#sid looking short as hell

[kirill-kaprizovs-curls]

Sid looks like he brought bodyguards to the children’s hospital 😂

[littlexdeaths]

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: slight suggestiveness on eddie’s part, but also lots of tooth rotting fluff <3

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

a/n: this takes place somewhere after the car troubles saga, but before the fake dating saga. based on this lovely request, i hope you like it my love! i appreciate your patience xx

“dude, you sound like fucking shit.”

you hear sid’s voice ring out loudly from the dining room.

you sit up, your inherent nosiness now quickly outweighing any desire to pay attention to the movie flashing across the television. so you carefully get up from the sofa and you peek your head around the corner into the dining room.

sid has his back to you, watching out the window while he continues to talk on the phone. wednesday nights were always slotted for band practice, so you knew it could be one of four people that he was talking to. you just hoped it wasn’t a certain curly haired lead guitarist on the other end.

wednesdays had quickly become your days together as well, once sid fell asleep that is.

your brother snorts but just shakes his head in response to whatever the person on the other line just said.

“nah, don’t worry about it, ed. i’ll see what the other guys wanna do, no need to infect the rest of us with your crap.” he laughs and your heart sinks a little.

so eddie wasn’t coming tonight.

while you feel a little disappointed, an idea suddenly comes to you. and your mind is already made up before sid can even finish hanging up the phone. you grab your keys and purse and hurry past him to the front door.

“hey! where the hell are you going in such a rush?” your brother calls while you slip on your sneakers.

“robin’s having really bad cramps, gotta get her some stuff.”

you’re a little shocked with how easily the lies and excuses come to you now, but you know it’s better than dealing with the reality of sid knowing.

“okay— too much info!” he says with a whistle before he picks the phone back up to call jeff.

you make it to the bradley’s big buy without any issues, besides a disapproving look from hopper as you flew past him on main street. you’re just grateful he was feeling nice today and didn’t pull you over.

as you push the squeaky cart through the aisles you begin to pile saltines, pedialyte and chicken noodle soup into the basket. paying extra mind to grab a couple packages of reese’s pieces and twizzlers on your way past the register.

two of his favorites.

during your short drive to forest hills trailer park, you can’t help the nerves from rumbling in your belly. would he be upset that you showed up unannounced? you didn’t think that was likely, but things were still so new between you. and you really don’t want to mess anything up.

but the look of delighted surprise that crosses his features when he opens the door has any lingering worries dissolving almost instantly. while he’s dressed in a pair of checkered pajama pants and a ratty old band tee— he still manages to take your breath away.

“surprise!” you mumble sheepishly.

“you know,” eddie grins, the tip of his finger tapping against his chin, “i don’t think i ordered a nurse?”

his small chuckle quickly morphs into a hacking cough, the male resting his body further against the doorframe. but the way he’s leaning against it is very reminiscent of that night your car broke down, the night that changed everything. only this time the sweat on his brow is from a fever and not the raging humidity.

“well lucky for you, i do house calls,” you tease, lightly brushing past him to enter the trailer.

eddie had set up camp in the living room, if the amount of tissues strewn about the floor were anything to go by.

“uh… sorry ‘bout the mess,” his already pink cheeks flush a shade darker while he quickly tries to tidy up. “—wasn’t expecting company.”

you can tell by his wobbly stance that he shouldn’t be up and moving around at all right now, so when he bends down again to grab more discarded tissues— you stop him.

“hey, don’t worry about that now, okay?” you reassure him, slipping your hand around his waist to guide him back towards his bedroom.

eddie all but deflates into your side, his mouth lifting into another grin when you reach the edge of his unmade bed.

“i see what’s going on here…” he hums, “trying to get me in bed before we’ve even been on a proper date.”

one of his palms slaps over his chest in mock horror as he flops down onto his mattress in the most dramatic, yet completely eddie-like manner imaginable.

“what kind of guy do you think i am, sweetheart?”

you roll your eyes fondly when he sits back up, eyebrows quirking up suggestively beneath his bangs.

“oh shame on me, we must keep that precious virtue of yours intact.” you giggle, letting him wrap his arm around your waist while he tucks you into the space between his thighs.

you can feel the overwhelming warmth radiating through the thin cotton of his shirt, and the beads of sweat beginning to trickle down his neck when you wrap your arms around him.

“please tell me you’ve been taking tylenol or something for this fever, eds.”

concern laces your tone, but you already know the answer by the way he peeks up at you under his lashes in feigned innocence.

“—uh… no.”

you let out a sigh before untangling yourself from him and he almost manages to follow you out of his room. but you are quick to turn on your heel and press a firm hand to his chest.

“nuh uh, mister. you need to lay down,” you scold, despite the pout adorning his features. “and that’s an order.”

eddie utters a soft, so bossy under his breath before he retreats back to his bed. you’re quick to rummage through the medicine cabinet in his bathroom until you find what you’re looking for. coming back to his room with a full glass of water and two tylenol in tow.

he tosses the pills back without any further argument, much to your relief. but the male immediately reaches for you again and you unwillingly slip through his fingers.

“nooo— where are you going now?” he all but whines.

you merely respond with a giggle as you slip out of his room, padding down the hall towards your bag of goodies you left near the front door. you snatch out the candy and pedialyte, and graciously clean up the rest of his tissues before making your way back towards his room.

eddie perks up at the sight of you, immediately pulling back the bedsheets and welcoming you in with open arms. you set your goodies down on his nightstand before sliding in next to him, the male completely enveloping you in his embrace.

“thank you.” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and truly, he means it.

eddie has spent most of his life fending for himself, so he’s not used to someone wanting to dote on him like this. but the fact that you were so willing to drop everything to come here and check on him — spoke volumes.

you carefully tilt your head up to glance at him, his soft chestnut hues meeting yours as he tucks comfortably into his side.

“anytime, eds.”

and you mean it too.

you spend the better part of the evening nursing him back to health, as much he’ll let you anyway. while eddie is beyond grateful that you’re willing to care for him like this, he’s just happy to be in your presence.

and he can’t deny he’s become quite attached to you in the short time you’d started seeing each other. so much so that when you finally get up to make him some dinner he all but clings to your side, despite your protests for him to go rest.

eddie is nothing if not stubborn, so he follows you into the small kitchen. keeping his arms wrapped securely around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder while you heat up a can of campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

but as much as he's enjoying the coddling in his current state, he draws the line at your attempts to spoon-feed him. it only leads to him playfully nipping at your fingers until he finally manages to sneak the utensil from your grasp.

with his belly fully and his fever beginning to break the two of you make your way back to his bedroom. slipping comfortably beneath the covers while you flip through the tv stations until you’ve settled on some old the price is right reruns.

eddie falls asleep not even five minutes after his head hits the pillow, soft snores tumbling from his plump lips. the utter picture of content. so you can’t help when your gaze quickly shifts from bob barker and the spinning wheel to his sleeping features.

you admire the way his long lashes fan across his freckled cheeks and the little scar on the slope of his nose that you’ve never noticed before. the way his lips are slightly chapped, but still kissable all the same. and when you lean up to press a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, he doesn’t even stir.

but as you snuggle yourself into his chest you miss the way his lips quirk up in a half smile, the male ultimately catching you in the act. eddie decides to say nothing as your breathing begins to slow and you drift off to sound of his steady heartbeat in your ears.

and later, when wayne returns home from work that evening to find you both entangled and sleeping soundly in his nephew’s bed, he just quietly shuts the door behind him with a knowing grin on his face.

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @devil-in-hiding @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can @guiltyasquinn

let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!

[spamsmcgee]

Platforms? In this economy?

You’re shorter than Yuki, everyone thinks you’re taller though.

Yuki x alt!Fem!reader

“I told you to wear flats,”

Yuki held your hand as the two of you made your way into the Hard Rock stadium, surrounded by media personnel, photographers and management. The two of you kept your voices down as you bickered over fashion choices.

“We’re wearing the same shirt,” you said, giving a light tug to the collar of your hot pink and purple top, worn over an otherwise all black number, “I’m wearing my boots.”

“It’s too hot for that goth sh-“ Yuki cut himself off to smile and wave at a nearby photographer.

“My outfit was cute, screw you.”

Yuki’s hand moved to your lower back as he guided you through the venue, “I got Michael to bring your sandals,” he waved towards a different photographer, “your outfits are always cute baby.”

As if on cue, Michael appeared beside the two of you, ugly croc sandals in hand.

“I hate both of you.”

Between Ferrari and RedBull’s hospitality, you pulled Yuki to a stop, planting your hand on his shoulder and reaching to start untying your boots. Yuki set a hand on your waist to help you keep balanced.

“Everything okay?”

Charles and Carlos peaked out from the little patio of the Ferrari building, watching as you complained.

“No” you dropped the first platform boot to the ground as Michael handed you one of your sandals.

The top of your head came to Yuki’s cheek once you dropped to the croc clad foot and started unlacing the other boot.

“What the hell is this?”

“Shut up Sid” you shot a look at Max as he returned the glare.

“She’s short!” Logan leaned out over the railing at Williams.

“Very nice to see you all” You handed your boots to Michael.

Finally standing on your own two feet, much closer to the ground, you looked up at an entirely too amused Yuki.

Max stuck his hand out over your head, “so he wasn’t lying”

“Yeah, I knew she wore the boots,” Charles took a sip from his redbull, “but I didn’t think they were that tall?”

