#The Wide Florida Bay

[sabraeal]

Just a Second Away from Being In Love (Or Alone)

[Read on AO3]

Written for @another-miracle, who asked for any Obi POV in Wide Florida Bay-- but hopefully an obiyuki one 🤣. It actually took me a while to circle in on which one to pick; there's a few that I had my eye on earlier in the timeline, but when it came to obiyuki bits...I knew it had to be this one, which starts off a small mini-arc in the established relationship part of this fic!

It takes him two hours and two pounds of eggplant, but after five minutes of this newest crisis of morale, Obi finally gives in: he going have to use his Phone A Friend for this one. Or at least someone friendly. Ish.

“Tell me this is gonna be worth it,” he huffs, contorted into nature’s worst pretzel shape; his newest attempt to locate anything that could pass for another pie plate in this place. No way Doc’s lived here for three years without putting at least five of the most grandma-worthy vessels for piping-hot fruit somewhere in the cabinets. “Tell me this is gonna be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth my whole life. A fucking paradigm shift when it comes to food.”

“It’s eggplant parmesan. You’re gonna wish it was chicken.” Kelly Ann clucks her tongue, and god, she can be a thousand miles away, but he knows she’s got a knee balanced up on her desk, head tipped back because her eyes can’t roll far enough. “But you just spend half an afternoon drying the most finicky vegetable known to man, so you can’t turn back now. You’re committed.”

That’s the sort of talk that would have given him a life-threatening case of the hives years ago, limping around Atlanta’s unforgiving streets looking for an Urgent Care more quickly than taking a jab to the gut. But now he just asks, “But she’ll like it though, right?”

Kelly Ann sighs, already sick of him. “Yes. The poor innocent you’ve tricked into thinking you’re boyfriend material will think it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten. Even Cal’s officer buddies eat it, and they’re more picky than the four-year-old.”

“I dunno,” he hums, hand-pulverized breadcrumb scattering over sea foam ceramic. “She cooks really good. Have I told you about the Cornish hens? They—”

“I have heard all about the Cornish hens. I am sick of hearing about the Cornish hens.” Obi’s mouth twitches. Gotta be hard for her, having to share the pedestal for Gayle’s Favorite Child. At least with someone who isn’t her own kid. “What kind of guarantees are you look for here? That it’s going to get you laid? It will definitely get you laid.”

“Kelly Ann.” If his hands weren’t covered in egg, he’d be pressing one to his chest, scandalized. “I wasn’t— I’m not doing this for sex.”

She snorts. Which, frankly, he’s earned. But he’s turned over a new leaf. Become a new, better man. One who knows that the most important part of a relationship isn’t what happens between the sheets.

But it certainly helps hedge your bets, especially when you’re as much of a fuck up as he is. Hell, if sex was an option, he wouldn’t be here, debating which hand he’d used for the wet ingredients and which was for the dry. Oh no, he would have been far too busy making her see shrimp colors to worry about whether eggplants stayed crispier fried or baked. But since he’d had fallen for her absolutely genius— though, as Yuzuri warned, biologically inadvisable— beach-dinner-sex seduction strategy, Doc’s on the bench for the next quarter, sexy-time wise, and he’s—

Well, he’s got to show her he’s got talents out of the bedroom too. Or, er, off the couch. And shower. Sometimes even—

Ah, well, non-flat surface based talents. Cooking’s supposed to be one of them.

At least, it would be, if his eggplant slices weren’t eating floor. “How are you supposed to even get these slippery bastards over to the tray? They just keep— fuck.”

“Just go slow,” Kelly Ann informs him with an aggravating amount of patience. “It’s not a race.”

“I am going slow,” he snaps, gingerly transferring his next slice to the rack. “There is no possible way I could be going slower. I’m going to be here for days just doing this. Years from now, archaeologists will find my body and wonder why I’m only halfway through—”

“If there was an Olympic event for complaining, you’d take gold five years running.” She can tease him as much as she like, but there’s no bite to it anymore, no sharp teeth waiting to take a nibble. No, he’s pretty sure that the stretch on her vowels means she’s smirking; the closest thing to a smile when she’s aimed in his direction. “Maybe you should be doing this for sex, it sounds like you might need—”

“You keep this up and I’ll ask Gayle when you’re thinking you’ll have round two.” His mouth is all teeth as he adds, “After all, Laila would make such a cute big sister.”

He can’t see her, but he can hear her seething on the other end of the line. “I know where you live.”

“It’s a fourteen hour drive at best and I’ve got Mom on speed dial.”

Her scowl radiates from the speaker. “Fine,” she grits out. “Guess I’ll just have to tell her we’re waiting until number two could have a playmate.”

Obi blinks down at her picture. “Huh, Toddy’s found some girl? That’s fast. He was single at—”

“I’m not talking about Toddy.”

There’s enough silence in the kitchen to make his ears ring. “…What?”

“Oh, come on, Obi,” Kelly Ann sighs, as if he’s the one being obtuse. “The only people you two were fooling at Christmas were yourselves. And now you’re spending a whole day pampering eggplant to impress her?”

“I had a day off,” he murmurs, knees suddenly as solid as his egg dredge. “And I don’t think battering and frying count as a spa day.”

Kelly Ann grunt, unconvinced. “Sure, sure, we can sit here and have you deflect all day. But when it comes down to it…you’re serious about her aren’t you?”

As a heart attack. Which would be fine, if they weren’t barely two months in to the longest relationship of his life. “I think it’s a little soon to say that, uh…”

“That you love her?” His heart beats so loud in his ears he can hardly hear her ask, “You do, don’t you? Love her?”

“Yeah.” It’s a miracle he can even speak with his mouth this dry. “Of course I do.”

“Have you said that? With your Big Boy words?”

He has to press his hands against the counter to keep them from shaking. A strategy that would go better if both of them weren’t covered in egg gunk.

“Ah, gotta go,” he gasps, already reaching for a towel. “Making a real mess of all this.”

“Obi—”

The first finger clean shoots out, cutting off the call.

“There,” he sighs. “That’s enough of that existential crisis.”

*

The eggplant’s fresh out of the oven and sauce just off the heat when the door opens with a shush, his own personal problem stumbling out into the living room, trying to toe her sandals into the tray. If he weren’t elbow deep with this casserole dish, he’d saunter out to appreciate her attempts; there’s a lot on TV nowadays, but none of it can compete with Doc nearly giving herself a concussion trying to unlatch one of those little buckles. TLC used to say you learned something new every day, and listening to her grumble approach swears without ever intersecting, Obi agrees.

“Oh, really.” Most people might be happy just to hurl abuse at inanimate objects, but not Doc. Oh no, she’s got to reason with them.  “This sort of…of…tomfoolery is very…rude. I think you should just…stop…if you would…”

He waits until the first tell-tale clatter and clunk, to call out, “Welcome home.”

“Obi!” she yelps, and oh, he might not be able to see it, but he knows that shocked look: mouth as round as her eyes, skin flushed down to where it meets the swoop of her collar. Extremely kissable, is what he’s saying. “You’re here?”

A tap of the sauce spool sends a chunk of it skittering across the stove, but he grins anyway. “Am I not supposed to be? Did you have plans? Maybe even naughty—?”

“No!” It’s more of a croak than a gasp. “No, I mean…you’re supposed to be here. I’m happy your here. You” —her voice drops, soft, like her pillows— “belong here.”

He thought he’d known all the ways a heart could ache these past few years, but when she talks like that, ah, he’d never thought it could feel this good. Or this terrifying. “You’re not denying the naughty plans thing.”

And she still doesn’t, going so quiet a guy might get suspicious, if he didn’t know— keenly— that she was still in the shop. Taking her nice places and making delicious, boyfriend-worthy dinners has been great; a bigger rush than sex in a bathroom stall. But still, when most of their nights involve staying in, settling into the couch the way they always did, just with the new, heady knowledge that they both are wanting the same things…

Well, there’s been a few inadvisable make out sessions. Exciting ones, the kind that involve hands going under shirts and down pants and wearing hoodies in eighty degree weather the next day. But every time they wandered beneath her shorts— or, more than a few personally exhilarating times, skirts— the mood swerved off the rails, ending things before they— or well, she could get anywhere. After a three-year dry spell, Obi thought a few weeks would be a breeze, a quick breather between rounds, but after a month of having her moan his name at just the simplest touch—

It’s a special kind of torture, he thinks as the other shoe drops. Especially when Doc’s never been one to behave.

“You are home early.” Doc doesn’t often get the jump on him— in shitty childhood vs playful girlfriend, there’s a clear winner every time— but this time, when her sweet voice pipes up from his elbow rather than the galley window, he does. “And cooking dinner?”

“Yeah, I, ah…” She’s always been a curious little squirrel, skittering hither and yon, but when she leans around him to catch a peek of his hard work, her breasts brush against his arm, and, well— like he said. It’s been a long time. “Haah…just needed to let some data compile for a diagram. Thought it might do better on my laptop on our internet.”

He should be playing Tetris with these eggplant pieces right now, but Doc doesn’t make it easy, not with the way she tucks herself against him, her front pressed to his side, a burning line from shoulder to hip. “Are those eggplant?”

One small hand traces a path across his belly, just below his navel, and— and Obi can read a room. Really he can. It’s just not possible that she’s putting down what he’s picking up. “Y-yeah.” He clears his throat, willing it back into an actual, grown adult’s register. “I, uh, got the recipe from Kelly Ann. She…”

Her wrist twists, just enough to dip the tip of her finger beneath his waistband, and oh god, okay, he can’t take it. “Can we talk?” he asks, desperate, one hand gripped around her wrist. “Just for a second here. Because I…I need some clarification, I think.”

Doc flusters, every visible inch of her skin red as she tries to slip from his grasp. Which is absolutely not happening, not if she’s barking up the tree he thinks she is. “S-sorry! I just…I thought…”

One tug sends her careening back into him, every inch of her pressed against every inch of him. Or well, most of them. He's got ten or so that don't quite match up “I’m not complaining about the thinking here. I’m confused about the doing, because I thought we weren’t supposed to, er…”

Do the doing isn’t really where he wants to take this sentence. “I thought,” he starts again, a shade more collected, “that you were in the shop.”

“No.” Her cheeks flush so pink he’s half tempted to bite them, just to see what she’d taste like against his tongue. “I-I mean, I was. But I went to my doctor today, and um…?”

Every muscle in his body stiffens, tense like a cat ready to pounce. “And…?”

Doc might be bold enough to throw herself out windows and into swamps full of at least three of his most deadly fears, but at the twitch of his dick against her hip, her eyes skitter back toward the counter. “A-are you at a good place to stop?”

The eggplant’s going to get floppy in the sauce, and none of it will be as good as it would be if he finished getting this in the oven now, but he can hardly care, not when she lets out a delicious little gasp as she bumps into the counter.

“What exactly did the doc clear you for?” he rumbles, leaning in to give her parted lips the barest brush. “This?”

Her fingers clench at his shoulders, as frustrated as the moan that slips from her throat. “Obi…”

There’s a warning in that, a promise for what will wait for him if he keeps up his teasing, and it only makes his next taste all the sweeter.

“This?” It’s a whisper against her lips, one lost when she swallows it whole. Those fingers yank him down, trapping him in this endless drag of lips and tongue, each one teasing out another moan, another shiver, until he’s nearly drunk from it.

One of his palms scrapes up her side; the silky material of her dress catches on his calluses before he dips beneath it, her nipple already pebbled against his palm. “This?”

His mouth drops to catch it, and oh, if he thought she’d been close before, there’s nothing but cloth between them now, her body arched to fill the curve of his. “Obi!”

She’s trembling in his grip, only the arm at her back keeping her upright, and oh, it’s nothing to trace his fingers up her thigh, to trace the edge of her panties. “This?”

His only answer is a whimper and the bite of nails at his shoulder. It’s enough; he shoves them to the side, the small hairs there tickling his palms. And when the tip of his finger slips between her folds—

“Jesus. Fuck.” His forehead rests against her shoulder. “You’re…?”

Wet. Soaked. His mouth is too dry to get out the words. He doesn’t need to, not when she nods, wiggling against his hand. “Uh-huh.”

“Hah.” He licks his lips, hoping she can’t feel how he trembles now, every part of him drawn as tight as a bowstring. “How about this?”

His fingers dip inside, two sinking straight to the last knuckle. God, he nearly cums right there, from the noise she makes. “Is this what the doc cleared you for, Shirayuki?”

She whines, a pathetic, frustrated sound. One he’d be happy to tease out of her again, if she didn’t reach down and pump his fingers into her again, like he might need the help.

“Haah,” he breathes, hard. “Yeah, I think I can help with that.”

By the way she’s moving, it won’t be enough. Not nearly enough for either of them, not with his cock straining his jeans, soaking them where it’s trapped up against the band. He grinds against her hip, trying to get some relief, pulling her even tighter against him as his fingers work, and—

“Obi,” she gasps, pushing his shoulders away. “We eat on these counters.”

He’d argue that, if they weren’t already sharing space with dinner. Instead he leans in, giving her one, long kiss as he drags his fingers out of her. “Your room or mine?”

“Whichever,” she sighs, hopping up into his arms, “is closer.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #The Wide Florida Bay #lime #my fic #modern AU #college AU #ans #set just after Something Real (the beach date) #I had a whole very smutty part planned for the very end here but instead there is just a teaser for it #because this first scene got LONG and then I wanted Shirayuki to dither a bit #wrap around his legs like a cat in heat while he wondered whether he was getting a green light or was just colorblind #so just a little taste! #next time i have an opportunity to get to this mini arc there will definitely be smut #the plot bearing kind #🤣

[pucksandpower]

Sea Cows and Koalas

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: Oscar just wants to impress his girlfriend, but those stupid sea cows keep stealing your attention

The South Florida sun beats down mercilessly as Logan’s sleek speedboat cuts through the turquoise waters of Biscayne Bay. Oscar leans back, soaking in the warmth and salty sea breeze while fiddling with the wakeboard bindings. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches you gazing wistfully over the side of the boat, peering into the depths.

“Looking for something, babe?” Oscar asks with an amused grin.

You turn towards him, eyes lit up with anticipation. “Manatees! I read they’re really common around here.”

Logan chuckles from the driver’s seat. “Good luck spotting one. Those sea potatoes are sneaky.”

“Sea potatoes?” Oscar snorts. “Is that an American thing?”

“What can I say? They’re fuzzy and they float.” Logan winks at you. “Like your man’s ego after a few drinks.”

“Hey!” Oscar reaches over to playfully shove Logan’s shoulder. “I’ll show you who’s all fluff out there.”

