#Best Practices for Command Usage

[news4nose]

Do you know that there are hidden, harmful commands within that normal-looking code? Instead of relying on copy-pasting, take the time to learn and understand the commands you’re using. Learning the basics of command-line operations can go a long way in helping you.

[ryleigh130]

Frostbite- - - ryleigh130

Summary- reader gets hypothermia on a mission and the boys help warm them up.

Relationships- platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader

Characters- cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

Word count- 2.2k

Warnings- hypothermia, profanity, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

Note- This is my first ever fanfiction written on here so please leave me suggestions on how to improve! This story is inspired by the creator @python333 so go and check out their work it’s absolutely amazing! If you would like to leave a request for me to do a specific prompt feel free to message me! That’s it, thank you and I hope you enjoy! <33

It’s. Fucking. Cold. The three words repeat in your mind over and over again as you consider voicing your complaints to the team for what had to be the 8th time in the last 30 minutes. You couldn’t help it, it was cold. Freezing actually, you and the others were assigned a mission in the middle of butt fuck nowhere Siberia so excuse you for being cold.

To make matters worse for you, you’re the only 141 member currently suffering the biting cold as you were the one who drew the short end of the stick and got put on sniper duty whilst the others get to enjoy the warmth of actually being in the building they’re trying to get the info from.

With that thought, you sigh and shift your position slightly from where you are laying looking through the scope on your M107. It wouldn’t be so bad if you were actually moving around but instead, you’ve been laying in the same position, in the snow, for around 3 hours and you’re starting to loose feeling in your fingers and toes.

“[c/n], how copy” your radio sparks to life as the gruff, British accent of your Captain comes through.

“Still fucking cold, are we almost done here? I’m freezing my balls off out here” you groan, tentatively flexing your fingers trying to spark life back into them.

A low chuckle is heard over the radio as you can practically hear Price roll his eyes from where he is positioned, “you’ve mentioned. But yes, as soon as Soap plants the bombs we should be good to go. How’s it looking Soap?” A clicking can be heard over the radio when suddenly the loud, Scottish voice of John “Soap” MacTavish booms through,

“Aye Cap’n, jist aboot done” you hear another click and a hushed exclaim of victory, “Aw set!” You practically let out a cry of relief at the thought of going back to the safe house and getting warm,

“Took you long enough!” Gaz’ teasing voice pipes up before promptly getting shut up,

“Oh shut it you bawbag” Soap’s voice is light as you hear their footsteps going down the halls to escape the building. You watch through the scope of your rifle making sure to keep an eye out for any rouge enemies that might be hanging around the building the team was gathering the info from. You see Gaz leave the building first, followed by Price and finally Soap. You frown slightly, waiting a few moments before radioing,

“Ghost, how copy” you wait a few seconds before radioing in again, this time sounding more worried, “Ghost, ho-“ before you could finish your sentence, Ghost’s voice, accompanied by the sounds of gunshots filter through

“Solid copy.” He grunts out “I’ve got a few on my tail now but I’m taking care of it” you hear more gunshots as you look through your scope trying to spot Ghost’s form. Suddenly, an alarm rings through the building, you watch as dozens of enemy soldiers flood into the building your team once occupied,

“Fuck Ghost, incoming” you manage to warn before you hear Price’s loud and commanding voice boom,

“Ghost! Get out of there now! We need to detonate this thing now!” You hear Ghost reply with a short grunt. You watch as Ghost’s body runs out from the quickly populating building spraying round after round at accompanying enemies following. You try and help the best you can picking off as many enemies as possible before you hear Soap’s shout,

“CLEAR!” And with that, the building goes up in flames. You duck your head from where you’re positioned to avoid the ash and debris from the burning building,

“All Bravos, how copy?” You hear Price’s voice through the slight ringing of your ears,

A chorus of “Solid, copy”’s respond to the Captain, including your own as you begin to pack your weapon up to head out.

“Brilliant, alright everyone good work. Let’s regroup at the safe house 5 clicks from this position.” A murmur of approvals ring through the coms as you absentmindedly hum your approval and mute your radio. You finish packing up your gear when you hear a twig snap somewhere close by. You perk up and draw your M18 from where it’s positioned in the small holster on your thigh. As quiet as a mouse you sneak through the snowy brush to where the noise originated, peaking through the tree line your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach as you see a squadron of about 9 soldiers approaching your position.

Fuck me. You practically groan, you know you won’t be able to take them all down at the same time so you do the only sensible option, you run. Expertly navigating through the snowy taiga, you run, duck, and jump over the obstacles in front of you. You can hear the pounding of footsteps behind you and the whizzing of bullets flowing past your body, barely missing their target. You run until your lungs burn and your eyes water from the cold air. You look around seemingly cornered by the enemy soldiers and the barren landscape when you spot it. A frozen over lake and possibly your one chance at survival, without a chance to second guess yourself, you’re running towards the lake. You hear yelling in the distance followed by more gunshots as you continue towards the lake. You reach the shoreline and tentatively put your body weight on the ice, judging by the fact it didn’t immediately crack, you take the risk and start sliding toward the other side. Luckily you are small and light enough to be able to tread across the slippery surface. You look over your shoulder to see the soldiers staring at you and continuing to try and shoot you. Before you could react, a stray bullet embeds into the icy surface and a loud crack and be heard. You look down in terror as the ice begins to crack and splinter. With a new objective in mind, you quicken your pace to the reach the other side of the frozen lake.

It’s too late. You’re about 3/4ths of the way when the ice suddenly relents under your weight and you get plunged into the deep icy depths of the water. The icy water causes your body to immediately freeze and jolt in pain as the below freezing water feels like pins and needles getting pushed into your skin slowly. You sink toward the bottom of the frozen pool before your mind catches up with your body and a gasp of air leaves your mouth. You’re choking on the icy water as you struggle against the cold, slowly and painfully you make your way back towards the surface. Your head emerges from the water first, then followed by your hands as you desperately try and grab onto something to be able to drag yourself out of the water. You can’t get a grip on the slippery surface causing you to gasp and sink back into the water, kicking your feet one final time you propel yourself out of the water and onto the ice. With the last bit of your remaining energy you fling yourself to the safety of solid ground on the other side of the lake.

You lay on the snowy ground shivering violently. You look out at the side of the lake where you came from and notice the soldiers were gone, must’ve thought I was a goner, you think bitterly. You don’t have time to reminisce on it as the wind picks up and reminds you that you are currently shivering, wet, and unable to feel your own body. Weakly, you try and turn on your radio to signal for help. You almost cry when you realize it’s gone, you must’ve lost it when you fell in. Coughing violently, you shakily get on your feet, stumbling once, then twice, you manage to stand and take unsteady steps towards where you assume the safe house should be.

The hike takes longer than it should’ve as you continuously stumbled and fell, taking longer than you care to admit to get back up and continue. It’s around 1700 judging by the just setting sun, when the small cabin comes into view. You almost weep in relief when you see it, you pick up your pace into a small run and, promptly fall down face first into the snow. You lay in the snow no longer shivering as your body begins to shut down, No! Not like this, I’m right there! You feel yourself thinking. You feel as if you hear a noise that resembles a door opening and voices yelling but you chalk that up to your imagination as your vision slowly fades into black. With one last tired breath you close your eyes and let the warmth take over you.

When you wake up, you’re burning, and not in a nice way. You feel as if your skin is on fire and is about to melt off your bones. It hurts, painfully so and you make sure to vocalize your discomfort with a pained screech. You try moving your body away from the burning heat but your muscles won���t respond to your brain so you can do nothing more then just let out pained screeches as tears flow down your face. Faintly you can hear hushed voices trying desperately to soothe you but you’re too out of it to notice. With one last screech you black out, in the back of your head you feel as if you can feel a hand card through your hair.

When you wake up again, the pain is still there but significantly lessened. You can feel yourself lying on what you assume to be a mattress with possibly the fluffiest blanket you’ve ever felt on top of you. You try opening your eyes, the light took adjusting to but after a moment you are able to look around the room where you are laying in. Almost immediately you spot the sleeping form of Captain John Price, he’s leaning back in the old wooden chair he’s on with his mouth open in a soft snore. His hand is laying on your covered leg comfortably, he looks tired and worried like he hasn’t slept in a good while. You look around the room trying to figure out where you are before you make yourself known. With a small clearing of your throat Price violently jerks awake and stares at you for a moment before he moves into action,

“Jesus Christ you’re awake!” He states as he starts to worry over you. He gently takes his hand and puts it over your forehead, frowning at what he feels, he moves toward yours eyes. With a flashlight he checks your eyes and nods once before setting the flashlight back aside. Once he finishes his initial exam, he surges forwards and wraps you in a tight embrace,

“NEVER do that again, you hear me?!” He started firmly, his voice laced with clear worry and concern. You chuckle lowly and rasp out,

“My bad, next time I wanna take a quick dip in the pool I’ll wait until summer.” This obviously was the wrong response as Price fixes you with a firm glare,

“I’m serious [c/n]! Do you have any idea how worried we were! First, you were MIA for 2 hours! Then, you show up DRENCHED in −5 °C weather! And THEN, we find you face down in the bloody snow! [y/n] we thought you were dead!” He scolds. You look down with a light blush of shame tinting your cheeks but before you could apologize, the door slams open causing you and Price to jump. In rushes both Soap and Ghost as they storm over to your bedside. Soap grabs your hand and holds it to his face,

“Steamin Jesus kid, ye gave us quite the scare there.” He says into your palm, Ghost approaches his side and stares at you in worry,

“How are you feeling?” He asks. You open your mouth to respond when suddenly footsteps echo through the hall and Gaz comes barreling into the room.

“[c/n]!” He rushes to your bedside and pulls you into a tight hug,

“Gaz! Quit it! Ye gonna hurt the lad” Soap scolds immediately as Gaz pulls away sheepishly with a muttered apology. You take a moment to gather your thoughts before looking back up at the team you consider family.

