#content warning: covid-19 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solecize · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), infidelity, foul language, substance use, underage drinking, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic, sexually suggestive content 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. the series is told in non-chronological order. note that the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. join the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤm.list | next

you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't

TODAY’S TOP HEADLINE: bts’ rm, jimin, taehyung and jungkook set to enlist in the coming weeks! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤautumn 2023

the confrontation when it rained, it poured and you felt like you haven't seen even a glimpse of the sun in ages. there was a nagging feeling in your gut that it was too far gone, but like everything else for the past ten years, you swallowed it down and swept it under the rug. bad feelings didn’t exist in your relationship. that was the unspoken rule. yet, it was growing more and more difficult to mask the disappointment in your eyes or the frown fighting your lips. today marked the worst of your attempts.

seoul was unusually calm tonight and it scared you. when you moved to the city ages ago to begin your journey as an idol trainee, it was nothing but intimidating for your meek, pre-teen self. eventually, over time, your love for the city bloomed and it was truthfully because of jungkook. once young teenagers that arrived to seoul alone, you found solace in each other and embraced the change as one. he made you fall in love with seoul the same way he made you fall in love with him. dates, nightclubs, late night adventures, and years worth of moments within the city limits.

however, the streets were as hushed as you were, as you gripped your steering wheel like a robot.

the decision had been long made and you knew it was going to come around at some point, so there was no use in fighting it. after going without seeing your boyfriend for months, it should have been nothing but pure excitement.

“you’re awfully quiet,” murmured jungkook, glancing over at you from the passenger seat.

you were already annoyed to begin with, when he mentioned that he was going to have a driver pick him up from the airport, instead of asking for you. it felt like he didn’t even expect to have you waiting for him, considering the two of you had been apart due to his time working in the united states. you thought he’d be insisting for you to be the first person he saw once he came back. these frustrations were on top of several other things, which you’d been dreading to confront for even longer of a time.

and then, there was also the velvet box you spotted in the background of one of your facetime calls. you didn’t bring it up, but it was living in your mind everyday since. with jungkook’s big day fast approaching, there were a lot of conflicting ideas in your head.

you shrugged. “i’ve been filming long hours. not getting that much sleep.”

the look jungkook gave you read that he knew that you weren’t being a hundred percent honest, but he didn’t say anything. his eyes returned to being fixated on his phone.

after over ten years of knowing each other, you and jungkook could see through each other like glass. the only problem was that nobody ever wanted to speak up. you feared the glaring possibility of other buried conflict dating further back into the relationship because of this dynamic.

you didn’t think you deserved the blame for the tension in the air. there were several things in your mind, but jungkook wasn’t exactly a person who could easily mask their emotions. something was off with him, too, and you needed to figure out what it was. you could only hope for the best case scenario because otherwise, it was going to be your worst nightmare. there was no situation you could fathom where his behaviour was a result of an in between.

keeping your voice casual, you asked, “who are you texting?”

“my mom.”

you held back a sigh - jungkook was never particularly keen on involving you with his family. though you’d been together since he was sixteen, you always felt like he kept you an arm’s reach away from that part of your life and you never understood why.

“oh. tell her i say hi,” you said and he hummed in response.

whilst you weren’t in a talkative mood, it wasn’t like jungkook was doing anything to keep the conversation flowing either. you guys obviously texted and called during his time away, but the present atmosphere was awkward, like there was nothing to talk about after his grand return. you hugged and kissed at the airport, asked how his flight was, and that was that. driving him felt like a business endeavour, rather than welcoming your long-term partner back to the country.

after a few minutes, jungkook finally looked up from his phone. upon peering out the window, he grew confused and turned to you.

he questioned, “where are we going? the apartment is in the other direction.”

“just wait,” you assured, forcing a small smile. “take off your hoodie and put on what i have for you in the backseat.”

there was a shopping bag sitting behind jungkook’s seat and he reluctantly reached over, revealing a silk ysl shirt that you picked up that very afternoon. sighing, he did as you asked and made the change. you didn’t care to look over at your boyfriend’s shirtless body, too irritated at the curtness of the conversation.

you just wanted to get to the destination, the heavy silence becoming too much for you. there wasn’t even music on. you found yourself focusing too much on it, as you finally pulled up to the infamous hotel azure. somehow tucked away in the busy songpa district, it is unassuming to the civilian eye, but a well-known name amongst the circles of south korea’s entertainment industry. you didn’t “make it” in entertainment until you attended a party at hotel azure.

jungkook shifted in his seat. “what is this?” his tone was demanding, which immediately put you off. “the plan was to go home.”

to be fair, the last time that the two of you were at the azure hotel, jungkook wound up with a bloody nose after getting into it with an not-to-be-named yg idol at one of jackson wang’s wild parties. you weren’t even sure what happened yourself, bleary eyed for the majority of the night with several substances in your body. hotel azure was for idols at the top of the world with everything to lose, a favourite place of yours around 2018. it was now a place that you actively tried to avoid, but made an exception for the special occasion.

“calm down,” you shot back, not letting him get away with the voice he used. “just wait, i said.”

“i’m tired, y/n,” jungkook pleaded, as you stopped the car for the valet to take.

you ignored him - it wasn’t like it was up to you - and unbuckled your seatbelt, not waiting a second for jungkook.

not only did you pick up your boyfriend from the airport, you also spent hours meticulously preparing your appearance for the night. it didn’t seem like jungkook noticed, other than at the airport, when he questioned why you were wearing high heels.

you never wore heels unless you were working, but that changed when you met jungkook. he loved it when you wore heels and by the time your respective trainee debts were paid, made it a point. you bought platforms with the anticipation of how your boyfriend would go crazy over them. jungkook gifted you designer jimmy choos and pradas whenever you guys got into a fight. it made you feel your prettiest and he showered you with compliments every time.

now, he looked at you oddly for it, like you were doing too much.

jungkook eventually gave up and followed you in without a word, watching you take off your trench coat to reveal a stunning baby pink two-piece dress. the colour glittered under the low lighting of the hotel lobby and the corset accentuated your curves in all the right aways. except, he still did not say a word. this made you frown.

you handed off your coat to an employee and jungkook did the same. the lobby was empty, but you and jungkook knew exactly where to go, making a beeline for the elevator and pressing the button to move up to the penthouse suite.

“why didn’t you warn me about this?” he grumbled under his breath, adjusting his shirt in the mirror.

because that’s how surprise parties work, you wanted to reply. unfortunately, this was not a surprise party that you wanted to celebrate, so you didn’t even try to keep jungkook excited. you were both quiet, irritable, and only wanted to go home.

you said, “this is the part where i cover your eyes and lead you out.”

jungkook complied and you placed your perfectly manicured hands over his line of vision. other than sharing a hug and kiss earlier, this was the closest you’d physically gotten to your boyfriend in months. your hands were cold and you were close enough that he could hear your breathing - all too uncomfortable.

the elevator dinged and you nudged jungkook to step forward. the penthouse’s lights were off, but you could make out the shuffling of feet from behind the kitchen counter. it looked like everything was set up and pristine. then, in just a beat, the entire room lit up and you removed your hands from jungkook’s eyes.

“SURPRISE!”

the floor rumbled, voices roaring and bodies popping out from different places - behind pillars, couches and the bar. jungkook’s eyes brightened in a way that you had yet to see since reuniting with him earlier and it made your heart sink. you hadn’t realized how dull his demeanour was around you until something else actually made him smile.

his closest friends and family gathered in the penthouse and there was a large, golden banner that hung from the walls that said “welcome back jungkook!” the other wall was decorated with another banner, but this one said “good luck rm, v, jimin and jungkook!”

jungkook’s older brother was the first one that enveloped him into a bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him, then his mom. this was followed by the remainder of his band mates that managed to make the party. you awkwardly stood off to the side, a wide smile plastered on your face to mask your despondence. it seemed like jungkook’s exhaustion only existed when he was sitting in a car with you, as his laughter echoed throughout the room.

you caught jungkook’s eye and he already knew how you were feeling. while he exchanged words with other friends, it was namjoon who pulled you to the side.

“hey. you guys did a really great job with the party,” you started, looking around.

the penthouse of the azure hotel was a thing of beauty, with ceiling high windows that looked over the lights of seoul. everything shone and glimmered - the city skyline, the perfect marble floors, the expensive liquor bottles, and hell, even the perfect teeth of the myriad of a-list south korean celebrities gracing this exclusive party. there wasn’t a wrong way to ever throw a party there, but the group made an extra effort to make jungkook’s homecoming a special one.

jungkook was swarmed by several people, all asking about his time in america and how exciting it was. those were the words you used to describe it for him, too, when you sent him off months ago. you watched him take shots with mingyu and eunwoo.

namjoon shook his head, “no, no. this wouldn’t be possible without you,” he said and then glanced at jungkook, “and i’m sure he knows it, too.”

the boys, despite it also serving as a goodbye party before their enlistments, had been helping you plan the surprise for weeks leading up to jungkook’s arrival. it was one of the longest times jungkook had been apart from them and from the country in general, so they wanted to make it extra special. though you were the main mastermind behind the gathering, you initially didn’t want to do it at all.

“yeah, i hope so,” you replied, as you poured yourself a glass of white wine. “you guys all deserve it.”

over the years, jungkook’s band mates slowly became some of your friends, as well. it was somber goodbye for you in all kinds of ways. everyone was preparing to send them off with good luck and high spirits.

the boys were also preparing in their own way. you noticed that taehyung and jimin’s girlfriends were missing from the party, which only confirmed your speculations.

“it was just bound to happen,” said a voice.

it was taehyung who joined you and namjoon in a quiet circle at the corner of the living room. all of the boys looked a little bit sad, despite the celebratory atmosphere, but you read a different kind of story in taehyung’s eyes.

he smiled with a hint of gloom. “you’re looking around for her, right?”

as a fellow idol and also a girlfriend to a member of one of the biggest groups in the world, taehyung’s girlfriend grew to become one of your close confidants in the past few years. you guys were polite before, but this connection created a specific bond that couldn’t be understood by anyone else. however, you hadn’t heard from her in a few days and with her absence at taehyung’s goodbye party, you put two and two together.

to his side, namjoon clapped a hand on his friend’s back. “sorry, man.”

“i hope it was cordial,” you mustered up, ignoring the growing heaviness at the pit of your stomach. you could only hope you weren’t next.

taehyung replied. “she understood, but she wasn’t happy. regardless,” he sighed, “we’re still so young. her career is just blowing up even more, i feel like i’d only be holding her back.”

that was the way it went. when enlistment rolled around for most couples, it was either breaking up or a ring. you looked at your feet, not knowing what to say.

“jimin also told me that he broke things off with - “

a loud yelp squeaked from taehyung, who was abruptly jabbed in the side with namjoon’s elbow. the latter cleared his throat and you recognized that look. namjoon only made that face when he pulled the leader card and needed to put someone in their place. you figured that your worries were transparent to those around you.

namjoon cleared his throat. “not in a chatty mood?”

while you greeted people during the set-up of the party, you realized that you had yet to actually try socializing. things were awkward with jungkook’s parents, who you long suspected didn’t approve of you for various reasons. in general, most people were interested in chatting with the boys, which you didn’t mind. it was a gathering to send them off, after all.

“not really. you guys should go mingle with your friends,” you said, taking another sip of your wine. “it’s your party.”

“i hope i’m not overstepping, but did you and jungkook get in a fight?” taehyung asked.

you blinked slowly. “no. does it seem like it?”

“just seems like he’s nervous about something,” he commented and you noticed namjoon glare at him once more, as if to shut up.

for the first time that night, you felt a glimmer of mixed feelings that left you wondering. why would he be nervous? the big visual forming in your mind was a diamond ring. you and jungkook had contemplated marriage in the past year, but it was also the source of many arguments. you weren’t even sure you wanted to get married now, but your mother had been getting into your ear about you getting older. then, there were your respective companies who lost their shit at the idea. but, what really mattered, was jungkook’s opinion. he seemed to wave it off or change the topic at every opportunity, so your hopes for a ring lived in the back of your mind.

despite this, taehyung was right. jungkook looked nervous. he’d been irritated at being dragged to his surprise party - you wondered if it was delusional enough to believe that he had plans for the two of you, instead.

for the rest of the night, you continued to keep to yourself. you weren’t lying when you told jungkook you were tired, but you were determined to stay as long as you could and pretend that you and jungkook weren’t stealing mysterious glances at each other for the entire evening. it was obvious and only made you anxious.

a few hours later and the party only grew in numbers and in noise. you thought you lost him in the crowd, until you left to refill your nth drink and found him talking to his cousin.

the two were smiling and laughing, as his cousin appeared to be showing jungkook pictures on his phone. you assumed it was her newborn daughter - she gave birth just two months before her fiance was to be discharged and now that he was back, the wedding was just around the corner. you remembered jungkook telling you that she was proposed to on the day of his enlistment.

jungkook caught your eye and he immediately looked away - what the hell was that? he even turned slightly and you couldn’t read his lips. something was going on. you watched him shove his hands in his pockets and you swore you saw the shape of a small square inside.

eventually, you grew tired of the tension in the air and the music began to make your head pound. the longer you thought about your partner, the greater your anxieties grew. there was a chance you even just although it was late in the year and a fresh sheet of snow adorned the streets of seoul, you decided it was best to step out into the balcony to take some time to breathe.

nobody else was there, thankfully, and you let out a shiver when you stepped out. the peppermint air dispelled the haze in your head and in your heart, as taking a deep breath was the greatest relief you felt all night. though your muscles remained tense and you knew you wouldn’t last out in the cold, the balcony was a welcome change.

you weren’t sure how long you were outside when the door creaked open and just by the footsteps alone, you knew who it was.

“your guests will miss you,” you said, not even looking behind you.

at this point, you were hugging yourself to stop shivering. a rustle later and you felt a thick blanket drape over your shoulders, the wool of its make completely enveloping you with much needed warmth. you relaxed your shoulders, but couldn’t look jungkook in the eyes.

“something’s wrong. tell me.”

jungkook’s wine stained lips were pulled into a frown and although he hid it well when he was chatting away with his friends and family, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. he sniffled a few times and you knew why, but you decided to bite your tongue. it was his party and he was an adult who could celebrate whatever way he wanted. it was also clear that neither of you had the energy to argue. instead, to his surprise, you raised an arm and gestured for him to come closer.

he sidestepped towards you and although you were shorter, let you wrap some of the blanket around him. his cold arm snaked around your waist and you tensed up again at his touch.

you continued to look out into the skyline. “i was going to say the same for you.”

“i’m really thankful for the party, love,” he ignored your question and pressed a kiss against your temple.

you mumbled under your breath, “it wasn’t easy." this was the first time all night that you were comfortable enough to physically touch jungkook and you suspected alcohol played a role in relieving the tension between you two, but it was always going to be easy to fall right back into routine.

and just like that, you felt a stinging sensation in your eyes. tears welled up and blurred your vision, which only made you turn your head away further from your boyfriend. he caught this immediately, his instincts nothing but natural when it came to you, and pulled you right into his chest.

the sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. the sob was desperate and helpless. it was akin to a toddler who couldn’t do anything by themselves. your voice cracked with each body-shaking sob and you didn’t have the guts to conceal it. your head was buried into jungkook’s new shirt, ruining it, but he only stroked your hair and wrapped the blanket tighter around the two of you.

“it’s okay. . .” jungkook cooed and for what seemed like the first time in a while, he sounded like himself.

it wasn’t like jungkook had undergone a drastic change from his time in america, but it was a gradual shift that you felt over a longer period of time. you attributed to the fact that you were no longer teenagers and things weren’t going to be the same as it did ten, even five years ago. that was what you told yourself, but you weren’t sure why you still held on to the old jungkook you knew.

in that moment, he sounded like the fifteen year old boy you met in a convenience store again. he sounded like the jungkook who wrote you disgusting love songs that were horrible, but you adored anyway. he sounded like the man who you talked about children and a big house and an annoying dog with.

as you found the bravery to finally pull away from jungkook’s comforting embrace, you looked up and saw that future in his eyes. his features softened, but he looked sad. your heart sank once again.

“you’re not just crying because i’m enlisting, are you?” he finally spoke, just above a whisper. his tone was certain, barely a question - after ten years together, jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

you froze. there was nothing else you could do but shut your eyes tight, pretending that this wasn’t really happening.

after a beat, you found your voice. “listen. . .we both know what happens after a man enlists. look at taehyung and jimin. look at your cousin.”

over the years, you and jungkook had gone through hell and back. you thought the worst day of your life was when dispatch leaked the news that you were dating five years ago, but you were able to recover. you thought it was the worst day of your life when your breakup was witnessed by the entire world, but you were able to recover. you even thought the worst day of your life was when word got out that you and jungkook got back together, effectively proving that you were weak and were the type of girl to crawl back to her ex. you recovered then, as well.

at the second part of your sentence, you felt jungkook physically tense up.

“is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?” he replied.

you don’t know where it came from, but something triggered a spark of anger in you. still, with a tear stained face and a runny nose, you opened your eyes and met his. this was not something you would be able to recover from.

you said, “it hasn’t just been lately, jungkook. you know exactly what’s on my mind, we’ve been talking - “

“ - and you know what my answer has been, baby. you know what kind of position i’m in,” he interrupted, breaking apart from your hold and the blanket he brought for you.

he wasn’t wrong. you did know what kind of position he was in. one of the biggest stars in the world and he had everything to lose, especially with the anxieties looming in the air for him and the rest of his group. every one of them were on their toes as soon as their enlistment dates were finalized, fearing their fade from the spotlight. you and the rest of the world knew that it was bullshit, that the bts was going to be forgotten just because they were going into the military for a few years.

marriage would surely ruin that further, right?

you said, “and you know what position i’m in.”

the careless joys of your early twenties had come and gone, which left you at the mercy of your mother’s constant talks about marriage. not just her, but other family members and even some of your friends. after all, you and jungkook had been together for ten years and you were pushing thirty sooner or later.

you also had your own fears in regard to your career. jungkook once laughed when you expressed your worries about the public no longer finding you young and pretty, but it was a real fear. most girl groups didn’t last more than a few years. many of your contemporaries had long said goodbye to their idol persona and went their separate ways from their band for a new life. you were considered a lucky one to remain with your group and maintain relevance, but for how long? was it time for you to finally settle down? you weren’t granted the same longevity as jungkook’s renowned group and you weren’t bitter about it, but nervous.

snowflakes began to fall once again and as one fell on your eyelashes, you noticed jungkook’s jaw clench.

“we’ve talked about this,” he said and you knew your wandering thoughts about a potential proposal were too good to be true.

you began, “look, i know that things are different for people like us. . “ but, things were changing. in recent years, you watched several of your peers get married and have children without losing their spot in the limelight.

“y/n. . .what made you think i changed my mind?” jungkook sighed, pacing back and forth to calm himself down.

“i just thought. . .”

“i’m sorry, but i wasn’t going to propose before my enlistment.” this time, jungkook’s frustrations melted away and there was genuine sadness in his voice.

he stepped closer to you and put his hands on your waist. you didn’t know what to say. you really had been pretending that his strange behaviour was because of a hope that seemed impossible now.

you took a deep breath. “you never said no. you made it seem like you were considering it.”

that was what silenced jungkook. it was true, there was never an outright refusal from jungkook. he would say things that implied he would talk to his company again or “with time” it would come. he gave you just enough reassurance, but never confirmation.

continuing, you said, “and you even indulged in keeping the fantasy alive with me. you’re sick for talking about honeymoon destinations with me and suggesting songs we could dance to.”

“hey. i’ve said time ands time again that there is no future where you aren’t by my side,” jungkook tried getting you to look at him, but every time he moved, you turned away.

there was no reason for you to make eye contact. you felt like a fool and if you met his eyes, you knew you would just burst into tears again. then, you thought about your conversation earlier with your friends and your vision became wet again.

“were you planning to break up with me before you enlisted?”