With a devilish smirk, he secures the final binding and stands tall, wakeboard in hand. Logan revs the engine, kicking up a spray of saltwater that has you giggling. Oscar shoots you a roguish wink before plunging into the azure waves.

Moments later, the corded rope connecting Oscar to the boat grows taut. He rockets out of the water, carving through the air with effortless grace. A wide grin spreads across his face as the wind whips through his hair.

“Woohoo!” Oscar hollers, riding the wakes with the confidence of a seasoned pro. He slices through the swell, spraying diamond showers that glisten in the sunlight.

You watch in awe, your face bright with adoration. But then something in the water catches your eye — a gray shape moving just below the surface. You gasp, scrambling to the edge of the boat and nearly tumbling overboard in your excitement.

“Manatee! I see one!”

Oscar’s brow furrows in confusion at your sudden outburst. His distraction costs him, and with a yelp he loses his edge, slamming into the unforgiving surface in an unceremonious belly flop.

Logan cackles, easing back on the throttle as Oscar bobs up, sputtering saltwater and treading water in a daze. “Smooth moves, Pretty Boy!”

Your face falls as the manatee disappears into the depths once more. “Oh no, I missed it!”

Oscar doggie paddles over to the boat, his ego more bruised than his body. “You just had to get distracted, didn’t you?” He grumbles, reaching up with pleading eyes. “A little help here?”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a giggle as you grab his outstretched hand and haul him aboard with a grunt. Oscar flops down beside you, leaving a puddle on the immaculate deck. Water streams from his hair and board shorts as he shoots you a petulant glare.

“Really? Sea cows over me?”

You can’t help but laugh at his childish pout. “Oh, don’t be such a baby! You were amazing out there.”

“Was I?” An impish grin plays across Oscar’s lips as he inches closer, leaving a trail of water in his wake. “Prove it.”

With a mischievous glint in his eye, he snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you into a sopping wet embrace. You squeal in surprise as the cold lake water seeps into your clothes.

“Oscar! You’re getting me all wet!”

“That’s the idea,” he murmurs, drinking in your flushed features.

Logan shakes his head in amusement. “Get a room, you two.”

Oscar is only too happy to oblige, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steams up the air around you. His fingers tangle in your damp hair as the passionate embrace deepens, banishing all thought of manatees or wakeboarding from your mind.

At least until a crashing wave erupts nearby, dousing you both in a shock of frigid saltwater. You yelp, breaking the kiss with a sputter while Oscar sits back with a sheepish grin.

Logan cackles from the helm. “Easy, lovebirds! There’s no lifeguard on duty.”

You shoot the American a playful glare, then turn back to your breathless boyfriend. Tenderly, you brush a stray lock of dripping hair from his brow, cradling his chiseled jaw in your palm.

“You know, as fun as watching you show off is ...” You lean in until your lips brush tantalizingly against the sensitive skin just below his ear. “I prefer my Oscar humble and pliant.”

A visible shiver races down Oscar’s spine as your breath ghosts over him. He swallows hard, brown eyes darkening with unspoken desire. “Your wish is my command.”

You can’t help but smirk at how easily he surrenders to your whims. With a soft giggle, you trail a line of feather-light kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, relishing the way his breath catches in his throat.

Logan lets out an obnoxious whistle. “Alright, alright! Keep it PG over there!”

Reluctantly, you pull away, leaving Oscar dazed and slightly flushed. He watches you with a wistful smile as you return your gaze to the gently lapping waves, ever vigilant for signs of the elusive sea cows.

The hot sun soon dries the lingering drops clinging to Oscar’s reddening skin. He leans back with a contented sigh, idly toying with the wakeboarding rope while studying your rapt profile. The salty ocean breeze tousles your hair in an enchanting dance that has his chest swelling with unabashed adoration.

How did he ever get so lucky?

Oscar isn’t sure how long he sits there mesmerized before Logan’s laughter shatters the peaceful reverie.

“Hate to break it to you, man, but I think your girl likes manatees more than you!” Logan teases, slapping the throttle with a cheeky grin.

Oscar blinks, bemused, until he follows Logan’s gaze to you — still transfixed on the glassy waters below. A fond smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Of course you would fall under the spell of such gentle, unassuming creatures. His beautiful weirdo.

With a dramatic huff, Oscar flops down beside you, draping his head in your lap and batting his lashes up at you imploringly.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He asks in an exaggerated sulk. “When did sea potatoes become more interesting than me?”

You giggle at his playful antics, giving his chiseled jaw an affectionate scratch. “Don’t worry, buttercup. There’s enough of me to go around.”

Oscar arches a skeptical brow. “Is that so?”

Without warning, he rolls over and nuzzles his face into your stomach, peppering your cotton shirt with sloppy, pouty kisses. You can’t stifle your laughter as his ticklish stubble assaults your sensitive skin.

“Oscar! St-stop it!” You squirm and swat at him halfheartedly, breathless with mirth. “We have company!”

Logan shoots you a roguish wink from behind the steering wheel. “Don’t mind me, love birds. Just pretend I’m not here.”

Oscar grins wickedly, ignoring Logan as he continues his relentless assault, until finally you cry for mercy between gasping peals of laughter.

“Okay, okay! You win!” Tenderly, you cup Oscar’s face in your hands and guide him up until your noses are brushing. “You’ve got my full, undivided attention. Happy now, Mr. Needy?”

“Getting there,” Oscar murmurs, drinking in your flushed, breathless features with unfiltered longing. He leans in until your foreheads are touching, savoring your intoxicating closeness. “All I need is one more thing ...”

You regard him with an arched brow, unable to resist playing along. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Rather than answering directly, Oscar closes the scant distance between you, claiming your lips in a searing, all-consuming kiss. You melt against him with a contented sigh, cradling the back of his neck as you lose yourself in the embrace.

Logan whistles again from the helm. “Not gonna lie, I’m a little jealous over here!”

Reluctantly, you break away with a breathless giggle, nuzzling your flushed cheek against Oscar’s. “Okay, okay. I think you’ve successfully reminded me who has my heart.”

A smug grin tugs at Oscar’s lips. “And don’t you forget it.”

He punctuates the smug remark with another lingering peck. But just as he’s withdrawing, you catch a fleeting glimpse of movement beneath the waves — a sleek gray shape growing closer and closer.

You gasp in delight, headbutting Oscar as you scramble upright. “There! Did you see that!”

Oscar blinks owlishly, rubbing the spot on his forehead where you clocked him. “I … what?”

“A manatee!” You exclaim, bouncing excitedly on the cushioned deck. “It was right there! Oh, they’re even more adorable than I imagined!”

You shoot Oscar your most imploring puppy dog eyes, bottom lip protruding in an irresistible pout. “Can we … get one?”

Oscar’s brows climb toward his hairline. “Get one? As in … you want to adopt a manatee?”

You nod fervently. “Why not? They’re the sweetest things!”

A chuckle rumbles up from Oscar’s chest as he regards you with a blend of adoration and bewilderment. Leave it to you to fall head-over-heels for a three-ton marine mammal.

“And just where do you propose we keep this … pet manatee?” He asks, struggling to keep a straight face.

You open your mouth, then falter, momentarily stumped. A crease forms between your brows as you ponder the dilemma. After a beat, your eyes light up with your stroke of genius.

“The bathtub!”

Oscar barks out a laugh, loud and uninhibited. “The bathtub? Seriously?”

You level him with a deadpan stare, completely serious. “What? We have a big tub.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Oscar pulls you into a fond embrace, lips brushing your forehead in a gentle kiss. “You’re certifiable, you know that?”

A contented hum rumbles in your throat as you snuggle deeper into the circle of his arms. “Maybe. But you love me for it.”

“That I do,” Oscar murmurs, resting his cheek on top of your head as the sun begins its descent over Miami’s shimmering coastline. “That I do.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri x y/n #mclaren #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri drabble

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sunday Naps

Summary: It's Sunday, which means it's time for your favorite weekend activity- an afternoon nap with Frankie. But when Frankie finds himself awake before you with an interesting problem, he knows just the way to wake you up, too.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Word Count: 2.6K (The self restraint on this was UNREAL)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do this irl), VERY CONSENSUAL Somnophilia, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, this is porn with no plot, reader has no physical descriptions (but pls let me know if I missed any!!)Frankie being a menace but also literally the sweetest man alive, Frankie's a Tampa Bay Buc's fan (idk, if he lives in Florida, this makes the most sense to me, I will not elaborate), napping during football bc me too, girl

A/N: This is my first time writing somno so pls be nice, I am NERVY😭 I hope y'all enjoy, Frankie Morales is forever making me swoon, and I just know in my heart that this man absolutely loves to nap and is the world's biggest snuggler 🥺💕 not beta'd bc that's just how I roll

Before you had met Frankie, Sunday was arguably the worst of the weekend days- looming stress of the work week ahead, mettled with to-do’s and other chores before Monday got the best of you. There were very few times that you had found yourself anxiously awaiting a Sunday, but since Frankie? Sundays had easily become one of your favorite days of the week.  

Slow and easy going mornings where Frankie brought you coffee as the sun rose before tangling your bodies between the sheets in a mess of soft and unrushed sex, followed by cuddling and leisurely making your way out of bed for breakfast, awaiting a relaxing day ahead of you. 

Now that it was fall, it also meant football season, and while you didn’t really care either way about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, you enjoyed any time that you got to spend cuddled up next to Frankie on the couch, considering more often than not, it normally resulted in the two of you fucking during half-time, followed by you promptly napping wrapped in Frankie’s arms for the better part of the 2nd half.  

This Sunday was no different, you and Frankie had found yourself happily snuggled on your couch under your favorite fluffy blanket, Buccaneers game on in the background, Frankie’s arm draped around you as you leaned against his chest, soaking in the familiar warmth and scent of him radiating from the worn cotton of his t-shirt as you felt your eyelids slowly begin to droop heavier and heavier. With the way Frankie had been mindlessly rubbing soft, gentle circles against your back, his thumb dancing in swirling patterns across your skin, it wasn’t long before the comfort of being held in Frankie’s arms had completely washed over you, and you had found yourself fast asleep well before the start of the second quarter. 

What you hadn’t realized, was that Frankie had fallen asleep not long after you, the weight of your body pressed against his, along with the long week he’d had from work and the symphony of melodic snores now roaring from your parted lips and knocked him out almost equally as fast, leaving the two of you in a blissfully happy pile of nap on another lazy Sunday afternoon. 

That was, until, Frankie found himself wide awake well before you with a very curious problem. 

He was hard as a fucking rock. 

Some way or another in your sleepy, napping state, the both of you had rolled over on your sides, Frankie now spooning you with his arm draped over your middle and your ass pressed firmly against his crotch, quickly solving the mystery to the hardon straining at the fabric of his sweatpants. 

But if just your ass nestled against your dick wasn’t enough, Frankie looked over to see that you were definitely also dreaming, and the type of dream you were having wasn’t hard to decipher based on the way you were quietly moaning in your sleep and subtly grinding your hips into Frankie’s lap. 

“Mmmmmmm… Frankie…..” You quietly whimpered, your voice groggy with sleep as you stirred in Frankie’s arms, now finding himself almost unbearably hard at the sight that he’d awoken to, especially now knowing that the dream you were having was definitely about him. Frankie let out a deep, shaky exhale, now more awake than ever as you continued to gently squirmed your bottom half against him, biting down at his bottom lip as you moaned again. 

“Frankie… Oh fuck…..”  

“Fuck…” Frankie whispered, now raging an internal war in his head as he debated what to do next, knowing you were clearly turned on by whatever was happening in your slumber, his cock aching with each second that passed with you spooned against him. 

Should he just try to get up and jerk off before you woke up? Wake you up and then ask if you wanted to fuck? Or maybe… Maybe, he’d wake you up a different way. 

Although he hadn’t done it often, you had made it abundantly clear to Frankie that it had been more than okay to wake you up to sex, and every time he had, you’d absolutely loved it. Frankie had been hesitant at first, never wanting to do anything without your consent, or do anything that would ever make you feel even remotely uncomfortable, but after you had insisted and he had worked up the courage, he knew he had the green light from that point on- And given the state that you were in right now, Frankie was about to make good on your outstanding offer. 

Carefully shifting his body out from behind you, Frankie let you gently fall so your back was resting against the couch, caging his broad body over yours as he worked his way down to the waistband of your pants, gently sliding them off your hips before tugging at your underwear and leaving your bottom half bare for him. 

Frankie sat back on his knees, in shock and awe of the glistening, wet mess your pussy had already become in your sleep just dreaming of him, arousal coating your folds and inside of your thighs as you lazily shifted in your sleep, your legs seeming to instinctually fall open, just for him. 

“Fuck me, baby girl…” He whispered to himself under his breath, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he audibly gulped, his eyes going wide as he locked on to your cunt, already dripping and aching for him. Settling down to lay on his stomach, he carefully lifted up your legs to rest over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your waist, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips while he settled himself face to face with your heat. 

With one long, flat press of his tongue, Frankie dragged himself across your clit, savoring the sweet tang of the juices that had been dripping from your hole, lapping them up with one more lengthy lick, before pulling his mouth away just enough to see how you’d react to the new presence between your legs. 

As if Frankie wasn’t already turned on enough, your reaction was clearly aiding his cause. 

After just one lick of his tongue through your folds, you were already incredibly responsive, your hips instinctively jerking towards his face as a breathy whine escaped from your lips, as if you were already begging for more without having to say a word. A slight smirk began to spread across Frankie’s face as he dove back in again, this time, working himself along your cunt in easy, languid strokes, feeling your body begin to twitch even more with the way he was working his mouth. 

“Mmmmmmm…. Yeah…..” You muttered, still sleeping as you kept bucking your bottom half against his face, only encouraging Frankie to give you more with his tongue, beginning to change his pattern to swirl deliberate, steady circles around your clit, putting more and more pressure into each movement. 

“Frankie….” 

“That’s it, sweet girl…” Frankie hummed, his words rumbling in his chest as his hot breath danced against your core, continuing to coax you out of your slumber, working through your folds and at your sensitive bud with intensifying pace. 

It wasn’t long until Frankie’s careful and meticulous work slowly began to turn more sloppy and desperate, feeling the wet mess you were becoming under his tongue driving him insane, wanting, no needing, to make you cum, to wake you up with pleasure flowing through your veins, turning your sleepy mumbles into cries of his name over and over again. 

Letting one arm untangle around your leg, he brought the hand to your pussy, gently slipping one finger into your aching core, sucking him in with your warm, wet walls, only giving it a few pumps before realizing you could easily take a second, slipping it in to meet the first and curling the pair to brush against the soft and spongy spot inside you he knew drove you absolutely mad. Almost instantly, he could feel your cunt beginning to clench in response, your tell tale sign that you were getting closer and closer to reaching your high and completely coming undone around him. 

