#true love is possible between me and this scarf

[milkcricket]

After a long month of serious knitting I am pleased to say that the next world mural scarf is complete

She is longer than I am and very very cozy

#disco elysium #harry du bois #good dam did my fingers hurt after finishing this #I lover hee though #true love is possible between me and this scarf

[tehloserprince]

Some folks asked me to post/share this here because they found it useful, so ...

I was a little surprised by the amount of people who thought Gabriel and Beelzebub literally met only three times before deciding they were in love and running off together. It's true that we see three pivotal moments in Gabriel's memories, and I think @neil-gaiman and co. showed the audience these specific moments for a reason, but the writing and visual cues in each of the scenes seemed to be done in a way that would emphasize the passage of time between meetings and the development of the relationship between Gabriel and Beelzebub to the audience.

First Meeting: I believe this one happened not too long after Armageddon failed to materialize. We're given an immediate visual cue from Gabriel, whose outfit is closer to what he wore in S1; he's wearing the same scarf and jacket that he wore throughout that season, and also when he met Beelzebub on the Tadfield airbase. Could be appropriate attire for the season, since we do see Gabriel wearing the coat again a bit later (sans scarf).

At their meeting, Gabriel is seated on the left and Beelzebub is on the right. Their meeting place seems to be somewhere in Russia (away from their home territories). The table is rather large, creating some distance between the two of them. Their body language is also a lot more guarded: legs and arms crossed at times, and they tend to lean away from each other more throughout the conversation. This meeting is short, but there are some sparks between the two of them: the gentle teasing ("well, you lost"/"so did you"), Beelzebub crossing their arms and trying not to smile at Gabriel's "Arma-bloody-geddon" moment, and the shared understanding over the burdens of being the respective Commanders-in-Chief of Heaven and Hell.

It ends with Gabriel leaving quickly after saying it's a pity they'll never speak again, but ...

Second Meeting: ... obviously, they do end up speaking again. When Gabriel enters this particular meeting, he's wearing an outfit closer to what we see him wearing in S2 prior to him losing his memory. Again, possibly a seasonal cue as well. At the beginning of the Second Meeting, Gabriel sits down across from Beelzebub and immediately proposes the idea of "no Armageddon." He would have no reason to do that unless there had been other meetings that deepened their initial connection and made him realize that hey, a victory for Heaven would mean NO Beelzebub, which would kind of suck because he's grown to enjoy their company and their little "work meetings."

While they've built a sort of rapport over their work lives, there seems to be something else simmering beneath the surface. This is reflected in more visual cues: their body language seems more comfortable/relaxed - they lean towards one another as opposed to leaning back and maintaining distance; the table itself is much smaller (meaning they're seated closer together/with less distance between them); and they've also switched sides - Beelzebub is now seated on the left and Gabriel is on the right. Their meeting place seems to be a bar in America, which might mean they've still been avoiding any meetings in their home territories.

Beelzebub is open to Gabriel's suggestion and agrees to it almost immediately. Instead of rushing off like he did after their first meeting, Gabriel remains seated and Beelzebub seems to get a bit flustered by his gaze. They discuss the music playing on the jukebox, and Beelzebub is so much more patient with Gabriel's lack of knowledge than they would have been with anyone else. There are multiple layers to Gabriel's line, "Then ... I also like it." The little subtleties from Jon Hamm and Shelley Conn add a wonderful depth to these short scenes tbh.

At the end of the meeting, Beelzebub straightens up, fixes their gaze on Gabriel, and very pointedly states that there's "no NEED for them to ever meet again," smiling slightly as they wait for his response ("none whatsoever"). The wording there is important because ...

Third Meeting: ... there IS no "need" for them to ever meet again. From here on out, they're meeting solely because they WANT to be in each other's company. They're no longer pretending that their meetings are strictly business, and they're also not limiting themselves to locations outside their home territories. I get the feeling that the Third Meeting the audience gets to see was more like their "first date." Instead of meeting directly at a public location to discuss "business," Gabriel takes Beelzebub to see something important to him. Of course, this is Gabriel we're talking about, and he's taken Beelzebub to see the statue of him in a local cemetery in Edinburgh. But still! The statue is meaningful to him, and he wanted to share that with Beelzebub. They're even standing right next to each other as the scene begins, with Beelzebub's head cocked to listen as Gabriel speaks. Shelley Conn gives us this awesome moment of Beelzebub looking at Gabriel almost wistfully, and mmm do I have Some Thoughts about that entire scene. I've shared them elsewhere, maybe I'll eventually post them over here, but the TLDR is that yeah, I feel like they're wishing Gabriel would look at them Like That. I also think maybe there was some larger doubt re: whether or not the Archangel Fucking Gabriel, God's Messenger, would ever love a demon over their heavenly duty/station. But I digress.

Following their excursion to see the statue, Beelzebub and Gabriel wind up at The Resurrectionist. Gabriel's been wearing that coat again, which could show another shift in the seasons. Instead of sitting across from each other, Gabriel and Beelzebub are now seated next to each other in a cozy booth. The candles and dim lighting give it a romantic feel. Adding to that clumsy sort of romantic feeling, we see Gabriel and Beelzebub each doing something nice for the other just to see them happy. Gabriel performs a small miracle on the jukebox to have it play what has essentially become "their" song, and Beelzebub gifts a fly in return - essentially, a small piece of themselves, as they are the Lord of the Flies after all. It also happens to be the first thing anyone's ever given to Gabriel, a fact that has quite an impact on Beelzebub.

When Aziraphale is talking to the owner of The Resurrectionist, he learns that the jukebox miracle occurred "last year." So we can deduce (detective word!) that Gabriel and Beelzebub had been "dating" for about a year prior to his "disappearance." A year is a long time for them to develop much deeper feelings and intimacy. Not necessarily talking about sex there either, because folks can imagine whatever they want to in that regard. I mean intimacy in the sense of knowing and feeling comfortable with each other. The way they hold hands and have their arms around each other in the S2 finale indicates that they'd gotten pretty cozy with all of that. I mean, come on, look at how happy Gabriel was to see them once his memories were returned and how immediately his entire demeanor changed.

In the brief moments we see Gabriel prior to his memory loss, he's behaving differently from his S1 counterpart, who was a lot more rigid and laser-focused on Armageddon. Even Beelzebub seems a bit changed; that scene with Demon Josh is a great example. Granted, Beelzebub was more subdued/worried about Gabriel in that moment, but it seems like they'd grown a longer fuse and/or were less quick to anger/annoyance. Daydreaming can do that to a demon, I suppose.

I love this pairing; they're such a great example of how loving someone and being loved in return can bring out the "real"/best version of yourself. I'd totally read an entire novel about them. And can I just add once again that the visual cues were so well done? Not just the acting from Shelley Conn and Jon Hamm, who really brought a lot to the table (see what I did there) with their facial expressions and mannerisms, but the actual visual cues in each of these scenes: the way the two of them were gradually seen to be sitting closer until they were seated right next to each other; the shift in body language between meetings; the way they switched sides during each of the meetings we got to see, as opposed to Aziraphale and Crowley having dominant "sides" that we tend to see them on; etc. I could write an essay on this (more than I already have) so I'll have to stop myself now.

Anyway. Screenplays are neat, and it's fun to see how words and imagery combine to tell a much larger story. Of course, you need great actors to really bring it all home, and thankfully we've been blessed with many in Good Omens. Much love to Jon Hamm and Shelley Conn for their work here.

#good omens #good omens 2 #gomens #ineffable bureaucracy #boxfly #beelzebub x gabriel #gabriel x beelzebub #lord beelzebub #archangel gabriel #s2 ep6 #shut up j #listen i just enjoy analyzing media sometimes #especially when it brings me serotonin

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Thirty-One - Rosekiller Finale

TW: NSFW - it’s pure smut, light BDSM

March Daily Series - 1467 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Remember the rules,” Evan said, holding up his hands. “Go slow. You can’t make me cum until I say ‘please’ and you have to stop touching if I let go of the headboard.”

Barty grumbled as he looped the silk scarf around Evan’s wrists, “But you never say ‘please.’”

“Only because you get overexcited.” Evan flicked the tip of his nose, then laughed at Barty’s incredulous expression. “Simp.”

“Guilty, I like making you scream.”

Evan’s smirk widened as he leaned in to kiss Barty properly. It quickly became all tongue and teeth as Evan bit his lips until his cock strained against his pants. Barty’s vision went white for a moment as he panted into Evan’s mouth and waited for the soreness to ease.

Until his piercings healed, Barty was limited to bringing Evan off for the next two weeks. He was more than eager to do so, but Evan was intent on punishing him. Affectionately, of course.

“Speak philosophy to me,” Evan whispered against his lips. “A nice one to start. Something lovely.”

Good distraction. I’ll take it.

“True love cannot be found where it does not exist, nor can be denied where it does,” Barty murmured as he kissed along Evan’s jaw and down his neck. Gently, he lifted the joined hands over Evan’s head. “Grab the headboard.”

His tongue trailed leisurely down his stunning body, toying with the bar in each nipple until Evan cursed under his breath. Barty kissed each of his moles, then nipped at his hip bones to make him squirm. He’d missed every inch of this beautiful man and intended to show him exactly how much now that Evan was his again.

“Tell me another one,” Evan insisted, his shoulders lifting off the bed as he adjusted his grip on the metal spindles. “Your mind is so fucking sexy.”

Barty’s neck burned at the compliment. “God is dead, and we have killed him.”

Evan rolled his shoulders and scoffed, “We should do it again. I’d like a go at his massive ego.”

“I’d hold him down for you, Rosie, so you can behead him,” he promised.

Evan’s laugh was breathless and ended in a low whine when Barty finally wrapped his tongue around the tip of his cock. “So glad you put the tongue ring back in.”

“Just for you,” he said, rubbing the metal ball along the throbbing vein underneath. Barty was delighted by Evan’s groan and the shiver that raced up his spine. “I know you love it.”

“Fuck, yes!”

After three days of patching things up with everyone that demanded an apology from him, Barty was relieved to be back where he really belonged: between Evan’s thighs.

I should build an altar for him, then ask him to bend me over it.

He grinned at the thought, then bit the tender skin just to hear his boyfriend yelp. Barty swallowed him straight down his throat and nestled his nose against the sandy curls for a long, torturous moment, then bobbed up and down his length with slow, deep strokes.

The rings on Evan’s trembling hands rattled against the metal spindles of the headboard. Barty moaned as he deep-throated his cock and swallowed around the tip over and over again. He was already losing the plot.

Evan gasped, “Bloody hell.”

All of his sounds were delicious, soul-fortifying snacks, and Barty couldn’t get enough of them. He loved the way Evan squirmed and writhed underneath him, but he needed to hear him scream his name. Everything that Evan gave him was precious and he intended to worship him as fervently and as often as possible, even if he was lectured for it.

“I’m close,” Evan warned through clenched teeth, undulating his hips against Barty’s face until his vision blurred. “I’m too close! So…fucking…close.”

Barty gripped his hips with both hands and pulled off of his cock completely. Evan huffed in protest, trying to chase Barty’s mouth, but he was determined to get there his way. Barty ducked lower and tossed Evan’s legs onto his shoulders.

“Slow down,” Evan said, panting heavily.

“I’m trying,” he insisted. Barty leaned in and teased Evan’s rim with the silver ball in his tongue until he relaxed enough to let him in, then flicked it inside. “Say it, Rosie.”

Evan pressed his lips together as he moaned and refused to let the word slip. Barty probed deeper, hands gripping Evan’s arse. His hips jerked up as he stuttered, “Nnngh! N-Not happen…ing.”

With an impatient growl, Barty resorted to deep, lingering strokes of both his tongue and fingers as he battered Evan’s prostate. It was cheating, but he didn’t care. He wanted Evan to baptise him in cum. To acknowledge Barty as this beautiful flesh and blood god’s one and only supplicant. But first, Barty had to make him fucking beg!

“For fuck’s sake, Barty!” Evan cried out, back arching beautifully off of the bed as his swollen cock strained against his belly. “That’s the…spot!”

Evan kneed Barty in the shoulder and he immediately pulled back. His guttural groan of frustration sent goosebumps crawling over Evan’s skin.

“Go on, beg,” Barty demanded, aching to bury his face in Evan’s arse. One little ‘please’ and he was allowed to devour him whole. Barty licked Evan’s taint, then sucked one of his bollocks into his mouth. His patience had evaporated.

“Nice try.”

He watched Evan’s flushed face as he struggled with the scarf. Desperately, Barty swirled his tongue around the salty skin, then switched it out for the other bollock and sucked harder. The moment Evan’s fingers released the headboard, Barty stopped touching him altogether and punched the mattress.

“No, no! I’m not done!”

Ignoring him, Evan wrestled the scarf off of his hands and launched upright to grab Barty’s hair with one hand. “Calm down,” Evan ordered, fingernails scratching Barty’s scalp harshly as he used the other hand to grip his chin. “Open. Now.”

Barty whined, but complied. He sucked on two of Evan’s fingers soothingly until he pressed them down firmly on his tongue.

“You can’t just demand it, Barty. You have to earn it,” Evan said patiently. “Take your time to build it up.”

Evan’s words washed over him like a cool, comforting breeze. He forced his body to relax and nodded curtly. Slowly, Evan eased his fingers free.

“All good?” he checked.

“Yes,” Barty said, sufficiently chastened. “All good.”

Evan used both hands to card through Barty’s hair. “Self-control is learned. Keep trying, you’re doing so well.”

Barty pressed his nose into the crease between Evan’s thigh and hip, then inhaled deeply of the musky scent that was uniquely him. He wanted to make Evan happy, and Evan wanted him to calm the fuck down. There was a time for frantic, mind-numbing sex and this wasn’t it.

“That’s it, centre yourself,” Evan encouraged.

With a bolstered resolve, Barty eased Evan onto his back and hooked his arms under his legs, then pressed his knees into his chest. Once Evan was wide open to Barty’s gaze, he purposefully avoided all of his favourite places. For the next ten minutes, Barty laved his tongue over the rest of Evan’s body. He sucked bruises into his thighs and swirled his tongue around his nipples.

Evan praised him at first, but was growing increasingly frustrated. He huffed in annoyance and tugged at Barty’s hair. “Enough! Please.”

Grateful for the release from Evan’s restrictions, Barty surged forward and buried his face in his boyfriend’s arse. At once, Evan’s thighs squeezed tight around his neck and cut off his air flow. Barty’s head went dizzy and light, but he determinedly pressed forward.

Hands down, the best game they’ve ever played.

Evan’s hips rocked wildly against the bed as a string of filthy curses burst from his lips. Barty fucked his tongue into him as deep as he could reach. Loud, keening cries burst from Evan’s mouth when he finally came untouched. Barty replaced his tongue with his fingers and lifted his face to catch the stripes of cum with his face before they landed on the bed. He licked and sucked Evan’s cock until he’d drained him completely, then kept going until Evan’s body contorted from oversensitivity.

“Barty! Fuck!”

“You can go again. I know you can,” he said, lazily teasing Evan’s cock until his boyfriend’s chest heaved with each laboured breath.

Evan shoved his head away roughly and lay panting in the centre of the bed. “Such a prick.”

“Ungrateful cunt. You asked for it,” Barty retorted as he crawled up Evan’s body. “And see what a mess you made?”

Evan unsuccessfully fought back a grin as Barty flopped onto the bed next to him. He turned onto his side and swirled his fingers over Barty’s face, gathering his cum and letting Barty suck it off.

“Better?”

“Much.”

#barty crouch jr x evan rosier #evan x barty #barty x evan #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty jr #evan rosier #rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #slytherin skittles #marauders era

[vintagepresley]

Birthday Girl

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

This is a special birthday request for @lyssaxoxoelvis 🥰

Warnings: 18+ SMUT Dirty talking, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, naive reader??, typical Elvis stuff.

Author's Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BESTIEEEE.

As a surprise for your birthday your best friend got the two of you tickets to see Elvis in concert front row and you couldn't be more excited. You were such a huge fan of Elvis, maybe one of the biggest. Your dream would be to have him sing happy birthday to you. You couldn't take your eyes off him the entire performance, the way he sang the way he strutted across that stage in his flashy jumpsuit. He was the most sexiest man you've possibly ever seen and even more so in person. He nearly left you breathless between all of your screams and the tears. It all felt like a dream come true. You got lucky enough to catch one of the scarfs he threw out into the crowd, you had to fight off some of the other girls who tried to take it from you. Elvis even happened to notice the mayhem he caused in the crowd when he let you have it. But he also couldn't keep his eye off you. You were hard to miss in that baby blue mini skirt that hit just above your knee and that you may have purposely left a few buttons undone to show a bit of cleavage. Each time he made eye contact with you, it only made you blush like crazy.

As the show was ending a member of Elvis' memphis mafia came up to you and your friend. "Hi ladies, uh.. Elvis was wondering if the two of you would like to come backstage to meet him? I'm Jerry." He said with a smile. Your jaw was practically on the floor when you heard him utter those words. "R-Really?" you said in shock. "Yeah, he wanted me to come and get you personally." Jerry says. You squeal in excited and catching yourself trying to remain calm. Your friend wasn't as interested so she suggested that you should go since it's your birthday. You told her you'd meet her back at the hotel and Jerry whisked you away and led you backstage where Elvis was expecting you. You looked up at Jerry and hesitated for a moment but decided to ask anyway. "Um.. Do you think he'd maybe sing happy birthday to me?" you asked sweetly. Jerry smiled. "I don't see why not. I could ask him for you." he said softly. You beamed happily letting out a soft content sigh as your heart was racing the closer you got to the room.

Once you approached you spotted Elvis right away already changed out of his jumpsuit and sitting on the couch laughing and talking with some of his friends. You bit down on your bottom lip as Jerry brought you into the room and introduced you to the man himself. Elvis smiled at the sight of you and eyeing that dress of yours with a smirk. He stood up from the couch, towering over you and you swallowed harshly, feeling so starstruck by him. "Well hello there, darlin'. What's your name?" he said with a smirk. "Uh.. It's uh.. Y/N." you said nervously, feeling so embarrassed because you almost forgot your own name in front of this man. He chuckled softly. "Nice to meet you, honey." he grinned, leaning toward you to give your cheek a kiss. You could feel your face already growing hot. You watched as Jerry leaned toward Jerry and whispered something into his ear that had Elvis smiling widely at you. "It's your birthday!?" he grinned. You nodded slowly, smiling. Jerry giving you a wink before he walked away.

