#might post a few other old things I wrote
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Old men aren’t always wise, Primo is well aware of that ; his own father being the most striking exemple of elder stupidity he can think of. Yet he, Primo Emeritus, humbly thinks he himself has been made wise by life. Raising three younger brothers since their idiot of a father wouldn’t...well, it definitely taught him things, and, most importantly, allowed him to form a strong bond with them.
He knows his brothers like the back of his hand ; severe, cold and bitter Secondo, who shies away from the very love he desperately craves ; flamboyant, charismatic Terzo, hidding a bottomless pit of self-hatred under pretty smiles, witty jokes and flirty comments ; sweet, kind-hearted Copia, who feels like an impostor as he battles with Sister Imperator’s clumsy, sometimes harsh and unfit motherly affection. They aren’t perfect, and neither is Primo or their relationship, but they tried, tried so hard, built trust, love and loyalty between all of them, and in the end, it’s all that matter.
Point is. Primo is wise, and he knows his brothers. Knows Terzo – no, not Terzo. Alessandro. So as he watches the scene unfolding in front of him, he knows instantly. It’s in the way his brother’s eyes linger on the rythm guitarist, not long enough for it to be obvious, but enough for Primo to notice. In the way Terzo is almost always subcounciously turning toward the quintessence ghoul as he talks and offers new ideas. In the way his face lights up when Omega praises said ideas, and add his owns. In the way the singer takes every occasions to brush against his ghoul, to adjust the position of his crooked grucifx, to pat his strong arms. How Terzo’s ears grow pink when they make eye contact for just a fraction too long.
Omega is, admitedly, harder to read, even though Primo worked with the ghoul for a time. He always liked him, sturdy, serious, as amazing a pack leader as a musician. He seems more relaxed with Terzo than he was with Primo, a tad more playful, which the older man doesn’t resent. And despite his difficulties to intrepret the quintessence ghoul’s attitude, there are signs that don’t lie. A way of angling himself so that Terzo is never out of his sight, leaning ever so slightly into Terzo’s fleeting touch, praising him with a special kind of warmth in his voice, the ocasional soft, fond chuckle at one of the singer’s joke, absent-mindedly brushing his tail against Terzo’s leg.
If all that wasn’t enough, the other ghouls’ frequent shared knowing glances would be great giveaways as well. So Primo smiles and keeps listening, keeps watching.
Once they reach the end of the practice session, Terzo saunters toward the armchair his older brother folded himself in, ever the showman, grinning.
« So, what do you think, old man ? »
Primo chuckles softly.
« I see you’ve been working hard. I must say, I’m impressed. You’ve grown, and your music with you. »
For just a moment, Primo gets a small, private smile ; Alessandro’s smile, as his little brother squeezes his bony hand in his gloved one.
« Thank you, » he whispers. Then his smile widens, turns into that cocky grin everyone knows, his voice rising again. « Had any favorite ? Ah, your growling vocals-loving hide must have liked Mummy Dust, right ? But you’re a sentimental one too. Maybe He is ? »
Primo shakes his head with a huff.
« Both are very nice, as is the rest of the album, but I have to confess, Deus In Absentia struck me the most. »
At that, Terzo’s face makes something complicated, and he looks over his shoulder, meeting Omega’s eyes from where the ghoul is packing his guitar. He stares back, tipping his head in acknowledgement. Terzo looks back at Primo with an expression just a tiniest bit more eager than he’d usually let it be.
« Really ? Omega helped me with the lyrics. I admit, it might be one of my favorites as well. »
As always, Terzo is quick to offer his arm to his older brother when Primo gets up, much less gracefully than in his youth.
« Well, it is truly a touching song, in my opinion. Both emotional and majestic. »
He leads the both of them to his rose garden in comfortable silence, and only speaks up once he’s sure they are truly alone.
« So, Omega, eh ? Somehow, I’m not even surprised. »
Terzo splutters, almost tripping over his own feet.
« Wh- what ? I don’t- »
A warm smile pulls at Primo’s lips, lightening his weathered face.
« Alessandro Terzo Emeritus, I have known you for your entire life. I know how being in love looks on you. »
For a few seconds, his little brother stares at him, before letting out a long sigh and running a hand through his hair, ears going pink again.
« He is- he’s special, Prim- Dante. He- I never felt that way before. Not that much. »
Primo huffs, gives Terzo’s arm a light squeeze.
« I am glad. I always thought he was a truly admirable ghoul. I trust he takes good care of you ? »
Terzo hums, hanging his head down, raven black locks brushing his features.
« It might sound stupid, but he makes me feel...special. Me, not Papa Emeritus the third. Like he can see right through every layers of bullshit I wrap myself in. »
Primo stops walking, turning around to face his little brother. His happy-looking, flustered little brother. Softly, gently, he presses his bony hand to Terzo’s chest, right above the heart.
« You deserve it. You deserve someone who sees you. I am so, so very happy for you. »
Terzo lights up.
« I’m thinking...I’d like him to know my name. My real name, I mean. I know he would use it wisely ; hell, he was long hesitant about calling me Terzo in public. »
Though it isn’t a question, he looks up through his lashes at Primo, in search of something. The older man pats his brother head with a raspy chuckle. Gives him the reassurance he needs ; the one their father could never give them ; the one Primo endavored to offer his brothers whenever he could.
« I’m sure he’ll be honored. A lovely ghoul indeed. » Primo takes a step back, considers, then decides that a bit of teasing cannot hurt. «  And he’s big too, isn’t he ? »
Terzo chokes on his inhale, instinctively covering his ears, either to hide the flush that can only be seen there because of the paint, or to fruitlessly try and block words he already heard.
« I- the hell ? »
With a snort, Primo smiles mischieviously.
« What ? He is, you barely reach what, his chest perhaps ? »
He waits for realization to dawn on Terzo before adding :
« But, you know. Huge down there too, I’m sure. »
His little brother splutters, before shaking his head incredulously.
« If you were Secondo, I would have kicked you, old man. »
Primo chuckles.
« I am sure that if Secondo had made such a comment, you two would be fighting like you used to as kids, rolling on the ground and all that. »
Terzo smirks.
« Well, I wouldn’t be able to pull his hair anymore. »
With a tut, Primo swats his younger brother on the back of his head.
« Low blow. But, in all seriousness. I am so very glad you are happy. »
« ...Thanks, Dante. »
28 notes · View notes
wordstome · 10 months ago
Text
how c.ai works and why it's unethical
Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.
The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)
youtube
I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.
How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].
I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.
"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."
Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.
(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)
Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:
It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.
C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.
Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.
DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.
(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)
5K notes · View notes
drchucktingle · 1 year ago
Text
reverse call out post
i have noticed that SOMETIMES it really bothers folks to discover i am sincere and not playing a character. that tinglers are deep artistic expression. i think it  because these few buckaroos are often kind and even politically left but had problematic ways just a few years back
these buckaroos are forced to confront their previous assumptions about neurodivergence and queerness, which is bound to happen as time trots on and cultural landscape evolves. but this sudden realization they have about themselves apparently MUST be ignored and pushed away
theres BIG TIME buckaroos on this very platform who publicly made fun of and gatekept my autism. these posts are STILL THERE. folks questioning my bisexuality. and these are buds who at one time worked with chuck and were pretending to ‘like me’ in way that i now see was irony
these are a previous generation of liberal ‘comedy forum’ buds who laugh and laugh at ‘ridiculous bad erotica’ and wrote as a money scheme. those who would later say with concern ‘chuck tingle is homophobic for making fun of queer erotica’. the same THEY might gleefully write
and i think their reaction is a way to deal with truth that THEY were doing these things ironically and have ABSOLUTELY NO CONCEPT that someone else couldve been creating joyful queer neurodivergent art during the same timeline with sincerity instead of irony.
so now as chuck gets taken more seriously they have to confront something. question of ‘wait, was i laughing at a real person the whole time? was i calling someone homophobic when in reality it is much more homophobic to MAKE that accusation, because queerness is not a monolith?’
old posts calling out chuck as fake, dehumanizing me, gatekeeping my place on spectrum of autism AND sexuality are still up. they wont be addressed because these folks cannot ever acknowledge they treated someones very existence as a joke. they will not admit THEY needed to grow
and honestly buckaroos, I FORGIVE THEM. nobody is dang perfect and the internet is swirling with irony poisoning. those folks on old forums were BATHING IN IT DAILY. it does not bother me because it is the past, but pondering on it during moments like this i am compelled to write
i do not bring this up to punish for past, but to hope buckaroos remember lesson in the future: you do not need to gatekeep. you do not need to make yourself the arbiter of others lifestyle and identity. you do not need to score online points as a way of proving your goodness.
proving love is complicated sometimes, and a big part or that complicated journey is accepting there are some unique buckaroos out there, buds who actually ENJOY making neurodivergent art and expressing their queerness in unique ways. who need time to learn THEMSELVES through art
it is my belief and suggestion that buds allow others this space. to accept them as they come. to TROT WITH THEM INTO THE FUTURE. thats a heck of a way to prove love is real. i think we can make this trot of sincerity together and DANG am i looking forward to it. LOVE IS REAL
5K notes · View notes
cuubism · 6 months ago
Text
Found this old fic concept in my notes, I doubt I'll ever get around to writing it or that I could do it justice if I did, but it still makes me laugh so I wrote it up as a little blurb. Perhaps it will make you laugh too.
Mega Popstar Dream and Hob, his extremely non-famous celebrity crush
So in this universe Dream is an extremely famous musician. He's like Taylor Swift level of famous, if you walk up to any random person on the street they would know who he is. Meanwhile Hob is an actor but really not very well known, he was in a few small projects and is in the core cast of one TV show that's well-regarded but not super popular.
It's Dream's FAVORITE TV SHOW and Hob is his FAVORITE ACTOR that he's ferally OBSESSED WITH. Everyone knows about this too, Dream is really obvious about it. In interviews people will ask him what he likes and he's like "this is my favorite TV show" "have you seen Hob Gadling in that show isn't he incredible", They'll ask him if he has a celebrity crush (as a joke) and he's like "YES HOB GADLING 😍" like it's become a meme in Dream's fandom how much he has a crush on this random actor.
They've never met though, probably Dream was afraid to -- 'never meet your heroes' and all -- and never let his team book any overlapping events. So he's never seen Hob in person, only watched his favorite TV show 65 times in a row and memorized every inch of his face. Like a stalker.