“M’sorry” you mutter out, tears threatening to fall, “they- they came so quickly and and I tired to run but I couldn’t lose ‘em so I tried to cross the lake but then they shot at it and I fell in and itwassocold-“ your rambling coming to a stop when a firm hand lands on your shoulder. You look up to see Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“Hey, hey kid. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe now” Price soothes gently. “It’s gonna be alright we’re here.” He continues giving you a soft look. You nod looking at your shaking hands when suddenly clothed hands cover your own. You look at Ghost as he warms your still cold hands with his own, you feel a hand in your hair and smile as you lean into Price’s touch. Soap and Gaz bring up a chair next to your bedside and sit close to you, protectively shielding your body from further harm. With the team you consider family so close to you, you give into your quickly tiring eyes and fall into a deep, comfortable sleep.

[cyberstudious]

Tips for Studying Cybersecurity

I created this post for the Studyblr Masterpost Jam, check out the tag for more cool masterposts from folks in the studyblr community!

Getting started in cybersecurity involves learning a lot of concepts and techniques from all across tech, from networking to operating systems. After that, there's a lot of security-specific tools and knowledge to absorb as well. This post focuses on some of the big things that helped me as I've studied for certifications over the past few years.

Memorizing Acronyms

There are a ton of acronyms used in cybersecurity - if you're studying for the Security+ certification, there are about 300 acronyms that you're expected to understand, and a lot get thrown around while you're on the job. It can sound overwhelming, but my two main strategies are 1) make and use flashcards (I use Anki) and 2) take the time to learn what the thing behind the acronym actually is. The ones that confused me most were always the acronyms for a protocol or something where I didn't actually know what the protocol did.

Memorizing Tool Usage & Command Line Options

How do you specify the target architecture in msfvenom? Which nmap option starts a TCP connect scan? If you're on the tech side of security and not governance, or if you're just studying for certifications, a lot of them will ask you to use command line tools and therefore memorize some of the most common options. The best way to learn these is to just practice using the tool! Anki can be helpful if there's a lot that you have to memorize to pass an exam, but practicing with the tool is a more interesting and memorable experience.

Also, it's not the end of the world if you can't remember everything - manpages exist for a reason! Memorizing common flags and options just lets you work faster, and eventually you'll memorize the most important ones just by using the tool.

Memorizing Common Protocols & Port Numbers

More foundational knowledge here - this is important for entry-level certifications and just being able to interpret things on the job. This is just memorization again, so 1) create a flashcard deck and 2) make sure you know what the protocol actually does. It's harder to remember that IMAP over TLS is on port 993 if you don't know what IMAP or TLS is - build up those connections in your brain!

Understanding Complex Protocols, Processes, and Attacks

When you're trying to learn about network protocols (TCP, HTTPS, etc.), encryption algorithms (Diffie-Hellman, etc.), or the process of a specific attack, sketch a diagram! Draw it out and get as specific as you need. Keep trying until you can break the process down into tiny steps and explain it from memory.

When studying attack chains, you can make use of Mitre ATT&CK to note the different techniques used at different stages. Professional write-ups do this too, so it's a great way to practice.

Organizing your Notes

If you're studying for a GIAC certification, the tried-and-true strategy for passing the exam is to organize your notes and make an index - essentially a giant table of contents for all of the course material that you can search through very easily. GIAC exams are open-note, but there's an enormous amount of material in each course and you don't have time during the exam to search through the book for every question.

Lesley Carhart has a great write-up on their process that's worth a read - this is one of the resources that SANS.edu advisors point students to!

If you're studying for an exam that isn't open-note, making an index can still be helpful, especially if you keep your notes around for later reference. It's also a good way to review and find topics that you need to put a bit more time into.

The tl;dr here is:

Make flashcards for anything that you need to memorize. Use a spaced repetition tool like Anki that will let you study in short bursts over a long period of time, because cramming won't help in the long run.

Get your hands dirty! Practice the labs or sample problems, play with the tools, and experiment.

Keep good notes. It's very easy to feel a sense of information overload in cybersecurity, so having a system that lets you store information outside of your brain but still access it quickly is key.

If you have any questions about how I handle a specific topic or studied something, feel free to send me an ask!

[tohwitchesduels]

LOSERS BRACKET OF WITCHES DUELS - Battle 14: Gavin vs Angmar

Disclaimer: This is not a popularity contest or which character you prefer, in this tournament, you decide who is stronger/better/smarter/etc. opponent.

information for both opponents under the cut to those who don't know what they can do in their battle:

Gavin Deamonne:

Gavin Deamonne specializes mainly in abomination magic and it is not known whether or not he knows or practices spells of another kind.

Gavin is overall a pretty skilled witch from Glandus High and his debut episode proves he's not afraid to seek adventures and is capable of fighting off beasts or capturing his opponents. He's not necessarily smart enough to see through illusions, especially when emotionally vulnerable (the boy so desperately needs his dad's attention that he falls for an illusion of himself with a mustache).

Gavin does in fact possess a palisman, but since he's against Angmar he would not have a chance to use it.

Angmar and Gavin attend Glandus so it's not unheard of for them to backstab their best friends without any hard feelings whatsoever.

Gavin may or may not have galder stones with him to enhance his magic.

Abomination Slip - Gavin can create abominations beneath the feet of his opponents making them lose their balance. It can be especially effective if his opponents are directly charging at him.

Abomination Gripe - Gavin is capable of making abomination goo capture his opponents no matter where they are and restrain them or even move them across different locations.

Abomination Minion - Gavin is capable of creating quite a large abomination golem that can be used to attack Gavin's opponents for him and serve his commands. The golem was smart enough to not be captured by the vines that assisted in the capture of Gus and also the very one to catch Gus first.

Abomination Bomb - not a canon one to Gavin, it was used by another witch, but I thought it was a nice ability so I gave it to Gavin for him to have more firepower. Gavin can send a bullet of abomination that can explode releasing large amounts of goo that can restrain his opponents.

Angmar:

Angmar specializes in plant magic mostly but could potentially utilise beast-keeping magic, considering he can also attract butterflies.

Angmar is not confirmed to possess a palisman so anyone fighting him will also not have it to even the score.

Angmar may or may not have galder stones with him to enhance his magic.

Angmar appears quite adventurous and skilled and can fight off beasts and restrain his opponents, which is also his go-to tactic. He's not however smart enough to see through illusions and can be easily distracted by butterflies.

Angmar and Gavin attend Glandus so it's not unheard of for them to backstab their best friends without any hard feelings whatsoever.

Butterfly Army - an improvised move I created, thus non-canon. Angmar can summon multiple butterflies and send them toward his opponents disorienting and distracting them.

Thorn Net-Shield - Angmar is capable of creating a net-like shield out of thorns that can be used for protection and to deflect any raging attack or opponent in the opposite direction. Makes for a good defense as it was able to send a Slitherbeast flying.

Thorn Restrain - Angmar is capable of creating giant and thick thorns and vines around his opponents to restrain them and prevent them from any movement or usage of magic. Unless the opponent doesn't need to draw circles to cast spells, the move is a finishing one, it requires Angmar to be able to freely cast it, meaning that if he's distracted he won't be able to pull it.

Thorn Attack - Angmar could also use his strong vines for offense purposes, granted this is fanon/assumed and not confirmed in canon.

More information for both of them is here as they share a character profile.

Return to Masterpost

[m1dori-eyes]

Begging fantasy authors who want to write about Medieval or Renaissance era warfare to please stop describing every single conflict as a bunch of people running at each other with longswords and full plated armor. Like yeah those battles between heavy infantry units DID happen a few times but the VAST MAJORITY of battles were fought between two bodies of LIGHT INFANTRY, aka a bunch of peasants in normal clothes with spears. Warfare was expensive as fuck, armor costs time and money to make, swords cost time and money to make, people cost time and money to be trained in swords and armor, and most militaries just couldn't afford to go through all that shit. If you want to send an army at someone, you give a bunch of locals spears, because spears are cheap, big, and a lot of individual fights were just decided by who could land the first blow. People didn't have hit points like in a video game, if you get stabbed through the shoulder with a pike then you were kinda just fucked from there, and polearms were longer than swords so you'd hopefully get the chance to attack your enemy before they could attack you. A one-handed sword is the weapon of a mounted warrior who needs their other hand on the reigns, a gladiator being made to fight for spectacle, or a rich person trying to honorably duel another rich person. They're flashy and have certain uses such as close quarters combat, but they're not practical for general military usage. Swords and shields were sometimes used in large scale warfare, but only by people who could afford them, which were wealthy commanders and a very select few units of elite infantry. And full armor??? Aside from being one of the most expensive things someone could buy, plate armor requires TRAINING AND TIME JUST TO PUT ON AND TAKE OFF. You think just any old ruler could afford to outfit an entire battalion of people with full armor, train them how to use it, and then arrange each battle so that they would have enough time to put it on before fighting? Just for them to fight on foot and not even on horseback??? Armored footsoldiers were niche, they existed but only when horses were impractical or otherwise inaccessible. Stop putting them everywhere, if that armored knight in your book could be on a horse in that situation, then they absolutely were. Also if you're on foot with a sword, and an enemy combatant on a horse runs at you, there's basically nothing you can do, armor or not!!! You either get incredibly lucky, dodging their strike and then happening to strike one of the few weak points on the lower half of standard cavalry armor, or the infinitely more likely thing happens and they hit you with enough momentum to immediately kill you on impact, before you can even get close to reaching them with your sword. The power of a warrior on horseback doesn't come from the arm strength of the warrior, it comes from the speed of the horse. Spears are the best weapon to use against other spear wielders, and will give you the largest chance of survival when you're outclassed by cavalry. Fantasy writers please just give everyone in big infantry battles a spear they make so much sense and they're so cool please I am begging you.

