#this campaign will be started after we finish one or two of the monday shorts

[sgkophie]

Man's World - Chapter 13 - If Looks Could Kill 

(Photo Credit to that LOVELY GQ article - Photographer, Jack Bridgland)

Pairing: Female!Leclerc reader x Carlos Sainz Jr, Carlos Sainz x reader

Warnings: language, fluff, angst

AN: So sorry this is a little late guys... I was just so unsure about this chapter, and I wasn't happy with how it was ending, so I decided to break up this chapter into two different chapters- so NEXT chapter will feature the Majorca vacation (which will be a fun one!)... I decided it deserved its own chapter, and I think you'll all agree on Monday!!! <3

Next chapter will be Monday/Tuesday so you won't have to wait too long, promise! I've already started writing it and its all outlined :)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5500

Short Synopsis: Enemies to lovers with Carlos. <3

Check out the full intro synopsis + full story master list here!

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Monday Morning After Monaco Race – Carlos POV

I woke up the next morning to my phone buzzing on the bedside table. As I leaned over, I saw a text from Charles pop up on the screen. Apparently he, Pierre, Danny plus Georgia’s brothers were all coming over for a surprise brunch and they wanted to know if Georgia was awake. Considering it was 8:30am, I was surprised they were awake. Who wakes up that early after a race weekend? 

Truth is, after last night, I had struggled to go to sleep. After I walked out of Georgia’s room, I hopped straight into shower and finished myself off. It was nothing like Georgia’s mouth had been last week, but it would have to do. It took all of my energy and self perseverance to leave her room last night. When I saw her reach out to me, I wanted nothing more than to stay. I wanted to rip that bra off of her and make her see stars all night as a reward for winning. But in that moment, I let my pride get the better of me. I stood up and walked out, letting her know that we were even. 

But we weren’t even. Georgia was all over my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, her touch, her lips… Even after last night, it felt like she was winning this game of cat and mouse. 

It’s fine, I thought to myself, I have Majorca to regain control. Nothing but sand, sea and Georgia in a bikini on my family yacht. I smirked a bit to myself at that. She was truly beautiful, and I had most definitely selected Majorca so I could see her out in the sun, her beautiful skin on display. Before that, however, I had to survive the Louis Vuitton photoshoot. Somehow it had turned into a GQ photoshoot, with Louis Vuitton sponsoring the clothes. The photos would be used in both the magazine and for the new clothing campaign. I’d done several shoots like this for Ferrari before, but this felt different. I’d have to constantly aware throughout this photoshoot, always checking over my shoulder to see who was watching me and Georgia interact. For the first time, we’d have to be a real couple for several hours in public. 

Sure in the paddock we had to pretend to be a real couple, but most of the time we were working or with friends and other drivers. Rarely were we alone with strangers, having to put on a charade for hours. 

Still, a secret part of me deep down was pleased. For the first time, I’d get an entire day with Georgia where she’d have to act like my girlfriend. I’d missed the opportunity all those years ago to make it real – so now I’d have to live with the fake thing.

Another 30 minutes passed and then I saw a text from Charles alerting me that he and Pierre would be there in 30 minutes to get the brunch set up. He’d told Georgia to be ready for a coffee date with himself, and then he would surprise her by bringing in several uninvited people into her home. 

I laughed at that – sometimes I felt like Charles didn’t know his own twin. While Georgia was social with her friends, she also valued her privacy, and she never struck me for a surprise party kind of person – even if it was with close friends and family. Yesterday was exhausting and it were me, the idea of having several people sprung on me all of a sudden would be horrendous. Still, I wasn’t going to tell Charles that. If there’s one thing Charles liked to make clear, its that he new his Peaches the best, and everyone else was literal dirt compared to him when it came to her.

Sometimes I wondered if that’s why I wanted her to like me so much… I loved how much the idea of me dating her got under his skin. He hated the idea from the start. It’s why I loved to drop hints that maybe we were more. Charles was many things – a good friend, included – but his propensity to always need to be first, his competitiveness, was also his greatest weakness. 

After I hopped in the shower and got ready, I ventured out of my room and there was Georgia, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, reading the latest issue of GQ magazine. So, they had told her we’d be featured in the next issue.  She looked ready to go out, and I felt some pity for her. Little did she know in all of two minutes Charles and Pierre were going to come bursting through the door, followed by several other people, invading her home. 

I cleared my throat and she looked up, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Morning,” she said cheerily, taking another sip of her coffee. I could tell she was trying to seem as normal as possible. 

So we are going to ignore last night. That’s fine, I thought to myself.

“Morning – sleep well?” I asked, sitting down on the couch across from hers and giving her a wide grin. She ignored my question, and went back to reading her magazine. 

Another second went by and then we both heard a knock at the door. Georgia yelled for Charles to come in, and went back to reading her magazine. I kept my eyes on her the whole time, not wanting to miss her priceless expression when she saw a group of hooligans walk into the apartment. 

And oh boy, she did not disappoint. 

As Charles opened the door, in walked Charles, Pierre, and Daniel Ricciardo with what looked like 20 balloons and 6 bags of food from Georgia’s favorite restaurant and bakery. 

If looks could kill, hers would have slaughtered the entire paddock. 

But just as quickly as she could, her face turned to the biggest, lightest, most cheerful composure I think I had ever seen. Oh come on Georgia, now they’re going to know its fake, I thought to myself. But, of course, they didn’t. Charles walked up to his sister and gave her a massive hug, eating up her grin and fake excitement, as if that was the best breakfast in the world. 

“Surprise!” Daniel yelled, picking Georgia up and swinging her around the living room like a rag doll. Georgia hugged him back and thanked them. 

“Wow, I didn’t expect this,” She said cheerfully, but her eyes told a different story. Her eyes shifted me to mine, as if to accuse me of knowing. 

I gave her the biggest smile I could plaster onto my face and replied, “What a lovely surprise your brother planned. All by himself.” Charles beamed when I said that, and I gave him a pat on the back. I knew Georgia would get the hint. A few moments later Lorenzo, Lily and Arthur walked into the flat, more balloons and flowers for Georgia. It was starting to look like a circus in here, and Georgia was the main act. 

Before Pierre could take a seat next to Georgia at the table, I took the spot to her right, forcing Pierre to sit across from her. I could see from a quick glance, he was annoyed at me, but I didn’t care. I was petty and proud. Something about the two of them irked me to no end. I knew they had history, but after the skirmish with Charles, I felt like Pierre had other intentions when he told me about him and Georgia. Had he known I had asked Georgia out all those years ago? Was he marking his territory? I couldn’t blame him if he was, Georgia was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women I had seen. 

Still, they were’t together, and I had to remember that. It wasn’t Pierre that made her see stars last night, it was me. 

As the brunch started to come to an end, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Charles was behind me. “Hey, you got a minute?” he asked casually, although he looked nervous. I nodded and stepped away from the table, following him to Georgia’s balcony outside. 

“Whats up?” I asked, leaning on the balcony railing, my eyes drifting off to the water.

“So, I- uhh – just wanted to see what was going on between you and my sister.” 

I took in a deep breath, and then turned to face him directly, making eye contact with his hazel eyes. 

“What do you mean what is going on with your sister?” I was a little taken aback by his questions, although I guess after my comment over the weekend about seeing his sister naked, I should have expected it. 

“I see the way you look at her. Back on Saturday before qualifying-” He paused for a moment, as if he was contemplating what to say, before continuing on, “the way you and her were all snuggled up together, it made me concerned.” 

“Concerned?” I asked lowly. Truthfully, I wanted to say more than that, but I was really curious where Charles was going with this. 

He sighed. “Look, Carlos, I’ll just spit it out. Me and you, we’ve always be honest with one another so here’s the truth. I can see my sister starting to fall for you.” 

I scoffed a bit at his comment and looked away, my eyes floating back to the ocean. I could feel my heart leap just a bit inside of me, but I stuffed it back down. Charles had already proven today he didn’t know his sister as well as he thought. There was no way Georgia Leclerc was falling for me – not after I broke her trust the first time. I could tell she could barely stand to be in a room with me.

Before I could get a word in, he continued on, “She falls hard and fast for people. And after that asshole she dated back in America, I don’t want her to get hurt again. This might be a fake relationship for you, but I’m worried she might start to see it as more.” 

I wanted to stop myself – I knew this was a stupid thing to ask, but in that moment, I couldn’t help myself. “And dating me would be so bad?” I bit out. 

“Carlos…. Come on, man, you’ve never been a serious dater. You said yourself at the beginning of the season that you didn’t want anything serious for another few years. Georgia… she isn’t like that, she doesn’t do casual.” I could tell he was trying to be nice about it, but the tone of his voice was almost pleading. 

My blood began to boil. How dare he assume what I wanted. How dare he assume what Georgia wanted. 

“I just don’t want you to lead her on is all. She wants something real, something long term. Plus, my teammate actually dating my sister… I mean, would you like it if I dated your sister?” The truth was, I didn’t like Charles at all right now – and the thought of him dating my sister made me want to punch him. 

I eyed him wearily, not really knowing how to respond to this attack. Based on Charles’ tone, he clearly didn’t know I had asked Georgia out all those years ago, or this conversation would have been a lot worse. I knew at this moment I had two options. I could escalate this argument, but then if what Charles said was true, and Georgia was actually starting to fall for me, I knew I would lose any chance I could possibly have with her. 

Or, I could grin it and bear it for now – and make Charles squirm later. 

It took every piece of me not to escalate the conversation, but I knew the latter option would be more satisfying in the end. Charles couldn’t control how we acted in public; I mean we were supposed to be dating each other. 

“The only thing going on, is that Ferrari have insisted I date your sister, if you don’t like that, I suggest you take it up with Mattia,” I said – probably with a little bit more malice than intended, but no one accused me of being perfect. 

Before Charles could respond to that, I plastered that big smile back on my face and slapped Charles on the back, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him closer to me. “But don’t worry mate, I’ll be sure to keep my irresistible charm and good looks in check next week in Majorca. I mean, your sister is much too intelligent to fall for a man just because he has a yacht off the coast of Spain, right? ” I added with a grin and a wink. 

As soon as the words were uttered from my mouth, I walked away, knowing full well that Charles was now contemplating how he could get himself invited on our mini vacation next weekend. The image of his sister in a bathing suit on my yacht, clearly etched into his mind.

Good. 

Georgia POV – Louis Vuitton Photoshoot Day

Carlos and I were instructed to meet in Milan on Tuesday. After the surprise brunch on Monday, I felt like I needed a day to myself, but unfortunately Lizzie insisted we had to be there as soon as possible. Louis Vuitton were eager to get their photos taken and the partnership with GQ was to too good to pass up. 

Truth was I was slightly annoyed after the brunch on Monday. I knew Charles had meant well, but the race was enough socialization for a lifetime- I didn’t need a bunch of people being dragged to my safe haven, it was bad enough that Carlos was there all the time. Although, truthfully, Carlos was the least annoying person at that party. Unlike everyone else, he gave me the space I was craving on Monday. On the plane ride to Madrid, we barely said two sentences to each other.

After the photoshoot, Carlos and I were to spend the evening in Madrid. I assumed that Carlos had booked us a fancy dinner somewhere, although I wanted nothing more than to crash that evening in his guest room. Still, Lizzie was clear, we needed to make this part of our relationship look real – and what was more real than a big fancy date with F1’s most eligible bachelor. After that, we’d head to Majorca with his family on Wednesday – Charles, Lorenzo, and Lily would meet us on Thursday. I wasn’t sure why Charles was so insistent on coming on this vacation, but I was happy to be able to spend time with my brother. Pierre, Danny and Lando were on Lando’s yacht as well, and Carlos said we’d probably meet up with them over the weekend.  

As much as I wanted some time alone – time to myself – I was excited have a vacation. Carlos’ family were incredibly sweet and charming, and it would be nice to spend some time away from the F1 world and prying lives of the fans. Lizzie had asked that we take several photos and post them on our Instagram pages, since we’d be so far away from journalists and photographers. She didn’t want our relationship to ‘get lost in the shuffle’ – whatever that meant. 

Once we touched down in Madrid, we hopped into the private limousine that Louis Vuitton had sent to pick us up. Inside the car was a small bottle of champagne, which Carlos quickly opened and poured for us. I thanked him quietly, trying, and failing, to put a small smile on my face.

I had never done a photoshoot like this before, and as we started to get closer to the offices, I could myself getting even more nervous. I hoped that I was hiding it well, but considering Carlos kept shifting his eyes onto me, I could tell that I wasn’t hiding it well. 

Great, just another reason why Carlos thinks I’m an idiot, I though to myself, a little embarrassed.  I was a Formula 1 driver who raced the fastest race cars on earth, and here I was scared of a little photoshoot. 

As the driver pulled up to the front of the beautiful Madrid office, a coordinator from both Louis Vuitton and GQ was waiting for us at the front. Carlos got out of the car first, and then held his hand out for me, helping me out of the car. I tried not to roll my eyes too much. I could get out of a car by myself – my incompetence was around journalists, not cars, I thought to myself. Still, this was Madrid – a city that felt more old school and traditional, so I took accepted his hand and got out of the car. 

“Good morning!” The voice came from the Louis Vuitton coordinator, whose name was Lilah. Apparently she was to be our escort for the day. More like prison ward, I thought to myself. Carlos and I both exchanged good mornings back to her, and after a round of small chit chat, we began to make our way inside of the building. The building was absolutely incredible on the inside. As you walked in, the offices had a huge marbled staircase that led you up to some of the executive offices. As we walked by they had various outfits throughout the years that they had designed for movie sets and royalty alike in glass enclosures. I stopped in front of one. It was a dress they had made for Grace Kelly, the American actress who had moved to Monaco. 

“It must be so neat to work here,” I said to Lilah. 

“Oh yes… it’s truly a dream come true,” she agreed, a huge smile on her face. As we continued to walk we were shuffled into a room that looked like a break room. It had sodas, snacks and coffee laid out on a small table surrounded by some nicely decorated couches and furniture. After a cup of coffee and a breakfast bar, Carlos and I were introduced to the photographer, writer and stylist that we would be working with throughout the day. 

After introductions, Carlos and I were shuffled into different rooms to try on various pieces of clothing. GQ had sent a writer to hang out with us during the shoot, so as we got ready and went between rounds of photo, Mark, our assigned writer, would sit and chat with us – get to know as, as he said. He felt as though he could see the ‘real us’ – his words, not mine – when we were interacting with each other on set. 

That, of course, was my fear. Nothing about the Georgia being photographed on set really said ‘hey, this young lady is doing well mentally.’ Not exactly the Georgia Bugatti was looking to feature in the magazine. 

As I came out of the dressing room in my first outfit, I saw Carlos already in the photoshoot studio, chatting away to the journalist and photographer, charmig them no doubt. As I walked in, I heard a wolf whistle come out of Carlos’ mouth. I let out a small smile and rolled my eyes, feeling a little bit of heat rush to my cheeks. Carlos was in a beautifully tailored suit. His hair was nicely combed and slicked back a bit, but the fluffiness was still on full display. He reached out his hand and I took it. He let his gaze go slowly up and down my body, probably a little too obviously, but I knew he wanted the journalist and photographer to catch that. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered – loudly enough for the entire room to hear. I blushed a bit and nodded. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Sainz. Much better than those Ferrari suits Mattia always put you in,” I joked. I let out a small smile, and then turned back to the photographer, my eyes on the ground. I could feel my hands begin to sweat, and I decided that looking at the ground was much easier, less I say something stupid. 

All of a sudden I felt a hand interlock with mine, and I looked up, turning slightly towards Carlos. He was still chatting away with the photographer, but he squeezed my hand just a little bit harder. I hated to admit it, but I felt a rush of relief go through me. I began to relax my shoulders a bit, and then looked up at the photographer and smiled, trying to at least pretend to be involved in the conversation, even if I hadn’t said a word.

We chatted a bit more about the poses they wanted us to do; some of the photos would be both of us and some of them would be individual shots. Fortunately Lilah was there to help the photographer and explain more of what he wanted. As Carlos was taking his individual shots, Mark approached me, a huge grin on his face, and I knew he wanted something. That pang of anxiety that had started to leave my body quickly returned, and I could feel my back stiffen up. 

“So Georgia, that win in Monaco – quite spectacular, if I do say so myself.” And he did - clearly. “For Carlos to win his home race, and then you to win your own. You really are quite the Formula 1 power couple right now.” I wasn’t sure if there was a question hidden in there somewhere, so I just nodded, trying to keep my eyes on Carlos’ photoshoot, silently begging for it to be over soon so he could relieve me from this nightmare. 

