#charles grant one shot

[fastandcarlos]

"Brake! Brake! Brake!" : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: putting you in the simulator was supposed to be a bit of fun for charles, but not even he could prepare himself for the terror of being spectator to this

“My love, you need two hands on the wheel,” Charles told you, standing just beside you as you tried your best to figure out what all the buttons meant, “just drive, I’ll help you with all of those and tell you when you need them.”

“Which one is the brake? I’m gonna crash!” You cried out, entering the first corner on the simulator, your heart was racing, feet tapping around as you tried to find what you were looking for.

“The wall!” Charles yelled, hiding behind his hands as he watched your car veer towards the side as you lost control, unable to concentrate too much.

The sudden feeling of a hand wrapping around your ankle showed you where the brake was as Charles moved your foot onto it. Your mind was racing as you tried to do a million and one things. Behind you, Charles tried his best to help you, but you were far too out of your depth to listen.

It was almost funny for him as he watched you, taking for granted how hard his job was.

“I give up with this, it’s stupid,” you huffed as you almost went into the gravel again, desperately trying to save your car. “I’m not built for all of this driving, can’t I quit?”

“Come on, you’re still only learning,” Charles reminded you, kneeling down so he was by your side. His smile was warm, as funny as he found it watching you, he also knew just how much you wanted to learn more about what he does, giving it a go for yourself.

You carried on battling for a few more moments, luck far from on your side, until a pair of hands hovered over yours against the steering wheel.

“We’ve got this, we’re a team,” Charles whispered as he felt you turn to face him, leaning across and helping you steer the vehicle.

As soon as Charles took a hold the whole thing felt easier, whilst he focused on navigating, you were able to accelerate and brake at just the right moment.

Somehow a few moments later you found yourself crossing the line, surprising yourself that you hadn’t forced your car into the pits to retire.

“That was amazing for a first attempt,” Charles chimed, trying his best to reassure you, “you’ll be a natural soon enough,” he added, kissing the side of your head.

With a bit of persuasion, you decided to give another track a go, reluctantly agreeing when Charles suggested giving Monaco a try. It was your home after all, surely you could remember the roads, but behind the wheel of the simulator, you confidently forgot everything.

“This time just try and worry about one thing at a time, don’t stress too much,” Charles instructed, kneeling back where he was before by your side.

You nodded as you made yourself comfortable, watching for the lights to go out to signal for you to start your race. As soon as they did you slammed your foot down, taking yourself by surprise with how quickly the car shot forwards.

A squeal came from you, a snigger coming from Charles, knowing that you were far from prepared. Your surprise left you struggling for control once again, almost forgetting that the entire track wasn’t straight.

“Brake! Brake! Brake!” A voice cried out from beside you.

Just in time your foot hit the brake, turning the car before you flew off the track. Like before, you barely made it around the track in one piece, glancing at your suffering boyfriend as soon as the race finished.

“You’re amazing at a lot of things, but I don’t think racing is one of them,” Charles joked, reaching across and taking a hold of your hand as he took it off of the steering wheel. Your head immediately nodded in agreement with Charles, it was fun to support him, but you were much better off doing that in the comfort of the paddock.

Charles loved you for trying, he loved how hard you worked to enjoy the things he loved, but even he couldn’t lie and say you were a good driver.

“I’ll leave the grand prix to you,” you laughed, stepping out of the simulator, “I think my strengths lie elsewhere.”

“I can think of a few strengths,” Charles whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.

Your eyes rolled at the knowing expression that was on his face, but you allowed your arms to wrap around his neck anyway.

Charles closed the distance between you both, pressing a kiss against your lips. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?” Charles innocently asked, chuckling to himself as you continued to stare at him, knowing Charles all too well, knowing exactly what he was hinting at too.

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know?”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[cynical-ghost]

YEARS AND YEARS

Paring: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Genre: One-shot, fluff, secret relationship, friends to lovers.

Warning(s): use of Yn.

Synopsis: They had been friends since they were young, but soon that become more and people started noticing.

A/n: my first one-shot! Sorry if it’s bad, I didn’t know where this was going - not proofread.

Yn Ln had been brought up around racing, she attended every race she could and participated in karting when she was younger. The Ln girl enjoyed her time racing against others and the adrenaline it granted her, but as she grew older she drifted from the race track and moved on to other things.

She still had a passion for racing, even if she wasn’t the one in the drivers seat.

Yn still stayed in contact with her racing friends, they often met up and participated in fun activities or just had chilled out movie nights in one another’s apartments.

The friendship she had with Charles Leclerc had always been a close one, her family had moved from England to their holiday apartment in Monaco when she was four years old to give her a better chance at a racing career when she had expressed her passion for the fast paced sport.

She attended the same school as the boy and they quickly became friends after bonding over their love for racing. The two children had ran over to their parents after school and told them about their newfound friendship which led to play dates and days out for the two families.

As they grew older they became more and more competitive and gained a friendly on track rivalry.

When Yn turned sixteen she started exploring other fields of work such as modelling and music. The time she had reserved for Karting decreased, while her friends were being scouted for bigger racing opportunities like Formula 2

By the time she was eighteen she had stopped racing altogether, spending all her time working on other projects. Charles and herself were still very close, though they did things that usually would not be put in the friendship category.

Every time someone would see them they would always be touching, ether holding hands or sharing to-long hugs. When someone would call the two nineteen year olds out on it they would deny the accusation of them being in a relationship.

The to-long hugs soon progressed into quick, secretive kisses in hidden places, and the hand holding became a permanent attachment.

Their friends shared amused glances with each other whenever they saw the two together (which was all the time), The group of racing drivers and their respective partners came together and devised a plan that would hopefully get the ‘friends’ to spill their not so secret relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~<><><><~~~~~~~<><><><~~~~~~~~~~

Yn Ln was in Ferrari hospitality getting herself a quick snack to eat while watching the race, as she walked out of the building with her Jaffa cakes and a bottle of cherry Pepsi in her hands she was stopped by Max Verstappen as she passed by the Redbull garage as she wandered about to pass the time.

“Yn!” The voice of the man dressed in navy blue called out to her, her head whipped to where the shout of her name had came from.

When the woman saw it was her friend Max a smile tugged at her glossy lips, “Max, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the race?” She asked with a tilt of her head, her words coated with the slightest accent.

The man looked over his shoulder quickly, making eye contact with Kelly, before looking back at the person standing in front of him waiting for a response.

“I am, I just wanted to ask if you and Charles wanted to join me and the others for a few drinks at our hotel.” He asked. “Everyone is coming, it would be a shame if you guys didn’t.” He added, looking over at Lando who was walking by.

The man in papaya smiled cheekily and waved at the two, before running off to his garage so he wouldn’t be late for the start of the race.

“Sure, thanks Max.” Was her quick reply, she always enjoyed when the group got together and had a laugh.

The racing driver bid her goodbye as he strode back over to the team of mechanics.

The race had been a good one, Max coming in at P1 and Charles P2 with Lando joining them on the podium with P3.

After the team celebrations and a quick trip home for outfit changes, Yn and Charles were on their way to Max and Kelly’s hotel, they were both ready to wind down after the busy and successful day they had surrounded by their friends.

They were greeted by the other racers and their parters who had also been invited with hugs and congratulations in Charles’ case.

The group huddled together to get comfortable on the double bed and the few chairs around the room and started to watch a generic action movie picked by one of the racers.

The movie was about an hour in when the snacks that had been brought for the movie night looked to have been ravaged by a pack of wild animals, some of the packaging had even been ripped to pieces by Lando and Carlos who fought to get the last Reece’s (Lando won).

“We need more food.” Lando whined, throwing his head back to look at the others from his place on the carpeted floor.

Oscar nodded in agreement and looked to his girlfriend Lily, who was tucked into his side, to see if she wanted anything, she requested a drink quietly to him, still focused on the movie playing on screen.

“We could go for a few bottles of Coke and a some of chips.” The McLaren driver added his own order to the group.

Everyone looked at each other as to determine who would leave the confort of the hotel room to go and buy the requested food and drink. Soon every pair of eyes except for two landed on Yn and Charles who were cuddled up on a tucked away loveseat.

Yn sighed before standing up to stretch her back “Fine, fine we’re going.” Her voice came out ragged due to tiredness and having not been used for a while.

Charles look up at her from his spot on the couch, the two seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes before he too joined her in standing up.

“We’ll be back soon.” The man stated, his words thick with accent due to lack of use.

As the two left the room, quiet chatter started behind the closed door.

“Did you see the way they were cuddling! They can’t keep denying they are together if they are doing things like that in front of people.” Lando started in a whispered exclamation.

Carlos nodded, agreeing with the McLaren driver, “I noticed that too, they were clinging onto each other since the movie started.”

Charles and Yn walked alongside each other, a bag full of snacks and beverages carried by the man. They had been stopped a few times to take pictures with fans along the way.

“Do you think we are being to obvious?” Yn asked quietly as to not be heard by passers by.

Charles thought for a moment before answering in an equally as quiet voice, “maybe, but do you think it’s time to tell them? I mean we have been dating for almost three years.”

“We should probably tell them.” Yn mumbled, she hadn’t realised it had been so long since they had started dating, times flys when your having fun I guess.

The two reached the hotel room, stopping outside the door to go over the plan to tell their friends they have been together for as long as they have been.

Leclerc and Ln walked in with their hands clasped together. “We have something to tell you all” Charles started.

The group inside the room looked at their hands and glanced at each other. “Is it they you two are dating?” Lando blurted earning wide eye looks from the couple.

“Uh-yeh, yeh we hav-.” The two stumbled over their words having not realised their friends had caught on.

Max let out a wheeze at the sight of their caught out faces, Kelly softly hitting the back of his head before letting out a chuckle herself which caused the rest of the group to laugh at the pair still stood by the door.

Yn and Charles gave a sigh of relief at not having to tell the group of drivers and parters themselves, rolling their eyes at the laughing figures of their friends.

As the laughter sobered up max spoke up “so how long of you two actually been together?” The others staring at them intently also wanting to know.

“Three years….”Charles coughed out.

“Jesus!”

“Did you just forget to tell us or something?!”

Were some of the outraged answers from their close friends. Max looked at Yn’s face and realised that that was actually what had happened. “You really forgot to tell us didn’t you?” He laughed out.

Embarrassed nods were all he got from the pair.

[blurredcolour]

Born To Be Yours

[One-shot | Sequel to We'll Meet Again]

Eugene Roe x Nurse!Female Reader

Despite the end of the war in Europe, violence still finds its way to the men of Easy company. Thankfully, Eugene knows just where to find you to get them help.

Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Questionably Written Cajun Accent, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [Kissing, Necking, Dry Humping] - 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note: Slight warning - the events of this fic are centered around the shooting of Sergeant Charles E Grant. The title of this fic is based off the song 'Yours' by Vera Lynn. For your reference, the Cajun pronunciation of cher, Eugene's term of endearment for the reader, is 'sha.' Just to help you really imagine it in your head. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 3887

-------------------------

This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to be happening. Not here in Austria after the surrender of the German army. Not today, the anniversary of D-Day. And yet here Eugene sat, balanced over a stretcher bearing a motionless Grant, holding an IV of blood above his head as Speirs sped down the road toward Saalfelden where the 47th Field Hospital was set up on the edge of town. Talbert rode in the front seat, frequently glancing back at them over his shoulder.

It was a miracle Grant was still breathing after receiving the headwound, continued to breathe through the frantic bandaging and loading onto Speirs’ jeep.

“Where’s the nearest surgeon?” The Captain had barked and Gene had answered easily, known it immediately, because the nearest surgeon was with you.

After parting ways in Titz, following that very eventful Easter Sunday, your hospital had stayed precisely where it was intended to be – twenty-five kilometers behind the line as they advanced across Germany. You had surprised Eugene by sending your next letter not by post, but in the pocket of an ambulance driver who had been all too happy to receive a pack of smokes from you for his trouble. Your ingenuity had opened his eyes, and he’d sent his own reply back two days later, postage paid with chocolate from his rations.

Being able to write one another without the censors having a say, to share every detail of your daily lives without fear of the letter going missing – as long as you each chose a trustworthy deliveryman of course – was a relief after all the delays in communication the pair of you had previously endured. Eugene was admittedly disheartened when he learned that your station in Austria would be in Saalfelden with the majority of the 101st Airborne while Easy and the rest of 2nd Battalion found themselves a further seventeen kilometers down the road in Zell Am See.

There remained a remarkable number of things for him to do, and the lack of ambulance traffic, while a blessing, severely impeded your correspondence once more. In short, Eugene was feeling awfully guilty about the fact that he had not managed to visit you since the war in Europe had ended. As the jeep pulled up outside the requisitioned gymnasium that had been turned into the 47th Field Hospital, he was not certain if he hoped you were there or not.

