#i want to see my girl as a veteran i want her to get so grey only her ears are black i want her to teach the next puppies how to behave

[andreabaideas]

@mzannthropy

Seeing your tags in the previous post ("I come across as a hater" one) was the final straw for something that has been eating me for months :

I've been seeing (and many other peoples tags here at Tumblr or Twitter and Instagram opinions, or TikTok) kinda justifying or explaining themselves for liking or disliking things...

And I am so fucking tired of seeing women, ALWAYS, having to defend their things, I wonder why Only women? Never or almost never men, I feel so envious of their self confidence tbh.

No one truly should have to explain themselves. You can like and dislike whatever you want...

Heretics rock!!!!!!!!

I enjoy reading different opinions...I mean I am a fandom war veteran at this point!!! I survived Supernatural drama, TVD drama, The Hunger Games love triangle war....Even the biggest one : Team Edward vs Team Jacob on Twilight fandom for fucks sake!!! XD.

And as a Twilight veteran fan (since 2007) believe me, i've learned to not give a DAMN crap about others opinions on my little beloved things that make me happy ("Twilight suck" , "Its just for Girls", "vampires dont sparkle"....🙄🖕Let me enjoy my shitty problematic beloved saga!!!! ) cause i'm happier like that XD.

On a personal note about you @mzannthropy and to show my example.

I like things similar to you that we share and we speak about, which make me very happy to talk-write about with you (or with other whom i share interests with) like : Sam Claflin, Florence Welch , The count of Montecristo, Agatha Christie, Cats...I even started reading LM Montgomery for curiosity , as i had just read Anne of the Green gables as a teen, i am re reading her now and i'm liking her!!!! I Will read everything I find of her ASAP.

But i also have different tastes to you: I dont hate me before you (I dont like It either Its so so to me like 6/10) , I like Peeta a lot while I dislike Gale with an intensity (Im always going to say that id rather have him dead than Finnick, i'll die on that hill, forever angry at Suzanne Collins) and I fucking love Riley Keough (I know you dislike / hate her).

And what? Does that make me unable to relate to you??

Noooopeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We just have different tastes and thats okay!! I like /reblog your posts that I like, the ones i dont...i ignore, and that's It. You probably do the same I guess?

I dont get why people make such a fuss! I myself received hate for liking daisily, like... Calm tf down girl , i'm just a (still) young woman reposting photos and gifs?! What harm can i possibly make you with my things??...But i blocked and I moved on. And I bitch about hatefull people like that Sometimes.

Related to the previous Sam post :

I must admit i dont dislike any of Sam's co-stars, I like most or feel neutral tbh. I even made a post with Sam + Chemistry, with my personal list of faves, those Who I didn't post about were neutral to me, fine but not super Special, and I know how you feel about that C word XD...

Believe me I find It cheap myself...but I don't know how explain that to people without that word , in english that's it...In spanish (and french too) there are way better more complex words for romantic / frienship /sexual or mixed complex conections?? English sometimes Its poor compared. We mediterraneans are messier we need those words to figure ourselves out XD.

Conclusion to this long post :

Everyone has right to their opinions and speak for themselves, Thats freedom of speech, if everyone thought the same It would be super boring tbh.

And @mzannthropy You are not a hater you are yourself. Period. Keep posting the way you do, cause Its very you , and It makes It very cool :)

Looooong pooost aaagaaaiin.

Sam Claflin and Holliday Grainger in ‘Any Human Heart’ (2010)  

[pippindot]

Lots of good vibes for Pip please. Her tummy is still getting bigger. She does not seem uncomfortable, and is in fact currently begging me for breakfast, but I don't like to see this increase. I'm suspicious this is actually a result of her very low protein diet, as she's having no other symptoms of liver distress. We all need some protein to build albumin, and albumin is what keeps your fluid inside your blood vessels. Low albumin means leaky vessels means ascites. There are some other liver formulations out there with slightly higher protein, so we might climb the scale. The main goal of low protein is to avoid neurological symptoms, and we haven't had any of those, so it should be safe to try. Nutrition consult tomorrow and I hope they're ready for the freight train.

Worst case, I may bip my little self on over to their ER and get some diuretics for her. The timing is very poor since we are traveling for Boofest, but at least we are going to be in an area with a lot of specialty services.

Most of all, she seems in good spirits and is not having any trouble breathing. Let's hope this is temporary and won't require long term medication to manage. I want to preserve her kidneys as much as we can.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[bunnys-kisses]

HI HI omg this is my first request

Can I order a coffee with side of crostata and crème caramel served by 7x world champion Lewis Hamilton

And can the situation be they are both drivers and she pushed him of the track and won so after the race she avoids him until he catches her finally

Love the bakery btw 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! then check out the menu! there are tons of options and i'd love for you check it out! as for this lovely anon! thank you for the submissions! you know i love a good rivals au, i eat it up!! so i hope you love it! enjoy!

crostata (“stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”) crème caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?") + coffee (rivals au) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dom/sub, rivals au, driver!reader, mean!lewis, rough sex, driver's room sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, mean!lewis

you had been hiding since you pulled ahead in zandvoort, securing first place. you got past norris, you got past verstappen, and you even got past the seven time world champion, lewis hamilton.

maybe your methods were a little unconventional on the track, after all, you pushed lewis off the track as a meant to secure your spot. so currently the mercedes driver was upset with you.

so therefore you were avoiding him.

you and lewis had been rivals for close to two seasons. even if he was the seasoned veteran of the track. the top title holder with a model's face and the heart of an engine. and you were a little firecracker. you came onto the scene and drove like the devil himself was on your heels.

one the track, in the paddock or in front of the press. you were the first in a while to really give him a run for his money. while you weren't a beauty queen, the media thought you were their darling. when lewis accused it of amazing media training, you just smiled, "what's wrong hamilton, under my spell too?" and lewis wanted nothing more than for you to choke on his cock.

but, lewis was a good finder. and soon as you slinked through the empty paddock. everyone packed up for the night, you heard his voice, "is that the princess!" his voice echoed in your brain.

you swallowed and tried to start moving faster. but lewis had a wider stride and even if you tried to run. he would follow. after all, he wanted to see today's winner.

"there you are!" he said with faux sweetness in case there were any lingering workers. he grabbed you from behind and hoisted you around, "there's the winner! i was looking all over for you." you tried to make yourself dead weight so he'd let go of you, but when he whispered in your ear, your knees turned to jelly, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

"hi, lewis." you swallowed.

his hand was spread across your chest. he could feel your racing pulse. he exhaled close to your ear and said, "oh, you're very funny for thinkin' that, love."

"it was an accident."

"no, no. don't lie. where's all that bravado. you look like you're going to pass out. what about the spell you had?"

"i'm sorry for pushing you off the track."

he kissed a kiss on the back of your neck, almost tender, "words mean nothing, love. can i trust you to walk about thirty feet to my driver's room? can you be a good girl for me?"

"lewis, can't this-"

"no." he said simply, "if this was about half an hour ago i would've driven us to my nice hotel and we could've even had dinner before i wrecked you. but not now, now you get to be fucked in the driver's room." his tone left you feeling hazy.

you tried to stand your ground with him, "they didn't call it, so you have no reason to be mad. you can't just pull those cheap seduction tricks and except me to fall for them."

his hands groped your ass and he said, "no, no. it's just the princess getting her special treatment once again. she can do no wrong." he kissed your neck once more, "can't let that ego get too big. because if you stop winning and the shininess of a female driver fades. they'll drop you. but i'll always have a place for you, love. right between my legs."

your stomach twisted, you felt a throb of heat in your chest. you said softly, "driver's room, right?" there was no escaping this.

lewis let go of you, but took you by the hand as an extra safety precaution. he even swung your hand like you were lovers as you walked to his driver's room. meanwhile you were mentally screaming.

you and lewis have had sex before. it was an open secret in the paddock, so much so the press had caught onto it. but it was all a flurry of rumors. there was no evidence, only word of mouth from the poor employees that caught you in the act.

you got into the room without much trouble. despite what many thought, the driver's room was the worst place to have sex. it felt like it was almost designed for driver's not to have sex.

it wasn't spacious, something about the furniture left it almost impossible to get intimate at a good angle. and that was where lewis was going to teach you a lesson.

lewis started to get undressed and expected you to do the same. he locked the door so there was no intrusion. if someone with a camera caught you, it would be international news.

then the press would talk about the eventually wedding and kids. and even the mere thought of it made you feel disgusted. being married to lewis, you had a career to go after. women to inspire! you couldn't be tired down to a man like lewis.

but yet he had you on the carpet, your hands above your head with your ass in the air. there was something domineering about him in that moment. the charming lewis, a true face of formula one, had you spread out on the carpet, ready to devour you.

you tried to get out of your clothes with your head pressed against the carpet. you kicked off your pants and struggled to get your panties off, briefly getting tangled in them.

lewis chuckled, "stuck there, love?"

you replied, huffing against the carpet, "i'm fine, i'm fine." you got out of your clothes and yelped when lewis smacked your soft ass.

"i have to admit." he said as he leaned back on his heels with his hard cock in hand, "you are very pretty. you could sell tickets with that face, but if you showed a little more. you could sellout tracks."

you arched your back and sighed into the carpet, "is that why you show all that skin online."

he leaned on top of you, his cock almost slipping in. he said, "no, no. i do those because i know you're looking. you still follow me online, love. i know you're watching and i like showing off."

you felt your heart skip a beat and you gripped into the carpeted floor, "fuck, lewis."

he pulled away a little and then rubbed the blunt tip of his cock up against your slick entrance. he said, "i know, i know. i'll make it all better soon." then eased into your pussy, which made you make the sweetest noises for him.

such a foe on the track, but when you were under him, you were a little lamb. you wouldn't hurt a fly. or push someone off the track.

he held onto your hips as he started to move. there was little time for introductions. the need to fuck was intense, it was causing your blood to run hot. you held onto the carpet and tried to meet his pace, but he kept it in a way that threw you off.

"you look good under me." he chuckled, his mouth was near your ear, he was keeping your top half pressed with the carpet. the material of it rubbed awkwardly against your breasts, leaving them a little raw from the movements.

"lewis. please, i'm sorry." you croaked.

he replied, almost softly, "i'll forgive you when you make me finish. can't be in a good enough mood to forgive when i'm hard as fuck." his lips trailed down your neck, and it made you shiver.

you whimpered a little, the feeling flooded your brain. the rush of feelings left you feeling hazy. your heartbeat felt distant in your ears as he continued to fuck you.

it was private, but it felt so public. someone with the right key could easily find lewis hamilton taking apart his rival. you were his favourite one, in a total honestly if he'd want anyone to beat him, it would be you.

but he'd never tell you that, he'd push you to your racing and sexual limits, leaving you gasping for more. flood that little head of yours with the reminder of how he made you feel.

you came and you had to cover your mouth so you didn't make so much noise. you didn't need to have people outside the room starting to get curious about what was going on inside. the feelings hit like a brick, a swift kick to you that left you aching. your noises, while muffled, made lewis want to fuck you harder.

you panted into your palms and arched your back. your eyes rolled back a little from the intensity. when you started to come down, lewis was still thrusting up into you. your noises were more passive as he continued to move against you.

"pretty girl." he said, "all fucked out under me." he shook his head a little, "i wonder what your team would think? having you spread out under me. no matter how many podiums you take, you'll never be me." he leaned forward, making sure every last inch was inside of you. he kissed the apple of your cheek and said, "i'll show you sometime, what a world champion trophy looks like." his voice was venomous and it bit at your lust riddled head.

"lewis."

