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itneverendshere · 7 months ago

Note

hiiii, i just read the school spirit fic with rafe AND ITS THE BEST FUCKING THING. i need a part 2 desperately please, i need rafe to play the best game he is ever played and everyone it’s like wtf but like omg. AND THE LAST GOL HE LIKE DEDICATES IT TO READER POINTING TO THE BLEACHERS. and then reader just goes with it and they fuck… please i need it

you ask and you shall receive! hope you enjoy <33

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part ii

warnings: smut! paring: smart!reader x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; read part i here; part iii word count: 4.7k

you were losing your fucking mind.

what were you thinking? oh, right! you weren’t.

the entire situation felt surreal, but there was no backing down now.

plus, when did some little dick hurt your feelings?

it was a win-win like you said before. if he won, you got laid after months without feeling a human's touch. if he lost, you wouldn't get laid and just walked away. either way, you’re not entirely disappointed with the outcome.

or at least that’s why you’ve been telling yourself.

as you walked to the stadium, your heart pounded in your chest, legs threatning to give out underneath you. yeah, you were a little nervous. but you blamed it on pope for giving you so much shit about the game.

he’d been insistent on you learning the rules, the players’ names, even memorizing their more common plays. it felt like he was trying to coach you into a small version of josé mourinho.

everyone knew you were not the type to get invested in sports, let alone a college soccer match, but today was different and you were stupid enough to let your best friend convince you to wear a stupid jersey with rafe’s name and number on it.

13.

of course that walking disaster of a man would choose the unlucky number for himself.

as you entered the stadium, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming. the chants, the cheers, the jeers—had you mentioned this was your first time watching a game? in real life? you knew people took this seriously, but it felt absolutely insane to witness it.

you could see the players warming up on the field, rafe among them.

he looked so different out there, focused and intense, very different to the reckless, unpredictable guy you were used to.

you followed pope like a lost puppy, and quickly found your seats in the stands, right in the middle of a sea of fans. some were dressed in the team's colors, others wore jerseys like yours, proudly displaying their favorite player's name and number. you felt out of place, a fraud among true fans, but there was no turning back now.

“turn that frown upside down, you gonna scare the bitches away.”

you rolled your eyes, “stop calling everyone bitches.”

from the corner of your right eye, you saw pope leaning closer, and without so much of a glance, you could tell he was about to spew out something stupid to piss you off.

“why are you so tense, hmmm? you’re getting laid tonight bro, cheer up!”

your hand instantly lifted to knock some sense into his head, “keep it down!” you hiss in his ear, “jesus.”

he just laughed, entirely unfazed by your irritation. “relaxxx, no one’s paying attention to us,” he said, casually draping an arm over the back of your seat. “they’re all too busy worshipping our soccer gods.”

you couldn’t help but glance around, noting the faces of fans who seemed to live and breathe for this moment. it was a different world, one you never quite understood.

you looked back at the field, your eyes finding rafe again. he was in his element, effortlessly moving through the warm-up drills, every motion proof to his athleticism. for a moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate the view. his jersey clung to his body, emphasizing muscles you hadn’t really paid attention to before…closely.

“hey,” pope nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie. “you’re drooling.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at your lips, “i’m assessing the task.”

“don’t worry. rumor has it he’s big.”

you shot pope a glare, half-amused and half-exasperated. "do you ever shut the fuck up?"

pope just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’m dead serious.”

you were quiet for a minute. eyes drifting along rafe’s body, stopping—

“how big?”

“what?”

“how big.” you muttered under your breath, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack your friend for his relentless teasing.

he only sent you a wink, “you’ll find out soon enough sweetcheeks, it’s okay.”

"you’re so annoying," you gritted trough your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, “so annoying.”

pope just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "the game’s starting, enjoy the view.”

the game started, and you tried to follow along, remembering pope's endless lectures. but rafe was everywhere, moving with a kind of grace you didn't know he possessed, toned legs carrying effortlessly across the field.

you watched him, transfixed, as he commanded the team, shouting orders and making plays. it was like seeing a different side of him, a side you couldn't reconcile with the rafe who caused so much chaos in the library. it was kinda hot. when he touched the ball, your heart leaped into your throat. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him.

then, it happened.

he dribbled past defenders as if they were mere obstacles in his way and then, he unleashed a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air, a perfect arc that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot. time seemed to slow down as everyone watched with bated breath. then, the net rippled as the ball slammed into the back, and the stadium exploded.

"and cameron with an explosive start here! just six minutes into the game, and he's already showing us why he's a force to be reckoned with. that was a textbook example of skill and determination, folks! he saw the opportunity, he seized it, and he made it count! our boy is back!”

“holy fuck!” pope all but screamed in your ear as the crowd went wild, “what the hell did you tell him?!”

you turned to him, still sitting, momentarily speechless, as the realization sunk in that maybe, just maybe, your unconventional motivation had really ignited something within rafe.��

"i don't know," you managed to shout back, your voice drowned out by the crowd. but deep down, you knew. maybe it wasn't about the specifics of what you promised but the audacity of your offer that spurred him on.

as the game rolled on, rafe's presence on the field took over. every move he made sparked cheers and chants from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere. it was a far cry from your usual indifference to sports, but you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of it all.

in every pass, every interception, and every almost-goal, whenever he got the ball, the whole stadium seemed to hold its breath, as did you, waiting to see what he'd do next.

you were a hypocrite.

because he scored, again.

when you thought, he was done showing off and making you eat your last week’s words up, you saw him turn to the stands after he celebrated the last goal with his teammates and your heart dropped to your ass.

there was no way in hell he was going to find you in that sea of people, right? you were safe. he was scanning the crowd, your section...searching for... you.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, trying to shrink into your seat.

“yeah, that’s on me. sorry. told him your seat.”

if you weren’t about to puke, you would’ve punched pope in the face, instead you chose to keep your head down, eyes rooted to your beat up adidas, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“he’s coming up.”

you lifted your head, looking at pope incredulously, “he’s what?! pope, don’t fuck with me.”

“i’m sorry it was just too funny,” pope snickered, shaking his head, “he’s not coming, but he’s staring at you with those love-sick puppy eyes.”

you reluctantly glanced down to find him staring directly at you, chest heaving as he brushed a few stubborn strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead.

you almost, key word almost, gasped at you handsome he looked.

then a grin spread slowly across his lips. without breaking eye contact, he subtly raised his hand, a gesture only you could understand.

and it hit you. it was a callback to your shared sign language class in freshman year.

how the fuck did he remember that? you didn’t. not until he did it.

hi beautiful.

you’d never felt the need to swoon over a man before. now you might. after what feels like an eternity, but were just mere seconds, you gathered your courage and raised your hand, mirroring his sign for a simple "hi" and adding a tentative smile.

it was an easy gesture, but it felt…different. rafe's smile widened in response before he turned to run back into the field.

pope, ever the instigator, nudged you again. "that was smooth.”

the glare returned to your face.

the rest of the game unfolded in a blur. rafe continued to dominate the field, scoring goal after goal with precision and skill that left you in awe. each time he celebrated, you found yourself holding your breath.

when the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted in celebration, your jaw was nearly on the floor.

had he played like that his entire life? was this the same boy that you threatened to punch in the face if he didn’t get his life together? the team's victory was clear—a resounding 4-0 win.

"remember that name, folks—rafe cameron. he's not just a player; he's a game-changer. and with plays like that, he's proving why he's a standout talent on this field today!"

"well," pope finally managed to say, his voice tinged with disbelief, "looks like you're in for a ride."

you could only nod dumbly as you watched rafe celebrate with his teammates, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

you swore you even saw him hug jj.

as the stadium began to empty, you lingered in your seat, watching as rafe disappeared into the locker room with his team to shower. eventually, you gathered your belongings and followed pope out of the stadium.

“you gonna wait for him here?”

“i don’t know,” you groaned, itching to warm your freezing hands, “didn’t plan ahead.”

"so..." pope started again, "what's the plan now? going to find him?"

“i told—“

you were about to drill some common sense into pope when you feel something touch your back. not just something. a warm, blazing palm settling at the end of your back.

you froze, your heart racing as the warmth seeped through your jacket.

“cameron, nice game, for once.”

ignoring pope’s teasing, you leaned your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. and there he was. looking at you with that same confident tilt on his pretty lips that had both infuriated and intrigued you countless times before.

"hey," rafe said, his voice slightly breathless from the intensity of the game and the excitement still coursing through him.

"hey," you managed to reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh okay. i get it.”

rafe glanced over at pope with a knowing smirk. "thanks for coming out, man.”

“you’re welcome by the way.”

rafe ignored the comment, eyes remained fixed on you. "glad you could make it," he said, his tone softer now.

“okayyy, i’m leaving. stay safe, byee!”

“pope,” you yelled out as he excused himself, “my doorm keys are in your car.”

“that sounds like a you problem.”

you stared after pope, mouth slightly agape, as he disappeared into the crowd. you'd have to figure that out later. for now, there was rafe, standing so close that the air between you didn’t seem enough.

"guess we're stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual, mentally cringing at how stupid it sounded.

rafe only chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin, "seems like it."

“sooo—“

before you could finish your sentence, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

and then he kissed you

it was messy, sensual, and bruising all at once. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. instead, you matched his intensity, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much need. it felt like you were losing your fucking mind, but you didn't care.

he just felt so good.

his hands roamed up your lower back, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into him. his kiss was demanding, with a sense of deep-seated need that you hadn’t anticipated.

your fingers tangled in his hair, wondering if you’d ever get the chance to do this again after tonight. when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you tried to regain your composure.

his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, “we’re leaving now.”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “now?”

“yeah, now.” rafe’s voice was resolute, leaving no room for argument.

he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. oh wow, you liked this.

“what are you doing?” you managed to gasp out, clinging to his shoulders for stability. he was so fucking strong it nearly made you want to eat him whole.

“taking you to bed,” he replied, his voice low, “we’ve got unfinished business.”

the walk to his dorm? you couldn’t remember.

you were acutely aware of the curious stares from other students, but you didn’t care. maybe the day after.

rafe cameron was carrying you on his arms inside his fraternity and when he finally reached his dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot, carrying you inside, before locking it. he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

there was a fire there, an intensity that made your knees weak.

“that wasn’t fair, y’know."

your brows furrowed in confusion.

“tempting me for weeks.”

“well—i didn’t think—nmph!”

his lips were on yours again, the kiss just as desperate as before. you melted into him, your body pressing against his as you gave in to the sensation of his hands exploring your back, pulling you closer. your fingers fumbled to remove his shirt. he’d showered after the game but you were still wearing his jersey. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, enjoying at the hard planes of his body.

his hands found the hem of your own jersey, “you’re gonna wear this to every game, you hear me?”

you tilted your head to the side, in mock confusion, “who said i'm going to your games?”

he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin as his hands worked to pull the jersey over your head.

“oh, baby. you will. you won’t be able to stay away.”

“confident, are we?” you teased, even as your breath hitched at the way his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“you’ll see.”

he was kissing you.

again.

more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you reveled in the feeling of being wanted so intensely. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

you felt the hard press of him against you, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted you. he carried you over to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements.

he hovered over you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your body, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went along.

you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. “then stop talking and show me.”

that was the only warning rafe needed.

his hands were everywhere—tugging at your shorts, tracing the curves of your body, driving you wild with anticipation. he finally rid you of your remaining clothes, and you couldn’t help but shiver as the cool air hit your heated skin. but it didn’t last long, not with his body pressing against yours, his warmth enveloping you.

you lost yourself in the sensation—the taste of him, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the way he pressed into you.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

“god, yes,” you all but mewled, your hands clutching at his sheets, needing him to just do something, “need you to touch me right now.”

his fingers trailed down your body with deliberate slowness, “tell me how.”

you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate what you needed. your mind was a haze of want and need, every nerve ending screaming for him.

but somehow, you managed to speak, “everywhere.”

a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he dipped his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing and kneading as his mouth worked its magic.

“like this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

son of a bitch.

“yeah, oh, just like that,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his blonde hair, holding him close. “don’t stop.”

he didn’t.

his mouth and hands continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you up the fucking walls. his lips trailed down your stomach, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake.

oh you needed to be fucked all right.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area.

“rafe,” you pleaded, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent demand, “don’t be a dick.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “so needy,” he teased, but his voice was filled with reverent awe.

without further warning, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving into your folds with a hunger that made you cry out. he licked and sucked, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devoured you.

this man ate pussy like the champion that he was and you loved it.

his tongue flicked against your clit with precision, with ease. rafe was relentless, his mouth working you to the brink, then easing off just enough to keep you on edge.

“fuck, rafe,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more.

he growled in response, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure, and you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. he must have sensed it, because his pace quickened, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with the throbbing need building inside you.

your head was spinning as you looked down at him and met his heavy-lidded gaze searing a path straight to your core. you could only grab his bicep for stability, digging your nails into his skin.

and then, with a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, you came apart, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. rafe didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding you through your climax until you were a boneless, quivering mess beneath him.

you never came so fast in your life.

when he lifted his head, his lips glistened with your arousal as he crawled back up your body. he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, the sensation of his weight pressing you into the mattress grounding you as you came down from your high.

“holy shit,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “good job, cameron.”

he grinned, a boyish, cocky smile that somehow made you want him even more. “glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured, his voice a rough, sexy whisper against your lips.

you reached down, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, desperate to feel him inside you.

“your turn,” you pulled his shorts down enough to free his cock. it sprang free, hard and heavy, and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly.

oh wow.

so big big.

your hand moved around rafe’s cock lazily, feeling its weight and heat in your palm. he hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch. you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of him—so strong, so utterly at your mercy.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” rafe muttered, his voice strained with need. he watched your hand with hooded eyes, his hips thrusting slightly in time with your movements.

you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him.

you grinned up at him, loving the way his breath hitched with every stroke. “don’t like it?”

his laugh was breathless, shaky. “oh, i do. but this—” he broke off with a groan as you squeezed him a little harder, “—this is something else.”

without breaking eye contact, you guided him towards your entrance, positioning him at your slick opening. he paused, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

“condom?”

you nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. “yeah.”

rafe reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before retrieving a condom. you watched, heart racing, as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet of the room. he rolled it on swiftly, his movements sure and practiced. with the condom in place, he positioned himself between your legs.

he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until you thought you might break. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that made you gasp, you were holding on for dear life as he filled you completely.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, his hands cradling your face tenderly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “’m good. just—move.”

rafe didn’t need any more encouragement.

he started to thrust, slow and deep, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. his pace increased, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more frantic.

