#pole documentary

[thisaintourhome]

the great white silence (1924)

directed by herbert g. ponting

[viktorarcanedeservesbetter]

Taskmaster Meme/Tier Dump

[waywardvagabonds]

I am experiencing entirely too many emotions at once right now and it is literally making my head hurt.

[pulquedeguayaba]

Watching the Amundsen movie and it's not as bad as letterboxd made me believe.

I do have to say that making a biopic of someone who had an extraordinary life in nature can be difficult, and it's more drama/inner life focused than action and I think it adds depth but lacks in spectacle? He's a difficult man even for this.

Also why are men named Sverre always playing him?

[identifying-f1-in-posts]

[1] 26th November 2023 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

[2] 6th October 2023 Qatar Grand Prix Post-qualifying

[3] 20th October 2022 United States Grand Prix

[4] 6th May 2022 Miami Grand Prix Friday Practice

[5] 25th May 2024 Monaco Grand Prix Qualifying

[6] 4th April 2010 Malaysian Grand Prix Podium

[7] 2023 Singapore Grand Prix*

[8] 2003 at a Sponsored Week Holiday for Ferrari

[9] 1st December 2023 Contract Extension Announcement

[10] 23rd February 2024 Bahrain Testing

*My best guess

FORMULA SKIPPY

skippys list x f1

(part I) (part II)

[arthurwilde]

Everyone should watch the Terror because it's a masterpiece on a million different levels but you should be aware of what it will do to you. I just watched an hourlong history channel documentary about a dude who tried to go to the North Pole on a submarine in 1931 and I was riveted. I read a 400 page book about the Franklin Expedition this summer and I thumbed through pictures of the Shackleton Expedition and was absolutely amped when the Endurance was found. I'm almost certainly going to cave and buy a rare Canadian map detailing the route of the rescue efforts to find the Franklin Expedition. This is who I am now. It happened to me and it will happen to you

[incognit0slut]

Just honestly anything with husband/dad!reid

(Fluff, Sexual innuendo) Dad!Spencer x Mom!Reader. 1.1k

You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.

-

The resemblance was uncanny. You'd like to think that after nine months of carrying your child, he would at least look a little something like you. Sure, there were your eyes, and Spencer never failed to mention his adorable nose resembled yours. Yet beyond those traits, he was undeniably your husband's little doppelganger.

You watched in awe as they nestled together on the couch, engrossed in one of Spencer’s documentaries. Though you knew you’d seen it before, your attention wasn’t fixated on the TV screen, but on the sight before you.

How could they look so much alike?

It wasn’t just the matching mop of curly brown hair or the glasses resting on their noses; it was their shared mannerisms that truly struck you. From the focused furrow of their brows to the way they leaned in attentively, it was as if Oliver was a miniature version of his father.

You saw Spencer leaning forward, gesturing toward the screen. "See, magnets have north and south poles, and opposite poles attract each other while like poles repel. It's all about the magnetic field they create."

"Opposites attract?"

"Opposite poles, like north and south, pull towards each other," Spencer explained, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "While poles that are the same, like two norths or two souths, push away. It's all because of the magnetic field they generate."

Oliver nodded eagerly, taking in the information. "So, it's like they're drawn to each other because they're different?"

"Exactly," Spencer agreed, giving Oliver a proud smile. "Just like how sometimes, people with different personalities or interests can be drawn to each other because they complement each other."

"Like you and mom?"

Your husband smiled. "What makes you say that?"

Oliver shrugged. "Well, you like books and learning things, and Mom loves art and cooking. You're different, but you're together."

Spencer chuckled. "You know, you're absolutely right. Your mom and I might be different, but we complement each other very well."

"Are you guys talking about me?"

The two of them whipped their heads as they saw you enter the room.

"Mom!" Oliver cheered, jumping off the couch to tackle you with a hug, wrapping his small arms around your legs. You laughed as his embrace nearly knocked you off balance, returning his hug with warmth.

“Hey there, buddy.”

"You’re back,” Spencer greeted from the couch. "How was girls day out?"

"Amazing, Aunt Penelope took me to the spa," you replied. "It was so relaxing, very therapeutic... until I realized how much I missed you both."

Spencer's smile widened at your words. "We missed you too.”

“What’s therapeutic?”

Spencer turned to Oliver, his smile growing as he considered how to explain. “Well, therapeutic is when something makes you feel calm and relaxed, like the spa did for Mom.”

Oliver nodded, absorbing his words with interest. “So, like when I play with my Legos and it makes me feel happy?”

You grinned, ruffling Oliver’s hair affectionately. “That’s right, doing things you enjoy can be very therapeutic for your mind and body.”

Your son, who was still clinging to your legs, looked up with bright eyes. "Can we have a movie night now that you’re back? I think it can be therapeutic.”

You chuckled at Oliver’s suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sweet innocence.

“A cozy movie night with my two favorite guys? Now that’s what I call therapeutic,” you replied, giving his head another gentle ruffle. “But first, why don't you put these in the kitchen?"

His eyes widened with curiosity as he peered at the plastic bag in your hand. "What's in there?"

You grinned, holding up the bag for him to see. "Some snacks Aunt Penelope packed for us. Why don't you take them to the kitchen while Dad and I set up the movie?"

