#then at the end when he was listing who else was in it george was the last in the list

[feminist-space]

"Yes, you read that right: Chicago is spending $33 million to build fake housing and commercial buildings in an overpoliced community that could really use their actual, real-life equivalents. No Cop Academy organizer Destiny Ball laid it out plainly to Block Club Chicago: “To find out that they’re building a scenario village when there are thousands of people, homeless, with nowhere to go … it’s sickening.”

Architecture sometimes lays bare the contradictions in urban life, but rarely does it do so this explicitly, if not mockingly. A first phase of the training campus is nearly done, and the “tactical village” will begin construction this summer. The campus, which rises on the site of a former rail yard, will replace seven facilities currently in use. The second phase will be built by a joint venture of Berglund and Brown & Momen. The City’s website lists the design architect as DLR Group. The company recently published a blog post in which Andrew Cupples defended its work on juvenile justice systems, claiming that DLR remains “undeterred in the belief that design excellence contributes to better outcomes for youth who enter the justice system.”

“Justice system,” to this critic, reads as a remarkable euphemism for a place to detain children. Incredibly, the City lists the project as part of Mayor Lori Lightfoot’s INVEST South/West platform which seeks to direct about $1.4 billion in funding to previously underdeveloped neighborhoods.

The City neglects its citizens—especially its Black and Brown ones—before policing them with militarized tactics. This is, after all, the police force that was found to be using “black site” tactics—essentially kidnapping and torturing civilians at Homan Square, a property it owned on the West Side—until an exposé in The Guardian in 2015 spelled its demise. This is the police force whose officers shot 13-year-old Adam Toledo to death in 2021 and paralyzed another unidentified 13-year-old boy just a few weeks ago. These are the law enforcement officers who have made arrests in only 6 percent of rape cases. Per Alex Vitale’s book The End of Policing, this is the police department that arrested 8,000 Black schoolchildren, more than half of whom were under 15, in 2013–14 alone.

Chicago suppresses funding for housing, schools, environmental remediation, public health, and transit, but it generously funds cops. This is not only ineffective, given the statistics and reality of police brutality, but immoral.

Any architect who participates in realizing the carceral program of police surveillance and terror is complicit. Architects often characterize their work as impartial, but the reality is that the form of the built environment is regularly weaponized by those in power. Architects are moral actors who have the agency—individually, but especially collectively—to see a project like this and decline to participate.

At times, activism comes in the form of saying yes to certain advances, but in this case it more powerfully comes in saying no. This denial of service can come in the form of whistleblowing to journalists, organizing political resistance among your peers, or finding a new job. After George Floyd’s murder in 2020, when Michael Ford (the hip-hop architect) learned that his then employer SmithGroup was to work on civic buildings with holding facilities, he left. In the fall of 2020, AIA New York attempted to discourage members from working on spaces of incarceration. The work of Colloqate explicitly demands the end of architects working on behalf of police and provides alternative solutions for reallocating police funds toward endeavors rooted in community building and racial justice.

Architecture exists at the all-important nexus where political ambition is given form. Resistance to terrible carceral projects from architectural firms matters—if no one draws the plans, the efforts stall. Sure, someone else can do it, but the broad systemic woes of capitalism don’t excuse us—mere individuals—from living ethical lives. It is unethical to work on a project that will be used to oppress and terrify Chicagoans, just as it is a project of criticism to be explicit about architecture’s role in surveillance, police expansion, and, by extension, urban policies that govern by force, not by support. So, to the leaders of architecture offices who are currently overseeing construction documents for a fake strip club in western Chicago, I see you. The architecture world sees you. You can and should do better than this."

-Kate Wagner is an architecture critic and a journalist.

[keerysfreckles]

hii babes congrats on 1k!!! prompt 3, 5, 17 & 12 with max?

how you love me — MV1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: one sexual innuendo if you squint

prompts: the others notice chemistry and point it out at any time they can, always turning their head if your name is mentioned, the causal flirting turning into something else because you start to have feelings for them running into their arms after being away for too long, kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

a/n: on my period rn FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE

masterlist ! | 1k celebration prompts !

. . .♡ the others notice chemistry and point it out at any time they can.

ever since max started bringing you to the paddock, rumors started spreading quickly through the grid. they all noticed the longing glances you two shared. daniel's pointed it out ot you multiple times in the past week. same thing with alex and lando towards max.

"max, you realize you haven't stopped looking at y/n since you guys got here?" lando stated to the dutchman, in which he only grumbled and walked away.

whenever you all were out during the weekends, they still noticed.

alex and logan were deep in a conversation about which soda was the best, when logan turned his head at the sight of max and y/n. max had his arm wrapped around the girl, while they were talking in a small group. of course the williams drivers were quick to tell the other drivers.

at the paddock the following week, charles and carlos may or may not have been spying on y/n and max from outside the redbull garage. the ferrari drivers watch how close max and y/n stand, with max's fingertips tracing lightly over her arm. from a bystander's point of view, anyone would say the duo has heart eyes. "and they still say they're just friends." carlos mumbles under his breath.

. . .♡ always turning their head if your name is mentioned.

lando and oscar were sitting side by side against the wall of the mclaren garage. all of the drivers were waiting for free practice to start, and were wasting time in different ways.

"so who's coming to the team party this weekend?" lando can't keep track of his emails, so he can't help but ask oscar.

"obviously all of the drivers, and i'd think whatever girlfriends are able to come," oscar replies.

lando starts listing off the girlfriends, ending on y/n. oscar continues with the conversation, until max comes up towards the mclaren drivers.

"what were you saying about y/n?" max asked, his tone laced with nothing but curiosity.

lando and oscar just laughed, this wasn't the first time max got distracted by y/n's name alone.

sometime last week lewis, max, carlos and george were talking while walking into the paddock together. george was on a tangent about why wet wheels were the best invention on the planet, but max's head turned as soon as someone walking by mentioned y/n. he felt his cheeks flush slightly, and he couldn't help but feel saddened when his girlfriend wasn't around.

. . .♡ the causal flirting turning into something else because you start to have feelings for them running into their arms after being away for too long.

you knew max was the type of friend to use physical affection. it was his go-to when he was congratulating someone, or giving someone a quick side hug when he thought they were upset.

it wasn't out of the ordinary for max to be hugging you right now. well– hugging might not be the right word. he was crushing your ribs while spinning you around after getting told he was world champion yet again.

once he took his helmet and balaclava iff he couldn't help but kiss your cheek, which caused a pink shade to adorn your face.

moments like this only occured more. max was most likely by your side whenever you were around, and vice versa with you. max constantly kissed your cheek, but you thought nothing of it besides an add to your friendship. the constant flirting didn't go unnoticed by the other drivers and even some team managers. christian couldn't help but notice how close you and max have gotten in the past weeks, physically and emotionally.

once you had to leave max and the other drivers because your job required you back home in england, you felt like you lost your other half. it's been weeks since you last saw max. you missed him. you missed his smile, and his laugh, and the way his hand ran through your hair perfectly. you were quick to realize what these sudden feelings meant.

when you got off the plane in bahrain, for the final grand prix of the season, your anxiousness skyrocketed. you were planning on kissing max. for real this time. and you needed to tell him how you felt. you haven't told anyone, not even your own mother.

minutes felt like hours, as you watched max pull into the first place spot, securing yet another world chamption title under his belt. your smile grew as he got out of the car. his eyes only bulged once he realized you were at the front of the red bull crew. he ran to you, muttering dutch under his breath in astonishment and in unbelief. your arms wrapped around him, as his did to you, and you never wanted to let him go. "i love you," you whisper, not thinking he hears your words. less than two seconds later, he whispers the same three words in his native language.

. . .♡ kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

max couldn't stop kissing the tip of your nose. you don't even remember how the tradition came about. maybe once after a race? or it could've started during one of your many mornings in a hotel room. however it may have started, you definitely didn't want it to stop.

you thought it was the sweetest thing. it showed he still cared and adored you, but yet was still miniscule. you've returned the favor a few times, all of them catching him by surprise. once after he cooked you breakfast, again before he had to get ready for a race, and lastly just as you two woke up after a night you'd never dare to forget.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #shelbi's 1k celebration #max verstappen #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x fem reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fanfic

[burntb4bydoll]

hcs for tokio hotel when they’re jealous? i know george would be clenching his jaw SO hard and gus would have such a hard ass side eye

UGH I LOVE JEALOUS BOYS. SO HOT.

Tokio Hotel when they are jealous headcanons

Bill Kaulitz

•SO MANY DIRTY LOOKS OMFG

•hes literally looks like this 🤨

•obviously not at you, but at whoever hes jealous of.

•he sees someone else ‘stealing’ (in his words) your attention away for him and he immediately comes up behind you and hugs you from the back

•pda is not usually his thing, so yk somethings up. You can practically feel his jealously radiating off of him

•if you continue the conversation with the other person, he’ll get impatient and start to leave wet kisses down your neck. And hes making eye contact with the person while doing it

•loves getting you worked up by whispering in your ear

• “babyyyy~ lets go home so I can play with you, hm?”

• “ive been thinking about getting you alone all night…why dont we ditch this asshole and go back to my house?”

Tom Kaulitz

•if anyone’s getting jealous its definitely him

•You’re his. He doesn’t want anyone else to have you.

•definitely takes a more passive aggressive approach

•he wraps his arm around your waist and grabs you by your chin to kiss you right in front of the other person

•then he’ll just casually look at them after and go “oh hey. I didnt notice you here, my bad.” AND HES SMIRKING WHILE SAYING IT. HES SUCH A LITTLE SHIT

•he’ll ask them such ridiculous questions

• “arent they so pretty? Im lucky, I get to date this angel.”

• “wouldn’t you like to take them out on a date? They’re a real sweetheart, very nice to go out with.”

•LIKE SIR?? WE GET IT. THEY CANT HAVE YOUR S/O. CALM DOWN.

•will randomly stop talking to make out with you?? The other person ends up walking away because they were just sitting there watching Tom shove his tongue down your throat💀

Georg Listing

•silent type of jealous

•he’ll just watch the situation unfold. UNLESS they start getting a little too bold, then he’ll step in

•his jaw is basically locked shut. Hes sucking his cheeks in with frustration every time he sees you smile or laugh at whatever the person said

•eventually he gets sick of watching and hell walk over to where you guys were standing. He wraps his arm around your neck lightly and pulls you to rest your head under his chin

•then he turns the attention away from you and starts a conversation with the person instead

• “hey, who are you again? I don’t think I recognize you. Oh me? Yeah, Im their boyfriend.”

•he wont let anyone flirt with his s/o, especially when its right in front of him🙄

Gustav Schäfer

•LORD HES SO PETTY ABOUT IT

•literally giving them the biggest stink eye anyones ever seen

•if looks could kill, they would be long gone

•he stands next to you with his arms crossed, occasionally scoffing at whatever the person’s talking about

•he’ll chime in every one in a while to correct them on something just to make them look stupid. Again, hes petty😭

•LOL HE WOULD FAKE LAUGH AT WHATEVER JOKE THEY MAKE BUT ITS ONE OF THOSE OBNOXIOUSLY FAKE LAUGHS

•after a while the person is still not getting the hint that you’re taken, so he’ll put his hand on your ass and lead you away from them before you could finish talking

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #georg listing x reader #gustav schafer x reader #bill kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #georg listing fanfic #georg listing smut #georg listing #gustav schafer #gustav schäfer smut #gustav schafer fanfic #gustav schäfer

[httpsserene]

ʟᴇᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏ ɢᴏʟꜰɪɴɢ ᴡ/ ʟɴ4

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: maybe you shouldn’t be late to any event you go to, or bare minimum don’t make any bets you know you’re not going to win. having no hand-eye coordination is not great when you’re being forced to play golf.

📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: i think i’m funny. one or two dirty jokes. and reader does have a lil injury (nothing bad). not edited at all 😎

📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: the doc says 900 words?? it feels longer idk

📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: lando x black!fem!reader (it’s mainly twitch trio focused-alex,george & lando)

📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smau

📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: swang • rae sremmurd

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: i’d like to remind everyone that the people asked for this hellscape! you 🫵🏽 asked for it. it’s long, like LONG. anyways: max is definitely the type of dude to use the cat emojis. my bad to my charles girlies, he did not make the cut for this 😔 i had to get rid of like three or four ig posts and stories to make this all fit into one tblr post, and none of that had charles content 🫠. also, the plot damn near ran away from me, but it’s barely there—it’s kinda more friend focused than lando x reader until the end! uh there’s one part in here that was inspired by tik tok comments, y’all will know which one 😅 inspired by the fact that my brother hit me with a golf club when i was a child 🙂i think i’m pretty funny so i hope you guys find this funny asl, otherwise what did i do this for?

if you want me to post the outtakes lmk

send me some requests or talk to me pls 😅

want to be on a tag list? tell me in my inbox <3

georgerussell63

liked by lilymhe, mercedesamgf1, and 4,100,123 others

georgerussell63: off to a terrible start for golf day. my girlfriends “wife” is crashing the party, and my mates gf is already -4 after two holes 🙂

view comments

lilymhe: light work 💪🏼 no reaction🥱

user: not his girlfriend’s wife ☠️

➥ user: who does he think keeps carmen’s bed warm when he’s not at home???

alex_albon: welcome to watch mojo! and today we’re counting down our top 10 times our gf’s ditch us for each other 🤨

➥ user: and?

➥ user: what else are they supposed to do alexander 😀

y/ninstagram: put some respeCK on my name princling, or next time i see u its on sight 😡 im aiming the golf club straight at you

➥ georgerussell63: you can’t even hit the golf ball in under three tries, or aim anywhere near the holes

➥ georgerussell63: i think i’ll be fine

➥ y/ninstagram: 😟😐 i'll remember this george william russell, ur asking for it

carmenmmundt: george failed to mention that he’s +3 already

➥ georgerussell: like, literally nobody asked you to say that 😒

➥ landonorris: drag him !!! he doesn’t get to say shit about our wife 😤

➥ carmenmmundt: *my wife

➥ user: lmfaooo im 💀

alex_albon

liked by y/ninstagram, carmenmmundt and 3,431,543 others

alex_albon: ladies and gentlemen, introducing: *my* girlfriend 🤤✨

tagged lilymhe

view comments

y/ninstagram: we MUST stay focused sisters

y/ninstagram: gawd damn‼️ wifey could hit me with that golf club any day

➥ carmenmmundt: fuck the club, i’ll let her run me over w the cart🥴

lilymhe: next hole, i’ll show you guys what a proper stoke is 😏

➥ lilymhe: since our bf’s seem to underperform…on the golf course obv

➥ user: AYOOO?!!

