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BAD BLOOD
pairing: max verstappen x singer reader
summary: the one where a private phone call gets leaked, no one gets the full picture and people are quick to judge
warning: online hate, mentions of cheating
a/n: after two months its finally here for you guys
face claim: sabrina carpenter (just had to because shes gorgeous)
f1 masterlist
main masterilst
series masterlist
yourusername has posted
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 1, 485, 921 others
yourusername SUPRISE!!! I struggled to keep this secret but now i can announce it. the bad blood mv is out now with some very familiar faces
tagged: oliviarodrigo
alexandrasaintmleux AHHHH MY BEAUTIFUL BEST FRIEND
-> yourusername SAYSS YOUUUU
francisca.cgomes I STILL CANT BELIEVE I WAS IN A MUSIC VIDEO
-> yourusername ANYTHING FOR YOU QUEEN
oliviarodrigo is this what we call a slay?
-> yourusername you know it sweet thing
chappellroan IM OBSESSED WITH YOU
liked by creator
milliebobbibrown ICONIC MV
liked by creator
leahsavajeffries I WAS IN THIS
-> yourusername YEAH YOU WERE
user1 MOST ICONIC MV OF ALL TIME
user2 LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, HER
user3 anyone find it weird that exbsf wasn't in it
-> user4 I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING LIKE WHAT
-> user5 go touch grass people grow and change and no ones seen them together for like months now
y/ngossip
liked by exbsf and 31, 859 others
y/ngossip SPOTTED! yourusername and landonorris in what looks like a very heated public exchange, could this be the end?
user1 tagging them is so messy 😭
-> user2 RIGHT
user3 NOT MY PARENTS
user4 whatever happened IK its y/ns fault
user5 not exbsf liking this 👀
-> user6 RIGHT
user7 idk what anyone says exbsf liking this speaks SIDES
-> user8 right cause she wouldn't like it if y/n hadn't done anything wrong
-> user9 this is such a bold accusation to make
user10 exbsf TELL US YOUR SECRETS
user11 THEY WERE TOGETHER FOR FIVE YEARS OMG 😭
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THE PHONE CALL
a few months prior - during a conversation
Ex Bsf: Can you just support me for once instead of making it about you
Y/n: Support you? You cheated on Jacob how can I support you Ex Bsf
Ex Bsf: By being my friend instead of being all high and mighty
Y/n: I'm sorry Ex bsf but its true and I don't know if I can support you with this
Ex Bsf: What would you say if it was you who cheated on Lando
Y/n: Hypothetically, I say I cheated on Lando and be upfront with him
Ex Bsf: So have you cheated on Lando
Y/n: Of course not, I love him so much and he means to much to me, I don't ever wanna lose him
Ex Bsf: If you did ever, your gonna own up to it right
Y/n: Yeah of course I have to, but this isn't about me
Ex Bsf: Well you kinda did make it about you
Y/n: No I didn't, You asked me about it Ex Bsf
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yourusername and that marks the end of the wonderland tour! i can't believe everything that has happened over these past couple of months and i am so grateful for all the support i received from you guys over the past couple of months. stay tuned guys and ill see you at the grammys 👀
alexandrasaintmleux obsessed with you omggg
francisca.cgomes grammys this year are going to pop off
user1 SHES STUNNING STOP
user2 NEW MUSICC???
user3 girl we saw the article....
-> user4 what article????
-> user3 she cheated on lando
-> user5 WHAT
-> user6 source???
-> user7 theirs legit a voice recording of her and exbsf
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Y/N L/N AND LANDO NORRIS SPLIT
Yes. You heard us right.
Fan favourite f1 couple, superstar WAG Y/n L/n and Lando Norris have reportedly split after L/n cheated on him. A leaked phone call between L/n and a third party has been leaked.
AUDIO RECORDING HERE
Transcript
Y/n: I cheated on Lando
Ex Bsf: You cheated on Lando
Y/n: Of course, I love him so much and he means to much to me, I don't ever wanna lose him
Ex Bsf: Your gonna own up to it right
Y/n: Yeah of course I have to
CLICK HERE TO READ MORE
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yourusername 3 GRAMMYS!!!!!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! TYSM GUYS FOR ALL OF THE SUPPORT AND FOR TAKING WONDERLAND AND TURNING IT INTO SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL, WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS HOW AMAZED AND GRATEFUL I AM..........
alexandrasaintmleux WELL DESERVED
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francisca.cgomes YAYAYAYAY OMMGGGGGG
liked by creator
user1 i used to have so much respect for you
user2 i can't believe u cheated so dissapointing
user3 your setting such a bad example for you younger fans...
user4 CANCEL Y/N
-> user5 yep #cancely/n #y/nisoverparty
-> user6 #y/nisoverparty
-> user7 #y/nisoverparty
-> user8 #y/nisoverparty
-> user9 #y/nisoverparty
-> user10 #y/nisoverparty
user11 🐍🐍🐍
user12 #y/nisoverparty
user13 🐍🐍🐍
user14 Ex/bsf deserves better
-> user15 her and lando should get together tbh
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Hi guys, i'm really sorry i am going to start posting more often but things have just been really busy as im starting grade 12 work which is insanely dissicult and family drama has been going on and i've been working on writing a book which is pretty exciting
anyways i will try to post more often - maybe once everyweekend or second weekend
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taglist:
@lyannesworld
@pippyth3hippy
@scorpiomindfuck
@syddddddddddddd
@paigem00
@toldyouitwasamelodrama
@lilsiz
@chelle1306
@sired4urmama
@stinkyjax
@kiyomisan
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@midnights-lily
@skynel09
#reputation#reputation series#f1 masterlist#formula1#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#f1 fluff#f1 angst#f1 series#f1 smau
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HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 9:foreign affairs, series masterlist
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: PART 9! anyways, stan y/n l/n for clear skin and good grades!✨😌
INSTAGRAM, july 18
liked by carlossainz, landonoriss, and 12,654,234 others
yourinstagram mood :') gonna cry all day lol. thank you for your warmth. thank you for listening n hearing me. i love you.
View all 64,627 comments
ntltcy/n whoever said the second slide is so real
danielricciardo I said what I said
zendaya ma’am is taking up all 10 spots on the 10 ten…that’s my best friend ❤️!!!
channeleclerc16_ she should just stick to acting…
beyonce well deserved! the song brought actual tears to my eyes
yourinstagram beyonce screaming crying shaking…thank u, i love u always
leclerc_pascale beautiful girl congrats
yourinstagram leclerc_pascale thank u mama
drewstarkey on repeat i fear
ferarrileclerc i mean ... since the song is about charles that means he got another number one hit! charles congrats baby!
harrystyles A beautiful song from an even more beautiful person. Congratulations, Y/n/n—H.
ypurinstagram thank u sweet angel. miss you!
redlipclassicy/n harrystyles yourinstagram WHAT THE FUCK
JULY 18, 2023
Lola Ransdell Under Fire for Using the N-Word in Resurfaced Tweets
Not a good look.
BY ALLY JULY 17, 2023 11:15 AM
Lola Randell has some explaining to do. The 25-year-old came under fire on Sunday when Twitter users began resurfacing tweets of the model using the N-word in 2020. The receipts included direct messages and Instagram comments, in which Ransdell called her friends the racial slur, as well as tweets from Ransdell claiming that she could use the N-word because she’s “not white.”
In screenshots resurfaced by the Twitter PopHub, Ransdell can be seen calling someone an “ugly” N-word. The screenshots also include a group chat with some of her friends, in which she is called out for using the N-word. In her response, Randell explains that she can use the derogatory term because she’s not white. (Ransdell’s mother is Brazilian, but that still does not excuse her behavior.) “I’m not white tho so that’s awk,” Ransdell responded.
However, the receipts don’t end there. Along with the first screenshots, some users also resurfaced other old tweets, in which Ransdell said that she returned a “different race” after she spent some time tanning in Florida. (She accompanied the tweet with an emoji of a man with a turban.) Another screenshot also shows Ransdell liking a 2020 meme comparing Jay-Z to a Ransdell. One user also claimed to have a video of Ransdell rapping the N-word, though the audio is unclear.
Ransdell allegedly once tweeted, "leaving to Florida white but coming back to NY a different Race." The statement was accompanied by an emoji of a white blonde man and an emoji of a darker-skinned man wearing a turban.
A post from 2019 read, "With @chanteljefferies and that awkward moment when ur at a Chinese restaurant and your waiter isn't Chinese...."
The following year, she allegedly threatened, "Shut up before I smack you back to your own country!"
Screenshots also show the youtuber allegedly liking an Instagram post from 2018 about how only men and women should marry because the Bible says so.
Then there are the women-hating posts.
Ransdell allegedly liked an undated Instagram post showing a photo of Selena Gomez that posed the question, "Would you smack her for $835 BILLION?!" The person whose reply was featured in the meme read, "I'd smack her for a sweet tea from McDonald's."
In 2018, Ransdell allegedly tweeted about transgendered women" being "wicked slutty."
She's also been accused of openly hating on her boyfriend’s former partner, Y/n L/n.
Once a fan of Charles (and even of Charles and Y/n together), Ransdell seemingly turned on the 26-year-old singer when "Your/Ship/Name" was on the rocks.She allegedly once followed a Y/n L/n hate account on Instagram and allegedly favorited/liked a tweet from 2022 that showed a picture of Y/n and read, "She collects guys as if they were infinity stones."
How these receipts surfaced is unclear (many of them are private messages between Ransdell and her friends, so someone must have leaked them on the internet), but it’s certain that people aren’t happy with Ransdell using slur, even as a joke. After the tweets resurfaced, many users took to Twitter to call out Ransdell for her offensive behavior, as well as demand accountability and an apology from her and her Formula One boyfriend, Charles Leclerc.
SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:
• Charles Leclerc finally addresses messy breakup with Singer Y/n L/n.
•Harry Styles just commented on Y/n L/n’s Instagram post for the first time in 7 years.
• Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince: Harry Styles and Y/n L/n’s relationship timeline
INSTAGRAM, july 18
liked by f1wh0re, corneliastreety/n, and 546,782 others
y/naflorals CHAR!ES SPEAKING ABOUT MOTHER TODAY IN AN INTERVIEW
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dressy/n no comment.
lewismercedes ur joe king…ur joe. king.
leclerc16charles as a charles fan…idk either i’m sorry
TWITTER, july 18
INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 18
yourinstagram 9m
viewed by charlotee_siine, lewishamilton, and 245,321 others
TWITTER, july 18
ally’s radio 📻:i don’t like this chapter 😞. also pls know that anything that was mentioned within lola’s article is not something i condone!! pls don’t think i’m a bad person, it’s literally only just for the plot😭!! i got inspo off of hailey biebers old tweets sooo. if u see ur username but u weren’t tagged, it’s bc tumblr wouldn’t let me :( if u asked me to tag u and i didn’t, pls send me a message or inbox me bc it might’ve gotten lost 😭 i try to stay up-to-date but sometimes i miss people so pls lmk!!!
taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife@mrsmaybank13@black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx@lilsiz@ohthemisssery@leclerclvr@slytherinjimin3nthusiast@shessthunderstoms@cool-ultra-nerd@ncentic@playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj@chasing-liberosis@laneyspaulding19@a-daydreamersday@saikikusouswife@motorsp0rt@lifesuckslife@shessthunderstoms@drewsandsebastianswife @sainzluvrr@ietss @agustdlvr @sarahkaliii @sweethoneyblossom1@sticksdoesart @ayoanna @c0wgirlswag @ifionlywould @l1ghtaura @ellesmythe @avada-kedavra-bitch-187
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#heartbreak on tour#twobluejeans#daniel riccardo x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x you#carlos sainz jr#charlesleclerc#lando norris#lando norris x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#scuderia ferrari#ferrari f1#f1 instagram au#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#harry styles x reader#harry styles x platonic!reader#taylor swift#charles leclerc social media fanfic#charles leclerc imagine
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Scarcely Can Speak For My Thinking, What You’d Do To Me Tonight
Pairing: VA! Joel Miller x f! reader
Minors DNI with my work please!!
A/N: howdy howdy my lovelies. I know what yall are thinking: papaya didn't you post a fic literally less than two weeks ago? And to that I would say yes, yes I did. However, I have been working on this one for a while and somehow managed to finish it on the plane! Thank you as always to my lovely beta readers @carlynkurin and @joelsdagger The title is a Hozier lyric (are yall really surprised?) This is officially dedicated to my beloved @joeloverture and despite my darling vetty's step off of tumblr, she truly deserves the world. also if you're mean to her i will find you. that is a threat
I hope y'all enjoy the read, and that the filth keeps you going in times of need. Peace and love on the planet Earth from me!!! Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!
Tags: Erotic voice actor Joel! AU, Young Joel, No outbreak AU, smut, condescension, degradation, f! masturbation, praise, squirting, smut, LOTS of dirty talk, oral (f receiving) friends to lovers, fingering, voice kink, Joel loves thighs, Joel Miller arm appreciation, the reader is a mess, no use of y/n, Joel can pick reader up but he’s HUGE so it makes sense, no description of reader, 18+ Word Count: 5.2k
Summary: you have been using audio erotica to get off for a month, and manage to accidentally let it play in Joel's car, leading to an awkward night in
You let out an exhausted huff as the dim light of your phone reflected on your face. Your headphones connected, your vibrator was charged, but in some godforsaken twist of fate, there was not a single thing worth listening to on the newest audio erotica page you could find. Videos hadn’t been doing it for you, the ethical concerns were too high for you to be horny, and as much as you liked a good fanfic, you had gone through most of the ones you liked and needed something new. You click on a post with semi intriguing tags, immediately rolling your eyes and exiting out of it when you hear the all too familiar vocal fry of men trying to sound hotter. News flash: you don't.
