#fuck yeah great britain

[alexmurison]

Golden Enys Dodman Arch.  I sat on top of the cliffs watching the crowds in the distance watching the sunset from the Land’s End hotel, whilst I had this view all to myself as the golden light lit up the ocean right through the stone arch.

[mooncqss]

i can‘t believe that britain is now going to spend a shit ton of money on the queen‘s funeral and charles‘ coronation. all while the country is in a cost of living crisis and so many people are depended on food banks.

[canisitsnotlupus]

is MDR1 but it always shocks me when people say BCs weren't bred for sheepdog trials when that's like.. a huge part of the BC's history, that they were the selection of the regional working sheepdogs "collies" that people competed with and literally developed sheepdog trials for the og sporter dogs but also yeah mdr1 isn't really.. in BCs, like it's so quoted as MUST TEST FOR IT! and there's been one case i've heard of with it, and the dog wasn't even confirmed to have it through dna testing, just that's what the owner said it died from.

[ellieluvr420]

You’re Mine (Ellie x reader angst one shot)

DEALER ELLIE SUPREMACY!!!!!! 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

It was silent, neither of you moved or spoke, your eyes were fixed on each other, neither of you daring to look away. Your eyes were glassy and bloodshot and hers were cold and dark, your nose was sore and running as you sniffled holding the tears in your eyes that were begging to be let free. You didn't understand how a girl that shows you as much love as she does could hurt you so bad.

disclaimer: I am in fact british and I've tried to use american vocab in we meet again, darling because I imagined the story set in a US city (NYC in my mind but i left it blank so people could imagine whatever city they wanted but i digress) and i did not enjoy doing that bc ik i still make mistakes and i think it looks goofy so one shots and headcanons and stuff will probs be set in britain, sorry if that is a bit annoying <3

You and Ellie had went to a party at a friend's flat, you had dressed up nice and Ellie had admired you while licking her lips as you got ready.

"You look unreal babe."

"Thank you. Want me to do your makeup after?"

"Yeah but don't blind me this time."

"I didn't fucking blind you, you blinked it into your eyeball, who blinks without warning when you're doing mascara?"

"Someone that blinks normally." You scoff at her and go back to getting ready ignoring her victorious smirk in the mirror.

As you arrived at the party you were both in a great mood, you're immediately greeted by some friends as you walk in and Ellie kisses you on the cheek and takes her leave to go set up on the sofa. Immediately she's swarmed by people looking to get their fix, some wanted weed, some wanted blow, she always had a variety when she went to a party and you can't help the hot feeling in your core as you take in her sitting there, legs comfortably spread with a cigarette hanging from her lips. She had dark grey baggy jeans on, with a black t-shirt that poked out from her hoodie that matched the colour of her jeans, her black converse poke out from the jeans and you never aren't amazed at the state of them, you bought matching converse together and you're both wearing them tonight but they look like entirely different shoes. Her silver chain with a charm that's the first letter of your name is laid on top of her hoodie and the view makes you swoon. Her auburn shaggy hair cut is concealed mostly by her small black beanie, you had played with the hair on show at the back of her neck on the way here, you always loved when she wore a beanie, something about it was just so hot to you.

You had been dancing for hours and chatting when Ellie grabs you and drags you away from your conversation.

“Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Is everything okay?” She doesn’t answer she just continues dragging you out of the flat, she doesn’t release her tight grip on your arm until you’re walking through the door of your shared home. There was a red mark where her hand was and you watched as she froze when she saw the mark.

“Babe what’s going on? Did something happen with a deal?” She chuckles, it’s dark and full of mockery.

“You just don’t fucking get it do you? Are you really this stupid or are you just an attention whore?”

“Excuse me?” Your ears rang as her words hit you, you felt a stabbing pain in your chest as tears pricked behind your eyes begging to release, you couldn’t give her the satisfaction so you chewed on your bottom lip and blinked away the tears while you attempted to swallow the lump in your throat. “What the fuck are you talking about Ellie?”

“You! Fucking parading yourself everywhere and if that wasn’t enough you had to fucking hump Lucy right in front of my fucking face.” She yelled as she walked closer to you, you walked backwards trying to keep some space but as your back hit the wall she closed in on you. “Do you need me to remind you who you belong to hm?”

“Fuck off Ellie.” You push her off of you with every ounce of strength as the dam breaks and the tears begin to flow down your cheeks, you storm away to your shared bedroom with a delusional hope that she wouldn’t follow. You slam the door behind you only for it to immediately be slammed open again, the door smashes into the wall and you stay frozen with your back turned away from her.

“Fuck off Ellie? seriously that’s all you have to say? How about I’m fucking sorry.”

You spin to face her at her statement. “I’M SORRY? I have nothing to be sorry for Ellie. I did nothing wrong.”

“Bullshit.”

“Fine Ellie, tell me exactly what I did wrong then.” Your voice comes out nasally and choked as the tears don’t falter in their pace as they race down your cheeks. You meet her eyes and the look of contempt only makes you sob more.

“You put on that skimpy outfit you know will get you attention then we go to the party and instead of coming to see me and sit with me and make it known that you’re mine, you literally speak to every single other person at the party. You were all over everyone, I’m sure they were embarrassed for you because I fucking was. No wonder you feel like they don’t like you as much anymore, they probably don’t. Oh and just to top it off you then danced with Lucy right in front of me giving me a front row seat to her wandering hands and you being all over it. You’re fucking out of order.”

You scoff at her, you’re genuinely stunned at how she could be so horrible. Ellie had never been like this with you, you were speechless.

“Yeah exactly now you’ve got nothing to say. If you’re gonna be a slut at least own it.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” The tears had stopped, you weren’t upset anymore you were furious, a red film was over your vision as you stomped over to her until your faces were inches away from each other. “Go on. Say it again.”

“I said you’re an attention-seeking slut.” She spat the words out with a venom and a switch flipped in your head. You didn’t speak you just started walking around the room throwing all your essentials into the first bag you could find. She watches while still for a second but as she realises you’re packing she rushes to start taking all the things out of your bag.

“Don’t Ellie. I don’t want to speak to you right now. Leave me alone.”

“No, you’re not leaving.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” She keeps removing the things that you’re packing from your bag until you huff and give up going to look for your car keys. “You can’t drive anywhere, you’re drunk.” You hated to admit she was right in the moment but you knew it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Then I’ll get an uber.” You start searching for your phone until you turn to see Ellie holding it in her hand. You storm over to her but she holds it above your head so you can’t reach. “Ellie give it back I’m serious.”

“I said you aren’t leaving.” The tears begin again as you feel helpless.

“Why do you fucking care? I’m just a slut right, not your girlfriend of three fucking years.”

It’s quiet as you both stand processing everything that’s been said, tears are streaming down your face but you don’t feel like you’re crying anymore. Ellie stands shifting her weight from one side of her body to the other as she fidgets with her fingers. She looks up at you and her heart breaks knowing she’s the reason you’re so upset after having such a good night.

“Why didn’t you come and see me all night? You always come and sit with me while I do my deals at least for a little bit and you didn’t. I rolled us a pink spliff to smoke together and you barely even came near me until you started grinding up against Lucy.” Her voice is soft and quiet, she sounds ashamed of herself because she is, she’s ashamed that she’s let her insecurities cause her to be horrible to the best person in her life, she felt sick with herself, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall of the living room and all she saw looking back at her was a monster.

“Ellie if you wanted to spend time with me you could’ve come and got me. You know I always want to spend time with you, I hadn’t seen loads of those people for ages so I was just catching up. But if you wanted me to come sit all you had to do was come get me and you know I would’ve sat with you until we left. I was dancing with Lucy my straight best friend of 12 years for fucks sake. If something was going on there it would’ve happened already.”

“You sure it hasn’t?” Ellie knows it hasn’t, she knows you would never do that. But her brain isn’t connected to her mouth anymore, her jealousy is the only thing controlling her actions right now, she feels like she’s watching a horrible film where the main character does the opposite of the right thing at every turn.

“You are unbelievable. I have been nothing but a loyal and loving girlfriend to you, I do not deserve this and I don’t have to prove anything to you but seeing as I have nothing to hide, my phone is in your hand. Go on Ellie, if you don’t trust me, go through my phone and prove yourself wrong.” She looks down at the phone but doesn’t make a move to unlock it. Her stillness only ignites the fire of your rage more. “Go on! You know the password, it’s your birthday! So go on Ellie, admit you don’t trust me and go through my phone.”

She stays in her place looking at your phone until she sighs and holds it out to you. “Of course I trust you. You just- you don’t notice how many people’s eyes are on you wherever we go, and it’s never bothered me, I love it, I love that you’re as beautiful as you are, I’m proud to be next to you but when we were at that party all I could see were people trying to take you from me and when I looked at you all I could see was you leaving me.” She sniffles and you see a single tear run down her face that she wipes away as soon as she can. You take your phone from her hand and throw it down onto the sofa next to you before walking to stand right in front of her. She avoids your eyes but you gently nudge her chin so she looks at you.

“Ellie, no one else could ever make me leave you. I love you, you are my world, my heart beats for you Ellie, it has since the day I met you. What will drive me away is if you take out your insecurities and jealousy on me instead of talking to me about it. I won’t stay around to be treated like this. I am better than this and I deserve better than this, I will help you work through this but not if you’re going to do this again.” It was like what you said was the end of the world as she immediately broke down into sobs, the sight stopped you in your tracks as Ellie never cried. You moved slowly like you were handling a bomb as you cupped her cheeks, your hands had barely touched her face before she was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug as she continued crying into your shoulder. You stroked her hair gently and let her cry until she calmed down enough to sniffle and take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, please don’t leave me. I’ll fix it, I won’t get jealous anymore I swear I’m sorry.” She mutters into your shoulder as she cries more, her grip on you tightened almost like she was physically trying to stop you from going anywhere. You wrapped your arms around her neck and cuddle into her more as you walk backwards toward the sofa pulling her down on top of you.

“I’m not going to leave you and we can work on this together, you’re allowed to get jealous but you need to be able to discuss it with me instead of attacking me. I’m sorry for making you feel forgotten, I had no intention of doing that but I’m sorry that I made you feel that way anyway. I love you Ellie and you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, I am so lucky to have you I would never want anyone over you.”

She looks up at you and presses a light kiss to your lips, so sweet it almost rids your lips from the salty remnants of your tears. “I love you more. Thank you for being so good to me.” She doesn’t seem entirely convinced by your description of her but she appreciates the reassurance more than she can explain.

You wrap your legs around her waist and squeeze her so tight you hear a choked groan leave her lips involuntarily. You make eye contact that neither of you break as you brush your knuckles over her cheek.

“I really am sorry. You know I didn’t mean anything I said, I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

“I do El. But it won’t happen again.”

“Never.” You share a timid kiss and she lays her head down on your chest to listen to your heartbeat, it had always soothed her, she feels herself calming and sinking into you until she looks up to see you already looking down at her with a devious smirk. “What’s up babe?”

“You still got that pink spliff from earlier?”

“I love you so much.”

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Black Widow

Summary: How a Black Widow made it out of the Red Room, and onto the 141.

Warnings: there’s a lot of talk of trauma in this, explicit smut, threesomes, jealousy, spitroasting, etc, etc, weirdly long (5k)

Notes: the reader was raised (ish) in the red room but this fic is not at all a part of the mcu – it’s just supposed to be the story of a defector, and how she became a part of the 141

kind of felt guilty while writing this bc it made me feel like ghost was cheating on red fox from the fics by @charnelhouse lmao

feedback and comments are very much appreciated!!!

Masterlist | requests are OPEN! | hmu to be added to one of my taglists!

The first memory you have of an outsider is at eleven years old. You and the other girls are sleeping in the dormitory when Madam Ivanova bursts in and opens the handcuffs binding you all to your beds. She pulls the others from their cots, and you almost don’t notice the man that grabs you by the arm.

He’s wearing a hat you’ve never seen before, and that immediately scares you – you don’t recognize him.

“I’ve found the girls!” he shouts, and others pour in, armed to the teeth. Madam Ivanova is still guiding other girls out of the room, and you can see the fear in her eyes. She’s not a kind person, but she takes care of you. Nothing bad has ever happened to you when you were with her.

Nothing like this.

So you turn around, and punch the man square in the face. It takes him aback, and he stumbles backwards. It gives you just enough time to run from him.

Later, you learn that his name is Price, and that he is with the British. An enemy of the Red Room.

Seven years later, you come face to face with him again. You’re three years into active duty, serving the Red Room, and you look drastically different from what you looked like at eleven.

It’s a mistake from another girl that causes your capture. It’s his face that you see first when the hood is pulled off your face.

In the past few years, he’s been the face of your nightmares, so you stay silent. It surprises you when the British don’t torture you. Instead, they offer you a deal. Provide them with the intel they want, and be free of the Red Room.

It takes you three months to accept that deal, and one more to get Price and his colleague Laswell the things they want.

They give you your pardon, and you move to New Zealand, as far away from Russia and Great Britain as you can.

With a fake passport, fake birth certificate and fake story, you leave all of it behind.

You wake up early, shrieking out of your sleep from a nightmare. Your first thought is to call Sarina, an old colleague who also made it out, but you know that she’s still asleep – at least the people in her time zone are. Instead, your feet carry you outside to the lake.

You fish around in your jacket, finding a cigarette and lighter. There’s a nervous feeling in your gut, ever-present. Trained into you since you can remember. This country is the safest and most isolated you could manage, and yet, there’s always the imperative of looking over your shoulder.

You hear Price walking onto the gravelly beach before you see him.

“You know I moved here to be left alone, right?” you tell him, taking another draw from your cigarette.

“I’ve got a job for you.” Price says instead, and you shake your head.

“I’m done with contracting work.”

“So you live off of government support and the intel you sell on the dark web?” he asks.

“That’s my business.”

“It’s about the Red Room.”

You pause, glancing over at him. He looks sincere, but you can also see the earpiece he’s wearing.

“Laswell on the comms?” you asked. You still remember the woman, distrusting as fuck from the moment she met you.

“Yeah. She’s helping with coordinating the team.”

You snort with disdain. “I don’t work in teams. We aren’t trained to.”