➥ carmenmmundt: okay 😇

➥ y/ninstagram: why r my thighs wet rn

➥ user: dO THEY KNOW THIS IS PUBLIC

alex_albon: i’m at a loss for words

➥ landonorris: this is literally your fault

➥ georgerussell63: can’t believe you mate 🫤

➥ alex_albon: how is this MY fault??! whattddiddiddoo

lilymhe • 5hrs ago

view replies

y/ninstagram: idk y ur complaining? the cart is parked. on its side, but it’s parked😊

carmenmmundt: i think we’ve punished ourselves

alex_albon: should’ve left her ass at home like i said 😒

francisca.cgomes: idk even know why y’all let her drive the cart😨

y/ninstagram • 4 hrs ago

view replies

maxfewtrell: ur joeeee kingggg. ur joe king 😐

francisca.cgomes: i wouldn’t even trust u with the scorecard—but pop off !!! girl boss shit

danielricciardo: SO I HAD TO, GRIND LIKE THAT TO SHINE LIKE THIS 🗣️🗣️‼️💯

lando.jpg

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,862,431 others

lando.jpg: “i have the highest score out of everybody here! +26 up on y’all hoes!” - y/n

tagged y/ninstagram

view comments

lando.jpg: BRO SAID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING 🥶🥶🔥🔥🔥

➥ maxfewtrell: SHE SOUNDS FIRE 🔥 ON MUTE ‼️💯

lilymhe: SHE GOT A HIDDEN TALENT 🔥🔥🔥 KEEP IT HIDDEN 🔥🔥🔥

➥ alex_albon: no talent ✅ JUST STRAIGHT ASS 💯💯🗣️🗣️🔥🔥

georgerussell63: THIS IS FIRE 🔥 PUT IT OUT ‼️

user: SHE SPITTING BARS 💯💯💯 PUT HER BEHIND THEM 🔥🔥🔥

user: THE SILENCE IS SO LOUD WHEN THIS HITS 🗣️🔥🔥

user: WE STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM 🔥🔥🔥 NOW WE’RE DIGGING 🗣️🗣️🔥💯‼️🙌🏽🙌🏽

y/ninstagram: y u hurt me 😪

➥ carmenmmundt: i think you’re underrated, honestly <; 3

➥ y/ninstagram: aw ty carmie :)

➥ carmenmmundt: I HOPE IT STAYS THAT WAY 🥶🥶‼️‼️🙌🏻🙌🏻

➥ y/ninstagram: bee-eff-eff-aur: be FUCKING for real 😒

y/ninstagram • 3 hrs ago

view replies

maxverstappen1: i don’t want to laugh—man who TF am i kidding 😹😹😹

alexandrasaintmleux: how THE fuck did u manage to give yourself a concussion??!

carlossainzjr: pobrecita😪 how 😭 terrible 😭 can you tell lando to come over when ur done

carlossainzjr: hello

carlossainzjr: niña i can see you reading my messages

landonorris

liked by carlossainzjr, mclaren, and 6,234,765 others

landonorris: thank you for all the wishes about y/n (not u carlos, you’re in time out). she only has a mild concussion, and verbally assaults me when i wake her up every two hours 😒 to make sure she’s alive 🤗

view comments

landonorris: god forbid i stop her from dying 😱

➥ carlossainzjr: heyyy be nice to her she’s in another world right now

➥ landonorris: u r not slick sainz. don’t expose our affair to my gf when she’s injured

➥ carlossainzjr: she won’t even remember this 🥺

➥ user: sir👁️👄👁️, this is a wendy’s drive through

➥ user: they know this on the internet 4ever right…?

lilymhe: this girl swung the club, missed the ball, and let go of the damn club no follow through

➥ carmenmmundt: it hit the ground and ricocheted back at her

➥ alex_albon: and she got knocked on the forehead hard asl

➥ georgerussell63: the noise it made was hilarious 😂 y’all should’ve been there

➥ user: geORGE WILLIAM????

➥ georgerussell63: i’m mad we didn’t get it on video smh 😔

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems

© httpsserene 2023

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lando norris #alex albon #george russell #charles leclerc #lando norris smau #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x black!reader #lando norris x yn #lando norris imagine #george russell x reader #alex albon x reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 scenario #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #max verstappen x reader #serene’s fave. #serene’s chapters. #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr #lando norris x y/n #daniel ricciardo #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: ln. #✩°｡⋆⸜ smau

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 1: The Fall-Down House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, alligators, kids, parenthood, smoking, cupcakes!

Word Count: 7.2k (she's very chonky for a first chapter).

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Since this is the first chapter of a new series, I'm going to tag a bunch of usual readers, but I won't tag you again unless you want me to. 💜

@persephonerinyes @tinykryptonitewerewolf @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @marbles-posts @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @dd122004dd @jetblack4real @joliettes @mariahossain @minttea07 @please-buckme @florent1s @tempt-ress @wintersire @w3ird11 @eltherevir @florent1s @maii777

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰🧁

“What do you want to do to me?” you whisper through the phone, stretched out across your bed like a cat as George Michael’s Faith plays from the baby pink Panasonic boombox out in the kitchen. It’s late afternoon, and fading daylight falls in tiger stripes through the window blinds. The May air is hot, muggy, golden; cicadas hum in the southern live oaks, an ancient earthen music like rattling bones.

A few seconds pass before he can reply. It was a bold way to begin. You are admittedly a little impressed with yourself; an idea like this has been pacing around in your skull like a beast behind bars for years, but you’ve only now set it loose. “That’s difficult to explain in words,” he says; and in the low, teasing purr of his voice you can hear that your gamble paid off like striking oil. He has a British accent, which you never would have expected. You only recognize it from clips you’ve seen of Prince Charles and Princess Diana on 60 Minutes. “But I’d enjoy showing you.”

It’s laid open beside you on the bed, his personal ad in the Bayou Journal: Educated white male in his mid-20s. Single and not looking to change that. Seeking an open-minded, adventurous, and spirited lady for short-term D/s arrangement. Be prepared to answer the following riddle: I’m small but loom large, I’m Italian but French, I give away much to gain little. Who am I? Best regards, An Indecent Gentleman. “I’m waiting.”

“You understand what is meant by D/s?”

“Of course,” you say, your best feigned flippantness. You only know because Amir told you; he’s been daring you to call for three days.

“Thank God,” the man on the other end of the line sighs. There is an inhale like a drag on a cigarette. You imagine what he might look like: broad or slight, dark-haired or blonde, striking or average or homely, treacherous or safe, forbidden fruit or just plain forbidden. “I’ve had four different women ring me thinking I’m going to be their boyfriend, dinner and flowers and everything. They’re functionally illiterate down here.”

How unfortunate, you think. He’s highfalutin. But alas, no one is perfect. That’s no prohibitive obstacle. He doesn’t need to be faultless; it’s not as if you’re planning to marry the guy. “I like when someone else is in control.”

“Why?” This is a test, you can feel it. You can sense his rapt attention across the wire, through the electricity and the lush treetops and the rust-amber sky.

“I have a lot of…responsibilities in my real life,” you explain. “A lot of pressure. I make the decisions, I look out for other people. Sometimes I want to be the one who’s told what to do.”

“I can make that happen. And the riddle?”

“It’s Napoleon.”

The grin is sharp and triumphant in his voice. “Good girl.”

“He was short but an emperor. He was born in Corsica to an Italian family, but he ended up ruling over France. He sold off a bunch of French colonies to focus on conquering Europe and still couldn’t quite manage it. But the U.S.A. got this charming little corner of the world as part of the bargain.”

“You’re a historian,” the man says, sounding pleased.

“No sir, we all had to learn about him in school whether we wanted to or not.”

“Sir,” he echoes, tasting it, savoring it. You imagine a pink tongue flicking out to skate across his lips. Then he is abruptly cool, impersonal, businesslike. “Listen, I’ve got a scar down the left side of my face. It’s thin, it’s clean, but it’s noticeable. The eye is glass, although you can’t really tell unless you look closely. Is that a problem?”

A scar? Is he a veteran? A lion tamer? A motorcycle enthusiast? You try to remember what kinds of hobbies British people have. Isn’t there some kind of sport where men swing sticks around while riding horses? That sounds like it could put an eye out. Perhaps to your own surprise, you find that you are more intrigued than uneasy. Oh, you realize, dull like dawn through mist. I like him. I want him. Not just THIS, but HIM. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Brilliant. I don’t want to talk about it again.”

“That’s fine.” You hesitate. “There’s actually something I should tell you too.”

“Hm?”

The hum of his voice is arrogant, hungry. You try not to get distracted. Blood rushes hot and ashamed into your cheeks. “Um, well, uh, sometimes it’s difficult for me to…you know. Finish. Not when I’m alone, just when I’m with a guy. Especially if I’m anxious. And I don’t want to feel worried about faking it or making sure it happens or dealing with you getting offended or upset or whatever. Because it’s fine, really. It doesn’t mean I’m not having a good time. I’m just…stuck in my own head.”

There is a sound you can’t quite match to an expression, an exhale, a scoff. “Obviously I wouldn’t be mad at you. But you’ll come. I know you will. I’ll make you.”

And you’re flooded with a relief that you never dared to hope for. A confession spills out in a trembling whisper: “Please.”

“When?” he says, eager, urgent.

“I think if we don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve.”