“can’t believe— fuck, oh, this is happening.”

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice breaking with every thrust. “just—don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. he rubbed it in tight, relentless circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being.

“fuck, that’s it,” rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grip on your hip tightening ,“so fucking beautiful.”

his lips found yours in an all-spit kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched the relentless pace of his hips. your fingers dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"oh fuck," you gasped, breaking the kiss as the sensations overwhelmed you, “rafe,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, “i’m—”

“i know,” he cut you off, his voice strained. “me too.”

you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body on fire. and then you were falling, your orgasm crashing over you, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms.

your climax triggered his own, and seconds later with a few more powerful trusts, he buried himself deep inside you, body shuddering as he came, his moans low and hot in your ear.

you held onto him, feeling the rhythmic pulses of his release, the raw, primal intensity of it making your head spin.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both trying to catch your breath, your bodies still intertwined. then, rafe rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were lying against his chest.

you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. you lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. you felt strangely happy, considering everything that had led to this moment, but you didn’t want to question it.

“so,” his fingers trailed lazily up and down your arm, “does this mean you’re coming to my next game?”

“not sure.”

the sensation of rafe still inside you, combined with the aftermath of your shared orgasm, left you both in a haze of pleasure.

but you weren’t done yet.

there was a need within you that demanded more, a desire to push the boundaries even further.

you slid out from beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. his blue eyes widened slightly as he watched you, curiosity and anticipation written all over his face. you settled yourself between his legs, your hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs before wrapping around his still-hard cock, after you pulled and tied the condom, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner.

“w—what are you doing?”

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, you focused on stroking him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the pulse of his desire beneath your fingers. rafe groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

overstimulation was a bitch. so were you sometimes.

“you won, right?” you replied, your voice sultry. “here’s your prize.”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “are you trying—oh fuck. trying to kill me?”

you smirked, increasing the pace of your strokes, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. “is that a complaint?”

“not even close,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

you could see the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing, his breaths coming faster. you leaned down, letting your tongue flick over the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of him. he jerked, a guttural groan escaping his lips, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

“baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you took him deeper into your mouth, your hand still working the base of his shaft, “shit.”

you reveled in the power you had over him, the way his body responded to your every touch, your every movement.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him hard. his hands moved to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, but not forcing you.

it only made him hotter.

the sounds he made, the way he writhed beneath you, only spurred you on. you wanted to push him over the edge, to see him come again because of you. you pulled back slightly, your hand pumping him faster, your mouth focusing on the sensitive head, your tongue swirling around it, teasing him mercilessly.

“’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening. “please, don’t stop.”

you had no intention of stopping.

you increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, driving him towards his release. you felt his body tensing even more, his breaths coming in ragged pants, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled himself into you with a hoarse cry.

you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, the satisfaction of knowing you had pushed him to this point. when you finally pulled back, rafe was a panting mess, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling.

“you just made me fall in love with you, again.”

"what?"

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leclercsainzz · 3 months ago

Text

GOOD FOR YOU

PAIRINGS: nicholas alexander chavez x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

A/N: saw an edit of him w/ this song and had to make a smau based on it:)

yourusername

📍 monte-carlo, monaco

liked by nicholasalexanderchavez, bellahadid and 677,810 others

yourusername: 🇲🇨

view 5,037 comments

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nicholasalexanderchavez

liked by yourusername, chloessevigny and 748,027 others

nicholasalexanderchavez: MONSTERS: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story is streaming now only on @netflix

tagged: @cooperkoch @bardenmantarctic @chloessevigny

view 5,027 comments

user: the series was inaccurate but you and cooper killed it

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yourusername

liked by drewstarkey, madelyncline and 704,017 others

yourusername: <3

view 5,037 comments

user: i was so convinced she was with drew

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user: ooooh he buff buff

madisonbaileybabe: face card never declines, oml 😍

user: that’s a HOT back omggg—

user: girl, give us a hint, please

user: the fourth slide 😩

user: whoever he is, he’s HOT ASF

user: he looks hot, yn’s hot, i love hot people

user: pretty girl

user: and people said that it was that formula one driver 💀

madelyncline: sexyyyy

user: i NEED to know who this man is

user: it’s giving ✨ nicholas alexander chavez ✨

↳ user: LMAOOO, that’s a stretch

user: sexy backkk

user: my wife’s got a boyfriend 😭

user: bItchh- i wanna know who it is

user: tag him, don’t be scared

user: i just know he’s about to become the white boy of the month

↳ yourusername: he already is, babes 😉

↳ user: GIRL— WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??

user: my life depends on knowing who this is

user: yn, who is it?!?!???

user: his back is so hot omg

user: he must be hitting the gym often 👅

madisonbeer: gorggg 😍

user: anyone know who it is?

user: she’s soo pretty

user: who is this man?!

user: where are all the fbi girlies at when you need them??

↳ user: LITERALLY OMGG—

drewstarkey: 😏

↳ user: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!?!?

↳ user: they were supposed to be my endgame frrr 🥺

user: he seems hot

user: gorgeous girl! 😍

nicholasalexanderchavez

liked by drewstarkey, cooperkoch and 748,910 others

nicholasalexanderchavez: monthly recap

view 4,945 comments

user: SIR—

user: hitting me with a thirst trap already?!?? 👀

user: soooo he ain’t single? 😭

user: wait a min— why does his post correlate with yn’s?

user: one chance, please! just ONE fucken chance 🙏🏼

user: THE FIRST PIC HELLO? THE SHOE?!?

↳ user: i’m confused, what?!?

↳ user: look at yn’s recent post

↳ user: bItch OMG

user: damn, so he taken?!? 💔

user: BARK BARK

user: tag her, you coward 😏

user: sooo fine omg

user: he knows how fine he is, i swear

user: @yourusername is that you?!??

user: THE THIRD POST, HELLO?!!? 👅👅👅

user: got me feeling some type of way, i swear

user: wait, is that really yn?!?

↳ user: it’s what we’re all trying to figure out

cooperkoch: 🙂‍↕️

user: finest man everrrrrrr

user: nicholas this nicholas that— but what about COOPER??

↳ user: say it louder, bestie

↳ user: what did man do to deserve him?!? 😭

user: fuck 🫦 he’s HOT

user: my kind of man right here;)

user: LET ME BE ONE OF YOUR GIRLS, PLEASE

user: something’s purring 🫢

user: white boy of the month frfr

user: cooper’s a cutie in that fourth slide

user: drew liked!! could it be yn?!?

user: girl @yourusername this yo man??!? 👀

user: ALLLLL day AND ALLLLL NIGHT

user: oh my gawddddd 🫦

user: i can cook and clean, if you need someone

user: holyyyyyyy fuck 😍

user: third post is doing something to me 🤤

user: is he dating yn?!?!?

imessage

yourusername

liked by cooperkoch, drewstarkey and 801,035 others

yourusername: lover era 💋

view 5,036 comments

user: THE HARD LAUNCH WE HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

user: bestie?!?!???? omg?!?!? what?!?!?

↳ yourusername: cats out the bag, i guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

user: oMG

user: i feel so single wtf

user: the second and fourth photo 😭

user: we get it, girl, you won

user: HE SECURED THE BADDEST BITCH OMG 😩

madelyncline: ooou she a baddddie 🫦

user: body so tea the british are coming

nicholasalexanderchavez: you look so good, baby

nicholasalexanderchavez: the most beautiful girl ever

nicholasalexanderchavez: i’m so in love with you 😘

↳ yourusername: i love youuuu 💋

cooperkoch: mom & dad

↳ yourusername: we love you, son 🫶🏼

user: ADOPT ME, PleaSE

user: idk who’s luckier 😭 him or her

user: nOt the white boy of the month

user: YN, HIDE THE EDITS FROM HIM

↳ yourusername: he’s seen them all, bestie 🤣 oops

↳ user: OMGGG?!!?

user: bitch omg

user: nicholas this nicholas that … what aBoUt YN?!? 😍

user: motHER frr 🫦

user: bestie, you’re making me feel so single 🥺

user: obx meets monsters?? 😯

user: the baddest girl everrrr

user: my yndrew heart (they better get together in the show tho)

user: YNNICHOLAS IT IS 😍

user: she’s sooo fine omg

user: @drewstarkey

user: mother is mothering ya’ll 😩

user: THE sexiest couple of 2024

user: tHat’s my girl wtf 😭😭

user: HOT omg

user: MOM AND DAD OMG 😍

user: he’s soooo 🫦🫦🫦😍😍😩🙂‍↕️😘👅😭🥰😋😍

nicholasalexanderchavez

liked by cooperkoch, chloessevigny and 894,729 others

nicholasalexanderchavez: 🙂‍↕️

tagged: @yourusername

view 6,936 comments

user: YN, GIRL, tHE TEXT?!??

↳ user: she’s so real for that lmao

user: hELp— the message

user: we get it 😭 you’re taken

user: idk if i wanna be him or yn

user: ugh, he’s sooo fine omg 🫦

yourusername: we did in fact do those things;)

yourusername: #ineedthat 🫦

yourusername: SEXc 😍

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: you 😉

yourusername: let me show you how proud i am to be yours;)

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: heading upstairs right now

user: soo fucken fine oml

user: VEINS VEINS VEINS

user: i NEED him soo bad omgg 😩

↳ yourusername: same!

user: HOT 🥵

user: yn’s so lucky omg

user: i feel so single wtf

user: TILL THE NEIGHBORS KNOW HIS NAME

user: 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

user: @yourusername BABES, HE’S SOOO FINE 😭

user: this man is so fine 😍

user: it’s not a want, it’s a NEED

user: nicholas, let me just be one of your girls 🙏🏼

user: my body had a reaction to the third post

cooperkoch: was the text really necessary? 🤔

↳ user: 😂 cooper

user: thE THIRD POST

user: finest man ever, i swear

user: father of my kids (real) 😩

nicholasalexanderchavez and behindtheblinds

liked by yourusername, cooperkoch and 866,937 others

behindtheblinds: All eyes on him! Nicholas Alexander Chavez @nicholasalexanderchavez — the next cover star of our new HIGH ROMANCE FW 24 issue —

view 5,836 comments

yourusername: dear lord, when i go to heaven

yourusername: that’s my man, guys 🫦

↳ user: we get it, girl, we get it 😭

↳ user: okay— stop rubbing it on my face, please

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: all yours baby @yourusername

yourusername: #ineeditdeepinsideme

↳ user: YN?!!?? (you’re so real for this)

yourusername: soooo fine oml 😍

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: that’s you, my love 😘

user: of course yn is here in the comment being thirsty LMAO

user: YN’s COMMENt 😭

cooperkoch: slayyy

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: 🫶🏼

user: i’m not a waitress but i’ll take the tip

nicholasalexanderchavez: mwahh

user: WE NEED A COLLAB W CALVIN KLEIN

user: dream ride 😩

user: LORD HAVE MERCY

user: i knew i’d find yn here

user: i wanna thank beyonce for your existence

user: alright— who took my pants?

user: i need to know if he’s seen the edits

↳ user: yn confirmed that he does in fact know about the edits

user: yn, i’m so jealous of you 😭

yourusername: you look soooo good 😍

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: YOU look good;) you know you do

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: you better feel good

↳ yourusername: I LOVE YOUUUUU ❤️

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: I LOVE YOUUUU TOO ❤️

627 notes · View notes

100vern · 1 month ago

Text

the great british fake-off | xmh

you thought the guy in the hawaiian-print shirt who seems physically incapable of being quiet would be the most annoying person here, so imagine your shock when it's xu minghao, who has seemingly decided you're the enemy and keeps sabotaging you. a baking competition for charity might have others on their best behavior, but what's a little sugar without some spice?

❆ pairing: minghao x reader ❆ genre: great british bake-off, holiday au; crack, fluff ❆ wordcount: 5.5k ❆ rating: e for everyone ❆ warnings: some swearing, minghao is a saboteur, idiots abound. ❆ credits: this netflix psd template for the banner. this recipe for the yule log; this recipe for the gingerbread house; and this recipe for the entremet. divider from here. this post for the divider. this was roughly edited by me, so any and all mistakes are my own. ❆ written for: the winter with you collab hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories as they're posted. ♡ ❆ author's note: i had this rotting away in my wips since literally 2021, so even though it started as a completely different story, i'm so glad it's finally seeing the light of day even if it's not what i originally intended. (also, i know the banner says 12 contestants but the holiday specials only had a couple, okay. i forgot when i made it and i wasn't going back to fix it.)

The obnoxious one is wearing an aloha-print shirt.

He’s also extremely loud, his raucous, fake laughter filling every corner of the large warehouse you’ve been assigned to for filming. Makes a show of batting his eyelashes, throwing his head back every time someone cracks a joke that’s not even funny, comes up with nonsensical nicknames for the entire crew just to suck up to them.

“John Davies? Mind if I call you Joe?”

Joe doesn’t even make sense as a nickname for John, but John fucking loves it, apparently. Looks at the annoying guy like he just watched him string the stars in the sky.

But it’s the shirt—god, the shirt drives you absolutely crazy. He’s about to go on national television, be a household name, and some ill-fitting, charity shop Hawaiian print shirt is what he woke up and chose to wear. What’s his angle here? Appeal to the public with some sob story about only being able to afford second-hand clothes so that’s why he’s competing? Needs the money to care for a sick relative?

(The expensive watch on his wrist and his limited-drop sneakers tell an entirely different story, but you’re keeping that to yourself for now. No reason to play your hand so early.)

