#night train weekend 2022

[jwood719]

Looking at the Old Railroads: Illinois Railway Museum, Labor Day 2022 -- “Night Train” weekend, with extended hours for viewing after 6 PM.

J. Neils Lumber No 5 getting underway with the caboose train.  A close look shows the drive shafts spinning as they transfer power from the cylinders to the wheels, something a moving picture is much better at depicting.

The shakes and stutters are due to a less-than-smooth zoom operation on the lens (the camera needs a good cleaning).

R. Jake Wood, 2022.

Illinois Railway Museum

#roadtrips #illinoisrailwaymuseum #night train weekend 2022 #video!

[prolix-yuy]

A Bearable Weight

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Summary: New Years Eve is the holiday of new beginnings, and you take a leap to see if Javi might be one of them.

Word Count: 3k

Story Warnings: T, plenty of sweetness, more ridiculousness because I can't help myself, some lightly spicy kisses. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ so MINORS DNI.

Notes: I had to get these two to New Years. They were just too cute to leave hanging. I hope each and every one of you reading this waves goodbye to anything that made your 2022 difficult and enters 2023 with open arms and excitement. Now let's see where the new year takes Javi and Conejita!

Cross-posted on AO3

The restaurant is smaller than you thought it might be, unassuming in a strip of businesses. The sign for it is understated, white lettering on a black rectangle with a thin gold border - Aperitif. You’ve been studying the sign, and the door below it, for well over ten minutes, the chill night air creeping up your bare legs. The new dress you bought for the occasion - black, tasteful but a little sexy, an amount you’re comfortable with - weaves around your knees when a breeze makes you shiver. You look down at your heels again, still torn between whether the glittery gold is too loud for your personality or loving that they make you feel festive. Your hair is styled, your makeup is perfect, everything is ready for you to go inside.

And you’re still rooted on the damn spot.

Javi texted you a few times since the first voice message. Every new phone alert made your heart jump, evolving to a flutter when it actually was from him. He sent you photos of his friends’ Christmas tree, their dog plopping her head in his lap, the snow outside a fogged up window. He also asked you things about yourself, some that you expected and others that made you stop and smile. 

What food will you eat if you’re having a bad day?

Best movies adapted from books?

Did your sister like the message?

Your sister did indeed, and after catching you grinning at your phone several times throughout the long weekend finally made you confess how you got it. Her elation over the serendipitous meeting was only eclipsed by your hesitation over seeing Javi again.

“Are you serious right now? Cute, funny, probably loaded, a dork, sweet, and definitely into you? I will drive you there and drop your ass on the sidewalk if you don’t do it yourself.”

So you accepted the invitation, which was accompanied by a string of excited texts filled with details and one that made you tingle from head to toe.

Thank you for accepting. I hope you will consider what I asked you in my first message. But only if you’re comfortable. I really like talking to you, no matter what.

A beat, then…

If you’d like to be mine, this year.

You did. Holy hell, you did. But you were also a classically trained overthinker, and the days leading up to New Years Eve were spent Googling and riding the rollercoaster of excitement and dread. The Gutierrez family had an online presence, and not all of it was good. Luckily it seemed like Javi wasn’t in the crosshairs, but the more you learned the more convinced you became that this was going to be a shitshow. Wealthy, influential, a lover of the arts and gorgeous in every photo you find, your hopes got buried a little deeper with each word.

He told you it was going to be a party, nothing large, but the idea of being in your department store dress among the elite of society made you want to cancel. Go out for coffee instead. Let yourself down gently when you realize how different your worlds are.

But then you find a voicemail - a missed call from Javi:

“Hi conejita, I hope all the texts have not been too much. I realize that you barely know me, and I am maybe moving a little too fast. I get…ah, well, I get excited. You have made me very excited, and I want to be, you know, ‘cool’ about it, but I am not so great at that. Anyways, I am…hah, yeah, excited to see you tomorrow. It will be a lot of fun. And, um…we don’t…I only want what you want, conejita. So let’s just…see where the night takes us. I know what I feel, but I…I only want you to…to know…agh! I am messing this all up. Sorry, this message is so long now. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m…I’m really happy to see you tomorrow. Okay, bye.”

What’s the harm, you thought after listening to the message three times. If it’s terrible you never have to see him again.

Another breeze ripples over your skin, finally making you move towards the door.

And if it’s amazing?

You smile to yourself and enter the warmth of the restaurant.

Aperitif looked small from the exterior, and the interior is about what you expected. It could maybe seat 30 fully booked, but the dining room has been cleared out in favor of buffet servers against the walls, the ivory bar lined with champagne glasses and eager bartenders shaking cocktails. The handful of people chatting inside don’t look like heiresses or oil barons. Your shoulders relax a fraction.

“Name?” the man at the door asks, a short list in his hand. You give yours and are ushered in, a drink immediately put in your hand and a string of metallic gold beads tossed over your head by a waitress.

“Happy New Year!” she says, taking your coat. You slip into the crowd looking for the only person you came here for - Javi. But his caramel curls and exuberant laugh haven’t reached you yet.

“I love what they’ve done with the decorations!” a cheery voice exclaims over your shoulder. You look around, then up to see a delicate web of black and gold streamers holding balloons precariously above you. One single streamer hangs to the floor behind the bar, which an olive-skinned hand points to. “I think at midnight they pull that.” You turn to see the woman speaking to you, and she’s...normal-looking. Peppy brunette with a sharply cut bob, sparkling brown eyes, and a glittery top with black slacks. Maybe you had nothing to worry about.

“That’s fun, I haven’t been out on New Years in ages,” you say, taking a sip of champagne. The bubbles tickle your tongue pleasantly. It’s good, much better than any champagne you’ve had at parties.

“Oh then you’ve come to the perfect place! Who invited you?” she asks, finishing off her glass and placing it on a waiter’s tray as it floats by. 

“Javi,” you say, a little shyly. He mentioned that he was hosting it, but you had no clue who the other guests were. How long could you keep up the facade?

“Of course! How do you know him? I’m a long-lost cousin myself, been out of the loop for a while, but it’s nice to see him again.” She waits expectantly, and if you didn’t feel like throwing up before you definitely do now.

“Uhhh, we met…on a flight…” you start to say, working through how the hell you were going to explain the circumstances of your meeting to a stranger, when her eyes light up.

“Oh my GOD, it’s you!” she gasps, grabbing on to both your shoulders. “Javi told me about the girl on the plane on his way here. That story, the way he tells it, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. And you’re here! Now! I have to find him, he’ll be so excited!” She squeezes your shoulders again with a little squeal before darting through the crowd, a nervous giggle smothered in your hand.

He told people about you. 

He told people about you in a way that made him sound happy.

You could burst, the light inside you is so expansive. 

You’re about to follow when a large palm circles your bicep, turning you gently around in the crowd.

“You came.”

Javi says it like a prayer, like he believed but never thought a miracle would grace him. His curls are swept back from his face in tantalizing waves. He’s in a gray blazer, a navy button-up with some abstract patterning hanging onto his broad chest for dear life. The top three buttons already gave up the fight, chest dewy with the humidity in the room. But it’s his face that melts your anxieties away. His eyes drape warmth over you, fondness in their depths that he only hinted at in his messages. His soft smile lashes your heart into a gallop, breaking into one of your own.

“Of course. How could I miss it?” you say, winking when his grin widens. He leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, hand spreading across your lower back. 

“I am so happy to see you, conejita,” he whispers, raising goosebumps along the nape of your neck. 

Oh, you’re in it deep now.

As the night continues more people file in, filling the small space with chattering conversation. You find the bubbly brunette again, who introduces herself as Julia, and get to talking about houseplant care and aggravations. She’s unpretentious, passionate, and makes you feel like you belong. Honestly, most of the people do. As the night wears on and you shake more hands and spark more conversations, it dawns on you why these people are all together tonight. This is Javi’s circle, people who understand him and bring him joy.

Bashful happiness that you might bring him joy settles in your chest.

Javi scoops you up every few minutes, guiding you to new groups or asking you if you’ve tried something. The upscale pigs in a blanket are your personal favorite, snagging a whole tray for yourself when a waiter walks by. You’re almost embarrassed, but Javi’s crinkled smile as he tries to steal one and gets his hand slapped is worth it.

A murmuring begins by the entrance, a flocking to the door. Javi comes to your elbow, leaning on one foot and placing his warm hand on your lower back. He’s been doing it to you all night, every time you stand beside him, but it’s never less thrilling.

“What’s that all about?” you ask, your third glass of champagne fizzing delightfully under your skin. He catches someone’s eye in the crowd, gesturing them over.

“Just a good friend who came to visit.”

You almost choke on your sip of bubbles.

“Nicolas. Fucking. Cage,” you scoff to Javi under your breath as the man himself emerges out of the crowd. He’s bee-lining your way but stops to shake hands and engage in polite conversation. His emerald velvet jacket contrasts the burgundy button-up underneath nicely, but the faded Dad jeans and white tennis shoes clash adorably with the ensemble. “You could have warned me!”

“Your reaction was well worth your annoyance,” Javi placates, pressing you forward as the crowd falls back.

“How are you doing Nic? How’s the family?” Javi asks, pulling the famous actor in for a hug. They give brief updates, you standing back a step awkwardly. Debating on slipping away, Javi introduces you to Nic and pulls you back into the conversation.

“The girl on the plane,” Nic says, and if you ever thought his speaking affect was fake you’re certain now it’s genuine. He takes your hand in both of his, shaking it earnestly. “I heard your sister is a big fan. I hope she liked the message, I know it was a little rushed but, last minute on the holidays, you know…” You shake your head, fighting back your sister’s scream in the back of your mind.

“She was over the moon. Thank you again for doing that, it was very kind of you,” you say, trading a secret smirk with Javi. It’s a harmless lie, but the fact that he’s perpetuating it makes you even giddier.

“Well next time you’re at one of Javi’s parties you should bring her. I love meeting fans,” Nic says, giving you a pat on the shoulder and peeling off to get himself a drink. Javi slides back to your side, the laughter you’d been suppressing squeaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Clara’s gonna die. I’ll have to lie to her to get her in the same room as Nic,” you sputter, leaning into Javi’s side as he puts an arm around your shoulders. Frenetic energy dissipating, you savor the solid breadth of his chest, that delicious citrus bite of his scent. He holds you there, and after a moment his cheek presses against the side of your head. He inhales, your face burning when you realize he’s smelling you. 

“That’s it, you’re a wizard or something. No one can grant as many wishes as you,” you tease, twisting to look into Javi’s face. The crows feet and wrinkles smooth as he looks at you, eyes darting from your own to your lips and back again. “Thank you,” you finally say, letting him slide his arm down to pull you into his chest.

“It is I who should be thanking you, conejita. I’ve been living a full life, a better life in recent times, but it feels that much brighter when you’re close to me.” His touch is hesitant when his fingers graze your jaw, his hold loosening on your back. It’s all broadcasting only what you want. He would chase you if you let him, though if you stepped away now he’d let you. But in those touches are the longing to be more than acquaintances. And in this room you thought you’d never belong in, you feel safe, and seen.

Over the chatter and laughter swirling past, you talk. About Javi’s life, and your own. Your work and what you love to do. His love of movies, your love of old houses and national parks. Your mutual dislike of overused CGI elements and predictable jumpscares. He strokes your back, your arm, as you speak, sometimes needing to break away to say hello or answer a question, but unfailingly coming back to you. 

As the final minutes near, you voice the question burning in the back of your mind.

“Javi, you’re so…” you gesture at this posh, gorgeous man standing beside you. “You’re so far out of my league I can’t even see you. And I know I’m a catch,” you interject, gesturing at yourself now with amusement. “I’m a snack, I’m a whole meal, I don’t deny it. But I’m more like…Applebees than Wolfgang Puck.” You wave your hands, banishing the jumble away. “I guess I just don’t understand why…me. Here. Tonight.”

Javi’s brow furrows, his mouth tightening into a pout as he casts his gaze down. Waiting is torture, needing to know if this is just a little thank-you or something more. 

“One minute!” someone shouts, the excitement in the room ratcheting up another series of degrees as everyone gathers in the center of the restaurant. Javi leads you to the middle, the throng of people parting enough to give you some space inside it. Once your feet stop, he sweeps you into another embrace, this one firmer. His eyes roam your face, searching for something before he speaks. 

“As much as I love the old movies, I do not believe in love at first sight. I believe in attraction, and common interests, and support. I believe in two people finding each other in the most unusual way and taking it as a sign. And when the universe gives you another chance and it only makes you want that person more, well…” Javi trails off, one hand coming up to curl around your head, his thumb stroking the hinge of your parted jaw. Your eyes must be hopeful because he barrels on.

