#Of course it's not like they represent the whole country

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[kittyprincessofcats]

ICJ Ruling

Okay, let's get into this.

First of all, I get the frustration at the court not ordering a ceasefire. I was disappointed and frustrated at first too, since a ceasefire was the biggest and most important preliminary measure South Africa was requesting - and of course we just all want this horror to finally end for the people in Gaza. So I get the frustration and disappointment, I really do.

However, I do think this ruling is still a major win for South Africa, Palestine, and international law as a whole and here's why:

The court acknowledged that it has jurisdiction over this case and completely dismissed Israel's request to throw out the case as a whole. It will now determine at the merits stage (that will probably take years) whether Israel is actually commiting genocide.

The court acknowledged that Palestinians are a "distinct national or ethnic group and therefore deserving of protection under the genocide convention". Pull this out next time someone tells you "there's no such thing as Palestinians, they're all just Arabs".

The court acknowledged very unambiguously that "at least some" of Israel's actions being genocidal in nature is "plausible". South Africa has a case, officially. Israel is accused of genocide, in a way the ICJ deems "plausible", officially. This is huge. (And seriously, how freaking satisfying was it to hear all of those genocidal statements by Israeli politicians read out loud and used as justification for this rulling?)

The court might not have ordered a "ceasefire" in those words, but they did order Israel to "immediately end all genocidal acts" (which includes killing and injuring Palestinians) and submit proof that they actually did. How are they going to comply with this ruling without at least severly reducing or changing what they're doing in Gaza?

In fact, this wording might actually be more appropriate for a genocide (vs a war), as author and journalist Ali Abunimah notes on Twitter:

He's completely right. Israel lost today, by overwhelming majority (I mean, 15 to 2? I heard people predict the rulings would be very close, like 9 judges vs 8, but instead we got 15 to 2 (and even 16 to 1 on the humanitarian aid). Holy shit.) The court disimissed almost everything Israel's side of lawyers said, while acknowledging that South Africa's accusations are "plausible".

And this is important especially because of Mr Abunimah's second tweet there^. Because the question is, where do we go from here?

This ruling means that Israel is officially /possibly/ commiting genocide and that should have huge international consequences. The rest of the world now HAS to take these accusations seriously and stop arming and supporting Israel - and if they won't do it on their own, we, the people, have to make them. This is THE moment to rise up all around the world, especially in the countries most supportive of Israel (the US, the UK, Germany): Protest, call your representatives and demand a ceasefire and an end of arms deliveries to Israel.

We now have a legal case to back our demands: If Israel is, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" commiting genocide, then all of our governments are, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" guiltly of aiding in genocide. And we need to hold that over their heads and demand better. We need to do that right now and in huge numbers. Most politicians only care about themselves and saving their skin. We have to make them realize that they could be accused of aiding in genocide.

(As a German, I'm thinking of Germany here in particular: After South Africa's hearing, our government dismissed their case as having "no basis" - how are they going to keep saying that now that the ICJ officially thinks otherwise? Over the last months, people here have been arrested at protests for calling what's happening in Gaza a genocide. How are the police supposed to legally keep doing that now that the ICJ has officially deemed this accusation "plausible"? I used to be scared to use the word "genocide" at protests or write it on my protest signs - not anymore, have fun trying to arrest me for that when the ICJ literally has my back on this one 🖕🏻.)

So yeah - don't be defeatist about this, don't let Israel's narrative that they "won" (they didn't) take over. This might not be everything we wanted, but it's still a good result. Don't let what the court didn't say ("ceasefire"), distract you from the very important things that they did say. Let this be your motivation to get loud and active, especially if you live in any country that supports Israel. Put pressure on your governments to not be complicit in genocide, you now officially have the highest international court on your side.

[katescorner]

thinking about olympic athlete!oikawa tooru today who made it to the paris olympics, representing argentina (proudly, he might add), and his whole story leading up to the games is full of drama and expectations because of course fate would line things up perfectly for the two nations he held in his heart to rival each other on the world's court.

he hears the cheers of fans and friends along with the jeering boos from the locker room, and he thinks, has he really betrayed his birth country when "home" no longer feels like home? with rising pressure, competition tastes like a bitter word when the opposition is all familiar faces. but he didn't make it this far by being sentimental. he trained for this. he sacrificed for this. he—

"the world is watching, tooru."

your voice is soft, but it cuts through the static of his thoughts. it parts his negativity with gentle movement until all he sees is you, and suddenly, he can breathe again. so he does. he draws in a long, deep breath, and you wait for him to speak to you.

"i'm scared," he whispers. "i don't want to disappoint anyone."

his admission is proof alone of how far he's come already, willing to admit insecurity and allowing vulnerability in difficult moments. oikawa tooru is not the same man he was when he left the land he'd known all his life (leaving claw marks into the grass and ground of his hometown; they forget he was only eighteen when he uprooted himself in the name of his passion) and when he let his mother tongue fall flat so he might have a chance at becoming the best (people forget that learning languages isn't some indirect relationship, when one rises, the other does not always fall; he remembers the words he came from, the intonation and the vocabulary, the slang and the meaning of it all; he remembers, still).

oikawa tooru is not the same man he was when his childhood friends saw him last. he's grown in his time apart from them; they all have. he's miles tallers and his horizons have expanded. he's changed, but that doesn't mean he's a stranger to himself.

(i'm scared they won't recognize me.)

"you are still the person they all befriended and the man i fell in love with, and i am so so proud of you," you answer his underlying question with a kiss to his cheek, a reminder of your love. "you aren't disappointing anyone with your decisions."

"but the people of—"

"the people will cope. they'll have to." you shrug. "what else can they do? what you do isn't up to them. it isn't up to the public because the roster that made it all this way and achieved this much lists oikawa tooru, starting setter, not the guy in the eighth row calling you names, not the displeased broadcaster with a combover, and certainly not anyone else."

you take his hands into yours. you're careful because these are the instruments of his success. his fingernails are always cut short and his skin is soft except for the pads of his fingers which are rough but not calloused. he doesn't let anyone else handle him the way you do, drawing circles and hearts into his palms and pressing kisses into his joints.

"as long as you are happy with the decisions you've made to get here, no one can take that away from you." you look into your fiancé's eyes. "are you happy, tooru?"

and he thinks about the uneasiness he felt landing in argentina, the finality in not buying a return ticket, and the eagerness for volleyball that earned him an easy spot under the guidance of jose blanco. he thinks about the sleep that he lost from being hungry in an unfamiliar country, missing his mother's cooking and the smell of yakitori and takoyaki when he walked down crowded streets filled with vendors.

but he also thinks about the first word that he learned in argentina, hermanito, tossed around during practice when he didn't even know how to ask for a pass because he didn't lose a brotherhood when he left japan, he just gained one in argentina. he thinks about the grueling process of overturning his birth citizenship, the uproar he caused in a country across the globe and the apology he almost let slip for it because everyone thinks it was just for volleyball. oikawa tooru, the athlete who doesn't know loyalty, but what do they know of the open arms he received in argentina when japan turned him away?

he thinks of how stress melted from him that first night after receiving his new passport, walking to your shared apartment with his stomach grumbling at the smell of choripán and alfajor as he hummed along to lamento boliviano. he thinks of how joy spilled into him, realizing he was finally home.

so he nods at your question and he draws stuttered hearts into your palms and he presses a kiss to your temple.

(thank you for seeing who i am.)

"i'm happy."

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

My thoughts about the Trump assassination attempt

After having a few hours to process this whole thing and see reactions from across the political spectrum, I'm having some thoughts and some feelings.

First off, as I said earlier, Trump is a fucking boss. Take anyone who ran for president in the last 20 years, put them in that exact situation, and I don't think a single one responds by raising his fist and snarling in defiance and righteous anger. They run. They cry. They keep their heads down and the first statement you h ear from them is hours later filtered through 20 different speech writers. Today proved to me that, whatever else he may be, Trump is a genuine bad ass. He's exactly the person I want at the end of a sword pointed the United States. Because he's going to have a sword of his own pointed right back, and he's not going to run and hide when it comes time to use it.

Second, the modern left is full of monsters. The amount of people screaming and crying because this assassination attempt failed actually sickens me. It's one thing to have fantasies about easy solutions to the things that scare you. Hell, I'm not innocent. I've thought about how much better things might be if this politician was no longer around or this activist group got axed. But one of the things I did today was think about how I would feel if the assassin succeeded. And then I thought about how I'd feel if someone took a shot at Biden and he didn't survive. Neither thought gave me any good feelings. Obviously I'd be more upset if Trump died, but today showed me that I don't want us to start down the path of shooting political leaders. But too many people on the left, people who should know better, at least enough to hide their true feelings, have no problem publicly wishing Trump was dead right now. That assassinating presidential candidates was a legitimate tactic--but only against the politicians they don't like, of course.

Fuck that.

Fuck them.

America is better than that. Americans are better than that. We're not some third world shithole like Mexico. We're the greatest country in the world. We're the last bastion of representative government. The last place in the world where freedom exists. And it's time we started acting like it.

Third, I ain't got no time for conspiracy theories. Sorry guys, but this wasn't staged and this wasn't a CIA hitman. Unless real, hard evidence comes out otherwise, you won't ever get me to believe any of the nonsense I've seen floated around. Don't be so lost in the true things the media has dismissed as "conspiracy theories" that you immediately jump to the most conspiratorial explanations first for everything that happens. It's lame and cringe and a lot of people I've seen seriously putting these theories forward should know better. I know we're in our emotions right now, but keep your heads.

Fourth, my heart breaks for the families of the people who were hit with the bullets meant for President Trump. But that's the kind of evil we're facing. Whoever did this decided that the idea of a Trump presidency was so awful that they were okay with shooting innocent people just to stop him. And this is after he was already president and none of the things the media is fear mongering about happened during his first term. Those people just wanted to see a man speak. To have some hope for the future. And some piece of shit shot them because he didn't like a presidential candidate. Or worse, because the TV made him scared.

Fifth, fuck the media. You think you hate them enough, but you don't. The media is the driving force behind our enemies, and there's no such thing as a good journopig. They're all lying propagandists. We just like some of them because their propaganda occasionally hits on the truth.

And that's all I got. None of this is organized, none of this is proofread. These are just the thoughts I've been wrestling with for the past few hours. This is the only place I can get them all down without being interrupted or feeling like I need to censor myself. Do with them what you will.

[yusiyomogi]

what i don't like about "mithrun represents elven violence in the story" interpretations that i've seen a lot lately is that they're kinda. um, i guess, trying to overshadow another much simpler and straightforward reading of his role in the story. which is that he's an abuse victim who's been dehumanized for years by extremely ableist society and now participates in the cycle of cruelty?

like, some of the elves in the story are fucking mean (we're dealing with criminals mostly i guess), but really, they're just super patronizing and dismissive to the lives of other races. like kabru said, their cruelty mostly comes from their refusal to understand importance of time in other people's lives. they don't execute criminals; they conveniently forget about their life spans. the canaries also are a military force of imperialistic country and a lot of their methods demonstrate a noticeable level of disregard to borders and autonomy of other countries and it's the whole thing.

mithrun kinda exists mostly outside of this narrative though? yes, at first, he seems to be an effective tool/weapon of the military force, but i don't believe his cruelty is "elven" cruelty, not really. he constantly goes against typical canaries' methods even, because he just doesn't care about the rules (and pattadol panics about it, showing that this is not the way she was trained). he's only particularly cruel and violent towards other dungeon lords, and to me it reads as something extremely personal.

he's self-destructive and self-critical and without fully realizing it he projects those feelings on people he relates the most to: other dungeon lords. and with that, i think, he recreates violence that was done to him. in some twisted irony he's often doing it by simply trying to prevent the worst: he treats marcille so roughly, because he's desperate to stop her from repeating his fate. and it does not absolve him from fault of traumatizing her, it's very obviously not framed as something "correct". but it's framed as something raw and complicated and uncomfortable. he would treat himself the same way, if he could go back.

i just can't get rid of the feeling that something about putting him as the main agent of elven violence kinda... misses the mark a little? even looking at his character's arc. like, when in other stories characters are meant to be agents of political regimes, their arcs are usually about deconstructing their beliefs or refusing to give up on them and going down with the system. meanwhile mithrun doesn't want to uphold his beliefs nor deconstructing them, we don't even know how he sees himself in the relation to political system, because his story is strikingly personal.

i think the scene in the end demonstrates it the best: while the rest of canaries are shocked or angry when laios takes marcille away from them, mithrun simply keeps eating in the background. he's a part of the system, but he's far from being a shining example of it. i think it could be seen as a narratively subversive move even, because possibly we were meant to expect his story to be something different, he's a military captain after all, and that's not how this type of story usually goes.

of course, every reading has right to exist! it's just my personal take, really.