“You’ll like them.” Price promises.

“I doubt it. I don’t like you very much.”

Price gives you a dry laugh, and you know he doesn’t take it as personally as you want him to.

“I know that this is personal to you. You got out at eighteen – that’s later than most. You know what they do.”

“Ask any other defector. Sarina, or Antonya. I’m not interested.” You tell him firmly.

“We’re not taking many prisoners from the Red Room.” Price begins again, and you’re about to cut him off. “You can kill the head. Get the girls safe, and you can do with Dreykov whatever you want.”

The offer is too tempting to turn down. To be able to kill the man that ruined your life? The man that ruined the lives of all those other girls?

“I’m in.” you say, and Price gives you a grim smile in return.

“Pack your things. You can meet the team in England.”

Soap

Price had said that he was going to New Zealand for business. He hadn’t realized that ‘business’ entailed a woman.

“That yer girlfriend?” Soap asked, and the woman gave him a look so mean that she almost compared to Ghost.

“I’d hope not.” Price replied. “I’d be dead before morning.”

The woman sat down at the end of the table silently. She looked around, before her hands grabbed a pack of cigarettes from her jacket, lighting it up again.

Ghost was quiet too, but fuck, he knew Ghost. This woman didn’t say a single fucking word, but Soap still knew that Price didn’t have any kind of power over her.

“What’s the mission?” he asked impatiently, and Price set down a stack of Manila folders onto the table.

Laswell pushed off from the wall she’d been leaning against, pulling one of the folders from the stack.

“To most special operatives, the Red Room is a myth. A story made up by the KGB, and nothing more. But the Red Room exists, and we’re going to take it down.”

The woman made a sound for the first time, and it was a disdainful laugh. The others turned to stare at her, but Laswell cleared her throat to redirect their attention back to the right person.

“Over the years, the US and Britain have worked together to take the Red Room down, but it’s evolved from a KGB branch to a human trafficking ring. They take young girls off the streets all over the world and turn them into trained killers, mostly targeting politicians. Taking down the Red Room would mean putting a stop to their ongoing crimes and potentially explain some of the most unclear assassinations of the past seventy years.” Laswell said.

Soap glanced over to the woman, who was watching Laswell with close to no emotion on her face. Stubbing her cigarette on the steel table she leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“And she’ll be a part of that?” Gaz asked, nodding to her.

Price nodded. “Her call sign is Black Widow.”

“Got a name too?” Soap asked, and she told him, quickly. Quietly.

“What do you do in the field?” Gaz asked her. Soap noticed that Ghost was watching her closely, as if he expected her to pull a gun on the team.

“Hand to hand combat, espionage, sexpionage. I can be a sniper if you want me to.” She answered quickly.

“She’s here to show you the way into the Red Room and make the girls there trust you enough to get them out.” Price added.

“What, don’t want to get punched by a kid again?” she said, and Price rolled his eyes. They knew each other, but they didn’t like each other at all.

When the meeting ended, the team began to file out of the room, but Soap stayed behind, hoping to catch her and introduce himself. Ghost shot him a warning look, that Soap chose to ignore.

“Welcome to the team.” He said.

“Thrilled.” She replied dryly.

“I’m John. Everyone here calls me Soap though.”

“I know. I read your file.” She deadpanned. She could have been funny if she hadn’t been constantly mean.

“Ya got access to that?” he asked.

“No.” she replied.

Of course she didn’t.

Ghost

They’d tried to get into a smaller base of the Red Room first, to gather some more intel. None of the team had expected there to be any people, much less a bunch of teen girls armed to the teeth.

It didn’t end well.

Out of the thirty girls there, they’d managed to get seven out alive. The others had either died via cyanide pills or while fighting them.

Black Widow had explained that they were brainwashed, and that was why they’d immediately committed suicide when other options ran out. She didn’t seem to be affected too much by it. At least, she tried to pretend that it was that way.

He’d taken a bullet to the thigh, and it had been her to stitch him up in the safehouse before he could call the medic. She’d been grazed by something, and she took care of that herself as well.

They’d all managed to get some time under the shower, and now, they sat in the living room together. She was in the cargo pants she’d worn on the mission and a black tank top, and Ghost could see the tattoo on her right shoulder blade while her back was to him.

The square hourglass symbol, followed by a number.

1047.

He didn’t have to ask to know that she was the 1047th girl they’d taken. He wondered how many of them had died at his hands, while he didn’t know that he was fighting children.

Price was working on the radio they’d found in the safehouse, but finding an enjoyable station in the middle of Russia was proving to be harder than expected. Eventually, he landed on a classical music station.

She didn’t seem to mind, scraping her can of tortellini clean, until a new song played. Ghost did not recognize it, but he saw her hands curl around the can tightly, knuckles turning white.

“Change the station.” She said. Price looked up. It was the first thing anyone had said in a few hours.

“Why?”

“Just change the fucking station.” She snapped. “Please.”

Price nodded, turning it to something else. A Russian voice chattered into the room. Ghost could see that she was listening, probably understanding every single word.

“What are they saying?” Price asked.

“That there was a fire in the warehouse we were in.” she said.

“Nothing about us?”

She shook her head. “From what they’re saying, they don’t have a clue. The Red Room will know.”

“Why?” Ghost asked.

“They chipped us. They know the last location of the girls, and they know that seven of the chips moved without the rest. I had the medics take them out, but it took them a while to get here. By now, Dreykov will know that something is going on.”

It was the most she’d said in one go so far.

Ghost didn’t trust her, but he didn’t mind her either. Most of the team disliked her, and Price couldn’t seem to stand her. Soap had his mind set on talking to her. But Ghost… he didn’t know who she was, only that she was as quiet as he was.

He knew that Soap wanted to ask about the scars that littered her arms and what they could see of her back, and he knew that she would not answer.

Suddenly, there was a shout of frustration from Gaz.

“What happened?” Price asked, immediately on his feet.

“Heater’s out.”

Glancing outside, Ghost saw that it was snowing heavily. Black Widow got up from her spot in the room. Ghost could hear her shuffle inside one of the cabinets.

She returned with blankets, dumping them in the middle of the room before taking one for herself. Ghost said nothing as she sat down next to him, an arm length of space between them. The snow only got heavier, until it turned into an all-out blizzard.

“We’ll be snowed in tomorrow.” Soap noted.

“Let’s worry about freezing to death first.” Gaz said. He was chattering, despite the blanket around him. Black Widow had gotten herself a second already, and she still looked cold.

“Taking first watch.” Ghost muttered, sitting down by the window.

“I’ll join you.” Soap said. Ghost knew that Soap wanted to chatter about something idle to distract himself from the image of 23 dead fourteen-year-olds.

The others shuffled together for warmth, except for her. She stayed where she was, leaning against the counter of the small kitchen.

“Ya think she’s from the Red Room?” Soap asked under his breath.

“Course she is.” Ghost replied.

“I heard they take the girls when they’re three. Teach ‘em ballet and how to be all pretty while killing a man. Then they send them out when they’re fifteen.”

Ghost nodded, letting Soap know that he was listening.

“Ya think that’s why she wanted ta change the station?”

“Huh?”

“They were playin’ sum ballet song.” Soap said. “Maybe she knows how to dance to it. “

“Doubt she does much dancing.” Ghost replied.

“Sight for sore eyes though. But after what she did today…” Soap mumbled.

Ghost still remembered it. How ruthlessly she’d fought against those girls. Wasn’t she supposed to know that they had no choice?

They had all obviously gone through the same combat training, but she was older and stronger. Those girls knew that. She knew that.

Ghost had watched her snap the neck of one with a twist of her hand. Something like that was so grotesque that even Ghost seldom did it, but with her it looked like the starter to a five-course-meal.

“She ain’t happy.” Soap said.

“No shit.”

“Ya think she’s a good person?”

“I doubt it.” Ghost replied.

“I think she could be. Maybe she’s an ass due to circumstance.”

Ghost snorted. Only Soap would say something like that. When he glanced over to her, he saw beady eyes glancing back in the darkness. He wondered if she’d listened in to their conversation.

She didn’t sleep for most of the time Ghost and Soap were on watch. A few hours in, she picked up her pack of cigarettes and lighter and offered them to take over watch.

Ghost nodded, about to get up and go back to bed, but Soap was hesitant.

“It’s fucking cold sleeping on tha ground.” He said.

“We can sleep close. For warmth.” Ghost replied.

“Nah. I’ll stay on my feet.” Soap said.

Ghost shook his head. What the fuck was going on with Soap?

You

You were back to square one, thanks to some wrong intel. On top of that, they all saw what you did to the other girls. You weren’t sure if their pity was worse or whatever they did now.

All of them except Soap, who still seemed determined to chew off your ear. Currently, he was telling you about his hometown in Scotland.

“You’re from New Zealand, aren’t ya?” he asked finally.

“I just lived there.”

“Then where are you from?” he asked. You shrugged in response. Russia was where you were raised, technically, but you did not know where you were taken from.

Soap smiled at you brightly, completely unguarded. It threw you off. He was a special ops, and yet, he sometimes behaved like anything but.

You didn’t need classes in the Red Room to know that he was attracted to you. Yet, you weren’t sure whether that would help or hinder you.

“Who raised ya? Masked soldiers?” he said, and you were sure he’d meant it as a joke.

“A woman called Madam Ivanova. She was in charge of us.”

“Was? Who killed her?”

“Price.” You replied curtly.

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly. You could see that he was regretting his words.

“Don’t be. She wasn’t a good person.”

“You say that as if she killed your friends.”

“She did.” You replied.

“What?”

“If recruits aren’t good enough, you don’t let them into your ranks.” You shrugged.

“Recruits? Fucking hell, you were girls.”

“Yeah, at the beginning of the program. 1 in 20 makes it through.”

Soap didn’t say anything else that night.

***

You stayed on after taking down Dreykov. By going back into this industry, you’d given up New Zealand, and in your gut, you’d known that when you made that choice.

The team had grown to accept you, and even Price was alright with your company by now. In return, you tried to be less snappy towards them. It worked, most of the time.

The last mission had been a good one. No one innocent had died, you’d gotten the intel, and the bad guys were dead. It was like out of a story, and the group was celebrating.

Price had gotten an empty bar, and Soap was playing bartender, giving out drinks like there was no tomorrow, and chugging his own just as quickly. Ghost was in the corner, mask rolled up to drink whatever Soap handed him.

You could see a bit of blond stubble peek out, along with a small scar. You knew how he’d gotten it. It had been in the Red Room, the actual Red Room, and an eight-year-old girl had slashed at him with a sharpened letter opener.

Ghost hadn’t defended himself. You’d pried the girl off him, taking the weapon from her and making sure she wouldn’t jam it into his neck next.

“Here.” Soap said, handing you a shot of Tequila.

“I’ve had enough.” You replied. “If I drink any more, I’ll get tipsy.”

“That’s the point.” Soap said, firmly putting the shotglass down. “You’re lucky we’re not playing any drinking games.”

You snatched the glass from him, ignoring his smug smile as you downed it, holding out your ahnd for a lime wedge. Soap dropped it into your hand quickly.

You laughed at some stupid joke he said, ignoring the stares on your back from the rest of the team. You couldn’t deny the fact that Soap could make you feel less…

You weren’t sure, but when you were with Soap, your past faded into the background. It wasn’t as important anymore. All the blood and fucking gore of it.

Ghost

He wasn’t sure why, but he hated that she was laughing at Soap’s idiot jokes. Somehow, he had convinced her to get tipsy, and it was a good look on her.

She was pretty when she smiled. Not that she wasn’t without, but it made her look careless. At some point, she walked over to him, another shot glass in hand.

“Soap insists you drink another. He wants to see you tipsy.”

Ghost took the glass from her, ignoring the fact that he enjoyed their hands touching.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Ghost paused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re quiet. You always are, but you’re like… quiet tonight.” She said. He wanted to scoff at her.

“You and Johnny fucking?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why.

“What?” she asked. “Where the fuck is that coming from?”

“Don’t want my team messed up.”

“Oh in that case, you don’t have to worry Lieutenant.” She spat. Her entire body language had shifted in a moment, and it was telling Ghost to fuck off. “I’m going for a smoke.”

Ghost watched her storm out, before glancing over to Soap. He’d stilled his movements, looking after her.

Ghost followed a few seconds after, leaving the bar. She stood outside, clicking on her lighter angrily.

“Don’t fucking say anything stupid.” She told him, throwing the lighter away with a frustrated movement. Suddenly, Ghost surged forward, grabbing her jaw softly. He had to lean down to look at her, even if she wasn’t short.

“Wha-“ she began

“I thought you learned about all of this.” Ghost mumbled, suddenly unsure what to do. Her hands surged forward, pulling the lower half of his mask up.

His hand moved the back of her neck, covering pretty much all of it. He could taste the sourness of limes on her lips. Her lips were so soft Ghost thought he might forget about everything else.

He ghosted over her jaw, and felt the tenseness in it. Carefully, Ghost broke contact.

“Relax.” He told her.

“I am.”

“This isn’t a mission.”

“I just- I haven’t done this just for the sake of it.”

Shit. Ghost felt terrible when she said that.

“Don’t stop now.” She whispered, and Ghost obliged, his lips meeting hers again. Her jaw wasn’t as tense as it had been, and her arms hung loosely around his neck. Slowly, he let one of his hands slide down to her waist, pulling her in closely.

She let down a quiet oof as she hit his vest, letting him guide her towards the wall of the bar. His other hand pillowed her head, making sure that she would not hurt herself.

He hated to admit that kissing her was everything he wanted in that moment.

It was so perfect, the taste of her lips, her small hands on his chest and his own encircling her waist. Their closeness.

And then, the illusion shattered.

She sprang back from him, looking towards the door of the bar.

“Soap?” she asked, voice hoarse.

Soap

He’d only come out of the bar to check on her and Ghost, expecting them to be at each other’s throats. They were, just not the way he’d thought.

“Soap?” she asked, surprise apparent on her face. Ghost’s hand was still on her waist, but she’d backed away from him as soon as she’d heard his steps.

His stomach dropped. He wanted her. Simon fucking knew that. He’d wanted to do that to her since he’d met her, and he’d told Simon. He’d told him about what he thought of her and he did this?