"it's only fair." he curved your back a little more, getting at just the right angle, "it'll be the closest you ever get to one."

his harsh words made sparks in your head as you came once more. this time you sounded a little more desperate as you weren't able to cover your mouth. but that was enough for lewis, two heavy thrusts and he held onto you as he came.

you dropped your hips onto the floor and some cum ended up on the carpet. you panted wildly, not able to find words. but you could feel lewis' heated gaze.

he chuckled a little and rubbed his eyes, the feeling was intense even for him. he could feel the blood rush in his body, like when he raced. he said, "this is how i like you. all fucked out and not causing me problems on the track."

you made a small noise, your tongue unable to produce words. next time, think about running one of the greatest off the tracks. <3

[blingblong55]

Cowboy like me -Philip Graves

creds: @/vhenan_virabelesan on instagram

Based on a request:

i need more graves in my life. like southern cowboy graves who finds veteran reader one day in line for food or something and he just can’t help but talk to her until the blood rushes to his face and flushes red. need graves who never thought he would settle down or get married until he finds himself staring at rings after dating you for 8 months. philip who cherishes his fiery girl by winning stock shows and buying her a new mercedes just because. reader asking him how she can pay him back and he asks her to move in. philip who holds reader so so close to his body, never wanting to hurt her while his cock throbs into her. caressing her hair and clicking his tongue whenever she breaks eyes contact from his good he feels. philip being called away for a two month deployment all of a sudden. two months feel like two years until he can see his beloved peeing the ranch goats and chasing chickens back into their coop. philip who finally gets home and uses his rank to skip the welcome home ceremony, wanting to surprise reader at home since it’s late at night and him speeding home because they’re not going to live their lives through the phone. driving like a maniac until he feels the grind of gravel against rubber and the familiar low glow of the wooden house, until he holds onto her body like how oxygen embeds itself into his lungs. i need him so bad ---- F!Reader, fluff, some smut, boyfriend!Graves, cowboy!Graves, P-in-V, soft sex, soft!dom Graves, veteran!Reader ---- A/N: this is how I know you are a Graves lover, so please my dear..enjoy :)

You moved to the countryside, a small town and a pair of old boots. Life is calm, away from that old and rowdy one you lived as a soldier. This time around, you were told about some new small restaurant in town, decided to check it out and that's when all the stars aligned. He walks in, three days into his break from a long deployment and then, his eyes meet your frame. A small smile on him. Never did he see another woman like you in his part of town. Not as pretty or as captivating. His cowboy hat by his chest as he admired you. You, unaware, order your meal, eager to taste something new.

He walked closer, and the cashier asked for your name. "R/N," you said and he smiles. What a precious name. For days after, he returned to that small restaurant, walked around town and frequented many shops and then he stopped walking. There you were, getting what he assumed was your truck loaded with gravel and some other stuff. You were a local then. He knew the man from the shop, asked around and soon he realised you were the woman who bought a property close to his. Ain't it funny. Your herd dog ran away and into his property, what a fun time Philip would have.

"I'm sorry, he…is a bit of a runner," you chuckle as you get your dog in the truck. "No worries, hun. I'm Philip," he extends his hand and you shake it. "I'm R/N, a pleasure to meet you," you smile. "So, what is a pretty lady like you doing 'ere?" You chuckle, your hat being the perfect sunblock for this sunny day. "I own this land," you answer and he smiles more. "Ah, so that means you aren't just a pretty lady with a dog, that makes you my pretty lil neighbour," he gets closer. You couldn't deny it, he had his charm and it worked on you. "What if instead of keeping you out on this Sun, I keep you out, say Friday night at around 8 pm?" Oh that smile on him, what a dangerous game it played.

And so you accepted. You played the dangerous game with him and it turned into something so calm and beautiful. Now, instead of spending his days or weeks off work alone, he spends them with you. He got to know you, understand you and love all of you. Every day, there he was, at your front porch, wildflowers at hand from his part of the land. Every day, there you were, at the front door, ready to greet him with a kiss. It never was the fact he could buy store flowers, it was the intention, to always bring them to you, pretty or not, he took his time every day to pick them out, to think, 'She'll like them, yeah…this one is perfect,' that is the beauty of him. And, you always fell even deeper for him. That smile, the same one he saw every morning, gave him more reason to go around, plant flowers on his land and when they grow, he will cut them and hand them to you.

It's what all lovers did before him. His eyes, my my my, were they enchanting to look at. He never meant to be a husband, to come home to his pretty lady, to love. He was meant to be a soldier, a commander and to watch himself die sometime far from today, in some dangerous place. Today, he walks around, looks at rings and shakes his head anytime the lady at the jewellery place asks if he likes that ring. "No, don't think my darling would fit this, I need something more…more beautiful…something that matches her beauty, so let's keep looking." But that was a game to never be won. In his mind, no diamond would match your beauty, it just had to at least resemble your natural looks.

His friends were all teasing him for falling in love. It's not bad, they reassure, it's…new..it changed you for the better, they all admit. When he introduces you to them, they all look at each other. "Oh, it makes more sense," one says and the rest agree. You did change him, he has become someone everyone admires more, and he has more reason to do certain stuff now. You and him, it is possibly the healthiest of loves he or you had. The warm feeling in your chest, that feels right. The compliments from his mother, his father and siblings, all feel too well. And you know that maybe you are right, maybe this is love. It's love in the beautiful, the ugly, the immature things you two laugh at, the stare his friends give when they know he find his forever person. It is real…it's love for what humans know love to be.

"My dear, c'mon, calm down," his voice soft, hands on your body as you argue over something that happened at a store. "Babe, you don't get it. That man…ooh that man do I dislike him!" He chuckles, "You know what the deal was and what he said was right-" "No, no it wasn't and you know what, shame on you for backing him up." You push him. "No, don't do that, we don't do that. If I fuck up, you correct me and I do the same for you, we fix each other that way." You huff out and cross your arms. He was right, you did that and now he had to do the same. Anytime he said or did something that wasn't right, you corrected him and he listened and apologised and did better next time. Now, here you were, having to be in his situation. "Sorry…it's just…why…why would that man do that- you're right..sorry"

"It's over, let's move on," his arms wrap around you and you sigh. "I love you," he reminds you and you smile. Your arms now wrapping around him. "I love you too," you whisper and get comfortable in his arms. Slowly, this became the norm, talk it out, don't yell but talk, it's simple and it's what keeps it all comfortable.

Christmas, ten months into loving you, he buys and gifts you a car. Lavish and all for you. For what reason? No motive, he just felt the need to give it. You, being someone who can't just accept these nice acts, shove the keys back to him. "Nope, nope…Phil, you can't just give me this." He shakes his head, "I can and it's rude to deny a gift, my love," he walks to you, the smile on him again. Was he a wizard? To have you so enchanted by his smile? "But-…how can I repay this? This is too much, Phil-" A kiss, is all it took to have you calm down and let him love you more. "Move in, that's all I ask of you." He says between kisses and you smile. Of course, now that is the man you know. A mastermind for a fiance? Now that is something to have yourself get accustomed to.

By Spring, he and you married.

By Summer, he had your back arched, your body and his pressed against each other as he repeatedly made love to you. His cock, deep inside of you as your milked him for every last drop. Your hands, wrapped around his back, owning him and marking him with scratches, ones he would proudly wear. His hands caress your body as if you were some angelic creature. Your eyes close once your body starts to feel euphoric, its pleasure to the greatest it can be. Philip's kisses trail from your lips to your collarbone. Your tits bounce with each thrust he gave you, your eyes closed and then he grabs your face with force. "Don't you dare look away, my love, not now," he grunts and moans.

His fat cock stretches your tight cunt to its limit. You let our whimpers, your orgasm building up slowly. "That's it, be a good girl-" he grips your face again. "Tsk, what i say?" He kisses you and once he is done with your lips, he ensures your gaze never leaves his. Your drunken stare is the one thing that is making him last so long. Your juices leak all over him, his cum deep inside of you, making sure to leave you leaking. It was his way of saying goodbye as he went on yet another operation. Your cunt, throbbing for the abuse and love your dear husband gave you over and over. It was perfection, it is love that he makes to you on a night like this.

Your teary eyes, make him frown and apologise. "I'm sorry, I know…I know darling." he cups your face with his warm hands and kisses you all over that precious pouty face. Your tears dried by his lips. Love is an action or emotion. Right now, in this bed made up of two drunken lovers, he made sure to teach you that he was not like any of the past men you loved. He was sure of it because no other man-made you cum with a stare, a touch, or a lick of your precious and delicious cunt. He isn't most men, he is your man, your other half, the one that has you whimpering over his size. The one that has you lighting candles for when he comes back home.

After that night, he was gone for some time. Not much contact besides the small talk on texts or the quick calls from the base. It was an eternity, to not have him by your side, to not watch you fall over as you tried to feed the animals on the ranch. It was a long night when you didn't have him wrap his arms around you and whisper sweet nothings. But it was the rule, wait and I'll be back to love you more. You were his patient lover, like a woman back in the day, waiting all day for her man. And the second came with the view of the joint estates, he smiles. His pretty darling, his home and all those crazy animals, all waiting for him.

His mates at the base, all begged him to wait just a little longer but he couldn't not when he yearned to be in your arms. He didn't care, it didn't matter if they all wanted a sit-down cookout to celebrate a triumph of an operation. You mattered. You see, the thought of you, laying in bed, with an empty side, his pillow used as a teddy bear as you await for him, that was an image he couldn't let happen anymore. His truck, rushed through the night all to get a glimpse, a touch, a whisper and an 'I love you' from you.

The door, swung open as he hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom. The floor creaks under his step as he silents himself from excitement when he sees your precious face. It was a rush, it's love and glee to know he came home, came home to you. "R/N, doll..I'm home," he whispers as he gently stirs you awake. That smile of yours, oh it can melt a man as mean and cold as him. "Hi," your voice is so soft and small. "Hi," he responds and sits on the edge, watching as you crawl into his arms. "Did you miss me?" but of course, he knew that answer. You nod and bury your face on his chest. What was once an empty bed, is now a bed full of two. Two crazed people, two hearts, one home. "Oh I missed you more," he rubs your back and notices how your body relaxes. He holds you close, so close that it's as if he wants your body to become one.

His boots are under the bed as he settles in with you. Your warmth wrapped him in an embrace. This, this is all he ever needed. It wasn't some drunk one-night stand, it wasn't cheap love or cheap sex. No one could afford this. Don't think he even understood how much he had to afford this kind of love but he can and that is all that matters now.

A/N: I love cowboys....and I love cowboy Graves

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[barcaatthemoon]

Can I please get an Emily Engstler blurb with the prompt "A little bird told me you're a really good kisser." please?

chirp || emily engstler x reader ||

your welcome to the league came early. while your former syracuse teammate was drafted to the fever, you went to the mercury. there, your veteran teammates were sure to get you ready for every aspect of the game that they could. their favorite just happened to be trash talking you during practice. anybody should have been able to say anything to you without phasing you, but emily wasn't just anybody.

you had admittedly been so deep in the closet that you thought it was just another room in college. it seemed that everybody except for you had seen the revelation of your homosexuality coming. and so, maybe emily had felt a bit slighted when she saw you run around with your now ex on social media just before you started playing in your first season.

she hadn't said anything too personal, but emily's words bounced around your head all game long. "i guess that dani was wrong." it was so smug, and you knew exactly what emily was on about when she had said it. the first little seedling of doubt in your straightness had come when you kissed one of the volleyball players at a frat party to help her get a boy's attention. you were still friends with that girl, and she had jokingly said that you were the best kisser she knew.

"what the hell was that game?" emily asked you. it wasn't syracuse by any means, but she always knew where to find you. tough games were a part of everybody's career, and you always put in some extra practice after yours. "i know you play better than that."

"shut up em" you told her. emily didn't listen as she took your ball from you and held it in her arms. "what do you want?"

"you know what i want, what i've wanted since we met on the campus tour. come on, you know you like girls now. besides, a little bird told me that you're a great kisser, and i'm curious." emily's words were teasing, but you knew that she wasn't just joking around with you. emily wanted to kiss you, she had been trying to get with you since you met on your first campus tour.

"what makes you think that you're my type?" you asked. emily scoffed at that, rolling her eyes. she had seen the girl you dated, a former player whose career was cut short. the girl had a story that had melted your heart, and she also just happened to look a lot like emily. you couldn't deny the blonde hair, soft eyes, and tattoos drew you in just like the rasp in her voice kept you in a metaphorical chokehold.