“what? no,” he responded, but you weren’t convinced.

you responded, “it was going to be inevitable, wasn’t it? like jimin and taehyung. you were going to be done with me.”

this time, jungkook forced you to look at him by the chin and your shoulders dropped. there was a crease in between his eyebrows that you don’t remember seeing even just a year ago. he looked more tired than he did as a rookie with barely survivable living standards.

“time really goes by, huh?” you murmured, fighting to keep your voice stable.

“we were never going to break up, love,” jungkook maintained.

still, his words didn’t penetrate further than surface level. you were left numb and the chill of winter in seoul had nothing to do with it. you wished that someone would just call jungkook away, but the party inside continued on without him.

“you bought a ring. i saw it when we video called.”

jungkook’s lips parted. you knew it. you knew you weren’t losing your mind. over the last ten years, you made some crazy accusations for all kinds of reasons. this time was different and you saw it on his face.

even after what seemed like forever, jungkook couldn’t find words to say. the longer he waited to speak, the faster your heart began to race.

he rubbed his temples and finally, he spoke. jungkook spoke and you immediately dropped the blanket he brought for you, dashing right back inside. you walked past every single attendee and ignored the few that cried out your name. you didn’t care what it looked like. you just knew you had to get out of there.

jungkook said there was a ring. he began to open his mouth and explain further, especially when he read the horrified expression on your face, but you wanted no part in it. there was no room for you to think about what that meant. you only saw red.

you weren’t sure why you wanted a proposal so badly. you knew you didn’t care that much about what your mother wanted and getting married was no solution to the prospects of a dying career. you were second guessing if your wishes for a wedding were even genuine.

on the other hand, maybe you intended for the wedding to be a solution to a dying relationship.

LATEST NEWS: hybe dismisses reports that bts’ jungkook and S.IREN’s nova are engaged, seeking legal action against gossip website that went viral for spreading the false rumour

@butnotmontana @rinkud @kookiescutie @nlr1606 @claireshelby @xtrataerrestrial @whoa-jo @tinyxrose @lavendersugarplum @bangtans-momma @firelcrds @sstrongstyle

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #bts au #jungkook au

1K notes · View notes

inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 10 months ago

Text

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 9: Some Days He Feels Like Dying]

A/N: Below are your guesses...let's see how you did!!! 🥰😘

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Extraordinary Girl” by Green Day.

Word count: 8.3k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Let’s go back to the beginning of the end of the world.

On the big-screen tv in the Liberty Center at Saratoga Springs, Wolf Blitzer is saying: “We are receiving confirmation of additional outbreaks of the so-called Florida Fever, the first cases of which here in the U.S. were reported in Miami a little over one week ago. Concern is now growing nationally, especially as the modes of transmission, symptoms, and treatment options remain unclear. Let’s go across the country to Natasha Chen for the latest information. Natasha?”

“Hi, Wolf. I’m here outside the UC San Diego Medical Center where early this morning, two individuals suspected to be suffering from the illness were admitted. I’ve been informed by hospital staff that both patients are currently in stable condition, but there is still so much confusion and conflicting information regarding this ‘Florida Fever,’ and of course that uncertainty is leading to fear, rumors, and honestly a bit of hysteria. Even how to refer to the sickness is controversial, with no official name having been decided upon by scientists. Cases in Australia are known as Ragepox, the U.K. has dubbed it the 21st Century Sweat after a mysterious disease from the 1500s, and Russia is calling it the Ukrainian Flu while Ukraine has opted for the Russian Red Rot, inspired by the skin lesions that some patients experience.”

“Can you tell us what we do know, Natasha? Are doctors classifying this illness as a virus, or as a bacterial infection more akin to tuberculosis or meningitis?”

“At this time, what I’m hearing is that doctors are fairly certain it’s a virus, as patients do not seem to respond to antibiotics when they’ve been explored as a potential treatment. But there’s truly very little information at this early stage, and I think we’re all being reminded of those first days of the Covid-19 pandemic, when no one really knew how to best to avoid contracting the virus or what the long-term effects would be both nationally and globally.”

“There are absolutely some similarities, Natasha, which I’m sure is contributing to the unease surrounding the situation. What precautions are doctors currently recommending?”

“Wolf, doctors are urging the public not to panic, and to exercise common sense measures like avoiding crowded spaces, sanitizing surfaces, and staying home if they’re feeling unwell. Suspected cases of the illness should be reported to primary physicians or local hospitals. Typical symptoms appear to include headaches, fever, gastrointestinal upset, skin discoloration and blistering, and unusual bleeding, as well as behavioral changes, particularly disorientation, aggression, and even violence in some patients…”

“That ain’t what it is,” Rio says. He jabs his index finger at the tv from where he sits on the couch beside you. “Snowflake wasn’t sick, he was dead. He was motherfucking dead, flatline, code blue, crossed the rainbow bridge, he was gone. He was dead and then he woke back up, and he wasn’t a person anymore. He was…something else.”

“Dumbass, people don’t come back from the dead,” Mike says from the ping pong table. People are milling around pretending to play pool, darts, chess, poker, Monopoly, Uno, Parcheesi, but really you’re all here for the same reason. You want to know what’s happening.

Rio turns to you. “Wasn’t Snowflake dead?”

“He definitely seemed dead,” you reply, knees tucked to your chest and still watching the tv. Wolf Blitzer’s voice is calm, but his pale blue eyes have a manic sort of light to them, too large and too rattled.

“Man, fuck Florida,” says Desmond, a utilitiesman born and raised Trenton, New Jersey. “Nothing but psychos and alligators. Saw them off of Georgia and just let them float away.”

“What was that?” Tyler replies combatively. He’s from a trailer park in Tallahassee.

“Ty, why do you care? You’d be fine. You’re already up here. You can stay.”

“They’re lying,” Rio mutters, meaning Wolf and Natasha on CNN. “When the corpsmen called the hospital, they said to be prepared to restrain Snowflake and that he might try to bite us. Why aren’t they warning people about that?!”

Kayleigh, a steelworker from Oklahoma City, looses a frenetic sort of laugh. “Because there’s no non-panic-inducing way to say: Hey, go buy some duct tape and bungee cords to tie up your loved ones, because they might try to fucking eat you.”

Rio doesn’t frown often, but he is now; he slips his phone out of the pocket of his camo pants and types out a WhatsApp message to Sophie. You only know her from photos and quick hellos via video chat, a sweet diminutive woman with white-blonde hair and blue eyes that seem to fill up half her face, as fragile as Rio is overwhelming. She likes baking and romance novels and elephants; whenever Rio finds elephant-themed souveners, he ships them home to Oregon for her, refrigerator magnets and wallets and scarves and snow globes. Sophie wears a lot of long flowing skirts and hand-knit sweaters, and offers strange suggestions when she and Rio discuss baby names: Sage, Fox, Laurel, Coral, Juniper, Karma, Rune, Otter. Otter?! Rio had exclaimed. Babe, if you name our kid Otter, even I’M gonna have to bully them.

“I’m telling Sophie to stay with my parents,” Rio says to you. “They’ve gotten super weird with all the off-the-grid stuff, but they have years’ worth of supplies and grow most of their own food now, and they’re thirty miles from the nearest town. And no one knows how to defend themselves like doomsday preppers.”

“Good idea,” you reply, watching the tv. Now Wolf Blitzer is talking about tornadoes in the Midwest, and you could almost believe the world is normal again.

A few days later all major social media platforms begin censoring content related to the so-called Florida Fever, and then the internet goes down completely, and then the power turns off and on and off again, and finally quits like a car driven to its last mile. The combat units are moved out of Saratoga Springs—never to be heard from again—and the construction projects paused indefinitely, and one of the master-at-arms that Rio is friends with (Rio has a lot of friends, surely you aren’t so remarkable) relays information that he shouldn’t: tales of planned missions, impossible plagues, overrun cities, innumerable deserters in every branch of the U.S. military.

“Hey,” Rio whispers, shaking you awake one night, moonlight streaming through the windows and the pops of distant gunfire you aren’t supposed to ask about. “If I leave, will you come with me?”

It’s a big commitment; it could be a lifetime. You fear he might just be trying not to hurt your feelings. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Rio says. “I’m not leaving without you. Are you going to Oregon by choice, or should I tie you up and throw you in the back of the Humvee?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a young one, maybe a teenager, little buds for horns and only weighing a few hundred pounds. This is good; if it was any heavier, Cregan and Rio wouldn’t be able to drag it back to the ranch. You’re still in Red Desert, Wyoming, and the bison are grazing just off I-80, an asphalt artery that cuts through an endless steppe of sand-colored rocks and tall grass. They gaze lazily in your direction with bulbous dark eyes, perpetually chewing, not terribly intelligent. The Colt pistols of the men who found you at the RV had been loaded with 9mm bullets, the same caliber your Berettas take; there weren’t many, but enough to fill both of your clips, something that feels like winning the lottery. You are lying on the rocky, dusty soil and lining up the shot. If you miss, the herd will scatter, and you’ll watch dinner vanish beneath a blue sky—pale like Aemond’s eye, a weak shallow blue—and rough white scars of cirrostratus clouds.

“Feels kind of wrong to kill a baby,” you murmur. Daeron, Luke, Baela, Helaena, and Ice are back at the house. Aemond, Rio, Cregan, Rhaena, and Aegon are here on the ground with you; Aegon insisted upon being brought along, and Rio agreed to carry him. Aegon had never seen American bison outside of the Oregon Trail computer game, those pixelated brown blobs migrating across the screen no more material than unicorns or faeries or basilisks.

“If the baby didn’t want to get killed, it shouldn’t be made of steak,” Aegon points out. He’s on a lot of Vicodin, the only narcotic Aemond could find back in Ogallala, Nebraska.

“No pressure, Chips,” Rio says, chewing on a long blade of little bluestem grass. “If you miss we’re just going to have to eat each other like the Donner Party.”

Aegon wrinkles his nose in confusion. “The what?”

“She won’t miss,” Aemond says, and Rio snickers to himself and gives you a quick wink that no one else notices.

“I don’t think one 9mm bullet will do it,” Cregan mutters. “Cows got thick skulls, I figure bison are the same way. You’ll have to hit it a few times, and before it can take off and disappear on us.”

Aemond casts him a patronizing glance. “And you’ve killed a lot of cows?”

“Oh yeah. Worked in a slaughterhouse for a while before I got hired by the power company. Hated it, went home and could still smell the blood and brains on myself no matter how many times I showered. Couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

Aemond looks like he regrets asking. Rhaena frowns worriedly at the bison. “Will they charge if someone shoots at them?”

Cregan shrugs. “Probably not.”

“Probably?!”

You squeeze the trigger five times in quick succession, hit the calf thrice, tiny puffs of scarlet mist that spring from its woolly head. It flops over as the rest of the herd jolts into a gallop, kicking up dust and fleeing across the steppe.

“Yes!” Rio booms as everyone applauds. “We’re in business! We’re having ribeyes tonight! Cregan, my good sir, I take mine medium rare.”

“You’re getting well done,” Aemond tells him. “Everyone is. Just in case the bison has parasites.”

Rio groans. “You’re ruining my life, man.” Then he and Cregan trot over to grab the baby bison, each of them taking one of its back hooves.

“So,” Aegon says dreamily. “Now that Rio is preoccupied, who would like to assist me in returning my disgusting, debilitated body to the ranch? Anyone? Anyone?”

Rhaena turns to you. “When we have more bullets, could you give me shooting lessons?”

“Sure,” you reply, a bit startled. “Really? You’re interested?”

“Well…” Rhaena hesitates. “Baela’s always been the brave one. At home, at school, when we were shopping, even when restaurants would mess up my order, Baela would do the talking and make sure I was alright…and I would literally hide behind her waiting for her to solve all my problems. And now…with the baby, with Jace…it’s been really different being the one to help her for a change, and I don’t think I’m very good at it yet. But Baela deserves to have people to lean on, just like I’ve always had her. And…when I stabbed that guy in the RV…I kind of liked it.” She titters nervously when she sees the shock on your face. “No, not like that! Not the killing part, or the gushing blood, that was all super gross. But the fact that I helped protect Baela and Luke? The fact that I wasn’t useless in that situation? That was a good feeling. Baela is clever, and she’s courageous and caring and funny, and she’s always been better than me at everything, and I never minded because she…she was like my own personal superhero, you know? But now I feel like I need to start learning how to do things myself so I can help her. Even if Baela is still better at everything, and probably always will be.”

Aegon grins toothily and pushes his neon green plastic sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know how you feel. It’s pretty impossible to look heroic next to Aemond.”

“Stop,” Aemond says, but he’s smiling, and a bloom of bashful pink blood appears in his cheeks.

“You already took over the driving,” you tell Rhaena encouragingly. “That was a big help.”

“Yeah,” Rhaena replies, a bit pensive. “Let’s hope I can keep that going.” Between the gas Aemond found in Ogallala and what was siphoned from the would-be attackers’ GMC Yukon, you got enough fuel in the Tahoe to take it halfway across Wyoming; but now the gauge is not just at but venturing below the E, and it can’t have more than five or ten miles left. That might not even get you to the next ranch, let alone a proper town. You need a working vehicle. There are nearly a thousand miles between here and Odessa, Oregon.

Aegon is pawing at Aemond like a cat. “Come on, hero. Help me up.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“This is why we’re friends,” Rio tells you as he shovels forkfuls of bison steak into his mouth, juice dribbling down his chin. Cregan gutted the bison and butchered it, then you helped him cook the steaks—not very uniform in size and shape, yet no one is complaining—on a pan heated in the woodstove. You fed the fire with books you found in the house, mostly religious in nature. “You convince me not to commit suicide when we’re stranded on a transmission tower, you share your Cheddar Whales, you’re good at shooting things…”

“How did you two become friends?” Baela asks. You are all arranged around the dining room table; there are just enough chairs for everyone. Ice lies beneath it mauling on bison bones that Cregan set aside for her. The room is illuminated by flashlights. Baela looks great: in good spirits, glowing, alert, wearing a loose cotton dress that Helaena found in an upstairs closet for her. Baela napped most of the day, something she rarely allows herself to indulge in, and the benefits are evident.

Rio says nonchalantly: “I talked to everybody and she barely talked at all. So of course I had to investigate and figure out what that was about. Turns out she’s kind of cool. You know the Wheel of Fortune game at arcades where there’s like a hundred little lights in a circle you have to press the button when the one that says Spin Zone lights up? She’s a freak, she can hit it almost every time. Can’t sink a basketball or sing karaoke to save her life, but you know, we all have flaws.”

Aegon looks up from his map, which he is scrutinizing as he eats his bison steak. “Do you realize that if we could just stop at gas stations like back when everything was normal, we’d be in Odessa or the Bay Area in fifteen hours? Literally less than one day. Fucking unreal. And yet here we are trapped in yee-haw country, freaky giant animals, no civilization but Jesus billboards everywhere, hell on earth.” He holds up a palm. “No offense, Cregan. You’re okay.”

Cregan smiles mildly. “None taken, Fried Foot. You know you’re a little well done yourself these days.”

“That’s ableist,” Aegon replies.

“We’ll find gas tomorrow,” Aemond says. He sounds confident because he has to; he’s not allowed to panic, to give up. He’s seated at the head of the table like a patriarch. His steak is the smallest and the most ragged. He wouldn’t accept any of the others.

You ask Baela: “Have you decided what to name the baby?”

“Kind of.” She rests both hands on her belly, a globe like a full moon. Helaena glances over at Baela, frowning and preoccupied. “If it’s a boy, I’m going to name it after Jace. We had already picked out Theodore…and Teddy for short, isn’t that cute? But now…I’d want him to have that connection to his father. The baby won’t have any pictures of him, or videos, or memories, or papers he wrote in school, or ties or rings or cufflinks, or…anything. But he could have Jace’s name.”

The rest of you nod, eyes downcast and feeling terribly sorry for her. “I really like that idea,” Luke says quietly.

Now Baela is thinking, her gaze traveling around the room as she chews on a cube of streak. “I’m not sure what I’d call a girl. Maybe something naturey like Violet, Rosemary, Ivy, Indigo, Fern…”

“You should name it Otter,” you say, and you and Rio erupt into raucous laughter. Aemond smiles as he watches you.

Baela is grinning uncertainly, trying not to be insensitive. Perhaps people named their kids stuff like Otter where you came from. “Um, sorry, what?!”

“That was one of the baby names on Sophie’s list,” Rio clarifies. “I vetoed it. Or at least…I think she agreed to cross it off…? Oh my God, imagine I finally get to Odessa only to find out my firstborn child has been named Otter.”

“You’d have to turn right back around,” you say. “Total abandonment would be the only honorable choice. We’d have to start over someplace else. I’ve heard Texas is nice.”

Aegon snorts. “You can’t live in Texas. They don’t even have legal weed there.”

Rhaena squints at him. “I don’t really think that’s a concern anymore, Aegon.”

Aegon smacks his forehead theatrically. “Oh no, I forgot about the apocalypse again!”

“So Cregan,” Baela says. “You were planning to vote for Trump.”

Everyone at the table groans. “No politics,” Aemond says.

“They’re all dead now, so it doesn’t matter,” Rhaena adds. “Biden, Kamala, that insane Kennedy brain worm dude, Trump…”

Aegon says: “If I was a zombie, I wouldn’t eat Trump.”

“I just found that interesting,” Baela continues, looking at Cregan like she’s expecting him to explain himself. Rhaena and Luke exchange a nervous glance. Daeron reaches under the table to pet Ice; you can hear her tail thumping cheerfully against the hardwood floor.

“I was a Trump voter, yeah,” Cregan replies between bites of steak. Aemond is studying him uneasily, but Cregan’s baritone voice is calm. “That doesn’t mean I approved of a lot of the things he did and said. I’m not a monster, I don’t believe in mocking people or all that January 6th stuff. But he was good for the economy. Back when Trump was president, groceries were more affordable, and houses were cheaper, and more companies were hiring. If I had tried to move out of my parents’ place in 2023 instead of 2019, there’s no way I could have done it. And I really needed to get out of there. A lot of people feel that they don’t have the luxury of voting for the nicest candidate, or the candidate they agree with on social issues. Something abstract like climate change isn’t even on the radar. They have to vote for their basic necessities.”

You and Rio understand what he means, you’ve both met plenty of people with the same perspective; everybody else seems shellshocked.

“But I don’t want y’all to think that I’m…” Cregan looks around the table, his eyes catching—interestingly—on Helaena, who observes him with a fully present attentiveness that you’ve learned is rare for her. “You know, like a sexist or a racist or that I hate foreigners or anything. Because I’ve never felt that way, and now I’m very happy to have found you guys, and I respect the hell out of you. And I want to be allowed to stay.”

“You can stay, Cregan,” Helaena reassures him.

“Yeah,” Rio says. “Especially since we’d probably starve without you.”

Cregan beams, clearly grateful, and there are chuckles and the tension breaks; and Baela is placidly skating her palm over the arc of her belly, and now that you’ve eaten all you can, Rio is spearing the remaining chunks of your steak with his fork and gobbling them down. He doesn’t ask before he does this; he knows you don’t mind. You’ve never understood why he’s given you so much over the past nearly five years. You are eternally offering him atonement.

Suddenly, Baela asks you: “What would you name a baby girl?”

You have to think about this before you answer. “Well, if you’re looking for something related to plants…I had a friend when I was growing up named Briar, and I always thought that was pretty.”

“Briar,” Baela echoes, intrigued.

“It means bramble, like a thorny shrub where blackberries grow. I remember her telling me that her mama wanted it to be a reminder that people go through rough patches and that life gets hard sometimes, but you have to keep going, and eventually you’ll find your way out.”

“Briar,” Baela repeats. “Yeah, that’s kind of neat. I’ll add it to the list!”

“And you’d have the same first initial,” Rhaena says. “Baela and Briar. Isn’t that adorable?”

Baela smiles. “And a few Rs thrown in there too. For Rhaena.”

Rio turns to Aegon. “Hey Honey Bun, if you had to name your kid after a plant, what would you name it?”