“It’s been an exciting couple of weeks,” I responded, trying to find my voice in the process. Mark was so intently looking at me, as if he was observing every movement I was making. I felt as though his eyes were piercing my soul, trying to read all of my deepest and most private thoughts. 

“Tell me, the world sees you and Carlos at these races, you both walk around hand in hand, but you spend most of the time in your own garages and prepping for the races or meeting with sponsors who have flown in. What does Georgia and Carlos look like off the track? What does a boring Wednesday look like in your lives?” 

Ahh – the question I knew was coming eventually. I let my eyes glance one more time at Carlos, who was still going through the photoshoot stills. He was trying to decide which one made his eyes pop more, if I knew Carlos. I took a deep breath. I could answer this alone, who needed Carlos anyway.

“We’re like any other couple,” I said simply. 

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that. What do you do for fun? How do you guys relax?” 

The more I thought about those questions, the more I realized I didn’t actually know. What did Carlos do for fun? I thought back to all of our conversations in the paddock and at the hotels. We hadn’t discussed much else besides racing. 

“We like to play chess,” I responded finally, feeling better about my answer. “Carlos is an amazing player, we often try to sneak away and play in the garages when we have time. As for at home… we really do live simply when we’re together. We like to go on walks, or make dinner together. Carlos loves mac and cheese – it’s his favorite food, so we’ll often go to a local grocery and get the ingredients and just open a delightful bottle of red and make pasta together.” 

I thought that answer was quite good, but Mark just continued to write into his stupid little notebook, not even looking up at me. I guess to be fair, what 28 year old man liked to make mac and cheese for dinner. Who was going to believe that nonsense?

Before Mark could respond to comment, Carlos had returned, and he could see I was in distress. “Cariño, are you telling the world bout my embarrassing love for mac and cheese,” he scolded gently. I giggled in response, lifting my cheek up for a kiss on my cheek when he leaned down to provide one.  

“Your girlfriend was just telling us about how you guys make pasta together in your free time,” Mark added, no doubt looking for Carlos’ reaction to see if he would be surprised at that comment. But Carlos, ever the smooth operator, could not be fooled. 

“Did she tell you that she prefers her brothers bolognaise compared to my mac and cheese,” he quipped to Mark, winking at the journalist in the process, letting out a laugh. “I try not to take offense, I mean Charles does make a delightful SpagBowl but I would argue it’s not as good as my fresh mac and cheese.” 

Carlos looked quite proud of himself at that statement. In that moment, I wondered if he actually made a good mac and cheese. Not sure why, it’s not like Carlos and I actually spent alone time together like that. For some reason, my heart panged a bit at that thought, but I decided to push that feeling deep down. Instead, I rolled my eyes at him, grabbing his arm and leaning onto him a bit, looking up and batting my eyelashes at him. Lizzie had made a point to tell me I needed to flirt with Carlos during the interview. Apparently, my flirting needed work. 

Whatever, Lizzie. 

“Love it – a couple who cooks together, stays together my mum used to say,” Mark chimed in. “So, how has it been with your brother, Georgia? I know last weekend was probably a little tough for you.” 

“You know, it was tough, because we both love that circuit so much and wanted to win. But being able to share the podium with my brother was amazing – something I’ll remember for a lifetime.” 

“Sure,” he said, clearly not that interested in my answer, “So Carlos, how is it dating your teammates sister? Any arguments yet?” 

I looked over at Carlos, and there was a slight twitch in his mouth, which he quickly replaced with a smile and a nod. “Honestly, no,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m almost surprised at how supportive he is of our relationship. Sometimes it seems suspicious,” he added with a grin. 

“Oh?” Mark asked, curious by Carlos last statement. 

“He’s just always asking about what dates we’ll go on next and telling me about all the cute things Georgia sends him about me,” he added with a smug grin. I felt myself dying a bit inside, but rolled my eyes at him playfully. “I once joked that he was making me nervous to date his sister. I mean I think she’s beautiful and amazing, that’s easy to see, so why is Charles pushing her on me so much? Asked him if she had any skeletons in her closet.” Both Mark and Carlos laughed at that while I sat there, trying not to be awkward. Carlos stuck out his tongue at me, and I shoved him a bit. “He didn’t find it quite as funny,” Carlos added. 

“Oh please, Sainz, if anyone has skeletons in their closet, its you. Don’t even get me started about how you once scolded a goose on the golf course and had to run away because it started to chase you,” I teased.   “Someone’s a little afraid of birds,” I whispered to Mark, winking at Carlos. 

Mark laughed along with us as we told more stories. I started to feel more at ease, which was nice. Carlos and I were ushered into the changings rooms and we went through another 3 rounds of clothing, before being told that this would be the last photo grouping of the day, which would be the two of us together. The designer had dressed me in a tiny, black evening dress that had a low back, while Carlos was once again in a suit, although this time his shirt was buttoned halfway down his chest, exposing the top of his abs.  

“Lovely, lovely,” Lilah called out to us, “but let’s trying something a little different. Have a little fun. Georgia, face towards Carlos, showing us your back and Carlos, rest your hand on Georgia’s lower back a bit. Now look at each other and stare deeply into each other’s eyes.” 

As we did the motions, I felt Carlos grip my lower back tightly and look down at me with those big brown eyes. He pulled me closer to him, my body was now flush with his front, my hands on his chest. All of a sudden this photoshoot felt a lot more romantic than I had anticipated. His face was soft, and he let out a little encouraging smile when he looked down at me. It’s as if Carlos could tell I was still feeling uncomfortable from the forced movements instructed by the photographer, because when he leaned down, he got closer to my ear and whispered, “Why so shy, Princesa. You weren’t this shy Sunday evening.” 

As soon as he said the words, I looked up and saw a little smirk on his lips; Carlos was now turned to the photographer, a smug grin still on his lips. I went to say something back to him, but in the distance I heard the photographer call out, “Lovely Georgia – much better, you look so relaxed.”

Did I? In my frustration towards Carlos’ cheekiness, I had forgotten about the photographer and writer, and Carlos knew that when he’d said the comment. He always knew how to get a rile out of me, just like I had done in Barcelona when he was nervous about the speech. Apparently this was becoming our thing. I shifted a bit and looked at Carlos, who was still staring at the photographer, although the smirk on his face seemed even bigger than before. 

I’m not sure what came over me, but all I wanted was to wipe that smirk off his face, and there was only one way I could think of doing that. Before I could stop myself – and truly see reason –I hopped up on my tippy toes and pressed my lips to Carlos, putting my hands on his face and pulling him into the kiss. He looked a little shocked at first, but then started to deepen the kiss, letting his hands graze the top of my ass. As we kept on kissing, I heard more cheers and celebratory laughs from the growing Louis Vuitton crowd. 

Carlos parted our lips for a moment, and then picked me up in his arms, bridal style. I let out a screech and a giggle as I tried to make sure my ass wasn’t out on display. Our lips connected again, and this time I found myself deepening the kiss. It’s as if everyone else in the room started to disappear, and it was just me and Carlos in the room. I could hear Lilah also chuckle a bit, as the photographer continued to take photos of us. 

“Alright you two love birds!” Lilah called out. “That’s a wrap!” I quickly parted from Carlos, and he put me back down on my legs. I toppled over a bit, steadying myself in the process. My cheeks were undoubtedly flushed from the long make out session with Carlos. As I looked around the room, I felt horrified for a moment. Had I just made out with Carlos in front of all these people? 

For some reason in the moment, it didn’t seem so terrible but now – now I felt mortified at the thought. Carlos looked down at me and smiled, grabbing my hands and pulling them up to his chest. “Sorry, Lilah, just can’t help myself sometime – it’s in my nature,” he grinned, pulling my hand to his lips and giving it a kiss.

“You too are too much!” Lilah exclaimed, clapping her hands together in joy. “I cannot WAIT to see how these photos look.” 

Mark, still sitting next to the photographer stood up and smiled, his notebook in his hands. “You know, I came in, trying to see if the chemistry was really there between the two of you – you seem like such an odd pairing, but after today, I can really see that it is. Good luck you too – I’ll be sure to have several copies sent to your offices.” 

And with that, the photoshoot and article was over. 

*************

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[f1]

Horner lauds Red Bull for phenomenal start to 2023 but expects rivals to come back hard in future races

Christian Horner was understandably delighted by Red Bull’s performance at the season opening Bahrain Grand Prix, as drivers Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez bagged a one-two result – though he has vowed to keep the team’s feet firmly on the ground moving forward. One year on from their painful double retirement in the Sakhir desert, Red Bull turned the tables with a dominant performance to convert a front-row lockout into maximum points (aside from the fastest lap bonus) and start their double title defence in style. READ MORE: Verstappen says winning start to 2023 for himself and Red Bull is ‘exactly what we were dreaming of’ While Verstappen led home Perez by just over 10 seconds, their nearest rival – Aston Martin’s Fernando Alonso – was more than half a minute adrift, followed by the distant lead Ferrari and Mercedes cars of Carlos Sainz and Lewis Hamilton. “[It was] a phenomenal performance by the whole team [and] back at base to provide a competitive car like we’ve got to start here,” said Horner, before opening up on how Red Bull delivered such a commanding display in the opening race. This feature is currently not available because you need to provide consent to functional cookies. Please update your cookie preferences 2023 Bahrain Grand Prix: Verstappen crosses the line to seal dominant victory in season opener “We focused probably a little more on the race than we did on quali, and that paid its dividends today. We were able to run on the softer [tyre] compound, particularly in the middle part of the race, and still have the durability. “It was a well-executed Grand Prix and, after last year, coming away with zero points, to have 43 on the board feels like a good response.” MONDAY MORNING DEBRIEF: How Red Bull’s unique strategy helped seal their dominant 1-2 in Bahrain Horner was quick to stress, however, that Red Bull will not be getting carried away with their early one-two – and margin of victory – as F1 swiftly moves on to two very different tracks in the form of Saudi Arabia’s Jeddah Corniche Circuit and Australia’s Albert Park. “I think the problem is, we’ve only got one data set, which is at this track – we’re not taking anything for granted,” Horner commented. It was all smiles for Red Bull as they started the 2023 season with a one-two finish “Let’s see in Jeddah in two weeks, Melbourne after that. I think once we’ve got two or three circuits under our belt, we’ll get a much better picture of strengths and weaknesses of our car and our opposition.” Pushed about predictions that Red Bull could win all 23 races this season, Horner described the campaign as a “marathon” and said he “fully expects” rival teams “to come back hard” at future races, noting the threat posed by several teams. READ MORE: Perez says losing P2 at the start meant 'game over' for his victory hopes in Bahrain “People have a very short memory in this business. You’re as good as your last race. Today we’re heroes, tomorrow it could be Ferrari, it could be Mercedes, it could be Aston Martin,” he summed up. Red Bull leave the opening round with a 20-point lead over Aston Martin in the constructors’ standings, while Verstappen leads team mate Perez by seven points in the drivers’ battle. via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

#F1 #Horner lauds Red Bull for ‘phenomenal’ start to 2023 but expects rivals ‘to come back hard’ in future races #Formula 1

[college-girl199328]

The first week of Toronto's mayoral byelection was packed with campaign events and proposals predicted to give way to fiery attacks as candidates fight to gain ground.

The official campaign is less than a week old a pack of over 30 contenders to replace John Tory. But experts closely following city politics say that no one has the name recognition of Toronto's former mayor. That means they'll need to spend big and make bold policy statements to get one of the voters.

"I'd say fasten your seat belts be a mayoral election like no other," said Toronto Metropolitan University political science professor Myer Siemiatycki.

"And I think there'll be twists and turns." Tory resigned suddenly in February after admitting to an affair with a former staffer. His shocking departure has triggered a short byelection which kicked off on Monday with the opening of candidate registration. But the next few weeks will be critical for candidates as they try to edge into the lead and force other mayoral hopefuls who might siphon away their support.

Former city councillor Joe Mihevc said candidates are trying to determine if they can make a serious run. Some may find they can't do it and drop out before the May 12 registration deadline.

"This period is like a Democrat or Republican (primary) in the US, where you're just kicking the tires, you're seeing who's got what playing the field," he said. "It's not really that race to the finish line."

But Mihevc said he expects even the early campaigning could get nasty over the next few weeks as some try to knock rivals out of the race up their support and clear a path to the mayor's office.

"It's going to get aggressive, in fact, distastefully aggressive," Mihevc said. "You [can] just see it and start to smell it even point. And that's, frankly, unfortunate."

Zachary Spicer, an associate professor of political science at York University, could be a rough-packed field for a few months to attacks to get attention.

"With the speed that you have to knock opponents out, I think it's going be quite nasty," he said. Spicer expects the first few weeks of the race to be intense as candidates announce policy, find wedges between themselves and others in the race, and build their name recognition. Then, the later half of the campaign will focus on a handful of front-runners, he said.

"As the campaign progresses, we may begin focusing on two or three that have a legitimate shot to win," he said. Andrew Tumilty, a senior consultant with Enterprise Canada, said candidates will need well–organized campaign machines behind them to mount a viable campaign. That means experienced strategists, volunteer staff to knock on doors, and the capacity to fundraise, he said.

"The standard thinking for the last few campaigns is that you need to be able to fundraise somewhere in the neighbourhood of a million dollars to run a credible campaign," Tumilty told CBC Radio's Metro Morning this week.

"And we have a shorter timeframe, considerably, this time. But you still need to reach almost the same number of people in that time. So it might be less, but much."

Tumilty, the war room director for John Tory's last two campaigns for mayor, said candidates will be trying to find an issue of their own that resonates with voters.

This election also seems poised to be about a wide variety of issues. Public safety is top of mind for many after a string of violent attacks on the TTC. Candidates have already proposed policies for mental health and homelessness in the city.

The debate over whether candidates will use the so-called "strong mayor" powers that give the mayor a budget veto will continue. Toronto's fiscal position will with a 1.5 billion budget gap looming this year.

"There are probably as many issues as there are people the race," Mihevc said. Several former city councillors and public figures have jumped into the byelection.

Former city councillor Ana Bailão has entered the race, as have current city councillors Brad Bradford and Josh Matlow. Former Toronto police chief Mark Saunders and so is Scarborough Guildwood MPP Mitzie Hunter.

Former federal MP Celina Caesar-Chavannes and journalist Anthony Furey the race this week. Former MP and mayoral candidate Olivia Chow is said to be considering a run for the mayor's office but has not registered.

"Each candidate is going to try, as they must, to pump themselves up as the saviour of Toronto, in some ways that will entail taking shots at other candidates," Siemiatycki said. "And I think to be a noisy and combative campaign."

[pocketbullfinch]

Spending this late evening writing out some of the backstory for my shadow sorcerer changeling, Rut. 

Normally my backstories are a handful of paragraphs, or aprox one and half pages... this one is already on third page... but then normally the games are not planned to be whole Campaigns going from 1st to 20th lvl... and I may have found the state of mind for writing tonight. Who knows.

#she's so young #Rut #this campaign will be started after we finish one or two of the monday shorts #one of which is supposed to happen next week #it's Demofre's game #I prob should write down what has happened to her during the last 24 hours #she's not totally broken yet #Demofre #sorcerer #changeling #curious to know #if you read this #what kinda backstories do you write for your pcs?

[aus-wnt]

‘We need to win this’: Matildas set great expectations for Asian Cup

Ellie Carpenter has embraced the heightened expectations around the Matildas, declaring the team’s ambition to not only win the Asian Cup for the first time in over a decade but keep clean sheets while doing it.

Carpenter and her teammates are preparing to fly to India on Monday, having spent the last week in a pre-tournament camp in Dubai where coach Tony Gustavsson has been putting the final touches on their preparations.

Gustavsson endured a rollercoaster first year in the job in 2021 - while he guided Australia to their best finish at the Olympics, the team won only three of 16 games, and held their opponents scoreless just twice.

The Asian Cup, which starts for Australia on Friday night (Sydney time) against Indonesia looms as a pivotal moment for the Swede.

The Matildas have won it only once before, in 2010, and anything short of an appearance in the final on February 6 in Navi Mumbai would rightly be considered a failure, which could have consequences for his tenure in the job despite strong ongoing support from Football Australia.

Carpenter, who was part of the team that lost the 2018 final to Japan under then-boss Alen Stajcic, said the team was aiming high.

“We haven’t won it since 2010, the Asian Cup, and I think all of us girls know that we need to win this. We know that we can if we play our best football and bring what we brought during the Olympics to every game here,” she said.

