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The Ecstasy of Eden: 4 & 5
Good Omens fic: Chap 4 & 5 Four of five times they used sex pollen, and one time they didn't
Excerpt
“The music is good, isn’t it?” Aziraphale said, his face as bright as the morning sun. Crowley’s eyes dropped to his lips, moist from whiskey, he noticed a small dot of cream on the edge of his mouth.
“You have -” Crowley leaned forward without thinking, and ran his thumb to catch it. Aziraphale’s cheeks turned pink, and his eyes stretched wide.
“Oh.” Aziraphale’s small pink tongue dipped out, and brushed the edge of Crowley’s thumb; a volt of electricity zapped his hand, he pulled away stunned.
“Eclair,” Aziraphale smiled, licking the corner of his lip to fish the rest of the cream off. Crowley’s fingers clenched hard against his thigh.
He looked so beautiful. Why did he always have to look so damn beautiful?
“Right, mm, yeah.” He stared forward, not daring himself to gaze any longer.
The band stopped, and the air stilled; Aziraphale glanced up and caught Crowley’s eyes through his dark glasses. The air crackled with static electricity, and Crowley’s knees bounced, unable to stop it, he knocked into Aziraphale.
“M’sorry,” he mumbled, he began to move it away.
A hand caught it.
---
Things are happening in a seedy jazz club in London.
It's a double chap drop this week for reasons.
CW: Sex pollen, dub con
Rating: Explicit
Start here
Read Chap 4 & 5 here.
We're nearly at the end. Thanks to: @adverbian, @voluptatiscausa, @malachitegrey again for the High Sex Pollen Event! And to my lovely betas: @fuzzygoblin , and @happynachohologram.
@goodomensafterdark
#good omens#good omens 2#self recs#good omens fanfic#aziracrow#jazz cafe#sex pollen#high sex pollen event#good omens after dark#buckle up#We're earning our tags today
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spent weeks psyching myself up to stand up to my mum and then immediately got shot down by her 😃👍
#vent incoming i apologise in advance for the long tags#we've lived together just the two of us since dec 2021 (although her boyfriend is here like 2/3 of the time as well)#and since i got my job in march 2022 i have been paying half of all the bills (literally down to like tv license when i barely watch the tv)#which is £300 a month#plus i buy all my own food + pay for the amazon prime she uses + contribute to various household things like toilet roll etc#and she doesn't have a mortgage so i am paying the same amount as her to live in her house#(and it is very much her house not our house)#and I've never been very happy with any of that but never complained either#but then recently it turned out she never set up the water bill when we moved in (it's one of the only bills i didn't sort for us)#so we have a huge backdated bill from dec 2021 and i knew she was going to tell me to pay half#so for the past month or so I've been preparing myself for this conversation and sure enough today she came and said 'we owe £700'#so i was like 'oh i thought maybe it would've been covered by my £300/month' which is the biggest stand I've been able to work myself up to#and she immediately started going on about how i live here too and use water too so it's just as much my responsibility to pay#and how when we're both earning i should be paying my share and i was like yeah i know that's why i never complained about paying before#but also i already pay more than most people would to live with their parents#and she went off about how actually most people charge their grown up kids rent on top of the bills so really i'm lucky i don't have to#(when she got the original £300 figure it was actually rounded up from like £240 to include 'rent' but i wasn't gonna bring that up now)#and in conclusion she doesn't see why she should be subsidising my bills#like i don't know maybe because you're my MOTHER and i am your CHILD who is just starting out in the adult world#and maybe that entitles me to being treated better than some lodger???!!!!!#anyway i paid the bill and now i'm trying and failing at not crying at my desk 😃#talking
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Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2024
As promised, we're bringing you the official prompt list of AI-less Whumptober 2024 today!
We have 31 days of excellent whump prompts, with three prompts per day to pick from, fun themes, and 10 alt prompts to play around with. We hope you enjoy! Additional info + plain text versions of the prompts can be found under the cut.
FAQ and Rules
What sort of content can I create for this event?
You can create whatever you want (fic, art, edits, etc). Any fandom is allowed, as well as OC stuff. NSFW is allowed, but please tag your content accordingly! The only thing not allowed is AI-generated content.
Do I need to make 31 things to participate?
Oh heavens no! You can make as much or as little content as you like, skip days when desired, or combine prompts (so for example, write something that covers a prompt from day 1, 2, AND 3). You don't have to do the days in order either, go wild! To be considered a 'completionist', you only have to make sure that at the end of the month, you've covered 31 prompts from 31 different days, but whether you do that in 31 works or just 1 is up to you.
What are these alts about?
If none of the three prompts of a particular day are your cup of tea, you can swap them out for an alt prompt of your choice.
What are these themes about?
Just a little bit of extra fun for the mods. Like last year, we'll be handing out various badges for people participating in the event. A full list can be found here, perhaps there is a special badge or two for people who can't be completionists but who do manage to finish every single day of a specific theme ;)
How do I tag and is there an AO3 collection?
It suffices to tag your work with #ailesswhumptober for us to see and reblog it! Please also tag nsfw, since we'll be using that tag too. Tagging the day is optional but does help the mods along.
There is an AO3 collection to add your fics to here.
That should be all. If you have any additional questions, check our pinned or hit us up in the ask box. Or join our discord maybe, whumping can be a great group activity!
---
Plain text versions of the prompts:
October 1 - Torture Tuesday
public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”
October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday
Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”
October 3 - Trauma Thursday
Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”
October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday
Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”
October 5 - Sensory Saturday
Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”
October 6 - Surprise Sunday
Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”
October 7 - Medical Monday
Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”
October 8 - Torture Tuesday
Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”
October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday
Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”
October 10 - Trauma Thursday
Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”
October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday
Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”
October 12 - Sensory Saturday
Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”
October 13 - Surprise Sunday
Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”
October 14 - Medical Monday
Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”
October 15 - Torture Tuesday
Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”
October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday
Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”
October 17 - Trauma Thursday
Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?��
October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday
Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”
October 19 - Sensory Saturday
Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”
October 20 - Surprise Sunday
Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”
October 21 - Medical Monday
Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”
October 22 - Torture Tuesday
Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.” October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday
Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”
October 24 - Trauma Thursday
Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”
October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday
Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”
October 26 - Sensory Saturday
Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”
October 27 - Surprise Sunday
Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”
October 28 - Medical Monday
Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”
October 29 - Torture Tuesday
Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”
October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday
Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”
October 31 - Trauma Thursday
Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”
Alt prompts:
1) Pistol whipped
2) Co-dependency
3) Animal bite
4) Zombies
5) White room torture
6) Shock collar
7) Pulling teeth
8) Kidnapping
9) “You always make everything worse!”
10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”
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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
1 | Something about you
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.
❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…
But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe.
Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…
Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.
Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.
“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”
Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.
And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”
You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”
“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”
You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”
“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.
“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”
“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”
At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.
Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.
Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”
“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.
“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.
You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“
“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”
You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”
“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.
You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”
He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”
Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.
He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”
Your brows lift, “Am I?”
Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”
“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”
The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”
You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”
“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“
“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.
“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.
You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”
He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”
“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.
There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?
Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”
You blink, “A name…?”
“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.
“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.
He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”
“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-
“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.
“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.
“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.
God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…
Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-
“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.
Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??
“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.
The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.
“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“
“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”
You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”
“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”
You hum, “Right, sorry.”
It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.
You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.
Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“
“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”
Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“
“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.
Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.
“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.
Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”
“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”
He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”
“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.
“Damn, really?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”
You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”
“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.
Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”
“Maybe you should,” He tells you.
A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”
The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.
“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.
Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“
Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“
“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.
“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.
Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”
“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”
You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”
The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”
“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.
“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”
“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”
“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.
Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”
His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”
You nod, “I see…”
“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.
You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”
Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”
The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”
“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”
Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.
“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.
Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”
“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.
“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.
“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”
Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”
You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”
“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.
“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”
“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”
Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Gojo hums.
“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.
“Anytime-”
Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”
Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”
You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”
“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”
“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”
“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.
Gojo frowns, “But-”
“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.
Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.
You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”
“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”
Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”
“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”
The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”
“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.
Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.
Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.
The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.
After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.
Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”
Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.
Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”
Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”
You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.
His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”
“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.
"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."
And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.
Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you.
He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…
With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”
“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.
Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”
Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.
“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.
His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”
You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”
“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.
Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.
Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.
You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”
“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.
You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”
“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”
You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”
He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”
“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.
Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”
“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”
He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.
“Yeah, very.” You hum.
Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”
You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”
“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”
You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”
Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”
At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.
Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”
Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”
“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.
Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”
“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.
You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”
“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”
“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.
Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”
“Maybe,” You shrug.
His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.
All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”
You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”
Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”
“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.
He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”
“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’
Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”
Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”
He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”
“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.
Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”
You glance at him, “Debatable.”
He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”
“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”
Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”
Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”
“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”
Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”
“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”
You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”
“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”
“Away from you!” You call back.
He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”
Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”
Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”
He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.
You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.
You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.
So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.
When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.
That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions.
Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.
Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.
“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.
“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”
He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.
“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.
Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”
You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”
He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.
You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”
“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.
“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”
Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”
Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.
He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“
“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”
Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”
You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.
After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”
“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.
You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”
Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”
“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.
“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”
Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”
Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”
You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”
“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”
“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.
Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”
Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”
He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.
You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”
Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”
“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”
“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.
To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”
He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.
Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.
Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.
Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”
You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”
He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”
Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.
Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.
Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“
“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.
You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”
He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”
You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”
And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”
“I’m hanging up,” You groan.
His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
You send him a look, “Are you?”
“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”
Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.
“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.
Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”
Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“
“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.
He shuts up again.
“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.
To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”
“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”
You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“
The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.
Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.
mlist | next chapter |
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=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡
=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader
=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, surgery descriptions, crazy sexual tension, eventually explicit sex etc. ER setting. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap, work sex, complications, lots of humor, eventual drama and angst. Grey's vibes ✨️
=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!
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=͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist =͟͟͞♡
♡ Part One ♡
Fuck, you’re exhausted, the first month of your internship as a surgeon was brutal, you haven’t had but a couple hours of sleep here and there, mostly on some of the hospital beds. Your bones ache, your skincare routine is barely hanging by a thread, and your hair is a wreck in a messy bun today. You thought med school was difficult, but it was nothing like this.
“Hey, you okay babe?” Your best friend Maki Zenin asks softly, you look at her and smile, nodding, she purses her lips, tilting her glasses. “No you’re not.”
“I’m wiped, Maki. This patient injected cocaine up his ass.” She bursts out laughing right in the middle of the hospital floor, you cover her mouth quickly, looking around. “Shh!”
“Shit, forreal? I thought my case was bad, he’s been here eight times for hits of pain meds since I have been here, he keeps bashing his hand on shit.” She sighs, handing her files to the desk then picking up several more.
You’re both in your pale blue scrubs, Maki’s pretty green hair is high up in a ponytail, now your other two best friends from your internship come up, Inumaki Toge and Yuta Okkotsu, both looking exhausted along with you. Yuta’s eye bags rival yours by far, he slicks back his dark hair as you all check the time on your watches.
“Another sixteen hours almost down.” He says through a yawn.
“Tired.” Inumaki says, and you sigh, nodding in agreement.
“Fuck that, we need to throw a party.” Maki says, somehow still so energetic, and you’re so confused how it’s possible.
“Party?” Inumaki asks, he’s certainly a man of few words, but his violet eyes explain whatever anyone needs to know.
“No way, Maki. Fuck that.” Yuta says, earning Maki sticking her tongue out at him.
“Buzz kill, ugh. Listen, this weekend, we’ll invite some of the people from our class, we can invite some of the other interns too. Ooh, maybe even those sexy resident doctors.” She wiggles her brows with a mischievous little grin.
“Maki, we're too old for that shit now.” You grumble.
“Bitch we’re twenty six? How are we old.”
“I feel ancient.” Yuta agrees. “Coffee everyone?”
“I have to stop by Doctor Gojo’s real quick, meet you all there?” You say, and they nod, waving you off as you head to your Resident doctor’s office. Dr. Gojo was the boss of you four, one of the residents along with Dr. Nanami and Dr. Geto. All three were fawned over by all the interns, except you.
Yes they were gorgeous, and yes Dr. Gojo was positively beautiful, with his snowy white hair, his glittery blue eyes, his big grin. But you were just too exhausted and too beat to really fawn over someone, especially someone you really could not be with, seeing as he is your resident, you’re just a little intern. Satoru also happens to be the top surgeon in the hospital.
You go to knock but see his door is cracked open, you carefully take the knob in your hand, twisting it and peeking your head in, seeing Satoru Gojo’s head fall back, as he’s gasping. You look curiously, but his hands are up on the desk, as he’s biting his lower lip, his brows together, eyes shut. You clear your throat and he jerks then, clearing his throat.
“Um… hey intern.” He says, his voice clipped. You shut the door behind you, tilting your head curiously at him, his face reddening slightly.
“Dr. Gojo, I have a question about this patient, is everything okay? It won’t take very long.” You say, and his eyes flicker over your face, an expression you can’t explain, as he sucks in a breath.
“I um… can listen… in… fuck, fuck!” He moans then, he clearly moans, and you hear a bump on his desk now. “Oh, oh that’s so much better.”
“I… what the fuck!?” He flushes then, sliding back, and one of the nurses jumps up, giggling now and wiping her mouth, she has pretty blue hair.
“Thank you Miwa, you’re a gem.” He stands, patting her head with a smile, and she giggles again, as you watch in confusion, your brows together, mouth open. “I need to talk to her about cool doctor things, I’ll see you around later?”
Cool Doctor things.
Blow jobs on the clock?
How is this your boss?
“Yes, Dr. Gojo. Hi there!” She waves at you, as if nothing has happened, as if she wasn’t just sucking Dr. Gojo off, and he’s looking bashful!?
“What the hell is this shit? Lock a door?” He comes to you, locking the big door with a click behind you. “Not now!”
“I forgot it was open, shit. I’m sorry. Stress relief, you know.” He smiles down at you, a stupid smirk you’d like to smack off his pretty face, hands in the pockets of his long white doctor jacket. “Don’t you ever need any?”
You heat up at his husky tone, as you realize just what you’d walked into. It had been a long time since you’d even thought that way, not just with Med school but now being an intern, especially since you broke up with your ex months back. “What? Yuck don’t come near me.”
“Why, ya jealous.” He brushes your hair back, earning your glare. “You’re awfully cute when you are.”
“Jealous of you? No thanks, I'm good. I sure am not part of your fan club.”
Satoru pouts. “Yeah, and you’re the only one.”
“Yep. Anyway, I’m now disturbed.” You shiver with feigned disgust, making him snort a bit in laughter. “But I only came in here to go over Mr. Lewis.” Sighing, you hand him the file with a gentle brush of your fingers against his palm. “He's been a difficult case.”
“Fuck, the cocaine dude? Ah shit, it’s that bad?”
“We have him stable, but something about it threw me off, how could it be that severe of an effect? Colitis has lasted days now and no improvement.”
“Mmm, true. But it makes sense, you can’t just inject cocaine into the anus and… have a party.” A hint of laughter escapes from his lips before he can control it, earning a stern look from you, making him study the file more carefully.
“Be serious.”
“I’m your boss, you know!”
“Yeah, somehow. Anyway, I feel there is something underlying. Perhaps exasperated by the cocaine.”
“Up the ass! Hah!” He’s smacking his long leg now, chuckling, earning your glare. “Oof you’re so serious, sorry, carry on.” He gives you a mock salute, and your eyes are so far back in your head they might stay that way.
“So I’m wondering if he has something else, untreated, the man has no history of any doctor visits since he was living with his parents.”
He taps his chin then. “Hmm, good point. It’s possible. Have we checked him for Chron’s?”
“Shit, maybe, that would make so much sense too, his white blood cell count is through the roof. I’ll leave a note to run some tests before I go.” You take the folder back then, your fingers brushing, and it brings a blush to your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, intern?”
“Just weirded out by you, Dr. Hojo.” He snorts then.
“Dr. Hojo!?”
“It’s what they call you, I guess it’s true.” You say, raising a brow, and he is leaning close, too close. You can smell that stupidly expensive cologne he wears every day, filling your senses far too much. You try to avoid those eyes, even though you look at them all the time, they still are…
Too much.
“And you don’t ever wanna just get eaten out?” You blush more now, looking down as he stands up tall, so fucking tall over you. “Don’t be shy now, we spend more time together than alone.”
“I don’t do that when not in relationships.” He pauses, and you expect some joke, since he takes nothing serious but surgery it seems. But he tilts your chin up, and studies you with those eyes, lids lowering ever so slightly.
“Aw, so you’re a good girl.” He says teasingly, causing a warm sensation to spread through your stomach at his words. You shake your head and try to ignore the fluttering feeling within you.
“Don’t say that!”
“Turn you on?”
“No! Jesus. I don’t care what people do with their bodies, I don’t care if you’re a whole manwhore-”
“Excuse me!”
“But I just need a relationship, I’m not attracted to just looks, there has to be a deeper connection.” He studies you carefully now, so serious unlike his usual goofy demeanor.
“Hmm, a challenge.”
“What now?” You glare up at him, clutching the folders to your chest tightly. “Not a challenge, you psycho. Go get all the blowjobs you want, like Thanos collecting all those infinity stones.”