As much as you hate the shirt, you have to admit it suits him. The colors are garish and unsightly, just as obnoxious as he is, and you can’t stare at it too long because you start going cross-eyed. Looking at him feels about the same as stuffing your mouth with a bunch of sour candies: you get that same burn in the back of your jaw, same scrunched-up, grossed-out look on your face; have to squeeze your eyes shut to blink back tears.

You don’t even know his name, but you hate him immediately.

Your eyes scan the other contestants. None of them inspire the same level of animosity within you as the annoying one does; all of them nearly unremarkable. A variety of ages, appearances, backgrounds. You hear one say they’re a retired investment banker. There’s an accountant, a teacher, a fucking aerospace engineer.

And then it’s his turn to introduce himself. He clears his throat, speaks with an easy, practiced confidence. Completely void of nerves. Makes eye contact with everyone in your conversation circle. Gesticulates wildly as he speaks, immediately endears everyone to him.

“I’m Tim,” he says, and you nearly recoil at how honeyed his voice is. “But you can call me Tim. I’m thirty-eight, originally from a small town. Work as a…”

You can barely stand to listen to it anymore, each “Nice to meet you, Tim!” like another punch to the gut. How can’t these people see right through him? How are they falling for his bullshit? You should’ve known. Producers always throw in at least one bomb to up the ratings—a secret millionaire, someone rude and confrontational, a flat-earther. Even if you’re competing in a charity baking competition, of all things, it’s still reality television at the end of the day.

Just because the bunch of you are going to spend the next few days creating confections out of sugar, spice, and everything nice, doesn’t mean you have to be part of that ‘everything.’

Tim thinks he’s got this in the bag. Thinks he’s going to show up and win easily, the rest of you be damned, and even if you are typically a very nice person, you’re also highly competitive. There’ll be no rolling over done by you, and if Tim wants to play dirty—

Game on.

As you introduce yourself, you feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. Probably because you don’t bother with the faux-humility the rest of the contestants have. Polite and charming but firm, just the way your mother had taught you. You’re not boisterous, don’t crack silly jokes to play up to the cameras the way Tim loves to do, and you know he’s scrutinizing you the way you’d done to him, trying to figure out your angle.

Well, joke’s on him—you don’t need one.

And you really, really hope it drives him crazy.

Except maybe the joke is on you, too, because you don’t account for Xu Minghao.

In true reality television fashion, the tent is boiling hot.

As if the universe itself had looked down on all of you and decided what you all needed was a heatwave uncharacteristic of this time of year, just to up the ante. Not even ten minutes in the tent and you’re all fanning yourselves and wafting air up your shirts. Which is great, really, because it isn’t like you need to use ovens or stand over hot burners. It’s not like you aren’t going to be soaking through your clothes with anxiety sweats, either! Sweat dripping off your brow into your eyes won’t matter because you don’t need to use them.

Everything’s going to be fine!

But everything is not fine. Not only has the universe gifted you with sweltering heat, it’s given you the work station directly next to Tim’s. You’ll have to feel his annoying, off-putting aura near you for the entire competition. There’s always the possibility of him bungling it and making an early exit, but you know that’s unlikely. Obnoxious he may be, you also know a strong opponent when you see one, and something tells you you’re going to be stuck with him for the long haul.

Think of the cats, you tell yourself. All of this is for the cats.

It’s not like you never would’ve returned here of your own volition. No, your first go-round with feel-good, competition-based reality television had gone fine. You hadn’t won, of course, because you wouldn’t be here again if you had, but you placed respectably in the top three. Became a fan favorite, too, which was arguably more lucrative than winning. People make a living on social media these days.

So, it’s not the competition itself that has you white-knuckled gripping onto the edge of your station. It’s the man at the one beside you, cracking all these stupid jokes about the weather and how it’s a horrible day for tempering chocolate, so he bets that’s going to be the first challenge!

You suck in a deep breath. Try to remember the breathing exercises from that one yoga class your sister had dragged you to. It had been about the same temperature then, too—well duh, it’s hot yoga, your sister had said, which was news to you, because you never would’ve signed up for something called hot yoga willingly. Still, you endured it, just like you’ll endure this, and a little sweat is not going to get in the way of you delivering a check to all those poor, sad cats without families.

“Psst, hey,” you hear from behind you. When you turn, a man is smirking at you as he finishes tying his apron around his waist—has to wrap the strings around twice, you notice, because only someone hand-picked by the gods themselves would have that shoulder-to-waist ratio.

You don’t really recognize him. Can’t recall his name or where he’s from; can’t remember what he mentioned doing for a living. Probably something artsy, if you had to guess—he definitely has the style and demeanor of a creative, with his trendy shag-mullet and the multicolored, glitter-y snowflakes decorating his nails.

You aren’t sure he introduced himself at all, but the confidence with which he holds himself—easy, like it’d take a national emergency to rattle him even a little—implies he doesn’t really have to. Most of the people here already know him, if you had to guess, and he gives the impression that he’s not fussed with impressing any of them.

If only Tim was so inclined.

You clear your throat, vaguely aware you need to respond. “Yeah?”

“Are you nervous?”

“Ah, I don’t think so? We’ve done this before, after all. We should be seasoned veterans by now.”

He smirks. “Should be,” he emphasizes. “Feels different when it’s for charity. Extra serious, you know?”

“Right,” you agree, taking a look around the tent. “Anything for the cats.”

There’s an immediate shift in the atmosphere. What was friendly and carefree is now tense; where a smile and a floral giggle sat on the man’s lips has been replaced with a crooked scowl. And it doesn’t make sense, all you’d done was agree with what he said, but then the producers are yelling something at the front of the tent, cameramen are rushing to their equipment, and a woman appears at your side and starts clipping equipment to your clothes, and there’s no time to question it. On your right, Tim’s laughing and joking around with some crew members like they’re old drinking buddies. It drives you nuts, has annoyance pricking at your skin, flushing your cheeks—

So much so that the woman at your side leans in and asks, “Should I get hair and makeup over here?”

“I—no, it’s fine.”

The unnecessary members of the production team scatter away after a loud countdown. Hair and makeup don’t come to wipe the sweat tracks from your skin. You already know Man Behind You is standing there looking perfect because he’s equally as attractive as he is mysterious. God truly has favorites, and this guy somehow made the top five.

You stare down at the instructions in front of you, confident in your ability to read but not so confident in your ability to make sense of any of it. And it’s your own recipe, which is the worst part. You’d typed this recipe yourself. These are your hand-written notes in the margins. You’ve conceptualized, tweaked, baked, and eaten this recipe more times than you can count, and now all you can do is thousand-yard-stare into the ether.

In the time since you were on the show, you’d somehow forgotten about the chaos. Not unlike that hormone women have that makes them forget about the pain and agony of childbirth, you reckon.

In addition to being one of the most bothersome people in history, Tim apparently doubles as a prophet.

Because it is a terrible day to temper chocolate, and you’ve got a bûche de Noël on the horizon that requires you to do so. You can pivot, maybe make some kind of buttercream, but a basic chocolate buttercream is not going to win you a world-renowned baking competition even if it is Swiss meringue. A child could make that.

You sigh. Push that wave of panic to the back of your mind. In a setting like this, you have approximately ten seconds to come up with a back-up plan and execute it and you wasted your time thinking, so you’re just going to have to temper the stupid chocolate and stick to your original plan. God, you have a headache.

But the show must go on, so you do too.

Step 1: Preheat the oven.

Easy enough. If nothing else, you can preheat an oven.

Step 2: Make the sponge.

Not as easy, but you’ve made so many sponge cakes throughout your life you could probably do it in your sleep. Whisk attachment on the stand mixer. Four eggs. Sugar meticulously weighed and added to the bowl. Sugar and eggs whisked together until the mixture is the color and consistency you’re looking for. Flour, cocoa powder, and salt sifted in. Metal spoon to fold it all together as delicately as possible. You won’t have a sponge cake if you beat all the air out of it, now will you?

“Good enough,” you mutter to yourself, staring down at the bowl.

At least you’d had the foresight to grease and line your baking tray, because the entire entourage arrives at your station just as you’re meant to be pouring the batter into it and sticking it in the oven.

“Ah, we meet again,” the group choruses, genuine smiles peeking through as if you’re old friends separated only by time and distance.

That’s the weird thing about being on television. For as long as you’re able, you exist within a microcosm of daily life. A world exists outside of your bubble, you know, but you don’t see much proof of it. All of your meals are eaten together; all of your conversations are had with one another. You share temporary living quarters and oftentimes too much of yourselves, and you’re thankful the show encourages teamwork and kindness because that’s the kind of thing that can grow sour if you leave it unchecked too long.

And then it just—ends.

Bubble burst, you all go back to your regular lives. You look back on that time fondly, but the friendships are thinned out by time and distance. Eventually it all starts to feel like a dream, except every now and then something breaks through the haze to remind you it actually happened: a stranger recognizing you at the store, a message on social media, the casting team contacting you to ask if you’d be interested in competing in a holiday special for charity.

“We certainly do,” you retort, smile matching everyone else’s.

All things considered, you are happy to be back. Even if the tent is crowded and far too warm, the atmosphere is unmatched, especially when it’s decorated for the holidays.

“What are you working on?”

You explain the general workings of your yule log: chocolate sponge, hazelnut liqueur cream filling, and chocolate icing to top it off. You aren’t sure how you’re going to decorate it yet—you’ll figure it out once you get there, depending on how much time you have—but you guarantee them it’ll look festive and professional.

Satisfied with your plan, they wish you luck and move on to the man behind you. It’s so great to see you again, Minghao, someone says, and you’re grateful they’ve spared you the embarrassment of having to ask for his name. It still doesn’t ring a bell, and you can’t recall what season he’d been on for the life of you, but he speaks with a patience and a gentleness that is so unlike Tim that you nearly drop to the floor in thanks.

But as the commotion of the tent reminds you, you don’t have time to waste thinking about Minghao. You’ve only been given an hour for your signature, and you’re going to need all sixty of those minutes if you have any hopes of presenting a finished product.

It doesn’t register at first.

It doesn’t register at second or third, either.

In fact, you’re sure you’re hallucinating when you open the oven door to pop the sponge inside and you aren’t hit with a blast of hot air. Room temperature. Perhaps a bit on the cooler side, if you’re being honest.

And that can’t be, because you know you preheat your oven. It was the first thing you did, because it’s always the first thing you do. It’s just… automatic, like opening your mouth to eat or washing between your toes in the shower. Instinctual. Not something that needs to even be considered, because it’s always the first thing you do.

No, this cannot be. Forgetting to preheat the oven is a rookie mistake and you’re not a rookie.

…Could it be?

Perhaps you were so caught up in the lights and buzz, the thrill of returning to the tent, that it had slipped your mind? Perhaps you’d pressed the wrong buttons and turned the wrong dials? While it’s not likely you’d somehow bumped into the oven and turned it off, nothing is impossible, so… maybe?

“Shit,” you hiss through your teeth. The producers are not going to be happy about your swearing. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Everything okay up there?” Minghao asks from behind you. When you turn, he’s got a flour-dusted towel thrown over his shoulder as he nurses a cup of tea, and his composure in the face of your hysteria has your head spinning.

Your mouth opens and closes like a goldfish. Minghao is drinking tea without a care in the world and your oven isn’t even halfway to the temperature you need. “I—yes? No? I don’t know. I could’ve sworn I preheated the oven, but—”

“Don’t panic,” he offers, his top lip catching on the rim of his mug. “You got this. Work on something else while you wait.”

Something else. Right, you can work on something else. Both the filling and the frosting still have to be made, and quick mental math tells you there should just be enough time to get everything done if you’re efficient. Of course, that’s a big if, but that’s why you’d chosen a yule log, after all: sponge cake doesn’t need that long to bake, and anything can happen (and go wrong) in this tent.

So, you get to work on something else. Measure out a sheet of parchment paper, dust it with cocoa powder, and set it to the side. Decide to get to work on the frosting, because if one thing has already gone wrong, you don’t trust the universe to let you temper chocolate correctly.

The chocolate is halfway melted when the oven dings. A small harrumph of victory and you’re finally good to go, setting a timer for twelve minutes. Minghao offers you a discreet thumbs-up, fingers covered in something sticky you assume is marzipan.

Time flies after that. You get both the frosting and your filling made, and it’s only through divine intervention that your sponge cake comes out perfectly and with enough time to score and cool. When you dare a look around the room, everyone seems to be in a similar position as you: frazzled and covered in powdered sugar, making frantic trips to and from the refrigerators, chucking seized-up caramel into the trash and starting over for the third time with a pained expression.

A holiday special—it was supposed to be more laid-back, more for the vibes and festivity than actual competition, but it looks to you like everyone’s taking it just as seriously as your first go-rounds.

“Fifteen minutes!” someone calls, and your competitors fade out of focus. You’ve got a yule log to ice and fondant to roll out.

You make it by the skin of your teeth.

It isn’t perfect, of course, as few things on this show ever are, but it’s more than acceptable. It looks great and tastes even better which is all you can hope for. Much to your dismay, Tim also gets top marks, but it’s Minghao that shocks you all. His stollen wreath earns him a handshake and a lot of clandestine, private glares, but he’d been kind to you earlier, helped untangle that knot of pandemonium, so you return the thumbs-up he’d given you earlier with a smile that feels akin to getting away with murder.

Something is wrong.

On its own, this is not necessarily surprising. Gingerbread, tasked with bearing the weight of an entire house, can be fickle. On any other day you wouldn’t blame it if it wanted to rebel and go sideways, but the thing is—you’ve made gingerbread before. Tons of times. Another thing you could probably make in your sleep if you absolutely had to. So it doesn’t make sense when you look down in your mixing bowl and it just… doesn’t look right.

You tell yourself it’ll get better when you knead it. Maybe the color just looks off because it’s underworked, and a few good punches will set it straight.