“Off the back of our Olympic campaign, coming fourth, I think there’s a little bit of expectation for us to win this Asian Cup. We should win this Asian Cup. That expectation is there and it’s good for us, we want to win tournaments, we want to win trophies. We want to put that pressure on ourselves to be able to win this and back up good performances after good performances.

“We want to bring that trophy home.”

While the team is now in what Gustavsson calls “tournament mode”, most of the matches that triggered concern over Australia’s defence occurred in friendlies where he was experimenting with different personnel and structures in a bid to find greater squad depth.

At times, Carpenter - who plays for Olympique Lyonnais and is considered one of the world’s best fullbacks - has been played as a central defender.

“The last couple of games, we were testing out a few new players along the backline. We were testing things out, bringing some new players in, finding some depth. I think this squad for the Asian Cup is one of our strongest yet,” she said.

“This is a tournament now, so we’re ready, and one of our goals this tournament is to keep clean sheets. Us defenders know that. We’re getting down to business in this tournament.”

There are some fresh faces around the team, with inexperienced quartet Cortnee Vine, Holly McNamara, Karly Roestbakken and Winonah Heatley competing for the final two spots in Australia’s 23-strong selection for the Asian Cup.

There is also a new face on Gustavsson’s coaching staff. He has appointed compatriot Jens Fjellström, a former player-turned-pundit who has had stints as an analyst and scout with the Danish national team and Malmö FF, as an assistant.

“Bringing some new faces in like Jens, our new assistant coach, [means] some new tactics and new words there we haven’t had before. It’s a nice refresher,” Carpenter said.

“He’s very intelligent. He’s worked with a lot of world-class teams over the past few years, and he knows his stuff. He’s really good for our team, bringing that extra analytics and ways to beat teams and what makes us the best team to win.

“His insight is really important for us, especially in tournament mode - anything can happen in a tournament but if you’re prepared for pretty much everything, we’re just going to give ourselves the best shot.”

By Vince Rugari

#Ellie Carpenter #Matildas #AUSWNT #Asian Cup 2022

[idreamofplaid]

It Begins

Square Filled: Tongue Fucking for @spnkinkbingo & Singing Christmas Songs for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Sam x Olivia (OFC); Jensen and John mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Oral (female receiving)

Summary: Olivia is new to the marketing firm owned by John Winchester, and is surprised to be assigned to an important ad campaign for a high profile client. She feels like she’s in over her head with the work, but she’s in even deeper with the boss’ son, Sam.

Word Count:3781

A/N: This is Part 1 of a Series called Surrender to the Truth. It’s an AU mash up of RPF and SPN characters. I’m also playing with time. Imagine Season 8 Sam and Jensen a year or so into the future.

It was beta’d by the wonderful @fangirlxwritesx67. Thanks Viv for your patience with all my questions, your enthusiasm for this project, your thorough reading that really made me think about what I was doing, and the series title. 

Why were Mondays always like this? Olivia found it hard to decide what to wear after a weekend of being relaxed in pajamas and denim. Traffic was predictably the worst, even more so because of the holidays, and if there was any day she was going to forget and leave her coffee on the kitchen counter; it was Monday.

She made it to work on time with only a couple of minutes to spare. This was only her second week on the job at the city’s most up and coming marketing firm and being late was not the way to make a good impression on her new boss. John Winchester was a man with exacting standards and high expectations.

Her first stop was the coffee pot in the breakroom. There was no way her creativity was going to start flowing without caffeine. Cup in hand, Olivia made her way to her office. It was a respectable office, larger than the little more than a closet sized space she’d had in her last office. This one even had a small window. These things might seem insignificant, but Olivia had worked hard for them, and to her they were badges of success.

Olivia had barely had two sips of her vanilla creamer laced coffee when she had a visitor in her office, the kind of visitor who doesn’t knock: Sam Winchester. She hadn’t been here long, but she had been filled in on Sam. He was practically legendary among the women of the office, and some of the men. She took another sip of her coffee to hide the fact that her mouth had fallen open. This guy lived up to the hype. 

He was wearing a white dress shirt, minus the jacket, and the way his shoulders and chest filled out that shirt was nothing short of sinful. His tie formed a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, and the face above that tie was Greek god handsome. He was a Greek god with dimples.

As he walked across the room, his every move exuded power and privilege, without the arrogance. Holy fuck. Could a man be more attractive?

 He put a folder down on the edge of Olivia’s desk. Work. Right. He expected her brain to focus on what his family was paying her for.

She sat down to take a look at what was so important Sam Winchester himself had delivered it.  When he spoke, his voice was just as delicious as the rest of him.

 “New account. Dad wants you to take it.” He sat down smoothly on the edge of her desk to watch her look through the file like he owned the place, which he basically did. She finished looking through the file then looked up at Sam, more confused than ever. She was the new kid here. Why would they give her something this high profile, as in Hollywood high profile?

It wasn’t her most impressive moment or the most professional thing she’d ever said, but she blurted out, “Why me?”

Sam rested his hand on his thigh. The way his long fingers spread out over it wasn’t helping her concentrate or wrap her head around this situation. “Because you’re from Texas. Gives you insight into the culture, the vibe, the feel of it.” He stood and adjusted his tie, drawing your attention to his hands again. “This Ackles guy is a personal friend of my dad’s, so make it good.” As he left, he looked back over his shoulder. “Besides, everyone likes beer; you’ll come up with something.”

She said to the empty room, after he closed the door behind him, “No, actually I don’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a couple of minutes after Sam left, all she could do was stare at the nicely framed but generic artwork on her wall. The Winchesters were trusting her with a huge account for some reason, and she was scared completely out of her mind that she was going to screw it up and ruin her future with this company, along with her career in advertising. Why did it have to be beer? Finally, she opened the file and spread the pictures of the brewery and the photos of its famous owner across her desk. 

She picked up one of the glossy pictures of Jensen Ackles in all his male model perfection and took a good look at it. He was just as gorgeous as Sam, but his look was distinctly different.  His eyes were a clear green, and they held a deep intensity. Those eyes were captivating in a photograph. What would they be like in person? She allowed herself to indulge in that fantasy for a few seconds then shook her head to break the spell. She needed some Bailey’s in her coffee. Excellent idea. She was already walking a perilous line at this new job, so why the hell not?

Olivia swiveled her chair and opened the cabinet behind her, reaching into the back to grab the bottle of liquor where she’d stashed it. She poured a generous amount into her cup, hoping it would calm her nerves. With that in mind, she turned on some music. The soothing notes of an instrumental version of “White Christmas” floated from the speakers. 

She closed her eyes and let the taste of the coffee and the Irish cream sit on her tongue. This had been one of her favorite Christmas songs when she was growing up. It always took her to a fantasy wonderland, a place where life was ideal and Christmas cottages had perfectly trimmed trees with beautiful presents piled beneath them, fireplaces alive with glowing fires, stockings hung on the mantel, and snowflakes falling gently outside. Living in Texas, snow had been a magical and rarely seen event.

That long cherished holiday dream filled her mind and calmed her. She started singing along with the music. ...just like the ones I used to know.  After a stanza or so, she opened her eyes to focus once again on the pictures of the brewery in front of her. A snowy Christmas was her fantasy, but she had a job to do; that was her reality.

By the end of the day when Sam came back to check on her progress, Olivia had practically nothing to show him. It would do no good to try and stall or hide just how little she had managed to accomplish. He was her supervisor on this project, and he was here to see how much progress she’d made. 

He flipped through the work she’d done that day. His expression was unreadable, but his words were clear enough. “The Taste of Texas? Not exactly original is it?” He paused and cut his eyes over to her, then dropped them back to the papers he was holding. “The drawings aren’t bad though. We can probably use some of these hill country sketches. Maybe a logo design.” He closed the file and tossed it back on her desk.

 “Do you know what you need?” Her silence said she didn’t. “Inspiration.”

She put her hand on the folder lying on her desk, the one that represented her failed day of work. “Where do I get that exactly?” She was unable to keep a hint of exasperation out of her voice.

He flashed her those unbelievable dimples and winked. “Follow me.” Sam took her to his office. It was easily four times the size of hers with an entire wall of windows that revealed a breathtaking view of the city, the lights from the skyline competing with the white lights on the tastefully decorated Christmas tree that adorned his office. It was opulent and sleek, a space befitting the heir to the growing empire. 

She allowed herself to indulge in the breathtaking view of the skyline for a few seconds before commenting, “It’s an incredible view, but I don’t see anything about a family business in Texas out there.”

“Your inspiration isn’t out there; it’s in here.” His voice drew her eyes away from the magnificent view. Sam walked to his mini fridge and pulled out a six pack. He held it up. “A little Cosmic Cowboy from Family Business Beer Company. How can you create an impactful and memorable campaign without sampling the product?”

Sam twisted the top off a bottle and handed it to her. She took a sip of it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those people who could describe the taste of beer. It was cold. It was beer. That was all she had. She was not a connoisseur. How was she ever going to do this ad campaign? She didn’t even like beer.

Sam had been watching her reaction carefully. Olivia didn’t have a poker face, though she’d tried to hide her reaction. It didn’t slip by him that she wasn’t comfortable with this beer thing. 

“Not your favorite then?” He took a drink from his bottle. “Taste it again.”

He was the boss’ son, effectively her boss right now, and this was her job; but she got the feeling she would have done whatever he asked even if that hadn’t been the case. She took another sip, and Sam coached her through it. “Think about what you’re drinking; savor it. Just like wine, beer has notes; and they’re all different.”

She took one more drink. “What am I supposed to be tasting?” She’d never been good with wine either, but once someone explained there was blackberry or oak or whatever in it; she could pick up on that. She needed Sam to tell her what she should be tasting.

“Do you taste how it’s substantial but still light?” She took another sip and nodded. “It’s the grapefruit and pineapple that make it light; the pine in it gives it a little something more.” When he said it, she could taste it. She could taste it all.

Sam’s office had a fireplace, not like the one in her fantasy Christmas cottage, but when he picked up a remote and clicked it bringing the flames to life, it was cozy nevertheless. Sam took off his tie and tossed it on one of the upholstered chairs in front of the fire. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Absentmindedly, Olivia took another sip of her beer while she watched him. 

Sam sat down on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, his back leaning against the leather sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. He put what was left of the six pack of beer down beside him and patted the floor on his other side, inviting her to join him. Olivia lowered herself next to him. She was thankful her pencil skirt wasn’t so tight that it didn’t allow some freedom of movement, and she tried not to stare at the way the firelight danced over his golden skin. He caught her looking at his strong forearms, exposed below the rolled white cuffs of his shirt. Sam smiled, a flirty and suggestive sort of smile. He finished the last of his beer, and popped open another.

Olivia was slower to finish hers, but she was beginning to warm up to the taste. Perhaps it was something you had to acquire, or maybe the company you were in made all the difference. Beer might be okay after all. 

He asked, “What do you think of it now?”

“I can taste everything you said.” The crackle of the fire, the lights from the Christmas tree, and the skyline in the background created a perfect storm of romantic atmosphere. Olivia noticed how Sam’s eyes were a beautiful honeyed brown, dappled with green and gold. His lips looked incredibly soft in contrast to the hard line of his jaw. He caught her starting again, this time at his mouth. 

He took her empty bottle and slotted it back into the cardboard square where it had originally been and put what was left of his beer in the empty square beside it. Sam turned back to her and leaned in closer. He took her face into his hand and looked into her eyes for a long second or two before he lowered his mouth to hers. 

The way he kissed was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. His tongue was sure but gentle as it circled hers. He had complete control of her through what his mouth was doing. A wet spot was forming in her panties, her body responding to him. At the same time his hand was cradling her face while his fingers moved slowly back and forth through her hair, massaging her scalp and melting her under his touch. He could do anything to her. She was eager for it.

He broke the kiss, and now he was holding both sides of her head in his enormous hands. His lips were still just inches from hers. She could feel his breath when he asked, “What do you taste now?”

This man could make her breathless. He was either meant for her, or he was excellent at reading her actions and responses. His attention was completely on her, waiting for her response. 

 “I...can still taste the beer, but the way you taste makes it better.” It wasn’t eloquent. For someone who worked with words to pull the maximum effect from them, he could make her forget how to use them properly. 

Sam kissed her again, hands roaming down her back and stopped just above her waist. “You know what else might really inspire you?”

Olivia pressed her body so tightly against his she could feel the muscles in his chest and stomach through his shirt. It made her wetter. “I have some ideas.” 

He took off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. “Then let’s get those creative...juices flowing.” The blouse she was wearing was form fitting. Sam’s gaze traveled over her breasts before his eyes locked onto hers.

 A spark traveled between them. Lust? Need? Want? Whatever it was, the sexual tension hung in the air for a moment before their lips crashed together. 

Sam lowered her to the floor while he pulled her shirt up. He broke the kiss to tear it  over her head and throw it out of the way. Now it was his turn. She took a fistful of his shirt and pulled it out of his pants, then did the same on the other side. He propped himself over her on his hands while she unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. She ran her hand across his chest and over his shoulder. What he’d been hiding beneath that expensive shirt was impressive.  

Sam smiled down at her. “You like?”

“Very much,” she answered while he took off her bra and lowered his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He teased it with his tongue until she was arching her back and raising her hips off the floor. 

Sam sucked hard on the nipple in his mouth before pulling off it. “Do you want more?” Her eyes closed and her lips parted, a small moan escaping from them. 

He unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs, then turned his attention to her lace covered mound. Sam rubbed his fingers over her panty covered core. “Already so wet.” He pushed her panties aside and swiped his fingers through her folds. Then he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices from them. His eyes bore into hers. “Tastes so good.”

He tore her panties from her body to gain access to what he wanted; she heard the sound of silk and lace ripping. Sam’s hand felt huge on her thighs as he pushed them wide apart. He held them there, and his tongue found her clit. He sucked it the same way he’d worked at her nipple. 

She was raising and lowering her hips beneath him, fucking nothing and needing to be filled until Sam swirled his tongue all the way down her slit to her opening and thrust it inside. She wasn’t empty anymore, and it felt incredible. He moved his tongue in and out of her, fucking her on it until she was writhing and grabbing fistfuls of his hair. 

She wanted to scream but was still aware enough to know they were in the office building. So, with some effort, she held it in. But when he added the pad of his thumb circling over her clit while he continued to thrust into her with his tongue, she started to whimper and moan. Her thighs were shaking when she came on his face. He licked and stroked her through her orgasm until she went still beneath him.

Sam didn’t move for a few seconds, then he raised himself up so he could see her reaction to what he’d done to her, how it had affected her. Olivia smiled up at him, and Sam returned the smile while he unbuckled, unzipped, and pushed his pants and underwear down over his hips. If she’d thought what was under his shirt was stunning, what was under his pants was better. His cock was absolutely magnificent. It stood against his stomach long and thick, resting on his well defined abs. Sam caught her looking at him yet again, and his smile got bigger. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Sam lowered himself from his kneeling position until he was sitting on the floor. He pushed his pants farther down his legs to get them out of the way. He extended a hand to her, and she took it. He settled her on his lap. Olivia wrapped her legs around him. He looked at her with those beautiful eyes that combined colors in so many ways that seemed to change from moment to moment. “Do you want to go through with this? It’s not too late to say no.”

She squeezed her thighs into his sides. She was imagining the feel of his cock stretching her open. From the looks of him, it was going to be a tight fit. “I absolutely want to go through with this.” 

That was all he needed to hear. He took a condom from the wallet in the pants pooling around his ankles and rolled it down over his length. Sam put his hands on each side of her waist and lifted her up, lining her up over the tip of his cock.

When he started to lower her down onto his shaft, she rolled her head forward. Her hair brushed over his shoulder as he continued to slowly ease her down onto his length, giving her time to adjust to his size. Once he was fully seated inside her, he began to roll his hips. Oliva imitated his movements, rolling her hips with the same rhythm. 

She raised her head because she wanted to see into Sam’s eyes while he thrust up into her. There was something in the depths of them that she couldn’t quite define, something she wanted to figure out, something she wanted to understand and know better. He covered her mouth and kissed her with an intensity she could feel through her entire body.

His tongue was circling hers, tasting her, when she came again. Olivia clenched around him and her body spasmed in waves as her orgasm crested and blended into another. Sam kissed her all the way through it. She went limp in his arms, and he kept moving. 

She could feel his hands on her and the warmth of the flame from the fire on her skin. She could feel the way his cock throbbed, still buried deep inside her, and she could taste him. He pulled away from her mouth and buried his face in her neck when he came.  

“Olivia.” He said her name once, just the one word, and it struck her to the core. Olivia regretted that she couldn’t feel his hot release painting her insides. It felt like some part of him was being held back from her, and she wanted it all. 

