#and my rising is an internet sensation

[acidblum]

aries sun, sag moon, aqua rising

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance

words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?

The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.

Really, it could have easily been any of the three.

Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.

You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.

Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.

It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.

Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.

You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.

That pipeline got you nowhere.

Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.

To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.

Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.

You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.

It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.

You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.

(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.

Fuck.

The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.

Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.

You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t.

Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”

At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.

You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.

You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.

Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.

Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.

You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.

The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.

Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”

You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.

Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”

A pregnant pause.

“…Care to explain?”

You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.

How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.

It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.

But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.

Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.

In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.

“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”

The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’

And so you do.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.

“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”

You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.

“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”

The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”

“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.

To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.

“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”

“S-sue?” you choke out.

Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”

You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.

“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We��re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”

“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”

You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”

“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”

Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.

Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”

At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”

You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.

“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”

Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”

“Tch.”

You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.

After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.

Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.

You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.

You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”

“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”

You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”

At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”

He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”

As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.

“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”

Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”

That’s what’s bothering him?

You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”

“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”

You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”

You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.

You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.

He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.

And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.

“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

[insomniac4000]

Useless Hotline Crush- George Clarke

George Clarkeey adjusted his headset, a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling under his usual confident exterior. Across from him, Max Balegde lounged in his chair, grinning mischievously as he scrolled through the show notes for this week’s episode of The Useless Hotline.

Their guest? None other than Y/N, a rising star in the YouTube and TikTok world, whose hilarious skits and uncanny impressions had skyrocketed her to internet fame. George had mentioned her more than a few times on the podcast, enough for the listeners to pick up on his admiration and maybe a little more. The speculations of a crush had been building for weeks, and now, she was about to be sitting across from him. George was feeling the full weight of their playful teasing, he knew that Max was not going to let him off easy either and it started just how George had expected.

“Alright, George,” Max said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Are you ready to meet your favorite internet sensation?”

“Oh, shut up,” George muttered, but his cheeks turned pink.

Max laughed and leaned into the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome to the incredibly talented, ridiculously funny, and dare I say, George-approved Y/N!”

The studio door opened, and Y/N walked in with a big smile, waving at the cameras and settling into the guest seat. “Thanks for having me! Big fan of the show.”

“Big fan of you,” George blurted out before his brain could catch up. Max stifled a laugh as George’s face turned beet red. “I mean, uh, your videos. Big fan of your videos. Let’s get you a drink, I know I could do with one.

Y/N’s laugh was warm and genuine, easing some of George’s nerves. “Well, I’m flattered. And honestly, George, you’re pretty funny yourself. Your impression of that influencer with the fake apology? Iconic.”

“Oh, thank you,” George said, his voice slightly higher than usual. “Coming from the queen of impressions, that means a lot.”

Max raised an eyebrow at the exchange, his grin widening. “Alright, enough flirting. Let’s get into it. Y/N, how did you get started making content?”

Y/N leaned forward slightly, her enthusiasm shining through. “Honestly, it started as a bit of a joke. I was in uni, absolutely broke, and my friends and I would mess around making little videos. One day, I did an impression of our lecturer that was so spot-on, they dared me to post it. I did, and somehow it blew up. From there it just kind of snowballed really.”

“Snowballed is an understatement,” Max said. “You’ve got millions of followers now. What do you think sets your content apart?”

“I think it’s a mix of things,” Y/N replied thoughtfully. “I try to keep my humour relatable, you know? Like, we’ve all been in awkward situations or dealt with people who are… let’s say, a bit much. And I love poking fun at those universal experiences. Plus, I’m a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my skits. I’ll redo them a hundred times if I have to, no one needs to see the hours of footage on the cutting room floor,” she laughed.

“That’s dedication,” George said, his admiration clear. “Do you ever feel pressure to keep topping yourself?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N admitted. “It’s easy to get caught up in the numbers and the pressure to go viral. But I try to remind myself why I started was to make people laugh. As long as I’m doing that, I’m happy.”

“Speaking of laughs,” Max interjected, “we’ve got to talk about your impressions. They’re uncanny. Do you have a favourite one?”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, that’s a tough one. I think my favourite changes depending on my mood. But people seem to love my impression of the overly peppy yoga instructor.”

“Can we get a little sample?” George asked, leaning forward eagerly, he knew exactly what she was talking about but it was for the sake of the audience who hadn’t seen anything, plus there was a part of him that was really excited to see her stuff in person.

“Alright, but don’t judge me,” Y/N said, slipping effortlessly into character. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and adopted an overly serene tone. “Okay, everyone, let’s just breathe out the negative vibes despite your life falling apart and breathe in the overpriced smoothie and retreat I’m about to sell you which you will definitely need after this.”

George and Max burst into laughter, George clapping his hands together. “That’s brilliant. Honestly, you’ve got the tone and everything down perfectly.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, laughing along with them. “It’s one of my go-to’s because it’s just so fun to exaggerate. Anyway how do you know how perfect it is? I didn’t have you down as a yoga expert.” George’s face then went red.

“Alright, George,” Max said, turning to him with a wicked grin. “Your turn. Do an impression.”

George groaned, though the smile on his face suggested he didn’t mind. “Fine. I’ll do my influencer apology.” He cleared his throat and put on an exaggeratedly solemn expression. “Hi, guys. I’ve made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment. I’m here to take accountability, even though I don’t really mean it. Please don’t cancel me, because I’ve got a brand deal coming up.”

Y/N was practically doubled over with laughter. “That is terrifyingly accurate. The pause before ‘accountability’ was perfect.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” George said with a wink. “What about you, Y/N? Have you ever had to make an apology video?”

“Thankfully, no,” she said, shaking her head. “But now that you’ve done that impression, I’m kind of tempted to make a parody one. Just in case I ever need it, you know?”

“We’ll co-write it,” George offered. “Guaranteed viral hit.”

Max leaned back, watching the exchange with a knowing smirk. “You two are dangerous together. I can see it now: Y/N and George take over TikTok. The internet won’t know what hit it.”

Y/N laughed. “Hey, I’m down. As long as George can keep up with my filming schedule.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” George said, his confidence returning. “Let’s make it happen.”

The rest of the interview flew by, covering everything from Y/N’s dream collaborations to her favourite TikTok trends. By the time they wrapped up, the chemistry between her and George was undeniable, leaving Max plenty of material for teasing in future episodes.

As Y/N said her goodbyes and left the studio, Max turned to George with a sly look. “Mate, you’re not even subtle.”

“Shut up,” George mumbled, but the grin on his face was undeniable.

The comments had noticed too;

Did anyone else notice how George kept stuttering a little at the beginning like he was nervous?

George finally got his dream guest!!

So we’re all in agreement that George is smitten, right? Can we make this a thing? Because I need them to collab again ASAP!

Max teasing George is literally the only reason I’m still alive. But honestly, George’s soft spot for Y/N is kind of sweet.

Two weeks later, the studio buzzed with the usual pre-show chaos. Today’s episode was one the listeners had been eagerly anticipating: a lie detector test. George and Max had hyped it up for days, promising spicy questions and no holds barred.

As the machine was set up and the cameras rolled, Max rubbed his hands together. “Alright, George, are you ready to expose your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” George said, settling into the chair and strapping on the sensors.

The first few questions were tame. Max asked if George had ever stolen anything (“Yes,” and he passed), if he’d ever lied to a guest (“No,” and he passed), and if he thought Max was the funnier host (“No,” and he failed, prompting uproarious laughter).

Then came the question that made George’s stomach flip.

“Have you ever kissed a guest on this podcast?” Max asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

George’s answer was immediate. “No.” The machine’s green light confirmed the truth, and George exhaled in relief.

Max wasn’t done. “Do you want to kiss any guest?”

George froze, his mind racing. He forced a laugh, trying to play it cool. “No.”

The machine’s red light flashed.

Max’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair, howling with laughter. “Oh my God, George! Who is it? Who do you want to kiss?”

George shook his head, his face burning. “I’m not saying anything. Next question.”

“You’re no fun,” Max teased, but the damage was done. The comments section exploded when the episode went live.

"It’s obviously Y/N. The way he acted when she was on the podcast? Dead giveaway."

"George, we’re onto you, mate. Just admit it already!"

"Max, bring Y/N back and grill George in real time. We need answers!"

George tried to ignore the speculation, but it was impossible to miss. And as much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N’s smile, her laugh, the way she’d lit up the studio. Maybe…just maybe, the comments weren’t entirely wrong.

There had been a couple of messages swapped here and there since the podcast appearance but nothing else, the way Max, Chris and Arthur were going on about it you would have thought they were getting married, but a few messages was more than George was ever expecting.

What he wasn’t expecting however was a message from her when the episode went live.

“Who’s this guy you want to kiss? It’s Isaac isn’t it?” The message teased.

“Why, jealous?” George’s heart thumped in his chest as he sent the response, he was getting really bold now, hopefully it wouldn’t scare her off. He stared at his phone for a while and his heart started beating fast as instead of a message his phone started to ring, why was she calling him? He glanced at the screen and froze for a moment before answering. “Y/N! Hey.”

“Hey, George,” Y/N said, her voice light. “My notifications have been blowing up with people tagging me in the comments of that video and the other one still asking for that collab. I know we mentioned it briefly but I was wondering if you were up for it and maybe we could plan something?

George perked up. “I think it’s a great idea. Your skits and impressions are amazing—I’d love to work on something with you.”

“Awesome. Maybe we could brainstorm some ideas together?”

“Yeah, for sure,” George said. “How about lunch sometime this week?”

There was a brief pause before Y/N replied, her tone teasing. “Lunch sounds nice, but how about dinner instead? You know, make it more of a proper meeting.”

George’s heart skipped a beat. “Dinner works too,” he said, trying to sound casual. “When are you free?”

“Friday night?” Y/N suggested.

“Perfect,” George said, his excitement barely contained. “I’ll text you the details.”

As they ended the call, George couldn’t stop grinning. Max would never let him hear the end of this, let alone Chris or either of the Arthur’s but for once, he didn’t mind.

[oizysian]

XI. LET HER GO

Word count: 1.1k

All Eyes on Me masterlist

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CELEB NEWS

Elizabeth Olsen was spotted, once again, on a 'date' with the mysterious Y/N. Olsen, 33, is married to Milo Greene band member Robbie Arnett, who was in Los Angeles at the time.

Olsen and Y/N were seen getting chummy at an ice cream parlor in New York City.

Not much is known about Y/N, as she seems to be very private despite being an Internet personality. She seems to get along well with the Marvel actress and her co-stars, as Y/N was also spotted hanging out with Brie Larson, better known as Captain Marvel.

•

"Shit."

I bit my lip as I read and re-read the article, again and again as if it would magically change before my eyes. Now, this was bad.

I sat in silence, staring at my phone clenched tightly in my hand. We really fucked up this time. I really fucked up this time.

Maybe if I just ignored it, it would go away, cease to exist, disappear.

My phone vibrated, a text message appearing at the top of my screen. Brie, obviously having seen the article, and god knows how many others, wanted to know what was going on. No wonder she was confused, I had been so adamant about keeping my relationship with Lizzie strictly platonic, that now that the lines were blurred, publically, I had a lot of explaining to do.

I scratched my head in frustration, hoping the sensation of my nails against my scalp would distract me from yet another mess I got myself into. Why did I have to go and screw everything up?

It's just a misunderstanding.

I finally replied to her, and it was true. It hadn't been a date and the flirting had just been innocent fun between friends. Now to explain this to everyone else.

What did it matter what the world thought anyway? Lizzie and I both knew what was going on. Rumors and gossip just came with the territory and it was something I had to get used to.

My phone went dim with inactivity and I sighed. I should be talking to Lizzie about this. She was the married one - she was the one who had the most to lose. Her marriage, her reputation was all at stake here.

The ringing of my phone caused me to nearly jump straight out of my skin. I took a deep breath and checked who it was before answering.

Lizzie.

Shit, shit, shit, okay, I could do this.

I cleared my throat and picked up, waiting a beat before finally speaking.

"Hello?"

"Y/N," she was crying. "We need to talk."

"Lizzie," I was panicking now. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Robbie and I had a fight."

I swallowed roughly, my stomach turning at her words. I could feel the bile of sick rising up my throat as I processed her words.

