#proudly Canadian

[ottawarealtor]

Happy Canada Day Everyone :) 🍁🇨🇦

Happy 157th Birthday Canada! We are lucky to call you home and as we celebrate our beautiful country we are reminded of the incredible sense of community and diversity in nationalities that makes Canada so special.

Whether you're enjoying the festivities on Parliament Hill, exploring the scenic Gatineau Park, or simply relaxing at home I hope you take time to appreciate all the great oppurtunities Canada has provided.

Wishing you all a safe and happy Canada Day! 🎉🏡

#CanadaDay #ProudlyCanadian #romaniancanadian #CelebrateCanada

[nordic-language-love]

i have this colleague and whenever we’re talking about learning japanese he always just proudly says how he has this phrase book and he just shows people and points to the phrase he wants to say instead of bothering to learn the language and i’m like dude why tf are you here

[propicsmedia]

Proudly Sikh Canadian Series AI Assisted Art Proudly Sikh Canadian Series AI Assisted Art Should we produce Framed Prints and Hoodies etc? #ProudlySikh #Sikh #Sikhs #SikhsofCanada #Sikhi #Sikhism #SikhsinCanada #Sikhsforjustice #unitedsikhs #Punjab #Surrey #brampton #Edmonton #Calgary #Vancouver #Richmond #Toronto #London #India #Punjab #Punjabi #Sikhart #Sikhcultire #Sikhhonour #SikhCanadians #CanadianSikhs #Gurdwara #Amritasar #1985 #Honour #respect

[wolf-skins]

whyyyyy did kamala do that whyyyyyy did she have to go and do that

[evilminji]

You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?

That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.

But!!!

WHAT IF?

They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?

Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.

Riot in the streets.

Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-

Ah.

So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.

One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.

It Fiiiiine, Sam.

He's just here to Talk.

He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.

ON LIVE TELEVISION.

He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~

"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!

And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"

*drops mic*

Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.

Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.

The press secretary faints.

PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!

Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!

And Danny?

Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~

If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.

Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.

(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 4

Pairing: Lance x Reader, Grid x Reader

Summary: no spoilers 😈

A/n: I’m not ready to let them go, so send in book club requests so we can keep the club going 🥲

requests are open 🗣️ masterlist

—————————

“Nico, when did you ask your wife to marry you?” you dangle upside down on his couch, just chilling and asking for life advice, similar to how the book club started.

“When I knew the time is right and she was the one. Are you second guessing Lance?” he asks, sitting in a chair beside you. You are both in your racing suits, ready for the upcoming race.

“Not necessarily, it’s just that we’ve been together for so long, and god I really love him. You could ask me to marry you right now and I’d say no, that’s how down bad I am,”

“He’s your pookie,” Nico says, smiling proudly at using slang.

“Hell yeah,” you high five him. “I know he wants to marry me, I just wish he’d propose,” you groan.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Never, ever, ask a girl that. And the answer is no. I just- I don’t want to rush him. I know Lancelot, and he’s gonna want to make it perfect, so I don’t want to make him feel rushed,” you explain and Nico nods.

“Well then, in an alternate universe, I have already asked you to marry me,” Nico says, trying to comfort you.

It’s true, on Earth 2, you and Nico are closer in age and married.

“God, I can only hope,” you grin at the Haas driver, moving to sit normally.

“Don’t worry about it, I see the way he looks at you, it’s only a matter of time,” Nico reassures you.

“Thank you. You really are one of my closest friends. Our little club is my family,” you tell Nico who pulls you into a hug.

“We always will be. Competitors on the track, family off the track,” Nico says as Kevin walks in.

“Y/n, you okay?” Kevin asks, sitting on the other side of you.

“I’m okay, just a little in my bag, probably about to start my period or something,” you wave Kevin off.

“Okay, well you are basically our grid daughter so if there is anything bothering you, let me know,” he gives you a small hug.

“Guys, stop, you are gonna make me cry for real,” you tell them, a little laughter in your voice.

“Alright, go crush this race,” Nico says, walking you out of Haas. You head back to your garage, feeling a lot better than you did before.

Little did you know, was you were venting to Nico, Lance was panicking in front of Fernando, Lewis, and Valtteri.

“What if she says no? Oh my god, she will finally admit that she actually despises me and barely tolerates me,” Lance paces.

“Mate. I don’t know if you noticed, but she looks at you like you hung the moon and the starts. You look at her like she is the thing that makes you live and breathe. You will be ok,” Lewis quotes the song he wrote based on the book you selected.

“Really?” Lance stops his pacing, his eyes shining happily.

“Yes, you two are insanely love sick, it is cute,” Fernando says, amused at the Canadian.

“Just ask her when she wins, she will be too excited to say no,” Valtteri says, Lewis and Fernando gasp, as well as Lance.

“That’s not nearly romantic enough,” Lance groans.

“We arranged for a romantic track walk and picnic at turn two, here is a book with a hole in the pages. When she opens it, eso,” Fernando says, confirming what they had been working on.

“It took a little convincing the FIA, but we did it,” Lewis says. Lance visibly relaxes, a lot of tension releasing.

“How can I repay you for this?” Lance asks, a little overwhelmed, but very grateful for their help.

“Take care of our grid daughter, make sure she is happy for the rest of her life,” Valtteri says simply.

“Hey guys, sorry we are late,” Daniel walks in with Checo.

“What did we miss?” Checo asks, sensing the odd atmosphere.

“Just giving Lance permission to marry our grid daughter,” Lewis tells them.

“Did you ask Kimi?” Daniel asks, the whole grid knows how close the two have gotten. You don’t have a great relationship with your dad, similar to Max, so Kimi has easily filled that role.

“He was the first person I asked, then I asked Kevin and Nico since she is really close with them,” Lance nods, knowing you are probably with them.

“We will be out there taking pictures, don’t worry,” Valtteri reassures the young Aston Martin driver.

“Amigos, it is race time,” Checo says, leading everyone out to the track. Lance spots you with Logan.

“Yeah, you can totally join, I’ll give my copy of this weeks book since I finished it. Just don’t tell the other non-club drivers,” you tell the American. You have gotten closer with him, seeing how excluded he is from some other groups in the Paddock.

“I’ll see you later, thanks for being a good friend,” Logan says, squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Hey, Lancie,” you grin, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“Hello, love. Are you excited for our date after the race?” Lance asks, his hand resting on your waist, his warmth blocked by your fireproofs. You chat until you reach your respective destinations.

“Good luck, I’ll see you when I overtake you,” you tell him, and he returns your sentiments with a laugh.

You end up placing P4 after pushing the car harder than you ever had before, so you were extremely pleased. After a shower, media responsibilities, and debriefs, you change into a sundress and fix your hair. Lance meets you outside the motorhome, looking handsome in a button up and dress pants.

“You look so hot,” you tell him, jaw dropped a little. 10/10 girls would agree that the only thing hotter than a guy with a baby or small animal, is a guy dressed up in a well fitting suit.

“You look cuter,” he kisses you sweetly, grabbing your hand as he leads you through the paddock to the track. He told you about the track walk after weighing in. The grid helped him set up the date spot while you got ready. Your breath is taken away a bit when you approach turn two. There are fairy lights hanging from the fence and a blanket with a picnic basket on the track.

“Lance, this is incredible. How did you set it up?” you ask him in awe. The clear night sky lets stars shine bright above you.

“The grid helped, especially Fernando, he’s a big romantic and really liked the idea,” Lance admitted shyly.

“It’s perfect,” you take his hand to assist you in sitting down. Lance sits beside you, offering you a snack from the picnic basket. Conversation flows easily between you, talking about anything and everything except for racing, the one topic always off limits on date nights. Lance reaches into the basket and pulls out a book.

“I got you a little something,” Lance says, pushing down his nerves. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the grid popping out of their hiding spots in the grass area.

“I do love my books,” you smile, taking the book from him. As you usually do, you flip through the first few pages, pausing when you see a ring taped to the third page.

“I had a big speech planned, but will you let me make you happy for the rest of your life and make me happy the rest of mine by marrying me?” Lance asks and you can only nod as tears start flowing. You launch yourself into his arms, holding him close.

“I love you so much,” you whisper and he holds you tighter.

“I love you more,” he says. You pull away slightly and kiss him. Lance carefully removes the ring from the book and puts it on your hand. It’s simple yet stunning, absolutely perfect for you. You both look at the grid when they start cheering and hollering.

There is a social media intern for Formula One somewhere in the group who captured the whole thing on video, Fernando paid her under the table for it and he hid another camera and microphone on the wall of the track. He knew the guys would only remember to get pictures.

You take your time thanking each driver and hugging them, you really tear up when you see Kimi there.

“Congratulations, you raced so well today, I am very happy for you,” Kimi actually hugs you, if there wasn’t photo proof from Lando and Daniel, who’s jpg accounts broke the news of the engagement (you wouldn’t want it any other way), people wouldn’t believe it.

“Thank you. Wait, you said you weren’t going to be here for the race!” you gasp, looking at him a little betrayed.

“If you knew I was here, you would insist on getting dinner with me instead of going on a date,” Kimi shrugs, a small knowing smile on his face. Not only is he basically your dad now, he has been mentoring you a few times a week, even hopping in the sim once in a while.

“You’re right. I’m just glad you approve,” you smile as Lance wraps an arm around your waist.

“He was the first person I asked,” Lance kisses the side of your head.

“Wait, I thought we were the first,” Kevin says, looking at Nico.

“As long as she’s happy, I’ll get over it,” Nico jokingly mourns his loss of you.

“The ring is gorgeous,” George says, inspecting it. He is the babygirl of the group.

“Alright guys, let’s leave the happy couple alone,” Logan says, Lewis helping him herd everyone away from you and Lance.

“This may have been the most perfect day ever,” you sigh happily.

“Only because I am with the perfect girl,” Lance grins at you, holding you close as a blush covers your face.

“Shut up,” you giggle, pulling him down onto the blanket with you. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes before you yawn.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Lance chuckles, helping you stand up. He is grateful that his assistant is taking care of the cleanup and your assistant packed up your drivers room for you.

“Mhmm, I need cuddles ASAP,” you yawn again, thankful for everything the day has brought you and that the hotel is close by. When you get back, it doesn’t take too long for you to crash.

“How did I get so lucky?” Lance whispers, pulling you close to him. Your steady breathing lulls him to sleep.

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Love Sea Novel Excerpt: Mahasamut Punishing Tongrak (Special Episode)

"Tongrak!"

Fun my ass!

That was what Tongrak thought as he looked into the intense, angry eyes filled with apprehension.

An hour ago, he was having fun because as soon as he stepped into the bar, he became the center of attention for both men and women. He knew he was attractive and always drew attention wherever he went. Palm had done a good job spreading the word across the island, because curious eyes were watching him from every corner.

