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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year ago

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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 2: I’m The Son Of Rage And Love]

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

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

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

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Jesus Of Suburbia” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

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

On the shores of the Susquehanna River, just north of Harrisburg, you find a Wawa with no gas: bags on all the pumps, cars with their fuel caps unscrewed and dangling. This is a common courtesy adopted en masse, like rationing during the World Wars or flying American flags after 9/11. It signals that a car has already been siphoned, no gasoline to be found here, no transparent flammable gold made of eons-past decomposition. You wonder if in a few million years, some unfathomable new apex species will be drilling your liquefied remains from the lightless layers of the earth to power their spaceships.

“Then we got sent to Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling,” Rio continues, gnawing on a piece of beef jerky, Jack Link’s in a red bag, teriyaki. Mercifully, whoever took the gas left some of the food. You are sitting in the parking lot, a quaint zombie apocalypse picnic, trail mix and Rice Krispies Treats, Herr’s potato chips and Tastykakes, warm soda sipped from plastic bottles. Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the Tahoe. Jace is tearing the convenience store apart; he is convinced the employees must have kept a gun somewhere in case of robberies. You know he’s fine. You can hear him banging around and swearing in there.

“Then we built some schools and a hospital in Djibouti,” you say.

Aegon is baffled yet intrigued. “Djibouti…?”

“It’s on the Horn of Africa, near Ethiopia and Somalia.”

Luke snorts. “It’s nice of you to assume he knows where Africa is.”

“Huh.” Aegon tosses a green M&M into his mouth. “Djibouti is horny.”

Rio says: “And after that we spent like six months in Key West, and then we got shipped to Corpus Christi, where Chips very narrowly avoided getting impregnated by, marrying, and inevitably acrimoniously divorcing a Marine.”

Everyone laughs except Aemond, who gives you a teasing smirk. “Did you really?”

“Uh, no. He asked me out, I ghosted him, that’s as far as it went.”

“Why’d you ghost him?” Baela says, crunching on Utz Cheese Balls.

Aegon turns to Rio. “You want a Honey Bun?”

“You’re my Honey Bun,” Rio replies. Aegon smiles, his sunburn flushing darker.

You shrug, eat a handful of candied almonds, tell a half-truth. “I just didn’t like him enough.”

Rhaena yelps and points: a snake, black and maybe five feet long, is slithering across the parking lot. It passes beneath the shade of the Tahoe and then continues towards the bushes. A moderate amount of panic erupts.

Helaena glances up from her notebook. “Rat snake. Not venomous.”

Rhaena shudders. “Well, I still don’t like it.”

“Where were you stationed next?” Daeron asks Rio.

“Chinhae, South Korea. Wicked cool place. The people love Americans, the food is incredible. We were there to rebuild a pier that got wrecked in a typhoon. They have these cute dolphin-looking things, they’d swim right up to the edge of the water with fish in their mouths to try to give to us. Like cats bringing home mice for their owners.”

“Finless porpoises,” you say.

“Yeah, those. And after Korea, it was Diego Garcia.”

“Diego…what?” Rhaena says.

Aegon turns to Luke. “Try to act like I’m stupid for not knowing where that is.”

“Diego Garcia is a tiny little island in the middle of the Indian Ocean,” you say, a bit wistfully. “It’s technically owned by the British, but we share a base there, we use it for airfields and to refuel submarines, things like that. We were renovating the housing facilities for Camp Thunder Cove. At night we’d go to the beach, have a few beers, look out into the ocean and it was just…nothing. Wide open dark nothingness for as far as you could imagine.”

“That’s what we need now,” Helaena murmurs as she makes elegant cursive annotations in her notebook, the cover picturing different species of spiders, a pinktoe tarantula, a green lynx spider, a black widow. “Someplace to go where no one will find us.”

“So you’ve known each other since basic training.” Aemond’s remaining blue eye shifts between you and Rio, like he’s still trying to puzzle it out. There’s really no mystery. You’re friends, and you’ve always been friends, and you’ve never been more than friends, despite many of your fellow seamen’s jokes to the contrary.

You tear open a Slim Jim. Aemond rebandaged your hands this morning, though they barely hurt anymore; he touches you with a clinical, focused restraint. “Not quite that long. Rio enlisted a few months before I did, so we weren’t at Great Lakes together, and then carpenters do technical school in Gulfport, Mississippi near Biloxi, and electricians train at Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas. We met after we were both assigned to Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 1.”

“The First and The Finest,” Rio quotes the motto, grinning. “The original Seabees, founded during World War II. People called our battalion the Pioneers, which…is kind of ironic now.”

Aegon says, munching noisily on trail mix: “It’ll be so appropriate when you end up dying of a broken leg or the flu or in some other totally preventable way.”

“It’s so crazy, people died of anything back then,” Luke marvels gravely. “Tuberculosis, pneumonia, infections, starving, freezing, poisoning, getting kicked by a horse, giving birth…”

Rhaena shoots him a fearsome look and Luke shuts up, but of course he can’t take it back. There is a long uncomfortable silence punctuated only by birdsong and Jace’s muffled outbursts from inside the Wawa. Everyone looks at Baela, concerned, pitying, entirely unable to do anything to improve her situation. She is still eating Cheese Balls with one orange-stained hand, but the other rests on her belly.

“Clearly, the timing is less than ideal,” Baela says after a while, and if she’s terrified she doesn’t sound like it. “It wasn’t planned to begin with, but I was determined to make the best of things. I figured that I could still finish up my master’s degree with a baby, and Rhaena and our parents could help, and Jace would be done with law school soon, and it might be stressful for a while but we’d all get through it. And now…” She shrugs wryly. “Now all those plans are gone. Just gone.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Aemond says; a fierce low determination, a promise, a vow.

Baela smiles at Rio. “How old is your baby?”

He is caught off-guard, clears his throat, averts his gaze. Aegon looks over at him, alarmed. “Oh, he, uh…he’s little. Really little. He…” And Rio, so rarely at a loss for words, can’t continue. He eats his beef jerky instead.

You explain for him. “Sophie’s due date was right around the time the phones and internet went down. The last we heard, she was headed to Odessa to stay with Rio’s parents.” Aemond and his companions nod and don’t say what they’re thinking, but it’s swimming in their eyes: Sophie could have died, the baby could have died, they both could have died, you and Rio might be risking your lives to cross the continental United States for nothing. “Rio’s parents live in this…well, I joke around and call it a doomsday prepper cult, but that’s not really what it is, it’s just a farming community out in the middle of nowhere. People who have their own chickens and gardens, churn their own butter, don’t wear deodorant, make medicine out of tree bark…and a lot of them have kind of a survivalist mentality, they stock pantries and collect guns. So we figure we can reunite Rio with his family and then carve out lives for ourselves in relative peace.”

Rio reaches over to bump his fist against your shoulder. He is grateful. You punch him back, fairly forcefully; it’s like hitting a brick wall. Rio is as tall as Aemond but probably outweighs him by a hundred pounds.

You ask Aemond: “What’s in the Bay Area?”

“Our parents have a beach house. It’s up on a cliff by itself, pretty isolated, and surrounded by state parks. That’s where they were when everything shut down. I assume they’re still there.”

“Beach house?” Rio raises his eyebrows. “On a cliff?”

Rich kids. REALLY rich kids. “Your parents couldn’t just fly you to California in a private jet or something?” you say.

“Our pilots stole the jets,” Aemond replies, not realizing you were joking.

“Oh.”

“Jace and Luke’s parents were home in London, so getting there isn’t really an option, and then Baela and Rhaena…”

“Mum and Dad were on a business trip to Moscow,” Baela says. “I’d like to think they weren’t eaten, but…they were probably eaten.”

“I am so sorry,” you manage awkwardly.

A single zombie goes shuffling past the Wawa on the main street, a woman in a floral church dress, hair falling out of its curls, one pink high heel that clicks on the pavement, blood all over her mouth and chin. She notices the nine of you and begins to hiss, lurching closer. Daeron shoots her down and then trots over to retrieve his arrows, yanking them out of her cheek and eye socket. Rhaena winces. Aemond, distracted, bites into a Nature Valley granola bar. Aegon opens a can of Pringles, pizza-flavored.

Luke is peering through his binoculars, looking south towards Harrisburg. Faintly, you can see sunlight glinting off the gilded statue of a woman—the Spirit of the Commonwealth—that tops the green clay tile dome of the state capitol building. “What is that?”

“The sculpture?” you say.

“No. Farther away. Those big concrete towers, right on the water.”

Now you know exactly what he means…and you’d forgotten all about it. It’s an oversight you hope doesn’t cost too much. “That’s Three Mile Island. And we should leave so we can put more space between it and us.”

“Oh, fuck me…” Rio mutters.

Now everyone else is squinting to see the facility, barely visible from the Wawa. “Why?” Aemond asks you.

“Because it’s a nuclear power plant. And since the electricity is out everywhere, as soon as its backup generators fail, it will melt down and the whole area around it will become radioactive.”

Aegon puts two Pringles into his mouth so they look like a duck bill. “How do you know?”

“Did no one else go through a Chernobyl obsession phase in high school?”

“The professor mentioned it in one of my chemistry classes,” Aemond says, but he sounds doubtful; this must have been years ago, when he was consumed by med school prerequisites and had no space left in his brain for mere curiosity.

“Okay, listen up.” Rio knows the key points; he’s had to study different sources of electrical power. He demonstrates with dramatic hand gestures. “You have super radioactive reactor fuel, usually uranium or plutonium. You have a pool of water around it that circulates continuously. The heat of the fuel evaporates the water, which makes steam, which spins turbines, thus creating power. But if the external electricity fails, the water stops circulating, and the heat vaporizes all of it, and when there’s no more water the reactor fuel overheats and melts through the floor and poisons the earth, air, and groundwater. Any questions?”

There is a chorus of distressed chattering as people swiftly rise to their feet, clutching armfuls of snacks for the road. Jace comes trudging out of the Wawa, conspicuously not in possession of a firearm.

“No luck?” Daeron asks.

“Obviously not.” Then Jace snaps at Aemond: “Why were you stomping around all pissed off in the medicine aisle earlier? What were you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says quickly.

“Seriously, dude, what was it?”

“Nothing!”

“Damn, Plankton, calm down.” Jace shields his face from the sun, following Luke’s nervous eyeline towards the concrete cooling towers to the south. “What’s that?”

“Three Mile Island,” you say. “And we’re leaving now.”

Aegon yawns loudly. “I’m so full! Rio, can you carry me to the car?” And before anyone can tell Aegon to shut up, Rio has crouched down to let him scramble onto his back. Aegon cackles and waves his can of Pringles around as Rio sprints to the Tahoe. Now there are a few more zombies stumbling up the street, but you don’t waste arrows or bullets on them. Baela runs them down as she swerves out of the parking lot and drives northwest, heading towards Clarks Ferry Bridge where you will cross the Susquehanna River in a less populated area and commence the long slog to the Ohio border. She turns up the volume on the CD player: London Bridge by Fergie. Immediately, Rio, Aegon, Daeron, Rhaena, and Luke are singing along.

Baela checks the fuel gauge and looks at Aemond in the rearview mirror. “We have half a tank left.”

“We’ll find gas somewhere.”

“Aemond, it’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk to California.”

