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#no more running 11 blogs at once
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what if rafe found kook!sweetheart!reader’s girl blog? omg and he see’s some nsfw reblogs…
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warnings: use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (just once), reader is just a 🎀 girl 🎀, 18+ links
a/n: i think i would die if this really happened omg
“i still think i should join you in the shower..” you looked up at rafe’s reflection from your vanity, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “we both know how that’ll end.” you laughed, adjusting your robe before twisting the door knob of your bathroom. “i’ll be right out.” rafe watched as you closed the door behind you, collapsing onto your bed with a sigh. he wanted nothing more than to get you underneath your sheets and, hopefully, have his head between your thighs.
just as he felt himself growing hard at the thought of you gasping his name, he heard your phone ding!
thinking nothing of it, he glanced at the device on your nightstand, a few more notifications coming in. his eyebrows knitted in confusion. you always had your phone silenced at this time of night. fingertips itching to check what was making your phone go off, he muttered a quick ‘fuck it.’ before grabbing the dammed thing. “tumblr?” he narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar app icon.
[11:41 PM] lanasweetheart liked your post: “something about a manly man getting the bestest sleep in a pink hyperfeminine bed (he’s so babygirl 🎀)”
rafe clicked the notif, a ‘what the fuck?’ falling from his lips when a picture of him sleeping next to you lit up the screen. tapping on the profile icon, rafe was in for a surprise when all your posts were now at the tips of his fingers. “three thousand notes?” he was in disbelief that a photo of the back of his head peeking out of your pink comforter had gotten so much traction. “girls really go crazy over that shit?” he laughed, full on scrolling now.
rafe thought it was cute that all your posts consisted of photo dumps of your nights out with your girlfriends, cute selfies with freshly done makeup, nail pics, some rant posts here and there about drama he already had the full scoop on, but then he came across a tag that said ‘୨ৎ thinking thoughts’ that completely flipped his brain inside out.
bf looked so dilfy today, should i ask him for babies?
“you totally should.” he whispered to himself, tongue running across his bottom lip as he kept reading. the next post was a reblog.
gorgeous gorgeous girls pout and whine and whimper instead of using words
“yeah, you do.” rafe could feel heat starting to settle in the pit of his stomach. you were always so sweet and graceful, your boyfriend couldn’t help but feel a smidge of jealousy that an app got to see this side of you before he did.
i just want him to break me sometimes. slap me, choke me, degrade me.. rough me up a little bit that’s all :(
“holy shit.” he cleared his throat, his cock now straining against the denim material of his jeans. he would’ve happily done all of that for you if you asked, but then again maybe that was the problem. you shouldn’t have to. apart of rafe felt bad for invading your privacy like this, but man was he glad that he did.
love when daddy picks out my lingerie for the night <3
rafe’s jaw was on the ground. ‘daddy’???? oh, you were so going to get it. “what are you doing?” rafe jumped at the sound of your voice, having not heard the water to the shower stop. you were in nothing but a robe, the scent of your strawberry shampoo filling up his senses. “what am i doing?” he repeated your question, getting up as he placed your phone back on your nightstand.
“yeah.. did i get a text message or something?” your heart started pounding in your ears as you watched rafe’s eyes grow dark. “no. no text message. ‘was just looking through your filthy tumblr account.” you blinked, chest rising and falling as your blood ran cold. “oh?” you backed away with each step rafe took until you were finally blocked by your wall. “mhmm, turns out my sweet little girlfriend wants to be treated like a whore in bed.”
you swallowed thickly, a gasp leaving your lips when rafe’s hand wrapped around your throat. “wanna be roughed up?” he laughed, dragging you over to your bed before ripping the robe off of your body. “i’ll fuckin’ rough you up.”
2K notes · View notes
redgoldsparks · 11 months
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I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.
instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble
Full transcript below the cut.
PAGE 1
Part one: Ruddy Owls!
I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.
Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”
Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.
Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”
PAGE 2
Part Two: Hats
I dedicated myself to being a fan.
Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.
Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.
Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz
Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”
Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).
Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.
PAGE 3
Part Three: Double Trouble
Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood. 
Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life. 
Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!" 
Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why? 
Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined. 
Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks." 
PAGE 4
Part Four: Sweets
In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.
PAGE 5
Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.
For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.
PAGE 6
Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)
Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.
from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1
PAGE 7
Part 5: Music
Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.
Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”
Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.
PAGE 8
These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.
PAGE 9
Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.
Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.
PAGE 10
What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?
Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.
Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.
Experiencing it in community.
“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan
PAGE 11
Part 6: Tooth and Claw
In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.
Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”
Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com
PAGE 12
Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns
Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)
PAGE 13
Part 7: Home
At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.
Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”
Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.
Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”
Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”
Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.
PAGE 14
But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.
PAGE 15
Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older
We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017) 
PAGE 16
Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot: 
*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism 
*The government cannot be trusted 
*Read and think critically
*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper? 
*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad
*Organize for resistance
*Educate and share resources with peers
*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional
* We are only as strong as we are united
*The weapon we have is love 
MK 2019
PAGE 17
PART 8: EPILOGUE
In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]
Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”
Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.
PAGE 18
I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.
A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)
June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear
August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her
December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views
December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities
March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation
December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl
December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors
January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes
March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.
PAGE 19
What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?
Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.
Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”
Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”
PAGE 20
HOWEVER.
It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.
Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.
Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023
Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.
PAGE 21
Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)
JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”
So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.
PAGE 22
Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.
What about transmen and nonbinary folks?
Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.
I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay
I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.
-Witch Trials episode 4
I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7
*No sources cited
PAGE 23
It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:
“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020
War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021
And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”
I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022
PAGE 24
Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).
Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.
*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide
PAGE 25
As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.
Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”
Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”
Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”
Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”
Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”
Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.
Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”
Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”
Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”
PAGE 26
And as for JKR herself?
As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.
Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.
PAGE 27
In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.
PAGE 28
Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.
Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.
Maia Kobabe, 2023
3K notes · View notes
bcyhoods · 1 year
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TO BE SAFE. EDDIE MUNSON
synopsis: you ask to sleep over at eddie’s for the first time, and he undoubtedly is head over heels for you
word count: 1.2k
authors notes: somebody requested this before i started my blog over! if this finds u, im sending you a cookie and a kiss, as promised x
warnings: fem!reader, use of gendered pet names (princess, pretty girl), dialogue is…….cheesy cringe a little😔, clueless eddie, kissing !!!
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“Goddamit.”
Eddie hisses beside you at the jumpscare on screen. It was the quietest sound, drowned underneath the blood-curdling screams in the film. It probably would’ve gone completely unnoticed. Unluckily for him, it didn’t. Luckily for you, your legs were draped over his lap, so the mechanical jolt of fright sent your own legs jumping into the air.
His head is thrown against the back of his couch as he slaps his free hand over his eyes. You giggle as you watch his skin flush scarlet underneath your stare.
“Eddie, it’s okay,” you coo, voice shaky in between your laughter.
The embarrassment doesn’t quite subside, but the sound of your infectious giggle and the feeling of you moving into his lap to pry away his fingers is enough to have his chest rumbling with mirrored joy. He gazes up at you as you hold his hands.
“You scared, Eds?”
You don’t mean for it to sound like you’re teasing, but he laughs anyway. With a grin, he shakes his head wildly and clasps his hands around your back.
“Nope, I’ve got a princess to protect me.”
He pushes you down into the couch so that he’s hovering above you, and you respond with a squeal. Your legs are locked around his waist as his hands dig into the plush of the cushion beside your head. He leans down with a proud smile to press a kiss to your mouth.
The kisses are sloppy. He litters your face and neck in open-mouthed love bites, none hard enough to leave any mark. When he reaches your lips, it’s more smiles and spit than any real kiss, but neither of you seem to mind. Not when the smell of his citrusy shampoo wraps around your figure to make you dizzy. Not when your hands roam along his biceps and up to the nape of his neck like you’re the only thing keeping him from floating away.
It’s a mess of hushed teasing and giggles and clashing teeth, and it’s perfect.
As he pushes himself up for a moment of air, he looks off to the side before releasing a displeased sigh. “Shit, it’s getting late,” he observes solemnly.
He sits back on his heels, just far away enough for you to hold yourself up. You follow his line of sight and find that the digital clock on the shelf reads 11:15. Your shoulders deflate and your heart sinks.
“It is kinda late, isn’t it?”
Once you turn back to him, his eyes are stuck on you. Gorgeous, dilated pupils run across the high points of your cheekbones and back down to your lips. His gaze commands a rush of heat to caress your skin until your insides are set ablaze and your mouth is painfully dry.
The utter lack of urgency may as well have been a weighted blanket.
One of his arms snakes around your waist to pull you into him further. He leans forward, tilting his head ever-so-slightly to catch your lips.
This one is less playful than the ones you shared just seconds before. His movements are languid, purposeful. Like all the air had been stolen from his lungs and you were oxygen.
Your elbows threaten to buckle underneath your weight. Though, you’d happily sink back into the couch cushions and let them swallow you whole, if it meant you got to kiss him all night. And he’d just as eagerly take up the opportunity to have you underneath him for as long as he could entertain.
But he’s pulling away. Your foreheads rest together as you wear matching expressions of bliss: eyes closed, and slick, kiss-bitten lips parted. His thumb sinks underneath the hem of your shirt to dance across your skin. Another weighted blanket.
“I’ll drive ya,” he whispers reluctantly.
You watch as Eddie stands to stretch, and the warmth follows. A pensive wrinkle makes home between his brows as he slowly moves to grab his jacket. This, along with the nagging feeling in your chest, was routine whenever you spent the day at his place.
It’s not that he hasn’t offered for you to spend the night before, because he’s suggested it quite a few times. It was just so scary. The nerves bubble and spill over and it’s just all a mess inside your head whenever you want to ask.
Today is something different, though. All that occupies your mind is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie and suddenly, you think it’d be impossible to spend the night without him.
“Really? You’re not tired?” The questions run off your tongue without a second thought.
“Well, I’m wide awake now,” he jests, running the metal of his rings over his bottom lip. He pats the pockets of his jacket for his keys, and when he comes up empty, he searches the kitchen counter.
The fear creeps back into your head as you watch him rifle through drawers. It makes you shrink in on yourself as you trudge over to your shoes that lay haphazardly by the door.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to drive if you’re tired,” you ask softer.
Noticing a change in your demeanor, he looks up at you to see your teeth worrying at your lower lip. “I’m sure,” he insists sweetly, “Can’t let my pretty girl drive alone in the dark.”
He finally finds his keys and moves over to where his own pair of shoes rested beside yours. He sends you an easy grin and it makes it all the harder to swallow down your anxieties.
“It’s foggy out,” you mention faintly. You don’t know what the weather is like outside. It was merely you grasping at straws to freeze him in his motion. You’re sure it’s blatantly obvious at this point, expecting a light tease from the wavy-haired boy.
But oblivious as he is, Eddie peeks out the blinds anyway to scan the trailer park. He hums. It’s a little gloomy, but hardly anything to worry about. Just as he’s about to reassure you again, he pauses when he spots your fingers fidgeting with a loose seam in your sleeve. You’re staring down at your shoes — which you’ve purposely done a poor job of putting on, as they’re only halfway on your feet — with your tongue bitten between your teeth.
“Maybe…” you pause to take a deep inhale. “It’s probably better if I stay? If that's okay with you, I mean.”
Then, does Eddie freeze. And he feels like an absolute fool.
He feels like an absolute fool for being the one to get up first. For not getting the totally conspicuous hints you’ve been trying to give him for the past minute and a half. For being so focused on trying to find his damn keys that he hoped he’d lost in the first place. And for standing in shocked silence for so long that you’ve begun to frown and properly shove your ankles inside your shoes.
“Yeah,” he replies abruptly, reaching out for your arm.
“Yeah?” The hopeful rise in your inflection makes him gently squeeze your elbow.
“Yeah, of course you can stay. I want you to.”
You nod. You duck your chin to your chest to hide the shy smile on your lips, but to no avail. Eddie can spot your bright grin from a mile away and makes him go weak in the knees with a blush that he’s sure is making its way to his cheeks.
“Just to be safe, ya know,” you add before toeing off your shoes and pushing them closer to the wall.
