#you were turned in 2015 and have lived in this house for a year and a half you know how the oven works do not fuck with me you dumb twink

[sanguinaryrot]

in my head, basil was turned by and lived for some time with a really old vampire so even though he was turned in modern day, he picked up the mannerisms of a man who still wishes it was 1845. Basil will be like Marcy, darling, how does one preheat an oven? and Marcy being like bitch im gonna kill you

#you were turned in 2015 and have lived in this house for a year and a half you know how the oven works do not fuck with me you dumb twink #and then basil gets mad cause he is NOT a twink!!!!1 #ocs #Basil Hawthorne #Marcy Beretta #txt

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my March 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Sunshine, Baby! by staybeautiful / @harruandlou (106k)

Louis was the first one down the row for their group. If he hadn’t been they would have never met.

He was turned around, walking backwards and saying to Liam, “No, I’ll get you to a real footie match next,” when he bumped into someone.

“Oops,” Louis laughed, tripping over his own feet. A hand curled around his upper arm as he nearly fell over the seat in front of him. “Sorry about that, mate.”

He turned around, still teetering in his vans, to apologize again, but the words dried in his throat. Another hand gripped his other elbow, steadying him, but all Louis could see were green eyes and dimples.

“Hi,” the man laughed, a bright, bubbling sound. “Are you okay?”

Or Louis is in his first year of law school, Harry is a junior on the swim team dreaming of the Olympics, and they both agree that they don't have time for anything more than friends with benefits... right?

Follow Your Arrow by Anonymous (78k)

Harry was the golden child, blessed in every way; Niall was the charming miscreant, a bad boy; Liam was the future-son-in-law parents of daughters dreamt of, and Zayn was the kid parents wished was their son. But Louis, Harry thought, Louis was the special one. 

It's senior year and everything is about to change.

Where We Landed by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (70k)

The leaves were green the last time Harry stepped foot in Holmes Chapel, a stark contrast to the candy apple, butterscotch painting them now, years later. Harry first notices them on the train, gazing out the window with a downturned mouth. A warm something floods his stomach–memories, Harry imagines, of him as a boy, longing for the days when he’d live elsewhere and have to take this very train home for the holidays. He wonders how it’s possible to have once felt eager and euphoric at the sight of changing leaves yet now to feel nothing but tired. He sighs softly, turning away from the trees to look at his daughter, half-curled in his lap, asleep.

or: harry returns to his hometown with his sick daughter and more reminders than he bargained for of the boy he once loved when he left a handful of years ago

You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home by styleandsin / @styleandsin (43k)

Now, as he’s standing in the doorway, he’s trying not to get choked up. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this: the smell of his mother’s baking, the sounds of each of his family members, the sight of some of his old toys scattered about the foyer where his littlest siblings had presumably left them. All these things scream home, and he hadn’t felt at home since he left this house eight years ago.

 Louis needs a break from everything, from acting and the constant pressure of life in LA. He decides to move back home for a bit, some time with his family is exactly what can lift his spirits. What he doesn't expect is to fall in love. Both with the town he hated so much so that he couldn't wait to leave it years ago and with a curly haired florist that was the complete opposite of the guys he'd often meet in LA.

Something About Liminal Spaces by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (34k)

Searching for inspiration for his latest book, and hoping distance will help heal his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson heads to the village of Piha on the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

There he meets Harry Styles.

Fifteen years older than Harry, Louis tries to keep his distance, but Harry is impossible to avoid and harder to ignore.

At Risk, I Fold by clare328 / @bearmustard (15k)

2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

Wedding Bells Will Never Ring For Me by lousmoonshine / @lousmoonshine (14k)

After a failed proposal a few years back, Louis gets an unexpected invitation to his ex - Harry’s – wedding

Some Kind of Night Into Your Darkness (Colors Your Eyes With What's Not There) by larryismylifesource (5k)

Harry’s body buzzes with heat, like a current underneath his skin, because it’s been too long and his husband is right here and for once they have no obligations other than each other and he just wants.

“Lou.”

And Louis must sense it, the way the atmosphere shifts against him, the way Harry’s eyes get all big and dark with need, because he meets Harry’s gaze and then yanks him down for another kiss.

or, the boys get a day off in the middle of tour and harry and louis use it to their advantage

#28th appreciation #larry fic rec #march fic rec #monthly fic rec #fic rec #hlcreators #read

[puckgoss]

okay everyone… the deep dive you’ve all been very patiently waiting for… i recommend putting on the “the departed” “the godfather” or “goodfellas” soundtracks while reading this!

thanks to the anons who sent in info about all of this. huge thanks to the anon who was able to reveal some personal information about the family (from the same town).

when i got an ask saying sway’s gf’s family is (ex)-mafia i went looking for proof, and that sent me down a huge rabbit hole… 

IMPORTANT NOTE: this is currently under editing/review as i add/clarify further info

Links to Alessandra’s IG & Alessandra’s VSCO

Alessandra’s Background

Alessandra is 21 years old, turning 22 at some point this year (2002 birth year). She graduated high school in 2020 (source).

Alessandra’s family is from Leominster, Massachusetts. They lived there for many generations. Alessandra grew up in a home described as a “chateau” with horses and a dog. A picture of the house can be found below, up to you to decide whether it looks like a chateau or not. The town rumor is that they are ~7th Generation Italian Royalty. They used to vacation to their home on the coast of Puerto Rico during February vacation every year. They still go there often, as you can see on her social media accounts.

She now lives and works in the Northend of Boston. Her and her sister (Anina) are in the same big friend group and have both been described as nice, fun, private, and quiet. Her sister works as a “marketing intern” according to LinkedIn. Alessandra’s job is unknown. They and some of the Bruins players frequent Lincoln in Southie in Boston.

Alessandra has been dating Bruins goaltender Jeremy Swayman since ~Fall 2023. Apparently Alessandra and Jeremy are very cute together in public.

Salvatelli Family Background (Maternal Side)

Here is a family tree to help you visualize this:

Alessandra’s mother (Monique) and aunt (Toni) operate Paisano’s Pizza and Spirits, which they have done since 2019, although the business has been in the family for many years.

In 2007, the restaurant had their liquor license suspended for two days after finding its owner (Toni) hindered a police investigation. Here is an excerpt from the article, the link is here but it’s paywalled.

If you guys want to learn how to bypass hard paywalls on Google Chrome, let me know!

Essentially, Toni’s boyfriend got in a bar fight, and Toni (one of the owners) rushed him out the back door then did not comply with a police officer’s request later that night to give him the security video.

In 2023, the restaurant posted on their Instagram account congratulating Alessandra on running the Boston Marathon.

The restaurant is located in a hole in the wall strip mall and has mediocre reviews.

The article linked above mentions that Toni (and Monique) are the daughters of John Salvatelli, a former City Councillor. He and his brother Robert Salvatelli were both city councillors in Leominster for many years - Robert since at least 1999 and John since around the same time. In early 2005 Robert was voted in as City Council president, supported by his brother John.

Robert Salvatelli retired from this role in 2015. John was a City Councillor for 10 years. Previously, Robert was a teacher and principal at one of the town’s elementary schools.

Iacaboni Family Background (Paternal Side)

Note 1: Their surname is sometimes spelled Iacaboni, and sometimes spelled Iacoboni. I found articles using both spellings referring to the same people.

Note 2: David was Frank Sr.'s stepson. His mother is unknown.

1980s & 1990s

source

Frank Iacaboni Sr. was convicted of being a major player in a multimillion-dollar bookmaking ring.

He "has been paying tribute to the Mafia for years", according to law enforcement sources.

In the mid-1980s, Frank Iacaboni Sr. complained that convicted Boston mobsters Robert Carrozza and Dennis (Champagne) LePore ransacked his home and made off with an estimated $250,000, according to sources.

Police say Burton (Chico) Krantz, the region's preeminent bookmaker, mediated the dispute, in which Iacaboni agreed to pay his tribute without complaint, and the Boston Mafiosi agreed not to kill him.

1993

Sources say David Iacaboni, who was adopted by his stepfather, always resented his father's failure to acknowledge him. But they say, the Iacabonis apparently made some form of reconciliation several years ago when David Iacaboni returned from a brief stay in Florida. That rapprochement ended, however, when David Iacaboni and his wife, Lori, were indicted in 1993 for marijuana trafficking.

Sources say Frank Iacaboni tried to file criminal charges against David for allegedly selling a Corvette he had given to Frank. The elder Iacaboni had also blamed his son for a December 1993 fire at his home. No charges were ever filed, however. After David Iacaboni and his wife were sentenced to 10 years in prison last January, David Iacaboni approached US Attorney Donald K. Stern, offering to lead authorities to the body of Richard Tuttle Jr. in exchange for his wife being released. Stern agreed to the deal.

September 1995

A suspected prowler was killed and a police officer was seriously wounded outside of Frank (Alessandra’s grandfather’s) Iacaboni's house.

Frank’s son, David, who I believe is Alessandra’s paternal uncle, was convicted in the murder of a man in July 1995.

(source)

(source)

January 1996: (source)

FBI agents raided the home of convicted bookmaker Frank E. Iacaboni, shortly after the start of the Super Bowl. No arrests were made, but FBI agents, assisted by state and local police, confiscated some cash.

"It was a sad day for gamblers in Leominster," said one source, who asked not to be identified.

Iacaboni's ranch-style home at 640 Union St. was the scene of a bloody shootout in September after a man opened fire on two police officers who were investigating a complaint of a prowler.

Police sources have said the man may have been trying to steal gambling money from Iacaboni. The shooting is still under investigation by state police.

FBI spokesman Pete S. Ginieres said he could neither confirm nor deny Sunday's raid.

However, Leominster Police Capt. Thomas J. Bisol said local police helped FBI agents execute a search warrant at Iacaboni's house.

Bisol said other homes in the city were also searched. Bisol declined to provide any more details.

"This is an FBI matter," he said.