But it doesn’t. The dough sits at your station like a sad, formless lump, giving you no indication it intends to become anything at all. Which is, admittedly, a problem. Your technical challenge is to build a gingerbread house—one complete with little windows and golden-toned nightlights, a scalloped roof dusted with powdered sugar to look like fresh snow, a working door!—and you’re far from an engineer, but you don’t think you can have a gingerbread house without gingerbread.

You sneak a peek at Tim’s station, where he’s well into measuring an immaculate-looking dough with a ruler. The contestant in front of you is in a similar place, too, so it’s with an oh fuck I’m doomed sigh that you turn around and hope to find a comrade in Minghao again.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying not to draw attention to yourself. “Does this look right to you?” You jerk a thumb in the direction of your dough-lump. Minghao, bless him, looks around you and tries his best to hide his grimace.

He does not succeed.

“Um. Well, no.”

You sigh. Place one flour-dusted hand on your waist and pinch the bridge of your nose with the other. “I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. I’ve made gingerbread a million times.”

“Looks pale,” he offers. Of course, this is the exact moment he dumps his own dough—his beautiful dough, flawless chestnut brown—onto his station to knead it. “Was the sugar right?”

A strangled, disbelieving laugh escapes you. Was the sugar right—of course the sugar was right! Dark muscovado sugar. Everyone knows that's what you use for gingerbread, so of course the sugar was right because no one, both in their right mind and at this stage of competition, would use anything else.

Before you can respond, Minghao’s pointing at your jar of sugar. Your jar of pale, producer-supplied sugar, which even a blind person could tell does not resemble dark muscovado sugar.

A million thoughts race through your head at once, but it boils down to instinct, you think. Your brain had seen flour, butter, and sugar and went into baking mode, not stopping to take in the color of anything. Maybe a smarter, more perceptive person would put two and two together and get sabotage, but you don’t have enough time to play detective.

“Here, here,” Minghao says, hurriedly handing over his (correct) sugar. “It’ll be close, but you should have just enough time to redo the dough.”

You’re going to throw up.

In the end, a chunk of chocolate buttons is missing from the roof and the piping around the edges is far from your neatest work, but it’s passable. You already lamented your loss during the signature bake, because anything less than perfection was not going to win you much of anything, and you’re now 0-for-2 on showstopping, unbelievable, awe-inspiring confections.

Just like the devil, your fall from grace will be studied.

Overthinking isn’t going to get you anywhere, but you can’t help it.

You collapse sideways into a chair, immediately face-planting into the catering table. Everyone else buzzes around you—animated conversations that have your head spinning, words that jumble together and start to sound like nothing at all—but you’re a million miles away. One mistake is out of character for you, but two? It’s unheard of. Something you would’ve said was impossible if it didn’t happen to you just a few hours ago.

This is something you need to file away for later so you can think about it just as you’re about to fall asleep, horror and embarrassment there to keep you company when it keeps you awake until the wee hours of the morning.

A chill runs down your spine.

“Hi. Do you mind?” You startle. Bang your knee on the underside of the table. “Sorry,” Minghao apologizes, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. You shake your head. Gesture to the empty seat across from you as if to say it’s all yours. “I brought you some tea,” he continues, setting it in front of you. “I find it’s easier than coffee when you don’t know how someone takes theirs. Less chance of getting it wrong.”

You smile. Wrap your hands around the Styrofoam cup and delight in the warmth. “Thank you. This was very kind of you.”

“Seemed like you had a rough day.”

Groaning, you try to wave away his words. “Please don’t speak of it.” Minghao jokingly salutes you before miming his lips sealed. “Anyway. Let’s talk about something that is not reality television or baking or a reality baking competition.”

So, you do. Most of the talking comes from you, to be fair, but Minghao is a good listener: nods along, chimes in when appropriate, keeps the spit in his mouth where it belongs. You talk about your hometown and what made you apply for the show the first time. He tells you about growing up in Haicheng and all the things he grew up baking with his mother. You swap stories from your respective seasons; Minghao shares anecdotes with a straight face that have you clutching at your stomach.

Hours pass this way, and you end the night feeling like you’ve made an honest-to-god friend.

Xu Minghao ends the night feeling the guilt weigh him down like an albatross.

In retrospect, it is probably a bad idea to make another sponge, but no one can accuse you of learning from your mistakes.

“It’ll be a patterned joconde sponge with two mousse layers—chocolate and raspberry—and a raspberry jelly. Then I’m going to attempt to top it with chocolate and raspberry decorations.” The judges blink. Are you sure that’s a good idea? you know they want to ask, but this is a holiday competition for charity, so they’re trying not to be pessimists. “Anything is possible through holiday cheer,” you tack on, hoping your smile doesn’t look crazed.

They nod. “Right, right,” they say in unison. “Well, good luck!”

And then they’re off.

Determined to nail this, you triple-check your oven, which is preheating to a crisp 400 degrees; you double-check all your ingredients and confirm they’re correct; when you can spare the time, you watch your refrigerator like a hawk, making sure no one tries to sneak their own work in there and displace yours when you aren’t looking, but everyone’s engrossed in their respective showstoppers.

Tim’s planning a shadow box of sorts, with blown-sugar baubles and isomalt fire. Someone else is stressing over their three-tiered cake, asking the presenter if they think they’ve taken on too much. From what you can piece together, Minghao is making a three-dimensional house, also made from cake that he imported special pistachios for.

“Special pistachios?”

“Mm, from Iran. They have a better color.”

“Iranian pistachios! Can you believe it!”

But you don’t have time to worry about Minghao and his special Iranian pistachios. You have so much to do and not enough time to complete it. Your paste is in the freezer and the sponge is in the oven, but you’ve still got two mousses to make, a jelly to infuse, and little chocolate trees to create—and all of this wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t pointless, but you don’t want to disappoint the cats by half-assing it. They deserve your whole ass, and your whole ass is what they’re going to get.

The result is stunning—not necessarily in stature, but rather craftsmanship and effort. This is what you’re capable of. This is why you came back to the tent. For all your complaining and wanting to put your head through a concrete wall, there’s nothing like seeing the judges ooh and ahh when you present your work to them. There’s nothing like the ego boost of someone taking a bite and watching their eyes light up. There’s nothing like carrying your cake back to your station feeling proud of yourself.

“Great job,” Minghao says, a genuine smile stretched across his face. He also exceeds expectations, of course. Must be those special pistachios, you think, but your congratulations are also sincere.

Production makes a spectacle of judging, much like they always do.

The set is decorated to look like a winter wonderland, even though you’re still in the midst of autumn: a giant Christmas tree in the center decked to the nines with garland and baubles; warm, golden bulbs strung from every awning they could find; all the participants bundled up tight in festive sweaters and scarves all the way to your chins, cheeks and tips of noses dusted with red-pink blush to mimic the cold that’s nowhere to be found. Fake snow falls from the sky, and it doesn’t feel real, but it does feel magical.

One of the hosts catches you by the elbow, asks who you think is going to win. “Oh, I’d have to say Minghao,” you answer, because you’d rather die than give Tim the satisfaction. “His showstopper was incredible, but he was really great the whole competition.”

In the end, however, neither of them wins—it’s Jeon Wonwoo, three-tiered cake guy, who comes out of nowhere to claim first place. He’s bashful as he accepts his prize and says he’s going to donate the prize money to an organization that provides underprivileged kids with video game equipment. No one has a whole lot to say about that.

Once most of the hubbub dies down (and you give Tim a half-assed you did great, so sorry you didn’t win), you find Minghao near the refreshments table. He’s frowning around another mug of tea. “Alright?” you ask, helping yourself to some cider.

“For some reason, I’m no longer feeling very festive,” he replies, which is a very funny thing to say while wearing a hat with a little pom-pom on the top.

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. Sidle in a little closer and knock his shoulder with your own. “Ah, I know how you feel, but you really did do great. You were my pick to win, for what it’s worth.”

“Please don’t tell me that. It only makes me feel worse for losing.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Would’ve been nice to donate some money to the cats, but shit, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn some dark force was sabotaging me. Like, come on—forgetting to preheat the oven? Using the wrong sugar? Not even a kid would’ve made those mistakes.”

Two things happen in rapid succession: beside you, Minghao goes very, very stiff, and you realize you had been sabotaged. And not by some dark, evil force, either. You were sabotaged by the very man standing beside you—the man you shared thumbs-up with and thought was your friend. The man whose cake you complimented and picked to win. The man who is now standing ramrod straight, as tense as a corpse, and the thought of sabotaging someone in a charity baking competition is so ridiculous and unbelievable that you just—

You just laugh.

At first, it’s a bark of stunned laughter. Then, the more it sinks in how absurd, how nonsensical all of this is, you can’t stop. Tears are rolling down your cheeks. You gasp for breath as your stomach begins to ache. People are staring, including Minghao, who sort of can’t believe what he’s seeing, but none of it does anything to deter you.

“Oh my god,” you wheeze, “I can’t believe it was you—”

Minghao groans. “In my defense, it was for the cats!”

This was not the answer you were expecting. It makes you laugh harder. “What do you mean it was for the cats?”

He swallows. Removes the mitten from one hand to run it through his hair as if that one tic was enough to distract you from everything that’s happened in the last sixty seconds. (It is.) “Listen, you told me you were going to donate the money to a cat charity if you won and I just—so was I, was the thing. I was also going to donate the money to a cat charity if I won—”

“Okay, but which one, though?”

“The Cat’s Paw-jamas.” Much to Minghao’s horror, this sets you off again. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Minghao,” you try to choke out, but you can barely breathe around the cramp in your stomach. “Minghao, that’s the charity I was going to donate to. Oh my god, you sabotaged me and I was going to donate to—to the same fucking place. Jesus Christ, this is some Gift of the Magi shit.”

Your saboteur, who has gone deathly pale, is quiet for a very long time. Every now and then he’ll open his mouth like he’s going to say something before it snaps shut again. When he does manage to speak, what comes out are mangled apologies that sound like gibberish, and you wave all of them away. “It’s water under the bridge.”

“I—I really don’t think it should be?”

“Minghao, it’s fine, trust me, this was just for fun—”

“No, I really insist.”

You sigh, good-natured and exasperated. Something about the fake snow has you feeling romantic and a little bold, so you turn, grab him by the lapels of his coat. “Please tell me if I’m misreading this, but if you insist, maybe you can start by taking me to dinner…?”

This was clearly not what MInghao was expecting you to say. Dazed, he recovers quickly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a half-smirk. “Dinner, hm?” You nod. “I think I can manage that.”

You smile. “Great. How do you feel about cat cafes?”

#winterwithyoucollab #minghao x reader #seventeen x reader #minghao fluff #seventeen imagines #minghao imagines #seventeen fluff

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nicromancytarot · 1 year ago

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WHAT WILL YOUR FOREVER HOME BE LIKE??

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what you’re forever homes and houses will be like. Pick a pile that resonates with you to find out what they had to say.

Pile 1 ———> pile 2

Pile 3 ———> Pile 4

PILE 1

HOME: I see you moving in with your spouse, but I do unfortunately notice one of you cheating on the other. There’s a sense of disloyalty with the 3 of swords, the devil and the 10 of swords. If it’s you who has cheated, you may end up moving back in with family or possibly moving in with your new partners family. However, if it’s your spouse that has cheated, I see that they will move out of your shared house (lowkey one of those American dream type houses by the way!) and moving in with their family while leaving you with the house.

I do see this house being very nice with the magician and chariot, but I also notice a possibility of it being a family home so your children may be children of a divorce.

HOUSE: The house itself seems to be in an isolated area, perhaps in the country side or even up in the hills or mountains, you are my pile that gives me the vibe of you having to travel far to do your shopping or wait extra long for deliveries to arrive. It looks to be a very expensive build, or you may decorate the interior to make it look luxurious. There is definitely a possibility that you and your spouse previously joined pockets to help build or renovate it (it does seem like a knew build.) I also see that this is the house you have wanted for a long time and may have even manifested or prayed for.

PILE 2

HOME: I honestly feel as though you might buy this house just to rent it out to other people. I do see a lot of money coming from this investment, you have both the empress and emperor so I do see this bringing you a ton of wealth in the future. I do however notice that a perspective will shift and you will have the desire to live in this house. You will begin to live in it and perhaps even create a family to share it with further down the line.

HOUSE: The house itself seems to be placed somewhere very hot and possibly humid, it could also be a new build. It looks like something you’ve manifested in the past, and I feel you will continuously add more adaptations to it as you rent it out to others and even after you move into it, it does seem very luxurious and expensive.

(I see a yellow house on the edge of a cliff when I think about this, it seems very bright and colourful and just a happy place to be, the inside is decorated with a lot of floral things, like bright coloured floral lights and a blue couch, this place looks so nice hello, please let me stay.)

PILE 3

HOME: Very confusingly I see a home that is of very expensive origin and in an expensive area but your security seems to be lacking. Living here there’s a sense of uncertainty and being here will for sure make you stronger than you were before. It could even be in an uneasy area but I’m not too sure (I see an expensive gated community but there’s a lot of people standing outside, and a lot of cars are parked by the gates.) I don’t know if you guys are my famous pile but it could be that this is fans, haters or paparazzi if you are, if not it seems that your expensive taste has warranted lurkers.

HOUSE: Ok firstly, please get some security, you have free will, time to use it to camera this bitch up! This seems to be a house that people would walk by, see the lack of security and think “this seems the perfect place to rob from.” I also weirdly enough notice a potential of it being or becoming haunted? LMAOO. It seems pretty isolated though so you could totally throw some ragers.

PILE 4

HOME: Firstly, I notice a theme of possibly having lived or currently living paycheck to paycheck, I see this first place being shared with another person or multiple people. Luckily, there’s a time when this union will come to an end and you will either be able to move out or work towards gaining the resources to move out. (This could honestly be a very toxic childhood home, you may even be buying plates and cutlery and stuff years before moving out just because of how eager you are, but that’s a very specific message.)

Once you move out or begin getting ready to move out, I see you meeting someone (I think it’s your future spouse.) They may be significantly older than you, but boy do they make money. I think you will move in with them very early into the relationship.