Baela can’t think of a response. He’s right. Outside, the miles roll by in a blur of radiant, reptilian, early-summer green.

~~~~~~~~~~

Each time the interstate is blocked by a snarl of crashed vehicles or a backup too thick to navigate through—both common occurrences—Aegon digs the folded map out of his shorts and charts a new course for Baela to follow. This particular divergence might prove fortunate. The Tahoe has rolled into Distant, Pennsylvania, an Appalachian speck of a town, churches, coal mines, dilapidated old sheds. On the outskirts, perched on a hill and surrounded by oak trees, you find a small single-story brick house with a myriad of banners on the flagpole: an American flag, a Confederate flag, a black POW/MIA flag, Don’t Tread On Me, Trump 2024.

“Yeah,” Aegon says, scratching his scruffy chin as he peers up through the windshield. “I feel like they probably owned guns.”

“How do we know they’re not still home?” Baela asks warily.

“No car in the driveway,” Aemond observes. “No windows boarded up. They probably ran into trouble while they were out somewhere and never made it back.” Then he waits, the question upspoken. Are we going to risk it?

“We’re down,” Rio says after exchanging a glance with you.

Aemond turns to Jace. Jace—curly dark hair down to his shoulders, eyes on the house, chewing his full bottom lip apprehensively—doesn’t reply at first.

“You said you wanted a gun, Jace. All the Walmarts are cleaned out. This is what shopping looks like now.”

“Fine. Okay. Let’s go.”

Baela parks the Tahoe in the gravel driveway and tells Rhaena and Luke to stay inside with Helaena until the property has been cleared. The rest of you climb out, afternoon sun and mountain wind, dandelions crushed under your shoes. There’s a barn behind the house, you see now, gaps between the wooden boards and flaking red paint.

Luke is standing up through the open sunroof, inspecting the scene with his binoculars. “No movement.”

“We’ll take the house, if you want,” Rio tells Aemond. You’re clutching your borrowed baseball bat with bandaged hands, though it still feels unnatural; your M9 is in its holster in case of emergencies. Jace, Baela, and Daeron start plodding across the yard towards the barn. The grass is tall and mostly shaded, the oak trees decades old, massive, weaving a patchwork canopy of leaves.

Aegon trots over and slaps Aemond on his left shoulder, his blind side. Aemond says without looking at him: “I’ll go with them. You wait out here.”

Aegon drives an imaginary ball with his golf club. “I’m very sensitive to rejection, you know.”

“You’ll survive.” Then Aemond follows you and Rio to the house.

Rio tries the knob, locked. He doesn’t waste a bullet by trying to shoot the lock off the door, something that is far less reliable than movies would have you believe. He kicks it open instead, three tries and then the screws that secure the latch give way and the door swings ajar. You wait, counting seconds in your head, listening for growls or footsteps. There are no sounds except the breeze sighing through the trees, the warbles and wing flaps of birds. You steal a glimpse of the barn. Jace, Baela, and Daeron have unhooked the rusted iron latch and are venturing inside, Daeron last and glancing around watchfully, his compound bow already drawn. Rio steps into the house.

It’s hot, stifling, all the windows shut. But this has its advantages. You inhale deeply: no trace of decomposition, no black swampy nauseating rot, just dust and lemon Pledge and old-people staleness.

“Smells fine,” Rio says. And then, loudly: “Anyone home? We’re just looking for supplies. We don’t want to hurt you. If anybody is here, just let us know and we’d be happy to leave. And, uh, sorry about the door.”

You stay close to Rio as he sweeps through the living room—floral couch, television turned off, crosses on the walls—and then the kitchen, where bananas are turning black on the counter. Aemond is to your right; he’s placed you on his blind side. He trusts me, you think. When did that happen? You haven’t heard anything from Aegon or the barn. That must be going well.

In the bedroom, Aemond pulls the curtains open to let some light in. You search the drawers, the closet, under the bed. No weapons. The bathroom has 1950s-style pink porcelain, the dining room table is set for a meal that never happened. There is a deer head mounted on the wall, ten points, not bad.

“I can’t believe these fuckers didn’t have guns,” Rio says. “But where the hell are they?!”

You have always watched more than you’ve spoken. That’s why you’re good at shooting things, and why you’re still alive. Rio talks and you listen; Rio acts and you reflect. “Wait.” You turn to Aemond. “Did you see a cellar outside?”

“A what?” He is perplexed. “Like…a wine cellar…?”

“No. A regular cellar.” You walk back into the midday heat and circle the house, Aemond and Rio hurrying to keep up. Over by the barn, everyone else is stretched out across the grass, joking, relaxing, Baela with her hammer on the ground and her hands laced over her belly, Helaena cradling a praying mantis in her palms and showing it to Rhaena. Aegon is teaching Luke how to smoke with a pack of Marlboro Golds he found at the Wawa. Luke, game yet somewhat anxious, takes a puff and then immediately coughs until he starts retching.

“I want to try too,” Daeron says.

Aegon shakes his head, taking a nonchalant drag off his own cigarette. “Nope. Not for you. Illegal. You’re under eighteen.”

“I want to try!”

“Shut up, you can’t even vote.”

“Nobody can vote, the government has collapsed!”

You find it at the back of the house: a pair of large metal doors leading down into the underground cellar. The weeds have begun to encroach on them, wild violets and black nightshade.

“Awesome!” Rio says, lifting the doors open one at a time, the hinges shrieking. They’re heavy, but they cause him no trouble. Underneath is a staircase and a room dark with shadows; you can see a light switch that won’t work, the electricity long gone. Rio unclips the flashlight from his belt—taken from Saratoga Springs, waterproof with a 90-degree head so it doesn’t roll, known as a Moonbeam—and ducks down into the cellar. It’s a small room, easy to clear, and then you can start inventorying your findings. Rio is laughing, ecstatic. There is a workbench, a coil of thick rope, an array of tools—screwdrivers, wrenches, hammers, saws—some homemade leather wallets and holsters, cans of Brillo color spray…and then a treasure trove of weapons mounted on the walls.

You scan the collection. “We got Marlin .22s, we got Ruger Magnums, we got Remington 12 gauges, we got hunting knives…and one Glock 20.”

“A lot of ammo under here, Chips,” Rio says, yanking boxes out from beneath the workbench and stacking them on the floor, organized by caliber.

“No scopes?”

“Not that I’ve seen yet.”

You lift one of the Remingtons off its hooks and examine it: dusty, unloaded, vines of rust on the receiver. “We’ll have to go through and sight all of them. I don’t think they’ve been used in a while.”

“That’ll be a lot of noise. But here’s the place to do it, I guess. Low population, and we’re not staying.”

“Exactly.”

“Sight them for close range, like ten yards?”

“Yeah, that should work.”

Aemond says, eyebrow raised: “I didn’t know the Navy used shotguns.”

“Everyone hunts where I’m from.” You put the Remington down on the workbench then pick up the Glock, a box of 10mm ammo, and a can of Brillo. “Come on. Grab one of those hammers. I’ll show you how to shoot.”

You bound up the cellar steps and out into the shade of the oak trees, not stopping until you are at the edge of the property. Across the backyard where he lounges on the grass, Aegon gestures to the barn and asks Luke: “What’s in there anyway?”

“Nothing. Saddles and a few dead horses.”

“Oh, dynamite, I gotta see the dead horses.”

Jace says: “Aegon, man, what is your diagnosis?”

You use the can of Brillo to spray a large chocolate-colored circle onto a tree trunk, then make another two feet above that. You count your steps as you walk back towards Aemond: approximately ten yards. You load a single bullet in the Glock, aim for the bottom circle, and fire. A hole appears at the very edge of the circle. You take the hammer from Aemond and give the rear sight a few knocks. “This isn’t recommended, but it usually works.”

Aemond is smiling. “Okay.”

You load the full magazine and try again. The bullet hits closer to the middle this time. “Here. Both hands.”

Aemond takes the Glock but hesitates. “Is…my eye…?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. A lot of people close one eye anyway when they’re aiming. I always do.”

He is relieved. “Oh. Good.”

You tap the underside of the Glock. Aemond obediently lifts it. “The line of sight is slightly higher than the barrel, so you have to account for that. And then gravity will pull the bullet lower, and the longer the range of the shot, the more it will drop. So when you fire, the barrel should be angled upwards just the tiniest bit, not horizontal.”

“Like throwing a football.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s an arc, not a straight line. At first it’ll feel like you’re trying to do all these calculations in your head, and it will be overwhelming, but then it becomes muscle memory and you don’t even have to think about it.” Jace, Baela, and Daeron are now eagerly crossing the yard to help Rio carry the guns out of the cellar and receive their own lessons. “Alright, we’re going to start with a really terrifying enemy. I want you to shoot that tree.”

“What a formidable tree.”

“Aim for the top circle. And if you hit it, then you can practice on Jace.”

Aemond laughs, butter-yellow sunlight filtering down through the trees, the shadows of leaves flickering over his skin, a mosaic of flesh and earth. You ghost your open hand down the length of his arm as if adjusting the angle. Really, you just want to touch him, to feel his warmth and his stillness, the tension of his muscles, the rhythm of his pulse. He’s watching you, lips parted, goosebumps rising beneath your fingertips. Birds are chirping, sparrows and blue jays. High above, squirrels leap and scrabble through the branches. You pull your hand away.

“Look through the sights. The rear sight at the back of the barrel is shaped like a U, and the one at the front is an I. Is the I in the middle of the U?”

“I have no idea.” A pause as he reconsiders. “Yes.”

“Right, it is, and the bullet should go exactly where you want it to because I already sighted that Glock. I’ll show you how to do it later. Now shoot the tree.”

Aemond aims but doesn’t pull the trigger. He’s nervous; he doesn’t want to seem incompetent, pathetic. You imagine it is rare that he isn’t the one with the solutions.

“Hey,” you say softly, and he looks over at you. “You don’t judge me for not knowing how to cure people. I won’t judge you for not knowing how to kill them. Deal?”

Now he’s smiling again. “Deal.” He returns his attention to the tree, lets a few more seconds tick by, and fires. He hits one of the branches. “Oh, that is…embarrassing.”

“It’s not that bad. You hit something. Try again.”

More seconds, more birdsong, more wind through the grass and the leaves. Aemond’s second bullet pierces the trunk about six inches above the top circle. “Yes!” he cheers, boyish triumph on his scarred face.

You resist touching him. It is startlingly difficult. “That was really good.”

He lowers the Glock, and you click the safety on for him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you say.

“Why’d you ghost that Marine at Corpus Christi?”

“I told you. I didn’t like him enough.”

“Okay, sure, but actually. What was wrong with him?”

“I’ve known you for like twenty-four hours. You think you’ve earned all my secrets?”

“Well, not all of them,” Aemond says, grinning. Rio is showing Jace, Baela, and Daeron how to load the .22s. Aegon is swinging his golf club in circles as he follows Luke into the barn. Helaena and Rhaena are giggling as butterflies land on their outstretched fingers. “But our time together could be very finite. It seems unwise to waste it by trying to preserve some amount of mystery.”

“You’ve convinced me.” You want to be known by him, you want to be understood. That is a frightening thing to realize. It’s like handing a stranger the keys to your home. Will they visit graciously, or will they rob you, ruin you, burn you down? “I haven’t seen many examples of love working out for people. I’ve seen couples who hated each other, and couples who split up, and a lot of women having to raise kids all on their own and turning into these…bitter, exhausted, hollowed-out versions of themselves. I never wanted that to be me. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like that was just one wrong choice away from becoming my life. I don’t want men to disappoint me. So I don’t give them the chance.”

You think Aemond is going to say something cheap, flirtatious, awful: Give me a chance, baby. I won’t disappoint you. Instead he says: “I haven’t known many happy couples either. I mean…Luke and Rhaena would be the closest, I guess. But they’re so young. I’m not sure if they count.”

“Rio and Sophie seem happy. But they’ve also barely seen each other in five years.”

“It does things to you, when you start to believe love might be doomed to end or tear you apart or turn to hatred. If it’s just an evolutionary mirage to trick us into reproducing, what’s the point of giving someone that power over you?”

“Exactly.”

“I feel like one of us should be trying to talk the other out of being so fatalistically cynical.”

“Yeah, totally. Okay. You talk me out of it.”

He chuckles. “No, I don’t think I can. You talk me out of it.”

You’re watching Aemond, realizing you like everything about him—his smirk, his height, his hands, the clear direct blue of his eye—and wondering what the hell you’re going to do about it. Then there is a scream from the barn.

What?? Who??

