#and canada promised them food.

[erving-goffman]

okay also craziest thing i learned today is that when people talk about unceded indigenous territories in canada they can mean 1) literally unceded territories where no treaty was ever signed 2) land for which treaties were signed but where indigenous peoples were misled because there's no concept of "cession" in their languages (they thought they were exchanging shared usage for services). but legally the land IS ceded. and that's most of the land out in the prairies and ontario

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Beating the Allegations

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A compilation of Colby and Y/N being far too obvious with their feelings for one another for the entire world to see. Basically, a YouTube documentation spanning several channels that marks the history of this goofy relationship

"It's fucking nighttime already, dude! We're running two hours behind schedule!" Sam complains through a smile, shaking his head at Colby who's trailing behind him with bags full of snacks. "All because someone spent those two hours scouring a store!

They're currently in Canada following the filming of a couple investigations for Hell Week with Kris and Celina. As Sam said, they were supposed to be two hours along the road back home already - a very tiny portion of their roadtrip back, seeing as how they didn't get to buy plane tickets on time. So, they settled for a two day roadtrip and the adventure it would bring on.

Colby, not at all bothered by Sam's accusations, smiles at the camera, "I promised Y/N I'd bring back signature Canadian snacks for her. There is no chance in hell I go home empty-handed. She'd kill me." As if to prove he is serious about his quest, he lifts the two heavy looking bags for the camera to get a better shot of them.

Sam's smile falters, replaced by a highly offended frown, "So you're telling me we're not gonna eat any of those snack on the road?" Colby - folding with laughter, mind you - shakes his head. "Are you fucking ki-...."

* * * * *

"I'm almost done!" Y/N calls out from her spot in front of the mirror where she's been stuck for the past thirty minutes trying to even out her winged liner.

A groan comes from a far distance but is still picked up by her phone microphone and is heard by the audience of Y/N's Instagram live, "You keep saying that!"

Not ten seconds later, the door is thrown open, provoking a laugh from the girl. She lowers her hand and takes her attention away from her reflection to pay her roommate proper acknowledgement. "Give me a second, sheesh! Can't a girl make herself pretty in peace?"

Although he never enters the frame fully, the live chat is already flowing with cheers of Colby's name. Whether it was wishful thinking or an educated guess on their part is a mystery. Regardless, they're entirely correct, their suspicions confirmed when they hear his voice and see his arm come into frame, his hand cupping Y/N's chin to tilt up her face.

"You're always pretty." He says, causing her to roll her eyes. At that, he boops her nose with his pointer finger before withdrawing his arm, "You have five minutes to wrap things up."

Y/N's gaze lingers on him until he's out of sight. She shakes her head and catches the camera's eye in the mirror reflection, "The audacity on that man. Tsk

* * * * *

@_y/n_dragonfly Fuck Valentine's Day @_colbybrock

Needless to say, the comments went wild, running with this post on Y/N's Instagram as unofficial proof of the ship the fandom seems to hold so near and dear to their hearts.

Hope dies last, after all. Maybe one day their ship might set-sail.

* * * * *

"Ok, so, update..." Colby chuckles, looking away from the camera he's currently holding blogging style to make sure he doesn't trip on anything, "We were supposed to go grab food before starting the investigation, but then...." He flips the camera to show the backyard of the abandoned house they'll be exploring tonight, "Y/N found a trampoline in the backyard."

As the camera focuses, both Sam and Y/N come into clear view - the former laughing at the latter who's too busy to care. She's too occupied having the time of her life on this raggedy looking trampoline, reveling in childlike joy as she hops around.

Colby sets the camera on the tripod Sam had left nearby, wanting to capture this wholesome moment, even if it didn't make it into the final cut of the video. Though he doesn't see why it wouldn't.

After adjusting the camera, he turns to find Sam has joined Y/N on the trampoline, far more hesitant than she is, though.

"You guys are ridiculous." He remarks as he approaches them, shaking his head with a bright smile on his face.

Y/N lands on her knees so she can be at least halfway at eye-level with her friend, offering him a beckoning hand, "Come be ridiculous too. Don't be a bore."

Colby scoffs and rolls his eyes. Still, he accepts her hand but instead of using it for support to climb up to join his friends on the trampoline, he tugs on it. Y/N lets out a little yelp as she's enveloped in his arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, unwilling to have a rather unpleasant encounter with the ground.

"Colby! Put me down!!" Put her down he most certainly doesn't, instead opting to spin her while securely holding her in his arms, eliciting mock terror-filled screams from her.

Eventually, he does get persuaded into joining her and Sam on the trampoline.

And the whole fiasco eventually makes it into the final cut and onto the internet.

And, inevitably, in edits.

* * * * *

It's an innocent, wholesome TikTok they filmed in the garden of the Conjuring house. Yes, the Conjuring house, no biggie.

Sam is the cameraman who much to his relief didn't even need to orchestrate anything. He just pressed the record button on his phone to capture the tomfoolery going on. The lighting is perfect, provided by the few remaining rays of sunlight before dark befell them. A little lighthearted fun was more than needed before they'd have to go back in the house to chat with spirits for the night.

The video captures Y/N in her natural element - dancing goofily with the pair of headphones they use for the Estes method on her head. The caption under the video reads: 'When the spirits drop a sick beat' and is quite the perfect depiction of the trio's dynamic.

Sam documenting the chaos. Y/N being the chaos. And Colby observing her chaos with heart-eyes from the sidelines.

Although Sam hadn't originally noticed his best friend's awed gaze accidentally captured in the video, the fans most definitely noticed. And, as per usual, they ran with it.

*sigh* These two are never beating the allegations.

@benbarnesprettygurl @jessy-shine @mushycore @richardsamboramylove55 @smuttiest-smuttt @honey-bees-13 @rei-ito

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Pizzaburger Presidency

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

The corporate wing of the Democrats has objectively terrible political instincts, because the corporate wing of the Dems wants things that are very unpopular with the electorate (this is a trait they share with the Republican establishment).

Remember Hillary Clinton's unimaginably terrible campaign slogan, "America is already great?" In other words, "Vote for me if you believe that nothing needs to change":

https://twitter.com/HillaryClinton/status/758501814945869824

Biden picked up the "This is fine" messaging where Clinton left off, promising that "nothing would fundamentally change" if he became president:

https://www.salon.com/2019/06/19/joe-biden-to-rich-donors-nothing-would-fundamentally-change-if-hes-elected/

Biden didn't so much win that election as Trump lost it, by doing extremely unpopular things, including badly bungling the American covid response and killing about a million people.

Biden's 2020 election victory was a squeaker, and it was absolutely dependent on compromising with the party's left wing, embodied by the Warren and Sanders campaigns. The Unity Task Force promised – and delivered – key appointments and policies that represented serious and powerful change for the better:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/10/thanks-obama/#triangulation

Despite these excellent appointments and policies, the Biden administration has remained unpopular and is heading into the 2024 election with worryingly poor numbers. There is a lot of debate about why this might be. It's undeniable that every leader who has presided over a period of inflation, irrespective of political tendency, is facing extreme defenstration, from Rishi Sunak, the far-right prime minister of the UK, to the relentlessly centrist Justin Trudeau in Canada:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-05-29-three-barriers-biden-reelection/

It's also true that Biden has presided over a genocide, which he has been proudly and significantly complicit in. That Trump would have done the same or worse is beside the point. A political leader who does things that the voters deplore can't expect to become more popular, though perhaps they can pull off less unpopular:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/the-left-is-not-joe-bidens-problem

Biden may be attracting unfair blame for inflation, and totally fair blame for genocide, but in addition to those problems, there's this: Biden hasn't gotten credit for the actual good things he's done:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FoflHnGrCpM

Writing in his newsletter, Matt Stoller offers an explanation for this lack of credit: the Biden White House almost never talks about any of these triumphs, even the bold, generational ones that will significantly alter the political landscape no matter who wins the next election:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/why-does-the-biden-white-house-hate

Biden's antitrust enforcers have gone after price-fixing in oil, food and rent – the three largest sources of voter cost-of-living concern. They've done more on these three kinds of crime than all of their predecessors over the past forty years, combined. And yet, Stoller finds example after example of White House press secretaries being lobbed softballs by the press and refusing to even try to swing at them. When asked about any of this stuff, the White House demurs, refusing to comment.

The reasons they give for this is that they don't want to mess up an active case while it's before the courts. But that's not how this works. Yes, misstatements about active cases can do serious damage, but not talking about cases extinguishes the political will needed to carry them out. That's why a competent press secretary excellent briefings and training, because they must talk about these cases.

Think for a moment about the fact that the US government is – at this very moment – trying to break up Google, the largest tech company in the history of the world, and there has been virtually no press about it. This is a gigantic story. It's literally the biggest business story ever. It's practically a secret.

Why doesn't the Biden admin want to talk about this very small number of very good things it's doing? To understand that, you have to understand the hollowness of "centrist" politics as practiced in the Democratic Party.

The Democrats, like all political parties, are a coalition. Now, there are lots of ways to keep a coalition together. Parties who detest one another can stay in coalition provided that each partner is getting something they want out of it – even if one partner is bitterly unhappy about everything else happening in the coalition. That's the present-day Democratic approach: arrest students, bomb Gaza, but promise to do something about abortion and a few other issues while gesturing with real and justified alarm at Trump's open fascism, and hope that the party's left turns out at the polls this fall.

Leaders who play this game can't announce that they are deliberately making a vital coalition partner miserable and furious. Instead, they insist that they are "compromising" and point to the fact that "everyone is equally unhappy" with the way things are going.

This school of politics – "Everyone is angry at me, therefore I am doing something right" – has a name, courtesy of Anat Shenker-Osorio: "Pizzaburger politics." Say half your family wants burgers for dinner and the other half wants pizza: make a pizzaburger and disappoint all of them, and declare yourself to be a politics genius:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/17/pizzaburgers/

But Biden's Pizzaburger Presidency doesn't disappoint everyone equally. Sure, Biden appointed some brilliant antitrust enforcers to begin the long project of smashing the corporate juggernauts built through forty years of Reaganomics (including the Reganomics of Bill Clinton and Obama). But his lifetime federal judicial appointments are drawn heavily from the corporate wing of the party's darlings, and those judges will spend the rest of their lives ruling against the kinds of enforcers Biden put in charge of the FTC and DoJ antitrust division:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/judge-rules-for-microsoft-mergers

So that's one reason that Biden's comms team won't talk about his most successful and popular policies. But there's another reason: schismogenesis.

"Schismogenesis" is a anthropological concept describing how groups define themselves in opposition to their opponents (if they're for it, we're against it). Think of the liberals who became cheerleaders for the "intelligence community" (you know the CIA spies who organized murderous coups against a dozen Latin American democracies, and the FBI agents who tried to get MLK to kill himself) as soon as Trump and his allies began to rail against them:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

Part of Trump's takeover of conservativism is a revival of "the paranoid style" of the American right – the conspiratorial, unhinged apocalyptic rhetoric that the movement's leaders are no longer capable of keeping a lid on:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/16/that-boy-aint-right/#dinos-rinos-and-dunnos

This stuff – the lizard-people/Bilderberg/blood libel/antisemitic/Great Replacement/race realist/gender critical whackadoodlery – was always in conservative rhetoric, but it was reserved for internal communications, a way to talk to low-information voters in private forums. It wasn't supposed to make it into your campaign ads:

https://www.statesman.com/story/news/politics/elections/2024/05/27/texas-republicans-adopts-conservative-wish-list-for-the-2024-platform/73858798007/

Today's conservative vibe is all about saying the quiet part aloud. Historian Rick Perlstein calls this the "authoritarian ratchet": conservativism promises a return to a "prelapsarian" state, before the country lost its way:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-05-29-my-political-depression-problem/

This is presented as imperative: unless we restore that mythical order, the country is doomed. We might just be the last generation of free Americans!

But that state never existed, and can never be recovered, but it doesn't matter. When conservatives lose a fight they declare to be existential (say, trans bathroom bans), they just pretend they never cared about it and move on to the next panic.

It's actually worse for them when they win. When the GOP repeals Roe, or takes the Presidency, the Senate and Congress, and still fails to restore that lost glory, then they have to find someone or something to blame. They turn on themselves, purging their ranks, promise ever-more-unhinged policies that will finally restore the state that never existed.

This is where schismogenesis comes in. If the GOP is making big, bold promises, then a shismogenesis-poisoned liberal will insist that the Dems must be "the party of normal." If the GOP's radical wing is taking the upper hand, then the Dems must be the party whose radical wing is marginalized (see also: UK Labour).

This is the trap of schismogenesis. It's possible for the things your opponents do to be wrong, but tactically sound (like promising the big changes that voters want). The difference you should seek to establish between yourself and your enemies isn't in promising to maintaining the status quo – it's in promising to make better, big muscular changes, and keeping those promises.

It's possible to acknowledge that an odious institution to do something good – like the CIA and FBI trying to wrongfoot Trump's most unhinged policies – without becoming a stan for that institution, and without abandoning your stance that the institution should either be root-and-branch reformed or abolished altogether.

The mere fact that your enemy uses a sound tactic to do something bad doesn't make that tactic invalid. As Naomi Klein writes in her magnificent Doppelganger, the right's genius is in co-opting progressive rhetoric and making it mean the opposite: think of their ownership of "fake news" or the equivalence of transphobia with feminism, of opposition to genocide with antisemitism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

Promising bold policies and then talking about them in plain language at every opportunity is something demagogues do, but having bold policies and talking about them doesn't make you a demagogue.

The reason demagogues talk that way is that it works. It captures the interest of potential followers, and keeps existing followers excited about the project.

Choosing not to do these things is political suicide. Good politics aren't boring. They're exciting. The fact that Republicans use eschatological rhetoric to motivate crazed insurrectionists who think they're the last hope for a good future doesn't change the fact that we are at a critical juncture for a survivable future.

If the GOP wins this coming election – or when Pierre Poilievre's petro-tories win the next Canadian election – they will do everything they can to set the planet on fire and render it permanently uninhabitable by humans and other animals. We are running out of time.

We can't afford to cede this ground to the right. Remember the clickbait wars? Low-quality websites and Facebook accounts got really good at ginning up misleading, compelling headlines that attracted a lot of monetizable clicks.

For a certain kind of online scolding centrist, the lesson from this era was that headlines should a) be boring and b) not leave out any salient fact. This is very bad headline-writing advice. While it claims to be in service to thoughtfulness and nuance, it misses out on the most important nuance of all: there's a difference between a misleading headline and a headline that calls out the most salient element of the story and then fleshes that out with more detail in the body of the article. If a headline completely summarizes the article, it's not a headline, it's an abstract.

Biden's comms team isn't bragging about the administration's accomplishments, because the senior partners in this coalition oppose those accomplishments. They don't want to win an election based on the promise to prosecute and anti-corporate revolution, because they are counter-revolutionaries.

The Democratic coalition has some irredeemably terrible elements. It also has elements that I would march into the sun for. The party itself is a very weak institution that's bad at resolving the tension between both groups:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/30/weak-institutions/

Pizzaburgers don't make anyone happy and they're not supposed to. They're a convenient cover for the winners of intraparty struggles to keep the losers from staying home on election day. I don't know how Biden can win this coming election, but I know how he can lose it: keep on reminding us that all the good things about his administration were undertaken reluctantly and could be jettisoned in a second Biden administration.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/29/sub-bushel-comms-strategy/#nothing-would-fundamentally-change

[asunsetgrace16]

✧ …𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗔𝗗, 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗬 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘⎥𝗖𝗕98

Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!Crosby!reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Connor and Y/N Crosby, Sidney's daughter, are in a secret relationship and are outed when she goes to the All Stars with her dad

Notes: The italics section is the flashback to how Connor and Y/N met. This is my new longest fic, and man I got carried away writing how Y/N and Connor met. Not really proofread, so hope for the best. Requested by anonymous.