[always-andromeda]

cherry jubilee for my man joby 🥰🥰🥰 i need him to degrade me real bad 😵

– 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝐉𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: OKAY, so, I don't think I've ever written literally anything like this sO I hope the level of degradation is enough here? because oh goodness I may or may not have been absolutely losing my shit while visualizing this whole thing.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (MDNI), clit rubbing, teasing and degradation (usage of slut exactly one time lol), pet names (multiple uses of princess), slight overstimulation, slight aftercare from Joby, nothing else I can think of!

Nearly three in the morning. And your boyfriend sleeps somewhat peacefully beside you, almost completely unaware of the turmoil brewing in your brain. Joby snores gently, passed out in the crooked position he’d collapsed onto the bed in when he came home from his band’s show. He was sweaty and exhausted, muttering a small, “hey, baby,” before his eyelids fluttered closed.

You had chuckled softly as he almost immediately drifted off before you fell back asleep yourself. But hours later, now wide awake, all you can think about are his eyes. How through the mist of your dream, you’d heard the screams of fans throwing themselves in his direction. They part like the Red Sea, his eyes set only on you. Somehow, just the thought of his eyes were enough to have you breathing deeply.

Then your imagination jumped to his hands. The way they picked away at his guitar with a practiced ease. And in your mind, they’d been playing you perfectly too. With a mounting ache between your legs, you can’t take the waiting anymore.

You turn, stare through the dark at the back of Joby’s head, and carefully reach forward to rub his shoulder. You whisper his name, “Joby.”

Nothing.

“Joby,” you repeat louder.

Already disgruntled and grumbling, he finally startles awake. He turns to face you with lumbering movements. Eyes bleary, Joby groans, “Whaaat?”

He blinks heavily, thankfully not able to see just how antsy you are as you squirm. You start to explain, “I…I had a dream,”

“Okay?”

“…and I was wondering if you could maybe help me out?” You finish through gritted teeth.

You can barely make out the way his mouth curls into a sleepy, sleazy smile as he gets the idea of the type of dream you may have had. He chuckles, “You want my help, princess?”

“Yes,” you affirm, rolling your eyes.

“Tell me where you want me,” he says breathlessly.

You think for a second before commanding, “Just…just give me your hand.”

Joby presents you with one of his large hands and laughs once more, “Mmmm, bossy.”

Without much hesitation, you take it and shove it down the front of your panties. The calloused pads of his fingertips brush over your mound as you guide him further and further downwards. You try your best to focus on the way his touch makes your skin shiver but instead find yourself listening to Joby’s raspy voice.

He groans from somewhere deep in his throat as his fingers drag between your lips. He’s almost surprised to find a pool of slick already forming and he gathers it with  two digits. “Mmmm, you’re so warm and so wet. Bet you’ve been lying here just waiting for me to do something about this, huh?”

With your head sinking into your pillow, you nod. Using your own hand over his, you model the movements you need him to make over your clit. You quietly show him, though he knows full well just what you need. His fingers fall into the familiar, tight, circular pattern quickly. Right away the action makes a chord in your abdomen begin to tighten and you barely hold back a soft moan.

Joby’s tired voice plays in your ear as he moves in closer, “Let me hear you, princess. Wanna hear your desperate little sounds.”

It’s so late and your mind is already so muddy that you follow his direction without hesitation and let out the breathy sighs that only grow in volume as the pressure of the pleasure builds. You want to be surprised at how little effort it takes on his part to turn you into an absolute mess, bucking your hips against his hand.

The action doesn’t escape Joby’s notice. “God, you’re so fucking needy. Such a greedy girl, waking me up in the middle of the night to use my hand. And after a show, especially,” he chastises you. “You’re lucky my wrist isn’t sore. Then I might’ve told you no. I might’ve let you fuck yourself with one of those stupid toys of yours.”

“You— you wouldn’t—”

“Oh, I would,” Joby chuckles. “It would’ve been so much fun listening to you try to get yourself off without me. Because it’s better when I do it, huh?”

You nod again.

Joby stops rubbing, reminding you that even though your hand lies over his, he’s still very much in control. The pleasure already starting to fade, you whine.

“C’mon, princess. Tell me who’s the best at making you come and I’ll keep going.”

“You,”

“And what’s my name, princess?”

You grit your teeth and try to ignore his teasing tone as you force yourself to say what he wants to hear, “Joby fuckingTaylor.”

Pleased with your submission, Joby wastes no time in continuing. This time, the circles are faster, relentless, and barely give you a chance to catch your breath before the burn builds all over again, this time stronger and more intense than before.

“That’s right. Fucking Joby Taylor is the only one who can make you fucking whine and scream like the desperate little slut you are.”

The combination of his fingers and the bite in his tone on that one word sends you straight over the edge within seconds. You want to feel ashamed at how you whimper and how your legs shake through the aftershocks that ripple through your body. Joby’s fingers press against your clit just long enough following your orgasm that you squirm and manage to get out a weak cry.

Right before the searing sting can fully set it, Joby pulls his hand away, only to pull you closer into his chest. As if he wasn’t already sweaty on his own, you practically stick to him with the thin layer of perspiration covering your skin.

Joby kisses your hair and places his chin on the top of your head before holding you tightly. Softly, you hear him go, “Shhhhh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You did so fucking good for me, princess. So fucking good.”

Focusing on the sound of Joby’s heartbeat as it slowly subsides, you match your breathing to the soft hum in your core.

As your eyelids start to feel heavy, you hear Joby ask, “Are you all tired out now?”

You nod and this time Joby doesn’t push you to grace him with a verbal reply. Instead, he sniffs lightly, taking pride in his victory.

“Alright, let’s go back to sleep,” he says. “Goodnight, princess.”

With your head against his chest and the hunger inside you satiated. It's five minutes after three when you finally allow yourself to fall asleep, mind only on the gentle rhythm of Joby's hand as he rubs your arm.

[girlfromthecrypt]

My dog and I just had the shittiest road trip.

I’m in a long distance relationship with my partner of four years. They live a seven hour drive from me, and every weekend, I pack up my things, load up the truck and go on the long-ass trip it takes me to see them. By now, I’m used to the potholes, the traffic jams, the impromptu bladder stops and horrendous gas station bathrooms. Now, I love my partner so it’s all worth it to me, but goddamn, the roads are crappy. It doesn’t help that they live off-the-grid, in a hard to find spot. The drive can actually be sort of dangerous sometimes.

Due to personal reasons, my partner can’t join me at my place in the city and even though I want to eventually move in with them, moving out into the sticks would just murder my career right now. It’s a frustrating situation and our only option is basically to hang on and wait for our circumstances to change. Until then, every Friday afternoon and every Sunday night, it’s “truckin’ time” for my dog and me. That’s what I’ve come to call these long car rides, and last Friday was about the worst one so far. 

It started innocently enough. I hurled my bag into the back of my vehicle and whistled for my Borzoi. “Pasha! Truckin’ time!” 

This has become a specific command for Pasha, and each time he hears it, he comes barreling towards me at high speed and leaps onto the passenger seat. Over the years, it’s turned into this practiced performance of ours. I open the door at exactly the right time for him to land the perfect jump, all in one elegant, fluid motion. Not to brag, but we’re a great team; it’s almost like a circus act. And Pasha is wonderful company. He’s sweet and doesn’t mind curling up next to me while I drive, as long as I occasionally give him a treat and stop for walks, pees and cuddles. 

Okay, there was that one time when we got stuck in traffic. It was a hot day and stressful as hell, and he decided out of the blue that the best thing to get my mind off the jam was to loudly sing me the song of his people; but other than that, he’s the best. 

So this Friday, we did our little circus act, I strapped him into his restraint and we got on our way. Everything was going smoothly. The first two hours, we drove freely and unhindered. I was in a fairly good mood when I pulled over at a rest stop for Pasha to stretch those long, spindly legs of his. We walked a couple paces, he took a good long piss against a trash can while no one was looking, then I took a good long piss against that same trash can because the bastards were charging for restroom usage, and we climbed back into our car for the next stretch.

The following eighty minutes went well enough, but around the one and a half-hour mark, Pasha was getting a bit fidgety. Naturally, I stopped and got him out, but he didn’t do anything. He just stood frozen on the ground beside the truck, staring straight ahead with his tubular nose pointing at something in the distance up ahead. Following his gaze, I couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. After several minutes of me trying to figure out what had him so uneasy, I decided I didn’t have time for this. I got him to hop back in and we drove on. There was a tunnel coming up in about two hundred-something meters, and by the time I reached it, mine was the only car on the road. What few others had been in front of me had taken the exit off to the right shortly before. 

So we headed into the tunnel. Totally normal. We always took this route, I basically knew it by heart at that point. It’s not like I had some kind of phobia or fear of tunnels, but for some reason, I felt extremely apprehensive all of a sudden. I purposefully slowed down, rolling up to the entrance at a tempered pace. The concrete arch looked very much like a dark maw to me at that moment. I was a tad ashamed of myself, really; I had no idea why I was so skittish when I had passed this same stretch of road hundreds of times before. It was nothing new to me, and yet, my skin erupted into gooseflesh as I got closer and closer to the tunnel.

And that’s when I saw it.

It was only there for a split second, but my weary eyes caught a glimpse of something that looked like an enormous hand. Six long, thin, coal-black fingers had gripped onto the outer edge of the concrete arch, and I spotted them just in time as they peeled off and withdrew, vanishing into the darkness inside. For a moment, my brain got “hung up”, just… temporarily stopped working as it tried to process the image my sense of vision had sent up to it. I gaped at the now still, unmoving, unsuspecting opening ahead of me, and before I could bring my car to a stop, I had already rolled on into the tunnel.