He jumped off the back of the vehicle as Speirs and Talbert grabbed each end of the stretcher and the three of them rushed toward the building. Eugene hurried a few steps ahead to pull the door open, wincing a little as Speirs shouldered it open fully, sending into the wall with a ‘bang.’ There was a scurry of footsteps from down a hallway to the right before you stepped into view, clad in your white and brown striped hospital dress, a brown cardigan over top with the sleeves pushed up to your elbows. Concern etched your features.

“Follow me.” You said quickly, rushing to pull open the next door into the gymnasium itself. “On the table right there please, sir.” You gestured to a makeshift exam table built of filing cabinets and a cot.

“Chief Nurse?” A young woman poked her head out from behind a privacy screen and Eugene nearly tripped over his own feet.

Last he’d heard you were Assistant Chief Nurse, promoted after your natural leadership of the group of nurses during your nine hours of capture. You’d gone and gotten yourself promoted again. He fought the urge to grin at you proudly as they carefully set Grant down as instructed.

“Shirley, go fetch Dr. Brock from his office immediately.”

“We need a surgeon.” Speirs rasped and Eugene watched the girl halt her progress across the room and look back to you questioningly.

“Dr. Randall then, quickly.” You amended, shifting to begin triage on the patient by checking his vitals as Speirs took Grant’s hand in his tightly.

Shirley fled the room, returning in less than a minute with a dark-haired man wearing a white coat in tow – surely Dr. Randall. A cigarette hung for his lips as he looked to Eugene for the hand off.

“Shot in the head with a pistol, maybe twenty minutes ago? Bandaged and given blood by IV.”

He saw Shirley hand you a chart out of the corner of his eye and you quickly noted these things along with the vitals you’d been taking when the surgeon had walked in. Dr. Randall leaned down to lift the bandages, inspecting Grant’s wound.

“Jesus.” He muttered.

“What?” Speirs asked, looking to him quickly.

“He’s not gonna make it.” Dr. Randall said, taking a slow drag on his cigarette.

“Ya can’t operate on him?” Eugene asked incredulously. This man was a surgeon, this was his job.

“Not me. You’d need a brain surgeon. And even if you had one, I don’t think there’s any hope.” Dr. Randall rubbed at his eyes, obviously just as worn out from the endless number of casualties he’d born witness to, before walking off.

Eugene’s eyes slid to meet yours where you remained next to the spot recently vacated by Dr. Randall; felt his throat clench painfully at the look of deep sympathy you were sending him.

Speirs took a breath and turned to Talbert, breaking the stunned silence that had fallen over the group. “You find the shooter, I want him alive.” He pointed at him for emphasis before turning back to Eugene. “Come on help me.”

“What’re you doing?” Talbert asked, grabbing the end of the stretcher.

“We’re gonna go find a brain surgeon!” Speirs declared before they were off and running back towards the door.

“There’s a German hospital further into town, follow this road for five blocks then hang a left.” You spoke quickly, hurrying to hold open the doors to ease their progress back to the jeep.

“Thank ya, Ma’am.” Eugene nodded quickly, ducking slightly as it had begun to lightly rain while they were inside.

“Take care.” Your voice shook a little and Eugene looked back to you once he’d resumed his perch on the back of the jeep, watching you wrap your cardigan tighter around yourself as you stood in the rain, staring at him intently until the vehicle jerked into motion as Speirs took off in the direction you had instructed.

The hospital was easy enough to find, thanks to your directions, and Talbert secured another jeep there to carry out Speirs’ orders to find the shooter. The brain surgeon was not currently on duty, but Speirs was undeterred and demanded his home address, from which he fetched him out of bed to operate immediately.

“It will take several hours.” The German surgeon had warned them when Speirs had asked where the waiting room was.

“We’ll wait.” He had replied flatly, and Eugene had followed after him as a nurse led them into an empty room filled with worn chairs and a few side tables with outdated German periodicals.

Eugene watched Speirs sink into one of the chairs while he found himself unable to sit down, wandering the perimeter of the room quietly, mind turning over all manner of things, but always coming back to how reluctant you had looked to see him go. The guilt within him had multiplied astronomically – he had been a fool to not rush to see you the instant he could, and now your first interaction since Easter was purely professional and surely terrifying. Precisely why he had been so very reluctant to admit his feelings to you in the first place.

“Doc, if you’re not going to sit down, go talk to that pretty Chief Nurse, would you?” He muttered, pulling the garrison cap from his hair.

Eugene’s head whipped up to look at his commanding officer in shock. Shock at the fact that Speirs had had the wherewithal to notice the looks you had been exchanging over Grant’s prone form. Shock that he was allowing him the liberty to visit you. Pure shock.

“Otherwise, it’s going to be a very long couple of hours.” There was a dangerous edge to the man’s voice that made Eugene swallow nervously and nod sharply.

“Yes sir, I’ll be back in a few hou’s then, sir.” He moved to slip out of the waiting room.

“Be careful out there, Doc.” Came Speirs’ parting command and Eugene nodded once more before heading out into the street, thankful that the blackout was no longer in effect and he had the assistance of streetlights to retrace his steps back to the Field Hospital.

He made a much quieter entrance this time, finding the nurse, Shirley, at the desk near the door in the gym.

“Oh, you’re the medic from earlier – how is your man?” She asked in a hushed voice as she stood.

“In surgery with a German brain surgeon now…I was wonderin’ if I migh’ speak ta you’ Chief Nurse?” He tilted his head, and she nodded quickly leading him down the hall to an unassuming office door.

“She’s still here, working late again.” She laughed softly and knocked.

“Thank ya, Ma’am.” He nodded as she nodded in return before heading back into the gym as your door swung inward.

“Gene…” You breathed in surprise, peering into the hallway as if to confirm he was truly alone.

“Cher…” He murmured in response, tremor in his own voice this time, and your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him into the moderately sized office.

Your arms pulled him into a tight embrace as you nudged the door shut with your foot. He buried his face into your hair, fingers curling into the knit of your cardigan against your back.

“I’m right here, Gene.” You sighed soothingly, arms holding him so tightly, so warmly, Eugene was convinced you might actually be able to fuse his broken pieces back together. To make him feel whole again.

“Merci, cher.” He managed to find his voice after a moment, pulling back slightly only to press his lips to yours tightly in a physical expression of his gratitude.

Eugene felt the tremble that rolled through your body in response, his hands gripping you tighter as your fingers wended their way into his hair making him shudder in return. There was something about your touch tonight that felt like he was playing with fire, your entire presence loaded with explosive charge that could set him off at any moment. He pulled his lips back quickly before he did something wildly inappropriate in your office and panted against your mouth.

“M’sorry I haven’ come ta visit ya.”

Your response was a breathless laugh that made him bite the inside of his cheek.

“I’ve barely left this office. I’m beginning to think this promotion was a curse disguised as a blessing.” You smirked and stole one more kiss from his lips before straightening to look over his face warmly.

“It’s late, and I know ya don’ work nigh’s no mo’e…” He tried to keep the admonishing tone in his voice light, but he was admittedly upset you were working after midnight, something that even he was aware was unusual for a Chief Nurse.

“You know too much, Gene.” Your fingers smoothed his hair gently, restoring order to the strands you had put into disarray, a fond smile stretching his lips as he truly adored hearing you call him ‘Gene.’

His heart had nearly stopped when it had appeared in your letters but to hear it leave your lips was heaven itself.

“Let me walk ya home, tha man who did tha’ is still out the’e.”

He watched your eyes widen before you frowned deeply, shaking your head in dismay. “Did you find the hospital?”

“German brain surgeon’s operatin’ now…”

You took a slow breath before nodding. “I usually have an MP escort me, are you sure you don’t have to get back?”

He shook his head. “Grant’ll be in surgery a few hou’s longah. Cap’n Speirs won’ leave ‘till it’s ovah. Told me ta ‘go talk to that pretty Chief Nurse’ if I wouldn’t sit still.” Gene smirked ruefully and you blinked rapidly before biting your lip.

“Perhaps we have not been nearly as subtle as we thought, Gene…”

He laughed softly under his breath as he watched you turn to collect your things, sliding a small utility bag over your shoulder before turning out the desk light. The desk itself was still covered in stacks of files and he couldn’t help but frown as it seemed that your late nights had barely made a dent in the work your new position had foisted upon you.

“Wait here.” You said once you’d locked your office door and walked a little further down the hall to knock on another door.

He could barely make out another man’s voice, it didn’t sound like Dr. Randall, so presumably Dr. Brock, before you swung by the desk in the gymnasium to wish Shirley a good night. One last stop at the MP office to the left of the entrance where you informed your usual escort you had someone to walk you home before the pair of you were able to step out into the damp night. Thankfully, the rain had stopped falling but the puddles on the ground were plentiful as Eugene offered his arm. He could not help his fond smile as you took it without hesitation, hugging his elbow close as you walked side-by-side.

“I’m quite close to the hospital actually.” You gestured down the road and he nodded, turning that way.

“Tha’s how ya knew…”

Your soft laugh made his stomach quiver slightly though he did not miss the yawn you tried to smother.

“Ya been workin’ late a lot, cher?” He prompted softly, vigilant to your surroundings but so far, the streets were quiet.

“Mm.” You nodded slowly before sighing. “Seems the Chief Nurse before me was not such a fan of paperwork. Maude was a fantastic leader, we’re lucky to have her as the Assistant Director of Austria base, but if I had known what was awaiting me in that office…well I’d probably have asked to help her more when I was her assistant.”

He felt you tug on his arm and looked down to you quickly to see you pointing across the street to a modest apartment building.

“We’re quartered here.”

Eugene nodded and led you across the street as you fished for the keys in your bag. He couldn’t help but notice that you were in fact only a few blocks from the German hospital where Grant was still undergoing surgery. He said another silent prayer to guide the hands of the surgeon to success as you led him up to the building entrance.

A pair of sharp cries cut through the night, making the both of you freeze briefly.

“Hey!”

“Stop right there!”

The voices were still a block or so away, but belonged to men that Eugene knew a well as his own family.

“Inside cher, now.” He said quickly, pulling you toward the building.

“Second floor.” You uttered quickly and he pushed you up the stairs front of him, hands on your hips as he could hear the voices of Talbert and Malarkey growing closer, accompanied by footsteps splashing through puddles and the rumble of a jeep engine close behind.

You stopped at an apartment door and Eugene noted your struggle to line the key with the deadbolt, gently but firmly taking it from you to unlock the door and push you inside. He was quick to close and lock the door behind him, wanting you nowhere near the drunken madman who had already killed at least two people tonight. He heard you take a breath as you turned back toward him and he gently covered your mouth with his palm, shushing you softly as he listened for further noises from the street below.

They sounded as if they were right outside, their voices rising up through the stairwell as his wide eyes bored directly into yours.

“Yeah, that’s him!”

“Get in the jeep you son of a bitch.”

The sound of the engine faded off into the night and Eugene waited a full minute before lowering his hand from your mouth, the only sound remaining being the pounding of his heart in his ears. He heard you suck in a breath, the only warning he was afforded before your lips collided with his. He stumbled slightly, startled a moment, before the adrenaline in his veins was transformed into white hot desire. His hands clutched at your lower back, pulling you tightly against him as he blindly stumbled toward the doorway he had glimpsed upon entering your apartment.

He felt your body impact with something behind you and pulled back from your lips quickly to see he had backed you into the kitchen table. He felt you rise up onto your toes, seemingly intent on sitting on the tabletop and his hands quickly seized your hips, aiding you in your efforts by hoisting you the last bit of distance. He could not help the smirk that graced his features as you gasped at his strength; hard-won through years of training and carrying wounded from the battlefield. His mouth quickly returned to yours, shuddering as your tongue met his eagerly, your fingers once more burrowing into his hair.

Eugene’s lungs began to ache from a lack of oxygen and he reluctantly pulled back from your lips only to begin trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your throat. Your shaky exhale filled his ears as your fingers began to tug at the buttons of his OD jacket, sending his own in search of the same on your cardigan. As he pushed the fabric out of the way, he slid his hands along your sides, sucking at the hollow of your throat, exhaling hotly against your skin as you parted your legs for him.

“Cher…” He rasped against your skin, gulping at the whimper that fell from your lips as he stepped closer, nestling between your thighs.

Your body felt so hot against him, even through his ODs and wool trousers, he was helpless not to press as tightly to you as possible, not even leaving a hairsbreadth of space. Your fingers curled into the front of his wool shirt, hips bucking against his slightly as you whimpered again.

“Gene!” Your gasped and he kissed you fiercely as his lower abdomen grew heavy with arousal, blood rushing to his already hardening length as he rutted against you obligingly.

The moan that rattled from your throat into his mouth had his head swimming, his baser instincts immediately taking over, demanding he do anything and everything to draw that sound from you again and again. His hands shifted to grip your thighs, pulling your body even tighter to his as he continued to move against you, delighting in your repeated cries of pleasure which he devoured hungrily. He barely noticed your persistence against the buttons of his uniform shirt until he felt your hands sliding around his torso with only the thin barrier of his undershirt separating your skin, a groan falling from his lips as he tore them from yours.

“Merde.” He hissed, screwing his eyes shut against the salaciously delicious friction between your bodies.