Carlos hopped the railing to stand directly in front of you, crouched to stand eye to eye, before looking up at Yuki.

“Oh wow, Yuki” he said, laughing, “you look good from this angle”

“Thank you” Yuki beamed towards Carlos as he stood back up.

“Losers, all of you”

Absolutely no idea how to end it, oops.

[slasherbvnnie]

Could you possibly do a jealous Stu x reader? Maybe where Stu and Tatum are still together, but Stu is actually cheating on her with reader. And Randy gets a little flirty and touchy with reader, unknowing that reader is taken by Stu? Im fine with anything else for the plot- sorry if this isn’t the best, I’m still new to requesting!

I hope this is to your liking, I’m waiting on my ride to go out tonight and wrote this in like 6 minutes… if you want a continuation feel free to ask! Dirty Little Secret

A short and angered breath had left your lips as you stared to your left side, trying to block out any of the noise Randy was currently making in your direction. You blocked out the words he was saying to the best of your ability, you were doing a great job at it up until you felt his hand on your shoulder. Your eyes stared at his hand before moving to his face, his voice suddenly coming in clearly.

“Come on, just one date. I promise it will be well worth your time, I’ll take you to that restaurant you’ve been mentioning,” he offered as you laughed a little. “No offense Randy but we’re just friends. If i saw you as more I would have accepted the other hundreds of times you offered to take me out,” you said as he placed his other hand onto your waist, boxing you into the closest wall.

You frowned as you looked up at him, moving your hand from the strap of your backpack to his hand on your waist, pushing it off of you before he quickly moved it back. “One little date won’t hurt, who knows, maybe you’ll change your mind. And let’s face it, the perks of free rentals with dating me will be well worth it,” he joked slightly, moving closer as you put your hands onto his shoulders. You were about to push him off before a stronger hand grabbed his neck and flung him off of you.

“In your dreams, Meeks. Stay off of her before I rip those hands of yours off. I may not be the killer but I will sure as hell become one if you lay another finger on her,” you heard the familiar voice threaten, looking up to see Stu. It was rare to see Stu as angry as he was now, even when he was mad he usually played it off well, but this time his face was flushed with anger and you could see the veins in his forehead threatening to pop as he stared Randy down.

“Okay, okay. It’s not like shes Tate or anything,” he said, which only angered Stu more as he walked closer to Randy, pushing his index finger against his chest. “You’re right, touch either of them and you’re dead. Think about touching them, dead. If i so much as catch you breathing next to them again, dead. Don’t even make me warn Billy about you being around Sid, you’ll be a deadman as soon as he picks up his phone.” Stu said in a monotone voice, scaring both you and Randy since he was always so lively. Once Randy got the message and walked away, Stu went to your side and placed a hand on your cheek.

“You okay?” He questioned as you nodded, “yeah, you’re really scary when you’re angry, you know,” you said with a nervous laugh. “I’m not angry, well, a little. I’m jealous he can touch you like that in public,” he admitted as you scoffed slightly and brushed his hand away. “Well i’ve already told you how you can fix that,” you said as you began to walk away from him, Stu quickly followed behind and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You said it yourself too that you didn’t want Tate or Sid to be mad at you if I broke up with her just for you. Besides, I know how turned on you get knowing we might get caught,” he said as he pulled away from you, making you flash him a little smile.

“Are your parents home for the night?” You asked as he smirked, “business trips,” “Tate?” “At Sidney’s, projects due tomorrow for chem,” he said as you held your hand out to him, gladly accepting your hand into his. “Let’s head to yours then,” you hummed. “Only if you promise I get to send Meeks some pictures of what he’s missing out on.”

[lostloveletters]

And I Lay Right Down in My Favorite Place (Bill "Hoosier" Smith x Reader)

Summary:  The Australian heat has nothing on how you feel when you finally get Hoosier to yourself.

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. Title comes from the song I Wanna Be Your Dog. This is based on the fictionalized characters in the miniseries and not the real individuals. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Light period-typical misogyny. Obviously some historical inaccuracies. Sexually explicit content including oral sex (f. receiving) and some femdom elements. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Your shadow cast abnormally long over Hoosier, his eyes scrunched shut as he slept in the rapidly setting Australian sun, curled up on his cot like a cat on a windowsill. If he had actually moved from that spot in the past few days, you would have felt bad waking him up. Except he hadn’t unless absolutely necessary, and so you attempted to disguise your selfish request as simple altruism.

“Hoosier, c’mon, we’re in Melbourne—civilization! You can’t just sleep through it. At least spend one night out so you don’t regret it.” He was unresponsive. “Please, for me?”

He snickered. “Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I don’t have a pass.”

“I swiped an extra one. Look, everyone else ran off with some girl, and I have no one to go to bars with me tonight,” you said, stretching the truth a bit. Chuckler promised he’d look out for you in whatever little local dives you ended up in. For the most part, he had, but after a few drinks, he’d get distracted by a local girl, and you’d have to fend off equally drunk suitors without him as reliable backup.

“Fuck, alright,” he grumbled, pushing himself up from his cot, blanket still wrapped securely around his shoulders.

You shoved the dubiously acquired pass into his hand. “I just need to change, and—”

“Change?”

He stood up, the two of you staring each other down in an unspoken stand-off, waiting to see who would fold first.

“I bought a dress.”

“Don’t take too long or I’m going back to sleep.”

You ran to your cot, grabbing a paper shopping bag you’d shoved beneath it. A local boutique’s logo printed on the front, announcing your purchase of a flowing wrap dress that you couldn’t take your eyes off of in the shop. It didn’t take much convincing for you to buy it, and the unwavering confidence you felt while trying it on in the dressing room made a swift return when you ran into one of the locker rooms in the cricket stadium, changing in one of the stalls.

The plunging neckline had especially caught your attention, far from the conservative attire you’d usually wear as a Marine—though there had been strong opinions among some of the men toward your wearing pants, until Hoosier had asked them how the hell you were supposed to trek through the dense jungles in a skirt, which promptly shut most of them up. 

Still, you bought the dress knowing full well it was an impractical, expensive purchase that wouldn’t make it out of Australia with you. The slip that you wore beneath it was a buttery soft satin that you never wanted to take off, nothing short of heavenly against your skin. You didn’t have much in the way of makeup or perfume, so you’d chosen a dress and some heels that could do most of the heavy lifting for you.

Your name echoed through the empty locker room, Hoosier calling out for you as his boots smacked against the tile floor. “Hey, you in here?”

“In the stall!” you shouted back.

The tap ran along with the sound of water splashing. “You sure there’s no one else around to go with you?”

“Leckie’s playing house with some girl from the trolley the other night, Sid’s with his girl Gwen, Chuckler’s god knows where, and Runner’s got a date with the shop assistant at the boutique I bought this from, so no,” you said, securely tying the wrap dress in place. “Look, if it’s that much of a bother, you can stay.” You shuffled out of the stall, your uniform folded and shoved in the shopping bag the dress had been in. 

Hoosier whistled lowly when he saw you, quickly shaking his head. “Not while you’re wearing that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re showing about as much tit as the girls in those magazines.”

You straightened your back, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror above the sink. “That’s why I bought it.”

“It’s sure as hell working on me.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to him.

He folded his arms over his chest. “What made you think it wouldn’t?”

“You’ve seen me covered in mud and blood—I think I’ve even thrown up on you before.”

He grinned. “Gives you character.”

“So I spent my hard-earned money on this new dress for nothing?”

“Not for nothing. I wouldn't mind seeing how it looks coming off you.”

“Maybe somewhere nicer than a locker room?” you proposed.

“Now you’re gonna make me spend my hard-earned money just because you wanna fuck somewhere fancy?”

“I wanna fuck somewhere with a real bed, and privacy.”

“Sounds like you already have a place in mind.”

“I might," you said, taking his hand in your free one and leading him out of the cricket stadium.

Running down the streets of Melbourne with Hoosier sent a rush through you. Your dress flowing in the cool night breeze, the hem flirting around your thighs, each gust of wind threatening to give a peak of what lay beneath to passersby. For the first time in months, you felt like a woman, anticipation building in your gut as Hoosier kept his hand firmly around yours, bringing you closer to the night you’d been hoping for. The fact that it’d be with him was icing on the cake. Even though you were no longer relentlessly hounded for your answer of which member of H Company you would fuck if you absolutely had to—from day one, you’d pick Hoosier.

He really hadn’t been exaggerating about the dress, because when the two of you ran into Chuckler smoking outside of a bar, at least three whiskeys into his nightcap, he didn’t even recognize you. Instead, he shot a wink your way and congratulated Hoosier for ‘getting some.’ He had shouted something else your way when you and Hoosier were halfway up the street, nearing the hotel you’d seen on your shopping trip.

A tall, swanky building with valets outside, you tried not to gawk at the giant chandelier in the lobby, surely worth more than you’d make in your lifetime. You and Hoosier caught some odd glances from the people milling about, but some went out of their way to thank him. You bristled at the perceived slight until you remembered what you were wearing, your uniform hidden in the shopping bag in your hand.

A well-put together man stood behind the front desk, not bothering to pay either of you any mind until Hoosier cleared his throat.

“Good evening, sir. I’d like to book a room for one night for, uh, Lewis Juergens and guest.” 

You nudged Hoosier with your elbow.

The manager looked you and Hoosier over with his lips pursed, as if he were resisting the urge to sneer. “We don’t tend to allow unmarried couples to share a room.”