There is a razor-thin pause, and then he asks for your address.

~~~~~~~~~~

You haven’t had a man in your bed in years; you are abruptly and unkindly reminded of this when you paw through the top drawer of your bedroom dresser and find only practical, deadly unsexy cotton Kmart underwear. You dash to the closet, yank open the squeaking door, and—tucked away in a cardboard box of winter clothes like sweaters and jeans, forgotten, needless—unearth a sprinkling of insubstantial silk and lace, all in luxurious gemstone hues: amethyst, ruby, sapphire, onyx, emerald.

“Oh, hallelujah.” You throw off your sunshine yellow shorts and tug on what were once upon a time your favorite panties. They don’t fit nearly as well as they used to; they fit horribly, in fact. They evaporate the thrill and leave nauseous trepidation in its place. “Oh God. Oh no. Oh no, oh no.” You steal a harried glimpse of the clunky black alarm clock on your nightstand. The flashing red numbers inform you that you have approximately ten more minutes until he arrives.

You jog pantsless to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of sweet tea—ice cold, bright with a squeeze of lemon juice—and pace back and forth across the wooden floor as you sip it. The pine boards slope at just the slightest angle; if you laid an apple by your feet, it would roll. The house is sinking. It was built at the turn of the twentieth century, but it won’t live to see the next. Ailing sunlight casts your shadow against the wall, mint green, spider-leg cracks inching through the paint. Outside cicadas buzz and doves coo in long, mournful whirrs.

You pick up the phone—pink to match the boombox that is now playing Poison’s Nothin’ But A Good Time—next to the refrigerator and dial with one finger, your other hand still clutching the frosty glass of sweet tea. It rings twice before he answers.

“Wassup?” Amir says distractedly. You can hear a commotion from his living room on the other side of town: his grandmother squawking, ambient applause, Wheel Of Fortune.

“Quick, what should I wear?”

“Huh?”

“The guy! The guy from the ad! I called the guy! What should I be wearing when he shows up?”

Amir cackles. “Ho, you must be truly desperate, why the fuck are you asking me?” There is some shrill protestation in the background. “Grandma, don’t you dare try to act like you’ve never heard that word before, we just rented Aliens.”

“You know what men like,” you plead.

“Not the straight ones!” And then, not to you: “Grandma, calm down. Grandma, Grandma! It’s my homegirl. She has an emergency. She’s got a man coming over and she doesn’t know what to wear. What did you wear for Pop Pop? What? What?! You expect me to believe you got seven kids out of that dude with just some old floral nightgown?! Prairie girl fabulous? Looking like you’re on your way to join the Donner Party? Okay, if you say so! Phyllis knows best!” Amir’s attention returns to you. “Grandma suggests a nightgown.”

You are skeptical. “That seems slutty.”

“You’re inviting some stranger over for an all-expenses-paid ride on the Pussy Express and you’re concerned about looking slutty?!”

He has a point. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. You’re right. Okay.”

“You wear that nightgown with confidence and you take that random kinky man directly to bed, do you understand me?” Amir orders.

“Totally,” you say, gulping sweet tea with a shaking hand.

“Good luck. I gotta go, it’s the Bonus Round. Hope you have a few rounds to tell me about tomorrow.” Then he hangs up.

Back in your bedroom closet, you find a black satin slip that runs to your ankles and flows like a ballgown. You put it on some nights when you’re feeling desirable, after a bath of bubbles and steam, candles and Madonna, freshly shaved legs and shimmering with Pond’s, when you want to lounge around daydreaming, when you want to remember the fantasies you once had about what your life might turn out to be. Now you wear it in the fading daylight, nothing underneath and golden sunbeams turning your skin to something that warms and glows.

You appraise yourself in your dusty dresser mirror, and you think: Not too bad, actually. You’ve had your hair up in a haphazard bun. You reach to take it down, then stop yourself. You like the wayward wisps, the I-don’t-care-too-much casualness. Your breathing is slow and calm again. There is a noise outside: tires crunching on gravel. Your glass of sweet tea, now mostly just ice cubes, is sweating on top of your dresser. You grab the glass, swipe the Bayou Journal off your bed, and take both to the kitchen counter, still speckled with flour, powdered sugar, flecks of cinnamon. Then you pad across the sloping wooden floor in your bare feet to open the front door. Amber dusk streams in; you can hear bullfrogs croaking and the hoots of the long-eared owl that lives in the collapsing, overgrown shed behind the house. Spanish moss hangs like cobwebs, like chandeliers. The tree swing rocks idly in the breeze. The first notes of You Shook Me All Night Long play from the kitchen boombox.

His car is red, sporty, with a logo on the grill that you don’t recognize, a series of circles intertwined like rings. He cuts the engine and steps out into the driveway as you watch from behind the screen, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest. He’s tall, trim, blonde, wearing Adidas sneakers and light-wash jeans and a Marlboro jacket that it’s far too hot for. He peers around, taking in the trees and the house through his black aviator sunglasses. He puffs one last time on a cigarette before putting it out on his own windshield and starting towards the porch. And immediately, primally, you crave him like water or air.

He climbs the groaning steps, splitting wood and rusty nails. You open the screen door to meet him in the threshold. And he takes off his sunglasses so he can look at you, stowing them in a pocket of his jacket, his gaze not wavering from yours, his lips not saying a word. Yes, he has a scar, but it doesn’t diminish him in the slightest. Yes, his left eye may be glass, but you wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t already told you. You’re too tangled up in the right. His iris is a brisk greyish blue, not like the ocean, not like the bayou, more like the sky before a hurricane, heavy with the threat of wind and rain. His face is strong, jarring, beautiful in a rare way. His full lips are curling into a grin.

At last, you speak first, an inane observation that feels somehow significant. “You found me.”

“I did.” He nods towards the large lavender sign out by the mouth of the gravel driveway. Hand-painted on it are the words Hummingbird Bakery and a logo that Amir designed, a hummingbird feeding on the frosting swirl of a cupcake as if it’s a flower flush with nectar. “You told me to look for the sign. That helped.”

“What kind of car do you drive? I don’t recognize it.”

“It’s an Audi Quattro.”

“Audi,” you repeat, like a hopelessly distant place, New York City or Los Angeles or Paris or the moon. “Is that British?”

“German, actually.”

“You’re from a very different world.”

“Yeah, I am.” His eye flicks up and down your body, black satin that curves and clings; his grin widens. “But I could learn to like yours, I think.”

You step back so he can follow you inside. The screen door shuts with a bang. Under the shadows, as the sun sets into the west, he unzips his Marlboro jacket and tosses it onto your living room couch. Underneath he wears a white t-shirt. We’re opposites, you think dazedly, wondering what he will taste like when he kisses you. He grazes his fingertips down the front of your throat, continues to your chest, stills when he hits the satin of your slip.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to,” he murmurs, and you breathe in his smoke and cologne and dauntless, dizzying self-assurance. “But until you say stop, I’m gonna keep going.”

Your heartbeat is drumming beneath his hand, part exhilaration and the rest nerves. You are afraid of disappointing him; you aren’t sure what to expect. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Aemond.”

Aemond. Foreign, like Audi, like Paris. You give him your own in return. He leans in, presses his hips to yours, denim and satin that you can feel his heat through. And you think he’s going to kiss your neck, or bite it, bruise it, mark it, claim it, claim you; but he only ghosts his parted lips from the edge of your jaw to your bare shoulder, inhaling slow and deep, drawing your atoms into his lungs until they tumble down the narrowest corridors and into his capillary beds, into his bloodstream. You moan softly, helplessly, and turn your face to kiss him.

“No,” Aemond growls, teasing you, catching your chin with one hand to hold you still. His other hand glides down the front of your slip and stops between your legs. Through satin the color of a starless midnight, his fingers stroke you roughly, commandingly. Animalistic yearning bolts low to weaken your knees, high to rip a gasp from your throat. “Nothing underneath,” he notes in approval.

Oh, I like him, you think, in equal parts ecstatic and petrified. I REALLY like him.

But are you going to be able to impress him too? Are you going to ruin this?

You whimper, unintentionally and almost inaudibly. Aemond is studying your face; furrows appear in his scarred brow, so faint and fleeting you might have imagined them. Then his hand retreats as he says: “Show me your toys.”

You gape up at him; this is not what you anticipated. “What?”

“I want to see how you make yourself come. You have toys, don’t you?”

“I do,” you admit, though you’ve never used them with anyone else before.

Aemond smirks mischieviously, then commands: “Show me. Right now.”

You lead him to your bedroom and slide open the middle drawer of your dresser. You glance at his reflection in the silvery glass of the mirror; he’s staring, not at your body but at your face, his gaze locked with yours, his mouth open, entranced, hungry. You move to stand against the wall, smiling sheepishly as Aemond shoves aside folded sheets and pillowcases to reveal your collection. It’s nothing too adventurous: five vibrators in different colors, styles, sizes.

“Quite the assortment,” he praises.

“They were gifts from a friend.”

Now Aemond is dubious. “A friend?”

“Don’t be jealous. He doesn’t like women.”

Aemond laughs, warm and boyish like he’s breaking character; and you are alarmed by the wave of fondness for him that crashes through you. It’s something that could pull you under. It’s something you could drown in. He picks up the largest vibrator: long, thick, pink like soft feminine vulnerability, like love. Then he is darkly, deliciously stern again. “On the bed.”

“No.” Not because you’re genuinely protesting. Because you want him to make you.

Aemond grabs you around your waist and drags you towards the bed as you squeal, giggle, fight him halfheartedly. He throws you down onto the wildflower-patterned duvet and climbs between your thighs, parting them as he pushes the hem of your black satin slip up to your waist. Abruptly, you are bare for him, exposed, fiery dusk air cool against your wetness. Aemond is still fully clothed, white shirt and pale blue jeans. He is holding your legs open with his own. You can see the bulge of his cock beneath the denim: at least as large as the vibrator and hard with insistent longing.

I want him, you think as you hear the vibrator click on. I want him, I want him…

Aemond brings the pink silicone tip to your flesh, and instantly you’re ravenous. It shocks you how much more erotic this is when someone else is holding it, when someone else has you entirely at their mercy. You cry out, loud and shameless, euphoric. Your back arches; your fingers twist into the duvet. As he presses the vibrator down more forcefully, Aemond braces his hips against yours, grinding into you through his jeans, taunting you, conquering you.

You fumble for the button and zipper of his jeans. “Please—”

“No,” Aemond snarls, beaming, snatching your hand and pinning it up by your head. His other hand is still circling your clit with the tip of the vibrator. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

“Aemond, please, I need you—”

“No,” he says, defiant. He makes the rules. He has the power; he’s in control. Suddenly, he pulls the vibrator away. You yelp in dismay. “You know,” Aemond quips cavalierly. “It’s a shame you have such a difficult time finishing when you’re with a man. I bet you’re not even close.”

“I am,” you whine, in agony, in ecstasy.

Aemond pretends to be surprised. “Hm.” He returns the vibrator to your skin, slick, hot, aching in the most wondrous way. You sigh as the pleasure surges through you, as you soar up to the previous plateau and then begin to ascend beyond it. You must have repositioned yourself without noticing; Aemond releases your hand to smack his palm against the inside of your thigh. “Keep your legs apart. I want you wide open for me.”

“I will, I promise.” I’ll do anything you tell me to.

Aemond’s hand ventures lower. Two of his fingers glide inside you and thrust in time with his hips. “Fuck,” he hisses, breaking character again; and something rocks through his shoulders, his spine, a divine temptation that he is battling.

“Aemond, more,” you plead, looking at the massive outline of his cock under his jeans.

“Not yet,” he pants, fucking you with his fingers as the vibrator hums against your clit. “You have to come for me first, baby. You have to earn it.”

And you’re close, you really are, you’re closer than you ever would have imagined you’d be with him tonight, this stranger, this elusive British man, this man from a personal ad in the Bayou Journal that you almost never replied to. Your hair has come undone and is wild around your face; your heart is pounding frantically; your skin is bathed in a sheen of victorious perspiration. When was the last time someone made you feel like this? You can’t recall; the answer might be never. There is a spellbinding, intensifying sensation of warmth, of opening, you’re only seconds from the brink, you’re ready to step off the precipice and into open blue air the same color as his eyes—

Aemond yanks the vibrator away again, grinning toothily down at you.

“No!” You scrabble for him with shaking hands, pulling yourself up as you reach for the vibrator. Aemond pushes you back onto the bed. Despite your protests, you love the feeling of his weight on top of yours; you love the organic symphony he’s built of, muscle and bone and skill and power. His fingers are still pumping in and out of you, keeping you soaked and throbbing, pinning you to the edge of an orgasm without permitting you to succumb to it.

“It’s going to be so good for you like this, baby,” Aemond insists, low and raspy. He’s reading your face, attentive to every detail, drinking up your desperate body and quivering voice. “I swear I’m not torturing you for no reason. Let me show you. Let me take care of you. When it happens, it’s going to blow your fucking mind. Are you ready?”

“Yes, now, please, do it now,” you whimper as you lie beneath him, open, bare, senseless, vanquished.

Aemond drags his tongue over the tip of the vibrator, moaning with lust as he tastes you. Then he at last presses the pink silicone to your clit once more. In your electrified nerves, in your scalding blood, there are sparks and momentum and currents rushing towards the cataclysmic breaking of a rogue wave. “Nice and slow,” Aemond murmurs. “Let it build.”

Instead of the peak, you reach another plateau, so high and so rapturous you can’t stand it, you can’t fathom climbing any farther. It’s becoming so sharp and intense it’s almost painful. Fresh anxiety flashes in your mind like lightning. The momentum begins to dissipate like dewdrops under the late-morning sun. Oh no, I’m going to lose it, I’m going to disappoint him—

Aemond lifts the vibrator off you again; before you have time to collect yourself enough to speak, to apologize, he’s slipped his fingers out of you and carefully guided the vibrator inside, stretching you, filling you, thrusting rhythmically but not too viciously or too deep. He places his thumbprint on the place where the vibrator was just seconds ago and circles quickly, once, twice, again, and then…

You try not to scream, but you can’t help it, can’t stop it; the climax wrenches out of you indescribable pleasure, vanished fears, awe and relief, twisted muscles and gasping breaths, every electrical impulse of every atom, and each time you believe it’s over it rolls a little farther like an endless summer afternoon. When it’s done—truly done—you aren’t sure exactly how it happens but suddenly you’re sitting upright on the bed and the vibrator is lying forgotten on top of the duvet and Aemond is laughing, kissing you—sweat and nicotine, smoke and salt—and caressing your face with his hands, saying: “You were such a good girl. You did amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

“Okay,” you exhale unsteadily, smiling. You nod to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “Your turn.”

“No,” Aemond says primly.

“What?”

“No,” he repeats. “Not today.”

“But…but…why?”

The curl of his lips is crooked and playful. “To prove I’m not just here to get myself off.” He kisses you again, far more tenderly than any random dom from a personal ad should. “You don’t trust me. But maybe next time you will.”

“How could I trust you? I don’t even know you.”

“We’ll have to spend more time together.”

“You seriously aren’t going to fuck me right now? Me? A mostly-naked stranger you met up with exclusively for the purposes of fucking?”

“Are you dissatisfied?”

In truth, no; your pulse is slowing, your thoughts are calm, your lust is satiated, you’re reasonably certain that you’ve sprained no less than four muscles. You feel like the sky after rain: emptied, unburdened, untroubled, at peace. “Not at all.”

“Then you shouldn’t be complaining.”

You reach out to touch Aemond’s unscarred cheek and he smiles. You try to ghost your fingertips over the left side of his face and he flinches away, leaves the bed, takes the vibrator to the bathroom to scrub it with soap and water. “Can I at least pour you a glass of sweet tea or something?” you call after him. “I feel guilty. I feel like I didn’t uphold my end of the bargain.”

“You exceeded all of my expectations,” Aemond says with a strange sort of somberness. “But sweet tea sounds great.”

You take five minutes to clean up and change into real clothes—ratty denim shorts and a red, white, and blue Pepsi t-shirt, chaotic hair, no bra—and then meet Aemond in the kitchen. He’s surveying the large circular table, which is littered with covered cake plates in a hodgepodge of sizes and colors; you found most of them at yard sales and thrift shops. The sun has set and the stars have risen; the kitchen is illuminated by yellow-hued florescent light. Night air flows in through the screens of the open windows. The boombox is currently playing Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now.

“What’s the deal with that?” Aemond asks about the cluttered kitchen table.

“They’re the baked goods. For my bakery.”

“Right,” he says, remembering, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “The sign out front.”

“Would you like anything? Today we had butterscotch chiffon cake, coconut custard cake, blackberry dark chocolate cupcakes, pecan pie, red velvet brownies, lemon blueberry cookies, lavender black tea cookies, chocolate meringue pie, butter pecan muffins…”

“How about those?” He points.

“Oh! Those are banana bread cupcakes. One of my favorites.”

“Banana bread…cupcakes?”

“Here.” You plop one on a plate for Aemond, then go to the refrigerator to pour two tall glasses of sweet tea. “A lot of people put chocolate chips in their banana bread, but I feel like any chocolate really eclipses the banana flavor. It’s so subtle, you know? So what I do instead is cinnamon, honey, cream cheese frosting, and a tiny bit of sea salt mixed into the batter. If you get the ratio just right, there’s this really great blend of saltiness and sweetness, and the banana is still the star of the show. Of course I’ve fucked up plenty of times too and almost given myself dangerously high blood pressure. If I ruin a batch, I’m the one who has to eat it. We can’t let anything go to waste. Our profit margin is thinner than a crescent moon on the best months.”