So then a Buzzfeed-esque YouTube channel is running a special edition of their usual challenge show, "People Meet Their Celebrity Crush", except this time it's "CELEBRITIES Meet Their Celebrity Crush." Dream's entire team conspires against him to book him on this. Dream doesn't know what it is until the very moment since the whole point is to surprise people with their crush. Needless to say, Hob was REALLY dubious when the channel reached out like "do you want to come on as Dream's celebrity crush" but what's he gonna do say NO? say NO when Dream is so pretty and cute? So yeah he goes.
Anyway during the moment in the video when they revealed his celebrity crush to him -- aka Hob just looking like a totally normal and random guy -- Dream literally tripped over a chair and fell on the floor and then fainted. Instant meme and it became the thumbnail of the video. When Dream woke up to find Hob crouched by him all concerned asking if he was okay he nearly had a panic attack, he was never more flustered and nervous in his whole life not even performing for crowds of millions.
Hob fell in love instantly. He doesn't even know much about Dream, he hasn't even listened to Dream's music other than what's just playing ubiquitously on the radio all the time but all it took was watching Dream fall over a chair and then look up at him with his huge starry eyes and he was like 'This one's mine forever idc. I gotta protect this nerd he won't survive in the wild.'
Anyway they did start dating after that and Dream never leaves the honeymoon phase for the rest of his whole life, he truly thinks Hob is the most handsome man and best actor in the entire world and will tell anyone so at any opportunity, he goes around saying things like "see if you believe really hard you too can marry your celebrity crush 🥰" with zero irony, he might have skipped the Grammys to go to the premiere of season 3 of Hob's show (Hob didn't ask him to do that) (Dream won the Grammy but had more fun staring at Hob's face for 2 hours than he would have had at the awards show). Meanwhile Hob never talks about Dream in public because Dream already has negative 500% privacy in his life, he's extremely protective of him, and he allegedly punched one of the paparazzi in the face when they tried to take stealth shots at their wedding which was supposed to be a private affair. ALLEGEDLY. No charges were filed.
Dream did post one photo of the wedding on insta for his adoring fandom in which he described Hob as his knight in shining armor and then denied any knowledge of any 'alleged' events when asked about it in the future. Because Hob was so much more private about their relationship than Dream, for a while Dream's fandom had been like HOB DOESN'T DESERVE DREAM but after the (alleged) story about Hob punching someone in the face came out they were all obsessed with him. So that solved that problem.
(Despite Hob's efforts a paparazzi photo did come out of them the morning after the wedding, Hob sitting on the terrace drinking coffee, Dream sitting on his lap wearing Hob's shirt and looking thoroughly ravished. Dream might have framed it.)
Then they lived happily ever after. Dream put Hob in every one of his music videos regardless of whether it made sense for the story. Hob got one of Dream's songs put in his favorite TV show which made Dream's whole entire year. The end :)
868 notes · View notes
markscherz · 5 months ago
Note
Can I ask how you feel about your Tumblr fame?
I get the impression you just made this account for normal casual funsies reasons, but it kinda blew up by happenstance. If that's right, I'm curious if now you feel like it's kind of a more serious thing, where you have an opportunity to sorta act as a science communicator with a reach you otherwise might not?
Or maybe something else? You gonna see if you can somehow leverage your Tumblr fame to get research funding? Deputize us to harass polluters and developers destroying habitats? Crowdsource name ideas for new species?
It's a bit bizarre, in that it has very little real-world-ness to it. I showed my mother the ongoing tumblr celebrity poll, and she was like 'how many people could possibly be interested in frogs?', to which I replied 'well as of today about 46,000 and counting'.
I have always had an unhealthy relationship with fame. I spent most of my teen and young adult life fawning after it, as is I suppose very often the case.
More after the cut…
I always really wanted to be famous, but I was never really interested in changing who I was or what I represented in that pursuit. That is to say, I wanted to be known for what I was already doing, or for things that were already interesting for me, rather than things that might have much higher chances of success but require more effort or be less in line with the things that I am interested in.
I had my first brush with virality in 2012, when a poem I wrote went a little viral (largely thanks to StumbleUpon). I remember the rush of seeing how much attention it was getting, and staying up late to keep refreshing the page as the visitor numbers went up and up and up.
But not long after that, I had some closer encounters with fame and people becoming famous. That was extremely eye-opening. I witnessed first hand how strongly that can affect someone's life, for good and for bad. That experience also made me realise, quite jarringly, that famous people are still just people; that celebrity is something extrinsic to them; that they also wipe their own butts (if they are able); and that in many cases, it is a substantial inconvenience if not downright pain in the ass for them. I think this is why we see so many of the big celebrities having mental health crises or trying to live as much of their lives out of the public eye as possible.
That experience pretty much stifled my desire to achieve fame, and really changed my relationship with it. I should add that I could say much more on this topic, but nothing so coherent or insightful as John and Hank Green, who have given me so much clarity on this topic over the years through their thoughtful commentary on youtube and their podcasts.
Anyway, in spite of the fact that fame itself doesn't really appeal to me anymore, I do still have a problem wherein I quickly became addicted to the microdosing of euphoria associated with every reblog and like and follow. So I put huge efforts into social media in order to try to gain traction in the space that I felt I could really compete in—Very Niche SciComm™—and build up a following.
Tumblr was the first platform where I felt that really succeed; I managed to fight my way to a few thousand followers with a thick queue of regular posts about herpetology and other science. At that time, there was a great community building up in the rudimentary private messaging system—I am still friends with several other tumblr bloggers from that era (none of whom I have ever met in person). From that early time (2013), I think my most successful post was probably this one about germination of 32,000 year old seeds—a post that, as of today, has 836 notes, but at the time felt huge and exhilarating.
As I went through gradschool, I got more and more active on twitter, and less and less active on tumblr (by the time I wound down, I had about 8,000 followers on tumblr). This was partly because of the pornbot takeover on tumblr, which meant I basically could not go on the platform in public or at work, but also because the audience and interactions are just fundamentally different. Twitter had a different kind of vibe and energy than tumblr, and there were real SciComm experts there, who were doing it just completely differently. More importantly, I became more focussed on doing outreach aimed at colleagues, rather than non-experts.
Then, in 2017, I hit headlines for the first time. The description of Geckolepis megalepis made it big on social and traditional media, and I had my first experience with real media attention. I had a flurry of late-night phone-calls with journalists in the US. This was a different animal altogether than the few viral posts I had had until that point. It was extremely stressful, but exhilarating. Then in 2018, our chameleon fluorescence story made similar headlines, and in 2019 the Mini frogs, and in 2021 with gecko fluorescence and the smallest chameleon.
Seeing my name on the BBC News website and in the New York Times and National Geographic—those things have been the most surreal moments of near-fame I have experienced so far. The number of followers on social media is quite difficult to conceptualise, but seeing your own name in a media outlet that you consume regularly, or have grown up with, is more palpable.
In any case, I continued to run with twitter as my main platform for years, because I found the interaction with colleagues and other academics highly stimulating. In 2021, I even posted a twitter thread about a different species of frog from Madagascar every day for the full year. All this work was ultimately greeted with mediocre success; I just crested over 10,000 followers a few months before the Musth takeover. But then the platform became basically unusable. And in the fallout, I came back to tumblr, where, just by chance, I happened to find a post about the Mini frogs and reply to it and it went properly viral and now here we are. In the space of a year, I went from having 8000 followers to having >46,000.
How do I feel about that? It's bonkers. I think it is great that so many people are interested in hearing the Good News about frogs and other creatures. But I also feel like I am not really on the same playing field as most of the others in that poll mentioned above, in that I do not have any of the celebrity that several others have. And I know for a fact that there are fanblogs with far, far larger followings than I have. But perhaps that is the great thing about tumblr; that the playing field is somehow levelled…
What's the point of this ramble? Well, first I guess it is to outline that I have given fame a lot of thought over the years, and I have a long-standing and complicated relationship with it, and take it quite seriously. Second, to illustrate that I have been working on as a science communicator or person in outreach for many years—it has kind of been my social media brand since I started gradschool in 2013. And third, to kind of outline how we got here, because I often feel like you have to know where an arrow has come from in order to figure out which direction it will continue to fly.
You asked if I would somehow try to leverage my tumblr fame to get research funding—I already do that. In fact, my social media activity had a signfiicant role in landing me my current job, and will continue to help me achieve tenure. Outreach is an important part of my job, and funders like it too.
I would love to have the community-building power and tenacity of the brothers Green; Nerdfighteria has achieved some incredible things over the years, and the power of that community is now being seen at an unprecedented scale in their battle for equitable access for tuberculosis diagnosis and treatment. But I do not have that in me; this platform is the wrong one for community activation, and my community is still too small for that. Moreover, it is not organised or structured, in the way that I think effective deputisation would require.
As for the crowdsourcing of name ideas, that is currently off the table. I like to try to name things on my own or with my colleauges; it is a very good part of the process. And I have yet to hear a suggestion for a Mini species epithet that I had not already come up with myself, so I am not convinced that this would really augment the experience.
So for now, I hope that the main way I use the platform, and the power that comes with a few thousand followers, will be to spread the Good News about frogs and other wonderful animals, and the other kinds of science happening around us (and occasional other off-topic content). I hope that you are encouraged to explore the world around you, and to do your own reading to find out more about the subjects that interest you. And also I will continue to try to make meme-worthy content, because it does nice, if addictive, things in my brain when I get the clicks.
Thanks for asking, anon, and sorry for the Wall of Text.
385 notes · View notes
phoenixyfriend · 2 months ago
Text
Weird Egg?
Okay so in theory, Obi-Wan was plausibly on Mandalore when Anakin was born, right?
(this is technically a variation on a few other fics and AUs I've seen, and I'll list the stuff that came to mind at the end.)
While on Mandalore, Obi-Wan finds An Egg while hiding in a cave with Satine. And he doesn't recognize it, and Satine doesn't recognize it, and even Qui-Gon doesn't recognize it.
Which makes it weird, at the very least, and probably rare. It's the size of his HEAD and even though there's no parent around, the egg is… warm, now? He didn't notice at first, but it's definitely producing at least some of its own heat.
So Obi-Wan brings the egg with him, which is a pain in the ass in terms of maneuvering, but they do seem to have better luck avoiding Death Watch than before, which uh. Given that the egg feels warmer when they're getting lucky, and seems to glow in the Force, they think might not be a coincidence. A lucky rock, except it's alive.
Mission ends. Obi-Wan plans to take the egg back to the temple for study in case they just discovered Something, and as he's saying goodbye to Satine… the egg Hatches.
It is a dragon.
