your nails brush his hair. Making him close his eyes at the sensation.
"I'll come see you after training." He pulls away from you. "I really want to take you out again, I missed this."
"I would love that." You kiss his cheek goodbye. Entering you house and waving him a quick goodbye.
The whole trip home was him and his mom on the phone. He always trusted Rosy with anything, her and his father were the first people he calls when something good or bad happens.
He's mad, throwing his phone on the coffee table next to him.
He doesn't understand how people get to judge him based on things that are not related to football. On the field, he does the work. He makes sure he does assists, he even got some goals like the two of the last game.
He's good, he won't say otherwise. It took him so much effort to admit that he's as good as everybody else and saying he's not is unfair to his work and progress.
"Don't mind the things people say on the internet about you."
"I can't help it. Those random dudes on x saying things about me as if they know me."
"Their opinion don't matter." You pull him by the shoulders. He lays on top of you, hiding his face on the crock of your neck. "Don't let a random person affect your day."
You two have been seeing each other for three months, he makes sure to always go check on you after or before practice.
Always bring you something, some flowers, some coffee or a drink. Something to eat. Named it, and it'll be there.
He loves how much you two progress, and you love how much he showed you he changed, how much different he is from who he was back in the day.
"Don't go to work today, stay with me." He pouts.
You smile, nails scratching his scapl. "I have to go, either way your brother will be blowing my phone with questions and worries about every other thing."
"Block him." He jokes, knowing that Fernando was a perfectionist and wants this project to be as perfect as possible. "Seriously do." He kiss your shoulder before getting off of you.
"If I do I'll be fired." You joke back.
He makes a face. "They can't fire you. I'll get you back in." kissing your lips as he hugs your waist, head on your lap. "I don't want to do anything today."
Your fingers scratch his head, trying to calm him down. "I'll be here later, we can watch something on tv."
He nods, loving the feeling of your hands on his hair. Calming down from his frustration. He missed that, the level of confort, not needing to hide to feel intimacy, he missed feeling happy with a girl.
"I wish I could stay, but right now, I'm the one who calms your brother down when he gets perfectionist with every little detail." He understood, enjoying the feeling of being in your arms.
✨️✨️✨️
"Am I crazy or are the lights way too yellow?" Fer asks, judging every little detail he feels is wrong. "And the material, do you think is okay?"
You wanted to laugh, this was a very common thing with clients, they all freak out with the progress.
"Fernando, please don't worry. I promise this would look amazing in a few weeks when things are more placed and organized."
He nods, going to question Marc about something he thought was not right. You move to your office, wanting to organize your things.
You answer Pedri's text, and he told you he was bored and lonely without you. You laugh and answer with a picture of your messy desk.
You hear a knock on your door. "Can I come in?" When you see who it is, your eyes light up.
"Oh my God! Hello." You say happily.
"How are you, nena? I missed you."
"I've been good, working like crazy. You know me, kinda workaholic." You laugh. "How are you? How's Fernando and how's the Tasca doing?"
"We're fine, the Tasca is doing great, a lot of people. You need to go back and pay us a visit." Rosy says, taking a seat next to you. "Fer told me you were working with them, I'm so happy for you."
You love Rosy, she was like a mother to you. She took care of you when you needed it. She cooked for you, she went to your high school graduation when your family couldn't.
She was special to you, really loved her like a family, the same with Fernando. They were family.
You got away from them after the breakup, you needed space and so did Pedri. You thought that invading his space by being near his family was wrong. That's why when you were on Tenerife you didn't went out to see them.
"I am, I didn't know it was them when I got into the project. I'm happy I did. I've missed them."
You talk for a while about different topics, mostly her telling you about all the things that happened all this years.
You also told her about your years, how you ended up with this job and how it was. It was nice to have the talk you two had.
"I missed you, I miss my daughter." She confess. You smile at that. You missed them too.
"I missed you too, sorry I didn't come back to your place. I thought it was the right thing to do after the breakup."
"I get it." She grabs your hands. "Pedri also told me that you guys were trying to see if things work out again."
You smile, nodding. "We are, I feel like we both want that and I feel this is the right thing to do."
"I hope it works out for you two, I want my girl back." She hugs you.
You two talk a little more until Fer went looking for his mom. You grab your things and walk with them to the entrance. You all say goodbye to Marc, asking him to text or call you if he needs anything.
You say goodbye to them, saying that you will call Fer to meet up for lunch on another occasion.
✨️✨️✨️
"Do you want a little smoothie?" You ask Pedri as he walked downstairs. "I made a banana and strawberry one."
He nods, walking over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder and your neck.
"I have training at two." He says in a raspy voice. "And I have to pack, will you help me, preciosa?"
You nod, passing him a glass with smoothie. You kiss his forehead and fix his hair a little. "We can work on your luggage after training. I have a meeting and I can't keep missing work." You bop his nose.
He smirks, he knows you work hard, but you have been missing some days of work thanks to him. You didn't have that much problem since they were the one who hired you, and Marc was okay with your working from home.
"I'll pick you up after practice." He smile, kissing you. "I'll get us some food and we can watch your favorite movie while you help me."
You both enjoy your smoothies, talking a little about different topics. Not caring about anything else but each others company.
He planned to ask you to go to the ceremony with him in Paris, he wanted you there, he needed you as much as his family there.
He went to practice, the technical team and his teammates organized him and Gavi a little celebration for good luck.
"I need to know what cream this dude is using because those bags under his eyes disappeared in no time." Raphinha jokes. Hugging him.
They are all in the bathroom, having a chat while getting clean and fresh to go home.
"He's using vitamin love." Ferran jokes from the bathroom. "He's a lover boy now."
They all hit Pedri's head while congratulating him about being in love. He enjoys the messing.
"Venga, this is not a crazy new." He says, fixing his hair.
"It is." Fermin says, hitting the back of his head. "You were the whore of the group and Ferran is here, take that in."
"Mira capullo, I'm a saint." Ferran yells.
"Joer', it was not that bad." He tried to justify himself.
"It was." Gavi says. "That why we are happy that you have a stable relationship. With someone you love and who loves you." Gavi hugs him. Making all the others hug him too.
After the shower chat, he left looking for some flowers, looking for some fresh food from your favorite place, your favorite dessert.
He knocks on your door. When you open, you're greeted by a big bouquet of flowers, you smile taking them from him.
"Hola." He smiles. "You look so pretty." He close the gap between you two kissing your lips. "I have our dinner in the car, ready to go?" You nod, putting your flowers in a pot before leaving with him.
Your relationship has improved, you love the effort he's making.
When you broke up, you told him he didn't have time for you, that he never gave you flowers, he never cared for you to feel like you matter to him.
He wants to change that. He wants you to feel validated, and he wants you to feel loved. Because he loves you and would change a thing about you.
"I have a little something for you." You say, picking the little box and putting it in your purse. "Let's go, guapo."
He asks about it, questioning you about the content inside the box. You told him that he has to wait until later to find out.
When you two arrive at his house, you help him with his bag. Talking about something you saw on tv the other day.