Pasha lost it. The second the concrete had swallowed us, he started howling and barking, frantically tossing his head and pounding the faded leather seat with his paws. He’d risen to his full height, or rather the extent of it the limited space of the truck and his restraint allowed, and he was raising hell. I couldn’t blame him. I was at a complete loss, and a part of me desperately wanted to hold onto the hope that what I had seen had merely been an illusion created by an overactive imagination and eyestrain. I didn’t stay in denial for long. Pasha kept pointing his snout up like he was trying to get my attention, and when I finally put two and two together, I remembered that I had a sunroof. 

I tipped my head back, looking through the glass at the ceiling of the tunnel outside, only for my heart to jump into my throat. There was something staring in at me, two wide eyes meeting mine. It was about five or six times the size of a person and of humanoid shape, but absolutely emaciated. Its skin was dark, not the normal kind of dark but literal jet black, and it didn’t appear to have a single hair on its head. The thing was clinging to the round top of the concrete corridor, its giant body curled up and flattened against the curve of the tunnel. I only managed to catch a quick peek at it before I instinctively whipped my head back down and stepped on the gas.

My truck lurched forward. The engine howled, Pasha howled. I howled. I was gripped by raw, naked terror; the hands with which I was clutching the steering wheel were laced with cold sweat and my chest felt as though it was going to burst. The light at the end of the tunnel was becoming brighter, bigger, closer, my unblinking gaze trained on it as I sped towards it for dear life. Glancing up through the sunroof, I could spot the creature scuttling across the length of the ceiling, its movements almost resembling those of a large spider. Squeezing the last possible bit of effort from my wailing truck, I tightened my grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white as a quiet prayer passed my lips. 

The thing arrived at the end of the tunnel at about the same time I did. Its two long arms swooped down like a bird of prey as it reached for me. My stomach turned, I pressed my eyes shut and, with a feral yank of the wheel, I sent my car swerving, dodging its long, greedy fingers by a hair’s breadth. Bright daylight enveloped me as I emerged from the tunnel. I did not even think of slowing down. I didn’t allow myself to look over my shoulder, but I knew I was safe again when I saw several other cars in the distance ahead. These things only come for me when I’m alone.

Pasha’s yowls had turned into whines and heavy, huffing snorts. I reached over to run a trembling hand through his silky fur. “You okay?” 

My dog leaned into the touch, nosing my lower arm. 

“I had a feeling you were trying to warn me. Sorry I didn’t listen.” I reached into the middle console to grab a small treat for him. He gently closed his teeth around it, careful as he took it from my shaking fingers. God, I love that animal.

We got in line with all the other vehicles. Seeing the other cars and the people behind the windows instilled within me a feeling of intense relief, like the weight of a boulder having been taken off my chest. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, painting the sky pink and ruby red. I watched, my soaring heart rate slowing at the pacifying sight. I didn’t want to have to get out of the car after dark, so I pulled over at the next possible stop. It was a bare, dreary little patch of asphalt where two trucks had parked, their owners most likely asleep inside. I rounded my truck to open the door for Pasha, who seemed all too happy to get his noodle nose out into the fresh air. He took a big dump on the side of the road, drank some water and then experienced a brief episode of the zoomies, likely brought on by the earlier tension.

I was stretching my legs and back as I watched him jump around, but my smile fell when he suddenly went still and ramrod straight. He was staring at something again, something I couldn’t make out. Whatever had caught his attention seemed to be located on the opposite side of the road, but between the cars rushing past and the gentle gleam of the evening redness, I couldn’t make out anything out of the ordinary. Still, I was not about to ignore my dog’s sixth sense again, so I hastily strapped him back into his seat and returned to my spot behind the wheel.

The next twenty minutes passed by uneventfully, but I was admittedly on edge. Pasha was alert, too; sitting upright and staring out the window with an alarming degree of focus. The road dragged on and on, and to my dismay, we were pretty much by ourselves again before long. We had reached the more rural stretch of the route, trees standing tall and dense to either side, seemingly scooting closer and closer as though they wanted to push their way forth to block my path. The moon was climbing higher in the sky by then, its silvery glow keeping my headlights company in the nightly darkness. A weak comfort. 

I never liked this part of the trip. One the one hand, it always means I’m nearing my destination, but I’m just so alone out in the wilderness. Unprotected. No other people, no one to help. No witnesses. Most of my worst experiences have happened while I was driving down this section.

That day would turn out to be no different. 

About an hour into the journey through the woodland was when I first spotted her. A glimpse of white by the side of the road, standing just behind the treeline, only partially visible. Gone in a flash. I shuddered, and my suspicions were confirmed when Pasha uttered a drawn-out, low growl. Here we go again.

Once you’ve seen something that’s caught your attention, you will most likely keep looking for it, even though you should really be focusing on something else. That’s how it was with me. I tried to keep my eyes and mind on the road ahead, looking only at what my headlights illuminated before me. In the back of my head, however, that little glimpse of white was fighting for dominance over my thoughts. I shoved it down, gnawing on my lower lip in hopes that the sting of my teeth would help me stay concentrated. Whenever a being doesn’t outwardly show itself, you can count on it waiting for the right moment. The fuckers are smart. They know how to make you nervous, how to drive you damn near crazy. It’s best not to look at whatever’s happening on the sides of the road. Eyes wide open and ahead, safe and strong and steely. That’s the only way.

I somehow managed to ignore the white spot that drew closer to my car from the left. Two minutes later, I could see her again out of the corner of my eye, approaching from my right this time. Cold dread seeped into my bones, fear pooling in the pit of my stomach like icy water. Pasha started barking again and my teeth drew blood from my lip. I could make out almost her entire form by then. She was small, scrawny, pale and blond. Her white dress fluttered around the bony shovels of her hips like it was spun from cobwebs, and I could see each bone shifting beneath as she moved. She was trying to distract me, I knew she was—too bad it was working. 

It took all my willpower not to slow down, not to abruptly pump the brakes everytime she appeared. My stomach jolted with each sudden appearance of the being, and I could practically feel her patience waning as she drew closer and closer each time in an attempt to startle me. I knew what she wanted. She would only stop when I was dead in a roadside ditch, crushed to jelly by my truck; perhaps wrapped around a tree or lying on its roof. I was not about to give her that satisfaction. 

Once more, I sped up my truck, the engine’s roar like a war cry as Pasha and I shot through the night. I lowered my head, my jaw set and my gaze pointing perfectly straight ahead. And then, seemingly appearing out of thin air, she simply stood in front of my truck, right there in the middle of the road. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of her face. It felt like there was an invisible rope tightening around my neck. Two wide, bulbous eyes met mine from within her frame of blond hair. They were sitting in the very middle of her head, taking up far too much space. She had no mouth, no nose, no nothing; just these gigantic, piercing eyes. Pasha let out a howl, panicking as he tugged against his restraint, and while I felt exactly the same, this brief moment of terror was over before it truly began.

A loud thump rang out as the ghostly woman was snatched up by my speeding vehicle, rolling up the hood of the truck before sailing over the roof. I didn’t swerve, didn’t brake, didn’t dare to look in the mirror. I kept on driving, leaving her laying there, wherever it was the momentum of my mighty car had propelled her to. About twenty minutes later, I finally allowed myself to relax, practically melting into my seat. Pasha had drawn himself up beside me, radiating victory, and I smiled and scratched his ear. “We did it, boy.”

I, too, felt weirdly proud of myself. Normally, only one of these things makes a pass at me, but I’d managed to evade two in a row. I was exhausted, my heart was still pounding like a sledgehammer, but damn, I felt good. Pasha and I enjoyed an uneventful remainder of the trip, and when I finally pulled up outside my partner’s remote little cabin, I was ready to drop for the night. The door, adorned by a rabbit’s paw, swung open with an ear-straining creak, and I stepped into the pitch-black interior. This was a comfortable, homely kind of darkness though, and I felt immediately at ease. Taking a deep breath, I sucked in the sweet smell of herbs, oils and incense. Pasha trotted in after me, and a smile came to my face when I heard him starting to munch and slobber away at something beside the entrance. He loves the food my partner makes, and I think it’s adorable of them to put out bowls for him in anticipation of our arrival. They always do that. They’re just so thoughtful.

“Hey, honey,” I called into the room.

“How was your journey, my soul?”

“Ugh.” I plopped down on the sofa beside them, sighing deeply upon feeling one of their four arms wrap around my shoulders. “They’re getting worse. There were two of them this time. I mean, I survived, so I don’t wanna mope around or anything.”

“They’re afraid of the offspring we might create. They want to keep us apart.”

“They won’t.”

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[my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife]

One more drink XV. - Pierre Gasly series

Hi :) Sorry for disappearing a little bit. But I'm back. I went to Paris for a few days as a little trip with my friends and also I was having some troubles writing this part. Hope you will enjoy it.

Please leave a like or a comment. I really love to ready your comments and see how many of you have liked and reblogged what I wrote. Have a wonderful day Love you ♥

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

warning: swearing, language, mention of depression, alcohol usage, smut

¤ Masterlist ¤

~ Previous part ~  ~ Next part ~

~ Singapore~

"Oh come on, are you guys replaced his bin after all these years?" I giggled when I walked out to the balcony of the motorhome seeing the two Alpa Tauri driver sitting in a foldable bathtubs. " And you have the numbers on the tub too. Incredible." I laughed pointing at the side to the tubs.

"If we are doing something than we are doing it the best way." Yuki giggled from the left tub while scrolling on his phone as Pierre took his hand out from the tub and grabbed mine. It was really cold on my hot skin. The weather started to get a little bit berable but the humidity made it just so much worse. It was a really good idea from me to bring some flowy dresses so it would not stick to my sweaty skin.

"Even it's so hot I would never sit in that tub."