“Right. To be safe.”
5K notes · View notes
2-years-of-kp · 6 months
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Happy two years of KinnPorsche The Series and welcome to this year's anniversary event!
In celebration of the show and us as a fandom, this event will host prompts and a rewatch, so we can enjoy the show once more, and to encourage creativity and new creations for its second anniversary. Starting from April 9th, the event will run across 28 days; dedicating two days to each episode and one prompt pair as listed below.
Any and all creations are welcome! You don't have to follow the prompts, they are just here to give you some inspiration if you'd like.
Make sure to use the tag #kpanniversary2024 on any anniversary-related posts so we can reblog them to this blog and feel free to add your writing to the Kinnporsche Two Year Anniversary collection on AO3 as well!
Got any questions? Feel free to send an ask!
REWATCH SCHEDULE
Apr 9-10: Episode 1
Apr 11-12: Episode 2
Apr 13-14: Episode 3
Apr 15-16: Episode 4
Apr 17-18: Episode 5
Apr 19-20: Episode 6
Apr 21-22: Episode 7
Apr 23-24: Episode 8
Apr 25-26: Episode 9
Apr 27-28: Episode 10
Apr 29-30: Episode 11
May 1-2: Episode 12
May 3-4: Episode 13
May 5-6: Episode 14
PROMPTS
List 1: Your Favourites
Ep 1 - Apr 9-10: Favourite Main Character
Ep 2 - Apr 11-12: Favourite Supporting Character
Ep 3 - Apr 13-14: Favourite Episode
Ep 4 - Apr 15-16: Favourite Location/Set
Ep 5 - Apr 17-18: Underrated Character
Ep 6 - Apr 19-20: Favourite Romantic Relationship
Ep 7 - Apr 21-22: Favourite Platonic/Familial Relationship
Ep 8 - Apr 23-24: Favourite Scene
Ep 9 - Apr 25-26: Favourite Outfit
Ep 10 - Apr 27-28: Underrated Ship
Ep 11 - Apr 29-30: Favourite Family
Ep 12 - May 1-2: Favourite Parallel
Ep 13 - May 3-4: Underrated Quote
Ep 14 - May 5-6: Your Choice!
List 2: Your Interpretation
Ep 1 - Apr 9-10: Fate
Ep 2 - Apr 11-12: Misfit
Ep 3 - Apr 13-14: Heroes
Ep 4 - Apr 15-16: Tension
Ep 5 - Apr 17-18: Regret
Ep 6 - Apr 19-20: Comfort
Ep 7 - Apr 21-22: Heist
Ep 8 - Apr 23-24: Haunting
Ep 9 - Apr 25-26: Trust
Ep 10 - Apr 27-28: Manipulate
Ep 11 - Apr 29-30: Villains
Ep 12 - May 1-2: Identity
Ep 13 - May 3-4: Secrets
Ep 14 - May 5-6: Legacy
RULES AND GUIDELINES
Any kind of creations (fics, drabbles, fanart, edits, gifs, videos, etc.) are welcome!
Use the tag #kpanniversary2024 so your creation can be reblogged to this blog.
Be respectful of other people; this event is no space for negativity.
Mature and NSFW content is welcome, but must be tagged properly - both on Tumblr and on AO3.
Feel free to skip days, only participate for one day, etc. however you like!
You can participate in the prompts, the rewatch or both - it is up to you!
Late submissions are allowed.
One prompt or a combination of both prompts can be used, and all prompts are open to personal interpretation.
Multiple creations per prompt/prompt pair are welcome!
You do not have to follow the prompts, any creations during the course of the event are welcome.
Since this event is meant to celebrate the show itself, no actor content or behind the scenes content will be reblogged.
DISCLAIMER
This event has drawn inspiration from the previous year's anniversary event, as well as Kinnporsche Week in 2022.
Happy creating!
387 notes · View notes
dulcewrites · 2 years
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Fool Me Once (pt 2)
Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)
Summary: Despite learning about Aemond cheating on you, life has never been sweeter. Who knew being so bad could be so good.
Warnings: manipulation, mentions/allusions to pregnancy issues, mentions of self harm
A/N: first, I just have to say thank you for the response to part 1. I truly had no idea it would get the reception it would. Thank you to everyone who followed me as well. I hope I can continue to produce stuff y’all like. I’m hoping to write more hotd stuff, Aemond and non Aemond related. I plan on taking a small hiatus but will be back around thanksgiving weekend. I will be writing on/off during that time but just away for a trip/the holiday. If you have any hotd requests my inbox is always open. I would try to get them out either before my hiatus next week (11/16) or after it ends (11/26). I’m pretty open to writing any character, though I will warn you I’m way more fascinated by the greens so they just come easier to me. Anyway please reblog, like, and follow if you read anything you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽. And some housekeeping: in this Aegon is not r*pist who enjoys watching children fight (the hotd are truly…. not right for the cartoonishly evil way they wrote Aegon). He’s just petty and neglected. Also the timing of this is different from the books bc Aemond meets Alys pre dance.
Fmo masterlist
Blog Masterlist
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A bastard Strong. The irony is not lost on you. Your straight-laced husband fucking someone who is the complete opposite you. Older, no kids, no title, and no duty to uphold. At this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Instead, it makes your blood boil in the most delicious way. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize how you’ve been going through the motions; endlessly sleepwalking, hoping one day Aemond would come around. It woke you up to how much he’s taken advantage of you. He sees your kindness, and aversion to standing out as a weakness. Something he can manipulate and twist like one of his daggers.
The both of you must have forgetten where you came from. A rich, well respected house. The only daughter of smart, albeit conniving, family that knows how to get what they want. Your family didn’t have dragons or absurd ideas of exceptionalism to help you gain power. You’ve learned that inflated egos and prideful indulges can cloud Targaryen judgment. A trait you hope skips your children.
Shame on you for thinking Aemond would be different. Shame on him for the carefully curated facade.
All you do after Larys Strong comes to you the first time is think. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this many options in front of you. Your mother’s words about patience run through your head. Keeping your wits is key. Play your hand too quickly, and you lose all leverage. You have Daella and the babe in your belly to think about. You stood pat in the beginning; Lord Strong simply relaying messages to you. You make sure Alys gets the letter Aemond wrote, and the ones after that. Lord Larys makes sure you get the details of each letter exchanged.
When the days grew lonely, and your body aches because of the babe in your stomach, you think about the letters. The declarations of love and recounts of lust filled meetups simmer in your head, but it’s the mentions of you that makes the anger sizzle and crackle. It makes the guilt you feel wash away.
You question if the rumor is true. That his Alys is a witch. Does her magic allow her to see the way Helaena can? Fuzzy premonitions and dreams that only make sense after they happen; a gift and a curse. A part of you wishes it to be true. You hope while your stomach stirs with untold truths, hers stirs with regret. Maybe the pain that runs through you leaves an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. That she can’t quite put her finger on it, but she feels you.
You wonder if when Aemond prays, he asks the Father to protect him… to protect her. The same way when you pray, you ask the Warrior to help you find the courage to destroy him.
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It started with a bruise. A bruise that you don’t even remember how you got. Maybe one of those things you just wake up with. But it’s there, on the inside part of your left arm. It’s starting to fade but an otherwise noticeable bruise that stands out when you wear something with shorter sleeves.
The idea doesn’t come to you till you see the curiosity in Alicent’s eyes when you absentmindedly rub the bruise while asking if she’s seen Aemond. It’s only you two in the walkway; an unusually quiet day at the Red Keep. Her eyes go from it to the far away look in your eyes. It makes her tilt her head in thought.
“No dear, I haven’t,” her eyes go back to the scratch. “Are you doing alright? I know for some, the second babe can be even harder than the first.”
You look down at your arm, and something just clicks.
“I’m fine,” you start, then you make your voice tremble a bit. “I will be fine. I think I’m just tired.”
You give her a strained smile, and she returns one that tells you she doesn’t believe you. You can feel her big brown eyes burning into your back when you walk past her towards your chambers. There could be two thoughts in her head: you did this yourself or someone else did it to you. Either way, her son’s sweet pregnant lady wife is not doing well, and her son is nowhere to be found. Queen Alicent is one of the smartest, if not the smartest, person you know. She sees the change in her son; the change in the dynamic between Aemond and you.
It hits you. It would be too easy to physically harm Aemond. Though the idea of taking the blade that hangs from his hips and putting it to his throat has crossed your mind more times than you’re proud of. It would be too easy to get Larys to kill Alys. You don’t want to give Aemond the satisfaction of having his whore’s blood on your hands.
Where’s the fun in killing when your rage could be channeled into something more… methodical.
Under all that false bravado is the little boy who got picked on for not having a dragon. To break the man means bringing out that little boy. A truly broken man can’t love anyone. Isolation, and self hatred. What a gorgeous combination for your dear husband.
If this is going to work you need to up the ante.
So, you write. If Aemond and Alys can document their love, you can document your pain. You sent your lady in waiting out to get a blank book from one of the maesters. The color dyed cow skin feels smooth under your hands. There needs to be a slow build. Each day you grow closer and closer to shattering. Whoever reads it needs to know Aemond brought you to this place. He is the villain in the story of the poor, innocent wife that did nothing but carry his children and try to love him.
It will read like a diary, but to you it is a creation. A mixture of truth and imagination. A manifestation of pent up feelings. Purging and revenge all rolled up into one. You make sure to mention how terrified you are for your safety, and for you children’s safety. How an angry or disenchanted Aemond is nothing to toy with, especially if he has a bastard witch on his side. How maybe life would be better for Aemond if you just weren’t around.
But this fading bruise isn’t enough. Neither is just having a diary that will be discovered in due time. A deep cut, a dark bruise, half hazardously placed hand prints.. now that could work.
There’s something cathartic about the pain you feel when the dagger slices through your skin. The blood is so red and warm. It smears so smoothly on the page. Blood on your dress, cloth pressed to the wound, and wandering the halls is how Ser Criston finds you. You notice the worried, confused look in his eyes when you stutter out an ‘I don’t know’ when he asks what happened.
As the maester tends to your wound, you notice how Alicent and Criston stand in the corner of Alicent’s quarters. They occasionally glance at you while they whisper to each other. You recognize the familiar crinkle she gets in her forehead when she’s upset. All her children do it too.
“Sweetling, we both think it might be a good idea to give you your own knight of the kingsguard,” she sits next you. “Just to help you and… keep an eye on you during this vulnerable time.”
You blink. Not one mention of her son. But it’s clear to see how Ser Criston is with his queen. Submissive, and utterly devoted. Having someone like that is an asset. So, you smile weakly and nod. The more people who see you in this way, the better.
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Ser Quinton Throne was quiet in the beginning. As if he was scared to be in your space. A far cry from the rambunctious knight his brother, Rickard, is. Moving past the initial shyness, he is attentive and even indulges Daella’s fascination with him. Despite you telling her not to, she would always run up to him, tugging on his white cloak to get his attention. She likes having someone around just as much as you.
The distance between Aemond and you had started to carry over into his relationship with Daella. Kids are more intuitive than adults give them credit for. Your throat felt tight when you daughter finally asks where father goes. You lie; it comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would. It makes you think if this is how easy it is for Aemond to lie to you. Or for everyone to not gloss over the clear problems in your life.
You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having a man around, even if it was his job. It was Aemond’s job to do right by you, and he couldn’t do that. A man carrying out his orders with a warm smile was welcomed. The comfort of having someone who sweared his allegiances to you, and only you, and intended on keeping them.
You look from your embroidery loop to see Daella and Ser Quinton sword fighting with wooden swords. It’s an uncharacteristically sunny day. Perfect to get much needed fresh air, and apparently going to battle.
“She’s gotten quite good.”
Like a storm rolling in to ruin a sunny day, your husband’s tone is ever cold and distant. You hate the uncomfortable energy that radiates when he sits next to you.
“Yes, she has,” you stare at the Lysene lilac flower starting to come to life on your loop. “He’s good with her as well.”
You know he won’t like you saying that. He hates Quinton being around, and he especially hates how Daella taken a liking to him. Aemond scoffs and mumbles something under his breath you can’t make out.