And from the look on her face, she knew how he felt as well.

“Fuck you, Riley.” He spat, turning back around. Ghost stayed where he was, but she followed him.

“Please don’t go.” She said. “It was- I didn’t mean to-“

“What? You looked like you were about to fuck him right there.” Soap replied. He knew his accent was thick due to anger, and he didn’t care. He didn’t expect her to push him like a petulant child though.

Soap barely stumbled, and that only seemed to enrage her more.

“It was a heat of the moment thing!” she finally said. “He got me angry, and it worked, okay?”

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” He finally replied. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“But I like you.” She blurted out. Soap blinked dumbly.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again. It makes me sound so childish.” She said. Behind her, Ghost moved.

“So why’d you make out with him?” Soap asked. She didn’t reply, but for the first time since he’d met her, she blushed. Furiously.

Oh.

He glanced over to Ghost, who towered behind her. He saw it too. Their eyes met, and Soap saw the idea that was coming to his mind mirrored in Ghost’s.

Oh.

They’d never even come close to something like that, but maybe…

Softly, he tipped up her chin, There were the beginnings of tears in her eyes, but her cheeks were still flushed from kissing Ghost and the Tequila she’d had. Her pupils were still dilated.

She was so fucking hot.

He could share with Ghost.

This wasn’t the first kiss Soap had imagined, but imagination be damned, it was still fucking amazing. Soap pulled her closer by the loops in her belt, feeling her body press against him. Her hands grabbed his neck, pulling him closer.

Soap could practically feel Ghost hover behind her, feel the impatience rolling off of him.

“Let’s get outta here, yeah?” Soap offered, and she nodded, grabbing him by the hand. Ghost followed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He leaned in, whispering. “She’s never had sex for the sake of sex.”

Soap nodded. If she knew they were talking about her, she ignored it.

“I wasn’t planning on not focusing on her.” He replied.

Ghost

They found a dingy motel, and Soap barely managed to scrape money out of his wallet before he was already sprinting up the stairs to their hotel. The woman behind the desk gave them a look that told Ghost she knew exactly what they were planning.

Not that he cared much.

He caught up with her, grabbing her by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder. Soap shook his head, unlocking the door to their room as quickly as he could.

Ghost let her down on the bed, crashing lips onto lips. She gave a surprised squeak that turned into a moan as his hand wandered to her tits, greedily squeezing.

Blindly, she pulled Soap onto the bed, causing it to groan from the weight.

“Might break it if we keep going.” Soap said.

“That’s the goal.” She replied, before kissing him. Ghost didn’t know why he didn’t feel jealous but he was glad. Carefully, he set to work on pulling off her jacket, and then, her shirt.

He paused when he saw a massive scar, running from under her left breast until her hipbone. Ghost ran a thumb over it carefully. There was another, low on her stomach. Ghost didn’t want to think of where they’d come from. Kissing up her breasts, she felt her hands tug at his vest.

He shrugged it off, watching as she wrapped her legs around Soap’s waist, flipping him onto his back.

From under her hair, he saw the tattoo. It disappeared again when she leaned forward to suck on Soap’s neck, softly biting his shoulder.

Soap groaned and Ghost suddenly felt his pants grow uncomfortably tight.

He moved to kneel behind her, feeling her grind against the bulge in Soap’s pants. His hand snaked onto her neck, and she turned to kiss him.

“Good?” she asked. Simon and John nodded at the same time. She’s the most naked out of all of them, bra and pants still on, and God, it’s not enough for him. He picked her up, knowing exactly that she knew this was nothing for him, and beginning to open her pants.

Soap sat up, looking almost offended at being left out but then, he leaned back, giving her an appreciative smile.

Simon had almost managed to not feel guilty for making out with her behind the bar despite what Soap had told him.

She’s a pretty lass. I think she’d kill me if I told her.

That was the first thing Soap had told him, and Simon had silently agreed. He’d had no idea that Soap’s simple attraction would turn into a full-blown crush, like that of a lovesick teen. He’d had no idea that he’d follow so closely behind.

It had happened to him after the mess with the Red Room. She’d come out of Dreykov’s office, covered in blood, slick with it, and collapsed at his feet. He’d picked her up and carried her to the medics, but not before he’d caught a glimpse of the office.

Dreykov’s body, scattered across the room, his bodyguards dead with him.

He’d seen her carnal violence, and she’d held his hand afterwards, as they stitched her back together. Three bullets and six stab wounds, and she’d squeezed his hand so hard he was sure it would fall off.

They never spoke of it afterwards, but there was something there then.

There’s a moment of awkward rustling where Soap and Widow pull off their clothes, and Simon stands off to the side, unsure whether he should take his off as well.

Instead, he lowers himself to the end of the bed, pulling her towards him until her cunt is in front of his face. She crosses her legs for a moment, and Simon begins to work on her thighs. It takes her a moment, and then she lets him touch her.

Soap is somewhere above him, making out with her so intensely that Simon can see her chest heave with each breath. He’s so hard in his pants it almost hurts.

But this is about her. For her.

The first moan he coaxes from her is muffled, almost swallowed by Soap’s kiss, but the second comes more loudly. Simon stays where he is, until her legs wrap around his head with a trained strength and he can barely breathe.

He’d die happy between her legs.

Soap

Everything that’s happening turns into an avalanche once her clothes are off. She’s still sweaty from the bar and walking to the motel, but he couldn’t care less. Her tits are in his face – he has no right to.

Ghost is somewhere, doing something, and he can barely concentrate on what he’s doing with the sounds that are coming from her mouth. She’s not fragile – he knows she isn’t. And yet, he feels like he has to hold her like she’ll break apart.

“I want…” she begins, but trails off again, into another moan. Johnny throws a look behind his shoulder and sees her legs wrapped around Ghost’s head, so tightly that he isn’t sure his friend is still alive.

“What do you want?” he demands from her. She could ask anything from him right now. He’d shoot his own brains out if she wanted him to.

“Please, I need you.” She begs, and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind in this shitty motel.

Slowly, she lets Ghost go, and he stands up, pulling his mask over his face again. He’s still wearing his clothes.

Soap lets her get on top. Ghost is somewhere, holding her somehow, but all he can focus on is the feeling of him inside her. It’s never-ending, golden, and Soap knows nothing has felt more right.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, her arms shaking as she tries to steady herself on his shoulders. Ghost had done a number on her, and it looked amazing.

When she began to move, the scar on her stomach stretched, pulling on her skin. Soap wanted to take her away from it all. Him and Ghost, they could protect her. Let her truly retire.

She was younger than both of them, and had worked this kind of stuff long before them. Only Price had more experience.

Suddenly, she leans forward, her lips grazing his ear.

“Ghost feels a little left out.”

“We don’t want that, do we now?” he replies.

“I have something that might work.” She says, and Johnny trusts her. She turns around, offering her cunt to him from behind, facing Ghost. He takes out his cock, stroking leisurely, and Soap wants to gulp with her.

It’s fucking massive. She wants to suck him off when he’s that big?

But then she’s practically begging him to fill her cunt again, and all thoughts of possible or not possible are gone when he’s inside her.

He watches, through a haze, as Ghost feeds her his cock. She gags on it, and Johnny can feel himself twitch inside her. She feels it too.

Ghost is careful with her at first, whispering praises.

Good girl. You’re doing so well.

And then, he kind of forgets all about that, slowly guiding her head. The enormity of him causes her to rock back against Soap, and he wishes he could see her face.

He feels himself growing close, and suddenly he panics – there’s no condoms.

So he pulls out of her, and both Ghost and her halt their movements.

“You on the pill?” Soap asks quickly.

“I can’t have kids.” She replies. He halts at that for a moment, but then, she and Ghost are back at it, and he doesn’t want to miss out.

His hand snakes down to her belly, finding her clit. It causes her to clench around him and it takes Soap all of his willpower not to come then and there.

He doesn’t know where to look. The perfect fucking curve of her back. Her ass. Her face in Ghost’s crotch, taking him as if that wasn’t a fucking challenge.

Soap barely manages to coax an orgasm out of her before he cums. He's so close his brain has turned to mush. She shudders against him, and he has to hold her up, feeling her pretty ass bump against him, always begging for more. He gives as much as he can, making her moan around Ghost’s cock so loudly that the woman behind the desk downstairs has definitely heard.

One last time, he grabs her hips tightly, cumming inside her, before he pulls out and leans back.

He gets to enjoy the view as she continues to suck off Ghost, his cum dribbling out of her cunt. His handprints are on her hips, already beginning to bruise. Ghost doesn’t take much longer before he comes too, holding her head down. Soap hears her choke, and it’s enough to make him hard again.

She collapses onto the bed next to him, sweatier than before and hair in tangles thanks to Ghost.

Soap takes the stringy towel Ghost gets him from the bathroom, wiping down her thighs and offering it to her for her face.

“No need.” She says with a proud smirk.

“God, stop. You’ll be in for another round otherwise.”

Ghost sits on the bed across from them before she waves him over. It’s barely enough space, but she manages to squeeze between them. Soap scratches her back carefully, and she purrs like a cat.

“Was that good for a first?” Soap finally asks.

“Oh no it was totally terrible.” She answers, her voice sarcastic. “It’s not like I came all over your dick.”

“Jesus.” Ghost manages, but Soap sees his massive hand already on her ass.

“Round two?” Soap asks, and she gives him an adoring smile. There’s a moment where he feels himself falling in love with her even more, and maybe even with Ghost, for taking care of his girl.

“Give me a moment.” She says finally. “But yeah, let’s go for a round two.”

[everythingne]

marketing ploy ln4 - ch 6

Austria goes to shit. Great Britain follows.

piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating

warnings/notes: inappropriate comments, lando being overprotective, arguments/cursing, mildly severe car accidents (guys its an f1 fic what we were expecting. gotta do the cliche for my first fic), vague descriptions of injury, a few sexual comments, this is SO LONG. like 5k-6k words?

prev | next

-

01 JULY, AUSTRIA.

I woke up with a bad feeling in my chest and an odd headache. My lone hotel room, to give Oscar and Lily some space since she was finally able to tag along again this season, felt so enclosing. Slowly pulling myself out of bed, I groaned and immediately went to get ready when I noticed the time. Luckily, it was only qualifiers today, so I didn't have much to do other than hide in my office and make sure no one's car was going to explode.

But god, on my worst day, everything has to go wrong.

First, Max's tires never got warmed. Something was broken, and I had to do so much boring bullshit paperwork. Then, Checo's brakes got sticky and we had to have him DNF. Then for some reason, half the fucking sensors hadn't even recorded anything so I couldn't even tell why they had gotten sticky. But I did feel a bit better (not at all) knowing it had also happened to a few other drivers so it wasn’t just us.

So I was having the greatest time, sarcasm fully intended. And then I completely missed seeing Oscar and Lily for lunch because I was in an emergency meeting. And by the time I got out of Red Bull's garage, it was nearing five at night and I hadn't had anything to eat or anything to drink after one water bottle and my headache still had gotten worse because of it.

And then got immediately swamped by reporters.

Luckily, I saved some class and patience and was able to make it through fine but by the time I got to McLaren's garage, I was about ready to snap at someone.

"Ollie!"

Thank god.

"Oscar." I hum as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and then he makes a face as he notices just how exhausted I am.

"You guys had it rough today." He says and I just nod, rubbing at my jaw and rolling my neck as he steps back, leans over, and hands me a packet of some sort of assorted chocolates.

"I love you so much." I sigh as I open the packet and he laughs, dragging me further into the garage where everyone else is settled and just relaxing. McLaren had a really good day, both Lando and Oscar in Q1 and I can see everyone laughing and celebrating. A completely different feel from the tense garage at Red Bull. Lily gives me a tight hug when she sees me and urges me to come sit with her so we can catch up, we end up in a bit further and in a corner so we can have a bit of privacy. All is fine, and Lily is very quickly improving my mood as we giggle and share stories (and I happily answer all her questions about Lando and me) before we're approached by a guy I don't recognize.

"You guys need water?" He asks innocently, and though it's not extremely hot in Austria, I take one from his hands. Lily denies it, showing off the water bottle she's still drinking, and the guy seemingly just blips out.

"Weird." I hum, cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip of the cool liquid, "Never seen him before. Maybe he's new?"

"Or a volunteer?" Lily suggests and I shrug in response, eventually, Oscar comes over and wraps an arm around Lily's waist and she grins, popping a kiss on his cheek. Finally, the two of them were actually looking like a couple in public. Which, is probably what happens when two introverts start dating. I swear they didn't hold hands for months.

"Lando's being interviewed if you wanna wait for him for the media shit." Oscar pokes my hand and I pretend to flick the water bottle at him. The two of us make faces for a few seconds before I nod, taking another sip of my water bottle.

"Yeah, he and I are going out to eat again tonight. Andrea's idea." I sigh, looking over my shoulder where I can see Lando sitting with some people with a microphone in hand. I notice though it's not Sky, but rather ESPN, and I hum before turning back to Oscar and Lily and wishing them on their way. I pull out my phone, answering a few texts before someone walks up beside me. And it's the same guy from earlier.

"Oh. Hi." I say softly as he smiles at me, looking a little flustered for a second before he starts talking.

"Just wanted to say hello, I'm one of the mid-season hires. I'm an engineering assistant, Jordan." He held out his hand and I grinned, shaking his hand firmly.

"Olivia Piastri, Oscar's younger sister. I'm Red Bull's head analyst." I let go of his hand and Jordan nods, he wrings his hands before he continues talking and I feel the confidence he's trying to exhume here.

"Ah, I've seen a bit about you. Kinda hard to miss such a pretty face." Jordan grins, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head with a tiny grin. 

Is he flirting with me? Is this guy daft?

"Well, thank you. But uhm--" I look around the garage, hoping to maybe signal another person in the garage to come over and get me out of this just terribly awkward situation. Lando's wrapping up his interview, handing back his microphone and laughing softly as he shakes hands with the reporters. 

"Seriously, you're by far one of the most gorgeous girls I've seen." Jordan steps a bit closer and leans on the wall beside me with his body covering my view of the majority of the garage, "are you free tonight? I'd like to get to know you better."

