#so I can only use my phone’s photo editor

[awakefor48hours]

[vivwritesfics]

Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter Two

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

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Series Masterlist

"Have you saved your work yet?"

Carlos knew better than anyone how hard she was working. Between writing her next book, using social media to market, and answering emails from her editor, she as flat out. He was incredibly worried about her.

She looked up at him for just a second before saving her work. The moment she did, Carlos pushed the lid of her laptop closed. "Carlos!" She cried. She went to open the laptop again, but Carlos pulled it from the table.

"One hour, mi amor. Give me on hour, and then I've give you your laptop back."

She thought on it. "You promise just an hour?"

"I promise," he said as he stepped towards her, the laptop against his chest. "We can go and get coffee together." He leaned down and pecked her lips.

She pouted as he pulled away. "You're too good to me."

"Because I just love you so much," he said and kissed her again.

***

The story of Carlos Sainz's relationship with Rebecca Donaldson broke in the early hours of the next morning. Neither of them were aware.

Carlos didn't check his phone when he woke up. He went on a run in the early hours of the morning and spent a few hours working out, like he did every day, all while she slept.

When he got back, she was still sleeping. Carlos made two coffees and brought them to the bedroom. Placing them down onto their bedside tables, Carlos leaned over and kissed his head. "Wake up, mi corazón," he said softly.

She stirred awake and glared at her husband. "It's so early," she groaned, pressing her face further into the pillow.

His laugh echoed around their bedroom. "It's not that early, my love. I got you coffee, drink up."

They had just a few hours together before she was having an online meeting with her publishers in her office and Carlos was meeting with the team at Ferrari.

He opened his laptop and logged into the call. He was rarely in a bad mood these days, the team at Ferrari noted. It was a surprise to all of them, especially after the story they had sold to the media that morning. "Carlos, I'm sure you've heard the news."

The smile dropped from Carlos's face, replaced by a frown. "What news?" He asked. He hadn't yet been on any social media, had seen none of the news articles flash up on his phone.

"We made a decision here at Maranello, one we felt would benefit the entire team," somebody else said. "After some recent events, all of which were out of our control, we thought it best to give the media something more digestible. To do so, it was leaked to the press that you were potentially romantically linked to Rebecca Donaldson, the Scottish Model."

All expression dropped from Carlos's face. He turned on his phone and, for the first time, saw the news. The news about him.

The photo of himself with Rebecca Donaldson wasn't obviously photoshopped, but there was no other explanation. There he was, in a picture with a woman he had never met.

"See, the things is, Carlos, what else are we supposed to do? Do you want Ferrari to crumble?"

No, obviously he didn't want that. "But what about the relationships of mine this does affect?" He asked quickly, pulling open his desk drawer and pulling out the ring box. He didn't display it on camera, fiddled with it in his lap. "What if I was in a relationship and I hadn't yet told anyone?"

"You don't want to lose your seat, do you?" It was a dirty ploy, but the Ferrari team was desperate. "You're almost thirty, you have a limited number of wins under your belt and no championships. Will any other team want you?"

Carlos's heart pounded in his chest. "So, I have to go on with this fake relationship and I'll get to keep my seat?"

"Exactly."

He sucked in a deep breath. Just a wall separated him from the love of his life, but here he was, ready to betray her. All for his seat. "What will I have to do?"

The rest of the meeting was spent with the Ferrari team telling Carlos exactly what they wanted from him. Be seen with her at races, have her in the Ferrari garage, take her to dinner sometimes. It was easy enough.

But it wasn't. Because the woman he loved was going to be at the races too, just not with him, not in the way they wanted Rebecca to be with him.

It was too late for him to back out. The press had released several stories about Carlos and Rebecca already.

The call ended, but he just stayed there, sitting in his chair. He flipped open the ring box several times, playing with it in his hands. The ring was gorgeous, simple, elegant. But now, Carlos doubted he'd ever get to put it on her finger.

At the knock on his office door, Carlos shoved the ring back into his desk drawer. "Carlos?" She called as she entered his office. He looked to the door as she walked in. Her shoes clicked softly against the tiled floor as she walked to his desk and sat herself on his lap. "I've got news about the release. It's launching next week."

"I'll be the first to buy it," he said, his hands on her hips.

Just hours ago, this would have been welcome news. The release of her book meant they were one step closer with telling the world about their relationship. But all of that had been thrown out of the window now, and she had no idea.

"I can't wait to kiss you after a race," she said, her head against his shoulder. "I can't wait to be seen with you."

Carlos said nothing. He kissed her head and held her close, relishing in these moments they had together. There was no telling how many more there would be once she found out.

Maybe he could propose to her now. Drop down onto one knee, put the ring onto her finger and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe. But then it would hurt so much more when she found out.

And he couldn't do that to her.

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[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 36)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (34)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN enjoyed her morning and flight back, still trying to comprehend what was happening. She’d wished she had time to go through Edinburgh itself but had been swamped all morning with emails relating to the expansion of staff. Lumos management were also a lot more vocal with her now that they’d all met and decided she should be directly involved with their meetings and decisions.

Once she’d landed, she’d Ubered to her and Jordan’s house to pick up Miles and give Blu a pat before she drove to the conference room in town. She’d arrived just after midday and was delightfully pleased to see the entire team was already there with canapes just working and bantering away. She greeted them all as she entered and as she walked to her seat, she realised there were a large bunch of flowers sitting in her space. She was a little confused. Was this from Catherine? From the team for the first round? From the hotel the conference room was in? She looked around for an explanation and only received a few grins in response. She gently touched one of her flowers and leant in to smell them before taking the card out of the top.

Hi little one,

Well done on your first round of women’s football!

I’m so proud of you, always, in everything that you do.

I can’t wait to see you soon in Spain.

I love you.

Lucy x

She blushed as her heart fluttered, again finding a few of those grins, yet now they were teasing. She didn’t mind being teased for it. She was proud of her relationship with Lucy. She moved the flowers more central in the table and took her seat, setting up her laptop and notes before sending a quick photo and text to Lucy.

She knew they had a lot to cover and made sure to text Jordan, asking for a heads up when she was headed home. She wanted to be there for her. She put her phone on the table and they began. They spoke about the first round, each team member talking about their experiences and ideas. They spoke about the interviews, the posts, the equipment, all of it. When they were done, YFN made sure they were all comfortable and confident with their roles and then dropped the bombshell. They were expanding. Already. She told them how happy and ambitious management were. They’d expanded from ten including YFN to fifty. This was a shock to everyone of course, however YFN managed to ease them.

“Fifty?!” Ruby almost yelled. “How much money does this company have?!”

“The company has a lot of faith in us…and they were very impressed with the first round.”

“But that’s mainly because your interviews were amazing…” Ethan countered.

“No, we all did amazing work.” Bridget disagreed.

“Fifty sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t,” she assured. “We have six games a week. Fifty is our new number so that we can have three videographers, three photographers, one editor and one interviewer per game. That’s forty-eight people. The extras will be Noel for IT as our posting and editing becomes even more sizeable, and myself.”

They thought this was definitely a lot more reasonable when it was put like that.

“Management are throwing money into us to not only expedite the process of growth, but to make sure we’re training and preparing for the international fixtures as well,” she explained. “We won’t just be doing WSL the entire time. Plus, there are the other leagues in Europe, and the other minor leagues in the UK.”

“But the training…” Emily almost whispered.

YFN nodded, running a hand through her hair a little stressed. “Oh, trust me, I know. We need to be fully prepped and confident for our games so we make the mistakes in practise rather than onsite.”

“Prior planning prevents piss poor performance.” Sam quoted.

“Exactly and I have a plan for that. Now we’re all new here but we’ve all been in the field, we’ve researched and prepped and decided on how to best create a product that suits our brand image. It’s because of this that my plan is to have you all in supervisory roles for the new team coming in. The new hires will arrive next Tuesday which gives us time to prep with them prior to our third round. I’ll put you into game groups and you can work together to prep during the week, with this group supervising each game group and taking a bit more responsibility. Teach them what you’ve learnt. Next week is going to be a long week, but we can do it. I’ll expect progress reports also as I can’t monitor fifty people. If someone is excelling, or not quite up to scratch, I expect to be told so we can sort it out prior to our game. Also…” she looked around the conference room. “…we’ve just acquired an office space in London. I understand that not everyone will live there, and I just want to state that when we’re up and running more comfortably, the people who live further away will be able to zoom our meetings instead if they choose. In the meantime, we’ll continue with our face to face meetings, though don’t neglect yourselves. If it becomes too hard to travel; let me know. We’re going to have enough people to cover each other, it’s okay.”

The rest of the meeting was fairly better as YFN had decided they would only start to worry about the new hires later on. Right now, it was about prepping for the next games.

Their schedule set out for the upcoming week was as such:

Man United vs West Ham (Leigh Sports Village, Manchester): 12th Nov 1200 – YFN and Ruby.

Spurs vs Liverpool (Brisbane Road, London): 12th Nov 1230 – Sam and Olivia.

Everton vs Chelsea (Walton Hall Park, Liverpool): 12th Nov 1300 – Ethan and Daniel.

Man City vs Brighton (Joie Stadium, Manchester): 12th Nov 1300 – Bridget and Emily.

Bristol vs Aston Villa (Ashton Gate Stadium, Bristol): 12th Nov 1400 – Matt and Noel.

Leicester vs Arsenal (King Power Stadium, Leicester): 12th Nov 1845 – YFN and Ruby (relocate from United vs West Ham); Matt (relocate from Bristol vs Aston Villa in Bristol est arrival: 1900).

The scheduling was tight because all of the games were on the same day, and she needed to be carefully logistically to make sure she didn’t have people driving out of their way unnecessarily. Luckily, Matt lived in Birmingham and would be able to get to the Leicester vs Arsenal game for YFN to get some good interviews of the players, one she was hoping would be Kyra and Courtney.

Before she knew it, the clock had ticked over to 5pm and Jordan had messaged.

Dory: Training just finished. I’ll be home in 20.

YFN: I’m coming. I’ll get take-away for us. What would you like, Dory?

Dory: Anything I’m not supposed to eat.

YFN: You’re amazing. See you at home soon, roomie x

YFN walked through the front door, pizza in one hand and flowers tucked under the other arm, her work bag slung over her shoulder. Regardless of this, Jordan was on her from the moment she opened the door, wrapping arms around YFN’s waist. After a cute little hug, YFN spoke when she felt Jordan getting emotional.

“Okay, firstly, I love you. Secondly, we’re eating before we talk. We need to get this comfort food into you before it goes cold.”

They settled onto the couch and devoured the pizza quickly, having to snatch it away from Blu at times. Then, Jordan spoke.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? For having sex with someone you love? Someone who knows you and loves you too?”

“I guess it does sound better when you say it like that…”

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

Jordan sighed. “We dropped you off and came back home. We didn’t speak much in the car. She put her hand on my thigh, but I think it was more of a reassurance thing than a sexual thing. Then we spoke when we got home. I did exactly what you said, I sat far away so I wouldn’t be tempted by anything. She said the nicest things, YFN.” Jordan began to cry. “How much she loved me and missed me and how badly she’d screwed up. I couldn’t help myself, I cried and I couldn’t stop. I tried to hold it together. She comforted me and…” She put her hand on the back of the couch, presumably where they’d been sitting.

“Did you have sex right here?”

Jordan’s tears paused as she gave a cheeky, embarrassed smile.

“Ooookay I’m going to pretend I didn’t ask.” She reached out and brushed some of Jordan’s tears away. “Was it…bad?”

“No,” she admitted. “No, it was incredible. Probably the best sex I’ve had in my life. It was so desperate and passionate. I don’t know what happened, I missed her touch, I just melted.”

“Ah…and you cried after it?”

“No, I cried during it. It felt so good and to have her back so close to me. I missed her so much, YFN. I think after we’d been…doing it a while…the lust faded a little, and I just got scared. Scared that she made me feel so happy, made me feel so loved and then I got scared she’d leave again. I panicked and cried. She didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do. I told her to go.”

