#alas. I live in the uk

[uboacore]

Sharing these otgw anniversary events so the people able to go don’t miss out!

[faaun]

last night i got home kind of tipsy and very much in tears and my mother told me the force you exert to keep someone in your life is proportional to the force with which they will leave your life. if you have to fight tooth and claw to keep them, their leaving will be just as hard, just as harsh, and just as definite.

[averlym]

hi, i see you are on hiatus, but thought at some point you might like to hear that january 28th is henry’s deathday ~ holiday anon

another one bites the dust (haha because you hoover dust)

[moinsbienquekaworu]

I'm sorting & checking files for past exchange students and man I do wish I'd had the grades + motivation to go to the US. Traveling to the UK is complicated but less than taking the damn plane over a whole ocean, y'know?

[lestatdelioncourte]

all i want in life is to see a starkid show live

[pearlcaddy]

I’m at that stage of homesickness where I came across one of those kitschy LA tourist shirts at TK Maxx and almost burst into tears.

[theonetrueyeet]

waking up and its still dark... autism is here

[qqueenofhades]

Hoping you can explain this because you’re smart but why in the world are the same people who scream about a labor shortage worried about the border and immigration? Isn’t more people coming to our country a good thing if we train them properly to fill vacant positions (a lot of which are service jobs anyway)?

Alas, you are forgetting what is quite possibly the chief shibboleth of Western white supremacy/far-right nationalism: that all people from other countries, especially *gasp* the brown ones, are invaders, murderers, job-stealers, polluters of the (white) body politic, etc, and that under no circumstances should they be invited or allowed to stay. This isn't just an American thing; witness the Tories in the UK salivating over the idea of torturing migrants, trying to shut down any legal migration routes even with the employment black hole caused by Brexit, steadfastly denying that their workforce problems have anything to do with Brexit, steadfastly denying that they need to loosen immigration rules, etc. This is also the case with the European right/far right, the Australian far right, and anywhere else in the world that has historically been built on systems of white colonization, white supremacy, and other racial and legal scaffolds of privilege and exclusion. The white people who come to a country and settle it are bringing "civilization" and therefore should be welcomed and encouraged, but the non-white people who already lived there are "savages" and need to be exterminated for the good of the "master race." If they try to come back to the (white) nation state after their homelands were colonized, moreover, they are "invaders" who just want to "soak up the money of hard-working citizens" and etc etc.

The core fascist hatred of immigrants is also why Trump is directly echoing Hitler's anti-immigrant rhetoric with his "poisoning the blood of America" screeds, his promise to round up and deport migrants en masse, and otherwise be as massive of a dick as possible. The fact that there's no economic benefit and indeed a lot of economic pain is entirely beside the point. Trump and his deranged followers like the cruelty and the idea of torturing brown people for daring to come to "their" (white) America, and think that if they can be outrageously monstrous enough, this will finally deter all the other ones from coming. It won't, and no globalized economy will run without immigrants, but again, this isn't the point. Reality or pragmatic calculations have nothing to do with it. It's only about what can cause the maximum amount of cruelty and chaos to everyone who doesn't wholeheartedly worship and fit the (white) fascist model. That's why the Republicans yelled about wanting a border bill before they'd fund Ukraine; the Democrats obligingly gave them one with some of the toughest restrictions in years, and the Republicans yelled and threw it away because Dear Leader Trump told them to trash it. In some sense this is a good thing, because it meant that Ukraine got funded without being beholden to performative partisan cruelty at the border, but it also shows that they don't actually care about any of this. They have bluntly stated in so many words that they want a manufactured crisis at the border so Trump will have it as a campaign issue. Then he can take office and implement all his terrible concentration camps and all the other genocidal fascist bullshit of Project 2025 (bUt bIdEn iZ thE wOrsE oPtiOn!!!!!)

So: yeah. There's no point looking for any actual consistency or logic in the modern far right, because that is so far from the actual aim. No matter if migrants are essential, no matter if Americans literally won't take many of the jobs they do, etc. I live in a big city that has had a ton of migrants coming here and have read many, many news articles about how all they want to do is get a work permit, make their own money, learn English, and integrate into American culture; they are often far more positive about the prospects of America than actual Americans. But because the entire project of a (white) fascist ethnostate as advocated by Trump and co. in America, the Tories/Reform in the UK, and the far-right European parties, Russia, and other places (this is all connected worldwide -- again, it's not limited to one country or region), rests on demonizing (brown) immigrants as subhuman scroungers who come to rape, murder, steal jobs, and otherwise threaten (white) law-abiding citizens, that will always win out above every single other consideration.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Letters Unsung ~ Arthur Shelby x Fiancee!Reader

Summary: Since the very beginning of the First World War, Arthur’s Fiancee managed to get an unpaid job at UK’s radio station podcast so that she may daily speak a few encouraging words for the soldiers, and in turn, to her beloved Arthur Shelby.

“Must you really go, my darling?” Arthur heard the love of his life plead for him in such a sweet, mellow voice; If only he could, he would throw away his family, his country and everything to ever exist, just to find a safe place to hide with his darling Y/N. Alas, in a mondial war involving every country known to mankind, there was no place to hide. 

Fear and anxiety wasn’t a world in which he wanted Y/N to live in. She was too good for this dark, bleak world; Even as cannon fodder, if he could benefit the war and keep the country safe - Keep Y/N safe - he would gladly go.

“Mighty sorry, my love, but y’know better than I do that I gotta. Old enough to be in my damn prime - ‘Em muscles hadn’t built by ‘emselves, y’know? You always said I looked damn fine all naked - Well, Gov’s thinkin’ the same. Strong ‘nuff to carry a gun, strong ‘nuff to die for ‘em.” he rambled idly, lighting up a cigarette, puffing in the air, then squishing it in the ash tray. Y/N hated smoking. She always said she wouldn’t kiss him if his breath stank like tar. “Tommy ‘n’ John... They’re both so young. Can’t have ‘em go die without their old bro trying to protect ‘em.” he looked at his girl - She was trying so hard not to break down into sobs again. For the past days she’d been crying non-stop. She was unconsolable, and not even he could comfort her - Hell, he was terrified out of his mind, the thought of never seeing her again was killing him... “C’mon, doll, you’re too pretty to cry so much. Save ‘em tear for when i get back home, and you jump in my arms, and I twirl you around like the pretty angel you are.”

“B-But... Artie...” her words were stammered and hardly comprehensible; All she did was cuddle into his side and cry. If only she could water the plants with that wasted water, Polly said at some point, yet she was just as terrified for her children as Y/N was. John was barely 18, there was no way he’d make it through! “I can’t live without you. There is no life without you. I’ll die without you!” 

“Aww, darlin’...” she was so loving and genuine... What the hell was he supposed to do; He will be crying himself to sleep every night in the field, thinking that he left her all alone. “My sweet angel.” he held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing her. “You’re my most precious treasure, Y/N. For you, I’ll do anything in my power to get back as fast as possible and wife you. We’ll have a pretty garden wedding - In Spring, with the pretty flowers - You always told me how you like ‘em pretty flowers. Heard there’s this place with a... A gazebo, next to this forest out of Birmingham; Ain’t no way Imma have you be a pretty bride in this grey shit hole of a city.”

“Promise you’ll come back to me?” Arthur gingerly took her hand and kissed her fingers.

“I promise on this ring that I gotchu that I’ll be back to keep my vows to you.”

The next morning, Y/N was robbed of a final goodbye, though it was more of a blessing in disguise than anything. Arthur spared her the despair she’d have had to endure, seeing him board that freaking train and leave the station, like lamb to the slaughter. By the time Y/N had woken up, Polly and Ada were around her. Polly had suggested the eldest Shelby brother that Y/N was too emotionally devastated and would be unable to go through that experience - Hence why she came up with the idea of placing a few sedatives in her sweet calming tea, which ensured a long and peaceful sleep.

Y/N was completely lost - Without Arthur, she had no idea what to do with her life; She couldn’t grieve and cry 24/7, that was unnatural, and her fiance wouldn’t want that of her, surely. She would have gladly enrolled as a nurse on the field, but not only did Arthur completely forbid her to do such a feat, she was also denied by the military - She was a certified doctress, she couldn’t be a combat doctor with no military training - Thus, she kept her work as a doctor in the Birmingham hospital.

Many months on end passed, and many more letters she sent, but received none. The radio was on, awaiting the war broadcast and praying that she wouldn’t hear the name of “Shelby” ever, until the war was over. Still, listening to the radio wasn’t enough. Anxiously awaiting for the police to come to her doorstep to tell her Arthur died, also, wasn’t good. Sure, she had Polly and Ada by her side, and she was always busy at work treating people, prepping for surgeries...

There had to be something she could do. Something that would benefit the people remaining in the country to defend the land... Something to sooth the soldiers facing the death door every second, awake and asleep.

And she had just the idea, the money, and the influence.