“Luke!” Aemond shouts, and takes off across the yard. Now you’re all running, even Rhaena and Helaena who don’t have anything to fight with. Everyone is yelling, their lungs heaving in wild June air, their shoes pounding against the earth.

Inside the barn, on a wooden floor strewn with hay, Luke is shrieking as he tries to push a zombie off of him with his bare hands. She’s an older woman, grey hair in rollers, yellow nightgown stained with gore. Something has happened to her feet. Both of her legs end in exposed tibias and flapping strips of purplish, rotting skin. Aegon is beating her with his golf club, but he can’t get a good shot at her head. If he accidentally hits Luke, he could make it worse, he could stun him or even knock him out, and he’ll be bitten in the few seconds it takes anyone to remove his undead assailant. Rio lunges to grab the zombie. She snaps at him with bared teeth and he retreats, drawing his M9.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace is saying. The air is putrid: dead horses, dead people. “You’ll hit Luke!”

Your own M9 is suddenly in your hands, the safety clicked off, one eye closed. “Luke, don’t move.”

“Kill it, kill it!” he pleads hysterically, pushing the zombie as far from him as he can, his palms sinking into the decomposing bruise-colored tissue of her chest and throat.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace orders, but you ignore him. He fades into the background with all the other frenzied voices. Your finger on the trigger, a boom like thunder, bits of bone and brains against the wall. Luke shoves the corpse away, trembling, sobbing. Rhaena flies to him.

Aegon spots the fresh blood on Luke’s right hand and panics. “Is that a bite?!”

Luke notices the wound for the first time. “I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I don’t know!” Luke wails, tears flooding down his pink face.

“I thought you cleared the barn!” Aemond roars at Aegon.

“It fell out of the loft, we didn’t think anything was up there!”

Luke is blubbering: “I hit my hand against one of the stalls, I think that’s how I cut myself, I was just…I was pushing it away…I didn’t think it bit me…oh my God, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t want to die…”

“It only takes once, kid,” Rio says grimly, fidgeting with his M9, looking at Aemond as if for permission.

“Don’t touch him!” Jace hisses, stepping in front of his brother and clutching his bat. “No one is going to hurt him, it’s not a bite, you can’t prove it’s a bite!”

You reach for Luke’s bleeding hand. “Can I see—?”

“Get away from him!” Jace swings his bat. The tip of it connects with your skull, just a graze fortunately, but still enough to rattle you. Rio charges Jace, tackles him to the floor, starts throwing punches. Baela has apparently forgotten she’s heavily pregnant and is trying to pull them apart. You join her.

He’s going to demolish Jace. He’s going to break his nose or jaw or something. “Rio stop, I’m fine, stop!”

There is another gunshot, a cataclysmic earth-shaking explosion that makes the pain in your head surge from a ripple to a wave. Aemond is aiming his Glock skywards; a hole has appeared in the roof of the barn. “Stand up!” he commands. Rio and Jace reluctantly comply. You help Baela to her feet.

“Aemond,” Jace says. “You have to stop them, they’re going to kill Luke—”

“No one is killing anybody.” Aemond lowers his Glock. “Maybe he’s been bitten. Maybe he hasn’t been. And even if we knew for sure that he was going to turn, we don’t just execute people like this, threatening them when they’re terrified. We have humanity. We have compassion.”

There is a silence that strikes you as heavy, laden, holding meaning that escapes you. Aegon points at Luke. “So what the fuck are we going to do about him?”

“We’ll tie him up,” Aemond decides.

“What?!” Luke exclaims.

“There’s rope in the cellar. We’ll tie his arms and legs so he can’t do anything and keep him like that for a few days until either his hand heals up or he turns into a zombie. Someone will always have to be with him to help him eat and take a piss and also…you know. Deal with it if he turns.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says immediately.

Aemond’s voice is now gentle, sympathetic. “I don’t think you want this.”

“If Luke has to die, I should be the person with him.”

“You’ve never had to put someone down before.” And in this statement lives another: Aemond knows what that feels like. Aemond has had to kill someone when they turned.

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says again, this frail harmless doe-eyed girl, and you see a steeliness in her that you hadn’t thought existed.

“Okay,” Aemond relents. “When you’re asleep, Jace or I will take over.”

“It’s not a bite,” Jace murmurs, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“We’ll all find out soon enough,” Rio says, casting him a glare, then goes to fetch the coil of rope from the cellar.

Aemond cleans and bandages the wound on Luke’s hand. Then the weapons, ammo, and newly immobilized Luke are loaded into the Tahoe. Aemond asks you once everyone else is inside: “How’s your head?”

“Fine, I think.”

“Hurts?”

“Just a little.”

“Dizzy? Double vision?”

“No, nothing like that.”

He takes a quick look, parting your hair with his fingertips, feeling gingerly for blood and swelling. And this is becoming a serious problem: every time he touches you, you want more.

“Aemond…who did you have to kill?”

He doesn’t answer. For another moment his hand lingers by your temple, then Aemond turns away and climbs into the Tahoe. This time, no one sings along to the next song on the mixtape. Heads rest on windows, eyes are vacant and misty. Baela steers the Tahoe westbound on Route 1004, the Chainsmokers drifting through the speakers: All We Know.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Pick a card, any card,” Aegon says when he’s done shuffling. He fans out the entire Uno deck face-down and offers it to Rio, Aemond, and Jace. They each select a card, then Aegon picks one for himself. Finally, he holds out the deck to Luke, who stares up incredulously from where he’s still bound with rope and sitting on a curb in the parking lot of a Burger King just outside of Yarnell, Pennsylvania.

“Are you serious?”

“You’re an adult male, aren’t you? You think being in the middle of transforming into an undead murder machine exempts you from gasoline siphoning duty?”

“I’m fine!” Luke insists.

“Great. Then pick a card.”

“I can’t move my hands, you idiot.”

“Pick it with your mouth.”

“I hate you.” Luke bites his card of choice and waits with it clasped between his teeth, glowering.

“I want to pick a card,” Daeron says cheerfully.

Aegon refuses. “No. Too young. A baby.”

“Aegon, I’m seventeen!”

“Can’t enlist, can’t do jury duty, can’t buy lottery tickets, can’t sign up to drink gasoline. Okay, everybody show their cards.”

“I got a three,” Jace says, then yanks Luke’s card out of his mouth and reads it. “He got a skip.”

Aemond’s card is a nine, Rio’s a five, Aegon’s a reverse. “That means you lose, Jace,” Aegon announces, admittedly rather gleeful. “You had the lowest number.”

“This is bullshit, I had to siphon last time!”

“Then stop picking bad cards.”

“Jace, I can do it,” Aemond says.

“And get to be the martyr, as usual? No thanks. Give me the damn hose.”

Aegon roots around under the Tahoe seats and produces a long, semitransparent siphoning hose. “All the ones with the little pump attachments were sold out everywhere by the time we thought that might be useful,” he explains to you and Rio.

“That sucks, Jace,” Rio says. “I mean, literally, it sucks.”

“Next time we cross a bridge, I’m pushing you off it.” Jace takes the hose from Aegon, pops open the gas cap of the Dodge Ram 3500 you’ve found, and threads the hose down into the tank. He sucks on the other end and then shoves it into the Tahoe once the gasoline starts flowing. The fuel gauge was hovering just above E. Hopefully you can get at least a few gallons out of the Ram, another fifty or a hundred miles, maybe even two hundred, enough to get you across the Ohio border.

Jace is bent over and vomiting gasoline onto the pavement. Rhaena and Baela sit with Luke as Aemond feels his forehead and peers into his eyes. Daeron accompanies Helaena as she goes to scavenge inside the Burger King, her burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Rio is now holding the siphoning hose and watching the liquid gold pour into the Tahoe, his smile growing with each passing second. Your eyes fall on Aemond and stay there, his careful hands, his brow knitted with concentration.

A whisper from behind you: “We could fake date to make him jealous.”

You whirl to see Aegon, mischievous smirk, neon green plastic sunglasses. “That is a super generous offer and I appreciate the thought you put into it, but no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dishonest. It’s manipulative. If something is going to happen with Aemond, I want it to be real.”

Aegon sighs. “No, you’re right, it was a dumb idea. I just figured I have a lot of experience.”

“Experience with what?”

“People pretending to love me.” He flashes a strange, sad smile, then follows Daeron and Helaena into the Burger King.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n

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stargazedwinchester · 3 months ago

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ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `i look in people's windows, dean winchester ༘♡

summary: you attempt to start afresh after dean breaks up with you. word count: 1,328 pairing: dean winchester x reader now playing;｡･:*♫♪ i look in people's windows - taylor swift this ones inspired by Taylor's song I Look in People's Windows. this has been sat in my drafts for MONTHS so i hope ppl like it!

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

Days like this are meant for crying. You haven’t gotten out of bed for weeks, you just can’t bring yourself to do it. Sam has tried multiple times to help you, but you refuse.

At this point, it’s been two months since Dean broke up with you. He lost feelings for you, letting the relationship go up in flames. Instead of fighting back, you allowed it to happen. If that’s what he wanted, then so be it.

Dean abandoned the bunker for his new partner. He made that decision days after he had split with you, leaving the bunker to you and his brother. It had always felt like your relationship with him was perfect, obviously had its issues, but you were made for each other. Just for him to throw everything away? It must’ve been easy.

There was nothing more you wanted than Dean back in your life. Each day that passed proved more difficult as time went on. Sharing the bunker with Sam brought up unnecessary reminders of him. Sam had offered to pay for you to stay elsewhere whilst you recover, but you declined his offer. It was the least he could do.

You put hunting on the back burner for a while. Attempting to save the world was the least of your worries. Trying to mend a broken heart takes more courage than people think.

You drive down what you thought was one of the longest country roads that has ever existed, taking you to a completely new city. The trees overhung the road, sunburnt cliffs and the sky gleams. Flocks of birds soar through the sky together, heading south. The same direction as you. You just needed a fresh distraction, a new beginning.

Not Dean Winchester. Or so you think.

When you arrive, you realise there’s no real reason why you’re here, what brought you here. Travelling on your lonesome can be exhilarating or exhausting. There’s no in between.

You drive through the town, the streets flooding with people. The sun shines down onto the pavement, birds gathering next to an old man tossing bread onto the floor. Teenagers laughing, their hands full of shopping bags and couples basking outside of a local cafe. You drive around a corner and find a space to park. When you exit your car, naturally, your head turns to look behind you.

An Impala.

There’s absolutely no way.

Beyond squinting your eyes as hard as you can and staring at the vehicle, it can’t be, right? Impalas like that are unique. One of a kind. You shake it off, like it’s all part of your imagination. Turning back around, you make your way over to the local cafe.

It sits right on the corner of the street, a green striped awning protecting the outdoor seating from the harsh heat. As you approach the door, you push it open, a quiet chime as the bell rings above the door. Luckily, there are only a few people inside, mingling among themselves, meaning you can sit by the window and ease your mind with people-watching.

It’s always nerve-wrecking travelling somewhere new by yourself. You figured it was for the best, though, a change of scenery compared to the same four walls of some dusty motel room.

As you’re telling the barista what you want, you look for a table to sit at. You pay, and head over to the window seat, sun rays beaming through the glass, casting shadows of people mindlessly walking down the street.

Glancing down at your phone, you take a quick sip of your drink.

“Hey.” A voice appears in front of you; a tall, lean frame blocks some of the light. You look up.

Fuck off.

You don’t say anything. In fact, all you can do is glare at him like he’s the sun himself. You thought life was tough enough without him being in your life, but right now, it’s even harder now he’s standing right in front of you.

“Tough crowd,” he jokes, pulling out the chair opposite you. He notices you don’t laugh, and immediately looks down at the table. “What the hell are you doing here?” You half whisper, attempting to not cause a scene. Dean places his forearms on the table, leaning forward. Your eyes travel up his body, noticing his awkwardness from a mile away. Dean picks at the quick of his nails, his cuticles burgundy and raw. His mouth lays open as if to say something - admit to something. His plaintive eyes glance up at you, his under-eyes dark and lacking of life. A low, defeated sigh releases from his throat. He chuckles. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he begins, his sight still stuck on the table. You tilt your head.