The dragon can project words into Obi-Wan's mind. It's not quite capable of complex thoughts yet, but it's a he (probably), and has a name (Anakin!), and considers the person who's been carrying him and protecting him and keeping him warm for the past six months to be his mom!
Obi-Wan protests at this. Qui-Gon decides to make his life harder with the 'correction' that Obi-Wan would be a dad, not a mom.
So now Obi-Wan has a small dragon which will be growing to the size of a house, that imprinted on him and is following him home and calling him dad and insisting on sleeping in his bed
Idk if you've ever read Septimus Heap, but… the MC of that found a Fancy Rock, put it in his bag, carried it around for a YEAR because he kept forgetting to take it out of his bag, and then it hatched into a dragon. And I kept thinking about that the whole time I wrote this.
In Obi-Wan's defense, he does Have A Plan.
Until the dragon hatches, turns out to be a sapient as a toddler (with promise of growth), and calls him Dad.
And now the plan is gone.
He just wanted to bring a cool egg back to the Temple for study!
And now the Mandalorians are pulling out old books about whatever the fuck this is because these things APPARENTLY went extinct around the same time as the underwater dragon-adjacent thing that is the Mythosaur.
Obi-Wan learns that supposedly the eggs are inert until something with the Force interacts with it in a Purposeful Manner.
Which includes "probing it a little to see if whatever is inside is actually alive."
Anakin's a standard western dragon that can breathe fire because Flyte. Also this post.
Weeeee okay small text for the references I mentioned.
Obviously, first up is the Septimus Heap series by Angie Sage, specifically Magyk and Flyte.
The fic series I was thinking of initially that kind of jumpstarted the AU process was Boga Service Varactyl AU, but specifically Kenobi Kafé Service Animal Boga AU.
I've been seeing a couple of dragon shapeshifter AUs, including that post I linked earlier from @ahsoka-in-a-hood, @bubblew0lf1's dragon shapeshifter AU, and @squad-724's Dragon Jedi AU has been all over my dash for the past few days.
Stubborn to the Bones by @tideswept, which was part of what had me connecting the various dots of Obi-Wan Finding Animal Anakin on a mission, though our outcomes are admittedly very different lol. (Their fic is shippy, and mine is more decidedly gen/familial with a slight nod to Obitine.)
330 notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 9 months ago
Note
Hi Jen!!!❤️❤️❤️
I saw your requests were open so possibly, social media au or not, Cillian Murphy’s or Christopher Nolan’s daughter (either one would be fine, but I saw your imagine about Nolan!reader x Cillian so maybe Cillian would be better, either one is fine though) dating Charles Leclerc or lando Norris
(I don’t know if this has been done yet but it feels very random, but it I saw you wrote for F1 and Cillian so I just thought of that crossover. Couldn’t decide which driver I wanted to request for so I’ll leave it up to you between Charles and lando)
But if you do, then thank you!!!
my favorite nepo baby | lando norris
faceclaim saorsie ronan (don’t hate me, yes ik there’s more irish actresses but i love saoirse) also i love this request, mixing random fandoms is my favorite thing ever
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen1, ynfans and 56,377 others
danielricciardo happy birthday, lady bird
mclarentears WHAT
dannyric333 does daniel know everyone??
bottaszz you don’t understand THIS IS IMPORTANT TO ME
landonorris my favorite nepo baby
danielricciardo the nepo baby says thank you
landonorris tell the nepo baby to make an account
danielricciardo no - the nepo baby
landonorris i tried
vettelsbees this is my roman empire
view all 23,477 comments
summer break
Y/n Murphy only knew Daniel Ricciardo because he had friends everywhere. It was only a matter of time before the Irish actress met the famous honey badger. Soon, his friends became her friends and the whole friend group was hanging out everywhere.
One of their hang out spots was the F1 paddock. Daniel insisted for Y/n to come to his favorite race, the Austin Grand Prix. It was no secret that Daniel is secretly a Texan so he wanted his new friend to experience the Texas atmosphere.
“We need to get you some boots and maybe a longhorns jersey. You’ll look so cool, trust me.” Daniel said as him, Heidi and Y/n walked into the AlphaTauri garage.
“He’s going to convert you into a Texan.” Heidi whispered to Y/n.
“Can you imagine me going home to my father speaking with a texas accent? He’ll have a stroke!” Y/n laughed.
“I bet that by the end of the day, you’ll love texas as much as I do.” Daniel smirked. “Maybe you’ll find a country boy you can take home to your old man.”
“Oh god, he’s going to have more strokes, die then come back and have more strokes.”
“Well then I can get you a British boy that won’t make your old man die.”
Y/n knew who Daniel was referring to. On the day of her birthday, which was a few days ago, Daniel showed her the comments that Lando had left on his post.
‘my favorite nepo baby’
While she told everyone she didn’t have an Instagram account, she had a secret one that only had about twenty followers which were close family and friends. She used that account to look at Lando’s account. She was going to lie, he was attractive.
“Just make an instagram! That boy keeps messaging me about you.” Daniel pleaded.
“I don’t use social media, I tried and I didn’t like it.” What a lie.
“Okay well can you at least talk to him? Wait, I should go with you, he might be the one having a stroke.”
So while Heidi stayed back in the garage, Daniel accompanied Y/n to the Mclaren garage so Lando could finally meet his favorite nepo baby. Y/n started to feel nervous, why? She didn’t know, she hardly knew Lando apart from his instagram posts.
“Hey Landoooooo!” Daniel dragged out the o.
“Is that Daniel Ric—” Lando’s voice stopped when he noticed who was standing beside Daniel.
“Is he having a stroke? I can’t tell.” Daniel whispered to Y/n.
“Hi . . . You’re y/n. Wow.” Lando tried to play it cool. “I’m Lando, but I’m guessing you already knew that because of the giant Australian yelling my name. Thank you Daniel.”
“Glad I could be of service. I have to go get ready, but you two go ahead and talk. Y/n, I’ve been told the Mclaren garage is the best spot to watch a race so . . bye!”
And all thanks to Daniel Ricciardo and his match making skills, your dad, Cillian, didn’t have a stroke when he finally met Lando.
688 notes · View notes
pjflmga · 3 months ago
Text
chicago, alessia russo x reader
Tumblr media
summary: story based on the song chicago by louis tomlinson. angst and no happy ending. stream chicago it’s banger🔥
a/n: english is not my first language and i’m dead tired + wrote it in the middle of the night, so sorry if the grammar and stuff is shit at times🥲 also it’s like my first fic writte so yea:o ig if you have an idea of a story or smth send them in :)
wc: 1,8k ish
enjoyy
——————————————————
alessia was sitting on the coach of her apartment in north london, as she scrolled through instagram… or stalking through your instagram to be precise. your last post being a picture of your now 18 month(🥲) old baby.
“my baby girl olivia is now 18 months old🥹❤️” the caption said.
a tear formed in her eye as she thought of the name. the name that her and you had come up with together, at the age of 13. the name she thought you would name you little baby together. the name that you now used for your own baby, without her.
————
alessia and you had been close friends since middle school, when you both were 9.
it had been a normal school day where alessia sat daydreaming about going professional in the thing she loved the most, football, when the blondes friend lisa came running towards her.
“lessi!!! giorgio and peter are at it again.” she said while breathing out.
“huh?” the young girl answered as her head jerked up.
“they got into some argument and it’s getting heated.” lisa answered as the two began running towards the fight. “i think you can talk him out of it.” she continued.
“GIORGIO!” she yelled.
“PETER!” someone else yelled at the same time.
alessia saw how her brother and the other boy looked towards her and the other voice quickly. at that time teachers had arrived as well and told the boys off. so instead of parenting her older brother, the blonde looked over to the other voice and caught your eyes, as you were looking at her with curiosity.
“wow” she thought to yourself “she has the coolest outfit ever” so like the 9- year old she was, she walked over to you and introduced herself. “hello, my name is alessia, but my friends call me less or lessi and i think your outfit is so cooll!“ she said.
“hi alessia, i’m y/n, my freinds call me y/n/n. ” you answered excitedly. “thank you, your eyes are so, so pretty.” you continued, entirely mesmerised by her blue eyes. “oh and that potato head over there, is my brother peter.”
“the boy who fought with your brother is my big brother gio. he usually is the best, we play football together all the time!” alessia laughed.
“no way? i love football too!” you screamed excitedly. “would you like to play with me sometime?”
and just like that a wonderful friendship blossomed out between alessia and you. years passed and the bond the blonde shared with you, only grew stronger. as the two of you turned 16 she realised she might be feeling something else than normal friendship for you. little did she know, you felt the same about her.
as the weeks past the two of you became a bit more and more bold and flirtier, and then all of a sudden you started dating. both of your families loved the other girl. even your big brothers had become friendly and only bantered up a little now and then, but more as a joke of course.
after a few months, on alessia’s 17th birthday, you officially asked the blonde to be your girlfriend. she answered more than happily with a “yes!”. the other present from you might have been even better though. it was your black nike hoodie, that smelled just like you.
both alessia and you loved football, but it was clear as a day who was actually going for it and who wasn’t, and had it more like a side hobby.
alessia was thriving and was currently playing for chelsea’s academy team as well as playing for england’s youth team. you were more than happy for her and watched as she smashed in goal after goal week in and week out.
alessia was so proud of you who were doing quite good as well, playing for the local team in kent. ruling the midfield and scoring some nice goals yourself. of course, when she didn’t have training or her own games, she was there to watch.
everything between the two of you was just perfect, you went to school, played football and had each other. and that weekly routine worked perfectly well for you.
but as they say, all good comes to an end.
the blonde striker and you had only one month left of school before graduating and you were buzzing. you had told your girlfriend that you weren’t too sure of what to do now. sure, you had applied for some courses at a university in london. but other than that your plan was to chill a bit, playing some football and so on. it was no real rush anyways.
alessia on the other hand, had big plans coming up. the striker had applied for different collages in the usa to be able to play football on a higher level, as well as studying. but these great plans of hers weren’t anything you were aware of.
so graduation came, you were celebrating with your friends from school, as well as had a graduation party with each other that your families had planned. everything was just perfect. a few days later alessia had to leave for camp, and that’s when she thought it was time to break the news to you.
“uh, y/n…” she started as she felt a big lump in her throat. “i uh- i, i have a applied for some collages in the usa for the upcoming years. and i uh, i got accepted for unc in north carolina.” she stuttered out nervously.