On Sept. 15 1995, two police officers were called to Iacaboni's house to respond to a call of a prowler outside the home.

Officers Dwayne Flowers and Thomas R. Kent found John J. MacNeil in the garage of the house. MacNeil, 47, charged at the two officers, firing from two hand guns.

MacNeil was killed by police after exchanging more than 26 rounds of gunfire. Kent, 32, who was shot in the chest by MacNeil, is still recovering from his injury.

Police sources at the time said they were investigating the possibility that MacNeil was sent to the house by Iacaboni's estranged son, David M. Iacaboni.

MacNeil was a cellmate of the younger Iacaboni at the Plymouth County Correctional Facility. Police sources said they were looking to see if David Iacaboni sent MacNeil to his father's house to steal gambling receipts, or to kill his father, or to do both.

The police sources said Frank Iacaboni was known to keep large amounts of cash in a safe inside his house.

Frank E. Iacaboni was one of 18 people arrested in 1983 on gaming charges as a result of a state police investigation into illegal gambling. He pleaded guilty to 21 counts of using a telephone for gaming and 13 counts of conspiracy to register bets. He was fined $4,250.

Wednesday, Jan 24 1996:

David Iacaboni was sentenced to 18 to 20 years in prison for killing Richard A. Tuttle Jr. of Lancaster in November 1989.

The younger Iacaboni pleaded guilty to manslaughter in Middlesex Superior Court in Cambridge. He told authorities he killed Tuttle during an argument about a drug sale.

2002-2008: Charges laid, legal documents, case notes

In March 2002, Frank Iacaboni pleaded guilty to charges arising out of his operation of an illegal gambling business.

From 1995 through March 1998, Iacaboni conducted an illegal sports gambling operation in and around Leominster, Massachusetts. Iacaboni's business included a few different "offices" headed by individuals hired to take bets from gamblers over the telephone. Iacaboni also ran a "football ticket" business; bettors paid between $1 and $10 per "ticket," a card on which they checked off four or more predictions in dozens of upcoming games.

Aug 13, 2002 - U.S. v. Iacaboni

Oct 21, 2002 - U.S. v. Iacoboni

Mar 30, 2004 - U.S. v. Iacaboni, other source

April 2005: Indictment handed down on charges of racketeering against 12 men

October 2008: Outline of the criminal case below

March 2009: (source) (source)

In March 2009, Arthur Gianelli, Dennis Albertelli and his wife Giselle, and Frank Iacaboni of Leominster (Alessandra's grandfather) were on trial in federal court for numerous crimes.

Mary Ann Gianelli pleaded guilty to 19 counts of racketeering, money laundering, filing false tax returns, and illegal structuring of cash transactions. Under a plea agreement, the federal government dropped an additional 141 money laundering counts against her.

Her husband was Mafia associate Arthur Gianelli. She helped him run his illegal gambling business after he was indicted on federal racketeering charges in 2005 and placed under house arrest.

Mary Ann Gianelli's sister, Elizabeth, is married to John J. Connolly. Connolly is a former FBI agent who was convicted of federal racketeering charges for protecting long-time informants James "Whitey" Bulger and Stephen "The Rifleman" Flemmi from prosecution. He was also convicted of murder in Florida in November 2008 for plotting with the two gangsters to orchestrate the 1982 slaying of a Boston businessman.

Arthur headed a sprawling criminal enterprise whose members were involved in gambling, money laundering, loan sharking, arson, and extortion. Him and his three co-defendents listed above, including Alessandra’s paternal grandfather Frank Iacaboni, committed hundreds of crimes between 1999 and 2005.

Millions of dollars flowed through the organization's gambling operation, which took bets on football games and later shifted its operation from Massachusetts to an Internet operation in Costa Rica. The organization also created phony companies to hide profits. Gianelli had ties to the Mafia, making weekly payments to reputed New England underboss Carmen "Cheese Man" DiNunzio.

Note: for more info on the Patriarca crime family (Carmen is now the boss), there are links at the end of the post under Appendix A.

One of the victim’s of this organized crime crew was Boston Bruins Hall of Fame goaltender Gerry Cheevers. He was threatened by a leg breaker for not repaying a loan.

Gianelli, Dennis Albertelli, and Frank Iacoboni were also charged with arson for allegedly plotting to burn down the Big Dog Sports Grille in North Reading in 2003 in an attempt to intimidate the owners into selling them another bar that they were poised to open in Lynnfield.

November 9, 2009: (source)

Frank Iacaboni was sentenced to 15 years and 3 months in federal prison and fined $10,000 for his role in a gambling and extortion ring.

He was sentenced in U.S. District Court on charges of racketeering conspiracy, extortion, use of fire to commit extortion, attempted arson of the Big Dog Sports Grille in Reading Nov. 13, 2003, and operating illegal sports and football card gambling businesses.

The Judge noted that he received 29 letters on Mr. Iacaboni’s behalf, including those from a state representative and a city councilor. Those two letters were from state Rep. Dennis A. Rosa and Ward 4 City Councilor Robert A. Salvatelli, both of Leominster. (Alessandra’s maternal great uncle!).

Summary of Findings

Alessandra’s maternal family is extremely powerful and well-connected in Leominster. They have held/still hold positions of power in schools, government, and local business. Her maternal great uncle vouched for her paternal grandfather when he was charged by the federal government for multiple crimes in association with the Mafia. Her paternal uncle was convicted for murdering a man in 1995.

Her maternal family owns the Paisano’s pizza "restaurant", but this is only the tip of the iceberg. It is very likely that their businesses are all fronts for money laundering, illegal gambling, tax evasion, and more. At the very least, her maternal family has been involved in trying to lessen the charges for her paternal family.

Hope you all enjoyed this deep dive ☕️

Appendix A

Patriarca / La Cosa Nostra Crime Family

The bosses of the Boston Mafia

Alleged Underboss of the New England Family of La Cosa Nostra Sentenced to Six Years in Prison

New England mafia underboss Carmen DiNunzio back on the streets

Old Patriarca Famiglia: The Cheeseman Cometh?

VIDEO: How The Mafia CONQUERED Boston | The Patriarca Family Part 1

VIDEO: How The Mafia CONQUERED Boston | The Patriarca Family Part 2

VIDEO: Current State of the Patriarca Crime Family

#a. iacaboni #pls let me know if any corrections need to be made! #this was a labor of love lol #j. swayman #deep dive

[shapeshiftersvt]

M'Mothm'n.

Here's the thing about the Mothman. Even though he scared the ever-living shit out of the people who saw him, the speculation around him has become, over the years, actually very kind. What if he's only here to help? What if he's trying to warn us about impending disaster? What if that horrible feeling you got that something wasn't right, what if that was the Mothman telling you to look out, be careful, danger is coming, doom is nigh?

It's one thing to be a harbinger of doom; there are apparitions of ghostly black dogs all over the world that will give you that, red eyes and all. It's another to have one who actually means well.

I'm going to be an Old Queer for a minute, now, and talk about gay politics in the USA as I watched it over the past thirty years. My experience is my own; my history is shared, but not universal. Sound off in a reblog if you saw it happen differently. I want your story, too.

There’s a certain line the right wing in this country likes to use against The Gays, one I’ve heard since I was a small child. It goes: queer people are threatening our way of life. Queer people are the pebbles that start the avalanche of apocalypse, the collapse of civilization as we know it. If marriage becomes something other than Man + Woman, or if Man and Woman become something other than we think they are, then we will lose everything we know and love.

The rise of the Respectable Gay in the 1990s was a pushback against this. “See,” cried Degeneres and Savage and all the rest, “see how we’re so very normal? We want to get married and buy a house and have 2.1 kids and a white picket fence. Our marriage doesn’t threaten yours. How could it? We’re just normal, ordinary, white, moderately wealthy, people. We're like you."

This move shifted the narrative across the 90s and 00s. Homosexuality was officially decriminalized in '03, and we got gay marriage in 2015, and every year in between there was another Influential Gay Person saying "I just want to get married, that's all." There were even commercials about it, remember? “Gay marriage is just like yours. Only gayer.”

But... in the mid-2010s this was already wearing thin. Transgender people, gender non-conforming people, gays who didn’t go in for two-person marriage, everyone in the greater LGBTQ+ umbrella who had thrown their support behind gay marriage and waited our turn to get our rights; we'd all been mobilizing, too. We'd been putting together our own coalitions, under the aegis of the greater umbrella or not. And, here's the crux: we were, in fact, threatening the right-wing Christian ways of life. Just by existing in public, by talking and writing and performing and living our lives during the Transgender Tipping Point, trans and non-binary people like me were challenging the foundational definitions of Man and Woman as exclusive, all-encompassing categories of humanity.

It wasn't just the right, either. Straight liberals who were totally on board with gay marriage would look at us and say, "um, wait, really? Really, like that? Do you have to?" The discomfort was palpable. This was my experience with my own family; they were fine with me dating and getting married, but a new set of pronouns was forcing something on them. It was hurting something intrinsic to their identities. It was, in a very real way, threatening them.

I'm happy and grateful to say that most of them learned to discard the parts of their own foundations that excluded me from existence. This is rarely easy for anyone. I'm honestly proud of those members of my family who have learned to look the Mothman in the eyes, so to speak, and think, "He's just here to help."

("Pop your hood up," I told this model, "and look at them. They should see their impending death in your eyes."

Layton is an incredible model, a great human, and they know and love the Mothman. They knew exactly what I meant.)

It can be awful, sometimes. When I'm unapologetically myself in public, I can walk past a line of protesters at Planned Parenthood and see the hostility rise up, the anger and revulsion and fear. And I do think it is fear, at the core of it. I think something in them knows that I'm just one of 2.6 million transgender people out here, living my life, casually being a harbinger of their doom.

Next time they come to Brattleboro, I ought to greet them with red glasses and a twelve-foot wingspan.