HOUSE: Good news is the house is very nice and it seems like a dream place for you to be, the only downside is that you do have both the 5 and 7 of swords so they may be some selfishness perhaps with the decorating? I notice you may erase your persons personality (or even their kids if they have any, if they do I see two young girls) and I am here to tell you not to do that. You have free will, make sure to be fair.

#pick a card #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #tarot #tarot reading #astrology #house

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drdemonprince · 10 months ago

Note

don’t know if this is relevant to your ask box, but I thought you might find it interesting.

I’m a 20 yr old trans man who’s just started an ongoing thing with a new Dom, who is over twice my age. I’m currently finishing up my second year at uni, and he’s, you guessed it, also the, uh…. academic sort.

He’s a busy guy so obviously we can only meet up every once and a while, but we text almost every day. From the beginning he was always curious about my school endeavours, but recently it’s become more of a thing.

He won’t let us meet until certain assignments are done. He’s flexible and understanding, like any good dom, but holy shit this man had me at a cafe for ten hours on 40mg of vyvanse writing my final essay like my life depended on it. I didn’t even know who I was, motivated by the pure need to please and, quite frankly, desperate desire to be absolutely taken and used. This man has “cured” my ADHD (not really, but damn well is he fucking helping it).

I think the point I’m getting at here it that I can’t believe it took the motivation of my D/s relationship to get me to get shit done. Like, I’m done DAYS before the deadline for things I usually would have left last minute. I’ve been honest with my struggles with motivation and difficulties taking care of myself, and he is genuinely invested in my well-being so I know it all comes from a place of care and respect.

At the moment I’m working on my final short film for a class, and he told me to make a list of all the foley sounds I thought would help drive the narrative (he knows I love making lists, it’s also the autism), and as probably one of the best rewards for my good behaviour, he shared with me a collection of audio files (he dabbles in audio mixing) that were relevant to the list I shared. Can you believe this??!!

All these studentxprof fics are getting it wrong. Sometimes nothing comes between a teacher’s genuinely investment in student learning (if they enjoy what they do, like he does) and that is absolutely true in this case. Absolutely unbelievable this is my life right now. Would love to hear your thoughts on this!

This sounds so fucking sweet and HOT anon! I'm so glad you're having an exciting time with an older dom who cares about you and helps you meet your goals! And the phrasing of this guy making you write for hours on vyvanse is especially titilating...making it sound like an intox scene omg drool

ADHDers are generally very socially motivated, which is not rare for human beings at all. It makes sense that having the external structure that an outside observe can provide and the sense that your actions actually matter to other people and that people care about you would help facilitate you focusing on shit and getting organized! Not to mention how much fuckin easier it is to perform any kind of household task or bit of drudgery once it becomes sexual service. Shit gives boring regular life a charge of excitement, and the abdication of power gives you the discipline to actually follow through, because you're not the only one on the hook for everything and that's less scary!

I have nothing much more to say other than this rules and I hope you keep having a fun time!

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gardenschedule · 10 months ago

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Perceptions of Paul as calculating & John's paranoia

“McCartney’s mistake, which he now admits, was to seem invulnerable. […] And yet, he says, the contrast between himself and Lennon, so assiduously cultivated by journalists, was a fabrication. “I wasn’t brilliant at school. I was trouble, just like John. I got caned practically every day, and the only exam I ever passed was Spanish. John and I weren’t black and white, although people took John, for all his aggression, to be the good guy, because he showed his warts. I’ve only just realized, after all this time, that people like to see warts. It makes them sympathetic. I’d always though that, in order to be liked, you had to be unwarty.””

Living with The Beatles’ legacy, the smears that Lennon left behind… and the battle to win my babies back, The Times Newspaper, Monday January 4, 1982.

Paul was the easiest to talk to. He had such energy and such keenness and, unlike John, enjoyed being liked, at least most of the time. I don't see this as a criticism; John himself could be very cruel about Paul's puppy dog eagerness to please. The irony was, and still is, that John's awfulness to people, his rudeness and cruelty, made people like him more, whereas Paul's genuine niceness made many people suspicious, accusing him of being calculating. Paul does look ahead, seeing what might happen, working out the effect of certain actions, but he often ends up tying himself in knots, not necessarily getting what he thought he wanted. I think there is some insecurity in Paul's nature, which makes him try so hard, work so hard. It also means he can be easily hurt by criticism, which was something that just washed over John.

Hunter Davies, Western Mail: The Beatles. (April 9th, 2004)

Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’

Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)

“He always suspected me. He accused me of scheming to buy over Northern Songs without telling him. I was thinking of something to invest in, and Peter Brown said what about Northern Songs, invest in yourself, so I bought a few shares, about 1,000 I think. John went mad, suspecting some plot. Then he bought some himself. He was always thinking I was cunning and devious. That’s my reputation, someone who’s charming, but a clever lad. “It happened the other day at Ringo’s wedding. I was saying to Cilia [Black] that I liked Bobby [her husband]. That’s all I said. Bobby’s a nice bloke. Ah, but what do you REALLY think Paul? You don’t mean that, do you, you’re getting at something? I was being absolutely straight. But she couldn’t believe it. No one ever does. They think I’m calculating all the time.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

In the wake of his death you didn’t tour for most of the ‘80s. People suggested that you were scared to go on the road. Was that true? No. People speculate about anything. They always credit me with motives I haven’t even dreamed of. It’s interesting, the way they sort of perceive my life and analyse it for me. In that case, I never thought about touring much. People used to say, “Oh, it’s 10 years since you’ve toured.” I’d go, “Is it? Y’know, I’m not counting.” That’s all that was, really. I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t fancy it.

The Q Interview, 2007

Astrid in Germany was always a bit suspicious of Paul at first, though his relationship with Stu was also bound up in this. 'It used to frighten me that someone could be so nice all the time. Which is silly. It's ridiculous to feel at home with nasty people, just because you feel that at least you know where you are with them. It's silly to be wary of nice people.'

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul is the easiest to get to know for an outsider, but in the end he is the hardest to get to know. There is a feeling that he is holding things back, that he is one jump ahead, aware of the impression he is giving. He is self-conscious, which the others are not. John doesn't care, either way, what people think. Ringo is too adult to think about such things, and George in many ways isn't conscious. He is above it all.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul today is still the public Beatle, giving interviews at fairly regular intervals, being open and honest about himself and his past, his worries and his pleasures. Naturally, as ever, there are people who suspect his motives, putting him down for being too charming. Paul may be a bit of an actor, acting the part of Paul McCartney, the charming superstar, still loved by every mum, which can make him sound rather prissy at times, but I believe he does tell the truth about himself.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.

Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’

The funny thing is, when Apple [started], everything was laid out on the table, it’s like a Monopoly game. We saw who had what. I suddenly had more Northern Song shares than anybody, and it was like, oops, sorry. John was like, “You bastard, you’ve been buying behind my back.” John saw everything like a Harold Robbins movie, you know, which it was. He’s not incorrect. I couldn’t get over the fact that we were really involved in all this. I think to this day, he’ll not understand. I don’t think he would accept right now, my naïveté in it. I think he still suspects me of trying to take over Apple. He still suspects that when I offered the Eastmans as [managers] instead of Allen Klein, he naturally assumed that I would be taken care of better than the others, and that the Eastmans could never be moral enough to be equal in their judgment and do the Beatles’ thing rather than Paul’s thing. I think they still suspect to this day.

The point I was trying to illustrate is that it wasn’t so much John being a bastard as it was his being suspicious towards me, always being suspicious towards me. There was Northern Song shares. And I swear on any holy book you want, I know he won’t believe it, but I know for sure that I didn’t buy them with the view to— If I was really trying to do it, I could have bought an awful lot more. So it does hurt a little bit that there’s someone who still thinks, like, I’m out to get them, or that I always was. That’s one of the nice things about it— It’s a pity [I never said to John, “Fuck off, I’m not trying to do it”—and never was]. But he knows I was kind of— We were behind the scenes, and we did a few little [things] that we had to do, and our ambitions, and it was never a kind of terrifying skeletons in the closet. It was always just normal—but, uh, they …

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

SG: Were the other Beatles anti-Linda? PMcC: Uh, yeah. I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko. But you know John and Yoko, you can see it now, the way to get their friendship is to do everything the way they require it. To do anything else is how to not get their friendship. This is still how it is with John and Yoko. I know that if I absolutely lie down on the ground and just do everything like they say and laugh at all their jokes and don’t expect my jokes to ever get laughed at, and don’t expect any of my opinions ever to carry any weight whatsoever, if I’m willing to do all that, then we can be friends. But if I have an opinion that differs from theirs, then I’m a sort of an enemy. And naturally, paint myself a villain with a big mustache on, because to the ends of the earth, that’s how they both see me. They’re very suspicious people [John and Yoko], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

I was never out to screw him, never. He could be a maneuvering swine, which no one ever realized. Now since the death he’s became Martin Luther Lennon. But that really wasn’t him either. He wasn’t some sort of holy saint. He was still really a debunker. “For ten years together he took my songs apart. He was paranoiac about my songs. We have great screaming sessions about them.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

SALEWICZ: Oh, he was presumably very paranoid. PAUL: I think so. I mean, he warned me off Yoko once. You know, “Look, this is my chick!” ’Cause he knew my reputation. I mean, we knew each other rather well. And um, I felt… I just said, “Yeah, no problem.” But I did sort of feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t, but. You know, he was going through “I’m just a jealous guy”. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs. Heavy.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

Miles says, “I think Jane was always a bit irritated by John. Because he was so acerbic and difficult to get on with. And paranoid. He didn’t make life easy. I suppose it’s a sort of rapier wit, but it was usually just plain ordinary rudeness. There was nothing special about it.”

Paul McCartney profile for FAME Magazine (March 1990)

“They [Lennon & McCartney] saw each other again in 1977. The Lennons and McCartneys ate dinner together at Le Cirque, Paul’s favourite French restaurant in New York. John regretted going; it was a loathsome night. Paul and Linda blathered on and on about how perfect their lives were, how they had everything they’d ever wanted, and how they were as happy as they’d ever been. Something very paranoid suddenly occurred to John. Maybe Lorraine Boyle was spying on him for the McCartneys! He woke up the next morning still feeling disturbed; he consulted the Oracle. Swan assured him that Paul and Linda were frustrated and unsatisfied. Their marriage was in trouble, he said, predicting it would break up within the year. Lately Swan’s visions had been astonishingly accurate. Relieved, John began composing a song—a little ditty, really, that would never be released—in praise of the Oracle’s powers. But he still couldn’t understand why Paul and Linda had been together for as long as they had. There appeared to be a psychic connection between John and Paul. Every time McCartney was in town, John would hear Paul’s music in his head.”

Robert Rosen, Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, (2000)

JOHN: […..] And he’s (Jagger) goin’ on about “he never calls. Do you think he ever calls? He never calls me. And he keeps changing his phone number all the time… And he’s hiding behind the kid.” I was hurt by it! You know… The fact that… A, I never call anybody. It’s not pride, it’s just that I never, ever have. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: I never call the other Beatles, I never call anybody. They always call me. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: Cos I’m self-involved! I’m paranoid, too. I don’t like phones… There’s nobody on this earth ever got a call from me that isn’t related, probably. Or a very old friend…

Sept 1980 – John

“Yoko was an extremist and was even more intense than John taking any idea or comment of his to the limit. If, for example, he complained about any of his fellow Beatles she would hint that that Beatle had always been an enemy implying that John should never deal with that person again. Her extreme positions fascinated John and help him take his mind off himself but when she became self-involved and paranoid herself -her paranoia usually dealt with her career, her fame and the fact that even though she had always been famous everyone conspired to keep her from getting even more famous- he had no place to turn. His insecurity about his solo career, his childhood, his relationships with the other Beatles, the way the public perceived Yoko overwhelmed him and he became more and more involved with drugs.”

May Pang, Loving John (1984)

John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Some three year later, during the making of Abbey Road, Lennon installed a twin bed in the studio so that Yoko, recuperating from a car crash, could survey proceedings and pass comment though a mike he had suspended over her. The other Beatles positioned themselves around the room as best they could. Yoko would later tell Paul that if, for any reason, he’d seemed to be standing too close to her, all hell would break loose when John got her home. Lennon, she said, was ‘very paranoid’ like that.

McCartney by Chris Sandford

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chris Salewicz for Musician: Tug of war – Paul McCartney wants to lay his demons to rest. (October, 1986)

I just read about this thing that’s going on sale at Sotheby’s – this Apple booklet with John’s comments in the margins in his own handwriting. It is so bitter. Like, there’s a picture of Paul and Linda’s wedding – and John’s crossed out “wedding” and written in “funeral.” I think it starts to tell there. Another caption says, “Paul goes to Hollywood” – and then he’s apparently written in the margin, “To cut Yoko and John out of the film.” He often thought that we were tryin’ to cut Yoko out of things, to cut her out of Let It Be. I suppose we were, in some degree; because she wasn’t in the Beatles, and it was a Beatles film, and it wasn’t absolutely necessary to have long footage of her in there. She certainly was in there, but obviously they felt she should be in there a little more. I bent over backward trying to see John’s point of view. I still bend over backward trying to not malign him.”

Paul McCartney, Rolling Stone, September 11th, 1986

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #i wonder how much of their issues were due to john suspecting paul of things that just weren't true #then again maybe paul is secretly an evil mastermind #can't put it past him

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l1llina · 10 months ago

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"Huh, me? Like him ?"

Alhaitham x Fem!Reader

18+, Minors dni

Synopsis: The Akademiya is pushing a big project to fight the Abyss Order. You along with the other students are assigned to work on it. This project will bring you and Alhaitham closer.

It’s another day, another day of zoning out. What annoyed you even more was this really stuck up guy in your class. He always seemed to look down on everyone else, including you, and you’re a sensitive bitch so this bothered you a lot.