Whatever magic she’d felt hearing the sound of her name on his lips dissipated with the reality of Sam pulling himself from her body and carefully removing the condom. He pulled his pants back up before walking over to his desk to dispose of it in the wastebasket there. Olivia imagined it wouldn’t be the first time the cleaning service found one of those in his trash. 

What was she doing? She just screwed the boss’ son in his office. She was a total cliche. Her mind told her she should feel like a slut, but she didn’t. She refused to be ashamed of what she’d done. The sex had been mind blowing; her body had never responded to any man that way. Sam had stirred something in her physically, but it had gone beyond that. It was something she would examine later and try to define, but now all she could think of was escaping the overwhelming thoughts and feelings consuming her. Hastily, she grabbed her clothes and was in the process of putting them back on when Sam returned. 

He took her hand and charmed her with his boyish dimples and his eyes that had turned a soft gray like the color of a sky lit by a silvery moon. Still, it was his words that got to her the most. “Hey, don’t be in such a hurry to leave; you’re going to make me feel cheap.” He was flirting with her. Guys like him moved smoothly through situations like this as though they were born to it, and in a way they were. Still, part of her hoped he was being at least a little sincere.

Sam hadn’t let go of her hand. “Stay with me. We can watch the fire, enjoy the lights on the Christmas tree.” This was a fling, right? It was a one night stand with the irresistible guy at work. “Plan our trip to Texas.” What did he just say? “A six pack is just an introduction to the business. What you need is to see the brewery.” 

Sam sat down on the sofa, and Olivia sank down beside him. She lowered her guard a little and let some of the bliss she was feeling wash over her. The ambience created by the light from the tree and the fire enhanced her mood; both the light and her mood seemed somehow softer now.

“We can take the company jet. Ring in the new year in Austin.” Listening to him, Olivia had a most happy thought. Maybe this wasn’t a one night thing after all. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness @deansotherotherblog

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet​ @idabbleincrazy​ @evansrogerskitten​ @focusonspn​ @autumninavonlea​ @spnxbsessed​ @durinsbride​ @deansyahtzee​ @waywardnerd67​ @fullmooner​ @julesthequirky​

#spnkinkbingo #spnchristmasbingo #sam smut #sam x ofc #sam series

[newstfionline]

Friday, June 25, 2021

The United States ranks last among 46 countries for trust in news (Reuters Institute) Trust in news worldwide grew slightly in the wake of the pandemic, according to the Reuters Institute’s annual Digital News Report. But not in the United States—it was one of the few countries that did not see an increase in trust from 2020 to 2021, and the percentage of Americans who trust news overall—29%—was the lowest among the 46 markets surveyed. The long-predicted end of the “Trump Bump” showed up clearly in the research, with Americans’ interest in news declining by 11%. National news outlets like The Washington Post, The New York Times, CNN and MSNBC have all seen significant dips in their audience numbers.

Western drought brings another woe: voracious grasshoppers (AP) A punishing drought in the U.S. West is drying up waterways, sparking wildfires and leaving farmers scrambling for water. Next up: a plague of voracious grasshoppers. Federal agriculture officials are launching what could become their largest grasshopper-killing campaign since the 1980s amid an outbreak of the drought-loving insects that cattle ranchers fear will strip bare public and private rangelands. In central Montana’s Phillips County, more than 50 miles (80 kilometers) from the nearest town, Frank Wiederrick said large numbers of grasshoppers started showing up on prairie surrounding his ranch in recent days. Already they’re beginning to denude trees around his house. “They’re everywhere,” Wiederrick said. “Drought and grasshoppers go together and they are cleaning us out.”

Condo building partially collapses in Miami-Dade (Washington Post) A large oceanfront condo building near Miami Beach partially collapsed early Thursday morning, killing at least one person, injuring another 10 or more and prompting a mass search-and-rescue response as 51 people remain unaccounted for. Dozens of units from police and fire agencies rushed to Champlain Towers South in Surfside, Fla., at 1:30 a.m. after the northeast corridor of the building collapsed, assistant fire chief Ray Jadallah said. Rescuers evacuated 35 people from the 12-story building, including two recovered from the rubble. Fifty-five of the more than 130 units were destroyed. The partial collapse came one day after the building had passed inspection.

Calls grow to evacuate Afghans to Guam as US troops leave (AP) In the chaotic, final hours of the Vietnam War, the U.S. evacuated thousands of South Vietnamese who supported the American mission and were at risk under the communist government. With U.S. and NATO forces facing a Sept. 11 deadline to leave Afghanistan, many are recalling that desperate, hasty exodus as they urge the Biden administration to evacuate thousands of Afghans who worked as interpreters or otherwise helped U.S. military operations there in the past two decades. Despite unusual bipartisan support in Congress, the administration hasn’t agreed to such a move, declining to publicly support something that could undermine security in the country as it unwinds a war that started after the 9/11 attacks. The Biden administration for now is focusing on accelerating a special visa program for Afghans who helped U.S. operations. Even if the legislation passed immediately, the number of visas would fall far short of the estimated 18,000 Afghans waiting to be processed. And the average wait is more than three years. The process also has been hampered by the coronavirus pandemic, which led the U.S. embassy in Afghanistan to suspend visa interviews.

Footage of Amazon destroying thousands of unsold items in Britain prompts calls for official investigation (Washington Post) British lawmakers are demanding a meeting with tech giant Amazon’s country manager after an investigation at a warehouse in Scotland revealed that thousands of unsold or returned items—including televisions, books, sealed face masks and laptops—were being destroyed by the company. Footage from the undercover investigation by ITV News at a warehouse in the Scottish town of Dunfermline, also showed drones, headphones, jewelry and countless other high-value products being placed into boxes labeled “destroy,” before huge trucks were followed carrying the stock to landfill sites and recycling centers. One ex-employee told ITV News that workers were expected to get rid of an estimated 130,000 items a week. The broadcaster described the practice as “waste on an astonishing level.” Amazon operates 175 centers worldwide, spanning more than 150 million square feet of space where employees prepare items to be shipped and delivered to customers around-the-clock. ITV News noted that the reason for the destruction of the goods may be attributable to Amazon’s business model. Companies worldwide store items in warehouses owned by the online shopping giant. However, if the items fail to sell, they are charged rising fees that some may struggle to pay, leading to piles of goods that need to be stored—or dumped—elsewhere. Many Britons, also concerned by the investigation, demanded to know why items that appeared to be in good condition were being dumped when vulnerable people or charities could have used the goods.

Black Sea tensions (Foreign Policy) Russia complained on Wednesday of a “blatant British provocation” in the Black Sea, as a British Navy vessel sailed near the Crimean peninsula on its way to port in Georgia. Both sides contest the facts of the incident: The Russian Defense Ministry said it fired warning shots near the British ship and dropped four bombs in its way, while the British Defense Ministry said no such obstruction occurred. A BBC journalist on board the British ship said he heard shots “out of range,” and that Russian military planes shadowed the vessel. Tensions in the area are expected to remain high as NATO conducts military exercises in the Black Sea starting on Monday.

It’s 118 Degrees in Siberia (Vice) The Arctic Circle is known for viciously cold winter temperatures that can cause frostbite within minutes—but this summer, parts of the area are so hot that touching the ground could burn your skin. The Siberian town of Verkhojansk recorded ground temperatures of 118 degrees on Monday, according to the European Union’s Earth Observation Programme. The agency’s satellites captured images of the record-breaking heat wave gripping the Russian north. The Siberian town of Saskylah saw an all-time peak ground temperature of 90 degrees, and other towns recorded temperatures near 110 degrees, according to the EU’s space agency. The World Meteorology Organization highlighted how dire the situation is in the Arctic, which is warming more than two times quicker than the global average. The fast rate is caused by a phenomenon called “Arctic amplification,” or the domino effect of the region’s highly reflective snow, large water volume, and fragile ecosystem. The high temperatures are causing wildfires in the Arctic too. As early as April, wildfires began to spark across Siberia, and got so bad the smoke could be seen from space, according to NASA imagery. In 2020, Siberia was also hit by record-breaking hot temperatures, dating back to 1885, according to National Geographic. “For a long time, we’ve been saying we’re going to get more extremes like strong heat waves,” Ruth Mottram, a climate scientist at the Danish Meteorological Institute, told National Geographic in 2020. “It’s a little like the projections are coming true, and sooner than we might have thought.”

Afghan government could collapse six months after US troops withdraw (The Hill) Afghanistan’s government could collapse as quickly as six months after all U.S. troops withdraw from the country, according to new analysis from the U.S. intelligence community. The latest intelligence assessment, reported by The Wall Street Journal, said that the Afghan government, led by President Ashraf Ghani, could collapse between six to 12 months after all American forces are pulled from the country. Some other officials, however, said that the government could fall as soon as three months after the U.S.’s withdrawal from Afghanistan is finished, the Journal reported. Previous analysis, the newspaper noted, said that Afghanistan’s government could stand for as long as two years after the American troops leave.

China’s borders (Foreign Policy) China’s borders will remain closed to most visitors until at least the second half of 2022 over concerns of further COVID-19 outbreaks imported from abroad. Chinese officials are reportedly worried about two sensitive events: the Beijing Winter Olympics and the formal conferral of an unprecedented third term for Chinese President Xi Jinping near the end of 2022. It’s possible some restrictions will remain until after the annual Two Sessions in early 2023. But the move may also reflect China’s lack of confidence in its own vaccines. Although its domestic vaccination program has been highly successful, with more than 1 billion doses administered, case data from other countries shows the Chinese vaccines aren’t doing a good job at preventing the spread of the virus, particularly the spread of new variants.

China says after massed drills that Taiwan’s future lies in ‘reunification’ (Reuters) Taiwan needs to be clearly aware that its future lies in “reunification” with China and that it cannot rely on the United States, China’s military said on Thursday, responding to questions on a massed incursion by Chinese warplanes last week. Twenty-eight Chinese air force aircraft, including fighters and nuclear-capable bombers, entered Taiwan’s air defence identification zone (ADIZ) last Tuesday, the largest number to date reported by the Chinese-claimed island’s government. The incident came shortly after Group of Seven leaders issued a joint statement scolding China for a series of issues and underscoring the importance of peace and stability across the Taiwan Strait, comments China condemned as “slander”.

Japan proposes four-day working week to improve work-life balance (DW) Japan is attempting to buck its “salaryman” stereotype and improve the work-life balance of its citizens in new economic policy guidelines that recommend a move to a four-day workweek. The Japanese government cited increased employee retention, especially for those caring for children or older relatives, as an incentive for employers to adopt the policy. Japanese authorities are hoping an extra day off per week will lead its citizens to solve even more societal problems: By using the time to do more shopping to boost the economy and by giving young people more time to socialize, which may, eventually, boost the country’s sluggish birth rate. However, there is concern that management will be reluctant to do away with some of the attitudes towards business that have served Japan Inc. so well for generations—even if there is clear evidence that traditional approaches are less effective than they were in the past. Employees, on the other hand, find the idea of a shorter working week appealing, but they do worry about reduced wages and accusations that they are not fully committed to their company.

Settlement Is Reached Over Stuck Ship That Blocked Suez Canal in Egypt (NYT) The owner and insurers of the enormous container ship that blocked the Suez Canal for six days in March and disrupted global shipping have reached a settlement with the Egyptian authorities, one of the insurers said on Wednesday. The insurer’s statement did not specify the amount, but said that once the settlement was formalized, the ship—after nearly three months of haggling, finger-pointing and court hearings—would finally complete its journey through the canal. Since the ship was freed in a huge salvage effort in March, about six days after running aground across the Suez, the canal authority had been locked in an often acrimonious standoff with the ship’s owner and operators over what the authority said it was owed for the incident. The authority had sought up to $1 billion in compensation.

#headlines #news

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Tim sat up straighter on the couch, alerted by something that was less a sound and more a feeling that he wasn’t the only person in the room. He closed his laptop screen without bothering to look behind him.

“Hey, Cass,” he said.

“You’re improving.”

“Thanks. What’s up?”

Cass advanced into the room, out of uniform, with a mixing bowl in one hand and a manilla file folder in the other. She held out the file for Tim to take.

“This.”

Tim took the file.

They settled cross-legged on the floor with the contents of the folder spread out on the hardwood, passing the bowl of Rice Krispie treats between them. Tim licked sugar off his fingers as he finished reading the last page of documents.

“Alright,” he said. “Recap.”

Cass gestured for him to go on.

“Political candidate Lewis Montauk got shot twice in the head in his home on Monday night. He was from a rich family, but I guess he wasn’t rich enough to finance a gubernatorial campaign by himself.”

Cass nodded. “The donors.”

“Yeah. There were four other people in the house that night, starting with two political donors.” Tim leaned down to check the records. “Doctor Hubbard and Sam Hewitt. Both gave a lot of money to the campaign, and if you want my guess, Montauk was asking for more.”

Tim pointed to another stack of papers. “Also in the house? Montauk’s two adult daughters, Elizabeth and Amanda. Let’s make a timeline.”

Cass grabbed a pen and spread the empty file folder in front of her to take notes.

Tim waited until she was ready, then began counting off times on his fingers. “The five of them started dinner at 8:30 PM. They talked about the campaign for an hour and a half, and then Elizabeth claims she went to bed at 10:00. The others didn’t see her again until after the murder.”

“Got it.”

“Around 10:15, Hewitt took his stuff and left— or at least, he says he did. The Doc and Amanda stayed in the dining room after that, while Montauk cleared the dishes and went to the kitchen.”

“Then?”

“At 10:22, Doctor Hubbard went down the hallway to the restroom. The Doc didn’t make it far because seconds after that, all three remaining witnesses heard two gunshots from the kitchen— and Hubbard heard a loud thump from somewhere in the house. At 10:23, Amanda passed the doctor in the hallway and found her father dead on the kitchen floor.”

Cass grimaced. “Poor Amanda.”

“Unless she killed him.”

“Unless she killed him.”

“Were there any cameras around the house?”

“No.”

“The crime scene?”

Cass took another clump of Rice Krispie treat. “They took the body. Everything else is there.”

“Ballistics report?”

“Nine mils. Short range.”

“Hm.” Tim held out a hand for the bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

Cass passed it over. “The doors.”

“Oh yeah. All the doors to the house were locked.” Tim grinned. “It’s kind of a classic.”

“And I believe,” said Alfred from the doorway, “there’s a classic answer.”

Tim turned to face him. Alfred had a mop, a bucket, and a wry smile.

“The butler did it?” Tim guessed.

“The butler does in fact do everything,” Alfred agreed. “Especially around here.”

“Thanks.”

“Your laundry is ready, Master Tim. And Miss Cassandra, the bloodstains have been removed from your carpet.”

Cass blew Alfred a kiss and stole back the Rice Krispie bowl. She and Tim bent over the file again while Alfred continued down the hallway.

Tim took the folder, looked over the timeline, and began a new column: suspects.

“So,” he said. “Four suspects that we know about: Hewitt, Hubbard, Elizabeth, and Amanda. At the time of the murder, all four claim they were in different parts of the house.”

Tim tapped his pen against the floorboards, thinking. “Elizabeth says she was upstairs in bed. Amanda says alone in the dining room. Hewitt says on the road home, Hubbard says in the hallway. The murder happened in the kitchen. Who’s lying?”

“Or?”

“Or,” Tim conceded, “someone was in the house that we don’t know about. There might have been an intruder, or a team of intruders. We can’t rule that out.”

Cass nodded meditatively, pulling out another handful of Rice Krispie. She set aside the bowl.

“But why?”

“Good question: motive. We can start with the twin daughters, I guess. It’s a rich family. One or both of them could have murdered their father for the inheritance. Hey, Bruce.”

Bruce had wandered into the room in his pajamas and robe, yawning. His eyes narrowed.

“You’re doing what now?”

“Nothing,” said Tim, smiling innocently. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bruce grinned, stole the bowl of Rice Krispie treats, and walked through the door on the other side of the room.

“Hey!” Tim protested.

“Aw,” said Cass. She made a face and crossed her arms in mock anger before she went back to business. “What about the donors?”

“I don’t know. They already spent a lot of money on this campaign. I don’t see what either one of them has to gain from his death, so why kill?”

“To kill,” Cass said quietly.

They both sat on that one for a few moments.

“Yeah,” said Tim. “Maybe. We’ll keep that in mind.”

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

They changed into their costumes and drove further into the countryside beyond Gotham City. The Montauk house wasn’t far from Wayne Manor— down a few extra miles of road, past a single stoplight, over a rusted iron bridge, and through a forest.