Oliver's face lit up with excitement as he eagerly took the bag from you. "Sure thing, Mom!" he exclaimed before dashing off to the kitchen.

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "His enthusiasm is contagious."

You nodded in agreement as you walked over to him. "I wonder where he got that from."

Spencer grinned playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist as you joined him on the couch. "Hmm, I wonder."

"That boy resembles you more each day."

Spencer’s grin widened at your observation, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. “I suppose he’s taking after his old man.”

“He definitely has your enthusiasm and curiosity,” you remarked, your gaze drifting fondly toward Oliver as he bustled about in the kitchen.

“And your appetite for food, it seems,” he added, nodding towards the snacks Oliver had eagerly pulled out from the bag.

You laughed, the warmth of his embrace filling you with a sense of contentment. “He’s got good taste,” you quipped, leaning in for a kiss. "Ask me what else I did today."

"What else did you do today?" Spencer asked with a playful grin, his arm still around your waist as he pulled you closer before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet, innocent kiss.

You smiled against his lips, savoring the tender moment before pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "Well," you began, your voice soft, "I booked a wax appointment."

His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of mild surprise. "Oh?"

"Yep, do you wanna see it later?" Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly and you chuckled. All these years of marriage and he still managed to get flustered whenever you tease him. “Aw, look at you blushing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“It’s adorable,” you teased, giving his cheek a playful pinch before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his nose.

He sighed dramatically, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his mock annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of affection for your husband. “And you’re lucky you married me,” you retorted. “So, what do you say to a nice, warm bubble bath and one of my awesome massages with a happy ending?”

“You know I can’t say no to that.” His gaze then fell to the length of your body. “Do I get a preview now?”

Your head fell back as you laughed. “Spencer Reid, your kid is in the next room.”

“Our kid,” he corrected gently.

"Dad!" Your son's voice suddenly echoed through the house. "I can't reach the plates!"

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly as he realized your son was within earshot, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze flickering to you with a sheepish smile.

You shared a knowing look with him before turning your attention to Oliver. “I’ll help you out, sweetie,” you called back, already moving towards the kitchen.

Spencer followed close behind, his arm wrapping around your waist. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

You shook your head in amusement. Parenthood certainly had a way of interrupting even the most romantic of moments, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/n: i’m sorry this is bad i wrote this half-conscious (i’m sick)

[teaboot]

How do Canadian schools teach about indigenous Canadian history and culture? -a curious USAmerican

In my experience we learned about colonization at the same time as we learned about the formation of Canada. At first it was "European settlers came and pushed out the indigenous population", then in the higher grades we learned more about the how and the why.

For example, how carts full of men with rifles would ride around shooting Buffalo, then leaving the meat on the ground to rot, because "a dead Buffalo is a dead indian", which was so fanatical it almost wiped out wild Buffalo entirely

Also how Canadian settlers were lured in with beautiful hand-painted advertisements for cheap, beautiful, fertile land that was unpopulated and perfect, if only you'd sail over with your entire family and a pocket full of seeds- only to be met with scared, confused, and angry lawful inhabitants already run out of ten other places, and frigid winters, and rocky, forested, undeveloped dirt.

also, smallpox blankets, where "gifts" of blankets infected with smallpox were intentionally given out

And treaty violations- Either ignoring written agreements entirely, or buying them out at insanely low prices and lying about the value, or trading for farming equipment that they couldn't use because they weren't farmers.

Then in the first world war, where they told indigenous peoples here that they'd be granted Canadian citizenship if they enlisted

To Residential schools, which was straight up stealing kids for slavery, indoctrination, and medical experiments

But we also covered the building of the Canadian Railway in which Chinese immigrants were lowered into ravines with dynamite to blow out paths through the mountain for pennies on the dollar

And the Alberta Sterilization Act, where it was lawful and routine procedure to sterilize women of colour and neurodivergent people without their awareness or consent after giving birth or undergoing unrelated surgeries

But I'm rambling.

We kind of learned Aboriginal history at the same time as everything else? Like. This is when Canada was made, and this is how it was done. Now we'll read a book about someone who lived through it, and we'll write a book report. And now a documentary, and now a paper about the documentary. Onto the next unit.

And starting I think in grade 10 our English track was split between English and Aboriginals English, where you could choose to do the standard curriculum or do the same basic knowledge stuff with a focus on Aboriginal perspectives and literature. (I did that one, we read Three Day's Road and Diary Of A Part-Time Indian, and a few other titles I don't remember.)

There was also a lunch room for the Aboriginal Culture Studies where Aboriginal kids could hang out at lunch time if they wanted, full of art and projects and stuff. They'd play music or videos sometimes, that was cool

And one elective I took (not mandatory cirriculum) was a Kwakiutl course for basic Kwakwakaʼwakw language. Greetings, counting to a hundred, learning the modified alphabet, animals, etc. Still comes in handy sometimes at large gatherings cause they usually start with a land recognition thanking whoever's land we're on, with a few thanks and welcomes in their language.

And like- when I was in the US it was so weird, cause here we have Totem poles and longhouses and murals all over and yall... don't? Like there is a very distinct lack of Aboriginal art in your public spaces, at least in the areas I've been

My ex-stepfather, who was American, brought his son out once, and he was so excited to "see real indians" and was legitimately shocked to learn that there weren't many teepees to be found on the northwest coast, and was even *more* shocked when we told him that you have Aboriginal people back home too, bud. Your Aboriginal people are also named "Mike" snd "Vicky" and work as assistant manager at best buy.