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 2.3k

It’s not exactly unexpected, for Connor Bedard and Y/N Crosby to be dating. His childhood idol, her father. Their lives are interconnected by a web of hockey players, former teammates, and friendships a mile deep. But, the caveat is, no one actually knows they are together. 

Y/N knew her dad would lose his mind when he found out who exactly her boyfriend is. From the time she was old enough to date, the rule was no hockey players, absolutely no teammates, and especially no rookies. Will he find out? Eventually, but not any time soon if Y/N has anything to say about it.

-

“I have tickets to most of the Canadian games, and I want to watch them win gold, in person. I was planning on going to the condo. No Dad, I'm fine. No, you don’t need to have Auntie Taylor come with me. I’m absolutely taking advantage of the fact that we have a place right where the World Juniors are happening. I’m seventeen for God’s sake, and I’ve been fairly independent for years. I’ll be fine.” Y/N says, on the phone with her dad. 

“I know, but you’re still my little girl. I’ll always want to protect you, no matter how old you get.” her dad, Sidney, says.

“I know dad, but this will be good practice for when I’m away at university.” She tells him teasingly.

“Uhhhg, don’t remind me.” he groans, “I trust you not to burn the place down, and try not to go overboard, with anything. The credit card for food and stuff is in the safe, and you have your own for anything else. Call me, if you need anything.”

“Thanks dad, I will.”

“Love you honey.”

Love you too, dad. Bye.”

There, that’s settled, Y/N thinks to herself. She is already in Cole Harbour, staying with her grandparents for Christmas. They already know her plans, and she convinced –not that she needed any convincing– her aunt Taylor to come with her for a girls trip. She flips her laptop open, hits play on Downton Abbey, and finishes her packing. 

“Tay, are you ready yet?” Y/N calls a few hours later. She hefts her suitcase down the stairs, shouldering a backpack.

“Yeah bug, just put my bags in the car. Bring yours out here too.” Taylor replies, “We can be on the road in twenty if we hurry.”

“Make it fifteen.” Y/N challenges with a grin.

The preliminary round of the tournament passes fast. After the shocking Game 1 loss, Canada bounces back and plows through every game afterwards. An exciting quarterfinals win against Slovakia has Canada set to play USA in the semifinals. A match up that always promises an electric game.

After the quarterfinal game, Y/N and Taylor head back to the dressing rooms and player’s entrance for a shortcut to the parking lot. They both have access, thanks to Sid. They talk excitedly about Bedard’s OT winner, a wicked 3-on-1 goal. 

“That was incredible.” Y/N exclaims. She’s no stranger to good hockey, but seeing a player that young, one her own age, to have such amazing talent is unreal to see. 

“Yes it was-” Taylor starts, but is cut off by a man in a suit stalking towards them.

“Hey! You two aren’t allowed back here. Players and staff only. Who do you think you are? Waltzing around here like you own the place? No respect anymore.” He rants before someone grabs him, pulling him away from Y/N and Taylor.

“I am so sorry about Randy. I’m Jim, by the way.” Jim apologizes, “I’m assuming that since you’re back here, you have permission. Is there something I can do to make it up to you? Wait, you’re Crosby’s daughter, aren't you? This makes a lot more sense now.”

“Yes I am, and we have permission. I can’t think of anything, it’s not necessary.” Y/N says. But Jim is determined, knowing who she is now. He offers to introduce the women to the team. They agree, and after Jim explains the situation to Randy, they all head back towards Canada’s dressing room. Talking the whole way, Jim explains that the team has a place rented for the tournament where the boys can hang out and relax. 

“If you’d like to join us, you are more than welcome. I won’t tell them who you are, I’ll let that happen naturally.” Jim says with a wink. “I want to see the look on their faces. It’s too bad your dad couldn't make it. That would really blow their socks off.” The group laughs and waits for Randy to make sure all the guys are decent, and beacons them in with a sheepish look, apologizing once again. The introduction is basic, no announcement or anything. Taylor and Y/N meet the rest of the staff first, quickly becoming engrossed in conversation. 

“So,” the head coach says, “Crosby’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you.” Y/N replies.

“Coach, did you just say Crosby's daughter? She's here? Holy shit!” one of the players exclaims, joining their little group. “I’m Brandt, nice to meet you. Is your dad here, by chance?” He says, very quickly. The energy rolls right off of him.

“No, he’s not, unfortunately. West Coast road trip.” Y/N says, failing to hide a giggle. 

“Wanna mess with the guys with me?” Brandt asks, a scheming look on his face.

“Always.”

“Ok, I’m going to introduce you around, but not mention your last name. I want to see how long it takes the guys to figure out who you are.”

“Oh I like that.” They grin at each other, and make their way around the room. Before long, the whole team is standing or sitting close together, chatting with Y/N. The adrenaline can still be felt in the dressing room. 

“So how long are you in town for?” Dylan asks, “Hopefully long enough to watch us win gold.”

Y/N and Brandt exchange a look, “I’m planning on it. I don’t have to be back in Pittsburgh until the tenth.”

“Pittsburgh? You came all the way up here, to watch a Canadian team win? That makes no sense.” Logan wonders, looking confused.

“Oh I’m Canadian, I just live in Pittsburg with my dad. I was up visiting my grandparents for Christmas.” Y/N says. It is getting awfully difficult to keep a straight face. 

“Where do your grandparents live?” That comes from Olen.

“Cole Harbour.”

“Does that mean you've met Sidney Crosby?” Ethan asks. 

“Yup, see him all the time.” She bites back a smile. Brandt has to turn around and take a deep, shuddering breath so he doesn’t give them away. Connor sees him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Wait, you’re Y/N Crosby!” Connor says, standing up just as Y/N and Brandt burst out laughing. The rest of the boys look shocked as the two struggle to stop laughing. Connor grins, chuckling as Y/N wipes honest-to-goodness tears from her eyes. The staff and Taylor laugh amongst themselves, watching the young folks. 

“Guilty as charged.” She says breathlessly, silently wondering if Brandt is going to die of oxygen deprivation at this point. His face is pretty red. Now the questions are really flowing by the time Brandt finally regains some composure. The excited chatter doesn’t stop at the restaurant, either. Y/N and Taylor are invited to stay. As the evening winds down, Y/N finds herself with Connor, conversation flowing easily. 

“Nice goal, by the way. Dad was impressed.” Y/N says, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“Really?” Connor flushes. Cute.

“Yeah, he sees a lot in you.”

“That is…I have no words.” He admits. “Do you, um, do you think you’d want to sit with my family for the rest of the games? I want to talk to you more, and um…I’m just going to stop talking before I make a fool out of myself.”

“I’d love to.”

Connor and Y/N spend a lot of time together in the following days. She sits with his family during the final, and celebrates with them after they win gold.

“We did it!” Connor shouts, picking Y/N up and spinning her around. There is a moment when he sets her down where her arms are still on his shoulders and his hands are on her waist. The noise fades away, just the two of them in a little bubble. “Can I have your number? I’d like to keep talking to you, and take you out sometime.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” She replies.

-

Now, over a year and 10 months into dating later, Connor and Y/N are both in Toronto for the All Stars. 

“Hey baby.” Connor says, putting his phone away when Y/N slips into the empty visitors dressing room.

“Hey Con.” She goes to him easily, settling comfortably into his open arms. He puts his chin on her head and tightens his hold on her. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too.” She tips her head up, meeting Connor in the middle for a sweet kiss. They go back to their hug, Y/N tucked against his chest, feeling warm again in the cold arena. They simply stand like that, swaying gently and soaking up the moment. They get so wrapped up in each other that they fail to hear voices outside the door. Connor goes to kiss Y/N again, but is interrupted by the door slamming open. Their heads snap to the door, wide eyed and scared.

“Y/N ANNA CROSBY. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” Sidney yells furiously, steam practically shooting from his ears like a cartoon character. Nate is standing close behind him, and Cale, Mathew Barzal, and Brady Tkachuk stand in the doorway. Connor and Y/N take a step back from each other, but keep their hands tightly clasped.

“How dare you not tell me about this. You know the rules, I expect you to follow them.”

“I-” She begins.

“And you,” Sid says, pointing at Connor, “I expected better from you. You’re a good kid, but I have rules for a reason.” Y/N grips Connor’s hand, squeezing three times. 

“You can’t control me like this, Dad. I’ve never had a real relationship because of you. So much of my life is wrapped up in hockey that it was easy to find my person there, and if it wasn’t a hockey-playing boyfriend, it was a hockey fan boyfriend which is worse. All they ever wanted to talk about was you, they never wanted me for who I am. Or you just plain scared them off because ‘no one is good enough for my daughter so why should she even bother’.” Y/N says back to him. Her chest is heaving and she is fighting off tears. 

“I can’t believe that you didn’t tell me this. How long have you two been together anyways?” Sid asks, still pissed off.

“Ten months.” Connor replies, voice strong and true despite the situation. He is nervous, of course, but he loves Y/N too much to let his childhood idol have much of an impact.

“TEN MONTHS!” Sid exclaims, incredulous that his daughter kept this secret, “Bloody hell. What possessed you to keep this from me?”

“This exact reaction that I knew would happen. I knew that if I told you when Connor first asked me out, you would flat-out forbid me to see him, and that wouldn’t have ended the way you wanted anyway. At least this way the two of us can act as a united front and you can see that this isn’t bad. We are both 18, legal adults. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Sid stays silent. He is still angry, but the figurative steam has gone away. Nate and the others hover around the door.

Y/N continues, “I get it, Dad. You just want to protect me, and I love you for it. But I’m not a little kid anymore, I can’t be sheltered forever. And Connor’s good to me. You know he would be.” She takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew that if I did, you would react exactly the way you are. I wanted to be able to figure out my relationship without my dad looking over my shoulder the whole time.”

Sid’s face falls at her monologue. He can finally understand what Y/N was trying to say for years. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I had no intention for it to go that far. It is hard to watch you grow up, but I need to grow up some too and understand that you are an adult now. In my attempts to protect you, I drove you straight into what I always knew would happen. Thankfully, you picked a good one.” Sid pulls his daughter into a hug, tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, it wasn’t fair of me.”

“Thanks dad, for apologizing. I know you meant well, but I don’t think this wasn’t the best way to get you to see my side of it” Y/N quips, a wry smile on her face. 

“I’m still pissed that you didn’t tell me, but I’d rather it was you than a lot of other guys” Sid states, reaching out to shake Connor’s hand, “but if you hurt her, I have a lot of power in this game.”

“I know,” Connor says, eyes focused on Y/N. A look so full of love even Sidney can’t deny it, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Awwww.” The trio looks up to see the other four guys with their hands clasped over their hearts, cute pouts on their lips. 

“The babies are in love.” Cale says with a grin.

[macfrog]

mile high sex on fire chapter three

we're going overseas baby! (this is gonna be a three-parter cause i hyperfixated and couldn't stop myself so BUCKLE UP) author's note: i absolutely do NOT condone the use of private jets. they are GROSS and terrible for the environment and just fucking fly commerical ok? but in this ceo!joel ficland, private jets are fuelled by delusion and emit only clean, pure oxygen. thank you for reading. now, with that in mind, please enjoy reader being railed in a plane cabin. i love u all to paris n back 🤍🥐

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you accompany joel on a work trip to paris, to eat good food, drink expensive wine, and…get to know each other a little better

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) environmental crime, plane sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, joel being a fucking exhibitionist menace, creampie, more gf representation, showering together, softdom!joel, sugardaddy!joel, heavy on the flirting, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, very ridiculous spending on very ridiculous things, workplace relationship and therefore odd power dynamic yadda yadda yadda

word count: 6.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.” “They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.” “Who?” Joel asks. He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes. “Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

You’ve never been on a work trip with Joel. Usually, he likes to take them alone. Martha told you once about a time a couple years before you started when Joel took an intern to a conference in Canada, and the kid spent the entire first night in the hotel bar, missed the conference the next day, and only just made the flight home, scruff of his neck between Joel’s knuckles.

He racked up a bill of nearly a thousand dollars just on liqueur and finger food. Joel had sworn he’d never take anybody anywhere with him again.

But there’s this client over in Europe he’s due to meet – an annual thing where they sit on the terrace of some luxurious hotel, drink expensive wine that tastes like piss, according to Joel, and have a cock-off over their money and status.

Sounds like fun, right?

You’ve a pretty good idea why he asked you. And he made a pretty convincing pitch: he’d promised you a relaxing weekend. You didn’t have to sit in on any meetings, he’d let you amble around the city by day, take you for a fancy dinner or two at night. All expenses paid. You barely had to lift a finger.

As per the deal, Martha organized the travel documents. Printed them, collated them, handed them to you in a neat little folder with a paperclip on top and a Post-It note with Have fun! written in red ink. You’d slipped it into your bag and followed Joel to his car, nodding to Rand as you ducked under the starlit ceiling.

Joel’s left hand sits around your thigh – because where else would it be? – his right clutching his phone, thumb scrolling as he absentmindedly reads some document. You’re watching the city soar by from behind tinted glass. Before long, it’s the dark green of trees flickering by, and then, canvased by the clear blue sky, an air traffic control tower in the distance.

The Rolls saunters past the main entrance to the airport. You watch it roll by, leaning forward in your seat.

“Wait, what…?”

“What, baby?” Joel asks, looking up from his phone.

You usually knew every fine detail of the plan by heart. It was your job to. But with Martha being in charge of arranging your flight, you’d missed one crucial speck of information this time. And that is –

You’re travelling by private fucking jet.

The car drives across smooth tarmac toward a pointed white plane, bold against the brilliant blue sky behind it. There are four people standing at the bottom of the steps leading into it; what you assume are the two pilots, and two smartly dressed flight attendants.

“How did I never know you had a…?”

Joel smirks. “Never showed you it. C’mon.”

He gets out, strolls around to your door and opens it for you. You’re still gawking at the jet.

“Jeez…” you whisper, hopping out of the car.

“What is it?” he says through a chuckle, leading you across the tarmac.

“I feel so…Everyone looks so…I’m in my fucking sweatpants, Joel.”

He looks at you under low brows, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like he doesn’t want to hear one more word of it. He holds an arm out; his pinkie bumps into your tummy.

“I think you look beautiful, darlin’.”

It might’ve stopped you in your tracks. Might’ve crumbled the entire airport to dust. Might’ve made the sun drop out of the sky. You’re not sure. You wouldn’t notice if you dropped dead right now.

His words, his soft voice when he says them, send a pang of white noise through your ears, echoing around and bouncing off the walls of your head.

You swallow. Digest what he just said. And do your best to forget all about it.

Joel takes your hand and leads you to the plane steps, helping you up. He follows at your heels. “Thanks, Jerry, Lisa,” he says. You give both pilots a nervous smile as you pass.

The airconditioned cabin chills your arms when you reach the top, twisting around to look back to Joel.

“Go on.” Joel nods, palm ushering you inside.

You step forward and turn right, standing in the doorway to a pristine, white-walled, wooden interior cabin, leather seats dotted against the walls, dark brown glassy tables between them, soft gray carpet at your feet, vacuum cleaner lines still visible. There’s a long plush couch on the left wall, today’s newspaper on the side table next to it.

You feel Joel’s body shell around yours, his chin dips against your ear.

“Like it?”

“Not really. Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution.”

“How many trees you want me to plant to make up for it?”

You tut. “What are you doin’ in business? You’re so funny.”

You wander off without looking back, heading for one of the window seats.

“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “there’s a separate cabin up back, too, if you want it.”

“Separate cabin?”

He nods. “’s got a bed. It’s cozy.”

A bed. Of course this asshole has a fucking bed in his private jet.

The pilots file in behind him, dipping into the cockpit. The flight attendants follow, and begin preparing for takeoff. Joel strolls over to the seat opposite yours, giving your legs a nudge under the varnished table when he sits down.