He grins, sharp little fangs glinting, and you don’t like the effects it’s having on your body, or your mind. You can barely take a breath. “You’re actually so funny, holy shit.”
“You don’t really know me. Aside from work.”
“You never take me up on any of those offers of coffee, or grabbing a bite, all you do is work Missy. All work, no play, makes a sad girl.” He taps your nose, and it scrunches up, making him smile a bit. “Cute.”
“Whatever, I have to work my ass off, it’s important, I have to make sure I get to scrub in with you. That chance comes at the end of this month.”
“Well you’re the top intern I have, so don’t worry so much.” He pats your shoulder, and you blink a bit. “Surprised? How. You graduated top of the school, you bust your cute little butt, and you’re intelligent, caring for your patients. Of course I was picking you first.”
“Oh my god…”
“You’ve ruined your own surprise. Act surprised when you find out, mmkay?” You hug him then, heart racing as you think of it. “Oh so now you like me.”
“I can really scrub in to a surgery with you!?” You couldn't contain your excitement as you leaned back and looked up at Satoru Gojo. He nodded, his hands taking hold of your waist through your scrubs, and that touch?
Does things, fuck.
“I’m so sorry-”
“You’re fine, intern. Stay a little longer.” You nervously step back, his hands are still on your waist, making you tremble, as your eyes both lock.
“I can never fuck such an opportunity up. Um… thank you though, that gives me so much hope, maybe I can actually relax for two minutes!” He smiles softly, nodding, his hands falling to his sides. “I’m sorry I…”
“Interrupted? Nah. Think you made me cum quick.”
“What!?” You glare again, and his smirk makes you itch to smack him all over again. “Dr. Gojo!”
“You’re so pretty though, I think it made her job quicker. Win win.”
“I’m out of here. Ugh.” You turn away, hand on the knob, and then his comes on top of it and gently unlocks it with a twist, you feel his hard body against your back, and you get overwhelmed in his office, damn near unable to breathe, as he’s clearly…
Is Dr. Gojo inhaling your hair!?
“New shampoo?” He asks, you turn to glare up at him, putting your faces far, far too close.
“How would you know my…”
“You always wear that one that smells like strawberries, this one is more floral. Hmm I don’t know if I like it as much, but it’s still yummy.”
“I… you…”
“See you later, intern.” He says softly, then finally steps away, leaving you reeling as you hastily step out without a word, leaning your back against his door, shutting your eyes for a moment in the quiet hall his office is in. You shake yourself out of it quickly, he’s just being…
Dr. Hojo.
Notorious womanizer, but the best damn surgeon there was, a whole idiot and yet an entire genius. And not your type, not at all, even if he’s gorgeous, you did not like man whores, or men that aren’t serious, especially not your boss, anyway. Fucking your boss in this industry would essentially make everyone question every accomplishment as favoriteism.
You sure weren’t going to sacrifice all your hard work for some dick.
You bounce away, heading to the little cafe where your friends are waiting, sitting next to Yuta who hands you a coffee with a little smile. “Thank you, ugh.”
“You’re welcome, girlie.”
“So, party?”
“Maki!” You three say, and she sighs, shooting her espresso down.
“Next weekend! Come on you guys, what do you say?”
“Oh fine.” You concede. Maki, Yuta and Toge all live with you, in your town home, since you could absolutely not afford it yourself, with the shitty pay of your internship and the college bills. It was left to you, but you still had property taxes and other bills, so they helped a ton. “No one better fuck my house up, I swear.”
“Hell yeah, here’s to a party bitches.” She holds up her little styrofoam cup, and you all cheers each other then, laughing.
“Party, hmm?” Comes Dr. Gojo’s voice, he’s standing there with Dr. Geto and Dr. Nanami. You all get nervous then, but he grins. “I’m coming. What about you guys?”
“No way.” Nanami grumbles, he’s very serious, his glasses slung over his sandy blond hair, his face exhausted.
“I’ll come.” Dr. Geto chimes in, chuckling and sipping his coffee, he’s as tall as Dr. Gojo and well swoon worthy. He would be more your type you think, with that serious yet fun nature, whereas Dr. Gojo…
“C’mon Nanami. You gotta, you gotta, you-”
“Jesus you’re a child.” You say, and Gojo gasps at you, Geto and even Nanami laugh, only earning Gojo’s scowl.
“You brat, I’m a good eight years older than you!”
“You look like a twenty year old frat boy.”
"And you look like an angry little brat!” He shot back, only causing more laughter to erupt from the group.
“Okay, okay.” Dr. Geto holds up his hands now. “Let’s be nice, kids.”
“Kids! Suguru I’m older than you.” Gojo says with a glare.
“Like six months. Anyway, we’ll be there at this party, text us the details? We’d love to unwind.” Dr. Geto says, and Maki jumps up now, as you and Gojo are glaring at each other across your table. “Got it, thank you Maki.”
“Of course, we’ll invite both of your interns too. It’ll be much needed after hell month.” You just sit there, as they all talk, and Gojo is all pouty, like a baby. You peek at your phone now, seeing a text from your shitty ex, your face falls.
“Everything okay?” Maki asks softly, and you sigh, nodding.
“Just the ex.” You whisper back.
“Ex huh?” Satoru has somehow gotten behind you, leaning over, you smack at his hand then, glaring. “What, I wanna know!”
“You’re too fucking much sometimes. Ugh.” You stand up then, slinking past him. “I’m headed to get changed and then I’m leaving. See you all at home?” They all nod, eyeing you and Satoru curiously, you wave at the Doctors then head out.
Ugh, along with Satoru just being… weird and annoying, and your ex? He was a toxic, needy mess. He’d left you because you didn’t have enough time for him, and maybe you really didn’t, how could you have a relationship until your internship was finished? The first week none of you even left the hospital, sleeping in bunk beds and showering there.
But he constantly needed you, made you feel guilty, would fuck with your alarms and everything. Thank God he was long gone, even if he was annoying you currently, you delete his messages, heading to the locker room and hearing steps. You look back curiously to see Satoru holding the door open for you.
“What are you doing?”
“I am sorry, that was rude of me.”
“Yeah, well, what’s new.” You both walk into the locker room now, Satoru’s shrugging off his white lab coat, your cheeks heat up while you slip off your scrub top, it was normal to change in front of everyone, you all had co op locker rooms and showers even, all of you took years of anatomy, the human body was nothing really but parts.
But as you feel his eyes on you, when you’re down to just a black lace bra and a pair of boy shorts, you tense a bit, looking at him, shirtless, his lips parted as he looks at you. “I am sorry I know I annoy you, Miss perfect.”
“I’m no Miss perfect. I guess I have a lot to prove.” You say softly, trying not to drink in his rippling muscles, perfect well defined torso, cuts low where he’s now sliding up a pair of dark blue jeans.
His blue eyes fixate on you as he does, as you’re sliding on a pair of jeans yourself, buttoning them with trembling hands. “I had a lot to prove once too. I do understand.”
“You’re being serious?” You tease, earning a little smile, as he slides a black long sleeve shirt over his head. You get flustered as you realize your nipples are pressed against the cups of your bra, sliding your shirt and then a jacket on yourself, sitting at the bench to slide on your black boots.
“I can be serious sometimes, I just think there’s enough death, sadness, and depression in this career. Why not just try to have some fun? Otherwise, it’ll just consume you.” He says softly, in that husky voice of his, so sexy it alone could wreck someone. But his words…
“That makes sense.” You say softly now, standing as he does, grabbing your purse and locking up your locker, spinning the combination, at the same time he grabs his keys and wallet. “So you try to… brighten up things.”
“Yeah, someone has to.” He walks to you then, tapping your nose once more. “You’re too serious, you’ll have to lighten up, or this career will wreck you.”
You nod then, carefully, realizing perhaps this slutty, silly doctor had a lot more to him, than just being the perfect surgeon. “I’ll take that advice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, also…” He leans forward as you all are stepping out of the locker room, headed toward the automatic glass doors, and you look at him curiously. “Nice panties.”
“Oh fuck you, Dr. Hojo!” You glare now, shoving at him, as he heads to his mercedes benz, and you’re in your ancient SUV that sounds like a beast.
“Night-night, intern.” He shoots you two fingers, sliding into his fancy car with blacked out windows. You roll your eyes, putting your car in gear.
What a day.
Part Two
#doctor gojo#doctor satoru#doctor au#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru smut#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#current wip#work in progress#story preview#jjk fic#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen
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𝐌𝐈𝐗-𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏 — Lando Norris⁴
summary: After landing in Miami for his race, Lando carelessly places his bag next to an identical one as he rushes to the bathroom. And in a hurry, you mistakenly grab his bag, thinking it's yours. And during the next five days in Miami, everything took an unexpected turn, escalating into something far bigger than either of you had anticipated.
˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷ lando norris x female! reader 🔸
Part 2
Previous Part
— "So wait, the guy from the airport is staying at our hotel?" Lhea's eyes widened as she leaned closer, her excitement evident as she listened to your story. "Did you get his name?" she asked eagerly. You nodded, grinning. "His name is Lando Norris, I think," you replied, watching as Lhea quickly pulled out her phone to investigate. As she typed, you leaned in to peek at her screen, only to find Lando's Instagram account. "Lhea!" you exclaimed in surprise.
She glanced at you with a smirk. "What? I just want to make sure he's safe for you, and single," she teased, prompting a playful shove from you. "We only met once–" you began, but Lhea interrupted with a finger to your lips. "Twice, actually," she corrected with a grin. Before Lhea could say anything else, the taxi pulled up to your destination. "We're here," announced the driver, and you quickly paid before exiting the car.
Lhea eagerly showed you her phone. "You need to see this," she urged. "F1? Like the fast cars?" you exclaimed. Lhea nodded enthusiastically. "And there's a race today, tomorrow, and on Sunday," she informed you as you walked, her attention divided between her phone and the surroundings.
"Let's discuss this more at Liv's place, okay?" you suggested, slightly concerned about Lhea's distracted walking. She nodded in agreement, turning off her phone and tucking it away. "You're right, we can't leave Olivia out of the conversation," she acknowledged, finally focusing on the path ahead.
[Texts]
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lhea_theitgirl
Miami, Florida
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lhea_theitgirl reunited at last 🎉 . . . more
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ynusername took you a while to get here
lhea_theitgirl xoxo
livduh tea time 🍵
lhea_theitgirl yknow it girl 😘
ynusername whoop whoop 😋
user1 lovely 😍
user2 trios >>
user3 full fit?
[Irl]
Olivia warmly welcomed you and Lhea into her apartment, which looked much the same as your last visit, albeit with a few new additions– mainly, an abundance of cat-related items. You and Lhea settled your bags on the couch as Liv disappeared into her room briefly. "I'm raiding your fridge!" you called out from the kitchen, already opening the refrigerator door in search of a drink. "Go ahead," Liv replied casually, emerging from her room with a ginger cat nestled in her arms.
Instantly drawn to the feline, you and Lhea approached Liv, cooing at the cat, who seemed less than thrilled with the attention. "Why so grumpy?" you cooed, cautiously petting his head as he attempted to bat your hand away. "He's not a fan of meeting new people," Liv explained with a grin. "But look at those adorable white socks!"
Clearly, the three of you shared a love for cats. "Anyways, let's get to the point, shall we? We have somewhere to be in a few hours," Liv said, glancing at her watch. You and Lhea didn't press for details and followed Liv outside to her backyard, where a table and chairs were set up.
Seated comfortably, Liv placed Bib on her lap and turned to you and Lhea. "So, spill. What's the story?" Lhea wore a wide grin as the two of you sat across from her. "Let's start from the beginning, when YN found who had her bag and whose bag she mistakenly took," she began, earning a chuckle from you. "Well, that same person happens to be staying at our hotel. And when I looked him up on Instagram, turns out he's some kind of celebrity–" Lhea's explanation was cut off by Liv's question. "How did you find his Instagram?" she asked, to which Lhea replied, "He introduced himself to YN. Anyway, turns out he's actually an F1 driver."
"No way. Oh my god, talk about coincidence or fate," you and Lhea exchanged confused glances as Liv continued, "Remember when I mentioned we were going to this big event because my brother and his friends couldn't make it?" Lhea grasped your arm as if she had some sort of revelation, while you remained confused. "I can't believe it..." Liv shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. "We're going to watch the race today!" Both Lhea and Liv squealed with excitement, while you sat there, utterly baffled by what was happening.
Glancing at her watch, Liv rose to her feet. "Time to go, let's go!" she exclaimed, prompting you and Lhea to follow suit, still trying to process the whirlwind of events.
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ynusername
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ynusername idk how we got here. anyway, go Ferrari? . . . more
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lhea_theitgirl girl, we're here for McLaren
ynusername I retract my earlier statement, let's go McLaren
livduh unbelievable 😂
user4 you're an F1 fan??
ynusername no, lol. just had an opportunity to attend the race for today
user5 one day
user6 Forza Ferrari ❤️
[Twitter]
Part 3 — Masterlist
A/N : Part two, whoop whoop. Idky but I feel this part is such a mess. lmao, let me know what you think :)
tagged: @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @barcelonaloverf1life
If you want to be tagged for this series, just let me know in the comments.
#fanfic writer#fanfics#fanfiction writer#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 rpf#f1 x reader#mclaren f1#f1 mclaren#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fandom#f1 fic#f1 smau#smau#f1 social media au#lando norris social media au#social media au#mclaren formula 1#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n
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Do you know the little fishes? (Charles Leclerc)
Charles' attention is drawn to the way you're invested in your home country's football qualifying game
Note: english is not my first language. I love me some football and I sort of channelled my energy from the last game we lost too! On the side, if you haven't already, you can read this one here where it goes well for the reader's team!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
Charles didn't mind watching the football despite Monaco not having their own national team. He often supported the country the people watching the game with him were supporting or the best nations throughout history in which he recognised the biggest legends of the sport.
However, when he met you, the perspective shifted, especially for your national team. No matter where you were in the world, you would get up at an ungodly hour to watch the football, kissing Charles' forehead and tucking the sheets back in as you moved to another part of the room, sometimes the living room part of the room was that big, your tablet in hand as you watched the game, trying your best to keep quiet as you knew your boyfriend needed his sleep.
"Amour, at what time is the game today?", Charles asked as he poured himself some water from the glass bottle. Because it was a night race, he didn't have to go to the paddock until after lunch, and since you were on the other side of the world, the football game was on at breakfast time.
"It's in thirty minutes", you smiled, "do you mind it if we have breaking the room instead of downstairs? Or you can go downstairs while I watch the football, I have some snacks from the plane", you quickly reassured.
Charles smiled, grabbing his phone and tapping in the hotel app, "like I'd let you watch the game on your own", he shook his head, "I know how important it is to you", he kissed your forehead, sitting next to you as you watched the players warm up on the TV, kissing the top of your head, "are you thinking eggs or something sweeter?".
"He's not playing?", Charles questioned as they recorded the players on the bench, "no, he picked up an injury in training, I'm not sure how we're going to do today", you mumbled, "but the guy that's going in his place is very good, he's a bit young but everyone says he's a prodigy", you attempted to lift your own spirits.
The breakfast arrived a little after the first kick, Charles getting it from the door and making sure to display it on the table in front of you without blocking your view, having been once hit with a pillow when he walked in front of the screen just as your team did the last penalty shoot out for the final round of qualifiers.
"Here's your latte, gorgeous", he said when the game was a little quieter, earning him a kiss on his cheek from you, "thank you, they're playing really well", you groaned as the other team kept approaching the goal.
It only took the opposing team a few minutes to score the first goal, the fans recorded on the stands erupting in cheer as you crossed your arms over your chest, straightening up your back and looking at the replay of the goal, seeing no issue and slumping your shoulders, "it's a good goal", you mumbled.
"Like you always say, there's still a lot of game to play, amour", Charles added as your eyes followed the ball, feeling his hand back on your thigh and squeezing it.
"C'mon, you can do better than that, I know you can!", you groaned as another ball hit the bar.
Rubbing your forehead in circles, you sighed as your team scored just before half-time, "this isn't going anywhere! Our defense is like a large fishing net, everyone can get through and skip throughout them! They need to be those fishing nets that they use to get the little fishes! Do you know the little fishes, Charles?", you showed him your fingers almost pinched together, "the holes in the fishing net are so so so tiny that no fish can escape!", you spoke passionately, getting up to use the bathroom quickly.
"They're all playing really well", you said as you noticed the players going back in the pitch, doing all sorts of exercises, "they're just trying to go from the wings and it's so much clearer on the middle section", you reasoned as Charles nodded, "maybe the coach told them in the dressing room, they all look like they've had their behind handed to them on a platter", Charles chuckled, "they deserve it", you smiled, resting your back against his chest.
"Now the referee? I mean, c'mon!", you grunted, seeing the man in the pink t-shirt run to the screen and analyse the footage, "Oh, it looks like it's a penalty", you admitted despite not loving the fact, "maybe he won't see it", you shrugged innocently.
"I'm sure they'll notice it, chérie", Charles offered, not reading into your sarcasm before you looked up at him, "a girl can dream, handsome, a girl can dream".