“Well, I am not one to overlook lightning striking twice. And you are…you are not an…apple bee?” he asks, confusion twisting the words. You shake your head and pat his chest.

“It’s a, like, chain restaurant. Sorry, doesn’t make a lot of sense if you haven’t heard of it,” you murmur, stroking a finger along his lapel. 

“But that’s just it, because I don’t agree with that. You are so much more than I wished. I feel like…not like a puzzle, but like…two rivers meeting. Both strong on their own, but together, mingled, are in harmony.”

“Okay everyone, get ready, on ten!”

“Javi, what are you…”

“Nine!”

“I want more of this, conejita. I want more of you. If you’ll have me too.”

“Eight!”

“I…do, but I just…it…it feels so…complicated.”

“Seven!”

“We do not need all of the answers now. Just one.”

“Six!”

“Which one is that?”

“Five!”

“Will you let me kiss you tomorrow?”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Yes, Javi.”

The restaurant erupts in cheers of “Happy New Year!” as people hug and kiss and celebrate. One of the waiters pulls the crepe paper cord and balloons tumble from the ceiling, packets of foil confetti dumping and exploding over the crowd. If you were paying attention you’d laugh, reach your hands up to the ceiling and try to catch handfuls of the glittering shower, but you’re preoccupied with Javi’s gentle smile before he pulls your lips to his.

If this kiss was a precursor to how your next year would go, magical might be a good descriptor. Or explosive. Swoon-worthy maybe. But perfect might be the best. Javi’s first chaste press is followed by deeper kisses, his full lips covering your own with quiet little pants. When he pulls back enough to see your kiss-drunk face his whole demeanor lights up, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you through the crowd.

Once tucked away on a bench in the back of the restaurant, he proceeds to kiss you with more fervor, tongue slipping against yours tentatively. He only interrupts the worshipful makeout with touches to your face like he still can’t believe you’re here. Covering his hands with your own, you tilt your head to one side.

“I feel like this is going to be a very good year.”

Javi’s sweet smile turns just a fraction devilish, and your heart flutters with it.

“Better than I could have wished for."

END

Part 3: A Gift of Light and Joy

#javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi g x reader #javi g x f!reader #prolix fics

[royal-ruin]

f1 fanfic recs charles/carlos (charlos) part 4

other f1 fic rec lists here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise

in honor of carlos' win in the ausgp and his appendix removal (and his last year at ferrari, ignore me sobbing in the background), here are some of my fav fics of them.

if all of them are starred that just means they're all amazing.

i'll make you laugh by venerat (~7k)

[“You are cute,” says Carlos, waving his marker in emphasis. “Obviously. I am always saying this.”

“I am not cute.” Charles blinks at him. “When are you saying I am cute?”]

literally so adorable.

*what we felt by venerat (~14k)

[Imprinted, Charles should say, shocked. I hope he is alright. He should say that.

“My god,” he says instead. “On who?”]

so creative and amazing. def check out this author for more of other pairings, i know they have a bunch of hot smutty one-shots if you're into that.

*sweet tea in the summer by bloodmoonforme (~10k)

[Sometimes, when they first arrive at the circuit for a weekend, Charles will look decidedly paler, a little drawn. Then, he'll show up for FP1 on Friday seemingly much better all of the sudden, eyes unnaturally bright and cheeks red - that's how to tell how long it has been since he last drank.

Not that Carlos notices. Or keeps track of it, for that matter.

Except he does.]

Or the one where Charles is a vampire and Carlos struggles.

i don't remember this unfortunately, but i do remember loving it.

*the actor says he hates himself by bloodmoonforme (~5k)

[“You okay, mate?” Carlos asks, pitching his voice a bit louder in order to be heard over the music.

Charles doesn’t answer. Slowly, Carlos realizes that the way Charles is staring is one that he recognizes. It’s the same way he looks while he’s out racing, the same one he wears in the simulator. It’s a look of total focus. There’s something Charles wants and means to have.]

tags say that there's cheating so if you don't like that, don't read.

*dice che ti ama (ma lo sai che mente) by choripan (~3k)

[But Charles smiled, dimples out and about, back against the wall of Carlos’ driver’s room. Like he knew he wasn’t in danger.

Like he hadn’t entered a lions’ den looking like a three course meal.

(Like he knew Carlos was all bark and no bite, and toying with the metaphorical rubber band —stretch, stretch, stretching—wouldn’t ever make it snap into his straight nose.)]

kinda like a carlos-focused relationship study. it lowkey altered my brain chemistry for some reason

punctuated all wrong by Cloudcollector (~8k)

Prompt: "I don’t know if someone else agrees with me but I’m a sucker for the whole person A falls in love with person B but they think they don’t deserve person B’s love trope and I’d love to see how it would play out with charlos (not saying who’s person A and who person B, even though that should be pretty obvious)"

*the trials of 2022 by chiliconcarlos (~34k)

A partial summary of the 2022 season, as told by Charles or Carlos, following each race.

Friday is Just the Beginning by nottonyharrison (~3k)

On a Thursday in December, Caco had come to him with a proposal. A PDF attached to an email, emblazoned with the garish red Netflix logo, and consisting of a three paragraph, succinct concept that involved winter training, the mountains, and Carlos timing his schedule to overlap with Charles’ for a week.

On a Friday in January, he’s sitting in a private sauna long after the cameras have been packed away for the night, with Charles right next to him.

this is basically plot w porn, with a lot of carlos inner monologue which i love so enjoy!

Don't Do This To Me by pastrnaks_sainz (~2k)

[Carlos hands shake as he stares at his phone screen. The email from Caco is displayed and the brightness is turned all the way up. Like he’s being taunted. The big bold letters in the subject line might as well be saying ‘NOBODY WANTS YOU’ instead of ‘New Opportunities Ahead’.]

fair warning, one of the tags is hurt no comfort.

Loose Lips Sink Ships by kxleida (~2k)

Carlos finds out he's leaving Ferrari. Charles finds him in his hotel room, beer bottles scattered all across. They both know it's not fair.

A bit of hurt/comfort surrounding Charles, Carlos, and the Ferrari announcement for the F1 2024 silly season.

this isn't everything you are by shadil (~2k)

The news hit him again where he least expects it.

a prayer for which no words exist by transbrucewayne (~3k)

Charles has to assume Carlos knows by now; they should’ve told him. He doesn’t know how long they took to tell Sebastian, but it had been almost inevitable for him. He walked into the 2020 season with an air of resignation. With Carlos…everyone thought he was going to get another year, at least. Charles thought he was going to get another year. Then, Carlos would move to Audi, to the surprise of approximately no one, and the two of them would part, and Charles would spend the rest of his career smiling at him across the room, fist bumping him in press conferences, and never touching him more than the others deemed appropriate.

i know better (but you're still around) by shadil (~2k)

Sometimes, Carlos dreams about María.

He was his (but also he was not) by f1amboyant (~2k)

[Charles crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you leaving?” he asked, no bullshit, staring straight at Carlos, peering into his soul.]

Shadowhunters AU

and the world was gone by Bluejay141519 (~12k)

It’s not entirely unfounded, having something like this happen. Charles knows of various stories of the past, where different drivers’ energies don’t mix well and it causes chaos. He’s even heard of magic being used to sabotage in F1.

Charles always thought these were just stories, until he got his seat.

tbh it's not completely relationship focused, but it's still amazing.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic rec #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #charles x carlos #carlos x charles #cl16 #cs55 #fic rec list

[kingofthering]

Carc Primer : come meet the Spanish boyfriends

Marc Marquez, MotoGP rider. Carlos Sainz, F1 driver. Two Spaniards of the same generation who were brought together by various circumstances and who are now very good friends, as demonstrated below.

NATIONAL SPORTS AWARDS 2015

Oldest photos of them I could find are from the 17th of November 2015 when they attended the National Sports Awards in Madrid.

HONDA / RED BULL

Marc has spent his whole carreer with Honda. Carlos was a RB junior driver and then drove for Toro Rosso up until 2017. I couldn't find more content than what you have right after (from pre-season 2016, you can see more pictures here).

ESTRELLA GALICIA

The Estrella Galicia 0,0 Youtube channel is a gift. They had Carlos and Marc in the same commercial but separately in July of 2015 (video) and June of 2016 (video).

We can see them on screen at the same time on this video from March of 2017.

In 2018, they shot this beautiful thing.

(gifs source by @rookie-ofthe-year)

In July of 2021, they shot a video for the Artesanos del paddock series of videos.

In November of 2021, they were both involved in some promo stuff for the 5th season of La Casa de Papel. Here you have some backstage thing.

In December of 2022, Estrella Galicia made them visit MEGA (the EG museum) and they looked very boyfriends while doing it (video).

(gifs source by @c2-eh)

They interviewed each other (video in English - video in Spanish). They talked about how Carlos should try a motoGP bike one day (the way Marc says "claro que te gustaria" lives rent free in my mind).

They filmed a "this or that" video that Carlos published for Marc's Birthday (video). It has Marc saying "you guard it [my beer] and I dance" and the two of them challenging each other to a race (we're still waiting).

EG also made them pour beers (video) and we had some intense heart eyes action from Marc.

(gifs source by @c2-eh)

You can find more pictures from that day here, the "then and now" insta reel here. They also did some VR stuff, with Marc inadvertedly grabbing Carlos' hand (pictures & video).

In January of 2023, EG released a commercial for their new 0,0 beer with them (insta reel) and you can see Marc handing the beers to Carlos saying "you're stronger" and after Carlos struggles to understand the mechanism, Marc has to take the beers from him (saying that the guys from motoGP are stronger).

MADRID

In early 2022, Marc (and his brother Alex) moved to Madrid. Carlos helped him, he said : "Since I found out he was coming to live in Madrid, I tried to help him adapt himself and feel as comfortable as possible in my hometown [...] I don't live in Madrid anymore, but I go back there every weekend and try to meet him. We met twice for dinner, I have shown him the gym where I train, he is also training there now, and we have a lot of contact." (article)

They indeed trained together earlier this year, with the following photos from January 2023 (insta post).

During the World Cup, on the 1st of December 2022, they watched the Spain - Japan game together with friends (and made a joint insta post for their selfies).

You can find a group picture of that night here. And now, very important things to witness : Carlos feeding Marc omelet from his fork and playing the plane game with him (video) and the two of them discussing while Marc is seating at Carlos' feet in a very babygirl fashion (video). The scenes are from All In (Marc's Prime Video documentary), you can see Carlos in episode 5.

(gifs source by me)

INSTAGRAM

You can find them in each other's comments (for example here or here). Here you have Carlos filming Marc while he was sleeping in early 2017.

Also, this is Carlos wishing Marc a Happy Birthday in 2021 (here) via EG. And Marc was watching the Bahrain GP (2023) and I'm making it count as Carlos support (photo here).

OTHER

I couldn't find out where this was from but have some leather jacket Carlos.

And then, something that might be EG related but I'm not sure so we're putting it here. An event at the Barcelona Grand Prix in 2019 with Marc's brother and Carlos' dad. More photos here.

In March of 2023, Ignacio Rivera, president of Estrella Galicia, talked about Marc & Carlos in an interview. It’s pretty interesting and I will just highlight one quote (translated to the best of my abilities) :

But it’s sure that the understanding between the two was building while they were participating to events and publicity campaigns together. There, you could see how they supported each other and competively provoked each other. It’s fantastic for us to do sponsor activities with the two because you can immediately perceive their affinity.

FANDOM CONTENT

This is where I do promo for myself and my friends. I've written a couple of fics for them, you can find them on my AO3 (one, two, short stories). @c2-eh also wrote a very beautiful and very hot fic for them and @backwardscapcarlos makes the best moodboards.

I also made a dedicated gifset for them, which you can find here.

We're all obviously looking forward to more content so please join us in the Carc madness.

#marc marquez #carlos sainz #primer #5593 #this is my first primer and i'm sure i've forgotten stuff #i hope this was useful #i'm truly dying for more carc content

[mrsackermannx]

FABLE’S MASTERLIST

series started (06-08-21) wc: 113.5k chapters: 19/24

back to main masterlist AO3 VERSION

commission by @catyypss

"People worship old buildings, and people love to explore them. Nothing and no one stays the same. If you think I'd have the younger you. The less scarred you, the you that hadn't lived and loved as fiercely as you have now…”

Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Reader

Description: Chapter 139/ Season 4 Part 3 Spoilers. There's no other place you saw yourself after the Battle of Heaven and Earth, than his side.

