#us national photography month

[jstor]

From all of us at JSTOR, happy Black History Month!

The profound impact of African American writers, artists, politicians, and academics, along with countless others, is indelibly etched into the fabric of American history–and we'll be highlighting them all month long.

Image credit: 

Fink, Larry (1941-2023). Malcolm X, Rally for Birmingham, Harlem, NY, May, 1963. 1963, printed 2019. Archival pigment print, 22 x 17 in. (55.88 x 43.18 cm). 

Levy, Mark. Mississippi Freedom Summer 1964. 1964. Queens College Special Collections and Archives.

Borg, Erik. Toni Morrison. August 26, 1977. 

Lisa Kuzia. Angela Davis. 1980-1985. Black and white photography, 4 3/4 x 3 3/4 in. Special Collections and Archives, Colby College Libraries, Waterville, Maine. 

Padow-Sederbaum, Phyllis. Junior NAACP Demonstration. 1963. Queens College Special Collections and Archives. 

Allied Printing Trades Council. Placard from Memorial March Reading “HONOR KING: END RACISM!” 1968.  National Museum of African American History and Culture; On View: NMAAHC (1400 Constitution Ave NW), National Mall Location, Concourse 1, C1 053; Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. 

Created by C. M. Battey, American. W.E.B. Du Bois/. 1918. Silver and photographic gelatin on photographic paper. National Museum of African American History and Culture; Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. 

Mosley, John W. Civil Rights Demonstrators at Girard College. Philadelphia PA: Temple University Libraries, 1965-07-17. Charles L. Blockson Afro-American Collection.

[hereticpriest]

Muse

Fandom: Rush

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Niki Lauda x reader

Warnings: Some time period typical misogyny, heavy flirting, rough sex, semi-public handjob, road head, semi-public blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), deep-throating, face-fucking, vaginal fingering, soft femdom, soft bondage, switch Niki, switch reader, cum-eating, cum as lube, use of protection (condoms, birth control pills), lack of protection, pull-out method, possessive Niki, enthusiastic consent, consensual somnophilia, consensual free use, woman on top, mating press, breeding kink resulting in pregnancy.

Only a favour could ever get you onto one of these hellspawn racetracks. Only Tony fucking Olsworth, your oldest friend in the world, your biggest mentor, and the man who first helped you sell your photographs to some of the most prestigious newspapers across the world could get you to the Argentina Grand Prix. He was the first person to ever see you for who you were and what you could do, and believe in the success of both. Talent recognizes talent, afterall. Tony saw you, saw how good your eye was, and helped you get to where you were today. So, of course, when he broke his arm and bruised a couple of ribs in an accident and couldn’t fulfil a contract for photographs of the first Formula One race of the 1975 season, he knew exactly who to call. The only person in the world he would trust to take over for him, despite never having done any photography for driving.

You were fresh off of taking some award-winning photos for the MLB World Series in October, followed by a month of chasing insane assholes around the world while they did nonsense like free-climbing and hang gliding. Despite not being your usual niche, National Geographic paid quite a bit for the photographs along with your colleague Miguel Amalia’s multi-page spread article. You’d been hoping for a bit of a break before the start of the new year - plenty of sports took place in the early half of the year, and you had plans to be at the best of the best. You were going to go to the spa, pamper yourself, maybe even go to a few galleries.

Until Tony.

“Look at you, doll! You look wonderful. Not at all like you’ve been scrambling up mountains god knows where and camping in the wilderness. And look at you now, in beautiful Argentina, at the start of the season of the best sport in the world!” The older man cheers at the sight of you, champagne in one hand, the other in a cast from wrist to shoulder. You don’t know how he could possibly be so happy considering his broken arm and bruised ribs, but Tony’s always been a strange one. Despite not having to be here, and having you as his official replacement, he still showed up, his white-blond hair perfectly coiffed back to show off a round, cheerful face. The crows feet around his hazel eyes wrinkle further as he offers you a pearly-white, toothy smile, and you can’t help but smile at his jolly face. He’s here both to show you around, and because he hadn’t missed a Formula One race in years. He was a fan as well as a photographer.

“You’re delusional, Tony, honey, you must be getting sunstroke. There are far more entertaining sports out there where two people don’t die per season.” You retort, walking with him as he leads you through the facility and explains the different teams to you. He’s dressed for the warm weather in a salmon shirt and khaki shorts, the material breezy and loose for good air flow. You’re only half listening if you’re being perfectly honest, distracted by the sights of drivers and mechanics scurrying around cars. If nothing else, the colours will pop well in photographs.

“I want you to see the qualifying races so you can understand some of this a little better, and get the timing down. It’s a good time to get to know the drivers as well. Brabham are the ones to watch this year, you just wait and see.” Tony explains, and you hum noncommittally, “Carlos Reutemann and Carlos Pace. Argentina and Brazil respectively. This is Reutemann’s home Grand Prix.”

You nod along with Tony, looking at the drivers he points out, until he gets called away by a reporter he knows for a quick chat. He tries to bring you along, but you excuse yourself from the conversation, wandering instead. One thing you can say for Formula One in comparison to other sports is that the drivers are very different from other athletes. It’s nice to see some variation for once, though you notice throughout the drivers themselves a somewhat similar aesthetic cropping up. From a distance, you notice a dark blond, delightfully curly-haired man in a red racing suit with rather striking features. Eyes a piercing blue, a fairly obvious overbite that pushes his upper lip out in an endearing manner and makes his chin look somewhat weak in comparison, and gorgeous facial structure. Statuesque, almost, like he should’ve been sculpted from marble. He’s thin, and not particularly tall as is typical of drivers, but he looks almost soft in a way that appeals to you.

Not stereotypically pretty, certainly, but interesting. And isn’t that what you crave most of all? Some small spark in this drab, grey world of people who all seem to always try and look exactly alike? Isn’t that why you refused to go into advertising photography despite the good pay and the many offers you received? So many people nip and tuck away their unique features that would make them interesting. Crooked teeth or gaps, freckles and moles, big or crooked noses, strong brows, weak chins, sallow cheeks, belly fat or loose skin. All of it is so much more compelling than symmetry or median appearances. You loathe being bored, and frankly, you find a certain boringness in attractiveness. That’s why you let your passion (and fear, frankly) drag you up the sides of mountains, to countless countries all across the world, even in the worst weather imaginable. That’s why despite disliking extreme sports, you still accept contracts to photograph them, accepting the risk to both the athletes and yourself. You’re only human, and a selfish one at that.

Your camera is in your hands before you even notice what you’re doing, and you steady yourself carefully, adjusting your settings to account for the bright day and distance. The man, whoever he is, pushes his hair out of his eyes as he examines his car, and you grin as you get a rather lovely shot of him laughing at something a nearby mechanic says to him. He turns slightly and you notice his suit is undone to the waist, exposing his lovely tummy and a delicious amount of body hair that you can’t help but snap a photo of. You’re completely in the zone, oblivious to the world around you when Tony steps up beside you.

“Ahh, I see you’ve met our King Rat.” Your mentor hums pleasantly, and you blink, lowering the camera so you can peer at him in stunned confusion.

“The who?” You ask, figuring you’ve misheard him. Tony raises his eyebrows at you like he thinks you might be a bit daft, then gestures with his champagne glass widely towards the man you’ve instinctively locked in on.

“Niki Lauda, darling. He’s a driver for Ferrari, with Clay Regazzoni as his teammate. The dark-haired chap with the ‘stache. They call Lauda the Austrian Rat.” Tony explains, then gestures towards his mouth with a grimace, “You know, his unfortunate… well, overbite situation.”

Your head tilts, and you stare blankly at your oldest friend for several moments before looking around you at the rest of the people at the Grand Prix. Press, drivers, officials, mechanics and countless other people involved in making Formula One run smoothly. Countless people who must be intelligent to be able to keep this all running with minimal hiccups.

“All of them? Call him this?” You clarify, and Tony must register your shock for he clears his throat a little and looks mildly ashamed of himself.

“Well, yes, it’s not a very kind nickname but it is extremely common… unfortunately, of course. Poor chap probably doesn’t deserve it, even if he is known to be a bit of an asshole.”

You look around again, then lift your camera to peer at who you now know to be Niki Lauda, finding him frowning at a man in a similarly vibrant red racing suit to his. Clay Regazzoni, then, you put together the obvious context clues - the man certainly has a well-groomed moustache. Even with an unimpressed look on his face, Lauda is still striking, and you snap another photo of him leaning into the seat of the car to examine something before looking at Tony again.

“Is everyone in this horrid sport brainless? I’ve met more intelligent boxers, and they get punched in the face for a living.” You muse, and Tony laughs into his champagne, spluttering as he chokes on it.

“I think the point is for them to not get punched in the head, my dear.” He corrects you, and you roll your eyes. As you go back to your camera, Tony observes you, finishing off his glass, “Are you intending on taking photos of anyone other than the rat today?”

You scoff, taking a picture of the two Ferrari drivers together talking over their cars, gesturing somewhat animatedly, “Certainly, the moment one of them does anything even remotely interesting.”

Tony peers around the garages as if looking for something to contradict your blatant disinterest with, then follows your gaze.

“So, Niki Lauda standing still, talking to his teammate while gazing wistfully at his car is more interesting than any of the other drivers who might be doing the same thing?” Tony asks, and you can tell that he’s trying to make a point, but you’re not really interested in hearing him out when you know what he’s going to say.

“He’s actually compelling to look at, so yes.” You retort, and Tony exhales a laugh, fondness and amusement mixing with his annoyance to soften it nearly entirely.

“Alright, darling, take some photos of the other teams so you have at least something to sell that isn’t a photo of Lauda. Take some pictures of the Brabham team, maybe that handsome young Hunt chap that everyone is so riled up about, and then you can go back to stalking the Ferrari garage. At least you’ve found something to keep your interest in the races - I was a little nervous I might have to bribe you into paying attention.”

It’s good advice, and you know you’re meant to be taking photos for Tony, but it takes genuine effort to rip your gaze away from the Austrian driver. Tony leads you towards the Brabham area, and you obediently take several good photos of both Pace and Reutemann. Tony even takes the time to introduce you to them, and you pretend to listen while they discuss Tony’s injury. They’re nice enough, though you can blatantly tell that they’re only indulging you because you’re a woman.

This is a trend that repeats several times. Tony leads you from garage to garage, and most of the drivers are either nice enough to pose for photos, let you take candids, or tell you to stay out of their way. You’re not offended by the brusqueness. They’re preparing for a Grand Prix qualifier. Tony might not mind bothering the drivers while they’re obviously busy, but he has a relationship with most of these men. He’s known them for years.

As you meander your way through, Tony tells you which drivers will likely hit on you, preparing you so you’re not shocked. He even indicates a couple he doesn’t recommend being alone with for any length of time, though he tells you that’s for your comfort and not because he truly believes you’d be in any real danger. You’re pleased to find neither Ferrari driver on either of those lists.The Hesketh garage is abuzz as you approach it, and you raise an eyebrow sceptically at Tony, who leans in to your ear.

“James Hunt is the driver they’re all interested in. He has a lively fanbase, with a high female audience. Handsome, charming… Tall, even, for Formula One.” Tony muses, and you spot the blond in question. He’s stereotypically handsome, certainly. Blue eyes, long blond shaggy hair that looks well-maintained and soft, and enough muscle that he probably looks a little funny getting into one of those tiny Formula One cars paired with his height. His smile is wide and suave revealing nice, white teeth. Tony hasn’t met Hunt yet, but he leads you through the crowd and introduces you to a couple of mechanics he knows. Eventually, James catches your eye, and his smile reaches his eyes as he marches over. He greets Tony in a friendly way, clearly knowing him by reputation even if they haven’t met, a hand clapped gently on his cast. He expresses seemingly sincere regrets that Tony won’t be able to take photos of the race, but Tony reminds him that that simply means he gets to relax and enjoy it while you do all the work, directing the blond’s attention towards you.

“And who might this be?” Hunt asks, holding out his hand for you. When you take it to give him a handshake, he rotates it to kiss the back of your hand, and you snort.

“This work for you often, Mr. Hunt?” You ask, gently pulling your hand free and introducing yourself. He doesn’t seem put off by your dismissal of his attentions. If anything, he takes it in stride, immediately taking the clear no and getting back to business. He’s an agreeable man, letting you take all the photos you want, though you notice he struggles with letting you take candids. His awareness of the camera is almost preternatural, and you have to be particularly careful about staying out of his eyeline to get anything you’re particularly happy with. It’s a common issue - if people know you’re taking photos, they want to look their best. You don’t blame him.

Finally, Tony leads you back towards the Ferrari garage, and you sigh with relief that you won’t be wasting your entire roll of film. He keeps walking, though, closer and closer until you’re just outside of the barriers. You freeze up, snapping at Tony that you don’t want to meet this team, but he grins widely at you, his hand like a vice around your wrist.

“Come along, darling, don’t be impolite.” He teases, and you barely refrain from hissing at him like a child.

“Clay, my friend! I’ve come to wish you good luck, and introduce you to my colleague.” Tony says loudly as he approaches, and you barely wiggle your hand free before the moustached driver walks over with a friendly smile. He hugs Tony, slapping him on the back gently, then holding his cast.

“What is this? I was hoping the news about your accident was wrong.”

“I know, I know, a tragedy. I won’t be able to make you look good for once. Luckily, I brought along a dear friend who will hopefully do you justice.” Tony gestures to you, and you hold out your hand to Clay as you introduce yourself. He doesn’t try to kiss your knuckles, though you see the instinct flash in his eyes before he thinks better of it. You like him more just for that.

“A pleasure to meet you. I look best from the left, remember that.” Clay teases, and you can’t help but laugh. He’s pretty charming, in a different way than Hunt was, “Have you met Niki yet? Niki! Come socialise, it’s good for you.”

You stiffen at Tony’s side. You always hate meeting your muses for the first time, hesitant to have their allure ruined the minute they open their mouth. The Austrian driver steps out of the garage, a bottle of water in hand which he drinks from as he approaches. He looks as hesitant to meet you as you are to meet him. A certain shyness takes him over, and you examine him curiously, since he didn’t seem to have any issues with his teammate or mechanics earlier. Tony reaches out to greet Niki and introduces himself, then claps you on the back and pushes you forwards.

“My friend here will be subbing in for me, taking pictures of the race so that I don’t get a slap on the wrist. This is her first Formula One race, but she’s an accomplished sports photographer, so I think she’ll manage just fine.” Tony gives your shoulder a little shake, and you hold out your hand to Niki, who seems to hesitate for a moment before he takes your hand to brush his lips across your knuckles with the tiniest hint of a bow. Your cheeks are on fire, and you hope it isn’t obvious - you are a grown adult woman and you are not going to get flustered over a driver. And if you do, you’re going to hide it as best as you can. You freeze in place, not pulling your hand away until he drops it, and you squeeze your thighs together in a way you hope isn’t too obvious.

“A pleasure.” Niki says, and his accent is thick like molasses, sending a shiver up your spine. You smile at him, introducing yourself and trying not to wilt under Clay’s intense, almost knowing scrutiny. This is why you hate meeting your muses - you always feel so self-conscious, as if every act is under scrutiny. It doesn’t help that you’re actually attracted to this muse. Normally, it’s a platonic appreciation for someone’s form or the way they move, but Niki Lauda was a case of his own and you had to admit it, at least to yourself.

You wonder briefly if he has a girlfriend, and if he’s one of those athletes that tends to plough their way through their fans. You don’t notice a ring, but you know that that doesn’t mean anything in sports - rings interfere in many sports, and plenty of athletes don’t wear them even if they’re happily engaged in a committed monogamous marriage. You’d ask Tony, but you’re sure he’d make you regret it. 

“Not to worry, Niki, she won’t be hounding you for candids. I think she’s already got nearly a whole film roll of them by now.” Tony muses, and your eyes go wide as saucers while Niki simply looks confused.

“Tony.” You say warningly, but he ignores you.

“Perhaps she’ll spare a bit of her film for the other drivers.” He teases you, nudging your arm, and you grab Tony by his ear, earning a yelp from him.

“Excuse me, please.” You mutter to Clay and Niki, dragging Tony only a few feet away before giving him a gentle smack to his good arm.

“You’re going to make him think you’re making fun of him, not making fun of me, Tony. It’s rude. I can take a good ribbing, but you will NOT make other people uncomfortable to embarrass me, are we clear? Or I will walk off this track and you can find someone else to take these race photos for you. Am I understood?” You scold him, finger jabbing into his chest, and he looks suitably apologetic.

“I didn’t think of it like that.” Tony admits, and you jab him one more time.

“Of course you didn’t. Tease me all you like, but don’t involve other people in it. All you lot call him a rat - he doesn’t know that I think you’re all a bunch of idiots. He probably thinks I was making fun of him as well.” You put your hands on your hips, huffing at Tony while he apologises. You walk back over to the barrier, offering Niki what you hope is a sincere and reassuring smile.