If you'd ask me, I'd say that the primary difference is that USAmerica (from what I've seen, and ALSO in entirely too much of Canada) treats our European and Aboriginal conflicts as history, something that's tragic but over, like the extinction of the mammoths, instead of like. An ongoing thing involving people who are alive and numerous and right fucking here

But at the end of the day, I'm white, and there are plenty of actual Aboriginal people who are speaking out and saying much more meaningful things than I can

So I'm just gonna pass on a quote from my Stepmum, who's Cree, that's stuck with me since she said it:

"You see how they treat Mexicans in America? That's how they treat us here. Indians are the Mexicans of Canada."

[ssentimentals]

hi again nini! it's me who requested the fluff prompt 31 (i didn't know that it's unavailable ><). please do vernon with fluff prompt 34 if it is still available. tysm againnnn 🩷

hi-hi! no worries! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'give.me.the.remote.'

'i am not watching another documentary on polar bears.' you cross your hands on your chest, glaring at your boyfriend. 'or anything that belongs to natgeo, for that matter.'

vernon fakes a gasp: 'do you hate animals?'

'i don't-' you start but then notice how he barely holds it together and sigh, realizing that he's messing with you. 'vernon. i swear to god, you and your obsession with animal docs- why hasn't this been mentioned when we just were getting to know each other, huh? i might have reconsidered my decision on saying yes.'

this time gasp that vernon lets out is dramatic and not fake at all. clutching at his chest, he stares at you with wide eyes: 'i should've known. i should've known that something is up with you, no one can be this perfect and now i see what's wrong.'

your lips twitch with a smile but you hold it back; dating vernon means being used to this antics and also means having time of your life with this hilarious back and forth between you two all the time. pretending to gag from what he said, you reach out to him: 'give me the remote. we are watching 'love is blind' and that's final.'

vernon clutches said remote to his chest: 'see, this is where you're not perfect. choosing 'love is blind' over an emotional storyline with many plot twists of penguins crossing the north pole is sick. actually sick.'

you're gonna bang his head on the wall. or maybe kiss him for being so sweet and funny. you're not sure yet. 'give.me.the.remote.'

vernon's eyes twinkle. 'come and get it.'

it ends with you two laughing loudly, laying on the sofa with vernon almost falling off, teetering on the edge. it ends in flurry of kisses and hugs, his arms around your waist. it ends with tv playing 'love is blind' and vernon's lips locked with yours, tv remote somewhere on the floor, long forgotten. it ends with you two not even watching tv, not at all, too wrapped up into each other to care.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[lostintransist]

This Bunny Bites | Part 15

Part 1 | AO3

You had popped home to get yourself ready. A cute matching set under a pair of gray sweatpants you stole from one ex and a band hoodie you kept from another ex and you were ready to grab everything else. A pair of ballroom heels, an aux cord that would connect to your phone, and the CBD lotion all got tossed in your bag. The case of sports drink you had snagged on the store sat on your backseat.

The sparkly heels never failed to make you smile. Todd had been in his seventies when he found you dancing at the club and loved to spend money on you. He even took you to dance classes for ballroom dance and bought the heels so you would fit in. When he passed a few years later you got an invite to his funeral. There were a lot of familiar faces in black that day.

Sasha was a dancer turned pole teacher. A dance studio and a solid income that had business records and a tax guy, the whole kit and caboodle. Staying friends with ladies as they left dancing had always been hard but Sasha, a shrewd businesswoman before all else, kept connections like coins in her pocket. A call to Sasha and you could get just about anything you need.

Many sex workers who chose the work were sharks. Tons of people thought sharks were the predators to fear in the sea. Not you. One too many nature documentaries had taught you to fear orcas. Whale Killers is what they were called before a mistranslation renamed them Killer Whales. That’s what Sasha was, a whale killer.

Cara had been texted the moment you got off the phone with Sasha. She would get back to you when she had a moment at work. The jump to the corporate world had been hard and Cara missed dancing, even though she wouldn’t say as much. Doing your due diligence as her best friend, you checked if Kyle had reached out yet in a follow-up message. Her replies came through as a single word each: yep, nope. Oh, so they were all on your shit list tonight then.

These ruthless soldiers would suffer before the night was over.

The studio had five poles in the room you rented for the night; which was more than enough room to have the men at a time practicing some basic moves. You figured you and Cara could switch off at the instructing. This wouldn’t be the first time that you and your soul mate had taught together. Cara, Sasha, and you had all worked at the same club. You and Cara would even make up random dances when things got slow.

The strip mall had enough parking to let you park closer but knowing Sasha had a class coming in later you parked further out and carried in your bag and the drinks. As much as you wanted to break the men who your brother claimed as family instead of you, the person your mother had tried to raise found her voice at the worst times, hence the lotion and the drinks.

With no sign of Sasha when you got through the door you headed left to the private room. The hardwood clicked under your shoes as the LEDs shined on you in silence. Setting the case of fluids off to one side you set the room lights to dim but not squinting levels of dark. Plugging in your phone to the speaker you queue up a generic pole playlist. You wouldn’t get caught off guard by some of your favorite dance songs and make a fool of yourself in front of them. Stripping off your outer layers you set about warming up on the pole.

