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xavsgirl · 1 year

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Stone cold heart

Pairing:Tyler Galpin x outcast reader

Plot:you’re good at making boys fall for you,but what if for once you fall for someone?

Contains:anger,some fluff

Warnings:swearing words

Author’s notes:no hate for the festivity mentioned it’s just a reference to the show

Masterlist

Thanksgiving:the most boring and stupid festivity Nevermore had ever celebrated.

The hypocrisy hidden behind the garlands and the concert was bigger than principal Weems’ ego,which obviously got on your nervs.

“What’s your duty today?” Kent asked you

“Pilgrim village,but I’m skipping it”

“What do you mean you’re skipping it?”

“I mean that I’m doing that,Kent”

“Yeah but like..how? I mean it’s not like you will go unnoticed”

“Do you really think anyone will pay attention to me? All the students are busy with their stupid jobs and principal Weems has to kiss the mayor’s ass,I’ll surely go unnoticed. I’ll just hide somewhere”

“If they find out,you’ll get expelled”

“Can’t wait to get out of this awful school anyway” you scoffed,leaving the boy.

Nevermore simply disgusted you:students were all so excited to attend classes together and meet their friends while you just wanted to spit on everyone’s face.

The school was trash,the people even worse:but how could you find decent classmates when you were surrounded by idiots that put on a pedestal Bianca Barclay,Wednesday Addams or Enid Sinclair? Embarrassing,you wanted to throw up.

Those girls had nothing:the first was a blowhard,the second a future serial killer and the third a dumb wolf who couldn’t even howl. Ridiculous.

You huffled,opening the door of Jericho café.

It was warm inside,and empty:the perfect place in which to spend the next few hours before finding a new hideout.

The only problem was Xavier working there for the day,but you knew he would have never said a word,he was wrapped around your finger since you dated him.

Well,to be honest date was quite an euphemism:you had a thing with him just to humiliate Bianca.

Everyone in the school had their eyes on them:

“They’re so cute”

“What a nice couple”

“I want what they have”

Bullshit. Barclay wanted to show off she was the artist’s muse, the only one slightly in love was Thorpe but those feelings disappeared the second you got closer to him.

You had an important quality:get people the right way. That was it.

Oh and also,fake it till you make it,or just fake it in general.

Thorpe’s ideal type was quite different from the person you were:he had this weakness for sweet,pretty girls so you didn’t really know how he could had fallen in love with Bianca,she was just a bitch.

Anyway,you started getting to him with cute smiles and nice words,then you started being around him during classes,during lunch,and when he actually trusted you,you dropped the bomb:

“Is it true that Bianca uses her power over you? Oh no wait,if she does you wouldn’t know…” you cringed so bad at the stupidity you had to put in those words,but it worked as Xavier’s eyes changed their light.

“What do you mean?” he asked

“I’ve heard Yoko saying that”

“What the fuck?”

“I swear,she was in the hallway talking to Kent,she said that Bianca was working well with her power on you”

That was it,all it had taken you to make Thorpe go mad and break up with Barclay. Fun part? You weren’t lying.

Barclay and Thorpe were just another one of the many illusions which used to hide the hypocrisy of Nevermore.

A few weeks later,after wasting all your precious time trying to cheer the boy up,he finally declared his feelings to you and the rumour spread.

You dated for around a month,the perfect time to get everyone’s eyes on you and enjoy people whispering any time Bianca walked past. They all knew what she had done,you “unintentionally” told Enid, who uploaded a post about it on her blog.

Once you couldn’t stand Xavier’s corny attitude anymore you broke up with him,putting on a dumb show in which you played the sorry girlfriend who fell out of love and ditched him.

The dude was stubborn tho,he tried to get back to you many times,but you had a new job to complete:Enid’s fallen.

You started from stealing Ajax,who had been her crush for a while. Dating him was even harder than dating Xavier.

Xavier was corny,yes,but Petropolus,damn it,he was an explosion of flowers and rainbows,the perfect partner for Sinclair…if only you weren’t around.

You grabbed the mask of the good girl,threw it in the trash can,and put on the one of the dumb fairy. What a pain,but it worked.

In a few days Ajax barely knew who Enid was,which obviously hurt her,but the cherry on the top of the cake was the secret Petropolus told you.

No one actually knew that Enid had never fully turned into a werewolf,all she could do was make her claws appear and…they were the colour of her nail polish.

When the boy had told you,you had to avoid burst into a loud laugh so you just carried on with your plan.

You opened a parallel blog to the one Enid’s managed,and wrote a very long and detailed post about the little werewolf not being a real werewolf.

All you had left to do was enjoying the students laughing at her in the yard,in the classes and even in the lunch room.

Another secret had been revealed.

So funny,less funny was breaking up with Ajax as he was another stubborn guy and tried to get you back multiple times,fighting with Xavier.

You were so proud of your job,there was just one more person left:Wednesday Addams,how could you destroy her? Well it wasn’t like she wasn’t already doing that on her own,but she was still a quite popular girl no matter the controversies,she even had a bunch of loyal friends.

You were busy thinking about a new plan when it showed up right in front of you:

“How may I help you?l Tyler Galpin asked with a notepad in his hand and a smile on his lips.

You didn’t really considered that normie,you knew Addams probably had a crush on him,and him on Addams,Kent had told you,but you had rarely seen him around so he was a kind of faded imagine in a corner of your mind.

“An espresso,no sugar thanks”

“You like it bitter”

“Just like human’s existence on this planet”

“Okay…” Tyler furrowed his eyebrows and walked towards the kitchen.

You looked at him:maybe this one was easier to get,he had a crush on Wednesday which was a total psychopath,he may had liked a plotter bitch.

A few minutes later the brunette came back with your coffee,and put it on the table,right in front of you

“There you go. Hopefully this coffee will make your existence less bitter” he joked

“I don’t think so. I believe to Leopardi when he said that nature is an evil stepmother”

“Leopardi seems like a funny guy”

“He actually isn’t”

“Maybe he should try one of my coffees”

“Deaths can’t drink coffee,Tyler”

The boy looked at you confused

“How do you know my name? I have never seen you around”

“I’m from Nevermore,you’re a well known name in between the students”

“Oh,exciting. I hope they have nice words for me”

“Nothing is nice in there”

“I don’t believe you”

“You’ve never been in that school”

“But I know the students,they’re sweet people”

You laughed

“Even koalas seems sweet,but they can send you to the hospital”

“You’re pretty intimidating” Tyler giggled

“Oh,I can be” you said,and drank your coffee while the boy welcomed a new person inside the café.

A few days later you were back,sitting at the same table as before, and it went on for many many weeks until you became an abitual customer and Tyler’s friend.

The boy slowly started opening up with you:he told you about Wednesday,the way he couldn’t understand her feelings and some more irrilevant stuff,including stories from his childhood.

“Of course you don’t understand her feelings,she has none” you replied once he went on the Wednesday topic for the millionth time

“No,she has,she just doesn’t show them”

“Yes,of course. It’s like saying that a serial killer is sorry for his victims but kills them anyway”

“Why would you bring that up?”