You were moments away from calling it a night and opening your backlog of smutty ao3 fics when another post caught your eye. You let out a snort at the username save_a_horse and glance at the tags. Okay you were definitely interested now, a degrading instructional… you hit play with baited breath, prepping for the worst, but you were so mistaken.
“Filthy little thing aint ya?” the voice rings in your ears, heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly quickly. “Must be so pathetic if you’re clicking on a mean stranger's voice to get ya’self off” his voice was like hot honey. Sickly sweet and keeping you waiting for his every word but with an edge that stung in the best way. You shuffle yourself back onto the pillows and throw your covers off, fully prepared to enjoy this rare gem. Your breathing picks up, heavy with want as the man in your ears calls you a desperate little slut.
“Go on, get your toy wet slut” his voice croons out at you “know ya have one, too fuckin’ needy not to.'' Always eager to please, your lips find the base of your curved g-spot vibrator and let the soft plastic fill your mouth, drawing sounds that were almost too debauched for you to be sitting in bed alone. “Bet you love havin your mouth filled like that.. Lord, I'd love to have your pretty little lips around my cock” your eyes practically roll back at that, spit running down the base of your toy before he finally tells you to put it in.
“Atta girl, such an eager thing” The toy sinks into your sopping cunt with ease as the voice envelops your mind, solely focusing on him. You listen with intense obedience as he tells you how deep, how quick, how much you were allowed. “Go on then, fuck yourself on it. We both know you want to”
You let out a soft cry as you slip the toy in and out, the curve just hitting the spot that makes your back arch. Your breathing hitches as you press down on the button to turn the vibrations on. “Creamin’ all over yourself I bet,” it was like he could see you. Like he was able to see your arousal dripping onto the sheets below you, how the damp sheets clung to your thighs as they shook and twitched with pleasure.
“Bet you’re so damn close.. Go on then slut, cum while listenin’ to me'' he taunts slightly as your orgasm washes over you in waves. “Gonna ruin ya,” his words are assertive, less of a promise and almost a threat “ain’t gonna cum unless it's to my voice anymore. Good fuckin’ girl” You take a few steadying breaths as the audio clicks off, and you blink up at your ceiling unsure of how to go on from there. You glance down at your phone which has made its way to the opposite side of your bed and move to grab it.
You hit play on another audio.
As the weeks go on, you and the mysterious cowboy in your ears have an immensely good time together. You practically spend every night listening to every one of his audios, leaving silly comments on the ones that make you cum particularly hard. It might have been an issue, how often you found yourself waiting for him to upload, how quickly you would pause your tasks to listen to new updates, but you were having fun and it wasn’t like you were hurting anyone in the process.
You had just finished an audio before the blaring noise of a horn outside your door rattled you. The clock on your phone taunts you as do the several missed calls and texts from your best friend. “Fuck. fuck okay” you grumble, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off before tossing a pair of comfy shorts on and grabbing your bag, and heading outside “have you never heard of a virtue called patience miller?” you quip as you slide into the passenger seat of his truck
“Had it for the first five minutes, but about 10 minutes after that, I was damn ready to break your door down myself” he scoffs “what took you so damn long?” he rolls his eyes as you fiddle with the bluetooth in his car, not wanting to be stuck with what you call ‘old home music’
“I was just finishi-” your words are cut off when the sound of a moan plays over the speaker. Just your luck. You kept the grumpiest man alive waiting and then played porn in his car. Hooray for you. “Jesus fucking-” you squeak, fiddling with your phone and closing out of the app “Joel-” you start, cheeks burning and excuses already at the tip of your tongue, before he silently shakes his head and puts the car in reverse.
The ride back to his house is awkward to say the least. “Joel listen I didn't mean for-” you mumble out meekly, but his sharp gaze on yours has you clamping your mouth closed immediately. You fiddle with your fingers, thinking about playing music, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore. The grip Joel has on the steering wheel is practically iron-clad, his knuckles almost white with the tension as he pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park. You walk into his house with a huff, your weekly game nights off to a bit of a rocky start, but you’ve had to deal with worse with him. Joel had given you moral support when your menstrual cup had gotten “stuck” during one of your first times using it, he could deal with knowing you listened to porn.
You plop down onto his couch, stretching your legs out on the coffee table while he gets you a glass of iced tea. You take a sip of your drink and mentally prepare yourself for how bad he was going to tease you about this, but are met with shocking amounts of silence. For a man who is ruthless on game nights, the lack of trash talk and absolute avoidance was almost irritating you. Finally, after you beat him in uno for a third time in a row, you snap “What is your issue tonight miller?” you groan, placing a +2 card down “Listen I know that was awkward but we’re both adults I don't see what the big deal is''
Joel groans and places another +2, changing the color (much to your annoyance,) “just drop it, nothin’s the issue” You, petulant and stubborn as ever, did not drop it. You huff as you have to take like 5 cards from the deck before getting one that you can play, and narrow your eyes at him.
“Bullshit” you move to sit cross-legged on the couch “I never beat you in this game, something is wrong with you tonight,” it was almost as if nobody had ever taught you not to poke a sleeping bear. Or maybe you figured that the bear was your best friend and probably wouldn't bite your head off… probably.
“Just drop it peaches,” his words are terse, hands gripping his, now slowly diminishing, uno cards much tighter than he needed to. You groan again when you have to get another few cards. The irritation at his childish behavior, coupled with the stack of 20 cards in your hand makes you more of a menace than you probably should.
“Don't be such a baby, Miller,” you poke his leg with your foot knowing full well he hates it, a yelp leaving your lips as he grabs your ankle and pulls you forward “Joel!” Your cards fly out of your hand
“Told you to fuckin’ quit it peach.” His voice is a low timber, stirring something deep in your belly. “Never fuckin’ listen to me”��
You just snort at him when he releases your ankle, moving to pick up your cards, “you suck at uno today Joel” you hmph, rising to your feet “'m gonna get something else” you hear Joel protest and try to grab at your arm but you’re too determined and he’s far too comfy to get up quick enough. You manage to make it to his spare room, swinging the door open, imagining you’d see a shelf with his board games only to stop dead in your tracks, “what the fuck-”
What you had always assumed was just his spare junk room or random linen closet, was what looked like an at home recording studio. A desk with a PC and speakers, full microphone set up, and what you could only assume was something to help with soundproofing “What the fuck Miller?” Your voice is slightly full of awe, “are you recording shitty male superiority podcasts now?” you tease, a sly grin on your face.
Despite how pleased you are with that crack at him, he looks absolutely unamused. He practically clomps over at you, big finger poking your ribs ``you know damn well I ain't doin’ that shit.” He rolls his eyes at your teasing. The idea of Joel Miller getting on the internet to talk about women in a way that wasn't him sitting at his desk going ‘they’re the best damn thing’ was laughable. He was a perfect gentleman to everyone, except maybe to you, but frankly you deserved it for all the shit you gave him.
You squeak when his finger prods at your skin “okay, okay well what creepy shit are you doing in here then?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, sauntering to his PC set up. The computer and speakers were calling out to you like a siren, and you did not have the common sense to plug your ears.
Joel knew you. He could read you like a fucking book with how close the two of you were. He used to say that the one braincell you had spent fifty percent of its time inside his mind with how predictable you were to him. “Peach do not fuckin’ dare-” his voice is low, warning you.
If you had better self preservation skills you would have probably heard the alarm bells ringing in your head telling you that he was serious, or paid better attention to the way his sweats were a little more tight. But you unfortunately were a complete menace, so neither of those items really registered to you. You clap your hands in an evil little giggle when you move the mouse “still no password? Shit you make my life so fucking easy-” you grin as you see the different clips of audio layered together in whatever program he uses
Joel has somehow silently appeared behind you, his hand pulling you away from the computer. “Quit it peach, I’m not fuckin’ around,” he grits out, the hold on your wrist almost impossibly tight. He means business this time, and despite how much of a hellion you can be to him, you didn’t have a death wish.
You scrunch your nose at him trying to pull your wrist out of his grip “okay jesus chri-” you yank your hand away from his, elbow bumping into the keyboard and are cut off with the sound of a gravely moan coming out of the speaker. Both you and Joel look like deer caught in the headlights. Your eyes flick between Joel, whose face has gone impressively red, and the screen of his computer. “I- joel this is-” you stumble over your words, unsure of what to say in this situation.
“Not a fuckin’ peep.” he practically growls at you. Your mouth clamps shut as he leans over you and presses pause on the audio. Your mouth is drier than it had ever been. That was a clip of your best friend, the one who was looming over you at this very moment, moaning into a microphone. You were certain that if you had listened any closer you would have been able to hear the sounds of his hand stroking his cock. The slight creak of his chair, the wet noise of the lube, or was he a spit guy? He however, was not interested in sharing any more of the audio with you, and you would deny it if anyone asked, you were a little disappointed.
You need to say something, you had to, and despite your better judgment telling you not to, you do. “I mean you sound nice-” You sound nice?? You were so fucking ridiculous, even you knew that wasn’t the thing to say. Joel’s eyes darken at your words, and for a moment you fear he’s going to kick you out, to get truly pissed off at you for the first time since you finished his Dr. Pepper stash. “I didn't mean-” you try to backtrack “I just meant- it... You sounded like you were enjoying yourself at least-'' you were actively digging the hole that you were in deeper, rambling and stuttering, all while Joel just stared at you silently, his eyes burning into you
You swallow hard, his eyes still not leaving yours “listen I can go I'm sorry I shouldn't have-” you go to make a beeline out of the room but a firm hand pulling you back into the chair stops you. You fall back with an oof and look up at Joel, who by all accounts looked pissed but there was something else. His pupils were blown and his eyes trace every single one of your movements. The bear had managed to lock in the own cage you had set out for him.
“Didn't tell you to leave.” he practically grunts at you. Ladies and gentlemen, your best friend, always the most well spoken person in the room. You move to protest again, but the look he gives you stops the words before they even form on your tongue. you bite your lip and fiddle with your fingers unsure what to do “think I sound nice peaches?” his voice cuts through the anxious rambling in your brain and you're almost certain you've heard him wrong
“Huh?” you look back up at him through your lashes. He was leaning against the wall where his microphone was set up. His sweats were riding low on his hips and his hoodie covered the toned muscles of his arms, that if anyone asked you had never stared at. The tanned skin you never dared to fantasize about in your bed. The hair that covered his arms, the veins that often made more appearances when you asked forced him to do manual labor that you refused to do yourself.
“Asked if you think I sound nice, Peaches?” he hums, raising a questioning brow at you. your mouth opens and closes ridiculously a few times before you simply just nod at him “that's good..” he muses as he comes back up to you “do you think about me?” he prods, a patronizing pout on his lips as you gape up at him. “when you're listening to those dirty little audios and lettin’ your fingers touch that needy cunt?” you can't help but squeak at his words. the way he said them, the way he spoke was just so… familiar “come on, pretty peach, tell daddy what you think about when you're fingering that slutty little pussy” he practically grins at you and it fucking clicks.
Daddy. Daddy. It was him. The stupid cowboy, the random man whose voice sent your tummy into knots, the one who had been getting you off for weeks now was your best friend. “Joel-” you practically whimper at him. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and also very distinctly between your legs. “Listen i didn’t know it was you-” there’s a shit eating smirk on his face, one that you would have told him to wipe off his face before you smack it off in any other scenario.
“No?” he hums at you, his brow quirked up as he towers over you in that stupid recording chair “didn't know it was me when you were commenting all those pretty little reviews?” You whimper out a noise, somewhere between a no and a general sound of timidity, as his hand tilts your chin up to meet his eyes “Lemme see if I can remember what it was you said before I got you in the car today peach?” he takes a moment to obnoxiously tap his forehead mocking the way you recall things “what was it you said? ‘This made me late to see my friend, but it also made me ruin my sheets’? Was that it peaches?”
You take a shaky breath, your skin burning under his intense gaze, chin still in his hands. You nod softly at his question, knowing that if you didn't, he would just push you until you did. His grin turns wolfish at your confirmation, and you feel him shift his legs between yours, pushing them apart “yeah peach?” he tuts at you “made me wait for almost 20 minutes outside your house. just so you could cum to my voice… ain’t real nice of you” You take a wobbly breath at his words and try to reply, unsure of what you would even say. An apology maybe, an explanation? But before you can even move to open your mouth he’s cutting you off again
“Woulda just given you the real thing baby,” he tuts at you “all you had to do was ask.'' His voice is low and almost condescending. You shouldn’t let it turn you on, you should tell him to fuck off, but you feel yourself gush at his tone, your bottom lip getting caught between you teeth. He whistles at the look on your face, his cock practically straining against his sweats, “bet you’re just creamin’ in those slutty little shorts baby'' his words aren’t a question, he’s stating it like he can read you like a book because he knows he can. His legs shift to press your legs further apart until your knees are bumping into the arm rests, your eyes unwavering from his.