Aegon says without hesitation: “Marijuana.”

Now it’s an hour later, and Aemond is examining Aegon’s burned leg on the living room floor, Helaena holding a flashlight and you and Rio standing by for moral support. Underneath the bandages is a wasteland of red, weeping flesh…and yet there are spots where the skin seems to be hardening into white islands of scar tissue. Rhaena and Luke are keeping watch by the windows, Baela is passed out in one of the bedrooms, Cregan is showing Daeron how to put his wavy blonde hair up in a man bun.

Aemond points to a blackish patch on the top of Aegon’s foot, only a few inches from his ankle. “I have to debride this part here,” he says like an apology.

Aegon is afraid to ask. “What does debride mean?”

“It means I have to cut it out.”

“Cut it?!”

“It’s getting infected. I have to remove it or it will spread to the rest of the foot and you could get sepsis. I might even have to amputate the whole leg.”

“Okay, cut the dead stuff off,” Aegon swiftly agrees.

Aemond doesn’t have any more injectable morphine. He gives Aegon as much Vicodin as he dares and then begins working, carving away layers of dark disease with his scalpel and scrubbing the area with disinfectant. Aegon clutches your hand, squeezing so hard it feels like your bones might crunch, shrapnel-like splinters of marrow-stained organic glass beneath your skin. Rio has Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman—once owned by Ava—and takes one earbud while giving Aegon the other. They sing along to Sean Paul songs together, laughing as tears stream down Aegon’s sunburned cheeks:

“Well, woman, the way the time cold, I wanna be keepin’ you warm

I got the right temperature fi shelter you from the storm

Oh Lord, gal, I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl, I wanna be the papa, you can be the mom…”

Now you’re curled up in bed, your arms crossed over your belly as you struggle to fall asleep. Aemond comes to bed late now; each night he waits until Baela is sleeping and then teaches Rhaena about childbirth and recovery: what to expect, what could go wrong. She is a good student, borrowing Helaena’s spider notebook to take notes and asking detailed questions. She wants to know everything she can so she can help when Baela goes into labor.

At last, the bedroom door opens. Out in the living room you can hear Rio asking: “Do you have Wagon Wheel? I love that song.”

Aegon scoffs. “No, of course I don’t have Wagon Wheel. Shut up and listen to your Enrique Iglesias.”

“You are so racist, man…”

Aemond sees that you’re in agony, rummages around in his medical kit, and gives you an oval-shaped white pill to wash down with the can of orange Sunkist on the nightstand; Helaena found a case of it in the pantry. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“I didn’t want to take any Vicodin from Aegon or Baela. They’ll need it more than me.”

“Your pain is as real as anyone else’s.” Aemond’s weight shifts the mattress as he crawls into bed beside you, his arm settling protectively around your waist, his hand covering yours where it rests on your lower belly. “If the Tahoe runs out of gas, will you be okay to walk tomorrow?”

“Don’t worry about me. I had three periods during basic training, I honestly thought I might die. After that I can power through just about anything.”

“I’ve noticed.” You feel the soft smile on Aemond’s lips as he kisses your temple. “Do you want quiet, or do you want to talk?”

“Talking would be a nice distraction.”

Aemond wastes no time. “Do you like kids?”

“Well, since birth control doesn’t exist anymore, I’d hope everybody does.”

Again, he is smiling; you can hear it in his voice. “Okay, but do you intend to have your own?”

“Yeah, I always envisioned myself having kids. I wanted a normal family and figured I’d have to make one myself, DIY it, you know? I don’t think the plan has changed. Gotta repopulate the earth somehow.”

“I wouldn’t try to sway your decision one way or the other. It’s a burden you should only have to endure if you actively choose it. But if you want to have children one day, I’d help you.”

You giggle in the dim orange glow of a single flashlight. “How self-sacrificial.”

“No,” Aemond says, laughing. “Not like, the making them. I mean, I’d help with that too, that aspect would be fun. But I was talking about the delivery, and recovery, and taking care of a newborn. I don’t know everything, but I know a lot. I could help you get through it. So that’s an option I want you to be aware of, if…you know.” Now he pauses. “If you trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if you should,” Aemond murmurs; or at least that’s what you think he says as you lose consciousness, plummeting into sleep as if falling from a great height.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe runs out of gas just east of Tipton—not a city, not a town, just a collection of service roads linking sprawling ranches to I-80, the only continuous route across southern Wyoming—and Rhaena guides the SUV as it coasts to a halt on the shoulder of the highway. You hike about a mile to the nearest ranch house: Luke carrying the siphoning hose and empty gas can in case you can find fuel, Rio carrying Aegon on his back, Baela walking slowly and with great effort, Ice panting as she lopes across the dusty earth. You can’t spot any cattle or horses behind the endless strings of barbed wire fencing. Perhaps they are in a different pasture, or escaped or were stolen, or died of thirst without being tended to, or were consumed by a wandering hoard of zombies, never sleeping and always hungry. The house at the end of the dirt driveway is modest, old, and painted white. The front door is open; the screen door bangs in the wind.

“Rock Springs is the next real town,” Aegon says when Rio drops him to the ground, reading his map.

“And how far is that?” Rio asks.

Aegon deflates. “About fifty miles.”

“Great,” Rhaena says. “What’s the plan, to fly there?”

“Yeah, start flapping your wings, little bird. You’re light enough, you can make it.”

“No car in the driveway,” you tell Aemond. “Nobody home, maybe?”

He’s scrutinizing the house, his blue eye narrow. “Maybe.”

A thought occurs to Aegon. “Do you think ranchers have golf clubs?” he asks hopefully.

“No,” Aemond snaps. Rio is now on the front porch and pounding the butt of his unloaded Remington shotgun against the doorframe to see if anyone appears. Daeron is nocking one of his makeshift arrows as he trots around the perimeter with his compound bow.

Luke, peering through his binoculars, points to a large cylindrical aluminum structure about a hundred yards from the house, by a small red barn. “What’s that thing?”

“It’s a grain bin,” Cregan says. “Full of feed for cattle.” Ice whimpers at his feet, and he twirls his axe in his large, calloused hands. “Are we clearing the house or not? Something’s in there.”

“We are,” Aemond answers tonelessly. “Luke, Rhaena, stay out here with Aegon and watch for trouble. Daeron, you too.”

“Got it.”

“Baela—”

“Can I go inside?” she asks. “Please, Aemond. I’m so sick of sitting around feeling useless and exhausted. I want to help. I want to do something, I’m going insane.”

“Fine,” Aemond agrees. “It should be an easy one.”

It is easy, but it’s not pleasant. The house smells like dark, sickening decay. In the living room are the skeletal remains of two bodies, both children judging by the size; the maroon-stained bones are notched with indents from gnashing teeth. Cregan shadows Helaena as she searches through closets and drawers. She takes no clothing—it would have absorbed the stench of death—but fills her burlap messenger bag with matches, lighters, batteries, pills. She gives you a bottle of Advil before you can ask her for it.

“Thanks,” you say, a bit startled, as you tuck it away in your backpack.

It is not until Ice leads you to the final room, the bedroom at the rear of the house, that you hear the familiar, blood-chilling hissing and moaning of a zombie. It is in the closet, and emerges one limb at a time: one arm and then another, one leg long like a spider’s, streaked with a thick soup of rotting organs that spills from a gaping hole in her belly like the mouth of a mineshaft. Something has happened to its other leg; it is missing, and the corpse that was once a thirties-something woman—a soccer mom, perhaps, with a minivan and propensity to make meatloaf and fish sticks—drags itself across the fawn-colored carpet towards you, slow and pathetic. Ice growls and barks. Rio raises his Remington.

“Wait,” Baela says. Her hammer is in her right hand. “Can I do it?”

“Of course, be my guest,” Rio says; though you can tell he’s slightly disappointed. He loves clubbing things.

Baela approaches the yowling zombie—jaws snapping, claws swiping—and grimaces down at it, this one of millions of monsters that ended the world, that killed Jace and stole all the rest of her life from her too, all those normal things she was supposed to have, all those strings of fate that the plague cut through like a razor and sent floating aimlessly out into the void of the universe. Then with a scream, Baela swings her hammer and a catastrophic impact crater appears in the side of the zombie’s skull, and it crumples to the floor, its mindless brains spilling out onto the carpet.

“Nothing good?” Aegon asks when you reappear in the driveway, popping a Vicodin into his mouth.

“No,” Aemond replies grimly. “No gas, no bullets, no food, nothing to drink.”

“I knew it would be lean pickings once we got out here,” Cregan says, and Aemond looks like he could kill him.

“Well, fortunately, Luke might have some good news for us,” Aegon says with a grin.

Aemond perks up. “Really? What?”

“I saw a truck out there,” Luke says, using his binoculars to gesture to the grain bin. “It’s parked between the barn and the grain thing, I can just see the very front of it sticking out. And if there’s a truck, there might be gas.”

Aemond ruffles Luke’s fluffy dark hair. “Good job, kid.” And Luke lights up like how cities used to look at night, back when the power was on: Washington D.C., Key West, Corpus Christi, Chinhae. Rio stoops down so Aegon can hop on his back, and all of you trek together across the field.

“Nothing,” Cregan announces as he squeezes the little pump on the siphoning hose after opening the gas cap of the ancient Chevy Silverado and threading the hose inside. “Not a drop.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Aegon sighs from where he’s slumped on the ground. His eyes are glazed; he’s pretty stoned. He gazes pitifully up at you; you pat his shoulder sympathetically. You and Rio have already checked the barn, dilapidated but perfectly devoid of zombies. The roof has caved in; one of the two front doors are missing. “What now?!”

“We can go back to the interstate and walk until we find the next ranch,” you say, looking absentmindedly at the grain bin. It’s much larger up close, and rusty in spots. A ladder runs up one side to allow access to the roof. Ice isn’t whining or nudging anyone’s hands, but she’s sniffing the air as if she’s detected something interesting, unfamiliar.

“Yeah,” Luke replies miserably. “We can walk another five or ten miles and then maybe find a safe place to spend the night.”

Rhaena shades her eyes as she peers up at the sky. “It’s past noon already. Maybe we should just stay here.”

Rio barks out a sardonic laugh. “In a house with no supplies and that reeks of dead people?”

“Cregan, go kill us something to eat,” Aegon commands.

He chuckles in his deep, gruff voice. “It’s Miss Chips who is good at the killing, I’m just the authority on butchering at the moment.”

Aemond is watching Ice, his forehead furrowed. “What’s she doing?”

Cregan whistles. “Hey, princess, you okay?” Ice ignores him, still sniffing, her grey ears straight up in the air. Then it appears from behind the barn: a tiny brown creature, a baby bear.

“Aww, it’s so fuzzy!” Aegon squeals, stretching his arm out to pet it. Rio yanks him away; everyone else is backing up towards the grain bin. A second bear cub has now arrived, padding clumsily along, large cartoonish eyes and a little pink tongue poking out from its muzzle.

“Don’t touch them!” Aemond shouts to everyone. “Get away from them! If there are cubs, there’s probably—”

And around the barn comes the mother, a grizzly bear of 400 pounds. She bares her teeth and snarls, saliva dripping in long gluey strings. Ice is barking viciously; Aegon is shrieking and scrambling onto Rio’s back.

“Baela!” Aemond says because she’s closest to him, urging her towards the ladder of the grain bin. She gets the idea and begins climbing. Then Aemond reaches for you. “Come on, you next!”

“Rhaena, go,” you say instead, and she clambers up the ladder after Baela. Cregan is brandishing his axe; Rio has his Remington in his hands, Aegon still clinging to his back like a baby opossum to its mother. Now Helaena is climbing up the ladder, and Daeron nocks an arrow. You whip one of your M9s out of its holster, aim for the bear’s head, and pull the trigger.

Your bullet hits its skull, Daeron’s arrow pierces its chest; and the mother bear does not die but roars and rises up onto her back feet—taller than Rio, taller than Cregan—and then drops back down and charges towards you and the grain bin. Cregan blocks the way, swinging his axe. The bear reluctantly pauses, testing him with swipes of her claws that he evades. Rio is just a few steps behind Cregan, waving his Remington around hostilely. Aegon is screaming and holding on for dear life.

“Don’t shoot!” Cregan yells. “9mm isn’t big enough, you’ll just make her more angry!”

Aemond finally gets a grip on your wrist and drags you to the ladder. You obey and climb until your feet are several rungs off the ground, then you turn to see what’s going on below. Aemond, Luke, and Daeron are at the bottom of the ladder, their backs to you. Cregan is still wielding his axe.

“Fuck off, Mama Bear!” he bellows, standing as tall as possible and swinging his axe above his head. Rio follows Cregan’s lead and holds his Remington aloft. Ice is barking; the baby bears are fleeing in terror. Aegon is sobbing hysterically and saying he’s going to die. “You don’t want us and we don’t want you! Go on! Go get your babies! I’ll put this blade right between your eyes if you don’t change your stupid mind right quick!”

The bear pounds the earth with her front feet and growls, a beastly subterranean rumble, but she seems to be losing her nerve. The rungs of the ladder creak and groan; you see rust like blood-hued moss around the bolts.

“Get out of here!” Cregan shouts. “Go, you hairy old bitch! Go back to your babies!”

The bear glances back to see her cubs vanish behind the barn. Her mouth is open and panting, spittle gleaming on her pointed teeth; her black eyes are uncertain. As you hold onto the ladder with one hand, you have your M9 aimed at the bear’s left eye, just in case. Aemond is watching Cregan; on his scarred face a sharp severity, fascination and resentment and fear.

“Go on,” Cregan says firmly. “Leave us alone. You belong in the mountains, not down here. Go eat something that’s already dead, a nice easy dinner. You don’t want us. We’ll fight you.”

The grizzly bear shakes her head—flopping ears, shaggy fur filthy with dust and pieces of grass—and whirls, lumbering off to find her cubs. When she rounds the barn, Cregan waits a few long, tense, silent minutes and then turns to the grain bin.

“Alright y’all, we oughta hurry up and leave. I don’t think she’ll come back, but she might.”

From the top of the ladder, approximately forty feet off the ground, Baela begins to laugh. “Did that really just happen?! That was insane! Cregan, buddy, you can vote for whoever you want to. You and I are cool forever.”

He smiles up at her, wincing in the bright afternoon light. “I’m very glad to hear it, ma’am.”

Rio sets Aegon down on the ground and stretches his back; it must be hurting him. Aemond is taking your hand and helping you off the ladder, and you are reminded of the transmission tower where he found you in Catawissa, Pennsylvania, one of those middle-of-nowhere places like Tipton, Wyoming. As Helaena climbs down, you go to Rio and—with as much force as you can manage—knead the small of his back with the heel of your hand like you know helps him.

“You okay?”

He sighs loudly, relieved. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Oh, wow, that’s good. Harder…oh yeah…”

There is a snapping sound, metal squealing as it breaks, and by the time you turn to look she’s already falling: her cotton dress billowing around her, her arms wheeling helplessly. It happens too quickly for her to scream—for her to understand what is going on and what it means—but there is a stunned gasp and then she hits the ground, and you hear a muffled crunch of bone—skull?? spine??—and she is completely, unnaturally still as she lies on her back, no pain, no words, nothing.

“Baela!” Rhaena shrieks, and she rushes down the ladder and runs to her sister. You are all gathering around Baela, petrified to move her—to make it worse—but pleading for her to wake up, examining her with terrified eyes. Baela’s own eyes, dark and glassy and serene, are open only a sliver like obsidian crescent moons. Aemond is asking Helaena for a flashlight and then prying them wide, checking Baela’s pupils.

“There’s no reflex,” he says numbly.

“What does that mean?!” Rhaena cries. “Aemond? Aemond?!”

“She’s…she’s…” He’s in denial; he’s in shock. He’s feeling for a pulse on her carotid, he’s digging his fingernails into her forearm to try to get her to respond to pain.

“Aemond?” you say softly.

“She’s gone,” he tells you, like he doesn’t believe it, like he’s waiting to wake up.

“The baby,” Rhaena says. “Try to save the baby.” And then, when Aemond doesn’t immediately understand, she grabs his backpack and begins ripping it off so he can get the medical kit inside. “The baby, Aemond!”

Now he knows what he has to do. He pulls the scalpel out of his kit as Rhaena moves Baela’s sundress to expose her belly. She was wearing biker shorts beneath, lavender, cute, something you might have picked out in a store. In less than a minute they will be soaked with blood. Cregan leads Daeron away, and he’s telling him that they need to keep watch in case the grizzly bear returns, but you think it is an act of mercy more than anything else. Ice goes with them. Helaena, her face pale and grave, is shining the flashlight on Baela’s belly, just beneath her navel.

“Aegon?” Aemond says.

“What? What do you need?”

“I need people to help hold open the incision once I make it. I have to be able to see the amniotic sac so I can cut the membrane without harming the baby.”

“I get it, I’m here, I’ll help.”

Aemond presses the blade of the scalpel to Baela’s skin and draws a semicircle from the top of one hip to the other. There is blood, but it is slow-moving and thick and dark; it is the blood of a dead woman, not a living one. Immediately, Aegon hooks his fingers under layers of fat, skin, and muscle, and opens the wound as much as he can. You and Rio reach in too, and you do this without thinking, without allowing yourself to feel the horror of it until the work is done.

“I can’t see,” Aemond is murmuring. Rhaena gets another flashlight and helps Helaena illuminate the area. Luke is on his knees with both hands clamped over his mouth, his eyes glistening with dread and disbelief. Aemond is slicing, pausing to probe around with his fingers, cutting again. Then his arm plunges into Baela’s abdomen up to his elbow and, with some difficulty, pulls out the gore-covered baby by its feet, a girl, large and limp and silent.

Rhaena sobs, equal parts grief and joy, a smile appearing on her face. “Is she okay? Aemond? Is she…why isn’t she crying? Aemond?!”

Rio yanks off his shirt and uses it to wipe blood and gelatinous clumps away from the baby’s eyes, mouth, and nostrils. Then Aemond takes the shirt and wraps the baby in it, warming her, rubbing her lifeless little limbs. When she does not stir, Aemond lays her on the earth and begins CPR: compressions with two fingers on her tiny heart, two breaths down the airway she’s never used. There are no sounds except his efforts. There is no crying when the baby wakes, because she never does.

Enough, you are thinking, as if from very far away: an island in the Indian Ocean, the Appalachian mountains in eastern Kentucky. Enough, enough, enough.

Aemond stops trying to revive the baby. He picks her up and holds her against him, and no one says anything. There is only the barrenness of the Wyoming steppe, an anemic blue sky, tall dry grass that bows in the breeze, black vultures that are landing atop the barn and the grain bin.

Aegon jolts out of his paralysis and reaches for his brother with bloodied hands. “Aemond, hey, Aemond, listen to me, it wasn’t your fault. Okay? Are you listening? Aemond, man, you did everything you could. You gave them a chance. You didn’t give up.”

But Aemond doesn’t respond; he only kneels there beside Baela’s butchered body, her dead baby girl in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alys?” he calls, seeing that she never came back to bed. He is lying on his stomach, tangled in red sheets damp with sweat. It’s hot, too hot, and there is no humming of the air conditioning. When Aemond picks up his iPhone from the nightstand, it’s still plugged in but only at 87% battery. The power must have gone out.

He gets up, rubs the damp skin by his temple—headache, dehydration—and lifts open the nearest window. It’s odd: there is shouting, distant and indistinct, like the sound of a carnival or a concert. There are car alarms too, and sirens, and horns blaring, all too far away for him to see. It must be because of the power outage, traffic signals thrown into chaos, neighbors relaying the latest information back and forth. That’s the only logical explanation.

“Alys?” Aemond says again, groggy but with increasing curiosity, concern, guilt.