Elvis looked around for a moment and he slide his arm around your waist. "I'd love to sing happy birthday to you, honey. But whatadya say we go somewhere a little more private?" he said softly. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "You don't have to go through all that trouble I'm fine with you singing it here." you say naively. He furrowed his brow and chuckled a bit. "I insist. It's your birthday." he said. You couldn't say no to Elvis Presley, so you smile and nodded. He smirked and told the guys he'd be right back and he kept a tight hold on your waist as he led you out of the room and down the hall to another. Usually you'd be a bit hesitate with just going off with a man you didn't know. But it was Elvis and you'd follow that man anywhere. When you got to the room you noticed that there was only a couch and you raised an eyebrow as he shut the door behind you and locked it. You began to get nervous being all alone with him because this was a dream come true. You watched as he moved closer to you and you slowly back up until you plopped down right onto the couch, staring up at the gorgeous man before you.

He smirked and let out a soft chuckle as he sat down beside you, he stared at you for a moment. "Why are you sittin' so far away? C'mere." he hummed, patting his lap. You looked at him and then down at his lap, biting at your bottom lip. "I uh.. I don't know.." you stammered over your words, feeling your face get hot. "I ain't gonna bite, honey. Just wanna sing ya happy birthday." he said with a sly grin on his face. You blushed and nodded your head hesitantly getting up to sit right in his lap. He smiled, slipping an arms around your waist and placing a hand on one of your thighs that were exposed to him because of the way your dress lifted as you sat in his lap. You felt a chill run all over your body from his light touch and trying your best to stop blushing. "Now I can sing to ya, baby." he said softly with a smirk. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and an embarrassing giggle escaped your lips, prompting you to quickly cover your mouth. He just laughed thinking it was the cutest thing. You cleared your throat and collected yourself.

"So.. Are you going to sing to me or were you just trying to get me into your lap?" you say with a smirk. He laughed. "I'm gonna sing, woman." he said with a smirk. You smiled happily turning yourself a bit in his lap to face him. He pulled you closer to him and his voice was soft as he began to sing happy birthday.

Happy birthday to you..

Happy birthday to you..

Happy birthday, Y/N.. Happy birthday to you.

You were beaming with happiness at his every word. You were smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt and you couldn't stop blushing. He smiled and leaned in close to give your lips a soft kiss. You were not expecting that at all. His lips lingered over yours for a moment. "Happy birthday, baby." he whispered against them. Your gaze catching his as you sat silently with him for a moment before you threw your arms around him and pulled him close, crashing your lips back against his. You wanted him more than anything in this moment. This perfect moment that he made so special just for you. You wanted to pinch yourself because it didn't feel real that you were sitting in this mans lap and making out with him. You could feel him smirking against your lips as if this was his plan the entire time but you didn't care. "It being your birthday and all.. You deserve a gift don't ya think, honey?" he smirked.

You stared at him, biting your bottom lip as your heart raced. "W-What kind of gift might that be?" you asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him so innocently. He smirked and grabbed one of your hands and guided it down to his crotch and you could feel how hard he was already. "I was thinking this could be your gift.. If ya want it, baby." he hummed. You blushed feeling his hard on in your hand and you rubbed your hand against it gently, nodding your head. "I-I want it.. Please.." you said softly. He grinned at your words and he reached up to brush his thumb against your lips and parting them slowly with it. "I know exactly where I want to give it to you first.." he said softly. You let out a soft whimper as his thumb moved into your mouth and you sucked on it slowly, staring into his eyes as you did. "You're a good girl, aren't you?" he mumbled. You nodded slowly at his words, swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking on it a bit faster. "Why don't you get down on your knees for me, baby.. I think your gift is ready." he smirked. You popped his thumb out of his mouth and nodded as you slowly and carefully slipped out of his lap and sunk down to your knees in front of him.

You let out a soft noise feeling the harsh carpet against your bare knees and you watched with wide eyes as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. You licked over your lips watching as he tugged them down enough that his cock popped right out and you nearly gasp at the sight of it, squeezing your thighs together as you felt the heat between your legs throbbing and wet at the very sight of his aching wet cock. "C'mere, baby.. Open that mouth." he hummed as he reached down toward you, placing his hand on the back of your head as you inched closer to him. You wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked it slowly, watching his precum leak from his swollen tip as you parted your lips slowly and taking him in your mouth. He groaned softly as he kept his eyes on you, watching you suck on just his tip. You made soft noises as you slowly sucked, keeping your eyes up on him the entire time. He grasped your head and slowly pushed you down a bit to take his cock a little further into his mouth. You tried to pace yourself but he wasn't letting that happened. His cock hollowing your cheek as you continued to suck slowly, bobbing your head.

His groans grew louder as he tried his best to choke them back, pursing his lips to try to keep quiet. You had saliva already gathering around the sides of your mouth and leaking down his cock and without even a warning he pushed your head down forcing his cock into the back of your throat and causing you to gag quietly. "Oh fuck.. J-Just hold it there, baby.." he groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. Your hands gripped onto his thighs as your soft gags grew louder and you let out soft moans around his cock and until he finally pulled your head back. "Damn... Get your ass up here." he laughed, patting the empty spot of the couch. You giggled softly, wiping your mouth and standing back up and plopping down on the couch. He climbed right on top of you, tugging your skirt up and spreading your legs open and revealing your panties to him and he grinned at the sight of them. He could already see just how wet he made you from big wet spot and how they clung to your pussy. "Fuck.. You're practically soaked already." he smirked.

You felt your face turn bright red from him staring right at your most private area and just admiring it. You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched him slowly remove your panties and then he tucked them right into his back pocket. "Hey! I need those!" you exclaimed. "They're mine now.. Somethin' to remember you by." he grinned. You shook your head at him and just laughed. He moved between your legs so that his head was perfectly placed between your thighs and he trailed kisses along each one slowly, keeping his eye on what he wanted the most and watching as you grew more wet by the minute. "Goddamnn.. This pussy is just aching for me, isn't it? You horny little girl.." he hummed. You nodded at his words, whimpering softly. "It's all your fault." you whispered. "We'll just have to fix that, hm?" he cooed. You inhaled sharply watching his fingers gaze against your pussy causing your whole body to tremble from his light touch.

He pushed his fingers between your velvety wet folds and groaning more turned on as your sweet juices coated his fingers. You gasped softly when he buried his face in your pussy, his tongue swirling around your sensitive clit, lapping up your sweet nectar and letting out soft groans as he flicked his tongue against your clit. You let out soft moans and reached down to tangle your hands in his hair, tugging at it gently as your back arched against the couch. "Oh.. Elvis.." you said breathlessly. He smirked at your words, gliding his tongue down between your folds and shoving his tongue right into your tight hole. You tugged tighter at his hair and inhaling sharply as your moans grew louder and you tightened your legs around his head. His hands gripped your thighs as he continued to eat you out, pumping his tongue inside of you deep and your slick making a mess of his face. His groans grew louder and he was like an animal the way he ate you like you were his last meal. He lifted your hips up from the couch to get a better angle as he tongue fucked your hole.

His name leaving your lips louder and louder as you were practically yanking at his hair and you were sure that his guys could hear you just right down the hall. He finally came up for air, smirking and licking his lips and your eyes rolled back as you moaned, staring at his messy face. "So fuckin' good.. I bet it feels even better." he grinned as he sat up, grabbing your thighs and tugging you forward to wrap them around his waist and you squealed from his roughness. "Gonna give you the best birthday gift ever, baby.." he hummed. "Oh god.. Please.." you begged, needing his cock inside of you more than ever. He grinned at your words and he grabbed his cock and slide it between your folds getting it nice and wet with your slick between he lined it up with your entrance and shoved his cock deep inside of you, he didn't even give you a chance to adjust. You whimpered softly, wincing and moaning beneath him as he forced you to take every inch of him. "That's it, baby.. Takin' that cock like a good girl.." you mewled.

You cried out his name feeling him bottom out inside of you and forcing your walls open around him and he grabbed your hips and began to slam his cock inside of you deep, holding you still as he pumped inside of you slamming his hips against yours and fucking you right into the couch. "So damn tight.." he growled. Your hands rested against his chest, clutching onto his shirt and digging your nails into him as your eyes rolled back and you moaned loudly. "E-Elvis.." you mewled, his name never leaving your lips as he plowed into you and his cock hitting right up against your cervix and he and he pushed your legs back to force them more open as he slammed harder and his balls slapping right up against you. His groans growing as loud as your moans as they filled the empty room, echoing throughout.

One of his hands gripped onto the couch beneath you as his body pressed against yours and his face buried into the side of your neck. "Ah shit.. You're gonna make me fuckin' cum..." he groaned against you. You usually wouldn't allow a guy to cum inside of you, but your mind was not thinking straight tonight and you wanted his inside of you so bad. You were desperate. "C-Cum inside of me.. Please.." you whimpered against his ear. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You sure, baby?" he asked. You nodded at his words. "Please Elvis.. I-I need it, baby.. Fill me up.." you begged. He loved the sound of you begging so desperately for him. "Such a needy little slut.." he cooed. He could feel himself growing close as he continued to plow into you, feeling his cock throb inside of you ready to just explode. Your own orgasm was building in the pit of your stomach as your body grew numb and tense and shaky all over.

"Oh god.. I.. I'm gonna cum.." you screamed. You grabbed his face to look at yours and you crashed your lips against his own, kissing him deeply and sloppily. He moaned into your mouth. "Fuckin' cum for me, baby." he groaned. The two of you moving against one another faster as you tried to get the other to reach an orgasm and slowly but surely the two of you reached your climaxes at the very same time and you came all over his cock the noise leaving your lips was pornographic. He moaned loudly against your mouth as his cum came spurting out inside of you and he came so much that it was already leaking out of you before he even pulled his cock out. He collapsed on top of you, pressing kisses along your sweaty face as his own sweat dripped onto you. "Happy birthday, honey." he grinned. You could hardly form a sentence and you smiled at his words. "Thank you.. Uh.. This was probably the best birthday of my life.." you giggled. He laughed softly as he moved to lay beside you as the two of you tried to catch your breathe.

You were over the moon with happiness and couldn't even comprehend what just happened. But it was the best night of your life and a birthday you would never forget.

*

#elvis Presley #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #requested #HAPPY BIRTHDAY

[thedeal-if]

Helloo! The ROs love languages? 😊

Hey!! This has already been answered but I think I'm much more detailed with my asks now so I'm redoing it 🧍

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

•“You’re great just the way you are” “I appreciate you.” •Endless and unprompted praise. Encouragement, just talking for the sake of talking. •Being listened to and validated. Having someone entertain his silly whims, his need to keep doing something— anything.

Gives: Gifts

•Spoiling his partner rotten to the best of his capacities, lavishing them in gifts, seeing the way their eyes light up. •Willing to take things slow, sit back and relax for his partner. •Elevating his partner art-wise, thinking of them as his one and only muse.

Receiving: Physical Touch

•Plain and simply put: sex. Being kissed, having her hands held. •Very soft and intimate physical moments: sleepy cuddles, kisses on her cheek, the warmth of life and innocence. •The knowledge that a future between her partner and her is possible, making a family.

Gives: Physical Touch

•Kisses on the cheek, warm hugs •Prepares her partner's favorite foods, dotes on them and showers them in validation and affection. •Brags about her partner often and very openly, would love to show them off shamelessly. The entire world needs to know of her devotion.

Receiving: Quality Time

•Domesticity, lazy mornings together, the cohesion of two compatible people living together. •The assurance that he's making someone proud, that he's listened to—and not only heard. •Whenever things get overwhelming—and though he often gives the impression that he wants space—having someone check on him, even if it's just through an standard text of ‘Are you okay?’.

Gives: Quality Time

•Planning dates and outings, including his partner in all his plans and ideas. •Often checks on his partner when he can't meet them as easily. •Celebrating his partner's achievements like they're his own. Remembers every little detail since he met them until today.

Receiving: Quality Time

•Going on adventures, spontaneously. Be it a long walk, a dinner out or even skydiving, she is always willing to spend time with her partner. •Sudden dates after work—hanging out in her shop, too—staving off the boredom. •She enjoys anything that involves food especially. Having someone who cooks for her would be a dream come true.

Gives: Gifts

•Impulsive little gifts: flowers, tea, plushies, handmade crochet scarfs to protect her partner from the winter. •Tarot readings, borrowing and lending books with her partner. •Pep talks, she'd love to be her partner's personal and very enthusiastic cheerleader.

Receiving: Acts of Service

•Small gestures, having someone to shoulder his burdens with him (without fully taking responsibility for them, that's Victor's job). •Having his partner consider him a part of their long-term future, within realistic paradigms. He'd find overly idealism naive. •Someone who vocalizes what they want and doesn't beat around the bush.

Gives: Acts of Service

•Cooks, does chores, goes out of his way to be two steps ahead and get things done for his partner's comfort. •Makes plans around his partner, makes sure to include them on his every idea. Asks his partner what they want to do on an specific date and takes responsibility handling the logistics. •Teaches his partner how to defend themselves.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

•Genuine praise, having her God Complex stroked without her partner being a yes-man or kissing her ass constantly. •Having her bluntness being met with equally blunt honesty in every aspect and topic. •“I’ve got your back” “You’re doing great”

Gives: Quality Time

•“Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it” •Joins her partner and keeps them company even if she's completely uninterested in that specific hobby. Watching any media together. •Roasts her partner, playfully teasing them without crossing the line and hurting them.

Receiving: Physical Touch

•Having his back stroked, nails slowly dragging up and down and scratching his skin. •Being massaged, holding hands, cuddling. •Someone whom he can make cry with laughter.

Gives: Words of Affirmation

•Teases mercilessly, speaks very highly of his partner. •Leans on his partner, drapes an arm around them, bites them fondly, kisses them out of the blue. •Could speak for hours and hours about all sorts of topics, enjoys debating and listening to his partner's opinions.

Receiving: Quality time

•A moment of brief silence and companionship, knuckles brushing against each other, enjoying the sun and peacefulness. •Casual and impromptu get-togethers. •Sharing hobbies and interests, finding excuses to meet and spend a few hours in her partner's company.

Gives: Acts of Service

•Small tokens of appreciation, woodcrafting statues offered casually. •Fixing anything that's broken for her partner: their car, their electronic devices, etc. •Though she might not understand the extent of her partner's problems, she's always ready to listen and solve them as best as she can.

#the deal if #the deal #inferno #ask #ros #dante #lilith #josh #villanelle #victor #aliyah #nathan #eden

[dream-meister-translations]

THIS HOLY NIGHT EMILIO - VOICE COLLECTION

━

"I can't remember the last time I took a vacation. I'm glad I got to spend it with you."

"That flavored tea we drank together was so warm and delicious."

"I'm still trying to decide what to wish for at the candlelight ceremony…"

"We should walk slowly today. It's snowing and slippery. Besides, I want to spend as much time with you as possible."

"Sometimes it's fun to play in the snow. Building snowmen… You and I could have a lot of fun together."

"I'm exceptionally cold today. I think it's better if we stick close. Like this. We'll keep each other warm, won't we?"

"How was your day? I felt like I was the only one who had any fun. It's making me anxious…"

"What do you want to do today? We have time. Let's figure it out together."

"I love the gift. It's like a bond between you and I. Thank you."

"Thank you. It's a nice gift. Especially from you."

"Be careful, it's called hot cocoa for a reason. I can't wait to try it, I hear it's delicious."

"When we get back to the inn, I'd like to make you a hot drink."

"I hope they have wine or whiskey."

"We should share a room. I'd like to spend as much time with you as possible. What do you think?"

"You smell kind of sweet today. I want to stay like this a while longer…"

"Your cheeks are a little red, are you cold? If so, it's better to wrap your hands around them like this. Oh, they're even redder now."

"You're really cute. No, I'm not trying to flatter you. I'm just saying what I think."

"Are you cold? You can put your hand in the pocket of my jacket if you want."

"Actually, there is one thing I've always wished for…You to be truly happy."

"You can tell me what you wish for. I'll do everything in my power to make it come true."

"Thank you, sweetie. You always notice the little things."

"Is this what you call happiness?"

"Would you like to try wrapping it around you too? It's a long scarf. There's enough room for both of us."

"No, I'm not kidding, that's how I really feel."

"It's a little cold in here, isn't it? Shall I buy you a hot drink and take you home? Or maybe I'll just give you a hug~"

"When you look up at me like that you're so cute. I could just hug you."

"You must have forgiven me to be giving me such a nice gift."

"Really anything would make me happy. The gift itself, the time you've spent with me, you sharing your feelings…"

"You're such a sweetheart…I never want to let you go."

"Oh, it's so cold. Let's hold hands for a while."

"Your ears are getting red because of the cold. Oops, did I startle you. Sorry I blew on you out of nowhere."

"Just being around you makes me smile and feel all tingly. You're really special."

"If I get used to being close to you, I'm sure I'll never want to leave. Are you okay with that?"

"I'm going to miss you so much…Sorry, thinking about leaving you while we're still in the same room together is a bad habit of mine."

"Hey, can I kiss you?"

"Whoa! You scared me. I can't believe you snuck up on me…But, I'm glad you did."

"Why are you so reserved? I don't mind you touching me."

"You can squeeze me tighter. It makes me feel closer to you."

"I never knew I was so greedy, until I met you."

"I don't think I can ever leave you… You'll have to prepare yourself."

"I want you to touch me even if it doesn't mean anything."

"When you move your fingers like that it tickles."

"You aren't doing this to anyone else are you?"

"I can't even joke about it anymore, if you had a lover in your life, I might just cut them down."

"Did you want me to care this much? Then don't hesitate, it's too late for regrets."

"Do you have any time after this? When we get back to the inn, we can stay in my room. I'd like to spend more time with you."

"You are distancing yourself from me…Still I can't help but reach out for you…"

"Even though you're usually so professional and dignified…You can also be cute and innocent at times. I find that gap between the two endearing."

"Maybe I want to think you're mine…I can't handle it…"

"Oh…When did I fall asleep? Sorry…I'm still sleepy."

"Being with you is the only thing that makes me happy."

"You're so beautiful. I feel like I'm dreaming."

"Are you afraid of me? That scared look on your face says it all…I just want you to be mine."

"You are the sun for me. If I get too close, I'll burn…If I lose you, I'll die…"

"I'm often told that the Commander and I share a similar approach to peace."

"The Commander and I often fight in the front lines together, but no matter how many times I see him in action, I'm always blown away."

"The Commander is respected by all the knights and I think he's a really great person."

