#back at it again with the old man posting

[fastandcarlos]

The Littlest Surprise » Daniel Ricciardo

caption: hello im a new f1 content creator and would love some feedback if you enjoy my fics tysm 🩷

summary: you’ve not been seen at the paddock for a while and the fans are getting worried, little do they know the reason for your absence is about to make everyone’s dreams come true

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, georgerussell63 and 842,420 others

danielricciardo: always a pleasure to have the fam on my side, excited to show the little ones what uncle danny gets up to 🥺

49,302 comments

username1: is this yet another race y/n won’t be at this weekend??

username2: I cannot wait for the day that this man becomes a dad

username3: if y/n doesn’t hurry up and make him a dad…daniel i’m happy to offer my services 😊

maxverstappen1: how big is y/n/n now! she looks so grown up 🥺

danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 she’ll be 6 soon, where does the time go??

oscarpiastri: don’t forget your little adopted aussie nephew

landonorris: and your british nephew too!!

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris hey! i might be a bit older but not old enough to be your uncle thank you

username4: anyone else think something might be going on, daniel posting about his family without y/n there is strange

username5: @/username4 let’s not overthink this too much, y/n might just be busy

username4: @/username5 it’s been ages since we last saw her, you gotta admit it’s a bit sus

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 629,301 others

danielricciardo: another great weekend of racing, nice feeling to be back on the podium…man how I missed hearing that champagne pop 🏎️

38,402 comments

charles_leclerc: congrats brother, nice to be up there with you once again

username6: y/n not distracting you anymore to stop you getting on the podium??

username7: @/username6 wtf? why would you suggest such a thing?

carlossainz55: always knew you’d be back up there one day, long may it continue!

yukitsunoda0511: you gotta give me some tips bro, those manoeuvres were lethal today 🔥

pierregasly: danny ric just doing danny ric things

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 922,547 others

danielricciardo: hey team! just wanted to clear up some things after miami this weekend…me and y/n are absolutely fine, had some things going on that I promise we’ll explain soon ❤️❤️ for now tho, here’s an update on life recently ☁️✨

92,174 comments

ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username8: I knew you guys would be okay, take as long as you need my two favourites!!

username9: a big screw you to those who doubted you…real fans love you guys

landonorris: I love you guys, here if you need anything brother ❤️

username10: hope whatever is going on clears up soon, we’re missing you guys around here🩷

lilymhe: tell y/n to gimme a call! ily guys ✨

visacashapprb: can’t wait to welcome y/n back into the paddock soon - see you for race week!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, iamrebeccad and 310,409 others

ynusername: it’s been a long few months, but we finally feel ready to share with you our happy news. pregnancy has been tough, I’d love to say it has treated me well, but it hasn’t. I cannot thank daniel enough for being by my side and helping me out whenever I’ve needed him…baby spam incoming ⛅️🍼

ps. each of us chose a picture to share, guess who chose what 🙄

28,461 comments

danielricciardo: words cannot begin to describe how proud I am of how brave you’ve been, the worst of it is over now my love, the countdown to baby ricciardo starts now

danielricciardo: ps my photo is way cooler than yours is

landonorris: omg I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me, uncle Lando reporting for duty!

carlossainz55: the biggest congratulations you two, you’re going to be the best parents

carmenmmundt: so glad to hear y/n is doing better, may the rest of your pregnancy be a dream ✨

lilymhe: the strongest girl I know - so excited to see you become a mum 😍

username11: all my manifesting has paid off, baby ricciardo will be the luckiest

oscarpiastri: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!!

estebanocon: my spidey senses were spot on, I knew a baby was on the way!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll and 102,585 others

ynusername: life lately 💫 exhausted but loving all the little things (including daniel 😂)

17,492 comments

username12: y/n looks like she’s living the dream, mum life suits her well 🥺

danielricciardo: im definitely not a “little thing” how else did we end up like this?

landonorris: @/danielricciardo excuse me sir you are about to have a child, sort your humour out

maxverstappen1: glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself again y/n, brunch on me soon!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 yes - let’s not tell daniel #gatecrasher

danielricciardo: @/ynusername you know your comments are public…right?

username13: anyone else wishing they could brunch with y/n too??

lance_stroll: sending all the good book recs your way!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 738,603 others

danielricciardo: babymooning 🍼 the smile says it all, so happy to have my girl back on her feet and feeling like herself again…making the last few memories just the two of us 🥺

83,500 comments

ynusername: thank you for the best couple of days and being my personal taxi driver

username14: look at his face - you can tell daniel is buzzing to be a dad

pierregasly: where was my invite?? I thought we were friends

carlossainz55: and mine!

georgerussell63: me too!

landonorris: looks like we were all forgotten!

visacashapprb: enjoy the break daniel! you and y/n absolutely deserve it 🏁🩷

username15: i speak for all your fans when i say keep the holiday photos coming pls

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 920,355 others

danielricciardo: mum and dad 🔥🥺

tagged: ynusername

58,429 comments

landonorris: adopt me pls, im less problematic than a baby

danielricciardo: @/landonorris debatable

lewishamilton: so glad to see you both so happy, good luck with everything

charles_leclerc: wow!! y/n looks insane (suppose you look alright too daniel!)

ynusername: mum and dad?? i can definitely get used to hearing that 🤩

alex_albon: it’s not fair how adorable you two are, this kid is hella lucky!!

username16: pls keep the baby spam coming, you guys are the sweetest 🍼💫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511 and 109,446 others

ynusername: the many faces of a man who has just remembered he’s just signed up for no sleep for the next 10 years 😂

tagged: danielricciardo

23,201 comments

danielricciardo: after all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? you just wait my love 🫢

ynusername: @/danielricciardo this was too good of an opportunity to miss

carlossainz55: make the most of that middle photo whilst you can danny

georgerussell63: you have NO idea how much I just laughed at this y/n 😂😂😂

schecoperez: speaking from experience, you could not be more correct y/n #dannynosleep

username17: embarrassing dad before even becoming a dad 😬

oscarpiastri: call me for anymore embarrassing daniel pics 😂

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri no one asked for you to show up here

username18: I just want you to be my mum and dad instead 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt and 113,999 others

ynusername: can you believe this man is really about to become a father?? 🤦🏻‍♀️

32,694 comments

charles_leclerc: sometimes i really do wonder what you see in him y/n

landonorris: the biggest clown known to man, still the world’s biggest kid 😂😂

danielricciardo: is that really how you want to talk about the father of your child? I thought you were supposed to love me

ynusername: @/danielricciardo i do, ily very much 🥰

username17: not y/n releasing all the humiliating photos of daniel now they’re about to be parents

username18: y/n’s clearing the phone album for baby spam and giving us daniel spam in return

logansargeant: more to the point, this is the guy you chose as the father of your child??

lilymhe: the two of you are perfect for each other y/n ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,403,407 others

danielricciardo: welcome to the world baby ricciardo 💕

after a lot of hardships and tricky times, y/n and i are beyond excited to share with you that our little one is here. everyone is safe, loved and doing well, my heart has never felt so full 🥺

tagged: ynusername

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 reaction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x you #formula 1 social media #formula 1 imagine #formula one #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader

[sharksnshakes]

New Perspective

After losing a bet with friend and fellow DSO agent Leon Kennedy, he takes you for a ride on his motorcycle. Unforeseen consequences include windburn, watery eyes, and maybe developing a crush on him. Maybe.

AN; so i'm back with another installation of bestie leon wanting to be more than besties. you can read as a continuation of this one, anyways post-re2 leon is still on the brain and likely will be forever

Wordcount; 1.1k

TW; mentions of a potential motorcycle crash, mildly suggestive

Never again are you making a bet with Leon Kennedy.

"What were the terms again? Five minutes?" He asks, a shit eating grin on his face.

You speak through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Five."

Leon's grin widens.

"Shut up," you say halfheartedly, warily glancing down at the motorcycle you're both perched on.

"Didn't say anything, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and zip your jacket up.

You're not sure how Leon's bike is supposed to safely carry you at all, let alone through busy downtown streets, without throwing one of you off or blowing up or spinning out of control or something. Suffice to say, you're not a fan of motorcycles--Leon knew that when you'd made the bet, and you'd only agreed because you'd been so certain that you'd win. Why else risk life and limb on the back of his Ducati?

That was the thing about Leon Kennedy and bets, though, because you've come to realize that he's got a way of winning regardless of how the odds are stacked. It's great for field work, but it's also a massive pain in your ass, because (news flash) you lost and now you'll have to endure a five minute ride on his death trap of a motorcycle.

"Let's get it over with," you sigh, looping your arms around his waist. The engine purrs beneath you, sending a shudder through your body.

"Y'know," he muses, and you can hear the grin in his voice, "I bet I could do a wheelie."

You laugh, you hope he doesn't feel the slight tremble in your hands, you hope he can't hear the nervous twinge to your voice. "Absolutely fucking not."

He drives slowly through the parking garage. Most DSO staff have already left for the night, and it's probably better that way, because the last thing the two of you need is for a hotshot supervisor to call you out on your antics. Meaning Hunnigan. Because if Hunnigan saw that neither of you were working on the literal mounds of paperwork gracing your desks, she'd probably hit you with a Jeep.

"Might wanna hold on tighter than that," Leon says offhandedly, revving the engine as you approach the street entrance.

"I'm not your backpack, Kennedy."

He chuckles. "Didn't think you'd know the lingo."

"You know that nobody says 'lingo' anymore, right? This is why Claire says you sound like an old man."

"Well, suit yourself," he shrugs, and suddenly you're rocketing into traffic.

You curse violently, digging your fingers into Leon's sides hard enough to bruise. You swear you feel him laughing, but you can't hear a damn thing over the engine and you're more focused on not falling into oncoming traffic.

"Fuck you, Kennedy," you mumble against his leather jacket, your eyes tightly shut.

The agent banks around a turn and you just barely hold back another string of curses. As his body shifts in the seat, you can feel the muscles in his sides stretch and shift and move beneath your fingers, and, wow, he's built, and now your cheeks are pricking with heat. You try not to think about it.

"You okay back there?" Leon calls, bringing the bike to a slow stop at a red light.

"Haven't decided yet?"

"Well, lucky for you, we're at-" he stops, glancing quickly at his watch. "-The two minute mark. Only three to go."

"Technically," you say, peeling yourself off of his back, "It's already been five, if you factor in the drive from the parking garage. So I say we head back."

He casts a glance over his shoulder at you, a smile playing across his lips. "That wasn't the deal, sweetheart."

"Would you quit with the 'sweetheart'?"

"You'd prefer 'backpack', then?"

"I'd prefer nothing, actually," you tease back, even though a tiny voice in your head riots at the thought. This banter with Leon is nothing new. You go back and forth like this in the office, on jobs, whenever, but perched on the back of Leon's bike has you feeling like you've crossed a line with the teasing somehow, like maybe he's actually flirting with you and maybe you're not actually minding it.

"Yeah, well..." The light changes to green. "Nevermind. Hang on, yeah?"

This time, you're feeling brave enough to divert some of your attention from clinging to Leon like your life depends on it, and instead you glance to the sides and take in the bustling downtown scene around you.

The sun's just barely set, casting a dusky haze over the streets. Pedestrians clog the sidewalk, passing through pools of golden lamp-post light; some duck into stores, some leave their apartments, some walk their dogs. You pass a restaurant with outdoor seating, a bookstore, a bank, and you've seen all of these places before on your daily commute, but the back of Leon's motorcycle is affording you a new perspective.

You turn your head to look at the other side of the street and catch a waft of Leon's cologne in the process. It's faint, but distinctly him. It's enough to bring the tiny voice in the back of your head to center stage, where it drenches the situation in rosy colors and 'what if's and 'sweethearts', grabbing you by the shoulders and practically injecting fantasized scenarios into your head. Everything from grocery shopping to painting your living room to getting in bed--

Oh, fuck, are you being a creep?

"Just another minute!" Leon shouts.

You nod against his back and swallow with a dry mouth. Your cheeks are flushed, you can feel it, and you hope you'll be able to play it off as windburn. The last minute of your ride is spent not unlike the first: with eyes slammed shut, ignoring Leon's heartbeat at your chest and ignoring the way your own heart whispers that there's more to be had here than just a friendship.