Your breath is caught in your throat as he leans down to you, his lips pressed up by one of your ears “Listen to me like this peaches?” he whispers into your ear, a warm breath making you shiver before he moves to the other side “like having me in your ears with your legs spread?”
“Yes.. fuck yes yes I do-” your words are rushed and lustful as you feel his hands dip into the waistband of your panties. Your hips jolt up into his touch, panties absolutely drenched with your arousal. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, lips parting with a silent cry of pleasure.
“Knew she’d be droolin’ all over” he hums as he brings his slick covered finger up to his lips and tastes you with delectable pop when he pulls off. “Tastes like I fuckin’ imagined. Like a fuckin’ peach” he groans and for a moment you swear you could cum just like that.
“Shit Joel please-” he cuts you off with a shake of his head and a shushing noise, as he steps away from you. Your legs are still spread against the chair and you practically whine when he moves away from you, flicking on his recording set up. “Joel what-” he shushes you again, giving you a look that leaves no room for argument.
“Quiet,” he mumbles, fiddling with the mic and pulling the rolling chair closer to it. “Like listenin’ to me so much, thought i’d use you for better effects. You okay with that peaches?” he asks, looking down at you. Despite the teasing and the mockery, you knew he would stop if you told him you didn't want it. But the idea of him stopping, even for a moment was going to make you explode. You nod, maybe too eagerly for someone about to get fucked on microphone, and he grins.
“God always knew you were fuckin’ desperate for it” he kneels between your legs, and you stifle a giggle when his knees pop. “Quit it you menace” He swats at your thigh playful smirk on his lips, making you jump slightly. “Gotta stay real quiet for me, understand?” you watch with bated breath as he moves the mic so it rests delicately in the tension filled space between your spread thighs and his face.
You nod, lips parted, pupils blown, cunt practically dripping for him. He lets out a soft hum of approval, lips pressing a soft kiss to your thighs “nothing fuckin’ softer than a pair of soft thighs” he muses, half to himself, half to you and the mic “could just live between them forever, die happy if a girl pretty as a peach would let me bury my face there.” You feel yourself clench around nothing, feeling maddeningly empty all of a sudden. You shift to try to gain some friction, the chair giving a slight creak at the change in position. Joel looks up and glares at you, your body going still immediately under the intensity of his eyes.
He sticks his hand out behind him, pausing the microphone from recording. “You need to stay. still.” he grits out at you “don't need the whole internet hearing how much of a desperate little thing you are.” You nod at his words, hands gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles turn white. He flicks the mic back on and his lips find your thighs again. Nipping and kissing the soft flesh just below the hem of your shorts. He slides his hands further up, popping the button open and you have to bite down on your fist not to moan when he drags the zipper down with his teeth. He shimmies you out of your shorts, leaving your bottom half clad in your embarrassingly wet panties.
He lets out a growl at the sight of your cunt, clothed and practically dripping for him. “Look at her… practically creaming already and I ain’t even touched you yet” He lets his thumb press against the wet spot the slight pressure just barely teasing your sopping hole dragging a breathy sigh out of you. You look down at him, eyes hooded and lips parting, practically begging for him without uttering a damn word.
He looks up at you as he slides your panties to the side, blowing a stream of cold air straight onto your clit, making you jump. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy…” he practically salivates at the sight of you “nothin’ fucking better than seein’ a drippy, needy, little cunt in front of me…” he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, right next to where you want him, where you need his lips
You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. Somehow it felt filthier being able to see the look on his face, the absolute need he had to taste you. The grip he had on your thighs was bruisingly tight, not helping your arousal die down in the slightest. His mouth finally finds your slit, tongue licking a hot wet stripe at an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a guttural moan and practically salivates at the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet” he groans, tongue dipping back down to taste more of your slick. One of your hands leaves the armrest of the chair and moves to cover your mouth when his lips place three gentle kisses around your clit before relenting and wrapping his lips around the aching bud, with a quiet hum.
You bite down on your hand to stifle the moans threatening to spill, desperate and eager to please him. Your thighs shake when he slips a finger into your dripping cunt and curls them to hit that spot. He lets out a chuckle, lips still sucking on your clit. The vibrations of his warm breath on your aching clit elicited a desperate wine from your mouth, despite how hard you were trying to be quiet for him “Ffffuck-”
He raises a brow at you, not even pulling away from your skin, his baby eyes just gazing at you from between your legs as his fingers work at you. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth in an effort to stop your sounds, but your attempts seem futile as your climax starts to draw near. Joel slips a second finger inside of you with embarrassing ease, the sound of his fingers curling inside you, joined only by your soft little breaths and his lips on your clit. His fingers stretch you in ways your fingers never have, scissoring and sliding inside of you with practiced precision. “Atta fuckin’ girl..” he growls as your toes curl instinctively, heels digging into his shoulder blades as the coil inside of you finally snaps. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, your thighs clamping around his head as he works you through it “squirtin’ all over daddy’s face huh like the needy thing you are.”
He pulls your legs off from his legs and hits save on the audio, before glancing back at you with a smirk. “Ain’t posting that anywhere..” he whispers, the gentleness a shocking turn around from the filth he whispered to you earlier. Your breath is still coming out in shaky pants, looking up at him through hazy lids “keepin’ that all to myself” he hums, pressing a little kiss on your head.
He scoops you up like you’re a ragdoll and practically clomps over to his bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. His fingers work deftly at the tie of his sweats, pushing them off. You squeak softly when you see the trail of hair going down his pelvis, the lack of boxers making heat rise to your chest. You work your top off, while he throws his hoodie across the room, a guttural groan leaving his mouth as he sees your breasts. “Fuckin’ perfect..'' His words aren’t necessarily for you, his thoughts just find themselves being voiced aloud. His calloused hands grope and knead at the softness of your tits before he presses wet kisses to each of your nipples. “Need to be inside ya” he practically begs, cock hard against his stomach leaking pre-cum.
You could salivate at the sight, hell you truly might have a little bit. “Fuck me, Daddy, need you to fuck me Joel, please i can be good im ready, I'm on the pill-” your words were babbled, fast and rushed together, your intense desire for the man in front of you the only thing your brain could comprehend. Your legs part on the bed, your arousal dripping down your thighs calling to him like flowers call to a honeybee.
“Christ, baby,” he groans before grabbing your legs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. He fists his cock and slides it through your aching pussy, both of you letting out simultaneous cries of shit when your wetness coats his length. He slides into you with gentle thrusts, letting you adjust to his size slowly, before sinking in all the way with a soft whimper “take me so good…” his words are quiet and breathless, almost as if he was in awe of how your body made room for him.
“Oh my god-” you cry out, your hands fisting in the dark sheets under your skin. “so fucking big joel..” you clench around him, body on fire with how good he felt inside you, with how perfect it was. It was like you were made to take him like this. His thrusts get faster and your legs curl around his waist, pulling him in as deep as you possibly could. The feeling of his hand pressing on your lower stomach has you arching your back into his touch.
“Perfect fucking thing,” he grits huskier than usual, with a thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. “Feel me peaches?” he thrusts into you again and presses on your tummy “right fuckin’ there.. Right where I god damn belong…” his words were lust filled and hazy, his own need and orgasm clouding all judgment. Your hips roll against his, the coarse hair brushing up against you, and your head lolls back into the mattress as his thrusts get sloppier.
“Inside, Joel fuck-” you whimper at him, eyes wide and pleading as your second orgasm builds in the pits of your belly “please cum inside me, wanna feel you please..” for a moment he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. The sounds of your pretty little moans and begging are like a dream come true for him. He just nodded and shifted so he was practically cradling your body under his, cock buried so deep inside you that you knew you’d be feeling it for days afterward.
He grinds his hips lazily against yours while his thrusts are shallow and pointed. Your legs shake while you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth as you both fall apart practically molded together. “Jesus christ-” his breathing is ragged and hoarse “takin’ me so damn good, gonna fuckin’ fill you up” he gives a few more thrusts before he pulls out of your quivering pussy, your own orgasm sending stars into your eyes.
You both stay like that for a moment, Joel's forehead resting softly on your shoulder as his cum spills out onto his bed. You shift softly to pull him next to you and curl into his touch, giving him a cheeky smile as you tilt his face to meet your eyes. “You…” a breathless little laugh escapes your lips “how long did you know I was commenting on your posts?” you ask softly, brows raised at him.
He snorts at the question and flicks your forehead gently, earning a playful pout to be thrown in his direction. “Bout damn near two weeks ago” he replies, classic shit eating grin plastered to his face. “Figured it was you when you came over lookin’ like you’d won the damn Powerball and some little fan called peaches_and_cream left a comment about cummin’ three times to one damn post” you let out a muffled groan and bury your head into his chest, mumbling something about him being an asshole before you both shift into a comfortable silence.
He moves, patting your hip and telling you to go use the bathroom after a few minutes, preaching his favorite safe sex speech and you roll your eyes at him before you saunter over to his bathroom. “Oh and Joel-” you call out before you walk in, eyes meeting his as he waits for you to finish your sentence “send me that audio, would ya?”
A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free
READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.
PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
Thank you for reading, and free Palestine
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel tlou#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller drabble#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us smut#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#pedro characters#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#the last of us hbo#papaya writes <3#scsfmtwydtmt#joel miller au#no outbreak!joel miller#young joel#the last of us fandom
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Chasm - e.m.
Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
‖ summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.
‖ tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol
‖ word count: 8.3k ‖ read on AO3 ‖ the song ‖
None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.
So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.
You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.
Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.
Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.
The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.
"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."
Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."
The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.
The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.
Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.
“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.
The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand.
Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.
“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”
Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.
“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”
The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”
You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.
Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”
Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.
“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.
"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit.
“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”
There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.
“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”
“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him. “The recording keeps going.”
Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.
There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.
“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?”
The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.
“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–”
An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.
Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”
The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.
No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”
“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.
“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.
“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”
All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“We wait for it to wake up again.”
Wake up.
Come on, little lamb.
Wake up now.
Looks so peaceful.
But you’ve got to wake up.
…
WAKE UP.
There’s something wet on your face.
Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.
Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.
It’s almost like you’re sinking.
Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.
Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?”
You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.
“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.
“Over here.”
The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.
Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.
Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.
“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”
“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”
His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.
“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.
“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.
A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.
Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.
Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.
You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.
“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.
Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.
“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”
He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he?
“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”
You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”
His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”
Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.
A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.
Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.
With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.
But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.
“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.
“That depends, what year is it?”
Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.
“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”
His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”
This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.
The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.
“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”
“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”
This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”
“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”
So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.
It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.
Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.
So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.
Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.
The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.
Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.
This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.
Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.
“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.
The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.
“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.
The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”
The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”
His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.
A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”
A blink and he’s gone.
Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.
He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.
As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.
You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.
That appears to be the way he prefers it.
“I think we can help each other.”
You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.
“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”
“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.
His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”
Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”
He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”
“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.
“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”
There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”
An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”
“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”
There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.
“What would I need to do?”
His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”
A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”
A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.
“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”
“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”
The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”
“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”
He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.
Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.
Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.
“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”
His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”
“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”
His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”
An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.
“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”
He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”
You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.
The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.
“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”
Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.
It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.
Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.
You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.
He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?
In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.
There’s something moving in your mouth.
You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.
You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”
Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”
His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat.
“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”
Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.
Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!
“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.
He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”
Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”
“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”
You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”
He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”
“Sir, we’ve got activity.”
Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.
Since you were dragged through.
There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.
But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.
This is his fault.
He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.
Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.
There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.
“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.
It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.
The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.
“Any news from the fault?”
Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”
Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.
“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”
A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”
“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.
There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”
The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.
The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.
“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”
“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.
“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”
Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”
Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”
“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”
“Yes sir.”
The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.
The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”
Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”
“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.
They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.
“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.
“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”
There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”
“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”
“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”
They all fall silent, listening closely.
Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.
The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”
“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”
“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”
Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”
Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.
There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.
“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.
“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”
The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.
Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.
A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.
A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.
The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.
You’re… You’re actually alive.
Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.
“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”
The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”
The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”
“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.
“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”
You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.
“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.
“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.
The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.
“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”
The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.
“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”
If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.
Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.
Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.
Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.
“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”
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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x afab!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson oneshot#flayed!eddie munson#kas!eddie#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#posting a oneshot that barely explains an entire fic universe you've never told anyone about :)#myos ideas#myo4munson
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3:08 PM
gojo x gn!reader | he’s NOT on the battlefield he is somewhere being whiny and dramatic RIGHT NOW. no one can tell me otherwise.
gojo stares at you from his spot on the couch, a pout etched on his face as you continue to type away at an assignment due in more than a week. something due 10 whole days away has taken priority over him—he pouts even harder at the thought.
“i can feel you staring at me, satoru.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“mhm.”
there’s only a few minutes of silence when your phone suddenly vibrates. without sparing it a glance, you switch between tabs, trying to find a specific quote for your answer. satoru huffs from behind you, and another notification comes in.
“y’gonna check that?”
“check what?”
your phone vibrates again.
“that.”
and you’re not dumb. you have a feeling your boyfriend is very aware, probably even more aware than you about what that notification could be.
“no?”
it vibrates again.
“are you sure?”
another.
“pretty sure.”
and after a couple of seconds, another.
“…actually, you know what, ‘toru,”—you pick up your phone, and satoru sits up ever so slightly, before you swipe down the bar to turn on do not disturb—“you’re right.”