Content Warnings/ Tags: Mental Health (Depression, PTSD),

Trauma, Major Character Death Mentions, Grief, Comfort, Minor Canon Divergences, Slice of Life, Fluff, Blissful Domesticity, Angst, Mutual Pining + Longing, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Post-war Levi, Soulmates, Established Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Idiots in Love, Drunken Shenanigans, Doting on Levi, Switch Levi, Switch Reader, Romantic Soulmates, Possessive Behaviour, Doting on Levi, Soft Dom Levi, Loss of Virginity.

Chapter 0: Prelude (06/08/21)

As the battle ends, you and Levi are now faced with the rest of your lives.

Chapter 1: The Letter (06/08/21)

Your peace with Levi is disrupted when an old wound is reopened, forcing you to think about not just the past but the future as well.

Chapter 2: To you (13/08/21)

You have a bittersweet epiphany.

Chapter 3: Care (13/08/21)

Levi helps you practise some self care, with a treat in mind to help uplift your mood.

Chapter 4: 'This is why you shouldn't have wine.' (20/08/2021)

Levi takes you to dinner, and after countless sips of wine, you both loosen up...

Chapter 5: 'Hard boiled?' (27/08/2021)

You're gifted something you cannot wait to share with Levi... maybe dreams can come true after all.

Chapter 6: Highs and lows. (03/09/2021)

You and Levi go out on an adventurous day trip before the weekend ends, and the real planning begins.

Chapter 7: The mysterious Ackerman man (11/09/2021)

A glimpse into Levi's 'inner world'?

Chapter 8: The power of jealousy. (21/09/2021)

How powerful is jealousy?

Chapter 9: Husband. (05/10/2021)

How long will you wait?

Chapter 10: Where are you? (17/10/2021)

Levi's all at once, left alone. But what about you? Where are you? Are you alone too?

Chapter 11: I'm military trained! (24/10/2021)

Levi is finally coming to terms with his feelings.

Chapter 12: White Paws. (1/11/2021)

The beauty of change.

Chapter 13: That was chaos. (14/11/2021)

The cadets navigate through some issues, while you and Levi move forwards, with no intentions of turning back.

Chapter 14: Almost. (26/11/2021)

You're both ready, almost ready?

Chapter 15: Massage man. (26/12/2021)

There's definitely something you and Levi are forgetting? But you're more in tune than you've ever been.

Chapter 16: Finally... (23/01/2022)

What is love? What is sex? What does it all mean?

Chapter 17: We're making love. (23/09/2022)

You and Levi spend the night physically affirming your love.

Chapter 18: Sweet, sweet ‘filthy’ love. (27/01/2023) NEW

Amongst struggling to keep your hands off one another, you and Levi organise a leaving party for the ex-cadets.

mrsackermanx2023© all writing works are my own, do not repost, steal or translate my work.

#lourdes navigates! #fable’s masterlist #mrsackermannx’s fable #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x reader fanfic #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #navi #postwar levi #post canon levi ackerman #levi x reader romance

[kanmom51]

BTS Interviews Masterlist

150505 bts Super Junior’s Kiss The Radio

150629 Park Sohyun Love Game Radio  

Jimin likes JK radio interview

J-14 2017 interview - Jikook

2017 Entertainment tonight interview - RM: “…we don’t have bf or gf…”

Access Hollywood interview 2018

Access Hollywood interview May 2018 again

BTS interview with People TV 18 May 2018

BTS ask anything iv 2018 - what the hell was JM doing?

BTS billboard award Zach Sang interview

BTS 2019 2020 interviews with Skye - BTS being uncomfortable

Iheart radio interview 2020 - what’s going on with JK?

JM’s “I was with JK” at 4 am

Jikook being together at 4 am - what makes it more  

MBC radio interview 14 September 2020

BE launch interviews

BBC Radio 1 2021 interview

Billboard interview 2021

Quiz on the block March 2021

BTS on nightline  

Jikook 2022 weekend interview

Jikook 2022 weekend interview more

Good night interview - Jungkook

Good night interview - Jimin

Melon Proof spotlight 

6 Jan 2019 BTS backstage interview at the GDA (WRONG LINK)

BTS Sweet party Harajuku - what JK likes about JM...

When JM is obvious    

One of those JM staring at JK moments

Jikook what are you doing?

JK being pretty comfortable with JM  

Starry eyed JK

So, what did we have?  

BTS 5 years Seoul tourism ambassadors

12 July 2017 Wings Japan tour documentary.

Can someone please explain to me what exactly JM is doing there???

the Wings Japan tour documentary

Careful JM your heart is showing

JK’s nose boop mission 2018 and the repercussions (?)

JK’s reaction to JM sneezing

JK’s sky and people

JK malfunctioning June 2015?

BTS 77Q 77A interview

BTS message on DisneyPlusHotstar

Can we please look at Jungkook’s “JIMIN TV interview”  

3 significant interview moments

James Corden

OMG!

Late late show announcement

The massage train

And this happened too

JC touching JM - too much?

What you looking at JK?

#BTS interviews #Jikook interviews #Masterlist #Interviews masterlist #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JK #JM #Jikook masterlist #Kanmom Masterlist

[slowestlap]

Valtteri Bottas was part of a Finnish tv show called "Yökylässä" (sleepover) where the host goes to visit Finnish celebrities and spends two days and one night in their home. This episode aired on February 2nd, 2023 and was filmed at some point in 2022.

Below I give context to the screenshots and have also translated some interesting bits:

1st row: Just some cute random VB photos to start with

2nd row: He really loves gin, first two photos are from his main apartment and right photo is from his weekend house. It simply was too many bottles to fit into one shot (no pun)

3rd row: And here we have him making gin tonic using his own gin brand. The obligatory helmet wall (there was another one as well). He's had this Ferrari for a few months, says blue is his favorite color. He'd have wanted to drive the host around with it but the battery had run out so they went with his red Alfa Romeo SUV

4th row: That's his weekend house near the main apartment but outside the city center. An artist in Monaco offered to make art work (something funny) for him and this is what they received. The framed a$$ photo is in the guest bathroom of the weekend house. They sold 5400 pcs of prints of it in 24h and got 50k€ for charity

5th row: They face timed Mika. He (grinningly) says the only advise he can give to Valtteri is "to break later". Just some absolute mint slippers he was wearing when they brushed teeth. That's his boat which is called "Rehab" but "it's almost the opposite (when you go there)". They rent it for others too, a full day is ~5k€

Other stuff i decided to highlight:

There's 3 or 4 feral cats around the weekend house that they'll give food to

The most important trophies are in Finland, the one from his first win is the most special

"It's hard to find apartments that you like to stay in (in Monaco), the prices are crazy expensive and quality is quite bad and they're old"

He pays 9500 € rent per month for his apartment

He wouldn't say how much the weekend house cost

The main reason for moving to Monaco was the taxes. He's calculated that in Finland his net income would be ~20 % of all of his gross income. In Monaco it's 60-70% after his expenses (like managers etc.) At the beginning of his career when things were unsure he thought it's important to try to make as much money as possible, after all the hard work he had put into becoming an F1 driver

He doesn't enojy fame and would rather be unknown but he understands it's part of being in F1 and he'd do anything to be able to live his childhood dream

He drove a kart for the first time as 5yo, jumped out of it and told everyone he'll become an F1 driver

Mika Häkkinen was his idol as a kid. It was a wow moment when he got a call from an unkonwn number in 2007 and it was Mika who wanted to help him in his career

He handles his finances/contracts by himself because it's hard to give someone else control over those things. Also mentions he doesn't like to be a passenger in a car because he's not in control of it

He only goes to social media to post things he wants to share, he doesn't read any comments or dm's

Tiffany does read some comments and said there's now less hateful comments towards Valtteri compared to how much there was when he drove for Merc

He hasn't really been single, after his break ups he's fallen in love quickly again. "It's nice to have a life partner"

Weight mentions ahaed! He talks a bit about the same stuff he mentioned in his podcast last year; he trained himself sick (around 2014). He was having really unhealthy training and eating habits and hid things from his trainer. He thought at the time that was what he should do. "If your team tells you to weight a certain amount, you'll do it". He then talked to a psychologist who said at first he was behaving like a robot without emotions but after that he started to work on getting healthier habits back

Host: "Do you talk about mental health related issues with your colleagues?" - "Not really, it still isn't a common subject to talk about. Even though maybe we should, I'm not the only guy who sometimes struggles".

Host: "How was it when you were the second driver for years?" - "Quite tough. It was so hard to accept but now I've made peace with it that Lewis was a better driver than me. After last year (2021) I admitted to myself that that's just how it goes sometimes." "Did you use to be bitter and jealous?" - "Yes, especially the first couple of years. I didn't hate him, we had a good partnership but I always thought how can I beat him and be better than him and win the championship. But it was tough 5 years. I shouldn't have been as harsh to myself."

He pays the private jet company he uses extra amount of money, enough to compensate the environmental impact. They went to his boat and he said he will compensate the costs too

He mentions that sometimes in the places they travel to it's better to keep quiet and lay low than to speak up about the issues within the country. He does say that in Saudi (2022, after the missile) the drivers decided to not drive but they were guaranteed it's safe to do so and that there's heavy security around the track. "Show must go on" and they weren't really given an option other than to drive. Formula 1 goes to places that pay the most.

Host: "The only thing missing from your life is F1 championship, is that so?" - "Yes."

#valtteri bottas #alfa romeo #ok first of all deal with the black borders #i was too lazy to crop them after watching this thing twice (it was 1h long) #and translating #anyways!! he really does seem like such a genuine down to earth dude #there were more shots of his apartments but idk i feel uncomfy posting them even tho the cameras were literally there #hopefully this is enough to show the vibes #as i felt it's my finnish duty to post about since i didn't see anyone else talking about this 🙈 #hope the vb fans will see this #f1 #alcohol tw

[this-daydream-is-dangerous-13]

Daylight MV by Harry Styles - why was it not the unreleased Two Ghosts MV 2.0? A timeline.

This video, released on July 19, 2023, is jam packed with Blondie and Haylor references. I think it was almost the sister project to the never released Two Ghosts MV…until it wasn’t. And I have an idea as to why.

Don’t believe me that it’s Haylor AF? Go read this amazing summary by @womanexile at whose request I am writing this timeline.

As we know, Harry was filming the video on and around May 10 and 11, 2022, based in articles and pap/drone photos from the time, like this Daily Mail article:

Let’s review the timeline:

April 22, 2022 - Harry performs at Coachella weekend 2 in Indio, CA.

April 26, 2022 - OW is onstage at CinemaCon in Las Vegas when she is served custody papers. H is not there.

But where is H? According to the article - circus training!

Late April/early May - Harry starts training in Kent, England with family-owned Sanctus Circus.

From the article:

“A source told [the publication]: Harry has spent weeks being taught circus skills for this video — he wanted it to be a real spectacle.

'It is probably his most expensive video yet because as well as all the rehearsals, it was a huge set with loads of extras and really extravagant costumes'.

The source revealed to the publication that the singer pushed himself to the limit in order to perform the stunts. Adding: 'It's been a real undertaking and the finished product will prove why he's one of the biggest pop stars in the world.' “

So late April - May 11 - circus stuff. Which is part time and on-and-off, I imagine. Then filming. And this was an UNDERTAKING that would have required a lot of planning.

He even arranged to have live animals, as outlined here in an article with the horse and parrot handlers:

Some take aways:

- he was supposed to the riding *the WHITE horse*. And when that didn’t work, he ensured the white horse remained in the shot.

- they only had a short time to teach him with the animals, but he listened and did exactly what they said.

- the legendary Styles charm extends to grumpy parrots named Poppleguy. “He's a little bit picky and he went straight on Harry Styles' shoulder, the sign of a good vibe," [his owner] said.”

Who can resist this man?!

But he HAS to know that he’ll get questions about the song title, since it shares a name with a song by Blondie. And he gets photographed making this video - articles about it start appearing May 12, 2022.

So what does he do next? Creates a smoke screen! Good thing two of his best friends—Ben Winston and James Corden—run a late night show known for outrageous bits with musicians. And he has a long history of doing crazy things with them, so no one will bat an eye.

He heads off to NYC for Harry’s House promo and ONO, but first — he has a DUPLICATE video to shoot.

And it’s hilarious, watching him shock and delight a quartet of Brooklyn residents and their friends:

And look at the clapperboard to date it:

Bottom right - MAY 17/22.

The next morning, May 18, he is on air with Howard Stern who immediately brings up Blondie (look at H’s usual TS grin!!). And watch him evade:

“You’re reading too much into it…I know you’d like me to tell you ‘you’re spot on’ but…yeah, you’re not.”