I step back, putting myself back into the view of the garage as I try to keep my patience and shake my head no. I'd never had this issue before, how exactly does one stop unwanted advances? I'd never had to, I was never alone when these sorts of things happened to me. 

So, I stammer, "Ah, I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend and.."

"Ay, is he here? Because I don't see anyone staking their claim on you." Jordan grins and I tighten my grip on the water bottle and click my tongue against my teeth. Okay, if he was gonna be like that I could be bitchy too. I glance back across the room one final time, making eye contact with Jon who gives me a sharp nod, but I don't see Lando anymore. Which... could be good or bad.

"He works for McLaren, and is a part of your team, so you might wanna... not... flirt with me?" I turn back to Jordan, make an uncomfortable grimace at him, and end up tightly crossing my arms over my uniform shirt, "So..."

"Yeah, who's your boyfriend then?" Jordan hums, looking over, "Jon?"

"Me," A hand slides across my waist, fingers digging into my skin harsh enough to likely leave bruises as I'm tugged back into Lando's chest. With one hand still firm on my waist, his other hand comes to my jaw so he can turn me to press a soft kiss to my lips before he leans back and whispers, "Hi, baby."

"Hi, Nori." I smile, turning back to Jordan who raises an eyebrow. And I can already tell this is going to be terrible because he hasn't exactly backed down. I see a reporter tilt their camera at us, and I grip Lando's wrist to tell him to back off. But Lando stays close, and my cheeks tint red as Jordan starts to speak.

"Got yourself a good-lookin' girl there, Lando." Jordan grins, winking at me and making my skin crawl. Lando's hands tighten on my waist, pulling me into him a bit more if that's even possible, and now I'm not even mad that he's doing this anymore. I wanted to be doing anything else than being here.

"Mhm. Olivia's my girl, don't you know? She's been my girlfriend for a while, so why dont'cha step back?" Lando smiles, but his threat is not hidden very well. 

"Ay, it's all good Lando, I don't like to share my meals."

"Oh-kay!" I shout but Lando takes over, stepping around me to point at Jordan and get in his face. I see half the McLaren garage turn, and someone shouts to send the media out of the garage as the cameras scramble to try and take photos and videos of the altercation.

"If you know what's good for you--" Lando grits, eyes narrowing as Jordan smirks in his face. His confidence was a far cry from the scrawny guy who had walked up to me prior, Lando continues through his teeth, "You won't say anything like that again or I'll make sure you can't speak anymore."

"Sorry, man. Didn't realize this would piss you off so much," Jordan takes a step back, his smile making it known his apology was fake, and my tight grip on Lando's wrist makes it so he won't follow.

"Bye, Jordan," I say, voice soft but level. A sort of period to the end of whatever conversation Lando and Jordan had silently through their eyes before Jordan backed off and slipped into the crowd of McLaren officers off to the side. I keep my iron grip on Lando's wrist and he slowly turns around to look at me. At this point, my exhaustion and anger from the whole day is bubbling just under my skin. Unlike my twin, I was never good at completely holding myself back when I got like this.

"Lando." My tone comes out much colder than I'm expecting, and I grab his wrist again and forcefully tug him to my side as I hiss, "What the fuck was that?!"

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Yes! But was that worth threatening him?"

"What did you want me to do?" He said and when I peeked over his shoulder and saw everyone watching, I grabbed Lando by the collar and pulled him into Andrea's vacant office, slamming the door shut and pointing at him.

"I had it handled, okay?" I snap, "He was just being a jackass, you didn't have to threaten to make him unable to speak--Lando! Who the fuck says that?!"

"Did you have it handled? That was you having it handled?" Lando asks, incredulously, sitting on the edge of Andrea's desk as I stay at the door, using my heel to keep it closed just in case someone tried to push it open at any point since I knew the door didn't lock.

"You don't need to protect me like that, Lando, it's not your job!"

"It's not, I'm your boyfriend--" And the rest of what Lando says fizzles out in my head. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word that had been taunting me for weeks. Lando Norris, my boyfriend for the media. The boy who could never be mine. And something in my chest breaks, I can feel the tether finally snap, and I shout.

"No, you are not!" My volume surprises me, and I know McLaren can probably hear us immediately after saying it, so I drop my voice down to a hard snapping tone, "You aren't my boyfriend, Lando. You aren't! You can't be, no matter how much I love you, or you love me, or if we fall in love after all of this is over--you are not my boyfriend and you will never be because we can't be in love, Lando!"

"We can't? Who said that?!" He snaps back, "Do you think I've been doing all of this for media? For a fucking paycheck? God, no Ollie. I fell in love with you the first time Oscar brought you around! Do you think I agreed with this for a check? No, I agreed to that stupid contract because it's you! If it was anyone else I would've just walked the fuck out of that office, it's you I want, only you, only you, Olivia."

"But you know you can't have me, so why string me along like this? We can't be together, no matter what we want, we're gonna have to break up at some point! So why should we even try?" 

"Who cares what they say? Zak, Andrea, Christian? You're gonna let them run your life?" Lando steps closer to me, taking my jaw into his gentle hold, voice so soft I feel my heart drum against my lungs, "We do what they say, sure, but once we've completed that contractual obligation... can they tell us we can't ever be this again? Be... us, again?"

"I can't do this Lando," I whisper, bringing my hands to my chest and he steps back. The space between us suddenly felt so vast, and something in me clicked and I knew something irreversible was going to be said. That maybe I had started the downfall here, and Lando's hurt expression tells me I have.

He can only whisper, "Why?"

"I just..." I stammer, making a vague gesture to the room. There's no way for me to express the thousands of thoughts that race through my head, a constant loop of some F1 circuit of emotional mess slamming into every reasonable thought and fizzling out reason.

"Because you're scared of being loved? You're scared of what will happen if you fall in love?" Lando accuses and I can't answer those questions, because I am. I'm so scared. But not because of Lando. Because of media. So I shout the next best option.

"I never wanted the attention! I didn't become a driver because I can't handle the media like you all can! And yet I end up here, and--" I go to keep talking and Lando holds up a hand, shouting over me,

"Okay, then back out! You clearly want nothing to do with me, or this, or everything that's happening, so go tell Christian you're done!"

Silence. I swallow thickly because no. I don't want to be done. I want to fight tooth and nail for everything in this relationship, but also, was this what was best? Should I back out now, before everything we've done catches up to us? A hubris that needs to be checked? I knew from the beginning I was going to burn, but not like this. Never did I think it would be like this. 

"Olivia..." Lando whispers, and I feel something roll down my cheeks. I'm crying I realize. The world is blurry, my throat is dry, and I'm crying over a relationship I can now see we both want but... at least to me, we can never have.

Do I ask Christian..?

"No, Lando." I sigh, doting under my teary eyes, "This is why. This is why. We will end up here one day, and I can't do that. I... I'll talk to you later."

"Ollie, wait!"

I turn, leaving the office in a hurry. I shove through the McLaren workers who try to stop me and once I'm in the clear, I run. The Red Bull paddock isn't far and once I get there I can't breathe, shoving through people who now wear the same uniform as me. My office doesn't even feel safe, the flowers on my desk mocking me, and I grab them and in a fit of rage, I throw them across the room. It doesn't make the pain in my chest leave.

“Olivia!” Someone shouts and I turn, Christian just barely in the doorway. I shout, without thinking, without even pausing.

“I’m backing out! I’m done with that media stunt—!” And a hiccup breaks my sentence, “Get me out of it!”

“I—“

“—Now, Christian!”

The garage is silent after my scream, and poor Christian looks horrified as he nods, and shuts the door to my office. I let a shaky breath out as I realize what I’ve done is irreversible, but there’s so much pain in my whole heart I can’t tell if that’s what’s hurting me. I sink to my knees on the floor, a hand on my chest, a hand on the carpet, and I sob.

I don’t even know why I’m crying.

An arm is around my shoulder, a set of hands resting on my elbows as someone whispers to me. I don't even know who the people are when I look up, and the sight of both Max and Checo kneeling in front of me makes the tears double. At some point, Checo leaves, once I've calmed enough for Max to convince me to lay down with his jacket covering my legs as I hiccupped and slowed down my breathing with Max's hand applying solid pressure to my chest.

Charles and Daniel come back with Checo, who then leaves the room entirely, and I end up with my weird little mixed driver support group on the floor in my office.

Something so odd, something that should not be happening in any way, but yet here we are.

Somehow, one relationship shattering had made the other relationships in my life more clear. Relationships that had started casually and professionally, and ended up with me now having twenty or so brothers at this point. 

Brothers.

Just like Oscar.

-

Max drops me at Oscar's hotel room a few hours later when he returns from his date with Lily. She ends up going off on her own, with a few of the other WAGs, to give Oscar and me privacy. I settle on the couch, sipping a water bottle as Oscar looks out the window. I hadn't told anyone else what Lando and I had argued about, Max had kinda picked up on it as had Charles, but they had given me a berth. A space to explain. When I didn't take the invitation, they didn't try and pull me in to say anything. Which I appreciated beyond words.

"What happened?" Comes the soft voice of my twin. I knew Oscar wouldn't have been like them though. 

“I backed out,” I say, rubbing a hand along the fabric beneath me.

"What?" Oscar turns to face me, "You backed out?"

"Of the shit with Lando, I can't do it anymore. I can't have my emotions being toyed with like this anymore. And we both like each other but one day they're gonna come along and tell us we need to break up and we have to listen to them." I find a stray string in the couch stitching and begin picking it. My nails dig into them, making a slightly bigger hole. It feels like the way I'd ripped a hole into my own heart earlier.

"I had a feeling this was gonna happen." Oscar walks across the room to sit on the arm of the couch, looking over at me, "what happened?"

"I just had a shit day, and... and when this guy at McLaren started flirting excessively with me he got super overprotective and threatened the guy. Which... isn't the worst but he could've handled it better." I wave my hands, "But I had such a shit day I just blew up at him over it, and we fought, and he told me to back out if I couldn't handle it... and when I got back to Red Bull I just did it. I didn't even think and now I think I made a huge fuckin' mistake but I can't go back on it now."

"Could you talk to Christian? Ask him to wait?" Oscar hums, his hand coming up to card through my hair again and I melt into his touch as per usual.

"I dunno." I murmured, closing my eyes, "I just wanna sleep the rest of the day off."

"We can talk about it tomorrow after the race, okay?" He says, looking down at me before turning to look at his phone as it buzzes on the table. I look up at him and see his jaw tense, hand pausing on my head as he makes a face.

"Oh, Christ." He whispers, turning his phone to me. I climb up to sit next to him, eyes widening as I look over the post he shares and my stomach falls to my chest.

"This is not what Christian told me would happen," I whisper, Oscar's hand squeezing my upper arm in some sort of semblance of support. Of course, getting out of this mess with Lando wouldn't be easy.

Now I needed to talk to Christian. As soon as possible.

01 JULY, TWITTER ↴

written by Julia Sine, 01 July, 2024.

Cars aren't the only thing racing down the track in Austria this weekend, so are some hearts! In an exclusive interview after the qualifier today, multiple McLaren and Red Bull workers spoke with reporter Julia Sine about what might become the next 'it couple' after Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift.

"Lando and I first spoke about it in Bahrain. He said the two of them have been close since Oscar's rookie season last year and he was worried Olivia's job would be at stake if their relationship ever leaked to the public," Steve Atkins, McLaren's Head of Communications explained while standing in the paddock with Chief Executive Officer Zak Brown and Team Principal Andrea Stella, "I went and spoke with Christian Horner, the Team Principal of [Oracle Red Bull Racing] and we agreed that since they were on separate teams, and Olivia was an analyst and not an engineer, there was no conflict of interest. Olivia did sign an NDA, just to make sure she wasn't leaking race information to Lando but it was never brought to our attention if Olivia and Lando ended up dating."

"If the two of them are dating, which again I've had nothing clarified to me if they are or aren't, I'd imagine they've been keeping it private due to concerns with the media and fans." 

"Olivia and Lando have a very unique connection, and we here at McLaren are all supportive of relations between teams. All our drivers are friends at the end of the day and we support [Lando and Oscar] being friends with any of the drivers outside of racing. However, I will say we have seen some tensions growing between our drivers and Red Bull." Andrea spoke with me and Zak right before leaving for a meeting, Zak agreed with Andrea, and he further stated, "A lot of the tension we've been seeing with Max and Lando on the track stems from this, in my opinion."

When I made my way to Red Bull to ask some more questions about the situation, I was only able to briefly speak with Alice McLoughlin, Red Bull's Head of Communications who said, "The relationships our staff members get into is not any of our business as long as it's not a conflict of interest or damaging to the staff member themselves. I have not been told if there is for certain a relationship, but if there is I wish both of them well but we will be waiting for their announcement before we decide anything.

read more online at popsugar.uk!

--

04 JULY, 2024 - MILTON KEYNES, UK.

My phone ringing breaks the three hour silence I've subjected myself to after my meeting with Christian and Ada. The meeting where I had said me wanting to back out of the contract was emotionally charged and said I no longer wanted to. Luckily, they hadn't started the process of backing me out of the contract yet, so it was pretty easy for me to stay.

Reaching over, I grab my phone and read the contact, pausing before lifting it to my ear, "Lando..?"

"Ollie, hey... uhm, how are you?" He sounds uncertain, almost like he wasn't sure if I was going to pick up. I can't blame him for thinking that, since our last conversation was that big fight.

"Tired." I admit, but don't say it's because I've lost sleep thinking I was going to lose him, "I'm working late again tonight."

"Oh, sorry... do you want me to call you later?" I hear what sounds like a gear shifting, and I briefly wonder if he's on his sim.

"No, I'm just uploading files. And your voice is honestly more welcome than the silence of a nearly empty Red Bull garage... why'd you call?" I turn to look out the windows at the slowly setting sun, watching as the world is beginning to be coated gold.

"I wanted to apologize for the whole thing with Jordan, I shouldn't have threatened him like that." Lando's words come out rushed and squishy, like he's holding out his heart and expecting me to step on it.

I like to imagine gently covering his heart, protecting it, as I speak softly, "No, no you're fine. I was having a shitty day and I took it out on you. I really should be the one apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong. You were protecting me. Thank you for that."