When Leon finally parks the bike in the garage and cuts the engine, your chest unclenches. Your five minutes are over and you are never getting on a motorcycle again.

The blond helps you off, looking far too amused.

"So, sweetheart... you liked the ride, yeah?" He raises his brows at you suggestively, but it's so exaggerated that you're positive he's just doing this on purpose.

You still nearly choke on your spit.

All the way back to the office, the two of you go back and forth over whether the Ducati's evil and dangerous and a horrible investment. He's laughing, insisting it isn't necessarily deadly, and you keep laughing incredulously and saying that's not a strong argument. Things feel normal again, and you've effectively written off the tiny voice in the back of your head as a bizarre, anxiety-induced response to your first and last ride on a motorcycle.

But his hand lingers on your shoulder for a little too long when you say you're heading out for the night, and after the rapid-fire scenarios that flashed through your head on that goddamned bike, you're not so sure you got rid of that tiny voice after all.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil vendetta #resident evil death island #leon kennedy x you #bestie leon kennedy #hes so silly i love him

[heartlyrins]

HAII any quick drabbles abt dad!blade? i remember reading one if ur dad!jy posts that blades daughter have it WORSE than jing yuans...... :3

I just realized I never wrote about daddy!blade, I honestly forgot.. 😓 daddy blade deserves some recognition too

Tw:incest, noncon, verbal and mental abuse mentions, past child abandonment, ass abuse again!! Dldr under the keep reading <3 don't come after me when you've seen the warnings itself

Just want to say that you absolutely do not want this man as your father. I mean.. When he was Yingxing he practically abandoned you in his house, leaving you chores, making you cook for yourself once you were old enough.. And when he means old enough he means that when you reached the age you could start talking.

I mean it. This man would leave you to do your own thing like you aren't an 8 year old child, STILL NEEDING GUIDANCE FROM HIM but he leaves you alone anyways to make shitty weapons. Then when you were like 13 he apparently committed some shitty crime and sentenced to prison while being immortal or stuff..

You had a couple of years from him, your uncle Jing Yuan takes care of you while he's not there and you much prefer Jing Yuan more than him. But we'll, after he's been through shit and fought Jingliu over and over again he came back to you.

New form, black hair.. Is this even your father?? And now he's basically evil so he drags you to go follow him do stellaron hunters mission with him, but the catch is.. You stay trapped in his room while he's doing mission which makes it all the worse.

You much prefer him just leaving you alone and abandoning you instead of staying trapped in some kind of spaceship.. Strange spider lady takes care of you now, but only in terms of food or something.

Then when your father comes home his body is stained of blood and he drags you over to bathe with him. He's not touching you, no he's not. It's a just a father-daughter bonding time thing. Oh, you don't want to? Well would you rather do something else like being spanked until you're bleeding?

No right? So let him do this. And eventually it would become a normal thing. He comes home from tiring missions>>>>>you get fucked out of your life until the bed almost break. He comes home from dangerous enemies and now he's bleeding>>>>you have to treat his wounds while riding him.

Disobedience is not a thing he would accept, you've been taught the painful way. Not just spanking though! Whips, flogs, paddles and other things. Why would he even have these things? Kafka buys it for him. You thought that woman was on your side, but all these time of course she supports your father.

-1/10, staying with him would only get you nonconned everyday getting ass abuse everyday.. Also you might have a 10% chance of dying, increased with how much you make him angry.

Is this even a question

#daddy!blade.nav #daddy!jy.nav #tw.dark content #tw.noncon #tw.incest #yandere hsr #hsr smut #hsr noncon #jing yuan noncon #yandere jing yuan #jing yuan smut #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #blade hsr #yandere blade #blade smut #hsr blade #blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade.nav

[milkywayhou]

"One step backward. Two steps forward"

Summary: “호랑이🐱: Congrats to the happy couple! @Hans839 I’m sure you’ll take good care of our Snow.”

Or

Snow make one silly post and it accidentally blew up.

TWs: Nothing. Just some weird stuff.

Words Count: 900+ words (Not really much)

It was meant as a harmless joke – Snow never dreamed it would cause such a stir. It all started when she took a rare week off to help a friend with their photography project. Trying on various elegant gowns was good wholesome fun – at least until she impulsively snapped a selfie in her favorite flowing white gown with some vague caption about “Feeling nervous for the big day”

Her post were blowing up with congratulatory messages, assuming the gown meant something more significant. Snow laughed it off, replying with bubbles and clown emojis.

Suddenly she noticed a new tag in one of the comments from a certain Korean operator, Horangi.

“호랑이🐱: Congrats to the happy couple! @Hans839 I’m sure you’ll take good care of our Snow.”

Squinting in confusion, she clicked to see who this “Hans” person was that he had tagged – only to realize that the account was set private.

Then Snow nearly dropped her phone in horror when Horangi’s congrats and mysterious tag unleashed a torrent of notifications – their colleagues from KorTac flooding her post, assuming the worst.

Her blood ran cold.

Even some higher-ups Snow barely knew chimed in with off-color jokes. Great, now she’d given the crotchety old Admirals yet another reason to gossip about her love life.

Holy shit, was this some practical joke? Snow wracked her brain trying to connect the dots as more congratulatory messages poured in.

All at once, things clicked into place. Hans must be a high rank man on their base. And knowing Horangi’s mischievous streak, he had purposefully tagged the him just to stir up trouble. Judge by his name this Hans dude was probably a German person, and she was aware of the fact their Colonel is a German.

Fuck

It was König.

As in, her commanding colonel at KorTac, König. The scary, stoic commander she’d only ever patched up in medbay. Faceless weirdo who’d never said more than four words to her but ALWAYS stared so intensely she swore he hated her guts. Snow had no idea he even had social media, much less that his profile was connected to his real name! What was Horangi thinking?

There was only one thing to do – delete the evidence and face the heat wave of embarrassment back at base. But when Snow pulled up the post, she froze again when she noticed more senior commanders had already congratulated her! Deleting it meant the possibility of loosing her face on her workplace!

That day, Snow was mortified hurrying back to base, ready to hide in the weapon lockers for a year and came back later like nothing happens, praying and hoping everyone will forget about her silly post that created these misunderstanding if she suddenly show up one day with a big smile and say “Oh, no, That post is just a joke hahah. And no, I don’t marry the colonel. It was Horangi’s idea haha..” Oh how she wish it was easier like that. Pretty sure it wouldn’t end too well.

“Soooo, when’s the big day? I call being best man.” Snow’s panic must have showed, because Horangi chose that moment to saunter over with a shit-eating grin.

“Horangi I swear to God, you and I are gonna have words-“

“Oh, by the way Colonel König wants to see you, Snow. Good luck…” And with that he leaves doing only God knows what while humming something that sound similar with ‘Here Comes The Bride’, leaving Snow shuddered to imagine König’s reaction, quietly seething behind his closed office door no doubt.

She was so screwed.

How could she face him now without dying of mortification?

Steeling her nerves, Snow marched over and gave a tentative knock. At his gruff “Enter,” she slipped inside, bracing for the inevitable eruption. Instead she found König leaning back casually in his chair, staring at her with an amused glint that somehow wasn’t comforting at all.

“So Schatz , care to explain this intriguing post I saw over your break?”

Snow spluttered helplessly, launching into a garbled excuse about costumes and photoshoot as König watched with growing amusement. Finally he cut her off, standing to slowly circle her desk until she was caged between his arms.

“I see. Well since we’re apparently already engaged…” His predatory tone sent a shiver down her spine. “…We may as well have some fun with it, ja?” That’s when Snow knew she was absolutely fucked when she felt the cold feeling of metal on her ring finger. She sighed before replied back, fighting a smile of her own while mentally plotting Horangi’s demise.

“Of course, Sir”

=====

At the base, König went about his duties as usual. But come evening when things quieted, old habit drew him to Snow’s profile like a moth to flame when she was away from him. What he found made his breath catch.

There she was, his beautiful Schatz, beaming radiantly in white satin. Before reason could intervene, König double tapped to like the photo, mouth curving up at the image he hoped to see for real someday.

Unfortunately one certain meddlesome comrade had been watching too, ready to seize any opportunity. Not long after, a notification popped up on König’s phone – Horangi had tagged him in a comment on Snow’s post, congratulating them both excitedly.

On the one hand, he knew Snow too well, It was undoubtedly just an innocent tease on her part. But on the other hand, the thought of another man putting that gown on her, claiming HER as their wife... Makes König saw red. At that moment strange knot formed in his stomach as he studied the photo more closely than proper.

And then, an idea took hold that he might be able to use this amusing misunderstanding to his advantage…

=======

Phewww. I just done write this one a few weeks ago. Don't worry, I'll continue the other fic later but don't know when, since my right ear is getting worse and I might go seek medical treatment.

Also Love, Reblogged and Comment will be really appreciated!

#könig cod #doodle #art #cod mw2 #cod x oc #cod oc #könig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #cod fanfic #könig x oc #call of duty original character

[joelsleftknee]

the earth from a distance (see how it shines)

Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller!Reader | Post-outbreak/Jackson Era

WC: 1.9k

Multiple part series: Series Masterlist

Content Warnings: Canon divergent obvi cause Joel doesn’t go golfing in this one, ANGST ANGST ANGST (literally wrote this cause there’s not enough agnst to read out there), age gap, reader has hair and is shorter than Joel but no physical descriptions other than that, cute winter romance, bookworm reader, eventual fluff, eventual hurt/comfort.

Joel turned over a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands before putting it back on the shelf. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyeing the cracked spines of the books flanking him, replaying Maria’s advice in his head telling him to go check out the new library and pick a good book to curl up with for the winter. Before the outbreak, he never was much of a reader, other than a few self-help books here and there—sort of second-nature for the entrepreneurial, single dad.

With the endless amounts of downtime and sudden luxury of boredom of small town life in Jackson, Maria chided him to find a new hobby. Granted, he was running out of ideas for figurines to carve and chord progressions to strum. But he knew that, more than anything, Maria felt bad for him. And if there was one thing his bruised heart could not handle was pity. So here he was, if only to convince his sister-in-law that he was perfectly capable of going out into town (read: the postal-shop-turned-library about, at most, 70 feet from his home).

“Hello! How can I help you?”

Joel turned on his heels, peering over the shelf that reached just past his chin.

You sat behind a small wooden desk—one he’d built a while back, he realized, and traded in exchange for a camera and a very much expired roll of film that he was yet to use, in fear that he would waste it. In Jackson’s bartering system, goods made their way around the small population fairly easy, so he was not surprised to see his desk had found a new home.

Joel blinked then, gaze catching on the bright smile stretched across your lips. You were leaning forward, forearms braced on the desk surface as though you were excited to see someone come in. Your face was not exactly familiar, so he wondered if you’d just moved into Jackson or if he had been as unsociable as Tommy argued he was. “Always holed up in your home, brother. Live a little,” the younger Miller would say every time Joel turned down an invitation to one of the many town events that the City Council—led by Maria—put on like, at this point, every single weekend.

“No,” he said finally, his pause so long and the sounds of his voice thick enough that he had to clear his throat in hopes to ease the awkwardness. “No, I’m all set, but thank you.” He gave you a nod, his eyes meeting your bright gaze before casting down to the floor

“All right, just let me know if anything comes up,” you said, your voice melodious in a way that reminded him of hot summers by the lake under the Texan sun. He glanced at you again, but your eyes were now trained on the book opened before you. So he took advantage of that moment to take you in.

You were young, he concluded at the sight of your vibrant skin and the faint seemingly evergreen smile that hadn’t been weathered off your face yet.

And—your lips. The shape of them was… enthralling. In the same way that a ripe fruit on the highest branch of a tree is. And these days, fruit was scarce. In the Apocalypse. And at the brink of winter.

“Actually,” Joel muttered before repeating the word again, slightly louder. “Yes.”

You looked up at him, unaware he had been eyeing you like a man stranded on a desert island coming across an oasis. Your head tilted to the side, as if in confusion.

“I do need help, I mean. With choosing a book,” he added quickly, realizing that perhaps he had been staring at you longer than he estimated. The thought didn’t sit well, embarrassment roiling in his stomach. He was acting like a lonely old man.