One day, the school reveals that every student will play a part in building a machine to fight the Abyss Order specifically the Abyss Prince. The pressure and excitement in everyone was of course very high almost overbearing. You couldn’t believe it. This was... amazing. Big ambitious projects with the whole help of the school. The school officially recruited everyone and everyone became an employee for the Akademiya.

Unfortunately, the way they assigned divisions were by class, this was all planned by the day you enrolled. The leader of your division who could order you to do anything he wishes was.. Alhaitham urgh. This went from being your dream to a nightmare.

He actually didn’t put many rules but the goal for that semester was to finish an elemental laser gun. Surprisingly every person in the class had a different role. You received the Casanova role but why did they need one ? At first, you pondered maybe they just didn’t want to hurt your feelings but then you guessed it was because they still lacked sufficient funding for such a project so you were the leader of your own little crew. The marketing crew!

Your job was to convince people to invest in such a project, and honestly who better for the job hah. Additionally the school encouraged the students to actually date and find love within other similar types. You were kind of manipulated into dating the heads of the project. Since production would go up if a Casanova and Leader got along well.

You were “advised accordingly” to go on a date with Alhaitham, your enemy. You didn’t have any romantic/sexual feelings for him before the date but during the date, he seemed a little obsessed, a little too happy to be here.

The Akademiya issued Friday to be a day to deepen relationships between the students. Admittedly they cared more if you had sex. They didn’t give the opportunity to buy condoms, since they hoped the students could bear kids to continue the project if the parents died.

Alhaitham urged you to take a sip of wine, you did out of politeness and out of curiosity to see what he’d do. You didn’t want your gut feeling to be right, to think he’d do something terrible, however when you came to, you were in white lingerie in Alhaitham’s dorm.

“Hey.. Y/N, I’m sure you know why I abused my position of power to get you here. You teased me on purpose huh, wearing that short pencil skirt. I don’t like helping the school with their corrupt ways but I can’t help but want to keep you to myself so let’s bear a child and we’ll rule the school”

He began teasing you, bouncing you on his thigh, you muffled your moans, refusing to yield to this asshole’s demands, but slowly, after being edged for so long, you started losing your rationale and following his demands. He worshipped the body that would give him an heir and the woman who clouded his mind for years.

“I saw how you looked at me in class, such hatred and disgust, there’s nothing more satisfying than triumphing over my enemies but in this case, you’re my doll now and don’t worry doll I’ll make sure to treat you right and please you accordingly”

You thought he’d stop at grinding you on his laps but he got down on his knees and started stuffing your tiny hole and circling your clit with his tongue. Urgh the only thing that’s stopping you from giving yourself to him fully is your pride. If you gave in, he’d win and there’d be no guarantee you’ll find real love with him.

“Why are you still holding back, do you think I’ll hit you ? Insult you ? Never, not to the girl I’ve respected for so long”

“W-What, re-respect hngh..?”

“Yeah, you’re a little stupid but you always kept your promises and showed your hatred for hypocrisy and oppression of the system. You’re exactly my type, I love your character and I hope even after this little stunt, you can find a place in your heart to love me too”

“Al.. I didn’t wanna give in because I don’t like losing.. These past few years, I always thought you were an asshole, even now you’re proving my point but right now I couldn’t care less, you being an asshole also ties with your ambition and I couldn’t find anything more attractive than that, well devotion too but you’re that too so. More so, you’re fucking hot.. Are you kidding me ?”

“So, we’re a thing then ?”

“Yeah.. now fuck me with your cock already, just so you know though I don’t really like kids but I still wanna have sex with you right now”

He plunges his cock and makes you cum many times that night. The next day your dorm changed to Al Haitham’s and you shared a dorm now. Outside of school hours and even during, you would be in his office, dating and fucking him”

At night, you found a new nerd pal to geek out with but he sometimes takes it too far and it ends up in passionate makeout sessions. The next morning, the cycle continues

TBC <3 Pls don't hate me

#al haitham x reader #smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #yandere al haitham #al haitham #fanfic

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michelleelizabethtanner · 1 year ago

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Fanfic asks 5 & 20!

Ty so much for the ask!

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

I am DETERMINED to finish at least one entry into the 2024 Brio Fic Week. Idk what suddenly happened where my brain no longer can make Brio kiss and instead is just rotting on Animal Crossing Happy Home Paradise, but here I am, designing adorable cottages every day instead of smut writing. 😂

I have a good start though, I swear. It’s gonna happen. If I have to take a PTO day off work and make it happen, this fic is happening.

A Raw Snippet (I haven’t read through yet so this may change, but this is kinda the general feel I was hoping for):

20. Any plans to work on original fiction this year?

I don’t think this will ever happen. Original fiction is hard because you have the task of worldbuilding and characterization from scratch, which requires so much skill to do well. For me specifically, I also would need to feel some sort of passion or attachment to original characters to feel moved enough to invest the hours and hours it would take to create all this from scratch. And idk if I have it in me right now. Creating chemistry is difficult, as we know. Because as consumers of media we know that we don’t always feel that chemistry from fictional characters. So it’s kinda like all these stars have to align for the magic to happen. I suppose there are fictional genres other than romance, but pfffft, who wants to write that? 😂

But also listen, I am TELLING y’all, the GG fandom writers are so far ahead of the traditional romance authorship currently monetizing the most lazy and cliched trope, it isn’t even a competition. Maybe I’m biased because I especially love the Brio chemistry and I love reading original takes on what it looks like, I am yet to find a published work that executes the way you all do. There is so much self doubt in fic writing. But please believe me, if Colleen Linear-Storytelling Hoover can hoover in those bucks, the masterpieces we have gracing our AO3 fandom tag would have no trouble. The world-building, the use of character-affirming symbolism, the subtle exploration of the personal psyches and an unlikely kinship between two damaged, guarded people… We HAVE all that. Our trope is tailored. It’s sprinkled with believable, in-character pieces of structure that make it something unique and beautiful. Our “stuck in an elevator,” or our “high school dating AU,” or our “jealous of new love interest who won’t work out anyway,” is so much more immersive and visual than all these romances I keep trying to tolerate but can’t take seriously because those authors aren’t you guys. Fic has absolutely ruined me.

New Year Fic Asks

#ask games #new year asks #asks #fic writing #nbc good girls #brio fanfic

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ivory-lamps · 3 months ago

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B02: Active Theory of Happiness

Characters: Nagi, Ryui, Toi, Netaro, Daniel & Kafka Location: HAMA Summary: At the 4th ward mayor award ceremony, Nagi steps up onto the platform and takes out his cue cards, only to find they’re wet… Proofreader: Shay

ㅤ

Translator’s Notes ☽.‎˖

Place stains and cue cards / in a good washing machine / they’ll come out brand new: These three lines are a haiku that Nagi comes up with on the spot.

Kafka (heard over a speaker): “...will dedicate my life to restoring HAMA.”

“We don’t have a large shopping centre nor do we have a large investment in the redevelopment of HAMA. But do those things affect HAMA and make it lose its appeal? The answer is no, of course.”

“The situation can still be improved if we revise the way we evaluate its appeal, and reconsider the measures that are put in place despite using the same resources. That’s what HAMA Tours is here to do.”

“I suspect Wards 15, 16, 17 and 18 are the wards with the most residents who have gathered here today. And for HAMA, they’re important and essential strategic wards.”

“As you have all observed earlier, these 5 people who have been appointed as new ward mayors are…”

Nagi: …… ……

Yodaka: Nagi, let’s take some deep breaths.

Netaro: Hey, can I eat some chewy candy?

Toi: It should be fine as long as you don’t make any noise. Right… Ani-sama?

Ryui: Obviously not. Put it away.

Momiji / Kaede: (It’s the ward mayor award ceremony… It’s my 4th time experiencing this, but I still get so nervous…)

HAMA Citizen A: Well, our ward isn’t some fancy Chinatown. …I like it since it’s more relaxed compared to the other wards.

HAMA Citizen B: It’s pretty sad to see that they couldn’t find any candidates since the first generation of ward mayors.

HAMA Citizen C: All of their tours from Wards 1 to 14 have succeeded, so they should be pretty promising, right?

HAMA Citizen D: Yeah! I’ve never heard of having twin ward mayors before, so that sounds interesting. And both of them look so cute~

Daniel: There’s a bunch of empty seats but most of the people here are all praying for their own wards to develop and flourish, huh.

Momiji / Kaede: Yes… You’ve got this, Night Group…! I hope you guys can do a good job reassuring the general public…!

Kafka: “As the representative of all the ward mayors, I shall declare once more that we, including the newly formed Night Group, will do their best to fulfil our responsibilities as ward mayors and to live up to all of your expectations.”

*The crowd claps*

Kafka: “Now, the leader of the Night Group and the 16th ward mayor, Nagi Hachinoya, please step forward.”

Nagi: Yes.

*The microphone shrieks and Nagi flinches*

Nagi: “...Uh… hello. I’m Nagi Hachino–”

*Nagi hits his head on the microphone as he bows*

HAMA Citizen C: …He just hit his head on the mic.

Nagi: “...Ow… Oh… sorry. …Um.”

“......”

HAMA Citizen B: …Is something wrong? We should ask.

Momiji / Kaede: N–Nagi-kun, calm down! No, actually, maybe he’s way too calm…!

Netaro: He’s frozen~

Yodaka: Yeah, it makes me nervous watching him.

Ryui: Hey, you’re seriously making that guy our leader…!?

Toi: C–Cue cards! Nagi-kun, you made them yesterday! Cue cards! They’re in your pocket…!

Nagi: Oh, right. I’ve got cue cards… uhh.

HAMA Citizen D: Oh, he started moving.

Nagi: “......”

HAMA Citizen A: …And he froze again.

Nagi: (The cue cards are… completely wet for some reason. I can’t read a word.)

(Oh, right… I was making the cue cards in my room yesterday when someone told me to come out, but then I forgot I had them in my pocket when I put these clothes in the wash, and there was the fountain on my way here too.)

Daniel: …He’s being silent for way too long. The crowd’s getting restless.

Momiji / Kaede: I hope their impression of Nagi doesn’t worsen…

Nagi: (Oh, well. I give up the cue cards.)

Toi: Oh, he put the cue cards back in his pocket…?

Nagi: “I’ve been asking myself whether or not I’ve been really doing everything I can this whole time.”

HAMA Citizen C: …He suddenly started talking but what’s he talking about?

Ryui: Does this guy not think about the situation we’re in at all…!?

Nagi: “I’ve always been hesitant about everything, thinking that it’ll always end badly for me.”

“Life was always like a flowing river, and I’m just there, staring at it as it flows by.”

“But I ran up a big slope for someone’s sake and clung onto someone’s leg with all my might… Uhh, things have changed for the better after I tried diving into that flowing river and doing everything that I could.”

“So I want to do everything I can.”

Momiji / Kaede: ……

HAMA Citizen C: …He looks so confident. Is his speech over?

Nagi: “Uhh.”

HAMA Citizen A: Nah, it’s not finished yet…!

Nagi: “[*]Place stains and cue cards… in a good washing machine… they’ll come out brand new. …That concludes my speech.”

*A deafening silence can be heard*

Nagi: “HAMA NICE TRIP.”

Nagi: I think I did a pretty good job with that speech, if I do say so myself.

*Ryui shakes Nagi*

Ryui: How was that a good speech!? Were you tryin’ to kill us with second-hand embarrassment!!?

Nagi: U–Ugh… don’t shake me so hard.

Sonia: Release Nagi-san~!

Mashiro: Calm down, you two!

Laika: Two!

Momiji / Kaede: Uh, great job at the ceremony today, everyone. Eat and drink up! I hope it��ll give everyone lots of energy for tomorrow.

Yodaka: Nagi, well done on your speech.

Chou un: I was impressed.

Toi: You did a great job…!

Netaro: It was funny!

Nagi: Thanks. The crowd dispersed really quickly, though.

Daniel: Yeah. I heard an old man pass by the venue and say that you’re probably not cut out for the job. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Momiji / Kaede: Chief…!

Daniel: What? It doesn’t make me feel dejected or anything, ya know?

Momiji / Kaede: (You might feel that way, but that might not be true for other people…! If Nagi-kun gets depressed, then…)

Nagi: Manager, I’m sure our future will be as bright as the sun.

Momiji / Kaede: Huh?

Nagi: …I always thought I was powerless in this world. But I was able to stop Ryui with my own two hands…

Ryui: Literally.

Nagi: I was able to make Toi smile. It’s been a while since that day, but every time I think back on that happiness, it gives me a new found strength. It fills me up with so much dazzling energy.

Daniel: Is that the face of someone who’s filled with energy?

Yodaka: Danny, shh.

Nagi: …Up until now, I was always afraid of being happy, and I think I actively parted ways with a lot of things.

I think someone’s telling me that I can get those things back right now.

Netaro: Is it one of those guardian spirit things?

Toi: Hmm, guardian spirits are, well…

Ryui: There’s nothing you can achieve if you don’t have the confidence.

Nagi: I can do anything right now, then.

Momiji / Kaede: (I never would’ve thought I’d be able to hear Nagi-kun say such positive things…!)

Yeah. We should aim to be happy since we’re alive.

Nagi: ……! We “should” aim to be happy… Yeah.

Netaro: Happiness is a chemical reaction that occurs in the brain, so it’s possible for anyone to experience it. Shall I give you a few references?

Nagi: Yes, please. I’ll read them. And…

I’m going to obtain happiness with my own two hands.

Momiji / Kaede: Yeah!

Nagi: When I obtain happiness, I’ll place them in flowers and scatter the pieces all over the world, so that everyone can be happy.

Momiji / Kaede: That’s a great idea!

Ryui: Scatter the pieces…? That sounds creepy.

Daniel: Oh, yeah. Ryui, about your store…

Ryui: I need to have one if I’m gonna be a ward mayor, right?

Momiji / Kaede: Yeah. Every ward mayor in the Night Group must have a store that’s based locally.

Ryui: I’m already lookin’ at a few places with Toi.