“Oh my God,” Aemond says. He’s taken a bite and is now gawking at the banana bread cupcake. “You made this?” He gestures to the table. “You made all of this?”

“My best friend Amir runs the business with me, but most of the recipes are mine. My mom used to bake all the time when I was little. Now she has rheumatoid arthritis and has given it up, more or less, but that’s where I learned a lot of what I know. And I try to come up with new ideas each week to add to the rotation.”

“This is exceptional,” Aemond says. His mouth is full of the rest of the cupcake. He washes it down with a few gulps of sweet tea; ice cubes jangle in the misty glass. “This is, like, insanely good. Can I have another one…?” He’s already lifting the cover off the cake plate.

You chuckle. “Yeah, seriously, have as many as you like.”

“How much do you sell them for?”

“The cupcakes are $1, but you don’t have to pay me. You get the unrequited orgasm discount.”

“Just $1 each.” Aemond is incredulous. You aren’t sure what that’s about. He sets the second cupcake down on the table, tugs a black leather wallet out of his jeans pocket, and gives you a $10 bill.

“Aemond, really, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Take the money. Stop talking about it.”

You smirk up at him. “Is that an order, sir?”

He grabs your jaw with one forceful hand, kisses you roughly, bites your lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He tastes like cinnamon, honey, sugar, sex. “Yes,” he says, grinning wickedly. Then his hands drop to unbutton your shorts. The idea of stopping Aemond doesn’t even cross your mind; your desire for him—him specifically—is back, flaring red and primeval and irresistible. “I want you on top of that counter—”

Outside there are footsteps bounding up the front porch, loud on the creaking boards. You tear away from Aemond and hurry to re-button your shorts. What? Already??

You know exactly who it must be.

Well, now I’m definitely never going to see Aemond again.

He’s terrified, he’s wondering whether he should try to jump out of a window. But really, he’s already been spotted; his Audi Quattro is still waiting for him in the gravel driveway. “Please don’t tell me that’s your homicidal armed boyfriend or something.”

“No,” you say. “It’s my daughter.”

“Wait, your…?!”

The door swings open; you hardly ever lock it. Cadi trots in just as you are flipping over the copy of the Bayou Journal on the kitchen counter so Aemond’s personal ad is no longer visible. Instead, what now faces up—dotted with flour, powdered sugar, cinnamon, grease stains of butter—is a column about the rigs opened in Lake Verret. Just what this town needs, you think distractedly. An environmental disaster.

“Mom, whose radical car is that—?” Then Cadi spies Aemond and blinks at him a few times. She is ten years old but thinks she’s your age, short hair, short temper, denim overalls and a t-shirt underneath patterned with multicolored horses.

“This is Aemond,” you explain. He waves awkwardly and then resumes nibbling on his second banana bread cupcake, avoiding her scrutiny. “He’s a friend.”

“But you don’t have any friends,” Cadi replies.

“Watch it, Child Of The Corn. I have friends.”

“You have like one friend.”

“What happened to your sleepover with Mawmaw? I thought you were excited to trick her into watching Hellraiser.”

“Blockbuster didn’t have it. Then Great Aunt Ethel called and said she broke her hip. Mawmaw dropped me off here on her way to the hospital.”

“And she didn’t even think to check with me first, huh?”

“As if you’d have anything better to do.” Cadi races to the refrigerator—careening around a shellshocked Aemond—and heaves open the door. “What’s for dinner?”

“I think we have some Swanson’s meals left. Oh, and spaghetti.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “Who made it?”

“You’re in luck! Not me. Amir.”

“Yay!” Cadi trills, then drags out the pan and begins spooning mounds of spaghetti onto a plate. Aemond looks to you, intrigued.

You say: “I bake, I don’t cook.”

“She really doesn’t,” Cadi concurs.

“Completely different skillset.”

Cadi places a few paper towels over the heaping plate so sauce doesn’t splatter all over the microwave and then sets it to three minutes. As she waits to eat, she wanders over to where the Bayou Journal is lying on the counter and scans the page: Viserys Targaryen, three state-of-the-art oil rigs, Lake Verret, an additional 50 employees hired, Jade Dragon Energy. “Those bastards are going to get their way, I guess.”

You sigh. “Yup.”

Aemond is alarmed. He polishes off the last of his cupcake, frowning as he licks frosting from his lips. “You don’t approve?”

“They’ll blow up the whole town,” Cadi says matter-of-factly.

You smile wanly at Aemond as you sip your sweet tea. “You work for Jade Dragon, right?”

He stares back at you—stunned, perhaps even fearful, a deer flooded with headlights—but doesn’t speak.

“It’s alright. I figured you must. Some smart British guy way out here in Cajun Country? It’s gotta be for a job. Don’t worry. We won’t shoot and skin you or anything. It’s not your fault. You’re just collecting a paycheck, it’s not like you’re running the company.”

“Right.” Aemond grabs a third cupcake and gnaws at it. After a moment he adds: “I have a degree in petroleum engineering. I just moved to Napoleonville last week.”

“I knew it,” you say.

“Boo!” Cadi heckles jokingly. The microwave beeps, then she disappears into her bedroom with her plate of spaghetti. You hear Cadi turn on her little television and flip through the channels until she finds Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Aemond watches her closed door for a few seconds—still processing, you assume—and then turns back to you.

“Her name’s Katie?”

“Cadi. C-a-d-i. It’s short for Arcadia.”

He is impressed. “Greece?”

You titter nervously. You don’t know what he means. “It’s a town up by Shreveport, it’s where Bonnie and Clyde were arrested or killed or something. I’m not sure. Her father picked it.”

“You didn’t have an opinion?”

“Um, I wasn’t really…uh…conscious for a few days after she was born. By the time I was up and around again, he’d already filled out the birth certificate.”

What is that you see flicker across his face like the transient surge of a lightning bug? Curiosity? Apprehension? “I see. And her father is…” Aemond raises a blonde eyebrow, the one his scar cuts through. “On an aircraft carrier somewhere?”

You laugh. “He’s not deployed. We’re divorced, Willis lives about fifteen minutes down the road. It’s amicable.”

“So I don’t need to worry about him showing up on your front porch to murder me with a 2x4 full of nails.”

“No. Although he is the town sheriff.”

Aemond smirks. Is this a challenge or an inconvenience? “Why’d you two split up?”

You shrug, glancing at Cadi’s bedroom door. She is quite aggressive with her television volume; you’re confident she won’t be able to listen in if you keep your voice low. “It’s not that interesting a story.”

“I’m extremely interested.” And he sincerely appears to be, head tilted to the side, eyes fixed on you (though you know the left one sees nothing), thoughts whirling like storm winds.

“Well…we only ever got married because of…” You gesture towards Cadi’s room. Aemond nods, following along. “And I was too young and I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what I wanted out of a man, I didn’t even know I had the right to set standards to measure a husband by. Willis wasn’t terrible. He didn’t hit me. He just wasn’t really who I wanted.” You chew at your lower lip, peering down at the kitchen counter, drawing circles in the sparse flour dust. “He never even proposed to me. Not properly, I mean. I told him I was pregnant and he said: Well, guess we oughta get married, huh sugar? and then drove me to the Kmart up in Gonzales to pick out a ring.”

“Classy,” Aemond mutters.

“I had to buy it myself, actually. Willis didn’t have enough cash on him. He paid me back later, but still. It wasn’t about the ring. I don’t need gold and diamonds. But I need someone who really sees me and understands me and chooses me, you know? I’ve never felt chosen. And I decided I didn’t want to settle for that. If I ever get married again, I want the whole goddamn thing. The real thing. I want the candles and the flowers and a boombox blasting Heaven Is A Place On Earth. And if that’s not in the cards, I guess I’m not the marrying type.”

“And you’ll make do with occasional visits from your friendly neighborhood dom.”

You grin up at Aemond. “Yeah, exactly.”

“You really hate Jade Dragon?”

“Companies like that…they just use us. Our land, our labor. And then when they decimate the place they pack up and disappear overnight, no pensions, no retirement, no unemployment, no meaningful cleanup, just Thanks for the millions! Bye! and we’re left to live in their filth.”

“That’s a rather cynical perspective,” Aemond says.

“It’s a realistic perspective,” you counter. “In 1965, there was a pipeline explosion in Natchitoches, in ‘79 there was an oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, in ‘80 a Texaco rig accidentally drilled into a salt mine under Lake Peigneur and destroyed the whole ecosystem. Two weeks ago there was a refinery explosion an hour east of here in Norco. 4,500 people had to be evacuated from their homes. So no, the jobs sound nice, but in my humble estimation they’re not worth dying for.”

Aemond considers you, a look that is not patronizing or combative but not convinced either. And there’s something else too: a caginess, a nervousness.

“And these Jade Dragon people, the Targaryens? They have a history,” you continue. “I read about it in the Bayou Journal. Last year they had an oil spill at an offshore rig near Ketchikan, Alaska. They poured hundreds of thousands of barrels of poison into the ocean and killed a bunch of dolphins and whales and everything. Fishermen went bankrupt, people committed suicide.”

“Mistakes happen.” Aemond places his empty sweet tea glass in the sink.

“But they didn’t make it right. Their lawyers blamed a defective piece of equipment and kicked liability back to the manufacturer. They’ll be battling it out in court for the next decade. And meanwhile, the people of Ketchikan get nothing but misery. I don’t want Napoleonville to end up like that.”

Aemond gazes out the kitchen window and into the cicada-rattling night, faraway, pensive.

“But seriously,” you say, more casually now. “I get that it’s not your fault, Aemond. I don’t hate you or anything. You’re working for a living like anyone else. You can only do so much.”

He looks back to you and smiles vaguely. “I just go where they tell me to.”

“And that’s why you like to be in control when you’re with me.”

“Yes,” Aemond says; and on his face—strong, scarred, perfect—you can see that he is reminiscing, that he is planning what he wants to do to you next. But he can’t do any of it. Not here, not now.

“I’m sorry about…you know. The kid thing. I really didn’t think she’d be home tonight. I would never subject her to something like that, walking in to find a strange guy in the house. And I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable either.”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“I don’t usually do this. I’m sure you think I’m lying, but I’m not. I’ve had two boyfriends since I got divorced seven years ago, and both times it didn’t last long and Cadi never met them. And it wasn’t…like it is with you. The dynamic, I mean. The…control thing. They were just normal dudes.”

“And they couldn’t satisfy you,” Aemond says, taunting, proud, setting your blood on fire.

“No. They couldn’t. Not even close.”

You both stand silently in the kitchen amidst a cascade of inconsequential noise: Eurythmics from the little pink boombox, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from Cadi’s room, cicadas and bullfrogs and the long-eared owl from the world outside that is primordial and feral and green. For the first time in as long as you can remember, you feel not like the piecemeal potential of a desirable woman but whole. Aemond’s right eye traces every curve and edge of you in a way that makes you think: Maybe I will see him again after all.

“Come on,” you say, turning towards the front door. “I’ll walk you out.”

But when he steps onto the creaking porch—pulling on his Marlboro jacket, watching lightning bugs bloom like daisies in the yard—Aemond seems to be stalling. “This is lopsided,” he says, tapping the wooden boards with his Adidas sneakers.

“I know. The whole foundation is, it’s sinking. We’ll have to move eventually. But we’ve been in this place since Cadi was five, it has a lot of memories. She calls it the Fall-Down House.”

“Cute,” Aemond says, but he’s pondering something. “Do you own it?”

“Oh no, God no. We rent.”

“Are you saving for a down payment to put on a new house?”

This is a rude question. “A little,” you reply curtly. Not enough. You need to make money to save money.

“Okay.” Aemond senses your discomfort. He’s good at that; it’s an advantageous skill for a dom to possess, knowing when he’s approaching a limit long before you have to shut him down. He descends the porch steps. “I’ll be back for more of those cupcakes—” There is a shrill, alien hissing from out by the tree line. Aemond shouts and scrambles back onto the porch, throwing an arm in front of you to shield you from his enigmatic nocturnal adversary. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Just a gator,” you reassure him, amused.

“A what?”

“An alligator.” You show him the shadow that lurks beneath a young oak tree draped with Spanish moss. “She’s over there. Just stay on the gravel once you get off the porch.”

Aemond is puzzled. How does anyone live in this hellscape? his face says. “How do you know it’s a female?”

“She’s not too big, and she doesn’t bellow. But she sure loves to hiss.”

“I think alligators should have gone extinct with the rest of the dinosaurs.”

“Well, there’s a secret to dealing with them.”

“Yeah?”

You smile, skating your fingers into the sleeve of Aemond’s Marlboro jacket and up his forearm until you feel goosebumps rise on his skin. “If she gets mean, you just have to bite back.”

Aemond chuckles, turns your face towards his, kisses the apple your cheek…and then, for only a moment, his teeth close around the sensitive flesh there leaving a whirlpool of pulsing, forbidden heat. He whispers through your hair: “See you soon.”

“Will you?”

“Yes,” he says, severely now. It’s a commandment, it’s a need. “I absolutely will.”

Aemond leaves you, strides across the gravel driveway without glancing back, ducks into his car, lights a cigarette; you can see the rust-colored glow through the windshield as he takes a drag. You wait in a flurry of moths under the dim florescent bulb of the front porch until his Audi Quattro veers onto Route 401 and disappears.

I hope he meant it, you think as a lightning bug lands on your knuckles and illuminates there like the gemstone of a ring. I hope I’ll see him again.

Then you shake away the insect and go inside to see if Cadi wants to help you clean up the kitchen and get a brown sugar pie baked for tomorrow. As compensation, you’ll offer her the $10 bill Aemond gave you for the cupcakes.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

[landoom]

F1 FANFICS REC LIST - Kid Fic (no Mpreg)

(Am I Ready) To Be Loved? (25098 words) by Roger_That_Sarge Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Daniel Ricciardo Summary: Daniel thinks his new teammate hates him, but what he doesn't realise is that Lando has a reason for never staying late at the facorty or going for drinks with him. He just never expected that reason to be a tiny, sassy, three year old daughter who could light up a room. Lando thinks it hilarious that Daniel believed he hated him, but when he starts to spend more time with him, he wonders if he's ready to let someone else into his and his daughters life after all this time.

oOoOoOo

Where you go, I go (5457 words) by landoscar Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “Talia, sweetheart, you’ve got to come with me to work, okay?” Lando’s voice held a gentle tone as he reached up, sweeping her hair away from her face. “Why I go to daddy’s work?” Talia mumbled, her words slightly hindered by the bright pink dummy in her mouth. “Because daddy has to work! Auntie Ria can’t play with you today, so we’re going to go play at work!” Lando gave her a radiant smile, to which she returned instantly. “Take your dummy out, sweetie.” Talia popped the dummy out of her mouth with enthusiasm. “Is papa racing?” Her eyes lit up with joy. “I wanna watch papa race!” OR In which, Lando and Oscar are the fathers to a little girl named Talia Piastri-Norris.

oOoOoOo

love you with the lights on (28507 words) by nyoomfruits Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “I texted him,” Lando says. “He can’t have forgotten about me, I texted him, and he never texted back.” Max shrugs. “Maybe he didn’t know what to say. After all, how do you tell your fuck buddy that you’ve accidentally gone out and acquired a baby?”

oOoOoOo

I feel everything tonight with you (6358 words) by sadcornyfuck Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: “So, she says something about a Spanish Stallion. You would like to ride one, yes?” ~ Carlos and Lando meet in a supermarket, Lando's kid is there to be the only wingman he'll ever need.

oOoOoOo

summer sun after the rain (11769 words) by gentleau Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen Summary: “Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”

oOoOoOo

you and me till the end of time (28293 words) by alltimecharlo Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell Summary: The one where George has a four-year-old daughter and Alex is her preschool teacher.

oOoOoOo

you'll be alright (19269 words) by nyoomfruits Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen Summary: Charles is not an idiot. He knows there’s a part of him that has been at least a little bit in love with Max for as long as they’ve known each other. But he’s always been able to shove it down. Burying it under rivalries and competitiveness until it was getting hard to differentiate between love and hate. And that had worked, for a really long time. And then Max had to go and barge into his life and be really fucking cute with his baby.

oOoOoOo

don’t want you to be a stranger ( i just wanna call you my own. ) (9007 words) by leclerclovebot Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: “I don’t know why I’m panicking,” Lando says, throwing his hands up into the air. Carlos just laughs, tossing his head back onto the couch. He’s tan—well, tanner than usual. The time spent in the Austin and Maranello sun has done him well…Not that Lando normally thinks about Carlos’ tan level.  “I do not know why either. We are going to be fine, why would they say anything bad about Finch?”  And Carlos has a point.  Finch is a golden child. He is clingy and he is attentive. He never strays five feet from Lando unless he has to, like at school or when he’s sleeping.  or, the five times that carlos and lando co-parented on accident, and the one time they finally realized.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #formula 1 rpf #formula 1 fanfic #fic rec #rec list #carlando #landoscar #dando #lestappen #maxiel #galex #george russell #alex albon #max verstappen #oscar piastri #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #kid fic

[livingproofoftbd]

list of awesome manhunt plays

because i always forget which plays are in which videos. figured i'd put it here if anyone else wanted it

2v1

the OG pearl clutch when sapnap dies and he gets his stuff