But you know who thinks Howard actually is Spot On? Harry’s Mom!!

The Late Late Daylight video airs on May 26/27, 2022 (depending on your time zone). And here is Anne’s IG story when she watches it:

And then - Harry keeps the circus video in his pocket. For FIFTEEN MONTHS. And makes and releases other videos.

There’s background speculation that the still images captured (Birdrry) might be for a Daydreaming or Grapejuice or other video, despite the bird. After all - we already have a Daylight MV!

And then, on July 18th, 2023 at his penultimate HSLOT concert in Lisbon, Harry has the bird image shown on the screen as he finishes singing Daylight.

After the concert, we learn that the video will drop in July 19th at 5pm UK, 12 pm Eastern.

And while the As It Was video promo stated: “It’s just us”, this one proclaims “It’s just a video, just for you.”

Which naturally leads us to this parallel:

And it is followed by the 10-minute 2nd encore piano ballad at the final HSLOT concert on July 22, introduced in Italian by saying “I wrote this for you, just for tonight.”

**My theory - its release is another in a long line of grand gestures designed to remind and assure Blondie of his ongoing, perpetual love and devotion.**

[lestappeninchidents]

My god, you guys are not ready for your future fic update !!! Thanks to @axerocknroll , I think I’m writing the most beautiful lestappen of my life. I'm very emotional while writing it and I even have tears in my eyes because I'm so proud of what I'm doing. 😭🥹

I have for now 13 pages and more than 6300k, and it’s just the begging of the story and the idea that inspired me. 🫢🫠 I’m so exiting to share with you this.

I know you didn't get the fluff you deserved in my previous fic, so here you go!! We have a Charles all in love and completely overwhelmed by his feelings for Max, we have love meetings like I've never written and religious symbolism for sensual things. We have art references too. ❤️❤️

I’M FREAKING OUT THAT YOU DON’T LIKE IT!! 🫣😭

Here a little snippet. It’s just the begging of the request, there’s so much more before and there’ll be so many more afterwards for the whole idea of @axerocknroll.

Austria 2022 (and memories of before), a podium that luxury would envy :

The nightly meetings after the days of racing, in small restaurants or pubs, had increased their relationship a little more. It made them into something, as imposing as the moon, that Charles didn't even fear to be seen late at night in public with Max. He even became proud of it. His heart became like marshmallow every time he had these thoughts and he asked for more every time. Especially with the moments of euphoria and pain that had broken his heart and left open wounds to Charles' soul. Max became his serenity, always camouflaged when he pricked himself or was pricked too hard against the field of roses that offered itself to him this season.

Charles found himself thinking several times, after one hand had caressed a drop of sauce on the corner of his lips by the thumb of the other and the looks that held the secrets of the world, that the house was Max. His soul and Max's were fused together at the heart, like atoms that attract and detach.

Max will be his undoing, he said to himself one day after he had stuffed himself with too much pasta after the Imola Grand Prix and his heart had stopped for a nanosecond when Max told him what Sassy had done to his simulator. They had been in a small Italian restaurant that Charles knew and knew he could trust not to be disturbed by him and Max.

The light was subdued, as if lit by candlelight which gave an air of Beauty and the Tramp. Almost kissing thanks to... no, because... no, thanks... in short, to a spaghetti that would bring them together without realizing it. The Ferrari driver had taken precautions to be at the back of the restaurant, in a corner that was a little more subdued than the others, with the soft, slow Italian music that would camouflage the last indiscreet ears. Everything seemed perfect. The race awaited them tomorrow and Charles was in the best conditions to play the podium, with Max who was supposed to offer him a great battle. Tonight, they would enjoy a sweet night, profiling the path of their flirtation, and tomorrow the protégé of the tifosi hoped that they would be able to close their weekend in the best way before taking the plane.

"...if you had seen this, Charles! The menace that she is, jumped on the screen while I was showering, like she knew what she was doing. The cunning one! I'm sure she's the one who lost me the race in Miami, I couldn't train properly at the apartment. She took advantage of the fact that I forgot to close the damn door, which never happens to me, to sneak in like the little devil she is. And then..."

Charles watched the tagliatelle wrap around his fork energetically, because of the story he was telling. The divine carbonara sauce that the predestinato had already been able to taste several times, had made its way onto the freckle on Max's upper lip. If at this very moment Charles could paint the scene, believe him, it would be obscener than any nude that art could count, and will count in the future. Obscener than Courbet's The Origin of the World, more obscene than Manet's Luncheon on the Grass which had shocked the crowd at the time, even more obscene than Rodin’s bronze Iris, Messenger of the Gods which was even more equivocal than The Origin of the World.

If Charles Leclerc had been able to paint or sculpt Max Verstappen at that very moment: the Academy of arts, the World, the public, the Formula 1 fans, the teams, and the Universe would have half covered their eyes; so violent would the divine be to contemplate for their retina. Which would have ended up burning their eyes, like a solar eclipse. So much the better. Charles would rather keep it to himself, in his Pandora's box, which only he could open and unleash when he wanted to.

Was it wrong if Charles was dying to literally sit on Max's lap, in full view of everyone like an exhibitionist, and lick the little piece of sauce obscenely for several minutes? Then, to feed him and Max on these same strong thighs that he was dying to bite, to suck, to knead and to lick until the groin to make Max crazy. Just like he had done a few months earlier at that party.

Oh, yes. It was the most tantalizing fantasy he'd ever had in his life and especially one that had given him an erection so quickly, right in the middle of a restaurant. His legs tightened to keep anyone from noticing his unchaste thoughts.

#lestappen #lestappen fic #charles leclerc #max verstappen #olympe’s writings #.txt #snippet #love cannot stay in a closet #<< title

[mariacallous]

The man charged with administering Arizona’s elections isn’t concerned about the state’s ability to securely hold elections. But he’s going to have to persuade millions of other people to feel the same way.

Adrian Fontes, a Democrat, was elected Arizona’s secretary of state in 2022. A lawyer who previously worked as a prosecutor in Colorado and Arizona, and served as the Maricopa County Recorder before taking office, Fontes must now take on the role of convincing the state’s voters that its elections are legitimate.

Arizona is possibly the market leader in ridiculous election conspiracies and deniers. After former president Donald Trump falsely claimed fraud following the 2020 election, a sham audit to investigate claims of election fraud was conducted by Cyber Ninjas, the cybersecurity firm hired by the Arizona state Senate. Cyber Ninjas falsely claimed that 300 dead people voted; the firm shut down after refusing to release public records to comply with a court order.

In 2022, Arizona election workers faced violent threats, and Trump used technical glitches to stoke fear about the legitimacy of election results. Kari Lake, a prominent election denier who received Trump’s endorsement for governor, refused to concede after losing the election, and made multiple attempts to get the courts to overturn the result. (Lake is now running for Senate.)

Fontes already has his hands full in the lead-up to the 2024 election. In November, two Republican Arizona county officials, Peggy Judd and Terry Crosby, were indicted by the Arizona attorney general on felony charges of conspiracy and interference with an election officer. The charges stemmed from their alleged efforts to delay the certification of votes in the 2022 general election, citing unsubstantiated conspiracy theories. (An attorney for Crosby told Reuters there was no crime and that his client will be vindicated. Judd did not immediately respond to a request for comment.)

In an interview with WIRED, Fontes spoke about his plans to protect election workers in 2024, his thoughts on generative AI and deepfakes, and what he thinks of conservative political activist Charlie Kirk’s knowledge of Arizona’s elections.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

WIRED: What is keeping you up at night?

Fontes: Well, the most critical things that are keeping me up at night don't have anything to do with the technology. It has to do with a lot of the unknowns out there. Human error being blown up by election denialists, by social media.

That's what's bothering me more than anything else. Our systems are quite good, we've got lots of checks and balances, we have a relatively decent grasp on what [threats] AI could pose. We're gonna stick with the basics in our trainings. We're gonna keep it as simple as possible for our voters so they can follow the instructions as easily and cleanly as possible.

At the end of the day, we've got to be ready for just about anything. So there's no one particular thing that's really keeping me up. It's sort of the universe of concerns that are kind of bouncing off of each other.

WIRED: I was at the Turning Point USA event this weekend, and Charlie Kirk [the founder of Turning Point USA] said onstage that elections in Arizona had become less secure. I'm wondering what you'd say to that?

Fontes: Charlie Kirk doesn't know shit about Arizona's election. So I don't know what he's talking about. Our elections are far more secure than they even were in 2020, which were the most secure elections that we've had. I'd like to hear why he thinks that. Where does he get his information from? What facts does he have to support that statement? Who has he actually spoken to in the election administration world? And why does he think that by increasing our security profile, working more closely with federal, state, and local law enforcement and technology officials, how that all makes our elections less secure?

Charlie Kirk is a grifter, who only stirs the pot for his own profit. And what he's doing is eroding the trust that Americans have in one another. That's his MO and he's free to do that under the First Amendment. But he's not paying any of the price and the consequences. He personally is shielded in his privilege, from the erosion of our democracy, from the lack of trust, and the fact that we've lost a lot of people because of the threats that his rhetoric brings to bear. So I think he should reconsider. Maybe potentially just supporting his assertions with some facts, that might be a good start.

WIRED: Can you explain why Arizona in particular attracted so many election conspiracy theories?

Fontes: One of the things that is important [to] realize about Arizona is that we are historically a place where, I will kindly say, free thinking is kind of a normal thing. You know, we don't have generations-long institutions that have really locked themselves into power for long periods of time. We don't have any royal families who made millions and millions of dollars here locally, and then invested locally. We are an amalgam of people from all over the country and all over the world. And when you have this really diverse soup of different ways of thinking and looking at things, folks might gravitate toward one space or another. And that free thinking sometimes becomes, you know, a good breeding ground for some of these conspiracy theories. It can go off the rails a little bit, once in a while. But that's okay. American democracy requires a diversity of thought. And it's our intellectual freedom that is one of our biggest strengths.

Now, we still have to agree on the outcomes of elections. That's the golden thread that holds the entire fabric of our society together. And that's the one piece of our civic culture that is now being attacked. That's different than what we've seen in the past and the conflicts that we've seen issue by issue, whether it's immigration, or abortion, or the economy or gas prices, or whatever.

WIRED: Talk to me about the relationships you have with your peers in the Arizona state government. How cooperative are they with you? And do you have any fear that they may try to undermine the results of the election?

Fontes: We have very good relationships, even with people who find themselves in the election denialism space. There are some things that we very much agree on. For example, Representative Alex Kolodin—one of the biggest election denialists, who has actually sued me several times and who was just recently disciplined by the state bar—he and I have actually worked very closely together on some issues. We disagree on a lot of stuff, but he's going to be sponsoring one of the bills that we're bringing forward to help us better and more frequently train our election officials here in Arizona. But you know, when we're sitting in a conference room behind closed doors, and the lights and cameras are not on us, generally speaking, we can find common ground when it comes to the pragmatic application of skillsets regarding the operation and administration of our elections. It's when the cameras get turned on that people sometimes go astray a little bit.

WIRED: How do you plan to protect election workers? And do you have any fears of violence at the polls or other places?

Fontes: Political violence has become a part of the regular conversation here in America. And I think that's shameful. At the end of the day, if you're threatening violence or committing acts of violence to achieve a political end, that's terrorism. To protect our election workers, we're working very closely with state, local, and federal officials. We've been increasing our security funding. We've been hardening our physical security, personnel security, information technology security, networking security across the board, working closely with CISA [Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency].

We are sending folks from that agency to every one of our counties, and they are doing surveys, they're looking at the counties to advise them. We're working with the National Guard day in and day out, to help monitor the circumstances online and in other spaces. We now have four security personnel working in different spaces in the secretary of state's office to monitor and alert when we see activities out there that might be problematic or might need further investigation. At this stage, we're doing everything we can to bring as much information to law enforcement as possible. God willing, the violence and threats of violence will go away soon, so that we can get back to the notion of just running elections as we have done for the past several generations.

WIRED: Are you personally prepared to become a target of Donald Trump and his supporters?

Fontes: Well, I'm already a target. I've already been threatened, my family's already been threatened. We are already struggling to meet my personal security needs and the security needs of my own family. This is already a reality for me, but our democracy is worth it.

When I volunteered to give my life to be a United States Marine, I didn't think that after being honorably discharged, I would continue to have to live under threat. And it's a sad day in America, where civilian officials doing civilian jobs have to suffer these kinds of threats and these kinds of violence. Is this the country that we want to live in? Do we want regular civilian activities to be the target of threats of violence or actual violence? These are Americans who were bringing it here and that's embarrassing.

