#ah in canada it could never

[woahajimes]

i feel such an incredibly frustriating yearn

[sunrizef1]

big reputation pt 2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader, Max Verstappen x ex!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: sorry this took so long bbgs

Pt 1 Pt 3

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alex_albon

Friend???

Yeah, real fucking funny

yourusername

Get out of my DMs

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lilymhe

“Friend”?

Girl that's the love of your life

“Not because he owns me but because he rly knows me” or whatever

yourusername

Ah I love him 😍

lilymhe

Trust me, i know

I've seen more than I want to

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fernandoalo_official

friend?

Querida, ese hombre te ama.

yourusername

You're the third person to comment on the “friend” thing

fernandoalo_official

Porque las únicas personas que no saben que os queréis son ciegas 😂

translation: (Friend? Darling, that man loves you) (you're the third person to comment on the friend thing) (because the only people who don't know you love each other are blind)

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logansargeant

Friend???

yourusername

Oh my god

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oscarpiastri

I don't appreciate being cut out of this picture

yourusername

Are you my boyfriend or his teammate

oscarpiastri

I'm his friend 😔

yourusername

you'll get an Insta story the day Im in your garage for race day

oscarpiastri

But you'd never be in my garage

yourusername

Well 🤷‍♀️

oscarpiastri

Damn 😔

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logansargeant

DELETE DELETE DELETE

THEYRE GONNA FIGURE OUT THATS ME AND BURN ME AT THE STAKE

yourusername

LMFAO

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MESSAGES

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yourusername

liked by logansargeant taylorswift and 31,998,776 others

yourusername guys!!!! Ive seen the support on reputation and after the year I’ve had, I’m so grateful for every person that’s listened to and supported the album. As a little present for your support, I’m going on tour!!! This is only leg 1, so if there isn’t a show near you, look out for leg 2 after this one, we’ll be visiting several more countries and cities! Tickets go on sale tomorrow at 10 AM, I can’t wait to see you all on the Reputation Stadium Tour!!! 🖤🖤🖤

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user1 YESSSSSS LETS GO

user2 omg I’m gonna be back in the trenches of Ticketmaster again

user3 I need to hear don’t blame me in a packed stadium plssss

user4 no KC????

yourusername we’ll be in kc on leg 2 100%!!!

user4 LFG!!!! Tysm bae

user5 damn she loves Vegas doesn’t she

user6 the most random schedule ever lmfao

user7 she’s going to Austria!!!! No one ever goes to Austria!!!

user8 this is the first tour I’ve seen that isn’t just entirely American cities lmfao

user9 there’s like actual European cities instead of just London lol

user10 I think I recognize the order of some of these stops…

user11 Baku is so random lmfao

user12 why does she go back and forth to the us like 4 times??? 😭

charles_leclerc can’t wait!!!!

yourusername 🫶

user13 she’s coming to Hungary 😍

logansargeant this schedule looks a bit familiar 🤔

yourusername wonder why that is 🤷🏻‍♀️

user14 these tickets are gonna be so hard to get

landonorris so which show are we all going too then

oscarpiastri from the looks of it, we could go to all of them

landonorris I might not go that far 😅

logansargeant I will 🫡

lewishamilton my votes for London n1

carlossainz I say Madrid

fernandoalo_official how about both

liked by yourusername

user15 I live in France but I will be buying tickets to Madrid and London in hopes of seeing the drivers

user16 OHHHH ITS THE F1 SCHEDULE

liked by yourusername

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yourusername

📍Toronto, Canada

liked by landonorris logansargeant and 35,998,004 others

yourusername Toronto you were absolutely electric for opening night of the Reputation Tour!!! I’m in awe of how many of you came out to support the show and I hope it lived up to your expectations! It was also nice to see some friends come out to support before their race this weekend 🫶. Thank you so much Toronto, I’ll see you guys again for Night 3!

Tagged: lilymhe alex_albon oscarpiastri landonorris fernandoalo_official georgerussel carmenmundt logansargeant

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user17 WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE

user18 the show was so good!!!!!

user19 did yall see all the drivers hanging out in the vip tent 😭

user20 y/n kept pointing at the tent during every love song 😭😭😭

user21 it was so amazing!

landonorris what is that picture of me, I do not remember that

yourusername it’s from when your flight landed at two am and you both showed up to soundcheck at 6 am

landonorris and you decided to post that one???

yourusername it’s the only picture I have where you’re not wearing McLaren merch 🤷‍♀️

user22 wait Oscar and Lando showing up to soundcheck is kind of adorable

fernandoalo_official it was very good chica!!

yourusername thank you Nando!!!

user23 that picture of Alex and Lily is so cute

lilymhe it was so amazing, I’m so glad the schedule happens to line up so I can go to more shows!!! 🫶

yourusername you can have a reserved spot in the vip tent lils ❤️

lilymhe 😭🫶

user24 why is Logan tagged on the microphone slide??? He’s not in the slideshow but he’s tagged???

user25 slide 8 is 100% him but she just didn’t tag him, I know it

lewishamilton this is Lewis Hamilton erasure

yourusername ahhhh I’m sorry lew! I don’t have a good picture of you at the show where you’re not out of focus!

lewishamilton this is what happens when I let Fernando take pictures. Guess I’ll just have to go to more shows until I make the slideshow 🤔

yourusername you’re welcome any time, it was great to have you 🫶

user25 slide 8 is so cute 😭

logansargeant so good 😍

yourusername 🫶

user26 now why did Logan have the least to say out of anyone 🙄

user27 I’m convinced it’s because they’re sitting next to each other right now

alex_albon lilys now obsessed with the show so I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of us during leg 1

yourusername don’t act like you didn’t have fun as well

alex_albon oh I definitely did, I’ll have to start planning new reputation themed outfits to match the crowd

yourusername the bleached hair would match perfectly

charles_leclerc me and Alex had a wonderful time, thank you so much for inviting us!!!

yourusername it was so great to have you both supporting the show!

alexandrasaintmleux it was beautiful, mon chou!

yourusername tysm Alex ❤️

user28 all the drivers in the comments 😭

oscarpiastri Lando cried

landonorris no I didn’t stfu

yourusername there’s pictures lan

landonorris New Year’s Day is just so heartwarming 😔

yourusername dw lan, there’s also pictures of Oscar crying

oscarpiastri you know why I cried 😔 I’m just empathetic for his happiness 🙄

user29 “I’m empathetic for his happiness” okay so that’s about Logan and you can’t tell me otherwise

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lewishamilton

Honored to make it into the slideshow 🫶

yourusername

lol you’re welcome lew

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alex_albon

Why do you have a picture of me asleep

yourusername

guess

alex_albon

Lily?

yourusername

Of course

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georgerussell

I’m going to be completely honest

I was completely black out

yourusername

I could tell

Not offended

georgerussell

Hey I do remember the giant snake though

this just means I’ll have to go to more shows and remember those ones

yourusername

You and Carmen are always welcome

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landonorris

Thank you?

Not sure to reply to the small-ass text

yourusername

dw the lmfao wasn’t about you

landonorris

Yeah, I assumed lmao

Glad I could avenge you 🫡

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[atom-writings]

omgg i cant stop giggling n kicking my feet BUT can i request gn!reader 'accidentally' leaving a lipstick kiss mark on russia, america, canada, greece and japan before they leave for the day and the countries dont notice until either from a mirror or someone else points it out? AAOUGUGGH

hetalia russia, america, canada, greece, and japan when their s/os leave a kiss in lipstick

1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: none!

a/n: hjey guys did you know being a costume director is time consuming? i did not. send help. also enjoythis idk

Russia

It was never an easy affair to get Ivan out of the house. His clinginess combined with how admittedly boring his job was made it near impossible for him to leave without you forcing him to. Today was one of those days, and you were beginning to think you’d have to leave with him.

"But darling, can't you understand? It's so cold and miserable out there..." He whines as he holds you.

He's got you positioned so that you're standing between his legs while he sits on the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his head resting against your chest. So... no escape available without coaxing.

"I know, I know, but you'll be late..."

"They will be ok without me, but I won't be ok without you!"

All you can do is sigh until you're suddenly struck with an idea. You can't go with him, but you can leave something with him. And looking down at his snow-white skin, you have just the idea.

"But you won't have to be without me, Vanya!" You chide, tilting his head up to look at you. His face lights up instantly.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of responding, you lean down and press a soft kiss against his forehead, leaving a pink imprint of your lips on his face.

"That one was magic, ok? It'll stay with you the whole day, so I'll always be with you!" It's childish, and you're struggling not to laugh, but his innocent expression tells you all you need to know. He'll finally let you go, none the wiser as to what you really meant.

-

"Ah- Mr. Braginsky..." Some random intern was forced to prompt later in the day, his tone fearful as to how Ivan would react.

"Yes?"

"You... you have something on- on your face..."

"Huh?" He reaches up to wipe where the intern had gestured, but only smiles when he comes away with your favourite lipstick. He decides that whatever left can stay... it's just your magic, after all.

America

Alfred was a busy man for all the effort he expended to prevent that exact reality. He'd much rather spend all day playing video games at home with you, but duty calls. Though, now, was just glad that for once, you were busy as well.

“Hey, babe!” He greets you with a bright smile, resting his hand on your shoulder before moving to sit across from you. The meeting spot he had chosen was busy, but at least it wasn't far from either places you two needed to be.

“Were you waiting long?”

“No, not really,“ You respond with a sigh, twirling the straw in your drink.

”Well, that's good because uh- bad news, I won't be able to stay l-“

”Ugh! Seriously?“

He shrinks a little, fidgeting with his hair, ”Yeah, I know, but like- I can't reall-“

”Do they know you're a person? Like, a person who needs to live?“

“Technically, I'm not, babe,” He laughs, “But I appreciate how protective you are anyway.“

He continued to talk with you for a while, about your day, his day, a weird guy he saw on the street, about how you can't keep threatening his boss because he's the president- until after only a few moments, his phone rang.

He sucked in a quick breath and accepted it, only speaking for a second. Then, he got up with a dramatic groan.

“That's my cue. I guess I'll see you later, K?”

But he wasn't about to get away that easy. You shot up, grabbing onto his tie and pulling closer so you could kiss his cheek quickly.

“For good luck,” You assure, and he grins.

-

“What are you guys laughing about?” Alfred asks as soon as he goes back to work, looking nervously at the group of co-workers pointing at him.

“Got something on your face, man!”

Instantly, he realizes what happened and hurriedly wipes it off. His face is red with embarrassment, but he can't deny the butterflies in his stomach.

Canada

No matter how long you've been together, Matthew never stopped trying to be the picture-perfect boyfriend. At least, that's what you thought as he chose to show up with roses when he came to pick you up. It might've been a fancy event, but you're sure no one else would be doing that kind of thing. But who were you this kind of attention?

“Uhm- good evening, Y/N,” He stutters out as you let him come in for a moment.

“Awww, you shouldn't have!“ You take the roses from him and set them aside.

”It- It's nothing, really-“

”Most men wouldn't even think of that anymore...“ You assure him. He looks sheepish now as if he hadn't expected you to like your gift.

”Then- then, um- they should learn how to t-treat their partners...“

How cute. You walk over to him and stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, to which he immediately stiffens and blushes.

“Thank you, Matthew.”

“Ye-Yeah, uh-huh- yeah- y-you're welcome,” He mumbles, looking down in embarrassment. The colour gracing his cheeks almost perfectly matches the mark your lipstick left behind. You begin to say something about it, but before you can, he frantically cuts you off.

“So- we should get g-going right? Right, time to go...” He blurts out, taking your hand and almost dragging you out to the car.

-

Finally, once you two arrived at the event, you gathered the courage to tell him.

While you two walked, arm in arm, up to the main entrance, you suddenly blurted out, ”You have lipstick on your cheek!“

Except by that time, more than a couple of people had seen him. causing him to instantly freeze up.

The colour drained from his face, and he weakly whimpered out, ”Um, c-could you- uh- g-get it?“

You immediately obliged, cleaning off his cheek. He was embarrassed, but it was still on his mind all night.

Greece

“But do you have to?”

“Yes.”

“But-”

“I’m not getting out of this one, ok?”

“But I don’t want you to go…” His protests were typical, but that didn’t make them any less annoying. Although, it’s hard to resist him when he’s clinging to you like a lost puppy and he smells like he just finished cooking.

“It’ll only be a few hours, ok?” You sigh, finally finishing your makeup.

All he can do now is whine softly, which makes you realize there may be only one way to stop his desperate clinginess. You turn around in his arms, take his pleading face in your hands, and press frenzied kisses all over it. Instantly, his eyes light up and his lips form a dopish smile, and you know you’re free.

“Is that better?” You ask, and he nods. But before you let go, you have to admire how silly he looks with your lips painted all over his face.

-

By the time you return home, it’s already dark. The house is quiet, and when you check the time, you realize he would’ve fallen asleep hours ago. But considering how exhausted you are already, it’s nothing but a relief.

When you enter your shared bedroom, your thoughts are confirmed. He’s already passed out, his broad body splayed haphazardly over your blankets. At first, you don’t think anything of it. But when you turn on the light to get ready for bed, you notice the red stains still sitting on his cheeks.

Somehow, throughout the entire rest of the day, he never looked in the mirror long enough to notice the lipstick covering his face. Or, maybe he did, and just decided that your tokens of affection could stay.

Japan

Kiku was never late. Not even when tired, sick, or at war, was he late to anything. So, the one day that he allowed himself to relax with you, was naturally the first day in centuries that he hadn’t been an hour early. 

“It’s gonna be alright!” You call out from the bathroom while you do your makeup, and he doesn’t even waste the time to respond. Even from all the way across the house, you can hear him desperately throwing things together.

“It is not alright!”