“She tried to stay?”

“Yeah of course but I was just a mess, I needed to be alone.”

YFN hesitated. “You pushed her away before she could leave you…”

“Is that what I did?” She whispered.

“Oh Dory, come here.” YFN pulled Jordan into her lap and wrapped her arms around her, stroking her supportively. YFN and Jordan were both very, very affectionate people, especially physically.

“I don’t know if I can trust her again. I th…thought I c…could.” Her crying increased and she clung to the front of YFN’s shirt.

“Did you tell her why you wanted her to go?”

“That’s the worst part…she begged me to stay. She was on her knees at one point. On her ACL torn knee…but I couldn’t look at her. I wanted her to go. I knew she had a long drive back to London. I knew it was late. I still kicked her out.” She shook her head. “She begged me all the way out of the door to explain what was happening. I just remember telling her, “I can’t handle you leaving me again.””

YFN’s stomach dropped for Leah. She finally got close to Jordan again. Close enough for sex. For intimacy. She must have been so happy…and in a split second it was all taken away from her because of that insecurity she’d planted in Jordan with her previous mistake.

“It’s okay…it’s okay. Leah will understand, trust me. Has she messaged you?”

Jordan nodded into her. “She’s sent me multiple messages since.”

“And have your feelings changed?”

“That fear of her leaving? It’s not going away anytime soon.”

“I think she needs to win your trust back. You two made a mistake by diving into sex.”

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You need to let her know that if she wants you, she needs to build that trust back. She needs to know that it may take a long time but it’ll be worth it because she’ll get to have you back.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right…”

“If I’ve learnt anything over the past few days it’s that communication is key…”

“I just need a little space.”

“Okay…look, I’ll be at the Arsenal game on Sunday in Leicester. I’ll talk to her if you want? Explain a little…”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“Okay, I think you should message her asking for your space for the moment.”

“Can you do it?”

“I think this one is best coming from you, Jords.”

 She sighed but took her phone out and texted Leah without reading the messages the other woman had sent her.

“You won’t be at the Aston Villa game this week?”

YFN shook her head. “No, I’ll be covering Untied vs West Ham and then Leicester vs Arsenal.”

“But aren’t you going to Spain?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah…I was planning on going Friday. Lucy has a game Saturday and then I’d fly back for the Sunday games.”

“You’re not staying for long, then? Lucy’s going to be upset.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I know, I planned on doing zoom for my meetings next week, but we’ve just expanded our employees by five hundred percent.”

“What the-”

“Oh, please don’t ask anything. I’m stressed and besides, tonight is all you, Jords. I think a phone call with Lucy and then with Katie and Caitlin may be just what you need, hm?”

Jordan agreed. “Yes, please! I’ll get rid of this rubbish and get us drinks while you message them.”

YFN opened her phone, hovering her finger above Lucy’s message before she remembered their phone call from last night. She bit her lip as she opened Instagram. Sure enough, the first posts were of Lucy boxing and YFN could feel her skin getting hot, and she squirmed as she also felt herself getting wet for her. God damn. Lucy. Those biceps. Lucy. That determined look. Lucy. She groaned.

“You okay?” Jordan asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah!” She called back and liked the post. She considered commenting and decided against that. She was worried how forward she would be in front of Lucy’s 750k followers.

YFN: Hey Luce, are you free for a call with Dory?

Lucy: Hi, little one. I’ve been waiting for your text. I smile when your name pops up on my phone. Yes, I’m free whenever you want me.

YFN: I always want you. And you’re always busy.

Lucy: Lies.

Jordan passed her a drink over the couch and she took a sip.

Lucy: Come to Spain and fuck the busy out of me.

She choked on her drink. Jordan gave her a look before she rolled her eyes as she made her own drink.

YFN: Behave. I’m barely hanging on with your Instagram posts.

Lucy: I hoped you’d like them…can we have a late-night call tonight when you’re free?

YFN: Yes, please.

It’s crazy how naturally they fell into teasing each other. She sent another message to the messenger with Katie, Caitlin and Jordan.

YFN: Hi! Are you all free for a group call with Dory and I in the next hour or so?

Caitlin: KEEN.

Katie: Only if we see your faces.

YFN: Done. I’ll message you soon!

Jordan joined her on the couch then and she called Lucy, giving Jordan the phone. Obviously, Jordan had Lucy’s number, but this was more convenient. She watched as the two old friends spoke, Lucy not failing to make Jordan grin and laugh. Of course she could. At one point they were even speaking about her, and YFN rolled her eyes, working a little on her laptop while they had their talk.

Their talk ended after about forty minutes, Jordan hanging up before YFN could talk to Lucy. She frowned. Lucy immediately texted.

Lucy: Call me in bed?

YFN: Okay, I’ll be about an hour, love. Thank you for that, she really needed it. You managed to cheer her up a lot.

Lucy: I know her too well. You’re welcome, though. Talk soon. x

YFN messaged the girls back then telling them to call whenever they were free. Apparently, that was immediately. Jordan and YFN on one end, Katie and Caitlin on the other. It was a hilarious conversation after Jordan had been honest about what happened with Leah to them. They’d given her support and told her to take her time which reassured her a little bit more. Katie had changed the mood of the conversation after that by introducing Coopurr by holding the cat up to the camera. Jordan responded in kind with Blu, of course. Then Caitlin surprised her fellow Australian with a question.

“Hey chicken, do you know what’s happening with Kyra? She’s been a bit off and we figured you might know…”

YFN hesitated. She didn’t want to keep anything from them, but knew it wasn’t her place. “Uh…yeah…it’s not really my place to say though…”

Katie turned to Caitlin. “I told you.”

“You were right,” Caitlin rasped. “It’s about Courtney then.”

They watched as YFN practically glued her mouth shut. Of course they knew. Courtney was a Matilda. Caitlin was a Matilda.

“Is that why you’re coming to our game now?”

“Oh, that's right! You two were so obvious when Kyra asked what game you were going to.”

“Mmnhmn. Yeah, look, all I can say is that I plan on interviewing them together. We’re going to start interviewing players in groups more, and also interviewing opposition together. So this weekend I’ll do a young interview with those two if I can catch Courtney, and then I’ll do an-”

“An old person interview? Rude.” Caitlin laughed.

YFN rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, we’re happy to do an interview with you, but I assume you want someone you haven’t talked to yet?”

“Yeah, you know, I was thinking Kim or…” She stopped herself as she looked at Jordan.

Jordan frowned. Leah. There was a moment of silence.

“That’s okay, you know.” Jordan reassured. YFN gave a grateful smile.

“…or Jen Beattie?”

“Are you in those little sleeping shorts of yours?” Lucy asked.

“Yes,” she almost whispered.

Lucy hummed. “Good. Take them off.”

YFN did as she was told, wriggling them off and turning back to her phone propped up against Lucy’s pillow.

“Shirt too.”

She pulled her shirt off, now fully bare beneath the sheets besides her socks. Lucy knew she loved her socks, though.

“I wish you could understand how much I want you right now.” She said a little exasperated.

“Tell me…” She whispered, looking at Lucy through the camera. She allowed herself to begin playing with one of her nipples and Lucy noticed, groaning.

“If you could feel between my thighs, you’d know just how much I miss you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you…I can’t seem to get you out of my mind.”

“Good.” She said almost harshly. “That’s where I belong. Inside your mind. Inside you. Now I need you to touch yourself. I need your hands to do what I wish mine were right now.”

“Guide me where you want me, Luce.”

“Put your free hand around your throat. Good girl. Squeeze a little. Argh…yes. You like that, hm? Two days and that’ll be my hand.”

“God I need you, Luce.”

“I have no idea how I didn’t fuck you silly the other night.”

“Because you love me,” she whispered, her hand moving down over her body and under the sheets. She knew Lucy would enjoy that visual.

“Did I tell you to do that?”

YFN paused. “No…”

“Hm.”

“Can I…?” She trailed off as she saw Lucy’s darkened eyes through the screen.

“Use your words, love.”

“Can I touch myself?”

“Yes, but don’t go inside. Not yet.”

She felt through the wetness of her body, not realising just how ready she was. She was tempted to slip a finger in, but Lucy told her she couldn’t just yet, and so she didn’t. Her fingers found her little bundle of nerves and began to play.

“That’s my girl,” Lucy groaned. “T…that’s my girl. Feel that.”

Lucy stuttering a little was proof to her that she was also touching herself. Her eyes rolled back at the thought and her body was twitching and getting tingly at the stimulation of her clit. They worked themselves up like that for a while, both moaning and shakily breathing. Hearing Lucy losing control was one of her favourite things. She just wished she were right there, rather than across a phone.

“Luce, c…can I go inside?”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

She bit her lip and her back arched at the question, her fingers speeding up. She whimpered. “You, Luce. I belong to you.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t you ever fucking forget that. Two fingers inside, now.”

YFN eagerly thrust two fingers inside herself, her body jerking and her legs automatically widening.

“I want to hear you.”

YFN released one of her nipples to drag the phone down and place it on her left thigh. She could hear Lucy groaning from the other end. She threw the sheet off so she could hear her better.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” she repeated. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m yours, Luce. And I…I’m the l…lucky one.” She had no idea how she managed to get the sentence out. She was so wound up, her body arched into her hand, hips automatically thrusting against her fingers.

“I want you to come like this, fucking yourself. Don't move the phone, I want to hear it.”

YFN did as she was told, and sped up her assault, her body becoming a shaky, uncontrolled mess. It didn’t take long for her to get right to that edge, and she could hear Lucy getting closer. Lucy wasn’t very vocal, that was something they were still working on, however her moaning and panting betrayed her. She was close. She just needed to be tipped over the edge. So YFN gave her that.

“Arghh…Luce…Lucy…can I come?”

She knew asking permission would be Lucy’s last straw.

“Y…yes,” she gasped. “Come.”

YFN sped up her efforts once more as her body unfolded and that electric shock of ecstasy shocked her body into a tense spasm. She heard Lucy whimpering on the other end of the phone and that just made it last longer.

She let herself come down and reached for a tissue near the bed to wipe herself clean. She took the phone and put it back up near her face as she rolled to the side and looked at her girlfriend. Lucy pushed the glasses up her nose, giving a satiated grin. She couldn’t help but return her own.

“This is becoming a regular thing for us.” YFN said.

“I need this just to be able to think during the day about something other than fucking you.”

“Ah, but I thought you liked thinking about me.”

Lucy laughed incredulously. “Yes, but I also have a profession I should be thinking about. Mapi managed to kick a ball into me today while I was zoned out thinking about how good you look under me.”

The visual was hilarious. “You’re insatiable.”

“It’s never been a problem until you. I feel like I’m losing a battle of urges.”

“Keep talking, please, you’re making me feel very loved right now.”

Lucy laughed and YFN continued. “But if it’s any consolation, I also can’t stop thinking about you. The one time I managed to not, was when I was walking into my meeting but then I saw your flowers…”

Lucy grinned. “You liked them? I thought it’d be romantic.”

“Oh, it was. And just so you know, your surprise will be there tomorrow also.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with excitement. “You sent me something?!”

“Last night. I just wanted you to know that I sent it BEFORE I received your flowers.”

“Who’s the romantic one, now?”

“You, always you. I may be a romantic, but I’ll never have anything on you, Luce.”

[pensat-i-fet]

Not a crush (Pedri x Reader)

**I got this request and thought it could be cute and fun. It’s true that the Spanish press has been talking about this arms situation a lot, so it’s a good blend of fiction and reality. But then it turned into one of those writing projects that changed 7 times before its final form. For a second I even thought about turning this into a series. My brain! Anyways, enjoy reading! ❤️**

ETA: I ended up writing a series based on this imagine that you can read here!