That was enough to fulfill Palm's request. And... he'd already texted his boyfriend.

If anyone wanted to see Mahasamut with him, they'd get their wish tonight.

Let everyone know that the island's treasure already had an owner! And he loves the owner so much!

Tongrak thought proudly, answering a few questions from the locals, turning down a few advances, until... he met a fellow college friend.

At first, he just helped the Canadian guy who was confused about the menu. They hit it off, talking about their university and city, and he learned the other had just broken up with his girlfriend and fled to Thailand alone. They just clicked, reminiscing about the city they once lived in for years. That was all until...

The man in front of Tongrak pressed close, placing a hand on his thigh, causing him to jerk away, but before he could react, a large hand grabbed his own, furrowing his brow.

Tongrak tried to pull away again, but the warm palm still held his hand.

"Why not?" the man asked.

His light-colored eyes looked sweetly at him, but the writer wasn't swayed. His fair hand was ready to yank away, but then...

"Tongrak!"

Before Tongrak could react, the rough hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him into a warm embrace and a familiar scent.

His heart sank.

Tongrak knew who it was before even seeing the face of the hand's owner.

"Mut," he called out, startled. Tongrak looked up at the sharp-featured, tense, angry face with veins bulging on his neck.

Mahasamut wasn't looking at him, but at the Canadian guy with a scary look.

Mahasamut had a big build, and Tongrak believed that Mahasamut wouldn't lose in a fight. So, the tight grip on his wrist and the intense eyes that seemed to suck the breath out of the onlooker made his slender body tremble.

Tongrak didn't dare say anything, feeling the fury emanating from this man.

Mahasamut looked at the foreigner with dangerous eyes and then yanked him out of the bar so quickly that Tongrak didn't dare make a sound.

The last thing he saw was Palm crouching behind the bar counter, and even though he couldn't hear what the kid said, he knew they were thinking the same thing.... This is going to end badly.

---

---

Thud!

Tongrak jolted as his bare back was pushed against the wall of the house, his honey-colored eyes trembling, looking at the man in front of him with fear.

Mahasamut was furious... very furious.

"I didn't do anything, believe me."

"Then why did you let him touch your hand!?"

Tongrak flinched as the deep voice yelled at him.

Since they'd met, he'd rarely seen Mahasamut angry. The other was always calmer, always listening, always more mature. No matter how badly Tongrak behaved, Mahasamut would cool him down, gently guiding and teaching him. The only time Tongrak saw his lover angry was when he came to make up and was too scared to speak. But that was anger mixed with sadness. This time, it was different.

The dark eyes were so frightening that he almost stopped breathing. The large hand gripped his arm tightly.

"I didn't..." Tongrak heard his own voice shaking, trying to grab Mahasamut's hand as he explained, "he just suddenly grabbed my hand. Believe me. Palm asked me to sit at the bar for a bit. I just did what Palm asked, and I already told you that, too. I didn't do anything. Really."

Tongrak looked into those wild, furious eyes, pleading. He was almost ready to kneel and beg.

"Can you not be angry?"

With a swoosh, the writer flinched as Mahasamut brushed his hand aside to grab his palm and yanked it up to eye level.

"I saw him holding your hand."

"I shook it off."

The slender man tried to touch the rugged, handsome face, but the other turned away.

It's scary.

Tongrak's heart pounded. He didn't know if he was scared or intimidated when those sharp eyes stared at him, radiating an aura that would keep anyone away.

"Where else did he touch you?"

The deep voice was so intense, it seemed to vibrate through him, along with the tall figure pressing against Tongrak, the heat almost scorching.

Their eyes locked as if trying to read each other's souls.

"... my waist," he whispered back, barely audible.

"Ah!"

Tongrak stiffened, gasping as the rough hand pulled his shirt from his pants, and then the hot flesh squeezed his bare waist hard enough to leave a mark and slid up to his chest. He didn't dare look down, only at the eyes in front of him that shone with a crazed light.

Thump, thump, thump.

Tongrak's heart hammered in his chest, pumping blood to his flushed face until it was a deep shade of red.

"... where else?" a deep voice whispered close to his lips.

Tongrak averted his gaze briefly.

Should I tell him?

Deep down, he knew what was coming. He knew he would be punished and understood that he shouldn't reveal more than necessary. Yet something compelled him to answer truthfully.

"My legs."

"Take off your pants."

The listener shuddered at the command, looking at Mahasamut with a startled expression.

They both stood on the spacious porch in front of the house, prompting a repeat of the words.

"What did you say?"

"I said, take off your pants!" The command was repeated, louder this time, causing Tongrak to hurriedly unbuckle his belt under the unwavering gaze that offered no help.

Mahasamut watched him fumble in silence, but this silence made Tongrak's back slick with sweat, his heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. His hands trembled as he undid his belt and took off his pants. The more Mahasamut watched, the more he shook.

He didn't like that Mahasamut said nothing, but he did like being watched like this.

The soft fabric of his pants pooled around his ankles.

A rough hand seized his thigh, squeezing it hard enough to make Tongrak gasp for breath. He looked up into those sharp, strong eyes, half of Mahasamut's face obscured by the shadows of the evening, making him look like a death god come to claim a life- dangerous, yet so devastatingly handsome.

The man pressed his body close, his muscles as hard as iron against Tongrak.

A burning hand slid up to his inner thigh, making Tongrak jerk in response.

Tongrak knew he should first try to cool down the other man, but his body responded honestly. His core burned, his underwear was damp with desire. Wherever Mahasamut touched, it felt like he left scorching marks. Even the deep voice that asked again was frighteningly arousing.

"Where else?"

"... that's it," his voice trembled with a pitiable crack.

And it was even more pitiable when Mahasamut whispered in his ear.

"Do you know I won't forgive you easily?"

Then punish me.

"What should I do to make you not angry?"

Please, punish me. Do it until I don't dare to do this again.

Tongrak looked up with pleading eyes as the handsome, fierce face leaned in close.

"Find a way."

Fingertips caught his chin, forcing him to meet those wild eyes, and before his brain could catch up, Tongrak opened his mouth to a kiss that plunged in fiercely, tasting almost blood. His heart raced with excitement, his body pressing against the larger frame, his hips grinding against the other's, shamelessly close as their tongues waged war.

Mahasamut liked kissing him, but this time it was hotter, more violent, and savage without tenderness. His sharp teeth nipped at Tongrak's lower lip, making him whimper, but the other man didn't listen to his protests, instead plunging his tongue into Tongrak's mouth, greedy and unrelenting. Pressed against the wall with no space between them, a large hand groped his thigh, fingers trailing to the very inside but refusing to touch further.

It was Tongrak himself who pressed his lower body closer, grinding his hips.

"Mut, ah, Mut," he moaned and groaned, trying to press closer to that hand while his mouth was still captive.

Mahasamut kissed him as if to devour him.

Their tongues tangled fiercely until saliva trickled at the corners of their mouths, and the taller man moved to kiss around his cheeks, down his neck, his hot tongue tracing his jaw before flicking over his Adam's apple. Tongrak shuddered, tilting his head back, his pale hand reaching to grasp the firm flesh beneath the cargo pants.

It was hard and hot, and he wanted it in his mouth.

"Take off your underwear."

Mahasamut commanded beside his cheek, and the listener didn't hesitate to strip off his underwear on the porch, revealing his arousal that was embarrassingly wet with precum.

The tall figure stepped back just enough to stare at it, making Tongrak squirm.

"Take off my shirt."

Now, whatever Mahasamut ordered, Tongrak would comply easily. His fair hands reached to remove Mahasamut's Hawaiian shirt, trembling as he watched it fall to the floor, his heart skipping a beat when the larger man grabbed the hem of his tank top and pulled it over his head with swift movements, revealing the line of muscles that moved beautifully, leaving Tongrak to stare at the man before him.

"Ah!!"

"Do you want it that badly?"

Tongrak shivered when a fingertip touched his slick tip. With just a brush of a thumb, he was close to finishing right then.

"Just looking at me undress makes you this eager? You don't look at others like this, do you?"

"No..."

"I didn't say you could speak."

Tongrak immediately shut his mouth, trembling under the teasing fingers, then squeezing himself hard. He wanted to move, to press against the rough palm.

"It looks like you'll have to endure a bit more, Mr. Tongrak."

That's when the larger man pulled him into the bedroom and pushed Tongrak against the bed, making his upper body fall against the mattress while his legs still touched the floor, spread wide to reveal his eager flesh. Mahasamut's sharp gaze pressed down on him, and then... a wicked smile, he said, "Go on, finish for me."

"Mut..."

"Ssh," Mahasamut placed a finger on those pretty lips and pushed it into his mouth.

And with that, Tongrak flicked his tongue around the long finger, drawing it deep into his throat, while his smooth hand moved to grasp his own center. His legs spread wider, allowing the sharp gaze to see every part of him.

If Mahasamut wanted to see, he'd do it.

"Uh, ah..."

Even though Mahasamut was just watching, Tongrak felt waves of pleasure, moaning from his throat while still sucking on the long finger as if it were that hot flesh. His legs lifted higher, his hand moving faster, aware of the wet sounds and the glistening moisture.

The first time Tongrak pleasured himself in front of someone was for Mahasamut, and he relished the sharp gaze on him, the shadow that partly hid Mahasamut, the long finger thrusting into his throat mercilessly, the embarrassment that made his flesh tremble with excitement, his hips moving faster.

"Ah.... ah!"

At that moment, his beautiful eyes widened when a cool liquid was poured on his sweet spot, and before he could react...

Mahasamut's thick fingers penetrated the tender channel that was still soft from last night's sex, thrusting deep to his favorite spot, making him arch his back like a bow, his legs tensing against the bed, his buttocks lifting off the soft mattress.

"I didn't tell you to stop. Keep going."

Mahasamut pulled his finger from Tongrak's mouth, his voice firm. WIth his free hand, he lifted Tongrak's legs higher, allowing the long finger that had almost completely withdrawn to thrust back into his tight channel.

"Ah... ah, oh Mut, Mut, right there, harder."

Smack!

"Don't stop!"

Tongrak's eyes teared up as he was spanked on the buttocks, leaving a red mark. His fair hand, which had paused, stroked himself again while his hips swayed uncontrollably as Mahasamut kept pressing on the sensitive spot inside. His mouth opened wide, moaning incoherently.

"Don't stop, no more, give it to me again." Tongrak moved his hand faster, begging louder, oblivious to the squelching sounds echoing around the room. Then, his tearful eyes pleaded with the owner.

"No more fingers, enough, ah, give it to me... now."

"Tell me what you want."

Mahasamut rose above Tongrak's body, his large hand on the beautiful chin, whispering low. His fierce eyes stared down, squeezing to force the pretty one to speak with a trembling voice.