Y/N walked right through the doors of the radio station and explained to the chief her idea; Surely everyone knew how beneficial battlefield morale was for the troops - Hearing good words from home was sure to up their battle prowess tenfold. The old man himself had three sons send to France, of course he knew better than anyone how none of his wife’s letters reached them. Hell, he had no idea if either of them was still alive after four months out there.

And thus, the very first podcast was recorded, live, in the studio. Y/N’s voice was wavery and uncertain - She was awful at social interactions, hence why she clinged so much to Arthur and sought his comfort. Still, he was out there, bravely fighting to protect her - The least she could do was to speak a few words into a microphone.

“Good afternoon, brave soldiers. I am Y/N Shelby speaking, for the ‘Echoes of Hope’ broadcast.” what was she supposed to do now? The people were listening to her! “We have come up with this idea of creating a podcast to speak more directly to you - Only God knows if any of the thousands of letters sent have been received by you - So, a more direct approach had to be taken.” she took a deep breath to muster some strength. Think of Arthur and the soldiers. “I am speaking from the heart of Birmingham, sending warmth and courage across the airwaves, hoping it would reach at least one of you, brave men, fighting to protect your families and home.” she licked her lips, forcing herself to continue speaking. “Today, and tomorrow, and in every day that keeps us apart, as you brave the frontlines, know that we, back home, hold you in our thoughts and prayers.” a stray tear found itself caressing her soft cheek where one was held by Arthur’s rough hand. “And... To my beloved Artie... If you can hear me, know that each word I speak carries a piece of my heart. Stay strong, my love, for your strength is our beacon of hope in this colourless place.”

As she turned off the broadcast button, she took off the headset and stepped away from the microphone. The old man stepped in front of her and patted her hair, seeing the girl cry.

“Oh, I messed up big time! Forgive me, I completely ruined this thing... Oh, I am awful, awful at speaking to people! I-I thought that, without a person in front of me, it would be easier -- But I messed it up so badly!” the poor girl whined, though comforted by the man.

“I wouldn’t say you butchered it, love, I’d say the people out there fighting for our homeland just heard the voice of all of us, fighting our own battles yet staying strong to support and cheer on them also.” he patted her shoulders to straighten up. “Life is difficult with this poverty, yet we make meets end and figure things out so that we can welcome them back in a safe home that lack nothing. Lord knows, they will need all the comfort and support they can get, poor children... If only I wasn’t so old and a cripple, I would be out there to protect my boys.” the old man shed a tear. “Y/N, come back tomorrow at the same time and continue speaking to them. Only they know, your voice might just be their salvation.”

And thus became the routine of Y/N Shelby, every day in the evening after her hospital shift was over, she would pass by the radio station and begin speaking her heart out for the soldiers spread throughout Lord knows how many countries.

“Good evening once again to the brave men fighting for our home. It is Y/N Shelby again, and I bring you words of encouragement from the women of England.” this time, she was smiling; She looked at the old man next to her and felt enboldened to continue. “Each day we await your safe and hasteful return, and each night we whisper our hopes into the silence, hoping that our prays will protect you.” she really should write a script instead of free-styling it. “Arthur, my dearest, your courage inspires me. Remember, as you face the trials of war, that our love is your shield, and my voice is your guide back home. Please, never lose track of your path back into my arms.”

The old man smiled, moved by the girl’s words, and encouraged her to come the next day also; It was bound to create a routine for all the soldiers to listen to the prayers and words of courage and morale from the Angel of Birmingham.

“Hello, everyone - I assume you can recognise my voice by now.” she sounded much giddier than usual. “I am overjoyed to say that, after 11 months, I have finally received a letter from my beloved Artie!” she chimed, trying to keep composed. “He told me in the sweetest words how much he loves me - And how he wants us to have the prettiest wedding ever; In Spring, and filled with flowers, just how I love it.” she continued, overjoyed. “These words of love - All of Arthur’s feelings for me - I know each and every one of you feels the same for the loved ones waiting impatiently for you at home; So, for once, I will transmit your words to those waiting for you here, in Britain.” she cleared her throat. “For every mother, father, aunt and uncle, brother or sister... For grandparents, children, wives and husbands and friends also - For every living being here, in Britain, waiting for your beloved to return home, safe and sound - Just know that your letters have been received, and so have all of your love and good intentions. They are thinking of you, the very same way - So keep on hoping and praying, and know they are heard and working. Your loved ones need it.”

A whole year passed, and many more were going to follow; Emboldened by the fantastic idea of the podcast, more and more women, children and elderly decided to join the production, each of them passing along their message to those on the battlefield, read live by Y/N.

“As the war rages on, it becomes harder to find the right words. I have come to speak to you every day, for a year and a half - And I dearly hope none of you have gotten bored of my voice yet.” she chuckled softly. “I know that you, Arthur, and all the soldiers, need to hear that we believe in you. You are not forgotten, not for a moment.” she went on. “My dearest Arthur, hold on to our memories, for they are the thread that will guide you back to me. England’s women stand with you, every step of the way.” she took one letter in her hand. “But today it’s not only about you and how much I love you, Artie. From today on, I am going to read for you the letters that may have never been received by you.” she cleared her throat. “This letter is written by young Jimmy, a charming 5 year old lad who wants to write to his grandpa, Captain Andrew Brown. < Dear Grandpa Andy, mommy taught me how to write, and I wanted you to be the first to see me writing. I never met my daddy, but for me, you are my daddy. I hope you return home soon; I want to play horsie again - And you promised to teach me how to play football when I grow old. I’m a big boy now, I help mommy carry yucky veggies at home - And I eat everything from my plate. Mommy said you’ll come home faster if I study well and get good grades, so I’ll do my best! I love you, papi! > “

The old man was moved to tears; He was imagining his own grandson crying for him. A single mother, whose only support is an old man gone to war. Life truly was unfair.  In spite of that, the letters read on the podcast began rapidly to gain traction; Every person out there had something to say to someone on the battlefield.

“Today, the news brought a glimmer of hope. Arthur, your bravery has not gone unnoticed. I heard of your close call, and my heart ached with fear and relief. You  are my hero, and I send you all my love and strength. To all soldiers, know that each of you is a hero in someone’s heart. Hold fast, for victory is within sight.” she held a letter in her hand, ready to read it. “This time, we have a letter from Mr. Daniel Masters, wanting to share his wholesome words with his wife, Mrs. Angela Masters, who selflessly volunteered as a nurse on the battlefield, and was deployed in Verdun.” she began reading the letter. “ < My darling Angie, you are an angel on this earth. Not only did you volunteer to go out there, in the middle of the war, to save me, a useless cripple, from dying there, but you are saving other men with your fantastic knowledge and skills in medicine. I and my sister are working hard so that when you return, we can have the wedding of your dreams. And don’t worry about little Susie, she’s in perfect health and asking about her mommy every day. She started braiding her hair like you, saying she wants to be pretty like mommy - And what do you know, she found your stack of medicine books under the bed and began asking me to explain those long words - I have no idea what those words mean, I can’t even pronounce them. I hope you’ll come home soon, my angel. We miss you very much, and we love you endlessly. > “

Thus four years passed, day after day, with Y/N passing on the words of Britain, yearning for Her children to return home. At some point, even Ada sent a message for Freddy, reminding him of their childhood love - And Polly wanted to tell the brothers that they have to be strong and return back no matter what.

Finally, it was the fated day - The Government announced the soldiers of Birmingham arriving by train, at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. The station was a sea of anticipation and anxiety, filled to the brim, overcrowded by people of all kinds and ages. Y/N stood amidst the crowd, her heart pounding as she scanned the faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of Arthur. The air was filled with the sounds of families reuniting, joyful cries mingling with the tears of those who had waited so long for this moment.

Children clung to their mothers yelling a collective ‘Daddy’, elderly parents searched for their sons, and wives stood on tiptoes, straining to see over the throng of people. Y/N felt a mix of hope and fear, her eyes darting from one soldier to another, desperately searching for the one face she longed to see. The same uniforms everywhere, but no sign of her beloved.

As more soldiers stepped off the train, the crowd surged forward, and Y/N was jostled, her view obscured by the pressing bodies. Panic began to set in. What if Arthur wasn't on this train? What if something had happened in the final days? Her heart raced, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. She didn’t want the only keepsakes to be the letters he sent her during war; That makes for a most tragic memento.

"Artie!" she called out, her voice lost in the cacophony of the station. “Artie, angel, where are you?!” she continued shouting, but her soft voice was drowned out by the other people calling for their loved ones.

Minutes felt like hours as she stood there, her eyes scanning the thinning crowd. She felt lost, a wave of despair washing over her as the platform began to empty. Just as she was about to break down, fall on her knees and succumb to her grief, a figure appeared through the remaining haze of steam and people.

Arthur.

He was thinner than she remembered, his face gaunt and eyes hollowed by the horrors of war. His disheveled uniform hung loosely on his frame, and he moved with a weary slowness. But when his eyes met hers, a spark of recognition and relief lit up his face.

