#best gaming controller UK

[crazydiscostu]

HEXGAMING BLADE (custom) Controller for XBOX, PC and Mobile

The HEXGAMING BLADE Controller presents itself as the latest innovation in the evolving landscape of gaming peripherals, offering a blend of customisation and performance that appeals particularly to competitive gamers and enthusiasts alike. This controller is designed to meet the rigorous demands of tactical eSports, where precision and adaptability are paramount. Join us for a look at this…

[inuyashaluver]

Hi!!! How are things? Idk if you saw the picture of Leah in the black pinstripe suit… suffice to say I’ve been having thoughts… and a request pinged through my mind: Leah meeting reader while wearing the suit (first time meeting; connection at first glance) and Leah stays by reader’s side throughout the evening. Heavy flirting, touchy, more dominant bf Leah who brings reader into her arms (basically takes control😩) and suring conti cup celebrations, Leah sees reader wearing her suit jacket and gets cocky. I’m thinking reader is the mysterious hot babe who everyone is wondering about

Love your work and thank you for the Jenni and Misa fics❤️❤️

suit and tie - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which a pretty blonde steals your heart with her suit and tie

warnings: flirty, flirty, flirty, swearing, suggestive

a/n: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP - you guys can’t expect me to react normally about this picture, come on! thank you for the love, gorgeous, enjoyyyyy xx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and leah never believed in love at first sight until you both laid eyes on each other. the instant attraction was obvious for the both of you, hence why as soon as your eyes made contact, you knew you needed to have each other.

—

leah wasn’t really much of a party person. sure, she had fun at parties, but if you were to ask her how she wanted to spend a rare saturday she had off, it most definitely was not at a party.

but because leah values loyalty, when her best friend, alex, begged her to come to a british vogue party, full of the uk’s best in 2022, who was she to decline the puppy dog eyes?

and so, with effective convincing, leah shrugged on her best suit, resisting the eye roll when her best friend assured her this party would be fantastic.

you also weren’t really much of a party person ever, but because of your field of work, you always got dragged to them.

you’re a sports journalist and interviewer. one that was extremely valued not only in the football community, but other sports also.

you took great pride in actually taking time to do your research, to know about your athletes and asked them the questions that actually mattered.

at this time, you were quite new, not really having the opportunity to meet a lot of athletes, including leah.

it took you a while to get to leah’s side of the pitch, and before you had met, you weren’t even doing anything on the field, rather being the one on the television talking about stats and predictions for the games.

—

when leah walked in the room that night, the atmosphere was bustling and she was already regretting coming.

though she held herself well, posture up right with a confident smile present as she walked through the crowds, exchanging polite conversation with familiar faces.

she found a name card with her name on it settled on a table near the back of the room, dimly lit with candlelight amongst the chatter and clinking glasses amongst the room.

she settled, adjusting her suit jacket, slightly tousling her hair in frustration at realising alex wasn’t even sitting on the table with her.

she didn’t know anyone here, about to pull out her phone until she heard a gentle “excuse me, sorry, could i just get through?” sounding from behind her, someone came up next to her and leaned forward to examine the name card next to hers.

a dizzying scent of vanilla flooded her senses, her eyes subconsciously following the smell to look up at the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life. it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

her mouth slightly hung open as she met the person’s eyes, this person being you. you were slightly shocked when you and leah made eye contact, feeling your breath hitch at how gorgeous she was.

everything in the room faded as leah looked at you, there was just something irresistible about you that leah couldn’t comprehend, she hadn’t even said a word to you yet.

after what felt like an eternity, you send a quick smile, pulling out the chair and sitting next to her, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

leah gave herself an internal pep talk, turning slightly to you, her hand extending to yours, “hi, i’m leah” she pronounces, making you look over at her with a surprised smile, a little giggle escaping your mouth, sent straight to leah’s heart which felt like was hammering out of her chest.

you place your hand in hers, shaking it gently with a charming smile, you were so nervous, the girl’s gaze not helping you at all. “(y/n)” you share, enjoying how soft her hands felt against yours,

“it’s lovely to meet you” she grins, “likewise” an electric current passed between you before you reluctantly returned your hands to your laps.

you stayed silent for a moment, before nudging her shoulder with yours softly, “did you get dragged to this as well?” you whisper, leah chuckles.

you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone in your life and you’ve just met her. leah was feeling the exact same, wanting to impress you and really hoping she doesn’t fuck this up.

“i did actually” she laughs, “don’t tell me you were as well?” she smiles at you, you nod with a grin, “indeed i was” you sigh, taking a swig of the complementary cocktail on the table, wincing when you took a sip.

“what the fuck is that?” you cough, leah looks over at you in surprise, “that bad?” she says with a laugh, watching as you take a sip of some water,

“disgusting, haven’t you tried it?” you grimace, she shakes her head, “if i had it, so do you” you demand, making the blonde laugh in disbelief.

“who made up that rule?” she challenges amusingly, you grab her glass, lifting her hand and directing her fingers over it, pressing your hand over hers for a moment and she swears her body was on fire.

“i did, drink up then, go on” you smile sweetly, leah offers you another smile, shaking her head with a little laugh before she took a little sip of the drink, matching your wince with how bad it was.

you laugh brightly at her expression, making her heart swell with pride, wanting to make you laugh like that again.

“that’s awful” she affirms, “i can’t believe you made me drink that, i thought we had something going here” she flirts, you smirk knowingly, understanding that both of you caught each other’s drift.

leah just exuded confidence, now leaning her head on her hand resting on the table, adjusting so she could face you. you offer her an amused expression, angling your body to mirror her position.

“we can suffer together?” you say cheekily, leah huffs out a laugh, “come to the bar with me?” she offers, you nod instantly, watching as she stood first, her hand held out to you.

you accepted it gratefully, letting her pull you out of your seat, and once you were upright, her hand made its way to the small of your back, directing you through the crowded room.

when you both reached the bar, she made you stand in front of her slightly in a protective nature, leaning down to speak into your ear directly,

“what would you like, gorgeous?” you swallowed the lump in your throat, telling her what you wanted and watching as she ordered for you and her without hesitation.

you turn around to face her as you both waited for the drinks to be prepared, seemingly busy. she offered you a charming smile as you met her gaze head on, feeling a little nervous at the intensity of her stare.

your eyes trail to her suit and back up to her face, apparently exposing yourself leah could clearly tell you were adorning her attire.

she silently challenges you with a cheeky grin, “you alright, pretty girl?” you return her smirk, feeling a little confident yourself, feeling comfortable with leah.

“just appreciating a good suit” you shrug, your hand extending slightly to trace the lapel of it with your finger, leah watched your movement with sharp eyes, barely breathing at your proximity.

“or maybe i’m appreciating the woman in it?” you say innocently, leah flatlined right there. she chuckled lowly, moving closer to you slightly,

“well you’re a sight for sore eyes” leah drawled, hand resting on your hip for a moment before her head nodded towards the drinks now placed on the bar behind you.

her hand seeks refuge on your lower back again, effectively weaving through the room to your seats again. leah only got rid of the contact to pull out your chair, offering you a sweet smile while she gestured you to sit.

when she sat down next to you, her chair was essentially pressed up against yours, her thigh slightly brushing yours, sending a shiver up both of your spine’s.

“so, leah, tell me about yourself” leah and you both share a little giggle, flirting shamelessly as she talked about her, you listened to her intently, she fell for you a little more at seeing you actively listening to her.

you were asking her questions to clarify when you didn’t understand, sharing your own words but not in an overbearing way, adding to the conversation in a way that made things fluid. easy. familiar.

when the blonde directed her own interrogation on you, she listened to each word with extreme focus, smiling when she’d catch your gaze, both of you somehow managing eye contact.

it was like a first date, the way you both shared parts of your lives, it certainly felt like one.

it was clear there was a spark there, the amount of things you had in common was uncanny. both of your hearts raced a little faster when you thought about where this could potentially go, you two were perfect for each other.

the air between the two of you was thickened with anticipation and attraction, the flirting making both of your stomach’s absolutely flip. there was just something so magnetising about the two of you, irresistible like a moth to a light.

her laugh was infectious and so was yours, a smile cracking between the two of you that had your cheeks hurting. each exchanged glance and playful piece of banter made the tension simmer, both of you slowly drawing each other in.

“do you want to dance?” you said with kind eyes, leah nods without hesitation, letting you drag her to the dance floor.

the two of you danced with shared giggles, lingering touches as your bodies moved together. and even though leah and you had obviously skipped multiple steps with each other, she remained respectful, not pushing any boundaries as she danced with you.

you appreciated it, appreciated her and she most definitely appreciated you. the thought of her fucking this up eating her alive and it hadn’t even happened.

“i wasn’t going to come tonight but i’m happy i did” leah said next to your ear, goosebumps rising on your skin when her breath gently grazed it. you smile at her, “me too” your hand moving to gently squeeze her bicep.

you both made way to the table once more after you both got tired, basically sitting on top of each other at this point. you continued to chat and laugh together, feeling like you’d known each other all your lives.

as the night progressed, your hands went over your arms due to a little chill suddenly being present in the room. leah was extremely observant, shrugging off her jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.

you open your mouth to protest but leah fixes you with a little glare, making you roll your eyes slightly before you let her direct your arms into the jacket, her scent making you smile as it surrounded you, more than it already was.

the party was slowly filtering out and you and leah prolonged it as much as you could until essentially getting kicked out.

she walks you out with your arm around her bicep, smiling at people as you walked past. you were both outside and gave each other slightly sad smiles, the thought of the night ending leaving a little crack in both of your hearts.

“i had a lot of fun with you tonight” you smile at her, “so did i, a lot of fun” she smiles back, her eyes trailing all over your face as you looked at each other.

“so, williamson, can i have your number?” you say cheekily, your cheeks a little pink as you asked, leah smiles fondly, nodding and fishing her phone out of her bag, prompting you to do the same. “beat me to it, cheeky”

you exchanged numbers, hands brushing against each other’s as you gave back one another’s phone.

“i have to say, you suit that jacket a lot better than me” she smirks, you shake your head, “thank you, but you’re otherworldly in this” you flirt, making her cheeks burn as she avoided your gaze for a moment.

her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek for a moment with a chuckle, taking the leap and pulling you closer so her lips were ghosting yours.

her eyes bore into yours, glancing down at your lips as her breath fanned them gently, your heart spiked, feeling incredibly warm.

your eyes flicker down at hers before she closed the gap, her lips moving softly with yours. you sigh against her as she pulls you closer by your hips, your hand gently holding the side of her neck as you kissed her.

she pulls away with a sharp breath, her breath mingling with yours as her forehead resting against yours. “let me take you out, tomorrow?” she says almost a little desperately, but you both were honestly.

“okay” you breathe out, she smiles before pressing a tender kiss to your mouth, her thumbs rubbing gently over your waist as she pulled away at arms length.

you smile at her sheepishly, her sporting her own shy smile as she looked at you. the two of you giggle again, not really believing the circumstances of kissing your dream girl and going on a date the next day.

she waits until you get picked up by your taxi, pulling you into a warm hug, the embrace soft and gentle, contrasting the insufferable flirting you’d been torturing each other with all night.

“i’ll give you back your jacket on our date” you say cheesily, leah laughs, brushing a stray hair away from your face before she cradles your cheek, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone affectionately.

she presses a parting kiss to your lips, “can’t wait, baby” she whispers against you, pecking your mouth again quickly before she ushered you to go home, not wanting you to linger out in the cold.

you texted all night, sleeping at an ungodly time but it was all worth it. leah took you on that date and you both fell in love, suddenly claiming yourselves as party people.

—

you’d now been dating for a little over two years, infatuated an understatement for your relationship. you moved in together, both of you flourishing with each other in your respective careers but also with one another.

people knew the two of you were dating, you were the definition of private but not a secret. your social media for each other was essentially a shrine.

—

it was the continental cup final, arsenal vs chelsea. you and alex were the main journalists covering the match that leah was extremely excited about.

during warm ups, she threw you a cocky grin with a wink as she saw you getting mic’d up, only growing when she realised what you were wearing.

the blazer from the night she swept you off your feet all those years ago. you wave at her when she blows you a kiss with a wave, grinning as alex teased the both of you while you both prepared.

when the final whistle blew and leah got dragged into a group hug, she bounded over to you.