Which was accurate, he supposed. Though his pride refuses to admit it.

He resisted the urge to exit the room altogether in shame, only because you stood up with what had to be the loveliest smile he had seen in decades. Coming around the desk—his desk—you walked over to him.

Cradled between the two bookshelves flanking you, you stood before him, clad in a forest green cardigan that most definitely had been knitted from the wool of the sheep in Jackson.

“So,” you started, waving your hands to encompass the old tomes, “what kind of book are you looking for?” You looked up at him, and that was when he realized that you were short. Or at least shorter than him.

Joel shifted on his feet. “Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll be honest with ya. I don’t know much ‘bout books.”

Goodness. Lame. He was embarrassing himself. He sounded like he learned how to speak yesterday. Like he learned what a book was today.

But you giggled, and the sound made something jump inside his chest. “No worries, I’ll be delighted to help you choose something good.” You turned to one of the shelves, adding, “As you can see, our collection is still rather small. It’s difficult to find books. Especially ones that haven’t been absolutely destroyed by the elements.”

He nodded, racking his brain for something to say but coming up blank.

Leave. He needed to leave. What was he doing?

He gulped, the words “Actually, I’m good—I’ll just head out” about to leave his lips when you said, “You’re Joel Miller.”

It wasn’t a question. In fact, it was a reminder. A reminder that though he did not know you, you knew him. And that meant you must know what type of person he was, too.

No one in Jackson dared crossed him, and no one actually expressed outright dislike for him. Instead, it was avoidance. People avoided him in the way one avoids the scary and cryptic next-door-neighbor who might or might not have spent the past twenty years in prison. Except he actually was the scary neighbor, he supposed. He carried the weight of the sins that had kept him alive for the past two decades like a stone around his neck.

He was sure you’d heard of those sins already.

“That I am,” he said, with a nod so solemn that it almost looked like he was confessing a crime.

Regardless, you still smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you.” Your index finger ran over the spines of the books as you scanned the titles, searching. “I’ve heard great things about you.”

Joel stiffened, jaw setting.

“I’m friends with Maria,” you continued. “She’s been so sweet, helping me set this place up. It’s like a dream.” Your eyes crinkled at the corners. “And she’s mentioned you a few times. She said you might stop by, looking for your next read. Something to curl up with when it’s cold outside, specifically.” Your eyebrows raised briefly, attention snagged by one of the titles, before resuming your search. “She also said you haven’t read much in a while. And that Ellie—your daughter. She’s been the only one to get you to read anything lately. And they’re, in Maria’s words, ““just silly books about space.””

He tilted his head. “Did she also tell you my blood type?”

He panicked for a second, thinking the joke might’ve come off the wrong way, but your shoulders shook in a delighted chuckle. He wasn’t able to stop the small smile that twitched the corner of his lips.

“She didn’t, but she did say you were an exceptionally skilled patrolman.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye. “And that perhaps we could strike a deal.”

You knelt down on the floor to search the lower levels of the shelf.

“A deal?” Joel’s gaze was transfixed on the top of your head, on the lovely color and texture of your hair.

“Yes,” you said, “you find books for me on patrol, and I help you repair some of your clothes.” Joel’s brow furrowed before you added, “Maria also mentioned you needed to sew some buttons back on some shirts, fix some rips, and do other modifications.” You chuckled nervously. “I promise I’m not a stalker. And neither is Maria. She’s just a great listener. And very fond of you.”

Joel found himself smiling at that. “Well, she ain’t wrong. I do need those things.” He watched your eyes and smile widen as your finger stopped on the spine of a book.

As you pulled it out of the shelf and rose on your feet, you extended him a hand. “Deal, then?”

He blinked.

You wanted to shake his hand. He couldn’t move for a second, but he managed to still his stupid nerves, wrapping his large, calloused fingers around your soft, delicate hand. His breath hitched in his throat at the brief soft touch, and he let go before making it worse.

“Deal,” he breathed.

You handed him the book, the dust jacket somehow decently persevered but now guarded in transparent plastic. You read the title.

The Fellowship of the Ring.

“The Lord of the Rings?” Joel asked, sounding a bit surprised.

You grimaced. “Have you already read it before?”

“No,” he clarified quickly. “I’ve heard of it. Never read it.” His lips curved upward, involuntarily. “Thank you for your help…” he said, and heat crept up his neck in that moment as he came up short and realized he never asked you for your name.

So he did, with a quick apology for not asking earlier, which you waved off under the pretense that “it’s not like I would ever mind being known as the girl who runs the library.”

When you said your name, it made sense. It sounded as bright as you. As though your name were the name of an unknown, most beautiful color, in the same way that an orange tastes just like the color orange.

He followed you to the front desk, where you sat again. Pushing the book you had been reading aside, you opened a notebook that was once ruled, but the blue ink was almost invisible by now.

You wrote down his name, next to today’s date, and asked him to sign it.

His fingers brushed yours when you handed him the pen, and he scolded himself for what felt like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes for the shudder that went down his spine.

His signature was just his name, in neat but surely not elegant handwriting. Archaic and unimpressive, much like him. And nothing like you. Young and like the sun.

“All right, Joel,” you said, snapping him from his self-deprecation. “You get the book for two weeks. So if Tommy’s forecast is right, we’re getting our first now before then. Hopefully you’ll find the story one worth curling up with when it’s all white and freezing outside.”

Joel met your eyes again, clutching the book against his abdomen. He couldn’t resist—his lips mimicked your smile, albeit more reserved.

With a nod, he said, “Thank your for your help.” Reluctantly, he took a step back, still facing you. “Stay warm, darlin’,” he said without meaning to.

“You as well,” you replied, shock briefly dancing across your eyes at what he called you. You offered him a delicate flutter of your fingers as a goodbye wave that made his heart lurch in his throat.

He finally turned to leave, eyes fixed ahead.

The doorbell mocked him as he exited the small building, his boots stepping into the dirt street as he inhaled a mouthful of cold air.

As he walked the few dozen steps to his house, mind addled by the sound of your voice, the shape of your lips, and the softness of your skin, he knew. In his old, weathered heart, he knew.

He was done for.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller hurt/comfort #jackson joel miller #joel x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #tlou #pedro pascal characters

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader) pt.3

a/n: decided not to include smut just yet, it didn't feel right considering the story, next time i promise we'll f the raisin

Warnings: Blood and Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Smoking Cigs

Summary: The camp gets attacked, and as such, important changes are forced to develop. Cross-Posted on AO3

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

Old. He feels old. 

His age is like a thief in the night, it creeps up on him, slowly, before sinking its teeth right into his bones. There are centuries to his name now, and still, he doesn't learn from his mistakes. It's him chasing a woman, that has gotten him in this mess in the first place, and now he's doing the same damned thing. That's the only explanation, why he lets you get away with as much as he does. 

Here you sit, curled into yourself, his lasso secured tightly around you, your hands raised towards your face. He watches with confliction, as you put a cigarette up to your lips, the bud lighting your features for just a moment, before a cloud of smoke escapes into the dark night.  It's a deep, heavy inhale, your chest expands. He can feel the lasso move under his grip, and he flexes his fingers against it.

He's never seen anyone smoke in such an elegant manner, not after the bombs anyway. This regal air, a natural sort of poise, intrigues him beyond any reason. How did the Wasteland not destroy all this grace, how are you untouched by the roughness of this world, is beyond him. He tries to categorize everything he knows about you, all the small tidbits of information he has gathered through the short time you've been travelling together. Still, nothing explains this strange nature of you, and Cooper leans back, the sound of your Geiger meter spiking every time he moves. 

Cooper reaches into his pocket and takes out a pack of cigarettes, your cigarettes. Feeling your gaze on him, he takes one and lights it against the small fire you both got going. Well, in all fairness, it was you that started the fire, while your captor watched you struggle, keeping his leash on you. 

Those strange little power trips seemed to be one of his favorite games. He wouldn't be the first man that got off on power you've met, but he was definitely the most annoying. Your throat still burns slightly from the smoke, as you throw him a displeased look. 

The nicotine is barely noticeable to him, like a grain of sugar in a very large chocolate cake. In his case, the cake is made of every drug possible to find in the Wasteland. 

Still, Cooper tastes the pre-war chemicals with a strange sense of melancholy. It makes him remember, again, and he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke, not bothering to smother a low groan of pleasure. Your eyebrows jump to your forehead, but you compose yourself quickly, throwing your burning bud into the fire. 

The events of the previous night are still vivid in your mind. His fingers flexing against your tongue. His knee between your legs, close but not close enough. Perhaps he wasn't the only one getting off on this uneven relationship, but you were not about to admit it, even to yourself.

- So - your voice is rough from the smoke, and you swallow around a lump in your throat - Where are you taking me?

He doesn't answer for a long while, just enjoying his cigarette, your cigarette. And he seems to be enjoying it very much, more than what's considered proper. Honestly, with the way he's been groaning, you wouldn't be surprised if he came on the spot just from the smoke. The thought makes your cheeks redden, and you chastise yourself for even thinking in that general direction, again. Has it really been that long?

- Shady Sands - smoke pushes past his teeth, surprisingly intact for a Ghoul.    - For real?

- Yup - another drag, you watch his chest expand under his coat - Shady Fucking Sands.

Your head slumps down, as you turn your gaze back to the fire. Hunger creeps up on you, and with your hands tied, you reach over to an Iguana on a stick roasting over the flames. Your tongue burns from the heat, but as soon as the chewy meat hits your stomach, you're ready to sing to the heaven's. 

- That's an awfully long way for a bunch of caps - you note, between quick bites of your food - What was my bounty? Five hundred?

The last time you've checked, it was something around that number. Not too shabby, but not worryingly big either. Just enough to keep you on your toes for any desperate newcomers, but not enough to warrant attention from anyone actually dangerous. The Ghoul, as desperate as he looked back at the bar, started to look more and more like a professional, every second you've spent with him. There was something in the way he walked, the way his eyes stayed vigilant and aware, that screamed danger. Still, for five hundred caps, times must've really been hard on him.

- Try ten thousand.

A piece of meat lodges itself into your throat as you inhale with surprise. As soon as it happens, you cough it out, and it flies back into the fire, leaving you heaving with tears in your eyes. 

- How much?! - you demand, hands trying to massage the pain in your chest. 

The Ghoul smirks, taps the brim of his hat with his gun, which he kept trained on you for over three days now. 

- Had I known I'm worth that much, I'd turn myself over a long time ago - you murmur, and the Ghoul shoots you a mirthless laugh.

- Thought you ran a charity, Healer - he spits your name out like the worst of slurs, and with half a mind you wonder why it bothers him so much. 

Still, his words hit a little bit too close to home, and you turn to your skewer, chewing in silence, until he gives you a wordless permission to sleep.  Tugging your messenger bag under your head, you listen to the various liquids sloshing inside, your Geiger meter cracking away on your hand. The Ghoul stands up to put out the fire, as cold was better than anyone finding you in the wilderness. Then, he sits down, a short distance from your curled up form. 

You can feel him, even if you can't see him, and with tired arms, you tug your robe closer around your body. 

- I try to be good - you whisper into the night, into the hot coals of the bonfire, into his unyielding indifference.

- You ain't gotta explain yourself to me, sweetheart - he answers in a low voice, and it's the nicest thing you've heard him say, since you've met him. 

***

The raiders come at night, as they always do.

You're still halfway into deep sleep when the first shot rings out. The bullet lodges itself into the ground right in front of you, dirt exploding across your face. It doesn't wake you at first, confusion and remnants of some distant dream muddling your senses. 

The Ghoul springs to action with record speed, and before you can truly react, he shoots three shots in the direction of the tree line. That's when you jump to your feet, ears ringing and head swimming with confusion. 

A man in a tattered blouse falls to the ground, right next to the small fire pit, ash flying into the air. You can see his blood seeping into the coals, but before you can react, The Ghoul grabs you by the shoulder, all but throwing you behind him, as he levels his gun in front of him. 

The ringing in your ears mixes with the wild beating of your heart, as you try to wrestle the panic into submission. The Ghoul's tattered coat whips itself across your ankles, and you've never wanted to be free of your binds as much as in this moment.