[thecursedjazz]

Postal 1 dude isn't evil (and is genuinely the most morally grounded and decent person we've actually met in the Postal Universe)

From what we gather he was living a very normal life prior to going crazy, not like the other dudes who go on senseless rampages when tasked with mundane everyday things. As Promo material does state he's a well educated and mannered person so it's only realistic that this man did have a genuine job and was generating a level of income prior to his decline in mental health and moving to Paradise.

And as stated before he is well mannered in the sense of being stated a "quiet nice boy" and "voted the most likely to succeed". From what we gather this guy was the text book example of a model citizen. The only "flaw" is that he kept referring to a girl he only dated once as his girlfriend but even then that could come down his delusions along with his lack of grip on reality causing him to genuinely think she's his girlfriend or  the fact he's canonically quiet (as shown from the Promo material and also the fact that he doesn't actually physically speak AT ALL during the game) and most likely doesn't understand social ques as of it.

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

But the most important thing is that he doesn't even have malicious intentions.

The very first thing he proposes after being "attacked" by "groups of lunatics trying to invade his home" is.....go the sherrif for help. The Dude didn't have any Intention to go on a murder spree, he'd rather of just went to the authorities like any other average Joe. The whole thing really tells us that he's not usually a violent person.

Even rewinding back to level one: the war journals (and Vince) did state that the Dude was entirely convinced that he was being attacked by group of lunatics, one of which even firing rockets at him, goes without saying that self defence is really the only option here.

Course it remains solely as self defence until the Dude reaches the train station, the significance being his war journal where he writes "if I can get out i can warn everybody...YES, I CAN WARN EVERYBODY!". The dudes goal has shifted into saving the country as a whole rather than himself which ultimately steers him into going to the air force to find out what has happened to cause the supposed hate plague. The dudes actions represent him more as selfless now with him now doing this in the bigger scheme of things rather than his own self preservation. If its not clear already: maniacs wouldn't care about warning/ saving people from a hate plague, Dude 2 most likely wouldn't give a shit and let it spread since he was totally cool with nuking the entirety of paradise and its innocent civilians.

Furthermore he openly states that he doesn't want to kill people. At the trailer park he writes that "There must be others like me, immune to this...germ warfare or whatever it is". Practically he's saying that he'd much rather run into some normal people instead of having to kill them, it's a stark contrast to the other dudes with the Postal 1 dude appearing as genuinely empathetic whereas the others will literally kill people for something as simple as waiting in line and afterwards not think anything of it.

Also very worth noting that when he enters the ghetto he mentions he's genuinely worried he'll get mugged, we're really getting the picture that he's literally just some normal ass guy with the idea of going to the rough side of town shakes him up.

(Even worth pointing out that only for the ghetto does he go back to calling it a diary like he's momentarily lost his soldier/war mentality at the thought of going into the rough side of town).

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

So simple and short:

Postal 1 dudes literally just some average everyday guy (who's been through some really fucked up shit that's forever gonna remain unexplained beyond the veteran theory) who's trying to do the right thing but he's woefully misguided due to his deteriorating mental state as well as being possessed by an entity beyond his broken minds comprehension.

He's literally the complete opposite to every other postal dude (and if anything he's one of the most morally grounded people in the franchise as crazy as it is)

Oh and if this wasn't enough: rws did say on a twitter post that he's literally Just some average guy who's had some shitty days.

(I wrote this at 4am so soz if it's all over the place)

[trulyhblue]

Communication

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Dutch! Reader Blurb

Warnings: fluff, REALLY bad translated Dutch, language barrier.

Masterlist

___________________

Moving from your childhood club AFC Ajax was the hardest change of your life, but the easiest choice of your career.

You signed your first professional contract with them when you were fifteen, making your club debut in the same year. After six months of fitting into the squad, and having the opportunity to play in the Champions League as a substitute, you were asked to play for your first international camp against New Zealand, where you came away with a 2-1 win. From then, you have continued to be chosen for the National Team’s 23-player squad, continuously representing them as both a starter and a sub.

You were known for your agility, speed, and footwork, both on the ball and against both attacking and defending players. Being a midfielder, your job to maintain possession and create chances felt like a breeze to you, and your pure, sheer talent landed you with many of the most assists for the past three years.

Despite the friends you made at Ajax, you knew that opportunities to strengthen your player profile and widen your skills across the world were a dream of yours. You were a huge fan of Arsenal growing up, your parents taking you to games when they could.

When the opportunity arose to represent your country at the 2023 Women’s World Cup, you don't remember doing anything but crying for the days following your selection. You played your heart out that whole tournament. And while you didn't make it to the Semis, you walked away with a once-in-a-lifetime experience, with clubs worldwide wanting you as a part of their team.

Moving to Arsenal was a no-brainer. Not only were you a massive fan of the name itself, but they were among the best players in the world. You knew Victoria and Viv from the Oranje Leeuwinnens, and you had been told that you’d move in with Vic for the first couple of months upon your arrival, so the weight of the move felt lighter than many anticipated. You were roommates with Vic during Camps. But, in contrast to your Netherlands teammates, you didn't know an inch of English.

Well, other than the obvious words like Hello, Good Morning, and Goodbye, you were hopeless.

So, when you arrived on your first day of training alongside Victoria, you couldn't help but cringe at what was about to unfold.

“Ze weten dat je geen Engels spreekt, y/n.” They know you don't speak English. She spoke, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into her chest. “Ze zijn allemaal erg aardig.” They are all very nice.

You didn't reply, choosing to keep your arm around Victoria’s waist, your eyes filtering over each of the girls.

“Ah, hier is ze!” Ah, here she is. Viv said, walking out from beside Beth Mead, jogging towards you, eloping you into a crushing hug.

“Ik heb je gemist, y/n, hoe gaat het met je?” I’ve missed you, y/n. How have you been? She asked, holding onto your shoulders as she kissed the top of your head. The London chill meant that you were wearing a black long-sleeve under your shirt, its hem being detained in your hands. The chill of the air nipped your cheeks. The Netherlands were cold, but so was London.

“Hetzelfde. Ik ben goed.” Same. I'm good. You let out meekly, noticing a bouncy Beth Mead waddle over to the three of you, holding her hand out for you to shake. You had played against Beth before, and of course, you knew her from Viv, so you made sure to look her in the eye when you shook her hand.

“Hi!” She sounded cheerfully, keeping a ball at her feet. “I’m Beth!”

“Y/n.” You replied, trying to reciprocate her delight with a small smile. “I'm Y/n.”

Your eyes widened slightly when a ball came flying at the four of you, causing you all to yelp out and duck before it hit anyone. Everyone looked in the direction the ball had come from, a strong, Irish and Australian accent on cue to yell out.

“Sorry!” The duo cringed, running over to retrieve the ball with a grimace.

“Katie kicked it.” The Australian one said, but you didn't understand. You saw the pained expression on her face, and how the Irish woman, who you knew as Katie, glared at her in shock.

“It was a joint effort, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, fuck off, no it wasn't—”

“Ze vechten.” They’re fighting. Victoria muttered to you, making you laugh.

“Ik dacht.” I figured.

The two girls were silenced after another woman came marching up to the growing group, looking at you with a stern expression before softening the crease between her eyebrows. You knew she was Kim Little by her motherly stare.

Next to her was Jennifer Beattie, an Arsenal Defender. She had her arms crossed around her chest, shaking her head in false disapproval before strolling over to you, calling out to Jonas, whom you had met when you discussed your contract.

You felt like crawling into a hole and dying, the whole occasion of being introduced to everyone made your skin crawl. Of course, no one necessarily made you feel out of place, but you refused to let Victoria’s arm go throughout the whole ordeal. You knew most of the players due to their prominence in women’s football. Most of these women set the scene for how the sport is seen today, and the mere thought of them knowing who you were was surreal.

The two girls that were arguing before, Caitlin Foord and Katie McCabe were the first to come up to you. Victoria told you they were sorry, and you shook your head and brushed the apology off, not really knowing how to say the right words in English.

Steph Catley and Leah Williamson came up to you next, saying very few yet simple words before hugging you and wishing you luck. Alessia Russo was next, and you couldn't help but giggle as her cheeks went red as she started to speak.

“Erm— sorry, hold on.” The striker looked at Pelova, who prodded her on with her hands. Russo looked back at you, trying hard to remember what she wanted to say.

“Leuk… Leuk je te ontmoeten. Erm- sorry. Ik hoop… Ik hoop dat je geniet… van… Londen.” It’s nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy London. You knew from her strained expression that she was well aware of how much she butchered the language with her English accent, but you pursed your lips together and smiled gratefully. The thought was genuine.

“Thank you.” You muttered, your slim vocabulary in English coming in handy. “It’s… nice to meet you, too.”

Alessia looked to be most accomplished with herself, asking Victoria a question before she was cut off by Jonas’ booming voice.

You waited, trying your hardest to latch onto an idea of what he was saying, but gave up when you felt someone behind you pulling you away from Vic’s side, leading towards the other end of the pitch.

When you faced the girl in front of you, she must've realised that she had startled you, since her eyes widened at your expression.

She was short, but your height, with a scrunchie in her hair and a training jumper over her Jersey. You couldn't count the hundreds of freckles that patterned her face, her doe-like Brown eyes looking at you with a mix of shock and awe.

“Hello, my name’s Kyra. Steph told me your name is Y/n… Jonas said that we are partners, so you can start if you want.”

You didn't say anything. You wish you could, but the words that left her lips were foreign. You felt a flush run across your face, humiliation at your lack of words hitching your breath. You must've looked so stupid since the girl waited for you to reply. Everyone was set off into pairs, a ball adorned between each of them.

The girl in front of you had the ball, picking it up and fidgeting with it in her hands. You stared at each other in silence, neither of you particularly knowing what to do. It wasn't until the girl put the ball to her feet, kicking it towards you, that you communicated in some way.

Instead of talking, the girl showed you the drills, pretending to be Jonas by overexaggerating her actions by marching around, waving her hands vigorously, and using the ball to make you laugh at her ridiculous impression of your Manager.

Her number was thirty-two, yours was thirty-three, and somehow it made you feel more of a connection with her. She was very patient if you didn't understand what you were doing the first time around, and you began to wonder if number thirty-two was trying hard not to talk just for the fun of it.

She never made you feel as if you were annoying her with the lack of audible contact, in fact, she looked to find it a fun game between the pair of you.

No one chose to interrupt or try and sever the consecutive numbers, finding Kyra’s unusual silence amicable in contrast to her typical outgoing self. Both Viv and Vic were eyeing you from where they stood with their respective partners, hesitant about the choice of Kyra as your partner, as you two were very different personalities. But after a while, the two Dutch women stopped looking to see if you were okay, hearing your faint giggles from the view of a giddy Kyra enough to reassure them.