“You’ll do well in your race. I won’t say good luck, since you don’t need it.” You inform him, then grin cheekily and wink at Clay.

“Good luck.” You tease as you wave at them and start to walk away, “Bye boys. Enjoy your race thing.”

~

Tony apologises to Niki once you’re out of earshot, and Clay grins widely at his teammate, nudging him a couple of times, seemingly thrilled with this new development. 

“You’ve got an admirer.” Clay informs him, and Niki scoffs, watching you walk away. He observes in silence as you crouch, snapping a couple of photos of another driver before he finally tears his gaze away. Clay claps him on the back and turns to Tony.

“So, she was taking pictures of Niki?” Clay presses, and Tony glances at you as if to make sure you’re far enough away before he agrees.

“She likes people with interesting features. She finds a lot of people… well, boring, I suppose. She told me once that I’d look boring too if my cheeks weren’t so round.” Tony admits, and Clay snorts, “when we got here, she took notice of Mr. Lauda over here. I’ll admit, she doesn’t usually like meeting people she finds interesting like that, so I brought her over here to tease her a little.”

Niki looks away from Tony, watching you as you walk towards the press area, pausing briefly to snap a couple of photos of seemingly random things. He’s soon knocked out of his thoughts by Clay bumping him on the arm as Tony departs, and he says a quick goodbye before heading into the garage to get his head in the game.

~

The walk back towards the press ring is long, and you stop several times to take photos along the way, several of which you think might just earn you a pretty penny. You crouch to take a photo of a neighbouring driver from below, highlighting him against the sun in a way that you think could be beautiful. Thank god you wore bell bottoms today instead of a skirt - you’d never be able to get these kinds of shots without flashing someone.

Tony rejoins you soon enough, a little subdued, though he snaps out of it when you tell him you’re actually kind of enjoying yourself. He promises that by the end of the first Grand Prix, you’ll be hooked, and begging him to take you along for the rest of the season. You remind him that you have a strict ‘no begging’ policy, and that you’d just get your own contract if you really wanted to stick around. Tony isn’t bothered, of course, just thrilled to have you interested in his favourite sport. He gives you earplugs, and you both watch the qualifiers, with Tony pointing out tips and tricks for getting good photos. He doesn’t even tease you when it becomes clear that your best ones are of Lauda, though you know it isn’t the last you’ve heard on that matter.

With the qualifiers finished and pole position set, you depart from the track with Tony and head for the dark room you’ve rented space in near your hotel. You spend a good few hours there, but by the end of it, you’ve got several pieces you just know are going to make you a hell of a lot of money, aside from just what you’re getting from Tony. You secure your film and developed photographs, and spend the rest of your evening on the phone with a couple of your contacts, selling your photographs and earning yourself a paid trip around the world following the Formula One races.

You send off several photos to a couple of publications via express mail early the next morning on your way to the track, though your spirits are dampened by the fact that Tony left a message at the front desk for you - he’s sick, and he won’t be able to come to the race today. You have no goddamn clue how you’ll find your way around despite being there just yesterday, but you suck it up, putting on a rather lovely cream button-up shirt dress with a belted waist, suitable heels that you can walk in, and over-sized sunglasses.

You’re early to the track simply because you had to leave so early to get your mail out, and plenty of the drivers aren’t there yet. You slip out of the taxi and, admittedly, meander around for a little while trying to refamiliarize yourself. The track is busier today, even this early, and you find yourself just a little lost without Tony there to guide you. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention when he was showing you around yesterday, but how were you supposed to know he was going to get sick? The man HATED missing even a single race.

“Hey!”

You nearly jump out of your skin as a loud, familiar voice calls out to you, accent thick and instantly recognizable. You freeze like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar despite knowing full well that you’re allowed to be here, and you swear you hear the faintest chuckle from the Austrian driver. And they called him ‘cold and serious’ in the articles you read about his unique start in Formula One last season. 

“Hello Niki.” You hum as you turn to face him, pushing your sunglasses up to rest on top of your head. He’s dressed in a short sleeve button-up shirt the same colour as his eyes, and jeans that you struggle to hide your appreciation for. It’s a simple outfit, but something about seeing him out of his racing suit is attractive. His pretty dark blond hair is pushed back out of his face, curls thankfully not brushed out, and he looks hesitant to be approaching you. You almost wish you kept the sunglasses on so you could eye him up without it being so obvious.

“You’re lost.” He accuses, and you laugh, shrugging your shoulders sheepishly.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes. You’ve been walking around aimlessly.” Niki retorts, and you snicker at his bluntness, stepping closer to him with a warm smile.

“Help a girl out? I wasn’t paying much attention to Tony’s tour yesterday, and I can’t remember where I’m supposed to be.” You offer the driver your best doe eyes, and it only takes him a moment of consideration before he closes the distance between you and offers you his arm. It’s a dash old-fashioned, but you let him play the gentleman, gripping his bicep in your hand and pressing into his side. He leads you towards the track at an even pace, casual and unhurried, and you admittedly find yourself appreciating his gentlemanly behaviour as you hold his elbow and his bicep presses against your breasts.

“Clay told me that you’re helping the man from yesterday. That you don’t normally take photos for Formula One.” Niki comments, and you agree quietly, “You don’t enjoy the sport.”

You laugh, pleasantly surprised by his straightforwardness and unable to help the fondness bubbling in your gut. You don’t try to lie to him to save face. You wish more people would just say what they meant.

“No, I don’t. You risk your lives for very little reward. Frankly, I think it’s unnecessary, and I prefer sports where I don’t have to be terrified that I’m going to watch someone I’ve taken pictures of die in a horrific accident.” You reply honestly, “however, I’ve been taking photos of more extreme sports lately, and while I still think it’s stupid, I have taken some very beautiful pictures. So perhaps it is not all bad.”

Niki is quiet for a moment, and a quick glance tells you he’s thinking about what you said rather than ignoring you. His arm flexes under your hand, and you give him a gentle squeeze, instinctively trying for soothing.

“There is a limit to the risk I accept. But what would life be like if we only did what was necessary?” Niki asks, and you hum thoughtfully, considering that as you walk with him. You examine his face from the side, trusting him implicitly not to lead you astray, and wish you could get your camera out and snap a photo of him from your current angle. It’s a very nice view. From this perspective, you wonder how anyone could ever call him a rat.

“Boring.” You decide, and you see a hint of a smile tug at his lips, a flash of white teeth peeking out. You grin, proud of the reaction you’ve earned yourself, and finally tune into your surroundings only to find yourself approaching the Ferrari garage, “Niki, dear, have you kidnapped me without me even realising?”

The Austrian driver cracks another smile at that, shaking his head as he leads you into the garage, not bothering to answer your teasing. Several mechanics look up at you with a hint of impressed confusion before getting back to their work, and Niki pulls out a chair for you, so you finally release his arm. You put your camera bags on the table to get them out of your way, then sit at the table with a wide smile.

“You’re early for the race. If you would rather wait out with the press and get a sunburn, go ahead.”

“Well, aren’t you thoughtful?” You coo, and he doesn’t answer you, looking hesitant once again. You dig through your bag, pulling out a stiff manila envelope filled with cardboard backing to protect its contents from bending, and hand it to the driver, “One of my favourite photos from yesterday. I hoped you might like it.”

Niki looks at the envelope but doesn’t open it, and you smile at his obvious shyness.

“I’m sure you’ve got to go get changed, right? I’ll wait right here. And I won’t snoop or anything. Your boys will keep me honest, won’t you, boys?” You ask the mechanics, one of whom laughs and mutters something under his breath that you’re sure isn’t appropriate, though it doesn’t sound malicious. You let it be, certain you’ve heard worse, and Niki looks hesitant to leave you alone but eventually begins to back away.

“I won’t be long.” He promises, and you smile pleasantly, waggling your fingers at him. Some of the mechanics keep looking at you, but you keep your pleasant expression, sitting pretty as you wait. You know that teams can be pretty tight-lipped about their secrets, so you keep to yourself to avoid the semblance of being nosy or trying to find a story. You’re not a journalist anyways, you’re a photographer. You don’t really care about their trade secrets.

“Well, well, well, look at who I’ve found.”

You turn in your seat to grin at James Hunt as he enters the Ferrari garage, nodding to the mechanics, then looking around quickly as if searching for his friend and rival.

“Hello James. Niki’s just getting changed.” You inform him, getting up to shake his hand, pleased when he doesn’t try to kiss it again.

“Ahh, he is, is he? Did he give you a ride this morning?” James asks, and you laugh as you sit back down, unable to help yourself despite the very obvious and rude implication. He’s cheeky, but he’s charming enough to get away with it. You’re not offended, anyways - you’d happily spend a night in Lauda’s bed if he invited you.

“No, James, I took a taxi from my hotel. I was far too busy in the darkroom developing my photos last night to be entertaining Mr. Lauda. Not that it’s any of your business, you nosy twat. Anyways, I’m sure you both left the track at around the same time, so you know I didn’t leave with him.” You retort, and Hunt snickers, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

“I know. I was just messing with you. I wanted to see if you’d get angry.” He admits, pulling a chair over and sitting on it backwards, his arms crossed on the back of it, “So, why’re you in the Ferrari garage?”

You grin sheepishly.

“Niki rescued me from my own lack of directional skills.” You reply, and at Hunt’s raised eyebrow, you continue, “I got lost, and he stumbled upon me and took pity.”

An understanding hum escapes Hunt, and he rubs the lower half of his face as he considers your excuse. He murmurs to himself, almost like he’s lost in thought, “Right… he did, did he?”

You raise an eyebrow at the shaggy blond, “Not common for him to help out a lady in need?”

James shakes his head immediately, waving a hand as if to swipe that thought away.

“No, no, Niki’s a good man, and a gentleman with the ladies. It’s just a little peculiar for him to bring someone into the garage with him.”

“He told me I could go wait in the press area and get sunburnt instead.” You remark, and Hunt laughs.

“So, I assume you’re cheering on the rat, then? I won’t hear your lovely voice shouting my name from the stands?” He teases playfully, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m a very professional photographer, thank you very much, sir. I will be taking photos of as many drivers as I can, and I will be very happy for anyone who wins,” You retort, and James raises an eyebrow with a wide grin, sensing there’s more to come, “however, if my camera malfunctions and they happen to look a bit drab in their photos, it certainly won’t be because they beat Niki and I’m a bit of a vindictive bitch.”

You giggle as James gives a loud, brash laugh, pleasantly surprised. You lean forwards a little in your seat, and Hunt looks away from you briefly before grinning brighter. God, he’s like the sun, it’s almost unnerving.

“So, what is it about the rat that’s got your knickers in a twist?” He asks, and you raise an eyebrow at him with a disbelieving snort.

“First, that’s wholly inappropriate talk in the presence of a lady, so go fuck yourself, darling. Second, why is everyone so goddamned surprised? He’s handsome, whether you blind idiots can see it or not. Far less boring to look at than you lot.” You retort, and James touches his heart and gives a pouty hiss as if wounded, “His facial structure is lovely - high, strong cheekbones, a well-defined jawline, wonderful little nose, and yes, an overbite. I find it quite endearing, frankly. He has nice lips, and his eyes are beautiful. I like his curls. And his arm felt sturdy and supportive under mine when he guided me here.”

James listens, a hint of softness in his eyes as you go on about his close friend and rival, though his ulterior motive is exposed when Niki steps fully into the room and sets a bottle of water on the table beside you. You nearly jump out of your skin, and your brows pull together as you connect the dots, then turn a scowl on James. He puts his hands up, then smiles at Niki.

“I just came to check in. Looks like you’re doing fine. I’ll see you on the track.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with the man who most certainly just overheard you complimenting him quite liberally. Normally, you like to think you’ve got quite a strong backbone. You don’t get embarrassed easily. You’re fairly self-confident, and you can stand up for yourself. 

Not today.

“I should go to the press area if I want to get a good spot.” You practically squeak, and Niki raises an eyebrow at you. He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already moving, shouldering your camera bags and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can get a word out.

“I won’t say good luck, since you don’t need it. See you later.” You shout over your shoulder as you practically dart from the garage, your cheeks on fire as you flee. You think you vaguely hear Niki shout something behind you, but you’re already too far to make it out, and you’re too embarrassed to stop or go back. You reach the press area and get set up, talking with a few of the reporters and photographers you know. Taking the cues Tony had given you, you take some pretty fantastic pictures of the race, including one of Niki during a pitstop, Hunt finishing the race in a spectacular second place, and Niki finishing in fourth. You take photos of the winners, deftly avoiding the spray of champagne, and fleeing to the parking lot to consider how you’re going to get home.

Part of you considers waiting for Niki and asking if you can get a ride back to your hotel with him, but the other part of you that’s still a little embarrassed and very unsure about how the Austrian man might react to your fawning holds you back, and you end up calling a taxi. Your plane ride home is a redeye, and you make it from the hotel to the airport just in time to make your flight. You’ve got just under two weeks until you have to go to the Brazil Grand Prix, and you know you’ll be busy, so you don’t stick around in Argentina for any of the afterparties despite being happy enough to live that kind of party life when it’s called for.

Your next two weeks are a whirlwind. You sell even more of your photographs from Formula One than you originally expected, and you reconsider your distaste for the sport even further as the money rolls in. An entire candid series of your photos gets purchased by a popular racing magazine to show the behind the scenes of the Argentina Grand Prix, and you’re proud to see your work highlighted on the glossy pages.

A friend of yours calls on your third day home in an absolute panic, as a model dropped out of his reshoots for a perfume campaign ad that has been bogged down with nothing but problems. He’s way over his original deadline, and desperate to get this done before the publishing date of the ad campaign. You’ve modelled before - you feature heavily in the portfolios of several friends you came up in the industry with - and you have no problem subbing in despite a lack of interest in consistent modelling work. Nudity doesn’t bother you either. You do life modelling at the local art school by your house several times a semester, having become good friends with the director of the school shortly after moving to the area.

Just under two weeks later, you board a flight to Brazil with a copy of the magazine in which your photo is printed in hand, and you can’t help but cringe just a little at the sight of yourself. Thankfully, you don’t advertise your modelling, so most people you know won’t ever see it. You’re draped upside-down over a chaise lounge, oiled legs over the back of the sofa and crossed elegantly, an arm around your breasts as perfume drips onto your bare chest and rolls up your neck. You’re dressed in only pearls and a pair of heels that are hanging from your feet like you might kick them off at any second. Your head is hung over the edge of the seat of the chaise, perfume dripping up the line of your throat, and the bottle features prominently beside you. The only thing that hides your cunt from view is a small strip of silk fabric draped around your hip and between your legs. It’s a beautiful photo. Minimal retouching, stunning composition, and the black and white photo looks far more elegant than it might have in colour. You’re proud enough of it, and you have a folder of some of the rejected shots as further payment for your troubles.

You arrive in Sao Paulo midday on Friday and make contact with the owner of a darkroom, then head off to your hotel. Tony rings you up no more than two hours after you arrive to coax you into getting dinner with him, and he presses about how the rest of the last Grand Prix went, bragging about how many of your photos he’s seen in the last few days. Tony promises to drive you to the track in the morning, and comments that many of the drivers are staying in the same hotel as you both are. He tries to encourage you to get a drink with him, but you insist on heading back to your hotel room to get some decent sleep.

On Saturday, you dress in a peach crochet crop top and high-waisted denim shorts that you have to admit make your ass look fantastic. You’re far from the only person to be dressed for the weather when you arrive - it’s atrociously hot, and Tony insists on bringing a parasol that you can’t help but tease him for. You opt to slather on sunscreen and bring a bottle to reapply later, along with water so you don’t dehydrate. Once again, Tony walks you through the garages as he says hello to drivers, spending extra time with some of his friends while you take countless photos and, admittedly, eye the Ferrari garage. You nearly jump out of your skin when a loud, British voice calls out to you moments before an arm is clapped around your shoulders.

“Hello darling.” Hunt croons, pecking your temple pleasantly, and you smile up at him.

“Hello James.”

“I think you’re more fond of me than you’d like to admit. I saw the photos you took of me winning second. You didn’t make me look drab at all.” The large blond teases, and you shrug.

“Ah, well, I’ll try harder next time.” You retort, and he laughs as he uses his grip on your shoulders to turn you around with him away from Tony. He’s dressed in a pair of jeans, brown sandals, and a thin grey t-shirt, but you don’t imagine that will last long. It’s too hot for it. You’re surprised more of the drivers aren’t shirtless already.

“Now, I need something from you.” James insists almost gravely, and you raise an eyebrow as you peer up at him.

“That’s disconcerting. I promise you nothing.”