You both click your seatbelts into place, relax, and look out the window as the jet rolls by the airport, heading for the runway. The engine fires up properly, a deep hum you feel rattling up your spine, and then you’re pulled forward, body pushing heavily into the soft leather of your seat.

The plane races down the runway, the grass and trees blurring into a mix of dark and light green, before you’re lifting off the tarmac and into the air, your tummy flipping a little from excitement and maybe some nerves, and…Joel’s gaze on you.

When your eyes meet his, he scans down. Your little black t-shirt, skin tight. The way your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. Down to the waist of your sweatpants, then further down your legs. You know exactly what’s going through his mind.

And, honestly…being on a private jet on your way to a free weekend in Paris, accompanied by the best sex you’ve ever had…? Goes against a couple of your core beliefs about the world, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t on your mind, too.

The flight attendants let you guys know you can unbuckle your belts now, and, like a hive mind, you both unclip them and stand.

“Was gonna go check out that, uh–”

“I’ll show you to it,” Joel cuts in, taking your bag and leading you down the aircraft. He dips his head as he walks, the cabin too small for him to stand straight. You follow like a fucking dog, trying to hide the spring in your step.

Through a door concealed to look like part of the wall is a small room with a double bed, soft white sheets untouched. There’s a little TV on the wall opposite, a small table with another comfy chair by one of the windows, and a rail for hanging up clothes. The shades over the windows are pulled almost all the way down, sunlight splintering through and lining the soft carpet.

Joel wasn’t wrong. It is cozy.

He sets your bag down on the floor and closes the door behind you. You notice he locks it.

The corners of your lips tug, your eyebrows raise. “Might be classier than my bedroom.”

He scoffs, and you turn, falling back onto the bed and kicking your shoes off.

“Alright,” you announce, flat-out on the sheets, “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”

Joel looks surprised. Almost – offended. “Sh…You’re gonna sleep?”

“’s why you got a bed, ain’t it?”

He narrows his eyes, runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. Steps forward. Sticks a knee between yours. “Not exactly.”

You smile up at him. He’s pulling the jacket from his shoulders, plain white tee underneath. He looks so fucking good. The man always looks so fucking good. He tosses the jacket to the floor and bends down over you. Hands pressing deep into the bed either side of your head, torso hovering over yours. Hips just too far away for you to lift yours up to meet them.

You take hold of his wrists. “Then…show me what it’s for.”

Joel looks from your lips to your chest, then back up to your eyes, grinning like a devil. He lifts one hand and his fingers come down to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants, tugging painfully slow on them. You want to whine, but that’d be letting him win too easily.

He loosens the waist and his fingers find the hem of your tee tucked beneath.

“You gonna show me those pretty tits, baby?”

You nod, biting your lip as he peels your top from your body, your back arching, arms splaying out on the bed. Joel uncovers your chest and slips the top over your head, discarding it to the side and leaning back to take the view in.

You didn’t wear a bra today. Wanted to travel in as much comfort as possible.

One of your wiser choices.

“Fuck, darlin’…” he breathes, eyes set on your perky tits, your round, hardened nipples. His reaction sends a fleet of electricity down to your core.

“C’mere,” you whisper, taking his shirt in your fists and dragging him down against your naked torso. And then his hips are there, right against yours, and you grind up into him, feeling his bulging crotch between your legs.

Your fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and he lifts off of you, letting you tug it over his head before his chest is pressed back against yours. You part your lips and he fills your mouth with his tongue, hands in your hair, body grinding against your own. He’s pushing you further up the mattress until you’re both in the center, disturbing the sheets and shifting the cushions decorating the bed.

Joel’s hand trails down your naked stomach and under your pants, cutting past the lace of your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger daring ever lower. You moan and drag your hips forward to edge his fingers further, until they’re dipping between your folds and your body’s rolling with pleasure.

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, “that’s it, huh? That’s what you want?”

“Uhuh,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth, eyelashes batting in a plea for him to keep going. Keep fucking going.

His mouth dips between your jaw and your shoulder, teeth picking up your hot skin to suck a bruise while two fingers push inside of you, lifting your back from the mattress and into Joel’s rock-solid body. Some noise escapes his lips, something caught between a laugh and a groan.

“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, drawing a smile across your face.

And then your hands are messing around at his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button. Wanting him in your hands as much as he has you around his own. Needing to feel what you’re doing to him, since he’s well aware of what he’s done to you.

Joel’s hand slips gently out from under your pants and his weight lifts off of you. In the slivers of light streaming through the cabin windows, his silhouette steps back off the bed and shoves the denim down his thighs. His jeans hit the floor and as quick as he left you, he’s back pressing into you again, hard outline of his length nudging against the top of your thigh.

You slip a hand under the elastic of his underwear and take hold of his cock, while he picks up where he left off between your legs. Your lips connect, breathing laughs and pants and desperate moans into each other, hands working to push each other closer and closer…

Joel’s fingers pump in and out, curling just enough to hit your G-spot every time. His thumb’s bumping at your clit, pushing waves of pleasure with each circle. He adds a third finger when you start to gasp, the movement of your fist around his shaft becoming messy and staggered. You’re trying to focus on him, trying to get him there as fast as he’s getting you, but he’s so fucking good at it, and you’re starting to fade out of the cabin.

Your eyes roll shut; head falls back against the bed. You’re still trying to fucking jack him off, as if he’d even let himself cum in your hands before he’s been inside you. But you’re desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of having you unfold on his hand less than ten minutes into this. Desperately trying not to give in to him and his stupid private jet.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers in your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your hair, “you can cum. Do it for me.”

“F-uck you,” you whisper, and you cave.

Let’s put it down to the air pressure when you’re this high up. In fact, let’s just say: you’re on a plane, and you’ve never had anything remotely close to sex on a plane before, and that’s why, when your orgasm bursts through, you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done before. It’s because of how fucking insane this is.

Let’s just say.

You come to with your face buried in the crook of Joel’s neck. His chest is vibrating, Adam’s apple bobbing. You pull back and notice the dimples in his swollen cheeks, the crow’s feet by his eyes, and then…the wide smile spread across his lips.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asks through a laugh.

You curse at him again, eyes screwing shut. His hand’s still between your legs, slowly moving in and out, lulling you through the tail end of your orgasm. Your hands have deserted their original job; they’re clutching Joel’s shoulders. You don’t even remember grabbing onto him.

“Got somethin’ that’ll make you feel even better,” he breathes, and before you’re fully awake, his hands are on your hips, flipping you over. He drags your pants down your legs, discarding them to the floor beside his.

You sigh when he pulls your ass up into the air, resting your ear on your folded arms. Accepting defeat, or maybe just…letting him do what he does best.

Joel slips your panties to the side and runs his cock up and down your dripping cunt. You flinch, still sensitive, and feel him slow down.

“Gonna make you feel real good, alright?”

“Mhm,” you reply, eyes closing again as he lines up.

It sounds like a bit of a dumb thing to say. Joel makes you feel good every time his hands are on you, without question. Even that first night, in that dive bar, before he’d ever really done anything. His hands sent electricity through your body that you failed all weekend to rid yourself of. But you hear what he’s really saying.

You haven’t had each other yet without someone on the other side of the wall, waiting for one of you. It’s always been a rush, always been about that race to the finish line just to satisfy your needs, and then return to Earth as soon as you’re done.

There’s no need to rush to that finish line this time around. Nobody’s waiting. Joel can do whatever he wants, can fuck you however he likes, and have you under his hand for as long as he wants. As long as you both last.

The bed makes sense now, doesn’t it?

He pushes inside you, thick, hard, full. You gasp, face burying into the comforter, legs spreading to accommodate his size. Your fingers grasp onto the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric as he fills you up, pulls halfway out, and rocks back in.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cry, and his hips slam into yours.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Daddy,” you correct yourself, still gasping.

“Better.”

Joel pounds into you, strong grip on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock at a punishing pace. His grunts match your whines. Your hand stretches out to grab something – anything – to hold onto, to steady yourself as your body begins to collapse.

“Daddy,” you mewl again, muffled by the cotton of the sheets, like it’s the only word coming to mind. “So – fuckin’ – good.”

“Louder, baby,” he replies, groaning when you tighten around him.

You whimper. “F-fuck, daddy.”

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”

“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”

“Who?” Joel asks.

He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.

“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

His hips crack into yours again once, and then halt. You cry out, the sudden feeling of him in his entirety, filling you up, pushing right up against your cervix, too much to bear. Too much to be muffled by the mattress beneath you.

“Let – them,” Joel’s hips drag back, slow, leaving you empty, “hear – you.”

He thrusts forward again, painfully, and you moan. Loud. “Ah, daddy,” you cry out again, and you swear Joel’s chest rumbles behind you with a laugh.

“That’s it, good girl. Tell ‘em how good it feels.”

You feel your mind start to slip, the cabin going with it. Your eyes roll closed, your mouth falls open. The only sound escaping your lips a whine, over and over, shaped just like the word daddy, daddy, daddy.

Joel’s forehead rests on the crown of yours, his voice a soft hum at the nape of your neck.

“See? Sound way too pretty to keep quiet, darlin’.”

He’s panting, words spilling out of his mouth between gasps and grunts. Hips are snapping at a grueling pace. You reach for his wrists again, planted in the bed either side of your head, and squeeze as if it might relieve the building tension in the pit of your stomach.

But he’s going so fast, so hard, fucking you dumb. And you can feel him start to falter, when your walls hold him snug, tightening around him as you reach your high.

He cums when you do. You feel him empty inside you as you hurtle through your own orgasm, rippling bliss all around your body. You both cry out, filling the tiny room with groans of pleasure and release together.

Your hips give, fall flat to the mattress, Joel still inside, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside you.

His elbows sink into the bed at your shoulders, caging you under his body as the remnants of your highs wash away. He’s running soft, wet kisses from your neck down the top of your spine. When your body stills, the pulsing of your cunt a mere flutter, he slips out from between your legs and pushes up off of your body.

Joel collapses alongside you atop the tangle of sheets and pillows, skin sticking, bodies thrumming with energy. You roll over to lie next to him. Chests rising and falling in unison, fingers intertwining at your sides. You’re staring at the ceiling, head tilting to rest on Joel’s shoulder, and he places a soft kiss to your hair.

You glance up to look into his brown eyes, lit by the thin rays of bursting sunlight seeping through the windows. The way the light moves across him as the plane turns, brilliant rays sweeping over the horizon and reflecting every angle of his face.

When he notices you, he dips his chin, and you prop yourself up, pressing your lips to his. Joel holds your jaw softly, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. His other hand scoops around your back, holding your body close to his.

“Sleepy,” you mutter, and he nods.

“Get some rest,” he tells you, but you’re already laying your head down on his chest.

Your heavy eyes blink the jet out of view; Joel’s hand stroking your hair sends you off to sleep.

----------

You wake under the white sheets, still wrapped up in Joel’s arms, to the sound of voices on the TV. Some comedy movie. Sounds like Adam Sandler. Joel mutes it when he notices you stirring.

“Afternoon,” he mutters, voice husky.

“Hi,” you reply softly, and his hand runs through your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Only a little while. They’re probably getting ready for lunch. You want me to head out first?”

You nod, suddenly feeling ashamed…and hungry. “Yeah. ‘n can you…make sure they don’t ask?”

“They ain’t gonna ask,” he groans, laughing as you roll off his body and let him up.

You watch as he dresses himself, toned arms pulling his tee over broad shoulders; tan legs slipping back into neat jeans. He slings his jacket over his arm and bends back down over you to let you kiss him again – slow, deep. Something of a thanks, a you’re welcome, maybe. A marker, anyway. A prelude to this weekend.

And then he slips out front. You lock the door behind him and start collecting your clothes, hopping around the cabin as you pull them on.

Before you leave, you grab a hoodie from your bag, feeling a little more exposed than you did when you first boarded. You toss it over your shoulders and open the door.

“Couple more hours,” Joel tells you as you sit opposite him, propping your ankles on his lap. His hands run over your socks, brows furrowing when he notices the pattern. “Bart Simpson?”

“Comfiest socks I own. Good plane socks.”

“Alright.”

“Go on. Make fun of ‘em.”

“I didn’t say anything. You want somethin’ to eat?”

You smirk. “Sure.”

He pours you a glass of water from the metal jug on the table between you both, and one of the attendants appears as if by magic on your right.

“Got you gluten free stuff,” Joel says as you gulp at the ice water.

You almost choke. “Seriously?”

His face twists, confused. Mirroring your astonishment. “Yeah. You think I’d let you starve?”

You almost laugh before you hear it, and realize how sweet it is. You didn’t even know Joel noticed this stuff. Didn’t think it’d be on his radar.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your glass to mask the blush burning across your cheeks.

Joel nods once. Then turns to the attendant and asks for a burger, side of fries, side of onion rings. “We got sweet potato fries, Len?” he asks.

“Think so,” Len replies. “Want them instead? Or both?”

Joel thinks it over for probably two seconds, before he shrugs and says, “Both. Thanks, man.”

Len turns to you, but you’re still staring at Joel. “Unbelievable,” you mutter.

Joel holds his hands out. “I’m hungry.”

You give Len a smile. “What’s…What can I have?”

“We got gluten free flour, bread, pasta, uh…garlic bread for sides, too. And a couple desserts.”

“What the f…?” You stare at Joel. “You didn’t have to–”

“Just order, baby,” Joel says, palm facing you, stopping you from going on.

“I’ll, uh…You do fried chicken?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll have fried chicken, side of fries, and coleslaw, if you have it, please.”

Len nods curtly and heads back up front, leaving you and Joel on your own again. You finish your thought.

“What the fuck?”

He’s chuckling. “What?”

“You…This is…Nothing, you just…you blow my mind, every time.”

Joel shrugs, grinning. “Blow your back out, ‘n all.”

“Alright.” You snatch your ankles from his grasp – Bart’s toothy smirk slipping from between Joel’s fingers – and sit up straight, looking out of the window to the dazzling sky; bright blue on top and fluffy white clouds beneath.

Your food arrives shortly after and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence. Joel checks through his emails, you sit back in your seat with your headphones in. It’s nice, not having a phone to answer or Joel’s schedule to fix. Nicer, still, having him feet away from you, giving you all the attention you could possibly want at the drop of a hat.

You land in Paris at 10PM local time. Straight off the plane and into another sleek, black car, driven by a gray-haired, sharp-suited man named Denis whose hand Joel shakes before climbing in beside you. He slides into the leather seat and you fall against one another, your head on his shoulder. Partition wound up, though neither of you feel much like doing anything that’d require privacy. Your eyes are tired, heavy, you smell like eight hours’ worth of plane, and you’re basically salivating at the thought of collapsing into a huge, soft, clean bed.

Which is exactly what the pair of you do when you reach the hotel. You’re in some extravagant suite picked by Joel; you manage two glances around the dark place before he’s leading you by hand off to the bedroom, cases still parked at the front door.

And before you know it, you’re sinking into the plush sheets of a king-size bed, limbs entangled with Joel’s, city lights twinkling through the window into your sleep-glazed eyes as you drift off.

----------

Day breaks across Paris around seven in the morning. You wake with the blue glow of the sky, dusty pink on the horizon bleeding upward as the sun rises higher. When your eyes open and adjust to the light, you glance over Joel’s still sleeping body and notice the view behind him, split in half by the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower.

The curtains are still pulled back – neither of you noticed nor had the energy to shut them when you arrived. You’re both still in your clothes from yesterday, too. Joel managed to kick off his shoes, and you remember him pulling yours off before he fell into the bed next to you. You didn’t even sleep under the bedsheets.

You push yourself up off the bed, stretching your back and glancing around. This room is fucking nuts. Gold accented – gold handles, gold light switches, gold frames. Pretentious modern art decorating each wall, an upholstered headboard that almost touches the ceiling in front of you. Marble-topped nightstands with spotless silver lamps, glinting in the light.