Silence. Complete, and utter silence engulfs the two of you, and you grab onto the bounty hunter's arm to steady yourself. His head turns in your direction for just a second. Eyes lock together, something flickers across his face, but it's gone before you can even begin to decipher the expression. 

- I'll check the parameter - he grumbles, and walks towards the closest tree. 

At first you don't even know how to voice your protest, as he all but ties you to the tree, securing his lasso, and consequently cutting off any means for you to escape. Like a wild dog, you're left there, watching him turn away in favor of walking into the trees. 

Panic rises in your gut, as you tug on the rope.

- Hey! - you whisper-yell after him, eyes searching for any more attackers - Don't you dare leave me here!

But he's already walking away, keeping himself low, his rifle tight in hand. A couple of steps into the tree line and he blends completely with the surroundings, like he belongs there, amongst the trees. Chest heaving, you double the efforts of freeing yourself, the rope digging painfully into your wrists.

Frustration quickly overcomes fear, and you kick out, the ash from the bonfire swirling around you like a cloud.

Then, a twig breaks somewhere behind you, and your blood freezes in your veins. 

***

Cooper moves through trees like he's one with the southern wind. 

His coat shuffles around his ankles, as he presses further into the tree line, more bothered by the small attack than he would like to admit. 

The bullet almost hit you. In the head no less. Ten thousand caps, gone in a second

He allowed himself to close his eyes for just a moment, barely a second, and it was all it took. When has he become so sloppy, he couldn't tell, but he supposed it had something to do with the way you looked like, when sleeping. 

So at peace, like this hard ground was the most comfortable bed in the world. Your cheek squished into your messenger bag, as if it was the softest of pillows. He wondered, what warranted such trust, such peace of mind, that you fell into deep sleep almost as soon as you closed your eyes. 

Did you really trust him that much?

A dangerous idea, he thinks. An idea he might've entertained centuries back, when he still had a nose and didn't look out onto this hell of a world through layers upon layers of cynicism. Still, your curled form tugged on something, some shadow of his former self, that he needed to squash sooner, rather than later. 

He was getting too damn old for this. 

Cooper finds the raiders camp in a matter of minutes. Two sleeping bags, a bunch of empty bottles and, to Cooper's dark amusement, a half-eaten human leg. 

So, not just raiders, but fiends as well. 

Cooper kicks at one of the sleeping bags, his eyes searching for anything of use. And that's when his mind catches up.

He hears your scream tear through air.

His head whips back, hat almost falling. 

A shot rings out.

Ten thousand fucking caps. He's an idiot, an old idiot. 

Cooper starts to run, branches snapping under his boots as he cuts through the trees with surprising agility. Another scream, raw and gut wrenching, and he can almost see your bloodied body twitching under the second fiend. The one he didn't get. 

Rifle first, he all but barrels into the clearing, for a split second not knowing what he's looking at. 

Because yes, there is a bloodied body in the camp, it's face barely resembling human features with the way it's been brutally eviscerated. But it's not yours. Too thin, too male, too hardened. 

That's when he sees you. Curled against the tree, where he tied you down and left you. Your hands are gripping some large stone, blood drips from your fingers, down to your arms. Your shoulders are moving, up and down, in a steady rhythm of deep, heaving breaths, and for a second, Cooper allows himself to feel relief. 

You don't even look at him, still holding onto the rock, nails biting into it's surface, and he can't clearly see your face, but he can see the blood. Your Geiger meter crackles, as he comes closer, kicking at the dead fiend, just to be sure. 

- We gotta get moving, there might be more of those fu-

His words die in his throat, because suddenly, something collides with staggering force onto his body. Landing on his back, he immediately lifts his arms up, to shield himself from bloodied fists, slamming into his chest, into his head, wherever they can reach. 

- You left me! - your voice sounds like a wounded animal - You motherfucker! Why did you leave me?!

There is no real force backing your punches, all your strength apparently drained by what you did to fiend just moments ago.. They do become quite irritating, and Cooper wrangles your, still bound, hands until he has your by the wrist. And that's when he sees you. Finally, truly sees you.

You're hunched over him, straddling his waist, hair whipping around your head like some deranged angel's halo. Features twisted into a mixture between fury and anguish, your face is red, sticky with drying blood. 

Beautiful, tragically beautiful, Cooper thinks, and this time doesn't chastise himself for it. 

- Why did you...?! - your voice cracks like a broken mirror - You're the one killing people, not me. I'm not... I've never...

Cooper fights through your spasming muscles, as slowly, your anger dissipates, leaving nothing but tears, which are now creating pathways down your cheeks. Finally, he understands. Your poise, your elegance, the gentleness in every movement. 

You've never killed anyone. Never taken a life. 

Unknowingly, he has made you into a killer. 

Shoulders sag against his hold, as you slump into him. He feels you, the length of your torso on his, your shallow breathing warming his shirt. And he lets you rest, lets you curl into him like he isn't worse than both of those fiends combined. Like he hasn't just put you through this hell, hasn't tied you up, dragged you through God knows where. 

- He... - you choke out, and Cooper curses at the way his hands slide around your back to hold you closer, tighter - He tried to...

- I know - he doesn't know what has possessed him, but he comforts you just the same - I know, sweet thing. I'm sorry.

Tears fall heavy onto his collarbone, as you let yourself be held. And he holds on with everything he has, deciding that perhaps, you both have some time left. Fingers trace the pattern of your curved spine, the dips between your shoulderblades. He dares not move lower, even though perhaps he wants to. Perhaps he would take advantage of this situation and try to find out just how much he can get away with. But some missplaced feeling of decency wrangles itself onto the surface, swallowing down all the murder, and the lies, and all the horribly depraved things he has thought about, while keeping you hostage. 

 It takes some minutes for you to calm down, and when you do, he pulls you up. Not the usual tug of the rope you're both used to, but a gentle hand in your hand, helping you steady yourself against him. The warmth of your body is all but a memory now, and he clings to it for just a moment longer, a souvenir for later. 

The silence is heavy with unsaid words, with actions that will have disastrous consequences. But as he unties you from the tree, as you look over at the bloodied body of the fiend, he finds that there are no words left to be said. 

So you swing your messenger bag over your arm, and let him lead you further into the Wasteland. No longer yourself, no longer the Healer, but something else entirely. 

#my writing #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul smut #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #fallout smut #again this one is a bit shorter but the next one im going all out on the story

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

Ok I’ll be totally completely honest I’ve been WEIRDLY nervous about posting this and I DONT KNOW WHY

But here is FINALLY. FINALLY the long awaited somewhat joke somewhat serious analysis/theory that Bitores Méndez and Luis’ Grandfather had something going on between them

Again just take this post with a grain of salt, I’m just here to have a little bit of fun but ANYWAYS

My first point; It’s canon that Luis grew up with and almost treated Bitores Méndez as somewhat of a father figure; this was apparently true for most if not all of the children in the village, but Mendéz seemed to have had a particular fondness of Luis, even going as far as to encourage his love for science and fictional literature from a very very young age. Which by itself is definitely worth noting- Valdelobos was a very very devout Catholic village before Saddler arrived (as stated by the design team as well as through visual clues such as rosaries and bibles being scattered around, Luis signing the cross after he kills a villager, the location of the village itself etc etc) which I IMAGINE wouldn’t be very fond of their youth engaging in fantasy and science as that goes against a lot of super hardcore Catholic beliefs. But not only does Méndez encourage it; so does Luis’ Grandfather. Why else would Méndez be so willing to excuse Luis’ interests if it weren’t for a fondness of his Grandfather???

And circling back to Méndez’ relationship with Luis- we get told that Luis would be told by his grandfather to stay behind and, presumably, be taken care of by Méndez while he went away on hunting trips. Who knows if Méndez did this for ALL the children in the village, or JUST Luis, but we know from the fact that (again, presumably) the only reason Luis’ Grandfather was attacked by wolves was because he was distracted by Luis’ presence that Méndez most likely kept a pretty close eye on him on behalf of his Grandfather. Plus!! Méndez was the village chief!!!!! The fact that he took the time out of his day to specifically take care of Luis AND engage and foster his interests is very telling!! He clearly had a lot of respect and/or fondness for his Grandfather on SOME level to do that for him.

And then of course we get to the infamous fire; Luis’ Grandfathers notes describing his slowly worsening state is just devastating and culminates in him telling Méndez; ‘You know what to do.’ He trusted and knew the man well enough to know that HE’D know what to do when worst came to worst. He didn’t even have to SAY, ‘light the house on fire’, he just knew Méndez would understand instinctually. Luis’ Grandfather even explicitly asks Méndez to take care of Luis after he’s gone!!! That’s so telling in my extremely humble opinion!!!!!! Like yes, sure, absolutely you could just assume that it’s his natural trust in the village chief, but Luis is all he had left- and I personally think it’s very poignant of him to pick Méndez specifically to take care of him.

Again, could this all be just regular old fondness of Méndez being the village chief and/or just them being good friends?? Well sure absolutely!!!! This is all just my personal interpretation!!!!! But I think it’s very interesting that Luis himself is a somewhat queer-coded character as well the fact that him being raised by healthy father figures in his childhood affects who he becomes when he’s an adult. He’s a gentleman at heart and is always always putting others first before himself- again, his childhood directly affects how he acts when he’s older and I just think it’s super fascinating to see a character having grown up with father figures that were there and active in their life their ENCOURAGED their interests carry that along with them and have that encourage the actions they make. It’s little things like that that make Luis such a beautifully crafted character to me at least.

And also I think it’d be funny if being gay ran in the family HDNWNENDJ

AGAIN. Again. Don’t take this post too seriously. You don’t have to agree with it I’m just having a bit of fun and I hope you had some fun too

#luisposting #luis serra navarro #luis sera #luis serra #luis sera navarro #bitores mendez

[ninyard]

Came here from your in universe tweets posts and have just realised you're also Irish.

What are your thoughts on Kevin Day seeming so American through and through? I personally wish Nora had given him an accent or something seeing as he was raised by his Irish single mam. Like I kinda wish there had been some cultural differences there even if it was done badly.

However I think Nora was very on point with the fact that if somebody was going to make a very violent stickball sport it would be an Irish person.

I don't know anybody IRL who's read aftg and I would love to hear somebody else's thoughts on Kevin's Irish heritage lol

I wrote these silly little hcs about Kevin’s childhood in Ireland but a lot of that is kind of dependent on Kevin having had more of a childhood in Ireland (which I don’t think happened but I haven’t got a clue what the timeline of Kayleigh being in Ireland to Kevin being born is tbh)

Personally I wish Kev was a little more Irish and I also think the Irish mammy thing would’ve had a HUGE influence on him (again depending how old he was when she died). She would’ve been his best friend if he’d grown up with her. Also the internalising of his problems is VERY typical of an Irish man but I’d like to imagine Kayleigh tried to break the cycle of that mentality in sons/first born sons and it was destroyed by the Moriyama’s.

Things I would maybe like Kevin to have/do:

- just a little bit of an accent. On certain words, or if he’s drunk or tired, or if he’s speaking with an Irish person, his accent QUADRUPLES in intensity.

- burns in the sun SO EASILY but also wears shorts when it’s barely even hot at all

- he drinks tea when it’s cold because it’s comforting and it reminds him of his mam. It’s the one indulgence he allows himself because she took her tea sweet so he heaps two teaspoons in when he feels like he needs a hug

- I’ve mentioned it before somewhere but I believe that Kayleigh was from the west, from a gaeltacht area and spoke fluent Irish, and raised Kevin to be bilingual until she passed, and he never continued and honestly probably forgot it. He remembers little words here and there but really not much at all.

- right after he graduates he spends an entire summer in Ireland before he starts with his pro team. It’s a silly decision for his exy career really because he could use all of the professional practice he can get, but he needs it. He goes back to Ireland and visits all of these places he doesn’t remember, the places where Kayleigh grew up and took kev when he was a baby. Maybe his grandparents are still alive, and his grandfather plays hurling with him, and they speak to him in Irish, and he spends the summer learning and just relaxing and reconnecting with his roots. Maybe his grandmother has a box of Kayleigh’s old things and for the first time in his life he holds something belonging to his mam other than his letter. Her jersey with her original IRE National Court number on it from the Olympics just a few years before she died, and some photos he’d never seen before. I’d really love for him to just be able to know his mam better somehow. I feel like he deserves it!!!