“arsenal have won the continental cup!” you exclaim, feeling a body attach to you from behind, strong arms wrapped around your middle while multiple kisses were pressed to your cheeks.

you lean back into the body, already knowing it was your girlfriend’s. “leah williamson is clearly happy about the win” alex teases, making leah smile against your cheek,

her hand moves over yours holding the microphone, “very happy” she chuckles, moving to stand next to you with her hand on your hips, staying for a short interview conducted by alex.

you gave her heart eyes the whole time, buzzing with excitement to congratulate her properly off camera. if you weren’t confirmed officially with the blonde, you definitely were now.

as soon as the staff yelled ‘cut’, leah pulled you into a kiss, your arms wound around her neck as her arms went around your waist again.

“hi, gorgeous” she mumbles against your lips, “hey, champion” you grin proudly, pecking her lips a couple of times while she smiles down at you.

“congratulations, my winner” you pinch her cheek softly, she moves her head quickly to jokingly bite your finger, relishing in the giggle she elicited from you. “thank you, my girl” she winks,

“this is a nice blazer, where’d you get this?” she teases, you can’t help but smile at her, “oh, it’s my girlfriend’s” you kiss her again, her hands move to squeeze your hips.

“you look absolutely gorgeous” she breathes out, “so sweet, my love, so do you” you grin, leah smirks, “i prefer you with nothing on but that’s for my eyes only” she says lowly in your ear, you gasp and slap her shoulder lightly,

“you can’t be sweet for two seconds-” you scold, cut off with her lips against yours again in a gentle kiss, making you hum against her before you ushered her to get her medal and lift the trophy.

after the trophy was lifted, she made a quick effort to grab a bottle of champagne and chase you around with it, threatening to spray it on you. you both laugh loudly as you ran around the pitch, your hearts full of affection for each other.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s yours and leah’s blazer 🫠! ily alex x

liked by alexscott2 and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: double win if you ask me

view all comments

yourname: so cheesyyyyyy

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you love it

↳ yourname: do i?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh you definitely do

↳ yourname: don’t be so sure of yourself, williamson

↳ leahwilliamsonn: extremely. thin. ice.

[somedayillbepeterpan]

A recommendation on how to watch Bridgerton S3 (this all based on my indulgent obsession with Polin so don't kill me).

After 5 days and 5 rewatches, my sugar high is down to a normal level and my emotions have finally settled down. I find that on my 5th rewatch, the angst really wasn't angsty anymore and I enjoyed the entertainment of S3.

Truly, the part 1 and part 2 release did damage on taking the show as a whole but the numbers show that S3 still did immeasurably better than S1 and S2 in terms of viewing numbers so I'm happy for that.

So, this I think is the best way to watch S3 (disclaimer: it will take longer than your normal binging but I think it's worth doing it).

Watch all of S1-S2 Polin scenes. Here's a youtube clip that compiles most of their scenes: https://youtu.be/SgOLTyKJg-Y?si=HpPAY1pN20Pk8h0-

Watch, listen, or read your favourite Luke and Nic interviews and drown yourself in all that chemistry. I started my own youtube playlist of all the Bridgerton S3 interviews but here are some of my faves: Shondaland's A Dance Story (bts of the ep4 ball with Lord Debling), Tudum 2022 Ad-lib game, Cosmopolitan UK press junket full interview, Afebre red carpet interview, etc)

Look at all the premiere and press tour photos. I rank some of them on this post: S3 Press Tour outfits

Watch S3 in its entirety. Preferably with no breaks. Because watching the carriage scene and the mirror scenes back to back is its own kind of magic.

I watched Part 2 sleep-deprived and drunk from the Luke and Nic's chemistry and then with a lingering disappointment after I saw the pap photo. I wasn't on the delulu land but I did agree with how the timing felt really off. After finishing part 2, my emotions were in such shambles that I couldn't properly judge the season.

But after taking control of my emotions and a bit of needed sleep, I appreciated S3 more and more. And I started to look at it as a whole season rather than the 2 parts.

It's not perfect but for me, this is still the best season ever.

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter six

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . this isn’t proof read because between this and my uni work i’ve been staring at my laptop all day so my eyes are killing me, sorry! )

Mason's living room buzzed with the friendly banter and laughter as Y/N, Ben, Reece and Mason gathered for a night in. It had been a while since the four of them had spent time together casually, so they all found time for a night of takeaway pizza, beer and video games. The glow of the TV screen illuminated their faces, casting a warm ambiance across the room and the air was thick with the camaraderie of a makeshift FIFA tournament.  

Ben and Reece started them off, their thumbs dancing across the controllers in a fierce match. It was a close call, but Ben emerged victorious, celebrated with an exaggerated victory dance that drew laughs from the others. Up next was Y/N and Mason, it was no secret that Y/N wasn’t particularly skilled in FIFA, in comparison to Mason who had dedicated a large portion of his teenage years to the game. The game had started with Mason going one goal up in a matter of seconds, however once he had seen a look of subtle disappointment spread across her face, he very slightly adjusted his play, letting her take the win. She was more than taken aback when she secured an unexpected win and Mason's mock disappointment was met with Y/N's triumphant grin, and a knowing look passed between the man and his friends as they sussed out what he had done.  

As the next match kicked off between Ben and Y/N, the room echoed with a mix of playful taunts and infectious laughter. The game was fast-paced, and because Ben had no reason to let Y/N win; she quicky found herself trailing a few goals behind.  

“So, Y/N, when’s your next date with Max?” Reece asked her as she was trying and failing to stop her opponent from scoring once again.  

Ben, momentarily distracted from the game, swiveled his head in surprise, "Wait, you guys went on a date? Why am I always the last to know?" 

Mason remained silent, observing the situation and wishing that Reece hadn’t brought up Max. Y/N, with a nervous chuckle, downplayed the encounter, "It was just a casual thing. Next time, I promise to give you a heads-up, Ben." 

Reece, ever perceptive, probed further, "Any plans for a follow-up date?" 

Y/N sighed, an air of disappointment trailing her words “I don’t know, we wanted to do something but it's so hard with our schedules and being so far away. He’s in the UK this weekend but with the charity gala on Sunday I’m just swamped with stuff to do.” 

The sadness in Y/N’s eyes was unmissable to Mason and without a second thought he blurted out, "Why don't you invite him to the gala?" The suggestion hung in the air for a moment, and he felt a twinge of uncertainty. Reece shot him a subtle, questioning glance, recognizing the potential complications, but Mason's gaze was fixed on Y/N.  

A spark of hope flickered in Y/N's eyes, and she hesitated for a moment before responding, "You don't have to do that for me, Mason." 

Yet, Mason could see the excitement building in her, so he insisted, "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Invite him. It'll be a good time." 

Y/N's response was a delighted squeal, and she abandoned the ongoing FIFA match with Ben to envelop Mason in a tight hug. Ben, interrupted mid-game, groaned theatrically, but Y/N didn’t even hear his complaints; too busy thanking her best friend. As she hugged Mason tightly, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him. Her joy was infectious, and he found solace in the simple act of having her in his arms. The comfort of their embrace was undeniable, a familiar feeling that stirred emotions he had grown accustomed to. 

Yet, beneath the surface, there lingered a bittersweet tinge. Mason couldn't ignore the slight disappointment that crept in when he realized it was the thought of Max that lit up Y/N's eyes so brilliantly. He cared for her deeply, and her happiness mattered more to him than anything, even if it meant setting aside his own desires. 

The evening past quicky, and soon the men found themselves alone, with Y/N going home to get an early night. The second she left though, Mason found himself getting whacked over the head semi-gently by Reece.  

“Ow man what the fuck was that?” he asked, completely baffled as to what he had done to make his friend do that.  

“Why the hell would you tell Y/N she can invite Max on Sunday?” Reece asked, before smacking his best friend around the head again. 

“Fuck ow stop that” Mason said pushing him away and sighing “I don't really know. She looked sad, disappointed, and I wanted to cheer her up. So, I suggested she invite Max to the gala. It's not a big deal." 

Reece, never one to let things slide, persisted. "You remember the last time you had to be around them together, right? And that was when they were just starting to get to know each other. Now, they've been on dates. How are you going to cope with that?" 

Mason waved off the concern, a forced nonchalance in his tone. "It had been a bad few days that weekend. I'll be fine now." 

Ben, chiming in with a touch of confusion, asked, "What's the problem? Y/N seems to really like Max. Isn't that a good thing? You can stop worrying about her liking you." 

Mason managed a half-smile, but there was a depth of complexity in his expression. "Yeah, exactly. That's why I suggested she invite him." Despite his words, a tinge of dejection lingered, and Reece caught on. There was something more beneath the surface, but he decided not to press further in front of Ben, though as they continued their evening, he couldn't shake the feeling that Mason's nonchalant demeanor masked a more profound turmoil. He silently resolved to keep a watchful eye on his friend, sensing there might be more to Mason's emotions than he was letting on. 

As Sunday approached, Y/N found herself immersed in a whirlwind of preparations for Mason's charity gala. The days leading up to the event were a blur of coordinating details, arranging decorations, and ensuring everything was in place. In the midst of her busy schedule, Y/N managed to invite Max, who enthusiastically accepted the invitation. 

However, as the day of the gala arrived and Y/N finally had a moment to breathe, a wave of anxiety and anticipation washed over her. The realization that she would see Max again, especially with Mason also present, brought a mix of nerves and excitement. The thought of navigating the evening with both men in attendance added an extra layer of complexity to her emotions. 

Mason, for his part, seemed to have reverted to his old self. Their interactions resumed a sense of normalcy, with one notable exception – the majority of their physical contact had faded away. Y/N understood the reasons behind this shift, but it still contributed to the charged atmosphere surrounding the gala 

As Y/N adorned herself in an elegant ballgown, Mason arrived to pick her up for the gala. The moment he laid eyes on her, he was utterly gobsmacked by her beauty. A quiet awe filled the space between them as he took in her appearance. 

Driving to the venue, Y/N attempted to focus on the logistical details of the event, discussing what needed to be done throughout the night. However, Mason interjected, informing her that she had the day off. He insisted that he could handle the responsibilities, emphasizing that she deserved to enjoy the evening without being burdened by work. 

Surprised by his gesture, Y/N questioned his decision, pointing out the multitude of tasks that required attention. Mason simply responded, "I've got it covered. You should spend the night with Max; it wouldn't be fair to bring him here and then have you running around all night." 

Grateful for his consideration, Y/N thanked him again, a genuine smile gracing her face. They stepped out of the car, and she couldn't resist giving Mason another appreciative hug before entering the venue. 

Max arrived shortly after in a tailored black suit, looking effortlessly sharp. Y/N couldn't help but notice just how good he looked as he kissed her on the cheek and complimented her appearance. They made their way to the table where Mason, Reece, Ben, and Ben's girlfriend were seated. Max greeted everyone with a warm smile, shaking hands with each person. Mason, determined to appear calm and collected, reciprocated the gesture with a firm handshake. 

As the night unfolded, the group engaged in lively conversation. Max, ever polite, directed his attention toward Mason, expressing genuine interest in the charity work he was involved in. Mason shared his longstanding commitment to Together for Short Lives, explaining that he had been supporting the organization since the early days of his football career. He emphasized his desire to give back and contribute to meaningful causes. Y/N chimed in, “Mason has always been so great with this stuff, I love working with someone who devotes so much time to helping people”. Mason, though modest, felt a surge of pride at Y/N's words, appreciating her admiration. 

Dinner was served, and the atmosphere around the table buzzed with conversation and laughter. Y/N and Max, engrossed in their own dialogue, spoke quietly, creating an intimate space between them amidst the lively ambiance of the event. Mason couldn't help but find his attention drawn toward them, curious about the nature of their conversation. He observed Max leaning in, whispering something that prompted Y/N's laughter. The sight of her hand resting casually on Max's biceps, the way she bit her bottom lip while looking at him, stirred a complex mix of emotions in Mason. It was an involuntary response to witnessing the dynamics between them. 