“You’ll still be on time!” That doesn’t seem to convince him to calm down at all, as you can hear his panicked breaths growing louder as he makes his way over to the entry door.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” You insist, and he pauses for a moment. When you meet him at the door, he looks a mess. His hair was askew, his eyes wild with panic, and his tie nearly all the way to the side.

You sigh and begin tidying him up. He relaxes under your touch, you can tell even from under his layers of stoicism; although he can’t allow himself to bask in your attention for long.

“I must go-”

“I know, I know, just…” You pull him forward, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blushes but doesn’t let that distract him. In a moment, he’s gone out the door.

-

After a frenzied drive into the city, he can finally breathe a sigh of relief. 10 minutes early… not great, but enough. He looks in the mirror one last time, making sure he looks his best before he finally steps out into the public when he notices it. The print of your lipstick, still on his cheek.

His touch lingers on it for a moment, his breathing stilling, before he rubs it off. You’ll just have to replace it later, he tells himself before he finally steps out of the car.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

BABES IM ON THE FLOOR 😭 I watched this Price Voice Lines Video and my god 🫠 His voice is so deep im litrally insane. Could you maybe do something with his lines around the 13:35 mark, where he’s being a self-sacrificing jerk? 🤭 Maybe the Reader is with him on a mission or something and like their both super protective and trying to save eachother or something ❤️

All, Most, Some, None

PAIRING: John Price x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS:  Snow melts in the heat of blood.

WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Angst, major character death(s), some fluff in the beginning, protective!Price, pre-relationship pining, obliviousness, blood, bullet wounds, hurt/no comfort, etc. no happy ending

A/N: You know I have to finish out my requests with just pure heartbreak.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You look out over the dark landscape and take down a breath as the atmosphere of the camp behind you murmurs like a warm drink. Night had fallen swiftly two hours beforehand when you’d first volunteered to take watch, your smile bright and eyes eager. Snow was just beginning to slide down from the gray sky, thick clouds hanging like a navy cloth—splotch marks of yellowish stars a far-off glimmer of infinity. 

When the footsteps echo out, coming to your position, you already know the weight and pace of who it belongs to; can trace the way his feet will conform to the dirt and the crunch of white powder. A grin flickers your lips easily but you don’t bother looking over your shoulder. 

John huffs as he takes his place beside you on the lookout, crossing his arms over his chest. In the corner of your eye you spy on his loose yet measured face, that authoritative edge that seeps into his skin at times. 

For a long moment, the two of you look out over the earth, studying the dips and drags of the Northwest Territories of Canada in early winter. While cold, the jackets the both of you wear take the chill off well enough. Along the body of your MK14 EBR, your fingers rest casually—no need to be tensed and ready. Your sharp eyes hadn’t spotted anything for eons. 

“Sitrep, then, Sol?” You hum under your breath as John looks over at you with a raised brow.

“Rabbits and Caribou, Sir.” Your voice goes teasing, “I think we’re boxed in from all sides—I suggest immediate evac.”

A low chuckle and a firm shake of a beanied head, a puff of condensation as the darkness seeps over all to be seen. John glances at you with a smirk.

“Unfortunate, seeing as we just got here.” You smile and laugh deep in your throat. It was at moments like this that you thanked whatever deity was out there that Captain Price had seen your potential all those years ago. 

He’d handpicked you when you were nothing but a Private—brought you up with knowledge and stern, yet gruffly companionate, assistance all the way to Lieutenant. You don’t know the exact moment when you started to get flustered around him. 

Your chest is tight right now, fingers that were once cold going clammy as you twitch them. Inside your chest, your heart pounds blood into the thin drums of your ears like boot-thumps. Clearing your throat, you shift your feet and push out, “Did Laswell get in touch?”

“Ah,” John shakes his head, taking a breath as he says, “Negative. We’re on our own for this.” He turns his head fully to you and for a moment you’re enraptured by the shine in the depths of his blue irises. Teasing, “Think you can handle it, then?”

You turn away quickly, face burning. 

“Doubt me?” Matching his jab you smile widely. John chuckles and jerks his shoulders, grunting as his chin tilts. 

“Never.” Hiding the violent burn of your cheeks, you look at the landscape quickly, nails tapping the metal of your gun. 

“Sol?” John speaks after a moment of tight silence. You blink over with an interested look, cocking your head. The Captain had shifted to fully face you, and one of his hands itches at the side of his finely-trimmed beard. Fast eyes glance over your form like a studious teacher—your lungs still inside of your ribs. John mutters, “Stick near me tomorrow, yeah? Want you on my six.” 

Touched, your brows still furrow with confusion. 

“Don’t…you need me to lead Unit Two?” John’s already shaking his head, gritting his teeth. It’s like something’s bothering him. 

Feet taking you forward, you grab onto his bicep and stare into his tense face with slight concern. “John?” You ask, lids narrowing. 

The man stills at the sensation of your touch, even separated by the layers of his gear and jacket. Eyes slip to yours and lightly soften, the edges easing in their relentless wrinkle of dark thoughts. Like the star that your codename emulated, you seemed to be a ray of illumination for the Captain, and John’s nose twitched before his eyes quickly looked away from your open face. 

It wasn’t right to think the way he did about you. 

“Just have a feeling, Love,” he shakes his head slightly, clearing his throat. Your hand drops from him and he stops himself from snatching it back. 

You smile at him, huffing a laugh. 

“Well, who else’ll be able to take my place, then, seeing as you’re so eager to have me by you?” Gazing behind you into the small camp, John grunts, keeping his eyes on you. A small smirk slips over his lips and pulls his beard back.

“Daniels has got it…copy?” Your throat hums in consideration before you nod in a firm flinch of your head. 

“...Alright.”

“Good.” The Brit shifts his feet and the snow squeals. Snowflakes collect on the top of your head, sitting atop your scalp like tiny insects as the swell of your mouth goes back in a grin. John blinks at you, and before he knows it, he’s extending his hand up to his beanie with little thought beyond how lovely you look like this. 

He plops the fabric down on your head and you snap a hand up to press into it in shock. The man’s large frame slinks back as he takes his leave with you looking back at him; his feet make tracks, leading away to mirror the ones that came before. 

“Don’t get a cold, eh? I’ll expect you to be back in your tent within the hour, Lieutenant.” Face burning, you can’t answer. 

Blue eyes peek over a wide shoulder. Something sparks in those met gazes, a pinprick of wonder and deep affection. Perhaps it was even love.

The snow falls faster, and as John disappears into the darkness the chill of the open ridge suddenly seems less violent than your pulse as it thumps to the humming of the earth. Hiding a giddy smile, you look back out and rub at your neck; hat upon your head perfectly ingrained with a scent of charcoal and pine. 

—

“Leave me! I won’t make it!” The words made your stomach drop through your intestines. Shouted over the open line John’s voice barks the order like a knife with break-neck efficiency. No hesitation. 

It had all gone to shit in a matter of hours. The sun was just on the horizon, spreading its hands of dawn over the camp that was awash with blood and bodies. Enemy soldiers, the ones that your squad was tasked with taking out within the next day, had killed the next sentry on duty after you and stormed your position. 

To think you were minutes away from being that very sentry was mind-numbing. But now the real problem was the state of the camp. 

John had been hit through the right thigh.

Taking cover behind a large pine tree, you dart out at every other interval to fire rounds into anything that dashes like a wild animal into the open. Most of the squad was dead—the rest scattered in the sparse cover that was offered or in the process of dying. Snow melted in the heat of crimson fluid.

Spying the downed figure of your Captain, you growl and sprint out before you can talk yourself out of it, taking the recoil of your MK14 EBR into your shoulder and teeth gritted. John writhes on the ground, trying to maintain control over the remaining forces as his leg is limp and useless. He growls out in pain as his head hits the ground behind him. 

“Fuck!” He shouts. You feel a bullet whizz past your head as you skid down to your knees beside him. 

“Sol!” He glares at you as you survey the damage quickly, ducking when the metal projectiles get gradually closer and closer. There’s shouting in the far treeline; death cries. “What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!”

“You’re stupid if you think I’m about to do that to you!” You yell, jerking your gun up to release three bullets into someone who had burst out with a raised assault rifle. Pain flares in your left bicep, but you barely notice it beyond a strained, instinctual, whimper. “I’m getting you out of here.” 

Panic had gone as deep as your DNA, seeing the large pool of blood around John, his venom-laced words that stem from agony.

“Leave! Fucking hell, Lieutenant, that’s an order!” 

“John,” you shout, “shut the fuck up!” The man’s eyes go wide with shock. It wasn’t often that you swore at him. 

Making your hands dive under your Captain, you loop your hands behind his shoulders and latch at his armpits. With all of your might, you shift and begin dragging him backward into the trees; gritting your teeth at his pained yell and the bare of his own pearly whites.

Moving like this was stupid, you wouldn’t be able to take out your gun without dropping John—and you certainly weren’t going to do that. Not on your life.

“Christ,” the Brit groans, and you frantically watch the blood trail he leaves behind along the ground. Like a rabbit who’d gotten his leg bit off by a wolf but was still trying to run.

There was too much blood.

Agony explodes in your side, but you keep dragging backward with a new hitch in your lungs; eyes awash with tears before the air leaves you with a ragged and violent gasp. The sounds you hear from all around are horrible—the screams and the popping of rapid-fire shots. Sucking down oxygen with a vile cough, you get John behind a cropping of rocks and have to settle him down as you hack into one of your arms; chest shuddering.  

There is a pressure inside of you that digs into your flesh, but the adrenaline floods your brain over the alarm bells, drowning them.

You pull back your arm to see blood. But it doesn’t matter—not now. Not with John like this.

Looking down, you stare into his eyes while you get to your knees by his side. His gaze is wide and stuck at your abdomen with panic, where you already know the damage a bullet can do. 

“Love…” he begins, but his fingers curl into fists of pain instead. John breathes heavily, and when you look down to his thigh you find far more than one bullet. 

There were three, all spaced out in an arch. One at his thigh, one up on his pelvis, and the other directly in his stomach. Your eyes widen with mute horror, mouth stuttering as your throat closes. 

“Yeah,” blood bubbles from John’s mouth as he chuckles in quick gasps. “No good, eh?”

Tears build in great waves, but you force out, “No,” growling, you feel your own blood stain your gear and clothes. No exit wounds for either of you, you can already tell. “No, John—not like this.”

“Sweetheart,” he tries, but you grip the beanie on your head and shove it into his stomach, pressing on the wound there as he wheezes and you sob. 

“No, John!” A large hand finds the back of your hair, and you shake your head wildly. 

Blue eyes stare with regret and torment before darting back down to your wound. You can feel it—you already know; knew the moment the stray bullet hit you. 

The both of you…

“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly so that you have to strain to hear it above the noise. “I’m sorry, Love.” With a shiver of intense throbbing, the strain growing, you dart forward with waning strength and place your lips to his. 

Bloody hands grip his cheeks, slipping over his beard in fruitless desperation. Blood coats your mouths, but the moment of pure love and tenderness takes over. For a minute you can both forget the chill of metal and the blood pooling to the ground. The shaking in your muscles.

You can forget that the both of you are dying.

John keeps the back of your head to him as strength begins to slip. When you pull away with quivering limbs, his thumb weakly brushes your undereye to dispel the bitter tears. He hums with wet eyes. 

“I never got to take you out, did I?” You slip down beside him, shivering and losing heat not only because of the snow. Limbs grow heavy and in the back of your mind, you know you should be afraid—terrified. Maybe you were.

The comment makes you want to scream and rage and wail. 

“No,” you instead say, laughing through a sob at the cruelty of it all as you latch onto him. “No, you didn't, John. But I’m here now. I’m right here.”

Eyes slide over your face as you stay near him; waiting. A tiny smile as his bloody fingers brush your cheek. 

“When we get back I’ll show you ‘round Hertfordshire,” you both know that will never happen. His forehead knocks against yours. “You’ll love it, Sweetheart. Know you will.” 

“I will,” you promise, knowing you can’t. The world besides both of your eyes swirls. “Anywhere with you, John, is worth going.”

It’s obvious what you mean.

John presses his lips back to yours with one last whispered breath of his vow. “I’ve loved you since I first saw that beauty of a smile.” 

The two of you whisper promises and secrets as the gunfire dies down, lips making up for all of the times you should have kissed before and now don’t have the time to. Eyes don’t leave each other as the blood keeps flowing into two large pools of crimson sin. You’re drowned in it—flooded in it. 

You should have told him sooner.

“I’ll find you,” you whisper, eyes fluttering. But the body is long cold. 

You let your muscles loosen as the last of the fight leaves. Content, even in this, but for the simple fact that John’s arms are around you forever in this moment of endless infinity. The sky rolls back, and your last view is of him.

—

In the snow, preserved by the elements even weeks later, they would find your bodies, curled amongst themselves as if to protect one another. They would say that it had been because you were cold, freezing, and bleeding out from your wounds that you’d huddled for comfort. But that wasn’t the truth. 

The two of you had never been warmer than when you were with the other. 

What they couldn’t account for were the twin smiles on frosty lips.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[dontforgetukraine]

"In response to attacks and accusations being directed at our film, 'Russains at War,' and myiself, I want to be clear that this Canada-France co-production is an anti-war film made atg great risk to all involved, myself especially. I unequivocally believe that Russia's invasion of Ukraine is unjustified, illegal and acknowledge the validity of the International Criminal Court investigation of war crimes in Ukraine. The suggestion that our film is propaganda is ludicrous given that I'm now at risk of criminal prosecution in Russia. I also understand and empathize with the pain and anger that the subject matter may provoke in those who have suffered from this conflict. My mother emigrated to Canada, from Russia, so that we could live in a country that is devoted to freedom of expression and human rights. My hope is that our film can be assessed and discussed based on its scope and not agendas and assumptions beyond its frame, and that ultimately such discussions contribute to the war's end." —Anastasia Trofimova, Director/Producer, Russians at War (Source)

Bullshit. She's a director and producer for RT with most if not all of her films funded by RT. I guess she apparently wasn't vetted by the Canada-France co-producers.