“Oh, it’s nothing much, love. Just an autograph.” James insists, pulling a familiar magazine out of his pocket and flipping it open to your photo. You wonder if he expects you to be ashamed, or embarrassed. He’s grinning widely, holding out a marker to you, and you take it blithely. Using your teeth to remove the cap, you sign your photo directly across your barely covered tits, then hand it back to him.

“Enjoy. Try not to make the pages stick together or it’ll lose all its value.” You hum crudely, and James laughs so loud you just know everyone must be looking at you. You snap a photo of him braying like a donkey, and he waves you away, his bright grin showing he isn’t actually upset. He flees with his prize, promising to see you later, and Tony leads you closer and closer to the Ferrari garage while you desperately try not to panic. Clay meets you outside, a friendly grin on his face as he greets you both. He compliments several of your photos, including one of him that he informs you his wife is particularly fond of. You promise to have a proper print made for her and take his information so you can mail it, promising to think about attending one of the afterparties for the Grand Prix. You laugh at the lack of subtlety as Clay pushes you to go into the garage while he chats with Tony, but you obey his silent command, finally feeling capable of looking Niki in the eye. You’re slightly less so when you spot a copy of the dreaded magazine on one of the toolboxes.

Niki looks up at you as you enter the garage, and you’re pleased to see that he looks at least somewhat happy to see you. Sure, he’s blushing a little, but you assume that’s because of the magazine and you’re frankly not upset about him getting a peek at you naked, and perhaps wanting another. You waggle your fingers at him, and he nods in return, stepping closer to you. He’s already in his racing suit, though it’s tugged down to his waist, and you take in the sight of his naked chest shamelessly.

“Nice to see you, Niki.” You greet him, putting your hands into your back pockets and offering him a wide smile.

“I did not know if you would show up to another Grand Prix.” He comments, and you shrug, taking a step closer to him.

“Turns out I like racing more than I thought I would. I ended up getting a contract for the rest of the season, so, I guess you’ll have to get used to seeing me around.”

“There are worse things.” Niki replies with a wry, playful smile, and you laugh, “The photo you gave me. It was decent.”

You can’t help but snort, bumping your fist against his bicep gently, “I’m glad you liked it. I’m sure I’ll get more good ones today. Have you put sunscreen on yet, by the way? The sun is harsh today.”

“I forgot mine at the hotel.” Niki admits, and you grab the strap of your bag, wiggling it, then setting your bags on a nearby table since they’re heavy enough that you don’t feel like lugging them around.

“I brought some. I’ll share, since you were kind enough to show me around.” You offer, and Niki nods as he steps closer to you. You pull out the bottle and offer it to him, but he doesn’t take it, and you look at him for a moment as a hint of a cheeky smile tugs at his lips. You let out a breathy laugh, pleasantly surprised, and you pop the cap to squirt some of the sunscreen into your hand then give it to Niki to hold so you can use both of your hands. Niki offers you his arm, and you take your time rubbing it into his skin until the white cast fades. You’re thorough as you make your way up first one arm, and then the other. He lets out a quiet sigh as you rub the thick cream into his chest, and you offer him a faint smile, a knowing look on your face.

You can feel the slight shift in the air. The way Niki leans into your hands, his gaze fixed on you the entire time. The way your heart has begun to pound in your chest, and you can feel Niki’s heartbeat against your palms. You wet your lips as you rub your hands over his shoulders, then carefully turn him around so you can get his back. You’re gentle but indulgent here, letting him enjoy the massage you’ve turned this into, and he lets out a quiet grunt as you work out a knot in his shoulder blade. Once he’s thoroughly protected, you turn him around again, carefully applying sunscreen to his neck and ears, then up over his chin and jaw. He watches you as you cup his face and gently rub some of the thick cream into his cheeks, sweeping over his nose, and up his temples to his forehead.

His stare is intense as you swipe your thumb across his lips, but you’re quick to return your hands to his chest. You apply a layer of sunscreen to his stomach, then examine him to be sure you’ve got him covered, and he finally lifts a hand to squeeze your waist, gentle as can be. The air shifts again, and your eyes go half-lidded, pupils blown. You swallow, throat dry from the spike of heat running through you, and you finally tear your gaze away from him to look around the garage. The door is open, and you can hear Clay and Tony chatting with the mechanics. You wet your lips, placing your hands on Niki’s chest and running your thumbs over his collarbones.

“Hey, Niki? Where do you get changed?” You ask quietly, but your meaning must be clear, since he cracks another grin that sends flutters through your stomach. He slips his arm around you, hand on your lower back as he leads you further into the garage towards the restricted back area where the drivers have their trailers. Niki opens the door for you, then follows you in, and you pull him closer to you the moment the door closes behind him. He raises an eyebrow when you lock it, seemingly surprised, and he cups your cheek tenderly.

“We don’t have time.” He reminds you, hushed, and maybe a twinge regretful. You smile up at him, guiding him to lean against the wall as your hand slips down his stomach and into his racing suit. A ragged gasp leaves his lips, and he bucks instinctively into your hand the moment it wraps around him, already more than half-hard. You give him a couple of gentle strokes through his underwear, then push his underwear down his thighs so you can free his growing erection and wrap your hand around him.

“We don’t have time for more, no. But I guarantee I can take care of you before anyone misses you too much.” You purr against his ear, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck as you begin to stroke him properly. He arches into it a little, letting out an endearing little hum of contentment that makes you smile as he braces his shoulders against the wall behind him. Niki groans as you release him briefly to spit into your hand, and his arm tightens around you, his grip sliding down from your lower back to grab a handful of your ass. He watches you as you play with him, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly open as he takes little gulps of air, tensing every time you squeeze on your upstroke as you get close to the head. You practically moan as he starts to thrust into your hand, eyes fluttering closed as he leans into it.

“That’s it, honey. Take what you want. M’here just for you.” You whisper against his ear, unable and unwilling to hide the blatant desire in your voice, “I wish we had time. I want to feel you, Niki. I’d be so good to you.”

The Austrian groans, head falling back as his thrusts speed up, fucking into your hand with just a hint of desperation. You can feel him throbbing against you, and you moan softly, dropping your other hand to roll his balls in your palm. A gentle squeeze draws a deeper groan from him, and his hips stutter as he gets closer, so you reluctantly let go of his balls and undo your shorts. He moans softly, sounding almost pained, his pretty blue eyes half-lidded and dark with desire.

“We don’t have time.” He reminds you, voice full of remorse as he squeezes your waist, and you laugh softly as you pull your shorts and underwear down just a little.

“I know, honey, I know. I’m just giving you somewhere to… leave your mark.” You purr, and he groans, pulling you closer to him. He cups your cheek instead of your ass as you stand face to face with him and pull your underwear and shorts out a little, aiming towards your cunt. He lets out a raspy moan of your name as he tips over the edge, hips stuttering as he coats your lower belly, pussy and underwear in cum. Once he’s done, you tuck him back into his racing suit and pull your underwear up to cover the sticky mess he’s made. You wiggle your shorts back up and button them, then pat his chest gently with your clean hand, licking a couple of stray drops of cum from your fingers.

“I won’t say good luck, since you don’t need it.” You murmur, and you’re gone before he can even catch his breath, hooking your arm through Tony’s, “Sorry boys, hate to interrupt, but I’ve got to take Tony here and head over to the press ring.”

Tony follows you, and Clay calls a playful sounding goodbye as he heads into the garage. You spot Hunt making his way in that direction too and snort, almost feeling bad for Niki for the ribbing he’s likely about to get. Until you remember that his cum is dripping down over your cunt, and you won’t be able to get off until the qualifiers are done. Tony asks you about your talk with Niki, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, and you nudge him in the arm with a scoff. He gives you a mildly judgemental look as you duck into a bathroom to wash your hands, but he doesn’t comment, except to remind you that if ever you weren’t happy, you need only tell him and he’d fix it.

Considering Tony’s contacts worldwide, you believe him.

Together, you tuck into the press area, and Tony cheers loudly while you take photos of the drivers getting into their cars. Throughout the qualifiers, you get some fairly good photos, though you pout a little when Jarier gets pole position. With the qualifiers over, Tony pauses to speak with a couple of reporters he knows, and you linger nearby to take photos. You turn to observe the drivers scurrying around their garages, only to freeze as you spot Niki through your viewfinder. He pauses a few steps away from you, hands on his slim hips, and you smile a little at the sight of him all dishevelled from driving. His hair is a little sweaty, curls sticking to his forehead, and you have to bite back a dreamy sigh.

“It has come to my attention that you might want to go to dinner with me.” Niki comments, and you raise an eyebrow at him, biting back a smile.

“Was that a question, honey?” You ask, and Niki’s eyes darken a hint at the nickname you’d only recently whispered in his ear. Unable to help yourself, you let your gaze trail over him, head to toe and then back up, and Niki cracks a smile at your obvious desire.

“Go to dinner with me tonight?” He asks, stepping closer to you, and you shiver as his hand skims over your waist, fitting into the curve like it belongs there.

“Do I have time to go back to my hotel and change? I’m a little sweaty, and I don’t think this outfit is appropriate for dinner.”

“We’re staying at the same hotel. I will come get you when I’m done here. What is your room number?”

You give it to him without hesitation, stepping a little closer to him and watching his gaze trail over you. He leans in closer to you, lips against your ear, and you shiver with delight at the feeling as you grip the front of his racing suit to steady yourself.

“You will not wash me off of you.”

Your thighs clench, and he rubs his thumb into your side gently, almost soothingly as you lean into him a little. You suck your lower lip into your mouth, biting it gently, and Niki pulls it free with his thumb.

“It is shameful that I have not yet kissed you, with what I let you do.” Niki murmurs, and you smile as you reluctantly step away from him, fairly sure that he won’t kiss you here.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances,” You reply, your voice playful and low to avoid being overheard, “especially if you keep letting me do whatever I like with you.”

Niki lets out a soft laugh, and you can’t help but grin at the fondness in his eyes, “I will pick you up soon. Go. Then, we will see who is doing what they like.”

~

Two hours later finds you sitting at a table in a warm, surprisingly romantic restaurant, running your foot up the inner side of Niki’s calf while you tell him about some of the work you’ve done. You’re dressed in an a-line dress of layered muted pastel gossamers with a plunging neckline that Niki seems to appreciate considering the ample attention he’s paid to your assets while you ate. He’s told you a bit about his racing career, giving you the typical highlight reel and only opening up a bit more when you ask him about himself rather than his driving. He seems more interested in talking about you, which you can understand. You know he gets asked a million annoying questions about himself in every interview, and then often gets dogged on for giving short, straight-forward, or blunt answers. You tell him about the art school near your home, and the life modelling you’ve done, which he seems curious about but not jealous in the way you’ve had previous men in your life be.

You tell him stories about some of the highs and lows - a student who drew you so beautifully that you felt on a high for the next week, another who kept making your chest bigger than it was, and a third who was kicked out of the class because they kept asking if the class could do in depth anatomy drawing classes since you were naked anyways. You tell him about the modelling you’ve done, largely for your friends who were aiming at going into fashion photography and needed to build out their portfolios. Niki admits that Clay showed him the magazine with your perfume ad in it that morning, and you smile as you sip your wine, offering him a playful wink when he inquires if you’ve done any more nude modelling.

You skim your hand across the table clearly made for dates considering how close you two are, tracing your fingertips across his, and blush as he takes your hand and holds it gentler than any boyfriend you’ve ever had despite you not being his. Contrary to the statement made by the cum still marking your cunt. With his free hand, Niki eats the last bite on his plate, and you feel excited butterflies in your stomach at the thought of perhaps going home with him soon.

“Do you want to get dessert?” He asks you, and you smile, finishing your glass of wine. You slip your hand free of his, and Niki watches as you fidget for a moment before getting up. You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, leaving a hint of a wine mark behind as you slip something into his pocket. He lets you, curious and intrigued by your bold nature, and far more focused on the pretty curve of your hip beside him.

“I’ll meet you outside. Don’t make me wait.” You whisper in his ear, then squeeze his shoulder and head out of the restaurant, past the waiter who seems to be returning to your table to see if Niki wants the bill. You step outside, your clutch in hand and your white heels clicking on the pavement as you enjoy the warm air outside. You hope you weren’t too bold, but when you peek in through the window, you spot Niki staring at the lacey fabric of your underwear pulled only slightly out of his pocket. He seems to have realised what it is, and he meets your eyes through the glass, bringing a coquettish smile on your lips. You wink, and his jaw clenches visibly. He tucks the fabric away just in time for the waiter to arrive with the bill, and Niki pays it so quickly you think he must’ve just let the waiter keep the change, for soon enough he’s walking out the front door towards you.

A strong hand closes around the curve of your hip, and you lean into him, gasping as he jerks you ever closer. He leads you towards the street, hailing a taxi with a simple wave of his hand while he whispers harshly in your ear, “You tempt fate, playing with me like this.”

“Do I? It certainly seems like you’re enjoying it.” You purr, giving him a pointed once-over. He opens the taxi door for you and helps you in, then sits beside you, his hand skimming over your thigh once you’re both settled. He gives the driver the hotel name, then leans into your ear again to avoid the man hearing him.

“I already want you. You do not need to keep seducing me.” He murmurs, and you laugh quietly as you cover his hand and slip it further up under the slit in your dress.

“Is that what you think I’m doing, Niki? Trying to catch your interest and keep it?” You ask, and he squeezes your soft thigh, his eyes dark with desire, “I know you want me, honey. I don’t think you quite know how much I want you, but you’ll learn.”

Niki’s breathing gets a little harsh, and you pet his arm soothingly, doing your best not to make a scene as he rubs his thumb into the meat of your leg.

“The seduction doesn’t stop when I catch your interest,” You inform him, your voice hushed and low, “nor does it stop when you fuck me. It does not stop when you go back to race tomorrow, or when we don’t see each other for a month until the next Grand Prix, or even if you make me yours. It does not stop when we are too tired, or when we are upset. It will continue until we no longer want each other.”

Niki lets out a quiet breath, and you perk up as the taxi pulls up in front of your hotel. The Austrian driver pays for the taxi, slipping out of the car and then helping you out as well. He steadies you, his arm around your waist again as he leads you into the large hotel, heading towards the elevator in thoughtful silence. You don’t question it when he pushes the button for his floor instead of yours. In the quiet of the elevator, he pulls you closer to him, cupping your face in his hand to gently tilt your head back. He presses his lips to yours, gently at first, then a little more hungrily when you moan into his mouth. Your arms slip lazily around his neck, and he sighs into the kiss when one hand tangles into his curls, your manicured nails scraping against his scalp.

You break the kiss as you near his floor, letting him lead you towards his room, his pace just a little bit more hurried than it was before. The door clicks open, and Niki guides you through it, kicking it closed behind him while he pulls you into another kiss. Now, in the comfort of his hotel room without anyone around to see, you smoothly undo the buttons on his shirt while he sucks at your lower lip, then breaks away to nip your top lip. You pant together, both struck breathless as you finally get his shirt open and shove it down over his shoulders.

“You’re in such a rush, mouse.” Niki murmurs as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress and pulls it all the way down to your hip. You frown at him to show your displeasure at his teasing, but it doesn’t knock the grin from his face as he lets you yank his undershirt over his head. He puts a hand over your ribs, thumb tracing the soft line under your breast while you unbutton his jeans, and you sigh into his mouth as he kisses you like he wants to devour you. You’ve just got his jeans undone when he finally pulls the sleeves of your dress down your arms, and you gasp as he guides you to step back out of it, his hands already slipping back to undo your bra. He pushes you back onto the bed once it’s discarded, and you pull your legs up, scooting back a little on the mattress. He catches your ankle before you can get out of his reach, and you feel your cheeks get hot as he parts your legs to admire what remains of the mess he made of you that morning.

“I liked this.” Niki informs you as he rubs his thumb over the messy seam of your cunt, and you shiver with excitement as he pulls you open a little so he can see how far down his cum dripped.

“So did I.” You admit, and his gaze flicks up to you before he pushes his jeans and underwear down over his hips. Your eyes go half-lidded with desire at the sight of his pretty cock, and you welcome him with open arms as he crawls onto the bed on top of you. He trails kisses up your body as he goes, pausing to suck your nipples into his mouth, first one, and then the other. You grasp at his hair, a happy sigh escaping you, though it turns into a ragged moan as Niki slips first one, and then a second finger into you. He crooks them, and you gasp as he strokes across that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl while his thumb presses into your clit.

“Fuck, Niki.” You moan, and he smiles against your skin, trailing kisses across your heaving chest while he pumps his fingers into you. His lips meet yours for another kiss, and you roll your hips to meet him, fucking yourself on his hand while he bites your bottom lip. He scissors his fingers, then adds a third, stretching you out and making you dig your nails into his back. He groans, biting the top of your tit and pulling his fingers free of you to give his cock a couple of firm strokes. You sit up on your elbows as he opens the drawer on his night table and pulls out a foil packet. Niki starts to climb onto the bed, but you lean up to meet him, pushing him to sit up at the head of the bed.