As Y/N and Max excused themselves to go to the bar, Mason's eyes followed their every move. He noticed Max's hand gently placed on the small of Y/N's back as they walked away. Reece, observing Mason's silent contemplation, sipped his whiskey, sensing the tension in the air. The quiet yet intense scrutiny Mason directed toward Y/N and Max didn't go unnoticed. At the bar, Mason watched with an almost laser-like focus as Y/N leaned in, whispering something to Max. The image of her cherry-red lips grazing Max's skin lingered in Mason's mind, leaving an imprint that he couldn't quite shake. 

Y/N, however, was far too wrapped up in Max’s company to notice Mason’s lingering gazes. Any anxiety that she had that things between them would be awkward after she ran away from their date was quickly proved wrong, with the pair of them seemingly only getting closer. 

“Have a mentioned how beautiful you look tonight Y/N” he whispered in her ear, prompting a small giggle to escape from her lips. 

“Oh, only a few dozen times I think” she feigned uninterest before breaking into giggles, resting her head on the Deutchmans shoulder beside her; suddenly feeling herself becoming very flustered.  

"Do you want to step outside for a bit? It's a bit crowded in there." 

Max agreed, and Y/N slipped her hand into his as they strolled away from the lively gala. They found a quiet bench under the stars and sat down, the ambient sounds of the night surrounding them. 

"Thank you for inviting me," Max said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I've had a lot of fun with you tonight." 

Y/N smiled warmly. "I've had a great time too. I just wish we could see each other more." 

Max's eyes sparkled as he responded, "I'm racing in Austria next week, I’d love for you to come along. And, I know you said you want to take things slow and I respect that, but you know, the offer to take you to Monaco is always open." 

His words hung in the air, and Y/N found herself looking at him, drawn in by the magnetic connection between them. Before she could process her own actions, an unexpected surge of courage propelled her forward. Without a second thought, she leaned in, capturing Max's lips with hers. The kiss was a revelation, a moment suspended in time. Y/N felt a gentle warmth spreading through her, a tender acknowledgment of shared feelings. Max's lips were soft against hers, and the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet corner under the stars. 

For Y/N, the kiss was nothing short of magic. It was a sweet exploration of a newfound connection, a silent affirmation of the unspoken desires that had lingered between them. Their lips fit together like they were made for each other, and when Max deepened the kiss Y/N saw stars. As they pulled away, she couldn't help but marvel at the enchantment of that stolen moment, leaving her heart fluttering with anticipation. She had never had a kiss like that before, there was so much passion and chemistry it left her feeling a little dumbfounded.  

The gala resumed its vibrant atmosphere as Y/N and Max returned, smiles adorning their faces. Unbeknownst to them, Mason's eyes were fixed on the faint smudge of red lipstick around Max's mouth. His attempt to remain calm was futile as a whirlwind of emotions swirled within him. 

Max and Y/N rejoined the table, the shared moment still lingering between them. Mason, increasingly agitated, couldn't shake the unsettling sight before him. The barely-there mark on Max's face became a glaring symbol of something he couldn't fully comprehend. 

Unable to contain the whirlwind of emotions, Mason downed the remainder of his whiskey in one gulp before abruptly standing up, his chair scraping against the floor. He mumbled something about needing a moment and hastily excused himself from the table. The others exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what had transpired. Y/N, sensing that something was wrong with her best friend, began to stand up, but Reece, ever perceptive, also rose from his seat. He looked at Y/N and asked, "Mind if I go see if he's okay? I think he might need a moment." 

Y/N nodded, still puzzled, and watched as Reece followed Mason out of the gala. The atmosphere at the table became tense, shrouded in uncertainty, as they all wondered what had just occurred. 

Reece stepped out into the cool night, his eyes scanning the surroundings until he spotted Mason pacing in a corner, his hands running through his hair in a display of frustration and turmoil. The sight was disconcerting, and Reece quickened his pace. 

As he approached, he noticed the raw emotion etched on Mason's face, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. It looked like he was about to burst into tears, and Reece could sense that something profound was troubling his friend. 

"You were right," Mason's voice cracked, his eyes desperately searching for some semblance of understanding. Reece furrowed his brows, concerned about the depth of Mason's distress. 

"I was right about what? What's going on, Mase?" Reece inquired; his voice laced with worry. 

Mason, unable to contain the storm of emotions within him, continued to pace, his fists clenched in frustration. "I can't watch him all over her, I can't. I fucking love her, mate, and I don't know what to do. I pushed her away; I pushed her into him. I was scared, and I panicked, and I've ruined everything." 

Reece felt a wave of shock wash over him. Mason's raw confession about his feelings for Y/N was unexpected, and it left him grappling with the weight of his friend's emotional turmoil. As much as Reece wanted to comfort his friend his frustration surged to the surface as he spoke, a mix of concern and disappointment evident in his voice. "Mase, I don't want to be harsh, but you've got to get your act together," he urged, his eyes piercing through the darkness. 

Mason, taken aback by Reece's directness, listened intently, unsure of what was about to unfold. 

"You treated Y/N so unfairly when you found out about how she felt. You pushed her away, and it broke her," Reece continued, his tone unwavering. "She loved you, and you found out, told her she ruined everything. She would never tell you this, but that broke her." 

Mason's expression shifted from surprise to a dawning realization of the impact of his actions. 

Reece, not mincing words, pressed on. "If she's found somebody that makes her happy, then if you're her friend, if you really care about her, then you will shut your mouth and not tell her any of this. It's not fair. I know you've known her longer than me, but anyone can see that she is the sweetest girl in the world. And no matter what or who comes along, she will always love you. She deserves to be happy, and if Max makes her happy, then let her be happy with him. Don't confuse her with your feelings, not now. Not after what you did." 

The weight of Reece's words hung in the air, and before Before Mason could respond to Reece's blunt but necessary words, Y/N and Max approached, their entwined hands a visual testament to the complexity of Mason's emotions. “Hey guys, I think we’re going to head off if tha-” she started before  

observing the tension etched across Mason's face, and immediately picking up on the strained atmosphere. Her concern seeped into her voice as she inquired, "What's going on, guys?" 

Mason hesitated, teetering on the edge of transparency. His gaze flitted between Y/N and Reece, contemplating whether to lay bare his inner turmoil. However, as he looked at Y/N standing beside Max, Reece's earlier counsel echoed in his mind. He realized that now wasn't the time to burden her with his feelings. 

A forced smile appeared on Mason's face as he replied, "Everything's perfectly fine." Y/N, unconvinced, began to ask again, but Mason, interrupting her, expressed gratitude, "Thank you both for coming. Max, your generous donation means a lot. It was lovely to see you again." 

Y/N's perceptive eyes searched Mason's face, detecting something amiss. However, Reece subtly signaled to let it go. With a parting goodbye, Y/N walked away with Max's arm around her waist. 

Mason watched them leave, the internal struggle vivid on his face. The desire to run after her and ask her to stay battled with the understanding that letting her find happiness, even if it wasn't with him, was the right thing to do. 

Max navigated the city streets, his fingers lightly tapping on the steering wheel as he drove Y/N back to her apartment. The car's interior cocooned them in a tranquil atmosphere, the hum of the engine blending with the soft music playing from the radio. As they merged into traffic, Max couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. "Mason seemed really bothered by something tonight," he remarked, glancing at Y/N. She nodded, her brow furrowed with concern. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but I'm really worried," she admitted. 

Reaching over, Max placed a reassuring hand on Y/N's thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure he'll figure things out. Sometimes, it just takes time," he offered, his gaze returning to the road. 

The rest of the drive continued in comfortable silence. Eventually, as the city lights painted a picturesque backdrop, Y/N broke the quiet with a nervous giggle. "I think I would like to come to Monaco with you at some point, if that's still up for grabs." 

A broad grin stretched across Max's face. "Of course, it is, I’d love that" he replied, his eyes briefly meeting hers. 

When they arrived at her apartment, Max, displaying a gentlemanly gesture, asked if he could walk her up to her door to ensure she got in safely. Y/N agreed, and they strolled together through the dimly lit corridor. Upon reaching her door, the ambiance shifted. Max leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a gentle kiss. Y/N’s hands reach up the back of his neck, her fingers lacing themselves in Max’s hair as their lips moved against each other. Their connection lingered for a moment before they pulled away, breaths slightly labored as Max rested his forehead against hers.  

“Do you want to come in?” 

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo @skepvids @aundercover @andydrysdalerogers @illicitverstappen @bbygrlllllll @kageyamama-hinatatata @imagandom @bibissparkles @sofifiia @dark-night-sky-99 @viennakarma @tyna-19 @wcnorris @storminacloud

[thevoidisback]

Let me be clear for ya'll out there real quick cuz ya'll need to know smh about me

will do

Asked questions

Rp so put /rp in your ask

QnA any time make sure to put *📝* in there

Smh funny to put a smile on you!

will NOT do

Nsfw 🔞

Proshipping bc that's just wrong

Not talk about my irl self do to insecurity so that will be a red flag

Don't force me to do things I don't like

I will delete your ask if I don't like it

I'll redesign your oc if you pay $10 on cash app so DM me for that because I ain't gonna do it for free!

Please do respect my opinions on what I tell you on my thoughts of your ask because if you don't like then leave

Don't ask for a face reveal it's uncomfortable...same for the age I don't feel comfortable with telling

Don't try any dumbass shit and I mean that literally

About Narrator!

She is literally my self prisona of me so of course she has adhd and autism and will probably procrastinate some times because that's how I am most likely....Womp womp I know it sounds lazy of me but bare with me here

I do love candy and chocolate! Personality I enjoy red velvet cupcakes because it's just chocolate dyed red lmao

I do some voice acting for Narrator w/ my irl friends and she honestly loves it because N.V aka Narrator void or just Narrator is actually a UK oc although in irl I was born in Louisiana then move to New Boston so Narrator has a British voice so remember that when she answers your questions

Narrator has control over Void and Silly void but she doesn't really bothers because she wants them to enjoy their void lives however they please

Do remember I have other oc's but I don't pay attention to them unless you ask who are they and I'll show you all of them!

Remember if you have any sad or just feeling down DM because I am a very caring person who will listen but if you want I can do my best to comfort you in any way

I do not have discord no more because I've done a lot of unresponsible things and got in trouble twice bc I let somebody "rp" with me and I fell for two different people and now I'm very uncomfortable that I let it happen without realizing it so I will never again plan to reinstall discord very sorry but not really

I'm very mature so I can handle g0r3, d3∆th, b1o0d, s3lf h∆rm, all that weird or crazy shit but I don't really support any of this type of act in irl so don't do it for content just go to a therapist about it now if it's nsfw or something else I can handle it but I still don't support actually doing it because there are kids on some social platforms plus the nsfw thing is just apart of humanity we can't control the internet so remember that

I dislike Gen Alpha kids it's just I personally think they are annoying af and hard to talk to without having to hear them say/text "skipitbi Gaytt rizz" type shit so you will be blocked immediately by me without no hesitation and if you don't understand why is because I'm a Gen Z girl because I was born in the 2000's when growing up so I'm some what brain rotten but not completely so remember that please and thank you!

I have a lot of different types of music I like listening to as in some: silly, random edit audio TikTok songs, Phonk songs, songs that just hit different, meme related songs, jazz/lofi because it helps me sleep at nights, Fnf songs- just a lot to keep up with

What fandoms I like?

I'll gladly tell ya!!

Fundamental paper education school

Poppy play time!

Lmk!

Pressure (roblox)

Doors (roblox)

Block tales (roblox)

Gacha life/ Gacha club

Sky children of the light

Cult of the lamb (just because of that damn black ram they are just too cute don't blame me!!)

Hellva boss and Hazbin hotel

Dandy's world (cuz I keep seeing this shit everywhere and yes I've seen the game play but I didn't play it myself so stfu!)

Phighting (yes I'm very much aware of this game on roblox and yes I gave it a try with my friend it was fun and I like it wish my computer didn't crash on it womp womp!)

Cookie run kingdom

Regretevator

Friday night funky

Five nights at Freddy

More coming soon if I fine fandoms I like any time soon

Who I am close with?

@unknownartistsmf

-> @out-of-nowhere231 <-

((she doesn't post much but I suggest you look her up...she doesn't have any asked questions also the same do and don't do apply to her as well))

@sam-the-tomboy

That's who I fully trust online sorry @babyevenfromgovacation but idk 'bout you nothing personal just don't fully trust you is all...