"I've never won against the Commander."

"I wonder how much training the Commander had to go through to get that strength…"

"Come to think of it, snowball fights use not only physical strength, but brains as well."

"There are aspects where tactics are important, such as reading an opponent's behavior…Sometimes the Commander makes us practice while doing marching exercises in snowy mountains."

"Harriet? He's the best archer in the Knights order."

"If Harriet had the time, he would preach to every single knight about the wonders of love."

"Harriet's strengths are…Well, he's good at seeing through the inner workings of people… He has an observant eye and a strong heart that will never give up."

"This is to me? Ahahaha, um… Yeah, thank you."

"I'll take it but I'd like if you knew more about what I do and don't like."

"I'm the kind of guy who can't stand being taken advantage of."

"Will you accept my feelings? I know it isn't enough…But, I still wanted to tell you."

━

EMILIO : I don't usually get much rest…What should I do at times like this? Commander, would you like to train? ALEX : We can train, but I won't go easy on you.

━

EMILIO : This scarf and hat, I think they would look good on Emma. Don't you think so too, Fuzz? FUZZ : I think they would look better on you. Which one do you like better?

#Yumekuro #YMKR #Yumekuro Translations #YMKR translations #Otome #Dream Meister Translations #Otome Translations #Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy #Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy translations #emilio #emiliovoice

[startanewdream]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers ❤️

Thanks for the tag @merlins-sequined-hotpants and @indigo-scarf!

My own favorite fics tend to change and I kind of have too many fics now (if you count those I've only posted on Tumblr, it's more than 100 fics by now), so I tried to limit only those on AO3:

- Light beam: ‘Dad, hypothetically… what would you have done if Mum was Sirius’ sister?’ Or a Jily Lives AU canon compliant with HBP. I have a lot of feelings for all fics in Eyes Glistening, but this one is still the nicest I've written. Once I thought about rewriting the whole series from James and Lily's pov as they watched from "above" but it was too damn sad all the time — now in this series they get to engage with Harry! They get to be there for Harry in one of the happiest moments of Harry's life and they get to see Harry struggling with the tale as old as time! If you ever want to read ONE Jily Lives AU story in this series, go read this one :)

- bury it and rise above: Lily is a Witch. James is a Muggle. It's not easier.

This is the kind of fic that made me want to write again: an AU retell that adapts canon elements while still keeping the characters as close to canon as possible. Muggle James is just as magical as Wizard James for me, and Lily is twice as amazing. I hope you fall in love with the Summer/Winter theme, I hope you enjoy this tale of friends-to-lovers.

- the thing about (il)licit affairs: James and Lily embark in a journey of friendship with benefits and set some rules. Too bad James is a rulebreaker by nature and no one tells Lily what she should do.

I've never enjoyed writing any other multi-chapter fic as much as I've enjoyed this one, and I hope it shows. It's funny and light and silly, and so James and Lily :)

- Until Spring Comes Again: When evil forces conspire to take the throne, Prince James needs to choose between a life of mischief or to become the king he should be.

I get it, Lion King AU does not spark much confidence (with an universe of Disney princesses I went for the Hamlet AU), but hey, give it a shot. This story has everything: true love, sword fights, betrayal, friendship, marauders, can you feel the love tonight. It's still the best plotted story I've ever written!

Five Stages of Starflower: James is oblivious, Lily is mostly okay with her unrequited love and Sirius has a few plans about this situation.

This fic was my birthday gift to myself once! I remember being stuck at some points and every time I got out of it thinking: "what do I want to happen now, no matter how unlikely/stupid it sounds?" It's so self-indulgent and I love it for it. And also, five people gave me the same Jily prompt for it, which was my most iconic moment in the fandom <3

Tagging @blitheringmcgonagall @sweeethinny @the-dream-team @maraudersftw and @midnightelite if you want to, and also @constancezin if you want to share your fave arts!

[littlemisspascal]

Formula 101 - Prologue Part 3: November

Summary: The first weekend of November begins with Eggsy cooking in your apartment’s kitchen.

Pairing: eventual Javi/Fem!Reader "Oddball" (OFC)

Word Count: 10,000+ (I think??? this is my longest single chapter ever??? 😮)

Rating: T

Warnings: Social Media Fic, Formula One AU ft. multiple Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe characters, Switching POVs, Worldbuilding, Headlines inspired by true events but edited for this plot, Usernames were created for fun and if they do exist irl there's no affiliation, Slowest of Slow Burn, Language, Alcohol

Author Note: Massive thank you to everybody who gave this fic a chance! The support is beyond appreciated 💗💗💗

A03 Link | Series Masterlist

The first weekend of November begins with Eggsy cooking in your apartment’s kitchen.

You blink at him, slowly shutting the front door behind you. This happens sometimes, the boys showing up at your place and letting themselves in with the spare keys Past-You was stupid enough to give them. Truthfully, you don’t mind their presence, it’s just normally you get some kind of semi-polite head’s up text instead of making the spontaneous discovery when you return home from your afternoon gym session drenched in sweat. 

“Nice of you to drop in, Eggsy,” you say. Then you sniff the air, eyes widening with alarm even as your mouth waters. “Oh my God, you made chicken tacos.”

“And avocado salad,” he replies, without looking up from the cutting board where he’s diligently chopping perfectly marinated chicken thighs into smaller pieces.

You start toeing off your sneakers, brow creasing. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour or so ago. Caught a red-eye flight then took a cab.”

Oh shit, you think, wrestling your backpack off your shoulders. A red-eye flight and a cooking session? This is more serious than you thought.

Everybody’s got their own eccentric trait or two. Little quirks that set them apart from the rest of the world. The thing with Eggsy is he becomes a Michelin star chef when he’s stressed out about something. And that ‘something’ could be small like he can’t remember if he told his beloved pug JB he loved him before leaving for a race, or it could be major like he was papped joining in a drunken pub fight and possibly jeopardized his whole career. It’s all or nothing with Eggsy, and since he’s known to get snappish when confronted with questions, there’s not much you can do until he decides to reveal his current crisis besides eat his delicious food and try not to let the increasing speed of your heartbeat induce a panic attack.

“So,” you begin in-between bites of chicken-and-avocado goodness, forcing yourself to actually chew and savor the tacos instead of scarfing them down like an animal. “I’m pretty sure Diana tried to kill me today.”

Across the small circular kitchen table you found at a local thrift store, Eggsy snorts with amusement. “You say that like you haven’t accused her of murder a dozen times before.”

“She threw a dumbbell at my head.”

“You probably deserved it.”

You’re tempted to throw an avocado chunk at him, but it’s too good to sacrifice and instead you settle for silently glaring at him.

His answering smile is a mere shade of his usual mischievous grin, and he looks back down at his plate, poking at the contents with a fork. 

Leaning forward, you fix your expression into one of casual nonchalance, not letting any of your bubbling concern leak through in the lines around your eyes or mouth. “You sticking around for the whole weekend with me or—?”

He looks at you then, the first noticeable flicker of nervousness on his face. “Shit, I forgot to ask if you were free, didn’t I?”

“Well, yeah, but,” you’re quick to hold up a calming hand before he does anything stupid like run out the door, “it’s cool, Eggsy. We can hang out tomorrow after training. Or you could totally come along—I’m sure Diana would love another victim to bully around.”

“Thanks,” he says, scratching at his jawline and going back to avoiding direct eye contact. “I’ve got a few calls to make tomorrow though, so…” A small shrug of his shoulders. “Plus, I think Charlie might feel a little betrayed if I went to another trainer. He’s the jealous type.”

You chuckle as you reach for your water bottle, imagining the older Brit stomping his foot like a toddler who’s been forced to share his favorite toy. 

“Statesman asked me to join their team next season.”

You promptly spit out your drink, eliciting a disgusted complaint from across the table, and manage to ask in-between pained wheezes, “What?”

“Van Chance also asked if I’d be their reserve driver.”

“Eggsy,” you gape at him, brain struggling to catch up with the back-to-back bombshells.

He buries his face into his hands. “I know.”

“What the fuck.”

“I know,” he’s on the verge of whining now, peeking at you through the gaps of his fingers.

You start to smile, only for it to falter when you realize how positively unexcited he looks at the amazing news. Like he’s two seconds away from crawling under the table and curling into the fetal position.

“Is this…” You tilt your head, hesitantly asking, “Is this not good news?”

Eggsy lowers his hands, leveling you with an incredulous look. “This is the greatest fucking news of my whole life.”

“Then why the hell are you stress cooking in my kitchen?”

“It’s not stress cooking.” Eggsy shakes his head, scoffing just a little too loudly. “I just cobbled this together with stuff from your fridge, it’s no big deal—”

“Eggsy,” you interrupt, voice calm but firm. “I know for a fact the contents of my fridge did not contain six chicken thighs or corn tortillas or avocados when I left for the gym this morning. Face it, buddy, you stress shopped and then you stress cooked.”

There’s a second where it looks like his stubbornness is going to prevail, but it’s extinguished in the next beat, shoulders slumping with defeat. “Aw fuck.”

Aw fuck indeed.

Considering drivers aren’t supposed to talk to each other about these kind of deals—something something confidentiality is key blah blah legal jargon—it says a lot about Eggsy’s nervousness that he's come all this way to speak with you. It says a lot about your friendship, too.

Propping your chin on your hand, you softly ask, “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Eggsy lets out an explosive sigh, leaning back in his seat like a puppet whose strings have been cut. “I just don’t think I’m Formula One material,” he admits finally.

“What? Of course you are!” you exclaim.

“I’m not like all those guys,” he argues. “I haven’t won a Formula championship.”

“Neither have I.”

“Yeah, but you’re—” he waves a hand, vaguely gesturing.

It takes a second for understanding to sink in, and when it does you immediately bristle, temper flaring. “A woman? Are you seriously suggesting I only got into F1 because of my–”

“What? No! No,” Eggsy denies vehemently, eyes widening, reaching out a hand to grip onto your wrist, a reassuring touch. “That’s not what I was saying at all, I swear. I meant that you’re you, Oddball. It doesn’t matter if you’ve won a championship or not ‘cause you’re twice as much of a badass as any of them.”

You take hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Damn right I am,” you agree, trying to get him to laugh or at least crack a smile. “And you need to give yourself more credit. You deserve a seat in F1 just as much as the others do. It wasn’t some random fluke two teams reached out with contracts.”

His mouth twists, unconvinced. “But what if it was though? What if the only reason they reached out is because of the 1% chance I’ll beat Ben in the final round and when I don’t do that they dump me on the fucking curb?”

“Then they’re absolute dicks.”

Eggsy’s frown deepens. “I’m being serious, Odds.”

“So am I,” you say. “If they can’t see your talent then fuck ‘em. It’s as simple as that.”

He stares at you for a moment, the little pinch between his eyebrows indicating he’s thinking about your words, turning them round in his head. 

“Also if you’re not there, then it’s just going to be me and Ben and you know we’ll drive each other mad.”

At last Eggsy smiles, rolling his eyes. “There it is. The real reason you want me to join. It was never about my talent as a driver, it was about my talent as a babysitter.”

You pinch your index finger and thumb together. “Only just a little bit.”

He playfully cuffs your jaw with the bumps of his knuckles. “Thanks, Odds,” he murmurs. 

“Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”

The Brit nods, only for his nose to suddenly scrunch up like he’s smelled something rotten.

“What?”

“No offense,” he begins, slowly leaning away, “but a shower would really benefit you right now.”

This time you don’t hesitate throwing an avocado chunk directly at his dumb face.

 _________________________________________________

HoloNet

November 2022 Latest News

Statesman confirms Eggsy for 2023 WWS - 45 minutes ago

Statesman has announced British driver Gary 'Eggsy' Unwin will drive for the team alongside Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels in 2023...

All F1 seats filled: Eggsy Unwin signs for Statesman Formula1Daily - 3 hours ago

Statesman team principal Jefferson Champagne said: "Eggsy has had a mighty impressive F2 season. We look forward to him joining us."

Future Statesman driver Eggsy Unwin's focus is on the F2 championship BBB - 5 hours ago

Eggsy says the recent announcement of his future F1 career is not going to distract him from the goal of beating Ben Miller at the upcoming final round of F2...

 _________________________________________________

PODCAST EPISODE

Javi Gutierrez Interview 2022

Off Track & Up Close with Sean Knox

Episode Description: This week I sat down and talked with Javi Gutierrez! Only 25 years old, Javi has learned several valuable lessons about life and racing throughout his career in F1. We started our chat reflecting on his rookie debut in 2018 with Crane (4:50), what he wishes he’d known before entering F1 (7:00), his strict training regimen (10:06), how he deals with the stress and pressure of the sport (16:34), and what insight he gained during his second season of F1 after he joined Black Gold (24:12). 

In the second half, Javi discusses his transfer from Black Gold to Triple Frontier (28:44), finding out Dave York was given his previously promised seat with Black Gold (32:58), the opportunity to join Vulpecula (35:19) and teaming up with rookie Oddball next season (38:30), his goals he hopes to accomplish as an F1 driver (40:40), and his advice for any young drivers out there who want to start racing (49:11). 

~

Sean Knox: You’ve signed with Vulpecula for next season. Congratulations! Always great news worth celebrating when a driver secures a seat. I gotta ask though, since it’s going to be your fourth team in your career, is it a good thing or a bad thing to flip flop around like that? 

Javi Gutierrez: It wasn’t something I expected to happen by any means. Most drivers will agree when I say you need at least two seasons to get fully used to a team—their strategies, their technology, the design of their cars. With Crane I only got one year, and essentially that’s what I’ve also had with Triple Frontier since it felt almost like I had to hit the ground running when I joined them during last year’s midseason. I had my personal best results the two and a half seasons I was with Black Gold because I had the time to become familiar with their dynamics. So, no, I don’t think it’s a particularly good thing, flip flopping around as you said, but I’m also extremely grateful for the opportunity to keep racing and improve my skills.

Knox: It must be such a relief then, having signed a two-year deal with Vulpecula from the start. 

Gutierrez: Immense relief, yes. I’m looking forward to it.

Knox: Maybe even snag your first podium with them?

Gutierrez: Fingers crossed.

~

Knox: For the first time in your career in F1, you’re going to be the #1 driver on a team. How does it feel, having that extra bit of responsibility being the leader? Do you feel ready for the role?

Gutierrez: I thought I would feel nervous, but strangely enough I actually feel pretty confident about it all. I’ve learned a lot over the years, especially how important it is to trust yourself, your instincts. I know what Vulpecula expects from me, and I believe I can get them the good results they want. 

Knox: Love the confidence, man. Love the positivity energy.

Gutierrez: It can be hard to cling to that. Frankie says I’m–what’s the word? Broody sometimes after a bad race. I can neither confirm or deny that. But when everything feels like it’s falling apart, it’s true even the smallest bit of positivity helps.

~

Knox: You have a good history of getting along with your teammates which can be a rarity in Formula One for some. First you were paired with Garin, then Indelicato, and now Morales. What about your future teammate Oddball? How well do you know her?

Gutierrez: We haven’t actually met yet. With how different and busy our current schedules are, there just hasn’t been a moment yet where our paths crossed beyond seeing glimpses of each other during the race weekends.

Knox: A couple weeks ago a video came out on social media of you waving at her after she hilariously called out Ben Miller in the middle of the paddock. That was–I’m assuming from what you just said–one of your first interactions with her?

Gutierrez: Yeah, it was. Frankie and Ben were getting to know each other, so when I saw her it just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment. 

Knox: You think your streak of amicable partnerships will continue with her or…?

Gutierrez: We’ll be spending a lot of time together these next few months preparing for next season, so I hope we’ll get along. I heard she’s a fan of Nicolas Cage which means we’ve already got one thing in common besides racing.

Knox: It’s like I always say, the best friendships in life are forged over a bowl of popcorn while watching Nick Cage do his thing. In fact, I’m calling it now: this time next year when we chat again, you two are gonna be joined at the hip. 

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Marcus Moreno

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There’s something magical about New York City during a race weekend. A buzz in the air you feel even beneath multiple layers of clothing warding off the frigid air. You like the skyscrapers and the bright lights, the eclectic masses of people everywhere you look, that there’s always something to do no matter the hour. Even if that ‘something’ this time around happens to be a party in the penthouse of some mega social media influencer you couldn’t pick out of a lineup to save your life.

“Krystal Kris,” Benny reminds you for the umpteenth time during the elevator ride. He uses the mirror on the cabin wall to check his appearance, running a hand through his hair to muss it up in a way you’ve heard him describe as ‘ruggedly debauched’. He notices your unsubtle eye roll. “All the teams have been invited to celebrate. Eggsy and Ricky texted they’re already there. I know you can’t drink yet, Miss Underaged Minor, but just try to have fun, alright?”

It shouldn’t be appealing to your inner introvert, living it up in some random girl’s home surrounded by a bunch of people you don’t know all that well, but it actually sounds kind of fun. Maybe it’s that NYC magic.

“I’ll give it a shot,” you say, a grin curling at the corner of your mouth.

“Awesome,” Ben says, looking as satisfied as a fat house cat.

The elevator opens directly into Krystal’s entry area and her penthouse is every bit as glamorous and extravagant as you imagined, decorated with an abundance of string lights and balloons. Somewhere a karaoke machine must be set up because you can hear the caterwauling notes of somebody attempting to sing a Queen song over the miscellaneous sounds of laughter and chatter from the seventy or so guests scattered about. Just about everybody seems to have a drink in their hand, some already halfway to three sheets to the wind.

You wade into the crowd, snippets of conversation and the smell of alcohol passing you by, overwhelming your senses. The happy, carefree atmosphere starts to sink into your bones, fills you up with excitement, makes everything seem twice as thrilling. You find yourself smiling for no real reason, and it grows when you see Eggsy lounging on the living room couch with Ricky, the latter talking animatedly with his hands even though he’s holding a drink, just one wild gesture away from sloshing its contents all over the floor.

Making a beeline for them, Ricky’s face lights up when he catches sight of you.

“You’re here!” Ricky crows with delight, cheeks a little flushed. He immediately scooches over against the arm of the couch, making just enough room for you to settle in-between him and Eggsy.

“We’re so glad,” Eggsy grumbles, twisting his body to find another comfortable position.

“Ben dragged me,” you reply, nodding towards where your friend is mixing some drinks together at the open bar. “Probably for the best. Somebody’s got to get his drunk ass back to the hotel later.”

Ricky takes a sip from his cup. “Krystal’s the perfect host. Stocked the bar with every kind of drink you could ask for.”