It was all my fault.

"Lizzie, I-I'm sorry." I was silent as she cried on the line. "I'm sorry."

"I told him we're just friends, but he doesn't believe me."

Of course he doesn't. He would have to be an idiot to ignore the signs of an affair, even an emotional one. But, we weren't having an affair of any kind. We were just very friendly with each other.

"I don't know what to do." I felt helpless.

"Just ... just talk to me."

"Okay." I breathed in. "I can do that. I can talk."

She let out a small, broken chuckle and I couldn't help my heart fluttering at the sound. Even at a time like this, I could still make her laugh - even if unintentionally.

"Where are you?"

"I'm home. I got home yesterday." She sniffled. "I just can't believe he won't listen to me."

"Give it time. You didn't do anything wrong." Right?

"But, it looked wrong. And now my husband doesn't trust me."

The sick that built up in my throat nearly shot out at the severity of her words. I was ruining her marriage by playing games with her. I couldn't do this. I couldn't hurt her like this.

"Lizzie ..." I could feel the tears burning the corners of my eyes, like pinpricks. "I need to go."

"What?" She sounded so small, so hurt.

"I don't think you want to ruin your marriage over someone like me."

"W-what? Y/N, no don't do this, please -!"

"Goodbye, Elizabeth. It's better this way. I promise you'll be happier."

"No, no, Y/N!"

I hung up. I couldn't bare to hear her like that, knowing it was all my fault and that I caused such trouble between her and Robbie. We were just friends. We were.

I brought up my text messages, tapping quickly on Brie's name and typing.

I'm an idiot. I was foolish to think I could be someone special to her. I was foolish to put myself in this position. I ended it. She needs her husband more than she needs me.

It sounded as if we were having an affair. God, it did look bad. I needed time to myself. I needed to get high. I had to forget everything and make all the pain and suffering go away, just for a little while.

What have you done?

I ignored the incoming call from Lizzie, letting it ring until it went to voicemail. I could do this all day if I had to.

I let her go.

My phone rang again, this time it was Brie.

"Hel-"

"What happened?" She cut me off, getting straight to the point.

"We were seen in an ice cream shop -"

"Yeah, I know that part."

I ignored her.

"- and now Robbie thinks she's having an affair."

"Isn't she?"

"No! She-she's not! She didn't do anything wrong."

"But you did?"

"Yes." My voice was small and broken.

"What did you do that she didn't?"

"I ..." What did I do? I wasn't even sure anymore. "I made her -"

"You made her what? See that you're a great, fun person to be around? That maybe you're someone she could trust?"

"It's all 'maybes', Brie!" I was tired. So tired. "Maybe I was just a fun little distraction - who knows!"

"Y/N, you're upset. I get that. But, pushing her away isn't the answer."

"Then what is?! What could be the solution to this fucked up mess?”

"Talking things out."

"I don't want to talk. I want it to go away."

"You're an idiot if you leave it like this." She warned, and I knew she was right. But, Elizabeth's happiness meant more to me than my own.

"Then I'm an idiot."

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp @dorabledewdroop @scarlie-johalsen-blog @annie-ahmelia

[hannahssimblr]

Odd sensation, the tattoo gun. On the internet, they said the forearm wasn’t bad. One of the least painful spots, which is why I try to suppress my wince as the needle buzzes over my skin. 

“It’s more painful when you’re tired or dehydrated, by the way,” says Kwan, the artist, her chewing gum smacking in her mouth over the sound of thrash metal. 

“Right, right. I guess I’m always dehydrated a bit.”

“He never drinks water,” Jonas pipes up from the sofa. “I remind him of it all the time, but he won’t.”

“Everything wrong with my life probably comes back to that,” I grin at Kwan, and the corner of her mouth ticks up. 

“You’re cute,” she says. “Pretty little face. How old are you guys?”

“Twenty,” Jonas says. “At least me. Jude is still nineteen.”

“Wow. Little babies,” Kwan wipes pooling black ink with a tissue, revealing a thin curved line along my forearm. Weird, I think, looking at it. That’s there forever now. Every day until I’m dead, I’ll look down and there’ll be something on my arm. 

“And what brings you to Phuket?” 

“Well, to be honest, Kwan, we came here just for you,” I say. Her eyes flick to my face, and she sighs with resignation. “You’re good, you know that? You’re going to go far. Going to break some hearts.” 

“We’re backpacking,” Jonas clarifies. “Bangkok for a week, Phuket for another, then we’re going to the Phi Phi Islands and Koh Samui. Jude is acting on complete impulse with this tattoo. I think he is probably trying to flirt so that you like him.”

“And the mango,” she says, now delicately inking the leaves. “Is it personally significant?”

“No, I just liked it. Your art is nice. Never thought I’d get a tattoo because I thought they were all, you know, big thick lines and shit, but yours…”

“Thank you.”

“And like, I guess the mangoes here taste really good, so I could say it’s a memento of my time in Thailand.”

Kwan exhales a laugh. “And not too much between your ears, I see, which is good. Otherwise I think you would doom womankind.”

I grin. “God, Kwan, I love when women insult me. It’s my bread and butter.”

The tattoo gun hits a nervy patch of skin near my inner elbow and I hiss through my teeth. “Ah!”

“Too much?” 

Then I laugh. “Yes. No. Maybe it depends, doesn’t it? I hope this is worth it.”

Later, strolling the beach, I take a photograph of my arm wrapped in plastic and send it to my mother. 

Look what I did.  Why would you do that to your body???? 

She gets back. 

Is that permanent??? 

I cackle. 

“What are you laughing at? Did you send that to Astrid?”

“No, to my mom. She doesn’t approve.”

“Oh,” Jonas frowns, as though this is of deep concern. “Doesn’t her reaction disappoint you?”

“No, I knew she’d hate it, and now she’s going to show my dad and he’ll hate it even more. It was the same when I pierced my ears on holidays. He doesn’t think men should do things like that, and whatever.”

“And you like that he is outraged?”

“Yeah, it’s funny. He hates everything I do regardless, so like, might as well lean the whole way in, you know?”

“You should send the picture to your dad.”

“Nah, I don’t really… I don’t, like, text him… or anything like that.”

“Never?”

“Nah. He wouldn’t respond, anyway. It’s better to get a reaction from my mom.”

He hesitates, getting ready to attempt some conversation, no doubt, that I haven’t much interest in having. I feel my defences rise before he opens his mouth. A blanket of emotional exhaustion settling over me. “You haven’t spoken too much about your father before,” he says. “I assumed you are not close, but—” 

“Please,” I say. “Let’s not.”

“But I am just thinking about how—”

“Jonas, it really doesn’t have to be like this. It’s really not a fun conversation to have.”

“Right. It’s just that you’ve even had dinner with my stepfather when he came to visit, and you know all about my father and my half brother and–”

“Yeah, I know. Max was a nice man. It was a nice dinner, but just because you’ve shared stuff with me doesn’t mean I have to share back.”

“But don’t you think since we’ve known each other for months now, and we are friends, that you should tell me something about your family?”

“You telling me personal things doesn’t make you entitled to know things about me.”

“Yes, but just some basic facts. What is your father’s name?” 

“Chris.”

“Christian?”

“Topher. Christopher.”

“And he is American.”

“Yes.”

Jonas leaves space for me to elaborate, and I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. How old I do feel when people ask me about my dad? Twelve, every single time. Twelve, and destroying his stupid rare collector’s book purely for attention. He lost his mind and whacked my face with the back of his hand. Wedding ring rapped across a cheekbone. Was exhilarating to see him display an emotion. I remember laughing on the floor with hysterical glee among the shredded pages. A vindictive little winner. 

“He was born in California. He has four brothers. He studied dental medicine at the University of New Mexico, then he got my mom pregnant and married her.”

Another pause. “I see it was difficult for you to say that.”

“It was fine.”

“He was in university when you were born?”

“Yeah. He was twenty-one.”

“And your mother?”

“Nineteen.” 

“Your age.”

“Yes, my age. Terrible for her, I suppose. I don’t know. She’s fine. They’re both fine.”

He nods. “So you are determined to remain a mystery.”

“I’m determined to enjoy my trip, to be honest.”

“Well, thank you for sharing facts about your father.”

My arm is already sweating under the layers of plastic, beaten by the sun. Kwan said I shouldn’t expose the tattoo to sunlight. Then why did I get this thing? On holidays by the beach, about to spend another two weeks island hopping, and how hot is it? Thirty-seven? Forty? Sometimes my own reasonings are mysterious to me. 

“Let’s do something else,” I say, agitated by myself and everything around me. “What’s next?”

“You just got a tattoo, and now you are already looking for more excitement?”

“Yes, come on, I’m bored.”

“Okay, okay, let’s think of something.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Sturgeon Moon in Aquarius ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

This year’s Full Sturgeon Moon in Aquarius is also a rare blue moon that occurred on 19 August (sorry this PAC is so late aaagh!!!). Following an insane influx of aenergy during the Lion’s Gate, the theme surrounding this blue moon is Perseverance. This period is all about amassing resources and gathering momentum.

I’ve a feeling this year’s autumn (Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius) season is going to be massive and possibly even life-changing for the spiritually awakened ones ^^ You’ve got to be in the receiver mode of miracles and rare opportunities to really notice! Practically all the aenergies now are leading us to a greater sense of freedom to do what we want when we want.

Also, there’s this sense of…a mandate…? That should push Humanity towards liberating themselves from the enslavement of automation and AI. See, technology isn’t necessarily evil, right? Think about how great it is to have the kind of connectivity we have today; how amazing information dissemination has become in this Internet era.

Technology, just like currency, is impartial. In the end it all boils down to how you’re entertaining the evil agendas of evil people using tech for evil purposes. Become aware of your own habits and inclinations if you don’t want to be a fool-tool of the raggedy corporations. In essence, this Full Moon’s Aquarius aenergy is saying: ‘Use tech to your advantage instead of becoming a slave to it.'

‘Don’t be tech’s little bitch; make it your biotch.’

High time you reclaimed your divine birthright to co-create high-quality Reality instead of getting enslaved by tech that seeks to ‘map you out’. This the era you say to yourself: ‘I’m engineering a more prosperous Reality with my clear conscience.’

GNOSIS: The Dark Rise of Brain Rot Content by Moon

deck-bottom: XV The Devil Rx, Gold Astrologer (Simon Forman), Priestess of Ritual

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Pile 1 – Heart Filled with Sweet Colours

t r a n s f o r m a t i o n – Page of Cups

I see that you’ve transmuted very many negative aenergies within yourself, most of all, negative emotions as well as sensations in your body. Seems you were guided to do this by your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides after having experienced an extreme level of suffering—could be emotionally or physically or both. When you arrived at the most extreme end of what you were struggling with, you couldn’t have gone any other way but to turn your situation around by reclaiming control over your own thoughts and emotions, which effectively shifted your directions and decision making.

There’s a really good quote that says this: ‘When a situation is good, enjoy it. When a situation is bad, transform it. When the situation can’t be transformed, transform yourself.’ You had to learn quite a bit and finally chose to do the last. You’ve known more; now you’re wiser; but wise people are sometimes very pure and childlike. And that’s the beautiful paradox of ‘growing up’ with compassion in your heart. You transformed yourself to be kinder and more loving towards yourself and the crazy-ass situations you found yourself in; now, it’s just easier to extend that love and compassion to the world outside of yourself~♪

t r a n s g r e s s i o n – 4 of Swords Rx

Many of you tuning into this Pile most likely have been in isolation mode for quite a while. The aenergy of this FM in Aquarius, namely the ruler of the 11th House of networking, is pushing you towards becoming social again. And this time everything is going to be (or has been) different. You’ll see that not only are the people in your physical Reality a lot nicer and more compassionate (like you’ve shifted timelines) but you’re also more capable of handling the low-vibing monsters that you may sometimes still have to interact with, with more patience yourself XD

Basically, you’re learning or have learnt to operate in society with more ‘tact’ now. You’ve spent a great deal of time learning to accept a more practical conception of ‘good and evil’ in the world. But to you, good and evil isn’t just black or white; you’re a person who’s come to understand the many colours of good and evil when applied in many different situations. This is wisdom, a gift, that not many have yet to grasp. Your ‘return’ to society is for you to expand this consciousness further and wider!

t r a n s c e n d e n c e – 10 of Wands

The vibe of your ‘return’ to society at large is reminiscent of the Gautama Buddha LMAO He returned to his hometown/home and became a teacher for those who weren’t yet awakened to the higher level of consciousness he had worked so hard to attain! So yeah, a ‘modern priest’ aenergy surrounds you very strongly here; although I find that the majority of you tuning into this Pile are actually quite cute XD Idk why I’m getting a strong ‘gamer girl’ vibe from you. You could also possess a strong sense of aesthetic of your own.