Because of this, training went by quickly for everyone. Today was a pretty easy session, similar to the ones you knew from back home. You knew you were wrapping up when Kyra started juggling the ball, singing a loud tune before passing it over to you.

You moved your feet up and down as you juggled the ball from one foot to the other. Kyra giggled when she missed the ball you passed to her, tripping over her own feet and rolling around on the floor, clutching her stomach in laughter. You did this for a while, before Kyra dragged you across the field and to the stack of drink bottles.

You didn't really know where you were going, so you let Kyra take your hand and lead the way, walking behind her as you passed the bike rack and towards the indoor fields.

You didn't begin to doubt Kyra until you had pretty much walked the length of the training centre, where you had long discarded the fields you were once training on.

“Kyra.” You ushered, making the Australian stop in her tracks at the sound of your voice. She pivoted on her heel, staring at you absolutely gobsmacked.

You looked around, trying to find the words to get across what you wanted to say.

“Say it in Dutch,” Kyra answered, catching a glimpse of your reticence.

You thought to yourself for a second before nodding. “Waar gaan we heen?”

Kyra’s eyes widened, obviously not comprehending a word you said. She looked around, trying to find a solution.

She grabbed your hand again and led you down another corridor, pushing past a few doors, weaving through the never-ending maze of rooms before finally making your way back to the locker rooms, where Vic had taken you to drop off your possessions before training.

Kyra rushed to pick up her phone, waddling over to you, typing away vigorously and smiling up at you when a voice rang from the device.

“Ik kom uit Australië.” I'm from Australia. The voice spoke.

You laughed, taking the phone from the girl’s hands and writing down a reply.

“I know. I can tell by your funny accent.”

Kyra gasped, snatching the phone off you and furiously writing down a retort. You couldn't help but gape at her fondly, biting your lip at the sight of her concentration.

“Mijn accent is niet grappig, mijn grappen wel.” My accent is not funny, my jokes are. The phone sounded.

Before you could type out your own reply, Kyra went back to typing, but instead of letting the audio play, she squinted down at the translated sentence.

“Ik zou je… veel grappen kunnen… vertellen, weet je? Zou je ze graag… willen… horen?” I could tell you heaps of jokes, you know? Would you like to hear them?

For some reason, the Dutch that left the Australian’s lips left you gushing, nodding your head up and down as you grabbed her phone.

When you translated the sentence you had written down, looking down at the words in utter confusion, you sighed. Kyra was definitely no expert in your language, but you were just downright pathetic in hers.

She must've noticed your dismay since she looked over your shoulder, pointing at the first word. “Yes… but do you… have time... to tell… them all?”

She waited for you to sound out each word, humming and nodding in recognition when you repeated the sounds.

She smiled at you, taking her phone. You waited for the audio to play back to you. Kyra’s smirk only grew when she handed her phone back to you, the Contact App up on her phone — your name typed in and phone number blank.

You laughed, and she did too.

You could get use to this communication.

(just pretend it's you)

arsenalwfc : Cooney-Cross showing Y/L/N the ropes before our big clash on Sunday!

Comments:

kyracooneyx — best partner‼️ Laten we gaan gunners (let's go)

^ yourusername — 💗💗

^ user2 — THE DUTCH 😭😭😭

^ user3 — sleeping on the highway tonight, they're so cute 💔

User7 — the eyes chica 😍😍

katie_mccabe11 — quietest training session yet LOVE YOU Y/N

^ kyracooneyx — um rude 😡

vivannemiedema — Where did you two go after training?!

^ kyracooneyx — um, home? 🥰

^ victoriapelova — HAHAHAHA

kimlittle10 — welcome Y/N ❤️

^ yourusername — 💗

User1 — the duo we never knew we needed 🙌🏼🙌🏼

*liked by kyracooneyx

bethmead_ — happy to have you here Y/n!!!!

^ yourusername — Thank you ❤️

^ kyracooneyx — what about me?

^ caitlinfoord — what about you? 🤣

^ user4 — HAVSJDVSJSHSJS I'm dying

User5 — Y/n doesn't speak English, how did they even talk? Lol

^ user6 — Viv and Vic are there. I'm sure she was fine.

User7 — she's not even that good, at this point they're just getting anyone.

^ kyracooneyx — womp womp

* liked by yourusername

_____________

Number Thirty-Three 💗

You : what does ‘womp womp’ mean?

Ky : Niets, net als het. Xx Nothing, just like it. Xx

__________

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 22: COCKWARMING [LOGAN SARGEANT X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!Logan and dom!reader. If you are under 18 or uninterested, scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you see here then consider checking out my blog :))

This work forms part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!

(Since it's COTA, I figured we should have some Logan thoughts)

It's no secret that Logan has had a tough season, and that he's being very very hard on himself about it. And honestly I think the best thing anyone could do for him is just give him a safe space?

Logan feels so much pressure to perform, to be good for Williams, to represent his country, to prove himself, to perform for his family and himself and it just... it gets too much for him sometimes. When the race goes badly, or even just mediocrely. He gets so stuck in his own head and he doesn't need someone to try and distract him, he needs someone to just give him a safe space where he doesn't have to perform like that.

And cockwarming is perfect for that?

He starts to ask for it actually, starts to come to you after races and fall into your arms, mumbling against your ear and asking if you two can spend the night in the hotel and not go out. You say yes of course, knowing that Logan needs quiet time.

He holds your hand the whole trip to the hotel, trying to keep it together in front of the team but you can see how he's struggling. It's all reaching the point where he's put too much pressure on himself for too long and now something has to give.

When you get to the hotel, he says he's going to have a bath by himself, clearing trying to tell you he needs a moment and so you agree of course, telling him you'll order room service in the mean time.

You're alone in the hotel room for all of ten minutes before you hear crying from the bathroom, and two minutes later he's calling for you. You have to wait until he calls, because you know how much trust it takes for Logan to let someone see him like this. If you go before he asks, he'll feel violated and uncertain if he can leave the door unlocked anymore. You would never ever do that to him.

So you wait until he calls, and then go.

You find him sitting in the bath, crying with his knees brought up to his chest. When he spots you, he just mumbles, " 'm sorry, it's just... I dont know it's all so much."

Your heart breaks for him, and rather than say anything you just hold your hand out for him to take. There's nothing you can say, but you can look after him.

You dry him off, ignoring that tears are still running down his cheeks and then take him to the bedroom. He hides under the blankets with you, resting against your chest and talking about his day. He tells you how sad and disappointed he is, how much he wishes he could do better, how much of a disappointment he is.

You let him talk, kissing his head and rubbing his back at the same time to give him some extra comfort. He talks himself hoarse, letting himself complain and rant and have a little pity party because he needs to be allowed to feel those things.

When he stops talking, he stays cuddled against your chest. After a little while, he looks up at you and gives you a small smile, thanking you for listening and saying he loves you. You give him a little kiss, promising him that you love him too and that you're always willing to listen to him.

It's then that he moves up and requests some more kisses, turning into a slow makeout session. You know where this is going, and you're more than happy with that.

"Can we?" logan asks, a little smile on his face.

"Of course we can," you tell him, always happy to be close to him.

So you stroke him to hardness, kissing away his little whines and shaky breathes until he's ready for more.

It's so slow as he enters you, inch by inch until eventually he's as far as he can go and then he just collapses against you. You hold him close, trading soft kisses and just enjoying being close.

You two will stay like that until Logan gets soft enough to slip out, and then you'll warm up the room service you ordered and talk about anything except racing.

But for now, Logan is happy and safe in your arms, finally able to let everything go and just enjoy being close to you.

[centrally-unplanned]

This article about Hamas's strategic planning in the lead up to the October assault was at least a partial mind-changer for me. So far I had been viewing Hamas as executing a "bait" attack on Israel for international & domestic political reasons. Kill enough Israelis, and in particular take some hostages, to force Israel to invade Gaza; which you want because that will re-inflame radicalism, tank Israel's growing coziness with Arab states like the Gulf Monarchies, and keep the Palestine Question front-and-center on people's agendas.

What it was not about was achieving any sense of a military victory; Hamas did not think they would be able to defeat the IDF on the field, or even truly hold them back. They thought they would do better than they have in defending Gaza, to be honest, but the goal wasn't to "win" in that way or anything. The actions of Israel, in their inflamed bloodlust, would be the fulcrum of progress for Hamas. It was the most logical interpretation of their strategy, because tbh its working, Israel's strategy void has bungled this war at every level. Of course if it is "worth it" is a completely separate question - Hamas is playing a game from deep, deep in the red, if you aren't going to fold and pack it up from that position these are the hail mary plays you make.

This article, a long (and sometimes overly windy) interview with two career members of the Palestinian governing orgs (primarily Fatah), shines a very different light on that. They outline that over the past ~decade, Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar coalesced power around his own faction of highly fundamentalist adherents that convinced itself that divine favor was shining on them and they would be able to actually defeat Israel in the field. The most compelling evidence for this is a conference they held planning the post-conquest occupation of Israel:

So detailed were the plans that participants in the conference began to draw up list of all the properties in Israel and appointed representatives to deal with the assets that would be seized by Hamas. "We have a registry of the numbers of Israeli apartments and institutions, educational institutions and schools, gas stations, power stations and sewage systems, and we have no choice but to get ready to manage them," Obeid told the conference.

They even called people up to ask if they would take the job of governor of this-of-that province! This was not a bored-Friday white paper by any means. They discussed defensive plans and counter-offensives like that was on the table. Sinwar outlined conquest as the goal.

If we accept this premise, it naturally lends itself to the question "okay how did they get the rest of Hamas to go along with this?" Because Hamas is not all These Kinds of People, its a governing state that does politics on the international stage after all. One of the reasons I leaned towards my interpretation was that, for the past ~decade, Hamas has actually been doing a glam-up rebranding of the org to make it more moderate & respectable in international eyes. The 2017 Charter Revision is the biggest example, which included say disavowing the idea that this was a religious war (distinguishing between zionism & judaism), and loosely admitting to the idea that they could recognize Israel as a country if terms were met. Actions like these show actors who are pretty level-headed. Were they inauthentic? Did they change their mind?

Maybe a bit, but its more than they aren't the same people. Right alongside the build-up to the October attack was a purging & sidelining of whole swaths of Hamas leadership. Many were not even informed of the attack - though they knew something was coming. Apparently it leaked on October 2nd, and a bunch of leaders just immediately fled the Strip for safety. This one is the most amusing:

Haniyeh's eldest son took a similar course of action. Around midday on October 2, Abed Haniyeh chaired a meeting of the Palestinian sports committee, which is headed by the minister of sports, Jibril Rajoub. Suddenly he received a phone call, left the room for a few minutes and then returned, pale and confused. He immediately informed the committee – whose members were in a Zoom conference with counterparts in the West Bank – that he had to leave for the Rafah crossing straightaway, as he had just learned that his wife had to undergo fertility treatment in the United Arab Emirates. (He was lying.) He granted full power of attorney to his deputy and left the Gaza Strip hurriedly.

That is one way to duck out of a pointless meeting, take notes people!

So instead of my hail mary politics play, what you have is a story of an institutional coup by a radical faction - which for extremist resistance groups is an ever-present threat. None of this means the "bait" strategy part is wrong of course, that was definitely still the point - but this argument here claims that goal of the bait was to bring the IDF into Gaza where it could be defeated in the field with their extensive fortifications, and then presumably inspire others like Hezbollah to jump on the moment of weakness and besiege Israel proper.