You perk up. “Even—”

“Yes, even non-alcoholic, good old-fashioned lemonade,” he interrupts with a knowing smirk.

Your night just improved tenfold. 

“Speaking of Krystal, where is she?” you ask, gaze drifting around the room, as if a spotlight will single her out. Most girls in the nearby vicinity are unfamiliar to you, probably models or other influencers hoping for a fun time and a chance to flirt with the drivers. Sure, there’s something inherently attractive about men in fast cars, but you also know firsthand just how profoundly stupid a lot of them can be when they’re not driving.

“Around,” Eggsy answers unhelpfully, proving your point exactly. You give him a flat look and he shrugs. “She’s literally bouncing all over the joint, documenting everything on her phone to impress her followers.”

“So be careful about pineapple faces then, got it.”

Pineapple face is, essentially, a resting bitch face except it’s 99% of the time made intentionally when you think somebody is annoying, stupid, or a combination of both. It also coincidentally happens to look like the same face you make when eating sour foods like pineapples, hence the moniker.

Ben appears in front of the couch then, carefully carrying two drinks at once. “Who’s doing a pineapple face?” 

“Your mom,” you say reflexively, reaching out to take the bottle of lemonade from his grip. Seriously, these boys know you so well you might as well live in each other’s pockets. He lets you take it with minimum fuss, only a mere disapproving tsk of his tongue for the lame comeback. 

You down almost half your drink in one sip, the burst of sourness pleasurably electrifying your tastebuds. You’ll never get tired of the lemony taste, bringing memories of childhood summertime afternoons to the forefront of your mind. Back to those calmer, simpler days without any responsibilities except your chores.

For the most part, you four spend the evening hanging out around the living room couch joking and sharing stories with each other. Ricky ropes Omar Assarian into the conversation at one point, who then in turn calls over Gio Bravo, but he only sticks around long enough to playfully knock Ricky’s hat off his head before disappearing back into the crowd. You remain seated comfortably on the middle cushion, manipulating Eggsy and Ben with your best puppy dog eyes to keep the lemonade supply flowing.

“Let’s play a game,” Ricky decides abruptly just as you check your phone screen, stunned to find you’ve been here almost two hours and the party’s still going strong.

“What do you have in mind?” Omar asks, looking half-tempted to play, half-tempted to make up an excuse to leave.

“Two truths and a lie,” is the decisive response, no room for counter suggestions. “If we guess the lie right, the person drinks. If we get it wrong, we drink.”

“Ah, what the hell, I’ll go first,” Ben says with a long-suffering sigh like it’s so hard being the center of attention. His brow scrunches up, thinking of what to say. “If I wasn’t racing cars, I’d want to be a professional boxer,” he starts with, and you know it’s true because he drunkenly confessed it the night of his birthday a few months ago and then proceeded to punch a hole in the wall of his brother’s house as if to prove himself. Good times, good times. “My favorite movie is Fast & Furious,” also true, “and I had all A’s before I dropped out of school.”

And that’s total—

“Bullshit,” Omar declares without hesitation, reading your mind.

“Mate,” Eggsy says through guffaws, “you texted me last week asking if psychology was a real word. No way in hell did you get high marks in school.”

Ben grumbles something that goes unheard, probably cursing the group’s existence, and takes a drink of his beer.

“I’ll go,” Ricky raises his hand eagerly. He starts listing off on his fingers, “I love donuts. I’ve never had a speeding ticket. And I write poems.”

“Everybody gets a speeding ticket,” Ben says. “Even Oddball, and she’s a goody two shoes.”

You stick your tongue out at him. You’d been rushing home to watch the finale of your favorite show, but did the police officer who pulled you over care about that? Nope. He gave you the longest thirty-minute lecture of your life on the dangers of speeding while he wrote you a ticket for going 40 on a 30 dusty back road. By the time you finally got home you’d missed the entire episode. Lesson learned the hard way.

“You tweet about poetry all the time,” Eggsy says. “And donuts are impossible to hate, so I’m going with the speeding ticket is the lie, too.”

Ricky smiles, that cherubic little grin of his where his eyes seem to sparkle, but something about it seems off. You rack your brain, trying to think of a memory of Ricky eating anything for breakfast other than yogurt, eggs, or oatmeal. He’s always been the strictest about his diet within your little group, rarely allowing himself even the smallest pieces of candy for a treat after a win. This night out is most likely the only one he’s allowed himself to indulge in this whole race season.

“You’re a donut hater,” you announce, pointing at him shamelessly.

Ricky throws his hands in the air, drink thankfully sitting safely on the table or else you’d have been showered in alcohol. “How? How did you guess that right?”

Ben gapes at him, as if he’s suddenly become a total stranger to him. “You’ve never got a ticket? For real, man?”

“Are you sure you’re a F1 driver?” Omar asks, just as equally incredulous.

Ricky attempts to weakly defend his spotless record against the rowdier boys, but their taunting persists, drowning him out. You decide to intervene when it looks like Ricky’s on the verge of sulking so hard he becomes one with the couch. Definitely a sight not worth the risk of Krystal filming, even if the other drivers find it hysterical.

“I had a pet womp rat as a kid,” you say, raising your voice to be heard over them fooling around. A couple of extra people in the room swivel their heads to look at you along with your friends and you feel the back of your neck prickle with heat. “I, um, my favorite show as a kid was Puzo the Tardigrade. And The Princess Bride is my favorite book.”

And it should be impossible, with all the lights and people and especially the karaoke shrieking, but you hear a voice from behind you utter an amused, “Inconceivable,” that has you immediately twisting around to see. You can’t help the reaction, anytime you hear someone quoting your favorite story, it’s like the words are a taser against your skin, lighting up every nerve ending all at once. 

Javi Gutierrez is standing behind the couch, carrying four beers fresh from the bar with large hands your eyes can’t help but notice, his fingers wrapped around the bottles’ necks. His eyes widen when he realizes you’ve heard him, shoulders twitching like he’s suddenly got a spotlight beaming down on him. 

Your mouth opens, to say what you’re not entirely sure. Hi would probably be the best place to start, or offering another Princess Bride quote might put him at ease enough to officially join the game. Or maybe—

“What the fuck is a tardigrade?”

Or maybe Ben fucking Miller has to ruin the moment.

“A water bear,” Ricky, the nerd, says just as you face forwards again.

“...A water bear?” Omar echoes, eyebrows arched so high they nearly disappear into his buzzed haircut.

“Yeah, you know,” Ricky flaps an unhelpful hand, “a moss piglet.”

Eggsy chokes on his drink, spraying Long Island iced tea all over your jeans, prompting you to screech and slap at his arm while he laughs himself to tears. Meanwhile Ben and Omar remain totally in the dark about tardigrades, staring at Ricky for a second time like he’s from another planet.

You’ll look behind the couch again later when the truth’s come out—no pet womp rats for you, just loth cats and the occasional frog—but Javi’s long gone. 

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“You actually look like you’re having fun in this one,” Gabriela teases, holding her phone in front of Javi’s face, showing off a photo of him, Frankie and some other drivers at Krystal Kris’ party. He’s pointing at something out of view, eyes screwed shut as he laughs hysterically, and his memories of the night are a little fuzzy around the edges but he thinks the photo was taken when Dieter Bravo drunkenly collided face-first with a wall.

He hums noncommittally. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Gabriela rolls her eyes at his stubborn reluctance to admit okay, maybe the party wasn’t as horrible as he thought it was going to be. The drinks were good, the company decent. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to hear Queen again without cringing at the memory of Nico Loro’s horrid efforts to impersonate Freddie Mercury though.

His PR agent is quiet for a bit, scrolling through Instagram’s slew of tagged photos and videos from last night. Then her movements abruptly pause, eyebrows twitching with the barest hint of surprise, so subtle Javi would have missed it entirely if he wasn’t looking at her face. He moves closer, tilting his head for a better look at what’s caught her attention.

It’s a short clip of him and Oddball—specifically, their little Princess Bride moment where she’d turned around on the couch and they’d engaged in a brief staring contest with each other. He remembers how she’d looked at him, with surprise and then recognition. He remembers she seemed like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t make up her mind. He remembers she was drinking lemonade.

The video is barely ten seconds long, not much to linger on in his opinion, but then he notices the view count has almost surpassed 500k and his eyes threaten to fall out of his head. 

Gabriela is still staring, expression inscrutable, and just when Javi thinks she’s going to watch it a million more times, all she says is, “You didn’t tell me Oddball was there.”

He leans back on his heels to better study her face, unsure from her tone what she’s feeling. “Yeah, I only saw her that little bit,” he answers. “She was hanging out with her friends, playing some kind of game.”

Gabriela finally continues scrolling, manicured finger tapping at the screen. Something about her silence makes his chest tighten, hair on the back of his neck prickling with unease. Surely she isn’t mad at him, right? No, he tries to assure himself. He’s seen her furious before, and when she’s angry the whole country knows about it, hearing her long-winded ranting from miles away. 

Something else is wrong here.

“Javi,” Gabriela starts, biting her lip, noticeably strange in the way she struggles to make eye contact. “You know I don’t like interfering in your personal life and it’s, uh, not exactly against the rules if you two were to—actually, I’m not sure if there even are rules since it’s not common yet, having a woman on a team. The FIA are always a step behind the current times,” she makes a face at that, “but it’s probably better for you, and Oddball, too, I imagine, since it’s her rookie season, that you and her don’t, um…”

She trails off, just looking at him, waiting expectantly, and Javi merely blinks back.

“That we don’t…what?”

Gabriela exhales a heavy sigh, glances away, seems to gather her wits, and when she looks back she’s back to her usual cool and collected PR manager self. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright, Javi? I like my job to be uncomplicated.”

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Speed Beasts Magazine

United States' Top Motorsport Weekly November 14 2022 Issue

In This Issue:

4. Badillo and Ballard join Formula E 6. Dornish Grand Prix speculations 9. A chat with Outer Rim Sports' Axe Woves 10. A chat with Statesman CEO Jefferson Champagne 14. Fan opinions on next season's circuits 15. Eggsy joins F1 22. Ahsoka Tano's advice for 2023's rookies 25. Formula 2 in 2023: who will be the next champion? 30. Be kind rewind: 1999 highlights and controversies 34. Why Van Chance is in desperate need of a win next season 40. Kingsgrave's new motorsport museum 45. What to watch this week 52. How well do you know F1 driver trivia? Test yourself!

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The alarm clock on your nightstand displays 11:50pm and no matter how much you toss and turn, your mind won’t shut off. 

Let it be noted, when you reach for your phone, giving up on sleep, you don’t intend to search for your future teammate on Instagram. It just kind of, sort of happens. One second you’re looking at your home feed, specifically of a picture of Ben hanging out at Triple Frontier headquarters, and the next your fingers are typing Javi’s name in the search bar. There he is at the top of the list with an official blue checkmark: javigutierrez53. 

He has a larger follower count than you, which, of course he does, because he’s been an official F1 driver for almost five years now, professional and—your eyes linger on his profile picture, dressed in his racing suit, curls sweaty and disheveled with one single strand dangling rebelliously over his forehead. Good lord, he really is like a piece of art come to life. How the hell is he real? It’s unfair, that’s what it is. Completely and totally unfair, because you’re going be photographed next to that man and while everybody’s oohing and awing over him (rightfully so), you’ll be standing there beside him looking like—like a—

Whatever is on the spectrum between a potato and a naked mole rat. That’s what you’ll be. Oh yeah, and make sure to add breasts to that mental image because lord knows that's the main thing people are gonna be looking at. Female driver, the press keeps calling you, like they’re gonna get in trouble for leaving the descriptive out. It’s accurate, sure, but is it really necessary to single you out from the rest of the grid just because you’re a woman? Once you’re in the car, you’re a driver, it should be as simple and indifferent as that. But alas, that’s not how the world works.

Who cares about your skills and accomplishments when there’s far more interesting details to gossip about like the clothes you wear and your dating history. 

Jokes on them ‘cause you’ve never even had a single boyfriend for them to analyze. Ha ha ha. Really, it’s so fucking hysterical being alone all the time. 

You shove those disparaging thoughts aside for another sleepless night, looking at some more of Javi’s photos with his family, with his PR manager, of him enjoying time off at home in Mallorca. Javi driving a speedboat. Javi cliffjumping. Javi showing off his collection of movie memorabilia (which, on second glance, appear to all be Nicolas Cage memorabilia and hell if your future teammate didn’t just gain another gold star in the how is he real column). 

Everybody keeps saying next season will be interesting—Vivian, the press, your friends, even your parents. And only now is it starting to sink in that Javi isn’t some famous person to read about and gawk at anymore. He’s your teammate. Your. Teammate. Somebody you’re going to be spending 99% of your time with these upcoming months, on and off the track, practically all day every day. Which means you’ve got to pull yourself together. Less ogling. More looking respectfully.

And, according to your sleep-deprived brain, step one of your new resolution is to quit stalking his profile and press the follow button. Because there’s nothing weird at all about following someone at—you look at the clock, immediately cringe—1 in the morning. 

That’s just…great. 

You throw your phone back on the bedside table with a groan. If your brain was awake before, it’s a live wire now, thoughts somersaulting and ricocheting. You wind up burying your face into your pillow, wondering how long it will take to smother your jittery mind into unconsciousness.

~

Within thirty minutes you’re a drooling and snoring mess of limbs starfishing on the mattress.

~

In the morning, you wake up to your blaring alarm and a notification from Instagram. You blink at it groggily, slow to understand what the small font is telling you, only to then sit up so fast you’re dizzy and seeing black spots when it finally registers. 

Javi followed you back.

And he liked your most recent post of Diana holding you in a headlock after you dared show up to the gym two minutes late, captioned: Anyone know where I can find a new trainer? This one has no chill. Even adding his own comment: if you like running for miles and being sprayed with a water gun, I’ll gladly give you @/carlos_scipio’s #. Just find me in the paddock and lmk 😉

A stupidly big grin spreads across your face and something inside of you, deep in the pit of your stomach, uncoils just a little bit. Next season is going to be interesting and challenging and scary, no doubt, but you’re starting to think it’s going to be pretty great too.

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Outer Rim Sports

F1 2023 entry list: Rookie numbers revealed By: Axe Woves / November 15 2022

The official 2023 F1 entry list was published last night by the FIA confirming the race numbers for the three rookies making their debut next season.

Vulpecula’s Oddball will be keeping her F2 number #13, Triple Frontier’s Ben Miller will race with #94, and Statesman’s Eggsy Unwin has chosen #98. 

All three numbers have been previously used by other drivers in F1 history over the decades. #13 last belonged to Gregor New, while David Portillo raced with #94, and Hal Packard used #98.

Here is the complete entry list:

Sunspear: 76 Marcus Moreno, 52 Nico Loro

Aurelac: 28 Ezra Green, 7 Ricky Hauk

Nevarro: 66 Din Djarin, 99 Cobb Vanth

Statesman: 34 Jack ‘Whisky’ Daniels, 98 Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin

Crane: 45 Pero Tovar, 19 William Garin

Vulpecula: 53 Javi Gutierrez, 13 Oddball

De Excelente Auto: 2 Javier Peña, 83 Steve Murphy

Black Gold: 40 Dave York, 35 Omar Assarian

Triple Frontier: 12 Frankie Morales, 94 Ben Miller

Van Chance: 42 Dieter Bravo, 41 Gio Bravo

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Wonder World Sports Football | Tennis | Golf | Olympics | US Sports | Motorsport

Formula One: Ricky Hauk, Oddball, Ben Miller, and more rising stars to watch

By Steve Trevor, WWS Wednesday November 16 2022

(Picture Gallery 1 of 6: The 2022 Formula One season is coming to an end. Once again, Marcus Moreno takes the lead over the rest of the grid. But in 2023, a collection of young drivers has the potential to shake things up…)

(WWS) — Next season will see the return of several well-established drivers on the grid, but 2023 also has the potential to be especially memorable due to the abundance of fledgling up-and-comers eager to make household names for themselves.

Including a young woman set to make history as the third female driver in F1 history, F2’s predicted 2022 champion, and Aurelac’s youngest driver in over a decade, here’s a closer look at some drivers I believe will have a tremendous impact on the sport.

Ben Miller - “My whole life changed with one text message”

Age: 21 Team: Triple Frontier 

(Photo : Ben Miller in mid-conversation with a Triple Frontier mechanic in the paddock garage, gesturing towards future teammate Frankie Morales’ car. Caption: Miller is the current lead for the F2 championship.)

“It hasn’t really sunk in yet that next season I’ll be on the grid with some of the fastest drivers on earth,” Ben Miller said after the announcement was made he’d been drafted for Triple Frontier next season.

Miller, one of three rookies joining in 2023, has quite an impressive record despite only being 21-years-old. Like most F1 drivers, he began his career by racing go-karts before going on to win the F4 championship in 2017. 

In the literal days following his victory, he drew interest from several team leaders in the motorsport community, but Santiago Garcia stood out from the rest by sending a text message asking for a meeting which would ultimately alter the course of Miller’s career.

“My whole life changed with one text message,” Miller told Speed Beasts Magazine. “It just seemed like a no-brainer to accept Santi’s deal.”

Miller, only 16 at the time, was offered a spot in Triple Frontier’s young driver program. With their training, he went on to place second in the F3 championship as a mere rookie and has so far come out on top over his competition in Formula 2 as well. 

“Triple Frontier has really helped my skills develop over the years. Being an official F1 driver for them is exactly what I want to be,” Miller told BBB following Triple Frontier’s announcement in October.

Ricky Hauk - “Whatever happens, happens”

Age: 21 Team: Aurelac

(Photo : Ricky Hauk smiles during the Romanian GP press conference. Caption: Hauk had an impressive debut season this year and currently ranks 12th.)

Aurelac, usually preferring experienced drivers on their team, has promoted 21-year-old Ricky Hauk to join Ezra Green in 2023. “One of the best days of my life,” Hauk said in a Twitter post.

The decision for Hauk to replace Pero Tovar is remarkable due to the fact he is the youngest driver to join the team since Fahr Sater in 2007. Aurelac CEO Damon McCall has stated Hauk’s impressive rookie season with DEA led to the surprising choice being made. Hauk finished fifth in the Chinese GP which was only his third race and has since earned 33 total points.

Hauk’s journey to F1 hasn’t been without personal struggles. He has spoken openly about being a victim of childhood abuse from his late father, as well as his experiences with verbal bullying from classmates during his high school years.

When asked about the pressure of joining Aurelac, the young driver didn’t seem overly concerned.