She started to feel sick last night, a pulsing in her skull and chills and powerful nausea. The possibility of it being the so-called Florida Fever barely registered in his mind. Alys gets migraines, and tofu is a migraine trigger, and he took her to a Thai restaurant (maybe he should have known better) and the curry Alys ordered ended up having tofu in it, and by the time she paid the check (as Alys always did) she was swallowing an Imitrex from the box in her snakeskin purse. She said she was going to lie down in the guest bedroom for a while so she wouldn’t wake him if she spent the next few hours dashing to and from the bathroom, a likely outcome, and if he was honest with himself about it, Aemond would admit he was relieved.

He shuffles to the bedroom door—black boxers, bare feet, century-old hardwood floors—and opens it. Now he can hear thudding, like someone tenderizing meat with a mallet. “Alys? Baby, you feeling okay?” There is no answer, only that rhythmic hammering. He realizes that it is coming from the guest bedroom, a door at the end of a long hallway still fuzzy through his half-awake eyes.

It had never felt right, but it had felt good: good in the body when she touched him, good in the soul when she told him he did something right. But lately—especially here, in the vast creaking historic house she shares with her husband and her children, who are presently sailing in Cape Cod—Aemond cannot shake the feeling that this entanglement is a surrender rather than an aspiration, something he fell into and now rests at the bottom of like a swimming pool or the sea, the cold weight of it threatening to pour into his lungs and drown him.

“Alys?” Aemond says, now with profound and inexplicable dread. Outside an ambulance or police car zooms by, sirens blaring. The pounding on the door of the guest bedroom grows faster.

I want to go home, Aemond thinks suddenly. At home, in the Federal-style townhouse his parents rented for him (Criston picked it out, a safe and quiet neighborhood in Beacon Hill, and Viserys paid), Daeron is visiting from California and watching golf tournaments with Aegon on the living room couch, pretending to be interested when Aegon describes the different types of clubs. Helaena, pursuing an Entomology PhD, is researching the Mediterranean mantis, clicking around on her MacBook Pro from the garden in the backyard. Jace and Luke live there too, and so Baela and Rhaena have all but officially moved in, keeping their apartment in Seaport only to have somewhere to retreat to when the Targaryen chaos becomes too much…and so the baby can have its own room. Baela bought a crib, a changing table, a rocking chair, a dresser, and about a million unisex onesies, mostly space-themed. Baela is studying Aeronautics and Astronautics, after all. Maybe one day she’ll work for NASA and fly rockets to the moon.

The door is rattling on its hinges. Aemond’s hand closes around the knob. On the other side is something terrible, and he knows this. But he cannot just leave her. Aemond is not someone who abandons people; he is not someone who turns away from responsibilities.

He opens the door of the guest bedroom, and immediately she is staggering towards him, limp dripping hair and naked like she was interrupted mid-shower: blood bubbling from her gaping mouth and the whites of teeth peeking through the crimson, necrotic skin hanging in strips from her fingers, eyes misty like steam on a mirror.

“Alys, stop! Alys! What’s wrong with you?!”

She’s alive but she’s dead. She’s yowling and clawing at him, but her flesh is the rotting swampland of a corpse. He’s pushing her away; his palms sink into her, places he once noticed and then fantasized about and then at last—euphorically, ashamedly—touched, held, borrowed but never kept. She’s trying to bite him. She’s trying to kill him. None of this is possible, and yet it’s true.

Aemond flings her away, and the woman who was once Alys stumbles backwards and down the staircase, sick wet thumps all the way to the ground floor, bones splitting through dissolving grey skin, organs sloshing around until they spill out. He can hear her still hissing, flailing, trying to get up again.

Without thinking—slipping seamlessly into what he learned during his psych rotation is called automatic action—Aemond races down the steps and grabs her by the skull, cracks it against the antique hardwood floor she once extoled the value of as he fucked her on it: shipped east from Oregon and laid in 1912, the year the Titanic sank. When she lurches up to try to bite him, he slams her head against the floor again and again until she is still.

Then Aemond kneels there alone for a long time, sirens shrieking outside, far-off strangers screaming for help, putrid black blood clotting on his hands.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

245 notes · View notes

cuteandhughesy · 7 months ago

Note

hiii!!! i love your writing, like the angst and the fluff is amazing. i actually had a request for arturs silovs (canucks) or jeremy swayman (bruins obv, for now at least) where they go on reader's popular hockey podcast, which kinda goes viral in the hockey community with many ppl shipping the two, and they kind of get pushed into doing more media stuff together as it brings views for the teams and stuff? im sorry thats all i got, feel free to add or change this if you do choose to write it. thanks

The Alchemy | Jeremy Swayman

summary: having your own sports podcasts was one of the most enjoyable and rewarding jobs you could ever have. when a particular episode with bruins goaltender blows up - you are jermey are pushed together to film more videos. it doesn't help that everybody is shipping you two together - making your growing crush on him become harder to mask.

[word count] 9.6K

warnings: SFW! friends to lovers | mention of covid -19 | fishing | suggestive dialogue | kissing

a/n: thank you for the request! your idea was so cute that I just had to write! I chose sway obviously so I hope yall love <3 happy halloween 🎃

🎵 the alchemy by taylor swift, juno by sabrina carpenter, packing it up by gracie abrams, kiss you by one direction, + daydreamin by ariana grande

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

when you were a little girl you'd often find yourself huddled on the cozy material of the living room couch, watching your dads tv shows until way past your bedtime. you'd always stay quiet, eyes focused only on the tv, too scared that if you'd move you'd be put into bed.

that's when you first fell in love with hockey. having no choice but to watch the tv and seeing professional athletes zip around the stark ice at high speeds, shooting dangerously, and throwing hits - you were immediately drawn into the crazy world of hockey.

but when you're a girl and you express your love for any kind of professional sport, you become immediately labeled; gold digger, clout chaser, a bunny. whether it is football, baseball, basketball, or hockey, nobody believes girls when they say they're into the sport simply because they like the sport.

that's what made you want to start pursuing a hockey related career. you wanted to show everybody that girls, just as well as men, could watch and enjoy a sport without any ulterior motives.

in 2020, with covid-19 at its peak, you started to create hockey related content and post it on tiktok. it was simple videos with just you and your mini microphone - discussing game play, trending and popular news, and nhl players.

it blew up, and after a year of tiktok content, you were approached by barstool sports with the opportunity of a lifetime.

starting a professional sports podcast was intimidating, especially under such a well known company like barstool. you'd be competing with pardon my take, bussin' with the boys, and most famously, spittin' chiclets.

you started with high hopes and a nervous belly, recording a solo episode in your small podcast room. thankfully because of your large following on tiktok, your podcast was a successful one, and you continued to grow into your space and talk all things hockey.

what set you apart from other sports podcasts was your style of content. you were good at remembering these athletes for who they were: human. of course, you'd analyze and discuss their game, but at the end of the day, these men aren't machines and you were always reminding your audience of so.

fans of the podcast described you as 'an amazing sports analysts who perfectly represents how it feels to be a woman in sports. y/n is respectful but honest. funny but kind. clever but not a know it all. pucks in deeper with y/n is the best sports cast for everyone."

it wasn't long before your podcast, titled pucks in deeper, was gaining traction outside of your tiktok fans, and you started getting occasional sponsorships and guests on the show. starting smaller with paul bisosnette and ryan whitney (who graciously had you featured in an episode of their podcast), then landing your first active nhl athlete, only 9 months after starting at barstool.

ryan reaves was the perfect guest for your podcast and perfectly matched your vibe and the vibe of content you wanted to put out into the world. the episode with reaves birthed your first viral clip, and from there you had other professional hockey players wanting to come on your podcast and chat.

at 25 years old, and almost 5 years deep into your podcast, you were thriving. often getting compared to a mixture of bobbi althoff, alex cooper and brittany broski - your content was very personalized to your interviewee, and you specialized in humour and lighthearted conversation that the players were very intrigued by.

obviously, you got hate comments, mostly from people who had nothing better to do. you'd get called a puck bunny, and were told that ‘you knew nothing’, and ‘should quit while you're ahead.’ but that didn't phase you, and you thrived off the negatively. it pushed you to prove them wrong, and continue to have a viral and successful podcast despite the criticism.

——

email from: barstool sports inc

to: y/n y/l/n @pucksindeeperpodcast

y/n,

as usual, your podcast remains a positive and successful experience for our company. we continue to be absolutely blown away by the outpouring support and love for pucks in deeper, and are excited for you to continue at the pace you are still gaining.

due to the incredible virality of your podcast episode with jeremy swayman, we have reached out to both you and swayman with a proposal. the fans and viewers have loved your shared dynamic, and we are wanting to feed off that outpouring obsession by having you and jeremy film some content for our barstool channels.

that includes an expenses paid trip from new jersey out to boston, where you'll be staying for a few days for filming - as well as transportation and hotels in boston.

we are certain this will benefit you and the continuing growth of your podcast.

jeremy swayman's team has already agreed to the terms of the proposal and he is willing to spend time and participate in planned content recordings.

let us know what you're thinking and if you'd be so kind to consider this opportunity.

thank you,

barstool sports inc.

you re-read the email again, knawing on your thumb nail gently. a few weeks ago, the boston bruins goaltender, jeremy swayman, had graciously made an appearance on pucks in deeper. instantly, jeremy became one of your favourite guests. his calm exterior and humor had bounced off your style of interviewing perfectly, and you found yourself feeling very much intrigued by the goalie.

even though the interview was over a zoom, the entire podcast went smoothly. jeremy was kind and a willing participant in all the quizzes, games and questions you'd thrown his way.

there was a clipped video from the podcast your team had uploaded to your channel's tiktok page that had gone viral, and the traction on the swayman episode after that was mind blowing.

PODCAST CLIP

"okay," you start, a gentle and anticipating grin on your face. "this is near the end of our episode - sad, I understand," jeremy laughs at your humor, his eyes squinting. you continue, "and like usual i've hand selected a question from a fan and i've found the perfect one for you."

jeremy's brows raise, "should I feel scared right now?"

you dismiss his question, a gentle grin still softening your expression. "a little birdy told me that you're a big rom-com guy."

"is this little birdy in question named brandon carlo?" jeremy questions knowingly. you'd had the bruins defence man on the podcast the week before, and he'd immediately spilled the embarrassing and memorable tea on his teammates.

"answer the question."

jeremy laughs once, and through the slightly grainy zoom video, you watch him run a hand through his hair. he nods quickly, still smiling with amusement. "i'd say yeah - fuck it, im a self proclaimed rom com enthusiast."

"well I have the most fun question that i've kind of turned into a mini game," you clear your throat, and your eyes briefly flicker down towards your desk top, scanning over your podcast notes. "the question is from @swaymansbae - damn it they stole the username I wanted." you slip in the joke quickly, just a subtle end to your sentence.

it works, and jeremy laughs again. "oh god - you should fight them for it."

you nod, "i'm going to - anyways. @swaymansbae asks what are you favourite rom coms."

jeremy hums appreciatively, already thinking of movies he'd share his love to the hockey world with.

"but I've added my own little twist. okay, so you've all seen how blind ranking things has become just like, this crazy phenomenon online. and i feel left out...so, jeremy i've got a list of 5 of my favourite romantic comedies, and you'll have to blindly rank them - 1 being the best, and 5 being the worst. ready?"

"oh fuck," jeremy huffs a laugh, and you watch him adjust into a more relaxed posture on the camera. he rubs his jawline, eyes bouncing around the computer screen. "i'm feeling nervous now - they're your favourites?"

"yeah," you nod, pushing your blue light glasses higher up the bridge of your nose - your makeup always has them slipping down. "so there is definitely a right and wrong answer."

jeremy curses again, a quiet chuckle coming alongside the swear.

you begin, "10 things I hate about you." you look away from your notebook and back at your computer screen, eyeing jeremy with faux caution.

he hisses through his teeth, teetering his head in quick thought. "i'm going to have to go 5."

"what?!!"

he laughs again, "I don't know…i'm not big on the whole enemies first storyline."

"enemies to lovers, jeremey, get it right."

another chuckle is heard before he starts to defend his rank. "I don't know it's something about that storyline I find so unbelievable. I think if you truly loved one another, you wouldn’t treat each other like that."

you sigh loudly, "okay, I guess that makes sense."

"is that your favourite?" jeremy questions, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"no comment." you clear your throat, reading your next movie from your notes. "next: to all the boys i've loved before."

"i've never seen that one - 4."

"jeremy...oh my god."

he raises his hands in surrender, teeth sparkling where they are just becoming visible under his growing smirk. "it's too new!"

"it came out in like 2018 -"

"- okay and i'm more into the classics. that's not one i've seen, but maybe i'll have to check it out."

"no, yeah you absolutely need to watch it." you tell him, eyeing him over the rim of your tortoise shell lenses.

"it's not enemies to lovers is it?" he gets the name of the trope correct this time around, and it has your lips quirking up pleasantly.

you shrug a shoulder, "no, not really."

his brows furrow, "not really?"

"moving on - how to loose a guy in 10 days."

he claps his hands, rubbing them together. "okay now I can get down with this - amazing movie."

"amazing." you echo, nodding. "and like hello matthew mcConaughey is this movie is like perfect, as well as kate hudson."

"way better than him in the wedding planner." the bruins goalie agrees, leaning forward in his kitchen chair as he gets more engaged with the conversation.

your eyes widen in suprise, "100%. and you wanna know why?"

"he's a cheater in that movie."

you make a noise - a combination of joy and shock escaping your throat. "no exactly! you get me."

"I get you." jeremey nods his head in a jerk like motion, acknowledging you like a flirty teenage boy. "i'm going to have to put that at...damn - gotta go 2."

ever so slightly, your cheeks tinge pink. regardless of your online persona of lighthearted, flirty, and funny, you're easily flustered. it sometimes made your job a bit difficult - but you're also good at your job, so repressing that initial haze from his compliment is quick and easy.

"not 1?"

he kisses his teeth, "something could always be better."

"very optimistic of you - the proposal."

his gentle laughter comes to a soft end, and he eyes you through the camera. "y/n…that's that stupid enemies shit again."

"okay, yeah but this one is different."

"how?" jeremy chuckles.

you splutter for a moment, thinking of some sort of answer. "he's all like scared of her and it's just, I don't know, well executed! and it's not like she's horrible to only him, it's just her personality."

jeremy scrunches his noise, clearly not vibing with the proposal even with your explanation. "what do I have left open?"

you glance at your notes, where you've taken the time to make sure you'd been tracking the places of each of jermey's ranking on the movies. "1 and 3."

he curses. "it's gotta be 3 - I can't put it at 1."

"oh my god, better hope you like this next movie. god forbid if the characters are mean." you tease him, eyeing him playfully through the screen. jeremy's lip tugs up, a grin forming. you continue, "and your number one....the last movie is...she's the man with the lovely amanda bynes and channing tatum."

"okay I'm actually really happy with that. I'm obsessed with that movie." he beams, "that is the kind of rom com that you just can't argue its greatness. not only is it funny and unique, but it's a sports movie - c'mon."

you echo him, "c'mon, what's not to like?!"

"sports romance for the win."

"very fitting," you chime warmly. "are you saying if a girl wants your attention she should disguise herself as brad marchand and zip around the ice."

he barks out a laugh, nodding reluctantly. "something like that."

comments

user1: wait this is everything

user2: OBSSESED

user3: sway + his love for rom coms = my new obsession

user 4: no because they way he's looking at her !

user 5: justice for 10 things I hate about you

user 6: why do I ship them together

user3: no because I was going to say that

user 7: they vibe so well together I need this is be like a weekly thing honestly

user 8: he's got rizz

user 9: MORE pls i love you both

user 10: okay but you two would be the most stunning, perfect couple. the humor matches, the banter, the way they look at each other

user4: just watched this again and omg the way sway says he hates enemies to lovers bc he doesn't believe you could treat somebody you love that badly - CERTIFIED LOVER BOY

the fans were always amazing, but as they loved on the episode, the comments about you and jeremey being cute together and shipping you were coming in at a lightning pace. it had you feeling weary of filming more content with him - despite knowing it would be a professional working environment.

the comments made me you feel like you were falling into the stereotyped female hockey fan category - labeled as a puck bunny or clout chaser. and although you found yourself always growing stronger from those false accusations, it doesn't make you the happiest to see those types of comments.

you sigh gently, pressing the respond tab on the barstool email. through your doubts, you know that barstool is right, and filming more content with jeremy while your podcast episode was still gaining traction was smart. and it's not like jeremy was a bad guest - quite the opposite. so you'll learn to work around the fans who want the two of you to date, and the allegations that you're already in jeremy's pants.

spending time with him would be good, you think. without any idea of what you'd have to participate in, you say yes - looking forward to meeting jeremy and continuing to get to know a potential returning podcast guest - getting shipped together be damned.

no harm, no foul.

boston, here you come.

— youtube: JEREMY SWAYMAN TEACHES Y/N Y/L/N HOW TO FISH

"okay and here we have - camera man, come closer." you gesture for daniel, the younger camera guy to come closer. once he's in your space, you direct his attention towards the portable flat table filled with fishing rods along other fishing things. you continue, "and this right here will be my rod. the fisherman's dream 2000."

beside you, jeremy laughs. he's fiddling with his own fishing pole, attaching the fake shrimp lure on his hook. he's laughing because there's no fishing rod on the table called the fisherman's dream 2000, and you are simply just fooling around.

regardless, your face is very serious, and you continue. "I mean, even though this is my first time fishing, jeremy told me - he actually said this - he said: I can tell you're going to be the best fisherman already so you deserve the nimbus of fishing rods. to which I responded, 'jeremy I'm a fisherwoman not a fisherman.'"

"yeah, you're right I totally said that." gently with his hip, jeremy shuffles you slightly off to the side, making more space. you don't mind, and allow him to move you around with his gentle push. immediately, he reaches for the fishing rod you'd been talking about, picking it up off the table to start attaching bait.

before he hooks the mini lure on, he looks at you. he's already grinning, and one of his brows is raised questioningly. "you sure you don't want to hook it on? you're supposed to be learning."

you cross your arms over your dark green plastic overalls, and the fabric puffs around you awkwardly. "I can watch and learn."

he eyes you slowly, gaze dragging down your body, assessing your fishing attire of rubber boots, overalls and a long sleeve - and back up to your face. jeremy is dressed the same, keeping him dry from the drizzly, cooler june day. "you definitely like to watch, huh?"

your mouth drops slightly, and in an instant you're getting into his space, taking the bait from jermey's calloused fingers. "okay, fine." he's laughing at you gently, watching as you try and attempt to attach the rubber fish to the sharp hook. you curse, merely missing pricking your finger. "this is rigged - there's no way it's supposed to be hard."

gently, jeremy takes over once again, hooking your lure correctly so it's secure on the end of fishing rod. you look back up towards the camera again, "okay and as you can see we've attached the fake bass fishy to the rode - hopefully to catch some big fish." you fist bump in and early celebratory gesture.

chuckling, jeremy shakes his head in amusement. it wasn't a bass lure, and they're aren't even bass on the lake you're at. regardless, he lets you take control and entertain- what you're best at.

"if I was a fish, i'd fall for that fake food - zoom in on that masterpiece, my god!" daniel the camera man does what you ask, expertly changing the framing on the camera to capture the neon oranges and pinks of the lure.

shrugging, you dig into the tackle box, pulling out some more fishing necessities. things like rolls of fishing line, pliers, scissors and anything in between. you pull out a small pocket knife, holding it wearily as you eye the camera - a frightened expression on your face. "what's this for? are we gutting them?"

jeremey laughs once, shooting you a look as he fiddles with the rod. you had no idea what he was actually doing with the fishing rod, because you've never held a pole in your lifetime. "we're not gutting them." he tugs one of the levers, and the clear fishing line tightens before your eyes.

