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cdragons · 3 months

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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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whoisthispersonwow · 14 days

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Hello people of tumblr! :)

I am not used to using this app but I thought i would give it a shot as the fandom works featured here are straight up the best things i've found on the internet, and the community seems just AMAZING on all regards!!! So I thought, yk, that I would share my ideas for this AU fic that perhaps maybe I would write sometimes...... idk....

Actor Bucky x Model Buck

Set in the 90s, this AU follows this rough outline : despite the 90s being a time of counterculture for the youth, (grunge, alternative movies being pushed forward and towards larger audiences) and being out of the 80s and all it entails (glam rock and so on) there was this paradoxally reinforced idea of masculinity (leather jackets, men having to be "strong", etc.) and lattent ideas of homosexuality being a "bad, filthy thing" in some places, interlinked with the misinformations concerning the HIV epidemic (if you're gay, you'll get AIDS, you'll die in a few months, all this stuff), which causes the Bucks have to hide their relationship from the public in fear of retaliation and backlash.

Buck is a male model, in a decade in which supermodels are emerging, and put on a pedestal : it's a decent job for him, despite not being a Claudia Schiffer or a Kate Moss (as female models, especially in that decade, were getting paid way more than male models, and overall just represented couture houses more than men did.). People know his face, he's had a few campaigns, but it's not enough to make him one of the A-list celebrities, not that he minds. He's slimmer than what is the norm for male models, but compensates it with his face : it is his strength as much as his weakness concerning bookings. He is known by his peers as this wise and generally kind man, not overly flairy as people can sometimes be in their industry, and overall very discreet about his personal life. He is extremely professional, a master of his craft that knows exactly what is expected of him at any time.

Bucky, on the other hand, is an actor. Freshly discovered among the rest of a new generation of actors, he climbs steadily and surely his way to the top, and has people from all over the USA watching his career with interest. He acts in movies which in our timeline would feel like "The Matrix" ; "Trainspotting" ; "Fight Club", and all of those sorts of very "mainstream yet still posessing their bit a flair" movies. He's extending his choices and taking more risks, ones that could perhaps lead him to great rewards (not that he is especially looking for it : Bucky would be content to act in a short movie by a middle schooler if it was done with love and passion.) Charming, bubbly, he is loved by many of teenage girls (and others, ofc :p). Everyone has a story about Bucky, be it good or bad. "Oh yeah, he bought me a car when mine broke down" says a make-up artist on a set. "He got so drunk he forgot I was here and punched me square in the face when i got up to pee" says his friend Curt Biddick.

(i made an ugly ass moodboard for the vibes)

-> now i'm gonna dump random infos for no particular reasons

TW : mentions of drugs, alcohol, homophobic cliches.

-They met at a party/gala of some sort for a brand, for which Buck modeled and Bucky was ambassador : it didn't click right away, but closely enough for it to feel like fate played a part in it.

-Buck is kind of excluded during parties as he's fully sober, whether it's from drugs or alcohol : a rarity, in the modeling world, and often not a welcome one.

-Bucky on the other hand, is a bit too much of a party monster : he drinks a lot, perhaps snorts a little cocaine in the bathroom, takes a little speed... Which GREATLY concerns Buck.

-Bucky is as cocky in his confidence and his career as he fears (and represses A LOT) the possibility of everything tumbling down and just going back to being nobody (THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE LOVED BY EVERYONE)

-He's terrified that fame will change him, that he will become a parody version of himself, that people will only know and like the version of himself he presents them and nothing else, not seeing his worth as a person, as an individual of flesh and feelings.

-Between the two of them, he's the one who desperately wants to tell the general audience about their relationship, not caring about the consequences, because in his eyes, love is love, and there sure as hell ain't nothing wrong with loving Gale Cleven, and people should know that he loves him, that they love each other, that they're a pair, that life only ever feels complete when they stand side by side, hanging in each other's orbits. They sometimes argue over this.

-Buck, on the other hand, wishes for their relationship to stay a secret, as he fears if it was to be known, it would taint Bucky's image, this very manly, confident and suave man, mingle it with dumb cliches (in a gay couple one is a "Folle" and the other has to be effeminate, because they're like GIRLS yk) and that it would basically ruin his career, tarnish his talent and hard work, get him blacklisted from most studios/directors and only perhaps offered type-casted roles in homophobic movies written by straight men. Buck could not stand seeing the love of his life being disgraced in the public's eyes, just because of some dumbass cliches, because of his love for him.

-Marjorie (Marge) covers for Buck. She's his front : They are seen dining together and huddling on benches by paparazzis, giggling and talking as they walk in the street, and that's enough. Their story makes people dream, these two young people who grew up together and fell in love, still a couple until this day, still loving each other as much as they did on the first day... They are a lavender couple (when both member of a relationship are queer, and use their couple to cover any suspicions) which helps making Buck and Bucky seem like just buddies. Marjorie is most likely not famous, or if so, she'd be more of a writer than anything else.

-Bucky is EXTREMELY jealous and FUMES whenever he cannot kiss Buck in public, touch him, do his little Bucky things, make Buck feel his. Despite that, he's sort of reckless and allows himself gestures that would not fly were the two men not viewed as pinacle of masculinity and a great example of brotherly love. Buck can't even bring himself to ressent him for it, and does not hold it against him : he too wishes they could hold hands on red carpets.

-Bucky is basically a disaster waiting to happen at some point, a pressure cooker dangerously whistling : he bottles everything he feels, just grits his teeth and says he's fine when dark times arise, drowns himself in alcohol and wishes to forget about his worries, thinks about simpler times when he had none at all. Gale stays by his side, no matter what, no matter his terrifying relationship with alcohol and the memories of his father.

-They live together, despite the risks : Buck couldn't bear having to say no to Bucky when he bought their appartment with a huge check from the royalties he earned over his first blockbuster. It is approprietly cozy : most of the decorum is Buck's doing, but Bucky's things still find their ways in there ; baseball posters, pictures, awards and silly little drawings on stick-it notes... It feels like home, to both of them.

-They probably have bought some sort of ranch or farm, somewhere, to run away from the city when things get crazy : they bask reverently in the fact that there, nothing they do or say matters, watching the sunsets on their patios, enjoying the melody of nature without any civilization.

That's pretty much it for now, I'll most likely add things later! :D I'm begging you to excuse any mistake I made, i'm just a poor French person trying her best. Don't hesitate to tell me how you feel and stuff, I am so nervous to make this post you can't imagine lmaoo

To end things, I guess I'll just post an extract of a wip, a written transcription of a fake interview Bucky probably had on some talk show!!! :]

#clegan #buck x bucky #bucky x buck #gale cleven #john bucky egan #alternate universe #idk how to tag sorry #mota

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berryless · 3 months

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OK, Mr Grim Stalker

Grim Reaper | Casper x Custom Female Main Character (PWP, NC-17 || 5k words || smut, fluff, dirty talk, consensual voyeurism, masturbation on camera)

Summary:

Casper was caught in 4K during call, and MC lives for it. They banter lots, tease each other, Casper's barking and begging.

!Warning!

Not Enterely Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Slight Canon Adjustments, Alternative Timeline, Canon Typical Angst and Mentions of Death/dying/etc (but nothing bad really happens, I promise) (at least not in this fic) (this is pure smut with just a sprinkle of warnings)

Read this work on Archive of Our Own.

"You're blushing, Casper," Caha smiled, her head tilted as she watched him sputtering on the other side of the screen. Somehow the certainty of being seen made his usually perfectly coordinated limbs stiff and awkward.

"…What are you wearing?" he managed in a strangled voice, habitually avoiding answering unwelcome statements.

"Oh, this?" Caha tugged on one of the straps of her top, and her breasts jiggled right in front of camera. Casper wanted to look away, but couldn't, eyes glued to the display. "Laundry day clothes. Be thankful I bothered to put on anything at all."

Did it mean she could've potentially been sitting there naked..? He tried really hard not to think about it, but failed miserably. A stupid thing, really. Not that he never reaped someone during the intercourse, or never saw other bodies naked—both things happened to him plenty of times. The problem was, those things happened with strangers he had no feelings for whatsoever, and so was able to stay perfectly calm and composed the entire time.

And Caha, as much as it pained Casper to admit it, wasn't such a stranger. She was a nuisance and a sole failure in his outstanding career, and, fuck, why was she leaning closer..?