"fine, be like that. i'll see you in indiana in a couple weeks then." you sighed as emily passed your ball back to you. she was nearly halfway across the court when you dropped everything and sprinted towards her. you crashed into emily's back, but not hard enough to knock her over.

"fuck it, you've waited long enough," you said softly. emily looked like she couldn't believe you were really going to kiss her until the moment your lips were on hers. you clung to emily tightly, like you were afraid that you'd float away otherwise. her lips were so soft that you might as well have jumped into the clouds. emily was gentle with you in a way that you hadn't expected. "fly back safe, and find somewhere good to take me when i'm in your city. i don't mean fancy em, i want a good time. you don't have to impress me."

"anything and everything you want," emily said with a dreamy look in her eyes. you gave her one more quick kiss before you turned back to your practice. emily stayed to watch you for a couple more hours before she absolutely had to get back to pack her things up at the hotel.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Run Free

art by me!

Price, Gaz, and Ghost visits the MacTavish Estate baring the news.

Word Count: 2.1k words Warning: Major character death, angst and comfort. Note : I wrote this fic a few days after I finished the campaign. I've always thought it weird why the 141 boys had Soap's ashes when I've always seen Soap as someone with a family and a had good relationship with them, especially since it's canon that Soap's cousin brought him to the SAS base several times as a kid. Here's my interpretation of that fact, on how Soap's urn ended up with the boys.

Price, Gaz, and Ghost wore their dress uniforms from head to toe, finding themselves in front of the MacTavish Estate in Glasgow. It was… big, to say the least. Soap’s family was known not only because a number of people from the family are serving in the British Royal Armed Forces, but also the fact that they are 7th generation furniture company - MacTavish Furnitures. Lots of members of the family are veterans turned businessmen, carpenters, or woodworkers. It is a common cycle of life for them.

As Ghost and Gaz stood, Price climbed the stairs and wore his beige beret, breathing deeply through his nose before letting the air out to prepare himself, lifting his hand to knock on the wooden door. The captain heard faint noises of multiple footsteps from multiple people and some voices of heavy Scottish accent from inside the house. He waited for a moment, until the door finally opened, but he found no one in front of him. 

“Who are ya?”

A little voice spoke from under him, prompting Price to look down. He found a little girl with blonde hair no taller than his knees. She’s absolutely drenched from head to toe in a blue swimming attire and had to bend her neck so high to see him. He bent down to his knees to match her height, before saying,

“Hello. I’m… My name is John.” 

“John? Like Uncle Johnny?” Her little voice said, face gleaming with happiness at the name.

“Yes. Like Uncle Johnny.” Price smiled, chuckling lightly. The girl grinned at his smiling face. “May I see your dad? Or mum?”

“Phoebe MacTavish! Get your wee feet here before I pick your legs off of that floo–! Oh, Hello there.” A new voice came from in front of him, revealing herself to be an old woman with dark brown hair, though with white strands and the same quizzical brow that reminded Price of Soap. She looked strong, nonetheless, wearing a green shirt and knitted vest with a towel hanging from one of her shoulders, obviously to dry the little girl after a session of swimming in their estate’s pool. 

Price stood back up, greeting the lady. “Mrs. MacTavish.” 

The old woman looked at his attire up and down, and Price swore that he saw the gears rotating inside her mind. She looked down at the girl and gave her the white towel, “Phoebe. Go inside and dry yourself. Find your Da, Aunt Rachel, and Uncle Hugh, too. Tell them to meet me at the front door, yeah?” The little girl nodded and ran inside, disappearing into the house as Price heard a faint yelling from the same child, calling for the stated family members. 

Now, the lady in front of him walked closer to the doorway, face to face with him. She’s undoubtedly no taller than 5’7”, a height that might have been receding as time went by, but you could spot a proud MacTavish wherever you see one. Price offered his hand for a handshake as she accepted. “Captain John Price from the 22 SAS Regiment.” 

“Joan MacTavish.” She replied. Price noticed the name as the name on Soap’s file as his guardian, with the relation being marked with ‘Aunt’. “What brings you here, Captain?” Her face looked neutral like it wasn’t the first time a soldier with a full dress uniform knocked on this wooden door. 

Just before Price could say what he wanted to say, a deep voice called to her. “Mum?” One woman and two men with a frame similar to him showed up from inside the house. One man was around Ghost’s age, one was around his age, while the woman in a bun looked older than him, though looking very vibrant and professional. All of them had the same thick eyebrows – Family traits, he supposed – and clearly looked like honourable but firm Scottish people. Upon seeing Price, though, their faces changed from confusion to realization. 

Price remembered that Soap was not the first MacTavish in the SAS. In fact, there was another member of the family, Oliver MacTavish, who died in the line of duty a decade ago. Price remembered the way Soap had told the story of Ollie, his cousin, bringing his little arse to the SAS base  - however unpermitted it was – and how Price had busted Soap multiple times for applying with a fake age. 

“Rachel MacTavish.” The eldest one spoke.

“Hugh MacTavish.” The elder man said, followed by the younger.

“Scott MacTavish. That was my daughter, Phobe.” They all shook hands with Price. 

He repeated his greeting, before Rachel started,

“I've seen the likes of you before. I recognize that beret even from a mile away." She said firmly. "Out with it."

The captain's breath hitched as he cleared his throat, preparing himself to deliver the news. And so, he began.

"On November 21st, our target had placed an active bomb inside the underwater tunnel that connects the UK and France. During our attempt to defuse the bomb, the target sneaked from behind our line of sight…"

The whole family's face changed, Joan's eyes looked glassy with tears seeming like she knew of the incoming words.

"And I regret to inform you… that Sergeant John MacTavish has died in the line of duty."

Ghost, without his mask and black face paint around his eyes, and Gaz with their dress uniforms and beret could only stand from the base of the stairs, watching and hearing as Joan's cry of anguish tear through the morning sky. 

"Oh Lord. Johnny. Johnny. My baby, Johnny." Joan repeated his name like a chanting to the sky. "Why must You take him so soon? Why must he join Ollie so soon?"

The whole family hugged their mother as she wailed, her knees looked like it was giving up. Gaz gritted his teeth to strengthen himself, not wanting to break down to cry himself. 

As the family cried, Price could only stand still, letting the news sink in for the family. His job as the leader of the team was done, at that point. He delivered the news to his family. 

"The bomb…Did he defuse it?" Hugh questioned in the middle of his sobs. 

"He–" Price swallowed, remembering the way Makarov had killed him. "We were both defusing the bomb, John guiding me along the way as he was the demolition expert."

"He protected me, Sir. Our target was about to shoot me, before John stopped him - and got killed instead. The target ran away, but me and Sergeant Garrick managed to defuse the bomb thanks to his prior guidance, saving thousands of lives underneath the 30-mile underwater tunnel." Price answered as Rachel looked up at his face, anger and denial filling her in an instant. 

She raised her hand in such a way that Price knew that she was about to slap him. Price still opened his eyes, fully welcoming the slap before her hand stopped. 

Rachel bit her lips so hard that it might bleed, lowering her arm.

"...Why does it have to be Johnny? Why do you get to live and he doesn't?" She barely whispered in a shaky voice, going back to wiping her face again. “Why Johnny…?”

And Price asked that question every single hour ever since his death. 

Why Soap, and not him?

—

The MacTavishes requested for Soap's body to be sent to Scotland, where they held a memorial at the MacTavish estate to which they promptly honoured. The number of family members participating was not that many, considering only the immediate family attended. Price, Soap, and Ghost joined them, and even escorted the family as they travelled to the crematorium.

After the whole procession finished – that took the entire day – the family finally had possession of the urn containing Soap's ashes, and they invited the three back to the estate, where they now sit inside the guest room and tea in front of them with Joan and Rachel, his urn placed on a table beside Joan.

That was the day they learned that Soap was actually the son of Joan's late husband's younger sister. Soap's mother – her sister-in-law, died when she birthed Soap, while Soap's father died during an accident in a factory before his own birth. 

Soap had been raised by his uncle's family since his infancy, growing up in the MacTavish house as a strong and firm Scott under the wing of the eldest brother, Oliver. 

"He's always wanted to be like Ollie, that wee kid," Rachel told them after holding a photo album containing photos of Soap when he was a baby in his late uncle's arms, a photo of him and his older cousins playing with mud, photos of his graduations from school, and photos of him passing the test to be a part of SAS along with his cousin, Oliver. "Said he didn't want to go to school. Just visit the army base every day. It's what he dreamed of."

Ghost, still in his dress uniform, felt the most vulnerable in that room - Without his mask, in front of Johnny's family. He also had been in agony for the past day, because he'd failed to cover Johnny's back. He had one job at that time, and he failed, catastrophically. He only sat there with his hands joined in his lap, not daring to look at the family in the eyes. 

"We're very thankful for John's service with us. He was the best there is." Gaz spoke, "John's memory will live with us."

"Thank you, Sergeant Garrick." Joan smiled as she looked up. "I heard you share the same quarters with him in the barracks. I hope he wasn't too much of a naughty boy."

The sergeant chuckled lightly at that, "Well. Soap wasn't someone who could stay away from mischief too long, but I assure you that he's an absolute joy and inspiration to be around." Hearing Joan's laughter cured a little part in Gaz, as the only thing he'd heard from her was the sound of her cry. He could at least pride himself in knowing that he could share Soap's merry nature.

As they share memories, Price finished his tea before he stood up from the sofa, followed by the other two. "Well. We must take our leave, Ma'am. Thank you for the tea."

"Anytime." Joan spoke as the soldiers started to leave the sofa, heading towards the main room and front door. 

"Which one of ya’s is ‘LT’?"

Rachel’s voice stopped the men in their tracks, particularly Ghost’s. All three men turned around, finding the woman holding Soap’s urn in her hands. Price saw how Ghost's face turned to that of a deer in a spotlight, so he put his hand behind Ghost’s back to lightly push him towards Rachel, but Ghost’s hesitancy was apparent in the way he slowly walked. 

“...That would be me, Ma’am.” Ghost’s deep voice rumbled softly as he looked down to Rachel’s height. The lady herself observed him up and down with a negative face that she could convince him that he was standing there naked. 

“Yer tryin’ so hard to make yourself look small for such a big man. It’s almost dreading.” She started, her hips shifting. “I’ve been the CEO of MacTavish Furnitures since my da’ passed away and Ollie decided to go to the army, and I read people like a book. For someone whom Johnny admired the most – and repeatedly spoke about – you don’t look like the LT I heard from him.” Ghost was starstruck at the statement. Soap, talking about him to his family? “I expected you to be cocky and exude pride in your steps, but all I’m seein’ is just a pathetic, sad bloke.” 

Ghost stood still at those comments. No one practically had ever roasted him this badly in front of his teammates. He wondered if he showed up in his other attire, she’d dare to say all this. But then again, if someone got to do it, he was glad that it came from an honourable woman of the MacTavish bloodline. 

What caught him off guard was her hands stretching towards him, holding Soap’s urn in front of his chest. Ghost looked down at the metal container, looking confused as he looked up again to face Rachel. He thought the MacTavishes were going to hold on to Soap’s urn, and they get to keep Soap’s dog tags. However, clearly, the current head of the family had other wishes.

“Take Johnny with ya. Being trapped inside this urn for eternity in this old house would be the last thing he wanted.” The woman started with a shaky voice, her eyes starting to brim with tears again. Seeing Soap’s character, Ghost could understand that completely. 

“He’s… the proudest he could ever be when he’s with ya’s." Rachel continued. 

"So I ask you, as our brother’s comrades, to hold on to Johnny – and free him.” 

Ghost’s eyes opened wide in surprise, still couldn’t fathom how fondly Soap must've talked about his teammates, especially him, to his family that they’d give him his ashes. Ghost lifted his hands to carefully receive the urn. 

After breathing deeply, Ghost stood straight, holding Soap firmly. 

“We will, Ma’am.”

—

The three of them walked towards the car parked just outside the MacTavish estate with Ghost holding Soap’s urn in his hands. They all took off their berets and entered the car, Price the designated driver, Gaz riding shotgun, while Ghost sat in the backseat. 