(He comes back with the most obnoxious Irish American accent after that summer and he gets ROASTED for it. But he doesn’t care, because he feels so much closer to his mam having spent that much time at home)

I am CERTAIN that Kayleigh was inspired to create Exy by watching hurling. There’s no way she wasn’t. Exy is the bastard sport of lacrosse, hockey AND hurling.

#maybe he joins a local hurling team for a couple of months #idk! Irish person thoughts! that will probably not translate to a wider audience #but I’m so passionate about kevs roots #also I can’t believe there’s another Irish person alive who’s read AFTG #where have you been

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (4)

In which Ollie and Aubrey's interaction is captured online

part 3

notes: hey y'all! this is super slow burn but I promise its worth it :) Leave a comment ( I go feral for those) and ask to be added on the tag list if u please

..............................................................................................................................

f1_09gossips posted

clip one: An iPhone camera captures a slightly grainy video of Aubrey Yang, wearing a newly given Ferrari cap, greeting Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux after the Monaco Grand Prix. She shakes his hand and gives her a hug in greeting. The three converse in rapid French, laughing once in a while. Ollie Bearman walks by mid-conversation, and Charles grabs his arm. The tall boy turns and sees Audrey, cheeks flushing visibly. Her back is now turned to the camera, but she waves and he smiles at her. The paddock is crowded and loud, but the camera shakily zooms in on the group. She shakes his hand, and he bends down to ask her something, speaking into her ear. She smiles and nods and he looks to his manager for something. His manager hands him his phone and he takes a selfie with her. He lifts his arm and she slides under it as he hands the phone to Charles. They both hold up peace signs, arms wrapped around the other. She offers him a hug as his manager calls him to leave to an interview. He returns it eagerly, bending down a little to hug her properly. Her hands loop under his arms to pat at his back gently, and his are wrapped around her waist. When they break, he says something again and waves as he leaves. Alexandra and Charles watch on with thoughtful looks on their faces.

clip two: Aubrey Yang, walking hand in hand with Lily Muni He as the two navigate through the paddock.

f1_09gossips Aubrey Yang seen in the paddocks yesterday!

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dudududumvp GUYS I SAW THEM and let me tell u ollie was fangirling

-- user1 hello???

-- dudududumvp yeah he was blushing and everything it was so cute

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang Was an absolute privilege to film in my home city. WE LOVE YOU VANCOUVER 🇨🇦

White Jade Tiger is a project that is so close to my heart. As a second generation immigrant, this book meant so much to me as a child. Now, getting to play Jasmine and bring her story as well as thousands of others to life is an honour. Oh, and a Dallas pic to feed your soul :)

WHITE JADE TIGER OUT JANUARY 2025

tagged: whitejadetigermovie, dallas_liu

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and 670,332 others

view all 371 comments

dallas_liu 🔥🔥🔥

user1 oh i didn't know she was canadian

-- aubreyyang born and bred, baby!

-- aubygfan1 OMG ILYSM

charlesleclerc felicitations!

-- aubreyyang merci! j'espère de vous voir (et Alex) à la première

-- f1wagsfvr damn everyones flocking to her insta she must be so lovely

-- dior.n.goodjohn trust me she is

-- user2 dior what r u doing here 😭

macecoronel congrats!

this comment was removed

WESTERN ASIA MEDIA PRESENTS

Dallas Liu and Aubrey Yang for White Jade Tiger

Western Asia Media Interviewer: Welcome, you guys!

Dallas Liu: Thanks for having us, man.

Aubrey Yang: It's so good to see you!

WAMI: It really is. Last time we saw you both, you were working on Crazy Rich Asians and Shang Chi respectively.

DL: laughs and shakes his head. Woah, that was actually so long ago.

AY: Don't, I feel old.

WASMI: Okay, so before we get started, we have a couple of personal questions... Aubrey, we didn't know you spoke French!

AY: Oh, that. I grew up speaking Canadian French at school, because it's mandatory in Canada. But actually, I've met some really good friends lately who are Monégasque, so my accent has been leaning towards there.

WASMI: Are these friends by any chance very famous motorsports racers?

AY: Yeah, Charles and Alex. They're both super cool.

WASMI: Onto you, Dallas...

f1wags posted

f1wags Ferrari rookie Ollie Bearman and model girlfriend, have allegedly broken up, according to sources.

liked by bearmanheart and 3846 others

view all 30 comments

user1 NO WAY

bearmanheart MY CHANCE BRO

user2 aww they were cute

user3 rip

olliebearman posted

olliebearman Monaco you never disappoint 🇲🇨 ❤️

liked by charlesleclerc, aubreyyang and 78,972 others

view all 347 comments

user1 i think him and Estelle actually did break up she hasnt been at any of the races for like weeks

-- user2 do uk why

-- user3 prob because shes so much older

charlesleclerc what are you doing partying 🤨

-- olliebearman sorry dad 😔

aubrie_yangfan WAIT IS THE BREAK UP CONFIRMED my Aubrey ollie pipeline might come tru

-- username5 ur actually delusional 😭

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @callsignwidow

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[bynott]

31st of october. sirius black.

the potter’s house is left in shambles, much like your heart when the love of your life is whisked away from you for a crime that, only you know, he would never commit.

warnings: death, brief mention of a miscarriage at the end

originally posted on @prodsjone (my old account), but with a few edits

your feet hit the ground as you apparated to godric’s hollow. you were unsteady, fearing that what your fiancé, sirius, had believed would be true. you couldn’t even bear the thought of waiting on sirius’ bike to see if the news was true and that is why you chose the quicker way of transport.

there were muggles everywhere in front of you and you were quick to push through them. “oh no,” you choked out upon seeing the destruction that the house had been put through. completely ignoring everything, you ran into the house but quickly regretted it. there lay james potter, a boy who you had grown up with, a boy who you knew to be a friend.

your sobs shook your whole body. there was no life behind his eyes and he was cold to the touch. dragging yourself up the stairs, you didn’t think it’d be possible to cry more than you already were until you saw your best friend in the entire universe dead as well. lily evans, newly lily potter. the girl who loved everyone with everything in her. the girl who had just become a mother. she was so young.

beside her sat a crying baby. you felt your lungs be refilled with much-needed air. harry is alive, rang through your head a million times over. you quickly grabbed the boy and turned him away from his lifeless mother. even though he will never remember this, it was cruel to leave him with the site right in front of him.

you walked down the steps and tried your best to keep your eyes off of the empty shell that was james potter; the empty shell that used to be so full of life. outside the door stood hagrid and you felt like you could fall into his arms.

“let me see him,” hagrid said. you handed him over reluctantly and as you did so, sirius appeared. he ran to you and hagrid before stopping to look at the baby. sirius reached for him but hagrid moved harry out of sirius’ grasp. his eyes widened and you could see his emotions flicker from heartbreak to anger.

“i must take him to his relatives. dumbledore’s orders,” hagrid muttered. you exchanged looks with sirius.

“hagrid, james doesn’t have any family left and you can’t possibly be sending him to lily’s rancid family,” you pleaded. hagrid looked down sadly at the baby.

“you’re not taking him,” sirius said, once again reaching for harry. hagrid moved him out of reach again and started walking away.

“dumbledore’s ord-,” he was cut off by sirius abruptly yelling.

“i don’t give a damn what dumbledore ordered. that’s my godson!” hagrid kept walking and ignored the pleas. you continued to sob as you watched the last part of two of your best friends slip between your fingers. sirius kept up with hagrid and you could hear him trying to bargain with the large man but it was no use.

you dropped to the ground; your eyesight was clouded with tears and you felt the most hopeless you ever had. every single one of your friends were dead,  your fiancé, remus, and peter being the only exceptions. but, one of the three was a traitor. you were always with sirius and knew it couldn’t have been him. your mind was jumbled as you thought about the possibility of it being remus or peter.

you looked up in time to see hagrid flying away on your fiancé’s bike. “you let him take harry?” you yelled out. sirius whipped around to look at you.

he ignored your question as he walked towards you and dropped to his knees. “i love you. i have something i need to do. do not leave the house.”

he held his tears back and his voice was uneasy. for once, you could not tell which emotion, anger or sadness, was getting the best of him. you wanted to hug him, but he kissed your head and just like that, he was gone. still gasping for air, you watched him leave.

something bad was going to happen, again.

you apparated back to the house you shared with sirius and sat down where you landed. you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up. you leaned against the wall and you must’ve sat there for hours. memories of lily and james played through your head. today was only the third time you’d seen harry as they were whisked away to protection almost as soon as he was born.

you nearly screamed when the front door was busted open. three men walked through the door, immediately moving to a defensive stance. “y/n y/l/n, come with us. we have questions to ask you about sirius back.”

“what happened,” you asked as two of them grabbed your arms and pulled you up.

“he’s been charged with the murder of twelve muggles and peter pettigrew, giving out the information of the potter’s hiding place, and working for lord voldemort.”

“are you insane? he didn’t do any of that! i’ve been with him everyday for the past two weeks, he wouldn’t have had time to go behind our backs without me noticing,” you pleaded.

“so you admit to being with black this entire time and as he did not have a trial because of sufficient proof, you have aided him this entire time?”

you were flabbergasted. how could they assume such a thing? you were drug out of the house and the next day, you found yourself on trial in the ministry. dumbledore and remus were both there, in fact, many surviving members of the order were. dumbledore spoke in your defense and you were ultimately found not guilty.

however, as the years passed by, sometimes you wished they had found you guilty. you knew sirius didn’t kill those people and you weren’t his accomplice. but, you were so lonely and so miserable.

all of your friends and family were dead. not long after your trial, a saddened healer informed you of the news of a miscarriage you unknowingly experienced. that was your final straw – though you had no idea, your last connection to sirius had been stripped away before you even got to cherish it. there was nothing left of him in your life other than the grief he left behind.

nothing left of james.

nothing left of lily.

and nothing left of anything you found happiness in.

sirius was going to die in azkaban and you often wished you could, too.

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter au #harry potter fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black angst #james potter #lily evans #remus lupin #dad sirius black #sirius black au

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 6

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out.  Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding,kissing, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely. The whole fic will be around 30k words.

Thank you all again and again for taking the time to read the stories I put out.

***

Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing, your head is a little fuzzy but not nearly as bad as you’d experienced. Opening your eyes you flip the phone over to see it’s nearly twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Blinking a few times you make yourself sit up in bed flipping your phone on to see a deluge of text messages. Groaning you turn your phone off and stretch. Before any messages were answered you need coffee and maybe a shower. 

Showered and suitably caffeinated you finally flip open the text messages. 

Trevor: 

9 am: So what happened?

9:1 5:Hello?

9:30: Look do I need to call the police?

10:30: It’s been hours….

10:32: You never texted me when you got home

11:01: Okay it’s after eleven. You never sleep in. 

12:45: I am coming over in thirty minutes if I don’t hear from you. 

You reply:

I am fine, I just got home super late. I hope you’re not coming over

Trevor:

You scared me! 

Why didn’t you text me back?

How late were you out

Wait did you go back to his place?????

You groan squeezing your eyes close and drinking a healthy swig of coffee.

You: 

We went for sushi, then went down to the beach. 

Trevor:

That’s all you're giving me! What kinda 1950s dating scene is this?

You chuckle replying:

We stayed at the beach until 3 am. 

Trevor: Wait did you have sex on the beach

You:

TREVOR! 

Trevor:

It’s an important question. Don’t want to find out on the gossip train.

You:

why can’t I have nice things TREVOR. No there was no sex in PUBLIC, we kissed and held hands. Can I not do that????

Trevor: Are you secretly asexual? There is nothing wrong with that. I think it’s romantic. 

You:

I am going to become asexual if it means you stop asking me these questions. 

You could almost hear him laughing at you. 

Trevor:

You like it! 

You snorted and switched messages.

Walton: 

10 am: Hey beautiful, wanted to check in. See how you’re doing this morning. 