“It’s just lovely having real protector around,” you continue to push your luck. “Someone so attentive and… strong.“
You look at with his a sickening sweet smile. He opens his mouth to say something, a complaint or rude comment since those seem to be the only reasons he talks to you, but he is interrupted by Daella yelling out for him.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters to you, getting up.
“Oh you’ll actually be here long enough for that?”
The words slip out your mouth and it makes him turn to glare at you. It reminds you of the gossip you heard about him when you first arrived at court. How cold the king’s second son can be. It should’ve been a warning to you.
Quinton takes it as his cue to leave them be; you know he can sense how much Aemond doesn’t appreciate his presence. You watch as Daella clings to her father. As selfish as it sounds, you patiently wait for the day she too realizes he can’t be depended on.
“My mother used to make me embroider,” your knight’s voice breaks you out of looking on. “Something about being dangerous with a needle is just as great as being dangerous with a sword.”
You take a good look at him. If Aemond is the moon - ethereal, mysterious, and always changing, then Quinton is the sun. Bright, forward facing, and shines brighter with time. His choppy black hair, beard, and warm standing in contrast to your husband’s Targaryen features.
“Sounds like a smart woman,” you smile as he sits next to you.
His eyes linger on your embroidery work before traveling to you right arm. The blade wound was just starting to scab and scar over. His first day on duty was marked by seeing your husband give a long lecture on safety and ‘using your brain’ after Aemond saw your wound. The blade cut wasn’t under pure circumstances, but the look of resentment on your face was real. He saw that. He’s never asked what really happened to your arm.
“How are you my lady,” he whispers. You told him he can address you by your name, but he still insist on the formal names especially around others. “Is the babe giving you trouble.”
Ser Quinton, Helaena, and Alicent are the only people that seem to care about your well being, on top of the babe’s. Aemond concern went making sure the babe was fine to just not asking all together. It’s better that way, you think. You don’t think you’d be able to take fake concern about your little ‘mistake’.
“My bladder is being pushed on, I’m finding clumps of my hair on my pillow, and Maester Oliver told me this baby will weigh more than Daella did,” you reply lightly. “But other than that I’m doing fine.”
This pregnancy had knocked you on your ass. You’re sure the stress and thoughts that consume you don’t help. You know how it feels to come into a fracture family; it makes you feel awful for the babe in your stomach. Your parents tried hard, frankly too hard, to pretend things were good between them. Trying to prove their union was more than a duty for their houses. Till this day, you don’t know what’s worse: knowing they didn’t share that love or the years you watched them fake everything. They had ambitions, and to carry them out there needed to be an appearance of an united front. You took your father’s lead, knowing he always tried to have your best interest. The relationship you have with your mother often ebbing and flowing, especially since your marriage.
When you ravened your mother about your pregnancy troubles, she tells you that this is your responsibility to your husband. Harsh and utterly true. You don’t know if your father ever had indiscretions like Aemond, but you know she’d never plot the way you do. Her calculating nature showing up in different ways. Instead of going after him, she chose to focus on elevating you.
Her and Queen Alicent remind you of each other. Devoted to a fault. A victim who had no other choice but to fall in line.You pray for the both of them. Pray that they find peace with the sacrifices they’ve made. Pray that you never get that far. A shell of yourself. Duty, responsibility, cleaning up others’ messes - what a dull way to live.
“Once he’s out, I’m sure it will all be worth it,” says Ser Quinton, voice not wavering.
He’s trying to be kind, mentioning the working theory in the castle that you’re having a boy. You try to smile at the thought. It’s hard to believe that. Plan or not, you still have to know the truth about the father of your children. There is hole left in your heart about that. Him disrespecting you is one thing, but his words pertaining to your unborn child is another. A sudden spurt of anger rushes over you thinking about everything. It makes you stand abruptly.
“I’m feeling tired,” you watch as Daella pretend to stab her father with her sword. Her giggles ringing out when he reaches to pick her up. The dichotomy of Aemond Targaryen will always fascinate you as much as it terrifies you. How he manages to smile in her face, and lie to yours is quite a sight to watch. “I’ll send Margret out to get Daella.”
Waiting for the perfect moment is not going to work. There no time like the present.
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The stiff upper lip of this family is something you noticed the moment you stepped into their presence. It’s seeped into the way they gatekeep a dying Viserys. Alicent is cold and collected in the most beautiful way. A sharp glittering icicle. A pretty rose littered with thorns to keep you admiring from a distance. Even Helaena, who you consider a friend, keeps certain things close to the chest. It’s better to keep the full truth away from her.
But there’s Aegon.
Pitiful, and lonely Prince Aegon. A drunk with a bad attitude. But he’s also the most painfully self-aware person you know. There will be times that you and him exchange looks, as you are in on the joke. That everything is a farce. One day someone will just come up and say it’s all been a bad dream. You think it’s the reason why he frustrates Aemond so much. The teasing on top of him never taking the Targaryen name seriously. Aegon spends his days trying to drink and fuck his way out of thinking about his life. Stuck in a royal cuckold. The first born son of a king with nothing to show for it.
He’s messy, nosy, and so openly brash. He’s your missing chess piece. The perfect pawn.
You leave the diary around places in the castle you know he will be. It’s not until you conveniently leave it in the play room where all Daella, Jaehaera, and Jaehaerys all frequent that you know he’s taken the bait. His lilac eyes seem to follow you whenever you two are in the same room. It takes days for him to confront you; book in hand and wry look on his face.
“Is it true? Everything you wrote?”
You stroke your belly while looking at him, a small smile on your face.
“Does it matter that if it is,” you tilt your head, and his eyes glitter with something you’re not used to seeing.
He mirrors your head tilt with a full blown smile on his face this time. It’s like a bright light after weeks of darkness. A person who also sees through the bullshit that enraptures once you call yourself a Targaryen.
“I greatly underestimated you my good sister,” he whispers. You know he’s thinking about his own words. ‘Pretty but horribly dull’.
“That’s fine,” you motion to the seat next to you. “You can make it up to me.”
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Queen Alicent stands facing the fire. Aegon, Helaena, and Ser Quinton off to the side. All of them standing across from where you sit. Aegon gives you a knowing look while Quinton’s eyes are filled with pity and anger. Pity for his princess, anger towards his prince. Helaena looks like she wants to say something.
“I… do not know what to say,” her voice is strained with pain. You know this hurts for her. The image of the perfect son being destroyed. The pedestal she put him on crumbling before him.
You’ve gotten better at crying after Aegon told you tears will be necessary to sell it. It’s an automatic response now. The perfectly timed emotion that breaks like flood gates when Alicent holds out the diary. You say you’re embarrassed. That you never meant for anyone to read it, especially not anyone in the family. Aegon gets to be the concerned good brother. He rubbed your back, while his mother called for Helaena. She needed to know who else knew about this.
“I can say what everyone is thinking,” Aegon pipes up. “He’s a fucking cunt.”
“Aegon.”
His mother turns to glare at him, but it doesn’t deter him.
“Walking around with that self righteousness just to fuck a Strong,” he scoffs. “Calling his child a mistake?”
The words makes Alicent sigh, and squeeze her eyes shut. Helaena continues to play with her fingers with a quizzical look in her eye. If Aegon of all people can judge, the actions must be bad.
“This all my fault,” you decide to take it up a notch. Your breath catches. “I must’ve done something to deserve this.”
“Oh my sweet girl,” Alicent walks over and sits next to you, pulling you into her chest. “None of this is your fault.
“I just don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you continue. That part is true; what the seven hells did you do to deserve this marriage? “This, and the baby, and missing my family. I’m just so unhappy here.”
Alicent strokes your hair. You can feel her heart thumping in her chest. You can tell she’s upset and scared. Scared for what your unhappiness means. You’re a risk now.
“Maybe… my father can come and visit. He hasn’t been here since Daella was born.”
After you got married, your parents left court to tend to your house. They felt their work was done. That the marriage was as far as their political ambitions can go. They visit from time to time to see their granddaughter but normally you’re the one who has to make the trip.
“Of course,” you can see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m sure the Hand would love to pick his brain on some things. Your father has always been so kind and helpful”
Queen Alicent is as predictable as she is smart. Your dad thought your marriage would help him get a seat in the small council. When no offer came, his ego was bruised. If your marriage couldn’t, maybe a desperate Alicent can. The idea of sending a raven about the news makes you have to bite back a smile. An ally in an castle full of strangers.
“I’ll speak to Aemond about this,” she nods to herself. “You don’t need to be worrying about this in your condition.”
The disappointment is clear in smooth voice. Before you can reply with a thank you, Helaena finally piped up.
“A baby’s green eyes spurs brighter skies.”
She mutters it before looks at you curious. You look down at your swollen belly, feeling confused. Neither Aemond or you have green eyes. You try to push the sinking feeling out of your stomach. Even Aegon, who normally ignores Helaena’s cryptic language, has perked up a little.
You take a look at Ser Quinton… his eyes as green as spring grass.
Ok this is my first one doing a tag list, so I’m sorry for those I’ve missed. It only let me do 50??? Idk it’s it’s different on desktop or I’m doing something wrong. Hopefully I can find a more conducive way for this. I also only tagged people who specifically asked: @afro-hispwriter @crispmarshmallow @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @its-sam-allgood @lol-im-done @grey-water-colors @sassysaxsolo @justsumstufff @lilithskywalker @dc-marvel-girl96 @bekky06 @claudie-080102 @cloudroomblog @shelbythequeen @crazylokonugget @solacestyles @instantpeachpeace @katyadenauer @nsainmoonchild @deeeeexx @iwanttohitmyself @rosa-berberifolia @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @princessmiaelicia @bregarc @castellomargot @thesadvampire @chaosmagiq @icarusignite @happinessinthebeing @flavorofsalt @wishfulwithwine @slut-for-eddie-munson @rosaryos @mistalli @inana-mm @winxschester @papery-maniac @nolongereviliwantlove @fultimefangirl @missusnora @skinmittensgoblin @duckworthbean @b00kdiary @chiyausu @alexandra-001 @tachibubu @juneisreading @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @verycollectivecreator
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fiabex · 2 months
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Fic In A Box 2024
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Schedule
August 9-16: Nominations Pre-Gaming (participants can load tags from last year’s tagset into this tagset)
August 17: Tag Nominations Open
August 24: Tag Nominations Close
August 25-26: Nominations Cleanup
August 27: Signups Open
September 1: Swap requests open
September 7: Signups Close
September 10: Assignments Out By This Date
September 11: Swap requests close
October 20: Assignments Due
October 27: First Extension Due Date
November 3: Final Extension Due Date
November 10: Last Day To Submit Makeup Assignments
November 16: Work Reveals
November 30: Creator Reveals
All times 10pm Eastern
What is Fic In A Box
A gift exchange is an event where participants create fanworks to gift to each other. Fic In A Box is a fanwork exchange with a large minimum gifting requirement and several unique features. Gifts can include fic, art, audio, video— and much much more.
How It Works/The Nitty-Gritty:
All participants in Fic In A Box are requesting 10,000 words of fanfiction by default, but can opt in to other mediums to give their gifter options. Mediums can include writing structure things like "in-world rpf" for your gift, or include creative formats as far away from fic as different types of art, knitting patterns, logic puzzles, and so on. There were 288 mediums to choose from last year, and we add more every year.
For mediums other than the written word, pretty much any medium will be accepted, as long as it can be digitized for delivery and we can agree on a clear and easily checked equivalent to 1k of written fic. Participants who primarily work in non-writing mediums are very welcome and will get specially matched (as long as they give the mods a heads-up) so they'll have an assignment they can complete. If your art form is fannish cross-stitch? We'd love to have you join us.
Participants have the option to split the 10k words (or equivalent in an opted-into medium) that they owe between several separate works (say, one fic of 3k and a another of 7k) to reach 10k total. The minimum word count per work is 1k by default, but lower wordcount works will count if your recipient has opted into receiving them. (Drabble is a medium that can be opted into!) And initial assignments are 10k for one person, but at the start of the exchange the mods run Swaps which will give you the chance to split that 10k into multiple shorter assignments for multiple recipients!