“Because Addam’s gonna be a serial killer one day”

“You should become one too,then”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed,Tyler laughed

“You two are way more similar than what you think”

“No”

“Yes. Y’all are pessimistic,misanthrope and have the same intimidating aura” Tyler pointed out

“It’s not enough to say that we’re similar”

“It is”

“No. She’s a freak”

“You too are a freak Y/n,you’re an outcast”

“Being an outcast doesn’t mean being a freak”

“Okay,sorry. But you two are similar,you can’t change my mind”

“I’m prettier” you spit out,Tyler laughed again

“Egocentrism is another point you two have in common. Y’all would be best friends”

At those words you couldn’t keep up with the conversation no more:you stood up and hit the table with a fist

“I would never be her best friend! Never! I have nothing to share with a crazy attention seeker! I hate her! And I hate every single student of Nevermore! I want the whole school to burn down so don’t you fucking dare to compare me to any of those hypocritical assholes!” you yelled,everybody in the café turned to look at you,so Tyler grabbed your wrist and lead you to the bathroom.

“Are you mad?” he asked locking you two inside the toilet

“You started it”

“And then Wednesday is the psychopath…”

“Don’t mention her! Stop it!” you were about to yell again

“Okay,okay. May I ask you why you hate her so much? And why you hate Nevermore so much?”

“Nothing is true in there. People act like friends and then talk behind their backs,love is based on magic powers and all they care about is the appearance. They all want to be popular because the real world has always treated them like trash,and they can’t accept it. You know what,Tyler? Maybe I was wrong when I said that outcasts aren’t freaks,we are freaks,we just try to not show it. We all wear masks,I did that too” you said,and walked out from the bathroom as you wanted to go back to school.

A few days later you were laying on your bed:it was past midnight but for some reason you couldn’t sleep,so you grabbed your phone.

You had just turned it on when it rang,a text had just come in:it was Tyler’s.

You furrowed your eyebrows,confused,but checked the text anyway

“Up for a night ride? :)”

“If you really want,yes”

“I do. See you in 10 mins x”

You got dressed up and when Tyler texted you that he was outside Nevermore, you sneaked out and got in his car.

“Hello” he greeted you with a smile

“What brings you here,Galpin?”

“I wanted to see you”

“I know,I’m hard to forget”

“That’s funny because you actually are. I keep thinking about the words you told me in toilet”

“I was just mad”

“You were,but I feel like you are also frustrated”

“If I wanted to talk with a therapist I would’ve asked Mrs. Kinbott” you growled

“Okay,okay I’m sorry. As an apology take the package on the backseats”

At those words you turned your head,noticing a small rectangular present. You took it and opened it.

“A compilation of Leopardi’s poems?” you were surprised:boys used to gift you with dumb stuff like flowers,chocolate and stuffed animals,no one had ever given you such a nice gif,only Tyler.

“This is for what?” you demanded

“To make your life less bitter” he joked,this time you laughed with him.

“If I tell you the other poets I like will you gift me with all their books?” you asked,browsing the pages

“I will”

“There are plenty of them”

“I bet I’ll find all their books in limited editions”

“Sure…” you rolled your eyes,looking outside the window:you couldn’t see much besides the shape of the trees and the shiny stars

“Where are we going?” you asked

“It’s a surprise”

“Is this a date or something?”

“It depends on your perspective:do you want it to be a date or not?”

“Who knows” you shrugged your shoulders

“You’re hard to get,aren’t you?”

“It depends”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want the true me or the one of your dreams? A few boys got the girl of their dreams but not me”

“Do you talk by riddles Y/n?”

You laughed “Confusing people is my favourite hobby”

“I’ve noticed-Tyler stopped the car-here we are” he said.

You got down,realising that the boy had brought you in a beautiful clearing in which you could see the stars.

“I am not kissing you under the midnight sky Galpin,I don’t like romantic movies”

“Keep the kiss for the next time,I just wanted to show you this place. It’s pretty”

“Do you bring here all the girls you like?”

“Who knows”

“I bet you brought here Addams but she didn’t like it”

“You’re wrong on this one:Addams never came here”

“But you invited her”

“I didn’t. I haven’t seen her in a while to be honest”

“Interesting”

The silence filled the air for a second,then Tyler talked again

“Tell me about the poets you mentioned earlier”

“What?”

“Tell me about them”

“Well I like Baudelaire,Blake,Foscolo,Hugo and the Maudits poets”

“That’s our literature,not the outcast’s. You studied at a school for normies,didn’t you?” Tyler was determined to know you,the true you,which kind of caught you off guard.

When you had decided to get his heart in order to steal him from Addams you expected his type to be quite similar to the person you were,but he didn’t stopped at what you showed him,he wanted to go deeper. He wanted to know you for what you really were.

“It’s none of your business” you scoffed

“So that’s how you play? You don’t show your true self to collect the boys you want”

“Excuse me?”

“Okay let’s stop this game. During the Pilgrims Day Xavier told me about the things you did”

“Galpin let me give you an advice:stay away from Y/n. She plots and plays”

“What do you mean Thorpe?”

“She uses people and then ditches them. She’s the reason why everyone knows Bianca’s and Enid’s business. She’s a good actress:all smiles and sweet eyes,but behind those…she’s a devil.

“When we started getting closer I’ve realised that you wanted something from me,but what? You didn’t know me,it was impossible that you wanted to expose me in some ways,like you did with your classmates,then I realised. You knew Wednesday had a crush on me,she was your target. There must have been a way in which you got to Barclay,it was Thorpe,while for Sinclair it must have been Petropolus. I was your way to Addams. Xavier told me about “smiles and sweet eyes” but you just showed me coldness and cynicism,I thought it was because you knew I had a crush on Wednesday,everyone knew about us,so you just tried to be like her. You weren’t trying tho,were you? This is a part of the true you,the one you wanted to show me to get to my heart. The point is that you fucked a few things up so I ended up proving to myself that I had traced a really accurate profile of you”

“Screw me-you smirked,Tyler was smart-may I ask you when I fucked up?”

“Well,the words you said in the toilet,then your riddles about the girl of everyone’s dream and your true self. Xavier was right:you do play with people to make other people sink,and you do it so well. That’s sick,that’s the plotting of a villain”

“It’s checkmate for you Galpin,congrats”

“I want a reward” he said,reducing the space between you two.

Your noses were close,your eyes chained together:invisible discharging flying in the air.

“What do you want?” you demanded

“Two things. First one:the truth. Tell me everything I don’t know about you. Every single thing. I’m sure there’s more on why you hate Nevermore students so much”

“Isn’t hypocrisy a more than valid reason? Nevermore is just a huge lie,a way to humanise creatures that have nothing human besides the appearance. I was a normie once,I loved my old school,and classes,literature in particular,and I had many friends. Then one day my powers showed up and my parents rejected me,sending me to that shitty school with a shitty hierarchy in which who lies the most becomes king or queen faster. I am not the villain of the story,they are,I am just the ones who’s uncovering the truth”

Tyler grabbed your chin,smirking “Keep on talking”

You hit his hand,which fell along his body “I’ve started with Bianca,moved to Enid,now I’m taking care of Wednesday,then I’m gonna move on to my next victim. They will all fall one after another. I’ve never been the popular girl at Nevermore,never wanted to be,but I’ve always wanted to be the Truth”

“Does being the Truth implies lying and manipulating people Y/n?”

“If you want to expose a liar you have to play by his rules”

Tyler laughed “You’re a psycho,you will become a serial killer, not Wednesday”

“What’s the second thing you want,Galpin?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders and scratched the back oh his head,then he grabbed you by the arms and pushed you against the trunk of a near tree.

“A kiss” he whispered in the twilight,clashing your lips together.

The kiss was rough and passionate,it sent shivers along your spine. Maybe that time it was different,maybe you did play with Tyler,but Tyler played with you and,at the end of the manche,both of you lost,or won,depending on the perspective from which you were looking.