3v1 round one

covering the water with planks so the hunters die when they jump (MY FAVORITE) (its the first i ever watched :,D )

hunters lava trapping the end portal

3v1 rematch

he drinks the fire res as he jumps into lava and bad dies falling after him

tricks the hunters into thinking his fire res is more strength

as bad and sapnap turn back, he shoots an arrow from a mountain and hits bad from ~100 blocks away

3v1 finale

building a new nether portal to trick bad

splashing an invis pot so no one knows who anyone is

he sets up an end crystal trap in the stronghold and kills them all

bad sneaks up on him and kills him when he’s on half a heart after just killing the other two in the end

3v1 finale rematch

wearing bad’s skin

building his nether portal in a tower

dropping his sword just in time to land on a horse after being knocked from his portal with no water

3v1 grand finale

placing boats under him to cross a lava lake

dropping tnt into the end portal and putting the hunters in the void

4v1 round one

using leaves to tower up and hide in the nether cieling

snd promptly use a fishing rod to pull ant and bad up and kill them from fall damage

we all know it, we all love it. Towering up in the middle of a lake and using frostwalker boots to kill the hunters when they fall

the hunters using end crystals to heal the dragon

4v1 rematch

ant jumping down in the temple with him and setting the tnt off

he kills sapnap and ant with a tnt minecart

the hunters getting prot 4 armour

building a portal on the nether roof and trapping them there with no flint and steel, leaving them to kill themselves to escape

he digs under the end stone and hides in the middle, exploding bed after bed under the dragon as it perches

4v1 finale

ladder clutching when sapnap knocks him down off a tower on the edge of a mountain

trapping sapnap and george in cobwebs and blowing them up

hunters getting full enchanted diamond armour and building a huge castle around the nether portal that dream combats by drinking an invis pot

entity cramming george with minecarts and getting his gear

he lands an MLG on the side of an ISLAND when the dragon hits him

4v1 finale rematch

half a heart and no hunger but still chasing the hunters

the western showdown between dream and sapnap

the under-lava duel between dream and sapnap

ant killing dream with a splash potion

4v1 grand finale

scaffolding glitch

setting off fireworks and killing all the hunters in the portal room

5v1 round one

the boat clutch of all time after sapnap hits him off the tower

stealing sapnap’s enchanted diamond axe and diamond pick

stealing ant’s look and dropping tnt when the hunters dig down

the hunters revive the dragon

5v1 rematch

jumping off the mountain into a village water source

the second boat clutch of all time when he lands on a ghast

rearranging tnt to blow up under the hunters instead of under his portal

visiting the end city

5v1 finale

falling as the tree grows and breaking a leaf at the last second

covers the portal in the nether and overworld in lava

that daylight sensor pearl trick where he disappeared hundreds of blocks from the stronghold

the ender dragon glitch with the water really high above the main end island

5v1 rematch finale

enters the nether within 2 minutes

building a hole to the void to trap the hunter in

sam punching him into his own trap while invis

THE SOUNDBOARDS

the hunters covering the last crystal in obsidian

bad having god-like reflexes, placing obsidian, an end crystal, and exploding it all in like one second

5v1 grand finale

stealing sapnap’s bucket as it falls

trapping the hunters in an ocean monument

bow boosting

throwing a pearl, bone-mealing saplings, and landing on the fully grown tree

building another flying machine

sapnap stopping him by breaking a slime block and sacrificing himself

basically this whole end, dude

dropping tnt and instantly killing four of the hunters, slime clutching and bouncing down to george

fishing his pearls and surviving (perfect throwback to 2v1)

hope you find this helpful if you are like me and can never remember which video the clutch you wanna watch is in

#one of the only good things to come out of me binging the whole series #idk if someone's already done this but whatever #im my own target audience #also its possible i've somehow missed one i was taking notes during watching so i couldve somehow just Not seen one #dreamblr #dtblr #dwt #dwtblr #dreamwastaken #minecraft manhunt #minecraft #gnf #sapnap #bbh #awesamedude #antfrost #georgenotfound #badboyhalo #munchymc #muffinteers #manhunt crew #rewatching era #dt #dteam #dream team #mine

[thatsdemko]

I think he knows - g.russell

masterlist

t-swift inspired works list

requested: n

pairings: George russell x Wolff!fem!reader

warnings: none???

a/n: I’m so sorry the plot is hella slow 🥲 I also really don’t love this fic. feedback is always appreciated x

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands

he may not have picked it up at first, but it didn’t take him long to notice your eyes lingered on him longer than most.

that when he walked into the garage your whole mood changed, despite how hard you tried to make it not obvious, he knew. or at least, he began to know.

you spend a lot of time together, whether it’s around the paddock, in the hospitality, or at your fathers summer house— which is where you are now.

he’s sipping on a beer, standing next to Toto at the grill, two of them chatting about upcoming races and whatever seems to entertain them. jack bolts in front of you, heading out the back door where he spotted George, “Georgie porgie!” he screams, arms locking around his thin legs.

“who taught you that nickname?” he looks up from the little boy at you shrugging, little blush warming your face.

“you should’ve known to never trust me when you told me that.” you smile softly, your fingers nervously playing with the ends of your hair as you stand with the two listening in on their conversation.

Toto is talking about an important FIA event that the Mercedes team will have to attend, it’s not in anyone’s interests to go, but it’s mandatory and your father marked George for him and a plus one. neither of you know that he did this on purpose. because you see, Toto is like everyone else, tired of seeing his own daughter so madly in love with a boy who’s so oblivious. so yes, he’s willing to push you both towards each other if neither of you will do it yourselves.

“and I’ve got you marked for a plus one.”

you watch George’s eyes widen, they dart between him and susie, who just stepped out onto the porch with a drink for you, “a plus one? when did I ever indicate I had someone?”

Susie’s hand rests against your arm, “well why don’t you just take y/n? that way I can be Toto’s plus one and won’t have to fight for the seat.” she smiles brightly between the two of you, it’s too rehearsed. you notice something was up with their behavior, but George doesn’t.

“that seat can be yours, I’ll just stay home and watch jack.” you look down at the little boy, he’s on the patio wood panel playing with his trucks and formula one cars beside George’s feet.

Toto turns from the grill, shaking his head, “George has an extra seat just go with him.” he pats his driver on the back, and when you go to lock eyes, you notice his have already been on you. it makes your heart nearly skip a beat, how long had he been looking?

“George has to ask me, not have you two do it for him.”

—

all dinner he steals quick glances at you. each time he does, he watches your eyes break from his when he looks up at you. he’s definitely beginning to figure there’s something worth looking at whether it’s behind him or beside him, but it’s when your two drinks in and your eyes stay longer he figures, it’s him.

it’s him you’re looking at the whole time. it’s him you’re fixating on, not begging for him to look your way, just taking in every beautiful feature of his face. like the crease in his smile, the way he laughs, and the way his eyes light up around jack. you pick it all up, you want that of a man. you think there’s no one more perfect than him.

the meals are cleaned off everyone’s plates. Susie and Toto are inside cleaning, leaving you and george to build a fire while jack plays on his swing set.

he brushes past you, heading for the pile of newspapers and throws them at the bottom of the pit, while you stack wood the way your father taught you.

“it’ll be a nice fire?” he looks over at you, watching you struggle with the lighter. he reaches over and presses the button, watching a flame nearly take the ends of your hair. he’s quick to pull your hair behind your shoulders, two of you nervously laughing about the flame.

finally lighting the fire you take a seat next to George, two of you watching the orange and red flames dance around the pit, feeling the breeze of the air pick up.

“I’m going to go grab a sweatshirt, can you watch jack?”

“here just take mine.” he doesn’t give you time to reply, he’s pulling the neckline of the crewneck, it brushes over his dirty blond hair. you watch his t-shirt underneath rise up a little showing off his abs, that he loves to show off all the time, and soon enough the soft material is placed in your lap.

“all yours.” he smiles watching your eyes flicker up from his black t-shirt up to meet his greenish blue ones, you can’t help but lean a little closer when you thank him.

it’s now his turn to watch you throw on his sweatshirt, watching the way you rise a bit out of the chair to throw on the soft cotton material. the way it messes your perfectly curled hair, and how you wrap the material closer against your body, “thanks, Georgie.”

he reaches over, combing some of the strains of your hair out of your face, he feels his own smile pull wider seeing how dilated your pupils were, it’s so obvious. you really do like him, “what do you say, you want to be my plus one?”

“I would love to.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

He got my heartbeat

Skipping down 16th Avenue

Got that, oh! I mean

Wanna see what's under that attitude

Like, I want you, bless my soul

And I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

#george russell #george russell x you #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell fic #george russell fluff #george russell x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 driver x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 driver x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 fluff #f1 fiction #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you

[braxlrose]

I miss ur writings sm :(

I am so sorry that I've been gone for so long, I haven't posted any fan fiction in so many months and honestly I lost motivation 😭 so many ppl who were in this fandom and I created a community with, were slowly getting over this "phase" and it definitely affected me. But I'm going to try and get back into writing. I hope this will do good for now! Ive had a lot of ppl recently ask for 2005 bill hcs, and I've done that before so if this is repetitive for something else I've written, sorry!

content warnings: none

a/n: I'll be updating my tag list since it hasn't been updated since like August of last year and I don't want to be tagging people who don't care or want to see these posts anymore. So if you wanna be tagged, let me know!

2005!bill kaulitz x f!reader

sfw:

- I'm an alternative person so whenever I write for bill, I always imagine him with an alternative girl 😞 even though from what I've seen he's never really been w/ an alternative one, BUT LETS PRETEND OKAY 🙏🙏

• he absolutely loves doing hair together, I think he enjoys helping you do your hair in the morning and your make up. And he's even more greatful if you do his makeup. Then he can just relax while you help him.

• pookie has crunchy ass hair at the end of the day when he has to wash it out, don't make fun of him 😞

• getting piercings together is something he LOVES doing with you. Mainly early piercings because he only has a tongue and eyebrow piercing on his face.

• if you made music too, he would always go to your concerts and basically scream the entire time. Hopefully, you'd do the same for him.

• if you have longer nails, head scratches are always a must and he will lay in your lap for literal hours while you pamper him.

- I personally think he would love to learn words in your language if you keep something different than German. And despite what anybody thinks, he finds it hilarious to learn the dirty words.

• if you cook him something from your culture, he will literally die. He basically thinks everything about you is so cool, and learning about a culture different from his is so exciting

• but if you two really want to date, you'll have to both try to learn English or each other language because there is going to be a hard language barrier between you two.

- I think one of the reasons he would've fallen in love with you is because you were upfront with him. He's not the type of guy to just go up and kiss someone so if you confess first, that would make things so much easier.

- obviously, you'd have to get along with Tom, Georg and Gustav. So if you don't, there's no way he'll go out with you, especially if you can't get along or hate Tom.

-Dates together consist of stuff you guys bought somewhere, or if you guys went to a fastfood restaurant.

• He doesn't have a lot of money yet so dates wouldn't exactly be high class, hopefully you don't mind 😉

-Since this is around the time Tokio Hotel is getting increasingly famous, there are fangirls around trying to flirt and ask out bill all the time and he has to shoo them off. He reminds you every night about how much he loves you and that those fan girls shouldn't bother you.

-he likes to spoon you a lot, and you two switch back n forth between him being the big spoon and the small spoon.

• I think he also really likes it when you lay on top of him, with your face in his neck and your legs wrapped around him. (This also works sitting upwards).

• cuddling with him is so nice too because he actually smells really good 😱

- I think he still gets very insecure sometimes because of the haters and people who harass the band because they don't like them and you reassure him a lot.

a/n pt 2: sorry this wasn't too long! I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing so if this is terrible I'm sorry 😞

taglist: none right now

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x yn #tokio hotel fanfics #i hope this wasnt completely terrible #i havent written in forever 😞

[bella-rose29]

Anthony Lockwood x reader master list

Key:

❤️ - happy/fluff

💙 - sad/angst

💛 - platonic ship

💚 - gn!reader

💜 - author's favourite

Late Night, 2.8k words

lockwood x fem!reader Y/n just wants Anthony Lockwood to go to sleep for once; he's starting to look more like a raccoon than a human being. ❤️

Little Kipps miniseries, 5.4k words

part one, part two, part three lockwood x fem!kipps!reader Lockwood had no idea just how lovely somebody related to Quill Kipps could be. ❤️

Idiot, 9.4k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): Y/n L/n and Anthony Lockwood were childhood best friends, up until the point she walked out on him after an argument. A few years later, and many cases of Y/n and her Fittes team saving Lockwood and co's asses, can they figure out their differences? ❤️

Puppy, 3.5k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): Anthony Lockwood has a girlfriend, but nobody else knows that. Convenient for him when, on a night out after a difficult case, Kipps bets money that Lockwood can't get a kiss out of the pretty bartender who just so happens to be the aforementioned girlfriend. Unfortunately, Lockwood is quite drunk. ❤️💜

Relic (wo)man, 2.7k words

lockwood x fem!relic hunter!reader (requested by @superpositvecloudshipper): what about a relic hunter fem reader x Anthony lockwood where reader fights lockwood over an important relic in doing so he pulls off her hood revealing she's a girl which shocks him she runs off leaving relic with him, few days later she turns up at his door very much injured and he immediately helps her then asks why she came and she tells him she has nowhere else to go (all her family is dead expect her dad who is like the most dangerous relic hunter) ❤️

Hopeless Romantics, 1.7k words

lockwood x fem!reader Lockwood and the reader's relationship through various hopelessly romantic dates ❤️

You Shall Go to the Ball!, 9.8k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): Hey, I don't know if you accept requests, but I have one. Reader(she is George's sister) accompanies Lockwood&co to the ball at Fittes and she is jealous when she sees Lockwood talking to the girl (maybe reader enemy or something)most of the time. She decides to interrupt the conversation and introduces herself as his wife, while showing the ring Lucy gave her, explaining what to do. A long chapter please😊 ❤️ and a tiny bit of 💙

Pretty, 3.4k words

lockwood x gn!reader (requested by anon): Saw your post about Lockwood ideas so here's one! Reader and Lockwood have an extremely close call on a case and in the heat of the moment, Lockwood ends up kissing the reader. ❤️💚

‘tis the damn season, 10.4k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): can I request a Lockwood x fem reader based on tis the damn season by Taylor swift? Absolutely no happy ending to this one 💙💙💙 and a tiny bit of ❤️, 💜

Bite Me - Vampire au (ongoing series, will be updated when Deck the Halls is complete)

THIS IS GOING TO BE AN 18+ FIC Vampire!Lockwood x fem!vampire!reader link is for the series master list, but currently there is only the prologue up there <3

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) series (completed), 54.3k words

lockwood x fem!reader When a phone call with Y/n's mother goes wrong, she ends up needing to bring someone home to pretend to be her boyfriend for three days in the English countryside. With only a short amount of time before she needs to leave, her only option is her boss Anthony Lockwood. The only problem is, she hates her boss. And he hates her. Christmas will be interesting this year, especially when a snowstorm hits and blocks all transport. ❤️ and a little bit of 💙 later on (but mostly just ❤️), 💜💜💜

Reverse damsel in distress situation (head canons)

prince!lockwood x fem!knight!reader ❤️ part 2 - gn!knight!reader ❤️💚

You can what?!, 2k words

lockwood x cousin!reader, locklyle (requested by anon): Hey! If you’re still taking requests, can I request platonic Lockwood x reader (cousin) who finds out reader can communicate with like, weaker ghosts 💛💚 

Happy New Year, 1.7k words

lockwood x fem!reader I just felt like writing this, but reader and lockwood and co spend New Years together (and a kiss) ❤️

beautiful people, 2.1k words

lockwood x gn!reader requested by anon: hi hi! Can I request Anthony Lockwood x reader fic inspired by the song beautiful people by ed Sheeran? ❤️💚

The Greatest Thing, 4.2k words

lockwood x fem!reader requested by anon: Hi, I love the way you write! I was wondering (if requests are still open) if you could write a Lockwood x reader where reader's mother died when she was little for some reason, and by taking on a case reader and Lockwood find themselves having to fight the ghost of reader's mother ? And maybe even Lockwood calming Reader down after the mission? Feel free to change parts. (btw: sorry if English is terrible, I'm Italian, English is not my native language) ❤️ and a little bit of 💙

paper rings, 10.2k words

lockwood x fem!reader based on the Taylor Swift song, featuring a lot of innuendos and mildly explicit content, but pretty much just pure fluff ❤️ and nothing else really, 💜

college au

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader

[albonious]

hiii hope u dont mind me asking, but could u recommend ur favorite galex long fics out there? also!! ur fic u have pinned i read it before we even were mutuals and it's SO GOOD one of my favs!!

ahh thank you so much, i'm glad you liked it!!