The second part kept growing in tension, the other team scoring twice in the space of five minutes after scoring the penalty, "I can't watch this anymore", you sighed, eyes focused on the screen as they were waiting to validate a goal, the offside lines not clear enough on the moment and requiring further analysis.
"It's impressive how much they can get to know with technologies these days", Charles chirped in, hoping to distract you enough to relax against his embrace, "they also waste a lot of time though. I timed the game a couple of months ago and they only had the ball rolling for a little over an hour in total. Imagine if you had to do fifteen laps under a safety car", you tried the comparison.
Luckily, the goal was indeed offside, but your team still couldn't manage to out the ball in the opponent's net.
"Is it bad if I say that we're being robbed even though the other team is playing better?", you squinted, seeing the referee had given an extra time of three minutes, the players just making sure the ball never left the middle of the pitch, trying to leave the score unaltered.
"It was a well disputed match still, they didn't have luck on their side", Charles said, rubbing your arm gently and kissing the side of your head as you waited to the final whistle.
When you got to the track, Carlos was the first one to come and talk to you, "so, Y/N, that face can only mean you've watched the football", he teased.
The frown was a little evident as soon as you didn't feel the public eye on you, knowing they would be quick to judge, "they did their best, and their best was a little bit shit today", you shrugged your shoulders, "sometimes it's like this", you quoted your boyfriend, taking comfort in his words you usually hated when they left his mouth.
"She was a great supporter though, she got up early, she had the stripes of paint on her cheeks, her scarf and her t-shirt", Charles noted, "she was the most dedicated, cheerful and the best supporter, it's a shame they didn't feel it!".
"Now I'm going to support Ferrari, and you boys better not disappoint me", you snickered, kissing Charles' lips one last time before they headed off to their meeting.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff
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Exhausted parents kiss, after the reader and character of your choosing are tired after a long day of Christmas with their hectic children lol
i'm gonna do this one with ron weasley because i can't get that boy out of my head
warnings: not proofread, pregnant!reader
❀ masterlist ❀
"are you sure you want to have another?" ron asked after he walked into the bedroom, leaned against the shut door, and let out a tiresome sigh.
you, standing by the bed where you were pulling back the blankets to get in, looked down at the baby bump you were sporting before looking back up at ron. "i think it may be a tad bit too late for you to be asking me that," you tell him, earning a grin from the man you loved most. "and anyways, how else are we supposed to live up to the weasley name if not by having hundreds of kids?"
"we aren't even close to mum yet," ron spoke as he strode over to you slowly, his hands coming up to the swell of your stomach. "this one here is number three. we're on our percy. we still have four more to go if we even want to truly compete with the weasley name."
"oh, i don't know about that," you told him with a chuckle while sitting down on your side of the bed. "and it wasn't really our kids that made today so exhausting. it was your brother."
"which one?" ron questioned teasingly, rounding the bed to lie down beside you. you both knew very clearly which of his brothers wound your kids up which tired you two out. "yeah, freddie and george make quite the pair."
you rolled your eyes and reached over to turn out the lamp near you, casting darkness over the room. scooting closer to ron, you cuddled into his side where he had his arm stretched out for you. "i didn't realize when we named him after fred that he would turn out exactly like him. i sympathize with your mother more and more every day and we only have two kids, three in a few months. i have no idea how she did it."
ron chuckled, squeezing his arm tighter around you for a second. "and he's only three and a half years old. we aren't even in the thick of it yet. you remember how the twins were in school. wait until freddie's that age. then, you will really see how much he's like fred."
"no," you whined, burying your face in ron's shirt, "i don't want to think about my first baby going to school already."
his chest vibrated with light laughter before a yawn took him over. "come here," he spoke through the yawn, causing you to lift your head up. you knew exactly what he was seeking as you moved closer to him, more specifically to his lips. tiredly, you both leaned in and pressed your lips to one another's. after the kiss, only seconds passed before you both fell asleep, the effects of the long christmas day finally taking over you and ron.
remember to support writers & reblog :)
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#ron weasley#ron weasley x reader#ron weasley blurbs#blurbs#marjorie189#❀ marjorie ❀#winter wonderland sleepover ✧*:・゚
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afterglow– pt 9 [ T.A.A ]
pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.
genre(s): friends to lovers, fluff, should definitely add the slowburn tag
[w.c: 6.6k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]
notes: buckle up, because this one is one hell of a ride
"does this christmas tree look weird?"
clara looked up at you from the shopping cart, her nose scrunched at the fact that you were standing next to the tree in all sorts of positions— your excuse being that it needed to match your aesthetic as well as your new apartment's.
yes, the time for the big move has finally arrived 2 weeks before christmas. all your boxes had been moved over through the course of you packing them, and today was the day that you and clara got to work.
"I think you look weird," she shot back, earning a fake laugh that made her smile but you took her advice and carried on looking until you opted for the original.
the two of you continued to roam around ikea like two lost puppies while vlogging the entire experience for your youtube channel. truth be told, it was the most relaxing experience that you'd both had in weeks.
not only was the move taking up more time than you'd originally thought, but the number of press conferences, sponsor shoots, and preparation for the team's channel content was burying you alive. you weren't complaining obviously because this was your job.
but sleep had become a foreign concept once more.
"jamie, we have an interview with virgil set up for wednesday, we need you on that."
"are all the reporters in the press conference room? make sure that harvey doesn't say anything too bad this time around please. we can't have a repeat of last time."
"are the graphics for sunday's match ready?"
"ms carter we're set to film in the next 20 minutes, are you miced up?"
"jamie!" you were snapped back by clara yelling your name, loud enough that a few heads turned to look your way. you perked up with a hum and she nudged you on with a skeptical look.
she continued to push the shopping cart, with you walking beside her. "sorry my mind is flooding with--"
"--thoughts of a certain someone?" she eagerly interjected but you were quick to shut her down with a disapproving look.
you shook your head. "work clara. I'm thinking about work."
your friend wasn't too pleased with your answer though and brushed it off with a sceptical hum but you didn't bother to try and defend yourself. there was no reason to anyway, you'd be fighting an invisible war.
your little ikea trip came to an end after another hour, and you were left with 3 shopping carts and the question of how you were going to fit all this in your car. you both stared blankly at all the shopping bags on the floor, not a thought behind your eyes.
"why don't we just come back for the bags later?"
clara turned to look at you, a hiccup in her voice as she agreed with you until it hit her. "wait are we allowed to do that? what if they steal our things?"
the normal thing to do in this situation would be to call for help, perhaps your dad for some extra support but nope. not here and not when you two were together. all basic logic flew out the window the second you stepped anywhere near clara, and today was no different.
with your hands rested on your hips you had a minute to think before snapping your fingers. "we'll just label the bags and give them to the cashier duh."
this was going to be a long day.
spamjam._. added to their story
trentarnold66 replied to your story
trentarnold66 are we moving already??
spamjam._. we?? 😀
trentarnold66 you know what I mean, don't even.
spamjam._. 😭😭 yes I'll be in by today. why? were you hoping for a house warming party?
trentarnold66 oh definitely not. I'm sure your 3 friends wouldn't pitch anyway
I'm just upset that I don't have your address anymore. no more surprise visits ig 😓
spamjam._. I'm flattered that you think I have 3 friends 🤭 and yes I will be locking my door to stop those surprise visits
trentarnold66 it's okay. I'll just ask clara because she's super nice
spamjam._. I will end your bloodline bro don't you dareee
speak of the devil, she's calling me to come and help her. you're a distraction!! I have unpacking to do😭😭
trentarnold66 don't blame me for your problems and get back to packing
spamjam._. ??? jump [liked by trentarnold66]
"oh my god I think we're done."
you huffed out in exhaustion at clara's question, stood in the living room after you had just fluffed up the last of your throw pillows.
you didn't know how to answer, not knowing if that really was all the decoration done because there might just be one more box hiding somewhere, but your doubt quickly vanished into relief. you nodded slightly in your friend's direction with a smile of disbelief.
you swear that tears had formed in her eyes, and you felt the same. utterly exhausted and relieved. "we're done!!"
clara didn't waste a second and pulled you into an excited embrace that had you jumping up and down and squealing until you flopped down onto the sofa to finally take in the finished product of your first official apartment.
just the feeling of being in a place that you could call your own made your stomach jump. the interior design, the aesthetic— it was all so you. it was cosy and didn't feel the slightest bit empty, the walls littered with artwork, empty spaces decorated with plants, and your furniture being the cherry on top.
it felt like home.
after a few minutes of resting, you checked the time to see that it was well past midnight and even though it was friday, both you and clara had to head into the office the following day for a quick meeting and finalisation for sunday's match against manchester united.
by the time that you were all done showering and getting your things in order, you huddled yourself next to clara on the sofa in front of the t.v. the second you put off the big lights for your lamps, an indescribable feeling settled on your chest an--
"do it," clara said suddenly, drawing your attention away from the t.v.
your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not knowing what she was talking about. your friend sighed heavily and muttered something under her breath before leaning over and grabbing hold of your phone.
she waved it in front of your face with a lopsided smile. "shoot. your. shot "
"excuse me? who am I shooting exactly?"
your answer didn't amuse her by the looks of it but you didn't worry because you were genuinely confused.
clara leant in a bit closer, "don't play dumb with me. I know what you are. I saw those messages."
it took a moment for you to finally grasp what she was saying and an elongated "ohhhh" left your lips. she mimicked your answer teasingly and shoved your phone back into your palm with a knowing look.
you tried your best to explain that those messaged were just simple fun and jokes but clara insisted that it was way more than that.
"are you reading these texts jamie?? he's flirting with you!!"
you paused to look her up and down for a moment. "are you mental?" you deadpanned.
clara looked as if she was about to blow a fuse, muttering something to herself while you sat with your lips slightly parted in confusion. funny enough this wasn't this first time that she was acting this strange, it had been every few days for the past two weeks.
you didn't understand why it was such a big issue. you and trent were getting slightly closer sure, but clara was pushing it. have you told her about your almost non-existent feelings for him? of course, she was your closest friend.
but something was off with her. even at work when you'd be around them during training or busy with the p.r filming, clara would nudge you into his direction. something was up, and you needed it out.
"clara," you started firmly. "what do you know?"
something flashed on her face for a split second and she averted her gaze to the t.v. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just saying that--"
she truly was a horrible liar.
"you're doing a horrible job at covering this up, don't just sit there and act confused." your eyebrows narrowed at her silence, a meak look on her eyes. "out with it then."
she sighed and ran a hand through her hair in frustration, you could even see a tint of red at the tips of her ears. clara was stubborn, and you were growing impatient.
she looked at you for a moment before relaxing her shoulders. "life isn't some fairy tale you know?"
what the hell is this girl talking about?
"like--" she looked up at the ceiling in thought. "--we can't expect the universe to sense our romantic feelings and magically play things in our favour."
you blinked at her a few times. "bro what the hell are you saying??"
faster than you could register, clara grabbed you by the shoulders with a look of determination in your eyes. "I'm saying make a move because no one is going to make it for you! this isn't some feet kicking, giggly rom com!"
clara's words were like a slap to the face, leaving you just as stunned. you didn't know how to respond to her, only being able to part your lips with no words falling from them.
your cellphone that was in her hand was now pressed tighly against your chest, with clara looking at you with gentle encouragement even though her words were far from it.
"okay, friends to lovers I guess." she raised her eyebrows slightly. "so about how you work on the lovers part instead of taking three steps back whenever you take one forward, you fucking coward!"
christmas had passed and it was a week into the new year. what better way to start the new year than to play arsenal in the fa cup third round? the year started off well at least, with the 4-2 win against newcastle.
you were fully settled into your new apartment, as well as your sister in london. the only thing bugging you, was clara being the equivalent of a mosquito— or a better yet, a parasite that kept reminding you of "the deal".
the deal being you asking trent on one friendly date and she'll leave you alone, and never mention anything remotely close to your love life again. you said yes as a way to get her out of your hair, but instead the exact opposite happened.
so you were planning on swallowing whatever pride you had and ask him to come over to your apartment just to chill. okay, that's definitely not what you were going to say, because that just sounded pathetic and extremely embarrassing.
just the thought alone, made you cringe.
the team arrived at the emirates stadium at 4 p.m that sarurday afternoon. the weather was a bit warmer than it had been the past few weeks, and you were quite excited for the match to be honest. you had a hunch today, or maybe you were just hungry.
you followed the camera crew out to the pitch and helped them set up before doing the necessary media procedure (making your promotional tiktoks). the first hour for setting up was always fun for you, it was quieter but to be left alone on the pitch was always something.
at some point, you even tried to teach clara how to do some warm-up drills. it would have her clapping her hands in excitement and saying, "I remember that from training."
the two of you messed around with the camera crew for a bit and documented your first trip to the emirates stadium. it was insane to think that you'd only had this job for 4 months, the most eventful yet peaceful months ever to be honest.
"why does their grass look greener than ours?" clara asked in distaste as she looked down at the ground, tapping her foot lightly.
you joined her and averted your gaze to the "greener" grass and shook your head. "It's not." you waved your hands in the air. "the air is different here or something, so it seems greener."
clara hummed in agreement, tapping her finger to her temple. "mind games. london is crazy dude."
you laughed at her comment, until the realisation began to seep in ever so slowly. "london." you muttered under your breath and put your hands on your head, causing clara to grow concerned. "shit, we're in london."
your friend gave you a look that screamed, "well no duh", but you were in fight or flight mode, saying that you needed to leave immediately which was so stupid.
"I can't be here. wait, no I'm just being dramatic. but what if I'm not?? what if I'm not being dramatic clara???"
she was dumbfounded at your sudden mood shift and nonsensical rambling, and was about to try and get any sort of coherent information but you were interrupted by a staff member calling your name since the dressing room was ready for a few more clips.
you didn't spare clara another glance and tried your best to calm yourself down as you entered the dressing room, debating with yourself on whether or not you were going insane. it took a bit but you managed to collect your thoughts and rethink the situation.
I'm just being dramatic.
you took one last breath and turned to the door, only to be met with a very confused harvey and cody. the two just stared a you for a moment, and you weren't quite sure why since it was normal for you to be in the dressing room before a game.
"I told you," harvey shook his head and looked at cody. "she's straight up talking to herself right now."
"I was what?" you asked quickly with widened eyes and cody was the one to answer this time.
"you were chanting 'I'm not being dramatic' over and over." there wasn't a hint of uncertainty in his tone which made you feel slightly embarrassed, only for mo to walk from behind them and ask what the hold up was since they were standing in the doorway.
harvey took a few cautious steps towards you. "jamie's either a witch or mentally ill." he mocked a gasp with his hand in front of his mouth. "or maybe she's a mentally ill witch."
you lunged towards him in retaliation but he managed to slither his way through the rest of the boys who were still coming in, their looks of confusion not going unnoticed. he played it safe and hid behind ibou , who preferred not to play mediator and gave him a slap on the back of his head, causing him to yell out in pain.
he tsked at the younger boy. "and you wonder why she has it out for you"
just as you put your phone back into your pocket, a light knock echoed through the now-filled room. in the doorway, stood clara who was there to fetch you for the last staff debrief. you gave harvey one last look up and down before bidding your goodbye to the rest of the team.
you joined clara as she strolled through the corridors, no haste in her step at all for some reason. she didn't say much either which worried you, so you took the initiative to ask her what was up but she didn't answer.
instead, her eyes perked up and you turned to look at what caught her attention, only to see trent walking in with his headphones on and his attention glued to his phone. the desperate look you gave clara didn't suffice, and the two of you ended up having a small whispered argument.
you shook your head vigorously as she gestured to trent who was still walking in your direction to get to the dressing room. all you had to do was walk past him without drawing attention to yourself, and you promised clara that you'd ask him after the match but she was stubborn and insisted on it happening that very moment.
"jamie I'm sorry, I love you I promise."
before you could object, she shoved you a little harsher than expected and instead of lightly nudging trent on the side like she thought you would, you ended up bumping into him in a full collision.
luckily nothing fell out of his hands, seeing as he was too startled and perhaps clara thought that he would catch you by the waist just in time— but this wasn't some fairytale! instead, he held onto his belongings tighter and watched in shock as you hit the wall, shoulder first.
"are you okay?" trent lowered his headphones and turned his attention to you. you couldn't even bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you had to suck it up despite the amount of pain you were in.
you muffled a painful hum in response and waved his concern off. "yeah, sorry I was just--" you turned to look at where clara previously was but she was gone. "--that bitch," you muttered through a gritted smile, thinking of the ways that you were going to make her life hell later on.
"excuse me?" trent asked, not sure if you were talking to him which caused the red on your face to deepen.
"nothing," you laughed awkwardly and stood up properly, your arms folded over your chest. "I just wanted to say hi... I guess."
he accounted for the uncertainty in your answer but didn't bring it up, only feining a lopsided smile. "well that was quite the entrance, super dramatic."
you faked a laugh at his joke and blinked a few times. "yeah, you know me and being dramatic. you can't have one without the other." your tongue poked the side of your cheek at the irony of your answer.
a moment of silence enveloped the two of you again as the awkward encounter came to an end because trent needed to get to the dressing room. you moved to the side and let him past, internally battling with yourself for wasting the opportunity but you called him back before he was too far off.
trent looked down at you, the shimmer in his eyes having you frozen in spot for a moment. "I wanted to know if you were..." you had no idea how you were supposed to ask him at all, you didn't think that practice was needed.