"Yeah, it's fine. I'd do it a thousand times." He says, then theres a long pause. It's not akward, if anything it allows me to feel the emotions roll through me-- embarrassment at my past behavior, nervousness for his call, and a sick sort of love building in my gut that I, for once, did not push away.

Finally, Lando whispers, "did you back out?"

"I was going to, but... I talked to Christian this morning when I was a bit more level headed and we agreed I'm gonna stay." I say, and I hear him sigh with relief. A small smile bubbles across my lips, letting the giddy feeling fill my body as I tap my toes along the floor and spin my chair.

"Can you come outside?" Lando's question catches me off guard.

"What?"

"Look out your window." He says, and I scramble up from my desk and walk to the big glass panes that cover my office, looking down into the mostly vacant parking lot and there he is.

"You are something else." I whisper, then look back at my computer. I could finish the work tomorrow, "I'll be down in ten."

I scramble to save my work, kicking off my work shoes for the actual nice YSL heels I'd worn in. Once they're secure on my feet, I touch up my makeup and spritz myself with perfume. The whole time I'm giggling to myself, smiling as I pack up my desk and then throw my belongings into my purse and find myself half running to the elevator. I hurry to text Oscar that I'll be back a bit later than expected as the floors ping, and when I hit the ground floor, I throw my phone in my bag without a care, clock out and scan out, and open the door to the cool night breeze rippling across my blushing, hot skin.

God, it was so good to let myself feel this raw emotions again.

Lando pushes himself off his car, hands still in his pockets, and I bee line to him. Luckily, he kinda gets the hint of what I'm asking, and his hands come to rest on my waist when I reach him.

I pause to put my purse on the hood of his car, and then grab his collar and pull his lips to mine.

He laughs into the kiss, our teeth briefly smashing before I right us and press in deep. His arms wrap around my waist and he tugs me closer, one hand sliding up the side of the dress shirt I wear before tangling its fingers in the hair at the base of my neck. When we pull back, briefly, I giggle as he peppers kisses to my hairline before pulling me back in.

"Fuck, I missed you." He whispers against my lips and I step back, just enough to see him--and he looks exhausted. My hands come to his face and he melts into my touch, almost like he's craving it.

"I missed you too." I murmur back, watching the way he holds his eyes shut. I can see the layers of stress physically peeling away from him and being swept away by the hand I raise to run through his curls and the other hand I slide down to apply that comforting firm pressure to the chest--right under his collarbones, and then his head falls to the crook of my neck. One innocent little peck placed on my collarbone that has me shiver.

We stand like that for a while. Two silent beings in the windy, cold, English night, and eventually I convince Lando to sit in his car when my thinly covered legs start to get cold. We end up just... driving. A silence enveloping us as I rest my head on his shoulder and he keeps that damn hand on my thigh. It's gonna be the death of me. He is going to be the death of me.

But, loving Lando Norris is a death I would welcome with open arms.

04 JULY -- INSTAGRAM ↴

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 145k others...

oliviapiastri: my pretty boy <3

landonorris: this mystery guy needs a haircut hes stealing my look >:(

⤷ oliviapiastri: you'll get over it

maxverstappen: i want u to know kelly shouted 'THANK GOD' when i showed her this post

oscarpiastri: OH SO THIS IS WHY YOU MISSED OUR FUCKING MOVIE NIGHT??

⤷ oscarpiastri: ANSWER ME HELLO?

⤷ oliviapiastri: BRO HOLD ON I AM DOING SOMEONE

⤷ opheliapiastri: OLIVIA????

⤷ oscarpiastri: HOLD THEFUCKON??? OLIVIA LOUISE RAY PIASTRI.

⤷ oaklynnpiastri: moment of silence for our mystery guy. oscar is approaching his location at rapid speeds.

⤷ landonorris: rip

⤷ oscarpiastri: shut.

⤷ oliviapiastri: @ oscarpiastri I MEANT SOMETYHIN. I MEANT TOT TYPE SOMETHING. DO NOT SHOW UP TO HIS HOUSE.

christianhorner: geri said 'good that little fucker didn't break her heart' and slammed the steak knife back into the knife holder.

⤷ oliviapiastri: OH MY GOD?? THANK U MOM?? @ gerihalliwell

⤷ gerihalliwell: of course :)! girls stick together!

09 JULY -- GREAT BRITAIN.

"Max, make sure you're giving space here. These turns can get tricky." I hear someone say in the radios, my hands fidgeting with my keychains as I watch the race on the screens, and then glance over to the sensors. All was running well, back tires a bit hot, but nothing we were concerned about.

"Ollie, tell your brothers best friend to get out of the way." Max frustratedly huffs and I laugh, leaning forward to speak into the comms.

"Logan is in P9, actually, not P1." I chime, luckily getting a soft chuckle from Max. We'd been doing exceptionally well this season as per usual, even if I had sort of stopped paying attention a bit. I did note the tensions between him and Lando were really high during this race. The two had been neck and neck since the beginning, and everytime they got a one-up on the other it just made them push harder. They had a pretty good gap between them and the rest of the racers, with Oscar holding his own in P3. It seemed like another weekend with those three on top, but at least watching this race was interesting.

The breaking sensors start flashing, indicating they're running too hot, so I chime, "Max, ease up on breaking. We might want to look into getting your tires swapped for mediums soon."

Max doesn't respond, but he does ease up on the breaking. Which makes me feel a bit better.

"Lando's coming in hot to the pit." Someone says, and I glance up over the computers and my eyebrows knit. He's driving weird. Like... almost as if he doesn't have control of steering. I see the safety car prepare for a possible departure and I stand, looking down at Max's sensors, and then someone shouting brings my attention back up.

"He can't stop!"

There was a moment where it felt like everything froze. My hands couldn’t find my mouth fast enough to hide my shock. Lando’s car slams probably two hundred kilometers into the barrier that leads into the pit lane and skids along the wall all the way inside the lane until it spins and slams into another one of the barriers. Red Bulls paddock is first in the pit this round, and I can see the smoke beginning to billow around Lando's car immediately once the car fully stops. People are shouting, McLaren engineers sort of straggling by the exit to the track as a yellow is waved, waiting for a command. I see Jon amongst them, shouting into his headset, and I hate the silence lets me hear his voice strain as he hollers,

"Lando! Lando, are you alright?"

I can't hear a response from the McLaren driver even if I strain my ears.

“Lando—come on.” I find myself saying, hearing Max and Checo on the radio asking for clarification of what happened, but also hearing someone say it was clear for people to go and get Lando out of a burning car. My headphones are yanked off my head and Christian’s hand firmly pushes me forward.

“Go.” Is all he has to say.

I’m running faster than I can carry myself, stumbling over numb legs as I sprint to the car. My hands scrape the concrete as I nearly fall, but I save myself the embarrassment of wiping out with a quick stumble and keep running. I can hear more people behind me as I climb up, holding onto the halo to stabilize myself.

“Lando!” I shout as I grab Lando’s helmet and slowly slide his head back as I start to detach him from his seat belts. Jon is there immediately, helping my shaky hands undo the devices. I keep looking at Lando's visor, trying to catch his eyes, but there’s no time to waste as I smell and hear the various engineers who'd run out trying to extinguish the car. I get one side of the belt off, starting to detach the hands device from the helmet by Jon's command when two hands grab my wrist.

Snapping my gaze up, I meet Lando’s eyes from where I’m sitting, one leg wrapped around the halo so I don’t fall, one hand on his neck as I hold the clasp to the hands device, the other on the back of the car as his eyes meet mine.

I’ve never seen Lando look so…terrified. His bright eyes are staring me down, pupils small and shaking as his grip tightens on me. I know my own eyes can’t look much different.

“Ollie?” He whispers and I shush him, detaching him from the car fully as I grab him by the shoulders.

“I got you, Nori. Jon and I got you.” I say softly, looking up to where other drivers are stopped on the track—standing up in their cars to get a better view, “get up so everyone knows you’re okay.”

Lando’s hands grab my shoulders, my hands sliding to his ribs as I slowly help him to his feet with Jon on standby. Medical and McLaren officials swarm around us, hands out and ready to help as I slowly unlatch my leg and slide off the side of the car. Lando’s weight on me is nearly crushing, but once we get him out he collapses even further into my arms in a cry of agony. Two hands find my back, medics reaching to grab Lando and I almost fight them in retaliation.

“Ollie!” someone shouts and I turn to see Jon running along to the medics side. I feel stuck, trying to swallow something that makes my eyes burn. Lando’s still got a vice grip on my wrist and when the medics try to separate us—it only tightens.

“Mr. Norris—“ The woman tries.

“Lando.” I finally find the courage to move forward, they’ve got him on a gurney now, trying to lay him back but he keeps fighting them. I can’t begin to understand why, “you’re okay. Let them take care of you.”

They tilt his visor up, and I gently lay him back, Jon reciting medical information over my head as they begin to assess his damage, still pulling us further away from the car which I note is now long extinguished. They stop us at McLaren's paddocks, Jon dipping inside to grab Lando's things as we wait for an ambulance to meet us here.

“Olivia.” I hear Lando’s muffled voice and I feel tears fill my eyes as I lean down, pressing my forehead to where his visor now lays and let out a shuttering sigh that makes my body ache just as much as my heart.

“You’ll be okay, Lando. But you have to let them help you.” I speak in a strained voice, feeling one of his hands come to wrap around my waist. I find his other hand and squeeze it, before that hand comes to rest under his helmet, “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“I don’t wanna go without you.” he whispers, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces at his soft plea for me to stay. But I know its useless.

"I'm so sorry, baby." The words feel forced out of my mouth with how much effort it takes it whisper them, "You gotta go. And I have to stay."

"Ollie, please..." He whispers, and I press a kiss to the spot on his helmet where his lips would be, then take his gloved hand on my waist and lift it to my lips and kiss his hidden knuckles. The barrier feels unfair, but I'm doing what I can.

"As soon as I can be, I will be by your side." I say as Jon reappears, the ambulance coming up screaming besides us.

"You promise?" Lando says under the sirens and the shouting and I nod.

"I swear on my life."

That's what ends up being enough, because Lando finally lets go of me after one more final kiss to the 'mouth' of his helmet. The medics and EMTs swarm us, carefully moving Lando who groans and gasps in pain. I can't imagine what injuries he might have as they slowly and carefully load him into the back of the ambulance. Jon speaks with Lando all the while, and right before the doors slam he turns to me and shouts,

"I've got him, Olivia!"

And all I can do is nod, blinking back tears as the doors shut. The second they're pulling away I find myself crying, full body shaking that wrecks me, and I manage to be pulled into the sanctuary of the Red Bull garage by Kylie and a few other employees before it can really be taken advantage of for media points.

But I know I'll keep on my promise. Especially when Christian tells me to just do one thing.

"Go."

taglist (thank you!)

@harrysdimple05 @charli123456789 @fangirl125reader @dark-night-sky-99 @starmanv @ophcelia @buendiabebeta

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Hi! This is a fic rec of my favorite fics involving sports. These fics are organized by word count from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry / @isthatyoularry (136k)

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante  (112k)

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Oh Glory by alivingfire / @alivingfire (77k)

Tomlinson looks Liam over, tilting his head. “Are you a swimmer as well?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, a little cautiously. Harry wonders if it’s Tomlinson’s fame or the unimpressed eyebrow that’s making Liam wary. “Distance, I’m doing the 1500m. Harry here’s a sprinter.”

“Ah,” says Tomlinson, turning his glinting eyes back to Harry. “So you’re not an endurance man.” A beat passes, and his grin grows, wide and filthy. "Shame."

Harry Styles is Team Great Britain's newest swimmer, and has spent his whole life training for this moment, a chance at the gold medal in the Rio 2016 Olympics. All his training, hard work, and dedication to no distractions is tested when he's assigned to the same Rio apartment as Louis Tomlinson, British gymnast and Harry's childhood crush.

Summer's In the Air and Baby, Heaven's In Your Eyes by starryhaze / @starryhaze28 (71k)

“So we probably shouldn’t do this.” Louis says, and Harry knows he means staying like this, wrapped up in each other, and he nods, then lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder. His eyes are focused on the ground while he tries to will the tears away.

“We shouldn’t. I’m sorry Lou it’s just-“

“Hey it’s fine, baby.” Louis promises, gently rubbing this thumb over Harry’s cheek. Harry leans into the touch and blinks up at Louis.

“Not your fault.” Louis says, looking around before he presses his lips against Harry’s in a short but sweet kiss. “You’re like my dirty little secret now.” He grins wickedly and gives a wink, making Harry blush and bite his lip as he steps away.

⋆ .ೃ ࿔ *: ･

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

On the Edge by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche (47k)

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

The Boys of Summer by afirethatcannotdie / @afirethatcannotdie (45k)

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

Bloodsport by tofiveohfive / @tofiveohfive (40k)

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

Be My Little Good Luck Charm by 100percentsassy (34k)

In which Harry is a promising amateur golfer making his debut at the PGA Championship, and Louis is a Sky Sports anchor who would really rather be commentating on footie.

The other boys are around too: caddy!Niall provides victory pints, Liam is Louis’s Very Serious co-anchor, and poor Zayn just gets his face drawn on.

But Me, I'm Not a Gamble by orphan_account (33k)

A Posh & Becks AU in which Harry is a star on the stage and Louis is a star on the pitch, but they're both inexplicably terrible at articulating their feelings. In the end, it only takes a season's worth of failed matchmaking schemes, platonic dinner dates, road trip holidays, and one very convenient David Beckham cameo for them to figure it all out. And if Niall knew all along? Well, he at least has the decency not to be too smug about it.

Swallow My Words by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (32k)

Senior year is stressful. On top of balancing school work, family, and friends, Harry's lacrosse team is vying to win the state championship, he's not sure where he's going to college yet, and he has a secret boyfriend that no one can know about.

Part 1 of Swallow My Words

Player by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom (28k)

Louis’ job should be simple. Harry Styles, one of the top ranking tennis players in the world, is every publicist’s perfect client. He’s charismatic, enigmatic, and fit as fuck. The darling of the media, a national treasure, and a sponsor’s wet dream. He’s also a goofball with the kindest heart, sweet, and polite, and singularly focused on achieving his goals.