So when it comes time to turn in gifts, you might turn in 3k worth of art, 4k in fic, and 3k in typesetting a fic (10k total), and then you receive 8k of fic and 2k of map design (10k total). Last year 265 people signed up, and we exchanged 993 gifts at the end of the creation period, everything from fic to reddit posts to logic puzzles to museum catalogues to CYOA stories to colouring pages!
If you cannot complete the full 10k (or other medium equivalent) but are still able to post one or more smaller, complete works, you can default on just the remaining wordcount. You will then be guaranteed (via finding a back up gifter-- "pinch hitting"-- if necessary) a gift equivalent to the amount you were able to submit (rounded down to the nearest 1k). There are also options to "earn back" guaranteed minimum amount by taking pinch hits or completing your original assignment.
Questions?
For more information about Medium rulesets, signing up, nominations of fandoms, relationships, or medium forms, swaps, or much more (questions about how pinch hits work? we have documentation about that), check out the dreamwidth blog!
If you have questions, feel free to ask them here, check the dreamwidth blog for much more documentation, email the mods, or join our discord server. The discord server has a lot of experienced participants happy to answer questions, and you are also welcome to join just to hang out!
Note: you must be 18 or older to join FIAB.
Links
Ao3 Collection (sign up here once signups open)
Tag Set
Dreamwidth Blog
Discord (includes question channel)
184 notes · View notes
minniesmutt · 3 months
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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPTS: NSFW 11 "let me show you why you should stay in bed" + FLUFF 2 "it's too cold! come back" ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: FEM!READRE, ORAL (M.REC), PRAISE, SWITCH!CHAN, TEASING, BEGGING, IMPLIED SECOND ROUND ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.8K ☾ ━━━ NOTE: repost from my old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     “Channie…?” Y/n called into the dark room as she felt around the bed, not finding the warmth of her boyfriend
     “Yeah love?” Chan asked. He looked back at his girlfriend from where he was in the closet, grabbing out a few clothes.
     “Where you going?” She asked as she sat up and rubbed her eyes
     “Gotta stop by the studio for something. I’ll be back soon.” Chan walked back, leaned over the bed, and kissed her forehead as he cupped her cheek.
     “But it’s your day off. Grab it tomorrow.” Y/n whined as she took in his appearance. He had just put on a pair of boxers and had a shirt in his other hand.
     “I know babe. I promise I’ll be quick.” Y/n grabbed his arm in a small attempt to stop him from pulling away and pulling him back to bed
    “No. It’s too cold! Come back now.” Y/n complained
     “Don’t get pouty on me.” Chan sighed as he sat back on the bed and pulled her into him “You know I can’t resist you when you pout baby.”
     “If it gets you to come back to bed I’ll keep doing it.” Y/n smiled at him, cuddling up to his bare chest, running her fingers along his abs
     “Baby…” Chan sighed.
     Y/n took the chance to pull herself up onto his lap and straddle him. Chan set the t-shirt down on the bed and wrapped his arms around her waist while she laid against him. “Stay. go in tomorrow for it.”
     Y/n placed soft kisses along his collarbone and pecs, playing with the waistband of his boxers
     “Love…” Chan sighed as his head fell back on the headboard.
     “Let me show you why you should stay in bed,” Y/n whispered against his skin
     “Show me, baby,” Chan replied. 
     Y/n smiled as she slipped off his lap, laying between his lap as she kissed down his abs, her breasts rubbing against his hardening cock. Chan watched with a smirk playing on his lips. Her fingers slipped under the gem of his boxers and pulled them down just enough to get him out of them. 
     “Pretty,” Y/n commented as she looked up at him while taking him into her hand. 
     Chan groaned as she pumped him a few times to help him. Sticking her tongue out and wiping at the little bit of pre-cum from his tip. Chan watched as she pulled her tongue back in and swallowed.
     “So good for me,” Chan ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face.
     Y/n smiled and kissed down his shaft. Slowly pumping him as she made it to the base. Chan closed his eyes and just enjoyed her getting him off. Y/n placed a couple of kisses on his thighs before moving to place a few on his balls. The touch made him let out a high-pitched whine for more as he bucked up into her hand once.
     “Baby, mouth,” Chan whined as he gripped the back of her head
     “What do you say love?” Y/n teased as she slowly kissed up him, still pumping at her slow pace.
     “Please, bay. Want… need you… Please…”
     “Please what love?” Y/n chuckled as she teased his red tip with her tongue.
     “Wanna be in your mouth, please..” Chan whined
     Y/n slowly slid him into her mouth, enclosing him in the warmth. Chan mewled at the eat and bucked his hips up into her, shoving himself more into her as well. Y/n moaned around him making his head fall back against the headboard again. 
     Y/n bobbed her head on what she could fit in her mouth. Letting her hand pump what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Occasionally he looked up at his chest rising and falling fast as he kept a tight grip on her roots. Chan’s head fell forward as he watched her go up and down on his cock
     “Always so pretty when you blow me,” the praises fell from his mouth as his cock twitched in her mouth. Y/n moaned around his cock one more time before he couldn’t take it anymore. He never was able to last long in her mouth, she knew just how to get him to come. 
     He stopped her head as he came down her throat, hand still milking him for all he was. Curses fell from his lips before he came down. Y/n pulled him out of her mouth and swallowed his loud.
     “Stay in bed?” Y/n asked, doe eyes looking up at him.
     “Fuck it, you convinced me.” Chan smiled as he pulled her up to him to kiss her.
     “Good,” Y/n mumbled against his lips.
     “On you’re back baby, we got all day. I’m gonna take my time with you today,” Chan smiled as he started rolling her over onto the sheets.
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☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR
☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback
© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE
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famemonsterrr · 1 year
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Astrology observations part 11;
(Don’t copy my work pliz and these aren’t facts but what I have seen and experienced in my life. If you can’t relate to any of these. It okay we are all different)
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-Pisces are really good gaslighters like they argue and they know they losing and then boom…you are the one who is crazy. (Girly pops how about stop it)
- speaking of Pisces…maybe I’m saying it from personal experience but I can’t keep an aesthetic and even when I have find a aesthetic Im changing again. It’s endless circle…I hope another Pisces can relate with me:)
- i have seen an Aquarius women being so quick minded and have unique takes but also I have seen Aquarius women being really shy and slow to talk. There is no between with them.
- y’all think that Taurus are the lazy and don’t like to work out but they are so active and most of them love sports or gym.
- the second best venus is cancer…soooo giving soooo sweet and lovinggggg 🥰
- Aries placements show PASSION in any planet/house they are placed . Like if you have Aries moon you will be really vocal about ur emotions. If you have mercury then you will be passionate about ur opinions ect.
- Taurus and libra are the type of people who are seductive and flirty so naturally but if doesn’t work out they will be so pissed.
- Pisces are insane when they getting obsessed with something they like. They will make sure everyone in their group will know what new show/book/character ect. they started liking.
- Aquarius placements are the type of people who love anything that has to do with universe,planets ect. (Some of them people I know they follow on Instagram space accounts or nasa)
- Capricorn mars are workaholic…they always do things right to get where they want. (A placement that I kinda wish i had) "money money money must be funny in the rich man’s world"
- It’s from my personal observation but we tend to connect mostly with singers that have the same moon sign as we do. Maybe I’m the only one but from day 1 I loved they way Ariana grande was expressing her emotions through music and then I released we both have libra moon. So next time check the moon sign of ur fave artist 🤌🏻 (it’s my showing that I’m a big Ariana girly)
- Scorpio Venus people are my favourite cause they like you a lot and they know it but you don’t know it. They will not let you go and if they do they will return back to you no matter what. They will know everything about you and ask a lot about you. They will care about your opinions (when they really don’t care about others). They will share the darkest secrets with you,they personal/family traumas. They are consumed by your existence. (if they have Sagittarius placements maybe they will pretend not care at the same time so you might think u are just friends)
- speaking of Venus…if you are a Scorpio pliz find a Pisces Venus for you. Like insane connection. Soulmate energy and both consumed by each other. (My personal fave duo)
- Gemini Venus need to be studied cause they rush into love and at the same time they can’t settle. (Girly pops maybe decide for once but men are the worst)
- cancer mercury is more dramatic than a Leo but they don’t show it that easily.
- they say don’t date someone who has the same moon sign as you…but I disagree. You will be the same page and react the same way. Understanding from both sides. ( my ex bestie has libra moon and we understood each other so well). Maybe date or hang out with people that have the same moon as you.
- Sagittarius mercury/Venus flirts for joke but they do it so well that you fall for them and then they have to run away from you.
That’s all💙
Here is my masterlist
Thank you for reading my blog so far. Really grateful about that 🫶🏻 and sorry if I do spelling mistakes but I’m not Native American speaker so I try my best. Stay hydrated and healthy 💙
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strawberryspence · 2 years
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Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.
Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.
They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.
Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.
And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.
Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.
There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.
They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.
The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.
It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”
The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”
Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”
It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.
Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)
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samsseptember · 2 months
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Samtember 2024 Calendar, Rules, and Guidelines!
Hi, Sam Wilson Nation! It’s that time of year again when we all get together to celebrate our beloved Sam Wilson’s birth month. That’s right, it’s ✰Samtember2024✰ !!!
As per usual, the event will be running from Friday, September 1st to Saturday, September 30th and there will be prompts set for each day:
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Week 1:
Day 1 - Free Space
Day 2 - Bird Telepathy
Day 3 - Costume
Day 4 - Crossover/Multiverse
Day 5 - Canon Divergence
Day 6 - Hurt/Comfort
Day 7 - Future Fic
Week 2:
Day 8 - On Your Left
Day 9 - Move Your Seat Up
Day 10 - I Never Said Pilot
Day 11 - The Big Three
Day 12 - When Do We Start?
Day 13 - Man, Shut the Hell Up
Day 14 - Moon Stuff
Week 3:
Day 15 - Cap Quartet
Day 16 - Redwing
Day 17 - Mission Fic
Day 18 - Shield
Day 19 - Wakanda
Day 20 - Undercover
Day 21 - Co-Pilots
Week 4 + 2 Days:
Day 22 - Cookout / Boil
Day 23 - Birthday
Day 24 - Fishing
Day 25 - Louisiana
Day 26 - Lovers
Day 27 - The Paul & Darlene
Day 28 - Slice of Life
Day 29 - Wilson Family
Day 30 - Home
We will open a collection on AO3 soon. We will update this when the collection is ready, but when it is you'll also be able to find it by typing samtember2024 in the add to collections option.
You can also tag any works you post with #samtember2024 or tag this blog @samsseptember. Works will be reblogged every day throughout the month. 
What works count for this fan event?
Any of the following count:
fanfic
podfic
fanart
gifsets
photosets / moodboards / collages
graphics
Haikus
videos / edits
playlists
fic rec lists
comments
Whichever way you want to celebrate Sam Wilson, it’s up to you! 
The rest of the FAQ and rules are under the cut.
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FAQ
What is this?
It’s a Sam Wilson fan event.
Is there any pressure?
No pressure at all. Fill one prompt. Fill all the prompts on for the month. Do however many you please.
Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?
Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all 30 prompts at once with one piece of art or fic. If you can fill every single prompt from every single day in one fill, that’d be wild but it’s okay by the rules. You can do any number in between.
Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?
Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.
Should the work I make be Sam Wilson-centric?
Yes. You can make a gen work or a piece with any ship with Sam Wilson in it, but the main focus should be Sam Wilson.
How long will this event run?
It will run from September 1st to September 30th.
I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?
There will be! They will come out daily.
Do I have to post my fic for the prompt on the day of the prompt?
You can if you’d like, but it’s okay if you post a piece on a day other than the day of the prompt.
RULES AND GUIDELINES
What are the guidelines for the event?
For Everyone:
1. Remember to tag @samsseptember in the post as well as #samtember2024.
2. Please also tag the prompt you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).
3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:
a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.
b ) Add it to Samtember 2024 Collection that you can find here.
For Artists:
1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.
2. All visual art forms are welcome:
a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.
b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.
c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.
d) Fan video.
e) Graphics edit.