"Fuck me... Mut, take me... I want you... please."

That was all it took for Tongrak's world to flip upside down. He was pushed into a crawling position on the bed, his fair buttocks raised to receive, his legs spread wide, feeling the rough palm push both cheeks apart, forcing him to grip the bed sheet.

Tongrak's eyes widened, tears streaming down as the hot, hard member penetrated his tight hole. It was hot, big, almost suffocating, but it made him climax instantly, his cries echoing throughout the room, and then...

"Ah!!!!"

"Who told you to cum?"

Just as it thrust in deep, Tongrak... finished.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Rak's sorry, ah... sob, ah."

Tongrak cried out unintelligibly before jolting, his smooth hand grabbing the neck of the person behind him as the hot, hard flesh thrust in again. His tears flowed with intense pleasure. He knew that the already fierce Mahasamut was more violent than usual, not allowing him to rest, deliberately thrusting hard to drive him crazy. The large hand grabbed his front, stroking briefly before it was as hard as before.

"Rak, Rak's sorry, ah."

Mahasamut turned Tongrak's face to receive a hot kiss, forcing his tongue out to tangle outside his mouth while the other hand slipped through the remaining buttons of his shirt, pushing him to kneel on the bed, pulling him up to lean against the broad back, making way for the hot, thrusting member inside him.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed throughout the spacious room, igniting the desires of both parties and causing him to flare up intensely. Tongues entwined outside of their mouths, a lovely piece of flesh released a continuous stream of slick moisture. Then, the fair body shuddered as a large hand squeezed and teased a sweetly colored nub, pulling it until Tongrak quivered with a cold shock.

"it hurts..."

"Do you like it?"

"I like it. Squeeze again. Make it hurt. Ah, make Rak learn his lesson... Mut!" Tongrak cried out embarrassingly, yet his hips met each thrust without yielding.

And so, Mahasamut pulled the fair frame down to sit astride his lap, and before Tongrak could tense his legs to receive him, the large hand gripped his hips, lifting them just enough to...

"Ah!!!! Mut, too hard. Mn, it tingles, ah..."

Mahasamut relentlessly drove into him, plunging deep inside until it was overwhelming yet sending shivers of pleasure throughout his body, making him cry out loudly. Tongrak's hands clutched at the man behind him, who was panting and trembling. Mahasamut's deep, sexy voice resonated in Mahasamut's ears with sobs and gasps, unable to stop his hips.

Again, I can't, I can't...

"Ah!!!!"

Without waiting long, Tongrak released a cloudy white fluid that sprayed all the way to the headboard while strong arms locked around his waist, the strong hips pounding him fiercely. The deep voice filled the room before Tongrak felt a wave of warmth as the hot liquid overflowed inside him.

"Wait, wait, just a moment, let me rest."

"When did I say you could rest?"

Tongrak's voice shook as he was flipped to lie on his back, one leg pushed up almost against his own chest, but he was paralyzed when he met the sharp gaze directed at him.

Tongrak should've been scared, but why was he trembling with excitement instead?

Mahasamut was fierce, wild, and unyielding, like the sea during a storm, but Tongrak couldn't take his eyes off the man before him. This man was dangerously handsome, and he couldn't resist him. Before he could brace himself, he gasped and grabbed the large hand tightly as the handsome face buried itself in his tight entrance, pushing a tongue inside selfishly.

Damn it, even after all this...

"Harder, ah, it feels good. Go deeper, lick more. I like it so much."

He moaned, clutching the thick black hair tightly, ready to receive any punishment this man was willing to give.

Tongrak knew he shouldn't feel this way, but he... liked it when Mahasamut was jealous.

He liked everything about this man.

---

---

Maybe I should make him jealous again.

The thought occurred to him that if Mahasamut heard it, he'd be punished so much that he wouldn't be able to leave the bed.

But what could he do? He liked it!

It didn't matter. He was still paying Mahasamut, but this time paying with the currency called Tongrak.

[afeelgoodblog]

Best News of Last Week - July 3, 2023

🐕 - This dog is 'disc'-overing hidden treasures! Get ready for the 'paws'-itively successful fundraiser, Daisy's Discs!

1. Most unionized US rail workers now have new sick leave

More than 60% of U.S. unionized railroad workers at major railroads are now covered by new sick leave agreements, a trade group said Monday.

Last year railroads came under fire for not agreeing to paid sick leave during labor negotiations.

2. Missing teen found after being lost in the wilderness for 50 hours

Esther Wang, 16, had been hiking with three other people through the Maple Ridge park on Tuesday.

The group made it to Steve’s lookout around 2:45 p.m. that day.However, when they headed back down to the campsite, after about 15 minutes of hiking, the group leader realized Wang was missing. They returned to the lookout to look for Wang but couldn’t find her. The leader headed to the trail entrance to notify a park ranger and police.

“Esther Wang has been located. She’s healthy, she is happy and she’s with family.”

3. A dog has retrieved 155 discs from woods. They’ll be on sale soon, with proceeds going to the park in West Virginia where they were found

Meet Daisy, the yellow Labrador retriever with a unique talent for finding lost Frisbee golf discs at Grand Vue Park in West Virginia. Four years ago, while on a walk with her owner Kelly Mason, Daisy discovered a disc in the woods and proudly brought it back. Since then, Daisy's obsession with finding stray discs has grown, and she has collected an impressive cache of 155 discs.

Mason and park officials have now come up with a plan to return the discs to their owners if they are labeled, and any unclaimed discs will be sold as a fundraiser to support the park's disc golf courses. Daisy's Discs is expected to be a success, with many excited about the possibility of recovering their lost discs thanks to Daisy's remarkable skills.

4. Australian earless dragon last seen in 1969 rediscovered in secret location

A tiny earless dragon feared to be extinct in the wild has been sighted for the first time in more than 50 years – at a location that is being kept secret to help preservation efforts.

The Victorian grassland earless dragon, Tympanocryptis pinguicolla, has now been rediscovered in the state, according to a joint statement issued by the Victorian and federal Labor governments on Sunday.

5. Detroit is going to power 100% of its municipal buildings with solar

All of Detroit’s municipal buildings are going to be powered by neighborhood solar as part of the city’s efforts to combat climate change – check out the city’s cool grassroots plan. Meet Detroit Rock Solar City.

The city has determined that it’s going to need around 250 acres of solar panels in order to achieve 100% solar power for its municipal buildings.

6. Canada Officially Bans Cosmetic Testing on Animals

The fight for cruelty-free beauty in Canada has seen a significant breakthrough as the Canadian government legislates a full ban on cosmetic animal testing and trade, marking a victory for Animal rights advocates and eco-conscious consumers.

This landmark decision is part of the Budget Implementation Act (Bill C-47), not only prohibiting cosmetic animal testing but also putting an end to the sale of cosmetics that use new animal testing data for safety substantiation.

7. Belize certified malaria-free by WHO

The World Health Organization (WHO) has certified Belize as malaria-free, following the country’s over 70 years of continued efforts to stamp out the disease.

“WHO congratulates the people and government of Belize and their network of global and local partners for this achievement”, said Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, WHO Director-General. “Belize is another example of how, with the right tools and the right approach, we can dream of a malaria-free future.”

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Support this newsletter ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

[adascore]

Out Of The Blue | J. Fleming

pairings: jessie fleming x chelsea!reader

warnings: angst. swearing. crying. jessie’s transfer.

author’s note: inspired by @pixiesfz (fic: moving on) and @jflemings (fic: inevitable), I definitely recommend checking out their versions of the transfer!

masterlist

•••••••

January, 2024

''Yeah, that does sound great. I'll, uh, think about it and call you tomorrow… Okay, thanks… Bye bye.'' Jessie hung up the phone, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She sighed as she glanced back into the living room, her girlfriend sitting on their couch, blissfully unaware of anything.

Y/N wasn't entirely oblivious to Jessie's agent researching new clubs. It had been an ongoing discussion for a while now, fueled by Jessie's frustration with her dwindling game time at Chelsea.

Jessie quietly sat back down on the couch, not wanting to disturb her partner's tv-show.

''Everything okay?'' The Canadian turned her head, finding Y/N's eyes on her.

She nodded, biting her lips. ''Yeah, good… just my agent.'' She replied, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice.

''Any news?'' Y/N asked.

Bless her heart, Jessie thought. Despite not being the biggest fan of no longer getting to be teammates, Y/N had been very supportive of her girlfriend's search, believing her talent was indeed being wasted at Chelsea.

''Uh, nothing new,'' the midfielder lied, ''she's still in talks with a few clubs.''

''Oh, okay.'' The forward smiled, redirecting her focus back to the series she was watching.

Jessie didn't want to lie, she really didn't. However, telling the love of your life that you received a great offer from an American club and that you're really considering it, isn't an easy thing to do. The Canadian tried telling herself she should only tell Y/N when it's official, but Jessie knew from the moment her agent informed her of the option, that this was the right direction for her to go.

Her game time would improve compared to Chelsea's, and Janine and Christine would become her club teammates- she'd be stupid not to accept. But Portland was far from London, and Portland was far away from Y/N, her true home.

She promised herself she would tell her when the time was right, when the offer from the Thorns was official and her future was certain.

''I think she might stay until the end of the season, and then see what her options are.'' Y/N responded to Erin, after the Scot asked about Jessie's future.

Erin nodded. ''Nice, we can give her a proper sendoff then.''

''I'd say a party, but I don't think she would want to be the center of attention.'' Millie chimed in, thinking about how they could celebrate the younger woman's time at Chelsea.

''She'd look more like a tomato than she already does.'' Erin laughed, imagining her fellow midfielder's reaction.

''But it's good that we'll have at least this last season with her. The last match is gonna be emotional, Emma leaving, Jessie leaving…'' Millie said once the laughter had died down.

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yeah, but I just want to see her happy, you know? She loves the team, but, you know, with the game time and everything.''

Both women nodded, understanding Jessie's reasons for wanting to play somewhere else.

''Do you know where she's maybe going?'' Millie asked, curiously.

The younger woman shrugged her shoulders. ''She has plenty of options,'' Y/N grinned proudly, ''I think she's staying in Europe, though- Champions League and all.''

''She's gonna become a rival.'' Erin teased, rubbing her hands together in feigned mischief.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the thought, but the underlying sadness of Jessie's departure lingered in the back of her mind.

''I also see her staying close by, at least near you.'' Millie lightly nudged her teammate's shoulder, sending a wink.

Y/N grinned back, but there was a hint of dejection in her eyes as she glanced at her friends "She's gotta do what's best for her," she said softly, her gaze drifting to the floor, "that's the most important thing.” She murmured.