"like tomorrow since we have the day off, would you..."
this was pathetic. you were pathetic, fumbling over your words for something this stupid. it was so unlike you to be this nervous, which made it even more awkward.
trent gave you another moment before his lips tugged up into a smile. "yes I would."
you swallowed the lump in your throat. "you don't even know what I was going to say."
he simply shrugged his shoulders. "whatever you want, I'm down for. and as much as I'd love to continue this little back and forth, I really need to go. but I'll see you later okay?"
you nodded. all you could do was nod as you watched him walk away with the same amused smile on his lips when all you wanted to do was bury yourself alive. never again, this was never going to happen again. you wouldn't allow it.
you ran your fingers through your hair in an attempt to cool down your rising temperature. you were blushing for no reason at all. with your back against the wall, you took a few deep breaths only to feel a nudge on your shoulder. you didn't bother opening your eyes, because if you did then all hell would break loose.
you could hear clara smiling from beside you as she leant in and whispered teasingly. "he's down for whatever you want," she giggled. "what do you want jamie?"
"I want you dead."
it was about 10 minutes before kick-off and both teams were on the pitch for their warm-ups, while the supporters settled in their seats and so far, everything was running as per normal.
you were doing your regular rounds with your camera around your neck, as well as your phone in hand to get some videos of the boys for extra content. you even got the opportunity to talk to a few of the arsenal players as well.
they were all extremely nice, asking about how you were finding your job so far and whatnot. it was a sweet interaction that you didn't expect from them, especially since this was a crucial match.
"you must be getting so cold right now," ali chuckled as he took a spot beside you on the pitch, leaning over to look at the pictures you were going through on the camera.
you scoffed. "being cold is a mindset, I'm perfectly fine right now."
your answer prompted a laugh from the older man who wasn't the slightest bit convinced. "I can see your goosebumps."
"you're delusional."
finally it was time for kick off, and you took your respective seat next to clara with the rest of the staff and huddled into your hoodie with your hands in your pocket. for the first 10 minutes of the first half, you couldn't help but feel that you were being watched.
normally you'd brush the feeling off, but today it felt different. so eventually you took the liberty of turning around and scouting the crowd to see if you could notice anyone, and just as you were about to give up someone in the crowd caught your eye.
your stomach dropped to the floor with a single moment of eye contact. it felt as if the world around you had stopped, the only thing catching your eye being the boy looking over your shoulder.
he looked no different than when you last saw him, just a bit more mature. as usual, he was sporting his arsenal jersey and scarf— the same jersey and scarf that you scolded him for wearing around you. the look in his eyes was unreadable, but his expression must've been just as shocked as yours.
you shifted your gaze to the person cuddled to his side, and to no surprise, there stood your ex-best friend. in the flesh, just as you started to move on the universe decided to give you the biggest reminder of your departure from london.
michael and kelly— your ex-boyfriend and your ex-best friend.
you couldn't break eye contact no matter how hard you tried and clara who wanted to comment on something about the match was victim to your daze. with her eyebrows furrowed she followed your gaze, her jaw dropping instantly.
something crept up your spine, and unfamiliar feeling that you couldn't shake off while trying to focus on the match in front of you.
"I wish I was a mentally ill witch right now."
#cherrei writes#afterglow trent alexander arnold#footballer imagine#liverpool fc#footballer x reader#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold fluff#trent alexander arnold#euros 2024#football imagine#liverpoolfc x reader#liverpoolfc#england nt
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ANNOUNCING THE 2023 F1BLR CREATOR'S FESTIVAL!
here to encourage and support the people who keep f1blr running!!
every week of august, we have challenges available for creators of all technical proficiencies. these challenges include weekly prompts, wildcard events (that we’ll be announcing later), and more!
we’re also introducing a fun rewards system! for every festival creation tagged #f1blrcreatorsfest23 by a registered participant, we will be giving out gold stars! earn enough gold stars over the course of the month from our various events, and you can get yourself a cute superlicense and qualify for prize draws! (more on this below the cut.)
you’re welcome to participate in the festival without registering—we will love and shower praise on your creations either way <3 but gold stars and other prizes such as gift cards will only be given to registered users.
finally, we encourage you to join our discord server and meet the festival community!
under the cut, you’ll find more details, like what exactly our festival is, who can participate, etc. for quick links, please see below:
[ OFFICIAL EVENT CALENDAR ] [ SUPERLICENSE PROGRAM REGISTRATION ] [ DISCORD SERVER ]
WHAT IS THE F1BLR CREATOR’S FEST?
f1blr creator’s fest is a month-long festival event meant to support, encourage, and highlight the work of visual creatives on formula 1 tumblr. from gifs of memorable moments to beautiful photo edits, the f1blr creators community keeps the fandom running! with the state of socmed today, the value of these creations has been diminished to “content.” but creatives in this community are very much artists! we hope to start a dialogue this month about the importance of supporting creators on f1blr, to the end that we can revive a once-vibrant community of visual creatives and encourage an environment where people feel inspired and safe to explore their art.
WHO CAN PARTICIPATE?
all creators are welcome to take part to whatever extent they’d like! that said, the themes and wildcard events were made with visual creation in mind, such as gifmaking, graphics art, photo editing, photo manipulations, graphic design and video editing.
WHAT ARE WILDCARD EVENTS?
they’re additional events we’ve got planned for the community! more info on this will be announced at the start of the festival.
WHAT’S THE TEA ON SUPERLICENSES?
similar to the real program for drivers, we will award superlicenses to creators who accumulate a minimum of 15 points (in our case, gold stars). these superlicenses are a fun, bragging rights kind of thing–nothing serious! if you earn a superlicense, you’ll receive a digital certificate at the end of the festival, with the option to make it physical; festival organizers have committed to mailing out gold star stickers and nice, official-looking certificates! as well (and if possible), if you’d like a print(s) of one of your edits, that can be included too.
LOTTERIES / PRIZE DRAWS??
yep, we're dropping real cash money on this! prizes won't be Huge, $10 online gift cards and the like, enough for an iced coffee from starbucks. but hopefully they provide a little bit more of an incentive to participate, and allow for us to give back to the community at large!
I HAVE MORE QUESTIONS!
and we have answers! please don’t hesitate to contact us through our ask box :)
thanks, and looking forward to seeing you in a couple weeks! — f1blr creator’s fest organizers ❤️
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some time away (part two)
pairing: ao'nung x omaticayan!reader
summary: you had been doing well with your metkayinan training, you and your found family mastering the "way of water." it was a warm night, and you decided to take your ilu out for a ride.
word count: 2.5k.. wow
warnings: a wee bit of angst, a fight
today was one of your breathing lessons. you, tsireya, ao'nung, roxto, kiri, lo'ak, and neteyam sat in a circle, as tsireya began the process. you, lo'ak, and neteyam were still winded from the ilu riding earlier. you had no clue how kiri was able to keep herself balanced. the riding wasn't the hard part either way, it was the breath holding. 'guess that's why we're doing this lesson,' you thought.
"breathe in," tsireya said as the small circle begun to breathe in through their mouths. roxto would pull up his hands every time he breathed to show the gesture, so subconsciously, you and neteyam had begun to do it too.
"imagine flickering a flame," she said as the group exhaled. "you must slow your heartbeat." roxto raised his hands once again, and there went our breath. tsireya reached over to lo'ak, placing one hand on his chest, and another on his lower abdomen. "breathe in," she said, as lo'ak inhaled once more.
you stifled your laughter as you watched his tail struggling to keep composure behind him. ao'nung scoffed at lo'ak's crush on his sister.
"breathe from down here," tsireya continued. she pressed on his stomach a little, gesturing to his diaphragm. he continued to breathe. "breathe out slowly." he quickly exhaled, unable to focus.
"lo'ak, your heartbeat is fast."
"s-sorry."
it took everything in you, roxto, and neteyam to not cackle at the sight. kiri rolled her eyes and shoved you a bit at the mockery of lo'ak. "what?" you mouthed, grinning.
"try to focus," tsireya said, earning a quick nod from him. "breathe in, and breathe out." neteyam and roxto continued to snicker at the sight. ao'nung quickly stopped this.
"are the rest of you even breathing? or are you just watching lo'ak stare at tsireya with hearts in his eyes?" he interjected, looking at the omaticayan of the circle. tsireya quickly flushed and took her hands off of lo'ak. he looked up, embarrassed, but glaring at ao'nung at the same time.
"you," ao'nung said, pointing to kiri. "breathe."
kiri looked at him for a moment, before rolling her eyes and beginning to breathe. "the way of water has no beginning and no end," he spoke, turning to look at neteyam and you. "come on, start breathing too."
you huffed before beginning to breathe with kiri. "the sea is around you, and in you." tsireya began to join in with the speech, roxto looking at the two before realizing he had to join in as well.
"the sea is your home, before your birth, and after your death."
breathe.
"our hearts beat in the womb of the world. our breath burns in the shadows of the deep."
breathe.
"the sea gives, and the sea takes. water connects all things."
breathe.
"life to death. darkness to light."
breathe.
it was silent for a moment after that, the aura of the circle surprisingly calm. you sighed as everyone else begun to breathe regularly. ao'nung stood up.
"now let's test that breathing in the water."
you weren't the biggest fan of swimming with the ilu, but you quickly began to enjoy it as you got good enough to go deeper, and farther without supervision. the group dove into the water with their ilus' after a quick moment of yipping for them. your favorite ilu training game was tag, where one of the metkayina would tag an omaticaya to challenge them to chase the faster kids. you were good enough to catch up to roxto, but that was about it. at least you were faster than the sullys.
it had been a moment underwater of teaching tsireya, ao'nung, and roxto how to play rock, paper, scissors, but eventually they decided that ao'nung was it.
the omaticayan split, you following neteyam, and lo'ak following kiri and tuk, to make it harder for ao'nung to tag all of them at once. he went after you, your reaction time being a bit too slow when you heard he was it.
riding quick with your ilu, you heard ao'nungs laughter bubble up (literally) as he gave away his breath. quickly, he swam up, and dove right down to you. you made a sharp turn he couldn't see. looking around for a moment, he hissed and turned back for kiri.
kiri was agile, but she wasn't too quick. she was out. she hovered above with tsireya and roxto, treading until it was their turn to be it.
he took a moment to breathe, before going back under. he immediately saw neteyam, who came out to see if the game was over. he swam past, and quickly made a hand signal to a rock. suddenly, you and lo'ak came out and swam in circles to distract ao'nung, before splitting up.
he went straight, unsure who he was headed for. his ilu was going fast, he was sure he wasn't going to see anybody this way but it was a good way to scope the area. he looked to his left before his ilu squealed. he crashed right into you.
you tumbled off your ilu, your ilu having an appropriate reaction and swimming away. the force of the swimming sent you flying backwards, and you slammed your head into some coral. you sat on the ocean floor, clutching your head.
you winced at the feeling of your head, looking at your hand. you were bleeding. fast. you thought back to one of the earlier lessons.
"always watch your head. the coral is sharp, and unforgiving." there was more, but that's all you could think of before you blacked out.
hey
wake up
shit, what happened?
i dont know, my ilu went too fast and i crashed right into her
why would you do that?
it wasn't on purpose, genius.
well it sure looks like it was.
what, because i don't like you guys?
"of course, take us out one by one." lo'ak said. it was the first voice you recognized as you came to. your eyes fluttered as you heard tuk. "she's awake!" the closest voice to you quickly turned away to repeat herself. "she's awake!"
"tuk?" you said, looking at her.
"man, you looked sick. and not in the good sick like dad says." you smiled at her before wincing. your head was still sore.
tsireya and lo'ak rushed to your side to help you up.
"are you okay?" tsireya said, looking at you with worry.
"yeah.. fine." you said, trying to stand yourself up. ao'nung walked over as you balanced yourself. as you used tsireya for support, you gently took her off of you and mumbled a "i got it."
ao'nung stood there, staring at you for a moment. "i'm sorry i crashed into you." he said under his breath.
"wow, reef boy apologizing? never thought i'd see the day." you looked up at him before stumbling.
"falling for me already?" he said, grinning, as you turned away from him.
roxto walked you to your room as you laid down for a bit, and took a nap. all of a sudden, you woke up to shouting and screaming nearby. you sat up, and looked outside the netting to see the familiar blue and teal blurs.
here we go again.
you got up and ran over there. "hey! stop it!" you yelled to lo'ak, pulling on ao'nungs ear. suddenly, he got smacked across the face with.. roxto's tail? what the fuck? you shoved roxto out the way before pulling lo'ak out of ao'nung's grasp.
"enough!" you shouted. "what is wrong with you two? can't get along for shit."
"yeah," ao'nung said between breaths. "get your four-fingered freak sister to help you. you're all freaks."
you didn't even bother to correct him. you and lo'ak weren't related, but it still hurt. four fingered freak? you stared at ao'nung, expression blank. suddenly, neteyam charged in. "hey. back off."
"aww, big brother come to save the day?-" one of ao'nungs goons chimed in before he stopped him. you used this chance to get jake. you ran out into their room.
"firefly, what's wrong?"
"it's lo'ak. ao'nung just like beat his ass-"
"where?"
"down there." you pointed to the beach, and he ran out. you didn't want to follow him, you didn't want to hear the things he would say. you walked to the opposite end of the beach, and sat on some rocks.
it was sunset now, eclipse was coming. your head was filled with everything and nothing at the same time. living with the metkayinan was fun, but it wasn't what you were used to. you missed home, even if your definition of it isn't the exact same as the sully's. dangling your legs of the netting, you looked at your hands.
"just another four-fingered freak." you heard ao'nung and roxto's voices echoing in your head.
you looked back out at the ocean for a minute before lowering yourself into the water, and yipping. your ilu squealed quickly, popping up from under the water. you positioned yourself and took off.
you weren't exactly sure where to go. you hadn't spoken to any of the sully's today after the fight, and you didn't know why. you couldn't say they don't know how you feel, when three of them are half-breeds. jake, lo'ak, and kiri, especially kiri, are probably the only ones who do know how you feel, and yet you couldn't believe that.
along the warm water, you found a large rock. you were taught by tsireya that some rocks were disguised to be caves, pockets of air underwater. you dove your ilu underwater and swam closer to the "rock," to see there was an opening. you got off your ilu and swam into the cave.
the hidden space was beautiful, bioluminescence mimicking the spots on your face as you reached up to touch the moss on the ceiling of the rock. it glowed under your touch as the cave, almost alive, reacted to your every movement. you smiled at your ilu, peeking its head up from under the small crevice you swam into.
"it's okay, i'll call for you when i want to go back. you can leave." you calmly said to the ilu, as it swam off. you turned your attention back to the cave, finding an indent you could perch yourself on. you lifted yourself up, and sat on the ledge, staring down at the water.
you leaned your head back and lost yourself in thought. you weren't really a freak, were you?
thoughts swarmed your head as your memories date back to sneaking inside the abandoned pods.
watching the old video logs your mother made with jake and grace.
looking at her and her five fingers.
looking at you and your five fingers.
why did she make you.. different?, you thought. your heart began to race as tears welled in your eyes. you weren't really the freaks that the metkayina called you, they just aren't very welcoming. right?
your thoughts were interrupted as you heard a splash and a quick gasp for breath. you flinched at the sudden noise and quickly wiped your tears. "ao'nung?" you spoke, staring at the boy.
"y/n?" he said, in the same tone as you. you rolled your eyes at his mockery.
"what are you doing here?"
"i come here all the time, what are you talking about?"
"oh, i didn't know. i just found this spot."
"sorry forest girl, it's taken."
you looked at him before pushing yourself off the ledge and beginning to swim out the crevice. before you could leave, he grabbed a nearby pebble and chucked it at your head. you turned back to him, ready to ask him what that was for, before he spoke.
"you don't have to leave." ao'nung said, gesturing back to where you were seated like it was a throne.
"why not? seems like you can't stand me and my four fingers." you stopped swimming and tread in place as he stared at you. something about his gaze was different. you were used to the piercing mockery he always gave you and lo'ak, but this time it was .. calmer.
"it's a cool spot, i'm sure it has room for two. and i'm sorry about what i said." he shrugged and pushed himself up on the ledge, sifting some moss and fish eggs out of the way and back into the water. you sat beside him. it was silent for a while, before he decided to speak again. "so, how's your ilu doing? i saw him on the way here. when's the last time you fed him?"
you paused for a minute, processing what he just said. ".... you feed them?"
".... y/n you can't be serious."
"i thought they fed themselves?"
"oh eywa, you're starving your ilu. come," he said, before diving in the water. you hesitated before following him, but did so anyways. you tapped him and quickly signed.
"what are we doing?"