For Authors:
1. At least 500 words.
2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.
3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.
For Podficcers:
1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.
2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.
3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.
For Fic Rec Lists:
1. You must have at least three fics or podfics on the rec list.
2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.
For Commenters:
1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji (“❤️”) to an essay.
2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.
Things to be mindful of when creating:
For Sam
Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).
Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.
In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.
General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.
For Bucky
Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.
For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.
Specific Tags:
Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.
Have fun and we look forward to all your wonderful works! ✰
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taahko · 7 months
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I just found your blog today can you please explain or point out a post that explains the MASH timeloop thing? I love the show but I've never heard anyone talk abt it that way before
oh yay hurray ive been waiting for an excuse to talk about this lmao sorry this is long
ok so basically maeve (my gf) and i started watching mash for the first time about a month ago and we started joking about it being like the characters were stuck in a time loop mostly because the same basic episode format is repeated over and over, because it's a sitcom from the 70s and the episodes arent meant to be watched en masse where you can start noticing all the little repetitions and plot holes and inconsistencies that naturally occur in longform tv
but then i started to pay attention to the dates being mentioned in the show - famously the korean war never technically ended, but american troops were involved in active on the ground fighting between 1950 and 1953, so the entire 11 seasons of mash have to be squeezed into that three year period. with 251 episodes occurring within 1,129 days, that gives every episode about 4.5 days of real time. so it works right? no time loop right? well wait a sec
for the first 5 seasons or so of mash they give very consistent dates about when things are happening. for example, bj arrives in korea in september of 1952, at the start of season 4. colonel potter arrives about a week after him, and talks about how he has 18 months left before his retirement. that gives us about 7 months for the shows final 7 seasons to take place in, meaning that by the episode 'point of view' in season 7 we should be around december of 1952. in that episode the pov character starts writing a letter home and in the corner he writes the date:
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september of 1951. ok, could be that this episode isn't meant to take place in the regular timeline of the season - maybe for some reason its just like, a random flashback episode. but bj, charles, and potter are all present, even though none of them got to korea until 1952. now i KNOW that this is not like, the True Hidden Secret Lore of MASH, this is the writers realizing they were running out of road and turning back the clock a bit to accommodate for how long the show was running on. but play in my time loop space with me please
more talking points:
consistent jokes about time zones and how difficult it is to call the states because "our today is their yesterday but if you call them now it might not reach them until our tomorrow and by that point our yesterday will be their today"
hawkeye's increasing mania over the seasons and his conviction that the war will never end, comparing the camp to dante's inferno multiple times. maeve once pointed out that the closer hawkeye comes to realizing that he's trapped in a time loop the closer he gets to being institutionalized - and what does the series finale cold open onto ? hawkeye in a mental institution. the only way out is to lose yourself etc. sidenote frank also escaped the time loop by going insane and getting institutionalized
in a war for all seasons bj potter and charles are all present at the 1951 new years party as well as the 1952 new years party
there are three christmas episodes, two of which bj is present for even though he should only have spent one christmas in korea
details of people's families and lives shift around - sometimes potter's got multiple grandchildren, sometimes he only has one, sometimes its a girl, sometimes its a boy, sometimes she's 5, sometimes he's 2
we're not the first people to talk about this either, here's a good video compilation posted a couple yrs ago of time loop moments
overall ive been using the time loop thesis to add another layer to my mash viewing experience. it increases the already present sense of constant dread, anger, frustration, and disgust with their situation that the characters feel, plus it feels like a very poignant take on the united states' constant warmongering and violent existence. it really never ends, it just goes on an on. the future's been canceled by the war department- we're just gonna replay the past.
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daryl-fucking-dixon · 7 months
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theres no better way to break in a new blog then posting NSFW ABCs that absolutely nobody asked for
listen to be honest with y'all I have a crazy sex drive and if I'm in the apocalypse with DARYL DIXON, then um! you better believe I want dick 25/8 (AND BEST BELIEVE ILL GET IT)
im really doing this because its almost like I'm decluttering my brain
CREDITS CREDITS CREDITSS!
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) ☆- We all know Daryl would clean you up and comfort you after sex, he's not the type to fuck and dump.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) ☆- I just feel like Daryl is a major tit guy. He loves them all. Small, big, saggy, he does not care. If it can fit in his hand and his mouth then there's not a single complaint.
☆- Daryl favors his arms, and he feels like a big strong man when you latch onto his bicep.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) ☆- Like I said once, and will be saying for the rest of my life, Daryl Dixon would love to creampie you.
☆- Facials?? He wants to cum all over your face and then fuck you missionary so he can watch the way his release runs down in your mouth and on your cheeks.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) ☆- Daryl Dixon's dirty little secret is that he keeps a pair of your underwear to jerk off with when he goes on long runs. (The longer you wore them for the absolute better)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ☆- Before the world ended Daryl didn't exactly have much sex, only a few hook-ups that happened in dark alleys when he was blasted on hard drugs.
☆- Season 1-4 Daryl would be completely lost. A total clutz when he's ripping your shirt off with trembling hands and very sloppily moving his lips against yours, eager yet needy.
☆- Season 5-11 Daryl wouldn't be as clueless after getting older, taking your shirt off first before pulling you closer by the waist, kissing you slowly and much more coordinated.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
☆- Cowgirl. Ride him to your hearts content. He loves loves loves being underneath you, moaning and whimpering as you bounce on his cock.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
☆- He's too gone in pleasure to be funny or sexy
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ☆- Daryl is definitely hairy, but not too crazy. He's got a dark happy trail leading into thick pubes that rest rest above his base.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
☆- It depends on how clingy Daryl is and how stimulated he is. He likes to wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck so he can mark the skin.
☆- Some nights are filled with pure lovemaking, Daryl panting needily against you as he moans in your ear.
"Love ya so fuckin' much, so glad yer mine"
"Prettiest girl I ever seen, wanna make ya feel good"
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
☆- On those nights when he goes on long runs, all by himself with nothing but the song of nature around him, his head fills with all the memories of the softness of your body, inside and out.
☆- He often finds himself holding the fabric of your underwear against his face, whimpering into them as he twist his wrist and tease his tip, thinking about how badly he wanted to be buried deep inside your warm heat.
☆- Once just isn't enough for him. He'll stroke himself completely empty to the thought of you. The sounds of his very needy moans and wet drag of his cum-coated hand overrode the sound of nature.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
☆- DARYL DIXON CERTIFIED BREEDING KINK.
☆- Daryl also has a choking kink that works both ways.
☆- He loves to grip your throat from behind and watch how your face contorts with every thrust, listening to your breathless and choked-off moans.
☆- He also loves to watch the way you bounce on his cock, steadying yourself with your hands tightly around his neck, riding him desperately for your own pleasure.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
☆- Everywhere. If he can put your back against it, he can fuck you against it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
☆- You. No matter what you do, just once long glance and Daryl goes weak in his knees, biting his lips as his cock stirs.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
☆- Don't clown me but threesome. Daryl Dixon does not like to share his woman, friend or foe. He wants no other man to lay his hands, eyes, or dick on you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
☆- We all know that Daryl loves to eat pussy. Not matter how long or how many times he's done it, he will not get tired of the taste of you on his tongue and lingering in his mouth afterwards.
☆- He also loves getting head from you. The way you swirl your tongue around his tip and suck it drives his eyes into the back of his skull, a deep groan coming from his chest. Daryl is honestly an oral lover.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
☆- A pretty good combination of both. Depending on the mood, the night starts sensually with lots of eager kisses and roaming hands, Daryl's hips sloppily and lazily thrusting into you at first.
☆- When eager kisses become slow and deep, that's when lazy thrusts become quick and controlled, his cock sliding deeper into your velvety walls. Sometimes Daryl gets so wrapped up in how good he feels, he can't help how fast his hips start to snap against you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
☆- Only if it's absolutely safe. The first quickie you two ever had was horrifically cut short by a random walker almost biting the bare flesh of Daryl's neck, mid-orgasm at that!
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
☆- He'd be iffy about a few things depending on what they are. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you in bed, but he also never wants to deny you of what you want. (I have no fucking clue what this letter means guys)
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
☆- On the nights where Daryl just needs to not think, he can go for as many rounds as his body can physically handle. He can last for a while during the first round, but it's after the second and third when he starts to struggle. He needily fucks the both of you completely stupid, only being done when a harsh dry orgasm rocks his entire world, gasping and sobbing against you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
☆- When Daryl finds your vibrator hidden behind your pillow, he gets a little curious and tries it on himself, sitting on the bed and taking his cock out, stroking himself a few times before clicking the button, feeling the toy buzz to life.
☆- He bites his lip rough when he presses it to his tip, a loud, choked whimper ripping from his throat.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
☆- Daryl only teases you when you tease him. The way you not so innocently bat your lashes at him and firmly grip his bicep gets him riled up for the day and gets you in a world of trouble for the night.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
☆- Daryl is typically a quiet guy, but he can get pretty loud in bed. A lot of the times he muffles any moans or whimpers into the soft skin of your shoulder.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
☆- Talked about this with one of my mutuals but I think Daryl would be a little bit into knifeplay. Nothing major, he just finds it really hot your life is quite literally in his hands.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
☆- Daryl definitely has a curved dick. It's a good solid eight inches and he's pretty thick. Circumcised as well.
☆- There's a long vein that runs along the underside, and a few more that become more prominent when he's hard.
☆- His tip is a cherry red and quite sensitive due to nerve damage. (from said circumcise)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
☆- Daryl used to barely think about sex, especially in the apocalypse. He'd still jerk off every so often, but not really that often. Only when he had nothing else to do, or really needed to stop thinking, which meant he was gonna jerk off for quite a while.
☆- His sex drive went through the roof after he met you, he simply couldn't get enough. It had only taken a few times before he was completely addicted to your body, and craved it each time he was away. he jerks off much more and much longer now
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
☆- It depends how many times he came. Sometimes he'll literally pass out right on top of you, still inside you.
☆- Most nights however he usually has enough strength to clean you up, and crawl into bed next to you, pulling you closer to his sturdy chest with his arms securely wrapped around you.
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yorshie · 10 months
Note
11 & 10 with Raph, a sort of confession\first kiss type of deal please! I need my boy to discover being loved.
-justalotoffanfic ❤️
Oooooooooooooo. First kiss. I think you might like reading this if you haven't yet, But Also Thank You for Requesting on Blurb Day! Let's have Pining Soft Raph to fight off those Mikey Brooms for a bit, eh? (edit: uh..... I guess this turned out more pining Reader and hopeless kiss. oops) also, sorry i forgot to do this with the other side blog requests but @justalotoffanfiction
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Being with Raph wasn't always....a straight line. The curve of progress sometimes doubled back on itself, or stalled for a bit before resuming at a glacial place.
It was easy enough to understand, you thought, watching him move purposefully through his workout, racking weights and eyeing the amount before he slotted himself underneath on the inclined bench. There were things you'd probably never know about, but the few big ticket items you had heard of left several things completely clear.
The Turtles had been hunted, and could be so again in the future. They weren't human, and people sometimes reacted badly to that. And the last thing, probably the root of your problem with Raph, was that there would always be someone 'better' for you, in his mind.
Someone that didn't live in the sewers, that didn't have a shell and a different amount of fingers, someone that didn't tower over you or place themselves in danger over and over again.
He was stubborn, you thought with an exhale, watching him knock off a weight from each side and slot himself under the bar once more, the suicide set causing his muscles to twitch under the exertion.
You watched the tensed line of a vein curling over his tricep, the little hollow below his elbow dipping in and out of existence with each flex. Your eyes followed the strain of his deltoid where it disappeared under his plastron-
"Whatcha thinking about, sweetheart?" His gruff voice called, words bitten short from exertion, and you blinked, pulled from your line of perusal.
"What?" You asked back, shifting in your seat, playing innocent even as you drank in his figure again.
"There's something rattling around in that pretty head of yours," He paused, knocked off another pair of weights, and you followed the beads of sweat running down the back of his elbow without conscious thought. "Gotta be something you're not telling me, isn't it?"