In the end, they found it by the swarm of police officers going in and out. Tim grabbed the case file from the backseat, and the two of them went inside to mingled smiles and glares. Some officers, it appeared, weren’t keen on bats.

They passed from the front entrance into a large foyer, and from there into a long hallway with assorted doors. Tim opened all of them on his way past: a living room and kitchen on the right, a dining room and bathroom on the left. The two of them peered into each space, looking for clues.

They began their investigation in the dining room. A long table with five place settings sat in the center of the room, half cleared of plates and serving dishes. One heavy wooden chair lay sideways on the floor, as if someone had knocked it over in a rush to stand.

“That’ll be the thumping sound,” said Tim, pointing. “The one the doctor heard after the gunshots? The falling chair does place Amanda in this room at the time of the murder. Seems like she’s not our shooter.”

Tim put an X next to Amanda’s name and moved on; he pulled Elizabeth’s witness statement from the file and spread the pages on the table to read for a second time.

“I don’t think it’s her,” said Cass, tapping the corner of a page. “I saw this interview.”

“Was she lying?”

“No. She was angry.”

“You’re sure?”

“Sure enough.”

“Okay.” Tim gathered the papers back up again, pausing over the last paragraph of Elizabeth’s statement: ‘when I catch the barn-rat bastard who did this, I’ll commit a murder myself.’

“Angry,” Tim agreed. “So. Not the twins?” He marked another X, this time by Elizabeth’s name.

“No.” Cass circled the room for a final time, then led the way back into the hall. “Not the twins.”

They stopped a few feet down the hallway, between two doors: dining room and bathroom— the place where Doctor Hubbard claimed to be at the time of the murder. The kitchen door wasn’t far from the spot.

“The Doc was close,” Tim noted. “The closest to the murder. Amanda says she saw Hubbard in this hallway right after the gunshots, and if we believe Amanda…”

“It could have been the doctor.”

“Yeah. Hubbard might have fired the shots, then retreated back here. It would only take a few steps. Let’s look at the kitchen.” They squeezed past a pair of passing officers and through the kitchen door.

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

There was a lot of blood in the kitchen: a congealing pool of it on the floor and splatter marks on the backsplash and cabinets. There was a stack of plates and pans piled haphazardly in the sink next to a heap of silverware on the kitchen counter— the missing dishes from the dining room set. Tim and Cass stood in the middle of the tile, overlooking the blood.

Tim never got used to murder scenes. He pushed back a wave of nausea and the urge to sit down on the floor. Instead, he turned slowly around the room, taking in details.

“Well,” he said finally. “We know the killer was here. The question is, how did the killer get out? Amanda didn’t see anyone when she found the body— no one but the doctor in the hallway. As I see it, there are two options.”

Tim held up a finger. “One: the doctor killed Montauk, then left the room before Amanda arrived.”

He held up a second finger. “Two: the killer— not the doctor— was still in this room, hiding, when Amanda arrived. They waited until everyone else was gone, then left.”

Cass nodded.

“I don’t see many places in here where someone could hide. You take the right side, I’ll take the left?”

They searched quietly for a few minutes; Tim opened cabinets while Cass meticulously combed her side of the room.

“Here,” she said.

She closed the door, revealing the space behind it. There were two tiny smudges of red on the wall near the hinges— blood splatters where no blood should be. She pulled a vial from her belt to take a sample.

“Perfect,” said Tim. “The killer hid behind the door until everyone left. That means it wasn’t the doctor.”

He marked a third X by Hubbard’s name. “Once again, two options. Hewitt never left the house—”

“Or someone else was here.”

“Yeah. My money’s on Hewitt.”

“Why?”

Tim shrugged. “More exciting. It would be very… classic. Either way, the killer snuck out of here without anyone else seeing them. How many ways could you get out of this house?”

Cass appeared to think about it. “Four.”

“How many ways could, you know, not you get out of this house?”

Cass thought some more.

“One,” she decided.

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

The bathroom had a tiny window covered by a miniature curtain rod and floral-patterned fabric. Tim looked over the bolt and found it unlocked.

“You were right,” he said. “The killer left through here.”

They dusted for fingerprints and found nothing. They combed the bathroom too— nothing. As a last resort, they walked outside, to the other side of the window, expecting nothing. Instead, they found a thin, barely visible streak of gray running vertical beneath the window.

“Shoe mark,” said Tim, carefully chipping away a section of the brickwork along the line of rubber. “The killer left it climbing through the window. That gives us two samples to work with. What do you think?”

“The blood?”

“Probably Montauk’s, but maybe we’ll get lucky. It could be the killer’s. And the shoe mark—”

“Will show us where the killer’s been.” Cass gestured back to the Montauk house. “Are we done here?”

“I think so.” Tim stowed his sample safely in his belt. “Let’s go home.”

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

They passed Bruce again on their way into the Batcave— them arriving, him leaving. He waved at them from the driver’s seat of the Batmobile before he sped off into the cave system. Tim and Cass set up camp in the crime lab.

Their first sample came back quickly, about as Tim expected.

“No dice on the blood,” he said, holding up the comparison sheet. “It’s Montauk’s, not his murderer’s. Maybe we’ll have better luck with the shoe.”

They waited. The second set of tests— the shoe print on the brickwork— came back positive for rubber, dirt, and rusted iron.

Rubber, Tim thought, obviously. The print came from the toe of a shoe. The dirt was obvious too, if unhelpful. There was nothing special about it.

Rusted iron? More interesting. There might be a way to track that, but how? Gotham City was old, full of rusted iron: buildings, sewer pipes, railings….

Bridges. Tim looked up as Cass arrived at the same conclusion and they spoke in near unison.

“The bridge.”

They had crossed a bridge on their way to the Montauk house, rusted and peeling.

“The stoplight was right there.” Tim grabbed excitedly for the computer mouse and opened the traffic cam database. “There might be video.”

They found the stoplight camera easily enough, and they watched the film for the day sped up— hours of footage into minutes. When the timestamp hit 9:32 PM, a shadowy figure passed over the bridge, face invisible under a hood to the grainy camera.

“Got em,” Tim said, pausing the video. “Sort of. No face to run through the system.”

Cass played back the video several times, leaning into the screen. Tim watched as she rolled back the seconds again and again. The figure walked across the bridge and into the shadows outside of the camera’s range. As far as Tim could tell, there was nothing else to see.

“Do you have something?”

Cass ran the loop a final time, then leaned back in her chair.

“I know that walk,” she said. “I’ve seen it before.”

“When?”

“Two weeks ago.” She opened another folder of footage: her own cowl-cam. She scrolled back two weeks and selected a file.

The screen lit up with Cass’s point of view. It panned over an empty rooftop, then over the edge of the roof, looking down on a pair of men under a street lamp. One stood silently near the pole, clutching a gun. The other paced backwards and forwards, in and out of the shadows.

“That one,” said Cass, pointing.

The camera spun in a dizzying blur, presumably as the Cass of two weeks ago dropped to the ground between the two men. Both turned to face her.

Tim paused the video on a perfect shot of the pacing man’s face.

Excellent. The facial recognition system whirled through photographs and text. In the end, a mug shot appeared on the screen.

“Philip Rik,” read Tim. “Well. I guess Hewitt isn’t our man.”

“You’re disappointed.”

“It would have been cool. It doesn’t matter, I guess. An intruder is classic too.” Tim printed off the mugshot and tucked it into his file. “So you fought him two weeks ago? What happened?”

Cass shrugged. “He was working for Penguin. They arrested him. That’s all I know.”

“Do you think Penguin is behind the Montauk shooting?”

“Hm.” Cass scrolled through Rik’s police record. She pointed to a list of names.

“He works for everyone,” she said.

Tim knew the type. Mercenary. Paid gun. Henchman for hire. He copied down the long list of Rik’s employers: Penguin, Riddler, Joker, Black Mask…

That wasn’t even half of it. Tim finished his list while Cass kept scrolling to the address typed at the bottom of Rik’s sheet. Tim copied that down too.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”

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

They found him, but not in time. When they arrived at the address from the police sheet, they saw a small, battered looking shotgun house with a single door. That door was in splinters. It hung off its hinges and creaked quietly in the wind.

They advanced towards the house together, silent and unseen. Tim stepped across the threshold first. He had some idea of what he was about to see.

Murder scenes. After all these years, they still made him sick.

Rik lay on his living room floor with two bullets in his head, blood pooling around him. By Tim’s judgment, he had been dead for hours. His skin was bloodless, his body stiff.

They retreated to the doorway to discuss their options.

“I’m thinking his employer killed him,” said Tim. “That seems like the obvious answer.”

“Yes.”

“But who?”

Cass shook her head. Tim opened his file again.

“It’s a murder mystery. We have to at least consider Riddler. Other than that, I don’t know. Montauk was a politician. Maybe he made campaign promises the crime bosses didn’t like. Then it could be Penguin or Black Mask.”

He ran his pen down the list of employers.

Penguin, Riddler, Joker, Black Mask…

Oh.

Tim closed his folder. Oh. How had he not seen that before?

“Two bullets,” he said, gesturing to Rik’s body. “Two murders, two donors, two sisters.”

“Twins,” Cass pointed out.

“Yeah,” Tim sighed. “Twins. And it happened on—”

“Monday.”

“The second day of the week, at—”

“10:22.”

Tim glanced down at his own watch, set to military time. By that system, 10:22 PM would be….

“22:22.” Tim switched on his com link. “Commissioner? We solved the Montauk case. There’s been another murder, and we know who did it.”

“Two-Face,” said Cass.

“Two-Face,” Tim agreed.

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

Tim knew— really, he did— that super villains didn’t stay in jail. Arkham Asylum had all the holding power of torn sleeves or a broken strainer: holes within holes.

Still. There was something cathartic in watching an arrest.

Tim and Cass sat on the hood of their car while the cops dragged Two-Face out of his favorite club. He hadn’t been hard to find. Dent screamed furiously from the minute the sirens started to the moment they loaded him into the van.

Cass waved at him. He spat in her direction.

“Twos,” said Tim. He still couldn’t believe he missed it for so long. “Two-Face. Of course it was Two-Face. He works in pairs.”

“So do we.” Cass gestured between the two of them, and Tim heard the smile in her voice.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

They waited for the last officer to leave, then drove away themselves-- across the city, down into the cave system, and towards home.

Fin.

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

Anonymous said: Since you're taking Tim requests, would you consider doing something where Tim gets to show off that he's a very good detective? :)

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@rootbeerandmusic​ said: hey!! if you're still making tim centered things could you maybe show us tim in his element? like tim just being very competent at something he enjoys doing? like solving a case or skateboarding or photography, I just think he needs more happy moments you know? even if you decide not to thank you for your time!

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@persephonerights​ said: a tim fic where he shows off his detective skills in a way that impresses another batkid that's there?

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Anonymous said: Tim and Cass bonding?

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@tinyearthquakepatrol​ said: Tim and Cass sibling bonding? Maybe unwinding after a case?

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@onceandfuturequeenofnarnia​ said: Tim and Cass bonding?

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@kiragecko​ said: For a Tim request, Tim and Cass working together? On a case, or to fix something for Dick because they love him?

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Anonymous said: tim and cass working together on something? maybe jason it there too just because i think he’s neat? love your work btw its because of you i got so into all things batfam!

#hey guys? this is it #this killed me #i am dead #you will never hear from me again #i have gone to a better place #tim drake #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfamily #fanfiction #mine #uhhhhhh #blood #gore #maybe

[vithyahairandmakeup]

My Decade

My 2010 started with me finishing my one year diploma at London College of Fashion. I was so excited to start my new career with this prestigious qualification at one of the World’s top fashion institutions, but the makeup artist I used to look up to so much then, told me that I would not last long in this field. She broke my heart. And not because I thought I was doomed, but because of how discouraging and mean she was. 

Up until that moment I thought I had to prove something to my family, but then quickly realised that I am leaving one pack of wolves - my family of course - to walk into another - this industry!I swore to myself then, that I would encourage and support any other makeup artist along my journey and not be like her. I would like to believe that I stayed true to that to some extent. Whatever she had told me did place some doubt in my heart. Just as a precaution I thought I better apply somewhere and work part time at least. So I applied at MAC cosmetics, who had actually rejected me. They then gave me a call a few months later and asked if I could cover during their busy christmas period. Once I started at MAC, they kept me on and I worked for them for another 3 years. They even offered me the managerial position, the irony.

During the three years at MAC, I was so unsure and so confused in what direction I wanted to go in. It was a part time position, so it didn’t pay well, and I was desperately trying to freelance on the weekends. I would get a client once every few months, who wouldn’t pay me much. Without a car, without a proper makeup trolley, it was agony carrying my suitcase up and down underground staircases and holding onto it with my dear life during packed train journeys. I can assure you, it was not a pleasant experience at all.I tried being part of short movies, worked with the National Portrait Gallery, the Arcadia group (who own Topshop, Dorothy Perkins etc.), fashion shows for Nintendo, and even a shoot for British Airways. But all were unpaid and definitely got me nowhere except for a few phone pictures to add to my Facebook Page.

I would come home after a long day of standing and lugging my suitcase around, and my parents would look at me with judgemental eyes wondering why a science graduate who landed a very well paid job in a huge marketing company, would give it all up to do makeup on people for minimum wages and be treated like a servant?I honestly never ever regretted my decision. Yes it was tough not making money, and spending all my earnings on building a better makeup kit or on my travel, but it gave me life; it brought me happiness, it made me want to get out of bed, and it definitely distracted me from my anti depressants and suicidal thoughts. Being a makeup artist brought me back to life.

In 2013, I quit MAC and took the brave decision to go self employed. I registered my company officially. My freelance work had picked up, and I wanted to free my weekends from working in retail. I wanted to explore more and try out new things.I still remember I had hit 10K followers on Instagram after joining in 2012 and more and more people started to get to know me around the world. Instagram opened up a lot of doors for me.Having lived in Germany most of my childhood, my parents were ok with me travelling to Europe for bridal jobs because I was able to stay with family. I think I was the first Tamil makeup artist back then who travelled to neighbouring countries for work. That was probably one of the best decisions I had made. Travelling around Europe and doing makeup got me exposed a lot more and people who were not on social media knew of my existence. 

And as per usual I would still collaborate and work for free with anyone who contacted me. I wanted to get out there and try everything new. During exactly one of these collabs, I was asked to come early morning one day, to do makeup on a male model for a music video shoot. When I arrived that Monday morning I nearly fainted at the sight of Simbu, a very famous Tamil Actor. I was getting my station ready when the makeup artist who was hired for the entire movie did end up coming for this music video shoot. I was gutted. I thought I won’t get a chance to work with him and was prepared to pack up and leave. But the organiser was adamant that I stay and help out. I asked the makeup artist if I could do touch up makeup at least for a few scenes, and she kindly let me. The pictures I took of that moment went viral in South India, and that was the first time people in India started following my work on social media or even knew of my existence.It was also the first time a lot of makeup artists noticed me and can I just say they were not happy with this newbie getting to work with celebrities. 

It got worse in 2014 when I was asked to do makeup for another famous Actress, Sneha, for a Wedding Exhibition. To be honest I was very overwhelmed. I did not think I was cut out for the job and kept asking the organisers why not pick some of the more experienced makeup artists. I really was not ready for such a big job. I wasn’t confident.However, the organiser told me that out of all the profiles she had sent Sneha, Sneha herself picked me. That was all I needed. I spoke to Sneha on the phone a week before her arrival, and met her a few days before the show, to discuss the looks and make sure she was happy with everything.Working with her will forever be one of my most cherished moments in my career. She believed in me and trusted me. However a lot of people were absolutely angry at the thought of me doing makeup on someone as famous as her. They could not comprehend that someone as inexperienced, nor established as myself would bag in a job like this. I did understand their disappointment, but was sad that no one seemed to want to support me. 

Later that same year, I was asked if I was interested in being a production assistant for two songs from the movie Nanbenda; it was a Red Giant Production acting Udhayanidi and Nayanthara, line produced by Kavino from MYA Media. Of course I know nothing about production, but did not want to turn down this opportunity, so took 9 days off and decided to help out. The shoot took place all over Great Britain with a huge budget and an experience of a life time. I got to personally work with Nayanthara and saw what happened behind the scenes. I made great friends during that shoot, even had the responsibility of finding a castle and two horses for one scene, but went home having to deal with a divorce. Even though career-wise 2014 was a great year for me, but on a personal level I had to deal with a lot of heart ache. And no, it had nothing to do with my career, it was simply bad timing. 