"getting your poor ilu some fish." he digged in the small pouch he had and pulled out a dagger. "call your ilu and stay here," he signed. he swam away. you did as he said, although you weren't very sure about this.
after a moment, he returned with a fish, and tossed it to you. "feed him." you stared at the fish, then at your ilu. what if he bit you? you were scared, did you really have to? why-
"feed the damn ilu!"
you flinched at his rough tap and saw him sign that, before you quickly shoved the fish to the ilu. he squealed and ate it. you smiled at him. he gestured you to follow him to shore. you sat on your ilu above water, as he laughed at you.
"you were so scared, for what?"
you laughed with him. "i don't know, i-" you cut yourself of when you heard the familiar yipping. neytiri was looking for you. shit. was it past eclipse already?
"jake/dad's gonna kill me." the two of you said in unison. you looked at each other and grinned.
"race you to shore?" he said.
"you're on."
you lost bad btw
"where were you?" jake said, staring at.. ao'nung?
you were confused, until you saw neteyam charging up. "tell them what you did!" he shouted to him. he looked confused, until realization hit. he away in shame.
"i took lo'ak beyond the reefs."
"you what?" you interjected. you couldn't believe him, but after a moment it made sense. "is that why you kept me out on the water? so i wouldn't realize he was gone?"
"no, it wasn't that-" he could barely get it out before you got off your ilu and walked away. you thought you could make amends with ao'nung, after what he had said.
guess you were wrong.
#aonung x reader#ao’nung x reader#aonung x omaticayan!reader#ao'nung x omaticayan!reader#na'vi x reader#avatar the way of water#avatar
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Like A Pretty Boy: Gabe x Y/N Midi Series- PRT 1
Tagging: @icarus-star @kappasbbgirl @starry-eyed-wild-child @luzclarita57 @bonesgirl11 @444rockstargf blondiezluvbrowniez pretty-girl-blogg fallin444niya liquidsmoothdomme @rootin-tootin-pootin ethical-cain-vinnel l3viathan-sin666 crowfullofwoe @8klil avathewitc @spoilingthemilk @romanroyapoligist anakinskywalkerssgf zoloftsh4wty womenloverlmao berrymeringueposts elvira-aarseth agornotsworld
Y/n watches Gabe stretch as he comes out of the closet, clothes now changed, exhaustion clear on his face as he heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He had been working really hard on his documentary but Police Brutality isn't a very cheery topic. The reality of the injustices against people of color was growing worse every day and just looking over the statics would blow your mind.
He struggled with the heinous imagery that came with these cases and stories of innocent people being targeted in their own communities just to be suffocated, beaten or shot to death for merely existing.
"You look like you slept 10 minutes." Y/n walked into the bathroom and put his hands on Gabe's shoulders, feeling the tension from leaning over a laptop all night.
"Yeah...kind of hard to sleep peacefully when you're staring at murdered kids until 4AM." Gabe said with a mouthful of toothpaste. He spit into the sink and wiped at his mouth before letting out a groan from the feeling of the knot in his shoulder.
"I foresee many sleepless nights in your future babe." Y/n continued to massage his shoulders and he leaned his head back. The vibration of his cellphone on the counter made him sigh.
"Are we still avoiding your sister? You know she's bound to hunt you down eventually, right?" Y/n chuckled but Gabe let out a heavy sigh.
"She's going to ask me something stupid and I'm going to have to take the train all the way there just to sit with her and her half-wit husband listening to the lack of white people in her book club or some shit. I just...I can't deal with all that right now." Gabe pulled Y/n's hands from his shoulders and brought them around his body. Y/n hugged him from behind and kissed his shoulder.
"I know, I just hate that you're dreading your phone ringing." Y/n explained.
"Must be nice being an only child." Gabe joked turning around to hold Y/n against his chest.
"Oh yeah my parents were thrilled that the only child they birthed turned out to be a trans guy. Super pumped." Gabe frowned not thinking about what he was saying.
"I'm sorry. I think both our families kinda blow." Gabe tried to cover but Y/n smiled at him.
"Hey I don't mind our found family. I think we're not doing so bad there." Y/n countered leaning forward to kiss him. Gabe kissed him back and sighed.
"You know I'm not like avoiding her calls because of us right?" Gabe looked down at Y/n. The topic of Gabe's closeted status was a touchy subject for the both of them but Y/n knew he was under alot of stress with this new documentary and he didn't want to make things worse.
"I know that babe. I think your sister just wants to bitch about her life for a bit. That's what siblings are for, or so I've heard." Y/n joked. Gabe rested his forehead against Y/n's.
"I don't deserve you, you know that right?" Gabe said holding Y/n a little tighter.
"Shut up, answer the phone if it's going to put you in a mood where I have stroke your ego. You know I only enjoy that when you're naked." Y/n playfully slapped his chest and Gabe chuckled.
"Where you going?" He asked as Y/n grabbed his coat from behind the bedroom door.
"I'm getting breakfast because you're going to need coffee if you plan on staying conscious today." Y/n ran back over and gave Gabe a kiss on the cheek as he leaned against the sink once more.
"Be careful." He said earning a nod as Y/n walked out of the apartment. Gabe sat down and looked at his phone at all the texts his sister had sent but before he could open them, Y/n's name popped up on the screen.
"Hey what did you forget?" Gabe asked.
"Nothing, I just wanted to tell you how cute you look this morning." Gabe could hear Y/n's smile over the phone.
"You called just to tell me that? I'll see you in like 20 minutes." Gabe chuckled.
"Yeah but somethings just can't wait. Love you." Y/n said and Gabe felt that familiar panic in his chest.
"You too." Gabe hadn't told Y/n that he loved him directly yet. He expressed his love and he always said you too but he was still working on saying it. He had never been in a relationship this long and he was terrified he was going to wreck it one day, whether on his own or because of his family. He didn't want to lose Y/n.
#Film: Materna#Materna#Gabe#Gabe x Y/n#FTM Y/n#Like A Pretty Boy#Like A Pretty Boy Series#Midi series#Rory Culkin#Culkin Cult#let me know if you want to be added to the tagged list!
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Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱
I've been a disaster for the last month and a half and kept forgetting to post my wiggly Wednesday thoughts, but I am FINALLY getting around to it today!
Thank so much for the tag this week @tinytalkingtina and all the lovely folks who have tagged me before!!🖤💛Consider this a tag back to share those wonderful brainworms (if you'd like to):
@ataliagold @penny00dreadful @soaringornithopter @steddie-island
Because of a comment @theohohmoment made on a gif set of Eddie Kaspbrak saying it gave huge Steve de-aged by Upside Down nonsense vibes (which, I completely see the vision), the idea of Steve having to deal with being de-aged has had me in a chokehold for a couple of days now.
My brain defaulted to Steve finding Dustin first--and though he's curious at heart and more than accustomed to the weirdness of the world at this point, it still takes some effort for Steve to convince him that it's actually him. Secret handshakes and hair care secrets have to be divulged before Dustin is gasping, "Steve?!" in disbelief while Steve rolls his eyes, one hand on his hip as he deadpans, "Yeah, dude, it's really me."
"But you're...you're..."
"A pipsqueak? Kinda already had that part figured out, Henderson, thanks for that."
Dustin hums, thoughtfully, before his face breaks into a wide grin. "Technically speaking, does this make you my little brother now?"
"Not mentally!"
Dustin rallies the troops (the party) and then takes Steve to Robin and Eddie for help--maybe they were already on the lookout for him, if he hadn't shown up to pick Robin up or meet Eddie for their customary afternoon hangout session of smoking a joint and relaxing. After the initial confusion of assuming Steve must be a friend the kids have taken into their fold, it actually doesn't take nearly as much convincing as it did with Dustin to get the two to recognize him, since, well...
Robin and Eddie--they're Steve's peers, give-or-take a grade on either side. They remember Steve at this age, but with the lens of having been kids themselves. And, sure, the high school hierarchy hadn't yet been established, but Steve was still a sporty kid, a rich kid, still popular by 13 year old standards. So they know who they're staring at, once Dustin gives the whole spiel rapid fire. Realizing that Steve is now all awkward, gangly limbs and chipmunk cheeks, thought--that's a real shock, and a delightful one at that.
"Guess I can't call you big boy, anymore," Eddie comments wryly, earning him Steve's most fearsome scowl.
Even after the initial surprise of things passes, the pair of them can't stop cooing at him, pinching his face and ruffling his hair, prompting Steve to pout and grumble and tell them to fuck off about a thousand times over.
It's not much better with the kids. They aren't teasing and fussing over Steve the same way, sure, since age-wise he's landed himself right smack dab in the middle between them and Erica. But they barely listened to him before, the little hellions, and though Steve still defaults to playing babysitter, pretty much any and all authority he had has been totally lost.
By the third or fourth time they've pulled the we're older card to overrule him, Steve's had enough.
"You don't pull this shit with Erica! And she's way younger than you!"
Dustin scoffs. "Uh, yeah, that's cuz Erica could kick all our asses."
Mike and even Lucas simply nod sagely in agreement while Erica looks triumphant in the background. Even Steve can't argue that particular point, although he does huff back, "Oh, what, so you're saying I can't?"
Dustin ruffles his hair--God, but Steve really does not appreciate being on the other side of that one--and simply says, "Steve, little buddy...even before there's no way you could have."
It takes Eddie himself to break up the (mostly playful) wrestling match that ensues immediately afterwards.
It's not all bad, though. Even though at 19 Steve lets himself be a bit of a goofball, he's still used to being the "one in charge" when the party is around, at times the literal grown up in an emergency and worrying over making sure everyone is okay. That instinct is still there, of course, but...lessened when the entire situation opens up possibilities of just being a kid, even for a little while. Eddie and Robin both are only all too happy to encourage and indulge that, knowing that the general absence of Steve's parents forced him to grow up a bit too fast, and the last several years of monster hunting haven't exactly helped with things.
It's Eddie often egging Steve on to take the final step--try to win enough tickets at the arcade to claim the largest stuffed animal hanging on the wall, betting Steve he can't swing himself over the top of the swingset at the park--with a teasing, "Come on, Harrington, you know you want to."
And the thing is, Steve does, and for the first time in a long while he feels free enough that he can.
"You know, it's probably a good thing this happened now, and not, like...senior year," Steve muses, peering at Eddie where he's settled in the other swing, their shoes dragging gently through the smooth pebbles under their feet.
Eddie frowns, trying to follow his logic. "Gonna need you to walk me through that one, Harrington."
"Well, these days, I've got you and Rob."
"What, to help you figure things out?" Eddie isn't sure how much of a boon he really is for that part--Robin, sure, braniac that she was. The odds probably would have been in Steve's favor even before, though, given what mini-geniuses Dustin and the rest of the party turned out to be, especially when it came to Upside Down shenanigans.
"So I'd have a reason to even want to figure things out," Steve murmurs quietly.
Eddie's head whips to stare at him, blinking owlishly, expression a mixture of confusion and alarm.
"Stevie, I don't--what do you--?"
He shrugs one shoulder, smile sheepish, the self-deprecating shine of his eyes jarring in a face still soft with baby fat.
"I mean..." Steve starts to count off on his fingers, "I'd just barely managed to survive my second round with all this bullshit. Nancy and I broke up. School was shit. Tommy and Carol--not like I could talk to them, or would even want to, after everything that happened. And Hargrove totally had it out for my ass. The only thing I really had going for me at the time was, you know. Looking after those little hellions."
"Sure, not being able to drive, that shit sucks, but...I'm just saying, back then, staying thirteen would have looked a lot more tempting. Plus, it'd be kinda nice to just--I don't know. Get a chance at a do-over." Pressing his face the chain of the swingset, his big, hazel eyes peeking out around it, Steve adds in an undertone, "Maybe not be such a jackass the second time around."
Eddie feels a pang in his chest. He can't resist the urge to walk his swing over so he can lay a hand on Steve's shoulder and squeeze--less forceful, more careful than he usually is. "We've all got shit we'd change, if we got another shot. Christ, I sure as hell would--you're talking to a third year senior here, after all. But, I think you're being way too fucking hard on yourself, man. You did just fine the first go-around, no retcon necessary."
Steve smiles, a soft, hesitant thing. "...Thanks, Eds."
"Anytime, Stevie."
And then, of course, from there Robin and the kids use their big brain power to break whatever curse Steve's been placed under, and Eddie helps him learn to still embrace all his silly, childish indulgences even now that he's back to being one of the 'big kids.'
#pre steddie#steddie#de-aged steve#my writing#wiggly wednesday#tag game#tag games#this kind of ran away from me#but then what else is new lol
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Frozen 3 - What We Know So Far - 2023
(NOTE: Image above is not concept art for F3. It is from F2.)
I wanted to do an overview post of everything we've learned this year about F3. I want to keep track of all news related to this project so that we can avoid misunderstandings and fan theories overrunning the films' development, like with what happened with F1 and F2.
To note, from now on I'm pretty much combining F3 and F4 (or F3 part 2) as a single project until we learn more about them. They are pretty much confirmed to be the same story anyway, so it makes sense to just put them together. Thus, if you want to know about F4 on my blog, it will be under the #frozen 3 news tag that I feature on my page.
I want to give shout outs to @ericmicael, @frozen-snowflakesandsunflowers, @frozensnetwork, and @bigfrozenfan for actually being the ones to provide some the sources below. I don't want to take all the credit for finding this info.
If any more info drops in December, or I discover more news released in 2023 in general, I will update this post.
Overview of What We Know
The idea of Frozen 3 came from Marc Smith, the Story Director of Frozen 2, and the story is so large that it will be separated into two films. There is no official release date, or info regarding how the two films will be released.
Jennifer Lee is overseeing the project and keeping up with it, but is not writing or directing as of 2023. This may change later on, however as of now, Lee is not behind the creative process.
It is currently unknown if Chris Buck will return as director, and there is no news on who is directing or writing the films, other than Marc Smith coming up with the initial idea.
Idina Menzel and Josh Gad have officially announced their involvement. However, Kristen Bell and Jonathan Groff have not officially announced their returns. It is sort of obvious that they will return, especially with Bell saying that they are all ready to return, but just wanted to establish that they have not publicly stated this yet since the announcement. As for other cast members, no one has stated yet that they will return as of 2023.
Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Bobby Lopez are returning to write the songs, and have also confirmed that the story will be two films.
Jennifer Lee continued to push that no other entry other than the main films are canon to the newest project. Thus, the Frozen Podcast that was announced alongside F3 and misrepresented as a lead up to F3, is not considered canon.
There is very little known about the story, however, it may be about Elsa and Anna being very busy in their new roles. There is also some hints about Elsa's powers possibly growing.
More detailed news with sources below the read more.
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As a quick shout out, in the year 2022, Kristen Bell had actually hinted at Frozen 3. At the time, this was considered a joke since Kristen Bell loves to push for more Frozen sequels (and honestly, it probably still is a very coincidental joke haha), however now that we know that F3 was possibly in development at this time, this may of been the first official hint at F3 that we ever received.
youtube
"I would like to officially announce, with zero authority, Frozen 3. I know Idina recently said she would do it. And I feel like if we're all in, what are we waiting for?" -- Kristen Bell, Voice of Anna
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The first bit of information we received about F3 in 2023 was the announcement itself. In early February, Frozen 3 was announced to be in development along side Toy Story 5 and Zootopia 2.
“Today I’m so pleased to announce that we have sequels in the works from our animation studios to some of our most popular franchises, Toy Story, Frozen and Zootopia. We’ll have more to share about these productions soon, but this is a great example of how we’re leaning into our unrivaled brands and franchises.” -- Bob Iger, Disney CEO
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At the same time, Kristen Anderson-Lopez further confirmed this, indirectly announcing that the Lopezes would return to write the songs for the new film.
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On the same day, Josh Gad confirmed (inserting link in case video doesn't load) that he was ready to return to the film.
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In June, we received new information about the film in regards to Jennifer Lee's involvement. As of 2023, Jennifer Lee is only overseeing the project, but not writing or directing it. In this announcement, (which is actually bit misleading since, as said, Jennifer Lee is still returning to the project, just not fully as writer/director) Lee hinted that someone else came up with the idea of Frozen 3, and it had become their project. This led to many fans assuming that this new person was the new director/writer.
“I can’t say where we are. All our stories are driven by the artists in the studio. Where we’re going with Frozen did not come from me, it came from an incredible person. That’s a new piece, I’ve told no one. And I’ve been blown away by it and I’m just having a blast with that team.” -- Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer
---
In the same month, Idina Menzel confirmed her return as Elsa. However, she stated that she didn't know too much about the project itself and said that they only teased her about it.
“I don’t know a lot. To be completely honest, they teased it to us, and I have no idea. They don’t show you a script. They don’t show you anything. All I know is, yeah we are gonna make one, and that’s it. So, I’m like, ‘Cool! I will be able to pay my bills." --Idina Menzel, Voice of Elsa
---
A Month later, Idina continued to drop small tidbits of what she knows (barely anything apparently haha) about F3 in another interview with This Morning.
youtube
"Yes...it's happening I was told, I mean you know nothing's been signed but I'm very excited if it is happening- I swear to you I'm not being elusive...I haven't seen a script." --Idina Menzel, Voice of Elsa
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Later in October, we got more info about the film's creative team and how involved Jennifer Lee actually is on the project. Lee announced that the incredible person who came up with the idea of F3 was Marc Smith, Director of story for F2. She also stated that she was blown away by the progress on the project.