“babe,” he drags out the pet name, “what if it was important?”
“and what if it was my classmates being idiots in the group chat again?”
“it’s not!”
at his denial, you spin your chair around, an accusatory—yet amused—expression on your face. “and how would you know?”
“because no one else is working on an assignment due in more than a week on a saturday afternoon except you, because apparently i’m dating the biggest nerd ever,” satoru complains, letting himself slide half off the couch, leg thrown over the top.
putting your hand over your chest, you gasp. “the biggest nerd ever? you wound me.”
“you wounded me first when you downloaded that assignment pdf instead of checking my texts!”
“well now i’m never opening that text from you.”
“why no—” he stops, and you stare, and he squints and quietly replies, “…i hate you.”
a lie through and through that finally gets you to laugh, just a little, before picking up your phone, where a photo of the both of you greets you as your lockscreen. “i’m kidding, ‘toru. but seriously if it’s something stupid i’m going to the library.”
“nothing i send you is ever stupid.”
you shake your head and go to open your messages. “i’m not even going to try to argue with you on that.”
GOJO sent you a post
babe
ME!
Notification noise
buzz buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzz
EMERGENCY!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
your lip twitches when you read “notification noise” but you hide it with the back of your hand, instead clicking the video he sent.
you think maybe it won’t be that bad—the thumbnail a photo of a white cat—and satoru watches you intently when he hears the audio start to play. ”top ten things you should pay more attention to. starting with number one—me.”
you blink.
the video loops.
“top ten things you should…”
“seriously, toru?”
“c’s get degrees. satorus need constant attention or they’ll die.”
you snort—maybe you’d take him more seriously if he wasn’t practically upside down.
“they’ll die! i’ll die! do you want me to die?”
“not on my couch, no.” you respond, standing up.
“oh, alright, apologies, my heart, for not taking your feelings into consideration. i’ll die on your laptop so you’re forced to face the consequences of your actions more directly then,” he says, sarcasm rolling off of him in waves, even as you make your way toward him.
“oh, thank you so much, my love, i’d greatly appreciate it.” you huff as you do your best to pull him back up to lie on the couch.
satoru lies on his back, arms crossed over chest, strands of hair messy across his forehead.
he says nothing as you stand above him.
yet despite his attitude, he lets you run your fingers through his hair to fix it, leaning in ever so slightly into the warmth of your palm. you pout at him endearingly. “okay, you’re right, i can work on the assignment later. i’m sorry for not giving you attention and ignoring your texts.”
“and?”
you quirk an eyebrow, trying to rack your brain for what else you could have done. “and…implying you could ever send me something stupid?”
“…apology accepted.”
“can i lie down with you now?”
satoru shifts as far as he can. “as long as my back is to the couch so you can’t push me off.”
“woah, woah, woah, okay, that was an actual accident, and you already accepted my apology for that! i even ordered food,” you remind him, maneuvering beside him so you can fit and wrap your arms around his torso.
he pulls your head to rest on his chest. “doesn’t mean i can’t stay on guard from now on.”
“oh, whatever,” you mumble, breathing in and noting the scent of his new cologne that he got a few days ago—the one he got because you said you liked it.
a hand comes up to rub the nape of your neck, and you melt further into him. satoru mutters, ”you’re not leaving until dinner now as compensation.”
“what if i have to pee?”
“i’ll follow you to the washroom.”
“inside?”
“you wanna hold hands at the doorway?”
“not particularly, no, actually.”
“maybe romance really is dead.”
you laugh into the fabric of shirt where you can feel his chest rumble with his own laughter, and your heart flutters as you feel satoru smile against you. he's warm, and his lips soft as they kiss your forehead, when you think maybe your work can wait a few days to really start.
hai. sometimes a girl has to write a bunch of domestic fluffy banter. who gets me. video cat is gojo catoru in another life btw... Trust. also im pretty sure this is the first time i get to use my jjk taglist. LMFAO
🏷 | @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife
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Last updated: 22 Oct 2024 IMPORTANT NOTE: Although I do not own the characters or specific events from The Walking Dead, this blog contains transformative fan fiction protected under the Fair Use Act and I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION for it to be copied and pasted, posted on other platforms or accounts, shared through videos or audio or screenshots, etc without the express written permission of myself. Sharing can be done with the ‘reblog’ button or sharing a direct link to my original work ONLY. Please ask permission to use any of my work as “inspiration” for your own fictional creations. I retain the right to refuse any requests and retain all rights to the work here under copyright 2024.
Requests are OPEN! Send them to my Ask box! Not all requests will be fulfilled.
Commissions are OPEN! DM me for details to commission a fic. Price list here.
You can also support me by buying me a coffee (or the dogs some kibble!)
Series:
*denotes ongoing series (newest on top)
Bad Medicine Imprisoned in Alexandria, Negan's mental health is suffering. After pissing off Gabriel, Y/N volunteers to take him on as a project, working toward some vague goal of rehabilitation. Can both Y/N and Negan come to terms with his past? And what does the future look like for the former Savior? Era: Alexandria, post-Negan Reader pronouns: largely unspecified Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (The Conclusion)
One shots:
(newest on top)
The Storm (Daryl Dixon x Reader but Negan-centric) Words: 7,737 Reader pronouns: she/her Imprisoned in Alexandria still, it seems Negan has a soft spot for Y/N, one of Alexandria’s doctors. With Daryl gone moving the The Kingdom to Hilltop, everyone back home tries to weather the storm. But help comes from an unexpected place when Y/N doesn’t return from venturing out into the blizzard. Era: Post-Negan Alexandria
Drabbles: (these links may not return every single relevant drabble, but pretty close!)
All Negan Drabbles (newest first) Negan Fluff Protective!Negan
#negan smith master list#negan smith x reader#negan smith angst#negan smith fluff#negan smith drabbles#negan smith imagines#twd#the walking dead#fanfiction#negan x you#negan x y/n
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uhmm i've been very busy on these last days so sorry if im going to write less, anyways imma post another short pov of Yeosang, for those who needs delulu pills (>ᴗ•)
༺sex tape༻
GENRE: smut (18+)
PAIRING: yeosang x afab!reader
W/T: rough sex, unprotected sex, filming
You looked at your boyfriend, who exited the bathroom after taking a shower. His naked chest was still wet, his hips only covered by a towel. You were laying on your shared bed, waiting for him to dress up, and cuddle a little before going to sleep. But, he unexpectedly dragged the towel down, revealing his hard dick. You looked at him confused, and suddenly felt dizzy at the idea of him dominating you mercilessly. Yeosang approached you, and leaned for a passionate kiss, which it turned into him giving you hickeys right under you jawline. Your hands were caressing his back, when he said:
"Babe, i need you to be a good girl for me." you smiled back, chuckling: "Yes daddy."
He didn't wait before grabbing the fabric of your shorts and dragged them down. "Good, now let me fuck you." he moved your body, your legs on his shoulders as he grabbed your hips harshly. He ripped your panties off, and looked at your throbbing pussy, only waiting for him to move on. You watched at Yeosang's expression as he shoved his length inside you: he threw his head back and let out a frustrated groan, his fingers gripping your skin intensely.
"Fuck- i couldn't wait anymore- im so hard, you better take me nicely, okey baby?" you whined desperately when his pace sped up, and the feeling of his tip touching your g-spot became more intense.
"Y-yes! P-please cum inside of me- fuck!"
His thrusts slowed down before talking again: "Take your phone." you opened your eyes after shutting them for the immense pleasure, and looked at him confused. "I want you to film us, baby. I want to see how it looks so bad." You turned your head, searching for your phone, before finding it, layed on the corner of the mattress. You took it and started to film Yeosang, while he pounded into you quickly, and insanely deeply. You struggled not to throw your phone away, and kept filming, when you were about to reach your orgasm. The sound of your high moans filled the audio of the video, the only thing framed was Yeosang fucking you roughly as his pretty cockslut.
"Fuck baby- you're so tight- im close-" he groaned feeling his climax hitting him, his thrusts became messy and sloppy as he tried to keep pounding you, while he was about to release his cum inside your folds.
"Give me the phone."
He took it in his left hand, and with the right one he helped himself sliding out of you. He zoomed on his pulsing tip, when it started to release ropes of cum right above your soaking pussy. He moaned lastly, and end the video, laying on your body, his head resting between your now naked tits. He played the video, showing it to you, with a smirk on his face:
"So fucking hot, isn't it?"
#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez#ateez hard thoughts#ateez povs#ateez smut#ateez fic#ateez hard hours#ateez yeosang#yeosang smut#yeosang povs#kang yeosang#yeosang hard thoughts#yeosang hard hours#yeosang scenarios#yeosang fanfic#yeosang imagines#yeosang#yeosang x reader#yeosang x y/n#ateez x reader#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop hard thoughts#kpop hard hours#kpop x reader#kpop boygroups#kpop pov#kpop scenarios
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An extra scnce idea for still here
Timothee gets sick and cancels their usual date night or night out with Madison and Y/N and Madison go to his house to find out why and then they take care of him 🥺
I have tried for months to draft this true to what was requested, but I was facing a mental block until I switched it to Madison being ill - then it just took off from there. Hope you still enjoy all the same.
Still Here (+3)
Summary: Timothée goes into dad mode when Madison is sick. Takes place after his dad has passed, so he doesn't have to worry about taking germs home. Post-engagement.
A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes" for my loyal fans. Catch up on the main storyline here.
The sound of the phone vibrating against the wooden top of your computer desk interrupted your train of thought as you knocked out a grant application for the library. You looked down to see the dreaded words "School Nurse" displayed on the illuminated screen.
"Hello?" you answered tentatively, already standing to grab your keys and purse. These calls were never good, especially midday.
"Hi, is this Madison's mom?"
"Yes, it is."
"This is Bethany, the school nurse. Madison came to my office because she isn't feeling well. She has a cough, stuffy nose, and a headache. She's also running a fever. Are you able to come pick her up?"
"Poor girl. I'm leaving work now. I should be there in about 15 minutes."
After ending the call and giving the library director a heads up, you called Timothée while on your quick jaunt to the car.
"Hey, baby. What's up?" You rarely called to just say hello in the middle of the work day, so of course, he immediately asked what was going on.
"Hey, just got a call from the school nurse. Maddy is sick, so I am heading to the school to pick her up." You got into the car and shut the door behind you.
"Is she okay?" His voice surrounded you, concern evident, as the audio transferred to the car speakers.
"Sounds like standard viral stuff for this time of year. She should be fine with some medicine and rest. But she won't be able to go out with you tonight. Poor thing. She's going to be so disappointed to miss Timothée Tuesday." Despite the stress, a fond smile graced your lips at the name Maddy had lovingly coined for their regular "date" nights.
"Aww. Well, maybe I can still bring her a treat, if that's okay with you."
"That's so sweet, but you'll run the risk of getting sick, too."
"No more than you. It takes a village, remember? Let your village step in and help. Especially while your parents are out of town," Timothée chided.
"Yes, I know. You are right," you replied with feigned attitude. "Hey, I just pulled up to the school, so I need to let you go. Let me know when you are heading over."
You barely parked the car before jumping out and running to the main door, pressing the buzzer and shifting your weight impatiently from one foot to another as you waited to be let inside. When you walked in, you spotted Madison slumped in an armchair through the rectangular window of the nurse's door. The girl livened up a little when she looked up at the sound of your voice.
You held out your arms to her invitingly once you signed her out, gingerly feeling her forehead with your cheek as you embraced her. The nurse informed you that she needed to be fever-free for at least 24 hours before returning. You draped your arm around Maddy's shoulders as you both turned to walk out the door. "Welp, looks like you and I get to play hooky tomorrow," you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Madison just wordlessly nodded.
Once you arrived at your parents' house, she voluntarily went straight to bed after downing medicine and a glass of water. Your phone buzzed in your pocket shortly after with a text notification:
"Leaving Hartley now. Need me to pick up anything? How is she?"
"She went straight to bed, if that tells you anything. Can you pick up some liquid child cold medicine? I gave her the last dose of daytime medicine I have on hand."
"On it. I'll be there as quickly as I can."
"No rush. She can't have another dose for at least 4 hours anyway. Thanks, love."
About 30 minutes later, Timothée sent you a picture.
"Is this the right stuff? I didn't know there were so many options."
"Right stuff, but do they have any other flavor?"
"I thought she likes grapes?"
"She does, just not grape medicine."
"Ah, ok. Bubblegum or berry?"
"Bubblegum."
"Got it. Need anything else?"
"Nope, I think I have everything else."
"K. I should be there in about 20 minutes."
You replied with a heart emoji and got to work on washing the dishes and picking up around the house as an outlet for your nervous energy. Timothée let himself in and set down the bags on the kitchen island. You rewarded him with a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you for your help."
He smiled softly then started unloading the bags. "Here's the medicine, and I also got your favorite candy bar because I figured you would be a little stressed."
"You know me so well." You kissed him on the cheek again, never tiring of the slight dust of pink blush that always appeared without fail. "What's in the brown bag?"
"Oh, I called ahead to the diner and they made a fresh batch of Maddy's favorite ooey gooey rice krispie treats just for her. Timed it just right so they were ready after I stopped at the pharmacy across the street. Mandy said to give you her best and that she hopes Maddy feels better soon."
I can't believe this guy is mine, you thought to yourself. "You are so good to her. To us," you praised.