"Y/N." he breathed, his voice hoarse and tired.

At first, her mind blanked, and her legs became jelly, shaking like two flowers in the wind - It took Arthur smiling and calling her name again, to regain autonomy over her body. She ran to him, tears streaming down her face as she threw her arms around him. The world seemed to stop as they held each other, the pain of their long separation melting away in the warmth of their embrace. Arthur clung to her as if she were the lifeline that had pulled him through the darkest days - And just as promised, he twirled her around. Y/N, his angel, was back where she had to be - In his arms.

"You came back." she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “You really, really came back. You’re here, in the flesh, alive and breathing, and living -- I’m not dreaming, I’m not imagining - I’m not dead, am I?” she pulled back, cupping his face and looking him in those gorgeous doe-eyes of his. So gentle and so loving. “You are real, aren’t you? You came back to me.”

"I promised you, didn't I?" he replied, a faint smile touching his lips despite the exhaustion etched into his features. “I promised I’d come back and marry you. No man would be crazy enough not to return home to an angel like you.”

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the noise and chaos of the station fading into the background. Arthur was home, and that was all that mattered. It wasn’t sure whether it was Y/N comforting Arthur after 4 years of horror experienced, or Arthur was pacifying his poor cry-baby darling; Yet one thing was sure - They were where they were supposed to be.

"I'm so proud of you." Y/N said softly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes, before peppering him with kisses all over his face. "You made it through, Arthur. You're here. My hero. You are my hero, Artie. Our hero. You saved us."

He nodded, his gaze steady but shadowed by the memories of what he'd endured. "It's over now. No more about what happened - I don’t wanna hear about it anymore.” he shook his head, holding onto her tightly. “I am home."

As they walked away from the station, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of peace settling over her, yet she was still shaken - She was clinging onto her beloved like a baby koala, afraid of losing him, like an oasis mirage. They had both been through so much, but now they could face the future together. The road ahead would not be easy, but with Arthur by her side, she knew they could overcome anything.

The war had taken its toll on them, but their love had endured. The Shelby family was entirely reunited, and trying to heal from the festering wounds created by the four year massacre. Life will never be the same, but they had to learn how to live again, and adjust to a whole new world that was in constant development - A fast world that was waiting for no one, especially not for veterans and their grief.

Each member of the family was affected differently; John became rebellious, Ada was going through a desperate need for affection from Freddy, Polly became dissolute and cynical, Tommy was no longer the adventurous young man who was Y/N’s partner in crime, but a most apathetic and lethargic man, Arthur became aggressively violent and would lose his mind every time he heard a loud noise resembling guns or bombs, and Y/N had to learn how to stop her nightmares and live without worrying her husband would disappear and it would all just be a delusion.

Either way, only one thing mattered for Y/N.

Arthur was home.

[hahaifolded]

HAPPY HISPANIC HERITAGE MONTH! In honor of HHM and Día de la Independencia en Mexico (September 16th), here is a little thing I wrote in celebration. I tried finishing this in time for yesterday but alas, life happens. Hope y'all enjoy my weird thoughts!

141 x Mexican!Fem Reader - Al Pastor and Allies Summary: Soap really loves Mexico, especially its women. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, Some Spanish dialogue, SPANISH CURSING, and slight sexism Word Count: 1666

“Why is Alejandro making us pick up lunch? asks Ghost, which sounded more like a whine than a question. 

“He has some things he needs to handle and thought it would give us a chance to see more of Las Alamas,” informs Price who’s directing the boys to the place that Alejandro recommended. 

“Don’t be like that. Live a little. If you’re lucky, we might see something cute on the way,” jokes Soap. He hits the moody lieutenant on his shoulder to further sell his point. Ghost glares at the Scotsman while Gaz laughs at his fellow sergeant’s antics. 

“Cute or not. I’m just happy we’re off base,” adds Gaz. Ghost just sighs heavily. He didn’t see why Alejandro couldn’t pick up lunch. He actually knows Spanish. Now they’re stuck with Soap’s way-too-confident Spanish. However he couldn’t complain too much as the smell of savory meats fill the air.

After turning the corner, the UK squad arrive to the renowned taqueria that Alejandro obsessed about, an open concrete structure that had a small counter, large grill, and tronco de al pastor towards the back. And it’s clear that Alejandro isn’t the only one who loves this place as the place is packed. All of the mismatched plastic chairs and tables are filled and the line to order is out the open entrance. 

“I guess we wait,” says Price as he goes to the end of the line. Gaz and Soap follow. Ghost grumbles but joins them. The four immediately jump into a lively conversation. Or more like Soap talks and the rest listen. As they moved up in the growing line, Soap went on and on about how beautiful Mexico is. 

“And the women,” he groans in approval, “Guys, if we’re lucky we might leave with some very fond memories of the place.” Gaz and Ghost groan while Price shakes his head. Price looks around the place, hoping that no one heard the crude remarks of his sergeant. Soap notices Price’s wandering eyes, but mistakes it for something else. 

“What is it cap’n? Something catch your eye,” he asks, curiosity dripping in his voice. He looks around too and stops when he notices the lone woman standing behind them. She’s too engrossed in her phone to notice the SAS team. Soap signals her out with a quick flick of his thumb. “This one catch your eye? She's a nice looking one. If you don't jump on that, I will."

Smack.

“That’ll do,” Ghost grunts out, smacking the back of Soap’s head. 

“Siguiente!” yells the woman running the counter. So engrossed in their conversation, the 141 did not realize it was their turn to order. Price ushers Soap forward. The Scotsman pulls out his phone and reads Alejandro’s order to the woman. The older woman reads back their order which Soap confirms. However, before she informs them of their total, a voice from behind speaks up.

“Cobra al güero doble!” The four men turn around to see the woman that Soap had pointed out talking. The woman at the counter asks why you wanted to charge them double.

“Porque este ojete anda hablando de las mujeres mexicanas como si fuéramos animales!” She’s clearly pissed. And she’s not the only one as many people start to boo at the UK boys. 

“What’s happening?” loudly whispers Gaz. Price and Ghost just shrug. 

“I think she’s mad,” informs Soap. He moves away from the counter. He walks towards the woman with his arms out. “Nena, por qué no nos calmamos y hablamos?” But instead of calming the woman down, Soap further infuriates. 

“Nena! Quién putas de crees?” She moved towards Soap but before she can put her hands on him, a booming voice stops her. 

— — — 

Before you can put your hands on the man with the Mohawk, you hear Alejandro’s voice. 

“What’s going on?” He rushes in and stands in between you and the Europeans. The place quiets down at his presence.

“Este hijo de su puta madre,” you began but Alejandro ignores you. 

“It’s been an hour. What happened? Qué fueron a matar el chivo?,” he asks the four men in front of you. You couldn’t believe it. He was checking on them, not you. 

“The line was long and Soap here made himself a friend,” the man in the mask informs. Alejandro looks to his side and finally notices you. 

“Eey, qué haces aquí?” He tries to pull you in for a hug but you push him off. 

“No mames Alejandro. No ves que voy a madrear a este güey y aquí andas saludándolo como si fuera un amigo,” you say. Alejandro looks at you then to the men. He smiles.

“Oh que bueno ya conociste nuestros aliados para este misión.” He pulls you to his side and faces the men. He introduces them as Taskforce 141 and you to them as lieutenant to the all-women squad here in Las Alamas. You’re aware of the 141 but you expected a much more respectable team. 

The 141 stare at you. This was such a horrible first impression on their part. Especially for Soap. “Alejandro, can you tell her that I didn’t—“

“You can tell me yourself!” you spit out. 

“Sorry, I just thought—“

“Yeah, you saw a brown face and fucking assumed, didn’t you? But guess what, some people bother to learn a second language unlike you, gringo?” Soap starts gasping for air, trying to talk his way out of this. Ghost and Price are embarrassed while Gaz just laughs at the whole situation. 

“Oiga, cálmate,” Alejandro adds. You just snap at him, informing the colonel of Soap’s crude remarks about the local women and you. Alejandro is fully aware that Soap was messed up, but tries defend him for the sake of the mission. 

“Look, kick his ass later but now they’re our allies so let’s just forget about it,” he begs. You scoff. You weren’t going to let this go. How could you work with someone who clearly doesn’t respect you or your team? But before you can rebuttal, the 141 captain butts in. 

He grabs Soap by his arm and pushes him towards you. “Apologize,” he commands. Soap spits out an apology, saying how he just wanted to express his deep admiration for this country and its people and meant no harm by his comments. Price pushes him back and adds, “Do forgive him. He’s just a dumbass at the end of the day.” Soap sheepishly smiles.

Price puts his hand out and continues, "Let's start over. I'm John Price, captain of the 141. And these are my men." He re-introduces the other three, Gaz, Ghost, and your favorite, Soap. "As captain, I am appalled by my soldier's actions and will punish him accordingly. But for now, let me pay for your meal. It's the least I can do for your troubles."