“You are very… bold.” Niki murmurs as you crawl up over his legs to straddle his thighs, “you wish to be on top? To take what you want?”

You hum your agreement, ripping open the condom packet and rolling it onto him while he smooths his hands up over your thighs. Thankfully, he seems agreeable, even if he’s mildly surprised.

“And what is it you want, mouse?” He asks, supporting you as you put one hand on his shoulder and reach behind you with the other, positioning him against you. He lets out a quiet moan, stroking your thighs, then skimming his hands up to grip your hips.

“You, Niki.” You moan as you seat yourself on his cock, sinking down until he’s balls deep inside of you. You drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair while the other hand grasps at his shoulder blades, and you press your chest firmly to his. He kisses you hard, grasping your hips and guiding you to start to ride him as he moans into your mouth, not so much kissing as you’re sharing breath. He’s long, filling you completely, and thick enough that it’s a little bit of a stretch to take him. The slight curve of his cock strokes against a spot inside you with every thrust that makes you whimper and grip him a little tighter, desperate for more. You break the whisper of a kiss and let your head fall back as you ride him hard, setting an eager pace that makes your thighs ache. Niki skims his hands up to cup your tits, closing his lips around your nipple and scraping his teeth across it in a way that makes you whine for more before he switches to the other one.

You gasp as Niki reaches between you to strum your clit, and he groans lowly as you tug on his hair. You begin to move faster, and Niki leans back a little bit to watch you, admiring the way your tits bounce with every thrust. He looks beautiful like this, one hand clutching your side and helping you move, lips parted around a moan, glistening with just a little bit of sweat. You wonder how anyone could ever call him a rat. How anyone could be so blind as to miss how gorgeous he is. And yet you’re happy they did miss it, because now he’s here, under you, letting you take your pleasure from him. Your thighs are burning, and you’re fairly sure you’re going to be sore later, but you’re also rattling towards a stellar orgasm and you couldn’t be happier. With Niki fucking Lauda.

“That’s it, mausi, take it. Take what you need from me.” Niki groans, circling your clit and panting for breath as he does his best to hold on until you come. You moan for him desperately, and he plants his feet to thrust up into you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Thank God for Niki. He notices you about to scream as you come for him and guides your mouth to his neck, which you bite down on instinctively, clinging to him as if he’ll give you mercy. A guttural groan rumbles against you as Niki quickly finds his own peak only a couple of thrusts later, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure you’ll be bruised afterwards. 

Niki carefully guides you down onto the mattress, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as he slips into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He returns to you shortly after, crawling onto the bed over you and burying his face in your chest. You pet his hair gently, letting out a sleepy laugh as he nuzzles against your breasts, humming with contentment that makes your heart swell in your chest. You rub his shoulders, and he lets out a happy, muffled moan against your skin as he slips his hands under your back to hold you.

“Sorry for biting you.” You murmur, and Niki chuckles against your chest, scraping his teeth over the curve of your breast.

“You haven’t hurt me, mouse.” He replies, “Relax. Perhaps, if you are good, I’ll fuck you again before we sleep.”

~

In fact, he fucks you twice more that night. Once on your hands and knees, face pressed into the mattress as Niki rails you like he’s trying to exorcise his demons through your cunt. Then, in the shower you take together afterwards, back pressed into the cold tiles with Niki’s forehead nuzzled against yours, more intimate than you ever thought you’d get from what you presumed would be a one night stand or a race fling. While you use another condom the second time, Niki simply pulls out after making you lose your mind on his cock in the shower, spreading your cunt open so he can cover you in his cum.

He reluctantly lets you wash it off after, and you sleepily promise that he can come on you in the morning, crawling under the sheets with him. In the morning, he takes you up on your offer, lazily fucking you from behind with your leg pulled back over his hip as he strokes your clit. This time, you reach back to stop him from pulling out, telling him you’re on birth control while he presses kisses into your shoulder. He groans against your skin, and you find yourself gasping for air as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. Heat floods you, and you moan helplessly as Niki fucks his cum deeper into you, redoubling his efforts to make you come before he gets oversensitive.

The mattress shifts behind you as Niki gets up, leaning over you to press a kiss to your temple, then heading into the bathroom to clean up. You roll out of bed, and Niki returns to find you wrapped in a bedsheet and staring out the window, and you lean into him when he steps up behind you and puts his arms around your waist. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, and you sigh dreamily.

“You can borrow something.” Niki murmurs against your skin, and you tilt your head to kiss him, enjoying what you know might be the last few moments of afterglow before he’s done with you. Niki breaks it reluctantly, stepping away to rummage through his luggage and find a shirt and boxer briefs for you. You get changed, finger-combing your hair to neaten it, then helping Niki button his shirt while you steal a couple of kisses before you leave.

“I’ll see you at the track.” You murmur against his lips, and he hums, giving your bottom a firm squeeze.

“Come to the garage. You can watch the race from there.” Niki replies, and you can’t help but smile.

“That’s bold. People will ask questions if you have a photographer waiting in the garage for you.” You remind him, and Niki looks at you blankly.

“They can ask all they like. My woman will cheer for me from my garage, not wait in the sun in the stands like everyone else.” Niki retorts, and you feel your stomach flip, heart beating nearly out of your chest.

“Your woman?” You clarify, and Niki pulls you closer to him, kissing you hard enough that your teeth clack together clumsily. It does nothing to take away from your eagerness, and you clench your fingers in his shirt, knees going just a little weak. You’ll never admit it, though.

“You think I am so careless to come in any woman? I have condoms for a reason, mouse.” Niki reminds you, and you gasp against his mouth, eyes rolling back as your cunt throbs, “unless, you do not want to be mine.”

“Don’t be stupid, Niki Lauda. You know what I want.”

~

After the Brazil Grand Prix, you spend the early evening bent over the edge of Niki’s bed, or grasping the headboard for dear life as he fucks out the adrenaline high of racing into your sweet body. You’re booked for another late flight home, and Niki barely lets you go in time to make it to the airport, even though he’s got his own early flight in the morning. You head home with promises to visit Niki in Vienna once you’ve settled your work commitments and sent off your photos to their respective buyers. You talk to each other at least every other evening, though you both have a lot going on. One evening, you even drag your phone into the bathroom so that you can talk to Niki while you’re in the bathtub, and he expresses regret that he can’t share it with you. It takes far too long, in your opinion, to get your business settled. But finally, nearly two weeks later, you call Niki earlier in the day than you usually do.

“I’m ready. So, if you still want me, I can be in Vienna as early as tomorrow.” You inform him instead of saying hello, and Niki’s breathy sigh crackles over the landline.

“Tell me where to pick you up, and when. I will be there.” Niki replies, and you giggle, excitement bubbling in your belly.

“So it’s a good thing that I booked a plane ticket arriving tomorrow without asking?”

“Bold, as always, mouse. What time am I picking you up?” Thankfully, Niki sounds amused rather than annoyed.

“I arrive at Vienna Airport at eleven am tomorrow. My flight leaves at 7:30 tonight. So, I’ll be getting on the plane while you’re fast asleep at 2:30 am.” You inform him, “At 11 am, it will be 4 am for me, so I’m taking a nap on the plane so I can try and beat jet lag.”

“We will have a lazy day.” Niki promises, and you sigh happily at the idea, folding a pair of jeans to tuck into your suitcase.

“Should I bring anything in particular?”

“I will take you out to dinner - something suitable for that. It is mild this time of year. Similar to your weather, I believe.” Niki comments, and you laugh as you pack a knit sweater.

“So, no requests for lingerie? Short skirts? Plunging necklines?” You inquire, and Niki gives a thoughtful hum, as if he hadn’t even thought of requesting anything.

“I trust your taste, mouse. Bring what you think I will like, and I will do my best to show you my appreciation.”

“Yessir.”

~

After an eight hour and fifteen minute flight that you entirely slept through, you pick up your luggage after going through customs, and spot Niki waiting for you from a distance. There is no dramatic reunion. You don’t run across the airport into his waiting arms to kiss his face off like in a movie. Instead, you walk calmly over to him, and he takes the handle of your luggage, putting his arm around you and greeting you with a gentle kiss to your cheek and a query as to how your flight was.

He opens the door to his car for you, helping you in, then putting your luggage in the trunk. You squeeze his thigh when he gets into the car, and you notice him smiling as he drives away from the busy airport towards his home. You stroke his thigh as he drives, and you can’t pretend you don’t notice the stirring in his trousers. It does nothing to stop you, of course. You have plenty of plans for your Niki. As you get to a less busy area of town, you hum thoughtfully to yourself, then pull your hair back out of your face. Niki glances at you curiously as you reach over towards him, unzipping his trousers.

“Woah- mouse, what are you doing?”

“Whatever I like.” You retort, pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxer briefs and swirling your tongue around the leaky tip.

“Mouse…” Niki groans softly, wrapping your hair around his hand and pulling gently as if to stop you.

“If you can’t focus, pull over.” You hum, slapping his cock against your tongue a couple of times, then taking him into your mouth. Niki grumbles to himself above your head, letting out a low, growly groan. You hear the gentle tick of the turn signal, and then the bumps and rumble of the car pulling off the road. As soon as the car turns off, Niki’s hands tangle in your hair, and you moan around his cock as he pulls.

“Fuck, mausi. You could not wait?” Niki asks, and you hum an affirmative, bobbing your head at a leisurely pace, “No, of course not. You were too desperate for my cock, weren’t you?”

You slip your hand into his underwear to roll his balls in your palm, and he groans, bucking up into your mouth then apologising hoarsely as he pets your hair back from your face. You moan around him encouragingly, then decide that Niki deserves your somewhat unique talent. He’s been good to you. Blown your mind enough times despite your limited time together. You let him slip from your mouth, swallowing the precum and saliva pooling in your mouth, then taking a couple of deep breaths.

“Feel free to thrust, if you like. I can take it, honey.” You purr, and before Niki can ask for clarification, you take him back into your mouth, sinking down until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. Niki groans, guttural and low, his head thumping back against the headrest hard. Rumbling german interspersed with the occasional english swear word falls from Niki’s lips as you swallow him down, wiping every thought from his mind until his gentlemanly ways fall lax and he begins to fuck into your mouth eagerly. You moan helplessly as he chases his release, gripping your hair tightly as he finally falls over the edge.

“Don’t swallow yet. Let me see.” He pants, and you obediently do your best not to swallow or let any of his cum leak from your overstuffed mouth. Breathing through your nose, you sit up in your seat and situate yourself, then open your mouth to show off the mess he’s made of you. Niki moans softly, tapping your chin.

“Swallow.”

You obediently do, and he leans across the short distance to kiss you, licking into your mouth to taste himself off your tongue.

“When we get to my home, I will show you around. You will put down your things, and then I am going to ruin you for any other man.” Niki whispers against your lips, and you moan softly, letting out a little whimper when he leans back into his seat to put himself away and then resume the drive home.

And ruin you he does. As promised, Niki takes you on a tour of the home, his hand tucked into your back pocket. You put your luggage in his room, and then he takes you into the bathroom to take a bath, though you’re sure you nearly cause a flood with how much water flows over the edge when he fucks you. Afterwards, nice and clean, he takes you down to his living room and you try to watch a film together, but Niki ends up not seeing much of it as he kneels in front of his couch between your legs and makes you see stars on his mouth.

You have a light lunch, then curl up together for a nap, your head pillowed on Niki’s chest with you curled around him. You wake to Niki laying you back on the couch beneath him, covering your neck and chest in kisses as he flips up your skirt and pulls down your tights.

“Is this okay?” He asks, and you moan softly as he sucks your nipple into his mouth.

“Niki, you can fuck me whenever you like. Even if I’m sleeping, you don’t have to wake me up. If I’m not into it, I will tell you, but I promise you I’ll almost always be into it.” You murmur, and Niki groans as he yanks your underwear down and positions himself. He slips inside easily, still all pliant and wet from before your nap, and you relax beneath him and let him take what he needs. You’re still half-asleep, so you don’t participate nearly as much as you usually do, but Niki seems to like the sleepy moans and whimpers he’s able to pull from you, and the way you hold onto him as if he’s the only thing keeping you together.

The rest of your visit in Vienna goes similarly. Lazy morning sex seems to be a necessity for both of you. Breakfast is always a quiet but gentle affair, curled up together while you eat. Niki takes you to art galleries, museums, and historical sites. Some days, he takes you on walks. Some days, you don’t leave the house much at all, and you begin to realise how easy things are together. You take enough pictures of your boyfriend to open a Niki Lauda gallery, and he lets you drag him to a darkroom to develop many of them, which results in Niki fucking you in the low lit room with his hand over your mouth to stop anyone from hearing you.

You fly to South Africa together, and you only spend one night in your own hotel room before Niki drags you back to his own, complaining about poor sleep. Once again, Niki is disappointed with the results of the race, and he follows you back home instead of going to Vienna to enjoy the nearly two-month break before the Spanish Grand Prix. You end up in Ibiza for a good month of that break, lazing in the sun, swimming, or giving each other couples massages. You end up being the better masseuse of the two of you, and Niki lets you work out his stress until he melts underneath you, his pretty blue eyes half-lidded and happy.

It’s bliss, honestly. By the time Spain rolls around, you’ve dropped all pretence. Everyone knows you’re together - Tony, Hunt and Clay are all beyond thrilled. Hunt asks you far too many questions about your sex life, and you answer none of them, except to inform him that you are thoroughly satisfied. Tony warns Niki that no one will find his body if he hurts you, and Niki doesn’t seem bothered by the threat, confident that it won’t be necessary. Clay simply seems pleased that Niki is perhaps more at ease, and that you’re happy together.

Spain ends up being a nightmare. The race is cancelled part way through due to dangerous conditions and crashes, and Niki needs the break to work with his team. You end up spending the break working as well, away from Niki, and while it is difficult, you make quite a bit of money. Your work is hot at the moment, and plenty of people are happy to pay for your photographs of other sporting events.

Monaco changes things. Niki wins. And he keeps his momentum, winning three Grand Prixs in a row, placing second in another, then first again in France. Great Britain is a mess all around, but Niki recovers with a third place in West Germany. Austria is another mess on par with Spain with the race ending early and only half points awarded. In Italy, Niki secures his championship with a third place, but he goes on to win first in the United States anyways as if to prove he earned it with his fifth first place of the season.

He proposes after the season is over, and you marry at the courthouse in Vienna. He goes home with you to pack your things after you manage to secure a visa due to your marriage, and you move your belongings across the ocean without a single thought of looking back. Niki only breaks the news to the press when he is caught wearing his wedding ring at a post-championship interview, and he’s not thrilled to have most of his interview questions diverted to his recent wedding, but he answers what he’s willing to. Which isn’t very much, frankly.

~

“Does that feel good?” You whisper as you stroke your hands up over your husband’s arms to squeeze his triceps almost reverently. Niki’s eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes, quiet moans falling from his pretty pink lips. You watch with a smile as his muscles flex against the soft silk tying his wrists to the headboard, and you can’t help but sigh adoringly as he catches his lower lip between his teeth, emphasising his overbite in such a pretty way that you want to take a picture of him. Not that he’d ever let you. 

Not that you’d ever want anyone else to see him like this. You’ve very possessive of Niki’s submissive side.

“Mausi.” Niki murmurs warningly, and you give him a sharp look, eyebrow raised as if you can’t believe him. You can. Niki is terrible at being patient in bed, and while he enjoys submitting to you, he does not enjoy it when you tease him. Or rather, he does, but he likes to pretend he doesn’t. Male pride, you assume.

“What is it, sweetheart?” You ask, pouting at him mockingly as you run your hands down over his chest, thumbs swiping across his sensitive nipples. He jerks beneath you, letting out a raspy moan that has you cooing sympathetically, “Ohh, are you sensitive, baby?”

Niki presses his head back into the pillows, moaning breathlessly as you pinch his nipples between your index fingers and thumbs, sitting your bare ass back against his hard cock as you tweak them. A gentle pull has Niki bucking up against you, digging his heels into the bed to try and get some leverage so he can thrust up against you. It’s difficult with his ankles bound to the footboard, but he tries regardless, desperate for more contact. You pull again a little more sharply, and Niki lets out the softest whimper, an angelic look of submission on his face as he pushes his chest up into your hands rather than pulls away.