“oh.” was all you got out, as she saw tears threatening behind your eyes. “less that is great for you.” you forced out with a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i really am.” the blonde whispered out. “but i just, i just didn’t know how to tell you and then time passed and you kn-“
“i get it alessia.” you said bluntly. alessia frowned a bit at the usage of her full name, instead of one of a nickname she knew you had, on your never ending list.
“but i thought we could make it work anyways. i’d come back when i have breaks, and maybe you could do the same and we call and text each other all the time. i mean we can do that yeah?” she started to ramble.
“i… i have to go.” you said and left, slamming the door in her face a little too hard. with the sound of your steps leaving, alessia broke down on the floor and cried. this was not the way she had thought it’d be.
sad and slow alessia went to camp, as she put on a smile on her face. this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes though. when game day came around, the lionesses were playing in london. the blonde excitedly looked towards the small crowd to see if you were there, like you had planned. but to her disappointment, you weren’t. she saw her mom looking at her with sad smile, confirming what she feared.
after camp, alessia went straight to your house, only to be met by your mom, who didn’t look oh- so happy.
“please let me talk to her, i need to speak to y/n.” the blonde pleaded.
“alessia, she is broken, she doesn’t want to see you right now.” your mom answered with a stern face. “and you know why.” she added quickly.
of course alessia knew all this was her fault, but she also knew this was something she had to do for her career. so when august came around, she packed all her stuff and flew to her new home for the upcoming years.
the two of you hadn’t spoken since before her england camp, despite her texting and calling everyday, with no success of reaching you. as the blonde forward landed in north carolina, she sent yet another text message “i’m in the usa now. i miss you y/n, please call me<3 i know we can work this out”. to her big surprise you this time gave her a short reply “i miss you too, good luck with everything.”
maybe, just maybe this bitter end of yours, would turn around? maybe that could be the case for you two.
—————
the years past and alessia was now in back in england, more specifically in the red side of manchester. she had also gotten her first call up to national team. her time at collage had been an absolute blast, but not one day went without her thinking of you.
thanks to social media, she knew you lived in central london now. she knew you studied at queen mary university to become a journalist, a dream you had had as you grew older. and she knew you had a new life, that didn’t include her.
the years flew by and right out of nowhere alessia was the front face for the lionesses having won the euros, gotten a silver medal in the world cup and was now settled in north london. but still, not a day went by without her thinking of you. not a day went by without her wishing she could tell you about all her adventures and experiences she’d gotten the past years. not a day went by without her wishing to have you in her life. she wondered if you kept up with her life, what you would’ve said and if you were proud of her.
it had been a tough game for arsenal against their blue london rivals, chelsea. the blues had beaten the gooners with a comfortable 3-1 win at stamford bridge. despite the loss, she bid her thank yous to the fans, as well as signing some autographs and taking some photos. just as she was about to walk away into the dressing rooms, she spotted a face she would recognise anywhere. was it you? it couldn’t be? she blinked, and just like that you were gone.
as the striker got home she burst down in tears, putting on the hoodie you once gave her, thinking back to all the times you had been there and comforted her. especially after a loss. you always knew what to say and what to do, to make her feel better.
alessia replayed the day she told you about her heading off to collage over and over again, and thought once again, what she could’ve done differently. so the arsenal player grabbed her phone and typed in your contact, because of course she still had it saved with a red heart next to your name. but she quickly came to her senses and closed her phone. she couldn’t be that selfish.
she knew you were happy and had a baby. she knew that her name was olivia, just like the two of you had planned. what alessia didn’t know was whether after all these years, you had forgiven her or not. because believe her or not, even if it didn’t work out, the years you had together ever since you were 9 years old were the most meaningful and important to her.
but, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.
169 notes · View notes
immortalmrwavell · 3 months ago
Text
Mr Wavell Is Back!!
Getting Terminated, My Brand New Account and How Things Will Be Moving Forwards. If you were a fan of my content please stick around and read what I’ve got to say ❤️
So as some of you may have already noticed, my original account MrWavellSwaps was terminated. This was very recent so a lot of you who followed me on there may not have even noticed yet but you can go see for yourselves. Obviously this was not my choice and was completely out of my control and when I found out I was frustrated to say the least. This account that I’d worked on for over 3 years had just been snatched away from me in a way that I personally feel was unfair. Initially I had been censored back in July this year for posting content that Tumblr believed to be against their guidelines. Or at least their automated bots thought so as what I posted that got me the censor was in a grey area at most. But despite that I tried to do right by correcting and even deleting any and all posts Tumblr had flagged even if I didn’t believe they were against guidelines just to play nice. Following which I appealed my account’s censorship only to be met with silence for months on end. That is until September 3rd where I chased up the appeal for the third time after receiving no response or updates. I was hoping to receive a turnover on the censorship but was expecting them to just say no and keep it censored. But they did the one thing I didn’t except
The email I got the next morning could be summed up like this. “You want a response? Okay. You’re terminated. Goodbye.” And I was. I tried going on Tumblr and my account was gone. Great.
I’ll be honest in the past I would’ve said that if something like this ever happened that I’d just give up with writing these stories and move on. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I think I’ve just grown so fond of this community and writing as a whole that I just don’t really want to leave yet. I’ve met so many friends through being a writer on here and even more than that I met my Boyfriend! I never could’ve expected that writing these silly gay TF stories would change my life in the ways that it has. And that said I think I’d be doing a disservice to just give up and throw it all away.
So here I am. Back again with a fresh new account.
Where am I gonna go from here you may ask. Well of course I have a large catalogue of stories already from the past couple of years and the majority of those stories are actually still floating around Tumblr thanks to all the reblogs. So it’s not like they’re gone forever which I’m glad about. However with my old account gone it feels like they’re all scattered apart. No longer together in one place. And most importantly they no longer feel like mine. Of course I still wrote them all but with this new account I no longer have any control or ownership over those posts and honestly that annoys me. Not to mention with them all coming from my terminated account, there will always be the chance that they’ll just end up getting completely wiped from the platform eventually, reblogs included.
With that said, I’ve made the decision to re-upload each and every single one of my stories to this brand new account. This way I’ll have complete ownership of these new posts. I’ll be able to edit and change them as wish and overall I believe it would just look a whole lot cleaner than if I were to just hunt down reblogs of my old stories to reblog again over here. However I genuinely see that as a positive as not only will it be better for me that way but it can also give all of you a chance to rediscover some of my older works that were perhaps buried under so many other before. And to spice things up I might even update a few of my old stories to add extra scenes and new images to go with them!
On that note I’m gonna be trying to adhere to Tumblr’s guidelines as best I can so I don’t give them any reason to pounce on me again. This means no risqué imagery from now on even if I personally believe it’s within guidelines. My writing style will remain the same however if a story is particularly steamy I may add a community label just to be safe. If you wanna learn more about community labels and how to make sure you’re still able to view labelled posts check out this post. All that said I do have a plan in mind to bring you all versions of my stories that have more explicit imagery but more on that in a moment.
For the next couple of weeks at least I plan on gradually re-uploading all of my content to this blog like I said. I may do one story a day or more than that depending on how I decide to do it. I’ll continue doing this until everything is back up under this new blog. Once all that is done I’m going to try and create a new master list where you can find links to all my posts just like before. And once that’s done I might give myself a breather for a few days and then I’ll see about posting some brand new content. Content of which I’ll be writing up while doing the re-uploads so that it’ll be ready to go once everything is caught back up. After that everything should hopefully be back to normal with my usual schedule of posting new stories and reblogging stories I enjoy!
Now. On top of this I also have plans to create a new blog or website completely outside of Tumblr. One that I can be allowed to do anything that please with and not have to tiptoe around any guidelines. This is where I’ll be uploading alternative versions of all my stories. Some of them may be exactly the same as they were on Tumblr while others may have secret images and gifs that otherwise wouldn’t have been allowed on Tumblr. I haven’t decided on all the specifics yet but once I figure it out I’ll let you all know.
And one last thing before I sign off. Recently I’ve been considering the possibility of turning this hobby of mine into a job. Now don’t worry I’d have absolutely no plans to paywall any of my content. I want everything to remain accessible for free. However I was considering opening up a place for people to leave donations and maybe even kick my Patreon off again. But most importantly I’d be considering opening up commissions. If I were to go down this route I’d likely be able to post much more consistent content for you all and make this my full time focus. It’s just an idea for now and I probably won’t set it into motion until early 2025 if I decide to go through with it but I wanted to at least share it with you all. I was actually just about to post about it on my original account until… you know hahahah.
Well I think I’ve said everything I wanted to say. Please can I ask that if you liked my stories that you please share this and my upcoming re-uploads around and let everyone know that this is my new blog. It would help a ton in getting me back on my feet on I’d really really appreciate it.
Can’t wait to get back on track and continue delivering stories to all you wonderful people out there. I love all of you and I’m so grateful to you all for following my journey so far and I hope you’ll all find me again so we can continue this together! ❤️
- Mr Wavell
Tumblr media
174 notes · View notes
dira333 · 5 months ago
Text
Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game
Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.
Tumblr media
Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...
Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)
Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.
Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....
Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.
Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.
Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.
There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.
I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.
Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join
234 notes · View notes
tcfactory · 1 year ago
Text
As fun as it is when people write the Emperor as someone who has his shit together and functions as An Excellent Specimen of a Mindflayer, this alien mastermind who can act like a mentor for illiThav, I have a fondness for the Emperor as like
this absolute wreck of a person.
Mindflayers are supposed to stay with their colony for like 20+ years to learn All The Things Mindflayer and we know Ansur stole him away long before that (I think he said 12 or 13 years). And then put him through what was meant to be cult deprogramming, but probably was just an unfortunate mixture of torture (mental isolation and I can see a measure of starvation added to it) and instilling every insecurity known to man. Guilting the squid not to act squiddy wasn't very effective on the long run, but it sure must have been traumatizing - might even be the reason why the Emperor made such a decisive cut between his old and new identity. We don't know how long Ansur tried before he gave up, but probably quite a few years, dragon sounded like the stubborn sort.
So we have 1. possibly not fully socialized/introduced to the culture in its fullest and 2. some years of being forced to act as close to his old human personality as possible to placate Ansur. 3. continued social isolation where he only interacts with humanoid races, often indirectly at that.