Thank you for reading all this! I had to rethink about everything but I do still love ya'll even though I don't know ya'll but stay cool!

Side note: I don't give a fuck how old you are just be honest with me and if your uncomfortable with it then I understand but still just let me know thank you!

This User loves Halloween!

I don't have TikTok because of the dark truth about it so sorry if ya followed me there and yes I do still have roblox but I suggest you just follow my user that way if I'm online you can join faster with me and my friends

Roblox user: Moaldr1278

[acciomjolnir]

Hey friends.

I'm out of steam.

Whatever energy I might have had for the HP fandom is gone. Between Baldur's Gate 3 eating my brain and Dragon Age: The Veilguard coming on Halloween, my OG fandoms are popping off. I can't muster up any writing mojo for anything Potterversey, and honestly, I've been having a very hard time continuing on in the Potterverse as a whole while JKR has been making international headlines oppressing trans people with her money in the UK and casting aspersions on successful Olympians because she's scared of brown people just as much as she's scared of trans people. The "I don't give her my money" angle doesn't really work when she has more money than God and uses it to perpetuate oppression and hate.

So I've hidden my WIPs, and I'm leaving my completed works locked to AO3 users only, and I'm going ahead and calling the game for now. AccioMjolnir is inherently tied to this universe. The jargon is in the handle. But I don't want my other fandom works attached to it.

Is this a retirement or just a hiatus? I can't tell you.

What I CAN tell you is that I have 500 little Dragon Age plot bunnies and another 500 Baldur's Gate plot bunnies, multiple playthroughs in each, and a barrelful of hype for what's about to drop on me.

(and none for Harry Potter, byeeeeee)

Anyway, I know I can't control what fandom does, but I can at least state my wishes for my works while I toddle back to Bag End and assume a new, non-wizarding ao3 handle for non-HP works. I'll start from scratch, sure. But I don't mind. It's kind of freeing.

Do not pick up where I left off on an unfinished work. Whether I come back to it in a week, a month, a year, or never, I do not give permission for continuations/completions. These are my stories. Write your own.

Do not involve my works in anything that involves exchanging money, and do not silo it off into walled gardens. Fandom should be free. My work is on AO3. There is no need for petty tyrants to hoard the epub in their facebook groups. There is no need for you to hold a hardbound copy in your hands. I wrote it because there was a story I wanted to read that I didn't see out there yet. And then I shared it because I thought maybe someone else would want to see it. That's really all.

Register for AO3. Get yourself a login if you don't have one. People out there have invites. Fanfiction authors do all of this for free. Hours of writing, editing, planning, shooting from the hip, writing half drunk or high, whatever we do, we're doing it in our own time for the joy of it. We're sharing our love of this fandom with you. Please, please drop us a thank you now and then. We give stories because we love them, and we love to share them.

Last but not least, love each other, be kind to each other. We're all humans at our computers, and most of us are trying our best. Ask yourself if it's really worth it to get into a beef with some other human at some other computer. Usually the answer is no.

See y'all in Faerûn. Or maybe in Thedas. And I'll still be around on Discord, so if you see me, say hello.

[tooneys-russo]

I Write Songs About You All The Time

Summary: Wren is the lead singer of a band who happens to serenade Alessia leading to a fun night between the two.

Warning: Smut 18+

Chapter 1

Wren was her family’s biggest disappointment, she was meant to go to Oxford University but refused to go. Instead she and her band, Highland Nightfall, worked hard on their music, they were selling out smaller venues after a year of hard work and their album rocketed to number 1 on the alternative charts. Wren was the lead singer and she also played guitar, it was a given that she was the most popular member of the band. Wren had long brown hair with blonde highlights, she had bright green eyes that had speckles of blue scattered and a large sleeve tattoo on her right arm that had intricate designs of geometric animals, plants and some text  scattered through. Girls at shows would throw bras on stage especially when Wren would wear their favourite outfit combination, backwards cap, tank top with an open short sleeve button up shirt, skinny jeans and converse. 

She had come back to the UK after a tour in the US, her first show was in Manchester to a sold out crowd of 10,000. “Good evening everyone. We are Highland Nightfall, it’s so lovely to be back in England we have missed home so much. We thought we’d play a few songs for you if that would be alright?” The crowd screamed loud as the first song started. In the crowd were some of the Manchester United women’s players who  had taken the night to go enjoy one of the best British acts going around. Alessia was particularly interested more in the lead singer rather than the music itself. She had studied Wren’s setlist making sure she knew the words, during the show the players videoed each other singing along. 

Wren could hear the crowd singing back to her, she glanced up and saw a gorgeous group of girls all singing along to her song. She smirked as she continued singing, in a small break Wren spoke to her stage manager about getting the blonde from the upper seating to come down so she could sing to her. Her stage manager Claire immediately headed towards the United group who were clearly having an amazing time. Alessia followed Claire down to the stage nervously, when Claire requested her to come down to the stage she was shocked but couldn’t resist. A chair was placed in the middle of the stage and Wren walked over to the side where Alessia was standing. “Hi, nice to meet you my name is Wren.” She held out the game and the blonde shook it. “Hi I am Alessia.” Wren smirked. “I know. You play for United I’m not the smartest person in the world but I know football.” Alessia blushed at the girl’s words. “So I brought you down because it seemed you knew the words to my songs, which is exactly what I need for my next little bit. I am going to have you sit in the chair and I will sing to you. Two taps on the side of my thigh if it is too much or you want to stop, you are in control okay?” Alessia just nodded. “Alrighty beautiful lets get this going.” Wren grabbed Alessia’s hand and led her out to the stage. 

“A lot of you know this next part of my show. Those edits on TikTok are phenomenal. I have with me the gorgeous Alessia Russo, if you have been living under a rock she is a striker for Manchester United.” The crowd roared at the mention of the player and the football team. “Yeah, yeah bloody Manchester United, got nothing on the mighty Arsenal.” The crowd booed and she gave them the finger with a smirk. Wren sat Alessia down and winked at her. “Now Alessia, you and I are going to have a little fun, clothes on princess don’t worry.” 

The music started and Wren stood behind Alessia, sliding her hand down the blonde’s arm as she sang in her ear. “Well, come and get it now. Come and get it now” She walked to the front of Alessia and bent over, her hand on her leg holding her up keeping eye contact with the girl. Alessia could feel her heart racing, knowing exactly where this song was leading. 

“Baby, show me what you're doing. Come and turn around.” Wren spread Alessia’s jean clad legs and dropped to her knees right in front of her. 

'Cause it's not just a figure of speech. You got me down on my knees. It's getting harder to breathe out.” Alessia’s breath caught in her throat looking at the green eyes now between her legs. She couldn’t glance up at the United girls but she knew that there would be many videos of this moment and them laughing about the situation she had found herself in. 

'Cause it's not just a figure of speech. You got me down on my knees. It's getting harder to breathe out.” Wren slid her hand up Alessia’s thigh, feeding off the girl’s reaction to her touch. Alessia held back a moan as Wren stood up and straddled the striker’s lap, her hands immediately placing themselves on the singer’s thighs. 

“We only met each other just the other day. But you already got me feeling some type of way. Now, if I could figure it out. I'd take you back to my house. So we could meddle about.” Wren smirked at Alessia who bit her lip holding Wren onto her lap. 

“We could meddle about. Whoa-oh-oh-oh. We could meddle about. No, whoa-oh-oh-oh-ooh. We could meddle about. Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh. We could meddle about.” Wren knew that there were other people around but at that moment it felt as though it was just them alone on the stage. Slowly Wren tested the waters with a slow and gentle grind on Alessia’s lap, the striker’s mouth fell open as she moved her hands to Wren’s ass. 

“Girl, just scream it out. Tell me what you're thinking. No, I wanna see you undress now. I wanna hear you confess now, oh-oh, oh, whoa.” Wren leant in so only the microphone was keeping their lips from connecting. Wren swallowed as she stared at Alessia in front of her, staring at her lips wanting so badly to know how they taste. Wren missed her next line, hearing the crowd singing the words. “You are distracting me gorgeous.” Wren said into Alessia’s ear as she turned around so her back was on Alessia’s chest. 

“We only met each other just the other day. But you already got me feeling some type of way. Now, if I could figure it out. I'd take you back to my house. So we could meddle about.” Wren grabbed Alessia’s hand and moved it from her chest, down her breast, further down her stomach to her inner thigh. Alessia gripped onto Wren’s thigh and moaned into her ear as the singer leant back further against Alessia so her chin could rest on the brunette’s shoulder. 

It was easily Wren’s favourite performance for more than one reason. Wren made sure to stay pressed against Alessia for the whole song, once she finished and the band was playing the outro she turned to the girl and smirked. “That was hot. Guess that is why they call you guys the red devils.” Wren grabbed Alessia’s hand and led her to the front of the stage. “A massive thank you to Alessia Russo for putting up with me for that song. Tag me in those TikTok edits too, wouldn’t mind reliving that one.” Wren kissed Alessia’s hand as the crowd screamed, she led the blonde off the stage.

“Thank you for that.” Alessia said with a blush painting her cheeks. “No, thank you. That was better than sex.” Wren kept a hold of Alessia’s hand and ran her thumb over her knuckle. “Come to The Ivy after, I will be there with the band and I want to have a little dance with you.” Alessia could only nod watching Wren’s green eyes. Wren took her chance to kiss Alessia’s cheek as Claire came over. “Wren can you please get back on stage, Alessia I will take you back up to the girls.” Wren groaned and nodded. “Fine. See you later gorgeous, this isn’t over yet.” 

Wren rushed off the stage at the end of the show to shower and get ready for The Ivy, and maybe to see a particular blonde who she had unfinished business with. She put on blue skinny jeans, white high top converse, and a black short sleeve button up. Once she entered the club she asked the hostess where the Manchester players were and was shown to a booth where she immediately saw a blonde in black skinny jeans and a white crop top. Wren went up behind the blond and slid her arm around her waist. “Long time no see.” Alessia turned when she heard the voice and smirked. “About time you showed up.” Alessia had already downed two drinks to give herself some liquid courage for when she saw Wren. 

Wren wasted no time in catching up to the level of buzz that Alessia had and pulled her onto the dancefloor. There were people all around them pressing them closer to each other, Wren gripped Alessia’s hips making them move in sync. Alessia wrapped her arms around Wren’s neck. “My god you are so hot.” Alessia said in her ear, making the singer smirk. “Have you ever looked at yourself?” Wren slid her hands lower onto Alessia’s ass making the girl moan. 

They were both beginning to sweat as they danced, grinding against each other unable to stop themselves needing more contact from the other. Wren gave in and pressed her lips against the blonde’s. There was nothing gentle about the kiss, it was desperate and wanting. Their tongues ran along the other, Alessia’s hands gripping onto Wren’s shirt. “Come back to my place?” Wren moaned into Alessia’s mouth and the girl just nodded. Wren grabbed her hand and led her out the back of the club not bothering to tell each of their groups that they were leaving. 

Their make out session continued in the side alley of the club where Alessia was pushed up against the wall, one leg wrapped around Wren and the singer pressing her body against the blonde. Their Uber was a few minutes away which was perfect for Wren to get more of Alessia. The blonde kissed down Wren’s neck and sucked a dark hickey onto her neck. “Fuck Alessia.” Wren gripped onto Alessia tighter, now hungrier for the girl in front of her, she felt her phone buzz as their Uber pulled up. The whole drive to the hotel Wren kissed Alesia a little calmer than what it had been, trying not to piss off the Uber driver with their fun. 

They were clumsy all the way up to Wren’s room, using every hard surface as an opportunity to press one another up against. Wren took off her shirt and shoes easily not letting her lips part from Alessia’s once they got into her room. Alessia’s shirt was removed with ease even if Wren hated having to pull from the blonde. She pushed Alessia onto the bed with a smirk and took her spot on top of her, undoing the striker’s jeans and pulling them down to reveal a pink g-string. “You expecting me or something princess?” Wren smirked and Alessia shoved her gently. “They are just comfy.” Wren took off her jeans to expose her Scooby Doo briefs and Alessia put her hand on the girl above her’s chest. “Um were you expecting me?” Wren looked down and groaned. “Fuck.” Alessia laughed and pulled her back on top of her. “Cute as.” Wren rolled her eyes and kissed the girl again. 