Even if promoting Russian propaganda wasn't her intention, it can't be separated from the content. The damn trailer has soldiers saying propaganda narratives in it. (Kyiv Independent)

"Russia and Ukraine have always been inseparable. I miss the brotherly Union" reinforces the false narrative that Ukraine cannot exist as an independent state, that Russia and Ukrainian history are inseparable. Even Putin has said similar things.

“I came (to war) today so that my kids don’t go tomorrow,” conveying the belief that their military aggression in Ukraine is somehow just.

"An order was given. We went." Ah, yes, I was just following orders. Where have we heard that one before, I wonder. Not only that, it reinforces the narrative that ordinary Russians are powerless and blameless in this conflict. This isn't their war, but Putin's war. Fuck that. We know many sign up willingly such as for the money or a clean slate if they are a convict.

You can't separate the propaganda ordinary russians have been stewing in for decades and don't fight back against from this film, sweetheart. It's part of the damned context and you don't get to ignore that. Either she actually realizes that but doesn't want to say it, or she's a useful idiot. It doesn't matter which, because the result is the same.

"The fog of war is so thick that you can't see the human stories its made of."

Yes we can! This isn't the era of WW2. We can see it on Telegram! All the war crimes that are willingly committed and recorded and posted pridefully! All the ethnic slurs said to Ukrainians! All the interviews between journalists and POWs. The translations by volunteer translators showing what "ordinary Russians" on the street actually think about Ukrainians and the war. Even what the families of russian soldiers think. Never before have these stories been more accessible. That's not agendas or assumptions.

We. Can. See. It.

Just because you don't like what's in the information space doesn't mean it's not supremely relevant to the topic you're trying to shape into a narrative.

[fruitcoops]

Clean Slate

Ah, the passage of time. If anyone has been here since the first phone call, you may be entitled to financial compensation (or an AARP membership). Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Reg?”

On the first ring, as always. “Hey.”

“…hi?”

“I was thinking about going back to Gryff for Christmas.”

“Oh.” Surprise, but pleasant surprise. Regulus shook his pan of sausage. “Yeah, sounds good. You always have a room here. Or were you staying with the cubs?”

“With you.” He stretched his neck from side-to-side. Tension bled out of his forehead and shoulders at the familiar roll of French on his tongue. “If that’s okay.”

“Always,” Sirius answered immediately, almost hasty. Regulus wasn’t sure they’d ever get past that. Ah, well. The damage was done.

The line remained quiet for a moment. Sausage sizzled, and he turned to the pile of green beans on the cutting board. Leo had taught him how to snap the ends off with his fingernails, and though he was better now about not chewing them to the quick, he still didn’t like the feeling of stuff stuck beneath them. Regulus had really only called to clarify plans.

“How—how are your friends?”

“Good.” Sirius liked to talk, even if he wasn’t very good at it. “Jax and Kris set up the living room last night.”

“Do they still have that stupid poster?”

Regulus snorted under his breath and carefully sliced the tip off another bean. “They tried to hang it in the window.”

Sirius groaned.

Regulus grinned. He supposed he could have a little mercy. “Don’t worry, it’s under my bed.”

“Somehow, that’s worse.”

“I can’t get rid of it. It’s their favorite possession. They have a thing for your long hair and the murder face. Jax is still waiting for the day you spontaneously get divorced and need a hot young college student to rebound.”

He wasn’t sure whether the gagging sound Sirius made was real or exaggerated. As long as he was in mild torment, Regulus was happy. A simple, ever-amusing perk of long-distance communication.

“I hope your classmates are less in tune with pop culture.”

“Hockey, yes. Pop culture, no.” Regulus eyed the pan, then added another knob of butter to be safe. There was nothing worse than a burnt vegetable. “And my classes are going well, thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome.”

He rolled his eyes. It didn’t matter that Sirius couldn’t see it; the message would certainly get through.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

“I’m not making a face.”

“You always make faces.”

Regulus stuck his tongue out at the microwave above the stove.

“I can feel you doing it again.”

“That was a different one. I’m taking physics 3 this year and it’s making me want to eat a doorknob already.”

“You’re anemic enough that it would probably help.”

“I take my supplements!” Regulus argued, shaking his pan. “Not my fault we were force-fed protein in fucking sun-less Canada.”

“We had sun, you just never went outside,” Sirius countered, like it was some sort of argument. “I don’t have to take supplements.”

“Well, you’re perfect and bulletproof, as everyone knows.”

“Exactly.”

Regulus angled his face at the dark phone screen when he pulled a face this time. It was a good one. Pity that Sirius couldn’t see it. He should’ve gone for FaceTime.

“Are you starting a fire?”

“I’m making dinner.”

“So…yes?”

“Not all of us have a home cook.”

“I can cook now.”

“Oh, you’ve been housebroken.” Regulus blew out a mouthful of steam as he tested a piece of sausage. “How thrilling for Lupin.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one. I learned that last week.”

He could feel Sirius shaking his head. “Knutty is formally banned from teaching you new slang.”

“You’ve never said ‘no’ to him in his entire career.” Regulus let the line hang silent for another half-minute as he turned the burner off and began scraping his dinner into a bowl. It still bore a faint orange tinge from last year’s finals-week spaghetti run. He fished a piece of pasta out of the water and popped it in his mouth, grimacing at the heat on his tongue. It was cooked well enough—at least, he was hungry enough to forgive a more al dente texture.

“By the way,” he started, as if his stomach wasn’t stuttering. “I think I’ll be back in time for family skate.”

The shuffling sounds on Sirius’ end came to an abrupt halt. “That’s nice,” came the faux-casual answer.

Anxiety made a valiant effort to claw up and silence his tongue. “I was thinking about going.”

“Well,” Sirius began, then paused. Regulus swallowed a few times to clear the block in his throat while Sirius pondered. “I—yeah, sounds good.”

“I want to.”

“Good.” Sirius’ relief was audible. “Okay, good. You can change your mind.”

“Don’t be weird about it,” Regulus ordered as he toed his slippers on and made his way to the apartment’s tiny coffee table. They’d get chairs at some point, but for now three pillows sat on the floor beside it.

“I’m never weird.”

“Boo, liar.”

“Freak.”

“I’m telling Lupin.”

“Do it. He likes me better. I can cook.”

“I’m—” Regulus caught himself at the last second and felt Sirius’ breath hitch on the other end of the line in anticipation. “—not joking, I actually want to go and play stupid ice fetch with your irritating friends, and nobody is making me feel pressured.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t sound so…” He wrinkled his nose and stuffed a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. “Smiley.”

“It’ll be good to have you home.”

“If you’re weird, I’m staying with Leo,” Regulus threatened. “For real, this time.”

“Right, because you love being around people who are engaged and anywhere near a holiday, or mistletoe, or the magic of Christmas—”

His loud groan silenced Sirius’ words, but not his laughter. “Get your laughs in now, before I whoop your ass on the ice.”

“Would love to see you try.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled.”

“Everyone else is going to underestimate you. I won’t be nice like that.”

“You’re never nice,” Regulus lied.

Sirius let him eat in peace until he was scraping the last bits of cheese from the bottom of the bowl. He heard the faint beeping of the dishwasher buttons in the background and glanced at his own sink, nearly overflowing with haphazard dishes from the first chaotic weeks of their senior year. The apartment was a pleasant change from living on campus, such as it was. Jax and Kris had offered to pay rent—tried to strongarm him, really—but a few withering looks had finally made them relent. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was his. Theirs.

The string lights lining the ceiling weren’t strictly allowed, but Regulus liked their gentle blue cast. The blanket Remus and Sirius had sent as a housewarming gift sat cozily on the back of their couch. Curtains from Jax’s mother let in just the right amount of light in the mornings.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

The sound of Sirius’ voice in his earbuds startled him. “Yeah,” Regulus said. “Yeah, sure.”

“Even for laundry.” Sirius tried for wry, and it made Regulus crack a small smile, but it was gentler than either of them intended. “Don’t shrink your clothes. Check the tags.”

Always do, he thought, but kept it down. “Good advice. No centipedes here, yet.”

Sirius’ laugh was a little weak. “You’re just not looking hard enough.”

“Eugh, don’t say that.” Regulus blinked fast, tipping his head toward the ceiling. “Hey, this washer even has a ‘normal’ setting, if you can believe it.”

“Oh, wow. Lucky you.”

Picking up the phone on the first ring, always. For four years straight. “I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“We can come up in October, if you want.”

Of course Sirius had the academic calendar on-hand. “I’ll be gone that weekend with the guys. We didn’t want to be around all the new parents. They’re very damp.”

“And you melt when water touches you, of course.”

“Of course.”

Sirius let out a quiet breath. “See you at Christmas, Reg. Call me when you have flights.”

“Mhm.”

“Stay safe.”

“Always do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do here,” he corrected.

“Fine.”

“Miss you.” The streetlights down the road were just starting to come on. “Say hi to Lupin for me.”

“He’s in the other room,” Sirius offered. “You can say it yourself.”

“I’ll talk to you both enough at Christmas.”

“Call any time. And let us know when you hear back about graduation tickets.”

What a terrifying thought to leave for the end of the call. “I’ll forward it to you.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Okay. Bye.” And before he could second-guess himself—“I’ll be home soon.”

“Don’t talk to strangers,” Sirius answered. Regulus heard the truth under it. “And do your laundry.”

[unhonestlymirror]

I am horrified by how often I see people writing, "Well, we shouldn't take Holocaust into account when talking about Israel-Palestine war." Of course we SHOULD, and that's why:

"October 7 is getting rewritten and certain social media users are an active of the campaign to erase the atrocities.

I was barely awake on October 7th when news of the atrocities that were committed by Hamas began to trinkle in, horror by horror. With sleep still in my eyes, I had hoped it was a nightmare I could erase by burying my face in pillows and returning to slumber, but alas, reality was insistent. Hamas had butchered over 1,200 people, amongst them infants, pregnant women, the handicapped, and the elderly. Even dogs were not spared.

But Hamas didn’t just murder them in cold blood, they had tortured, raped, desecrated their bodies, and took hostages. Their depravity was limitless. And they were so proud of their crimes that they used GoPro cameras to record them, later releasing the sickening spectacles to the public as a form of psychological terror. Add to that the live streams, cell phone recordings, and CCTV camera footage, and you’ll probably have the most documented massacre in history—with a reported 60,000 video clips collected.

I’ve seen some of these videos, including those not circulating quite so widely in public. They will haunt me for the rest of my life—and that falls far short than the 47 minute “film” shown to select journalists and diplomats worldwide, a number of whom broke down and/or fell ill during the screening.

But as shocking as all of this deranged butchery was — which was entirely the intention — what stunned me in the aftermath is the world’s reaction.

Putting aside disputes of land and politics, it was jarring to hear such a blatant reframing of narrative. It started with calling Hamas the “resistance” and justifying the unjustifiable. A number of BLM chapters had put out “heroic” images of Hamas terrorists descending on parachutes. I half-expected them to release action figures of Hamas fighters too. Maybe they did?

And then came the "BUTs." Sure, some folks condemned Hamas, but it was always followed by a "BUT," justifying the unjustifiable. I've been asked, ad nauseam, "What would you do in their situation?" Well, my response remains steadfast: not commit random acts of murder, torture, and kidnapping. Call me old-fashioned. (For the record I’ve called many colorful words for my stance, but oddly that was never one of them).

It was a wake-up call for many, especially those of us in the global Jewish community. Overnight, the illusion of safety shattered, much like the dreams of anyone who's binge-watched a horror series alone at night. But now we were all collectively trapped in that nightmare, and couldn’t wake up no matter how hard with pitched.

The history of the Holocaust is taught in many schools around the world. “Never forget” and “never again” are sentiments that are echoed within that curriculum. Yet, while some might scoff at the persistent advocacy for Holocaust education, insisting that it’s hitting them over the head, a nationwide survey in 2020 reveals that the under-40 crowd seems to have missed the memo. Shockingly, one in ten respondents haven’t even heard of the word “Holocaust,” let alone being aware that as many as 6 million Jews perished in it.

Further, nearly a quarter of those questioned said they believed the Holocaust was a myth, had been exaggerated or that they weren’t sure. Meanwhile in Canada, one in five young people (under 34) either hasn't heard of the Holocaust or isn't sure what it is. And in Britain, one in twenty adults flat-out deny that it ever took place. Ah, the privilege of blissful ignorance.

Most who underestimate the number of Jews killed in Holocaust have neutral or warm feelings toward Jews.

But it's not just ignorance; there's an entire industry that has been propped up and dedicated to Holocaust denial, complete with books, “movies,” and groups. To make matters worse, alarmingly, fewer Holocaust survivors are around to share their firsthand accounts and counteract the flames of denialism.

Nearly half of the 1000 people surveyed had stated that they’ve seen Holocaust denial or distortion posts on social media or elsewhere online.

I’ve always thought that denials of genocide—such as the Holocaust —were something that happened over time, with history slipping away and being re-written.

However, I never expected to be observing this in real time.

While initially the so-called “resistance” was celebrated by a subset of society, this soon turned into full-fledged denials of Hamas’ actions on Oct 7. Despite overwhelming evidence in the form of videos captured and shared by Hamas themselves and shared on Telegram channels and elsewhere, I would read and hear people claiming that they had only targeted Israeli military. Absurd claims emerged using supposedly ‘leaked’ footage where an Israeli helicopter shoots at Nova music festival goers. That video was viewed over 30 million times on X alone. The video, which was actually originally shared by the IDF on Oct 9, was showing their attacks on specific Gazan targets—certainly NOT indiscriminate bombings of music festival attendees in Israel. (Here’s a great thread that details how this piece of disinformation spread and geolocation information that further confirms that the claim is fake).