The boy fell in love with you,but,for once,you did the same,and maybe,it wasn’t that bad:you knew Tyler hid many surprises behind those deer eyes,you could feel it,you had always felt it.

Just like you,and anyone else,he was wearing a mask.

“Now you tell me the truth” you broke the kiss

“What truth?” he played dumb

“The one which only you know”

Tyler smirked,stepping back,his hands slid in the pockets of his brown leather jacket

“Do you know Lauren Gates?” he demanded,his eyes shining of a strange light born from the dark depths of his soul

“No”

“Then let me introduce you to her,she will help you burning Nevermore down…exactly as you wished” he smirked,and with that your dreams would’ve turned into reality.

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin imagine #tyler galpin fanfic #wednesday #jenna ortega

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swiss-mrs · 3 months

Text

Chapter 3: Time of My Life

Life Eternal Series

Eddie Munson x Rockstar!POC!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

*Masterlist, Series Warnings, Additional Series/Reader Info, and Posting Schedule.*

Chapter Warnings: Slow Burn, Domestic Duo

“You excited, man?” Steve asks while he drives. Eddie scoffs.

“Excited feels like an understatement. I get to go to New York AND visit the best person ever? Yeah, there's no words to describe.” Eddie replies happily.

“Hey!” Dustin pipes in from the backseat. “Best person?” Steve rolls his eyes at Dustin.

“Dustin, Sometimes, when a man loves a woman-”

“Woah!” “Woah!” “Woah!” Dustin and Eddie shout over each other simultaneously. Steve smirks.

“No one said anything about love.” “I don't wanna get that talk from you!” They talk over each other again. Steve scoffs in disbelief.

“You're joking, right? Helen Keller could see what's going on here.” Steve says to Eddie, ignoring Dustin. “You two have been talking on the phone damn near daily for months, and now that rockstar is inviting you on an all expense included, paid trip to visit them at their house in New York.” Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve's correct assumption. “Don't act like you aren't pining over her. Did you forget I was there when you two talked for 4 hours straight at a bar where all of your respective friends were, yet you ignored everyone around you? You can thank me for the help at your wedding.” Steve dismisses. Eddie couldn't ignore the thumping in his chest. Steve wasn't all wrong. He was definitely crushing on you, hard, but he be damned if he admitted that right now. It was too early to call. He was falling too hard too fast. If he were to get rejected…

“Oh, mind your business, Steve. Eddie hit it off with a famous rockstar who sees his talent. This is a great opportunity for him! He gets to see the Big Apple AND write music for a rock album that's bound to be album of the year!” Dustin exclaims, only adding to Eddie's racing heart.

Dustin and Steve continue bickering as they drive up to the Departures curb. Steve throws the car in park and gets out with Eddie, Dustin not too far behind. Steve opens up the trunk, still bickering with the kid. Eddie grabs his suitcase and guitar case from the trunk. “Will you two shut up already!” Eddie yells, grabbing their attention. Dustin's expression changes as he focuses in on Eddie, and he rushes in to engulf Eddie in a hug. It shocks Eddie at first, but he is soon to give in and return the hug. “Don’t forget to bring me back something.” Dustin says. Eddie chuckles and pats his back.

“Will do, little man. Will do.” They pull away from each other, and he and Steve make eye contact.

“I’m not hugging you.” Steve says, holding up a hand and turning his head. Eddie rolls his eyes with an amused scoff.

“Whatever, pretty boy. I wouldn’t want to mess up your hair.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the ride.” Steve softens and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my job as chauffeur.” He shrugs. Steve gets taken off guard as Eddie gives him a quick side hug, before running off into the airport.

“See ya!” Eddie calls back, waving as he disappears into the building, Dustin waving wildly in return.

Eddie gets through TSA as quickly as possible. Since he was flying out on a Wednesday afternoon, the airport was near empty. As he sits at his gate, awaiting for his plane to board, he pulls out his old walkman. He would sometimes get looks when he pulls out the thing, but since his van only reads tapes, using Wayne’s old walkman was most efficient so he wasn’t buying doubles of every album he listened to.

He digs through his backpack, finally reaching what he was looking for, Cydonia’s debut album, Martian. He smiles at the tape, running his thumb over the cover art. Ever since your concert in Indiana, he has been listening to your two albums religiously. It was almost addicting. He loved the sound of your voice. He loved how your music introduced him to new sounds. Listening to your debut album intrigued him. It was a message for all those who were at the bottom of the food chain. It was a call to let your darkness shine, and he already proudly wore the word ‘Freak’ on his back. It would have definitely been his anthem in his high school days. His music induced trance was slightly broken when he noticed the gate doors open and the attendant started calling out for those to board.

Eddie collected his carry-on, his tattered red and black backpack, and stood to start boarding. He was one of few on the plane. As he made his way down the aisle, everything just became more and more real for him. He was suddenly struck by a hard pounding in his chest. His first time flying anywhere was going to the festival performance with metallica. That time he had Dustin to distract him. This is his first time flying solo, and he was really starting to feel his anxiety peak. He gladly sat in an empty row, halfway down the plane, and took a window seat. He figured sitting by the window would make him feel less suffocated. As soon as he was seated, he turned on the little fan above him and closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat, gripping the arm rests. He started taking big deep breaths and focused on your voice in his ears. He gripped the arm rests until his knuckles were white and squeezed his eyes harder when he felt the plane rattling during take off, but as soon as they were in the air and everything became near weightless, he relaxed a bit. He held the thought of seeing you in his mind to keep him calm. Eventually, he opened his eyes again and dared to look out the window, met with a serene view of the sun dancing along the clouds. He started to smile to himself. ‘I’m on my way, Superstar.’

》》》

As soon as Eddie landed at Newark, he felt like he was able to breathe normally again. He quickly filed off the plane and made his way to baggage claim. As he rode down the escalator, he was met with a sight he didn’t expect. In the middle of the floor was a hooded person with sunglasses on holding up a black poster board with red writing on it. ‘Eddie Munson (aka Rockstar)’ it read, and you were holding it, a smug grin on your face. Eddie smiled widely, deciding the machine was moving a bit too slow for him and began quickly walking down. “Pick up for Eddie Munson?” You said in a dramatically deep voice as he got a little closer. Eddie laughed and took four large steps over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up into the air, spinning around with you in his arms, causing you to shriek in surprise. “My glasses!” you yelled as they fell off your face and to the floor with a clack.

“Hey there, Superstar.” He laughed out, finally setting you down. “I wasn’t expecting to get picked up by the one and only.” He says with a big, happy smile. You scoff with face offense.

“I’ll make sure to send a limo next time.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No, I quite like getting to see you first thing.” He squats down to pick up your dark sunglasses. Instead of handing them back, he slides them onto his own face, grabbing your hand and leading you over to his baggage claim terminal.

“Excuse me, sir. I kind of need those.” He ignores you. “Okay, but it’s your vault if we get mobbed.” You respond, causing him to chuckle. He shrugs.

“It’ll be good practice for the,” pauses to turn around and hold up his hands, wiggling his fingers, “zombie apocalypse.” he finished in a deep, dramatically ‘spooky’ voice. You roll your eyes with an amused expression. He smiles and turns back around to search for his guitar and suitcase. You quickly miss the warmth of his hand as soon as it’s gone. You watch as Eddie waits and scans the circling conveyor belt for his luggage. You stand back not wanting to get in the way of others searching. As you wait with crossed arms, two teenage looking girls are walking passed, one of them lifting their head from the magazine they were both gawking over. She does a double tak, slapping her friend’s arm several times before nodding in our direction. You watch on through the corner of your eye, knowing what’s coming.