Their bras were the next casualties of their encounter, they were thrown somewhere in the hotel room as Wren began exploring the Italian English girl under her. Her lips kissed down her collarbones, down the valley of her breasts then across to her right nipple where she wrapped her lips around the bud. Alessia let out a loud moan and tangled her fingers into Wren’s hair, the singer slid her hand up Alessia’s inner thighs to gently rub her covered clit. Wren bit down gently and Alessia gasped and clenched her legs together. “Naughty girl.” Wren looked up at Alessia. She pulled Alessia’s g-string off and threw it across the rom, teasing the girl with her tongue along her wet pussy. “Wren please.” Alesssia begged. “Only because you asked so nicely.” Wren finally gave Alessia what she wanted, she ran her tongue along Alessia’s clit. The blonde girl threw back her head and pushed Wren further into her. Wren gently slid a finger inside Alessia, “Oh oh my god Wren!” Alessia stuttered. Wren moved her finger slowly, curling it to rub along the spot Alessia wanted it the most. Wren kept a steady pace, licking her clit and fingering her in time. Alessia could feel herself getting closer, she pushed against Wren’s mouth and fingers trying to reach her orgasm quicker, desperate for the release. Wren could feel Alessia getting wetter and grinding against her face and finger. She picked up the pace of her fingers and her tongue, Alessia couldn’t hold it in anymore, she screamed out as she came against the singer’s tongue and fingers. Wren slowed down her movements as Alessia came down from her high. 

Before she could work out what was happening Wren was on her back and Alessia was straddling her hips. “Now I get to have my turn.” Alessia kissed Wren, tasting herself on the singer’s lips. Alessia pulled at Wren’s briefs and threw them off the bed to land somewhere near her discarded g-string. Alessia began grinding against Wren as she reached back to rub the brunette’s clit slowly. Wren gripped onto Alessia’s ass watching her movements on top of her, she had never seen such an incredibly gorgeous girl before. Alessia’s finger slipped inside Wren making the girl moan loud, she spread her legs wider giving Alessia more access. Her fingers sped up as Wren gripped onto Alessia’s breasts, she moved against Alessia’s fingers quickly. Wren moaned out Alessia’s name, it was the greatest thing Alessia had ever heard in her life. Wren didn’t last long once Alessia curled her fingers and arched her back giving her the perfect view of the striker. “Alessia fuck!” Wren moaned out loud as her orgasm came in waves over her body. She wrapped her arms around Alessia and pulled her down into a bruising kiss, the blonde giggled against her mouth as they kissed. The two laid in each other’s arms, Wren rubbed along Alessia’s back tracing shapes with her fingers. 

“You are something else. I would not have expected that from someone as sweet as you.” Wren said and kissed Alessia’s head. “Guess that is what happens when a really gorgeous girl serenades me.” Alessia kissed Wren gently and cuddled more into her. “Goodnight Wren, thank you for tonight.” She said softly. “Goodnight Alessia, sweet dreams.” The two fell asleep cuddled up in each other’s arms. 

Chapter 2

[nilboxes]

You're so right for toxic fubu aven, I wish people would stop equating him as someone who has no choice or control over what happens when in most scenes he's the one with the high ground and authority over the situation.

How do you think Ratio and Aven in his toxic fubu era would interact ?

Sometimes I feel like I'm putting the dial up to 11 a little too much, because Aventurine has always been a sweetheart on the outside, and toxic fubu is a little "one-facet" read on him but like, I just really am tired of him being characterized as a baby damsel uwu uke when he's actually a dudebro deep down. People are free to characterize how they like but like, I am also free to call it out as an interpretation that has gone a little too out there and it's not in the "spirit" of the character anymore.

Anyway

My friend on twitter succinctly puts it— "Aventurine is always where he wants to be, whether or not he is happy about it is another question entirely" and I have been thinking long and hard about this, to ne he is "where he is most advantageous in position" such as being a Stoneheart in the IPC but whether or not he is happy to be there is irrelevant, he is where he would be able to do what he wants with the most effectivity etc etc. His cornerstone is literally "Stratagems" which is also turning a bad situation into a good one.

So regarding uhh how Aventurine would be with Ratio during this era— I don't touch upon this in fics because I am waiting for Diamond appearance, but my personal headcanon is that Diamond periodically sends moles as potential partners to Aventurine as a way to fuck with him and potentially gain more influence/control over him. I kinda want to explain his fuck boy-ness through this, he knows he's being lead on, he is being baited, and he's playing the game and using the people sent to him in turn.

If Ratio met him during this time, I do believe Aventurine would still like, fall in love with him at first sight (let's say the Final Victor LC and my fic shenanigans where I imply Aventurine influenced bringing Ratio over to the IPC/IG was a thing) he'd be so smitten... he'd realize he doesn't want any other partner except Ratio, he doesn't even get off properly anymore (he's still the best at fucking though) and all his thoughts is consumed by how he's going to have Dr Veritas Ratio in his bed and his life.

He would really start a courtship with Ratio, he would like, get advise from various anonymous places to figure out how to woo the Doctor. He'd engineer a way to meet him and have introductions made. Give flowers, write letters (commissioned ones but he'd also add personal touches) and basically do all that until Dr Ratio agrees to go out to coffee with him (Not even dinner ToT coz Ratio is so hard to get to know) and they'll build from there, all the while Aven wouldn't be doing the casual sex anymore (much to Sugilite's sadness :()

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Hey there, did you happen to hear the news? Apparently a UK artist/musician Bentley jones was working on a cover of live and learn for Sonic Movie 3. What sucks was that Bentley according to his Twitter, was abused while working on the movie. What makes it even more shocking was that people were upset that the song wouldn’t be in the movie rather than an artist getting abused. What even more shocking is that he implies a lot of people involved in sonic were not very nice people. I really wish to hear the full story to get more insight. I also dislike people getting upset about the song when it’s really likely it’ll be a different cover of the song rather than the one that was cut. But yeah I’m very upset about this news, and I’m not even sure if I want to watch the movie anymore due to this. What I hope happens is that Bentley details the full story and that the people that treated him badly get comeuppance. What are your thoughts on the matter?

Hi Honey!❤️✨

I’m terribly sorry, but I’m a little bit lost here. I’ve heard Mr. Jones’ take on “Live and Learn.” It’s really good, but there were no indications that his version of the song would be in the film. Only an assumption. Bentley Jones used hashtags to promote the song. Please understand that “Live and Learn” will 100% be in the film, I promise! It’s been confirmed since February that it would be in the film. The version that will be in the film is Crush 40’s take, the owners/creators of the song. The remix/cover that Mr. Jones did was more than likely for a Sonic game.

I haven’t seen a tweet by Bentley saying that he had connections to SCU. His thread talks about his experiences with the SEGA company and Sonic fans. Nothing about the movie was mentioned.

Anyways.

I believe him when he says that there can be good and bad people that you work with in this industry. I do. I firmly believe that. This is a very common issue to experience in this field, but it does NOT mean that it’s okay. It’s never okay to be an asshole to someone. And if an environment is toxic enough, it can (and will) be harmful to one’s mental and emotional health. No one should be disrespected or treated unfairly by industry professionals for sharing their musical talents with the world. Bentley Jones deserves to be treated a human being. Hell, everyone deserves to be treated equally and with dignity regardless of who and where they work at.

I also believe him when he says that some fans within the community are jerks. I am very aware of this vulgar activity. I’m old enough to remember the harsh criticism that Bentley Jones faced in the fandom years ago. It still goes on today. That’s why I’ve always made it a point in saying that this is a safe space—I want you to feel safe here and not have to worry about being harassed by other fans. I can’t control what goes on outside of my blog. I can only control what happens here.

Bentley Jones is a great musician. From what I’ve seen in tweets these past months, I greatly admire the growth that he’s achieved so far in his healing journey. I’m proud of him for coming back to doing music and doing fan-covers of songs. His newest album, “Memoriam,” will feature his take on “Live and Learn” for free with each purchase. If he is ready to come back to the fandom to make music again, let’s do our best to be supportive and with opened arms.

[elipheleh]

mary & george feature in tv & satellite magazine. airs in the uk on tuesday (5th) at 9pm on sky atlantic & sky showcase. boxset will be available on sky boxsets/NOW.

text under the cut

Hollywood star Julianne Moore adopts her best English accent this week when she plays Mary Villiers, a mother-of-four determined to secure her family's future, in Sky's seven-part drama Mary & George.

When she learns that King James (Tony Curran) is in a sexual relationship with his adviser, the Earl of Somerset (Laurie Davidson), Mary realises she could gain considerable power and influence if her son George (Nicholas Galitzine) becomes the King's new favourite.

'Mary is from a kind of middling aristocratic family,’ explains Moore, 'She's living in less-than-ideal circumstances, looking for a way to educate her children and keep herself alive. The only way she's really able to do that is through her relationships with powerful men.’

After sending George to France to learn refinement, Mary endeavours to get him noticed - and King James is soon enamoured with the handsome young man.

'At the beginning, the relationship is very transactional for George’, explains Galitzine, 29. 'I don't think he develops feelings for James until a few months, perhaps years, into the relationship. George definitely has something to gain, but the love is very much real between them.'

Although the King is aware of the power games being played around him, he finds it refreshing that George comes from outside the usual circles of the royal court.

‘James is comfortable when hes in the company of his lovers - he wants to forget about being a king,’ says Curran, 54. ‘He wants that distraction of feeling safe with another person, as opposed to lords and politicians constantly grabbing at him, wanting him to make decisions about affairs of state.’

OUTRAGEOUS TRUESTORY

The series is based on the nonfiction book The King's Assassin by Benjamin Woolley, and Moore was drawn to the project by the way Mary seemed ahead of her time.

‘There was something outrageous and direct about her’, says Moore, who won a Best Actress Oscar in 2015 for her role as an early onset Alzheimer's patient in Still Alice. 'She seemed to have her own desire for power and agency in a situation where she might possibly have none. It's interesting what she achieved at a time when women couldn't even own property.’

The cast also includes Trine Dyrholm as Queen Anne of Denmark, Niamh Algar as Mary's confidante, prostitute Sandie, and Nicola Walker as the Queen's lady-in-waiting Lady Hatton.

Mary & George's salty language and revealing sex scenes may surprise some viewers, but the stars believe it reflects the earthy instincts of its characters as they grapple for power.

"The sensuality in the show isn't crass in any way, says Curran. 'It was certainly interesting for me. I'd ask the producers, "What am I wearing today?" and theyd reply, “Your birthday suit, pal!"’

'It's not a typical period drama because of the licence it takes with behaviours and sexuality,’ agrees Moore. 'It's beautiful and opulent and a wildly entertaining romp through history.’

Who’s Who (top right of image)

Mary Villiers

Julianne Moore

The deeply ambitious mother lives on her wits and wants to create a lasting legacy for her family.

George Villiers

Nicholas Galitzine

Mary's second son gains new-found confidence and charm after an educational visit to France.

King James

Tony Curran

The first joint ruler of Scotland and England, the King is seldom seen without an entourage of male companions.

Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset

Laurie Davidson

The King's current favourite is determined to stop George from usurping him.

Queen Anne of Denmark

Trine Dynolm

The Queen would prefer her husband's favourite to be someone she can control.

Sandie

Niamh Algar

Mary's confidante is a prostitute in a high-end brothel, making her privy to the secrets of the rich and powerful.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

All Along the Watchtower (Chapter 12)

[Can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 4.6 K

Warnings: Minors DNI - threats, mentions of violence, swearing, morally gray decision making, smoking

Summary: Rory and Price get their chance to interrogate Zorokov

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis

October 21, 2017 07:36 - Safehouse

The awkward tension between them was thick. Murky and deep. A confused jumble of emotions that neither had made a concerted effort of facing. Rory decided to fall back on her old trick of sweeping it all under the rug, ignoring the uncomfortable gnawing inside by turning her attention to her mission. Focusing on what she could control, burying herself neck deep in what she had power over rather than feeling like she was stuck in a current leading her astray. While Price, on the other hand, seemed to remain set on the idea of keeping her under his protection. Unwavering and absolute as he was with all decisions he made. He knew what was best, even if she wasn’t willing to recognize that for herself – yet . The elephant in the room had only doubled in size, each having spilled their guts as best they could at the other's feet. Painfully aware of where they each stood on the issue. A brief hiatus put on the debate as they tried to go about their day as normal, despite being trapped in a hotel room together. 