"Not even if I'm in?" Pierre lifted one of his eyebrow taunting with a cheeky smile on his face. Before he slapped my butt a tiny bit causing me to jump up. While Yuki from the other tub made a fake gagging noise. "Yukino, you are just jelaous. Close your eyes because you are way too young for this anyway." he laughed before tried to splash his teammate from the other side of the balcony.

"Kids, stop it. Actually I came up to let you guys know that bathing time is over, you should get out and start to jump into your suits for the free practice." I pionted at oth of them before I checked the time on my phone trying to show them they have to hurry up.

"What did you say? She is becoming our new whacker because she is doing amazing job with commanding." The japanese driver got out of the tub but quickly got quiet when I threw the towel to his way and it hit his face perfectly. Pierre started to laugh out loudly and grabbed the other towel from my hand and started to dry himself up.

"Don't let me get started on command you in Hungarian. Chop, chop little one!" I clapped my hands together making him ran down on the stairs. "You too hot stuff." I turned back at to the other driver who was looking back at me with a flirty smile on his lips. "No, don't look at me like that with that smile. " I shook my head before I swallowed a big one. My eyes were roaming on his upper body, watching as the small water dropplets were shining on his torso, running down on his hairy chest all the way to his white swimming trunk.

"What smile?" He teased as he stepped closer before I lifted my arms and planted it on his cold chest, feeling his heart beating fast under my palms. "My babygirl can't resist my body, huh?" He had that mischiveous look in his eyes pairing it with the most cheeky smile ever. His handsome features got turned into a cheeky little boy's feature that I just adored so much.

"You know really well that I'm unable to say no to you, especially if you are shirtless. And as much as I want to keep staring at you, you really need to start preparing because you will be in trouble. And I don't want it because of me. " Running my hand up on his chest all the way to his neck before I started to play with his gold chain. Pullint him closer to my body by the chain.

"We will continue this" He leaned closer while he looked in my eyes. For an answer I just hummed as he caught my lips with his for a small but sensual kiss. "Can you please look after it? While I'm out there." He asked before unlocking the chain from his neck and dropping it in my left palm. I smiled and nodded while I bit on my lower lip as I watched him winking at me and started to walk down to his driving room for changing.

-----------------------------------------------

"I meant when I said earlier you are hot stuff, but baby you should not let the car on fire. You don't have to prove anything." I giggled when the free practice was over and he finished with the interviews and came back to his drivers room, where I was already waiting for him sitting on the massage bed. He started to giggle and grabbed on my arm pulling me up from my seat and closer to his body to hug me tightly, hiding his face in my neck. "Putting all the jokes to the side, I know the problem why you have got on fire." I circled my arms around his body.

"Oh really and what would it me?" He mumbled while he was littering my skin with butterfly kisses all over the crook of my neck.

"Before you got into your car, you did not came to me for the pinky promise." I pouted and I felt his shoulders going up and down while he giggled. "I'm not kidding. It can really mess up a race like that. We can't risk it anymore"

"You are right Amour. I won't forget it okay. But can we add something to the pinky promise?" He pulled away and tilted his head while he moved some hair out of my face. "I want a good luck kiss next to my pinky promise." He leaned closer and pecked my lips.

"Hmm I think we can manage it." I hummed in to the kiss and I closed my eyes and leaned my head to his chest after it.

"Oh can we add one more thing? Maybe a good luck sex? Or good luck head?" He joked and I stepped away from him and boxed into his upper arm.

"Do you want to have that just right before you get in the car in the garage?" I lifted my brows up waiting for his answer.

"Uh, I don't think FIA would like that idea. Nor my team." He joked while he was chuckling and started to pull down his racing suit. " Also noone can see you on the moment while we are making love. The only person that can see your face while you are having an orgasm is me." He winked and I felt the heat rising up to my cheeks. " I still have some meetings to get done with the team, if you want you can sit outside, Charlotte said she will come by to see you."

"Oh okay, that's good. I will go and find her then. " I got up from the small massage bed and started to walk to the door. Before I slipped out of the room I slapped his bare ass which was answered with a big yelp and a laugh.

"So how do you like the race?" Charlotte asked as we were sitting at a table both of us playing with the straw of our drinks.

"It's still feels like a dream. Like for real. I'm on a race, in a different county, and I have a Formula 1 driver boyfriend. Pinch me that I'm not dreaming." I giggled as I leaned closer to the straw and took a sip from my drink. We were quietly chatting away before Charlotte excused herself when she got a phonecall that had to take, I was scrolling on my own phone waiting for her to return when a group stopped next to our table and pushed a microphone into my face.

"Hi, hello. Sorry for bothering you. We would like to ask a few question from you Gina."

"Me?" I leaned back on the chair surprised.

"Yes, you are the hot topic now between the girlfriends of the drivers. We know that about you that you and your siblings have a pub, which is going pretty well, especially since the Hungarian GP. Our first question would be, how does it feel like to be in a community like this? Like as we have learned from you, that you have not had this privilage before."

"Excuse me?" I was really confused by her question and the taunting vioce that she was using.

"Like we know that you are comming from nothing, and now you are driving a really expensive car, traveling around the world and as we can see you could manage to get a new bag too." She was pointing at the bag that I have got from Pierre with a mocking tone and a sarcastic smile on her lips. "As from our resource you always struggled in your life before.

"Is everything okay?" Pierre asked as him and Charles arrived at our table, with furrowed brows looking at the three riporters in front of me.

"Okay, I don't like the dragging the other person in the mud kind of situations. And definetly don't agree with the fact that a fellow woman ask a question like that from me. " I pointed at her as I leaned back in the chair. And crossed my arms in front of my chest. " So, let's start again. Everything I have now, I worked my ass off for it. I studied for it too. I worked at two jobs when I was in university so I could pay for my flat, my studies because I have had to pay for that one too. It is true that I have not had a privilaged life before, had to built everything up from zero. What I think is a 100% better than having everything dropped in my lap. "I looked straight into the riporters eyes with blank expression on my face. "About the car you were talking about, I saved up for my car, I bought it from my own money. Which I have had to repair, it was not a fully new one. And I have had it many years before I have even met Pierre. If you would do a good job, you would know that.... " I raised up from my seat and stepped away from the desk on the way where the guys were standing" If you have any more questions you can ask them tomorrow, but at least do some research before so you won't ask stupid things. Use multipule resources not just one, and maybe try to rethink how you ask the question so you don't come out as a uneducated and rude person. Have a great night." I smiled sweetly before I stepped away from the table and grabbed on Pierre's hand. "Please don't say anyting, let's go back to the hotel. Please." I whispered as I tried to pull him away from the table with shaking body, the adrenaline was just pumping in my veins.

"What just happened?" Charlotte asked as her and Charles caught up with us going down between the motorhomes all the way to the parking lot.

"My girlfriend just totally burned some riporters." He giggled as he pulled closer to his body.

"Your PR team will be so mad at me.. I acted like a bitch." I shook my head hanging it low as we were walking.

"No, come on. You have made a point to them. Like you made sure that noone should think that you have everything just because we are dating." He stopped and grabbed both of my hands and turned me to the way of his body to make sure that I was paying attention of him. " Like for real. Noone should talk to you like that. And you have handled this situation really good."

"Can you pinch me?" I asked which really surprised him

"Why?"

"Just to know that I'm not dreaming and a bunch of reporters were just really trying to make some gossips about me just like about big stars." I giggled and he shook his head and started to walk again to the way of the car that would take us back to the hotel.

-------------------------------------------------

"Mon coeur, ferme ta bouche." He giggled at the sight of me stuck to the window of the plane looking at the view below us, as we were landing in Japan. "You are just so cute when you are amazed by something. Your eyes shine in a different way but it's just cute on you." He ran his fingers through my hair before I turned to face him with a huge smile on my face.

" I know it is kind of normal for you to fly around, like for normal people like me is driving. But I just still cannot wrap my head around that I'm flying on a private jet which I go to Japan with... It's just incredible. I'm really thankfull for it. " I grabbed on his hand and squeezed it. " I have some ideas to show you how thankful I can be" I leaned closer and whispered in his ears. As my lips were touching the shell of his ears I could see the goosebumps running on the back of his neck and his breath got hitched on his throath.

" We can still get into the mile high club, if you want to doll." He had a cheeky smile on his lips as he turned to the way of my face and whispered back in my ears. His free hand were gliding up on my inner thigh, drawing shapes with his fingers on the material of my jeans. It was the best cat and mouse game we have hahd going on, sometimes I felt like I can win, when I saw him that he got intimidated for just like a second before he bites back with a cheeky comment. "Bad thing we have your team in here." I leaned back in the seat and grabbed his hand which has wondered closer and closer to the button of my jeans. "Behave boy." I patted the back of his hand and started to play with the rings on his hand. He sighed and sat back closing his eyes while he smiled.

When we thought that he have had a bad race weekend last week we were wrong. The practices in Japan were bad but the sunday was even worse. It was heavily raining, the have post poned the race, everyone was running around in the paddocks looking at the statistics and the screens about the weather. I thought the best is if I just sat back in the corner of the garage, with my headphones on.

"Be careful okay?" I have had my pinky extended to his way when he walked closer after the team received that the race will start soon. "As always mon ange." He smiled and grabbed on my little finger and squeezed it before pulling me closer and kissed me. I sighed in the kiss feeling his body closer to mine made me relax a little bit.

"See you later Pedro." I stepped away and sat back on the stool. He stepped closer one more time and planted a small kiss on my forehead

"Last time it worked, so keep this secure for me, so you won't scratch your little hand." He dropped his necklace in the palm of my hand before he walked to Pyry to grab his helmet. I put his necklace on, and instantly started to play with the cross on it as I was watching him getting ready. I was anxiously rolling the cross medal on the gold chain back an forth as I was wathcing the screens. Cars was slipping from left to right on the track, some of them ended up on the barriers. I looked at the mechanics as they were swearing about FIA letting them on the track like this when I heard his angry voice through my headphones. I snapped my head back to the way of the screen, I held my breath as I waited for him to say something else. A long cursing and shouting was followed by when he passed by the crane which were trying to pull the car off the track. My grip on the necklace got harder and I felt as the side of the cross was biting in the flash of my skin on my palm.