Casper straightened up, squeezing himself into the back of his armchair, watching Caha's chest practically pressing against the camera as she fished for something. He never knew she had a mole there, right in between. Perfect spot for kissing.

"Lyusha says hiiii," Caha hugged the cat to her stomach and waved Lyusha's paw.

"Hi, Lyusha," Casper answered weakly, casually waving back.

No, he wasn't at all disappointed with the creature's appearance. Or the fact that she was now babied to pieces, taking all of Caha's attention.

In fact he could stand not being watched for a minute or two.

Losing a glove in process, his right hand slid under the desk, brushing against the throbbing tent of his pants. Hells. It was infuriating how little Caha needed to rile him up.

Casper watched her scratching Lyusha's belly, breasts jiggling with each movement of her arms.

Caha had plenty of moles on her face, but he never knew… Right in between, huh..?

He propped his chin, leaning on his left against the table while his right hand was quietly pulling down the zipper. Unlike certain someone, he was dressed properly for the call. And now regretted it a little: sweatpants would've been easier to get around. Still, he managed. Without the constraints of tight clothes, his erection freely stretched the boxers.

Casper took a quick look at the screen, but Caha was still preoccupied with petting purring Lyusha sprawled on her lap with the most annoying baby voice accompaniment possible. 'Oh, who's the cutest sweetest little thing in the whole wide world' and 'yes, my darling baby angel, you guessed right, it's you' were spilling from her like they cost nothing, flowing right into his ears together with the endless kissy noises, like she was saying that to him.

She wasn't, though, and Casper couldn't help but look at Caha, voicelessly begging her to spare at least a crumb of that attention and affection to him.

She didn't notice, of course.

She never did.

Casper hid the lower part of his face under his left hand and took a first tentative stroke, still through clothes, lips tightly pursed to not let out the slightest sound, eyes on the screen, on that fucking mole, thinking only about how it would feel on his lips. Caha was so warm that one time he touched her. So soft. Even through his gloves, Casper felt that.

His lips would probably melt off on spot if he were to kiss her. Run his palms along her curves. Squeeze her chest, fingers sinking into soft flesh. Bite her collarbone, then neck, taking in the pulse of her life beating against his lips.

Now he could only bite on his glove and swallow down the swears as he slowly stroked himself. Quiet. He needed to keep quiet.

Caha paused, then smiled, eyes sparkling.

"I was expecting a pretty please, but that's better."

She slipped out of straps of her top and then yanked it down, breasts bouncing free of fabric. Casper watched her, breath caught in his throat, mouth suddenly dry. Caha scooped them into her palms, fondling herself carelessly, fingers digging into flesh. That mole was there again, deep brown in jarring contrast against Caha's pale skin.

"Well, how about it?" she asked, looking at him with a smile. "How do you like your bones, Grimmy? Are they up to your distinguished taste?"

He tugged his left glove away with his teeth and ruffled his hair, shaking his head that felt two sizes too big all of the sudden.

"You really want to see me barking at you like a dog, don't you?" Casper sighed helplessly.

"Maybe. Is that the only thing you want to do with me?"

"…Hardly. If anything, I want so much, I can barely think human thoughts."

Caha let out a satisfied laugh as she plopped back into the pillows.

"Not a very good boy, are you now, Grimmy?" she teased, finger circling around her nipple. "With many, many naughty thoughts in that fluffy white head of yours, tsk, tsk, tsk."

"And who's at fault for that?" He couldn't help but glare at her, grating his teeth.

"Yours, of course," Caha scoffed in a matter of factly manner, her chin raised high. "You could've been fucking me like an animal all you wanted, no thoughts, head empty, brain smooth and unwrinkled, but instead you chose this. Now suffer in the bed you've made. Or rather, in a chair. Touch yourself with those beautiful cold hands of yours, thinking about how mine would've felt. Warm. And soft. Very, very soft. No calluses, no rough spots. Wrapping around all of your length, one atop another, stroking, caressing and rubbing you all over."

"Hah… hngh…"

Casper choked on his suddenly thickened spit. With Caha voice in his ears, saying stuff like that as she played with her tits, watching him masturbating, his body tingled all over, nipples tender and taut, hips thrusting into his hand by themselves.

"Please… Talk more, Sunshine… Please… I want…I want to hear more…"

She sighed in a way that made him tremble, then her right hand slid down again.

"It's not just my hands that are warm, you know? It should be much hotter inside my mouth. I'm not sure if I'd swallow you whole, you're kinda…a handful, in more ways than one, but the tip? I would've circled it with my tongue and taken it in. You know those ridges at the roof of the mouth? Right behind the front teeth? Bet they'd feel good against the skin, won't they?"

"…Yes, yes they would."

Hot sweet mouth. That sharp tongue of hers gliding all over him. She would definitely be all teethy about it, just to make him quiver in anticipation of a bite.

Hands on him, warm touch of them. Handling him with that tender carelessness of hers. Soft, then firm, then soft again. Light scratches.

Her face, her eyes, looking at him from the bottom up with that mischievous glint to remind him that she may be on her knees now, but it's him who's getting played. Defenseless and at her mercy. Getting the desired relief only with her permission.

"You're so pretty, Casper. So, so pretty." Caha whispered, words round and sticky inside her mouth, r's rolling from her tongue right into his head like pebbles, disturbing his already unstable mind.

"Can't…take your eyes away…can you?" he scoffed weakly, trying to shake the picture away before he'd start begging out loud.

"Can't."

"Knew…it. Ha. Good…you're finally admitting it. Told you…I'm charming…and irresistible…for your kind. Hah. Hngh. Fuck…"

He bit on his lip, squirming in his chair, close, so close…

"I'm trying, believe me. You know…there is another hot and wet place beside my mouth I can put you in? One that'll take you whole. It's practically dripping now, I'll have to squeeze my shorts after this call, really, what are you doing with me… Better then, what you're not doing with me. When you could've. Honestly. You. Ugh."

He knew what she was talking about. Of course he knew.

"Caha…"

"It's hard to do it dry handed, isn't it? You're so sensitive, Casper. Bet it's grating to you without any lube, huh? I could've helped with that. Maybe. Depends on your attitude."

"Please…"

"No. More."

"Woof..?"

"Still no. More."

"Sunshine…please…"

"Please what? Use words."

"Please…help me. Please… I…I want…"

"Yes?"

"I want…this. You. I want…you…so much, I'm going…crazy. You're fucking up… my life…and my head…and my job…and I still… I… I… Caha… Sunshine… Please."

"…You're telling all this, but still aren't coming. Even though I have perfectly toasty dripping pussy to put you in. Swallow you whole and squeeze the life out of you. Or death. Or soul. Or something. I'm sitting here, wet heaving, frothing at my privates, begging to be stuffed. Begging, Casper. Contracting on nothing but air. Achingly empty inside. All those nice wet folds and pulsing muscles left unused when they could've been wrapped around your stupid pretty pink cock. Hot and tight, so, so, sooooo tight. Milking every last drop out of you. Wouldn't that be nice?"

That was the only thing in his head as Caha spoke, words and images blending together, all the fantasies about her he played on repeat swarming in at once, flickering under his eyelids in sporadic fragmented flashes: Caha with her legs spread wide, demanding to fill her; her again, palm pressed against his chest as she straddled him with that annoying cute irresistible smirk on her lips, her wet folds sliding against his cock, covering him in her juices; her again, hands on his shoulders, palm cradling the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin as he thrust inside her; her again, pushing his head between her thighs, fingers raking through his hair before grabbing a fistful of it right at the roots, the tug just the right amount of painful to feel pleasure; her again, eyes closed, teething on her lower lip, all her soft flesh and curves trembling while he mindlessly beat into her like an animal in heat; her again, riding his face, trembling and moaning, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place; her again, his teeth on her neck, biting and licking and biting again, leaving possessive marks in his wake, mine, mine, mine. Her body, her soul, her heart, everything, all of her, only his.

Nothing but her on his mind.

Just like she wanted.

Casper came and choked, gasping on air, dizzy and breathless, lost between fantasies and reality, not sure which was what.

Caha looked at him from the screen, head tilted, pouting, her cheeks bulged.

"Congratulations. Good for you. I still think I would've done a better job. Made much less of a mess. And you could've cuddled with me afterwards, and I would've kept you warm. Humph."