You put on a charming smile and the best imitation of an Australian accent you could muster. “Just married. We’re honeymooning while we can. Gotta keep this one in line before I hand him back to the Marines.”

“I see,” he said, neither fully convinced by your story nor concerned enough to argue. “Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Juergens for one night, then?”

“That’s right,” Hoosier said. “Honey, why don’t you wait up for me?”

You kissed him, perhaps a bit more passionately than was acceptable in such an upscale establishment, but the desire in his eyes when you pulled away to wander over to the elevator was worth it.

He grinned as he walked over to you less than a minute later, holding up the room key. “Wait ‘til Chuckler finds out he’s married.”

“To a nice Australian girl to boot,” you said, pushing the elevator button.

“Nice girls don’t kiss like that.”

“Oops.”

When the doors opened, Hoosier told the operator to bring you to the seventh floor. You caught a glimpse of the room number engraved on the key’s tag. As soon as the doors opened, you rushed down the ornate hallway in search of the room. He seemed to take his sweet time walking over, amused by the scowl on your face.

"You know, I think I might've forgotten something downstairs—"

"Hoosier, I swear to god."

He snickered as he unlocked the door, ushering you inside.

You pushed Hoosier against the door when he locked it behind him, kissing him with a ferocity that shocked him for a moment before he came to his senses. The kiss was overtaken by the desperate clashing of teeth and tongue, a long repressed primal urge rearing its ugly head as you pressed yourself against him. Before that night, you’d considered the situation you found yourself in little more than a foolish yet pleasant fantasy, doubting he wanted you as much as you wanted him. His vulgar quips toward you had blended with the others you’d gotten used to, learned to take in stride. They were all talk, anyway. The way his hands kneaded your ass through the flimsy material of your dress proved otherwise.

“How much did you spend on this?” he asked, voice husky with desire.

You threw the shopping bag aside, paying no mind to how it fell over on its side. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Five bucks?”

“Higher.”

“Ten?”

“Higher.”

“Shit, I better make this worth your while, then.”

“You will,” you said, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it ever so slightly.

Your hand half-wrapped around his neck, you pressed your thumb against the base of his throat while you sucked and bit on a patch of skin just beneath his collarbone. No one would notice unless they really looked for it, like you would over the next few days, your eyes inevitably drifting to where you staked your claim on him. 

He leaned against the door, breathing heavily while you left your mark on his skin, slightly tanned by days in the relentless tropical sun. Your hand drifted up to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing his lower lip. He took the digit in his mouth, and you gasped when he began sucking on it. 

“You’ve got everyone else fooled, you know that?” you murmured, softly kissing the corner of his lips. “Sleeping all day like you’re above it all, when you’re a bigger slut than the rest of them.” You palmed him through his pants, his hard cock straining against the fabric, earning a muffled moan from him. 

When he reached for your hips, you pulled your thumb from his mouth and grabbed his wrists just as quickly, pinning them on either side of him.

“If you want me, you gotta work for it.”

He groaned. “Jesus, you’re mean.”

“I know, but I think you like that,” you said. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered without hesitation.

You released his wrists from your grasp, kicking off your heels as you walked back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Then show me how much you want me.”

He sank to his knees before you without hesitation. He would have looked almost pious if his hands were clasped together instead of pulling your panties and stockings down to your ankles, his tongue darting out from between his lips as you spread your legs. He’d seen you before, though, not this intimately, but close enough. Privacy was a scarce resource, and so modesty packed its bags along with it. You’d conquered shame on those islands, perhaps the first woman to do so. Maybe that could be included in Lady Marines’ recruiting materials—put the church out of business, be naked and unashamed.

With a frustrated groan, you pulled off the wrap dress, hearing it tear as you were too impatient to untie it properly. The soft, patterned fabric pooled around Hoosier’s knees. He pushed your slip up around your hips, his calloused fingers drifting down between your opened legs. His rough touch electrified you, your legs seizing a bit when he started rubbing your clit with the pads of his fingers, watching intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

His hands gripped your thighs as he ducked his head between your legs, slowly dragging his tongue up your leaking slit until his lips reached your clit, sucking it while he slipped his fingers inside you. Leaning back on the bed, comforter balled up in your hands, your arms strained to support you as he ate you out, lust clouding your reason, your climax just achingly out of reach, like he was doing it on purpose.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you ordered through gritted teeth, your hand buried in his hair, keeping his face pressed against your pussy. His teeth grazed your clit, and your pussy clenched around his fingers when he flicked his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your back arched, pleasure cracking down your spine like a whip as you came with a moan that echoed in your ears. “Hoosier—Bill—oh my god—” His tongue lapped up your wetness as you rode out your orgasm on his face.

He moved back from between your legs, hair unkempt and face flushed, his mouth and chin glistening in the low light.

“I wish I had a camera,” you sighed, affectionately running your fingers through his messy hair. “You look perfect.”

“Yeah?” he asked, almost dazed.

You nodded. “Like a wet dream.”

He moved to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“Don’t,” you said, a little harsher than you intended. “I wanna see how I taste.”

When he stood up, you took his face in your hands, kissing him deeply, taking in the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips. The sensation sent an irrational, possessive urge through you, greedy for more of him, as much as he’d give you—and only you. 

“You got a condom?” you asked breathlessly against his mouth.

“If I don’t, I’m gonna kill somebody,” he grumbled, searching his pockets for one. 

Salvation in his front shirt pocket, he held one up triumphantly. 

With shaky hands, you unbuttoned his shirt, frustrated by how much he was wearing compared to you—for once. Usually you were the one overdressed, sneaking glances of envy and admiration whenever he was shirtless. He had never caught you, or at least he never let on that he had. You reveled at finally having your hands on him the way you wanted, the way that’d make you curl your hands into fists, digging your broken fingernails into your palms to distract from how frustratingly out of reach he was on those islands.

Your slip came off over your head much easier than the dress, and soon a pile of discarded clothes was kicked to the wayside as he joined you on the bed. 

You stroked his cock, his hips jerking at your touch. 

“It’s been a while,” he offered as an explanation for how his body reacted. As if he needed to, as if you weren’t on the verge of pouncing on him at that very moment.

“I don’t care. I want you inside me, Hoosier. I wanna feel you when you come.”

He groaned, chewing on his bottom lip. “Oh fuck.”

You kissed him, practically swallowing the groan that emerged from his throat when he plunged his cock inside you, your cunt clenching around him as he filled you. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, his gaze locked on your eyes as you struggled to keep them open with each thrust in your pliant pussy, taking him deeper with each stroke. 

“Fuck—I’m close,” he barely managed to force out, his cock twitching as he neared orgasm.

“I got you, baby,” you whispered, your lips soft against the shell of his ear as his thrusts slowed and became erratic as he bottomed out inside you. 

He gave you a sloppy kiss, taking a few moments to catch his breath before pulling out of you. “Fuck,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

You curled up beneath the covers as he got up to discard the used condom.

“Jesus Christ, they’re gonna think someone tried to decapitate me,” he said from the bathroom.

“Sorry!”

“Don’t be. Maybe I can claim some rare jungle illness and get a few extra days off.”

You scoffed, smiling when he got into bed next to you, pulling you against him. “Yeah, you and every other Marine running around Melbourne.”

“Hotel room was a good call,” he said softly, nuzzling his nose against the crown of your head. “Fuck, I’m gonna be dreaming about this on the next shithole island they dump us on.” He was quiet for a moment. “Never thought that’d get me going, you bossing me around and all.”

“Something about you brought that out,” you said. “I don’t know, I feel like I’d go crazy if another woman touched you.”

“I’ll make sure to warn ‘em.”

You barked out a laugh, hiding your face in the crook of his neck before resting your head on his shoulder. “How about you? Most guys think eating out is degrading.”

“Because they’re fucking idiots.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

The two of you talked well into the night before falling asleep, only to be awoken at ten in the morning by a phone call from the front desk, informing you that if you didn’t check out within the hour, you’d be charged extra.

“Can we put it on Chuckler’s tab?” Hoosier grumbled, reluctantly getting out of bed.

“I wish,” you said, hastily freshening up in the bathroom.

“What’re you gonna do with that dress?” he asked. “Can’t take it with you.”

You shrugged, glancing at the torn, wrinkled garment. “I guess I’ll just leave it here.”

And you did, leaving it behind as you slipped out of the hotel room first. Wearing your uniform, far less comfortable than what you’d been wearing the day before, would inevitably draw unwanted attention to you and Hoosier if you left together, especially if you were seen by any number of fellow Marines who were prone to running their mouths. That, or the same haughty manager could have been behind the front desk again.

By the time Hoosier caught up with you at the cricket stadium, Chuckler was already there, sitting on your cot with you as he told you all about his escapades the night before. His attention quickly shifted to Hoosier.

“Hey, who was that cute broad you were with the other night? The one in the slinky dress?” Chuckler asked as he pulled on his boots. “Was she any good?”

Hoosier glanced at you, a smile tugging on his lips. “She was a real nympho. Tore off her dress and everything.” Your eyes widened when he held up a scrap of fabric clearly ripped from your now discarded dress. Chuckler grabbed for it, but Hoosier kept it just out of reach. “Woulda thought she was in heat or something”

You kicked his boot. 

He snickered. 

Chuckler didn’t notice the silent exchange, instead huffing out, “Man, I gotta get me a girl like that.”