This is when you give him mercy. You lean down, cupping his pecs from below and pushing them up while you bring his right nipple into your mouth and suck harshly. Niki groans, and you flick your tongue over him a couple of times, then bite gently when his nipple gets hard. You’ve missed him so much while he was gone, nearly a week without him feeling like too much even though it isn’t the first time. You lovingly kiss your way across his chest to his other nipple and repeat the process, but this time, you adjust your hips so you’re pinning his cock between your wet cunt and his stomach. You start to roll your hips, grinding on his cock in a mimicry of the pussyjobs he’s used your cunt for in the past. He’s especially fond of them when you’re half-asleep and pliant, in the early hours of the morning with the sun's first light kissing your skin through the partially open curtains. He says you look like a painting like that, only you’re his, so he can touch the artwork all he likes.

Niki blinks up at you with hazy eyes, lips parted and panting for breath as you toy with him. His pretty blue eyes are full of love and lust, your personal favourite look on him, and you smile as he arches again, pulling on the silk binding him to the bed desperately. You smile, tangling your fingers in his hair and gently pulling his head up, forcing him to look down his own body so he can see the leaky pink head of his cock peeking out from beneath your cunt. There’s a little puddle of his precum on his belly, and he flushes as he realises how much he’s dripping.

“Do you want more, baby? Do you want your mausi to sit on your pretty cock and make you feel good?” You ask, and Niki nods as much as he can with you still holding his head up, “Do you want to fill your mausi with cum? Wanna get her pregnant?”

Niki moans eagerly, nodding again, and you grin as you release his hair and let his head fall back to the pillows. You lean down, lips pressing against his ear while you stroke his cheek lovingly, “I’ve been off my birth control since you left for testing. It’s been almost a full week, so it’s well out of my system.”

That gets a reaction out of him.

“Put my cock in your perfect little cunt, mausi. Let me stuff you full of my cum and I promise I’ll get you pregnant with my child.” Niki moans, and you practically purr with delight, scooping up his precum with your fingers and rubbing it over his cock until he’s slick and glistening. You lift your hips and rub the head of his cock through the wetness dripping from you, then notch the head against your hole. You sink down until he’s buried inside of you and you can feel his balls clenching.

“You promise, honey?”

“I swear.” Niki replies instantly, breathless, and you can feel him twitching against you, desperate to roll you over and fuck you into the sheets. He watches with wide eyes as you arch back to grab the little emergency release ties you’d learned to do since you started tying each other up, freeing his ankles from their bonds with one tug. Niki immediately plants his feet in the mattress and starts to buck up into you, and you gasp, falling forwards into his chest while he fucks up into you.

You reach up towards his wrists, tugging the release ties, and Niki surges up before you even have a chance to sit back on him. He rolls you over onto your back, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing them up, folding you in half. He plants his hands into the mattress with your knees hooked over his elbows, and you stare up at him with wide eyes as he slowly pulls out, then slams back into you. He sets a somewhat eager pace, faster than he usually takes you, and you find yourself gasping for breath as you grasp at the sheets beneath you.

“Niki!” You cry, and he groans, leaning down to kiss you surprisingly softly considering how roughly he’s pounding into you. It’s a pretty stark contrast to the sex you’ve had over the past many months, and more reminiscent of the desperate and lust-charged fucking of your early days together.

“I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you, mausi. My perfect little wife.”

You can’t form words, but there are tears in your eyes as you try to catch your breath. He kisses them away, dropping his hand between you to stroke your clit, and pressing his forehead to yours.

“Nod if you’re okay, mausi.”

You nod firmly, and he nuzzles his nose against yours, then kisses you again, moaning into your mouth as he gets closer. You finally find your words as you’re about to come, crying against his lips, “I love you too, Niki!”

It’s the last conscious thought you have for the next few minutes. You come back to yourself as Niki is rolling you both over, laying back on the mattress with you on top of him, your face tucked into the curve of his neck. You can feel the warmth of his cum buried inside of you, deep enough that it’s not yet leaking back out. Your husband pets your hair gently, adjusting you just a little so he’s no longer buried inside of you to avoid either of you getting oversensitive and achey. You hum sleepily, and Niki presses a kiss to your temple, his chest rising and lowering rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. You pull the blankets up over the both of you, and Niki strokes your back as you both settle in to go to sleep, too tired to move.

And six weeks later, you find yourself sitting in your doctor’s office with your very proud husband as your doctor tells you that you are, in fact, pregnant. Niki swears he got it done with that first stellar fuck after returning from his testing with Ferrari, but you couldn’t care less, pleased as punch to find yourself pregnant so quickly. Soon, you’ll have a baby Lauda in your arms.

Who would have ever thought that you’d meet your future husband when you went to do a favour for your best friend? Who knew you’d meet your future baby daddy at one of your least favourite sports?

Niki still got blushy when you told him you knew he was yours the moment you set eyes on him, even now, months into your marriage. It was true, though. You knew the moment you saw him - the moment he inspired you, and captured your creative eye. He was your rat, and you were his mouse, and you had the rings to prove it.

[themilkshanghai]

Mia and Marta's Profile

" When human Mia meets witch Marta, The story of them is began… "

Mia Wynn

Identity Name : Mia Wynn Date of Birth : August 8, 1997 Gender : Female Blood Type : O Blood Status : Muggle-Born Myer Briggs Personality Type : ISTP Ethnicity : American-Thai Nationality : American

Appearance Height : 175 cm Weight : 56 kg Hair : Dark gray, Shoulder length Eyes : Light green Skin : Tan, Scar on the waist

At Hogwarts Hogwarts House : Ravenclaw Wand : Hazel wood, Dragon heartstrings, 12 inches, Flexibility Quidditch : Beater Animagus : Gray Fox Patronus : Whale Boggart : Parents's body Riddikulus : Paper doll Flower : Red Poppy

Misc

Food/Dessert/Beverage : Candy, Chocolate cake, Omelet, Ramen, Donut, Ice cream, Black tea, Hot & Iced cocoa

Hobby : Sports, Singing & Playing music, Photography, Gaming, Traveling

Color : Gray, Black, White, Dark blue, Green, Red, Purple-Violet

Subject : Charms, Transfiguration, DADA, Flying, Astronomy

Mia is Muggle-Born who has talented and live an ordinary life. But when she was 7 years old, there was a fire at her house (America), her parents died in the fire and she was admitted to the hospital for several months. Mia's aunt heard the news and then took her to move to England for new life.

After months later something happened to Mia. The mysterious voices, sounds, Magic?! She felt shocked-excited and interesting that made wanted to learning about Magic.

Marta Waltsher

Identity Name : Marta Waltsher Date of Birth : January 10, 1997 Gender : Female Blood Type : A Blood Status : Half-Blood Myer Briggs Personality Type : INTP Ethnicity : English-Thai Nationality : English

Appearance Height : 170 cm Weight : 50 kg Hair : Black, Long-Straight Eyes : White Skin : Light

At Hogwarts Hogwarts House : Slytherin Wand : Cedar wood, Dragon heartstrings, 10 inches, Pliable Quidditch : Keeper Animagus : White Swan Patronus : Raven Boggart : Thorny Vines Riddikulus : Flower Vines Flower : Poison Hemlock

Misc

Food/Dessert/Beverage : Herbal tea, Cookie, Salad, Vegetable soup, Beef Stew, Hot chocolate, Honey toast

Hobby : Cooking-Baking, Reading, Gardening, Dancing & Playing music

Color : White, Green, Black, Blue, Silver, Pastel

Subject : Charms, Potions, Herbology, Flying, Ancient Runes

Marta is Half-Blood witch who comes from a wealthy and strict rules family. Her mother disappeared after she was born for some reason, she heard that her father's relatives thinks she lured him with black magic to married.

Now she lives with her father and nursemaid (Younger sister of her mother) in mansion near the cemetery in the valley. Her father taught her about magic until able to use magic without a wand.

[lunastryinc]

Hello angels! This month is not only the Harvest Moon, but it's a Super Moon as well, so what better time to get everyone together for another Full Moon Celebration? Since we've been long overdue for another casual hangout, we're going to do something a little special this time around. Starting Monday, September 16th, we will be hosting a magical vendor's market right in Los Angeles. All of you lovelies who are more magically inclined are welcome to sign up and set up a booth where you can sell your goods- potions, charms, enchantments, whatever your specialty is, we want to see it. Not magically inclined? No worries! There's plenty of room for you to set up your own space, whether that's for an impromptu tattoo stand or a fun little photography booth. Tuesday, September 17th is the full moon and we encourage everyone, lyncanthropes or otherwise, to join us for another feast and bonfire located in Joshua Tree National Park. Don't worry, smore supplies and extra sticks for the wolves will be provided. On Wednesday, September 18th, recover from the celebration the night before with brunch over at Perch LA before we send everyone back on home. Eat up, the bill's on us. Travel and lodging accommodations will be handled by your nearest Lunastry Inc office, if required. We hope to see all of your lovely faces there!

{ People have asked for another casual full moon event, so here we are! This event is entirely optional and a chance for everyone's characters to be in the same place for a change. If your character will be participating, please just be sure to like this post so we'll have an idea of who's there.

As always, if you have any questions, you can send us an ask, slide into our dms, or message us directly on chats @ lunaincmods x }

[ancientfabricspreservation]

Jan Bartek - AncientPages.com - New scientific research has revealed a piece of tartan found in a peat bog in Glen Affric around forty years ago can be dated to circa 1500-1600 AD, making it the oldest known surviving specimen of true tartan in Scotland.

The Scottish Tartans Authority commissioned Dye Analysis and Radiocarbon testing on the woolen textile to prove its age.

Scotland's Oldest Tartan On Display For The First Time!

Glen Affric tartan - Scotland's oldest-known true tartan discovered by The Scottish Tartans Authority to go on display for the first time at V&A Dundee's Tartan exhibition.

Credit: Alan Richardson Pix-AR

The first investigation was dye analysis carried out by analytical scientists from National Museums Scotland. Using high-resolution digital microscopy, four colors were visually identified for dye analysis: green, brown, and possibly red and yellow.

The dye analysis confirmed the use of indigo/woad in the green but was inconclusive for the other colors, probably due to the dyestuff degradation state. However, no artificial or semi-synthetic dyestuffs were involved in making the tartan, which pointed to a date of pre-1750s.

Further clarification on the age of the tartan involved radiocarbon testing at the SUERC Radiocarbon Laboratory in East Kilbride. The process involved washing out all the peat staining, which would have otherwise contaminated the carbon content of the textile.

The Radiocarbon testing results identified a broad date range between 1500 and 1655 AD, with the period between 1500 and 1600 AD the most probable. This makes it the oldest-known piece of true tartan found in Scotland – the Falkirk ‘tartan,’ dating from the early third century AD, is actually a simpler check pattern woven using undyed yarns.

The Glen Affric tartan, which measures around 55cm by 43cm, is now on display for the first time at V&A Dundee’s Tartan exhibition.

by TaboolaSponsored Links

The piece will be the oldest exhibit among more than 300 objects. The exhibition examines tartan’s universal and enduring appeal through iconic and everyday examples of fashion, architecture, graphic and product design, photography, furniture, glass and ceramics, film, performance, and art.

“The testing process has taken nearly six months, but the effort was well worth it, and we are thrilled with the results!

In Scotland, surviving examples of old textiles are rare as the soil is not conducive to their survival. As the piece was buried in peat, meaning it had no exposure to air and was therefore preserved.

The tartan has several colors with multiple stripes of different sizes, and so it corresponds to what people would think of as a true tartan.

“Although we can theorize about the Glen Affric tartan, it’s important that we don’t construct history around it. Although Clan Chisholm controlled that area, we cannot attribute the tartan to them as we don’t know who owned it.

“The potential presence of red, a color that Gaels considered a status symbol, is interesting because of the more rustic nature of the cloth. This piece is not something you would associate with a king or someone of high status; it is more likely to be an outdoor working garment," Peter MacDonald, Head of Research and Collections at The Scottish Tartans Authorit said.

Scotland's Oldest Tartan On Display For The First Time!

New scientific research has revealed a piece of tartan found in a peat bog in Glen Affric, Scotland around forty years ago can be dated to circa 1500-1600 AD, making it the oldest known surviving specimen of true tartan in Scotland. Credit: Credit: Alan Richardson Pix-AR

“The Glen Affric tartan is clearly a piece of national and historical significance. It is likely to date to the reign of James V, Mary Queen of Scots, or James VI/I. “There is no other known surviving piece of tartan from this period of this age. It's a remarkable discovery and deserves national attention and preservation. “It also deserves to be seen and we’re delighted that it is to be included in the Tartan exhibition at V&A Dundee,” John McLeish, Chair of The Scottish Tartans Authority, said.

“We knew The Scottish Tartans Authority had a tremendous archive of material and we initially approached them to ask if they knew of any examples of 'proto-tartans' that could be loaned to the exhibition.

I'm delighted the exhibition has encouraged further exploration into this plaid portion and very thankful for The Scottish Tartans Authority's backing and support in uncovering such a historic find.

To be able to exhibit the Glen Affric tartan is immensely important in understanding the textile traditions from which modern tartan derives, and I'm sure visitors will appreciate seeing this on public display for the very first time," James Wylie, curator at V&A Dundee said.

Tartan at V&A Dundee opens on Saturday, 1 April, until 14 January 2024.

Written by Jan Bartek - AncientPages.com Staff Writer

Source: Facebook

Source: AncientPages.com

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Another day, another independent Palestinian terrorist attack in Israel. This time, a 64 years old man was stabbed in Jerusalem, in the northern neighborhood of Neve Yaakov. The terrorist is a 14 years old Palestinian from East Jerusalem. I honestly wish we could arrest the people radicalizing these teenagers, using them like their lives and their futures mean nothing. Technically speaking, actively recruiting a teenager to a terrorist organization IS a war crime, but as we know from the way ISIS recruits people, it's not always done in a manner straightforward enough, for someone to be arrested. In this case, there is an estimate that someone has helped this teenager, and searches for this person are currently underway.

We're five months into the war, and the IDF has arrested 250 terrorists in Khan Yunis, among them are terrorists who had participated in the Oct 7 massacre. We're talking about thousands of people who were a part of those war crimes and crimes against humanity perpetrated on that day, and I hope Israel manages to bring them all to trial, if they choose to surrender.

Israel's National Security Council has issued an official travel warning for Israelis who happen to be abroad during the month of Ramadan this year, when there is an increase in Islamist calls for violence. I know this is for Israelis, but I personally think this is a good warning for all Jews, given that most Islamist organizations target us all, and make no distinction between Israeli and non-Israeli Jews. So please, wherever you are, whatever your political views, if you're Jewish, be extra cautious this upcoming Ramadan (starts Mar 10), and please pass it on to others as well.

In ocntinuation of what I wrote yesterday, that Israeli officials believe Hamas isn't interested in a hostage deal that would include a truce, and that American ones seem to think the same, now we have sources that say that yep, that's exactly US officials' impression.

Israeli minister (and Prime Minister hopeful) Benny Gantz is in the US, and has apparently tried to explain to American officials that de-militarizing Gaza of Hamas' terrorist forces, without touching the organization's last stronghold, Rafah, is like putting out 80% of a fire, and that in such a scenario, Hamas would be able to use a truce to re-arm, keep fighting, and will overall prolong the war.

Loay Al-Shareef, a Saudi man who speaks up for peace with Israel, has to be one of the bravest people I've heard about. Here is a short vid from an interview with him, talking about how he came to know Jews, and stopped hating them:

And here's a short intro for the full interview he did (I haven't had a chance to see the whole thing yet, but I want to, so this link is for me as well), which I found very interesting:

This is 71 years old Batia Holin.

She's an amateur photographer from kibbutz Kfar Azza, who has also believed deeply in coexistence, and even managed to put together a joint photography exhibition with a Gaza photographer. Here's a part of the Facebook post she used to find a Gazan partner for this:

Out of 5 photographers who contacted her, 4 ended up backing out, which is how she ended up with the one partner she did have for the exhibit. On Oct 7, as she and her husband (Nachum) ran into the bomb shelter, she saw strange men with headbands in their courtyard, realizing these must be terrorists. Batia and Nachum were scared for their family, which also lives in southern Israel, and went for 18 hours in the bomb shelter without food and water. When the soldiers arrived, she refused to be evacuated before she would know that her daughter and two grandchildren are, too. During that day, the Gazan photographer who became not just a partner, but also a close friend, called her. Claiming that Gaza was being bombed (this was a lie, the IDF was not yet operating in Gaza, it was still fighting terrorists in southern Israel), he asked her for info on the number and position of Israeli army forces. She realized he needs this info for Hamas, and hung up. Rotem, Batia's daughter, was shot and wounded, but they were all eventually rescued.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hello! I've been enjoying your writing references and notes, thank you for sharing! I was wondering, do you have any for something set during the Civil War? I've been sitting on the idea of writing a short story inspired by Little Women and I want to do it some justice at least. I would be happy with whatever you can offer <3

Writing Notes: The American Civil War

A four-year war (1861–65) between the United States and 11 Southern states that seceded from the Union and formed the Confederate States of America.