She turned her face away, but soon looked back at him from the corner of her eye, then turned even further, chin raised high, harrumphing again.

How could someone be simultaneously so stinking cute and so fuckable? It was still a mystery to him.

Casper leaned onto the back of his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, evening his breathing and heartbeat.

Caha was so incredibly wrong about that one thing: she was the one who made all this mess in the first place. Unceremoniously squeezing into his life, into his head, carelessly breaking and destroying all the rules he upheld, all the things he thought were right, all the plans he had for the future, and triumphantly taking the main place among the rubble of his disorderly mind, crowning herself as she took all the space inside it, leaving no room for other thoughts.

And a week later he was supposed to claim his rightful rewards for winning the bet and ferry her soul to the afterlife, never see her again, and turn back to the life he had before he ever knew her.

Yeah.

She couldn't have made a bigger mess if she tried.

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technically-a-kiwi · 6 months

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Hi guys ! I’d like to share with you my take on a possible DLC (or even sequel) for Pizza Tower:

Overturned Pizza Tower

(Yeah it’s a working title, I’m not even sure if "overturned" is english…)

Basicaly in the game, Peppino is forced in another dimension by a familiar looking but oddly different Pizzahead and has to conquer the Tower all over again, some stuff here and there are different with different levels and a much more different atmosphere, that being that this alternative tower looks far more luxurious than the canon one, let me know in the comments if you want be to develop on how the tower could look like in this mysterious alternative world

first cutscene rough storyboard:

And now for the juicy part >:) hehehe

The bosses:

When designing new designs for the bosses, I kept in mind to not go overboard with the modifications, what makes Pizza Tower’s characters so fun to draw is their sheer simplicity, and I must say in some of my early sketches, I was awfully close to the “ORIGINAL CHARACTER, DO NOT STEAL PLEASE” limit. So without further ado, here they are:

Pepperman:

So as you can see, our favourite fabulous pepper is rocking some boots, shades and a jacket, In this timeline his talent was recognised and became quite a celebrity in the tower, experimenting in other forms of art outside of painting such as photography, origami and clothing. I honestly think that the two drawings I did on the bottom left corner that Pepperman would absolutely embrace his fame and wouldn’t mind that much if people always ask him for an autograph in any place he walks in, he would be quite a diva if he could wouldn’t he ? Let me know your opinion on his design and if you think I should change some stuff.

The Vigilante:

Nothing much changes with Vigi here except a tiny scare under his left eye and a peace of turquoise on his hat, in this timeline the Vigilante is known as the "Bullseye" due to the extraordinary capacity of never in any circumstances miss a shot that it be with his gun, lasso or anything else he can throw at you (unless he misses willingly of course), outlaws truly quiver in fear at the site of him because they know they’re doomed. I must say Vigi was the hardest to redesign, because there’s so much you can modify with him until he just looks a slime with goggly eyes, a funny hat and an angry expression with random details… which…is kind of what he is but in a bad way… you know… Again let me know in the comments what is your opinion and if you think something should change.

Fake Peppino:

And here he is, the fan favourite, the goofy goober elderish monster of the saga. In this timeline the only difference is that instead of a tang top he wears an apron that is stained with a bit of… uh… tomato… sauce… yeah tomato sauce and he constantly holds in his right hand a ladle, he’s the proud owner of his own pizzeria of which he takes vey good care of (or at least he’s trying his best) and most of his clients are actually Peppino clones, as long as they pay for their food Fake Peppino don’t mind their presence, any other clients are very rare considering there is a rumours about the chef killing any clients who doesn’t leave a tip…Honestly one of my favourite design so far (wow how original, the goofy goober is my favourite…) once again leave a comment of your opinion and what you think should be different in my design

Final boss:

Yeah sorry I won’t give you my take on the final boss (yet), but if you think a little and look carefully I think you can already gess who’s the big bad guy, I’ll even post something if y’all really want

And that’s all for now folks!

Thank you so much for reading my post, if you really want me to give you more concepts and ideas for the characters, atmosphere or if you want full arts of the design I just showed, let me know in the comments. Don’t hesitate on giving me your truest opinion may it be positive or negative on this concept and if you think it could work for a DLC or sequel! See you next time :D !

wait… what is that ? Where’s The Noise ?

let’s… let’s not talk about him…

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #pizzahead #pepperman #the vigilante #fake peppino #the noise #gustavo #pizza tower au #pizza tower fanfic

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cyberscratch · 3 months

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TOP 10 CRAZIEST and SCARIEST videogame EASTER EGGS?!?

a little drawing tribute to a very specific genre of videos i used to love watching when younger, and also some very memorable classic "creepy" video game easter eggs - whether or not i've played all of them. also forgot to add I'm aware missing no is not an Easter egg but it's too iconic to not mention

i wanna talk about this somewhere...so i will!

there's a relatively small channel that i adore, (barely at 5k) that gives me similar vibes of some old things i used to watch that inspired this piece. not only because of the topics being discussed being basically the same, but also with the tone! i re-watched some of his videos while drawing this.

the channel is midnight krick, and if you like discussion of old creepypastas on the internet, video games, and someone who has delightful personal rambles... i suggest this channel! it's not very in your face, and the minimal editing is ideal for when you're drawing. i genuinely enjoy this channel so much so i really want to support his work in some way!!!

he even found the origins of the victim 1 image from the mario creepypasta, which is quite impressive! but as goes with all spooky things and images - warning for generally spooky things, possible upsetting topics within stories being discussed (usually has content warnings or a heads-up) and some unreality - most notably for the alternative pokemon timeline iceberg and classic video game creepypastas

do check it out!! :D

#no idea how i'll tag this...!#2-3 most recognizable things in the image i guess? not stuff id wanna find on my blog in the future probably but yknow #sonic #pokémon #missingno #guz art #[2024]#[january_2024]

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unseededtoast · 1 month

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Eight

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

Heading west, I keep walking through the night, though it's less than ideal. I take my time, wanting to stay quiet and undetected by both infected and people. The silence of the night allows my mind to mull over what I found today and how everything is supposed to fit together.

My mind can't seem to figure anything out that makes sense. The map is the only thing that makes the most sense to me. The notes, the game tallies, they all seem so odd but there has to be some connection. There has to be some reason these people were tasked with killing a specific age range of children in QZ's across the country. There has to be some reason they're connected to the Fireflies. I'm seeing bits and pieces of the picture, but not the full painting.

But what if this is all a bit bigger than I can take on? Am I walking myself right towards a death sentence? Maybe. Could I be making the wrong decision to go to Nebraska? Possibly.

The other alternatives are either to retreat back to the QZ and be stuck wondering for the rest of my life, or try to track down which QZ the others went to, and I could miss them and have wasted time. But if I guess which QZ they're going to next, I could possibly save more lives. I've never been good at gambling, and yet I find myself playing at the highest stakes.

Each step seems to take ten times the effort as normal as I consider my options, trying to see which is the most logical, which would give me the best odds of finding these people. As soon as I think I've made a decision, I second guess myself. It feels like there's no right decision to be made.

I stop walking in the middle of a street and stare straight up at the dark sky, the stars shining brightly down. If only they could give me the answer. The sound of a clicker in a nearby skyscraper gets me moving again, towards the interstate. It seems I've made up my mind, and only time will tell if this was the right decision.

Readjusting my backpack and yawning, I take in my surroundings so that I'm not ambushed by infected. Sometimes it seems like they come out of nowhere. My thoughts seem to run in circles until it starts to drive me mad. I have to think of something else or I'm going to go insane. And after searching for something, the green sign above the road distracts my mind and reminds me of the stranger I met only yesterday.

I wonder how Joel is doing, how his journey is going so far. He seemed seasoned to life outside a QZ, his time away from Boston likely forced him to adapt. Whatever job it was that he took to get out of Boston must have caused him to not want to return. But no matter the reason, I hope that he has a safe journey, I'm sure whoever is waiting for him is worried sick.

My path leads me to a roadblock where an old FEDRA checkpoint used to be, just before the entrance ramp of the highway. Cars are parked bumper to bumper and there's sandbags stacked on top of each other supporting a thick line of barbed wire. Knowing I can't climb overtop of it, I take a right and decide to go around. Sure, this is going to delay my trip slightly, but it's better than trying to go overtop of barbed wire. I don't really feel like nursing open wounds on my way to Nebraska.