“Every morning last week they carved out space for me to work with the creative team on it, and I am blown away and I am so excited. I don’t know what I’m doing on it yet — I’m not doing nothing — except doing what I do now, which is we work on every project as as team and I’m in there with creative. But with ‘Frozen,’ just a little bit more. Our philosophy is this, and it won’t change: If there is more story to tell, the filmmakers have to drive it. And I’ll say with ‘Frozen,’ Marc Smith, who was our director of story on ‘Frozen 2,’ came with an incredible idea for more ‘Frozen,’ and it’s worth it." -- Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer
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Jennifer Lee later confirmed this information again in another interview within the same month, and also pushed that the Frozen Podcast: Forces of Nature, is not canon the the newest project.
The idea for Frozen 3, she continues, came from Marc Smith, head of story on Frozen II. “Growing it out from there feels right because it’s coming with vision, it’s coming with purpose." Lee can't say much about what the sequel entails, but when asked if fans should be paying close attention to the current Frozen story being told on the Forces of Nature podcast series, she's hesitant to consider the audio offering canon. In my head, the films will always stay canon. Anything done outside of that, we give them permission to have their own identity. They may not be canon. I still encourage it because I think it’s fun to explore. But don’t hold us to anything except what we put in those features. That’s just me. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But I also want to say I love that other artists get inspired, and I love the idea of the Frozen story.” -- Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer
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The biggest shock that shook the entire fandom and internet culture, was when Bob Iger dropped the reveal that a Frozen 4 was also in the works at the studio in November.
youtube
‘Frozen 3’ is in the works, and there might be a ‘Frozen 4’ in the works too. But I don’t have much to say about those films right now. Jenn Lee, who created the original ‘Frozen’ and ‘Frozen 2,’ is hard at work with her team at Disney animation on not one but actually two stories.” -- Bob Iger, Disney CEO
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Along side the above announcement, Kristen Anderson-Lopez also confirmed the fourth film.
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Later on in the same month, Jennifer Lee gave more back ground on the idea of two films, and indirectly confirmed that the films would be one story told across two installments.
"We're really excited about where they're going, and we just have a lot of story to tell with that direction we're going in. So, I think, in my head, there may be enough for two in that story. But I'm really, really loving working with the team and where they're going." --Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer
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In November as well, This tweet (linking here just in case the video below doesn't work) started to pick up steam and was posted by a verified account - however, it is still iffy on whether or not this info was for F3 or was just taken from an interview about F2 and repurposed to be about F3. If it is genuine, then Jennifer Lee hints here that the story will possibly involve Elsa's powers growing.
"I will tell you what I think philosophically, that isn't telling you what is in [Frozen 3]. I think Anna and Elsa's journey is only continuing. It was warned by the Trolls that that Elsa's powers would only grow. So, that's all I will say." --Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer
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In December, Jennifer Lee did another interview with Heart where she actually revealed a tiny bit more about Frozen 3's story. She goes on to say that Elsa and Anna will be very busy in the next project.
youtube
“Well they are coming back. Big Iger himself leaked it, that we got so much story that we’re working on now, it looks like it’s gonna be two films. Cause it’s so big where they’re going next. And Elsa’s got a lot to do, so, and I can’t give anything away to say what’s gonna happen but Anna as well. And Anna’s you know, I feel very connected to her, the ordinary hero, I don’t have any magic. But I’m really excited. The amazing thing to me is always how these two sisters as we start looking at their journey, they keep surprising us and telling us, showing us what they’re capable of. So I’m definitely excited about where we’re going.” So does Elsa find love? “I can’t give anything away, I can’t tell you anything. All I want to say is that anyone who thinks they’ve heard anything they are not true, there’s no leak, nothing has left our vaulted story room and the only leak is what Bob Iger leaked himself.” --Jennifer Lee, Disney Animation Studios Chief Creative Officer
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Harley D. Dixon 5
An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!
📖Chapter List.
Author's Note. This is our CDC chapter, so TW for mention of suicide in this one. It's a little graphic.
And it might be better to go in blind, but if you'd like the second TW, please check the first tag on this post.
Other than that, please enjoy reading!
Glenn exhales, "Would you look at that?"
The sun is rising.
Last night I was a dying dog and today I am Harley Dixon.
Me, Dad and Glenn are on the roof of the parked RV, watching the sky give birth to the sun, knowing that I got hundreds more sunrises waiting for me; that the worst is over, like Rick said. The morning is as fresh as peeled summer fruit, and it's all ours. I'm reminded of special breakfasts on our old porch, where my Uncle Merle and my Dad would be scooping burnt scrambled eggs into their mouths, and I'd be in Dad's lap, sipping on a box of orange juice. We had them whenever I won an award at school. I feel like I've won every award in the world.
Glenn is the one sitting next to us, now, in this new version of day-break. He fills the outline of where a ghost of a brother and an Uncle used to be. We're sharing a secret bag of old freeze-dried cherries, while everyone else sleeps. They're a small luxury, like the sun. We can make happiness out of anything.
It all feels right.
"One hundred percent mold free, this time. I swear," Glenn says, ripping the bag open and pouring me the first cherries.
"They better be," Dad jokes. "First time was free."
"Next time, you'll beat my ass?" Glenn guesses.
He looks like he's realizing his legacy is always gonna be the guy who can't make jerky.
"Damn straight."
We knock our plastic bowls together, smiling.
"To Harley."
"To Harley."
"To me!"
"What a mess this whole thing was." Glenn shakes his head, chewing. "I know I already said it, but... I'm really sorry."
"Ain't your fault you can't cook." I giggle.
"Gee, thanks." He laughs. "I guess I deserve that."
"Just learn to salt the damn meat, China." Dad says. "Then we can talk."
"Okay, okay, okay." Glenn puts his hands up, but he's still grinning. "I suck at cooking. I get it. Are Dixons always this mean?"
Me and my Daddy answer, yes, at the same time.
"Good to know." Mumbles Glenn.
"The night I got scratched," I muse, my fingers painted with crayon-red cherry juice. "You was the first person after my Dad to reach the tent."
I remember people saying that Glenn could outrun a cheetah if there were enough supplies behind the finish line. The thought makes me laugh again. When you ain't big, you gotta find other ways to elbow your way through danger. Sometimes a good brain and better legs are all you need. Sometimes people like me and Glenn get to win, too.
"I guess so." Glenn's smiling shyly. "But only because Rick was too busy reloading. And Shane was up the back. And, well, I guess— When we first got back to camp, people were saying that you were gone. That you were missing, or dead, or— We didn't know. Your Dad, he just took off into the woods. Just, vroom, y'know? Like, gone. I thought if I was gonna be like anyone, it should be him. So, I went running, too."
Dad leans over and grips Glenn's shoulder; shakes it. A gesture that says, Man to man, I respect you. Maybe even, Brother to brother.
It takes a lot to earn my Dad's respect, if you ain't his blood.
"You all looked like you was boutta faint." I snicker, 'cause it's funny now.
"W-we all thought it was too late." Glenn tries to laugh. It's been hard, I guess, bottling up that night until now. "When we first saw the tent."
I see flashes of wet eyes, and teeth, and spiders.
"I did too," I confess.
My Dad turns me around in his lap, then, and bounces his knee a little. "But I woulda never let that happen, chicken, y'hear? And I ain't never gonna let that happen. I'd have to be dead, 'fore a walker laid his hands on you." He frowns, looking me dead in the eye.
"I hear." I nod. "It was just really scary."
"C'mere, babe."
He pulls me down to his chest — his heart — and I curl up there, where I know nothin' will ever get me.
"For the record, I was about to faint." Glenn mutters.
I throw a cherry at him and he dodges it, grinning.
"I knew it!"
We all sit like this for a long while, with the sun and the rustling wheat as our friends, snacking on our sour fruit. Then they start talking again, a notch deeper, a notch outta my league. Adult to adult. I realize they must think I'm asleep — It is the ass-crack of dawn, after all — so I don't interrupt.
"I didn't mean it like that, you know." Glenn tells my Dad. "You can protect your own. I get that."
"Don't tell me what I already know, kid."
"I just..." Glenn starts, but then there's nothing.
In this long moment, I think Glenn is going to leave down the ladder, 'cause it's what anyone else would do.
People like me and my Dad — People who hoard supermarket coupons, and talk real nasty, and get called hillbillies — don't mix well with people like Glenn. People pretend there isn't, but there's an invisible cut-off on who deserves what in life, and it ends right after people who only gotta work one job. Glenn's smart, and he prolly ain't never had to go hungry to pay his water bills, not once in his life. He prolly ain't never been to jail, or snapped a squirrel's neck, or re-used the same bottle of hand soap forty times over. He's like the rest of 'em. Rick and Lori. Shane. The kids in my old classes. Their parents on parent-night. We can work well together but anything else is askin' too much.
But we're family now, right? I think Glenn might leave, but—
"Well, for what it's worth, I couldn't do it." Is all Glenn says.
He doesn't leave. In fact, I hear him settling further into his chair. It's what Uncle Merle would have done.
My Dad pauses. "Do what?"
"Look over my shoulder all the time. Worry about someone else every time I hear a gunshot. Walk around knowing I have that much to lose." Glenn sounds lost in thought, but then he surfaces. He ends his list with a simple, "Be a parent."
My Dad sighs, debating whether or not to go along with this.
"That ain't all there is to it." He eventually says.
"No?"
"Nah. It ain't some curse." Dad says. "I hear a gunshot? Sure, first thing I'm thinkin' 'bout is Harley. But that's the way it's meant to be."
"I just don't think I'd be able to handle it." I imagine Glenn gazing out at the sky. "These past few days have been stressful enough."
"Yeah, well that's why I got a kid 'n you don't." Dad's being a bit of a smart-ass. Then, he answers seriously. "You got a kid? You gotta be ready to die for 'em. But it ain't just sittin' around, waitin' to do it. It's the opposite. Every day I wake up, and I do it for her. I do everythin' I do for her. After that baby's born, who you were, what you liked doin', any plans you had — That's over. Suddenly, yer life ain't the most important thing you got, no more."
I've never heard my Dad talk like this. I wish our lives were worth the same, but I guess it don't work that way.
"And who were you?" Glenn asks, knocking back a cherry. "Before Harley?"
"A nobody. Drunk bastard with drunk-bastard friends." Dad scoffs.
"Well... That's good, then?" Glenn's guessing. "Sounds like she changed you for the better, man."
I can't imagine my Dad being anybody other than my Dad. The day I came into the world, so did he. There's nothin' before that.
"It's hard." Dad admits, prolly for the first time ever, to Glenn. "I love 'er, but it's hard as shit. Some days I wanna pull my damn hair out."
"You must have been going crazy during... everything."
"Oh, you think?" Dad jokes. "You ain't seen me fuck up that walkie?"
Glenn bursts out laughing. "It hit the RV when you threw it out the window. Scared the shit out of Dale."
I have to try really hard not to laugh. I'm meant to be pretend-asleep!
"You got any nieces, or anythin'?" Dad asks.
"No." Glenn answers. "My sisters were either too interested in their careers to have kids, or... Too young."
Glenn's sisters aren't here. Blood does everything it can to stay together. Dad taught me that. That means his sisters are both young and dead.
"That's gotta be tough, man." Dad sighs.
"No, it's alright. Sometimes I can pretend they're out there, together. Happy." He pauses. "What about you? Nieces? Nephews?"
Dad actually laughs a little. "Fuck no. Not from my side, at least. Guy like my brother ain't meant to spread his seed around. Ain't right."
Glenn starts laughing, too. "I guess not."
"Nah, Harley's my only girl." My Dad says. I feel him start playing with the end of my ponytail.
"You know, when you first showed up in camp, I thought she was Merle's." Glenn says, then quickly, "No offence."
"No shit?" Dad scoffs.
"No shit. I thought you looked too young to have a kid."
An unspoken joke makes them both laugh all over again.
"Yeah, well, I was real busy in my teen years."
I got no idea what that means, but it must be funny. Their conversation tapers from chuckling into a warm silence, and then it's just us and the sun again. It clips over a candy-colored cloud, and I can hear car doors opening and shutting, and loud yawns from down below. We're gonna be on the road again soon. I might not need a cure anymore, but we still need water, food, and walls, and the CDC's got it all. I hear someone shouting, alright, people, time to start heading out, and then a whole bunch of shuffling. The day isn't just ours, anymore.
My Dad stretches, groaning, and I pretend to be woken up by it.
He pinches my cheek. "Look who's here."
"Hey, Harley." Glenn smiles, packing up. "You enjoy the cherries?"
"Uh-huh," I smile back. "Thank you."
"No problem." He says. "There's actually some left over, if you want it."
He holds out the bag while I dig my hand into it.
I think it's funny how me, the man who made me, and the man who almost killed me are all friends, now. I learnt in science class that the more pressure you put on a rock, the more compact the molecules get. I think we're the molecules. It's bittersweet.
"Not too many." Dad warns. "You're still sick, remember? Don't want you messin' up my truck again."
"I remember," I promise, shoving a handful of cherries into my mouth. I also remember him sayin' he don't give a damn 'bout the truck.
Someone shouts out the radio channel again.
"Time to see this thing through, then." Rallies Glenn, but he looks nervous.
We say goodbye to the sunrise.
"Dad, is that—?"
"That's the CDC, alright."
We reach it by early morning. It's a monster of a building. It's like a big, white buoy in the middle of the ocean, saying, Come here, I'll keep you afloat. We ease to a stop and then we just look at it, 'cause it's all we can do. The CDC, right before our eyes. It's really there.
"It's bigger than I thought." I think aloud.
Dad just grunts, wary. "Stay close to me."
Our new walkie chimes, and Rick speaks to everyone when he says, "This is it, people. Leave your things. We're gonna walk up."
Why does the air feel so cold?
My Dad pulls both me and his crossbow out the truck, and then the whole group — one tired, beaten, hopeful force — are slowly making our way to the building. We walk through a silent field. I wish it could speak to us; tell us what it's been through.
We pass torn bags of sand and littered bullet shells. I think there's something here that we're not seeing, not yet, like a sleeping beast at the back of a cave, and when we find it, we're gonna be sorry we ever looked. We weave through big, black piles of clothes. The clothes are full, I realize. Full of hands, and legs; all white, all dead. They're bodies. They still have their human faces; they're still them, just dead, and they're studded with the bullets that the shells came from. The story tells itself, on behalf of the ghosts. They give their blood back to mother nature, dripping into the grass. I gasp. From head to toe, I go cold. My Dad shields my face, but I've already seen 'em. They're already nightmares.
Rick leads us. He leads us past trucks and barriers and blockades. Every sign the universe gives him to turn back, he ploughs through, chin up.
Maybe he's brave. Maybe he's stupid. Maybe he was designed to be both. Maybe we're walking to our deaths.
Nobody speaks. If they do, the bodies might wake up, and the graveyard we're intruding on will realize it doesn't want us here.
A crow squawks from its post on a dead soldier's helmet. If I spoke bird, I'd hear, Turn back.
We have to do this. It's what everyone's thinking, as they manage one foot in front of the other. Just one more step, and after that, just one more step. I take in the group, 'cause they ain't dead, and it's a little less awful to look at.
Morales, rifle up. Eliza, Louis and Sophia, three baby ducklings under their Mommas' shaking wings. Dale and Shane, polar opposites but in this moment, exactly the same; with their steely gaze and steady hands. Jacqui and Andrea, holding hands; two girls in women's bodies, walking through a world that wants to eat them. I catch Carl's eye. He catches mine, over the violence spread out before us. I watch him send me a thumbs up, which does nothing but turn me colder — colder than ice, colder than I've ever been — before my view is blocked for a second time, by Glenn. I'm sandwiched in; hidden, protected. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope I'll get to open them again. My Dad leads me by the shirt over the grass. I trust him.
My shoes hit something tougher, louder — Cement. Rock? Our footsteps echo, now. Are we really in a cave?
It goes double-dark, through my eyelids. Please don't leave us, I beg the sun nicely, We need you.
I squeeze my Dad's hand. He squeezes back.
Then I hear a rumble, like thunder, and I peek out from behind my Dad. It's Rick, banging on roller shutters. We all clench closer together, a fist ready to fight. Nobody does it on purpose, but me and all the other kids are pushed toward the middle. Rumble, rumble, rumble. Rick goes from one door to another to another, until he's shook down the entire row.
Guns are raised. We step back, together.
It's like knockin' on doors on Halloween. We don't know what creature's gonna answer. Maybe nobody.
"Anybody home?" Glenn mutters.
We stretch our silence for as long as we can stand it. There is no answer.
Newly determined, or maybe offended, or scared, or maybe all three, Rick beats down all the doors again like he hates 'em.
"Hey!" He calls out. "Whoever's in there, open up!"
"Nobody's here, man!" T-Dog shakes his head, but he ain't got no proof.
"Then tell me why you think all the damn shutters are down?" Rick snarls, and it's like we're in the parking lot again, and I'm scared.
And I should be.
"Walkers incoming!" Shane shouts.