i don't know what you consider a longfic but since there are barely any 50k+ galex-centered fics i will list my favourites that are 20k+ lol

all green lights by venerat (22k) f1 driver george texts the wrong number after a hookup and he and non-famous alex start texting, and then they accidentally meet in a club.

it's you i fell into by glitterbb (@yesterdayiwrote) (22k) george and alex go on married at first sight and get married to each other.

nothing but teeth by crescenteluce (@janinaduszejko) (25k) george finds out alex has hooked up with guys and becomes obsessed with it, so they end up hooking up as well and not talking about their feelings (but what else is new).

you and me till the end of time by alltimecharlo (28k) george has a four-year-old daughter and alex is her preschool teacher, and actually, his daughter's preschool teacher is really cute, george thinks.

wait 'till the world is mine by lewisshamilton (@georgerussells) (30k) this is a classic. george finds out he's the crown prince of the uk and alex is with him through all his struggles.

who's that guy? by ohmygaslys (singsweetmelodies) (@singsweetmelodies) and welightitup (@welightitup) (31k) a new girl au! if you (like me) have never seen new girl, yuki, pierre and alex live together and after max and daniel moved out, they needed two new roommates, who end up being (surprise surprise) george and charles, who also happen to be alex' and pierre's exes. george and charles think pierre and alex are dating, pierre and alex think george and charles are dating and yuki is just so. incredibly. done with them all.

what do i know? show me the right way to go. by tiredtiredsharl (34k) musician alex and actor george used to date, but broke up and became strangers. years later, they reconnect because the band alex is in is writing the theme for the james bond movie george will be playing in.

champagne gold by lewisshamilton (@georgerussells) (34k) alex, son of the uk's prime minister, and george, crown prince of the uk, fall in love. it's as simple as that. (loosely inspired by rw&rb).

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by prettyrotten (@prettydangrotten) (40k) loads and loads of miscommunication, they both can't talk about their thoughts for shit and it's so awkward but it's so damn rewarding when they finally get their shit together and talk.

confide in me by glitterbb (@yesterdayiwrote) (45k) alex, writing for a right-wing tabloid, meets george, son of the labour party leader, at a labour party event and against all odds, they fall in love.

if you know some more good galex fics, please send them to me, i am desperate for some more content of them!

#all of these are so good i'm so obsessed with all of them #myr answers #f1 #f1 rpf #galex #f1 fic rec #fic rec #george russell #alex albon

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: Just over 1k

A/N:

This story takes place in a AU where Harry's parents are still alive so Remus Lupin still has all his friends and there is no war however that doesn't make him any less angsty. Everything else is pretty much the same as the canon universe! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST  | SERIES MASTER LIST | Part 1, Next Chapter

The wizarding world and the muggle world have always felt like two completely different worlds, maybe that's why Witches and Wizards who are muggle-born become outcasts. It's hard adjusting to a school but adjusting to a whole world at 11 is even harder. Even in your last year of Hogwarts you still didn't feel like you belonged, each summer going back to the muggle life that you have always known, working a summer job at a coffee shop and hanging out with muggles rather than wizards. You had friends in Hogwarts of course, some closer than others and even though it helped you feel more at home you knew that after Hogwarts you'd end up working a muggle job.

Maybe that's why entering your last year at Hogwarts didn't seem as intimidating because at the end of the day it didn't really matter what results you got in your N.E.W.T.S. Still in its own way you knew you'll miss the castle and the life you've lived in it. So your final train ride to Hogwarts felt a bit bittersweet. One thing didn't change, once again a new Defence against the dark arts teacher got introduced, this time one called Remus Lupin. He looked a lot kinder and nicer than the last one.

Your first week went by extremely quickly, quidditch practice hadn't started yet so you had more time to just hang out with your friends. All your lessons were easy so far as everyone was settling to being back. The new profesor was quickly becoming everyone's favourite due to his friendly nature, he seemed to befriend every student something no other profesor really did. You didn't really get to interact with him too much one-to-one during lessons as whenever he had free time the girls with a crush on him would jump onto the opportunity. You didn't really care about DADA as you wouldn't need it in the muggle world but you did understand why everyone was developing a crush, you had your own brewing for him.

It didn't take long for you to get home sick, homesick for the muggle world. Nothing really felt right to you, not even the food it just never tasted as good as what your mother would make, you missed your parents terribly it was a lot harder sending them owls than sending owls to wizard families, they didn't really grasp the concept. The twins could see that you were getting down again, they knew this happened every year after summer, and they've always tried to help lift your spirit. "Y/N we were thinking it was a good time to plan the first prank of the year what do you say?" Fred said. "Y/N is in her last year, she can't be participating in your silly games." Percy answered for you. "Who invited him?" George snapped back.

"Percy might be right I can't get in as much trouble as I did last year I don't want to get suspended, I'm on thin ice with old Minnie after the last prank we pulled before summer." You admitted, maybe you didn't care about your exam results but you didn't want to get suspended. The debate continued and you ended up agreeing to planning a prank that you may or may not help with. After dinner you decided to take a quick detour to the covered bridge, at the end of your fifth year you discovered it was empty in the evenings as it didn't lead to anywhere people would go at that time of night, it instantly became somewhere you would go for peace, and once you discovered smoking, it also got added to the list of secret smoking spots.

When you approached the middle of the bridge you saw a figure standing smoking a cigarette, you felt a bit gutted someone was using your spot but also excited at the idea of someone being so alike you. You approached them and they quickly put out the cigarette. "Don't worry man, I'm not a teacher I won't snitch." You claimed as you walked up to them before you could make out who it was.

"I know but I am." The figure replied, you were now close enough to make out that it was Professor Lupin. He was no longer leaning over the edge but standing straight with his hands in his pockets.

"I won't snitch if you won't?" You said pulling out your own packet of cigarettes. And his face turned to a gentle smile.

"I really shouldn't-" He protested. "Oh come on, you're new. This is normal." You preached. "Yeah Minerva and I do this all the time but don't tell her I told you." This got a laugh out of him.

"I may have believed you up until that point Y/N. But that's where you've lost me." He remembered your name and for some reason it made your heart skip for a second, he had so many students that he's met in one week and he still managed to memorise yours.

"Come on I'll give you a smoke if you don't tell anyone?" You reached out the pack to him "Camels?" He questioned while taking one. "You know them?" You took one out the packed for yourself before putting it away. "They're muggle smokes." He stated nonchalant, there wasn't any hate in those words which was rare around these halls. "I like them." You pulled out a lighter to light your cigarette while he snapped his fingers and it was instantly lit. "How did you do that? You instantly snapped back . "Do what?" He smiled while holding the cigarette in his mouth, he was attractive in the moon light. "Light it with a snap." You replicated his previous action. "It's a simple arson spell, just a small flame. I used wand less magic." He explained "If it's wand less why did you snap your fingers? Surely you could've just done it." You pressed. "Yes. You've got me there." He admitted. "So you were just trying to impress me?" Slipped out before you realised how those words could sound flirty, you barely knew the man. Truthfully if he wasn't your profesor and this was an interaction with a student you would be developing a stupid crush on them.

"You could say that." He said, with half a smile on his lips. "I'm the new profesor who you've just caught spending the evening by himself smoking, I don't want you to tell everyone I'm boring now I seem impressive."

"Or insecure." You shot back and he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief at your words. He decided not to reply, instead went back to leaning over the bridge looking out into the darkness and smoking his cigarette and silence fell upon you both.

"I like the camel ones, just because the camel is cute." You broke the silence after a while, you felt bad for calling him insecure and wanted to kill the awkwardness. He laughed at your comment. "You know smokings bad for you? Even if the camel is cute." He said flicking the butt of his cigarette into the darkness. "I know." You quietly replied.

He checked his watch before standing up straight"Curfew has already started so don't stay out here too long as Snape is the one on duty today." He began to walk away. "Professor-" He turned around at your words. "This didn't happen right?" You questioned nervously. "What are camels?" He replied with a wink. "Have a good evening Y/N."

"You too Professor."

NEXT CHAPTER

#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes

[chelemlem]

For the prompts: 5 times Oscar takes care of Lando and 1 time Lando takes care of him Back!

ty anon! hope u don't mind that i combined 2 prompts + made it LOVE ISLAND AU ↓ (why is this 1k)

"Watch your step," their driver says sharply, half a second before Lando's loafers slip on a particularly wet patch of earth climbing out the car.

"Cheers, mate," Lando says, heart thundering. Jesus. Fine way to start off his reality T.V career. Week one and out of the running 'cause he split his head open on some fucking rocks. 

Lando extracts his fingers from around the guy's bicep. Huh, not bad. He wasn’t trying to cop a feel, but.

"Anytime."

And he’s back to squinting at something on his digital notebook. Pale and rumpled, he looks out of place in the Majorca sunshine. There's a subtle furrow between his brows, like he’s got a long list of tasks to get through, and Lando’s just the first.

"That was close," George fusses, strategically sliding an arm around Lando's shoulder in a way that both highlights their height difference and show off his delts. One of those posh Cotswold types; harmless enough. Lando'd picked him for his first date because at the end of the day, they wanted the same thing—to win.

"Yeah, scary," Lando blinks up at him. Giggles for the cameras.

 

Lando's going to quit. 

Or like. Sue someone. He stares down at his pre-packaged meal, stomach turning. This was the one thing, the one thing he listed as part of his dietary restrictions, and still—

A shadow falls across his lap.

"Here," the PA from before says. Brown hair, thighs. Oscar?

Lando eyes the unmarked takeaway box hovering in front of him with suspicion. It smells okay. And anything's better than fish.

"Chicken rice," Oscar clarifies, handing him a spoon to match. "Thai okay?"

Oh. Lando gives him a smile, small but genuine. So someone did read the profile they made him write. Who would've thought?

Oscar clears his throat. "If you need anything else, just—I'll be over there."

He hightails it to where Luisa and the other girls are holding court around the firepit, sliding his headset back on as he goes. Nice arse too. 

Crew aren't allowed to speak to the islanders, if Max’s rudimentary Reddit trawl is to be believed, but whatever. Lando's not one for rules anyway.

He tucks into his chicken rice and tries to think of other things he needs. 

"There's a new bombshell arriving today," Oscar casually lets slip at mic-up. Quietly, under his breath.

The fuck? It's only been forty-eight hours since Nyck got here. Or maybe longer—who the fuck knows with the way time passes in the villa. There's nothing to do but tan and flirt, the sun setting on the same listless, lazy day forever. Forever. 

But more importantly—

"They hotter than me?"

Oscar's face does this put-upon little thing before sliding back to neutral. Instead of responding, he winds the mic pack around Lando's waist, bending down to secure it at his hips. 

Lando knows how to do it himself by now. Oscar knows Lando knows.

"By a fair bit, I reckon," he says finally, and escapes before Lando can call him a liar. 

"Also, you've got a terrible poker face. At least pretend to be touched when he surprises you with breakfast." 

"He made me eggs and toast, mate. Not exactly Michelin-star, is it?" Or chicken rice, for that matter.

Oscar sighs. "Next week's vote's going to the public. Just so you know."

Lando's not worried. He's survived this long—longer than Daniel, even, who won fan favourite, week two—so clearly there's something he's doing right.

He sort of wants out, anyway. He misses his phone. God, he misses sex. Everyone talks a big game, but when it actually comes down to it they're fucking, like, shy about doing it in front of the cameras. And the cameras are bleeding everywhere. Lando would know.

The only reprieve, or something like it, is—Oscar. 

He's not exactly forthcoming with chatter, but through the power of being cute and annoying, Lando learns a lot about him anyway. 

Like how he's a fan of the cricket. And he's got three sisters, none of whom give a fuck about the show. And how apparently being a former cub scout makes him some kind of authority on tying people up. 

"Just saying those knots seemed loose, is all." 

Lando feels a smirk coming on. "Watching, were you?" 

Oscar rolls his eyes. "I review the Hideaway footage to make sure it's fit for broadcast, yes."

"Kinky."

"Good job. Really defended my honour there." 

"Fuck off," Oscar says, surprisingly calm for someone with bruises trawling the side of their face.

"Dunno why you thought you could take him. He's got like two stone and six centimetres on you. And Charles heard he's done amateur boxing—"

"Got one decent one in there, at least?"

"Element of surprise, s'all it was."

Lando gives up with the bandages. He has no idea what he's doing—and his hands are shaking too much to be of any real use. Best leave it to medical.

"Oscar," he says, rubbing his eyes. His thumb comes away damp. Christ, this better not end up on telly. "The fuck were you thinking, mate." 

Oscar exhales long and hard. His voice is softer when he says: "Sorry. Wasn't really… thinking."

Lando punches his arm lightly—the good one.

"Next time, just. Ask me out normally, alright?"

"They're not firing me," Oscar's voice sounds stunned through the phone, coloured with relief. It's the most emotion Lando's ever heard out of him. Well, second most. "Did you—?"

"My agent said me and Carlos can call it quits two months after the finale," Lando interrupts. It's important, after all.

There's quiet over the line. He can hear Oscar breathing. In out, in out. 

"And what did you say?"

Lando leans forward, against the dash of his borrowed McLaren. The one he's being paid to drive around in, posting selfies with wine and roses in the passenger's. 

Runner's up is first loser and all that, but. It's still a pretty good deal.

"Told her I'll do two weeks." 

#landoscar #ch. fic #love island finalist and tech heir lando norris spotted getting HOT AND HEAVY with SOME GUY #who is this MYSTERY MAN. he is SO UNREMARKABLE #op81 #ln4

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Busy Confession

[Mean Girls 2004] Janis Ian x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.81k

Proofread: No

Content Warnings: Language, anxiety, and feelings of rejection

[A/N]: Story three for Janis--I'll be working on another character soon. I still have a couple of characters I want to write for, but then I'll upload the master list I'm currently making and start answering requests.

[A/N] #2: Sorry this one took longer than the others. I've been trying to post every Saturday, but I could not for the life of me figure out how to write this one. I haven't proofread this yet, so let me know if there are any mistakes.

Enjoy!

 “Oh come on, turn red already!” Janis hollered, her voice raising towards the end as her nails dug into the material of her steering wheel. Her hands had begun to cramp in the past few minutes, and she knew it was from her white knuckled grip that she had on the wheel during the entirety of her drive, but each time she tried to loosen said grip to help her tense, aching muscles relax, they’d return to their firm grasp at the mere thought of the text she had received.

Logistically speaking, Janis knew [Y/N] wasn’t trying to come across as flirty or teasing. In the emotional part of her mind, however, she wondered if it was actually the opposite–if the girl she had been crushing on for years was finally picking up on it and was now taunting her with semi-flirty responses. Usually, when her emotions would spiral out of control the way they were in the moment, she’d head to [Y/N]’s house to rant about it and ask for any kind of advice. Since that was who was causing what she was feeling, however, she knew she had to resort to her other best friend: Damian. Too jittery from her gay panic, Janis only managed to call him long enough to let him know she was headed over.

He had tried to say something to her before she hung up, but she was in too much of a rush to get in the car that she didn’t comprehend a word he said. She hopped into her car after barely remembering to snag her keys from the hook by the door, scolded herself when she struggled to get the key into the ignition, then sped off out of her driveway toward the direction of Damian’s house.

On the way there, she continued to glance anxiously over at her phone, which she had tossed over into the passenger seat. She feared that [Y/N] would notice her going silent and say something, but she herself couldn’t think of anything to say. With anyone else, she could blurt out a clever retort or crack some kind of joke. With this girl, however, she always seemed to find herself falling silent. The last thing she wanted to do was say something weird or make the situation worse and lose [Y/N]. She was aware that wasn’t how it would happen. After all, she had known [Y/N] far longer than she had known Damian, and even knew her before Regina George changed the course of her life back in middle school.

But that was exactly why she was suddenly so cautious over her words around her. She didn’t want to ruin all of those years together and lose the one person who genuinely seemed to love her for who she is. As far back as she could remember, [Y/N] was the one person she could always rely on without the constant worry of being talked about behind her back. She didn’t want to ruin that by assuming [Y/N] felt the same way about her that she did.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, Janis finally made it to Damian’s house. There, she practically fell out of her car with her phone tugged tightly against her chest. Quick footsteps beneath her was all she could hear as she more or less ran to the front door. Subconsciously, her arm raised far enough for the side of her fist to pound against the thick wood of the door now in front of her. Almost immediately after, it swung open, revealing Damian standing there with a conflicted look. Before he could say anything, however, Janis pushed her way past him and dashed into the kitchen. She froze in the doorway upon seeing Cady standing there as well, visibly confused at her desperation.