"then what's the knife for?" you question, swinging it back and forth between two pinched fingers.

he shrugs, testing the retention of his fishing line. "don't worry about it." your eyes widen comically, and the swinging knife comes to a dramatic stop. it has jeremy laughing again, his shoulders shaking as he does. "okay, are you ready to head over to the lake?"

the lake in question was only 10 feet away - the water looking awfully calm through the misty weather.

you turn your body to face jeremy fully, an amused frown tugging at your lips. your brows raise playfully, "am I ready?" you echo, sarcasm lacing your tone. you pull the straps of your rubberized overalls, letting them smack back against your shirt. "i'm ready to catch some fish."

with that, you grab the orange rod from jeremy, bringing it against your chest. jeremy cringes slightly, watching the way your fingers merely miss the hook on the end of your line. on instinct, he reaches out to you, moving your hand gently so that you're out of harms way. "do you remember what I told you?"

you think back to the beginning of filming, after you'd mentioned to everyone that you had absolutely zero clue how to fish. jeremy had nicely said there was nothing to it, and as long as you remembered a few rules, you'd be fine. you sigh in thought, eyes looking into jermey's - his gaze encouraging. "stay calm and speak gently - to not scare the fish."

you're praised immediately, jeremy smiling warmly as he gathers the fishing necessitates to bring down to the water. on the way down, you almost wipe out, practically shrieking as your foot slips down the wet, grassy hill. it would've had you feeling embarrassed, but thankfully jeremy's reflex's were superior (those nhl goalies are on a different level), and he grabs the crook of your elbow to stabilize you.

he smiles slightly, eyeing you playfully when he asks if you're okay. you blush slightly, brushing off your slip with some teasing remark.

when you had arrived at the filming location this morning, you weren't expecting to end up at a fishing park - you weren't expecting fishing period. you'd been left feeling clueless about what you and jeremy would be filming for barstool, and you definitely weren't prepared for water related activities. thankfully, the crew had provided both you and jeremy with proper waterproof attire - your tights and long sleeve align top wouldn't cut it.

right before getting changed, jeremey had shown up and....he was much better looking in person. you hate yourself for even thinking that, and you almost feel guilty for daring to even have those thoughts about an nhl athlete. anytime you think an athlete is cute, you have that guilty feeling - you hate that it plays into that bunny stereotype, even though you'd never get on your podcast and solely discuss an athletes look.

regardless, you're not blind. jeremy swayman was taller than he looks, and broader than expected. he also smelt really good, and his smile had you feeling flustered. it had your online persona feeling more real, and your borderline flirty comments had you getting hot and bothered - especially when jeremy flirts and teases back.

off camera, you and jeremy (mostly jeremy) set up the fishing equipment on the dock; poles, extra bait, and even adorable little camping chairs - you really felt like you were getting the premium fisherman experience. he runs over simple fishing techniques and hacks, showing you how to keep ahold of the rod, how to reel your line and casting. the camera catches all your poor attempts, as well as jeremy covering his snicker behind his hand - his amusement at your poor cast very evident.

5 minutes into fishing

you jerk the rod slightly, trying the movements jeremy had showed you just two minutes prior - trying to snag any fish nibbling around your bait.

you sigh gently, pursing your glossy lips outwards. eyeing jermey, you ask, "so like what kind of fish are we exactly trying to catch?"

jeremy hums, "some perch would be nice. or possibly cod, or halibut..." he trails off, eyeing your confused face, and the look you're giving him has a subtle smirk tugging at his upper lip. he breathes a laugh, "you have no idea what I just said, do you?"

you bark an unattractive laugh, and that has jermey's smile deepening. "not a clue."

"that's okay," he assures you immediately, and his leg moves towards you like he was planning to knock your thighs together reassuringly. but your bodies don't touch, and it has you feeling a little disappointed. "everyone has their own interests. besides sports, what else do you like?" he looks towards you quickly, but looks back at the water when he feels his line tug slightly - nothing has bitten unfortunately.

you swing your fishing pole back and forth tiredly, enjoying the way the water ripples from your line moving on the surface. "oh god - honestly i'm into a lot of stuff; movies, books, fashion, food. you name it and i'm into it." you pause, eyeing him playfully. "you must not watch my podcast - I tend to talk about myself a lot."

jeremy looks back at you quickly, but once he sees that you're clearly being playful, his once tight shoulders relax, and he smiles gently. "maybe I get distracted when I watch your podcast and don't catch everything you say."

he was insinuating that he's distracted by your face - his teasing gaze and laughing smirk has you clueing into jermey's underlying undertones.

you clear your throat. you can feel heat rise to your makeup covered cheeks, and you advert your gaze back to the lake - trying to distract yourself from the whirling fluster caused by jermey's flirting. "well guess you'll just have to hear me talk about it all over again."

11 minutes into fishing

"what's your opinion on one direction, jeremy?"

he pauses from reeling his fishing line in momentarily, and a very small, breathy laugh falls from his tinted lips. jeremy looks at you, scratching his stubble in thought. "love them." he admits.

you smile automatically at jeremy's willingness to answer you absurd, random questions - just like he's been doing since you first meet through a zoom meeting for your podcast. your brows raise questionably though, not truly believing that a 25 year old man would vibe to a british teen boy group.

"okay," you hum questionably, "but who's your favourite?"

jeremy doesn't back down, keeping eye contact with you - reeling in his fishing line long forgotten. "who do you think it is?"

now you're invested. you squint at him, deep in thought. you look jermey once over, "probably zayn. yeah, you give big zayn vibes."

he smiles, brows pulled tightly. jeremy jerks his head at you, expression full of curiosity. "who's your favourite?"

"louis." you tell him.

jeremy laughs triumphantly, "i knew you'd be a louis girl."

you click your tongue, and adjust your seating position. without thinking, you let go of the fishing rod so you can push yourself upwards in the chair. before the most likely expensive rod takes a tumble into the misty water, jermey catches it, jolting across your thighs so he can grab it before it plunges.

you don't notice the chaotic series of events, and you smile, still thinking of the one direction conversation. "what can I say," you hum, " I like them a little wild."

jeremy eyes the camera - a mixture of amusement and fear on his face.

19 minutes into fishing

jeremy watches you intently, observing the way you change your bait. there'd been nothing caught yet, and honestly you were playing up the impatient act pretty well.

so, jermey suggested to change the bait on your hook. that way you'd not only be able to have a new opportunity to attract fish, but also learn how to change your lure.

he sighs gently, "okay, you're still not hooking it right." he leans closer to you, the arm rest digging into his muscled side.

"oh, shut up." you grumble, making sure your playful flare is very prevalent in your tone.

jeremy takes the pink bait from your fumbling fingers, properly demonstrating the correct way to attach it to the sharp hook. "you shut up." he echos you, nudging your side with his elbow - his hands not once leaving your fishing rod.

"make me." the underlying suggestiveness that can be taken from your remark doesn't dawn on you at first - but as soon as jeremy pauses, and gives the camera a knowing glance, brow quirked playfully, you realize your mistake.

you blush, and without really knowing what else to do, once jeremy fixes your lure and pulls away, you throw the extra fake fish at him, hitting his bicep.

25 minutes into fishing

"holy shit," you beam, eyeing jeremy beside you. when his posture suddenly changed, as well as his body position- muttering a curse under his breath, you knew something was happening. you watch him reel the line expertly, "do you have a fish right now?"

"yup," jeremy's tongue darts out, tucking against the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on reeling in his catch. it's not much labour for him to bring in the fish, effortlessly lifting it out of the water. it's a pretty big fish, you think, considering you've never seen a living fish this close.

he holds it expertly, detaching the hook lodged in the fishes throat. ones it's free, he switches hands so he's pinching the lip between two fingers, holding it out.

"oh my god, you're like really good at this." you compliment, tilting your head to get a better look at the side of the fish, eyeing its reflective, slippery scales.

"you like that, huh?" he spins the fish in between his fingers, allowing you to get a proper look at all angles. jeremy grins, eyes watching your wondrous face. "want to hold it?"

you frown unpleasantly, eyes darting between jermey's reassuring face and the scaly fish gripped in between his fingers. "I don't know?" it comes out like a question, your weariness about holding the fish clear.

"you got it," he assures you, "come here." he holds his free arm out, silently gesturing you to come towards him.

almost reluctantly, you take the few steps left between you, and stand beside him. the camera catches it all; jeremy practically gentle parenting you as he shows you how to properly hold the fish, the uncertain expression pulling at your face, and the shriek you let out when the fish starts to squirm around - its tail flapping up against your wrist.

"oh it's slimy," you state the obvious, holding it as far away from your body as human possible. it squirms again, and you can feel your fingers slipping away from their grip. you look at a smiling jeremy, who's clearly having fun watching you struggle. "jer, yup."

you gesture the fish at him, eyes darting between the aquatic animal and jeremy.

"he's fine." he smiles through gentle laughter.

"no, no, take the fish."

32 minutes into fishing

you reel in one last time, watching the fish come up from the waters surface, dangling off your hook. it's squirming around, water spraying all over.

jeremy comes up beside you, helping you bring your fishing pole upwards to properly display and hold the fish. "yes, y/n," he smiles praisingly. his arms come around you from behind, adjusting your positioning.

you're too distracted by the fish frolicking around at the end of your clear line to feel flustered by jeremy's closeness - paying no mind to the gentle way he helps you. "oh my god," you beam, "I just caught a fish."

"yeah you did!" jeremy nods encouragingly, slipping his body around to your side. he looks between the fish and your bright eyes, and he squeezes your bicep warmly - oh, he's still got an arm around you. "you gotta try and take it off the hook."

"no. jer, i'm scared!" you tell him immediately, "I can't do that."

"you can," he assures you, "just try once, and if you really feel uncomfortable after that, ill do it, okay?" his warm eyes stare into yours softly, providing a comforting vibe towards your clear uncertainty.

that combined with his sweet smile and the heat of his body, which, yes, his arm was still wrapped assuringly around your body, has you sighing shakily and you nod. "okay, i'll do it. i'll try just for you."

— tiktok video:

when you'd finished up filming, one of the producers who'd been off working in some white, pop-up tent while you'd be with jeremy, informed you that before leaving, they need you and jeremy to make a tiktok.

but surprisingly, they gave you and jeremy a lot of creative freedom with the direction of the video. meaning, you'd get to choose the audio and your positions and presentation of the tiktok.

"twin" the audio starts through the phone, and you mouth the beginning of the song. the camera catches you stepping out of one of the trucks, mimicking you as if you'd just got to the filming sight. you've still got your fishing gear on - rubber overalls and boots included.

the next shot is on jeremy, who you both decided would be at the picnic bench, looking like he was waiting for you. as the audio starts, he whips around towards the camera, lip syncing to the next line of the audio. "where have you been?" he points off camera at you, and his overalls squeak at the friction of movement.

you laugh at him behind the camera, stifling your laugh into a clenched fist. jermey finishes that part of the audio with a large wink in your direction, and you shake your head with amusement- a giant blush covering your cheeks.

"nobody knows me like you do." you're at the picnic table for the next part, and you previously decided to pretend one of the fishing rods was a microphone, singing into it sarcastically.

the audio continues, and jeremy comes into screen behind you, taking the fishing pole turned microphone to sing the next line. "nobody can't love me quite like you can."

the last remaining seconds of the audio, you wanted to capture you and jeremy from a distance. as an ode to your famous podcast episode clip, you and jeremy previously decided on recreating the dirty dancing lift for the video. right before beginning to film the last part, jeremy checks in on you to make sure that you're still feeling okay with being lifted, which sends your heart running rampant in your chest.

the camera is set to slow-mo, but in real life it feels like you're running a million miles an hour. the way jeremy easily lifts you into the air and over his head - his hands splay over the entirety of your hip bones, holding you steady.

you're glad for the ridiculous overalls in this moment, because you think if you'd be able to feel the warmth from his hands too close to your skin, you'd die.

10 minutes later, when you and jeremy are watching the video back, you get all those fluttering, nervous butterflies once again. he laughs against you, body just grazing your backside as he watches the tiktok over your shoulder.

as the lift plays out on the phone, he leans in closer, his chin gently brushing against your shoulder. out of the corner of your eye, you look at him. jeremy is smiling, eyes bright as he watches the end of the tiktok. his woodsy scent is intoxicating, and you can count every freckle sprinkled across his nose with him being so close.

suddenly, he looks at you. his smile doesn't falter, and if anything it changes into a more smirky, excited one. "that's a good one, don't you think?" briefly, you watch his eyes flicker away, landing farther down your flushed face before meeting your gaze again.

you nod once, blinking gently. "yes....really good."

— 9 months later: NHL ALL-STAR GAME

there's not a day that's gone by since the videos of you and jermey had been posted to the barstool media accounts, that you haven't been tagged, sent or mentioned in a clip of the two of you. fans loved you and jeremy, and still continued to blow up not only the fishing video and tiktok, but your podcast as well.

there's also not a day that's gone by since leaving jeremy in his rubberized overalls that you haven't thought of him. in the few conversations you've had face to face with him, you've been left feeling rather smitten and flustered with jeremy swayman. it doesn't help that before you left boston 9 months ago, jeremy had asked for your contact - all smooth and smirky. it obviously had you swooning and giving him your number.

so in all these months, you and jermey had been in contact. it started simple, with sweet check ins every couple days, you congratulating him on wins, and teasing him for his game day suits - but that soon turned into more flirtatious, and playful conversations. on a few occasions, you'd even sent him tiktok edits of himself, accompanied by a sequence of heart eye emojis from you.

jeremy would like and shamelessly comment on all your photos on instagram, and vice versa. which obviously has the shipping edits and comments spiralling to an unfathomable level. at first, you were worried that jeremy would feel uncomfortable with the fans wanting you two together, showing their support through comments and videos - but no, jeremy loved it all.

him having enjoyment in the relationship shipping between you both has you feeling even more into him - your feelings for jeremy growing stronger and stronger. that combined with fun text threads, edits and occasional facetimes from jeremy, has you crushing hard on the bruins goal tender.

two months ago, you had the nhl social administration and event team reached out to your team and ask if you'd been interested in interviewing nhl players on the red carpet for the nhl all star game. it was such a surreal moment and immediately you took the offer.

for the entire two months since accepting the opportunity to be an interviewer for the nhl social team, you'd been looking forward to the february, toronto bound event. the nhl administration has taken care of the expenses, as well as wardrobe and makeup for you - which is wild.

now here you are, standing on the red carpet while interviewing amazingly good nhl superstars. thankfully, you've meet and interviewed a lot of these guys on pucks in deeper, which leaves no room for awkwardness. the players know you and your style of interviewing, and that visibly has them lightning up from their previous over professional exteriors.

you're mid conversation with tom wilson, listening intently as he answers one of your more serious interview questions, when you feel your heart speed up.

it's weird - at first as you're not sure why exactly you've become nervous. you swallow, adjusting the mini-microphone by your painted lips - your gold bracelets clinking against each other. as subtly as you can manage, you let your eyes wander down the carpet, and it doesn't take you long to see and understand the sudden change in your hearts pace.

kids near the entrance of the arena are all calling for jeremy, their hands tightly holding out bruins memorabilia for him to sign.

the light catches the silver chain on jeremy's neck, complimenting his shining smile to make his grin look even brighter. you clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from jeremy and back towards your interviewee. thankfully, tom is clueless to your shift of mood, and is still happily answering into his own tiny microphone.

you've only got one more interview before you get to talk to jeremy. it's with mat barzal, who if you weren't so infatuated by the bruins goalie , you'd been shamelessly flirting with. you'd never had barzal on your podcast before, but that didn't matter - talking with him was anything but akward. it was nice, and (if you aren't going insane) you're pretty sure the islanders forward was flirting with you.

but you're too blinded by jeremy to entertain any of those thoughts. soon enough, he's next in queue, chatting to his assistant without realizing what exactly he's in line for.

you lock eyes as he is directed towards you, and immediately you feel yourself relax. your once tense shoulders fall back into a comfortable position, and your cheeks heat pleasantly as a smile automatically grows on your face. instinctively, you're falling into your interview shoes (currently very glamorous shoes). "you just can't stay away from me for too long, huh?" you tease him as your social director passes him the mini mic.

jermey's smile is matching yours, his gaze not leaving you as he takes the microphone, holding it tightly between two fingers. "what can I say? you look great!"

you drag your free hand down the front of your red dress, the soft material tickling the pads of your tanned fingers. "why thank you, jer. i've got to say i'm digging this look on you - much better than the boring suits you usually wear."

jeremy smiles at your lighthearted jab to his fashion choices. his last game, you'd given him slack on his boring suit choice and had followed with a text thread of insane, over the top suits you'd considered better options. "I was taking inspiration from the ones you'd sent me."

you hope fans don't piece together any insinuations from jermey's comment referencing your texts. although it has you blushing, you recover from your fluster relatively quickly, and you reach towards him, poking one of the black, shiny buttons on jeremy’s jacket. "and tell us what you're wearing mister fancy jacket."

he looks down at the material of his suit jacket, "i've got a custom todd snyder on - very comfortable and stylish. it's just what I was looking for when I was trying to find a jacket for this event."

you nod understandably, "yes, like cute and professional but also cozy."

your chipper tone has jeremy's smile growing. his warm tinted eyes go hazy, and they rather slowly watch you - tracing down your dress covered neck, down your bare arms, and all the way down to your painted toes peeking out your heels. his tongue wets his plump, bottom lip, and his eyes find yours again. "you look cute and cozy."

even if he's meaning it innocently, you can't help but think otherwise. what feels like the 20th time since the start of the interview, you blush. "were twins then." you shrug sweetly, as if to show the audience that the way you were speaking to one another was no big deal - hopefully they buy it …because you certainly don't.

jeremy’s smitten grin grows wider. he bites the skin of his bottom lip, tucking it between his teeth seductively. it's like he's in a trance, which usually would have you feeling creeped out or weird, but because it's jeremy and not some random guy, you feel your skin prickle pleasantly, and your knees begin to feel weak.

the camera man clears his throat - a subtle and gentle reminder that you're supposed to be interviewing jeremy, not eye fucking him.

you blink. "unfortunately, I have to get a little boring, jer. can you tell me and the viewers what you're looking forward to the most at all star weekend. sorry I know, boring and repetitive." you stick your tongue out, blowing a raspberry.

your noise mimicks a fart if anything, and jermey laughs a real laugh - all teeth and squinted eyes. he rubs his chin in thought, but comes up with an answer pretty quickly. for the first time tonight, his media training is kicking in. "i'm really looking forward to just spending time with all these amazing guys and having fun on the ice."

teasingly, you purse your painted lips, cocking your head to the left. "so not me?"

through his constant grin, jeremy clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth - nodding at your correction. "okay, maybe you too."

you give the camera lenses an unimpressed look, as if to say - is this guy being for real? you shake your head, playing into your annoyed persona. "since our fishing video together, which thank you to the fans for blowing that up -"

"- oh my good, yes, thank you." jeremy adds on, nodding thoughtfully.

you continue, "fans want to know...what is your favourite one direction song?"

jeremy exhales loudly, eyes bouncing between you and the camera lens - a whisper of a curse heard from under his breathe.

you nod understandably, "we've really got the hard hitting questions, so I can understand if you need to take a second to think-"

"kiss you." jermey interrupts with a triumphant tone, and he looks very proud of his answer.

"that was pretty fast - why kiss you?"

his slinky smile is back, and it has your stomach falling all the way down to your feet. "why not?" jeremy shrugs one suit covered shoulder nonchalantly, and the sleeve of his jacket brushes against your bare arm at the same time.

you smile, "what's been your favourite part of toronto so far?"

this time, jermey's answer is instant. "you."

you laugh proudly, nodding in approval. "that's a better answer."

behind the camera, one of the social directors holds up a pamphlet, one that she'd change throughout the night. it only ever said a last name - the last name of whichever nhl player was next and approaching your interview area. it was essentially a one minute warning, and she was trying to tell you to start wrapping up your conversation with jeremy.

disappointment pangs deep into your chest, the thought of having to part ways from jeremy is not one you enjoy.

reluctantly, you look away from the director holding william nylander's name up over the camera man, and set your gaze back on jeremy. "okay, i've got a two part question. firstly, are you up for a little challenge?"

he nods, "right now I think you could probably talk me into anything. so yes."

your heart flutters but you stay composed. "good. secondly, which celebrity team do you hope picks you? because personally i'm hoping you get team tate, so you can sneak me in for a picture with her."

jermey laughs again, his head rolling backwards. "obviously id be happy with any team, but if I get tate...I got you."

you smile brightly, "thanks jer."