Toi: We were able to miraculously find a really nice one! Both the direction of the house and the houseplan has a good yin and yang balance… But…

Ryui: The owner’s a bit…

Toi: They’re a divination friend of our grandfather.

Ryui: I bet they’ve been plottin’ stuff behind the scenes, but our plans are getting nowhere.

Toi: I’ve tried talking to our grandfather too, but…

Ryui: You don’t need to do all that bothersome stuff. Thanks, though.

Momiji / Kaede: (I think I remember Toi-kun telling me that Ryui-kun’s relationship with their family isn’t very good…)

Ryui: If he wasn’t around, then the store could’ve been built immediately… Geez.

Netaro: Is he getting in your way?

Ryui: Pretty much.

Netaro: Then should I send him a brain signal that will make him say yes? Human brains are pretty easy to–

*Nagi interrupts from the background*

Nagi: He’s trying to say you should take him to a crossing with a red signal and help him cross the road to deepen your relationship with him.

Netaro: Or I could clone him and fake his registr–

Nagi: He’s trying to say you should take out a cool loan and buy the entire property.

Ryui: What the hell are you talkin’ about?

Netaro: Oyoyo?

Toi: You’re just trying to help, right? Thanks, Netaro-san.

Netaro: You’re an important human in my eyes, Toi.

Toi: Huh…? You’re important to me, too, Netaro-san…

Netaro: We have to watch the rest of “AI Crash Landing” once we get back home.

Toi: Yeah! Let’s buy lots of chewy candy on our way home!

Netaro & Toi: Yaaay.

Nagi: Their friendship is something straight out of a Studio Grizzly movie.

Ryui: ……What did you say?

Momiji / Kaede: (Ryui-kun is suddenly in a super bad mood…!)

Yodaka: Have you decided what sort of store to open?

Ryui: …I don’t wanna say.

Yodaka: Oh…? Hehe, I see you’re the type to keep secrets to yourself. Or are you the type that likes surprises?

Ryui: …Tch.

Toi: Wha~? It’s still a secret? I haven’t heard anything, either…

Ryui: ……

Toi: Ani-sama~ Tell me~

Ryui: …Alright. Just you, Toi.

Toi: Okay!

Momiji / Kaede: (They’re whispering… that’s so cute. Ryui-kun always has a soft spot for Toi-kun, huh.)

Yodaka: So we have a young man with an eyepatch who wishes to keep the name of his castle a secret… Sounds rather romantic.

Daniel: We’ll find out soon, anyway.

Momiji / Kaede: Let’s not press him any further right now. We’ll wait until he’s ready to tell us.

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#18trip #18trip translation #nagi #ryui #toi #netaro #kafka #daniel

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space-cowboy-101 · 11 months ago

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🥽 Park Seonghwa, as depicted in a (hopefully near) future Fallout/Apocalypse au.

i’m kinda mad at myself for not putting a little perk picture for hongjoong because both seonghwa and yunho have one and i would’ve used this one for him had i done it. either Small Frame (because it’s hongjoong lbr), Magnetic Personality or Perception. but enough about hongjoong!

seonghwa’s cute lil bashful vault boys 😭 i searched through so many to find the right ones and those two describe him the best in the story, if i’m being honest.

and the nuka cola girl because 1. seonghwa sees the posters and definitely wants to try the outfit on, and 2. he loves nuka cola. who doesn’t. don’t tell him about nuka-world 😳

i’m not really sure where his story is going but i’m excited to write his involvement with hongjoong and how their relationship effects things.

anyway, his little summary thang! (that i now realized i didn’t do for hongjoong…i’ve failed my boy 😔)

Vault life is the only life he’s ever known, having been born into it unlike the old world that he’s heard about from folktales that may or may not be true. It always intrigued him how they had trains that followed tracks built above busy roads and could see a sky that wasn’t manufactured or a display created using a projector. The dwellers that travel outside the Vault told stories of the wastelands, the radioactive lakes and streams, the abandoned buildings and homes that can potentially house super mutants or raiders, and the bright blue sky that seemed to be the only thing not touched by the nuclear blast. But seeing it for himself was as possible as a radroach being killed by a good wack to the hard shell.

A Vault is what he started his own family in and a Vault is where he found a new one when the doctor and his scavengers carry in a dweller from another Vault, the features of the man dewey from the cryogenic system he was inside of before he was found.

‘Military Official’. ‘Air Force Pilot’. ‘Captain’. Those are the words they used to describe him and it caught his attention when he knew he shouldn’t have been listening to their conversation.

It wasn’t until he seen him with the baby the doctor had brought to him, that he came to the realization that this man—Kim Hongjoong—had charmed him with just a glance and the smile full of relief and love that he gave his son when he picked him up from his temporary crib.

…and remember; Vaults were never supposed to be where humans thrived under the pressure of a nuclear holocaust, but where they were tested during the events of one.

i know for a fact that i can’t post the yunho picture without spoiling his entire story 😩 i shouldn’t have added that obvious of a picture to it but i did…and now i have to live with the choice. oh well, i’ll probably post it next week or something 💀

what do you guys think of it so far? 🥹 i get so invested in these stories that they’re all i talk about for a while and honestly tumblr really do be getting it out of my system now. i feel like writing lil drabbles or whatever for my stories and posting it on here since my long stories will be on ao3 but i think i’m incapable of writing anything that isn’t longer than 30 chapters tbh. last time i did, the yungi one-shot was well over 30k words and it got turned into my dragon age story :D fun!

if you have any questions about my au’s or the characters, please don’t be afraid to ask! i will answer in paragraphs and in depth because i love them 🙂 i get so excited about people showing interest in the things i love and i get excited about ateez and yeah 👍🏻

which reminds me, thank you for the likes on my other posts 😭 i hope i can continue to fuel the ateez tag with as much au’s as i can think of and make someone’s day a little brighter with my little ideas!

bye y’all! 🫶🏻👋🏻

#ateez fanfic #seongjoong #hohong #ateez #ateez aesthetic #choi jongho #choi san #jeong yunho #jung wooyoung #kang yeosang #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #seongjoongho or whatever their ship name is 💀#song mingi #alternate universe

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tuesdayisfordancing · 2 years ago

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Picard 3.3 thoughts part two:

“He’s not ‘Dad’.” “He’s a good man.” Relevance, William? Kid hadn’t said he wasn’t (though he will procede to lol) just pointed out that some guy you meet when you’re 23 isn’t automatically your dad because of genetics. (Also aw he said please.)

That being said Riker is pretty cute here overall. And Jack’s understated wtf face when he says “I spent 2 decades watching you get cooked up before you were born” is great. What a thing to say about a guy’s parents.

“Bigger the legend the more disappointing the reality” this is about WESLEY and I’m not wrong.

Um. Did they add the DNA line after seeing all the jokes about the accent being genetic or? I’m gonna be honest it would have been better by my lights to ignore this rather than call attention to it, but I’m sure some people prefer a slightly awkward explanation to none.

Oh my god I was right he literally did say “ugh no thanks” to the whole concept of having a dad. I thought based on the delivery of “I never had one” that I was wishful thinking. This is amazing. Oh man I gotta rewatch the first two episodes with the knowledge that Jack knows exactly who this dipshit is.

Holy shit Picard you PHENOMENAL JACKASS??? Literally changed his fucking mind about whether he should have protected Jack upon learning that Jack knew who he was and hadn’t wanted to meet him??? What the absolute everloving fuck????? !!!!!!

“I think it might be time you called me Number 1” was good

Raffi and Whorf are very cute but I’m having trouble getting properly invested because I just. Don’t we should be starting from a place of her being isolated and miserable to begin with!

Mixed feelings about Beverly being a better doctor because she doesn’t over rely on fancy new tech. I mean, I like it mostly but. Hm something bugging me and I can’t put my finger on what.

Beverly completely ignoring the CMO’s hypothetically being in charge is fantastic though because it’s both a strength (in this case she was needed!) and also an arrogance that could absolutely have led to her getting in the way and causing problems. Hope this is explored more.

She summons Jack to help her! Because they are a team! I don’t know like on the one hand it’s obvious, if nothing else probably the doctors and nurses on the ship would hesitate whether they should listen to her when she’s arguing with their boss, but the whole thing just felt like it got across so well the way they are used to relying on each other.

How is Raffi’s hood staying on while she runs? She and Whorf continue to be cute as hell.

Seven Jack teamup!! This was actually a secret item on my wishlist that I didn’t mention because it had nothing to do with themes I just really like Jack and want him to get to do cool stuff and what’s cooler than bonding with Seven? Also as far as I’m concerned this proves that that one fic is canon.

Are there going to be. Consequences later for Jack knocking out a security person or are we just skipping that? LMAO the doors though.

I really thought that guy was like, going to assume Jack was the bad guy, not that he was the bad guy? But anyway I’m ALWAYS down to whump the pretty boy. Yes please.

Curious like a proper sucker about the Seven hallucination. “Connect the branches. We’ll be together soon. Find me.” What does that mean! I also wonder if he’s picturing whatever’s going on as Seven just because actual Seven is there talking to him, or for another reason?

Hmm, okay it’s not that Picard doesn’t deserve a significant share of the blame but Will you were in command, you made the call to listen to him!

#picard #william riker #beverly crusher #jack crusher (jr)#trying to assess which characters I commented on enough to tag lol #jack crusher

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anthony-sharma · 2 years ago

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Six of Crows Reread - Ch. 12

Now another Inej chapter!

Chapter 12: Inej

“The view from above was disturbing. The Dregs were outnumbered, and there were men working their way around their left and right flanks. Kaz had been right to keep their real point of departure a secret from the others. Someone had talked. Inej had tried to keep tabs on the team, but someone else in the gang could have been snooping. Kaz had said it himself: Everything in Ketterdam leaked, including the Slat and the Crow Club.”

Yeah, unfortunately for Inej, it was one person from their own team who leaked information...

“The cargo containers were stacked like a pyramid here. If she could make it up just one, she could hide herself on the first level. Just one. She could climb or she could stand there and die.

She willed her mind to clarity and hopped up, fingertips latching onto the top of the crate. Climb, Inej. She dragged herself over the edge onto the tin roof of the container.”

Damn, my girl’s willpower is certainly something! It would be so easy to just lie there and let herself die. Of course, Kaz wouldn’t let her just die, but you get the point.

“Just one more. But she couldn’t. Couldn’t push to her knees, couldn’t reach, couldn’t even roll. It hurt too much. Climb, Inej.

“I can’t, Papa,” she whispered. Even now she hated to disappoint him.”

I love how present her parents are to her, even though she hasn’t seen them in quite a while. They’re still present in the decisions she makes and in how she decides to conduct herself in the books. I think it’s also part of the reason why she sticks to her ideals so strongly.

“The rasp of stone on stone. Her eyes flew open. Kaz.”

He bundled her into his arms and leaped down from the crates, landing roughly, his bad leg buckling.”

I’ve seen in fics and I think maybe in headcanons too that the “raspiness” of Kaz’s voice is a sideeffect from the pox that he and Jordie suffered as a child, but I don’t remember if that is ever confirmed in canon or if that’s just something the fans came up with. If any of you guys know, please, drop a comment about it.

But also...OMG, he bundles her into his arms? Like, I know this is a life or death kind of situation but still? Inej being so tiny and being bundled into Kaz’s arms? I’m screaming!!?

“I don’t want to die.”

“I’ll do my best to make other arrangements for you.”

She closed her eyes.

“Keep talking, Wraith. Don’t slip away from me.”

“But it’s what I do best.”

He clutched her tighter. “Just make it to the schooner. Open your damn eyes, Inej.”

She tried. Her vision was blurring, but she could make out a pale, shiny scar on Kaz’s neck, right beneath his jaw. She remembered the first time she’d seen him at the Menagerie. He paid Tante Heleen for information – stock tips, political pillow talk, anything the Menagerie’s clients blabbed about when drunk or giddy on bliss. He never visited Heleen’s girls, though plenty would have been happy to take him up to their rooms. They claimed he gave them the shivers, that his hands were permanently stained with blood beneath those black gloves, but she’d recognised the eagerness in their voices and the way they tracked him with their eyes.”

Omg, I know we get his POV later in the book about how he felt in this moment, but I can just imagine him carrying Inej to the boat and being so freaking terrified that he’s gonna lose her because of Jesper that, although I do not condone how he treats Jesper later on, I definitely understand where he’s coming from.

Also, can we just appreciate how people in the Menagerie (but I am sure not only them) have the hots for Kaz Brekker? Like, we get throughout the books remarks about his haircut from Nina and about how he’s a “demon” from Matthias, but really, he just seems to be a good-looking 17 year old who a lot of people have the hots for.

“Talk to me, Wraith.”

“You came back for me.”

“I protect my investments.”

Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”

Oh Kaz, not the investment thing again! Of course, the poor guy is so emotionally constipated that he’s not capable to admit his feelings for her, but daaamn, that’s cold. But also, I appreciate how Inej is in the verge of dying and can still manage to be sassy with still sasses Kaz.

On another note, there’s this tiny thing here that reinforces what the book mentions later, where it says that Inej is always trying to salvage little pieces of humanity from Kaz and making him seen decent. By saying “you came back for me”, it’s almost like a “you care enough about me to come back” and then he’s like “Nah, you’re an investment” and it’s like damn it, Kaz! You can stop being an asshole for a second. That’s allowed, you know?

Anyway, that’s it for chapter 12. Next up, we get into Kaz’s thoughts once more!

#six of crows reread #six of crows

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pearblossommina · 2 years ago

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ToG Read-A-Long, Empire of Storms, day 10

Ch 58

Ok so then… there’s no lock. Or the lock is already in possession of somebody else?

Who has the lock, then? The witch clans?

Maybe Baba Yellowlegs had it? In the traveling carnival? Maybe Lorcan and Elide can find it if they go back with their traveling carnival friends?

Ansel is here! I remember you. You broke Celaena’s heart, once. You made her afraid of opening up to people. Of making friends.

You kinda suck. Are you… here to make amends?

Ch 59

I guess SO!

I bet Aedion feels like a total ass right now.