“There’s always going to be pressure in this sport,” he said in an interview with Formula1Daily. “I’ll just keep giving it my best shot behind the wheel and God will take care of the rest. Whatever happens, happens.”

Oddball - “I hope to be an inspiration for young girls everywhere”

Age: 20 Team: Vulpecula

(Picture : Oddball on podium holding a second place trophy at the British Formula 2 round. Caption: Oddball will be the youngest driver on the grid next season.)

READ: The young woman set to make Formula 1 history

Oddball will be making the jump from reserve driver into an official F1 seat for Vulpecula next March at the Australian Grand Prix. She will also be the only female competing on the grid and the third woman overall in the sport’s long history.

Vivian Etten, Vulpecula’s chief executive, has high hopes the young driver will help the team become a force to be reckoned with on the grid again. Expectations are high for Oddball to succeed alongside her future teammate Javi Gutierrez.

Oddball has competed in seven different junior motorsport categories and won first place championship in four. “I hope to be an inspiration for young girls everywhere,” she told reporters. “And to prove just as much as Ahsoka and Anita did that women have a place here in F1.”

(Picture Gallery 1 of 35: Marcus Moreno celebrates his tenth win of the season as the victor of the Florida GP over Din Djarin and Pero Tovar.)

Gary “Eggsy” Unwin - “I never back down from a challenge”

Age: 22 Team: Statesman

Eggsy Unwin is another rookie driver expected to have a big impact in 2023. “He’s finer than frog fur,” Jefferson Champagne has said of his new Statesman driver. “We believe he’s championship-material, bet on it.”

The 22-year-old will be Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels’ partner, an accomplished veteran of the sport who Champagne has said he still “expects big results” from next season. 

READ: Unwin’s “mind blown” to be drafted by Statesman

Unwin caught Champagne’s attention when he made headlines for usurping Oddball in the F2 ranking last month and claiming second place which is the highest a Kingsman driver has ever been in standings. He initially considered a deal being Van Chance’s reserve driver before Statesman approached him with an official contract to join their team.

“I’ve dreamed of driving in Formula 1 since I was little,” Unwin told BBB. “I’m absolutely over the f–ing moon to join Statesman in 2023.”

As one of the oldest teams in F1, Statesman has a prestigious reputation for producing top-notch drivers time and time again. Unwin is looking forward to the training sessions and, if all goes right on track, podium finishes.

“I never back down from a challenge,” he said. “And with how competitive this sport is, I’m going to look forward to a new challenge every race.”

Omar Assarian – “I’m only going to get better from here”

Age: 23 Team: Black Gold

Crowd-favorite Omar Assarian has been driving in F1 for two seasons now, making his debut with Vulpecula last year before joining Black Gold where he felt his “skills will be better appreciated.” And given his strong results this year (currently fifth in driver standings), fans and critics agree Black Gold looks to be a better fit for the young driver.

The 23-year-old will partner with returning F1 legend Dave York next season. York’s decision to come out of retirement resulted in a ripple effect heavily impacting the grid. Willem Ballard, Black Gold’s current number two driver, will be pushed out of the sport entirely after failing to secure a new seat, while Javi Gutierrez, who was initially promised Ballard’s seat by Black Gold’s CEO Maxwell Lord in the aftermath of his temporary transfer to Triple Frontier, has signed a new contract with Vulpecula for 2023.

“They know exactly what I need when I need it. When to offer advice and when to challenge me,” Assarian said to reporters after joining Black Gold.

Assarian’s debut season with Vulpecula was a rocky one due to multiple incidents of car trouble throughout the year. Although he did manage a third place podium finish at the 2020 Scottish GP, he ultimately came in eleventh in the driver standings. 

“I’m only going to get better from here,” he told WWS at the recent Texas GP in October. “Next year, the other teams better watch out.”

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FIA Thursday Press Conference November 17, 2022

Transcript of audio recording, ft. Pietro ALVAREZ (Vulpecula), Marcus MORENO (Sunspear), Oddball (2023 Vulpecula Driver), Ben MILLER (2023 Triple Frontier Driver)

Q: (Ginger Ale - Formula1Daily)

Pietro, how does it feel going into this weekend knowing it’s your final Grand Prix?

Pietro ALVAREZ: Right now I’m treating it as any other race. I’m looking forward to being out on the track, hopefully finishing high. Dorne is always a special time. If you ask me again on Sunday, the mood will definitely be different. It’s just not something I’m allowing myself to think too hard about at the moment.

Q: (Ginger Ale - Formula1Daily)

Are there any special memories during your years in F1 which stand out in particular?

PA: I’m fortunate to have the number of victories that I do, but more than those I’m going to look back on the people I’ve met and worked beside and shared my life with. I’ve been a part of this sport for almost twenty years, that’s a lot of time spent with some of the most talented and knowledgeable people on earth. I think they are what I’ll remember and miss the most.

Q: (Axe Woves - Outer Rim Sports)

Oddball, you’ve been busy preparing for your debut with Vulpecula next season and part of that preparation process has been working closely with Pietro. Will you be sad to see him leave? What has he taught you about the sport?

Oddball: Pietro has become a good friend and mentor so it will be sad no longer seeing him around the garage and HQ anymore. He’s taught me a lot about F1 and life as well. If I listed everything we’d be here for hours, but something in particular he told me that I wholeheartedly agree with is to make sure I’m enjoying myself. Yes, this sport is a tough job, and yes, it requires a heck of a lot of hard work, but at the end of the day it’s still possible to have fun. When the joy is gone, that’s when you know it’s time to move on.

Q: (Carolina Álvarez - El Tiempo)

Thank you, Oddball. Ben, of course it’s exciting news you’ll be racing for Triple Frontier next season, but first comes the Formula 2 championship. You’re in the lead by a large margin, but are you feeling any nerves at all?

Ben MILLER: Feeling any nerves? Definitely. Doesn’t matter how good the results are, I’ll always feel them. I’d be worried if I didn’t have them, to be honest. Anything can happen during a race. I’d love to win the title, but we’ll just have to wait and see how it goes.

Q: (Steve Trevor - Wonder World Sports)

Marcus, on the subject of Pietro’s last Grand Prix, will you miss competing against him?

Marcus MORENO: Of course. The whole sport will miss seeing him out there. He’s an absolute legend.

Q: (Steve Trevor - Wonder World Sports)

I’ll ask you both, Marcus and Pietro, since you’ve raced against him in the past, what are your thoughts on Dave York’s return to the sport?

MM: I think it’s great news, honestly. He’s extremely talented, and it’ll be exciting to see him on the track again. It’s a wonderful opportunity for him, not many drivers have the strength to get back into the pressure and grind of it all after leaving, so I hope it works out for the best.

Q: Pietro?

PA: Like Marcus said, York is an extremely talented driver. If his car’s performance is good and his skills are sharp, he’ll be an exciting one to watch next season. 

Q: (Carolina Álvarez - El Tiempo)

Pietro, what would you say are the chances of you returning out of retirement in a few years? Do you think it’s likely you’ll follow York’s footsteps?

PA: I haven’t even had one day of actual retirement yet, so it’s difficult to say one way or the other. I love Formula 1, always will. If I get bored in a few years or my family gets sick of me being around all the time…maybe I’ll make an attempt to come back. That’s all I can say. Maybe.

Q: (Carol Cobb - Speed Beasts Magazine)

Oddball, redirecting to your future with Vulpecula, could you talk about your plans for next season? Do you think it will be a smoother one than this year’s?

Oddball: Optimistically, I’m hoping so. Realistically though, it’s tough to say until I’ve actually driven the car. Everyone at Vulpecula is working hard to improve next season’s results, but progress is a marathon not a sprint. It might take a few races, maybe even a year or two, but my plan, and the team’s as well, is to just keep making positive steps and earning points until we’re back on top once more.

 _________________________________________________

Pietro catches up with you in the Vulpecula hospitality in-between media sessions, his third cup of coffee in his hand. “That was your first F1 press conference, wasn’t it, Oddball?” he wonders, taking a seat across from you. He smiles a little, just a faint crinkling of his eyes. “You did good.”

“Really?” You nearly drop your phone, text message to your mother temporarily forgotten. Pietro’s one of the most successful racers in the last decade. He’s not as grumpy as Tovar, but after this long in the sport few things surprise him anymore. Even fewer things earn his praise. “Thank you.”

He chuckles slightly like you’ve said something amusing, raising his drink to take a sip. The cup is engraved with his initials, a present given to him by Cobb Vanth last year during the F1 Secret Santa gift exchange. Almost every time you’ve been around the man, that cup hasn’t been far from his reach.

“I’ve never lied to you, Oddball.”

“I didn’t think you had,” you say slowly, frowning.

Another sip. Pietro crosses his legs at the ankles, leaning back in his seat without seemingly a care in the world. Meanwhile your shoulder blades are sharp, tense points beneath your shirt, waiting for him to continue.

“Everything you’ve asked me about cars and my career, how to find a balance between life and work, I haven’t sugar-coated my answers because I remember being a rookie,” Pietro explains, words smooth as velvet on his accented tongue. “However, for as much as I have to tell you, for as many tips as I can offer…we both know our paths will always be unique from each other.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. There are a dozen different meanings which can be applied to his words, but one stands out above the rest, floating in the air of the room, pressing uncomfortably against your skin. He’s a driver and you’re a female driver.

“People won’t ever let you forget you’re different, Oddball. They didn’t let Anita or Ahsoka forget either, even after all their triumphs. Talk, talk, talk is all these critics do all day long. And you know what I say to that?”

A deliberate pause follows.

“Encourage them.”

“Is…” Your brow furrows, a bitter taste on the back of your tongue. “Is that supposed to inspire me or something?”

He looks at you, dark eyes piercing. “Give them something to talk about, Oddball. Enjoy the process of making a name for yourself in this sport. Of making ripples in the pond. I came into F1 too late to race Anita, but I shared the grid with Ahsoka. I saw the spark in her eyes. Her determination. I thought she was one of a kind. That nobody else had even a smidge of her talent. And then I met you.” He points a finger at you, certainty brimming in his gaze. “Call it driver’s intuition, or perhaps the ramblings of an old man who’s hit a barrier one time too many, but I think you’re just the driver F1 needs to shake things up for the better. Those critics and other drivers won’t know what hit them next season.”

There’s an embarrassing stinging sensation behind your eyes, a sudden lump lodged in your throat making it hard to swallow. You attempt a smile, wobbly at the corners. “Thanks. That–that means a lot, especially coming from you.”

“It needed to be said,” Pietro replies, standing up and giving your shoulder a pat before heading for the stairs. And it’s the simple, blunt way he says it that makes you understand why he’s so well-respected in the racing community. Why the hole left behind in the wake of his retirement will be impossible to fill.

 _________________________________________________

Busy Bee Blog (BBB) - Vlog Post #63 Friday November 18 2022

Summary: Join me, Frankie Morales and Javi Gutierrez at the Dornish GP as we play a game of Mr & Mr.

The camera pans over the interior of the Triple Frontier hospitality before settling on a smiling Bee Castle. Behind her, Frankie and Javi sit back-to-back in chairs, heads turned to listen to her introduction. “Hello! Your Queen Bee is back again for another vlog and this time I convinced the Triple Frontier drivers, Frankie and Javi, to join me for a little game of Mr & Mr.” She turns to look at them. “Are you ready for some fun, boys?”

“With you? Always,” Frankie answers with a wink. 

Javi rolls his eyes, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘Get a room’ but the microphone on his shirt fails to catch it.

Bee’s cheeks redden, but she remains composed and professional. “This is the final race of the season. It’s also your final race as teammates before Javi leaves for Vulpecula. So I’m going to ask you some questions about each other and we’re going to find out how well you’ve gotten to know one another during your time together. Remember, we’re looking for matching answers.”

The camera zooms in on the paddles in Frankie and Javi’s hands. Pictures of their faces have been glued to either side for the game. Javi holds his paddle up, mimicking the expression of his photo by sticking his tongue out.

“Let’s do it,” Frankie says, twirling his paddle between his fingers. “I’m looking forward to the win.”

“Yeah, because you know so much about my life,” Javi scoffs.

“Shots fired,” Bee smirks at the camera. “And on that note, let’s begin. We’ll start with an easy one. Who has the most laps?”

They both seem to think about it, but end up agreeing it’s Frankie.

“Correct. Great start so far.” Bee nods. “Everybody knows about your mutual love for snow cones. Who has the best taste when choosing a flavor?”

Javi and Frankie immediately hold up their paddles with their own faces displayed. Bee makes a buzzing sound at the mismatched response, prompting Frankie to twist his head to look at his teammate’s paddle, eyes widening with surprise.

“Are you serious? You pick the absolute worst flavors.”

“And you always pick lavender bubblegum,” Javi counters, reaching backwards to swat at the other man’s arm. “How is that having better taste?”

“Because it’s always good!”

“Agree to disagree.” 

“Guess we’ll have to take our favorite reporter with us next time so she can see for herself if I’m right.” Frankie shoots Bee a flirtatious grin, prompting another blush to appear while her camerawoman laughs quietly as she films the two.

Bee looks down at her cue cards, asking, “Who is a better driver off the track?”

Javi chuckles, holding up his picture without hesitation. “No doubt about it.”

“He picked himself, didn’t he?” Frankie asks, aiming for disgruntled but missing by a mile, barely fighting back a smile.

“Because it’s true!” Javi crows, waving his paddle in the air enthusiastically.

“Who would win in a fight?” Bee wonders, hiding her grin behind her cards.

They take a second to think about it, flipping their paddles back and forth indecisively. 

“Here’s the thing,” Javi begins, humor creeping into his voice. “I can throw a punch as well as the next guy, but I also know Frankie used to get into a lot of fights when he was younger in McDonald’s parking lots, so…”

“First of all,” Frankie manages to say through his chuckling, pointing a finger, “it was Wendy’s not McDonald’s. And second, man, you couldn’t even kill a fly the other day, what the hell makes you think you could ever take me in a fight?”

Javi slowly turns his paddle around, displaying Frankie’s image. “He makes a good point.”

The camera manages to catch Frankie’s quiet snort before he hides his face behind his paddle.

Bee’s stare lingers on him a second longer than necessary, expression soft, before she reads aloud the next question. “Who’s more likely to fall asleep in a team meeting?”

“Oh, Javi, for sure. 100%,” Frankie answers, paddle lifted before Bee’s even finished speaking.

She laughs. “Does Vulpecula know about this problem?”

“No, because it’s not a problem. It only happened one time,” Javi complains. He aims an irritated look directly at the camera. “ Once , and he’ll never let me forget it!”

“Alright, final question,” Bee says, schooling her smiling expression into one of exaggerated seriousness. The two men mimic her, eyebrows drawn low and lips pursed. “Who…is a bigger fan of BBB?”

Frankie’s out of his seat in the next blink, wrapping Bee in his arms and swinging her around in a hug with her feet off the floor. “Me!” he exclaims over the sound of her giggling.

In the background, Javi tosses his paddle in the air, pretending to be upset at the loss.

 _________________________________________________

 _________________________________________________

Ben holds the Dornish Grand Prix trophy up over his head, tears streaming down cheeks, smile stretched so wide across his face there’s no other word for his expression other than absolutely ecstatic. After all his hard work and training and sacrifices, he's officially the 2022 Formula 2 Champion. 

You stand at his side on the second-place podium, wearing a matching grin and proudly holding up your own trophy. It doesn’t matter you didn’t win the champion title. This—this feeling of breathless jubilation, of shaky knees and the thunderous applause of the crowd—it’s more than enough. (Although, you gotta admit, reclaiming your second place in the standings does make this occasion all the more sweeter.)

Somewhere down there amongst the sea of spectators and the familiar faces of your fellow F2 drivers and members of your team, you know Eggsy’s cheering his head off for you and Ben. He didn’t podium, crossing the finish line fourth, but the amount of points puts him third in the standings and you can’t imagine the season ending any other way than with you and your boys on top. 

God, it’s crazy the year’s almost over. Even crazier how much has happened these last few months.

2022 will end with the three of you conquering F2. 2023 will begin with the three of you ready to do it all over again on the grid of F1. New tracks, new challenges, new responsibilities. Facing off against the best of the best, each one chasing after the same ultimate dream.

Ben slings his arm around your shoulders, crushing you against his side so tight it’s like he’s trying to make you one entity. You lean into him, the top of your head beneath his jaw, and a single thought drifts through your mind right before you’re blinded by a ripple of camera flashes: I can’t wait.

#javi gutierrez x reader #javi g fanfiction #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez #javi g x you #javi gutierrez x you #my fic #my writing #pedrostories #javi gutierrez fanfiction

[livesinyesterday]

Manhunt (2024) ep 6 reactions [spoilers]

Show: Mentions the trial where Stanton and Lincoln first met Me: HELL YEAH! Omg they at least mentioned it :D Show: Has Stanton mention Abe wearing women's clothes Me: ....excuse me?? If this is a reference to the Baltimore plot, Lincoln did NOT wear women's clothing. He wore a general disguise that involved something like a felt cap and a scarf. People mocked him for sneaking into the capital not for dressing like a woman. I guess technically a handful of anti-Lincoln myths spread that he had dressed as a woman to sneak into DC but even the illustrations you see mocking him in newspapers tended to depict him in a ridiculous men's outfit looking cowardly rather than dressed in women's clothing. Meanwhile you can see a number of illustrations of Davis being arrested dressed in his wife's clothes.

Like I get the intention behind the line, they are trying to draw that comparison between the treatment of Lincoln and the actions of Davis but I think it just falls oddly to me. I feel like maybe a call back to the scene from earlier episodes where Lincoln was arguing with Stanton about letting people like Davis go free after the war would have been more powerful here. A "I told him these men were dangerous" type moment. Show: Includes Stanton wanting the body thrown in the water so there can be no shrine to Booth Me: yesssss. I am so glad they have this in here

Other Thoughts: I don't love the choices they made with having the Garrett daughter be a fan and supporter of Booth and having this pseudo flirtation between them. Accounts show that the whole Garrett family was home, not just the daughter, and the Garretts did not know who Booth was. He was introduced to them by a different name and were told he was a wounded soldier returning home. Some accounts say that the Garrett's became suspicious that Booth and Herold were horse thieves and that is why they made them sleep in the barn and locked them in.