So I like the idea that as the result of all of that he's not really pretending when we meet him properly, he's Just Like That. Not the part about being on top of things, gods know people wrote stories about how he talked his way out of all sorts of nonsense with pure bullshit, he could probably sell beachfront property in the Hells if he tried. Just, his personality and mannerisms as an ungodly mixture halfway between illithid and human, he's just the weirdest squid. Not human anymore, no, but acting and thinking overall too human compared to other mindflayers and he might not even be fully aware of it because he's been isolated from his kind for the last several hundred years. Even post-Absolute he might not know how weird he is, I somehow can't see the elderbrain reintegrating him into the colony when he's clearly defective. Say thank you to Gortash for being curious about his business rival or the Emperor would be past tense.
Anyway, I really like Weird Squid Emperor and I want to put him in a room with Omeluum so nerd squid can take notes and be amazed at this trashfire of an illithid, I think that would be a cool scene actually.
459 notes · View notes
dnpbeats · 23 days ago
Note
I don’t think “the thing in March” is hard launch related and might just be another project, because Dan said either this scrapped video or touring is something Phil hasn’t done in a long time meaning they wouldn’t have been able to juggle both so im guessing they decided to wait it out
Okay so. At first I had the same thought as you and actually wrote a whole post about how it was gonna be a project and not a hard launch lol. But then I went back and watched the video again and I think it doesn’t necessarily have to be a project (though it could still be!). Dan phrased it a little confusingly (as always 💞) but I do think that when he said “this” was something that Phil hadn’t done in a while, he meant touring. Dan says they had one “idea [they] were gonna do” and then they were like “are we gonna go on tour.” I believe what he says after that is him talking about tour, so when he says it would be crazy, it’s something Phil hasn’t done in a while, etc., that’s all talking about the tour. Then Phil says he doesn’t know what Dan’s talking about, and then dan says “here we are in the timeline where we went on tour, and as for what the hell would’ve happened if dan and phil never did, you’ll find out in March.”
There are a few reasons why I don’t think it’s necessarily a different project:
Whatever got put on hold is something they’re still planning on doing, but phil doesn’t know what dan is talking about. And I just feel like, if it’s a project that they have lined up to announce in march, Phil would remember? Whereas if Dan is referring to coming out, it might not register in his mind immediately as “something that got scrapped”
For whatever reason, they felt like they needed to go on tour before this other thing happened. Let’s say it’s a project, wouldn’t it in some way make more sense to do that first because presumably they’d get even more engagement from it, thereby making their tour less risky? They’ve already talked about how they were surprised TIT tickets sold so fast and how excited ppl were/are for it. Doing a less-risky project beforehand would’ve put them in a better position to go on tour! So it’s really curious that they decided they couldn’t do this thing before the tour, but it needed to wait til after
“What the hell would have happened” is much different than “what would we have done/released” but dan does not always talk with the most precision so this one is loose lol
If dan thinks the reveal will happen only a month after the tour ends, it is either a one time thing or something that takes little prep but is ongoing (hence why it couldn’t be happening in the middle of tour, not able to juggle both like u said)
So anyway those are my thoughts. Like part of me feels like im clowning big time because it’s a tale as old as time to assume d&p are hard launching and then actually they’re doing something else. But it’s undeniable that the energy has been different lately. Plus I have been wrong about so many things in the past (them going on tour and them making full-fledged coming out videos just to name a few 😂) so hey. Maybe it’s time I just say the impossible is gonna happen
(My thoughts if it’s not a hard launch are podcast as others have suggested as it ticks the box for reason #4 I gave. I don’t think it’s a pet adoption (other theory I’ve seen ppl say) as I think it’s related to media (video/audio) in some way. Idk why Dan’s mind would go to dog when he heard “scrapped video”)
guys or maybe it’s amazingdan 3 ❤️ stranger things have happened
63 notes · View notes
the-necromancer-wife · 1 month ago
Text
I've read a lot of theories pointing out that Skully might have grown in an isolated, religious-like community. But I don't think that's the case. Allow me to elaborate:
TW: Spoilers/ long post/ just me analyzing Skully
It's sort of a cliché for Tim Burton films that the main character is a hermit of some sorts. Someone who is not adapted to the society or social conventions and usually lived by themselves or basically under a rock.
A few examples could be: Barnabas Collins in Dark Shadows, Willy Wonka in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (and Charlie himself), Edward Scissorhands, Jack Skellington and of course Vincent Malloy.
So my hypothesis so far:
>Skully is not only based on Jack Skellington's appearance, but also in Tim Burton's characters archetype:
Skully had a hard time adapting to the enviroment he presumably lived in and presented difficulties with bonding and forming relationships with others his age. At first i was inclined to believe he could be on the spectrum (autism or asperger) and I don't really discard that possibility yet, but I don't think his social difficulties are entirely caused by autism. I think he is visibly different from others in opinions and behaviors and that's why he's labeled as "the weird kid". And "the weird kid" is not always autistic.
He is similar to characters like Edward Scissorhands who grew up isolated and was visibly different. As a result of his enviroment, he didn't know how modern society worked and he was misunderstood and rejected.
This is one of the main elements on every Tim Burton movie: a certain someone that had a different childhood or whose life experiences led them to have a different (sometimes excentric) approach that wasn't socially accepted, although they weren't really hurting others.
The psychologist Lev Vygotsky wrote about how important the enviroment and social interactions were for a child. The difficulties Skully presents are common in those who didn't really get to experience those.
If he had grown in a conservative community, he wouldn't have access to any material related to Halloween. Why would they keep those books around? And if the community was in fact centered around Halloween as a celebration, why would they be labeled as conservative? Either he was raised in a conservative household or he harvested those ideas himself by isolating and reading old books. Which makes sense and leads me to my second hypothesis:
>He's partially twisted from the character Vincent Malloy.
I already explained who Vincent Malloy was in another post but basically he was obsessed with Vincent Price (the horror actor), and had a dark and twisted view of the world as a result of this, plus the isolation and the books he read.
Skully could be somehow twisted from Vincent given his obsession with Jack Skellington and his behavior indicates, as I said before, that he wasn't part of the community he grew in, just like Vincent.
Jack Skellington, the pumpking king, is depicted everywhere as the harbinger of horror and fear, even if Jack himself is rather a sensitive individual that wants to do things differently. The whole Nightmare before Christmas plot revolves around that: People having a wrong view about Jack as a result of him being the Halloween representative and Jack carrying a crown that's too heavy for him.
Vincent Malloy also enjoyed the dark and twisted world of horror and fear. But I'll elaborate more im my next point:
>Skully's mannerisms and obvious gaps in common knowledge come as a result of his isolation as well as him (possibly) reading horror books that also helped to form in him a more gloomy representation of Halloween.
Skully's arcaic mannerisms and language could be from books he read. Just like Vincent Malloy enjoyed to read the books of Edgard Allan Poe and ended up introjecting some of the elements depicted in those novels as well as those represented by Vincent Price (for Skully, Jack Skellington)
Also, little Vincent decided to isolate himself because of how much he enjoyed to play with his imagination, leading him ultimately to the development of a maladaptative daydreaming that consumed him. And of course, the disinterest in playing with other kids since they didn't really share his obsession.
If this is the case and Skully was a kid that grew without contact with his immediate community (his choice or not), that would explain all of his troubles socializing at school.
And also his outdated knowledge on many things. Is not that he was born long ago before magic stones were a thing, but more likely HE didn't know magic stones existed. At some point he abandoned his solitude, of course. Maybe when he started school.
>His parents and/or relatives are not really involved that much in his life.
It's kinda obvious by now, but Skully could come from a family that neglected him emotionally or materially. If that's the case, it would explain a lot.
>It would explain his poor dental hygiene, as nobody teach him how to take care of his teeth and lips properly. As the clothes are provided by the book we can't really tell if he was wearing modest or elegant clothing before he entered that place. But why would the book would alter his mouth's appearance? The only obvious answer is that it didn't and Skully doesn't know how to brush his teeth, one of the first things a parent should teach their child to do.
>It would explain why he was isolated for so long. Either he isolated himself or was recluded by his parents. Either way, his parents should have known better than to leave him locked up from the outside world or should have intervened to help him interact with others.
>In the case he had a turbulent relationship with his parents or they were emotionally unavailable, that would explain why he developed his hyperfixation. Looking forward to a historical figure like Jack could be a result of him not feeling identified with neither a mother figure or a father figure. Of course this is a very very flexible statement as this is not always the case.
Anyway, everything I said here could be accurate or not. This are just my considerations given the information i have so far.
100 notes · View notes
farfromstrange · 9 months ago
Text
Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader
PART 2 of The Vault
Tumblr media
See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.
Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese
Word Count: 4.3k
A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!
Tumblr media
You are not made for white-veil occasions. 
While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.
When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you. 
You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc. 
She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.
You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on. 
You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.
Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips. 
Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders. 
She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it. 
“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly. 
“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”
With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?” 
Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”
You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing. 
When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with. 
Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you. 
Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—
“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen. 
Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim. 
He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself. 
Fuck. Me. 
You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right. 
“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning. 
He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.
Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.
Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”
“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.
His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.
This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin. 
You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.
And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.
Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”
“Here in New York?”
“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”
“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”
His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.
Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set. 
“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”
“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts. 
“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”
She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”
There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.
To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.
“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.
“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.
His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.
Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”
Words elude you. 
“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him. 
You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”
That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?
Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.
Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”
A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.
Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her. 
“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”
“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.
You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.
“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath. 
“Shots have been fired,” he says.
“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”
“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”
Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.
“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”
This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.
He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”
He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.
Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.
Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants. 
An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.
You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company. 
Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?
You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic. 
He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.
After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin. 
At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.
“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.
You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”
“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked.”
Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”
You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”
“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”
“More like life in general.”
“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”
A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.
“And you’re not?”
He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for. 
“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper. 
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.
Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.” 
The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—
He did.
He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.
You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.
“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.
He frowns. “Do what?”
“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”
A playful smirk plays on his lips.  
“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.
You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.
“That’s also been known to happen.”
“What, being cheeky with—”
“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.
You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”
“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”
With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say. 
Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”
“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”
“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”
“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”
“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.
The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”
“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.
The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt. 
Fuck this.
“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”
One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know. 
Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway. 
His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you. 
His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts. 
You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?” 
You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features. 
Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.
You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss. 
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”
He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.
Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him. 
He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.
You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him. 
You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care. 
Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit. 
“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.
He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth. 
His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.
“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.
The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds. 
You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop. 
His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.
“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”
You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say. 
He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”
“Yes. Fuck.”
“Regret coming home with me?”
“Absolutely not.”
That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”
And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise. 