I waited till the cars came back to the garage and saw him jump out of the car pulling his helmet and balaclava off and started to shouting with the members of the garage, and he stomped to the side of the track where the strategists were sitting. His voice was loud and he was gesturing with his hands. I was still sitting on the edge of the stool waiting for him, and only got off when I saw him walking to the corner of the garage where I was. He just looked at me and nodded with his head to he way of the hallway. I jumped off the stool and walked behind him, when we reached the corner finally away from the curious eyes of the media he just turned and grabbed on my upper arm before pulled me closer to his body into a bone crashing hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pushed my face into his chest. We stayed like this before I finally felt my lungs are burning because I held my breath for that long.

"I got so scared..." I whispered and grabbed on the racing suit on the back of his and pulled him closer which was physically not possible, due to that our bodies were already pressed together.

"I'm so angry." he whispered " I could have died"

"Don't say that." I pulled back as I was shaking my head. He grabbed the two sides of my face and looking deeply in my eyes " At least nothing happened to you, and that all is mattering." I grabbed his hands and pulled it down to my lips and kiss both of his palms. "All of us just got scared. Just be careful okay?" I smiled at him trying to reasure him that everything will be fine. "Come back to me in one piece, yea?" I winked at him before I got on my tiptoes and places a small kiss on his lips. He turned back to the way of his car and I leaned back to the wall and let out the huge breath that I was holding.

——————————————————

“So are you gonna call your parents and your loved ones?” The reporter asked before he stepped away from the microphone

“Yes, I will do it just now.” He smiled and took his phone out as he started to walk away searching on his phone. I was watching him aside waiting for him to finish with the interviews so we can go back to the hotel.

Pedro 🧡 is calling

The text appeared on my phone’s screen as it was buzzing in my hand, I looked up confused at him as he stood in front of me.

“Why are you calling me?”

“Just pick it up.” His smile was cheeky and his eyes were shining. I was still pretty confused but I lifted up the phone to my ears and accepted the call.

“Hi, so why are you calling me?” I asked giggling. The whole situation was just funny and absurd.

“The reporter just asked me if I’m gonna call my family and loved ones. And I have had to call you.”

“Okay, but I’m not family you should have call your mum first she was pretty upset about the race.”

“Yes true. You are not family, you are my loved one.”

“What?”

“If something like today's event happens in my life that shows me that life can be over just in a blink of an eye. I always remember that I have to say to the people in my life that I care about them and that they are important in my life. Gina, you already know that I care about you a lot. You know that you are really important in my life. As I said you are a loved one in my life. "He put down the phone and shoved it in the pocket of his jumper before grabbed both sides of my face. His eyes were shining, as he looked depply in my eyes. "Because I love you." after he said that three words my brain just shot down. I felt the heat rising up in my body all the way to my cheeks, my heart leaped forward and now it was thumping fast."I can tell you in other languages too. Szeretlek." My eyes filled up with tears as soon as he said it in my own native languge. I wrapped one of my arm around his neck as I put my other hand on his cheek.

"Szeretlek Pierre." Huge smile spread on his lips mirroring mine before he leaned down and crashed his lips on mine.

"Je t'aime" He started to kiss me all over my skin and between each kisses he said the sentence in different languages he knows. I was gigling loudly as he got closer to my neck. I betwe looked like two teenagers who can't keep their hands and mouth of each other, but I was just so happy. I felt like that now finally my life is back on track, I could just forget some problems I have in my life, and just enjoy every moment that I have with him.

Taglist:

@vividwritinglove Thank you for everything really ♥

Just gonna leave this one here 🫣

[mentalisttraceur-software]

UNIX should have never allowed newline characters in path names.

We saved one (1) "if" statement in kernel source and approximately one (1) machine instruction in kernel code (it would be more misleading and less honest to say we saved a "branch" - for branch prediction purposes we can assume we'll never see a newline and get approximately zero mispredictions and pipeline flushes in real-world use).

And what did it cost?

Basically any program that outputs or reads file names must have a separate flag to write or parse nul bytes instead of newlines, which of course is never the default, but literally every usage of those commands needs to know about it and think about it just to be sure it's correct, and many uses need to actually use that option.

Huge amounts of software that will probably break in hard-to-debug or silently-does-the-wrong-thing ways, including in ways that create exploitable vulnerabilities, if a file or directory name does contain a newline.

You can't print an error message containing a file name argument without needing to ask yourself if it's still going to be practical to parse if a newline somehow got in there.

Modern operating systems should start to take that capability away. This is not a real-world backwards-compatibility situation. This is literally the Platonic Ideal of a situation where "but backwards compatibility" would let something basically not-even-real indefinitely make things worse for literally everything and everyone. There is approximately zero code anywhere that actually relies on newlines in file system paths. Of course, put it behind a feature flag, leave it defaulted to newlines-allowed for a few years of new releases. (I bet you could convince OpenBSD to do it first... they historically actually have enough respect for the harm potential of edge-cases ignored by most people+code.)

I used to think, for years, that allowing arbitrary characters in file names was okay. Good. Elegant even. That it was all the apps that were mistaken. All that code, all those people, all those shell scripts, every single person who didn't take the time to learn and consider this edge-case.

This was wrong. This was deeply confused. This was profoundly out-of-touch with real humans and real value. This was, at best, the result of too much philosophizing (and treating my ability to mind the edge cases as a virtue and standard to hold others to) while losing track of the real world. During the original UNIX design, it might have also just been amateur and shortsighted. A limitation and inefficiency at the kernel level which keeps an infinity of code from needing to deal with an edge case is freeing and efficient, actually.

I'm so glad I've now accumulated enough experience to see this and update my design sensibilities.

[thedarkmistress16]

Hetalia G8 (+ Canada, Romano, and Prussia) as Teachers (2/3)

Part 1. Part 3.

~Shared Classes~

Traditional Art. Italy, Romano, France, and Japan. Italy will bring in instructors and friends of his to provide their perspective on a specific art movement or style he’s covering, though Italy usually wants them to stay longer and chat with him despite their busy schedules. Even interrupting their guest’s demonstrations at times. He likes bringing in France for the Impressionism movement, Japan for his bold lineart, and Romano to let his brother show off his art skills.

Italian: Italy and Romano. Despite Italy dragging his brother to instruct the course with him on many occasions, Romano is notoriously awful at teaching languages because he frustratedly curses at the students every time. The board still hasn’t done anything about this despite specifically only wanting the younger Italian brother to teach the language.

Technology: Germany, Japan, and America. Germany brings them in for their perspective on the topic and to describe how their cultures advanced their usage of technology as a comparison point between different origin factors, but mainly concerning culture and purpose. Students suspect Germany does this because he can’t teach the required modern section of the course worth shit, and he always denies this despite it clearly being true. He becomes too intimidating on the topic when the students push him on it, and they all quickly back down each time with Japan cringing or America laughing in the background.

Physical Education: Germany, America, and Russia. A German, American, and Russian walk into a gym. The German focuses on posture and overall execution during workouts while the American puts emphasis on stamina and speed, as the Russian encourages improving one’s power and aggressiveness. The American tells the two about his personal training program he wants to pitch to the board to get the kids in shape quickly. The German and the Russian look at the American like he’s insane and chides him for suggesting such a torturous training regimen under the guise of a “cowboy camp.”

Physics: Germany and Russia. The worst class to take because both instructors are bad at being sociable and making the classroom a friendly environment to work in. They also take the course way too seriously. When they start getting into arguments with each other, the students brace themselves as they continuously remind themselves to stay for their degree. Students would report this, if both teachers didn’t stop fighting like a flip of a switch, startling the students and making them wish they took another course instead.

Finance: America and Russia. Despite butting heads constantly, they provide some seasoned insight on the dangers of spending over budget, what loans and credit company practices to look out for, and how to shop smart by comparing prices and understanding return policies in stores and online. This is in part due to their different experiences when it comes to their own finances and how they handled their money. Most students are pleasantly surprised at how smoothly these lectures go and typically feel more confident when approaching their own finances.

Communications. America, Prussia, and Britain. He brings in Prussia for his equally loud and commanding presence, on top of them getting along well and having fun with the class. He only invites Britain when he wants to show his students what a bad example of public speaking is, much to the Englishman’s chagrin. Cue America snoring obnoxiously at the back of the classroom as Britain attempts to try and teach America’s students “something useful about the spoken word in proper English.”

Architecture: France and Britain. They bicker constantly with unnecessary details when comparing their buildings and never stop one-upping each other on who did whatever best. Yet they always manage to stay on topic somehow, which makes the notetaking an absolute nightmare when students read over it later. They realize none of it will be useful on the tests, probably. So they throw their notebooks to the ground in irritation, wanting to switch classes as soon as possible.

French: France and Canada. While France officially and gladly gave Canada the position due to his own course workload, he still pops into Canada’s language class from time to time to lend his own demonstrations and assist with conversations. Trusts his younger brother to teach it despite being peeved that the students are learning more Canadian French nuances than European French ones.

Health. China and America. China only brings in America to make an example out of his unhealthy habits and make fun of him in the process. Every time America falls for the invitation, despite knowing better, and ends up sulking away from a very pleased China.

Filmmaking: Everyone. On rotation. Fight me.