You take his hand. "Thank you, Captain. Real kind of you." He moves to the side and lets you walk towards the counter. You grin at Alejandro and begin to order.

All of their jaws drop to the floor as you begin to order. Despite the team having basic Spanish, they all understood that you had ordered 50 tacos de al pastor.

"Y una agua de jamaica por favor," you say, finishing of your order. As the woman sums up the total, you pull Price from his arm. "Cobrale a el, mi sugar daddy va pagar." You rest your head against his arm. The woman informs Price the total. He slowly pulls out his wallet, in disbelief. Lucky for him, he had enough pesos to cover your order.

The woman hands you your ticket. "Gracias," you say in a sing-song voice. You leave the men with a smirk on your face.

Alejandro laughs at them. "She was picking up lunch for her girls." he informs.

-- -- --

Alejandro and the 141 take a seat as they wait for their order. While they catch up, Ghost stares at you. You were talking to the man in charge of cutting the meat. The Lieutenant was impressed. It wasn't everyday that someone was able to get the upper hand over Price.

"Hey, eyes over here," Alejandro warns Ghost. He didn't like the eyes that Ghost was giving you. Ghost rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the table. Which ended up being futile as you join them, standing behind Price and Alejandro. You immediately engage in conversation with your colonel.

You're so lost in your conversation that you mindlessly start to play with the back of Price's head. So touch-starved, Price leans into your touch.

"Our cap'n is going to fall asleep if you keep doing that," Gaz jokes. You stop and look down to see Price's eyes closed.

You let out a soft laugh. "Let him. Poor man must be tired." You smile and take a sip out of your straw. Gaz couldn't help but stare at your smile. It was contagious.

"What're you drinking?" asks Gaz without thinking. He wasn't sure if he was on your good side.

You hand him your drink. "Try it." He hesitates but takes your wide smile as encouragement. He takes a sip and groans in enjoyment.

"Wow, this is good," he says. He couldn't help but admire your kindness. You just met him and were open to sharing your drink.

"Can I try?" asks Soap as he reaches for the cup.

"No." You grab your drink of Gaz. Gaz, Price, and Alejandro laugh while Soap just deflates. Ghost huffs out, not amused that you rejected one of his sergeants.

You glare at the Lieutenant. "Have something to say? Dilo, o qué, te falta huevos." Ghost's eyes widened, shocked that you called him out. Before he could say anything, your number is called.

"Pues, that's me. Thank you again for lunch. Real excited to work with you guys." You throw them a wink and leave to grab your food.

The 141 all stare at you. This mission might be more fun than they expected.

Thanks for reading! - Fold's Page Guide + Masterlist

Author's Notes: I really hope my Spanish is correct here. I can speak it confidently, but when it comes to spelling, in any language really, I fumble. Also let me know if y'all want a completely English version. I did not provide translations cause I think you can still understand without it but I can if needed.

This was just some random thought that came to me so I said fuck it, why not share it! Very self-indulgent for me. Would love to yell at these guys just for fun!

Is Soap OC here? I don't know. But all I know is that he's a man and men tend to be stupid so that's my reasoning.

[romancingdaffodils]

Something.

He say, “I know you, you know me”

Remus Lupin x gn!reader

warnings: umm, nothing yet really. Reader wears a dress and there's cigarettes smoking. Is set in 70s UK! (Biblically accurate collars and there will be talk about the riots back then )

Hey! Have you missed me? I bet you didn't expect my return with a 5k word long fic about our lovely Remus. There's more chapters to come, I just wanted to lay the foundations for something new. The titles have been stolen from: Something - The Beatles and Come Together - The Beatles

I can't really explain the plot as it doesn't actually exist yet, but for this chapter: Black family ball - reader makes her formal society debut: joins forces with the other teens there. Its a bit crappy really, but it will get better I promise. I'm just a little rusty. Just know they are magical but aren't yet back at Hogwarts.

Debutant. You were a debutant at a Black ball. You were making your debut in front of the entire Black family, and every other powerful wizarding family. To phrase it as simply as possible: you were bricking it. Your dress was widely uncomfortable and you hardly moved for fear of the corset breaking and tearing you to shreds. Every piece of jewellery that hung upon your body made you feel as though you were a Christmas tree. You’d been primped and preened like a tree - styled to the taste of your homeowner. You were merely being placed on display to impress other families, like a tree. 

1977.

Your hands were shaking as you sat in the car beside your stepfather - whose name was William. The man who had turned you from the daughter of the best dragonologist the wizarding world had seen to a Christmas tree. You were his very own all-year-long Christmas tree. 

A small sigh left your lips as the car stopped outside of the Black mansion. Then, a larger sigh followed. You screwed your eyes shut before reminding yourself it was one night and then you were safe for a few weeks. Safe from the sheer embarrassment of debuting. You knew no ‘respectable’ wizarding family would see you as legitimate due to your lineage. The only reason your stepfather had enforced your debut was to protect his own image. He had been from a respectable family but had failed to realise marrying a woman far poorer and smarter than him would damage his reputation. He simply wanted you to have the best of both worlds. Even if that meant being a year-long Christmas tree. You understood that, to an extent. However, you couldn’t understand why he had insisted you debuted at a Black ball - especially as it was just before school restarted. You knew the Blacks from Hogwarts. Each and every one of them were popular in their own regard. Sirius Black was actually popular. The rest were just feared. However, if you embarrassed yourself at this ball you knew none of them would ever let you live it down. With Sirius being part of the infamous ‘marauders’, the teasing would be relentless. Nobody wanted to make an enemy out of them. Fortunately, you were almost completely certain not one of the group knew your name. You were rather good at blending into the background despite sharing many classes with them. You had sat next to James in potions during your fifth year. However, Lily Evans had sat on the table beside yours so he never really paid attention to you. It had stung a little at the time - to be ignored by someone so influential. But, part of you had learned to love not being seen by them because you were certain you couldn’t handle the fate of Severus Snape or Lily Evans. You had your own small group of friends; you were happy. Invisible, but happy. 

Alas, you cannot stay simply content forever. And, something was telling you that tonight would change the course of your future forever. Perhaps it was your hormonal teenage brain being over dramatic. Or maybe, just maybe, you could change your path in life after today.

Your stepfather helped you out of the car. The house was huge. You would describe it as a mansion. It was made from a stunning grey stone. Each window was perfectly carved out with swirls and edges. Pillars crawled across the front of the house, holding up the foyer. It clearly had ancient Roman and Greek influences alongside being an English gothic manor. As you moved closer towards the home you made it your mission to absorb each detail. There were gargoyles where the foyer met the wall. They looked down at you with contorted faces. One side of the house had a small sprig of ivy crawling up its walls. You had no doubt that would be quickly dealt with. You were then greeted by the doormen who led the two of you through a back entrance up to the second floor. Apparently, it was a Black tradition to have any debutants walk down the grand staircase as their entrance - you know, just to really display the Christmas tree. Your stepfather squeezed your interlocked arms. It didn’t really help your nerves. You and large staircases had never particularly agreed. In fact, anyone who knew you would probably campaign to keep you as far away from staircases as possible. This was due to a rather embarrassing fall down the stairs during your first year at Hogwarts. You were extraordinarily fortunate in that only your friends had seen it. It was now a longstanding inside joke. Your legs felt like jelly with each step you took towards the grand staircase. The doormen stood beside the grand doors. The doors had gold painted around the edges and were clearly a very expensive dark oak. It all made you feel very poor. It had engravings that looked like branches reaching out towards you. You turned your head to your stepfather, who nodded at you. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other after the car left your home driveway. Your name was announced by one of the house elves downstairs. You couldn’t quite believe it was 1977 and they had actual doormen - you were trying to rationalise this by assuming it was a tradition for balls. 