Tumblr media
Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama
257 notes · View notes
helloalycia · 9 months ago
Text
𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑
Tumblr media
two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad
summary: the usual story of a girl falling for a girl who eventually becomes her brother's girlfriend. What could go wrong?
warning/s: none.
author's note: here’s another jackie one i wrote a while ago as i’m trying to post some stuff i’ve already written whilst working on a bunch of other stuff lol, this one was super fun to write so i hope you enjoy it!
also i googled what grades and ages are in america but it well confused me so sorry if it's wrong lol
y/b/n = your band’s name and y/bf/n = your best friend's name
Tumblr media
5 years old.
"You're gonna love it, Y/N, I just know it," my brother, Jeff, was encouraging me as he walked by my side, holding my hand.
I smiled nervously, looking up at him and immediately being put at ease. It was my first day of kindergarten and I'd been super nervous the last few weeks, wondering what it would be like. Jeff was a year older than me, so it was his first day of first grade but he never seemed scared about these things. I wanted to be just like that.
"Okay, my darlings, this is where I leave you," our mum said, stopping by the front gates. She kneeled down to hug us both, adding, "I love you so much. Have the best first day. Okay? And Y/N, if you're worried, your brother is here for you, alright?"
I nodded, squeezing her tightly, before letting go. Jeff gave me a smile before leading me through the gates.
"You're gonna go that way, over there," he told me, pointing to the line forming by the front of the school. "Just look out for me over here, okay?"
"Thanks, Jeff," I said, hugging his side briefly before making my way to the queue that was forming. Other kids like me, nervously awaiting their first day.
After the teacher greeted me and led me to the queue, I waited patiently for the rest of the class to settle down and glanced over to the other queue across the playground, where Jeff was. He was surrounded by his friends, all grinning as they reunited, and I recognised a few of them from play dates at home. My eyes scanned the line he was in, glancing between the other students. And that's when I saw her.
At the time, I didn't know her name. I soon discovered it was Jackie Taylor. But I didn't care at that moment because all I was focused on was how pretty she looked, laughing with some other girls. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two ponytails, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement, even all the way across the playground. I didn't know what liking somebody was that young, I just knew that the butterflies in my stomach and my inability to look anywhere but at her wasn't normal.
I suppose that was where my crush on Jackie Taylor began.
14 years old.
"Y/N, I need your advice."
I looked up from the book I was reading to see Jeff hanging by the doorway of my room. He was unusually sheepish, making me lower my book and raise an eyebrow.
"What's up?" I asked, making space for him on my bed.
He let himself in my room, jumping on top of the bed and crossing his legs. "So... you're a girl, right?"
I tried not to laugh. "Last time I checked."
He was nervous. "Sorry, I know, I just meant– you know how girls think. And I... I think I like a girl. At school. And I wanted your opinion."
Intrigued, I said, "Which girl? What's she like?"
"I think you might know her," he said. "Or at least have seen her around. Y'know Jackie Taylor in my grade? Blonde hair, about your height, really hot?"
At the mention of Jackie, a girl I'd been crushing on since I first set eyes on her, my smile faded slightly. I'd seen her around a lot at school, since she was only in the grade above, and though I'd never spoken to her, it was easy for me to get stuck in admiration from afar. Of course I knew I had zero chances with her, but now knowing Jeff liked her too was like the world's way of confirming that my fantasy of being with Jackie Taylor was just that, a fantasy.
"Oh, yeah, Jackie Taylor," I said after a moment, hiding my surprise. "She's pretty."
"She is," he agreed with a smile that was reminiscent of my own whenever I saw her. "I think she might be interested in me too. Randy said her friend Shauna was asking about me."
"Well, that's gotta be a good sign," I said with a slight smile, trying to ignore the pit of despair and focus on being happy for my brother. "What's the problem then?"
He sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure whether I should ask her out or play the long game a little. What d'you think?"
I scratched my head to buy some time as I thought. "Erm... well, from a girl's perspective, I wouldn't want someone to mess around for too long if they liked me. And Jackie seems like quite the catch. If you don't make your move, somebody else might."
He nodded, actually paying attention to me surprisingly. "You're right, you're right... I should ask her out before someone else does."
"Exactly," I agreed.
He thought about it for a moment before beginning to smile. "You're so right, Y/N. Thank you!"
Before I could react, he hugged me quickly, and that was when I knew that no matter what feelings I thought I had for Jackie Taylor, it didn't matter anymore. She was off limits.
Of course, when I wished it would just end there, it didn't. Turns out Jeff was terrible at making the first move, or at least finding the opportunity to. So much that when he begged me to try out for the soccer team a few days later, claiming he needed a reason to talk to her, I had no choice but to oblige. I loved my brother and I knew he'd do the same for me, so I pushed my own feelings aside and did what I could to help. No matter how humiliating it would be.
Soccer was not my forte. Music was my thing. I played the guitar and piano, putting my time into that as an extracurricular, not sports. So, when I showed up for soccer tryouts after school, Jeff by my side for 'support', I was a nervous wreck.
"Jeff Sadecki," Jackie said when we approached her, a flirty smile on her lips. And then her eyes fell to me. "And you must be Y/N, his sister. Nice to meet you."
I smiled awkwardly, realising just how badly I was crushing when I heard her speak. She knew who I was?
"Take it easy on my sister, yeah?" Jeff said playfully, wrapping an arm around me, to which I shoved him off instantly.
"Oh, I'm sure she can handle whatever I throw her way," she retorted, before glancing at me kindly. "Right, Y/N?"
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I mumbled, already dreading tryouts.
She must have thought I was kidding as she laughed. "You head over there to stretch. I'll be right over."
I obeyed, relieved to be away from the flirty glances her and my brother were exchanging that were making me nauseous.
After stretching and hoping I wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing, I glanced over at Jackie and Jeff, seeing her twirling her hair as she spoke to him. He was ecstatic, and I wanted to die. Finally, he went to sit in the bleachers to watch, and Jackie joined us soon enough.
"Okay, ladies, soccer tryouts start now!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, clapping her hands together. "Hope you're all ready to show the Yellowjackets your worth!"
I groaned inwardly at her enthusiasm.
Tryouts was the worst thing I'd ever endured. Between drills, shooting and scrimmage, I was breathless after an hour. How the hell did people play soccer for fun? It was exhausting! The only thing that made this a little worth the hassle was having a front row view of Jackie, who was admittedly drool-worthy in her soccer uniform. Even when she was yelling orders, I still found myself distracted and unable to focus on an already boring sport.
It was especially embarrassing when I was attempting to practice taking goals and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to land a shot. Some of the other girls who were trying out were laughing at me, I could hear them, and even some of the Yellowjackets team were mumbling between each other, no doubt about how terrible I was. Everything we'd done until now, I'd failed. But this was just the cherry on top.
Whether it was because I was Jeff's little sister, or because she genuinely pitied me – possibly both – Jackie tried to help out.
"Kick with the side of your foot," she said, as I lined up another shot. "Don't overthink it. Just aim and kick!"
Wanting this to just be over already, I tried to do as she said and took the shot. Naturally, the ball went completely past the net, and the goalkeeper, Van, didn't have to move a muscle as she watched it roll away. Face flaming with embarrassment, I shook my head.
"It's okay, maybe shooting isn't your strength!" Jackie tried to reassure.
We both knew none of this was my strength, but I said nothing as I rejoined the line and let the next girl go.
If that wasn't awful enough, the last part of tryouts approached and I soon found myself playing in a scrimmage as a midfielder, trying my best to keep up with the game and not make a further fool of myself. Luck didn't seem to be with me, as when someone shouted my name and I prepared myself to catch the ball at my feet, I didn't step back quickly enough and it hit me right in the face, sending a burst of pain up my nose and me on my arse.
Horrified as people began to rush up to me to check if I was okay, I tried to assure them I was fine, but it was looking more and more unbelievable as blood ran from my nose. 
"Guys, give her some space!" Jackie said, before making her way through the crowd to check on me. Worriedly, she grabbed my face and inspected my nose. "Fuck... C'mon. I should get you to the nurse's office."
"Oh my god, Y/N...," Jeff appeared, slowing down when he saw the state of me. He clearly found it amusing as he stifled a smile. "Are you okay?"
I glared at him as Jackie helped me stand up.
Both her and Jeff led me to the nurse's office, though their attention was more on each other than it was on me. I tried not to sulk about it as I went to get seen to and watched them flirt outside the door, clearly getting what they wanted. I'd made a fool of myself in front of Jackie for sure, but it didn't matter because Jeff seemed happy enough, and I guess that was all that mattered.
After that awful day, it was safe to say I didn't make the team, not that that was the aim. But Jeff did finally ask Jackie out, and after a few more dates, they became official. Their relationship was sweet, and Jackie was exceptionally polite to me, but that was because she saw me as her boyfriend's little sister and nothing more.
I knew it was for the best and hoped it would help me get over my crush on her, but it really didn't.
Shortly after they started dating, it was clear that I had my responsibilities as the boyfriend's little sister. Jackie approached me one day at school, where I was chatting with some of my friends by my locker. Because of how smart and pretty and kind Jackie was, she was pretty well known in my grade also, and it was always seen as cool to know someone in the grade above. So, when she found me, my friends immediately fell silent, amazed at the fact I was talking to a tenth grader.
"Hey Jackie, what's up?" I asked, wondering what she needed.
She flashed a picture perfect smile to my friends, who were either drooling over her or stunned into silence, then looked back to me. "I wanted to ask if you were coming to the game later?"
"Game?" I asked with confusion.
"My soccer match," she clarified.
"Oh, er...," I started, but wasn't really sure what to say because I didn't know I needed to, or that she'd want me there. "I think Jeff is?"
"I know that, silly," she laughed, making my heart skip a beat annoyingly enough, "but I wanted you to come too! Thought it could be fun and I could use the support."
Feeling like I had no choice, I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."
She grinned. "Awesome!" Then she glanced at my friends saying, "You guys should come too. The more, the merrier."
They nodded awkwardly, and she smiled at me once more before leaving. And that was how I got roped into attending the Yellowjackets' soccer games, as someone who had zero interest in soccer.
Maybe it was because she was dating my brother that she felt she needed to spend time with me, I wasn't sure. But for whatever reason, Jackie tried her best to chat with me whenever she was around, or hang out with me a little.
The first time she tried was after school, when she was hanging out with Jeff at our house. I was in my room doing some homework when there was a knock at my door, and after letting whoever it was in, Jackie appeared.
"Oh," I said, surprised. "Hey, Jackie."
"Hey," she said with a smile, before letting herself in and looking around. "Cool room."