You roll off of the bed, Bart Simpson socks landing on soft carpet, though his face has been awkwardly twisted around your ankle in your sleep. You shuffle off to a door on the left, leading down a small hallway – past some fancy ornate vase – to the living room: a wide, open space with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the bedroom, looking out to the same view.

Two velvet couches sit opposite one another, a white marble coffee table sat between. Behind them, a dining table with eight chairs. Gleaming varnished wood. And then, through a couple more doors, a kitchenette with modern white cabinets, a coffee machine, a microwave.

Fucking. Nuts.

You hear Joel stirring in the bedroom and wander back through, dazed with sleep and amazement at this place. He’s rubbing his eyes when you walk in and spring down on top of him on the bed.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice thick and husky. His hands fall onto your thighs, sat either side of his waist, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re energetic.”

“Have you fucking seen this place?”

“I have. Stay here every year.”

You press further into him, feeling a swell in his jeans and doing your best to ignore it.

“Can we go explore?”

“Outside?”

You nod eagerly, despite the way his face screws up.

“Baby,” he sighs, “I’m still in my damn jeans.”

“So, go shower. Get dressed.”

He’s not done protesting. “We travelled for, like, nine hours straight yesterday.”

“’n now we’re here and we ain’t here long, so let’s go do something. C’mon.”

You lace your fingers through Joel’s and pull him up toward you, sitting in his lap on the bed. He buries his face in your chest, mumbling something incoherent into the cotton of your shirt.

You giggle. “Huh? Can’t hear you.”

Joel pulls back with a sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Alright,” he says, “go get ready.”

You leap off of him with a quiet squeal of glee.

As you pace around the suite, dragging your case into the bedroom, fishing some clean clothes and your toothbrush out, practically skipping into the marble-tiled shower room, Joel lays back in bed watching your every move. Smiling, eyebrows lifting with encouragement anytime you look over to him. Head resting back in the crook of his arm, sleepy eyes taking in all of your excitement.

You’re rinsing shampoo out of your hair when he slides into the shower behind you, a quick kiss to your shoulder.

“No sex,” you tell him with a pointed finger, squeezing the lemon scented gel into the palm of your hand.

“No, ma’am,” he says with a smirk, dipping his head to let you lather up the suds in his salt and pepper hair. “So, where we goin’?”

You shrug. “Wherever. Lots to do in Paris.”

“Wanna get you somethin’ nice,” he says, eyes screwed shut as he runs his head under the flow of water, “a thanks for comin’ with me.”

“I think maybe the private jet, the hotel room, plus the free trip in itself is thanks enough, Joel.”

But Joel disagrees. Heartily, apparently.

He takes your hand and helps you out of the car on a tree-lined street, tall cream buildings on either side. It looks like a movie set. You’re following Joel’s lead, spending more time craning your neck to look up at the huge, ornate windows guarded by black balconettes while he guides you across cobblestone toward the smoothly paved sidewalk.

You’re not even paying attention to where he’s taking you until you’re stood in the middle of a glistening store, plush rug under your feet, lavish chairs in the center of the room, a rainbow of fashion surrounding you.

“What…? No, Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes scanning the room. He takes a step, and you tug on his arm.

“I can’t fucking afford Gucci,” you whisper, pulling his body back against yours.

He hands you a bemused smile, eyebrows low, corners of his lips pulled. “All expenses paid, baby.”

Your arm falls limp and he drags you through the store, past mannequins in patterned gowns and silk shirts, past shelves of obnoxiously huge purses and accessories gleaming in the spotlights from above.

Your fingers stay locked around Joel’s hand, your head swiveling so much you worry it might fall off, looking from the vibrant floral wallpaper down to the spotless tiled floor, glancing politely at attendants and then dipping your head and wandering by them behind Joel.

“See anything?” he asks, turning to you at the opposite end of the store.

It’s ridiculous. This entire trip…is ridiculous, and you’ve only been here twelve hours. Following around at Joel’s heels like a puppy, watching as he clicks his fingers – no, before he even gets the chance to click his fingers – and everything and anything either of you could dream up just…happens. Right in front of you.

He won’t let up. You know him. If you tried to pull him back outside onto the street, he’d buy you something for the hell of it.

You know him. So, you decide to use that to your advantage.

“Gucci…I dunno…” you muse, squinting at him.

“Not your thing?” he asks, and he seems curious, but – you know him. You know that behind that polite mask is a smirk thick enough to make your knees wobble. He knows what you’re doing. “Where to, angel?”

You lead him out of the store. Feel his shadow behind you, watching as you thank the doorman and take a left around the corner, passing under the shade of the gently rustling trees. Arm in arm, you arrive before a huge archway, pristine windows surrounding the door to…

“Dolce & Gabbana…” Joel looks up at the stone writing atop the arch. “Alright. Classy girl.”

You giggle, pulling him past the wrought-iron fence and inside.

It’s sleeker, moodier. Less in your face. Suits you a bit better, though you can’t quite swallow back the guilt that sticks in your throat as you saunter around, Joel right behind you. It catches you when an assistant touches your arm, snapping you out of your daze, and asks if you need anything.

“No, thank you,” you reply, mirroring her smile. “Thank you.”

She nods and floats off.

Joel’s frame shells around yours, dipping his jaw to lean against your shoulder. “What about that one?” His eyes flit up to a mannequin just past a lit table of purses.

“The black one?”

“Mhm.”

“You like that?”

He repeats, a little more exaggerated: “Mhm.”

You shrug. “I do look good in black.”

“Look better in nothin’.” Joel steps forward and takes the tag between two delicate fingers, deliberately hiding it from you. He turns back, lifts his eyebrows in question. “Buy you it if you promise to wear it tonight.”

You smile. This man knows how to barter. And you take no convincing at all.

“Alright,” you accept, “deal.”

----------

Three hours later, you’re strolling down another cobbled street with an ice cream in your hand. And not much else, by the way. Joel’s taken all the shopping bags back to the hotel. He slapped your hand away when you tried to lift one of them from his clutches.

The wind sifts gently through your hair, cooling your face and neck, toying with the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. It flutters the French flags overhead, red, white and blue blowing in the breeze. Cars roll by, engines humming as they weave in and out between one another, horns calling out in the distance.

Joel hadn’t let you come up to the counter to pay with him, had insisted you stay right where you were standing, and when he finished up and laced his fingers through yours, it was like a surge of energy had shot through him.

He led you out of the store and into another, and another, and another…until his hands were wrapped around, what, six bags? All carrying different components of your outfit for tonight.

And then he’d noticed the time – unlocked his phone with a curse under his breath, and kissed your temple. Midday. He was meeting Jean-Marc in an hour.

“You wanna come back with me? Chill at the hotel?” he’d asked, dialing his chauffeur’s number.

“I’m good,” you said, smiling sweetly as he squeezed your shoulder. Then, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you his card.

“’case you see anything else you want.”

“Joel,” you protested, but he’d shut you up by clicking his teeth and walking off, leaving you to follow after him, shamelessly beaming.

He’d apologized another three times before Denis had pulled up, then once more as he loaded the trunk with your bags.

“See you later. Enjoy your meeting,” you teased, laughing at the way his face twisted into a grimace as the car rolled off.

It’d been a pretty nice afternoon. You’d dipped into a couple more stores – though, without Joel to impress, the low-cut dresses and short miniskirts were somewhat less exciting.

That is, until you passed by a lingerie store. You stood outside for a second, peering by your reflection in the window to study what lay behind. Suddenly lace and satin – and the idea of Joel seeing you in them – seemed a lot more enticing.

You’d pieced together an entire getup: bra, panties, garter belt, even a pair of stockings, and a silk robe to go over the top. You handed over Joel’s card, ignoring the way your cheeks began to heat and focusing instead on how smug you felt, and skipped out of the store, bag in hand.

You’d called Denis five minutes ago to ask for a ride back to the hotel. He called you Madame, he said Nonono every time you apologized for bothering him again, and he promised he’d be there in less than ten minutes.

You pace back and forth along the curb, waiting for the shiny black Maybach to pull up. You’ve checked your phone, like, five times already, kinda hoping there’ll be a text from Joel. You swing the bag between your fingers.

A door swings open behind you, giggles filter out into the street, and you turn to see a couple bounding out of a jewelers, hand in hand. She flicks her left wrist up, tilts it in the sun. It’s hard to ignore the light bouncing off of her ring finger. You feel nauseous at the sight.

Suddenly the Parisian street dissolves, and what sweeps over in replacement is a long, empty lawn, maple trees swaying menacingly in the distance. There’s a blur of bright blue sky, sunrays bursting across your vision. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes, and there he is. There he was.

He was on the grass. You told him to stand up; his suit trousers would be stained green. He did it anyway. Trembling hands, expectant stare. You stuttered and stammered your way through a sentence fueled by shock and horror and…resentment.

And then you did it anyway, too.

The crackle of tires coming to a stop on the road in front drags your fraught gaze from the couple, now strutting off down the avenue. You reach for the door handle, but Denis is already out of the car and leaning down, hand on your back as you duck into the backseat.

----------

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[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - November 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles on Patreon!

1. Climate Initiatives Fare Well Across the Country Despite National Political Climate

“[California voters approved] a $10 billion bond measure to boost climate resilience across [the] state[…. Hawai’i] voters cast their ballots in favor of establishing the [climate] resiliency fund, with money for the project coming from existing property tax revenue.“

2. ‘You have to disguise your human form’: how sea eagles are being returned to Severn estuary after 150 years

“[… To avoid imprinting,] the handlers will wear long robes and feed the young eagles chopped rabbit and other meat with bird hand-puppets. […] Williams hopes that restoring eagles to the top of the food chain in the estuary will create a more balanced, thriving ecosystem.”

3. 10 states voted on pro-abortion referendums. 7 of them passed

“New York voters overwhelmingly approved the Equal Rights Amendment, adding [… among other characteristics] gender expression, pregnancy, and pregnancy outcomes to anti-discrimination laws. […] In deep-red Missouri and Montana, voters also enshrined abortions protections in their state constitutions.”

4. Giant rats could soon fight illegal wildlife trade by sniffing out elephant tusk and rhino horn

“”Our study shows that we can train African giant pouched rats to detect illegally trafficked wildlife, even when it has been concealed among other substances[.…] They can easily access tight spaces like cargo in packed shipping containers or be lifted up high to screen the ventilation systems of sealed containers,” Szott explained.”

5. Sarah McBride wins Delaware U.S. House seat, becoming the first out trans member of Congress

“McBride spearheaded Delaware’s legislation to ban the “gay and trans panic” defense as a state senator [… and] helped to pass paid family and medical leave, gun safety measures, and protections for reproductive rights.”

6. Critically endangered Sumatran elephant calf born in Indonesia

“Indonesian officials hailed the births and said they showed conservation efforts were essential to prevent the protected species from extinction. […] Sumatran elephants are on the brink of extinction with only about 2,400-2,800 left in the world, according to the World Wide Fund for Nature.”

7. Sin City is Going Green

“[Hotels there] have conserved 16 billion gallons of water since 2007, thanks to […] replacing grass with desert-friendly landscaping, installing water-efficient taps across all properties, and reusing water at aquariums and in the Bellagio Fountain.”

8. Gray squirrel control: Study shows promise for effective contraceptive delivery system

“[… T]he feeders have a very high level of species-specificity. […] The bait and monitoring system developed and tested in the study demonstrated that […] “spring was the only season tested where female squirrels were more likely to visit bait feeders than males. Spring coincides with a peak in squirrel breeding and is therefore a good time to deliver a contraceptive."”

9. Returning Grazing Land to Native Forests Would Yield Big Climate Benefits

“[… S]trategically regrowing forests on land where cattle currently graze […] while intensifying production elsewhere could drastically cut greenhouse gas emissions, with little hit to global protein production, a new study shows.”

10. Interior Department Strengthens Conservation of American Bison Through New Agreement with Canada and Mexico

“Approximately 31,000 bison are currently being stewarded by the United States, Canada and Mexico with the goal of conserving the species and their role in the function of native grassland systems, as well as their place in Indigenous culture.”

October 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Stardust by Neil Gaiman

Young Tristran Thorn will do anything to win the cold heart of beautiful Victoria—even fetch her the star they watch fall from the night sky. But to do so, he must enter the unexplored lands on the other side of the ancient wall that gives their tiny village its name. Beyond that old stone wall, Tristran learns, lies Faerie—where nothing not even a fallen star, is what he imagined.

Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls

Billy, Old Dan, and Little Ann—a boy and his two dogs...

A loving threesome, they ranged the dark hills and river bottoms of Cherokee County. Old Dan had the brawn, Little Ann had the brains—and Billy had the will to train them to be the finest hunting team in the valley. Glory and victory were coming to them, but sadness waited too. And close by was the strange and wonderful power that's only found...

The Witches by Roald Dahl

This is not a fairy-tale. This is about real witches. Real witches don't ride around on broomsticks. They don't even wear black cloaks and hats. They are vile, cunning, detestable creatures who disguise themselves as nice, ordinary ladies. So how can you tell when you're face to face with one? Well, if you don't know yet you'd better find out quickly-because there's nothing a witch loathes quite as much as children and she'll wield all kinds of terrifying powers to get rid of them.

The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan

Since his mother's death six years ago, Carter Kane has been living out of a suitcase, traveling the globe with his father, the brilliant Egyptologist, Dr. Julius Kane. But while Carter's been homeschooled, his younger sister, Sadie, has been living with their grandparents in London. Sadie has just what Carter wants—school friends and a chance at a "normal" life. But Carter has just what Sadie longs for—time with their father. After six years of living apart, the siblings have almost nothing in common. Until now.

On Christmas Eve, Sadie and Carter are reunited when their father brings them to the British Museum, with a promise that he's going to "make things right." But all does not go according to plan: Carter and Sadie watch as Julius summons a mysterious figure, who quickly banishes their father and causes a fiery explosion.

Soon Carter and Sadie discover that the gods of Ancient Egypt are waking, and the worst of them—Set—has a frightening scheme. To save their father, they must embark on a dangerous journey—a quest that brings them ever closer to the truth about their family and its links to the House of Life, a secret order that has existed since the time of the pharaohs.

Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

Brian is on his way to Canada to visit his estranged father when the pilot of his small prop plane suffers a heart attack. Brian is forced to crash-land the plane in a lake--and finds himself stranded in the remote Canadian wilderness with only his clothing and the hatchet his mother gave him as a present before his departure.

Brian had been distraught over his parents' impending divorce and the secret he carries about his mother, but now he is truly desolate and alone. Exhausted, terrified, and hungry, Brian struggles to find food and make a shelter for himself. He has no special knowledge of the woods, and he must find a new kind of awareness and patience as he meets each day's challenges. Is the water safe to drink? Are the berries he finds poisonous?

Slowly, Brian learns to turn adversity to his advantage--an invading porcupine unexpectedly shows him how to make fire, a devastating tornado shows him how to retrieve supplies from the submerged airplane. Most of all, Brian leaves behind the self-pity he has felt about his predicament as he summons the courage to stay alive.

Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell

On San Nicolas Island, dolphins flash in the surrounding blue waters, sea otter play in the vast kelp beds, and sea elephants loll on the stony beaches. Here, in the early 1800s, a girl named Karana spent eighteen years alone.

Karana had to contend with the ferocious pack of wild dogs that killed her younger brother, constantly guard against Aleutian sea otter hunters, and maintain a precarious food supply. Her courage, self-reliance, and grit has inspired millions of readers in this breathtaking adventure.

Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli

Leo Borlock follows the unspoken rule at Mica Area High School: don't stand out--under any circumstances! Then Stargirl arrives at Mica High and everything changes--for Leo and for the entire school. After 15 years of home schooling, Stargirl bursts into tenth grade in an explosion of color and a clatter of ukulele music, enchanting the Mica student body.