The doors swung open. The pair of you walked towards the stairs. You inhaled, and then exhaled. Each shaky step was a step towards finding the buffet table and filling yourself up on expensive chocolates or so you told yourself. You descended the stairs and your eyes scanned the room. Your dress dragged along behind you. Everyone was dressed similarly. Classy ball gowns, expensive silk gloves and tuxedos tailored to a t were all you could see. Then, your eyes landed on a rather odd-looking bunch of people. One was wearing a leather jacket, one a proper tuxedo, one was wearing a tux that was slightly too short and the other seemed to have lost his suit jacket and waistcoat. Suddenly, it dawned on you. It was the marauders. All four were here. And, all four were staring directly at you. Everyone was staring at you. You were clinging onto your stepfather for dear life by this moment. You continued to force a grin as your eyes surveyed the room once again. You locked eyes with a girl in a blue dress. Your own thoughts thanked Merlin as you looked down at her. An ally. Alice Fortescue. Never before had such a great sigh of relief left your lips. You were now able to admire the attire of the room. Brightly coloured tuxedos and oversized collars made you feel at home - it felt like being back in muggle England. The comfort of knowing you weren’t alone allowed you to make it down the stairs without falling. You were then led towards Orion Black, the one hosting the ball. You nodded your head respectfully as William thanked him. You thanked him also, attempting to appear as polite as possible. William kept your arms interlinked as he whisked you around the room to ‘mingle’. You met and thanked countless Black family members for their ‘most gracious invite’ that you were supposedly ‘honoured to have been given’. It became repetitive and slightly exhausting after the fifth person. William then introduced you to the Potters. And, Merlin, they simply exuded rich. Fleamont was kind and jolly: clearly coming from old money. His tux was not at all in the 70s style, but was much rather timeless and extremely classy. Euphemia wore delicate jewellery and a simple dress that screamed and shouted the word elegance. She had complimented your dress. You felt like a fool standing beside her. She was absolutely breathtaking in both appearance and character. Euphemia had also asked if you knew James. You replied with ‘kind of’. She said he probably wasn’t your type of person; he was too much of a troublemaker. You laughed politely.

Then, once you deemed it appropriate and William had found some old friends to converse with - you escaped. Weaving through the crowd, you moved towards the spot where you had spotted Alice. 

“Alice! Oh thank Merlin you are h--“ you cut yourself off. Yes, Alice was standing there looking overjoyed at your presence. However, she had company. Her boyfriend - Frank, who you didn’t mind, had his arm wrapped around her waist. And, yes, Frank was okay but, he played quidditch. Gryffindor quidditch meant he brought along the very people you were set on avoiding. Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. They were all smiling at you. Remus tilted his head down at you - he was standing the closest to you.

“Oh! Don’t you just look stunning. I thought I was going to have to spend the night with these idiots. I am SO glad you’re here! I can’t even believe my family got an invite. Panda is here somewhere too—“ Alice said, all very excitedly. She was then cut off.

“We haven’t met before, I’m Sirius Black,” Sirius said, offering out his hand. You assumed (quite correctly) that he was attempting to flirt with you. Naturally, your instinct was to shut him down.

“I know. I’ve been in your classes for the past 6 years. Actually, I sat in front of you in transfiguration last year.” you stated, deadpanning at him. Everyone in your little group froze, not quite sure how to react to that. Apart from one. Remus Lupin - who laughed. He laughed quite heavily.

“Nice one, Pads,” he stated, rolling his eyes. You often forgot Remus was Welsh. You wished he spoke more often - he was the only tolerable one of the group. You wondered why he had just called Sirius ‘Pads’, but decided to keep questions to yourself. “Well don’t act like you know who she is!” Sirius spat back, like a true diva. Remus shook his head and opened his mouth to answer. He was interrupted by the ever-booming voice of James Potter.

“Oh, Merlin! I know who you are! I sat next to you in fifth year- potions, right?! I remember because you told me that if I wanted Lily to talk to me I should get her to tutor me. Smartest idea ever.”

“Sounds like it was just an excuse to get you to shut up in lesson.” Peter said, shrugging his shoulders. This earned him a jab in the arm from James, who rolled his eyes.

“Do any of you actually know my name?” you replied, sarcastically. You didn’t expect much. Clearly, neither did Alice as she had already interlocked arms with you; she was ready to make an escape.

Remus said it. Very softly. It was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “One of us has to pay attention to the rest of the world.” he added, a little bit louder. You raised your eyebrow at him, but Alice had already started to drag you away. You looked back at him, feeling extremely confused alongside conflicted. Why did he know your name? Part of you said it was just someone actually acknowledging your existence, but you really couldn’t believe it. So, once again you asked yourself ‘why the fuck does he know me?’.

You smiled as Panda told a story - it was something about her summer adventures. You’d been a little too distracted with the expensive chocolates to listen fully but, you were sure it was extremely entertaining. You liked Pandora. She was a little whimsical, but extremely smart. She was not one to be messed with and seemed to have rather unlimited confidence. It was infectious. Alice had also offered up a catchup of her own summer. As expected, she had spent many a day with Frank. You thought the pair were adorable. You were certain they’d remain together no matter what. She had retold a story about visiting Cornwall with Frank’s family. To be completely honest, you were jealous. One, of the fact they had managed to have good weather and two, of how truly sweet their relationship was. You didn’t think it was possible for two people so you to be so in love. It was impressive.“Why don’t we go into the gardens? Or do you need to mingle more?’ Panda asked, looking at you. You smiled and shook your head. It appeared William was doing all the mingling for you and you’d much rather avoid the potential for any embarrassment in front of such a crowd. You had a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. 

“Let's go, get me out of here! I don’t know if I can stand this company any longer.” Alice joked, you smiled and followed behind the two of them as they walked. 

The gardens were beautiful. All kinds of flowers sprouted from the plant pots. Rose bushes lined the outside. You wondered what spell they had used to keep the flowers in bloom. You had no doubt it was at a large inconvenience to the house elves. Your hands gently dragged over the petals of one of the roses. It was a gorgeous deep red colour. It reminded you of the flowers from fairytales. Alice and Luna were sat on a bench, still chatting. You had found yourself with no choice but to admire the stunning plants. There were archways coated in ivy. Orange trees, with flowers that smelt simply divine. And, your own favourite, daffodils. They were tucked away in the corner, but had still made it into the garden alongside a mix of wildflowers. 

A rustling came from one of the archways, and yet again - the marauders popped out. However, this time they had increased in numbers. With the addition of Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows they were now ten times more intimidating. They had also gained the stowaway of Frank, who had clearly just been on the lookout for Alice. You looked over, examining each one of them. You then decided that to be their friend you had to be a supermodel. You just couldn’t believe that a group of teenage friends were so absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. And, yet, here they were.

And then, they all started talking. So easily. Conversation flowed, cigarettes were passed out and drinks were shared. James and Peter sat on the floor; Sirius leaned against the wall and the rest sat across the two benches. You stayed in the corner, admiring the plants. That was until you received a tap on the shoulder. You turned your head. Stood behind you was Remus Lupin, holding out a cig and lighter. 

“Oh, thank you,” you said, smiling softly as you placed the cigarette between your lips. You cupped the lighter with your hand as you lit it and then passed his lighter back to him.

“Not a fan of Sirius, then?” he asked, letting out a puff of smoke. He then turned to look at you. He had moved to stand next to you as he placed the lighter back into his trouser pocket. He must’ve discarded his blazer some point after your arrival because he was now left in just his shirt (which actually fit) and trousers. His trousers were a little bit too short but, you could only see it because of Williams's expert lessons in proper tailoring. 

“I think his head is a little bit too far up his own arse is all. I don’t dislike him.” you responded. Remus laughed a little, shaking his head. You blew out some smoke. You hadn’t managed to get your hands on a cigarette since before summer. Merlin, this was nice.

“I don’t think you’re the only one who thinks that. He’s alright - most of the time.” he replied, looking over at you once again. You had only just realised who you were talking to - his best friend. He didn’t really seem to mind. You decided to just play it off and hope for the best.

“We’ve never spoken before.” you said, so much for playing it off.

“No, we haven’t.”

“How do you know my name?”

“One of the Hufflepuff parties - I was sat with Alice. I was trying to help sober her up. You came over to take her to bed. I think I said she was fine - you said ‘And how would you know that? You don’t even know our names’. That was in 4th year.” he replied, letting out another cloudy exhale. You nodded, the memories coming flooding back to you. You laughed: a little embarrassed at your rudeness and a little impressed by how brash you had been.

“Yeah, I’m not the best when I’m tired. Sorry about that.” 

“No need to apologise - you were right. So, I made sure I knew your names after that. Plus, you always sat on the table across from us at lunch.”

“Oh. Hey - that’s my thing. I watch the other tables.” you replied, jokingly.

Remus chuckled lightly, nodding his head. “I’m sure you do.” he said, tilting his head.

“No, really. It’s how we found out Frank liked Alice, because he was always staring at her.” 

“That’s actually quite impressive.”

“North or South Wales?”

“What?” “Where are you from, north or south?” you asked, looking up at him. You took a small drag from the cigarette.

“North.”

“That’s where my grandma used to live! Sorry, I knew I recognised the northern accent.”

“Take it you’re from Northern England, then?”

“Northwest. Best place to be.”

“Home of the Beatles.”

You nodded and then smiled. “Who is your favourite?”

“George Harrison.” Remus replied, lifting an eyebrow at him. You’d placed such an emphasis on the question - which made it appear make or break for your conversation.

“Good choice, mines Ringo. Do you like music, then?”

“Can’t keep away from it.”

“Bowie?” “The best of the best.”

“HE IS! Hunky Dory is my favourite.” you exclaimed, a little over excitedly. Remus seemed genuinely interested in your music talk. Only one of your friends shared this interest; it was nice to have someone else to talk to about it.

“Ziggy Stardust for me. Hunk Dory is exceptional though.”