“Hi, sorry,” One of the girls with tricolor hair, dyed pink, purple, and blue, looked up to you with starstruck eyes, “You’re the lead singer of Cydonia, right?” You look to the other girl who had glasses, dyed black hair, and a pink, white and blue pin on the strap of the backpack on her shoulder.

“That’s me.” You say with a small smile. They look to each other for a moment, trying and failing to contain their excitement.

“Oh my gosh, we saw you in concert last year when you performed at Terminal 5-”

“You guys were awesome-”

“We love you music-”

“You inspire me so much-”

“You are a queer icon-”

“We love you-” They talk over each other, back to back. You chuckle, holding up a hand to slow them down.

“Thank you for your support. It means a lot.” You smile. They squeal like little piglets.

“Can we get a photo with you?” “Can you sign my CD player?” They say, again talking over one another. You chuckle and nod.

“Sure.” The girl with the dyed hair reaches into her crossbody purse for her disposable camera as the girl with glasses reaches in her large hoodie pocket for her CD player.

“I can take the photo for you.” A voice interrupts, Eddie. The girls look over their shoulder at him, looking at each other with a look, then both nod their heads.

“Yes, please!” They say simultaneously. You look at them suspiciously, wondering what that look was for before they turn to stand on either side of you, readying for the photo. You drape your arms over the smaller girls’ shoulders, and they lean in to hug your middle “Oh my gosh, you smell good.” “I knew it!” they say over each other, causing you to shake your head and chuckle at their antics. Eddie brings the camera up to his face. You can’t help but think how cute it is when he scrunches his face up to peek through the lens. It brings a genuine, soft smile from you.

“Say cheese!”

“Cheeeessseeee.” The two girls repeat, causing your smile to get bigger as you release another small laugh through your nose. Eddie snaps the photo. He lifts his head quickly to raise up two fingers.

“Another one just in case.” They stay holding your middle in a hug, but instead of smiling, you scrunch your nose and hold up rock-and-roll signs with your hands. The two girls do their respective ‘funny faces’, and Eddie snaps the second photo. “Nice.” He lowers the camera and the two girls release you, backing away a little. The one with glasses brings up her silver CD player and a red sharpie to hold in front of you. You grab the sharpie from her and help hold the CD player stable in her hand. You do a quick autograph.

“Can you also sign my magazine?” the tri-colored hair girl asks, holding up a copy of the same magazine you caught Eddie with all those weeks ago. You nod, giving her a ‘no problem’ and signing your name on the cover. They both struggle to hide their excitement.

“Thank you!” They both repeat over and over.

“No problem. Have a great trip or welcome home.” You smile as they give goodbyes and walk away holding onto each other. You look at Eddie. He has a smug look on his face, eyes hidden by your dark sunglasses.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s go.” You turn, and he just smiles, grabbing his things, jogging to meet up with you.

As soon as you both make it outside, Eddie is greeted with a crisp gust of wind through his curls. It’s chilly but sunny out. He follows you across the few lanes to the parking lot. Once in the parking garage, he lifts the sunglasses from his eyes and uses them to push back his bangs. You lead him across a few isles. In the middle of the empty lanes, away from the few cars parked closer to the entrance, sat a shiny, black beauty that is a-

“1967 Ford Mustang Fastback?!” Eddie nearly drops his guitar. You smirk, your back to him as you continue to walk to the backside of the car, unlocking the trunk. You look over to him. Eddie still stalled a few feet away from you.

“You comin’?” You tease. He scoffs, speechless.

“No fucking way this is your car.” He says in disbelief, starting up his walk again, closing in on you by the trunk.

“No, we’re stealing it. I actually pickpocketed those girls earlier.” You quip sarcastically, popping open the trunk.

“Well, in that case, can I drive?.” He quips back, stowing away his luggage into the empty trunk.

“No.” He pouts, and you both round the car and get in on your respective sides. Eddie is equally entranced by the all black interior as he was the exterior, “Can you even drive stick?” He whips to look at you, clearly offended.

“Can I even drive stick?! What do I look like?!” You laugh at his dramatic response. “I drive a ‘78 van for god’s sake.” He turns in his seat and mutters to himself, “‘Can you drive stick?‘ Pfft.” He mocks. You continue to laugh, turning over the ignition. Eddie takes your sunglasses off his head and puts them on the dash.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have poked the bear.” As soon as the car starts, the song you were listening to on the way to the airport continues. Eddie’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“You listen to Slayer too?! Jesus Christ I’m gonna combust.” He reaches for the grab handle above his window. He looked like he was going to pass out, sinking down into his seat. You laugh.

“You are so dramatic, Eddie Munson.” He pulls himself up, sitting properly.

“I was rejected from drama club for being too good, you know. That’s why I had to start my own cult.” He wiggles his brows.

“I doubt it was for that reason.” You scoff, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yet, I believe it.” You shrug. “Eddie Munson, the theater kid reject.” You say, lifting your hand and gesturing as if reading off a sign. He plays fake hurt, clutching his invisible pearls.

“Never have I.” He says in a posh, feminine accent. You laugh at his forced accent.

“Alright, Queen Elizabeth. Let’s go.” You both buckle up before you switch gears and start pulling out of the parking lot.

》》》

On the drive to your home in Nyack, you ensure to take the ‘long way’, going through the city a little bit. Eddie spent the entire two hour drive looking out the window in awe. The drive was silent between you two, the only noise being your music and the humming of your engine. It was nice. Eddie’s childlike wonder brough the magic back to New York. Not even the bits of traffic you hit could dull the mood.

When you were on the open freeway, leaving the city, you were able to speed up a bit. Eddie made an off-handed comment about how sexy the car sounded, bubbling a laugh out of you. You exited off the freeway early, again, not bothering to take the quickest route as you silently let Eddie sightsee through the car window. When you’re finally pulling into your neighborhood, Eddie speaks up. “Ho-ly shit.” He sighs, gaping through the front windshield. “This is where you live?” He asks breathlessly. You let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, not too bad, is it?” you ask rhetorically.

“It’s alright.” He fires back with a smirk, playing along. You spare him a quick glance. He goes back to watching the beautiful houses go by. “Not gonna lie. I mean, I didn’t know what I was thinking, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“What? Were you expecting a 5 story, 200 bedroom luxury castle?” You ask. He scoffs.

“I don’t know, but this is even better.” He looks over to you, “It fits.” he says with a small smile, staring at your smiling profile for a few seconds too long. He turns his focus out the window as you turn into your driveway. “It’s nice, obviously expensive, but cozy.” The barrier separating your driveway from the street was a long row of trees that created a natural gate around the property. You drive in a little, passing through an actual gate, metal and gothic. The house could finally be seen in all its true glory.

The old stone driveway led to a two story, brick house with red accents and black shutters. The house was in the middle of a five acre lot surrounded by a thick, tree fence. The old brick structure stood strong, slightly overtaken by the nature around it, vines climbing up the walls. The lot itself was well-maintained but not artificially manicured. Clearly someone cared for the land, but they ensured not to kill the native vegetation around it for the sake of neatness. It was far from cookiecutter. It was unique and well-loved. It fits you well.