11 am: I was wondering about maybe going out to bar a city over next Friday? 

11:10 am: Promise I am not trying to kidnap you.

12:20 pm:  Thought you never slept in?

You:

Hey handsome, sorry I actually slept in. Kept me out past my bedtime.

I would love to go out with you next Friday, fingers crossed they don’t keep us late

You set your phone down, pondering if you still trusted the milk in the fridge to make pancakes. Getting up you get a refill of coffee, phone buzzing. 

Walton: 

If they do we can always go out saturday? Can’t be keeping you up so late. Got make sure you can keep up with this old man. 

You:

Oh I am sure I can keep up with you 😉

Walton:

Careful little lady, I might have to come by and test that theory.

Your face goes bright red and that heat coils low in your belly. 

You: Promises, promises, 

Walton:

If I didn’t have a zoom meeting in ten minutes 😠

You:

Maybe next Friday. 

You’re not sure why you’ve become a tease, but you’re enjoying winding him up. 

Walton:

Monday will be more like it.

You:

😜 Your trailer or mine.

Walton: 

Yours just so Trevor will stop texting me.

You let out a laugh, seemed like Trevor was also enjoying winding him up. You spend the rest of the day chatting with both of them. Sunday is a bit quieter, more zoom calls for Walt and Trevor had gone to Decon’s. 

*** Monday goes by in a blur, Walton keeps his hands to himself when others are around. But it doesn’t stop him from following you behind the food tent to steal kisses. You are now sporting a permanent flush and some of your co-workers are raising eyebrows. You are ever grateful that Trevor has kept his mouth shut. Liz is as pissy as ever but seems to be letting it lay. Katie has slowly warmed up to you again, why you weren’t sure. 

The rest of the week is pretty similar. Early mornings bleed into later evenings, the endless weeks have worn on you. Then Walton slides into your chair with his latest story and you feel like a weight is lifted off of you. The man once more touches you gently and gives you lingering cheek kisses as he goes over to set or costumes.   

Friday night rolls around and it’s going to be a long one. You fiddle with a few of your brushes when the door opens quickly. 

“We are being released. There was a fire on stage, and it looks like we are out at least until Monday,” Liz rolls in looking flustered, her normal perfect facade gone. She looks haggard and frazzled. 

“There was a fire on set?” You ask sitting up and feeling much more awake. Panic shoots down the back of your neck.

“Yep, green sparky left a light on too close to set.” Liz sat in the chair grabbing cleaner. You had stayed in the trailer to start tucking things away as Walton was off-screen for the first three setups. You are out the door before she has time to say more. You stop at costumes knocking at the door. 

Rebeccas opens it and looks down at you, she looks flustered but still has a smile on. “Hey, I am guessing you heard about the fire?”

“Yes, I did,” You say trying not to sound panicked, even though your mind is racing. The thought of him being hurt makes you nauseous. “Umm -is.”

Rebecca looks into the trailer, “Walt. You almost done in there?” There is a bunch of commotion going on in the trailer, with people moving back and forth, and different actors in various stages of undress.

You looked at her puzzled at how she knew you were looking for him. 

Rebecca turns back to you, “He never shuts up about you, so figured that’s why you are here,” She replies, and you immediately feel flustered, clearly rumors are moving again. 

“Oh- umm- Yeah. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Walton pops his head above Rebecca his fingers nimbly button up his shirt. “Be right out.”

You blush and look away, “Sorry, I should probably go.”

Rebeca waved her hand at you, “Your secret is safe with me,” she winked. You wonder not for the first time if you were the only one who was never included in the rumor mill. 

Walton pops down the stairs, and has on grey button-up sleeves rolled up, navy wash jeans. He tilts his head when he looks at you. You let out a sigh seeing him unscathed. 

“You okay?” He asks, his hand touching your shoulder. You nod your head, turning to walk back towards the makeup trailer. You really don’t want to make a scene right now, there were way too many eyes on you both right now. 

“I know I said we should go to the bar tonight,” Walton says, his fingers brushing against yours. You try not to grab his hands, just to know he is still there. “But maybe we should get take out at my place?”

You get to the trailer, unable to stop looking around. He looks right at you, the way he could focus on you was both flattering and unnerving. Especially as you are trying to keep things under wraps. 

“Have to stop and grab a few things first.” You say trying to keep your voice from carrying. “Have you pick me up again?”

He smiles, “I would pick you up any day.”

You are bright red, as you open the door and follow the man into the trailer. 

***

A large paper bag of Chinese food was acquired, along with a couple of bottles of wine. You both devest at the door, slipping off your shoes, and placing the wine on the counter. You watch him move around the kitchen. Practice ease, you watch his muscles move under his shirt. You were tired as anything but being in his kitchen, waiting to eat greasy Chinese food couldn’t have been more perfect. 

You grab plates from him, laying out the smorgasbord board of different food. The two of you scooped a little of everything, before sitting down at the table and pouring some wine. 

“I feel like I should apologize for having you over instead of going out somewhere,” Walton says taking a sip of wine. “I don’t want you to think I am taking advantage of you being here.”

You chuckle, “Don’t know what you mean Mr. Goggins. I thought you invited me to your place to play some chess and listen to swing jazz.”

Walton nearly loses his food at the comment, his hand covering his mouth. “Swing jazz? How old do you think I am?”

“Oh you got to be at least in your seventies,” You tease back taking a bite out of your spring roll. 

Walton coughs, “I didn’t realize you where into grandfathers.”

You choke a little, “Well to be fair,” You wave your hand, “I am usually good with trying anything once.” 

Walton sips on his wine eyebrows raised, “Anything?”

You nod your head, a smile spreading across your face. “Can’t say I don’t like it unless I try it.”

He puts his glass down, watching you carefully as you finish your cup. “I could make some coffee while we clean up.”

You grab his plate stacking it with your own as he grabs the glasses. You two make it over to the kitchen, there is tension in the air as you clean things up. He grabs a French press out of the cupboards aswell as some coffee and cups.

You slide over to the counter and sit on top of it. Feet kicking back and forth as you watch the man ready things.  Flicking the kettle on to heat the water. He comes over and moves himself in between your legs.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He whispers, placing hands on either side of your hips. Face inches from you.

You wrap your hands lazily over his shoulders, opening your legs to let him in closer. 

“No, you haven't today.” You lean in to kiss him, kissing him will never get old.

“You are stunning.” He whispers against your ear. Sending shivers down your spine. The kettle clicks and he's moving away from you. You watch him pour grinds and then water into the press. 

“Why did you wait so long to ask?” You inquire, moving your feet back and forth. Letting yourself briefly wonder if maybe the question was too forward.  

He turned to look at you, bottom lip caught in his teeth. “Umm-”  

Leaving the coffee he came over to you. Cheeks slightly pink, he tucked his hair behind his ear. 

“I - ahh. I didn't think you'd want to go out with me.” 

Your mouth falls open, “Are you serious?”

He shrugs, fingers fiddling with the outer seam of your jeans. You take his hand in yours using the moment to drag him back between your legs. Once he is there, you tip Walton’s head up to look right at you.

“You're so dumb,” You grin leaning in to kiss him. He chuckles and leans into the kiss, strong arms wrapping around you. “I am also dumb, 'cause I thought the same thing about you.”

Walton pulls back looking at you, eyebrows scrunched. “Didn't you just call me dumb? Seems like we both may have missed the sign somewhere along the way.”

You grin one hand finding its way to rub along his jawline. “Took us long enough.”

He smiled, “Trevor is never going to let us live this down.”

You let out a groan, “He is beyond impossible. I am gonna have a small textbook of text messages.”

Walton’s eyes glint, and he pulls his phone out. “Why don't we give him an update.”

You can't help but laugh, “Oh absolutely!” 

Walton flips his phone on turning on the camera he flips it to the two of you. You lean in and kiss him deeply as he clicks the button. The phone is placed on the counter as you wrap your legs around his waist. You pull out a deep moan that rumbles out of his chest when you bite at his bottom lip. It doesn't stop you from pushing your tongue in. Rocking your hips a little, the room feels hot. 

Walton pulls away, breathless, “If you keep doing that, I am liable to forget about our coffee.”

You let out a sigh, “I suppose a little coffee couldn't won't hurt.” You unwrap yourself from him. 

He moves down the counter as you slide off it. He mixes your coffee just the way you like it, handing you the cup as he fixes his own. You wait, watching him work, he turns and gestures toward the living room. You make your way over to the couch.  

Folding yourself up on the end of the sofa, tucking one leg underneath the other. You sip on the coffee, it is delicious and beats any store bought. Walton comes over and sits beside you, taking a long sip of his drink. Looking out the windows you can see part of downtown and the north shore. The lights still dazzling, as the evening wore on. 

“I know, before, I said I wasn’t sure you would want to go out with me,” He said looking out at the window as he spoke. “I tried, unsuccessfully to give you space. But the further I got away the more I missed being near you. Then when we went out for sushi, it all just kinda clicked. This isn’t conventional.” He gestures between the two of you. You hold your cup listening intently. 

“I am, ahh, older than you. And my life is not exactly straightforward. I don’t take relationships lightly, not that this is that. Or.” You can’t suppress the smile as he tries to explain himself. “I am terrible at this. I don’t want to move too fast, but also. I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

You put your cup down, and gesture for him to come closer. He places his cup down beside yours and moves over. Patting your lap, he slips down and lays his head on your lap. You run your hands through his hair, his eyes close and he hums softly against your legs. 

“I can’t tell you what's going to happen,” You say softly, “I am also not good at this, but I am willing to try. However fast or slow you want to go. As for the age thing, I don’t care, it’s never bothered me.” 

Walton’s breath slows and his hand slips under your thigh holding you close. You sit there a while longer, letting him just relax against you. Again you are struck by how simple it is, to just sit here with a warm cup of coffee and the city lights. You could get used to weekends like this. But as always he is moving sitting up and smoothing out his hair, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip. 

“Would you like to come to bed with me?” He asks, you turn away from the lights. His eyes fixed on you, not hungry but curious. 

“I would like that a lot,” You say licking your lips and heart pounding in your chest. 

Walton stands up offering you a hand, which you take, pulling yourself to your feet. The coffee is left on the table as you follow him. Fingers laced together like they are two puzzle pieces. You pass by the guest room and there is a door at the end of the hallway. He opens it and you walk into the large room. There are floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the sea, a large king-sized bed on a wooden platform. The room is sparse, with two side tables with lamps. A large walk-in closet to your left along with a bathroom beside it. You wonder for a moment how often he has brought others back here. The thought lingers in the back of your mind as you wander over to sit on the edge of the bed. Walton has disappeared into the bathroom.

“I think I have another toothbrush in here,” He calls out, poking his head around the corner. 

You smile and move towards him, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

He’s blushing again and handing you the unopened toothbrush, “I–I umm. Just figure I’d offer.” 

You move into the bathroom grabbing some toothpaste off the counter and leaning against it, “I appreciate it, besides don’t want to have coffee breath. Would you happen to have makeup wipes?”

Walton thinks for a moment before he scoots you out of the way, as you brush your teeth. He pops up with a bottle of cleanser and a fresh hand towel. “I knew I had it here somewhere.”

You grin and thank him, he brushes his teeth before disappearing again. You take the moment to clean off your face and neck. Looking into the mirror you got a permanent smile on your face. Letting out a happy sigh you finish up, telling yourself not to put the cart in front of the horses. You walk out and Walton is standing there shirtless, blinds drawn. He slips into a grey cotton t-shirt, that you currently hate, and black sweatpants. Sensing you staring he turns around to see you. 

Chapter seven

*tiny cliffhanger. I always need at least one 😜*

*As always if you'd like to be tagged let me know! *

*reblogs, likes, and comments appreciated! *

#walton goggins #wallton goggins x reader #x reader #fan fiction #fantasy #fluff #fanfic #writing #angst #hurt comfort #au #alternate universe #older man x younger women

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2024.05.18

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. i can fix him (no really i can) by @draqo-pctter [E, 1k]

►It was a Friday morning when Malfoy once again hit the front pages of the Daily Prophet beneath the headline Malfoy Arrested in Muggle London. Harry watched the picture of Malfoy walking down the front steps of the London Police Department, clad in a velvet green suit and smiling for Skeeter’s camera man as if he’d just won the lottery, until his eyes lost focus.