You knew, by word of mouth because you were not stupid enough to ask, that sometimes Sasha still took personal clients off the books. Exploring would only land your ass in hot water, and as much as you loved a warm shower, the lava of knowledge would melt you into carbon.

They all showed up. Surprising really. You expected at least one of them to call out. Must be the brotherhood that wouldn’t allow them to lose face in front of the others.

“Holy shit.” Johnny lets out a whistle of surprise.

You were upside down on the pole when they walked in. One hand low on the pole, taking most your weight, the other pulling you up as your legs hover parallel to the floor. Glancing up as you dismount from the pole you see Cara is practicing an air walk. Cara is grace incarnate, even with all the time away from the work.

Her hair had been growing out for a few years now; her braid settled between her shoulders. The strands of silver that you had started to notice at her hairline made you love your best friend all the more. Perfectly proportionate from the shoulders down, with hints of muscle, and a killer hit of a smile, Cara can be the physical incarnation of either a goddess or cunt when she tries. You could only run with the big dogs because of her. Cara saved you in so many ways. Sometimes you wished that sexuality was a choice because she would have been yours.

All four men look like they took a flashbang to the face. Kyle, especially, looks affected. Good. Maybe he would call Cara now.

She isn’t breathing hard as she touches down. A glance over the staring eyes and they are dismissed. You’re up.

The order wasn’t repeated but it takes a few minutes for them to listen. When every man is down to his boxers and dog tags, or in Ghost’s case boxers, a wife beater, dog tags, and a surgical mask, you begin your lesson. First point, always, is safety. Once the basics are covered you show them three moves, a 360, a fireman, and a back hook. Your goal is to get them used to spinning and getting their feet off the ground. Learning to trust themselves and the pole can be a whole lesson on its own.

Cara, by unspoken agreement, had taken charge of Kyle and Johnny. That left you to handle Ghost and Price. Something about turning on your teaching brain lets you focus on their moves and not on the bodies before you. Obviously, you noticed the collection of tattoos that lay like ruins under the coating of Price’s body hair. You also noticed how Ghost’s tattoo sleeve extended to his shoulder, intricate details that you wanted draped over your shoulder. You also discovered his ditch-water blond hair. Would his beard be blond?

Price, after the fifth time of attempting a 360, started to get red in the face. He could do this, he has the grip strength but he either failed to get the pole spinning before he tried or chickened out if he was moving.

Kyle is the first one to get his feet off the ground. Cara gives a few light claps before making him do it again. The glance at Johnny has you getting Cara’s attention on him with a jerk of your chin. His hands were too close together for what he was trying.

Switching your attention back to Price you watch a moment. Tapping him on the arm with two fingers you wait for his attention. Once both feet are on the ground, brows furrowed, and hands on his hips you give him instruction.

“Let’s try the back hook instead, seems like you need to feel secure. Put one hand on the bar, good.” Pointing at yourself and moving as you speak you explain the next step, “With your outside foot take one step, then when your inside foot steps instead of letting it touch down on the floor hook it over the bar.”

Ghost had been watching, and seemingly not staring at your tits or your ass. Shame that. You picked this set deliberately because of the amount of ass cheek that the cut showed off and how the sheer fabric of the bra cups kept you secure but teased the shape and darkness of your nipples.

Both men followed your instructions. And both made it up.

Ghost made a comment to Price, and called the fates to bowl a strike on their night.

“Knew it wasn’t that hard if so many birds can do it,” he lifted a brow at Price who chuckled.

Cara huffed a disbelieving laugh and muttered loud enough to carry across the room. “Fools. The gods only listen to fools after dark.”

Apollo must have kissed Cara’s bloodline long ago because Kyle went down within minutes. After a series of moves, he looked nauseous, hand gripping the pole with such a tight grip the color of his knuckles changed. You caught sight of him in the mirror.

“Kyle, ass on the floor now,” the command bounced off the mirror as you started toward your bag.

The hand not on the pole formed a fist and pressed tight to his mouth as he slid to the ground. By the time he settled against the hardwood, your bag was being thrown down near his feet and you were uncrossing his legs to get them elevated.

“Back to spinning Captain, you’re not in charge tonight.” You catch Price’s eye in the mirror as he nearly to his down man. Without moving your gaze you continue, “Kyle lay flat for me. Now tell me, dizzy or vertigo?”

“Vertigo.”

Nodding, you shoo Price with a flick of your fingers. The man had a problem taking orders. Settling into a kneeling position near his shoulder you watch his face.

“Alright, that’s something we can deal with. Does this happen often?”

“Eh,” Kyle waggled his hand to and fro, “Fell out of a chopper, don’t deal well with spinning since.”

Even if you had been working you wouldn’t have been able to stop the impressed look from settling on your face. He grinned at your expression. Pressing the pad of your forefinger to his forehead lightly you scowl down at him.

“Don’t let it get to your head lover boy. Sometimes men can do impressive things.”