He shrugged and blushed once more. "I love you both. Of course I'm going to take care of my girls. She still asleep?"
You were about to respond when out of the corner of your eye you spotted Madison slowly shuffle into the kitchen, mechanically grabbing for a glass for water. Timothée turned when you nodded toward her direction.
"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?"
She grumbled incoherently and held her arms out to him like a walking zombie, resting her face against his torso when she reached him. One more growth spurt and she'd likely be up to his shoulders soon.
Timothée wrapped his arms around her to complete the hug. "I swung by the diner and picked up rice krispie treats. Figured I'd bring date night to you."
You heard a muffled "thank you" as she spoke into his shirt. She looked over at the bag. "I- I think I'll have one later." He clasped the back of her head gently with his large hand and looked up at you in shock. He had never seen her like this before, unwell to the point of refusing her favorite snack.
Tilting her head back to look up at Timothée, she whined, "I'm sorry that we can't go out."
He responded with a gentle boop to her nose. "Hey, none of that. I had a long day, too, so chilling on the couch to watch a movie sounds amazing. What do you say?"
"Can we watch Spider-man?" she asked with a weak smile, perking up at the idea.
"Sure! I mean, uh, if it's okay with your mom. It is PG-13." They both looked over to you with puppy eyes. You weren't as big of a fan of comic-based movies as they were.
"Oh, alright. Why don't y'all go get it started while I get supper going?"
As they walked off, you heard him question, "Alright, so which universe should we start with? Tom Holland, Tobey Mag-" until their voices faded into living room.
You set to work retrieving all the necessary ingredients for the casserole you had planned for tomorrow since you expected them to be out that evening. Once it was in the oven, you strolled into the living room to check on them. Maddy had fallen asleep again, this time with her head on Timothée's shoulder.
"She sat still too long," he whispered after pausing the movie. "She didn't even make it past the opening scene."
You pouted your lip slightly as you took in just how comfortable Madison looked with her self-proclaimed "bonus dad." Her bio dad was never this good or patient with her when she wasn't feeling well. But you knew Timothée would sit in that position all night if that is what she needed. You stepped toward them to help him from his confines, but he waved you off.
"Let her sleep until dinner is ready. I'm fine." A shit-eating grin then flashed across his face. "You know, you could join me and watch your favorite neighborhood Spider-man."
"Which one did y'all settle on?"
"Tobey. I figured we should start at the beginning."
"At the peak, you mean?" you replied with a smirk.
"Wha- oh, so you DO like Spider-man; you're just a purist," he countered.
"I'm just saying I've never had a crush on Andrew or Tom like I did on Tobey."
His jaw dropped. "That movie came out while we were in high school. How did I not know about this?"
"A woman has a right to her secrets. Besides, I wasn't going to ogle my celebrity crush in front of my boyfriend!" you teased.
"Your fiancé now." He smiled cheesily.
You leaned down for a quick kiss and nuzzle to the nose. "Yes, my now fiancé. Ah, saved by the bell!"
At the behest of the oven timer, you quickly returned to the kitchen. You set the table and dished out the first serving. Timothée nudged Madison awake and walked behind as she shuffled to the table.
She slumped lethargically into her chair and slowly began to eat - more like poking her food around versus actual eating. When you gave her a pointed look, she responded, "I'm just not hungry. I can't taste it."
Pity washed over your face and Timothée's. "Alright, take three more bites so you have at least some nourishment. You'll need energy to get better. I can give you more medicine in about an hour, then you can go to bed."
After dinner, Timothée and Madison continued the movie while you cleaned up the dishes. You could tell the earlier dose of medicine was wearing off. She shifted frequently, trying to get comfortable, and let out the occasional whimper as the fever returned.
You dosed Madison with nighttime cold medicine about 30 minutes before the end of the movie, but she fell asleep again with 10 minutes left. Timothée chuckled and deftly picked the girl up from the couch and carried her to her bed.
"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he whispered to you as he shut the door and stepped back into the hallway.
"But you have to...," you started to respond, but the look of disapproval on his face shut you up.
"You know I own my own business, so if you are going to say, 'But you have to work tomorrow,' that's not a good reason. So I'll ask again. Do you want me to stay tonight? Yes or no."
"Yes," you replied with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, but pulled back with his face scrunched with concern.
"Are *you* feeling alright?"
"Me? I- I feel a little run down and a bit stressed, but otherwise, I'm okay. Why?"
Timothée looked at you skeptically. "You just feel a little warm to the touch. Come on, let's get you to bed, too."
You changed into pajamas and got settled in bed. Timothée followed suit after turning off the lights. Nestled into comfort of his arms, you quickly succumbed to your exhaustion.
Hours later, you were ripped awake by a gnarly cough that wasn't from you. Heart racing, you sat up to see Timothée sitting on the edge of the bed, softly illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand. Next to him stood your daughter, blonde hair pasted to her forehead with sweat.
"Is it alright if I give her more medicine?" he asked. You nodded after confirming enough time had passed, and Timothée stood to lead Madison to the kitchen.
"I can do it," you muttered sleepily, grasping at the blanket to toss it to the side.
"I've got it. And I'm going to grab you some medicine and a thermometer, too, once she's settled. You're like a furnace."
Too tired to argue, you snuggled back down under the covers. You knew Madison was in good hands and fell back to sleep before he returned. When you next woke again, you spotted a glass of water and some cold medicine tablets on your nightstand. Timothée sat next to you, resting against the headboard while reading a book from your shelf.
"Since you have that forehead thermometer, I took your temp while you were asleep. You are officially sick, too."
You groaned. "Fantastic," you retorted sarcastically. "Is Maddy still asleep?"
"I haven't heard her stir yet. Once she's up, I'll make y'all some breakfast."
You smiled. "Thank you for staying to help."
"In sickness and in health, right?"
You chuckled. "We aren't married yet, silly."
"Just a formality, babe."
<><><><><>
Masterlist
Tag list: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002
#timothée chalamet#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet x reader#timothée chalamet x reader#timothee chalamet x you#timothee x reader#timothée chalamet x you#timothée x reader#y/n#female reader#mom reader#single mom#single parent#single parenting#dad!Timothée#dad timothée chalamet#step dad#divorce#established relationship#sick fic#sick#fever#hurt fic#hurt/comfort#step parent#parent child relationship#parenting#contagious#timothée#timothee
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Hakuoki Drama CD Hijikata Biyori Special Edition "Sign Post 2"
Well, I know this is late, but in fairness, I didn't say that I'd have this done yesterday... but that I'd be starting it then. 😅
Also I may have been a bit distracted because I was watching Hakumyu Kazama-hen... and cuz my eyes starting acting up again today.
Hakuoki Drama CD Hijikata Biyori Special Edition "Sign Post 2"
Translation by KumoriYami
Hijikata: Hey, Souji. Is Souji here? Did he sneak out on his own again.
Saito: Is something wrong?
Hijikta: I can't find Souji. That guy hasn't been in Kyoto for long. Without me realizing it, he's gone and wandered off outside.
Saito: Although Edo and Kyoto are both large cities, they are still different. For Souji, who's just come to Kyoto, everything must be very new/different to him.
Hijikata: Do you think that too.
Saito: Ah. No... I apologize.
Hijikata: There's no helping it. I'll go bring Souji back.
Saito: In that csae, I'll go.
Hijikata: No, it's fine. I also need to get familiar with the streets of Kyoto... Well, this is also good opportunity. Come with me.
Saito: Yes.
---
Hijikata: Oh, so this is where you are. Ah, Souji, let's head back.
Okita: Oh, Hijikata-san, Hajime-kun. What's going on with you two? Are you sightseeing in Kyoto?
Saito: Souji, the Vice-Commander is busy, unlike you. Don't just head outside and cause trouble. Okita: Well, it's fine. There's nothing to do there and it's boring to just stay there.
Hijikata: We're renting rooms in Yagi-san's home so don't complain.
Okita: I know/understand.
Hijikta: Listen, Souji. We didn't come to Kyoto to play around. If you keep acting on your own like this and get lost, it'll cause problems for Kondou-san――
Okita: It'll cause problems for Kondou-san, so don't forget that this isn't Edo. It's fine, I know.
Hijikata: Ugh... seriously. Saito: By the way, Souji. Have you familiarized yourself with the streets of Kyoto somewhat? You weren't just wandering around, were you?
Okita: Yeah, tht's right. I went to the Yasaka Shrine and Kiyomizu Temple, and walked to Gion. I also discovered a delicious dango store, and that Kamogawa is a gathering place for cats.
Saito: I see. It appears you know about this plce than I do/more familiar with this place than me.
Hijikta: But even if you put it that way, those are all sightseeing spots in Kyoto.
Saito: Ah... tht's right. Having said that, I don't there's anything wrong with that. It’s inevitable that you won’t know where to go when you first go to Kyoto. It was only after going around the city that I truly felt that I had arrived in Kyoto.
Hijikata: No, but――
Okita: That’s true. And Hijikata-san, we might not have much time left to do that.
Hijikata: Huh?
Okita: We don’t know how long we'll be able to stay in Kyoto. We aren't here to have fun.
Saito: Souji...
Hijikata: I really don't want to be hearing that from you. Alright, I get it. Souji, Saito, please show me around Kyoto today.
Okita: Okay~ I'll show you around, but I'm hungry right now. Of course, Hijikata-san will pay for the meal.
Hijikta: Ah? I never said anything bout you treating you to dinner! Oi, hey, hey, Souji~! Hold it!
---
Okita: Well… that was fun.
Hijikata: Ha… Thank to you two showing me around, I've become bit more familiar with the streets of Kyoto.
Saito: Indeed. Ah… I'm a bit tired now.
Okita: How troublesome, that's all Hijikata-san and Hajime-kun could do. Then, shall we head back now?
Hijikata: Yes. We should return before sunset.
Okita: Then, Hijikata-san, which way to go back from here?
Hijikata: Eh? Y...You brought us here didn't you?
Okita: I was just walking around randomly, so I don't really know which way to go.
Hijikata: Huh? Hey, Saito, do you know the way back?
Saito: My sincerest apologies, but I've never been around here before...
Hijikata: But… you guys are… oh, that's right. Sannan-san once said that Kyoto's roads are arranged like a grid on a chessboard/squares on a grid [check audio], so even if you get lost, there won't be any problems.
Okita: Eehhh――
Saito: Eh.
Hijiktaa: Ah, it's probably... probably that way!
Okita: I'm really not sure about this.
Saito: I, I shall follow the Vice-Commnder!
Okita: Ha――Hajime-kun is always like that. But, I'll go with you. Because I have no choice but to follow you, Hijikata-san.
Hijikta: Yes, follow me!
Saito: Yes!
Okita: Yes~
---end---
#hakuoki#hakuouki#hakuoki drama cd#hakuoki drama translation#hijikata biyori#hijikata toshizou#okita souji#saito hajime
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Tickles and TikToks
A lil fluffy collab with my girly @harlowcomehome 💖 we spent the past couple of days writing for y’all and this one was definitely so much fun. A lil fluff to go with your earlier angst if you will hehe
I hope you guys enjoy!!!!
You and Jack were laying in your bed as you both mindlessly scrolled through your phones. It wasn’t common that the two of you both had a day off that aligned, but you did today and you weren’t going to let it slip away.
“You know what we should do?” You say in excitement, jumping out of your spot on the bed, looking at Jack in eagerness.
“Uh…” Jack starts, already not liking whatever idea you had made up due to the look on your face.
“We should try these TikTok dances out!” You start, interrupting Jack. You make your way to his side of the bed, grabbing his hands in yours as you drag him off the bed. He gives you a look in hesitation, but he was a sucker. He wasn’t going to let your happiness slip away.
He stands exactly where you instructed him to, letting out a sigh as you positioned the camera to face the two of you. “So here’s what you do,” you start in excitement, turning to look at Jack. He was giving you a look of concern, a laugh itching to leave his body at your excitement. “Don’t give me that look, you’re gunna love this.” You quickly tell him, him raising his hands in surrender. He faces the camera once again, waiting for you to continue. “It’s that song by Katy Perry. You’ll know it when you hear it. You just dance like a dumbass. That’s it. Easy.” You tell him, Jack gives you a nod in understanding, however his face only showed his hesitations. “You ready?” You smile at him, pressing the record button.
“Babe wait” he huffed, facing you. “I can’t dance, you know that” he laughed and you did too.
“It’s just for fun! I’m not going to post it, it’ll be just for us” you nod and he smiles in response.
“You’re going to have to go slow for me” he laughs, standing beside you, ready to be taught the moves.
“You act like you have no rhythm, don’t tell your family but you’re the only one that does” you giggle, making him less tense as he broke out in a fit of laughter.
“Okay, let’s do this thing,” Jack tells you, shaking his hands to prepare himself to start dancing. You walk up to press play on your phone that was still propped up, stepping back next to Jack as the music starts playing.
Summer after high school, when we first met
It was after you heard the first line of the Tiktok sound that you realized you actually didn’t know the dance either. You turn to look at Jack who was already looking at you with his eyebrow raised. “Why aren’t you dancing?” He asks suspiciously.
“Um- well. Funny story.” You start, the audio still playing. “I actually don’t know the dance either,” you smile to Jack, a small chuckle leaving your body.
“You don’t what now?” He laughed with a raised brow. “Y/N! You had me thinking you had it all together!” He smirked and stifled another giggle.