“You seem like the Ziggy Stardust type.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you like the Sex Pistols? Ooh, have you ever heard of Squeeze? Do you like the Clash? Blondie? The Jam? The Who?”

“Yes. No, but I’d be happy to listen. Yes, yes, yes and yes.”

You were resisting the temptation to scream. You looked up at him, jaw slack. Your eyes were quite literally sparkling. “Where have you been all this time?”

“At the table across from you.” he said, raising his eyebrows at you. You snorted and shook your head.

“I collect records. You’re more than welcome to borrow some.”

“I’m honoured. Would it be possible for me to listen to some with you?” he asked. His voice was soft and smooth. Your eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting with you or if he was being serious. 

“Depends on the album.” you said, deciding that was the best response. If he really was flirting with you - which you refused to believe he was - you had to tread carefully. You refused to let yourself forget he was a marauder. He was from the group who had terrorised teachers and students alike for the past 6 years going on 7. You looked up at him, nervously tapping your cigarette.

“Every album in your collection?” he asked, with a resided eyebrow. He now looked down at you. You were facing him with every part of yourself except your body. 

“I could make that happen. It might take months though.”

“Happily spent with you.”

“You don’t even know me, I could be secretly evil and that’s why I have a small group of friends.” you said, not being entirely serious. Remus laughed a little.

“Alice likes you.”

“Alice likes everyone.”

“And, I do know you.”

“How would that come to be?”

“Professor McGonagall. She’s making us work together on coursework this year. In her words ‘to bring that lovely little girl out of her shell. She’s so lovely but just too quiet! Especially when she’s in classes with your lot.’” he said, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stamping on it. “Oh, and I saw you taking the piss out of James in transfiguration before summer. That was funny.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I thought I was invisible to your lot.”

“You were to them. Not to me. I had a little competition going on with you in transfiguration and potions.”

“You always beat me in tests by a mark! It’s so annoying.”

“You noticed?”

“I was starting to think you did it on purpose.”

Remus laughed and shook his head. He dipped into his pocket again. You had just dropped your cigarette. You put it out with your foot. “You look really nice tonight, is what Sirius wanted to tell you before you called his bluff.” he said, finding his lighter and the pack of cigs.

“I don’t need to hear it from him. He’s far too short to give his opinion on my appearance.” you said, joking. Mostly. This sent Remus into a fit of hysterical giggles - interrupted by the occasional cough. You laughed a little at him. 

“I can cheers to that.” he said.

“How would all your girls compliment you then?”

“Oooh, low blow.”

“Alright, Casanova.” 

“I left that lifestyle behind in 5th year.”

“It was short-lived. May you rest in peace: Remus Lupin the Slag.” 

“You will not be missed.” Remus joked, shaking his head. He then moved to light another cigarette. He held it between his lips: inhale, exhale.

“It must’ve been fun though. And, you always have people being madly in love with you. I’m quite jealous really.”

“I’m sure more people take notice of you than you realise.”

“It's taken 6 years for most people to actually learn my name - I doubt it.”

“You’re very harsh on yourself.”

You shrugged, going slightly quiet. Remus felt a discomfort in the situation and knew the feeling well. He decided to change the subject.

“How has your summer been?” he asked, sounding genuine with interest. During your conversation with Remus, you noticed he was extremely genuine. Everything about him felt real. He truly seemed interested. It sent you into a spiral of disbelief; why did he care?

“Good, actually. Thank you for asking. I got to see a load of new bands because we went and stayed in Liverpool for a few days. It was mint. And, even better, I got to go visit the house where John Lennon used to stay with his Grandma in Blackpool. It was super cool. It did mean staying at my dad's though, which sucked a little - but you know, sacrifices.”

“Sounds, wonderful. I spent most of my summer staying with James.”

“Oh, really? Was it good? I met his mother and father - they were absolutely lovely. I wonder how they produced such a loud creature.” 

Remus laughed at your calling James a ‘creature’. In fact to Remus it appeared rather ironic that you were talking to him and referring to James as a ‘creature’. Remus was well aware that his scarred face and at times withered appearance were blatantly obvious. However, you didn’t seem to mind at all. “It was good.” he replied, smiling down at you. The memories of this summer truly did make Remus happy. Especially because all four had been practically attached at the hip all summer. The only reason they were at this ball was because Sirius’ parents wanted to appear kind and carling; like they hadn’t miscommunicated their own son. Sirius had only agreed to go if he could bring his friends.

“Wait, sorry, can we back track a little bit. McGonagall said we are going to be working on coursework together? Like for the N.E.W.Ts?” you asked, looking wildly confused.

“Yeah - she said we both had skills we could offer each other in our studying. It also meant I could stop Sirius and Pete from trying to copy my work.” he replied, nodding his head.

“Wow, that’s so random. I wonder why she put us two together?” “I have no idea,” Remus replied, letting go another inhale of smoke. You looked up at him. Silently, he held the cigarette out towards you. You smiled and whispered a small thank you. After two quick drags, you handed it back to Remus - who did the same. The pattern continued as your conversation progressed. 

The pair of you continued to discuss music and school. The conversation had then shifted to books and film. Both of you had a shared love for muggle classic literature and Star Wars - both of you couldn’t wait for the second film. Remus said his favourite was The Picture of Dorian Gray. You had agreed it was a good book, but your favourite remained as Pride and Prejudice. As your conversation changed, so did the two of you. You had moved to be sat on the floor, facing the daffodils. This left you with your back to the rest of the group. It all felt very refreshing. Soon, it dawned on you that Remus Lupin was by far one of the biggest nerds you had ever encountered. He was so popular and well loved, but so unbelievably uncool. It made you laugh a little bit. He was just like you. He passed the cigarette back to you, smiling over at you. “So, what else?” Remus asked.

Confused, you tilted your head. “What else?” you repeated back to him.

“What else have I missed about you?”

“I don’t know, 17 years is a lot to cover. What have I missed about you?”

He laughed a little, understanding it was a slightly stupid question. See, Remus never thought he’d have the opportunity to get to know you, let alone actually get along with you. You’d always appeared very closed off and shy - when you weren’t with your friends. It felt good to hear you speak at a normal volume. And, to making you smile felt the best (according to Remus that is). “What do you enjoy doing?” he asked, deciding this was a better way into getting to know you better.

“Reading, writing, going to gigs, listening to music.”

“You like to write?”

“Love it. Fiction and non-fiction. I love to write my own romance fiction. It makes me feel better about the absence of it in my own life,” you joked, rolling your eyes. You didn’t mean to appear pathetic, but it was hard to not be a little self deprecating at times. It kept you humble.

“Id love to read it some time. I quite like writing too.”

“You do?” “Yeah.”

You smiled, offering back the cigarette. He gladly took it. You took a moment to just look at him. His face, his eyes, his hair and his scars. You’d never really paid enough attention to them before. They looked sore. A part of you wondered what the cause was, and another part of you told you it was not your business. You knew Remus had been in one or two fights during his time at Hogwarts. However, it had never been anything serious enough to sustain injuries like those. You tried to push it to the back of your mind but, the curiosity continued to creep up. You drew your eyes away from his scars and instead to his eyes. You’d never seen anything like his. They were brown, but almost looked like honey. You were sure you could study them for years. If you were any good at art, Remus would definitely be your muse. His hair was a sandy brown too. Everything about him appeared to be soft apart from the harsh cuts over his body. He’d rolled up the long sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. You’d found yourself wanting to stare at his forearms. Albeit embarrassing, it was the first time you’d properly liked someone your own age. You’d only ever liked people who were in the years above. Something about this felt a little different: it wasn’t purely physical attraction. He was lovely to talk to, and he saw you. He saw you. That was rare. Looking over at you, Remus lifted an eyebrow.

“Where’d you just go?” he asked, turning to face you. He stretched out his legs and groaned a little, rubbing his knees. “Oh, just thinking. Are your knees okay? You sound like my mum after doing the gardening,” you hummed, laughing a little at your own joke. Remus shook his head, laughing a little too.

“You’re cruel. I just ache sometimes.” “It’s the lankiness. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“Probably.”

“Unless you have a secret double life.”

Remus thanked Merlin he didn’t have to answer that because James had pointed out the two of you being sat together. Everyone was now making kissing noises. You turned to him and rolled your eyes - he just laughed. It was nothing he wasn’t used to; his friends had always been like this. They continued their teasing until a noise came from the doors. Suddenly, all cigs were dropped and they pretended to be partaking in polite conversation. Much to your surprise, it was William calling your name. Remus stood up, standing on his cigarette. He offered his hand out to help you stand up. You took his offer, being particularly careful not to damage your dress. You smiled up at the tall boy. He smiled back. “I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

“I hope so too. You’ve got a lot of records to listen to” you replied, smiling wildly now. It all felt too good to be true. You turned and waved goodbye to everyone else before rushing off to find William.