"I forgot to tell you, Gavi and Ferran say hi." He says as you walk into his room. Food in hand. "And Ferran wants to know if you can unlock him on Instagram." He laughs.
You laugh with him, promising you will do it later. You left your phone charging downstairs, so he had to wait.
"Do you know what you want to take?" You ask him, your eyes fixed on the screen as you search for your movie. "It's cold, and you have to have some outfits just in case. What if you got an outing that needs something formal?"
He nods. "I have a list on my phone of what I want to take, some cargos, a bumper jacket, the suits are being taken by Dolce."
He pulls a luggage, opening it on the bed so you can help him pick the clothes and help him with organizing.
It was a fun time. You ate while organizing and feeding him most of his food to help him some more.
"Oye." He calls your attention. "I want to speak with you about something."
You nod, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of you. "Tell me."
He takes a deep breath. He needs to be prepared for a bad answer in case you don't feel comfortable with the invitation.
"I want you to know that no matter what, you can say no, and I'll be okay with that." He began saying. "I want you to come with me to the ceremony." He says.
He takes a few more breaths. Trying to prepare himself for the question. "I want you to come with me and my family. I want you all there. My mom, my dad, Fer, and you." He grabs your hands. "The thing here is, I know our relationship is not established as in right now, but I want to know if you would like to come with me as my girlfriend."
You smile. Thumbs caressing his hands.
You need to talk with him before compromising yourself again.
Yes, he did progress. Yes, he did change. Yes, he was better.
But you can't swipe things under the rug. You can't be one of those who start over without making peace with the past.
"Can you sit down with me?"
He nods, taking a seat next to you. He thinks you're saying no, preparing himself for that.
"I want to talk to you." You began. "Before answering your questions, I need you to compromise with me on something."
He nods, already agreeing with whatever you want to say.
"I need you to compromise and tell me if you ever feel like what we have is bothering you. If what we do is making you question our relationship. I want you to be honest with me. To trust me and to be straightforward with how you feel and how I make you feel."
He's surprised, he thought he was getting bad news but no.
"If we are doing this again, Pepi, talk to me." You giggle. "I want your honesty, I want your opinions, I want the long run with you. But I need a compromise." You grab his hands. "I'm not getting younger, I want a family, I want someone to come home to after a long day, after a sad day or just after work. Someone to spend my weekends with watching something or reading a book. And if you can't do that or simply just don't want to. It's okay." You smile at him. "Just be honest."
He frees his hands, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you. "I promise you that I will be the most honest person you'll ever know." He smiles. "I promise that you never were a bother and never will. I want the same as you, I want everything."
You hug him tightly. Sitting on his lap as his hands roam up and down your back.
It felt right. It felt necessary.
You finally got your past to be friends with your present.
"Now about what I asked, if you could answer." He says, giggling a little.
"Yes, to everything." You kiss his lips.
"Also about the gift?" He asks, curious.
"Yeah, you'll wait more than just a few minutes." You say, caressing his cheeks. "But I'll be worthy."
✨️✨️✨️
"Do I look fat in this tuxedo?" Fer asks.
Everyone in the room takes a look at him, questioning if it was the nerves of the situation or if he was serious.
"No." His father says, he wanted to laugh but kept it.
They continue helping with getting ready, leaving soon after everything seems under control.
Pedri and you were alone, finishing with your clothes and looks for the gala. You reassure him that his tux and hair looked good.
"Amor, everything will go the way it is supposed to go." You kiss him quickly. "Trust yourself."
He nods, hugging you to calm his nerves. He can't deny that he's not feeling as confident as he says in the news or interviews.
A knock on the door makes you separate. "Pedri, ready?" His manager asks.
He nods, taking a last look of himself in the mirror. When he's about to leave, your eyes caught the glare of the little box in the nightstand.
"Wait, your gift." You say, walking to the furniture and grabbing the box to take it to him. "Open it before we leave."
You were excited for him to see what's inside. You kept it a surprise until today, knowing he would be less nervous like this.
"How?" He asks, taking the tux bow out of the box. He recognized the piece. "I thought I lost it."
You smile. The bow has a meaning for him. He bought it before leaving to play for Las Palmas. He spent a good part of his savings on it.
"You told me, before leaving the island, that this was the bow you were going to wear when you got your first ballon d'or." You help him with taking the bow he has on and putting the new one in place. "And tonight, this is happening."
He feels his eyes getting teary. He can't help but think about his little self buying the bow at the local shop.
He knew back then that no matter what, he was going to work hard to get into that nominations and into the podium.
And he did.
"Te amo." He kiss you quickly. "Ahora vamos por ese jodido balón." He laughs, making you laugh. (I love you. Now let's go get that damn ballon)
pedri
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pedri De las mejores noches de mi vida ❤️
Thank you Culers for all the love and support. Without you, this wouldn't be happening. This is not only mine but yours too ❤️
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fcbarcelona Our winner 🏆❤️💙
ferrantorres grande hermano ❤️8️⃣🐐
leomessi felicidades Pedri 🐐 bienvenido al club de campeones 💪🏻
🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @mbappe-pedri @coco6514 @coco657 @gavisfanta @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris @dessxoxsworld @girlidekanymore @lanussysworld @largavidaalsol
#football#football fanfic#pedri#pedri gonzalez#pedri x reader#football angst#football x you#football drabble#pedri x y/n#pedri gonzalez imagine#pedri imagine#pedri gif#pedri angst#pedri smut#pedri x you#football smut
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The Fall Out Boy 2001 Demo... and the fact that there's actually two of them!
A few years ago, the wonderful Dave Hofer, who owns the DuPage County Hardcore Archive, uploaded the first Fall Out Boy demo from 2001 onto his archive, revealing its existence to the world. Dave was able to locate both a copy of the CD and the cassette versions of this demo, finding out that limited amounts of CDrs and around 100 cassettes were ever made. The CDr has uncut and unmastered versions of the recordings that later appear on the Project Rocket split, but the cassette contains completely different recordings for the first two songs, while an original song that is found nowhere else called “A Nice Myth” replaces Moving Pictures. The truth is that these are actually two separate demos: the cassette recordings came first. These demos were both made in 2001. For the first demo, the band consisted of Patrick on vocals, Pete on bass, Joe on guitar, and two other members who only lasted for a short time in the band: Ben Rose on drums, and John Flamadan on rhythm guitar. It was recorded on an 8-track in Ben’s basement. That 8-track was later turned into the cassette, of course. Both Ben and John left shortly after, and Jared Logan and TJ Kunasch replaced them on the CDr recordings respectively. What you may not know is there was an even rarer version of the CDr demo made: two types of lathe cuts.