As I go to turn left to get back on track I immediately stop moving. Standing in the street are three runners, all hunched over with quiet sobs. A clicker cries out somewhere close, its screeches ricochet off the buildings and echoes into the open air. My heart hammers in my chest and I take careful steps backwards so that I can keep my eyes on them. Thankfully, they don't see me and I'm able to get back to the front of the barricade.

I take a left instead, and hope for a better outcome. Bracing myself, I turn the corner and am in disbelief with what I see. There are four runners standing in the road. My eyes trail down the street and I see that they're all trapped here. The FEDRA barricade extends down the streets so that the infected in the Boston area can't use this ramp to get onto the highway. On one of the barricade sections I see the telltale sign of a door, there's a giant FEDRA sign hanging above it. That door would be a direct path to the road if it weren't for the infected. It seems that there's no unobstructed way for me to get to the highway. I'm up against seven runners and a clicker, at least. Even during the day I don't know if I could take this on.

Ducking back behind the building I try to formulate some sort of plan. How can I get through this barricade without the infected noticing me? I know the door is to the left, but there's no way I can get past all of those infected and open it. Even if I do sneak to the door, I know it's going to make sound when I open it, and that's like ringing the dinner bell for them.

Sound would be like ringing a dinner bell. An idea comes to my mind and I spot an abundance of bricks laying beside one of the cars. If I can get those bricks to all fall at the same time across the street, it should draw them away long enough for me to get to the door. It's still risky, but I think it's my best shot. But how do I get them to fall at the same time?

I don't see a way that I can pull that plan off without considerable time, and I don't have time to be stopped up here, not with all the infected. I stare at the pile of bricks and another idea crosses my mind. What if I use them to get over the barricade? I could lay the bricks in a way that I could get over the barbed wire. It might not be the most sophisticated plan, but it's going to have to work.

Quietly, I walk over to the pile and begin picking them up slowly. The barricade is at least six feet high, so I'm going to have to bring bricks up to the top of the sandbags and lay them there before I can construct something over the wire. I slide my backpack off my shoulders so that it's easier to get the bricks to the top of the barricade. Clutching three bricks under one arm, I climb the sandbags and drop them on top. Thankfully, the sand masks the sound of the bricks landing.

I take another trip up with three more bricks without incident, and feel more confident in my plan. On my last trip up with bricks, I drop them on the sandbags, but one of them hits the corner and falls down to the road with a loud crash. The infected hear it and I can tell they're rushing to investigate. I drop down to the road to pick up my backpack and see them coming towards me on both sides. Shit.

With the speed of lighting, I put my backpack on and start climbing the sandbags. I hear them getting closer as I reach the top, their carnal breaths loud in the night. I'm about two inches away from pulling myself to the top when I feel one of them grab my foot and it yanks me down.

My fingers slip on the sandbags and I fall a few inches before I'm able to grab ahold of something. Wildly, I kick my feet in an attempt to get them off of me, but there are too many. In a last ditch effort, I grab my gun from my thigh holster and shoot the ones who drag me down. The shots ring out in the night and I know it's only going to attract more.

The few runners I've shot collapse to the ground, which gives the clicker more space to reach for me. Clickers are infinitely more terrifying than runners, and they're about ten times stronger too. Runners take one bullet to kill, clickers can take at least two or three. I aim my gun towards the clicker and pull the trigger, but it just clicks. It's empty. Quickly, I shove the gun back in the holster and use both hands to grab onto the sandbags.

Adrenaline pumps in my veins and I fight harder to pull myself away from the feral infected. My pant leg rips at the bottom from their clawing and I feel my fingers beginning to slip. Clenching my eyes shut, I grit my teeth and pull with all my might to get away.

Just as I'm about to accept my fate, a shot rings out and one of the infected crumples to the ground. Four more shots hit the clicker, and it falls as well, body twitching on top of the others. Without thinking I pull myself on top of the barricade and whip my head from side to side to see who shot them. I grab my curved knife from my belt and hold it in front of me.

My chest heaves with each breath I take as the adrenaline begins wearing off and the panic sets in. Whoever shot them could be coming for me next. What if it's the T group?

From the shadows I see a figure approaching, slinging a gun behind them as they quickly jog towards me. Once they get close enough, I recognize who it is immediately. It's Joel.

He runs to the barricade and holds out a hand. I put my knife away and offer him my help up the sandbags. We both start using the bricks to construct a makeshift bridge across the barbed wire, the screeches of a dozen approaching infected rushing our movements. Joel takes bricks from my shaking hands and practically stands me up on his own and pushes me across the bridge, my other pant leg ripping from the barbs.

My feet hit the ground with a hard thud, quickly followed by Joel. His hands push on the back of my backpack and one word is clear over the coming stampede.

"Run." We take off sprinting down the highway's entrance ramp. He's slightly faster than me but I keep up well. Joel points to an abandoned car that crashed into a guard rail and I nod, showing him I understand the plan.

We yank open the doors and climb in. If the infected make it over the barricade, they shouldn't see us here and eventually will disperse. The two of us are out of breath and we sit in silence, trying to regain our bearings.

After a few minutes of steadying my breath, I take my backpack off and sit it in my lap. I rest my head on it and lean forward, closing my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down.

"Thank you." I say, slightly breathless. Raising my head from my backpack, I look over to Joel, who's glancing in the mirrors to see what's behind us. His eyes flicker to mine and he gives me a stern nod, opting to stay quiet.

If it weren't for him I'd be some infected's dinner. That fact sinks in and I feel an immense amount of gratitude. He didn't have to save me. He could've left me for dead. Most people wouldn't stick their neck out for someone they barely know, but he did. Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

My gaze turns to the mirrors as well, the two of us anxiously wait to see if the infected are going to make it over. The runners would have no issue scaling the wall given the proper motivation to do so, but they're less likely to if they can't immediately see something that grabs their attention.

After hours of us hunkering down silently in the car, Joel opens his door and gets out. He slings his bag and rifle on his back, looking behind him one more time. I get out and gear up as well. And just like the first time I met him, the silence is almost overwhelming. The morning sunlight begins rising, and I realize we spent almost the entire night in the car.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I debate whether or not I should say anything. Seeing as how he just saved my life, I decide it's the least I can do. I clear my throat and scratch the back of my neck, looking down at the ground to avoid awkward eye contact.

"I just want to thank you again for saving me back there. You really didn't have to put yourself at risk, but I appreciate it." I find the courage to look up, only to see him staring at me already with a fierce intensity.

"I thought you were headed towards that camp?" He asks, totally disregarding my appreciation.

"I was. I mean, I did. One guy was left but he was infected. I found clues though, about where they might be going." I tell him, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. He nods,

"So where're you headed?" He asks again, and it throws me off. This is the most talkative he's ever been.

"Omaha, Nebraska." I say, recalling the city where the large 'T' was located. Joel's eyebrows raise.

"That's quite a ways from here." He points out and I sigh, knowing I'm severely underprepared for the long road ahead.

"Yeah, I know. But I have to do this. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't." I confess to him. I'm well aware my choices defy logic, but, the alternative of letting the guilt eat me alive is worse.

Joel rests his hand on the top of the car and looks down the highway. He shifts his weight around like he's deep in thought for a few minutes. He's probably trying to think of a way to ditch me. Feeling like I'm intruding on his venture home, I speak up again.

"Listen, I appreciate what you did for me back there, all of it. But I know you're trying to get home so I'll get out of your hair, for real this time." I say and extend a hand out to him again, probably for the last time. Like before, he stares at my hand.

"I'm headed west and go right by Omaha." He says, squinting in the sunlight. I drop my hand once I realize he isn't going to take it, meaning we aren't splitting quite yet. My eyebrows draw tightly together in confusion as I try to understand what he's trying to get at. I think I understand, but I need to hear him clarify.

"Meaning what? We tag along 'til Omaha?" I hear the insecurity in my own voice and I hate it. Joel takes his hand back from the top of the car and nods.

"Safer that way, for the both of us." He confirms my thoughts and starts walking down the highway. I follow him, accepting his offer.

We walk side by side down the road, the only sounds being the birds in the sky and our gear rattling around. My mind is buzzing with questions I want to ask him, but I respect that he's a quiet, reserved man.