But the delicate scales of popularity suddenly shift, and Stargirl is shunned for everything that makes her different. Somewhere in the midst of Stargirl's arrival and rise and fall, normal Leo Borlock has tumbled into love with her.

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster

For Milo, everything’s a bore. When a tollbooth mysteriously appears in his room, he drives through only because he’s got nothing better to do. But on the other side, things seem different. Milo visits the Island of Conclusions (you get there by jumping), learns about time from a ticking watchdog named Tock, and even embarks on a quest to rescue Rhyme and Reason! Somewhere along the way, Milo realizes something astonishing. Life is far from dull. In fact, it’s exciting beyond his wildest dreams. . . .

Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

As a young horse, Black Beauty is well-loved and happy. But when his owner is forced to sell him, his life changes drastically. He has many new owners—some of them cruel and some of them kind. All he needs is someone to love him again....

Whether pulling an elegant carriage or a ramshackle cab, Black Beauty tries to live as best he can. This is his amazing story, told as only he could tell it.

Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt

Doomed to - or blessed with - eternal life after drinking from a magic spring, the Tuck family wanders about trying to live as inconspicuously and comfortably as they can. When ten-year-old Winnie Foster stumbles on their secret, the Tucks take her home and explain why living forever at one age is less a blessing that it might seem. Complications arise when Winnie is followed by a stranger who wants to market the spring water for a fortune.

[froggibus]

Colder Weather - Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor

Genre: fluff headcanons

Summary: how the boys act when it’s cold + snowing outside

CW: cold weather, snow, asmo forcing you to go outside (ew), lots of cuddling, pretty mid writing on my part

okok so no Lucifer or Satan for this one cause I just had no ideas :((( like I had a few but not nearly enough for complete hcs so sorry guys

also holy fuck it’s been a while since I wrote obey me hcs lmao so im a little rusty…sorry guys

also I promise I’ll shut up but it’s gonna be almost -50 celsius here this weekend (yay, Canada!) so I will be stuck inside if you guys have any obey me (or other fandoms) ideas!!

Mammon:

Mammon and to snow DO NOT mix

biggest baby in the entire Devildom when it gets cold

he has this super tacky fur coat that he insists is real rabbit fur (it’s faux—the big softy couldn’t bear real fur)

refuses to leave the house, even if he has to work

worse than that: he refuses to let you leave the house, even if you have things to do

“hey, human. where d’ya think you’re going? it’s cold out there. you’ll get sick, or worse, dead!”

invites you to his room cause he has this ‘super awesome heater’ (read: himself)

you end up lounging on the couch with him and watching movies with excruciatingly long car chases

you start shivering despite the sweater you’re wearing, and Mammon not so begrudgingly beckons you over to come sit under the blanket with him

honestly he forgets how to breathe because you’re so close and you smell nice and you’re relying on him for warmth

at some point it gets colder and you start shivering again

goes to grab another blanket but you stop him, looking up at him with those pleading eyes

“don’t go, mams. i’ll freeze without you.”

pretends to be humble about it but inside he is screaming

not sure how it happens but you end up in his lap??

he has both arms around you, cocooning you between him and the blanket

you both fall asleep on the couch, snow storm long forgotten

Leviathan:

locks himself in his room to spend the whole day watching anime

also sorry but this man’s room is a whole terrarium

he’s got his heater, his fan, his air purifier, his humidifier

his place is always the perfect temperature and the perfect place to take refuge in a blizzard

he pretends like he’s annoyed when you come into his room, dressed in warm clothes and fuzzy socks, a blanket draped over your shoulders

but really he doesn’t mind—he actually has to hide his rosy cheeks with you because he’s so flustered at the idea that you chose him

orders an insane amount of comfort food to eat during your anime marathon

like heaps and heaps of food that the two of you couldn’t possibly finish

offers you to share his blanket with him, wrapping it around the two of you to keep warm while you munch on food

somehow it turns into you leaning your head on his shoulder, eyelids getting heavy in the warmth of his room

Levi can’t even be annoyed that you’re missing episodes of the anime—you look so cute like this

Asmo:

HATES the cold, LOVES the snow 

it’s a weird dynamic…

dresses you up in the cutest snowsuit ever, and forces you to sit outside in the cold for over an hour taking pictures 

“asmo we’re gonna catch a cold”

“demons don’t get sick from the cold, don’t be silly”

you’re not a demon????

when he’s finally done with the pictures don’t expect any attention from him after

he still has to edit, caption and post them to Devilgram 

you sit under his comforter in the corner of his bed, shivering miserably and shooting glares at him from the corner of your eyes 

Finally he puts down his DDD and looks at you, his eyes sparkling when he sees just how cute and cold you look 

uses the cold as an excuse to get as close to you as possible, cuddling you tightly 

he’s so tempted to take a selfie of the two of you in bed together but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment 

probably insists on your laying between his legs with your head on his chest for ‘maximum warmth’ 

really he just want to feel you

you end up falling asleep in his room, and who is he to wake you? 

Beel:

honestly indifferent to the cold

he’s just built differently 

he’s not the biggest fan of it, but he’s not as much of a baby as some of his older brothers 

still, he doesn’t quite like the idea of you going out in the cold (at least, not without proper protection)

offers to get anything you need, but if you insist on going out, he’ll come with you 

and of course he bundles you up first 

has you dressed in one of his sweaters with one of his old winter jackets over top

you look tiny in his big clothes 

when you get home after he’ll make you stand in front of the heater to warm up while he disappears into the kitchen 

of course he’s going into the kitchen 

but you’re pleasantly surprised when he comes back with two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup

you guys eat and watch a movie in the living room, Beel asking you every five minutes if you’re cold 

you take another one of his sweaters just to get him to stop bothering you about it  

insists on feeding you every hour and piling snacks on the coffee table 

“don’t give me that look. you need food to stay warm, y/n.”

Belphie:

hates blizzards because they interrupt his sleep 

he can usually sleep through anything—from sunny days to volcanic eruptions

but the cold??? no way

his bed gets cold and even his thickest, softest blankets don’t help 

but…maybe a certain warm human could help his sleep 

ends up crawling into bed with you in the middle of the night, hardly making a sound 

you only wake when you feel the bitter cold on your body slowly fading away, a new warmth pressed against you 

“go back to sleep—don’t move! im comfy....”

you’re not even phased by Belphie sneaking into bed with you at this point 

and the warmth is honestly really nice 

you cuddle back into him, shoving your back as tight against his chest as it will go 

he throws an arm over your waist, holding your hip flush against his 

definitely stays with you the whole night—and the next few after that 

with the excuse he’s just ‘keeping warm’, of course 

checks on you every time he wakes up in the night, groggily reaching out to make sure you’re still warm and okay

-

Obey Me! Masterlist

[sadalmostlesbian]

Just curious abt ur opinion on this! So, im half Native and have always read Katniss as Indigenous, because of her physical features and where she comes from, the Seam. The Seam reminds me of reservations in the US and Canada, which often have very poor conditions and were created with the intent of extermination. Plus, I love the idea of an Indigenous girl being the one that ignited the take down of the fascist regime of Panem. But yeah! Just wanna hear ur thoughts if u have any :)

I always read Katniss as indigenous too! Of course, with Prim being blonde haired/blue eyed like most of the merchant class in 12, she is definitely mixed. I think that it adds a lot to the story for Katniss to be non-white, as non-white people have historically been change makers. Also yes, I think the Seam definitely reminds me of a reservation, and also has some aspects of an Appalachian holler. I live in the Western US and am more familiar with the style of Reservations in New Mexico and Utah (especially the Navajo reservation) so I have never particularly seen the Seam as a reservation (mostly because it’s forested and I tend to think reservation=desert, but that is definitely I bias based on my geographic location) but I really like the idea! Especially because of the quote “District 12, where you can starve to death in safety” because that is very reminiscent of the US government promising those on reservations “protection” while denying them adequate access to healthcare and education, and creating food deserts for an already vulnerable population in areas with often no arable land. Anyway, I see Katniss as indigenous and I’m so glad you do too!

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ out of the woods - chapter seven (ls2)

Logan tries to give the two of short break in Bali. Which does succeed, but then the Canadian GP tears down anything Dhanishka had left to stand on. Good thing she's got Logan, the Norris' and Charles, right?

warnings/notes: alright buckle in. Like two sex jokes, car accidents, concussions/migraines, lightly mentioned injuries, the FIA doing their job, heavy heavy betrayal, me yet again trying to hint at the biggest Marketing Ploy x Out Of The Woods connection no one has noticed LMAO

Logan's arm is firm around my waist as I stir the food in the pan, watching the sizzle of the chicken against the oil underneath it. I murmur along to the song playing, and Logan sways us to the rhythm. I'm home for a weekend with him while my parents are off in Cambridge with my sister for her college visit. We'd taken the invitation to house sit, deciding to take a full break in the short interim off we have before we both have to leave for Canada.

"We should go somewhere." Logan hums, mouth peppering a kiss to my bare shoulder next to the strap of my tank top. He's been abnormally clingy, and while I would usually mind... it feels nice.

"Where would we even go, Lo?"

He smiles, beginning to pepper soft kisses to my shoulder, trailing them up my neck as he speaks, "Well, Dalton and his wife are in Bali this weekend. He told me he wants to see you again."

"Bali? That's a like.. fifteen hour flight from here." I chuckle, squirming when his kisses get a little ticklish around my neck and the air he huffs out in a alguh rolls across my skin.

"Fifteen hours there, then a twenty three hour flight to Canada." He says, "I looked into it."

I blink, then look down at him, "You already bought the tickets, didn't you?"

Logan smirks and I laugh, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, "I'll tell my parents tonight when they get back. I'm sure they won't mind."

Logan grins and pops a few more kisses to my lips, cheeks, and forehead before I shooing him away so I can keep cooking. The meal I'm making is not something I'd typically be eating, because its for Logan's meal plan, but luckily his team had let me throw in a small bit of Indian influence to the dish via a makeshift biryani dish. Which I know Logan's been missing by the way he melts when he steals a bite.

"You cook like your mom used to when we were kids." Logan groans against my shoulder and I laugh, taking my own spoonful and pouting a bit because its not as flavorful as we used to make it.

"You have to come to Bahrain over your winter break so you can have a proper Aayi Dubey biryani with all the spices and such." I muse, "it's lacking my mothers proper smothering of spices, sadly meal plans do restrict us from going full Indian mother here."

Logan nods, taking a bit more of the rice dish into his mouth and I laugh softly before making us two bowls of it to eat. He starts washing up some of the dishes while I'm setting the table, and I mange to pull him away to eat--promising we'll finish cleaning later.

We don't talk of much, other than him calling Dalton to let him know we'll be in Bali in two days their time. He taps his sock against my leg as I stare out the window at the setting sun. It's comfortable, just existing with him.

"I never thought we'd get here." Logan admits and I turn, looking at him curiously which makes him continue, "I thought you'd hate me through this whole thing after that night and we'd never speak again."

"I did too, to be honest." I laugh softly, finishing off the last of my rice and setting the bowl aside to take Logan's hands to stop him from picking at his fingers, "I called Lando about it, since he was the only person I knew in London at the time since Oscar was... I don't even remember, and Charles was in Monaco. I went to his and Olivia's apartment, the one they have over here because of McLaren? They told me I should just go through with the plan and do the whole fake dating thing because we kinda had too, but also to see if it maybe wasn't as one sided as I thought."

Logan just starts to giggle, small laughs that slowly grow louder before he brings my hand to his lips again, kissing my palm and then each finger.

"What's got you like this?" I laugh in response, and he grins at me sloppily with the most lovestruck look as his lips hover over my left hand. His bottom lip just brushing along my ring finger as he smiles and shrugs.

"Funnily enough, Dalton told me the same thing.” He firmly kisses my ring finger now, and just resorts to playing with my hands as a fidget instead, “You really fell for me huh?"

And now it's my turn to laugh, standing up to lean over the table to properly kiss my boyfriend. He grins, meeting me halfway with a gentle caress of my jaw and when we pull back, I rest my forehead to his.

"I was always in love with you, dumbass."

Hours later we're at that same table, Logan making sure the little decorative centerpiece my mother has is perfectly clean while I dot my lipstick back to perfection.

I figured cleaning the entire house and then making ourselves well pull together would keep my father from realizing we'd done nothing but laze around for the last few days.

Hey, we were on break, okay?

“Aw fuck.” I complain as I twist out my lipstick a bit more. Logan hums, looking over at me as I groan impatiently as I pull the whole tube up.

At the second groan he asks, “What’s a matter?”

“I’m almost out of lipstick.” I whine in complaint and he huffs out a laugh, stepping around the table to press a few soft kisses to my cheek.

"We can buy more tomorrow, yeah? Isn't there a Dior in City Centre?" He hums, pressing a kiss to my lips that has me rubbing the lipstick off his lips with a laugh as his arms wrap firmly around my waist.

"Yes, but it's fine, I can get it later and--"

Logan cuts me off with a firmer kiss this time, letting me wipe the lipstick off his lips again as he says, "Let me buy you a refill. For old times sake."

"Fine." I smile as the door opens and Logan retracts to just make it look like he was taking the lipstick from me to put it in my purse. I smile as Anya bounces to my side and starts babbling about the campus and such. I glance over my shoulder to see Logan with mt parents and the smile and wink my mom sends me says one thing,

This is all gonna work out.

logansargeant

liked by daltonsargeant, oscarpiastri, sebvettel, and 876k others...

logansargeant: booked the tickets before i asked her :)

tagged: dhanishkadubey, daltonsargeant, a.sargeant

dhanishkadubey: he deadass goes "my brothers in bali" 😭

user1: SHUT UP SHE WENT ON FAMILY VACATION?

a.sargeant: it was lovely having u and isa!!!

user2: dhanishka sargeant at this point fr

I'm standing in the bathroom of the hotel this time when Logan wraps his arms around my waist. I can hear Dalton and Ashlynn laughing in the connected living room, it feels weirdly homely as he presses a soft kiss to my jaw as one of his hands rubs small soothing circles against my hip bone.

"James call you?" I asked, I had been the one to hand him his phone, so I had seen the caller ID.

"He asked about you, actually." Logan rests his head on my shoulder once I've finished fixing up my hair and I hum as I lean back into his touch. His arms are firm, and the way his gaze wanders across my face tells me he's thinking as he takes one of my hands. My left ring finger is pecked by his lips before he settles them back at my waist again.

"Me?" I hum, watching the way he nods and still thinks. I assume it's the wording as his hands fiddle with something. I'm too focused on doing my eyeliner to look.

"You didn't answer your phone and he wanted to say he’s got the final draft of your contract ready to be signed.”

I laugh softly, looking at him in the mirror, “Wow, already?”

"Mhm." Logan kisses my cheek once I'm done with my eyeliner and steps aside to just watch me finish up my makeup. Once I've sprayed myself down with setting spray, I go to grab my lipstick and open it, pausing when I notice it's refilled.

Logan wears a triumphant smile.

"You." I poke his chest and giggle, capping the lipstick before turning around to kiss him. He laughs into the kiss, catching himself on the doorway as his hands slide around my lower back. One kiss turns to two, and ever since we'd fallen back in love it'd been impossible to keep off of eachother. Like we were making up for lost time.

A few seconds after a soft groan leaves the back of Logan's throat, followed by my giggle, Dalton shouts,

"I'm walking in, you both better be dressed!"

Logan and I laugh and I part from him, lifting my hands to fix up the bits of his hair that I'd jostled. Dalton smiles as he steps in and looks us over.

"What did you think we were doing?" Logan says to Dalton who shrugs, punching his brothers arm.

"Something not PG." Dalton shrugs and I blush, now taking my turn to whack his chest.