"anytime."

"we appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to chat with us, we always love catching up with you."

"thank you for having me, y/n/n." the sudden nickname has your heart beat coming to a dramatic halt, and from now on all you ever want to hear is jeremy swayman's voice, saying your name over and over again.

there's a brief moment before nylander gets to your portion of the carpet - he is currently too caught up with screaming fans and paparazzi. the camera lens isn't focused on you as the camera man fiddles with some of the dials, affectively blocking the two of you from its view.

jeremy passes the tiny microphone back to you, and his fingers graze yours softly on the way back. you swallow nervously, meeting his gaze once more.

he clears his throat and suddenly he seems almost...nervous. he rubs his hand against his jawline scruff once, a nervous habit he’s always had. "hey, after the stuff going on tonight, a couple guys and their girlfriends were planning on getting dinner. I was wondering if you'd like to tag along?"

your eyes widen in suprise, "guys and their girlfriends?"

he breathes laugh, "yeah. I want you to come with me."

"okay," you nod bashfully, "i'll come."

you watch william nylander enter your queue behind jermey's broad shoulder, chatting happily with your director as she goes over the process. you've interviewed nylander before, so it will be another breezy and entertaining interview- especially with the swedes personality.

jeremy's grin is blinding, bringing you back into reality. "great," he sighs, "i'll text you after."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

-- DINNER

you take another hearty gulp of your spiced red wine, letting the clash of flavours sit on your tongue briefly before swallowing fully.

you're on your third - maybe fourth? - glass of your preferred wine, and sure, maybe you were using the buzz as a way to calm your erratic, exited heart. since jeremy had texted you after the events of the all star celebrity draft, you've been filled with happy butterflies - and only a part of that was because of the picture he sent you of him with tate mcrae.

jeremy had walked to your hotel room -he didn't want to just meet outside or just meet at the restaurant, he picked you up on the 10th floor of the expensive toronto hotel. he had complimented your new, dinner appropriate outfit - a shiny maroon top with sleek pants and jacket and you had shared the compliment back at him.

you had to clench your thighs together to calm yourself when you were right outside the extravagant glass entryway of the restaurant, pastrnak just seeing and waving you both over, when jeremy leaned down, lips brushing your ear and admitted he hadn't stopped thinking about you and your sexy little dress.

so, yeah, the wine was definitely needed. you stab one of the only remaining potatoes onto your expensive silverware, bringing it up and past your lips. you chew lazily, listening quietly to the conversations around you. after all, it had been a few hours of meaningless conversations since you and jeremy arrived - your borderline drunk brain needed a minute.

the potato was cold now, and the gravy coated it had that slimey film coating. you pull a face to yourself, chewing the mushy food quicker than before, trying to get to swallowing it faster.

fingers tickle your arm over the sheer material of your blouse - jacket long abandoned over the back of your chair. you look over to jeremy, who's got his arm rested loosely on top your jacket - the culprit of your bicep tickles.

he looks amused, "you okay?"

with no regards to the food in your mouth, you turn towards him and begin to speak. "my potato is cold."

jeremy chuckles lowly, continuing the leisure up and down motion with the pads of his fingers against your covered skin. "want to spit it out?" he can tell you're teetering on drunk, and he doesn't mind at all. you're at the perfect level of buzzed - still controlled and conscious, but also having no care in the world. jeremy feels pleased that you feel comfortable enough to let go with him, and he finds amusement with your usual laid back, humorous behaviour.

you shake your head, finally swallowing the food in your mouth. you turn your body into his, and push your body against the side of your chair, trying to get closer to the man beside you. jeremy raises his brows questionably, the start of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I don't spit."

the suggestive undertones to your words don't go unnoticed, and jeremy is spluttering. his cheeks tint pink, and he takes a harsh swallow. you bite down onto your lip to contain the flurry of giggles that want to pass, and you lean further into jermey's bicep behind you.

finally, he collects himself. behind you, you can feel his elbow bend, and with the new position he can come around to the side of your head - his fingers taking some of your hair between them, gently running through your strands. "no?"

you shake your head. "nuh uh."

"so, y/n." the sound of a fork hitting someone's plate combined with them calling your name, has you pulling away and out of jermey's personal bubble. you're back to the reality of who you are and what you're doing here - not just at dinner tonight, but in toronto this week. you're supposed to be a professional. your cheeks flush with the guilt of feeling caught - even though you're not actually doing anything wrong.

kenna, mat barzal's girlfriend, is looking at you expectantly, her pointed chin resting on her tanned palm. you resist the urge to huff at the sight of her sour face. since the start of the evening, kenna has been very passive aggressive towards you - no compliment was given without a condescending remark. not only that, but mat had been very flirty and friendly with you since the red carpet, and although you've been unresponsive to him, it only fuelled kenna's fire.

she hums in faux interest, eyeing you and jeremy. "so like, it must be nice with your podcast and having the pick of like any and every nhl player you want, huh?"

a couple of people sitting at the lengthy table hear, and they look down at you quickly. you laugh awkwardly, eyes briefly meeting the crisp, white table cloth below you. you shrug, "I suppose? everyone is really nice, and i'm very grateful for their support."

she laughs, "I mean, like, do you just like, fuck any of them?"

her words are like a stab to your chest. all those derogatory hate comments and misogynistic remarks come rushing back to you. you don't know what to say, even though no, you've never hooked up or dated any nhl player, especially while you're working with them. but you can also understand why kenna would think that - the way you're cuddling up and talking with jeremy is very much telling.

that guilty feeling is back, and all you can do is just stare at kenna's smug face - mouth open wordlessly.

"I don't think it's any of your business, honestly." jeremy’s voice is firm, but not unkind, as he responds for you. "it's nobody business but hers. y/n is ridiculously good at her job, and she is way past the point of having to prove that she's serious about her work."

kenna laughs it off, mentioning something about just playing around as she takes another sip of her mixed drink. the conversation slowly starts up around you again, and without the attention focused on you and the awkward exchange, you feel like you can finally exhale.

you look at over at jeremy, your eyes glossy and wide. his expression is hard, and his brows are pulled tightly together in irritation.

"you didn't need to say anything...I'm used to those kind of comments." you try and dismiss your feelings - trying to lighten the mood, but jeremy doesn't buy it.

he shakes his head, "you shouldn't have to deal with that - especially from some douche bags girlfriend."

the end of his sentence has you cracking into a smile, a breathy laugh following. "thank you." you take a quick inhale, stopping your quiet laughter. your face turns serious again, "but I don't do that - i'm not some crazed, horny, puck bunny in disguise. that's not what this is." you gesture between the two of you without thinking, and you feel your lips falling into a frown - your emotions catching up to you.

jeremy mimics your frown, and before he can stop himself, he reaches out and takes ahold of your hand. he gently keeps ahold of you, bringing your hand down to rest on his lap. jeremy runs his thumb along the wrinkles of your palm, soothing you. "you don't need to justify anything to me."

you nod silently.

"ready to head out?" jeremy questions gently. you answer yes quickly, letting jeremy help you out of your seat and into your winter jacket. he gives david some money - enough to cover both of your meals before he guides you out of the restaurant, hand in yours.

the walk back to the hotel is pleasant, the once lingering awkward feeling from the restaurant vanishing once you and jeremy were alone. like earlier in the night, jeremy comes to your hotel door - he doesn't suggest that you'll go your separate ways once in the elevators, or part ways in the lobby, he doesn't even hesitate to walk you back.

before you swipe your key card in the holder, you torn to face jeremy. you smile, leaning your bodies weight onto the closed hotel door. "I had a nice time tonight, jer - although I think it's only because you were there."

he laughs gently, "i'm glad you came."

you cringe at yourself and your rather rude insinuation about everyone else at the restaurant tonight - even if it was true. "sorry, when I drink wine I have a hard time controlling my mouth."

jeremy shuffles closer to you, so subtle that you don't even register him moving. he shrugs, "I don't mind. they deserve it."

you giggle. "and you also look really good - like, all the time. I haven't stopped thinking about you in fucking, like, 9 months." you shake your head, "sorry - the wine." you remind him.

"don't apologize, if wine makes you say things like that, I never want you to stop drinking it." jeremy reaches out to you, resting his large hand on the side of your jaw. his thumb strokes your ear lobe softly, running over your studded earring.

your stomach swoops, silently looking up at him. jeremy is so much taller than you, standing over you like a damn giant. the position of you two has you feeling small - sexy. your tongue darts out, wetting your lips. your lipstick has faded throughout the night, and your spit adds more colour to them - more appeal.

but jeremy thinks you've never not looked like the most beautiful, amazing, appealing woman he's ever seen. he smirks slowly, a warm, syrupy feeling in the air around you. "I really like you, y/n - so much that it's kind of embarrassing."

you smile, "I don't think it's embarrassing, especially because I feel the same way....but I think my wine mouth gave that away."

"it sort of did." he teases.

you huff gently, eyes twinkling with amusement. before you can say anything back, jeremy leans down and kisses you. the wine flavours mix between you, and the exchange of quick kisses combined with slow, tongue chasing kisses making your knees buckle.

jeremy presses you further against the door, his thigh slotting between yours to provide an extra form of stimulation. you sigh into his mouth, holding onto his shoulders warmly as you continue to make out in the hotel hallway.

reluctantly, you pull away. you're breathing heavy, heart pumping loudly through your ears from the adrenaline high. "maybe we should clam down - we're in public."

"shhh," kiss. "just a little bit more." his words are mumbled, his lips brushing against yours. jeremy’s lips find yours again, and all your worries float away.

you blindly grab ahold of your key card, and it takes a couple of attempts of trying to slide it through without the use of your vision - but you get it. jeremy’s lips don't leave yours, and you don't want them too. he uses his body to push you both through the door and into the hotel room, kicking the door shut with his dress shoe behind him.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #❣️answered #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #jeremy swayman imagine #jeremy swayman fic #hockey fic #boston bruins imagine #boston bruins fic #nhl blurb #nhl smut #hockey blurb #jeremy swayman x reader

373 notes · View notes

my-my-my · 3 months ago

Text

Let’s talk about Shunsui’s bankai, Katen Kyokotsu: Karamatsu Shinju!

There are different translations for it, with Viz’s translation being “Flower Crazed Heaven Bone Spirit Withered Pine Love Suicide.” Personally it’s not my favourite translation, I prefer this fan one “bones of heavenly blooming madness: withering pine lovers’ suicide.” Kubo apparently went through different variations for the name of katen kyokotsu: karamatsu shinju. At first it was kuromatsu, which is a specific pine tree (“black pine”), then it was karematsu which is “withered pine,” to what we have now, karamatsu – “withering pine.” Which is a more fitting name imo due to the nature of Shunsui’s bankai causing everyone in its range to “wither” with depression.

I wanted to focus on the anime depiction of his bankai because I personally found it enhanced my understanding of Shunsui and his bankai more than the manga did, but that’s not to say there’s anything wrong with the manga! I’ll also be adding bits of manga panels/sketches too. There are little additions in the anime that really fleshed out the “theatrical” nature of his bankai.

Content warning: this is TEXT and media heavy (images and video) and due to the nature of Shunsui's bankai, discusses suicide.

To preface this, I wrote this because I was so enthralled by the visual and sound design in the episode that I wanted to know more, so I figured I would share what I found and learned! Also, I’m still not too sure what kind of “play” Shunsui bankai performs (as in, is it Noh, kabuki, joruri, etc.), but maybe it’s a little bit of everything? I don’t have the cultural knowledge to make better sense of it, so you’ll see me referencing different theatre styles in my write-up lol. I am by no means an expert, just sharing what I’ve learned and understood!

For reference, noh uses masks and subtle movements where stories are often spiritual. Kabuki is dramatic and incorporates dance, music and elaborate costumes. In ancient times, noh theatre started as rituals for Shinto shrines (the Ise family is a Shinto family as an fyi).

To start – the opening act itself: Shunsui calling his bankai. We are immediately hit by a change in visuals and audio. A tsuzumi drum is heard, which is often used to signal the start of a kabuki or noh play. We also see the scenery change into a gold colour. I think this is to mimic the wooden stage kabuki and noh plays occur on.

Then we have the kakegoe being yelled (the “yooo”). This is a quintessential feature of noh and kabuki theatre and (prior to COVID-19), would be yelled by the audience (typically fans who belong to a kakegoe association). Another fun fact, these would be yelled from the far back, on the highest level of the theatre, to represent the voice of the “great beyond.” Kakegoe is often used to signal the beginning or ending of a section. The kakegoe also dictate the pace, meter and strength of the play in addition to the percussion instruments.

youtube

Visually, we only see Shunsui “painting” a black pine tree. All noh plays have a simple panel of a green pine tree. This is referred to as the kagami-ita (“mirror panel”). All noh plays are performed in front of this pine tree. The pine tree represents gods that have descended upon a pine tree at the Kasuga-Taisha Shrine and stood behind the audience, so the pine tree “reflects” on the audience so actors would give a performance to god.

I think Kubo does a subversion here, as the kagami-ita’s meaning is to represent the stage as a “divine” space. But this is a withering pine tree – it’s black, and is not painted behind Shunsui, but is painted in front and spreads almost in a downward motion. As Lille descends, there is no pine tree behind him, even though he is a “divine” being. While a black pine tree represents “longevity,” “happiness,” and “hope” in Japanese floral language, a withering pine represents the opposite. Shunsui’s bankai reflects his despair over his brother, sister-in-law and Nanao.

Overall, I think it’s deliberate take on using a traditional theatre technique, one that is considered “divine” and twist it to something almost opposite. As if Shunsui is welcoming Lille into his own personal hell.

ACT 1: Tameraikizu no Wakachiai – Sharing the Wounds of Hesitation

"As though to share in his suffering, the wounds upon his partner's body appear upon his own. Yet in a cruel twist of fate, he cannot die from those wounds."

I think the common idea is that Shunsui’s bankai is based off the play “The Love Suicides at Sonezaki,” by Chikamatsu Monzaemon. But I think it’s just Act 1 that represents that play. I think Kubo incorporated different plays and cultural features for each act, and this is the one for Act 1. I think there was a Klub Outside answer where Kubo implies that there are different plays Shunsui's bankai can perform.

Also to note, in the manga when Shunsui brings out his bankai, the chapter sketch are kabuki curtains.

Act 1 is loosely similar to “The Love Suicides at Sonezaki,” where the man stabs both himself and his partner to death, and they die from his wounds. They do this in front of an unusual pine tree and the play ends. The reason leading up to their suicide is entirely different and doesn’t narratively fit into Shunsui and his life imo.

Metaphorically, I interpreted this as Shunsui’s grief over the Ise curse. The Ise curse is the wound, killing Shunsui’s brother (physical pain) leaving him and his sister-in-law (Nanao’s mother) to “share” the wound (in emotional pain).

ACT 2: Zanki no Shitone – The Bed of Shame

“Lamenting that he has caused his partner such wounds, the man collapses upon the floor in shame and is consumed by an incurable ailment.”

This was a short scene in the anime and I think this is referencing an act in Yotsuya Kaidan, one of the “big three ghost stories” of Japan. It’s based on betrayal, murder and revenge. The plot is quite long not entirely relevant to Act 2 lol but in one of the acts, a character is betrayed and becomes poisoned. This may vary by interpretation, but the character looks “diseased.” They become disfigured, die by an accidental self-inflicted wound and begin cursing/haunting those that wronged them.

Aside from that, I couldn’t find much more in terms of references this act might be incorporating.

ACT 3: Dangyo no Fuchi – The Abyss

“Resigning themselves to their fate, the two hurl themselves into the gushing waters until no Reiatsu remains in their bodies.”

“Throwing oneself into icy waters can test one’s resolve. But that’s you being selfish. How can disgraceful can you be? The disgrace of the man she swore herself to. Only pity keeps her with him and bound to this world.”

The above is the full quote said simultaneously by Shunsui and Katen and I think is a reference to Kasane, a kabuki play. It is a story about a woman who unknowingly falls in love with her mother’s affair partner/father’s murderer. The man, Yoemon, leaves a suicide note that Kasane, his lover, finds. She’s distraught and keeps reminding Yoemon that they swore they would die together. They argue between themselves, with Yoemon saying he cannot love Kasane due to their stations in life (she is a lady-in-waiting, he is a servant). They both agree to jump into a river, but the man backs out, which leads to the woman being cursed into a demon.

The reason why she becomes cursed is because Yoemon sees a floating skull floating down the river. Katen Kyokotsu who has skull motifs in her design, is also a reference to the kyokotsu, a vengeful spirit that resides in wells and other bodies of water to scare its victims. It is a skull with tangled hair and tattered clothes. Yoemon, in the play, only sees the skull floating down the river before he tries to break it. As he tries to break it, he simultaneously harms Kasane, leaving her in a demonic state.

Without summarizing the whole play, I see Kubo’s take on this as another twist. Kasane is a story about a woman so in love, she’s blinded to the faults of her lover to her own detriment (she becomes disfigured and killed by her lover). In Act 3 of Shunsui’s bankai, the “woman” in the play (Shunsui in this case to “the man” who is Lille), is ashamed of the man and there is no more love between them – the only thing keeping them together in this act of potential suicide is her pity.

Both parties, in the play and Shunsui’s act 3, are “forced” to watch the other die.

ACT 4: Itokiribasami Chizome no Nodobue – Thread-Cutting Scissors upon a Blood-Streaked Throat

“Few things are as cruel as a woman's mercy. She has no ears for her lover's desperate pleas. At his precious throat, she spies glistening white threads, damp with regret. Thus, she resolves to sever with her own hands those threads of regret that pitifully entwine him.”

I saw some theories that this act may be a reference to kuchisake-onna (“split-mouthed woman”), because she carries scissors with her. I’m not too sure of it, I think this might be a broader reference to the red thread of fate, and Shunsui/the lover “cutting” it to split from their shared fate. In the manga, the little sketch is a pair of Japanese thread cutting scissors.

In this case, it’s interesting that “white thread” is what’s being cut (compared to “red thread” which is more commonly seen in Japanese media). White thread, in Shintoism is often considered a sacred colour of the gods and represents spiritual and physical purity. In Buddhism, white thread is used to protect a person against demons and spirits…

I’ve always interpreted the sketch to be Nanao’s mother cutting the thread between her and Kyoraku, leaving him alone (in a familial sense). The subsequent sketch is the broken thread being tied together, which I think is Nanao’s presence in Shunsui’s life.

Thanks for reading all of this! I’m still 🫣 over writing all of this lol.

#bleach #kyoraku shunsui #kyouraku shunsui #shunsui kyoraku #shunsui kyouraku #bleach kyoraku #bleach shunsui #bleach meta #a writes #what a word dump

120 notes · View notes

lotus-tower · 1 year ago

Text

COVID-19's long-term effects on the body: an incomplete list

COVID’s effect on the immune system, specifically on lymphocytes:

NYT article from 2020 (Studies cited: https://www.biorxiv.org/content/10.1101/2020.05.18.101717v1, https://www.biorxiv.org/content/10.1101/2020.05.20.106401v1, https://www.unboundmedicine.com/medline/citation/32405080/Decreased_T_cell_populations_contribute_to_the_increased_severity_of_COVID_19_, https://www.medrxiv.org/content/10.1101/2020.06.08.20125112v1)

https://www.biorxiv.org/content/10.1101/2022.01.10.475725v1

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/science.abc8511 (Published in Science)

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9057012/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/williamhaseltine/2022/04/14/sars-cov-2-actively-infects-and-kills-lymphoid-cells/

https://www.cleveland.com/news/2022/10/in-cleveland-and-beyond-researchers-begin-to-unravel-the-mystery-of-long-covid-19.html

SARS-CoV-2 infection weakens immune-cell response to vaccination: NIH-funded study suggests need to boost CD8+ T cell response after infection

https://www.merckmanuals.com/professional/hematology-and-oncology/leukopenias/lymphocytopenia

https://thetyee.ca/Analysis/2022/11/07/COVID-Reinfections-And-Immunity/

Dendritic cell deficiencies persist seven months after SARS-CoV-2 infection

https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fimmu.2022.1034159/full

https://www.n-tv.de/politik/Lauterbach-warnt-vor-unheilbarer-Immunschwaeche-durch-Corona-article23860527.html (German Minister of Health)

Anecdotal evidence of COVID’s effects on white blood cells:

https://twitter.com/DrJohnHhess/status/1661837956875956224

https://x.com/TristanVeness/status/1661565201345564673

https://twitter.com/TristanVeness/status/1689996298408312832

Much more if you speak to Long Covid patients directly!