You’re a highly spiritually advanced being but in a cute package, is what I’m getting LMAO At this point in time, your communication skills are getting polished and refined, far beyond what you’re already capable of doing. You may want to look where your Mercury is located in your natal chart, what aspects it makes, and check out what you have in your 3rd House, as well as check out what House is ruled by Gemini ^^ The insight will empower you further at this point in time!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Alchemist (John Dee) & Priestess of Intuition

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Pile 2 – Solid to Liquid, Calmly

t r a n s f o r m a t i o n – Knight of Pentacles

Hold up! You’re about to jettison down a new portal of adventure, pretty soon but before that, hold up; planning and a readiness of the mind is very necessary at this moment. This Moon Reading is very tardy so I’m going to be reading an aenergy that’s pretty much already transpired by the time you’re reading this XD More to come for you in the next FM in Pisces PAC regarding this aenergy, OK? But for the most part, I’m sensing that you’re still in preparation mode for something big that’s just around the corner for you.

Just like the liquid in the glass in the pic you’re attracted to, there’s something solid that’s turning to liquid, but slowly and naturally. You’re not being burnt or heated up to melt…you know what I mean? Because melting solid to liquid can be a painful experience for peeps who’ve been through a lot, right? The Universe is gracefully granting you a peaceful time to manifest your Life Purpose in the most natural and pleasant way just yet!

t r a n s g r e s s i o n – 5 of Pentacles Rx

So, enjoy this peaceful time. I sense that it’s possible that a lot of you tuning into this Pile have been SO used to chaos and drama—so used to bubbling madly at 110C—that now you don’t know how to just…be…when no stress, no drama is going on. It could be that you were a dramatic person before. Maybe you were toxic. Or maybe you couldn’t help but be that way because you were simply surrounded by toxic betches! But that’s all in the past, OK?

If you look around and become aware of where you are now, it becomes super clear how far you’ve carried yourself away from all of that low-vibrating Reality ^^v Understand that you’re ‘weaning off’ drama, chaos and other types of ‘addictions’ caused by high-level toxicity in your old Reality. I’m getting that this is the prime time to study as much as possible about ‘surviving narcissistic abuse’ to give you not only knowledge but also validation :D

t r a n s c e n d e n c e – Knight of Cups

Other than just ‘surviving’ trauma, if that part doesn’t necessarily ring true for you, there’s also this sense of just using this peaceful time to readjust yourself to a more spiritually attuned Life. Perhaps some of you are getting into crystals, meditation, healing audio tracks, subliminals and reiki. Maybe there are other ‘spiritual’ hobbies and practices beyond these ones hahah You’ll know if you resonate~ I’m being told that this Aquarius FM really does bring that sense of balance between ‘spiritual practices’ and ‘modern technological living’ for you.

Maybe you’re meant to know more about this (especially if you identify as a Starseed) but a lot of the human qualities that we classify as ‘positive mental states’ are…technology. Things like harmony, peacefulness, positive mindsets, intelligence…all of these are practically technology. There are ways we can trigger such ‘states of mind/being’ by means of…technology. So yeah…Imma leave you with that for now XD

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Green Magus (John Dee) & Priestess of Energy

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Pile 3 – Integrity Just Like Jelly

t r a n s f o r m a t i o n – Page of Pentacles

The other two Piles are very focused on the idea of rest and self-care, but as per usual, Pile 3 is always about going places and learning shit LMAO In this regard, if you’re not physically going places, this is indicating your mind going places through meditation, daydreaming, movie-watching, or documentary-binging. You know what I mean~ This the period you’re enriching your inner world through any means available to you at this moment.

Whilst doing this, don’t forget your water intake, OK? Vitamins and real foods are crucial for you at this moment. Your cells are digesting a lot of Light. Remember that Light is INFORMATION. That’s why Darkness is the absence of information, right? Light is Information; when Information is digested well it becomes Knowledge; when Knowledge is applied well it becomes Wisdom; when Wisdom is put to the service of all it becomes En-light-enment~

t r a n s g r e s s i o n – 7 of Pentacles

Prospering towards wisdom, I’m seeing that you’re currently being taught to be perfectly OK with things taking their sweet time to unfold! If this is the Pile you resonate with the most, you’re literally on the precipice of your grandest Life Purpose yet! Your Life Purpose is big, you know that, right? It could possibly even change the world or perhaps you resonate with having a Life Purpose that revolves around the creation of a Prototype what will alter the way Humans think or do shit~

This either shares a resemblance to Nikola Tesla or Adolf Hitler. This either takes on the archetype of Sadhguru or Teddy Bundy~ Your take LMAO Either way, you’re meant to disrupt your society and scatter it all! But that’s the thing, right? If you’re gonna be a social menace that’s in the service of Light instead of Dark, you’ve gotta learn to keep your INTEGRITY. Because… what was that again? Absolute power absolutely corrupts?

t r a n s c e n d e n c e – King of Swords

‘Nothing discloses real character like the use of power. It is easy for the weak to be gentle. Most people can bear adversity. But if you wish to know what a man really is, give him power. This is the supreme test.’ – Robert Ingersoll

‘It is from weakness that people reach for dictators and concentrated government power. Only the strong can be free. And only the productive can be strong.’ – Wendell Willkie

‘To have intelligence there must be freedom, and you cannot be free if you are constantly being urged to become like some hero, for then the hero is important and not you.’ – Jiddu Krishnamurti

Do you understand your role in the next chapter of your ARC? Not to be some kind of a narcissistic wielder of power but to be a gentle-albeit-passionate reminder for the people, that only they can save themselves from this pathetically enslaved existence of theirs caused by a lack of Integrity.

Got no integrity? Got no intelligence? Go succumb to AI already -__-;

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Gold Astronomer (John Dee) & Priestess of Integrity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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[honeyedmiller]

Dirty Thirty // Pedro Pascal

Hey everyone :') this is my first time ever writing a one-shot/imagine on Tumblr lol, and I've decided to feed into my Pedro Pascal addiction by adding to my delusions and writing this LMAO. Hope you enjoy!

-

warnings: age gap (17 years- the reader turns 30 in this), swearing, smut, brief mentions of daddy issues.

word count: 5.2k

-

synopsis: y/n admits on Jimmy Fallon's talkshow that Pedro Pascal is her celebrity crush, and Pedro turns up at y/n's thirtieth birthday party as a surprise.

"Our next guest happens to be Hollywood's fastest rising star and first-time Golden Globe winner. She's currently taking the film world by storm with her outstanding roles in Labyrinth, Stranded, and Solitaires, please welcome y/f/n y/l/n!" Jimmy excitedly beckons your presence as you made your way onto the floor, the crowd cheering loudly.

You wave at the audience with a gracious smile playing at your lips, giving Jimmy a hug and a kiss on the cheek to greet him. You took a seat on the chair next to his desk, crossing one of your midnight blue-panted legs over the other. This wasn't your first time on his talk show, so you felt comfortable and at ease.

"It's so good to see you again, y/n. You've been quite the busy woman. How are you?" Jimmy smiles in your direction, folding his hands on top of his desk as he turns toward you, offering you an inviting smile.

"I've been great! Just super busy with filming and press tours. It's been hectic but I'm having the best time." You reply with confidence, and Jimmy asks you a few more questions about the shows you've been filming before he changes the subject.

"So, the world has to know-- is a beautiful world sensation like you single right now?" He folds his hands underneath his chin like a schoolgirl that's about to gossip with their best friend. You grinned nervously, never really liking to talk about your pathetic dating life.

Nowadays, people only wanted to be with you for the fame, and you never had any interest in your co-stars. Quite frankly, your schedule was too hectic to even think about dating at the moment, but that didn't stop you from madly crushing on amazing actor and internet sensation, Pedro Pascal.

"Unfortunately, Jimmy, I'm too busy right now for dating. When the time comes, though, I'll welcome the opportunity with open arms." You giggle softly, rubbing your hands up and down your forearms in what suddenly became nervousness.

"Do you have your eye on anyone? C'monnn tell your best pal Jimmy," he pleaded while dragging his words, "It'll be our secret... along with the rest of the world." His wit was enough to make you genuinely laugh, and you shook your head. You didn't mind confessing your crush on Pedro, mainly because you didn't think you'd ever really have a chance with him anyway.

"Fine. I think Pedro Pascal is handsome... not to mention a phenomenal actor." You exasperated, feeling your cheeks become hot knowing that your secret crush wasn't a secret anymore. Oh well.

"He is a very ruggedly handsome dude," Jimmy urges, and you nod in agreement. "Did you invite him to your thirtieth birthday party? I know that's only a few days away and everyone who's anyone is going." You hadn't even had time to think about your birthday or the party because of how caught up you've been with work and press tours.

"Honestly, I've never even met him, so I doubt he'd go," You laughed aloud, mainly to yourself. "It would be cool to meet him, though." Your eyes scan the audience, the lights too bright on stage to see clearly into the crowd of people.

"He's supposed to be a guest on my show tomorrow night so maybe I can convince him to go to your party." Jimmy wiggles his eyebrows, causing you to hit his shoulder lightly with a fake gasp escaping your lips. The audience laughed and cheered at how flustered the thought of it all actually made you, but you brushed it off for now.

Jimmy finally moved on from the subject, finishing off the interview with a fun game before you said your goodbyes to him and the wonderful audience.

-

It was finally the day of your long-awaited party, your best friend helping you get the finishing touches of your make-up on.

"Dude, what was that confession on Jimmy Fallon's show all about?" y/b/f/n inquires. She raises her eyebrows at you as she looks at you through the vanity mirror you were sitting in front of, as she graciously offered to do your hair and makeup. You and her met on a set several years ago, as she was your designated hair and makeup artist, and you two immediately clicked and have been inseparable ever since.

"What, about Pedro?" You rolled your eyes at her playfully, "It's not like he'd ever see it. The man doesn't know I exist." You exclaim, laughing at the foolishness.

Little did you know, that was far from the truth.

"And when he shows up at your party ready to dick you down, what then?" y/b/f/n tosses her hands up in the air, quite frankly fed up with your obliviousness. Your looks were killer and your personality was a ten. She knew any man, no matter the age, would be lucky to have you.

"Y/b/f/n!" You gasped in horror, but something deep inside you ignited with excitement at the thought of that actually happening. It made you squirm a bit in your chair, and you sighed.

"Listen, he may be older, and your crush on him may be projected from your unresolved daddy issues, but make no mistake about it-- you two would be so hot together." She nodded, satisfied with her rhetoric.

You rolled your eyes once more, "I do not have unresolved daddy issues," knowing damn well she was right because in all truthfulness, you did. It's not something you talked about often, if at all, but she knew you too well. "My crush on him doesn't stem from that, at all." You shot back finally, standing up from the chair.

You took one last look in the vanity in front of you, feeling satisfied with the smokey eye look bringing out the color of your eyes in the most sensual way. Your hair was in the most perfect blowout style, framing your lovely features in all the right places. You felt hot.

"Perfect as always, y/b/f/n." You give her a hug, which she graciously returns.

"You know I always gotta slay your looks baby. Now, we're too sober for this shit. Let's get you dressed and let's get fucked up!" She shouts, shaking your shoulders in excitement. You nodded vigorously, ready to celebrate your third decade of being on earth.

-

The party was in full swing and it was packed with some of the most famous faces you've ever seen. If there was a few things y/b/f/n knew how to do, planning and throwing a big party was definitely one of them. You greeted so many people and thanked them for coming, some even bringing presents for you. You felt all the love on your special day, and your best friend made sure of it. You've been working so hard recently, and you needed this to just escape, even if it was for one night.