The crazy glare you see your brother throw Kyle is promptly ignored. You were trying civility on for size tonight. Once Kyle feels well enough to sit up you help him up. When you stand on your knees the man ends up eye level with your tits. Oop. There it is. The startled glance from your nipples to your eyes has you waggling your brows with a smirk and standing. Kyle rises easily, happy to be set to the side with a sports drink as his stomach settles. You kick your bag across the floor until it is out of the way.

Ghost goes down next. In the split second when all his weight hung by an arm before his leg secured the pole something in his shoulder shifted. The barest dip in his body and the grunt from his mouth told you what had happened. It was a pretty common injury. Not quite a dislocation but his shoulder wasn’t seated perfectly anymore. Crossing the room in a few short strides you hooked an arm around his middle and walked him back by force of personality alone. Man had to be at least double your weight; most of your weight being muscle. He moved willingly.

Directing him to sit next to Kyle you wait until his long legs are settled mostly straight to straddle his thigh. You pay no mind to the shift in his boxers. You’d salivate later.

“Alright, let’s see here,” you don’t ask permission before you start rubbing your fingers into the joint. Yep, exactly what you expected. His shoulder is tight, all of the muscles fighting to keep Ghost’s arm from moving any further out of place than it had already done so.

“Kyle, in my bag should be a container of lotion. Would you grab that?”

Kyle, helpful man he is, opened and presented the lotion to you. Scooping out a healthy amount on your fingers you press it firmly in and around Ghost’s shoulder. Some breaths from him escape as whines and others as grunts of pain.

Once the lotion is absorbed, and the CBD doing its best to relax his muscles, you pinch Ghost’s forearm between your elbow and your waist. Your other hand settles on his tricep.

“This is gonna feel funny, just focus on keeping your shoulder relaxed,” you lean back as you talk to him. You stretch until that point where his body fights, the connections unwilling to give anymore. Once there you slowly release his arm back feeling to ensure that it seats correctly. When no odd tension arises and all pressure on his arm has ceased you pat Ghost where you still hold him.

“Doing alright? How’s the shoulder feel?”

He lifted his arm off you, stretching and rotating it.

“Better than the last time physio had their hands on me, that’s for damn sure.”

With a grin you stand, shin purposefully brushing sensitive areas as you rise.

“Glad to hear it, I do like leaving men better than I found them…” You smile down at Ghost and Kyle in what one man had called your man-eating grin and continue, “Sometimes.”

A commotion of swears and thuds of heels hitting the floor has you spinning in time to see Johnny go down in a mess of limbs. Price stopped his spinning and helped your brother up. The rage in his face made Johnny look exactly like your father did. It slapped you like a sneaker wave, determined to drag you out to see and let the whale killers have you if the ocean didn’t kill you first.

Part 14 | Part 16

Bunny Masterlist | Masterlist

Cute divider from @/jimzittos

@leahnicole1219 @notsochillnerd @darling006 @harperstyles @lucienofthelakes @redkarmakai @demothers-empty-blog @cheese-pull @itsmeamysworld @fluffysmiko @w0ede @skeletonsucker @defronix @lilynotdilly @whisperwispxx @stinkii-boii @hyperfixation-train-station @littlelovebug98

[lightsovermonaco]

an: little baby blurb. thoughts, comments always welcome!

wc: 350

Summary: Annoying Pato turns to teasing him slightly.

"And here we have a wild Pato, fresh off qualifying on pole for this weekend's race-" 

"Gimme the camera babe." 

"No, I'm making a nature documentary and you're the subject- as I was saying, Pato becomes very irritable when interrupted... but look at that face, how could anyone resist telling him how hot he looks when he gets out of the car?" 

You grin at Pato over the top of your phone. He rolls his eyes playfully, used to your antics by now and more amused than annoyed. "Mami, give." He holds out his hand like you're going to obey instantly. Normally you would; a spanish term of affection from him is something that usually has you folding. "What's this video even for, hmm?"

You shrug and finally lower your phone. "My own entertainment I guess? I like recording as much as I can when I'm here, cause then when I miss you I have plenty to remind me what your voice sounds like. Or how delectable you look when you've got your fire suit half undone-"

"If you don't stop talking like that, I'm going to have to skip my strategy meeting."

You bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning, "and that would be a bad thing because why...?"

"Bad for you? It wouldn't be, but for me? The earful I'd get would be excruciating."

"Well I'm sure I could make it worth your time. You know, if you decided that your beautiful, gorgeous, supportive girlfriend deserved a few minutes of your precious time. You race car drivers are soooo busy!" Pato narrows his eyes, because he undoubtedly knows where this is going. "Hey! Maybe Nolan has some time-"

"Twenty minutes," Pato interrupts. His cheeks are flushed from more than the heat, just how you like it. "Give me twenty minutes to wrap up here and then I'll meet you in my trailer alright?" 

"I don't know if I can wait that longggg..."

"You can and you will- now go on, be good and wait for me." Pato gives your ass a cheeky pat on his way past, leaving your head spinning. Apparently, though you started the game, he won.

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hi! I'm trying to find a wolfstar fic I read earlier this year.

Here's all the information I remember about it:

- it was on ao3

- I don't remember the rating, I don't think there was any smut in it tho

- it was remus, lily, Alice, frank, moody, and Marlene working at an antarctica lab. Sirius and James were videographers making a documentary about them and their work.