“C’mon, querida, I’ve got you, baby.”

Suddenly, your eyes shot open, your heart racing as you felt a familiar feeling building in your belly, the coil inside you already wound so tightly as you let out a ragged moan, lifting your head up to see Frankie nestled between your legs, drinking you up like a man starved. 

“Oh fuck, Frankie, fuck- baby, fuck, don’t stop” You whimpered, shooting your hand down to burry it in the messy, dark curls of his hair, tugging at his locks for any sort of relief as you had awoken to the savory sensation shooting down your spine and through your core from Frankie’s lips latched around your clit and fingers pulsing in and out of your cunt. 

Frankie had barely any time to register that you were now awake, but as you grasped firmer at his hair and let out a ragged moan as you came, clenching around his fingers and gushing with your arousal, it had become very clear to Frankie that he had done his job, and done it well. 

“There’s my good girl. Damelo (Give it to me), Hermosa, fucking soak my face.” Frankie smirked, pulling away to reveal the shiny slick covering his beard, still gently rocking his fingers in the warm, wet walls of your heat as you came down from your high, you chest heaving in low, shallow breaths, mouth hanging open as you let a moan of pure ecstasy fall from your lips. 

“Frankie… Holy Fuck…” 

“Good morning.” Frankie mewled, pulling his fingers out of your pussy, making you hiss at the loss as he laid himself on top of you, swallowing your whimpers in an electric kiss, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips as his tongue swiped across your mouth, silently begging for more. “Must have been some good dreams you were having, querida. You were so fucking wet for me, baby. I couldn’t help myself.” 

“Frankie, please, I need you. Fuck- Fuck, I need you to fuck me, Frankie, please. Need you inside me.” 

“Needy girl. I’ve got you, Hermosa. Don’t worry. Woke up so fucking hard for you, baby. Didn’t stand a fucking chance with that pretty ass all pressed up against me. Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Frankie sighed, reaching down to shuffle his sweatpants and boxers down off his hips, revealing his painfully hard cock, his tip red and weeping with precum, aching to be buried inside you from the moment he had woken up. 

Wrapping his hand around his length, he stroked himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, the two of you letting out a heavy sigh of relief as Frankie pushed inside you, slowly filling you up inch by inch until his tip was kissing your cervix, taking a few moments to let you adjust to the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness. 

His forehead dropped to rest against yours, the shimmering sheen of his sweat making his dark curls stick to him and brush against your skin, his broad palm cupping your cheek as he let your lips lock onto yours again for another tender kiss as he slowly began to thrust in and out of you, taking his sweet time with each stroke. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, queirda.” Frankie grunted, gritting his teeth as his hips rutted into you, the weight of his body draped overtop of you sending your mind reeling, loving every second of being engulfed in his broadness. “What were you dreaming about, baby, hmm? What were you dreaming about that had you all worked up?” 

Suddenly, Frankie’s arm was wrapping under your legs, pressing your knees to your chest to stretch you open even further, the new position making you breathless as he began to pound into you with more intensity, the room now filling with a mix of your moans and skin slapping against each other. 

“I was dreaming- oh fuck- Fuck, I was dreaming about you, Frankie. Shit- dreaming about you fucking me like this, how good you make me feel.” You whined, Frankie’s grip in the soft flesh of your thighs growing tighter as you locked eyes with him, the dark, chocolate brown pooling with lust watching the wrecked mess you were quickly becoming as your cunt began to clench tighter, and the all too familiar tingle in your spine once again began to creep through your body. 

Your response elicited a low hum in Frankie’s chest, rutting his hips into you with more intensity as he felt your pussy starting to flutter around his cock, freeing one of his hands to snake between your legs, the pads of his fingers putting just the right amount of pressure on your clit to have you screaming out his name as you felt yourself creep closer and closer to your second orgasm. 

“Fuck me. That’s all I want baby, just wanna make you feel good. You gonna be a good girl and give me one more, Hermosa? Cum all over my cock before I fill you up?” 

Frankie could feel his own high slowly approaching now too, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and frantic as he pounded against your g-spot and circled your clit, determined to make sure you came again before he did. 

“Mmmmmhhhmmmm.” You whimpered, your brain barely even able to form a coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence, given how your eyes were practically rolling in the back of your head as Frankie’s punishing pace split you open in the best way possible, your legs beginning to tremble while you could feel the knot tightening in your core quickly building up to the point of snapping. “Oh fuck, fuck, Frankie, fuckfuckfuckfuck I’m so close, fuck, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” 

Before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm crashed through you, euphoria flowing through your veins as you came, every inch of you filling with pleasure as your cunt clamped around Frankie’s length, soaking him in your arousal. Watching you cum was all Frankie needed to follow suit, gritting his teeth as a ragged groan rumbled deep in his chest, pumping a few more times into your heat before burying himself in your warm, wet walls, and milking himself of every last drop as he came, the mix of his spend and your slick leaking and coating the inside of your thighs

Letting his body collapse into yours, he draped himself on top of you, your chests rising and falling in sync with heavy, heaving breaths, the both of you trying your best to regain your composure before Frankie gently pulled himself out, making you hiss at the loss of his fullness as he flopped over next to you, planting a soft kiss on your lips as lay his arm across your stomach, pulling you into him. 

“Jesus Christ, Frankie… That’s one way to wake up from a nap.” You giggled softly, raising your eyebrows at him, softly biting down on your lip. 

“Was that okay?” Frankie asked, shifting his hand up to gently cup your face, stroking his thumb in lazy circles around your cheek, staring back at you with his sweet puppy dog gaze. “I know I’ve done it before but I just always wanna make sure you feel good and-” 

You caught the rest of his sentence in your mouth, swallowing his words in another long, and tender kiss, pulling away from his plush lips to peck a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose, giggling once again. 

“God, I love you. What did I ever do to deserve you, Fransisco Morales? Yes, baby it was more than okay. So okay that in fact,” You huffed, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and letting your head fall to lay on his chest, “I think I need another nap.”

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @ilovepedro @itsokbbygrl

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #frankie morales imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #pedrohub #pedro pascal character #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedropascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fandom

[thesamoanqueen]

Way back Home

Raiting: 14+

Warnings: Angst; Fluff; The drama I dont want to talk about…

A/N: Morning break before WM39 and Im here to throw some angst around 'cause I'm going to have a meltdown tomorrow and that's it. Enjoy.

They had moved away from the city center for a while, streets were almost empty now, it must have been a residential neighborhood. Or so she thought, there were so many trees on the properties that it looked like a jungle out there and almost made houses disappear. Roman continued to swerve and follow the directions, but Y/N had looked at the map and there didn't seem to be anything nearby at all.

- Where we going? - she asked curiously, looking away from the window and at him, with that expression.

- I want to show you a thing – he announced with a smile, his attention still on the road, although by now there was no one except them.

Silently she looked out again, trying to understand. It was clearly a residential part of the city, an upmarket one probably. The streets and sidewalks were neat, the houses hardly visible, but the letterboxes and fences were, and even those made a decidedly good impression. She really didn't understand what there could be to see in such a place, perhaps a foundation, a small private museum maybe? a club? There was a connection to the bay across the river out there somewhere… all those trees were confusing her, it looked like a maze.

- We've been in the car for hours Ro.

- Are you tired?

- No, but you're keeping to go around, with all these houses, the empty streets... it seems like the beginning of an horror movie in which a serial killer drags a girl to his cabin in the middle of the Florida swamps and chains her there to torture her - she joked with a snort and Roman laughed, turning to face her for a moment.

Yes, she was exaggerating and yes, she was getting impatient, she knew it.

- There are some good people living here Y/N and if there was a chance one of us was a serial killer, it wouldn't be me. We both know that.

- True, but-

- Be good. Its here - Roman stopped her, slowly taking the last cross.

The news silenced her immediately and she moved her eyes to the road, which after the wide curve became a shaded and empty strip of asphalt. There were black railings along the sides and a few light stone pillars to space everything out, but no houses could no longer be see. Maybe there were some, but the properties must have been larger than what she had seen coming this far and after a few seconds, she realized the street wasn't even that long. It ended in a roundabout beyond which they had placed an elaborate iron gate and a lay-by with an intercom.

- What's beyond the gate? - she asked again as Roman rolled down the window to press the button just below the "for sale" sign.

- Not a cabin. – she heard him joking, before someone opened to let them in.

She had a few days off that week. A break in anticipation of what would soon happen and for which everyone would have to give their all. The idea of going home hadn't even crossed her mind for a second. It's not that she didn't like it, but she spent so much time away from there that it became a warehouse for the things she couldn't keep in her suitcase and with the mood she was in, Y/N really didn't want to set foot there to get away the plug. She needed to keep herself busy, to distract herself and continue to be absorbed by work had been one of her ways to overcome those moments for years. She had taken a car and driven almost half a day to get there, a flight would have been more practical, but sitting looking out a window with headphones on helps you think and she didn't want to. It was already afternoon when she had opened the door of the hotel room where she would stay until the next show and she had to take a shower. Leaving the suitcases in a corner and together with them her heels, she took off the earrings, rings and necklace, looking at her phone one last time.

The last message was from that morning. No calls, no news. He had yet another busy day. She took a picture of the city from the window to send it to Roman, an excuse to find out if he was all right and turned off the screen, breathing deeply to regain control, while she turned on the TV to fill the silence a bit and lock herself inside the bathroom.

Work had sucked her in one day and spat her out the next in a worse state than the previous one, Roman wasn't there, he wouldn't even be there the following week and to her it really seemed like an endless nightmare. She heard her co-workers talk, saw the show go on, people sit and stand as usual, but Y/N had the impression of being stuck in quicksand. She had tried to keep busy, to wear herself out physically, she had agreed to go out with some friends in an attempt to distract herself and resume a normal life, but just like with quicksand, moving had made things worse. She slept badly at night, head always elsewhere, clinging to those few moments in which Roman showed up and then disappeared again. She couldn't go on like the others if she didn't let go first and part of her, more than a part to say the truth, was refusing to do it… even to her own detriment. She should have faced things, cleared up, faced reality for her own good, but she was worried about Roman not herself. She trusted him, but knew how big the change was, how hard it could be to loosen his grip and lose control of something he'd driven and been responsible for for years and she didn't want him to go through it alone.

He didn't need her and had clearly chosen to keep her out of that phase of his life, yet Y/N felt she had to be there for him at that moment, she wanted to be there, to support him and in her own small way reassure him, even if her role it boiled down to a few texts and a couple of calls. Y/N'd never been the kind of woman who would give herself up to a man, her priorities had always taken precedence, but this time she just wasn't able to.

The garden looked like a little paradise, a peacefull island in the middle of nowhere. Nothing could be seen beyond the trees and the outline of the hill behind which the river flowed into the sea. There were other houses around it, yet everything seemed to be there to shield the place from the rest. Distracted, she watched the clear water of the pool stir in the wind and only when Roman sank onto the couch next to her, she turn around smiling. Y/N hadn't imagined something like this when he'd asked her to stay in Florida with him for a few days, but it had been fun.

- So, does it deserve a vote? - she heard him ask seriously, arm sliding behind to caress her bare shoulder.

- The color of the walls at the entrance is horrendous, this is not Tahiti – she reflected just as seriously.

- It can be changed.

- And living room and dining room should be reversed. There is more light on that side of the house, the windows are wider. It's strange that no one thought of it…

- Something else? - Roman inquired, looking at her with the tip of a smile.

- No, the floors are beautiful, bathrooms and fornitures too with all that marble. Rooms are huge and the garden alone is half the value of the entire house, your parents will love it.

Y/N couldn't say she knew them well, but she'd spent time with them for a variety of reasons, from PPVs to trips that Naomi and the twins had taken her and Roman was their copy. They loved having family together, keeping busy in the outdoors, that house would be perfect for everything. He had chosen well and the thought made her instinctively reach out to stroke his beard: he was a walking guarantee fund.

- It's not for my parents, my mother would be angry if I spent money on them. Its for me.

The carelessness with which he said it astounded her and Y/N hand slid down his arm as she stared at him in silence.

For him? Buying another house? Did he want to move or he just want a second house? Did make sense to have a second house so close to the first? Same state? When had that idea occurred to him? Why was the first time she heard that story? And what was she doing there with him?

- You take me to choose your house? – she asked confused, while he insisted on stroking her shoulder.

Because during their visit it didn't seem like he had already decided to take it and just wanted to show it to her. The real estate agent had asked him what was his first impression. First. Had he taken her to choose a house with him? It's not the kind of thing you do with… well, she wasn't that one for him. Maybe she was misunderstanding things, she must have misunderstood. That was a life choice to share with someone special and yes, they were more than friends, they had a unique relationship in their own way and they had added quite a few, lot, benefits over the last year, but that was a serious thing.

- You have more taste than me and it's an important step. I wanted you to be there – Roman admitted without too much trouble and Y/N abruptly swallowed the boulder that had risen down her throat.

They weren't that. There wasn't that between them. It would have been nice, but it wasn't like that, she knew it. She was, she… it was just her misunderstanding, because he had a natural talent for attracting attention and destroying pussies in any way possible. This one was new and unexpected, but still a way.

- You should have brought your mama or one of your sisters, it's an investment.

- I'm old enough to know how to manage my life. I wanted you. - he insisted and Y/N made an effort with all herself to remain lucid on that patio, because the moment he said it, her mind had gone elsewhere.

He wanted her. He had chosen her for a step like this. And it wasn't a fallback, he'd planned it because they'd planned those days in Florida together weeks ago, not out of the blue. Roman had really wanted her to be there with him, to be next to him and it was a good feeling. She knew well that they weren't planning anything, that it wasn't about choosing a house for some kind of future and that things between them wouldn't change once they stepped out of that gate again, but it was still a good feeling. Knowing that he wanted her with him, that somehow she needed her support. It was comforting.

She felt his hand tighten lightly on her shoulder and instinctively followed suit, squeezing hers on his arm, an uncontrolled smile creeping across her lips when she saw him smiling a little bit too. He was so-

- That area can be expanded if you want, maybe put in some children’s games, all permits are in place. - the real estate agent broke in out of nowhere, without even trying to hide her knowing look.

- Add them to the contract and let's review everything - she heard Roman add, with a cocky smile and the woman’s eyebrows raised so much that they almost touched her bangs, as she returned inside the house.

Whether it was because of his smile or the idea of having closed a contract with all those zeros was not clear.