Word count: 2685

Masterlist

Wattpad

“All those years in uni to end up doing this”, you muttered. “I’m never going to be taken seriously”.

“What are you talking about?”

“This article I have to do”.

Your colleague Jordi moved his chair closer to yours to peek at your computer screen.

“You know that we can’t use the computers for personal stuff, right?”

You put your head on the table. Really, no one was going to take you seriously.

“Huh?”

“Why are you looking at photos of shirtless Pedri? Got a crush?”

“Shut up! I have to do an article about the evolution of his body in the last couple of years”.

“That’s cool”.

“It’s stupid!”

“I’ve done worse when I was an intern. Don’t be so negative”.

You guessed he was right. It could be a lot worse. And you didn’t have a crush but…there were worse ways to spend a Tuesday afternoon than looking at photos of a cute player. And being given an excuse to stare at his body, which had definitely changed in the last couple of years. You didn’t visit the gym much but liked it when others did. Especially if that was the result of their gym sessions.

Writing the article actually took a good chunk of your day. Between getting the right photos and videos for it and asking for permission to use them, the actual writing and your colleagues' stupid comments about it, it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be at first. But it was a good article. And once the editor saw it and was happy with it, it was posted on the newspaper's website.

The following day you posted a link to it on your social media accounts and a little later you started to go through the comments. So many of them talked about how you were only picked to do that article because it was about a man's body and you were a woman. Right…nothing new on Twitter.

“Stop replying to hate comments”.

“It’s therapeutical”.

"It's pointless".

Just one more…

                                      **

It wasn't just the press or people on social media talking about Pedri's muscles. His teammates loved to tease him joking about that too.

"Here comes the Spanish Lewandowski", laughed Eric.

"So funny".

"Please don't be mad at me. I'm afraid you'll use those big strong muscles to punish me".

Pedri did use his muscles to push his friend and get him out of the way. He knew it was just banter but it all got boring after a few days.

"There needs to be a big signing or something so your arms stop being the topic of the week", told him Ferrán, who was looking at his phone.

“Yeah, I saw Barça posting about it on social media too. People are so overdramatic”.

“Totally, but I didn't mean that. I meant the new article”.

"What new article?"

Ferrán showed him your article and Pedri sat down to read it properly. It was a great article. You took the time to analyze the way his game could be influenced by this body change and picked different photos than the ones used by everyone else. He guessed there were still proper journalists out there. What a plot twist.

"It's a good article", he said, giving the phone back to his friend.

"The internet seems to disagree".

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know if they disagree but the girl who wrote it was getting a lot of shit on social media".

"Why?", Pedri couldn't hide his frown.

"I didn't look much into it but I saw people saying nasty things to her and then they found some old tweets and …seems like she used to have a crush on you and now she writes about your muscles or whatever and people on Twitter are the way they always are".

"Right", he murmured. He had listened to everything his friend said but also got stuck on how you used to have a crush on him. And he didn't even know who you were but footballers…they just loved being loved.

                                     **

"No point in deleting them now", said Jordi.

"I wasn't going to…".

People had too much time on their hands. That was the conclusion of the day. Somehow, just because of your article, someone decided to check your entire Twitter history to see if there was anything they could accuse you of. They probably were mad to find no offensive tweets but they found two where you retweeted a Barça fan page and wrote about liking Pedri.

The funniest thing was you barely remembered those tweets. You saw him, thought he was cute and posted that. Then you moved on. There were many players you found cute but had no time for crushes. Pedri got a mention purely for the fact that he signed for your team.

But now this was being used against you. So childish.

"Are you busy next week?"

You looked up to see your boss talking to you. He never talked to you.

"I guess. I mean, I'll be here working. So…".

"Do you have a passport?"

"Yes".

"Your English was good, right?"

"Pretty good, yeah".

He only had to look at your CV to see all the qualifications you had, including all the diplomas that proved your English was more than good but…no one cared that much about an intern.

"You're going on the US tour", he said and left. How could he drop that bomb and leave?

Your jaw was on the floor and Jordi was staring at you with a similar expression.

"Wait!", you said, finally able to get up and follow your boss. "What do you mean I'm going on the US tour? There is a group of people chosen for that already. It was decided months ago".

"I know", he said casually. "But one of them can't go and you'll take his spot".

"But I'm just an intern".

"Do you not want to go?"

"I do! Of course I do!", you said quickly. "But it doesn't make sense".

"Look. You're doing really well here. And you've gotten people to visit our website more than ever with just one article so…you earned it".

You had heard about all the visits to the website after the Pedri article was posted. But the way your boss was avoiding holding eye contact told you everything you needed to know.

"Am I just going because people think I have a crush on one of the players that'll be there?"

"If you weren't a good journalist, that wouldn't be enough for me to send you with that team. But it doesn't hurt".

"Ok, I'll start packing".

This was a great opportunity and you weren't going to reject it just because of some of the reasons surrounding it. But the excitement you felt when you first heard about the trip completely vanished.

And when you checked your Instagram and saw a certain player was looking at your stories…it was even worse.

No one took you seriously but you'd prove them wrong.

                                     **

The pre-season was both loved and hated by players. Pedri didn't really have strong feelings about it. It was just part of the job and they got to visit some different places so there were positives to take from these couple of weeks.

Another positive was having you around. After finding out about your article and your past crush on him, he checked your social media accounts. There wasn't much on any of them, since they were professional accounts. But there were a couple of photos of you and your dog.

Stories were something you also used to mostly promote your work and it was while checking those he found out you were going to the US too. He was hoping you'd meet at some point but didn't expect you'd be the one to interview him.

"Hi, nice to meet you", you said, extending your hand for him to shake. So professional.

"Nice meeting you too. I really liked your article about me".

Something changed in your expression and he couldn't understand what it was but you quickly got back to professional mode.

"Thank you. Let's get this done quickly. I was told we only have 15 minutes".

The interview was pretty uneventful. You asked good questions and Pedri gave you good answers in return. But you were so serious. He didn't know you personally, so maybe that was how you always were. But Pedri had a feeling there was more to it.

"Was that good?"

"The interview? Yes, thank you for your answers. They were really good".

"Easy when the questions are good too".

You nodded, quickly looking away.

"Are you ok?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because it seems like you would want to be anywhere but here".

You closed your eyes and sighed.

"Is it because of what people said about you?"

His words made you open your eyes and you finally looked at him. Instead of answering, you simply nodded.

"Don't pay attention to them".

"Easier said than done. Especially when they are the reason I'm here".

"The reason…".

"I'm not here because I'm good at my job. But because people thinking I have a crush on you got us a lot of attention. And now this interview will get more attention. So I'm basically just a pawn and I guess so are you".

"I'm sorry".

"It's not your fault".

Picking up your things, you got ready to leave but Pedri stopped you.

"I don't read what people write about me but my parents do. They like to keep the articles and print the photos and all that. Things parents do, I guess", he shrugged. "I read your article because Ferrán showed it to me and thought it was great. And then my parents told me about it, praising your writing multiple times. Your newspaper might be using you but you're good. You showed it to me in this interview too so don't feel sad".

"I don't have a crush on you".

"What?", but then he realised what you meant. "I didn't praise you because of that. God, you really need to get out of that mindset".

When Pedri started to laugh, you were more confused than ever.

"It's not you against the world. And people will praise you just because they genuinely want to…but now I'll be the one who's sad".

"Why?"

"I liked thinking you had a crush on me".

Now you were laughing too. Finally, he got to see the smile he had seen in those photos.

"Thank you for your words. I needed them. And you must go to train. I'll see you around".

"Yes".

The interview was posted just a couple of hours later. And even if Pedri's words helped, the comments you got still hurt.

Got what she wanted. To meet him.

"Yes, that's all I wanted in life. I can retire now".

"Why are you looking at your phone like it offended you?", asked one of your colleagues.

"It's the people inside it that offend me".

"Are there people living inside your phone?"

You half laughed at his bad joke.

"I know what you need to cheer up".

"Really?"

"Yes. Thoughts on karaoke?"

That made you laugh. You were such a terrible singer. "I like it. People don't like hearing me sing, though".

"I want to hear you sing so you're coming with us tonight".

                                   **

One of the easiest ways to get in trouble during pre-season was to go out and wake up to paparazzi photos of the party. But when it was the coach that took you out…then it was fine?

Pedri wasn't really into parties anyways but he thought karaoke night could be fun. He wasn't planning on signing but knew which teammates would. His phone was going to record all of it to tease them in the future.

"It started already", said Xavi, who was the first one to get inside the bar.

And he was right. There was someone leaving the stage while they found their tables. And someone else took the previous person's place immediately. Pedri wasn't interested in the random people who were going to sign but still looked up to see who was talking to the guy that controlled the machine.

And it was you who was on the stage.

"Well, that's a surprise", he said, almost to himself.

"What is?", Ferrán was now looking at the stage too. "Who is she? She's hot".

"The journalist who wrote about my muscles".

"The one that doesn't have a crush on you?", he laughed. "That's funnier now that I know she's pretty".

Pedri rolled his eyes and continued staring at you. He could see you were giggling and it was such a change from the super serious woman he met for the interview.

You picked a Franz Ferdinand song. They were one of your favourite bands when you were a teen and after seeing them live at the FIB, you were back to listening to all their songs on repeat.

Oh, when I woke up tonight, I said I’m

Going to make somebody love me

I’m going to make somebody love me

And now I know, now I know, now I know

I know that it’s you

You’re lucky, lucky, you’re so lucky

Your voice wasn’t great but who cared about that on karaoke night? Pedri didn’t. He just stared at you. You looked so relaxed. Just having fun instead of the worried version of you he got for his interview.

“Whoever she chooses would be lucky. She isn’t lying”.

Ferrán’s words took Pedri out of his daydreams. “What do you mean?”

“The song”.

“I’m not really paying attention to the lyrics. What do they mean?”

His teammate explained the meaning of the lyrics quickly and Pedri had to agree. Whoever you chose would be very lucky.

“I wouldn’t mind being the chosen one but you saw her first. Shame she doesn’t have a crush on you anymore, Pedrito”.

Yeah, it was a shame.

When you finished your song, you felt so much better. This had been the right plan to improve your mood. None of your colleagues wanted a drink, so you went to the bar to get one. It was needed after all that singing.

“I didn’t know you were a singer too?”

You turned to face Pedri and snorted. “Yes, it was my plan b if journalism didn’t work out”.

“There is always autotune to help”.

Pedri was pleased to see you laughing at his words. It was the second time in just one day he had achieved that.

“Do you want a drink too?”, you asked him when the bartender was taking your order.

“Just water, please”.

Once you got your drinks, none of you moved from the bar to go back to your friends. You just kept chatting.

“I mean, who knew writing about someone’s arms could lead to so much drama”.

Pedri followed your eyes which were now staring at his biceps. “Want to touch them?”

Yes. “No”.

“After reading the article I wondered if you knew more about my body than I do, you know? So it’s ok, you can touch”.

You bit your lip, trying not to blush. "I know you hear every day about how good you are at everything and that makes you overly confident but you aren’t as great at flirting as you might think".

"I heard about how great I am from you too. So you're at fault".

"I've barely written about you apart from that article".

"Yeah, but the old tweets…".

"I told you I don’t have a crush on you”.

“And the way you’re blushing says something different”.

When he leaned closer, you noticed how your knees were touching beneath the bar. They had been touching for a couple of minutes and you hadn’t even noticed. Nor did you feel the need to move.

“Not here”, you said.

“What?”

“Not where people can see us”.

“I thought you didn’t…”.

“I just want to test a theory”.

“What theory?”, he asked, smirking at you.

“If the crush I had on you two years ago is still there”.

[orcasoul]

Oh Baby!

Summery: Pedro Pascal and reader are in a relationship. Pedro's career is sky rocketing and reader also has a demanding job. Throw in an unexpected pregnancy and well...... shit!

Warnings: Swearing, Pedro being and not being an asshole (you'll see). Use of Y/N.