You really did hope you would see him soon. He’d allowed you to forget where you were for the moment. He let you forget who you were. You felt important. 

[argumentl]

The last episode of TFOE!

Kaoru actually singing live on air!

It was Joe's birthday recently, so Kaoru and Tasai sang Happy Birthday. In reality, it was more like talking the lyrics, but still!! 😂

Kaoru also explained a bit about the music video for The Devil in Me. The members were filmed in front of a green screen, and the background is a mixture of AI and CG, with director Kondo still hard at work on the full video. This approach was decided upon through discussions between the members and Director Kondo. Kaoru said he was thinking about showcasing the full video had it been ready, but alas, it isn't ready yet.

They asked viewers to write questions about the mv in the comments. I asked what the meaning of all the pink was, Joe read this out, and Kaoru answered "Pink". They laughed at this...so did I!

For the main they did a TFOE quiz, with 5 questions about the first ever Niconama broadcast where Kaoru was dressed as Sweeny Todd (Flashbacks to my UK dentist nightmare 😂).

They then read out a few of the comments people had sent in about things they had graduated from. Following this, Kaoru was brought two trays full of prawn/shrimp dishes, since he recently 'graduated' from his dislike of shrimp. He happily tried them all.

To finish the free part, Kaoru mentioned that there are still quite a lot of tickets left for the Osaka dates of the upcoming tour, since this venue is quite large. Get your tickets everyone!!

[danwhobrowses]

Well Critters it's Bells Hells Live Show Day! That snuck up on us quickly didn't it? Felt almost like a few weeks ago that they announced it!

Alas, being across the pond (also tomorrow's Father's Day in the UK) I will have to wait for the VOD, sitting here with my usual Thursday night doses of anticipation, imagination and anxiety, but I hope all that are attending have a great night. So much can happen, so much stuff I want to happen too but ofc some things are long shots - anyone who looks at my feed can tell what I want to happen let's be honest, and there'll be dress up and whatever beyond extra entrance Sam has planned to make his anticipated and grandiose return.

So sing the intro loud, tag your live spoilers just in case, do creepy whispers if Laudna performs a Sending, tell them to stop it if they sneeze, and most of all enjoy the show!

[raapija]

OKAY, HERE WE GO FINALLY

So, let me introduce you to Nando's Nuggets aka his three little McChildren aka Carlito, Landito and baby Oscar 😘😘😘 (...aka the ultimate nepo baby trio of F1)

This kind of (I feel like this is a hedcanon more) belongs in the pookie au, go check it out ! ->

Huge thanks to everyone in my inbox for fueling this obsession 💚

Lando was a happy little accident born when Fernando was just 18. The relationship with Nando and Lando's mom, Ms. Norris, was pretty chaotic and turbulent and they ended up breaking up before he was even born. Lando stayed mostly with his dad and grew up as a grid-baby with other F1 drivers taking turns in babysitting him. He went through school in the UK since Nando kept his residence there most of the time and Lando got the English accent from there. He's always been around motorsport and it was just a matter of time before he would end up in F1.

Lando and Oscar grew up apart from each other, as Oscar was living in Australia. But whenever they were together while it was Nando's turn to have Oscar for a week or so, it was the highlight of their childhood. They got along well since they were pretty close in age and quite similar in other ways, too. Lando's mom wasn't around a lot when he was growing up, but as of lately, she has reached out to him again and is in good terms with the whole bunch.

✨✨✨

After Fernando separated from Landito's mom in the late nineties, he got together with this little known Aussie GT driver named Mark Webber. It was love at first sight and they had a really strong bond from the very start. They decided to get a kid together, which was wild since both were quite young and because of how difficult it was at the time for two men to get a child together. But, they somehow pulled through it and in April 2001, baby Oscar came along. (He is biologically Nando's through a surrogate) After a few quite happy years with this little family of two boys, Mark and Fernando eventually started to drift apart and the relationship fell flat. Through a mutual decision, they broke up and Oscar went off to live with Mark in Australia. Fernando still spent a lot of time with Oscar of course, but it was never enough. It was always sad to say good bye at the airport.

As time went on and Oscar grew older, he wanted to stay in the UK more. He got interested in karting like his two other brothers, and eventually moved over to try and make it into motorsport and connect better with Nando's side of the family. Mark was still very much around as he became Oscar's manager and pulled all kinds of stunts to get little Oscar in the best possible teams. Mark and Fernando are still very good friends and get along well. Oscar is definitely the most spoiled of them all.

✨✨✨

Carlos was an absolute menace and a troublemaker when he was young. When he was around 13-14, he took part in one of Nando's karting camps in Spain and that was really the only thing the kid was interested in. Later, tragically, Carlos would lose his parents in an accident and since he was such a difficult child, no one would take him in. But alas! Fernando heard about it and since he had seen how talented and passionate Carlos was about driving, he wanted to give him a chance and enrolled him into more karting classes at his own expense. Eventually, they became close and Fernando figured out since nobody else was gonna have him and the poor kid needed a proper home, he adopted him. Carlos immediately took the role of big brother to Lando and Oscar and would start to settle down since he now had a responsibility to be their role model. In time (and with lots of trial and error), Nando raised Carlos to be a sensible and well-adjusted young man who could safely be let out into the world knowing he was gonna be okay.

Carlos' protective nature over his little brothers and dad resulted in him beefing with Lance for years since he didn't exactly like the idea of his dad dating a guy who's four years younger than him. When Nando and Lance got married, it was finally enough proof that Lance wasn't going to leave and break his dad's heart like others had before. Now they're in good terms and Carlos thinks of him quite fondly, but will never admit it. Fernando is incredibly proud of how far Carlito has come and how he's now at Ferrari.

Lance has a pretty good relationship with the bunch overall despite Carlos' apprehensions. He often takes Lando or Oscar on fun trips and likes to hang out with them. Carlos sometimes asks Lance to go golfing with him since he can actually give him some competition.

It's strange for everyone that their step-dad is almost the same age as them (and younger, in Carlos' case), but somehow they make it work. He never actually considers himself to be a parental figure to them, more like a weird kinda fun uncle 🤷 It's weird, the whole family is weird, but they make it work. ❤️

Family portrait:

+This son inherited the magical powers:

[therealhousewifeofharrystyles]

Whatcha doin’, Step-Bro?

*Part 1*🔞

Pairing: Harry Styles // Y/N (Step-Sibling EU)

**READ PREQUEL HERE**🔞

**READ PART 2 HERE**🔞

Word Count: ~ 1k words

NSFW -> 18+ Readers Only!!🔞

🔞*Warnings*🔞: adult language, FILTHY masturbation(M), voyeurism/exhibitionism, taboo step-sibling dynamic

Reblogs/shares are welcome!!! Also, request away! My inbox is open!💕📥😇

Also-also, please like, comment, and follow! I can’t know whether you want more if you don’t show me 🥺👉👈 xoxo

💕💖 ~ R

“Sup, lil sis.” Harry says deeply in your ear, startling you as you’ve been washing dishes in the sink for a while now, having been completely alone in the kitchen. You jump out of instinct. “AHHH! Harry!” You gasp. You grab a towel to dry off your hands and then turn around to face him. A stupid smirk covers his stupid, cocky face, but you can’t help the low tingling you feel trickling down your abdomen and stopping at that special place between your legs.

Your parents—his mom and your dad—have been overseas in the UK attending a wedding on the Styles side of the family, leaving you and Harry at home to take care of the house and the cats.

You and Harry technically got along just fine. You made your parents assume so, at least. But behind closed doors, Harry was a constant pest. He’s always gone out of his way to antagonize you. Whether it was sneaking up to you and spooking the living hell out of you, or making gross, perverted comments that only you could hear, he loved to piss you off. You slowly got used to it over the past couple of years, learning that no response was the best response when it comes to Harry and his big mouth. However, sometimes it could be really hard to ignore him even a little bit.

It's been especially difficult for you as the two of you have spent way too much time alone in the house since your dad and step-mom left for the airport. They’ve been gone for only 2 out of their 10-day trip, but you were nearing your limits prematurely.

The first night, he bid his evening ado’s with, “Alright…I think it’s time that me and my three pretty pussies go to bed.” If you weren’t already used to his lewd language, you’d have kicked him in the balls right after the words left his mouth. But this time, you just sat there on the couch and stretched your arms up before picking up one of your cats and heading towards your bedroom. You acted unfazed.

Alas, Harry thought he was so funny. The following morning at around 11am, he called out your name from his bedroom. You were somewhat concerned by how late he’d slept in because he typically preferred to start his days early with an obnoxiously loud work out—beginning by running up and down the stairs and doing push-ups right outside your bedroom door for 10 minutes straight. The absence of your usual, unsolicited morning alarm was pleasant at first. You woke up gently instead of abruptly and you didn’t have to dodge out of Harry’s way when making a break for the bathroom across the hall. Everything was smooth-going. But that obviously began to feel odd…something wasn’t right…maybe Harry was sick, you thought. And surely enough, as you were thinking back to whether he’d touched any of your food within the past 24 hours, his voice echoed from his room, down the hall, and all the way down the stairs to where you were standing at the kitchen island.

