#listened to ocean today which was *not smart*

[sickwithemotion]

ngl sometimes the inherent social isolation of being a lesbian makes me feel literally sick

[postracehair]

gold rush

max verstappen x reader | 2.4k

max verstappen stands across the room from you at someone else's party. he's not yours, but he could be.

cw: cursing, perhaps overly introspective, allusions to sex, kissing, semi-established relationship without commitment, confessions, being desperately in love with max

a/n: this is a little different from my usual style. i...wrote it in two parts while wine drunk and yearny and listening to gold rush by taylor swift on repeat. it's a lethal combo for a girl, let me tell you. posting in honor of today's qatar win. i really like this one. please be nice to me. <3

--

It's torture.

Standing here across the room, glass in hand, watching.

He just looks so fucking good.

"Fuck me," you mutter. Some deep, animalistic urge tells you to bite clean through the rim of your wine glass. Chew on the shards until they're sand and swallow them easy as anything. It would probably be less painful than what you're currently doing.

Watching.

The object of your scrutiny straightens almost imperceptibly. A minuscule lengthening of his spine invisible to anyone who isn't examining his every move. For someone who is watched more often than not, you're surprised he feels your eyes on him.

But he does.

Max Verstappen turns away from his conversation partner slightly, a barely there shift of his chin to glance around the room. Blue eyes like the fucking ocean or some other cliche you can't think of right now. His focus face, you've called it. That got him to laugh, once, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes driving your heart into a frenzy.

Evaluating, cataloging. Looking for the racing line and finding -- you.

Leaning back on the wall not ten yards from him, wine glass in hand.

You're going to heat it up with your palm holding it like that, he'd told you once. You have to hold the stem.

They teach you that in Monaco? you'd teased.

Flirtations. One of a hundred, a thousand. Nothing memorable for him, you tell yourself. Each conversation an axis-shifting event for you.

It's embarrassing, actually. To want someone this much. To be one of millions.

But you know. You know how he looks in an empty room, how he mutters to himself when he folds his laundry, how he straightens his shoes against the wall of every hotel room.

You know him.

Maybe that's why this is dangerous. You've got ammo, you've got evidence. You know that Max Verstappen is like the rest of the world. A boy who wanted desperately turned into a man who has everything. And still wants.

Is that what binds us all together? The depth of our longing?

Max finds your gaze and holds it. The girl he's talking to -- pretty, smart. You know her peripherally -- keeps speaking, hand not holding her drink waving in the air, eyes focusing somewhere above his hairline.

Lots of people make this mistake. It's all in his eyes, if you can stand to look at them. Everything he's feeling. A challange that, once met, melts into an open door. He'll show you everything if you just step over the threshold, invited or not. Sometimes all we want is someone to bang on the door when we're already in bed. Make us get up, come downstairs. There you are. I was waiting for you.

The eyes tell you everything. You take a long sip of your wine and he watches, jaw ticking. He didn't shave today. The light stubble makes him look older, though you know his heart. Fluttering like a boy's, yearning like a child's. He wants just like you do. If only you knew what and just how much.

I don't know what comes next, he said. His head in your lap, hair soft and golden between your fingers. What else is there?

So much, you said. You traced the line of his nose with the pad of your thumb. That's the best thing about it.

About what?

Life.

There is a world in which you came to this party together. Distant, fuzzy. You mussed his hair with your hands after begging him to leave the gel on the shelf. He kissed off your lipstick before you made it out the door. The steady beat of his heart under your palm in the doorway, a sure reminder of the dip he makes in the universe. Your center, always orbiting around him.

Reality is louder. More crowded, smells like champagne and burnt pastry. It's a room full of people where you can only look at one. Where he's looking back.

You jerk your chin towards the back hallway, the one the leads to the bathroom only the girls go to in pairs. To debrief, to prepare. A secret from the hostess meant for moments of reprieve. At the very least, you'll need one of those.

It you're lucky, one of those will come to you on two legs and stormy eyes.

Could you be imagining it? Wouldn't be the first time you lived in your head a little too long. But -- fuck. The dreams you've had. The way you've looked at your life and slotted him into it. It's almost too easy, a game with no stakes. But the buy in is steep, nonrefundable. How you got here is irrelevant. You have to pay up.

You wind your way through laughing people, velvet dresses and barely buttoned shirts. Sparkly eye shadow and satin bows, well-wishes and chaste kisses. 'Tis the damn season, indeed. 

The hallway is quiet. No one in the bathroom, the door hanging open, light off. You lean back on the wall, glass loose in your fingers. Eyes closed, wondering if you'll wake up somewhere else. Somewhere you want less, somewhere your blood isn't singing, isn't begging you to get closer to him.

"You look nice," Max says. Your lips curve into a smile, a smirk, a grimace. Are they not all the same around him? Teeth showing, muscles out of control. He bypasses all of your sense, worms his way into your bloodstream with just a word.

"Thanks," you manage. Eyes open, now, and fuck, you feel it. Right in the chest, like a punch that digs beneath your ribs and takes its pound of flesh.

Max looks good. You saw it from across the room but here, in front of you, you can see it more clearly.

There's something about him. A boyishness that remains around the eyes, the mouth. Hopeful mischief, maybe. Eternal youth, promise, faith.

God. This would all be so much easier if you weren't in love with him.

He studies you. Takes his time, gaze tracing the lines of your face. Your brows, your lashes. Nose, lips. Lips. His eyes stop there.

"You were staring," he says. Never one to back down from a challenge. Never one to let you off easy. It's a compliment, the way he drags you to the ring. Keep up with me, he's saying. Make it interesting.

"Yeah," you say, slowly. It drips out of your mouth, lingers in the air between you. "You look good."

His eyes flash. You're meeting his expectations. Always hard to live up to those, when the standard he holds himself to is so damn high. He expects you to climb up that mountain, too. If only to show that you're wiling to. That he's worth it. That you want to.

And he does look good. Max values honesty above most things, but his cheeks flush all the same. It's pretty, not that you'd tell him that. Maybe one more glass of wine and you would. It's not an original thought, far from it, but you reach for him all the same, liquid courage loading the barrel and cocking the gun.

You cup his cheek, thumb pressing to the corner of his mouth. Like a marionette with his strings cut, he sighs. You breath with him, leaning in. Everything else fades away, the world turning around the place where his skin touches yours. Palm on his stubbled cheek, eyes locked like you're moored to each other.

This is why you haven't let him go. Because it's like this. It's insane.

And Max knows it.

"What are we doing?" he whispers. His throat bobs and he looks unsure. Not an expression you've seen on him very often, but maybe that's the punchline.

This matters to him. Maybe as much as it matters to you. He leans into your palm and the fingers of one hand curl around your hips, pressing hard enough to bruise. He carefully tugs your wine glass from your grip and sets it on the thin table in the hall before crowding you agains the wall.

"I don't know," you whisper back. You're close enough that he must feel your breath on this lips. It's inexplicable, this feeling -- you should know. You've tried.

He reorients everything, you've said over and over again. It's like I'm seeing the world for the first time, but with him in it.

His breath is hot on your lips. "I need you," he says. "I --" He swallows. Pupils swelling, mouth set. You half expect him to pull on a racing suit and get in the car.

"Max," you manage. It's not a surprise, not really, but it stings the way that only the things you want can. "I--

"Nothing else is like this," he says, sounding more sure than you've ever heard. "No matter what, or who, it's not like this. I'm always thinking of you."

Something inside you crumples. Your very bones, maybe. Your heart, surely. He can't just say these things.

"Don't say if it you don't mean it," you manage. Your throat is thick, tears resting just behind your eyes. It makes sense to no one else, this love. This passion, this soul tie.

"I mean it," he says, voice steady. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask this of you, but I am. I'm asking."

Love me. Stick by me. Tell me you feel it, too.

You close your eyes again, but what appears behind your lids is no less than what's actually happening to you. This is the stuff of dreams, the deepest part of your heart that beats his name.

"I don't know how to do this," you whisper. His lips drag from your pulse point to your ear.

"Me neither," he replies. "But we have to try."

"I've wanted you for so long," you gasp. His fingers have snuck under the hem of your shirt, nails scratching up and down your back. "Max--"

Your name is a prayer on his tongue, a blessing, a benediction. A plea. You've never felt so safe as when he is at your altar.

"Let's go," he says. "Let's get out of here."

The where doesn't matter. The how, the why, the when. It doesn't matter.

Sometimes, things just happen the way they are supposed to. Lovers unite, reunite, and love. Is that not enough?

"Bet you say that to all the girls."

Your voice is hoarse, ragged. The opposite of his well-honed determination, his tunnel vision. You wanted this, didn't you? But you're stalling. Having and wanting are different.

"No," Max says. "Hey, look at me."

For all your talk, you keep doing anything he asks. It's so easy. You are so safe in his hands, even if they burn.

He presses his lips to the corner of your mouth and you open your eyes. Despite the drinks you watched him down they're clear. Ablaze with certainty.

"Max," you whisper. His nostrils flare.

"Just you," he says. "You have me. Just you."

He does this thing, when he's away. You bought him a keychain -- a lion, of course -- on a whim. Figured he'd throw it in a drawer somewhere and forget about it. But then he sent you a photo from a country you've never been to, holding up his keys, the lion dangling in the sunlight.

You get photos from all around the world, now.

Maybe...maybe, you can believe him. Maybe you can take. Maybe dreams can bleed into waking.

What else is there to do? His jaw ticks, lips parted as he exhales. You feel it, warm and shaky. That won't do.

The kiss doesn't surprise him. It's inevitable, a corner he's driven in his sleep, the finish line that always waits for him. Max always knows where he is going and maybe he knew you were on the way here, too.

And god, does he know how to kiss you. You're the one who leans in but he takes the wheel quickly, one hand pressing into your lower back under your shirt and the other dragging up your ribs to settle on your jaw. He licks into your mouth like there's a secret to find, like he can peel back your layers and find your heart in his palms, beating in time with his.

Nights in his bed, slow mornings watching him wake. Phone calls just to hear you breathe, texts and gifts and hints that, if you'd just say so, this could be more. This could be it.

But he's waited. You realize he's waited for you.

"You have me," you say, pulling away with a gasp. His lips chase yours, hovering so close that every word makes them brush. Your hands are woven in his hair, noses pressed together. Almost one person. "Max," you breathe. "You have me."

There are a thousand ways this could go wrong. Even if your world orbits around him, even if his heart is magnetized to yours, a star in the sky always pointing north -- reality is not so kind. It will be hard. No one will understand. People will want what you have, what you will hold dear for the rest of your life.

But it doesn't matter. Because Max -- a world champion, a boy who wanted who became a man who had everything -- is holding you. He smiles so wide it spreads to you, two smiles pressed together in the dim light of someone else's party.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay, let's go."

He kisses you once more, sloppy, teeth clacking, and grabs your hand. Out of the hall, through the party, barely a word for anyone else. Everybody wants you, you told him once. Hm, he'd said. I don't know about that.

But he gleams. He shines, flushed cheeks and bright eyes as he looks back to check that you're still there. Squeezing your hand in his, a man on a mission. Following that racing line all the way home, all eyes on him. But he knows where he's going.

Out of the party and onto the quiet street, breath floating up and away in excited puffs. Under the streetlight Max looks ethereal. Beautiful, boyish, in love. He's a dream come to life.

Your dream. Looking back at you like he's thinking the same.

He says your name like he's been looking everywhere and finally found you. Reaching the end of the road, throwing the door open and falling to his knees. An answer. The answer.

He kisses you on the empty street. You fall, and fall, and fall.

Together.

[distantdarlings]

A FAMILIAR ACHE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.2K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* It’s been a week since you broke up with your boyfriend, Theodore Nott, but the urge to resist him is getting harder and harder.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V) unprotected, mean!Theo, dom!Theo, sub!Reader, fem reader, oral (f!receiving), (1) spank, very light bondage, degradation, bit of praise, name-calling, choking (f!receiving), descriptions of fem masturbation (but no actual), slight voyeruism, Theo keeps pushing even when the reader says no (but she’s mainly just teasing him, not actually disinterested), language, not proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey (have I already used this song?)