"Not with your immature ass around," I hum, turning back to finish up my make-up while Dalton and Logan talk about getting to our dinner reservation.

It's weird how naturally I slot into this little family, like I've always belonged.

Canada starts great. Luckily for Logan, and his success in straights, theres quite a few here. Unluckily for me, it means my overtaking this weekend is gonna be shit.

But, I know I'll fight.

I qualify Q3, beating Logan out by less than .5 or even smaller. I can't even really remember as the whole weekends a blur. Ferrari is practically running me ragged, insane amounts of training, simulator work, media... I'm exhausted each night when I fall into Logan's hotel room bed. His arms barely wrapping around me before I'm asleep against his chest.

He promises it's okay, but I feel like shit each morning for not spending time with him. But he just presses a kiss to my jaw and squeezes my hip as I get out of bed way too early to shower.

And after three nights of that, it's time for the race. By Sunday I feel like a husk, trudging myself to the garage with a water bottle full of Red Bull I'd stolen from Max. I go through the motions, take my migraine medication just as a precaution as I feel a headache forming.

And the first half of the race is fine, until I overtake Oscar to fight Carlos for P3. And I manage to get him on the hairpin turn, but something is weird about how easily he lets me by. The back wheel of my car clips something and I start to spin. I right myself, but narrowly dodge Carlos, who whips around me.

It's fine. I'm fine.

Something bumps me again and I check my mirrors, one of the RB cars coming very close to my side. I curse, steering in a bit more and understeering to get out of who I assume is Yuki's way before I'm blocking him from overtaking.

When did he get around Oscar?

"Wing damage, wing damage, I need to box." I curse into my headset, feeling the steering starting to go. It's always my steering first, I expect the rear wing to follow shortly.

"Copy."

I turn in a bit harder now, trying to get to the pit lane. It's becoming harder to steer and I feel panic rising in my stomach but I clamp it down. All I can do in this moment is trust myself, and trust my training.

I don't make it to the pitlane.

We go back through the hairpin and Carlos juts out, making me swerve to dodge. With my shit steering, it sends me into a spin. I shriek, grabbing my harness as the car--and the world around me, shuffles and spins. When the car stills I huff out slow breaths, willing myself to open my eyes.

I'm in the wall.

I can't move.

I force breaths in, force my hands to unstick from my harness. My hands come to the steering wheel and I shake, trying to disconnect it. Everything feels disconnected. I can't hear. The world is blurry. I feel sick. Sicker than sick. I manage to get the steering wheel out, tossing it up to the top of the car.

I realize no ones called for me over the radio, through the incessant ringing in my ears.

I click off the restraints slowly, trying not to jostle my aching ribs, and I get out of my car with shaking arms. And then promptly fall back in.

"Fuck!" I shriek, groaning and arching my back out of pure pain. Two hands come to my shoulders and I lift my head to see Lando. I know he's talking, but my head is swimming too much to focus on his words.

"C'mon, Danny." Lando's voice finally cuts through when he lifts my visor, "C'mon, we're gonna get you out, okay?"

"Your race..!" I gasp and he shakes his head.

"I can always get more points later, but I can't do anything if you're seriously injured and I don't help you now." He says and I nod. His hands grab under my shoulders and he helps hoist me up to sit on the halo. I try to focus, but find myself in a haze.

Somehow, I end up on a stretcher. My helmet is off and I blink slowly as Lando holds my hands.

"Dhanishka." He says softly. When did he take his helmet off?

"Lando." I hum back as the stretcher starts to roll. He follows, his hands tight in mine as he follows inside the ambulance. They've got me covered in blankets, and something clicks.

"Lando. Lando." I start saying, slapping his hands when he's not looking at me. He stops, taking my hands in his, but I just see that he's looking at me so I gasp out, "tell Logan to race. He's gonna wanna not because I got hit, tell him he has to. Tell him I said so."

When Lando nods, coaxing me to lay down again as they strap me in, I feel a bit more at ease... but the world is still soft and fuzzy and I still feel sick.

Concussed, strained muscles around my ribs, and something fucked up with my shoulder.

I'm out fully for a week, I'll skip Barcelona and be back for Austria.

Lando and Olivia are by my side when I'm told. Olivia taking it upon herself to use my phone to call my parents to let them know what was going on, and when she disappears into the hall, Lando keeps a soothing hand intertwined with mine. It's my first injury, ever. Not just a sore spot that'll go away.

And of course, the hazy symptom I'd been feeling all weekend had to be a major migraine on its way. So I'm grumpy, in serious pain, and quickly losing my stomach in a hospital bathroom while a nurse gently ties my hair back and rubs my shoulders while Lando goes out in the hall to grab Olivia.

I'm so weak I can hardly move, and the nurse is so kind, so gentle. It makes me want to cry as she guides me through the hardest parts of my migraine and gets some painkillers for my IV when it's clear I'm only set to get worse.

It takes off the edge as I'm coaxed to lay down in bed once more, a bucket off to the side if needed.

I learn from the TV playing in the room that Logan went on to place P5 behind Oscar, Carlos, Charles, and Max, in that upwards succession. Which makes me feel better a bit as Lando and Olivia help me get situated. It's only been maybe twenty minutes since the race ended, but I can hear more commotion outside than before.

A nurse calls out my room number and it takes maybe two seconds before Logan comes through the door, still in his racing gear, holding his helmet, panting like he’d ran straight here.

He had, hadn't he?

“Isa.” he sighs and I smile, extending a heavy arm to him. He shuts the door, blocking the hall light and makes his way inside the little makeshift room. He slots perfectly against my side and gently kisses my head, sighing once he’s got me safe in his hands. I wrap my un-IV'd arm around Logan shoulder, kissing what part of his head I can reach without moving. He settles me back against the blankets as Lando gives him his chair, going to get another from the hall.

Olivia sighs softly and moves a bit closer to check my IV, “She’s pretty badly concussed. Strained some muscles around her ribs and her shoulder. She's out for Barcelona, they're gonna try to get her back in for Austria."

"Ah, shit." Logan hums and I lean into his touch so he shifts so one of his hands holds mine, the other running through the wispy bangs by my face that have fallen out of my ponytail.

"Lo..." I murmur softly and he hums, looking down at my small pout. A tiny smile crosses his lips as he leans down to peck mine, then rests his forehead to mine as I whine, "my head hurts."

"I know, baby." He's basically crooning, kissing the tip of my nose and squeezing my hand, "you're gonna be alright."

Olivia gives a tiny sigh, patting Lando's arm and making a vague motion for him to follow her out of the room. They leave me and Logan in silence, the only sound the soft noise of his thumb running along my knuckles, the heart monitors methodical beeps, and the occasional kiss.

Logan, Lando, and Olivia take me back to Ferrari. The two Norris' waiting outside while I slip in with Logan. I'm only half sneaking him in and out, because if Ferrari even tried to raise hell with me when I was as in pain and as pissed off as I was right now, someone would be getting hit.

I nod to Charles when I enter and he gives me a half nod, trying to conceal the way I sneak Logan in by engrossing the engineer with a few more questions about... my car?

Why mine? Why not his?

I let the question slip from my mind, I figure I can ask him later, and go to my room. Logan helps me collect my stuff, having already brought me a change of clothes to the hospital given to him by Charles. Logan uses my phone to send a text to my manager Lucie to show her the damage to the suit, helmet, and shoes so she can get me set for new ones and then we make sure I have all my belongings and bounce.

I'm halfway through shutting the door when I hear Charles shout, "You did what?!"

"She's an idiot if she hasn't realized by now." I hear a mechanic say and I clamp a hand over Logan's mouth, he's about to complain (which, I'm sneaking him out of my drivers room, he has no right to) when a cruel laugh echoes followed by Charles' shocked gasp.

A short conversation in French, slowly getting louder and louder, is cut off by a loud slap and a scuffle. Eyes widening as I hear the two beginning to shout even louder and I grab Logan by the sleeve and shove him in my drivers room. His big eyes watch me as I pause, one hand on the door before I curse and look back at him with a sort of flame in my eyes.

"Stay!" I hiss, before slamming the door shut and following the hall to the garage. He feet carry me, sliding on the balls of my feet into the room as Charles shoved a mechanic against a wall.

"Charlie!" I shriek despite my head pounding, moving forward, knocking him to the ground with my shoulder. As he fall he pants up at me and I turn to the mechanic, then down to Charles, then step back.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Charles wipes blood from his own nose and slowly rises to his feet. There's a challenge in his eyes, and a challenge in the mechanics--and I come to realize that Aakash stands off to the side with his fists tight.

"What is this?!" I shout again and look down the hall where Astrid is dragging Logan out of my room and I blink, straightening up. She basically tosses Logan at me, and my arms shoot out to grab him as he sticks to my side.

"Ferrari's been purposefully fucking up your car this entire season! Aakash and his--" Charles starts to say before Aakash moves. It's Logan who manages to intercept, shoving me behind him as he shoves Aakash to the floor. My eyes widen to literal dinner plates, backing up until my back hits something and I look up to see Olivia.

Lando seems to have given up on holding her back as she holds her phone up.

"Charles, talk." She snips and the Monégasques listens, quickly spilling everything from his lips as Logan keeps Aakash and the other mechanic at bay, Astrid glaring daggers.

"Aakash has been having the engineers purposefully loosen the steering and rear wings, causing any and all jostling to randomly disengage them. They have it all written out on Aakash's computers, even if he tries to delete the files Ferrari keeps all changes up to a month." Charles shouts, moving closer to where Olivia keeps a hold on my shoulders. Logan backs off as well when Lando calls him over, but the guys stand in front of me and Olivia, like a wall.

"Astrid's plan was to have Dhaniska continuously wreck out so that there would be positive PR of Logan coming to her aid, but bad PR for Dhanishka because she keeps wrecking." Charles says and I see Olivia's jaw tick, her eyes glancing back to Lando's who's are equally as shifty.

Somethings not right.

Olivia and Lando echo each other as they say, "Who?"

"My manager," Logan peeks over his shoulder, "Astrid Marina."

"Oh you've gotta be--" Lando starts but Olivia's shoving her phone in my hands. And I'm reminded of the time Lando had called her the 'most aggressive Piastri' at a bar during Monaco's weekend as he darts forward but not before Olivia delivers a strong backhand to Astrid.

"You fucking bitch! They're not your little PR playthings!" Olivia screams and Lando grabs her arm, pulling her back as she keeps shouting, "I should've made sure no fucking team ever hired you again but I didn't think anyone was that level of stupid!"

Logan and I share a confused look. How the fuck does Olivia know Astrid and what the hell did Astrid do to her?

“She’s Astrid?!” Charles shouts, “what the fuck?”

“Why do you all know her!” Logan shouts and the room goes quiet. Olivia's mouth gapes, but it's interrupted by a few stewards entering the garage to see what's happening. My headache flares and I grip Logan's arm when everyone starts shouting over each other and he escorts me outside where it's a bit colder and a lot quieter.

"I-I don't understand." I eventually choke out, and Logan wraps me tight in his arms. Soft kisses are pressed to my head as he coaxes me to sit with him on the ground outside Ferrari.

And when a steward approaches us, and he sits with us, I wish I could be surprised by the fact we're being interrogated.

But yet, I'm not surprised.

f1

liked by oliviapiastri-norris, anyadubey, alexalbon, and 786k others...

f1: FIA Statement on the investigation of @ scuderiaferrari .

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taglist (thank you !)

@nichmeddar @shineforever19 @d3kstar @chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia @daemyratwst

[aroace-spec-empire]

History of the AroAce Spec Empire (So far)

(Will update as I rummage through this blog and find posts/events that are considered as important history bits-)

2024

Note: At some point Luxembourg and the AroAce Spec Empire signed an agreement. Luxembourg would help with the invasion of Europe if they got Greenland

May 1 - The AroAce Spec Empire is founded during the Great Bot War Of 2024

May 1 - Almost immediately after being created, the Empire joins the Great Bot War of 2024 on the side of Aspecs

May 2 - The Empire hosts a vote to decide which European country to invade first

May 7 - The Empire reveals a map of Europe covered in dots + Promises to give Northern Ireland to Ireland

May 7 - A vote is made to decide which type of government the Empire should have

May 7-8 - The AroAce Spec Empire decides to not invade France, due to the founder Crystals la Bubble Tea (@/crystalsandbubbletea) being intimidated by them

May 9 - Draft of the AroAce Spec Empire Constitution is created

May 9 - Voting to decide which European country to invade first ends, with Denmark taking the overwhelming majority of the vote

May 13 - Czech Republic offers an alliance to the AroAce Spec Empire

May 15 - The Alliance between the AroAce Spec Empire and the Czech Republic is made official

May 16 - Canada and the AroAce Spec Empire form an alliance

May 16 - The King's Lomatia becomes the National Flower of the AroAce Spec Empire, while Garlic bread becomes the official food

May 16 - A poll just to be silly opens. The poll is for deciding if the Empire should be renamed to Peanut AroAce Spec Empire or Peanut Spec Empire after the Empire was called a peanut twice

May 17 - The USA and the AroAce Spec Empire form an alliance

May 17 - Luxembourg has to remind the AroAce Spec Empire about the agreement

May 17 - Ikea joins the AroAce Spec Empire

May 17 - AroAce Spec Empire and France open up discussions for a possible alliance

May 17 - Crystals la Bubble Tea thinks about making May 17 a national holiday known as "National Update Day", depends on the majority vote though-

May 17 - It is revealed that Crystals la Bubble Tea isn't a government official, due to the AroAce Spec Empire being an anarchy country. Instead they are responsible for polls and writing the constitution

May 17 - Antarctica and the AroAce Spec Empire become allies

May 17 - Arby's and the AroAce Spec Empire are officially chill with each other

May 18 - The Empire made a Discord server

May 20 - A new list of proposed alliances is made. The countries on the list are Germany, Turkmenistan, and Australia

May 20 - Crystals la Bubble Tea announces that they won't be in public as much for a while (AKA finals happening)

May 20 - Alliance with Australia has been confirmed

May 20 - Crystals la Bubble Tea goes out hunting for bots on the ace tags, they find none. This isn't enough for them, as who knows when the bots will be back?

May 21 - The Denmarks know about the plans to invade Denmark, causing Crystals la Bubble Tea to contemplate their life choices

May 21 - The Empire takes a bite out of the flag of Scotland and immediately regrets it

Aug 7 - The Empire faces increasing concern due to both France's losing their memories. Crystals la Bubble Tea goes into hiding

Aug 12 - The Empire gets their memories wiped. Crystals la Bubble Tea thinks about making the empire go into lockdown to prevent further memory loss

Some time between Aug 12 and Aug 19 - The Empire gets it's memories back

Aug 19 - The Empire and Communist America form an alliance

Some point in August - India and the Empire form an alliance

Aug 30 - The British Empire and the AroAce Spec Empire form an alliance

Sept 1 - The AroAce Spec Empire starts the invasion of European Countries

Oct 2 - The Great Bot was is presumably over

[the-fiction-witch]

Mr Crown P4

Media - Morbius Character - Lucien Crown Couple - Lucien Milo X OC Reader - (OC) Anastasia Morton (Assistant) Rating - 18 + Smut - feeling up / ceo & Employee / fingering / forced orgasm / public sex / public fingering / public orgasm / pantiless Word Count - 3092

Lucien shifted in his seat, trying to focus on his food, but his mind was still on her. He couldn't help but sneak glances at her, his eyes tracing over her form, imagining her adorned in the jewels he was going to win.They ate in relative silence for a few moments, Lucien trying to maintain his composure while his mind still reeled from her promise. He stole glances at her, trying to stay casual, but the desire to touch her, to just pull her onto his lap and claim her, was growing harder to restrain. As they finished their meal, Lucien pushed aside his empty plate and leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her.