Suddenly, my Dad and Glenn are whirling the other way, facing our new enemy. I grab onto the back of Dad's belt, and when I peer out between their elbows, I see one, two, six, twelve dead bodies lumbering to their feet, all dressed in military green, and dented helmets, and layers and layers of crusty black blood and loose skin. The other kids start to cry, but not me. I can't cry, 'cause I can't breathe. I hear a slicing fwip, and then one of the dead soldiers drop to the ground like the only thing holding him up were strings. An arrow marks his second deathbed.
"We can't fuckin' stay here, Rick!" My Dad's yelling. "You led us into a death-trap!"
I'm grabbing onto the back of Glenn's shirt, now, 'cause my Dad's stomping off to confront Rick and Shane. I hide my nose in my knuckles. Death-trap, I'm panicking, Death-trap. A week ago, I'd be standing here alone, but I got Glenn now. I don't know how I know that, but I do. I got Glenn.
"Glenn, I'm scared." I whine to him, and there it is, I'm crying. I think of happier things, like cherries and the sun.
"I— I know." Glenn puffs, 'cause he's scared, too. "I know."
He lets me grab his hand. It's what Uncle Merle would have done.
"Death trap or not, we're here for a reason!" Dale's arguing. "Rick made a call! We all did!"
"You want us to phase through the fuckin' doors, old man?" Dad spits. "We're stuck out here! My daughter's stuck out here!"
"Running out of time here, guys!" Jacqui's worrying.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Are those gunshots, now? Bullets are last resorts. Last resorts are only for when you're gonna die. Are we gonna—?
"Are we gonna die, Glenn?"
"No." He hurries to answer, gripping me tighter. "N—No."
"We need to leave!" A woman — Carol? — cries.
"She's right." Lori. That's Lori. "This close to the city? It's too dangerous!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Fort Benning." Shane looks like he's 'bout ready to bolt, bouncin' from foot to foot. A trapped animal. "We can do it. It's still an option, Rick."
"Is it?" Glenn's shouting. "It's a hundred twenty-five miles away!"
"No fuel? Two sick kids?" Morales is shakin' his head, no, no, no. "It's impossible!"
What do we do? No, no, no. We can't leave, but no, no, no, we can't stay, neither.
"What do you wanna do, then?" Shane argues back. "What you wanna do?"
"That's it! We're done here!"
My Dad shuts the whole thing down with one angry shout, locking his hand around my wrist. He tugs me away, and for a moment, the group is tugging itself along behind us, back to the street and the cars. We're a unit again — in the wind, goin' anywhere; scared, flimsy. We take one step, and then two, and we make it all the way back to the grass, before—
"Wait!"
It's Rick.
He ain't budged. Brave or stupid? Is he nuts?
"The camera." He tells us, breathless. "It moved."
All three.
"You imagined it." Dale decides, 'cause he'll say anything to get Rick to move. "How could it have moved?"
It's a lost cause — a last-ditch attempt.
The arguing re-ignites. I hide myself again, 'cause I'd rather be anywhere else.
Rick's shouting that he saw it, he saw the camera move, and his voice hits the concrete and closes in on us, just like the field. Fwip. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each burst of noise is a ticking hand on a dyin' clock. The bodies are picking themselves up faster than we're dropping 'em. Glenn's got a knife out, now, and Shane's pleading with Rick, who's gone nuts, Man, listen, the place is gone, it's gone, it's gone, it's gone. Rumble, rumble, rumble. Fwip. Bang. Crying; shrieking, from me, from the other kids, from Lori, and Jacqui, and the air as it's cut in half by bullet after bullet after bullet. Please, we have two sick kids out here, someone's begging.
"You're killing us!" Rick tells the camera. "You're killing us!"
My Dad fists the back of my shirt and he's pullin' me away, stronger than before. I think he's saying, Fuck it, we can make it on our own; leave the bastard. This must really be rock bottom. We were on our own for weeks. He must be thinking that we can do it again. I can see Glenn struggling to decide whether he should stay with the group or follow his feet, which are already trying to run after me and my Dad. I see Jacqui doin' it, too, and then Andrea, and then Carol.
A body topples over in our path, arrow up its nose. This is chaos.
Cherries and sunlight. Cherries and sunlight.
Then—
Behind us.
A gentle rumble, rumble.
We all whip around.
The doors — They're opening. They really are.
Even Rick looks like he can't believe it. We watch them open, mouths agape, like a bunch of idiots — A portal, to another world.
At first, we think there's a catch. Nothing comes without a catch. Do we go in?
But then there's another bang, and we're reminded that we're as good as dead if we stay out here any longer. We're on the move again, but this time, we're walking into the big, white mouth of the big, white monster, praying, Please don't be worse than it is out here, please don't make us regret this. We stay close together as the doors roll back down, sealing us in. We can breathe again, but only slightly. Would I rather take my chances with the dead soldiers, or with the unknown? I'm not sure. Now it's really happening, I don't think any of us are.
"Electricity." Jacqui whispers in cautious wonder. Electricity is like a myth.
Rick nods toward an archway. "Let's keep moving."
We trickle into the belly of the beast — Down a hallway, and into a lobby with the tallest damn ceiling I ever saw. Papers are thrown all over the floor and the computers at the reception desk are all upturned, but it's pin-drop silent. It's like being in a museum for an old extinction event.
"Hello?" Rick calls out, and if there's a scary creature in here, I sure hope it eats him first. "Who's in here? Who opened the doors?"
The silence answers.
"I did."
I jump outta my skin. Dad gets himself in front of me, but I peek around his waist. There's a man at the top of the stairs. He looks like he's been here for a long, long time. Like those lonely boys in Lord of the Flies, where they'd been on an island for so long that they started going a little crazy. He's wearing a regular t-shirt. I wonder where his lab coat is, if he's a scientist. This is a building for scientists.
"What did you mean by 'sick'?" The lonely-crazy-man calls down to us. "You said you had two sick kids. Is anybody infected?"
The whole group hardens at this question. They all glance back at me. I can see our journey in their eyes.
Rick's smiling, and this time, it looks right.
"You don't know the half of it." He turns back around, chin up, like always. "No. Nobody's infected. Thank God."
Dad puts a hand my shoulder.
The scientist doesn't share the same enthusiasm.
"I'm not sure He's around, anymore." He muses, vaguely sad. Then, "Why are you here? What do you want?"
I've never been good at words, but Rick is, 'cause he comes up with the perfect answer. One he knows we'd all agree on.
"A chance."
And maybe some water. After all we been through, that can't be too much to ask. We must look like a pathetic, begging mess, 'cause that's what we are. I know I am. My hair's made outta knots and grease, just like Lori and Andrea's. We're covered in beatings from the road, like bruises from Jim's fists and eyebags from sleepless nights. We left our quarry for this. We left our fish, and our tyre swing, and we left Jim. This can't be for nothing.
The man, who stands high above us, a judging eye, takes us in. "That's asking an awful lot, these days."
All Rick can say is, "I know," and pray it works.
I think of wet eyes, teeth, and spiders while we wait for his decision.
"You'll submit to a blood test." The scientist tells us. "That's the price of admission."
A breath leaves us all.
"We can—" Rick's nodding. "We can manage that."
That's it? A blood test?
I find myself grinning, and I tug on my Dad's hand. We look at each other. He's smiling, too, just a little. We all are. The scientist doesn't know it, but he's just saved our lives. We're tired and we're dirty and we've been through Hell these past couple days, but a blood test — We can manage that. We can manage anything.
"I left one door open. If you have stuff to bring in, do it now." He says, from his perch. "Once these doors shut, they don't open."
We tell him we understand.
This place is like a magical castle.
After we give up our blood, the scientist takes us on a tour.
Jacqui was right. We got electricity. But apparently, we also got hot water.
If electricity's a myth, then hot water is a damn hoax. I can't wait to have a shower tonight. I used to hate showers, but that's just one of them things now that I can't believe I ever hated, like spinach. I been so hungry before that I'd dream about spinach. Glenn and Lori groan like they've bitten into a big, juicy steak when they hear 'bout the showers, and we all laugh. When I ask him, the scientist says that he isn't wearing his lab coat because he only wears it to make himself look cool. He says that now that we're here, he'll have to put it back on. It makes me giggle.
I run ahead with the other kids, and we all reach a long line of doors, where the scientist says we'll be staying.
The tour is complete!
We all pick rooms to stay in and then we unpack, like we're in a hotel, and it's exciting. None of us have been to a hotel in years.
"Hey, Harley!" Sophia pops her head out the next room over, holding a bar of soap. "Look! Soap!"
I hold out mine. "I got one, too!"
Behind Sophia, Carl pops his head out. "Me too!"
And behind him, like two little owls, Eliza and Louis appear. "Us, too!"
We dash back into our rooms. Me and my Dad's room got two double beds, and I ain't never had a double bed before, so I climb on it, and I jump up and down to test it out. It don't even squeak or nothin'. Dad watches me from where he's emptying one of our back packs.
As I try touch the ceiling, I tell him, "This place is awesome!"
"Harley, come down from there 'fore you crack yer head open." He orders, like a party-pooper.
I do what he says, 'cause I don't wanna ruin the day by getting spanked. "I'm gonna have a real-life shower."
"That's right." He shakes out the yellow shirt with the dinosaurs on it. He chucks it at my head, smirking. "Get ready, then."
I grab the brush that Sophia's letting me use first and a pair of purple pyjama pants from my Dad. I take myself into the bathroom. At first, the water's like straight lava on my skin, and I yelp. Dad asks if I'm alright, and then he comes in to fix the water for me. The lava settles back down, and I scrub and wash and sud myself up until I'm almost as red as a lobster. It's the best shower I've ever had. I was getting so sick of using baby wipes and river water to wash myself. When I step out of the real-life shower, the whole room is steamed up. I draw a smiley face into the mirror just 'cause I can, and then I brush out all my hair. I smell like strawberries. I dress in my cozy pyjamas and socks.
When I come out, my Dad re-does my buttons, 'cause apparently I did 'em all wrong. I stand between his knees while he re-orders 'em.
"He said there's a games room here." I smile.
"Maybe you can scope it out after dinner." Dad says. "You gotta be hungry by now, right?"
"Oh, I forgot 'bout dinner!" There's just too many wonders to keep track of in this place! "We gotta hurry!"
My Dad loops the last button.
"Come on, come on, come on!" I nag, pulling him off the bed and out the door.
"Damn." He chuckles. "People are gonna start thinkin' I ain't feedin' you."
"I bet there's gonna be steak!"
This is the best day ever.
We reach the CDC's little cafeteria, which is in total darkness to save energy, except for a spotlight above the biggest table. Makes it feel even more special. I hear clinking forks and plates, and I think these are the two happiest days I've ever had. Me and Dad take seats next to Carol and Sophia. As potato salad — Yes, potato salad. That's almost as good as soap — and greens and meat get passed around, I'm reminded of our fish fry. My Dad is here with me to enjoy it this time, and there are walls to protect us, instead of trees. We're clean. We're safe. We're alive.
"Just tell me when." Carol tells T-Dog as she pours him some wine, while everyone is getting settled in at the table.
Carol pours for a long time and T-Dog does not say when.
People start laughing.
T-Dog gives in and goes, "Okay, when, when, when."
"Thought I was gonna be there all night." Carol scoff-chuckles, sitting back down.
When I look around, I see one big family having dinner together, and I see people I'd almost forgotten about under all that dirt.
"Hey, after the past few days we've had, I think we deserve it." Rick's smiling, holding up his hands.
"I'll say." Lori snickers.
Dale suddenly stands, glass in hand. "How about we dedicate this meal to Harley?"
Rick puts down his napkin. "I think that's a perfect idea."
I giggle under all the attention as everyone rushes to agree, finding their glasses. I hide my face behind my Dad's arm. He peels himself away, smirking, and everyone's got something to say about my red face when I'm no longer hidden. I smack Carl when he tells me I look like a tomato, and everyone's doubled over with laughter, again. It's my favorite sound ever, I decide.
Before we can toast, my Dad butts in.
"Hang on. Old man, how's about that watch you carry around?" He asks. "It got a date on it?"
"I wish," Dale smiles, "But the battery died yesterday. Why? Is there something I'm missing?"
"I reckon it's almost July, right?" Dad looks around.
Is he gonna say what I think he's gonna say?
I start grinning.
Rick nods, "I reckon so. It's probably been about a month since everything went down."
"Harley was born in July. Twenty-second. Eight years ago. Ain't that right?" Dad ruffles my hair, and I giggle, 'cause I'm just so full of happiness that I feel like I'll never be anything else again. He raises his glass; wraps a hand around my shoulders. "Close enough, am I right?"
"Absolutely, that's close enough!" Lori shouts, clapping her hands; rushing for her glass. "My God, this is perfect!"
"We got ourselves a birthday dinner, here, people!" T-Dog whoops, raising his, too.
Rick lifts his glass above his head, and it's official. "To the birthday girl!"
"To the birthday girl!"
Clink, clink, clink.
More cheering. Two toasts in one day. I must be the luckiest girl in the whole, wide world. I bump my glass of water into Dad's glass on my right, and Sophia's on my left. After the scare with the scratches, this celebration means ten times more than a regular birthday would. There's no cake here, or number-candles, but I don't need any of that to make this moment special. I got Glenn singing an off-key Happy Birthday, and I got Jacqui giggling, God, shut that boy up, and I got Sophia hugging me, and I got another year and a whole lotta more days I get to live, with everyone at this table; with my Dad. And when Rick leans over the table, I even let him give me a high-five!
"Eight." Rick raises his eyebrows at me while he sits back down, pointing at me. "Almost double digits."
"You're almost my age!" Grins Carl.
"Good luck." Lori dramatically whispers to my Dad.
He gives me a look. "Listen to me, you ain't allowed to grow any more after this, okay?"
I can't help if I grow!
"Okay, Dad." I laugh. "I promise to be eight forever."
"Good girl." He says, gulping down more wine.
"Hold up." T-Dog sticks his palm out. "This is a birthday party. You know what that means, right? We need to hear at least one embarrassing story."
"Good idea." Jacqui gasps.
Dad makes a big show of scoffing. "Damn, which one you want? I got thousands."
What a traitor!
"I mean, we have all night, here." Shane shrugs, grinning like a little smart-ass. "I'm up for a story-time. How 'bout y'all?"
"Let's hear it," Morales gestures at my Dad.
"Alright." Dad sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. I try leaning over to cover his mouth, but he bats me away, and everyone is already laughing and the story ain't even started yet. "How 'bout— Okay. Okay. Damn, this is a good one. 'Bout when she was five, we bought Harley this skateboard—" Everybody's going, Oh God, 'cause they see where this is going. "Uh-huh. We took 'er down to the skatepark near our house, and there was a bunch of other lil' kids there — 'bout her age — and I'on know how she did it, but these kids were all convinced she was this master skater who was gonna show 'em how it's done. She was coachin' 'em, I think. Showin' off her new board. End of the day, she finally goes to show 'em a trick — 'Member, first day at this damn park — and everyone's watching and—" He claps his hands, smack. "Falls flat on 'er fuckin' face, in front of all of 'em."
Ugh, why'd he have to go and tell that story?
Rick covers his mouth 'cause he's trying not to laugh, 'cause I guess he values whatever dignity I got left but Shane, he's clappin' and trying not to spit his food out, 'cause he's actually a big smart-ass. I'm laughing behind my hands, like Sophia. Glenn's resting his forehead on the table, and he's shakin', so I guess he's laughing, too. When he sits upright, he's crying, and Jacqui's gotta beat his back 'cause he's choking a little bit.
"I'm alri—" He coughs. Then he keeps laughin', which makes it worse. "I'm alright."
"Hey, I ain't even fall that bad!" I defend myself.
He chugs Jacqui's water to save himself.
"Wait—" Lori's chuckling. "Five years old?"
"Yep," Dad goes back to eating. He's satisfied with the damage he's done.
"Pretty brave for that age." Lori tells me, putting on an I'm impressed face.
"Damn, that's pretty bad." T-Dog's shaking his head. "Sorry, girl, but I'm glad I asked, 'cause shit!"
"Leave the poor girl alone." Carol giggles, quietly.
Shane looks off into the darkness, pretending there's a crowd. "Anybody got a skateboard?"
"Oh, shut up." Andrea smiles. "Settle down, or Lori's gonna have to pull that photo out."
"May I ask a question?"
We're all so isolated in this pocket of happiness, celebrating the end of our troubles, that when the scientist speaks, I think we're all a little spooked. Smiles freeze and fade. Glasses lower. Heads turn. We're not the only people in the world, we're all realizing. We'd forgotten all about the reason we came here. That's what potato salad does to people, I guess.
The conversation dies off like a guillotine sliced it in half.
"What were you going to toast to?" The scientist asks, and his voice is like a soft, chilly breeze in a forest. I'm not even sure he was sitting there the whole time. Maybe he's supernatural, and he teleported. That makes me scared. "Before you figured out it was her birthday?"
And just like that, the dinner turns awkward.
Rick clears his throat. "Well, if I'm being completely honest, here, Harley is the reason we came out to the city in the first place. I know I told you that nobody here was infected, but there were a couple days where... we weren't sure. Harley got scratched. We left looking for a cure."