You were about five shots in at this point, definitely feeling a little tipsy. You were able to hold your liquor well and you knew your limits, so this would be your last one for awhile. You were sipping on a jack and coke, the sweetness of the soda counteracting against the semi-bitter taste of the whiskey. You were standing in a small circle of people that consisted of Oscar Isaac, y/b/f/n, and two other of your co-stars. You were listening in to the group's drunken conversation about TV shows they were currently into, when someone behind you called your name which made you turn your back against the group.

The person wished you a happy birthday with a hug, and you graciously thanked them for coming to the party. That's when you heard the oh-so-familiar voice of the man you've been crushing on for some time now, stopping you dead in your tracks.

There's no fucking way he actually showed up to my party.

Panic started to set in, not wanting to turn around. You felt your whole body get hot, feeling a little woozy.

"Y/n," You heard Oscar's voice call your name, and you swallowed thickly. Fuck. You turn around slowly, trying to keep your cool. Your eyes flickered to y/b/f/n's face, the biggest fucking grin on her mouth. Your eyes moved to Oscar, who was smiling at you with Pedro standing right next to him. Your eyes didn't dare move to Pedro's quite yet. "I want you to meet my best friend, Pedro Pascal. I know you two've never met, so," Oscar trails off, and your eyes snap to Pedro's.

A shy smile spread across your lips, those dark brown eyes making you weak in the knees. You felt like he was literally staring into your soul. Oscar stepped to the side to switch places with Pedro, so he was now standing next to you. His tall stature towered over you, even with you in heels.

"It's nice to finally meet you, y/n," Pedro smiled and stuck out his hand, which you graciously took to shake. You felt electricity surge through your whole body at the touch of his hand, causing you to slightly gasp. Your lips were slightly parted and your breathing became uneven. You shook his hand, finally smiling.

Stop acting like a fucking starstruck weirdo, you scolded yourself in your own thoughts.

"It's nice to meet you as well," You finally squeaked out, "And thank you for coming to my party." A ghost of a smile was on your lips as you tried pulling yourself together. Your eyes scanned over his body as you let go of his hand, causing your mouth to go dry and press your legs together. Luckily you were wearing a floor-length gown, so it wasn't obvious.

He was wearing a dark green suit, which he looked absolutely delicious in. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of you, either, because the way your black dress was hugging your curves in all the right places was quite literally enough to send him over the edge.

He cleared his throat and fixed his collar, excusing himself from the group to get a drink. As soon as he walked away, Oscar and y/b/f/n were both looking at you with raised eyebrows and mischievous grins.

"What?" Your voice falters, being a dead giveaway that your interaction with Pedro had you extremely flustered.

"You could feel that tension from across the room. Damn," Oscar laughed, knowing damn well his best friend had the hots for y/n. "Maybe I should've introduced you guys sooner, since you know, he is your celebrity crush after all." Oscar was full on laughing as he teased you, making you retort with a pout.

"Shut up, Oscar!" You roll your eyes, a pout still evident on your lips.

"Maybe he can finally cure y/n's dry spell." y/b/f/n said slyly, and you felt your whole body get hot once again. It's true, you hadn't had sex in months. You blamed it on your busy work schedule, and while half of it was true, you didn't want to blame your illiteracy of flirting or putting yourself out there.

"You bitch! That was supposed to be our secret. Way to put my business out there." You half-joked, and you were only embarrassed because she was telling the truth. Your body craved to be touched so badly, but your right hand really wasn't cutting it for you anymore.

"What'd I miss?" Pedro rejoined the three of you, but he was being coy. He overheard y/b/f/n talking about your... dry spell. He held a glass of whiskey, neat, in his hand, his eyes finding yours once more. You blushed a little as he took a sip of his drink, not breaking eye contact even once.

That single look alone was enough to make your panties wet. God, this man was so hot. Clenching your thighs wasn't going to cut it anymore.

"Just about work and stuff." You answered him while shrugging, looking down at the marble flooring beneath your feet.

"And stuff?" Pedro repeated, more as a question. Oscar and y/b/f/n exchanged glances, that thick tension between you and Pedro returning once again.

"Hey Oscar, come with me to get a drink." y/b/f/n suggested, and Oscar caught on immediately as he held out his arm for y/b/f/n to hook onto. They both disappeared within the crowd, leaving you and Pedro both to your erratic thoughts.

You peered up at him through your thick false lashes your best friend had put on you, not being able to form a single damn word. The affect this man had on you drove you absolutely insane.

He suddenly smiled at you, raising the glass in his hand so it was just below eye level to you. "Happy birthday, cariña. Salud." He cheers you, clinking his glass with yours. This time, both of you took a sip of your drinks without breaking eye contact with each other.

You're not sure if your sudden boldness came from the previous five shots you've taken, or if it was the unbearable tension between the two of you, but you held out your hand for him to take. He looks down, almost immediately lacing his fingers with yours. You felt heat rise to your cheeks from his touch, loving the way his hand felt in yours.

"Do you wanna, maybe, go upstairs?" You ask him in the most confident way you could muster up.

A look of shock flashes through his eyes, but is quickly replaced with lust and desire. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and gave your hand a slight squeeze. "Lead the way."

Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded, leading in front of him with your hands still intertwined. You knew it was too crowded and people were too drunken to even think of looking for you and Pedro, so you thought this was the perfect opportunity. You lead him up the steps to your bedroom, stopping before the door. You unlaced your fingers from his and opened the mahogany wooden door, stepping inside and he follows suit. You shut the door softly and lock it, just in case.

Your nerves return again as you face him, the full moon beaming into your large-windowed room. The moonlight hit his face perfectly, showing off all of his handsome features.

"So." You began, feeling a bit awkward again. Pedro chuckled at your shyness. He thought it was cute how flustered he made you.

"Do I make you nervous, mama?" He asked, his voice low bedroom voice immediately taking effect. Holy fuck.

You gulped at the pet name, feeling your core heat up even more than it already was. You were pretty sure if he even touched you, you'd orgasm. "Wh-what?" You whisper, losing all of your cool in that moment.

"I said," Pedro steps toward you, towering over you once more, "Do I make you nervous," he leans down to your ear, "mama?"

You couldn't hold it in anymore. You groaned at the pet name, looking up at him pleadingly. He got his answer right then and there, closing the space between the two of you. One of his hands firmly grasped on your hip, the other flush against the small of your back. His brown eyes bored into yours, and you were left wanting, waiting, anticipating.

"Well? What do you want me to do, cariña?" His breath was a mix of mint and the whiskey he was sipping on. He tilted his head, looking at you expectedly.

"Kiss me, please." Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Pedro wasted no time. He closed the distance between you two, finally encapturing your lips with his. You both moan into the kiss, fervor running through the course of your entire being. His kiss was gentle, yet so passionate. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging slightly which caused him to moan into your mouth. He pulled away from you slowly, cupping one of your cheeks while moving his thumb back and forth, breathing staggered.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, searching his eyes for any hint that he wanted to stop. There were none.

"Get on the bed," He demands, his eyes watching you as you moved past him and sauntered to your bed, clad in satin sheets. He smirked to himself as he noticed the sheets. "Fancy." He tilts his head toward the sheets, moving to you. You sat upright on the bed, arms straight behind you to hold you up.

He knelt down on one knee and if your dress wasn't on, he'd be eye level with your core. The thought of that made you dripping wet. You bit your lip as he moved his hands to unbuckle the straps of your heels you had on, kissing you right below the inside of your knee on both legs before he dropped your heels to the floor.

He stood up to look down at you, admiring you laid out on the huge bed.

"My god, mama, you're so beautiful." He rasps, unbuttoning his jacket. You quiver at the sound of his voice, becoming more needy as the seconds go by. He moved himself so he could lean over you, one knee between your thighs. He grabs the fabric of your dress from the bottom, sliding the material up your freshly-shaven and lotioned legs. He stops moving the dress up when it was around your hips, and his vision was now met with the black lace thong you had on, which was now soaked. He looks at you for approval, and once you gave him the okay to touch you, he moved his head down between your thighs.

He started to kiss in between your thighs, lightly biting the same spots he kissed which made you yelp in surprise. Pedro smirked at the sound, continuing the journey of his mouth to reach your core. He kissed you through your panties, making you moan loudly. You were glad the doors in your house were heavy and the music downstairs was blasting, because quite frankly you didn't need nosey people knowing you were about to get fucked by one of the hottest men you've ever laid your eyes on.

Pedro moves his hands to hook into the sides of your panties, tapping the sides of your hips. You raise your hips so he can slide them off of your body. He tosses them to the side of him on the floor, grabbing your hips and dragging you to the edge of the bed. He was on his knees at the foot of your bed, mouth salivating as he took the sight of your glistening core in.

"You're this wet and I haven't even touched you yet, cariña. What am I going to do with you?" Pedro was dragging out the teasing, and he knew you wanted his touch so bad. He wasn't helping his case either, because he needed sweet release from his pants that seemed to get tighter around him every minute that passed.

"Fuck me. That's what you should do." You retort, and that was enough to make him lowly growl and move back down between your thighs. He finally kissed your core and started lapping away, his mustache and beard immediately covered by your wetness. His skilled tongue felt heavenly against you. You couldn't help but start writhing once he pulled his tongue away, sliding two fingers into you. He wanted to see you lose it over his touch, and my god, were you the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

He moved his mouth back down, lapping you up once more. The sound of him eating you out and your moans, which were getting louder, echoed throughout the room. You felt a burning desire in the depths of your core, knowing you were close to a sweet release.

"'M gonna cum, oh, fuck." You cursed aloud, your legs starting to stiffen.

"That's it mama, just for me," Pedro coaxed you, his fingers moving at an even faster pace, curling inside of you. You convulsed around him on his command, your head spinning as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out, your thighs pinching together at the overwhelming high you just experienced.

No one has ever made you come like that.

Though you were still shaky, you stood up and reached toward Pedro to unbutton his shirt. You moved the soft material down his toned, tan arms, admiring the view just as he'd done to you earlier.

"You're so handsome." You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, bringing him closer to you. He smiles softly at your compliment, dipping his head down so his lips met yours. You kissed him with all the passion you held, wanting him to know just how much you wanted him without saying a word. You tasted yourself on his tongue and could feel how soaked his beard really was.

You turn him around and gently push him onto the bed. He stares up at you as you slowly take your dress off, letting it pool around your feet on the floor. You didn't happen to be wearing a bra with the dress, so you were now completely naked.

Pedro groaned in lustful agony at the sight of you, resting his forehead on your stomach as he wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs. He kissed your stomach softly, almost pouting when you moved back from him.

"It's my turn to take care of you." You purred, causing his eyes to widen. You pushed his shoulders down gently, but with enough force to assert some sort of dominance.

You loved being a switch and loved the fact that Pedro was letting you be one.

Your nimble fingers move to Pedro's belt buckle, getting it undone in a swift manner. You unbuttoned his pants, moving the zipper down and he immediately lifts his hips so you can get his pants off of him. He moans at the sweet release from his pants, just aching to be touched by you.

You swallowed thickly once more as you looked down at his briefs, his bulge as clear as day. A surge of confidence washed over you, knowing that you turned him on like that.

You reached up to rest one hand by his head, the other one reaching down toward his briefs. You began to palm him, multiple low groans escaping from his mouth.

"Fuck, I need that pretty mouth of yours already." He whimpered, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You finally decided to stop your teasing and relieve him of his misery. Grabbing his briefs in your hands, you pulled them all the way down and tossed them onto the floor with the rest of your guys' clothing. You stared down at the beautiful man in front of you, naked and clearly unafraid. You were basking in the sight, wondering how the hell you even got to this point in the first place.

You gently grabbed him in your hand, pumping his length slowly. Your thumb ran over the tip, making him hiss in pleasure. You smiled at his reaction as you brought the tip of his length to your mouth, kissing it once, then swirling your tongue slowly-- teasingly.

You ran your tongue down the bottom, going slow enough to have Pedro squirming underneath you.

"Please, y/n," He begged, breathless, "I need to be inside that pretty mouth." That was enough to make your bones jump. Hearing him say your name like that made you want to do unspeakable things with this man.

Relaxing your jaw, you took his full length into your mouth, moving your head up and down at a steady pace.