The following few years just had me on a rollercoaster to be honest. I tried numerous new things; being a TV host, a judge for dance competitions and beauty peagants, modelling, acting in commercials which never made it on TV, makeup for adverts, short films, magazine shoots, editorials, none were paid of course, until I found a new love for teaching.

I started teaching one-to-one tutorials in 2014 and remember I couldn’t even get two students that December. The following year it grew to 10 students, and in 2016 I had back to back students who were willing to pay whatever I quoted. That I when I made the decision of doing a Masterclass after seeing Mario (Kim Kardashian’s Makeup Artist) do these around the US. I had no guidelines nor knew how to start. Masterclasses were unheard of in our community. I was the first.I hired a small gallery space, and rented 20 chairs. I had my cousins and friends help me set up and we bought a Kettle and paper cups to serve tea and coffee for everyone. I thought the day went so well, and absolutely enjoyed the teaching, to get a call at the end of that day from my mum crying down the phone telling me that our house got robbed. Well we quickly found out that nothing was actually stolen, but the house just go trashed. A lot of us that night stayed up thinking someone did not want me to do these classes. My high ended with such a low, and got worse when I woke up to a lot of emails from our students complaining about numerous things in regards to my Masterclass. Today, I have taught 16 classes all over the world now with as many as 80 students, and for renowned makeup brands such as Bobbi Brown and Nars Cosmetics. So don’t ever let anyone or anything stop you from what you love and what you are meant to do.

Anyway, the following years have definitely been the best; from campaign shoots for Pothys, being flown out around the world for Bridal jobs, being a panelist and being a Keynote speaker for American Express, working with South Indian Movie celebrities Amy Jackson, Bharathirajah, the beautiful Sneha again, and Meena, being in charge of Makeup for Anirudh’s Concert in London and Paris, interviewed on mental health and published in Huffington Post, and my YouTube journey with my Saree draping video amassing nearly 6 million views. I know this is not work related but me marrying the most amazing human being in New York almost 3 years ago definitely was a huge benefactor in my career too. Happiness does wonders, I tell you.

Either way, none of it came easy. Yes it was hard work, but no one ever publicly or openly talks about the politics and the drama that happen in the industry behind closed doors. How not only do you have to deal with your nerves when working on a big project but you probably have to pray all day that no one tries to sabotage this opportunity for you; that no one talks to the organiser and pays them off to drop you last minute (has happened to me countless times), and hope that no one talks behind your back and invents rumours about you. The best rumour was that my ex husband left me because I was having a relationship with Simbu apparently. When my Bride told me that, my answer was “I wish”. We had such a laugh that day.

My last 10 years taught me so much. I grew on a professional and personal level. I think maturity and experience has helped me deal with a lot of it, and face a lot of it.I have some amazing friends also who are in the same field as me, and I have never stopped encouraging, teaching, or inspiring others who are entering this industry. I want to be that someone I never had 10 years ago. Jealousy, competitiveness, and hate does nothing but destroy. It ruins, and it causes nothing but pain. Fame can be another culprit too. It’s great to want to grow on social media, but do not lose your morals, values, and principles along the way. Once you lose respect, it is very hard to earn it back.

How does one deal with all of this? I used to wonder why some people were so horrible, but then gave up trying to figure out what their reasons were. I still get hate or have situations were other makeup artists try and make it very difficult for me, but the first step was to block a lot of words and people on social media. Of course we want to be liked, and we want to be a good person and set a good example, but do we really need to prove something to someone who does not know you nor like you? No matter what line of business you are, there is going to be competition. There is going to be people around you who are going to watch you like a hawk and copy every single thing that you do. But let that be a positive thing. Let that challenge you to do better, and be better, and get outside of your comfort zone. Focus on your own path and cut out anything or anyone who stresses you out or causes negativity. It really is as simple as that.Comparing yourself to others is the worst thing you could do to yourself. Insecurities do not get you anywhere. Have the right people around you who feed your soul with positivity and happiness. And definitely stay away from those who like to gossip about others in the industry. Never healthy I tell you. Trust me, I have been there, done that.

My testimony is to help you see the non-glamorous side of my job, but also see how it has never been easy and still isn’t for any of us. In 2007 I tried to take my life. If anyone had told me then, that in 2020 I will be writing a blog about how to deal with negativity, I would have laughed in their face. But here I am today, doing what I love, loving life, and not being the slightest bit deterred by the few who will always try and bring you down. I have an amazing support system of family and friends, and there are hundreds of thousands of you who support me, so surely that has to count for something too. I am so ready to take on the next decade. Are you?

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 34

Catch up on AO3

~*~Sebastian~*~

 Dog and pony show it is. There were more and varied people at the party, but it felt the same. I felt like I was on a leash being paraded around the room. I was introduced, explained about, talked at, and I acted well enough to win an Oscar. There were some people and some stories which were interesting. Sometimes not. Advertising campaigns are usually less interesting than movie things. Corporate people and I don't have much in common. I have a rudimentary knowledge of corporate executive speak from previous functions, but most of the conversation is them asking me about projects and people. It was really bad after Civil War because everyone wanted information. Information I didn't actually have. Hell, we didn’t know it was a funeral when we filmed the damn thing.

Almost two hours in I escaped to the bar. Wait staff had been delivering me drinks, but this was a moment of escape. I leaned against the bar and asked for tequila. They had the one Emma had said was her favorite. I took a sip and smiled.

 A voice beside me said, "The tequila that good or the party that bad."

 I looked at my glass then the man squeezed in the corner. He was my age, dressed more casual in jeans and a nice shirt, and swirling a healthy two fingers of bourbon around a glass. I opted for truth, "More about the woman who told me this was her favorite."

 "That's better than either." He held out his hand, "I'm Sam."

 I shook his hand, "Sebastian. Nice to meet you." I nodded toward the people. "How do you fit in here?"

 "My wife." He pointed to an attractive redhead. "I’m the arm candy."

 Funny.

 "Good for you."

Sam smirked and took a long drink. "Where is your tequila connoisseur?"

I looked at my watch, "Eighteen hours and a ninety-minute train ride north."

He hissed in a breath, "Sorry."

"No, nothing bad." I was shaking my head. "She's new. It's new." I smiled, "It's good, just new."

"New is good." He cringed, "Too good to expose her to this horse shirt."

We continued talking until I finished my second drink. Sam walked with me over to his wife and my night had taken a definite good turn.

My head hated me in the morning. My stomach wasn't my biggest fan either. I downed a bottle of alkaline water and some Advil before heading to the gym. I grabbed a hangover smoothie on the way. By the time the workout was over I was feeling human. I took a degree of shit for being hungover and a little extra for my weekend plans. Specifically, my hangover would have a negative effect on my weekend. I called bullshit. They were just trying to get into my head.

 For this weekend I packed better. I guess that means I packed better for tonight’s dinner. Tomorrow was a shorts and t-shirt sort of day. I wonder if her team has a uniform? Now I have to pack several different colors of shirts to make sure I'm not walking around in rival colors. Alternatively, I could ask.

 Sebastian ~ What are your team's colors?

 Emma ~ Blue and orange.

 Sebastian ~ I can do blue.

 Emma ~ Got something against orange?

 Sebastian ~ Don't like orange.

 Emma ~ Me either. How was last night?

 Sebastian ~ Tequila!

 There were pictures from the party on the companies Instagram. I took a screenshot and sent one to Emma.

 Emma ~ Your face! Look at your face.

 I'd shaved before dinner. I ran my hand over the stubble that had already grown back.

 Sebastian ~ No beard for this ad.

 Emma ~ Can’t wait to get my hands on your face.

 Sebastian ~ I'm done for the day. Can you pick me up at 3:30? If not, I’ll go visit mom.

 Emma ~ I can. I'll still be in work clothes.

 Sebastian ~ Teacher is hot.

 Emma ~ We'll see...

 Since my meeting canceled and I’m not leaving for a few hours I decided to stretch out on the couch and read. That lasted about fifteen minutes. I'm distracted. Distracted by a woman. It’s been a long time since I've been distracted by a woman. A very long time to this degree. I keep replaying conversations. I can hear her voice, the words she uses, and her laughter. I can see her smile and the way she holds her body. Her beautiful body. Her strength and her confidence, the way she carries herself is sexy. There’s a compilation of clips running through my mind. Thoughts and memories distract me from my day and make me smile. All the damn time.

 On the train, I started working on a playlist. More than one. A bigger one with songs that had me thinking of Emma. Fast, slow, sexy, whatever songs. I included things I wanted her to hear. I shoved everything into the big playlist. From there I narrowed it down for a smaller one. A soundtrack. Songs I want to dance, sing, make out, and have sex too. I moved things in and out several times. Making a playlist for us is much harder. I don't want songs that don't reflect what I’m feeling, what I want. That's tough because I'm changing every hour. I’m jumping in with both feet, then stepping back to ease in, then running forward again. Back and forth and up and down. Never going backward from where we are. The back and forth is more trying to find what's next. What's too far? And is it too far for me or am I concerned it’s too far for her?

 Time went fast. My project was nowhere near done. Luckily, I had another train ride to work on it come Monday. Outside on the sidewalk was a long line of cars. The traffic was steady, even rushed, to get out of the lot. Just the pickup was delaying the process. It reminded me of a roller coaster where you get in and barely have time to buckle up before the ride is off. I could see a red CRV back almost a dozen vehicles. I walked toward until I was close enough to see Emma in the driver’s seat. She saw me and waved. I heard the door lock disengage as I reached for the handle.

 First things first, a kiss. Slow enough to feel it and quick enough to not get the wrath of the other drivers. Emma reached for my hand, "I'm glad you’re here."

"Me too." I took a moment to check out teacher clothes and started laughing. "What the hell are you wearing?

 Emma smiled, "It's Fantasy Friday."

 "Pull the damn car over!" I point to the right. "Over there." She did as I asked and pulled across two spots. I moved my hand to shift the CRV into Park. "I need to check this out."

 Emma wore a purple gauzy dress with a halter top, a skirt halfway to her knees, and long strands of cloth hanging in different lengths. She had a pair of black tights on under the dress. In her hair, she had a crown of flowers and behind her were white wings.

 After checking out the whole costume I met her eyes with a smile, "Fantasy Friday."

 "I'm a fairy."

 "I can see that." She looked cute and silly. The thought of her teaching class dressed like a fairy made my heart beat faster. I don't have to see her teach to know she’s a good teacher. She's gone all-in. She looked confused by my facial expression. I shook it off, it didn't matter and she’d understood in a second. I reached under her hair, mindful of her wings, and cupped her neck. "Is there a curse or anything for kissing a fairy."

 "Only if you do it badly."

 "I'm safe then."

 I leaned across the console to press my lips to hers. My intention was a relatively chaste but long kiss ending with a hint of tongue. Emma wanted a long, deep, wet, kiss. I was easily convinced. Very easily. I'm pretty sure the only reason we had a mini make-out session in a parking lot was that it was too light and too busy to have sex. We have some kind of incendiary chemistry going on.

 I moved away from the kiss and buried my face against her neck. I laid a wet kiss where she liked best before moving my mouth to her ear and whispering. "I gotta tell you. You look very cute, but this isn't my fantasy."

 Emma ran her hand down my arm, "You'll have to fill me in on your fantasy, so I can make that happen for you." She kissed me and held tight to my bicep.

 The hours of distraction and attempts to pull together a playlist were paying off for me. I was already worked up and excited to see her. Actually being with her, her dressed to read to her students, and our flirting kisses had me on edge. I’m calculating the appropriate time between arrival and having sex. I had a basic idea of continued flirting through dinner, ramping up to sexual flirting before we got to dessert, then cutting loose when we got back home. But I'm telling you, I feel like Emma has other plans. Plans for me. I like being the subject of nefarious plans. I'm feeling kinda stalked. The good kind of stalked. Not the someone tracking my movements through my friends’ Instagram type of stalking. I won’t be going far enough for her to lose me, so she won’t have far to stalk. It's conceivable I could tie myself to her bed and wait for her to show up. Ok, maybe not right now, but it’s an option.

 She told me about Fantasy Friday as she drove. "We have theme days through the months. Like Manic Monday where we incorporate movement and dance into our lessons. More than usual and have a dance party in the afternoon. Naughty or Nice Tuesdays where they earn cards to get them out of things or trade with peers. Camping Thursday is big popular. But Fantasy Fridays are the best. They all get into it and I have boxes of costumes so no one feels left out."

 Emma’s attention to make sure no one would feel left out was one more thing on the list of things that make her an amazing teacher. "What happens on Fantasy Friday?"

 “Today they had to present their character story. Where they're from, what skills they have, what their lives are like."

 I could tell by the tone of her voice she had fun with her backstory. "Tell me yours."

 Emma smiled at me, "I am the lost fairy of Central Park. There was a war with the bridge trolls and I was sent away for my safety. Soon an agreement will be reached and I will return to my home. I enjoy pollinating, singing to flowers, and providing mediation between arguing animals."

 "Is this lesson recorded?" I was most interested in the pollinating.

 "It is."

 "Can I watch?"

 "If I can watch something of yours."

 I squeezed her hand. "Deal."

 At her condo I followed her in, watching the fabric swish and admiring her ass. Like I said, worked up. Worked the fuck up.

 Emma opened the door and walked in, holding the door. She smiled as I walked in and spoke, "Bine-ai revenit, Sebasti-an."

 I stopped dead in my tracks. Emma had said, "Welcome back, Sebastian" in a not too bad Romanian. The accent was off, but her pronunciation of my name was beautiful. To me anyway.

 My mouth hung open in surprise, a slight smile curving the sides. "Mulţumesc. (thank you) Did you learn words to be able to say my name?" Last weekend we’d discovered I prefer the Romanian pronunciation of my name, but it didn’t sound right in connection with English sentences.

 Her smile answered, "Da." (Yes)

 I walked to her, pressing her back to the wall, with my hands on either side of her shoulders. I was affected more than I would have expected. "How much do you know?"

 She grimaced, "Not a lot. Pronunciation is hard."

"I know someone who can teach you."

 "Gotta be phrases so I can say your name."

“Sărută-mă. Repeat." My eyes stayed on hers.

"What am I saying?"

"Try it and see." This was fun. And hot, really fucking hot.

"Sărută-mă, Sebasti-an." She may not know what she’s saying, but her tone was perfect.  Fucking hell. I can't believe her.

 "Fericit, iubito." I dipped down and sucked her bottom lip between mine. Emma licked along my lips urging me to open to her. It didn’t take much urging.

 Emma kissed my collar bone, "What did you have me say."

 "Kiss me." I went for her neck, "And I said “Happily, baby".”

 I continued kissing her neck, loving the way she sighed and the feel of her hands on me. I stepped closer to press the length of my body against hers. My cock was hard and the pressure against her stomach felt amazing. I pulled my head back to breathe, looking up and closing my eyes. I felt her hands cup my face and tilt my face back to hers.

 "Do you want me like I want you? Right now." She licked her lips.

 I groaned before I spoke, "I really fucking do."

 We crashed together. Emma rubbed against my cock and I kissed her like it had been forever. I dug underneath the fairy fabric and hooked my thumbs in her tights, taking those and her panties down to the floor. I reached for my bag and found a condom. I held the corner between my teeth as I stood. I needed my hands to run up her legs and one to slide into her. The way she curled her hips against my hand made me smile around the condom.

 Emma plucked the condom from between my teeth and tucked it into her bra, "Give me that." She was kissing me before the words died in the air. Her hands went for my jeans. A slow stroke of my cock preceded the sweet sound of my zipper. Her hand wrapped around me as soon as she had my jeans over my ass.

 I pushed my jeans down farther and nuzzled between her breasts. I grabbed the condom with my teeth and mumbled, "I need this back." I worked quickly, covering myself and bending my knees to push up into her.

 Emma cried out and I moaned loudly. I put my hands on her ass to lift her, using the wall to help support her. She wrapped her legs and arms around me, holding on while I thrust into her. There was nothing but the sounds of sex. No words, just sound. God, it felt good. All lust and need. I wanted the sex. I wanted the contact. I wanted the closeness. She fucking learned Romanian to use my name. That’s the thought that sent me over the edge. I buried myself deep and came hard.

Emma's fingers ran through my hair as her legs went back to the ground. My face was buried against her neck, "I think I smashed your wings."

She laughed, "They detach. Snaps."

"Oh, good." I pulled us away from the wall, feeling around for the snaps as she hugged me, her hands caressing my back. I undid the snaps and dropped the wings on my bag. "Come with me."

I took her hand, leading her to the couch. I led her to sit across my lap, her fingers ran over my chin. "I don't know if I like the gray patch or dimple more."