WIRED: What has it been like to experience the attacks on your family and safety?

Fontes: Well, thankfully, so far, it's just been threats. And we really are grateful to law enforcement, who continue to monitor the internet and other communication channels to make sure that we stay safe. It's not pleasant. And you know, my partner, my children, we're all very cognizant of it. And it's not something that I would wish on anybody else.

WIRED: You ran a tabletop exercise [a simulation of potential scenarios in the upcoming elections] over the past few days. Was there anything that stuck out to you or surprised you?

Fontes: I think the advancing technology and generative AI really was brought home for a lot of folks in the room. One of the deepfakes [at the exercise] was created with only base information from the internet and then some free tools. They created a deepfake of me and of another elected official in Arizona, using that person's permission and some footage that they took. And that one was strikingly better. And they actually had that official speaking German, speaking Chinese, in what appeared to be really, really well-placed lip movements, eye movements, all that stuff. In another six to eight months, those technologies are going to improve.

People have always been able to lie, but the effectiveness of those lies is now augmented and significantly increased. So AI doesn't present new threats. It presents broader and deeper threats that we're already working to deal with.

WIRED: The Colorado Supreme Court ruled yesterday that Trump can't be on the ballot. Can you talk about why you have defended Trump's right to be on the ballot and what you make of the Colorado decision?

Fontes: My position is that Arizona statute obliges me to put Donald Trump on the ballot where he has already qualified for the ballot in two other states. So my position is in defense of Arizona state law and our order under the rule of law, and whether or not I think Mr. Trump ought to be on the ballot is irrelevant. I have a duty to execute the law. As for Colorado, that's a Colorado question. And I have a feeling that the United States Supreme Court will have to step in at some point.

WIRED: What would you say to an average voter who believes that elections in America and elections in Arizona are rigged?

Fontes: I would ask them if they're hearing that from elected officials who were elected in the same system that they're questioning. If you're hearing it from someone who is currently in office, they got there because they got elected, because people voted for them. And those votes actually counted. The burden has been shifted to the defender of the system instead of the person trying to accuse the system of being problematic. I want to know why. I want to see the facts that have allegedly been kept from public view, I want to see the actual evidence that has never surfaced in any state anywhere, to show that there's some kind of widespread fraud or that elections are fickle.

I want to see the facts just like [speaker of the Arizona House of Representatives] Rusty Bowers wanted to see the facts. Just like [Georgia secretary of state] Brad Raffensperger wanted to see the facts. Just like sensible Republicans and Democrats across the country have wanted to see the facts. The burden should rest on the accuser. And if someone is accusing our systems of being corrupted, they need to show us the facts that they're using to come to that conclusion. Otherwise, their accusations are empty.

[lovelytsunoda]

monza is for believers // nyck de vries

summary: nyck gets his f1 debut, and y/n is there to watch his dreams come true. after the race is over, he makes a decision that will alter the course of their friendship forever.

pairing: nyck de vries x female reader (friends to lovers!)

warnings: monza 2022 ( don’t worry the curse will get him next year !! ) and indications of sex. mentions of health issues & chronic illness (iron deficiency anemia)and brief mention of pregnancy (like it’s barely there)

authors note: if I was latifi and just got my ass handed to me by the other nyck, I’d quit then and there 😭. i still dont believe that this man doesnt have a seat for next year.

saturday - qualifying

“nyck, this is incredible, honestly. you really didn’t have to do this.”

y/n y/l/n was pure awe as she stepped out of the mercedes, looking around at the italian track. this was monza, the temple of speed.

obviously it wasn’t her first time at a track. she’s been to zaandvort before, in the grandstands. but she’d never watched from the pit lane before, much less the mercedes amg hospitality suite.

“of course i did! your mom called and told me you needed a break.” nyck laughed, throwing an arm around y/n’s shoulders

she rolled her eyes. “you’re insufferable today, de vries.”

they’d known each other for over ten years. once up a time, y/n had wanted to give karting a shot, fascinated by all things fast and car related. of course, a few seasons later she was frustrated and ready to throw in the towel. she had only ever won one race, and lacked the self confidence to keep going.

but her coach adored her and wanted to keep her around, so he started training her in different aspects of the team: managment, stewarding, mechanics. anything that he could think of to keep y/n somehow connected to the sport.

and now she worked in the manufacturing department for porsche: engineering and repairs and anything else mechanically inclined that people were needed for.

“god, I missed the racetrack. like, marrakech and new york were incredible, but there was no roar of engines, no smell of gasoline.”

nyck chuckled as he swiped his pass at the paddock entry gates. “the burning rubber is still there.”

“still not real racing. not the way that we were taught.”

“shut up. I’m not the one that quit.”

“you weren’t a backmarker.”

“my mom thought you were really good.”

y/n rolled her eyes, pulling her sunglasses over her eyes as nyck stopped for autographs and photos. “she’s your mother, she had to support us both.”

“she loves you.”

“and don’t I know it.”

they walked together through the mercedes hospitality suite, getting hot drinks before settling in at a seat near the window. the sun was streaming through the windows, reflecting off the softness of nycks skin, the familiar pang in her stomach that reminded her they couldn’t be anything more than friends.

it was the lifestyle he lead, a relationship would never work for him: the long nights, weekends away, camera always trained on him wherever he went.

and as much as it hurt, she needed to accept that she and nyck could never be more than what they were. more than friends.

“nyck!” a thick voice shouted out from across the suite as toto wolff came striding across the small cafe area

“hey, toto.” nyck flushed, waving at the team principal. “this is y/n, I don’t know if susies told you about her? she and I used to go karting together years and years ago.”

y/n went pink, slapping at nycks arm. “I went the technical route. I help build engines for porsche in amsterdam.”

toto laughed. “so you’re the smart one in the relationship than?”

they both flushed pink, nyck and y/n talking over each other to try and refute the team principals assumption.

“we’re just friends. nycks invited my family to a few e-prix but it’s not like I go everywhere with him.”

“hey, nyck, I know that you were with aston yesterday and hoped you’d be able to watch from mercedes this weekend, but alexander albon is is the hospital, he has appendicitis.”

nycks jaw fell wide open. y/n reached across the table to put a hand on his arm, her magenta nail polish contrasting his tan skin. “nyck, go. I’ll meet you in the garage after I call your parents and make sure they’re watching.”

nyck nodded, grabbing his jacket and taking off across the hospitality suite while y/n grabbed for her phone, searching for mrs. de vries’ number. she got up from the wooden chair, grabbed her backpack and moved to follow nyck before toto stopped her.

“susie told me about your crush on him. neither of you are getting any younger. tell him before it’s too late.”

———————

“for optimized performance, you need to send him out on the mid compound tyre, it will last longer so you have a better chance to get quicker laps, since you’ll be able to stay out for more. based on weather patterns, we should als be starting with them tomorrow when the race begins-“

“you realize we have proper engineers for this, right miss y/l/n?” jost capito asked gently, passing y/n a pair of headphones.

y/n rolled her eyes, taking the soundproof headphones and slipping them around her neck. “just trying to be helpful. that’s my childhood best friend you’re sending out there.”

“she builds engines for a living, jost.” nyck pointed out as he got suited up in his williams fireproofs. “she also did like, four seasons of karting as a driver before our coach started training her in he behind the scenes. maybe she’s worth listening to.”

nyck never understood why someone as smart as y/n still hung around him all the time. sure, he was talented and famous, but nowhere near as brilliant as she was. she could have gone places, but instead she worked on the assembly line at porsche.

but y/n was always smiling, because it was something she was good at, something she enjoyed. she was happy slaving away and working to build something with her hands rather than sitting behind a desk looking pretty.

she wouldn’t have survived a day in the office: the hem of her white embroidered camisole tied so far up on her chest that one could see the royal blue lace on her bralette, the piercings crawling up her ear, her curly hair pinned up in a messy bun and the skin-tight jeans that made her ass look so good that it gave the dutch boy a hard on if he stared at her for longer than a minute.

and that damn tattoo. the three small dragons that trailed from the top of her jeans and up the side of her stomach, the small glittery stomach piercing in the middle.

basically the opposite of what an f1 wag was supposed to look like.

nyck wasn’t sure when he had started falling in love. and it hurt to know that he could never hold her like he wanted to, kiss her like he wanted to, make love to her like she deserved.

he wanted to blame it on his job, but the fact of the matter was that he was a coward scared to face his feelings for the one woman who had been by his side throughout everything.

“hey, nyck?”

the cold metal of the rings that she wore was pressed against his skin, making him suck in a breath.

“be careful out there, okay? I know you’ll play it safe, you always do, but come back to me in one piece, okay?”

nyck nodded, clutching her hands in his. “I promise.”

“pinky promise?”

y/n smiled, extending her pinky finger. “promise.”

every nerve in her body was on edge as she watched him walk towards that car, slowly backing away from the garage so that the drivers could get ready for fp3.

“you’re not exactly convincing me that you’re just childhood best friends.”

nicholas latifis voice made the reserve drive jump as he was trying to pull his balaclava over his head.

“what’s it to you?” nyck said coldly, staring at the canadian.

nicholas shrugged. “I just see two people who are madly in love with each other and too afraid to admit it.

sunday - race day

ah, race day. y/n loved everything about it.

it was cold in monza as she walked with nyck to the williams hospitality suite, clouds hanging low in the air.

“you need med-“

the driver laughed, finishing the sentence for her. “medium compound tyres, I know. and god knows jost does too, you’ve ingrained it in his mind after yesterday.”

because of the cold, the top that she wore was more conservative today, only one of the three dragons on her stomach visible. but this tank top showed off more of her cleavage, and it was all nyck could do not to stare in wonder at y/n’s double-d’s, a little bit of dark brown lace visible from the bra.

the previous night hadn’t been the first night that nyck had to touch himself in the shower to get her off his mind and it probably wouldn’t be the last. he loved everything about her so much that it hurt.

“hey, you’re going to do great out there, nyck.” y/n said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. nyck reached up to place one of his hands on her arm, wishing that she wasn’t wearing her plaid flannel, that way he could find comfort in her soft skin. “you’re starting p8, you can do this, that’s a good place to be.”

“y/n, I’ll be okay, just a little nervous.”

he could tell that she didn’t believe him.

and then she did something really stupid.

y/n curled her fingers into the collar of his williams polo, pulling him towards her as she pressed her lips to his. after a moment of shock, nyck fell into the kiss, his hands coming to hold her hips as their lips moved in perfect harmony with each other, a low moan emanating from the dutchmans throat before y/n pulled away.

“wow.” she said simply, nyck echoing her thoughts, or lack thereof.

“now do you see why I need you to come back to me in one piece?”

nyck exhaled. "listen, y/n, this is a can of worms that I really can't afford to open when i'm about to get in a car going three-hundred miles per hour. but i promise we'll talk about this as soon as i come back, okay? because i have a lot that i really need to tell you."

y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, fighting off tears as she just simply said: "stay safe out there, de vries. remember: medium tyres."

nyck smiled, pained at the thought that he might be causing y/n more emotional pain. but he knew that if he said what she wanted to hear, what he needed to say, he wouldn't make it out onto the racetrack in time.

"medium tyres, got it." he squeezed her hand, ready to walk away before changing his mind at the last second, turning back on his heel to press another kiss to y/n's lips before taking off to go put his fireproofs on.

it hurt her to watch him go, but she had to remember that he also kissed her and she hung on to the hope that what he had to say wasn't going to break her heart in the end.

because she didn't think that she could handle it if it did.

———————

"that's p8 nyck, p8. magnificent job, kid!"

"hey nyck, it's y/n. i'm proud of you, dumbass."

despite himself, nyck laughed. "have you been backseat strategizing this entire time?"

"what, of course not." y/n joked sarcastically. "i might have gaslit jost into offering me a job as race engineer."

"god help us all." nyck chuckled. "can we talk after i've gotten weighed? i'm not mad about what happened earlier, i swear to you, but i have something i need to tell you."

any unease or worry left in y/n's soul evaporated when she saw nyck walking back towards the williams garage, fluffy hair ruffled and matted from the balaclava, helmet in his hand as he opened his arms to engulf y/n in a tight hug, bodies pressed together, fingrs digging into fabric.

"you did it, de vries."

"i'm in love with you." he hadn't meant to start his grand speech like that, the words just slipping out. "and i have been since we were sixteen years old. when you stopped karting, it stung because i wasn't sure if i was ever going to see you again. so when i saw you at the track a few weeks later, learning how to fix an engine, i thought it was a miracle, a sign. but i was too much of a coward to tell you sooner."