I glanced around, as if to see what she was seeing. It was nothing special, just some posters blu-tacked on the walls, mismatched bedsheets on my bed and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Still, I smiled a little, acknowledging her comment.
"So, what're you doing?" she asked, sitting at the edge of my bed, before her eyes fell to the keyboard and guitar on the side. "Oh, that's cool! You play?"
I watched as she got up to take a closer look, though clearly not familiar with the instruments as she was reluctant to touch anything. "Yeah, I took lessons as a kid and it kinda became my favourite thing."
"Leave it to Jeff to not tell me how cool his little sister is," she mumbled with amusement, and it stung just a little, the reminder of how she saw me. Glancing at me hopefully, she asked, "Can you play something for me?"
"I actually have homework to do," I said apologetically, but also glad for the out, because she didn't need to know that most of the stuff I'd composed was inspired by her.
"Oh, right, yeah, duh," she said with a laugh, before approaching my desk and hovering above me, making me forgot how to breathe. "What you working on? English?"
All I could do was nod.
"Need a hand?" she asked helpfully. "I already did this and I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."
"Oh, I think I've got it–" I tried to stop her, but she was already grabbing the seat to my keyboard and pulling it next to me.
"I don't mind, honest," she said sweetly, before grabbing my book and taking a look.
With no choice but to accept her help, I let her. And that was when I realised she was just trying to be nice to me, and I kind of had to accept.
She'd do that occasionally, or greet me in school when she didn't need to, and I thought that getting to know her like this might help eradicate my crush on her, since it was based on a fantasy of what I thought I knew about her. Unfortunately, it only made me like her more because I got to know her as more than the fantasy in my head, and it turned out that the real Jackie Taylor was still worth crushing on.
It was about a month into hers and Jeff's relationship when they broke up. I wasn't sure how or why, just that one day Jeff came back from a date looking annoyed and told me in a firm statement that he and Jackie were over. I wasn't sure what to think, nor how it really affected me other than I'd lost out on a somewhat decent relationship with Jackie. It was even more awkward when I realised Jackie had promised to tutor me for an upcoming English test and I wasn't sure if she'd even talk to me, or if I was supposed to talk to her.
The following Monday after their break up, I saw Jackie around at school but didn't know whether I could speak to her or not. But then she came to me at my locker, as if nothing was wrong.
"Hey, you still free after school for that tutoring?" she asked with her usual friendly smile.
"I... yes?" I answered, though it was more of a question because of how confused I was.
"Okay," she laughed, "why do you seem so puzzled?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, did you think I was gonna bail because Jeff and I broke up?"
I pursed my lips uncomfortably. "Yes?"
She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not. What happened between Jeff and I is separate to us, Y/N. I mean, he's definitely a jerk, but that doesn't make you one."
I smiled awkwardly, unsure what exactly he'd done to be deemed a 'jerk' but also not caring enough to ask.
"Meet you in the library after school?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Surprised but also appreciative that she was still willing to tutor me, I nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, Jackie. Thanks."
She flashed me a smile before leaving.
Tutoring happened as planned and I aced my test the day after. But then the day after that, Jackie and Jeff were suddenly back together like nothing had happened, and once she told me it was a mistake upon seeing my confusion, I soon realised they had one of those relationships. They'd break up over stupid stuff but ultimately get back together, and as exhausting as it was to witness, I knew it wasn't my business.
15 years old.
I sat and ate my dinner as my parents chatted Jackie's ear off about soccer and her studies. She was over for the evening as Jeff's date, courtesy of my parents, a somewhat regular occurrence lately. And I didn't mind, but it was getting a little tiring listening to the same thing all the time. Though, I regretted thinking that as soon as the conversation turned to me.
"...yes, she's started a band with her friends," my mum was telling Jackie. "They're playing the school dance next week."
Jackie immediately looked to me with amazement. "Wait, you're Y/B/N? You and your friends?"
I grew embarrassed as everyone looked at me. It was true that some of my friends and I had started a band, mainly because we were bored and needed an outlet from school, but also because it was something fun to do on the side. It wasn't a secret, but it was the last thing I wanted to discuss at dinner.
"Yeah, it's just something new," I said dismissively.
"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N, you guys are great," Jeff said encouragingly, and I smiled gratefully at him. As far as older brothers went, he was pretty good.
"I cannot wait to see you perform," Jackie said with an excited smile. "It's gonna be so cool."
"Let's hope so," I said lightheartedly.
"She's a little nervous, since it's their first live performance," my mum decided to embarrass me further, making me avoid everyone's eyes. "It'll be lovely to have support already in the crowd."
"Oh, of course!" Jackie continued brightly. "The team and I are gonna be there for you, Y/N. And if you want, I can help you get ready for the dance beforehand, I don't mind."
"Oh, no, you don't need to–"
"That's very generous of you, Jackie!" my mum exclaimed, cutting me off. "Thank you!"
Jackie grinned, eyes flickering to mine as I wished to be swallowed up by the ground there and then. Jackie Taylor helping me get ready for a school dance? No, thanks.
But due to my mum's insistence, that was how I found myself sat on my bed a week later, with Jackie doing my makeup.
"Your shirt is what colour again?" she asked as she scanned the eyeshadow palette in her hand.
"Black, but the skirt is blue," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping she couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest.
I wasn't handling the whole having my crush inches away from my face thing very well, and I was certainly having a hard time hiding it.
"Okay, great, I have the perfect idea," she said with a grin, before coating her brush in a colour and leaning forward again. "Close your eyes for me?"
Relieved I wouldn't have to look at her, I closed my eyes and let her apply my eye makeup, trying not to focus on the warmth emanating from her or the way the pad of her finger would gently rub at my skin or the caress of her breath as she exhaled. Nope, not focusing on any of it.
"So, any boys caught your eye that you're gonna dance with tonight?" she asked as she worked.
"Erm, not really, no," I mumbled.
She paused, and I almost opened my eyes to see why, but then she said, "Any girls? Because that's okay, too."
My cheeks were hot and I was relieved my eyes were closed otherwise she would've seen, truly, how flustered I was.
"No," I finally answered, clearing my throat. "I mean, it's okay, but no."
Did I just come out? Probably. But it wasn't a secret, and Jackie didn't seem to care.
"That's okay, just wait until they all see you perform," she said supportively. "Girls are suckers for musicians."
Yeah, but not the girl I wanted.
"Speaking of performing, is it gonna be originals or covers?"
"Covers for now," I answered, glad we were discussing something I was comfortable with. "The originals aren't ready for performing just yet."
"Ooh, so there are originals," she said in a playful tone. "Did you write any?"
"Some, yeah."
"Okay, eye makeup is done," she said quickly, and I opened my eyes to see her searching for a lipstick, but she continued talking, "And do I get to hear any of these originals?"
"Not yet," I quipped with a nervous smile, and I secretly hoped she'd never ask again because they were all about her.
She pouted playfully and I was forced to look away, a tornado twisting in my stomach because of how cute she looked.
After a moment, she lifted a dark red colour in the air with enthusiasm. "This is the one."
I assumed she'd give it me to put on, but she instantly uncapped the lipstick before leaning close again, grabbing my chin softly and painting my lips red. I was paralysed at the contact, my eyes flickering between hers. They looked greener than usual because of her green shirt, and then I started focusing on the space behind her head, realising I was staring.
"I think this is my best work yet," she said with pride, letting go and looking at me way more than I preferred. "You're really nervous, aren't you? Don't worry, you're gonna be great, Y/N."
Yeah, not nervous for what she thought... but I'd take it.
"Okay, get ready so I can see the final look," she feigned impatience, smacking me with her hands.
"Okay, okay, geez, Jackie." I got up as she laughed, and grabbed my clothes from the hangar.
I changed behind my wardrobe door, physically incapable of changing in front of her. When I stepped out, hair and makeup fully done, I glanced in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw, not really doubting Jackie's abilities. I turned to show Jackie, who stood up from the bed and looked me up and down, leaving me nervous all over again.
"You. Look. Beautiful," she said with a kind smile, approaching me and fixing my hair from the front.
"Thanks, Jackie," I said, both flustered and with appreciation.
Her eyes continued to take in my whole appearance, making me avoid meeting her gaze as I distracted myself with pulling on my shoes.
"So, are you not getting ready?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, Jeff said he'd drop me back off to mine so I can get ready with Shauna," she said. "Just wanted to make sure you were good to go first."
"Well, thanks, I appreciate it."
Once my shoes were on, I grabbed my jacket and opened my bedroom door, holding it open for her. Walking her downstairs, we stopped by the front door and Jeff and her left for her place whilst my mum dropped me off to the school early so the band and I could get ready.
The school gym was already decorated for the dance, the stage set up with our instruments. I found my friends backstage and smiled at how coordinated we all looked with our outfits.
The band was made up of myself on the guitar and keyboard, Y/BF/N on the drums, Tommy on vocals and guitar and Aaron on bass. We'd all been friends since kindergarten and grew closer in Music class, and they were a tight knit group that I couldn't imagine being without.
We'd practiced a lot since officially forming about a month ago, so I wasn't doubting our ability to sound good, but the dance was our first proper live performance and it was still a little nerve wracking.
"Okay, guys, this is it," Tommy said as we all got ready for the curtains to open. "Not a big deal, but also could be the difference between high school suicide and surviving the next three years."
"No pressure, in other words," Y/BF/N said sarcastically, making Aaron and I laugh.
"We've got this," I assured them all. "Good luck, gang."
They all returned it before we got into our positions and waited for the principal to announce us. I clutched my guitar pick and took a deep breath once I heard our name, then the curtains opened revealing the sports hall full of students, including Jeff, Jackie and all of her teammates.
They all smiled supportively, and I admittedly let my gaze linger on Jackie for a second longer than I should have. I couldn't help it – she looked so pretty in her purple satin dress, enough that I almost missed my cue to play because of how distracted I was.
We performed a few covers smoothly, making no mistakes and eventually falling into our usual rhythm, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a set, the DJ took over and we all left our instruments onstage before leaving to have a break.
"I can't believe we just did that," Y/BF/N said with amazement.
"Neither can I," Tommy agreed with a laugh before pulling us all into a group hug.
After having the ultimate debrief of our performance, still in disbelief and on a high from it all, we went our separate ways to catch up with others, and Jeff and Jackie found me immediately.
"Y/N, that was awesome!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw me, before pulling me in for a hug. "You were amazing up there!"'
I chuckled, blushing. "Thanks, Jeff. You think everyone liked it? Like actually?"
"Of course they did!" he said like I was stupid. "Y'know how cool you are now?"