As Y/N's thoughts lingered on Jessie's impending departure, she was abruptly pulled back to the present by the sound of someone's voice.

''Hey, you're ready to go?'' Jessie asked, her arrival at their table breaking the somber silence that had settled over them.

Amazing timing, Fleming, Y/N thought as her girlfriend approached their table.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jessie, her dejected mood momentarily forgotten as she met her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah." She replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile gracing her lips.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their amusement evident as they observed the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor in the presence of her girlfriend.

Y/N got up from her chair. ''See you tomorrow, beautiful ladies.'' She bid her friends goodbye.

''Tomorrow, love birds.'' ''See ya!''

Jessie silently grabbed her partner's bag from the floor, and the pair walked together to the parking lot.

''They're so adorable it makes me sick.'' Erin muttered.

Millie laughed at her teammate. ''I think you might be allergic.''

As they drove out of the Chelsea training complex, a heavy silence enveloped the couple, weighing down the air in the car. Silences weren't necessarily unusual for them, but there was something about this one that had Y/N feeling confused and worried at the same time.

Glancing sideways at Jessie, Y/N noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension etched into the lines of her face. It was clear that something was bothering her, something she was struggling to articulate.

"Hey, Jess," the striker began hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between them, "is everything okay?”

Jessie's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she wrestled with her thoughts. ''Yeah, just a bit tired.'' She responded, her voice strained.

Her answer did nothing to soothe her. There was a distance in the Canadian's eyes, a hesitancy in her voice that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me, you know." Y/N said, and she reached out to Jessie's hand.

For a moment, Jessie tensed up at the display of affection. Her breath was caught in her throat as she struggled with what to tell her partner. ''Can we talk about this when we're home? I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving.'' She asked, momentarily making eye contact with her.

Y/N nodded, though the unease still gnawed at her. "Of course," she replied gently, withdrawing her hand but keeping her gaze fixed on Jessie, "we can talk about it when we get home."

The remainder of the drive passed in an uncomfortable conversation about their thoughts on the training that day.

As they finally pulled into their driveway, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation sending a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She followed Jessie inside, the heavy silence hanging between them like a dense fog.

Once inside, Y/N took a seat on the couch. Her eyes fixed on the midfielder like a hawk as Jessie paced through the room.

Taking a a few deep breaths to ease herself, Jessie finally broke the silence that had enveloped them. "I... I received an offer." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N perked up at the revelation. ''An offer?'' She repeated. ''That's great, no?'' Her voice tinged with uncertainty.

But as she watched her girlfriend unconsciously shake her head, she knew there was more to the story than Jessie was letting on.

The Canadian hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "From the Portland Thorns," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible, "they want me to play for them.”

Y/N's heart sank at the news, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ''Portland?'' She muttered. ''In the U.S.?''

Jessie silently nodded. ''Yeah, the NWSL.'' She confirmed.

Her heart sank even further at the confirmation, the reality of the situation settling in like a heavy weight on her chest. ''Wow… that's, uh, that's amazing- with Janine and Christine, that's really nice, babe.'' She tried to muster a smile, but it felt hollow on her lips.

Despite her attempt to be supportive, the weight of Jessie's decision bore down on Y/N like a heavy burden. The thought of being separated by thousands of miles was something out of a nightmare.

But as she looked at Jessie, her heart ached at the thought of holding her back from pursuing her dreams. She knew that she had to be strong, to support her partner no matter what path she chose.

''Thank you.'' Jessie was unsure of how to proceed, it was clear that her girlfriend wasn't expecting a transfer to the other side of the world. "I... I know this isn't easy," she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But I have to do what's best for my career.”

Y/N reached out, gently squeezing Jessie's hand. "I know," she replied softly, ''and this is gonna be really good for you.''

''So… you're not upset?''

She shook her head, a forced smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''Of course not. I know you're going to do amazing there, and I'm happy that they are seeing your talent. It's a great club, Jess. And if it means you'll be happier... then I'm all for it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Jessie's eyes as she pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. "I love you." She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, returning the embrace, ''I think you forgot for a moment that I'm, like, your biggest fan.'' She chuckled, tears forming in her own eyes.

Jessie laughed now as well. "How could I forget?" She echoed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked at Y/N. "You're the best.”

As the evening wore on, the weight of Jessie's decision lingered in the air, casting a somber mood over the apartment. Despite the reassurances they had exchanged, the reality of the situation still hung heavy on their hearts.

A few days later, the time came for Jessie to face her teammates and share the news of her new club. The staff had gathered the team into the meeting room with the excuse they needed to go over some past matches.

''Before we get into some of the matches, there is someone here who has some news for us,'' Emma began, ''Jessie?'' The coach signaled for the Canadian to take her spot at the front of the room.

The midfielder quietly walked towards Emma. ''Hey, everyone,” she awkwardly greeted the room, "I, uh... I have something I need to tell you.” A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Jessie.

Y/N's eyes became fixed on the floor, not feeling ready to hear this for a second time.

''I've received an offer from the Portland Thorns,” she said, still a bit on edge, ''and… I've decided to accept it. So this is actually my, uh, last day as a Blue.''

"I... I know this might come as a surprise," Jessie continued, her voice faltering. "you guys are an amazing group, and I'm so lucky to have shared the pitch with such incredible players. All of you will always have a special place in my heart, and, yeah, just thank you for everything.'' She finished her small speech, becoming emotional.

She received applause from the squad and staff in the room. Emma was the first to give her a hug. A flicker of irritation flashed through Y/N at the thought of their coach's role in Jessie's decision to leave, but she pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.

All the players got up from their seats to say their own ‘thank you's' or give their own hugs to Jessie. However, the young striker remained seated, finding herself unable to follow her teammates.

With a heavy heart, Y/N quietly rose from her seat, her footsteps barely audible as she made her way towards the door.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as she almost went for the door handle. ''You okay?''

Y/N was met with Sam as she turned around, the Australian's face expressing concern over her teammate's exit without having said anything to her girlfriend.

''Yeah, just need the bathroom.'' She replied, quickly.

Sam nodded and let her go, but she was not convinced. The No. 20 shared a look with her captain who had also watched the young woman's escape.

Millie swiftly ruffled the Canadian's hair, before walking over to Sam. ''What was that?''

''I don't know, said she needed the bathroom, but she went before the meeting.'' The experienced striker explained, a furrow in her eyebrows.

''I'll talk to her.'' Turning back to Sam, she offered a reassuring smile before making her way towards the door.

She caught up with Y/N in the hallway, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. "Hey," the Brit said delicately, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Mind if we chat for a moment?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to meet her older teammate's eyes. "Sure." she replied quietly.

She led the younger one to a more secluded area, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on their more personal moment. Millie's face was full of concern as she turned to her. ''Are you okay? What happened there? Didn't Jessie tell you already?''

''She did, she did… a few days ago.'' She answered, her voice still quiet and full of emotion.

''Then, what's wrong? Why'd you leave?''

Y/N pulled her attention from the ground to Millie's eyes. ''It's just… that, like, it seemed to have only hit me now that she's actually going, you know? She's gonna go to Portland, while I'm staying here in fucking London.''

Millie's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Y/N's words, her heart aching for her younger teammate. ''I get it,'' she put her arm around her, ''it's tough knowing that she'll be so far away, especially when you're used to having her here with you every day.''

The striker nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Yeah," she murmured, ''I'm…'' she trailed off.

''You're what, sweetheart?''

''I'm scared.'' Her voice was small, if her teammate wasn't standing so close to her, she probably would have missed it.

''Of what?'' The captain frowned.

''The distance, I don't think I can handle it, Millie.''

Millie's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wrapped her younger friend in a warm embrace. "I understand," she murmured, offering her a comforting squeeze, "it's okay to be scared. It's a big change. For the both of you.''

Y/N nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she struggled to articulate the depth of her fears. "I... I'm scared of losing her," she admitted softly, ''that she'll forget me while she's there.''

"You won't lose her," she reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity. "Jessie loves you, Y/N. And distance won't change that.”

Y/N sniffled, a small hiccup escaping her as she leaned into Millie's embrace, finding solace in her comforting words. "But what if... what if she meets someone else?" She whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

Millie's grip tightened, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's pain. "Jessie loves you," she repeated firmly. "And nothing, and I really mean that, nothing will bloody change that.''

''Thanks, Mills.'' Y/N said, her head resting on her shoulder.

''You're welcome, darling. I'm always here for you. And Erin, and Sam, and Guro, Niamh, Z, all of us.'' She reassured her, wanting her to know that they'll stand by her while she goes through this difficult time.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Millie's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I... I really needed to hear that.”

''Anytime, bubs,'' the defender pecked the top of her head, ''I do think you need to tell Jessie this. It's important for her to know how you feel about all this.''

The younger one nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before pulling away from Millie. "You're right," she agreed, her voice a bit steadier now, ''I'll talk to her about it.''

Millie gave her a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with encouragement. ''Great, she'll understand. It's Jessie, remember?'' She chuckled, trying to get a grin out of her friend.

She was successful as Y/N managed to crack a smile. ''Yeah, it's Jessie,'' she straightened her posture as if ready for battle, ''thanks again, Mills. I really appreciate it.''

The defender nodded, the smile on her own face widening. ''You're very welcome, sweetheart.'' She gave Y/N a small pat on the back.

The next evening, they sat together in their dimly lit living room, trying to watch a movie. Y/N glanced over at Jessie, whose eyes were focused on the television.

"Jessie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ''can I, uh, talk to you about something?''

The Canadian's brows furrowed in concern as she turned towards her partner. ''Of course.''

Y/N took a deep breath. ''First, I am so happy for you that you're going somewhere where they are appreciating your talent, and that you'll be closer to your family and your siblings...'' she began, her words slow and measured. She paused, struggling to meet Jessie's gaze. ''I just don't think that I, uh, am gonna be able to handle the distance.''

Jessie's stomach twisted with unease as she absorbed her words. In the days since it had become official that she would be moving to Portland, they hadn't really discussed how their relationship would proceed. Each of them had spoken about it with their friends, but they both seemed hesitant to broach the topic with each other, perhaps afraid of the uncertainty it might bring.

''I want to, Jessie, I really want to try- I just want you to know how I feel, it's been bothering me.''

The midfielder found it hard to respond as she observed her girlfriend who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. Tears welled up in Jessie's eyes as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I understand," she whispered, her voice strained, "and I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Y/N's own eyes started to water. She leaned into Jessie's touch, her heart breaking at the thought of losing her. ''I love you, J Flem.''

''I love you.'' Jessie reciprocated as she took her partner into her arms, wanting her as close as possible.

''I don't know if I can handle being so far apart, not seeing you or speaking to you every day. International break is already a killer for me, and it's difficult to just go back-and-forth between Portland and London.'' The striker whispered into Jessie's neck, not able to say it any louder.