However the scenes IN the barn with Booth and Herold were great. Loved David's "and what did your hands accomplish" and loved Booth's story about his mother, they were just well done well acted scenes. I appreciate that they also included that Booth sent David out saying "this man is innocent of the assassination", which he really did and their take on why is an interesting one (because we'll never really know why Booth did that). And depicting Booth suffocating on his own blood and saying "useless, useless' is pretty close to what accounts say happened and I think they did a great job with that. WHERE. WAS. LINCOLN.??? I so thought we were going to get another flashback during the conversation between Stanton and David Herold about friends but nothing??? Like I appreciated Stanton's line "If you had warned us, my friend would still be here" but this was your chance for a SCENE, show. Also, I don't know how I feel about the idea of Stanton being the one who removed the pages from Booth's journal. It is true that many pages are missing, most historians I have read believe Booth removed them himself but we don't know. It is interesting, I guess, to think of the possibility that someone like Stanton could have tampered with it. OVERALL I enjoyed the episode, but the show continues to make some choices where I am just like "oh...huh?"

#manhunt #manhunt spoilers #thinky thoughts

[queerxreader]

Loki Goes to The Lobby

Loki x Movie Theatre Employee M!Reader

Summary: AU where the MCU has its own release of “Avengers” in 2022. Y/N meets Loki during opening night.

Author’s Note: Loki is written as genderfluid and referred to as he/they. This is the first chapter to a possible series and I plan to further explore Loki’s flexible pronouns.

Chapter 1: Opening Night

It was chaotic. People loved superhero movies, and everytime one was released the first few days the theatres were packed like sardines, lines out the door. Today was one of those days. The new “Avengers” movie was premiering at your small town theatre, and it had brought out almost everyone in the town. The movie was based on the true events of the 2012 Battle of New York, in honor of the 10th year anniversary of said battle. If you could call it honor. You kind of hated the fact that this company was glorifying the real trauma of citizens and the Avengers themselves. You’d think the company would have consulted the Avengers and let themselves tell their stories.

It was whatever though, people loved the Avengers and they’d enjoy whatever shlock was thrown on the big screen. It was already really loud but this one moment the doors opened and a cacophony of excitement spread amongst the customers in line. In between orders you tried to crane your head to see what all the fuss was about, but to no avail the crowd was too big of a swarm. The loudness eventually died down as customers made their way to their auditoriums. Finally you saw what was causing the ruckus. The actual Avengers in your small town theatre. Just your luck they were in your line. Thor, the massive God of Thunder, himself strutted up to your register. His deep voice practically boomed like the thunder he conjured.

“Alright, I’ll have 3 of your largest popcorns extra butter all throughout, 4 large sodas, 2 sprites and 2 lemonades, a cherry freeze thingy, and uh.. that’s it for me,” he turns slightly to his fellow warriors, “and what do you all want?” He chuckles heartily as they laugh with him, you notice his infamous brother is along with them, Loki.

Loki looked clearly annoyed by the cheerful bunch of friends, despite looking annoyed you note he also looks quite handsome in casual clothes, or well what you assume is casual for him. He wore a black leather jacket, black long sleeve v-neck and tight black leather pants, to top it all off he had some glimmers of gold jewelry and a thin forest green scarf hanging on his neck. As much as people hated him, they had to admit the androgynous man had some fashion sense.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what brings you all here to our lil’ theatre?”

Steve chimes in, “Well Bruce and I aren’t big fans of crowds, so we figured we’d make a bit of a drive to somewhere quaint but, I guess this movie is popular everywhere.”

You shrug, while continuing to prepare their order, “yeah I guess so, people just seem to love heroes, and all y’all.” You notice Loki’s uncomfortableness with the statement. You lean a bit on the counter while handing the heroes their drinks, “which of the order is yours, Loki?”

He looked at you confused, you must’ve been the only person to talk to him that night besides the Avengers. He clears his throat, “I don’t want anything,”

“Ah, come on, it’s a long movie.”

“I don’t even want to see this movie.. Do you have water?”

“Yeah!”

“I’ll have a water, then”

“Okay, I’ll add it on the order,”

Thor snorts, elbowing his brother, “oh come on live a little, do you have mead?”

“No, we’re not that type of theatre” you laugh while grabbing the water for Loki out of its fridge.

When you return to your register you hand the water to Loki, your fingers brush against his as he takes the bottled water into his hand. You feel your heart jitter from the slight touch. You hope and pray they don’t see your nervousness.

It felt like it was longer than a minute but the moment went away as quick as it came, “thank you, dear,” he calmly said smiling.

You fumble to finish the long order, your co-workers grinning and chatting up respective avenger members. You notice, Tony handing big bills to your fellow employees, you hope once he pays he’ll give you a tip too, this job only pays so much after all. You attempt to chat up Loki but Captain Steve Rogers interrupts, “I see theatres still sell hot dogs!”

You look over at it, “yeah, you want one?”

“No, not for a movie.” Steve waves off the offer.

You and one of your co-workers laugh, “yeah you get it.. we- we have this joke that your life has to have gone pretty downhill to buy a hotdog at the movie theatre.”

Just then you see an awkward man with a five o clock shadow and purple button up sprinting to the counter, “oh good! You’re not finished ordering!” He got a little closer to the counter, you figured out who it was, Bruce Banner. You assumed he had hid out in the bathroom to avoid an anxiety attack. You’ve been there that’s for sure, so you understood. After steadying his breathing he points to the menu. “Can I have a hot dog and a uhm..water?” You notice his face and hair is kind of damp from what you assume was where he splashed his face with water to cool him down, you didn’t comment on it though.

You smile awkwardly exchanging a look with Steve who attempts to casually go stand away from Bruce so as not to laugh. You see Loki looking down at the floor trying not to laugh, another jitter to your heart. You look away from the raven haired God to remain composure.

“Yes of course, dude!” You walk over swiftly to catch his hot dog off the warm roller. Loki notices you fidgeting with the plastic gloves and you swear you see his tongue graze against the inside part of his lip as he softly laughs at your small frustration.

“Struggling?” He asks through a laugh.

“Yes! I hate these stupid gloves. They’re so awkward and I can’t grab anything!”

You see him wiggle his fingers a bit and the gloves suddenly aren’t complicated and fit nicely.

You look at the gloves and then to him, your brow arching, “thanks?” You continue preparing Bruce’s hot dog.

“Don’t mention it, hey, is that ice cream?”

“Yeah, you want some?”

“Maybe later,”

You hand the hot dog to Bruce, and continue ringing up orders. “A-Anything else for you guys?”

Natasha looks, “no I think we’re all good! Thank you all so much!”

“Aw no, thank you guys! Okay so, who’s paying?”

“That.” Tony walks up sliding a solid metal black card on the counter. “Would be me.”

You swipe the card, and begin to hand Tony the receipt and Natasha the tickets. “Can you sign here”

“Of course you want a autograph,”

“Uh no, I just need it cause the total was more than 100 dollars.”

“Right right right.”

Tony slides the tiny signed receipt to you with some large bills underneath. “That’s for you,”

“Wow, thank y’all so much, I hope you have a good night!”

They all thanked you one last time, and Bruce especially calmly speaks to you “Yet again, thanks for treating us like people and not.. some superstars.”

“It’s no biggie!” You lean a little on the counter to whisper to the awkward man, “by the way over by the arcade is a single bathroom so if you need to get away from people for a moment.. it’s right over there.”

He smiles breathlessly, “thanks!”

You watched as Loki left, and good god those pants accentuated everything, you called out to the group of heroes, “y’all enjoy your movie!“

You hear Loki instinctively respond “you too!” followed by Thor laughing and Loki calling back out “I mean!— ugh- Good night, Y/N!”

You laugh back at him, “good night, Loki!”

You smiled standing behind the counter at the finally empty lobby, you now could rest. Well, rest as much as you could with a smile beaming from such an amazing interaction with those Avengers. You felt your heart racing from the few words you shared with Loki. At first you were really intimidated by him but after he had the awkward ‘you too’ moment, you couldn’t help but feel maybe you intimidated him. You couldn’t stop smiling as you cleaned behind concessions.

One of your coworkers snickers at you, “you and Loki huh—“

“Oh what— oh yeah he, he was nice.”

“Next time he comes out you gotta ask him out.”

“What?! No way a guy like them would ever consider me worth their time.”

“Dude. He was so into you! You have to get their number.”

“I doubt he even has a phone but good idea!”

—

As the Avengers discussed how nice the staff was, Loki was silent. Loki walked past the theatre numbers, glancing at the movie posters. Natasha, while opening the door to their theatre said “that guy that rang us up was really sweet” Thor boisterously laughed at her statement, wrapping his arm around his brother’s shoulder shaking him in an accidental forceful way, “And Loki was quite sweet on him!”

Loki scoffed, loudly whispering while pushing Thor’s arm off of him “can you not announce it to the whole theatre!”

Clint interrupted, “it was pretty cool he talked to you, most people don’t.”

In a sarcastic tone, Bruce adds, “well they’re all probably still scared about the thing in New York”

Loki rolled his eyes and glared at Bruce, returning the sarcasm “you really think so, Bruce?”

They make it to their seats, and the movie begins. Halfway through the movie however, Loki gets tired of being reminded of one of his biggest regrets and decides to get some fresh air. The fresh air though was simply walking out of the theatre and back into the lobby. He did finish his water rather quickly, most likely drinking it during every awkward reminder of his past. He wanted to see that cute employee again, he really wondered why he spoke to him and treated him so nicely. And it wasn’t even a fake nice like he’s seen before it felt.. genuine.

“Hi, I'm back!”

“Ah, not enjoying the movie?”

“Not really no, that and I need another water.”

You grabbed another water bottle out of the fridge and turned back around to see Loki patting at his pockets, “Augh! I forgot to snatch Tony’s card!”

You giggle and scoot the water to him, “here it’s on the house,”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Please, I insist.”

“Ah well it seems you’ve convinced me.”

You laugh together for a moment, and he sighs sadly. It looks like something was bothering him. You press your luck and ask him what’s wrong. “You alright?”

“Yeah, no. Um. I’m just worried the movie will spark old feelings in people and I just. I get so tired of people hating me, like on one hand I mean I deserve it I guess after what I did but no one seems to recognize that I’ve gotten better! And I’ve helped the Avengers, and I’ve helped save the day countless times but all people can see me as this attempted dictator who tried to take over New York, and then Earth.”

“But you saved Asgard!.. Well, the citizens of Asgard! And-and You helped fight Thanos right? Didn’t you fool him into thinking you were dead, made a dramatic entrance while joining the fight in Wakanda, even got some real good damage in? I think it’s cool that you’re working on yourself, and it takes time you know?”

Loki nods, he attempts to change the subject but all he can think of is that movie. “Have.. have you seen it yet?”

“I’ve caught some of it! Not enough to really catch the plot but I think I know most of what happens,”

“Yeah..” Loki breathes softly, fiddling with the cap to his water bottle, “I did enjoy the casting choice for me though, Matt Damon is doing a great job!”

“I agree he was a pretty good choice for you, though I do have to say, he doesn’t compare to the real thing.” Loki’s eyebrows raise and you realize what you just said right to his face. “I— um, I just mean—“

“I’m glad you can see my superiority to Mr. Matt Damon.” You were grateful Loki didn’t get creeped out by your declaration of attraction. But Loki continued on with his statement, “He is quite handsome, but more so am I, and even much more, you.”

“You think I’m handsome?” You felt your cheeks get warmer, you knew he could see you blushing.

His beautiful grin said it all, he looked you up and down smirking while admiring your features, “I do, yes.”

Loki rested his elbow on the counter, looking elegant and cool all at once. “When do you get off work?”

“That. Is a good question,” you turn to face your manager who had been standing behind concessions listening while doing paperwork.

Your manager immediately answered you, offering to allow you to leave early with a subtle wink towards you.

“Why do you ask, sir?”

“The Avengers and I are going out for dinner after this, and I was wondering if you’d keep me company?”

“You want me to keep you company?”

“Yes, my darling.” You felt that same jitter in your heart as earlier, Loki really just referred to you as darling.

“You don’t have to. I just enjoy talking to you, that's all.”

You smile genuinely at him, “I enjoy talking to you too, Loki.”

#loki x reader #loki x m!reader #loki x male reader #queer reader #mcu reader insert #genderfluid loki #genderfluid loki x reader #loki goes to the lobby

[high-dragon-bait]

I love your banters with Fenris about bby Eshana and it's made me curious: Do you have a headcanon about her you haven't had a chance to share before, but would like to share now? *chinhands*

Oh. You don't know what you just asked

Eshana doesn't have headcanons. She has an entire novel-length sidestory. A wholeass canon just for her that you have given me the excuse to fully spill here to the best of my ability.

Note: This story only exists in the true canon, aka the canon of my and @widogastswebofwords combined playthroughs. They roleplay their protags on their blog along with some other muses and have a google doc linked explaining more about them! I adore them, they are my children

This, with all the brevity I can muster, is Eshana's story.

Her story takes place ten years after her mother, Avis (My Hawke) has died. She is sixteen, memories of her mother are scattered and broken, she lives in Kirkwall with her father, Fenris, and four years ago, she discovered she was a mage.

Since she was about eight, Fenris started sending her to live with her uncle, Avery (Snow's Hawke), in the summers while he went off and did Blue Wraith things. Avery lives in Antiva with his wife, Josephine Montilyet, and their three daughters Malina, Delilah, and Rosalie. Eshana loved these trips, she loved Antiva, she loved her uncle, and loved being the "cool older cousin" to his kids.

When her magic was discovered this arrangement carried the added bonus of magical training as Avery is also a mage, making Eshana even closer with her uncle, and creating a very sharp contrast between how he deals with her magic, and how her father deals with it

Fenris struggles with Eshana's magic. Avis' death reverted his views on magic drastically. Act one of Dragon Age 2 drastically even PAST that level if it's possible. Magic is now this horrifically dangerous thing that has taken every possible good thing in his life, and now, it is tied to his daughter

Don't get confused, Fenris loves her. He loves her more than anything. He sees her as now in danger from the one thing he cannot protect her from, the thing that ruined his life, stole his memories, killed his wife, and now, like some horrible joke it wants his daughter too. He will not let that happen. It will not have her

But, all Eshana sees is the father she was once so close to suddenly becoming icy. Suddenly criticizing her for nothing. Suddenly seeming to want to suffocate her and keep her at a distance. In the four years since her magic appeared, their relationship crumbles.

Finally, this culminates in Eshana setting a copy of The Tale of the Champion on fire in her bedroom and nearly injuring herself trying to put it out before Fenris discovers it.

Fenris discovers it

The two have a massive argument. The worst they've ever had. Fenris decides she's out of control tells her she will not be going to Avery that summer. She will stay with him. Furious, Eshana rebukes by screaming in his face "I wish Avery was my father!"

And that. Is the breaking point my friends

They part in silence and Eshana races back up to her half-burned room as what she said slowly dawns on her. She decides fuck it, if he won't let her go to Antiva, she'll find her own way

She steals fifty sovereigns from her room, her mother's scarf, tearing it it half and leaving the other piece behind, and a dull knife, and she leaves out her bedroom window under the cover of night.

She bribes her way onto a cargo ship, bound for Antiva, lying about her identity to the captain, who agrees to let her aboard if she agrees to work. She does, and they take her

Eshana realizes the gravity of what she's done pretty much as soon as they can no longer see land. She finds herself watching the sun, imagining her father, somewhere in the city as the day passes. What he might be doing by now. She imagines him relieved, glad to have his mage-daughter gone

But, the captain's intentions are were not pure. See, he's deep in dept to the Crows, running out of time to pay it off and backed into a corner. Then, this random street girl shows up with 50 sovereigns worth of stolen coin, not enough to fully pay the rest of his debt but it's something. The girl herself however... she might cover the rest.

Nearly the moment they dock in Antiva the Captain, who Eshana had confided in some and told she was looking for her uncle, while still not revealing her true identity, kidnaps her. He lures her in by claiming he will help her search for this uncle, and then binds her and takes her to the Crows.

He does make it to the Crows, and offers her to them along with all the other bits of treasure he's scraped up to pay off his debt. Their leader, Zevran, takes one look at this offering of a living teenage girl and decides letting this captain ever live was a mistake. He tells him the Crows no longer take recruits in this manner, and kills him, right there on the road.

Zevran stands her up, unbinds her, and asks her who she was and where she's going. She... lies to him. Tells him her name is Bethany and she has no where to go. So, Zevran offers to take her with him, just for a time, until she finds something to do with herself

There's more! But that's about all we have in detail. Don't worry it DOES have a happy ending and Fenris and Eshana are reunited again. The whole thing takes place over about a year and is entirely from Esha's point of view, so Fenris would really only be in it at the beginning and the end, with maybe a few flashbacks sprinkled in.

I know how Fenris might sound here but he really is a scared parent who is not perfect taking care of a scared girl who is not perfect. Their relationship is messy but ultimately grounded in love, and they would mend their relationship after the events of this side-story. Here's a tiny bit of dialogue between Eshana and her uncle when she finally goes to him after being missing for months on end

Eshana: When I left, I knew I wouldn’t stay. You'd just send me home… I didn’t want to stay.

Avery: So, why did you come?

Eshana: I wanted to scare him. I wanted him to miss me and want me back. 

Avery: He did. 

It lives in my head all the time, rent free :)

#Dragon Age #my dragon age #FenHawke #Fenris #Eshana Hawke

[cecilysass]

The Boy on the Beach (12/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging@today-in-fic

Chapter 12: The Dam Breaks Open Many Years Too Soon

The soundtrack for this chapter is Brain Damage, by Pink Floyd, from their 1973 album The Dark Side of the Moon. This album would spend one week at #1 on the Billboard charts in April 1973, but it’s famous for holding the record as being the album with the longest run on the Billboard 200 chart, 937 weeks, from 1973-1988.

November 27, 1973 Chilmark, Massachusetts

Only an hour had passed, according to the boy’s wristwatch. It felt longer.

There had been no more footsteps from below. She heard only birdsong. The irregular rise and fall of the wind, rattling the dried leaves still in branches. Samantha’s inhale and exhale. The boy’s interminable squirming.

Now that her adrenaline had diminished, Scully could feel the deep aches starting in her muscles, the effects of the crash. Her neck had seized up. Her rear end hurt from sitting on the curve of the branch, too.

The boy sat with a leg dangling on either side of the branch, his eyes dark as he restlessly peeled pieces of bark off the tree. Every once and a while he looked up at Scully, or over at his sister. She could tell he wanted, badly, to talk.