These lathe cuts were posted on Discogs as pictures years before Dave’s discovery, so they sat dormant and undiscovered by FOB fans for a long time. After researching the cassettes and CDs for our archive, we stumbled upon these pictures and were perplexed that nobody has mentioned this version elsewhere before. Although this was not really a “new” discovery, we were still intrigued. We contacted the uploader of the picture, and this is what he had to say:
Hey!! Yeah it's honestly a crazy story on how I acquired it, but I believe it's legit. Basically, a few years back (I think 2018 or 19? The listing on the page for the clear version that sold for $0.50 or something crazy was from me, that's how I bought it). I messaged a guy on here that had the CD added in his collection if he would be willing to send me the mp3s/WAV files for his copy, and he did. We talked for a bit about the band and he said I seemed knowledgeable about the band and asked if I wanted his second copy of the lathe (he had two, one clear, one black). I obviously was like "hell yeah dude" and he said he would ship it to me. Fast forward a few weeks (he lived in Australia or some shit) and low & behold, I actually got the damn thing in the mail, plus two promo trading cards from the TTTYG album cycle, one with Andy & one with Joe. A few years later he messaged me that he got in touch with the dude that made the lathes for the band (he was based in Chicago which makes sense). Apparently 26 copies were cut & only 20 got labels thrown on them, members of the band slapped them on themselves. They were only in white paper sleeves, not any picture sleeves unfortunately. The sound quality on them is actually pretty decent for a lathe made in 2001, which is what leads me to believe it's legit. Also, like you had mentioned, the songs didn't leak until a few years back, when I got it I had never heard these versions (it's just the Project Rocket split versions uncut & unmastered essentially, same versions as the ones that leaked from the CD version. That is pretty much all the info I have on it, I hoped that helped some!!
Cheers from Florida - Jake
He later followed up with:
If I'm not mistaken, I believe the guy I got it from got both the clear and black copies verified to be legit by the guy that made them. Also small detail I forgot to include before, he obtained both copies through a lot of FOB merch from eBay. He was looking to get a complete set of TTTYG trading cards, which is why he bought it. But I know in the lot he also got the two lathes & a demo CD, I forget what else he had mentioned. It's odd that the band hasn't spoken of their existence, maybe they forgot? The lathes were probably more of a novelty item than anything, considering that vinyl wasn't very popular in 2001 & they weren't packaged as "properly" as the CDs & tapes, plus they made a lot less of them. I'm assuming they just kinda got tossed around between friends of the band or got sold at random at their early shows. Either way, it's been one of my prized possessions since I've acquired it, let me know if hou have any other questions on it haha
Currently we have no idea who this elusive Chicago lathe maker is, but maybe we may find out one day. These lathe cuts may possibly be the rarest FOB merch in existence.
Side note: The fact that the top title on the cassette specific insert says "Fallout Boy - Growing Up" and then later lists Growing Up as a song below, it may have been intended to be the title of the cassette, and the song was a title track. This is unconfirmed though.
#fall out boy#joe trohman#patrick stump#pete wentz#andy hurley#fob#chicago hardcore#evening out with your girlfriend#eowyg#fob patrick#fob pete#fallout boy#fob andy#fob joe
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𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒩𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓇 - 𝓅𝒶𝒸 ♡
as always, use discernment and remember you're in charge of your life, readings can be useful tools of guidance ♡ take a deep breath, pick one of the flowers in the image, asking yourself which you feel most drawn to (if any, don't force it!) & proceed to your reading below💕
♡ Yellow Flowers (ace of swords, justice, the three of swords)
Take action! You have clarity and a strong intention in regards to something in your life. Perhaps you have come to an understanding or received a piece of information that is allowing you be equipped in taking the 'next step', whatever that is for you at this time. For some of you this is a message that if there is currently an unfair situation in your life, you will come out on top with your dignity in tact. Even when it's tough, stay honest, true and precise in what you know & believe. You are someone who has strong convictions & intuitive insights, remember to keep your words and perceptions pure & unbiased to remain sharp.
Remember that having true knowledge and understanding requires having a fair mind- be mindful of getting 'tunnel vision' on topics that are close to your heart. For some, this pertains to you being hard on yourself and is a message that you need to be balanced in your self perception to truly make progress.
Another message is that if there's anything you know you need to speak up about, you are being encouraged to do so & to be brave! ♡ I'm once again, as I'm writing this being brought back to the message that you are coming out on top in something. There could be somebody who wronged/hurt you and that's being made right, or you've developed a newfound perspective that's giving you an internal sense of balance & healing. You may be getting justice of some kind for some immense pain or trauma you've endured- and again that justice could be an internal feeling/realisation.
♡ Pink Flower (eight of pentacles, the chariot, the empress)
You are working hard on something- it could be an artistic or academic project, career-related, anything. I see this as a message of encouragement to keep working on it and be proud of your work-in-progress. Whatever it is you're working on is soon going to open doors you've always dreamed of opening. I really see you almost 'levelling up' in life in due time as a result of your efforts. It may seem small right now, but your dedicated, humble work and consistency is going to lead to bigger things and an abundance of recognition, praise and status of some kind. Even if it feels like nobody is paying attention right now or everything seems so unrefined, the work you are putting in now will eventually grant you respect, admiration and potentially lead to a life with abundant financial prosperity & material beauty surrounding you.
I think there is also a message here surrounding allowing yourself and your skills to grow and evolve- remembering that you don't have to be everything you dream of being all at once, it's okay to be a work in progress and know that with time and dedication, you will grow. Time is on your side. Successful people weren't always the people you know them as now- they were once just starting out, with less resources and expertise. Trust that in time you will flourish in the same way!
If anyone who picked this group is working towards something beauty related- perhaps just manifesting feeling more beautiful and embodied- this is a sign that your actions towards refinement + attention to detail will be fruitful and lead to you feeling & presenting as beautiful as you deserve to feel!
♡ Red Flower (eight of wands, 5 of wands, 2 of cups)
There is a sense of good news or positive change in the air for you :) I get the sense that life is going to be getting a little more busy & chaotic for you, but in a good, fresh way. Divine protection can also be a theme for this group. Like your aura is just (or is intended to be) bathing in positive energy. I am seeing that there is some sort of conflict you are overcoming, it could be with a specific person. If you've been fighting a lot/at odds with someone or some people close to you, I see that being resolved and that lifting a huge weight off of your shoulders. For others of you I'm getting a message that there is somebody who seems to always be challenging your positivity. Perhaps for some it's not a person, so much as external influences, media, etc. in general that kinda *tries* to rain on your parade. For some of you I see you confronting that person/thing, but for others I see this as a message to not allow these energies to overtake you. Just let them fly past, don't get involved with the 'dramas' & leave it up to the universe.
People may be making you feel as though your optimism is blind or naive, or this could've been the case in the past. Remember that the only reason they considered your optimism to be blind, was because they themselves couldn't see it. Right now, what belongs to you is joy, excitement, optimism and new opportunities. Have no shame in embracing that regardless of others pessimism/jealousy. I'm sensing that some of you are needing new friends or at least, a circle more on your wavelength that doesn't put you down for your spiritual or positive nature. The right people for you will be the ones who share this positive energy and sense of joy with you and are delighted to have a friend in life who possesses such a quality!
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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Hey,
I'm not 100% sure how this works. Also this is more of an opinion than a question. I just feel the need to brain dump. You are under no obligation to reply. 😁
I fear that First and Khaotung are being wasted at/by GMMTV. They're both stellar actors and seem to have the sensibilities to tackle more serious material.