You drive up to the top of the long driveway, parking your prized vehicle in the two car garage next to the house. Though it was an obvious post-construction addition, it was clearly made to replicate the historic home’s aesthetic. “Home sweet home.” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt, Eddie unbuckling soon after. You open your door and make your way to the trunk of your car. Eddie gets out of the car and looks out the open garage door and takes in the view of the front half of your property. Jesus, this place was amazing. The pop of the trunk lock grabs Eddie’s attention as you open the lid and go to grab his bags.

“Ah ah ah!” he stops you. “I’m a big boy. Let me get it.” You raise your hands in surrender and back up a little. “What kind of man would I be, letting you take my bags.” You shake your head.

“Okay, fine. I get it. I was just trying to be a gentleman.” you let out a soft laugh. Eddie shakes his head as he loads himself up with his backpack, tattered suitcase and solid guitar case.

“Not on my watch, superstar.” he tilts his head and gives you a big grin. You roll your eyes and close the trunk door.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get inside.” You close the garage and lead him to the side door. The side door opens to an enclosed, glass corridor that attaches to the house. You open the door that leads inside, holding it open for Eddie. It leads straight into the kitchen. The kitchen kept the same cohesive aesthetic as the outside of the house, dark, warm, cozy. “I’ll show you to your room, and while you settle in, I can start getting dinner ready.” You smile at him over your shoulder as you make your way around the kitchen island and into the open living area. You then lead him down a hall next to the set of stairs leading the the second floor. There are four doors down this hall. One at the end of the hall leading to the back yard, on to the left, under the stairs, the guest bathroom, you acknowledge. The first door to the right is the guest bedroom, where Eddie will be staying. The bedroom is huge compared to his back at home. It’s at least worth two of his bedroom plus an ensuite. “Here we are.” You say with arms wide open as you walk through the door. You walk further into the room, Eddie standing by the door. You spin and face him with your open arms. “This is you.” You drop your arms to your sides with a smack, before looking over to the bed. “I put on fresh sheets and blankets. Even got you some new pillows. I don’t have guests that often, so I hope everything is okay.” You say a bit shyly and shrug. Eddie walks in to rest his guitar case on the nightstand next to the bed and drops his backpack. He then rolls his suitcase up to the empty space next to the nightstand and rests it against the wall. He steps back and walks around the room in awe. “Well…?”

“This place is amazing.” He sighs out. He chuckles and then focuses his attention on you. He gives you a big smile from across the room before running and diving onto the bed. He bounces a few times from his hard landing then lays on his side, bending one of his legs up and resting his head on one hand. He wiggles his brows at you with the same goofy grin on his face. You shake your head with raised brows and a small laugh. Eddie then plops back, spread out over the king sized bed. He sighs heavily, “This is amazing. I don’t know how to thank you.” Your smile grows, and your eyes find the ground below your feet.

“No need. You’re here to help me, remember? It’s the least I can do.” Eddie pops up to rest on his elbows, but you continue before he protests. “I’ll be out in the kitchen cooking us dinner. Make yourself at home, rockstar.” You turn to walk out the door, “Let me know if you need anything.” you call out over your shoulder, disappearing around the corner. Eddie continues to watch the spot where you once were. He smiles to himself before plopping back down.

“This is the best day ever.” He whispers to himself before cloning his eyes, accidentally dozing off.

》》》

“Eddie?” You call out before rounding the corner to his room. You stop in your tracks when you notice him sprawled out, exactly where you left him. Soft snores echo in the room, causing a subconscious smile to break out on your face. You walk up to the bedside with soft footsteps. “Eddie?” you say softly. He stirs a bit in his sleep. You reach out to shake his shoulder, and he pops up. You jump back, startled. “Eddie.” He whips his head to look at you with wide eyes. You smile and let out a small laugh. “Dang, there goes my surprise attack.” You say sarcastically. He raises a brow.

“Can’t sneak up on me.” He says with a yawn. You let out another small laugh and push him.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Dinner is ready. I hope you’re hungry! I brought you some house slippers.” You lift up a pair of dark gray slip-on shoes and place them on the floor next to his luggage. “I hope they fit okay. Now, wash up and get changed into some PJs. We’re having a chill night. Sunset looks amazing in the sunroom right now.” You turn to walk out.

“Yes, ma’am!” Eddie calls back as you round the corner. He hops up off the bed and walks over to his suitcase. He lays it out and opens it up, pulling out some black pajama pants and a Blastoff Festival t-shirt he got from the night he met you. Eddie stands and goes into the ensuite to change and wash his hands. He splashes some water on his face to rid himself of any evidence of his nap. You had an entire guest basket of toiletries next to the sink. He smiles at how thoughtful you are. He spots a new pack of black, silk scrunchies and pops one out its packaging, throwing his wild hair into a bun at the crown of his head.

Eddie walks out of the room, down the hall, and rounds the stairs, heading to the kitchen. You could be heard rummaging around and grabbing dishes. He just about enters the kitchen right as you’re exiting. Thankfully, you both catch yourselves before running into each other. “Holy fuck.” You breathe out a little laugh as your heart starts to calm. Eddie looks down at the plates in your hands with wide eyes.

“Holy Shit!” You laugh nervously, not knowing how to take his reaction at first. “You made this!?” His gaze switches to your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yeah?” You laugh out.

“This looks amazing!” He takes a big whiff, “And it smells even better!” A huge smile forms on his face and you give him a proud smile, blushing ever so slightly.

“Thank you.” You reply with your head held high.

“Here, let me help you.” He says and goes to reach for the plates but you move them away.

“No, no. I got these. Grab the drinks?” You say with a small smirk. He drops his hands and bites back a smile. He makes his way around to the two cups and larger glass jug that waited on the kitchen island. You wait for him in the archway as he grabs everything else and starts following you. You lead him to a room at the back of your house, on the opposite side of the stairs than his room. You pass through the door frame that leads to the open space and gently place the two plates on the table. Once again, Eddie pauses for a little after walking into the new room, taking it in.

The walls and ceiling were all panes of glass like a greenhouse. Inside, there are a few plants littered around and a comfy looking couch in the middle with a wooden coffee table just in front of the couch. In the corner of the room was a plush sofa chair that had a small table next to it and a pretty, royal blue, semi-acoustic guitar leaning up against the table. Due to the time of day, the sun was setting perfectly over the trees and field that is your yard. It creates a warm glow in the room. The sight is surreal, ethereal, calm. “This is like my safe space.” You break his trance. “Especially this time of day.” His eyes find you. You’ve taken your seat on the couch and were waiting for him to sit down next to you.

You had a soft smile and were looking up at him with the most warm eyes. The warmth of the sunset made you glow. Eddie nearly dropped everything he was holding at the sight of you, finally taking you in. Half of your hair is tied back with a few shorter pieces falling onto your face, the rest cascading down your back. The sun brought out the lighter shades in your hair and the richness of your skin. The slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner you had on was now a little smudged, smoking out around your eyes. You had changed from your airport clothes to black and dark gray, plaid pajama pants and a black, pullover hoodie that was about 3 sizes too big. You had taken off your slippers to sit cross legged on the couch, revealing a pair of brightly colored, patterned socks, the best contrast to your outfit. You pat the empty spot next to you. Eddie smiles wide and quickly makes his way over.

He sets down the cups on the coasters you have out and takes it upon himself to pour your drinks. “I hope you don’t mind just sitting and eating. I don’t have a TV in here.” Eddie shakes his head, still holding his smile.