“So what do we do with him, Sir?” Gaz rotated his body to look at Soap’s urn on Ghost’s hands, same as Price.

Ghost contemplated in his mind, staring at the metal urn, before speaking, “Where’s Johnny’s place of birth?” 

Price answered immediately as he’s the one who took care of Soap’s documents. “Isle of Skye.” 

“Soap said there’s a beautiful cliff where he and his cousins used to go to play. Endless sea where the eyes could see.” Gaz added.

“Then that’s where we’re goin’.” Ghost spoke with finality. “And then we’ll let Johnny go.”

Price and Gaz nodded to each other. "Alright, Soap. Let's get you home." The captain started the car and stepped on the gas, beginning their journey towards the Isle of Skye.

---

I'm not okay. Thank you for reading! (T_T) reblogs and comments of your thoughts are much appreciated!

[wosostories]

Heath Sisters PT 4 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Reader and Tobin spend some more time with the team.

Part 4

As soon as the hotel room door closes Y/N wraps her arms around her sister and buries her head into her chest. 

“It’s ok Kid. It’s going to be ok.” 

“They were really loud.”

“I know.”

“Can we finish our nap now? Please.” Y/N's voice strained as she tried to keep herself from crying. 

“Ya kid we can. I’m sorry today has been so overwhelming for you.” Y/N just shook her head and curled up next to Tobin on the bed. 

It wasn’t too long after that Y/N was asleep again. Tobin, however, couldn’t fall back asleep. The only thing running through her mind was how she was going to get through the next two weeks without someone finding out about their pasts.

It was another hour later that Y/N started to stir. Calling out to her sister in the midst of a nightmare. “Toby… Toby. Make them stop. Please, make them stop. Toby…”

“It’s ok it’s ok. No one here is going to hurt you. You aren’t there anymore, I’ve got you.” Tobin pulled her sister into her lap and rested her head against her chest stroking her hair in hopes to calm her down. Tobin started rocking her when tears started streaking down her face. 

It took another few minutes for Y/N to open her eyes and willingly curl in further to her sister. 

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, how long till dinner?”

“About half an hour, we should start getting ready soon.”

Y/N nods against her sister, “A few more minutes?”

Tobin sits up and gathers her sister in her arms, “Whatever you want Y/N. Whatever you want.”

The sisters spend another 10 minutes snuggled into each other. Tobin sighs, “Come on kid, let's get ready for dinner. We don’t want to be late. Remember what they said earlier, you get all the good stuff if you get there first.”  

The sisters make their way out of bed and spend the next few minutes cleaning themselves up. 

“Do you think they’re going to yell again?” Y/N asks. 

“I don’t think so. They should have settled down at this point.” Y/N nods. They head down to the meal room. There are already a few members of the staff there when they arrive, but none of the team members. 

“I knew I made the right decision bringing you into the squad.” Jill commented following the sisters into the meal room. They gave her a confused look. Jill chuckled, “You are going to be the only one of the girls here on time, which confuses me to no end seeing as they all love food.” 

Jill continues to walk into the room and joins more of the training staff at their table. Tobin and Y/N make their way to one of the open tables and wait for the rest of the team and dinner to be served. The next one of the girls came in 5 minutes after dinner was supposed to start. It took another 10 minutes for the entire team to show up. As soon as the last two showed up, Kelley and Sonny, dinner was brought out. 

They ended up sitting with a couple of the more veteran players Krieger, Kilng, Becky, Abby, A rod, and Cheney. 

“Ah come on, I wanted to sit with the newbie.” Kelley complained as she finally made her way into the room. 

“Well then you should have been on time. Now sit down so we can eat.” Her captain told her. She grumbled her way to her own seat. 

“Have you gotten settled?” Kling asks them.

“Oh, uh ya. The rooms really nice. Had a great nap.” Tobin replies. 

“How about you Y/N? How are you settling in? You figured out your luggage situation yet?” 

“What luggage situation?” Becky asked. 

“Oh, the airport lost Y/N’s bag and sent it to florida. It wouldn’t arrive here in time before we went back so we just had them send it back home.”

“So Y/N doesn’t have any clothes?” 

“She’s got her soccer gear and she can just wear some of my stuff. It’s only a couple of weeks. So I guess you can say that we’ve got it all sorted.” 

“Two weeks is a long time to not have any clothes. We’ll have some time tomorrow after morning practice to go to the store. We can take the rental car coach won’t mind.” 

“No, that's ok.” Y/N just sits picking at her dinner as the older girls around her talk. The other girls at the table could tell that that conversation was over, and wanted to change topics quickly. 

“So Y/N your sister said you're a forward right?” Y/N nods. “What soccer player do you look up to the most?” A Rod questions.

“Toby. Who else?” 

“Ok I should have seen that one coming. Then who is your second favorite?”

“Toby.” 

“But you said she was your first favorite?” Cheney buts in. 

“No Tobin is the player I look up to the most, and my second favorite player.” Tobin chuckled at the serious tone her sister took on. 

“Ok so who’s your favorite player?” A Rod tries again. 

“I… don’t think I can say.”

“Why not?” Y/N doesn’t respond. “Are they someone on the team?” She blushes and looks down, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Holy shit it is. Now you have to tell us.” Abby demands. Y/N blushes even harder and shakes her head. “We won’t tell them. Unless it’s someone at this table.”

PART 5

[qqueenofhades]

AAAAHHHHHHHH It's TIM! 1000% strong MN girl here and boy it's been real fun to watch Tim (and Peggy! Our amazing lieutenant governor) take a small small Democratic majority and do incredible things. My kid ate two meals at school every day for free. DELIGHTED that he's the VP pick. LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!

Listen, I am just ECSTATIC. Ever since I seriously became tuned into the veepstakes, he was my number one pick (I mean, I was not immune to the brief flirtation everyone had with Beshear/Buttigieg/etc), but yes. Walz was my top pick and I was trying desperately not to get my heart too set on him in case it fell through, but he was the obvious best choice of the contenders by a country mile. He has an almost absurdly Midwestern pro-America background (military veteran, public school teacher, football coach from a small rural town, etc) AND he has managed to enact a long list of progressive policies in Minnesota with a very narrow majority in the state legislature. Also, you're going to be seeing a lot of this video, for good reason:

Also.... let's be real, Shapiro would have been an incredible distraction/drag on the ticket, unfortunately. We don't need to deal with his retrograde views on Gaza and his other baggage, and while he is a very popular governor in Pennsylvania, it's less certain that his appeal would translate to other states. We can argue (or you know, let's not and move on) about whether or not that was fair, but this is just not the year to try to win the most critical high-stakes election ever by pissing off young voters. Shapiro has done plenty of good things and has time to develop his career further, but he would have been a BAD pick for 2024 and I was alarmed at how many Respected Pundits (tm) were pulling for him. Reuters even claimed that picking him would "defang Republican attempts to make Israel-Gaza a wedge issue for Democrats," which is such a mind-bogglingly stupid statement that it makes you wonder how anyone writing it actually got paid for their political insight, but it also explains a lot about mainstream media these days. Picking Shapiro would have been an absolute gift to the Republicans and bad-faith actors and others (plus like, I don't want to have to spend time winning back the young voters who are actually once more engaged in the process!) and would have led to the media eagerly jumping into the feeding frenzy (because they're desperate to have a reason not to cover Trump's increasingly crazy-ass shit) and other Democratic-on-Democratic infighting. And it goes without saying that WE CANNOT AFFORD THAT.

As well, picking Shapiro just because you need to win PA this election cycle is yet another example of why the Electoral College sucks, and the polling averages in PA have been moving solidly blue anyway. You can just park Shapiro there and have him campaign in the state as the sitting popular governor, rather than expose him to the liability of a nationwide campaign where, as noted, all the other stuff would be a drag. If it's true that the establishment was pushing Harris to pick Shapiro and she picked Walz instead, a) GOOD! and b) if anything, this election cycle needs to fucking teach us that we have got to stop going with the Conventional Wisdom Tee Em. Walz was already out there, he was already popular with the public/energizing the grassroots, AND he was the guy who coined the "Weird" attack line that is actually effective and organically popular against the Republicans and drives them batshit. So for Kamala to lean into that and take him as her running mate is... zomgz... smart, and I am not used to the Democrats playing smart and aggressive and not just passive-defensive. I don't understand. Wow.

Anyway, now watch the New York Times (and the others, lbr, but especially the NYT) desperately try to dig up scandalous stories about that time Walz didn't stop at the 4H booth at the county fair, or walked past someone without saying "Ope just gonna sneak by ya first" or some other terrible Midwestern sin, but fuck those guys. I am EXCITED I am ENERGIZED I am THRILLED. This is a GREAT new ticket that came together at incredibly short notice and completely changed the dynamics everywhere, Walz is gonna make JD Vance cry (unsure whether I want to see Harris demolish Trumpster or Midwestern Dad to turn the cranks on Weird Couchfucking Fascist Skidmark more, but both, both, both is good). LET'S GO GET THOSE WEIRD MOTHERFUCKERS, Y'ALL!!

HARRIS/WALZ 2024!

[globalrebrand]

i love all ur depictions of vil and i’m so happy u took a liking to lyney who’s also my fav ❤️ ur toxic vil in particular haunts my brain, lives in my floorboards and echoes in the halls of my mind at night….so may i humbly please request “forcing them to divulge past traumas or secrets” with vil? 🥹

Warnings: Dead dove, do not eat. Mentions of past sexual assault, nonconsensual age gap relationship.

Vil had been quiet since you'd left the party.

This wasn't unlike him. At the end of a long night of socializing, he generally preferred to hold your hand or, even better, sit with you tucked against his side in the back of his car while his driver navigated you both to his penthouse.

But tonight, the gap between the middle seat felt like an unbridgeable canyon stretched between the two of you.

It was his father's 50th birthday celebration held at the family home. The Shaftlands elite came out in droves to celebrate the beloved Eric Venue.

The night started well enough. Vil was more than happy to introduce you to his wider circle of famous friends and loved ones. As an up-and-coming model with a promising career (even more so with Vil proudly claiming you as his), your agent wouldn't let you forget how this was a rare opportunity to expand your network, but you weren't here for any of that. Tonight, all you wanted to do was support your boyfriend and his father at this critical milestone.

Vil made the rounds with you, introducing you to well known actors, actresses, veteran supermodels, producers and directors all gathered to celebrate his father.

You and Vil were in fragile territory as a couple. If you were able to successfully demonstrate that you could be one of them, an elite, a star, then you and Vil were looking at a future as one of the foremost power couples in the industry.

Thankfully, things were going splendidly; you spoke at the correct times and came off as appropriately humble and down to earth as an outsider in such an elite group. You took great pride in how Vil beamed as he watched you gracefully interact with these other celebrities, your natural charisma on full display. It was hard to get any higher off the fumes of his affection, then he paused, observing you with a tender look and petting the apple of your cheek with a smooth thumb before quietly admitting, "I'm so happy I have you."

That was until you ran into him.

"There's one more person I want you to meet," Vil said warmly, urging you away from your current conversation to meet a distinguished-looking white-haired gentleman.

"Uncle Valle, this is my girlfriend." Vil beamed but the director had a sickening look on his face, ignoring his nephew and addressing you with far too much familiarity.

"Long time no see." You froze. Valle Mensing is a world-famous director and a man you'd desperately hoped never to see again.

"Uh- I think you're mistaken. It's nice to meet you." You avoided eye contact, suddenly finding your shoes interesting, was you felt Vil bore daggers into the side of your head.

The older man raises an eyebrow in slight disbelief.

"Hmmm, you're right my mistake." Thankfully Valle just patted Vil on the back mentioning, "lovely girl you got there, take good care of her."

Vil grabbed your hand and tugged you close to whisper in your ear.

"What was that?" You wouldn't do this now, couldn't.

"Vil, I feel a little sick. I'm going to step out into the garden. If you'll excuse me," you excused yourself, leaving Vil absolutely baffled and more than definitely ensuring that he was suspicious of your interaction with his beloved uncle.