I’ve heard countless denials of the rapes of women (and men), despite overwhelming evidence in the form of physical evidence, forensics, and a number of witness testimonies. Women’s rights groups, meanwhile, remained silent—thus offering a vacuum for denialists to fill. Proponents of “me too” also stayed silent. Worse, the University of Alberta Sexual Assault Centre’s director signed an open letter calling Hamas perpetrating “sexual violence” an “unverified accusation.” It took UN Women nearly two months to issue a lukewarm condemnation of the brutal attacks. “We are alarmed by the numerous accounts of gender-based atrocities and sexual violence during those attacks,” they wrote, following a letter writing campaign urging them to speak up. Better late than never though, right?

The roughly 40 dead babies claim was debunked as a lie. At least that’s what people on social media now declare as fact, citing a Haaretz investigation.

“Haaretz investigation EXPOSES all the ISRAELI LIES from October 7th just like I predicated (sic),” reads the post of one particularly large disinformation account.

These claims persisted despite Haaretz directly addressing that post and calling it “blatant lies” and insisting that it “absolutely no basis in Haaretz’s reporting.”

The denials continued regardless of the fact that a group of 200 forensic pathologists from all over the world had confirmed that babies were indeed murdered and that some babies were found decapitated, though it was unclear whether this was done before or after death. First responders also corroborated that they witnessed beheaded infants. Regardless of decapitation, these were babies, murdered.

The forensic pathologists also confirmed that humans were executed, bound and burned alive. Israeli police have over 1,000 statements related to the attack.

When some of the hostages were released, Hamas supporters claimed that the hostages enjoyed being held by them, that they hardly wanted to leave. That this was like a pleasant vacation for them, that’s all. Like sipping piña coladas by the beach. In fact, they would state that they were more concerned about their safety in Israeli hands. They even concocted stories of love affairs between a hostage who was shot in the leg and a Hamas captor. A sick and twisted take on reality where up is down, cats are dogs, and denial is truth. They dismissed the reality that many of these hostages watched their loved ones get murdered in front of them, and still had relatives being held in captivity. The hostages were also administered Clonazepam by Hamas, a mood-enhancing tranquilizing drug, before handing them over to the Red Cross, so that they would appear “happy.”

Meanwhile, the Yale Daily News published a correction of an opinion column stating that the “allegations had not been substantiated.”

The denials go on and on, and I can’t help but feel like I’m watching a version of Holocaust denial, except this time it’s happening in real time—not years after the fact. And this time, it has a Wi-Fi connection and a social media account.

The conditions for this were ripe. Moral relativism is why just several weeks ago, Gen Z embraced Bin Laden's 'Letter to America.' It has been building up for years across college campuses, a breeding ground for ideologies that support violent means to achieve political gains.

The perceived power dynamics play a role here too. In the eyes of many, the Israelis are seen as a superpower whereas the Palestinians, and by extension Hamas, are seen as underdogs. In their view, the underdog is always right because it is the victim, and the “power” is the oppressor. So how can the oppressor be a victim?

Israelis, despite the majority of the population being Mizrahi Jews, as well as 20% Arabs (who were also victims on Oct 7), have been framed as “white colonizers,” vs the Palestinians who are seen as “POC” in the context of this conflict. Never mind that Jews, including Ashkenazi Jews, can be traced back to the land through DNA, archaeological evidence, and historical documents.

An overall distrust for media is another factor, which has resulted in individuals taking the word of random influencer accounts as gospel over traditional media outlets. According to Gallup polls, Americans’ trust in media is near a record low. Only 34% of US adults have a “great deal” or “fair amount” of confidence as of 2022. This is a major hindrance to our sensemaking abilities.

And then, of course, there’s cognitive dissonance. When a group identifies so closely with the perpetrator and they commit heinous acts, confronting that fact happens to be uncomfortable. So, in an attempt to reduce that discomfort, they rationalize or deny the evidence. This means that they accept only evidence that supports their existing beliefs, while placing unreasonable demands on the other side.

But none of these factors would have gained as much traction if it weren’t for something that didn’t exist during the Holocaust: social media. This is the engine that helps drives this real-time historical revisionism and denialism. According to 2021 data from Pew Research, over 70% of Americans get their news via social platforms. A Reuters Institute report from 2023 found that 30% of respondents use social media as the main way to get their news.

We have a society that consumes sound-bites of information, both truth and lies (as well as lies based on grains of truth).

Social media algorithms—combined with human nature—tend to amplify outrageous untruths, which spread widely. Corrections, never make it as far as the original lie. They are just a faint hum.

Throughout the Israeli-Gaza war, we’ve seen AI generated images and bots used to paint a specific narrative—for evocative, emotional effect. But technologically sophisticatication isn’t a prerequisite for painting false narratives. Many “influencers” have taken to using existing images or videos and attaching misleading headlines to them—including sharing content that captures events in Syria while presenting it as taking place in Gaza. These networks of influencers have large reach, and can turn even the most blatant lie into a revisionist truth.

Researchers for Freedom House, a non-profit human right advocacy group, found that generally at least 47 governments have used commentators to manipulate online discussions in their favor, either via humans or bots. They’ve also recruited influencers to help spread false and misleading content, and have created fake websites that mimic actual media publications. Then there’s always Russia’s propaganda arm RT, and various other publications like Al Jazeera and Quds who have direct ties to Hamas and/or other Islamic regimes.

All of this has contributed to narrative confusion, and the erasure of unspeakable acts of brutality, and the denial of the facts of October 7, right before our very eyes.

If we cannot even share a common reality, how can have any hope of resolving anything?

“Never again” is happening now."

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: 17 months “Sea legs”

“Did you really need to bring a recorder here? It's an aquarium hun. Do you really plan on interviewing yourself here?”

“It's not that, Abi. I just, with how bad my memory is, I want to make sure I have something to remember this moment.” 

“And you chose a recorder instead of a video camera because…?”

“I really want to eat the fish. This way I get to focus on your beautiful voice when I listen back.”

“...Gay.”

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it? Kiss me maybe?”

“Maybe later. Come on, I want to get to the underwater tunnel before it closes!”

“I know it's Hyper city, but it's really cool to see so many therians here. Back in Canada, I'm lucky if I see one in a week.”

“There's a lot of us, yeah.”

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just a little sad is all… 

Ok ok, I’ll talk, stop making that face, haha It’s just that, yeah there are a lot of us around. Still feels like we never get treated properly. We’re either freaks or walking tourist spots. I know things will get better eventually, but it's. I really wish I could figure out how to shapeshift into a more convincing human.

“You spent how long on this medication and now you're trying to look human again?”

“It's just useful, that's all. Besides, it's not like I have the right to call myself otherkin… Ow! Don't flick me hun, my skin is sensitive, and you could lose a finger!”

“stop overthinking things. Enjoy your time here and if anyone calls you out, then I'll kick their ass.”

“Thanks, but please don't fight anyone for me. No offense, but you're not exactly capable of doing damage to people hun… ow, ok ok stop it, ah! Haha, cut it out!”

“I'm not gonna stop until you start treating yourself better. You're my mimic girlfriend! You get to decide what you are and no one gets to tell you otherwise. Also! You have a bunch of other people here who would defend you like… is that a werewolf over there? Next to the robot and… um.”

“Pretty sure that's a cyborg, and also that looks like a black arms member?”

“Wait, like the-

“Abi, we're currently having a date in an interdimensional dead end, looking at fish that do not exist in our universe, and I'm pretty sure that fish over there is a badnik. It's really not that strange.”

“That's… fair.. I guess… Hey hun, I'm gonna go grab some ice cream real quick.”

“We're half way through the tunnel already. You sure you want to go all the way back?”

“I'll be quick, just stay put.”

Bzzzt, crackle, Welcome to the wonderful world of Hyperquarium! Thank you for choosing us as the one and only place that can bring fish together from around the worlds in perfect harmony! If you look to our left, you'll see our trained feeder get a chance to show off those gills and show you what only a shark therian can do, he's a professional so don’t worry about being bitten kids. This therian knows how to take care of others. This is also a reminder not to touch the glass as you may spook our feeder.

“Ugh, great, just what I needed, feeling insulted over an intercom. Why does getting second hand insulted have to feel worse? I'm definitely cutting this part from the recor- OW, OH STARS, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE… slithering, um, miss, are you ok?”

“Oh- I’m so sssorry I didn’t mean to, I sswear! This tail just gets sso long by now it’s… difficult for me to control at times. I uh… You haven’t seen any other Lamias around by chance? Or some people in brown uniformss?”

“Uniforms? You’re not on the run or something right? And no, I haven’t seen any other Lamias around, You’re actually the first I’ve ever really had a chance to see. I kind of thought I’d see more with how popular you guys are. But seriously are you alright?... 

Is- is that a shock collar around you?”

“Well… Yes and no- Yes thisss is a shock collar… okay uh- we’re not suppossed to call them that uh… It’s a.. “behavioral correction device”... But yess it’s a shock collar. And no, I'm not on the run… quite the opposite actually… I had a bit of an episode and lost myself in some instincts when watching the fish… and the next thing I know my group is gone and I'm.. I’m not supposed to be away from the group and… if I don't get back soon I might be in a bit of… ah ssscrew it they’re gonna be mad at me anyway… “

“So then… I know a good hiding spot to watch the fish if you want to hide a bit longer. I mean, if that’s ok, and I won’t get in too much trouble, and you won’t get in too much trouble, and I think I’m stumbling over my words, You want to just go hang out in the jellyfish room? It’s pretty dark there and they don’t allow any kind of outside lights in there.”

“Y-yeah that sounds nice! Low lightss could help with that headache. Uhm, what’s your name if i may assk?”

“It's Mayday, and what about you? What's your name?”

“Ah my name-.. It’s uh… oh wait.. I…hmm…Right! Aria… I think. I… am still not sure if I should change it… it’s uh.. complicated.”

* * *

“The jellyfish are really cool, just floating around with not a care in the world. I guess I get why humans find them so boring, but I think they're just not seeing how nice it would be. You know?”

“I totally get what you mean. Just being able to be you… going with the flow of thingss.. Not a care in the world. But that’s just something that therians like us can fully understand… other than the other animals of coursse right?”

“I'm guessing you're past your own crossroads then, like me, based on your words at least. You wouldn't mind if I asked you some questions would you? It's a bit selfish to ask after dragging you here, but I need to know something.”

“Ah well-... i am still “crossssing” it… doc said it will go on for another month or three… maybe longer they are all very vague about this stuff. But sure, I can try to answer to the besst of my ability.”

“So, what do you think of those that don't take that next step? Like the ones that decide they want to stay human in some way, aren't they cheating or something. Like they got to have their cake and eat it too, isn't it a bit unfair? I mean, look at you, you're getting escorted around in a collar by guards, and then we- they get to walk around with not a care in the world.”

“I don’t think that it’ss cheating… It is my choice to go through with it… and in the end I will be what I alwayss wanted to be… fully in both mind and sspirit. This of course will come with quite a few burdens… I am already forgetting so much that I would have loved to remember… But I alsso gain so much more which is just hard to desscribe. All I can hope for is that I ssomehow end up remembering all the faces of the ones that helped me get sso far… or at least ssome other kind of connection.  Those that however stay human to ssome degree have their own struggless to live with. For some it’s never being able to fully control yourself, alwayss having that bit in them that shines through and reminds them that they are sstill “incomplete” which can be a lot on their mind. In the end we all go our own ways, face our own struggless. No sside has it any easier I think than the other, it’s just… different, and you have to choose for yourself which sstruggles you want to deal with in the end. What you yourself think you are able to handle better. For me it was that I was just afraid that I couldn't control the animalistic sside of myself… I could just not live in this sstate i was in, i wanted to fully become me, hoping that it will set me free of the fearsss and anguish that my humanity brings me. But I know what it can cosst me… what it already has… still I weighed my options and decided that this is the best option for myself.  But if you think that where you are now is what is the best option for you, then no one should hold it against you, not even yourself… Does that make ssense?

“Wow, call me out huh. I guess I'm not as good at hiding these sorts of things as I thought. I technically went too far before I lightened my dosage. It left me, broken. Things don't feel right for either side, and I have things I just- there are things I can't let go of no matter how much I want this. It's like I'm splitting apart and I can't figure out how to be anything correctly. I'm not really Mayday, I lost all my memories in my first year. It should have been the perfect excuse to continue forward, but then I got to know Mayday's friends and family. And... I liked them, I liked them alot, I love some of them. I barely know them and when I met them for the first time it just felt right and they were crying like I died and. I can't put them through that. Not a second time. This human side of me just won't let go. I'm putting others before my own happiness again. I'm undermining your sacrifice, being a coward. Sorry I'm ruining your trip aren't I. I'll get out of your scales for you.”

“No wait! It’s okay, I’m used to doing thisss… sort of. Uhm sso… before I got put with the other Lamia’s… I was part of a group that… helped each other… there iss someone there that's a lot like you… multiple actually.. While they did not lose their memories… they stayed partly human too.. They did not continue like I did. Anyway, you’re a lot braver than me, I think.  You… lost your memoriess and still decided to stay with the ones that love you now and before, I don’t think I could have done the ssame. You’re still happy with them now aren’t you? I mean… the way you said it, it’s not just others happiness at stake but your own too. Sso… heh.. I don’t really know where I'm going with thiss but I think you’re brave.”

I can't believe I'm talking about all this with a complete stranger, solidarity is a powerful thing. Who knows, maybe we did know each other at some point and just forgot. But thanks. It doesn't fix how I feel, but it's a good bandage for now. In the meantime we can watch the Jellyfish together until you're ready to go back…

“Did you hear that announcement a little while back? Nice to see therians getting hired here but way to not only turn it into another tourist spot, but also insult all of us at the same time. Can you believe they actually said all that?”