"i'm not the kind of girl that guys like you go out with." y/n confessed. "even going to the e-prix i realized that i never fit the mould of what a racing wife was supposed to be like. and when you got into f2 and started travelling a lot, even though you brought me with you as often as you could while i was still in school, i felt lonely and i knew i couldn't put myself through that, that we would never work. even when i was with you, i always felt out of place. i don't look like those other girls with their fancy clothes and their toned stomachs and their modelling careers."

"I'm going to stop you right there, y/n. i'm in love with you. not those other girls, you. tattoos, piercings and assembly-line job and all. and we can make this travel thing work, i promise. but i don't want to spend another day pretending that i don't want to hold you in my arms and kiss every inch of your skin."

“kiss me, nyck.”

nobody needed to tell him twice.

the garage burst out into cheers as they embraced, her lips soft against his. nyck tasted like sweat, but y/n tasted like peppermint from the chap stick she was wearing, the taste of dark chocolate still on her tongue. she cradled his face in her hands, his arms tightening their hold around her waist. one of the engineers ran up to nyck and took his helmet from him so he could hold y/n with both hands, both parties giggling into the kiss, wide smiles on their faces when they finally split apart.

"are you saying that we could have been doing that for eleven years by now?"

nyck lowered his voice, raising an eyebrow in an attempt to be sexy. "then i guess we'd better make up for lost time."

———————

the hotel room window was open, a soft breeze causing the sheer curtains to billow in the wind. clothes were scattered all over the wooden floor: plaid flannel shirt crumpled by the front door, a polo shirt and jeans thrown over the arm chair, tank top draped over the television. nyck and y/n were on the bed, basking in each other's company now that they finally had each other.

the rest of the hotel floor were probably glad that the two were finally finished moaning each other's names at the top of their lungs. it had been a long hour and a half for the people in the rooms on either side.

y/n was wearing one of nycks shirts, bunched up under her breasts to show off her tattoos, the ones that nyck found utterly fascinating as he traced the path that the dragons took from the hem of her calvins and up over her navel with his fingertips.

“why dragons? I’ve always been curious.”

“do you remember when I quit karting?” she paused, waiting for nyck to nod. “it wasnt just because I wasn’t confident in myself any more. that was also the year that I got my diagnosis.”

nyck didn’t mean to say it, it just slipped out: “shit.”

“I was still just a kid, and I was terrified. I couldn’t deal with things properly. the dizziness,the fatigue, shortness of breath. I think one of the hardest parts was learning that I could have problems during pregnancy if I ever decided to have kids. I was young and I was scared. hell, I’m twenty seven and still don’t have kids. I don’t even know if that’s something I want, I just know that I’ve spent too much time being scared. to the celtics, dragons meant courage, and to the chinese dragons represent good fortune. they were two things I thought I needed a bit more of.”

she had been diagnosed with an iron deficiency three months after her performance in karting began to seriously decline. she was holding down the midfield okay, still finishing races in the points, but out of nowhere, she couldn’t keep up with the middle of the pack anymore, she was finishing races out of breath and dizzy. when her period came around, she would just bleed and bleed and bleed, never letting up. that was the year she found out she’d need to spend the rest of her life on iron supplements.

she did some things she regretted that year, and some days she wondered if quitting karting was one of them. it was definitely one of the less irresponsible choices she made, she always wondered if she could have gotten better once she understood her body and her condition a bit better.

but at the same time, her condition had lead her to start fixing engines, which is what lead to her job at porsche.

what lead her back to nyck.

the dutchman took her hand in his. “whatever comes next, I promise you that we’ll get through it together, okay? if you do decide that you want kids, I’ll be right next to you through it all, okay?”

she nodded, tears threatening to fall. “I wouldn’t want them with anybody else but you.”

“I love you, nyck. there’s never been anybody else for me.”

#nyck de vries #nyck de vries x reader #formula e x Reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #mercedes formula e #williams formula 1

[jwood719]

Looking at the Old Railroads: Illinois Railway Museum, Labor Day 2022 -- “Night Train” weekend, with extended hours for viewing after 6 PM. 

Here: Passenger cars -- at Night!

I’ve walked through the passenger car displays on previous trips, but while they were usually illuminated (the storage barns a kinda’ dark, being big barns) the interior lighting showed much better with daylight gone.

There are also different cars open for walking through depending on how their restoration projects have fared, allowing for different experiences as months pass.  Some cars, however, will probably never be open to foot traffic, like the “Ely,” Nevada Northern’s business class car (read: it’s really fancy) as the construction details and furnishings are just too easily damaged.

 Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe (AT&SF) 1524 passenger/freight combine car: the freight section -- with crates!

A couple of these images are likely similar to earlier photos, but I believe these turned out looking some better as lower light over my shoulder allowed for better shots through window glass.

AT&SF 1524: seating section.  The car was outfitted with “flippable” seats, commonly seen on commuter fleets.

Louisville & Nashville (L&N) dining car “Galt House:” service area and entrance to the kitchen, which featured two ranges, two ovens, a grill, multiple storage lockers, a refrigerator, and a deep freeze, among other things; built 1929-30.

“Galt House”

“Galt House”

If “Galt House” resembles a roadside diner on wheels, New York Central’s “Dover Strait” (renamed in 1934; originally “Stryker” when built in 1924) offers the kinds of appointments that you might expect from a nice hotel lounge in the city.

“Dover Strait”

Also featuring six double bed berths and a buffet, it is one of nine that once ran from Chicago to New York City.

“Dover Strait”

“Villa Real, “ a “heavy” Pullman sleeper, is a recent donation to the museum.  As related by a note in the window, one Albert Sauer bought the car from Norfolk Southern in 1995 and spent 26 years on a personal restoration project.

Double open berths on the “Villa Real.”  The car also includes 3 double bedrooms.  Passengers were seated facing forward or backward depending on how much was paid for their fare; rear-facing seats corresponded to upper bed sleeping.

Sauer’s restoration included major metal work to repair what had been removed to suit as a track repair-foreman’s car, a configuration that lost many of the sumptuous fittings that made a Pullman a Pullman.  Restoration parts were also retrieved from “...other scrapped Pullman cars as well as eBay purchases and 3D printing.” [1]  The work Sauer did has re-created a truly amazing piece of railroad history; he donated the car to IRM in 2021.

Contemporary photo of a heavy Pullman, similar to “Villa Real” as shown inside the car window. [2]

A double bedroom on the “Villa Real.”  

Heavy Pullmans were all steel construction, or nearly; the “wood” was mostly faux-painted metal.  One reporter noted in 1917 that “One man can trundle in a single wheelbarrow all the wood that has gone into its construction.” [3]

Sleeping configuration of the lower seating on a heavy Pullman. [2]

Nevada Northern’s “Ely” demonstrates the kind of “Palace Car” that Pullman and company made their name, and fame, with:

Nevada Northern’s “Ely,” which features staterooms, a lounge, a dining room, and quarters for crew.  

IRM notes that the “...ornate interior remains almost entirely original,” [1] and is the oldest passenger car in the collection, dating to 1889.

View through the “Ely” at a pantry.

Refurbished by North American Car Company in 1959, it was donated to Illinois in 1962.

Lounge/office on the “Ely.” 

R. Jake Wood, 2022

[1] Information related in window placards supplied by Illinois Railway Museum.

[2] Vintage photos on display in car windows, with minor processing by Jake Wood.

[3] Joe Welsh, Bill Howes & Kevin J. Holland: The Cars of Pullman; New York, New York: Crestline imprint 2015.  Quote, page 67, from The Story of the Pullman Car by Joseph Husband; Chicago: A.C. McClurg Company, 1917.

Illinois Railway Museum

Yours truly giving in to the urge to take a mirrored self-image; inside the Louisville & Nashville’s “Galt House” dining car -- ‘cause y’know: it’s what you do with a camera and a big mirror panel!

#photography #illinoisrailwaymuseum #night train weekend 2022 #roadtrips

[power-chords]

Random post-COVID update: I got infected for the third time right before Thanksgiving and first tested positive 11/22/2022. I was testing consistently negative after a round of Paxlovid + Paxlovid “rebound” by 12/3/2022. I had an episode of post-exertional malaise and joint pain that following weekend which was triggered by going for drinks with friends on a Friday night and then sprinting close to a mile from the Garment District to catch a train at Grand Central. These are common symptoms of PASC (Long COVID) and I was totally flattened and very grateful it was a weekend because I would have been totally nonfunctional at work. My Adderall dose did nothing. All I could do was lie down and watch TV and sleep.

By that Monday I was OK, so I resumed commuting to work. I spoke to a friend of mine who had Long COVID for about eight weeks after his first acute infection and it was bad enough that his doctor didn’t even want him to fly — his symptoms were primarily respiratory. He’s an avid cyclist and in good physical shape. He saw a LC specialist who advised him that most people return to “normal” levels of physical exercise much too soon after acute COVID recovery and that appears to be a major trigger. The major takeaway is that you need 8-10 weeks of strict avoidance of “real” exercise, anything that isn’t walking around, housework, lifting stuff here and there, and ascending short flights of stairs. She sees a lot of LC in people who are young and were otherwise healthy and physically very active, which she doesn’t think is a coincidence. These people are getting sick, returning to hiking and cycling and running as soon as they feel better, and then wham, they get hit with classic LC symptoms. My friend was prescribed several weeks of sustained bed rest which fortunately he could take due to his job, and he made a full recovery from LC. He’s since resumed cycling and has gradually and carefully built himself back up to more or less where he was prior to infection.

So since my own infection and that bout with PEM and Joint Hurty, I have avoided booze (which is an inflammatory) and taken that advice and I have not done anything to get myself seriously sweating and pumping blood and catching my breath. I have also tried to keep my sleeping and eating schedules regular, with less success (lol). I am going to keep it up through the end of January, and per the advice of LC forums and subreddits I have also been supplementing with antihistamines at night and low dose Aspirin and getting plenty of hydration + electrolytes (mostly drinking Gatorade). It is now 1/8/2023 and I have not had any further flares of intense fatigue or joint pain. My experience is purely anecdotal and I can’t confidently say it will work for everybody, but it has definitely been working for me, so I thought I’d put it out there. Just because you feel you are recovered from COVID does not mean you’re out of the woods for Long COVID — do yourself a favor and be extraordinarily gentle with yourself as long as you possibly can.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 18 -- Deacon

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 18 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don't interact.

Voyeurism with Deacon x g/n! Sole

Whoops, big surprise, this got angsty. Sorry Deeks! I just can't help it with this man, I don't know why 😅 but hopefully y'all still enjoy it regardless!

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2022 Event list so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Voyeurism, (non-consensual voyeurism), masturbation, angst, wishful thinking, pining.

1.6k words.

--

Yeah. This is cute. 

Deacon’s mind said to him dryly. 

This is a healthy response to this situation. This isn’t weird. Sole will understand. They’ll get it. 

The spy shook his head, eyes closed tight as his brain spewed unwanted words of restraint, of undesired and unneeded common sense. 

What the hell is sensible about any part of this situation? We’re in an abandoned ice cream shop that Sole used to visit on weekends before giant bombs blew everything to hell, and they took a nap for 200 years. We’re surrounded by packs of super mutants on one side, and raiders on the other, and I’m biting into the back of my hand to keep quiet as they moan through the fabric of their shirt on the other side of this thin, crumbling concrete wall. Nothing about this situation is even remotely expectable. 

He could hardly fucking stand it. 

You’re both doing the same damn thing, if you’d just talk to them about it, maybe, the two of you could finally–

Deacon hissed through his teeth, his uncomfortably dry hand stroking too harshly over his erection as the frustration built up in both his mind and body. 

This isn’t the same. Another side of his mind refuted. I’m over here, pining the skin off my cock for them, while they’re undoubtedly thinking about their late spouse-- Or… anyone else, even. --at the feel of their own hand.

He didn’t know.  

I should be thinking of Barbara. Or of someone– anyone, but them. Right along with them.

They’re the only fucking friend I’ve got. I’ve had, in… what? A decade? Maybe more? I can’t count right now. 

Deacon’s head fell back against the wall, a grimace coating his expression, even as his blue eyes hazed over with climbing bliss. 

I can’t lose them over… what? Wanting to engage in a little hanky panky with them? Wanting what? A close connection? Intimacy? Vulnerability? When– in what universe would that ever happen? 

We both know I could never have anything like that again. 

A deep breath escaped him, throaty and louder than he would’ve liked as his thumb grazed over his slit, collecting some of his slick pre-cum and stroking it over his length as the only way to ease the friction of his rough hand. 