“Mm! I know that one…” You giggled breathily against his neck before your lips were on his skin, making his hips rock sharply against yours.

“Feel so good, cher.” He groaned again, hands shifting beneath the hem of your dress, beneath the hem of your slip, to find the bare skin of your thighs. Quite possibly the softest thing he’d ever touched.

“Yes, Gene.” You whined against his kiss-dampened skin. “Don’t stop.”

He grunted in agreement, fingers tracing higher to grip your hips, increasing the friction yet again as he rutted his fully hard cock against your underwear. The moan that fell from your lips contained an almost anguished tone and he had to grit his teeth against the desire to climax at just the sound of it. Your fingers were digging into his back through the cotton of his undershirt, hips echoing every motion of his as his fingers delved past the edge of your underwear to curl into the soft flesh of your buttocks.

“Oh god Gene I’m…” You panted, head rolling back, and he nodded vigorously, eyes latching onto your face, desperate to watch you fall apart in his arms.

Eugene had long been convinced that you could do everything with grace, and you once again proved his assumption correct as your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, your mouth falling open to emit a soft wail of pure ecstasy. Burying his face against your neck, he cursed harshly as his hips bucked sharply, all sense of rhythm and control abandoning him as his orgasm immediately overtook him. Sliding one hand out from beneath your skirt to brace against the table lest he collapse onto you, he smiled sheepishly as you grinned up at him, your lower lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sorry, Gene…” You murmured, running your hands along his back soothingly, your chests brushing against one another as you both struggled to catch your breath.

He shook his head quickly and then tensed. “Do ya….are ya the only one billeted in he’e?” He glanced back toward the hallway, suddenly aware of how much noise the pair of you had made.

Your bright peal of laughter caught his attention, and he turned back to you quickly.

“You ask me that now, Gene?!” You teased, gripping the back his neck to pull him down for a lazy kiss as he huffed a laugh against your lips in reply. “No, just me. Chief Nurse perk.”

He relaxed with a nod, straightening slowly as his legs finally felt like solid muscle and bone once more.

“The washroom is just down the hall if you wa–”

“Be my wife.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He had intended to make more of a spectacle of it. Hell, he had intended to have a ring to put on your finger. But the way you were looking up at him now with glossy eyes still hazy with pleasure, crinkled at the corners as you smiled his favorite smile to date – he was helpless to hold them back.

Eugene held his breath as he watched your eyes widen, your mouth drop open, as his unexpected statement hung in the air.

“Are you…proposing to me Eugene Roe?” You exhaled and he gulped roughly.

“I understand if ya don’ wanna marry me, I still have ta go ta tha Pacific an’…”

“How could I say no, Gene, when I was born to be yours.” You eyed him softly but there was something about your words, and the way your lips were twitching with mirth, that tugged at the back of his brain.

“Cher are ya quotin’ Vera Lynn again?” He huffed and grimaced playfully at your answering laugh, yet felt his heart begin to beat double time as your hands cupped his cheeks and your expression grew serious.

“Eugene Roe, I would love to be your wife.” You nodded firmly and sealed your acceptance with a firm kiss that made his heart soar.

-------------------------

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24, @phyllisthefirst, @footprintsinthesxnd, @she-wolf09231982

[leclsrc]

team effort ✴︎ cl16, cs55

genre: 18+, pwp (very little plot), filthy, fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but now you’re in-between your boyfriend and his teammate again. So really, maybe, this could become a regular thing. (sequel of sorts to this but can stand alone just fine)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… alright. a threesome, penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (M receiving), handjob (F receiving), double penetration (crowd leaves), dirty talk (degradation), crying, breeding, rough sex, size kink, requires suspension of belief regarding the inner workings of anal and positions apologies, spit kink (crowd leaves again)

probably the most requested thing i get, and i felt like practicing my pwp writing so—i hope you like it everyone! :) love auds

“Hey, you brought the pretty girl,” teases Carlos, a glass of alcohol in hand. He pushes it into Charles’ hand and you watch as your boyfriend takes a sip, vision semi-obstructed by how dark the place is. “Mind if I get a picture?”

“Course I did.” Charles smiles, and his left eye drops into a subtle wink. “And sure, she begged to come anyway.” His teammate laughs. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. Come say hi to the others.”

Your face turns hot when it registers what he’s just said, but it’s too late to get a quip in; a gentle hand at your waist is guiding you through the crowd of people, by the DJ booth, and into the seats just beside it populated by several familiar faces. You accept and return a few hellos and heeeys from Lando and Pierre, among others, and when a shot is offered to you by Danny, you take it.

Charles lets you wander around the area for a while to get used to the place, watches you laugh about something with Carmen and try your hand at the DJ table with Lando, combing your hair over to one side. You take a few shots because George feels like “letting loose” (he takes two). 

He sees a patch of concealer just below your collarbone; granted, it’d have been hidden if you were wearing something less low-cut than your dress right now, but he spots it and he immediately realizes what it is with an amused laugh.

When his eyes glide upward from your cleavage, he finds you’re already looking at him, eyes half-lidded and mouth tugged into a pretty smile. He sees you excuse yourself, walking right into his arms, pouting. He tips his glass over to your lips, pours some of his drink in.

“What’s the matter, baby? Wanna smoke?” He leans against the railing of the VIP area, seating himself there and pulling you close so you’re pressed up against him. You inhale his scent, his cologne, nip at his jaw. You always get so touchy when you’ve got some alcohol in you.

There’s a blunt or three being passed around, you smell it. “Nothing. I think ‘m getting a little tipsy, I don’t want to crossfade.” You blink and it’s like your eyelids are droopy with honey. The party’s thick with the heady scent of tequila, mixed perfume, weed, and saturated with heavy bass. If you’re totally honest you’ve lost track of time.

“There you are,” goes a voice, and you tense. 

“I was looking for you, too, mate.” Your boyfriend’s arm reaches to someone behind you and shakes. “Girlfriend’s feeling a bit tipsy.” He pulls his hand back in, rests it over your the small of your back. 

“You okay?” Carlos leans in, his voice hot against your ear. You blink, in a daze of tipsy and hot, nodding. You’re in between them now, still pressed against your boyfriend. Slowly, your head lolls onto Carlos’ shoulder, exposing your neck. If you stepped back just a bit, you realize—

—you’d feel Carlos’ dick pressed against your ass. “A little tired,” you say, opening your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s. Normally they’re green, but now they’re so dark you can barely tell. The limited lighting doesn’t help. Your knees are weak with the way you resist the urge to grind back onto Carlos, who’s laughing, observing your ditzy face. 

“Let’s get you out of here, huh?” Charles smiles. He’s always so sweet. Doing what you want, what you need, a nice guy in that respect. So he can take what he wants later. He and Carlos down the rest of their drinks, and they’re both ushering you out the back exit and directly into the parking lot.

It’s a direct replay of what happened a few months ago, and what happened a few times afterward. After dinners, races, nights out—it wasn’t too frequent, but enough that it became a thing. Enough, too, that you could grow antsy if it didn’t happen for too long. 

Your boyfriend brought a different car today, his Range Rover with a spacious backseat you’re being guided into. The lack of heavy bass and strobe lights help you feel more sober, but don’t help with the arousal at all. As you climb, your dress hikes up a bit, and Carlos catches a peek of your panties underneath, white and almost see-through, showing the outline of your pussy.

They’re on either side of you, your breath hitching when they lean in closer, lip caught between your teeth and eyes screwed shut. Your boyfriend’s hand grazes your thigh and you spread your legs, involuntary, sighing a low please. Please what, you don’t even know.

“You want this?” Charles asks. He takes things slowly, a dreamy smile on his face, eyebrows knitted together. His hand moves upward, and he runs a few teasing fingers over the lace of your white panties, pressing them harder until you’re starting to squirm, breathless ahs leaving your lips.

“Please,” you say, voice small and desperate. “Yes.”

Your approval makes them more excited; they’ve both missed this more than they’re willing to let on. Your mouth is half open, letting out noises, eyes half-open; Carlos wonders what you’d look like covered in cum. Both his and Charles’, splayed all over your pretty waiting face.

The first time this happened, Carlos watched for the most part. He’d been chained to the driver’s seat, listening to the wet noises of Charles’ fingers fucking into you. He made eye cotnact with you right as you came, a long, drawn-out moan leaving your mouth. He fucked you another time. And he’s missed the feeling. He’s missed the sight of your fucked-out face, moaning on his cock, or his teammate’s, or both.

You press your lips to Charles and he encourages you to part them, slowly deepening the kiss until you’re moaning into his mouth, hips bucking up into nothing. “Please,” you say, “give me something.” Anything, you’ll take anything.

Carlos brings two big fingers to his mouth, laves his tongue over them, and brings them to the apex of your thighs, pushing aside the lace and fucking them into you, one by one. You gasp into Charles’ mouth—his fingers are so thick, pumping in and out at a brutal pace without waiting for you to adjust to the strength. You whimper, breaking the kiss because everything’s too much, head leaning back and eyes meeting the grey ceiling of the car.

“God, she’s wet.” You hear the teasing smile without looking up. “And tight.”

“I know,” your boyfriend says, smiling as he sucks a hickey onto your throat. Your legs quiver. 

It’s Charles’ voice again, sweet and deep against your ear. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” you say, nodding eagerly, lifting your head up and looking right at him. 

“Thank him,” he orders. They always do this, make you talk and use your words when your brain is all scrambled and going a thousand different directions. It’s only worse when they start talking about you like you’re not there, using dirty words and sliding into native languages you can’t understand, but they can, and they laugh watching you whimper for more.

“Thank—thank you,” you whisper, turning from your boyfriend’s face to Carlos.

“You’re welcome, princesa. You’re going to make us feel good, too, right?”

You nod.

“Why don’t you start now?” The instruction comes from Charles and you follow suit, hands going from your sides to the tents in their jeans, grabbing at the huge bulges there. You’re losing grip, Carlos’ big fingers are moving faster, feeling your orgasm approach faster. 

Already? Shiiit, your boyfriend says with a low laugh. Go ahead and cum first, baby. Go ahead.

His words are so sweet, kissing up and down your neck, the stimulation pushing you further until you’re cumming from just two fingers. The messy squelch of Carlos’ fingers moving in and out of you gets them both so hard, aching to fuck you, take you apart, make your voice raw. Your moans grow louder and louder, legs trying to close around the hand in between them—they’re held open by two free hands and you have to lie there and take it.

“‘M cumming,” you gasp, tension bursting inside you, pussy contracting around Carlos’ digits. You squeeze at their bulges again, wishing you had the coherency to undo the buttons and the zips. They get the message, undoing their jeans just enough to pull out their cocks.

“Wanna suck you off,” you say, turning to Charles. Shyly, you add, “Both of you.”

The only way to do that is by kneeling on the limited floor space of the car. There’s not much space, and you shuffle around a few times, but eventually you find a position, legs folded and on your knees, in between the two of them.

They’re both looking down at you with dark eyes and devious, teasing grins that feel downright evil, hands wrapped loosely around their cocks. They jack themselves off a few times, and you hoist yourself up higher to watch closely, brows furrowed.

“Open your mouth,” Carlos says sharply, tone low and rushed. You obey, sticking your tongue out, and watch as he rubs the precum off his tip and onto your tongue. He laughs, looking at your boyfriend. “Look at that. Like that?”

“Yea,” you mutter, turning a bit to let your boyfriend to the same, letting your spit drip down from the tip so the glide is easier. He slaps your cheek with it, laughs at the way you pout, and advises Carlos to do the same. You turn again, taking Carlos into your mouth until he’s prodding at the back of your throat and it’s wet all over.

They love seeing you like this—with their precum being smeared al over your shiny, spit-covered cheeks and lips, tongue peeking out to get a taste every time they drag their cocks closer to your mouth. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“Sucks dick like she was made for it,” Carlos says, punctuating his sentence with a quip in Italian. They both laugh as you gag around Charles’ dick, jerking Carlos off messily. You’re choking, precum coating the back of your throat and wrist wearing out.

“You look so pretty, baby.” Your boyfriend says, grunting with pleasure.

“Pretty lips, too, yeah?” Carlos says, his hand shadowing yours and making you jack him off faster.

“She can’t reply, Carlos. Too busy gagging on my dick,” Charles says, and your eyes well up with embarrassment that you’ve basically soaked through your panties from their words alone. You want them to cum, cover your lips and eyelashes with them so you can scoop it off and let them watch you swallow it. Be good for them, their good girl.

But they never like cumming if it’s not in you, or after they’ve been in you, so you anticipate the way you’re guided off your boyfriend’s cock by your hair. They tug your head backwards, a bit on the edge of roughly, exposing the column of your throat, littered with spit and lovebites.

Your pussy is getting wetter, dripping through your panties and onto your legs folded underneath. It’s the first thing they inspect when they heave you back into the middle of the backseat, bent over Carlos’ lap so your ass is on full display for Charles and, if he cranes his head, Carlos, too.