I didn’t care as long as she kept touching me, "I don't always have control of any hair on my body."

She kissed me lightly, "I saw I,Tonya."

I cringed, "Bad look all around."

"Everything grows back or can be shaved off."

I trailed my finger along her shins, over her knees, then back to her feet, "I lost a section of pubic hair for the Bronze." Her eyes widened with amusement. "Character had a tattoo. An Olympic medal."

 Emma laughed, "Narcissist."

I said the line, "I am the fucking god of gymnastics."

"We should watch that later tonight."

 "No, we shouldn't." I kissed her before she could voice any other shitty ideas. I moved my caress under her legs and when I got to the back of her knees her legs fell open, which was what I was going for. I kissed over to her ear, "That's what I wanted."

I slid two fingers inside her, rubbing the wall of her vagina to find her g-spot. I massaged internally and

barely used my thumb on her clit just enough to get amp things up.

Emma took a shuddering breath, "Talk to me."

I kept up the stimulation and moved my mouth close to her ear. The words came out in long sentences. Long Romanian sentences. When her nails started to dig into my arm I moved back where I could see her face. "You gonna come for me, baby?"

"I am."

I used more pressure inside and out.

 Emma gasped and arched her back, "Oh fuck, Bastian. Your fingers...”

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction

[conniejoworld]

DAVE LIEBER Our test of the post office delivers sad results O K, we know the mail is late. Often very late. Now The Watchdog can prove it. I ran a mail test last week by sending letters across Dallas-Fort Worth. The results are an embarrassment. The post office is looking at what could be its worst service breakdown in its 228-year history. You know most of the reasons: Overtime was halted. Blue collection boxes were taken off the streets. Sorting machines were disconnected and decommissioned like old Navy ships taken to a scrap yard. But The Watchdog has discovered another reason for mail not getting delivered on time. You probably didn’t hear about this reason. Starting in late July, before the delivery crisis began, the U.S. Postal Service launched a surprise test for mail carriers. The test came with a name that’s just mumbo-jumbo enough to confuse you. It’s called the Expedited Street/Afternoon Sortation test. A better name would be “the Carriers Only Get 15 to 30 Minutes to Get Out the Door Test.” Its purpose, according to top officials announcing it, is “to assist in reducing the morning office time for city letter carriers by enabling them to get on the street earlier.” The goal was “to enhance customer service by providing more consistent delivery times.” But here’s what happened. The test was unprecedented because it disrupted the normal flow of mail delivery. Almost 400 branches across the nation were ordered to participate, but I’m told that many other branches ended up testing some aspect of it. Inside the post office, it was nicknamed “Grab what’s there and go.” Carriers had 30 minutes (in some cases only 15) to finish prepping their mail for delivery, checking their vehicle, grabbing their scanner and keys and departing. Whatever mail was not sorted before that new grab-and-go deadline was left behind. There was always tomorrow to deliver the rest. Maybe. Within days, mail got backed up almost everywhere. With the elimination of overtime, no one was getting paid to finish the daily delivery. Undelivered mail was stored inside or left on loading docks. USPS’ own delivery standards were ignored. Among the late arrivals: medicines, income checks, bills. (Cue the dying baby chicks.) “The mail being processed was drastically delayed,” said Kimetra Lewis, president of the Dallas chapter of the National Association of Letter Carriers. The stress among her carriers was palpable. “The carriers were calling me on a regular basis” to complain, she said. “Nearly every office was implementing their own version of the test,” she said. “This test was totally different from ones in the past,” says Yared Wonde, president of the Dallas branch of the American Postal Workers Union. “This one is, if the mail is not cleared by 9 a.m., leave it on the floor for the next day.” You may have noticed my sources for this information are two local union presidents. That’s because for the first time in 15 years covering USPS, their media representatives are not allowed to talk to me. “We are not currently providing any interviews,” usually helpful spokesman Albert Ruiz told me. He didn’t give a reason, but I found it in a USPS directive that could have been titled “Our Bunker Mentality.” ‘Consistent message’ Vice.com first reported contents of the order: “The Postal Service continuously strives to project a positive image, protect its brand, and present a unified message to the customers and communities it serves,” the memo begins. “It is imperative that one person speaks on behalf of the Postal Service to deliver an appropriate, accurate and consistent message to the media.” And that one person is new Postmaster General Louis DeJoy, whose fast retreat from enacting his supposed reforms included everything but waving a white flag. After a people’s revolt led to bipartisan criticism from lawmakers, DeJoy issued a statement that he was pulling back. In one of the biggest retreats since Gen. Robert E. Lee fled the Battle of Gettysburg, DeJoy, who has donated more than $1 million to President Donald Trump’s campaign funds, promised to halt drastic actions that he and his minions had pushed in his first weeks on the job. In a forced change of heart, DeJoy vowed to maintain post office hours, leave mail sorting machines and blue collection boxes alone, keep facilities open and restore overtime. DeJoy vowed in his published statement: “To avoid even the appearance of any impact on election mail, I am suspending these initiatives until after the election is concluded.” That sounds counter to Trump’s motives. He has said that he initially opposed more funding for troubled USPS and hoped to avoid “universal mail-in voting” in his reelection bid. Yes, the postal service has massive short-term and long-term problems. But is now the right time to break the vast system into dysfunctional pieces? Ellis Burgoyne, who ran the Texas region as Southwest vice president 15 years ago before his promotion to USPS’ chief information officer, is now retired in Irving. He told me, “Holding mail a day to process was always a no-no. ... Total elimination of overtime and intentionally leaving first-class mail behind was never an option. We never had that, and I worked there for 35 years.” Sorting machines Why would you remove and dismantle working sorting machines in the midst of all these other changes unless you wanted to bog down the system, maybe even make it harder for mail-in election ballots to reach their destination before deadlines? Aside from the people in the processing plants, mechanical sorters are the heart of mail delivery. Wonde of the postal workers union estimates that between Dallas’ Main Post Office near Interstate 30 and the North Texas Processing and Distribution Center in Coppell, a dozen sorting machines have been removed in recent weeks. “They didn’t give any specific reason for that,” he said. “I officially requested how many machines were removed and how many were decommissioned.” He hasn’t heard back. Wonde said workers tried to put one of the machines back in operation at the Dallas plant, but they were missing important parts. My test I mentioned my test. Until a few years ago, a first-class letter mailed within North Texas, from and to a local address and dropped off before 5 p.m., usually arrived the next day. Now USPS service standards allow for a letter mailed locally to arrive in two days instead of one. How’s that working? I took addresses for 50 Dallas Morning News employees who live in Dallas-Fort Worth. On Monday night, I mailed 50 envelopes to them from my city post office. I also emailed my lucky 50 to let them know they’d been drafted into my experiment. Under USPS standards, all letters should have arrived in two days — by Thursday’s mail. But more than half didn’t. Only 21 arrived on time — or 42%. That’s a failing grade. Five more arrived one day late on Friday. As of Saturday morning, as I complete this, I’ve yet to hear back about 24 others, or 48%. Admittedly, this is no scientific survey. But with half of the sent letters failing to meet the goal, it’s an indicator. (The Watchdog wants to check again during early voting.) Burgoyne, the retired former USPS vice president for Texas, added that when he was in management, “Election and political mail, including ballots, had the highest priority.” (We’ll see if that tradition holds.) Lewis of the letter carriers’ union says she worries about the cost of this mess to USPS’ reputation: “We don’t know if our customers lost confidence in us. It’s frightening.” If you desire a mail-in absentee ballot, contact your county elections office for information. You can also request one online. Requests for mail ballots must be made before Oct. 23. Make sure you fill out your ballot and send it back as soon as possible. To qualify, you must be 65 or older, disabled or out of your home county on Election Day. The last day to register to vote is Oct. 5. Twitter: @DaveLieber

[timelinewrestling]

WWF RAW Jan. 11, 1993

The very first episode of Monday Night Raw opens on the street outside of The Manhattan Center with Sean Mooney explaining to Bobby Heenan that he can’t go inside because he’s been replaced on commentary by Rob Bartlett. Sean Mooney was a play-by-play commentator and studio anchor but was not long for the company after this appearance as he leaves in April. During this time, Bobby Heenan was not managing full time and mostly did work on commentary. He worked with Ric Flair on his current WWF run as well as another character that we will discuss later on. His main goal for this episode is to make it inside and take his job back.

A very 90’s intro package plays and we are inside with Vince Mcmahon, “Macho Man” Randy Savage, and Rob Bartlett. Vince was the lead commentator at this time and also conducted in-ring interviews. The rumor on Randy is that he was saddled with commentator duty even though he wanted to be in the ring full time. However, according to Bruce Prichard, Randy wanted to wind down his career and only wrestle part-time. Bartlett was a comedian and radio DJ who apparently didn’t know anything about wrestling except how to bury the wrestlers, the fans, and the company every chance he could.  After reading up on Bartlett, I am happy to see that most people at the time hated his commentary as much as I do and he didn’t stick around the WWF very long. Vince tries his best to make Bartlett seem funny but it soon becomes apparent that he is regretting his decision to hire him. It looks like Randy just tries to ignore him. 

There are two dark matches before the televised show begins. First, we have Damien Demento losing to Bob Backland by DQ and then Johnny Rotten losing to The Cheetah Kid. Later on, Demento would also wrestle in the main event of the night against The Undertaker. He started with the company several months earlier in October of 1992 and only lasted about a year, leaving in October of 1993. Backland had also just recently returned to the company and found himself stuck in the midcard as he wasn’t getting over with the younger fans who didn’t remember him. Johnny Rotten and The Cheetah Kid would later work together as Johnny Grunge and Rocco Rock respectively, forming the team ���The Public Enemy”.

Our first televised match of the night is Koko B. Ware VS. Yokozuna, or “Yokozuma” as Bartlett calls him. At this time, Koko is one half of High Energy with Owen Hart.  This was near the very end of Koko’s WWF career and he left the company a few months later. Bartlett jokes that Koko looks like Gary Coleman. Yokozuna makes his entrance alongside Mr. Fuji. Some girls in the ring offer flowers to Yokozuna in what I assume is sumo custom, as Bartlett makes fat joke after fat joke, followed by more fat jokes, specifically one about Yokozuna eating Koko’s bird, and also the term “Big Butted Oriental”. Vince notes that up to this point, Yokozuna is undefeated and hasn’t even been knocked off his feet. The three commentators keep trying to sell Raw’s motto, that it is “Uncooked, Uncut, and Uncensored” but they botch it several times in these first few episodes. They also mention that both Yokozuna and Macho Man will be participating in the upcoming Royal Rumble match. This match itself is a squash. What little offense Koko gets in is no-sold by Yokozuna. The best spot of the match is when Koko goes for a splash and ends up draped over the ropes. Yokozuna drops a leg on him, picks him up, chokes him into the corner, splashes him, climbs onto the 2nd rope and finishes him with a Banzai Drop. 

We then get a short ad for the Royal Rumble and then our first look at one of the “Raw Girls”. These women were Vince’s take on boxing’s ring girls who would take a lap and hold a sign showing the number of whichever round was coming up. This woman’s sign simply reads “Monday Night Raw”. As beautiful as they may be, I’d rather see wrestlers. Vince throws us to a pre-taped segment featuring Bobby Heenan discussing his client “Narcissus”. Of course, he is actually talking about Lex Luger’s new gimmick “The Narcissist”. They just hadn’t settled on that name yet I guess. It’s a little grating to hear Bobby and Vince say “Narcissus” over and over so I understand why they went with a different name. In Bobby’s promo, he tells Mr. Perfect that Narcissus is better than him in every way and it would be like comparing ice cream to horse manure. 

Back in the ring, our next match is about to start. It’s a tag team match between The Steiner Brothers and The Executioners. There were several different incarnations of “The Executioners” in wrestling. These particular guys are played by Barry Hardy and Duane Gill, who would later go on to be Gillberg. They would also portray The Toxic Turtles, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle gimmick for at least one match. The Steiners, however, were destined for bigger things. Rick and Scott were both accomplished amateur wrestlers and came to the company the previous year after leaving WCW. Randy mentions that the Steiners have a match at the Royal Rumble against the Beverly Brothers. Bartlett asks which Steiner is which and Randy no-sells him. Scott and his immaculate mullet start the match and quickly lay the smack-down on one of the Executioners. We also get Vince’s first “What a maneuver!” on Raw. At this point, we see Doink the Clown running around in the audience. I hate this distraction. It could have waited or just happened between matches. More on Doink later. Rick tags in and decimates the Executioner. Commentary is very bad during this match. They talk about Doink, Bartlett makes “jokes”, and Vince suddenly announces that football player Mitch Frerotte is coming to the WWF, which never actually ends up happening. Scott tags in and almost kills his opponent with a belly to belly suplex and then throws him into the corner. The other Executioner tags in and Scott hits him with a double under-hook power-bomb. He gets him up on his shoulders for Rick to jump off the top turnbuckle with a bulldog headlock. Scott hooks the leg and wins. It was good for a squash match, but Doink and commentary really took away from it. 

We cut back to Sean Mooney on the outside as he confronts Bobby Heenan who is dressed in drag and being held by security. That’s the whole gag. Heenan is charming and I’m sure this was funny at the time but I just don’t need it right now. The duality between this type of kid-friendly comedy and the whole “Uncut” thing they were going for is just confusing to me. But that’s just Vince, I guess. Next up, Vince conducts an in-ring interview with Razor Ramon. The Bad Guy comes out wearing my favorite shirt that I’ve ever laid eyes on and he is oozing machismo as always. They discuss the Royal Rumble and Razor’s upcoming match against Bret Hart for the title. Razor mentions how it took Bret 8 and a half years to get where he is and it only took Razor 8 and a half months. We see how Razor attacked Owen Hart on WWF Mania just to be cruel to Bret. Razor throws his toothpick at Vince and exits. As he leaves, Randy promotes the WWF and Red Cross’s “Headlock On Hunger” campaign to aid the hungry in Somalia. We also see a taped segment with Tatanka. Not a lot to say about that. 

This is Raw’s first title match as Shawn Micheals defends against Max Moon, who is played by Paul Diamond and NOT Konnan as some people believe. The gimmick was made for Konnan, but he left the company soon after. Since the gear fit, Diamond got the character. Shawn Michaels won the IC Title from The British Bulldog in a match that took place on October 27th the previous year but wasn’t aired until November 14th. At this time he had split from Sensational Sherry and was feuding with former partner Marty Jannetty. This is the best match of the night as you might expect. Shawn and Max Moon are both quick and effective. During the match, Vince mentions that Sherry will be present during Shawn Vs. Marty at the Royal Rumble, but it is unknown whose corner she will be in. Bartlett is fucking awful during this match. He does a Mike Tyson impersonation that goes on way too long, but Vince and even Randy just keep selling for him.  Doink is also present once again. After a two count, Shawn kicks out and unleashes a super-kick, followed by his finisher at the time, a teardrop suplex. He pins Moon to retain. 

We are shown some ads and then the Royal Rumble Report, presented by Gene Okerlund. This is Gene’s last year with the company until his return in 2001. He hypes up various matches for the upcoming Pay-Per-View, including HBK Vs. Marty Janetty and announces some names for the Rumble match itself. Shawn cuts a promo on Marty, calling him a simpleton and that Sherry will definitely be in his own corner. Marty cuts a promo back hinting that maybe Shawn doesn’t know Sherry as well as he thinks he does. Some more pre-taped promos are shown including Mr. Perfect, Mr. Fuji and Yokozuna (Fuji also calls him “Yokozuma”, just like Bartlett did.), and Hacksaw Jim Duggan. All of them are just proclaiming themselves the winner of the Rumble. 

Back to Mooney on the outside and this time Bobby is dressed up as a Hasidic Jew, still trying to get inside. Bobby then decides he will try to get in from the roof of the building. I’m over this bit. McMahon shills some tickets and botches the “uncooked” thing again. Then he throws us to the last episode of Superstars where Komala turns face on his Manager and Handler, Harvey Wippleman and Kim Chee and sides with Reverend Slick as his new manager. I’ll look more into these guys in the future when they actually appear on the show. Our main event is next. 

Damien Demento Vs. The Undertaker is the first main event on Raw. Demento is billed from “The Outer Reaches of Your Mind” and that sounds about right. The gong sounds and The Undertaker makes his way to the ring with Paul Bearer. The Undertaker would soon begin the feud that would lead to his most underwhelming Wrestlemania match ever, but tonight it’s only Damien Demento. The bell rings and Demento is on the offensive until Taker slams his head onto the mat. Taker hits all the signatures here. Old School, Shakespeare, and he finishes Demento with his Tombstone Piledriver. Dominant but not a complete squash, this was a pretty good main event. After the match, Vince advertises...Woody Allen Vs. Mia Farrow in a steel cage for next week’s episode, which is not funny and pretty disgusting. 