In the last two months so much had changed for her… and Y/N really couldn't understand when that jump into the void after a bad moment had become everything. Maybe it was inside his private bus on the road to Charlotte or maybe on the trip to Portland with Jey and Jimmy. She remembered the endless days in the stadiums, breakfasts in the car and nights in the parking lots or inside hotel rooms before leaving again the following day. The night in the gym when she had decided to go over the limit and he hadn't hesitated for a moment, even tearing the air out of her lungs to fuck her senseless, the moments together that lasted a life or the absurd day when she had seen him sign a check for that which had become his new home with her next to him.

He had been in and out of that house for the past two months, planning and planning perhaps even with someone else next to him, while she waited for him, only suspecting what was inside his head and silencing her own. Y/N didn't want to think about it, she didn't want to focus on that, it would have been useless and more painful than it already was. She just wanted to be there for Roman. And so firm in her purpose, she waited for him to finish his round of greetings and let himself fall in the locker room next to her.

- That was a big pop - she recalled, still hearing the noises of people in her ears as Roman entered the ramp with Paul.

It was amazing how everything changed when he was around. For people it was moments, but for her it had become something else and being able to be there, alone, even if it was just a little, made her feel better.

- It played well yes… I like your hair – he commented, turning to look at her with a smile.

- Thank you. – she said softly, moving playful on of her twists from the shoulder and Roman nodded slowly, returning to stare at the floor of the locker room.

Having the opportunity to spend time away from that routine was doing him good, he was physically less tired, but there was still something wrong, she could see it.

- I have to thank you.

- For the hair?

- You know what I'm talking about Y/N – he said heavy, turning back to look at her and she felt her stomach crumple, because he had always been able to see beyond her and Y/N had almost forgotten how it was like.

He had chosen to keep her on the sidelines of that story from the first moment, whether because he wanted to face it alone or because her place wasn't at his side, Y/N really didn't know and wouldn't even ask. Not with Roman, not with how she felt about him. It hurt and she wished badly for things to be different, no matter what had or hadn't happened between them in nearly a year, but she was happy, immensely happy, that he was aware of her attempts to be there for him. Because it was all she ever wanted and it was worth it.

- Don’t say that. There’s no need. – she denied quickly, gritting her teeth so as not to collapse and let everything flow all over her, but Roman stopped her when her shoulders hadn't even had time to physically shake off those words.

Something was already ringing somewhere, probably a reminder for who knows what appointment or communication, but neither of them turned to check, not this time, not yet. Y/N felt his hand caress her cheek as it hadn't done for a long time and a part of her, the one beyond the impeccable facade, the one that had thrown herself upon him for comfort and was now seeking him like air, curled up in that point as if it were home.

- I had to do it. Another month, just one. – he swore seriously, rubbing her cheekbone with his thumb, eyes devouring her as they did every time they met.

It was a bad time of the year in their parallel universe to make promises and predictions for the future, but Roman was a man of his word and whatever came next, Y/N would go along with it anyway. That moment was enough for her to know that she was a safe road for him in that chapter of his life. Past or future. A month and then she would move on with her life, she could do it for him.

- Raise up. They are waiting for you.

One month. One.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyanarossi @wickedsunfire @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @iovereigns @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @vintage-pvssy @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @niknakbucks92 @wrestlezaynia @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @nestorsgirlfriend @brattyfics @wanna-be-dominated @kitanasposts @tribalchiefreigns @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @raeluvshammett @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @jeonmahi1864 @romanreignseater @kilviaa7 @thewarlordsworld @mzv11

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x you #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction

[ilmaveivi]

The Etymology of Finnish NHL Players a.k.a What Do Their Names Mean?

ATLANTIC DIVISION 2023-2024

BUFFALO SABRES

HENRI JOKIHARJU

HENRI /ˈhen.ri/

Derived from the Old High German name Haimirich, meaning “ruler of the home”.

JOKIHARJU /ˈjo.ki.hɑr.ju/

A topographic Finnish surname, meaning “river esker”.

UKKO-PEKKA LUUKKONEN

UKKO /ˈuk.ko/

The name of the Finnish and Karelian deity of weather, harvest and thunder. In modern Finnish, ukko means ”old man” and its diminutive form ukkonen means ”thunder”.

PEKKA /ˈpek.kɑ/

Derived from the Greek name Petros, meaning ”stone”.

LUUKKONEN /ˈluːk.ko.nen/

Based on a Savonian and Karelian given name derived from the Greek name Loukas, meaning ”from Lucania”.

DETROIT RED WINGS

OLLI MÄÄTTÄ

OLLI /ˈol.li/

Derived from the Old Norse name Áleifr, meaning “ancestor’s descendant”.

MÄÄTTÄ /ˈmæːt.tæ/

Possibly derived from the Late Latin name Clemens, meaning ”merciful”. Another possible origin is the ancient Finnish given name Lemmitty, meaning ”beloved”.

VILLE HUSSO

VILLE /ˈʋil.le/

Derived from the Old High German name Willihelm, meaning “will helmet”.

HUSSO /ˈhus.so/

Possibly derived from the Swedish word husse, meaning ”master”. Another possible origin is lake Huso in Northern Savonia, its meaning unknown.

FLORIDA PANTHERS

ALEKSANDER BARKOV

ALEKSANDER /ˈɑ.lek.sɑn.der/

Derived from the Greek name Alexandros, meaning ”defending men”.

BARKOV /ˈbɑr.koʋ/

A Russian surname possibly derived from the Russian word barka, meaning ”sloop”.

ANTON LUNDELL

ANTON /ˈɑn.ton/

Derived from the Roman family name Antonius, its meaning unknown.

LUNDELL /ˈlun.delː/

A Swedish surname derived from the Swedish word lund, meaning ”grove”.

EETU LUOSTARINEN

EETU /ˈeː.tu/

Derived from the Anglo-Saxon name Ēadweard, meaning ”wealth guard”.

LUOSTARINEN /ˈluo̯s.tɑ.ri.nen/

Derived from the Finnish word luostari, meaning ”cloister”.

NIKO MIKKOLA

NIKO /ˈni.ko/

Derived from the Greek name Nikolaos, meaning ”victory of the people”.

MIKKOLA /ˈmik.ko.lɑ/

Based on a Finnish given name derived from the Hebrew name Mikha’el, meaning ”who is like God?”.

MONTRÉAL CANADIENS

JOEL ARMIA

JOEL /ˈjo.el/

Derived from the Hebrew name Yo’el, meaning “Yahweh is God”.

ARMIA /ˈɑr.mi.ɑ/

Possibly derived from the Germanic name Herman, meaning ”army man”.

JESSE YLÖNEN

JESSE /ˈjes.se/

Derived from the Hebrew name Yishai, possibly meaning ”gift”.

YLÖNEN /ˈy.lø.nen/

A Savonian surname possibly derived from the Finnish word ylevä, meaning "noble". Another possible origin is the Finnish word yletön meaning ”excessive” or ” enormous”.

OTTAWA SENATORS

ROBY JÄRVENTIE

ROBY /ˈro.bi/

Derived from the German name Hrodebert, meaning ”bright fame”.

JÄRVENTIE /ˈjær.ʋen.tie̯/

A topographic Finnish surname meaning ”lake’s road.”

NIKOLAS MATINPALO

NIKOLAS /ˈni.ko.lɑs/

Derived from the Greek name Nikolaos, meaning ”victory of the people”.

MATINPALO /ˈmɑ.tin.pɑ.lo/

A topographic Finnish surname meaning ”Matti’s swidden”. The name Matti is derived from the Hebrew name ‘Mattityahu, meaning “gift of Yahweh”.

JOONAS KORPISALO

JOONAS /ˈjoː.nɑs/

Derived from the Hebrew name Yonah, meaning “dove”.

KORPISALO /ˈkor.pi.sɑ.lo/

A topographic Finnish surname, meaning ”deep forest”.

TAMPA BAY LIGHTNING

WALTTERI MERELÄ

WALTTERI /ˈʋɑlt.te.ri/

Derived from the Germanic name Waltheri, meaning ”power of the army”.

MERELÄ /ˈme.re.læ/

Derived from the Finnish word meri, meaning ”sea”.

NOTES:

During the 12th century, the tradition of Finnish given names was lost due to the Christianization of Finland under Sweden's rule. By the 16th century only Christian names were accepted, which is why Finnish forms of Christian names are still widely popular in Finland despite the society being fairly secular. The tradition of native Finnish given names wasn’t revived until the 19th century. 

Most Finnish surnames end in suffixes -nen or -la/-lä. The collective suffix -nen, which is more common in Eastern Finnish surnames, indicates belonging to a certain family or clan. The suffix -la/-lä, which is more common in Western Finnish surnames, creates oikonyms from the names of places, farms or small villages.

Karelian can be used to refer to a geographical place, language, dialect or people. It is important to note that Karelian is its own language separate from Finnish. However, the Finnish language also has a Karelian dialect that is spoken in the Finnish Karelia. Finnish surnames originating from Karelia have likely been influenced by both Karelian and Finnish.

The IPA forms follow Finnish phonology even with foreign (Swedish, Russian etc.) names in approximation to how an average Finn pronounces them.

The source for most of the given names is Behind The Name. The topographic surnames are direct translations. The explanations for the rest of the surnames are either from Wiktionary or based on speculation by Finnish genealogy enthusiasts, hence the overuse of the word "possibly".

Feedback is welcome. If you have additions or notice any mistakes, please let me know!

#buffalo sabres #florida panthers #detroit red wings #montréal canadiens #ottawa senators #this is very self-indulgent but i just think names are neat #and i wanted to tell everyone how cool upi’s name is #also he was apparently named after the third president of finland pehr evind svinhufvud whose nickname was ukko-pekka. the more you know 💫 #etymology

[lonestarflight]

Cancelled Missions: NASA's October 1977 Space Shuttle Flight Itinerary

"Soon after President Richard Nixon gave his blessing to the Space Shuttle Program on January 5, 1972, NASA scheduled its first orbital flight for 1977, then for March 1978. By early 1975, the date had slipped to March 1979. Funding shortfalls were to blame, as were the daunting engineering challenges of developing the world's first reusable orbital spaceship based on 1970s technology. The schedule slip was actually worse than NASA let on: as early as January 32, 1975, an internal NASA document (marked 'sensitive') gave a '90% probability date' for the first Shuttle launch of December 1979.

In October 1977, Chester Lee, director of Space Transportation System (STS) Operations at NASA Headquarters, distributed the first edition of the STS Flight Assignment Baseline, a launch schedule and payload manifest for the first 16 operational Shuttle missions. The document was in keeping with NASA's stated philosophy that reusable Shuttle Orbiters would fly on-time and often, like a fleet of cargo airplanes. The STS Utilization and Operations Office at NASA's Johnson Space Center (JSC) in Houston had prepared the document, which was meant to be revised quarterly as new customers chose the Space Shuttle as their cheap and reliable ride to space.

The JSC planners assumed that six Orbital Flight Test (OFT) missions would precede the first operational Shuttle flight. The OFT flights would see two-man crews (Commander and Pilot) put Orbiter Vehicle 102 (OV-102) through its paces in low-Earth orbit. The planners did not include the OFT schedule in their document, but the May 30, 1980 launch date for their first operational Shuttle mission suggests that they based their flight schedule on the March 1979 first OFT launch date.

Thirteen of the 16 operational flights would use OV-102 and three would use OV-101. NASA would christen OV-102 Columbia in February 1979, shortly before it rolled out of the Rockwell International plant in Palmdale, California.

As for OV-101, its name was changed from Constitution to Enterprise in mid-1976 at the insistence of Star Trek fans. Enterprise flew in Approach and Landing Test (ALT) flights at Edwards Air Force Base in California beginning on February 15, 1977. ALT flights, which saw the Orbiter carried by and dropped from a modified 747, ended soon after the NASA JSC planners released their document.

The first operational Space Shuttle mission, Flight 7 (May 30 - June 3, 1980), would see Columbia climb to a 225-nautical-mile (n-mi) orbit inclined 28.5° relative to Earth's equator (unless otherwise stated, all orbits are inclined at 28.5°, the latitude of Kennedy Space Center in Florida). The delta-winged Orbiter would carry a three-person crew in its two-deck crew compartment and the bus-sized Long Duration Exposure Facility (LDEF) in its 15-foot-wide, 60-foot-long payload bay.

Columbia would also carry a 'payload of opportunity' - that is, an unspecified payload. The presence of a payload of opportunity meant that the flight had available excess payload weight capacity. Payload mass up would total 27,925 pounds. Payload mass down after the Remote Manipulator System (RMS) arm hoisted LDEF out of Columbia's payload bay and released it into orbit would total 9080 pounds.

A page from the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document of October 1977 shows payloads and other features of the first five operational Space Shuttle missions plus Flight 12/Flight 12 Alternate

During Flight 8 (July 1-3, 1980), Columbia would orbit 160 n mi above the Earth. Three astronauts would release two satellites and their solid-propellant rocket stages: Tracking and Data Relay Satellite-A (TDRS-A) with a two-stage Interim Upper Stage (IUS) and the Satellite Business Systems-A (SBS-A) commercial communications satellite on a Spinning Solid Upper Stage-Delta-class (SSUS-D).

Prior to release, the crew would spin the SBS-A satellite about its long axis on a turntable to create gyroscopic stability and raise TDRS-A on a tilt-table. After release, their respective solid-propellant stages would propel them to their assigned slots in geostationary orbit (GEO), 19,323 n mi above the equator. Payload mass up would total 51,243 pounds; mass down, 8912 pounds, most of which would comprise reusable restraint and deployment hardware for the satellites.

The TDRS system, which would include three operational satellites and an orbiting spare, was meant to trim costs and improve communications coverage by replacing most of the ground-based Manned Space Flight Network (MSFN). Previous U.S. piloted missions had relied on MSFN ground stations to relay communications to and from the Mission Control Center (MCC) in Houston. Because spacecraft in low-Earth orbit could remain in range of a given ground station for only a few minutes at a time, astronauts were frequently out of contact with the MCC.

On Flight 9 (August 1-6, 1980), Columbia would climb to a 160-n-mi orbit. Three astronauts would deploy GOES-D, a National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) weather satellite, and Anik-C/1, a Canadian communications satellite. Before release, the crew would raise the NOAA satellite and its SSUS-Atlas-class (SSUS-A) rocket stage on the tilt-table and spin up the Anik-C/1-SSUS-D combination on the turntable. In addition to the two named satellites, NASA JSC planners reckoned that Columbia could carry a 14,000-pound payload of opportunity. Payload mass up would total 36,017 pounds; mass down, 21,116 pounds.