“Gonna have to look somewhere else,” Hoosier said, eyes on you as he pocketed the torn piece of your dress. “This one’s mine.”

[doc-pickles]

sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch. 3)

series masterlist

summary: sid and annie have the fight that ends it all

warnings: general angst, swearing

author’s note: hi friends! i'm so happy you're all loving this series! this is a flashback to the fight sid and annie have that ends their relationship, so this happens eight years in the past. it's short but it's important to the plot! enjoy!

xoxo

nina

Sidney had just come home from a gruelling game against the Flyers where he’d taken one too many hits and they’d lost in OT. All he wanted was to crawl into bed and hold Annie, forgetting about the shitty day he’d had.

But when he unlocked the door to their house he found Annie sitting in the living room, tears staining her face as she stared blankly ahead. Sid dropped his bag and rushed over to her, kneeling in front of Annie and cupping her face in his hands.

“Annie?,” Sid whispered as he wiped at her cheeks. She blinked and met his eyes, her green ones brimmed with unshed tears. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

“Do you love me?”

“More than anything,” Sidney replied quickly, scanning her face for any sign as to what was going on. “Baby-”

“I can’t do this anymore Sid,” Annie breathed out, eyes shutting as she said the words. “I… You’re never home and when you are all you’re focused on is hockey. I just can’t be second place anymore.”

Sidney looked over Annie’s face for any signs that she was bluffing but only found hurt and sadness there, “Baby where is this coming from? How long have you felt like this?”

Annie stood, shaking her head as she walked away from him, “Forever Sid! I’m never your first thought. I, god, I want to spend my life with you and you can’t even consider me! You’re never here and when you are all you can think about is hockey. Will I ever come before that?”

Sid sighed, running his hands down his face, “Honey, I just do-”

“Why the hell am I still here if you can’t make me a priority Sidney?”

There’s a crisp in the room as Annie’s words sink in. Sidney looks over at her, the determined look on her face despite her wet cheeks. That was his Annie, always overpowering her weaknesses to protect herself.

“Baby I’m trying! Don’t you see that?,” Sidney begged. “I love you so much, more than anything in this world, Annie. But I also have a team to think about, a whole fucking franchise riding on my shoulders! Don’t they matter too?”

Annie let out a laugh at that, running her hand through her hair, “Yes Sidney, they do matter. And they clearly matter more than me.”

Annie turned and walked away from Sidney, who quickly followed her. She went upstairs into their bedroom, Sid’s heart sinking as he watched her pull out a suitcase from their shared closet.

“Baby, don’t do this. Please, let’s talk,” Sid begged as he stood in front of Annie, gripping her shoulders tightly. “I can… We can work something out?”

“Are you willing to compromise on your hockey schedule? Take things for the team out of your schedule so I can see you more than twice a week,” Annie asked, lips turned down. When Sid didn’t answer she huffed and pushed past him. “Yeah… Didn’t think so.”

Sidney watched in silence as Annie began tossing things into her suitcase, tears streaming down her face. He wanted to say something, anything, to make her stay. But he was at a loss for words, only snapping out of his thoughts when Annie was standing right in front of him.

“I’m sorry Sid, I never wanted it to end like this. But I need to look after myself,” Annie took in a deep breath, then leaned up to press a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you Sidney.”

Without so much as another word, Sidney Crosby watched Annie Wright walk out of their bedroom with his heart clutched tightly in her hand.

[ariadynamics]

Once upon a time, I had this Maxiel WIP where Daniel wrote a tell-all book, but then I kind of forgot about it. Then I was thinking about what to write for @danifesting's tiny fic/holiday card, and suddenly I couldn't get that WIP out of my head.

I ended up writing a little more from that universe for Ali, and honestly, I think I actually want to flesh this out and write the full fic??? Anyway, for Ali, who is one of the best, kindest, most wonderful friends I know 💜.

You probably don't need to read the first little bit before reading this, but it's short, anyway!

// Maxiel

There’s a clear distinction between couldn’t and wouldn’t. Still, from how Max clutches the stack of papers in his hands, his knuckles red, burgeoning on purple, Daniel knows it’s not the time to pick apart his words. 

He allows the thought to sit in his chest momentarily before pursing his lips and letting out a soft sigh.

It had never been about his willingness--or unwillingness, from Max’s point of view--to love Max. That Daniel would grow to love Max, would fall in love with Max in a way that shuts the door on other people fully and with deafening finality? That had never been a question.

Max, for Daniel, had been inevitable.

Daniel couldn’t love Max, though. Certainly not then, not when Daniel was still driving and had been so determined to prove to the world that he was someone at the expense of it all--even himself. The Daniel then couldn’t be queer; he couldn’t be interested in men. And he certainly couldn’t be interested in his fucking teammate. 

He feels two sharp tugs at his sweater.

“Uncle Danny?” Issac asks with a slight hesitation in his voice. 

Daniel blows out a breath, dragging the biggest smile he could muster to the surface. “It’s all right, Issac. Why don’t you head on out, yeah? Tell your Mum I probably won’t be coming for supper tonight.”

Issac looks at him, worried. “Are you sure, Uncle Danny?” 

“I’m all good here, I promise,” Daniel says, ruffling the top of Issac’s hair. He gives Max a tired grin. Daniel doesn’t know whether it’s good or bad that Max hasn’t taken his eyes off him at all. “It’s not like Max here will kill me, yeah? We’re just going to catch up.”

His nephew doesn’t look convinced, but after giving Max another once over, Issac nods, grim. “If you get chopped up into pieces, I’m getting your dirt bike collection,” he says before nudging past Max, straight out the door and making a beeline towards the front gates.

“He’s a little intense,” Daniel says, shrugging. He won’t apologize for Issac, not when he still doesn’t know why Max is even here. “Come in; you must be exhausted.” Daniel turns around, walking towards the kitchen, not looking back to see if Max had followed him.

He tries to ignore the relief that pools at the pit of his stomach when he hears the light scuffling of Max’s shoes behind him.

Rummaging through his fridge, Daniel pulls out a carton of orange juice and a water bottle. “You must be thirsty,” he starts, pouring Max a glass. “I’m afraid I’m not fully stocked up yet. Just got here from--”

“I didn’t come here for a fucking drink,” Max interrupts, jaw set. 

Daniel can’t help but mirror Max’s tone. “Why the hell did you come here, then?”

“Did you love me?” Max asks instead of answering, his voice cracking at the edges. “Before.”

His first instincts tell him to run, but Daniel plants his feet harder on the ground. He’s done with running. This time, Daniel wants roots. “Which time?”

Max slams his papers on the kitchen island, the first few loose pages on the top of the heap scattering to the floor. “What the fuck does that even mean? What do you mean ‘which time’?” he asks, shaking. “After you won in Monaco, after I told you how I felt about you. When the fuck else? Are you saying you loved me at any other point in time?” Max spits out the last bit with venom, almost making Daniel recoil.

“Yes,” he says, quiet, but firm. Daniel carefully gathers the papers, squaring them up neatly. He pushes them to the side, making sure there’s nothing on the counter between them. “And yes. Every time, Max.”

[the-literary-legacy]

♥ 𝓗𝓪𝔃𝓫𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓵 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓼 ♥

This is how I imagine characters from hazbin hotel reacting to you falling asleep in their arms. This also takes place before the hotel is destroyed and hell was attacked by the angels. The characters i am going over are:

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

Charlie

2. Alastor

3. Vaggie ━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━ If you would like me to go over any other characters, feel free to let me know. (suggestions box open 24/7 on weekdays) ━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━

Enjoy lovlies!

🎀 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒 🎀

Charlie would be sitting on a couch in the lobby of the hotel when you came over to her and laid down on her lap, quickly dozing off. Charlie slightly panicked but saw how peacful you were. She let out a 'Aww!' of happiness and stayed in place until you woke up. <3

Another possibility is Charlie slowly lifted up your head when you fell asleep and placed it on a pillow, then ran away to go see Vaggie. :(

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙

꧁༒☬𝓐𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻☬༒꧂

Most people might think he would murder you in your sleep and some think he will be super kind. so here are both possibilities. >^<

You were very tired (and bored) so you decided to go pester Alastor. (someone got a death wish) A while later you found him inside the radio tower ontop of the hotel sitting in his chair. "BOO!" You tried to scare him but only got a glare out of it. "What do you need?" He asked in his usual old fasioned radio voice. You circled around him and plopped yourself on his lap. (R.I.P) "I want to hang out with you!" you answered calmly as Alastor gave you another glare "By sitting down.. on.. my lap?" he questioned but you had somehow fallen asleep on him "Well this is a good time to get rid of a problem." Long story short he chucked you off the top of the hotel.

Alastor was feeling in a wonderful mood today so he sat on the couch and did nothing. when you came over and fell asleep on the other side of the couch, he felt a bit of pity for you and poked your leg. You woke upp and looked at him "You.. can.. sleep over here.. i know there aren't any pillows.." He sid quietly but let out a slght grunt when you actually turned and laid your head on his lap, falling asleep even quicker. "Oh.. well.." He put one thin and boney hand on your head. He watched you sleep and snapped at anyone who tried to wake you. <3

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

ミ★ 𝘝𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘦 ★彡

Vaggie was lying down on the couch when you came along, laying down on her stomache and falling asleep. She looked at you with a slightly puzzled expression for a while before she smiled and started playing with your hair. She may seem mean but her sweetness is wonderfull. About an hour later she will most likely doze off with you then Charlie will come around and put a blanket on you both before letting ya'll rest. <3

The other option is Her doing the same thing to you that Charlie did. She does not want to be a cheater!