So....is this true? There are two gigantic caveats on this article: the first is that the people being interviewed do not primarily work for Hamas - they are members of Fatah, the leading faction of the PLO. They hate Hamas, they are not Hamas leaders themselves, they have every incentive to paint Hamas as irredeemable. You really can't take this story simply at their word. But they aren't outsiders - they hate Hamas but they work with them constantly, that is how it works, people rotate around in the Palestine orgs. They have met personally and worked with dozens of Hamas leaders; one of them was even called to be offered one of those post-war occupation governorships! (He said no lol) So its a big red flag but not a damning one. And things like the fleeing leaders, the conference on the occupation, those all 100% happened. They released press on it, they weren't hiding it.

The second caveat is that its just really not uncommon for large organizations, particularly extremist ones, to engage in mainly performative actions at scale. The South Korean government still maintains a department that plans for the administration of North Korea for example! Not totally useless ofc, but it writes exactly the reports you think it does that get put in a bin and never touched. Sometimes its appeasing internal factions, sometimes its PR, sometimes its just institutional inertia. Its absolutely believable that Hamas would make a big plan for how they would conquer Israel because otherwise...what do you tell the commanders, exactly? Why are they fighting again? A significant percentage of the lower-level fighters need that belief, so you give it to them. While certainly there is a fundamentalist faction in Hamas, are they ones winning? Or are they just another faction being played against?

I don't see enough evidence to say, but there is enough to make me pause. I'm not sold on it in the end, that is my final conclusion. I think more brains than Sinwar were involved in this and they had more realistic aspirations. And yet the level of commitment and disorganization does suggest that at least some of what was pushing events forward was a group immune to doubts being at the wheel. Certainly interested in researching more.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Family, not by blood but by choice instead | awfc x teen!reader

I previously posted on another account, however, I didn't realise a second blog wouldn't allow me to follow people, so I am reposting again on my new one.

Let me know what you all think!

You should have known, there was tell-tail signs all throughout the last several years and yet you were so blind about it all.

Your mother was a narcissist, she was manipulative and gaslighted you your whole life, you were always made out to the bad guy and she was the victim.

It was clear as day to anyone on the outside, but your nieve self just chose to always believe different about things.

Looking back on the several years of your childhood, you had always thought you upbringing wasn't completely terrible. It was just the 2 of you, only your mum and you ever since you could remember. Your parents ended up splitting up when you were really little but ever since that day, you had always been made out to be the reason for their seperation.

You had always wonderd how it could be your fault. You was only 3 when he walked out, so how could it really be like that?

"You were always too much to handle. He couldn't cope," Your mum would say, all of them long nights when you would wrap your tiny arms around her and sob your little heart out to her.

"I'm here, you've got me. You've only ever got me," Her words were embedded in your head from the day that you'd decided to try and have an open conversation about the possibility of finding your dad. "Why go and find him? Haven't I been good enough. I'm the one that's looked after you all of these years and this is the thanks that I get in return?" It was always something that like, always a guiltrip and it was something that she knew would work well.

The harsh statement of the most recent conversation with the older woman left a bitter taste in your mouth and make you question every single thing in life.

"Aren't you happy for me? I made it, mum!" You exclaimed, you were happy enough to want to share the news with your mum but you found so dumbfound by her response which left you feeling shame and judgement for even wanting to tell her.

"Yes you have made it Y/N but you know, you only have me to thank for that now, don't you?" Your mum once again found a way to make it about herself, regardless of the situation;  It was always and only ever about her. "I'm sure that you can find some way to thank me though. All of those years and the amount I have spent on football boots for you. You'd be nowhere if it wasn't for me and I think you owe me now, don't you?" she told you.

You remember feeling stunned by her words, there was a lot of emotions that you had felt building up inside as you were ultimately confused how she'd somehow managed to twist this to make it all about herself but of course she was quick enough to make an excuse to end the call when she grew bored of talking to you.

You should have knew better, every phone call always ended up being the same way and it always left you with a feeling of guilt for making a life for yourself and that phone call that night wasn't any different. You had just been so excited to spill the news, however that excitment soon faded and was replaced by confused feelings of upset and anger once you'd told her, you fought to hold in your tears during the initial phone call but you were on the verge of breaking by the time she had hung up.

That phone call was the one you told her about making it into the national team, you had only been a part of Arsenal womens' first team for under a year and it felt like a massive achievement to be selected to represent your country and immediately you couldn't wait to share the news with your mum - You thought that she'd be pleased for you but you couldn't be further away from the truth.

Ever since that phone call, you had tried your hardest to distance yourself from your mum but it hurt to do that. The women was the only blood related family member that you had, it had only ever been the 2 of you, together through thick and thin.

Flash forward to now, the current time where you are sitting on the sofa, you had returned home after a long training session and you couldn't help but think about it that conversation on a constant loop in your head. 

"You were quiet tonight kidda," Leah perched on the arm of sofa as looked at you in concern. "I'm about to start cookin' tea. How's chicken dippers and smiley faces sound, eh?" she suggested.

"Mhm. Sure that sounds good to me," You mumbled as you kept your eyes focused on nothing but the telly.

The truth was that the conversation was constantly replaying in your head; The conversation, the bitterness and manipulation, every time you thought about it it then made you think of every other time that something like this happened.

Maybe your childhood wasn't as great as you really thought?

"Okay then... Is there anything that you want to talk about?" The blonde questioned, hoping for a bit more of an insight on your mood; Returning from her own rehab session, the entire car ride had been quiet compared to normal and the older woman couldn't help but feel something wasn't right.

"Nope," You stood firm in your reply, shaking your head as you kept your eyes glued on the TV screen; You couldn't really say that you payed much attention to whatever it was, the noise was pretty much a blur that was playing in the background.

"Are you sure?" Leah questioned, frowning worriedly as she took note of the tears welling up in your eyes. "Kidda, what's the matter? You look like you're gonna cry." she stated.

"I... I'm fine," You mumbled, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay until you could escape to your bedroom and allow yourself to be vulnerable and alone. You'd always felt complete shame to show any sort of vunterability in front of anyone, let alone the blonde footballer who'd virtually taken you under her wing ever since you joined during the transfer break of 2022.

You'd always been told that crying showed weakness and you refused to be seen as weak.

"Okay," Leah was quick to drop the subject when she realised you weren't going to open and talk about things. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it but just remember that I'm always here to listen. Anytime that you want too, alright?" she told you.

Unfortunately you were stubborn to not give in and blurt everything out in the open. You were just trying to wrap your head around the idea of things and see things for how they really were.

"Uh huh," You mumbled a response as you got up from the sofa and trudged in the direction of your bedroom.

Leah exhaled a sigh as she shook her head, herself heading into the kitchen to make a start on dinner. The woman knew better than to try and get you to talk if you didn't want too.

She'd always been around to witness the moments like this and the backlash of it. Of course the blonde knew this was all stemmed down to one person causing you to be like this and she hated that you were left upset every single time.

Every single time you and your mum fought, you'd always ended up quiet and in a bad mood, often resulting in lashing out at people around you as a coping mechanism.

None of the girls ever took it to heart, they were old enough to realise that none of your anger was directly aimed at them and there was bigger issues to be dealt with.

The Arsenal women all had their own opinions on the teens' mother but they would never voice them out loud to you. It wouldn't be fair on the youngest in the squad even after the countless times they had seen the girl upset by her own mums actions.

Ever since the teen had moved in, there had been several nights where Leah would be the one to comfort the girl and pick up the peices, waking up in the middle of the night to hear the teen's heartbroken sobs and feeling her own heart shatter every single time, wanting nothing more than take away any sort of pain the girl was experiencing.

It was heartbreaking for all of the team to witness and always sought out to comfort the teen no matter the situation. They knew that no matter they say, they couldn't stop her contacting her and she would be able to make her own decision soon enough when she turned 18 and until then they'd be the ones' to pick up the broken pieces when the mum let her daughter down.

They were your family, not by blood but by choice. You'd probably be lost without them sometimes.

"I... I should have realised sooner," You thought to yourself as you lay crumpled up on your bed that following night, it was almost near 4 in the morning and you were still wide awake with things racing through your head.

You couldn't help but think about things, how you should have noticed the tell-tail signs of her gaslighting you were old enough to properly realise, that was your first mistake.

Your second being that you believed her manipulation, she would always twist things to make her seem like the victim in all different situations - back when you were a child and even now as an adult.

How long it had taken you finally realise it after all of these years. Why hadn't you realised it sooner?

Without realising, you were sobbing aloud as you clutched on to your pillow tightly - the pent up anger was replaced by complete sadness and loss. You only ever wanted the approval of your mum about things and you fought so hard for it.

The phone call, the hopeful seal of approval...  Every time it always seemed to be the same type of emotions when you spoke to your mum - It was a vicious cycle of emotional abuse, or so you'd been told from other people and you never wanted to believe it.

Only problem was that you'd not been able to see it yourself, even if it was clear as day. Even if regardless of a psychological therapist telling you this, you refused to believe them words. Nor your team mates, who had realised it the first time they had the chance to meet her and even then you wouldn't listen or hear them out.

It was your mum, your flesh and blood so how could she be like that? You had never been able to wrap your head around it.

The sound of sobs were what woke Leah up, she was quick to pad out of her bedroom and down the hall to where your bedroom was. "Kidda?" The women pushed the door open and her heart cracked to see you looking so distraught and vulnerable.

The blonde was quick to move to be right beside you, she was always the one to comfort you and she wouldn't ever stop doing that as long as you needed her.

"Hey, kidda. Come here," The blonde scooped you up in her arms and rocked you all while she ran her slender fingers through your messy bedhead. "You're okay. I'm here," she reassured you.

Leah was always patient enough to wait for you to calm down before she gave you the chance to speak, she wouldn't ever push you to talk if you didn't want too.

"L... Le," You cried aloud as you clutched onto her. You breath became shaky as sobs wracked your body.

"I'm here, it's okay," Leah spoke calmly, continuing to try and comfort you the best way she knew but she already knew it was going to be a long night ahead of them - An emotional night that would leave you drained tomorrow.

A vicious cycle of on a loop.

"Ready to tell me what's going on inside that head of yours, huh?" The blonde tried to carefully ask.

There was another brief pause of silence, nothing but the quiet sobs coming from you as the blonde continued to comfort you and reassure you that she was here and not leaving you.

To Leah's surprise, you did open up this time around, even if you didn't mean too.

"I should have realised. I should have... I should have realised," You made the mistake to speak aloud rather than think it like you thought you had.

"You should have realised what, kidda?" Leah questioned, confused about what you meant.

You snap your head in the blondes' direction as you bit your bottom lip, debating whether to be open with your thoughts that you tried so hard to keep buried inside.

"About my mum... I should have realised," You repeated your words as you fought the tears from spilling. "She's so... She's so-- Why does everything I tell her, why does it always get turned back around so it's about her?" That was it. You blurted out your own feelings - There was no hiding how you felt anymore.

Leah smiled sympathetically and moved onto the sofa to sit closer to you, wrapping her free arm around your shoulder to comfort you, "I... I don't know kidda," she spoke honestly.

"So many people, so many people have told me-- They've warned me about her but I have... I never wanted to listen," You confessed, the tears openly rolled down your cheeks and you probably looked a right blubbering mess but you couldn't stop your emotions pouring out. "And now... Now I finally realise how it's always been. Why is she like that, Le?" You asked.

"I can't say I know the answer to that one kidda, I wish I knew," Leah replied, exhaling a sigh as she couldn't fathem herself how a mother could be like that with her own child, she felt so much for the girl and always wished she could make the situation better for her. "Listen, I know it's hard but you've got us. All of us girls here at Arsenal and you're so loved by all of us." she told you.

"I... I just want her to love me, and she just... she doesn't even care about my feelings!" You stated, roughly wiping at your tear stained cheeks angrily to the point that you made them red. "Why does she always throw everything back in my face? Everything that I have ever done, she's always made it about her... Always!" you cried.