Following Flight 9, NASA would withdraw Columbia from service for 12 weeks to permit conversion from OFT configuration to operational configuration. The JSC planners explained that the conversion would be deferred until after Flight 9 to ensure an on-time first operational flight and to save time by combining it with Columbia's preparations for the first Spacelab mission on Flight 11. The switch from OFT to operational configuration would entail removal of Development Flight Instrumentation (sensors for monitoring Orbiter systems and performance); replacement of Commander and Pilot ejection seats on the crew compartment upper deck (the flight deck) with fixed seats; power system upgrades; and installation of an airlock on the crew compartment lower deck (the mid-deck).

Flight 10 (November 14-16, 1980) would be a near-copy of Flight 8. A three-person Columbia crew would deploy TDRS-B/IUS and SBS-B/SSUS-D into a 160-n-mi-high orbit. The rocket stages would then boost the satellites to GEO. Cargo mass up would total 53,744 pounds; mass down, 11,443 pounds.

Flight 11 (December 18-25, 1980) would see the orbital debut of Spacelab. Columbia would orbit Earth 160 n mi high at 57° of inclination. NASA and the multinational European Space Research Organization (ESRO) agreed in August 1973 that Europe should develop and manufacture Spacelab pressurized modules and unpressurized pallets for use in the Space Shuttle Program. Initially dubbed the 'sortie lab,' Spacelab would operate only in the Orbiter payload bay; it was not intended as an independent space station, though many hoped that it would help to demonstrate that an Earth-orbiting station could be useful.

ESRO merged with the European Launcher Development Organization in 1975 to form the European Space Agency (ESA). Columbia's five-person crew for Flight 11 would probably include scientists and at least one astronaut from an ESA member country.

Flight 12 (January 30 - February 1, 1981), a near-copy of Flights 8 and 10, would see Columbia's three-person crew deploy TDRS-C/IUS and Anik-C/2/SSUS-D into 160-n-mi-high orbit. Payload mass up would total 53,744 pounds; mass down, 11,443 pounds.

JSC planners inserted an optional 'Flight 12 Alternate' (January 30 - February 4, 1981) into their schedule which, if flown, would replace Flight 12. Columbia would orbit 160 n mi above the Earth. Its three-person crew would deploy Anik-C/2 on a SSUS-D stage. The mission's main purpose, however, would be to create a backup launch opportunity for an Intelsat V-class satellite already scheduled for launch on a U.S. Atlas-Centaur or European Ariane I rocket. An SSUS-A stage would boost the Intelsat V from Shuttle orbit to GEO.

NASA JSC assumed that, besides the satellites, stages, and their support hardware, Columbia would for Flight 12 Alternate tote an attached payload of opportunity that would need to operate in space for five days to provide useful data (hence the mission's planned duration). Payload mass up would total 37,067 pounds; mass down, 17,347 pounds.

Space Shuttle Flights 13 through 18 would include the first orbital mission of the OV-101 Enterprise (Flight 17), during which astronauts would retrieve the LDEF payload deployed during Flight 7.

Flight 13 (March 3-8, 1981) would see three astronauts on board Columbia release NOAA's GOES-E satellite attached to an SSUS-D stage into a 160-n-mi-high orbit. OV-102 would have room for two payloads of opportunity: one attached at the front of the payload bay and one deployed from a turntable aft of the GOES-E/SSUS-D combination. Payload mass up would total 38,549 pounds; mass down, 23,647 pounds.

Flight 14 would last 12 days, making it the longest described in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document. Scheduled for launch on April 7, 1981, it would carry a 'train' of four unpressurized Spacelab experiment pallets and an 'Igloo,' a small pressurized compartment for pallet support equipment. The Igloo, though pressurized, would not be accessible to the five-person crew. OV-102 would orbit 225 n mi high at an inclination of 57°. Mass up would total 31,833 pounds; mass down, 28,450 pounds.

Flight 15 (May 13-15, 1981) would be a near-copy of Flights 8, 10, and 12. OV-102 would transport to orbit a payload totaling 53,744 pounds; payload mass down would total 11,443 pounds. The JSC planners noted the possibility that none of the potential payloads for Flight 15 — TDRS-D and SBS-C or Anik-C/3 — would need to be launched as early as May 1981. TDRS-D was meant as an orbiting spare; if the first three TDRS operated as planned, its launch could be postponed. Likewise, SBS-C and Anik-C/3 were each a backup for the previously launched satellites in their series.

Flight 16 (June 16-23, 1981) would be a five-person Spacelab pressurized module flight aboard OV-102 in 160-n-mi-high orbit. Payloads of opportunity totaling about 18,000 pounds might accompany the Spacelab module; for planning purposes, a satellite and SSUS-D on a turntable behind the module was assumed. Payload mass up would total 35,676 pounds; mass down, 27,995 pounds.

Flight 17, scheduled for July 16-20, 1981, would see the space debut of Enterprise and the retrieval of the LDEF released during Flight 7. OV-101 would climb to a roughly 200-n-mi-high orbit (LDEF's altitude after 13.5 months of orbital decay would determine the mission's precise altitude).

Before rendezvous with LDEF, Flight 17's three-man crew would release an Intelsat V/SSUS-A and a satellite payload of opportunity. After the satellites were sent on their way, the astronauts would pilot Enterprise to a rendezvous with LDEF, snare it with the RMS, and secure it in the payload bay. Mass up would total 26,564 pounds; mass down, 26,369 pounds.

For Flight 18 (July 29-August 5, 1981), Columbia would carry to a 160-n-mi-high orbit a Spacelab pallet dedicated to materials processing in the vacuum and microgravity of space. The three-person flight might also include the first acknowledged Department of Defense (DOD) payload of the Space Shuttle Program, a U.S. Air Force pallet designated STP-P80-1. JSC called the payload 'Planned' rather than 'Firm' and noted somewhat cryptically that it was the Teal Ruby experiment 'accommodated from OFT [Orbital Flight Test].'

The presence of the Earth-directed Teal Ruby sensor payload would account for Flight 18's planned 57° orbital inclination, which would take it over most of Earth's densely populated areas. Payload mass up might total 32,548 pounds; mass down, 23,827 pounds.

Space Shuttle Flights 20 through 23 would include the first mission to make use of an OMS kit to increase its orbital altitude (Flight 21), the first European Space Agency-sponsored Spacelab mission (Flight 22), and the launch of the Jupiter Orbiter and Probe spacecraft (Flight 23)

Flight 19 (September 2-9, 1981) would see five Spacelab experiment pallets fill Columbia's payload bay. Five astronauts would operate the experiments, which would emphasize physics and astronomy. The Orbiter would circle Earth in a 216-n-mi-high orbit. Payload mass up would total 29,214 pounds; mass down, 27,522 pounds.

Flight 20 (September 30-October 6, 1981), the second Enterprise mission, would see five astronauts conduct life science and astronomy experiments in a 216-n-mi-high orbit using a Spacelab pressurized module and an unpressurized pallet. JSC planners acknowledged that the mission's down payload mass (34,248 pounds) might be 'excessive,' but noted that their estimate was 'based on preliminary payload data.' Mass up would total 37,065 pounds.

On Flight 21, scheduled for launch on October 14, 1981, Columbia would carry the first Orbital Maneuvering System (OMS) Kit at the aft end of its payload bay. The OMS Kit would carry enough supplemental propellants for the Orbiter's twin rear-mounted OMS engines to perform a velocity change of 500 feet per second. This would enable OV-102 to rendezvous with and retrieve the Solar Maximum Mission (SMM) satellite in a 300-n-mi-high orbit.

Three astronauts would fly the five-day mission, which would attain the highest orbital altitude of any flight in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document. JSC planners noted that the Multi-mission Modular Spacecraft (MMS) support hardware meant to carry SMM back to Earth could also transport an MMS-type satellite into orbit. Payload mass up would total 37,145 pounds; mass down, 23,433 pounds.

On Flight 22 (November 25 - December 2, 1981), Enterprise might carry an ESA-sponsored Spacelab mission with a five-person crew, a pressurized lab module, and a pallet to a 155-to-177-n-mi orbit inclined at 57°. Payload mass up might total 34,031 pounds; mass down, 32,339 pounds.

During Flight 23 (January 5-6, 1982), the last described in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document, three astronauts would deploy into a 150-to-160-n-mi-high orbit the Jupiter Orbiter and Probe (JOP) spacecraft on a stack of three IUSs. President Jimmy Carter had requested new-start funds for JOP in his Fiscal Year 1978 NASA budget, which had taken effect on October 1, 1977. Because JOP was so new when they prepared their document, JSC planners declined to estimate up/down payload masses.

Flight 23 formed an anchor point for the Shuttle schedule because JOP had a launch window dictated by the movements of the planets. If the automated explorer did not leave for Jupiter between January 2 and 12, 1982, it would mean a 13-month delay while Earth and Jupiter moved into position for another launch attempt.

Almost nothing in the October 1977 STS Flight Assignment Baseline document occurred as planned. It was not even updated quarterly; no update had been issued as of mid-November 1978, by which time the target launch dates for the first Space Shuttle orbital mission and the first operational Shuttle flight had slipped officially to September 28, 1979 and February 27, 1981, respectively.

The Space Shuttle Orbiter Columbia lifts off at the start of STS-1.

The first Shuttle flight, designated STS-1, did not in fact lift off until April 12, 1981. As in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document, OV-102 Columbia performed the OFT missions; OFT concluded, however, after only four flights. After the seven-day STS-4 mission (June 27 - July 4, 1982), President Ronald Reagan declared the Shuttle operational.

The first operational flight, also using Columbia, was STS-5 (November 11-16, 1982). The mission launched SBS-3 and Anik-C/3; because of Shuttle delays, the other SBS and Anik-C satellites planned for Shuttle launch had already reached space atop expendable rockets.

To the chagrin of many Star Trek fans, Enterprise never reached space. NASA decided that it would be less costly to convert Structural Test Article-099 into a flight-worthy Orbiter than to refit Enterprise for spaceflight after the ALT series. OV-099, christened Challenger, first reached space on mission STS-6 (April 4-9, 1983), which saw deployment of the first TDRS satellite.

NASA put OV-101 Enterprise to work in a variety of tests and rehearsals (such as the 'fit check' shown in the image above), but did not convert it into a spaceflight-worthy Orbiter.

The voluminous Spacelab pressurized module first reached orbit on board Columbia on mission STS-9 (November 28- December 8,1983). The 10-day Spacelab 1 mission included ESA researcher Ulf Merbold and NASA scientist-astronauts Owen Garriott and Robert Parker. Garriott, selected to be an astronaut in 1965, had flown for 59 days on board the Skylab space station in 1973. Parker had been selected in 1967, but STS-9 was his first spaceflight.

The 21,500-pound LDEF reached Earth orbit on board Challenger on STS-41C, the 11th Space Shuttle mission (April 6-13, 1984). During the same mission, astronauts captured, repaired, and released the SMM satellite, which had reached orbit on 14 February 1980 and malfunctioned in January 1981. Challenger reached SMM without an OMS kit; in fact, no OMS kit ever reached space.

STS Flight Assignment Baseline document assumed that 22 Shuttle flights (six OFT and 16 operational) would occur before January 1982. In fact, the 22nd Shuttle flight did not begin until October 1985, when Challenger carried eight astronauts and the West German Spacelab D1 into space (STS-61A, October 30 - November 6, 1985). Three months later (28 January 1986), Challenger was destroyed at the start of STS-51L, the Shuttle Program's 25th mission.

In addition to seven astronauts — NASA's first in-flight fatalities — Challenger took with it TDRS-B, NASA's second TDRS satellite. The Shuttle would not fly again until September 1988 (STS-26, September 29 - October 3, 1988). On that mission, OV-103 Discovery deployed TDRS-C. The TDRS system would not include the three satellites necessary for global coverage until TDRS-D reached orbit on board Discovery on mission STS-29 (13-18 March 1989).

Following the Challenger accident, NASA abandoned — though not without some resistance — the pretense that it operated a fleet of cargo planes. The space agency had at one time aimed for 60 Shuttle flights per year; between 1988 and 2003, the Shuttle Program managed about six per year. The most flights the Shuttle fleet accomplished in a year was nine in 1985.

Shuttle delays meant that JOP, renamed Galileo, missed its early January 1982 launch window. It was eventually rescheduled for May 1986, but the Challenger accident intervened. Galileo finally left Earth orbit on 18 October 1989 following deployment from OV-104 Atlantis during STS-34 (October 18-23, 1989).

Between the time JOP/Galileo received its first funding and the Challenger explosion, NASA, the White House, and Congress had sparred over how the Jupiter spacecraft would depart Earth orbit. Eventually, they settled on the powerful liquid-propellant Centaur-G' rocket stage.

Citing new concern for safety following Challenger, NASA canceled Centaur G'. Galileo had to rely on the less-powerful IUS, which meant that it could not travel directly to Jupiter; it had instead to perform gravity-assist flybys of Venus and Earth to reach its exploration target. Galileo did not reach the Jupiter system until December 1995.

LDEF had been scheduled for retrieval in March 1985, less than a year after deployment, but flight delays and the Challenger accident postponed its return to Earth by nearly six years. On mission STS-32 (January 9-20, 1990), astronauts on board Columbia retrieved LDEF, the orbit of which had decayed to 178 n mi. LDEF remains the largest object ever retrieved in space and returned to Earth.

During reentry at the end of mission STS-107 (16 January-1 February 2003), Columbia broke apart over northeast Texas, killing its international crew of seven astronauts. This precipitated cancellation of the Space Shuttle Program by President George W. Bush, who announced his decision on 14 January 2004.

The end of the Space Shuttle Program was originally scheduled for 2010, immediately following the planned completion of the International Space Station. In the event, STS-135, the final Space Shuttle mission, took place four years ago (July 2011), three months after the 30th anniversary of STS-1. The Orbiter Atlantis lifted off on 8 July with a four-person crew — the smallest since STS-6. It docked with the International Space Station to deliver supplies and spares and landed in Florida 13 days later."

Article by David S. F. Portree: link

source, source

NASA ID: S77-5784, S77-5785, S77-5758

#STS-1 #STS-2 #STS-3 #STS-4 #STS-5 #STS-6 #STS-7 #STS-8 #STS-9 #STS-10 #STS-11 #STS-12 #STS-13 #STS-14 #STS-15 #STS-16 #STS-17 #STS-18 #STS-19 #STS-20 #STS-21 #STS-22 #STS-23 #Space Shuttle Columbia #Columbia #OV-102 #Space Shuttle Enterprise #Enterprise #OV-101 #cancelled

[mariacallous]

An LGTBQ+ pride event usually held along the riverwalk in Tampa, Florida, has been canceled after hard-right Gov. Ron DeSantis signed a bevy of anti-LGBTQ+ bills into law this week.