[ryleigh130]

Hi!! OMG I LOVE your writing sm- it's so cute and your such a good writer 😭❤️

But..if you want to- I have a request

Do you think you could write some angst like Platonic!141 x reader who goes MIA for weeks-( they suddenly go radio silent on the comms and when they check their last known area they find the mic and dog tags, maybe?) And then one of the 141 members just taking a stroll around base runs into the passed out bloody and bruised body of c/n. They just crawled their way back to them lol?(GOD THIS IS SO CRINGY BUT I NEED SOME HURT/COMFORT PLATONIC FICS)

Lost but Found - - ryleigh130

Characters- cap. price, gaz, soap, and ghost Word Count: 1.7k Relationships- platonic!141 & gn! reader Warnings- profanity, gore, death, 3rd person pov, usage of c/n [code name/call sign], usage of y/n [your name], usage of l/n [last name] Note- Thank you so much for the request! I was a little unsure on how/where to take this but I hope you like it nonetheless! <33

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air was thick with tension as the Task Force 141 prepared for their next mission. [c/n] stood among their comrades, checking their gear one last time before the briefing began. Captain Price stood at the front of the room, his gravelly voice commanding the attention of everyone present.

"We've received intel on a high-value target in the heart of enemy territory. [c/n], you'll be leading the extraction team. It's a routine mission, but stay sharp. We can't afford any mistakes."

[c/n] nodded, their heart pounding with anticipation. They were confident in their abilities, but there was always a lingering sense of uncertainty before heading into the unknown.

The mission started smoothly enough. [c/n]'s team moved through the shadows, swiftly eliminating any threats in their path with relative ease. But as they approached the target's location, things took a turn for the worse.

[c/n] led their team to the south side of the territory as instructed, but before they could settle and prepare for extraction, a squadron of what had to be 50 enemy soldiers rained down on [c/n] and their team.

“It’s an ambush! Everyone take cover! Pick them off the best you can, do NOT let the target get away!” [c/n]’s voice rings through the heavy firing of guns causing the team to fall back and go on defense.

The sudden ambush was a shock to the system, catching [c/n] and the rest of the team off guard. The air crackled with tension as enemy forces swarmed in from all directions, their weapons trained on the small team. [c/n]'s heart raced as adrenaline surged through their veins, their training kicking in as they fought for survival.

Bullets flew, filling the air with deadly intent. [c/n] moved with practiced precision, taking down enemy after enemy, but it was a losing battle. The enemy seemed to have the advantage, their numbers overwhelming the task force's defenses.

Amidst the chaos, [c/n] found themselves separated from the rest of the team. Panic threatened to consume them as they realized the gravity of the situation. Surrounded on all sides, with no backup in sight, [c/n] fought with everything they had, desperation lending strength to their limbs.

But it wasn't enough.

A hail of gunfire echoed in the narrow confines of the battlefield, each shot a reminder of the precariousness of their situation. [c/n]'s movements became more frantic as they dodged incoming fire, their senses heightened in the face of imminent danger.

The last thing [c/n] remembered was the deafening sound of gunfire ringing in their ears, the smell of gunpowder hanging heavy in the air. Then, darkness descended like a suffocating blanket, enveloping them in its embrace.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"[c/n], come in! [c/n], do you copy?" Soap's voice crackled over the comms, the urgency and worry palpable in every word. After not hearing [c/n]’s affirmation of arriving at the extraction point, the members of the 141 quickly grew worried. Their worry only amplified when their check ups elicit no response from the young soldier. The silence was like an empty void echoing back at them; a mocking reminder of their dire situation.

Panic clawed at Ghost's chest the longer the silence continued, a suffocating grip that threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to call out once again, desperation lacing his words. "[c/n], this is Ghost. Respond, damn it!"

But still, there was nothing. The silence stretched on, an agonizing eternity filled with unanswered questions and unspoken fears. The 141's mind raced, a thousand possibilities flickering through their heads like shards of shattered glass.

Had [c/n] been captured? Injured? Lost in the chaos of battle? Gaz clenched his fists, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like liquid fire.

"Come on, [y/n]," Gaz muttered under his breath, a fervent prayer to the gods of war. "Don't you dare leave us hanging like this."

But the silence remained, unyielding and absolute. And in that moment, they knew with a sinking heart that their comrade was in grave danger.

“We need to go and find them!” Soap voiced, his tone shaky with clear worry.

“We can’t and you know it Soap, I’m sorry but the mission always comes first. We can’t ignore that, even for the kid.” Price’s strong voice sounds as he authoritatively commands his men. Although they didn’t like it, they all knew he was right and they couldn’t go and find [c/n], at least not until after they successfully completed the mission.

With a new purpose, the team fought with more determination and vigor than ever before. They successfully extracted the target with relative ease, but they still haven't heard from [c/n] or their team which worried them beyond belief. Once they safely situated the target, the 141, consisting of Captain Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz, raced towards [c/n]’s last known location.

What they saw shocked them.

Blood covered every inch of the location the team was sent to. Both enemy and allies alike laid dead, bodies still warm, bleeding out. The team split up, quickly scouring the bodies laid before them. They spent what felt like hours looking through the gruesome scene to find their lost teammate but no luck, until suddenly Gaz speaks up,

“Uh guys?” The three whip their heads around to face the young sergeant whose voice shakes with despair. In his hands he holds the dirty, tarnished tags of [y/n] “[c/n]” [l/n].

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weeks passed with no sign of [c/n]. The 141 was forced to leave the site, even though they longed to search for any other signs of you. The base was consumed by a somber atmosphere as worry gnawed at the hearts of their comrades. Captain Price refused to give up hope, organizing search missions and interrogating captured enemies for any leads.

Soap paced back and forth in the barracks, his mind filled with thoughts of his missing friend. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders. If only he had been there, maybe things would have turned out differently.

A step of heavy footsteps approach Soap and a large, gentle hand finds its place on his shoulder. Turning around, Soap meets Ghost’s tired gaze,

“You’re exhausted Johnny, get some rest. You’re doing them no good by running yourself dry like this.” Soap stubbornly shakes his head,

“"Ye dinnae understand, if ah wis jist there, ah could've…" Ghost holds up his hand effectively shutting Soap up.

“Stop. This is not your fault, there is no way we could’ve predicted this would happen. I miss the kid too, it’s not the same without them but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. We will find them, but we have to keep it together too. For [c/n]” Ghost’s eyes crinkle slightly from under the mask, indicating a smile. Soap smiles back and nods determinedly,

“For [c/n]” The two head off towards the meeting room where the entirety of the base is currently situated in order to find [c/n].

A sense of urgency filled the room as the Task Force mobilized, determined to bring their missing comrade home. Every moment felt like an eternity as they scoured the countryside, following any lead that might lead them to [c/n]

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of [c/n]. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate them all.

But then, just when they were on the brink of losing hope, a miracle occurred.

It was a crisp morning when Gaz decided to take a walk to clear his head. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the landscape. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

His instincts kicked into overdrive as he scanned his surroundings, searching for any sign of danger. And then he saw it—a figure stumbling through the trees, bloodied and bruised, but unmistakably alive.

"[y/n]!" Gaz shouted, racing towards them with tears of relief streaming down his face. "What the fuck!"

[c/n] collapsed into Gaz' arms, their body trembling with exhaustion and pain. Gaz held them close, whispering words of comfort as tears of joy mingled with the blood and dirt on their cheeks.

"We thought we lost you," Gaz choked out, his voice thick with emotion. He quickly helped [c/n] get onto theri unsteady feet and led them back towards base.

[c/n] looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "Please, you guys have no confidence in me."

As the two of you approached the base soldiers filed out of the barracks to see both [c/n] and Gaz stumble into the small clearing. A sudden shout draws their attention and before they know it, Soap is practically tackling the pair to the ground, tears streaming down his face.

“Laddie, ye're back! Whit the hell happened tae ye?” Before [c/n] could answer, two more pairs of arms joined the hug. [c/n] looks up to see the large figures of Price and Ghost embracing them in shock.

“Funny story actually. I was the last one in the team standing and there were still too many enemies for me to overpower so, I crawled into some kind of animal den. I didn’t come out until I was sure everyone was gone. My radio broke so I couldn't contact you guys, m’sorry.” [c/n] finished their sentence sadly, bowing their head and staring at their feet. A gentle hand lifted [c/n]’s face to meet their eyes. Price stared back with a soft look on his face,

“Kiddo, we’re just glad you’re ok. We’re so, so, so sorry we couldn’t find you.” [c/n] smiled softly, their eyes shown with exhaustion but pride as they embrace the men they consider family,

“It’s okay. I know you guys tried.” The others nodded vigorously causing [c/n] to let out a soft chuckle.

In that moment, as the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its warm embrace over them, they knew that everything would be okay. For they had faced the darkness together and emerged stronger than ever before.

[hopeformankind]

@104thsquadfam sent:

“My name is Levi Ackermann. I’m 30. I live in the Underground. My name is Levi-” - Have Levi with amnesia after an expedition and doesn't remember anything.

Dissociation Starters.

Many Scouts experienced head trauma in some way or another when battling Titans, either by a miscalculation in their landing or by being swatted away, or maybe just from a training scenario. But, what no one-- not even Erwin-- expected Levi himself to deal with that... and lose his memory of the years they spent together. It was something that had to be silently told to Erwin by Hange before Levi would need to arrive to Erwin's office.

To say it was something that nearly broke the Commander would've been an understatement-- Levi was one of his closest comrades, a man he'd entrusted his life to despite their... rather odd meeting situation. While Levi didn't know everything about Erwin and vice versa... well, Levi was practically his right-hand man. So to see him like this...

... Erwin refused to lose his stoicism. To panic or get upset would only leave the amnesiac Captain flustered-- so, moving from his desk, he approached Levi with that sense of elegance and dignity that any Commander would have, holding out his hand to Levi. Yes, he made sure his hand was clean. He still knew Levi's habits.