The Canadian nodded, completely understanding her perspective. ''I know,'' she whispered back, 'I never wanted to put you in this position."

For a moment, they simply held each other in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation became increasingly clear.

''I don't want to hold you back.'' Y/N said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Jessie's shirt.

''You're not holding me back at all.'' Jessie immediately retorted, ruffling her hair.

Y/N weakly chuckled. ''It feels like I am.''

''Please don't think that, babe.''

They were both aware of what was coming, they were simply wasting time as if that would somehow work and they wouldn't have to leave each other.

''I remember when I first joined Chelsea, and I was watching some of you guys' matches, and thinking you were so intimidating,'' Jessie broke the silence.

''but then you were actually one of the first people to say hi to me, and you just looked so different than on the pitch. You were smiling, and trying your best to make me feel welcome.'' She laughed, an affectionate smile playing on her lips.

Y/N grinned as well, while wiping some loose tears away. ''I just remember thinking you looking super awkward.'' She dryly responded.

Jessie gave her a light push. ''Hey!''

''I also thought you were very cute… with your flushed cheeks.'' She quickly added.

The midfielder ironically blushed at the admission.

It became quiet between the two of them again, reminiscing their early days as teammates at Chelsea.

''We'll find our way back to one another, I'm sure of it.'' Jessie nodded.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat at Jessie's words. ''We're still so young, you never know what can happen.''

''And I know what's going to happen. You and I, together- whenever, wherever that may be.'' She reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of their impending separation. "I love you, Jessie." She told her, the pair locking eyes.

"I love you too," Jessie replied, her voice catching in her throat, "more than anything."

jessie fleming requests are always welcome!

[eardefenders]

Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 1 Transcript

00:00-00:30 Intro Music

*Typing Sounds*

0:36 Sherlock: What are you doing?

0:37 John: I’m collating the questions from the fans. Ah-well, d’you know actually they might not be fans. They might just. *pause* I don’t, I don’t know, listen, but, uh, ah, you know not actually, you know-

0:48 Sherlock: -Like you?

0:49 John: What?

0:49 Sherlock: They might not actually like you.

0:51 John: Us. The show. Anything. What do you mean ‘not like me’? Why would they not like me?

0:57 Sherlock: Well…you can come on a little strong…sometimes, I suppose.

1:02 John: In what way?

1:03 Sherlock (voice slightly high): You’re just, rather, keen. (voice normal, reassuring even) Nothing wrong with that of course.

1:07 John (sarcastically): Oh, great, thanks.

1:09 Sherlock: That’s something people add after making a crude observation on another’s character.

1:14 John (warily): What is?

1:14 Sherlock: “Nothing wrong with that of course.”

1:17 John: So you just added it because you thought-

1:19 Sherlock: It would soften the blow.

1:20 John (sarcastic): Lovely. Very kind.

1:23 Sherlock (clearly missing the sarcasm): Quite alright.

1:24 John: Okaaay, we got some Q’s from the L’s, and now its time for us to provide the A’s. That’s, uh, that’s questions from the listeners and for us to provide the answers.

1:36 Sherlock: Yes, I cracked the code, Watson.

1:39 John: Right! So! Beau from California wants to know where they should go when they visit London.

1:44 Sherlock: Er, sorry, uh, I thought this was about crime?

1:47 John: Whaddya mean?

1:48 Sherlock: I thought there would be questions regarding criminal activity?

1:52 John (lightly sarcastic): Oh, right yeah, sorry. Um, there is one here from ‘PsychoMurderer69’ who wants to know if he should stab his next-door neighbor.

1:58 Sherlock (seriously): What’s the length of the blade he’d have access to?

2:00 John: Jesus Christ.

2:00 Sherlock: Does the neighbor show signs of possessing any self-defense skillsets?

2:04 John (interjecting over Sherlock): Alright, no, where should Beau visit in London, please?

2:09 Sherlock: Um, uh, St. Dunstan in the East. Little Venice. Spitalfields. Brick Lane. The Vaults! Neal’s Yard is rather charming as well, I suppose…pleasing colors on display.

2:20 John: Right, great. Colors. See, that wasn’t difficult, was it?

2:23 Sherlock: South Kensington Ice Rink.

2:25 John: Yeah, lovely. I- Sorry, where are you going?

2:26 *Sound of door opening.*

2:27 Sherlock: I just said.

2:27 *Audio Cut - Vaguely outside sounds.*

2:28 John (sounding like he’s struggling to balance): Heeey, folks its, woah, woah, Ja-ah,*sound of skate blades scraping deeply in ice* Jesus, aw, bloody hell, ahahaaah Christ. *sounds of the mic rubbing as he presumably falls down, a sharp intake of pained breath* Ahh.

2:35 Sherlock (sounding at ease): Get up, Watson.

2:36 John: Ah, oh yeah, thanks for the advice. Uh, um, hey folks-*under his breath*ah, God- Sherlock, can get *sounding unsteady on his feet* easily distracted when he’s not w-w-what’d’you call it. Uh. Totally onboard with something. So he wanted to *sounding unsteady again* go ice-ce skating. Uhum *clears throat*, uh there’s a-a rink. Temporary rink open in South Kensington right now so we’re skating- hey-oh, ooo-getting up some speed now. Oh here we go. Ha ha hah! God is this what Canadians feel like? Oy oy! *laughs proudly*

3:10 Sherlock: Very good, Watson. You’ve got the hang of it.

3:11 John: Hahah, yeah well I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not smashing my ribs into the ice, uh, for the time being. So-woah! Shit!- *clears throat* Right! Another question!

3:21 Sherlock: Go for it.

3:22 John: “What are your favorite hobbies?”

3:24 Sherlock: *with relish* CRIME. Deductions. Observations! Intricate studies that focus my mind. Feeding my hyper fixations, which often stem from crime and the desire to understand it.

3:37 John: …Riiiight. Yeah, I think the listener Sherlo8 in Poland, uh, I think they meant more like, um, you know, I don’t know. Golf?

3:48 Sherlock: Golf? *chuckles* I don’t golf. I live in Baker Street.

3:52 John: No, I-I know, but, um. *deep breath* Right, okay. My hobby is-

3:58 Sherlock (interjects): Podcasting.

3:59 John: Well, no. Uh, that’s my job.

4:00 Sherlock (skeptically): Is it now?

4:01 John: My hobbies. Uh…so I like to play football. I like films and tv. Ummm I’m very partial to a board game. Uhhhh… Oh! Ok! So here’s a confession. I have the flight tracker app. I’m not saying I’m a, a plane spotter, but um… I like to, yeah, just check in with that. Y’know? See what’s overhead? Where it’s come from, where it’s going. Picture the kinda people that uh. *sigh* Oh I don’t know, going from swha-Rome to Mexico City, y’know? Th-th-the weary business men and women tucking into their inflight meals, families that have created a whole crate of memories that they’re going to talk about for decades.

4:42 John (dramatically): The lovesick Italian man flying out to see his Mexican sweetheart. His heart bursting with excitement and fear that the stewards who keep complaining about some bloke in Row G, c-

4:49 Sherlock (interjects): Trains.

4:50 John: Hm?

4:51 Sherlock: Trains. I like trains. And, dinosaurs.

4:56 John: Ok. Great! Well, haha! That’s wonderful! We did it, another answer to another question. See, I told you it’s bloody easy- *sound of an ice blade scraping the ice too hard/wrong, a loud hard thump, the mic is rubbing terribly against clothing, sound is muffled* Oh, God!

5:07 *Audio Cut-Vaguely café sounds*

5:09 John (pained): Ahhh *sucks in air through his teeth* Oh that stings. *sounds like he’s holding his face*

5:15 Sherlock: Yep, they’re loaning us their frozen peas.

5:18 John: Oh what, they’ve got frozen peas in this place? Why aren’t they fresh, meals are twenty quid?

5:21 Sherlock: Uh, do you want the frozen peas or not?

5:23 John: Yeah! Yes, please, give’em here. *sound of a bag of frozen peas being shuffled around, John’s voice is muffled* Oh, yeah. Oh hoho, that’s the stuff, baby. Oh yeah. Ahhhhhhhhh. 5:39 Sherlock: Just to confirm,

5:40 John: Uh hunh?

5:40 Sherlock: they are paying for this? People are…paying for this audio?

5:46 John: Yeah, mate. Oh! Ah God! Ooo! Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie, ouchie…

5:49 Sherlock: Understood. Well, people can be rather odd, can’t they? Nothing wrong with that of course.

5:55 John: Uh, d’you mind? I see- I actually know what you’re doing with that ‘nothing wrong with that’ lark. So, right! Next question, ‘How did Archie get his name?’ says May Van der Hayden in New Zealand. Ah, well mate, I didn’t have much say in the matter. *clicks tongue* Um, I bought him as a birthday present for…uhhhh. M-my ex-girlfriend. Um, e-e-ex…yeah, y’know she was. She was-she was the bi- big one. The one I l-lived with and planned t’m-my life. Around. Sort of thing. Um. *clicks tongue* B-bought him for her, she chose Archie. Um. I-I don’t know why? Ha. And then she chose my friend who had a Range Rover Sport. So, yeah, she left me and the dog. *clicks tongue* And I left the dog to help the Ukrainians. Now I’m back. *clicks tongue* Got a dog and a master detective. Uh, lucky me. *awkward chuckle*

6:55 Sherlock: I feel your answers should be more concise.

6:58 John: Yep, thank you for that input. May also asks, Sherlock, seeing as you have handled cases for other countries, have you ever handled any in New Zealand?

7:07 Sherlock: Yes.

7:08 John: Oh! Lip, lip. Now numb. Ah, ah. Can you expand on that please?

7:13 Sherlock: Yes, but you’d have to stop recording or redact it from the podcast.

7:17 John: Aw, what’d be the point of that?

7:19 *Audio Cut- Sounds like they’re on the tube now*

7:23 John: Question here from Chloe Davies in Canada. Hi, Chloe. Sherlock, your hugging machine, is it based on that of Temple Grandin?

7:31 Sherlock: Er, she sent me some early designs, yes. I needed to tweak its pressure loads to clench my shoulder blades.

7:40 John: That’s the way you like it, is it? Hugwise?

7:43 Sherlock: Yes. Any sensation below the diaphragm causes me to stress.

7:47 John: Good to know. Uh, Nick Licher or, er, Licker. Uh…let’s go with Nick Licher. He asks, “Why did Sherlock need your shoelaces?” Yeah, why did you need my shoelaces?

7:58 Sherlock: I was conducting a thorough cleansing of our garments following the proximity to duck poo we had undergone that day in the park. *sucks in air sharply* The shoes contain the most potentially harmful pathogens. I removed the shoelaces for deep cleaning.