Your mouth pulled to the side, not quite a frown, not quite a smirk, and you finally stood when he paused once more, chest heaving as he re-racked the bar and glanced your way.
You could be stubborn, you reminded yourself, but another little voice echoed the words, sounding a lot more sure of itself than the immediate bravado. You could also push too hard.
"I just..." You trailed off, but Raph ducked a shoulder and leaned forward, resting his shell against the bar. He lifted one eye ridge towards you, clearly waiting.
When you still couldn't get the words out, he gestured you over with a jerk of his head, repeated the motion with more sass when you took too long.
When you finally stood in front of him, eyes taking in how his plastron swelled with each breath, the obvious way his arms had all but doubled from the exercise, you swallowed heavily.
Raph snorted at your ogling, one large hand coming up to tuck against your waist. "I uh," He tapped his fingers, slowly, against the back of your hip, obviously thinking, " I don't.... I really don't wanna end up doing the wrong thing here, sweetheart, but-"
He broke off, staring at your face, and you couldn't care less who moved first, just that you did-
And you were both stubborn idiots, it seemed, because you both bobbed when one should have weaved, and the first time you missed completely, lips nudging along cheeks instead of finding each other.
Your fingers found his jaw halfway through his eye roll, and his hand cupped the back of your head through exasperation more so than any tender feeling, but the tiny well of ire at how stubborn he was disappeared the second his lips landed true.
They were wide, and soft, and you could tell he was trying so hard to keep it sweet. After the third tentative scrub you finally lost your patience and opened your mouth to lick against his lower lip, and he pulled back with a grunt and a look in his eyes that promised retribution.
You grinned at him, feeling drunk, and a little bit stubborn yourself.
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and-claudia · 1 month
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Against All Odds pt. 11 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)
General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that’s not your jam, I’m sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won’t actually be in it for a bit
warnings for this part: SMUT (+18) (I felt like yall had been starved long enough) PinV, unprotected sex (not that this matters anymore), Nudity, mentions of hunting/killing animals (that is separate from the smut just so we're clear...)
word count: 2700+
gif not mine
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It was painfully quiet as we walked. I desperately wanted to ask if Ellie was okay, but I knew she wasn't. I also didn't want to force her to talk. So, I let her be for now. Hopefully she'd come to me when she was ready to talk about it. 
I looked up into the sky to see where the sun was. Since I didn't have a watch, it was my best guide to what time it was. Right now, it was right overhead, noonish if not past it. We had been walking for a long time, and no one had eaten before we began. I knew, even if no one wanted to, we'd have to eat something soon just to have the energy to keep going.
"He-Hey, maybe we should stop for a bit, eat a little something. Keep our energy up until we stop for the night?" I suggested. 
It honestly sounded like I was shouting because of how quiet it had been. 
"That's probably a good idea." Joel said. 
"Not hungry." Ellie said, turning around to look at us. 
"You need to eat something." Joel said. 
"Yeah, just a little bit. Okay?" I said gently. 
She sighed but nodded. 
We found a shaded spot and sat down. I took the opportunity to loosen my bootstraps as Joel got the food out. It was running low, and I knew it, especially when Joel barely took any for himself. He probably thought I didn't notice, but I did.
"Take your own advice. You need to eat too, Joel." I said. 
"I'll be okay." He said. 
"No... I hate to be that person, but even if we ration what we have left, we will be out of food within what three days at best. What are we going to do when we run out?" I asked seriously. 
"Hunt." Joel said simply, "There will be rabbits and squirrels along the way. Easy enough to shoot, not too hard to skin. We'll survive."  
I only nodded. The idea of eating a squirrel definitely made my stomach do a flip, I could handle rabbit easily, but a squirrel would be pushing it. Although I knew I wouldn't have an option when it came down to it. 
"How clean do you think creeks are 'round here?" I asked. 
"Decently. Hasn't been human activity for a good while to pollute them. They'll be clean enough to rinse the grime off, for sure. Those spare clothes still in your bag?" Joel asked and I nodded. 
"Won't be clean clean, but at least the ones we're wearing can be cleaner. But it will eventually get too cold to do that. But hopefully we'll make it Wyoming before that." Joel said. 
I nodded. 
"I don't know about y'all, but I suggest we find one of those creeks before we stop for the night. I'd like a chance to get the dirt and sweat off me." I said. 
"I agree." Ellie finally chimed in. 
“Alright. I’ll scout one out where we can stop for the night as well. But we’ll have to take shifts. No one wants to be caught by others out here alone and… you know…” Joel trailed off. 
“Okay, well, if Ellie is comfortable with it, I can keep an eye out while she rinses off, and you can set up our camp for the night. Then she and I can switch, or you can come keep a look out for me, and then I can watch for you.” I suggested. 
I figured it would be best for me to be on the lookout for both of them, which would make things a hell of a lot less awkward for everyone. 
“I’m fine with that. Just as long as you two promise not to have sex while you two are being lookouts for one another.” Ellie said. 
I rolled my eyes in amusement as Joel shook his head. 
We finished up our food before getting ready to leave. I was grateful that this time, the walk wasn’t silent. 
“Since we’re gonna have to hunt from now on, will you show me how to use the rifle?” Ellie asked. 
“I’ll think about it. Why don’t we start with trappin’ first? It’ll help us conserve our ammo.” Joel said. 
I honestly hadn’t thought about that. All of our resources were severely limited now. Food, water, ammo, shelter. Everything was going to be in short supply. And winter was fast approaching. 
“Should we try to set a goal for each day on how far we want to get? No offense, but I don’t want to still be walking nine months pregnant.” I joked, though I was serious. 
“I was planning on taking it day by day. None of us were preparing for this, so we won’t be able to go nonstop for days on end. Figured we could try traveling for a day or two, then rest and continue on like that. It’ll hopefully keep us from getting burnt out.” Joel explained. 
“Not a bad idea.” I agreed. 
Eventually, the sun was beginning to set, so Joel took us deeper into some woods and found where the creek was. I was actually surprised at how clean it looked. After ensuring that the surrounding area was, in fact, clear of any people or Infected, Joel informed us that he’d go off a good ways to set up our camp for the night while we took our turns using the creek to rinse off. 
I let Ellie go first. I found her clothes in my bag and laid them on a rock for her for when she was finished. I let her take her time and didn’t rush her. I kept my eyes on the treeline, watching for any movement. 
“Want me to get an area set up to hang our old clothes to dry at camp?” She asked, walking up wearing the new clothes. 
We had also decided that rinsing our old clothes would be the best thing since we only had a few outfits each. They obviously wouldn’t be actually clean, but it would be better than just putting dirty clothes back on. 
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Do you want to wait until I rinse off, or do you want Joel to come keep watch for me?” I aksed. 
“Can Joel? I just need some time alone with my thoughts…” She said, rubbing the back of her neck and not making eye contact. 
“Of course. And Ellie,” She finally looked up at me, “If you want to talk about anything, and I seriously mean anything, I am here, okay? I can’t promise I can fix whatever is happening but I can definitely listen.” I said sincerely. 
“Thank you.” she said quietly and nodded before walking us to where Joel was. 
“You two done already?” He asked as we walked back. 
“No, she’s going to switch with you now so I can rinse off, then you can.” I said, giving him a look not to question it. 
“Okay. Well, let’s go then.” He said, dusting off his hands as he stood up from where he had been hunched over, laying out rocks to make a small fire. I noticed a dead rabbit next to him, meaning he miraculously managed to get us something decent to eat later.. 
“Everything okay?” He asked once we were a good distance away. 
“Yeah, she just wanted some time alone to think, and so I let her.” I explained, and Joel nodded. 
“You want to go first?” He asked once we got back to the creek. 
“Yes, please.” I said, making him sigh through his nose in amusement. 
Joel found himself a spot to sit against a tree while I dug out my clothes and laid them down before stripping out of the ones I had been wearing. As I took my bra off, I let out a sigh of relief. 
“You know, that’s the one thing I didn’t think to grab an extra of…” I said with a sigh. 
“I give it another month or so before that one doesn’t fit anymore.” Joel said from where he sat. 
“Eyes on the trees, bud, not on me.” I teased before walking down to the water. 
I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t freezing. It actually felt amazing. The water wasn’t moving fast at all, so I was able to walk out to the middle of the creek, where the water came up to about halfway up my breast. I began using my nails to scrub some of the dirt off my body when I heard a twig snap over by Joel. When I turned to look I was surprised to see him standing up, taking off his boots. 
Silently, I watched as he undid his shirt and took his jeans off. He set his old clothes on the bank by mine so they’d be closer for when it was time to rinse them. When he caught me staring, I raised a questioning eyebrow at him to which he just smirked as he waded into the water. 
“What?” 
“Joel, you're supposed to be keeping watch.” I said, shaking my head, though it was no secret that I wasn’t actually upset by any means.
“It'll be fine. Come're.” He said, grabbing my arm to gently pull me to him. 
A small laugh escaped my lips as I pulled up against him. 
“Hi.” I smiled up at him as he continued to hold me to him. 
“Hi.” He was smiling, too, at this point, a real, genuine smile that I hadn’t seen in a while. 
“So what, now, if someone sneaks up on us, we’ll both be caught off guard and naked?” I joked. 
“I don’t know. I think those would be more than enough to distract anyone.” He said, looking down at my breast. 
I playfully shoved him away. 
“I am supposed to be getting the grime off of me. I suggest you do the same.” I said, turning my back to him. 
He didn’t stay away from me for long. Without warning, he was grabbing my arm again to turn me to him, but this time, I was met by his lips on mine. A small gasp escaped my lips before I melted into it. My hands found their way up around his neck as his traveled down to my lower back. It was as if we couldn’t get close enough to each other. 
As we continued to makeout, his hands slipped lower, passed my ass, and down to the back of my thighs. He pulled one up to his hip, and I knew what he was trying to do. So, I used my other foot that was still down to gently push off the bottom of the creek enough for me to jump and wrap both of my legs around his waist. His kisses traveled away from my lips and down to my neck, which I gladly gave him access to. 
“Shit, Joel, please just fuck me.” I said as he worked on leaving a mark on my collarbone. 
“Way ahead of you, sweet girl.” He said before thrusting up into me. 
I had to actually bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning out loud. Joel gave me a second to adjust to the feeling of him inside of me. But once he felt my body relax against him, he didn’t hold back. I buried my face into the junction of his neck and shoulder as he thrust up into me relentlessly. I could hear him cursing and saying my name in a breathy voice. I hadn’t even noticed one of his hands gripped my left thigh a little tighter as his other one came down between our bodies and found its way to my clit. 
Admittedly, I am a little ashamed of how sensitive it was. It had been a while since me and him had had sex, and I definitely hadn’t had time to myself recently. However, it seemed like to him no time had passed at all because he knew just how to make me come undone. 
“Fuck, Joel, m’close.” I said. 
“Me too…” “Inside.” Was all I was able to request as my walls tightened around his cock. 
He wasn’t far behind me either as I felt him release. He continued to hold me, not pulling out just yet as we both caught our breaths. Even after he slipped out of me and lowered me down to stand in the water, he continued to hold me against him. I looked up at him to find him already looking down at me. 
“I love you, you know that, right?” He asked, just barely above a whisper. 
“I know. I love you too, Joel.” I whispered back before leaning up to kiss him softly. 
After a few more minutes of just holding onto one another, we eventually knew we’d have to rinse our old clothes and get dressed in the fresh ones. I decided to just leave my bra off for the night to give myself a break. We gathered up everything and began walking back to camp, hand in hand. Once again, we both had smiles on our faces. 
When we got back, I hung both of our wet clothes on the branch Ellie had set up as our makeshift drying rack. Joel went over to start skinning and preparing the rabbit to be cooked. As I was hanging the last of the clothes, Ellie came up to me. 
“You two disgust me.” She said. 
I knew there was no way she heard us, so how’d she know? 
“What are you talking about?” I asked, playing dumb. 
“Look, I may not understand men, but I am pretty sure there’s only one thing that can get a man as grumpy as him to get him sliming like that.” She said, nodding over to where Joel was sitting, working with a smile still on his face.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ellie. Now, help me with the water canteens.” I said, walking over to grab them. 