The two sides fought over the enslavement of African Americans and the rights of individual states.

The economy of the South relied on enslaving Black people to work on plantations of cotton and tobacco, while in the industrialized North, public opinion was in favor of ending slavery.

The war ended in 1865 with a Union victory.

THE UNION AND THE CONFEDERACY

By February 1861, 7 southern states (South Carolina, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas) had broken away from the rest of the US.

On 4 February, they agreed to form a separate government, the Confederate States of America.

The first shots of the war were fired at Fort Sumter in South Carolina on 12 April, and within 3 months, Virginia, Arkansas, North Carolina, and Tennessee had joined the Confederates.

23 states remained in the Union, including the slave-owning “border states”.

NEW TECHNOLOGY

The US Civil War was one of the first industrial wars in history, making use of modern technologies developed during the course of the 19th century. The war was fought across a wide area, so railways were critically important in carrying troops and supplies to where they were needed on the front lines. Generals were able to communicate with each other by telegraph.

Weapons. Fast-firing repeating rifles, such as the Spencer rifle, were used for the first time in the Civil War. The widely used “Napoleon” field gun could hit a target up to 1,600 m (5,250 ft) away. Also developed at this time was the Gatling gun, an early machine gun.

Ironclad battleships. Steam-powered battleships protected by iron or steel plates were known as ironclads. The first-ever battle between ironclads was fought in the Civil War in 1862, on the James River estuary in Virginia.

Modern Communications. In the Civil War, railroads moved troops around, aerial balloons spied across enemy lines, and the telegraph (above) sent and received instant information. Its receiver machine recorded messages on paper tape in Morse code, which uses dots and dashes to represent numbers and letters of the alphabet.

WAR PHOTOGRAPHY

The Civil War was one of the first conflicts to be extensively photographed. Dozens of photographers toured the battlefields, and their stark images of soldiers, dead and alive, brought shocking scenes of the war to the public around the world.

A Continental War. Most of the fighting in the war took place in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania in the east. There were also battles in Kentucky and Tennessee in the west and down the Mississippi River to New Orleans. In 1864, General William T. Sherman (above) conducted a major campaign in Georgia and the Carolinas.

TIMELINE

A nation divided. When 7 US states seceded (broke away) from the Union to form the Confederacy, President Lincoln refused to recognize the new government, and called on them to rejoin the Union. The Confederates refused, and tried to gain control of federal forts in the south. The stage was set for a bloody war that would last for the next 4 years.

12 April, 1861: Fort Sumter attacked. Confederate troops under Brigadier General Beauregard fired on Union soldiers who were guarding Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina. These were the first shots to be fired in the Civil War.

17 September, 1862: Battle of Antietam. The bloodiest day of fighting in the entire war took place at the Battle of Antietam, in which nearly 23,000 soldiers were wounded or killed. The Union army suffered the most casualties, but managed to halt the advance of General Robert E. Lee’s Confederate forces into the Union state of Maryland. The next day Lee was allowed to lead his shattered army back to Virginia.

13 December, 1862: Confederate victory. Fortune swung back to the Confederate side at the Battle of Fredericksburg, in Virginia. General Burnside, newly appointed by Lincoln to command the Union army, led 120,000 troops to attack a Confederate force of 80,000 – by far the largest number of men to meet in any conflict of the Civil War. Burnside was decisively defeated – a victory that gave fresh hope to the Confederates and led to complaints that the Union’s generals were doing a bad job.

1 January, 1863: All slaves to be free. President Lincoln gave new purpose and direction to the war by issuing the Emancipation Proclamation. This was an order freeing all slaves in the Confederate states. Of course, this could not happen until the Union had won the war against the Confederates, but his words would eventually lead to the freeing of millions of African American slaves.

3 March, 1863: First African-American regiment. The first official regiment of African-American soldiers, the 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment, was formed to fight in the Union army.

4 July, 1863: Vicksburg captured. Union troops captured the Confederate fortress of Vicksburg, on the Mississippi River, after a 2-month siege. It was a major turning point in the war, coming a day after the Union victory at Gettysburg. The Union now controlled the length of the Mississippi River, dividing Louisiana, Texas, and Arkansas from the rest of the Confederate states, and cutting off supplies.

15 November, 1864: March to the Sea. The capture of Atlanta in Georgia by Union General William T. Sherman in September was a heavy blow to the Confederates. Although deep inside enemy territory, Sherman decided to march his army all the way from Atlanta to the coast at Savannah. He ordered his men to live off the land and destroy farms and factories on their way. This brutal “scorched earth” policy inflicted lasting damage.

9 April, 1865: Lee surrenders to Grant. The Confederate capital of Richmond, in Virginia, fell on 3 April. The Virginian Confederate army was exhausted. To avoid further losses, Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Court House in Virginia. By May, all the Confederate armies had stopped fighting. The war was finally over.

14 April, 1865: Assassination of Lincoln. President Lincoln was shot while attending a play at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, DC. He died the next morning. A funeral train took 14 days to transport his body back for burial in his hometown of Springfield, in Illinois.

The Battle of Gettysburg. The most famous battle of the Civil War was fought over three days, from 1 to 3 July 1863, around the small town of Gettysburg in Pennsylvania. The Confederates attacked, confident they would win, but the Union army did not give way and eventually won. The battle had the heaviest casualties in the war. An estimated 51,000 soldiers were killed, wounded, or listed as missing. Four months after the battle, President Lincoln visited the site and delivered a famous speech known as the Gettysburg Address. In it, he said that the US was “dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal”.

The Abolition of Slavery. On September 22, 1862, President Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation, which freed all enslaved people in the Confederacy from January 1, 1863. In 1865 Congress passed the 13th Amendment (law change) to the US Constitution, making slavery illegal across the soon-to-be reunited country.

RECONSTRUCTION

African Americans Voting in Richmond in Virginia, 1871

The slow process of rebuilding the economy of the south, left in ruins after the war, is known as Reconstruction. Before rejoining the US, each state of the Confederacy had to agree to amendments to the US Constitution – the supreme law of the nation – that ended slavery, granted citizenship to African Americans, and gave the vote to all male citizens.

Reconstruction ended in 1877, and many southern state governments immediately reversed the new rights given to African Americans, making it hard for them to vote, go to school, or find paid work. They introduced laws that legalized discrimination against Black people that remained in place for almost a century.

Below are objects that serve as evidence of the turmoil leading up to the election and the events that happened immediately after.

Below are objects that show how the Union and the Confederacy dealt with money problems, while also exploring what was considered money then and who produced it.

The objects below belonged to the men and boys who fought on the front lines for both Confederate and Union forces. They represent what soldiers wore, what they ate, how they coped, and what they held dear to them. These items, more often than not, were the only possessions soldiers kept while enlisted; on many are personal touches added by the owner.

Below are a few objects used as weapons by both Confederate and Union armies.

Below are a few objects used by or presented to the leaders of Union and Confederate forces.

For many Americans, both civilian and military, who lived through the conflict, the Civil War was the monumental event of their lifetime. They collected relics as they adjusted to the immediate consequences of the war. The nation grappled with the residual effects of the Civil War for more than a century. Below are objects that evoked different memories from the war.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Notes & References

It's nice to hear this, thanks so much! <3 Hope these notes help as quick references. Further research might be needed if you're planning to write something more detailed.

[yanxioustrikas]

dmitri

link to the latest art of dmitri

this post is simply called dmitri, and this is hopefully everything you need to know about them! or just some fun facts lol

(this was sitting in draft since SUMMER, and since there is another rise of ocs in supablr, i thought this would be a good opportunity to revise and post this)

biography

full name: dmitri mikhailovich sokolov

pronouns: he/they

sexuality: bisexual

gender: genderfluid

age: 16 (debut), 17 to 18 (super league junior career), 19 to early 20s (post-super league junior)

birthday: may 23

height: 191 cm/6'3 ft

nationality/citizenship: russian-south african

ethnicity: russian + cameroonian

residence(s): st. petersburg, russia (birthplace), johannesburg, south africa (permanent), toronto, ontario, canada (for uni)

language(s): russian, french, english, afrikaans (fluent in first three, limited proficiency in afrikaans)

significant other: hiram romilly-choucair

family

father: mikhail sokolov

mother: nadine bahanag

sibling(s): matvey (older brother; oldest), avdotya (older sister; middle)

pet(s): squeaky (white maine coon cat)

super league junior profile

team: invincible united junior fc

jersey number: 17

position: midfielder + captain

award(s): rookie of the year, star of the match (x10), slj captain of the year (x2)

post-secondary profile

type: university

location: toronto, ontario, canada

program: fashion design - bachelor of design

varsity sports team: men's ice hockey - goaltender

extracurricular clubs: francophone club, visual arts club, cameroonian student association, literature club

possible future career: fashion designer, fashion journalist, or dressmaker

hobbies and interests

ice hockey

soccer

visual art (won a few high school awards for his artworks)

creative writing

sewing and designing

flute

dance (contemporary ballet)

russian and french literature

cooking (not great at it so they call their sister for help lol)

making mocha

strawberries

extra stuff about his family because they all have interesting lives lol

mikhail (father), he/him

a therapist, specializing in cognitive behavioural therapy and psychotherapy, and is among the best psychologists in johannesburg

did practicum at the oasis, and used to work for cognito fc for a year

ex-ballet dancer from a wealthy (and horrible) classical ballet family in moscow

other interests include dance (for old time sake and to pass on the sokolov techniques to his kids), sudoku, pilates, cooking

nadine (mother), she/her

a corporate lawyer working at one of south africa’s high-ranking law firms

cousin of el matador’s female lawyer (both also attended the same law school)

during her youth, she played defence for the u-18 cameroon's women's national soccer team

other interests include yoga, cardio, playing piano, reading classical books

matvey (brother), he/him

a flute player studying at a prestigious conservatory in london, england

has a huge platform on various social media for showcasing his passion for music

part-time job as a music tutor

other interests include reading philosophical literature, working out, photography, playing ice hockey at a recreational league (defender), dance

avdotya (sister), she/her

a food science major and a culinary enthusiast

was a contestant (two-time champion) at a national (russian) junior chef competition

currently co-president for her university’s culinary club

other interests include painting, playing intramural ice hockey (forward), dance, weightlifting, journaling

squeaky (cat), he/him

a male cat who is very talkative and friendly

was adopted from a shelter in johannesburg at 5 months olds

loves to watch the birds from inside the house, but never chases them if outside

dislikes eating fish itself, will eat if the fish is eaten with something else in the bowl

the kids love hockey and dance sm

[altf4d3lete]

MY AO3 MASTERLIST

Multichapter Fics

you’ll always be a dumb blonde. (completed)

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka

Notable Tags: Grooming, Angst With A Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Physical Abuse

Summary: Enid is manipulated by Thornhill instead of Tyler, and her world is flipped upside down when Wednesday Addams comes into the picture. Season 1 rewrite full of angst, betrayal, and wenclair (with some fluff thrown in).

60/60 📝 151,251

you’re the eye of my storm (ongoing)

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka

Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, enemies to friends to lovers, Minor Character Death

Summary: Wednesday was used to being alone in the post-apocalyptic world of the US. But what happens when she runs into a stubborn blonde girl that will change her life forever?

22/? 📝 43,345

the red means i love you (ongoing)

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Dark Wednesday Addams, Blood and Violence, Obsessive Love, Emotional Manipulation, Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Summary: Enid dies from her injuries after the fight with Tyler, and Wednesday is determined to bring her back.

15/? 📝 42,639

shadows of the wasteland (ongoing)

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka

Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Dystopia

Summary: Wednesday Addams' father is killed and marked as a traitor and she desperately needs to know why. She finds herself venturing outside of the walls that protect her city and into the unknown for answers after a run-in with her fellow classmate, Enid Sinclair, leads to leaks of government information that was hidden behind endless locks.

39/? 📝 109,656

backstabber (completed)

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka

Notable Tags: Wenclair Is Endgame, Sexual Assault, Underage Drinking, Minor Character Death

Summary: Wednesday Addams begins dating Tyler Galpin right after her and Enid break up. But things quickly begin to reveal themselves on Enid's 18th birthday. Not everything is as it seems.

20/20 📝 32,620

Polarization (ongoing)

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka

Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Discrimination, Hate Crimes

Summary: FBI Special Agent Enid Sinclair is put on a serial killing case that quickly becomes personal and dangerous. With the nation's politics already hanging in the balance due to the tension between outcasts and normies, this might just be what tips the pot. Assigned as her partner in the lab is Doctor Wednesday Addams, a forensic anthropologist specializing in criminal justice and the lead forensic scientist of the forensics team. It becomes apparent when the two meet that they are vastly different. Complete opposites, even. They begrudgingly find a way to work together as a society of terrorists threatens the outcasts' existence.

8/? 📝 31,809

fall back into place (ongoing)

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of VIolence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka, Kent/Ajax Petropolus

Notable Tags: Inspired By Life Is Strange, Alternate Universe - Life Is Strange, Underage Drug Use, Underage Drinking

Summary: Wednesday, a high school senior, is sent to Nevermore, a private school with good credentials that can get her into an impressive college for photography and writing. A month into the school year, a string of events beginning with a familiar face being shot in a school bathroom leads her down a path of investigating time rewind powers, holes in her timeline, disappearances and murders, and people being drugged.

But the hardest part of being a hero (whether you want it or not) is realizing you can’t save everyone.

5/? 📝 16,278

i'll follow you into the dark (ongoing)

Archive Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Fear Street Fusion, Inspired By Fear Street, Alternate Universe - Horror

Summary: Wednesday Addams hates this town with her whole being. Almost as much as she hates Enid Sinclair, her now ex-girlfriend, who somehow managed to escape the clutches of Shadyside. But when undead killers begin to chase after Wednesday, Enid, and their friends, she soon uncovers there's more to this town than just bad luck, and there's more to her feelings for Enid than just pure hate.

6/? 📝16,813

when summer fades to fall (ongoing)

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka

Notable Tags: Wenclair Is Endgame, Enemies To Lovers, Project Partner

Summary: Enid Sinclair happens to fall face first into the strongest force on campus; Wednesday Addams. But sometimes people change, just as the seasons do.

4/? 📝 10,532

Oneshots

you hold the key(s) to my heart

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Pianist Wednesday Addams, Pianist Enid Sinclair

Summary: Enid, a well-versed piano player, plans to spend more time with her roommate and crush, Wednesday Addams, under the guise of needing piano lessons.

📝 5,758

Green Skin

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid sinclair

Notable Tags: Right Person Wrong Time, Break Up, Getting Back Together

Summary: Maybe it was just the wrong time for them. Maybe if they met again, when Enid had settled into a stable and scheduled life. Maybe when Wednesday’s rambunctiousness had wavered. Maybe.

📝 3,305

No Other Heart Will Do

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Not Actually Unrequited Love, 5+1 Things

Summary: 5 times Wednesday Addams didn't kiss Enid Sinclair, and the 1 time she did.

📝 7,193

Nightmares and Scars

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Scars, Wednesday Addams is Soft for Enid Sinclair

Summary: When Enid wakes up sobbing in the middle of the night, Wednesday takes it upon herself to reassure her closest companion.

📝 2,843

In Every Universe

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Alternate Universe, Inspired by The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Inspired by Fear Street (1666), Inspired by Life is Strange, Inspired by The Hunger Games.

Summary: Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair are wound together with the red string of fate. They will find each other in every universe, over and over again.

📝 1,726

Bad Ideas

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Aged-Up Character(s), Smut, Sexual Tension, Blood Kink, Degradation Kink, Switch Wednesday Addams, Switch Enid Sinclair, Smoking, Drinking

Summary: Enid Sinclair finds herself immediately enamored with Wednesday Addams, a girl that goes to a different college than her. The two of them begin getting to know each other, and Enid quickly learns that she’s not the only one that had been thinking about the two of them together.

📝 8,657

from the start

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair

Notable Tags: Love Confessions, First Kiss, Pride, Wenclair Pride Event, Lesbian Enid Sinclair, Enidsexual Wednesday Addams

Summary: When Wednesday begrudgingly agrees to go to their friends' pride party with Enid, Enid decides (with a little help from their friends) that it's finally time to buck up and tell Wednesday how she feels.

📝 4,157

[mommieswithmuscles]

Photographer!Abby x Scrapbooker!Reader

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

No minors and No men

CW: fluff, angst, no smut but it has a suggestive scene, insecure!reader, mention of suicidal tendencies

Based on this song:

Title: No Flash Photography

You're at the dinner table, going through photos Abby had printed out. She reprinted everything so you could have a copy to put in the ever growing scrapbook you have yet to properly bind.

Each bin she gave you had a title so you could organize better. Nature, gatherings, events, us, and polaroids. You start with the one called nature.