2. One kiss by Cactusbrother [T, 1k]

►After one month, Harry and Draco return to where their friendship started and finally kiss.

---

Fest/Exchange

1. End of Beginnings by Anonymous[E, 5k]  *typo

►As Harry and Draco start developing a relationship, Harry finds himself drawn back to the Potter house in Godric's Hollow, where his parents appear to be living just as they were on the day they died. ★ Lights Camera Drarry 2024 | @lcdrarry

2. The Heart of the Heart by Anonymous [T, 52k]

►Harry Potter’s comfortable boring routine comes crumbling down when he takes the wrong shortcut at the wrong time; he almost ends up in a brawl, gets rescued by a handsome stranger, successfully escapes sentient tar, learns to walk on air and then becomes victim to a spiteful, petty and undeserved ageing curse - and all that within a single afternoon! Now transformed into an old man, Harry decides to run away in search of a way to reverse the spell, but the path is precarious and the journey long. [...] ★ Lights Camera Drarry 2024 | @lcdrarry

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #daily list #2024 #2024.05

[chrishoughton]

hi chris its been like 2 years since my big city greens hyperfixation and i decided to go back on tumblr because twitter sucks

I honestly miss the days where I sat there in my room, binge watching the shows again and again, mentioning it to my friends every 2 minutes and always getting excited when i see terry and alexander (cuz being gay and a teen was hard)

seeing your tumblr against was a blast of nostalgia, i would constantly scroll through this page and waiting for more updates...

big city greens had a huge positive impact on my teenage life and i love the show a lot, you and shane are awesome (and thanks for creating alexander and terry)

Aw man, what a sweet message. I haven't been posting on Tumblr as much these days but I'm glad to hear the old posts still have some value. I'm thrilled to hear you've enjoyed BCG- thank you!

[saphronethaleph]

Visiting Time

The front door opened with a crash.

“Sonic!” a voice shouted. “You’re not getting away this time!”

Tails lifted his welding mask, and turned off the torch. Then he hopped out of his garage, and into the main living area of their house.

“Hi, Silver,” he said.

“Tails!” Silver replied, waving. “Great to see you again. Where’s Sonic? I’m here to pay him back for what he did!”

“He’s out at the moment, not sure where,” Tails replied, shrugging. “What did he do, exactly? There’s a lot of stuff it could be…”

“You mean he’s been doing a lot of stuff he needs to pay for?” Silver asked, going over to one of the sofas and sitting down.

Tails shrugged. “No, not really, but he’s done a lot of stuff, and a lot of that could get misinterpreted! That’s the way it usually works, like with the Iblis Trigger or when Shadow got mistaken for him.”

Silver frowned. “Iblis Trigger?”

“I don’t actually know myself, but my research turned up a note from myself!” Tails replied. “It was back last time we broke time… no, maybe the time before last time?”

He scratched his head, then shook it. “Anyway, Sonic isn’t the Iblis Trigger, I’m supposed to tell you that. How’s the future, by the way?”

“You know, same old, same old,” Silver said. “Hey, can I get a mug of cocoa?”

Tails blurred into the kitchen and began mixing some up. “So… post apocalypse?”

“That’s same old, same old, for you,” Silver concurred readily. “This time I guess it’s global warming?”

“Huh,” Tails frowned. “I was pretty sure my Ring Energy Generators would prevent that, by using clean energy instead of fossil fuels. Any specifics?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing to do with fossil fuels,” Silver shrugged. “When I said warming, I meant literally. Volcanic eruptions and lava and stuff.”

“Oh!” Tails said. “I guess we might need to talk to Chip and see if he knows what’s going on… so what do you think Sonic has done, exactly?”

Silver floated over the cocoa and took a sip. “Man, you’re good at that… anyway, he built a giant robot and was using it to attack people.”

Tails gave him a perplexed look.

“Okay, look,” Silver began. “I know that realistically speaking it was probably actually Eggman who did it. But you know Sonic, the best way to get him to help out is to challenge him to a battle and then work from there.”

“I have trouble arguing with that,” Tails said, flicking both his tails, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, hold on a minute! I have something I’ve been working on to try and help with this kind of thing!”

He scampered off into his workshop, and Silver shrugged before drinking some cocoa.

A minute or so later, Tails came back with an odd-looking contraption.

“This is a recent project!” Tails explained, flicking some switches, and a little generator thingummy began to spin faster and faster with an ascending whiiiiir sound. “Aaand… there we go!”

Silver leaned in to see what was going on.

“...so, what does it do, exactly?” he asked.

“It detects inconsistencies in the fabric of space and time!” Tails explained, both his namesake tails flicking back and forth. “I got the idea after Sonic told me about this one time where I never met him and I ended up making myself cyborg tails. And this other time where I was a pirate. And, well, all the other times we’ve messed with that kind of thing… anyway, it detects where parallel lines of time are resonating with our own timeline, and identifies the points where our own history is being driven off course, because a different world is leaking into our own through a micro-hole to a universe only a few picometres in the ana or kata direction.”

Silver frowned.

“I’m not exactly an expert on temporal mechanics, but that sounds extremely specific,” he said. “How could you possibly identify those?”

“Well, it was easy enough once I had a big enough sample set,” Tails shrugged. “Which took about a month. Anyway, uh… okay… there we go!”

He pointed to the screen. “See here? Your personal timeline intersects with Sonic’s timeline in about a week, and you’re carrying one of the Chaos Emeralds at the time. The… yellow one, I think.”

Silver rummaged in his quills, and brought out a blue Chaos Emerald. “The blue one, actually.”

“That must be it!” Tails declared. “You need to bring the yellow one instead, because otherwise you and Sonic are going to be trying to go Super with two blue Emeralds and no yellow one. Once you’ve done that, that should fix the timeline until the next time it breaks.”

“Huh,” Silver mused, draining the last of his cocoa. “I guess that makes sense… I’d better go and find the yellow one instead. And work out what to do with the few weeks I’ll get to enjoy being in a non post apocalypse.”

Tails gave him a thumbs-up. “No problem! This just shows the value of my P.L.O.T. hole detector!”

#miles tails prower #silver the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #time travel #bad puns

[joelsleftknee]

Part 2

pairing: Joel Miller!Reader | post-outbreak/ jackson era

WC: 2.6k

multiple part series: series masterlist

- part 1

content warnings: canon divergent obvi cause joel doesn't go golfing in this one, ANGST ANGST ANGST (literally wrote this cause there's not enough agnst to read out there), age gap, reader has hair and is shorter than Joel but no physical descriptions other than that, cute winter romance, bookworm reader, eventual fluff, eventual hurt/comfort.

(a/n): part 2 is here!!! thank you so much for reading! this is my first time writing here, so sorry if my formatting is kinda mid lol.

tags: @macaroni676 !!! :)

Joel half-heartedly untied the shoelaces of his leather boots before climbing the stairs to his room and getting in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin as the cold slowly seeped off his bones.

He spent all morning out on patrol with Harry, a twenty-something-year-old kid who’d joined Jackson just over a year ago. He had married one of the girls in town. Young and very pregnant, she had some coffee ready for both Harry and Joel before they headed out the gates.

As he sipped the hot drink, Joel couldn’t help the pathetic stab of jealousy that had him furrowing his eyebrows at the kiss on the cheek Harry received from his wife.

Harry had been in Jackson for such a short time, yet he had managed to build a life that seemed to make the damn Apocalypse worth living.

As for Joel… He tried to count his blessings. He really did.

He had Ellie, whom he loved more than anything. He had Tommy, and even Maria, who had become something like a sister to him.

But Ellie was building a life of her own, having recently moved into the garage and spending almost every day with Dina. And Tommy and Maria had each other.

Joel threw his arm over his brow, trying to block the shaft of sunlight that made it through the fraying curtains of his bedroom window.

Perhaps sleep would keep his mind off the pitiful downward spiral he was setting on. So he closed his eyes, lips parting with an exhale as he filtered off his thoughts. Exhaustion helped, and soon he was drifting off into an easy, weightless nap.

Joel’s rest was short-lived. Outside, excited squeals and laughter woke him about an hour later.

He grumbled against his pillow, pushing himself up on his elbows to try to blink away the sleep. He padded to the window, peering through the curtains.

It had snowed. In the past hour, Jackson had been covered in a thick blanket of freezing white. Now townspeople of all ages ran around making crumbling snowmen and snow angels. He spotted a couple of simultaneous snowball fights. If you could call the fluffy blobs snowballs at all.

He was scanning the crowd gathered downstairs all over the street, looking for Tommy.

Instead, he found you.

You were wrapped in a thick coat, head falling back in laughter as you watched Maria hurl a handful of snow at an oblivious Tommy, who turned around in shock, flakes clinging to his hair.

Joel closed the curtain, eyes catching on the books on his bedside table. The one you’d picked out for him a couple of days ago. And then two more—ones he’d found on patrol this morning.

He didn’t recognize the titles, but they seemed to be in pretty good condition. He’d initially planned to save them for later—a last resort excuse to go see you again. Still, he had scolded himself for even thinking that as he rode his horse back into the perimeters of Jackson this morning, lost in thought while Harry rambled about something beside him.

You were so young. And so beautiful. And so joyful and bright, that he felt that he was doing you a disservice by even staring at you for too long.

He was fifty-two years old, for goodness’ sake. Ancient in comparison. He was no better than a dirty old man. In fact, he was a dirty old man.

The realization hit him like a brick to the back of the head. He grabbed the books he’d found and stuffed them inside the squeaky bedside table drawer, slamming it close before darting downstairs. He pulled on his boots and his jacket, zipping it up to his chin.

Closing the door behind him, he stepped out onto a veritable winter wonderland.

“Joel!”

He turned his head to find Ellie jogging toward him, pulling a red-nosed Dina by the hand.

“Hey, kiddo,” Joel said, offering Dina a nod and a smile.

“Joel, you need to come to the hot and cocoa board game night,” Ellie started. “It’s tonight.”

Joel blinked, his gaze—unwittingly, of course—focusing behind Ellie and on the unnecessarily thick bright red winter coat you were wearing, still laughing beside Tommy and Maria.

Ellie waved a frantic hand in front of your face. “You listening to me?”

Your eyes met Joel’s. His heart jumped before he immediately looked back at Ellie, whose eyebrows were raised in amusement.

Joel missed the smile you flashed him.

“Did you fall off your horse this morning or what?” asked Ellie. “Tipsy Bison. Tonight. Hot cocoa. A game of Dutch Blitz. Get ready to be destroyed.”

Joel ran a hand over his face, fighting the urge to check whether you were still looking at him. “What time is this? You know I’m too old for these things.”

“Oh I know, you’re, like, a hundred years old,” Ellie said, earning a laugh from Dina, who added, in a stage whisper, “There’s also gonna be booze. Main reason I’m going.”

Joel scoffed, suddenly liking Dina more than he already did. “That might do it.” He pinched Ellie’s nose, who wrenched off his grip with a dramatic sneeze. “I’ll be there. But don’t expect me to be there all night.”

Ellie looked more than pleased. “I would never. You’ll have to go home and cry when I crush you at every game, anyway.”

Joel only shook his head, amused, as he watched Ellie drag Dina away.

Left standing at his front door, Joel’s heart almost stopped when he saw you walking up the couple of steps of his porch.

“Hey Joel,” you said, snowflakes clinging to your hair, catching the sunlight in an angelic aura.

“Hey,” Joel breathed, heart hammering inside his chest. “It snowed.”

What a stupid thing to say.

But you still smiled, chuckling as you said, “It did indeed. I actually came over because I heard from Harry that you found books on patrol today.” You looked at him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I did.” Joel half-turned to go back into his house. “I can get them for you right now.”

You raised both hands, stopping him. “No need! You can bring them to me another time. I don’t want to expose them to the snow.” You gestured around you just as a shiver in response to the low temperature took over your body. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you smiled at Joel, and he thought it shined as bright as the ball of fire that is the sun when it rises every morning.

“I just wanted to thank you,” you continued, “for taking the time to find the books.”