There are just two minor problems. Firstly, Louis’ debilitating crush on said client. And secondly, Harry has just accidentally Instagrammed a picture of his dick to his 18 million followers. So no, Louis’ job is anything but simple.

OR the one where Louis is Harry’s highly strung publicist and has a thing for his client, Harry is an international sports star and has a thing for his publicist, Liam and Zayn have a thing for each other, and Niall wishes everyone would just get their shit together.

You and Me Were Kings by orphan_account (28k)

harry plays football in a small town in west texas. louis might be the only person that doesn’t give a damn. au.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope (17k)

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

We've Got Nothing to Lose by iwontseecadyagain (12k)

“Oops!” A deep and slow voice fills Louis’ ears as an arm reaches around his waist, to keep Louis from rebounding into another white-outfitted body – this time a short young girl who could only be gymnast.  “Hi,” Louis replies as he turns to smile up at the person and thank him for preventing Louis’ life from dissolving into a real-life game of Pong, but the words dry up in his throat when he sees.

The person is a boy, tall and lanky with curly brown hair pushed away from his face messily and held back by a gaudy Union Jack scarf, green eyes sparkling from all the camera flashes and impossibly pink lips curled in a wide smile that nearly encompasses his whole face.

And Louis recognizes him instantly. And he thinks that maybe if walking into the Olympic Stadium during the opening ceremony wasn’t enough, having Harry Styles’ arm around him might be the killing blow.   Also known as an Olympics AU where Harry is a pro tennis player, and Louis is a pro footballer. They meet at the opening ceremony and fall in love, obviously.

We Should Get Jerseys by orphan_account (12k)

There’s a lot surrounding Harry, and Louis knows, in his heart of hearts, that there always will be. He just doesn’t know if he’ll manage to equate into the ‘always’ of it.

Harry is a hockey player, and Louis is his slightly melodramatic boyfriend.

And Darling I Will Be Loving You 'til We're 70 by orphan_account (11k)

“Well, you deal with the football team, and we’ll handle everything else,” Teddy answers. He sits up confidently and crosses his arms – Harry always tells them that believing in yourself is 90% of the job – with his head held high. Louis sees a flicker of determination in his eyes, mixed with a bit of mischief and youthful exuberance. It reminds him of himself, when he was younger and even now, 32 years old and married with four children. He’s really fucking grateful for the life that he lives and the kids that he has. (And his husband is pretty alright, or whatever.)

A canon spin on Posh/Becks where Louis coaches their daughter's football team for the very first time and Harry comes back from a summer working for Saint Laurent.

Part 1 of posh/becks au

[freddie-77-ao3]

Percy Jackson-esque Chapter Titles for a fic i'm writing:

We have friends in holy places (and unholy- Hello Lady Hera!)

What’s Up, Random Person, We’re Kidnapping and Adopting You

Yeah, The Beach Is Nice- Thank You For Not Drowning Us

Hazel Was Dead and Still Knows More Than You

Thank Fuck For The Egyptian- How the Hell Did We End Up In Great Britain

Annabeth Is Obsessed and Bianca Is Possessed- There Goes Christmas

Question Of Our Lives and Today Especially: What The Hell Is Going On?!

Now Would Be A Good Time To Be Anyone Else

Call The Police Because We May Have Just Murdered A Mortal

Ask And You Shall Receive… Sometime In The Next Twenty Years Probably

A Guinea Pig, A Dandelion, A Pine Tree, An Olive Tree and Two Embarrassed Girls Walk Into A Bar  

Satan Or Santa? Neither Should Exist And Yet Somehow They’re Both Knocking On Our Tent Door

A Slight Reprieve From The Last Chapter: Connor Comes For You With The Question ‘Do Tents Have Doors?’

And We’re Back, Why Did You Guys Think Our R&R Would Last Long?

Sugar, Spice, Almost Dying Twice (Today)

Would You Put ‘Cheating Death Almost Daily’ Under Experience Or Special Skills?

An Inspirational Trip Through Hell- Persephone Makes Good Brownies

Those Commercials Where People Screw Up The Most Basic Of Tasks In The Most Idiotic Fashion Ever Describes The Current Situation

As The Prophecy Foretold (We Made It Up, But It Came True)

Living Normally? In This Economy?

And Then The Wolves Came… Sike (Thank Fuck)

The Snails Paced Chocolate Bunny Gives Mixed Messages But Good Cereal

What The Hades Is Going On, Someone Explain

Apparently Exploding A Volcano Makes Us 'Irresponsible’

Why Are Cats So Vengeful 

Oh Look! An Unhelpful Old Person!

The Adults Are More Annoying Than Leo Valdez and Nico Di Angelo Put Together

They Scream For Ice Cream, I Scream For Sanity

McDonald’s And Raising The Dead- Tuesday Never Looked So Good

Unfortunately, I’m Still Not Dead Or A Dolphin (Not For Lack Of Effort)

Eggs Apparently Don’t Like Being Lost At Sea

I’m Packing Up My Crayons And Leaving

Viva La Pluto, Fuck You Guys

A Guide To Giving Up

Hopefully We Can Do This Without Dying This Time

Lady Dirt Face Fucks Us Over- Apparently Today CAN Get Worse

Apparently The Horse Is A God, And Honestly, Fuck The World- But Not You Potty Sludge

If Love Is In The Air Then We’re Wearing Gas Masks- How We Almost Started A War On Accident

If Love Is An Open Door We Should Close It- Aphrodite And Cupid Both Suck

Vegan Ice Cream Sandwiches For One

I Call Shotgun (Said The Invisible Girl  and The Literal Ghost)

I Fucked My Way Into This Mess, I’ll Fuck My Way Out Of It

Things Go Horribly Wrong (Or Horribly Right? It’s Hard To Tell At This Point)

The Fine Art Of Bullshit

We Are Being Hunted And Killed (Why Is This Normal And How Can We Stop It?)

Previously On ‘The Chaos Chronicles”

Cool, Cool, Cool, Cool. Actually It’s Not- Who Lit Katie’s Hair On Fire?!

I’d Like To Say This Is Shocking, But That Would Just Be A Lie

One Hundred And One Monsters, And Twenty Times A Therapist Was Needed

I Am Honestly Surprised That We Are Still Alive, And Apparently So Are The Gods

You Will Never Be A God

Blackmail Only Works If I Care

An Offer I Can Definitely Refuse

Hush Little Baby, Don’t You Cry, You’ll Give Away Our Location, And Then We’ll Die

Only Come Back With Back Up Or A Burger- Maybe Donuts

Doomsday Or Not, Let Me Go Back To Bed, I Haven’t Slept In A Week And I Don’t Care

Practise Doesn’t Make Perfect, Practise Makes A Forest Fire And A Flood

Sea Foam Speaks and A New Person Shatters My Dreams

The Labyrinth Apparently Doesn’t Murder The Already Dead, So Can We Just Die Already?

For A Moment I Forgot Gravity, And As It Seems So Did The Sky, Which Is Good Because I’d Hate To Die Before Breakfast

And God Told Us To Run A Marathon- What Happened To Normal Executions?

At Some Point The Universe Just Needs To Kill Us

There Is Not Enough Faith For This, 

No Words Can Explain Dan, The God Of Moths and Accidental Demon Summoning 

 The Endless and Mysterious Ocean Becomes A Bit Less So, And I Should Have Paid For Diving Lessons

If Best Plus Bitter Equal Better, Then I Am Way Better Than Everyone

Firecrackers And Actual Crackers- Where Is The Cheese

He Likes Art. Terrible Art, But Still Art So I Suppose I’ll Forgive The Sword Through My Head

Hazel Drives Worse Than Thalia Which Says A Lot Because Thalia Crashed Into A Lake- Oh Wait

What Do You Do When The World Almost Ends- And No Nico, The Answer Isn’t Go To McDonalds

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen (Just Like Me)

Can I Rewrite My Life Story, Because If So I’m Starting With This

I Wasn’t Prepared For Parenthood When I Stopped A Kidnapping, I’m Seven

Patting My Own Back, No One Appreciates Me, Fuck This And Really The Rest Of My Life

Apparently Dying Is Not An Excuse For Being Late, So Fuck You Too 

Buying Happy Meals For The Dead Isn’t An Excuse For Being Late

Caped God? I Was Hoping You Had Said Cape Cod

Incoherent Screaming Is Our Theme Song, And I Feel A New Episode On

Who Told Apollo He Could Give Us Presents, Because MCR Is Not A Proper Wake Up Call

It’s Jesus Who Ruined Our Lives This Time, Folks

Don’t Awaken The Ancient One, She Has Anxiety

I Did Not Know That Could Kill Someone, But You Learn Something New Every Day

The Gods Themselves Want Me Dead, You’re Not Special, Todd

Doritos And Death, A How To On Properly Waking And Raising The Dead Featuring A Trip To Alaska

What Was I Thinking? I’m Pretty Certain I Wasn’t

News To No One: The Previously Dead Can’t Drive

I Really Hate Saving The World Actually

How Many Times Is That Threat Going To Work Considering It’s Not Serious? A Surprising Number

Everyone Asks Who We Are, Not How We Are, And Honestly I’m Pretty Hungry

The Gods Hate Me And I Don’t Know Why (I Do Know Why, But I Don’t Care, And Honestly They Shouldn’t Either)

 Which Circle Of Hell Are We In Now, Because I Was Not Planning On A Field Trip To Tartarus

We Master The Elements (Some Of Them- We Also Torch And Flood New England)

In Which We Almost Die Again And No One Bats An Eye

 Our Lives Would Be Incredibly Saddening If We Could Sit Down And Look At Them, But Leo Burned Our Chairs 

The Houseplants Try To Eat Us, And Katie Gets Mad

We Babysit For A God, And Then Adopt His Kids- Surprisingly He’s Fine With This

Dreams Do Come True And That Is Absolutely Not A Good Thing

There Goes My Best Bargaining Chip (Oh And Also His Head)

A Series Of Horrible Decisions- Who Decided I Was The Leader

Hylla, Please Don’t Leave Us- Oh, You Can Give Us A Box Of Cereal? Nevermind 

Sunshine And Rainbows Are Meant To Mean Happiness Not War- Iris and Apollo Destroy Things

Please Don’t Hit Me With Another Brick

We Were Happy And Then There Was A Giant Pigeon

Oh My Holy Fucking Shit That Was Not The Right Lever

In Which Swimming With Sharks Almost Leads To Death And Yet Saves Our Lives

There Is No Highway To Hell As It Turns Out, Only Backroads, And Now Nico And Thalia Are Disappointed

And Then The Sky Almost Crushed Us Because It Fell And Honestly I’m Never Trusting You Again

There Goes Normal Society, Say Bye-Bye, Miranda 

Are We Supposed To Live Through This?

The Dick Who Hands Out Toothbrushes Also Assigns Us A Death Quest And This Is Why We Don’t Celebrate Holidays

Sorry For Cursing You Out, Please Fix My Life

The Plan Checks Out- We Can Do This! (Spoiler Alert- We Can’t)

Three Hundred And Sixty Five Times We Can Say Fuck In A Hour

Please Let Me Pass Out On Your Lawn

Apparently Yelling Fuck At The Sky Is Considered ‘Disrespectful’ And I Haven’t A Fucking Clue Why

Yes Sir, That Is A Lot Of Blood, And No Sir, She Doesn’t Need That Leg

That One Time We Accidentally End Up In The Slaughter Sea, And How That Manages To End Up With A New Leader Of The Amazon Empire And Thalia Gets A Girlfriend

Yes, I’m Aware I Look Gay, Thank You Very Much, I’m Here To Be Queer

This Person Is Nico di Angelo With Less Shits To Give, And Honestly That Scares Me

A Good Idea With Bad Results And A Bad Idea With Surprising Results- The Ending Will Astound You

Never Thought I’d Literally Be Shut In The Closet Again, But Life’s Full Of Surprises

One Million Pounds Of Oranges And Sadness, Sixty Thousand Pounds Of Mangos, And A Truck Full Of Happiness- Monsters Not Welcome

Who Packed The Blueberry Muffins?

Nevertheless She Persisted, And Yet Just Like That, She Gave Up

What The Hell Is This, What The Hell Is That, Why The Hell Am I Here, What The Hell, *Moonwalks Into Hell*: A Brief Summary Of Life

All Is Fair In Being The First One In The Shower

We Accidentally Summon An Army Of Lost Souls

All Our Nightmares Come True And We Prove We’re Idiots

Life Gave ‘Lia Lemons. She Squeezed Them In My Eyes. Please No More Lemons.

Trying To Play Nice To The Gods Never Ends Well. In Other Words, Percy Is An Olive Tree

What’s Happening? I’m Digging My Own Grave, That’s What

Finger Guns, Peace Signs, and Middle Fingers To Nowhere- Home At Last

In Jason’s Defense, He Tried, But The Dragon Was More Interesting

Keeping A Family Alive Can Be Difficult, Especially With No Education and More Monsters A Day Than Cash (Twenty Dollars)

Thalia Tries To Sing Over Annabeth And Percy Arguing And All That Happens Is A Noise Complaint

At This Point, Murder Is Less Of A Passing Thought And More Of An ‘It’s Only A Matter Of Time’

Cousin Bonding Time Doesn’t Usually Include The Gods, But There Are Burgers So…

According To The Crazy Titan Lord Kronos, Asking If A Newborn Looks Like A Rock Is A Question That Will Result In The Death Of The Asker

Oh Joy, I’m Facing Scrutiny Over My Love Life From Immortal Preteens

Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When Your Parents Run The Universe Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When There’s A Vote To Kill Us (Leo stop using Jazz hands!)