Italics indicate inward thinking.

Gripping the edges of the bathroom sink, you take slow, deep breaths to steady your breathing, while your mind is going into overdrive. Your chest feels tight and your legs are like jelly. Slowly you raise your head to stare at you reflection in the mirror. You don't even feel like yourself right now, almost like you're having an out of body experience. Reality suddenly feels foreign to you, like you're trapped in a surreal dream. But this is no dream. It's real, oh it's definitely real. The two red lines on the four pregnancy tests sitting on the under sink cabinet can attest to that! "Shit," you mutter quietly, still looking at yourself in disbelief. "This can't be happening." It wasn't supposed to happen . You'd been on the pill for two years and always used extra protection if you had antibiotics. You were always so careful, but careful obviously wasn't careful enough. How would you even begin to tell Pedro that you're carrying his baby? How would he react? Your mind keeps replaying one specific interview of his you'd seen. "I don't even have kids. And I'm not gonna!" His words exactly.

He'd mentioned to you once that his hectic work schedule doesn't allow time for kids, and honestly it wasn't high on your priority list either. Your job as an editor is very demanding and sometimes trickles into your home life. Both you and Pedro had grown accustom the stresses and scarifies you've both had to make over the past couple of years when it comes to your jobs, but you'd both made it work and were happy and comfortable together. But adding a baby into the mix just seemed impossible. You try to remember your last period but you'd been so busy with work lately that you hadn't even noticed you'd missed..... shit, two! Two periods. It was only the past few days of constant queasiness and dizzy spells that led you to suspect what you'd hoped wouldn't be true. But here you are, the "truth" staring right back at you. "Oh my god," you whimpered while rubbing your hands over your face, "Fuck, what now?!"

You try your best to keep it together but you can't contain the rush of different emotions that are encompassing you at this moment and the tears begin to fall. It's exhausting trying to process everything you're feeling; fear and uncertainty but also a gravitation and protectiveness you've never felt before. This baby was certainly not planned and you couldn't deny that you wished the tests were negative, but knowing that it's definitely there has awakened an instinct in you that has always been present but dormant, just waiting to be unleashed. How is it possible to want and not want it at the same time? Will Pedro want it? Will he be mad? Pedro had been away for two weeks filming for a new advert and had a photo shoot straight after so he'd be away for another two weeks, at least. You both video called each other every day. You'd always looked forward to it but the thought of today's impending call left your stomach in knots! There was no way you could tell him something so life changing over the phone. You'd just have to keep it yourself until he gets home and try your best to act normal when talking to him.

It turns out pretending nothing had changed wasn't that difficult for the next week. Maybe it was because of the distance and the fact that you could make up an excuse to end the call when your anxiety began to creep in. But in one week's time he'd be home and you know it'll be harder to act nonchalant around him, especially now that your lower belly has started to swell slightly. Slight enough that you could blame it on junk food if he noticed, but it's only going to get bigger. After a long day at work, you finally get to relax for the evening, settling down to watch one of your favourite shows. Leaning back into the settee you found yourself gently smoothing your palm over the curve of your abdomen, wondering just how much would change in the coming months and how Pedro would take the news. You still struggled to get your head around it yourself but now that you've had time to think, you know there's no way you'd get rid of it, no matter what happened. Well, I have one more week to figure out how I'm going to tell him, you ruminate..... or so you thought.

"Y/N I'm home." Pedro called out as the front door slammed shut. You shot up off the settee faster than a rocket as Pedro walked into the living room with a wide grin. You stood frozen to the spot as he dropped his bags and rushed over to you, picking you up in a tight hug. With the fervour of a man touch starved he kissed you as if he hadn't kissed you in years, deep and sultry. You instantly dissolve into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Wow," you whispered breathlessly as you pull away to look into his eyes. "Missed me that much, huh?" You teasingly ask, trying to sound as though your heart isn't beating a million miles an hour. "What do you think?" he relied with a smirk, setting you back down. "How are you home so soon?" You hope your question did come across the wrong way. Of course you're thrilled that he's home. You always loved it when he returned home earlier than expected, and it happened so rarely that usually you'd be on cloud nine, but this one time you wished you had that week. A week where you could prepare for every eventuality. "We were ahead of schedule for once. I thought I'd surprise you instead of calling ahead." Your silent stare made Pedro chuckle, his soft eyes creasing at the corners. "That surprised, are you?"

You suddenly realise how off your reaction must seem to him and quickly collect yourself before he can think any more of it. "I just wasn't expecting you so soon. Great surprise though!" you smile genuinely as you tip toe to kiss the end of his nose. "I really missed you. How was it?" "Oh you know, early mornings, late nights, hours of hair and make up, retake after retake, blah blah blah....," Pedro trailed off while waving his hand in the air dismissively. "How have you been sweetheart?" He asked while stroking down the curve of your back. I've missed you like hell." "Yeah I've.... I've been fine. Works been fine." Your voice ever so slightly, nervously shook at his question, making you cringe inwardly but luckily he didn't seem to notice your change in tone. "Well, you go unpack and I'll make us something to eat," you offered, trying to keep your composure, even though you felt like a deer caught in headlights. As Pedro heads to the bedroom to unpack you hurry into the kitchen and pour a glass of water to quell your nerves. Not quite the same effect as alcohol, you huff inwardly.

You get to work preparing Chilean Avocado sandwiches, as it's one of Pedro's favourite foods. But after only a few seconds you are hit with a strong bought of nausea from the smell and lunge towards the sink, making it there just in time. After violently retching up what not only felt like the contents of your stomach, but also every organ in your body into the sink you are startled by a warm and gentle hand rubbing your back. "You okay, baby?" "Oh fuck!" You turn swiftly, wiping your mouth with a tea towel. "Uh... yeah... must be a virus or something. It's going around. My sister's kids had it last week." You hated lying to Pedro. Well, it was half a lie; Your nieces and nephew did have a bug last week but you know that this is definitely not a virus. Pedro looked at you with a creased brow, clearly concerned. "Why don't you go lie down? I'll take care of this," he suggested, looking over at the ingredients on the kitchen counter. When he realised you were making his one of his favourite's he turned to you with an adoring smile.

"Aww, you were making my favourite sandwich, thank you darling." "Anything for you, baby," you lovingly reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I think I will go and lie down for a bit." you concede. "A bit" actually lasted until the next morning. Your body felt heavy and exhausted as you dragged yourself out of bed for work. The next three days were hard going. The morning sickness began each morning from the moment you woke up, getting stronger every day. Pedro became more and more worried asking, no begging you to call in sick for work. But each day you'd insisted you didn't feel that bad. The truth was you felt like shit! The unabating nausea and fatigue left you feeling on edge, knowing you can't keep this a secret for much longer. He's going to figure it out any day now or at least suspect, your anxious mind keeps telling you. By the evening of the third day Pedro couldn't take the worry anymore. "You've been ill for three days Y/N," he observed, uneasily, while sitting beside you on the bed, his hand caressing your cheek. "If you're no better in the morning you have to see the doctor." His face betrayed the apprehension he's feeling. "Ped, no I'm fine-" "You're not fine and you're starting to worry me." He cut you off in an urgent but not angry tone. "I'll drag you there if I have to." "Okay, Okay. I'll go," you groggily reply with a small smile. Relieved, Pedro leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Get some sleep baby. I'll check on you in a bit."

And with that he walked out of the room, leaving the door ajar. You closed you eyes and sighed. You knew this time would come. The time when you'd have to spill the beans, as they say. You weren't entirely ready for it but you have no choice now. You know he'll make you go to the doctor tomorrow and you can't use work as an excuse to worm your way out of it since it's one of your days off. You have to tell him tomorrow. The next hour was spent pondering what you would say to him and all the different ways he might react. Eventually, exhausted both physically and mentally you drift off into an uneasy sleep.

******

"You're what?!" Pedro's voice reached a pitch you didn't realise he was capable of. His earthy brown eyes were as wide as saucers and his jaw hung slack. Your eyes dart to your feet as you feel your cheeks burn and your fingers begin to tap the sides of your hips in anticipation. "I'm.... pregnant," you repeated, voice shaking. "I don't know what happened. The pill has never failed in the past-" "We'll it fucking has now, hasn't it!" He shot you a choleric look. "Or maybe you just weren't careful." "Excuse me?!" You snapped back with furrowed brows. "Don't you dare blame this on me. I never missed one pill and we always used extra protection when needed. You know that!" "I don't know anything right now!" Pedro shouted through his hands which were now rubbing his face in exasperation. "Well I didn't make this baby all by myself so don't put this all on me!" Hot tears begin to cascade down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. "I just.... FUCK!" Pedro cried out, booting one of the kitchen stools, making you jump.

"We can't do this. I can't do this." "Well it's too late now," you huff at him with your arms folded across your chest. "Not if we don't want it to be," he stated flatly. Your eyes widened and your heart clenched at his cold demeanour, causing you to instinctively place your hands across the small swell of your belly in protection. "I'm not getting rid of it Ped. I.... I can't," you exclaimed. "Y/N," Pedro sighed, shaking his head "This would change our lives completely. Neither one of us has the time for such a huge commitment and-" "I don't care," you cut him off sharply, fixing him with daggers. "I'm not getting rid of it. If it means I have to work part time then it's something I'm prepared to do." Pedro threw his head back to look at the ceiling, seemingly annoyed at your obstinate determination. You continue, "Weather we like it or not this is happening and we need -" "No it's not." He quickly stated, with finality. You stare at him dumbfounded. "What?!" "I'm not doing this. If you want to keep it you'll have to do it alone. I never wanted this and you know it." He returned your own words to you with clear contempt.

You open your mouth to say something, anything but words have now failed you. Your brain is unable to form a coherent sentence as the realisation of his words hit you like a punch to your gut. You feel numb as your heart shatters piercing your soul. He can't mean it! He's just upset, you try to rationalise internally, still to shocked to speak. Pedro turned away from you, grabbed his car keys off the kitchen island and stormed to the front door. "Make sure you're gone before I get back," he demanded in an emotionless tone. Seeing him walk away from you, immediately loosened your frozen tongue. "Baby wait!" you sobbed after him as he slammed the door shut without a backward glance. You instantly drop to your knees on the cold kitchen tiles, embracing yourself as your grief becomes unbearable. Your head begins to spin as you try to suck in deep breaths. It's no use. The despair is now consuming you, seeping into every crevice of your being, gripping you and tearing you apart. "Y/N?" You continue to sob. "Y/N?!" The familiar voice sounds muffled through your tormented cries and you can feel phantom hands gently shaking your shoulders. "Y/N?! Baby wake up, wake up. Look at me!"

You gasp as your eyes snap open. You are met with concerned caramel eyes, glowing in the dim lamp light. Pedro was leaning over your body, holding onto both of your shoulders. "It's okay. It was just a bad dream," Pedro soothed you while cupping your cheek. The feel of his warm skin against yours brought a sense of calm to your confused and distressed state, helping you to catch your breath. He sat up, slowly pulling you up with him. "Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me. What the hell happened?" he asked nervously as he wiped away a mixture of cold sweat and tears that had soaked your face. "I...," your voice gave out as you realised it was nothing more than a nightmare and the man you love is right here beside you. "I... can't remember." Your voice didn't sound convincing at all, and Pedro's raised eyebrow told you that he wasn't convinced either. "You're pretty shaken up sweetheart. You can tell me." "It's just a blur now." You choke out, wrapping an arm around his broad, tanned chest and leaning into his shoulder. "Okay," Pedro replied, still sounding unsure. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you snuggle into his neck as you both lay back down. You wrap your arm and legs around him like a baby koala, desperate for some comfort and reassurance that he indeed hasn't left you. "I've got you," he whispered, while holding you firmly and stroking your hair. "Let's go back to sleep."