8:11 John: Okay.

8:12 Sherlock: Okay? Is that it? For potentially saving you untold hours and days on the toilet?

8: 19 John: How so?

8:20 Sherlock: E.coli, Watson.

8:22 John: Yeah, but on my shoelaces? Mate, I wasn’t going to chew on them. Right, Adrien Kaiser from Minnesota. “John, if you miss an upload should we just assume you and Sherlock have been arrested or are dead?”

8:32 Sherlock: Yes. As assumptions go, those options would be some of the likeliest. Wouldn’t you agree Watson?

8:39 John: No.

8:40 Sherlock: Why not?

8:40 John: Well, I don’t know. Maybe my laptop breaks, maybe we don’t get an adventure that week, I’m ill, your ill, a long list of things that aren’t dead or arrested, Sherlock.

8:50 Sherlock: It was Adrien that said it, not me.

8:52 John: *heavy sigh* Arlo asks, as a Shakespeare fan-him, not me- he asks what my favorite play by him was. Uhhh, um, I love Romeo and Juliet. Bit of um, a sucker for romance, me. *awkward chuckle* Hamlet’s too long, should’ve streamlined that a little. I’m uh going to go Romeo and Juliet. Or Julius Ceasar. Good drama in that one, I think. Kind of can’t understand what they’re saying, but uh I hold my English teachers at school responsible for that one, I mean also why are we reading them? Yeah, they’re meant to be performed, come on. Uh, next question. Soma asks “what’s your favorite tv show?” Uh, I loved ‘Band of Brothers’. Um, but, of course, an ex soldier would say that wouldn’t he. Um, psh, yeah, ‘Band of Brothers’. Or, something light and millennial, like, um, I don’t know. Fraiser? Or, uh, Will and Grace?

9:46 John: Sherlock? Favorite tv show?

9:48 Sherlock: This is us.

9:48 John: Really? I never saw it.

9:49 Sherlock: No, Watson! This is us! Quick!

9:52 John: Oh, bollocks, Oh! The doors are closing! Ow!

9:53 *Audio cut-sounds of a tube station/outside*

9:54 John: Misha asks,

9:56 Sherlock: Mmhm?

9:57 John: “Do you have a sweet tooth?” Well, I can tell you, Misha, that yes, he bloody does! Sherlock?

10:02 Sherlock: Yes, I bloody do. *awkward chuckle, sharp intake of breath* Yet, my diet is highly unpredictable and more often then not tied to my mood

10:08 John: Yeah, I can vouch for that. One minute he’s slurping down some borscht on a whim. Next minute, he’s going ten straight days eating tomato penne pasta.

10:16 *sound of a building door opening*

10:19 *sound of the door closing, presumably they’re in the foyer of 221 Baker Street*

10:19 John: *sigh* Uhhh, just trying to find uh…

10:23 Sherlock: Yet more questions?

10:23 *sounds like they’re removing their coats*

10:25 John: Yep. Uh, ooo, questions, right, last one. Uh, “Doctor Watson, hope this question doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Do you use a cane for your leg injury? I use a cane myself due to joint pain from Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. In fact, one of the canes was hand painted by a family in Ukraine during the war.” Well aw! *delighted chuckle* Aw that’s nice. Um, no I don’t use a cane. Uh, I had some surgery, and I was very kindly along with a few others flown out to Florida for some rehabilitation and then back to the UK for some hydrotherapy courtesy of the Ministry of Defense. Uh. Then they sacked me. So, heh, booooo. *chuckles* So, no. I’m actually cane free. But, uh, I have had moments. Especially climbing these bloody stairs *sounds of him stepping heavily up stairs* where I’ve wanted something like that.

11:15 Sherlock: Finished?

11:16 John (slightly out of breath): Finished.

11:17 *sound of a door opening, presumably 221B’s*

11:17 John: Right, say ‘Bye, Listeners’.

11:19 Sherlock: ‘Bye, Listeners’. You know, you do have a rather silly gait. *pause* Walking style. *sound of a door closing* The cane may have been needed. You do look weird when you stroll. Nothing wrong with that of course.

11:32 John (under his breath): For God’s sake.

11:33-12:03 *audio cut to end theme. It’s Mad Prodigy but a different part not used in the main show with a bit of piano.*

END

[girlactionfigure]

Canadian Union of Public Employees- for crying out loud- What is this? 

How evil do you have to be to put posters up of a raped/slaughtered innocent girl that was dancing at a party, with a broken leg from torture, not to mention half naked and DEAD.

Read the response of the president of CUPE Ontario. Proudly admitting it!

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - bonus part

series masterlist

EPISODE 10 - AN UNEXPECTED PURCHASE

charles stands with max, before their final press conference of the season, when lance approaches them. he greets both of them before turning to charles, "what happened? twitter is losing it's mind."

charles laughs, max also looks visibly confused, "oh mate, the craziest thing happened."

"STARK!" lando is heard shouting before he appears in the camera's view. he crashes into charles, gripping his shoulders, "TONY FUCKING STARK JUST BOUGHT THE TEAM?"

"what?" max questioned, "who bought what team? and what are you doing here, you're supposed to be in the media pen?"

"TONY STARK JUST BOUGHT FERRARI MAX!"

"oh," lance said, "that's why twitter is losing it."

"losing it?" lando questioned, "twitter is in shambles lance. it's not everyday a fucking avenger buys an f1 team."

"correct me if i'm wrong," daniel says, approaching the group, "but didn't tony stark get attacked at the monaco grand prix ages ago?

"you should ask fernando about that," charles told lance. the canadian looked confused before realization hit him, "right, fernando's been driving as long as oscar's been alive."

"we are completely and utterly fucked if tony stark just bought ferrari. you think the red bull dominance was bad, ferrari is about to completely annihilate us," lando complained.

daniel laughed, "well, i'm sure you guys will enjoy fighting for that p3. my tractor and i will enjoy fighting for points."

will buxton sits in front of the camera, "there's not many times when the world of formula one falls silent. in 1994, it fell silent to mourn the death of ayrton senna, then again in 2014 to mourn jules bianchi. zhou's nearly fatal crash and romain's near death experience rendered it silent for a moment before it all went back to normal. but this, this is one of those moments where it all falls silent before exploding. no one saw this coming, that's how unexpected this was. we never thought we'd hear the news that a billionaire had purchased the oldest standing team in formula one. let alone an avenger."

we now see christian horner in front of the camera, “i think i’m more so upset about the fact that ferrari will now be able to steal the championship from us. if there’s one thing i know about tony stark is that he is one competitive son of a bitch. there will be no more half-assed pit stops and strategies from ferrari, that you can count on. and with his daughter as one of the race engineers and a lead engineer, that car is going to be a rocket ship. it just means the rest of us will have up our game.”

toto wolff sits in front of the camera, replacing christian horner, “this is not the first time someone has purchased a formula one team. i do not know why they are acting like this is a first. yes, ferrari will be difficult to beat next year. they will know what they are doing, but we will not give up without a fight. next year will be an interesting year for us all.”

in front of the camera now sits tony stark, his signature blue tinted glasses sit on his face. he smiles at someone off camera, before turning to the producer, "need me to take off the glasses?"

"if you would," the producer answered, "name and title please."

tony looks at the camera, "my name is tony stark and i am the new owner of scuderia ferrari's formula one team. oh! and i am iron man!"

"mr. stark, what led you to purchase the team?"

tony clears his throat, "my mother was italian and a big tifosi, she bled rosso corsa proudly. she never got the opportunity to see michael schumacher lead the team to the greatness he did. i kept up with the team in her memory, and in recent years the team hadn't been performing as well as a fan would've liked. i knew the current drivers, charles and carlos, were championship material. that much was obvious to me when sainz became the only non red bull driver to win a race in the 2023 season. for leclerc, well, there's a reason they call him il predestinato right? he won monza his maiden year with ferrari, that alone put him into the tifosi's good books. speaking of, i knew they were furious and after austin, i knew something had to be done. and if nobody else was going to do it, i was, so i bought the team."

"how confident are you that you can restore ferrari's old glory?"

"i trust my drivers and i trust my team, i think that says enough."

in front of the camera now sits an old face. sebastian vettel smiles brightly at the producer. the last time they had seen him he was in a green shirt and he looked tired, but the time away did him some good. he's happier now and back in ferrari red, back where he had started when the show first began.

"did you ever think you'd be back here?" the producer asked him. sebastian smiled, "honestly, no. i had left this all behind and i told myself i was never going to return to this sport. but when an opportunity like this comes around, you don't say no."

"are you happy with this new position or would prefer to be back in the car?"

"i'm happy with my job now."

“do you think you can help restore ferrari to its old glory?”

“yes,” sebastian quickly answers, “in the past ferrari had been stuck dwelling too much on its history. being stuck in the past for so long leads to no results. it leads to people demanding your first driver leave the team after constantly getting screwed over. we want the championship back in maranello and we will take it back. next year ferrari will put up one hell of a fight.”

“you’ve got a great team mr. vettel.”

“i know, i don’t plan on wasting it.”

charles smiles brightly at the camera, “hello.”

“hi charles,” the producer replies, “do you mind telling us what your first thought were when you heard the team had been bought? how did you find out?”

“i found out on twitter along with everyone else,” charles replied, “my first reaction was to text carlos to see if he knew, he was just as shocked as i was. no one had informed us the team had been bought much less who it had been bought by.”

“and how did you find out the team had been bought by tony stark?”

“when there was an emergency meeting called at maranello right before abu ahabi. carlos and i walked in to the factory and it felt like a different environment, people were excited and whispering to each other. you can imagine our surprise when we walked in to that meeting to see seb sitting with tony stark of all people.”

“i imagine it was a big shock?”

“yes,” charles answered, “mr. stark explained to us what he had done and told us that we should be expecting a whole new team when we arrived back from the final race of the season. it is exciting to know that things are changing.”

"is change a good thing?"

"in this case, it is. things needed to change if ferrari wants to be a championship contender once again. and this will be good for my friendship with carlos."

"are things strained between you two?"

"the truth? yes," charles replied, "it is difficult to go online and see people saying that you don't deserve your seat or that your teammate is better simply because he won a race when you haven't been able to do that this season. it places a sort of- tension? is that the word?" he looks at someone off camera, the person must nod because he turns to face the camera again, "carlos and i are good drivers, there is a reason we are formula one drivers. but the team, it has- it pit us against each other, that was what strained our friendship."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." charles laughs.

carlos looks at someone off camera, nodding at whatever they're saying, before turning to look at the producer, "hello," carlos greeted.

"hello carlos," the producer greeted, "can you tell us what your initial reaction was to learning the team had been bought?"