It’s humiliating. Your mind’s so hazy you can barely tell whose hands are whose, groping at your ass, pulling away the lace to reveal your puffy, wet cunt and letting the thin strip of fabric snap back to make you yelp. Two fingers push into you, going fast instantly until you’re sobbing for them to slow down. It’s Charles. You can tell because you feel the metal of his rings.

There’s a third at that point, stretching you out further, getting you even wetter and more desperate. You cum easily, overstimulated, tears rolling down your spit-streaked face as you quiver with it, blinking them away as you’re guided back into the middle. They maneuver themselves so they’re facing each other, your pussy right above Carlos’ tip, which is just beside your boyfriend’s.

You’re itching to sit yourself down, feel the familiar stretch of his dick, big and barely fitting when he stuffs himself inside you. It’s addictive. But there’s something Charles wants to do first, evident because he’s not yet letting you ride Carlos, his big hands bruising at your hips. “We’ve done enough to your pretty pussy, haven’t we? Your lips, too, that cute mouth.” He coos, almost. “But there’s something we haven’t even touched tonight, baby.”

Carlos’ hands spread your cheeks apart and Charles’ spit-soaked thumb rubs over your tight hole, causing you to shiver. Oh, God. You squirm above their laps, heart beating with nerves and arousal, pussy rubbing over the tips of their dicks as you go. “I’m nervous,” you whimper.

“Aw, go give Carlos a kiss,” your boyfriend says, his voice teasing and goading. You lean forward, slotting your mouth onto Carlos’ soft lips, parting them with your tongue immediately. He gets you all needy when you kiss him, smiling and enjoying your mindless, needy little grinds. As you kiss him, messy with spit and tongues colliding, you feel fingers teasing you again.

You whimper, Carlos’ hands roughly pulling the low-cut top of your dress down to grope at your tits, roughing them up, flicking your nipples. You moan out loud, caught up in the multiple sensations; your boyfriend loosens you up until his finger goes deep, deeper, bottoming out and stretching your ass out.

He collects some of your slick to lube another finger up, stuffing two into your tiny little hole. You gasp with the new feeling, lips open against Carlos’, who wraps a hand around your throat to guide you into kissing him again. Distractions. Pleasure.

“Jesus, she’s tight,” Charles says, not addressing you at all.

“She’s being really good for me up here,” Carlos replies, squeezing your tits. “Taking everything I give her.”

“Give me more,” you beg, licking over his lips until he’s parting them to kiss you messily all over again. You’re unaware, lost in the numb pleasure and dull painful stretch, that there are three buried in your ass now. He should prep more, Charles figures, but he’s impatient, just wanting to wreck you already, fuck moans out of you until you’re crying.

He nudges the tip of his dick against your ass, slipping the head in and listening to your ohhh as he goes, groaning. It hurts, Charles, you whisper, but your whine is swallowed into a kiss. 

“Relax, baby,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Just relax.”

You’re so tight, squeezing him so, so tight as he bottoms out.

You’re clenching around him so hard he could cum, pump all his cum in you and watch it leak out. But he’s patient. He’s sweet. He lets Carlos finally coax his own cock up your cunt, where the glide’s easier, but the stretch now is unfathomable. You blink tears out of your eyes, ones of pain that slowly become unbelievable pleasure, moans spilling forth from your lips, slick gushing out of your puffy cunt.

Carlos thrusts upward, deep, and eventually Charles finds a rhythm too, your legs spread and eyes rolling back with how fast they’re slamming into you. You want to move, you want to avoid the pleasure from how overwhelming it is, the way it feels when they both bottom out at the same time ans you can feel the way your stomach bulges with Carlos’ cock.

“Slow down,�� you whine, but they only laugh, watching your face grow more sweaty and flushed and debauched.

“Feel good?” Charles asks. “Use your words, love.”

“S—so fucking good,” you say, words punched out of you thrust by thrust. Carlos leans forward, brings his flushed forehead just flush of yours, both of you bobbing in time with their thrusts, and spits messily into your half-open mouth. Most enters, some splatters over your lips, and your eyes darken with it. You’re certain you’ve cum again just from that.

“Swallow it,” he laughs. “Be a good slut.” His eyes break from yours and meet Charles’, and they exchange a few quips in Italian before your boyfriend’s hand is raking you backwards, leaning over and spitting again. He pushes your cheek around a little, laughing at your docile, fucked-out face.

“Swallow that now,” he says. “Both of them.”

Obediently, you shut your lips, your whimpers pausing as you swallow their spit down. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment.

“There you go,” Carlos says. You’re absolutely falling apart on their dicks, wet and messy and hot, your legs quivering with it. Carlos slams up harder, pressing your lips together again so he can feel your moans, hear your cute little voice saying Carlos please let me cum  right by his ear.

He pulls out, moving himself higher to use your mouth instead; the added space gives Charles the opportunity to fully bend you over, on your knees and too weak to use your elbows, face smushed against Carlos’ dick. You’re shaking, pussy still trembling and tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheek. You’re struggling to take his dick well, but Charles keeps fucking you, determined to finish.

He pushes you down so your back arches deeper, your lips parted around Carlos’ huge cock. “That’s right,” he groans. “Take it, come on, be a good girl for me.”  

“She’s so tight still,” he says to Carlos. The latter’s hand strokes over your hair, pulls at it, grips at either side of your throat so he can fuck your face properly. He fucks your throat hard, watches you cough and squirm around his spit-coated cock, his balls slapping your face every time he bottoms out. He’s close—Charles is close—and you’ve cum twice again now, pulling off and whimpering I’m cumming— before finishing, gushing release all over your thighs.

“It’s our turn now,” Charles orders. They pull you off at the same time, and you go on your knees again on the floor, gazing up at them with big eyes and a flushed, pretty face, lips pink and puffy from having just been fucked. 

You reach two hands up and jerk them both off again, both their hands guiding you to go faster, faster and faster until—

You flinch, the first hot spurt landing just on your cheek, then your lips, then a bit on your nose. Somewhere in between, Carlos presses his tip to your lips, coaxing them open so he can shoot cum on your tongue and chin. They lean back, collapsing onto the backseat, heaving sighs.

They both look down at you, your nasty, cum-coated face, smiling up at both of them. Carlos blinks a couple times and then smiles. “Hey, mind if I get a picture?”

[vintagelasvegas]

State Line Chevron & Bar, c. 1960s Whiskey Pete's restaurant, State Line (Primm), Nevada, 1983

 When U.S. Route 91 was established in the 1920s along the Nevada-California border, "Whiskey Pete" McIntyre opened the State Line service station. McIntyre was believed to be a bootlegger, he once shot a man at the station, spent time in a sanatorium, and was buried on the property when he died.

The property changed hands after McIntyre and was still just a gas station when it was bought by gaming pioneer Ernest Primm. Primm acquired 750 acres around the state border, some under the Federal Land Grant Act. He filed water rights with the Bureau of Land Management and tended barley fields on the property for three years to satisfy requirements for ownership.

Primm opened Whiskey Pete's in '77, a European castle-themed casino with a 12-room motel, and a coffee shop. A hotel tower was added in the 80s. The business passed on to son Gary, whose Primadonna Resorts (aka Primm Valley Resorts) opened Primadonna and Buffalo Bill’s casinos in the 90s.

The exact location of Whiskey Pete's burial had been lost. Workers grading a railroad track linking the resorts in '94 accidentally uncovered his coffin and remains.

"The tractor caught the edge of the box and the skull popped out," said the project manager Bruce Sedlacek. "There was Whiskey Pete staring at us."

The legend of Whiskey Pete says that on his deathbed Pete made a request: "Bury me up on the hill, standing up facing the valley so I can see all those sons of bitches goin' by." Sedlacek said the coffin was about 80 percent intact and buried at an angle to the highway, rather than "standing up." The remains were moved to another burial site on the property.

The name "State Line" was commonly used, but never an official designation. (Elsewhere in Nevada, “Stateline” in Douglas County had already a designated place for decades.) Board members for Primadonna Resorts Inc. lobbied the Nevada State Board of Geographical Names, and the U.S. Board, to change the name of the area to Primm. It officially became Primm on 10/10/96.

Postcard & photo from Felix Lenox, Nevada Armored Transport. Photo below, 2001, by Jeff Green.

“I remember as a kid visiting Whiskey Pete's grave site up on the hill. That would have been in the late '40s. A few of the old timers attended his burial. Many were railroaders and 31 Club. They would get together on Sunday for a drive and picnic. That would have been one of them. Whiskey Pete was a Bootlegger, no doubt about that. Some of the old time railroaders dropped whiskey off to him. They referred to the Federal Agents as ‘Pro Hi's.’” - Charles Musser to Vintage Las Vegas, 12/20/2024.

Note: Las Vegas Post 8 of the American Legion formed the "31 Club" circa '51, comprised of members who had lived in Las Vegas since '31 or prior.

Below: Unverified photo of Whiskey Pete's grave site, posted by Bill and Eileen to Findagrave.com on 11/08/2011.

Sources include: Whiskey Pete McIntyre faces charge. Review-Journal, 3/26/31; Whiskey Pete Is Freed of Insanity Count. Review-Journal, 10/15/32; Whiskey Pete Can Stand in Grave in Peace. Review-Journal, 2/10/41; Strip City Between Here, Los Angeles is Proposed. Review-Journal, 3/31/54; R. Cornett. Duel in the desert just a family feud. Review-Journal, 9/16/84 p1; D. Palermo. Remains of Whiskey Pete Found. Review-Journal, 2/5/94; Primadonna Resorts, Inc. and subsidiaries. SEC.; Ed Vogel. Primm is prime candidate for State Line name. Review-Journal, 1/18/96; John. L. Smith. Company calls Primm a proper name for State Line. Review-Journal, 1/19/96; Ed Vogel. Primm finally proper. Review-Journal, 10/11/96; Don Catlin. The Lottery Book: The Truth Behind the Numbers. Bonus Books, 2003; L. Benston. Primm's Lure: Freebies. Las Vegas Sun, 7/2/2009.

Updated 12/20/2024

[kathlare]

fuck papaya rules

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando struggles with the aftermath of a heartbreaking race at the Italian Grand Prix, feeling betrayed by his own team and frustrated by his lost opportunity.

Wordcount: 1.6 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

September 1st, 2024 - Monza, Italy

The Monza paddock was electric. The Italian Grand Prix had just ended, and while the Tifosi roared their approval for Charles Leclerc’s victory, the McLaren garage was a mix of silent tension and forced smiles. Lando Norris, who had started from pole position, sat slumped in his driver’s room, his race suit still on, his head buried in his hands.

He had it. Victory was within his grasp. But instead, he’d been boxed out by his teammate, Oscar Piastri, on the opening lap, both of them losing crucial time as they fought each other. Charles had taken full advantage, slipping past while Lando and Oscar scrambled to recover.

To make matters worse, the team had called over the radio, "Papaya Rules", granting both drivers freedom to race. Freedom, Lando thought bitterly, to screw up his shot at the championship.

A knock on the door broke his thoughts. His engineer peeked inside cautiously.

—Lando, team debrief in five minutes.—

—Fuck off.— His voice was low and cold, a far cry from his usual joking tone. The engineer retreated, leaving him alone in the quiet room.

As he stripped off his race suit and grabbed his phone, he felt the weight of frustration crush him. Five missed calls to Amelie. She wasn’t answering.

He sighed, dropping onto the bed in his hotel room later that night. His thumbs hovered over his phone screen, debating whether to send another message or let it go. Instead, his frustration boiled over.

Lan🧡: Call me. Please.

He shot off the text and tossed his phone onto the nightstand.

Hours later, Amelie stepped out of her trailer on set, her phone in hand. The midday sun beat down as she squinted at the screen, her heart sinking at the five missed calls and a slew of texts from Lando.

Lan🧡: Can you call me? Amelie, I need to talk to you. What the fuck is wrong with this team? Please call when you’re free.

Her stomach tightened. Something was wrong. Grabbing a water bottle, she stepped into a quieter corner of the lot and called him.

He answered, his voice still tight with frustration. —Amelie.

—Hey, what happened? I saw your texts and calls, and you sound… I don’t know, mad? Are you okay?— Her voice was calm, soothing, even though Lando could tell she was still in work mode.

Lando let out a bitter laugh. —Oh, I’m fucking fantastic, babe. You know, just lost a race I should’ve won. Just watched my own fucking team throw me under the bus for the sake of... "fairness."—

—Lando... what are you talking about?—

—Monza. Pole position. I had it, Amelie. I fucking had it. But Oscar, goddamn Oscar, decided it was his turn to play hero. We’re fighting on Lap One, Charles flies past, and then the team tells me, "Papaya Rules." Can you believe that shit? They let us fight, even though I’m the one with a shot at the title. Oscar’s out of the fucking running! Why even risk it?—

Amelie stayed quiet, letting him vent. She could hear the anger and hurt in his voice, the cracks where frustration met vulnerability.