“See that’s where you fucked up! That’s on you!” You laughed back, making him grab you by the hips and tickle you.
“Jack! Stop!” You squealed. “I’ll get you back!” You mustered out all the energy you could to reply between giggles. You lifted your head up, rubbing your chin in the crook of his neck where he was most ticklish.
He laughed, “that’s not fair!” You were quick and maneuvered your way on top of him. “You did it now!” You laughed before trying your best to hold the six foot three man down.
You somehow managed to pin his arms down with your hands to stop his tickling. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, beginning to nip on his collarbone knowing that was a ticklish spot for him. Jack tried to playfully fight you off as the two of you were fighting for air in between your deep belly laughs. “Mercy! Mercy!” Jack was the first to yell, causing you to come up and remove your hands off his arms.
As soon as he had access to his hands again, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped the two of you over, him now being on top of you. He brings his forehead to yours, just soaking you in that moment.
“I win,” you giggle to him causing him to laugh too.
He finally crashes his lips to yours, the two of you taking the other in.
When you finally come up for air you two are staring into each others eyes, with anyone else this would be tense/ awkward. With Jack you feel like the only woman in the world.
You start to speak but he does too, you giggle. “You first” you hum.
“Thank you for always pushing me out of my comfort zone, and just” he paused “being you.”
You felt your face get hot, “stop, you know I’m sensitive, I’m just a baby” you tease. He bends down to kiss you again, lingering longer than expected.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” You wiggle your brows at him.
“If you’re thinking the tiktok dances can wait and the bedroom dances can begin, then yes” he laughs as he helps you up from off the ground. You run over to your phone immediately, letting out a giggle as you stopped the recording, thankful that you got that whole moment on camera for just the two of you.
#jack harlow#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow imagine#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow x y/n#jack harlow x you#jack harlow fanfiction#jack harlow fic#jack harlow fluff
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Deku's birthday series Q n A!
This will most likely be my last post pertaining to the Deku's birthday series for awhile. I'm sorry it came out late! 😭
There are some behind-the-scenes screenshots over on my Instagram if anyone wants to see, so go visit my post after you’re done reading this! https://www.instagram.com/eris.snow/
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Katsuki, slamming the door open: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
Now, I have no idea what you’re—
Katsuki: NO! YOU HAVE EVERY IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOING. HOW DARE YOU, LEAVE ME WITH THE NERD AND HIS FUCK-ASS MEMORIES. FREAKING. FUCK. YOU!
Come on, it can’t be that bad—
Katsuki: JUST SUCK FACE WITH HIM ALREADY
No.
Katsuki: I will kill you and make it look like an accident, come here you—
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Hey I’ve always wanted to do one of these.
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Question: Is there going to be a part 3? Deku birthday series
Ans: Yes, there’s going to be a part 3, and it will be the last part of this Izuku trilogy of Deku’s birthday series! (Because I’m unwilling to milk this more than necessary)
Question: Why the ending? (Aka, why did you write another cliffhanger ending that’s so unsatisfactory) -Revelation
Ans:
The answer to that is that I felt it was a little unfair to have Izuku have Starlight handed to him on a silver platter. Frankly, I want to see him work for Starlight, because she’s worth it, and we haven’t really seen that. Also, angst.
Question: What can we expect in the next part?
Ans:
Definitely more flashbacks from Izuku’s point of view. Also, it will be a happy ending, confirmed. I think it’ll be a little irritating to see things go nowhere if I make a part 4. I really don’t like dragging things out longer than necessary, but the next part should be more Izuku-centric. Plus, there are a bunch of scenes I wanna write that are now unlocked because Izuku remembers, so stay tuned for that!
Question: How did you come up with the story’s narrative? -Secret
Ans:
Honestly, I have no idea. As I was writing the first two chapters, I was bouncing ideas off with one of my loved ones, and it just clicked. I did a little reshuffling, and then ironed out a cohesive storyline. Secret came at like a odd spot of, should I write a birthday series for him, because I did it for bakugou. On Tumblr, it was a lot more popular than I thought it would ever be, and Secret struck a gold mine with my AO3 audience.
Question: Do you relate to Starlight (Y/n)?
Answer: In some ways, yes. Sometimes, you’re afraid to let go of pain when that’s all you’ve ever known, and I wanted to show that. After all, Izuku and Y/n are teenagers. They have no idea what they’re doing, just working with bits and pieces. Kinda like how sometimes, we have no idea what we’re doing at whatever age we’re at. Also Starlight’s internal debate of whether to accept the offer of removing one of her feelings, and dissociating herself. Sometimes, cutting of feelings seem better, especially when you need to steel yourself. But no one should ever cut their feelings of entirely.
Question: What’s next in terms of your content?
Answer:
Er, a lot. First, I need to finish Anachronism and Juxtaposition, because I’ve been delaying doing that. And request, oh, gosh I’m so sorry to anybody who put in a request recently. But, I’ve still got lots of ideas I want to put out! Thank you for supporting me, and I hope that you’ll enjoy my other series! If you have any suggestions on what my long fic should be about, you can ask me on Tumblr or Dm me on Instagram at eris.snow!
Question: What’s next for Deku’s birthday series?
Answer:
Err, I really want to do an audio adaptation of this (Something like a CD drama), because I’ve had offers from really nice people to turn my story into something like an audiobook. I don’t think that’ll be really good for my work, so I kinda want to turn my story into a script and pull strings together to make it into a CD drama, ASMR roleplay, honestly idk what to call it.
Still working it out though! If you want updates or to ask for more questions about that, you can find me at eris.snow on Instagram and tumblr (I post more on Tumblr, like the freak I am). Looking for VAs interested to voice these people, so if anyone wants look forward to a post coming out somewhere in November ish that will release more details!
It’s going to be my first time doing something like that, so if anyone has any pointers, please tell me, I need all the help I can get 😭
PS: This is only tentative. I’ve expressed interest in doing it, but nothing is set in stone yet! However, if there are people interested in this idea, then I’ll definitely take it into consideration whether or not this will, or will not happen!
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That’s all I want to address. Hope this clears things up for everyone!
#Revelation#Deku's birthday series 2024#mha#mha fanfiction#deku x reader#izuku x y/n#izuku x reader#midoriya izuku#izuku midoriya#Secrets#Deku's birthday series 2023
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hello, have a good day. i was wondering if you got into anything new as of late, be it a book, an animations... i've started to like dungeon meshi/delicious in dungeon, i hope you give it a try if you can
hey anonymous--the day is basically over already, you know?
mostly all i did today was work and listen to stephen king audiobooks (while at work, while on daily/nightly walks), which i really have a soft-spot for and always get excited to start a new one; today i finished The Langoliers and started Secret Garden, Secret Window (or is it Window, Garden? I forget) from the novella collection Four Past Midnight; the former is narrated by Willem Dafoe and was pretty alright but shockingly pulpy (even for King), and I'd even say I really enjoyed it--cept Willem Dafoe does a pretty horrendous job being audible (he:ll go so low that sentences basically just become indistinct growly slurs at times), and does a pretty horrendous job voicing this character Becky (or Bethany? awful with names);
there:s that movie adaptation i:ve never seen of it, but even more interesting about The Langoliers and its movie adaptation is there is a re-edit of the movie where each slide is printed out on paper and then re-shot that way, called The Timekeepers of Eternity which looks really neat, cause it:s based off the neuroses of this character called Craig who rips-up paper throughout the story to calm down his neuroticisms.
i thought it was a little less 'interesting' than some of the other King stories i:ve gone through, but the stand-out points were: the past being described as a stagnant pond and peoples/things stuck there became denatured--as opposed to something more fantastically 'time-travel-y': here in Langoliers the past is just a rotting carcass without wind, color, smell, taste; the relationship between blind-girl dinah and craig--because it reminded me of DaS3 Archdeacon Mcdonell and people seeking covenant through him (though in this case it is dying versus dead);
Secret Garden, Secret Window has better narration but my file seems corrupted, or the person who ripped the audio did something with the pitch to avoid copyright like old youtube content-id avoidance; after awhile the audio will start to warble like a Longmont Potion Castle bit, and occasionally there are jarring cuts that seem like the file got scrambled--which has made it hard to follow. but: i heard this was the weakest story in Four Past Midnight, but i:ve been really enjoying it otherwise--sort-of reminds me of the villain from Night of the Hunter (which i:ve never seen, but i imagine the villain acting like John Shooter from Secret Garden, Secret Window).
I watched the first two episodes of Dungeon Meshi and thought it was good, but boring, and dropped it; finished Mushoku Tensei sometime early last week, though--that:s a great show.
that:s it; it:s a terrible reason to donate to me, but the bulk of my monthly subscriber posts on substack are basically me blogging about shows/(audio)books i:ve finished during the month--so, if you:re interested. haven:t been reading much or watching much because i:ve been on my feet sunup-sundown most days lately.
take care.
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So, I weirdly haven’t written enough about this on this blog so far, given what a big thing it is for me – I’m going to the fucking UK this summer. For real this time. For real. Here is a post about it.
I first posted on this blog about wanting to go to the UK in early 2021, I think. I remember making posts about how maybe once the vaccines were finally released, and I was all vaccinated, travel would be safe, and I could go for a little while before I start my college courses again. That didn’t happen for quite a few reasons.
I spent much of 2021 planning a hypothetical trip, knowing it probably couldn’t really happen, because obviously things like this don’t really happen, but I needed something to fantasize about in the depths of lockdown. It’s odd that a global pandemic made me interested in international travel for the first time. Pre-COVID, my life was so full of a single sport that I didn’t really have time to think about anything else as a hobby. I was on the road most weekends, but that road was the 401, driving off to the same few cities anywhere from two to twelve hours away, to sleep in a cheap hotel or on someone’s gym floor and then shout at teenagers at day and immediately drive home. Every once in a while we’d go to a tournament in the States, which counted as exciting international travel. The idea of actually seeing places that are not in or near the border with my country just hadn’t occurred to me.
Then the world ended, I fell deep into the Britcom rabbit hole, all that stuff. And in 2021, I got really into 1) memorizing how to label all the countries and major cities in the world, and all the counties or other regional areas in the UK and Ireland, on a blank map, because I’d learned that the larger world existed and I wanted to be clear about where it all is, and 2) going through places I’ve never been on Google Earth, usually while listening to audio comedy. I also took to looking up things to do in the UK on Trip Advisor, mapping the route on Google Maps and following it on Google Earth, knowing this was all for a hypothetical fantasy trip but still researching things like train fares and schedules because it was more fun if it felt like it could be real.
I’m fascinated by the idea of places that are Different From Here being actual real physical places where people could actually go. Which is especially weird in this case because I actually have been to the UK. I have a godmother there, whom I’ve met in person three times, twice when she’s come to Canada and once when for my sixteenth birthday she paid for my mother and I to go to England for a week. We stayed at her place in London, did all the tourist-y things, also spent a day in some spot in Somerset but I’m fuzzy on where or why, it was 2006. My clearest memory of the week is seeing Spamalot on St. Patrick’s Day and thinking it was the coolest thing ever. I’ve also got fairly clear memories of climbing stairs at St. Paul’s Cathedral, thinking Westminster Abbey was the most beautiful building I’d ever seen, and seeing some extremely cool stuff at the British Library including some original handwritten Beatles lyrics. And I remember the tube and being impressed that the cars really do have driver doors on the wrong side, that’s not just a thing they made up on Fawlty Towers.
Still, it was so long ago, and it was such a short time compared to the amount of time that I’ve spent watching Britian on TV, that it does feel a bit like Britain is a fictional place that exists on TV. Obviously I realize that’s a very ignorant North American thing for me to say, and in my defense I think I know a hell of a lot more about Britain than the average ignorant North American. I can label all the regions in England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales in under five minutes. But I’ve got to admit, on a visceral level, learning all that stuff does feel a bit like memorizing lore in a fantasy novel.
There is kind of an appeal in the idea that… okay, the last time I was this obsessed with something besides a sport in which I actually participated, I was a kid in the Harry Potter fandom. I was a kid who read a lot of books, and a lot of my favourites happened to be British fantasy or sci-fi novels (Harry Potter, CS Lewis, Tolkein, His Dark Materials, Douglas Adams), but Harry Potter was the one that took over my life from the ages of about ten to fourteen. You classic situation of – didn’t have friends in real life, all my social interaction came from Harry Potter message boards, a vast chunk of my free time dedicated to reading every passage of the books over and over and over and analyzing them and writing things about them and I made some friends on the internet who loved Luna Lovegood as much as I did. Then I got to high school and started wrestling and made some friends in real life and slowly moved away from online fandom, didn’t do anything except that for fifteen years, then the world ended, I came back and found a new online fandom that was also British but had less magic and more panel shows, then the author turned out to be a terrible person and ruined my childhood.
Anyway. The point is that I remember when I was a kid, obviously I spent ages fantasizing about being able to actually go to all those places in Harry Potter. But I couldn’t, because those are not real places. Well, my new foray into fandom also feels a bit like that – like this fictional thing I’ve got obsessed with that no one around me knows anything about but some people on the internet are into it. Except that this time, the place where all these things happen is actually a real place, and I can pay money to go there. This concept remains amazing to me.