“You’re sorry?”

Dean looks up, his lips slightly parted and his eyes scorned. There’s something behind those eyes that aren’t fully telling you the truth. He nods.

Dean is never one to apologise unless he knows he’s royally fucked up. It’s in his best nature to distance himself, and return when he assumes you’re over it. It used to make you so, so mad, but it’s Dean. You couldn’t ever stay mad at him for long.

You thought you had settled most of your resentment toward him, toward the situation he put you in. But the feeling resurfaces, hot like lava.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought I was doing what was best for me, but… I don’t think I did, Y/N.” He admits, glancing up at you. Silence grips you. You shake your head, pushing the multiple thoughts out of the way. “Wait, so-” You cut yourself off with a light chuckle.

“You broke up with me, you caused me so much mental and emotional pain, you leave me for someone else, and expect me to accept your apology? Who the fuck do you take me for?” You scoff, and he raises his eyebrows, sitting up straight. “Woah, woah, woah. I didn’t mea-”

“Eat shit, Dean. You’re unbelievable.” Tears well in your eyes, you scrape the chair back and make your way out of the door.

You immediately turn left toward your car, hearing Dean rush after you. “Y/N,” he calls, catching up to you. “Y/N, just wait.” He pulls at your arm, causing you to twist around and face him. His eyes are glossy, tears are begging to pour down his face. Dean’s nose is a little pink, the rim of his eyes too. “I have nothing to say to you.” You attempt to pull your arm out of Dean’s grip, but it doesn’t work.

“Well I do.”

His voice is rough, desperate, but you’re tired - tired of the cycle you find yourself in, the cycle of being with the same type of man that thinks they can get away with what they’ve done to you. Like it’s nothing.

You shake your head. “You don’t get to do this.”

“I still love you,” his voice cracks, “I never stopped.”

You let out a sharp breath, a humourless chuckle slips past your lips. “Wow,” you huff, crossing your arms, your eyebrows furrowing as you focus in on Deans face, his vulnerability showing. “That’s real convenient.”

He steps closer. “It’s not like that, Y/N.”

“It’s not?” You tilt your head, shrugging your shoulders. “So, what is it like then? You leave, you move on, then what? You get bored? You miss me? So what, you want me to drop everything and come running back to you?”

Dean’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t speak a word. He knows you're right.

You nod to yourself, swallowing the sting in your chest. “You made your choice, Dean. Now please,” You turn away from him, hot tears flushing down your face, you look at him one last time. “Kindly, leave me the fuck alone.”

With that, you keep your eyes to the floor, walking away from the man who once gave you everything -- only to take it all back.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #spn x you #spn x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x y/n #supernatural x reader

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jamesv-t · 4 months ago

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The Warning in Kerrang magazine. Transcription of the interview below the cut

The Warning blew up last year with their fourth album, Keep Me Fed. Since then, they've toured relentlessly. Gearing up to take on Latin America and Europe, it's clear the Villarreal Vélez sisters are on the brink of international superstardom...

WORDS: ALIYA CHAUDHRY PHOTOS: GUSTAVO KURI, ZEUS LOPEZ

The day after The Warning played the MTV Europe Music Awards, held in Manchester in November, the Villarreal Vélez sisters got on a plane to Miami to perform at the Latin GRAMMYs.

"That week, the way that we lived It it was just so crazy," drummer Pau laughs today. "Very chaotic," adds bassist Ale.

"It was a lot" lead vocalist and guitarist Dany agrees.

At the EMAs, they were up for Best Push, an award that highlights breakthrough artists. The band played Automatic Sun, taken from fourth album Keep Me Fed, washed in red light and punctuated by bursts of flames.

Speaking to Kerrang! from their homebase in Monterrey, Mexico, several months on from the back-to-back performances, the three sisters talk excitedly, finishing each other's sentences, or with overlapping answers.

"It was just so hectic and full of adrenaline," Pau enthuses. don't think we'll ever forget that whole week.

At the Latin GRAMMYs, The Warning performed Qué Más Quieres - up for Best Rock Song - in metallic outfits as strobe lights pierced the air. The band are native Spanish speakers but mostly write and sing in English, making a point to include one Spanish track on each album, which, on Keep Me Fed, was the nominated track.

"We toured a lot in North America and in Europe, even Asia," Pau recounts of the past year's whirlwind. "But we hadn't been to South America in a while not even in Mexico. So to have been recognised in the Latin American community by our peers, especially our rock'n'roll peers, and to be representing Mexican rock, we feel very honoured."

To call it all a busy time would be an understatement. After releasing Keep Me Fed last summer, The Warning's fame has sky-rocketed, landing them on international stages including awards shows, TV screens and even New York's iconic Times Square. It's all the more impressive when you take into consideration the fact that Dany, Pau and Ale are only 25, 23 and 20 years of age, respectively. And, as Pau reveals, they've been so all over the place that they even know some of their on-the-road locales.

"Touring North America, we know what it is, we've done it for a while," Pau says. "So we know our stops, we know our Walmarts, we know our Targets. We know where to go."

"The only thing was the cold in Canada..." Ale adds.

The first leg of that tour was a run of the United States, including festivals and headline shows, followed by support slots with Halestorm and Evanescence in Canada - the former being a band The Warning had toured with in the past. "It was just like reuniting with old friends," Pau smiles.

By the time Kerrang! catches up with the trio, they're nearing the end of a break from travelling - a much needed pause before the whole machine kicks back off again.

"We've been here in Monterrey for a while, and again, we're about to leave, but I feel that leaving and touring just makes me really appreciate my home, my city," smiles Pau.

At home, their stardom is undeniable and frankly unavoidable. It's Warning-mania.

"Every time we leave our house, we get asked for a picture or an autograph," Pau says. "It's not jarring, because I know that it's there. I'm aware that when I go out that will happen, but sometimes I am caught off-guard."

One time, the drummer was approached by a fan at a restaurant, right when she was in the middle of paying the bill.

"There's the other part, where you assume people are coming to you because they recognise you and they want to tell you something." Dany starts.

"But then they're like, Hey, is your car the grey one that's parked behind? and I'm like, "Oh! I got ahead of myself." Pau laughs.

The band's 2024 tours were just the first phase of the Keep Me Fed cycle - this year, they're continuing to play heavily across continents.

"We're super excited about getting this album to the places that haven't heard it completely." Dany says

On the day we catch-up, they're just a week away from some genuinely mega home-country shows, including three nights at Mexico City's 10,000-cap Auditorio Nacional. This tour, along with a special local date at the 8,000-seat Auditorio Citibanamex, is completely sold out. Not that it's sunk in yet.

"We're going to be living these shows that we've been planning for a whole year." Pau says. "It's this weird anticipation and anxiety - we've been living with the concept for such a long time, rehearsing for them, planning them, working with so many people to make them happen, and now they're going to happen!"

After Mexico, The Warning are touring South America in March, before heading to the UK and Europe in April, including a stop at London's 02 Academy Brixton.

"We're from the completely other side of the world." Pau explains. "so to have more than a thousand people buying tickets to see us at each show in countries that we've visited only once or twice, it's really crazy to us. It speaks to the power of music and the connection that music has with people, no matter the language, no matter where you're from"

The Warning have had plenty of experience playing venues big and small. These days, they hop from opening for the likes of Guns N' Roses and Muse, to their own gigs. adopting as needed, but always trying to make it as memorable-and massive as possible.

"Production-wise, it's like, 'Will that fourth screen fit on the stage? Probably not... So you just remove that type of thing" Pau explains.

"But for us, it's the same setlist, same energy. It doesn't matter if we're playing for 300 people or 3,000- it's the same concept for us. It's the same experience."

There's another layer to playing away from home, too. They essentially become ambassadors.

"When we have an appearance at a festival or someplace that rarely has Mexican guests, we do feel that we're representing our country as a whole," Pau nods.

"Even though, of course, we have just a tiny little bit of what Mexican music has to offer," adds Dany.

For many of The Warning's fans, the band could well be their introduction to Mexican rock music.

"We try to paint our country in the nicest light possible, because we come from such a beautiful country with such beautiful culture and history and music," Pau says. "Mexican rock is a very specific genre that I hope people from other places of the world start discovering, because it's such a rich genre with such rich history. For us to be able to participate in even a little tiny bit of it is great. Hopefully we get to open that door in people's minds, for them to be curious about what else Latin America has to offer."

In between all the touring and dropping an album, The Warning have also been jamming with other bands. At Aftershock Festival last year, Pau joined Dead Poet Society on their song Hurt. Her and Dany then did the same when they came to Mexico City.

Another Aftershock connection, The Warning also collaborated with Japanese outfit BAND-MAID, who they'd met at the festival in 2022 and toured with last year. In December 2023, the two bands began working on a song together over Zoom, with The Warning flying to Japan to finish it last May (they then released the single, entitled SHOW THEM, in August).

In the accompanying music video, each member faces off with their instrumental counterpart, as Dany and BAND-MAID singer Saiki Atsumi trade vocals that are entirely in English,

"It was very interesting to see how both of us were using a language that was not our native one," Pau explains, "They speak Japanese, we speak Spanish, So it was about finding a common ground in a different language and making it work musically, and communicating musically."

It did lead to challenges when it came to nailing the lyrics, though.

"We would choose a word, and they were like, 'That doesn't mean the same thing in Japanese English.' We're like, 'What? What do you mean?' It's that type of thing that translates so differently with other people's music."

A song about not only refusing to make yourself small, but trying to be as big as you can be, SHOW THEM proved to be an empowering listen, bolstered by its electrifying swagger. "Ultimately, music literally became the language," Dany says.

This collaboration, and The Warning's success overall, shows that fans are truly global in their tastes, looking outside of their home countries and languages.

"I feel that now, because of social media and the way that things are connected, we stop looking at music as this foreign export or import," Pau offers. "It's just this way to communicate, and music from different places in the world is just so different because the language is different, and the phonetics are different."

That mentality is especially important for a bilingual band.

"We can make music in English and we also make it in Spanish," Pau says. "For people to look at those two sides that we have, and for them to consume it in the same way, it's really cool for us."

It's a little early for The Warning to start thinking about their next album, but when asked, they do have some ideas in mind.

"I want to have more than one song in Spanish," Pau teases.

"Let's do that!" Ale agrees.

After the year they've had, the three sisters are still able to stay grounded. "We keep a very big balance of knowing where we are, knowing where we were, and..." "...where we can be," Dany completes Pau's thought.

Of course, having family around helps. Not just within the band, but their parents play integral roles as well - especially when it comes to touring. Pau describes their mother as "a professional mom", while their dad acts as a stage manager and audio engineer. And, of course, there's no-one who keeps your ego in check quite like a sibling.

"I feel that we keep each other humble," Pau says.

"We complement each other," Dany adds.

"When we rehearse, we know how to call each other out while also recognising the steps that we're taking," Pau continues. "We do that with everything within the band. I think we have a good balance."

And it's a balance that bodes very well indeed for the future. "I think we're going to be okay!"

The Warning play London's O2 Academy Brixton on April 17