Samantha was leaning against the trunk, her eyes closed. Scully wasn’t certain if her ankle was a sprain or a mild fracture — she would like to confirm it at a hospital — but she wrapped it with a section of the scarf she found on the Greyhound bus, an imperfect compression bandage. They propped her foot on the duffel bag for elevation, and now Samantha was breathing evenly, possibly asleep. Scully made the boy loop his belt around the girl’s wrist and an adjacent branch, just in case Samantha began to slump over.

“We should probably try to move again soon,” Scully said to the boy.

He looked up at her, interested.

“We’ll let Samantha sleep a little longer. Then we’ll try to stick to the woods, stay out of sight. We’ll walk towards the ferry, and maybe we can eventually steal another car. There are other houses along here that are vacation places, right? We might be able to find another car.”

The boy nodded. Pressing his lips together, a small dent between his eyebrows, he appeared to be thinking about something.

“Are you okay, Fox?” she asked.

He didn’t answer right away. She waited, feeling a pang of concern.

“I was thinking,” he said quietly, “that you could stay here.”

“In the tree?”

“No,” he said. “In 1973. Once this is done.” He wasn’t making eye contact with her. He was looking intentionally away. This artfulness made him seem older; it made him seem more like her Mulder.

“If you stayed here,” the boy added, “then in ten or fifteen years or so, I could join the F.B.I., and we could still be partners. You wouldn’t be so old. It could be the same. The same as you remember.”

She didn’t say anything, the irony and poignancy of the situation threatening to swallow her up.

“I know,” the boy said, his voice cracking a little. “I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to do that, do you? You just want to go back and be with the other Fox Mulder.”

“You’re the same Fox Mulder,” Scully said, kindly. “He’s you.”

“Is he?”

“Of course. He’s just grown up.”

“That’s not necessarily true, though, right?” the boy said. “I’ll be a different man from him. You’re trying to make me different. By changing my life.”

Scully said nothing. The ebb and flow of Samantha’s breath filled the space.

“I don’t understand, though,” the boy said hesitantly. “You do all of this for him, for me … but you don’t … love him?”

“I didn’t say that,” Scully said quietly.

“But you said it wasn’t … like that, between you,” the boy said. “Why isn’t it like that? What’s wrong with him?”

“He just—” Scully felt startlingly close to tears. Not appropriate, not helpful. “That’s not how he sees me, Fox. Not how he feels about me. He does love me, but not like that, not how you’re thinking. Ours is a different kind of relationship.”

The boy said nothing now, but rapped his fingers against the tree branch a little, like knocking on a tiny door. After a beat, there was a whispery little laugh. “Ha,” he said. “No.”

Scully furrowed her brow. “No?”

“You’re wrong,” he said softly. “You’ve got it wrong somehow.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I’m the same Fox Mulder, remember?” the boy said, rolling his eyes, shrugging. “He’s me.”

***

She didn’t know how long they could go on foot. Scully just couldn’t quiet this worry; it had been troubling her since they came down from the tree.

Once they had their feet back on the ground again, they began making their way through the trees, headed in the direction of West Tisbury. They traded off carrying Samantha on their back. It was slow going, and Scully thought it might take hours to reach the ferry. It seemed like there were far too many ways the men in the Cadillac could catch up with them.

Every once in a while, Scully could hear the sound of a car engine whirring by on the road, which wasn’t very far away. It made her freeze in place, listening close. She also jumped at every pop of a twig, or gull’s cry overhead.

“You’re worried,” Samantha said softly in her ear. She had her arms looped around Scully’s neck now. “You keep looking around.”

“I’m just being careful,” Scully assured her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“If you didn’t have to carry me, we could go faster,” Samantha murmured.

“Everyone has to be carried sometimes,” Scully said. She was trying to conjure up the kind of positive, encouraging things her mother might say, and coming up short. “Once, your brother carried me out of an underground base in Antarctica. I couldn’t walk at all. I wasn’t even awake some of the time. He had to carry me up a ladder.”

The boy’s eyes shot over to her. “Really?”

Scully nodded. “These situations always seem impossible,” Scully said. “You just have to … keep going.”

She tried to believe her own attempt at sunny words, but in truth, it sounded fake and empty to her. Mulder was the more natural optimist of the two of them. She supposed the boy did look fairly upbeat even now – no small feat given the day they’d had.

They walked and walked. The woods seemed to become less and less dense, the trees thinning out, wooden fences beginning to demarcate parts of the land, outlines of houses here and there.

“I think this is going to start to become farms,” the boy said to her, seriously. “We’re probably in West Tisbury now. We need to try to get a car again, because we’ll be too exposed if we keep walking this way.”

“Do you have any experience stealing cars?” Scully said, giving him a wry look, trying to catch her breath. Samantha was resting with her head on Scully’s back.

“Nope. Only magazines,” he said apologetically. “Want me to run up and see if that house looks occupied? It could be a vacation place.”

“No,” Scully said quickly. “We’ll look together.” She didn’t think she could stomach him going ahead on his own.

The house didn’t look boarded up, but it did look empty. It was possible, the boy speculated, that its owners were simply out for the day. They peered at the house and grounds from a safe distance from behind another sizable oak, trying to see if it held anything useful for them.

“No car,” the boy commented, looking at Scully. “Should we go closer?”

“No,” Scully whispered. “Too risky.”

“Look, those are bicycles,” the boy said. “We could use those. Samantha could ride on my handlebars. I think over the top of that ridge is a road we could take to Edgartown. We could catch the ferry from there.”

Scully frowned. “I just think that –”

Her voice was drowned out by the rattling sound of a car pulling down the stone driveway of the house.

Scully and the boy instinctively pulled their heads back behind the tree, out of sight.

“What kind of car was that?” Scully whispered urgently. “Did you see?”

The boy slowly peered around the tree again. “Shit,” he said, swallowing. “It’s the black Cadillac. They must be looking for us.”

Scully closed her eyes, nodded. She could hear Samantha sniffling nervously behind her.

“All right,” Scully said. “No time for the bicycles. Our best bet is to try on foot to make it over the ridge and back up on the road without them seeing us.”

She chanced a glance behind the tree. The black Cadillac had parked in the driveway, and the two men were still sitting inside, talking.

“It’s best to go now,” she whispered. “We’re going to try to keep to the perimeter, right around the line of trees. Are you ready?”

The Mulder siblings nodded seriously, their eyes wide, the color of green tea.

Scully started to move, gripping Samantha’s leg wrapped around her waist with one hand, her weapon with the other, trying to be as fast and as inconspicuous as possible. She felt the boy moving behind her doing the same. They darted from tree to tree, attempting to keep a safe distance from the house.

“Scully,” Samantha hissed. “Scully, they see us.”

Scully’s head whipped around. The two men, out of the car, were now directly headed towards them. Something dark and indeterminate, perhaps a weapon, was in one of their hands.

“Run,” Scully told the boy, her voice again in a panic. “We need to run, now.”

Scully’s muscles were already screaming from overuse today. She bent down under Samantha’s weight and began to push into the ground with her leg muscles, trying to run, run, as fast as she could.

The boy could move faster. He began to sprint, and his young legs sped him ahead of Scully, past the trees, up and over the ridge. Scully chased, still running with bent knees to move faster with Samantha, followed along in his path.

From behind her there was a single gunshot. Her chest tightened. She couldn’t see where it hit.

Keep moving. Don’t stop. Samantha needs you to go faster.

From the top of the ridge, she could see the boy moving at full speed across the road, headed purposefully for a white clapboard house set a little off the way that seemed to be converted into a modest restaurant, closed up for the off-season.

Yes. Good, Fox. A place to hold them off, at least.

The boy had managed to shove in the door to the restaurant by the time she caught up with him, and he was already scrambling inside. She followed him.

Before she shut the door behind them, panting for breath, she could see the men in suits emerging from the woods. Hopefully, it would take them a moment to figure out where they’d gone.

“Quickly,” she said to the boy, wheezing. “Upstairs.”

It was dim inside, dusty: a summer restaurant with windows protected from nor’easters and tables covered up for the winter. They ran, weaving around the tables, heading straight up a narrow set of stairs to the second floor.

As they reached a landing at the top, Scully’s legs were starting to buckle under Samantha’s weight. She was definitely out of wind. She gasped, trying to get oxygen in her lungs.

“In here?” The boy threw open a door. It was a mostly-empty bedroom converted into a storage room for the restaurant, with a few crates of linens and folding chairs haphazardly tossed inside.

Scully nodded, still trying to catch her breath. She followed the boy into the room, gently lowering Samantha off of her back.

“Keep to the corner,” she told the two of them, her hands on her knees, her voice raspy. She gestured to the old fireplace. “On the far side of that hearth. Don’t move, no matter what, you understand?”

“What are you going to do?” The boy’s voice was tight.

“Just protect your sister, Fox,” Scully said.

He put his arm around Samantha, frowning at Scully. She turned out of the room, closing the door behind her, gripping her weapon.

In the shadows on the landing, she let the edge of the bedroom obscure her from sight. She could hear the men downstairs as they walked in, but hopefully, they couldn’t see her.

“Goddamn,” one of them said. “I swear I saw them go in here.” He was out of breath, too.

“Go look in the kitchen,” the other said. “I’ll check upstairs.”

“Jesus Christ, I just want to find them and be done with it,” the first man replied. “It’s just a broad and some kids, not the fucking KGB.”

The other man grunted. Scully could see their legs now, silhouettes moving around the tables. One man headed towards the staircase. She watched him, amazed by how clearly she could see him without him spotting her. She could see the laces on his shoes. The pimple on his nose. The pistol in his hand.

She had a good shot from her vantage point.

“Freeze,” she said, in a low voice. “I’m armed, and I’m a federal agent.”

He stopped where he was, craning his head to peer up the stairs, aiming around with his pistol.

“You’re a federal agent, ma’am?” he repeated, his tone disbelieving. “How’s that?”

“Put your weapon down,” she said.

He took a deep breath, and then he chuckled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “Here’s the thing. I’m not doing that. Because I don’t think you’re actually armed, and even if you are, I don’t think that you’re going to be able to shoot a man in cold blood. It’s not as easy as it looks, honey.”

“You’re very wrong,” she said, her voice cool. “And I’m giving you one more chance.”

“Sven,” called the man, turning his neck down the stairs. “Sven, I found them. You better find a phone and let him know. She says she’s armed.”

He took a slow step up the stairs, extending his pistol further. Scully knew if he got much closer, he could see her easily, and he’d have a clean shot.

She didn’t allow herself to think about it much more. She extended her weapon and fired.

The sound of the gunshot reverberated through the house.

The man fell backwards, then slid, bumping in a sickening way all the way down to the foot of the stairs, a red stain blooming in the white shirt visible under his black suit. Scully knew it was going to be fatal. Still, she had a ridiculous, nonsensical urge to go down to see if she could help him as a doctor.

She backed away from the staircase, swallowing repeatedly, and ran a hand over her face.

Stay calm. Stay calm.

Cracking the door to the bedroom, she looked in at the Mulder children. They were huddled together in the corner near the hearth, as she instructed, the boy putting both arms around Samantha, who had buried her face in his shoulder. Both looked up at her with wild, panicked eyes.

“What happened?” whispered the boy frantically. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she whispered back. “It’s fine. Stay where you are.”

From downstairs, she could hear the second man cursing wildly, and his clomping footsteps across the restaurant. Slowly, she moved to her vantage point on the landing to see and hear better, trying not to pay any heed to the body at the foot of the stairs.

Somewhere, in the bowels of the building, she could hear the second man trying to use the telephone.

***

They couldn’t leave the second floor. Their remaining pursuer hadn’t repeated his colleague’s mistake, hadn’t attempted coming up the stairs, but he set himself up as guard downstairs, sitting at a table in the dining room of the restaurant. Scully suspected he was waiting for something or someone. Back up, possibly.

Scully waited in the bedroom with the children, looking over every possible nook and cranny, considering every means of escape. She walked the entire perimeter of the room, never taking her hands off of her gun, listening constantly.

The boy looked miserable. “I shouldn’t have run into the restaurant,” he said. “I thought we could hide. I thought it was a good idea.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Scully reassured him, staring down out the window. “We had to do something. We weren’t going to be able to outrun them.”

“I’m not helping enough,” he said, shaking his head. “I should be helping you.”

She turned and looked at him, a sudden rush of affection hitting her. “You always blame yourself when you’re a grown-up, too, Fox,” she said.

“I don’t think it’s anybody’s fault,” Samantha said softly.

Scully’s eyes shifted to Samantha, who looked so pale and vulnerable. Scully gave her a grateful little smile. She wanted to hold the little girl, to stroke her head, rebraid her hair, put ice on her ankle, tell her everything would be fine.

“Do you think that–”

The boy’s question was interrupted by the sound of the front door to the restaurant opening, and voices sounding below again.

Samantha took hold of the boy’s arm, and he looked at Scully questioningly. Scully placed a finger on her lips, and she crept on to the landing to hear better.

The voice was familiar, calm and erudite, a voice she associated with evil.

It was the smoker, C.G.B. Spender, in his younger iteration, mid-conversation with the surviving man from the Cadillac.

“And you’ve not attempted again?” he was asking.

“You didn’t tell us she would be armed. You led us to believe she was just some lady, some babysitter.”

“Still, I assume you are armed as well.” The smoker’s voice was deceptively pleasant. “Who exactly is this young woman, that she has managed to elude professionals such as yourself for hours?”

“Is there back up on the way?”

“Of course,” the smoker said. “But she is one small woman, accompanied by two children. How many men are required, exactly?”

Scully went back into the bedroom, suddenly feeling very calm. She walked to her duffel bag and hunted through it a moment, finding an envelope. The Mulder siblings watched her silently.

“Here,” she said, carrying the envelope to Samantha. “I’m putting this envelope in Samantha’s pocket. It’s a letter that explains much of what I know about — about the men that are trying to abduct you – and who you are in danger from. Specifically this man, C.G.B. Spender, who is now downstairs. Yesterday I mailed a similar letter to an FBI agent, too, a man named Arthur Dales.”

“Why are you giving us that?” The boy’s voice was suspicious; his face was expressionless.

“You and Samantha are going to have to try to climb through this window,” Scully said. She looked out the window again. “It’s risky. I did something myself like this, a few days ago, in San Diego. You’re going to have to jump to the roof of the storage shed below. Then you’re going to run to the woods and head for the bicycles we saw, and you’re going to go to the police. You’ll say you were abducted by the man downstairs. Whatever story you want to come up with, really. You can say I was part of it if you want to.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to go down and distract them, hold them off,” Scully said. “I should do it now, while there are only two of them. They said there's more coming. If I do that, they won’t notice you going out the window.”

“You’ll … you can’t…” the boy began.

“I can’t jump from a window,” Samantha protested in a small voice. “My ankle.”

“You’re going to have to try,” Scully told her. Because it’s better than the alternative. “It’ll be scary, and it might hurt a little – but Fox will help you.”

“Scully,” the boy tried again, close to tears, “the men downstairs – you’re not going to be able to…”

“Yes, I will,” she said fiercely. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I won’t let you,” the boy insisted, his voice cracking into a deeper pitch. “I’m supposed to be your partner.”

“Your sister is the mission,” Scully told him, her voice breaking, too. “She’s always been the mission. She needs you, Fox.”

The boy’s eyes cut over to Samantha, whose lip was trembling, and he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “But why can’t you–”

“No more discussion,” Scully said, a tiny shake of her head. “You can do this, right?”

He nodded, blinking quickly, and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “But I’ll see you again, Scully?”

Scully met his eyes, his tearful, childlike Mulder eyes, and holding his stare, she nodded purposefully. “Yes. Yes, of course, you will.”

Before she could think any more about it — about whether she was telling him intentional lies — she turned and left the room, gripping her gun, willing herself not to cry.

***

She kept her gun trained on the smoker as she came down the stairs.

“Don’t move,” she said. “Not a muscle, or Spender dies first.”

The second man, Sven, hadn’t drawn his pistol. “Put your gun on the table,” Scully said, still standing on the stairs, her voice a world calmer than she felt. “Take three steps back.”

Sven did as she said, throwing the smoker dark and resentful looks as he did. Scully kept walking steadily down the stairs, stepping carefully around the sprawled body slowly weeping dark blood at the bottom.

“Our mystery lady,” the smoker said calmly, taking a drag of his cigarette. “At long last. I see you know my name, but I don’t have the pleasure of knowing yours.”

“You don’t,” agreed Scully. “Sit down, please, in that chair.”

“Whoever you work for,” the smoker continued, “I’m sure that whatever they pay you, I could double it. Triple it, maybe. Think of all the baubles a lovely young woman such as yourself could buy on that salary.”

Scully smiled a small, bitter smile. “I don’t think you would understand if I told you who I worked for.”

For a brief moment she actually enjoyed the baffled look on his face, the confusion that there might be some part of the picture that he didn’t understand. But he mastered his expression again quickly.

“Let’s be clear, miss,” he said, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the table. His tone was chillier. “This isn’t going to end well for you.”

“We’ll see,” Scully said. “Can you open your coat, please, so I can determine whether you’re armed?”

“Don’t bother. I’ve got her, boss,” Sven said.

And Scully looked over to see that Sven had another gun trained on her, apparently produced from an ankle holster.

She cursed, shifting her gun to aim at him.

“Not very ladylike language,” the smoker said. “But since you asked, as a matter of fact, I am armed.” He also removed a small pistol from his jacket pocket, standing and holding it out on her as well. “Sven, go upstairs and fetch the children, please.”

Scully’s chest tightened so painfully she thought she would faint. She had been hoping to give the Mulders as much time as possible, to get as far as they possibly could. Had it been enough?

Please let them already be gone. Please let them be in the woods by now.

In Scully’s peripheral vision, Sven moved across the room, holding his gun on her as he walked. He was stepping over the body. Ascending the steps.

“Who do you work for?” the smoker was asking her, narrowing his eyes, his gun still aimed at her. “How do you know who I am?”

“What’s your interest in the Mulder children?” Scully replied, her eyes tracking Sven.

“I’m surprised you don’t know.” The smoker’s voice was faintly mocking. “You seem to know everything.”

She could see Sven’s feet on the landing upstairs. Moving towards the bedroom door.

“Did Bill Mulder hire you to protect them?” the smoker asked speculatively. “You seem an unlikely choice.”

“No,” she said. Her hands were starting to shake again, waiting with dread to hear what happened upstairs. She tightened her hold on the gun.

“In fact, you seem an unlikely choice for any of our … colleagues,” the smoker said. “I admit, it has me curious.”