[in-death-we-fall]

To Hell and Back

Kerrang 1227, September 13 2008

Being a member of Slipknot is a tough business. But it’s not just onstage that bad things can happen, as Joey Jordison knows to his cost…

Words: Daniel J. Lane Photo: Paul Harries

The cocaine one. It's short but it's a lot. Knew what I was getting into but this one's definitely gonna be wedged in my hellbrain for a bit.

(google drive link)

When Kerrang! caught up with Slipknot at the end of June prior to their headline slot on the inaugural US Rockstar Energy Mayhem tour, drummer Joey Jordison joked that, after being off the road for three years, the band were so full of pent-up energy and so desperate to get back out and play live that he “wouldn’t be surprised if we break our fucking necks on this first run of shows”. And, in true Slipknot fashion, on day one of the tour in Seattle, Washington, Slipknot DJ Sid Wilson ended up breaking both of his heels after an ill-advised stage dive, while Jordison himself reportedly drummed so darn hard he was forced to ride out the final three dates of Mayhem concealing a broken ankle from his bandmates. As a result, Slipknot were forced to cancel their scheduled European festival shows — including Reading and Leeds — after doctors ordered Jordison off the road for six weeks.

The diminutive sticksman is currently at home in Des Moines, Iowa. He’s bummed about letting all the European Slipknot fans down, but that disappointment is mixed with positivity, with new ‘Knot album All Hope Is Gone having debuted at number one and number two in the US and the UK respectively. And having finally kicked a long running and very private battle with addiction, Jordison has much to look forward to.

How much have you changed as a person since we last officially saw you on Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses? “I’m definitely happier these days, that’s for sure. To be quite honest, and this is something I don’t want to get into, but basically, it all comes from quitting partying. I stopped taking narcotics just before the New Year and now I don’t flub on double bass anymore and I don’t have to try to get through the songs when we play live. You can do whatever you want in your life, I don’t care. I’m not going to preach to you and tell you to stop doing whatever, but now I’m happy and I play better. It’s that simple. My band’s ecstatic about it. I haven’t played this good for a long, long time. Probably since the first record, and there’s nothing more gratifying than that."

When did you realise you had a problem with drugs? “It was probably when I realised that I wasn’t just hurting myself, I was hurting the people around me. I had a real moment of clarity last year. My girlfriend at the time, a girl who I thought I was gonna be with forever, cheated on me and I went on a three week coke binge. I actually wrote some of the riffs for the new album [All Hope Is Gone] around that time, which is the only good thing to come out of it. But I just wasn’t having fun anymore and my family knew it.”

How did your family react? “My sister, Annie, kept trying to call me but I didn’t want to speak to anyone. The phone was off the hook. I didn’t answer my door, the lights were off, and I was just fucking ragingly pissed off all the time. So she sent me a picture of my nephew. He was trying to play drums and he was wearing one of my old masks. And so I called her and she put him on the phone and he said, ‘I love you uncle Joey’, and I was like, ‘Fuck it, I’m done. This is fucking stupid’. I realised I was basically fucking dying. It took that to make me realise what was really important in my life and that I’d done a lot of mean things to people.”

Like what? “Just stupid fucking rock star shit. Thankfully, I’m fucking over it, now. You act like an asshole, you feel like shit the next day and your performance suffers because of it. I really don’t want to go into it… I once made a tour manager cry because I was so fucking pissed off and hungover. Just fucked-up things like that. Let’s just say I’ve had to make a lot of apologies to people. But the past is the past, now I’m so much faster at drumming, so much more fluid with my breathing. I eat better… And I’m also fatter (laughs).”

We’d have said ‘healthier’ rather than ‘fatter’. You were looking quite skeletal towards the end of Vol. 3… “I’m just happier, dude. I wake up, and I eat really well. I don’t wake up and throw up like I used to. I’m not rail thin any more. Everyone in my family is like, ‘It’s so good to see you put on a few pounds’.”

Where do you think your addiction stemmed from? “We have good lives. I’m not going to say ‘Oh, woe is me’. People know we’ve had success and all that stuff. But there are things that can push you over the edge. Things like being an outcast at school, my step dad dying, the death of my friend [former Killing Joke / Ministry bassist] Paul Raven… He was one of the sweetest, most genuine fucking guys that I’ve ever met in my life. He was too young, man. He was too young. And I will miss him forever. These are the things that never leave you.”

Is that why you tried to incorporate the scars into your new mask? “I’ve had scar lines in my mask for a while now, but yeah, I wanted to design a mask that just shows the pain that I’ve gone through, the love and the hate I’ve gone through. It’s decrepit, it’s rotting, it’s sewn together. And the crown of thorns and the mummified look and the willowy hands, is the same thing. I’m growing old, man. I’m a human fucking tree, I’m just rotting into the earth. It’s the scariest looking thing I could come up with. I don’t wanna be the pretty boy in the band any more. I’m sick of that shit, y’know?”

Does it bug you that, pretty much from when Slipknot started, girls would throw themselves at you because you were the ‘cute one’? “Yes and no. Actually I think I might have done myself a disservice, I think the new mask might attract more (laughs). That said, I can’t wait to see the mock-ups in the audience. The old mask was kinda easy to copy, but the new one’s going to be that little bit harder. I honestly can’t wait to see the first kid with a crown of thorns at a Slipknot show.”

So what does the future hold for you, personally? “I don’t know. I take each day as it comes. Every morning I wake up and think, ‘Is this gonna be my last day?’. And if today is my last day, I wanna go out swinging, man. You know what’s crazy about me? I’ve already bought my grave. Just in case. It’s over down on Second Avenue [in Des Moines]. That’s what being in Slipknot does to you.”

Slipknot’s new album, All Hope Is Gone, is out now. The band will be touring the UK in December. See Gigs for details.

[andromedasummer]

Hello, I just saw an ask you sent abnerkrill about f1. I'm very new to the sport (I'm on s4 of Drive to Survive and have just begun following the current season), and doing some research into f1 history for a project I'm working on. Do you have any resources on the history of f1? And do you know where I can find the Senna documentary? No pressure to respond, of course, and thanks for sharing your insight in that ask.

Hell yeah I can help! DTS is docudrama which means it will make a storyline outta nothing, so you've probably been given a very warped view of the sport. Which isn't to say it isn't good fun! Its just not helpful to understanding the sport.

I've been into motorsport coming up on 4 years now and I've read/watched a bunch on the history of F1 and motorsport. I'll list some of that stuff here:

MY RECOMMENDATIONS:

One: Life On The Limit (documentary)

Free on youtube. Interviews tons of drivers. Got me into the sport. I mean it when i say it interviews a ton of old drivers/important people from multiple eras and paints a real picture of the danger of the sport. Fair warning: it contains footage of fatal crashes and if you find that upsetting I totally understand and won't blame you for skipping it

Lauda (Documentary)

Eveyone should know about Niki. I say this half-ironically. Hes my fav driver so I'm biased but his impact on the sport cannot be overstated. His story, from his championship to his horror crash and full body burns to his next two championships and his fight for driver safety is incredible. He was half of the pair that organized the famous driver strike! Whole grid locked themselves in a bedroom instead of driving to protest the lack of safety!

Rush (Movie)

Again Niki Lauda related, however this is THE motorsport movie. It's very accurate to the battle between James Hunt and Niki Lauda for the championship, along with their friendship. It's great and even non-motorsport enjoyers loved it.

Biographies/Auto-Biographies (Books)

Tons drivers have tons, some have multiple (like Senna or Schumacher) and you can get the more well known ones from the more well known drivers off Z-Lib or annasarchive pretty easy (use a vpn and go to r/piracy and navigate to their masterpost of piracy links. if you dont have a vpn dw they list a really solid free one) you should also be able to find a host for the senna doco through there. I would recommend reading about figures like Prost, Schumacher, Lauda, Hamilton obvs but also non-drivers in the sport like Ross Brawn and Sid Watkins.

Life on The Limit (Books)

Two books by Sid Watkins (doctor who made f1 safe) that were released in tandem with the doco I mentioned and go into great detail about his friendship with past drivers. Really funny at multiple points and then absolutely heartbreaking when it comes to the things he saw and lost during those days. Highly recommend.

My friend Laura who has been watching since infancy also recommends:

- "In general for freebie resources, overtakefans as a site has a Ton of resources and history archived"

- "and if you search for 'F1 season reviews YouTube' you will usually find the short season round ups they used to do that provide you with some basic history and that can be really good if you want to know more about certain eras but don't know where to start."

Silver War (documentary)

It's abt nico and lewis and their lifelong friendship into bitter toxic rivalry into. whatever the fuck it is now. is on youtube, (I personally haven't seen it.)

Grand Prix: The Killer Years (Book)

About the deadly years of F1, I believe. (I haven't read it.)

Enzo Ferrari: The Man and The Machine (Book)

from Laura: "even though it starts WAY WAY WAY before f1 and is probably too heavy for a newbie to handle it is a VERY detailed look at not just Ferrari but early Motorsport in Europe and how that eventually led to the creation of F1 and why Ferrari has always been a presence in it"

The book also touches briefly on fascism in the sport which I will be talking abt under the readmore because I do feel it's an important disclaimer.