Every few minutes I check behind us, feeling paranoid that we're being followed. There's never anything there, but I'd rather check and see nothing than not check and be surprised. Joel is less paranoid I think, he walks with a silent confidence that tells me he's no stranger to the outside world. He understands it far better than I do.

The two of us walk for miles without saying a word until we come to an exit ramp. I recognize it as a suburb outside of Boston, but I've never been there before. Joel veers off the highway to the exit and I follow without question.

Off the ramp, there's a small town to the left and a bunch of housing complexes to the right. Seems like the perfect place for infected to be lurking about. But for some reason, I put my blind faith in the man leading me and trail him into the town.

He looks over his shoulder at me and points at a small brick building. I nod and approach it with him, preparing my knife for use. He stands on the opposite side of the entrance doors with his knife in hand, looking to me for confirmation that I'm ready. Silently, I nod and watch as he swings the door open. I wait for the sound of infected, but am pleasantly surprised with silence.

Joel seems to know where he's going though, he heads straight for the back room. I take my time to look around at the front room, seeing if there's anything of use. Most likely there isn't, but every once in a while I get lucky. The sound of whatever Joel is moving is enough to catch my attention, and I stand in the doorway. He's moving a large piece of plywood that's on the floor. There's a hole in the ground, and he drops down into it.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I go over to peek in the hole, seeing a small stash of supplies. Joel rummages around and picks up ammunition, a few cans, and another knife. He turns around and sees me staring above him, and he hands me items he can't carry himself; some cans of food and ammunition, before he pulls himself back out of the hole.

"You stashed that?" I ask quietly. He huffs as he puts away the extra supplies.

"A while ago." He answers and the two of us quickly shove the items in our bags. My bag feels like it gained fifteen extra pounds, but I can't complain. The extra weight means we have better survival odds.

Wordlessly, Joel moves out of the store and heads towards the suburban side of town, only a few miles walk away. The cookie-cutter houses remind me of the neighborhood I used to live in. A small, idyllic place at one point in time, turned to nothing but a ghost town now. Joel approaches the porch of one and opens the door. Luckily, it's empty and I follow him inside.

He blocks the main entrances to the home without a word, and I move to help him. I shove a strong chair underneath the handle of the back door and try to turn the handle to test its durability. After that, I make my rounds on the curtains and close them all. It seems like we're making this our base for the night. Once we've taken all the safety measures that we possibly can, Joel finds his way to the living room and unloads his stuff on the old, worn-down couch.

I place my backpack on the floor next to the couch and lean against the doorframe that connects the living room and kitchen, watching as Joel straightens his back out on the floor. His arms reach above his head to elongate his spine, and I hear the bones pop and crack. Wincing slightly, I turn my attention elsewhere in the house.

My eyes catch the fading family portrait on the wall and I go to look at it. The black frame houses an old photo. There's a man, woman, two kids, and a dog. They're all smiling, even the dog looks happy. My heart tugs at the sight of the happy family, and I can only assume what happened to them, just like so many other families. Sighing, I look at the other photos on the wall, seeing the slow growth of the children through still images. They look like they were probably high school age. My fingers find their way to the necklace that adorns my neck and I squeeze it tight.

A sound from behind me snaps me out of my thoughts and I turn back to see Joel staring at me. I offer him a polite smile and go to take a seat across from him on the floor, resting my back against the old couch. I fiddle with the torn edges of my pants, and can no longer restrain myself from asking questions. There are too many things I want answers to.

"How did you find me at that barricade?" My voice is soft. Joel clears his throat and shrugs.

"I took the long way 'round so I wouldn't interfere with whatever you were doin'. I was plannin' on taking this highway back home anyways. Guess it was just a coincidence." He plainly answers and I nod, accepting his answer.

"What a lucky coincidence." I smile, trying to break through the tension that always seems to hang over us. It's going to be a long trip west if he keeps things this short. He just shrugs in response,

"So what did you find 'bout those people?" He asks. I'm surprised he even cares, but I reach for my bag to show him what I've found. I spread the documents out in front of me and let him look. I explain to him what I know and what my theories are.

"Whoever they are, they need to be eradicated. Those kids, they were-" The tightness in my throat constricts my ability to talk and I take a shaky breath, remembering what it felt like to cradle the dying girl's head. Joel just nods, not needing further elaboration. He holds up the scraps of paper I found in the fire and reads the simple words.

"I'm not sure what those have to do with anything, and I'm not sure there's any sort of connection." I speak up, truthfully not knowing if they're of any value.

He puts the scraps down and picks up another piece of paper, the one with the Firefly insignia on it. As he reads the paper it's like the blood is drained from his face. My eyebrows knit together,

"What is it?" I ask and his startled eyes look deep into mine with fear that he tries to mask. An uneasy feeling settles in me. He looks back down to the paper and re-reads the note before he says anything.

"These bastards aren't going to live much longer." Is all he says before handing everything back over to me. The look on his face is unsettling, so I don't push anything further.

There has to be something he knows about this.

#joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us joel #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic

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self-love-tournament · 7 months

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Call for Submissions: The Self-Love Tournament 🎉👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

Be it alternate universes or freak transporter accidents, a witch's curse or timeline shenanigans, one thing that's fascinated scifi and geek fan culture for ages, especially on this hellsite, has been the prospect of meeting yourself.

And also.

What if you then did the dirty.

To honor this glorious tradition, I'm assembling a tournament that pairs the sexiest of tumblrmen with themselves, and then pits them against each other. We'll determine, once and for all, the selfcest champion.

Automatically included are some of the greats (and my personal favorites). Feel free to include them in submissions so I can curate lists of aliases/start collecting propaganda

The Onceler (from The Lorax movie)

Loki (from Marvel/the Loki tv show)

Ice King (from Adventure Time/Fionna and Cake)

Kira Nerys (from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine)

Dave Strider (from Homestuck)

The Doctor (from Doctor Who)

Sans (from Undertale)

England (from Hetalia)

Submissions

I'll try to prioritize characters with more submissions or more impassioned propaganda, so keep that in mind when submitting

+ Ground Rules:

I reserve the right to exclude any characters or fandoms from the bracket (to be fair, the most hated usually get voted off quickly anyway). For example, I decided to exclude a MCYT character, as their player is not comfortable with certain fandom behavior, and there's significant overlap between the character and creator. I'm not here to shame you, but I don't want to amplify something that sexually objectifies a real person beyond their stated boundaries.

Feel free to vote on whatever criteria you see fit! I try to prioritize iconic ✨ examples, ones that have had large impacts on Tumblr history, and any personal blorbos 💖

(NEW 9/20) I did say whatever criteria, but I do feel like I should address hate-voting. I'm not going to forbid it, but I ask that you consider if you really do hate the character/fandom that much. For example, Oncelercest isn't my cup of tea by any means, but man.... you gotta hand it to him.....

I love passionate (and even sometimes violent) propaganda, but do NOT bully anyone or send targeted threats. If it's getting nasty out there, I might use my judgement to adjust this rule, but I hope I won't have to.

Please feel free to spread this submission list! Tagging some of my inspirations: @ao3topshipsbracket @who-do-i-know-this-man @stop-spreading-this-poll @masked-character-competition @bestadaptationtournament @ultimate-anime-tournament @unlikely-adversaries-bracket @top-fictional-unhinged-women @mosthomoeroticenemies @bestfictionaldivorce @controversial-blorbo-bracket @tournament-winners-tournament @the-most-character-i-ever-saw :)

From my end, I really appreciated how @controversial-blorbo-bracket ran their tournament, so I'll try to follow their lead: be open and transparent, give people who are writing propaganda the benefit of the doubt where possible, and try to take passionate takes in stride.

(NEW 9/24) Constructive crit or feedback in good faith is appreciated! I want to make this a space for celebration of fandom

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monbons · 21 days

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an ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

thanks for tagging me @bookish-bogwitch, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, and @noblecorgi!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s): Currently, living, breathing, and eating my one and only WIP: The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch. Also, I am probably retiring after this fic because I do not think I can top it!

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___” Addie LaRue + SnowBaz = so much pain and angst

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it? Period-typical homophobia, Implied/referenced DV, Blood and Injury, Death... I mean truly the works. This is SnowBaz in the darkest possible timeline.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)? At one point, I joked with @thewholelemon about naming it "Baz Pitch's 300 Year Long Grope-Fest" but for obvious reasons that title would really do a disservice to this fic (although it is sort of true).