—You should’ve heard me in the debrief,— he continued, his voice louder now. —I called them out. Told them they were sabotaging me. They didn’t care. They just smiled and said, "It’s racing." Racing, my ass. It’s politics. That’s what it fucking is.—

Amelie closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words. She knew he was upset, but hearing him so raw, so hurt, made her heart ache for him. She had been in situations where things didn’t go as planned, but this—this sounded like something deeper, something that touched the core of what he had worked for.

—Lando, listen to me.— She spoke softly, trying to calm the storm she could feel swirling in his voice. —I get it. I know how much this means to you. But... babe, you need to breathe. I know it's frustrating, but yelling at your team isn’t going to make them change what happened today. You did your best. You had pole. But sometimes... racing is just out of our control. It’s not always the way we want it.—

He let out a frustrated grunt. —I don't need a fucking lecture right now, Amelie. I just want to scream. I’ve worked my ass off for this title, and they just handed it to Charles on a silver platter. And Oscar? He’s not even close to being in the title race. He had no business getting in my way. And the team? They don’t give a shit. They just care about keeping it “fair” while I'm here fighting for the championship!—

—Lando... I’m not lecturing you.— Amelie’s voice was firm, but her heart was soft. —I know you're pissed off. I know you're hurt. And you have every right to feel that way. I would be too. But you need to calm down, okay? For yourself. I know you want to win, but this isn’t the end of the world. You’ll have more chances. You're still in the fight. It's just one race.—

Lando was silent for a beat. He knew she was right. She always was. But it didn’t make it any easier. —I just don’t know what to do anymore, Amelie. It’s like I’m stuck in this endless loop. I fight for every inch, and then something like this happens, and I feel like I’m getting nowhere.—

—Hey, listen.— Amelie softened her tone even more. —You’re not getting nowhere. You’re doing incredible things. You’ve worked so hard to get here. And you will get to the top. You have the talent, the skill. This is just a setback. You’ll bounce back from it. I believe in you.—

Lando felt a tightness in his chest. Hearing her speak to him like this, it reminded him of how much he relied on her. She had always been his rock, even when he didn’t realize it. —I just... I wish you were here. I could really use you right now. I’m going crazy in this hotel room, all by myself.—

Amelie’s heart softened at his words. She knew how much he was struggling, how hard it was for him to process everything. The pressure, the frustration—everything was hitting him at once. She wished she could be there with him, to comfort him, to help him find some peace in the chaos of his mind.

—I know, baby. I wish I could be there too.— Her voice was gentle but steady. —I really do. But I’m filming right now, you know how it is. It's not easy to get away.—

Lando’s voice cracked a little, still tinged with frustration. —I know, I know... It’s just, sometimes it feels like everything’s against me, you know? Like, I can’t catch a fucking break.—

—It feels like that sometimes. I get it. But listen to me, you are not alone in this. We’re in this together, even when we’re not in the same place. And I know you feel like you’re fighting a battle on your own, but you're not. I’m right here, Lando. You’ve got me. Always.—

Lando exhaled slowly, trying to take in her words, trying to let them calm the storm inside him. —I miss you so much, Amelie. I hate that we’re not together right now. It feels like everything’s better when you’re around. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without you.—

—You’ll get through it, I promise. And we’ll see each other soon. Just hang in there, okay? And when I get back, we’ll talk. We’ll figure things out.— She smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it, as she thought of their future plans. —Besides, I heard you’re off to Portugal with Max and Pietra next week.—

Lando let out a small chuckle, his mood lightening a bit at the mention of the trip. —Yeah, I know, I’m going to miss you. I thought you’d be there with us, but it’ll just be me, Max, and Pietra. Gonna be a weird vibe without you. But hey, I’m sure they’ll keep me entertained.—

Amelie laughed softly, teasing him. —Max will probably keep you occupied with his non-stop talking, and Pietra might just force you into a full-on workout routine. I can already picture it. You’re gonna need a vacation from your vacation.—

Lando smirked, though the tension still hadn’t fully left him. —Maybe. But I’d rather be with you. It’s just not the same without you. Maybe after your tour, we can plan a real trip, just us. Somewhere quiet, far away from all the racing shit. Somewhere we can actually relax and enjoy ourselves.—

Amelie’s heart fluttered at the thought. She loved how they could talk about everything and nothing at the same time, how they could dream together even when life was hectic. —I’d love that. I think we both need it. We’ll make it happen, I promise.—

But then, just as the moment felt like it was settling, Amelie heard a voice from behind her. —Amelie, we need you on set in five minutes.—

She sighed, reluctant to end the call but knowing she had no choice. —I’ve gotta go, babe. They’re calling me back to set. But I’ll be thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.—

Lando groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. —I know, I know. I’ll be okay. I just needed to hear your voice. Thanks for helping me calm down. You’re the best.—

—Anytime, Lando. I’ll call you when I can, okay? Just... don’t go breaking anything, alright?— She tried to keep it light, knowing that his mood was still delicate.

—Ha, very funny. I’ll try to keep it together. But seriously, Amelie... I love you.—

She smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection. —I love you too. So much. Hang in there, alright? We’ll talk soon. Promise.—

As she hung up the phone and walked back to the set, Amelie couldn’t help but feel a mixture of emotions. She hated that Lando was going through this, that his race had been ruined by circumstances beyond his control. But she was proud of him for being strong, for fighting for his chance at the title.

And she couldn’t wait for the day when they could finally be together again, away from the chaos of their separate worlds. But for now, all she could do was send him love, support, and the reminder that he wasn’t alone.

[woolly-aph1d]

I don't know if it's canon, but i wholeheartedly believe that Erik removing the bullet out of Charles is what caused him to be disabled.

The (assumed) fact that Erik's care and love would be THE reason is crushing, and ironic, and it reflects his modus operandi so so well.

That's because Erik is a man who wants to rip the proverbial bandaid off. He sees the issue (or what he believes to be an issue) and eliminates it.

Bullet was in, and it was the cause of pain. So he removed it. He "got rid of the issue". Simple as that.

Wrong.

In that moment, he redacted all control he had over the missiles, putting his everything into removing the bullet that was hurting Charles. He put his all in hope that he will save him from more pain or even death. But it doesn't matter how focused or serene he was, how deeply inside he reached for the ability to not fall apart where Charles fell and instead redirect himself into a saviour. And it didn't matter whether in that moment, in all his body and mind, he felt that all of his training was for that exact moment. It never mattered and it never will matter because however careful and precise he was, he was not about to succesfully remove a bullet from a spine without any prior anatomical knowledge or skillset in the field. Erik's love and desperation in manouvering the bullet out was disastrous, no matter how sugar-coated with care it was. (but he doesn't know that, no)

But the bullet was not alone, it had a source.

He sees Moira, "You. You did this" he stated before trying to suffocate her. She was the one who shot at him, after all. She was holding the gun - the physical weapon and he saw her as guilty. He was the judge, he was about to be the executioner.

"She didn't do this Erik. You did"

It hung in the air like a giant stop sign.

But Erik is the bullet, and he is in control of himself just as he was in control of it mere moment before it hit Charles. He can only change direction, never stop. At least not before he hurts someone, most likely someone he loves (and maybe not even then).

He shifts in his route, no less doomed than the previous one; he is searching for unity. "We are brothers" he believes, he also believes that "us turning on each other, it's what THEY want". And it doesn't matter who he means by "them" either, any would be good if it would align their paths. But just like in that deleted scene in the empty corridors their eyes meet, each of them knowing they were trying to reach the other briefly before turning around, neither of them willing or able to join paths, only to cross. Charles wants to be Erik's "friend" while Erik searches for an ally. Charles is the home and Erik is the battlefield. Its the status quo they cannot break out of.

Charles, no matter how daft and out of touch he is, stated the truth; "they were only following orders" and Erik knew that. He heard it before. He felt it before. He lived through it. Survived it.

He was not about to follow anybody's orders ever. He was his own man, ruled by his own emotions. Same emotions that took a hold of the bullet. Same disobedience and lack of order that took Charles' legs.

Its the modus operandi, that's the source of it all.

He will take what he sees for granted, and eliminate what he sees. Sometimes its a bullet, sometimes its humanity. Or all humans, because he felt a lack of humanity from them. He doesn't see his own reflection in Charles' eyes. He cannot see his own faults.

In front of him, he sees the big picture just right, but the devil hides in the details. Sometimes what ruins the system isn't a bullet lodged into it. Sometimes issues are internal and you can't rid of them.

Mystique is a proof of Erik's faults as much as Charles'. She is what destroys the ideal and points out the inevitable. Its the internalised phobia and hatered we see throughout the movie. Getting rid of humans isn't what makes it go away. It becomes the microsegregation of palatable and non-palatable mutations within the mutant group. Erik and Charles being privileged and shown time and time again manufacturing a standard for Raven to meet, without once allowing her a safe space to decide who she wants to be - who she chooses as her most authentic self. And Raven becomes a source of hurt and discrimination herself as she abandons her child for being outwardly mutant in appearance, because she can be privileged too, if she so wishes.

Erik will not save the world, nor mutants. He will not destroy, or turn it into ashes either. It will be the same movie with different cast. Same world with different faults for Erik to see.

Erik and Charles are on the edges of a society that has to accomodate truth and find respect, but neither of them give us the resolution. Maybe because neither of us know how to save our own world either.

If you were able to spend time reading me tripping over ideas and words, you have time to interact and maybe even donate to Farah who is in great need of aid in order to get basic necessities and save up to evacuate from Gaza in order to escape the ongoing massacre caused by Israel.

Please donate and help a person in need through this link,

https://gofund.me/3523e2a7

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

I KINDA HAD THE SAME IDEA with the low honor high honor thing! Im currently figuring exactly in what way the story would change [granted it does involve one of my ocs so maybe a lot more than it should] but its fun to think in what way Micah would be 'better' or more loyal to the gang

I feel like he'd still pick fights in camp, but like in a way older siblings would. Its more teasing/bullying and shit instead of straight up slurs. Idk, might just be me NNXJXJC

I also think he wouldn't go out of his way to help someone if they asked him to, but he'd watch them continue to struggle with mayne like a gun to the point where he like has to get up and be like 'OKAY you are so pathetically shit at this - im going to show you how to do this and we're not taking a break until you shoot 3 targets in a row' or something

I dont think he'd willingly be vulnerable anytime soon based on his upbringing and shit, but iiii like to think it happens sometimes accidentally idk JXJXJC

Weep weep weep this is making me wanna explore what RDR2 would be like if Micah was a marginally better person (mainly what id he never ratted).

i am glad we have converging ideas when it comes to high honor micah! I’ve talked with mutuals before on wtf micah could do that could be considered high honor, and we came up with little. One idea i suggested is that he accidentally saved people)s lives through his own selfishness (ex: saves someone from rabid dog because “if i didnt kill it, it would have gone for me next.”)

Micah's high honor is selfish in a unique way compared to low honor. Instead of focusing on himself and his survival, it more becomes a common goal to keep the gang as a whole surviving. He is no hunter, but he can bring in money and be a daaaaaamn good shot. Guard duties are often reserved for Lenny and Sean and Charles and whoever else is free. Micah *can* go on guard duty but keeps himself out of that tiresome job by being out of camp and bringing in money. “Sorry, can’t got on guard duty, I just got back from a stage coach robbery and I want to enjoy my well deserved relaxation.”

he is still a snarky sounding piece of shit, but like you said, he is less of a full on hateful man. He is still a sly, observing snake and studies the flaws of his gang mates, but he keeps his fangs sheethed. The idea with the snake animal for high honor is that Micah is still as lethal and capable of assholery as he is in bad honor, he is just deciding to not. He holds his venom to be inflicted on those who the gang need (or want) dead. He also leans into the snake vibes by being a slimy slithering manipulator. He isn’t a charmer, but he has a skill for talking people long enough to get plans into action (or to just backstab the enemy).

i feel like Morgan would still dislike Micah for being a man with bad vibes. Morgan is also just a hater sometimes (look at how he perceives Kieran). Micah still murders and has bad plans like Blackwater so it’s not like Arthur has *no* reason to distrust Micah.

i imagine high honor micah makes an effort on occasion to be involved in camp socializing, Sean and Jack’s return for example. He mainly drinks and flirts with the girls and boys at the event.

and because i like the red vs blue honor color association of the game, Micah’s design would be a little different, making the blue in his design a little more present. A neckerchief is an example of blue, but i am sure more blue could be worked into his design somewhere. Idea is that the ratio of red to blue in character’s designs can allude to how honorable they are (though it is not a 1:1 visualization). I imagine Micah would be 1:3 blue to red. Maayyybe. One quarter an okay man, three quarters a pretty sleazy man.

micah is still deeply troubled soooo no sweetie pie vulnerability for him! At most he tries to flirt (like asking Mary-Beth to dance) and the people are 1-2% more polite about turning him down when he’s high honor. He’s still all alone and his prickly exterior deeps people at arms length from him. He is both deeply dependent on attaching himself to a gang/someone to follow (my hc), but he also aspires to be independent and run his own gang. I suppose in high honor, he hopes to earnestly stick with the VDL gang and rise in the ranks by impressing Dutch (because Dutch is kind of an easy man to impress when you bootlick).