#mothman #cryptids #queer cryptids #the cryptid collection #the trans experience

[astonmartingf]

I FEEL THE RUSH. . . 🏁🍒🏎️

LICENSE TO DRIVE ; f1 driver!oc x platonic! f1 grid

. . . with no available seat in the f1 grid, and winning the formula w championship, katarina looks for different prospects and lands on a wec seat

amgf it's refreshing to update this, especially after finishing ybom, it's a palate cleanser for me and i love her sm, i have three drafts on ltd

"RED FLAG! WE HAVE RED FLAG— Four cars crashed into each other, reaching the barriers. All cars are pitted and the race comes to a halt."

Those were the exact words the commentators said, and before Katarina knew it the season was over before the race even began.

That was two months ago, 2015 is starting and despite winning the Formula 2 Championship, she wasn't exactly feeling like a "winner".

Sure she could appeal to join Formula 1 by now, but Katarina the mere 17 year old thought the chances were slim. Sure she's capable of pulling a Max Verstappen, but the female didn't like sharing the spotlight.

Especially not to Max, she'd rather start on a different track. Something in the same playing field, but of a different caliber. Something like the World Endurance Championship.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Her father, Alvize Lombardi bursts out from the kitchen, facing his daughter right in front of the computer desk.

"It's just testing and I already told Ma about it. She's okay." Katarina shrugs before sending emails to three different teams. One thing about Katarina is her persistence, her need to create a space for herself, and if it means personally emailing team principals and asking about open spots she will do it.

"Ay, of course your mama will say yes she's just like you! Always racing, always busy with the cars. Slow down piccolina, we both know you'll get back on the track before you know it."

Katarina blinks, realizing how much she's been clicking reload, waiting for a response in her mail. Turning around away from the screen Katarina catches her father busy in the kitchen preparing snacks.

"You know what, you're right. I will get that seat." Standing up, Katarina wraps her arms around her father from behind.

"Thank you papa." The older male rests his hands on the smaller pair engulfing his waist.

"Now. Go bring this to the garage, or else your mother will never leave under that car she's been fixing."

"I GOT A SEAT! MANTHEY RACING!" Her excitement can be heard throughout their whole house. Her father in the kitchen swerved through the kitchen island, grabbing the female's shoulders for support reading the email in front of the screen.

"There are only two drivers at the moment, and if they don't find anyone, they say they'll give the seat to me." Katarina stares at the screen, rereading the letter word for word in case she misses something.

Eyes locked on the screen, Katarina blinks, losing focus of the screen. Only then did the tears fall from her eyes.

"Piccolina... we're proud of you. You did this all on your own." Katarina shakes her head left and right, taking comfort in the arms of her father.

"I wouldn't go far without you two– you're always there even though you don't like to see me race. I'm sorry for racing all the time."

Alvize tuts in disagreement, "Piccolina, I'm sorry you think that way. Seeing you race reminds me of when I first met your mother... wild and free. And that scares me, have you seen your mother drive?"

"Talking behind my back to our daughter?"

Katarina turns around to see her mother, blonde hair sticking out in different directions. Katarina could guess that she spent her time under her kart, meticulously checking for upgrades.

"Ma, you don't need to repair my kart for a whole year." Eyes wide, beaming with enthusiasm as Katarina watches her mother realize what the excitement in the living room was all about.

"You're racing?"

She bobs her head repeatedly, "I got a seat in Porsche Manthey Racin–"

"NO!"

"What?" Her mother's outburst caught her off-guard. "But you said yes, I told you about it."

Her mother shakes her head, “I thought you’d end up in a Formula 1 Team, not Endurance Racing. Withdraw right now.”

“Ma?” Katarina keeps her eyes at her mother, looking for the answers, an explanation at least to her actions. But before the younger female could ask her more, she left the dining room leaving Katarina frozen in the living room.

KATARINA’S LEGS BOUNCE UP AND DOWN AS THE CLOCK TICKS DOWN, marking the end of the first race in 6 Hours of Silverstone. Beside Katarina are her teammates racing for Porsche Manthey Racing in the LTGME Pro Category after being cleared to join. It was all new for Katarina, and a little bit too much.

Especially after her mother’s disapproval— something she took to heart. Her mother had been the one supporting her since she began karting, her mother who shared the same hobbies and dreams with. Her mother whom she wanted to be like, the dream of racing all began with her. And when she expressed her disapproval in Katarina in Endurance Racing, it hit hard for the female.

But like her mother, Katarina didn’t stop and instead pursued racing for Porsche, spending her summer in Germany training and testing cars. It bothered her how her mother didn’t even explain as to why she doesn’t agree with her racing. And now, at Katarina’s long awaited debut, yet her mother is nowhere to be seen.

She managed to contribute two hours worth of driving in the Silverstone track, it was unlike the cars she drove before— despite the months of training nothing could compare to the actual race, fortunately she managed to complete two hours successfully before switching with a third driver.

As the clock ticks down to the last few seconds, Katarina keeps her eyes on the leaderboard screen, looking for their team position. Just finishing behind AF Course, in second place on her first race with the team. After receiving congratulations from the team, Katarina gets ready to leave, right outside the Porsche garage her father greets her, with her mother following beside him.

“Ma! You came!” The tiredness and sore feeling leaving her body as she wraps her arms around her parents. “I thought… you don’t hate me?” Katarina bursts into tears hearing her mother’s laughter, wiping the tears falling from her daughter’s eyes.

“How could I ever hate you? I was just scared— I raced to you know. Seeing you achieve these, and race, it only dawned to me then that this was no longer a hobby, or a sport to you. I’m so proud of you Katarina, I would never hate you. I want you to be safe first, and happy, we will always be here to support you wherever you go.”

“WE’D LIKE TO EXTEND OUR WARM REGARDS TO KATARINA ANNELI LOMBARDI. We've seen your prospects from World Endurance Racing and would like to offer you a seat in Williams Racing for the 2016 Season. Signed, Claire Williams, Deputy Team Principal for Williams Racing.”

Katarina turned around, facing her parents with tears streaming down her face, “I got invited by Claire Williams.”

#f1 driver oc #f1 female driver #f1 x oc #f1 fem driver #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc

[h0ney-fiction]

29

masterlist

Synopsis: Stephon (Swerve) Strickland's childhood best friend's baby sister has a birthday party...

Word Count: 2,166.

A/N: *fans self* I guess something about Swerve brings out my nasty lol. I had fun writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! Written to the same song by Tyla.

Ratings/Warnings: Grown. Alcohol Use. Devil's Lettuce Use. Unprotected Sex.

“Happy birthday!”

The room burst with cheers as I walked through the door of my older brother’s house. I was dressed in a mid-length cowl cocktail dress under the impression my brother was taking me out to dinner with my family. Instead, I see my family and all of our closest friends gathered in his living room which has been fully decorated in my favorite color for my birthday. There was even an arch of balloons that led to his backyard. 

“You didn’t think we were gonna let you turn 29 and not celebrate, did you?” My brother, Shawn, teased. I punched his arm playfully.

“29 is such a boring age. The real party is 30,” I retorted.

“Not in this family, every year is a party!” My mom interjected from the crowd causing everyone to laugh. 

The party quickly got into swing as friends old and new mingled. Through the crowd, I saw my brother’s childhood best friend, Stephon, come towards me.

“Stephie!” I cried.

He smiles, “I have not heard you say that in forever.” 

I blushed. “It hasn’t been that long since the last time I saw you.”

He raised his eyebrows, I could see him do the mental math.

“There was your grandmother’s funeral…” he started

“Then the family reunion. You and Shawn were too busy trying to flirt with these girls on vacation.”

“Hey! In my defense, your brother did marry one of them.” He put his hands up defensively. 

“And that was what? A year ago? It sounds like we see each other all the time.”

“Yeah,” He started, his eyes focusing in on me. I couldn’t help but heat up underneath his gaze. He opened his mouth to say more but my brother’s wife, Angie, walked toward us.

“What are you guys doing?” She said, her tone teasing.

I blushed, and Stephon backed away. It wasn’t until Angie’s presence I realized how close our bodies were to each other. 

“Nothing!”‌ I said quickly, not helping the situation. 

“We were just calculating the last time we had a conversation with each other,” Stephon rolled over my awkwardness. 

Angie raised her eyebrows. “Well you two love birds don’t take too long, there is a whole party here!” She said before walking away to the food table.

My face was beet-red as Stephon laughed. 

“I’m gonna go…” I trailed off, walking aimlessly to the backyard.

“Cam?…Camila!” I could hear him call after me but I slipped through the door and had a conversation with the first person who made eye contact with me. 

***

I avoided Stephon for the rest of the party. I could feel his eyes throughout the night as I skated through conversations, ate food, or made a drink pretending he wasn’t watching me. 

It was a little after midnight the party started to die down and it was only my brother, his wife, and Stephon left. We were all sitting outside on their back porch, stargazing. 

“You’re wasted, babe,” Angie teased my brother.

“That is the last time I trust Aunt Maya with the house punch,” my brother hiccuped.

“She overdoes it every time, don’t you remember Thanksgiving of 2015? Everyone was wasted before the turkey,” I laughed causing Stephon to join me.

“I remember that! I came for dessert and everyone was throwing up or asleep,” He added. 

“You’re sober, Steph. Why don’t you take the birthday girl home?” Angie smiled.

She knew what she was doing, but Steph obliged in being naive.

He took the hint to go and got up from the porch. 

“Your chariot awaits, madam,” He teased putting out his hand to me.

I rolled my eyes and took it, letting him pull me up. I lost my balance, causing him to pull me to him, holding my shoulders. 

“Woah!” I said, catching my balance. I looked up at Stephon and began to feel the warmth I felt earlier that night. 

“Let’s take you home,” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

The walk to his car was quiet. He opened the door for me and strapped the seatbelt.

“You don’t have to,” I argued.

“I want to,” He replied before checking my dress wasn’t hanging over before closing the door. 

“Do you still live in Glenmont?” He asked, pulling up his phone’s GPS.