*****

The sunlight spills in as the curtains lazily blow due to the partially open window. Your eyelids are heavy from the lack of sleep. Groaning you turn to the bedside table to check the time. 11:30am. "Shit," you mumble while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You never sleep this late. You throw the quilt off and sit up slowly, the nausea returning as you do. Downstairs you can hear Pedro in the kitchen. "Okay, let's get this over with," you sigh, knowing you can no longer avoid the inevitable. As you approach the kitchen you stop and lean against the door frame with your arms crossed. Pedro's back is to you and you take the opportunity to just watch him, appreciate him and contemplate just how much you love him. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you just absorb the mere presence of him. But as soon as the smile appears it evaporates as the nausea increases momentarily, pulling you back to the here and now, reminding you of what you must do. In a few minutes everything will drastically change for the both of you.

Images from last night's dream flash before you, making your heart race slightly and your palms sweaty. A part of you knows deep down that Pedro would never treat you so cruelly and walk out on you, but it would be a lie to say the dream didn't shake you and make you feel somewhat apprehensive at this moment. "Hey darling," Pedro smiles as he turns to see you idling in the doorway. "How long have you been standing there?" "Not long," you shrug with a wan smile. He set his coffee mug on the counter and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. In return you run your hands up his arms, gently holding onto his triceps. "How are you feeling?" He asks with a creased brow. "Okay." An obvious lie. "Why didn't you wake me?" "Figured you needed some extra time since you didn't sleep much last night. I felt you toss and turn all night long." Worry and unease laced his voice. A few moments of silence pass before you clear your throat. "Baby, can we talk?" "About what?" he enquires with trepidation. "Just come with me," you exhale softly as you lead him by his hand into the living room to sit next to you on the settee.

With a deep breath you turn to face him, and feel your heartbeat quicken while twitching your fingers in your lap. A nervous habit of your that Pedro knows all to well. He places his soft palm over your fumbling hands to calm you. "You're making me nervous Y/N. Please just tell me what's wrong," he all but begs you. "I uh... I don't know how else to say this so I'll just say it..... I'm pregnant." Shock adorns Pedro's features as his hand slips off of yours. The cold feeling of emptiness where his warm hand had just been resting caused your breath to catch in your chest. You couldn't hold his gaze any longer and dropped your head, anxiety threatening to consume you. You wait with a sense of dread for his possibly angry or fearful reaction but are caught off guard when he delicately takes both of your hands in his, causing you to look up at him in anticipation. "Are you sure?" He whispers, his voice shaking slightly. "Yes," you nod. "I took four tests...all positive. I'm so sorry...." You began to ramble, "I didn't mean for this to happen. I don't know how it did. I know you never wanted-" "Hey, hey shhhh.... take a breath." Pedro cooed as he pulled you into his chest, cupping the back of your head with one hand and smoothing up and down your back with the other.

You begin to weep desperately as the past weeks' tension and worry finally break through the mental and emotional dam you had built within. "I'm sorry," you wail into his shoulder, chest shuddering as you try to regain some semblance of self control. Pedro cradles both of your cheeks in his hands and pulls you upright to look into your weary eyes. "Why are you apologising? Last time I checked it takes two to make a baby. You are no more responsible for this than I am, so please stop saying you're sorry." Your breaths become less laboured as his thumbs smooth small circles over your cheeks, the action soothing and reassuring. "It's just.... I know you never wanted kids..." You begin in a slightly exhausted tone. "I just don't know what else to say except.... I'm sorry." Pedro takes a a deep breath. "It's true I've never seen myself becoming a dad, and I never would have purposely had a baby," you look down and nod in understanding, feeling guilty for putting him in this situation. "But..." He tilt's your chin up to make eye contact with you again. "If it was going to happen, I'd only want it to happen with you."

The sincerity of his words took you by surprise. "Really?" You ask astonished. "Really." he assures you. "Is this why you've been acting so strange and been so sick lately?" You gulp and nod once. "How long have you known?" "A couple of weeks," you confess quietly. "And you kept it to yourself all this time?" It was more of a statement than a question. "You should have told me straight away. You never should have had to go through this alone," Pedro said with a hint of sadness in his voice. "I was scared" You admit somewhat timidly. "I was scared of what this would mean for us. I was scared because I want to keep it." Pedro smiled softly. "You know I'll support you no matter what, right?" "I know." A relieved smile made it way onto your face. "Was what happened last night anything to do with this?" Pedro questioned while reaching for your hand. "Yeah, but it doesn't matter now." You try to shrug the question off. "Tell me. I wanna know." "You.... you got angry," you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "You blamed me, told me I'd have to do this alone and... you left."

Pedro's shoulders slumped as you finished speaking. "You didn't think I'd actually do something like that, did you?" The hurt in his voice was clear and it broke your heart. "No! no of course not," you cut in quickly. It wasn't a lie. You know what kind of man Pedro is and that he'd never hurt you like that. "I guess it was just all the stress and worry coming out in that dream. I know you and I know you love me. I know you'd never do anything like that." His face visibly relaxed hearing you confirm what he already knew to be true. "I do love you, baby. I know this is a huge change but we'll make it work. I promise." "I just don't want you to ever resent me or feel trapped-" "Shhhh..." he gently interrupted. "I could never feel that way, okay?" His voice left no room for any doubt. "I love you so much," you exclaimed, eyes beginning to fill again, but this time from relief and happiness. "I love you too, darling," Pedro whispered as he pressed his lips to yours. After several seconds he pulls away to look down at your belly, noticing the tiny bump through your pyjama top for the first time. "Can I?" He asks almost shyly. "You don't ever need to ask," you laugh with adoration. You take his hand and gently place it over the swell of your belly, watching as his eyes widen in amazement. "Wow!" He breathes out in awe. You both look at each other, eyes conveying the love you have for one another and now for this little one. The stress that had plagued you for the past two weeks began to dissipate like fog being burned away by the sun. The uncertainty of such a life altering future hung in the air but you know that together you can both handle whatever that future brings.

Oh Mama A Continuation

[eljeebee]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Do you have a process for making your simblr posts?

- an anon ask contribution for @simblr-question-of-the-day (Hi squat!)

I decided to do a separate post, just like what @changingplumbob did a question ago!

Since I mostly do story posts, here is my workflow:

a.) I draft the next story updates. Nothing serious, nothing deep. Just a rough draft that I want to happen. I have drafts in my laptop,

as well as in my phone [spoilers? lol]

Sometimes just one paragraph, or two, as long as I get the gist of it. This draft will be the basis when it comes to shooting the scenes.

b.) Before taking the scenes, I make sure that I have the poses and some specific clothes that I want and need. When it comes to clothing, it's rare that I use specific clothes on some scenes, because I have tons of CC in my mod folder, but I download it in advance. Some of it are already download in advance (that is not yet needed now, but is used far in the future)

b.1.) Sometimes, when I need a certain portrait of a character for a scene that is from a different save file, I make sure I do that first before I load the main save.

b.2.) When I need a certain build for the scenes, I have to build it myself. This is evident with the Strauds' nightclub and the Beau-Asvang's penthouse. It took me weeks to finish these. This is tedious for me, so some updates gets delayed, especially when I feel overwhelmed or bored.

c.) After that, I shoot the scenes. I base my scenes on the draft. This is another tedious part for me, especially if it involves a lot of characters. Sometimes, it has to be in a certain time of day. I don't mess time in that save, because I fear I'll mess up the calendar, so I rely in the fast forward function. The only thing that I mess with it is the weather. It can take me a whole IRL day, or a few days to finish this step.

d.) After taking the scenes, I choose which shots are the best, then delete the rest. I don't edit the photos because the reshade preset I use was made to skip editing it, but will only edit if necessary. No resizing is done (sorry if I'm lazy ;-;).

e.) In this step, the draft that was written before will be finalized once the scenes are done. Most of the time, the drafts get changed, because I change the parts of the story based on the scenes I took. The whole essence or message of the story doesn't change, only the flow and how I structured it will be modified. The finalized script is written in MS Word. A tip for everyone: type the tags you're going to use for the post in the document, so all you have to do is to copy the tags and paste it here in the text editor!

f.) Next, I'll upload the scenes and the script here in my Tumblr drafts. Sometimes, I break the scenes in separate posts, but sometimes I post it in one, depending on the story and the flow.

g.) Finally, I either: queue the posts, or I post it myself. I post the posts that has the "previous | next" links myself, because I want to quickly add the links as soon as I post it. I only queue on some posts, namely Beneath, and New Beginnings.

Again, this is my workflow when it comes to story posts! Gameplay posts like The Life of the Hatcher only get captioned based on the shots, and is not as heavily planned as the DLU (Davis Legacy Universe).

If you've reached the end of the post, thanks for reading! I hope you find this helpful!

[red-prince]

hey! im new to f1 and i really love ferrari! i saw ur blog and i saw the ferrari iphone wallpaper+widgets u share the other day and im so in love with it! can u do a tutorial on how to do it? it would be so great if u can! but if not its oke! im getting a new phone so i really wanna decorate it like how u did!😭 thank you💕

Hi! I’m happy that You liked them 😅

You mean those widgets?

If so, well, it’s not so hard to get them!

There is an app called „Box Box”, just download it and the rest is very simple.

You choose Your favourite constructor and driver (doesn’t have to be the same team but if You like ferrari then my condolences… i mean that’s great 😅)

then you go to your wallpaper settings (double click — one fast and one longer — on your locked screen wallpaper when the phone is unlocked) the you click the button „customize” (i don’t really know if it’s called like that in english but it’s the biggest button down the screen)

then it’s simple, you click on „add widgets” and then choose the app „Box Box” and voilà!

And if it comes to wallpapers, I always use the photos that fit in the „wallpaper cut” in the phone’s photo editor

I’ll drop some photos that I’m currently using as wallpapers for You if You want to use them!

(maybe I’m going to the post only with wallpapers because I have some more)

[jucyfruit]

‘Media Is the Third Parent’: A Conversation With Lucy Dacus

by Justin Joffe | 2/22/17

The music that we love is an accumulation of narratives. The stories those songs tell, the memories they create for us and the truths that their writers have lived all become an important rubber band ball of context and experience, informing our connection to them in ways we don’t always immediately get.

So when a young artist emerges from the formless depths of adolescence near-fully formed, the narrative starts taking shape even before we understand it. Cries of nepotism, entitlement, and business collusion often drown out the true origin story of someone who takes to a big stage so all of a sudden, whether or not those cries have any merit. And in the case of Lucy Dacus, a 21-year old singer/songwriter from Richmond Virginia with a remarkably deep and powerful voice, no such assumptions about her recent ascension ring the least bit true.

Adopted at a young age and creatively nurtured by her piano-playing mother, Dacus’ musicality was embedded in her home life from the get go. Her debut, No Burden, was recorded by her guitarist Jacob Blizard as part of his winter project at music school Oberlin and released by hometown label EggHunt Records last February. Almost immediately, Dacus’ husky alto caught the attention of larger labels—over 20 of them—requiring her to take some time sifting through the muck and the mud, fielding offers and inquiries guided largely by her convictions and her gut.

Six months later she signed with venerable independent label Matador Records, and their reissue of Dacus’ No Burden last fall gave hope to this whole generation of self-starters. Dacus’ reverb-drenched, alt-country-dusted songs cut to the question of how an artist in the public eye can still live away from what Sartre called “the gaze of the other”, free from expectations of beauty or lapses in trust, living and working only by the standards they set for themselves.

We caught up over the phone to discuss what it means to take personal agency over your work in a time when art and politics seem pretty much inseparable.

How ya doin’?

Good, I’m in Canada! Hopefully my connection will be good, but if it starts to break up I’ll blame it on that.

So, were you looking at a hearse or a limousine? That lyric of yours reminds me of one of my favorite Leonard Cohen lyrics, “Thought I saw an eagle, but it might have been a vulture, never could decide.”

Yeah, that one’s really good.

Much of your album speaks to trust and navigating uncharted waters, but can you unpack that rhetorical question for me?