While the sound of shower water battered the stall in the bathroom, Rory did her best to maintain professional distance in the bedroom. Cleaning her weapon while sitting on her double bed, meticulous as she slid each section of the gun apart and swabbed and wiped it down. The cigarette dangled from the corner of her lip, smoke trailing along the side of her face as a section of dark hair hung in front of her eyes, her gun oil stained fingertips drifting through the strands to brush it back behind her ear. Tapping her cigarette into the ashtray sat beside her on the bed, her fingers shook, the hand they belonged to absentmindedly drifting to her neck, rubbing at the tender bruising that circled it – covering them with makeup, burying them below the collar of her sweater – she did everything possible not to look at the discolored patches of skin where the blood had bloomed under the surface. 

It was all still too raw, too real. 

Her thoughts went to dark places as the constant stream of shower water helped provide the white noise to slip into a state of near hypnosis. She knew she was still in the safehouse even as the burning sensation of cold marble crept over her back, the smell of leather furniture filling her nostrils and then the bleach…Her nails dug at her chest, feeling her breath catch in her throat. She had always wondered how long she could hold her breath for – it was certainly never one of her strengths before, especially not as a smoker – but she supposed she had received her answer: Two minutes . Two excruciating, long minutes. 

Deep in her work and in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed her mobile had begun vibrating on the nightstand, having returned to dragging the wiry cleaning brush through the barrel of her pistol, pulling it back and forth, scraping out the old flakes of debris that had accumulated. She wasn’t aware the shower water had stopped either. Deaf to the world around her, numb to it, as if it had become entirely dull and grayed out just like it had been that morning. Lackluster, just like she felt. 

The loud buzzing of her phone finally grabbed her attention as her eyes rose to meet the bathroom door opening. Price entered the room with just a towel wrapped around his waist, hair lying flat and damp, the freckles and body hair of his torso on show as his hard muscle flexed under the soft flesh that covered it, feet padding in full strides across the carpet. She still hadn’t entirely left the confines of her head even as their gaze locked, his piercing stare narrowing beneath his furrowed brow the longer he looked at her. Saying nothing, he glanced over at her phone on the table, and then back at her. His jaw flexed, a little tic slipping through the cracks of the stoic soldier’s wall. There was no heat to the look he gave her, more a survey of her reactions, realizing something wasn’t adding up. 

Rory quickly gave him a sheepish grin, pretending she was perfectly alright despite knowing he had already read her like a book. Putting her tools down and grabbing her cigarette, she placed it back to her lips. No longer stuck in the act of repetition, broken free of the cycle, the spiral pulled taut once more. Reaching behind her and collecting the still ringing phone from the table, the call display informed her it was Andrew. She placed the phone on the bed and returned to cleaning her gun. “Andy, you’re on speaker.”

“Oh, thank Christ. It’s a miracle hearing your voice, Sinclair. Do you know how bloody worried I've been?”

She rubbed at her brow, her finger gently trailing over the scabbed over gash that cut through it. “Enough to not call until now?”

Price gave a low chuckle on the other side of the room, a smirk pulling at his lips as he cinched the waist of his pants together to button it. She gave him a sideways look, taking a drag from her cigarette and a brief moment to appreciate the captain’s form. He shook his head, rubbing the towel through his hair to dry it, leaving his short hair haphazard before he’d return the beanie to its place on top of his head.

“Oi, be nice. I come bearing news.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” Smoke streamed past her lips as she spoke, starting to slot her gun back together. 

The smile in Andrew’s voice faded as he continued, "Thought  you should know, Zorokov’s lucid. Have him under guard detail at HSCT Centre hospital. I know it's no interrogation room, but if you want to get your answers, now’s the time to do it.”

Heart rate increasing, a cold sweat made Rory’s hands instantly clammy. She knew she would have to face him down eventually, look him in those cold, dark eyes once again, but there was no denying it was likely too soon. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to steel herself as she took another long drag of her cigarette.

“What room?” Price’s low, gravelly voice near her ear caused her to open her eyes and find his hand coming to press to the back of her neck, squeezing it softly. She wasn’t alone. He wasn’t going to leave her alone. 

-----

October 21, 2017 – HSCT Centre Hospital, Moscow

“I thought Laswell didn't want us starting a war?” Rory muttered as the heavy metal lift doors opened and she followed Price through the halls of the hospital, carrying their weapon for the negotiation – the laptop – under her arm. Boots thumped against the waxed linoleum floors as she kept pace with the Captain throughout the medical facility, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat as they passed by nurses and doctors, trying to appear as though they were merely any other set of visitors. 

“We won't,” he spoke in a hoarse whisper, his gaze kept forward. Focused . “Leave it to me.”

“John -”

The rasping sigh he tried to let slip past did not go undetected and when he finally bothered to look at her, she could see the quick little curl of his top lip into a sneer. “Your mate got us the in. No point lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth, yeah?”

She pushed her fists deeper into the pockets of her coat, twisting the bits of fluff in between her fingertips, kneading them into miniature stress balls. “So we march in there and do what exactly? Are we actually questioning him, getting answers that we need , or is this just an excuse for you to make him suffer like you wanted to last night?”

“Gonna give ‘im a reason to talk.”

“And what's that supposed to mean, eh?”

With John Price that could be left entirely open to interpretation. From what she had gleaned in their conversations and the things he had done already, he had a moral code, but it was a loose one. One that bent and bowed with whatever came his way, whatever got him to the endgame the fastest with the least amount of resistance. He had been a soldier for longer than her, moved further up through the ranks, had more lives under his command, leading them deeper into the machine that ground up and spat most of them back out just as broken as she was, if not more so. He was drenched in the military’s wanton use of ‘the ends justifying the means'. There was no telling where the cut off was for what he was willing to do, how far he would go.  She knew that. She also knew it wasn’t a way of life most could thrive in, but he had, allowing himself to be morphed by it. It made him dangerous; it made him a threat – it made her happy he was an ally and not someone to face down herself. 

Turning to look at her once more, his slight smirk spread over his features. “It means Laswell’s helping us hit ’im where it hurts.”

Lifting her brow, she realized what he was implying. “We’re going for the jugular?”

He gave her a curt nod and continued forward. “He’s a sittin’ duck and we aren’t wastin’ this opportunity. Not when he's right there. Not after what he did. He’s going nowhere.” He paused and glanced over at her once more. “I told you, you gave us our in.”

Even if she had to bite his face off to do it. 

“Right. Well then…” she shrugged her shoulders and softly sighed. “Let's get this show on the road, eh?”

“Sure you’ll be alright goin’ in there?” The scowl reappeared on his face. Giving her the out once again. He seemed to want to give her every excuse available to turn tail and run or hide.  “I can do it on my own.”

Grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks, her fingers delved into the thick material of his coat, eyes boring into him, reminding him just how deadly serious she was. “I want to see what I did to him… I need to see the state I left him in.”

Tipping his head to the side, he looked at her with a cocked brow. “You’re a tough little bird, aren’t you, my girl?”

Rolling her eyes, she let go of his arm. “Christ almighty, would you stop calling me that.”

“What?”

“ Your girl.”

Price smirked as she started walking away quickly with her agitation. “Wouldn’t bother you so much if you didn’t at least partially agree with it, darlin’.”

Rory scoffed and looked over her shoulder back at him. “I swear to god, you just might be one of the most arrogant bastards I’ve ever met.” 

His lips downturned as she said it, tilting his head from side to side, cocking his brow, seemingly debating this fact in his head. 

“Oh, piss off.” She couldn’t help but laugh now, her footsteps slowing as she turned around to face him. “You don’t get to act like this is the first time you’ve ever heard that.”

“What if it is?” His eyes twinkled with just a hint of mischief as he looked at her. Bright and blue under the harsh fluorescent lights and darkened by his brow. 

Taking a short step forward, she gazed up at him, neck craning. “Shame on everyone else who was too scared to say it then.”

Chuckling quietly, his eyes narrowed at her. “You know why, right?”

What would be a motion that would normally put most on edge, an intimidation technique she had seen Price use several times already – his patented death glare – had little effect on her. “Because you’re the big, scary SAS captain that strikes the fear of God into people. I’m well aware, John,” she said, lifting her eyes to the ceiling.

He closed the distance between them, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned forward. “And yet here you are calling me out on it, no fear at all.”

What reason did she have to be scared? Sure he was abrasive, stern, ready to tear someone a new arsehole when needed – but he was still just a man. Willing to make the hard decisions others couldn’t at a moment’s notice, but a man, nonetheless. A man who had already clearly made his intentions known about wanting to keep her safe. Surely she could talk back a little, get a rise out of the highly decorated captain, a man well respected for his accomplishments, carrying the weight of the world and the immensity of his actions on his shoulders. In her eyes, he was more than what the military expected of him even if that was all he wanted to regard himself as. He wasn’t just the ruthless soldier he insisted on portraying. He might have been dangerous, but she had already won him over. 

“Because I still remember you as the clean-shaven Lieutenant.”

Looking down at her through his brow, his head lowered towards her. “Haven’t been him in a long time, darlin’,” he rasped.

“Did he get left behind in the stall of that loo with me?” Rory teased, her smile shifting into an incredibly self-assured smirk.

Price sighed, a little growl slipping from him with frustration.

Patting his forearm, the grin faded from her face and she returned to her professional form, readjusting the laptop under her arm. “Let’s get back to the mission, shall we?” 

------

Reaching the door to the room Zorokov was being kept in to recuperate, they were met by the guard detail organized by MI6 – definitely not police with the way they were dressed, and the assault rifles they carried, afforded the privilege of appearing frightening as hell. With the quick nod of heads, the door was opened, and Price and Rory were granted access to the room where their slumbering target awaited them.  

With the lights dimmed in the room, they moved forward, not caring one way or the other if they woke him up in the process. The thin, pale blue curtain that circled the hospital bed rustled slightly, a breeze shifting the material as the two soldiers passed by it, their shadows sweeping across with what little light there was. Price was quick to grab the two edges of the material in his fists and toss the sections open, damn near tearing the curtains right off the rings that held them. As they parted, splitting open with force, the soldiers came face to face with the Russian, now cuffed to the hospital bed, his lip sewn back together with thick black sutures, face bruised and swollen, mouth stuffed with cotton, hooked up to an IV drip for pain management. 

Rory bit down on the inside of her cheek, she hated just how lightly he seemed to come out of their struggle. Grimacing at the cold hard truth that a marred face was nothing that money couldn’t fix with plastic surgeries. Free from pain, able to sleep as though nothing at all had happened. She wished she’d left more of an indelible mark against him. Taken an eye, cut out his tongue, something to truly remember her by. 

Price couldn’t help the lopsided grin that twisted cruelly at his mouth, his hands pressed to either side of Zorokov’s feet at the end of the bed, hunching over like a guard dog ready to attack, head lowered to stare at the man in a predatory fashion. “Well, take a look at you, sunshine.” The vehement, venomous hate he held for the oligarch – for what he had done – burned behind his eyes as he maintained the cool, calm, collected demeanor of the military captain. 

Heavy eyes surrounded in puce fluttered open and locked on the mutton chopped man, widening at the sight of Rory standing in the corner, showing no sign of cowering in fear of the man who had attacked her only hours ago and in much better shape than he was. 

Stare darkening further, Price barked a command in the husky tone of a man who was used to shouting out orders on a battlefield, “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Zorokov flinched, shifting carefully in his bed. His normally well-coiffed blonde hair left greasy and unkempt. There was no fancy suit to protect him now, no air of dignity or power. He was left strung up like bait for the wolves at the door, and they were prowling. He did as he was told, his attention maintained on the brusque man at the foot of his bed. 

“You know why we’re here. So let’s not play any games, yeah?”

“What are you going to do, Captain Price ?” He emphasized the name in an attempt to regain some power, reminding the two soldiers that this wasn’t one sided, he knew them as well. “Threaten my life?” He nodded his head in Rory’s direction. “Sic your wild dog on me?”