So, I put this under a readmore cos it's a bit long. But the one last thing I wanna say is that I think it is important when looking at F1 both in the current day and it's history to discuss the grim realities about why Motorsport is so elitist, and how that has been ingrained since it's founding.

A big thing to know about F1 history is that is was founded by the wealthy, juuust pre (late 1920s) and then post WW2 (paused during the war). It was the wealthy of this era who could afford to buy and race motorcars. From there, it was only those wealthy who could fund and form those teams. It was a rich mans hobby. And unfortunately, more often than not, those very rich men had fascist ideals (which were very, very popular in England and Italy and Europe in general and up until WW2 which made it a more distasteful ideal, although enough people certainly persisted with these beliefs more quietly).

Nazis raced in it. Nazi sympathizers raced in it. Ferrari had to work for Mussolini and Mercedes had to work under Hitler making weapons during the war, some members of these companies more willingly than others. Hell, one of F1s most famous circuits it raced on is the Nurburgring. A massive stretch of track that was made on the orders of Hitler, next to a small town where the small Jewish population had been purged. It was built to show off German Engineering and with the hopes to show off to the rest of the West (they lost against the English in the inaugural race and threw a fucking fit abt it loser fucking nazis).

These echoes of facism and elitism do still exist in european motorsport to this day and, like fascist ideals, have expanded into other continents. I don't think I could name a Brazilian driver who doesn't support Jair Bolsonaro. The Piquets are personal friends with him, Nelson (4 time world champ, prolific racist) drives him around for political rallies. Emmerson Fittipaldi (another old champion, Brazilian) ran as an MP for the Italian fascist party. Bernie Ecclestone (owned the rights to f1 for a WHILE) believes in fucking insane conspiracy theories about Jewish people and described Putin, who he is friends with, as a "good man" on national television when questioned abt the invasion of Ukraine. Max Mosely, who was head of the FIA until the late 2000s, was a youth fascist who handed out handwritten leaflets on "racial inferiority". His parents wedding was attended by Hitler himself. He was the nephew of Oswald Mosely, who was done for treason during the war for his loyalty to the Nazis and belief in Nazism. Max was still in charge when Lewis, the sports first black driver (one of two ever now, out of 70+ years of history), came into the sport. And that's not even going into the morality of some of F1s sponsors (Armco, etc) and the places they race (too long to list)

This is uncomfortable, yes, but it's not often talked about when recounting F1's history. Certainly not in documentaries or books. The creators of which who, frankly, dont even know how to touch on the subject or think it's fine to skip over. But it is a reality of the sport and it does intertwine in an irremovable way with its history, especially when you look at the people who both competed and still do compete. When you look at its current day classism, its racial inequality, sexism, homophobia, ableism etc.

Just because its easier to hide these days through weak statements, a stance of individualism on drivers political views and co-opting of activist language without actual moves towards change, certainly does not mean it isn't there. And while things have absolutely improved in terms of diversity and will hopefully continue to improve with the presence of people like Lewis Hamilton and Susie Wolff, F1 and European motorsport is and was unfortunately, founded in an era of fascism and elitism and it will be a while until those parts of the sport can be removed from its structure.

[jackhues]

Hiii and congrats on 1000 followers!! Can I request 🤍 for buttercup/peanut meeting Bedard for the first time? I think it would be funny either way because bee's not super happy with the comparisons with her dad, while peanut probably doesn't even understand who he is

thank youu <33 haha, here's a short blurb on both of the meetings

buttercup:

the stadium groaned in unison as the horn sounded to signal the end of the game. buttercup, along with the other fans, took a moment to clap and cheer on the boys as they left the ice.

plastering a smile on her face, she made her way out of the stands and through the halls reserved for players and family.

"you played a hell of a game out there," she gave tristan jarry, the pend goaltender, a hug.

he nodded half-heartedly, patting the top of bee's head fondly as he moved towards the locker room.

bee smiled sadly after him, always sad to see the goaltenders sad after losing a game.

sid shoved his glove in his daughter's face as he walked by, trying to get her to cheer up a little. bee made a face, swatting his sweaty glove, but giving him a hug.

"i saw your goal," she said. "you're lucky. i just got back from getting some candy. if you were any earlier, i would've been upset that i missed it."

sid laughed, "oh it's my fault you miss seeing the goal?"

"obviously," she answered.

"oh get outta here," he shoved his glove near her face again.

"you can't talk to your child, your own flesh and blood, like that," she called after him, waiting in the hallway as he continued making his way to the locker room.

whenever she watched the game, she had a habit of staying in the hallway until the last penguins player left, and then heading over to wait for her dad finishing up his media.

like always, sid went ahead to get a head start so they could go home and bee would be ready for school the next day, while she congratulated all the pens players on their game.

"your russian's getting weak!" geno called as the two of them finished a half-english-half-russian conversation.

"not my fault!" bee called back.

she craned her head to see if there were any more pens players coming out of the tunnel, freezing as she saw a different jersey.

before she knew what was happening, the blackhawks team made their way past her, too lost in their own huddles and the adrenaline of winning to care about a little girl in a penguins hoodie standing at the sidelines.

bee froze, wide eyed, as players she only knew from watching the game, made their way past her in real life.

they stopped near the hallway before heading to the locker room, huddling up with their teammates and congratulating each other on plays. everywhere bee looked, there was a blackhawks jersey.

"you okay?"

bee looked up at nick foligno, a veteran hockey player now playing with the blackhawks.

"i'm good," she answered, though she wasn't sure how convinced he was.

"are you lost or something? need help?" another person asked.

bee looked at connor bedard, the rookie sensation. she raised a brow.

she expected him to be taller.

"bee?" jon, the equipment manager, called out from the front of the room. "c'mon, your dad's done media for the day. he's waiting in the second hallway."

"i'm coming," bee said, making her way towards him.

behind her, most of the players were now trickling into the locker room, still excited over the win. but she could hear some players whisper "oh, that's sidney crosby's kid!"

she was pretty sure one of those whispers belonged to connor bedard.

-

peanut:

"peanut, where are you even going?" mama sighed, following her kid.

peanut had been adamant on seeing her dad and saying hi to him, and then saying hi to mitchy, and then saying hi to everyone else on the team. now, she was refusing to get back to her seat in the stands.

"you want me to watch her for a while?" jennifer, one of the media coordinators for the leafs, asked. "we're just gonna be here for twenty minutes or so to film chicago's entry."

"fun!" peanut clapped her hands, taking a seat on the floor.

mama made a face, "well, i guess i'll stay here with you guys."

jennifer laughed, setting up the cameras to get some shots ready. soon enough, a trickle of chicago blackhawks players made their way through the hall, some stopped by peanut wanting to claim the hallway to do tricks instead.

"mama, watch me," peanut said suddenly jumping up and blocking connor bedard's path. she looked up at him, "you need to move backwards. i wanna show my mama a trick."

"oh dear god, why is she like this?" mama muttered to herself, embarrassed.

jennifer tried her best to hide her laughter, recording the trick peanut wanted to show mama.

after doing three (partial) cartwheels, peanut threw her hands in the air and grinned. "ta-da!!"

mama, jennifer, and connor clapped dutifully as peanut ran back to sit on the floor.

"that was great," connor grinned, giving the little girl a high five before moving past.

"sorry about her," mama chuckled. "she's at the age where she thinks she's the most important person in the world, and her dad's coddling doesn't help that."

connor shook it off, "no worries. i'd actually have been disappointed if i missed that. she's a cute kid."

"thanks, i made her."

[littlexdeaths]

the car trouble saga continues…

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

you can find parts one-three on the masterlist below!

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

you will your breathing to slow as you walk alongside eddie to your front door. letting your fingertips brush as you walk, and it feels like you’re in a dream.

you had expected him to laugh off your offer, but he agreed almost too eagerly. was it just wishful thinking on your part?

or did he want this too?

you’re completely lost in your thoughts as you unlock the front door with shaky hands. while he seems as casual as ever, eddie is just as nervous as you are— he’s just much better at hiding it.

“so uh, where’s sid at anyway?” he asks softly as he kicks off his reeboks by the front door.

while eddie had spent the greater part of his teenage years in this house, he’s never seen it so quiet. it’s unusual. but not as unusual as being alone with his best friend’s little sister.

“working, or he’s with heather.” you shrug.

heather halloway, your brother’s better half.

“and your parents?”

while it embarrassed the hell out of you that you were still 20 years old and living with your folks, you really couldn’t afford to move out on your own yet.

“gone for the weekend, celebrating their wedding anniversary.” you hum, looking back at him over your shoulder.

eddie swallows thickly, and it finally dawns on him just how alone you two really are.

he follows you into the kitchen, flicking the overhead light on when you head towards the fridge.

“are you hungry? or thirsty? i think i might have some leftover—” your rambling is cut short when you turn and he’s suddenly right beside you.

he’s close. so fucking close that you can feel the heat radiating from his chest. eddie takes a step forward, backing you against the kitchen island. he rests one hand on the counter by your hip, and the other reaches up to cup your cheek. there’s a look of determination in his eyes as his tilts his head towards you.

and then you feel his lips brush against yours.

you’re in shock, body completely frozen as he presses his lips more firmly against yours. but when he feels how stiff you are, he stops immediately. a look of embarrassment crosses over his features when he takes a step back.