You trim the edges with scissors before securing them in the special photo paper with bug stickers. The dual page is a collage of your trip to a national park. It's mostly shrubbery, plants, trees, and water, but there are some animals and insects sprinkled in.

You turn the page and make another collage out of the open space, both sides decorated with a yarn trim. Gatherings weren't really your thing, but Abby liked them, and you obviously like Abby, so you go to each one. You admire how she always brings her big camera.

The next collage is your brother's wedding. Him and his partner are dressed accordingly. You wore basic attire, Abby wore a plain suit. "When are you both getting married?" He had asked after Abby's camera shot the photo.

"Eventually," Abby answered for you both. You nodded in agreement. You knew you underdressed to match the other guests, but you couldn't help but feel you're taking away from the newlyweds. Abby caught onto your dismissive behavior and took you home early.

Shaking your head to clear out the memory, you continue to dig through the bin and retrieve more pictures. A few birthday parties, a couple engagement parties, some random game nights. You secure them with glitter glue, putting more of the colorful yarn around the trims like LEDs.

Pictures of you always have to have Abby. Otherwise you want nothing to do with them and tend to throw them away. Abby's trying to help you with your insecurity, but for some reason you can't work past it. You sigh, pulling out ones you convince yourself you like. Mostly dates, but a few random ones from trips catch your attention, so you add them. The pictures are secured with affirmation stickers that Abby bought you a few months back, when you first started scrapbooking.

The bin you were most nervous for was polaroids. You know they're mostly you, and you know they make Abby happy, but... you get upset every time you look at pictures of yourself.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Abby sits next to you, done with her work for the week. She came out of her office as soon as she was able to. Her hand cups your cheek, thumb ready to swipe away the unshed tears.

"I can't do it. I fucking- I can't, Abby. It's too hard." You kick the bin.

"Why don't I help you?" She presses her lips to your forehead. "We can start with holidays. Would that work?"

"Do it yourself," you bite.

"Don't start that. I know you're upset. I know these make you upset-"

"So why do you make me look at them? I told you that you could keep them, and now-" you gesture to the bin. "We don't need to share everything, especially not these."

"I make you look at them because I'm trying to show you what I see." She's patient. Too patient. Maybe if she could ever be mad at you, or fight with you instead of talk things out, maybe it would hurt less.

The thoughts start to spiral before you can stop them. All of the self worth and self esteem you had built towards crumbling in seconds. And there's Abby, taking care of you because you can't handle something as stupid as putting pictures in a book. Maybe you were better off-

"Eyes on me baby," her voice is gentle. Her hands guide you to face her, thumbs taking away the tears trailing down your cheeks. "That's my girl," she whispers. "You're so kind, and beautiful, and I love you more than anything. I'm glad you came into my life because you're the compass to my map. I wouldn't have it any other way. I've never been more happy than when I've been with you. I married you because you're my person. You're the moon to my stars, the sun for my flowers, and every breath I take with you fills my lungs with fresh air. I know you're in a darker place. And that's ok. We can work you through it step by step." She pulls you into her lap, rubbing your back as you bury yourself in her neck. You can smell your perfume on her. "You're safe, you're loved, you're home." Abby kisses your temple.

After you calm down, Abby lets you go. "Thank you," you sniffle, getting up to grab some tissues.

"Anything for you, my love." You get back to see Abby gluing small, flat, silver tack backs on the polaroids to secure them on the page. It looks like a cork board. Some of the photos are strung on yarn, some singles floating about, and one standing out the most. It's one of you genuinely smiling, tugging Abby along as you make your way to your destination.

"Come on, it's this way!" You had said, nearly dragging Abby through the mud. She's laughing behind you, scooping you up and kissing you once you got to the surprise spot at the creek. She kept her hands under your thighs when your legs wrapped around her waist.

"This view is almost as stunning as you are," Abby said as she put you down.

"Oh hush," you pushed her away lightly. "Ass-kisser."

"No, no, you don't know," she shook her head, voice mocking. She laid with you in the short grass, dirt dry under your backs. You initiated the contact, but she kissed you first, hands traveled along your body until you were gasping for air and begging for her.

"Baby? Where'd you go just now?" Abby's fingers tickle at your jaw as she cups your face.

"Here," you point at the picture you got lost in.

"I'm going to start dinner. Today seems like it was hard for you, and you could use some time away from the pictures for now. You- or we- can start back up soon, ok?"

"Ok," you agree easily. She's right. It's better to take a break, than let something be ruined.

[mariacallous]

One of JD Vance’s key policy advisers, Aaron Kofsky, has for years posted extensively on Reddit about using a variety of drugs, including cocaine and opiates, under the username PsychoticMammal. In the posts, which are as recent as three months ago, Kofsky wrote about experiencing withdrawal from and trying to “kick” tianeptine—also known as “gas station heroin”—and kratom; advised other users on how to transport drugs on domestic flights; and called Vance “a Trump boot licker.”

According to his LinkedIn profile, Kofsky, who is in his late twenties, has been advising Vance on financial policy since this past May, and has been working in the vice presidential nominee’s Senate office since March of last year. A recent Politico article on Vance’s “inner circle” described Kofsky as helping the senator “flesh out his opposition to some cryptocurrency regulation and his effort to introduce new banking regulations after the collapse of Silicon Valley Bank.”

Before working for Vance, Kofsky worked for the Senate Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs Committee and as a policy adviser to Securities and Exchange Commissioner Mark Uyeda. The crypto industry has seen Vance as an ally since he ran for Senate in the 2022 election and then disclosed that he personally owned more than $100,000 in Bitcoin. Kofsky has criticized SEC chair Gary Gensler’s heavy-handed approach to crypto regulation multiple times on X. Over the summer, Vance circulated a draft bill that would remove much of the authority the SEC and the Commodity Futures Trading Commission have over governing digital currency. At the time, Politico called the bill one of the more “industry-friendly” pieces of legislation.

A WIRED investigation shows Kofsky is also the person posting as PsychoticMammal. The account has posted personal details that precisely match Kofsky’s résumé, and has linked to a little-followed Instagram account dedicated to photos of Kofsky wearing preppy outfits. A review of publicly available material from data breaches provided by Constella Intelligence shows that Kofsky’s personal email address was used to set up a “PsychoMammal” account on a photography site. Furthermore, the PsychoticMammal name was used on Poshmark by a user whose avatar is a photo of Kofsky. It was also used on Tumblr by someone who linked to—and claimed as his own—a Blogspot maintained by a user named Aaron Kofsky, who posted personal details that match details of Kofsky’s biography.

The posts made by Kofsky stand in stark contrast to Vance’s own statements related to drug crime. Since being elected to the Senate in 2022, he has positioned himself as a leader in preventing fentanyl trafficking and, as recently as August, has said the Trump–Vance administration would support use of the death penalty as punishment against drug dealers. Vance, who has spoken at length about fentanyl trafficking, rose to prominence as the author of a book that discussed his mother’s drug addiction, which he referenced during his Republican National Convention speech this summer. He also argued that Democrats are letting drugs cross the border from Mexico.

After WIRED contacted Kofsky for comment, some of PsychoticMammal’s posts about drugs were deleted, and their Poshmark avatar was changed to a picture of characters from the Star Wars movie Attack of the Clones. Parker Magid, a spokesperson for Vance’s Senate office, provided a statement from Kofsky.

“Like millions of Americans,” the statement reads, “I’ve struggled with drug use, which in my case was mostly an attempt to self medicate against the effects of epilepsy and epilepsy medication. I deeply regret posting these comments. I’m not proud of this and I’m embarrassed it’s being publicized in this way, but I am thankful to say that part of my life is behind me.”

For the past 11 years, PsychoticMammal has used Reddit to document their use of a variety of drugs including cocaine, tianeptine, kratom, oxycodone, Ritalin, and MDMA. In one post from eight years ago, they listed all of the drugs they had tried to that point, rating them on a scale of one to 10.

These drug-related posts have continued while Kofsky has been employed by the Senate. In May 2022, for example, PsychoticMammal responded to a post in the r/Cocaine subreddit, giving advice on how to smuggle drugs past airport security.

“Putting a bag in between pages of a book or in your wallet is also a safe bet,” they wrote. “TSA xray machines just show different types of material as different colors. What they’re looking for is metal. Since most book covers also have plastic in them, it’ll just all show up as the same color. I’ve never had an issue.”

In January, PsychoticMammal posted a video from a Senate committee hearing in which Vance questions a former Drug Enforcement Administration agent on the increasing use of nitazenes, or manufactured opioids; Kofsky appears in the background. They posted the video on several drug-related subreddits, including r/Opioid_RCs, r/Drugs, r/Opiates, and r/ObscureDrugs.

PsychoticMammal also posted it in r/ResearchChemicals, writing, “Surprising! Politician knows about nitazenes. Ohio Senator JD Vance Asks Witness About Nitzenes. Is it just me, or is this super surprisng? Like I’m just confused how this guy had heard of zenes? I can’t imagine any of his colleagues know anything about them.”

A different user commented on the post, pointing out Kofsky and writing, “that dude on the right behind him looks high on something lol.”

PsychoticMammal then agreed with the user, writing, “Haha I didn’t notice that guy before. His eyes are def buggin. Maybe snorted some ole white girl beforehand? I’m sure half of congress rails lines.”

Later on in the thread, a different user accused PsychoticMammal of being Vance because the linked video was unlisted. “Unlisted? 21 views? Senator Vance, is that you?”

“Lol I wish! Would love to be rolling in the dough like him and his VC buddies,” PsychoticMammal replied. “Honestly when I first watched this the thought kinda crossed my mind that maybe he’s familiar because he is a fan himself, but I feel like that’s doubtful given his politics. I’m sure there are a few congressmen who indulge, but I doubt they’re using zenes or other RCs [research chemicals]. Seems like a coke kinda job.”

In the comments of a now deleted post on r/ObscureDrugs, PsychoticMammal, responding to a user claiming that nitazenes are not obscure drugs, called Vance a “Trump boot licker.”

“I just can’t believe that this Trump boot licker Vance is ahead of the curve here,” the comments reads.

PsychoticMammal described numerous instances of drug use in posts dating from the time Kofsky worked for then senator Pat Toomey and Vance. “I love coke on its own, mixed with benzos, mixed with opiates (my fav tbh), and even love a line or two after smoking a few bowls. I’d even say that coke is my second favorite drug behind opiates,” they wrote earlier this year. In May of last year, they wrote about “my latest tianeptine binge which has skyrocketed my tolerance” and “hoping to finally kick Tia”—references to an unscheduled antidepressant that produces an effect similar to opioids and which is banned in 12 states and commonly sold at convenience stores. In May 2022, they wrote: “Coke then opiates is always my go-to. I only speedball if I have enough opiates to redose when I’m out of blow.”

PsychoticMammal has repeatedly posted about suffering from an addiction to tianeptine. In a post from last year titled “ODSMT for Tianeptine Withdrawals,” they wrote, “I’m trying to figure out what the tianeptine to ODSMT equivalent dose conversion is. I have a few grams of ODSMT coming in the mail and hoping to finally kick Tia using it.”

PsychoticMammal has also repeatedly referenced using kratom, a substance sourced from the leaves of a Southeast Asian tree that mimics the effects of opioids and is often sold at corner stores and smoke shops. Two years ago, in response to a Reddit user who was seeking pain relief, they wrote: “I’ve dabbled in every drug you can think of—kratom is the one drug that really tripped me up and I found myself addicted to. Not sure what it was about it as it’s like a much milder opiate, but man that shit was hell for me to quit.”

WIRED’s investigation shows that Kofsky appears to be closely tied to the PsychoticMammal username across the internet. In 2013, for example, PsychoticMammal wrote that they were a ski instructor at the same resort, Boston Mills Brandywine Ski Resorts, that Kofsky lists as a past employer on his LinkedIn profile, and which he spoke about to Cleveland Magazine in a 2014 profile of notable area students. In another post from earlier this year, PsychoticMammal referred to the resort as their “home hill.”

In a separate post from November 2013, PsychoticMammal replied to a post about a St. Vincent–St. Mary High School football game, suggesting that they went to that school and correctly listing the final score of the game. Kofsky’s LinkedIn account lists the Akron, Ohio–based school as his former high school, and he is listed as a 2015 graduate in the school magazine.

PsychoticMammal also shared a link to an Instagram account that has posted photos of Kofsky. In a post to the r/RalphLauren subreddit six months ago, the PsychoticMammal account linked to @notyourmotherspreppy, a men’s style account that shows Kofsky wearing preppy outfits. “Anyone know what sweater this is?” the post says. The image of Kofsky used in the August Politico article also appears to be from this Instagram account. He is wearing the same vintage 1989 Ralph Lauren Country Patchwork Sweater on the Instagram account and the image used in Politico.

Before WIRED asked Kofsky for comment, a Poshmark account with the username PsychoticMammal started in 2018 used a photo of Kofsky as its avatar and listed the real name of the user as “Aaron K.” A Blogspot user named PsychoticMammal wrote about being Jewish and going to Catholic school—experiences that match Kofsky’s, according to the Cleveland Magazine article. And a VSCO account registered with Kofsky’s personal Gmail account, according to publicly available material from a data breach, also uses the name PsychoticMammal.

As recently as three months ago, PsychoticMammal posted to the r/7_hydroxymitragynine subreddit asking for help locating one of the compounds found in kratom in DC, Northern Virginia, or Maryland.

[madisonmccoy]

Rykter cast featured in Bergens Tidende while filming season 3

translated below :)

New rumors are spreading: “Getting in the mood very quickly.”

The TV success from Bergen continues: “We had to think differently”.

The TV series from Bergen is finally starting again.

Teo Tomczuk, Sisilja Garen, Martin Storebø Koh, and Alisah Süssmann also have central roles in the next season of \"Rykter\". Shown here on the sofa during a morning party in Telavåg.

By: Frank Johnson

Alice Bratshaug (photography)

Published: September 19, 2023

It is Friday morning in Telavåg. The seaside house at the water's edge is full of festive young people from 16 to 17 years old. The alcohol is on the table, the guys and girls are dancing, the atmosphere is both amorous and aggressive. Many adults are standing around, watching and filming.

Sexual identity

Suddenly, a fair haired man stands up, shouts “cut” - and everything calms down. Before the music is turned up.

“It's a bit weird to dance in the morning without music. But the crew is also moving, so we get into the mood very quickly”, says Teo Tomczuk (17) smiling when the camera is switched off.

Sisilja Garen has makeup done for new party scenes.

“The adolescents in the scene are going to be at a party, so we play music between takes. Then they're on it right away”, adds director Andreas Milde.

The Bergen company “Mothership” is finally starting to film new seasons of the teen series "Rykter" for NRK. Most recently, students in tiende klasse (final year of lower secondary school) were followed on fictitious Vesterøy. Now the main characters have started videregående skole (upper secondary school).

Photographer Christer Steffensen and part of the crew in filming for "Rykter".

Things that were hinted at in the last episode – drug problems, identity, taking responsibility – are all made clear.

“They have reached a new phase in their lives and will, among other things, explore sexual identity”, says photographer Christer Steffensen, who will also direct ten of the episodes.

Success in Italy

In addition, 30 ten-minute episodes will be recorded this time. These will be released in two parts on Norway’s national channel, probably in the first few months of 2024 (liars). The series creator is, the same as last time, Christoffer Ebbesen.

Producer Linda Bolstad Strønen is keeping up with the recordings in Telavåg.

The budget is 22 million NOK. Producer Linda Bolstad Strønen admits that it has been tough to get funding after NRK, like most other channels, has reduced its budget. Despite the fact that each episode is seen by 200,000 in Norway alone.

Therefore, among other things, they had to go to the broadcaster Norddeutscher Rundfunk (NDR) in northern Germany. Production money from the West Norwegian Film Center and the Norwegian Film Institute, as well as support from the Media Fund Zefyr in Bergen, has also helped secure a new season.

“We had to think of an alternative, so it is a patchwork of contributors. The fact that "Rykter" was also picked up by the public broadcaster RAI in Italy, with great success, gives us good momentum”, says Bolstad.

Alisah Süssmann from Fana goes to the dance department at Langhaugen upper secondary school.

The Nordic countries have aired the series. Now Mothership is betting even stronger internationally.

“It is a clear advantage that we have a finished season to show off.”

We are a "Rykter" (rumors) gang

Glesvær and Telavåg became important recording locations. This time Sund secondary school is the new base.

“The collaboration we have with the school there is incredibly important. They really show up”, says Bolstad.

The atmosphere is good between recordings at the seaside house.

Many of the main actors are students themselves, so there has been a lot of planning with parents and schools to get the schedule in place.

“Last year we shot 30 episodes in one go. Now we record ten at a time and have a two-week break until the next few. It gives everyone some breathing room”, says Bolstad.