“Janis? What’s going on?” Speechless for a moment, Janis could only stare at her. At length, Damian stepped in and cleared his throat, moving to stand beside Cady. “Yeah,” he started, “I was trying to tell you that she’s here, but I guess you weren’t listening. Which, I mean, your face right now kinda confirms that for me.” Finally, the goth managed to blurt out a small, “oh,” before glancing at her feet to avoid eye contact with the redhead still glancing at her in puzzlement. “Am I interrupting something?”

A heavy sigh slipped past Damian’s lips as his hand shifted up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No, but I think I’m not the only one here that’s “too gay to function.” Not sure if she even heard me at all before she hung up.” Finally, a look of understanding crossed Cady’s features. “Oh,” she mumbled as she once again turned to gaze at Janis. Although she was still averting her eyes from Cady’s focus, Janis managed to sneer up at Damian at his words.

Now worried she was in the way, Cady slipped past the two having a one-sided staredown and made her way over to the front door. “Well, I was just about to head out anyway.” Janis glanced up at this, looking slightly relieved. “But, uh…I’ll give you a call about our plan later on, Damian.” The exhausted teen, at the mention of his name, looked over at Cady as well and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.”

With that, the redhead vanished through the door and began walking home. Only waiting a moment to make sure she was really gone, Janis quickly whipped her phone back up and powered it on, clicked over to her recent messages, and turned the phone for Damian to see. “Dude, I don’t know what to do. What the fuck do I even say after that? Do you think she knows how I feel about her? What if she does? I don’t want her to hate me for it. How would she react if she really did know? Would she–” Two hands landed heavily on her shoulders, halting her babbling and forcing her to look up and away from the screen.

“Janis, calm the hell down, holy shit.”

He huffed when she managed to settle a bit, then took the phone from her hand to read the screen properly. At the sight of the words [Y/N]’s had chosen, he chuckled and ran a hand down his face. “Good lord, I have no idea how you’re gonna survive if the two of you actually start dating.”

“That’s exactly why I came here, Damian: if I don’t ask her out soon, and if she starts talking like this all the time, I’m going to fucking die of embarrassment. Problem is, I have no idea how to ask her out without ruining everything. I need your help, man. Please.” Damian let out a laugh, crumbling whatever sense of confidence Janis may have had. “Oh my god, you and Cady are the bane of my existence today. How did I manage to not be busy the exact same day you both decided you needed relationship advice?” At his words, the goth tilted her head and hummed in confusion.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you over the phone: the reason Cady was here was because she was trying to figure out how to ask Aaron out on a date without Regina ripping her to shreds.” Janis’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh, shit. Seriously? Is that what the phone call she mentioned was about?” Damian only nodded in reply, crossing his arms as he suppressed another groan. A moment passed where they only stood there in silence, and Damian was internally grateful his parents were at work as Janis had an existential crisis in the middle of their kitchen.

Finally, a smirk replaced his bothered grimace. “So, she wants to kiss you, huh? Wanna do that with her?” He teased, leaning down to nudge her shoulder and gain her attention again. Janis scoffed and shoved his arm away. Her head turned and lowered in an attempt to hide the growing shade of red on her face, though she wasn’t able to bite back the small grin that painted her lips. “You know damn well I do,” she murmured almost silently.

Damian snickered, cupping his ear and leaning toward her in a mocking manner. “What was that? Speak up–you know I’m selectively deaf.” Janis sighed, forcing herself to speak in a louder tone. “I said you know damn well I want to kiss her.” Upon finishing her statement, she stormed over to the kitchen table and planted herself in one of the chairs, crossing her arms on the tabletop and burying her face in them with a drawn out groan.

As she struggled to gather her thoughts, Damian moved to sit next to her, cackling softly to himself at seeing how uncharacteristically distressed his best friend was over a girl. “But it’s not just kissing you wanna do, is it?” He questioned after a moment. Janis shot up from her slouched position and gestured wildly with her hands. “Of course that’s not it! You know it isn’t! But I just…” She glanced down again, her fingers tangling themselves into her fringe and tugging harshly at the strands as she wordlessly went to war with herself, unsure of what to actually say.

“I just don’t wanna mess everything up,” she all but whispered in a broken confession, returning to her previous position of hiding her face in her arms.

The sound of a chair squeaking followed by something landing softly on the table and being slid her direction made her glance up again. Damian had slid her phone back over to her, though now it was face-down and powered off. “I know. I know you love her–pretty sure everyone does at this point. You’re terrible at hiding it.” Janis jabbed him in the arm again, making him chuckle. Upon seeing how distressed the goth was, he sighed, his voice taking on a much softer tone.

“But I do know that she’s one of those people too, even if that’s not what you wanna hear. Trust me, she feels the same. I’ve got quite the eye for these kinds of things.” Defeated, Janis sighed. She leaned back against the chair, dropping her head back to glare up at the ceiling. “Even if that were true, how the hell would I confess without sounding like some sort of loser? I don’t want her to think I’m a creep or something.”

Her friend hummed in thought at this, his eyes seemingly scanning everything and nothing in front of him at once. “Well, why don’t you make it count then? Make it special–your confession, I mean. Just add a whole bunch of stuff she likes. I mean, she loves going to the movies, eating out at restaurants, playing random sports and board games…there’s all kinds of stuff you could do.”

Janis remained silent for a while, prompting Damian to question if he said something wrong, or if she had even heard anything he said. Finally, right as he parted his lips to ask if she was alright, Janis slowly looked up with a growing smile, almost as if realizing something. “That’s a good idea,” she murmured. “Uh,” Damian started in reply, glancing around nervously as she pocketed her phone and began to stand. “Which one?”

“All of them.”

Over the span of another two and a half weeks, Damian managed to help Janis set up a plan where she could finally confess her feelings to [Y/N] and ask her out. The day had come that they agreed to put it into motion. Janis had never felt so nervous before. Not when she had a class presentation, not during any of the art contests she had participated in, and not even when she came back to school after leaving for the final half of her eighth grade year. She knew how to handle those levels of anxiety, but not this.

Never before had she confessed to someone–let alone someone she could actually picture a future with. In the past, when she found herself developing some sort of crush on another girl in her class, it was short lived. She never had to deal with the feeling long, which is why her feelings for [Y/N] became very evident after reflecting for a while.

In the days leading up to her confession, Janis more often than not found herself sketching [Y/N] on everything. She wasn’t able to focus during classes, so she’d pretend she was taking notes or working on an assignment to hide her inattention from the teacher. Even when [Y/N] wasn’t there for her to see, Janis was still doodling her from memory on anything and everything available to her.

Her sketchbook had been filled to the brim with illustrations of the girl before, but the closer she got to the end of the book, the more the pages seemed to be occupied by her face. No matter what she tried–playing video games, watching movies, going to work after school–she couldn’t get [Y/N] out of her head. More than usual, anyway. Tucked away in the corner of her  room, hidden by a thin white sheet, she kept a canvas propped up on her favorite easel. Underneath the cover lay a portrait of [Y/N] she had spent weeks on, always finding another flaw that had her repainting over the dried, flaking pigment.

In her mind, Janis could picture the girl so easily. She could recall every little marking, whether it be a scar or a freckle of some kind, it was so vivid. On her canvas and on paper, however, she just couldn’t seem to get it right. She wanted the illustrations and paintings she made of her to be perfect because that’s how she saw her.

That’s how she had always seen her.

It felt nice thinking about someone she loved so much, but it also worsened her anxiety for her upcoming plans.

She waited until school had been let out for a holiday toward the end of the second semester to carry them out. It would allow for her to set up an outdoor date that would hopefully take place past the beginning of her and Damian’s ideas, as well as give her time off from both school and work.

After making sure [Y/N] was ready for the day, Janis let her know she was headed in her direction to pick her up. The entire drive there, everything about her was shaky, including her breathing. By the time she arrived, her mind was numb and her limbs were tingling. She barely managed to type out a coherent message to let the girl know she was there. Her breathing only got worse once [Y/N] was in the car with her, sat so close to Janis, yet so far away somehow. When she greeted her, her voice cracked and shook, furthering her embarrassment. [Y/N] giggled at her, so she looked down. “God, fuck my voice,” she mumbled.

Again, [Y/N] chuckled, but planted her hand gently on the goth’s shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. “Hey, I don’t know why you’re getting so flustered about it. Do you not remember when we first met back in elementary school? You know. When I was crying?” Janis sat up a little straighter and smirked. “Because another kid ate one of your dino nuggets during snack time? Yeah, I remember that. Squeakiest voice I’ve ever heard, even to this day.” [Y/N] faked a gasp and a look of offense, bringing her free hand to her chest in an exaggerated manner. “How dare you say that when Karen Smith exists in the same town as us?”

Finally, Janis snickered at her, turning back to the wheel and shifting her gear into drive. “Fair point,” she replied. She leaned over a bit. “You’re definitely the runner up, though.” A scoff and a playful shove was what she was greeted with in reply, prompting her to finally let out a proper laugh. Her smile visibly faltered for just a moment at the feeling of [Y/N]’s hand sliding off of her shoulder a moment later and moving back to rest in her lap in the passenger seat.

“So, what all are we doing today?” At this, Janis’s anxiety spiked once again. “Well, I thought we could go see a movie and then go eat somewhere before I show you the surprise I have for you.”

[Y/N] leaned over a bit, drawing out a long “oooh” with a dorky grin. “What’s the surprise?” Janis laughed and gently pushed her back, even though she didn’t want to. “If I told you the surprise, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Again, the girl in the passenger seat faked a look of hurt, though it was quickly replaced with a smirk. “Okay, okay, fine. Fair enough.”

As Janis began leading the car in the direction of the nearest movie theater, [Y/N] slipped her phone out from her back pocket and began typing away and swiping through her apps. Unintentionally, Janis continued to glance over at her and her screen periodically, some unknown feeling bubbling up underneath her skin and causing her throat to fall dry. Her hand slipped to the side to turn the AC’s settings up higher, then drove upwards to run down her face as she sighed. Whatever it was that she was feeling was making her burn up.

[Y/N]’s attention was drawn to Janis’s motions, her head perking up and turning in her direction. “You good?” The goth only nodded, desperately trying to scrounge up some sort of excuse as to why she was suddenly far more flustered than she previously was mere moments ago. “Yeah, I just…I’m really hoping you’ll like the surprise when we get to it. I worked really hard on it.” A small pause. “Oh.” Another pause, one that had Janis fighting the urge to scratch or pick at something with her fidgety hands.

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing, Jan. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

With a bit of force, Janis managed to convince her lungs to work properly again. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to hide her struggle in the motion, and let it slip back out in the form of a heavy sigh. “Yeah, okay,” she replied softly. Thankfully, before things could grow even more awkward, Janis pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater. She switched the engine off and tucked her keys away in one of the pockets of her black, baggy cargo pants. “Well, I guess we should get inside if we wanna get through the long ass line for concessions,” she explained as she pushed her door open and slipped out of the car.

Without thinking too much about it, Janis sped over to the passenger side and tugged the door open for [Y/N], who glanced up at her with a confused stare. She quickly chuckled, however, and stepped out, moving over far enough for Janis to close the door again and lock the car. “Such a gentlewoman,” she teased, prompting the goth’s pale face to flush red again. She still laughed, even through her slight embarrassment, and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” came her reply, though it was accompanied by a small bump against her shoulder. She had turned to walk towards the entrance, but [Y/N] had almost immediately caught up with her and nudged her arm with her own. Janis grinned at her and double checked that her car was locked before they got too far. As she stuffed her hands into her front pockets, Janis found herself glancing around at the other people littering the street nearby.

She subconsciously let her teeth hook against her bottom lip as she spotted the couples walking in and out of the building, each one leaning against each other and sharing light conversation or cracking jokes. Her fingers bent upwards, allowing her to toy with her rings as she managed to tear her eyes away from a pair sharing a quick kiss and focus on the ground in front of her. For just a moment, her eyes glimpsed over at [Y/N], who was squinting to try and read the movie posters lined up on the wall still halfway across the parking lot.

Janis couldn’t bite back her small smirk at her focused expression, though she let her gaze drop back down to continue watching her feet leading her forward. Too caught up in her thoughts, Janis let out a startled gasp when she felt two arms wrap themselves around her left one. One hooked around her elbow, the other sliding down so a hand could rest on her forearm. She turned her head to face who had clutched onto her, her cheeks and ears bursting with color as [Y/N] stepped closer and beamed up at her. “A-Ah, you okay?” Was all she could manage to ask between stuttering breaths.

“Yeah, I just like your jackets. They’re cozy, even if I’m not the one wearing them. Like, this sleeve?” [Y/N] gently patted the section of Janis’s sleeve covering her bicep to clarify, making the other girl jump, “it’s soft. Not sure how. Looks really rough, but it’s not.” She giggled to herself for a second. “Kinda like you.”

A darker shade of crimson dusted Janis’s already reddened face. “What?” [Y/N] smirked at her reaction. “Well, I mean, a lot of people are scared of you–specifically the freshmen–but I’m pretty sure it’s just because of your style. You’re really good with comebacks too, and even when they’re mean, they’re still funny as fuck. I think people are just afraid to confront you because they know you’ll destroy them. But you’re actually the sweetest person I know. And you’re really cool. I don’t think you and I have ever really gotten into an actual argument, but I also think it’s because you make sure to listen to me and hear me out.

“Most of the time. Unless you’re trying to lecture me on my gaming skills.” Janis smiled at her last statement, though her heart hammered against her ribs for the small speech before. She thinks I’m sweet? And cool? Unintentionally, she tuned out the majority of what the conversation was about as they both headed inside, the wide, sheepish grin never leaving her lips.

They got their tickets checked, stepped into line, got their drinks and snacks, then headed to the room playing the movie they were there for. As they sat in their seats toward the back of the room, Janis finally felt her spiked nerves subsiding a bit, realizing they could both focus on the movie and avoid having to make awkward conversation.

She didn’t pay attention to most of the film. Although her anxiety had calmed, it was certainly still there. Each time she thought of what she had planned next, another wave of trembling shot through her body. Roughly halfway through, [Y/N] shivered, shifted in her seat, and grumbled something under her breath, gaining Janis’s attention. Sensing eyes now on her, [Y/N] made eye contact and sent a nervous smile in her direction. “Sorry, I just keep forgetting how cold this damned theater is.”

Janis hummed, and almost instantly, after putting her box of small chocolates down, she slid her jacket from her arms. She leaned over a bit, motioning for [Y/N] to lean forward. When she did, the goth dropped the jacket gently on her shoulders and pulled it around her a bit before moving to sit properly in her chair again. She fought the urge to glance back over at [Y/N], but from the corner of her eye, she could see the girl tug the jacket snug around her frame. She let out a gentle sigh at the warmth.

Janis cracked a smile without realizing. She picked her overpriced sweets back up and pulled another one from the box, popping it in her mouth before scooching over enough to take a sip from her soda. For the remainder of the movie, the two sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. When the film ended and the lights came on, they got up and wordlessly left the theater. Once they were in the car, Janis finally fully looked over at [Y/N], sucking in a breath at the sight of the jacket now fully on her.

Sometime during the ending, [Y/N] had ultimately slipped her arms into the sleeves to wear it properly. Janis beamed, feeling a strange sense of pride. “So,” [Y/N] chirped, snapping her out of her trance. “Which restaurant are we going to?”

Oh, right. Her plans.

Janis, to distract herself momentarily, turned her car on and began the journey to the restaurant she had made a reservation at prior to the movie. She checked the time before answering. “Ah, it’s that new Italian place down by the mall.” “Oh, cool! Have you heard if it’s good?” “Yeah, it’s got a lot of good reviews online. It was also honestly the only place I could find that the two of us haven’t both been to.” [Y/N] laughed gently. “Yeah, but who knew we’d end up being drawn to so many different places here?”