A gunshot upstairs.

And then another.

“Oh God,” she whispered. She didn’t bother to control the shaking of her hands now. 

She took an unsteady step towards the stairs, her legs nearly giving out under her.

“Sven,” called the smoker loudly up the stairs.

She turned to look at him. His eyes were glinting with anger. He was upset, she realized, that the logistics of his abduction might be thrown off by something like the murder of children.

Rage overtook her. She lifted her gun up directly to his face.

“What are you doing?” he said, reacting to her expression, keeping his gun on her.

“If they’re dead,” she said in a dark, low, hopeless voice she didn’t know, “you’re dead.”

“Calm down,” he said. “Let’s be reasonable. No one was supposed to die.”

“If they’re dead, you’re dead,” she repeated, her tone rising.

“Sven,” he called again.

“Fox?” she shouted. “Samantha? Are you there?”

The smoker had sweat beading on his upper lip. Scully wanted, very badly, just to pull the trigger into his face and be done with him. She kept her eyes on him, fighting the urge, and she heard someone’s steps coming down the stairs. She heard herself choke out an involuntary sob.

“Scully.”

In slow motion, she turned, open-mouthed, towards the staircase.

Where Fox Mulder stood facing her.

Not Fox Mulder the boy. Fox Mulder the man, her Fox Mulder, from 1999.

With an FBI-issued SIG Sauer aimed directly at Spender.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xfiles fanfic

[manuedws]

Too late to apologize

I usually have a lot of fun discovering all your creations, and admiring your imagination and talents, and I thought I'd stay on the readers' side. But since I finished the game, I have a few things on my mind, so I think I should share them.

I hesitated a lot, because I don't know if my English is good enough to start. I admit that I would have liked to be proofread, but after all, it doesn't cost anything to give it a try.

I'm sorry, the action is slow to take place, but in order to deal with this subject, I thought it was important to talk a few words about MC, who she is, what she does, and why.

Hope you will enjoy

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

Part 1.

The trickle of fresh air on her face was almost pleasant, it was perhaps the only thing that maintained a semblance of contact with reality. She was staring straight ahead, her mind foggy. Reality had escaped her for a few seconds, granting her a brief moments of respite.

Her gaze was inexpressive, deep rings  were marking her eyes, her makeup had run down her cheeks, like the scars of her despair.

the light of a flashing beacon that snapped her out of her reverie, when an ambulance passed her at high speed. She then realized that she had lost track for a few moments. It only took her a few fractions of a second to put the events back in their place before the abominable lump in her stomach overwhelmed her again and tears came to her eyes. 

She glanced at the speedometer and saw that she had slowed considerably, a warning light indicating that she was soon to run out of fuel, which made her hiss in annoyance between her teeth. She turned on the car radio, hoping the music would keep her awake and more attentive, now was definitely not the time to screw up.

A few hours earlier, she had hastily stuffed a few clothes, her toiletry kit, and her laptop into a large canvas bag, grabbed her purse and a large hiking backpack, and left her apartment without looking back. She had tossed everything onto the passenger seat of her car, this time preferring it to her motorcycle.   It might have an advantage later, she had thought, and in a last flash of lucidity, she had made a slight detour to withdraw as much cash as possible from an ATM before getting on the highway.

She was already out of control.

"I've been a bad, bad girl

I've been careless with a delicate man

And it's a sad, sad world

When a girl will break a boy just because she can"

Was singing Fiona Apple on the radio.

The GPS indicated that there were still 2 hours to go, she had done more than half of the way, and yet she still hadn't drawn up the slightest plan. She was exhausted and on edge, unable to organize her thoughts, unable to find the beginning of solutions. So ...finding the genius idea that could solve all the problems and fix that mess.

"Don't you tell me to deny it

I've done wrong and I want to suffer for my sins

I've come to you 'cause I need guidance to be true

And I just don't know where I can begin

Ooh, what I need is a good defense

'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal

And I need to be redeemed

To the one I've sinned against

Because he's all I ever knew of love"

She was born into a united and happy family 28 years ago. An only child, her parents had had her late, as they were thinking they would never have any children. She had been pampered, and loved madly, they had always had high hopes for her :  "She will do great things" they were saying.

She could have become one of those proud bitches who thinks everything is due to them, but it was the opposite. One day, seeing bruises and scarfs on her 7 years old bestie, she realised how lucky she was to be in such a loving family.  She was thinking that a fairy had leaned over her crib when she was a baby, and she had tried all her life to deserve what had been given to her. 

She had been an easy and affectionate child, a studious student, a hard worker, she became a courageaous woman. Although she had clearly defined studies as her priority, she was a smiling and kind young woman, who never refused to have fun, as long as her work was done.

Six months ago, after many years of study, she got her first assignment. It was far from what she had hoped for, but she told herself that she was close to her goal, and that she would do her best, as always, to prove that she deserved her place. 

A lifetime of control, and yet, for the past few hours, she had been sailing on sight, freestyle. She was aware of what she was doing: rushing headlong into her downfall  without the slightest hesitation. In two hours, she was going to throw away everything she had fought for all her life.

“Let me know the way

Before there's hell to pay

Give me room to lay the law and let me go

I've got to make a play

To make my lover stay

So what would an angel say the devil wants to know”

Damn it, make an effort and think!!! She grumbled through her teeth, taking a quick look at her phone on the passenger seat. A sign pointed to a nearby highway service area , so she decided to fill up the car and freshen up.

The interior of the shop was anything but classic. There was a corner grocery bazaar which seemed to be well stocked. The large counter at the back offered fast food at all hours of the day and night. On the right there were a few tables, some of which were already occupied. Against the wall, a few vending machines for coffee, snacks, sodas and above, a large television screen on which we saw a surreal scene: dozens of people, police and firefighters in a security perimeter, a helicopter in the sky. The subtitle read :

Duskwood: Unexplained explosion in the mines. Search operations are still ongoing.

She felt an icy thrill run through her body, her eyes glued to the television. She had heard from Alan that the mine had caught fire and that's what had convinced her to go there, despite her promise, but the sight of the smoke column and the dozens of people gravitating in the middle of the forest terrified her.

What if... 

What if he was still inside?

What if she was too late?

Part 2

#duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood game #duskwood jake #duskwood

[thevibraniumveterans]

Ms Marvel S01 E02 - “Crushed”

Spoilers!

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Okay, some thoughts.

1. Kamala’s nose glowing at the end of class? That was pretty cute, actually, she got all cross-eyed and was like “oh no don’t panic” but like.

2. Nakia had an important point when she said, “And it's been this very uncomfortable, sucky, in-between. So, when I first put this on, I was hoping to shut some people up, but I kinda realized I don't really need to prove anything to anybody.” Though she was speaking strictly from a cultural and religious perspective when she referred to her head scarf, I feel like this can apply to many people who are forced by their societies to live two worlds - one where they are what others expect them to be, and one where they can fully be themselves but are shunned by the world. And the fact that Nakia gives voice to this feeling? It’s really great. What you wear, what you are, does not define you. Who you really are, or who you grow to be? That defines you.

3. So, Kamran, eh? I was thinking all episode, please don’t let him be a jerk like he was in the comics, please just let him be a nice person who looks out for others. And like, that’s kind of true, when he offers to drive Kamala and a few friends home from the party, and when he offers Kamala an escape route at the end of the episode. So he’s kind of neutral good for now, I think?

4.

5. Muneeba is actually kind of cool, I think. Yusuf’s story about Muneeba’s mother Sana possibly having powers… plus the whole “yeah yeah we’re just cousins” thing that Kamala and Kamran were putting on in the restaurant, together with the vision that Kamala had, TWICE this episode, is kind of making me wonder… what kind of connection does Kamran have with Kamala’s family?

6.

7. Also I think it's nice that Bruno asked Muneeba about his outfit, because it a celebration and for once it's not cultural appropriation, I think. The way he's asking Kamala’s mom if the outfit is okay.

8. KAMALA AND NAKIA’S HANDSHAKE?! ARE Y’ALL SEEING THIS?! It looks so familiar!! Is this Peter and Ned’s handshake BUT ADVANCED?!

9. Besides the fact that Nakia made her boots-on-the-ground campaign strategy sound like an entire obstacle course - which was hilarious but also pretty well-filmed, considering it was all done in one take - I really like what Nakia said to Kamala’s dad Yusuf, like… And also besides the fact that the Khan family really loves Nakia and Bruno? I love that. Check out Yusuf’s expressions though…. The way he looks so crushed afterwards…

10. That last scene? Kamran’s mom… what does she want from Kamala? And why does she know her?

-

Ok bonus 3 thoughts:

When Agent Deever was interrogating Zoe and she brought up searching for Kamala in a specifically targeted neighborhood? I get why that scene was included but it made me feel wrong. And I think it was intentional and well-done that it made me feel this way.

Also? That scene where multiple government agents were tracking down Kamala, who lets nor forget, is a young Pakistani Muslim teenager… this scene made me feel really off. It’s not what was done but how it made me feel - the government tracking down a young girl. A young non-white Western Asian girl. A young Muslim girl. And the authorities are tracking her down. It’s not so much who she is but that to them, she is a being with super powers… being tracked down with what was it, Stark drones? Being used by the Department of damage control? Because of the Sokovia accords (about needing the government to keep track of beings with super powers) that Stark agreed with so long ago?

Last thought: Kamala’s “training” sequence and her getting so excited about her new powers and figuring out different things she can do with them, that’s the cutest thing ever. I really loved that little sequence.

#mcu #ms marvel series #ms marvel spoilers #ms marvel ep 2 #kamala khan #iman vellani #bruno carrelli #matt lintz #nakia #yasmeen fletcher #kamran #rish shah #muneeba khan #zenobia shroff #yusuf khan #mohan kapur #zoe zimmer #laurel marsden #marvel cinematic universe #disney+ #mcu thoughts

[serial-doubters-club]

I posted 5,899 times in 2022

That's 5,899 more posts than 2021!

68 posts created (1%)

5,831 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shinidamachu

@coquinespike

@ka-go-me

@fandomobsessions016

@lavendertwilight89

I tagged 5,884 of my posts in 2022

#q - 4,782 posts

#inuyasha - 3,468 posts

#kagome - 2,922 posts

#fanart - 2,895 posts

#inukag - 1,953 posts

#anime - 1,104 posts

#sango - 625 posts

#gifs - 603 posts

#manga - 552 posts

#inukag fanart - 549 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#reminds me of how our vice principle had to come into my second grade class and explain the difference between true bullying and mean talk

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Home

Written for InuKagFluffWeek2022 @inukagfluffweek

Day 7: Family Time

Summary: Inuyasha never imagined he'd find a place to call home until Kagome gave him a place to belong to.

Rating: G | Words: 543

Read on AO3

I DID IT!!! This is the very first event in which I've participated every single day!!! Woo!!!

First and foremost, I would like to thank @inukagfluffweek for all of their hard work and dedication to running this event and giving us yet another opportunity to demonstrate our profound love for InuKag <3

Secondly, I want to thank everyone that has read, kudoed, commented on, bookmarked, and shared my stories on AO3 and on Tumblr, as well. As a baby writer, it means the world to me that people would take the time to read, enjoy, and provide feedback on my stories. Yes, I'm giving a speech. Sue me. I have seen all of your wonderful comments, and I promise to respond to each and every one because they mean everything to me and keep me going and wanting to improve! Thank you! Thank you! Ok, I'm off to cry now!

Preview:

The first time Inuyasha entered Kagome's home he'd been an intruder. He'd barged into her dining room and ripped her away from the table to take her back to the Feudal Era while her family looked on in awe.

Today he'd been invited to sit at that very table as a guest.

62 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#4

Written for @inu-spiration (Reverse Solstice Bang 2022)

I had the absolute pleasure of being paired with the incredibly talented @valuvi! Her beautiful art piece, which you can view here, inspired so many beautiful ideas and scenes that went into the making of this story.

Please make sure to go and give her artwork lots and lots of love because it's so amazing and will take your breath away!

B-Side (Read on AO3)

Summary: Inuyasha is a photographer assigned to cover a local music festival. When one of the performers sings a song written by his mother, a song only the two of them could possibly know, his world is turned upside down. Inuyasha may have to come to terms with the fact that his mother kept a secret that she took to the grave. A Modern AU. Pairing: InuKag. Rated T (for language)

64 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

#3

I love that Bankotsu thought he had the advantage when Hakushin's dokko exorcised tessaiga.

See the full post

84 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

#2

Look at Kirara!!! She's like a little boat! 🥰🥰

And then later when their boat sinks 🤣

125 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Excuse me, I'm still not over how sweet and tender this scene is:

From Kagome using her scarf to wipe the sweat from his forehead...

To Inuyasha being touched by Kagome crying for him because she thought he might die and asking to lie on her lap...

See the full post

299 notes - Posted July 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sdc22

[cockmcstuffins]

alright so now i’m subjecting you all to my opinions on the new film red casual outfits because what am i if not the occasional one piece design critic so in order of worst to best we have

zoro: again my man is wearing joots and yes it’s entirely possible it’s the same situation as his year one outfit where they just don’t draw the line clear and concise between pants and boots but paired with the shirt that looks less like a shirt and more like a wayward drifting bag he lifted his arms up and let fall onto his body i am not putting it past him. all their attempts from recent movies to make him look ‘cool and effortless’ are translating more into ‘no one on the crew can get him into more clothes than necessary much like a baby and/or toddler and they just put on as few articles of clothing as they can get him into in order to be considered legally decent enough to appear in public’ but everyone owes me ten bucks if that shirt becomes a tearaway because she’s holding on by a thread she’s struggling she is clinging

sanji: i am yet again denied ‘sanji in a cardigan’ for the upteemth time in a row and as the hate crimes continue so does the god awful combo of SALMON BOAT SHORTS and a blazer in a true testament to my-parents-own-a-boat-and-it’s-my-personality fashion in a nausea-inducing pastel ketchup and mustard a la carte a la fart look. i have seen this man, i have encountered this man, i can name a time/date/name and place and my friends will know exactly who i am talking about. there is a crate and barrel with this man’s name on it, there is a california pizza kitchen he should be vaping near. and yes i am not ignoring the scarf he appears to have tucked into his hane’s t-shirt like he’s trying to appropriate the ascot. you are not peter facinelli’s carlise, you will never be peter facinelli’s carlisle, and peter facinelli’s carlisle i am so sorry an ugly bitch would ever do this to you.

nami: boring! sorry but we’ve seen this combination of bikini top/indistinguishable short bottom either skirt or shorts/heels so many times on nami since post time-skip that it seems like that’s actually just her skin and she’s some kind of eldritch sex horror alien who can’t make interesting fashion choices because the design team is legally obligated to draw her with her cooter and pooter on full fucking display. with the music festival/concert theme, we could have seen a myriad of interesting fashion choices for her but instead we get the same shit, different color of an outfit that oddly has schoolgirl vibes between a plaid skirt and a button-up shirt tied around her waist that i’m 90% sure is an accessory recycled from the previous movie. it’s also in a starfish orange or kroger brand salmon that feels like the most disingenuous choice because it’s just her usual color scheme but watered down. disappointed, but not surprised. also her boots look like watering cans i hate when they give them those fucking shoes.

luffy: if anybody has a same-outfit syndrome it’s luffy and that has been the case for the past 20+ years of one piece if there’s a way luffy can wear jean shorts and shirts he will wear jean shorts and shirts if there is a way he can manage to wear jeans shorts and shirts at his own wedding, funeral, sojourn past the pearly gates i have it on good authority he will do exactly that THAT BEING SAID it’s light, it’s airy, it’s giving me fun, it’s giving me day out and while i am sure the vest has some other purpose and may be a different accessory i am picturing it as his equivalent of a fanny pack or old man fishing vest like he’s got juice boxes in that thing or he’s got adderal he’s got whatever is going to get him through this concert/festival and god bless him honestly we love a consistent king

chopper: i can never be mad at any of the choices for chopper because he seems to fit a very specific niche for the design team because he’s a fucking reindeer but it’s not uncommon for his outfit in his brain point form to be completely indiscernible as anything other than jacket and shorts until he happens to switch to heavy point or another form and then we can see the crimes. i’m not mad i’m just unimpressed with yet another modified theme hat, accessories out the wazoo he’s definitely not going to be able to hold onto (or the animators won’t bother to make him hold onto as the movie goes), and what appears to just be a thematic mess that speaks to nothing about chopper as a character. she’s a bit bland is all i’m saying, your honor, she can do better!

usopp: another theme case where usopp’s outfits are either completely unique or (still unique) but ruled entirely by the theme of the movie. we don’t hate that for him we love to see it actually, but the kiss party city costume is exactly that- a clear and deliberate reference, nothing that really gives his character anything extra, and a fucking eyesore amidst the rest of the team and that’s definitely on purpose. usopp will either lose pieces of this outfit as the movie plays or the change into their end-game outfits will be super quick because i really don’t see him holding onto this one outside of the visual gimmick/gag it’s supposed to provide. but you know what it’s camp and he even technically has a cod piece so yes this is higher up on the list than the others fuck you.

robin: another boring one sorry about it! i like the leather jacket and i like the attempt at asymmetry with the two different boots and the leg accessory but it’s very much a casual concert goer look and too grounded in realism for a one piece movie outfit when paired with the rest of her crewmates in this batch. i have no problems with this outfit on its own, i would make no changes, but if she could have had any other outfit she wouldn’t be the same missed opportunity as nami. like it’s a fucking concert and the design team just went frozen and made our two female crew members pretty and practical. robin could have had any number of face paint designs or hair accessories or spikes or leather or anything and we got like. a sundress to cover her absolute lack of existing ass or pelvic bones.

franky: i can’t fault franky for being what is probably the one character the design team has fun with every time without fail but the beatbox is the same gimmicky, won’t last very long or won’t feature super prominently because it’s too hard to draw look that we’ll probably see with usopp. as an unfortunate side effect this is giving me less music festival and more optimus prime but like a shitty cardboard optimus prime someone made in the 1980s in their basement because transformers was cool but their mom didn’t want to get the store bought costume and if they showed up to trick or treating without it they would be mocked endlessly at the 4th grade water cantina. and his expression in most of the promo art is not not giving me that? so i dunno man

brook & jinbe: perfection as usual. glad to see jinbe is joining brook in impeccable design for the movies club. i have no notes.

#i did not proof read this and you all have to deal with it #sara's not watching the one about pirates #arjay this is very similar to my rant about the folsense fashion failure underneath the white suit from movie gold #if you remember that because i do