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next? Now that I've created a posting schedule for The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, I want to stick to it. While I'm "done" drafting, I am still making a few big revisions to the last six chapters. I've also been re-reading the first chapters for continuity issues that may have cropped up now that I know how this ends. Either way, I can see the finish line.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as) It started out as "Addie LaRue Working Draft." Once the one doc got unwieldy and long, it spun out into multiple docs titled all sorts of things - mostly chapter numbers, but I do have one not as fun as it sounds doc called "Sex Playground." (ha!)

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP. “Are you so naive as to think I cannot watch you whenever it pleases me, even if you cannot see me?”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP. I actually have SEVERAL scenes I scrapped...like pages and pages! Largely this is because I have a whole document titled "Voice," which served as a sandbox of sorts where I could play with every possible combination of POV, tone, and style before committing to the final version you see in the story now. There's even a scene in there told first-person Niall! (Bonkers.)

I also have a whole ACTUAL scene I'd love to include as an answer to this question because it was well-written, but I cut it because it made the plot unnecessarily complicated, was frankly too close to the original plot of Addie, and would have made my ending impossible. It is also--sadly--too big a spoiler to include here, so let me give you a few sentences from "Sex Playground" that will not be making the cut:

“Stay.” Baz pushes his hand into the center of Simon’s chest, pressing him back into the mattress. “I want to look at you.” Simon gives Baz a filthy smile. He can look all he wants.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet? I really want to write a canon divergence where Simon successfully but somewhat accidentally reveals Baz is a vampire fifth year, so Baz and the whole Pitch family have to flee from the Mage. I already have the "everybody finds out" scene written and the scene where the Mage realizes the Pitch family is gone, so I guess I have started it. But, I also have no idea where it's going or what it's about, so I haven't really accomplished anything. If anyone has ideas or wants to be a partner-in-crime on this, give me a little shout!

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on? Literally just this one. Again, I am retiring after this fic! (Or at least taking a very well-deserved break.)

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now? Absolutely 100% it is writing the smut. Having never written any on-page sex means I'm figuring it out as I go. Lots of frustrated growls from me (not nearly as frustrated from Simon).

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send. I know many of you have already posted, but tagging anyway since you've commented/liked past WIPsdays and such, in case you're interested in the behind the scenes!

@valeffelees, @roomwithanopenfire, @noblecorgi, @cutestkilla, @iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @drowninginships, @emeryhall, @hushed-chorus, @rimeswithpurple, @aristocratic-otter, @larkral, @artsyunderstudy, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

#tag game #writers asks #the eternal life of baz pitch #carry on #i really wish i could share all the things but part of the joy of this story is the slow reveal #feel free to ask me again once it's all done!

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seeminglyranch87 · 7 months

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Taylor & Travis Timeline

October 2023 - part 1

October 1 - Travis is seen leaving Taylor's NYC apartment around 11am. Travis heads back to his hotel where the team is staying before his Chiefs vs Jets Game at MetLife Stadium

Taylor attends the Chiefs vs Jets game at MetLife Stadium, NJ, with Blake Lively, Ryan Reynolds, Hugh Jackman, Shawn Levy, Donna Kelce, Sophie Turner, Sabrina Carpenter, Brittany Mahomes, Melanie Nyema, Austin Swift & girlfriend Sydney Ness, Ashley Avignone, Robyn Lively, and more. The camera cut to Taylor approx. 17 times during the game and the Eras Tour film trailer played twice during ad breaks. Taylor was seen hugging Donna, saying "you're amazing, I don't know how you do it" when the score was 20-20. Taylor was also seen mimicking Travis. The NFL change their tiktok and twitter pages again to reference Taylor's attendance. Various media outlets post footage of Taylor at the game, Travis likes a post of Taylor's reaction to a Chiefs touchdown. The Chiefs won 23-20.

After the game, Taylor was pictured leaving Zero Bond in the early hours of October 2. (x)

October 3 - Taylor is at Electric Lady Studios, walking in with Keleigh Teller. Taylor's shirt is referencing the song 'Any Man of Mine' by Shania Twain, the first lyrics of which are (x)

"This is what a woman wants Any man of mine better be proud of me"

Her hat says "Still Here", possibly referencing her Karma lyric

"Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here"

October 3 is also National Boyfriend Day.

US Weekly releases an article with quotes from 6 sources on "Why Taylor isn't hiding her romance with Travis Kelce" (x)

"Taylor has decided she's not going to hide anymore"

"She's going to be her authentic self and enjoy life"

The two "talk every day"

"Taylor's really enjoying getting to know Travis, they're taking it day by day, but she has high hopes. She likes that he's a normal nice guy. He's down-to-earth and isn't affected by fame. She also thinks he's hot"

"Travis is completely smitten"

"Taylor is at a point in her life where she's no longer willing to hold back. If something feels right - like it does with Travis - she's jumping in with both feet. She's very happy and loving life right now"

October 4 - Ep 57 of New Heights airs, part of the title is "The NFL Needs to Calm Down" (x)

"Is the NFL overdoing it? What is your honest opinion on how the NFL is treating celebrities at games?" asks Jason

"I think it's fun when they show who is at the game, I think it brings a little bit more to the atmosphere, brings a little bit more to what you're watching but at the same time I think they're overdoing it a little bit for sure, especially my situation. I think they're just trying to have fun with it... [the celebrities] are not there to get thrown on TV" responds Travis

October 5 - It's Travis' birthday today! He turns 34.

Donna Kelce makes an appearance on the 'Got it From My Momma' podcast. When asked what her favourite Taylor Swift song is, she responds (x)

"I think probably 'Shake It Off' -- we're getting a lot of that lately, about haters," Donna said with a laugh.

When asked if she's surprised about the infatuation surrounding Taylor and Travis' relationship

"I feel like I'm in an alternate universe because it's something that I've never been involved with ever before," Donna said.

The NFL release a statement in response to the New Heights podcast episode discussing the NFL "overdoing" coverage of Taylor at the Chiefs games, saying (x)

"The Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce news has been a pop cultural moment we've leaned into in real time, as it's an intersection of sport and entertainment, and we've seen an incredible amount of positivity around the sport."

October 6 - Travis speaks at a press conference. When asked about how he is adjusting to public interest in his relationship with Taylor, he says (x)

"As all the attention comes, it feels like I was on top of the world after the Super Bowl and right now, even more on top of the world. So it's fun,"

“We’re learning with the paparazzi just taking photos from all over the place. But at the same time, it comes with it,” he continued. “You got a lot of people that care about Taylor for good reason. You just got to keep living and learning and enjoying the moments. At the end of the day, I’ve always been pretty good at compartmentalising and being able to stay focused in this building.”

“I always check myself and my ego at the door and make sure that I come in with a clear mind,” he said, before being asked his thoughts on Swift’s world. “It’s worldwide, it’s worldwide, man. It’s been magnified for sure, though.”

A report comes out stating that the NFL asked its networks to promote the Taylor Swift Eras Tour Film at the Chiefs vs Jets game, likely in a bid to get Taylor to perform at the Super Bowl halftime show. (x)

October 6 - Taylor reportedly flew to Kansas City "to see Travis" for his birthday to have a "chill night" (x). A sneaky little visit for Trav's birthday.

October 7 - Taylor leaves Kansas City.

Travis flies into Minnesota for the Chiefs vs Vikings game

October 8 - Travis plays in the Chiefs vs Vikings game in Minnesota. Travis injures his ankle during the game but after an x-ray he returns to the field and scores a touchdown. The Chiefs win 27-20 (x) (x) (x)

Travis would later post pictures of this walk-in fit with the caption (x)

"keep it chill like Sauvignon Blanc"

These are lyrics from the song "Lil Boo Thang" by Paul Russell, which contains other lyrics such as

"I'll be shootin' that shot like 2K, girl"

"But I'm tryna get to know you at least Don't take my talkin' to you wrong I can keep it chill like a sauvignon blanc I'ma keep it real when your man long gone If you're lookin' for a friend, then you got the wrong song"

"You a ten, baby girl, but I'm the one"

October 9 - The Messenger puts out an article in which a source states (x x)

"[Travis] jokes [Taylor] is his good luck charm.