"I know, I know it hurts... I know it does," You kept your head buried in the blondes' chest as you hiccuped from the sudden breakdown in the middle of the night. "And I am sorry that you have to go through this. It's not fair on you kidda." Leah added, biting her bottom lip.

All of emotion had led you feeling exhausted in the end, you fought it hard to keep your eyes open as you lay slumped against the blonde woman.

"Come on let's get you back into bed, yeah? I mean you're almost falling asleep on me here, kidda," Leah joked with you, hoping for you to even crack a small smile as she gently moved you back to your bed and tucked you in under the duvet. "I'm so sorry you have had to deal with the kidda but you know you have a family here with us. We may not be blood but we really love you kidda." You heard the faint words spoken to you as you felt your eye lids close, completely warn out.

Sure, the Arsenal women weren't family by blood but instead they were family by choice and that was more important. They were there for you whenever you needed them and you knew you felt safe with them around. You truly felt happy with your chosen family.

[toffee-and-tandoori]

i’ve been reflecting on that tweet/article about esteban’s switch to williams being blocked by alpine over the course of this hungarian gp weekend and i am truly disgusted and angered at what alpine has been trying to pull with esteban this year. let me explain. and buckle in because it’s gonna be a long one.

[disclaimer i will not be touching on the logan and james vowles of it all in this post but i will say this: i wish him the best in his career and personally i would just let him finish out the season without worrying about his seat being taken at any moment.]

[also i want to use this bit to sincerely thank @macaiv @promiscuousasexual @lafaerie @pinkcarsupremacy @oconist and @starlightiing for their help with source gathering and proofreading - i truly could not have done this without you <3]

first of all, i think it’s important to clear up the misconception that esteban was “fired” by alpine. as the original statement reads, alpine and esteban AGREED to part ways for 2025. let’s also remember there were claims even before alpine launched their 2024 livery that BOTH esteban and pierre were looking for alternatives. and of course, esteban was quick to point out his mercedes ties. i think it’s clear that esteban was not planning to stay with alpine after 2024. but don’t feel like you’re at fault for thinking that esteban was “fired” - that’s exactly what alpine wanted you to think. they have never corrected this assumption because it benefits them.

now let me be clear here and say that esteban was at fault for monaco 2024 - he absolutely shouldn’t have done what he did and accordingly he took responsibility for it. however, the magnitude of vitriol directed at esteban for a lap one error (which can and does happen to any driver) was excessive and disproportionate. first of all let’s remember that in that exact same race, kevin literally crashed out himself, his teammate, AND checo but was completely overlooked by the public. and far more importantly, no one deserves death threats, racism, and xenophobia. it got to the point that he published a statement on instagram asking for the hate to stop and if you know esteban, you know that he does not speak up for himself like that. ever. 

and how did alpine respond to the hate directed at their driver after monaco? three blue heart emojis. no statement condemning the hate. no statement extending their support for esteban. just three blue heart emojis. oh and the formal announcement of esteban leaving the team, propelling a new wave of hate. convenient timing for alpine, don’t you think?

to fully dissect how the false narrative about how “esteban is a horrible teammate” and is “always hyperfocused on beating and crashing into them” and how “no one on the grid likes him” is a product of racism (due to his algerian heritage), classism (due to his family’s working class status), and f1 media needing a “villain” to editorialize the spectacle of f1, i would need a whole other post. not to mention that esteban has been paired with very accomplished drivers throughout his whole career and has performed roughly equal to all of them; unfortunately for him almost all of esteban’s teammates are drivers who are the primary representative of their country and therefore have very large and very nationalistic fanbases, which has typically amplified the hate. but i’ll say this. of the clashes with his previous teammates, esteban was to blame for two of them in the past seven years [baku 2017 and monaco 2024]; checo was recognized to be responsible for three [belgium 2017, hungary 2017, and singapore 2018]; fernando was recognized to be responsible for one [brazil 2022] ; pierre was recognized to be responsible for one[australia 2023, a racing incident but esteban is known to have vouched for pierre in the stewards meeting so he could avoid a race ban]. individuals on the grid who are said to currently have a “strong dislike” for esteban have had kind words for him in recent years: fernando and max. esteban also is clearly friendly with a number of the drivers: lance, mick, jack, oscar, nico, kevin, lewis, fernando, max, charles, guanyu.

this narrative began in 2018 and has only grown with the explosion in f1’s popularity in large part due to “drive to survive”, a highly-editorialized show that has capitalized on this perception of esteban in their most recent season. and although esteban has been affiliated with lotus/renault/alpine since 2010 (literally since he was 14 years old - about half of his life), they have never once tried to publicly show support for their driver in response to hate. their social media pages have been filled pure hatred directed at esteban for years yet they have never said a thing. almost all of alpine’s team principals and executives have never truly given esteban the respect he deserves: rossi, szafnauer, famin. yet esteban has largely stayed silent through it all. 

but when esteban finally chose to prioritize himself over the team he has been loyal to for over a decade, alpine chose to weaponize the narrative they allowed to take root.

those may remember a claim that james vowles was not considering esteban for a williams seat because of his “history of aggressive behavior against his teammates”. there was never a direct quote from james saying this but we do have video of him defending esteban after monaco. 

but now this tweet/article suggests that both james vowles and esteban were interested in a move to williams that was blocked by alpine because they were concerned that esteban could help williams in the constructors. it was initially assumed that alpine wanted this move to happen because they wanted to get rid of esteban so badly. so why didn’t they correct this assumption? why did they release the formal announcement of esteban leaving the team when the hate reached heights not previously seen before? because they knew it would weaken esteban’s position in the driver’s market. and even still, esteban has been actively sought out by haas and audi in addition to williams. he has been praised by many team principals of past and present: james vowles, fred vasseur, toto wolff, eddie jordan. esteban remains a well-respected driver in the paddock...much to alpine’s chagrin. 

i truly believe that alpine tried to take advantage of esteban’s reputation (a reputation that they have never tried to mitigate) to try to fuck over his market value...and failed. they effectively attempted to sabotage esteban's future in f1. it is truly deplorable of them to do this, especially with the driver who’s been with the project for 14 years and is their first (and so far only) victor in their current iteration. and if you think that it would be truly horrendous of a team to do that to one of their drivers, remember that alpine has done this to fernando, to oscar, and to kevin. not to mention the disrespect they showed to jolyon and to alain.

the bwt alpine f1 team has truly lost all of my respect with what they’ve done this year. and they barely had any of it in the first place.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

The disrespect toward indigenous peoples is what popped put at me today in one of your posts. I wonder how long the English have been looking down on the Welsh. We're the Saxons like that or is it the Normans who really thought they were better than everyone else. Cause it seems like it goes back a long way.

Oh, both, just in different ways. The Normals were imperialist, the Saxons were more theft and landgrab.

Something that makes me want to start hurling knives is the INCREDIBLY COMMON English myth that the Anglo-Saxons were a sweet innocent indigenous British people who were conquered and bullied by those mean nasty Normans (and Vikings), and because the Normans came over via France, that means everything was actually THEIR fault, and the true English i.e. the Anglo-Saxons, were victims too :(

When I say it's incredibly common, by the way, I really mean it. Enormous numbers of modern day English people believe this. I've seen BBC programs about the Viking invasions that claimed without a trace of irony that the Vikings would take slaves from "the native Anglo-Saxons". I've literally had English people comment this shit on posts of mine about Celtophobia and Welsh history. Like I'm there describing how the last Prince of Wales was locked in a wooden cage in Bristol Castle at the age of eight and lived out the remainder of his life there until his fifties so the Welsh would know their place, and some snivelling English cunt will straight up write a message going "Teehee really it was the Normans not the English though and they conquered the poor Anglo-Saxons too, poor England uwu"

Anyway in the dying days of the Roman empire in Britain one of the leading reasons for Rome abandoning Britannia was the constant waves of Anglo-Saxon invaders. There were so many the east coast of Britain became known as the Saxon Shore. There were so many the Romans built a line of forts that were and are literally called Saxon Shore Forts. There were so many that an official, historically documented, paid governmental position in Roman Britain was the Count of the Saxon Shore, i.e. the guy responsible for keeping the bastards out.

Rome had banned native military, of course, so when they then withdrew and took the armies with them, the people left had no defences against the incoming waves of Angles, Saxons and Jutes. England fell pretty quickly, Angles in the north, Saxons in the south, Jutes primarily in the east, I believe. What stopped their westward expansion was the Brythonic Celtic nations living in modern day Wales. And this is the origin of the Welsh dragon - those separate kingdoms needed a banner that united them, and represented Not Saxon. An anti-Saxon force. They chose a red dragon.

This is also the origin of King Arthur. An anti-Saxon king of the Brythons, who would repel these Germanic invaders. (It was several centuries later that England realised they should probably steal the term 'British', because otherwise they were marking themselves as 'not native'.)

Anyway the saving grace of the Anglo-Saxons in the end was actually that they were whiny little bitches who gave up trying to fight in Wales with its difficult mountains and fought each other instead. The whole sorry tale of the Heptarchy is the various Anglo-Saxon kingdoms fighting like cats in a bag, while Saxon king Offa built a dyke along the Welsh border and went "WELL YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OVER HERE" and every Welsh king went "...we literally didn't want to conquer you anyway, you spectacularly sad and stupid man"

Oh, and of course, there's the name 'Wales'. Given to us specifically by the Anglo-Saxons. And translated by centuries of English scholars, mostly very smugly, as 'foreigners'. A fun bit of early propaganda, look - foreigners in our own country that they tried and failed to steal.

All of which is a circuitous way of saying - yeah, it goes way back.

[mochinomnoms]

This is a very specific thing I said to my friends so if they follow your blog then they would know who I am but the whole thing of buy one get two free deal came from something that is common in my country where in local bazaars they sell these showering kits that came with shampoo, conditioner and a bottle of liquid soap my mind clearly infected with twst could only think about the octotrio being one of these packages Azul is the soap, and the twins are the shampoo and conditioner and the three of the products are wrapped with tape so you are forced to get the three which is oddly cute to me but onto the main thing!

Came up with another octotrio polycule idea since yuu represents a shrimp in Floyd's weird lenses of seeing the world sometimes if done intentionally or not you tend to clean up the twins or patch them up even fixing up their (poorly put on) uniform Jade got dirt in his face when he was in a mountain trip? Come here you careless eel and wipe out the dirt then you can talk about your new findings BUT WASH YOUR HANDS FIRST

Floyd decided to do parkour or maybe he just dumped a whole smoothie on himself because he was hot and used the drink to cool off and there you go, disinfect the wounds or scratches and putting silly cute band-aids (one time he got mad that his favorite design was out and you placed a mushroom design band aid since he still needed one, remind yourself to go stack up with the band-aids before Jade goes and sniffles about his dear brother using his favorite band-aids)

I am thinking that since the twins are a bit much more affectionate or aren't as busy as Azul is, you are doing one of your "Nurse/cleaner shirmp" (Floyd gave them the name) on one of the tweels and you guys were in Azul's office so he sighs trying to get attention he wishes that he also got his own nurse/cleaner shirmp affections if he doesn't say it out loud he can and will break his pen/ink flask and oh no! His gloves are completely ruined!! Clearly coaxing you into helping him with the mess or when he does voice his wishes about it when you two/three are present the tweels are quick to tease him about it "I thought that octopuses didn't go to cleaner shrimp stations?" or "Would you be able to provide protection in exchange? I thought that octopuses weren't predators" Okay that was rude, it is on. Of course that he can protect the shrimpy and if octopuses didn't go to cleaner shirmp stations then he would change that! Overall silliness and sweetness (They are having a discussion about planning to surprise you with a visit to the coral sea and going to visit their parents!!) they might turn almost anything into a friendly/loving competition and you are trapped in them but they are still so sweet and caring for you and each other 10/10 definitely a unique dynamic but awesome either way

(the same anon forcing their brain to fabricate more octotrio polycule ideas)

I think Floyd takes the most delight in seeing you care for them like an actual shrimp. He thinks it's endearing and will definitely make efforts to get dirty or mildly hurt so that you'll attend to him.