[mask131]

So you want to know about Oz! (1)

Then congratulations! Welcome to this quick crash course to know everything about the world of Oz! The movies, the adaptations, the musicals, the books! Yes, books, with an S, because "The Wizard of Oz" everybody knows and love was just the first book of an entire BOOK SERIES that became the enormous franchise we know today! You thought there was just ONE Wizard of Oz movie? Think again! You thought "Wicked" was the only work that gave a backstory to the Witches? Get ready for some discoveries!

And so we begin our journey to the wonderful land of Oz...

The story of Oz begins with one novel. No, not one movie - but the novel that caused the movie... L. Frank Baum's "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz"

Published in 1900, this children novel is still to this day one of the most famous works of American youth literature, as well as the master-piece of Baum, THE book everybody knows he wrote. Baum intended, with this book, to create a purely American fairy tale: he wanted to rival the European tales of Charles Perrault, the brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen - and he succeeded! The novel was a best-seller as soon as it was released, and is still considered as "America's greatest fairy-tale".

Most people know of "The Wizard of Oz" through its famous adaptation, the 1939 musical movie. While these two works do share a same set of main characters and a similar plot, the novel contains many, many details that were not adapted into the movie ; and, in return, the movie brought a lot of elements that were absent from the novel. Both, however, are still the story of a little girl by the name of Dorothy (she wasn't yet named "Gale") and her dog Toto, who are swept up into a tornado and taken to the magical Land of Oz. There she meets three comical companions (the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion), and together they go seek the Wizard of Oz in hope he can grant their wishes, only to have to escape from the clutches of the Wicked Witch of the West...

If you want to read the original novel, it will be very easy! Not only is it still regularly printed today, with various anniversary editions ; but it is in public domain since the 1950s! So you can go read it for free right now, without any problems!

Most people tend to stop at just this book... Not wondering if there was any sequel, treating it as if this was just a one-shot. Except, we told you, this book was a best-seller! An ENORMOUS success! Never before had a children's book brought so much money in the United-States! As such, Baum was not going to just stop there...

While he did intent "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" to be a self-contained novel existing as its own thing, in 1904 he published a sequel "The Marvelous Land of Oz":

This novel does not follow Dorothy however, but rather a very different character... A little boy who lives in the Land of Oz post-Dorothy: Tip (short for Tippetarius), an orphan boy who escapes the clutches of his wicked witch of a caretaker alongside a pumpkin-headed scarecrow he just brought to life. And the two undergo a journey to the Emerald City ruled by the Scarecrow-king, only to get swept into a revolution...

This novel was conceived in a similar way to the first one, as a "self-contained" story. While it does take place after the events of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", reuses several of the same characters (The Scarecrow and the Tin Man are part of the main party, Glinda plays a key part in the final act) and briefly recaps the events of the first novel, it can still be read on its own. This novel especially get a lot of attention today (after decades and decades of falling into pur oblivion) due to its fantasy-dissection of the topics of genders - differences between men and women, boys and girls, unfairness and injustice among sexes (the revolution in question is a "girl revolution" seeking to destroy what is perceived as a misogynistic patriarchy)... All culminating with what is still to this day one of the most famous accidental depictions of a trans character in fantasy!

But I'll return to this all in a later post, possibly...

This novel was ALSO a best-seller and a huge success. And as such... you know what that means. Yes, Baum wrote a THIRD book taking place in Oz! Well, almost... The novel actually mostly takes place in lands neighbors to those of Oz, the land of Ev and the realm of the Nome King... But all the Oz characters return - including Dorothy, who is again swept away into fairy-lands, this time not with her dog Toto, but with a pet chicken Billina.

This story is the novel "Ozma of Oz", published in 1907:

And with these three books, you have the original Oz trilogy!

"But wait, there were other Oz books, weren't there?" you ask. Oh yes, there were more books, indeed! However, I want to stop at this point because these three books do form a specific trilogy for various reasons. The trilogy of the "good" Oz books before everything went... let's say downhill (but more about that next post). But more importantly, the trilogy of Oz books most people know about!

Indeed, even if you have never read "The Marvelous Land of Oz" or "Ozma of Oz", you probably came across various elements of these books, that are regularly scattered throughout Oz adaptations and novels. For example the famous Disney movie "Return to Oz" is mostly an adaptation of "Ozma of Oz", but with numerous elements of "The Marvelous Land of Oz" added to the plot

More recently, the trilogy also formed the basis of the new plot offered by the short-lived TV series "Emerald City"!

Langwidere the princess with a hundred heads, Mombi the witch, Ozma the princess of Oz, the Nome king, Tik-Tok the automaton, Jack Pumpkinhead, general Jinjur, the land of Ev, the Powder of Life and many other names and concepts you might be familiar with come from these two direct sequels to "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz". Sequels which unfortunately never knew the lasting popularity of their predecessor, despite being just as famous, if not more, in their time...

Next post: Baum's downfall...

[ferrstappen]

Taylor Swift l The Collection

this is the masterlist for a series of one shots, scenarios that have come up while listening to different Taylor Swifts albums, with different drivers from the grid <3

Back to December l Charles Leclerc

and I think about summer, all the beautiful times, I watched you laughing from the passenger side.

summary: she cursed herself every day for being scared of falling for him, because he wasn't afraid of loving her.

You Belong With Me l George Russell

if you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me.

summary: she had the worst luck because her best friend was a serial dater, but she knows him better than any of his girlfriends, and she needs him to know.

august l Lando Norris

wanting was enough, for me it was enough.

summary: every single one of her friends warned her that he was fresh out of a relationship. his friends whispered that he had been so in love just a couple of weeks ago and now he was holding hands with someone else. but she didn't care.

Enchanted l Lance Stroll

this night is sparkling, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck blushing all the way home

summary: forced small talk, tiny pieces of fancy finger food, and long flutes of champagne, but after they saw each other... small talk became a little bigger, laughter falling a bit more freely.

Ours l Max Verstappen

so don't you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine.

summary: he was always in the eye of the hurricane; some days because of his talents, others because of his character, but it didn't matter when he got home and walked holding her hand.

Girl At Home l Daniel Ricciardo

don't look at me, you got a girl at home and everybody knows that.

summary: she knew he had someone back in Australia waiting for him. but she was so far away, and he needed to be comforted, now.

Begin Again l Pierre Gasly

he didn't like it when I wore high heels, but I do.

summary: she was used to the bare minimum, maybe even a little less than that. and then he came in, waiting for her to order first during their first date.

Long Live l Esteban Ocon

of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines, wishing for right now.

summary: Esteban Ocon (aka the biggest Spiderman fan, according to himself) tried to bribe his girlfriend, gave her the silent treatment, he called her out during race weekends, but Marvel was just too good keeping their secrets. (actress!reader)

False God l Carlos Sainz Jr.

but we might just get away with it.

summary: it was just the third race of the calendar when he walked inside her hotel room, telling her that they could try it... and HR would never know.

Speak Now l Max Verstappen

fond gestures are exchanged, and the organ starts to play a song that sounds like a death march.

summary: His mind was spinning. Get up, sit down! Speak up, shut up! You already lost her, you broke up with her! Nobody would've guessed everything that was going on inside Max's head as he watched her put on her white dress.

Sparks Fly l Charles Leclerc

give me something that will haunt me when you're not around

summary: she liked telling people that she was done with love, but shit... his green eyes made her want to jump into his arms and love him to the best of her ability.

Happiness l Charles Leclerc

there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you.

summary: they were going to be fine, relationships come to an end eventually... but he was focused on his job, and she was watching him through the screen.

illicit affairs l Carlos Sainz Jr.

and you know damn well, for you I'd ruin myself.

summary: it wasn't fair that he made her fall in love with him, not when he took her heart for granted and his heart started beating for some other girl.

[annetictac]

As you wish CL16

Summary: Charlie helps you out when batteries run out. One - shot.

Warnings: smut below.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything F1 or CL related, this fic is for fun!

It was silly really.

She’d been so frustrated, so sexually deprived that she had run to her room not locking the door. Then her trusted companion, the little bullet vibrator that could get her off under 5 minutes had decided enough was enough and it slowly died on her before giving her release.

She really had to begin reading all those mediating, calming books she had piled next to her bed. She’d been so annoyed by the timing of the bullet demise that she had thrown it to the wall, hitting a lamp, making it break and fall loudly on the floor. And also, the quick unplanned movement - from her unstable one leg up position, dress wrinkled up, panties still hanging from the upper leg - had finished to unbalance her making her also fall loudly.

It had taken less than a minute for Charles to barge in, without knocking of course.

“Are you ok?” he’d asked, his lovely innocent green eyes looking for any sign of harm quickly before they jumped to look to the ceiling once he realized her panties – black lace, he noticed – were not on. They both had the decency to blush wildly.

“I – I-“ she began stammering, quickly closing her legs and pulling her panties up. And before she could think further. “Sorry, my vibrator broke and I threw it against the wall, bad aim, bad-”

“It broke?” he interrupted, his eyes meeting hers again, still a little blush remaining over his cheeks. She blushed furiously.

“Not like that! Batteries run out,” she stood, smoothing the flowy fabric of her skirt to cover what it could of her upper legs. She noticed Charles’ pretty eyes followed her hands in movement.

“Did you at least get off?” he dropped without thinking, keeping the red on her cheeks.

“N-no,” she mumbled, brushing her hair behind her ears. “Hence, the violence…”

“Do you want me to help?”  

She blamed their sheer bluntness on the ridiculousness of their situation. They were friends. The’d been friends for a long time and not once had he given her any sign that he regarded her as anything but. In fact, every time someone would confuse her for his inexistent sister, he would always avoid to deny it.

She stood there for what felt like hours, but was probably a couple of seconds and it wasn’t until she saw him physically give a step back that something snapped her into action.

“Sure!”

It was unclear to know if they both felt the need to act so quickly before the bravado ran out. Both met in the middle before Charles grabbed the ends of her dress, his fingertips brushing her legs slightly. Giving her shivers and heating her centre surprisingly quickly.

“I-“ Before he could say anything, her hands went quickly to grab his neck and she helped her self on her tips to kiss him. Bless him for his quick reaction times. In less than a second his big hands grabbed her naked ass from under her dress to flush her against him. “Fuck…” he muttered against her neck as he dropped wet kisses and licks around her collarbone.

“Fuck…” she agreed nodding slightly as she leaned her neck back to grant him access. She thanked the makers of her dress for buttons that opened too easily as he pressed down and down into her chest. She sighed when he sat bringing her into his lap, putting pressure to the apex of her long legs. She rolled her hips brushing her pussy against the costures of his jeans. Frustration beginning to build.

And then nothing. He felt his strong arms pushing her away from where she wanted him.

“Patience, love,” he muttered as he finished taking her dress off, pushed completely away her soaking panties. She didn’t wait for him to open her bra’s lock, quickly discarding it on the floor. His hands had been grabbing her ass cheeks, probably leaving red marks in their wake. He paused, taking her in and slowly closing his eyes, he gave her a kiss over her belly button, his fingers moving forward ‘til they found her folds. She hissed, her hand jumping to his strong neck.

“Charlie,” she whispered in awe as her eyes slipped closed, she leaned her weight into his knees as she stood in front of him as he explored her softly. “I’m going to need way more than a finger to come, darling,” she muttered, her fingers threading into his brown locks, nails scratching him, as he entered further in his exploratory index and took it out completely. She opened her eyes confused to watch him suck his own finger.

“I’m going to need you to lay down,” he instructed, sucking again on his finger. That image would be on her top three she would need in the future to touch herself. He smirked and didn’t wait for her to move, he pushed her into bed, as he laid on his side, mouth near hers. “If I’d known you tasted this good, I would have barged into your room a lot sooner…” he whispered, making her flush again, as he returned his finger into position and placed a second one as his thumb lazily toyed with her clit. She sighed in content, as he picked up the pace. “Tell me how you want me love,” he kissed her lower jaw, his fingers not loosing pace. She looked at him, her eyes drawn into his pretty lips. Her thoughts must have showed because he grinned widely. “As you wish,” he said giving her a quick peck before changing positions, opening her legs, raising one over his shoulders. Fuck his shoulders. She felt the first wave of her orgasm arriving when his tongue began dancing over her clit. It took her little to crash but instead of stopping he slowed his space and rode her wave with her.

Once he felt her relaxing, he picked up the pace until she reached a second one too easily. When she was younger she would have been embarrassed, now she knew better. She sighed his name, moaned and pushed her feet ‘til his shoulders. She could swear she felt him grinning as he continued to leak her climax away.

“Charlie,” she called lazily as she felt herself relax for the second time. She pushed his face away softly, rubbing her wetness from his lips with her thumb. He climbed ‘til he was on top of her before kissing her sloppily. It was then she noticed he was unfairly fully dressed.