“Oh my god yesss! How do you actually manage to be ssupportive and a total a-hole at the same time!? Urgh… It’s not just here though… god the way they sometimes announce our exhibit is just… urgh something about staying on the paths and not getting too close without sssupervision… like-... As if they don’t almosst OVERFEED us before so we aren’t even in the mood to hunt… and then these stupid collarsss too.. Sigh I thought this stuff is to make us get away from the negative ssstigma.. Not FEED into it..”

“Wait, I'm sorry, did you say exhibit? Like as in… you're part of a zoo attraction? Y'know, if I was still human, I would be throwing up at that. Is that why you're wearing a collar?! That can't be legal. Like when you say exhibit, you mean like they put you in walls that you can’t ever leave without people acting like handlers? That's disgusting!”

“Ah-... y-yeah? Well okay, it ssounds bad when put like that but… okay that's uh kinda the best option? It was either… have ssome other person keep me like a pet.. Definitely no, be put into the wilds far away from civilization and be not allowed within a certain disstance of any human civilization… also big nono in my eyes.. or… Join the lamia exhibit in the zoo. I’d still be allowed to see my friends… or, well, have them visit me at leasst… I can help fix the kinda negative view people have of Lamias ssince most think of the evil folklore… or video games…  I get to live with others of my kind in a gated community… food is taken care of… healthcare too… kinda… Honestly it was the besst of the options I was given… All I gotta deal with is people looking at uss all day… the stupid collarsss, handlerss… yeah… Maybe one day laws change, that we do not have to sign some legal ownership document stuff and can be free in the city as well… but until then… that’s how it hass to be.”

“I guess I understand, but that just sounds horrible to me. You can put up with a lot, if that’s what you're handling every day. Speaking of, are you going to be ok? Either your guards find us and something bad happens to you, or I jump in and take the blame for essentially kidnapping this zoo's pet. Either option doesn't sound particularly fun. Stars, I thought after finishing this transition I wouldn't have to deal with all this negativity. Somehow Hyper city ended up being just as bad as back home, only it's bad in different ways. This sucks. Is there really no other option that's better? I thought that lamias had intelligence comparable to humans, are your instincts really so strong that you'd endanger humans around you?”

“Don’t worry, they are gonna be quite mad at me, and i’m probably going to have to wait quite ssome time before they allow me my next outside trip… but as long as I sstay put, and don’t get in any situation that could be interpreted as me being a danger… they will probably not use the shock collar when they find me.  Well… the besst outcome would have been if at least they put my legal ownership to one of my friendss but… I wouldn't have wanted them to see me sslowly forget who I was and all the other legal stuff it brings with it… not to mention that most of them are therianss on HRT themsself so the state probably would gatekeep that somehow too. And please don’t put the blame on yourself, that would probably give a hefty fine if not jail time… rather leave the option open to see you again at the exhibit than have you banned from it. At leasst then I get visitors I know and like! And as for our insstincts… It’s difficult… yes they can be overwhelming but they get more manageable after the crossroads… At least that's what I heard from a friend. Ssomething about being more aware of them subconsciously. But for our intelligence being comparable to humans, that's true but mix it with our statuss being non human… and laws haven’t developed that far yet… we are basically categorized as animals. And with people being afraid of our fangs, ssnake parts and all that, I don't see it changing soon.”

“Oh that is so gross, I can't believe the universe would let something like that even happen. Sometimes I wish I could just bite anyone who ticked me off. But you're probably right. About everything I guess. I hate the idea of a place like that existing, but I'd rather not get in trouble and not have the chance to talk again. You're strangely nice to talk to, also I don't think I could afford bail if I got arrested. I probably would lose my chance to work with Erian if that happened. Maybe I can do some protesting in front of city hall instead… I also want to ask about that old support group of yours, and also… hm, maybe I shouldn't chew your ear off right. If you don't get into too much trouble, we could meet up to chat more? I'll make today up to you, if the zoo allows it I could get you a plush at the gift shop.”

“Ah-.. uhm… no… trust me that you do NOT want that… it’ss… no… you’ll not forget the taste… ever… *sigh* Anyway thank you that’s nice to hear, you’re also a lot of fun to talk to. A nice change of pace. Protesting could help! Make our voice heard~  I’d love a visit and another chance to talk too! The plushie would be lovely. As for my old ssupport group.. Yeah they are nice, you should really go and talk to them. We have an online presence so jusst look for… Therian THEMS support group!  There’s… a… white tiger… her name… uh… damn come on i know thissss… white tiger… and… brown… nghhh… come on COME ON I KNOW their… their namessss i know them…”

“Don't worry, it's fine. I live at THEMS actually, I didn't realize they had a support group. I sort of never checked around, and don't worry, I don't actually bite people… usually. Come on, we can try to sneak over to the gift shop and… um hey Aria, sorry if it's rude to ask but, well it's just a thought is all. Have you had a chance to see what you look like?”

“I-... I’m sssorry it’s… yeah. Yeah let’ss get there… Wait what i look like?... Now that you mention it… I kinda forgot my own face… not really any mirrorss around in the enclosure… we usually help each other with hairstyling and so on. Why do you ask?”

“Would you like to see yourself right now?”

“I… I mean sure? Iss there like a mirror around here or…”

“Supplemental: I had Erian’s help splicing the tapes together, He’s good with old stuff like this. I wanted to add this to better describe the scene. I want no possible chance I will forget this..

Ok, here goes. Descriptor: Morphing like that felt nice, I’d never done anything like that before, but, it just worked out. It felt like body and mind actually agreeing for the first time since I became a mimic. The faint pale glow of the jellyfish felt like it was a radiant sun illuminating not just the room but my shifting form. My mind felt complete. Sharp. Morphing into something with my human remains and mimic self in agreement for the first time. This state of change I went through, this was what I was meant to have. I could feel my legs twist and fuse into a tail that grew longer and longer. Teeth moved from my body and incorporated into fangs and claws. I could feel the chemical reaction inside of me as poison turned to venom. I never looked away, I didn't close my eyes. I just kept looking back at Aria, understanding every crease and shine in her scales. It was then I finally realized how much I had always wanted to be a mimic. This felt correct. The feeling faded eventually, but I knew I had morphed myself into a perfect copy of Aria, because when I looked at her I felt happy. Did the medication somehow know this is what I truly needed? I need more time to think. End supplemental.”

“Thisss- You’re- I- woah! This is uh- I’m sssorry I’m blown away by thiss! This is what I look like!? Wait before that- You’re a shapeshifter? I- Oh my. Thank you! I-... this feels a bit weird to asssk someone that currently looks like my exact twin but-... can i… you know… give you a hug for thisss!? I mean… looking at you it’ss… looking at everything i ever wanted to be I-... sssorry that wass a weird thing to asssk someone i jusst met earlier I-... Thanksss”

“You can give us a hug if you like. We don't mind being ssstrangers. Oh, we do that too, interessting. Eheheh, but yesss, you may hug.”

“Yeah you get usssed to it~ Okay then uh-... here we go. Thank you.”

“I think I hear people coming. I need to change back before any of those guards see two of you. Glad you enjoyed getting to hug a squishier version of yourself. I must feel like a marshmallow. Oh wait, I think my partner is gonna kill me if I leave her waiting any longer.”

“Haha~ I guess we both are going to get our ears chewed off by ssome people. It wass very nice getting to meet and talk to you Mayday, and I hope to see you again! Just… don’t take it to heart if I end up having to assk your name again or… worsse okay? Oh- and if you meet the people from the ssupport group… tell them i sssaid hi.”

“Will do, you better stay safe then, and don’t you dare end up regretting your choice, you got that! Enjoy your new life, and hopefully it won’t just be within a zoo someday. If you ever need to ask my name again, then I’ll be sure to ask yours as well. I look forward to meeting you again Aria the lamia.”

“Yes, I will do my besst to do that. I look forward to meeting you again too, Mayday the Mimic.”

* * *

“Abi, I’m back!”

“Oh my god where were you! I called like eight times! I thought something might have happened to you!”

“Sorry, sorry, I got caught up in a weird situation, I met a new friend I guess. You’d like her. she was really nice… Ok, yeah I’ll make it up to you. Really sorry for making you worry like that. Let’s go out to eat. This place kinda sucks. What about that sushi place you wanted to go to a couple months ago! I’ll pay for it.”

“You seem awfully cheery all of a sudden

“I just figured out who I am. That’s all.”

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Start - Prev - Next

Hey, hope you enjoyed what I think is the longest chapter by far. Normally I try to stick with two pages of text to get something that most people can keep their attention on. Not really possible here.

I'd like to take this time to thank @ariathelamia for collaborating with this chapter. She's so cool and you should go follow her right now. Do it right now. Do not finish reading this part until you double check you are following her and reading her Lamia HRT story!

Anyway, I'd also like to point out the cameos/mentions for Tiger HRT and ??? HRT by @tigergirltail and @home-sweet-hive, respectively. Both are extremely good and give me the inspiration to continue writing this story every single day. This story would have probably stopped around the fifth or sixth part without them. So you should go read those stories right now as well. Do it. Seriously though, thank you so much for reading. Have a wonderful day.

-Navi

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Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

@aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywyne, @glitchgloop

[slythereen]

you’re right, this triple header has me in the trenches ughhh especially today with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, i hope you get to take some time to yourself and recover from this 🫶

2023, i could see what our beloved trio ( @tsarinablogs @valyrfia and @thearchercore ) were on about but it was still to early for me to really understand (it was vegas that got me into this mess, i’m still fairly new here) but now?? seeing it all happen real time when i’ve got a decent amount of technical understanding of the sport??? yeah they’re onto something

-🫧

ah, yes. vegas. things were looking very good, vibes were good, lestappen agenda from rbr had slowed down a bit, iirc charles resign announcement already out… understandable, the narrative was and had shifted by the time we got to vegas.

but im never getting off the rbr charles agenda and it’s starting to look really possible again. i think we were incredibly close to getting it before, im sold on it having been more than convos and an actual pre contract in place before ferrari won charles over. and i don’t think ferrari can do it again (and they may be at the limit of what they can offer and have charles trust them).

unfortunately i think they might be willing to gamble on lewis and charles threatening to leave might not move them like it has previously. however, i also think charles might be at his limit of threatening to leave and seeing their promises fall apart both times after they convince him to stay. especially now that it’s not just rbr having a run away season — now that mclaren and merc are showing positive development i think it’s going to be incredibly more damning for ferrari.

charles said before that when he doesn’t believe in the project any more he will leave. i don’t think we’ve heard him on main talking about trusting the project and long term plan recently? very dreadful vibes since canada, and each of these triple headers has had a new and unique way of ferrari trashing his reputation afterwards. he seemed genuinely downtrodden and over it pre race and even worse post race.

[sosauced]

Omg that breeding kink post 🥵

Me being the APH Canada simp I am is BEGGING to see him with a breeding kink as well. 🥵🥵🥵🥵

Matt’s moans were more like cries, his body in ecstasy as he pumped his hips against yours. Never before had you seen him so out of control, so temperamental. “M-Matt!” You sobbed as he continued to fuck your pussy like it was his job, and boy did he love his job. For the first time, you two had decided to duck without a condom, and he was getting a bit carried away. His one hand gripping your wrists, pulling them behind your back as the other head your hips to keep them steady. He was the one telling you what to do, he was the one who got to feel real pleasure for once. Your eyes rolling back, you could barely make sense of up from down or left from right, he was fucking you senseless. “M-matt, slow Dow- AH!” You gasp and whip your head around. His hand met your ass with a crisp slap, now grabbing the flesh and groping your bruised cheek. He looked at you, warning you to leave him be. He pulls you up and backward, your back meeting his chest and your arms locked behind your back. “I can’t hold back, I’m going to cum in you.” He grunts. “I have to cum in you.” His soft voice echoed in your head over and over. “We can’t! Don’t you dare!” You cry out but your reminder and plea go unheard. Completely ignored. He’s in a trance as he pushes your face back down into the mattress, his cock filling you to the brink as he pushes deeper and deeper. He wants to be in you, he wants you to have his cum permanently marking your little hole so you’re branded as his. “Let me do this.” Matt begs, “just this once, let me do this. You just feel so good, I can’t stop. I can’t stop myself. You feel so good…so good. So good.” He’s lost his mind, the man’s gone mental from your pussy. He can hardly hold himself together as he fills your little pussy so full of his cum you’re practically leaking. His body retorting his organs by fucking that cum further into your pussy, flooding your insides with its warm goo. “S…sho good.” He mutters, in awe at the sight of your quivering pussy practically drinking what he’s given it. “Do…do you want more?” He asks, those big innocent eyes watching you for an answer. Not that it mattered, he was getting what he wanted by any means.

Matt’s a little nasty bitch I like him

[evilwrongdoer]

bella ramsey x f!reader, they invite the reader onto the tlou set and introduce them to pedro

word count: 1,6k

I kinda went my own way with this one, hope you like it!

You were nearly buzzing with excitement.

The car was dark, the sun had yet to rise and the tinted windows just made it seem more like nighttime.

You understood though, riding in a car with a soon-to-be celebrity had its pros and cons.

Bella was staring out their window, fiddling with their rings as you stared in their direction, trying not to be too obvious.

She had invited you onto the set of a new upcoming series that she was playing in, "The last of us", a higly anticipated video game adaptation that was likely to give Bella a fair amount of fame.

You wondered if he was nervous. If the idea of gaining so many fans overnight scared them, or maybe excited them, like their mere presence did to you.

The two of you had known each other for a little over a year now, meeting at a small cast party one of your friends invited you to.

You had gotten lost, or rather, your friend had left you. You sipped reluctantly on your long island ice tea, which you regretted buying  since your friend had disappeared and "drunk in a room full of strangers" wasn't exactly your idea of a fun night.

You sat at a high table in the corner of the club, fiddling with your straw and wishing you had just stayed home, when suddenly, a beautiful person sat next to you, and all of a sudden you were happy your friend had left you.