We Have The Worst Family Reunion Ever 3.0

Barbed Wire Instead Of String, The Fates Hate Me More Than You Might Think

Zombies, Zombies Everywhere, Wave Your Hands Up In The Air

The World Is A Different Place When You Know What The World Is (Spoiler Alert: It’s Your Murderous Great Grandma)

The Refrigerator Seems Empty, Much Like My Soul

Ah, The Smell Of Success, It Smells Like Bullshit

My Heart Is Broken (Like Those Crackers That Bianca’s Eating)

Utter Chaos: Now Featuring Camp Half Blood And Literal Blood

Family Drama Destroys My Life

Family Drama 2.0: Family Drama Destroys California

So Then A God Says We ‘Will Save Humanity’, And Thalia Says ‘What The Fuck’

Two Middle Aged Women Start Screaming In Walmart

The Main Braincell Holder Is Asleep, God Doesn’t Exist, And Starting Forest Fires Is A Normal Way To Deal With Stress

Hell Is Just Life On Steroids

Queerly Beloved, We Are Gathered Here Togay… A.K.A. A Bet Ruins Rachel Elizabeth Dare’s Life

Normal People Would Avoid This, But The Two Most Normal People Here Used To Be Dead Or Will Die When A Stick Lights On Fire, So We Can’t Have High Hopes

We Try (And Fail, But Hey, It’s The Thought That Counts, Right?)

So THAT’S Where The Greek Fire Went. Sorry, Bus Driver.

Percy Has His Gay Awakening In The Form Of His Grandfather (Technically. He’s Also Technically His First Cousin Once Removed Or Something- Annabeth’s cousin maybe?)

You're Annoying Me To Death With Your Monologue So I Have To Kill You Now

What Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong Doesn’t Mean You Should Set My Bed On Fire

Thalia Does Shock Therapy Meaning She Electrocutes People When They Say Things 

We Should Know By Now That Yelling Doesn't Solve Things But We Don’t, And The Gods Don’t Either

Most Of My Life Is Incredibly Traumatizing, But This Is New 

Who The Fuck Invited The Norse?!

Okay, I Thought The Norse Were Enough, Why Are The Magicians Here?

Wow. Popcorn. The Roman’s Worst Nightmare. 

So First The World Almost Ends, And Then The World Ends But It Gets Better, And Now It’s Ending Again?

Prophecies Can Fuck Off, And So Can Apollo

“Treacherous Nephew In The Tuxedo” Should Sound Funny, But It Doesn’t, And That Makes Leo Sad

 Why Is A Titan Making Dad Jokes? 

Falling Into A Dumpster Was The Highlight Of My Day, What Is Life

Grieving For The Living Is Just As Hard As Grieving For The Dead

Please Forget That I Tried To Kill You

In My Defence, An Invisible Higher Power Who Has The Ability To Strike Me Down Made Me Do It

Let Out A Boo For The Boom Man

Twenty McDonald’s Happy Meals And A Gun- Godly Gifts Are Awesome

We Enter The Maze Of Doom (This Time With Fabulous Prizes)

Two Brothers Are Not Happy As A Sister Cheers On Two More Brothers As They Duel To The Death- (Triton & Tyson & Kymopoleia & Percy & Anteus Have Sibling Bonding Time) 

The Eight Year Old With A Gun Manages To Save And Then Destroy A Life

Hello, I’m Queer, And Full Of Fear. Please Kill Me Now

Children Try To Make Plans (It Doesn’t Go So Well)

Thalia Grace Once Again Proves That Being A Demigod Really Fucking Sucks

It Don’t “Do Be Like That Sometimes” Leo, We Are In HELL

[meraki-yao]

This is random as fuck but I'm thinking about Henry's royal surname

So I happen to be a bit of nerd when it comes to British royalty, I literally don't have a reason for that except it's interesting to me

I actually really appreciated changing movie Henry's surname, until I found out they're real royal houses and started wondering about RWRB's history

In the book it was Mountchristen-Windsor, obviously modelled after irl royal family Mountbatten-Windsor, although Mountbatten was derived from the German Battenberg family from the Queen's husband, Prince Philip of Greece and Denmark, which is also an actual place in Germany. As far as I can tell Mountchristen is entirely fictional?

Book Henry mentioned having a Great Uncle who abdicated because he was a Nazi, which is irl Duke of Winsdor, Queen Elizabeth's uncle (although the reason he stated was for love), so I think? That the lineage was the same until at least that generation. But Queen Mary, Henry's grandmother said she's been serving the country for 47 years, and Princess Catherine, Henry's mother is 60 years old in 2020, born in 1960, approximately the same age as Prince Andrew, Queen E's third child. Henry was born in 1997, and Prince William was born in 1982. So the generational year gap changes there: for RWRB there's four generations, while irl there are five generations in 2020.

So a bit of math here, assuming that the Duke of Windsor's abdication is the same as the real world, which is 1936, so the lineage is the same up to 1936. The book takes place in 2020, so Queen Mary ascended to the throne in 1973, 37 years after the Duke of Windsor's abdication, a reasonable amount of years for one monarch's reign. So that monarch is where things went differently. As for how it went differently...yeah I don't fucking know my brain cells ran out.

But Movie Henry's royal family name is Hanover-Stuart, two actual houses of royalty: King James IV&I of M&G belongs to the House of Stuart (so what the fuck Nick another coincidental connection between your characters) with Anne, Queen of Britain being the last reigning monarch of the House of Stuart (after her death her cousin George of Hanover inherited the British Throne); Queen Victoria was the last reigning monarch of the House of Hanover (her children belonged to the house of her husband: the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, which was later renamed Windsor during WWI). In our world, the House of Stuart went extinct in 1807, while the House of Hanover still has living members in Europe, granted no longer in direct relations to the British monarchy

So what I'm wondering if for movie verse, where the history of the British royal family changes for Henry to have this different surname:

For Hanover, it's possible that for the universe, Queen Victoria's children still bore her name of Hanover and didn't change it during the war, so the rest of the lineup to Henry kept Hanover. But I cannot for the life of me imagine where would Stuart come from given that the line broke off there

... yeah I don't know what point I'm trying to make or what conclusion I drew, but I used up an hour going down this rabbit hole. If my dad knew I was doing math for this instead of doing my calculus homework he'd kill me but whatever

Also I bet neither Casey nor Matthew actually thought this deep about such a minor thing this is how bad my rwrb brainrot is if we don't get something soon I'm gonna go stir crazy

[fluffypotatey]

hey u know how mk only calls wukong by his title and never his name? and how wukong rarely if ever calls mk "mk," instead usually opting for "kid" or "bud?" and how both of those things are kind of representative of their relationship and how both of them care about each other a lot but they aren't honest with each other or with themselves about the other and how neither of them really wants to confront the fact that the other is a person with flaws and struggles? haha yeah <- normal <- lying about being normal

be glad i have been released from class now :) [narrator: she would later find herself late to her 2nd class while writing this]

so happy you have given me this excuse to talk about— i mean, yes! it is super normal to be thinking about this all the time and be comsumed by it and let me explain why:

i will start by going off on a tangent about names and labels and their narratove importance in stories because i love them and have a problem. (idk the word count here. viewer discretion is advized. i just wrote. it is long. beware)

In the Case of Names: a Sunburst Duo Essay

by Yours Truly <3

In the Case of Names in LMK: a Summary (please for the love of pete be a summary)

Ok, so, let me give y'all a quick overview (i failed. this is you're only warning. i failed, and this became a monster of an essay. run while you still have the chan—) of names in the literary sense. When studying novels and books and shit in your literature classes, you will notice that your professor might discuss the importance or ill-importance of characters' names in the story. For example: in the classic novel Fahrenheit 451, the protagonist's name is fucking Guy Montage to illustrate how he's just some fucking guy, a John Doe, a man stuck and complicit in the dystopian world.

You get me? No? Sorry, you want more examples? Fine then :3 let me introduce you to a story called Hard Times by Charles Dickens. It is an allegorical novel that criticized the utilitarian movement going on in dear old Great Britain in the 19th century thanks to the Industrial Revolution. Some fun characters were Johannes Bounderby and Thomas Gradgrind. Tell me, what images did you imagine when I gave you those names? Did you think of a bouncing ball for Bounderby? Were you imagining something square or maybe a mechanical grinder for Mr. Gradgrind?

Remarkable isn't it. The way choosing a name has on a reader/audience's perception of the character. Names are not just placeholders for a character. Names are the identity of that character. Names can establish their starting arc or their ending. Names can be visual in the sense that they invoke a strong idea of what a character might resemble or what themes they will present the audience with. Removing a character's name also removes their identity.

Remember that.

Anyway, I have talked enough about names in the general literary sense. Let us move on to LMK.

Given that this show is based off of Journey to the West (JTTW), many of the names of the antagonist are already provided, and their English translation is pretty literal (Demon Bull King, Lady Bone Demon, Red Son) with some exceptions (Jing & Yin, the Gold and Silver Demons), but their names all provide a description of what they are and how they should be viewed. Spider Queen is a spider demon and views herself as queen. Pretty solid characterization there. Lady Bone Demon, she's a bone demon and has enough rank to be considered a lady (or that could just be to ID that she is a woman but eh). Princess Iron Fan: she's a celestial princess and wields an iron fan. Got it? Good. These examples are simply here to show that a majority of the JTTW antagonists are still fulfilling their roles as antagonistic characters. What I mean is this: since "A Hero is Born," MK has been fighting against the Monkey King's old enemies from the JTTW book. It's like the moment MK inserted himself into the role of successor, the antagonist themselves were inserted to redo their old role of fighting the "Monkey King." It's almost as if nothing has changed beside the fact that their new op enemy is a "human" wielding the legendary staff.

[hmmmm, wait i actually never put this into words until now and it's fitting very well with the whole "MK's fight against Fate/the Narrative" but we'll just put a pin in that.]

However, when it comes to MK's friends (Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Mei), they all share different names from their reincarnated/ancestral counterparts (Zhu Bajie, Tang Sangzang (they just give Tripitaka a last name lol), Sha Wujing, and Ao Lie). Their identity is separate, distinctive from who they are meant to reflect to the audience. (But look at how Tang still shares the same 1st name to the blessed monk, see how he's the one whose powers are the most similar, see how he being pulled into the direction of emulating the monk, see how much Tang fights it, see—)

Fascinating huh? But let us move on before I forget myself.

In the Case of MK's Names: a Paragraph (DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT GO OFF THE RAILS)

So, in the English version, there is a running gag about how MK's "real" name is long and complicated, and we don't actually know it. All we know is that MK switched it long before the pilot. And even before MK has that talk with Master Subodhi in s4ep7 (or 6? 8?), I would chuckle at how on the nose his name was. MK the Monkie Kid... how silly of the show writers....ahaha, what a funny little decision to make :)

Do we know why MK changed his name? Other than his original one being long, no. Do we know why MK specifically? We don't know. Maybe, in his fanboy brain for all things Monkey King, MK thought it would be cool to have a name that identified close to his idol. A name that identified with someone he wished to emulate and be as powerful as and felt so connected to. But what do I know? I am a mere local gal who feeds off of metas and theories and all things relating to my beloved sunburst duo.

Then, we have MK's many titles: Monkie Kid (IDs him as the new generations Monkey), Successor (IDs him as the one who will succeed Sun Wukong in both the title of Monkey King and power), Noodle Boy (pronounced "New-dle Boi and IDs as the boy who works in his surrogate/adopted dad's noodle shop), Delivery Boy (his actual job for the noodle shop), and last but not least, Harbinger of Chaos.

What makes a harbinger? What is chaos? What are their intentions? Are they good? Bad? Neutral?

So, I've already defined harbinger before and many others have as well, but to sum up: a harbinger is a being/person/thing that announced the coming of something be it good or bad but most of the time the focus is bad. A "Harbinger of Chaos" then, would be the one to announce the coming of Chaos™️ and the disruption of world order. Is this a bad thing? Well, the show presents it at the moment as so, but that doesn't mean it will be. Honestly, the show has shown order and fixed structures more in a bad light and promotes free will and choosing a destiny that fits you as the good thing 👀 (another thing to pin in the MK might to go war with Fate)

But now I have established MK's names and must shut up and move on before I no longer can.

In the Case of Sun Wukong's Names: some Paragraphs (STAY ON TARGET PLEASE)

I will admit that my knowledge of names in China is very low, and by low, I mean I know nothing (most of what I do know comes from asking friends and informational sites). So, let me begin this segment with an excerpt of Sun Wukong gaining his name from the book itself :) and break it down with my interpretation and how that is applied to LMK.

When the Patriarch heard this, he was secretly pleased, and said, “Well, evidently you have been created by Heaven and Earth. Get up and show me how you walk.” Snapping erect, the Monkey King scurried around a couple of times. The Patriarch laughed and said, “Though your features are not the most attractive, you do resemble a pignolia-eating monkey (husun). This gives me the idea of taking a surname for you from your appearance. I intended to call you by the name Hu. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what’s left is a compound made up of the two characters, gu and yue. Gu means aged and yue means female, but an aged female cannot reproduce. Therefore, it is better to give you the surname of Sun. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what we have left is the compound of zi and xi. Zi means a boy and xi means a baby, and that name exactly accords with the fundamental Doctrine of the Baby Boy. So your surname will be ‘Sun.’” When the Monkey King heard this, he was filled with delight. “Splendid! Splendid!” he cried, kowtowing, “At last I know my surname. May the master be even more gracious! Since I have received the surname, let me be given also a personal name..." ..."You will hence be given the religious name ‘Wake-to-the-Void’ (wukong). All right?” “Splendid! Splendid!” said the Monkey King, laughing. “Henceforth I shall be called Sun Wukong.”

What a fucking cutie <3

So, what can we gather from this excerpt? Sun Wukong just gained his official name. No longer is he a monkey with descriptive titles, no longer is he a monkey without a surname to be referred to as and respected for. He now has both a surname and a personal name. And while I don't fully understand everything Master Subodi listed when naming Sun Wukong, it is important to note the importance of it and how happy Wukong is to receiving it.

Before this, the book would simply refer to Wukong as Shihou (stone monkey) or the Handsome Monkey King. Both of these are descriptive titles that just inform you what Wukong is rather than who, just like with the other demons met in JTTW. But now, we get to know him as Sun Wukong, someone more than his titles and such. There's even an explanation in the preface how Wukong's own personal name has significant meaning or relation to Buddhism, but I won't get too much into that since my knowledge is of that is 0 and I want to try and stick to LMK.