#the warning band #the warning #dany villarreal #daniela villarreal #paulina villarreal #pau villarreal #alejandra villarreal #ale villarreal

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starkspondwater · 4 months ago

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how abt some cutesy petite reader and stan FREAK 😝😝😝😝😝

sorry I'm like so sleep deprived so if this is cringy excuse me I can't tell if it is or not

the fact that you requested this made me happy because i want to write more stan dammit

I do hope this is alright! I actually had this idea for Stan anyway and felt I could but some of that cutesy spin on it. It's a tad bit shorter than some of the other things I've written but I had so much fun writing it! Please let me know if it's alright!

Spanish translation by @glitterycollectivestudent here!

Warnings: this does have smut! Also slight mention of Wendy? I don't think that's a warning but I'm putting it in anyway

Home- Stan Marsh x Petite!Cutesy!Reader

Home. As a kid Stan didn’t really resonate with the word. To him a home was just the house he lived in with his mom, dad, sister, and occasionally his grandfather. It had his room, his bed, and toys. There was clear evidence he grew up there by the pencil markings on the door frame, showing his height, as well as the wear in the carpets where he would sit and watch TV with his friends.

Then there was that phrase: to feel at home. For the longest time Stan did not understand what that meant. He didn’t necessarily feel it with his family, he did love them, but the comfort he had heard about from his friends never quite reached him. He never ached to be back after a long time away like so many of his friends had missed their own.

It wasn’t until highschool that he realized home could mean more than just a house you lived in. He didn’t like spending time on the farm, and instead of finding meaning in the bottom of the bottle like his father he chose to dive head first into his friendships. Home became the way Kyle treated him as nothing less than family, pulling him along with Ike and remaining so close after so many years. It was the way Cartman laughed at shitty flicks with him on Saturday evenings, when all of South Park had already gone to sleep. It was how Kenny always knew just what to say to lighten any mood, his muffled profanities bringing him to tears of joy.

People became home. Not everyone got that honor in Stan’s mind, but you certainly did.

He found home in the perfume you wore, his nose burying into your neck to smell more of it. He found home in those lovely hands that ran across his scalp, nails always painted and manicured. He found home in the way your body melded into his so well despite your short stature.

There was just something about you that drove him fucking crazy, something the guys didn’t understand when they first saw you hanging off his arm.

“What about Wendy?” Kyle had asked long after you went home. It was no secret you and her were so different, not only in personality but in how you presented yourself. “You were never too into those girly types, dude.” his friend pointed out.

How did he properly explain that he was so utterly lost in everything that you were? How things he once didn’t give a single shit about like lip gloss and cute outfits now got him going? How every sweet word you said wrapped him around those pretty little fingers?

Stan definitely wouldn’t tell Kyle how he felt complete once he finally got inside of you, feeling your walls suck him in so eagerly. He wouldn’t tell how those sounds that fell from your precious lips were all he ever wanted to hear. No one could understand what he turned into as he flipped up those small skirts and pounded you into the mattress, grunts and moans spilling from him as though he were some sort of possessed beast.

The rippled of your skin on his. Your nails scratching along his bare back as you came. The heat from fucking you for as long as he could, not ever wanting it to end. It was everything.

Even now as you slowly rode him, hips grinding low as you took pleasure from his body, he was completely lost. Tonight you had dressed up for him, sweet words tumbling out about how you wanted to give him a treat.

Pink lace had covered your body, wrapping around you deliciously. Little bows adorned the tops of your breasts and ass, and Stan realized that this is what may do him in, what may kill him. His eyes took in every inch, every curve, every angle. Your cute self just giggled and twirled, not knowing just what you did to him.

The lace itself felt devine, not as much as your skin, but it was nice on his calloused hands. As cute as the thing was though, he desperately wanted to tear it off of you. Hell, he was about to before you directed him to the bed with a gentle hand. Giving a teasing smile you slowly stripped, letting the lacy item drop to the floor for you to step out. In no time at all you had his cock out in hand, effectively shutting off Stan’s brain.

As you rode him, Stan’s mind wandered. Lately he had another thing he craved, something that had begun to invade every waking thought he had.

Rolling you underneath him after your first orgasm, Stan observed your face. It was always incredibly cute how you looked when you came down from your high, like it was some important religious experience that changed your world when it was only just him, just Stan. He moved in and out of you slowly, deeply, savoring the feeling of your warm cunt around him. You seemed to notice a slight change in him, not a bad one, but something different.

“Stanny? What’s-” you suddenly gasped, unable to get your full question out as he pumped in and hit a particularly deep spot. Stan knew what you wanted to know.

“I’m gonna cum in you,” his eyes stayed steady on yours, gauging your reaction. It might’ve been rude to not ask first, but this wasn’t just a want, it was a need for him. You hummed, and at once he could feel you squeezing him. With a smirk he commented, “feels like that might be something you want.”

To his surprise, the sweet blissed out look you wore melted into something filled with heat and longing, your body arching up as you let out a deep sigh. He knew you too well for words, having spent every moment he could being with you. He studied your body like it was the most important exam of his life, and he knew without a doubt he’d pass with flying colors.

You were in this with him, and from how you were practically milking him you wanted it bad.

Picking up the pace, Stan dug his face into your neck and inhaled, taking in every bit of your scent he could. It drove him wild how it felt like he could never get enough of it.

“Harder! Baby, please!” He heard you keen into his ear, and he happily obliged. Each slam of his hips rocked you hard, making you come further undone. God, he would never have enough of how you felt around him, how tight and needy you were for him. Feeling the tell tale shake of your legs he sat up.

“Not yet. Not without me. Understood?” Your eyes were unfocused, too caught up in the pleasure Stan was giving you, but you managed a weak nod. Keeping a firm hold on your hips, hips he loved to squeeze and kneed, he continued thrusting into you.

Seeing you there, fucked out and completely his, it did something to him. He watched hungrily as your tits bounced with each thrust, thought of how lovely and soft you were all over. How he wanted to-

“M’gonna fill you up, nice and full,” dropped from his mouth without his permission, but was true nonetheless. The thought of having you completely, having part of him in you and dripping out, possibly some of him staying in you and growing…

He wanted everything with you.

“You want that sweetheart? You want to be filled?” Stan’s voice was gruff as his hips continued slamming into you. “You want that?”

“Y-yes! Uh- fuck- please!” you couldn’t even catch your breath at the rate he was going, but god knows you didn’t mind it.

“And you’re just going to take it all. Every. Last. Drop.” His hips punctuated those last words, bringing out those cute little whimpers he loved. He felt himself ready to burst. “Shit, are you gonna cum with me baby?”

You only whined, but Stan knew it was a resounding ‘yes.’

When he felt those walls clench hard, legs shaking violently around his frame, Stan let go. Warmth filled you in a way that felt absolutely addictive, in a way that you didn’t want to stop.

Stan thrusted a few more times as he softened, choosing to stay in place. Part of him wanted to keep his cum in there for as long you’d let him, even if there would be a mess.

You ran fingers through his hair as he rested his head onto you, not minding the slightly sweaty strands. You didn’t even mind the sweat of your bodies mingling in the sheets, no desire to get up and wash it all away.

Stan was home, and home meant you.

#south park x reader #south park fanfiction #south park x you #south park x y/n #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan marsh x reader #Still have like 2 requests but i'm on a roll!#request

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wimpywompythethird · 4 months ago

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This is a continuation of my last post about the hypocrisy of the Hazbin fandom when it comes to SA.

Sir Pentious is the biggest example of this. The show casually throws in a “joke” where he is dragged into a “sex” room against his will, clawing at the floor and repeatedly saying wait and no—clear signs of non-consent. Some fans try to justify it by pointing out that he previously fumbled his words with Cherri, saying he was “going to have sex with everyone,” but that doesn’t negate the fact that he is visibly resisting in the actual scene.

I know I might sound like a broken record since I’ve mentioned this scene before, but it still shocks me how this remains such a controversial take. Why is it that people who claim to care about these issues are so quick to dismiss it when it happens to a male character they don’t like—especially when the same show has tackled SA with a completely different tone in other contexts?

Now, you’d think a creator who claims to “care about survivors” would be more mindful of this. Instead, both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss include scenes where a character is sexually assaulted for the sake of a cheap laugh—because what is the joke if not “haha, he’s being forced into sex”?

And how do her fans react when someone points this out? That’s the easiest part. Just take a look at the lovely responses below from fans who supposedly “support SA survivors” … right up until someone dares to criticize their favorite show for using SA as a punchline.

Instead of addressing the issue, they try to justify it by saying, “Well, other shows have done it too, so it should be okay!”—as if that somehow makes it excusable. All this does is make Vivzie look worse. You can’t claim to support SA survivors and then get defensive when people point out that you’re not taking SA seriously, especially when one of the most well-known “jokes” in your work involves a character potentially being assaulted. Just because other shows, like Family Guy and South Park, make similar jokes—shows that, by the way, are regularly criticized for their offensive humor—doesn’t mean Vivzie is exempt from accountability. Deflecting criticism with “whataboutism” only highlights the refusal to engage with legitimate concerns. If you truly stand with survivors, you need to show it through your actions, not just your words.

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gottencents · 6 months ago

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010: nobody knows mental illness like a chanel bias

synopsis. SM Entertainment would’ve loved for FALLEN ANGELS and aespa to never share a stage — especially with Chanel possibly "corrupting" their prized “it girl,” Karina.

____________ ____________ ________ ____________

Chanel arrived early again, parked a little ways down from Karina’s place to avoid looking overeager. As she waited, she scrolled through her phone, trying to calm her nerves. Her playlist was blasting, but even the comforting beats of her favorite songs couldn’t drown out the excitement buzzing through her veins.

When Karina walked out of her building, Chanel’s heart practically stopped. She looked effortless, wearing a soft lilac midi dress with sneakers, her hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. Chanel scrambled to get out of the car, nearly dropping her keys in the process.

“You clean up nice,” Karina said, smiling as she approached.

Chanel gestured vaguely at Karina. “I was just about to say the same thing, but you’re making me look underdressed.”

Karina laughed. “I like your style. It’s very ‘cool girl trying not to care but actually caring a lot.’”

“Wow, called out on the spot,” Chanel said, grinning.

They arrived at the cozy Italian restaurant Chanel had picked, and as soon as they sat down, the banter began.

“So, what’s your go-to pasta dish?” Karina asked, her elbow resting lightly on the table.

“Spaghetti,” Chanel said immediately. “But like, with meatballs the size of my fist. What about you?”

“Penne vodka,” Karina replied, glancing at the menu. “But I judge places by their garlic bread.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Chanel said, nodding seriously. “If the garlic bread doesn’t hit, it’s over.”

“Exactly.”

As the waiter brought out their drinks, Karina tilted her head. “So, when did you first realize you wanted to be an idol?”

Chanel took a sip of her water, thinking. “Honestly? When I was like, nine. I saw this performance on TV—it was ridiculous, like all the lights, the outfits, the energy. I thought, ‘I want to make people feel like this.’”

Karina smiled softly. “And now you do.”

Chanel blinked, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess. But what about you? You’re like, the blueprint for idols at this point.”