So I mapped out the idea of this trip a couple of years ago, and for a long time, it stayed in a limbo between fantasy and genuine possibility. I did actually start working out budgets and putting money aside for it, but all the while thinking this won’t actually work. I was starting to do things post-lockdown again, the sense that we were all locked down so nothing is real so I may as well engaged in some escapism and plan some fantasy trips – that started to give way to regular life, and in regular life, I’m not a person who does shit like that. I can’t just fly across the ocean to see a fictional place. I still had it vaguely in my head that maybe someday I’d like to, but I stopped actively planning anything.
But at the same time, the whole concept of Britain was starting to feel a bit less fictional (I’m… I’m feeling the need to clarify, again, that this is just a sort of emotional automatic response to put “the place where Britcom happens” in the “fictional” category in my brain… I did not at any point genuinely think the United Kingdom was fictional… especially since I’ve been there before). I do remember the first time I got physical, tangible proof that the people in the fictional Britcom world are real, when Russell Howard came to my city in March 2022 (my then-girlfriend got us tickets because she knew I liked British comedians, she was excited about it so I didn’t tell her that actually I’m mad at him for the Jordan Peterson apologism so don’t want to go, it’s not something I’d have chosen myself but it was a thoughtful gift and to be fair an extremely fun night), and I could not get over the idea that the man from the fictional place was here in real life displacing air like he’s a real human being and actually all of it is physically real. Over the next few months I did an 8.5-hour drive to New York City to see Nish Kumar, and then two months later a 2-hour drive to see him do the same show in Montreal, because it was that fucking great a show. I also saw James Acaster in Montreal, and a club night with Dara O’Briain and Fern Brady and Phil Wang and Tom Allen and Sindhu Vee and every single one of them was an actual real person breathing the same air as me. Before the show I saw Dara O’Briain on the street and was so shocked that I hit my mother too hard to show her and she jumped and the commotion attracted his attention and I didn’t know what to do except stare at him like he was a zoo animal until he smiled awkwardly at me and went on his way.
Things like this did rather renew my interest in a trip, not just for the novelty of seeing a place that feels fictional, but for the more practical purposes of seeing my favourite comedians live. My interests within Britcom were starting to shift significantly toward stand-up, I got obsessed for a while with learning everything about the history of the Edinburgh Festival in the 21st Century, it seemed like another world, the time of the Chocolate Milk Gang and 24-hour shows from the early 00s, but then I watched videos on the internet that were filmed at the 2022 Edinburgh Festival and realized this place is actually real and still happening now and it is technically possible to go there.
After that, the concept rapidly became de-fictionalized in my mind when I sent someone a message on a comedy forum, in the hopes of finding a few comedy recordings that I heard existed, and by complete coincidence stumbled upon the best person I possibly could have. I’d thought worst case scenario is he doesn’t reply and I will be left to assume he saw my message and considered it horribly rude, great scenario is he has a few things I’m asking for, amazing best case scenario is maybe he has lots of stuff and is willing to share. As it happened, I got the best case scenario, plus far more than that. Specifically, a the coolest fucking person I could possibly have found, as a new friend, direct interaction that made all of this seem a hell of a lot less fictional very, very fast. He said things like “So are you ever going to come out here and actually see this stuff yourself”, and I said things like “Obviously I have plotted a route and looked up train fares but don’t be silly, that was just the stuff of lockdown-induced dreams.”
I quickly started planning things more seriously, but at the same time, the editing work I’d been doing started drying up, I had a bit of a financial crisis where I became concerned that I’d be unable to pay rent, and couldn’t save for a trip. I followed the 2023 Edinburgh Festival from afar, from NextUp streams and hearing stories about it from a friend who actually went there and sent me pictures, which was so fucking cool, and it was all so very very real.
I got a new job, this one much harder because it involves leaving the house all day for five days a week, but also it’s much more stable than the editing work I did for all of lockdowns, and I was able to start saving money in the second half of 2023. I learned that the place where I work shuts down for the last week of July, and the Monday of the following week is a holiday. So I put in a request for just four days off, the Tuesday-Friday, to create a two-week holiday. One week in London at the end of July, and one week in Edinburgh during the first week of the Edinburgh Festival.
The time off got approved (barely, I was told I can’t book any other vacation time in 2024, but I got it) in late 2023, and it was so exciting, and that’s the first time it started to feel even a little bit real. Then I booked an Air B&B for the week in Edinburgh, because it’s my understanding that accommodation availability and prices are a huge issue there and you want to book early. I think I did well, though. Found a place that’s not cheap but not unfeasibly expensive, I can have my own room and it’s a 50-minute walk or 10-minute bus from Edinburgh city centre. It was so exciting to book the place, put some money down, finally have something on the books for sure. Though I did triple check that it’s fully refundable if I cancel up until pretty much the day before, just in case something goes wrong.
I booked the flights over Christmas. They weren’t cheap, but I was able to afford them without destroying my ability to pay rent, because it turns out there is a reason why I put myself through human interaction for 8-10 hours five days a week. I did pay an extra fee to give myself the ability to pay another fee and cancel them, because still, it felt like I can’t be totally sure this will actually work. But that was a big commitment.
And that’s pretty well the main things sorted out. I still have to book a whole lot of train tickets, but I have the flights. I have the time off work. I have the Edinburgh accommodation. I have accommodation in London, because the absolute coolest person I could possibly come across on a comedy message board has a spare room, and is extremely kind and generous with his time and space, and I’ve said some pretty disparaging things about that message board before (based on some quite bad threads from like fifteen years ago, that I spent weeks reading in their entirety because, you know, autism), and I would like to take them all back.
Now they’ve announced the first bunch of acts at the 2024 Edinburgh Festival, and I’ve been going through picking out which ones look most interesting to me, and for maybe the first time, it’s finally feeling completely, entirely real. This is happening. For real this time. I am going through an Edinburgh Festival catalogue not just to take screenshots of the most interesting blurbs so I can save them in a folder and/or post them on my blog to say here’s an interesting piece of history. I am going through it to pick what shows I wish to see.
So here’s my plan, that I’m writing because I now feel confident that I think it’s actually going to happen. Obviously I have a spreadsheet with various tabs, and a KMZ file so I can open Google Earth with all the places I might potentially want to see already marked. I have been planning this trip for years. I have two weeks in the UK, and I don’t want to waste a single second. I want to make sure all that time spent planning comes to something, because as a fundamental part of my personality, I have always believed that there is a level of planning you can do to guarantee that everything goes right. This belief has been proven wrong time and time again, but I’ve never tried something with this much planning beforehand, so surely this time it’ll work. No taking a chance on some tourist attraction that might turn out to be shit, because I’ll have looked at it all on Google Earth beforehand and ranked things in order of how cool they look.
I have organized my spreadsheet into seven tabs: overview, plan by day, places to eat, things to see London, in Edinburgh, in Cambridge, and things to pack. I have organized each “things to see” tab into three sections: things I want to see for reasons related to general tourism, things I want to see for reasons related to comedy, and things I want to see for reasons related to Harry Potter. I apologize for the latter, and obviously I will not be doing anything that would give revenue to JK Rowling. But nothing JK Rowling can say in the 2020s will change my childhood, and I need to spend some amount of time indulging my childhood dreams of running around fancy buildings feeling like I’m in a magical British land.
London, tourism: pretty straightforward. Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Cathedral are on the list, because I remember how cool they were last time, and because for some reason when I stopped being Christian at age 16 I did not also get rid of my awe at fancy churches. I want to see Parliament and related areas, I want to try to get a picture of the Number 10 door as seen in Yes Minister. I want to see some bridges. Take a cable car across a river. Go look at Douglas Adams in Highgate Cemetery (I realize there are more famous people than Douglas Adams there, I’d like to see them too, but mainly Douglas Adams). Go see what The British Library has going on while I’m there. There are too many pubs on the list given the fact that I’m currently trying to stop drinking, I am going to cut some of those pubs off the list and I’m just trying to decide which ones, but I really love a good pub and the ones in London look so cool and even if I can’t have a pint I want to sit there in the atmosphere and have a burger or some shit.
Harry Potter tour of London is simple. Obviously I want to go look at King’s Cross Station, I did it when I was 16 and it was so fucking cool, I don’t care how stupid that is. Otherwise, I’ve looked up three different areas that were used in filming Diagon Alley, and according to Google Earth, seem like the do sort of look like Diagon Alley-like places. That’s what’s interesting to me. I’m not really interested in places where the movies just happened to be filmed (the movies were fine, I’ve seen them a couple of times each, but it was the books that I read until I had them nearly memorized), I want to see places that look like they could be where the books were actually set. And Goodwin’s Court appears to look like where Harry Potter could have actually been set. So I’ve made an appointment to go walk down a road.
For the comedy-related locations in London, there are a few venues I want to see. Ideally while something’s playing in them, but even if there’s nothing I’m interested in at the Soho Theatre while I’m there, I’d still want to go in and just see the building, after the all the shows I’ve seen and heard that were recorded there. Same with The Bill Murray. Battersea Arts Centre. I also wish to make a pilgrimage to the bit of Regent’s Park where Daniel Kitson’s done some of the most landmark nights of comedy in the last twenty years. Obviously I want to go stand outside the gates to the Taskmaster house and see just how close it is to that golf course. (There will also be a few hours of the itinerary where I might just leave some of the details blank, no need to get too much into what I want to see there, it’s in my spreadsheet as just “Crystal Palace”, and I will say that if you don’t want people to go look at a place where you used to live, don’t make your address the title of your theatre show – I need to stress again, just so we’re clear about what level of creepiness I’m talking about here, it is a former address, not anywhere that anyone significant lives now or has lived for the last fifteen years, it's just the subject of comedy stories that are now long in the past, as are various surrounding landmarks, it’s archaeology.)
Now, in Edinburgh I’ve put a lot fewer things on the itinerary, because I want to leave most of my time for going to see comedy shows. And going to see a couple of music shows, because that first wave of events they’ve announced includes a couple of traditional Scottish music things that I am so excited about, it’s going to be mostly comedy but I do want to do that as well. Celtic music, Harry Potter, British comedy – all the biggest special interests of my life besides the one where you beat people up, all easy to access at this festival (I mean, technically Edinburgh has something called wrestling too, but it’s best if I don’t hear anyone try to compare the Max + Ivan wrestling to the sport that I do).
I do want to climb Arthur’s Seat, because I’ve done it about a hundred times in Google Earth so I just have to do it in real life. When Mark Watson released his book last year, I got the signed and dedicated version and he said we can tell him about a problem we have for him to solve in the dedication. I said my problem is I’m going to London and Edinburgh next year and need advice on where to go, he said I should climb Scott’s Monument. Even though my levels of respect for Mark Watson have dropped significantly since that book actually came out, I am still going to climb Scott’s Monument because Mark Watson told me to.
Similarly, this extremely kind and cool person I know recently got the chance to get me an autographed copy of Tim Key’s new book (which I unfortunately won’t get until I go to London and pick it up in person, but it looks great), where he also asked Tim to give me some advice for my trip. Tim Key said to go to Mosque Kitchen, and Indian restaurant in Edinburgh, so I’m doing that. Oh, and while I’m in London I have to go to a place called Kebab Kid, because it’s Nish Kumar’s favourite shawarma place in England, which I know because I know a guy who could just walk up to Nish Kumar after one of his gigs and ask him what his favourite shawarma place is. Have I mentioned how fucking cool this is?
Anyway. That’s the extent of my interest in Edinburgh tourism, mainly. I mean, if I were going when the festival weren’t on, there would be plenty of other stuff I want to see. But I don’t want to take time away from festival events. I might do the castle. The castle’s probably cool. I definitely want to walk up that hill, as I’ve done many times on Google Earth, and look at the castle. Whether I pay to go inside will depend if there’s a hole in the comedy schedule, I guess.
In the Edinburgh – Harry Potter section, I have a few things. Greyfriar’s Kirkyard, the graveyard with the story about the dog that’s probably bullshit (I mean, it happened, but I think someone was just feeding that dog) but the story about how it inspired Harry Potter character names that’s true. Go get a picture of Tom Riddle’s grave. I’ve marked a couple of streets and a couple of buildings that look particularly like they could be from Harry Potter, those are on the list of places to walk. There’s a Harry Potter store that I want to go in and look through the stuff because the interior seems really cool, but I promise I would never spend money in there.
And then Edinburgh – comedy will probably take care of itself. I want to see The Stand and The Gilded Balloon, as the sites of many of my favourite comedy events over the last twenty years. But I’m hoping I’ll end up in those places anyway to see shows, so no need to make a special trip. If not, though, I’m making a special trip. I have to see the stage where the cow got torn apart. I absolutely have to go see it in person.
There is also the Cambridge tab, because I have blocked off one of my London days to take a train to Cambridge and back. I have made a Google Earth document with about 20 of the most interesting-seeming colleges marked. Obviously I’m not going to see 20 colleges, I’m going to look at them all in Google Earth and then rank them by how cool they look and go see as many as I can in order. I have also, of course, marked down which ones let you take tours and at what times. The place I’m most excited to see is the Wren Library, which appears to be a library from Harry Potter or His Dark Materials or something. I want to see Trinity College because it’s the college on which Douglas Adams based the college in the first Dirk Gently book. A few of the colleges have chapels that look really pretty and are interesting to me because I have for some reason not lost my awe of pretty churches. And mainly, I just want to walk around the Cambridge University grounds looking at stuff.