- - -

You were fucked. Absolutely, totally, royally fucked. Everything that had led up to this moment implied that you’d be totally okay without Theo. But you were so very wrong.

It had been a week since you’d broken it off with him. His flirtatious, possessive nature had finally pushed you to your limit, and you’d called it quits.

You had thought you’d be okay, but you were wrong. You needed him—more now than you ever did before. The ache that filled your chest and your stomach and everything in between was becoming too much to bear. He was a jerk, but he was your jerk. And, right now, you were fidgeting in class from the amount of desire coursing through your veins. And it was all due to the boy sitting across from you.

He was watching you with those oceanic eyes, just as he always did—with a lidded, demanding stare. And if the two of you were still together, you would know that it meant you would be begging for mercy later today. But you weren’t together, and he was only doing it now to fuck with you.

He obviously hadn’t wanted to break up. That day, he’d sworn that he’d change everything about him you didn’t like. But you’d heard that lie one too many times. Every time you threatened to leave him, he pulled up that old story. That he loved you and would do whatever it took to keep you. But he’d proven time and time again that he was incapable of keeping his eyes and hands off other girls.

You knew that this was the right thing to have done, but you couldn’t help it. The want he forced into you was too much. You were too weak to handle it.

But you couldn’t break—you couldn’t run back to him like you did every single time. It was pathetic, how much you depended on him. And the way he looked at you now, he knew that you’d be coming home soon.

By the time the professor was announcing the end of class and you were gathering your things to head back to your dorm, Theo was brushing past you like he hadn’t even known you.

You were shocked at his nonchalance toward you and barely was able to keep your jaw from flying open. You almost wanted to say something to him, but you kept your mouth shut.

He was obviously just trying to get under your skin. The shitty thing was that it seemed to be working so far.

You cleared your throat and attempted to hide the blush on your cheeks by staring down at the floor as you got ready to leave the room.

If he was waiting for you to come sprinting back to him, he’d be disappointed. He was going to have to come back to you this time, or you would be done with him permanently. Besides, the only way you’d ever actually take him back now, was if he truly changed his ways—which was unlikely.

You rolled your eyes at the effect the stupid boy was having on you before deciding to head back to the dorm. With the heat that was running through your body, you figured it’d be smart just to take the rest of the day off.

Perhaps Theo was burning just as much for you as you were him. That thought kept you a bit calmer as you stopped before the entrance to your dormitory, whispered the password, then pushed through.

You jogged up the stairs with nothing but your bed and Theo in your mind. Unfortunately, that tended to usually be what was on your mind when your head was whirling and your stomach was hot.

No one else would be in the dorm at this time of day. One locked door and a slip beneath your satin sheets would have you completely set for the next few days.

As pathetic as it was, you had been insanely dependent on Theo in more than one way. Besides emotionally, no one had ever taken such perfect care of you sexually…and you feared that no one ever would.

It was almost as if he knew your body more than even you did. But you were just going to have to work for now.

You burst through the door of your dorm, murmured a quick locking spell, and sprinted toward your bed. All of your things dropped from your hands in the wake of your rushing body, clattering loudly and echoing like a drum. But nothing compared to the volume of your heart pounding in your ears.

A quick glance around the room allowed you to see that it was completely empty, just waiting to capture your suppressed moans like a net of stone.

Your stomach twirled with anticipation as you jumped onto your bed. In a rushed manner, you dropped your skirt down, leaving your stockings the only thing covering your legs. You loosened your tie, and ripped your shirt apart, allowing the cold air to caress your bare skin.

The only thing remaining on your buzzing body was an intact bra and bottoms, your loose stockings, and the ghost of Theo’s tongue and teeth.

You sighed aloud as you slipped beneath the sheets, letting the swirling material cool your hot flesh. If you could have, you’d have thought you’d start steaming.

“Fuck,” you shuddered, letting your hands slide down your aching hips. Nothing felt like Theo but you knew that you were the closest substitute.

One hand inched down towards your lacy bottoms, while the other toyed with your chest through the fabric of your bra. The rough material scraped against your nipples just enough to pull them into a standing position.

You’d only been here seconds, but a thin sheen of sweat had graced across your chest.

As your fingers began to slip beneath your pantyline, a choked moan left your lips as you granted yourself the relief you’d been waiting for ever since Theo’s eyes had met yours.

It was fucking stupid how dangerously he affected you.

And just as the tips of your fingers had begun to sink into your core, the door flew open with a force like lightning.

You gasped loudly and scrambled to cover your body with your blankets.

“What the hell?” you shrieked, your hair gathering around your face messily.

Through the curtains draped over the canopy on your bed, you glimpses Theo walking toward your bed.

“Hello, darling,” he purred. His eyes met yours cruelly as he dragged them up the length of your scantily covered body.

Your uniform shirt was still wrapped around your elbows and your tie settled loosely between your cleavage. The air still kissed the tops of your thighs.

He eyed you like a predator, and you watched him like prey as he circled ever closer. He stopped at the foot of the bed.

“Theo, you need to leave,” you whispered, your body practically vibrating with want. His scent was beginning to curl around your nose, threatening to overtake you as if you were drowning. It took everything in you not to tackle him.

“Mm, tesoro,” he breathed. His fingers slipped down to brush against your bare ankle. The contact pulled a gasp from you, and you quickly yanked your leg away from him. “I’m surprised you haven’t begged me to take you back yet.”

“I beg you?” you scoffed. “You should be begging me! You’ve treated me like shit ever since we got back together last time.”

“No, my love,” he said, beginning to slowly move around the edge of the bed. “It’s nothing to do with you, you know I just like to flirt a little.”

“That’s not okay, Theo! Why would that be okay?”

“You could flirt a little too, if you wanted,” he suggested. He was now standing over you, just to your right. “I know Mattheo’s been dying to get a taste of you. And I wouldn’t mind sharing…just a bit.”

Your stomach burned with his words. Your core seeped with excitement as every cursed syllable twisted its way into your mind.

Still, you refused to say anything. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction by begging him to take you like you wanted him to.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against your ear.

“Come on, baby,” he growled. “Take me back and let me fuck you. I can smell how badly you want me.”

His words sent shivers down your arms. He huffed a laugh against your neck as he trailed the top of his nose from your temple down to your collarbone.

Your eyes slipped shut at the feeling as you wondered how you always got yourself into this situation. Every single time you’d gotten away from Theo, you always fell right back into his hands. It was like a game to him.

“It’s alright, darling. Let me take care of you. We’ll forget about all this. Everything will go back to the way it was, except I promise I won’t flirt with anyone else.”

Merlin, wasn’t that what he always said? Wasn’t that the very thing you swore he’d say? You should be running away. Why weren’t you?

Because the bend of his knuckle was creeping over your nipple, slowly and easily. You gasped slightly at the sensation. He knew what he was doing. He always knew.

“That’s it, my girl,” he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. Fuck, he was perfect at making you like him again. That was the way he’d locked you in in the first place.

“Now, my love,” he said against your skin. “What was it you were going to do to yourself?”

You said nothing, your eyes still clenched shut, still trying to refuse his seduction.

“What was it you were going to do while thinking of me?” His fingers slipped down your chest and traced the lines of your stomach.

Once he’d reached your panty line, he traced the edges of the thin lace, allowing the scratchy material to rub against his skin. The slight noise that echoed from the motion had you lightheaded.

His finger gently slipped beneath the waistband and tugged on them just a bit, pulling the bottoms up against your core. The sensation pushed black spots in front of your eyes.

“Fuck, Theo,” you whispered, a whine building up in your throat.

“Just tell me what you need,” he sighed against your cheek, “and I’m all yours.”

“Swear you won’t flirt with any other girls,” you demanded, eyes finally opening to meet his cold stare.

“I already did, my love,” he chuckled.

“Swear it again, Theo! Please! All I want is for you to be for me only.” You begged him with a clenched fist against his chest.

“I’m only for you, bella,” Theo smiled. “Can I fuck you now? Please, baby. Please? Just say the words, my love. Please, let me fuck you. I want to make you feel so good.” He begged relentlessly.

“Yes.”

And he was breathing a sigh against your lips, then pressing them to his. His tongue was slipping between your teeth and messily claiming your mouth just as he always did. Your lips were panting his name through choked syllables as his fingers were pushing further into your bottoms.

He was lifting you with his free hand and scooting you over so he could take his place beside you on the bed. He was separating his mouth from yours, only to start kissing down your neck. Then his tongue was on your collarbone, then your clothed breast, then your stomach, then your covered core.

He was swirling his mouth over you and marking you so beautifully.

Your fingers were curling into his hair as he consumed you through your bottoms, teeth scraping and tongue dripping.

You were breathlessly whining his name to the cold air, begging to be heard by anyone around. Your knuckles were turning white as he pushed his hot mouth farther against you.

Then he was pulling away and helping you slip out of your bottoms. He was quickly replacing his mouth against you again, the lack of material in between you and his lips now sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Your back arched against him, pleading for more.

Then he was turning you on your stomach, and letting the cold air hit your sweating back. His fingers massaged your ass roughly as he pushed your hips forward to see his dirty work covering your core. The beginnings of your finish mixed with his spit slid down through your folds. The sight alone had his pants tightening significantly.

“So beautiful, my love,” he whispered. With the hand that held your hips forward, he brushed his thumb down your core, marveling at the way you reacted so vividly.

His free hand trailed up your spine until he reached the back of your neck. He pushed your face roughly into the pillow. You whimpered at the sudden aggression.

“I hope that what I’m about to give you will teach you not to fucking break up with me,” he growled into your ear, all of the sugar in his voice completely dissipated.

You knew this was coming. It always did.

He slammed his hand down against your ass cheek, the pain rippling up your back and down your thigh. You screamed into the pillows, your fingers gripping into the fabric.

His hands wrapped around the tie still dangling around your neck, and yanked your head back to rest against his chest. You yelped at the sudden movement, the force of the tie pressing tightly against your throat.

Tears threatened the edge of your eyes. “I’m sorry, Theo.”

“Oh, it’s too late for ’sorry,’ baby.”

He dropped the tie and your face fell back into the pillows. His hands wrapped meanly around your hips and he yanked you closer to him.

With rough hands, you could hear him undoing his belt and yanking his pants down around his knees. He pulled your body up by the waist, pulling you into an awkward position. Your breasts and throat still pressed roughly into the mattress, but your hips were smashed against Theo’s now bare core. He was hot and heavy against you, enough to make you shudder at the sensation.

He grabbed your wrists from where your arms were flailed flimsily above you, and pulled them tight behind your back. With one large, structured hand, he clutched both of your wrists together, and pinned them against your lower back.

“You want me, baby? Is that what you want? Yeah?”

“Yeah…,” you whined, tears trailing down your cheeks. Because despite the pain and the malice Theo exuded, it never failed to turn you on so painfully. This was the kind of love you wanted, yet couldn’t find anywhere else.

“Yeah? Yeah? Beg for it, bitch. Beg for it a week after you said you didn’t need it.”

“Please, Theo,” you moaned. “Please, baby, I need you so bad. Please, I was wrong!”

“That’s it,” he chuckled meanly. “Such a good girl.”

And then he’s collecting all of the moisture around himself then pushing into you in one smooth movement. His hand is clenching around your arms and the tension is stretching your shoulders so far, they burn.

You could taste salt from your cheeks and lust from the fingers that he suddenly shoved into your mouth. You gagged around them pitifully as he forced more stimulation on you than he ever had before.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned, letting his hips sink deeper into you with every thrust. He kept you occupied from every angle, even going so far as to trap your legs tightly together between his own. You were secured and you couldn’t move. But why was it so perfect?

“Merlin, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he murmured. The pace he was beginning to set threatened to unravel you within the next few breaths. Every push of his hips against your core had your legs trembling and chills shooting across your arms.

“You think you can just leave me and move on? Huh? You think someone else could fuck you like this?” he demanded, bordering a shout.

You shook your head as well as you could with his fingers still curled against your tongue, reddened cheeks scratching across the mattress.

“Use your words, baby. Who could fuck you like this?” He freed your mouth.