I guess the point of that song, “Troublemaker, Doppelganger” is trying to navigate the worth of beauty, and if it’s hurtful or helpful to value beauty. If it’s a curse or a blessing. Is that something really negative and morbid, like the hearse, or is it the limousine—a glamorous symbol of enjoying life?

I’m trying to connect how your interest in the aesthetic side of media, between your time in film school and your time as a photo editor, has informed your perspective on our habits of consumption and decision making. Is that something that weighs on your mind often?

Yeah! The media, and how we’re taught to read it, has a huge impact on who we become as people. When you’re a kid you learn whatever your parents think, until you start taking in media. Because all your friends are your age as well, media is the third parent that you ever have. So I think about that a lot, what visual imagery is teaching us, and media in general having a huge impact. But it’s ambiguous—if you haven’t learned the cultural symbolism where media is coming from, it can be really confusing.

You said that you felt this record was possible because you went into it without any expectations, during the writing and recording process. But the minute any work is released to the public, media expectations become imposed upon us. I guess it’s what Sartre called “the gaze of the other”. How do you keep that purity of intention during your process while operating inside someone else’s media infrastructure, an infrastructure that you didn’t build? It’s something I feel that you’re in a particularly great place to help us with.

[Laughs] A lot of the songs for the next record were actually written well before we spoke to a label or had any kind of coverage, so at least for the next record, I haven’t had to deal with that. But of course I’m still writing, and I think the biggest aspect of it that keeps me from catering to our current infrastructure is not trying to write. I don’t ever sit down and say, “OK, I need to write a song” or “I need to crank something out” or “I have to make something that will satisfy the people around me.” That’s never been a concern, I don’t think that should be a concern, and it means I maybe don’t write at a quick pace anymore, but everything that I do write is stuff that just comes to me the way any other thought does. So far it doesn’t feel like anything that I’ve written is compromised by the fact that we have a label now.

You’ve spoken about how you had to develop a bit more business acumen after this album was finished and you were shopping your project around a bit. Do you almost learn those things so that you can know when you don’t have to use them, in a way? When you don’t have to have your guard up with them?

Yeah, I really enjoy navigating the business aspect of having a band, and there is a great amount of instinct. You don’t wanna work with people who make you feel weird, even if they’re super qualified. You don’t want to feel like you’re being used by anybody, even though you are submitting to that in some way, in some mutual using of whoever you end up working with. But there’s a fine line that’s hard to describe between being taken advantage of and having a partnership. I feel like that might be different for everybody, but I would just suggest that anyone getting into this take their time and compare a lot of different companies or whatever you’re choosing. Be comparative about decision making , because you don’t have to rush into things.

That ties into the themes of trust on this record, too, which is funny because you wrote these songs before having to navigate those waters. You wrote, “I wanna live in a world where I can keep my doors open, but who knows what’d get in and what’d get out.” Would it be a stretch to connect that lyric toward your path of ascension in the music sphere, toward your approach to how you present yourself? Are you talking about trust in the abstract here?

Absolutely. The more you learn the more wise you’re supposed to be, but I still reflect upon myself as a child, or even just myself pre-audience, kind of contemplating on where my creativity came from at that point and always trying to stay connected to why I originally started writing. I did write that song a while ago, but luckily it still rings true.

I talked to Joe Steinhardt of Don Giovanni a few weeks ago, and he’s of the mind that the big three media companies are turning into the big three tech companies, insofar as Apple, Google and Amazon are eating whole industries of art, commerce and media. It got me wondering what we can do. Now obviously you’re on Matador, and they have a great reputation around doing right for their artists’ sustainability. What are you, and they, doing right when it comes to giving artists some agency over their own work?

I guess there’s two ways to approach this question. There’s technically retaining the rights to your own music, being structurally independent and not feeding into major labels or major companies, but then there’s also this idea of retaining agency in a more metaphysical sense.

I think both are important. Matador’s an independent label, which was part of the reason that we chose them. Myself, I feel like I still have ownership over my own work. Like I said, you just have to retain your writing process and not force anything. That’s what helps me feel like I still have a handle on what I make—it’s coming from me because of me, not because of anything else.

On top of that, I really like and respect bands that do more than just the typical structuring of recording, releasing and touring an album. Bands that are socially active, bands that are not afraid to talk about their belief systems explicitly. I’ve been inspired by that, and that feels like not just taking agency over your own work, but taking agency over the responsibility that you’ve been granted by a fanbase. Really contemplating your fanbase and being present with the people who listen to your music.

That begs the very timely and topical question, too—if all art comes from culture, and cultures are being stigmatized right now, then isn’t all art political? The question’s kind of irrelevant when the creative class is kind of a marginalized community in its own right, but I guess I’m just wondering how your value system responds to right now, as you come into the creative class professionally at a time when a lot of people are freaking out about the abolishment of the National Endowment of the Arts and similar public-funded avenues for creative programs or dialogues. What’s your role in pushing back against that?

The solution we came up with as a band for this tour was raising money for local charities at each of the shows that we’ve been playing. That feels like a pretty effective form of activism so far, but beyond that, I would hope that the music we make and tour causes people to consider not necessarily the specific current events happening around the world, but what’s behind them—power struggles, contemptment and these other things behind the negativity that we see, a lack of fulfillment in people.

It’s nobody’s actual job, but I personally admire people who see it as their responsibility. Whether its actual resources going to real life projects, charities or charities, that’s one piece of it. But like I said, the content of the music can really change people’s mindset, and I know that I’ve definitely been changed by some musicians and lyrics that I’ve heard. Like I said, media is the third parent to anybody. I would just hope that people write things that call for more thought instead of less thought. That could make a huge difference.

(x)

[salchat]

Dean-in-progress Part 2

More adventures in the continuing development of my latest Dean portrait!

In this stage, I did a little bit more work on his mouth and chin, which I wasn't happy with at all.

And then, enough's enough with the dark purple. I need to work on the light, which will give me a better idea of the form. I know if I put light in, I'll somehow see it differently. And maybe some brown mid-tones. Both of these ideas might be a mistake, of course! It might be more effective with just the dark purple on the purple paper. But I'm doing it anyway! Yay!

Oh. Okay. Well, I think that was the right thing to do. Especially the hint of brown on his lower lip. It think the brown might be good for kind of reflected light? For softening edges maybe and for bringing life to the colour scheme. Or it could, of course, go horribly wrong. But that's half the fun.

Let's do some more. And, for the next progress shot, I'll edit so that it looks more like what I actually see.

Well, I think this is making good progress. Am I satisfied with it as a finished portrait? Not remotely! And now (rubs hands together), now comes the stage that always reminds me of that bit in Amadeus, where Mozart's dictating the Confutatis of his Requiem to Salieri. No, I'm not comparing my artistic skill to Mozart's musical genius (snort, chortle), but as a teen I had a massive crush on Mozart (yes, really) and I loved that movie, even though a lot of it is dramatic licence. Anyway, I get to a stage in many of my drawings where the big chunkies and finger smudges aren't quite cutting it. And so I bring in the pencils! And it always makes me think of Salieri asking, 'That's it?" And Mozart replies, with a smirk, 'No. Now for the real fire." The pencils!

All these options... I think the Payne's grey, which is actually a dark purple, like the chunky pastel I've been using. And for something pretty bright and luminous, actually that pale pink one is usually effective.

But don't be thinking I'm going to be holding the pencils in a writing grip and getting all tiny and delicate and detailed. Oh no! That's just not me!

Mostly, I like to grab hold and scrub using an overhand grip with lots of pressure. The only time I really need to use a writing grip is when I want a really strong highlight in a very specific small area and if I stuck with the overhand grip, I'd probably either miss my mark, or more likely break the tip off. I do that all the time! There's lots of vague, light softening too, though, and that needs a looser grip, getting as much of the side of the pastel in contact with the paper as possible.

And here's my third main strategy, which sometimes ties me down too much to a photographic representation, but often is the way I spot errors, because after a while your eye just can't see them. I bring up my progress shot and the original reference alongside, like this:

My poor phone gets very confused, but look how easy it is to spot the glaring, obvious discrepancies! I mean, wtaf? For heaven's sake - what have I been doing? So, yeah, there are thing that look pretty okay, but that mouth! And that chin! Still not right, are they? And there's still not anywhere near enough Deanishness! I'm going to focus in on the eye, though, and see what I can do. And the reference won't enlarge, but if you do it in photo editor it will! Neat little trick! Aha!

And now some more work on his mouth and a general run-around with a soft skin-toned pastel to soften the edges. Or soften them in some places, because now I really need to think about which edges are hard and which are soft and how. It's a crucial stage and can make a massive difference. And I'm playing with his hair too, because playing with Dean's hair is so much fun.

So this is what I've got so far. Am I satisfied? No! I most certainly am not. It's getting there. But there are loads of things to improve on yet. And it's still not Deanish enough! It just isn't. Look back at the reference. His mouth and his eye in particular are expressing very familiar Deanisms, aren't they? Sadness, resignation, probably lots of internal negative thoughts - almost certainly in John Winchester's voice. And I haven't captured that. I'm not saying that in any 'oh no, I'm so bad!' way. I'm saying it with relish, because I'm going to keep plugging away until I can see that emotion and make it as real as possible. And I'm going to enjoy that process and disappear into it completely and get into an almost meditative state, where the world and my problems melt away.

But not tomorrow. Because tomorrow is chemo day and the one really big positive of chemo day is that there's so much hanging around that it's possible to get loads of fanfic written, which is another really great way (actually even more effective that drawing) of disappearing from this world entirely and living, for a while, with Sam and Dean and a tiny-Jack, and tomorrow I'll get to the bit where Cas pops up. Nice.

[copperbadge]

I guess you can only make polls on mobile, and the mobile/desktop incompatibility issue with regards to post editing means that if you post from desktop, you can’t reblog and add a poll, or at least I can’t. I just get the dumb “post went bloop” red banner. 

(ETA: I guess I’m an outlier in being unable to poll from Desktop -- doesn’t matter what editor, browser, or computer I’m using, it’s not an option for me.)

This is going to become an issue for me quite fast, as by policy I post from desktop unless it’s unavoidable. I can type using a phone keyboard but because I have large fingers it’s a giant pain in the ass and adding IDs to photos frequently takes me a frustratingly long time on mobile. Generally if I want to post a photo I post it privately to my tumblr, then go to desktop, copy the URL, and paste it into a desktop photo post.

So if you’re not seeing polls from me, trust me, it’s not that I don’t want to make them, it’s that Tumblr has instituted them in the most accessibility-unfriendly way possible.  

[buffyathena]

I’ll be All You Need and More

This is a little hurt/comfort fic I wanted to post since my current wip is a big one and is taking most of my time. I hope you like it!! You can also read it here. Thank you @momsthetic for betaing and encouraging me❤️

Anetra frowns when she opens the door into an empty apartment. There’s no trace of Sasha at all—no heels neatly placed by the door, no music or podcasts playing, no scent of the candles she loves to light at night.

Anetra pulls out her phone, trying not to worry. There’s nothing new, just the text Sasha sent her earlier this afternoon, saying that she’d be late because a meeting ran over. But it’s almost eight now—this is so late she might as well just spend the night in her office. Anetra doesn’t want Sasha to even get that idea, so she heads back to the car.

Anetra loses herself in thought as she makes the drive to the fashion magazine office. Sasha getting promoted to editor last month had been a dream come true for her. Sasha had been with the magazine since her modeling days, then moved onto photography, then layouts, then editing. She had been friends with some of her coworkers since the beginning, and it was the first job where she felt safe enough to come out.

The new position was a long time coming, something that Sasha had only confessed how much she wanted to Anetra, under safety of night when they were in bed together. Sasha didn’t want anyone else to know how badly she wanted it, didn’t want to speak the dream too loudly, just in case she didn’t get it.

Anetra never doubted for a minute that she would.