"Hey, she was always cool," Jackie said, smacking him playfully before shooting me a smile that made me weak in the knees; she was even prettier up close. "Y/N, you were amazing up there. Real badass. The team thought so too."
"Thanks, Jackie," I said with a nod, heart racing just a little more than usual.
"You're not on a for a while now, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and all it took was for me to shake my head before she grabbed my hand and led me to the dancefloor with Jeff. "Good, you can dance with us!"
"Oh, I don't know–"
"Let loose, Y/N," she insisted with a grin, before dragging me to where her teammates were.
And as soon as they saw me, they showered me in compliments and I was flustered the whole time, not used to the attention. It was kind of Jackie to have them cheer me on, but it was also just another reminder that they all saw me as Jeff's little sister. Still, I tried to focus on how great the night had been and let myself enjoy it.
234 notes · View notes
spid3namy · 1 year ago
Text
— AUGUST
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing : e!42 miles x mixed!female reader
summary : rumors spread like wildfire around school, everyone knew everyone's business. who knew the only rumor about you and your boyfriend would be true...?
contains : angst, cheating, song inspired (obviously), they are mid to late teens, miles lowkey stupid asf, implied lying (kind of), might have some incorrect spanish, cussing, not proof read
divider creds : saradika
word count : 2031
notes : lowkey, i only wrote this cus i literally love this song and figured why not write angst. this is my way of being productive while also being lazy asf LMAO. i probably might start a taglist for people who wanna be tagged when i post new things but we’ll see. anyways, i hope you enjoy the story <3
Tumblr media
“Will you call when you're back at school...?”
Summer vacation.
For some, it was a great way to get away from school. To hang out with friends, to spend time with family. Others, it was nothing but a cruel and long three and a half months. 
For you, it was supposed to be a great three and a half months!
Until you found out that you were being shipped away to your grandparents house to spend time with them. Sure, you loved your grandparents but they were just.. so old. Summer was supposed to be the time when you hung out with your best friends!
And most importantly, your boyfriend! But no. 
Before you knew it, you had been packed up and sent on a flight all the way up to the shitty state of Washington. And that’s cruelly how you spent your summer vacation. Being around old people for a long three and a half months literally sucked.
September 18.
The day school started was a nightmare.
Rumors spread around like wild-fire at Visions Academy. Well, you knew that much. Especially with all the rumors that happened last year about the girl that had gotten pregnant. Of course, that rumor had been a lie. But everyone knew about it in the spam of like 20 minutes.
“Y/N! Have you heard yet?”
Your best friend, Juno, is the first one to come up to you the moment you walk through the doors. She was always so pretty when she came to school. If you all didn’t have to wear uniforms, she’d probably be the hottest girl in school with those fire ass fits you knew she owned.
“Heard what exactly?”
“Okay, so I’m guessing you haven’t heard then.”
You look at the girl and raise an eyebrow, brushing your braids behind your shoulder to flow down your back. What the hell was she on about now? Juno was your best friend, yes, but she was too into the gossip the school had going on. Most times, you couldn’t even believe the words she said. 
“Well, are ya gonna tell me?”
Juno stared at you for a few moments before she shrugged, figuring that if you really wanted to know then she would tell you. Even if she knew it was gonna hurt you, it was best if you found out from her and not some random stranger who probably would tell it in the worst way possible.
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
“Uh.. okay? I promise.”
Juno let out a breath and gripped the strap of her tote bag tightly before she spoke in a mess of jumbled up words. “Okay so basically, I heard from Dorothea who heard it from Suki who heard it from Rose who heard it from Verity who heard it from Betty who heard it from Venus, herself, that she and Miles had a little fling over the summer.”
You blink as you watch Juno suck in a huge intake of air. She was acting as though she had been waiting a long time to gain some type of air in her lungs. 
You soon burst out into laughter and shook your head, holding your stomach as you laughed. Juno watched you with confusion clear on your face; she clearly didn’t understand what the hell was funny. 
Once you had slowly started to calm down, you wiped an imaginary tear from your eye and shook your head, looking at the female. 
“Whew, thanks Jun, I really needed a laugh today.”
“I’m being serious, Y/N. I totally think it’s true too!”
“That’s ridiculous, Miles would never do anything like that. Me and he are locked in.”
Juno stares at you before she shrugged; the two of you started your descent down the hallway to where your shared first class was. 
“‘M just sayin’ what I heard. Only Miles would really know what happened. Just hope he doesn’t lie to you.”
You snort and roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your shoulder and looking over at her. “He would never lie to me.”
“Whatever you say, Y/N. But just remember: men ain’t shit”
“Tha.. thank you for that, Juno. But you’re not really the greatest person to say that. Especially since you’re biased as hell.”
“What? I am not biased!” 
“Yes you are”
Juno rolled her eyes as the two of you walked into the classroom. Anatomy, the board read.
Great, seeing bodies and stuff at 8 in the morning was gonna be so fun. And it was a block class. How fun.
Lunch. Possibly the only good thing about being at this stupid school. You and Juno stand in line together, looking at all the options of food you can pick out. It’s not much. Pizza, nachos, salads, and hot dogs. Barf. 
You let out a sigh and grabbed a plate that had a pretty decent sized slice of pizza. Juno looks over at you and makes a face before she reaches over to grab a salad. The two of you quickly scan your school ids to pay for the food before you walk over to a table where Miles had been sitting. He had been there alone for a while now. 
He was fortunate enough to have his own food.
Juno sits in front of you two before she nudges her head over to the male who was too busy drawing in his stupid sketchbook to even notice that you were even there. You give a look before you sit down next to your boyfriend, peering over his shoulder a little to see what he was doing.
“Whatcha drawin’?”
“You.”
The answer was so flat, so blunt. It caused your cheeks to heat up when you realized that he was, in fact, drawing you. Miles had always been so good at drawing. It was one of his many talents. 
“You two make me sick.”
“You’re just jealous, Jun. It’s not our fault that your mystery girl doesn’t know you exist.”
Juno lets out a dramatic cry and puts her head down when you mention the girl she had a crush on since 8th grade. It was a little cute that she’s liked her for so long. Yet, she has never even attempted to make a move on her.
“I just wish Leni would notice me.”
“Just talk to her, it ain’t that hard.” That earned Miles a glare despite the fact that he didn’t even really see it. Not like he really cared. He was just speaking the truth.
“Not everyone is brave enough for that, Miles.”
“Jus’ quit being a fuckin’ pussy and talk to her.”
Juno glared at him more and started to stand up. You shake your head quickly to get her to sit down. You already knew where this was headed and you really didn’t want the two of them to get into a huge argument. Not again. Not this school year.
Juno lets out a noise of frustration before she sits back down, her hand gripping the fork in her hands tightly. 
“At least, I didn’t cheat on my girlfriend.”
That seemed to gain his attention. Miles looked up from his sketchbook and quickly put his pencil down, looking at her with a look that could only be described as anger.
“Where the hell did you hear that from?”
“Miles..”
“Callarse la boca”
You look offended by his words but you don’t have time to dwell on it before Miles speaks again, his voice clear with annoyance.
“Where did you hear that from, Juno? Huh?!”
“Dorothea told me.”
Miles takes a deep breath at that, his nostrils flaring slightly as he lets out a deep and heavy exhale. He was screwed because now you knew about it. And he knew how you were going to act now that you knew. 
“Why are you gettin’ so upset, babe? It’s not like it’s true, right?”
Miles looks over at you and sighs, his shoulders tensing up as he clears his throat awkwardly. Guess it was time to be honest now. 
“Mi vida, listen... it-”
You blink and stare at you, anger slowly starting to fill up your body. You don’t even let him get another word out before you raise your hand and slap him. The feeling caused his face to sting, his face turned to the side from the impact. He lets out a slow breath and nods to himself; he knew he deserved it. 
“Fuck you, Morales.”
And with those harsh words spat, you get up and walk away from him. Juno and Miles both watch as you leave before Juno looks over at him, shaking her head and letting out a sigh.
“You fucked up man.”
“No, really? Thanks for the news flash, sherlock.”
“Don’t get smart with me, boy.”
Miles glares at the girl as she gets up and goes after you. God, he was so fucking stupid!
It’s been a week since you last spoke to Miles. You have been avoiding him at school and even went as far as changing seats in the classes you shared with him. You did everything in your power to try and be as far away from him as possible. Miles didn’t seem to let that affect him.
Even if you were far away from him, he would still do his very hardest to talk to you. To explain what happened between him and Venus over the summer. But of course, you didn’t listen. Couldn’t listen to a word he said. It would be nothing but a lie.
Juno was right; men ain’t shit.
It was almost sickening to think that your once loyal and sweet boyfriend would turn out to be a dirty, rotten cheater! And to think it only took one summer for him to change. That was so fucked up man. You hated how easily you had allowed yourself to be betrayed. 
How could someone be so sweet one minute then betray you the first chance they got? It really made no sense to you. 
A knock on your bedroom door was enough to pull yourself from your thoughts. Your head snapped up just as the door opened to reveal Juno, a sheepish smile on her face as she practically jumped on you.
“What are you doin’ here, Jun?”
“I was summoned by your father.”
You let out a snort and roll your eyes, moving over slightly to give her more room to sit on the bed. It was sweet how she wanted to comfort you but you already knew it wasn’t going to work. You were too hurt to ever feel better after just a few visits but you appreciate the effort.
“Should I beat his ass?”
“No.. it’s fine, Jun. I don’t really care, ya know? I already got over it!”
“Mhm. and is that why you’re still avoiding him?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Juno lets out a chuckle and moves closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder gently and pulling you closer for a side hug. It was the best thing she could think of doing right now. 
“Ya know.. He’s stupid for doing that to you. He don’t know what he’s missing.”
And that did it. Before you knew it, you had burst out into tears. Juno rubbed the side of your arm gently and allowed you to cry on her shoulder, soaking her shirt with your tears. She knew you probably needed this right now.
“I fuckin’ hate him, Jun.”
“I know, Y/N.”
“I wish I never met him!”
“I know, Y/N”
The two of you stay like that for an hour. Maybe longer. Who knew? It didn’t matter anyway. Juno was too busy trying to comfort you while you bawled your eyes out. It hurt so fucking much. 
All the trust that you had put into Miles was now gone. 
And it was all his fault. 
Seeing him everyday at school hurt worse than any pain imaginable. But at least you had Juno by your side, you knew she would never hurt you. She was your best friend. She was different than him.
You wish you had never fallen in love with Miles Morales.
298 notes · View notes