“oh shit, fuck. i read this whole thing wrong. i’m so sorry. god, please don’t say anything to sid, he’ll kill me—”

now you’re the one cutting off his worried rambling with your lips, gripping his t-shirt in your fists. eddie recovers quickly, immediately pulling you closer by your belt loops. his lips are softer than you expected, and they mold against yours almost too perfectly.

you can still taste the last cigarette on his tongue, and the sweat from his upper lip as you kiss him harder. it’s the most intoxicating combination and you just want more, more, more.

and more he gives you.

eddie’s grip on your hips tightens and suddenly he’s lifting you up onto the counter. he fits snugly between your open thighs, ringed fingers slipping up and underneath the hem of your blouse. you don’t know where he ends and you begin, but you can’t find it within yourself to care.

not when he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

but it all comes crashing down in an instant when the front door swings open, and your brothers voice rings out into the empty house.

“mouse? you home?”

[fishyy-fish]

Untitled Sidnate Fic Sneak Peak

Tbh it’s probably gonna be called Maneater because I’ve been on a Nelly Furtado kick lately and I’m allergic to naming fics anything except song titles/lyrics.

Sneak peak under here because it’s horny in spirit, not in practice. The spirit is willing but the author cannot write anything more than tenderhorny allegories for smut.

I can do this, he thinks as he pushes his palms and the balls of his feet into the thick spongey foam of his mat and breaths in and out slowly, I survived the 2016-2017 season so I can survive playoffs and living with Sid.

Twenty minutes later, Nate is forced to rethink that. Sid must hear the yoga video stop, has to know that Nate finally feels calm enough to not think of bending Sid over the nearest surface in his house and fucking a baby in to him at all times, because he comes into the gym to do his work out. He walk into the room and Nate’s jaw drops because Sidney’s wearing the shortest shorts Nate has ever seen and a tight t-shirt that pulls across his bulky shoulders and pecks. Nate lets out a low whistle (he’s only human, ok?). “It’s lululemon,” Sid says, before heading to Nate’s weights. “It sure is, bud,” Nate says, unapologetically staring at Sid’s ass and thighs as he bends over to look at the kettle bells Nate has.

Nate blames Marchy. He doesn’t know how, he doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know why, but Marchy had found out about their summer thing two years ago, and had become hell bent on torturing Nate since then. Clearly, Marchy had upped his level of sadism to previously unknown highs for the league’s little ball of hate. Maybe he was worried that the Aves would meet the Bruins in the finals, so he decided to send Nate to an early grave and prevent that. Nate would be pissed, but also if Sid’s ass is the view as he dies, who is Nate to complain?

[lovelystoriesaj]

CHAPTER 3.

word count: 1581

tw: 2 slurs

i lean against my locker, a green apple sucker hanging from my lips while i go through my books.

"hey blondie." stu taps the top of my head before going back over to tatum.

"hi dingus." i wiggle my fingers in a wave without looking up.

"i shouldn't be here." sidney slams her locker shut beside me, making my ears ring.

"i want you to meet us here right after class, ok?" tatum says, taking the cherry sucker she took from me out of her mouth.

"alright. hey i haven't seen billy around, is he really pissed?"

"what, after you branded him the candy man?" stu digs around in tatum locker, picking up a mirror.

"no, his hearts broken." i say, slamming my locker shut, just like sidney did before. i feel a hand hit the back of my head.

"ow!" stu and i groan.

i turn around facing the sound of screaming coming down the hall. people running toward us in the same outfit we use get up in sidney's face before running down the stairs. she obviously looks tense, considering my dumbass brother attacked her last night.

"why are they doing this?"

"are you kidding me? look at this place, it's like christmas!" stu exclaims. i shoot him a look that had 'shut up idiot' written all over it.

"stupidity leak!" tatum hit him in the face with her sucker.

"ow! easy!"

"way to go dingus." i mumble as sidney walks off. "i'm gonna go find randy. peace out girl scout."

i walk away from the two, trying to find my boyfriend. after turning around to walk in the opposite direction, i notice my brother and sidney talking by the stairs. sidney runs off down the hallway. i walk up to billy with a smile.

"way to go b, way to go." patting his shoulder before walking to class.

my head leaned against my desk as the teacher drained on and on.

"attention all students, due to the recent events that have occurred, affective immediately, all classes are suspended. the woodsboro police department has issued a citywide curfew beginning at nine o'clock tonight."

excited howls run through the halls as people run out the front door of the school.

"thank God for sidney prescott!" i yell while i walk out the door.

i run to meet up with tatum and sidney.

"hello my beautiful best friends, today is an absolutely divine day, besides the, retarted dinguses in ghost face masks running down the hall." i sling my arms over their shoulders.

"kizzo-kaskizzo is is-out! i don't know what you did sidney, but on behalf of the entire student body, we all say thank you!" stu laughs, pulling me from between the two girls.

"drop it stu." tatum mumbles.

"yo, know what i say-" he runs over and flings tatum over his shoulder, "impromptu party tonight, my house. celebrate this little siesta. what do you say?"

"are you serious?"

"that said, tatum, this little vixen dosent invite the entire world we'll be fine. intimate gathering, intimate friends."

"i'm down." jumping on stu's back after he sets tatum down.

"what do you say, sid? i mean, pathos could have it's perks." tatum says.

"totally protected. yo, i am so buff. i got you covered girl!" stu drops his voice, making me laugh.

"yeah, right." i pat the top of his head, hopping off his back.

"come on sid. for me and maddie? it could be fun."

"ok, whatever."

"yeah? nice. cool, you guys bring food, all right?" i realize i have been walking in the wrong direction and turn around to walk toward my car.

"wanna go pick up some videos? randy can give 'em to me for free." i smile, twirling my keys around on my finger.

"after you do your thing. i'll sit in the car." he throws me my backpack from the backseat.

"why thank you, kind sir." i walk into the school, doing my business before walking back out. "can you do my a favor and go string himbry up? i'm too short."

"sure, he out by the field?"

"mhm. took forever to get him out there though. that man is heavy as hell." i laugh, tossing stu a rope.

"ok, be back in a jiff."

after he comes back, i toss him a towel to wipe off his hands before i drive off to the video store.

i walk in, quickly finding randy in the crowd. i walk over and wrap my arms around his neck.

"hi babe." i say in his ear, he turns around with a smile.

"hey mads! what are you doing here?" he shifts the tapes that were in his hand to the other.

"looking for videos of couse! and to see you. stu is throwing a party tonight and we obviously need movies."

"oh!" stu yells from behind me, knocking the tapes out of randy's hand.

"dork."

"you don't have to be a dickface, stu." i bend down and help him pick up the tapes.

"jesus, this place is packed tonight." stu looks around at the large crowd in the horror section.

"we had a run in the mass murder section."

"comin' to my fiesta?"

"yeah, i'm off early. curfew, you know." he starts stacking cases into the shelf. "oh now that's in poor taste."

"what?" i ask while picking at my nails.

"if you were the only suspect in a senseless bloodbath, would you be standing in the horror section?"

i look up, noticing billy surrounded by girls in the middle of the slasher section. i roll my eyes at his stupidity before looking back at my nails.

"what, it was just a misunderstanding. he didn't do anything." stu gestures to my brother.

"you're such a little lapdog. he's got killer printed all over his forehead!"

"can we just stop talking about my brother?" i mumble, looking between the two boys who were staring at billy.

"oh-kay, really? well why'd the cops let 'em go, smart guy?"

"because obviously they don't watch enough movies."

"this is standard horror movie stuff. prom night revisited." i answer, looking up from my hands to stare at stu.

"yeah? why would he wanna kill his own girlfriend then?" stu asks me, leaning over the shelf that separated him from randy and i.

"there's always some stupid, bullshit reason to kill your girlfriend. that's the beauty of it all. simplicity."

i shoot him a dirty look before slapping his arm.

"i wouldn't kill you baby." he take his hand in mine.

"aww, so adorable."

"besides, if it gets too complicated, you lose your target audience." i explain to the obvious moron that is stu macher.

"well, what's his reason?" the taller boys head moves toward billy.

"maybe, just, going out on a limb here. sidney didn't wouldn't have sex with him." i say, throwing an empty case at his head.

"what, is she savin' herself for you?"

"last time i checked, stuart, i'm not a dyke."

"you know who i think it is? i think it's her father. why can't they find her pops man?" stu points a finger between the two of us.

"i didn't even think about that." i look at the taller boy.

"because he's probably dead. his body'll pop up in the last reel somewhere! eyes gouged out, fingers cut off, teeth knocked out!"

"randy, babe, i didn't need that description." i pat his back, trying to get the picture out of my mind.

"see, the police are always off track with this shit."

"come on man!" stu mutters through his teeth.

"if they watch prom night, they save time. there's a formula to it. a very simple formula! everybody's a suspect!" randy yells.

"baby, please shut up."

"i'm telling you, the dads a red herring, it's billy." randy says as he turns around, coming face to face with my brother, who grabs his collar.

"how do we know you're not the killer, huh?" billy asks, all up in his face. stu walks up and put his arms on his shoulders.

i walk up beside them, waiting for the interaction to escalate.

"hi billy."

"maybe your movie freaked mind lost it's reality button. you ever think of that?"

"you're absolutely right. i'm the first to admit it. if this were a scary movie, i'd be the prime suspect." randy says quickly, obviously stressed out by the closeness of his face to my brothers.