I feel like coming off Not Me, the themes in The Eclipse kinda went over my head. My fear was and still is that I didn't understand all the nuances. And that's why I felt like the show was lacking. Also I think the very first preview set it up as an entirely different show (more supernaturalmystery/thriller) in my head, so there was a disconnect there as well.
Their next project was Moonlight Chicken where both of them shined as actors but negligibly as a BL pairing. Having said that, they seem to be on very solid ground in the BL fandom - I am referring to their fan meets.
Only Friends was a masterclass of acting as far as FirstKhaotung were concerned (i was all about Ray and Sand), but I think the overall reputation as show that fell flat on its face overshadowed or at least took away (for me) from the gravity of FK.
And now we're here. With The Heart Killers and I am very wary of how Ota all going down. I see that the final trailer got over million views and I'm happy for them, but based on I think the absolute travesty that was OF, my expectations for this show are on the ground.
I really want more of an insight into how projects are picked up and distributed inside GMMTV (if you ha e any, I'm dying to know). I feel like they would benefit greatly from being on a show like PS I Hate You or something like Peaceful Property.
It feels like they're backsliding in terms of material given. Which I am sure is a) not their fault and b) me possibly being weird and dramatic in the wee hours of the morning. But I wanted to get it off my chest and I was reading your previous reviews when I felt, and then gave into the impulse to write to you.
Also I'm a MaxTul girly too and somehow, you made me want to give Make it Right another chance.
Have a great week ahead and keep up the absolutely exceptional work! ❤️
NIHILISTIC! It's great to hear from you! And thank you for the compliments!
TW for girlies out there who are not Nihilistic: this post will contain criticisms of The Heart Killers trailer. Read at your peril, delicate hearts!
I'll go backwards to save the biggest stuff for last. If you write anything about Make It Right, please tag me! @bengiyo and I always give a little DJ air horn to each other when we've nabbed another one into the broader cultural reconsideration of this AMAZING show. MaxTul, man. Nobody beats them! (Okay, almost, Tul admits he wasn't the strongest actor, but. We'll let it slide, dahling!) Chemistry, humor, pride representation, everything, they're great. I yelped when I saw them in Triage!
Okay, so you are a FirstKhao girlie, and you're worried about what The Heart Killers bodes. (Out of transparency, I have The Heart Killers tag filtered because of Only Friends PTSD. I'm gonna filter my own post!) For you, Nihilistic, I just watched the trailer for it.
I will get to all your questions about the GMMTV model in a moment.
Now, out of even MORE transparency, I am watching the MESS that is Kidnap right now, and listen, it's NOT GOOD. I'm fucking not even writing about it anymore, I'm just reblogging the sessy gifs. I am watching it to support Ohm Pawat, and am hoping that this partnership with Leng Thanaphon will hopefully lead to better scripts.... somewhere. (Or at least, better scripts for Ohm at a place like One31 or Channel 3. I also hope Ohm keeps up his anti-branded pair stance, but if GMMTV forces him to pair permanently with Leng, it won't be a fucking surprise, and more on that below.)
To focus specifically on THK for a sec: the THK trailer evoked a lot of what's gone utterly wrong in Kidnap for me. I think writing Thai BL/Series Y scripts to be different, fresh, and innovative, is just going to be really fucking hard, especially for stories featuring branded pairs that MUST end up together in the end. Because we, the viewers, KNOW that they MUST end up together in the end, what kind of mystery and conflict can a script convincingly evoke to keep us, the viewers, engaged and interested in the drama?
A few of us Ohm girlies were excited that Kidnap could have had non-romantic plot points (CRIME!!!) to drive concurrently with a romance plot. There are Series Y that have done this BEAUTIFULLY, particularly Sammon's stories of Manner of Death and Triage.
I'm sorry to say that I didn't get that from the THK trailer, and that THK smells a lot like Kidnap to me. The trailer itself is giving an indication that the "jobs" these guys have as double agents are going to be compromised due to them falling in love. And after the debacle that was Jojo Tichakorn's Only Friends -- a show premised on the exploration of mean, icky, really horny humans, a great place to start an interesting show! -- knowing that THK will HAVE to end up in a romantic place, with FK and JoongDunk being in memorable and memeable entwinements... that's a lot to ask of a show that already isn't making sense by drive, emotion, and tone in its trailer alone. What matters more to these characters? Their work, or their need to be in monogamous relationships? Seems like the latter to me by way of the trailer, which makes me wonder what the point of the plot is. (Joong's chest, probably.) (Gahddayum.)
(I haven't watched the latest episode of Jack & Joker, btw, but I understand that THIS WEEK's episode is ALSO going through something similar, with dead-end and uncommitted plot points all to get to a kiss. Oy.)
To summarize these points and to touch at your question about how GMMTV chooses scripts: GMMTV has an economic model to sell in giving happy endings to their branded pairs, which I wrote about at length in my Old GMMTV Challenge rewatch of The Eclipse. No matter where a script goes, the ending must be memorable and monogamous to satisfy the retweeting hunger of the branded pairs' fandoms, in order for GMMTV's artists to increase online engagement and to maintain earned media values to sell products.
The wonderful @flowerbeasblog noted to me recently that Tha Sataporn, the CEO of GMMTV, said in an interview that as the productions of Series Y in Thailand continues to increase, there is a greater need for more scriptwriting talent across this niche genre, creating competition for more excellent writing. (By comparison, in the States, when streaming services like Netflix and Hulu starting commissioning more original series just about a decade ago, the demand for scriptwriters and excellent writing also went up by incredible scale -- only to come crashing down recently with pandemic and strike-related losses in revenue.) GMMTV's recently announced script competition, Y Find, updated itself last week with a notice that the company would need more time to sift through scripts to judge. In other words: the demand for creative plots is so high at this company that they are literally fielding entries from the general public.
At the same time, Tha Sataporn has been blunt in indicating that "good shows" are not the priority of his GMMTV, and that talent, management, and engagement are his indicators of success. So, economically -- as long as a show hits that happy ending, and gets the girlies excited online with commentary and purchasing power, then the studio has won, in GMMTV's eyes.
ULTIMATELY, Nihilistic: what we are dealing with regarding your concern, as fans and/or critics of Series Y shows, is a conflict of values, among critical fans like ourselves, other fans who only watch shows for romance and shipping, and the economic bottom lines of the studios/agencies themselves. Some of us just want narratively good scripts, like Bad Buddy or He's Coming To Me. Others are content with having a show end with their fave pairs confirmed together in the end, no matter the process of how they got there. Those are different values we hold in watching shows. I appreciate that while you're a fan of the FK branded pair, that you want stronger scripts for them. I do, too, but that's not a value that every fan -- and GMMTV itself -- holds. And I believe that's why we've been seeing more and more mediocre scripts from that studio in particular.
I actually want to note maybe something positive about FirstKhao. Other than The Eclipse, it seems like they haven't been locked into high school or university settings. Only Friends, Moonlight Chicken -- these are shows that show First's and Khao's characters as young adults, and THK is going there, too. I hope they can avoid the university settings as they continue to work.