A noise sounded through the thin wall behind him, and Deacon ceased his movements, holding his breath. 

Shit. Did they just hear me?

Just as he was contemplating trying to zip his jeans up over his cock, to hide the evidence; just as some half-assed story was forming on his lips about why he was sitting back here against the wall, rather than out where he should be, out on watch, another sound interrupted his train of thought. 

He felt his cock throb at the sound, as he heard Sole’s moan fill the air around him. A gasp followed shortly after, and then a bit of silence, but Deacon could still feel them there, somehow, he could feel Sole’s lingering presence just on the other side, and he knew they were just worried. Worried that someone would hear what they were doing. Worried like he was. 

What am I doing? Deacon asked himself for the upteenth time that night, and so many nights before now. 

This is wrong. It’s gross, and it’s wrong, and it’s not fair, for you to hear them like this without earning it, without them knowing. It’s wrong to be out here doing this in response to it. 

Deacon’s hand stilled on his cock, refusing to stroke himself, but gripping tight enough to hurt as his mind flooded with thoughts like these. He wasn’t unused to self-loathing, nah, he and that go waaaaay back, but this? This seemed low. Even for the likes of him.

Sole wasn’t some stranger in a pub, not some escort or one-night-stander, not someone he didn’t know on the other side of a hotel room, who just happens to be engaging in the same fun little activity as him. No, Sole was the reason for this… activity. They were in his thoughts, always, even when they weren’t in front of him, or by his side, on the days he went out on his own, they were still there. 

And he fucking hated it. 

That they were reduced to this. 

They’re his best friend, his partner, the reason his smiles aren’t so forced, the reason he feels he might still, after all this time, all these years, have the capacity to love someone when he thought that had all died long ago. 

His body jolted as another breathy sound left his partner from the other side of the wall, and his eyes rolled back in his head. 

Goddamn, if I could see what they look like when they make that sound. 

With that very image coming unbidden to his mind, Deacon’s hand unwittingly was back to stroking over his cock. He worked himself slowly, savoring the feeling, allowing his mind to wander to the possibility of him being the one to make them sound like that, to make them look as he imagined they would. Their gorgeous eyes rolled back in their head, their lips spread as they moaned his name, their skin glistening, their hair wild. Their skin would be flushed, eyes hazy as they blinked them open to steal a glance at him as he ravished their body, as he used his silver tongue to work towards a goal more worthwhile than any other. As he did as they deserved, as he worshiped them like he were one of the deacons of the old world and they were his God, shepherding their release like all the poor sinners those men would bring to the light. 

Sole’s gasps were leaving them more rapidly now, building to a crescendo that Deacon would give all that he had left to be a part of. Hell, he’d throw his choice shades off the top of trinity tower to be the one to bring about their thunderous release. 

But he was doomed to be a bystander. Invisible, as he always was, as he heard them groan out from the other side of the wall. A thud sounded against the concrete as he imagined their head falling back at the overwhelming feeling of their release. 

It was the sound that got him.

Deacon hadn’t thought he was close, he’d been so caught up in his own fantasy, all of his tormenting thoughts, he couldn’t feel his body’s signs, and now, he was caught completely off-guard. The spy bit hard into his wrist as a low grunt escaped him against his will, his light eyes prickling with tears of pleasure as he finally felt that pressure release within him.

His seed sprayed down onto the dirt, leaving him in enthusiastic spurts that had his hips writhing and his head knocking against that same wall Sole was surely collapsed against. 

The next battle came in the form of his breath, as Deacon pulled his hand away, he realized how fucking loud he was still being, even as the last white rope of his cum was emptied onto the floor. He released himself, forcing his mind to rally, to focus on easing his breath, as his cock softened where it laid over the lip of his boxers. 

“Fuck me.” He whispered, eyes closed tight as the guilt all came swirling back into his mind with a vengence. 

Again? I just did this again? One of these days, you know–

“Deacon?” 

His eyes shot open as Sole’s voice carried from the other side of the wall. 

“I-is that you?” They asked, uncertain, their voice almost shaking. 

Every thought entered his mind at a million miles a minute, swirling together in a confused traffic jam of ‘what do I say’s?’ and ‘what the hell do I do’s?’. 

“Ahh,” The sound escaped his throat, as a way of aiding his thoughts, but he hadn’t meant for it to be verbal goddamn it. 

“Ahem, uh, yeah. Deeks here.” He bit his tongue, tasting metal from the pressure. 

Sole’s silence scared him more than their call of his name had. 

“How, uh, how’s it hanging?” 

Oh my god. One part of his mind panicked, while the other tried to grasp onto some form of sanity, of common sense. But that part of his mind, he didn’t know what it was, but it always seemed it’s hands were wet, or that common sense was made of ice and sanity was liquid water, always managing to slip frustratingly from his hold.

There’s no god out there that can save you, you buffoon. Nothing can. That was it. You finally did it. Finally managed to get caught. 

He almost told his thoughts to ‘shut up’ out loud, but thought better of it at the last moment. That likely wouldn’t go over well with Sole. Especially after they hadn’t said a damn thing. 

“You heard me, huh.” 

The blood drained from his face. It wasn’t a question from their end, but worse than their certainty was the shame that he heard drip from every word. 

“That… uh, that I did. Yeah.” 

If he was gonna be the creepy asshole sitting out here while they did their personal business, he at least could own up to it. Deacon may be a liar, but Sole, Sole wasn’t dumb. They’d know he was lying, and that would make it even worse. 

“But, um…” He closed his eyes, taking a breath. “But you heard me too, so, you know. Guess we’re, uh, even. Right?” 

“Yeah…” They said quietly, almost too quietly to hear with the wall in the way. Deacon didn’t have time to try to make what repairs he could before they were speaking again, this time louder than before. 

“I won’t tell you about it, if you won’t tell me.” A light humor touched their voice. 

Deacon let out a dry laugh, his chest aching for a reason he refused to acknowledge. 

“Won’t tell you about what?” He said back, hoping they couldn’t hear the strain in his voice, the strain to sound humorous and light in return. 

He heard their laugh from the other side, a lovely sound that tugged at the sides of his mouth, despite the lingering throb in his chest. 

“Yeah, exactly. Good talk, partner.” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, his brows creased beneath his shades. “Partner.”

#fallout #fallout companions #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fo4 #fo4 companions #fallout deacon #deacon fo4 #sole #sole survivor #deacon x sole survivor #g/n! sole #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #dwd.nsfw

[wellexecuted]

So last year was the most seismic year of my life. I consider my ‘long 2023’ to have started in August 2022, during my first break up.

I had never experienced heartbreak like that. I threw myself into the gym and my new teaching job (and first full time position after uni). I discovered online dating for the first time, to my peril. I became extremely thin, and totally revelled in my sadness. I thought myself so profound, and this was compounded by numerous and terrible situationships. I went through what was probably my second genuine heartbreak.

Come about March- time, I started to ‘fix up’ emotionally. I met some of my best friends, and was partying every weekend (… and some weeknights). It was the busiest few months of my life. I then met my now- partner, who introduced me to another lovely circle of people.

March to December have been the happiest, silliest and busiest months of my life. I made some incredible memories with my friends and deepened my relationship with my partner. However, I’ve gotten pretty physically unhealthy, and… blew through what were already pretty meagre savings.

I regret nothing. The expense, ultimately, was worth it. As I progress through my twenties I’ve come to think of my life in terms of periods and seasons, as opposed to linear and unfaltering progress. I still worked hard this year, professionally. I had an article published in a blog, and successfully applied for my September apprenticeship. But this aspect of my life- my self- development and self- care- must come first now.

This year, I must calm down. This is certainly not punishment for my happiness. I have had a blast and I would not change a second of it. I just am acknowledging that I need to re- route (and re-root) myself.

I’m starting a new position tomorrow, as a cover teacher at a school closer to my home. Then, in September, I begin my official teacher training year. In the interim, my focus is on my health, my mind, and my existing relationships.

At my core, I thrive in my aloneness- I love to write and read, draw and paint. These things fell by the wayside in what I’ve been calling my ‘recovery’. I’m on day 7 of not smoking (a silly habit I picked up to make friends and ended up sticking), and I’m back in the gym. I’ve cleaned my room for the first time in months, and I’ve been hitting 8 hours of sleep most nights.

My socialising now consists of wine- free restaurant meals and chats over coffee. I have a few glasses of wine once a week, and have made my friends swear to only invite me ‘out- out’ once a month from this point onward. My partner and I take it in turns to dream up ‘weekend dates’, and spend our time traipsing museums and looking up life drawing classes.

I want this blog to reflect these things in the coming weeks and months. I am studying in my spare time in preparation for my training year, reading copiously, learning freely. As an aside, I’m, like, actually drinking water and eating vegetables again too. I’m going to try to stay consistent with an 100 days of productivity challenge. Please do join me! I love and miss my posting on this blog.

#graduate #graduatejobs #teaching #academia #aesthetics #artwork #self love #self care #calm #studyblr #university #studying #london #productivity #100 days of productivity #blog #daily blog #day one #new year #photography

[violetsaffron5]

Infinity

| Ao3 | Discord 18+ | Series Masterlist | Taglist | Chapter 11 |

10 | Incorrigible

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Ceremony for your grade assignment has arrived and you find out Gojo's been keeping a secret

words: 3564

cw: angst

Fun fact: I started writing this story in April of 2022. I left off at 363 pages (159,666 words), decided I hated all of it and started over. Chapters 1, 2 and what will be 13 are from the original story (with very slight modifications)

During your short time acting as a sorcerer, you’ve learned there’s very little to celebrate, so when someone makes Grade 1 rank, they throw a celebratory party in their honor, since most don’t tend to make it this far alive. You’re just lucky, apparently.

From what Satoru told you, the clans will send gifts as an acknowledgment of your success, a lot of people will show up just to drink, let loose and socialize and expect plenty of people to show up just to meet you.

Speaking of Satoru, you haven’t spoken to him since the weekend you went shopping with Shoko and Utahime. He’s reached out to you a few times, sending his normal messages asking you to hang out, all have gone unanswered.

At the school, you’ve done your best to avoid him, picking up missions with Nanami rather than resuming training with Satoru. You’re trying not to let Suguru’s words weigh you down, and to not think too hard about the conversation you had with Shoko and Utahime either. 

Satoru was right, a plethora of people have shown up to meet and greet you, or to check in and see those they know but haven’t seen in some time. Nanami told you this was a great way to network and meet others within their community, more faces to names and people to call, should you ever run into trouble. He arrived with you, pointed out those who work for the school, and those who are within the clans who just ogle you as if you were about to sprout a second head just because they don’t understand what you are

Whoever planned this event really outdid themselves - it’s held in one of the nicer traditional style buildings, in the dining hall with a view out to a lantern lit garden. There’s more food out on trays and platters than you’ve ever seen in your life, more deserts than you ever thought you would lay eyes on too. That part was most likely organized by Satoru, judging by the decadent options, all with little gold flakes in them just for the aesthetic.

And the fact that you’re not speaking with him certainly didn’t deter him from sending someone to your place to pick you up and take you to a day spa hours before the ceremony so you could relax and get your hair and nails done. It was a sweet gesture. You’re trying to not think too much about it.

You’ve been here for hours, in the dining hall, getting gifts from the clans, mainly various types of weapons, and chatting with Nanami, Shoko and Utahime. Suguru arrived a while ago, alone from what you could tell. He hasn’t said much to you, but he did tell you congratulations with that smile that makes his eyes close. Since the night of the mission, you haven’t been able to see him in the same light. Where before you always thought he had a calming aura, now all you can feel is his obvious distaste towards you.

His best friend is nowhere to be seen. You may be currently avoiding him, but you were still hoping to see him here tonight, even if it’s an unfair expectation.

Currently, you’re in the dining hall, listening to two old women from clans you’ve never heard of drone on and on about the best, most eligible bachelors (and a few bachelorette’s) they have to offer. You’re in the black dress you bought from your weekend shopping trip. It didn’t fit quite right when you finally tried it on, so you did end up getting it tailored. Now, it sits on your hips and pinches your waist in the most alluring way, paired with the black strappy heels Satoru found.

When the two ladies first approached you, Nanami came to your side, handing you a drink saying “you’ll need this,” before adjusting his tie and walking away, clearly wanting to have no part in the conversation they were about to put you in.

Plenty of people have been watching you, even more have spoken to you, some with kind smiles and a shake of their hand, others leering at you and eyeing you in ways you’d rather forget. But none have been quite as pushy as these clan matrons.