The cold, threatening tone of the captain barely covered the growl that threatened to slip from him. “Oh, I think she had every right to do what she did to you.”

“She ripped off my fucking lip,” the Russian yelled as he shot forward, manic with fury. The IV stand nearly tipping over with the flailing movement of his arm.

“And you tried to kill her!” Price thrusted his pointed finger at Zorokov before moving around the hospital bed with a snarl, grabbing the IV tubing that connected to the Russian’s arm and tore it from the bag. “You deserved everythin’ you got and more.”

“Captain –” 

Her calm voice cut through the chaos. His hand tensed into a fist at his side. The constant stream of liquid dripping onto the floor causing everyone’s teeth in the room to grind. 

“Sir, isn’t there someone else who’s meant to be part of this conversation?”

He shifted his jaw just enough to expose his annoyance, and then flexed his shoulders, letting the broad stretch of them sit tight. Anger flared in his eyes as he tried to remain controlled, staring down at the man who he had wanted to tear asunder. 

“Price…” Rory held out the laptop towards him, trying to reel him back in. 

Glancing over his shoulder with a swallowed sigh, his nose scrunching along with a grimace as if he was swallowing back bile, he took the computer from her and continued his interrogation of the Russian. “Went to a lot of trouble to get this. Did a lot of diggin’ in your dirt. All the shit you’ve been buryin’, tryin’ to hide. But we’ve had our eyes on you for a while. Now it’s all paid off,” Price muttered, seething just being in the company of the Russian. 

“You can’t do anything to me. I’m protected.”

“You might have a lot of powerful friends. So do I. And they’ve all been looking for ways to gut you like a bloody fish.”

“Do what you will, Captain.” The Russian exuded smugness as he leaned back against his pillows, adjusting them as he settled. “I won’t see prison. I won’t be punished. There are too many hands involved and none of them want to get dirty.”

“But you’re happy to, aren’t you?” Price leaned in, gripping the side rail of the hospital bed with white knuckles.

“I’m merely a middleman. Connecting people to things they need. I’m not the villain here.”

“Oh, I think you are.” Price’s eyes narrowed, the crow’s feet by his eyes crinkling without any of the mirth that came with one of his trademark smirks. “You’re certainly not above violence, eh?”

“She seems just fine to me.” Zorokov hummed, his dark eyes landing on Rory, taking in the cuts on her face he’d left behind.

“What did I say?” Price rasped, his tone a clear threat as he gritted his teeth.

His glare returned to the captain. “So what? You have info on my business ventures? Means nothing. They’re all owned by shell companies. Nothing’ll lead back. Do you think I’m new to this?”

Price clenched his jaw once more, the tendons ready to break with the force his molars clamped down on each other, held tight like a steel trap. Opening the laptop, files and logs had been opened, unencrypted, he tossed it onto Zorokov’s lap. “CIA’s been lookin’ into your exploits. Have a whole list o’ your friends. We know exactly how you filter your dirty money. So…” His head tilted the way a canines would before it bared its teeth. “Wanna tell me how a trafficker hops into bed with terrorists?”

The Russian remained entirely self-satisfied, hardly put off by the threat he was currently under being delivered by the two soldiers. “Exploiting the market. These are countries that don’t have GDP – just war. They want freedom, their peace? Need to pay for it somehow,” he said with a shrug.

Rory’s lip curled at just the thought. The lack of humanity in taking advantage of a situation like that. Seeing human lives as a commodity. Her rage steadily boiled inside her, the blood rushing in her ears. Trying so hard to swallow it and keep her resolve. “Christ, you have no conscience at all, do you?”

A low chuckle filled the room, and her blood ran cold at the sound. “Business isn’t about conscience. It's about profit.”

Her hand curled into a fist, her nails carving crescents into the palm of her hand. “So, money’s all that matters to you then?” The anger had all faded from her voice, there was a cold defiance to it instead. Resolute in her next actions. “You must have Swiss bank accounts just spilling with rubles. Shell corporations won’t do so well without an influx of funds. A plug in the system would certainly make things difficult for you and your ilk, wouldn’t it?”

“Something like that would take you months… years to make happen.”

“Unless it's already been in the works.” Price’s smirk grew as he stood up tall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Known, suspected, and likely targets…and based on what we  know about you, well , you were pushed up that list.” He slipped the phone from his pocket and tapped on the laptop. “I suggest you keep your eyes on that screen.”

With a darkened stare, Zorokov straightened himself to sit up square in his bed. His attention turned to the computer sitting on his lap. 

Getting in contact with Laswell, Price had the phone to his ear as she answered his call. 

“ John. ” 

“In a meeting with Zorokov. You’ve got his financials available, yeah?”

“ I do .”

“Bleed the shell accounts first.”

The banking information on the laptop screen showed the drain on the account as fund blockages were accepted and transfers put on hold. 

“I have a feeling your comrades might not like that their money’s tied up with you for much longer. Might not be so safe after all. Men like that don’t take too kindly to being fucked around, eh? You’re about to owe a lot to some dangerous people. Would be a real shame if you didn’t have the funds to keep yourself alive, wouldn’t it?”

Zorokov’s eye began to twitch, his lip curling into a snarl.  “Threaten me all you want, it doesn’t change anything. War still goes on and there are those of us who will prosper.”

“Fundin’ both sides certainly helps, doesn’t it?”

“You think I’m the first to do so? Look at your precious America, Britain…you think they aren’t complicit in the same fucking thing? CIA, MI6, FSB – they are all the same. Manufacturing conflict for their own ends. War is good business.”

“And Al Ghulam…” Rory stepped into the light, looking him dead in the eye. “What’s the tie to him?” 

“Never heard of him.” Glancing away from her, his body gave her all the telltale signs of a lie. The heavy swallow, shortening of breath, the sweat on the brow. He was breaking down. And an incredibly shitty liar when he wasn’t the one in control. He had grown lazy, complacent with all that money at his fingertips. 

He stood no chance against her.

“Bullshit,” she growled. “I was the one to get him to talk. I know he was working with a European PMC group when it came to transferring human lives across from Iraq in trade for weapons, a group that was working with ISIS.” She drew closer, coming within reach of the oligarch, her eyes flaring. “Why do I get the feeling you were behind that group?”

Rory and Zorokov locked eyes, like a bull seeing red she was ready to charge and attack. Ready to gore the bastard for what he had done, for the acts he was complicit in. Striking at the jugular just as Price agreed they would. 

She decided to play chicken with the man.

Her stare never wavering, she waited for him to talk. Waiting for the lack of pain medication flowing into his system to have its desired effect. Her voice lowered to a harsh whisper as she leaned over, crowding him. “Tell me I’m right.”

Zorokov flinched first.

“You hear that?” Price spoke into his phone, giving Laswell another weak spot to exploit. “Come across any ties to PMCs in the records?”

“A few…” Laswell replied.

“How many working in Syria or Iraq?”

“ Just one. Based out of Kastovia, they’ve been in and out of the middle east region for years . Recently there was an influx of funds from a Saudi oil shell.”

“Saudis, eh?” Price’s eyes lifted to meet Rory’s across from him. “You ready for a change of scenery, Sergeant?”

They were heading to the desert, back to the sand and the beaming hot heat. It was still odd to think that she had only been back in England for the last six months, put on desk duty with the SRR, and now here she was headed back into the chaos she had been given a reprieve from. Tying up loose ends that she never thought she would get the chance to. Healing old wounds after opening them up again on this mission. However, one glaring problem still existed, sitting in the hospital bed before them.

“And him?” Rory tipped her head towards the Russian in their midst.

“He's not out of the woods yet. Intelligence is going to love to get their hooks in ‘im.”

She scowled, her fixed stare burning a hole between Zorokov’s eyes. “Protection. Really ?” Her gaze shifted back to the captain; jaw clenched tight. It felt like a punch to the gut, another of these bastards being given the last thing they deserved. A slap on the wrist and then every transgression hidden from sight once more. 

“For now. Come on, Sergeant. We got what we needed.” Price closed the laptop and scooped it under his arm. “Let's move.”

She snarled, giving the Russian one last glaring look before leaving the room. Shoving her way past the security detail, fury coiled inside her. The mission wasn’t about stopping Zorokov, nor cutting off one of the heads of the hydra. It was about his ties to the greater threat, the terrorists. It was about weapons. War . The machine she was very much a part of. Women and children be damned, it was never about them.

[nothingbutnowhere]

Hockey Player AU! Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Headcanons

...

Superstar. Forward. Drafted first overall. Alt captain. Left wing.

Raised in the UK but was soon recognized for his potential. A US family took him in to play in the states where he would have better opportunities. Trained at all the top notch facilities though high school with the best of the best. Drafted right out of high school and went straight into the NHL on a truly wild contract.

Top line, but put him with anyone and he'll make something happen. 50+ goal scorer, plus sooo many assists. Always in the right place at the right time. Guy you don't want to see four on four / three on three, he's dangerous on open ice.  

Wheel, snipe, celly. Crazy aim, bar down all day everyday. Moderately flashy but honestly he can't help it, he's got HANDS; can stick handle in a phone booth. Seriously the compilation videos look like they should be from chel not real life. 

Still responsible defensively, he's not going to leave his guys hanging. Soap's a defenseman and they work super well together. Soap will put it on net from the blue line and Gaz will grab the rebound and put it in, he doesn't care how good the goalie's rebound control is. 

Always has a fun celly ready for the crowd! Amazing sportsmanship (aside from the chirps). Clean player, no cheapshots here. He always apologizes for bad hits or accidents. Well known in the league for just being a great guy behind closed doors too.

Could be a contender for literally any award he's eligible for. MVP, points, sportsmanship, community activism, you name it. 

The Only charismatic hockey player. Does lots of interviews, is active on personal social media, has his own brand of activewear. Started a program to make hockey more accessible to underserved youth in his city.

Kills at chel. He was the cover last season!

Thigh. That's it that's the tweet. Insane thigh muscles. Wears short shorts around pregame so the social media people can get some good photos. And we all go nuts over it on twitter.

Mic'd up status: absolutely has and does want to be mic'd up, always gassing up his teammates, throws devastating chirps with Soap. They have to beep most of Soap's though because they're too explicit.

Hockey hair status: Sure it looks nice short but where's the flow!!! Natural?? Locs??? Please consider. Facial hair during the playoffs... the beard isn't up to par but the mustache is fine.

Roster pic status: smiling, manages to look hot where everyone else on the team looks like shit

WAG status: His girlfriend is hot and basically queen of the WAGs. Always in their box during games with the other girls having a fun time. They look sooo good together it's not even funny. Hosts parties at their house for the team. Their couples halloween costumes are the best!!

She's also a community activist and dropped the puck at one of their home games. Gaz, of course, took the face off. And then got down on one knee to propose to her. Obviously she said yes and the video went viral instantly.

....

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

More hockey au: Ghost | Soap | Price

Note: "Chel" is an abbreviation of NHL referring to the video game. WAG stands for wife and girlfriend or the plural, used to refer to sports guy's significant others. Yes it is heteronormative.

The WAG part is absolutely welcome to be interpreted as self insert :D

[eblu3]

You should talk about your special interests :3

scolipede

well uh you got me actually because my special interests are kinda voided at the moment? which is very strange because I usually have at least something giving me brainworms. but I can probably start reviving some past special interests for the sake of it. here goes:

Channel 4 (UK) has had by far some of the best on-air branding I've seen, especially during the 2000s

the Chao system in the Sonic Adventure games is actually really complex! they have an entire genetics system going on as well as three secret forms that you can obtain by completing a very specific set of tasks. I participated a few forum roleplays with Chao characters around 10-11 years ago, mine was a gray two-tone hero/run that eventually gained waterbending powers or something

people talk about y2k and frutiger aero all the time but my favorite aesthetic is vectorheart. I actually did some of the initial research into that believe it or not!

linux is actually really cool, being able to have that much granular control over your computer like that. unfortunately it gets paraded around by really annoying fanatics and nobody ever develops for people who don't understand what a terminal is on there so it's doomed to obscurity until someone finally pushes to make it user friendly across the board

I read pokemon fanfic from time to time. unfortunately everything involving scolipede seems to be pokephilia. might have to be the change that I want to see in the world there, but I'm kinda crap at planning out stories so bleh

uh turns out I still have it in me I guess. I'm probably too neurodivergent to remember some of my other past special interests but maybe they'll come back to me at some point

[citrusses]

November 2023: AO3 Wrapped 🎁

A monthly roundup of *some* of my favorite fics of the year.