Joel wanted to do a lot of things in that moment. Things like running his fingertips, calloused from years of playing the guitar, down your soft cheek. Things like running his thumb across your plump bottom lip, tantalizing him like forbidden fruit.

Instead, he nodded with an “It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” And before he could stop himself, he asked, “Are you going to the board game night tonight? With the hot cocoa.”

Joel gulped as your eyes widened. He had no business asking you, he realized. Would you catch on to his sorry crush on you? Could he play it off as just friendly fellow townspeople behavior?

“I’m planning to, hopefully,” you said. “Are you?”

Warmth spread in his core at the question, and his cheeks reddened in shame at the realization that he was so lonely that something so simple like this exchange could make his heart race.

“Ellie sort of bullied me into it,” he admitted with a nervous laugh. But suddenly energized by the prospect of getting to see you again, he added, “Though I figure it should be fun. Just somethin’ to do in this weather.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Tell me about it. I’ve been cooped up in the library the past few days, trying to organize things and restore some books. So I could really use a night off.”

Joel wished he could somehow get all your work done for you. Even though he had not one damn clue of what restoring a book entailed.

But you were too sweet and too soft to be stressed, he thought.

“Well, I’ll see you later Joel,” you said, bringing him back to earth. “And don’t hesitate to bring any clothes to me that mind need fixing, yeah?”

He nodded, recalling your deal. “I’ll see you later,” he said, unable to stop the timid smile stretching across his lips as he waved goodbye.

He watched you return to where you’d been standing, coming back to Maria’s side. Maria, who shot Joel a knowing smirk from across the street.

Not having even left the porch, Joel turned back inside, deciding he had had enough of the cold wind today. And, above all, wishing to hide from any eyes that could pick up on the slight trembling of his hands and the permanent red in his cheeks when he talked to you.

He was acting like a schoolboy. At the grown age of fifty-two. But he couldn’t help it.

Back in his room, Joel climbed in bed once more, in more age-appropriate fashion, shooting for a second nap to stop his mind from reeling through the hours until he saw you again tonight.

“Goodness,” you signed, resting your forehead on the pile of books on your desk that you were trying to classify.

After the snow craze had died down and everyone had gone back inside to their respective daily tasks, you came into the library to meticulously clean and dust off books.

Naturally, you’d been sneezing nonstop for the past hour, nose irritated from blowing it every other minute.

A box sat on the ground by your feet, containing many more books that the townspeople had donated, found all over their homes, tomes long forgotten through the outbreak. You had to go through those still.

You just wanted to be done.

The thing was, you loved your job. You had dreamed of working at a library, of living among books, before the outbreak even happened. It is nothing short of a miracle that you got to pursue your dream even after the world went to hell.

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve gotten maybe a collective eight hours of sleep over the past three days. Maria keeps telling you to slow down, to take your time, and rest.

But you want this thing to work. And you’re going to work yourself to the ground if that’s what it takes. You’re hoping for a grand opening, even if the library and its books are already open and available to the public. You want to host a special event, nurture some enthusiasm for reading. Make it look cool.

You’ve had a few visitors ever since you opened the doors to your half-finished project last week. But with the weather and all, many prefer to stay inside instead of exploring what’s new in town. And you’ve pointedly asked Maria to not announce that the library’s open yet. Because you want that grand opening to be people’s first impression.

So here you were, at 10:57 pm, still paging through books, stacking tomes, and sneezing your brains out.

You wiped from your eyes the tears triggered by your allergies. Much to your dismay, you were already late to the board game night. You debated showing up anyway, but decided there was no point.

The reason you were going to begin with would probably be gone by them.

Joel Miller.

Tommy’s impossibly handsome, endearingly quiet older brother. One of your first visitors to the library. And someone you had been stealing glances at since the first time you saw him, almost a year ago, after your arrival at Jackson.

His hardened exterior and just the sheer size of him managed to draw everyone’s eye. You were well aware of all the other women in the commune who drooled over him, entrapped by the alluring danger that emanated off of him like a challenge.

But to you, he wasn’t dangerous. Sure, he was dangerous in the sense that he looked like he could kill any man in a matter of seconds. And in the sense that you’d heard of all his patrolling prowess. And of his many years of survival prior to his arrival to Jackson, the stories passed around like legends through town gossip.

But you knew there was more to him than that. Way more.

And you’ll be damned, but you wanted to know everything about him.

You were smart enough to know that you had plenty of competition. Because Joel was handsome beyond reason.

His rough features that softened when he smiled. The salt and pepper beard that made you go week on the knees when you saw him walking around town. His broad chest and shoulders—and the flannels that hugged him perfectly, so perfectly it was almost lewd.

You blew out a mouthful of air, snapping yourself back to the pile of work before you. You had no business thinking of Joel Miller this way.

He was beyond your reach. Mature. Experienced. Serious and reserved.

Much older. Old enough to be your father.

The realization had you closing your eyes and leaning back in your chair. There must have been something wrong with you because the thought made a desperate wave of warmth spread low in your stomach.

You had half the thought to put on the tight, long-sleeved shirt you had bartered for recently—funny enough, with the pathetic intention of catching Joel’s eye—and pulling up to the Tipsy Bison, down some liquid courage, and challenge him to a round of poker or something.

But you knew better.

You knew you would chicken out halfway through. And you knew there was no way Joel was still there. He had better things to do, you were sure. So even if he showed up to make Ellie happy and appease Maria, you doubted the hot cocoa and game cards would be enough to keep him for long.

Resigned, you returned to your books, pushing the image of Joel and his quiet smile away from your mind.

Joel left the Tipsy Bison at midnight. When the clock hit 12:01 am, he stood up from the table he’d been sharing with Ellie, Tommy, Maria, and Dina.

He had arrived early to the event. Both to have enough time to ease his nerves with the booze he disguised by pouring it in a mug and also just in case you’d arrive early, too. He sat facing the front door, and he watched it all night, waiting for you to walk through.

His heart raced every time a gust of freezing wind flowed into the room when someone walked in, expecting it to be you.

It was never you. And he felt like the biggest idiot in the world for having spent the entire night disappointed by your absence.

His mind couldn’t help but start making up reasons as to why you weren’t here. Maybe you took a nap and slept through the game night. Or maybe something had happened to you. What if you didn’t go because you knew he would be there, and you didn’t want to see him?

He had the brain to stop himself from wallowing into further dramatics lest he drive himself insane, but he could not help the false hope that popped like a balloon every time that door opened and it wasn’t you who walked in.

He waited. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d spent socializing for so many consecutive hours, but he was grateful that the people he loved made it more bearable.

He won enough rounds of Dutch Blitz to secure at least a month of immunity from Ellie’s teasing, and he managed to wipe off the sad puppy look off his face for most of the night.

He had no reason to be disappointed, he told himself. It wasn’t like you owed him your presence. He’d just met you, for goodness’ sake.

That still didn’t erase the pang in his chest as he walked back to his house after offering some help with the post-event cleanup and sharing a cup of hot cocoa that Ellie convinced him to drink.

He had brushed his hair and put on the cleanest, most presentable flannel he owned. He even groomed his beard and put on some cologne that Ellie had gifted him when he turned fifty-two.

He’d felt silly watching himself in the mirror, knowing no nice clothes and no amount of cologne could change the truth of his age. Or erase the reality of how undeserving he was of a sweet light like you.

Still, he figured that, even after so many years of pain and grief, an ember of hope lived within him, fanned by the past two years of living peacefully in Jackson.

So he had hoped to see you tonight, hoped to indulge in the knowledge that there still was beauty in the world, and that you were the clearest evidence of that.

With snow crunching under his boots and his shoulders slightly slumped in defeat, Joel went home.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #jackson joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller fanfiction #touch starved joel miller #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal characters

[ryin-silverfish]

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries, Part 1

I grew up watching the Lotus Lantern TV shows, both of which have a special place in my heart. However, this particular tale is kinda one that thrives in operas and modern media adaptations, while the written texts of the story remain mostly out of reach for average audiences, being compiled in an 1957 book named 董永沉香合集.

As such, I've decided to make an informal summary of all versions of Chenxiang's stories from this particular book and maybe some more, for anyone wanting to learn about Lotus Lantern beyond the TV show.

This series is a WIP; each post features the summary of a single version of the legend. For Part 1, it will be——

Chenxiang Baojuan("The Precious Scroll of Chenxiang",1847/1907)

-This story took place in the Han dynasty. Son of a rich landlord, the scholar Liu Xiang(刘向) was on his way to the imperial examination (which didn't exist in the Han dynasty, but okay), and decided to stop at the temple of the Lady of Mt. Hua(华岳娘娘) for prayers.

-However, she was attending a party in the Celestial Realm, and her attendants——ghostly judges and pawns——didn't know how to answer when Liu asked if he'd succeed in the imperial examination, so they just threw him a blank wooden slip (used in divinations).

-Feeling cheated, the scholar angrily swept open the curtain covering the goddess's idol, and was instantly charmed by her beauty, so much so that he wrote a poem on the walls asking for her hands in marriage.

-As King Zhou's story in FSYY has told us, this was a very bad idea. The Lady of Mt. Hua was not amused upon her return, and went after the scholar with a sword in hand, but was also instantly charmed by his good looks.

-After a quick confirmation from the Old Man Under the Moon(月下老人) that their relationship was, in fact, Fated to Be, she used her magic to create a beautiful mansion, then, a huge storm, to force Liu to seek shelter there.

-She proposed to him inside the mansion, and Liu Xiang was like “I'd love to, but I gotta go to my exams and take care of my parents back home, so…later?”

-The Lady took it with characteristic grace, by which I mean she kicked him out of the mansion, then sicc demonic tigers and snakes on him and forced him to come back.

-Anyways, they married each other, and the Lady gave him three treasures as tribute to the ruling emperor: a luminous pearl, a pearl belt, and a crystal bowl, before sending him on his way to the imperial examination.

-Unfortunately for Liu, a corrupt minister saw those treasures and wanted to take them for himself, so he falsely accused Liu of stealing and threw him into prison.

-Just when Liu was about to be executed, his divine wife saved him again by whipping up a storm; Liu cleared his name in front of the emperor, and all was well…but not for long. 

-The brother of the Lady of Mt. Hua is a guy called True Sage Xuanmiao(玄妙真君), but later, the text also referred to him as Erlang Shen.

-While at the Peach Festival, he teased He Xian'gu(何仙姑), one of the Eight Immortals, about her (nonexistent) husband, and she mocked back: "Well I don't have a husband, but your sister sure does! That's why she isn't at the party."  

-Xuanmiao got really mad, rushed home to fight his pregnant sister, and sealed her under Mt. Hua. She gave birth while imprisoned, and sent Chenxiang to his father via a ghostly official/Yaksha. 

-After learning about his mother's imprisonment, 12 years old Chenxiang left to pursue studies of the Taoist arts. He met the Gold Star of Venus, who led him to some divine pills and peaches that granted him superpowers. That wasn't quite enough, however, and when he went to fight Erlang, he was soon losing and being chased around.

-Luckily for Chenxiang, the White Crane Boy(白鹤童子), a divine messenger, was passing by and helped him get reinforcements; the "Eight Cave of Immortals, the Great Immortal of Penglai, the Mystic Lady of the Nine Heavens, Fourth Sister of the Hundred-Flowers"（八洞仙人、蓬莱大仙、九天玄女、百花四姐）. In return, the True Sage summoned legions of celestial soldiers, Sir Thunder and Lady Lightning(雷公电母), and the Four Heavenly Generals (Ma, Wen, Zhao, Guan, not to be confused with the 4 devarajas).

-The battle became so heated that it alerted Guanyin, who went and informed the Jade Emperor, causing him to send the Gold Star of Venus down there and order both sides to quit fighting. With that taken care of, Chenxiang cleaved open the mountain and saved his mom, but the imprisonment had done a number on her: her form was skeletal, her hair was a mess, her gaze was unfocused, and she was more or less catatonic.

-It would be really depressing if the story ended here, so the Mystic Lady of the Nine Heavens gave her a magical pill that returned her to full health, and the family went on to enjoy their happy ending.

#Lotus Lantern #erlang shen #liu chenxiang #sansheng mu #chinese folklore #summary #chinese folk religion #reference