The other two have their own nicknames for you: Jade calls you and Azul My Pearl/Darling while Azul calls you Angelfish and the twins Dear(s).

It's Azul's way of showing affection, as he is quite reserved with his affections, at least until you're all in private. He does envy the liberal affections that the twins have with you, Floyd in particular doesn't care much about what others think, and Jade generally is more reserved than his brother, but will still give you chaste kisses when saying hello/goodbye. Azul, at most, will hold hands and maybe tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ears, something he often does during quiet moments.

It may be silly, but he gets a little jealous at seeing y'all share PDA when he's still getting used to the new dynamic. So he's coaxing you to come help him clean up! Look at his hands, they're absolutely stained with ink! Won't you please help him clean up Angelfish? 🥺

It backfires as the twins also take the opportunity to “care” for Azul. Instead of letting you fuss over him quickly, they decide that this is a sign that he's much too tired to continue working, look at the mess he made! It's time to close his office early and cuddle pile in his bedroom!! Jade's making the extra effort to run a bath in the absurdly large tub in Azul's private bathroom, while Floyd is running around collecting pillows and blankets to make a nest/fort. You do your do diligence and help Jade tend to him, causing him to get more and more flustered.

The night ends with the twins teasing the silly little octopus for wanting some tending from the shrimp. They're complaining that he never asks for affection like that from them!!! Eels can be gentle too, we promise Azul~

[txttletale]

yo i really like your content and agree with you on most things but i don't really know what you mean with that last one. my friends from ukraine both oppose the war's existence but would rather not be violently annexed by an imperial power so of course they, with little other options, support resistance efforts.

it's really hard for me to understand what you're going for because if ukraine stopped fighting back it'd just get taken by russia. maybe i just have bad brainfog, but it's hard to understand what you're asking us to do and believe. should we try and take out both the russian and american imperialist powers at once? but that's unrealistic and unlikely to happen in the near future, no matter how much i personally support it, which i do.

i guess my question is, what's an actual realistic thing we should support in the meantime? we can't just pretend that somehow revolution will take out both american and russian imperialist interests immediately, so. it's like, well yes we should have a better world playing by better rules, but how do we do the right thing when we are bound by the rules now.

i have friends who have family who died in the war, and sometimes it feels like bloggers i otherwise trust say things that sound suspiciously close to "ukraine should stop this pointless fighting and give up." which i am aware isn't your intention, and i want to be an effective anti imperialist and have the correct and informed opinions on stuff like this, but i am having a very hard time understanding what you are trying to say.

i really promise i am not a concern troll or nato apologist or anything, i just also have personally been struggling with what to support and how to save innocent lives. i hate war and i wish we could magically create a situation in which ukraine didn't have to rely on horrible things for self defense. i just don't know what to do or believe because my friends would rightfully hate me if i said ukraine should stop defending itself.

i mean, first off: don't worry, you obviously don't sound like a concern troll or a nato apologist. this is an eminently reasonable question -- healed's law strikes again. & i certainly don't blame you for worrying that marxist-leninists are apologists for russian imperialism, because unfortunately many self-proclaimed marxist-leninists have been deceived by the frankly paper-thin figleaf of 'denazificaiton'--even as putin, puppet of the russian bourgeoisie denounces lenin & the bolsheviks & the soviet union with every speech he makes. it sucks!

first of all, i think the important thing here and the central point of disagreement is on what constitutes 'ukraine'. liberals and nationalists alike consider nations to be fundamentally one whole: that all the people of ukraine together constitute 'ukraine', and so 'ukraine as a whole' has consistent interests, and acts as a one--the ukrainian government represents this unitary ukraine armed forces of ukraine fight for this ukraine.

but the marxist analysis of the nation is completely different. from the marxist perspective, the nation is split across class lines. ukraine is not 'ukrainians', but in fact 'the ukrainian working class' and 'the ukrainian bourgeoisie'. now, of course, there are further contradictions even within these classes--there is a faction of pro-Russian bourgeoisie, and a faction of pro-Western bourgeoisie. but remember, we must apply the same analysis to these countries too: the 'pro-Russian' Ukrainian bourgeoisie do not wish to submit to Russia's working class, but to their oligarchs. the 'pro-Western' Ukrainian bourgeoisie are not opening the nation's economy to the European and USAmerican working class, but to their bourgeoisie. so the bourgeoisie are, in every case--even when split among themselves--only ever in league with other sectors of the bourgeoisie.

so, through this lens, how do we see the war in ukraine? well, i think that the union of communists in ukraine must have a far better handle on this than i, because they're living through it: so i will quote their analysis and then elucidate on it in relation to your question.

The puppet regime in Ukraine participates in this war in the interests of Ukrainian oligarchs, who have made themselves completely dependent on big capital of the West and NATO, who have turned the Ukrainian army into an advanced military unit of the Western bourgeoisie. The war is not about "the Ukrainian nation," not about "the Ukrainian language and culture," not even about "European values". It is a war for the united interests of the Ukrainian and international bourgeoisie, which coincide in their desire to destroy the economic and political power of the Russian bourgeoisie. No interests or rights of Ukrainian workers are protected by this war. Both Ukrainian and Russian workers in this war have only the right and obligation to go to the front and die so that one group of the world bourgeoisie defeats the other and gains more monopoly rights to oppress the workers, both in their own country and in the defeated countries. […] For the working class of Ukraine, this imperialist war has the most tragic consequences. It lies on the shoulders of the workers the role of "cannon fodder" and the inevitable deaths in the fighting, mass impoverishment, unemployment, complete restrictions of rights and freedoms for the sake of protecting the interests of the Ukrainian big bourgeoisie, the oligarchs and the interests of the Western bourgeoisie in destroying and robbing Russia and seizing its natural resources. This will inevitably be accompanied by the destruction and seizure of Ukrainian industrial and natural resources, including in the case of Russia's success. The same fate awaits the vast majority of the Ukrainian petty bourgeoisie. The big bourgeoisie has already bought its children out of the war and taken them abroad, just as it took its capitals out. But that is not the main point: the big bourgeoisie is profiting from the war under Zelensky, just as it profited under Poroshenko: stealing finances, making money from reselling weapons, supplying the army with uniforms, food, repair work, humanitarian aid, etc. In war the bourgeoisie makes billions of dollars, while the mobilized people have to be equipped and fed by relatives, friends and volunteers – which is clearly not enough. As in peacetime, but even more brazenly, the bourgeoisie is getting rich off the bones of the working class!

—Union of Communists of Ukraine, On the War and the tasks of the working class

that is to say--the russian army, which is funded by the russian bourgeoisie, is fighting to establish the exclusive right of that russian bourgeoisie to oppress and exploit the ukrainian people. meanwhile, the ukrainian army, funded by the ukrainian and western bourgeoisie more broadly, are fighting to maintain the exclusive right of the ukrainian and western to oppress and exploit the ukrainian people. already, ukrainian public assets are being put up in a fire sale for western buyers--(and of course, should russia's offensive have been as succesful as they'd hoped and this war already over, they'd be doing much the same thing for the benefit of buyers among the russian bourgeoisie).

this is what is meant by 'inter-imperialist' war. it's easy to say 'well, the ukrainian army isn't imperialist--it's fighting for the nation's independence!' but in terms of real economic interests there is no 'the nation'. the ukrainian army isn't fighting for the ukrainian working class (which of course includes themselves!)--the government that pays them and the states that equip them wouldn't do so out of any sense of interest in the well-being of the working class. we can see this clearly as the western imperialist powers now start to equip the ukrainian army with depleted uranium shells, which will poison swathes of ukrainian land and cause sickness and death among the people this army purports to be fighting for. the goal of the ukrainian state and army isn't to protect any working class people--only to protect its total right to the economic exploitation of those people.

it's this that the ukrainian state is afraid of when it fights not to cede territory, not the (surely real, to be clear!) brutality from the russian state that would face the inhabitants of any such ceded territory. in fact, funding nazi groups that operated in those areas before the war and will surely continue to operate afterwards, the ukrainian govenrment makes it clear that brutality against the inhabitants of its eastern provinces alone does not phase it, so long as the ukrainian bourgeoisie (& their western bourgeoisie patrons) continue to be the ones profiting off the region's people and resources.

elsewhere in the article the UCU observe the same thing that can be observed by those outside of ukraine by listening to the words of zelenskyy and the ukrainian government's allies--that even the goal of 'protecting its people' [read: protecting exclusive economic/extractive access to those people] has been sidelined by the dream of a total or partial obliteration of the russian bourgeoisie entirely--not for any moral or anti-imperialist reason, but simply so that the ukrainian/western bourgeoisie no longer have competition.

[...] the goals of warfare are changing. If at the first stage of the civil conflict the Ukrainian regime aimed to restore state control over the Ukrainian territories, where this control was lost, then at the second stage it aimed to destroy Russia as a condition for the existence of Ukraine.

—ibid.

so--now that i've really dug into the precise nature of this war and why it's being waged on both sides, i'll answer some of your points directly:

if ukraine stopped fighting back it'd just get taken by russia "ukraine should stop this pointless fighting and give up."

both of these positions, both the one you hold yourself and the one you worry about others expressing, assume that what the ukrainian armed forces with NATO backing and full-throated embrace of fascist paramilitaries is doing constitutes 'ukraine' 'fighting back' against 'russia'. but it doesn't--it represents the ukrainian bourgeoisie fighting back against the russian bourgeoisie.

so, the big question--do i think that the ukrainian proletariat should abandon armed resistance against the russian invasion? absolutely not!

genuine popular resistance against the russian invasion is heroic and commendable--i am under no belief whatsoever that in the face of imperialist war the ukrainian people should not arm themselves and fight against the imperialists. i just reject the framing of the actual war as prosecuted as constituting this, because, to go back to what i've already established, there is not in fact one 'ukraine' but two--only one of which constitutes in a mieaningful sense the ukrainian people. i don't believe (and neither do the UCU, whose analysis i base mine on somewhat) that 'the war' as you ponder 'supporting' constitutes the ukrainian proletariat arming themselves or fighting against imperialism on their own behalf, but rather being armed by the bourgeoisie and fighting on their behalf.

and obviously i'm not an idiot who's blind to the actual numerial and material realities. the communist, anti-imperialist movement in ukraine, just like in most of the world, is completely dwarfed by imperialism and its footsoldiers. 'the ukrainian proletariat as self-armed acting organization rising up and challenging both imperialisms and freeing itself from both sets of bourgeoisie' is not something that's gonna happen tomorrow, and it's not an immediately actionable plan--no ukrainian communist can wake up tomorrow and say 'well, today i shall hit the big proletarian revolution button'.

the realities are that as the meeting ground between two imperialisms, ukrainian communists have to make decisions about which one they can most ably fight, might need to temporarily align themselves with or allow themselves to benefit from the ukrainian bourgeoise state--but never support it. like any bourgeoise state, a communist should know the ukrainian state is an enemy of the proletariat. yes, the pressing material realities on the ground might well make cooperation with that bourgeoise state the best temporary option--but 'cooperation' should never mean 'support' or 'loyalty', and should be done only tactically with ultimately loyalties remaining above all else with the working class.