Karina laughed. “Hardly. But I think I knew around the same age. I always liked performing, but it wasn’t until I got into dance competitions that I thought, ‘Oh, this could be something more.’”

“You’re so good at it,” Chanel said earnestly. “Like, stupidly good. Watching you rehearse last week? Insane.”

“Don’t hype me up too much,” Karina teased, though her cheeks tinted pink.

After dinner, they decided to take a walk along a nearby park trail. The lights from the city reflected off the lake, casting shimmering patterns across the water.

“Okay, real question,” Chanel said, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. “Do you ever get nervous before performing?”

Karina glanced at her. “All the time. You don’t?”

Chanel snorted. “Girl, I feel like throwing up every time. But it’s like, once I’m out there, it just…fades.”

“Same,” Karina said. “It’s the adrenaline, I think. It takes over.”

“Yeah, and then you’re just vibing,” Chanel said with a laugh. “Unless you trip on stage, which I have. Twice.”

“Twice?” Karina echoed, laughing. “How?”

“The first time, it was my shoelaces. The second time…honestly, I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Karina said, shaking her head.

Chanel grinned. “You think I’m cute?”

“Did I stutter?” Karina replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Wow, okay,” Chanel said, pretending to fan herself. “I wasn’t ready for that.”

As they continued walking, the conversation turned more personal.

“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet?” Karina asked.

Chanel thought for a moment. “Travel more. Like, really travel. Not just for work.”

“Where to?”

“Everywhere,” Chanel said, spreading her arms dramatically. “Europe, South America, maybe even Antarctica. You?”

“Honestly? I want to try surfing,” Karina admitted.

“Surfing?” Chanel repeated, laughing. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Why? You don’t think I could do it?”

“Oh, I think you’d crush it. I just didn’t expect it.”

When they returned to Karina’s building, Chanel hesitated outside the door.

“So, this was fun,” Chanel said, scratching the back of her neck.

“It was,” Karina agreed, her voice soft.

“I, uh…I was thinking…” Chanel trailed off, suddenly nervous.

Karina tilted her head. “Thinking what?”

“That I really want to do this again,” Chanel said quickly, her words tumbling out.

Karina stepped closer, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“I try,” Chanel said, grinning despite herself.

Before she could overthink it, Karina leaned in and kissed her. It was gentle, sweet, and completely disarming. When they pulled apart, Chanel blinked rapidly.

“Did that…just happen?” she asked.

Karina laughed. “Yes, it did.”

“Cool, cool,” Chanel said, her voice higher than usual. “No big deal or anything.”

Karina smiled. “Goodnight, dork.”

“Goodnight, pretty,” Chanel replied, her cheeks hurting from how much she was smiling.

As she walked back to her car, Chanel couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in her mind, already counting down the days until their next date.

____________ ____________ ________ ____________

A/N: texts made to all be incoming on purpose for u to know who talking better <333

Taglist ( closed ) : @saysirhc @awkwardtoafault @yjiminswallet @gtfoiydlyj @1luvkarina @womanl0ver @hazel-tanthamore22 @deuxae @arihiu

#cents works #aespa #smau #aespa smau #aespa x reader #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader #karina #karina x reader

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onionbug-critical · 5 days ago

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i don't really care about the recent short being "tasteless" because there was literally an incest joke that flew over peoples heads in looloo land, not to mention blitz threatening to rape mox and his wife in the first episode, but for me, its just that after s2, after the very last episode made it a point of "blitz should have empathy for this person who relates to his situation!" he.. suddenly doesnt relate to this target who relates his situation of being a dad? and for what? a punchline i honestly saw coming anyway? if i can tell what the joke is going to be, then it takes away from how funny a joke is. thats something this show consistently didnt understand in s2 when viv took the helm with writing most of the episodes, because a huge majority of them were just, "PENIS. SEX. FUNNY. LAUGH NOW", but at least brandon did. the last roughly 10 years of his life have been dedicated to writing offensive jokes that actually have a punchline, even if it is meanspirited. i honestly just care that the show isnt funny anymore. that it invested so damn hard in being emotional, in having stakes, in suddenly making you care about any of the human clients AT ALL when the entire premise of the show is about KILLING HUMANS FOR MONEY, just to force a hamfisted way to make you go "wow! stolas isnt that bad actually! he should get a chance to create a new family!" even though for one, stella was never canonically homophobic like the client was, just bigoted towards imps, which i lowkey liked as a subversion from the sinners who's homophobia made sense, until.. crimson opened his stupid moxxie sounding moxxie looking mouth, god the designs in these shows are so fucking lazy sometimes, and two, blitzs whole thing was making a found family that felt like a real one by truthseekers? but now moxxie and millie are just out of the equation of this fantasy because he doesnt want to fuck them anymore? ok. (reminds me of live action remakes where the whole found family is fucked up when that was the whole point of the original films lowkey) only to immediately contradict this if you think about how blitz is ALSO a father who adopted his kid and cares deeply for her like mr. wriggler does for more then two seconds? like. at least be consistent. if they hadnt spent a whole season trying to be bojack horseman, i wouldnt care that theyre trying to be family guy now. because i LIKED when this show was family guy in s1! at least characters could actually acknowledge the shitty things they had done (like stolas and blitz, and the bad things they did ON SCREEN,) without sweeping it under the rug with a "actually they were traumatized and they didnt mean to and they were FORCED to so that makes it all okay! forgive them NOW." (viv voice) yes we are so like bojack, the show that ended on a character with a season dedicated to them refusing to speak to the main character. and we totally wont have barbie reunite with her brother when she realizes blitz just. "accidentally" killed his mom and burned down her home with a goddamn birthday cake. what do you mean were losing views so bad that we have to sell out to amazon and lose kesha bee after 2 episodes? how could this have happened?

LMFAOOO exactly. The issue with the show is its trying to be like every other adult animation (Family Guy, South Park, etc) while trying to be BoJack Horseman, Morel Orel or even Steven Universe. It's OBVIOUS that the show lacks any consequences for the characters actions.

(No, Stolass getting demoted isn't a punishment, in fact, I feel they shoehorned him in and tried to make it all about "OOOOH. I DIDN'T WAAANT THISSSS!" to show some sebelence of consequence for the shit he pulled, like my dude, DON'T PRETEND YOU DIDN'T WANT THIS. You fetishized bro.)

In fact, the excuses of it's Hell doesn't really make sense as you can tell that Hell is supposedly a place where you're supposed to live with your sins, instead it's like red heaven, except more genocides by the year.

Now, this isn't the first time they had done shit like this, let me showcase you all the newgrounds BS they pulled.

In the (Hazbin) pilot they had Jeffery Dahmer, a serial killer sex offender, who killed and eaten boys and men, be depicted as a tumblroo sexyman, despite the fact this MAN LITERCHALLRTY KILLED PEOPLE! HOLY FUCK.

References Jack The Ripper (In passing for Season 2 of Hazbin.)

Unfunny rape jokes that is offensive (As a SA Survivor.)

Offensive stereotypes of LGBTQ+ characters.

Offensive Racial Stereotypes

Questionable character designs.

Brief anti-semtisim

racism undertones especially since one character is supposedly jewish while the other is a black man being owned by said Jewish Person.

Misogyny

Slurs being thrown around (despite the fact I find it less offensive and just edgy and annoying, it feels like the whole [blank] was written by VivziePop, do not sling the R Slur to try and be edgy that's so stupid ironic coming from me, but Viv really needs to get better humor, the second time was a poor attempt at mocking those who were hurt by it, only I caught the joke, others... not so much, if you're gonna say slurs at least have it in a context of a good fucking joke.)

Musical numbers that don't fit the tone or characters, it cuts in like a YouTube ad in the middle of a good YouTube Video.

Problematic behaviors in and out of the show

Screentime wasted to characters who clearly were supposed to be one note characters, aka no one gaf about characters. The only time the no one gaf characters were wanted, it was Moxxie and Blitz's Mother and Striker, the last they butchered to hell and back.

Ship sinking

Sabotage

Pointless filler (I take back filler being good, because the shorts are just shit they didn't want in the main show so they just put the filler.)

Some of these are just the tip of the ice berg, there's some stuff in her Playlist that can describe what humor she had, but most of it was just stolen or ripped, for FECKS SAKE SHE HAD TFS (TeamFourStar) in her playlist.

I feel the general consensus is, if she stopped worrying about others, nad leaned into her edgy/problematic side, we wouldn't have a problem. But she tries to mix it with "Steven Universe" morals and "Learning With Pibby" levels of shit that its not working. Her humor hasn't evolved from the 2010s (despite mine being from the era.), it's not nessecarily a bad thing but she needs to grow her humor and mesh it with current humor instead of...

Well.

Complaining about politics on her account, this is one of the worst Shorts besides the one that was offensive to Mexicians, these Shorts are so unforgettable that Idrc to name them, the only one I vaguely remember is Operation Wee-A-Boo-Boo. And that's because of Emberlynn Pinkle.

Show's not gonna get any better from here.

Still it's funny the stans admitted they defended the show, but drew the line at cruelty to orphans.

Help me why with every episode and short the show gets more and more cringe as shit, and the writing falls off.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva critical #hazbin hotel critical #fuck hazbin hotel #vivzie critical #helluva critique #helluva criticism #fuck stolas #fuck vivziepop

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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

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2026 Rewind - Grid x AudiDriver! Reader

Plot: After some devastating deaths within the F1 industry from unmistakable names in 2025, the FIA decide to make a plan to race at all of the old tracks that are iconic but haven’t been on the grid for a while.

A/N: this is racing heavy with only drivers name dropped, but if you want cool Ted and Crofty with Y/N vibes while learning more about some of the FIA Grade 1 Tracks, have a read!

“So Ted, let’s talk about this years line up. It’s just so iconic that I can’t bear it!” David Croft says as they are in the commentator box at pre-season testing.

“Yeah Crofty, obviously it’s so unfortunate the reason behind what we are calling the 2026 rewind because of some losses we had in the industry and this was the way the FIA decided to pay tribute to those people!" Ted explains before the onscreen for the year comes up.

"So, lets go through the year together and analyze it. We're starting of the season strong in the lovely Kuwait, here at Kuwait Motor Town, this is where we are kick starting off this season. It's a high speed track here just north of where we would typically start in Bahrain. This is a track consisting of 20 turns, and is 5.609km of racing ahead. I'm very excited as no-one in F1 history has raced here in an F1 car. Who do you think's going to do well here Ted?"

"Well, there's some really nice corners, and it's a similar temp to Bahrain so i think it's difficult to tell but I can imagine the Audi with Y/N now having done her rookie season learning all those key values about the F1 car and how it works. McLaren will also be good here, really tightening up the constructors championship this year!" Ted offers looking at all the onboard footage.

"Yes I agree, I think Red Bull tend to be quiet strong a the start of the year naturally and its a game for the other teams to be playing catch up!" Crofty agrees.

"Okay, then after Kuwait, we'll be travelling to and correct me if I'm saying this wrong but the Kyalami Circuit in South Africa near the wonderful capital Johannesburg. It's in replacement of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, we haven't raced in South Africa since 1993 and what a beautiful circuit this is, its got some really high speed corners and yeah, I think the Ferrari will really be great on those long straights." Ted says analysis the data of the cars in testing.

"And now here we have with us, Y/N Y/L/N Audi F1 driver here to talk through the rest of the tracks!" David says and points to the camera for you to smile and wave before he pulls out the microphone in front of you.

"Hello!" you grin and David and Ted both burst out laughing.

"What did I miss, I'm really sorry i was late!" you smile looking between them and they both nod in understanding of how tight the weekend schedule could be, they are shocked they actually have your time right now.

"It's completely okay, we understand! We've only introduced Kuwait and South Africa, we are about to move onto the changed Australia track! Your thoughts?" he exclaims and you smile.