I nodded. 

He turned on the radio and a Tyla song began to fill the air.

“I love this song!” I shouted, realizing how much alcohol I consumed that evening. 

He smiled and left the station as it was before driving off. It was a hot night so he let his windows down and opened up his sunroof. I loved the night sky so I took the view from his sunroof in. 

“Is this a new car?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’m working with a good promotion now. Things are steady.”

I understood and let the song finish and a new one filled the air. Stephon and Shawn met each other in the first grade. He’s been in my life longer than the years without. When I was a teenager I used to have a massive crush on him but he enlisted and didn’t give me the time of day beyond being Shawn’s baby sister. I stuffed those feelings in me for over a decade.

Could there really be a chance? 

Stephon took the exit off the highway and began to approach the quiet street where my house resided. As he parked in front of my place, he took the keys out of the ignition. 

“I have a birthday present for you that I didn’t want to give you in front of your family,” he started.

“Oh? And what is it?” I inquired.

“Open the glove box.” He smiled.

I opened the glovebox and found a rectangular box wrapped in gold paper. I unraveled it to reveal a pack of gold-foiled pre-rolled joints. I squealed at the sight.

“How did you know I had my eyes on these wrappers?”

“You should be more careful about what you like on Twitter.”

“Who checks other people’s Twitter likes?” I tease. 

"People who care for you do," he shrugged.

He took the pack from my hands, opening and taking one out. He takes the lighter from the compartment and lights it for me, passing it over.

I take it and inhale deeply, feeling the effects instantly.

I exhaled. The night air felt sticky from the humidity.

I take another puff.

He watches me intently.

I feel like a teenager again.

"What if I told you that I liked you and have liked you since I was 15?"

He looks at me surprised.  "I didn't know that."

"You never paid attention. Even when you left for the military. I used to bug my mom to send you a care package under the guise it was from all of us."

I pass the joint over. He takes it and smokes it.

"You're drunk, Cam."

"Not that drunk, Stephie," I mocked, taking the joint back.

"What would happen if I told you that I liked you?" he asked

"Then I'd say you're full of shit," I took a hit.

"Well I like you, Camila," He said.

I could hear the honesty in his voice.

"Stephie," I started.

"Cam," He mocked.

He took the joint.

I watch him take a drag. I take a second to think, the high hitting me harder than I expected.

"Okay, then why didn't you make a move on me back in the day?"

"You're Shawn's sister. I've seen a side of him you haven't. I never wanted to be on the receiving end of his fists."

I rolled my eyes, "Shawn loves you. He'd understand."

"You're also 4 years younger than me."

"So?"

"You just turned 15 when I left for basic training. It wasn't right."

"So you're telling me that if I was older, you would've made a move?"

"Probably."

He put out the joint.

"Well, I'm 29 now," I declared.

"You are."

"So?"

"You tell me."

He leans into me and presses his lips against mine, gently. I returned the kiss, the effects of the joint mixing with the alcohol made everything more sensitive. I felt myself moan against him as I let him open my mouth with his tongue.

We parted for a brief moment.

"Let's go inside."

I guided him to my bedroom. We slowly took each other's clothes off, kissing and licking each inch of skin we exposed.

I let my hands caress his face and ran my hands through his locs. They were up in a ponytail, but he took off the elastic to let them hang down. When we were fully naked, I got down on my knees and kissed his happy trail and thighs before taking him in my mouth. He took his head back and moaned my name. I rolled my tongue around him as he took a clump of my hair into his hand.

"Who taught you this?" he teased.

"I've had practice" I smirked, before returning to the task at hand.

I took as much of him in as I could before gagging, causing him to let out a deep moan. He pulled me away from him and brought me back up, pushing me onto my bed. He spread open my legs and began to teasingly kiss my toes. He was deliberately slow kissing upwards to my thighs, hips, and up to my breast where his tongue began to suckle and play with. His hands finally found my sweetness. He let his thumb and middle finger find my bud as his other fingers massaged my folds.

I moaned loudly.

"Shhh, don't wake up the neighbors," he teased before continuing his assault on my breast.

When his finger finally entered me, I arched my back at the sensation. I couldn't contain my moans as his finger curled in me and his thumb pressed hard on my bud.

"Stephie!"

"Shhh," he reminded me before switching his attention to my other breast.

When his tongue met my nipple, it sent a shockwave down my body and into my core.

"Stephie, I need you," I whispered.

"Not yet," he replied.

His finger quickened its pace and another digit entered me. I cried out in pleasure, not caring about the neighbors anymore.

"Fuck," I whimpered.

He released himself from my nipple, leaning over my pussy. He began to eat me out. My legs were shaking in an instant. He took his free hand and pushed down on my stomach.

"Stephonnn," I whined.

I could feel myself coming close. I couldn't form a sentence, instead, my moans increased in pitch.

He pulled his face away and let his thumb continue the assault on my bud. He suspended me right at the edge, waiting.

"Stephie, pleaseee," I begged.

He smiled before taking my bud into his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue one last time before pulling away.

I moaned, being so close yet so far from orgasm.

"Do you have a condom?"

"I have an IUD," I replied.

"Birth control, huh?" He teased, entering me.

I was moaning before I could think of a quick enough retort. He was stretching me out in the best way.

"Fuck, Stephie," I cried.

"Cam," he groaned.

He continued to push deeper into me, causing me to roll my eyes and arch my back. I wasn't going to last long from all of the teasing.

"Stephie, Stephie, Stephie," I panted in his ear as he fucked me.

"Come, baby," he said.

That was the only thing I needed as my orgasm came over me, hard. He thrusted harder, riding it out and talking me through it.

"You're doing so good, baby."

"Fucking beautiful,"

"I love how your pussy is gripping me,"

My body was twitching as he continued to fuck me through my orgasm, not letting up.

"Don't stop," I begged.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned.

"Please," I said, feeling another orgasm creeping.

"That's right, cum for me, baby."

His command made me lose it as a second, even stronger, orgasm washed over me.

"You're taking me so well," he encouraged.

I couldn't stop the string of curse words that were escaping me.

"I'm so fucking close," He groaned.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back, kissing me. It was sloppy and desperate.

"Fuck, Cam, you feel so fucking good."

"Cum in me, Stephie."

That was the final straw. With a few more thrusts he released inside of me. His moans were deep, almost a growl.

He slowly rode out his orgasm before pulling out.

"You're amazing," He mumbled, kissing my forehead before leaving the room.

I couldn't reply. I was spent. He returned with a warm washcloth and cleaned me up, then himself. He pulled the covers over us and cuddled me, holding me against his chest.

"Happy Birthday, Cam," He mumbled, falling asleep.

"Thank you, Stephie," I said, before falling asleep.

#swerve strickland x oc #aew smut #swerve strickland smut #swerve strickland #aew fanficition #honey fiction

[remapped-soul]

solar power

when marc can't take care of himself, valentino steps in.

a valentino rossi/marc marquez fic for beloved @carlosheinz <3 self care is hard but we're not alone and i hope you know that <3

read on ao3

(for tw check the tags)

Valentino can’t stand Marc.

It’s a constant feeling nestled between his third and fourth rib, but the intensity varies. On a good day, Valentino simply ignores Marc. On a bad day, Valentino wants to get his hands around his neck and squeeze until the tendons crack under his knuckles. He got a taste of it in 2014. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. What would have happened if there were no cameras around them?

Marc’s bad luck starts in 2020 and it doesn’t stop. A bad day for Marc means a bad day for Valentino. A bad year for Marc translates into a bad year for Valentino. It’s worse than 2015, more difficult to swallow than 2018. Valentino wants to scream until he runs out of breath and chokes to death.

2022 is the worst of it all. Marc moves to Madrid to speed up his recovery, and it leaves Valentino baffled and a little irritated. The big city won’t be able to replace the things he gets for granted in the countryside: the quiet, the nature, the clean air.

Marc moves to Madrid and Valentino follows against his better judgment. Madrid is fucking insane, but so is driving 20 hours from Tavullia. At least, when Marc doesn’t answer his phone, he is a 20-minute drive away from Valentino’s place in town, close enough to reach before Valentino’s desire to strangle him subsides.

+

Valentino can’t stand Marc when Marc doesn’t answer his phone. Sometimes Alex picks up when he’s around, saying that his brother is sleeping, eating, exercising. Marc is busy and he can’t come to the phone. Those are the days Valentino drops the car keys back into the glass bowl and gets back to his life. But Alex is not always with Marc, so Valentino gets in his car, he drives with fingers gripping the steering wheel until he parks a little crooked in front of Marc’s house.

When Marc doesn’t answer his phone it means he didn’t get out of bed in the morning, so Valentino has to do it for him. He is annoying like that. Valentino knows where the spare key is, hidden under a fancy pot with fancy hydrangeas around the corner. Of all the windows the house has, there is only one door. Valentino grabs the key and unlocks the door, lets himself inside.

“Sono a casa,” he yells to the empty hallway, the empty living room and the empty kitchen.

The air smells like dust and engine oil, things thrown hazardously around. Valentino stands in the middle of the living room, surrounded by the big couch and the big table, and looks around with his hands on his hips. He’s listening. The house is quiet.

“Brat,” he mutters under his breath. He gets to work. He opens the windows, lets the fresh air in. He gathers the clothes and redbull caps and puts them in one place, fluffs the pillows and loads the dishwasher with dirty plates and cups of coffee. Il dottore turned housemaid. If this is what retirement is about, he doesn’t want it.

When the place looks less like a dumpster and more like a place designed for humans, Valentino sends a prayer to whoever is listening and goes looking for Marc in his bedroom. He opens the door, steps inside. It’s dark, claustrophobic. This time, Valentino doesn’t pull the curtains apart, doesn’t open the windows. He makes his way to the bed, where the blankets sit still, a bump in the middle the only indication there is a person underneath it all. Valentino sighs.

“Sun will do you good, moccioso viziato.”