Ellie caught my wrist, making me stop short. 
“What’s that? Hm?” She questioned, pointing to where the collar of the flannel I put on didn’t quite cover the mark Joel had left there. 
I could feel my cheeks heating up, “Damnit, Joel!” I said, loud enough for him to hear and look up. 
“Y’all are nasty.” Ellie said in disgust, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh along with us. 
“You’ll understand when you’re older.” I teased. 
She shook her head, “Like hell I will.” She shot back, “Let’s just go fill up the water.” 
We both grabbed the canteens and walked back down to the creek. 
“Wait… I don’t want to drink from the sex creek. That’s gross.” She said, scrunching up her nose at the thought of it. 
“Don’t worry, the water is constantly moving. Besides, we were downstream.” I teased know that she definitely didn’t want to know the details. 
“I mean, if it puts him in a better mood for a while… just keep it far, far, away from me.” She teased back. 
We finished getting the water and headed back to where Joel had finished skinning the rabbit and was getting ready to cook it. I was pleasantly surprised at the taste. It was definitely far better than the shit we used to get given in the QZ. 
“I say tomorrow let's turn more North, get up into Nebraska, then start West again.” Joel said, causing Ellie and I to nod. 
I let out a yawn. 
“I don’t know about you two, but I am beat.” I said, stretching slightly. 
“I bet you are.” Ellie teased, causing me to roll my eyes. 
“Whatever.” I shook my head and stood up, “I can take a watch shift later if one of you wants to take one now.” 
“I’m not too tired yet, so I am going to stay up for a bit.” Ellie said, and I only nodded at her decision. 
“Me too. Go get some rest.” Joel said. 
I bid them both a goodnight before walking off to find somewhere half-decent to sleep. 
Ellie’s PoV 
Once I was sure Yn was out of earshot, I turned to Joel. 
“I want to talk about what happens after we find your brother in Wyoming.” I said seriously. 
sorry this one was a bit shorter... also this is your warning that I am devating from the events in the show...
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wardenparker · 3 months
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Hummingbird Has Landed, Epilogue
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Flirting, baby talk, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus being utterly Marcus. Summary: Ten years after getting married, the inn is seeing a slightly different kind of celebration for an even bigger extended family. Notes: While not indicative in any way of reader's appearance or ethnicity or anything else -- it's worth noting that Alex and David were heavily inspired by Alex and Henry from Red, White, and Royal Blue. So I've used a gif of them for this chapter in tribute.
I am particularly sad to say goodbye to these two, but I will hold their family close to my heart and revisit them frequently 🥰🥰 Next week we're taking a short rest, and Javi's soulmate story Bones Full of Words will start on July 14!
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17 ~ Ch 18
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Getting out of the office was a priority today. Rushing to collect his briefcase, Marcus runs through the list of instructions for his assistant, even though he knows she is well aware. “If you need anything, call me. It will probably be loud, but I’ll keep an eye on things.” He promises, ignoring the little eye roll Tara gives him when he glances up.
She sighs slightly. “Like I’m interrupting tonight.” She scoffs, making him grin.
“We’ll be up late, so I’m not coming in until lunch tomorrow.” He reminds her, having blocked out the morning in his calendar months ago.
“No meetings, got it.” She bites her lip. “How did the lunch with the Director go?” She asks, making him hum as he closes the soft leather tooled briefcase bag that Junie had made for eight Christmases ago.
“Tell you tomorrow.” He promises, knowing that will have her fuming at being out of the loop for even twenty-four hours. She huffs and he’s sailing around the desk to grab his suit jacket. “Have a good night!” He calls over his shoulder playfully. “And don’t forget to go vote!”
It didn’t make sense to have the election night party anywhere but the inn. It’s well within Virginia’s 8th Congressional district and a very recognizable landmark across the country — Americans all remember their two term first woman President, and the stories about her children that played out in the media for the eight years she ran the country.
Tonight, the buzz of another election night has the inn — and the family — on high alert.
“Hey sweetheart!” Marcus rushes into the inn, aware that you will be here rather than at the house. “What do I need to help with?”
“Hi honey!” You’re four feet deep in party preparations, while Juan is out back setting up tents in the garden and Sydney is cooking her heart out. Thankfully the inn is totally sold out to people who will be attending tonight’s party, so there aren’t really extra guests to attend to and the restaurant is closed for one night for the occasion. “Junie has all the kids in the front room if you want to go say hi before I put you to work.”
“Of course I do.” His jacket is already coming off, but he leans in to press a kiss to your lips and his hand finds your stomach. “You aren’t working too hard, are you? I tried to get out as soon as I could.”
“I’m working as hard as little Pike will let me.” A soft moment to enjoy a kiss from your husband without all three of your children swarming him when he comes home from work is a blessing, but this third pregnancy is more tumultuous than the last one. “Constance, Holly and Sabrina insisted on construction papers banners to hang at the party and the boys made sugar cookies with red, white, and blue sprinkles earlier in the day” The generation of kids that are growing up together have bonded quickly — with Sydney and Juan’s oldest taking to your and Marcus’s twins, and the younger brothers of both families coming together just as easily. This time it is you and your sister who are pregnant together, and Junie has been unexpectedly enjoying the majority of her pregnancy. Her first has been mild and she has that fantastic glow about her at six months along.
“Good.” Marcus beams as he caresses the barest bump under your breasts. You had insisted you were just gaining a little weight this time but he knew better. “Everyone is excited for tonight. They’ve asked if they can stay up until the speeches.” He warns you with a chuckle. “I’ve already taken the morning off tomorrow.”
“They can stay up a little, but they have school tomorrow.” Which you’ve already told them, of course, but the twins are already learning that giving their Daddy big eyes will get them a whole lot of leeway. “After my mother’s second election, I genuinely thought we were done with this.” It sounds like a complaint, but you laugh softly and shake your head, leaning into your husband’s side in your office. “I guess one of us was bound to end up following in her footsteps.”
“It’s very fitting that it’s Alex.” He slides his hand down to rub the spot on your back that has been giving you the most grief with this last pregnancy. “I cast my vote for him today before lunch.”
“I love that he’s running in our district,” you admit, glowing with that sisterly pride that you’ve been known to show all along your brother’s campaign trail. “That we can actually vote for him. I gave the staff long meal breaks today to go vote. Everybody has their stickers on.”
“I know. But it’s convenient since he and David live one neighborhood over.” He teases, kissing your cheek and winking at you playfully. “Now, how can I help?”
"Go say hi to your kids and then I'll enlist you to help me set up the main sitting room for tonight." Stealing one more kiss before you step away is a challenge only in that you have to limit yourself to one more kiss.
“You got it, sweetheart.” Despite the time and the additional responsibilities, Marcus still feels that fluttering in his stomach every time he kisses you. Stepping away, he opens the door to your office. “Pike posse! Where are you?” He calls out.
"Daddy!" The scream goes up nearly immediately, and three sets of little feet hit the ground running to scramble around the corner into the hallway.
His kids are the most important people in his world, besides you. He immediately drops down, expecting to be tackled and grunts as he absorbs the impact of the three’s enthusiastic greeting.
The twins start talking at him immediately about their day at school, as nine-year-old Holly and Sabrina both aced their geography quizzes and are currently facing the very serious dilemma of picking out books for their next book reports. Six-year-old Matthew is quiet while his sisters command their father's attention, but snuggles into Marcus's side as tightly as possible in the meantime.
His arm winds around Matthew, hugging him close, and he kisses the top of his curly brown head. Giving his full attention to the reasons that he is proud to drink out of the #1 Dad mug that sits on his desk at work every day. “We will find the perfect books this weekend at the bookstore. How does that sound?” Marcus suggests, knowing they will love that.
"YESSSS!" Both girls chant over and over, wiggling out happy dance moves on the spot. This was clearly the outcome they were hoping for.
“And what about you, Matt?” Marcus turns his attention on the quiet little boy that is still clinging to him. “Does that sound like fun?“
The little boy thinks for a second, lips twisted up in concentrated consideration, until he finally nods a little. "Could I...get a crayon book?" The most artistic of your children asks, always favoring coloring books and puzzle books — collectively called crayon books by the first grader — over other activities.
“Absolutely.” The promise is easily made, making sure that he doesn’t feel judged by wanting to color or draw over reading. “We will find a great crayon book, just for you.”
"Do you want to see the banners we made, Daddy?" Sabrina asks eagerly, already about to pull their father into the next room to show him before she can even finish the sentence. "Matty drew stars on them, and I did stripes!"
“Come on bud.” Marcus hoists Matthew up into his arms as he lets the twins lead him into the main sitting room of the inn. “Oh, it’s great!” He proclaims when he sees the banner on the ground.
"Auntie June said we could put it up over the window!" Holly announces with a toothy grin. One of her top front teeth fell out a few days ago and a bottom tooth has become especially wiggly since then.
“Of course we will.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll hang it up as soon as you show me exactly where.” June will go nowhere near a step ladder, considering her condition and he knows Dylan will be thankful for that. You and June are too much alike, trying to climb on things and give your soulmates heart attacks while carrying the babies.
"I thought it would be best to wait until their helpfully tall father got home," June admits, coming back into the room from the other side — a direction that means she definitely ducked into the kitchen for a snack while the kids were saying hello. "Hi Marcus."
“Hey, June.” Marcus smiles at your younger sister and moves over to give her a quick hug. “I know your husband will be happy.”
"Yeah, yeah," she huffs and rolls her eyes like she hadn't tried to get up on a ladder with a hammer in her own house just three days ago and Dylan had had a fit after walking into the room. "How was your meeting?" She asks more quietly, tilting her head at her brother-in-law when her niblings aren't paying attention.
“It was…enlightening.” Marcus grins and shrugs, not willing to say too much right now. Today isn’t about him. “How was Charlie the horse, today?”
"My star patient is recovering marvelously." June's veterinary practice has unexpectedly become primarily focused on horses and small amounts of domestic livestock along with the usual dogs and cats, and she is thriving being an on-demand vet that makes house calls around their corner of Virginia. "He was trotting around very happily by the time I left today."
“Hopefully you are letting Marcy do all the heavy lifting with the animal?” Her vet tech is a wonderful woman who has aspirations of becoming a veterinarian herself, once she can complete the schooling. It had been a reassurance to Dylan to have her there with Junie as she made house calls.
“It helps that Marcy is also taller and stronger than me,” June admits with a laugh. “I’m behaving, Marcus. I promise.”
“Good.” He gives her a pointed look. “I know how the women in your family operate.” He reminds her. “Your sister nearly made me crazy with the twins.”
“Juan had to wrestle her away from the porch decorations earlier,” June tells him with a knowing smirk. “I think carrying twins makes her feisty.”
Marcus’s eyes widen slightly and his mouth drops open. “Carrying?” He chokes out.
"Oh shoot." June's eyes dart over to the kids, who have already set out at creating a chain of construction paper links in red, white, and blue to go with their banner. When she looks back at Marcus, she shoves him and grins. "Go talk to your wife, but do not tell her I spilled the beans."
“I—” he fumbles for something to say, but he can’t. Just turning around and immediately moving back towards the office. Happy the kids are occupied again so he can talk to you.
"Hey." His familiar shadow in your doorway makes you stand again, and you pick up a stack of papers that you had meant to bring home yesterday to look over before you think better of it and put them down again. Tonight is just election night. Tomorrow you'll deal with personal news and other business. That's what you had decided, even though you're almost vibrating with your own good news tonight. "Did the kids show you their banner? Holly is extremely proud of how straight her stripes are."
“They did.” Marcus nods as he closes the door behind him. Walking over to you and pulling you in for a more prolonged kiss, one that he pours himself into.
It isn't that Marcus never takes the time to kiss you breathless, but you hadn't expected it today and certainly not right now, so you end up both wrapped in his arms and boneless against him as you sink into the kiss until you're both breathless. "What was that for?" You breathe, when he finally pulls away again.
“I’m just…happy.” He nuzzles his nose against yours gently and kisses you again. “So fucking happy, hummingbird.”
"Does this mean your meeting went well?" You ask, arms twining around his waist and beaming at him.