in fact, refusing to offer the government and army a show of support and valorization is a key element of creating the conditions--radicalization, agitation--that would allow the proletariat to effectively rise up and truly combat imperialism, rather than choose under which imperialist heel they would rather be ground into dust. don't support an end to the war on either imperialist bloc's terms, but rather on proletarian terms--understand that the state of ukraine is not on the side of the ukrainian people, except tangentially, in individual moments of necessary alliance. raise awareness of the true war, the class war, and resist the ukrainian state's claims to stand with the people when it pursues the interests of the bourgeoisie.

tldr: the anti-imperialist position is not that the ukrainian proletariat should not be fighting, or that their fight is not worth supporting. the anti-imperialist action, therefore, is to draw the most awareness possible to this division within 'ukraine' among the working class themselves, make them aware of the realities of the economic condition. this is of course the foremost anti-imperialist and communist task across the entire world, because it is only through creating organizations of the working class that will fight for the working class can international imperialism be dfeated.

i'll leave this answer off by adding what the UCU said about this very topic in the same statement i've been quoting:

We understand the complexity and danger of these tasks, which inevitably cause repression on the part of the bourgeois political regimes. That is why workers' and communist organizations will need to develop illegal forms of class struggle along with legal ones in order to set and implement such tasks. The UCU has been forced to conduct its work in illegal forms since 2014. Many workers' and communist organizations may consider these antiwar tasks impossible because of their organizational weakness and lack of influence on the working class. However, historical experience shows that a correct and honest formulation of the tasks of the working class in conditions of war – real, not momentary tasks – may not yield success immediately, but will yield gains as the revolutionary situation intensifies. Since the task of destroying capitalist social relations is an international task, the international coordination of workers' and communist parties' actions, including the joint elaboration of tasks for the struggle against the imperialist war of the twenty-first century for the sake of uniting the international struggle against this war, for a communist reorganization of society and world peace, is becoming increasingly important. Proletarians of all countries, unite! 

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Black Reader - My Heart Belongs To You

+18

I have a new crush, and it's my job to force him upon you too. 🤭🙈

Reader is in Paris trying to book another modeling gig. While there she takes her time to meet up with her long distance boyfriend Gabriel Medina, who has just secured a bronze medal in surfing at the Paris Olympics.

Enjoy!

You were late. Very late. Your heels clicked against the stone covered streets in Paris in search of a bar called La République. You had never heard of such a bar, and you knew Paris. Either way, it's where your boyfriend, Gabriel, told you to meet up with him and his friends. And by friends, he meant the entire Brazilian olympic squad.

"Y/N, you made it!"

The people in the bar, along with Gabriel, turned their heads upon your arrival. You stepped through the door, recognizing neither of the dozen faces staring back at you. Except for Rebeca Andrade. The Olympic gymnast whom you may or may not have cheered for like a maniac after witnessing her gold winning floor routine the other day. You were a big fan. The biggest. If it wasn't for your early career in modeling, you would have begged your parents to sign you up for gymnastics instead.

"Can I kiss you?" Gabriel grinned. "Or would that ruin your makeup?"

"No, it wouldn't. And It's actually the way we normally greet each other in—"

You were brought back. Gabriel catching the back of your head in his hand, tilting your body backward before planting a lingering kissing on your lips. It was swift but sweet, laced with a longing for you.

"Come on," He whispered as he pulled you back. "Let me introduce you to everyone."

Gabriel draped an arm around your shoulders, shuffling you towards the bundle of athletes having a laugh and drinking beer. "Everyone, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, meet everyone."

You waved awkwardly. "Hi everyone."   

Despite their reassuring smiles, you couldn't help but feel a bit out of place. You were most definitely overdressed for such a gathering. La République was more or less a dive bar. Most of the athletes, including Gabriel, looked fresh off the field, wearing colorful tracksuits, sporting the Brazilian flag. You, on the other hand, wore lavish leather pants, a designer bag, and shoes to match. You had just come from a whole day of modeling castings here in Paris. And frankly, your feet were killing you. However, Gabriel insisted you'd come tonight. He was so excited to show off his bronze medal in surfing. Although he wanted nothing more than to bring home the gold, just getting to represent his home country at such a major event was truly what drove him. You really admired him for that. Really, really admired him...

"Você sabe... Gabriel não conseguia parar de falar sobre você enquanto estávamos fora." (You know... Gabriel couldn't stop talking about you while we were away.)

"Huh?"

You snapped out your mesmerized trans. You were watching Gabriel as he stood across from you in the bar, laughing with his friends over a pint of beer. A woman with bleached blonde hair appeared before you, her blue eyes regarding you curiously. You were caught fantasizing about your boyfriend.

"I'm sorry." You blushed.

"It's all good. The name is Tatiana." She offered a hand for you to shake. "I was with Gaby surfing in Tahiti."

"Of course you were. Nice to finally meet you."

"Don't mind me." She grinned and moved to stand next to you, joining the admiration of your boyfriend.

His brimming smile lit up the whole room, along with his new found tanned skin and voluminous dark locks.

"Ele é um exibicionista, não é?" (He's such a show off, isn't he?) Tatiana laughed. Her brazilian accent was thick. But not as thick as other people in the bar, some whom you failed to understand a word of what they were saying. Especially after a few drinks.

"We all wanted Gaby to win the gold. Turns out he has the real prize at home."

"He does?"

"Yeah, it's you."

"Me?"

She smiled. "Like I said, he wouldn't stop going on about you while we were staying in Tahiti. João even tells me that you guys were FaceTiming a lot. So much that he was forced to sleep outside of his and Gaby's shared hotel room one night.

"Oh." Instant heat dabbed your cheeks.

"Don't worry." Tatiana laughed. "We all love it for him. Gaby deserves to have someone like you, someone who makes him happy again. However, it's been a long time since I've seen him this happy."

It was true. Gabriel told you about the dark period in his life going through a nasty divorce with his ex-wife. After only two years of marriage.

"We all worried for Gaby during this time." Tatiana reminisced. "It really fucked him mentally, affecting the way he surfed and his motivation to even surf."

"It did?"

"Yes. Luckily he met you."

You admired her for telling you this. For telling you how happy Gabriel was with your relationship. Believe it or not, but you hadn't seen Gabriel for six months while he was preparing to go to Tahiti, where the olympic surfing events were being held. During this time, the two of you had to settle for late night FaceTime calls, while he was all the way over in Brazil and you in Portugal, where you were originally from. A tormenting time for the two of you, having just gotten used to juggling your busy careers.

Being in a long-distance relationship really didn't make things easier. Sometimes, you thought Gabriel should go for a girl more like Tatiana, a surfer. Then a girl like you, making a living traveling the world, rushing through the streets of luxurious cities just to get your face on the cover of some fashion magazine.

"Either way, I just wanted to let you know how happy Gaby was when you told him that you were coming to see him in Paris. We all had to endure an early flight from Tahiti just to shut him up. I'm still hungover from the olympic medal ceremony."

"Right, congratulations." Tatiana got silver for her performance in the women's individual surfing, making it two surfing medals for Brazil.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." She shook your hand once more. "I hope to see you soon."

The two of you were left acquainted, her kind words restoring your mood for the reminder of the night. You had a good time with Gabriel and his friends. At the end of the night, you even managed to slip Rebeca a used napkin to sign her autograph on. The expression on her face was priceless. However, you were never throwing that napkin away.

"Don't you want my autograph?" Gabriel said, seeing how you victoriously waved the napkin around the streets of Paris. He was walking you back to your hotel, your hand held tightly in his.

"No. Why would I want that?"

"Ouch." He clenching his heart with his hand. "I thought my girlfriend would be more proud to see me more than any other athlete."

"Oh, baby. Don't tell me you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" He snorted. "Of a stained napkin with some gold medalist autograph scribbled down on it?"

"Some gold medalist?"

You stopped in your tracks. Gabriel turned to you, unsuccessfully hiding the twitch of his lips. "Okay, fine...." He sighed. "Of course I'm jealous. While you were at it, you should have gotten me an autograph. I love Rebeca. She's amazing."

"Right! God, I wish I could flip in the air like she can."

"You should try."

"And break my neck during the attempt. I don't think so."

"Not on land." He laughed. "I meant in the water. Like I do with my surfboard."

"Yeah, it's still a no for me."

"I could teach you."

"How? I would die."

"Nah." He pulled your arm, tugging you towards him. "You'd be in safe hands." Gabriel wrapped his arms around your waist, craddling your body by pulling you close. Your back against his front. For a moment, you remained like that. Hugging in the street.

You stood in the middle of the Champs-Élysées boulevard. Now abandoned. The luxurious shops that decorated the streets displayed some of the world's most expensive fashion collections. From stylish haute couture to flamboyant patterned handbags. Here, you found fashion giants like Dior and Louis Vuitton. Not to mention Saint Laurent, who you hoped to hear from after today's castings. It would be a dream come true to walk in one of their fashion shows one day.

"What are you thinking about?" Gabriel's lips pressed against your ear, his breath warm and welcoming.

"I really wish I could work here someday."

"Where, in Paris?"

"Mhmm."

Gabriel tilted his head regarding the manekins displayed in the window shop before you. To him, they were probably just that, manekins, wearing questionable outfits.

"You will." He whispered.

"Will what?"

"Work here some day." His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips finding your pulse. You sighed, surrendering to his soft kisses, tilting your head back against his shoulder. For a moment, you allowed his touch to distract you. To drift you away to a relm where time did not exist. Just the two of you. You and Gabriel. His rough hands roamed your body, easing their way down your stomach, his fingertips slipping under the belt of your leather pants.

"Wait!" You stiffened.

Gabriel pulled back to check on you. "What?"

"I need to get back to my hotel. I have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Erm...can I come?" He chuckled.

You stared at him blankly, pushing back the panic that rose within you.

"Y/N, is everything alright?"

You shook your head. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Well, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? You're going back to Brazil the day after tomorrow, that's what's wrong." You wiggled out of Gabriel's embrace, attempting to escape from him by making your way down the boulevard.

"Y/N, wait!" Gabriel rushed to catch up with you, a troubled expression on his face.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like what I said isn't the truth."

"That I'm going back to Brazil?" He frowned. "I thought I told you that over the phone."

"Well...if you're leaving so soon, why did you even bother coming to see me at all?"

"Y/N."

"Don't..." You took a step back, avoiding Gabriel's attempt to console you. You  hugged yourself tightly, the cold night nipping at your skin. "What's even the point of this, of us? I hate having to miss you. It hurts so much."

"It hurts me too." He mumbled. "Trust me, Y/N, I want nothing but to come home to you every night. To be committed to you in every way possible. But I...can't." He lowered his head. His feet shuffling something invisible on the ground. "Trust me." The night breeze stirring his dark locks. "I would... Marry you."

"Baby?" 

Gabriel's eyes were glossy, looking up at you. His lips trembling slightly. You stepped up to him. Your hands settled on each side of his face. He shut his eyes, allowing the tears to run down his cheeks. "I want to marry you. I will marry you someday. I just need to—"

"No."

His eyes reopened. "No?"

You shook your head. "No. Marriage is not what's important to me."

"No. What is then?"

"This." You shrugged. "Being here with you in the city of love. I just hate missing you  that's all."

Gabriel made the effort to dry his tears, lowering your hands from his face. "But we're in love, aren't we?"

"Is that a trick question?" You laughed. Gabriel, however, did not laugh.

"I love you, Y/N." His words sent a spark to your heart. "I love you because you make me the happiest I've ever been. I'm just afraid that I'll depend on you to make me happy all the time. I have to be able to feel happiness on my own, and until I can do that, I don't want us to rush into anything. It would mean making the same mistake as I've made before. And I really don't want to lose you too."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing yourself up on your toes in order to peck his lips. "Okay." You whispered, your lips brushing against his.

Gabriel's arms wrapped around your waist, his forehead settling against yours. "Can I take you back to your hotel now?"