Related information of interest:

China approves Genuine Biotech's HIV drug for COVID patients

COVID as a “mass disabling event” and impact on the economy:

https://www.ctvnews.ca/health/report-says-long-covid-could-impact-economy-and-be-mass-disabling-event-in-canada-1.6306608

https://x.com/inkblue01/status/1742183209809453456?s=20

COVID’s impact on the heart:

https://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/world-news/deadly-virus-could-lead-heart-31751263 (Research from: Japan's Riken research institute)

https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/national/queensland/unlike-flu-covid-19-attacks-dna-in-the-heart-new-research-20220929-p5bm10.html

https://www.mdpi.com/2077-0383/12/1/186

https://medicalxpress.com/news/2023-04-mild-covid-effects-cardiovascular-health.html

https://publichealth.jhu.edu/2022/covid-and-the-heart-it-spares-no-one

https://www.bhf.org.uk/informationsupport/heart-matters-magazine/news/coronavirus-and-your-health/is-coronavirus-a-disease-of-the-blood-vessels (British Heart Foundation)

COVID’s effect on the brain and cognitive function:

https://www.openaccessgovernment.org/article/brain-infection-by-sars-cov-2-lifelong-consequences/171391/

https://www.cidrap.umn.edu/covid-19/study-shows-covid-leaves-brain-injury-markers-blood

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/jul/08/warning-of-serious-brain-disorders-in-people-with-mild-covid-symptoms

Cognitive post-acute sequelae of SARS-CoV-2 (PASC) can occur after mild COVID-19

Neurologic Effects of SARS-CoV-2 Transmitted among Dogs

https://journals.lww.com/nsan/fulltext/2022/39030/neurological_manifestations_and_mortality_in.4.aspx

https://www.salon.com/2023/06/17/new-evidence-suggests-alters-the-brain--but-the-extent-of-changes-is-unclear/

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/covid-virus-may-tunnel-through-nanotubes-from-nose-to-brain/

https://neurosciencenews.com/post-covid-brain-21904/

https://www.thelancet.com/journals/lanpsy/article/PIIS2215-0366(22)00260-7/fulltext

https://medicalxpress.com/news/2022-08-covid-infection-crucial-brain-regions.html

https://news.ecu.edu/2022/08/04/covid-parkinsons-link/

Covid as a vascular/blood vessel disease:

https://www.salon.com/2020/06/01/coronavirus-is-a-blood-vessel-disease-study-says-and-its-mysteries-finally-make-sense/

https://www.salon.com/2023/12/27/brain-damage-caused-by-19-may-not-show-up-on-routine-tests-study-finds/

https://www.nih.gov/news-events/news-releases/sars-cov-2-infects-coronary-arteries-increases-plaque-inflammation

https://www.mdpi.com/2077-0383/12/6/2123

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2021/10/211004104134.htm (microclots)

Long Covid:

Post-COVID-19 Condition in Canada: What we know, what we don’t know, and a framework for action

https://www.ctvnews.ca/health/coronavirus/more-than-two-years-of-long-covid-research-hasn-t-yielded-many-answers-scientific-review-1.6235227

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/london/cause-of-long-covid-symptoms-revealed-by-lung-imaging-research-at-western-university-1.6504318

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/long-covid-study-montreal-1.6521131

https://news.yale.edu/2023/12/19/study-helps-explain-post-covid-exercise-intolerance

Other:

- Viruses and mutation: https://typingmonkeys.substack.com/p/monkeys-on-typewriters

Measures taken by the rich and world leaders

Heightened risk of diabetes

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jama/fullarticle/2805461

https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-022-00912-y

Liver damage:

https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/mumbai/46-of-covid-patients-have-liver-damage-study/articleshow/97809200.cms?from=mdr

tl;dr: covid is a vascular disease, not a respiratory illness. it can affect your blood and every organ in your body. every time you're reinfected, your chances of getting long covid increase.

avoid being infected. reduce the amount of viral load you're exposed to.

the gap between what the scientific community knows and ordinary people know is massive. collective action is needed.

#putting this somewhere at least as reference for... somebody hopefully #covid #disability #y'all. it is bleak out there but some very good people are doing their best to help #we need as many people aware and helping as possible

465 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 1 year ago

Text

Glory Hole

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

We all probably know a glory hole is a place, typically in a bathroom, where people can pay for an anonymous sexual encounter. Here's what I didn't know before digging into this kink a lot more, though!

Glory holes have been used for hundreds of years but are believed to have originated or grown most popular among the LGBTQIA community. It was a safe way for closeted members of the community to be able to have sex with someone without risking their identity being revealed. Glory holes have resurged in popularity since 2020 due to the CDC and WHO being unable to provide people with ideas for safe sex during the Covid 19 pandemic. They can now be found in sex clubs, legal practicing brothels, and a ton of other locations. Typically, oral is what commonly happens with glory holes, but modern motivation and technology have made so much more possible with them, allowing both parties to receive pleasure and enjoy the experience.

The appeal of glory holes is the anonymous aspect of it. Sex with a stranger is always more thrilling, right? There's no expectations. You aren't as focused on impressing them. It is about pleasure and pleasure only, and that is the appeal that has made so many people fall in lust with the idea of them.

At least, Cassian will think that's pretty exciting.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Cassian x Reader

Warnings - reader is a sex worker, sketchy business practice, inferred danger, dp via toy use, toy use, p in v, unprotected sex, restraints, praise, Liz throwing possible fic content into what's supposed to be one shots. Sorry, friends 💕💕

You sighed as you walked into the pleasure hall for the night.

To the outside world, it was no different than Rita's. Drinks, loud music, a dance floor. The only difference was the upstairs of the hall.

Whereas Rita's had private booths, here had something much much different. For a pretty penny, only the wealthiest of guests could enter and be taken into a whole new experience kept private from the High Lord himself.

You were led up the steps, already going numb to what you had to do to pay bills, to stay alive. You entered the room males and females alike stood in. It was a haven here, a place you all could run to after one too many clients as you were asked to call them. A board with countless messages and warnings on clients who were banned sat on the largest wall. Every day, each of you received a new assignment, a new place you were to be stationed and kept until you were purchased and moved into a new room for the time allowed.

You did not know if the Mother was blessing you or mocking you as you read your assignment, “The Hole.” One of your coworkers, a new girl fresh out of school, came next to you, taking your hand. “You can take the lay down spot,” you squeezed her hand gently. “It's your first time in there. You'll want it.”

“I heard we'll make good money tonight.” You smiled at her, kissing her forehead as you walked her towards the room.

“You'll make your rent within two hours. We have an 8 hour shift, so you'll be able to safely afford recovery time off. Or a spa trip.”

Cassian hated being used by Azriel for spywork.

The general was hardly stealthy, too bold and loud to keep secrets, and frankly, everyone knew who he was. This was one spy scout out he was salivating at the idea of, though. A pleasure hall with a brothel hidden above it. A brothel that was hidden so well it and its workers had sat under Rhysand's nose for years, dodging thousands in taxes.

Nesta accidentally told Azriel about it after doing something to him that had the spymaster seeing the heavens. “A pretty female taught me when I went to Haven once.”

Haven wasn't an unknown pleasure hall to them. The inner circle would go there when they wanted more of a party atmosphere than Rita's offered, but Nesta had unknowingly confirmed a rumor that had been circling the court for years.

The large sum of gold in Cassian's pocket was a heavy reminder of why he was here. He handed the guard of the club 100 gold, a steep price just to be taken up the the brothel, and almost had a heart attack when he entered.

It was the cleanest whore house he had ever been in. The females all wore dresses similar to what Rhysand dressed Feyre in for the court of Nightmares. The men wore silk boxers. Cassian was approached by a pretty blonde with a menu of services they offered. One section stood out to him, though. “Anonymous Sex.” It was 800 gold, 2 hour time limit, a room with two females, a female and a male, or two males. “The females room please.”

The blonde smiled, head tilted almost longingly. “You're the first in there tonight. My girls will think they've been blessed with a God.”

He almost died again upon entering. Inside the large room, a wall of toys and discipline implements say, chairs in case you had brought friends with you, and a sink for aftercare for the girls. What really had Cassian stirring, thinking he was going to partake instead of question, was the two naked females, one on her back with her feet positioned into a harness, the other standing bent over whatever lied beyond that wall. All he could see was their lower bodies, wet and waiting with anticipation.

And the best part, the absolute best part? They could not see an inch of him.

You could hear the new girl crying out to any Gods that would listen as the wet sound of flesh smacking against each other was rhythmic. It was rare for one guest to enter the room normally reserved for parties of 2 or 3, but who were you to just if someone wanted to pay to have females to themselves.

It had happened once before in your time here. The female had not thought any of you would know who she was, but a sandy blonde female with grey eyes spending and tipping so freely and without concern was clearly a high ranking member of the court. And from the glimpse you had gotten, it was clearly Nesta Archeron.

You wanted to applaud when you heard your partner finishing. It was a genuine completion, not her faking the orgasm, training you all had and thanked the Cauldron for daily. You were dripping, but would have been content with being left alone. Maybe that's why you were so surprised when a harsh smack landed on your ass, cracking through the air and sending pleasure through you like a wave.

Cassian was memorizing the scent of both of the females in front of him. He wasn't going to waste the gold he had already spent to get into the brothel and into this room, so instead, he made the choice to mix work with pleasure, and fuck both of these girls until he could stand it anymore.

He left the first girl, dripping his cum and hers while she whimpered, legs visibly shaking. She had a preference for gentler sex, no aftercare. Whereas the girl, who's ass he was currently stroking himself to the sight of, had a preference for rough, toys allowed, aftercare preferred.

He saved her for last for that reason alone.

Cassian looked at the wall of toys, eyes locked on a thick dildo and lube and went to grab them. He set the lube down after taking some on his hand, rubbing it on the toys and then her pretty waiting holes. If she liked rough sex and toys, then fine, he'd stuff her full, filling both of those pretty waiting holes.

“Pretty thing, aren't you,” he purred, voice laced with lust. “We'll see how pretty you are when I'm done with you.”

You jumped in surprise and moaned as the male behind you began working a toy into your back entrance slowly. It was suddenly torture to be in the restraints they used to keep you both in place, to prevent you from ruining the allusion that the fae paying for these rooms were unknown to everyone. Every slow inch stretching had your body igniting, wanting you to beg for more.

You whimpered once it was fully inside of you, wiggling your hips in a silent plea. “Eager little thing.” That voice, Gods that voice, it had your cunt twitching around nothing. “Oh don't worry, kitten, I plan on filling that too.”

And Gods did he. That stretch started after a few sloppy thrusts of the dildo, and you could have sworn you saw the Mother once he was seated inside of you.

He either had the largest cock you've ever taken, or, the use of the toy made it seem that way. He gave you a few moments, cooing praise to you as a large calloused hand ran the outsides of your thighs.

The first roll of his hips inside of you did have you seeing the Mother. His cock was heavy and perfect, rubbing every nerve in your velvety walls. Once his testing was over, you felt those hands grip your hips, bruising them instantly, and he began.

This male began fucking you like both of your lives depended on your orgasm. He fucked you like he owned you, like he owned that peak of pleasure he was quickly driving you to. Between his cock and the toy, you were stuffed full and so sensitive, mind going numb and you moaned, cried, and begged.

He was so deep inside of you he hit places others had easily failed to. “Fuck you feel like Heaven, kitten.”

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, a soft “Thank you, sir,” leaving your mouth as you began to twitch around him.

Cassian was lost in the softness, warmth and wetness of this female's heat.

He would have paid 800 gold just for her. For just one hour with her. Each twitch of her silk had him on edge, ready to pump his seed so deep into her every single fae trying to fuck her afterwards would have to use him as lubricant.

She tightened around him again, moans becoming higher in pitch and more desperate. “Gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna cum around my cock? Cum with that toy in your ass like a good whore?”

He was practically begging for it knowing he was going to finish in what he felt was embarrassingly record time. One of his hands moved to her clit, groaning as she gasped and wailed loudly. “That's it baby, cum for me.”

Those skilled fingers circled your clit over and over in time with him fucking into you with reckless abandonment. You were right on that edge, ready to fall, and then he growled. The noise so primal it shot through your body like an arrow, and in true nature, you came.

You came so hard you saw the cosmos, the afterlife, the ocean. Your high ripped through you like a tidal wave, walls milking him as he roared behind you.

You heard him him lean against the wall, panting as he gave a few sloppy finishing twitchs. He pulled himself and the toy out at the same time, chuckling as you whined from the sudden emptiness. You heard him following protocol, washing the toy and setting it on the table closest to you so any Other clients knew who it had been used on.

The warm rag he used to clean you while he whispered to you gently was almost better than the sex as it wiped away the remnants and dripping reminders of this sin.

Something made you pause, though, the rough sound of leathery wings flapping.

You replayed the voice in your head over and over after he left. Thinking to where you had heard it before and then whispered, “Oh fuck.” Your hand slapped the release for the restraints and you stepped out and into the room, grabbing your robe and pulling it to the other side as you did. You touched the new girl's leg, “I'll be right back, babe. We have a problem.”

You left the room, entering the hall quickly. You made eye contact with the front desk girl, then the Illyrian male leaving tips for you and your partner.

Cassian, the general of the Night Court, paused as he saw you. He smirked, but that quickly fell when you hit a button. On the wall and the fae lights died, the establishment was going dark.

The female before him began to glow. “You should leave before she gets the owner.” Cassian blinked, confused as to what was happening. “Big daddy doesn't like having his business potentially fucked with. He's killed for less. Leave before she gets him. It won't end well if you don't.”

Cassian heard movement in the room, cursing himself for not wearing his siphons and left, throwing gold on the table for the females.

He called for Rhysand to send Azriel as he walked through that shady part of Velaris alone. His shoulders fell in relief as his brothers both walked beside him in time.

“One,” he started. “I just had the best sex experience of my life.”

“Two,” he sighed. “It's fucking expensive, Rhys. The common citizen isn't getting in there unless they've saved for months.”

He turned to Azriel, “They call the owner Big Daddy.”

The shadowsinger paled before masking his concern. “Let's winnow,” he said firmly. “I do not feel like dealing with him tonight.”

General tag list:

Rhys nodded, grabbing Cassian's arm and then Azriel's. “Let's go home, and then I want to hear about this sex.”

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#acotar #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian smut #cassian of illyria #lord of bloodshed #cassian acotar #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

321 notes · View notes

featherquillpen · 6 months ago

Text

The Ten Best Books I Read This Year

In order of when I read them, not how much I liked them.

Yellowface by R.F. Kuang

A novel about a white author who uses yellowface to achieve literary success. I don't usually read realistic fiction, but I loved Kuang's fantasy novel Babel so I gave this one a try. It is difficult to read, but unputdownable. It's like watching a trainwreck because you just have to see how bad it gets. A takedown of the publishing industry in all its ugliness.

2. Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

This is exactly the kind of sci-fi I most desire. It's a deradicalization story told from the point of view of a far-right zealot slowly deradicalizing herself. I really enjoyed the insights into exactly what it takes for a dangerously radicalized teenager to change her mind.

3. The Saint of Bright Doors by Vajra Chandrasekera

A novel about a Chosen One who walks away from his destined mission and joins group therapy for failed messiahs. Unquestionably the best book on this list. Mind-blowingly excellent. It's as funny as the premise makes it sound, but also deeply profound, politically astute, and the best new spec fic of the COVID-19 era. Big plague CWs here.

4. El Nunca Más de las locas by Matías Máximo

A non-fiction book about the experiences of LGBTQ people in Argentina in the 1970s and 80s. Only available in Spanish, sorry gringues. The book is not only a great work of scholarship, but way more poetically written than I'm used to from history books. Please more historians write with this level of prose, it really adds something.

5. True Biz by Sara Nović

Again, I don't usually read realistic fiction, but this novel by a Deaf author about a year in the life of a Deaf school really grabbed me. It made me cry a whole bunch, and it took me on a compelling tour of Deaf culture, from former cochlear implant users to CODAs to multigenerational Deaf families.

6. Siren Queen by Nghi Vo

A novel about making it big in the golden age of Hollywood when you're Chinese-American and all the studio execs are fae monsters. I've read novellas by Nghi Vo and loved them so I wanted to graduate to her full novels. Oh my god. She really is such a good writer it makes me foam at the mouth. Magic and fae bargains are such good metaphors for Hollywood.

7. Tell Me I'm Worthless by Alison Rumfitt

Trans horror that endeavors to explain why the UK is LIke That. And boy, does it ever succeed. This book calls for basically every imaginable content warning, but it's so worth it. The audiobook deserves a special shout-out; huge props to Nicky Endres for the spine-chilling and sometimes hilarious performance.

8. The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo

After Siren Queen I needed more Nghi Vo as soon as possible, so I got this magical AU of The Great Gatsby told from Jordan Baker's point of view. The magic does add something to Gatsby's parties, but the book is at its best when it delves into the parts that Fitzgerald never touched: Jordan Baker's inner life and her history with Daisy.

9. The Sapling Cage by Margaret Killjoy

Trans anarchist witches? Trans anarchist witches with leftist infighting??? Margaret Killjoy once again I thank you for my life. I love how this book shows you very directly how anarchist societies work on a day to day basis, as well as the problems they face.

10. Pests: How Humans Create Animal Villains by Bethany Brookshire

An amazing non-fiction book about the animals we love to hate. The book's take on controversial issues like white-tailed deer management is very nuanced and takes into account important dynamics of settler colonialism and how it affects all of our relationships with the animals close to us.

#book recs #book review

69 notes · View notes

whilereadingandwalking · 6 months ago

Text

I purchased The Old Man Who Read Love Stories by Luis Sepúlveda, translated by Peter Bush, in a small bookshop in Buenos Aires in Fall 2022. Sepúlveda, an Chilean author who lived in exile in Spain for much of his life, had been one of the first causalities of Covid-19. My body and heart were still smarting from everything we had endured and were still enduring, the grief, the rising denial. But it had been recommended to me as a fundamentally uplifting story, romantic, powerful.

It didn't disappoint. Antonio José Bolivar Proaño is an old man now, dispensing wisdom with his keen, hard-taught knowledge of the Ecuadoran jungle he lives in. He grates against the local settlers, men who refuse to respect the landscape around them. Nearby kills by an ocelot force him and the rest of the town into action, hunting down the animal that seems to have caught the taste of blood. The book is so short, yet epic. It captures the Shuar indigenous people through Antonio, who is adopted into their community for a long period of his life. It captures the battle between man and nature, a battle that doesn't need to exist, that doesn't need to be settled with the brutal, final violence that the settlers use. Antonio is an enchanting character for the ages, and he carries the book with a sense of resounding sadness but also a feeling of determined hope.

Content warnings for anti-Indigenous sentiment and language, racism.