You silently thank Nanami as they try to one up each other, each showing photos of generic young looking men. They’re attractive, sure, and you probably would have been drooling over one or two of them if you weren’t mentally comparing them to a certain jackass, which you’re kicking yourself for.

One’s hair is too dark, another the wrong shade. Hair too long, too short. Eyes are green rather than blue. With each thought you have, you groan and take a deep drink of your cocktail, pursing your lips when you realize it’s almost finished.

A month ago, you would have been excited for these offers, at the chance to go out, a chance to not worry and let the chips fall where they may with another sorcerer. But now you’re just hurt and confused.

“Sooooo, what’s going on over here?” Satoru asks, interrupting one of the women’s speeches about the blonde haired man with too many piercings and too much eyeliner she’s just shown you. You half expect Satoru to snake his arm around your waist and pull you into him, but he doesn’t. He stands, close still, hands in his pocket with a small smirk spread across his lips. 

He’s in a suit tonight, with a silky black tie to match, obviously tailored to fit him perfectly.

“They’re trying to tell me who’s best to knock me up from their clans, because apparently breeding is all I’m good for.” You answer a little too honestly, courtesy of the cocktails.

Satoru throws his head back in a boisterous laugh catching the attention of too many people, causing the room you’re in to grow just a little quieter, “so, what’s the best offer so far?”

“This conversation does not include you, Gojo-”

“Really? You don’t you think it’s fair for the Gojo's to be able to make an offer as well?” He says slyly, giving his best smile which you can see is making the two women's blood boil, “I mean, given her abilities, you’d want to make sure it’s someone who can fully satisfy her, and keep up with her in the bedroom, yeah? And I can really only think of one person who fits that description.” He says low, but loud enough so they can hear, right in your ear causing shivers down your spine and you wonder if it’s possible to actually die of embarrassment.

The matrons look like they would kill him if they could as one of them clears their throat, “you’ve had plenty of time to try and persuade her yourself but it’s common knowledge she hasn’t chosen you.” Satoru clicks his tongue at their remark. “So we thought it was only fair we offered her our most eligible as well.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a party to celebrate my accomplishments,” You say quietly, gaining their attention, “instead, all anybody has done is try to marry me off or leer at me.”

“I’m surprised they’re even making these offers to you, honestly” Satoru states, “considering the other two clans don’t value those without cursed energy, or really, anyone who doesn’t come from one of the clans.”

“Right, well, you know what?” You turn to look at the matrons, “this whole experience has been terrible and I’m leaving now. Good luck with— whatever this was supposed to be.”

Satoru’s next to you, his long legs easily keeping up with your pace as you walk away from the conversation.

“Everything okay, babe?” He asks casually and you know he means more than just the conversation that was just happening.

You stop walking, groaning in frustration, pinching the bridge of your nose, “I thought you were coming over to save me from that ridiculous conversation they were forcing on me, but instead you just contributed to it. I just- I just want to enjoy my party now, okay? And stop calling me babe.”

He purses his lips together, but he doesn’t follow you when you walk away.

You do appreciate him coming over, even if that was a piss poor attempt at mocking the matrons, but it left you feeling more embarrassed and unwanted than you’ve felt in a long time, not to mention all of your other mixed emotions around Satoru swirling around inside. You’re not sure what you want in life right now, but you sure as hell know you need another drink.

“Nanami. We’re doing shots.” You tell him, taking a seat at the makeshift bar set up for tonight's occasion.

“No.” He’s stern as usual, swirling the dark liquid in his glass around the circular ice cube before drinking the rest as he side-eyes you. Your shoulders are slumped slightly, eyes not as bright as usual.

Nanami surprises you by ordering two shots of whiskey, even though he’s just told you no. He doesn’t ask why, he doesn’t ask what’s wrong, which you appreciate. He clinks his little glass to yours and downs it quickly and you scrunch your nose from the flavor, even if you don’t mean to.

“Can we do another?” You ask after the liquid from the first has had a little time to warm you up, loosen you up and calm you down.

“I suppose. If you deem it necessary.”

You’re not sure how many shots you’ve taken, let alone the number of mixed drinks that have been handed to you since your argument with Satoru, all you know is when he joined in on the last few, you were no longer mad at him.

You know you will be later, but you can’t bring yourself to stay pissed at him now. Not when your body is feeling warm, and fuzzy, feeling more free in this moment than you’ve let yourself be in a long time.

It’s easily been years since you’ve let yourself get drunk, always one to have been careful on how much you have to drink, lest you lose control and wake up surrounded by a pile of bodies on accident.

Luckily, that’s not something you have to worry about right now in a room full of sorcerers.

Shoko’s able to keep up with Nanami’s drinking better than you, but that didn’t stop her from getting drunk herself, coming to you wanting to know what it feels like when you feed, if it’s as intoxicating as Satoru has described.

And you’re drunk enough to oblige, which is why Shoko’s lips are currently latched to yours, tasting an odd combination of coffee, cigarettes and alcohol on her tongue before pulling away with her bottom lip between your teeth.

A small sigh escapes her as your hands roam from her shoulders to her hips, gripping onto the smooth fabric on her dress, pulling your bodies closer together.

Licking a strip up her neck, you latch your lips to hers again, pulling away, draining her in the process. Her eyes widen at the feeling, a shiver running down her spine as your body thrums with electricity.

“That’s enough of that,” you hear Satoru, before you feel his hands on your waist pulling you away from Shoko’s embrace. 

You’re at his place now, him having warped you there when he was pulling you into him, the change of scenery taking you by surprise, “why did you bring me here?”

“Because, not everyone needs to see what you can do.” He says, still holding you close to him as you try to steady your feet, “people get weird about sex curses, couldn’t imagine how they would act around you.”

You look up to him, furrowing your brows to see him grinning down at you, “pretty sure I can handle myself. Been doing it for years before coming here.”

“Yeah, but not all sorcerers can heal themselves, and they certainly won’t be as nice to you as I am, so it’s not safe.”

“Shoko would have been fine.”

His grip on your waist tightens, “it would be weird for you to fuck my friend, and all she wants to do is to use you as her guinea pig.”

“You know, it’s hypocritical of you to get upset when you’re running off with every woman in the city.” You drunkenly slur, poking your finger to his chest, annoyed that he can find a way to cockblock you every chance he gets.

“I’m not running around with anyone.” His brows are furrowed in confusion, words slurred too, having taken several of his own shots, wincing through the taste just as you did, “I just want you to myself, you know?”

“That’s not fair, Satoru. Why do you get to have me to yourself, but I don’t get to have you?” You’re raising your voice, getting upset again, so he puts his hands on your shoulders, eyes flickering between yours.

“You do,” he says quietly, and even though you’re drunk you can feel your heart flutter “can’t even get it up for other women.”

“That’s really embarrassing for you.” You giggle, unable to help yourself at his admission.

He juts out his lower lip dramatically before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into him, grinning again, “you’re so pretty.”

“Stop that,” your whisper is barely audible as you finally push away from him, walking towards his door.

“Where are you going?” He asks, gently grabbing your bicep.

“Home. I’m tired and you’re confusing.”

“Mm, stay here tonight, you’re drunk, I’ll take you back in the morning.”

“Why don’t you just take me home now?”

He shrugs, not giving an answer, it’s a bad idea, you know it, but also fuck it, you’re tired and have no desire to get a cab if he won’t take you back himself. It won't hurt to stay one night, live in the moment for once, even if it’s with someone who’s hurt you. So you kick off your heels and make your way upstairs.

“How do you give a lemon an orgasm?” Satoru asks as the two of you are drunkenly giggling and tripping your way down the hall to his bedroom.

“Oh my god, how? I have to know.” You’re smiling, stumbling into the wall next to the closed door. He never closes the door to his bedroom, but you don’t think too much of it, especially when he wraps his hands around your waist and murmurs in your ear.

“You tickle it’s citrus.” You can feel the way he’s grinning next to the shell of your ear, listening to your laugh as you open the door to a room that is distinctively not his bedroom.

It is a bedroom, set up for two young children, and neat ones judging by the way the room is cleaner than Satoru’s. Each toy is in its place, in the bins against the wall, books put away neatly on a bookshelf, several completed lego sets sit on shelves around the room, laundry near the dressers. Two end tables and lamps next to a small blue bed and slightly larger pink bed which both house several stuffed animals.

You close the door quickly, and quietly before wandering down the hall to his room, wondering why he’s never mentioned them before, but you’re too drunk and too tired to care right now. That’s an argument for another day.

“Normally you’re undressing me, not putting me in more clothes,” you say pressed up against him in his closet on wobbly legs as he helps you out of your dress and into one of his shirts.

He doesn’t answer, just hums with a smile as he holds one hand on your elbow to steady you as his others deftly finishes the last few buttons.

“Are you gonna sleep next to me?” You ask, biting your lip as Satoru helps you get under the silky sheets of his bed.

“No, I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re drunk and I don’t need you tempting me with your womanly wiles.”

You snort out a laugh, sinking into his plush bed, “you’re an idiot.”

He does climb in bed behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist as you push your body back against his. He runs his hand up and down the length of your arm until you’re asleep before he climbs out of his bed, kisses your forehead and leaves the room.

You’re woken by light filtering through your apartment curtains, which is odd because you know you always close them when going to sleep. Your head is pounding right behind your eyes, which you can hardly open due to the overwhelming exhaustion you feel.

Sitting up in bed, you realize you’re far from your own apartment. You’re in Satoru’s bedroom and he’s nowhere to be seen.

Good.

You’re not at his place very often. He’s typically at yours on the nights you hang out, but his looks just the same as the few times you’ve been over. Minimal decorations, clothes and books strewn across the room laying wherever he let them fall.

Except during those past experiences, you’ve woken up feeling great, refreshed and better than ever and right now, you just feel like absolute shit. The churning in your stomach has you out of the bed and in the bathroom in record time, so you can add dizziness to your list of symptoms.

It’s the kind of morning where you throw up three or four times before you’re ready to even consider brushing your teeth, but you eventually get there. While doing so, you notice you’re in one of Satoru’s silky button ups.

“Why am I here?” You groan, walking into Satoru’s kitchen, rubbing your eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. He’s pulling takeout from a bag, setting each container out on the marble counter, the smell making your stomach churn again.

“You look good in my clothes, babe,” he grins, looking at you with tired eyes, “you were pretty drunk, thought it was better for you to stay so I could keep an eye on you.”

“I– did we…?” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to settle your stomach. There’s not a lot you remember about last night. Last thing you do remember is getting upset with Satoru and talking Nanami into taking several shots with you, only to learn the hard way he can drink you under the table.

“Nope.”

He slides you a plate of food before taking a seat at the stool next to you, his own breakfast in front of him. The nausea doesn’t dissipate with the food so close, so you push it away, folding your arms on the counter and resting your head on them.

“What happened last night?”

Satoru chuckles, taking a bite of his pancakes, “you drank enough to drown a horse. It was impressive to watch, really. You tried draining Shoko, so I brought you back here.”

You look at him confused before bits and pieces of last night come back to you, mainly the memory of walking into the wrong room and the tiny beds that occupy that space.

“You have kids?” You ask quietly, watching his reaction.

“Yeah.” He answers easily before sighing, clearly hoping you wouldn’t remember that part.

“This is too much. You’re too much.”

“It wasn’t a big deal last night, why is it a big deal now?” He questions.

“If it wasn’t a big deal, then why didn’t you just tell me? I thought your clan valued kids, no matter the circumstance, hiding them is just as bad as what you accused the other clans of last night.”

“That’s the stupidest argument to make, you know? Megumi has a cursed technique that rivals my own, and I-”

“I don’t know how you expect me to know any of this without you telling me.”

Suguru was right, you really don’t know anything about Satoru. You let him in, let him become someone you care about, and suddenly the weight of your own decisions are hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Trying to ignore and push past what Suguru told you, still not entirely sure that what he said is the whole truth, but clearly Satoru isn’t forthcoming with information about his life. So why couldn’t what Suguru said be true?

“Oh, come on,” he says as you’re putting on your shoes, already having gotten changed back into last night's dress, gently grabbing your arm “you’re mad because I didn’t tell you I have kids, that’s a pretty big thing to drop on someone, don’t you think?”

“I’m mad for so much more than just that, Satoru. I’m mad because I don’t get to have normal relationships and every time an opportunity has presented itself for me to try, you’ve put yourself between me and them because you haven’t taken the time to understand what it’s like to be me. And yes, I’m mad that I’ve let you into every aspect of my life, but I don’t get to know the basics of yours.”

Maybe Utahime is right, you shouldn’t let yourself be tethered to him any longer.

“So, as for this,” you point between the two of you, “this is over. I just can’t anymore.”

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