"Yes, take me back."

He took you back to your hotel, the Eiffel Tower spotted from the outskirts of the window in your room. The window which Gabriel went to close the curtains, his naked silhouette reflected in the moonlight as he did. He then moved in the dark towards your bed. His hands pressed down on the sheets, tracing the outlines of your body.

"Meu coração." 

He crawled to lay on top of you, his hands finding your hips under the covers, and his mouth....his mouth found your lower ribs as he made his way upwards, tracing kisses until his lips pressed against your lips. His tongue warm against your mouth.

"I feel you, meu coração."

Your breath hitched as his hips grinded against your thigh. His erection growing stiff against your folds.

"Fuck, Y/N. I can feel you." He spoke against your mouth while his hands desperately nipped at the lace of your panties. It was the only pice of clothing you still had on.

"Do you feel me?"

Gabriel's rough hands ripped the seam of your panties. Tossing the piece of fabric in the corner somewhere. His hand then made its way between your legs, his fingers mercilessly creeping into you.

"Gabriel." You moaned, your mouth left open.

"Sssh." He hushed. "Just relax for me baby."

His cheek rested against your breast. He then turned his head and caught your nipple in his mouth, licking the hard pebble, sucking you dry.

"Please, baby. You're gonna make me come."

He hymned in response, his fingers still moving deeply inside of you.

"Shit." You squealed. To which Gabriel hushed you again. "I said I want to feel you, baby. Let me feel you come all over my hand."

"Gabriel, please." Your eyes squinted shut. Your chest heaving up and down.

"Yes baby. Let yourself go for me."

"Baby, I'm gonna....I'm gonna...."

"Yes, yes. Come all over my hand."

As he wished. You squirmed below him, feeling your walls clench around his fingers still curled up inside of you, pressing against the roof of your pussy.

"Baby." You bit his shoulder, dimming your squeals of pleasure.

"Fuck."

He said it. Not you. You were to busy melting into a pile of nothing.

"Was that good for you baby?"

"Gaby."

You nodded, eyelids drowsy. "Now you." You made the effort to sit up. However, Gabriel made sure to push you down with his weight. "Let me clean you up first."

There was no stopping him. He moved downwards, shifting to rest on his elbows with his hands raising your hips towards his face.

"Why do you always do this." You chuckled.

"Do what?" His eyes were foggy with lust, staring blankly at the feast that was presented before him.

"You make me come at least three times before I even get to touch you."

Gabriel shrugged. "What can I say, I like the sounds you make when I make you feel good."

"That's not—"

You gasped with the first swipe of his tounge. Gabriel licked your already sensitive clit, swollen from the previous round. Gabriel didn't mind, however. Devouring the mess he made out of you.

"There." He licked his lips. "All done."

"Fuck." Your head fell back against the pillows, your hand reaching for his head, running through his hair. "Mhhhm." You hymned. The hotel room filled with the sounds of Gabriel sucking and licking you clean. You came hard. A spasm of your muscles.

You watched him with your back against the headboard, curling a finger your way. "Come here."

Gabriel did what he was told, crawling towards you with a sly grin on his lips. He kissed you, opened mouthed. A kiss that went from sweet to filthy in a matter of seconds.

"God, I've missed you." He groaned.

"I've missed you too baby, so much."

He reached for something on the floor. His pants. He found the condom in his pocket and took the time to dress his leaking cock with it.

"Turn around for me, baby."

You whimpered, wanting to see his face when he fucked you.

"Don't cry now baby. I want you like this. Trust me, I'll make it good for you too."

You turned over to lay on your belly. Gabriel then raised your hips with his hand, settling himself behind you. His flesh slapped against your folds, making you flinched as the size of him surprised you til this day.

"Relax." He grunted and with the help of his hand guided his cock toward your opening,  inserting himself slowly.

"Jesus."

He chuckled, moving in and out of you slowly. Thrusting his hips upon you like some beast in the night. He lost control about halfway through, grunting every time his hips crashed against your ass.

You buried your face against the pillows, silencing your cries. It was too much, the pleasure almost unbearable.

"Fuck you feel so good. You have....no idea....how much....I've wanted this." He said between hits. "Meu coração."

"Just like that baby. Arch your back for me."

You met every blow of his hips by arching your back. Welcoming his dick that was shoved inside of you until Gabriel grunted in relief, his body collapsing on top of yours.

You lay still in the night, the after care consisting of lazy kisses and whispers of sweet nothings.

"Fuck Y/N. You're making it hard for me to go back to Brazil."

"The don't." You smiled.

He chuckled. "Or perhaps you can come back with me and travel the world by my side?"

"Perhaps. I might need a day or two to think about it."

"Yes, take all the time thay you need. Just know that no matter wherever I am in the world, my heart belongs to you."

[issatalk]

“Meu Amor”

pairing: inês bettencourt x oc

fluff

prompts:

inês is out playing with the portugal team and you surprise her

“meu amor, i miss you so much” inês said with a slight pout on the face, she was on her fiba europe tournament representing Portugal in Lithuania. she had been extremely excited all summer over that tournament and had been telling you on how she hoped she was picked so she could represent her country. “ i miss you too baby, so much, i wish i could be there with you” i said not lying in a single word, i truly missed my girl and being 30 hrs away from one another with a 7 hour time difference was heavy on both. “ i wish i could hug you and kiss you, i miss those big cheeks “ she said with a sly smile at the last phrase. i laughed the least i could because being sick in the summer sucks and not being to able to be with your girlfriend for something she loves also sucks but laughing and your throat hurting sucked even more.

“i’m finally on my last days of meds, i’m definetly feeling better! how was your game? how did you feel?” i said trying to get some words out of her “ well in all honestly we were pretty tense at first, i guess we were nervous but after a while we got the hang of eachother and did pretty well. i dedicated you a basket”

“oh yeah? which one?” i laughed know she just came up with that, whenever she plays she is always locked in and doesn’t think about anything but the game,but i let her keep talking. “the one where i did a right handed reverse layup” a big smile came out of her proud of her accomplishment on court. “well ok, if you say so” i was getting tired the time delay had me crazy and all i wanted was to be with my girl, she was doing some stuff around her hotel room “hey babe” i said “i’m going to sleep now, it’s late and you know i’ve got to get some rest” “ oh yeah of course, i love you, sleep well and get better please” i smiled hanging up the phone.

to her surprise she didn’t know i was lying, i was sick and did feel bad from time to time but i was on my way out of being sick and on my way to Lithuania. ever since she got the news on her secured placed for the team i knew i had to give her a big surprise, i told her that i wouldn’t be able to go and that i had to stay over summer for work and family, when really i had bought plane tickets and reserved my hotel to watch her in every single game. knowing how much this meant for her i knew she would love this. i was on my way to the airport and finally after a couple of layovers i was exhausted. in the process i had received messages from inês that she wanted to facetime but i had to make up excuses saying i was too tired and felt bad. i actually felt kind of bad for lying to her but i knew it would be so worth it. a whole day without hearing her voice i was exhausted from all the traveling.

as i took a taxi to take me to my hotel i swear i was going to faint, how do people deal with this it’s just too much. arrived at the hotel checked in and had my room ready, i ran like a little kid as fast as i could to my room, key in hand i opened the door and as soon as i was inside i plugged my phone and fell asleep hard.

i woke up to my ringtone and checked the screen, inês was calling “ shit” i said to myself, what would i say to her? she will notice the background being unusual, maybe i will just tell her i am out somewhere, yeah let’s say that. with my hair in a big mess and the darkest eyes bags in the world i ran to the bathroom coating my face with cold water to wake up,knowing she might get upset if i don’t respond since it’s been almost two days of my traveling, then i hear the ringing stop but a bunch of notifications sounds came up. oh was she worried now. “shit, ughhh” this surprise was going heaviness than expected.

i read her messages and they went something alike ‘are you feeling better?, goodnight love you, we won!!, goodmorning to the most beautiful girl!, are you okay baby?, are you okay? in worried you haven’t been answering’ and in all honestly i was so tired i lacked mobile service the whole trip and all of the wifi sucked so i most definitely had not been notified of her messages through the whole trip. i now feeling bad for everything called her. “inês hello baby” i tried to say as cheerful as i could with all the little energies i had, i put on a big smile for my girl. “ meu amor, você me deixou preocupado” she said quickly definitely as she said worried. “ oh no, don’t worry i am ok it’s just been really long couple of days and you know they are heavy” “ oh, i’m glad you are okay, i was so worried, how are you feeling now ? do i finally have a healthy girlfriend to kiss when i get back home?” i laughed out loud “yes i am officially well of health” yeah right ms.big eye bags “i’m so glad” “ i’ve been seeing your games! but how do you feel?you have been doing amazing bringing the team good points and amazing assistance as always”i commented changing the topic so she didn’t notice and would concentrate on something else,”the girls have been good” and she went on ranting about everything going on. god i cant wait to kiss her again she’s so beautiful and i’m only watching on a screen cannot wait to see her in real life.

the morning went on as our talk was cut short because she had a game later in the evening so she had to warmup and all that. i took my opportunity to shower, get ready, did my make up and dressed cute in her UConn jersey. took a taxi to the stadium and i was so nervous to surprise her, thankfully i had reached out to one of her closest friends from the team and was getting updates from everything going on. she and i had been communicating and she was the only one who knew i would be surprising her and helped me get everything set up. heading to the stadium and arriving i made sure to text anya that i was here and also sent a good luck text to inês like always just so she didn’t start suspecting anything. i sat in the public section and hoped she didn’t see me till the end.

as the game went on portugal was a couple points down but they still had 5 minutes in the fourth quarter. inês was in the game, as you cheered from the bleachers still not spotted by your girlfriend, you kept screaming and cheering for the team. they were catching up and were only five points apart and in that moments inês had just banked a three and as loud cheers came from your mouth , celebrating that your girl had been closing the game up. her teammates kept playing a to a near lever of the actual floor and as inês and the team were going into the hall to go to their locker rooms, anya had spotted you and told you exactly at what time the team would go to the bus so that you could come out of it before everyone went in.

you followed her instructions clearly, as you were now on the bus that would take them to the same hotel you were staying in. a few minutes passed and you were talking to the driver about stupid and common things, you received a notification “ babe! we won!!” a text from inês came in, along with a bunch of smiley face emojis. in that exact moment you also received a text from anya saying they were on their way, which made cut the conversation with the driver as she closed the doors so you could surprise your girl.

as you saw them walk out of the building all in their uniforms with their sweats and full of bags you knew this was the time. they kept approaching the bus and as soon as the doors were opening you waited until someone stepped in , anya. as soon as she was in she told you that everyone in the team knew and that it’s for to go out, those words fell out of her mouth which made me run out of the bus. i went down the steps and every turned to look at me while my girlfriend was looking at something in her bag, a teammate poked her arm, then she turned and looked up.

she stayed still, but a big smile started to form on her mouth, she ran as quick as she could dropping everything and went straight to hugging you. the hug was so full and felt so comfortable, finally being back into my girlfriends arms. we separated and her questions came right up “meu amor,what are you doing here omg” she looked at me in shock, inspecting my face to look out for any answer “i though you were in connecticut, i can’t believe you are here”. “surpriseee” i said with a big smile, she hugged me again and gave me a small peck.

while the team was on their way to the hotel on the bus i had to call a taxi once again. as soon as my ride arrived at the hotel, inês was waiting for me at the entrance. “let me hold this bag for you pretty lady” she said in an exaggerated deep voice, i only laughed as we started talking. arriving in my room now ours, i went ahead and explained her my whole plan” i know how important this is for you and i wnat to make it known that i’m willing to be there for you always” i told her, my words full of sincerity “meu amor, i love you, thank you for this”