“You look so pretty like this, love,” he mumbled into her lips. “So pretty,” he repeated as his hand held her jaw before kissing her fully. She felt her belly filling with butterflies while she returned his kiss with enthusiasm. She felt the tension in his jeans but before she could release him, he said. “I would have offered to find you batteries sooner,” he mumbled to her lips. She frowned confused.

“What?” He blinked at her confusion.

“I was offering to help you find new batteries for your toy,” he explained. She flushed red in embarrassment and she was tempted to flee in shame but his strong arms held her in place. “I think I liked your idea of help much better than mine!”

[gorbalsvampire]

we only come out at night (v:tm city meta, 3/?)

Published World of Darkness material is of... varying usefulness, when you put your city together. Sometimes, your city will have a By Night sourcebook, and a lot of top down design will be done for you, but you'll have to build up from your PCs to do that. Sometimes, your city will have a paragraph or page in something else: you'll know that the Prince of Manchester is named Charles Shawlands, is a seventh generation Ventrue, and rules over a damp and gloomy domain that gets more attention from Changeling writers than Vampire ones.

And that's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it.

worked example: building your Prince

I usually start by rattling through the history of the city at surface level. looking for hooks. In this case: Manchester wasn't really a city that warranted a Prince or a Kindred population until the late eighteenth/early nineteenth century, so it's likely that the first Kindred to have settled there ended up Prince by default.

I wanted to roll with an older Prince than I had last time, due to game circumstances. I'm building Manchester for a one or at most two shot game for my sister-in-law and her husbando, and a chronicle for my D&D group, which includes a complete newcomer who's drifted in off LAbN. As such, I want a classic Prince; Ventrue, conservative, and old/powerful/authoritative enough to be scary, but not older than the Camarilla.

When I was looking around on the ol' Wikipedium, I found that Manchester had been a manorial township and, during the Interregnum, was seat to a major-general (a military governor) who achieved a lot for the Parliamentarian cause... but died young. And his name was Charles. He'll do.

So. Embraced 1656, possibly in London. Probably returned home after the Restoration, and squirrelled himself away as an isolated neonate in a backwater domain that abruptly grew a hundred years later, when our man was catapulted to praxis and did well enough at it.

worked example: choosing your Rack

When I studied in Manchester, on and off for three years, I spent a lot of time on Oxford Road. The top end of that fine, bustling, deathtrap-for-cyclists thoroughfare is home to the Gothic Victorian heartland of the University of Manchester, the sprawling postmodern village of Manchester Metropolitan, and the plate-glass elegance of the Royal Northern College of Music.

Where there are students, there is drinking, and underneath the elevated tracks and platform of Oxford Road station, you will find four boozers: the Thirsty Scholar, the Zombie Shack, the Salisbury and the Grand Central. It's an ideal spot for a thirsty Kindred to hang out at the start of a night.

Dead opposite, however, there's the magnificent Refuge Assurance Building, now home to a gallery, restaurant, florist, hotel (in the clocktower). Brick and terracotta, red as a scar, early Victorian grandeur. Architecture of heft and presence. Grade II listed. Room 261 and a back stairway of the hotel are said to be haunted (child ghosts and a suicidal widow). Screams Ventrue.

So, that's the Rack. I don't know if Shawlands resides up there himself, but his Keeper or Sheriff certainly do: some public official who's as high-and-mighty as the hoi polloi playables are ever likely to meet. Someone who needs to keep an eye on the feeding grounds over the road, and pull the occasional wayward little Kindred up for a chat. Maybe this Ventrue has a feeding restriction to do with scholars; maybe it's all a red herring.

Oxford Road doesn't appear on the map I assembled last week; it sits between the Gay Village and Castlefield, not a formal domain that's been granted to anyone, just there.

If I hadn't known about Manchester from first hand experience, I'd probably have started by looking at listed buildings, concentrations of night life, or specifically looking up the districts. Like, say...

worked example: making a domain

NOMA? Never heard of it. Oh, North Manchester. This is like BoJo or RiRi, isn't it? Something annoying invented by journalists, or something-in-marketings. The former Co-Operative buildings sit at the heart of a massive new development, centred on Angel Square, and its No. 1 building - a giant sliced egg shape in glass and steel.

There's a lot of money being ploughed into what was, when I first lived in Manchester, a run-down area (and I've stayed in some right shiteholes further north still). A few ideas suggest themselves for this area.

Second Inquisition (the sourcebook) pitches Gentrifiers as a hunter archetype, using redevelopments like this to undermine the general state of decay favoured by the Kindred. If my players want to go Anarch, it's tempting to site them on the top side of the city, and have their extant domains be whittled away by these Projects with Money behind them that are outside context problems for the Kindred as a whole.

Alternatively, we could give the Anarchs a leg up for a change; give them Angel Square as their crown jewel, a new domain for the new power, contrasting against the weathered Victorian establishment of the Camarilla in the south. They'd need a bankroll, of course. A Kindred of extraordinary wealth and dynamic vision. What has the Anarch movement recently gained that's lending these qualities as vital infrastructure? The Ministry. And a property developer Setite would be a nice change from the usual smut peddler nightclub owner writhing pliant yearning bodies blah blah blah get an imagination. Hubris, ambition, greed, even an element of the gambler's fallacy in investment. Angel Square - a new Eden, with the Serpents at its heart.

Do that for every district on the Central map, come up with either a single Kindred or a Coterie Type who's doing their thing in that domain, remember to leave space for the players...

... oh yeah, space for the players. Next time, we'll break out my handouts: the player packet and domain guides I like to assemble at the start of a chronicle.

[mapofyourstars]

chapter 3 posted for soulmates in every universe.

Destined to be together in every universe, Charles and Erik find their paths always intertwined by fate. Detailing all the ways they could meet, this collection of one-shots explores various soulmate tropes as they relate to Charles and Erik. In either canon or alternative universes, each chapter will be a new trope, some familiar with a different take on them and others not so frequently seen. This collection will be ongoing, so feel free to send or comment requests of soulmate tropes you’d like to see!

posted so far:

Chapter 1: Where everyone else has heartfelt and sweet tattoos of their soulmate’s first words to them, Erik has the most generic sentence ever; and he’s heard it more times than he can count from people who aren’t his soulmate. He almost thinks he’ll never meet his soulmate until one rainy afternoon day Emma drags him into a coffee shop. Chapter 2: Thirteen years prior to Charles and Erik meeting in X-Men: First Class, Charles and Erik crossed paths in Oxford, England, though neither of them realized it at the time until it was too late. Chapter 3: Soulmates will be tattooed with the most important sentence their partner ever said to them, but only after both soulmates uttered their sentences, which could happen days, months, or years apart. Erik and Charles assumed their love for each other was not reciprocated, as their soulmate tattoos had not appeared after months of discovering more about themselves and each other. Unbeknownst to them, fate decided to grant them their soulmate tattoos at a time when neither of them would see the tattoos appear on their skin.

[jovenshires]

the official iwks lore dump post

okay this is long-overdue but basically both @spencersagnew and @hoohoobeanie asked me to do a little lore dump for if we keep score and here it is!! this is not everything by far (some of what's missing will be covered in future fics and some im simply forgetting) but this is the basics for all the stuff i felt like i couldn't include but i had in my brain - ages, mascots for different schools, etc

THE AGES OF THE MAIN CAST:

st charles:

SENIORS: spencer, damien, shayne, brennan

JUNIORS: alex t, jeremy, patrick, ify

SOPHOMORES: rock and tim

FRESHMAN: marcus

our lady of perpetual sorrow:

SENIORS: tommy, keith, garrett

JUNIORS: alex a, luke, duran

SOPHOMORES: andre and greg

FRESHMEN: chanse, josh, peter

THE AGES OF THE MINOR CAST:

holy trinity (based on the try guys and second try):

SENIORS: zach (captain), keith (vc), kwesi, nick

JUNIORS: johnny, hughie, alex, jared

SOPHOMORES: miles and jonathan

FRESHMEN: jack

aquinas academy (based on dropout tv):

SENIORS: sam (captain), brennan (vc), josh, murph

JUNIORS: zac, grant, trapp

SOPHOMORES: raph and tao

FRESHMEN: lou and jacob

st. george's (based on mythical):

SENIORS: josh (captain), david hill (vc), carney, jordan, lucas

JUNIORS: chase, davin, matt lieb, pasley, zack

SOPHOMORES: trevor

MASCOTS:

st charles: cheetahs (chosen because it alliteratively went with st charles)

our lady of perpetual sorrow: pirates (chosen because it alliteratively went with perpetual)

holy trinity: triceratops (i meannn. when they have a mascot already i simply must)

aquinas: spoonbills (lil inside joke for brennan lee mulligan's love of birds and that one game changer ep where sam tortured brennan with birds)

st. george's: roosters (once again i feel like i had to. i almost went with 'beasts' but i think roosters makes more sense)

MOTTOS:

st charles: Dirige Nos In Fide - Guide Us In Faith. (i knew this one from the very start because i had the speech ian gives him in my head. where spencer has faith in his team and that's why ian chose him to lead them. guide us in faith!!!)

our lady of perpetual sorrow: Est Gaudium in Dolore - There is Joy in Pain. (honestly this is tommy bowe's personal motto to me. no but i picked it bc tommy persevered despite all that he suffered

holy trinity: Conare Iterum Conare - Try Try Again. (this one is pretty on the nose BUT they're all about giving it their best shot even when they're the underdogs!! when they get knocked down they get up again! ain't nothing gonna bring us down!)

aquinas: Virtus in Culpa - Strength in Fault (their students are really, really intelligent and like. the best of the best. but that's because aquinas, though it's a school for academic excellence, is very relaxed with consequences for failure. like there's a lot of support for students who are struggling academically or behaviorally. we are only as strong as our faults!!)

st. george's: Esto Tuus Optimus - Be Your Best Self (once again they had it right there. be your mythical best!)

WHY I CHOSE THE SCHOOL NAMES:

(ive posted this before but im making this comprehensive!)

st. charles’ academy for boys: this is entirely based on spencer’s first name actually being charles LNDKNFLKNK like i knew i wanted to go with an all-boys school (as opposed to olops which is actually a co-ed school!) and i thought. “this is kinda funny.” and it was!

our lady of perpetual sorrow: this is actually - and i Did Not Know This - the catholic school from suite life of zack and cody SDFGHJK which means one of two things: 1. either i heard it there and it stuck in my brain and i didn’t realize OR 2. i just have the same brain cell as the suite life writers. i have no idea. but i chose that name bc, growing up in catholic school, i heard So Many ‘our lady of ___’ school names and i thought tommy, known Mental Illness actor, would enjoy 'perpetual sorrow’ as a nod to that knfkfnfk

holy trinity preparatory school: ah the easiest one tbh!! holy trinity because TRI. TRI bc there’s three of them and also it sounds like TRY. try guys! no more thought to it than that tbh.

aquinas academy: i went into it in more detail here, but basically st. thomas aquinas is the patron saint of college students - thus college humor, thus dropout!!

st. george: this one was a little more deep-cut!! i almost went with st. martha, the patron saint of the culinary arts, but i wanted their patron to encapsulate more of the crew rather than just the kitchen. even if it was josh’s world and we were all living in it. but basically, st. george is the patron saint of knights, cavalry, and armourers. he’s frequently depicted as slaying dragons and was often compared to many mythic heroes. therefore, you can consider st. george your official patron saint of mythicality!

SOME FUN FACTS THAT DIDN'T MAKE THE CUT:

damien is in the st. charles' choir which is why spencer plays guitar for them; he also does the school plays. he's a busy boy!

patrick is an altar boy and that's how he stole the communion wine

patrick and jeremy almost kissed when they got drunk off the communion wine and have NEVER talked about it

shayne is in the running to be valedictorian

chanse has a crush on tommy (and who can blame him.)

jackie does not do soccer and although she was at most of the games in iwks did NOT know what was going on

jackie also goes to public school bc i love her so she gets to win <3

i've mentioned this before but yes amanda and angela were on the same team in high school and were best friends (and..... you know. a little more than that maybe.)

tim is rock's calc tutor and it's not going well

if spencer had any input he would push for jeremy to be the next vc because he just has a soft spot for the guy and he thinks it would do him some good. but jeremy would rather die than be in charge of anything so <3

alex's hello kitty bandaids have nothing to do with like a ravenous love of hello kitty or anything - frankly they bought them because he thought they were cute and pink and sparkly. he didn't even realize they were hello kitty but that just makes them even better. they make All the players wear them when they can.

literally no one has told marcus who ian is so when he shows up at that one party he's just like. haha! who tf is this guy :) just smiling and nodding as if he knows what's going on but EXTREMELY confused by the stranger in jeremy's house

ify and patrick were buds before either of them met jeremy

brennan took four years of latin as we know, but what you don't know is that tommy took four years of french and damien took four years of german! (spencer took the minimum requirement of spanish and that's it LKDNKNFLFKN)

a lot of the team member's relationship with religion fluctuates but ian specifically is like. agnostic-christian. where he's like "idk what's out there but the Idea of christianity is comforting." he's not sure what he thinks about god but he's cool with praying does this make sense

tommy has spencer in his phone as "charles" forever and ever bc he said so. what is spencer gonna do. stop him?

despite the ban on interactions between the two teams damien and keith have been buds/texting each other for years. they are buds to ME.

chanse is like. en route to play professionally. he's being scouted like right now. he wanted to go to like a Specialized sports high school but his parents insisted on keeping him in catholic school

aaand trevor is putting in a transfer request as we speak LKSNDLK

okay i think that's it for now as far as lore goes. i hope you all enjoy!!