Marc’s head pops up, unruly curls and unruly smile. “Vale?” His voice sounds hoarse. It hurts Valentino’s brain just hearing it.

“Shhh,” he says as he climbs in bed, slipping under the blankets. Marc is on his good side, his injured arm placed carefully on top. Valentino settles behind him, head tucked into Marc’s shoulder, arm around Marc’s waist.

“Sono qui,” he says before he presses a kiss to Marc’s neck. Marc melts in the embrace, breath stuttering out of him in a hiccup.

“Vale.”

They will stay like this for a while. Then, Valentino will pull Marc out of bed. He will clean this room too, and take a walk with Marc in the garden, force him to a light run because only his arm is broken, not his fucking legs. Valentino will help Marc stretch his muscles, wash his hair, and at the end of the day he will ask for a hefty compensation because he is Il dottore, not a fucking maid.

+

Valentino hates speaking Spanish and he hates Spanish food, but when Marc refuses to eat, Valentino cooks for him. He speaks in stilted phrases to the women at the market, Tias and Tios that have no idea who he is because this country worships a different kind of God. He learns how to cook escudella and callos a la madrileña because Marc is a spoiled brat and doesn’t want to eat unless it’s his grandmother’s recipe. One phone conversation with Juliá about Marc’s favourite dishes is one conversation too many. But he makes the call anyway and he listens to Juliá’s guidance over the speaker phone as the stew bubbles on the stove. The house smells like meat and vegetables for a long time after, rich and savory that it almost makes Valentino’s mouth water. He’d eat a bowl if it wasn’t for the soft texture of the carrots he despises so much. Marc stops being annoying for a second, he eats two bowls of escudella sitting with his legs crossed on the wooden floor, Valentino next to him munching on a piece of bread. When he’s finished, his smile kicks up a notch before he lunges for Valentino and presses his sticky mouth to Valentino’s cheeks and neck and mouth, wherever he finds skin. His giggles rattle Valentino’s ribcage where they are pressed together.

“See if I ever cook for you, brat,” Valentino tells him when Marc runs out of steam, slumping against his chest on the couch.

“You will,” Marc smiles at him, chin resting on his hands, feet kicking up in the air. Marc is tolerable when his arm behaves and he forgets about the pain for a while. Valentino doesn’t want to break too many things if Marc offers him his smile constantly.

Valentino gets his hands into those curls, tugs at the roots until Marc’s eyelashes flutter. He doesn’t say anything, because they both know Valentino will break his promise the next time Marc refuses to eat. He will cook for Marc again. It doesn’t matter if he hates the process when he loves the result.

+

Marc is the most infuriating when he can’t stop talking. Valentino doesn’t think Marc is aware of it. It happens when he least expects it, when they’re doing the most mundane shit.

They’re running around the track in Tavullia, and between one ragged breath and another, Marc says. “Maybe if I trained harder, maybe if I worked harder, I’d get better. I’m not doing enough. It’s never enough.” It’s random and unexpected and it distracts Valentino so that he almost trips over his legs and face plants the ground.

It happens when they’re cooking when Valentino is making fresh pesto and Marc is dicing the zucchini. It goes well until Marc tries to dice his fingers too. He nips the tip of his index with the sharp blade, starts swearing up and down, “You can’t do anything right. Idiota.” Valentino almost sticks his own hand in the boiling pasta water because self-inflicted pain is easier to bear than whatever shit Marquez is saying. He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs the first-aid kit and tends to Marc’s tiny wound.

By now, Valentino learned to expect this kind of talk from Marc, but he has yet to learn how to deal with it. He either gapes like a fish as Marc smiles through his horrid words or Valentino leaves the room, fuming, because he can’t yell at a person who thinks they deserve to be yelled at. The crash in Jerez must have damaged more than Marc’s bones. There are enough doctors around Marc to take care of his injuries for him, but who’s taking care of the nasty voices inside his mind? Valentino doesn’t think he is equipped enough for it, not when he can barely stop himself from pressing his fingernail to Marc’s wound in an attempt to make him realise that maybe his way of dealing with the recovery process is not the best one.

“It’s just a scratch, Marc, not the end of the world.”

Marc shrugs, not lifting his eyes from the chopped zucchini. “Then what do you call Jerez 2020?”

Valentino raises an eyebrow at him. “An accident,” he says in English. “Un accidente. Un incidente. If they invented another word for it, I don’t know it. ”

“Only idiots make accidents.”

“Would you tell that to Jorge?”

Marc inhales sharply at that. Fabio would probably knock him over at the next race if Marc called Jorge Martin an idiot.

Valentino smiles. “That’s what I thought.”

Marc frowns. “Te odio.”

“No, you don’t.” And to drive his point home, Valentino grabs Marc’s hands and bites his knuckles until Marc’s face smooths into a laugh and he forgets how the word idiota sounds in his mouth. If Valentino still hears the echoes of that words weeks after, it’s his problem to deal with.

+

Everything comes to a halt when they are doing laundry and Marc looks at a pair of pants and says, “Maybe I shouldn’t be left out on the track if I keep crashing like this.”

Valentino sees red. He tries to understand most of the time, but his understanding has a limit too. Now all he wants is to scream at Marc to shut up, shut up, shut up. There must be something visible on his face because Marc takes a step back as Valentino turns toward him, hands held high in front of him as if Valentino will attack any minute.

“What?” Marc says, shoulders raised to the ears. “I haven’t seen you this angry since Sepang 2015.”

Valentino ignores him. He grabs Marc’s face in his hands and says, “Amore,” because Valentino never uses pet names unless he wants to distract Marc. It works well this time as well. Marc shuts up and blushes a pretty red, dropping his hands to rest in the crook of Valentino’s elbows. “I’m breaking up with you if you don’t win your ninth.” He says it in Spanish too to drive the point home.

Marc frowns, his brain registering the words. “In case you haven’t noticed—“

“Bodies heal, that’s what they do. Unless you’re dead, there is no reason for you to think otherwise.”

Marc’s frown deepens. “But—“

Valentino presses his lips against the wrinkle on his forehead, down at the corner of his eye, on the edge of his jaw. Marc shudders in his arms.

“You once told me you can be faster than me.”

“I am,” Marc says, eyes closed, breathing hard against Valentino.

“Faster than you, I mean.”

Valentino smiles. “Not sure I believe you.”

For the first time in months, Marc’s eyes twinkle with hunger. “I am. I’ll prove it to you.”

“Good.” Valentino kisses him hard. “You can start doing that, but after you’re done with the laundry. I’m not your maid.”

Marc does not finish the laundry. Neither does Valentino. The sunset catches them in bed, sheets draped all around them as Valentino presses his grievances into Marc’s golden skin until the room lights up with Marc’s giggles, with promises of being kinder to himself in the process of healing. Marc will probably forget come morning. He is infuriating. But Valentino knows where the spare key is and how to cook escudella and calçotada the way Marc likes them. If Marc forgets a thousand times, Valentino will remind him a thousand times.

After all, there is still a race to win.

#rosquez #valentino rossi #marc marquez #rosquez in the year of our lord 2k23 #moto gp rpf #luna.writes #my stories #tw mentions of injuries #tw food #radical self care #marc is really bad at self care and everything that comes with it #i altered the real life events so it fits my narrative #im a little nervous about it tbh. i think i stepped out my comfort zone a bit lol #thanks to lu and maina and mery for all the specific spanish/italian stuff

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I watched Man Up (2015) a couple weeks ago, and I have been wanting to write a post about it ever since, because... how can I put this.

Man Up is a romcom that is structured in surprisingly classical ways. The action happens within roughly 24 hours. There's good twists and turns you don't expect. It has sweet quiet moments complemented by high emotion moments. The casting is really good in its aim for naturalism in both looks and performances.

But then... the movie shoots itself on the foot with...

sex and alcohol.

And you'll say "Scarlet, you are a prude!!!" Yes, I kinda am, but the fascinating thing is that it isn't about that? I don't think I've ever watched a romcom where these were problems at the level of plot and characterization in such an obvious, stark way.

Let's talk alcohol first because it will help me explain the plot at the same time.

We open with our main character, Nancy, trying to gather the courage to go to an engagement party. She gives up and orders some food and drinks from the minibar. She ends up going to the party where she has at least two mojitos. The next morning she has a mild hungover, and takes the train home for her parents' 40th wedding anniversary.

She accidentally meets Jack and they go on a date. They chat and drink beers and eat chips. He then takes her to a Mexican cantina where they do tequila shots and chat some more. Then he takes her to a bowling alley where they do bowling, eat some snacks, and drink some beers. Then they go back to the cantina, and bump into Jack's ex and her new partner. They have more beer, whiskey, and another tequila shot. Nancy then goes home to her parents' party, and Jack goes on another date, where he, of course, drinks another beer.

Even at these point and to the end, both characters look and behave completely sober.

Meanwhile, Nancy's sister, her husband, and their parents are preparing for the pary by... you got it... going to the store to purchase booze! An important part of a scene is about setting up the white wine sofa and the red wine sofa.

Looking for Nancy, Jack mistakenly crashes on a teen house party, where there's, of course, alcohol, and he holds a girl's hair while she vomits and he tells her of a hungover cure.

And I'm here like... it's not only a bit ridiculous that apparently Jack's alcohol resistance is over 2L of beer and 4 tequila shots combined, and he doesn't need to go to the bathroom and is perfectly capable of the fade-to-black sex at the end, but... what was the point? Why does this movie focus so much on alcohol and then never says anything about it? It's not a commentary on modern day hopelessness, addiction or consummerism or anything like that.

At what point of your screenplay writing you stop and think "mmm, isn't all this drinking becoming a little repetitive?" IDK. If it has no meaning, maybe switch the first date thing for ice-cream. Maybe they only have food at the Mexican cantina the first time they go there. IDK. But as it is, it is distracting.