Tampa Pride President Carrie West confirmed to several local news outlets that the event, called Tampa Pride on the River, would not go ahead in September because it features drag performances at a public venue. One of the state’s new laws targets drag where it might be visible to minors.

In the end, we didn’t want to take any chances,” West told the Tampa Bay Times on Thursday.

“Really, I’m sorry,” West told WFLA, an NBC affiliate.

The event usually draws around 20,000 people to downtown Tampa for food, drinks and entertainment in an area without any fencing, according to a St. Petersburg CBS affiliate.

It is at least the second pride event to be canceled as Florida Republicans continue to attack the LGBTQ+ community. Officials in Port St. Lucie — a city north of West Palm Beach — axed a pride parade last month.

On Wednesday, DeSantis appeared at Tampa’s private Cambridge Christian School with a fistful of Sharpies to sign a number of bills curbing the rights of LGBTQ+ people in his state, which he dubbed “a citadel of normalcy.”

In addition to targeting drag shows, the new legislation bans gender-affirming health care for minors, including puberty blockers, while implementing new rules for adults who elect the procedures. It bars people from using bathrooms associated with their gender identity and cracks down on preferred pronoun use in schools. DeSantis also expanded the state’s so-called “Don’t Say Gay” law to reach classrooms from pre-K through eighth grade, prohibiting in vague terms any mention of gender identity.

The governor tossed the Sharpies used to sign the bills into a crowd of onlookers, PBS Newshour noted.

DeSantis is widely expected to announce his bid for the 2024 Republican presidential nomination in the coming days.

[claudeng80]

1, 8, and 16 of fic recs ask meme 💙

👍🏽 A fic you bookmarked recently

My most recent bookmark is Sometimes Cheating is the Best Policy. All the Twisted Wonderland characters are being their most intense selves in a plot that just makes me giggle from beginning to end. There are not enough braincells to go around and it is such a delight.

🥰 A fic that gives you warm fuzzy feelings

Five Times Frederick Wentworth Had The Breath Knocked Out of Him on the Ice is definitely my favorite modern AU Persuasion ever. It manages to move all that longing and barriers to an Olympic sports context, and it's so fantastic. So satisfying, both in the way the plot of Persuasion is satisfying, and also in appreciation of how cleverly adapted it is.

💞 A fic that led to you making friends with the author

Well hands down that has to be The Wide Florida Bay. I was laid up after surgery and couldn't sleep and I'd just read the first few published chapters and sent the author a whole headcanon on the characters' gaming habits. And now we've been friends for almost 8 years and go on vacations together.

Fic recs ask meme

#fic recs #ask meme

[paleopalsfacts]

Give me as much information about the super epic shark Megalodon as much as you can I need it for school for real!!!

Megalodon Facts!

Hi and thanks for your question!  megalodon is pretty well known but here are some more obscure facts I found that will hopefully help!

Megalodon teeth were used by a variety of pre-contact cultures in North America.  It is thought that they were valued artifacts and/or that they were modified to be used as weapons.  Megladon teeth were mined from Chesapeake Bay and traded with other cultures nearby.

Megalodons used to be classified in the same genus as Great white sharks (Carcharodon) because of the similarities between their teeth.  The current model is that Megalodon belongs to the Otodus genus and the similarities between its teeth and Great white sharks is a case of convergent evolution making them appear similar.  They (megalodons and great white sharks) would still probably look somewhat similar based on how we have interpreted other ancient sharks and their similarity with modern lamnids such as great white sharks.

They were also widely distributed, with fossils being found all over the world.  Based on where we have found megalodon teeth we can infer its tolerance of environmental temperatures is between 1-24 C (34-75 F).  They where probably able to handle such cold temperatures because they were mesotherms.  That is when an animal isn't quite an endotherm (able to create our own heat) but isn't an ectotherm (can't regulate their body temperature like most snakes for example).  They had the ability to affect their body temperature via their metabolism but when the temperature in the environment is decreased their body temperature will also decrease.  It is also thought that as body size increases in mesotherm animals there body temperature increases because of the square cube law.  It is hypothesized that one of the reasons megalodon was so large. (you can read more in the article cited below). 

Also megalodons have gone extinct no matter what the discovery channel says

Hope this helps!!

Sources bellow:

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

papers:

Lowery, Darrin, et al. “INTEGRATED GEOLOGY, PALEONTOLOGY, AND ARCHAEOLOGY: NATIVE AMERICAN USE OF FOSSIL SHARK TEETH IN THE CHESAPEAKE BAY REGION.” Archaeology of Eastern North America, vol. 39, 2011, pp. 93–108. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23265116. Accessed 27 Feb. 2024.

Farrell, A. D. (A. D. ). A Use-Wear And Functional Analysis Of Precontact Shark Teeth Assemblages From Florida. no date. Florida State University, 2021.

Ferrón, Humberto G. “Regional endothermy as a trigger for gigantism in some extinct macropredatory sharks.” PloS one vol. 12,9 e0185185. 22 Sep. 2017, doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0185185

links:

#paleontology #megalodon #shark #answered

[bitchinbarzal]

after getting sasha’s reaction to ivy getting hurt can we have ivy’s reaction to sasha getting hurt during a game and trevor or even mat is trying to hold ivy back from rushing down to the locker room until she calms down

It was a Florida player who knocked him over, sliding right into his legs sending him flying.

Ivy yelled out interference before noticing he wasn’t getting up.

“Why isn’t he getting up?” She mumbled before watching the team shield him from view and the medical staff run on the ice.

“Ives, I’m sure he’s fine” her dad assured her from his seat. Then the backboard came out.

Ivy wasn’t sitting here any longer. She grabbed her jacket and started making her way downstairs — her father and father in law following behind.

She barges past security “Woah okay” Mat is grabbing her from running into the medical bay.

“Dad let me go!” She cries out, thrashing in his arms.

“Ivy you gotta calm down”

“I need to see him, know he’s okay!” She calls out.

Trevor steps forward “Ivy, I’m sure they’ll tell us when they have an update”

She agreed and they were joined by her mom and mother in law soon after who rolled their eyes when their husbands told them she was upset. Adding on

“Yeah we used to get like that but you guys never see that”

One of the medical staff came out and ivy demanded an update, being told she could go in.

Ivy made her way in, Sasha laying on the table with pain clearly written on his face.

“Sash” she breathed and he smiled over at her

“Hey baby”

“You scared the shit outta me” she laughs, kissing his forehead.

“I didn’t mean to” “your dad and mine had to hold me back”

His eyes go wide “damn you were really worried”

When the parents come in and Ivy leaves to freshen up Trevor says to his son “that girl? Loves you so much kid”

“Really?”

“Yeah she was willing to fight so hard to get in here just to see you were ok”

#sasha and ivy

[sabraeal]

Get On and Move Your Body

[Read on AO3]

Written for the irreplaceable (and irrepressible) @bubblesthemonsterartist, who officially becomes OLD(er than me) today! As she already has a few more golden tickets to keep me putting chapters on her favorite niche AU this year, she elected to instead ask for another piece of what we like to call the “Secret Subplot” in WFB. Which means...more Six Flags shenanigans >:3c

For as much as Chief’s planned this whole trip down to the breath, trouble finds them not even minute out the door. Unlike every other SUV His Highness has been carted around in, Big Guy’s Mazda is a mid-size, only enough seats for four grown adults and one guy with the same dimensions as a piece of paper.

“Aw, c’mon, Boss,” Obi cajoles, leaning a hip against the hood. “What’s the problem? We all love each other.”

The problem is that it doesn’t match Romeo’s vision of tucking into the back row and making eyes at each other over the bench seat. But that’s not something he can say, not when Doc is already bouncing on her heels eager to go. 

“There’s not enough room,” Chief grits out instead, glaring at him like he’s the one who made the specs. “There’s no way you can fit three people on that.”

Not without knocking elbows, sure. But Obi’s been in smaller places participating in more...athletic activities. “I dunno, some guy with an engineering degree sure thought you could.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Big Guy insists, like a person who’s never sat bitch in his life. “There’s lots of leg room back there!”

He and the Little Prince exchange looks. Both of them say, this man’s legs have never been anywhere behind the front row.

“We can take my car,” Obi floats; an imperfect solution, but since Danny Ocean here made an imperfect plan, it’s the best they got. “I just vacuumed it last week and everything.”

The correct answer here would be, wow, Obi, thanks, you’re a real one. Or maybe, I’ll name my firstborn after you. He’s not picky. But what he gets is a lip curl so aristocratic it would make guillotines in Paris salivate.

“Why would I go in that death trap?” he sneers, tossing it a gaze so scathing it nearly scratches the paint. “It’s got the same amount of seats.”

Same amount of seats, different driver. One that didn’t have a girlfriend to ride shotgun, which meant if Big Guy did some personal origami, he could fit himself there, and Princess could slide right into the back. And if they convinced Doc to be the cream in their golden oreo, well, maybe it wouldn’t be the pink-stained Wes Anderson aesthetic of pining, but at least his thigh would be all pressed up against hers. That would be like a whole ass base in their weird game of no-contact dating, wouldn’t it?

Alas, the bossguy doesn’t see his vision. So someone’s gotta take a dive.

“All right, all right.” Obi holds up his hands, all charming resignation. “Chief’s got a point. We can’t possibly all fit. So in the best interest of this whole posse, I will--”

Kiki grips his shoulder, hard enough to creak. “Don’t even try it.”

“A-ack!” he hiccups, knees weak under the pressure. “Miss Kiki, I was only trying to--”

“You have to come, Obi!” Oh, it’s not fair that Doc’s been pulled into this, all shining eyes and earnestly clasped hands. “There’s no point in going if we don’t all go!”

“Ah...” He scrapes a palm over the back of his neck, letting it settle over the ache in his shoulder. “Well, I suppose if you’re going to insist, Doc...”

Bossman’s sigh hisses through his teeth, the fight slipping right out of him. “So are we taking two cars, or...?”

It’s with a predator’s smile that Little Miss Shotgun slips past both of them, leaning right in to suggest, “I think you can just suck it up.”

His jaw drops. “But...ugh, fine. I call a window, though.”

Obi’s sure to be all smiles when Romeo throws himself into the rear seat, scowling. 

“No problem at all, Chief.” He waits until bossman’s buckled, committed, before he turns all the potential energy stored up in his limbs to kinetic, springing into the bitch seat with a smile that can only be called unhinged. “I’ve always wanted to be an Obi sandwich.”

Chief’s always had the prettiest eyes, but they’ve never looked more beautiful than this, all wide and wild and ready to wrap his hands around his throat. “But-- you-- I-- Shirayuki--”

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind.” Obi reaches out, giving his knee a nice pat as Doc tucks herself in beside him. “I wasn’t loved enough as a child.”

“Now isn’t this nice,” Big Guy says with a glance in the rearview. “You three look so cozy!”

Chief’s mouth works, a half-dozen complaints circling the runway before fizzling out at the tip of his tongue. With one last sigh, he manages, “Ugh.”

“You know what I like about you, Chief?” He casts him a dreamy look, chin-in-palm and all. “Your eloquence.”

“Obi?” His name sounds so nice grit between Young Master’s teeth. “Go fuck yourself.”

It’s strange, not being the one with the plan. Not that Shirayuki doesn’t appreciate the effort! It’s just...

They’d barely left the roundabout of their driveway before Zen had pulled up a park map, reaching over Obi’s lap to show her that it’s a straight shot from the entrance to the comic themed area. It’s just a smattering of numbers and symbols to her, but it’s clear that for as flat as this map is on his phone, it’s a real place in his head, one he knows well enough to walk in his sleep.

Kiki, for her part, snubs every Dunkins until the last exit. As soon as they’re off the highway, she directs Mitsuhide into a small strip mall parking lot-- just seven shops with the Dunkins sandwiched in between, not even enough room for a drive-through-- and has him walk in with their order.

What’s the deal? Obi had laughed, taking a sip from his iced mocha. They put solid gold in these or something?

Her cup sat in the holder, steaming. Timing.

It’s already warm this morning, but the moment Zen and Kiki step out of the car they both take the first sips from their cups and sigh.

“Perfect,” he sighs, eyes fluttering open to fix on her. “How about you, Shirayuki?”

Her iced hot chocolate has already melted, forgotten after the first sip, and there’s no way she can politely explain that there’s something lost in translation when it comes to taste. So instead she settles for, “Good!”

“Great.” His whole face softens, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way she wishes she could touch, but-- but that’s not a good idea. Not when there’s people behind them in line taking pictures, and someone else with their phone out in the next line over, trying to get their barcodes on the screen.  “Oh, here, I’m the one with the tickets, let me just--”

There’s too many people crushed close for him to comfortably shuffle through; even with Kiki and Mitsuhide stepping out of the way, he still has to stretch between them to reach the turnstile. The ticket taker-- er, guest service representative stares down at him, taking in the mirrored sunglasses and nondescript baseball cap, and a frown brews at the corners of her mouth.

“Ah, here, Boss.” Obi, close enough to rest his hip on the stile itself, plucks to phone out of his hand and offers one of his lop-sided smiles. “Sorry about that. There’s five of us.”

The gaze she sweeps up Obi is slower, dragging around his waist and again at his shoulders, but finally it settles right onto her reflection in his Aviators. It’s not quite a smile that she gives him, but there’s a definite lightness when she says, “I’m going to need you to flip through them.”

It’s nothing that should make her uncomfortable; Obi always jokes that he has a magnetism, that he really knows how to light a flame, and it’s not as if she doubted him, it’s just-- it’s strange to see it in action. To watch a complete stranger twirl her hair and lean close as she scans some barcodes, glancing up at him between each screen as if she’s hoping to catch his eye. And yet the only time he does is when she’s done, letting his smile pull a scooch wider as he says, “Thanks.”

Shirayuki doesn’t think she imagines the disappointment in the girl’s rote, “You can all go in now. Please enjoy your day at Six Flag’s New England.”

“Unbelievable,” Zen mutters as they walk out from under the turnstiles’ shade, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I smile and make nice, and she acts like I’m a felon. You go off and do the same thing and she practically trips over herself to help you.”

“What did I tell ya, Chief?” Obi lowers his Aviators to give him what Shirayuki can only call a saucy wink. “It’s the charisma. Raw animal--”

“It’s the height,” Kiki says with all the subtlety of smashed keys on a piano. “And the scar.”

Zen turns to him, assessing, and scowls. “You’re not that much taller than me.”

Obi’s all mirrored glass and teeth when he answers, “It’s not the size, Boss, it’s how you use it.”