"i was shocked, i did not think it was possible for someone to buy the team, it's ferrari. but i also felt a bit relieved? i hope maybe things will change and we can have a decent shot at the championship."

"relieved? i don't think i've heard that one yet."

carlos chuckled, "my friendship with charles was strained after this season. i hope that with mr. stark as an owner we are able to put aside our work and our friendship to achieve the goal we have in common. to bring the championship back to ferrari."

"is it difficult to separate work and life off the track?"

"sometimes, yes. after singapore was when our friendship truly hit rock bottom. i think it was difficult for us to accept that only one of us was the 1st driver. everyone knows that it's charles, it has been since 2021, but i think after a while it was difficult for me to accept that. he's- charles is loved by the tifosi, he's loved by everyone because he's charles leclerc. sometimes it is difficult to be his teammate knowing people will always see me as second best."

"i see."

"i love the kid, trust me, i do. i value his friendship very much, but sometimes it is difficult. with stark as the owner, and sebastian as the new team principal, i am hoping things will change. even if charles is still first driver, i hope i am not treated as second best by my own team. sometimes change is good, this time i think it is."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." carlos answers.

will buxton is in front of the camera once again, "it will certainly be entertaining to see what ferrari manage to do next season. the lingering question that remains is, will the starks live up to the hype surrounding this purchase? i guess we'll just have to wait and see."

series taglist: @celesteblack08 @be-your-coffee-pot @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @fulla02 @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @nothaqks @nataliambc @formulaa1d @prongsvault @kaa212 @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! once again, merry christmas to those of you celebrate and a very wonderfully normal day to those of you who don't. either way, my gift to you is this bonus episode for paint the town red, i hope you enjoyed it. it is a pain figuring out how to write netflix style, it's over 1.7k words, although it may not look like it.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[soon-palestine]

To Minister of International Development Ahmed Hussen,

Ahmed,

Our Dear Cousin

We cheered for you when you passed your bar exam. We cheered for you at your beautiful wedding. We cheered for you when you had your first child, your beloved son. We cheered for you when you were elected as a Member of Parliament, and finally a Minister. We were so excited to see you represent Canada on a global stage. The New York Times wrote a historic piece on you titled "In Canada, an Immigration Minister Who Himself is a Refugee" - we could not have been more proud. When you shared your experience with systemic racism but highlighted how Canadian generosity changed your outlook on life through your TEDx talk we were delighted to see you share a piece of yourself with the world. We shared your work all over our social medias, we proudly announced your accolades, we celebrated you with full belief that you would be the change maker Canadians needed and deserved. Sadly, our hopes have been met with a different reality. Once, we were blinded by our admiration of watching you turn nothing into something, but today we are seeing a sobering truth.

Since you have been appointed as a Minister, hundreds of thousands of Muslims have been killed around the world with impunity. Now, we don't fault you for those crimes, but your consistent silence has been deafening. Although your role is to represent the interests of all Canadians while remaining secular, you have proudly shared that your faith and identity has undoubtedly played a part in bringing you to where you are today. With this in mind, we see clearly that you have failed in your role as Minister of International Development. You stood firmly beside Ukrainian people and supported their refugees when they were resisting an oppressive force, but when it comes to Palestine and it's people today, your recent statement lacked the condemnation and passionate stance we have seen you are capable of taking. Your statement minimized the plight and struggle of your Palestinian brothers and sisters, lacked depth and clarity, and did not name today's current situation in the most accurate terms an actively occurring genocide. Although we will never minimize the pain of any civilian or refugee, we are compelled to clearly state the stark difference between your statements for Ukraine and Palestine. With Ukraine you said "Canada stands united with Ukraine and all those around the world, fighting for democracy, human rights, and justice" but when it comes to the struggle of Palestinian people, you fell flat.

Our hearts were broken at your lackluster words when referring to a historically oppressed people. Sadly, we have realized that you won't live up to our expectations and your own promises to be a change- maker and leader. Where is your condemnation of the Israeli occupying forces murdering thousands of children? Where is your condemnation of the genocidal language and unfounded aggression of Benjamin Netanyahu?

As a refugee, how can you ignore the ethnic cleansing Palestinians have suffered for over 75 years? Why have you let your position of power stop you from using clear language to stand with the oppressed people caged in a concentration camp being carpet bombed daily? Children the same age as our own are being blown to shreds or left as traumatized and injured orphans, does your blood not move?

The world is changed through the words of brave people who stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. Decades of unprincipled statements that shy away from addressing the root cause of Gaza and Palestine from politicians like you is the reason why this genocide has continued, claiming the lives and livelihoods of well over 1 million people.

Page two. We write to you this open letter today as your family to simply say -wake up! Open your art and recognize this horrific illegal occupation for what it is, A GENOCIDE. Do not let personal gain, a reputation, and a seat at a colonial nation's table make you complicit to this inhumanity. Announcing Canada's aid commitments without addressing the root cause of this genocide does nothing to recognize the dignity and humanity of Palestinian people. It is a slap in the face to see you announcing humanitarian aid to Palestine when you haven't taken a clear stance against the use of our taxpayer dollars funding weaponry being used to kill innocent Palestinians. We don't need band aid solutions, we need this genocide to be recognized. We need you to speak to the liberation of the indigenous people of Palestine. Your party leader has failed Canada in many ways, the average Canadian's quality of life has tanked according to our shrinking GDP.

There is no re-election in sight for the Liberal party. Is this how you want your legacy to end? With a stain of genocide complicity? You won't have the golden opportunity of standing on the right side of history if you choose not to make yourself clear. We are devastated that today we as a family can no longer cheer for you, you no longer have our respect or admiration. For the sake of saving your legacy and preserving the principles we expect all of our family members to uphold, we ask you to please wake up, take a clear stance, and step down as a Minister to side with the oppressed! You are a humanitarian lawyer, fight for the oppressed! Leave your mark politically to restore our faith on who we know you to be, and hoped you to be. One day your children will see your work as a Minister and they will question you, how will you explain your complacency with a population of indigenous people being massacred?

We leave you with one final note, when we all depart this world we will take nothing with us. Rich or poor, educated or not, we will all be wrapped in a white cloth and placed in the dirt left to answer for all of our worldly actions. So we ask you: Do you fear your maker that you are returning to? We pray and hope you will come to your senses before it's too late. Your role in this government no longer serves you in this life or the next.

#FreePalestine

#EndTheOccupation

#CeasefireNow

[eggyrocks]

has anyone asked for a 35mm un style guide yet? i would like to see it personally. 🥺

no one has but 35mm yn is the ultimate cool girl so let’s get into it

another knitwear lover. lots of sweaters and sweater vests. she buys them handmade off of her favorite fiber artists. always looking for something cool and unique.

loves a sort of minimalist graphic tee. something with a simple design that stays within her preferred color palette.

wears a lot of overalls while filming. likes that there’s lots of pockets and space for her to move. usually buys them secondhand and they have various stains from filming (mostly coffee)

owns many jean jackets. both random ones she finds at the thrift store and higher end ones she seeks out on ebay. loves a dark wash and a cropped cut. has proudly worn a canadian tuxedo.

wears black jeans almost daily. straight or wide legged. occasionaly wears carpenter jeans and likes them for filming. usually end up worn out in the knee. also owns multiple pairs of chef pants when she wants something a little more comfortable.

also a glasses wearer. definitely splurges on them and justifies it by saying she has to wear them every day.

LOVES a baggu. has to carry a lot of stuff and equipment for her projects and classes so she loves how much room they have.

loves a trendy sneaker. because she's always on her feet when filming or walking around campus comfort is a top priority for her.

loves getting her nails done but extensions drive her crazy when it comes to writing and typing and operating film equipment so she has a few sets of reusable press-ons she can take on and off as she pleases.

[stinkysam]

Serge “Frenchie” - Same difference ?

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “I have a silly little thought about fluff with a male reader where Frenchie and him bond because Frenchie is french(from France) and reader is French-canadian(from Quebec)” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : I'm not from Québec so I tried to find words/sentences the reader could use to make it more obvious where the reader is from but it's hard. I can't Google translate it 😔 I hope it's not too much tho but it was fun looking for sayings and shit // FYI the word Nice is also the name of a big city in France. Also I hope my pareil/paris joke lands ._.

You were presented to the rest of the boys shortly after they regained their anti-supes activity.

Butcher never questioned where you came from, so they all thought you were from around here as well, that is, until you got to Frenchie.

You awkwardly sat there on the couch in front of the TV next to Kimiko. Hughie, M.M, Butcher and Annie were gone.

Only you, Kimiko, Frenchie and 3 or 4 dudes hiding some white powder in various objects to export them somewhere were there.

You turned your head back, bored, watching what Frenchie was doing.

You listened closely and you could hear some music playing in French. Was it Koba laD you could hear ?

That made you wonder. Was it a random French song in his playlist ? Was he French ? Or was it both ? The way he spoke was weird too, he had like a small accent… Could he be French ?

You stood up, taking in your surroundings, stopping to let a guy pass, before walking to Frenchie slowly and looking at what his hands were working on. It looked like a bomb but the timer kept doing whatever it wanted.

“Rah, putain, cette merde veut pas marcher !” He complained, throwing his tools on the table in frustration.

You looked at him with a surprised expression, your staring grabbing his attention.

“Quoi ?” He asked, a hint of annoyance still clear in his voice.

“Criss, c'pour ça ‘Frenchie’ ?” You asked, now understanding such a name. He listens to French music and has an accent because he is French.

He looked at you, confused. What do you mean ‘that's why’, of cou- wait, did you just speak French ?

He looked at you, studying you. ‘Criss’ ?

“Why else ?” He replied, hands on his hips, his French accent sounding more noticeable to you suddenly.

“After ‘Mother's Milk’ did you really expect me to question your name ?” You crossed your arms and tilted your head.

“Fair enough, mon ami.” He chuckled. “T’es d'où ?” He asked, his right hip against the desk he was working on.

“Québec. Toi ?”

“Aah.” He nodded slowly, understanding better, scratching his chin before speaking proudly, smiling. “Marseille.”

“Nice.”

“No, no,” He started, making you frown in confusion. “Marseille.” He repeated. “Not Nice. Pas pareil.” He said, shaking his head, seemingly proud of his joke.

You stared at him for a second and spoke.

“Pas Paris ?” You replied, making him frown in confusion, quietly repeating your words before finally understanding your joke.

“Wow, it's… even worse than mine.” He said, slightly amused. His wasn't funny but yours ? He shook his head and grimaced. Down right bad.

“You go low, I go lower ?” You tried, eyes squinted, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I fear that sometimes it's better not to, mon ami. To keep your uh, dignité or whatever.”

“Mh.” You nodded, acting as if you were thinking about it before continuing. “Non. J’préfère going lower, tsé.”