Then, sex. The first one is classic and well known: the sex joke that is not a joke. The "writer thinks people saying embarrassing sex things in a public setting constitutes a joke". It's a truth universally acknowledged that a joke must have a set up and a punchline and that the relationship between those two must have a degree of absurdity to it that causes hilarity. "This situation IRL would make people laugh nervously because they'd be uncomfortable" does not constitute a joke, and is, as a general rule, not funny. Putting it several times into the story won't make it funny either.

Then there's... the stalker. Nancy has a stalker, and the movie attempts to play it for laughs. They went to school together. He knows where her parents live. He knows she has no social media. He's taken pictures of her in her bedroom that she didn't know of. He attempts to blackmail her into giving him sexual favors. THIS MOVIE TREATS THIS AS FUNNY IN THE YEAR OF THE LORD 2015.

Jack and Nancy are presented as opposites -Nancy is cynical, Jack is the hopeless romantic that opens his notebook in the middle of the date to write her name and surround it with heart doodles. No, that happens in the movie, really. There's also a running gag that whenever they dance his hands automatically go to her butt. He then grabs it in the middle of her parents' wedding anniversary party. In front of everyone. WHILE EVERYONE IS SPECIFICALLY LOOKING AT THEM. That's... that's not very character consistent, movie.

And then there's... the ending. There's this whole tension throughout the movie about how Nancy is supposed to be at her parents' wedding anniversary instead of her date with Jack. They lose each other when she's too quiet inviting him and he's too distracted to notice that she's inviting him to go with her. Her dad wonders if she'll bring him to the party and if the date won't be their anniversary as well. When Nancy's stalker pretends he's Jake, Nancy is framed as feeling alienated from the party. She comes back to herself to give her speech, and then Jack storms in the middle of it.

All this set up is building the importance of this family and this community as the framework where the kind of committed, trusting, vulnerable relationship Jack seeks and Nancy wants but is afraid of can flourish. Nancy's parents have been together for 40 years and they are happy and they have friends and family they love and are loved by! But the movie doesn't end with Jack being welcomed into this circle.

It ends with Jack and Nancy leaving the party to go have sex in a bathroom, and Nancy telling her stalker that she'll send him pictures. I kid you not. It's just so jarringly anticlimactic that way.

It was such a strange experience, because we often talk of the sex scene or sex-related scene that is there just to have it, but that contributes nothing to the plot and could have been cut without the movie losing anything, but in this case it actually made it a less cohesive, less consistent, less focused story just by being included. That's something alright.

[ms-hells-bells]

www .wbrz .(com) /news/investigative-unit-rape-victim-ordered-to-pay-her-abuser-child-support/

oh my god, it's real. it's so egregious, and i misunderstood what you said as that it was a reddit story, that i didn't believe it. i have never heard of anything like this in recent US history in my life. his connections have to be insane. (it doesn't say, but this occurred in louisiana)

PONCHATOULA- It's one of the most egregious cases victims' advocates tell the WBRZ Investigative Unit they have ever seen, after a judge awarded full custody to a woman's abuser and forced her to pay child support.

This story dates back decades and involves a woman who was raped at the age of 16 by a man almost twice her age.

Crysta Abelseth knows all too well about overcoming adversity. The now 32-year old is a mother of a teenager that WBRZ has made an editorial decision not to identify because she's a minor. Abelseth's daughter is the child of a rape.

Abelseth met John Barnes in the City of Hammond back in 2005. She says he offered to take her home after a night out at a local restaurant with friends.

"Instead of bringing me home, he brought me to his house," Abelseth recalled. "Once inside, he raped me on his living room couch."

Abelseth did not know Barnes before that night, but came away from it pregnant.

"Everyone assumed it [the pregnancy] was from a boyfriend, and I let them believe that," Abelseth recalled.

Abelseth had a healthy baby girl, and everything was fine until John Barnes learned sometime in 2011 that he might have a daughter.

"When my daughter was five years old, he found out about her, and once he found out about her, he pursued custody and wanted to take her away from me," Abelseth said. "They granted him 50/50 custody despite the fact that [the child] was caused by rape."

A DNA test is part of court documents that proves with 99.97% accuracy, John Barnes is the child's father. Barnes was 30 years old and Abelseth 16 at the time of conception. The act was illegal at the time, even if it were consensual; Abelseth maintains it never was.

Seven years ago, in July 2015, Abelseth pressed criminal charges against Barnes. A report she filed with the Tangipahoa Parish Sheriff's Office for simple rape details everything that was done to her. Abelseth said she waited to file the police report because she did not know the law.

"I thought if I didn't do it the next day, there was nothing I could do about it," Abelseth said. "I went to a trauma counselor, and he said, 'No, you have 30 years after you turn 18.'"

From 2015 until now, nothing has happened with the report. The Tangipahoa Parish Sheriff's Office says an investigation is still open.

"It was never assigned to a detective, and nothing was ever investigated," according to Abelseth.

A search of John Barnes shows he owns Gumbeaux Digital Branding, a web company in Ponchatoula. Barnes' website shows Ponchatoula Police as a client.

Court records in the Tangipahoa Parish courthouse show Barnes admitted he's the biological father of the child. This year, he was granted custody of that child even though a criminal complaint was filed in 2015. Mysteriously those records are under seal, hidden from public view.

Stacie Triche works for the non-profit organization Save Lives. She's helping Abelseth through this tangled web that allowed her perpetrator to get custody of the child.

"When I found out she was a rape victim, and this rapist could potentially get full custody, that's when I stepped in and said something has to be done about this," Triche said.

Things took a dramatic turn this year when a judge granted Barnes full custody. It happened after Barnes alleged Abelseth gave her daughter a cell phone. Abelseth said she was also ordered to pay Barnes child support.

"She's been forced to pay her perpetrator," Triche said. "Forced to pay her rapist child support and legal fees and give up custody of the child that's a product of the rape. It makes no sense."

The WBRZ Investigative Unit discussed this case with the Louisiana Foundation Against Sexual Assault (LFASA). Their lawyers said not only is this egregious, but they've never seen a case like it.

"It seems pretty straight forward that not only did a crime take place, but as a result of the crime, this person should not have custody of the child," Attorney Sean Cassidy with LFASA said.

Abelseth said for years she's tried to go about this the right way through the courts. But having her daughter taken away weeks ago over allegations she gave her a cell phone left her with a lack of confidence that she'll ever get a fair shake with justice impossible to find for the past 16 years.

"He's well connected," Abelseth said. "He's threatened me multiple times, saying he has connections in the justice system, so I better be careful and he can take her away anytime he wants to. I didn't believe him until it happened."

Abelseth said a hearing is scheduled next month to revoke Barnes' parental rights.

Barnes admitted over the phone Abelseth's daughter is his, but referred all questions to his lawyer, who never got back to the WBRZ Investigative Unit.

The Tangipahoa Parish Sheriff's Office continues to say the case is still open.

WBRZ reached out to Judge Jeffrey Cashe, who made the custody decision. An employee in his office said judicial canons prevent the judge from talking about it.

If you would like to help Crysta Abelseth with her mounting legal expenses, you can do that by clicking here.

[moose-a-licious]

Effigy Mounds- October 2023

“Why don’t you let me try taking pictures of you? Maybe it could help you heal. We could go somewhere unfamiliar and have some fun, you’d be in control.”

We got a car, we could go see my parents in person again for the first time in a long time. A haunted house road trip, we’d go to one in Duluth, one in Wyoming MN, and the one we used to all work at in Omaha. Erin and I hadn’t been to that one since we moved away from Omaha in 2015.

God, I hated this man. He had videos of himself sexually abusing kids at the haunt. One of them was only 14/15, I think he was selling the videos.

He raped one of Don’s women once, I think it was Tony that called him to a hotel room for a meeting when they heard. Don beat the shit out of him and pistol whipped him with his gun.

I hated those dresses they forced me to wear. I made myself into a big slenderman type character, I ran around on drywall stilts. The customers loved it so much I never had to put a dress back on. Jimmy, Erin, and a few others would take turns circling around me outside. They made sure kids wouldn’t be successful in pushing me over. I never fell once.

Erin started working there when they were 11. I was 15. Both Erin and I went to the same high school, Erin convinced me to come work there with them. That’s how we met Jimmy. It was a nice place to go after school to try to escape reality and find ourselves. All those kids working there were kind of lost, they needed a safe space to have fun.

“Ready for dreams, sleeping beauty?”

I looked up from the picture book in front of me. There is a page from it etched in my mind, it was drawn by an old Disney animator in the late 70’s? Very inappropriate. Looking back at this, that book might be another reason why I didn’t want to learn how to read.

“I want to be Ariel! She’s in the water with the fish.”

“No, you’re blonde not a redhead. Night night.”

I was 4 or 5 years old. I remember a camera set up in that basement. My parents don’t know that one, it’s connected with the church and my mom’s brother. I could never live if somehow those videos surfaced or they found out.

When I was around 16, I noticed a military grade flashlight my dad brought home from work. I don’t remember what drew me to it, but there was a tunnel that led to a sewage drain a few neighborhoods over. I made sure the flash light was fully charged and headed out with some friends.

We entered the tunnel and walked into the dark for 5ish minutes until the first turn. The tunnel turned right, on the cement wall a huge red devil was spray painted, it had a pig nose. After a few more minutes of walking, my flashlight started flickering, weird I made sure many times the charge was full. There were brick patches in the cement walls, it looked like rooms had been sealed up.

The flashlight died and we turned in the dark and ran holding hands making a chain. We couldn’t see a single thing.

When we finally exited the tunnel, there were cop cars flashing. I walked up to the officers while my friends ran past to the car we parked a block away. I placed my hand sweetly on one of their shoulders and said everything was fine, we were leaving now, just curious kids. They didn’t stop me. Was it my flashlight that called the cops? Did we trip something in the dark? Did someone in one of the houses see us enter and call them? The next day there were bars blocking the entrance. Jimmy said we need to find an angel saw.