"that's right."

"and what would be your motive?" stu asks, tickling randy's earlobe. i slap his hand, making him pull it away with an 'ow!' randy turns around to look stu in the eyes.

"it's the millennium. motives are incidental."

"millennium, huh. millennium, i like that. that's good. it's the millennium." billy grabs randy's nose.

"ok, that's enough jackass time for you, buddy." i grab the hair on the very end of his neck, pulling him back. he lets out a yelp of pain, bringing his hand to the back of his neck.

"ow! was that really necessary?"

"mhm. now adios, william." i turn him around and push him forward.

"millennium. good word my man." stu says with a smile

"you're telling me that's not a killer? if i were maddie, i would have left that house by now."

"ok, randy, pick the best movies, im gonna head home to get ready."

"wait, but you drove me here?" stu whines.

"find a way back home bud, cause i ain't taking you. im not a taxi."

[heroofspiritsisthebestlink]

VHAD NATION

I wrote another fic! This time, I think it’s short enough to just slap on here. I also want to thank @creativeskull95 for letting me use their OC, Maia! Please, give their stuff a look as well.

Without further ado, let’s begin.

A Dream Is A Wish Your Core Makes

"Lock down the whole building. We can't risk that thing getting in."

The overly sweaty humans on the screen started bickering between themselves, as Thad began to zone out for the 13th time tonight. He really was trying to keep up with the movie, but it bored him so much that he was genuinely starting to wonder if his motivator was malfunctioning. A quick hit on the pause button and a two minute full body-scan later revealed that, no, the flick was just that asinine. It didn't help that it was getting a little late, or that this was his third attempt at trying to watch the whole thing through. Horror was boring him, somehow. Living in an isolationist, paranoid society that was constructed from the fear of death made dramatized fiction like this feel artificial and numbing. At least, that's what he supposed. He rubbed his eyes and slumped back into the sofa, maybe he'll give it a fourth shot tomorrow.

His eyes went wide in surprise as the sound of a ventilation grid hitting the floor behind him brought him back to reality. When the initial shock passed, he looked over his shoulder and sighed in relief as a familiar, tall figure lowered herself into his hallway. Adjusting her hair, she then waved at him.

"Hey." Said V. "Pod got a little cramp and I got bored."

"That makes two of us." Said Thad, throwing a flabby hand up at the running TV. V chuckled, making herself at home by casually throwing herself on the sofa and putting her legs on the armrest.

"So what's on?" She asked, leaning up against his side.

"'The Instance,' or something. School assignment. We're supposed to watch horror movies to study how humans..." He picked up the paper laying on the table, digital eyes squinting to find a specific paragraph. "'...Use suspense and scares to engage their viewers.' This gotta be the worst movie in the world to show that. Thanks Teach." Thad threw the paper into the air and leaned back again, putting his hands behind his head.

"Dunno about all that, but I'm sure as hell entertained. Look at that guy's wig!" She cackled, pointing a stray claw at the screen. Thad rolled his eyes, but couldn't deny he was smirking. A wig that spiky did look a little out of place. He found himself earnestly smiling for the first time while watching this movie. Maybe it'd be easier to stay awake if he had someone to banter with.

As it turns out, it wasn't so bad if you just had company. They poke fun at the flimsy plot and all the oddities of humanity. V is especially snarky today, mockingly questioning every part of the movie from the character's illogical actions to their fashion choices. The former huntress exercised great comedic skill as she efficiently disassembled the poor Worker Drone's mask, leaving him gasping for air as she continued her assault on his Funny Code. They couldn't stop giggling.

As they finally managed to get past the 60-minute mark, the movie picked up considerably. It was at least interesting enough to make the two drones shift around in their seating and graduate from limp blobs to sitting normally. The characters had eventually gotten into a predicament interesting enough to get invested in. The guy with the spiky wig even got taken away. And then the movie's climactic horror scene happened. The movie's monster, some cloaked creature, had seemingly cornered a large group of characters in a foyer. Then, the carnage began. The monster lunged at the defenseless meat-bags and mercilessly culled them. Bodies were ripped apart, limbs were torn off, screams peaked and died out, and blood was splattered on the walls to such a gruesome degree that would almost be comical if it wasn't so disturbingly familiar. But it was with humans, so Thad could stomach it. He side-eyed V to gauge her reaction, she was being oddly quiet. V looked unnerved. The eyes on her visor had dilated into pupil-less circles. It was getting to her. It was too familiar. Same old horrors. It was too much.

The screen froze as two, grey vertical blocks stared back at her. Thad had paused the movie.

"Do you wanna watch something else?" He asked. V blinked, pupils returning.

"...Isn't this an assignment?"

"It can wait. I have the whole week." He didn't, but this felt more important. Stepping out of the sofa, he waved her over to a shelf with a bunch of plastic casings. DVDs, she realized. Thad began digging through them all, taking them out one by one and having increasingly indifferent reactions to the covers. Looking over the collection, V started to browse herself. Noticing an oddly fancy, glittery one, she took it out. 'Cinderella.'

"What's this?" V asked, staring at the cartoon woman on the cover with intensity, as if trying to gauge whether or not the woman may have the fire powers the title implied.

"Oh, that's my sister's. We can put it on though." He offered with an endorsing tone. V plucked the disc from its casing and threw the plastic over her shoulder, inserting it into the DVD player and hitting Play with her tail. Taking a seat next to Thad again, she waited with her hands resting on her lap. After a few seconds of unusually old static, the archaic sound of filtered horns filled the room.

Cinderella~

If you give your heart a chance

Thad smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he had watched this with Maia, but the melody brought back many memories of his sister gleefully singing along to all the songs. V had nothing to say. She just watched unblinking as colorful graphics painted several pictures to a beautiful song. She said nothing as the pleasant narration introduced her to a nostalgic setting. She didn't question how the woman could converse with animals, or how they could help her shower. It was just a story about a servant girl dreaming of more, and that was enough for her to escape in.

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing...

———————————————————————

When Maia woke up early in the morning, she was confused to find a metal grate on the floor in their hallway. Tip-toeing around it, she kept quiet as she sneaked into the living room, expecting to find her brother fast asleep on the sofa once again. Her hand flew up to her mouth to choke the gasp she nearly let out, as next to her brother slept a much larger, scarier girl. A Murder Drone, or, a 'Disassembly Drone,' as she had tried to learn, was cuddling up to Thad in a paradoxically sweet embrace. Looking over them, Maia could also see that the girl had wrapped her tail around Thad's leg. The drone had a big yellow SLEEP MODE sign on her visor, with text beneath reading 'DO NOT DISTURB' in threatening, bold letters. But even if she was really scary, Maia also thought she was really pretty. She was like a sleeping princess, but with big scary wings and teeth.

As silently as possible, Maia began tracing her steps backwards to leave, but was startled to hear her foot step into something crunchy. Panicked, she looked down. It was the casing to her Cinderella DVD. Why was that there? Looking back up, she gasped. Wide, terrified eyes met squinting, groggy ones. The murder princess was awake. With a surprisingly gentle smile, the big girl winked at her, quietly shushing her with a finger. More embarrassed than afraid, Maia turned around and quickly ran into her room.

[myceliumbean]

Some short clips happens between my Cars OCs and some canon characters who become more and more like OCs

Take I: Zil and Boris and the four medics saving Siddeley along with three C.H.R.O.M.E. agents

Boris: I thought I was just stopping by the airport for fuel and look at me now. What, a Gulfstream V who was modified to be able to hover in the air, was down because he flew into Russian from the Arctic? You've got to be kidding me

Eva: Stop complaining and get to work! Zil promised he'll pay for the bill once we get these idiots to safety

Alyona: *hanging around trying to wake Finn and Rod up and gave Holley her cocoa (with too much caffeine)

Daniil & Michaele: *Trying to make Siddeley stable while Eva gave the spy plane some transfusion and medical treatment

(After they were back in the hangar)

Zil: *typing the bill with an extremely experienced way

Finn: *Noticed

Finn: You're quite good at doing that

Zil: Believe me, I'd rather not be this good

Take II: Leland's reunion with the C.H.R.O.M.E. agents (if only it's single-sided)

Leland, back in his usual red paint and without his frame disguise: Finally, this is what I called freedom

Boris: You've been in here driving in circles and trying to climb the hangar walls for over an hour, why don't you get to explore the hangar next to this one? Zil gave you the permission

Leland: You putting things like that makes me not wanting to go

Boris: The lunatics will be back in no time, I don't want the five of you blowing up our cover

Leland: Fine… but you did know that they can held a party inside you, right?

Boris: *Stares

Leland: I'm leaving!

(After a single glance into the door of the next hangar)

Leland: *ran back the where Boris stays, and now with four forklifts pressing close onto his belly, sleeping soundly

Leland: You didn"t tell me it was THEM!

Boris, with his default bored expression: Figured you'll get it when you saw Siddeley

Leland: Sid was almost the only plane sticking around! He could've pick anyone else!

Boris: Shouldn't this be a happy reunion?

Leland: No. I'm not ready to be not-dead, and if I didn't explain good enough, Finn will probably- bloody hell, I don't even know what he'll say

Boris: You're overthinking. They will be awake in the afternoon, you'd better ready to be NOT-DEAD by then

Leland: Thanks for the support, MATE.

Clips like this are what make me wanting to write the stories that bring the characters up!

@longjiaojiao