“So the unfunny jokes are a deliberate choice, huh ?” He asked, turning back toward the desk, grabbing a few things and you hummed.

“Mais chu bon public, sinon.” You quickly said as if to reassure him you had a regular humor. “Tu fais-tu une bombe ? C'quoi qui marde ?”

“Je sais pas, ça me casse les couilles.” He replied, going back to his original annoyed mood.

“Can I help ?”

“You know how to make a bomb ? Or program a timer ?”

You shook your head ‘no’ and Frenchie seemed to think for a moment before nodding to himself and waving you to come closer.

“I'll teach you.”

Since that day, you, Frenchie and Kimiko were often found together, if not always.

You both liked learning things. You, how to use a weapon and reload it accordingly. Him, how to speak French Québécois.

He learned Kimiko's sign language that only her and her brother spoke, so there was no way he wouldn't want to learn yours either, even if it was close to his.

You’d teach him sayings and words. He loves hearing you swear, he finds it so funny. Though he makes sure to not laugh at you because he doesn't want your wrath directed toward him.

While you can lose your words in English and stammer, you never seem to lose them in Québécois.

Sometimes he doesn't understand you because you're speaking too fast or using sayings he hasn't learned yet. He just nods as if he's gotten it and looks at Kimiko, who has even less of an idea of what you're saying.

He has trouble speaking French Québécois because it's the same as French but with different rules and sayings and he struggles getting rid of the French rules he's learned. It sounds the same so why is it so different ?

Can't say the same about swear words. He knows them and will use them accordingly.

Everyone hates when you two are not speaking English during important discussions.

“What is he saying ?” Annie asked quietly, looking at you.

The French she learned at school was way too rusty to understand anything, like everyone else's, even though they got a few words, but understanding what you were saying ? Beyond impossible. Your accent was too strong.

“Speak slowly.” Said M.M, hoping it'll be easier. But instead of translating or repeating slowly, you continued.

“Câlisse ! On r’trouve le head-popper là pis on lui pop sa tête à ce mangeux de marde d’Homelander, pis un coup parti ; sa blonde.”

Butcher turned to Frenchie to translate but instead he spoke in French too.

“Mais tu sais où le trouver ?” He asked, not caring that the others didn't understand. Ignoring Butcher's annoyance.

“Super-powered children's orphanage ?” You replied simply.

“Qu'est-ce qui te fait penser qu'il vient de là ?”

“Nothing. Mais c't'un start.” You said as if it was obvious.

“Oi, will one of you stop blabbering nonsense and speak English ?” Butcher intervened, his patience wearing thin, holding his hand between you and Frenchie as if to physically stop you from speaking more.

“He says… we can try finding the head-popper to kill Homelander and Stormfront by checking the super-powered children's orphanage.” Frenchie finally said.

“And what makes him think they're from there ?” Butcher asked.

“As I said, it's a start. A possibility.” You replied, shrugging. “Don't know why they popped Rayner’s head, but they can't be on Homelander’s side.” You added.

“And why not, eh ?” Butcher frowned, turning toward you a bit more, wanting to know your logic.

“Because our head would've popped already, no ?” Frenchie answered, getting what you were thinking.

Everyone stayed silent, maybe you two had a point. But whoever it was who popped Rayner’s head couldn't be on the ‘good’ side either or else, they wouldn't have done it.

You had half a plan found, only the other half was needed.

Traduction - Translation :

Rah, putain, cette merde veut pas marcher. - Rah, fuck, this shit refuses to work.

C'pour ça ‘Frenchie’ ? - That's why ‘Frenchie’ ?

T'es d'où ? - Where are you from ?

Toi ? - You ?

Pas pareil. - Not the same.

Pas Paris. - Not Paris.

Dignité. - Dignity.

Non. J’préfère going lower, tsé. - No, I prefer going lower, you know.

Mais chu bon public, sinon. - But I’m easy to please, though.

Tu fais-tu une bombe ? C'quoi qui marde ? - Are you making a bomb ? What's not working ?

Je sais pas, ça me casse les couilles. - I don't know, it pisses me off.

Câlisse ! On r’trouve le head-popper là pis on lui pop sa tête à ce mangeux de marde d’Homelander, pis un coup parti ; sa blonde. - Fuck ! We find the head-popper then we pop this shit-eater Homelander’s head and his girl’s too while we're at it.

Qu'est-ce qui te fait penser qu'il vient de là ? - What makes you think he comes from there ?

Mais c't'un start. - But it's a start.

[wosowrites]

The Jacket (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Warnings: None

A/n: based off requests from a few people.

Prompt: in which you love to ride motorbikes, and Alexia always steals your leather jacket. One day, after a game, she comes onto the field wearing it proudly.

Alexia was incredibly proud of you, proud of what you were accomplishing as a striker, proud of what kind of person you were. So the reason you kept your relationship private from the public eye wasn’t because she was embarrassed- she had had to reassure you about that once- it was because of how rapidly you were both growing, and how adding the painful, but expected homophobia to that list of things that came with fame, wasn’t a good idea. You had been together for nine months now, and both the spain and the canadian squad knew, as well as the barca squad. Alexia’s family knew too, and proved to be parent figures to you. You had never been close with your parents, them being conservative and homophobic. But the Putellas’ had taken you in, and that was how you liked it.

There were five things in life that you loved to no end. In no specific order, although you told Alexia she was first- you loved your beautiful ballon d’or winning girlfriend, football, indian food, stupid looking dogs and your motorcycle. Your vehicle was your pride and joy, along with a leather jacket that you wore a bit too much. The specific jacket Alexia had decided would go perfectly with todays outfit. Barcelona was playing against Real Madrid, and you left to go meet the team and the bus at 2:00, the game was set to starts at 6:15, meaning a number of things, but mostly that the bus left at 3:00 to be at the stadium at 4:00. You quickly kissed Alexia goodbye, who was still in bed due to her having gone out with childhood friends and only coming back at 1:00 in the morning.

"Im going now baby." You said to her, gently pressing a kiss on her temple. Her eyes fluttered a bit, and you knew not to say anything important to her right now because she was barely awake. "Mhm… will I see you before the game?" She asked, mumbling the words. "Probably not love," you said, brushing her hair out of her face. "Good luck then. I love you." She said gently. "I have an alarm for you for 3:30. Don’t sleep too late." You told her. She nodded sleepily and you pressed your lips to her half open ones gently. She smiled slightly, and then drifted back to sleep.

You arrived at the training ground at 2:30, parking your car and walking towards the group of players waiting outside. Barcelona was perfect weather right now, you loved it, it reminded you of home. You headed towards Lucy and Keira, two of the only other players who were native english speakers. You loved your team, but sometimes miss communication got the best of you. But they all knew that when you stated cursing and yelling in french, a language almost no one else on the team spoke, to either stay away from you or come save whoever you were mad at because shit was about to hit the fence.

You did a handshake with Lucy and the same one with Keira, the three of you having gotten very close over your year and a half at barcelona. You smiled at the rest of the girls who waved and smiled back. "Alexia coming today?" Lucy asked. "Yeah. She’s sleeping though. Long night." You answered. Lucy and Keira shared a look, then looked back at you with a teasing smile. "Wha- No! No not like that! Not like-" You looked around, blushing furiously. "Not like sex…" You whispered to them. "So you guys haven’t had sex?" Keira said rather loudly. You basically pounced on her, covering her mouth with your hand. "Shush!" You squealed.

You had always been a private person, and the girls all liked to embarrass you any way they could. "So you have or you haven’t?" Lucy asked, earning giggles from the other group of girls beside you guys, including Alexia’s close friend, Mapi. "We- of course we’ve done it. We’ve been together for months!" You said to them, earning claps and cheers from the group beside you. "I hate you all!" You yelled at them, a smile on your face betraying your words. Mapi translated to some of the girls who laughed. You threw your hood over your head, your cheeks still bright red. "Ahh, we’re just teasing! We love you." Mapi said, coming over close to you and throwing her arm over your shoulder, looking at you and laughing.

You arrived at Johan Cruyff stadium on time, the entirety of the team pooling out of the bus and into the grounds. You examined the pitch, talked with the group and then went inside to go over the game plan. You changed into your training jersey and shorts, put on your socks and cleats, tied your hair and did your pre game routine which consisted of listening to your hype playlist and walking through the stands before the fans got there. You did a full circle of the stadium in the top row by yourself and then came back down. Only 15 minutes later, music started playing loudly, and 15 minutes after that, fans started arriving.

The team walked out onto the field, Lucy upholding her tradition of going out last, and when you ran out because you were a bit slow, you ran out with Lucy, her grabbing your hand. You walked towards the right side of the field where two groups were doing a rondo to warm up. But as always, since Alexia got injured, you found her in the crowd and nodded at her. She nodded back and you smiled at her softly. It was your thing. You wished you could blow her a kiss instead, but you weren’t public.

Then, sooner than you knew it, the game had started.

1-0 win, goal by you. A crazy headed that you had dived to get, ending up in the back of the net. It was perfect, the crowd went wild, your team was ecstatic, and Alexia was looking at you with so much pride you thought your heart would burst.

"That was quite the goal," Alexia said to you, walking up to you, and hugging you in the least 'I’m in love with you' way possible. You smiled at her as you pulled away, but you were quickly distracted by her outfit. Blue jeans, a white top, and your leather jacket. "Ale…" you started saying, smirking at her. "That’s my jacket." You said. "Yes it is. I thought it looked good." She said, smirking back. "It looks very good. But I wear that jacket all the time. And there are people taking pictures of us… right now." You said, finding a camera and pointing at it. " Everyone’s gonna know. The fans- they’re…" You started saying. "Stalkers?" She joked and you barked of laughter. "No! Well… yes. But they’re intuition is good. They’ll just know." You said. "Does it matter? I mean I know it’s not what we wanted by I want to be with you and have everyone know you’re mine. The whole world. Fuck what they say, mi amor." Alexia said. "Really?" You said. "Yeah. But let them figure it out first. For… what’s the expression you always say?" She asked. "For shits and giggles." You smiled. "Yes. I dont underhand it. But for that."

You were scrolling on your phone, it was a day after the game and your head head was on Alexia’s lap as she looked through her own phone. You were scrolling through your for you page on tik tok when you saw a video. It was a video of you that Ingrid had taken as you walked down the street wearing black jeans, a white cropped tank top and the leather jacket. Following that came a few pictures of you wearing the jacket. Then, was a video a fan had taken of you and Alexia talking on the field, followed by pictures from Barca’s instagram of Alexia on the pitch. The caption read: sharing clothes are they now? I think they’re dating.

All the comments were agreeing, and just to be a little cocky, you liked the video. "Hey, Ale. Look at this." You said.

She watched the video and when she was done, she smiled down at you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "They know." She said.

"They know."