Months ago a story came out in a state near us, i don’t remember which one. The daughter of a farmer said her dad made her help him bury bodies of prostitutes from Omaha in the late 80’s early 90’s. The cops wouldn’t spend the money to extract them to prove her case.

Another story came out about the corruption of someone supreme, rental apartments sitting empty but still bringing in cash.

1/7

[appropriatelystupid]

can you tell us the story of how you found your cats? i'm sick in bed and would love a heartwarming story :)

ooo you caught me at the right time because i just sat down with quite a bit of time to kill (also I hope you feel better soon <3)

when i say rey picked me i fucking mean it

it’s a lengthy so i’m gonna put it under the cut and kitten pics (first pics i took of the three of them)

our story begins all the way back in 2015:

over the summer i’d had to say good bye to one of my two remaining childhood cats, pongo, after ~17 years. my mom still had the last, catscan, but in september i would be leaving for a new job in a new state and she wouldn’t be able to come with me

there was a few months of training for this new job that meant i was in a situation where i couldn’t have pets yet but by mid december i was in my new apartment and DESPERATELY needed felines back in my life (legit this is the longest i’d ever lived without a cat in my home)

so finally, sorta settled between xmas and new years, i began my search for some kittens

i pretty quickly found the closest humane society to me and started scrolling their cats and there was a GORGEOUS long-haired tortie/calico kitten with a tragic backstory to boot

within a day or two i drove over to try and meet the kitten and see if any others seemed bonded to it because i knew i wanted two so they’d have company while i was at work

so i get there and do some intro stuff with the staff and run through the five cats i’d grown up with (and the bonus cats that crossed my life in various ways) clearly proving i wasn’t terrible and was absolutely qualified for adoption. the next step was meeting all the cats they had

(a brief note about the layout of this place: it’s located in an old house that’s been remodeled to serve this purpose so there are a handful of rooms set up for different groups of cats and each room has a door that’s almost fully a window so they can keep an eye out easier)

so we go into the first room that has the very little kittens and obviously they’re all adorable but they’re only just big enough to technically be ready to go to a new home so none of them jumped out at me

the second room, as it turned out, would be the game changer

in the second room only had two cats in it. lucy and leon (who i remembered had a terribly unflattering photo on the website) were nearly six months old and were very obviously related and likely part of why they were separated from the others

the room had a cat tree in one corner but also had a wall mounted about waist height on three of the walls for them to get to the window. there was a single folding chair placed to the side of the room

so we approach the second room and the employee showing me around tells me she has to take care of something and that i should just wait in the room until she’s done (majorly sus but i think she could tell rey was about to pick me). both kittens are standing in the door window watching me come over

so i scooch into the room and go to sit in the chair and before i’m even fully seated the girl cat is already jumping in my lap to curl up and start purring. the boy, clearly more skittish than his sister, gets up on the wall to sniff at me from a safer distance but eventually stretches out to get a paw on my shoulder to really get some sniffs in

i only sat there for maybe five minutes but my original plan was wobbling majorly

the staffer comes to get me eventually and we continue through the rest of the rooms. the fourth room had the gorgeous kitten and some other unrelated cats. and it was too nervous to really let me pet her. the others didn’t seem too interested in our presence either so no second cat from the room seemed like the one either

we moved on, headed downstairs to the new new kittens who weren’t ready for adoption and the seniors who i wish i could’ve considered more seriously (my pain from the summer was still a little too fresh and i knew catscan was only going to be around so much longer)

as we head upstairs to finish up some paperwork we talk through the next steps. they like my vibes but still need to call my references to do their do diligence. when we walk by, lucy and leon are back in their door window watching

i leave for the day, text my friend to warn her she’d be getting a call, and head to target to pick up some stuff. within an hour, barely into my target run, i get the call that i’m approved to adopt, and do i have any front runners for who i wanted to take home

there was no question about it: it had to be lucy and leon

rather unfortunately, the timing of it all meant i couldn’t actually pick them up until january 2nd (only four days later but a long four days of impatience) but then, just like that, i had two precious little kittens in my house just in time for their sixth month birthday on the 3rd, now named rey and legolas

~cut to april 2021~

i’m sitting at work one day and my buddy texts me that his sister came home that day, during a storm, to discover four kittens in a storm drain/gutter. she’d sat around for a bit to see if a mother came back but after an hour or so couldn’t bear to leave them out alone anymore so she brought them inside

i let him know, if she needed any help with placing them after she got them checked out i could probably help (we lived near each other and both my parents had separately talked about wanting a cat again. and i was moving out of my apartment into more space and figured i could probably handle a third if it came down to it)

two-ish months later, i’ve moved lego and rey into their new house and my buddy texts me again, am i still interested in another cat

there was one of the four yet to be claimed and i said absolutely give me the little guy

my buddy puts me in touch with his sister and we sort out a time for me to come by and, within a day or two, kieran joins the clowder

#some fun bonus facts: #alt name considered for rey: tauriel (i had a theme but it’s harder to abbreviate than legolas) #alt name for kieran (i didn’t know if i was getting a boy of one of the girls for a bit): aithusa (i was committed to it being kmcg related #so thank you sg writers for not knowing anything about anything) #also i def teared up typing this i just love my babies so so much #appropriatelyfeline #anon #appropriatelyasked #stupidlyanswered

[staticspaces]

The Eccentric Recluse

Here is the link to this week's brand new video!!

https://youtu.be/PTG8pAIt65Q

Let's start this one out by taking a look at some exterior photos taken during the overgrown summer months!!

Born in 1951 and of Polish descent, Jeff really enjoyed working with his hands, he enjoyed automotive repair, woodworking and metal work. This is evidenced most clearly in this home that we are exploring today.  You can see some of the work he has done both inside and outside of the home.  There are little details everywhere, from the woodwork, to the decorative angels, the metal work on the fireplace to the railings outside the home that have little metal flowers inside.  Built in the Tudor style with a very strong medieval vibe to it, I suspect that he may have built the entire home himself or at least added onto the home significantly over the years while he was living there. The details in this home did not stop at the visible and decorative, he also created some things for function as well.  Throughout the home, almost every light fixture was on a motion sensor.  There were also those cheap dollar store battery operated lights stuck to the walls in random places, some of which were still working during the explore!  He had built large speakers into the walls and the ceiling throughout the living room, I didn't even notice these during the initial video explore, but they were everywhere.  Many of the windows also had bars over them, much like the type you would see on city homes in a bad area.

The son of a mechanical engineer who worked for Air Canada, he was a draftsman by trade and it is no surprise to see the world that he created and surrounded himself with.  Jeff was never married and he apparently, according to neighbours, passed away in this very home in 2015.  He was only 64 years old.

The house was an absolute pleasure to explore but at the same time with the bars over the windows and the dim and dyeing dollar store lights turning on and off, it left me feeling a bit uneasy, almost like Jeff may return at any moment.  Or maybe that he was still somehow watching over the house.

In 2021 the house and property were sold at auction to cover the property taxes owed.  Since then, in late 2022, the new owners have cleared away a lot of the overgrowth, the cars are gone and it looks as though they have gutted the inside.  Only time will tell if this house is completely demolished or if the new owners decide to save it!

#abandoned #abandoned places #abandoned buildings #abandoned homes #abandoned houses #abandoned time capsules #time capsules #forgotten #forgotten buildings #forgotten places #urbex #urban exploration #urban exploring #bandos #bando

[nagisasstunningpersonality]

Lemme start by saying, I don’t know if someone has said this before. Or if it’s been confirmed by the author/creator of Assassination Classroom (I would love to be informed if it was, though. I need AC content). It’s just something I noticed and thought was cool, so I decided to share:

Korosensei’s tie has a crescent moon design. To be more specific, a waxing crescent moon design.

It’s interesting because the academic year of the Assassination Classroom is widely speculated to be 2014-2015. Since Aguri and Korosensei met a year before, it’s reasonable to say that they met on March 13, 2013.

The moon phase on March 13, 2013 was a waxing crescent moon.

Aguri gifted Korosensei a necktie with a waxing crescent moon embroidered into it on the anniversary of their meeting. She put so much thought into that gift, to the point of incorporating the moon phase from the day they met. And I think that’s beautiful.

I have sad feels now.

Thoughts?

It's a neat idea! The manga was first serialised in Jump July 2012 though, so the speculation is probably a bit off. To me, it's most likely the series is set relatively contemporaneously. So you can take the original moon explosion as 2012 or 2013. There's one very specific part of the manga that does help date it, though.

Prewarning, this turned into niche ramblings.

I do not currently have access to the Japanese version of this scene, but I disagree with the fan translation here. At their own admission, they interpreted him to be talking about a specific earthquake, where in reality he just says "the earthquake". I also went and checked this with the anime, and he does not give a specific event.

I mean, the Great Kanto Earthquake happened in 1923, which would make Karma some kind of time traveller if this was true. As someone who used to live in the same rough area Kunugigaoka is set, I promise you there are a lot of earthquakes. To the point you get used to them. Most certainly wouldn't be a 'state of emergency'. No. If you're saying The Earthquake, the most likely option is the 2011 Tohoku earthquake/tsunami, still by far Japan's most devastating natural disaster in recent times. Sort of like how we might say "the pandemic" and it's pretty obvious what we mean by it.

Two problems with this, though. One is that Karma in this panel looks relatively younger. The youngest Karma could realistically have been for this timescale is 12. We literally see him drawn at that age, and his appearance doesn't differ much in those panels (civil war) - though this could be put down to being before that specific arc. Second issue: the epicentre of the earthquake was quite far north of where Kunugigaoka is set, and Karma would have still been in junior high at this point. And we do see him physically observing... some kind of disaster relief. Considering the lack of destruction (and the fact that the earthquake destroyed a nuclear reactor and caused a massive exclusion zone in the general area), perhaps Karma is somewhere in Tokyo here observing the support measures.