“You! Nobody else, Theo! Just you!”

And he was quickening his pace and holding every part of you tighter. With the hand he’d just pulled from between your lips, he slipped around you and began to rub tight circles across your clitoris, allowing the last wave of pleasure to build to a height it’d never reached before, then crash down over you.

And you were coming all over your legs and his dick, and it felt better than anything he’d ever given you before.

You were screaming his name tied in with a refrain of curses and swears. It was the most pleasures he’d ever made you feel and, if it weren’t for the burning in your arms, and the eyes rolling back into your head, you’d have imagined it was a dream.

Once he had milked your spend, he was pulling out of you and flipping you over onto your back. He seemed to have no regard for the deep ache echoing in your entire lower half due to his violent assault of your core.

He reentered you as quickly as he’d pulled out, lighting your abdomen on fire. You helped at the sensation, the oversensitivity burning in your core.

“I’m going to come in you, sweet girl,” he said, placing his hands over your nipples. “Just to remind you who you belong to.”

His thrusts quickened and quickened before they slowly began to become sloppy, hips clapping lazily against the backs of your thighs. Then his built abdomen was tensing and his eyes were rolling back.

You were crying out his name and begging him to paint your insides, and he was groaning and releasing into you at a rate you’d never seen him do before.

Then he was collapsing onto your chest, bodies still within the other, while you planted unevenly.

“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll do the same thing but worse.” he murmured against your chest.

“Then you shouldn’t flirt with other girls,” you argued. “It’s as simple as that.”

“I don’t flirt with other girls, I just talk to them.”

“That is not the truth, Theo,” you scoffed, glancing down at him. Despite your annoyance with his words, your fingers still rose to caress his curls.

“I would just appreciate it if you didn’t do that any longer,” you explained. “Anything that could possibly be mistaken for flirting, just don’t do.”

“Oh, yeah? Or what? It’s not like I can’t just pull a couple orgasms out of you, and snatch you right back up.”

He glanced up at you, chin resting on your chest and eyes staring meanly.

“If you flirt with another girl ever again, I’m going to let Mattheo get that taste you were mentioning earlier.”

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[impala-dreamer]

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really. 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05  

[photogirl894]

CONGRATS ON 1300 FOLLOWERS!!!!🥳🎉🎊

Ahhhhhhh this is so exciting of a request!!! Ok ok ok so—

*drum roll*

Tech (no surprise there), fluff/romance prompt 17, and 22 physical affection!!!!

Again congratulations on all the followers!! That’s so wild!! You deserve them so much, my dear friend.💞

Aw Stitch, I adore you so very much!! 💜 Thank you for always being a sweetheart and a dear friend!

I hope you like this, my dear!!

"The Aquatic Festival"

17. "I am yours and you are mine."

22. Slow dancing

Pairing: Tech x fem reader

***

The time for the Aquatic Festival on Pabu had finally arrived.

It was a time where a vast amount of exotic fish crossed the ocean and hundreds of them came close to Pabu's shores, so the fishermen and women would go out on their boats and catch tons of fish to feed their families for weeks. To celebrate the fish migration and another successful year of fish harvesting, they had the Aquatic Festival, which consisted of many fun activities for all as well as many food booths where people cooked and prepared their catches in various delicious ways. It was a great way to spend time with family and friends and to just make merry with a wonderful community.

You were hoping a certain someone would ask you to accompany him to the festival. A certain Clone that had arrived on Pabu recently...one that wore goggles and was incredibly smart.

You hoped Tech would ask you to the festival.

He had helped rebuild your home after the devastating tsunami that had happened and you'd gotten to know him pretty well in that time. While he wasn't always the most attentive to social cues or he was a little more blunt in his perspective of things, you still liked that about him. His intelligence intrigued and inspired you quite a lot; you enjoyed listening to him ramble about different things. That and you found him handsome, which some of the other girls on the island didn't fully understand when looking at his other brothers in comparison. Their opinions didn't matter, though. Tech was the one that had caught your eye and that made him all the more attractive in your eyes.

There were times it seemed he was interested in you in return, but then you wondered if perhaps he was just being friendly. He spent time with you even after your home was rebuilt; he came and visited you when he could. That was a good sign, right? You weren't always sure, but he treated you kindly and with respect. That was what mattered.

The morning of the festival, you were just finishing up your morning tea when there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, you found Tech standing there with his hands behind his back, which brought a smile to your face.

After wishing you a good morning, he went on to say, "I do realize I may be too late in asking, since it is today, but...I wanted to..." He could barely look at you; you could tell he was nervous and it was quite endearing, but you waited patiently. "I would like to inquire of you...if you will accompany me to the Aquatic Festival today. I very much enjoy your company and thought it would make for a lovely time for us both if we attended together." Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

You smiled brightly at him. "I would love that more than anything, Tech," you said kindly.

His body relaxed at your acceptance and he grinned gladly.

"Give me just a few minutes, I'll go get properly dressed," you had told him. You were in your comfortable wear, but you had a special dress you'd picked out for the festival.

Once you were dressed in your flowy, pink and white dress, you emerged from the house and Tech's eyes widened at the sight of you. "You look quite radiant," he complimented you, "but by my calculations, something seems to be missing." Then from behind his back, he pulled out a white blossom from the weeping maya tree that grew at the very top of the island. "I think this would complete your look," he said with a grin. After that, he stepped closer to you and placed the white blossom behind your ear and you felt a blush rise up in your cheeks at his incredibly sweet gesture, not even resisting at all.

The two of you had a grand time at the festival. You spent a lot of the time around his brothers, which you didn't mind. You participated in a lot of the activities, tried many different kinds of fish that had been prepared and Tech even won you a stuffed moon-yo at a shooting game, which he was particularly skilled at. The day went on and you were glad to see Tech beginning to feel more comfortable here on Pabu. Sometimes you'd catch him looking and smiling your way and it made you smile shyly back. He made your heart flutter in ways no other man you'd met in life ever had. Even if nothing else happened after today, you would hold onto the memories of this day for the rest of time.

Soon, evening began to fall and the island was enveloped in the pink, purple and yellow hues of the sunset. Shep, the mayor, announced that the dancing would soon commence. Most of the Bad Batch chose to just watch the dancing, with the exception of Wrecker. He loved all the line dancing and just having fun and he even pulled Omega in for a dance, which made her laugh and smile. He even got you in for a fun swing dance and you had a fun time with him. Then a slower melody began to play and before you could question what was going to happen, Tech approached you and took your hand, wordlessly leading you back to the dance floor without taking his eyes off of you. He gently pulled you back to him, his other arm encircling your waist as you laid your hand on his arm, and the two of you began to sway in tandem in a slow dance.

"Was today to your liking, (Y/N)?" he asked you.

With a nod, you answered, "It really was. More than anything I could've hoped for." You smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Tech."

He bowed his head, but then his expression softened slightly as his eyes darted down to the ground as if in thought. "Do you know the significance of the weeping maya tree's white blossoms?" he asked you.

Curious, you just shook your head.

"The tree's flowers are normally of a pink variant and the white ones are exceptionally rare...which is what I think about you," he told you. When you blinked in surprise, he went on, "You are an exceptionally rare woman in my eyes and I find myself fortunate to have met you...which is also what the flower symbolizes: good luck and fortune. That is why I gifted it you."

"Tech...that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," you told him, lifting your hand from his arm up to his cheek. Overcome by your feelings for him, you reacted instinctively, tilted your head up and kissed him. Though, the minute you did, you realized what you had done and immediately pulled back, embarrassed.

Though, in reply, he grinned and said, "That was exactly the response I predicted." Then he took your free hand and brought it to his lips, tenderly kissing your knuckles. "(Y/N), I am yours...and, if I have read the signs correctly...you are mine. May I call you as such?"

With joyful tears forming in your eyes, you answered him, nodding your head, "Of course, you may. I've always been yours. I'm just happy I can call you mine now, too."

The two of you stopped dancing and stood in place as Tech pulled you closer and kissed you in the middle of the dance floor, both of you ignoring the glad laughter and cheers of his brothers from the sidelines.

This year's Aquatic Festival had definitely been the best one yet.

Photogirl894's Fluff/Romance prompts

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[smellslikechahnspirit]

Introduction to Stray Kids, SKZ

[for my baby-STAY bestie, Nyll]

From what I know personally. Don´t hate me for knowing more about some than others lol. Feel free to comment fun facts about YOUR bias, maybe I´ll add them here!

DISCLAIMER: For anyone reading this, this article is how I preceive the skz members, some of it might be a personal opinion, so might NOT be factual!

STRAY KIDS

Entertainment company: JYP Entertainment. Their debut was on March 25, 2018. They had a survival show a year prior to that. Chris (Bang Chan) is the one who formed the group by himself, which was unusual, since normally the company does that. So if it wasn´t for Chris, the group may have contained completely different people. The company trusted him enough to do so. The group debuted as a group of 9 members but one member had left in 2019 due to personal reasons. (If you want tea about that, text me.)

Fandom name: STAY (August 1st is our bday.)

Members: 8

Hyung line (eldests): Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin.

Maknae line (youngests): Han, Felix, Seungmin, I.N.

Units: 3.

First Unit: 3RACHA: Consists Bang Chan, Changbin and Han. ( The OG unit. This is the unit who creates all their music. Without them the group basically wouldn´t exist. They write, produce, arange and more.) Before making music for SKZ they made music for themselves. You can still listen to those songs on Youtube. That was more rap based.

Second Unit: Dance Racha: Consists Lee Know, Felix and Hyunjin (Since there are 3 members leading in dance. They made a joke to call it a unit, but I feel like it´s a real thing now.)

Third Unit: Vocal Racha: Consists Seungmin and I.N (Same thing here, they are main vocals, that´s why.)

It´s called Racha, because of the sauce, sriracha. Cuz they´re hot.

Current Dorm Arrangement: Dorm 1: Bang Chan & I.N Dorm 2: Lee Know & Han Dorm 3: Changbin & Hyunjin Dorm 4: Seungmin & Felix The 4 dorms are located within 5 minutes walk from each other. 

Mascotte: SKZOO (Let´s see if you can match them to the right member)

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I will introduce the members in age sequence from eldest to youngest. I picked the photos from the ATE album photoshoot. I will type anything that comes to mind. I amazed myself of how much info I know about them. It´s kinda disturbing if you think about it...I need to get a life UWU.

방찬 Bang Chan:

Stage Name: Bang Chan (방찬) Birth Name: Christopher Chahn Bahng Korean Name: Bahng Chan (방찬)

Age: 27 [ October 3rd, 1997 ]

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Height: 171 cm

MBTI Type: ENFJ-T

Nationality: Korean-Australian

Representative Animal: Wolf

Position: Leader, Producer, Vocalist, Dancer, Rapper

Unit: 3RACHA

Instagram: @ gnabnahc

A bit about Chrissy:

As you know, this man is my bias. A bias is what you call a member who is your favorite. So for you that currently is Changbin Chrissy is also my Ult. Ult means Ultimate, as in your fav member, amoungst all the kpop groups you stan.

Chris likes sports and is very athletic. He can do it all.

Strong, fast, smart, sweet, truely kind, determent, ambitious, hard working, shy, empathic, loyal.

If there is one thing that he loves, it´s the ocean. This man is a true aussie and misses his home alot. But he knows what he gave it all up for. Stray kids.

The group he basically created. He was very young when he moved from Australia to Korea to become a trainee at JYP. He trained for 7 years. He had a hard time seeing his other trainee friends come and go, and became a very cold person. Because he bascially protected himself from being hurt like that again. Towards his members he was also very strict and cold in the beginning, since he loved them too much and wanted them all to succeed. He never wanted one of his friends to leave again, so he worked so hard, day and night to make the group as big as it has become today. I personally stanned them since 2017 and I remember him being that way. Everyone was a bit scared of him lol. But he also tried showing lots of love too. Nowadays that coldness is pretty much gone and nothing but love comes from this man. Although he doens´t forget his position as leader.

He takes care of everything regarding the group and is the first one responsable. There is an insane amount of pressure on him, but he always tells us, that he can handle it. He knows himself better then we do, and we have to take his word for it.