The two of you chatted for the rest of the party, and in talking to them you felt as if the whole world disappeared around you. He was absolutely mesmerising and he looked at you in a way no one ever had before. Despite your intense feelings towards them, you were too intoxicated to truly know if they felt the same, and too scared to do anything about it if they did, so the two of you became friends. No, more than that, best friends, and even though you wanted more than that, you decided a little Bella was better than no Bella.

After that, you were inseparable, hanging out at every chance you had, causing quite a few of Bella's friends to ship you.

A few weeks ago, Bella invited you to the set of the last of us. You were quite happy but never really thought it would happen as you didn't want to get in the way of him while he was at work.

Now, here you were, freezing your ass off somewhere on the outskirts of Alberta, Canada.

They were set to film parts of episode three today, and you really hoped you'd get to see Bella act in some scenes.

You watched as they set up cameras, lights, and most importantly, the snack table.

You and Bella hadn't really talked that morning, apart from the odd weather comment and loose small talk. You figured it was because of the cold, or the fact that she wasn't really a morning person, but some part of you knew that wasn't really true.

The two of you got to talking more as they got into costume, and you even got to meet one of his co-stars.

"Okay, would you rather live as a whale for a year or.... live as a horse for 6 months?" You questioned, looking at Bella with wide eyes as a make-up artist painted blood and dirt onto her face.

You sat backwards in a crappy plastic foldout chair, now in a trailer as Bella got ready for filming.

"As a horse, duh, it's half the time," He replied, looking straight forward into the mirror as to not disturb the artist's work.

"Yeah but like, horses are like super weak, if you break your leg or something they'll shoot you straight in the head," You gestured as the make-up artist looked at you confused.

"Ah! Don't say that, we're literally supposed to be on horses in a few weeks!" They grimaced, fearing for the horses.

"I never took you for a horse lover," you shrugged, folding your arms under your neck and watching as Bella's make-up came to life on her face, "Same though, I have thalassophobia,"

You stared directly at Bella now, knowing that you could say you were "looking at the make-up" or "just thinking about stuff" if they asked you about it later.

You watched as she messed with her cuticles or bit her cheek, and again took to wondering what was going through her head.

After she finished getting ready, the two of you walked quietly onto set, where you just so happened to stumble upon one of Bella's co-stars.

Pedro Pascal.

You wanted to scream. To just drop dead right then and there. But that would be all too embarrassing. You had been a fan of him since you saw your first movie, and you even had a crush on him when you were younger.

He wasn't as intimidating as you thought he'd be, although that's probably because he looks 6'3 but he's really 5'11.

Bella smiled warmly at him, differently from how she smiled at you. You wondered whether that was a good thing or not.

"Pedro! This is my... friend that i told you about!" Bella spoke, happiness filling their voice, and you threw a kind smile on your face, pretending as if you didn't hear them pause.

"Hi! y/n, right? I've heard so much about you!" Pedro gleamed, leaning in for a hug.

You hugged him tightly, something about him making you feel safe and at home. You finally understood why he played so many father figure roles.

You briefly introduced yourself to him and chatted a bit before letting the both of them leave to filming.

It took quite a few hours, with Bella getting a total of three breaks in which the two of you barely spoke, tension completely filling any room you were in together.

You planned to confront him about his cold behavior, at first feeling angry, and then later sad. You once again pondered the nature of the way they had been acting. Did she all of a sudden lose interest in you? Maybe they weren't feeling well? No, that couldn't be it, if they were feeling well enough to act, she was feeling well enough to not ignore you. Maybe something was up with him?

You let your thoughts drive you as you stared in one spot for what felt like eternity.

In the background of your thoughts you could faintly hear someone talking, something you chose to ignore, thinking it was just some far-away conversation.

"Hello? y/n? I asked you if you were ready to leave?" Someone spoke, trying to break you out of your haze.

A sharp snap in front of your face made you remember where you were again, and you now looked around as the staff was cleaning up things that you could've swore they'd just set up.

"Huh?" You looked up at Bella, blinking to make sure it was really them.

"There you are, what happened? I kept asking you if you were ready to leave and you just continued staring at the ground," Bella stared at you, their eyebrows furrowed in an emotion you couldn't place.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Let's go." You quickly muttered, grabbing your bag and throwing away the now-stale cookie that you'd been holding for over 20 minutes.

"Well, lead the way?" You looked at Bella, waiting for her to start walking.

They stared at you and shook their head, then immediately began walking.

The two of you walked silently to the car, as you desperately tried to build up the courage to talk to her.

As you got in the car, you began,

"Hey, so, how come you've been so quiet today?" You asked Bella, putting on your seatbelt carefully.

"Oh I was just,-" They cleared their throat as if looking for an excuse "Tired, y'know?" She was looking into your eyes now, albeit reluctantly.

You tried to think of something to retort, although their excuse, true or not, seemed believable enough for you to let it go.

"Yeah, okay." You looked down, giving up on your now long gone plan of confrontation.

It's not like you knew what you were confronting them for anyway.

She was just being weird, and she'd been weirder before, it's not exactly like this was a first.

You were so deep into your thoughts that you almost forgot how close together you and Bella were sitting. So lost in your head you barely noticed your eyes slowly fluttering shut, or your head leaning onto Bella's shoulder as you slowly fell asleep. 

Bella was blushing hard, the darkness in the car doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he was absolutely smitten by you. 

Your breathing was soft and even as you unknowingly snuggled closer to Bella in your sleep.

They were frozen, sitting straight up like a statue with their eyes blown wide and their face red. She thanked god that the car ride home was fairly long, wishing you could stay like this forever. This was why he was being so weird, the more he spent time with you the more difficult it proved to talk to you without blushing or stuttering or just straight up freezing when you spoke. 

You meant everything to her and they weren't about to let some stupid crush get in the way of your friendship.

Slowly, Bella got more and more comfortable until it came to the point where they no longer could keep their eyes open. She carefully lay her head on yours and fell asleep as well, the two of you now clinging to each other like velcro, not bothering to care about the driver, or the fact that you were in a car, or the fact that "Best friends" weren't usually that clingy.

Ok, this took way too long to write and I think you can CLEARLY tell how touch starved I am, but anyway, enjoy!

[kohakurin8]

Canada Day

An Aziracrow fanfic

It was July, and a rather warm one at that. Warm, but not too hot; just enough to be pleasant.

At least, that was the weather in Canada.

“I still don't quite get why you wanted to visit Canada, angel,”

Crowley inquired with his hands in his pockets. They were standing on the sidewalk, watching a festive but quaint parade march its way down the street.

At least, that's what Aziraphale was watching happily. Crowley, however, was thankful that his dark glasses hid the little glances he kept stealing.

“Well, what's not to get, dear boy?”

Aziraphale responded, smiling at the floats of cheerful folks followed by a spirited marching band.

“It's fun! Look at all the culture we get to enjoy!— You know, I heard that there's no real standard celebration in Canada for their independence day. Isn't that charming? Why, it's a whole country of people just…happy to celebrate and be themselves, even just for a single day.”

“Well, when you put it like that …”

Crowley made a sort of mocking expression, caught somewhere between wanting to look cool and indifferent but also being completely moved by his angel's words. After all, it was hard to remain unswayed when Aziraphale spoke like that.

His smile was like the gentle sunshine of a spring day.

“Alright, guess we might as well enjoy this Canada Day business. Where to next, angel?”

Aziraphale turned away from the parade to think for a moment, scanning the different stands which had taken over the sidewalks and street a bit farther down.

“Hm, let's see… Do you think they have anywhere that sells books?”

“Mmm, dunno,”

Crowley replied, looking around for himself.

“Looks like it's mostly carnival games, kiddy rides, ‘n confections.”

“Confections, you say?”

The demon immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing when Aziraphale turned to look at him with excitement and eyes as bright as stars.

Crowley's biggest weakness.

~~

Before long, the two had acquired a handful of Canadian sweets to keep them company as they perused the various attractions.

“Oh, these are simply wonderful!”

Aziraphale exclaimed as he bit into a small butter tart. He had an order of about five of the sugary treats in a small bag, with a moderately sized Nanaimo Bar at the bottom saved for later.

“But terribly sweet. So, so sweet.”

“Well, s’long as you like it, angel,”

Crowley replied, taking a lick of his strawberry cheesecake lolly. He never entirely understood how Aziraphale could love nearly every food he came into contact with, but it still always made the demon happy to watch. After all, it was thanks to Crowley that Aziraphale came to love food in the first place, and that was something he was always quite proud of.

“So what do you want to do from here? Anything catch your fancy?”

“Hm? Mm…”

Aziraphale was admittedly half distracted by the sticky-sweet treat, attempting to draw his attention back to the various attractions.

“Oh! Crowley, dear, are you any good at ring toss?”

“Hm, I reckon pretty decent at it,”

That was a lie.

“Want me to win ya something, angel~?”

Crowley smirked, which made Aziraphale start to stumble over his words. That wily serpent…whenever he acted so cool and confident like that, it made the angel feel things he couldn't even attempt to describe.

“Oh! Uhm.. Well, ah… I, I don't suppose you have to. If you… don't want…”

The stammering only made Crowley more confident. He was already sashaying to the ring toss stand with that ridiculously smug smirk, causing Aziraphale to hurriedly trot after him.

However, the game they were met with was … much more challenging than originally planned.

“This isn't bloody ring toss!”

Crowley griped, holding up a plastic “ring” that was actually shaped like a maple leaf.

“You can't just put a hole in anything and call it a ring!”

“My dear boy, calm down!”

Aziraphale attempted to calm Crowley. Though, as he knew that wouldn't go anywhere, he instead turned to the young woman attending the attraction.

“I'm terribly sorry, miss.”

“Oh, don't worry! It's fine, rea—”

“Don't apologize for a shitty game, angel!”

Crowley interjected, even more furious as his twelfth toss had kissed the rim of the pole and skipped away. Under any other circumstances, the demon couldn't have cared less about playing the game, let alone how good he was at it or how much miracled money he wasted on it.

But this was different.

This was for his angel.

And he'd be blessed if he didn't win that silly life-sized plush rabbit for Aziraphale to pull out of a silly magician’s hat, just for Crowley to see the silly smile on his silly angelic face.

Seeing as Crowley was clearly losing his mind over this, Aziraphale couldn't bear it any longer. He sighed, watching his demon begin to smoke (quite literally!) and performed a sly miracle of his own.

Suddenly, all of Crowley’s shots were perfect. Even the ones that seemed impossible.

“Congratulations, sir! Guess the 20th time's the charm, ey?”

The attendant giggled as she presented Crowley with a white rabbit plush, bearing a red maple leaf on each side.

“Yeah, yeah. Come off it. Thanks,”

Crowley took his prize, hiding his giddy bashfulness under layers of swank and swaying hips as he left the attraction. Aziraphale followed him, incapable of keeping his own smug grin to himself.

“See? If you just keep trying—”

“Here, angel,”

The demon interrupted Aziraphale, nonchalantly handing him the rabbit.

“You can...use it for your magic act or something. ‘s real soft.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with surprise as he took the plush, as if his heart was touched in the softest way imaginable. Crowley could never tell if the angel was genuinely that dense or if it was all an act, but it still never ceased to give him flutters in his stomach.

“Oh, Crowley… You were doing all that for me? Is that why you were getting so ruffled?”

“Don't think too hard about it, angel. Let's just move on.”

~~

The pair eventually came upon another carnival game during their walk, which made Aziraphale stop and stare for a moment. After walking past him a few paces, Crowley spun around and matched back to his angel's side.

“I say…. What exactly is this game? Whack-a-Beaver?”

“Mm? Looks like…humans are bludgeoning fake beavers… Seems fun enough.”

“Fun? What ever do you think is fun about hurting animals??”

“Ahh, c'mon, angel. They're not real! If you can't understand what's fun about it, then why don't you,” he made a flouncy sort of movement with his hands. “Ehhhhhh, you know. Try it out for yourself.”

“What? Try it out?”

Aziraphale made an expression that was somewhere between indignation, anxiety, and consideration.

“Ohhh, I don't know…”

“C'mon, Aziraphale! It's your turn to play a carny game!”

Unfortunately, Crowley was already shoving him to the stand.

Before he knew it, the angel was standing before a medium box with six holes where squishy, mechanical beavers would pop out and taunt him.

“So, if I'm not mistaken… Whenever a beaver pops out of one of the holes, I'm to give it a whack with this…comical mallet?”

Aziraphale honestly wasn't sure whether to be delighted or disturbed by this game.

“You got it!”

The gentleman manning the game smiled brightly, turning the machine on.

“It's as simple as that. Get ready, here they come!”

Crowley stood to the side and smirked as Aziraphale nearly panicked before the game even started. However, despite the incredibly campy Pop-Goes-The-Weasle tune playing from the game, the angel was able to compose himself. He was even able to whack a couple beavers!

Until it got faster.

“Uh… C-Crowley…? Crowley dear Lord, they're so fast!”

As Aziraphale struggled with his poor celestial brain being in panic-lock, Crowley couldn't help but chuckle.

“Maybe you should channel some of that pent up frustration with Heaven and whatnot? Hitting things is a great way to release anger.”

“Pent up frustration? I don't have any pent up frustration, I—”

Still attempting to whack all the beavers, and failing miserably at it, the angel’s protests were cut short.

“What about when the Gavotte went out of style?”

“Oh, that's just humans. I can't possibly be angry about that—”

“What about when Jack died in Titanic?”

“Well, that's really more sad than mad—”

“How about when Beelzebub tried to melt me in a bath of bloody Holy Water?!”

PING!!

There it was, the chord which struck Aziraphale’s sore spot. As soon as Crowley mentioned that awful day, he was able to hit the much faster beavers in the head. Suddenly, the concept made sense.