"That's it, mama, right there," Pedro praises, making you moan against him. "Just like that." His voice was strangled, and when you licked a bold stripe up his protruding vein that was on his length, he gripped your hair tighter and let out a loud moan.

"Fuck, you're so good at this," You picked up the pace, using your hand where your mouth couldn't fit. "Fuck, y/n, princess, I'm close." You felt the tip hit the back of your throat, and that sent him completely over the edge. He cried out your name as he came, feeling the warm liquid shoot down your throat.

You swallowed after he was done, wiping a dribble that got onto your chin.

"That was so fucking hot," Pedro looked at you, breathlessly. "C'mere." You moved up to him and he gave you a rather needy kiss.

"On your knees, princess." He smirked, and you did as you were told. He drank in the delicious sight before him-- your ass up, waiting for him to absolutely demolish you. You got butterflies just thinking about how you'd feel around him.

Pedro stood on his knees behind you, kissing the lower middle of your back before smacking your ass. You gasped at the unexpected contact, but that just made your core clench with excitement. He grabbed onto your hips, steadying you as you felt his length rub up against your ass.

"Are you ready, mama?" He coaxed, fingers digging into your hips slightly. You felt yourself tremble with excitement, barely being able to form any words.

"Yes," you're breathless, anxious and needy. Never in a million years did you think this would become your reality.

You felt one of Pedro's hands leave your hip, taking his length into his own hand as he positioned himself to your entrance. He slowly pushed the tip into you, making you gasp with excitement. You couldn't wait any longer, so you pushed your hips back onto him so he fully sank into your heat.

Groans left both of you, you getting used to his length and him getting used to your tightness. You stayed still for a full second to fully adjust to each other, and then he started to move. Really move.

Your breath almost got knocked out from your lungs as he slid backwards, then came back forward full force.

"Fuck," you gasp, gripping onto the satin beneath your fingers. You grit your teeth with how much he filled your wanting, aching heat, hitting just the right angles as he began to thrust even faster. You started to catch onto his rhythm, moving your hips back with force.

The sound of skin on skin slapping harshly rang throughout the room, moans and groans slipping from both of you. Pedro moved his hand, sliding it up the front of your body, finding its way to your neck. He spread his fingers out, so he had a tight grip on either side of your throat.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He used the hand wrapped around your throat to coax your body upwards, so your back was against his chest. His hot, staggered breaths met your ear, making you moan. He moved his other free hand off of your hip, slipping it between your legs. His fingers started to rub soft circles around your clit, and the stimulation from it all brought back that warm, patronizing heat deep within.

He was absolutely enthralled with the way your body fit so perfectly with him, enjoying the fact that he was going to be the culprit of your undoing soon enough. You just felt so right on him, your pace and movements flowing with him so naturally.

"Fuck, princess, you feel so good," He groans into your ear, his hands simultaneously tightening around your throat and working at your clit faster. You knew you were done for, and all you could do was just let yourself enjoy the ride... literally.

His thrusts started to become sloppy and his breath was so rigid and uneven, he could barely hold on much longer himself.

"Cum for me, mi amor." He groaned, and his voice was enough to tip you over the edge, once more. That white, hot feeling in the pit of your core exploded, ripping through you once more as you moaned his name so loudly, not really giving a fuck if any of the party guests could hear you riding out your orgasm.

He slipped out of you and seconds later, you felt warm liquid spurting onto your backside as a string of profanities left his mouth. You slumped down onto your bed, completely spent and out of breath. You heard him get up from the bed, walking to the left of your room where the bathroom happened to be. He returned shortly after, cleaning up your backside with a towel before laying down next to you.

You peered up at him, brown eyes already looking back at you. He was trying to steady his breath, hand reaching up to move the hair from your face.

"That was," you trailed off, letting your lungs catch up on the air they were lacking, "So fucking amazing." You said timidly, suddenly feeling shy. All that you could think about in that moment was that Pedro Pascal was literally in your bed. What the fuck?

"It was," He chuckled, reaching his hand out to your chin so he could tilt it up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mama. So tell me... now that you've been fucked by your celebrity crush, will you go out on a date with him, too?"

Your eyes widen in horror, feeling embarrassed that he actually heard about your confession. You groan and bury your face in your hands, making him chuckle.

"Of course I'll go out on a date with him." You laugh, uncovering your face. He grins, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it.

You're both so enthralled with each other that you almost don't even hear the knock on your bedroom door.

"Y/n, are you in there? We want to sing happy birthday to you!" Y/b/f/n called through the door, her voice muffled.

"Just a second!" You yell in a panic, scrambling off the bed as you go to pick up your dress. Pedro is slightly amused, watching you slip the long gown back on over your body. He gets up and dressed, only taking a couple of minutes.

"Can you zip me up?" You ask him, turning your back toward him so he can easily access the zipper to your dress. You feel his warm hands trail down your back, sending a shiver down your spine. He zips you up slowly, loving the feeling of your hot skin beneath his fingertips. He kisses your shoulder once you're zipped up, and you turn back around to face him. He looks down at the floor, suddenly noticing your lacy underwear at the bottom of his feet.

He bends down to pick them up, not even bothering to hand them over to you. He stuffs them in the back pocket of his pants, giving you a cheeky grin. He leans down to your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss onto it.

"C'mon birthday girl, let's go celebrate you some more." He whispers, kissing you beneath your ear this time. He spins you around and ushers you to the door after you check your hair and makeup.

You totally look freshly fucked, and quite frankly, so does he. You really didn't care, though, because you were feeling so euphoric at tonight's events altogether.

Best. Birthday Ever.

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 19 | Weirdness in the Walls

Chapter Nineteen | Weirdness in the Walls

For the past two weeks, persistent thoughts continued to nag at the young teen. Everything he did seemed to bring up the most peculiar sensations and odd thoughts. Something about that lunch with his mom continued to bother Parker.

Why did she seem nervous?

Where had that drill bit come from if not from her tool kit?

Did Parker really see a shadow that night when the power in his miniature house started flickering?

The whole thing felt surreal. Confusion clouded every thought and made everything feel off. The entire time, the little boy found himself drawn to the curiosities of the wall.

Parker knew as well as any young boy how houses were constructed. There was drywall and support beams and load bearing walls as well as dozens of cords and electrical connections along with pipes that filled the spaces a normal person couldn’t see. Like the veins and arteries and organs in a person, there was a lot in a house that was unseen.

What else might be unseen?

Mice, for one, were like viruses of the body of the house. They were unseen and could cause a lot of damage when left unaddressed.

But even Parker knew that mice didn’t know how to draw and write.

Try as he might, Parker’s scouring of the internet provided no reference to the sketch he found along the baseboard just inside of the electrical cover when he went poking around two weeks ago. There were no carpentry marks that he could find that looked like the mark he found, though he learned quite a bit about architecture and construction shorthand.

Parker concluded it was either something the previous tenant left or something that was an in-house design for whoever built his family’s home.

Because, deep down, Parker found himself wanting to discount a third option – that someone else made that mark; someone like him.

It was impossible.

Parker knew his condition was rare and that there were practically no reported cases about it. He knew because he spent a lot of time trying to research it on his own late at night when his mom was sound asleep. It was a move of, what he considered, desperation to find someone else to talk to about why he was the way he was.

Being small was hard…

And Parker wished he could talk to someone about it from time to time – someone who was like him who would understand. Someone to compare notes and experiences with.

Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he wanted someone else to be there so he could talk to them.

But the thought of some strange person who was small like him living in the walls sounded like something out of a fantasy book. Parker had heard of stories like the “BFG” by Roald Dahl and “Thumbelina” by Hans Christian Anderson, but those were fiction stories meant for kids.

On the other hand, Parker did exist.

He was alive.

And he was approaching four inches tall now with all of his recent growth spurts.

So… didn’t that mean that those stories could have pulled from a realistic source?

Was it really so far of a stretch to think that these stories might have been pulled from true experiences with someone his size?

These thoughts were keeping Parker awake at night and distracted during the day. It was really bothering Parker. What was worse was that his friends were noticing his absent stares as his mind whirred and worked the same problem over and over. It felt like kneading the same ball of dough as it deflated only to rise again.

Parker tried deflecting the issue continually, making the excuse that he was tired after finals and that he had a bunch of projects he was working on, but it felt dishonest to keep something like this from his friends.

What made it worse was that Parker didn’t feel like he could bring it up to his mom. Her reaction before was enough of an indication that something was off, and Parker didn’t want to bring it up. It felt weird talking to her about it now if he was being honest with himself.

Parker’s friends were really thoughtful and considerate, especially Selina who was calling more frequently to check up on him. It was a nice distraction. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to draw Parker away completely from the nagging sensation that he was missing something – something important.

So, finally, he had enough.

Parker needed to know.

He needed to know why the darkness of the wall felt alluring.

He needed to know why these sensations were infecting his mind.

He needed to know if he was missing something.

So, nearing midnight when his mom was asleep, Parker decided he needed to act.

He forced himself out of bed and pulled on some already dirty clothes, so his mom didn’t suspect he was up when he wasn’t supposed to be. There were a few tools that Parker just felt were necessary that he shoved into his backpack like a spare thumbtack, string, a safety pin, and a spare battery for his flashlight that he pulled onto his shoulder.

Trembling with anticipation, Parker tiptoed out of his little space to the line affixed to the back of the table. It took moments to slide down the line, the fibers making Parker’s slightly sweaty hands burn. Touching down on the ground felt like landing on an alien planet in a dream.

Nothing felt real.

And yet it did at the same time.

Parker approached the electrical cover and heaved a few times before managing to wiggle it free from its place. It slid off to the side and made a slight cracking sound as it fell a few inches, leaving a nice little hole for Parker to slide into.

Once again, the sensation overcame him. The vertigo of the room overwhelmed the small boy while the darkness of the wall beckoned him forward.

This time, however, Parker didn’t resist.

He cautiously hoisted himself up onto the ledge and slid down onto the other side of the wall. Parker hit the ground and immediately found his eyes adjusting to the pitch black darkness in front of him. He couldn’t see clearly by any means, but Parker could better make out outlines of the beams when he was close.

The young teen flicked on the flashlight on his shoulder, readjusting the elastic band he used to keep it affixed to his shoulder and arm, and decided to take an extra precaution to make sure he didn’t get lost. On a nearby exposed nail, Parker fished into his pack and pulled out some of the thread he had placed in his pack and tied it onto the head of the nail.

It was a camping trick his mom told him about so he wouldn’t get lost.

When the thread runs out, I’ll go back. I just have to see.

Parker took a deep breath and closed his eyes before daring to venture forward into the darkness, the light on his shoulder leading the way.

There was something reassuring about this narrow passageway in between the walls. Every towering beam that the nearly four inch tall boy passed didn’t produce the same sense of vertigo that being outside of the walls gave him. The smell of the undisturbed wood between the walls brought with it a sense of nostalgia.

The sense of familiarity washed over him.

But why?

This was only the second time he had dared to peek inside the walls, and this was the first time he ventured forward into that darkness.

Every step felt amplified, like the noise itself of his footsteps could bring down the walls themselves. The thumping in his chest, however, made the little crunch of dust and debris under his feet seem like a whispering wind.

Nauseous and shaking, Parker dared to press forward around the corner and along the next portion of the wall.

Every few inches, Parker paused and looked around for any additional markings or signs of something – anything – that would’ve caused that shadow. Every nerve and fiber of his being felt electrified, buzzing with anticipation. Parker didn’t know if it was fear or excitement that was making his body tremble and shake.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the walls. Probably an hour? Maybe more? Perhaps it was less. Every step further brought curious thoughts and sensations to Parker’s mind that felt familiar and alien all at once. Where were these sensations coming from? And why was it happening now while exploring the weird space between the walls?

Nostalgia was the general sensation that filled Parker, but it didn’t last for long. His nerves were completely and utterly on edge. Every little sound he made by rustling his bag or crunching over long cut drywall made his heart skip a beat.

It wasn’t until he felt a little tug on his line that made his heart jump into his throat. He whipped around and pointed the flashlight back toward the path he just left from. Some weird form of hyperventilation took over his breathing as Parker continued to shake.

Did that just happen?

Did his line just jolt on purpose?