The scene at the end with Aedion and Lysandra? Talk about putting the breaks on. Girl, he already proposed to you! What part of “something between us” do you still need convincing of, lol.

If she just wants to be friends, she just wants to be friends. I guess that’ll have to be enough. But I do feel kind of bad for Aedion, it sucks to put your heart out there and get received like that.

Ch 60

"There was not one hour that I did not think about what I did in the desert. How you fired that arrow after twenty-one minutes. You told me twenty, that you'd shoot even if I wasn't out of range. I was counting; I knew how many it had been. You gave me an extra minute."

AW.

That actually means a lot. This girl was the first one to break Celaena’s heart, and it’s good to know that she forgave her. That she was gonna come free her from Endovier. Damn, friendship really does mean forever in this story. And Ansel is a real valuable friend to have.

(My only wish is she would be nicer to Manon?)

(Like I get it, the connection to the Wastes isn’t just gonna be easily forgotten by either of them, but ouch)

(Everyone be nice to Manon, please!)

(She’s on your side, so treat her with respect!)

Another Manorian scene!

(It’s ok you guys, I’m a big girl, I can read about people having sex even if I don’t personally ship it, lol)

(I like reading smut! It’s actually kind of my favorite! I just like it better when… I can have feelings, and get emotionally invested in the characters, y’know?)(I also enjoy sex just for the sake of sex, so I’m happy to read any smut SJM is willing to write, because she’s really good at it, and it’s fun to read)

(I’ll stop picking on these two now)

(They seem happy and healthy and horny, and honestly, good for them)

Maeve is here to crash the party. Well well well. Maybe Aelin is gonna defeat her? Find some way to trick her into ending the oath on all the rest of them? Now would be a good time to do that, because I think Elide would cry a lot if Fenrys and Gavriel decide to obey her and kill Lorcan.

Ch 61

What is Rowan doing so secretly!

Is he earning alliances? I’m real curious.

I would like some clarification on mates and mating, as it pertains to this series. Are mating bonds treated like the most supreme thing in this world, the way they are in ACOTAR? Are they rare? If a person were to lose their mate, would they ever be able to find another one? How many mates can someone have? Is there a way to break a mating bond, if you don’t want to be in it anymore? Are Rowan and Aelin allowed to call themselves mates, because they’ve fallen in love, and claimed each other with bites, or is it more complicated than that? Would people respect a relationship like theirs - if they choose to be together even though they’re not fated mates - or is it taboo to devote yourself to someone like that?

Ch 62

“Dorian cut the Queen of Terrasen a wry glance. “People other than you can solve things, you know.” “

Lol. Yeah, we know!

Good job, baby. You put that mind to good work. You’re good at riddles!

(I think I spaced out, because I don’t remember reading that riddle) (but still. Good job!)

I’m kinda excited for a Manon and Aelin solo adventure!

Ch 63

So um.

No solo adventure, huh?

Just gonna stay right here with the rest of the cast. That’s - not what I wanted, but ok.

Dorian talking to Rowan about dying, oof 💔

At least they are among friends.

(They’re not gonna die tho! By the hands of Maeve? She wishes.)

Ch 64

Manon and Aelin solo adventure!

Let the bond of friendship begin!

I’m hyped!

I was talking to my ER provider about where I am in these books. He was very enthusiastic about telling me that Tower of Dawn is his favorite book in the series, and that I just need to hang in there, because it’s about to get so good.

I didn’t say I’m not enjoying this book, but I was complaining about the pacing, and how I’m sick of the stakes being so high all the time, and just ready for the characters to be happy and be in love. Which. I do still stand by. But also. I am sick of the action sequences that feel like filler episode fights. This book has been kinda nonstop with them. For all that Lysandra complains about her fear of losing friends, it doesn’t seem like that’s a reality. They’re kinda stacked, in terms of strength and power and magic vs the bad guys. I feel like I haven’t really worried about anyone, except Elide, but that was before she and Lorcan joined up with Aelin. Now that they’re all together I feel like they’re pretty much unstoppable.

I hope I’m not about to eat my words, because I DON’T want to see anybody get hurt. But yeah. Would like things to move along, plot wise outside of the action and fighting. I’m ready to feel something emotional.

#tog read along 2023 #empire of storms

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bookipsies · 4 months ago

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How many nights do you think end with Adolin/Shallan asking each other, as they always do, “should we ask him tomorrow? To be with us? Is it too soon? Also not the right timing we are busy” And they always decide “no we’ll wait 😔 to be responsible”

Meanwhile kaladin is slamming his head into rocks crying wishing he had someone to love him but unfortunately everyone hates him but he deserves it because he sucks so so much who could love him.

Meanwhile at least 70% of Urithuru every single night is filled with people having debates about “who loves kaladin stormblessed more and why it’s me: a ted talk” every night Dalinar shows up to one and is like “I’m disbanding these. It’s me. I love him the most that is my precious boy. I am the proud father of 3 wonderful boys stop talking about my son.”

Not limited to just a human fan club also… the undoubted book club/ religion that has popped up in the singer population about “how that kaladin guy actually is really cool” led by an actual high ranking member of the fused (Leshwi. His other wife).

[Side note: I do honestly believe there will be a chapter in WaT in which either Adolin or Dalinar is going to have to kill Leshwi and they will stand over her corpse and be like “you don’t even know him he is the love of my life my pride and joy keep your paws off of him” unless of course there is a chapter in which Leshwi shows up on Dalinar’s doorstep and is like “it’s about to time to make this family…one member bigger” and Dalinar is like “ahhhh get in here I’ll get someone to make us curry let’s talk about kaladin for 5 uninterrupted hours” ]

Actually probably Azure too is writing a journal as she goes to find Zahel/Vasher and like half the entries are about how sick kaladin is and she wished they would have hung out more.

Fuck it I think the goddamn horse likes him too. Even Gallant is like “holy shit I thought I was strictly Kolinar boys through and through but turns out rules are meant to be broken”

[Second side note: Sanderson you’re making me nervous about how much you’re including the horse in the wacky adventures. It was cute the first few times to be like “wow look at these giant and noble and very loyal horses what a cool concept for a shardbearer to ride” but now it’s getting to “Why do I personally feel extremely protective of Gallant and am invested in his specific well-being as much as I am any of the main characters?” Because if the answer is to kill him I can kindly direct you to fuck off actually. The horse Brandon? That’s sick🤢 .]

I know I know we gotta save the world and all that and maybe have to deal with some interplanetary consequences depending how exactly you save it….but is there not time for kaladin to sit in a beanbag while shallan and adolin spoon feed him soup and he falls asleep under a little blanket adolin made for him out of some of his old shirts. Can we just chill the cosmic war for like, a week, a month? Kaladin is just now discovery therapy and I think it’s really gonna reframe a lot of things for everyone if we all participated.

(Taravangian is not invited. Look I know a narcissist when I see one and therapy is so tricky and sometimes useless for them and Tara’s perhaps one of the top 10 narcissists in literature. Also he made Dalinar sad so what the fuck? Go eat wood chips you freak. Why are you even talking to Wit leave him alone get a job.)

(I know I know your instinct is to say also Moash isn’t invited no actually Moash is pretty open and shut therapy wise. He’s allowing himself to be manipulated into something very harmful to distract himself from the fact that he’s also in love with Kaladin. And Moash that’s so fine it’s not even that gay at this point because everybody in the entire idk…tristate planetary area loves Kaladin. It’s like A Thing. Lean into it please stop doing dumb shit for no reason. My sympathy can only extend so far before you, too, will join Taravangian in the time out circle I call the octagon where I pummel you and him to death via mixed martial arts in front of a crowd.)

Anyway thank you everyone again for attending this nights “why I love Kaladin stormblessed the most : a ted talk” next week Reggie it’s you remember so please have a presentation prepared and turn in your Kaladin art pieces by 7 pm Thursday (but like in Roshar terms)if you do want them to get judged before the breakfast social next Saturday (but like in Roshar terms).

The Kaladin/Shallan/Adolin situation is not a love triangle. It’s a couple who love each other and also their very tired best friend while the best friend is oblivious. Every single time I read about Adolin worrying about Shallan’s crush on Kaladin, I’m like, Adolin, you also have a crush on Kaladin. That throuple will thrive the moment Kaladin gets an actual vacation and has time to think about things not related to work.

#to be fair everyone in stormlight has a crush on kaladin #kaladin stormblessed #words of radiance #oathbringer #shallan davar #adolin kholin #stormlight archive #brandon sanderson #shakadolin #rhythm of war #cremposting #stormlight spoilers #cosmere

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novemberdevils · 2 months ago

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I’m stuck waiting for my train to come so I will be answering your answers and then comment about the chapter for a bit.

No because cunty jack is the best thing that could happen to anyone and please let him out a lot more me and nico would be appreciative of it, I feel like jack being the only narrator also gives the fic a sense of being a reality rather than a fic because irl all of are unreliable narrator’s because we have no idea what other people think-look it’s 3 AM you will be getting a 3 AM wisdom from me ignore them- but jack not being able to trust that what the other person is telling him is kinda heartbreaking; he thinks that everything that is said to him has to have a gain to the other person and he cannot believe that someone would compliment him simply because they wanted to, STOP TEASING IMOLA AND MONACO you are torturing me!!!, oh yeah like duh they want to swap seats what do you mean they could be making out they would never, ok good I was terrified that carlos would be a Bad Man and betray jack so good to know they are at least on the same page with this, im THIS close to bribe you to stop teasing imola and Monaco like please my poor heart cant handle it especially with imola, jack being unreliable is the strongest bond love that for him, making trevor an indy driver is the best decision like he embodies the chaos and help make it even more chaotic so it feels the best decision rather than have him a Regular Guy, (unless nico told somebody in his corner who knowsssss) omg PLEASE post something with nico pov I will do anything you want please im begging you, what do you mean he will finally blow up about how the people are ignoring? How stressed he is PLEASE post it NOW!!!!.

Please tell me about the inertia playlist I genuinely would love to hear about your thoughts and who do you think fit which song, it. i will be forreal i think i did say in the last of your asks i answered that i won't write nico pov because narrative reasons i would only make an exception to write some dumb shit like that and post it on tumblr. I will annoy you until you either hate me or post the nico pov so I apologise in advance, oh yeah the buying food was established so we can have even more fights and the loser have to but food and it’s the best thing we did, please I would do anything I can to throw perez from the rb seat and get Oscar to be there but I can’t abd I have to settle for being happy and unhappy when he wins, OMG what do you mean that you talk about me I blushed genuinely like my face is so red it’s not funny 😭😭 I got so happy reading that and believe me I cannot stop talking or thinking about your fic it’s taking too much space in my life; my friends were telling me that I was close to getting fined every time I talk about it but they are also invested in it, but yeah genuinely this made me so happy, car accident are a vital part of an f1 race so I know that this is not going to be the last one but don’t put them all in jack’s home race he needs to win one.

THE SNIPPET??? HOW DARE YOU OH MY GOD I HATE YOU PLEASE POST THE CHAPTER, LIKE GENUINELY I WAS GOING TO FUCKING SCREAM IN A TRAIN I NEED MORE!!!!!!.

As a punishment for you for posting that snippet I will not put the comment about the chapter here but you will have to wait until I decide I punished you enough then I will send it.

Please post the chapter I will bribe you im not above bribery

i yam still here. Hello. cunty jack my beloved... he is definitely here to stay, even if jack keeps going back on it in his head. he still thinks he should Not act like that to the media, then he keeps doing it. womp womp. i love 3 am wisdom... and you are right + that's another part of why i intend to keep the entire fic as jack's perspective, even tho i've had more than one person ask about a nico pov lol. like i said i am not against doing a silly little tumblr drabble from inertia!nico's pov or something but as far as the main fic goes it will be all jack all unreliable all the time. he is on the struggle bus. cannot read nico for shit. but he tries. he is just wrong a lot. oops! jack Is in fact a big fan of assuming the worst in everyone and assuming that everyone thinks the worst of him (a little bit of egocentrism there). even when nico is being genuine towards him he just cannot fathom why nico would ever want to be genuine towards him, so he refuses to consider that as a possibility. obviously it must be some kind of game or ego trip or something that nico gets some type of pleasure/gain from because he would never just be genuine with jack. they're rivals that would be stupid!

i will never stop teasing imola and monaco... well maybe imola bc hopefully i will post that soon. but monaco is still a big old work in progress i think i paused writing to do imola editing in the dead middle of a scene lmao that was definitely a choice. that's so a later me problem though... hopefully i will remember all the scene plans i did not write down anywhere! brain notebook

i just htmled one of the Jack Blows Up scenes. so you will find out soon. evil laugh

i do srsly want to go into unnecessary detail about the playlist i will probably make a google doc that has like viewing access and just post the link at some point in the interest of it being easily editable (bc i am still making changes to that playlist lol i probably will be forever). i do love to yap. and i listen to that playlist A Lot and am often thinking about the implications of a lot of the songs on there so i likely will get into it. and post said link. when doc exists. that doc is still just a vague thought

hey i Am a certified yapper and most of the people in my life are aware that i write some kind of fanfiction tbh so i really cbf with my dignity or anything when it comes to admitting that. i was in the creative writing program at my college for a while and fun fact like Every creative writing major writes or has written fanfiction... i would be in class talking about this shit. and getting super long asks/comments/messages/anything about my fics (i mean getting Any Anything about my fics tbh) makes me super happy so i could not help but be like. omg look at how much this anonymous internet person has to say about a thing i wrote! it brings me a lot of joy so thank you for that

oh haha yeah my evil snippet. as repirations for taking so long on this chapter. BUT IS ALMOST DONE well not really almost i'm Nearly halfway through the html i think (it gets hard to tell) and then i'm just gonna post it. whenever it's done. we're trucking

:( i will post soons

#ask #big emphasis on the Was in the creative writing program #the creative writing to aviation pipeline may or may not exist #maybe i invented it #that's not the point #AAAAHASGDHFHGHGH #i'm gonna lose my mind

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