The time at the restaurant, much like the theater, was hard to pay attention to for Janis. Throughout the meal, even when she didn’t realize it, she could be caught practically staring at [Y/N] as they both ate their dishes. She managed to focus enough to answer any questions thrown her way and keep the conversation going, but had anyone asked what they talked about, she wouldn’t be able to answer.

By the time they had made it back to the car, [Y/N] was able to tell something was wrong. As soon as the car started and Janis pulled out onto the road to head toward her next plan, [Y/N] tapped her arm to get her attention. A hum slipped from the goth to show she had acknowledged the touch, though she kept her eyes on the road. “Are you alright? You’ve been really…quiet. Like, all day.”

Shit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still just really nervous about the whole surprise thing. Which…is where we’re going now.”

After she pulled up to an empty parking lot, Janis took a breath, practically freezing in her seat as [Y/N] slowly got out of the car. A moment or so later, at the sound of a knock on her window, the goth finally pulled her attention away from the steering wheel to find [Y/N] standing there, confused. Finally, she managed to pry herself out of the driver’s seat and close the door. She locked the car with trembling hands before wordlessly walking in a random direction. With a small squeak of surprise, [Y/N] jogged to catch up with her, immediately questioning where she was headed.

“Oh, right,” Janis muttered, glancing up at the now concerned girl for just a second. She turned around to face where she was walking again. “Sorry, I’m just…I’m leading you to where the surprise is, I just forgot to say that somehow.” “Oh.”

Too anxious, Janis couldn’t force herself to blurt anything out, too afraid of making small talk as they headed to where her source of anxiety was originating from. The entirety of the walk, [Y/N] trailed behind her and quickly told herself to just look around at the scenery. They had stopped at some kind of large park, though the part they were headed toward looked more like the entrance of the woods. The sight at the darker shade under the trees caused her nerves to spike, though she calmed down when Janis finally managed to mumble a really soft–almost inaudible–“we’re almost there.”

The closer they got to the wooded part of the field, the more concerned and puzzled [Y/N] grew. Finally, just as she was ready to ask if they were lost, or if Janis planned on killing her–which in her mind made sense, considering the goth had started acting weird in the past hour–Janis sighed and stepped to the side. She lifted and waved her arm, motioning toward a small setup partially in the shade. “We’re here.”

[Y/N] turned her focus to the setup, which made her gasp softly. It was a classic picnic scene: a red and white checkered blanket laid out neatly underneath a large oak tree, a small woven basket weighing one of the corners down, and a cooler for the drinks. However, a decently sized gift was wrapped up and was propped up against the bark. “Surprise,” Janis murmured, snapping [Y/N] out of her surprised trance.

“Oh, Janis,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.” Janis seemed surprised at her words, a small smile finally painting her lips again. “Really? I figured you’d find it cliche or something.” [Y/N] chuckled and gently nudged the goth’s shoulder. “I mean, you know I love a good cliche. It’s not a bad thing.”

After sharing an awkward grin, the two of them headed over to the blanket and sat down. They picked a few snacks from the basket on the corner, as well as a drink from the cooler, then ate slowly as they did their best to strike up a normal conversation. This worked for a very short amount of time, but [Y/N] eventually gave in and finally asked what it was all for, to which Janis grew nervous all over again.

She tried to find a way to segway smoothly into her confession, but eventually realized there was no point in trying to appear confident. She had blown that long ago. With a heavy sigh of defeat, she stared down at her lap, fiddling with the tab of her soda can to pull her attention away from the set of eyes on her. “Okay, I can’t keep this up anymore,” she began.

“I brought you here because I–” She swallowed hard and shut her eyes. It was just a confession. How hard could it possibly be?

“I brought you here, and did everything else today, to tell you that I really like you. Like, I’m in love with you. A-And I wanted to bring you here to ask you to be my girlfriend.” A moment passed where the two just sat in silence, and although she didn’t want to, Janis finally managed to open her eyes again to glance up at [Y/N]. She worried she had been completely ignored, but she mainly feared she was about to be made fun of by the one girl she actually had serious feelings for.

Instead, she was greeted with the sight of [Y/N] blushing for the first time that evening, a small smile cracked across her lips. “Uh,” the goth stuttered. “It’s fine if you say no. When I told Damian about wanting to ask you out, he said I should make the whole thing special, so…here we are.” More silence, though Janis couldn’t tell that it was only there because [Y/N] couldn’t find the right words to express how she felt. After what felt like a whole hour to her, Janis finally sighed and put her drink down, readying herself to stand up. “This was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

As she began to lift herself off the blanket beneath her, a hand grasped her wrist, halting her movements and prompting her to sit down again. “No, I’m sorry, Jan! It wasn’t a mistake, I just…I never thought you’d actually ask.”

Janis could only gawk at her, mouth agape. “Huh?”

[Y/N] giggled at her reaction. “I would love to be your girlfriend, Janis.”

More laughter stemmed from Janis sitting there, purely dumbfounded as she visibly tried to process the words. Finally, a bright smile graced her lips, one wider than ever before. An excited glimmer shone in her eyes. “Wait, really? You would?” “Yeah, of course!”

Janis finally let out a laugh, then a sigh as she shifted to fall over and let her head land in [Y/N]’s lap. “Oh thank fucking god,” she blurted, causing the girl to chuckle and gaze down at her in slight bewilderment. “I’m so tired. I spent so much time planning this whole thing out. I wanted things to be perfect. I didn’t know you were going to say yes like it was the most obvious thing on earth.” They shared a laugh, the previously thick tension finally lifting.

“Yeah, no, I was always gonna say yes. But don’t worry, I really loved everything we did today. Uh, well, except when you were leading me to the woods and started acting weird. Thought I was about to be wiped from this planet.” Janis snickered again. “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you.” She grinned softly up at her, shifting to lean against [Y/N]’s stomach. “But I am glad you liked everything today. That’s a relief.”

[Y/N] beamed wider and nodded. She drove her free hand upwards to let her fingers rake through the goth’s dark strands, causing her to let her eyes to flutter shut and lean into the touch. They stayed like that for a while, but [Y/N] eventually had a small reminder pop into her head. “Oh, what’s the box against the tree for by the way?”

Janis’s eyes shot open again, a deep crimson red dusting her cheeks. “Ah, well…” She hesitantly sat up and stood long enough to pick up the present and hand it to [Y/N]. She sat back down next to her and watched as she carefully peeled open the gift. Once it was mostly torn away, [Y/N] gasped gently at the sight of a canvas with a portrait of her, glazed over nicely with Janis’s signature down in the bottom left corner, right next to a small note.

To the one person who has always seen the best in me and has never treated me poorly. I hope this painting does you justice.

Silently waiting for a response, Janis kept glancing over between the portrait and [Y/N], trying to gauge her reaction. When she got nothing, the overly anxious girl cleared her throat. “Do you…like it?” Finally, [Y/N] turned to face her. “Are you kidding? I fucking love it,” was her reply. Janis huffed out a sigh of relief from the reassurance and smirked, leaning against the other girl’s shoulder and closing her eyes again. “Jesus Christ, another huge relief. I love you so much.”

Softly, [Y/N] nuzzled her head against Janis’s, slipping one hand from the partially unwrapped canvas to lift it and cup the girl’s cheek, her fingertips lightly grazing her raven hair.

“I love you too.”

#fluff #x reader #slight angst #female reader #janis ian #janis ian x reader #janis sarkisian #janis sarkisian x reader #mean girls #mean girls x reader #mean girls janis #janis mean girls #mean girls janis ian #mean girls janis sarkisian #janis ian mean girls #janis sarkisian mean girls

[reality-detective]

* * * Las Vegas Shooting * * *

Part 2

What else was going on during the LAS VEGAS SHOOTING that they didn’t want us to know about?

There were two things/motives going on with this FALSE FLAG…possibly more.

Let’s talk about the first one. 👇

Let’s take a look at this VERY IMPORTANT Q drop.

We have talked about many of these elements… pointed out by Q…in reference to the Las Vegas shooting.

The other elements will be discussed as we dig further.

☝️That Q drop (#92) was dropped on NOVEMBER 5th!!

In the movie “Back to The Future”…the professor and Marty proclaimed “TIME TRAVEL was discovered on NOVEMBER 5th!”

One backstory to this presentation… May 30th, 2022 presentation titled “Capitulation/Trump’s World Tour.” This becomes relevant to the Las Vegas Shooting!

the Patriot Act several times now, and how that act, which was signed by President George W. Bush after 9/11…gave our government, the NSA, and the intelligence agencies the ability to spy on us Americans.

When Trump came into office, he was able to use the Patriot Act in his favor.

He was able to connect all the dots with the cabal… who was connected to who…who was funding who, etc.

TRUMP “HAD IT ALL!”

Trump knew about the Saudis' role in the plot on 9/11, their massive amounts of funding to the Cabal (including to the Clintons and the DNC), and the child trafficking.

Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal, one of the biggest contributors to the Clintons and the DNC, not only owned the Four Seasons, but also was a large shareholder of Twitter, Apple, and Citigroup.

He was also not a fan of Donald Trump. They routinely got into it on twitter, such as the exchange below. 👇

After Trump’s visit to Saudi Arabia and his infamous sword dance ceremony in May, 2017, there was a power change in Saudi Arabia.

King Salman was now at the helm with his son Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman.

Bin Salman would go on to help Trump and the White Hats bring down Twitter, Google, and Facebook.

Those stories are also in the “Capitulation/Trump’s World Tour” presentations from May 30/31st, 2022.

The May 2017 meeting between Trump and King Salman (and his son Mohammad), was not just another meeting. It was a business meeting.

Trump was more than willing to help Saudi Arabia’s decline in oil profits due to the boom in fracking. He allowed them to be listed on the New York stock exchange.

In return, he got the Saudis to make significant changes, such as liberating women, the end of illegal funding, no more contributions to American politics, no more supplying funds to terrorists or splinter groups, and of course to put an end to the child trafficking.

If they didn’t take the deal Trump threatened to declass everything he had on them from the NSA. King Salman took the deal. All of a sudden, women were allowed to drive, ISIS was retreating, and Syrian rebels suddenly ran out of ammunition.

Although King Salman cooperated…not all the royalties in Saudi Arabia were happy…especially those who were losing the power they once had.

They also didn’t want to become liberal.

Many came to resent King Salman, and started to plot against him, his son Crown Prince bin Salman, and President Trump.

At the forefront of this anti Trump/anti King Salman movement was Ahlaweed bin Talal, and the previous Deputy Crown Prince, Muqrin, and his son, Mansour.

DONALD TRUMP and the Saudi Crown Prince MOHAMMED bin SALMAN were meeting secretly in Vegas to discuss the impeding arrest of the Saudi Prince's.

The Las Vegas Shooting was an Assassination Attempt against Donald Trump and The Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia…by Mossad, ISIS, The FBI, Australia, and possibly UK Spooks or intelligence operators.

DIVERSION

LAS VEGAS SHOOTING

The shooting out of Paddock’s window was supposed to be a diversion. There would have been a lot of gun shooting noises during the assasination attempt, so the attack on the crowd was to cover-up the gun fire that would have ensued.

The real shooting took place from black helicopters and men on the ground, with very little coming from Paddock’s room.

Remember the real story…Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and the attempt on his life.

Steven Paddock was a C*I*A pilot who smuggled guns and children for the Saudis. His role at the Las Vegas shooting was the diversion tactic for the hit teams.

Eventually Trump and his team got wind of the assassination plot against them.

Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman was secretly ushered out of the building, and rescued by a helicopter that came in and rescued him.

Trump and bin Salman’s security detail also created a diversion story saying that Bin Salman was over playing cards at the Tropicana Hotel.

There are pictures of bin Salman leaving the entrance to the Tropicana…but it turns out that was just a decoy and a ruse in order to get bin Salman out of the Mandalay Bay hotel, which they did successfully.

The black helicopters belonged to the Mossad (Israeli Intelligence)…who fired machine guns at the crowd and at Bin Salman’s rescue effort.

This is the reason they turned off their transponders, to cover-up their role in the shooting.

How did TRUMP know Bin Salman was going to get assassinated?

What if Q drop 92…which gave us all the Las Vegas shooting hints…was purposely dropped on November 5th, because…according to the movie “Back to The Future” November 5th was the day time travel was invented?

Was time travel involved in the Las Vegas shooting?

I have mentioned that Donald Trump could be a time traveler!

On October 5th, 2017…just four days after the Las Vegas shooting...Chief-of-staff John Kelly summoned:

the Joint Chiefs of Staff,

NSA boss Mike Rogers,

Pacific Commander-In-Chief Harry Harris,

and combatant commanders to the White House.

This was to bring all hands on deck to back Trump against the deep state, and the cabal.

Continued in Part 3

All links connected 👇

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think for yourselves #think about it #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #rabbit hole #deep dive #las vegas shooting

[sitp-recs]

Happy birthday to the one and only @writcraft! I know you probably feel this year hasn’t been as productive as you’d like fandom-wise, so this is both a reminder and a token of appreciation, a short rec list that hopes to highlight a little bit of your immense contribution to fandom. This is ofc 100% self-indulgent and my picks might be a bit too obvious - I doubt that anyone who’s been around for a while hasn’t heard of these classics before, but those who are new to the fandom (or just new to Writ’s works - I’m so jealous!) might enjoy this “starter pack” with my personal selection of must-reads.

There’s a little bit of everything: Drarry, Snarry, femslash, dark fic, kinky fic, angst with a happy ending, romcom, hurt/comfort. No matter the tone or trope, they’re not only perfectly thought out and executed but they also deliver profound human experiences that resonates within, and thought-provoking explorations of romance, queerness and hope. I have often wondered how Writ could be so prolific over the years, always impressing me with such flawless depth of characterization across different ships. Now I realize this comes from the amount of passion and research they pour into their work. Writ commits to fandom - and to writing - both intellectually and emotionally, bringing together their creative, fannish, militant and intellectual sides like nobody else can do. This combination breathes life and heart into every love story they create, making them all bright and unique, inspiring universal emotions while remaining deeply personal.

Writ, I cannot thank you enough for being such a kind, witty and welcoming friend, always up to discuss fandom meta, gritty fic plots, old and new ship obsessions, dog parenting, queer & pop culture references! I learn so much from you and it’s a privilege (and a delight) to have someone to share both silly and deep, insightful convos with. Becoming friends with you - an author I’ve been admiring and looking up to for so many years now - still feels a bit surreal but it’s easily one of the best parts of 2022/2023 for me. I hope you enjoy your day to the fullest, and have an amazing time celebrating with yours. Happy birthday my friend! 💜

🎵 True Colors (E, 6k) - Harry/Teddy

Teddy spent the last year running away from his feelings for Harry. Now it’s time to come home.

🧵 Independent Love Song (E, 6k) - Ginny/Millie

Millicent Bulstrode is a tailor and Ginny is losing her mind over a woman in a tweed blazer and burgundy brogues.

🪞 Doppelganger (M, 7k) - Drarry, Romione

It was just a silly dare, but one ill-advised trip into the Forbidden Forest changes Harry’s life forever.

🎼 Hopelessly Devoted To You (E, 10k) - Harry/George

Harry and George watch a lot of musicals and accidentally fall in love.

🗞️ Potterzine (E, 11k) - Snarry

When Severus Snape finds a fanzine with a picture of Professor Potter in a compromising position with Draco Malfoy on the cover, he confronts Potter about the offending literature.

🪩 An Aching Soul (M, 14k) - Drarry

Draco Malfoy escapes to the Muggle world to avoid his parents, memories of the war and Harry Potter. However, some things prove harder to escape than others as Draco realises when his favourite Muggle haunt is rudely invaded by a post-war Harry who is struggling to cope with grief, growing up and the battle with his inner demons.

⛓️ Dirty Little Secret (E, 22k) - Drarry

When someone threatens Harry’s life, Kingsley decides to send him to a safe house with only Draco Malfoy for company. As the two men are forced together, memories of the past resurface and secrets are discovered.

🥐 A Life Worth Remembering (E, 23k) - Drarry + Snape

Severus Snape wakes in St Mungo’s, to discover that a potions accident has wiped the last forty years from his body and mind. Just twenty-five years old, Severus is reliant on Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, now both in their forties, to help him fill in the missing decades.

🚘 Harry Potter and The Bisexual Awakening (E, 23k) - Drarry

Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

⌛️ Collapse Amongst the Dying Stars (M, 26k) - Drarry

After the final battle nothing is quite as Harry expected. Death Eaters remain unaccounted for, Malfoy is in prison and there is something rotten in Azkaban.

💋 The Beating of This Fragile Heart (E, 33k) - Snarry

After the war, the last thing Severus Snape needs is the memory of a fleeting wartime kiss and a very persistent Harry Potter thwarting his plans to live a peaceful and solitary life.

📸 Expecto Patronum (E, 35k) - Drarry

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

🗽How We Were Warriors (E, 51k) - Snarry

A homophobic attack in London’s Soho brings Harry to New York City to discover more about the past. Still haunted by love and loss in the eighties, Severus just wants to forget.

🥃 The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things (E, 63k) - Drarry

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

🏳️‍🌈 Little Compton Street verse (E, 150k) - Drarry, Sirius/James, Minerva/Will

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

#happy bday writ 🌈 #hp recs #Drarry #rare pairs