Did something just pull on his line?

“H-h-hello?” Parker called as he dared to take a few steps back along the path he just walked. He glanced down and noticed that there were no footprints behind him. Just the line extending into darkness.

“Hello!” Parker called again, this time a bit louder. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. It was dry and ragged. Fear was starting to take over.

Wait. Calm down. Check your thread. You might be out. That might’ve been the yank.

Parker crouched, not breaking eye-contact with the darkness and the line right behind him, as he reached into his backpack and felt the spool of thread he brought with him. His hands were shaking terribly as he pulled out the cylindrical piece of plastic.

To his complete and utter relief, Parker saw that the little knot he tied in the end was the only thing left on the spool of empty thread. The sigh of relief that came out of him made his shoulders collapse in on themselves as he hung his head in disbelief.

It’s out. That’s all. The yank was the end of the thread.

Parker knew his promise to himself and now that the spool was out he realized he needed to return. While the darkness in front of him compelled the young teen forward, Parker felt his mind beginning to tire and his reasoning return.

He gazed out at the darkness and felt something deep inside him stir. It was the same place in him that flinched away when his mom reached down the pick him up off of the floor. It was the same place that compelled him to climb and jump from high places. It was the same place that urged him to hide when he felt the ground tremble with the footsteps of his mom.

It was some strange part of him that, for one reason or another, wouldn’t be quiet.

It wasn’t logical.

It didn’t make sense.

And that was what Parker decided to believe.

All of those strange sensations had to be because of his condition, and the jumpiness of his mother had to be related to stress from her work.

It had to be.

It was ridiculous for him to believe someone would be living in the walls.

How could they live in the walls? How would they cook and store food? What would the use to sleep if they didn’t have beds?

Also, if they had his condition, wouldn’t they be with someone who could help them perform everyday activities?

Parker chuckled to himself as he hoisted the pack back onto his shoulders and began reeling the thread back onto the spool while retreating back to the original electrical cover. He felt completely foolish that he even considered someone living in the walls, especially undetected.

The drill bit he found must’ve been tucked away in his mom’s kit.

Surely that was the answer.

The stress of finals and his imagination running away with him had to have been the culprit. Deciding he needed a little more sleep and a bit less exciting television and stories before bed, Parker ventured back outside of the walls and shimmied back up the line toward his home.

The bed the awaited him was a welcome sight. So, after slipping off his dusty clothes from his misadventure, Parker slid into bed and let his mind quiet for the first time in the past few weeks.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Perhaps it was better Parker didn’t venture beyond the furthest corner. Perhaps it was best he didn’t look up into the rafters and ridges far beyond. Perhaps it was better the young teen didn’t find what he wasn’t meant to find.

Kers knew it while he walked along the beams. He was on his way back from the kitchen after borrowing some sugar, salt, and a few other odds and ends for his personal stores. It was in that darkness that he noticed a light far below him walking along the walls.

Kers immediately extinguished his own light and followed along the path, realizing immediately that the form below was Parker – the Borrower boy who thought he was a human.

For a while, the experienced Borrower debated on whether or not now was the time to introduce himself to the young teen. He was in the walls after all; and hearing Parker calling out “hello” made Kers stop completely in his tracks as he was terrified Parker might’ve seen him.

Parker eventually turned back and left the relative safety of the walls to return to his home in the human’s domain. The seasoned Borrower watched the young teen inch up his line and vanish back into the dollhouse.

Kers sighed as he crouched and gazed down at the home.

He understood a little of what Parker’s mom must be going through. Parker was old enough to know; but was he old enough to understand?

Parker needed to know the truth, but was it too late? Or was it still too soon?

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

[makima4ever]

Dissonance (2.5)

I HATE THIS SM WHY IS IT SHORTENING MY POSTS? it could be my internet but this IS INFURIATINGG TW WARNINGS: hinted depression, vomiting blood, over all sad boi hours READ AT UR OWN DISCRETION GUYS PLS angst (i promise it gets better over time), amnesia!!! i still suck at writing accents, pls do not bully me!! Ghost x M!Reader 1, 2, Part 2.5, 3 Your gravelly and tired voice broke and cut through the silence like a hot knife in butter with underlying horror behind the meaning of those words. You.. had no idea who they were, as your idle form continued to stand there as the majority of their expressions shifted. They probably already knew, but it was.. in denial? What happened to you?

"Wha' do ye' mean ye' don't know us? Ye've been with us for years, mate!" The mohawk man exclaimed rather intrusively as the loud voice affected your ears slightly as you weren't fully awake just yet. God, did they sedate you are you just this sore?? You couldn't quite fully comprehend and grasp the situation- causing you to rub your own eyes in irritation from the light blinding you. - He was just so.. shocked. At a loss for words as he shook you, trying to see if you'd remember something, well by shaking you over and over made you not only disoriented but rather irked, scrunching your left eye as the tall man yanks the Scottish man away harshly.. "Soap, blood hell, keep your fucking hands off your Lieutenant." 'So that's the name of the man?' You continued to take in essential parts of the conversation as you heard 'Lieutenant'. You were a LT? That shocked you, mainly because all you could remember is being transferred to a new squad and then waking up here. All of this was so confusing to keep track of. "Ghost, he doesn't even remember us! Do ye expect me to calm down?!" Okay, Soap was not having it as saying he was slightly agitated was an understatement at the very LEAST. His eyes were burning holes into the man who was dubbed Ghost. At least you got names which they.. never gave. You had to figure that part out yourself. You constantly stole glances at Ghost, watching them argue and bicker like children. Although, you did acknowledge the tension, you could feel something in your heart and throat as you looked at Ghost and the group, but you had no idea what it was. ..! You could feel something rising to the back of your throat quickly, as you bit on your tongue- staggering back while holding the door frame as the sudden movement across the floor made it audible. Your left hand went to your mouth, holding back something as you could taste something.. metallic? You didn't even notice your knees giving out into a kneel while trying to hold back something. The sensation of large hands held your back and chest as your throat threatened to spill the contents.. The hands were.. comforting. They held this soft warmth which you leaned into while trying to hold back something. Alas, it was not enough as you puked up a mixture of blood and bile as you gripped the doorframe, spewing out an large amount of blood through your hands while desperately trying to cover it. "Someone get a bloody fucking medic! Hol' on, you'll be okay.. Don't fucking stand there!" There was a really loud voice booming as you could hear all the little scuttling of feet and boots clacking against the ground in hasty movement, as you faded in and out of consciousness again. You could feel warmth as your body felt cold, which you snuggled into lightly, uncaring of where it came from as it lulled you to a soft sleep.. " You'll be okay, stay with me luv'. " A/N i hate my life; tumblr stop cutting out my WORKS im gonna have a break down ISTG..

[dipplinduo]

You posted a buncha asks games so hopefully this'll make sense;

🌻

Writing; 1

Character; 23

💚🩵

🥐

(Context: This ask game, this ask game, and this ask game lol)

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@heytheredahlia @jazzymarie1006 @esp3onsol @morganite25 @blazestar0525 @blazefirefox @crystalitecloudie @woolooisineffable @suguaotruther (Okay there are honestly so many others I could tag, I appreciate a lot of you!)

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

Too long for me to copy/paste but you can see it for yourselves here

1. An excerpt of your writing that makes you smile

Two come to mind immediately! :)

Bet You'll Fall in Love With Me, Chapter 2:

Carmine yanked the string of the light switch - it was the only light left that had the room glowed in a warm yellow, and now, it was pitch black in the room.

She was alone with Drayton, under the covers, in a pitch black room.

“C’mere,” he mumbled. 

Carmine exhaled her jitteriness and rested down beside Drayton. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the outline of his face. And…?

How did she notice this now, but not earlier?

Her thumb had mindlessly wandered to the corner of Drayton’s mouth. She propped her knuckles against his jaw as she gently scratched away remnants of toothpaste. Her thumb was moved as she felt the sensation of him smile as he continued to mumble. What seemed like two hunks of tiny metal that laid against the ear opposing his tattoo glistened as a consequence of the dim, bright green light of Drayton's digital clock on the other side of the room. He had gotten his ear pierced, too, it seemed. 

Drayton stayed in place as Carmine dusted off the side of his lip. “Taking care of me?”

“You had toothpaste on the corner of your mouth.” Carmine explained. 

“Mhm. Thanks.” He sounded like he was fighting to stay awake, but then his arms coiled around her and pulled her closer. Carmine instinctively placed her hands against his chest in the sudden, unexpected movement. She had almost expected as much - he was too sleepy for whatever he had drummed up earlier, but he was going to hold her now. 

She didn’t know what to say, but she wanted to say something. 

Drayton spoke first, though, and his hands stroked up against her ribcage. “Are you comfortable?” 

“Y-yeah.”

“Okay, good. Let me know if you wanna move. I’ve never cuddled with anyone before, so…” he trailed.

“You haven’t?!” Her voice was suspended in shock, and perhaps she spoke too loudly considering his state.

“Mhmm.”

“How? Haven’t you been with a ton of girls?”

His voice was raspy as it dipped into his fatigue. “This is more intimate to me than something like hooking up. Same with the date, too. I’ve never been on a date before. But it was kind of fun pretending I had my first girlfriend for the day.” 

N…never? First?

Carmine’s head started to swirl, and she nearly missed the next thing Drayton had said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t go out to eat, though. I know it's what you wanted to do. I hope it wasn’t too crummy of a first date for you.”

He was speaking tenderly, and it had just as much of an effect on her as his crazy, showboat proclamations. The Butterfrees inside of her began to dance again as she sickly entertained a newfound comfort. 

She was so worried about her inexperience - so ruffled up by it. But in some ways, he was inexperienced too.

And he chose to give her what she wanted, despite holding a twisted power over her.

He had this power over her, and yet he...

The craving she had earlier washed over her. She wanted to move past her fears - fears that she was inadequate, that'd she do something wrong. She wanted to follow her desires and reach to him again.

Her hands trembled as she inched closer. She paused to test her confidence, and Drayton caressed up and down her arm after she shifted the placement of one of her hands on the base of his neck. Carmine felt more heat rising to her face as he breathed a grin, and she moved forward to push through the sensation as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck. “I-it wasn’t. I had a good time. And…I’m sorry about the Bewear again.” 

She felt the weight of the entire room draw in on her. She had done it. 

Now how would her bravery get stomped on?

Drayton huffed a laugh as he rested his chin on top of her head, just as he did earlier in the day. “That pokemon really suits you. Adorable but deadly." He paused. "Carmibear,” he dubbed.

Relief crashes into her, and her tired heart was giving out after working nonstop. “I guess…” she grumbled. 

He was making this easy.

A breathy chuckle escaped Drayton’s lips as he squeezed her. “Goodnight, princess.”

It felt so terrifying, so electrifying, and yet...

so

easy.

Carmine sighed, hoping to ease her roaring chest as she nuzzled into the peculiar safety of Drayton's. 

“Goodnight,” she muttered, returning the squeeze of the embrace. 

Ending to A Sugary Sweet Kiss (Oneshot):

Kieran didn’t get what she was saying at all, but she slammed him with a request to have the very picnic they were on now before he could ask for clarification. And how on Earth could he say no to THAT, even if she just wanted to hang out as friends?? 

And now his failure was here to mock him. 

She clearly didn’t know what Applin trades meant, still. She was just being nice, returning the favor. 

Kieran deflated in his defeat - he had definitely lost to the friendzone. He covered his eyes as he felt his eyes start to sting, his chest feeling crushed into bits.

This was hurting more than he thought.

The bright light of the sun blinded him as Juliana pried his hand from his face. He almost jerked, but her other hand had wrapped around his face and held it firmly. Something was blurring into his vision and growing big- 

“Mwah!” 

Kieran felt Juliana’s lips tenderly press into his cheek. Her golden touch lit up everything inside him as his eyes shot open with shock. His mind was swirling in utter confusion as she pulled back. He looked into her starry eyes, but his jaw was dropped to the ground. He was paralyzed, ditsy, and beyond bewildered. 

Kieran tried his best to vocalize anything. ANYTHING. “Wh-wh-...”

Wowzers.