“Three inches,” Kiki interjects, with all the interest of watching paint dry. “And Obi doesn’t skip his core workouts.”

“I’m not skipping, I’m just busy--”

“Don’t worry, Chief, she’s going to be kicking herself when she find out just which GQ motherfucker she snubbed in the ticket line--”

It’s not on purpose that Shirayuki lets them slip ahead; no, she simply gets to the welcome gate, a massive stretch of red brick and Greek columns that reminds her of nothing more than the State’s Pavilion at the Big E, and it hits her-- it’s been a long time since she’s been to a park like this.

She was supposed to go...two years ago now. The senior trip, an overnight to Dorney Park that had everyone buzzing about room assignments, about the last time they went in eighth grade, and ha ha, wasn’t a trip like this for kids? It hadn’t stopped them from getting excited, from spending every moment between periods making plans about which rides to go on, which times they might be able to sneak away and meet boyfriends on balconies or behind Staff Only signs.

Oma had already been sick, then. She’d been slipping between home and hospital every few months, and by March, it became weeks, the bills from previous stays stacking up on the sideboard. A trip to the other side of the state wouldn’t break the bank, but it was still money that they wouldn’t have, another hassle for Opa to handle. It’d been nothing to hide to permission form, to tear it to pieces the next time Opa was out of the house and bury it at the bottom of the kitchen trashcan. Two days in the school library had seemed a small price to pay to keep another worry off his plate. That’s what they did; look after each other.

Or rather, that was what Shirayuki thought they were supposed to be doing, anyway.

The school had been willing to take her even still; her homeroom teacher even taking her out of lunch the day before to explain they had a budget for situations like this, that she could still come and enjoy being a senior like everyone else in her class, but--

But she’d told them she got motion sick. A hard thing to argue with, so they left her alone instead. She’d been good at that. At getting people to look away. It helped that most people wanted to.

There’s a tap on her hand, long bone to long bone-- metacarpals, her textbook would say-- and it’s too firm to be a mistake. Not an accidental brush, but a solid reminder, and as she looks up into the furrow at Obi’s brow, she wonders where she lost the knack of going unseen. “You good, Doc?”

“Yeah.” It’s a struggle to bring her smile to the surface, to try to submerge those raw pieces of herself. “Just...been a while.”

Obi’s not one for extended eye contact outside of a threat, but when he looks at her now it’s like she’s made of puzzle pieces instead of physical features, trying to put them together in an expression that fits in the hard boundaries of her face. And then, with one slow blink, he turns away. Purposeful, even though he doesn’t once fall out of step beside her, and, oh-- he’s letting her compose herself. Letting her choose what she’d like him to see. “I get you.”

For the first time, Shirayuki’s beginning to suspect that might be true.

With a sigh, he adds, “Not long enough, though.”

There’s a small rise to get up to Main Street, and her feet stutter to a stop there, dying to ask why. In books the mysterious companion is always stoic, always silent, a fortress of secrets that no word escapes from. But Obi-- Obi never stops talking, to the point that she wonders when he breathes. And yet it’s never about himself, and she just-- she just wants to know him. To understand why somewhere designed down to the dishware to be one of the happiest places on earth makes his skin crawl. Why he chose to come here even when--

“Oh, there you are!”

Shirayuki can be the first to admit: she’s not paying attention. Even still, she gasps when Zen appears beside her, cupping a hand around her elbow. The cup becomes a catch, fingers latching firmly to tow her through the crowd. “Wait...”

“Come on.” He grins, all eagerness and excitement beneath polarized glass, and it’s infectious. “If we’re going to ride Superman, then we need to get there before the crowd.”

There’s no time to temper her expectations; the last time she walked into a park, it was with Oma on one side and Opa on the other, the buildings along the fairway towering over her, coasts nothing but a distant thunder rumbling deeper in the park, a monstrous set of snakes dueling just over the horizon. She’s taller now though, a grown adult, and for one breathless moment at the top of the hill, she wonders if it’s enough for time to have made places to make someplace like this small.

The worry lasts less than a blink; just a turn of the corner, and-- and--

Red tracks loom over the park, a bright blue car hurtling past with so much force behind it that the pavement rattles beneath her. It flies into a loop, screams trailing seconds behind, and oh, she doesn’t have to wonder why it’s called Superman when it’s got a rise like that, one big peak stretching high enough that the cart doesn’t so much ride up it as it is ratcheted up it, a click click clunk she can hear from the top of the stairs.

“We’re going on that?” The last coaster she went on was in the kiddie area, a little wooden thing that went click-clack beneath her sneakers and relied on centrifugal force to keep them in their seats. Still, it seems safer than this, five-point harnesses and all.

“It’s the biggest coaster in the park.” He hardly needs to tell her that; it’s heads and shoulders above every other ride in sight, save for the drop tower. “When you go down that peak, you experience the same amount of g forces as astronauts on reentry. More than any other coaster in the country until they built Kingda Ka.”

Obi lingers two steps back, hands hooked behind his head, and whistles. “Been studying up, eh, bossman?”

Kiki snorts, shouldering in beside him. “He sure knows a lot for someone’s whose last few experiences with coasters ended with--”

“I was fourteen,” Zen informs her primly. “And that wasn’t even a coaster, it was a tower, which is a much different motion that plenty of people have issues with, and--”

“Shouldn’t we work our way up to this?” Shirayuki would love to sound mild and casual, like she’s only thinking of the group, but instead she’s just...shrill. “Maybe start on, er, that one?”

She flings out an arm, pointing to the track that curls around Superman’s struts like a cat. It’s green, built so low to the ground that it almost disappears into the trees studding the course, and it’s not until everyone looks that she realizes small children are standing in the line to wait with their parents.

“Catwoman’s Whip?” Kiki cocks her head. “That’s a kiddie coaster.”

“And the line never gets that long,” Zen assures her, as if that’s some argument against it. “If you don’t hit Superman at the start of the day, you’ll have to wait hours in line for a single ride.”

“Oh...right.” She swallows, smoothing her palms over her skirt. “Of course. Then I guess...why not?”

“What’s the matter, Doc?” Obi slinks up beside her, all slants and angles. “Throwing yourself out a window is fine but somehow coasters give you cold feet?”

“N-no! It’s just--” there’s a difference between spur of the moment heroics and planning to throw herself from a dozen stories up for fun, and all of it has to do with anticipation “--really big.”

“Ahhh, right. And you’re tiny.” An unnecessary observation, in Shirayuki’s opinion, but with the way has to stoop to make his smile even with hers, she can’t really say it’s wrong. “You know, I can always hold your hand if you get scared, Doc. I’m long enough I could even be a human seat belt, if you--”

“Hey.” Zen’s arm swings down between them, cleaving a space for him to slide into. “I’m the one that’s going to be holding her hand, thank you very much. Ah, that is, er--” he glances at her, a sheepish blush blooming across the flat of his cheeks “--if you actually want to go. We really don’t have to, I just though--”

“No, no!” Her fingers knit through his, palms close enough to kiss. He’s just the right size for it to be the perfect fit. “Holding hands will be nice.”

The thing is: Obi doesn’t really do friends. Or at least, he didn’t. Sure, he’d had kids he hung around in school to pass the time, or other fighters he’d be friendly with until the moment money-- or their girlfriends-- got between them, but not...this. He wasn’t the kind of guy who got six am smoothies at Starbucks after a spar, or who worried about if their roommate would catch them skipping leg day, or who anyone would notice if he missed a meal.

But then Richie Rich pluck him right out of the trash, and suddenly he can’t escape it. Big Guy piling extra fancy ham into a perfectly golden sandwich melt. Princess hunting him down to drink beers on the roof. Bossman cornering him about the state of his resume. And Doc...

Well, it’d be easier to list what Doc didn’t do. So he doesn’t mind getting dragged to some theme park, and he’s determined not to mind being the odd one out. He’d known the score when he agreed to come, known how this would all shake out no matter how many times they told him, it’s not a date--

But they still separate out into pairs without a thought when the lines split for loading. Doc and Chief in one, Princess and Big Guy in the other. One glance at the diagram posted on the wall tells him all he needs to know: two seats to a row, two rows to a car. Best he can do is slip in to the one right behind them and shout across the gap.

The carts roll up, and none of them even give it a second thought as they slide in, two cozy couples with eyes only for each other. It’s cute. Objectively.

The operator scuffs up beside him, giving him one long, measuring look before she calls out, “Singleton here! We need one more!”

His teeth grit down, wincing as Doc looks back, guilt written in broad strokes across her face. He may not be able to hear her over the crowd, but he can see her mouth, “Obi doesn’t have a partner!”

God, being fifth wheel sucks. Good thing they’re worth it.

Doc wiggles in her seat, head swinging frantically from side to side, but it’s not until she glances back, distressed gaze fixed on him, that he realizes she’s looking for the release. That she’s actually going to climb back here and--

“There’s five of us,” Kiki informs her mildly, both close enough and loud enough to be heard. “No matter what we do, someone is sitting alone.”

“But...” Doc stills, and all right, Princess might be the reasonable one here, but Obi still wishes they were in the same car, if only so he could kick the back of her seat. “We promised...”

“Oh, I-- I don’t have one!” A girl breaks free from the group behind him, scurrying up to the operator. “Can I take it?”

Objectively, she’s hot. Tan skin, dark eyes, and long legs framed by even shorter shorts, just the kind of girl he would have taken back to his place after a fight and forgotten about by morning.

She slips in next him, smile nervous as she tells him, “Sorry, my friends are behind us. They’re gonna be--”

“Julie, he’s hot,” one hoots from two rows back. Another adds from right behind them, so helpful, “Get it!”

“--Loud,” she sighs, flushed. “Sorry again.”

“Don’t be.” In another life he’d be interested-- hell, he probably should be in this one-- but all he can think of is red hair and a sweet smile. “They seem fun. This your first time?”

She casts a wary look up the rise. “I’ve done coasters, but...”

He grins. “Well, if you gotta grab on to someone, you won’t break me.”

The look she turns on him is speculative, and, ah, he might not be interested, but something tells him the feeling isn’t mutual. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After being flung around a track like a hamster in a wheel, Zen doesn’t expect to find the exit ramp the hardest bit. The shaking legs don’t help, of course, sending him careening into a wall with all the grace of a drunk gazelle, but one or two more breaths gets him steady. Lets him find his sea legs, as it were. Just...on land.

Whatever it is, he’s just glad that handful of dramamine worked. Last thing he needs is for Shirayuki to see him hurl into a trashcan for twenty minutes. Especially when he’s got a dozen coasters to get through today, and that’s just the good ones.

“Oh, my...” Shirayuki stumbles up next to him, leaning into his side like a crutch. “Wow.”

It take a second for him to calm himself enough to manage, “Did you have fun?”

She beams up at him, eyes shining and cheeks flushed, and oh, he’s glad he brought more of those pills in his pocket, because he’ll ride a hundred of these to keep her looking at him like that. “So much. Are there more?”

“A ton,” he assures her. Her smile only gets brighter as she braces herself against the rail.

“So, Catwoman’s Whip next?”

“No, no. That’s fast but there’s not much to it.” He chucks his chin out across the park, toward the general direction of South End. “We’re going all the way across the park. The Dark Knight.”

“When’s Mind Eraser?” Kiki leans over his shoulder, squinting at the map he’s pulled from his pocket. “That one’s good. Lots of loops.”

“Right after.” He points to the red track sandwiched between the Superman and Batman’s peaks. “It’s just around the corner once we’re off. Then I thought we might run across to Goliath, and--”

“Hey.” Mitsuhide frowns up the ramp, hands on his hips. “Have any of you seen Obi?”

Zen blinks, folding the map back into his pocket. “I thought he was right behind you guys.”

That thoughtful frown deepens. “He was. But then I turned around and--”

“There.” Kiki nods up to the land landing. “Fashionably late, I see.”

Obi glances up, tucking something in his pocket. “Yeah, I like to keep up the suspense. So chief, where to?”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #The Wide Florida Bay #my fic #modern au #college au #ans #okay caveat here if m&b is set in dec 2016 then this is like jul 2014 #and thus superman is actually the bizarro but like #i went for keeping the ride still there with their current names #because i know i love to guide myself with fics sometimes if i'm in areas where they take place #i actually HAVE a map from 2016 which i've been referring to and i feel like that's finnicky enough #we're sort of at the point where the years on this are a guideline rather than a rule since i am DEFINITELY not keeping track #of obi's meme usage and never will #SO IT IS WHAT IT IS #and i'm pretty sure no one will care but me but in case someone DOES #it's artistic license #also that dunkies is real and it is the perfect place to get your hot drinks #so you can finish them on the walk to the ticketing booths #we usually would go in october for the spooktacular and also for like. not being stupid hot reasons #and you gotta go EARLY if you wanna do rides #so we learned early and often where the perfect dunkins locations were #we have the same thing going to our state ren faire #it's a THING

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

Obiyuki Winter Challenge 2023 Masterpost

Once again, we have reached the end of another winter challenge! Thank you to everyone who joined us for ringing in the new year; over the three days of posting, we collected 18 total submissions!

Stay tuned– starting tonight we have will be officially kicking off our spring challenge prep, a fan favorite! And in another week or two we’ll be putting up an interest post for our next winter challenge...a new challenge type for us, that will involve participant cooperation!

[Submissions by creator under the cut]

@batgirlsay

Aesthetics of Winter Nights

Songs 1 & 2 Lyric Breakdown

Songs 3 & 4 Lyric Breakdown

Songs 5 & 6 Lyric Breakdown

Songs 7, 8 & 9 Lyric Breakdown

@ccprovolomies

Measure the Rests

@claudeng80

Between Your Teeth, The Taste of Wanting Dearest Reader, Chapter 6 North Sea Storm (The Aerial Corps)

@jhalya

Lightning in a bottle, Chapter 4

@randowwriter​

Almost Like A Home (Or Even A Marketplace) Emotional Danger Here With You (In The Quietest Room Of This Castle)

@ruleofexception​

Aura, Chapter 6 Aura, Chapter 7

@sabraeal​

Cat Out of the Bag (Wide Florida Bay) Keeping Up With the Joneses, Chapter 2

@what-plant-metaphor-am-i​

Pillow Talk, Part 2

#guiltyobiyuki23 #obiyuki #shiraobi #Obi x Shirayuki #Akagami no Shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #masterpost

[grimgrinningghost456]

Hey, guys. I wanted to just take a moment to talk about how racial inequalities can affect education opportunities and the mental state of college students here in Florida. One of the many nicknames we have for our country is The Land of Opportunity, yet there are students who struggle to gain their opportunity, even if they’re born in America. Their struggles don’t always stem from financial issues. What is sometimes overlooked is that in school, students of different races are easily picked on or are overlooked out of bias and even racism.