-lily was a botanist. Remus was the director of the whole lab. Remus had a fear of going back to the mainland because of something that happened with his dad. Remus used a typewriter and was always awake super early (or he went to bed super late I don't remember)

-It was angst and fluff I think. Remus was a very reserved but sirius was whipped for him from the beginning

-it took place in antarctica, or some other very cold location. The fic lasted the duration of about a year. There was a boat that they took out to plot herds of whales or something.

-it was a muggle au

Hope this helps!! And thank you.

This is VERY helpful and a fic the Librarian absolutely adores. Below you'll find the fic, a book I think you might really like as it also takes place at the south pole research station.

Rourke by @smodernlife

“Lupin didn’t seem pleased that I was filming last night,” Sirius said lightly.

“Most people that come here…” Lily spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully, “Remus put it like this to me once: most people who choose to spend years of their life so far from civilization have a reason for leaving it behind. Remus wanted someone like us and he held out for so long because he expected he would get sent a bunch of finicky artsy types. I don’t think he expected you. And now that you’re here, I don’t think he quite knows what to do with you.”

When wildlife filmmaker Sirius Black arrives on a remote Antarctic island for a year-long assignment, he isn't phased by the freezing wind, the perpetual darkness, or the hostility he meets from some of the biologists at the research base. He is used to living an itinerant existence. He is comfortable with unforgiving conditions. He expects the world to treat him harshly. But he does not expect to fall in love.

📚📚 Book Rec 📚📚

Myles Below Freezing: Set at the south pole research station. It's a fluffy romcom mystery that's mlm (basically wolfstar) with the MOST LOVABLE wlw side couple. Anxiety rep, forced proximity, oblivious dating.

Excerpt:

[captain-mj]

Bad dog

Been a while since I did something with muzzles and had an idea

Ghost had come back from a very successful mission, the captured creature had been locked away and catalogued. Another win for him and the fucking scientists.

He lit a cigarette and watched the... things in their rooms and cells. The scientists assured them that none were human, but he wasn't sure he completely believed them. Some were very good at mimicking people.

His personal favorite was A21987028. Or Soap. Scientists liked spouting off that long string of numbers, but Ghost preferred the nickname given. It was like how the dog like creature in cell 483 was named "Riley" because of the collar it had on when it was found. And while yes, she was a little maneater, Ghost still snuck her biscuits and things to eat and she liked him better.

Soap was interesting. Brimming with intelligence, perfectly mimicking a Scottish man, and friendly.

Ghost went to his room and sat with him, likely he usually did. He sat across from him and Soap perked up. The brown leather across his face was the only grim reminder of what he was. Otherwise, he looked normal. Even his clothes were nice, of the latest fashion.

"Hello, Simon." Soap said with a smile, teeth flashing under the brown leather. Same one Riley wore. Same one everything in this building wore but the guards. "Come to chat?"

Ghost shifted, legs spreading to fill out the chair. He looked at Soap. "Another mission. Caught a thing that looks like a mix between a raccoon and a sparrow. Its wings are too small to fly."

"How did you catch it?"

Ghost had speared it like a fish and held it down, blade causing yellow blood to gush out until it had the good sense to stop fighting. He had thrown it in the cage and heard the useless wing snap.

"Used one of those loops on the poles. It hooked around it's neck and i dropped it in the cage. No harm, no foul."

Soap nodded and walked over. There were strict rules on most of the creatures, but Soap was different. Intelligent enough to know that fighting back was futile. Friendly enough to be able to play nice. In the fifteen years there, he had never once caused an incident.

The muzzle stayed, so did the chains around his ankles, but his hands were freed. His room decorated. Books were given to him. A tv. He had plenty of enmities.

Ghost still felt guilty. If he could, he'd let Soap leave. But Soap was not truly Soap. He was A21987028. A thing that had appeared out of the sky and ate flesh.

For now though, it wasn't feeding time. Ghost could be here, with him. In this space.

Soap leaned down and brushed the muzzle against Ghost's mask. Like an animal.

"Simon. Do they listen to our conversations?"

"Don't necessarily listen, but they do record them. If there was ever a need, they'd review them. But you won't do that. You're a good boy." Ghost meant it as a joke. A fucked up version of one, but a joke.

Soap looked at him, that brilliant blue was wrong. It happened occasionally. Soap wouldn't look like Soap. He'd look like someone or something else. Usually they were so subtle, Ghost would be unsure if they really even happened.

"Shame. Sometimes, I want to tell you things. Tell you secrets. But I can't. Things listen."

Ghost had no doubts in his mind that Soap didn't mean the microphones.

"I apologize, Soap. Lights out soon, I'm on night duty."

"Will you come say hi to me as you pass?" That wasn't what Soap really wanted. He wanted Ghost to sneak him food.

“Maybe.” Ghost smiled at him.

Soap brightened considerably. “I’ll wait for you.” He smiled and went around the room, a sway to it.

Ghost left, as always, wondering what Soap would feel like if they could touch without his gloves between them. He’d show Soap the sun. The moon.

Instead, he had to have a picture of them on the wall.

Ghost thought of the dozens of documentaries over space and human history and war. Soap requested to have a documentary over bombs, but they denied him immediately.

He'd do wonders in the human world. But it wasn't human. It was hard to remember that at times.