Chris loves Pokemon and One Piece a lot. He watches a lot of Anime. He isn´t that good in gaming, from what I´ve heard from the other members. He says otherwise. TFT is his current fav mobile game. He also has been playing Genshin and he said the new character Xilonen is hot. Besides playing games, Chris usually is just working.

He is a very flirty person on Bubble, but he claims he doesn´t know what flirting is.

He can play the guitar and the piano.

He is double jointed.

Favorite song is Rewrite the stars by Zendaya and Zac Efron.

He hates his thin curly hair. He hates his height. He hates his face card. Basically he doesn´t love himself. Which I don´t get, but us stays cannot change his mind.

He used to do Live streams every Sunday. Called Channie´s Room. I have watched them all since 2019 until it ended last year. He quit those AMAZING lives due to unclear reasons, but I have a feeling it had something to do with- (ask me in real life, it´s too controversial to say on here lol.)

His favorite color is blue. Blue, like the ocean.

He has a little brother and sister. He really looks up to his dad. He wants to be like him one day. He has a dog named Berry.

Chris used to swim. And he is still pretty good at it. But he rarely gets the chance to do it anymore. Nowadays he likes to play soccer or as he likes to say, footy.

He is addicted to his phone.

He doesn´t have a favorite food but he likes anything with meat. Especially the lamb ribs his dad makes for him on the bbq. He had a phase that he only ate Vietnamese Pho. He likes gelatto and he likes the flavour pistachio. Does not drink alcohol or coffee.

He barely sleeps, like ever.

He is friends with a lot of famous people, including Ryan Reynolds. He loves the Deadpool movies. But he took note, to never watch it together with STAY again. He did it once, on Christmas...and got shy when the explicit scene came on. Dork.

He is very rich lmao and currently wears a lot of clothes by Fendi. He used to only wear black clothes from head to toe. But this year he has really improved on his style and figuering out what looks good on him.

Thinks it´s funny to eat spicy noodles even though he can´t take the spiciness. Idiot.

He has a candle warmer with the candle Vanilla Creme brulee underneath it from Yankee.

His favorite season is Autumn.

When he was young he had issues with anxiety. He couldn´t even leave his house. He was affraid to talk to people. But he took his mom as an example and started acting the way she did and overcame his fears.

Also in his trainee years, he dealt with depression (Insert the song 42 by 3RACHA.) He sometimes still feels depressed, and overthinks a lot during the night. But he said, he can take it.

His motto: Just enjoy.

I could keep going for like 44482779837383843 more pages about stupid little things I know about this man, but let´s not lmao. I´ll spare you.

Click here to see random Chris moments!

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리노 Lee Know

Stage Name: Lee Know (리노) Birth Name: Lee Min Ho (이민호)

Age: 25 [ October 25th, 1998 ]

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Height: 172 cm

MBTI Type: ISFP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Rabbit

Position: Dance leader, Dancer, Vocalist, Rapper

Unit: DanceRacha

Instagram: @ t.leeknowsaurus

A bit about Lino:

He used to be a back-up dancer for BTS.

He has 3 cats and is obsessed with them. Sooni, Doongi, and Dori.

He often comes off as a mean person, cause he likes teasing the other members. But he has a heart of gold and would take care of you the best.

He is hubbie material frfr. He can cook really good too!

Afraid of heights.

Has weird dreams.

Doesn´t speak English very well, but he is learning! In English interviews he often seems lost, because he simply is.

In the survival show, he got elleminated. In the end JYP gave him one last chance and he made the final cut.

He can´t actually swim, so in variety shows where they go into the water, he always has a floaty.

His motto: Let’s eat well and live well.

I do know more things, but none that are really important right now.

Click here to see random Lino moments!

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창빈 Changbin

Stage Name: Changbin (창빈) Birth Name: Seo Chang Bin (서창빈)

Age: 25 [ August 11th, 1999 ]

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Height: 167 cm

MBTI Type: ESTP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Pabbit (Pig & Rabbit)

Position: Rapper, Vocalist, Producer

Unit: 3RACHA

Instagram: @ jutdwae

A bit about Binnie:

Okay so I don´t know a lot about this man.

He loves the gym! He has been working out for years and loves being strong. But he doenst have abs, or so he claims. That´s why he never shows skin on stage. But he said he was working on it!

He is actually really kawaii. He likes pink and such. But in the beginning he was all dark and bad boy vibes. He still claims black is his favorite color.

He likes horror movies.

Girl group dances are his specialty.

Sassy.

His motto: Let’s live with a positive mind, enjoy the life.

Cries on rollarcoasters.

Click here to see random Binnie moments!

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현진 Hyunjin

Stage Name: Hyunjin (현진) Birth Name: Hwang Hyun Jin (황현진) English Name: Sam Hwang

Age: 24 [ March 20th, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Height: 179 cm

MBTI Type: ESTP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Ferret

Position: Dancer, Rapper, Vocalist, Visual

Unit: Dance Racha

Instagram: @ hynjinnnn

A bit about Jinnie:

Hyunjin is a great dancer, but also a great painter! He makes amazing paintings and shares them on Bubble and Instagram.

A walking meme.

Dramaqueen.

He lived in Las Vegas for a while as a kid.

Allergic to cat furr.

Almost joined a cult by accident when he first moved to Korea.

He hates onions and eggplant.

Screams loudly and is overall chaotic.

Sleeptalker.

His motto: Let’s try even when you regret it later.

Click here to see random Jinnie moments!

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한 Han

Stage Name: Han (한) Birth Name: Han Ji Sung (한지성) English Name: Peter Han

Age: 24 [ September 14th, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 169 cm

MBTI Type: ISTP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Quokka

Position: Rapper, Vocalist, Producer

Unit: 3RACHA

Instagram: @ _doolsetnet

A bit about Hannie:

A complete rockstar.

The first member to be chosen by Chris.

Writes beautiful lyrics.

Likes the color red.

Plays electric guitar live on stage.

He stayed in Malaysia for a while as a teen. That´s why his english is pretty good, but he has a british accent, since that´s how they teach it there.

I don´t remember the story completly correctly, but I feel like I remember him saying that he almost got eaten by a crocodile in Malaysia once. I could be wrong lmao.

Had some issues with anger and anxiety, but is doing well nowadays!

When he lays down he usually falls asleep.

I feel like he is a very emotional person. I feel a strong connection with him since he has been through a lot of the same things as I have. Latety he has been doing well though.

Struggled with panic attacks as well. (Insert my connection to him.)

His motto: This too, shall pass.

Click here to see random Hannie moments!

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필릭스 Felix

Stage Name: Felix (필릭스) Birth Name: Felix Lee (이 필릭스) Korean Name: Lee Yong Bok (이용복)

Age: 24 [ September 15th, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 171 cm

MBTI Type: ENFJ

Nationality: Korean-Australian

Representative Animal: Chick

Position: Dancer, Rapper, Vocalist

Unit: Dance Racha

Instagram: @ yong.lixx

A bit about Lixxie:

Our second aussie man.

Just like Chris, from Sydney. He must miss his home as well, but talks about it less.

That´s also why Chris and him are so close. Chris said he feels like a brother to him. And he loves talking English with him, so he doesn´t lose his aussie accent. Even though Felix his accent is already much thicker than Chris´s.

An actual nugget. He is so tiny asdfghjkl.

FRECKLES!!!

Fun fact, he was my first bias back in 2017.

He is ambassador for Louis Vuiton.

He is Catholic.

Very flexable.

Felix is a 3rd degree black belt at taekwondo, he won a lot of medals when he was young.

He can make a spot on Mosquito sound.

Blue is his favorite color.

He had to learn Korean within a couple of months, and did it.

He HATES scary stuff.

Chocolate abs.

His hands are very tiny.

He loves doing ASMR.

Baking! He loves baking but especially brownies and cookies.

Build his own PC and Keyboard.

Loves gaming. Obsessed with Genshin these days.

He always gives the other members massages.

He always cheats in every game.

Obsessed with Changbin.

Just like Minho, he got ellimenated in their survival show. In the end he also got a second chance and made the final cut as well.

His motto: Just a little braver.

Click here to see random Lix moments!

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승민 Seungmin

Stage Name: Seungmin (승민) Birth Name: Kim Seung Min (김승민)

Age: 24 [ September 22nd, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 178 cm

MBTI Type: ISFJ

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Dog

Position: Vocalist

Unit: Vocal Racha

Instagram: @ miniverse.___

A bit about Minnie:

Okay so don´t come at me, but I simply don´t know much about him besides that he is realy sweet and feels betrayed fast is the members prank him. But he will return the favour. He is a menace.

He went to the same high school as Chris.

He loves singing covers.

I also remember something between him and baseball, he liked playing.

His motto: Today you spent in vain is the day as tomorrow someone who passed away really wants to live through.

Click here to see random Min moments!

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아이엔 I.N

Stage Name: I.N (아이엔) Birth Name: Yang Jeong In (양정인)

Age: 23 [ February 8th, 2001 ]

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Height: 172 cm

MBTI Type: INFJ

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Fennec Fox

Position: Vocalist, Maknae (Maknae means youngest)

Unit: Vocal Racha

Instagram: @ i.2.n.8

A bit about Innie:

Same here, I don´t know too much about our little Maknae. And when I say little, I mean not at all little, actually. This tiny nugget really grew up in front of our eyes, and is now a man.

Huge hands.

Litterly has one of the purest hearts.

Has the sweetest softest smile and voice.

During the survival show he got really insecure and was worried he would be ´´poison´´ to the group.

I.N is a Catholic.

He is known to be one of the cleanest members.

His motto: Let’s have a good time!

Click here to see random Ayen moments!

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Sorry if I didn´t write as much for all of them. I love ALL members equally. But I just know my biasses better than others. Hope you enjoyed babes! I want you to know that I appreciate it a lot that you listen and watch the content they make, because you know how much I love and care about these men. For any other people who might be reading this...hi :)

Credits of videos and photos go to the op

[arikihalloween]

Pantheon AU

✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️

Aka, Welcome to me making up deity designs because why the hell not

✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️

It started with this drawing I made of a Julie that I call Moon Deity

And people on twitter have been eating that up so I've felt some motivation to continue working on it

Today I'm sharing the 4 first deities I've finished

❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️

Julie Joyful

Deity of the moon and oceans. Do not be fooled by her elegant and beautiful appearance, for she's an energic goddess that will bend bodies of water to her emotional will.

The moon is often associated to calmness, feminity, such things, but I decided to go with an other approach. The moon is small and fast. She turns around the earth every day of the year, and is responsible for the tides. The closer she is, the bigger the tide ! That doesn't sound that much calm to me. In this AU Julie appears calm only because Sally insist that she has to dress "regal" for their very important deity jobs. Isn't that silly ?

Julie will have alternate outfits depending on the activity she wants to do at any given moment, switching from pants to dress !

✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️

Sally Starlet

Deity of the Sun, stars and fire, she is the calm one, most of the time. Warm, but also a little stuck up sometimes, Sally likes when things are in order and go her way. She sees their deity roles as important ! The fiery goddess also gives her blessings in the arts, especially theater art which she favors

The sun doesn't move as much as the moon, but it is big and powerful and at the center of our solar system. I like the idea of reversing roles a little, having the sun being the calm one for once

✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️

Home

The deity of death is a kind and compassionate fellow. He doesn't talk much, but listens very well, and will help souls pass to their afterlife with all the compassion in the world. He is also the patron of living spaces, as he wants to make sure beings live well, safe, sound and happy, before he comes to take them away.

I like it when death deities aren't cruel but instead very kind and comforting. Home will have a lot of little helpers ! Although, note that Home is the deity of death as in he's the reaper. There is other deities ruling over the concept of death ! Home is more of a psychopomp in this AU ( psychopomps are the "reaper" deities. It includes Valkyries, Ankous, Shinigamis, Grim Reaper, etc)

❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️

Wally Darling

The deity of life ! He creates and gives in abondance, whenever he can. He may not be particularly smart, or doesn't pay that much attention to his creations past their conception and first breath, but he means well and is still learning. He's a fairly new deity, replacing the previous one. Home is there to kindly help guide him to his new duties, along with Barnaby.