It has been a whole year since the actors last stood in front of the camera. The party scene comes along in episode six. Now there will be recording until the middle of January.

Teo Tomczuk grew up in Solund municipality in Ytre Sogn, while Sisilja Garen comes from Øystese.

“I have missed the gang very much, both in front of and behind the camera”, admits Tomczuk, who plays Mathias.

“We are a "Rykter (rumors) gang" who both know each other well and try to keep in touch, but we live spread out. It's not often that everyone gets to meet up”, says Alisah Süssmann, Sara in the series.

We bring ourselves into the roles

They are happy that another season came. It gives them the opportunity to go deeper into the roles and explore new issues.

The seaside house they use for filming is close to other buildings.

“I was a bit afraid that I wouldn't fully get into my character, Thea, but everything came back as soon as I got on set. The production crew wants it to be authentic, so we bring ourselves into the roles. We know the characters best”, says Sisilja Garen.

“From day one, I have heard from a friend of mine: "You are exactly like yourself. What you're doing is not acting". One day the director said we should screw with the script and just do what we wanted”, says Martin Storebø Koh, who plays Felix, and laughs.

Martin Storebø Koh from Austevoll gets an even bigger role in the next season of “Rykter”.

“We have had a little part in the script’s process, and have adjusted when needed to make it even more believable”, adds Süssmann.

Followed home by young girls

And since the TV series has become a success, they are also becoming well-known again.

"I am followed home by young girls every day, they stand outside the door until my mother chases them away”, says Tomczuk and laughs. He also talks about emails from Italian fans.

Director Andreas Milde and lighting master Poul Iversen during a break.

“I happened to be in Italy and got a login to RAI. It was very strange to see yourself dubbed. They kept my laugh, but used a different voice for me”, says Süssmann.

Director of the first episodes, Andreas Milde, thinks the target audience is getting older this season.

“Since the main characters in the series are getting older, the audience will probably be older as well. But we know that 13-14-year-olds like best to watch somewhat adult series.”

_

(y'all this is literally the last promotional thing i had saved to translate... NRK why are you not hyping people up about this show?!? 🤨)

[atelierlili]

Roses are Red Chapter 2

The nation is still mourning Katniss Everdeen and whatever future they thought we would have together. They are not used to their toys dying right before they can sink their teeth into them.

Panem mourns. Peeta gets gifts.

The days after Katniss' funeral go by in a haze. I've been forced to stay in the capitol under orders of President Snow. The nation is still mourning Katniss Everdeen and whatever future they thought we would have together. To be honest, I'm getting tired of watching capitol hosts cry on national television every morning. They are not used to their toys dying right before they can sink their teeth into them.  

Strangely enough, I don't mind staying in the Capitol. And I guess the sentiment is shared. Since the news broke out, my family hasn't reached out to me at all. Not even my Father. Perhaps he didn't want to relive the past through me. Only sweet Delly Cartwright, my childhood friend, called. She was in tears. She knew better than anyone else what was happening - or rather, what wasn't happening- between Katniss and I. I told her the truth when my loneliness became unbearable during those six months after the 74th games. 

I doubt she was the only person in the know. The people of 12 aren't stupid. They know Katniss. They know Gale. They know of Katniss and Gale. They know better than to trust anything that the capitol gives us. Everyone knows Katniss ran off with Gale and their families. They know I've been left behind. Maybe it's better if I stay here for a while longer. I don't think I could handle the mockery or the pity in their eyes. Not right now. I'm not strong enough. 

On the flip side, it seems the Capitol can't get enough of me. They seem to think grief could be stamped out by gifts, parties and a long list of drugs. There is a room in my suite that is dedicated to all the gifts my admirers send now. As if flowers, sparkling jewels, clothes and love letters could ease the pain of a lost loved one. Like everything in the capitol, the people here think the problem can be bought with money and jewels. What do they know of grief? 

Effie looks through each and every one of them though. She always makes sure to send a thank you card and a small gift on my behalf. She is a sweetheart like that. 

"Oh Peeta! Look at this gift! It's simply marvelous, I'm positive you'll love it!" She says. 

"If it's another necktie, I'll have to decline. I think I have enough neckties to last a lifetime, Effie," I say as I work on a painting in my makeshift studio. 

I don't leave the room unless Effie pries me out for dinner, taking me to a capitol restaurant that she'd make a reservation for. She titters about all the high profile celebrities and ‘influencers” that are dying to meet me, but she’s kind enough to reject all offers in consideration of my feelings. She keeps me company on these lonely nights and her incessant chattering keeps me from staying in my head all the time. It works. I enjoy listening to hear her talk about things she cares about, even if I don't really understand how a four-point sparkle is superior to a seven-point one. I don't have a good relationship with my mother, but if I did, I wished it would be like the one I have with Effie. 

"I know you better than that, young man!" she says with a giddy squeal. 

I decided to humor her and set my brush down. I walk into the living room where Effie is in drowning boxes of gifts and flowers. When I catch her eye, she springs up and runs to me with a book pressed to her chest. 

"Look here!" She says and shoves the book into my hands. 

I give her a cocked brow because turning to the page and instantly I know Effie is right, for once. 

It's a photography book filled with pictures and locations of different places of the capital, I think. I'd find the book uninspiring if it were only the tall absurdist and bulky concrete buildings that line the city streets, but instead it's pictures of gardens, parks and the inside of what I assume is a large greenhouse. Flora and fauna take up a majority of the content, many of which are plants that I've never seen before. There is even a picture of an adorable white cat with yellow eyes. The final picture of a meadow in the dead of night underneath a sea of silver-white stars.

All at once I am hit with a wave of homesickness. I miss the nature of District 12. I miss the forest that lived beyond the fence and the sound of birds. I miss the apple tree I used to climb with my older brothers. I miss the meadow that Katniss Everdeen crosses everyday to hunt. There is a whole sketchbook of 12 in my closet back home. She's in there. A swinging braid in the wind. Always in my line of sight, but never to reach. 

I don't think I can go back and not think about her. 

A note slips out from the book and falls to the ground, breaking me from my thoughts. It's folded neatly in pretty stationary paper. 

I noticed you have an eye for nature, giving the subject of your paintings. You can find beauty in the most strange places. 

The Capitol has few places where flowers can grow unyieldingly, but I've tried to find a few. I think you might like them. Perhaps something will even inspire you. 

Sunlight will do you good. 

You have my condolences. 

C. Nightshade. 

"Who is C. Nightshade?" I hand the note to Effie, who plucks it out of my hand with a smile.

"Nightshade Enterprise!" Effie chirps, "they are the leading tech company that assists and manages the production of the Hunger Games arenas. The current president is Florence Nightshade. However, if I recall correctly, she has three daughters and the youngest is a beauty named Cynthia." 

My stomach twists at the mere mention of the Games. It won't be long until they start up again and this time I will have to play a part by being a mentor. And while it makes me sick that I've become another cog in this death machine, there is nothing I can do about it now. 

The games never stop, do they? And if I want even a slightest chance of keeping my kids alive, maybe having a friend as well connected as a Nightshade may have its perks. Sponsor money is what kept me alive in the arena. I should know better than anyone else how important that is. 

"Get me one of those pretty papers you write your letters on, Effie," I say, taking the slip of paper back from her. "I'll write this one myself. Afterwards we can get some dinner- your pick as usual." 

Effie squeals and beams brightly. "Oh, of course! I'm so glad to see your spirits lift. Even if it's the slightest bit!" 

I chuckle to myself as Effie's heels click away towards another room and reach for the remote on the coffee table. I like the sound of chatter as I go about the suite. My home was always busy. Someone was always doing something, whether it be my brothers wrestling behind the house or my father baking in the kitchen. Sometimes I like to turn on the holo just so I could have something playing in the background. 

I flip through the channels until I've reached the national broadcasting channel and watch Katniss Everdeen kiss Gale Hawthrone. 

Chapter 3 >>

[duckarchives]

Cod ghosts oc: Jaser “Buck” Cohen

⌗ㆍノOverview ❛🦌❛

・Name: Jaser F. Cohen.

・Indicative: Buck.(codename) and Jas (nickname).

・Height: 1.70

・Age: 38

・Birthday: February 5th

・Nationality: Federation (South American)

・Residence: French quarter - New Orleans.

・Pronouns: He/Him.

・Gender: Male.

・Sexuality: Gay.

・Dialect: Spanish as his native language, but is fluent in english.

・Universes: Ghost and extinction.

・Occupation: Cryptid hunter/Warrant officer.

・Teams: Spectre, CIF team 1 and Ghosts

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

⌗ㆍノAppearance ❛❄️❛

・Skin color: Carmel.

・Hair: Dark brown.

・Eyes: Dark brown, often mistaken for black.

・Body: Slightly chubby and muscular.

・Marks or scars: He has several on his body, but the most noticeable is his glasgow scar.

・Disability: Sensitivity to cold.

・Blood type: O+

・Clothes:

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

⌗ㆍノPersonality ❛☄️❛

— Jaser tends to be introverted and prefers solitude much more than a group of people. Don't get him wrong, he can socialize and empathetic with people, but he often ends up having no filter in his words, being almost a social idiot. His detachment and the fact that he hates following rules ends up making him be seen as an idiot, but he tries to improve. In general, he would be that friend who would be there to help you, but don't expect him to be on your side.

・Strengths: empathetic, understanding, intelligent and open mind.

・Weaknesses: paranoid, extremely suspicious, detached and troublemaker.

・Hobbies: cooking, reading, bird watching, writing and photography.

・Likes: fast food, animals (mainly reptiles), chocolate milk, dad jokes and biology books.

・Dislikes: arthropods, cigarettes, static noises and ironically heat.

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

⌗ㆍノSkills ❛🎯❛

・Fighting style: Strategy first, thinking before fighting, always preferring to keep his distance and use the enemy against enemy. But if he can't use strategy, his second option is free combat.

・Weapons: Weapons expert, so he can use any weapon. He always keeps extra throwing knives and has a preference for automatic guns.

・Distinctive weapon: Hypno knife

・Special skills: Analyst, translator, cryptographer, weapons specialist, and cryptozoologist.

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

⌗ㆍノFamily ❛🧸❛

・Family status: Alive, second son.

・Dad: N/A

・Mum: N/A

・Sibs: N/A

・Relationship with his family: He has a good relationship with them, but prefers not to talk about his family and gives vague descriptions about them. He has two sisters and a niece.

・Pets: Toffee, a brown-furred mixed-breed cat.

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

⌗ㆍノLore ❛📷❛

Born into a family of immigrants from the Federation, Jaser grew up doing odd jobs to try to support his family. Even though he was encouraged to focus on his studies, he would often do anything to give his family money to at least get some food.

At 18, he joined the army to try to get money for his family. Even though he wasn't one of the best, Jaser managed to stay in the army long enough to establish a good life for them. But all that changed in 2017, after the Federation used the Odin satellite to attack the United States.

At first, he thought he would be sent to help civilians and was surprised to be told that he would be on a special mission. A large crater was formed in Caldera Peak in Colorado. But what caught his attention the most was a strange activity at the site and the report of civilians about abnormal creatures. Upon arriving there, Jaser was curious to see the cryptids for the first time, but it didn't take long for those creatures to attack and his team to be reported missing.

Fourteen months later, Jaser was found at the Nightfall facility. He was sick and on the verge of anemia when he was examined by the doctors. Archer saved him and took him to the facility. His memories of what happened during the months he was missing are confusing and hazy, but he managed to tell them about the experiments that took place there, as well as the deaths of Samantha Cross and Archer.

After that, he was sent to a rehabilitation program, but it didn't take long for him to return to the field, since a team of CIA agents in partnership with the army were creating a group to hunt the remaining cryptids. He was called to this team and didn't hesitate to participate.

Ten years later, he received a report of cryptid activity in the Amazon rainforest, in Federation territory. He knew he wouldn't be able to invade the place alone, but his Handler had already formed a plan. Jaser would be sent to help the Ghost team, with the objective of decrypting and translating the files of the traitor, Rorke. He would use this team as a means of entering the Federation.

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

⌗ㆍノRelationships ❛🏔️❛

— He has respect for members of a higher rank than him and even likes some, but in general he is neutral with most of the Ghosts, Riley is the only one he trusts for now.

— Buck doesn't really care about this Ghosts vs Federation fight or Rorke's personal revenge, he understands that the war is something serious and both parties are affected, but he believes that a war between two nations is less important than the extinction of humanity.

— Maybe this is influenced by his family coming from the Federation, he lived through it and knows that this war ends up harming more people than others might think. So in a way he doesn't completely hate the Federation like the other Ghosts, in short, he doesn't hate the civilians who have their lives harmed by this war.

— Now about Archer, Samantha and the ancestors, he hates them all and is happy that they are dead.

— As for the cryptids, does he see them as enemies because they can cause the extinction of humanity? Yes, he hates them? No, he understands that this hatred is influenced by the ancestors and that cryptids are nothing more than irrational animals that follow their instincts. He even has an interest in knowing about their biology and how their minds work.

— Buck didn't know Torch, he knows he was a ghost who was tortured by Rorke and that's it. And about Ajax, he got to know him, but they never really interacted.

— And about Victor Ramos, while the Walker brothers and Keegan were blowing up a building, Buck infiltrated a clinical research center because he needed to kill a target, he only found out that they came out of that building alive three hours later.

— And what do the ghosts think of him? He's weird, he doesn't interact, but he doesn't bother them either. Sometimes he gives Riley food and baths, but most of the time he's taking care of Rorke's files.

— Keegan is the one who distrusts him the most, why do they need Buck if Kick could decrypt the files and he would translate them? But Jaser always responds that it's to save time so they can focus more on the mission, why waste time with files if you could be planning better how to save Logan?

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

⌗ㆍノCuriosities ❛💥❛

— First of all, Ghosts and Extinction are the same universe but in different timelines, the idea of cryptid hunters came from an old theory I had created to explain why there are no cryptids in Ghosts.

— Buck is a fake codename he uses to infiltrate the Ghosts, the real Buck was one of Jaser's partners who died to a scorpion.

— In this world Samantha Cross and Archer died, Jaser had been found by Archer while he was on the verge of death and was taken to nightfall facilities to test a theory. In the end, the tests only proved that Samantha is special and Jaser, luckily, only had problems with his immune system.

— The scar on his face was made by a hunter, but he has a larger one on his chest that was made by a phantom.

— During his months of rehabilitation, doctors noticed that he developed a sensitivity to cold. Ironically, he hates the heat and loves most of the winter olympic sports, his favorite being figure skating.

— If there was a universe where he didn't go to the army and his family had the financial means, he would have graduated as a biologist.

— And finally, his build in extinction is weapon specialist, incendiary ammo, mp-443 and armor. The rest you can choose as you wish, but he wouldn't use it.

⊱꒰☕꒱・──────{ ˚₊⊹🥞⊹₊˚ }──────・꒰☕꒱⊰

Sorry for any english mistakes, I haven't downloaded Duolingo yet for fear of my family being kidnapped. Buck is a test and then I'll see if I can post other ocs.

For now, you'll see posts of this social idiot who loves killing aliens.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Pettiness by u/Feisty_Energy_107

Pettiness From CDAN someone kindly listed the times they remember how Harry and Meghan have tried to upstage royals:"1. She debuted ARO at the same time William was giving out awards in honor of his mother (I believe she did it ONE HOUR before his speech!)Harry did interviews about "Spare" the day before Catherine's 41st birthday, including saying some not so nice things about Catherine, all lies, but doing it the day before her birthday!!Netflix documentary was released just as William and Catherine were landing in the US, their first visit since QEII died. (People were pretty sure Harkles demanded the release at that moment.)Walmart Willis announced her "pregnancy" at Euginie's weddingOprah's interview was released just hours after QEII's Commonwealth speech.On Euginie's birthday, PH just had to release an announcement of his new job as "Chief Impact Officer" at Better Inc. (Sure that's "not" a made up title -- ha ha ha)While Catherine and William were promoting Mental Health Awareness Week at various charity events, PH just had to release a podcast talking about how bad he was treated by his dad.Catherine had been working on a book about photography for a year and the release date was set up months in advance. Just before the release date, Walmart Willis had to release her "book" "The Bench."Harkles had to release a Christmas photo of their "family" just hours before Queen was giving her Christmas speech, trying to "outdo" the Queen!On the night before QEII's birthday, PH just had to do an interview claiming HE is the Queen's protector! Ha ha ha!Harkles just had to release some photos of when they were in the UK right when KC released an official photo of himself as King for the first time.And they have the audacity to wonder why people hate them?" ***********This is just some of them I know. Because I remember Camilla having a big speech on domestic violence and yet Walmart Wallis thought it a good idea to turn up to the National Theatre. post link: https://ift.tt/P0hTl1N author: Feisty_Energy_107 submitted: June 15, 2024 at 10:52AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.