“I don’t mind. We can just talk and eat.” He places the glass container down and smiles over to you, infecting your face with a big smile. You nod in response before breaking eye contact and looking down at the food. You reach down to grab your plate and silverware.

“Bone apple teeth.” You say before digging in, Eddie laughing and doing the same.

You two talked for hours even after you finished eating, well after the sun went down. You went back and forth talking about everything, as you normally would. Eventually, you both started talking about music and the album. It was clear you both had similar tastes in music, but one thing that neither of you weren’t expecting was the understanding you both had about what you wanted to write. Every idea, every concept you went back and forth on was never shot down. You would build up on each idea and create a story. “I am not letting you let that fantasy, Lord of the Rings inspired album slide under the rug.” Eddie said, holding up an accusing, soapy finger. You shake your head and laugh, drying the freshly cleaned dish in your hand.

“I don’t know how, but I promise I’ll make it happen.” Eddie goes back to rinsing off the last dish. “But, you have to keep your half of the bargain and actually release your own music.” You say raising a brow at him. He tilts his head and hands you another dish with a wide grin.

“Anything for you, baby.” He teases. You take the dish, biting back your smile as your cheeks burn. Eddie rinses out the sink and runs his hands under the water a final time before turning the faucet off and drying his hands. Eddie turns to lean his back against the counter, and you put down the final dish as you finish drying it. You look at the clock, and it’s almost midnight. You turn back to him. He still held a cheesy grin on his face.

“We should probably call it a night, hot shot.” You say, leaning on your arm that rests on the edge of the counter. He sighs dramatically and rolls his head.

“So soon?” He pouts. You smile a bit at his childish antics.

“Well, We have a busy day tomorrow. I don’t want you complaining about being tired while we work.” He groans and lifts himself up, leading the way around the island and out the kitchen.

You walk him to his bedroom door. “If you need anything, my room is at the top of the stairs, first door on the left.” You lean against the door frame, resting on your shoulder. Eddie stops from walking any further into the room and turns to face you. He places a hand just above your head on the door frame, leaning against it. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“Dinner was amazing. Thank you, dollface.” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“‘Dollface’? Really?” You look back up to him with a less than impressed expression but biting back a smile. He shrugs, his act not wavering in the slightest.

“Heard Steve say it. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work on you.” His smirk grows into a grin. “But, seriously, thank you. Today has been amazing. I love getting to spend time with you, especially in person. You’ve definitely given me a night to remember.” His honesty makes your heart flutter, releasing your smile from its cage.

“I’m glad. You’re stuck with me for a whole week.” You scrunch your nose. Eddie finds it absolutely precious. You turn to walk away, “See ya in the mornin’!” You say without sparing him another glance. He watches you make it to the top of the stairs before yelling back.

“Goodnight, superstar!” He smiles up to the top of the stairs.

“Goodnight, rockstar!” You shout back before your door clicks closed. Eddie continues to smile up at the stairs for a few seconds before making his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He sighs happily and looks around the moonlit room letting his happiness build. He then jumps, punching the air with a huge smile on his face. He wants to let out a loud yell to release the pent up energy he has, but he restrains himself. He quickly makes his way over to the nightstand and turns on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room in a soft warm light. He reaches down to his backpack and grabs his tattered notebook and a pen. He jumps onto the bed and situates himself to lay on his stomach. He flips through a few pages of words and doodles to get to a blank page and starts writing furiously.

“Hey, girl, I’m in love with you.”

Tag List (Open):

@ali-r3n

@starmilks

@madelynraemunson

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #swiss fics #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x rockstar oc #eddie munson x rockstar!reader #life eternal swiss fic #eddie munson swiss fics #eddie munson x rockstar reader #rockstar eddie munson

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thislovintime · 6 months

Photo

The Monkees promoting Head in the Bay Area, 1968. Photo 2 courtesy of Oakland Tribune.

“If we were considering animals, David Jones would probably be a cocker spaniel; Micky Dolenz a poodle; Mike Nesmith a dachshund and Peter Tork an afghan… not a monkey among them. But, following an interview with the pre-teen dream makers, we are considering ‘The Monkees,’ who were live and reasonably sane in the Bay Area last week to plug their new movie, ‘Head,’ which opened Wednesday in the Eastbay. After chatting for an hour, individual personalities emerged… David Jones is… uh, well… a cocker spaniel; Micky Dolenz, a poodle…. There is just no way to describe the four musician-actors who have probably absorbed more sarcasm from critics, more distrust from the public and endured a faster-paced schedule than any other rock group on Planet Earth. There is something unreal about the four of them together — in an ‘in person’ interview in a posh hotel suite with promotion agents in the background. Their friendliness, cleanliness and politeness are real but their togetherness falls apart trying to come together. By now, anyone who reads even one of the world’s live languages knows they were brought together for the first time to star in a TV series by the same name. A marketable item made up of ex-jockey and musical-comedy (‘Oliver’) star David Jones; Grown up TV ‘Circus Boy’ wonder Micky Dolenz; country-western-folk singer from Texas, Mike Nesmith, and Greenwich Village vintage guitarist Peter Tork. The four speak to each other as acquaintances and one gets the impression of a working-hours-or-sessions relationship only. They appear to be a little too polite to each other, to aware of each other for comfort. Peter defers to Micky’s talent as a director. ‘You know, like we were doing one TV show with Micky directing,’ Peter imitates Micky’s muggings. ‘He takes the script, flips it open and says, “Let’s see here now… we shoot starting with page seven… here boys,” he calls over the camera crew and in bright sunlight shoots in four hours with no rehearsal what it normally takes 12 hours to shoot.’ Micky grins, bows politely with a ‘Thank you, kind sir.’ […] ‘We did some shows that we really liked,’ Peter said. ‘But there were so many formula shows where Micky played crazy villains, David always got the girl… we just couldn’t take another season of it.’ ‘In addition to the “7 to 7” hours at the studio,’ David said, ‘we’d have to get a song out for the show, plan concerts, rehearse for and record albums. Some nights I’d work until 3 a.m. then have to be back at the studio for makeup at 6 a.m. the same day.’ Still, their critical success came with their Marx-Brothers-ish approach to comedy, that aspect of their careers which has been the most time-consuming. ‘The Monkees’ don’t see it that way. Mike plots their future in music with visuals as an accompaniment rather than the focus. ‘Music was always the major thing even in our series,’ he said. Most reviews and public response do not agree with this. Past the pre-and-early-teens, people can more or less take or leave the ‘Monkees’ sound and it was considered little more than background to innovative comedy on their show.” - article by Peggy King, Oakland Tribune, December 7, 1968

#Peter Tork #Davy Jones #Micky Dolenz #Michael Nesmith #The Monkees #Monkees #Tork quotes #60s Tork #Head (1968)#long read #The Monkees Season 1 #The Monkees Season 2 #1968 #(sorry about the photo only pic)#can you queue it

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im-overstimulated-and-im-sad · 3 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

Doing this early because it's -3 degrees out and I literally said "oh that's the warmest morning this week!"

This is from the upcoming chapter in my TK's growing up years fic - 💝

2010 -

“You hear that?” Sophie asked. “I think someone’s at the door”. TK sat up on his bed. He heard it; someone was knocking at the door. “You think it’s Mom?” Sophie asked.

“She usually uses the intercom,” TK said, shaking his head. He looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was just a little after eight thirty. “Plus, Dad said she’d be here at nine. She’ll probably be early, but… not this early”.

“She has to lecture both kids,” his sister pointed out. “She might want to be early for that”.