He's just a silly trying his best with great powers. Life is pretty mysterious, and not easy. The path is long and full of hardships, after all... but I don't think what gives the first breath of life is cruel for it. Life is still beautiful and should be cherished

❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️❇️✳️

Bonus Appleblossom sketch because this is my self indulgent au so I will put in my ocs, headcanons and fav ships !

[hetalia-club]

Historical Hetalia

I hate how the hetalia fandom makes England out to be this brilliant mastermind when actual he’s a petty idiot. And he’s been getting a pass for far too long.

Here are some of my favorite England moments through recent history. Absolut Looney Tunes bull shit.

Story 1:

America and England had a plan (that was really smart and would totally work) to build a tunnel under west Germany so they could go inside of it and listen in on what the Russians stationed there were saying.

A double Agent in England's side (but actually worked for Russia) went and blabbed about it. Russia was like “oh no! That’s such a good plan we should have thought of it! I know let’s let them half way finish the tunnel and then we can discover it then we can finish building it!” So that’s what happened America and England filled in the hole though and pretended like they got lost digging like a sewer pipe or something like that.

Story 2:

A rock exists on the coast of Scotland. This is a real big and cool rock… or that’s what England thought anyway. So worried about the rock he spent nights tossing and turning wondering if the big fuck ton of a rock was perhaps being used for spying, was it bugged? Perhaps it wasn’t a rock at all and it was a submarine? Tired of sleepless nights England sailed over there one day and placed a British flag on the rock and a plaque claiming it as official British territory. Scotland was so pissed because that was HIS very cool big rock! They are still fighting over who owns the rock today. I do think teh Scotts threw teh flag into the ocean.

Story 3:

Or the time that America had just recruited a new spy and he was on his way to meet his new British associates in NY for a spy mission they had against Russia. The British Spy’s thought he gave off sneaky vibes so the kidnapped him and killed him when he got to the meeting and then they just went inside and waited for him to show up. They contacted the CIA and were like “where’s your boy dog?” And they described him to the spy’s and they were like “New mission you guys need to find this guy because we lost communication and we think it might have been the KGB and he had important stuff on him” and the British Spy’s were like “um…. I think we know where to find him” *cue laugh track*

Story 4:

The British were spying in Russian waters in a submarine when they came across a Polish sub. They were super jealous because this one was pulling a bunch of hydrophones( devices that allowed to you listen inside of other submarines). So the British wanted them so they were real real quiet and they snuck up behind the sub and they cut the line. They took the hydrophones and made a quick get away without the Polish sub being any the wiser.

Poland had to go back to Russia and be like. "Remember the really expensive equipment you gave me to use? Yeah I think it broke off in the ocean and idk where we lost it though and I'm NOT going back for it so don't ask. Kay thanks bye!"

Story 4 (my favorite because it is the dumbest and I think about it a lot):

Let me set the scene It’s the Cold War and things are really hearting up and Britain and America are afraid that Russia may try and cross the iron curtain. America said they should burry land mines but then remembers that it would be too cold for the land mines to stay working in the winter time (Just remember this was some years ago). But our mastermind England had an original though. I'm just going to write out exactly how I think this conversation would have went because frankly it's just so dumb and I could not make this shit up if I tried.

America: Alright everybody i really think we need to do something about the Iron curtain Russia has been too bold lately. So I was thinking something like land mines but I'm not sure if it'll work they won't work in the winter which knowing Russia that's exactly when he would attack. If anyone has any ideas I'm open to them Now if we could all ju-

England: *lifting is head from the mountain of cocaine he just had his face buried in* Chickens!

America: I'm sorry what?

England: Chickens! Chickens you idiot!

America: What do you mean chickens, are you alright man?

England: Uh! You are so dumb. We get a bunch of chickens, we strap the land mines on them and we put the chickens into little cages. Then we burry the cages and give them enough food for about a week. And we can just change the chickens every week. The body heat of the chickens will keep the land mine warm, don't you see? We can use a remote to detonate the land mines ourselves.

America: Okay...that's a thought. Anyone else have any ideas? *Looks around the room of his allies as they all nod in agreement*

America: Germany, what's your thoughts on this? You don't think this is a good idea surely, right? Just burying chickens along the border of your country.

Germany: I like chickens.

America: This is worse than my idea to put little head sets on cats and turn them lose in Moscow, you all can't be forreal

Italy: Chickens are cool tho.

America: God Damn it. Okay Operation Chicken is-

England: No stupid you can't call it operation chicken, Russia will know what we are up to right away. We need to name it something discrete. If not he'll steal our chicken idea.

America: Russia dosen't want your stupid- Alright whatever, what do you want to call it then?

England: Operation Blue Bunny....No No! Blue Peacock

America: What the actual fuck is wrong with you?

(Provided a link for this one because I don't think any of you would believe me if I didn't)

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Should Odd Acquaintance Be Forgot" Episode Followup, Part 1

Cue the kazoo trumpet! Our second part of our three-part finale is here!

Might as well jump right into it, so let's get going below the break.

(And just as a fair warning: like "Odd Ones In", this will be a multi-parter. Could be five parts, could be eight. Just bear with me.)

(A post-editing note: I was informed that Leonie is, in fact, a girl, and not a boy like I thought. I'm keeping the LGBTQ+ theory because we've already gotten gay triangle villain and they could extend that to child villains too, but keep in mind that Leonie is a girl and not a boy. That's my bad.)

Ohhhhhhh it's a Tasha episoooooooooooooooh nooooooooooooooooo.

Whatever happened to Mark writing it? Tim? Adam? Can we get one of them on here to send this season/series off with a bang?

"Another quiet day in the office."

She says, like she didn't just have to deal with three child villains.

A few- A FUCKING FEW WEEKS AGO??????

Oh, rest in pieces, you beautiful timeline. God is deader than deader than dead. It doesn't even make sense for the Terrible Three because they already have a plan and already have the shapes and it makes little sense for them to wait this long to enact it!

Now, see, if any character in this entire scene were Odd-Squad-savvy, they'd feel this like a red flag shoved in every bodily orifice. You'd have to have the IQ of a goddamn rock to think that the Terrible Three would willingly turn themselves in even if they didn't gather up all the shapes. (Which they did, but these agents don't know that.)

Hell, Orli is somewhat Odd-Squad-savvy! She should call Ozzie and Captain O both out!

"We locked them in the interrogation room."

One of the things that sucks ass about not having any sort of one-way listening device in there. You had that, you could easily listen to what they were saying and figure out their evil plan.

*slams table exactly three times*

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

...Oh. Okay. Well, good. Glad someone here still has a working brain.

Now can you bop Orli's forehead and tell her that she could've had a [insert the UK's equivalent to V8 here]?

*long sigh*

Now why the fuck are we ping-ponging from smart to stupid?

Furthermore, can I yo Opie out of here because she is not helping the situation.

I WILL ASK AGAIN.

MAY I YOTE A CHILD.

MAY I YOTE A CHILD TODAY.

CAN I THROW ONE PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE.

I'LL PAY THE MEDICAL BILLS JUST LEMME THROW HER-

"I didn't give them anything dangerous, just the Goodnight-Sleep-inator."

Which, in those kids' hands, can be a viable weapon. Let's not forget what happened when Opal used the Nap-inator, and later the Slightly-Longer-Nap-inator, on Star Wipe, William Ocean, and Cardboard Carl in "Follow the Leader". Same effects, differently-named gadgets.

"Now, what's wrong with you? Lobotomy?!"

"...Appendicitis."

"Yeah?! Hahaha, no, Opie. Sweet Opie. No, you need a lobotomy."

"But...my append-"

"NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR INFLAMED APPENDIX. Orli...give me the IV needle, please..."

Honestly, this "I have a visual" joke is almost as unfunny as that bit in the beginning of "Odd Together Now" when the shields were at 001%.

Okay, so...the security computers here contain oddness, and these three shapes, when put into the correct slots, release it.

Do I have that stupid right?

Onom once again displaying his absolutely amazing insta-teleport skills, even in a time of crisis.

Man's got a gasping fixation so bad you'd think he's got asthma or something! Haha...haha...

...Aaaaaah...

...Oh God, wait a second-

"We have containment units here and all over town!"

Okay, here in HQ I can understand. But...out in fucking town?

I'll once again reiterate that I did this much better with The Adventures of Peaches and Mandy and sending odd stuff to The Odd Side, which is an alternate world that can be accessed by a gadget-made portal and not...y'know...something any random Joe can open in town.

Please make it make fucking sense.

...No. No, actually, I can buy this. Given how many sub-basements there are? I'd believe 100. In fact, the number almost seems too small!

(Also, this is 100% an iPad. Home button's a dead giveaway. Welcome back, Apple products in Odd Squad!)

I don't know why bro's surprised here. In the beginning, he got help from one agent and one agent only. Not a whole mass of them. Not anyone like, say, the Mobile Unit, which has four agents but still. No, no, he got only one. How did he think that would impact this precinct having less than 100 agents in any capacity? Going by that one OddTube Season 2 video (and don't ask me which, my mind is blanking), I'd think 100 agents is a base standard, a minimum number!

Though I can appreciate the parallels with Orli being the only employee in Niagara Falls bar her Director.

...Partly rescinding previous statement, because the point still applies but I paused before she finished with "...with us today".

If 100+ agents can't solve all that oddness in "Odd Ones In", that's either a failing on the Academy's part or a massively-shared skill issue.

She fights the high seas, but the high seas always win.

(Alternatively: "I fought the high seas, and the high seas won.")

I was about to make a comment on a third party before I sat on it for a minute and went "okay...if it's Captain O, maybe it's okay".

...Oooooooohhhhhhhhh.

That...doesn't really surprise me. Again, even without looking at spoilers, I probably could've pieced two and two together. Kids? Probably not. Me? Hell yeah.

As...opposed to telling the story right here? Is she worried someone's gonna skedaddle in when she has less than 100 agents?

That's silly, right? Right.

it's the end of the world as we know i-

*a pained scream through gritted teeth*

Okay, I can appreciate the 4chan Anon figures in the ba-

...Oh shit. That's one reference I'll regret making.

Coming from Orli, "we're in a hurry" sounds less like "we have to find what floor they're going to" and "we only got 7 minutes of episode left".

Clearly Ozzie didn't get the same training from the previous Director that Olive did, and really, if he had, it would have taken away so much hassle.

Running through five bosses in the span of a very short time, though, because of these three, is fucking insane. Again, we've seen that Directors can be meticulous about choosing their successors, which these four...weren't. Ozzie, at least, is somewhat justified because he likes helping people and he's got drive, so whoever his previous boss was made a fairly good choice in selecting him as a successor. But being a Director means that you really shouldn't quit because of a few bad apples in your employee base. Not many bosses in real life quit because of a few employees; most deal with the problem (in this case, perhaps by firing them) and remain in their position of power.

And speaking of, I hope this story ends with Ozzie firing their asses and yo'ing them out onto the streets. Make it be realistic, please.

I...okay...now, see, the booth and the fish and chips shop could have easily not been a thing if the HQ were entirely underground like we've seen in the past.

That being said...if they were a handful, how the fuck did they graduate from the Academy? What boss looked at them, pointed, and said "I got three empty slots, I want these ones"?

(That's a rhetorical question. The answer is "a very stupid one.")

THEY GAVE THE "RESKINNED" OHLM THE OHLM NAME SCHTICK????????

TASHA WHAT IN FIVE MILLION LEVELS OF F U C K ARE YOU SMOKIN' HONEY. STOP IT. STOP IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-

Ohhhhh...it's ironic because he's a villaaaaaaaaaaaa- look guys, it was either this or comment on how a bit of LGBTQ+ got in my reskinned Ohlm.

(On to Part 2!)

[casualjacobwrites]

FFXIV Write 2024 Prompt 19 - Taken

So I got sick Friday night followed by throwing my back out Monday on top of a lot of other crap. Needless to say, writing was not something I could do. I do still plan to get back to the single story idea, but tonight I took a little break from that to write a scene in which Honoroit and a crew member discuss theories as to why it is Emmanellain and Sicard always seem to be at each other's throats.