Now then, let us examine Wukong's name in the LMK sense. Literally everyone in the show call him either Monkey King or "simian" (and if he really pissed them off, Sun Wukong). The only people to refer to Wukong by his personal name is Nezha, Macaque, and Peng. It is literally just these three. And while we could argue all say it like "Wukong (derogatory)," I believe Peng's the only one who means it. Meaning, I think Macaque says Wukong because he was the closest friend of SWK, thus that's the only name Macaque would ever call him (sure, he said Monkey King and shit in s1 but that was when he was duping MK soooooooo). Nezha calls him Wukong because after the whole Havoc in Heaven and journey stuff, he is the new oldest member to befriend Wukong and not be enemies with him (yes, he will get annoyed and aggravated by him, and he will not always believe Wukong's intentions are great, but he still cares and is his 2nd closests living friend).

Peng, on the other hand, does not give a shit. I fully believe that guy never cared for Wukong. They only joined the brotherhood because of Azure (they even offered for Azure to be the brotherhood's leader). I do not think Peng cares for formalities when it comes to people they dislike. We could argue that maybe Peng cared for Wukong in the beginning, but I do, honestly, not believe it. The only reason Peng even felt betrayed was because it messed up Azure's plan. Not because the two were sworn brothers.

But yeah, very few characters actually call Sun Wukong by his name, and when they do, it establishes not just how close they are/were, but also how long they've known each other. It's the same thing with how Wukong refers to others. He barely calls Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy by their names. He will give people nicknames and shit just to place a safe distance from them because of his own very unhealthy attachment issues.

In the Case of MK and SWK's Names for Each Other: the Actual Sunburst Duo Essay (you are free now.....)

Speaking of attachment issues, let's talk about the Sunburst Duo and how much these two need to sit down and talk.

So, we have discussed how names are integral to identifying a character's purpose, thematic journey, description. We have discussed how a person's title can clue in on certain characterization, present or future, and how they demonstrate the way others view them. Now let us apply this to our beloved sunburst duo.

As mentioned in your ask, @gumy-shark, both MK and Sun Wukong barely call each other by name (MK never has as far as I am aware, and SWK has done so only a few). It's "Monkey King" from MK and "kid," "bud," "buddy" from SWK. Rarely do the two ever think to say each other's name.

In the beginning, I originally thought MK only calls Wukong "Monkey King" as a way to be respectful, and with Wukong, I assumed he called MK "kid" simply because MK was very young to him. However, as we get into s3, and especially s4, MK and Wukong have grown a lot closer. Neither of them see each other as just a mentor or student but as friends. And yet, they cannot seem to stop calling each other by their title or nickname.

Thus, the distance is still there. S3 ends with Wukong promising to do better as a mentor and be more honest with MK, and we do seem him attempt this. He gives out more praises, he's more open about his feelings and then gets sucked into the memory scroll. But here's the kicker: the two are doing a reverse in their dynamic.

When it starts out, it is Monkey King who establishes the line between the two. He will simply be MK's mentor and teach him all the kid has to know in order to succeed him. MK is ecstatic to even be near SWK. This is his idol, the guy he's had a special interest in for years probably. He now gets to train under the Monkey King. He wants to do good. He wants to kickass. He wants to be just like him.

But as the story goes on, we see SWK open up to MK more and care for him deeply and want to protect him, and we see MK uncover the skeletons in SWK's closet and feel so alone and learn that the power he used to wish for is not what he expected. And in the aftermath of s3, it is now SWK who is opening up and trying to help kindle and safely guide their friendship in a healthier path(ish). It is SWK who is placing his own protege on a pedestal because "loook at him! isn't he so great and powerful! he will help this world a lot more than i did". It is SWK who is disregarding th original rules he placed. But now ,it is MK who is keeping the distance more than SWK. It is MK is trying to force some kind of distance. He feels like he shouldn't burden SWK with his doubts and worries. He is terrified of his own powers and their capabilities and worries his actions will make the same mistake as his mentor.

With s3 and s4, SWK has called MK by name quite a few times. Especially in s4. It's not a lot, but it's definitely more than before. And yet, MK cannot call Wukong by name. Personally, I think he might still feel like he's under Wukong's shadow. As his successor, there is a legacy that he will carry when Wukong actually retires and gives his title to MK (which is what I assume Wukong will do??? It is still unclear what exactly MK's succeeding SWK of). And that legacy is quite the burden. I would not be surprised that MK is unable to place himself as being worthy of taking Wukong's place just yet (if ever).

This guy was his idol for a long time. And with that, you tend to place a high pedestal for those people. MK has given Wukong such a high pedestal, and Wukong is very aware of it. It's why the guy even keeps his distance in the first place, and why he's scared to disappoint him. But, MK has learned so much, has been told of the tales and pain his mentor inflicted on others in the past (a past SWK greatly regrets), and yet cannot find it in himself to lower that pedestal or even allow himself to think about it. Because if he does, then he will have to acknowledge his own pain and his own disappointment in someone he not only admires but has come to love like family. And it is very hard to reckon with the hurt and pain caused by someone you consider family.

So yeah, they are silly monkeys who cannot communicate to save their life and need to just sit down and talk or else this will continue to boil and explode and we'll have a SWK and MK showdown (fuck yeah! i will be crying so hard).

[end of essay]

[alexmurison]

Sat amongst clouds of pink Thrift flowers watching the cliffs turn golden as the sunset over the Atlantic Ocean  Land’s End, Cornwall

[alatismeni-theitsa]

God, I always hate that in posts where indigenous people are calling out the denial of European governments in their respective roles in the slave trade/colonialism/imperi8 and the refusal to take accountability for it and without fail, you always get a smug Usian in the replies being like "lmao yeah fuck europe!" With absolutely zero self awareness

Fuck these people to hell and back. Just because they can't bother to look up the EIGHT (!) European countries which did the colonizing, they curse the whole continent of 45 countries.

I repeat: 8 countries out of the fucking 45 (or 50 depending who you ask) countries! And many of us Europeans were second class citizens and traded as slaves during "the colonial period".

These 8 countries are: Great Britain, France, Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, Germany, Belgium, and Italy.

Also, every fucking time a post about France is out there, without fail, multiple of them say "fuck the French". AS IF they know ANYTHING about France except 1-2 historical moments. They don't even live close to France, they don't even interact with French people, they don't know the real reasons someone might dislike France. They have just inherited a hate for France because of previous centuries and don't know what the fuck they're talking about.

I'm sorry....does France have any fucking power over you - the US - atm, or you just want to bitch and moan while other nations - Greece included - are at the mercy of whims of French politicians? Or have we forgotten how many French (and Belgian and German) politicians have been keeping Greece under a financial leash after our our country became poorer because we saved their damned banks??

Still... I'll take a French guy any day over a USAmerican guy because the USian guy is usually the most snob and out of touch of the two. Oh, and the US has fucked up my country worse then France at this point, and is easily the most powerful Empire at the moment.

I'm not against calling out colonialist powers but fuck everyone who speaks bullshit with such confidence. I want delusional USians to SHUT UP

[the-catboy-minyan]

yeah, on top of the Holocaust related implications, they think jews are white colonizers from eastern Europe bc they refuse to accept that Medieval Ashkenaz is not actually where Jews are native to but were exiled to

and I mean, projecting much? it's ironic most of these calls are coming from white Americans, who, y'know, are actually descendants of white colonizers and living on stolen land?

you really have a problem with colonization? because I haven't seen you do anything about it happening at your home. seriously, if your moral compass is this wrong that you think 4th-5th generation Israelis are "evil white colonizers" for escaping pogroms and the fucking holocaust, why don't you care about how you are actually living on proven stolen land where native americans are discriminated against despite it being their native land?

and news flash, our ancestry, religion, culture, and archeological sights prove a connection to Israel. you know the word Judaism? like Judeah? you know, part of Israel?? that's literally where we're from, we're named after the geographical area we originated from.

do you fucking see me shouting "go back to Britain" at y'all? no, because that's not only a horrible thing to say, that's also fucking impossible.

and Idk it's 2am and I'm not sure where I'm going with this rant.

my great grandmother had to give up on her Polish passport and her right for her or her children to ever gain one to be allowed to leave Poland during ww2, she was a child back then and the only surviving member of her family, they literally said "wanna leave? sure, don't come back". my father and grandmother tried getting a polish passport decades later, and were denied. so yeah, I'm sure Poland would be very accepting of us Jews.

[tepkunset]

Imagine thinking "Recruiting Sargent" by Great Big Sea is a PRO-War song. Holy fuck. It's literally about the Battle of Beaumont-Hamel! You know, that time in WWI where the Blue Puttees (Newfoundland soldiers) were fucking slaughtered because Britain didn't know or care what the fuck they were doing? And just ordered everyone to start marching across No Mans Land in the middle of gunfire? And the soldiers were of course cut down with such ease that less than 10% of the Newfies survived? Yeah, Pro-war my ass.

[helyiios]

for the benthan fluffy prompts: “You look really good in my clothes.” <3

It's not like Benji Dunn doesn't have an ego. He does, and quite a big one at that, he's just...kind of learnt to keep it to himself.

Because sure, yes, he's one of the IMF's best. But really, that was just thanks to the teamwork everyone put in. He had nothing to do with that, he followed Ethan's lead and things usually went well. Kind of.

And sure, yes, he'd gotten into Oxford rather easily, and sure he'd been Valedictorian a bunch of times, but that doesn't mean he was that smart. Rather, it was more the fact that he wasn't amongst Britain's brightest, really.

Oxford, he thinks, blinking slowly. Why was he thinking about Oxford, already ? It wasn't like he missed it, (okay, he did a little bit) but that was in the past, so why...

A sneeze, very sudden and violent makes him jump out of his skin. Fuck.

"All good, love ?" he asks as he can hear his boyfriend loudly sniffle into a tissue somewhere in the living room, "d'you want to put the heating on a bit more ?"

"Yeah," Ethan replies, and it's obvious at the sound of his voice that he'd caught a nasty cold, "I'd love that, actually."

"Got you."

Right ! He was cold. He was cold and looking for his Oxford jumper.

He was sure he'd put it somewhere on the pile of fresh laundry, which was odd, because it definitely wasn't there.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he mutters annoyedly, looking through jasmine scented materials, "can't have disappeared."

"What's up ?" Ethan suddenly says, appearing at the corner of the bedroom door, "you sound very pensive."

"No, it's nothing, I just can't find—" Benji stops, looking up at his boyfriend, "—my jumper."

The heavy black Oxford jumper was currently sported by the other man, barely a size too big as the sleeves fell above his fingers rather than his wrists, and he looked properly cozy.

God. So beautiful.

"Ah," the other bashfully replies, scratching his neck, "sorry, I got kind of cold when I woke up, I took the first sweater I saw. I can give it b—“

"No !" Benji almost yells, jumping on his feet, "you look great. You're—God. You look really good in my clothes," he settles on, giving him a playful look over. "Keep it, actually. It fits you."

"You can have one of my CIA sweaters," Ethan offers with a grin, "as an exchange. Unless Hunley'd given you guys one when the IMF had gone rogue ?"

"Pssh," his boyfriend tuts, rolling his eyes, "you'd think they'd give us goodies ? Please. I didn't even get a keychain."

[cult-of-the-eye]

What experience I would give as a statement to Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London? Statement fucking begins...

Summer after GCSEs, whole fam picks up and goes to India for 3 weeks

Listen we are hubristic. We literally go from Britain to Turkey to Delhi airport, to a different airport, to Banaras in a taxi, to Siliguri in a sleeper train, to Kalimpong in a car, back to Siliguri in a van, then to Kolkata in a sleeper bus, to Dhakha, Bangladesh by plane, to my grandparents place in Sylhet by car, then back to Dhakha, then back to Delhi, then back to Turkey and then back to Britain.

Tell me we didn't have at least one entity on our side.

None of us got ill. We had a 6 yr old with us. She didn't complain one bit. I'm 100% sure I blacked out for the majority of it. No other explanation than paranormal.

Those sales assistants in shops have to be fucking avatars of the web or something the way they fucking smile and you until you've blinked and you've bought 3 lehengas and she's like very good ma'am

I met my grandma's sister who looks exactly like my grandma, speaks the exact same way, acts the exact same way. It was so uncanny I could've sworn she just was her. Probably very normal explanation (genetics) but we can never be sure.

I made friends with a hand sized spider in a bathroom by singing "Mr spider, please don't kill me" in the tune of Mr sandman to it every day. It disappeared on the last day. (giving spiral)

I got myself an Indian accent. I am not Indian. (Most of my family is from Bangladesh, I was born there) I am not good at accents. I'm not sure how this transpired (could be some elaborate sociolinguistics explanation but I'm gonna go with paranormal)

We went on a massive family day out with cousins to a river near the mountains and we all had a great time until this little menace of a cousin literally got carried away by a current and we were terrified until one of my uncles literally grabbed him by the leg and yanked him out right before he would've gotten completely carried away. I don't think that's pure luck, personally.

My aunts staged an intervention for me about my posture (Not supernatural, Im just salty)

My dad successfully convinced some strangers who sat next to him on the plane that the reason me and my siblings spoke such good English was that we went to an English medium school. When pressed, he came up with the most elaborate story ever. He gave them a random school we went to, told them we were his boss' kids and he was taking us home, bullshitted a company and then when one of them went oh my dad is a higher up in that company, he says oh didn't he retire recently and the guy goes yeah he did! We are completely oblivious of this story, until he leans over and tells us not to call him dad for the rest of the plane journey. If that's not fucking Stranger behaviour then what is.

We get home, exhausted out of our minds and we realise we can't find our fucking front door key. We pile into the back garden and proceed to search through the entirety of our bags, trouser pockets, pockets within bags, we're all on the verge of tears, I'm catatonic, my little sister has picked up a stick and is slowly peeling it, my other sister is the only one actually looking and my dad is staring at the luggage, as if it had grown legs and was doing a little dance right before his eyes. We do find the keys after 20 minutes. We never mention this again. That's fucking paranormal shit right there don't even try to convince me otherwise. Michael the distortion was fucking with us.

Statement ends... (Although that's definitely not even half the shit that happened)

Watch Jonathan "Jarchivist" Sims crumble beneath my experiences. Hes so bamboozled that he forgets to try and discredit me. I bring him a packet of laddoos and some aachar.