" Yes, you're right. My name is Commander Erwin Smith-- I'm the current Commander of the Survey Corps, " Erwin introduced himself, formally as ever. Though, while the title change would be needed if Levi were to continue working with him... he'd need to work hard to make sure he didn't overwhelm Levi too much... though, Erwin knew himself, too. Sometimes he got carried away...

" You may not remember much, and I apologize for that. You were recently restrained for stealing and illegal usage of Omni-Directional Mobility Gear. But... due to your skills, I thought it best to recruit you for the Survey Corps and refrain from handing you over from the Military Police. "

[thetruearchmagos]

Hey, Arch! Happy WBW! Tell me about military pomp and ceremony(if any) in your WIPs!

You bet your best valuables that I can, Gemini!

Okey doke, thinking over recent stuff I've worked on, I think I shall select the fine United Commonwealth Army tradition of the Parade in Review for this.

First Glory

The practice dates back to the old United Army of the Coalition and the Menteneian War, a conflict fought half a decade before the formation of the UC itself. In the times before a singular Commonwealth Army, much of the disparate forces of the states that would form that polity were gathered and encamped in the fields just beyond the Weslich city of Penzstadt, numbering almost ten thousand. Just before embarking on their ships for the coming campaign, a grand parade featuring the troops of every nation present was held in the freshly cleared fields, with heads of state of each country and many journalists and locals in attendance to watch the review. Troops marched through the streets of the former city state, and the ceremony would end with every unit and commander present gathering in a single massive formation for their General Officer Commanding, the Weslich Field Marshal Cochise Spengler, to ride through on his steed for the final review.

------

The practice would continue strongly into the new Commonwealth Army, and would grow ever more colourful and almost festive. The troops of the first Review donned their battlefield attire for the parade, but as colourful and complex regalia fell out of use with the rise of modern military tools their usage would continue in these grand affairs, with the more well reputed lineages of units taking great pride in the quality of their drill and smartness of their uniform.

Silver Screen

The practice would be rather more vigoously thrust into the modern 12 Worlds with the arrival of the Chainbreaker War, and the formation of the United Commonwealth Army in Upepwani. or UCAU. The greatest expeditionary force in Commonwealth history, almost fifteen thousand strong, had gathered itself on the same ground as Marshal Cochise's army had almost a century before, and despite the formation's vast size it was decided that a Parade in Review would be conducted in the usual tradition. This time, however, things would be different. In addition the Commonwealth and Weslich Imperial officials, as well as the Kaiserin herself, and the usual members of the press, a small team of cinematographers from The Observer, the Commonwealth's most reputable press agency, was admitted to the parade and allowed to create the first official, non-government film of military proceedings yet taken in the Commonwealth.* Filmed in monochrome and painstakingly coloured by hand over the next two months, the film would provide the public with their first glimpse into this most sacred of traditions.

Continues to this day, often for units at the end of a major exercise, or those about to go on a foreign deployment

Going into the Commonwealth's second century, the Parade in Review would experience yet more changes in character and conduct. In the present day, the ceremony is most commonly conducted at the closure of major military exercises, though due to the scale these typically take only a few units, usually those of the "Victor", are allowed to conduct the full ceremony in all its pomp and invariably donned in their most ornate dress uniform. Where time allows, the event retains its roots in being conducted to mark major foreign deployments of Commonwealth troops, in times of peace and war, to give the brave troops their final goodbye until they return home.

* A note on Military Film

While the technology of the motion picture camera had been available for some decades by the time this film was made, the armed forces had been slow to make use of them. The usual frosty relations between the press and military had been as much a hindrance as the still rudimentary quality of the equipment itself, and so the only (legally produced) moving pictures protraying uniformed servicemembers available for the UC public were those produced by the DG of Defence's own Directorate for Public Communications. These were notoriously poor in quality, limited in number, limited in what they covered, and barely viewed at all by the public they were directed at. This, however, was set to change. In opposition the the more conservative approach of earlier leadership, by the 70s After Signing there would be a growing impressiong amongst the government that the Free Press could be a useful tool in achieving the Commonwealth's objectives, as well as a broader increase in appreciation for government transparency in general by the public at large. Thus, it was decided by those involved with the deployment of the UCAU that it would provide an excellent oppurtunity for the Army to put the good word out of its activities to the wider Commonwealth, in line with the wishes of the more liberal and open government which then resided to the right of the Speaker's chair. Further films would be produced by both the press and government over the course of the conflict, bringing War and its sights and sounds into the public consciousness to a greater depth than ever before.

[jacqcrisis]

Question I've had for awhile: How do the werewolves work? Like do they take time off for their, ah, monthly?Are there modern criteria or places the wolves while they're transformed?

*rubs my hands together furiously* okay, so first thing is that magic in this world ebbs and flows throughout the months and especially over the year. The full moon is when you can expect the best outcome for any arcane craft you are planning on doing as that is when magic is at it's height. It's also when the body will experience the least amount physical stress from the usage of magic, and this is both true for witches and some otherly evolved.

Secondly, werewolves are technically in a group of devils that have a form of primordial, under-developed magic, along with things like vampires, selkies, kelpies, etc etc etc. For the hounds, this is specific to their shapeshifting which they can have some control over for most of the month if the individual werewolf has practiced and trained be able to shift on command. Though this is an incredibly physically taxing process outside of the full moon and it's easier to be able to train this skill if the practice starts when they are younger when their two forms haven't quite separated yet. In modern times, this has fallen out of practice in more populated parts of the U.S.

On the full moon, when magic is at it's height for the month, this shift is triggered automatically at sunset and they are locked into that form until sunrise. By various, necessary labor laws, werewolves have to take that night off, partially for safety concerns, mostly for Obfuscation concerns. You don't want some non-magical person walking by and seeing the werewolf from Van Helsing getting the zoomies in an office building cause he stole Debra from accounting's stapler. Again.

Some spend this time at home with the rest of their immediate families, some in more rural areas go zipping around the fields or the forest or some hiking trail close by. In Fairglenn, the medium sized park that sits at one corner of the werewolf block has a 'charity' evening on the full moon where volunteers and special enchantments ward away the have-nots as the more canine shaped locals let loose for the evening. This night and these enchantments used to not exist until a certain restaurant owner started funding the project to give the mostly cooped up werewolves a chance to breathe and an easier commute home as they used to have to either drive or pay to get bussed out of the city every month if they wanted to not spend the night inside their apartments.

Thankfully, due to this being the night most witches are being witches, a lot of the magically owned businesses who employ werewolves have a severe dip in patronage. So while Majorie's can get a little short staffed (depending on if someone is sick or got fired) in the back on these nights, it's also not generally busy because most of their customers are doing either magic or religious shit depending on what floats their boat. Sometimes they even just fucking close if it's like... a rainy Tuesday and only Gary and his newspaper are coming in.

[redwayfarers]

🎨 🍵 👽 for both Cass and Isa? :3c

ty for dropping by <3

🎨 Is your OC artistic? Can they draw or paint or do they prefer another medium? Are they a writer or musician or do they do something else? Give us a quick run down of what they can get creative with!

Isa is a woodcarver. She didn't have much time to perfect it while Commander, but having sharp claws does have its non-lethal usage sometimes. She initially took it up as a way to practice coordination and hand movement in her new mythosi body (on her Mom's suggestion and Mother didn't object) and fell in love with it. A lot of her early woodcarving is kept in her rooms in Lapis, some of it is in Sabir's hands and some of it is in Esmerelda and Mom's.

Cass isn't artistic, not in the traditional sense of the word? He knows music, he sketches, but none of that is original or necessarily good. He has a good ear for music and catching rhythm and tones, but that doesn't mean he can replicate them himself. He'd kill to be a musician, though. Music is one of the great passions in his life.

🍵 Are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good humoured? Got any gossip to share about them?

Isa's the ex-Commander of Plaithus - of course there's rumours about her. Before her discharge, there were rumours she was dating Sabir. Some people thought she sharpened her fangs before battle to make herself extra vicious on the battlefield, though those are undercut by how chill she is outside of it. There were nasty rumours too, but Isa ignored them. After the exile, she was rumoured to be rabid (though that's just kicking someone while they're down type slander) and that she's best kept away from Plaithus because she's off the leash and truly, truly, a wild beast.

In the aftermath of Vestaran civil war, which saw Vasco twisting the tale of Cass' efforts in nation-wide contract to find missing Guild mages and which marked his reappearance in the eyes of the Vestran elite, a lot of rumours came to be. Nobody had any idea why he's Wayfarer Inteus, because there hasn't been a magiani in the family line for generations (and Theo made sure nobody knew who he was after disowning him), so they started speculating that he just stole the surname. Straight up pretended to be an Inteus when he's not. After nearly (accidentally) killing his youngest sibling Aftonio (one of the kids who went missing), there were rumours that he has a hate boner for mages as a whole and is a mage hunter. A good rumour though is that he's Sero's former apprentice, and that one's true, given his sometimes unusual approach to doing contracts, as well as a certain level of fairness he both provides and expects from you. You don't have to like him, he doesn't have to like you, but he thinks both parties need to uphold their end of the bargain.

👽Describe your OC as if they were an urban legend or myth!

I mean, Isa does look like an urban legend, she has dog-like mannerisms, dog-like claws, sharp fangs, a lot of black hair on a pretty pale skin and white eyes. I think the joke writes itself here

Cass just sticks out wherever he goes, because of his genetics (he'd punch someone if they ask if he dyes his hair) but here I wanna talk about gorgon!Cass (aka his Exile AU) because before the mythosi blood, he looked handsome, yeah, but also a lot more ordinary. Auburn hair, brown eyes. But the blood made his eyes and hair go bright red, he has a split tongue, retractable fangs, talons and before the exile, had green scales on his joints and the sides of his face. True to himself, he refuses to cut his hair and it's very red and very long. Truly, a myth lmao