But the position has brought so much with it. They let Sasha get settled in her first month, and then things took off like a rocket. It’s summer, and the magazine is doing their annual double issue. An offshoot of the magazine wanted to do an interview and photo shoot with Sasha about the new position, and she’s been fretting about what they might ask her. The community center had asked her to come in and talk about careers with a group of queer kids, which left her scribbling notes on index cards for hours. The magazine’s annual gala was in five months, but planning had already begun, hence the color swatches and seating charts she carries around in a tote bag.

Anetra has done her best to support Sasha through the whole thing. She’s given her space when she needed to work on something at home, hyped her up when she had doubts. She’s taken care of dinner and most of the housework, taking whatever she could off Sasha’s plate. She thought it was enough, but lately Anetra feels like Sasha’s clawing her way through a wave, and Anetra isn’t doing enough to keep her from drowning.

Anetra’s light steps are magnified down the tile hallways. The office is deserted, all low lights and closed office doors, and Anetra’s skin prickles with that eerie feeling you get in an empty place, that tingle on the back of your neck like someone is watching you, someone who knows you shouldn’t be here. She shakes it off and strides to Sasha’s office.

The big corner office has two long windows, a long way from the cramped offices Sasha used to work in, bent over her desk and cringing every time she looked directly into the harsh overhead lights. Now, natural light probably comes in through her windows, and there’s space for a desk and two chairs.

Sasha jumps when Anetra knocks, nodding for her to come in. Anetra does, taking a closer look at Sasha, for the things other people would miss.

She’s wearing her glasses, which she only uses when her eyes are tired after a long day. She’s shed her blue blazer—the one that made her look so good that Anetra couldn’t resist kissing her this morning, stroking the blazer’s lapels—leaving her in just a gray T-shirt. Post-it notes cover her desk, with some hanging from the bottom of her computer screen like a row of flags. Her desk calendar glows with highlighter and is marked with scribbled-out dates and notes. There’s no time for her to fix her hair and clothes, to smooth out her expression, and it’s like Anetra’s caught her in the act of something.

“Hey,” Sasha says, running a hand through her hair, the red waves messy enough that Anetra knows she’s been doing it all day. The smile she gives Anetra is tired, doesn’t reach her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you. Do you know what time it is?” Anetra asks, keeping her voice light.

Sasha peeks at the corner of her computer screen, her eyes widening in disbelief and her lips tightening into a frown. “Fuck, I’m sorry. The investors wouldn’t shut up at the meeting, so that went really late, and then I got behind on my stuff, and a photographer needed to meet with me and review things before an assignment tonight. I didn’t–I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“You’ve been doing this a lot,” Anetra says, still calm. She doesn’t want to come off like she's attacking Sasha, doesn’t want to make her feel bad when this job is what she’s dreamt of for so long.

“I just have to get through this next month,” Sasha says, but there’s a slump of defeat in her posture. Almost like she doesn’t believe what she’s saying. “After that, it won’t be so much all at once.”

Anetra could believe her, sure. She’s believed her the past few weeks, believed that Sasha went to bed when she said she did, that she didn’t stay up working after Anetra was asleep. She’s believed the smiles and casual reassurances, believed that Sasha was okay, because Sasha’s always okay. But now, it’s like someone moved a veil from Anetra’s eyes, and Sasha isn’t okay. It feels like something she isn’t supposed to see, like when you’re a kid and see an adult doing something stupid and human. Like the world has tilted on its axis a little.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get through it like this,” Anetra says quietly.

Sasha stares at her. “I—“

“Sash, you’ve barely slept this week. You’ve barely slept since you started working here. You’re here late, and you’re stressed all the time.”

Sasha shrugs, and her face becomes the calm, strong one Anetra is used to. “I’m fine, I swear. I can handle lots of work like this. I’m fine.”

“You can talk to me, you know.”

Sasha doesn’t say anything.

“At least let me take you home,” Anetra says, softer, because she doesn’t like how Sasha’s hands are clenching, how she won’t meet Anetra’s eyes. Sasha is strong and stubborn but she’s never avoidant like this.

“I can’t mess this up.” Sasha never yells, but her voice is as close as she’ll let herself get to it, her shoulders shaking. “Most of the people here were so excited when I got it. They all told me I’m perfect for it. They expect so much from me, and I can’t let them down, can’t let them know I’m struggling. And I want to prove that I still deserve the job, that I didn’t just get it because I’ve been here a long time. I know some people here think that, and they’re probably waiting for me to mess up, so I can’t.”

Sasha staggers forward as her voice cracks, catching herself on her desk. She leans over, pulling off her glasses and resting her head on her hands, and Anetra’s heart tugs. Any anger she had over Sasha staying here late melts away, because underneath her perfect looks and all the perfect work she’s been putting out, she needs help right now. A soft place to land, put down her load.

Anetra walks over to her and pulls Sasha into her arms. “Hey, just breathe, okay?” she says.

It’s an invitation to Sasha, and she sags against Anetra, head dropping on her shoulder. Her head bears all the weight of her position and its expectations, all her worries, but Anetra is more than strong enough to hold them up. More than strong enough to hold Sasha up. She gently rubs Sasha’s back, feeling the rise and fall of her tense breaths.

“Maybe I’m not good enough for this job,” Sasha says. It’s soft and muffled, breathed into the safety of Anetra’s chest. She’s the only one Sasha trusts to hear those words, and it warms Anetra’s heart as much as it weighs it down.

Anetra pulls away, her hands on Sasha’s shoulders as she takes in her teary green eyes. “Sash, don’t say that. You are good enough for this job, I know you are. Please don’t doubt yourself.”

Sasha gives a shaky nod.

“I know it’s hard right now,” Anetra continues, “but you can do it. You have a whole team of people who believe in you. You can ask them to help you out a bit if you need to. And you have me.”

This gets a smile from Sasha, and she takes Anetra’s hands off her shoulders and squeezes them with her own. “Thank you,” she says softly.

“Of course.” Anetra checks her phone and gets an idea. “It’s almost 8:30. Let’s finish up what we can until then, and we’ll go home.”

Sasha nods gratefully. Anetra helps her answer old emails and draft upcoming ones, make a final choice for the gala color palette, and clear some time in her schedule to have lunch tomorrow.

“Is there anything else you need to finish up right now? Anything that really can’t wait until tomorrow?” Anetra asks.

Sasha glances at her desk, lost in thought. “No.”

Anetra nods. “Are you okay to go home?”

“Yeah,” Sasha says weakly.

“Okay.” Anetra gives her a gentle smile. “Let’s go home. You’re gonna shower, or take a bath, whatever you want. Then you’re gonna eat, because I know you didn’t have lunch, and go to bed. No arguing.”

“Okay.”

Anetra grabs Sasha’s bag for her, taking her hand. “I…I want to do more to help you, okay? I know I can’t help with everything, but I’ll help with whatever I can. I can help you review answers for that interview and the notes for the talk. I know it’s hard, but you can ask me for help.”

And Sasha could make a comment about how Anetra is one to talk, how Sasha has to help her on her own because Anetra won’t ask, but she doesn’t. She just nods, leaning forward to press her forehead to Anetra’s, like their love can be transferred through the touch.

“I’ll try, I promise. Thank you, Neech. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now let’s get out of here.”

Anetra leads Sasha out the door and into the night, holding her hand the whole time.

[alder-saan]

The Path of Poisons .4

Asphodel

Larissa Weems x gn! OC

The Path of Poisons masterlist . [01] . [02] . [03] . [04] . [05] . [06] . [07] . [08] . [09]

words count: ~1.8k

WARNING: I'm translating this from French to English. As it takes sooooo much time to do it myself, I use an automatic translator. BUT neutral doesn't exist in French so even if I proofread to change every "he/him/his" or "she/her/hers" in "they/them/their" I might miss some.

"Ugh, shit!"

"Well, I'm glad to see you too, Rei."

Rei looked up from their phone. Thalia was in front of them. This time she was wearing green overalls and a flowered shirt, with a braided straw hat to hide the snakes in her hair. The Weathervane was their usual meeting place, now that the summer holidays had begun. They met several times a week in the mornings to catch up on old times. After all, it had been almost five years since they had seen each other. Rei had dyed her hair red. A dark red, rather, so that the colour would look natural. He was wearing a cream shirt and brown trousers.

"Sorry, Thalia. It's my editor who says he can't edit my book at the moment, I still have to work on it. Except I'm going to start running out of money, you know? I was counting on the sales of this book to bail me out."

"Well, you know, there are ways around that."

"Like what?"

"A botany teaching job just opened up at Nevermore. And you're more than qualified."

Rei took a sip of their coffee.

"In botany, maybe. Not in teaching."

"Think about it, even if it's only temporary, it might make your situation a little more secure."

"I don't know if I really want to…"

see Larissa Weems again.

"to teach a bunch of insolent kids."

"They're very nice, for the most part. Besides, I can teach you a lesson if you like. We've got all holiday for that. Oh, I'll have a lie-down, please," she said, calling out to the waiter."

"Listen, it's nice of you, really, but I'd rather ask the florist if she doesn't want to hire me for a few months."

"As you wish. But know that if you change your mind, I can always plead your case to Mrs. Weems. She's very understanding, you'll see."

"I'm sure she is."

Their tone seemed a little dry. Thalia frowned.

"Hey, Rei. Just because you're having a bad day doesn't mean you have to be that nasty."

"Excuse me, this whole thing is getting on my nerves," they sighed.

"Well, do you have any plans for this morning?"

"I'm going to go to the florist."

"Oh, by the way! I found an old photo album of Nevermore from the years you were there but I don't see you… Wait a minute."

She rummaged in her huge backpack, pulling out various things: an umbrella, tissues, a water bottle, a jumper, another hat… and then the photo book. Rei took it and opened it. They searched for a few moments before pointing to a picture of a darker-skinned girl with disheveled black hair, wearing a uniform that was half-stained and torn in some places.

"Oh. My. God. Is that really you?"

"Haha, yeah, no wonder you don't recognize me. I don't think anyone would guess it's me."

"But you've had surgery?"

"Not at all, and that's the crazy part, I just changed a lot."

"Now that you mention it… But it looks like you've changed your ethnicity. In this picture, you say you are a Cree, I believe you. But today, your white-passing spoils everything."

"Yes, I don't know why it did that," they laughed, "miscegenation sometimes has strange results."

They turned a few pages and found themselves better combed, but still wearing the same shabby uniform. Next to them was Larissa Weems, with her arms wrapped around them, as if to cuddle them.

"Oh! That's Larissa! She's changed very little, though. Well, she has, a little, but you can tell. You look close in this photo."

Well, it's… It was probably time for that talk. In any case, Rei couldn't hide their past with Larissa forever. They leaned their back on the backrest, crossed their arms and legs, and looked outside, staring blankly.

"To tell you the truth, we were. But we didn't leave each other on very good terms. I'd even say it was on very bad terms."

"Oh, really? Why would you say that?"

"I don't want to tell you. Thirty years have passed, Larissa Weems then and Larissa Weems now are not the same person. What she did is in the past now. I hope she wouldn't do the same thing today."

Thalia had a pout on her face that meant "I'm worried about you… and I like gossip, too"

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I'm sure. Especially as she's your boss, I don't want to put her life on display in front of you. And to be honest, she's the reason I don't want to be a teacher there. I don't want to see her again."

"But still, at the hospital…"

"She was sleeping. And then you know my curiosity. I wanted to see how much she had changed, physically at least. Please don't tell her I'm back. Don't tell her it was me. I think she'd be uncomfortable, too."

Rei laughed nervously.

"To be honest, I don't know if I would have moved back if I'd known she was there. Anyway, now that I have, I'm not going to move again just for her."