Ghost made sure before he went back by Soap that he had a candy bar to slip into his cell. A candy bar that was grabbed by a hand with too many fingers.

"Simon?"

"Yes, Soap?"

Soap looked at him, eyes glowing enough so Ghost would surely see him. "I appreciate the time we spend we spend together."

Ghost smiled at him and he could tell, despite the mask, that Soap could see. He pulled away and kept walking through the yard. Creatures tried to get his attention. All hoping that he'll be the one to slip up and let them free.

The night ended like all nights ended. With him turning into his own bed in a different barracks. With Simon laying down and remembering that he's doing good for the world.

He couldn't have been asleep long when the alarms went off. He assumed it was Protocol L at first, a common break they had was that particular one. But then he heard the numbers that followed and realized more than just one had escaped. He grabbed his gun and checked his gear, happy he hadn't taken much of it off, and got out the door.

Ghost put the majority of the creatures back in their cages, safe and sound. Most were intimidated by him, despite being able to grow much bigger than him.

Then his gun came face to face with Soap.

The muzzle was still securely on, but the chains had been broken. "Simon. Don't make me hurt you."

"Think you have the nerve?"

"Come with me. We can go somewhere else. Somewhere just the two of us." Soap grabbed his hand and moved closer. "I promise, I'm really not like the others. I don't want to hurt you.""

Ghost put his gun under Soap's chin. They had about five minutes to leave. "How can I trust it? How do I know you weren't playing the long con?"

"You know me. You love me. i love you. Let's go." Soap squeezed his hand tight. "Please. I want to see the world. See everything."

Ghost squeezed his hand back and made a decision.

[livingdeadjester]

good morning. i don't know what terrible things you've done in your life up to this point, but clearly your karma's out of balance to get assigned to my page. i’m livingdeadjester and this is my blog. or, as i prefer to call it... how to get away with girlblogging.

⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧

⋆♱ 19 y/o, british & queer

⋆♱ my pronouns r they|them, i identify as agender

⋆♱ my top 4 films r the substance, gone girl, rocky horror picture show & jennifers body!

⋆♱ i <3 my boyfriend, how to get away with murder (TV), true crime documentaries & pole dancing

⋆♱ i’m v proudly gothic - though i don’t rlly label myself as what kinda goth i am…… but i have 23 piercings & 12 tattoos!!

⋆♱ my go-to games r stardew valley, roblox, minecraft, repo & overwatch

⋆♱ i’m just looking for cool alternative or film freak mutuals 2 chat with while i spill all the stuff in my brain onto my blog BLEHH!! :P

[thepastisalreadywritten]

But recent suggestions about Chopin’s private life collided awkwardly with Poland’s staunchly conservative traditions – and caused some to question whether the story of Chopin that Poles are told from a young age is true.

According to a Swiss radio documentary released in 2020, the composer had relationships with men.

Those relationships were left out of history by successive historians and biographers; a potentially thorny charge in one of Europe’s worst countries for LGBTQ rights.

[concreteangel92]

Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 1

AU Noah Sebastian x female detective reader

18+

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. The reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

Warnings: DESCRIPTIVE writing of graphic murders and killings, blood, gore, serial killer, violence, use of religion. I’m pretty certain that’s it for this chapter but please let me know if I’ve missed anything!

I will say this now, this story won’t be for everyone!! I’m comfortable writing/reading about this as I’ve always loved serial killer documentaries, murder mystery novels, etc but I’m not responsible for you reading this if you think you might get triggered or upset!! You have been warned now, I don’t want to get any shitty messages because you haven’t listened.

I have taken huge inspiration from AHS: Hotel which for those of you who know it, will definitely catch on haha but for this whole story, I’m taking inspiration from many different characters and stories! I do not claim to be an expert on detectives/the police btw haha so if it’s not completely accurate then I do apologise!

I’m very excited to start this, it will be fairly longish, definitely no smut at the moment but be patient, it will come haha 🤣

And again, if you would like to be added to the tag list then let me know!! I’ve added everyone who asked, who reblogged and some who liked the original post if I recognised your user names but I’ve probably missed so many out so let me know!

Tags: @reyadawn @thefallennightmare @hayleylatour @calleyx13 @english-fucker @malerieee @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsworld @lookwhatitcost @thatchickwiththecamera

MASTERLIST

You walked fast down the dimly lit corridor in the seedy hotel in downtown LA, the place had a damp, musty smell and you knew if these walls could talk, they’d no doubt scream.

You’d been called to a particularly gruesome crime scene, you hadn’t had much else to go on but you knew your sergeant wouldn’t have called you if it was a ‘straight forward’ homicide.

Seeing some of your colleagues up head, you pulled on a pair of blue surgical gloves and walked into the hotel room.

The sight that faced you wasn’t one for the faint of heart. A couple that had been engaging in sex were now impaled together by what appeared to be a long metal rod. Both sets of hands had been nailed to the headboard and from the looks of it, they were still joined in the middle.

“The scene has already been documented detective”

“Not by me it hasn’t”

You ignored the officer and continued to survey the area. Two driving licenses were on the bedside table with two set of wedding rings next to them, you took note of the victims names and saw the marks where the rings would normally sit on their fingers confirming that they belonged to the deceased.