Juliana giggled again - this time more high-pitched and slightly unnerved. She nuzzled into his shoulder and apologized. She was shrieking into him before his eyes, “I’m s-sorry, was that too fast? I can go more slow if you want…”

“M-more slow?” Kieran repeated, still lost in his daze. 

He almost wanted to punch himself to test if he was truly awake. 

She just kissed me! She just kissed me on the cheek! Am I dreaming?!

Juliana started again, meekly, “Y-yea-”

Kieran finally had a jolt of energy, and he expended it all at once. He twisted around and grabbed her by the shoulders, and blurted out his next thought in a blinded fury, “Do you kiss all your friends' cheeks?!”

Juliana’s face twisted up in perplexion. “Wha-? Why would I do that?”

“You just-!” Kieran couldn’t even finish the thought. His entire face felt piping hot - he must be so red…

She had sent him entirely into overdrive - he couldn’t think right, he couldn’t see right, he couldn’t feel anything but that KISS. His heart leapt up to his throat and climbed out of him - it spilled out all over everything at once as he stumbled over his words. 

“B-because! Y-you’re kissin’ mine! And I just can’t, Juliana, I can’t! Be friends anymore! I like you TOO dang much, it makes my head spin! And I just wanna make ya’ mine forever - no one else!” 

As Juliana’s eyes widened, Kieran felt his own do the same. But the damage was already done, he might as well double down since he was ripping the band-aid off. 

He grabbed her hands and clasped them together, then hunkered down within them and dropped his head to the ground. He let everything pour out of him all at once, every gallon of feeling inside of him crashing waves that emptied each bottled up part of him. 

“I know ya’ probably don’t look at me like that, but I really, really, really do like ya’ so, SO much! So…” he huffed and squeezed her unflinching, still hands, then spoke more calmly as he caught his breath, “So if there’s any part of you that just wants to …give me a chance… I promise I’d try really hard. I know I’ve messed up so much with us, but you are everything I adore and more, and just, i-if you don’t feel the same way-”

“Kieran.” 

Juliana’s tone cut through him like a dagger, he was crashing down hard. Nothing could prepare him for the rejection that was about to tear him apart. 

Juliana peeled away at his barriers once more to face him directly - and a part of him almost wanted to be immovable. But she could get anything she’d want out of him, even if it meant…well, this. 

His face was twisting up and he was trying his best to hold himself together as her kind eyes met his. 

If you’re nice to me when you let me down, this might just make things worse.

“Kieran uhh, we’re already on a date?” 

Kieran shot up.

“WHAT.”

“You…didn’t know?” Juliana was covering her own mouth now - unfair. 

And this time she was definitely trying not to laugh at him!

“Wh-wh-” Kieran felt himself spazzing about and glitching like his Porygon-Z, “Since when was this a date?!”

“Since I asked you out, after you confessed to me?!”

Kieran’s mouth opened, but Juliana cut him off as the color of her face started to match his own. “Y-you did confess to me, right? With the Applin?!” 

“I-YES, BUT…h-how did you know if you didn’t?!”

Juliana shot up closer to him, almost crawling into his lap. His arms caught hers out of reflex, “Penny told me! I thought you meant…!”

This was a dream.

“I DID…BUT!” 

“But what?!”

There was NO way…

“But…I! I didn’t ask you out the right way!” 

Juliana’s fists balled up as her own face contorted in ways he hadn’t seen before. “I asked you out, Kieran! This is a Valentine’s Day date! S-so, will you-?”

Kieran closed the distance between himself and the beautiful girl before him - he felt a gusting rush of an all-time high. He was confident now, confident for the first time he had ever felt about something. It was a feeling he thought he had once before, but it wasn’t meshed with a desire to win or conquer. It was meshed with a desire to love.

He crashed his lips against hers, but eased into a gentle kiss as she kissed back and cupped her hands around his face. He pulled back a moment later, leaving Juliana breathless. He almost felt kind of bad - he must’ve stolen her breathing away from her in the heat of the moment, but…it was worth it. 

Her hands were still on him, and he rested his on her own. Kieran breathed into their shared air, then looked her in the eye with all the love he could finally start to express. 

“Will you…be my Valentine?” He fought a stutter to convey his question, “A-and my girlfriend?” 

Somehow, he nearly fumbled his request anyway.

He was almost tugged by his self-deprecation again, but then she huffed out a magical laugh. Kieran couldn’t help but grin wildly.

“Yes. Of course. Now eat your cookie.” 

💚: one million dollars. for you.

omg I'd love this. I could write for forever :')

🩵: you are amazing and i love you /p

Awww! Thank you!! <33

[serenaoffaerun]

WIP Wednesday

What do we do when the power is out from a 15-minute wind storm and we're sitting in the dark on our tablet with internet powered by a generator? We write!!

I'm supposed to still be on a break for a couple more weeks working on an art commission, but seriously. What am I supposed to do. 😆

And you all reap the rewards of the next chunk of chapter 4 of the Consequences series (started by @alpydk), which now has a name! I present to you, the middle 1/3rd of:

Chapter 4 - Promises

(Pic by me - I'm limited in my choices because I'm on my phone)

After she'd gotten her small camp deconstructed and bathed herself in the river, Tav realized that, in her excitement, she'd forgotten about Gale's letter. She retrieved it from her pack, sat on a nearby boulder, and took a deep breath.

Her hands were slightly trembling with excited anticipation, a sensation much preferred over the anxious jitters that had accompanied her up until now. She opened the envelope and immediately breathed in the scent of mahogany and lavender. Closing her eyes, she smiled so wide her face practically ached. In mere hours, she'd be able to bury her face in Gale's neck and feel the warmth that would usually pair with that gloriously comforting scent. 

Tav kept the grin on her face as she read:

(NOTE: the complete chapter will include a graphic of this letter, just like the ones in chapter 3).

Taviela, My Love,

Words cannot express the joy and anticipation I feel at getting to finally hold you and kiss you properly this evening. To treasure you as you deserve. To comfort and be comforted by you. Would that I possessed the power to make time move faster…

Having said that, I realize I may be assuming too much and wonder if I'm placing unreasonable expectations on you. We are coming back from the deepest depths of pain and heartbreak by each others’ hands. I'll admit, I feel a little out of my depth. I'm unsure if the best course of action is to throw ourselves at each other to make up for lost time, healing and strengthening our bond through physical affection, or to hold back, rebuilding the structure that is “us” brick by brick.

As for my part, I have no doubts, no hesitations. I want to hold you beneath me, caressing your hair and whispering words of dedication and adoration for you while looking into your eyes, making love to you until the sun rises. 

But the last thing I want to do, my darling, is pressure you or make you feel like you're being thrown into the deep end unwillingly. 

It would greatly put my heart at ease if you would set the pace. I'm handing you the reins for the week, starting tonight. If you want us to lose ourselves in each other all night long, I'm ready and willing. If you want me to just lay with you, fully clothed, talking with you and hold ing you until you fall asleep, I will take my leave quietly as you slumber. If you just want a forehead kiss and a smile, I will wait for more until you are ready, even if it takes us years. I'm not walking away this time. Never again. 

I will not squander this second chance we've been given, and I know you won't either. We will navigate this road together, one step at a time. I promise you now: if you ever need a step backwards to breathe and regroup, it will not sway me. If I see us starting to spiral, I will not be afraid to call for a pause so we can get our heads on right and figure out how we need to communicate. Everything will work out this time, I truly believe that. 

On another note, I'm sending this letter with Tara because I believe you and she could use a bit of a chat ahead of our time together. She has come a long way towards understanding our situation, and I believe if she sees you and hears your words directly, she will have more peace of mind. You are both immensely important to me, and I would honestly rejoice at hearing my favorite ladies cackling like hens again at my expense. 

I have some things to take care of before this evening, so I will leave it here for now. When you arrive at The Yawning Portal, you can tie up your horse in the barn and come right up to room 3. The barkeep already knows to expect you.

I will be there waiting for whatever tonight has in store, alongside a hearty meal, a warm bath, and open arms, should you be ready for them.

Safe travels, sweetheart. I love you, and I will see you soon. 

Gale

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tav once again clutched the letter to her chest, giggling and kicking her feet like a smitten schoolgirl. Folding up the letter and stuffing it down her shirt to reread later on the road, she grabbed her pack and swung up on her horse. She smiled again as she grabbed the reins and turned towards Waterdeep. Not the only reins she'd be in charge of today, apparently. Yet she already knew how she was going to handle the next pair she'd be given…

[panelshowsource]

could you make a post about all the books from comedians you own/have ordered and which are your favorites I want to buy all of them but don't know where to start ++++++++ would love to know if you know of a way to order a signed copy of David's book if I don't live in the UK

you know, in a stroke of what may be relevant information, i'm actually an editorial director by day and even used to be a literary agent here in nyc — none of which is obvious on account of my billion rushed typos and...just...general existence :) (i promise i'm supremely carefully handed in my editing!!! and have a lot of resources, at my job hahahahaha oh god maybe i shouldn't have mentioned this!!!) — but i'm really no book critic and have no idea how my tastes stack up against what a lot of you are looking for. i'm happy to share some of my general, poorly articulated internet thoughts but it may be more worth checking out goodreads or talking with others who have more experience with autobiographies (which a majority of these types of books are)!

to begin with a disclaimer, one of my friends texted me recently, "why do you only watch sad movies?" i love sad films, sad music, i love to cry, catharsis, sentimentality which is always a little self-indulgent. it's a bit ironic, because this is a comedy blog and you guys know me as someone who loves to find things to laugh about and i fill my life with so much silliness through his huge, life-long hobby, but, all the same, that is only one side of me, i guess. i'm saying this now because you're about to hear me talk briefly about a few somewhat-to-incredibly sad books and be like "oh i didn't know this what i was getting into" 😅

books i do recommend:

just ignore him by alan davies — this isn't a book review but i am self-conscious about just how i describe this book, because it's so sensitive and i carry a lot of respect for alan. at the time of publication, alan actually didn't want any of the press to know and/or discuss the most tragic elements of the book, so readers wouldn't be influenced in any direction before confronting it themselves. (it's okay to talk about now of course, and anyone should know there are major trigger warnings for death, child abuse, sexual abuse, and pedophilia.) it is a sad book about his earliest years: the complexities and nuances of male power and manipulation, of unimaginable loneliness, of a lost child. alan said it wasn't cathartic to write—that is was indeed very painful—but the vulnerability, the commitment to shirking himself of the painful silence he endured for most of his life, is exceptionally moving. alan's writing can be quite thorough, even flowery, in creating vivid places and images, so so much of the heaviness feels piercing and even disturbing. if you read other comedians' books, a decent majority of them are written in the style of standup or, say, a ted talk — with performance in mind, specific structures and beats that mimic how they'd tell these stories on stage. i would argue this is quite different to that, that while the writing is in a style and structure that benefits being read aloud this is a very different alan to alan the performer. and, very honestly, i'm really not an audiobook person, not to mention listening is a wholly different experience to reading — but the audiobook for this is phenomenal: alan narrates and, while of course it's his story so he'll tell it best, he is a very gentle, thoughtful storyteller. this will be you by chapter 4:

moab is my washpot + fry chronicles by stephen fry — the first and second of his three autobiographies covering some of the most sensational times (stephen is willing to admit) of his childhood and teen years + his rise to fame through the cambridge footlights. these are good reads for 1) stephen fry fans duh and 2) people who can enjoy the inspiration of auden, waugh, wilde, wodehouse, quintessential english writers who inform the foundation of stephen's relationship with literature and appreciation. stephen is painfully honest — and often sorry for it, apologising for what he perceives to be his shortcomings — and you can't help but feel, even early on in the first book, that his view of his own world is somehow even more subjective than everyone else's views of their own worlds. maybe it's because he's so judgmental, maybe it's his oscillating mental health, maybe it's the shocking thrust with which he was confronted with the wideness of the world...i'm not sure, but stephen's life through stephen's eyes is so very stephen-y. i think that's why we love him‚ though i can see some people loathing the less admirable sides of him, which he does show, so don't read this if you want to maintain some image of him that helps you cope or keeps you perfectly entertained. if you're not british, the fry chronicles is an especially good read to scratch some of your anglophilic interests (lotsss of namedropping and backstage chat)!