Wastgeim is just a random roegadyn I created and not a named NPC from the game. I keep forgetting to go look for actual names for crew members of the Bloody Executioners.

Anyway, please enjoy Honoroit coming to the realization that Lord Emmanellain might not be straight.

Word Count: 1,247

__

After several weeks at sea, Honoroit had settled into a routine aboard the Astalicia. Every evening he made a point to stand near the bow and peer at the endless expanse of ocean. For an hour or more he would listen to the creaking of the ship and the waves rolling beneath while marveling at the moonlight's reflection upon the water. During this time he let his mind wander from thought to thought, never lingering on any matter for longer than a few moments. He found this quiet meditation to be both relaxing and energizing, especially after a long day of playing mediator to Emmanellain and Sicard.

Upon thinking of his master and the acting captain of the Bloody Executioners, he closed his eyes and put his head on his forearms as he leaned against the railing of the ship. They'd had another row just before dinner which resulted in both men taking their meal in their respective quarters, which wouldn't be too terrible if it didn't mean Honoroit had to listen to Emmanellain spend an hour reciting a litany of Sicard's many flaws and perceived failures.

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his miserable recollection. He looked up to see Wastgeim holding her flask out to him in a silent offer. Having heard enough about sort of grog favored by the Executioners, he was smart enough to refuse with a polite smile and a shake of his head.

"Suit yerself," she said before taking a swig. She swallowed then let out a hiss of air, her face twisting in response to the burn of the alcohol. "Ye gods, Lafotal weren't kiddin'. This shite could put 'air on me mother's chest."

Honoroit laughed despite the roegadyn's vulgarity. Though the Executioners' speech had been quite shocking in the beginning, he found their boldness and honesty refreshing after years among Ishgardian nobles whose words often held double meanings. "If it's that terrible, why drink it?"

"S'not terrible!" Wastgeim paused and looked at the flask. "Maybe it's a bit terrible," she admitted, "but it 'elps after a day of puttin' up with yer master an' the captain's squabblin', don't it?"

He had to admit she had a point. More than once he'd found himself eyeing his master's collection of Ishgardian wine and thinking he could nick a bottle. "Today's fight was quite spectacular, wasn't it?"

"'Spectacular' ain't the word I'd use, but aye, it was one for the ages."

"I don't understand what it is." While Honoroit was used to Emmanellain being a veritable thorn in the sides of those around him, he was at a loss to explain the frequency and intensity with which he quarreled with Sicard. More than once he had tried to gently suggest that perhaps his lord should reconsider the proposed business partnership with the Bloody Executioners. Yet, each time Emmanellain refused and promised to stop provoking the other man only for the two to be at one another's throats the next day.

"I wouldn't worry too much, lad. They'll figure it out soon enough."

"I'm not so certain. The contracts have already been drawn and agreed upon and still they fight."

"I weren't talkin' 'bout the business." Wastgeim smirked at him.

Honoroit stared at her. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

The roegadyn took another sip from her flask and leaned against the railing. "The captain don't usually let anyone get under his skin, 'less he cares about 'em. There ain't anyone on this star that has ever made him lose his temper faster than yer master." She gave the young elezen a sideways glance. "The captain is quite taken with yer master, an' from what I can tell, the feelin' is mutual. Trouble is neither of 'em has a clue what's got 'em all twisted up inside, an' it makes 'em angry instead."

"What? No." Honoroit shook his head. "That's not possible."

"Why not?"

"My lord Emmanellain is quite well known among the noble ladies in Ishgard."

"Aye? An' I suppose he has his eyes set on one lass in particular, right?"

Honoroit hesitated. "Yes, he does. He has been courting Lady Laniaitte for quite some time." Or rather, he'd been attempting to court Lady Laniaitte. Thus far he had yet to succeed in winning her over, but now that Honoroit thought on it, had Emmanellain ever truly pursued her? When he made overtures, he always did so in front of others. He never approached Laniaitte in private or did more than offer her empty platitudes. As for other women, Emmanellain would speak of their beauty and talk at them, however Honoroit couldn't recall a time when his lord did more than that. Was it all for show?

"It's never gone anywhere, has it?"

"No." His head swimming, he gripped the railing and exhaled in a rush of air. The idea that Emmanellain might be attracted to Sicard should have been absurd to him, but it was starting to make sense. After all, if rumors were to be believed about the late Haurchefant Greystone, he would hardly be the first son of Edmont de Fortemps to possess certain proclivities. "Even so, it is difficult to imagine my lord fancies Master Spence in that fashion."

"I think it's just as hard for the two of 'em, too," Wastgeim said. "Given what I know about you noble types, I doubt his lordship ever knew such a thing were possible. As for the captain, well, maybe it's the first time a man has caught his fancy." She shrugged.

"I still don't quite believe that's true, but if you are correct, then what will the crew think should the two of them ever…come to terms with their affection?"

"If yer worried about mutiny or some other sort of retaliation, then ye can relax. At worst we might tease 'em both a bit, but no more than we do anyone else who finds love." She smiled and clapped a hand on the young elezen's shoulder. "We don't care much who shares whose bed so long as ye do yer job, an' there ain't no one I trust more to run this crew than the captain. If anythin' we'll be relieved if they sort themselves out 'fore they blow a hole in the ship."

Honoroit had been unaware of the tension in his shoulders until Wastgeim's reassurance eased him somewhat. While he wasn't wholly convinced his master harbored feelings for Sicard, he was glad to know no one among the Executioners would look down on him for it.

"Well, I best be gettin' back to me rounds." The roegadyn pushed away from the railing with a grunt. "Don't want to run afoul of the captain's temper after he's been dealin' with yer master." She gave the page a playful wink.

"And I will make sure to keep my lord out of Master Spence's hair a bit longer." He chuckled. "Have a good night, Wastgeim."

She touched the rim of her hat in a sort of farewell gesture before walking away to leave Honoroit alone at the bow once more. He turned his head up to gaze at the moon high over his head. Before long his thoughts turned to the many myths he'd read regarding the goddess Menphina the Lover. With little to lose, he offered up a silent prayer.

If there is love to be found between Lord Emmanellain and Master Spence, then I pray for your aid in revealing their hearts to one another.

[penroseparticle]

Penrose Song of the Day Bonus Track: Folded Out by Stolen Jars

Help, I'm experiencing skill gap. If you only read one song of the day read this one, it's just as personal and not as private.

There's a lot of music. A LOT! There's too much music. (There will never be enough). There are so many songs and styles and instruments and conventions and broken expectations and formats and hooks and methods.

Music is probably the largest language I care to learn, after math (Which is just music before we could hear it). So it's frustrating to want to have the language to talk about it without having that language.

This is not a song that I had ever heard of until today. But it is an instant classic. Shoutout to @Telomar, someone I greatly respect the musical tastes of. I'm a bit afraid of it actually, which feels good to admit. A relief to stop holding that insecurity tight to my body.

I don't know anything! I am a fraud, an idiot, a know nothing know it all. I think I know so much about music and I am simply not that smart. I like music but I don't know what I'm doing.

And I know that's not true, I don't know nothing. I played instruments, I can interrogate a text. I'm learning terminology and song structure and what my tastes are (not just things I like, but why I like them). I want to make music one day but I'm scared to start. I feel like I don't have enough time in the day to do everything I want to and this one is the one I'm most scared of. What if I suck. What if I'll never get decent, let alone good. What if the things I have to say are boring or bad or ugly or cruel. What if I've only ever thought I was musically inclined but I'm actually a tone deaf fop.

It's hard to be authentic, because for starters I'm sick of that asshole, and I think he's kind of overhyped, and basic as fuck. But I won't start being authentic by being afraid to be open right. I gotta admit the things I like, the things I don't know, and when I'm only learning. Stop pretending I know what's going on and be ok with saying I don't know what that is, what that means, who that is, what that song is. I instantly look them up, I listen, I give my honest feedback. I'm starting to pick out instrumentation tracks. I'm going to get good. I'm going to be perfectly hyped, and have something interesting to say.

But that starts by admitting my smallness. No one anywhere knows everything about their field, it is actually impossible. No one is expected to. All I can do is do my best at.

What's so intimidating about your tastes @Telomar is that your tastes are specific. I like that I can hear a song that you like and recognize why it's something you like, even if I can't name it yet. I'm starting to recognize genres that I would associate with you. I'm starting to interrogate different aspects of music that I wouldn't have before. I don't know, it makes me stretch in a good way. I want to meet you there, in your music. Maybe I decide I don't like the weather, or that I only want a summer home where you listen. But I want to know the roadmap of how to get there. I want to be able to find you in the ocean of sound, if that makes sense.

So I've been dabbling back and forth through a playlist of faves he has, doing some homework. Listening to music I never knew, music I like, some I don't care for. But none of it bad- I'm appreciating what's there more and more.

I want to know more. I can't sit on my laurels, I can't do nothing. I can't lose focus. If you care about something, you have to put in the effort right? Even if you're tired. You do what you can.

Folded Out has a country guitar sensibility. It has a delicate percussion. It has a clear, intriguing melody line for the guitar. The layering is slow, methodical, and clear. There's a homespun feel to the song. It's a bit of soft, sweet Stomp Clap. It's cute. It gives you that chest feeling. It's good. Good job Stolen Jars. Good job.

Anyways, have a second song of the day because writing the Bare one unclogged something.

You could be dead right now. Go listen to something you love.

[the-greatadventures]

Ocean Blue Eyes - Isaac Lahey

Isaac Lahey x OC (Erizabeth Whittemore)

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Erisa’s p.o.v.

Isaac Lahey, where to start?

Maybe I could start with his hair, his curly blonde hair that I wish I could run my hands through. Or his eyes, which were as blue as the ocean and ones that I could look into for hours and still be entranced by them. Or his smile, which seemed to get brighter every time he looked at me.

I had fallen hard for Isaac Lahey, and didn’t even realise it until my best friend, Lydia Martin pointed it out.

“Hey, Isa, are you even listening to me at this point,” Lydia said to me as she snapped her fingers in front of my face.

I turned to face her from where I was looking at Scott, Isaac and Stiles as they talked to each other, probably about lacrosse or something supernatural related.

“I am Lyds, I kind of just zoned out,” I replied sheepishly as I looked down at my tray.

Lydia eyed me, and smirked, “So… when are you going to tell him, I know you like him.”

I stared wide-eyed at her, “I don’t know what you mean,” I denied, “I definitely don’t like Isaac with his golden hair and ocean-blue eyes.”

Lydia let out a short laugh at that, “Sure you don’t Erisa, I see the way you look at each other, and it’s the way Jackson used to look at me, with love in his eyes,” she whispered the last part to herself.

“I really don’t want to know the way my brother looked at you, it’s bad enough knowing that you two were having sex in the room next to me,” I said.

I heard a cough behind Lydia, and looked up into some sparkling blue eyes.

“Hey Lydia, hey Risa, can I sit here,” Isaac said.

“Yeah, sure. I was just leaving anyway, you can have my seat,” Lydia said to me. As she was leaving the lunch room she turned back around and winked at me.

“So…” Isaac began, “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”

My eyes widened, “I haven’t been looking at you, I mean not in a bad way, you just look so nice all the time… oh god I should just stop talking,” I rambled.

Isaac let out a laugh, and I swear my heart skipped several beats in my chest and I just hoped that Isaac didn’t hear it.

“Hey, don’t worry Risa, I like it when you ramble, and,” he leaned in closer to me, “I didn’t initially hear your heart skip a beat, but when you said that I definitely remember hearing it.”

I cursed under my breath, “Look Isaac, what do you want? I don’t believe you just came here to laugh at me, so what do you want?”

Isaac looked down at the table, and I could see a slight blush come up on his cheeks, “Erm, I just wanted to say that you look really nice today, not that you don’t look nice every day,” he rambled, as he scratched the back of his neck, “I actually wanted to ask you on a date, we’ve known each other for so long, and you’ve always been there with open arms when everything happened with my dad, that I wanted to ask you on a date, cause I like you more than a friend.”