Once dinner was collected up the auction began, Anastasia took the pen to see who got closet in their guessing game,

Lucien's hands cam one on the back of her chair to wrap around her the other rested comfortably on her thigh, his fingers tracing soft circles on her skin as they watched the auction progress. He was only partially paying attention, his mind still on her and the promise she had made. Every so often, he would glance down at her, his gaze tracing over her features before returning to the action at the front of the room. He leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "See anything else you like, darling?"

"Only one other thing" she cooed her hand coming down to squeeze his thigh

Lucien inhaled sharply as her hand squeezed his thigh, her touch sending a surge of heat through him. He chuckled softly, trying to keep outwardly cool and composed, even though her touch was driving him wild. He shifted closer, his lips against her ear again, his voice low and rough. "Only one, hm? And what might that be?"

"lot 101, the little ski lodge. I think it's cute not sure why someone's selling it"

Lucien chuckled at her choice, his hand subconsciously squeezing her thigh in response. "A ski lodge? Is my little assistant secretly a fan of winter sports?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. He looked at the booklet, at the listing for Lot 101, the images of the cozy little ski lodge,

"no, I just like snow. It's cute log fires, hot tub, big fur-covered beds, it seems so warm and cosy' she chuckled not thinking for a moment he'd be taking her wanting it seriously

Lucien's smirk widened at her description. The more she spoke, the more he could picture it. Soft blankets, a roaring fireplace, a cosy bed covered in fur... and her, wrapped in nothing but the fur covering the bed. He could feel the desire stirring even more strongly within him. The thought of having her in that setting was too tempting to resist. He shifted closer, his hand still on her thigh, and leaned in to whisper in her ear "You really like the sound of that, darling? Maybe I should bid on it for you."

"Lucien. No." She said squeezing his thigh, "It's much too expensive and what are you going to do with it anyway?"

Lucien chuckled at her protest, his hand still resting on her thigh. He knew she'd object, of course, she was too practical, too sensible. "Don't 'Lucien no' me, darling. I'm a billionaire, remember? Price is no object." He paused for a moment, a smirk on his lips. "And as for what I'm going to do with it... I can think of a few ideas. All involving you, of course."

"Your going to buy a hundred thousand dollar ski lodge in Canada? Just because I think it looks cosy? It would stay empty most of the time anyway it's not worth it. Besides I'm more than happy with just the pretty jewels, even if you don't have to get me them either"

Lucien chuckled at her persistence. Of course, she would argue and insist there was no need to buy the cottage. She was always practical like that, even when he desperately wanted to buy her something extravagant. "Darling, you know I don't care about the practicality. It's not about the money, it's about the experience. The idea of having a romantic getaway spot, just for us. Somewhere where we can escape, just the two of us, in the midst of the cold snowy mountains. Doesn't that sound appealing?"

"it does... But neither of us even skis"

Lucien chuckled at her counter. His hand moved up her thigh, his touch becoming more intimate. "Darling, who said we'd be snowboarding? It's all about the ambiance, the setting. The skiing is irrelevant, the beauty of the mountains, the cosy, candlelit bedroom, the hot tub... the possibilities are endless."

"I'm not going to argue" she gave in,

Lucien smiled triumphantly, knowing he had won that battle. He knew she'd given in, even though she was probably only humouring him. But that didn't matter, the thought of having a private getaway with her was too enticing to pass up. He ran his hand up and down her thigh, his touch becoming more seductive. "Good. No more arguments then. I’ll have a cute little ski lodge, and I'll have my gorgeous assistant all to myself in her cute little jewels."

"Lot 75, set of ring, necklace, and bracelet from 1843. Donated by the fashion history museum. The reserve is at two thousand dollars" the heads of the gala explained "Do we have a bid?"

Lucien leaned forward, his hand still on her thigh. his gaze snapped up to the screen, his eyes narrowing in focus. He waited for the bidding to begin, his mind racing with thoughts of her wearing the jewels. He didn't wait long before raising his paddle. "Two thousand." Lucien's voice was firm, his paddle held high. The other bidders seemed to hesitate, some backing down at the sound of his voice. He didn't wait for a response, his gaze focused on the stage, his mind on the jewellery he knew she would look so perfect in.

a few small bids come through but no one really that interested "Lot 75, sold to Lucien Crown for three thousand four hundred dollars”

Lucien felt a surge of satisfaction as his bid was declared the winner. When the gavel fell, announcing his victory, he felt a rush of triumph. He turned to look at her, a sly smile on his face. "Looks like you'll be getting those jewels after all, darling."

"you didn't have to do that Lucien" she blushed

Lucien's smirk widened at her blushing. He loved seeing her flustered, the way she tried to remain composed even though he could see the effect he had on her. He ran his hand further up her thigh, his touch becoming more possessive. "I know I didn't have to, darling. But I wanted to. Besides, I know you'll look absolutely gorgeous wearing them."

"thank you Lucien" she smiled kissing his cheek as secretly as she could

Lucien's breath hitched as she kissed his cheek, the unexpected gesture sending a jolt of desire through him. He reached up to touch the spot where her lips had just been, his fingers lingering on the skin as if trying to capture the feeling of her kiss. "You're welcome, darling. Just promise me one thing."

"yes?"

Lucien leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His hand moved up her thigh, his touch becoming more firm, more possessive. His gaze locked onto hers, his eyes dark with desire. "Promise me that you'll wear them tomorrow. And nothing else."

"I promise" She nodded before sipping her drink

Lucien felt a surge of desire at her promise, the thought of walking into his office tomorrow and seeing her wearing nothing but the jewels he had bought her was enough to drive him wild. He clenched his jaw, trying to maintain control, his eyes roaming over her form as she sipped her drink. "You know, you really know how to drive a man crazy, darling. The thought of seeing you in those jewels, my jewels, tomorrow... I might not be able to concentrate on work."

"When do you?" She teased him

Lucien chuckled, his hand tightening on her thigh in response to her playful tone. He leaned in closer, his lips near her ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. "You cheeky little minx. You love teasing me, don't you? You know exactly how I react to you, you know how you drive me wild with desire."

she chuckled not confirming or denying it as she knew both would only tease him more, when attention turned once more to the auction as pictures came up of the ski lodge

The lodge was a wood, steel and glass modern style lodge in Canada, a large master suite with a fireplace, jet bath and walk-in shower, two smaller guest suites, a large kitchen dinner, an open plan living room with a large fireplace, a balcony over the mountains with a hot tub and sauna. All of it is impressive and beautiful

Lucien's eyes were drawn to the screen, his gaze fixed on the images of the ski lodge. His first thought was that it was perfect, the setting, the furnishings, the secluded location. It would be a private paradise, a perfect getaway for them.

He could already picture it in his mind, the two of them tucked away in the cozy cabin, the fireplace crackling, the hot tub steaming in the cold air. But then he remembered her practicality, her insistence that it was too expensive and impractical. He turned to her, his gaze watching her reaction as she looked at the screen. He could see the hint of desire in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she took in the luxurious interior. He knew she wanted it, even though she would never admit it out loud. So he decided to play his hand, to try and convince her that it was worth the price.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, darling? Picture yourself there, sitting in front of the fire, the snow falling outside, the mountains in the background..."

"it is nice" Anastasia answered,

Lucien noticed her hesitation, the way she was trying to hold back her true feelings. He knew her too well, knew that she was fighting against her own desires. He couldn't resist teasing her, his hand gently squeezing her thigh.

"Just 'nice'?" he repeated, his voice laced with mock disappointment. "I thought you'd be a little more enthusiastic than that, darling. Isn't it picturesque? Romantic? Exactly the kind of place where two lovers could spend a passionate weekend?"

she let out a long sigh half to hide her excitement breaths at his hand moving higher and the other half at the fact he may actually do this and buy it. "... It would be a very cosy place, and I'm sure Christmas there would be picture perfect" she agreed "but it's alot of money, it's far away, we have alot of work with the business, it's far from... Your doctors and it would be dangerous if something happened which one ice and snow could very well happen" she reasoned with him "But, I'm your assistant. It's your money Mr Crown"

Lucien smirked as she tried to reason with him, listing all the practical reasons why buying the ski lodge would be a bad idea. He knew she was right, of course. It was a lot of money, it was far away, and they did have a lot of work to do. But he could also see the desire in her eyes, the way her breath hitched as he touched her thigh, and he knew he had her almost convinced. "You make valid points, darling," he said, feigning concern. "But..." He paused for a moment, his gaze on the screen, looking at the images of the cozy cabin in the woods. He could picture it so vividly, the two of them snuggled up in front of the fire, the snowflakes falling outside, the view of the mountains in the distance… He could feel the excitement building within him, his desire to have this place growing with every second. He turned back to her, his eyes glinting with determination. “It is worth it, a little place just for you and me, and I would pay so, so much to get you alone somewhere so perfect. Our own little romantic paradise.”

"it's your money," she said

Lucien chuckled at her words, his hand giving her thigh a possessive squeeze. He knew she was humouring him, indulging his impulsive decision to buy the lodge. He didn't care, though. "Yes, it is my money," he agreed with a sly grin. "And I'll spend it however I damn well please. And if that means buying a cosy little ski lodge for my gorgeous assistant and myself, then so be it." his hand slipping up under her sill dress touching her even higher than the slit in her dress he got a wicked idea resting his hand there as the bidding began

"Shall we start the bidding at 130." Immediately bids came in of course from Lucien himself but each time the price went up his hand slid a little inch higher under her silk dress

Lucien chuckled huskily, his hand still moving higher up her thigh, his touch becoming more intimate as the bidding started on the lodge. With each raise of the other bids, Lucien's hand inched higher up her thigh, his touch becoming more possessive, more intimate. He could feel her body responding to his touch - the way she tensed, the way she took a sharp breath, the way her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she quickly composed herself. He knew he was pushing the boundaries of propriety, and he didn't care. His hand stroked her thigh as he reached it rubbing his thumb hard against her hip bone, his fingers trailing across her searching for the strap of her panties but he didn't find it for a moment he was puzzled before her reactions became so obvious to him, he couldn't feel panties because she wasn't wearing any in that dress.

Lucien's eyes widened when he realized that she wasn't wearing any panties under her dress. The revelation sent a jolt of desire through him, his mind immediately imagining what else she was wearing under the silk fabric. He could feel her body shiver under his touch, her hips moving just slightly as he searched for the strap of her panties, only to find that there wasn't one. He let out a low, strangled moan, his hand frozen for a moment as he let the revelation sink in.

As the bidding began to slow, it seemed like Lucien was going to win the lodge. The other bidders began to drop out, the number on screen getting higher and higher. Lucien's mind was racing, his thoughts focused on one thing - Anastasia.

He could feel her body quivering under his touch, responding to the sensation of his hand under her dress. He could see her biting her lip, trying to maintain her composure in front of everyone. And he knew, in that moment, that he had to have her.

She coughed to cover a whimper as he moved his hand from her thigh to begin touching her mound, his smirk wide as he experienced the pleasure of a high adrenaline auction and that his assistant wasn't wearing anything under her dress, once he knew that of course he was going to take advantage, touching her enough to make her whimper "Lucien..." She gasps quietly

Lucien felt a thrill run through him as he heard her whimper, her breath catching in her throat as he touched her under her dress. He smiled slyly, his confidence growing as he felt her melt under his touch as he slid his fingers from her mound to her clit, "Shh, darling. Not so much arguing now, are you?" he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. He could feel her body responding to him, the way she pressed against his hand, the way she gasped his name. He moved his hand more deliberately and immediately found what made him smirk all the more as his fingers felt the softness of her skin and the wetness he caused there

"Lucien... Please.." she whimpers fighting a war with herself on if she should or shouldn't do this

Lucien chuckled huskily. He loved the way she whispered his name, the way she pleaded with him, her voice ragged with desire. "Please, what, darling? You have to use your words."

He moved his hand deeper, his touch becoming more deliberate, more insistent as he fingers circle her pussy and his thumb circling her sensitive clit and sending shivers through her body.

she gasped almost letting a moan slip out as her thighs shifted widening a little

Lucien felt her thighs widen at his touch, and he took it as an invitation to go further. He moved closer to her, his body pressing against hers as he continued to touch her intimately. "That's it, darling. Don't hold back. I want to hear you." He moved his fingers inside her in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. He could feel her body responding to him, the way she squirmed against his hand, her breath coming in gasps and little whimpers that she tried to muffle. He loved the sounds she was making, the way she was giving in to the sensations he was arousing. "You're so sensitive, darling. So sensitive and so responsive." his touch became more insistent, more demanding.

she almost squealed and he knew it was only a matter of time, and as it turned out not long at all

"Sold!" The auctioneer called out

Just as he did Anastasia tensed up grabbing Lucien's suit sleeve as she clenched and moaned into his ear just as everyone applauded concealing her noise as she reached her orgasm having to hide it on her face,

"The lodge, sold to Lucien Crown for 678 thousand dollars"

Lucien was barely aware of the auctioneer's words, the cheers from the crowd, or the sound of the next item being announced. His focus was entirely on her, the way she tensed up and grabbed his suit sleeve, her body shuddering as she came undone under his touch. As the applause filled the room, Lucien let out a low, satisfied chuckle, his hand still under her dress, his touch gentle and possessive. "678 thousand dollars well spent," he whispered in her ear.

"yes sir ..." She gasped leaning her head on his shoulder as she gasps her skin positively glowing from her orgasm, 

[yallemagne]

This might be a little disjointed because it's been a few days since I watched it, but my thoughts on season 2 of X-Men: The Animated Series:

Episode 1 & 2: Till Death Do Us Part

I know they’re having Logan going ham in the Danger Room because he’s in love with Jean, but lalala I can’t hear you, he’s ACTUALLY beating up fake Cyclopses in the Danger Room because of Morph’s death. 

Damn if Logan weren’t, frankly, acting like a little bitch, we could have gotten the Morph reveal much earlier. This is what angsting after a married woman does, Logan. You miss out on precious time with your resurrected bestie with benefits. 

Morph is my silly little pumpkin. Sinister is such a bastard that he lets Morph have temporary self-awareness just to torture them with it. That, or he is just very bad at maintaining his mind control. Anyhow, Morph declares that they’ll have their revenge and switch through different forms “Cyclops! Storm! Wolverine!” And upon turning into Wolverine they fall back on their bed and writhe in agony because that’s their BEST FRIEND. AHHH. 

Morph sending Cherik to the Savage Lands for a deadly date. This is like The Parent Trap but nefarious. 

Morph desperately trying to fight against the mind-control :,0. It's always when they're presented with the promise of being accepted back into the family. All they wanna do is be an X-Man again. 

"You kept me alive! And the evil that's in me! But the worst of us still has some good!" I'm sobbing.

Also yeah. The title is obviously referencing Scott and Jean’s wedding vows. But what if— lissen hear me out hear me out, it’s actually about Wolverine and Morph and their unbreakable bond.

Episode 3: Whatever It Takes

Mjnari, you scared me, boy. He kept getting himself into situations where I was like “YOU BETTER NOT BE MAKING A HEROIC SACRIFICE” and thankfully, no heroic sacrifice, just winning. 

Storm just casually having a son that she's not told anyone about and Rogue being like BABE WHAT??? Babe why did you never tell me you have a child with another woman??

Logan grabbing Morph’s wrists and restraining them behind their back in the weirdest hug imaginable. Gonna headcanon that that’s just how they normally hug because Logan is weird. Gotta use “I’m restraining you” as an excuse to get his arms around someone.

Morph changing between several exes arch enemies of Wolverine while trying to get him off his trail. Hoooo. Morph knows the Deep Lore. 

Episode 4: Red Dawn

Imagine being so stupid you make an indestructible super human who represents your values so well he resolves to murder you for not abiding by those values. And then imagine thawing him even though you couldn’t control him the first time because you want to restart the Soviet Union. Imagine getting through so many steps without thinking of the consequences even once.