“Y/NNN!!!”

What the hell?! Just when you thought you were gonna have a decent day without any interruptions…ugh!

You trudged up the stairs and knocked on his door. “Uh, Harry…?” You announced from the outside of the door. He then replied soon afterwards, “…Yeah…” It sounded like a groan, like he was in pain, or something. You’re squeamish around blood, so you were extremely hesitant to come to his rescue if he’d injured himself in any way. He could be a whiny little bastard, though. So if he’d gotten hurt, he would’ve been throwing much more of a hissy fit than a little groan. Wait…What if he hit his head?! You panicked due to your mind assuming the worst.

Slowly pushing open the door, you peeked inside to check on him. What you saw was not at all the image you were expecting. Not even remotely close. There he was, spread out with his covers pushed down to his feet, his eyes shut and lips parted. One hand was resting on his chest as the other slicked itself up and down his naked length. It was all slippery and shiny. Each stroke made this filthy, wet, snapping sound. It looked as though he’d been at it for a while, as his cock looked painfully hard and his pace was agonizing. He looked to have been edging for the past 2 hours, at least. You just stood there and watched him. It was as if your legs wouldn’t allow you to leave that spot. Your eyes just devoured him in all his vulnerability—studying his rhythm, the noises he made, and the way his tattooed chest, arms, and abdomen flexed sporadically. He was beautiful. Not only was he mesmerizing to watch, but his pants and moans sent electric currents through your lower stomach. You felt sensitive. Similarly to the way the head of Harry’s gorgeous cock throbbed, so did your hidden clit.

His pace grew more desperate, more intentional, more calculated—no longer was he just lazily jerking off. He wanted to cum. Before you could even realize how much time had passed by with you just gawking at him at the doorway, his eyes blinked open and he looked right at you. He was already well-aware of your presence. He knowingly invited you to his little show. It was like he was holding it in for hours just to save it all for you. As his eyes locked onto yours, they refused to break contact. His brow furrowed with intense pleasure and he moaned out, “…Fuuuck…”

You were frozen in place. It wouldn’t even matter if you could move and get the hell out of there because you’d already witnessed it all. Well, almost. Harry’s breathing quickened and so did his sliding fist. He was close.

“…ah, shit…I’m gonna cum…I’m…I’m gonna cum, baby…”

A whimper escaped your lips and your thighs clamped together. The little noises he made merged together into one solid string of groans and profanities, his hips thrusting up to fuck his hand roughly as ropes of white cum spurted out of his cock and all over him. He kept cumming until his body shook from overstimulation, his eyes slowly flickering back and forth between you and his hand throughout the entire finale.

A giant smirk washed over his face after he’d taken his fingers and swiped up some of the warm, sticky cum that coated his glossy skin. He held his hand up as if to gesture an offering towards you and spoke, “…Wanna taste?” Your eyes widened, and you felt the skin of your cheeks heat up. You’d just been a voyeur to your step-brother’s morning masturbation session. To say you were humiliated would be an understatement. How would you ever live this one down? How could you ever live something like this down?

You had no clue what to say to him, what to do at that moment. And so you just pulled his door to a slamming close and bolted down the stairs and out the door. You got in your car and drove to the mall. Retail therapy seemed distracting enough for you to temporarily forget about what just fucking happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read Part 2 Here

Oofta🥵 well, you know what to do! Let me know what you wanna read next, if you want more parts, or something completely different. Just give it to me, baby 😜😘

xo - Regan

Also—pls follow me, as well as @harrystylessmuttyfics where @victoria-styles and I are creating a deliciously smutty collection of Harry writings just for you 😘😏 xoxo

[eybefioro]

Weekly fic rec, by yours truly...

Especial edition: BELOVED WIPS!

Hm. I should probably take out the "weekly" part of my fic recs lol I haven't been able to keep it weekly. The recs actually take a fair amount of time and mental space because I enjoy going in depth in what I feel/think, and these past few weeks have been 💫chaotic💫. But alas. I still want to share fic recs. Maybe I'll call them random fic recs or something. I'll see.

Anyways. Until now, I haven't recommended many longer fics (I have trouble being succinct and on point with fics, I ramble a lot. With longer ones it's even worse... how could I fit in a few paragraphs the experience when there's so MUCH to talk about?) and WIPs which is a crime. So this time I will rec 3 WIPs I'm following!! You have a 100% chance of finding me screaming in the comments of these works, bc they're truly marvelous!

Drive me to the moon by CaptainBlou and Elenthya

Rated E, ~23k words (for now!)

My tags: captivating, sweet, emotional

Summary:

At GOMENS, world-renowned sports brand and sponsor, one takes pride in endorsing the UK’s most talented athletes. On the other hand, one would like to ignore the fact that their two top of the bill, Aziraphale and Crowley, have heartily hated each other since the day they met. But what should be expected, when one knows these two? Aziraphale is a professional dancer, Crowley a rally driver. While the former switches between fierce competitions and prestigious stages, the other goes from one track to another across the world, clearing out every prize from behind the wheel of his racing car. Two beings, two worlds, two universes that everything should keep apart. But an unprecedented charity event is getting set up at GOMENS, and quickly, their own athletes will have to compete with and assist each other in turns. Two worlds, two personalities. But if they want to run for a cause that matters to the both of them, Crowley and Aziraphale are going to have to find an Arrangement.

THIS FIC. HAS ME ON CHOKEHOLD. I love it so much. I'm loving to read Crowley and Aziraphale finding eachother because they want to win a race. I didn't know I needed racer!crowley in my life, but I needed it. And the fact that they're nb speaks to me on another level. It is good to read a nb character being a loved, successful, and charismatic racer. And that doesn't mean they don't go through shit, and @captainblou addresses it wonderfully. And dancer!Aziraphale is so... amazing and human, honestly. I love the conflict he has between his craft/skills and his own perception of self. How he puts effort into being confident and brave despite his own hangups. Look, Blou's writing is a joy. It is really so good and emotional, and - I will stop now, JUST GO READ IT AND YOU'LL UNDERSTAND. The characters feel real and alive. Also!!! ALSO I CANT FORGET. THIS FIC HAS ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AMAZING @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist . Her art is so good 😭😭😭 I can't begin to describe it.

Love As A Hallway And Several Novelty Mugs by holyflyingswisscheese

Rated T, ~25k words (for now!)

My tags: funny, light and sweet

Summary:

“You’re not…” Aziraphale trailed off warily, glancing at the hallway behind Crowley. Crowley nodded in grim confirmation. “E-33. Just next door,” he said with a sigh, motioning to his classroom a few paces down the hallway. “We’re fucking neighbours.” ... Science Teacher Crowley and English Teacher Aziraphale have hated each other for years, kept sane only by the distance separating Aziraphale's English classroom from Crowley's lab. When all that is undone because of renovations in the Science block, Crowley ends up placed right next to Aziraphale for the upcoming school year. What will it take to shatter the reasons behind their resentment and make them realise just how wrong they've been about each other?

I love @howmanyholesinswisscheese writing so much. The way he describes the feelings, the ambience, the setting is so lively, heartfelt. He says he doesn't write poetry, but he goes poetic so FAST. There's a paragraph in chapter 5 about Aziraphale's crow feet and laughter that just... is so beautiful. And this fic is so funny!!! I love how they bicker and are reluctant to share space but end up finding middle ground. How Aziraphale really tries to extend an olive branch and succeeds... how their friendship blossoms. It's such a good read, and so light and fluffy. I love it sm.

Sky Clear Blue by klikandtuna

Rated E, ~23k words (for now!)

My tags: enchanting, curious, emotional

Summary:

The collaborative brainchild of myself and @suzypfonne! This human AU features time travel/fuckery, neurodivergent Tenth-Doctor-coded Crowley, closeted Regency-era Aziraphale, lots of familiar faces, humor, angst, and FUN (both innocent and steamy). Join me on a new adventure! New chapters will be posted every Tuesday and Friday! (No, really. I promise.) Cover art by me 💛 (The Dream Team is back — myself writing, @suzypfonne beta-reading, and @sparkyshinymagpie coding the social-media conversations)

The first fic I've read of @klikandtuna was find the light (a recently finished wip! So double rec!) and it was delightful – such a hopeful story! So I was super excited to this one and let me tell you... it is so AMAZING. Really. The descriptions are magical, the concept is so interesting. I'm so curious to see we're this is going! I love how colourful Crowley is in this (as the author said to me, he has a lot from starmaker!crowley) while still being Crowley... and Aziraphale is caught in so many conflicts. Gosh I am so excited for the next chapters. Go read it!!!

These fics have been a source of joy for me 💛 reading them one chapter at time for some reason makes them even more special in my heart.