“Taylor is having the time of her life at these football games cheering on Travis. [Taylor] and her friends are fully embracing this era and are having a lot of fun being there. Taylor has worked very hard this last year and It’s fun for her to bring all of her friends along, let loose and show support.”

October 11 - Taylor is in LA for her Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour Film premiere. She shuts down The Grove, LA to host a red carpet and early screening event with selected fans, wearing a very 1989-coded blue Oscar de la Renta dress.

Travis, take note, she loved us first <3

TMZ releases an article saying that Taylor intends to attend Travis' next game. The question is, will Travis play with his injured ankle? (x)

"Sources with direct knowledge tell TMZ Taylor plans to travel to Missouri to watch Travis and the Kansas City Chiefs take on the Denver Broncos"

October 12 - Taylor attends Arrowhead Stadium to support Travis as the Kansas Chiefs take on Denver Broncos. Taylor is seen cheering on the team alongside Donna Kelce and Ed Kelce. Chiefs defeat Broncos 19 - 8 (x)

The Eras Tour concert film is released today (a day early) due to high demand in the USA and Canada (x)

October 13 - I go to see the Eras Tour concert film! just an FYI :)

October 14 - Taylor, Travis and friends fly to NYC

Taylor and Travis photographed holding hands as they arrive at Nobu, NYC, publicly confirming that they are a couple (x)

Taylor and Travis make guest appearances on SNL - Travis makes a cameo at the end of a sketch parodying the NFL frenzy over their romance. Taylor introduces Ice Spice as the musical guest. (full skit x) SNL IG (x x)

Taylor & Travis attend the SNL afterparty at Catch Steak NYC (x)

October 15 - Travis attends Eagles vs Jets game to support his brother Jason Kelce at MetLife Stadium, NJ. He is seen leaving Taylor's NYC apartment. Travis is given a friendship bracelet with beads spelling out "on the map" referencing a tiktok trend. He smiles and holds it to his heart. (x) (x)

Taylor & Travis are pictured leaving The Waverly Inn, NYC (x).

A nosey diner shares her observations of Taylor & Travis getting cosy (x)

Annie Williamson told The Messenger. "It looked super romantic and was super intimate."

"I cannot emphasize enough how close they were sitting, like so close and snuggled up."

Ms Williamson also shared a video of the couple leaving the restaurant (x). Thank you for your service Annie 🫡

Erin Andrews and Charissa Thompson remind their listeners of the Calm Down with Erin and Charissa podcast recorded on August 3 where they implore Taylor to date their friend Travis (x)

“please try our friend Travis. He is fantastic”

to which Travis commented on IG

“😂😂 You two are something else!! 🙌🏻🙌🏻 I owe you big time!!”

Go to previous update -> September 2023 Part 2

Go to next update -> October 2023 Part 2

Return to timeline

#taylor swift #travis kelce #taylor and travis #taylor swift and travis kelce #traylor #87 and 89 #timeline #killatrav #seemingly ranch #tayvis #Taylor & Travis timeline #87 + 13 = 100

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cosmiclion · 8 months

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If you thought I couldn't outdo myself more with the fluff for this AU then you haven't seen my true power yet 😈

I don't know if I got OCiel's bangs right but, realistically speaking, human hair never stays in the same place, that's how physics works so whatever lmao.

Anyway, trying to write a Black Butler AU with some fluff where Sebastian and Ciel have a parent-child like relationship WHILE keeping them in-character (Sebas more than Ciel tbh) and still basing it on canon material but making changes and making said changes make sense requires a bit of work ngl.

I mean, I know it's just a project I'm doing for fun and technically there's nothing stopping me from going nuts and making them completely OOC and disregarding canon at all, but I feel then it'd become a separate story with new, original characters who simply happen to be inspired by Kuro (which is also okay, and who knows, maybe in the future I'll repurpose the whole thing to create my own Kuro-inspired original story, even if I don't think I'll ever fully lose interest in Kuro, this cursed series has me in a chokehold lmao). Full ramble under the cut.

Sebastian is the hardest one to write, though I think I'm finally more or less figuring it out. I didn’t want to write him as suddenly learning to love the way humans do thanks to the power of cute children or something, as it just didn't feel natural (or I couldn't personally make it feel natural, I know other people have managed to write that concept very well). What I have so far is that when he does act nurturing he’s simply imitating the behavior of human parents he has observed, but he doesn’t love the kid the same way humans do because he literally doesn’t have that ability. BUT that doesn’t mean he feels nothing at all and that it doesn’t mean anything to Ciel, after all this weird creature is the one who saved his life and raised him with care and patience. The closest comparison I can think of is the relationship between people and “unusual” pets like reptiles, amphibians, insects, etc. We know they can’t love us the way other people (or even other mammals) would but that doesn’t make our bond any less significant! Some bits of canon material also come in handy here, for example I based the fact that familiar Sebas finds Ciel adorable as a kitten on the canon fact that he likes squishing his cheeks because they remind him of a cat's paws 😂 Just know he's an awkward demon who doesn't know how to human but is doing his best 🥺

I think in Ciel’s case I have more freedom since he is, after all, human, and a human’s personality is strongly shaped by their environment and life experiences. Like, what exactly counts as making a character OOC? Sure, I can agree that in a fanwork set in the exact same universe with the exact same events as in canon there’s some things a character would never say or do, but I think AUs were created as a way to explore what-if scenarios. What if this character had been raised by different people? What if they had grown up in a different place? What if this or that event hadn’t happened or had gone differently? Tbh I think it’s just fun to explore endless possibilities, it’s maybe a form of character analysis in some way. And if we think about it, canonverse Ciel was originally sweet, shy and affectionate, and if he’s the complete opposite now it’s only because he went through an utterly horrific and traumatic event that forced him to grow up before his time and toughen himself up because it left him with little to no support system, on top of having to be hyper vigilant because the only thing that "saved" him from that is a literal demon who wants his soul and is haunting him.

So I just wanted to create this alternative timeline where maybe things aren’t as terrible, or they start out as terrible but then some good things come from the most unexpected sources. Ciel is five years younger and thus has more time to process everything and try to heal as he grows up. Sebas isn’t entirely a bastard and willingly does nice things for the child, even if he still doesn’t understand human needs, and while he stills views him as a potential meal (at least at the beginning) he's actually respectful. There’s another demon who understands humans all too well and is happy to lend a hand. His friends and the relatives he has left are more involved in his life. So Ciel more or less has a support system now, albeit a weird dysfunctional one, and doesn’t entirely lose his sweetness (also like... he's 5/6 at the beginning of the story, we really can't expect a preschooler to be an edgy emo who craves violence and revenge ☠️). I imagine he grows up to be just as calculating and cunning as canonverse Ciel, maybe even just as ruthless in his job because it’s a requirement, and is still pretty much a little shit, but this Ciel is not as cold and undemonstrative. He’s still very much an introvert who prefers to be left alone, but he smiles (as in genuinely smile) more often and it’s a little easier for him to express emotions and feelings (more through actions than words, but still meaningful). Hell he may allow himself to be playful and silly sometimes if he’s in the moment.

And if it wasn’t clear from the picture, little Ciel ADORES Sebastian. Sure he's (understandably) a bit skittish around him at first, but once they bond he comes to fully view him as a parental figure. Yes, he's hurt, sad and traumatized, but he's still a resilient little kid, and with enough kindness Sebas can coax his old self to come out of his shell, and until the kid becomes more independent they're like a mama duck and her lil duckling. Their constant banter and bickering when he's older is more a teens being teens thing than anything.

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hareofhrair · 18 days

Text

Edith Finch Timeline

So I'm still organizing my theories (honestly they're more like a list of unanswered questions than a coherent theory right now) but I think my timeline is pretty much complete now that I've had a chance to go back through the pet cemetery and add all those in.

I do some wild speculating about Odin here that has no canon basis, just spinning ideas.

Things to notice- Just how many deaths happen on or very near birthdays. Not always the birthday of the person who dies and not every time, but suspiciously often.

The pets almost seem to fill in the years when no one human died? Like everything in this game it's nothing definitive enough to base a solid theory on, but it is odd.

TIMELINE

1439 - Earliest possible beginning of the Finch Family Curse based on the Odin viewmaster reel, as this is 500 years prior to the invention of the first viewmaster.