delicacy: a memoir about cake and death by katy wix — one of my recent faves and another book that isn't thoroughly funny. told in 21 vignettes either centered around or vaguely related to cake, katy talks about her school life, grief and loss, self-esteem and body image, misogyny — in ways that are just...matter of fact...opposed to lessons learned or things she's working on through therapy. she's accepted a lot, but she's also afflicted by a lot to this day; she's capably honest about where her reality stands. for this reason, it can be a bleak and certainly very raw read. i listened to the audiobook for this one, which was nice, but i much recommend the actual written book as the vignettes are in different formats (short story prose, letters, email exchanges) that often anchor time and place, intention, even the little peeks of light of comedy. katy's writing is very lovely, both my heart and mind were touched.

back story by david mitchell — a mildly vulnerable, moderately insightful, and quite humorous exploration of david's up-and-coming years. i really appreciate the premise — due a bad back and sciatica, he begins taking very long walks every day, and these walks trigger memories and anecdotes as he passes certain places — that really doesn't come off as a gimmick. it's a very easy read (or listen) and what i'd consider an uncomplicated, unproblematic bio, but it would be difficult to enjoy if you're only a casual fan of david mitchell or only like him in his most recent dad years, as it was written in his peep show heyday and is so much about those years of his life, his relationship with robert webb, etc. a good intro-to-the-genre book and the very first britcom book i read way back in 2010!

i also really enjoy graham norton's books — especially for the goss, but he's a great writer and his debut fiction novel got quite good reviews! — and tim key's books of poetry, though you really need to be a fan of tim key to read tim key :')

books i do not recommend:

before & laughter by jimmy carr — this book is much less of an autobiography (details are scant and anecdotes are few; it's cute when he refers to karoline as "my girl") and much more a collection of 1) jimmy's interpretation of contemporary comedy and what it means to be a comedian, and 2) how that journey, and his evolving attitudes, shaped him + became advice he would offer to others. this is why he calls the book adjacent to self help & motivational speaking. i don't think it teaches you anything new about him — literally or as a writer — so i don't recommend reading it, though the audiobook (where he's truly performing the writing like a ted talk) is an easy listen. a lot of people will not understand that jimmy is overwhelmingly sincere in regards to all of the topics and personal philosophies the jimmy nearing 50 espouses. he's someone with very studied, thorough personal philosophies (if you've seen him on podcasts talking about his life and career then you'll know just what i mean) and he explains them deftly, but they can feel a bit...how should i say this...flat to people who have heard a lot of it before, in hollywood movies or from their own parents or wherever. he didn't write this just for another stream of income — he is passionate about these conversations and that counts for something. overall i already knew a bit about the guy and didn't need this.

my shit life so far by frankie boyle — i have never read one of frankie's fiction novels (crime is really not my thing, so someone needs to let me know if richard osman's book series is a smash because i'm only going to check them out if i'm convinced to), but as a long-time fan of his, knowing how much of a wordsmith he is, and how intentional he is in everything he says, i was surprised by how dull i found this. his shit life was just that — uninteresting, meandering. his anecdotes may have worked better aloud than on paper, but they didn't grab me. you learn a bit about his young adulthood, but like jimmy he's intensely private and i could feel that distance between us even while reading an autobiography. it didn't work for me, super sad about it :(

can everyone please calm down? by mae martin — instead of criticising this book, i'd rather just make a disclaimer or two. if you are already engaged in queer discourses and dialogues, you are not going to learn very much from this book. both the descriptive writing and presentation of research is "accessible" to the point i'd call it more adjacent to YA than adult literature; if you prefer more creative, complicated, and/or signature writing styles, this book is not for you. if you are a big fan of mae martin and would appreciate an overview of their journey on the identity spectrum (going so far as to even rejecting it, in some capacities) in one place, then this may be convenient — but even then, at this point, it's somewhat outdated. imo a well-intention skip.

phil wang and tom allen are two more i think don't convince me with their writing, but i'm still making my ways through a couple of books and could probably talk more about this later!

i have never made this kind of non-fiction bio a priority on my long reading list, so i still have a lot of exploring and catching up to do, but i'm finding that i do prefer the books that explore the events of comedian's past as well as those that walk the reader through experiences in the comedy & tv industries. there are a lot of books about mental health and identity, which may be more of what many of you are looking for (sara pascoe, fern brady, jon richardson, and more).

okaY PHEW SORRY i always type too much 😒

first, as for david mitchell's new book, you can order it signed from waterstones as they ship to the usa — and it's currently half off!!!!! if you want to buy it unsigned from a usa retailer amazon is cheapest and target & bookshop are the cheapest non-amazon options :) an audiobook is coming out as well, so i do believe i will be able to add that to googledrive before too long, but no guarantees on a good time frame!

you can go here to download any of the ebooks & audiobooks i have on my googledrive!

[insomniac4000]

I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha

Fellas to lovers

1517 words

Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.

“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.

"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.

"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."

 "We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.

"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."

"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked

"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."

"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.

"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."

"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.

"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."

"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.

"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."

“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.

“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?

“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.

"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."

"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.

"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."

"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled

"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."

"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.

“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.

“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.

“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.

“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.

“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”

“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.

“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.

“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”

“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.

“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.

“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.

“Nothing really.”

“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.

“I’d love to.”

[mariacallous]

Squander enough time on TikTok these days and the signs of creative deceleration are everywhere.

“Try-hard” slang is spreading. Competitive aging is a thing. Classic episodes of The Sopranos are fed to you in polished 25-second bites. Last October, the 2004 cult teen comedy Mean Girls was portioned into 23 parts to unanimous celebration. (Did I mention pirated content is on the rise?) Everyone, it seems, wants to revisit the world as it was two decades ago, of all places, on the so-called app of the future.

Relics of the New Millennium are again in vogue, and especially on TikTok, where you get the sense that everyone is chasing the fantasy of youth. Except, it’s just that—a fantasy.

“I keep getting served TikToks on [high-yield savings accounts] and 401ks,” one of my colleagues commented in Slack recently. “I believe the olds are in charge now.”

She’s right, of course. Millennials are currently outpacing Gen Z in the adoption of TikTok in the US, according to Pew Research Center data, which shows that the app's 30-49-year-old demographic is growing faster than its 18-29-year-old user base.

Such is the way on the social internet; still, the enshittification of TikTok continues.

One tell-tale sign of late-stage social media is the endless vomit of nostalgia regifted in pretty packaging. Tastes have aged, and the user experience is no longer one of giddy revelation—at one point, the only reaction the app seemed to generate among new users—but one of odd comfort.

It was inevitable, of course. Seasons change, apps pivot, and users learn to chase the adrenaline of the future through new and exotic machines of possibility.

When TikTok gained mass popularity in 2020 during the first outbreak of Covid-19, it signaled a reorientation of where we place value. Tastes were being reengineered. The app’s offerings were as robust as they were confounding: dance challenges, beauty recommendations, racial appropriation, expert sleuthing, and more fed its algorithmic churn. It wasn’t just endless but entertainingly so, earning a reputation for setting trends and establishing itself as an unofficial headquarters for Gen Z influencers—and, because the internet is a repeated comedy of errors, later platforming de-influencers.

Today, TikTok operates as the ideal precursor to AI and what the next digital revolution is ushering in—a blurring of realities, a blotting out. Ownership over “the sense organs of the public,” as Nicholas Carr phrased it, is the endpoint, the very future that companies like Meta and Apple want to build. And so TikTok persuades as the perfect tonic: a world of cyclical multimedia that lets you create, live in, or simply spectate at will. A 60-second harbinger of all that is coming, delivered on demand.

For many people, the sensations of digital life feel most alive on such an app. With art, suggests Jackson Arn, extreme sensation is a fraught strategy because of what it pulls off: As the artwork seduces, it also disgusts.

I now wonder if that was the point of socially-oriented technologies all along. They make you feel a little more alive. Again and again, they unlock dormant sensations: excitement, awe, satisfaction. Even disgust has the capacity to captivate. Because even in disgust there is a need to share, comment on, or understand the nature of spectacle, and how it functions. Only, the seduction of TikTok captivates a little too well, and as you age, carrying the experience of life on your shoulders while trying not to be crushed by it, you find yourself craving those sensations all the time.

That seems especially true for millennials, who were guaranteed a future that never arrived. They were dealt a bad hand—several bad hands—and saddled with the failures of those who came before them without a blueprint for a path forward. In February, I received a text from a family member. He'd applied for the SAVE Plan, and we exchanged mutual angst over our financial misfortunes, how so many friends are in the same bind, bonding over the recognition of unnatural loss, of another future we’ll never know.

Last week at the barbershop, I watched as a young man in his early thirties thumbed from video to video, his neck craned into his iPhone, blitzing through TikTok. He sat in the chair for about 40 minutes, and as the barber worked around him, not once did he glance away from his screen, except, to exclaim, “Look! You gotta see this one.”

So when I hear that millennials are usurping Gen Z as TikTok's leading demographic, I'm not shocked. The organs of our digital existence, like the body, are connected, flowing as they should even when complete comprehension evades reasoning. All of it is intertwined. The increasing thirst for mixed reality. Gen Z abandoning the rituals of digital life altogether for a more analog experience. The decline of TikTok as millennials eclipse the platform. The previous world is ending. So is social media as we knew it. And we again want to feel something—even if, and only for a little while, that something is 2004.

[cosmos-coma]

The Curses That Bind Us- Part 1

A/N: GUESS WHOSE BACK. BACK AGAIN. It's ME. Hello everyone, I was away for a while with work and bad internet but I think I'm finally making a comeback! Still struggling a bit with work but I'm gonna try to make it happen! the first paragraph of this has been in my drafts for months now and I finally got an idea to finish it on Halloween!

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Words: 465

Summary: You find yourself traversing a dark and deadly swamp, desperate to get back to the safety of town. You push on despite your nerves, but the hungry creatures of the night have a far different idea for your fate.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final)

___________

Fetid, heavy air hung around you like fog as you rode carefully through the spongy marsh. The full moon hung delicately above the treetops, shining its merciful light in scattered rays to illuminate your path. 

“Steady girl…” you spoke soothingly as you patted your mare, Vallaria, beneath you. Her nerves were evident as mysterious splashes, croaks, and snarls rang around in the hazy distance. “Just a little longer into safety, then we can both rest…” you assured both her and yourself. 

Val huffed uneasily, voicing her displeasure, yet remained steadfast on her path. She didn’t dare stop her onward trek, let alone slow any further. Hoof beats squelched below as you waded into a deeper pool, the rotten water rising up your horse's legs and making your hair curl with its stench. 

The sounds of rippling water hitting the shores echoed faintly around you, coming from both everywhere and nowhere. Hungry snarls and clacking teeth sounded from the shadows as you warily waded through and your hair began to stand on end. 

Your nerves rattled as you looked around desperately in the dark, but beyond the pale white light was nothing but wretched darkness.

SPLASH

The noise came suddenly from beside you as if whatever invisible creature hunting you was toying with you for its own sadistic pleasure.

 “Fuck.. ” your voice quaked as your nerves burned like cold fire in anticipation of the next movement, the next sound.

Out of nowhere a flicker of orange flame lit up in the distance, dancing brightly before settling into a controlled shape.

“I- Is that… a campfire..?” you mused as you pulled Vallaria to a stop, eyeing it closely.

“Val, it’s a campfire..!” You announced happily, the weight of the world lifting off your shoulders, “It’s a campfire..!”.

It was then that another huge splash came from your side, however, this one was accompanied by a scaly clawed hand wrapped around your ankle. 

 “Fuc- HELP!” You screamed out to whatever merciful creature may be sitting at the campfire, as your body was pulled beneath the murky water.

It all happened in a flash, the sound of the splash as your body hit, Vallaria braying in retaliation as more hands emerged, and the surface gradually disappearing above your head. 

Hands upon hands grabbed your limbs, pulling you with inhuman strength away from the moon’s light. Each hand slipped with slimy scales, and had you not been on the verge of drowning you’d have shuddered at the sensation. 

Between the depth and your air running low, your vision began to darken. Endless black crept into the corners of your vision, swimming across your eyes as you slowly lost consciousness. 

Though as the black closed in… you could have almost sworn that you saw the glittering of moonlight on sharp slender metal.

_____

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