I sat there in stunned silence for a while, until I felt my cheeks heat up, Isaac Lahey, the guy I’ve been crushing on for about 4 years likes me back, “Sure Isaac, I’ll go on a date with you.”

He smiled and stood up, “I’ll pick you up on Friday at 7 pm, wear something smart but not too smart,” he said. He rounded the table and kissed me on the cheek, “I’ll see you after school for our usual study session, right?”

All I could do was nod.

“See ya then,” he waved at me as he passed by Scott and Stiles’ table they congratulated him.

‘So that’s what they must have been talking about earlier’ I thought.

I sat there in stunned silence as the lunch bell rang, and I had to quickly grab my stuff and basically run to class.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Taglist:

@dashkana @coco25 @padfootsworld @cece-lives-here @books-netflix-and-pizza @withered-poppies @rogershoe @of-all-things-crazy11 @princessmarsofearth @psychichologramgalaxy @afuckingdisasterreally @spoooyxxqueen @linkpk88 @fandomstuffff @thesewordsareallihavetogive @chennyetomlinson

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #58

It is 11PM where I live. But I am finally home. M and all our cats were waiting for J and I to return home. It's good to be back.

I ended up going to sleep very late the night before, and the sleep I did get was very broken. Then we woke up at around 6am. I have less than 6 hours of sleep, and over 7 hours of being in a car; it's hard to keep my eyes open as I write this. But I wanted you to know that you are being thought about by someone, somewhere. And I wanted to show you all the beautiful things I saw today. I'll leave pictures and brief explanations of them; I think that's all I can muster, because words are hard right now.

The hotel we stayed at in Pennsylvania had breakfast! I'll show you the lineup; you'll catch my reflection in some glass in one of these, if you look carefully:

Here's what the rest of the dining area looked like:

This is the plate I fixed for myself! I know it doesn't look fancy, but it's still very good:

This is the small table that J and I sat at to eat:

These flowers are made of cloth, but I still really liked how they looked as the morning sun splashed upon them!

Here are some pictures of the airplane that J examined after we were done with breakfast:

While J and the mechanics went over the plane, I decided to pass the time by finishing up weaving that tree. It's still amethyst on copper wire. Been working on this one a while now; good to finally have it done:

While weaving this tree, I was lucky enough to converse briefly with the pilot who is selling the plane. He has made a whole career of flying airplanes, and he has been all over the world! I felt very privileged to be able to listen to his stories and to hear him speak fondly on cultures that are very different from the dominant culture in the United States. It was very rare and refreshing; I feel like a lot of people in my country tend to look down on other cultures, and I feel very sad in response to that. I'm glad that this person doesn't turn his nose up at people who live differently than he does.

The plane that J examined was in good shape! I think he feels good about going with this one! I am excited for him, and I'm very proud of him for all the things he's had to overcome in order to get to the point where he felt he could do such a thing.

Before we left, I affixed this to the whiteboard at the airport over there:

It's just a very small thing. I imagine no one will pay it any heed. But still... if there's some way I can help you, any way I can help you to turn yourself around, to bring you safely home, to see a world in which you can have peace... I'll do whatever I can think of. But I'm not very smart, admittedly. So all my weird handicrafts, these letters, this request on your behalf... this is the best I have, at least for now. I'm sorry that I can't seem to do more.

...Still, I daydream sometimes of a world in which you have a quiet house to yourself, someplace where your friends can easily find and visit you if you want, but also where no one can bother you if you don't want folks to come around. A garden. Maybe some beekeeping equipment. A lake or ocean nearby if you wanna go swimming. A nice kitchen with a lot of space to prepare all sorts of tasty things. A spot to paint pictures. A spot to read wholesome things. Plenty of flavorful teas. Soaps scented with roses and vanilla. Fluffy towels. A nice big tub to soak in at the end of the day, if you want to - big enough even for you to stretch fully in and still be submerged. A toasty fireplace. Plenty of comfortable, but sturdy clothing, and warm, fuzzy pajamas. Soft beds and comfy pillows and weighted blankets. And a reasonably sized screen to put Mushi-Shi on (I think you'd like this series; very mysterious and awe-inspiring). Maybe a few cats, or dogs.

I dream of peace and wholesomeness for you. A life in which you don't have to fight if you don't want to. A life in which you are not commodified, objectified, and consumed by other people who care nothing for who you are, instead prioritizing whatever prestige that they think they can get from being in your presence. I can't even begin to imagine how stressful such a thing must be for you. I'd probably end up feeling overwhelmed and very lonely almost all the time in such a position. I'm sorry you had to deal with this for such a long time.

...In any case. I managed to snag this picture of the sky on the way back:

...But then it started to snow, and the snow chased us all the way back home. The scenery on the way looked like this the entire way back: whited out, blurry, and with poor visibility:

Though I couldn't get any good pictures of scenery for you, we did pass a lot of roadsigns with funny, interesting, or curious city names. Some of my favorites were:

Toftrees Waddle Altoona (this one is fun to say! "Al-tooooona!" give it a try, haha!) Sayre Tipton Hollidaysburg Gallitzin (is this the name of a city or a Pokemon? Haha!) Hollsopple McElhattan (mackel-hatten!! Dunno if that's right, but it's fun to say!) Waverly Lounsberry

...There were more silly ones. And a place called "Rubisch Road" that I laughed entirely too hard at because I pronounced it as "rubbish", even though it might be "roobish". J was very amused at my cackling! Ahahaha~!

We stopped for snacks at a Wendy's. It's a burger place that isn't especially high quality, but it's still pretty yummy! The employees in the back seemed stressed out, so after we put in our order, I made sure to meet their eyes and thank them. The one in the purple shirt got a great big smile on his face, and it was beautiful. It's important to treat people like people, especially when they're stuck for a long time doing a job in which most people talk down to them, berate them, refuse to acknowledge them, and generally fail to treat them like actual human beings. Service industry jobs like these are some of the hardest ones there are, so it baffles me that they pay so little.

When when we got our food, there was an extra order of fries. The manager, who had bangs dyed blue and a grin on her face said that there had been a "miscommunication", and somehow that led to us getting free fries, I guess??? I certainly won't complain, because they're pretty tasty!

We drove for a long time, and then we needed gas. So we stopped at a place called "Sheetz". I wanted to see what kinds of snacks they had, because snacks are essential for any road trip! And I ended up finding SOCKS!! Specifically, unicorn and rainbow heart print cozy socks!! I was not expecting that, hahaha! I took a picture of them after we got home. Here:

...You can bet that I'll be wearing different ones on each foot! Because that is how I do!!

...Fwhoof. It's really getting hard for me to formulate sentences and to keep my eyes open. I wanna write more to you, because I had so many more ideas, but... it's almost 12:30am now, where I live. I have to go to bed, or else I might turn back into a pumpkin (wait, what???)!!!

Hey, you. Don't forget, okay? You're lovable and worthy and good. And you gotta keep yourself safe and you gotta make it through the end of it all okay this time, or else lots of people are going to be really, really sad. Understand? Make good, kind, gentle, and peaceful choices so that you can come back home. We're all waiting for you. We're whispering little lullabies, just for you. You're not alone.

I'll write again tomorrow, as I always do.

Your friend, Lumine

[mistydeyes]

HHHHHHHHIIIII 😭😭😭 is it okay if I can request a MWII pair-up? thank you if you do this and just wanna add that ur writing is so GRJRJRKKKSL

Appearance:

I am a Mexican girl with a medium beige skin tone and a bunch of moles around my body. I have dark brown eyes with long lashes. Dark-ish brown hair that is type 2C and a medium length. I have dark circles some are kindaaa deep. I wear red glasses (my vision is crappy asf). I’d say I’m about 5’3 💀💀. Clothing wise, I really like a Twlight-inspired look, but also loveeeee Chicano-styled clothes.

Personality:

I’m a Leo and INTP. I’m mostly an ambivert, since I switch up constantly depending on who I’m with. Usually, I’m more extroverted, outgoing, and chatty around my friends. If I don’t like somebody–or don’t know them well enough–then I’m quiet and a bit distant. I daydream a lot, and can get easily distracted, and sometimes I zone out when I feel sad or nervous. I’m (thankfully) funny in the words of my friends, and can be a compassionate, caring, and shockingly smart person. At the same time, I’m the type of person who will overthink about having to stand in the front of the class to speak. I also have a bad case of anxiety LMAO

Hobbies/Likes/Skills

Some of my hobbies are drawing and writing, and listening to music while daydreaming. Usually when I’m writing, it’s more like journaling all of my thoughts into a piece of paper. I like a bunch of colors, but a lavender purple (including the scent) has to be one of my favs. My interests are honestly around learning about mental illnesses or anything related to psychology. But, I’ve always had a childhood hyperfixation on SPACEEE (and sometimes the ocean). Some of my skills are bilingualism (English, obviously, and Spanish), the ability to play the violin, running reaaal fast, and being a comedic genius (can you tell I’m lying to myself). OH OH and my fav–sea–animals are the jellyfish and manatee 🫶🫶. And if it helps, my fav artists are TV Girl, Lana Del Rey, and Cults!!!

Okay that’s about it I’m SO SORRY if I made it long. Hopefully you enjoyed reading that long ass paragraph(s). Thank you SO MUCH if you do end up paring me up with one of the lil meow meows, and hope you have a good rest of the day/night 🫶🫶 take ur time!!

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

How you met: Civilian You adored spending spring and summer in your home country. You didn't care what anyone said, Mexico was a little heaven on earth especially during the warmer months. Today, you decided to walk down to the local street market with some of your friends. You smiled as you walked amongst the various stands and watched as patrons purchased a variety of items. As you walked down another corridor of stands, you were attracted to one that sold flowers. You greeted the elderly stand owner and looked at the gorgeous array of bouquets. You finally settled on a beautiful arrangement of lilacs, hydrangeas, lilies, and your favorite, lavender. "Gracias," you gently said as you paid a fair price for the bouquet. You then continued on your way and tried to find your friends. However, you were distracted by someone arguing with a stand owner over the price of mangos. "This is bloody robbery," he exclaimed and you could see how sweat bounced off his arms which were perfectly showcased by a summer tank top. "This is the final price, sir," the owner firmly responded. You made your way to the stand as you were familiar with the owner. When he saw you approach, he smiled at you and warmly greeted you. "Diez 10 mangos para mi por favor," you happily said to the ire of the man next to you. As the owner prepared your fruits in a bag, you gave the man next to you a small smile. Once you were all paid, you knew your family friend had given you a discount. You took out 5 mangoes from your bag and gently handed it to him, much to the chagrin of the owner. "Thank you, lass," he replied in an accent reminiscent of Scotland or Ireland. "Enjoy your fruits," you remarked before continuing your shopping.

A peek into your relationship: After you helped Johnny with his precious fruit, it wasn't long until he found you again and asked for your number. That moment sparked a long distance relationship with constant texts and FaceTime calls. This time, you were flying on an 11hr flight to London. After some much needed rest, you and Johnny left the hotel to go to a museum he had planned and researched by himself. "Where are we going?" you asked as he helped to navigate through the winding streets and rail lines. "You'll see, bonnie," he simply replied and kissed your forehead. After the maze of directions, you finally arrived to your destination, the Royal Observatory. It took about 1 conversation for Johnny to realize your love for space and astronomy and he knew this was a perfect destination. You felt like a child in a candy store as you navigated through the exhibits and had him take pictures of you next to every picture of the galaxy and historic telescopes. "I saved the best for last," he said as he led you into a large room. You both sat patiently as you waited for the show to begin. Suddenly, the room grew dark and the crowd hushed as the ceiling above you turned into a gorgeous display of stars. Your eyes lit up at the sight and through the reflection of your glasses, Johnny could tell you were taking in the wonders before you. "A view of the stars for, mi estrella," he joked and besides his very poor attempt at Spanish, you blushed at the comment. Before he could say anything more, you quickly shushed him as you attentively listened to the musings of a scientist presenting. He simply laughed and threw his arm around you, happy he had planned an impressive date.