Colossus is my sweet baby boy. I love how naively good he is and how it plays off Jubilee, who is also naive as hell. It’s perfectly demonstrated when Jubilee is just like “I’ll just leave a note! ‘Off to stop the reformation of the USSR, food’s in the fridge.’ Okay, let’s go!” And Colossus is like “Yes! Let’s!”

Wolverine gets home from Morph throwing Omega Red in his face during their confrontation to a note saying the runt went ahead to stop Omega Red with no backup?? The timing. 

Episode 5: Repo Man

Canada tries to steal Wolverine’s skeleton what the fuck. 

I appreciate that his old team steps in to save him because they never wanted to drag him back into experimentation, they just wanted their buddy back. 

It’s implied in the flashback in this episode and later on that Wolverine never had bone claws, they’re just a result of the adamantium? Yeah no. Makes no sense. His claws are literally what identify him as a mutant in several interactions. 

Episode 6: X-Ternally Yours

Dog, this weird cult-gang shit makes no sense to me. It’s good that Gambit got away from that nonsense. 

Lol Rogue getting upset that Gambit is getting married but immediately being like AHA when it’s revealed he’s there against his will. 

Episode 7 & 8: Time Fugitives

Absolutely genius having a time travel episode followed by a second time travel episode to fix the previous episode. They got to reuse so much animation, and frankly, I'm proud of them for the creativity they employ to be unoriginal. 

Episode 9: A Rogue's Tale

I already knew Rogue’s backstory, but hell, they really capture the dread of Rogue being forced by her mother to kill another person. There was so much innocence in her voice yelling that she didn’t want to hold on, that it felt wrong. God, I hate Mystique so much for this. Rogue is right in saying Mystique only cared about her powers. Sure maybe she does see her as a daughter, but would she have even spared the girl a second glance if she weren’t such a powerful mutant? Hell no. 

Episode 10: Beauty & the Beast

I was literally musing about how this episode's themes reminds me of Beauty and the Beast... and that's literally the title. 

Graydon Creed: “MUTANTS AND ALL THOSE RELATED TO THEM MUST BE DESTROYED!!!” Me: 👀 are you sure about that you dumb bitch.

Logan infiltrating the Friends of Humanity? Amazing. Showstopping. He did so amazing, bravo. Get this man an award. And y’all know he’s been sitting on the info that Creed is Sabretooth’s son for so long lol. It’s so cathartic of a reveal. 

I wonder… how does this affect Creed? After all, at the end of ’97, it’s said he’s got people rallying behind him as a political candidate. Did people just forget what a dirty snivelling little hypocrite he is? Did news of his parentage never reach the general public? Is it like water under the bridge bc he technically denounces his parents? What’s up with that?

(Aside: they call Sabretooth Graydon Creed Sr.. Yeah, I’d change my name to Victor. The real kicker is that he named his son after himself. No wonder Junior is so mad at his pops.)

Anyhow, even though it’s technically not canon to anything but the movie continuity, I’m gonna keep headcanoning Sabretooth and Wolverine as estranged brothers because I would love to see Logan continuing to hold this over Graydon’s head by telling him to call him ‘Uncle Logan’. 

Episode 11: Mojovision

I Dream of Jean fucking got me. Looks like Mojo’s programming is geared towards me. 

After reading Exiles I’m just sitting here like “:((( I wish Morph was here... Morph would be slaying…”

Episode 12 & 13: Reunion

See, Wolverine uses his claws here, and they have him say his claws aren’t a result of his mutation. Baby what? Now, I think it totally makes sense for his claws to still be functional even in a place where mutant powers are cancelled out. After all, they’re a part of his skeleton. Like if Nightcrawler were there, he wouldn’t lose the ability to move his tail, yeah? Just no teleporting. Is there really like a continuity where the claws aren’t a mutant trait???

Also his hands gotta really hurt doing that without his healing.

Anyhow MORPH MORPH MORPH MORPH

I love Wolvie meeting a fellow Wild Man. 

Morph is my sweet babe I love them so much, you go bitch, you fight that mind control, you shoot at Sinister so Cyclops can hit him with his beams. Go off queen. 

I haven’t really been giving notes about the Savage Lands before now because I found everything about it boring till this episode. And that’s because while I love me some Cherik, those fucks were getting absolutely nothing done. Besides like that one funny moment where Magneto was throwing rocks at a dino and calling it a stupid lizard. 

Love Charles briefing Erik about the steps he's gonna be taking to aid in Morph’s recovery?? So random. Like the present parent trying to get the absentee to get involved in their children’s lives. "We're gonna take Morph to Muir Island... 👉👈 if you want to visit..."

Magneto does not take the hint and bails on family like a coward. We'll get you yet, Magneto, even if it takes killing Charles to get you to provide for the kiddos.

[EDIT: oh yeah btw my thoughts on season 1]

[conradscrime]

5 Cases of Missing Indigenous Women in Canada

March 03, 2024

CARBON DOE

Carbon Doe was found on April 21, 1995, in a ditch outside the village of Carbon, in Alberta, Canada. She was likely last seen alive between 1980 to 1985, it is estimated that she was there for 10-15 years before her remains were found.

It is believed she is of Indigenous descent.

She was between 5'0-5'4 in height, had multiple dental fillings, and is possible she had children.

The woman had brucellosis, which means she would have suffered from repeated fevers. This disease is not common in Canada. She is estimated to be between 22-35 years old. She had dental work done, including stainless steel crowns.

There was no clothing or personal items found with her body. Some believe Carbon Doe was not from Alberta, but might have just been travelling at the time of her death. It is possible she was never reported as missing.

Her cause of death has never been released, though many suspect she was murdered.

2. Annie Yassie

Annie was born on July 27, 1960. Her family were members of the Sayisi Dene First Nation, located outside Churchill, Manitoba, Canada.

The Dene Village was promised a lot from the government, but did not get any support, never receiving promised hunting and trapping supplies. They had to scavenge for food in the dump. What happened to these people in this village was named one of the worst crimes against Indigenous people in Canada.

Annie was extremely close to her sister, Eva. She loved to sew doll clothes and was a fan of the "hippie" look, often wearing denim outfits. Annie loved Christmas, and her sister Eva said she sometimes would sleepwalk, which Eva would watch her closely.

In 1973, Annie was sent to the Mackay Residential School in Dauphin, Manitoba, far from Dene Village. The Christian Church ran these residential schools, and they were mostly made to abuse and strip Indigenous children away from their culture.

At the time Annie disappeared she had returned from the residential school and was staying with her brother Fred.

On June 22, 1974, Annie was apparently out with a man who was about 10 years older than her. The two were drunk and had been celebrating Treaty Day. The taxi driver said the man had to drag Annie out of the car because she was passing out, and the taxi driver was asked to pick them up later. They were dropped off 3km outside of Churchill.

When the taxi returned, the driver said Annie was not there, only the man. The man was extremely drunk. Fred did not worry immediately when Annie did not return, as he knew she had said she wanted to visit her sister Eva at some point.

Eva showed up to Dene Village on June 26, 1974, discovering that everyone had assumed Annie had been with her the past 4 days, which was not true. Annie was officially reported missing that day.

The man Annie was last seen with was questioned, but he claimed he was too drunk and did not remember much. The case went cold. In 2014, they reopened Annie's file. In June 2016, Eva was asked to give a DNA sample. It took some time for police to get to Eva again, and it is unknown if DNA was actually taken.

Eva believes her sister was murdered by the man she was seen with that night, however that man is no longer alive.

Annie Yassie was 13 years old when she went missing. She was last seen wearing a blue denim jacket, a pair of blue denim jeans, brown shoes with a 3" heel. She was thin build, 5'4, weighing around 104 pounds. She has black hair and brown eyes.

If anyone has info they are to contact the Cold Case Unit of the Winnipeg RCMP at 204-983-5461. If you would like to remain anonymous you can call Crime Stoppers at 1-800-222-8477.

3. Caitlin Potts

Caitlin was last heard from on February 22, 2016, through a Facebook message to her sister. She was 27 years old at the time, from the Sampson Cree First Nation. Caitlin was last seen by a witness in Enderby, British Columbia, Canada.

Caitlin was reported missing on March 1, 2016, however an official missing alert on the RCMP's website did not appear until March 21.

In June 2016, Caitlin's mother, Priscilla, contacted Indigenous groups in the province to help conduct a search for her daughter. Caitlin was in foster care until she was 11 years old.

Priscilla describes her daughter has happy as a child and extremely smart. Caitlin was born and raised in Alberta, however was living in B.C. at the time of her disappearance. Caitlin was living in Edmonton, Alberta with her younger sister, Codi, before recently moving to Enderby, B.C. where her boyfriend had moved.

Caitlin did not have the best relationship with her boyfriend and the two were on and off for about 2 months before she had disappeared. Codi claims Caitlin's boyfriend was physically abusive towards her and Caitlin would show up with bruises.

Codi said Caitlin's boyfriend had been arrested before and during that time Caitlin had stayed in a Salmon Arm women's shelter. Caitlin was doing good, going to school and working at Tim Horton's, however a few months later she went back to him.

Codi said Caitlin had texted her boyfriend the day she went missing and was upset over money he owed her. Caitlin also messaged Codi that she had found a ride to Calgary from Kijiji. Caitlin's roommate from the women's shelter had said Caitlin told her she met a stranger the night before.

Caitlin was seen by a witness in Enderby, and she had texted her sister that she was in Kelowna, B.C. before she disappeared.

Caitlin Potts was about 5'3, 150 pounds with brown eyes and long black hair with blonde streaks. Anyone who has info is to contact the Vernon RCMP at 250-545-7171 or anonymously Crime Stoppers at 1-888-222-8477.

4. Betsy Rosa Owens

Betsy was born July 7, 1973. She was a member of the Pauingassi First Nation, in Manitoba, Canada, and was extremely close with her sisters, Caroline Owens and Valerie Leveque. Betsy loved swimming with her sisters in Fishing Lake.

Betsy was described as a nice girl, who would go out of her way to avoid trouble. She loved music, and at the time of her disappearance she loved the song "Manic Monday" by The Bangles.

On October 22, 1988, Betsy was going to attend a dance with her boyfriend. Betsy and her boyfriend left the dance around 11pm. The last time her boyfriend saw her was the next morning, October 23, when she left his house.

Community members searched for Betsy as soon as she was discovered as missing, however no one found anything. Law enforcement conducted searches in 1996 and 1997 and found nothing.

In 2013, Caroline provided samples of DNA in case Betsy's remains were ever found.

Many rumours have been spread throughout the community, with many members believing they know who was involved in Betsy's disappearance. Betsy's family is not happy with police, as they say they rarely visit Pauingassi First Nation, and should have made more of an effort.

The lead investigator believes Betsy was met with foul play, but there's not enough evidence to arrest anyone.

Betsy was 15 years old at the time of her disappearance. She was last seen wearing a white cotton hooded sweater, a blue denim jacket, blue denim jeans and white high top runners. She was slender built, 5'3 in height, and weighed 119 pounds. She has long black hair and brown eyes.

If Betsy was alive today she would be 50 years old, turning 51 in July 2024. If you have any info you can contact the Winnipeg detachment of the RCMP at 204-983-5461.

5. Tamara Lynn Chipman

Tamara was from Moricetown Band, First Nation, now known as Witset, in British Columbia, Canada. She loved going on her dad's fishing boat and being outside. Tamara was described as lively and would not back down from a situation.

Tamara was 22 years old and the mother of a 2 year old son, when she went missing on September 21, 2005, near Prince Rupert, B.C. Being a young mother, it was said that Tamara began to hangout with the wrong crowd.

The people close to Tamara had speculated that she may be getting involved in drugs. In September 2005, Tamara had been in Prince Rupert, where her mother lived, for a few days without a car, as her car had broken down a few weeks earlier. Tamara was hitchhiking east, towards Terrace where her father lived.

In early November 2005, Tamara's father, Tom, realized no one had heard from his daughter and her rent had not been paid. Her bank account had also not been touched. Tom reported Tamara missing to the RCMP.

On November 15, 2005, an official search for her began. There was a claimed sighting of her in Vancouver, but no further evidence was found.

There was no named suspects but RCMP say they are pretty certain they know what happened. Two men and one woman have come forward claiming to have seen Tamara hitchhiking and picked her up. The woman said they were driving towards Terrace, when one of the men began arguing with Tamara and hit her, strangling her to death in the car.

They then pulled over in a remote area along the highway and dumped her body. The man who killed her returned to the area later to move and bury her body in the forest. The police searched this supposed area with the woman but Tamara's body was never home. The witness and two men have since died.

Tamara was last seen on an stretch of Highway 16, between Prince George and Prince Rupert, also known as the Highway of Tears, because many have disappeared from this highway.

Tamara's disappearance remains unsolved and no body has ever been found if the claims of her being murdered are true.

[magapatriot64]

The most prestigious election in the world. The Presidency of the United States. Usually two candidates hammering out their agendas and their promises if they are able to win the most coveted job, the Presidency. Something changed. The Democrats have changed the game. Democrats no longer run on agenda. They have no agenda. Their goal? Destroying our America. How can they win after failure upon failure? Sell fear. Sell the people their opponent is bad for business. Lie about him and scare the people if they win our Democracy will end. Democracy? They mean Democrat Power. They use a rigged media to deliver nothing but lies, fear, and bullshit propaganda. Their message? Vote for us or die a slow death.

Democrats say if you are black and don’t vote for Kamala you should check your race and if you are white and don’t vote for Kamala you are racist. This here is their way to guilt you into voting for them.

They say Trump will be a dictator. They say Trump will cause bloodbaths in the streets if he loses. All lies. They tell you Trump is for the rich, wants to end Social Security, Medicare, low prescription prices. All lies and they know it. None of that matters when the coveted prize of power is at stake. It is no holds barred and they will eat their own to keep their quest for power and end our Constitutional Republic and replacing it with a NWO. They want to be the ruling class that rules the world.

If only the people who support the Dems could stop buying the bullshit and start opening their eyes and ears and learn the truth about the Party they defend and plan on voting for.

Kamala Harris already said the quiet part out loud. They want to depopulate the world. This isn’t fake propaganda, this is reality. They no longer support our most important ally, instead support the terrorists they are fighting. Proof? Kamala refused to meet with Netanyahu but if their money laundering CEO Zelensky came to town, they’d be rolling out the red carpet and another blank check. Where does it all end? It doesn’t if they stop Trump. They tried everything from smear campaigns, to trying to lock him up, when all failed they tried to end his life. Protecting Democracy simply means protecting the Democrat Party.

How important is this election? Imagine this. If the wheels on the bus, passage of time word salad Queen ever gets the White House it’s game over. You thought Biden was a puppet of the Obama far left? Kamala makes them all look like Conservatives compared to where she wants to take this country. The budget? What budget. They’ll be printing Monopoly money. Our schools? Education will be a thing if the past. It will be all about DEI training and government control. There will be no future because there will be no country. The open borders are all part of the plan. They are our replacements. They will be the slave class to help put their operation in motion. And that will start with getting rid of us. They already want to get rid of the old and sick. Just look at Canada. They think it’s ok to end your lives.

They want to control our food, our medicine, our doctors, mandating vaccines, and telling you how to live. Do you trust them? What the hell is in the food or water we ingest? What is in all the medicine we take? The only people that no their end game is we Conservatives and they know it. That is why they labeled us MAGA. Easier for them to find us and end us. Their mind games and controlling all started with having their base brainwashed against all of us and the end goal is to take us all out.

One problem. We all know this. Trump knows this. We also have goals. Our goals are simple. Keep Trump safe, return him to the White House, and flip the script by ending every last one of them, who is running their shit show, and finally returning our America. We have God. Our faith with the chosen one, Trump will end all this madness and restore civility forever in this the greatest Country in the world. My two cents.

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