[roe-sesandthorns]

unfiltered thoughts on deadpool & wolverine

first, lemme just say I enjoyed the movie. it was a first movie-in-cinema experience after a looong while and I saw it in 3D. granted was a bit unwell so mayyybe that influenced my experience idk.

spoilers under the cut

is it an enjoyable movie? YES. absolutely. i liked the comedy, liked the characters, liked the plot (generic but we'll get to it)

there was obviously a lot of love and care in the movie, for ALL the characters - not just the main ones but also the variants of older marvel movies (or non-movies) like Electra, Blade, and Gambit.

the fight scenes were as always amaaaazing

the dynamic between wolvie and dp was beautifully done

basic premise of the movie works wonderfully. especially given the previous movies as well as the in-universe explanation.

they handled the multiverse thing a bit better than the other ones. there is a legit reason for deadpool to go through the multiverses looking for wolvie to fill in the gap Logan left in his.

speaking of, i was confused how deadpool was in the 616 timeline (which, still fucking bitter they decided to use that for the MCU shitshow) for the meeting with Happy and then 6 years later in the 100005-whatever-the-fuck of his universe if both of those happened after the second deadpool

OR the meeting w Happy was before deadpool 2 and then he goes back and creates the alt timeline which leads to 10005 or whatever. the second option makes more sense so that's what i'm going with.

still confused about how deadpool changing the timeline affected the Logan universe or if they merged cause Logan's death cause the destablisation but wouldn't deadpool's timeline be a new one with some other anchor being - possibly deadpool

anyway, they very strongly claimed that deadpool wasnt the anchor being - which, so many misdirects in the movie that deadpool leans into as almost a mouthpiece for the audience and then they pull the bait-and-switch

sidenote: the misdirects were well done, it didn't cheapen the "twist" or surprises. deadpool's (and our logic) was the obvious track before they flipped it. so no gripe there. it was a good use of calling out the thing then adding a twist or surprise.

anyway the anchor being and the timeline TVA stuff was (as usual) a bit annoying and hard to follow at times logically BUT this is also a superhero movie and it DOES obey its own in-universe laws so the problem I have with Marvel's TVA shit is a personal opinion and not a reflection of the movie itself.

also the movie (through deadpool) IS aware of how godawful the multiverse shit in Marvel has been - and honestly, I agree w DP - fucking stop w the multiverse shit Marvel. it's not fun anymore cause you dropped the ball a long time back. (Multiverse of Madness, anyone?)

I had mixed feelings about wolverine's backstory on the initial watch

they hyped it up as him doing this unthinkable thing and him being irredeemable and then they are like oh no, he just didn't answer when they called. and it was like.... okay, and? I kept waiting for there to be more or the story to be different. the real revelation was that he had started killing people. and killing indiscriminately using the xmen uniform. this was given in the middle of a crucial high tension point

i see the appeal in doing it this way - logan was hiding his REAL sin deep within himself. he wouldn't offer it up to someone especially not someone he had just met hours ago. and in hostile territory. that's not him.

secondly, the impact of the revelation I feel was supposed to be more earthshattering than it ended up being. it was meant to be a huge shock. but after seeing him claw through people (and deadpool) repeatedly taking kill shots and after so much DEADPOOL level of Rated R violence, it landed a bit too softly for the moment to make an impact.

it was later as I thought about it that I was like, oh shit yeah like that was a big ass deal and his whole relationship w charles and the guilt he feels etc... that emotional weight didn't land in the middle of the moment. especially cause it was immediately followed by him quipping at Cassandra and trapping her

so was it true? must've been cause she was in his head.

does he feel the guilt the same way? that's what he says.

does that show in the aftermath of the moment? kinda, when he decides to spare her for charles.

but idk, it just didn't hit the way they might've wanted it to hit. Maybe allusions to him being a murderer or something before? set it up? his mistake was catastrophically world ending or at least world impacting. the loss of the x-men was not set up previously or alluded to soooo it rings a bit hollow.

maybe dropping a few hints before the reveal would have helped.

ALSO, sidenote but how tf did humans end up killing ALL of the x-men?? that seems v unlikely given that they are the fucking X-MEN. idk maybe i missed something.

Moving on...

as a deadpool AND wolverine movie, it delivered. there were some really amazing moments - the danceoff obviously, the cameos, the misdirects, the action sequences were amazing

am I a bit tired of seeing the "lose vanessa - save the day and vanessa - get back w vanessa" cycle for the third time? yeah. I mean I get he loves her and all but it's a bit too cyclical to hold impact. like cool, again? really?

again, not a plothole, a personal preference.

would have loved exploring more of wade's dalliances like shiklah or even Death. would;ve been cool.

not that I am mad about a decent mostly healthy relationship and a stable love interest in a Marvel movie (v tony stark-pepper potts coded)

speaking of stability, or lack thereof, I felt like this movie in particular did not delve as deeply into deadpool's unique mental headspace. i was hoping sometime they would bring in the more debilitating aspects of his mental health (the boxes, the hallucinations, the suicidal/self-harm tendencies) but I get that it might be a bit too grimdark for Fox/Disney

would've been nice to have a bit more of that aspect of his character

although who's to know maybe MCU wade's support system helps him be a bit more well adjusted

also why the emphasis on Peter? is it for a joke cuase he's just some guy? is it a cheeky peter parker jab? is it both? it's mildly funny so i don't mind. just meh about - again, personal preference.

ok something that's more objective:

i think there were too many 4th wall breaks. it was fun, the references were amazing. some of them were really good. loved the opening one, the one where he smashes the camera, and some other moments.

but after a while it felt stale or too much. the jokes did hit. it's not like they were unfunny like the rest of marvel's humour

some of the deep cuts were D E E P but it's not even about the content. deep cut references are a staple for the character.

but just the frequency of the meta jokes and the 4th wall breaks was a bit excessive?

but then again, deadpool isn't deapool if he isn't a bit annoying or excessive. my guy's the arachetype for a comedic motormouth

the woke-jokes were funny but not as edgy as he could go. I felt like the jokes were a bit too tongue-in-cheek to make them almost cringe? but whatever. they played it safe and i'm not mad about it.

as a movie, it felt a bit too attention grabby in the wrong way. there was a "aren't i so clever" or smarmy marvel overtone of "look at us being self-referrential and allowing you to laugh at us becuase you've been joking about our products being shit but when we allow ryan reynolds to do it we beocme edgy and cool and don't u wanna buy more now? look we got so much to sell you? did i tell you RDJ is coming back? which, holy fucking shit fuck that shit it sucks "

maybe it's just my anti-marvel agenda idek

still, sometimes just having fox's logo in the back rather than pointing it out is enough ig

for someone who was and is so tired of Marvel, it was a refreshing movie

i enjoyed it, it was a decent movie, a good deadpool movie not as good as the previous two and a GREAT deadpool and wolverine movie. does that make sense?

i never really cared for wolverine much in the past decade but this movie made him cool again, which was awesome

the teamup and dynamic was great

marvel needs to learn to give people who love the characters (not just their own but OTHER characters esp the oft forgotten ones) and want to do them justice more creative control and let them tell the (hopefully self contained) stories rather than focusing on playing join the dots behind the scenes OR try to catch attention through shock value

it doesn't work. it's like jumpscares in horror. you pay attention for a second cuase you're startled but the real impactful horror is the one done through themes and story - not a loud bang.

altho i have a feeling that the lesson marvel is gonna take is about shoving more and more (esp obscure) cameos in a work than actually doing justive to characters and stories

oh, also. it goes to show that the two best received (so far) movies post Endgame have been the multiverse ones with nostalgic characters

MCU's """sacred timeline""" is fucked because of them. people want to feel what they felt like watching the older more self-contained stories like the x-men or the tobey spidey movies

it's not jsut nostalgia, it's about story and characters and HEART.

phase 4 is proof that marvel doesn't have a heart.

parting thoughts: the only interaction i want from deadpool and the main MCU is with spiderman. preferably andrew garfield but i'll take holland in a pinch.

I have hope that as long as ryan has the reigns his deadpool projects + appearances will always have heart.

And I have NOT touched on how GAY (non-derogatory) the movie is and I think I need another long rant for it cause goddamn the movie is queer af and I love it. the euphemistic van scene alone GODDAMN.

it's like ryan and team were NOT here to play - deadpool is queer, get with it or perish. love that energy.

Edit: the set pieces holy shit. it was a gorgeous movie that was shot amazingly and the practical effects and CG were ON POINT. LOTS of attention to detail.

[whitepolaris]

Some Classic Lake Monsters Encounters

Folklorists Charles E. Brown was an inveterate collector of monster tales. Many of the following stories are derived from his classic work Sea Monsters.

Elkhart Lake

A creature with "big jaws" and "flashing eyes" pulled a fisherman end over end into Elkhart Lake in the mid-1890s.

Lake Mendota

The scales of a sea serpent were found on Lake Mendota's Picnic Point in 1917. That fall, a fisherman angling off the point was startled when a "large snake-like head, with large jaws and blazing eyes" popped up from the depths less than a hundred feet away from where he was standing. And in that same area, a University of Wisconsin coed tanning on a dock reacted with a speed she didn't know she possessed when she turned over to yell at her boyfriend to stop tickling her feet, but instead witnessed the head and neck of a huge serpent whose long tongue was lapping at her toes. Bozho, as the marine anomaly was known locally, had a reputation as a prankster, overturning canoes and piers, chasing sailboats, and scaring swimmers half to death. Back in 1899, a group of ladies had spotted Bozho while they were out boating on the lake. They reported that the serpent's head, which reared some distance out of the water, was ten inches in diameter and that the end of its tail, decorated with two big horns, lashed the water into a frothy foam as the creature dove beneath the waves.

Lake Michigan

During one winter in the late 1990s, Kim, thirtysomething, was riding on a bus near Grant Park in Milwaukee when a movement in Lake Michigan caught her eye. Weaving in and out of broken chunks of ice was a dark object resembling the submerged roof of a Volkswagen Beetle. Kim immediately signaled for the bus to stop. She got off and, despite wearing a skirt and inappropriate shoes, went running through the snow to the water's edge to get a better look. The object appeared to be feeding as it moved farther out from shore.

Lake Monona

In June 1897, Eugene Heath of the Garr-Scott Company fired two rifle shots at a twenty-foot serpent plying the waters of Lake Monona, near Madison. The marine monster may have been responsible for swallowing a swimming dog a few days earlier.

Lake Waubesa

An Illinois resident who went rowing on Lake Waubesa in the 1920s claimed to have seen a serpent "sixty-seventy feet in length and of a dark green color" apparently sunning itself on the surface of the lake. In the same period, a couple swimming off Waubesa Beach were terrified when a creature with glittering eyes surfaced near them.

Lake Kegonsa

A "dragon" was frequently sighted during the 1920s in the waters of Lake Kegonsa, off both Colladay and Williamson points. Unlike the mild-mannered Bozho, this habitué of the deep was characterized as vengeful and destructive.

Pewaukee Lake

In the 1890s, a "huge green thing traveling like a gray streak" and "spouting water" was frequently reported near the resort hotels that at the time dotted the shores of Waukesha County's Pewaukee Lake. One man claimed he'd tried to spear the green leviathan, but his "weapon bounded back as though it had struck a rock or iron plate."

Red Cedar Lake

The famous sea serpent of Red Cedar Lake in Jefferson County was first seen by fishermen in 1891. One witness said it had a "very large head with protuberances like saw teeth on its back." It was fifty feet long.

Rock Lake

Not to be outdone by other Wisconsin lakes, Rock Lake in Jefferson County is the lair of a monster named Rocky. Although he became more benign with age, Rocky started his career much like the vengeful dragon of Lake Kegonsa. It was August 1882 that rowboat racers Ed McKenzie and D. W. Seybert spied what they thought was a floating log. However, as they approached the "log," it suddenly "manifested life," thrusting its "head about three feet out of the water" and opening "it's huge jaws about a foot or more" before diving out of sight. McKenzie screamed in terror as the creature resurfaced near his boat. Seybert yelled, "Strike him with the oar!" But McKenzie, terrified out of his wits, called in desperation to the group onshore. A Captain Wilson, shotgun at the ready, came to the rescue, but by then the monster had vanished, leaving the air "heavy with a most sickening odor."

That was not to be Rocky's only sortie. Passing boaters reported being hissed at by the monster form the rushes near the shore.