[intheshadowofwar]

25 June 2023

Consigned to the Deep

Gallipoli 25 June 2023

The battleships that made up Admiral John de Robeck’s fleet on the 18th of March 1915 weren’t really the apex of the British and French navies. Apart from the ultra-modern Queen Elizabeth, a ‘super-dreadnought’ with fifteen inch guns, and the battlecruiser Inflexible, the fleet was a bit like entering a fleet of VW Beetles into a V8 Supercars race at Bathurst. These old battlewagons - ‘pre-dreadnoughts,’ as they predated the revolutionary HMS Dreadnought which was faster, hardier and better armed then all that came before her - were elderly, almost geriatric in naval terms. The French Bouvet dated back to 1893.

Nevertheless, even old battleships can make a considerable impression when one has eighteen of them, and on that March day, de Robeck hoped to utilise his apparently superior firepower to blast the Turkish forts covering the ‘Narrows,’ while civilian ships swept the mines blocking his path. Once through the Dardanelles, he would be into the Sea of Mamara, with only the German-crewed battlecruiser Yavuz, formerly Goeben, between his fleet and the Bosphorous. They would place Constantinople under the guns and force the surrender of the Ottoman Empire.

It is this day that the Turkish people commemorate - not the 25th of April. Here, the Ottoman defenders in the forts and on the howitzers covering the Narrows stared down the might of the most powerful navies in the world and held them off. Precious battleships were badly damaged, as was Inflexible. Bouvet hit a mine and was lost with all but seventy-five of her crew. HMS Ocean, moving to assist, was struck by shellfire and further mines and had to be abandoned, as was HMS Irrestable. Far from an easy victory, the Naval Battle of the Dardanelles had become an expensive setback.

In truth, the British were breaking a key rule of naval warfare, one set down by Lord Nelson himself - ‘a ship’s a fool to fight a fort.’ You do not send your ship to fight a gunnery duel with fortifications - that is what your marines are for. Like everything else about this squalid campaign, the effort of the 18th of March was doomed. This does not invalidate the bravery of the Turks, nor does it denigrate their performance, particularly in quickly moving artillery to protect it from naval gunfire. It’s simply another example of the almost criminally haphazard planning of the operation.

This was a very longwinded way to tell you that I crossed the Narrows today, isn’t it?

The town of Canakkale sits on the Asian side of the Dardanelles - the Gallipoli Peninsula is on the European side, on that little bit of Turkey that borders Greece and Bulgaria. (This was actually important during the war - the entry of Bulgaria into the war on Germany’s side in October 1915 was one of the last nails in the coffin of the Gallipoli campaign, and troops were now sent to join the even more idiotic campaign at Salonika in Greece.) To get there from Gallipoli, one has to cross via car ferry, which gives excellent views of the landscape around the Narrows. If you listen carefully as you look at the preserved forts, you can hear Nelson rolling in his grave.

We reached the Asian side of the Dardanelles around 9.30 and drove a little way out of town to the (alleged) site of Troy. (I say ‘alleged’ of course because we don’t really know if this is actually, or if Troy actually existed. My theory is that Homer conflated a number of towns and conflicts into ‘Troy’ and ‘the Trojan War.’ Or he might have just been wrong - Homers aren’t known for being smart.) My verdict on the site? Well, there’s bricks. There’s holes. There’s bricks in holes. There was definitely a city here once, but most of what we can say about it is educated guesswork. So I looked at these bricks, I said ‘yep,’ and then I went to the cafe and had an ice cream. That was my adventure in Troy - my Troy Story, if you will.

(I’ve always preferred Woodyseus to Oddyseus anyway.)

We returned to Cannakkale and were unleashed upon the town for a few hours, so naturally I found a naval museum. This is based around an old fort that dates from the reign of Mehmet the Conquerer - the fifteenth century sultan who captured Constantinople and destroyed the last remnant of the Eastern Roman Empire. The grounds now serve as a staging post for an eclectic mix of naval and land artillery, mines, torpedoes and even the skeleton of a First World War German U-Boat, recovered from the deep. There’s also a fibreglass replica of the minesweeper Nusret, but quite alarmingly I couldn’t find it. I sincerely hope the museum remembered to tie it up, or it might be halfway to Malta by now.

Inside the keep is a Turkish museum about the Gallipoli campaign. It isn’t terribly modest, and I noted a few errors (a diorama of W Beach seems to be mislabelled as V Beach), but it didn’t strike me as too odd to see a museum in which ‘we’ are the bad guys. If one changed the word ‘martyred’ for ‘sacrified,’ and the word ‘Turkish’ for ‘Anzac,’ this could be a wing in an Australian museum. There was also a little more music than a comparable museum in Australia - at least for now, the last thing we want to do is give the AWM ideas. (I remember the First World War gallery having this sad song playing over the exit for a while - it was meant to be evocative, but all it really evoked was the sensation of having your eardrums blasted out any time you dared to go near the 1918 section. It was the equivalent of having Brendan Nelson smash you over the head with a shovel while screaming at you to feel ‘proud but sad.’)

We headed back to Gallipoli at around 4pm. I rested for a while. Maddi did not, as she and our professor reconnitered Rhododendron Ridge to test it’s viability for a group walk. We had meant to do Walker’s Ridge, but erosion in that area has become so great that it barely exists anymore, and walking it in any numbers would have been impossible. Rhododendron, the path the New Zealanders walked to Chunuk Bair, was the alternative, and the scout party found it workable. Maddi’s reward was to go right back to Chunuk Bair, join the group, and do it all again.

Our professor, I must add, is about sixty-seven years old. He has the energy of someone a tenth of his age. This leads to the absurd image of a mild-mannered bespectacled man with grey hair leaping and bounding over the most precarious ground ahead of a whole group of exhausted, sweaty twenty-somethings who can’t navigate a small bump in the track without slowing to a crawl. He would be standing on the narrowest, wildest part of the trail, motioning us forward as if we were strolling the Strand, and I’d be fifty meters back contemplating calling for a surgeon to saw off both my legs.

The walk, arduous though it was, was absolutely stunning, with amazing views of Monash Valley, the Nek, and out towards both Anzac Cove and Suvla Bay. It’s littered with the detritus of the campaign - we found a button from an Australian soldier’s tunic and a rum bottle buried in the ground. Both of these we left. Our professor is of the opinion that the relics found at Gallipoli should stay where they were found. I’m personally conflicted. I think some of this should be preserved so that they don’t simply rust away, but I’m also aware that - as Bean himself said - the whole of Gallipoli is one massive grave, and perhaps taking them to a museum could be considered grave-robbing. I suppose it depends on your morals.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention our scout here - Lance-Corporal Nigel, who journeyed with us all the way from Chunuk Bair to the sea.

We ended at the Embankment Cemetary, returned to the bus, and headed back to base. My feet hurt and I think I’ll be picking brambles out of my socks for days (even accounting for my wearing of cargo pants), but I’m very glad I did the walk. I think ordeal is often a part of visiting battlefields - if they could fight here, the least we can do is shed a little sweat. But my body yearns for a soft bed, and I can no longer deny it, so we’ll leave this for tonight here.

[getblogposting]

The Future of Sustainable Manufacturing Practices

Manufacturing is changing. In the past, factories focused mainly on making things as quickly and cheaply as possible. But now, people realize that we need to protect the planet too. This means we must find ways to make products without hurting the environment.

Sustainable manufacturing is about finding ways to create products while reducing waste, using less energy, and being mindful of resources. One example of this change is the use of PP Woven Fabric. This fabric is strong, reusable, and can be recycled. It’s being used more and more in packaging, construction, and textiles because it helps reduce waste and supports the idea of sustainability.

The Need for Sustainable Materials

As we work to protect the planet, using sustainable materials in manufacturing has become more important than ever. Factories and businesses are looking for new ways to make products that are kinder to the environment. Let’s explore why sustainable materials are needed and how PP Woven Fabric plays a role in this.

Reducing Environmental Damage

Traditional materials, like plastic and certain metals, take a long time to break down and can harm the earth. When these materials are thrown away, they often end up in landfills or oceans, polluting our planet. Sustainable materials, on the other hand, are designed to either break down more easily or be reused.

Meeting Consumer Demand

More people are asking companies to be responsible for the products they make. Customers want items that are eco-friendly and don’t harm the environment. Businesses are listening to this demand by switching to materials that are more sustainable.

Long-Term Benefits for Companies

Choosing sustainable materials isn’t just good for the planet—it’s good for business too. Companies that switch to eco-friendly options can save money in the long run by reusing materials and reducing waste. They can also attract more customers who care about the environment.

Innovations in Energy-Efficient Manufacturing

As the world looks for ways to reduce pollution and save energy, manufacturing companies are coming up with new ideas to use less power. By using smart technologies and making changes to how factories work, companies can help protect the environment. Let’s look at some of the innovations in energy-efficient manufacturing and polypropylene woven fabric material into this trend.

Using Renewable Energy

Many factories are now using renewable energy sources like solar and wind power. These energy sources don’t run out, and they don’t pollute the air like coal or oil. Factories can install solar panels on their roofs or use wind turbines to generate the energy they need to run their machines.

Smart Manufacturing Technology

Today, many factories use smart technologies like robots and computers to make their work more efficient. These machines can be programmed to use less energy, work faster, and reduce waste. This not only saves energy but also cuts down on costs.

Reducing Energy in Transport

Another way companies are saving energy is by finding ways to cut down on transportation. When materials are heavy, it takes more fuel to move them from one place to another. But PP Woven Fabric is light and easy to transport, which helps reduce the amount of fuel needed for shipping.

The Role of Circular Economy in Sustainable Manufacturing

The circular economy is a new way of thinking about how we make and use products. Instead of creating things that are used once and thrown away, the circular economy focuses on reducing waste by reusing, recycling, and repairing items. This helps protect the environment and saves resources. 

What is the Circular Economy?

In the past, most products were made in a "take, make, and waste" system. This means companies took resources, made products, and then the products were thrown away after being used. The circular economy is different because it focuses on reusing materials as much as possible.

Reusing and Recycling PP Woven Fabric

One of the best things about PP Woven Fabric is that it’s very strong and can be used again and again. For example, a reusable shopping bag made from PP woven fabric can last for many years. This reduces the need for single-use plastic bags, which are harmful to the environment.

Reducing Waste in Manufacturing

The circular economy also helps reduce waste in factories. Instead of throwing away leftover materials, manufacturers can find ways to reuse them. For example, if a factory has leftover PP Woven Fabric after making bags, it can use the scraps to create other products, like smaller packaging items or even new fabric rolls.

Supporting a Greener Future

The circular economy isn’t just good for businesses—it’s good for everyone. By focusing on reducing waste and reusing materials, we can create a cleaner, healthier planet. Companies that use PP Woven Fabric are already helping to build this greener future by choosing materials that fit perfectly into the circular economy model.

Regulatory Pressures and Corporate Responsibility

As the world becomes more concerned about the environment, governments are creating rules to make sure companies follow sustainable practices. At the same time, businesses are realizing that they have a responsibility to help protect the planet. These two factors—regulatory pressures and corporate responsibility—are driving companies to adopt greener ways of working. 

What Are Regulatory Pressures?

Regulatory pressures are laws and rules created by governments to make sure businesses are acting in ways that are good for the environment. These rules might include reducing pollution, cutting down on waste, or using more eco-friendly materials.

For example, many countries now have laws that require companies to use recyclable materials in their products. PP Woven Fabric is a good choice for companies trying to follow these rules because it can be reused and recycled, helping reduce waste and meet environmental standards.

Corporate Responsibility: Doing the Right Thing

Corporate responsibility means that companies take action on their own to help the environment, even without being forced by the government. More and more businesses are understanding that they need to think about the long-term impact of their work on the planet. This might include using renewable energy, reducing their carbon footprint, or choosing sustainable materials.

How Companies Benefit

Following environmental regulations and acting responsibly aren’t just good for the planet—they’re good for business too. Companies that choose eco-friendly options often earn a better reputation, attract more customers, and sometimes even save money in the long run by reducing waste and energy use.

Certifications and Standards

Many companies are also aiming to earn certifications that show they are following the best environmental practices. These certifications, like the ISO 14001 for environmental management, prove that a company is working to reduce its environmental footprint. Using sustainable materials like silt fences helps businesses meet the requirements for these certifications.