“It was good.” He smiles back at you and sighs softly. “But that’s not important right now.”
"Your meeting...with the Director of the FBI...isn't important right now?" That doesn't make any sense to you at all, and you pull back a little to look Marcus over and frown. "Was it...not about what you thought?"
“It was.” Marcus admits, knowing that the idea of it has changed in the past two minutes. “I think I might turn it down.”
"What? Why?" That definitely isn't the response you were expecting from him. Not when he's been edging his way toward this one last promotion for years now.
“It would be a lot of hours.” He reminds you softly, leaning in and kissing you again. “We are about to have another baby.” He wants you to tell him, not have it come out that he knows. Hating now that he had missed the appointment because of a department meeting. You had assured him it was okay to miss one and now he has missed something important.
"You've worked so hard for this," you remind him gently. "This is your literal life's work. Your entire career. I don't want you to give up the chance to see that through. We always planned on a big family, that shouldn't stop you from accepting a promotion." Once glance down between you at your growing belly makes you sigh softly and you lean up to kiss him again. "I was going to save these until tomorrow...but do you want to see the ultrasound photos from this morning?"
“Not unless you don’t want me to.” Marcus would love nothing more, but he also doesn’t want to pressure you.
“I had a silly idea that tonight was going to be all about Alex, and nothing else.” From behind you, you reach into your desk drawer and pull out an untouched envelope of photos to hand to Marcus. “But this is important. Just like your work is important. Our lives are our family and our careers, and we’ve worked really hard to keep the balance.”
“I know.” Marcus assures you, not taking the photos but he drags his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “The director is retiring next month and wants to appoint me as the acting director as a trial run to being named Director of the FBI.”
“That’s…that’s incredible, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Pride in your partner, of how hard he works and how much he has accomplished, sticks in your throat and make your voice crack a little. If you’re a little teary while you beam at him and pull him in tightly for a hug? Well, that’s pride too but also a dash of pregnancy hormones. His thoughts of retiring early were thrown to the back burner when he got set on the fast-track of promotion after promotion. He’s been the Assistant Director of the FBI for almost four years already. “You deserve it, love. You work so hard and you deserve everything.”
“I don’t know about that.” He knows there have been sacrifices for his job, there always have been. But he’s worked hard to balance life and work. “This, our family is the most important thing in my life.”
“And I love how dedicated you are to us.” Your eyes track away from his just long enough to find the envelope again, and you smile. “You should look at the photos, love.”
He takes the envelope from you and swallows. “I wish I could have been there.” He murmurs, pulling out the sonogram photos and immediately tearing up. “Another set of twins.” He chokes out. “My babies.”
“We both got good news today.” If you’re honest, you had guessed it would be twins even before the doctor confirmed it. It felt the same as the first time you were pregnant. Intense morning sickness and faintness with an equally intense feeling of giddiness. Even the cravings have been similar so far.
He practically giggles and swoops you into another hug and kiss. Elated that you are happy about the news and he will never be unhappy about more kids. “I love you.”
“I love you too, honey.” Your hands on his cheeks are warm and doting, and your thumbs sweep over his cheekbones as you grin. “Whatever you decide is your path, the kids and I will be here to love you and be so proud of you.”
“I’m going to take it.” The idea of being able to pad the college savings for the kids is important. “But, the second it doesn’t work with having five kids, I’ll retire.”
“It’s your decision to make.” The way you nod — emphatic and beaming with pride — has you in giggles all over again. “Director Pike.”
“It’s our decision.” He reminds you, although he’s also grinning. “Nothing comes before you and the kids.”
“Tonight I’m afraid that can’t be true.” But you steal one more eager, excited kiss from him anyway. “It’s Alex’s night. And we should get out there and help with finishing the decorations before Juan comes and hunts us down.”
“Yes we should.” He can’t help but press a kiss to your lips again. “I love you so much, Hummingbird.”
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No one eats quite the way congressional staffers do in the week leading up to elections, and Alex’s electoral team is no exception. The buffet that Sydney and her team put out is refilled a second time before things calm down, and the team is watching votes roll in on laptops, phone screens, and the big TVs all around the inn. Some folks are outside, where a little bit of a party is starting to brew as Alex’s lead in the polls becomes clearer and clearer. You, your siblings, the soulmates, and your parents are all piled into the front sitting room together with the big TV turned on and Alex’s campaign director is hustling back and forth between groups of people.
“They haven’t called it yet.” Alex hums, twisting his hands in his husband’s. He’s nervous and jittery and touching David seems to help him calm down. “The fourth and seventh district polls aren’t in yet.”
"I know, baby." David lets his husband's restless hands move in his as much as they need, standing steady as his rock while Alex gets his nerves out. "But look at what is in. We don't need every single vote for you to win, just a few more percentage points and you can put the finished touches on your acceptance speech."
“Ohhhh don’t jinx me.” Alex huffs, leaning over and closing his eyes as his head rests against David’s shoulder. “I don’t want to count my chickens.”
"Ba-gock." Junie deadpans the sound of a chicken as another district reports their numbers.
"Alex." Your hands are on his shoulders instantly. "Alex, look!" You insist, pointing to the screen. "Two percent more and you've got it!"
“Oh god, oh god, I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, eyes wide and he has to lean forward. “You never told me how bad this part of running is, mom.” He groans to the former President, currently sitting in her husband’s lap on the nearby sofa.
"And scare you off?" She laughs, unbothered and unworried for him. She knows he has this in hand, even if he doesn't. "Never, Al."
“Evil.” He huffs, making everyone else laugh. They’ve always had faith in him, maybe more than he’s had in himself and he knows that he wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you. “Distract me with something. Anything. Good news.” He begs, looking around the group.
You and Marcus exchange glances, and Junie clears her throat loudly. "Birdie went to the doctor today," she says loudly enough that there's no pretending it isn't the thing everyone has zeroed in on right away.
Marcus squeezes your hand and grins, unable to hide his delight. “And?” Alex demands, lifting his head instantly and looking over at you. “My latest niece or nephew?” He asks, thinking that the sex was determined.
"We just confirmed that I'm even pregnant again," you laugh, shaking your head at the question. You and Marcus probably stretched it a little going for your first doctor's appointment this time around, but you weren't really in a hurry when the signs were so clear — and so was the pharmacy test that you took. "But...we can tell you that the Pike genetics are strong." The grin that spreads across your face is broad. "It's twins."
Everyone gasps and starts celebrating. None of them are surprised, Selena just had twins last year, but they are happy. Alex jumps up, diving towards you to hug you. “God, I can’t believe it.” He whispers in your ear. “I’m so happy for you.”
"We'll have you kissing babies on the reelection circuit in no time." Though you hug your brother tightly, your eyes are on the television screen behind him. The announcement had taken your family's focus away from the campaign entirely, and that was apparently the magic touch necessary for more results to come pouring in. "Congressman." You poke his side slightly and nudge him back. "Alex, look."
“What?” His head whips around and his eyes bug out when he sees that they are declaring him the winner. The phones that have all been gathered on the coffee table immediately start ringing. “Oh my god.” He whispers. “Oh my god. I won!”
"You won!" David cries in turn, not that he had doubted his husband for a second, but so startled by the timing that he's thrown up his hands in the process.
“I won!” Alex lets you go, nearly jumping on David to kiss him. “I won!”
The room erupts in cheers, chatters, and rising voices that verge on shouting as more and more of Alex's campaign staff barrel in from the back garden. "Other direction!" You call, laughing when the room has filled but there are still more people who want to come in. "Back outside! Party goes back outside!"
It takes a moment, but the room clears and the garden is filled with the sounds of cheering and claps, whistles and exuberant celebrations. It’s been a long campaign season and they deserve to be happy for what they helped accomplish.
"I just want to say." Standing on the porch with a whole garden full of people, Alex stands with David at his side and glows. The pride of a well-run campaign and the excitement of a victory give him the same glow that you remember seeing your mother have over and over again, each election night of your childhood.
"I just want to say..." he repeats, laughing a little when it takes a few moments for everyone to quiet down. "My absolute most heartfelt 'thank you's." Everyone roars to life again with cheers and applause but only for a second. "We ran a campaign with integrity, transparency, and a whole lot of promises. Now the real work begins. Now we have to keep those promises, and build the good will with our constituents that will keep us moving forward. But tonight?" He takes David's hand, grateful to have his husband and soulmate there as his anchor. "Tonight we celebrate!"
Marcus holds you close, his hands on your shoulders as he watches his brother-in-law hug all the staff that have tirelessly worked to make tonight reality. “We are all damn lucky.” He murmurs in your ear.
"Hell yes we are." Turning around in his arms, you wrap your arms around your husband's waist and look up at him with a bright smile. "In every way, baby."
The sounds of celebration are loud enough to wake the dead, but the kids are zonked out in the third-floor apartment where they had finally given up trying to stay awake. Everyone’s kids are piled into the bed and having a sleepover even though it’s a school night. Your brother just won his election and will go on to become a beloved representative for his district. Marcus is slotted to become the Director of the FBI, a very important role that he had never originally let himself dream of.
Your inn is one of the best in the D.C. area and constantly packed, and most importantly, your pregnancy is proceeding nicely. It’ll be the last one, Marcus has already scheduled having a vasectomy done after the babies are born. He just hasn’t told you yet.
“Give it another ten years and he’ll be the first gay president.” Marcus predicts with a smile. “Despite what comes, I do know one thing.” The love he carries for you every day is shining through his eyes. “Our lives are amazing and I am so thankful to be here with you.” He promises. “Hummingbird has landed.” He tells you, using the code that had been used when you first met to signify that everything is just as it should be.
______
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gallifreyanhotfive · 7 months
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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 27
The Eleventh Doctor once mentioned that he had gotten married a lot. One of those marriages might have been to Captain Jack Harkness, but he wasn’t sure since there were so many people in the room at the time.
Cricket is a leftover race memory from the gruesome Krikkit Wars. The Krikkitmen wore outfits similar to human cricket uniforms. The fact that this outfit was recognizable by many as that worn by those who wanted to wipe out the rest of the universe apparently did not stop the Fifth Doctor from wearing precisely that outfit.
The Terrible Zodin is the third most wanted criminal in the galaxy after the Master and the Rani.
Martha Jones blogged about at least a few of her TARDIS adventures on MySpace.
The Eighth Doctor continuously lied to his companion Lucie Miller about her aunt. Her aunt had long ago been replaced with a Zygon copy, and she only found out when she was comatose and overheard them talking about it while having an out of body experience.
There is an opera based on the Doctor.
The Doctor - and probably other Time Lords - have two more ribs than humans do.
Ace once managed to lift the TARDIS (albeit an alternate universe one) with a single hand while she had a broken arm.
A Gallifreyan expletive is "Otherf-" (he was cut off but you can guess the rest).
Soul catching is a Time Lord rite in which a Time Lord would transfer their mind into that of another before assimilating into the Matrix.
The Eighth Doctor also had a sexual encounter with Bernice Summerfield.
The Third Doctor recalled never being taught Venusian aikido. He theorized that he had learned it in a previous life before the Doctor existed.
It is possible to swap bodies while in Gallifreyan telepathic contact.
N-Space has been referred to as the Five Hundred and Third Universe.
Queen Elizabeth I originally had the Tenth Doctor tortured and sentenced to beheading as a spy. She had given him a stay of execution for a picnic, during which the Doctor proposed to her.
Kate once witnessed the Fourth Doctor get his scarf caught in a door. He had thought he was caught in some sort of force field.
Lolita (the Master's first TARDIS) believes that Time Lords were created by her mother (the Matrix) in order to give TARDISes a purpose.
The Fifteenth Doctor took Ruby Sunday to Manchester in the future. While he was telling her all about figures from Manchester's history, oblivious to his surroundings, Ruby noticed that they were standing on tram tracks and were about to be run over.
Ohm is an old, mad god of the Time Lords.
Before crashing into Isaac Newton's tree, the out of control TARDIS took the Fourteenth Doctor and Donna to several places, including the Western Front in 1917, 200000 BC, the Battle of Hastings in 1066, and 1970. All of this while under attack by space-faring squid creatures.
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28
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