1445 - If the Odin viewmaster is the Model E made in 1955 (which I think it is), this is the start of the curse instead. Not much is happening in Norway during this period, but Vlad the Impaler was at the top of his game this year?

~About 7 generations of Finches dying horribly happens here.~

1880 - Odin is born. At some point between now and his death he writes "The Mysteries of Death and the Thereafter" and "Joining the Great Majority" which both appear to be books about the afterlife.

1896 - Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration begins with the Belgian Antarctic Expedition and won't end till after WWI. Expeditions are marked by depression, starvation, insanity and scurvy. Many famous expeditions are made by Norwegian teams. Odin is 16.

1911 - A Norwegian expedition is first to reach the South Pole. The British Scott expedition chasing the same goal are lost. Odin is 31.

28 July 1914 - WWI begins, Odin is 34. Norway, "The Neutral Ally", remains neutral on the war but due to economic pressure from Britain commits its merchant marine fleet (one of the largest in the world) to Britain's service. Half the fleet is sunk and 2000 seamen are killed. If Odin was a sailor, he likely served. Alternatively, he may have been one of the wealthy merchants who profited greatly during the war. He clearly has a great deal of money to burn by 1937.

June 17 1915 - Sven is born.

April 8, 1917 - Edie is born.

1935 - At some point between now and Dec 1937, Edie and Sven marry and Sven takes Edith's last name.

1936 - Ingeborg and her newborn Johann Finch die in an unknown manner. Odin is 56, Edie is 19, Sven is 17.

Jan 7 1937 - Odin sets sail for Washington.

Dec 1937 - Arrival on Orcas Island, death of Odin at 57. Molly is born, on the boat? In the Old House? Sven and Edie build the cemetery, and then the house.

1938 - Churpy the budgie joins the family.

1939 - Invention of the viewmaster, earliest point the Odin story could have been recorded.

Sep 1939 - Sep 1945 - WWII. Sven was 24, and may have served or been drafted.

1940 - Burpy the house finch joins the family.

1941 - Churpy dies.

1947 - Christopher the goldfish joins the family.

Oct 31 1947 - Halloween Baby Barbara

Sometime between 1937 and 1947 - Molly's unnamed gerbil joins the family.

Dec 13 1947 - Molly dies of apparent poisoning after eating mistletoe berries, on or very near her 10th bday. She relates hallucinating having become several animals, most notably a cat. Christopher the fish dies shortly after. The fate of her unnamed gerbil is unrecorded, as none of the unattributed headstones are of the right age, but presumably it dies eventually.

1948 - Burpy dies at 8.

April 25 1950 - Sam and Calvin are born.

Aug 26 1952 - Walter is born.

1952 - Lurpy the Cockatiel joins the family.

1955 - Viewmaster Model E released- If this is the one used for Odin's story, that puts the beginning of the curse at 1455.

1956 - Lucy the dog joins the family.

1959 - Bailey the (???) joins the family.

Oct 31 1960 - Barbara dies, allegedly murdered, on her 16th bday. Her boyfriend Rick disappears the same night. The version of her death shared in the game is notably extremely unreliable and raises numerous questions. Rick is seen in a leg cast using crutches. Walter is 8, Sam and Calvin are 10 and notably absent from reported events.

Sept 23 1961 - Calvin dies at 11 falling from a cliff. He is seen wearing a weathered and heavily autographed leg cast. His model shows him with a black eye and several cuts.

1962 - Zoe the (???) joins the family.

1963 - Lurpy dies at 11. (Cockatiels have a life expectancy of 20-25 years)

Aug 26 1964 - Sven dies on Walter's 12th bday, while making a dragon shaped slide. He's 49.

1968 - Walter enters the bunker. He's 16. Durpy the Dove joins the family.

May 7 1968 - Dawn is born.

1969 - Lucy the dog dies.

June 20 1969 - Gus is born.

1970 - Zoe dies

1971 - Purply the Budgie joins the family.

1974 - Coco the (???) joins the family.

Jan 12 1976 - Gregory is born

Dec 7 1977 - Kay files for divorce after arguing with Sam about the curse.

Dec 19 1977 - Gregory drowns in the bath a month before his 2nd bday

1978 - Shadow the cat joins the family.

1979 - Purply dies at 8.

1980 - Rob the Bearded Dragon joins the family. Bob the Snake joins the family.

1981 - Durpy dies at 13.

1982 - Oliver the rabbit joins the family.

Nov 8 1982 - Gus dies, crushed by debris from a storm during Sam's wedding to an unnamed woman.

July 16 1983 - Sam dies, kicked off a cliff by a deer. Dawn is 15.

1984 - Bob dies at 4.

1985 - Daisy the (???) joins the family.

1986-87 Dawn goes to India, meets Sanjay.

1988 - Shadow the cat dies.

Dec 27 1988 - Lewis is born. Furpy joins the family. Tucker the (???) joins the family

1989 - Oliver the rabbit dies.

1991 - Rob dies at 10. Furpy dies.

1992 - Zurpy the Owl joins the family.

May 19 1992 - Milton is born.

1993 - Charlie the cat joins the family. Daisy dies.

1994 - Durpy Jr the Dove joins the family.

1995 - Zurpy dies at 3. Schatzi the (???) joins the family.

Feb 14 1999 - Valentine's Baby Edith. Lowest tide in a thousand years allegedly allows Edie to access the Old House. At some point between now and Nov 2010, three unnamed gerbils join the family, and then die.

Feb 22 2002 - Sanjay dies in an earthquake, eight days after Edith's 3rd bday, Dawn and children return to Finch House. Dawn writes "To Teach and To Learn" at some point in the next few years. At some point between now and 2010, Dawn probably finds a stray cat and names it Molly.

Oct 23 2003 - Milton disappears.

Late 2003 to Early 2004 - Dawn searches for Milton, eventually gives up and seals the rooms for unknown reasons.

March 31 2005 - Walter leaves the bunker and dies, allegedly hit by a train. There are several strange inconsistencies surrounding the circumstances of his death.

2006 - Durpy Jr dies at 12.

2009 - Schatzi dies

Nov 21 2010 - Lewis dies of apparent suicide one month before his 22nd bday.

Nov 28 2010 - A week after Lewis's death, Dawn informs Edie they are leaving the house. After Edie attempts to give Edith a book containing a story about their family which Dawn violently rips away, Dawn flees the house with Edith immediately, leaving Edie and all her belongings behind.

(Molly the cat is not mentioned in regards to the move, so she may have died by this point, but she is not listed in the graveyard, so it's possible she was simply left behind. There is a taxidermy calico in Sam's room, but Sam was dead before Molly could reasonably have joined the family, so this is unlikely to be her. A cat is seen outside human Molly's room in 2016, which may prove she's still alive- but she'd be around 14 years old. An unlikely age for a cat abandoned outdoors for 7 years.)

Nov 29 2010 - Edie is found dead by nursing care workers, and may have killed herself by combining alcohol with her medication, intentionally or otherwise. She's 93, the only member of her family to live longer than her father, who died at 57.

Dec 5 2010 - The date on Edie's tombstone, a week after when she supposedly died.

May (around the 12-18th?) 2016 - Edith becomes pregnant.

Oct 12 2016 - Dawn dies of a chronic illness at 48. Edith is 16 and about 6 months pregnant.

Oct 13 - 19 2016 - Edith returns to the Finch House at 22 weeks pregnant.

Jan 18 2017 - Edith dies in childbirth a month before her 18th bday. Christopher is born (possibly named for Molly's goldfish?).

2027? - At some point in the future, a young Christopher returns to the house, which has changed since the last time it was seen. He is wearing a cast.

A note on unrecorded pets- There are additionally 5 (possibly 6?) unmarked pet graves in the cemetery. One of the blank stones presumably belongs to Rob the bearded dragon, who has a memorial in Edie's room but no gravestone. One is marked as a fish and another is a rabbit, with no names or dates. One is a knocked over and unreadable sign of the same kind used for the birds, indicating it may be an otherwise unrecorded bird. There is also a statue of a frog- the knocked over sign may instead refer to an unrecorded pet frog, or the frog statue might be a separate gravestone, or simply a decoration. This leaves one blank headstone with no indication of what might lie beneath it. Let's assume it's a mass grave for gerbils.

#what remains of edith finch #timeline

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