#the old man who read love stories #luis sepúlveda #bookworm #book recs #book recommendation #book review #my book reviews

37 notes · View notes

agentstarkid · 2 years ago

Text

REDAMANCY ✦ DR3

“The essence of "redamancy", when loving someone, resides in finding oneself wholeheartedly committed to another person. It involves investing time, effort, and emotions to build a relationship based on trust, empathy, and understanding. Redamancy emphasizes the idea of love in its purest form, where both individuals feel valued, supported, and cherished by one another. In this context, loving someone through redamancy means having an unwavering appreciation and admiration for their unique qualities and accepting them as they are, flaws and all. It entails fostering a deep emotional bond that brings joy, warmth, and fulfillment to both individuals involved. Love, translated through redamancy, is an enriching experience that nourishes and uplifts the lives of those involved, creating a sense of security, happiness, and contentment.”

✦ pairing: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ type: social media au

✦ fc: becky g

✦ warnings: female!reader, covid-19 & quarantine mentions, age gap, language, slight mention of mature themes.

✦ pit wall live: holi babes! WE'RE OFFICIALLY DONE WITH 2020! 🥳 Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm feeling festive so this is a gift from me to you guys! Thank you for all the love and support 💖 if you haven't already left me one, please consider leaving me a comment to let me know if this whole thing at least makes a bit of sense (I crave validation, guys lmao) and my inbox is always open! I'm super excited for you to get to know Girlie a little bit better! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter because I sure did enjoy making those edits, don't they look so fucking cuteeeeee??? 😩💕

p.s.: keep an eye out for a name that could be important in the future 👀

─── The Joker & The Queen (Masterlist)

SEPTEMBER 9, 2020

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

SEPTEMBER 13, 2020

f1gossipofficial

♡ 2,345 likes

f1gossipofficial NEW WAG ALERT 🚨 After months of speculations, we can finally see them together! Daniel and Y/N arrived at the paddock for the Tuscan GP today and it's fair to say, she knows how to make an entrance 🔥 It's the first time Ricciardo introduces a WAG to the paddock 🥰

View all 1,307 comments

user she's wearing heels and he's still a head taller than her 🥺 THEIR HEIGHT DIFFERENCE IS TOO FUCKING CUTE 😭❤️

user she's just a smol 🤏🏻 cinnamon roll ❤️

user2 🐍🐍🐍🐍

user3 what the fuck is she wearing? 😂 she needs to hire a stylist because she looks like a fucking clown. This reflects badly on Daniel 🤮

user she's serving Y2K style 🔥🔥🔥 also why tf would it reflect badly on him the way she dresses??? 🙄 I think she looks gorgeous!

user4 They have been together since January, but the picture of them walking next to each other is like they don't even know each other ��

user5 can't believe Daniel hasn't dump her unfaithful ass yet 🙄 she must be really good at the things that she does on the mattress 🤮

user the only thing she's probably worth for, he might as well take advantage of it Imao

user6 The amount of hate this girl receives when all she does is just appear, no one knows her personally but ends up throwing opinions based on her looks and a couple of tabloids. Lol. Fangirls are crazy! 😂

user7 noone does it like her 😘

user8 lol he deserves so much better 🤢🐍

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

yourinstagram has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

OCTOBER 6, 2020

yourinstagram has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

danielricciardo has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

OCTOBER 11, 2020

yourinstagram has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

danielricciardo has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

yourinstagram

♡ liked by rubendias, iamcardib, danielricciardo and 8,452,325 others

yourinstagram When your birthday gift includes a podium finish you know it's gonna be an unforgettable experience! 🤩 Every year I grow I'm reminded of how precious this life is, thank you all for helping me fill it up with so much love. Your kind words and constant support means everything to me. Thank you so so so much 💕

Don't say it, don't say it, OKAY I'm saying it: I'M FEELING 22!! 😘

View all 20,975 comments

salmahayek Happy birthday hermosa ❤️

danielricciardo Who needs a four-leaf clover when I've got you by my side? Just call me Danny Ricc, the luckiest bloke around! 😎

taylorswift Everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we're 22! 🥳 Happy happy birthday my angel! There was happiness because of you 🥰

user stop acting all innocent we all know you are a fucking slut

userA yourinstagram we can tell by all the guys you let into your bed 👀

florencepugh Happy birthday to a special soul ❤️

fioamato Happiest 22nd year babe! Wish we could be together to celebrate. Te amo un mundo ❤️

sofiareyes Feliz vida reinotaaaa! 🥳🥰

user2 sos una gran ridícula 🐍

user3 stop shoving it in our faces every 5 minutes jesus christ, we already know the only way you can stay relevant is fucking your way through talented people

reesewhiterspoon Happy birthday to my favorite resident loud persona!

jvn Happiest birthday babe! Becoming friends with you has shown me a strength & kindness that is v rare. You're brave, smart AF, and the talent is next level & quite literally iconic. Grateful to know you & call you a frand!! Love you to pieces Queen! xx

llane Feliz cumpleaños hermanita 🎂 te deseo muchas bendiciones! ❤️

lilymhe as a wise woman once said: It seems like one of those nights, we ditched the whole scene and end up dreaming, instead of sleeping 💘✨

user4 Oh I didn't know it was international snakes day 🐍😂

lewishamilton happy birthday sis 💜 hope you had lots of fun x

instagram birthdays and F1 races make a winning combo

user5 I hope you are aware you're just a bed-warmer until he finds something better 😂

user6 Those who are throwing her hate, is everything okay at home? You must all be excellent people and role models 😂

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

NOVEMBER 01, 2020

yourinstagram has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

NOVEMBER 16, 2020

yourinstagram has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

NOVEMBER 28, 2020

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

DECEMBER 15, 2020

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

DECEMBER 18-21, 2020

iamdannaschwarz has added to their story!

corey_wilson has added to their story!

itsvittoriasousa has added to their story!

fioamato has added to their story!

yourinstagram has added to their story!

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

DECEMBER 25, 2020

danielricciardo

📍Los Angeles, California

♡ liked by yourinstagram, natalie_pinkham, pierregasly and 5,242 others

danielricciardo Merry christmas to all, ya filthy animals! From me and my snuggle buddy 🎄 We've been good... mostly! 😝

Tagged: yourinstagram, corey_wilson, lukerockhold

View all 8,345 comments

yourinstagram Merry Christmas from our reindeer crew! ❤️🎄

danielricciardo Santa's got it easy this year, because I've already found the perfect gift 😘

natalie_pinkham Cuties ❤️ Merry christmas guys! Sending you all the love ❤️🎄

user THEY LOOK SO FUCKING GOOD UGHH 😍

user1 she's gonna be his downfall 🤢

f1 Merry Christmas to our favorite honey badger 🦨🍯❤️

user2 please Daniel check your eyesight 😭 I mean what did you even see in Y/N

kristenanniebell Merry christmas, guys! Sending lots of love from ours to yours ❤️

user3 La pareja más bonita 😍😍 Merry christmas to us with that first photo

scottyjames31 this got me cheesing hard... I'm a bit worried for Santa if those are his reindeers though 😳

user4 Daniel!! RUN!! Don't get too close to her... she's fucking poison!! Everything she touches rots away 🐍🐍🐍

user5 MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS!! Santa should be delivering my adoption papers to you any moment now ❤️🙈

fabioquartararo20 Merry christmas brother! 🥂❤️

user6 who else lives through celebrities holiday posts? Buon Natale, Daniel and Y/N 💚

user7 dude, based on the recent news lately popping up on my feed (that I did not even care to know about), I hope you get yourself to an std clinic to get tested. I see you are in your russian roulet phase- no judgement. sincerely, I wish you the best

user8 this comment section reeks of jealousy it does not pass the vibe check at. all. 😤😤😤 it's fucking christmas guys, what the fuck is wrong with y'all leave them the fuck alone!

user9 they are so many wonderful and interesting people in the world, but you chose Y/N... disappointing. You could sincerely do so much better

user10 Love it or hate it, they are living their best life. Haters can keep commenting, but they're just a bunch of jealous basic bitches lmao ANYWAYS, MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS! Keep being fucking iconic! ❤️

user11 To all the haters out there, keep commenting. Love knows no bounds and Daniel deserves exactly who he's chosen 😘

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

DECEMBER 31, 2020

yourinstagram

♡ liked by lilymhe, rubendias, greeicy and 10,652,485 others

yourinstagram Moving towards 2021 with a better mindset. Keep practicing kindness every day, guys! 💖🤗🤭

View all 15,921 comments

itsvittoriasousa Queen of positivity 💁🏻‍♀️💗😘

user lmao omg love this video 🤭 such good vibes

blakelively ❤️❤️❤️

zendaya the vibes are immaculate 💅🏻

lali Y QUE SE CALLE EL DECORADO 😝 Te adoro nena ❤️

user1 No me canso de verlo 😂

iamdannaschwarz A lot of palo santo to cleanse, purify and remove all negativity 🪔🧿😌🤍

user2 Por qué tan hermosaaaaaa 😍😍😍

user3 It's the palo santo and the big echeveria for me lol

user4 Love your attitude

karolg Positively divinaaa! Toda una BICHOTA 💁🏻‍♀️💗

user5 Keep it up, Queen!! Let your light blind all those negative nellies 😌 You're shinning brighter than the sun ☀✨

user6 you can't tell me her and Dan are not meant to be 😂 I bet they are so much fun to be around 🤭

─── Please don't forget to reblog and comment! ♡

#the joker and the queen fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo social media au #f1 social media au #latina!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #daniel ricciardo x female reader #( agentstarkid's works )

245 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 1 year ago

Text

Outtakes - Sex Work

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Here's a list of fics I've read where either the reader or the pedro boy or both are sex workers. We are pro sex work in this house!

Summaries and tags are, in most cases, provided by the author - please be sure to read them as some of these fics may have content you do not wish to read.

updated 7/31/2024

Pedro Boy is the sex worker

Sex Worker!Frankie AU

Frankie series by @prolix-yuy

You’d never thought you’d be sitting on a hotel room bed, phone to your ear as you waited for someone on the other end to pick up. After a messy divorce you wanted something to ease the pain of loneliness. That something just happens to be the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, even if you had to pay for him.

Sex Worker!Frankie, implied other Triple Frontier Boys!Sex Workers, watch me make up shit about sex work, descriptions of male and female bodies, oral sex (F receiving), like super descriptive oral (there might be over 2500 words dedicated to Frankie’s talents), female masturbation, fingering (f receiving), safe PiV sex, a touch of Feral Frankie, one ass slap, fingers in mouths, some angst and feelings sprinkled in there for flavor.

"Din"scord Kitten

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

When bounty hunting doesn’t work out anymore Din has to turn to alternative methods to support himself.

this is a crack fic lmao, Discord/Venmo/Dr. Pepper existing in Star Wars, bad sexting, dick pics, masturbating, bad Star Wars puns, sex work, cummies needs its own warning 😭, pet names (cyar��ika), oral sex (M receiving), cum eating, no use of y/n

The Sweepstakes

Various Pedro Boys series @katareyoudrilling

A collection of standalone one-shots featuring various Pedro boys. A popular porn site runs a contest for viewers to win a night with their favorite porn star.

Unprotected PiV (paperwork is involved), oral sex (m and f receiving), kink negotiation, some choking and breath play

Fluffer

Dieter one shot by @proxima-writes

fluffer - noun - someone on a pornographic film set that keeps a male performer’s penis erect in between scenes. You’re a production assistant on the set of an adult film starring Dieter Bravo, who mistakes you for his fluffer.

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), porn star AU, dub con - mistaken identity, oral sex - female receiving, face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, squirting.

Extra Whipped Cream

Dieter one shot by @pettyprocrastination

A pornstar walks into a coffee shop. Havoc ensues.

curses, past description of smut, talking about porn

Good Taste

Din series by @charnelhouse

He wonders if it’s in bad taste to fuck a PA at the annual holiday party.

question of power since reader is a PA. Mention of drugs. Smut. Age Gap.

Reader is the sex worker

Bouquet (+ Bloom and Blossom)

Dieter series by @mypoisonedvine

Quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy. When the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice—that's how he found you.

Smut, video chat sex, sex toys, masturbation (male and female), sex work, camgirl!reader, housewife kink, breeding kink, PWP, feelings, unprotected penetrative vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, mention of the COVID-19 pandemic, fluff, soft!Dieter

Defanged

Din one shot by @concussed-to-pieces

Din gets accidentally dosed with a sex pollen drug and comes to your establishment for help. Then he fucks you all night :)

Sex Pollen, sex work, sex worker!reader, accidental dosing (mando), blindfolded reader, tit fucking, nipple play, oral m receiving, soft!mando, the helmet comes off, soft dom!mando, consensually drugged reader, oral f receiving, unprotected PIV, fingering f receiving, dirty talk, consent king!mando, uhhh sexy massage?, mild sir kink, intercrural sex, dub con due to sex pollen

Bunny

Javi P series by @whatsnewalycat

Javi is your client and you're a phone sex operator / It didn't take you long to figure out that your new co-worker, Javier Peña, is a former client from your days working a phone sex line. But does he know who you are?

Phone sex, masturbation, aliens, professor javi, former phone sex operator reader, professor reader, co-workers, seduction, yearning, dirty talk, smut, smoking, swearing, drinking, sex worker!reader

Only Angel

Javi P series by @tieronecrush

After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish

Ravish

Joel series by @psychedelic-ink

Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

cam girl!reader, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Alternate Universe - No Outbreak, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Sex Toys, paddles, Nipple Play, Nipple Clamps, Dirty Talk, joel is bi in this, POV Alternating, Mutual Masturbation, Masturbation, possesive!joel, Come Eating, Oral Sex, Size Kink, pillow humping, Live Stream Sex, Webcam Sex, good girl/sir, Light BDSM, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous!Joe, Titjob, Squirting

Go ahead and cry little girl

Jack Daniels one shot by @xdaddysprincessxx

Daddy issues with Agent Whiskey

Daddy issues!!, character death mentioned, daddy kink, piv (again wrap it up guys!), f & m oral, dacryphillia, 1 use of song lyrics, dirty talk (it’s jack mf Daniels what did you expect?) boss/employee dynamics, sex work (we support sex workers in this household!) squirting, voyeurism, cum eating, Reader is described as having hair, a vagina, well hydrated (; and can blush. daddy kink

Carnal

Joel series by @pascalsbby

You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, no? Fucking, testing one another, and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to. You knew you wanted to be completely devoured by him. You wanted to fill the space between his teeth. When he turned from the nude woman painted on the wall, a version of you in oil, to the warm, guts and roaring blood of you- the gash completely tore itself open in the moments it took for his eyes to eat you in. Every nerve ending in his forty-plus years heeding, 7 trillion of them.

SMUT, age gap (24/50s), best friends dad, dad’s best friend, stalking, conversation around trauma (not graphic or specified as SA), sex work, dark, overall pervy Joel & pure filth + more.

A Good Friend to Have

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

You and your friend work at a brothel on Coruscant, while work is slow she reveals that she owes a debt to a loan shark who is willing to pay out a bounty to anyone who brings her in. When a Mandalorian shows up at the brothel you do everything you can think of to distract the bounty hunter and buy her time to escape.

Smut, canon divergence, sex work, edging, orgasm denial, Dom/sub dynamic, masturbation, penetrative vaginal sex, helmet stays on, helmet riding

The Princess and the Duke

Dave York series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Your hot stepdad Dave York catches you creating OnlyFans content.

Smut, daddy kink, sex work, infidelity, stepcest, possessive!Dave, sexism, choking, degradation, rough sex, oral sex (male receiving), exhibitionism, alternating point of view

Whatta Man

Marcus Pike series by @atinylittlepain

He's looking for something other than vanilla, and she is more than happy to provide such a service to him.

this is smut, pegging, rimming, sucking and fucking, sex work, lowkey sugardaddy!marcus, sweet shy marcus getting his world rocked, and then pancakes and a blackberry and a black american express card so ya know, the works.

To sell your love for peace

Javi P series by @brandyllyn

You are Javier’s newest informant. You’re not his usual type but he’s willing to make an exception. More than one.

smut, sex work, canon typical violence, javi being a moron

some good friend

Tim Rockford one shot by @covetyou

Nerves were coiling in his belly in a way they typically only did at the end of a big case. There was no judge or jury here, no sentence, no surprise acquittal. There was just your door, and the promise of everything that lay beyond it. And it made him nervous.

pegging, anal fingering, praise kink, mild glove kink, very mild feminization, masturbation, Tim has body image issues and a bit of an identity crisis, kind of coming untouched, sex work, comfort

Fare Well

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter has been working so hard. He still has an issue that might be because of his mind. What can he do about it? Do anything else.

unhealthy coping, sexual dysfunction, sex work, teasing, pet names, sexual activity (actual and implied I think? I should know. 🙃)

I don't mind bleeding

Din one shot by @quicksilvermad

You and the Mandalorian have a mutually beneficial relationship—he pays your rent and you feed him when he needs fresh blood.

vampire!Din, blood, PIV sex, biting, sex work, second person POV, AFAB Reader, one instance of "good girl", aftercare

Spent

Din one shot @joelscruff

you're a prostitute and din pays you for your services.

prostitution, dirty talk, creampie, slight degradation, helmet stays on

What happens on coruscant, stays on coruscant

Din/Poe/Cassian series by @beskarandblasters

Three men stroll into a brothel on Coruscant one night looking for their own individual services. But when you’re the only worker available that evening you decide you want to take on all of them at the same time. What started out as a professional relationship crosses the line into personal quickly leading to conflict between friends, betrayal and a choice you have to make.

reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, Poe, Cassian and the reader do not know Din’s name, sex work, reader has an alias she uses at the brothel (Nova), foursome/group sex, blowjob, handjob (but not to completion), nipple play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, no use of y/n

15 minutes

Din one shot by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Being a cam girl isn't as exciting as people think it is, that is until a mystery of a deep voiced man asks you what makes a woman feel good.

Smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, sex work, Din reveals his face, silver dildo, Din's a virgin, premature ejaculation. Banner has nothing to do with appearance of reader, reader has no physical descriptors besides being AFAB.

Room 301

Joel one shot by @milla-frenchy

Joel finds out that babysitting isn't your only student job

PWP. Age gap unspecified, escort, dirty talk, praise kink, sir kink, size kink, spitting, pussy slapping, light degradation, oral (m/f), unprotected piv, creampie. No outbreak

Hotline to Heaven

Joel one shot by @chaotic-mystery

An inquisitive man gets more than what he's used to when he pushes the wrong number on a phone sex hotline.

dom!reader, sub!joel, pre outbreak, empty house means he's up to no good, porn connoisseur, phone sex, dirty talk ( i mean duh) mutual masturbation, swearing, orgasm denial, safeword mentioned but not used, talking him through it this time, a little aftercare, slight mention of one of my favorite movies bc I know Joel would've liked it too.

They're both sex workers

Morning (+ Afternoon and Evening)

Dieter series by @write-and-buried

They gave you your choice of talent. How could you pick anyone else?

brief mention of pandemic, professional sex work, fingering, orgasm delay, dirty talk (like... woah dirty), size kink, praise kink, hand kink, orgasm delay, pussy slapping, its also a little strangely soft, squirting, rimming, throatfucking, PinV sex, premature ejaculation, facial, creampie,

I know it when I see it

Joel series by @bageldaddy

it's the golden age of porn. sex and sin are the national pastime. your career in adult films starts opposite a man who goes by the name texas.

sex work, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, it’s literally porn, age gap (unspecified), oral sex, dirty talk, explicit p in v sex, praise, catholic guilt, cowboy puns, mild angst, masturbation, more terrible porn puns, sex with other unnamed characters, mutual pining, coercive sexual encounters, references to sexual violence, discussions of advocacy and autonomy, drug use, premature ejaculation, come eating/felching, fingering, squirting, dirty bar sex, public sex, a lot of feelings, more feelings than porn, angst

Pedro boy x Pedro boy

Baby, I'm-a Want You

Javi/Joel series by @pertovar

javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

unprotected p in a, oral, fingering, ass eating, use of plugs, gay terminology (bear, twink, etc), handjobs, blowjobs, swearing, smoking

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the spreadsheet outtakes #outtakes

61 notes · View notes