Is stellar acting wasted at GMMTV? Oh, yes. Besides First and Khao, who I truly think are good actors, we have Gun Atthaphan, Nanon Korapat, and Ohm Pawat -- these three guys are on my list of the best Thai actors out there who have done BL, and they haven't had great scripts in years. (Gun, arguably, has had the best pickings of decent shows recently in Cooking Crush and The Trainee, but they weren't high art; and Nanon's Dirty Laundry was the last Jojo script I was truly impressed by.) All three of these guys were in MOVIES at one point. Those ambitions, on behalf of these actors by GMMTV, seem to have gone by the wayside in preference for a huge economic push to boost branded pair-based series insteads, with their plot holes and guaranteed romances.
I hope the genre's tide turns for the sake of quality scripts, especially at GMMTV, but my hopes are low for this agency at the moment. My joy in Thai shows recently has been in watching past shows for my OGMMTVC. I've been on a lakorn kick lately, having watched The Miracle of Teddy Bear and I'm looking forward to watching Khun Chai soon. Other agencies and studios, like One31 and Channel 3, are breathing down GMMTV's neck and producing more interesting shows, sometimes with branded pairs and sometimes not. Triage only came out two years ago, and that show's trilogy (along with Manner of Death) will end with this year's airing of Spare Me Your Mercy, starring the very likely one-time pair of Tor Thanabob and JJ (Jaylerr) Krissanapoom, two gigantic artists in Thailand who are circling BACK towards the much smaller genre of Series Y for SMYM's sake. I have VERY high hopes and expectations for that show -- and that show is well out of the purview of GMMTV.
I think what you're smelling about the THK trailer is right, Nihilistic -- to me, the trailer isn't cohesive, and jumps already to its forgone conclusion of a romantic end. Unfortunately, for those of us familiar with Jojo Tichakorn's work, we know that if he was given more leeway, he'd likely come up with something more interesting. But now that he has to work with branded pairs -- who are shipped in the eyes of their fan beholders -- he's got a lot less room to be creative and interesting, which ultimately stifles the otherwise excellent acting we'd see from these young men.
#thanks for the ask!#firstkhao#first kanaphan#khaotung thanawat#tw: criticism#the heart killers#jojo tichakorn#kidnap the series
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Moooore descendants 4 incorrect quotes with Glassheart/CharmingHeart (they back)
(and other ships)
Red: Sometimes I get so caught up on being gay that I forget I’m actually bi.
(Girl. Same)
---
Maddox: Man, I’m gonna get fat if you keep feeding me all these chips and junk!
Red: I’M NOT! I was eating them and you took them.
Maddox: You said I should try some!
Red: I said they were good.
Maddox: That’s not how I heard it.
(MADDOX! HIIIII! SOME LOVE FOR YOU TOO BUDDY!)
---
Red: Tomorrow’s the Cooking Contest. Maddox always tells me one thing every year. They say, “You might win if you’d stop eating your entry!” But how would I know whether it’s an award-winning dish without tasting it first? This may be a problem humanity will have to grapple with for eternity.
(AU. Red is a good cook)
---
Chloe: So how’s the food Red made?
Cinderella: It's great! Compliments to them.
Chloe: *goes to the kitchen*
Chloe: You're adorable.
Red: *blushes*
(again. Red is a good cook. She invites the Charmings for dinner and then asks them for their blessing when Chloe leaves)
---
Chad: we could make a boys club!
Maddox: Im non-binary.
Chad:
Chad: Anti-girls club.
(Slay. Also can't decide if Maddox should be green or purple. Maybe even orange but I chose green for now. Will change later if I'm in the mood)
---
Red: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project?
Chloe: Do it or you're straight.
Red: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!
(That's too far, Chloe! Are you mad?!)
---
Chloe: Operation no more distractions is a go!
*not even 10 seconds later*
Chloe: Oh, look! A butterfly!
(She's either laser focused or cannot concentrate at all)
---
Red: *clicks pen*
Maddox: *clicks pen in response*
Queen of Hearts: Stop that.
Red: Stop what?
Queen of Hearts: You’re talking about me in Morse code!
Red: Yes, that’s what we doing. In our very limited time, we took a class on a very outdated, very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you. Congrats, you figured us out!
*later*
Red, to Chloe: That’s actually exactly what we were doing.
(I'm surprised you kept your Head. And they absolutely did learn that because they had nothing else they could do)
---
Chloe: Come on, Chad. Nobody actually believes that Red is in love with me.
Chad, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Red is helplessly in love with Chloe.
*Everyone raises their hand*
Chloe: Red, put your hand down.
(*raises hand* what more evidence do you need??)
---
Chloe: The salary of a clown is 51,000 dollars.
Chloe, gesturing to Chad and Red fighting: And yet these idiots do it daily, and for free!
---
Red: When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was “woah… it’s canon” and I think that maybe thoughts like that is why Chloe made me get tested.
(It is canon now. Headcanon)
---
Chloe: Anything else?
Red: Yeah. Stay away from me!
Chloe: Alright. See you in the room we share
(Literally them. Canon. can also be switched)
---
Queen of Hearts: If looking good was a crime, you’d be a law abiding citizen.
(rather that and not off with my head)
---
Queen of Hearts: We are gathered here today because someone- *glares at Red’s coffin* -couldn’t stay alive!
(Oop-. Damn. She would care more tho. I think..)
---
Queen of Hearts: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away.
Mal: What makes you say that?
Queen of Hearts: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it?
Mal: Your Majesty.. You don't have a clue about this thing, do you?
Queen of Hearts: *screams in anger*
(Just a meeting between two Queens ✨. Canon
---
Queen of Hearts: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’
Maddox: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.
(ssSSHHhhH. Not so loud. Don't want you to lose your head. Canon tho)
---
Red: I’m terrible at expressing myself.
Uma: Don’t worry, actions speak louder than words.
Red: Yes, but my actions are also bad.
(Girl same. Getting advice from the principal ✨ she probably did something 👀)
---
Queen of Hearts: God has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.
(She for real does make it everyone's problem)
---
Hope you liked it!
Wanted to add more but then it would have been too long.
So the next one has more of the OGs
Byeeee
#chloe charming#redcharming#rise of red#glassheart#charminghearts#red of wonderland#descendants 4#princess red#rise of red incorrect quotes#red of hearts#maddox hatter#queen of hearts#bridget of wonderland#cinderella#ella charming#chad charming#uma descendants#mal descendants#mal bertha
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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.
I don't usually put myself out there as it makes me nervous. But I've been a lurker for way too long, and it's about time I step out of my comfort zone. So, hello! I'm Dee (she/her), twenty-two, and have found my voice with storytelling.
Writing has always been a passion of mine, and continues to be the tool I turn to when I need an outlet to freely express myself. I have, unfortunately, hit a rough patch with consistency, and I'm here to bring all of that motivation and inspiration back. Especially since there are one too many WIPs sitting on the backburner, and they're all calling my name.