The Japanese government were also specifically criticised for their response to the Fukushima nuclear disaster. It's too complicated to really go into here, but in a nutshell there were some Bad and Illogical Decisions (in Livi's opinion) taken. One highlight being very arbitrary choices on what houses were part of the exclusion zone, but I digress. Point is, this seems like what Karma's referring to by "the politicians were useless".

So anyway, my bet is that Aguri and Koro met in 2012, and the moon went bye bye in March 2013. I'm not going to check myself, but I'll believe you about the moon phase. I'll be honest, I doubt this is intentional, but it's a neat coincidence at least!

#assassination classroom #ass class #ansatsu kyoushitsu #ass class meta

[profoundbondfanfic]

Fourth list with our favorite aro/ace/demi fics 💜

Part 4

Ace=/=Aro by Unforth [Mature, <1K, Aro!Dean]

Ficlet written to the Tumblr Prompt: Aro Dean calls Cas "buddy" and "pal" and "devastatingly handsome friend" because he really believes that and the guy's really, really hot and always licks his lips because they're so chapped and dry. Dean obviously has to kiss him to get him to stop. Only problem is, Cas thought Dean was ace, not aro (thank you very much, small town gossip, for mixing everything up), and he is very confused by this.

Halflings by Unforth [Explicit, 103K, Demi!Cas]

Ever since his wife Lisa died, Dean Winchester has been willing to do anything for his son Ben. When Ben decided he wanted to adopt a halfling, Dean said yes without hesitation - provided they did so the right way, by giving whichever half-human they decided to bring home the respect and dignity it deserved. Half-octopi Castiel isn't exactly what they were looking for in a pet, but, then, they aren't exactly what Castiel was expecting for owners, either.

honeysuckle by sharkfish [Teen, 3,9K, Demi!Dean, Ace!Cas]

“Your omega’s here, ok? Everything’s ok.” Cas closes his eyes and leans a little into Dean’s solid warmth. His omega is here. He can smell them all over each other already. “You made me such a nice nest, too.” Dean’s voice is low, honeyed and soft. He smells sweeter, it hangs thick and heavy in the air. “Show me.”

Never Trust a Skinny Baker by mnwood [General, 11K, Aro!Dean]

Dean owns a bakery. Cas is a patron who can't hear, and Dean happens to know sign language. This fic has all the tropes you know and love so get reading, fuckos.

Smells Like Love by shiphitsthefan [Teen, 1,5K, Aro!Dean, Aro!Cas]

Five times Sam tried to tell Dean he was aromantic, and one time Dean told someone else.

Dear Virgo by K_K_TiBal [General, 9,9K, Ace!Cas]

Dean Winchester is a journalism major planning to coast his last year by mostly just sticking to writing the campus newspaper's daily horoscopes, and he almost succeeds. Enter Castiel Novak, captain of the soccer team, and his next interview appointment. It's obvious from the start that there's something between them, but things don't quite go as Dean first hopes, and he ends up learning a lot more about Castiel than he ever planned on - luckily for him.

Sparks by vipjuly [Explicit, 21K, Demi!Dean, Demi!Cas]

The creepy house on the corner has been abandoned for years, everyone says. It's ramshackle and decrepit, the yard overgrown, the wrought iron fence bent and broken in some places. The adults in the neighborhood have asked the city to do something about that eyesore for so long, but the city insists that someone is paying property taxes on the house, therefore they cannot do anything about it. So, everyone ignores it and pretends it doesn't exist. They definitely don't go anywhere near it, either. Dean, though. Dean is drawn to it as if by gravity. Little by little, Dean repairs what he can. The monster inside the house ain't so bad, either. Y'know. For a monster.

Decompression Therapy by TheAuthorGod [Explicit, 6K, Aro!Dean]

For AroDeanWeek 2015 Dean is a sex therapist. He's good at it; he helps people. He doesn't get attached to people romantically, so he's a better fit for the job than most. Complications don't arise until he starts to feel something totally new for his best friend Castiel Novak. I mean, it's not like he hasn't been around Cas his entire life or like he's not living with him and helping him raise his niece turned daughter. Dean just needs to deal.

#destiel #group rec #ace week #ace!dean #ace!castiel

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv! I just want to let you know that your blog is the only thing getting me through grad school. It's my one moment of solace before going to sleep. Do you know any fics where Draco is some kind of hedonist and introduces Harry to all the luxuries he's been missing so far? I need that in my life!

Oh anon, I’m sorry grad school has been rough! I know I don’t miss those days 😔 very happy to hear the blog offers you comfort and solace. And I love the hedonist!Draco take, I wanna find more fics like that tbh! Here are some great reads that came to mind:

Still Life, orphaned (2019, M, 3k)

Cake by astolat (2016, M, 4.3k)

Harry tried not to care when after the war, everyone he knew seemed to have made an agreement to stop paying attention to birthdays.

Steal/Keep by @shealwaysreads (2021, E, 4.6k)

The stealing was all Hermione’s idea, though Harry still doesn’t think anyone would believe him if he told them.

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (2020, E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters. A chance encounter with a mostly-naked Draco Malfoy exposes him to an entirely different world, one much more colourful than the lonely one he currently occupies—but at what cost?

Reparatio by astolat (2016, E, 17k) - maybe not a perfect fit but I couldn’t resist, this fic is brilliant

Draco snorted. “I’m not reduced to penury. I want something considerably beyond money, and I rather think you’re the only one can give it to me.”

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (2019, E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

A Summer in Bordeaux by @zigster-ao3 (2021, E, 28k)

Harry turns. Malfoy leans against the doorway to the back garden under the halo of a gaslamp dangling overhead. The warm glow of the flame casts him in a golden light, and he’s framed on either side by trailing grapevines cascading over the garden walls. So soft, Harry thinks, where the Malfoy in his mind once seemed so sharp.

Shine, Even in the Darkness by raitala (2014, E, 41k)

Harry hasn’t seen Draco for over fifteen years, but now he’s showing up everywhere and Harry is sort of weirdly attracted to him, but that can’t be right?

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo (2021, E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Against All Odds by momatu (2015, E, 54k)

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (2022, E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 83k)

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #hedonist Draco spoiling Harry #good food 🥘 #sending much love anon!

[mbrainspaz]

Christians going "Yeah I'm christian, go ahead and persecute me! I'm used to it!" is so sad and funny at the same time. Especially in America. You're not gonna get that from me hun. Like I'm gonna waste my energy talking to christians after I had to spend a decade deconstructing my own faith. Either you'll figure things out eventually or you'll double down until you're fully entrenched. As long as you leave non-christians alone that's your business.

I know if some burned out queer cowboy hobo had told 20 year old christian kid me what their adult life was really gonna be like...

"kiddo, I know you're a vaguely nationalist christian fundamentalist now but just wait until every aspect of your blessed social order fails you and you spend a little time homeless. Oh—you thought you couldn't be homeless if you just worked hard enough? Honeyyy. Your first 'christian' bosses won't even give you lunch breaks even though they live in mansions with their trophy wives. You got a degree so you could sell their scammy fake diet pills and live on instant potatoes with hot dog bites and sleep on the floor by the fireplace in your first drafty apartment like it was 1813. Also you have mental illnesses. Spoilers. No, you can't just power through ADHD. Yes it is a real thing. So is the family history of chronic depression your dad hasn't told you about yet. You think that's bad? Wait until he disowns you during the pandemic. Don't worry about the pandemic yet, but yeah, that's how you ended up homeless. Why didn't you just buy a house? With your christian husband? Ohhhh. Ooooof. Well let's gloss over the next few economic disasters but basically you're gonna nearly marry a guy next year until he loses his temper and destroys your trust. It's for the best though because he kinda turns into one of those right wing gun nuts a few years down the road. Dodged a bullet there! Literally lmao. Oh you... you want to know why you didn't become a missionary? So the church actually doesn't let 'single women' do mission work. Yeah... yeah it is to stop you from leading the single male missionaries astray. You kind of already knew where that was going. Don't worry, the misogyny only gets more blatant from here. Just wait until you're 25. Hey, remember how fun it was to sit with your parents in church? You get to do that for so many more years because there are no other unmarried 20-somethings in fundamentalist churches. If you leave and go to a different church your dad will disown you. He does that like 6 times though, so it does lose its sting. What were the other times? Um... okay so it was 'going to a church he didn't like,' 'being too single,' 'not praying enough' (don't ask me to explain that one, I'm still confused), 'having too many pets that might scare away the men,' and 'not voting for trump.' Oh! By the way, if you get a chance to go to a state fair and throw tomatoes at that guy in say... mid 2015, don't pass that up. You'll regret it. Especially while you're stuck living on a ranch with looney white nationalists in the aftermath of the 2020 elections. Oh shit—right! You don't even know white nationalists really exist! Wow. You've really never had to overhear a single conversation where white boomers fantasize about going downtown to do armed 'patrols' of black neighborhoods. By that point you'd realized you were very alone in a southern town that had already tried to off you in a multitude of disturbing ways. They weren't keen on the idea of you being queer either. I know you already know but you—yeah, you just assumed it would be easier to hide and go along with the status quo. Naaah. Nope. Not worth it. You only really wanted to do that so your parents would love you and that was a loss from the moment they put conditions on it. You could never have done enough to earn their love. They don't have it to give. That's on them though. Ok big question time: Do you still believe in god? Yes and no. Give it like... 14 times of people saying 'it's god's will' whenever something goes their way and another 20 of them accusing you of consorting with demons whenever you disagree. The pattern becomes pretty clear. Maybe you do still believe in god but definitely not your parents' god. And definitely not any god that would be on the side of empires and bigots. In fact, not any god that would let those powers claim him... if he had any power to stop them."

"But I do at least get a bunch of animals?"

"Oh yeah. Smeags is still alive. Right now I've got three dogs and a freaking horse that looks exactly like our favorite childhood stuffed animal."

"A HORSE!?"

#deconstruction #ex evangelical #conversation with my past self #10 years later #ramble #personal problems #be careful where you put your faith #imaginary conversations