You had no idea they were so close, and now you were scared. You prayed Vil would just let it alone, as unlikely as it would be, but you didn't want to make him choose. Rather, you didn't want to be rejected by him in favor of his dastardly uncle.

You both left shortly after. Vil's mood was considerably soured, and a paranoid expression became etched into your features.

Now, it has been about 20 minutes of driving, and still, no word has passed between you.

Uncertain of what to anticipate, you needed to at least confirm where Vil would be dropping you off tonight. You had a sinking suspicion that your behavior tonight didn't earn you the privilege to share his bed.

"Are you dropping me off or-" You're quickly interrupted.

"What relationship do you have with my uncle?" Vil turned to look at you, his eyes already brimming with judgment.

The impulse to lie was so strong. You'd done it for so long. You knew Vil would likely see right through it, but you had to try. Try to protect yourself and him from the truth. It was only when you were with Vil that you felt as if you had any worth. If he knew your past, what had actually transpired between you and his uncle, you're certain he would no longer want you.

And then, who would you be?

"I don't have any-" You started, but as you suspect, you were cut off almost immediately.

"Why did he say 'long time no see?'" Vil questioned, leering over you with a raised brow. "Don't play dumb. It's unbecoming." He scolded, a coldness in his eyes but an unmistakable look of morbid curiosity. Vil likely already suspected what you would reveal to him, but he wanted to hear it from your lips and force you to bear the most vulnerable parts of yourself to him.

"Vil I-"

"I saw you speak to him in the garden. What were you speaking about."

"It was a long time ago." Your face was hot, and your voice pinched and weary. Tears threatening to spill at any moment.

Vil sighed, exasperated and desperate for the truth. It was obvious he was done waiting for you to confess in earnest.

"Did you fuck him?" The words struck you like a blade to the chest.

"Please, I-" You wanted to retreat and hide, but there was no cover from Vil's relentless barrage of questions and accusations in the backseat.

"Did you or did you not. If you don't tell me now, we're finished."

A long silence passed between you as you tried to form the words in your mouth.

"Yes." The words come out cracked and dry. A horrible truth you didn't want to deny. The tears had started falling now, hysterical sobs wracking your entire body. You prayed the driver had the decency not to spare you a glance.

"Did he force you?" Vil questioned. Less angry, but not even remotely comforting.

"It doesn't matter, please. I just want to live in the now with you!"

"He did, didn't he. He raped you?" You tried to verbalize to say yes, he did...many times, but all you could do was nod wordlessly.

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened tonight."

"H-he asked me why I didn't tell you about our relationship. And I said because it's not something I'm proud of." Calming yourself with stuttering breaths, you admit, "Vil, I'm not lying when I say it is my greatest shame."

"Why don't people know about this?" He's angry. Hurt.

"Because...I wasn't exactly of age at the time." Vil startles, like you've smacked him.

Quietly, as asked, "How old were you?"

"15."

He curses in his native tongue, looking angry and disgusted.

"My agency lied about my age to get me into the country." You went on to explain.

I didn't want to, but they said the connection would benefit my career, and I didn't know any better.

"I've never told anyone."

At that Vil perked up. A pitying look on his face as he embraced you for the first time since you left the party.

"You should not have been subjected to anything so horrible."

We'll go to my home. I wouldn't want you to be alone after having to face that awful man.

"You won't say anything, right?" You plead. Vil tsks.

‘My love, he can't be allowed to go free.” He leans closer, whispering in your ear.

“Think about all of the other women- No. Girls. He's hurt because of your silence.”

The tears that stopped only moments prior, resume their unbidden cascade.

“You were very courageous in telling me,” vil continues, “but I cannot allow you to be silent about this any longer."

He sits up, posture as regal as ever as he observes your tear stained face in the flicker of passing street lamps.

“Don't worry, darling. No one who hurts you will ever be allowed to go unpunished.”

You nodded and clung to your boyfriend, grateful that, at least, he didn't seem like he would leave you, but somehow, you weren't comforted by his assertion.

[narwal-ed-in]

ARMY GLITTERATI - (Band of Brothers x Bimbo!Reader)

✨glitterati✨- /ˌɡlɪt̬.əˈrɑː.t̬i/ - 1940's slang for famous people, glamorous people, in the spotlight.

Summary: “You want to become a combat medic for the 101st?” “What, like it's hard?”

Warning: Period typical sexism, Fem reader, she/her pronouns, slight body shaming (not directed at reader). NO BETA READ. I WROTE THIS JUST NOW SO PLEASE DON'T EXPECT MUCH.

No disrespect to the real veterans of WW2, all my BoB fanfics are based on depictions by actors in the miniseries.

Borders by @plutism

BEFORE TACCOA

The war is raging and everyone is doing their part to help the men on the front.

For you, that mostly meant trying to look your best at all times, no matter how inconvenient the situation.

"Looking good is a ginormous part of the war effort, it's good for boosting troop morale. I saw it on a poster at the teaching hospital" You reasoned with your father after he complained about you buying another pair of shoes and some expensive vanishing creams.

"Darling, I think they meant that we should all keep our appearances up, not buy out our local department stores"

"Oh my god daddy, you're suffocating me! I'm just doing my part by looking nice..." you glare at your father in his work clothes and eye him with a grimace "...and clearly you're not"

When you get a telegram informing you that you've been selected to participate in a program that aims to send female medics into combat you jump on it.

This is going to be so much fun.

"I'm going to be the talk of the town when everyone finds out. Not even Reverend Smiths boring old story about dying for ten minutes in a car crash and seeing Jesus will be able to outdo this!"

Your supervisors at the hospital are shocked that you've been chosen, seeing as you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

You had once walked out of an operation because it was bloody and you were wearing white (all the nurse uniforms are white).

You hoped you wouldn't be assigned to the army or the airforce.

The army is too basic, and if you were stuck on an airbase somewhere then nobody would be able to see how fab you always were.

The navy was your goal, their uniforms were sooo cute, you were just dreaming of all the ways you could style it.

It's just your luck when you get assigned to airborne.

"THIS BLOWS! I'm in the two most unglamorous branches at the same time"

After your initial breakdown you realized it wasn't that bad. If you were jumping out of planes it just meant that your hotness would have a bigger audience since it would literally be raining down from the sky.

"When the Germans see all this falling from the sky, they're going to flip their friggin wigs! AHHHH"

CONNECTING WITH EASY

You're assigned to Easy company and meet the men a few months into their training at Camp Toccoa.

You show up randomly in the middle of the day.

Although the men had been told a woman would be joining them and they had been expecting you, they hadn't been expecting YOU.

You were a ditzy thing and looked like you’d jumped out of one of their pin up postcards. The brass surely couldn't expect them to put their lives in your hands.

"I'm sooo happy to meet everyone. You know, the other girls in the program are such massive liars, they said airborne was where all the uggos went, but that's so not true. After all, I'm here"

You always woke up an hour earlier than the rest of Easy so you would have time to put your face on.

It was one of your tenets to never be seen by anyone outside of family without makeup on, or with your curlers in.

Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, Shifty, Bull, Christenson, Lip and Winters had all been kind to you from the beginning, expecting nothing in return.

But some of the guys had other ideas.

George was one of the men that befriended you initially. And although he did have the ulterior motive of getting it on with you, he eventually stuck around because he actually liked you.

You guys have great play-flirting banter and you're both very entertaining people to be around, especially when you're drunk.

On the rare nights anyone gets passes they want to be around you and George because they know that's where the funs at.

You get sloppy drunk with George, flirt with men from Easy and other companies all night, then end up with your shoes off at 3am, sitting on the curb and crying about one of your ex boyfriends.

Perconte was one of your original detractors but when you found yourselves making the same brain dead comments about obvious things, you both decided to put your two half braincells together to form the singular braincell you share between yourselves.

Talbert was trying to get into your pants instantly. Nobody was surprised.

But just like George he grew to be genuinely fond of you.

What was surprising was Joe Toye taking you under his wing.

Toye could see that you were absolutely clueless and the worst part was, you had no idea.

Toye couldn't bear the agony of watching you skip around camp with your happy-go-lucky attitude, harping on about celebrity gossip nobody cared about.

"Y/N!" Toye yelled as you all got dressed to run Currahee "Why the hell is your PT shirt pink?!"

"Isn't it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, Joe? I put a red handkerchief in with my laundry. Cosmo said carnation pink is the color of the summer"

Huffing and puffing, Toye took out one of his spare shirts and forced you to wear it.

"And when you give it back, it better not be fucking 'flamingo pink'" Toye said.

"Oh honey, this isn't 1939, flamingo pink is so over. I wouldn't be caught dead in that. You know, Joe, sometimes I feel like you don't care about fashion at all" You scoff at his cluelessness as you walk out.

Joe Toye is secretly your best friend in the company.

Toye taking you in meant Gaurnere and Johnny Martin had to be around you, much to their chagrin.

They didn't want some girl hanging off of them.

You win Gaurnere's respect when you coach him on what to write to his girlfriend back home to assure her that he's serious about their relationship when she began doubting his intentions.

And you win Johnny's respect when you help him find the most romantic gift for his wife for valentines day.

"Y'know, back home they call me the love doctor...Well, they used to, before I told Betsy Kline that Rob Jones was her soulmate but then he left her at the altar to elope with his housekeeper"

Sobel despised you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Not wearing your red lipstick everyday was torture, but you had to stick to natural colours so Sobel wouldn't be able to tell what you had on.

He tried with everything in his power to get you kicked out, but much to everyones surprise, you kept up extrordinarily well with the men when it came to physical training.

"I do a lot of Pilates. It's really good for flexibility and helps you keep a positive outlook so you're not be such a 'negative nancy' all the time. Some of you could really use it. Some more than others..." you said as you side-eyed Skinny who just looked around incredulously

Eventually most of the men come to consider you a friend and a confidante since you give remarkably sound relationship advice.

"It's like sooo hard being the smartest person and the hottest catch in this camp at the same time"

The hardest nuts to crack in your immediate friend group end up being Leibgott, Cobb and Doc Roe, all for different reasons of course.

Leib was snide and arrogant and spoke to you like you were a silly little girl.

He didn't shy away from telling you how dumb he thought you were to your face.

Your relationship eventually becomes friendly but he will still be mean occasionally.

He always ends up apologising though and feels really bad when he makes you cry (the other guys nearly bite his head off whenever this happens).

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop being a baby already. I said I was sorry" Lieb said to you as you cried into your pillow.

"You can say sorry to me, Joey, but how are you going to tell Rita Hayworth you're sorry for saying nobody cares about her nighttime face washing routine?" You spoke inbetween sobs.

"I ain't saying sorry to Rita because I ain't sorry I said it. I stand by what I said. Nobody cares how some broad washes up at night"

"You take that back! That routine saved my life" You jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.

"How the fu-"

"You're a horrible, horrible man Joseph Leibgott"

"Oh put a sock in it" Leib rolled his eyes, making you cry even harder.

Toye, ever protective of you, had enough "I swear to god Leibgott, leave that girl alone!"

Cobb was just straight up cruel to you and made sure you always knew "your place".

Roe didn't seem particularly close to anyone.

But as you all of you went into the more specialised aspects of your training and you and Roe spent more time together, he found himself looking out for you.

You were sitting alone on the grass after everyone had groaned and walked off the moment you started talking about an article you read in a magazine.

You sigh sadly, pulling at the grass when a shadow falls over you.

Bringing up a hand to block the sun you finally recognize who it is. It's Eugene Roe.

"I, uh, I was wondering if I could sit with you?" he asked.

You nodded excitedly and he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"What was it you were telling the others?"

You gasped "You really want to know?"

"I guess…"

Doc had seen everyone walk away, and although he didn't care much for mindless conversation, he knew talking to people meant a lot to you and had come over to cheer you up.

Without missing a beat you began one of your famous tirades.

By the end of your first year in Toccoa you end up finding your place.

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment and reblog if you want❤️

[sonyaheaneyauthor]

Tulsi Gabbard’s history with Russia is even more concerning than you think

“What happened in Syria is what allowed the Russians to feel that they could do the very same in Ukraine,” he said.