"Yeah, obviously it's going to be exciting with all these new tracks that none of us have driven, so of course there was a lot of testing in the sims... but yeah its great to be here in Kuwait, and I'm excited to go to South Africa as well!" you smile.

"Yes, and how do you feel about Australia being changed from Albert Park in Melbourne to the Adelaide Street Circuit?" Ted asks with a grin on his face knowing how you felt about the Australian races.

"Well, after the spider incident in 2022, I've always been so scared to drive in Australia" you giggle, before Crofty pulls up the video of you in P4 of the Australian Grand Prix in 2022.

Y/N - Theres a fucking tarantula in my car Race Engineer - Copy that Y/N - No i dont think you guys get it, its on me

"And you ended up pitting there was no time to get it out of the car because of where it was, you were crying for the rest of the race and you were going so quick so you could just finish that you actually ended up winning your first race here and overtaking Charles Leclerc in, what back then was an Alfa Romeo." Crofty smiles and you nod.

"Yeah, so where ever that race is in Australia I know ill be on edge the whole time, I'll have my crew do like 6 inspections on my car before each session to make sure. It was traumatizing i tell you!" you admit.

"So after what will hopefully be a spider free stint in Adelaide on their street circuit we move on to south east Asia where we will exchange Suzuka Japan, for the Fuji SpeedWay, a truly iconic track before going back to an old favorite of some of the older driver on the grid like Lewis and Fernando in South Korea at the Korea International Circuit!" Ted says showing the line up for the races after Australia.

"I'm really excited for these, the atmosphere of the fans is always amazing and the tracks here are great I think Audi thrive on these sort of tracks and yeah, I'm excited to see what we can do there!" you smile, looking at the spinning track layout that popped up on screen.

You move on to Miami's replacement being the iconic Californian Long Beach Street Circuit.

"And we've been tipped of, by a certain Cash App driver that he'll be taking you to DisneyLand while out there?" he asks looking at you.

"Yes, Liam has already been once and when I said about wanting to go to radiator springs he and Daniel jumped on the opportunity to go, which then Yuki and Max wanted to come so it's now turned into this whole massive group trip!" you laugh knowing that half the grid would come with you guys.

"And of course much like the UK Italy is another pinnacle of Motorsport and we've had to change out two of the iconic track Monza and Imola. So for the first change of Italy we've changed it to the iconic Mugello track which I just really love, don't you Y/N?" Ted asks looking at you.

"Yeah I think Lando and Osc will be really strong there, I'd like to think me and Carlos are as well with the Audi this year... so yeah I'm excited for Mugello! Obviously they raced here in 2020 so it's the most recent of all the races this year to make a return so its only really me, Oscar, Logan, Fred, Theo and Kimi who haven't raced there" you smile analyzing the twisty track up on the screen.

"Yes, then we'll be moving onto, what was probably one of the toughest decisions of this year which was switching out Monaco and what to switch out such an exciting race with, so they didn't its the only race on the calendar this year that has remained unchanged!" David explains making you nod.

"I think, where this year is to show the history of F1 and what it means to all of us, the teams and the fans. And by keeping Monaco on there where its such a historic track, i think that's actually staying true to a rewind year!" you smile, you'd always loved the vibes in Monaco, from the fans to the track to how your car performed there.

"Yeah i agree i think it was the right choice keeping Monaco!" Ted exclaims also loving the vibes at Monaco.

"Okay, then moving all the way to the west, we'll be in Canada moving from Montreal over to Quebec at the second oldest track, the Mont-Tremblant Circuit!" David shows the new Canadian circuit on screen.

"Then after Canada we've got a really special double header with two Spanish Grand Prix's at different locations. We have the Valencia Street Circuit and Del Jarama Circuit. Both very exciting and it will be a long weekend in Spain!"

"I'm excited to see a street circuit in Spain, obviously we had Madrid for the last two years after Barcelona, so I'm excited for both Valencia as a street circuit and Jarama which is such an iconic track because of those tights turns and yeah I'm really excited for this one!" you smile.

"Obviously next one was another tough one, Silverstone again another iconic track and the UK has so many other iconic tracks that its hard to choose, there was talks of Aintree, Watkins Glen and Donington Park but ultimately they went with Brands Hatch what do you think on this?" Ted asks looking over to you, holding up a page showing all the different UK tracks.

"Yeah, I think there's some really iconic tracks in the UK, its my home so i grew up racing on a lot of those tracks in different motorsport categories, I think there's ones that are arguably better for Formula one, which is why Silverstone is the main circuit as it gives for the most interesting race, however for me it would have been a call between Brands Hatch and Watkins Glen so I'm glad that they chose Brands Hatch, I've got some great memories there at testing and showcasing the car or working with the Top Gear team, so I'm excited to race there!" you explain, the United Kingdom is the like Monaco in being both a founder and royalty when it comes to Motorsport.

"I 100% agree with that, however I just love Aintree so much and am gutted we wont see it!" David Croft admits.

"So after Brands Hatch we move to Monsanta in Portugal which we haven't raced in Portugal since 2021 because of the COVID restrictions but that was in Algarve so it'll be interesting to see the difference!" Ted offers looking at the next circuit floating on their screen as he zoom's in on turn 4.

"Then, again there another track we hate to see go even if its for one year but Spa, its so iconic and its one of the most dangerous circuits we race now and it's being swapped out for Circuit Zolder on the other side of Belgium! Thoughts?" David asks out in the open.

"I" you start.

"Well I think" Ted also starts and you both look at each other in shock before laughing. You let Ted go first to say his piece.

"Well, I think it's no where near interesting as Spa, and especially where its the last race before a break... I think it's going to be way more uneventful than Spa!"

"Y/N?" Crofty asks looking at you.

"I actually think the opposite most of the tracks have been very high risk with lost of turns and chicanes and hairpins that really catch you out, however this reminds me of the simplicity of Monza and everyone, everyone loves Monza. So i think it will really even out the mid field cars" you says observing the track that had nice long straights and minimal turns.

"I agree with you there Y/N! Next after Zolder we head over to the heavily missed Nurburgring in Germany, the last time we saw it was 2019 so again, up until our 2019 rookies would have driven there how'd you feel about this track Y/N?" David asks.

"Well, it's such an iconic track for so many reasons I really wanted to race there after I watched Lando, George and Alex all race there in 2019, I was actually there in the paddock that year with Ferrari as a part of their driver development programme" you nod, explaining to them how excited you were for it.

"Now next in the place of Monza which we just mentioned we have a complete wild card of the Scandinavian Raceway in Sweden! Now this, this is one I'm excited for it's a beautiful track and has the coldest track temps we'll probably get all season! So it'll be a real fight to see who can protect their tyres and manage them well!" Ted explains and you nod, knowing it would be an exciting race.

"Then after that we travel to France where we haven't been for a while, however the Bugatti Au Mans Track in France is iconic, there are so many great tracks in France like Paul-Ricard or the Charade Circuit or Dijon de Prenois, all of them are great but the Bugatti hasn't been done is so long and really means a lot historically to the sport" David offers, showing you one of the only tracks you didn't feel too excited a lean towards.

"Then, we move back across to Aisa, going to an age of favorite of the age old Sepang International Circuit in Malasiya which is one fans have been wanting to see back on the race calendar for a while so i wonder if this will stay into 2027!" Ted takes over, and you nod.

"I'm also very excited for Sepang! After Malaysia we move onto the first ever FIA grade 1 race track the Chang Circuit in Thailand, how to we feel about this?" David asks directly looking at you.

"Not only is it a beautiful track, but it means that Alex now has a chance to race at his home track while racing under his home flag and I think he's really excited for it. He's in a great car, the Williams has come leaps and bounds and are top midfield contenders and definitely will be up there fighting for race wins!" you smile, knowing Alex was so happy to have this opportunity to race in his home country.

"I agree Alex Albon to win in Chang Circuit, I've put my money on it! Our next circuit it one that NASCAR share with us in F1 taking it back to the Indianapolis Speedway, on the lower F1 circuit of course rather than the Oval that the NASCAR drivers use!" Ted explains.

"Yeah, that lower track is great, you got the nice curve and we'll be able to get to those really high speeds. It's an iconic US track just like COTA!" you admit, taking a sip of the water you'd brought with you.

"After Indi, we'll make our way a little further down south to the Rio de Janiro International Track in Brazil, which is instead of Sao Paulo" David explains looking at the second F1 track in Brazil, it was a nice track but Sao Paulo had been on the roster for so long.

"Then, we are back in Las Vegas, but not on the Strp track that was created in 2023, no we are going back to the Ceaser's Palace Track and I know many people complain about these Las Vegas Grand Prix's because of the timings and the drivers not really liking driving at 12pm!"

"Yeah, i agree they are really strenuous just like Qatar for the heat but I love the vibe Las Vegas brings and I like the whole weekend with all the activities in the fan zone and yeah I'm excited they used Ceaser's Palace rather than the Pheonix Street Circuit which i know they were considering.

"I agree. Our last two races, then consist of the Buddah International Circuit in India and rounding off instead of in Yas Marina in the Dubai Autodrome, which will be a really nice round off" David exclaims.

Slowly you end the interview up, needing to go down to the track to get into the car for you leg of pre-season testing.

What a year it would be.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris imagine #lando norris #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #lewis hamilton #max verstappen x you #oscar piastri f1 #alex albon fluff #alex albon imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll

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thowawayuntilfurthernotice · 1 year ago

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The South Park movie had a reason to be vulgar, it was poking fun at the moral panic regarding media at the time.

People tend to gloss over the fact that the V-Chip is an actual thing that exists. It wasn’t a made up plot point.

Putting aside Matt & Trey’s shitty centrist attitudes towards everything, they at least have a general understanding of joke structure.

Most of the jokes in Hazbin Hotel are just “Random character said a swear” or “Sex lmao.”

There is no proper set up and punchline structure because Viv & Adam can’t be bothered with putting in any effort when it comes to writing jokes.

As someone who has watched the entirety of Hazbin Hotel season one, I cannot think of a single joke that stuck with me.

Even the absolute worst South Park jokes (And believe me, there are plenty) stick with me because I get what Matt & Trey were going for when they wrote those jokes.

I’m not against edgy vulgar humor, but the thing about that type of humor is that you have to put in some actual effort into making it funny.

Viv just sucks when it comes to writing jokes, as she truly believes that the easiest way to get a laugh out of the audience is by having her characters swear and make sexual references.

And I’m saying all this as someone who doesn’t even like South Park. So this is not me defending South Park against criticism, as I’m personally not a fan of that show.

But that doesn’t change the fact that this comparison is stupid.

Oh, and before you even ask, Viv liked this tweet.

#Vivziepop Critical #Hazbin Hotel Critical #Helluva Boss Critical #Spindlehorse Critical #Hazbin Hotel

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asficdiary · 2 months ago

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⏲ The Driver's Seat || Fernando Alonso || Chapter One ⏲

I come across the Austrian Grand Prix finish line letting out a proud scream. "First Place Athena! That's P1" Sam, My Engineer, tells me through the radio in my ear.

"Yes! Come on! That's how it's done boys" I reply excitedly. "Back in the title fight, baby!" I add

"As if you ever left" Sam's voice crackles through the earpiece. I do a cooldown lap, letting the win and this feeling sink in. I pull into Parc Ferme, parking the car in front of the P1 board. I get out of the car standing in front of the halo, I curtsy, my signature celebratory pose. Cheering from my team fills the pit lane as I jump off the car. My feet hitting the ground with a humph. I walk to the front left tire and crouch down beside it. I put my head against the tire and I sigh. "Thank you, Benny" I whisper before standing up again. I turn to my team and I dust off my shoulders before running towards them. A couple of cameras flash around me as I hug team members, turning everything into a sea of green and white.