“Oh… Oh! I think I've got it now!”

The particularly unhinged look on Aziraphale's face was beyond unnerving for the nice man running the game, but even more attractive to the proud demon watching him.

He was starting to have a rather fun day.

~~

By the time night had descended upon the Canada Day festival, Crowley was lying on his back upon a picnic blanket, admiring the stars above. It was such a clear and beautiful night, but all Crowley could think about was the lovely day he'd had with his angel.

His angel, who was currently reading a book beside him as they waited for the festival’s fireworks show.

“Hey… Aziraphale?”

“Hm? Yes, dear?”

Aziraphale responded without looking up from his novel, instead carefully turning a page before taking a bit of the poutine between them.

“I uh…. I wanted to say, thanks for convincing me to come here. It's been fun.”

“Well, I'm glad you think so! I knew it would be fun. But, you realize it isn't over yet, right? I've heard their little fireworks show is simply magnificent.”

“Yeah, yeah. I'll see for myself in a bit. Couldn't possibly compete with the birth of a nebula.”

Fwoom… POP!

It was already starting! A burst of bright green consumed the sky, catching everyone's attention. Crowley sat up and Aziraphale set aside his book as the rest of the crowd uttered scattered “Oo”s and “Ahh”s. Another burst of color shot into the sky, this time bright orange. More followed, each firework vibrant and beautiful. Some of them erupted into various shapes, while others crackled across the sky.

Crowley was absolutely captivated by the fire in the sky, and when Aziraphale noticed this, he couldn't help but take a moment to admire it. It reminded him of when they'd first met, while Crowley was creating the stars. A lot of things had changed since then, but Crowley…Crowley was still always Crowley.

Aziraphale always loved that about him.

He loved that while everyone else was fooled by those dark glasses, he could still always tell exactly what Crowley was thinking behind them.

He knew what lies behind those glasses.

“Wh— Hey, angel?!”

Crowley was taken aback as Aziraphale suddenly lifted the glasses from his face.

“Dear, you deserve to watch the show with your eyes. Unperturbed.”

Aziraphale’s smile was so bright… Brighter than the fireworks. Brighter than all the stars in the sky.

“Beautiful…”

“S…sorry…?”

Shit. He said that out loud.

So soft and low yet so impactful.

Did Aziraphale's heart stop?

It felt like his heart stopped.

Ironically, it felt like Crowley's had too.

“Crowley… I'm going to kiss you…”

“Wait, what—?”

It was like magic.

So perfect… So magical… The way Aziraphale caressed Crowley's chin and tilted it up so their lips could meet. The way the fireworks seemed to burst in time with their heartbeats.

It left Crowley overflowing with passion. With love. Emotions which overflowed into their warm embrace, ignorant of the world which surrounded them.

It was perfect.

[beggingwolf]

2 - sidgeno

things you said through your teeth

"I can't allow this," said Jameson.

"Yes you can," said Babcock.

"He's one good hit away from heat. I just ran his levels. They're astronomical. It's incredible he's even lucid. He isn't fit to play."

"Yes I am," Sid lied.

He could smell Babcock from where he sat on the medical table. He didn't particularly care for what he wanted to do with an alpha so close. He didn't think Babcock was attractive at all. Yet, he wanted to part his legs and slouch back onto his palms, like Babcock could see the fleshy thickness of his thighs through his warmup sweats.

"You're not," Jameson said.

Sid's eyes flicked to the doorway, where Steve Yzerman had been standing for the last four minutes, summoned into the middle of the debate. He hadn't said a single word yet, and had just listened as Babcock and Team Canada's doctor went at each other.

"Sid wants to play," Steve finally said, "so Sid's playing. That's the end of it, Carl."

Jameson looked like he'd bit his tongue clean off. He stared at Steve, and then at Sid, clearly at a loss.

"If you get claimed out there, there isn't shit I can do," he finally said. "There isn't shit the nation of Canada can do. We're in Russia right now. We're playing by their rules. If a single one of them decides to put you down on the ice and—"

"We get the picture," Steve said dryly.

Jamesone threw up his hands and blew out of the room. Steve didn't move for him, forcing the doctor to shuffle past. He raised his eyebrows at Babcock, who shook his head wryly.

"Always the hero, Stevie," he muttered. He didn't look at Sid again before he left, which Sid knew was good and also felt instinctively displeased by. Sid was, after all, by far the most interesting thing in the room.

When it was just Sid and Steve, the older omega looked over the younger with a brutal, unimpressed scan.

"You said you were good to go."

"I am," Sid said.

"Then prove it. Get back in the locker room. They dosed you up?"

"Scent suppressors. The, ah, suppository one."

"It's not doing much," Steve told him. "You've got to put the scent collar on too. Don't fucking argue, Sidney, you're already pushing it."

Sid shut his mouth, peeved.

"We're winning that fucking medal. But you need to make sure you're a help on the ice, not a hindrance."

"I won't be."

"You need to make sure," Steve insisted, and he pinned Sid with a stare that was heavier than any look Steve had ever given him. Steve was an intense guy, but he was funny. He liked cracking a joke, and he liked being two steps ahead of you in a conversation, and he was very good at making things uncomfortable, fast, when it served his purposes. Sid had never had it directed at him.

Steve had been an omega in the league long before Sid. It had been worse then, even if it wasn't quite good now. The weight of those years was in his gaze now.

"I'll make sure," Sid said. "I'm not going to be a liability."

"Good," Steve said, abruptly breezy. "Because if you become one, I'm letting whichever Russian picks you off the ice take you. Like a can of beans off the shelf at Loblaw's."

Sid frowned at him. Steve looked back with an expression that held no mockery or frustration or anger. This was just the black-and-white of it all: Sid would either play or he wouldn't. That didn't matter as much to Steve as winning for Canada did.

"Harsh," he finally settled on, trying to make it sound like a joke even though it wasn't. Steve saw through him immediately.

"That was much kinder than I got when I was your age," Steve told him, finally moving out of the door in a clear invitation. Sid slid off the medical table and left a wet patch behind. "I don't say that to be an ass. It just was what it was, and is what it is. I want you play if you can play."

"I want that gold," Sid told him as they headed down the hallway.

"Good," Steve said. "Now keep your pants on and get it done."

-

Steve was one of the first omegas to do it. He was, by far, the most successful omega to ever do it. He'd been Sid's blueprint all the way through childhood, juniors, his rookie year: he kept himself in line, he kept it professional, and he focused on hockey. His meds were carefully doled out to him, and he was a functional hockey player. Steve hadn't even gotten married until he'd hung up his skates. He popped out a few kids for his wife and did the coaching thing, the GM thing, and now he was managing Team Canada. Respected, clean-cut, textbook.

Sid had all that going for him until a gangly alpha tripped over the runner in Nathalie Lemieux's foyer and sent it all to hell.

He and Geno had needed to be separated physically. Sid's collarbone and ear were mauled, bloody from Geno's bite attempt. Sid, in turn, had gouged out such a long strip from Geno's forearm that it had almost needed stitches.

They were taken to the hospital separately. They had been dosed, and then dosed again. Sid was fairly certain they'd given him a horse tranquilizer to stop the heat he'd been triggered into. The next time they'd met, it had been through a glass door at the arena. It had taken the team the better part of a year to be convinced that their new suppressant routines were trustworthy.

The problem, as it turned out, was that Sid wanted to fuck Geno very, very badly even when he wasn't being puppeted by his hormones.

The suppressants had been bad enough. With the language barrier, and the cloying, careful watch the team kept over Sid regarding alphas, it had been death by a thousand cuts. He got to see Malkin, and smell his sweaty, earthy scent, and he needed to pretend like his reaction was normal. He'd been unwilling to compromise his image and his standing with the team.

Then they'd won a Cup, and Geno had slowly come out of his shell, and his English improved by miles, and—most important of all—he kept inching closer to Sid, kept meeting his gaze across the locker room.

They'd finally fucked about it last season. It had been incredible, even outside of heat. It was real, though they hadn't had the discussion about bond marks or mates or what kind of future they envisioned. For now, Sid was still Sid: hockey player and Geno was his teammate. That Sid had a leaky cunt around Geno was incidental unless they were in bed. Or a couch. Or, memorably, the kitchen island at Sid's apartment.

The problem with it wasn't that they didn't talk about it. The problem was that the effectiveness of Sid's suppressants had slowly been changing, and it had been manageable with Geno around to tug him into a hotel room and fuck it away before it became heat. Sid didn't want more of a dose; he liked smelling what little of Geno he could. They could take care of it anyways, and self-sufficiency was always the route Sid chose to take. Their little tryst was theirs, and secret, and well-kept.

His house of cards had begun to crumble when Geno had been sent to Team Russia and Sid to Team Canada, and fraternizing wasn't punished but it wasn't encouraged. For this brief moment, they were rivals. Geno had the weight of his homeland on him, and he took it seriously. Sid, in turn, gave him the space to make his commitment easier and more obvious.

It had all been going swimmingly until he'd begun waking up sweating in his shitty dorm bed. And then his teammates had started sniffing at him.

The solution was simple in theory: Sid had to keep his pants on, his head down, and douse himself with as many scent blockers as the team had. It felt much more difficult when Sid tugged the thick fabric of the scent collar over his head and onto his neck before the final game of the Olympics. It felt like it was strangling him. The emanating odor of nothingness from it was eerie and deeply wrong.

"You stink," Kuni told him summarily in the locker room.

"Croz always stinks," Getzy said as he passed by. "This does help with the scent of, what, desperation?"

"Stuff it," Sid said. He fussed with the stitched edge of the collar; the fabric was thick, like a knee brace. It was going to restrict movement. He hated it.

But when Benn walked by and the corner of Sid's mouth grew wet with saliva, he accepted he had no other choice.

Geno spotted the protective collar the moment Sid stepped onto the ice. His gaze burned into Sid's helmet, and then his back, and then into the side of his head for the anthems and Sid's standard loop around their side of the ice.

Omitting facts to Geno hadn't been lying, Sid reasoned. It had just been a quick-developing situation. He'd handled weird heat stuff before Geno came into his life. He'd deal with it after.

"Why the fuck you playing?" Ovechkin asked him between whistles. "You smell."

Sid and Geno were rarely on the ice against one another, until the second period began and the Russians grew desperate as the ice tipped in Canada's favor.

Sid refused to bend down over the faceoff dot first. He knew what it looked like on a good day. With the way Geno was looking at him now, he very nearly didn't trust him.

Geno stiffly bent over first. Sid followed.

"Sid," Geno whispered, and it distracted Sid enough that the puck as dropped and gone before he could realize it.

Later, along the boards, Geno's stick pressed into Sid's lower back. It was strange, purposeful, instead of Geno's hips.

"The fuck you doing, Sid?"

"I didn't do anything, eh? Don't worry about it. We'll think about it after the tournament."

"Sid, it's like, different here."

"I know, okay? No one's going to try anything," Sid told him. He felt confident in it, too.

That also hadn't technically been a lie, because Sid had believed it in the moment. He'd been wrong to believe it, and that also technically hadn't been his fault. Heat did fucked-up things to a brain, and while SId had been victim to that a few times in his life, he'd been shielded by military-grade suppressants nine-and-a-half times out of ten. He had, by all accounts, done his best.

It just so happened that his best finally wasn't good enough on the ice in Sochi, where a Russian defenseman lost an edge, took him out on his way down, and landed atop him.

It happened very fast, on a level that was more physical than mental. Sid was upright, then he was down, then he was covered by another body, then there was damp heat on his face. He knew what was happening, but not in a way that meant he could resist it. It was all distant and removed. His limbs were heavy. He slowly realized he'd been leaking into his leggings for the entire game.

He knew when Geno ripped the alpha off of him, though, becuase that familiar scent engulfed him fully.

"G," Sid gasped. The world was very small, narrowed down to Geno's huge, scared eyes as he leaned over Sid's body, his hair wild from where his helmet had been torn off.

Geno disappeared from sight then, tucked away against Sid's protected neck. The fabric got tighter as it was tugged up, pressing hard on his Adam's apple as inch by precious inch of Sid's neck was exposed. He was being strangled. He was getting hard from it. Maybe he'd already been hard. Geno's big hand was on his jaw. His mouth was pressed against Sid's cheek, so close to where Sid wanted it. Geno's words hissed out through his teeth, clenched tight like if he opened his jaw, he'd have it around Sid's neck in a second flat.

"Sid, I have to. It's me or it's someone else. Pick."

"Fuck, yeah," Sid wheezed out, and he turned his neck into those clenched teeth, asking for it, just like the first time they'd met.

[shuusagi]

One Month (part 1 of/?)

Hi I wanted to create a Brahms x reader that has a reader with a fairly dark/intense past where Brahms could sympathize with (also angst *eyebrow wiggle*). I got tired of the goody goody Nannies so it's time for a crude, odd and lowkey perverted one. She's a slasher fan too 👀 Brahms decides to make a game of their encounter, and the reader slowly warms up to this cat and mouse chase. Definitely a bit of a self insert. Obviously lol.

Warnings: I re-read these but I'm not the best at writing so it may show. dubcon, somnophilia, sexual assault (past, Brahms could NEVER), abusive ex, scars (none self harm), blood.

Down the gravel road, all you could see were trees and other sorts of foliage all masked with the colours of Autumn. You make a sidenote on how this area would be perfect for a killer. Maybe a British Jason Voorhees, you giggle to yourself. It was a rainy morning, clouds grey and the landscape aromatic with petricor. Winds howl in the distance, a shiver runs down your back at the thought of how chilly it must be outside. But you didnt mind, if anything you felt at home with this kind of weather, warming up to a fireplace with a nice book sounds pleasant right about now.

"We're almost at the Heelshire's ma'am." Your taxi driver broke you out of your daydream, as he stepped outside to unlock the iron gate. You let out a yawn and stretch, feeling your back muscles release from the tension that had built up. Ah, that feels so much better.