“And what she is doing with Ukraine shows that it goes beyond her maybe misunderstanding one conflict. She is, hook, line and sinker, a Russian puppet.”

In the summer of 2015, three Syrian girls who had narrowly survived an airstrike some weeks earlier stood before Tulsi Gabbard with horrific burns all over their bodies.

Gabbard, then a US congresswoman on a visit to the Syria-Turkey border as part of her duties for the foreign affairs committee, had a question for them.

“How do you know it was Bashar al-Assad or Russia that bombed you, and not Isis?’” she asked, according to Mouaz Moustafa, a Syrian activist who was translating her conversation with the girls.

It was a revealing insight into Gabbard’s conspiratorial views of the conflict, and it shocked Moustafa to silence. He knew, as even the young children did, that Isis did not have jets to launch airstrikes. It was such an absurd question that he chose not to translate it because he didn’t want to upset the girls, the eldest of whom was 12.

“From that point on, I’m sorry to say I was inaccurate in my translations of anything she said,” Moustafa told The Independent. “It was more like: How do I get these girls away from this devil?”

Even before Gabbard left the Democratic Party, ingratiated herself with Donald Trump and secured his nomination to become director of National Intelligence, she was known as a prolific peddler of Russian propaganda.

In almost every foreign conflict in which Russia had a hand, Gabbard backed Moscow and railed against the US. Her past promotion of Kremlin propaganda has provoked significant opposition on both sides of the aisle to her nomination.

Her journey from anti-war Democrat to Moscow-friendly Maga warrior began in Syria. The devastating conflict was sparked by pro-democracy uprisings in 2011, which were brutally crushed by the Assad regime. It descended into a complex web of factions that drew extremist Islamists from around the world and global powers into the fray.

The Syrian Observatory for Human Rights (SOHR), a UK-based monitoring group with a network of sources on the ground, documented the deaths of 503,064 people by March 2023. It said at least 162,390 civilians had died in that same time, with the Syrian government and its allies responsible for 139,609 of those deaths.

But Gabbard, a veteran of the Iraq War, viewed it all as a “regime-change war” fueled by the West and aimed at removing the dictator from power. She saw Assad – and Russia, when it entered the conflict – as legitimate defenders of the state against an extremist uprising.

In 2015, when Russia entered the Syrian war on the side of the dictator Assad, Gabbard expressed support for the move, even as the civilian toll from Moscow’s devastating airstrikes grew into the thousands.

“Al-Qaeda attacked us on 9/11 and must be defeated. Obama won’t bomb them in Syria. Putin did. #neverforget911,” she wrote on Twitter.

It was precisely because of her support for Assad and Russia’s war that Moustafa was keen for her to attend the congressional delegation to southern Turkey to meet the victims of the conflict.

“From experience, everyone that we bring over to the border, and they see the victims, they always come back with a realistic view of what’s happening and who is behind the mass displacement and killing and atrocities and so on, and so that was the objective,” he said. “What was shocking was her lack of empathy. She’ll sacrifice the facts, even when it came to little girls in front of her telling her they got bombed by a plane – it didn’t matter.”

Charles Lister, a senior fellow at the Middle East Institute who testified twice on Syria to the House Foreign Affairs Committee when Gabbard was a member, spent years debunking her various conspiracy theories about the war.

“Her consistent denial of the Syrian regime’s crimes is so wildly fringe that her potential appointment as DNI is genuinely alarming,” he told The Independent.

Lister said her views “appear to be driven by a strange fusion of America First isolationism and a belief in the value of autocratic and secular leaders in confronting extremism.”

They included a suggestion that Syrian rebels staged a false-flag chemical weapons attack against their supporters to provoke Western intervention against Assad — something the US intelligence agencies she will soon lead had concluded was false. She declined to call Assad a war criminal when pressed, despite masses of evidence, and used a video of Syrian government bombings to criticize US involvement in the war.

“Her descriptions of the crisis in Syria read like they were composed in Assad’s personal office, or in Tehran or Moscow – not Washington,” Lister added.

Gabbard was not swayed by meeting the victims of Assad’s airstrikes in 2015. In fact, two years later, she went to Damascus to meet the Syrian president in person and came away even more convinced of her opinions.

The congresswoman said her visit to meet Assad – the first by a sitting US lawmaker since the conflict began – was aimed at bringing an end to the war.

“I felt it’s important that if we profess to truly care about the Syrian people, about their suffering, then we’ve got to be able to meet with anyone that we need to if there is a possibility that we could achieve peace,” she told CNN at the time.

Fire rises following a Syrian government airstrike in Aleppo in 2016 (AP)

Gabbard was forced to defend her embrace of Assad and other dictators during her 2020 run for the Democratic presidential nomination. During the Democratic primary debate, she clashed with Kamala Harris, who accused her of being “an apologist for an individual – Assad – who has murdered the people of his country like cockroaches.”

“She has embraced and been an apologist for him in a way that she refuses to call him a war criminal. I can only take what she says and her opinion so seriously and so I’m prepared to move on,” added Harris, who would subsequently drop out of the race and later be selected as Joe Biden’s running mate.

When Russia invaded Ukraine, Gabbard again defended Russian aggression.

“This war and suffering could have easily been avoided if Biden Admin/Nato had simply acknowledged Russia’s legitimate security concerns,” she posted on Twitter in 2022.

Gabbard appeared to fall for various conspiracy theories about the conflict that were promoted by Russia, as she had done in Syria. One of those conspiracy theories was a Russian claim about the existence of dozens of US-funded biolabs in Ukraine that were supposedly producing deadly pathogens.

She later walked back on those remarks, suggesting that there might have been some “miscommunication and misunderstanding.”

Gabbard’s frequent echoing of Kremlin talking points has earned her praise in Russian state media. Indeed, an article published on 15 November in the Russian-state controlled outlet RIA Novosti went so far as to call Gabbard a “superwoman.”

The possibility that Trump would tap someone with Gabbard’s history to be America’s top intelligence official shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who followed the president-elect’s first four years in the White House.

During his 2018 summit with President Vladimir Putin in Helsinki, the then-president was asked if he believed the US intelligence community’s assessment, which stated that Russia had interfered in the 2016 presidential election on his behalf.

That assessment was based on analysis of what was determined to have been state-sponsored campaigns of fake social media posts and ersatz news sites to spread false stories about his Democratic opponent, Hillary Clinton, as well as cyberattacks targeting the Democratic National Committee and prominent operatives associated with the Clinton campaign.

But Trump, who’d just spent several hours in a closed-door meeting with Putin, stunned the assembled press and the entire world by declaring that he trusted the Russian leader’s word over that of his own advisers.

​​"President Putin says it’s not Russia. I don’t see any reason why it would be," he replied.

Trump would go on to repeatedly clash with his own intelligence appointees during the remainder of his term. He sacked his first DNI, former Indiana senator Dan Coats, after Coats repeatedly declined to back away from the government’s assessment of what Russia had done during the 2016 presidential race.

Larry Pfeiffer, the director of George Mason University’s Hayden Center for Intelligence, Policy, and International Security, said Gabbard’s apparent susceptibility to foreign disinformation and her affinity for strongmen will give pause to American allies with whom the US routinely shares intelligence on common threats.

Intelligence services, he explained, are notoriously territorial and tight-lipped on sources and methods – particularly when it comes to so-called human intelligence, or Humint, which refers to information collected by and from spies and sources within hostile governments.

Pfeiffer said foreign allies are likely already concerned about how a second Trump administration will handle intelligence, given the president-elect’s record. He also predicted that Gabbard’s confirmation as DNI would cause even more problems among skittish partners.

“I think they wouldn’t feel like they’ve got an American confidant that they can deal with on a mature level,” he said. “I can guarantee you that the foreign intelligence services of Europe, including the Brits, are all having little side conversations right now about … what is this going to mean, and how are we going to operate, and what are we going to do now.”

Gabbard has taken the side of Syria’s Bashar al-Assad as well as the Russian president (AP)

The former US intelligence veteran also said Gabbard’s record of spreading foreign talking points calls into question whether she will be able to carry out the DNI’s important responsibility of briefing the president on threats to the nation.

He told The Independent: “Somebody like Tulsi Gabbard, you look at her long history of statements that seem to come out of the Kremlin’s notebook, her propensity to be influenced by their viewpoint – [it] raises questions as to whether she has the ability to present the intel community’s perspective as it is, or is she going to be one who’s going to want to discount it, influence it, color and change it, or ignore it and just present her own view?

“I think it also raises questions of judgement. You know, here’s an individual who seems very prone to misinformation, prone to conspiracy theory. That should worry anybody who’s worried about America’s national security,” he added.

Trump’s selection of the former Hawaii congresswoman could be a problem for the senators tasked with confirming her, on several different levels. For one, the position is unique among cabinet agencies in that there are strict requirements for who can serve in the director’s role.

The text of the 2004 law which established the Office of the Director of National Intelligence in the wake of the 9/11 terror attacks on New York and Washington and the intelligence community’s failures leading up to the US invasion of Iraq, specifically states that any person who serves in the DNI job “shall have extensive national security expertise.”

The first person to serve as DNI, John Negroponte, was a widely respected foreign service veteran who had served as US ambassador to Iraq, Mexico, Honduras and the Philippines, as the country’s ambassador to the United Nations, and as a deputy national security adviser during the Reagan administration. The next three people to hold the office were flag-rank military officers with significant intelligence experience.

Pfeiffer, a US intelligence veteran of three decades’ standing who once ran the White House Situation Room and served as chief of staff to then-CIA director General Michael Hayden, told The Independent that Gabbard’s experience in the House and her military service, while admirable, do not match the standards envisioned by the authors of the 2004 law which established the office.

“That’s national security experience … but she was a freaking military cop … operating at a largely tactical level, not that strategic, long-term national security perspective that one would expect,” he said.

Gabbard may have left the Syrian conflict behind, but Moustafa still works with its victims every day. And he believes the connection between her views on Syria and Ukraine is clear.

“What happened in Syria is what allowed the Russians to feel that they could do the very same in Ukraine,” he said.

“And what she is doing with Ukraine shows that it goes beyond her maybe misunderstanding one conflict. She is, hook, line and sinker, a Russian puppet.”

[imaginespazzi]

We finally got to watch UConn WBB play and as always I have thoughts!

I'm ngl, I almost jumped off a cliff after that first quarter but I'm very glad I didn't because the rest of the game didn't actually make me want to kms!

We'll start with the obvious which is: PAIGE. BUECKERS. NATIONAL. PLAYER. OF. THE. YEAR. 27 points on 12-14 (!!) shooting and 9 rebounds. My double-double prediction (even if it was point/assists) was almost true and really she should have had more assists but as the story goes, her team sold her dimes as per usual. But the main thing is don't let no fucking list fool you, PAIGE BUECKERS IS THE BEST FUCKING PLAYER ON THE PLANET.

I told y'all Kaitlyn was gonna get the first points didn't I? AND SHE DID!! In general I thought she was really good and everything I expected her to do well, she did. She's a great veteran presence and I think she's really gonna raise her draft stock at UConn

YEE FUCKING HAW. ASHLYNN SHADE THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. I said four 3's, she gave me 3 but the main thing is that her feet did move one defense!! She was aggressive on both sides of the ball and my favorite part of her stat sheet is the 4 steals. Feeling like a proud mom about my sophomore.

Sarah Strong YOU are my NFOY. I was so impressed with her and I knew she'd be good but I think she was even better than expected. The 3s didn't fall today but I very much do expect them to eventually fall and when they do, well it's basically game over!

Jana's hustle is going to pay dividends. She's aggressive and as soon as she's able to do that in a more controlled manner that doesn't lead to fouls, it's going to be something special. She and the team have both got to work to make sure she's getting up more shots though.

Allie baby 2-10 from 3...where's that girl from first night go? But I'm actually not that mad about it. Partly because she's simply just not gonna have the opportunity to do that again and also because I actually like that she keeps on shooting and doesn't let it phase her. The defense definitely needs a fair amount of work.