A few people tap my helmet before I see a familiar face off to the right. Next to Marti's team. I smile as I walk over to the Formula One VCARB Driver, I pull my helmet off and smile at him. "Could have done better" He remarks. I push some of the slick blonde hair out of my face as I Pull off my balaclava and roll my eyes. "Oh, cry me a river" I remark and he laughs before pulling me into a hug. "You did well Ath" Liam tells me and I wink at him before walking to my post weigh-ins and the podium celebrations.

I shake the hand of Pepe Marti, the man I was fighting against in the Formula Two Championship. "You raced well Athena" He smiles as Luke Browning is announced for 3rd Place. "Can't make life easy for you" I remark and he laughs before he's announced. I take a deep breath before I'm announced. I follow suit to the boys, stepping on the P1 Step of the podium. The Proceedings go as usual with the British National Anthem playing for My Team, Aston Martin, and the South African National Anthem playing for my country. I sing along to the Anthem under my breath. Once the podium celebrations are finished and I'm soaked in champagne, I walk to the Aston Martin Hospitality with the trophy and Champagne bottle in hand.

In 2022 Aston Martin had started focusing on the lower Formula Series, and As such had a F3, F1 Academy, and F2 team. I had been their rising star through it all. They had signed me after I won the FIA British Formula Four Championship in 2022 at Twenty Years Old. It was a miracle I had gotten the F4 seat after taking a year away from racing. Even more so, the fact I had won, but it had sent me into Aston Martin's Family and every other junior series with them. They had made a gamble with me, but it had paid off. I had gone quickly up the ranks with Aston Martin's Backing. A new series each year. I was currently their Lead F2 driver with the secondary team role of their reserve driver, both being beside Jack Crawford. The team wasn't a top team in F2, and most weekends I struggled to get into the top 5, the Campos and Premas always giving me a hard time. But It didn't stop me from just haven taken the lead in the championship, a single point between Marti and I. I had the chance for over the next two races before summer break to clear him enough to breath.

Once back in the hospitality in my regular team kit, after our race debrief, I'm having lunch. I put a mouthful of chicken and rice in my mouth looking up at the TV where the Current Austrian Formula One Race was playing.

I search for Lawson's name on the screen and nod seeing him in P6. It was the best result he's had so far this season so tonight's debrief would be fun. I search for the Astons when by fate they pop onto the main screen. They were behind Liam both fighting for P7. The little radio graphic pops up and Stroll's engineer tells him to let Alonso Pass. "I know what I'm doing mate! Fuck off!" Stroll shouts back in response. I look at Sam to the right of me. Her eyebrows furrow and she shakes her head softly, eyes glued to the screen. Okay so both of us are definitely against that response. I turn back to the TV right as Alonso goes for a simple overtake, Lance moves to cover it too late. Alonso Slams on breaks trying to avoid him, his tires lock and his front wing clips Lance's back tire. The contact mixed with the Austrian rain and old tires send the pair spinning. Alonso quickly regains traction but Lance isn't as Lucky. He skids against the tarmac before he hits a barrier, hard. I feel the phantom impact as a few people around us make noises in reaction.

"Unbelievable, Absolutely unbelievable. I have a puncture coming into the pits, Idiot Lance, Seriously." Alonso's voice comes through the radio. Although his response seems calm, I can tell it's the opposite. The way his accent thickens around the end of the sentences was the evidence. It was the same tell my father had.

The radio and picture turn to Lance as a yellow flag is put over the section. "Lance, are you alright?" His engineer asks, his voice calm. "I'm in the f***ing wall. No, I'm not f***ing okay. Jesus Christ, What was Fernando Thinking? My arm is f***ed. What an idiot" Lance screams through his radio. My eyes widened at his response.

"There goes any points he earned this season for those words" Sam jokes and I chuckle. My assistant Michael comes and sits next to me, "That was Stroll's fault right?" He asks and I nod. "Yea, no. Lance is 100% at fault for that" I say shaking my head. "I don't know what goes through that kids mind anymore" Sam says I agree with her.

We all turn back to the screen and continue to watch the race. I keep an eye on the remaining Aston Martin and Liam's VCARB. They both end up fighting at one point. For P5. I sigh as Alonso makes an easy pass, the Aston having more speed on the straight. Guess who was going to have to Liam's bitching and Moaning about Alonso this evening. Yep, me.

Liam and I agreed on most things, but when it came to Alonso, we couldn't be more different. I had always looked up to Alonso. I had heard many stories about him over the years from my father and had grown up watching him. Liam, on the other hand, despised him. He didn't even have a reason to hate him. It was the most annoying thing in the world. And not to mention that the hatred had been fuelled even more by fights on and off the track last year. Austin last year had put Alonso as a topic not to discuss for a month after their battles. But that was Liam, and sure it was his undesirable quality, but no one was perfect.

The race ends and I'm pulled into signings of driver caps and cards. It's an hour until I'm done for the day. As I say goodbye to a team member my phone dings with a message from Liam, telling me he finished his meeting with Christian Horner and he was heading to the VCARB garage before we could leave. I send a thumbs up in response as I start to walk out the Aston Garage. I bump into someone and Immediately apologize, I put my phone away and look up. "All good Athena, Just watch where you going" Alonso tells me and I smile. "Noted" I smile, sending him a finger gun. God that was awkward. What the hell? "By the way, congrats on the win, at least the teams having wins somewhere" He tells me and I nod. "Thank you, sorry for the shitty race" I say and he nods. "It happens, we'll learn from it. Oh, Also tell your father I'm not letting him get out of paddle next weekend." He says and I nod. "I'll let him know." I smile. He nods goodbye before walking away. I let out a breath, I wasn't aware I was holding.

I continue on my adventure to VCARB. I spot Liam speaking to Isaack outside. I stop next to the pair. Liam pauses his conversation, giving me a side hug before continuing. I loved Liam, I really did, but sometimes the things he did annoyed me. I wasn't a physical touch person, and Liam knew that. But sometimes he didn't care. What really annoyed me at this moment was the way he lets his hand slip from my shoulder to my waist. Something that was way too personal for friends.

It isn't until I see Isaack glance at it and his eyebrows furrow slightly that I awkwardly push away from Liam. I give Isaack an awkward smile and he returns it. "You won today right?" He asks and I nod. "Yea, Liam wouldn't shut up about it this afternoon. Congrats, I miss the feeling of winning" He admits and I smile. "Thank you, but also you're in a VCARB. You got a P5 today? That's a win for you and your team. And plus with your talent, It's a matter of time till it happens. Just got to believe in yourself kid" I tell him and he smiles. "Thanks Athena" He says and leans to give me a hug, I give it back. "You'll get there, I promise" I add and he smiles. He bids his goodbye and I turn back to Liam.

"We have a win and a Best result of the season. How are we celebrating?" I ask as we both naturally turn to walk to the exit. "Not sure a P9 is worth celebrating, but I say clubbing. I can ask the drivers for a recommendation" He offers and I roll my eyes. "You are going to get voted off that group chat. George has already warned you. And no, not clubbing" I warn him. I see him roll his eyes. "Come on, we haven't been clubbing in forever" He whines. "You mean I haven't. You were out partying last weekend." I point out and he sighs. "That was different. It was Kaleb's Party. And either way, you know it's not the same without you" He tries and I shake my head. "You mean without me being hit on constantly by straight guys who think their the shit" I ask and his smile falters. "You mean every guy who isn't me" He smirks and I fake gag. "Sorry, I think I just threw up there for a second. In your Dreams Blondie" I scoff.

He goes to respond as we walk past the Aston Martin Garage. I watch as Mike Krack, the team principal, walks out the garage. His eyes scan the paddock and his eyes land on me. He shouts my name and cuts Liam off. We both stop. Mike walks up to us and greets Liam before turning to me. "I need to speak to you" He states. His eyes are wild and his hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times. He was Worried, Anxious, and he had the tell tale signs. "Some-what urgently, In private" he says and his voice confirms my suspicions. I felt protective for some reason so I jumped to help. "Yea, Yes of course" I say before turning to Liam. "We can discuss plans later alright?" I say before I walk with Mike to his office.

*Word Count: 2K

⏲⏲⏲⏲ Author's Note ⏲⏲⏲⏲

Hello My Loves, I am so so excited to be sharing with you "The Driver's Seat" but before I start with the story I wanted to just take a second to thank you for being on this journey with me. Whether you stumbled across this story by accident, or you've come from my social medias, maybe a different one of my stories, the fact you are here and wanting to read this story means more than words can express. This story started as an Idea I had pretty much as soon as I started becoming an F1 fan. And it kind of sat in my mind, in the back of it waiting for the right moment, the right character, the right lead, and It's almost sort of grown with me. It's kept me up late into the evening thinking of how I could execute it, and I mean here it is. A little part of my heart and soul in your hands. Writing has always been something that's sort of been apart of me. There is no me without the ability to tell stories. No matter if I was in the 3rd grade writing about an illicit affair or the 9th with a insta love romance for my sister, it's a huge part of my identity. It's been an escape at times (I hate It Here was actually written about me) and a life line at others, much like Formula One. I've poured my endless day dreams and countries culture into this story. I've gone through a whirlwind of emotions while writing this story, and I hope it can achieve the same reaction from you. May it be a smile from a joke, a blush from an interaction or even a tear from revelations. If you've read my other stories, whether it's from this standalones series or my short story, I hope this story shows a growth in my writing and storytelling. If not, I'm glad this is your first story of mine you shall read. I appreciate every single one of you for giving your time, your patience, and your interest to this story. It means so much to have you on this ride with me. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the story. I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it. As always, Lot's of Love, - Lia

#f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #fernando alonso #formula one #asficdiary #fernando alonso fanfiction #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x oc #fa14 #fa14 fanfic

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twistedinthreads · 1 year ago

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Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake.

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.”

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength.

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her.

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars.

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip.

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper.

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette.

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer.

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now.

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe.

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.”

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric.

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it.

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands.

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake.

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.”

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.”

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately.

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters.

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently.

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes.

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized.

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough.

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness.

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible.

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things.

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm.

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form.

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain.

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton smut #felix catton fic #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fic #saltburn fanfiction

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