Speaking of the devil…

Rei turned pale. Mrs. Weems had just passed the window and was heading towards the entrance. They motioned to Thalia to put the open book away, and pretended to drink their coffee peacefully. Their friend did not understand such a reaction, she had not seen Larissa, as her back was to the entrance. Mrs Weems went first to the counter to order and then saw her colleague

"Oh, hello Mrs Kedlan!"

Thalia understood.

"Hello Mrs. Weems, this is my friend, who I think I've already told you about."

"Raine Asphodelus, nice to meet you," Rei agreed, standing up and holding out her hand to the tall woman.

"Likewise, Larissa Weems," she replied, shaking their hand.

They had agreed with their friend and former colleague Raine Asphodelus, author of The Book of Plants and Legends, to impersonate each other if the situation called for it. It was Raine who started it by impersonating Rei to the brother of one of their exes who came to beat them up.

"I wanted to thank you personally for buying me these flowers. It was very kind of you."

"It's nothing, I hope you like shrubby everlastings. These flowers are not to everyone's taste."

"I especially liked the symbolism."

The principal smiles. Shit. Larissa had become so beautiful. And then her eyes… Her eyes. It just brought back all the feelings they'd had for her in the past. Her outfit fit her so well, as if it had been made just for her, a very light blue that only enhanced the blue of her eyes. 'Pull yourself together, Rei,' they thought, swallowing their saliva.

"Dearest, are you all right? You don't look fine…"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm just a bit lost here, I haven't been here long."

"Oh, when did you arrive?"

"The night you were attacked, I think. That's terrible, you were very lucky to get away…"

The waiter gave Mrs Weems her order.

"Very lucky that Avareïda Hydrurga had the idea of writing a book on poisoned plants I'd have to contact her again, by the way and have a student who had read it find me. I'll leave you now, I have to tell the police about my attack. I only came to get a coffee to go. Have a nice day. Oh, Thalia, I'll be calling a meeting for Mrs Thornhill's replacement soon, so I'll email you a schedule so you can all vote on what time works best for you."

"No problem, Larissa. Have a good day."

"Have a good day too."

The woman left. Rei fell back in the seat.

"FUCK."

"That's clever, I'll have to call you Raine now," Thalia said sarcastically

"You can keep calling me Rei and it won't be a problem."

They slumped on the table, one cheek against the wood, both arms on the seat.

"Why does she have to be THAT beautiful?"

"Wouldn't you like to give her another chance? I mean, professionally speaking… I'm telling you, she's a really good person. She helped me a lot when I was having problems with my family. And then she didn't recognise you!"

"I'll think about it… But if I accept, it's under the name of Raine Asphodelus. I really don't want her to know it's me."

Larissa was walking back to Nevermore, a little confused. Raine, huh? There was something about them she liked. Their eyes, maybe. She parked her car and got out. She liked this stranger. Maybe she was going to ask Thalia for their contact… She wanted to have fun, to get to know someone. Her near-death experience had opened her eyes. She didn't want to end her life alone. She wanted to find someone. She went upstairs to her office and walked to a door next to the fireplace. On the other side was the room she slept in during the week. She looked in the mirror. She had grown old. She should have done something about it before. Besides, most people her age were either already with someone or didn't want anyone. She felt ridiculous. Not attractive enough. Too old. She felt like she was waking up after a battle.

And then she remembered Ava.

Ava wore what she liked, even if her clothes had holes in them. Ava was strong. Ava didn't care what others thought. And that was why she liked her. She wanted to be like her. She walked out of her room and out of her office. It was strange, the empty corridors. Every major holiday she felt a little empty. But she still had work to do. She had to look at all the admission files for the next year. So there was no time to daydream.

______________________________________

The romance officially begins!

[stormyoceans]

in which app do u make these hearts?🥺

https://64.media.tumblr.com/9f4c725ef1fdaf0d06848651563f1c06/cc083066424c0412-a2/s1280x1920/d7039bad1aa5711450b932ace0f7663f289ccb74.jpg

hi, anon!!!!

i actually use the photo editor that’s already pre-installed within the gallery in my phone, which is an old xiaomi, so nothing fancy, but it has these cute stickers i can put on pics, including those hearts, and then i usually just add some emojis with the text option to fill in the empty spaces ;;;;;;

maybe you could check if your phone has something like that too!!!

if it doesn’t, i looked up some photo editor apps and tried them out to see if you can get a similar result, so here's what i got:

1. PicsArt. definitely the best out of all the ones i found, you can search for all kind of stickers and even edit them a little. a lot of them are only for the pro account, but there are also tons of free ones. the only thing i don’t like is that it has a built in AI editor and im firmly against anything AI related, but i still wanted to give you the option

(i now realize this doesn’t look the best, but it’s entirely my fault for panicking when there are too many options ;;;;;;;)

2. doodle shape. there are only black and white stickers, but the hearts selection is pretty great. sometimes i actually do use this one if i want more variety

3. FotoRus. the sticker selection is limited, but you can still come up with something nice

4. line camera. you have to hunt down the heart stickers in different packets from the free selection, but the result can be very cute

unfortunately these are all i could find, but as i said my phone is pretty old and also an android, so it’s entirely possible that there are better apps out there to do this

if anyone has any good photo editor apps to rec, please leave the name here so anon can find them!!!!!!

[starlightkun]

hiiii mel <3 i’m.. thinking of starting to write for nct.. mostly jaemin.. and i more or less have an idea for formatting but it’s been a really long time since i’ve had to do graphics for fic’s (like the banner and stuff!) and i was wondering if you had any tips for that? like where to find good pictures (solid backgrounds seem like the best choice for not clashing with the lettering, a problem i ran into unfortunately…) and also is there any particular place you get your fonts from? if you aren’t comfortable answering that (or any of this!) then that’s totally ok and feel free to just give general advice or ignore this completely :]

now i leave you with renjun… https://www.instagram.com/reel/C117-m9JGuo/?igsh=aXI1YmZ6M2YycHg1

hiii! under the cut!

so you've already got a good idea with using solid backgrounds for fic headers to make it easier for the text to show up! i source pretty much all my images from the groups/idols' official social medias. i just caution you not to take screenshots of say, instagram uploads, because this will degrade the quality of the image. either download it from twitter or wherehaveyou, or from an updates account like neocatharsis or wayvment here on tumblr! another word of caution: DO NOT DOWNLOAD TEASER IMAGES/PHOTOSHOOT IMAGES FROM CONTENT CREATORS WHO MAKE EDITS TO THE IMAGES, SUCH AS CHANGING THE COLORS, UN-WHITEWASHING, ETC., WITHOUT THEIR PERMISSION. THAT IS THEFT FROM OTHER FANS. updates accounts like neocatharsis and wayvment simply reupload the original images posted by the entertainment company/idol in the exact same form without making changes to them. editors make alterations to the image and that new image is their own creative work, separate from the original one posted. you need the editor's explicit permission in order to use their edited version as a fic header.

i do all of my editing on my phone for my fics (except for the thin section dividers that i use, which i make in pirated photoshop cs6 so i can get specific dimensions, 540x2 pixels, and make the gradients super quick in a way that i know how to do. there may be a super easy way to do this w an app on ur phone too, that's just how i know how to)

anyway, if i have a photo that i really like, that i just knowwwww matches with the image of the guy in the fic in my head or smth, that i just rlly want to use but has a busier background, sometimes i'll use the portrait editing settings on my phone to blur the background a little bit and that makes the text a lot more legible (i have a samsung but im 99% sure iphones can do this too)

i typically don't bump it past 1 or 2, or the edges of the blur start looking a bit harsh, and i find that i don't really need more than this for the text to pop against the background anyway!

as for putting the text on the photos, i've the used the app phonto for years! it's completely free, doesn't put any watermark on your photos, comes with a bunch of fonts pre-installed, isn't super ad-heavy (it has a rlly small banner ad all the time at the top, and only shows u a skippable 10s ad when u save a finished photo), and you can download fonts from the internet to install straight into the app!

my favorite free font website is dafont.com, i literally will spend hours just browsing on there looking at fonts to download lmao. anyway here's how i find fonts for stuff and download, install, and use them with dafont and phonto:

once you have phonto downloaded, open dafont.com

up at the top, it has a bunch of different categories of fonts. for this example, i chose fancy > groovy, and then on this first page, i liked this font called "lostar" (there's also a search bar up there, but it only searches font names, not kinds of fonts, so if you're looking for a groovy-feeling font and you searched "groovy," only fonts with the word "groovy" in the name would come up)

i then press download, and open in my browser (i use firefox btw, which is why it looks like this lol). make sure you're opening the .zip file with the phonto app (it opens directly into into phonto on my phone, you may have to choose to open the .zip file using the phonto app from several options, instead of your phone's file explorer or some other app on your phone)

in the phonto app, you have to click install, then install again (it gives you the option to rename it, but i just keep the original font name bc why would you rename it?).

that READ THIS.txt file is a message from the font maker, it's the personal use license for the font (most of the fonts on dafont.com are free for personal use ONLY, and these .txt files that are contained in the .zip files are notes from the font makers telling u what u can and can't use the fonts for. generally, as long as ur not a business, u should be good this is not legal advice, please read them. also there's usually little thank you notes from the font makers in here as well!)

click ok.

then you've got to slap some text on an image. you can choose an image from your camera roll, use one of their plain images, or open a pre-saved work-in-progress. for this example i used one of their premade gradients to make it easy

type whatever it is you want, click font. the left tab is the pre-installed fonts, the middle tab is the fonts that you've downloaded from elsewhere. here's the lostar we just got!

oh can't see it.

there we go! how fun! i'll probably use this in a fic header in the future. download button in the top right.

[ruth-the-artblog]

Hey @ari-shipping-stuff i thought i would answer everything in a seperate post so i can compile things easier fkjdkdidhdidjd

1- Yeah the saturation is edited :> I was going for a sunset vibe. Which is Extra Eerie in school because we always go before sunset. The original is regular window light + shadows. I'll put the og one at the readmore at the bottom. Also tbh i been using mostly pens for drawing to prevent me from constantly fixing mistakes in comics. Kkdhdkdjkdjdkjd

Oml those fucking windows. I hated them so much. As a public school student, they were in all my schools.

These, but much less clean (im talking CAKED in dust) and half the windows were broken/the glass panel is half hanging out of the frame. It was such a hazard to clean tbh because it was so easy to push out a loose panel. AND WE SAT NEXT TO THOSE BITCHES 🤡🤡🤡🤡

2- Thanks :> i also liked how it turned out with the blue pen and orange lights. I think the reason my drawings are rly expressive is because i like to draw those the most kdhdkdhdkd

3- kdhddkdjdkdjdjdkdjd with how much eyes it has, you def could hit one of them square in the eye

4- It's a karaoke room im leaving a photo under the readmore for reference. I kinda just based it off how i remembered it. Now that i think about it im not sure if there was a disco ball, but in my heart there sure is. The things on the table are microphones, but no one is singing right now. The song playing is "Eyes Without a Face" by Billy Idol, the one i linked in the post.

5- Nah i didn't use the knife, quite the opposite actually. I didn't like how one of the draings turned out, so i ripped the bottom half of the paper and drew at the bottom. Then i used my phone editor to blur the two pages together.

What ending scenes dym btw?

This place was inspired by the song "I Know The End" by Pheobe Bridgers. The place is sunset with thousands of billboards. Eyeballs and Lee sit on the titular billboard from the song as they chat.

When did Lee meet Wingtips or Eyeballs?

For Wingtips, its the usual one. Wingtips is a manifestation of Lee's imagination as a coping mechanism. Vae also act as a therapist and later a parental figure to Lee until the end.

For Eyeballs, after Lee dies, Eyeballs poses as Wingtips to torment him in Hell for eternity. However, something happens and leaves Eyeballs just as trapped in the dream-hellscape as Lee is. They kinda struggle to understand each other, as they are the only real people in the dream-hellscape

First comic

^ i think i sent the full vid in the discord before. Lmk if you want me to find it for you

Right that's it. Thanks for reading everything.