And finally Ice....*sigh* girlie GET IN THE FUCKING PAINT. Listen it wasn't all bad and I thought she was okay on defense and at least she did grab rebounds but like oh my god PLEASE JUST GET IN THE FUCKING PAINT. Maybe it's a confidence thing, maybe it's that she wants to be a wing but she just needs to get in the paint

I really liked our effort to rebound today. I won't read too much into it because it's a D2 team and we're taller than everyone but hustle can be translated and I hope to see it against better opponents too.

What I really didn't like is how stagnant the offense started off and how stagnant it got a couple of times, especially when Paige was out. But that's a new team thing and it's going to take some time to mesh it all together for 40 minutes and while it's not great right now, I see a lot of potential.

Final thought, y'all see my girl in warmups? MY AZZI BAHAMAS AGENDA IS IN FULL EFFECT!!

[skittlespizza]

If fear and hunger guys had tumblr:

💰 veteran-funger Follow

Hey! Did you know the dungeons of Fear and Hunger have treasure in them! For the low price of 50 gold, I'll sell you a treasure map. Dm me on discord thanks.

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus I'll be back in a few weeks! Love you!

🍇 celeste-on-hiatus Follow

What.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I fucking hate le'garde. He keeps on having holy crusades for "Alll-mer" or something. MY WIFE AND CHILD DIED. I hate him so much. I want him dead. Sorry for the vent. It's been a tough week. I am going to track him down and kill him with my bare hands.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde isn't that bad. Calm down, the crusades had a purpose. Stop being parasocial about a guy you don't even know? Sorry about your wife but you gotta get over it. You're a full grown man.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I added "Le'garde apologists" to my DNI, leave me alone freak. Go and kiss Le'garde's ass somewhere else.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

I will! You know, they say Le'garde is in the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger?! Yeah. I'm going there. Fuck you. I'll save his ass and send you pics of us together.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey guys I'll be at the dungeons of fear and hunger for a bit.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey do you guys like my dog?

💀 old-night Follow

That ain't a dog. It has twice the amount of eyes??

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Her name is moonless <3

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus how do we feel about another kid?

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

On the way to save my cutesy bf! Wish me luck!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Found some people in a cave.. gonna talk to them. Maybe they'd like to hear about alll-mer. I don't think they've left this cave before :)!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Um.. they did not like alll-mer. In other words, a blue haired guy and a small girl saved me! Wish us luck. And yes guys, i do love legarde. Idk what "comphet" is? Sorry. Is that an old god? I read about that in a book.

🌚 rher Follow

Comphet is an old god, yeah. He's the old god of denial.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Oh thanks!

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Today I almost died as a sacrifice. Though, I stopped it because I had a vision. Apparently something inside the dungeons of Fear and Hunger is waiting for me. I'll update my blog as I continue on.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

I hear screaming. Dogs barking and a man crying. I'm reading.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Something broke through the wall. I'm reading. Lots of information to bring back.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Can't get fucking quiet in this dungeon. Gonna have to leave this library and find a new one. People are so inconsiderate sometimes.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day one dungeons of fear and hunger. They gave me rotten flesh as food. Not befitting for a man such as I.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day two, dungeons of fear and hunger. They chained me up and this rather large man has been watching me. Help?

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I hear footsteps. Maybe someone's coming to save me!

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I think the guard died.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I lived bitch.

🗡 cumhara Follow

Well I left the dungeons. No treasure but I got a kid I guess.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Still reading.

🔮 nosramus-blogs Follow

Still reading.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

How to do necromancy

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why doesn't he love me

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

What is a "lesbian"

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why do i like when i see girls kissing

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde is dead.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Leaving dungeons now. I didn't save le'garde but i found out i was a lesbian.

[yutahoes]

Fanboy

Putting this out here before I disappear because of responsibilities. Second part of Fangirl, it is better to read this first before diving into this fic to have some context. The whole idea is from @a-place-filled-with-random I'm sorry this took too long to write. I forgot I had this in my drafts. I also tried to make it very platonic but how can I when it's Yuta Nakamoto?

Also, please imagine Mamamoo as the group and Y/N as Wheein. I'll try to make sense of it, I promise.

pairing:sunbae! idol! Yuta Nakamoto x rookie! idol! female! Y/N word count: 3.5k words genre: fluff summary: How do you have lunch with a fangirl of yours?

How do you have lunch with a fangirl of yours? 

Yuta had been asking that question to himself since he woke up that morning. No scratch that, he had been asking that question ever since he invited her to lunch. 

Obviously, he can't ask anyone from his group or he’ll just get their teasings. Why would he, a veteran idol, get so nervous with a lunch meal with a hoobae? His legs kept bouncing up and down under the table of a homey Korean restaurant, their usual hang-out place when their group wanted some privacy. This is so different from the confident Yuta on screen, Y/N might just get turned off. 

But his smile grew wider as he saw her enter the restaurant - in her hoodie, cap, dark sunglasses, and mask. The girl was crouching down, making herself appear smaller, but it still took some of the customer’s attention. Yuta laughed to himself, she’s very cute. A breath of fresh air.   

“I’m sorry,” she quickly said, pushing the cap closer to herself. “I don’t want to attract attention but…”

Yuta smiled, “You can ditch the disguise.” 

The girl lightly stared at him in disbelief and he nodded, smiling warmly. “Will you be alright, though?” She asked while removing the cap and glasses, she took off the mask while glancing around and he grinned. “I don’t want you to be involved in a scandal.” 

“It’s just lunch, Y/N.” He claimed then gestured to the server for the menu. “They never cared here.” Yuta glanced outside the small window, seeing her manager entering the car. “Is your manager not joining us?” 

The girl shook her head, “Oppa had to pick up leader unnie from a variety show.” She thanked the server who gave them the menu before looking at the selection of Korean cuisine. “Wow!” she exclaimed quietly then stopped herself when she realized that the person in front of her heard her. 

Yuta had to smile at that, she’s very endearing. “Please order whatever you want.” Her eyes were laser-focused on the menu. The guy was frustrated that there wasn't any information on what her favorite food was, the closest thing that he found about her was that she wanted to eat a home-cooked Korean meal. Luckily for him, he knew a place.   

She ordered kimchi jjigae and Yuta ordered galbi jjim. “That was the dish you cooked with Taeyong sunbae during NCT Life.” Yuta was surprised and she looked startled as well. “I’m sorry that sounds so stalkerish.” 

The guy shook his head, preventing himself from laughing. “You’ve been a fan for that long?” 

“Even during SM Rookies,” she claimed. “I first saw you at an Exo content. Was it Hope with Chanyeol sunbae?” Yuta covered his mouth in astonishment. That long ago? He was so young back then, a predebut video of him. He wasn't even that cool back then. “My classmates were Exo-Ls and I just saw the MV because of them.”  

“You’re not an Exo-L?”

She shook her head, “NCT is the first idol group I stan.” Yuta gave her a questioning look as if he could not believe her and she just nodded, smiling at him. “I was struggling to play guitar back then and I saw you in the MV.” 

Yuta closed his eyes in embarrassment, “You do know that I only know the basics of guitar and sunbae just taught me the proper position of fingers for C.” The girl laughed at that. “God, this is embarrassing.” 

Y/N shook her head, smiling. “I think you’re really cool, sunbae.” And that means a lot. 

The meal was great and Y/N obviously enjoyed it a lot. He didn’t know she could be a foodie like Jungwoo. Lunch dates with her would be great. 

Yuta shook his head. Did he call it a date? No, this is just a simple lunch. And dates? It would be a miracle to ask her out again. “Are you currently busy?” he asked. There had been rumors of their group making a comeback. Not that Yuta was watching their every action but he stumbled on the article when searching for her name. Again, it’s not watching her every action. He’s just nervous about the lunch date. 

He hissed at himself. Date? He must be out of his mind. 

The girl nodded, “We’re preparing for a comeback.” Then she sighed. “I think this is our make or break. President wants us to try something new.” Yuta then remembered the past two concepts they had, mostly of a cute image. And with the spur of girl groups doing the same concept, they don’t practically stand out among the competition. “It’s a huge shift, I’m scared I might not do great and the unnies would hate me for ruining this for them.” She stopped, realizing that she said a lot but the older one smiled warmly. “I’m sorry.” 

Yuta shook his head, “Is that the only trouble you have?” 

The smile on his face kept growing as she shared her frustrations about not doing so much for the group. She’s just the ‘maknae’ while the others have notable jobs such as the main vocalist, main dancer, and main rapper. She’s also scared that she’s the only one who was second-guessing the concept because she feels like she cannot do a huge shift like this. 

“More than being great at one thing, I think being good at many things is better. And you are immensely talented, Y/N.” Yuta claimed that made her shake her head. “I think you’re just too shy to step out of your comfort zone.” From the interviews and shows that he had watched, Yuta noticed how introverted she was. She would rather hide on the sides and when the spotlight is on herself, the look of panic is present on her face. It’s endearing for her young age. It’s cute. But the concept is not something she could keep in the long run. 

And with her shyness, she might just miss a lot of opportunities. “You are now an idol. You passed one of the toughest challenges which is debuting.” The girl listened intently, “And I’m pretty sure you have something special in you that completes your team.” A concept Yuta had learned late in his idol career. “Now, you have to work hard for your teammates and your fans.” 

The younger smiled, nodding while thanking him. “I’m glad I stanned you, sunbae.” Yuta had to laugh loudly at that. “Every rookie idol should have a cool sunbae like you.” His laugh grew louder at that. 

Y/N kept on insisting that she should pay for her share but Yuta kept on shaking his head, claiming that it was him who asked her to have a meal with him on her work off. It was a great lunch. Yuta was reminded of the time when he was a rookie idol and all the amazing sunbaes were treating them to a meal. Now, he wanted to return the favor to rookie idols. “Then, I’ll treat you to a meal on my first paycheck.” 

“Treat yourself first,” he claimed with a chuckle. “How about the fifth paycheck? I’ll keep my schedule open.” The girl giggled at that. “Thank you for making time to have lunch with me, Y/N. I appreciate it.” 

The girl’s eyes widened in surprise then shook her head while bowing down. “No, sunbae. I’m more grateful that you invited me out.” She reasoned out then bowed once again. “This is like the ultimate fan experience. Thank you, Yuta sunbae.” 

Yuta smiled. It is. 

After waiting for her manager to come back and greet the leader of their group, Yuta heads out to his own car with a wide smile on his face. He exhaled loudly once inside while opening the music player in his car, a ballad version of Kick It with guitar strumming can be heard. He sang along with the lyrics of the song, even stopping when the warm female voice stopped. He probably knows this version more than he knows their own song. 

The same with each and every song covers, he could still remember her username by heart. He first discovered it during his Vlives. She would always notice her username and comment about how cool he is or just a simple thank you. Then when he started Instagram, the same username would pop up in his comments with praises. He was curious if this was a genuine fan of his so he checked the profile and stumbled upon song covers of their songs. A female with a warm voice. A Czennie, no doubt. But what fascinated Yuta was the fact that she was also a Yutami. She even advertises his work better than the company. 

He had found a certain comfort in her covers that he started downloading it, even waiting for new releases every week. He wanted to hint to the agency about the gem he found and maybe they could scout her. Then it suddenly stopped, the weekly song covers were gone as well as the comments and her account. 

For some time, he even thought that maybe she was just his fever dream. But the saved audio files were his proof that this person was indeed real. He assumed there was no way he could see her again then Jaehyun showed him a video of a rookie idol who sent Yuta a confession which left him surprised. The girl from Instagram. Y/N. 

But the idol world is a huge industry so even though he was glad that she debuted as an idol, Yuta was worried that there wouldn’t be any chance to meet her, or even see her. 

A chance came when the elder members of NCT started doing a content in a nail salon. Yuta was fidgeting hearing Johnny and Taeyong talking to her so he just casually passed by. They were introduced and the first thing he thought was how she kept avoiding his gaze. Unfortunately, they had to move locations so they had to leave. 