Oh, and we’re leaving another day to take a train to Kent, where they have an archive of stand-up comedy materials that I wish to see. But I haven’t made a tab for that, because I just want to see some stuff in the University of Kent and then go back to London.
I am also hoping I can block out one day from the Edinburgh week to not book any shows, and just take trains around Scotland. I have always wanted to take trains around Scotland. I have always romanticized trains, I have always romanticized Scotland, taking a train through rural parts of Scotland will make me feel like I’m on the Hogwarts Express, it’s everything my over-romanticizing heart fantasized about when imagining this trip. I’ve checked, and while it would be an incredibly long day, it is possible to take a train from Edinburgh to Mallaig in the morning, have a couple of hours in Mallaig, and take another train back at night. This would take me, twice, through something that’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful train journeys in the world, from Glasgow to Mallaig. Mallaig is a tiny village on the West Coast of Scotland and it’s got a hiking trail and a pub and I just want to take a train across a country and walk around the trail and then sit in that pub and look at the ocean. I want that so badly. It’s been a rough couple of months, I find it hard to spend 8 to 10 hours a day interacting with other people, the thought that one day in early August I might spend one hour sitting in a pub in Mallaig looking at the ocean is really getting me the through the day at this point. There are a few pubs in Mallaig, but obviously I’ve picked out my favourite. I want to eat seafood. I love seafood. That’s not just a Mallaig thing, seafood is my favourite food and I always eat lots of it when I visit the East Coast of Canada because it’s better near the ocean. All of Britain is near the ocean, so I want to eat all their seafood.
Okay, that’s the plan. I was going to write about what I’m thinking in terms of actual shows to see, but I might let that turn into a different post. Right now, I’m just excited about the idea of posting this on the internet because it is real and I am actually going to do it and having this to look forward to is way too big a proportion of my motivation at this point in my life.
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~ What Is This? ~
I am the entity known online as JarateChop or Jarate - she/they.
This blog is "jarateblog" because "jaratechop" was already taken by a now dead TF2 blog...
Blog Information
I have a blog on my website with posts that are more boring, personal, or technical than what I post on here.
Personal tag explanations:
#choppost - Posts related to my online presence
#jarchive - Archive of older material of mine
#jaratechef - Things I cook and like to showcase 😜
Everything else is generally sorted by artists, characters, series, or other general terms (like #fav, etc.)
Interests
Music is my life source and I am deeply rooted in '70s-'90s electronic. Some of my favorite bands/artists are...
Cabaret Voltaire
Gary Numan
Yello
Orbital
Squarepusher
Depeche Mode
Underworld
Kraftwerk
New Order
The Beloved
...AND SOOOOO MANY MORE!!
Help share the love by talking with me about them (feel free to tag/send me posts about those artists)! And... If it's not obvious, you'll spot me in a crowd wearing all black 🖤🖤
I've mostly fallen out of video games but I hold at least a passing interest in series from Capcom, Sega, Nintendo, and Irem.
I don't watch TV, but will watch the occasional movie with my bestie. I watch anime occasionally, as you'll discover with some of my most popular posts.
I read but am not well-read 🤪 so give me a couple years to catch up on books!
What Do I Do?
Jack of all trades but a master of none: I occasionally doodle and play guitar, bass, keyboards, and program drums (no room for a real set...). Soon, I hope to have something I'm ready to present.
My background is in computer science, but I currently work in networking and audio engineering/mixing.
You should know my political opinions if you made it this far! If you need a reminder: pronouns, electronic music, a Tumblr account...
Wrap-Up
I wrote this bio because I felt like it, and to prove there's someone behind this Shard profile picture. If no one reads it, oh well! It's here anyways!
Thanks for reading, and stay groooooovy!
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18. Stalker
This was the day that Wonwoo, Vernon, and the one who took the picture and posted on Instagram meet, at the restaurant of Wonwoo's mother.
As they were waiting on this Wonwoo's stalker, his mother gave them iced tea to ease them up cause they're so intense when they get there at the restaurant.
"Who will you meet today? You seem very tense today." Wonwoo's mother said.
"Ma, it is someone we don't know and we have something to discuss with them. Something serious." Wonwoo said calmly but deep inside he's agitated.
"Okay, I'll leave you two it."
"Sorry auntie, and thank you for this lovely drink." Vernon said politely and Wonwoo's mother gave her a smile.
After 15 minutes, she arrived and spotted them immediately.
This stalker is cute, little, flat 5, but has an aura that you wouldn't like at all.
She sits where Wonwoo and Vernon are immediately, and she's quite a chatterbox.
"So, why did you two want to meet me up?"
She said cheerily even though she knows the answer.
'Why would you even care to ask if you know the answer already?' as Wonwoo thinks of what he's going to say but Vernon interrupted him as he knew what he was going to say to her stalker that she might not like.
"As upon agreement, we are here for this matter, right?" Vernon put his phone face on her and pointed out where her account and the posted picture on Instagram. "You see, we don't want any trouble, if you're not going to put this down, we'll take legal action as far as we are concerned."
"You think you can threaten me with those words of yours?" She said cockily. "Try and sue me, you don't have any evidence that it is me who posted it."
With her stupidity, Vernon cock a smile and tells her "If you're not the one who posted this, why did you come here and sit here as if you know who you will meet up?" The stalker immediately was dumbfounded with her small tiny acts.
"I-"
"Admit it. We just want you to shut this off pleadingly, if you want something, please do not drag other people. You can take a pictures all you want with him but do not drag an innocent girl in this." Vernon said beggingly and pointed Wonwoo.
"Okay, okay! But in one condition."
Vernon and Wonwoo look at each other and ask synchronically "What is it?"
"Please take a picture of me and Wonwoo." the stalker said with shy remarks and Vernon was so confused but he took her phone and did it immediately.
"After this, you have to promise to delete that post and put this in your post instead." Wonwoo said, he was still reluctant to take a picture with her stalker but did it anyway.
"Okay!" She said with a puppy look in her eyes.
They have finished taking a picture and the stalker showed the two of them that she deleted the picture.
Vernon added "If we see this picture one more time on social media, we're going to take action, legally."
"You have my word." She stood up and walked away satisfied with having a picture of Wonwoo and her.
The tense ease up and Wonwoo drinks his water.
"You recorded the audio, right? We needed evidence as much as possible so that we can take this matter legally." Vernon said
"Wow Vernon, I've never been impressed by you, not until right now." Wonwoo said with an amazement.
"Hyung, I can be reliable at times." Vernon said proudly "and look, she posted the two of you and the caption said... I had an amazing date with him today."
"She can do whatever she wants with me but don't drag y/n into her mess." He said as if he wants to throw a punch "this is so dragging." He said helplessly.
"Should I call y/n on this matter? She also feels helpless as if it was the end of the world." Vernon said.
Wonwoo just nod and look at his phone with the wallpaper home screen of y/n's picture in it.
Vernon called you and said "y/n, we patch it up. You can rest assured and go to his account again."
With your sigh of relief you just thank Vernon so many times already.
Little did you and Wonwoo know that he's been falling, but he is still getting there.
Wonwoo saw how Vernon smiled as if she saved his girl from the accusation and Wonwoo's mind seething in jealousy and think 'How can he sit there, laugh and happily smiling while talking with you.'
He held those thoughts so tightly and looked away.
Vernon saw through him and made his call to you in loud speaker. "Oh, he took a picture of her and Wonwoo? Is she a stalker?" You said.
"Yup, that is why instead of posting you and Wonwoo out of jealousy, she posted herself and Wonwoo and looked at the caption said." Vernon said while laughing.
"I had an amazing date with him today." You said loudly. "That's not a date though! That's negotiating. " You said protestingly.
Wonwoo smiles at the back not looking on Vernon, but Vernon really laughed out loud as if he's laughing at your joke but in reality he is laughing at his hyung.
With that, y/n end her call.
"Who's that lucky girl you're calling with?" Wonwoo's mother said.
"Oh, it's not my girl, it is hyung's girl." Vernon said pointing out Wonwoo.
"My son's girl? You mean, that young beautiful girl that I met last time? OmO"
"Ma!" Wonwoo said
"Auntie, you've met her?" Vernon said curiously.
"Yes, she's quite hospitable and good nature. She is pleasantly beautiful. No wonder, my son fell for her."
"Ma!"
"Shush." Wonwoo's mother said while teasingly his son.
"Auntie, can I play a music? It seems that Wonwoo had a good time."
"That's a better idea! Hit it Vernon!"
"Ma!" Wonwoo said pouting but you can see his smile.
Then Vernon hits the music ' I'd Lie by Taylor Swift '
I don't think that passenger seat
Has ever looked this good to me
He tells me about his night
And I count the colors in his eyes
He'll never fall in love
He swears, as he runs his fingers through his hair
I'm laughing 'cause I hope he's wrong
And I don't think it ever crossed his mind
He tells a joke, I fake a smile
But I know all his favorite songs
And I could tell you
His favorite color's green
He loves to argue
Born on the seventeenth
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him
I'd lie
He looks around the room
Innocently overlooks the truth
Shouldn't a light go on?
Doesn't he know that I've had him memorized for so long?
He sees everything in black and white
Never let nobody see him cry
I don't let nobody see me wishin' he was mine
I could tell you
His favorite color's green
He loves to argue
Born on the seventeenth
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him
I'd lie
He stands there, then walks away
My God, if I could only say
I'm holding every breath for you
He'd never tell you, but he can play guitar
I think he can see through everything but my heart
First thought when I wake up is
My God, he's beautiful
So I put on my make-up and pray for a miracle
Yes, I could tell you
His favorite color's green
He loves to argue
Oh, and he kills me
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him
If you ask me if I love him
I'd lie
To be continued...
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MONTHLY MEDIA: January 2023
Holy cow a new year! Off to a good start and here’s all the art/media I experienced this first month of 2023.
……….FILM……….
M3GAN (2023) Was every plotpoint and death telegraphed from moment one? Yes. Was it full of wildly bad decision making so that the movie could happen? Yes. Was it everything I wanted? Yes.
Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery (2022) Eagerly awaited this and overall, worth it. The CGI-heavy ending felt more Netflix than Knives Out. The rest of the film, as well as the mid-film twist that feels on par with the first movie, felt right at home. I’d love to watch more of these and hope A. They can drop the “Knives Out Mystery” subtitle and B. They keep it focused on character and plot instead of spectacle.
Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio (2022) Beautiful. The design and changes to the familiar were fantastic. Found the pacing to be a little slow in spots but I’m sure it’s impossible to cut any of the puppetry on display.
The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) Okay technically I watched this on New Year’s Eve but my December post was already out. On this rewatch I noticed each Marley kinda holds out their hands while the other is singing their verse, and what really struck me is just how full each environment feels. Muppet movies always have so many extras and details that may not be noticed but are felt. Really such a treasure.
……….TELEVISION……….
The Last Dance (Episode 1.01 to 1.10) Okay technically I’ve been watching this since before the start of the year but I forgot about it. Not knowing much of anything about basketball meant I was both surprised by every turn AND completely confused from all the time jumps. It makes each game seem like this is the most important game ever and because I had no idea what game we were talking about, I kept thinking it was THE game. Anyway the last 2 eps saved it for me as I really was thrilled by them winning THE game.
……….YOUTUBE……….
TikTok: Life on the Algorithm by Errant Signal For the uninitiated, a solid introduction to TikTok as a platform. And even for those who are familiar, it touches on nuances and trends in a way that explains what felt unexplainable. VIDEO
The Horrifying Panopticon of West Elm Caleb by Sarah Z A good companion piece to the Errant Signal video. This breaks down one viral event in TikTok and the great implications of it. And it’s not really just applicable to TikTok. VIDEO
……….READING……….
Circe by Madeline Miller (Complete) Despite it taking me all month to read, I loved this. It’s kinda like Forrest Gump but for Greek Mythology in that you get to see a lot of these big myths, heroes, and monsters from a different perspective. But that’s not to diminish Miller’s writing of Circe who has such natural and incredible character growth. Highly recommend.
Old School Essentials by Necrotic Gnome (Complete) Okay so more of a rules book for running old-school role-playing games, I did read through it this month so it still counts. I’ve been keen to explore other rulesets and while this is still D&D, it’s interesting to see how this interpretation of the original rules differs from 5th Edition.
Witch Hat Atelier Volume 1 by Kamome Shirahama (Complete) Not a bad start! The characters feel a little trope-y but it’s the first volume and the art is so good that I can’t help but keep going. The magic and world is creative and there’s enough layers to the early plot that I’m looking forward to spending more time in this world.
……….AUDIO……….
Love Me More by Mitski (2022) Just a really tight quartet of tracks. Big fan of Mitski’s sweeping synths but it’s fun that these are a little more energetic! Gosh I wish jazzercise was still a thing cause I’d absolutely run in place to all of these songs.
……….GAMING……….
Hades (Supergiant Games) I’m a simple man; I read a Greek mythology book I go back and play a Greek mythology game. That plus the sequel reveal has me very excited. Still such a good game.
Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) My tuesday crew is digging deeper into the politics and history of the land of Fairies but they aren’t quite done with the island of Neverland just yet! You can read more about our weekly exploits here. And the Mof1 group is amassing a variety of magic weapons and possibly planning on buying real estate in the Gnome hamlet. Always an adventure.
And that’s it. See you in February!
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