A potent example of an obstacle for students is the lack of DEI since May 2023. According to the College of Arts and Sciences Dean Advisor, Tangela Serls, "‘Students won’t be prepared to perform in a global society. They will be less informed, less empathetic, and less appreciative of differences across humanity." With fellow students less informed, future generations will be less empathetic to others who are different as time moves forward.This can also increase social anxiety to students who fall into different minority group. This could lead to isolation and depression when people feel like they’re being ostracized by their peers. Not only that, but DEI also helped students with their education. Not just socially, but academically as well. According to DEI Bans at Colleges: What Students Should Know, "‘DEI is for students with disabilities, veterans with PTSD, minority students, and students who are New Americans who may need extra help due to language or cultural barriers,’ Laura Lanese, President and CEO of the Inter-University Council of Ohio, an educational association of Ohio’s public universities, wrote in an open letter in May." Without the paid support for those who are either learning, or don’t speak English as a first language no longer have the needed assistance to complete their assignments, which could lead to added stress financially as well as emotionally.

With every problem comes a solution. At HCC (Hillsborough Community College), Students are provided with the tools they need in order to help themselves get on track educationally, mentally, and emotionally through the help of Baycare. Baycare is a Mental Health center fully payed by Hillsborough Community College on all campuses. This help center also has Student-Counselor confidentiality. Baycare has a non-discrimination policy, having a plethora of languages for the student in need to select. With the language options on Baycare’s website, people can feel like they’re number one priority to the Center, and feel more included as a student of Hillsborough Community College. In Additon to Baycare, HCC has Counsilors available to tend to Students' needs while on campus, including mental health care or social issues that may be occurring. There is also the option for Students who witness their peers' mental health declining to take their distressed friend to an advisor. It's important as a Communtiy to be aware of issues that may not affect us directly. Those with friends of different race can take initiative to listen out for phrases that can be ill-perceived. It's also important to pay attention to how our peers and classmates behave. We never know who may need a helping hand to heal.

Thanks for listening! Reblogs and comments/thoughts are appreciated as always. Links to the References are under the cut.

References:

Access to Education: The Impact of Inequality on Education:

Challenges Students Face:

Bay-care:

DEI Bans at Colleges: What Students Should Know:

https://www.usnews.com/education/best-colleges/articles/dei-bans-at-colleges-what-students-should-know

#froggy croaks #froggy vs the world #important #any questions or reblogs to help spread the word is appreciated #College #racial inequality

[writingquestionsanswered]

hi wqa I need ur help!

I want to write how my characters travel from place to place in search of an object, sailing through different places etc. my problem is with the geography bc I want the places they visit to differ greatly in culture and even races that u won’t find in the MCs home. idk if I should make different countries/continents for each or if making them part of the same country but it’s really large works as well- but if they’re from the same country idk how to make it so the different locations don’t talk to or even interact with each other. i also want to make the characters go on boat for the most of it since it’s an important plot point but if I make it all too far a way I feel it’s too hard to build a map cuz itd just be chunks of land spread everywhere :(

Pls help :(((

and thank u

Character Exposed to New Cultures on Boat Journey

So, I just want to clarify... different cultures don't have to be completely isolated from one another in order for your MC not to have been exposed to them.

Think about it... right now, there are very few cultures that are even somewhat isolated. People from different cultures travel, immigrate, are portrayed in media, meet friends on the internet... yet you probably haven't been exposed to 1/100th of the different cultures that are out there.

Cultures can exist largely within their own bubbles while still interacting with other cultures. Interaction with other cultures doesn't mean the cultures melt together.

Also, distance does matter. In the year 1000, the Timicua of Florida's west coast would never have known about or interacted with the Norse Vikings who arrived at that time in Newfoundland and briefly settled the village of L'Anse aux Meadows. Both were probably unaware of the Toltec culture in Mexico, even though the Timicuas and Toltecs were only separated by the Gulf of Mexico and a few hundred land miles. All three of these cultures were certainly unaware of the Dorset Culture, the Paleo-Eskimo descendant group living at that time in what is now Nunavut, Canada. These cultures never interacted because the distance and geography between them was too great, and because none of them happened to get on a boat and sail to where the other was.

So, my point is, all of these cultures can be on one continent in your story. And the distance between them doesn't even have to be that huge. Cultures separated by great distances usually only traded or interacted if they were seafaring, connected by a waterway (such as a lake or river), or part of a larger trade network. You don't have to connect the cultures in your story in that way if you don't want to. You might actually have some of those cultures connected to each other, creating smaller trade/interaction networks that just don't reach as far as where your character is from.

You can also look to geography for help. Cultures can be cut off from other cultures for lots of reasons. They could be on an island or island chain that they don't leave. They could be cut off by a treacherous mountain range. They could be in a lush mountain valley surrounded by harsh desert. They could be on a peninsula or archipelago made temperate by a warm ocean current, but bordered in the north by a thousand miles of snow and ice.

Finally, there are some cultures who choose to keep the outside world at bay. They choose not to trade with or interact with other cultures, and protect a wide buffer zone between them and outsiders to keep their culture untouched.

Ideally, you'll probably want to choose a different reason for each culture they encounter. Some are isolated by choice, some due to distance and lack of interest or ability to traverse that distance, some due to geographical restrictions.

I hope that helps!

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[ausetkmt]

Tampa Bay Times: Florida history lesson: Slavery as an unpaid internship? | Editorial

Should American slavery be considered an unpaid internship of sorts? That’s absurd and offensive, but it’s not an outrageous question, given Florida classroom guidelines adopted this week by the State Board of Education. We wish we were kidding.

The guidelines of the new “African American History Strand” say that classroom instruction should include ”how slaves developed skills which, in some instances, could be applied for their personal benefit.”

It’s just one phrase, but given the political climate in Florida, skeptics are closely monitoring every sentence, wondering why it’s in the guidelines about teaching African American history and worrying how slavery’s full story will be taught in Florida’s classrooms. And they should. The GOP leadership of the state has brought such scrutiny upon itself, and the level of trust is low.

The guidelines also say that teachers’ lessons should “examine the various duties and trades performed by slaves (e.g., agricultural work, painting, carpentry, tailoring, domestic service, blacksmithing, transportation).”

Fair enough. Some slaves did, in fact, perform trades and learn skills. But these guidelines de-emphasize the back-breaking, life-shortening fieldwork on the cotton, rice and sugar cane plantations as “agricultural work,” just one of many “trades.” In all cases, this was forced labor required of Black people who were enslaved. That should never be downplayed.

Trying to humanize slaves and showing school children that enslaved people had inner lives is important. But teaching students that enslaved people could acquire skills doesn’t really do that or help students explore anything about their hopes, their dreams or their fears. In fact, teaching that their skills could sometimes be “applied for their personal benefit” rather misses the point. It runs the risk of making slavery seem somehow more benign than it was.

Yes, some slaves were skilled artisans who could earn wages and buy a few things of their own. But they never owned their own bodies. They belonged to the slave master.

Think of the enslaved Sam Williams, a skilled ironworker in Virginia in the mid-19th century. When he surpassed the iron production quota required of him by his owner, he earned money that he used to buy his wife a pair of buckskin gloves, a shawl, a silk handkerchief and other presents for his four daughters, his mother and father. A valued and skilled artisan, he still never learned to read and write. He was a family man with a full life. But a slave.

Much good can come of teaching details and nuances of slavery, such as Mr. Williams’ story, discovered through ledgers kept by the iron forge where he worked. An accomplished teacher could bring a slave’s humanity alive. Think of Frederick Douglass, who was 20 years a slave and nine years a fugitive until English friends raised $711.66 to buy his freedom in 1845 after he was already a famous orator, author and abolitionist. As a boy, he had seen bloody whippings of fellow slaves. He was taught to read by a woman who inherited him and had never owned a slave before. He became a strong man who helped to build sailing ships. When he had the chance to escape, he took it. Though he had learned skills as a slave that could be “applied for (his) personal benefit,” the thing he wanted most was to be a free man. Widely considered the most photographed American of the 19th century, he never smiled in a portrait because he wanted to fight the popular myth of the “happy slave.” That’s why a single phrase in Florida’s educational guidelines can be so fraught. Sensitively used, “personal benefit” might help build a more complex picture of an enslaved person’s full life. But it could easily be seen as a ham-fisted attempt to minimize the horror of slavery.

The blowback against the new teaching standards has been fierce, including from the vice president of the United States. Supporters of the new guidelines are doubling-down in defense of them, which is exactly backward. They should instead be listening to the concerns and adapting to the legitimate worries of the critics. But this is the distrusting political and cultural climate in which we live. That’s too bad.

The real truth and what should be emphasized is that slavery was an abomination that was beyond redemption. That people built their riches on the backs of people they literally owned.

Even the slaveholder Thomas Jefferson called slavery a “hideous blot” and “moral depravity.” In an early draft of the Declaration of Independence, he blamed King George III for helping to perpetuate the transatlantic slave trade and wrote that in supporting slavery, the king “waged cruel war against nature itself.” Today, we’d call that a crime against humanity. Jefferson, the country’s third president, who fathered children with his own slave Sally Hemings, understood that slavery was an unalloyed, corrupting evil. Florida schoolchildren should, too.

#Florida history lesson: Slavery as an unpaid internship? #slavery as an internship #blood sweat and fears #white lies #white supremacy #reparations are due #florida #desantis lies #educational disinfranchisement #white education only

[killerandhealerqueen]

WIP Tag Game

Tagged by @hils79 to post a snippet of a current WIP <3

I've currently got five going on...and potentially a few others on the way, but we'll focus on the current five

药剂师日记 | The Apothecary Diaries - Killer and Healer

Jiang Yuelou smiled and shook his head.          “I’m only telling the truth” he replied before he looked over at Zining, Chu Ran, Zhong Yiren, and Liu Li and raised an eyebrow.          “Your ladies are in green instead of red…why is that?” he inquired.  Lady Gyokuyou smiled.           “Well, we didn’t want Dr. Chen to stand out too much if he was in a different color robe than them” she explained.  Jiang Yuelou hummed and nodded slowly.          “I see…speaking of Dr. Chen, where is he?” he inquired.          “I’m right here” a voice replied, making Jiang Yuelou turn to see Chen Yuzhi walking towards him, Lingli cradled in his arms.  At the sight of the young doctor, Jiang Yuelou’s eyes widened in shock; Chen Yuzhi looked simply stunning in the flowing dark green robes.  And as he got closer, Jiang Yuelou noticed that there was some simple shading around his eyes that made them pop and that his hair was styled in a half-up, half-down style instead of his usual high ponytail, making him look…softer.

Oil and Water - CSI: Miami

When they arrived at the scene, Horatio was already there, his gun drawn.          “H…” Eric started, making Horatio look over at them before he motioned to the house.          “Attacker may be inside.  Let’s go” he ordered.  Eric and Ryan nodded, both men quickly drawing their guns before they, along with Horatio, rushed into the house and looked around before they headed out back towards the pool, which was full of blood, all three men searching for any sign of the attacker, when Ryan noticed something on the ground.          “I got a blood trail” he called out before he took off after the trail, Horatio and Eric following him as they made their way out to the backyard, Ryan looking around before he rushed over to the drainage pipe that was sticking out of the wall and hopped up on it, searching the other side of the wall before he hopped back down and looked around, soon noticing something on the ground.          “Hey, check this out” he called out, making Eric and Horatio walk over to him and look down to see him holding up a piece of what looked like to be meat.          “What is that, some kind of meat?” Eric asked.  Horatio hummed.          “Looks like cut steak.  It could be bait” he mused, just as a hissing came from behind Ryan, making him turn and the others look up to see an alligator right behind him.          “Oh fuck!” Ryan exclaimed before he quickly jumped to his feet and rushed over to Eric, Eric wrapping his arms around him as Horatio fired a single shot into the alligator’s body, the alligator falling still.          “Nice shot” Ryan panted as Horatio huffed.          “Welcome to South Florida” he replied.

CSI: Jing City - Killer and Healer

After he ended the call with Liu Li, Jiang Yuelou sped towards Hell’s Bay, driving almost recklessly until he found a black jeep parked near an open lake.  At the sight of the jeep, he slowed his car to nearly a crawl just when he noticed a little boy sitting on a broken piece of dock.          “Jun” he whispered before he turned off the car and got out, closing the door behind him as he removed his gun from his holster and made his way towards the black jeep.          “Jun, stay right there.  I’m coming to get you” he called out, making Jun look at him with wide eyes.          “I’m scared” he called back, a tremor in his voice.  Jiang Yuelou shook his head as he looked inside the car.          “Don’t be scared” he assured before he turned back to look at Jun and smiled kindly.          “Just hang on, I’ll be right there” he promised.

恨君不似江楼月 | Killer and Healer - Killer and Healer

Meanwhile, back in Chen Yuzhi’s clinic, Chen Yuzhi helped Jiang Yuelou sit up before he sat down beside his bed and scooped some porridge into a spoon before he held it out to him.          “Here” he murmured, only for Jiang Yuelou to shake his head.          “I have no appetite” he stated, making Chen Yuzhi look at him before he lowered the spoon from his mouth and sighed.          “No matter what you’re going to do, you have to be adequately fed.  More preparation may quicken the speed of our investigation” he explained before he dipped the spoon back into the porridge and scooped some out, holding it out to Jiang Yuelou.          “Come” he instructed.  Jiang Yuelou nodded and opened his mouth but as soon as the spoon got close, he closed his mouth and shook his head.          “I really don’t have an appetite” he stated, making Chen Yuzhi sigh and place the bowl of porridge down before he looked at him.          “From the time you woke up to now, your face has been dark, and you look lost in thought.  Are you preoccupied by the case?” he asked gently.  At his question, Jiang Yuelou looked over at him with wide eyes; he really couldn’t hide anything from him, could he?

Wild Roses and Pretenders - Killer and Healer

Chen Yuzhi looked at him in surprise.          “A festival?” he repeated.  Jiang Yuelou nodded.          “Mm.  It’s a rather famous one…people from all over come to visit it.  I think you’ll enjoy it” he explained.  Chen Yuzhi hummed and thought about it for a moment before he nodded.          “Alright” he agreed, making Jiang Yuelou look at him in surprise.          “Wait, really?” he asked.  Chen Yuzhi nodded before he smiled.          “It sounds fun.  I look forward to it” he replied as Jiang Yuelou continued to look at him in surprise before his face softened and he hummed.          “Me too” he agreed.

Tagging: anyone who sees this and wants to play

#tag game #wip tag game #some of these snippets are from posted chapters #and some of these are from upcoming chapters