January | February | March | April, May, June | July | August | September | October | November | December

AITA for being "obsessed" with my childhood nemesis? by @rainstormradish (M, 4K)

I [24M] attended a small boarding school in the UK. There was a boy in my year, a couple of months younger than me, and he became my nemesis after we developed an intense rivalry. My friend [25F] told me recently that our dynamic was "weird back then" and that "it’s even weirder" that I still think about him today. She argued that I talk about him all the time, but I believe the amount I talk about him is reasonable. AITA?

What can I say that hasn’t been said? This is so brilliant and perfect. Another fic this year that does something so clever with its medium and still manages to not distract from its brilliant storytelling and character-driven heart.

Half Sick of Shadows by @starquestingfordrarry (E, 39K)

Harry and Draco have been sleeping together for months, and it's fine. It's enough for Harry. But when things finally start to feel like the more Harry's been hoping for, a strange tapestry project has him worrying he won't ever get the chance.

I have so many wonderful things to say about this, I was truly moved by the story and the writing absolutely destroyed me. This one already has such a special place in my heart. It’s also worth noting that my original caption was: “Draco is so hot 🥵”.

In the lining of your skin by @maesterchill (E, 9K)

Draco has wanted Harry Potter for as long as he can remember. After he’s attacked and turned by a werewolf he’s placed in a halfway house while he undergoes rehabilitation and training. The fact that the house in question belongs to the object of his desire has all of Draco’s wants rushing to the surface. And it’s almost full moon, so his self-control is stretched paper thin.

*My* self-control was stretched paper thin by this, good god.

I've Got a Beautiful Feeling (Everything's Going My Way) by toomuchplor (E, 3500)

“I’ve got such a boner,” Harry says, voice scratchy, just slitting his eyes open now, turning his head on his pillow to face Draco. “Oh, lovely, good morning to you, too,” Draco says.

Sweet lovely perfection.

the earth from a distance by @andthepeople (E, 15K)

“Well,” Harry said gamely, once they’d managed to find the Leaky Cauldron – still under construction but mercifully open for business – and he’d turned up a few knuts from his pockets, enough to get them a room for the night, “it could be worse.” “Really,” Malfoy drawled. “We’re stuck in the 16th century, with no idea how we got here or how we might go about getting back – pray tell, Potter, how could this situation possibly be worse?”

Instant classic, incredibly fun to read.

The Pile by @b-vul (Not rated)

Why is Harry collecting sticks? Harry doesn’t know.

I lost my MIND over this. Brilliant original absurd in the best way.

What a Fucking Git by @lqtraintracks (E, 2K)

For all anybody else knows, Quidditch stars Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy still hate each other....

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥. I mean. Scorching dialogue, incredible sex, what a fic.

[cantsayidont]

1986. This UK-market hardcover reprint annual (whose cover is allegedly by Bryan Talbot, although it doesn't look it) contains Grant Morrison's first Batman story, a moderately florid prose story with illustrations by the late Garry Leach, featuring a Catwoman obviously based more on the '60s TV show than the contemporary comics:

Even 20 years later, Morrison's prose was frequently cringe-worthy, and this is not an auspicious introduction. If you're aching to read this literary gem, I'll put the full text behind the cut.

First page:

There are secret places under the city; closed-off storm drains, obsolete subway tunnels, the cellars of demolished buildings, Down in the dark where nobody goes, there is a network, a maze of buried galleries, Down in the dark a shadow is moving.

Listen! You can almost hear its soft and steady breathing. It has found something. Something very special. The most secret place of all. The woman with green eyes looked around. Her walk through the darkness had taken the best part of three hours. She had clambered gracefully over falls of debris and waded through flooded lightless tunnels. She had walked sure-footedly in places where the sun had never shone, until at last, shimmying her slim body through a crack in the rock, she had come upon the cavern. The eye slits in her mask held scotoptic lenses that allowed her to see in the dark and when she saw what was in the cavern, a smile spread slowly across her fine-boned features. Like the Cheshire Cat she vanished down into the shadows, grinning with strong, white teeth.

Bruce Wayne thumbed the remote control. He’d had enough of the Johnny Carson Show. Not even Superman’s guest appearance could hold his attention. He wondered why his friend agreed to these chat shows and how he managed to maintain his good humour even after the old joke about wearing his underpants on the outside had been trotted out for the thousandth time. The TV went dead and Wayne stared into space. When space became boring he decided to call his butler.

At precisely that moment Alfred Pennyworth, tall, thin and immaculately dressed, opened the door.

“Master Bruce …” he began.

Wayne turned around, startled. “Alfred!” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve added telepathy to your list of accomplishments? I was just going to give you a call. Fancy a game of chess?”

Alfred looked uneasy. “I’m afraid I shall have to decline, Master Bruce, I just popped in to let you know that the intruder alarm has been activated.”

Wayne leapt up, with an athlete’s economy of movement.

“Where?” he said, making for the door.

“In the Batcave, sir. The Trophy Room …”

Wayne was already half-way down the hall.

“Will you be requiring any assistance, sir?” Alfred called after him.

“I’ll let you know.”

Wayne disappeared round a corner. Alfred sighed, tidied the cushions on the sofa and unplugged the TV set.

So  that there would be no noise, he went down by the stairs behind the grandfather clock instead of using the elevator. The lights threw his shadow ahead of him, casting a monstrous black bat shape on the

Second page:

whitewashed walls. He ran lightly through the computer vault of the Batcave and when he reached the Trophy Room he flipped a switch, activating banks of floodlights. In the sudden harsh brightness, nothing moved.

“Whoever you are you're in deep trouble,” said The Batman and his voice was deadly and as cold as December rain, “Come out!”

Nothing moved.

The Batman surveyed the Trophy Room with eyes as hard as diamond shards. This was the most impressive part of the Batcave; an enormous limestone cavern, as big as a cathedral. Down here were stored all the souvenirs of The Batman’s bizarre cases. There was a life-size mechanical Tyrannosaur from Dinosaur Island. There was a chess game with pawns as tall as men and a penny as big as a Ferris wheel. An enormous, eerily lit Joker mask leered down upon a giant dice shaker and a glass cabinet with a bat costume inside. There was an Egyptian sarcophagus and several dangerous umbrellas. There was a very tall penguin and a perfectly normal sized dollar bill. There were over a thousand trophies, free-standing or in cases, utterly strange or quite conventional. There were all these things and one thing more …

“Come out!” The Batman said again. He tilted his head and sniffed. On the edge of the slightly damp, subterranean smell of the cavern he could detect another scent He sniffed again and suddenly knew who was in there with him. He knew and was on his guard.

The woman with green eyes watched him move among the trophies and prepared to strike. She ran the thongs of a whip through her gloved fingers and waited for him to come closer, smiling all the while.

The Batman stopped in front of a shattered case and if he knew before, then this was the final confirmation of the intruder’s identity. He turned, with her name on his lips, and something came whistling through the air towards him.

“Catwoman …” He ducked and the whip smashed what remained of the glass in the cabinet.

“Fancy meeting you here,” said the Catwoman. She cast a critical eye around the cavern. “Wouldn’t stamp collecting take up a little less room?”

“How did you get in here?” The Batman asked, standing up, eyeing her warily. He knew better than to underestimate her. She cracked the whip once more, like a lion tamer.

“Oh, I thought I’d set up operations again in Gotham," she told him. “I came down searching for a new location for my Catacomb lair and instead I stumbled across this place. Lucky for me. A catastrophe for you.”

“Remind me to block up the hole after I’ve taken you back to prison,” said The Batman.

She only smiled wickedly. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Once I discover exactly where under the city we are, I’ll know where to find your front door next time. And so will everybody else. Your secret will be out.”

“But you won’t find out!” The Batman said, allowing himself one icy smile to match hers. “You might have done if you hadn't given yourself away. I smelled your perfume as soon as I came down here.”

He started to advance. “And then when I saw that your cat-o-nine-taiIs was missing from its case, I was sure.”

She backed off. “I was merely reclaiming what was mine. Like a closer look?"

Suddenly the whip snaked out, lashing across Batman’s face. He pitched back, briefly blinded by razor-edged pain.

“What’s a bat but a flying mouse, after all?" he heard her say. “Let’s play cat and mouse.” Her voice grew fainter as she darted away. The Batman shook his head to clear his vision. Blinking through bruised eyelids he heard, nearby, the sound of a ratchet being pulled back.

“I see everything’s in perfect working order,” Catwoman hissed. “Purr-feet working order ...”

There was a sharp detonation. The Batman hit the floor. Something heavy whined past his ear and clipped a strip out of his cape. He did not have to see to know she had used the harpoon cannon. There was a splintering thud as the harpoon smashed through the side wall of a doll’s house. The Batman rolled into cover and looked out through stinging, tear-filled eyes. He was on the chessboard but Catwoman was nowhere to be seen.

She came from behind. The Batman whirled too late to stop the toppling chess piece from pinning his legs. “Checkmate!” shrieked the Catwoman.

Hefting the huge rook off his legs, Batman groggily pulled himself to his feet. One ankle throbbed like a bad tooth. He scanned the Trophy Room for signs of his enemy. When he spotted her, his mouth corrugated into a grimace. She was running up the steep spine of the Tyrannosaur, as surely as a tabby on a fence. When she reached the shoulders, she pulled

Third page:

back the hatch that led into the head of the dinosaur and stepped inside.

The Batman ran, ignoring the pains that thumped through his leg. He ran, while the Trophy Room echoed to the noise of machinery starting to move. With a grinding shudder, the monster’s tail twitched. It twitched once more and then it swung in a flailing arc and demolished a helicopter.

“What a wonderful place you have here!” Catwoman’s voice came through the loudspeaker in the Tyrannosaur’s mouth. “Much more fun than Disneyland!”

The monster lurched and began to move. Its tail thrashed through a row of display cases which burst like bombs, showering The Batman with glass.

“This whole night’s been one long catalogue of disasters for you, Batman dear” mocked the monster, with Catwoman’s voice. His mind racing, Batman ran under the dinosaur, out of her sight. In that comparative safety he reviewed his situation. He had been taken by surprise. He was injured and things looked bad. His only hope lay in turning Catwoman’s own nature against her. Unclipping the radio from his belt, he signalled Alfred.

“Where are you?” purred his enemy. “Come out, come out, the game’s not over.”

The tail shuddered once more, then the dinosaur stopped. The hatch opened and Catwoman jumped down, landing on her feet. “Batman …” Her voice was a lethal whisper and she moved like a hunting cat, flexing the claws on her gloves. “Where are you?”

But he had gone, melted into thin air like a man of grey vapour. She drew her lips back over her teeth and padded off in search of him. She searched the lab and the garage; she searched the storeroom and she searched the computer vault.

And that was where she found the stairs. At the top of those stairs she would find the key to The Batman’s secret identity. She could wipe out his entire operation at a stroke. Or it could be a trap. Perhaps she should escape now and return at her leisure.

She looked back at the caves and she looked up the stairs and finally, overcome by the need to know, she ran up the steps, purring. With the contented expression of a cat that has gorged itself on cream, she opened the door in the grandfather clock.

And Alfred, waiting there, spritzed her face with gas. The satisfaction changed to surprise and then to rage until at last her face went blank and Catwoman keeled over like a doll. Batman caught her.

“Everything all right, sir?” asked Alfred.

“Fine, Alfred,” replied The Batman. “Just fine.”

When she woke up she was in the Batmobile, in downtown Gotham and headed for Police Headquarters.

“Tough luck, Selina,” The Batman consoled her. “Maybe next time.” Catwoman simply snarled.

“I knew you’d try the stairs” he went on. “You just couldn’t resist it. I suppose it proves what they say . . ”

She glared at him with eyes as green as gemstones. “I know. I know,” she spat “It’s not funny.”

The Batman smiled, pulling into the Police parking lot. “Oh, I think it is,” he said. “Just like in the old story: Curiosity Killed the Cat.”