“True,” TK nodded. He rolled off the bed and poked his head out. The bathroom door was closed; his dad was still in the shower. “I’ll check the door,” he told his sister.

“Dad said to stay in our room until Mom gets here,” Sophie reminded him.

“Well, he should have thought of that before he went to shower,” TK called back. Plus, he thought to himself, after last night, he couldn’t imagine he could possibly get in more trouble from just answering the door.

At least, not until he saw who was at the door.

“Hunter!” TK exclaimed. He glanced behind him quick; bathroom door was still closed. He turned back and said without thinking, “Am I dreaming?” To check, he reached out and took Hunter’s hand. Even though he had last seen Hunter nine hours ago, he had painted his nails since then.

“Yes, yes you are,” Hunter joked, his eyes twinkling. “I was dreaming that someone very cute on the seventh floor was stealing all of my hoodies and I had to invade your dream to get them back”.

TK looked down at his chest; he did still have Hunter’s Fall Out Boy hoodie on. “Well, that’s your own fault,” TK giggled. “You’ve been to way more concerts than I have”.

“Well, I’ve been telling you we should fix that,” Hunter smiled so TK could see the barbell in his tongue. “But,” Hunter said, interlocking his fingers with TK’s, “after I got back downstairs last night, I texted you. And then I did again when I got up. I wondered if your dad took your phone”.

“He did”. TK sighed. With how pissed his dad was last night, TK wouldn’t be surprised if his dad had put his phone down the garbage disposal.

“And I wanted to see you,” Hunter told him. TK blushed at that; he couldn’t help it. “And I knew your mom would be by early,” Hunter added. “And stopping by when you’re over there might be more… dangerous”.

“Yeah, it would be”. TK nodded. “Still,” he added, “coming up here is hardly safer after last night”. He smiled at his boyfriend. “You’re very brave”.

“Not the word I’d use, kiddo,” a sharp voice came from behind TK. TK turned and saw the bathroom door had opened and his dad was standing there, not looking too pleased.

“Hi, Dad!” TK said brightly. He dropped Hunter’s hand. “Hunter was just—”

“Leaving?” Owen finished, taking a step closer. “Cause that’s really the only thing Hunter should be doing. And TK should be going back to his room".

“Dad,” TK said, “can we talk for just a minute? Please?” He rocked back and forth on his heels.

Owen sighed. “Okay. One minute”. He leaned back against the kitchen table, crossing his arms.

“Are you… going to stand there the whole time?” TK asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Yep”. His dad nodded. “You’ve got fifty four seconds now, by the way”. As TK turned back around, Hunter reached for his hand again. Now TK felt pressure to come up with something really good to say.

“Oh”. He thought of something. “I think my mom called your mom and left her a message about last night”.

“She did,” Owen said from behind TK.

“Did she say anything to you?” TK asked.

“She’s not up yet”. Hunter shook his head. “So we’ll see. She should be cool about it, though”.

Behind him, TK heard his dad muttering, “Well, teenagers unsupervised with drugs, who wouldn’t be cool about that?”

“Dad,” TK whined. He looked back at Hunter. “Thank you for coming up here,” he said. “I know we probably won’t be able to hang out for a bit, and—”

“The words ‘probably’ and ‘a bit’ really don’t belong in that sentence, bud,” Owen interjected, putting a hand on TK’s shoulder. “Time’s up”. He looked tiredly at his son’s boyfriend. “Hunter, I can’t make you go home, but I’m only going to ask you once to get the hell out of my doorway”.

“Dad!” TK squeaked indignantly as Owen slowly pushed him back. He looked at Hunter one more time; he hadn’t moved. “I’m sorry, he—”

“It’s okay”. Hunter said. “We’ll talk. Hold on to my hoodie for me?”

Despite everything, TK, blushed. “Yeah. I can do that”.

No pressure tagging; I tag @sznofthesticks @dreamingofmickeywaffles @anewkindofme @snowviolettwhite @actualalligator @lochnesswriter @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @reyestrandd @firstprince-history-huh @carlos-tk @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @paperstorm @liminalmemories21 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @thisbuildinghasfeelings @kiwichaeng @goodways @jesuisici33 @strakksilva @thebumblecee @celeritas2997 @eclectic-sassycoweyes @tailoredshirt @kiloskywalker and anyone else who wants to do it; open tag 🫶

#911 lone star #wip wednesday #911 ls fic

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deathclassic · 26 days

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weekly tag wednesday thursday

thank you for tagging me kat @mybrainismelted evie @energievie comet @spacerockwriting julissa @heymrspatel chani @darlingian sky @transmurderbug georgia @iansw0rld and @guinguin1984, it is greatly appreciated

Firsts! Name: molly Age: 25, im an infant lol

First Pet? My mum had a black cat she got when she was 18 called allegro and she was around when i was born so her

First Word? probably some form of mama

First Celebrity Crush? gerard way maybe? idk i was like 8

First IRL Crush? this kid named ben, he was the only boy that didn't bully me so it must've meant something at the time. we're still friends but i dont have a crush on him lol and he dated all my friends too,,,,like not even joking all of them

First kiss? this random girl at a fall out boy afterparty, we gave each other forehead bruises bc we headbanged at the same time to a parkway drive song

First Car? this bitch still can't drive so no car over here

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents? this bitch also still lives at home with their parents lmao im failing so hard at adult life

First time on a plane? i was 12, we went to the gold coast

First cellphone? this weird flip phone i got when i was 12 and started taking public transport by myself

First concert? technically it was radiohead in 1998, my mum was not gonna miss seeing them just bc she was pregnant with me and apparently i kicked a lot during the gig

First Foreign country you visited? never left the country, my first time will be this october and im going to the usa

First sport you ever played? netball and karate, started those around the same time

First career aspiration? zoo keeper

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think "wow" when i was 22 i designed a movie poster and i thought it was pretty good, that was probably the first time and maybe the only tbh

im not tagging anyone bc i can see everyone has already done it

#tagged #tag game #mutuals

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izooks · 25 days

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Scott Galloway - NO MERCY / NO MALICE

Florida is now one of the most restrictive states in the country for abortion rights: The state’s supreme court reversed its own precedents on April 1 and upheld a ban on abortions after six weeks. Women in Florida, as in many states after the reversal of Roe v. Wade, now face harsh limits on their fundamental rights.

The same day, the court also allowed a proposal enshrining abortion rights in Florida’s constitution to appear on the ballot this November. There is a good chance it will pass, but it will be close — 60% will have to approve the amendment, and last fall, a poll found 62% of voters planned to vote for it. Nationwide, between 60% and 80% of Americans support a woman’s right to choose, depending on how the question is asked. The rest of the world is expanding the right of women to decide when and how they get pregnant and give birth. Yet in many states, a minority of Americans continue to impose their views on the rest of us. I say “us” because while this right is unique to women, it affects all of us. The right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy changed the course of my life, and my mother’s, even though I didn’t understand it at the time.

“D and What?”

On a late summer afternoon, between my junior and senior years of high school, I was in the passenger seat of my mom’s lime-green Opel Manta on the way home from work. Mom had secured me a job in the mailroom of her employer, the Southwestern School of Law, where she managed the secretarial pool, and we carpooled back and forth. Headed west on I-10 (the Santa Monica Freeway), between the La Brea and Fairfax exits, she told me about her plans for later in the week.

“I’m having a procedure called a D&C on Wednesday and won’t be home that night. Are you fine to stay alone?”