It must be the faeries, Yuta thought, that he forgot his airpods in the nail salon so he had to come back and look for them. But as he opened the door, he saw Y/N crying on an older man’s shoulder. Gently, he closed the door while sighing hard. Is it because of him? Was he so cold that he scared her off? Great Yuta, she wouldn’t be your fangirl now! 

When ISAC came, another chance to see her, Yuta had to force the whole group to stay and watch the archery competitions. He even told Jaehyun about her looking so lost and looking for a chair to sit on. He didn’t expect the guy would just stand up and let her sit next to him. Now, he’s twice as nervous. All the teasing from his teammates doesn’t help as well that he only felt bad when she just left without looking bad. Maybe he scared her off once again. 

At a speed he never thought he’d ever experience, he dashed to the small booth by the back and ordered a sandwich. She did say she’s on a diet so this might be good. While waiting for the ahjumma to finish his order, he started scribbling on a piece of paper. A number that became his way to have this small lunch with an artist he admired the most. 

—--

All her worries about the concept of their new song were easily well-understood when the music video came out. (Think of this as the music video) It’s a huge shift, a cool mature concept. And what was that song with a lot of innuendos? But the sound is amazing for showcasing Y/N’s voice. She doesn’t need to strain her vocals just to sound cutesy. Instead, her voice sounds more fitting in these classy sounds. Yuta had to gasp when the middle of the song came up and the music video showed Y/N kissing the male model in the music video. So this was the concept they were going for? It really is a huge shift. 

He could easily message her and congratulate her for the comeback. But Yuta doesn’t know what to say. Should he ask her out and ask her what she thinks of their comeback? Maybe she liked it. It truly is their make or break. But in their case, the new song propelled their careers into a household name. Maybe it was the performance of the song that made it viral, they were singing live at festivals. And real well at that. Their performances were also very musical-like and they got wide recognition as a very talented group. Y/N could have gotten her first paycheck already. 

The first time Yuta had a chance to see her again was at a special episode of one music broadcast. Since they’re still promoting their song and NCT was invited as the main act, he’ll surely see her in one way or another. Maybe they can have a small chat and he could praise her for their amazing song. But Jungwoo was already greeting them before he could utter a word when their groups passed each other in the hallways. “Your song was really catchy.” The younger NCT member complimented as the girls giggled and thanked him. “I’m surprised when Y/N kissed the actor in the MV.” 

The girl shyly smiled. “She cried that time,” the leader of her group teased. Y/N had to whine, shaking her head. “She must have been too nervous.” 

“That was a huge shift,” Johnny claimed. “I’m surprised Y/N agreed to do it.” 

The rapper of the group lightly glanced at the youngest member of their group before the main vocalist held her hair, smiling widely. “The president promised that if she agreed to this concept, they’ll release her written song for our next comeback.” So, she was coerced into this? Isn’t that illegal? 

“Oh,” Jaehyun exclaimed. “And what is that song about?” 

Yuta didn’t miss her small glance his way before smiling shyly, “I’m still working on it.”     

The girl group was called before Yuta could have a chance to congratulate her. 

Maybe next time. 

But that next time took too long. Both their groups had been so busy with schedules that there wasn’t a chance to cross paths with her once again. Yet Yuta was glad that Y/N’s group was invited to one of the year-end award shows NCT is also invited. It was a sure sign, being in these award shows, that your group had done well in the charts which their group had been achieving currently. And Yuta was again proud that their group will be showcasing their next comeback single in this award show — the song Y/N wrote. 

Artists were on one side of the stadium, seated around round tables designated for each group. Before the girl group could have a performance, a staff came asking Taeyong if Y/N could sit with their group for their performance to which he nodded. The girl was apologetic as she came to the table with the staff, reasoning that among the groups in attendance, she was more at ease with NCT. Yuta smiled, that is great. At least his group comforts her rather than makes her awkward. 

“Congratulations on the new song!” Johnny claimed. “We’re excited to hear it.” 

She covered her mouth as she laughed, “Please don’t expect too much.” Then she shivered a bit. 

“Are you alright? Do you feel cold?” Haechan, who was sitting beside her, asked. 

The girl shook her head. “I was feeling under the weather.” Then she smiled. “We must go to Japan tomorrow so I must be better.” 

“You should go to the hospital first,” Yuta claimed, staring at her intently. She does look a little pale. And the very little clothing she has doesn’t even help with the cold. She should have worn thicker clothes with more fabric to cover her skin if she’s feeling sick. “Or at least drink some medicine.” 

“I’m fine, sunbae.” She claimed then smiled. “I’ll ask manager oppa to take me to the hospital later.” 

Before Yuta could mutter another word, the lights dimmed and the music for the song played. (Think of this as the performance) It was more upbeat, more funky. Both the leader and main vocal of their group started singing while interacting with the audience. They made their way to the artist’s section to pick up the rapper of the group seated at one of the girl group’s tables. The main vocal of the group was the one who held her hand out for Y/N as they were both shown on th screen with wide smiles on their faces. The group continued their singing while interacting with the artists. 

It was a really fun song, Yuta had to note. While the girls walk to the extended stage, facing the artist, that is when he fully grasps the meaning of the song. It’s about a guy. Is it a lovesong? Y/N started shouting to hype the crowd making everyone at their table giddily laugh. “She’s so cute!” Haechan commented while Doyoung leaned in to whisper, “He’s just like you, hyung.” 

When the chorus came and they talked about a guy with a pretty smile, Yuta was confused about why Y/N pointed at him. But his co-members obviously saw that and teased him about it. “Is the song about you, hyung?” Jungwoo asked. “And Y/N was the one who wrote it, right?” Taeyong continued.

Yuta shrugged before smiling secretly. It's not possible.

Instead of pondering over it, he was just in awe at how she handled all her adlibs while feeling sick. He’s more proud to see her professionally conquering the stage and even doing her best despite her condition. Her voice was so clear and notes in perfect pitch that made her so admirable. A true idol. Yuta can’t help but just be in awe at how talented she is.

But she should really see the doctor after this. With their busy schedule, she’ll probably just get more sick. The moment all the artists came to the stage for the last song, he noticed that she was missing from the group. Casually, he made his way to the leader of her group, inquiring about it. “Manager oppa asked her to take a rest.” She answered politely with a slight smile on her face. Yuta just nodded, thanking her then returned to his group. That was better, letting her rest. But surely, that’s not enough right? 

—---

“You’re crazy, you know that right?” Yuta’s manager asked as he wore the sunglasses. With a smirk on his face, he just nodded and held the four paper bags in his left hand and the album in his right hand. The venue isn’t as crowded as when their group is, but he’s somewhat glad their group is getting traction here in Tokyo. Since he had to chase their schedule, he was the last person in line for the fanmeet. The teenage girls in front of him were talking to themselves and he just greeted them politely. Maybe he had the wrong disguise. But it’s the classic black cap and facemask, and black sunglasses. Is it too much? 

The leader of the group was the first member Yuta interacted with. He handed her one of the paper bags before whispering to not alert anyone. The girl was just smiling knowingly and the second girl, the rapper of the group, was the one who claimed, “Y/N will have a blast seeing you here.” The main vocalist was also interacting with him and Yuta noticed how the youngest of the group was just focused on the person in front of her. Did she notice him already? 

When he sat in front of her, she gasped which made him giggle. “Sunbae, what are you doing here?” She asked then glanced at her groupmates who were just watching the two of them with smiles on their faces. “I didn’t know you’re also here in Japan,” she claimed after greeting him politely, covering her mouth in astonishment as she spoke. Yuta handed her the paper bag full of medicine and supplements that he got from an oriental hospital on the way then placed the album on the table for her to sign. 

“Are you feeling any better?” The girl nodded as she signed the album. “I’m glad.” The girl smiled before handing him the album. 

“This feels weird." He raised an eyebrow at that. "You, sitting in front of me.” 

Yuta laughed wholeheartedly. “Why? I’m a fan.” Y/N smiled shyly. “There’s a great seafood restaurant nearby. I can get you a reservation easily. Should I ask your manager?” 

The girl lightly glanced at the staff behind her and then at her groupmates. “Then sunbae, do you want to have lunch together?” Yuta was taken aback by the question. “I did promise to treat you for a meal.” 

He slowly nodded, considering the pros and cons of having lunch together in a foreign country. “Yeah, sure.” The sides of her lips curled up. “I’ll just wait for you to finish your schedule.” She nodded, thanking him once again before waving goodbye. 

Yuta went down the stage and walked into the backstage where the staff was attending to him. He removed his cap and mask before breathing hard. There’s only one question in his mind at this moment. 

How do you have lunch with an idol that you admire and are a huge fan of?  Author's Note: I really like Mamamoo's songs and whenever I hear 'You're the best', I am reminded of Yuta because of that "Guy with a pretty smile" and "Guy whose thoughts were dashing" line. Then Moonbyul's line "I'm your eternal girl fan" feels very fitting to the story. So this is very self-indulgent. But let me know your thoughts on this.

[batmanschmatman]

Book Rec: Coming Out Under Fire, by Allan Bérubé

Occasionally I see some discourse on Tumblr from folks in the HBO War fandom or different historical/history adjacent fandoms about how there weren’t that many members of the queer community involved in WWII, and I’d really like to point them and everyone else with an interest in queer history to this wonderful book. Originally published in 1990, Coming Out Under Fire gets into all the different ways queer folks DID participate in the war. It’s from an American perspective, so if you’re looking for other Allied experiences, unfortunately there won’t be much here for you, but it’s exceptionally well researched, and crucially a lot of the content comes from interviews with surviving servicemembers. There’s also a documentary based on the book, which came out a few years later and includes video interviews with some of the folks included in the text.

One of Bérubé’s main points in his introduction – and for writing the book in the first place – is the American government, history textbooks, Hollywood, etc. is able to paint the WWII-era military as an almost entirely straight military force because many queer people who participated in the war effort were silenced during their lifetimes, and were unable or unwilling to reveal their true identities. Some of this was from societal pressure – the post war period saw a huge surge in homophobic rhetoric and persecution in the name of fighting Communism, not to mention the ever present heteronormative pressure to get married and have kids – but also because so many queer veterans died during the AIDS epidemic. Bérubé was inspired to preserve the voices of those who were still with us and shed a light on some of the folks we lost. (Note that this was also an intensely personal issue for Bérubé, who lost friends and his partner to AIDS and thus saw first hand how devastating this was to the community in terms of robbing us of our loved ones, friends, elders, and history itself.)

In the book, Bérubé makes the point over and over again that queer people were involved at basically every level in the American military during the war. There’s stories about guys lying when asked “Do you like girls?” during enlistment, lesbians in the Women’s Army Corps being brought to trial for fraternizing, drag shows in POW camps and in reserve, front line combat veterans discussing losing romantic partners to enemy fire or coming out to foxhole buddies, who were supportive allies rather than hateful. One of my favorite stories that’s always stuck out to me is a guy who came home and decided to come out to his elderly mother, who was fully accepting and supportive of her son’s sexuality. I see so many people speaking in absolutes that there’s NO WAY you could come out to your family and be accepted in the past, and while that was certainly true for so many people, it’s also not an absolute truth.

Please note I am NOT giving blanket permission to make assumptions about real-life people’s sexualities or identities, nor am I saying Band of Brothers fics where half the company is dating each other are historically accurate, but it’s really sad to see folks on here (unknowingly, hopefully) perpetuating the myth that there really weren’t that many queer folks in the military during WWII. We were there, we just couldn’t be out the way we might have liked to be. After the war, the Red Scare, societal pressure, and a literal epidemic silenced countless members of the community about their time in the service. There’s no way to know how many people who fought on Guadalcanal or worked at stateside bases or sorted mail in France were queer, but it’s a lot more than you were led to believe.

As a member of the community and a historian (brief resume: MA in Public History, BA in American History, have published stuff and created exhibits for dozens of museums), I just want to remind folks that we have always been here, and our lives weren’t always miserable and tragic when we came out to people or decided to live as authentically as we could get away with. It’s not completely historically inaccurate to write fic or original fiction where your queer characters can come out to their families and not be shunned, or live with their partners and not be immediately murdered. Being queer wasn’t invented at Stonewall.