Slowly you come up to an old looking mansion, burgundy and grey with its brick siding. It looked... huge. Maybe it won't be so bad here, but then again anything is better than Canada right now. You groan as hundreds of flashbacks come and go in the blink of an eye. Let's not start.

You thank the taxi driver and give him an extra 10, stepping out into the cold breeze of the Autumn air, you are finally able to take everything in. The house was giant. Rough brick and mortar covered the outside, the doors were hidden behind a giant archway, deep within held two dark brown doors. Classy. The windows were plentiful. But I guess not much shine would show in this type of weather. The house was surrounded in pine and maple trees, a smattering of green, red and yellow creating a whimsical look to everything. The air smelt fresh, you inhale deeply as the cold air fills your lungs.

You quickly walk up towards the steps, feeling the rain chilling your bunnyhug sweater and ripped jeans. Before you could even knock, Mrs. Heelshire welcomes you in. She pauses and looks you up and down, a small sort of grimace at your appearance. Your face grows red and you lift your left arm to rub behind your head.

"Hi it's... nice to meet you Mrs. Heelshire.." Your tone wavered as she eyed you up.

She was a smaller woman, with fluffy grey-silver hair. She was dressed in a lovely red button up shirt with a plaid skirt. Her voice was dainty and proper.

"Not what I expected at all, come in before you catch a cold Miss. (l/n)."

You walk through a corridor, up the stairs to meet Mr. Heelshire. The stairs were a deep mahogany, stylized to the proper century it was built in- 1890. You look over at the old styled portraits, wondering if they were family from long ago.

You turn the corner, face to face with Mr. Heelshire. He was a slightly short man- well in comparison to you. You were 5'6", slightly thick with long (h/c) locks. Mr. Heelshire wore a fancy grey-black suit, it fit him perfectly. You shook Mr. Heelshires hand, and he moves to introduce you to Brahms. Only thing was, HE was a doll. A. Fricking. Doll. You stood there awestruck. "This is Brahms Miss. (L/n)."

You snickered. Then quickly realize their distasteful frowns, and stand yourself upright and clear your throat. "Uh- good morning, its nice to meet you... Brahms." You grab his porcelain hand and shake it gently. It was smooth and cool to the touch.

Mrs. Heelshire leads you out of the room, down the hall into his bedroom. You trip on the long rug in the corridor. "You will wake Brahms up and dress him every day at 7 am." You nod, following her once more. "He is to have learning time for 3 hours, 5 days a week." She turns to you, once more you nod. "Read him poems, and be sure to announciate your words loudly. and. carefully." She punctuates her last words. You nod. She clears her throat. "Y-yes. Ma'am." You fumble on your words.

"Now then, let's have dinner!"

Brahms pov:

He watches as you take your first steps inside the mansion. You were damp from head to toe, wearing a grey sweatshirt and ripped pants. He observed your careful steps, noticing how you tried to take off your brown boots. You looked like a dream, something that could only be thought up by an angel itself. You were a tiny bit chubby and he wondered how it would feel to hold you, snuggle up close to your tummy. Long, (h/c) hair that went down your back almost to your hips. You had a slightly noticeable scar down your left eye, a faded pink and thin. He pondered at how you could've gotten it. Surely no one would want to hurt his new plaything?

He followed as you walked down the corridor to meet his father, the way you walked was so hypnotic. Slightly clumsy but also confident, an odd mixture for sure.

His belly did flips when he saw you smile at the doll. Wow, the way it sparkled like in every romance novel he's ever been told. The way you held the dolls hand, so gentle yet firm. You were certainly an enigma to him. He wondered what it would be like to hold your hand in his large ones.

Y/N

After dinner Mr. Heelshire showed you around the yard. "There's a pest problem.. but its more so that Mrs. Heelshire worries they'll get in the walls." He scratches his head feeling awkward.

"You know, it wasn't always like this." He says, "but what Mrs. Heelshire wants she gets." He chuckled.

He picks up a trap, you open up the garbage bag and watch as he tosses the dead rat in.

"I hope you do enjoy your stay, and I hope this isn't too tedious for you." You could tell he was the more laid back one.

~~~~~~~

You walk Mr. And Mrs. Heelshire leave the yard, waving to them. You turn around and sigh, a loud "fuck" spills from your mouth. God it was so hard to be proper and perfect. Or as close to perfect as you could be. You clean up a bit and toss Brahms on the bed. Meh, they can't see him anyway so what's the point. You turn in and get ready for bed.

[hourcat]

PLEASE I BEG PLEASE WRUTE JEALOUS PIERRE IF YOU HAVE TIME!

hehe. perhaps a little something. <3

it's not like charles chose to be part of the interview panel he's sitting in right now. if anything, he'd rather not even be here at all: the couch is never all comfortable, and keeping track of the mic is annoying, and somehow it's even more frustrating to get stupid questions about his future at ferrari when he's seated on the interview stage than when he's standing in the tv pen.

besides. if he were going to choose a group of drivers to be interviewed with, the one person he'd select first is noticeably absent. it'd been delightful back in monaco, with pierre sitting knee-to-knee with him and laughing with lewis like they're all old friends. he'd give anything to have that chance again, if only to be able to have a looser, more relaxed start to the race weekend. it's been a few weeks since their last double-header, and if there's one person who knows how to clear his head from all the pre-race noise, it's pierre.

pierre, who'd been banished to the tv pen instead of him. pierre, who he hasn't gotten to spend a whole lot of time with since monaco. it's not like they're not talking for a reason--at least, not one that charles knows about. they're picking up mid-season, sure, and they'd mutually agreed before the season even started that canada could not get the better of their private life again, but they didn't go out together once during the break between spain and montreal. pierre hasn't cornered him in the motorhome block to kiss him silly in weeks. and yes, charles understands he's busy--charles is busy, too. but he'd be more understanding if he hadn't gotten an eyeful of pierre hooking a too-comfortable arm around yuki during last week's parade.

he knows he's being ridiculous. they're friends. charles likes yuki, who's actually just sitting down on the other end of the couch now. but seeing them together never fails to trigger something ugly and green in his chest. for so long, pierre has only touched charles that way. and then yuki comes along, and pierre gets close to him, and suddenly...charles needs to share? spoiled as it might be, he hates the thought more than anything. he just wants pierre to get close again.

and then, like the devil on his shoulder has sprung to life, esteban sits down to his left and greets him in soft french, and charles knows exactly how to get what he wants. so he shifts on the ugly couch, adjusts the brim of his hat, and gives his old acquaintance a big smile. "estie," he greets in return, reaching a hand out to give him a quick fistbump.

like clockwork, the media team's cameras start shuttering. charles swallows down an even bigger smile. incoming.

-

charles is almost embarrassed at how quickly the plan works. he says goodbye to the guys on the couch with him and wanders off to where his team is waiting behind the scenes, and manages to walk by himself for five whole minutes before he hears familiar footsteps gaining on him rapidly from behind. josh, the new social media admin, gives charles a look when he glances over, and then falls back.

he's just in time. "hey, calamar," pierre's voice is low in his ear as he sidles up to match his pace. their shoulders bump, clearly too hard to be accidental. "how was your media day?"

charles pointedly keeps his eyes forward. "it was fine," he answers, trying to swallow the knowing grin that comes with pierre's, ah, tendencies. "the usual, you know."

pierre makes a strangled noise somewhere in the back of his throat. "the usual?" he sounds disbelieving. he sounds...a little angry. charles shivers. they walk together for another few steps of silence before pierre speaks again, that same strain in his voice. "come here, charles, i want to show you something--" he grabs the crook of charles' elbow, just this side of rough, and leads him to the first gap in the team motorhome lineup. charles shivers again.

"what is this about, pierrot?" but he knows he can't hide it, can't hide that he's getting exactly what he'd been after in the first place, and pierre can tell. the look on his face shifts from almost genuinely upset to something noticeably hungrier.

"don't play dumb with me," pierre answers lowly. "i saw you up there with--with esteban." oh, he sounds horribly jealous. "and alex."

like alex had done anything to be part of this flare-up. he wants to laugh. "i was just chatting with them," charles murmurs, lifting his hands in innocence, but pierre growls something indecipherable under his breath and drags them around another corner, pressing charles' back to the warm metal of the motorhome. (it's alpine's, funnily enough. charles wonders if pierre's press officer knows where he is right now.)

"you looked awfully cozy," pierre bites back. he steps closer, pushing more into charles' space, and god it's been too long since they've been so close. "i didn't think you two were that close."

"mmm, it has been a while," charles concedes. "we were just catching up, mon petit, do not be so jealous." he reaches up to pat pierre's cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along the sharp line of his best friend's beard as he loses the battle with hiding his own amusement. "you know there is only one alpine driver for me." a rumbly noise spills from the frenchman's drawn-tight mouth. "come on, pierrot."

pierre presses even closer. charles watches him open his mouth to speak, then clench it shut so that he can see the way his muscles tic from effort. instead, he dips forward and presses a chaste, scruffy kiss to his cheek. "i hate it when he's so close to you." the words are soft, like some kind of confession. charles, for a moment, feels bad.

and then he remembers how yuki had giggled under pierre's touch, how easily he'd gone with being manhandled, and the guilt speeds away. "i hate seeing you close to your old teammate, too, you know," he mumbles. if it weren't as breezy out, charles would tug at his windbreaker until his neck was freed from the fabric so that pierre could bite him there--mark him just under the collar, safe from prying eyes, visible only to himself.

instead, he tilts back so pierre can rub his beard against him more.

"and you say i'm jealous." his voice is smug against charles' blush-warmed cheek. "you know it's not like that with yuki, bebe, you know." yes, he does. it doesn't make it any more fun to watch.

"you have not touched me like this in weeks," charles answers, one hand sliding up pierre's back to thread loosely in his wind-tousled hair. "what am i supposed to do?"

pierre kisses his cheek again, this time allowing his teeth to scrape gently. the next one is open-mouthed and wet, so hot against him that charles would drop to his knees right now if it weren't for pierre keeping him upright against the building. "i don't know," he muses into charles' skin. "maybe you could fucking ask." and here it is: exactly what charles had been after just a half-hour ago. pierre's knee is slotted between his thighs, hand gripping so tight through his clothes that he knows he'll have bruises later tonight--primed to drag charles back to their hotel room and eat him out until he cries.

"but mon amour," the monegasque murmurs, grinning when pierre finally moves back enough to properly go in for the kill, "where's the fun in that?"

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Sticking with these stories again! I really love all the updates!

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮

Ah yay thank you!

21 for 👑:

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“No, it’s certainly been entertaining.” Bobby waves a dismissive hand. 

“Just hang tight, okay?” Evan asks Chim. “I’ll call Maddie.”

Chim feels a small jolt of panic. “We’ve been getting a lot of-” 

He is interrupted by the ear splitting wail of the alarm.

“Calls,” Chim finishes. “We’ve been getting a lot of calls.”

“We gotta go,” Bobby says to Chim. “Sorry, Chimney.”

“I’ll tell her you’re here,” Evan assures him. “Go save lives or whatever.”

“Thanks, man,” Chim says.

He turns around to head towards the engine. As he does, he notices Tommy lurking in the background, staring at Evan. It’s like he doesn’t even hear the alarm. Evan walks past him without notice, typing something into his phone. Presumably to Maddie. 

Chim can only hope that with all the chaos of the night, Maddie still thinks he’s worth the effort.

---

21 for 🔮:

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Hershey? 

Bobby dreamt he was in Buck’s hometown?

So, wait… 

“When?” Buck asks in a smaller voice than he expects to leave his mouth. 

It’s just that there are a lot of truly terrible implications to that. So many embarrassing, shameful moments of Buck being a dumb, reckless kid that Bobby could have seen. Stupid stunts. Drunken escapes. Sexual recklessness. He doesn’t want Bobby to have seen any of that! 

“The day Maddie moved out,” Bobby tells him. 

The…

Oh. 

Oh, that wasn’t a very good day at all. Buck vaguely remembers throwing a shoe. 

“Sorry,” Buck mumbles.

“Sorry?” Bobby asks. “Why are you sorry? Do you know why this happened?”

---

21 for 💐:

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 "I was terrified!” 

“I’ve never had anything like that happen to me,” April admits. “But I did almost get eaten by a bear.”

“Wait, what?” May laughs. 

“Okay, eaten is a bit of an exaggeration,” April confesses. “But when I was sixteen, my family did this two-week canoe trip up in Canada. I woke up one morning, left my tent, and I kid you not, there was a huge black bear right in front of me! Just chilling!”

“What did you do?” May asks, amused. 

“Screamed! Duh!” 

“Did you scare it off with all your screaming?” May asks.

“Well, yes," April says. “But for a second there I really thought it was going to eat me.”

“Aren’t black bears sort of dopey?” 

“But I didn’t know that at the time!” 

May laughs. “Well, I’m glad you survived such a harrowing experience.”

---

21 for 🦮:

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And he’s always been right by her side. He feels the way he felt early into being a firefighter, when they wheeled the premature baby from the pipe in the wall up to the hospital’s glass doors, and Bobby told him he didn’t get to go any further. That he had to leave her. He understands it now, but at the time he’d been horrified. 

He’s horrified now. For a lot of reasons. 

It takes Buck a few moments, hands shaking in the vet clinic parking lot, to compose himself. He is flooded with anxiety. What if she dies? What if she’s in horrible pain? What if she has permanent organ damage? What if she can never work again? What if her quality of life isn’t good going forward? What if the organization that donated her takes her back? Confiscates her, because Buck is a neglectful handler? He let a child feed her poison under his watch! 

Cranberry seemed okay when he handed her off. She hadn’t seemed sick or in pain. He has to hold onto that and trust the vets. But it’s fucking hard. He just wants his dog back in his line of sight, where he can hold onto her and not let her go.