The scientist's eyes roam over to my face, but then they don't leave.
"Now we're on the subject," Shane decides to break the silence, frowning, "How about you tell us what exactly happened here, doc?"
Rick mutters, "We don't have to do this right now, Shane."
"Wait a second." Shane sighs. "You said it yourself, just now. This is why we came all the way out here, right? Figure out what happened? Put all our eggs in one basket, and uh—" He laughs a laugh that tells me nothing is funny here. "Instead we found him. We found one man, talking in riddles. Why is that, you think?"
The scientist tanks the insult. "When things got bad, people just... left, to be with their families. The rest bolted."
I remember just how shocked I was at the size of this building when I first saw it creeping up the windows. It's way too much space for one man. There must have been hundreds of scientists working in here, and now it's just a shell. A cave for a lonely monster.
"Every last one?" Shane whispers, squinting; disbelieving.
The scientist falters, for just a moment, and I can see old pains on his face. "No. Some couldn't face leaving. They... opted out."
The tables goes from quiet to silent. Opted out. I know what that means. It's another one of them things adults say to butter up the truth, and it means killing yourself. I squeak, then, like I've been kicked in the ribs. I hide behind my Dad, who cradles the back of my damp hair, but you can't hide from words once they're in your head. Suicide. Dead, but not an accident — On purpose, with pills, or a gun, or a— a— a bridge. Something snotty gets caught in my throat like a fish-hook, and I'm crying now, at my own birthday dinner. Somebody drops their fork in defeat.
"There was a rash of suicides." Mutters the scientist, immune to his own story; numb. "In a matter of days, I was alone."
"Why didn't you leave?" Asks Andrea.
Carl is crying too, now. I wish I could make him feel better, just for a moment, but I can't.
"I just kept working." Smiles the scientist, but it's not right— It's just muscles, pulling his droopy face upward. "I just wanted to do some good."
Good.
The word reaches up into the ceiling, and leaves us at the bottom, sitting in its echo.
"There is no cure here." The scientist says.
The dinner is over.
Everything comes crashing down as fast as it went flying up.
We were on top of the world just a few hours ago. We were invincible. We had the news that I wasn't going to die in our veins, and then we had hot water and soap and potato salad, and each other. We had hotel rooms and a birthday dinner. But now we just have a dead end and a long list of regrets. There is nothing here for us besides showers, lights, and ghosts. I feel like a trapped animal. I'm a hamster in a maze, going around and around and around, and I can't get out. A rash of suicides. That thing I thought was hiding somewhere, it's this, and it's out, and I'm sorry we ever looked. Please don't let it be worse than it is out here, I remember, Please don't make us regret this.
After what feels like hours, the hallways I'm running down end. I see the game room.
I run inside and corner myself under the table. A cloth hides me from the world outside, and if I pretend hard enough, I can take myself right out of here and into a nice, safe pillow fort, instead. Like the ones I used to make back home. I can be someone else. If I'm in my head, I'm not here.
But then I hear the door open, and it's just a wooden table again, and I'm in the CDC.
"Harley?" It's my Dad, 'cause of course it is. I moan into my hands, crying so hard I'm not getting enough air. "You in here?"
I don't want to be found. I want to be lost.
The cloth lifts.
"Baby, what's wrong?" My Dad asks, but I know he already knows. How could he not know?
There are lots of words that remind me of my Momma, like sunshine, and cigarettes, and the worst — Suicide.
"Get out." I tell him, using my feet to push him away. "Get out."
I should've learnt my lesson back at the quarry, on that night I hit my Dad, but I don't care. I just wanna hurt something. I'm hurting. A rash of suicides. I can't stop hearing it, and I can't stop seeing it — Over and over again, the night on the bridge. Opted out. Suicide. Killing yourself.
Pills, guns, ropes.
Bridges.
"Baby, I know." Dad's saying, grabbing my kicking feet. "I know. Come out. I don't want you thinkin' 'bout this, so come on out."
"I can't help it!" I sob, 'cause I really can't. Something that is too big for my body is happening to me, and I can't stop it.
"H— I know. Just come out." He's begging, and now he's not just holding my feet, he's pulling 'em; pulling me, out from underneath my hidey hole and into the world, even though I want to stay in here forever. He's trying so hard to bury something that's still alive; something that has teeth and jaws, and is eating me from the inside out. He don't wanna see it, and he don't wanna hear it, and he don't wanna deal with it. I wish he'd curl up in my make-believe pillow fort, and hide from the world with me. I wish he'd understand. "You don't gotta be under there. Come out, right now."
Some days I wanna pull my damn hair out.
He's getting angry again. He's holding himself back from something very nasty that lives inside him.
"No," I'm begging him back; begging him to just listen. "No, I don't wanna come out. I don't wanna—!"
I anchor myself to the table leg. We're an unstoppable force and an immovable object, colliding head on for the first time, ever, and it's a disaster. That night at the quarry was nothing.
Furious, my Dad rips the cloth off the table and boxes of puzzles go toppling over onto the floor, breaking into a million little pieces that used to be happily fused. Newly exposed, he easily ducks under and locks his hand around my wrist. I scream, and I close my eyes so I don't have to see my Daddy like this, 'cause it ain't him anymore. He pries my little fingers off the table, one by one by one, and ow, ow, ow, it really hurts. I'm yanked away, and then he's dragging me out by the ankles, shouting—
"Stop actin' like this. You ain't a baby." I hook myself onto a second leg, and he's wrestling with me all over again. "Stop! Mind yer damn father, girl!"
I'm not a baby, but I wish I was, 'cause we were happy back then.
"Stop!" I sob, kicking at him. "J— Leav— Just leave me alone!"
"I ain't leavin' you alone — You know why?" He's seething down to me. "'Cause you need a damn spanking. That's why."
I think back to an hour ago, when I thought I'd only ever be happy for the rest of my life. What a stupid thing to think.
Don't make it any worse, his voice is warning me, from all the times he's done this before.
But it can't get any worse.
In one big pull of strength, I'm forced out from underneath the table once and for all, where I felt safe and small and alone, into the light of the game room where I feel naked, again, for all to see. My face is raw and wet and hurt, and I think one of my buttons got torn off by my Daddy when he was grabbing for me, even though he was the one to fix them before dinner, and on that night in the RV, to show me he loves me. He yanks me to my feet by the armpits, 'cause I can't stand on my own no more, and he crouches to get in my face.
"This is your last fuckin' chance, and then I'm gonna have to take my belt off." He warns me.
"I miss Momma." I whimper.
His face softens, but it's gone so quick I'm sure I imagined it. "Harley," He grinds out, "Stop this."
"You killed her!" I cry, scared, but braver than I ever been at the same time. "You made Momma kill 'erself! You made 'er jump off that bridge!"
I tried so hard to be like my Daddy, but I can't. I can't hide things like he can.
I don't care if he belts me after. I just want him to know. I want him to know that I know, and that I ain't never gonna forgive him. I'd take a thousand beatings just so I could scream the same thing up at him, until my throat bleeds, until I'm nothin' but a voice, until my Momma comes back. People who kill themselves don't wanna come back, but maybe this time, if I was a good enough girl, she might want to. I'd get on my knees, and I'd beg her, and I'd say, Please Momma, I need you. Please Momma, please. Me and Daddy can't do it on our own. She didn't love my Daddy, and my Daddy hated my Momma. He never said it, but I always knew he did. I saw it when he dropped me off at her house; how he didn't wanna leave me with her. I heard people say my Momma was sick in the brain, and that she was a bad Mom, but I loved her.
My parents might be forever separated, but on my face, they are still together. I got my Daddy's flat mouth and my Momma's green eyes. I am proof that hate can create love. I don't feel so loved right now, though. I feel like I'm nothing. I feel like when my Daddy said he loved me, he was lying.
And there it is, my Daddy's hand going for his belt, 'cause I chose to say the worst thing I could think of.
I don't wanna get beat, but sometimes it don't matter what little girls want.
"I want you to think about the way you're speakin' to me." My Dad, the same one that was crying in my baby photo, shouts in my face. "I don't know why you gotta be like this, Harley. I don't know why you gotta make me do this. You were havin' such a good day."
"I'm sorry—" I'm sayin' now. "I'm sorry, Dad."
"You shoulda thought about that before you started bringing this shit back up again. After this, never again, okay?"
He pulls me down into his chest, yanking the back of my shirt up to the base of my neck. I wait for the whip, and the burning sting afterwards.
I can take it. I'll just close my eyes and wait for it to be over.
But before it can come—
"Woah! Hey!" A man's shout. "Hey, hey! Stop!"
The whip doesn't come. I can catch my breath.
Under my Dad's arm, the one that's in the air, poised to beat me, I see a man in the doorway. I almost can't make him out, but there he is — It's officer Shane. The room seems to slap him in the face, like he can't believe what he's just walked into. He's scared to step inside, in case the moment breaks and my Dad chooses to beat me, anyway. Shane's a bastard cop, and it's his job to save people. I never thought I'd be needing saved from my Dad. I still don't think I need saving. I brought this on myself. I wish he'd go away, so it could be over with.
My Dad stands up, his whole body clenched with muscle ready to punch.
"I'm gonna ask you put that down, man." This is the first time I'm hearing Shane's police-man voice. "And to step away from her, okay?"
I feel embarrassed.
I'm kneeling on the floor, grabbing onto the side of the sofa, tryna hide myself again. I don't belong here. I don't want Shane to see me like this. I wanna be the little girl he caught frogs with, not a ball of hurt and tears. Suddenly, this isn't a games room anymore. It's a wolf's den, and I got two of 'em right in front of me, circling each other, ready to bite. I scuttle further into the corner, like if I shrink myself enough, I can just disappear into the floor.
"You ain't askin' me shit, officer." Dad whispers, real nasty. "Ain't no rules, no more. Not so tough, now."
"I'm not gonna ask you again, man." Officer Shane warns, stepping very slowly into room.
He moves toward us, inch by inch, like a man inside a lion enclosure.
"You don't gotta." Dad spits. "Door's right there."
"You're hittin' on little girls, now, Daryl." Shane huffs that mean laugh again. "Sorry, buddy, but that's my business. Come on. Step away."
If Shane had his gun in his holster, his hand would be on it. But we left all our weapons in the bedrooms before dinner. He stretches his fingers; tilts his head. I realize he don't need a gun. He's gonna fist-fight my Dad if he don't do what he says. My Dad, sensing this, chucks his belt on top of the broken puzzles, and stretches out his fingers, too. They're one wrong word away from beating each other to a pulp.
I wanna beg 'em to stop, but my voice is burrowed somewhere deep inside my body, and I can't reach it.
"We don't have to do this, Daryl." Shane's half-way into the room, now. When did he get that close?
"Sure we don't." Dad snarls. "You gonna hit me? Go ahead."
Shane shakes his head. "That's not somethin' I wanna do, man. But you know I will. Step away."
A hiccup I didn't give permission to leave my mouth cuts through the room. Shane glances at me. I don't know who I'm supposed to root for.
"'Step away', huh? Step away from my own daughter?" My Dad scoffs.
Shane glances from me to my Dad, and I can see him start to realize that this angle won't work on my Dad. He holds out his hand. Something about the way he's looking at me is saying, You don't have to be afraid, but I am, and I don't wanna move. I feel like this is my fault. I watch as he flicks his fingers a little, brows raised. "How 'boutchu come over here, Harley, huh?"
Dad blocks me with his body before I can even think about it. "Hey, don't you fuckin' speak to her."
His eyes are back on my Dad. "Just tryna do what's best for everybody, here, Daryl."
My Dad cracks one of his knuckles. "Nah. Nah, I don't think you are. You got it all twisted."
"Don't think I do."
"Yeah?" Dad goads, and every second, I wait for one of them to swing. I can't stand it. "What is it you think you walked in on, then, huh?"
I think my Dad's waiting for the swing, too, 'cause he's so confident that he'll win that he wants officer Shane to try him. He wants to punish him. He wants to show him what happens when you insult a Dixon, 'cause protecting the name is more important than protecting his own body. I think about the way my Dad busted Rick's cheek; How Ronnie's Momma ain't recognise him when my Daddy was done with him.
Shane must be thinkin' the exact same thing, 'cause he starts goading my Dad right back.
"I think I walked in on you beatin' the shit outta your own kid, first of all." Shane shrugs, like it ain't his fault it's fact, and he keeps going when he notices my Dad's breathing get heavy. He's enjoying this. A smile splits his face. "I think we been worrying 'bout Jim this whole time, we been worrying 'bout the wrong man. How 'bout that? You wanted us to be so focused on him, we forget about the real monster."
"That right?" Dad side-steps Shane when he reaches the edge of the coffee-table.
"Sounds right to me, man." Shane says. "Lemme ask you this, Daryl. What is it you think I walked in on?"
I wonder where everyone else is. I wonder if at any second, one of them is gonna walk in.
"It don't matter what I think." Dad shouts, suddenly, and I shriek like I've been struck by the belt. "It's my damn business. It's my damn daughter."
"Yeah, I betchu wish it was." Shane huffs out a chuckle. "Don't want your secret gettin' out, right?"
Shane's like a wriggly little worm, needling my Dad where he don't wanna be needled.
My Dad's patience finally runs out.
He rears back to swing at Shane's head, and his fist is caught and twisted, and I hear Shane grunt in pain, and this is it, so I close my eyes—
Wait.
My eyes are open. That don't make no sense. Why is it so dark? Why can't I see?
I realize that the fight has stopped, and I feel like we've all forgotten about it and are waiting for something to happen.
There's a single murmur throughout the room.
"Was that the power?"
Author's Note.
Cliff-hanger! Mwahahha.
So, obviously, the last scene in this chapter is pretty brutal. I'd like to share why I made the decision to have Daryl act this way, because it could be a shock for some.
For starters, I think it's plausible for a number of reasons. Merle being a bad influence on Daryl, his unhealed childhood trauma and how that affects how he parents his child, and his unhealthy habit of bottling up his emotions, etc.
It's not pretty, I know, and I kind of hated writing that scene, but that brings up my second point. For the sake of the themes and arcs I want to give this story, it was necessary. This story just couldn't exist if it didn't have this scene. I've got, like, three different key subplots linked to it. Maybe you can even guess what they are, because two of them have been hinted at/set up already. They're only going to get more prominent from here on out.
So that's the explanation for anybody who wanted or needed it. You'll see all this play out in the coming chapters, anyway, but I just wanted to provide this in the mean time. :)
Rant over! Phew. Everybody take a sigh of relief.
On a more positive note, everything else in this chapter was a total joy to write! These poor guys deserve some happiness 😌
Hope you enjoyed reading, and as always, please consider sharing your thoughts! Sending love :)
#child abuse#the walking dead#twd fanfiction#twd#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon daughter#daryl dixon fanfiction#daddy issues#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#parent daryl dixon#rick grimes#fanfic#ao3 fanfic
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Here we go again...
I'm going to echo what I said on Twitter about "The Big Three" post on my blog since this is where I feel safe speaking up. I'm very sorry I had to direct it at Valhalla who have been Melissa/Carol/Caryl fans' biggest ally on social media up to this point, even using #TheBookofCarol tag to let us know they see her as the main protagonist that she is. I'm also very sorry that as of today, we've reached the two-year mark since the news of the original spinoff's cancelation and this fandom still has to fight for the respect that they and Melissa herself have more than earned. Again, this is why we need a new showrunner with the intuition and authority to change the messaging on the show and on SM, so that Caryl fans not only feel safe, but also eager to watch, pay for, and engage with new material.
I saw that Valhalla acknowledged Carylers' complaints on their post. I wasn't expecting that. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think any other official account has ever put the needs of the fans over their own need to save face, so I respect and appreciate that. The comments were filling up with voices from other parts of the fandom trying to give Valhalla an out, but it's easy for them to ignore or in some instances mock the issue because their favorite character is represented and they get the satisfaction of a character they hate being left out and her fans being upset about it. It's easy and probably fun for them to accuse us of throwing tantrums, invalidating a very real source of pain for many of us.
There is a long history of fandom bullying and ageism directed at Melissa/Carol/Caryl and their fans to the point of many people, including Melissa herself, having to leave SM. The other factions claim we're a minority, but in reality we're just less active in public spaces because we're made to feel like we don't belong. Caryl fans are very much like the characters in that way and unfortunately other fans and other official accounts take advantage of that.
What happened exactly two years ago has broken our trust and our spirits even more. A lot of us are teetering on the edge of leaving because we're tired of being gaslit and strung along. We're vulnerable and we have triggers. In order to keep engaging with TWD content, we have to feel like its worth it, which means we need to know that the show and everyone affiliated are meeting our needs: that Melissa and Carol are acknowledged for the HUGE impact they've had in the story since S1, not how much they are marketed, and that Caryl is treated like a valid ship.
We need strong leadership for that. Valhalla is a female-led account, so they have the authority to tackle the issues that the actresses and their female fanbases face. A female showrunner would help with that as well. TBOC is fast-approaching. The promotion should focus on hyping the core audience of that show, not alienating them further. We deserve so much better. Melissa deserves so much better. Caryl deserver so much better.
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