“They were married but not to each other. They were having an affair”

The officer from before spoke up next to you.

“Jealous ex?”

You glanced back to the couple on the bed.

“No. This isn’t jealousy or a crime of passion. This is something else, I highly doubt it was an upset partner”

You walked over to get a closer look, the woman who was nailed by her hands was slumped forward, body only being held up by the pole that was embedded low into the headboard and running through the man’s chest, blood had run down her body and into his, but what you noticed immediately was that there was more blood that had congealed around her groin and his.

You glanced around the room again and noticed a glue bottle sticking out from under the bed on the floor, picking up confirmed what you already knew.

“They were glued together”

You turned to the officer and handed him the glue to be put in an evidence bag.

“Have the forensic team been in?”

“Yes detective”

“Please have a case file sent to my desk immediately, start cleaning up in here and get someone to inform the families.”

You pulled the gloves off your hands and wrapped them up as you walked out of the room, heading back to the station.

You walked into your office with a cup of coffee in hand, knowing it was going to be needed for the long evening.

You’d phoned ahead and asked for a few other files to be brought to you, something very eerily similar about some cases you’d read recently.

You picked up the first folder and flicked straight to the crime scene photos. Once again, these were not for the faint of heart, you felt your throat go slightly dry at the scene before you.

The photos showed a woman in her mid twenties strapped to the bedposts of her bed spread out wide, wrists red and cut from trying to get lose from the metal cuffs, her mouth had been sewn shut, her genitals and thighs covered in blood where the autopsy had concluded that she’d been assaulted by foreign objects repeatedly, ripping her apart from the inside. The bed was soaked dark red and written on the wall behind the bed in her own blood were the words ‘a liar is always willing to take the oath’

Her name was Nina Platt, she had been involved in a court case a year ago accusing her ex of raping her, he had been convicted and later took his own life in prison. Only later had his innocence been proven too late. Nina had been under further investigation when her body was discovered in her apartment.

You took a breath and put the photos down, needing a second before opening the next folder.

Oliver Wicks. 19 years old, body found in an ally way, hands cut off and never recovered, his body surrounded by stolen wallets and phones. This young boy had a criminal history of petty theft, in and out of juvie for years.

And the last folder showed an older couple in mid fifties, throats slashed, both clutching bibles with some of the pages shoved into their mouths. They had both been members of their local church, records showed that wasn’t always the case for them however, both had been well known on the drug and party scene before finding god later in life. Their bodies were discovered on a Sunday night after they failed to show for the Sunday service.

You took a sip of your coffee, wishing it was something stronger, before taking one photo from each crime scene and putting it up on your board. Taking a step back you looked over them.

You had no doubt that they were all connected somehow, they all showed similar qualities, they were a show, a display, for what, you weren’t certain yet but you were determined to find out.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in”

The door opened to reveal sergeant Matthews walking in.

“Detective Y/L/N”

“Sir”

You nodded in his direction and looked back over the board.

“Fuck…what a gruesome display. And you believe these are all connected?”

“I do sir, I think we have a serial killer on our hands. I just haven’t figured out the motive yet. None of these people have any connection to each other, all different crimes but somehow the same”

Sergeant Matthews ran his hand over his chin as he took it all in.

“This person must think that they are god”

Something in your mind sparked up.

“Say that again!”

“This person must think they’re god?”

Your mind was going into overdrive, something on the tip of tongue, what was it? What was it?

“God? God!”

Then it hit you and you quickly ran back to your laptop and started typing.

“Detective would you mind filling me in on what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Your eyes went wide as you’d found what you were looking for, you walked back over to the board and pointed first at the photo of the young boy.

“Thou shalt not steal”

You pointed at the older couple.

“Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy”

Then at the young girl’s photo.

“Thou shalt not bare false witness”

And finally at the couple from this morning.

“Thou shalt not commit adultery”

Your sergeant turned to you.

“The 10 commandments”

You nodded, you felt almost breathless at your discovery, there was a new serial killer in town alright and he’d been killing for the last couple months right under your noses.

Once word had got out, the newspapers had dubbed him ‘The 10 Commandments Killer’. The press was having a field day, it was on every channel and on the front page of every paper. A serial killer loose in the city, it was a frightening prospect.

All the previous cases had been transferred onto you, this was now fully your case and you had every intention to catch the killer as soon as possible before he struck again, there was still 6 commandments left after all.

You were once again stood in front of your pin board in your office, it was now filled with more crime scene photos, newspaper articles and all photos of any evidence that had been obtained. You were trying to figure out the killers mind, see what the connections between these people are or were they completely random? That thought was even more terrifying.

A knock at the door pulled you back into the room.

“Yeah?”

“Detective”

Your sergeant was once again in your doorway.

“I have assigned you a new partner to help with this case. I feel this is too much for one detective alone, especially given its nature.”

You nodded in understanding, no one should take on a case this big alone.

“Who am I working with?”

“Detective Noah Davis. New to station within the last month but had an excellent recommendation from his old station in Richmond, Virginia from where’s he’s transferred, highly experienced and he should be an asset to this investigation. I’ve brought him here to meet you”

Sergeant Matthews opened the door wider to reveal an extremely tall, broad but handsome man, his dark brown eyes meeting yours with an intense gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you detective Y/L/N”

Chapter 2