I was 16, and only really heard the part of her question suggesting I wasn’t old enough to spend the night solo in our condo. “Yeah, sure.” I didn’t ask what a D&C was, but I had the sense it had something to do with the great unknown, women’s health, and didn’t ask for details. My mom likely wanted to have a meaningful conversation with me, but that didn’t happen. Meaningful dialogue with teenage boys happens … just not when you expect. The question must have found some purchase in my consciousness, as I remember exactly what I was wearing: brown Levi’s corduroys, a Bruce Springsteen concert T-shirt, and top-siders. Not Sperry top-siders, but knockoffs. A pair of real Sperrys cost $32.

I was 16, my mom 46. I loved her because she loved me, completely. But that’s not what this post is about. I also loved the U.S. because it, too, loved us — me and my mom — completely. My mother was a single immigrant raising her son on a secretary’s salary. But this isn’t a sob story. We had good lives. Sure, money was definitely a thing, but we lived in a nice place and took vacations to Niagara Falls and San Francisco, ate at Junior’s Deli every Sunday night, and went some weekends to the beach in Santa Monica, where parking was $2 for the whole day, just behind lifeguard station No. 9.

Our nation welcomed my mother with open arms. Despite her having no education or money, we helped her out in between jobs and loaned her money so she could go to night school and become a stenographer. The state of California loved her son: The vision and generosity of the regents of UCLA and California’s taxpayers gave her unremarkable son (this isn’t a humblebrag, I was seriously unimpressive) a remarkable opportunity. I received a world-class education at little cost: UCLA (my B.A.) and UC Berkeley (an MBA) for a total cost (tuition) of $7,000 for all seven years.

More than just affordable, it was accessible: UCLA had a 76% admissions rate when I applied, and Berkeley’s Haas School of Business accepted me with an undergraduate GPA of (no joke) 2.27. America is about the opportunities it provides the unremarkable, not the manufacture of a superclass of billionaires from the pool of preordained remarkables.

But the ultimate expression of our nation’s empathy and love for a single mother, in my view, was to grant, and protect, her domain over her reproductive system. In the U.S., 59% of women getting abortions are already moms. Twenty-four percent are Catholic, 17% mainline Protestant, 13% evangelical Protestant. Over a third of pregnancies in the U.S. are unintended.

Men and women create unwanted pregnancies. However, it’s often men’s lack of manhood that’s behind abortions. Half of women seeking an abortion cite the lack of a reliable partner as a reason for their choice. In many cases the partner is abusive. Among all abortion patients, 95% report that abortion was a good choice — they remain relieved several months after the procedure. Violence toward women declines precipitously after an abortion, because they can break ties with their abusers. The leading cause of death for women who are pregnant or have just given birth, by a factor of 2x, is homicide.

Alt Control

What is going on here? In my view, it has nothing to do with “life,” as the most staunch advocates of the “pro-life” movement are the first to advocate for cutting the child tax credit, executing criminals, or putting a pregnant woman in danger when a pregnancy becomes a health risk. Many argue that these folks are not obsessed with life, but birth. This also misses the mark — the same groups do not favor economic policies that would encourage people to have children. This is about control or, more specifically, retaking control and power back from women.

I write a lot about how far young men have fallen in America over the past several decades. Even more striking is the ascent of women, globally, over the same period. Women now outnumber men in tertiary education enrollment worldwide; and the number of women elected to parliamentary positions has doubled since 1990. Women’s wealth is growing faster than overall wealth. A static feature of a modern economy is women outpacing men in education and income growth.

However, this has stirred the ghoul that haunts the world … posing a greater threat to society than any autocrat or virus: extremism. The parabolic progress of women over the past several decades has inspired a gag reflex among the most conservative wings of many religions. The radical wings of Christian, Islamic, and Jewish sects have weaponized politics and blurred the lines between religion and legislation. In America, where there used to be a sharp distinction, as outlined in the Constitution, we’ve witnessed a first: the rollback of citizens’ rights with the overturn of Roe.

The backlash among Christian nationalists has been speedballed by the other great threat: loneliness. Two-thirds of women under the age of 30 have a romantic partner vs. just one-third of men the same age. Men have fewer friends than they once did. Unfortunately, men’s loneliness can turn toxic, as they have weaker social networks and consequent guardrails. Lonely young men are more prone to conspiracy theories, nationalism, and misogynistic content. In sum, they risk becoming shitty citizens. The most striking, and frightening, data re the abortion debate is the group that registers the least support for a women’s right to choose: Gen Z men (age 12 to 27). Do you think this reflects their love for the unborn, or resentment of the living (women) … who they feel shunned by? It’s simple: Radicalized and lonely American men want uppity women to sit down.

The weapon of choice among these groups is economic warfare. To deny someone bodily autonomy is analogous to defunding them; they lose power. The Turnaway Study followed 1,000 women who sought abortions (some successfully, some not), compiling over 8,000 interviews over five years. The women in the study who were denied an abortion on average had higher debt and a greater risk of bankruptcy, and they were more likely to be in poverty years after giving birth.

2nd Order

How did you get to where you are now? People tell themselves a story that credits their character and grit for success, while blaming outside forces for their failures. But small twists of fate, errant decisions, and sheer randomness put you in this place, at this moment. I’m in tech because I fell in love with a woman and followed her to the Haas School of Business — I’d initially enrolled at the University of Texas. It’s more likely, graduating in 1992 Austin, I would have ended up in the energy sector or back in banking vs. the clear and present choice of tech in (wait for it) Silicon Valley.

But going further back, if my mom, at 46, hadn’t had access to affordable family planning, our lives would have been changed dramatically. Not only did we lack the funds or connections to figure it out (a rich friend who knew a doctor or the resources to travel far and have the procedure), but we also didn’t have the confidence. Just as I didn’t apply to out-of-state colleges — only rich kids did that. A lower-middle-class household headed by a single parent, neither remarkable, puts both of you on your heels instead of your toes.

If Roe v. Wade hadn’t been the law of the land, things could have been much different for me and my mom. An unwanted child at 46 would have been financially ruinous for our household. There was no maternity leave for secretaries in the eighties. I likely would have done what my father and mother did when their families were in financial distress, and left school to help out. I wouldn’t have enrolled at UCLA. Instead, I would have stayed in the job my father had secured for me after high school, installing shelving at $18/hour — a lot of money for us at the time.

Without my mom having that choice, there would have been no UCLA, no Berkeley grad school, no tech startups, no tens of millions in taxes paid, and … fewer children. I have always been worried about money and did not especially want kids. There’s no way I’d have opted for kids, later in life, if financially strained. We see evidence of this today, as a younger generation is having fewer children because they can’t afford them. My mom’s right to choose not to have a child she couldn’t afford gave me the choice to have children I could. All unbeknownst to me, at 16 years of age.

America is a mix of opportunity and acceptance, each being a force multiplier for the other. The reversal of Roe is about extremists and people who feel shunned trying to recapture control from a group that’s increasingly less suppliant to religion or men. The result is a lack of prosperity and a dangerous regression in the U.S., which used to illuminate a path forward for other nations. The suppression of abortion rights is yet another transfer of wealth from the poor to the rich — no child of a private equity partner is going to lose her right to choose. The economic assault against women, specifically poor women and their families, cripples opportunity and acceptance. It is wrong and un-American.

Life is so rich,

Scott Galloway

#abortion #abortion rights #pregnancy #intended pregnancies #unintended pregnancies #education #religion #roe v wade #christian nationalist #Scott Galloway

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