As someone who loves to dip their toes into every genre of fiction, I will read anything that peaks my interest. However, when it comes to creating, my works usually fall under romance and mystery. With practice, I intend on branching out into other genres I don't write often. There's a lot to explore in the world of writing, and I don't want to limit myself to only two categories.
Creating this blog provides me the space I need to accomplish the many goals I often dream of achieving. I acknowledge that it all starts with the ability to hold myself accountable. To show up for myself. To become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Putting myself and my projects out into the world is only the first of many steps, and it feels quite liberating.
I aim to use the voice I've found to not only contribute to the progression of POC representation, but to touch on several topics that remain heavily stigmatized in today's media. There’s a joy that runs through my veins every time I see someone like me on my screen or in a book. I feel seen, heard, and proud. I feel important. But as a creator, there’s that itch that can only be scratched when I create. When I make something that lets the next person know that they’re not invisible. That they're valued, loved, and appreciated. That's what I hope for when someone reads a project of mine. For them to feel the same rush of joy flowing through them as it does me.
Wow, I’m a yapper. I'd like to close this intro off with some fun facts, so here are some of my top five favorites with sidenotes because I still want to yap a bit more about the things I adore.
SOLO ARTISTS:
ARI LENNOX ✧ ˚ · . CHOCOLATE POMEGRANATE — GET CLOSE — GOAT — POF — UP LATE
HALSEY ✧ ˚ · . 100 LETTERS — I HATE EVERYBODY — NIGHTMARE — ROMAN HOLIDAY — THE LIGHTHOUSE
HOPE TALA ✧ ˚ · . CHERRIES — EDEN — I CAN'T EVEN CRY — LEAVE IT ON THE DANCEFLOOR — SUNBURN
MELANIE MARTINEZ ✧ ˚ · . ALPHABET BOY — DEAD TO ME — EVIL — NOTEBOOK — STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE
HALIMA ✧ ˚ · . DOWNTOWN — FORD CARDINAL — IF LOVE WAS GREEN — SAMANTHA — TALK
BANDS:
5 SECONDS OF SUMMER ✧ ˚ · . AIRPLANES — BETTER MAN — KILL MY TIME — LONG WAY HOME — TEARS!
FALL OUT BOY ✧ ˚ · . BANG THE DOLDRUMS — CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO — HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET — NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER — WHERE DID THE PARTY GO
FLO ✧ ˚ · . CARDBOARD BOX — FLY GIRL — IMMATURE — SUITE LIFE (FAMILIAR) — WALK LIKE THIS
PARAMORE ✧ ˚ · . BIG MAN, LITTLE DIGNITY — CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE — FRANKLIN — MISGUIDED GHOST — PART II
THE INTERNET ✧ ˚ · . DONTCHA — HOLD ON — LOOK WHAT U STARTED — SOMTHING'S MISSING — SPECIAL AFFAIR
GAMES:
CORAL ISLAND ✧ ˚ · . IF I START LISTING NAMES, I'M GOING TO MENTION EVERYONE. BUT I'M A LOYAL MARK GIRL. AND NOAH... AND MILLIE, EVA, BEN, Y—
DISNEY DREAMLIGHT VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . THIS IS SUCH A COMFORT GAME THAT SOOTHES MY INNER CHILD.
DON'T STARVE [TOGETHER] ✧ ˚ · . I MAY OR MAY NOT STILL SUCK AT THIS GAME AFTER A SOLID THREE YEARS, BUT I'M A WIGFRID MAIN.
STARDEW VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . I LOVE SEBASTIAN AND LEAH, AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL IF I HAVE TO.
THE SIMS 4 ✧ ˚ · . WHERE I SPEND A LOT MORE TIME IN CREATE-A-SIM AND BUILD MODE COMPARED TO PLAYING THE ACTUAL GAME.
TROPES:
FAKE RELATIONSHIP ✧ ˚ · . MHM... JUST SAY YOU LIKE EACH OTHER ALREADY.
FATED MATE ✧ ˚ · . I'M A BIT PICKY ABOUT THIS TROPE THOUGH. THINGS TEND TO MOVE VERY QUICKLY BUT I ENJOY IT NONETHELESS.
FRIENDS TO LOVERS ✧ ˚ · . A CLASSIC THAT DOESN'T NEED AN EXPLANATION.
REUNION ✧ ˚ · . ESPECIALLY IF THEY WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THEY REMINISCE OLD MEMORIES, OH MY GOODNESS. I EAT THIS TROPE UP EVERY TIME.
SLOWBURN ✧ ˚ · . NO DOUBT THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE TROPE. THE BUILDUP TO EVEN THE TINIEST PIVOTAL MOMENT ALWAYS MAKES MY HEART THUMP.
TV SHOWS:
CRIMINAL MINDS ✧ ˚ · . YES, I’LL WATCH ALL 16 SEASONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME AND FALL IN LOVE WITH PRENTISS EACH TIME. WE WERE ALSO ROBBED OF BEARDED HOTCH CONTENT.
BRIDGERTON ✧ ˚ · . DO I CRY EVERY TIME I WATCH GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE'S STORY? YES. WILL I CONTINUE TO REWATCH IT AND RECITE THE LINES EVERY TIME SOMETHING REMINDS ME OF IT? ASOLUTELY.
THE BEAR ✧ ˚ · . I WISH I KNEW OF AYO EDEBIRI BEFORE THIS SHOW BECAUSE THAT WOMAN IS AMAZING??? LIKE, HELLO???
THE EQUALIZER ✧ ˚ · . *mini spoiler* STILL CAN'T STOP THINKING OF DANTE'S GRIN WHEN HE GOT TO SEE MEL, ROB, AND HARRY'S LITTLE WORK SPOT FOUR SEASONS LATER.
SWEET MAGNOLIAS ✧ ˚ · . HELEN, MADDIE, AND DANA SUE IS HOW I PICTURE MY FRIENDS AND I IN THE FUTURE. MARGARITA NIGHTS, BEING AUNTIES TO EACH OTHER'S CHILDREN, UGH. I LOVE THEM WHOLEHEARTEDLY.
And that concludes this introduction on me and this blog. I would love to connect and befriend other authors, so please don't hesitate to reach out as my DMs will always be open! I'd love to support and read your works, so don't be hesitant to share them with me if you'd like.
I hope you all will enjoy reading my works as much as I enjoy the process of bringing my ideas to life.
divider creds to strangergraphics ♡
#writeblr#blog intro#writeblr intro#writeblr community#writing community#writing on tumblr#writers on tumblr#writing#authors#writers#i did not expect for this to get as long as it did my oh my
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seeing double
summary: Milo keeps getting mistaken for Miles and he's like really over it wc: ~500' a/n: I feel like I've just been writing heavy-ish stuff non-stop so I thought I'd just do something for the sillies. Here is my masterlist for more Stuff
“Yo, Miles, we got a problem–oh.”
Milo gave Ganke Lee an icy glare from where he sat on the stoop in front of his house. The husky Korean boy had met his twin brother in ninth grade, and the two became fast friends. They were not close enough, apparently, for Ganke to avoid occasionally mistaking the two boys and spilling bits and pieces of secret plans that Milo was decidedly not a part of. Like being fucking Spider-Man. The braids seemed to help, though not by a large margin.
Milo pulled back his purple hoodie to reveal them, for emphasis.
“Yeah, wrong guy,” he said flatly. “Need me to text him?”
Ganke tensed.
“Um, nah, I think I’ll be able to find him.”
Milo scoffed. “Scared you’re gonna spill his lil’ ‘secret identity’?”
The other boy’s eyes widened.
“You…You know?”
“I know how to put two and two together, Lee. Now do you need me to text him or not?”
Ganke pursed his lips for a second, then shrugged. “Tell him the Goblin’s loose again. See ya.”
He gave a quick salute, then began to jog back in the direction he came from.
The rest of Miles’ week went about the same way:
“Miles, how’s the art project coming along?”
“I’m not Miles.”
“We miss you, Miles!”
“Not Miles, but I’ll pass the message along.”
“Miles, it's not funny. Let's go.”
“I'm. Not. Miles!”
You struggled to tug your boyfriend along behind you before the showing time for the movie you two had picked out rolled around. The tight new cornrows sitting on top of his head seemed to be cutting off the flow to his brain, because he seemed to have no idea what you were talking about.
“We're gonna be late!”
“Late to what?”
Fully on the brink of giving up, you dropped his hand and spun around to face him.
“Look, do you wanna go or not? You can't keep flaking on me like this, this is the third time–”
“And it won't happen again!”
There, jogging up to you in a white sweatshirt, hair very clearly un-braided, was Miles.
You blinked hard a few times, then looked back at Not Miles, who had his arms crossed in irritation.
“Yo, your girl tried to kidnap me just now,” he snapped. “Can you not be late to everything?”
The real Miles glanced between you and his twin for a moment before bursting into a wheezing fit of laughter.
“It's not funny!” You both said in unison as he held his stomach.
After wiping a tear from his eye and regaining his composure, he gestured towards Not Miles.
“You wanna introduce yourself first?”
Not Miles sighed.
“Milo Morales. My real name's Manuel, but I don't want nobody calling me ‘Manny’, so I go by Milo. Don't forget it.”
You narrowed your eyes at Miles.
“Why didn't you tell me you had a brother with the same face as you?”
He shrugged.
“Wasn’t important information at the time.”
“ ‘Wasn't important’– I almost took your brother out on a date by accident!”
“You're not my type.”
“Alright, look,”
Miles took your hand. His palm was softer than Milo's, you noted.
“I'll explain at the movies, I promise.”
Your expression softened, and you squeezed his hand back.
“You'd better.”
“See you at home?” Miles turned to Milo, who was already stalking off in the other direction with his hands in his pockets.
“Whatever, man!”
#the x reader bit is kinda secondary here which is interesting idk why i did that#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles morales x black!reader#miles morales fic#moralesanhour
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Gauging Interest in an Idea
I've noticed a couple notes on the original scorpion post along the lines of "wouldn't it be fun to engage in Bestiary Telephone and try to draw animals based on garbled descriptions?" And I was like, that wouldn't be hard to simulate, just find a friend to read you bestiary entries but not tell you what the animal is... and then I had a Thought.
I have access to an academic library and a reasonable fluency in Old and Middle English. I bet I could find a transcription of a bestiary in one of those languages, do a quick-and-dirty modern translation of each entry, and post them on here once a week with the actual names of the animals replaced by nonsense words or something.* Then people could try and draw them, with the same amount of information a medieval artist who had never seen this animal would have had access to.
*Yes, translations of bestiaries do already exist (I even have one on my shelf right now) but I don't know of any that are public domain and so I think it might be Not Cool for me to basically serialize the entire text on this blog.
I figure anyone who wants to play can post their drawings of the week's animal on their own blog using the randomly-generated nonsense-name as a tag, then at the end of the week I can round them up, link to the artists, and reveal what animal the text was actually describing. (No guarantee that the animal actually... exists, though. Lots of made-up critters found their way into these bestiaries over time.)
Before I get into finding & translating a source, though, I want to make sure there are at least a few people out there who would be interested in participating, because if nobody wants to draw stuff, then it's just a translation exercise for me, which, while fun, isn't an ideal use of my time. So:
I'm setting the poll for one week, and if there seems to be sufficient interest, I'll start getting the text together. (It'll probably take a couple weeks after that to get started, because I do have other projects and whatnot.)
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𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬—modern mizu x reader
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Hey dears!
This is my first fic in this blog. I'm quite nervous since it's been years since I wrote something creative and something outside of academics.
Yes, it's a popular song nowadays and I do only listen to selected songs by the artist. Might leave this be or might create a part 2. Let's see <3 Regardless, I hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa!
Update: Since I love ya'll, here's part two: mwa!
warning: not proofread, smut (mdni please!), she/her for mizu and implied afab reader, mention of virginity and bleeding
oh yeah, mizu is your ex-gf for this one.
I don't really know if she cares or not All I know is she left a lot of stuff in my apartment She's never getting back
It had been a few weeks since you and Mizu broke up. She had initiated it during the middle of the semester. You were too stressed out with your project and being in a demanding program, and to her, you were just too much.
That was not to say she didn't try.
She did.
She absolutely fucking tried her best.
Going out of her way to buy you meals even if she was busy too, buying the materials you needed, letting you cry against her, and even doing some of the parts you struggled with despite not even having a clue on what to do. Nobody could tell her she never even tried.
But like anything else, if it gets used to it, it gets tired. The constant fighting and the amount of time she had gone to bed with a heavy heart was draining her.
A few days after your break up, you had come and collected your things from her apartment. Her heart sunk as your frown greeted her upon opening the door. With the cardboard boxes behind you and your friend in the driver's seat waiting for you, it was clear to her that you were there to take back what was yours that both of you once claimed were 'ours'.
The once happy and comfy abode becoming gloomy and cold as the trinkets you have displayed, the clothes you claimed are still clean, and the books you bought but never read were now gone.
It was just her and her thoughts. Her and her memories with you.
And as the smell on my pillow fades Her cigarettes might stay Like a Roman Coliseum A dry and worthless monument to our love
A sigh escaped her lips as she laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The bed that was once so warm with plushies and fluffy blankets was now cold. She rolled over and looked at what was once your side of the bed. Your pillow still smelled faintly of you, a smell that brought her so much joy and comfort.
As she leaned closer to the pillow and closed her eyes, allowing herself to take in the fading scent from your pillow, the image of you laying down beside her appeared in her mind.
"Good morning.." You whispered groggily, giving her a sleepy yet angelic smile. Your cheek against the pillow as the rays of the morning sun shone against your hair, giving it a brighter hue than it usually had.
A small, almost unseen, smile appeared on Mizu's lips. Her long, slender fingers tucking in a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture sent a shiver down your spine, making you grip the blanket closer to your bare chest, covering the love bites and hickeys she had given you. Her sharp blue eyes scanning every detail of your face. The way your cheeks was subtly smushed against the pillow, the flutter of your eyelashes as you blinked, the way your pupils dilated as you stared back at her.
You purse your lips as you stared back, a glint of mild amusement swirling with the admiration you had for your girlfriend. "What..?" you chortled, leaning closer to her.
"Nothing." She gently pulled you closer, hand giving the plush of your ass a light playful squeeze. "Just admiring..."
I still have your lighter I still have your book I still have everything you brought, but you never took
Mizu let out a groan, opening her eyes to the dull sight of her wall. "That's right.. She's gone.' she thought, rolling her eyes at herself for even feeling a bit of joy reminiscing about you beside her.
Pushing herself up, her hand reached onto her bedside table to grab a cigarette. Her back rested against the bedframe, she placed the cig between her lips. A Marlboro Red. Before you, she used to smoke blues, a recommendation by Taigen that never left her.
That was until she met you.
After meeting you, she went from smoking a pack or two a day to chewing on gum. It wasn't because you convinced her to quit or to appeal to you. It was because she wanted all of you. The taste of your lips, the taste of your tongue—hell, even the taste of your perfume when she pulled you in. She wanted it all.
Now, she was back to smoking. Your absence leaving a pit in her and an odd sense of loneliness in her mouth. This time, she was smoking reds, a want to forget your taste to cope with the ache you left.
Well, she was about to, but when her hands reached into her drawer for a lighter, she found none.
A small "what the fuck?" left her lips as she sat up straight, pulling the bedside drawer out fully to search for the small metal lighter she always kept. Eyebrows knitting together, she pulled out every item in her drawer but to no avail. Her lighter was not there.
What she found, however, was a book. Your book. It was already unwrapped and some corners folded in place of a bookmark. Her heart stopped as she inspected it, hand taking the cigarette from between her lips and onto her ashtray.
Mizu opened the book and began reading from the page where you left off. After scanning over the words printed on the novel, she set it down before letting out a huff of bittersweet amusement. Yup, this book was definitely hers now.
It was a mature novel. A damn fucking smutty novel.
"Mizu.." You called out, a sly yet playful look on your face. You walked over to her desk with the book in your hand, finger slipped in between the pages.
She looked up from the computations she was doing, head turning towards you. "What is it?"
Your hands opened the book, placing it on top of her notebook. Her eyes scanned the paragraphs you highlighted, eyes narrowing as she read out the graphic descriptions of the characters shoving their digits inside each other, each word describing the erotic sounds made and the intensity of the arousal the characters felt.
She gulped, swallowing the pooling saliva at the back of her mouth as she handed the novel back to you. "What...do you mean by this?" she asked carefully, cautious not to embarrass herself by revealing how the written scene made her feel some sort of heat between her legs.
Hands slipped down between her legs, eliciting a groan from the usually stoic woman as you slid your hands down. "Mizu." You bent down to her height and tossed the closed book on top of her desk, knocking the pens and pencils further back.
"I want to do that too."
You know where to find me And I know where to look
The scene replayed in her mind like a video tape. The way you looked at her with such want. The way she pushed you down roughly against the bed, hand taking off your dress with such desire she almost ripped it by the seams. The way your eyes looked up at her as if waiting for her to continue, demanding her to continue.
Your back arched against the mattress, hands gripping the sheets as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Fuck.." Mizu breathed out, watching the strap-on sink in to your glistening cunt. A choked back moan escaping your lips as you bit your cheeks in, tears springing from the corner of your eyes as the plastic stretched you further.
"Halfway in, dove." She groaned out, eyebrows furrowing as if she could feel you through the toy, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs harder.
Your eyes glanced at her before rolling back as she pushed the strap-on further inside, the pain of the stretch making you whimper. "W-Wait...please.." You moaned in a whiny, slightly pained manner, a hand moving from gripping the sheets to gripping Mizu's arm.
Her movements halted immediately upon feeling your nails against her arm, digging into it and creating crescent-shaped marks. Her eyes traveled from the pained-yet-pleasured expression on your face to your hole.
"Holy shit..." She whispered, pulling out a bit to see it clearly. Blood. You were fucking bleeding. "Dove...I'm so fucking sorry. I—"
She was cut off by you pulling her down for a kiss. Your hands wrapped around her as your nails dug on to her shoulder, eliciting a moan from her. Mizu had no idea you were a virgin. It was never a piece of information she had considered nor cared about until now. In fact, her concern was placed on the fact that you were bleeding.
Her eyes widened as she felt your legs wrapping around her back, pulling her closer and pushing the toy in more. "Take it..." You moaned out, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck me...take me"
You were offering yourself to her, letting her take your first time.
Mizu's eyes narrowed, the feeling of worry disappearing as it was replaced by a carnal desire. Her hands gripped your trembling thighs harder as she lifted them up more and pushed you down further, almost knocking all the air out your lungs as she put you in a mating press position.
Her hips pushed the toy inside you, biting her lip at the wet squelching noise your pussy made. A moan escaped both your throats as the length of the toy was fully inside you. She paused for a moment before looking at you with narrowed eyes as if asking you for consent to continue.
The moment you nodded, she immediately pulled the toy almost all the way out before pushing it completely, eliciting a loud moan from you. Her hips continued to move, motion starting of slow but hard. The pain from your nails raking down her back stung, but she continued to move, not even bothering to move your hands.
How could she?
The sight of you taking her, all of her, like the good girl you are was scrumptious.
"Hurry...please.." You pleaded, thoughts blanking out as the pleasure overrode the pain you were previously in. Each thrust sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. The pleads coming from your mouth becoming incoherent as Mizu thrusts in faster and harder.
She gripped your chin, forcing you open your mouth before capturing you in another kiss. Her tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth, smiling slightly as she tasted you. Her eyes watching over your expression as she moved, taking in the way your eyes looked at her and the way it rolled back when she thrusted the dildo in roughly.
Your legs trembled as you continued to lock her in, pushing against her more. Incoherent moaning and whining mixed with low groans and grunts filled the room. The tightening feeling building up inside you as Mizu continued to move. Her thumb rubbed against your clit, making you moan almost desperately.
It didn't take long for your climax to come, a wave of pleasure bursting in you. She placed her hand against the small of your back as you arched against her. The way you closed your eyes shut, the way your eyebrows furrowed, the tears of pleasure that streamed down your face, the way your cheeks flushed. You were so fucking beautiful to her.
Mizu snapped back into reality, rubbing her face against the palm of her hands in frustration. The regret of breaking up settling in her. She stood up and placed the cigarette between her lips again. Her feet making no noise as walked over to the kitchen to grab the kitchen lighter she kept in cabinets, lighting the red and taking a puff out of it.
A groan escaped her lips as the self-hatred from making such a foolish decision sunk into her. After a moment of thought, she put on her dark biker jacket and a bunch of rings she put on as a habit before going out.
There was no way she'll let herself live in regret like this. Not after you let her take all of you.
Call it thieving, stealing, but she's taking back what's not hers.
Thievin', stealin', takin' what's not yours
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