After the commercial break, Vince is interviewing Doink about how he likes to make kids cry and how Crush has warned him about that. Crush enters, tells Doink off, says “brah” and “brudda” a few hundred times, chases Doink around and then stands tall in the ring. Why was this here? It should have been before the Taker match at least. Finally, we see Bobby Heenan again and Mooney informs him that he’s finally allowed to go inside. After the show is over. 

There is a dark main event featuring Crush Vs. Bam Bam Bigelow that Crush wins by DQ, so I guess that is why the Crush/Doink segment was placed where it was, I just feel like it should have been handled differently. 

That was the first episode of Monday Night Raw. Overall it was an okay show. It’s not what you’d expect as a modern wrestling fan. I’d expect some bigger names on the first show, but there were decent enough matches. The only real gripe I have is that commentary made some of the show unwatchable. Shawn Vs. Max Moon was really good, but Rob Bartlett just made me want to skip it. I would recommend watching this show, just try to tune the guy out.

#wrestling #prowrestling #wwf #wwe #raw #wwf raw #wwe raw #monday night raw #90s #90s wrestling #Bobby Heenan #Sean Mooney #Vince McMahon #Randy Savage #Macho Man #Macho Man Randy Savage #Rob Bartlett #Bruce Prichard #Damien Demento #Bob Backlund #The Public Enemy #Johnny Rotten #Johnny Grunge #The Cheetah Kid #Rocco Rock #Yokozuna #Mr Fuji #High Energy #Owen Hart #Koko B. Ware

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Of the numerous Democratic presidential candidates who ran on an “I can beat Trump” message, Sen. Amy Klobuchar made perhaps the best case on paper. Lots of voters are basically looking for someone who can win the Midwestern states that are likely to prove pivotal in a general election — Wisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania — and Klobuchar seemed like a logical choice. In 2018, she cruised to reelection in Minnesota, a state very much like those other three — i.e. Midwestern with a large population of the white voters without college degrees who broke from the Democrats in 2016. She has plenty of experience (13 years in the Senate), but isn’t that old (59). And she has a fairly liberal record, but she’s not as far to the left as Sens. Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren (she’s never embraced positions like Medicare for All, for example).

But Klobuchar, who suspended her campaign on Monday, was never able to translate a strong theoretical case into reality. Her high-water mark was a surprising third-place finish in New Hampshire. She finished fifth in Nevada, with around 10 percent of the initial popular vote. She finished sixth in South Carolina, with just 3 percent of the vote. And although she had a chance to win her home state of Minnesota, she looked unlikely to win any delegates in most other Super Tuesday states. Like former South Bend, Indiana, Mayor Pete Buttigieg — who exited the race on Sunday — Klobuchar appears to be heeding the advice of Democratic Party elites who wanted to clear the center-left section of the 2020 field to help former Vice President Joe Biden consolidate the votes of more moderate Democrats and prevent Sanders from gaining too big a delegate lead on Super Tuesday. Buttigieg and Klobuchar are reportedly endorsing Biden tonight.

So what went wrong for Klobuchar’s campaign?

First and foremost: Biden. The most obvious reason Klobuchar struggled is simply that Biden was in the race. Both candidates were running on experience, electability and a liberal-but-not-too-liberal record. But Biden started the campaign with a much bigger national profile than Klobuchar has. He led in national polls for most of 2019. And Klobuchar, like many other center-left candidates, simply couldn’t dislodge him from that position.

Gender also likely played a substantial role in Klobuchar’s failure to catch on. Biden last won an election on his own — as opposed to running as vice president — in 2008, and that was in always-blue Delaware. Sanders is a democratic socialist who has only ever run in always-blue Vermont. Neither can really make a great case for their electability at the national level. But Democratic voters consistently rated Biden and Sanders as the most electable candidates, which probably reflects their strong performance in head-to-head polls against Trump and the fact that both are white men. It’s not totally clear that any woman running in 2020 — four years after Trump defeated Hillary Clinton — could have won the nomination by running on an electability-focused message.

If you take a “lanes” view of the primary, Klobuchar was also getting squeezed out by Buttigieg. There may have been room for one Midwestern, moderate alternative to Biden, but it seems like there wasn’t room for two. Klobuchar lost that mini-primary to the former mayor. Buttigieg surged to the top of the polls in Iowa in November and although he dropped back into the pack after a while, he went on to, essentially, tie for first there, then finish ahead of Klobuchar again in the other three states that have voted so far. Why did Buttigieg outperform Klobuchar? Maybe gender was a factor here too — perhaps some voters saw Buttigieg as electable because he is a man. But I also think that Buttigieg presented his biography (veteran, small-town mayor) in a compelling way, while Klobuchar struggled to distinguish herself from the other candidates running.

Finally, Klobuchar’s campaign lacked support among black and Latino Democrats. The flip side of being from a state with a lot of white voters, particularly white voters without degrees, is she also comes from a state that has few black (7 percent) or Latino residents (6 percent), and those groups make up an essential part of the Democratic primary electorate. Klobuchar, like Buttigieg, polled terribly among black and Latino voters throughout the primary season and struggled with both groups in Nevada and South Carolina. (She was the first choice of just 2 percent of black voters and 4 percent of Latino voters in Nevada, according to entrance polls. She won 1 percent of the black vote in South Carolina, according to the exit polls.1)

Part of Klobuchar’s weakness among those groups was probably because of Biden — he has been dominant among older black voters, for example, a group that Klobuchar could have plausibly appealed to if the former vice president weren’t in the race. We don’t have great data on the views of younger black voters vs. older black voters, but it’s likely that older black voters are more moderate, so that’s the bloc where Klobuchar was probably best positioned to make gains. Younger black voters have leaned toward Sanders.

Another way of saying all this, of course, is that the Democratic presidential field in 2020 was really big. A lot of candidates who looked good on paper — most notably, Klobuchar’s Senate colleagues Cory Booker and Kamala Harris — won’t win the nomination either. In a field that numbered more than 20 serious candidates, everyone, individually, was a long shot, and Klobuchar never caught the breaks she needed.

That said, Klobuchar still may get to the White House. She’s almost certain to be on the short list for vice president, particularly if Biden wins the nomination. She has the Washington experience that Georgia’s Stacey Abrams lacks, plus a long record campaigning in the Midwest that distinguishes her from Harris. (It’s very likely that a male Democratic nominee will pick a female running mate.) So Klobuchar could still get a chance to show that she can win the Midwest for her party — just not at the top of the ticket.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Perry Bacon Jr.

[spacejew]

oops accidental personal post I guess

It's weird that I almost feel the need to go here to personal blog again because of a handful of irl friends following what was supposed to be a private personal Twitter in theory, just for like, idk, internet strangers and friends I made online not those imported from meatspace. Also those character limits... Suffocating.

Anyways yeah things are kinda stable but dissapointing lifewise? I'm definitely in a rut and stuck somewhere I'm desperately trying to get out of. Also like. idk. Gender shit. I think I really fucked myself over hard when I made the decision a few years back to conviously bottle up all my dysphoria and trans feelings and bury them and repress them hard and just live as a very gay and feminine bi boy and like. hm. I think I've been happy since? But im thinking now that maybe. Because that's still a part of my psyche that haunts me every day. I might actually have been mildly depressed this whole time and like, still struggling to make important life decisions because of the anxiety of that. Idk. Maybe if I got a therapist and realistic attention to that all those years ago and it turned out to be very real n legit and i got to make tough choices and live my truth, I would be equipped now to actually be joyful and able to fully focus on hard work and taking risks and putting myself out there and being successful and shit. Idk idk idk. I just have to wonder if all this time I've actually been quite unhappy and filling the void with dumb shit and a good deal of dissociation and complacency. Idk. what I'm saying is maybe I made a big mistake there lmao and could've started transitioning, if that's right for me, 4-7 years ago maybe, who knows. Haha so fun. Fuck me. Big Regrets, lads. But also I still don't know if that's right. Which probs means it is who am I kidding. Oof. But it's ok life is a journey I'm full of wise shit and I know it's not the end of the world. It just kinda. Makes me so sad on behalf of the old me who would cry so much because of dysphoria and living in this body in this life. She knew. I don't know why I buried her alive like that. Anyways.

I spent all year struggling to make an animated short (which ended up being kinda long tbh like 10 minutes?) by myself mostly, just me and my mental blocks and executive dysfunction and shit, but I was v passionate about it and worked hard and got to actually bring a whole vision to life, with basically nobody to tell me what to do, just give me feedback that I wasn't obligated to follow. It came out pretty nice and I'm very happy that I got to tell exactly the story I wanted and try a cool new look and I just wish I gave myself more time to work on the actual animation part but I put my heart and endless weeks and months of refinement into the storyboarding and script and every little detail and I really feel accomplished and like it paid off -- and I even got to do a private screening at my summer camp job that I was called in to do one more time at the last minute right when I finished my film, it was a miracle and so perfect, everyone cried and truly loved it and felt touched by it. And then I went to animation festivals! And all this cool shit! But... I haven't been able to figure out a public screening thing yet. And I feel like all my excitement is gone now. And I really wanted to polish the look and some backgrounds a little, just some very quick rerendering and comp, but. I feel like too much time has passed, i just feel dissapointed. I haven't put it online yet cause I haven't done my public screening, cause of my stupid anxiety about little details and overall idk imposter syndrome I guwss I feel more ashamed of it than proud of it even tho it's probably good, and like I feel that everyone was excited to support me but probably nobody cares anymore.

Basically I had all the wind taken out of my sails. Oh and right when I was trying to get it off the ground I guess and push through, my grandma died. I'm so heartbroken I loved her so fucking much and. She never got to see the film cause of my stupid bullshit. I feel so bad about that. So so bad. Ugh. And it's a film very very hilariously blatantly directly based on me and my feelings and my real family history, ultimately besides other main themes it's about talking to your grandparents and family about the past and your current feelings. And in it the main character, a girl, cough cough even though it's basically me, cough cough go figure, gender shit, anyways the climax is her going back in time to talk to her great grandma, and it's very emotional and my best friend of like almost 10 years now composed and recording a music for that scene for me. And now when I eventually screen this, my entire family and also myself is gonna get torn to shreds by this scene more than intended because my own fucking grandma, who I was excited to show this film to more than anyone on earth, passed so unexpectedly without seeing it. Fuck. Why didn't I send it to her when she was in the hospital? Obviously cause if I did that that would make it real and she wouldn't get better and all I do is live in denial. Ugh. Anyways yeah. The point is I'm stagnant and in a rut right now and just want to move forward and focus on making new work and just get a real career relevant job already. Tough year hit a well needed high and now petering off back into misery. Not to be dramatic. I'm ok tbh I have a part time I'm slowly getting sick of and a loving supportive partner and some very good friends, tho not as many as I used to see regularly and that's kinda sad too. That's your 20s babey.

I just need to move on and make big changes. My pattern rn is like. Work fri-sun, if I'm lucky I get to hang out with friends or lovers, usually at least with my partner. on monday I recover from working. on tuesday I have dnd and usually get some stuff done but honestly just catch up on warframe with my clan friends. wednesday my partner and I got to the park and library for half the day and eat and draw and talk. on thursday I mentally prepare for work again and usually we go out to play another roleplaying game with her roommates friends. a lot of that free time that's been left unmentioned is spent being over at bae's sometimes so I don't have the ability to get much work done. Lately I've spent most of my time planning a dnd campaign which is fun but also too stressful on account of obviously I'm not playing it yet so like what's the point, sorry friends who have patiently waited for months for me to be ready to start the game for them. And also like. Yeah idk. just sad and confused and resting my weary heart and body after a very rough month after my grandma passed. But! I did accomplish a very crazy deep cleaning of my room. I threw out 14 bags of shit at the least. I wish I weighed it all, it was a lot. I feel so much more organized and cleansed from that. For the record I didn't have any trash in my room, nor was it every a mess. Just every single cabinet and drawer was crammed full of stuff and I guess I hoarded a lot of shit. I was able to throw away a lot of things I held on to be cause of sentimentality and I'm proud of myself for growing that way. So like. Idk. It's not all bad, baby steps. I still feel like I'm constantly improving as a person! I'm positive, optimistic. Just tired, anxious, and feel bad.

Also I finally got a new phone and because of my hubris I dropped it without a case and it shattered only two weeks in. The day I was gonna buy a case. But it's ok. Story of my life I guess. I can't keep everything pristine and polished forever, one day shit falls and breaks but it's still usable. It has character.

I wasn't expecting to dump everything like this, sorry yall. Thanks for reading I guess. Also I forgot how to do a read more on mobile lol sorry

#personal #capn whitey #tw death #i guess

[theonyxpath]

The above is Page 4 of the ongoing Trinity Continuum: Aberrant web comic You Are Not Alone that we started last week after a teasing build up of the cover. Long-time fans will recognize the character who comes together from vines and plant tendrils as Antaeus, who was one of the most powerful members of Team Tomorrow – at least in the first edition.

He may still be all that, or maybe not, but that’s why we’re doing the web comic as we are – to let everyone get acquainted with the world and characters of Trinity Continuum: Aberrant.

I have followed a few web comics these past few years (although right now I’m only following Stand Still, Stay Silent; a beautifully illustrated Scandinavian post-apocalyptic exploration epic – google it, it’s fantastic), and I think there’s a lot of value to them as a creator, so this very specific use as a lead-in to the new TC: Aberrant and its Kickstarter is really just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what we could do with the format.

For now though, we’re really interested in hearing how merging the sequential story with a sequential release set-up that will start to run at the same time as the Kickstarter will work for folks. We think the web comic format is excellent (especially with veteran writer Paul Jenkins nailing the feeling of the setting, and with the multi-talented Doug Stambaugh doing the art), but most importantly, do you?

Tell us what you think as the story develops – it doesn’t matter if you never checked out Aberrant before, or if you already know who Dr. Duke Rollo is – please let us know here or in the comments of the web comic!

And who knows? If this Trinity Continuum: Aberrant web-comic works out, maybe we’ll use the format to create more sequential storytelling projects – a new Exalted 3rd comic series of short comics like from 2nd Edition, or new “Tribebook style” werewolf comics, or something for Scion or Pugmire like nothing we’ve ever done before.

There are a lot of possibilities to explore!

V5 Chicago By Night art by Felipe Gaona

Now, you might have noticed that buried up there was a mention of the Trinity Continuum: Aberrant Kickstarter. It’s true, it’s going to start next week!

Just like our latest Kickstarters, we have the text completed, our Storypath experts (yes, we actually have some now that our creators have been able to pore over the Scion, Trinity Continuum, Dystopia Rising: Evolution, and They Came From Beneath the Sea! core books!) have reviewed and revised the rules sections, and we have a smattering of the art ready.

We’ll have amazing Reward Tiers: some with just the TC: Aberrant book, some with the Trinity Continuum Core book as well, and definitely the sorts of upper level rewards our backers just can’t get enough of! Plus lots of PDF packages that include first edition projects, and Stretch Goals for a staggering array of different sorts of added rewards – all themed to reflect and enhance that specific Aberrant take on the super-hero genre.

Aberrant, first edition, was both a labor of love and a nightmare of frenzied creation for me, personally, and for both those reasons I’m hugely excited about this new edition. As a very long-time comic book fan (I started collecting Marvel comics just as the cover price changed to 25 cents an issue, if you can believe that!) and a guy who did a graphic novel as his Masters Degree thesis, I was filled with ideas for how to bring a new look to comic book TTRPGs.

Not all of those visual ideas panned-out, some because we reached too far out of the TTRPG comfort zone, but most because in order to make them work we needed the original developer, the graphic designer (who also had designed the look for the Aeon books), and myself to all work together to take the writing into the different kinds of layouts and visuals needed that worked with both the Trinity series and the specifics of the comic book genre.

Unfortunately, both those other gentlemen left the project (and at least one of them left WW entirely for a while) before the book was finished.

M20 Book of the Fallen art by Oliver Specht

Basically, I had a pile of text to sub-divide as best I could into the sorts of sections that worked with the visuals. In comic book terms, I had the script and the art, but needed to combine them, but without the writer or original artist around to help tweak the two elements so they’d work together for maximum impact.

So I’d handle my Art Director and department head duties through most of the day, and then settle in and do the book layout (and coloring, and lettering, and logos, etc) into the night so that we’d get the book out on time. While I’d have really liked to make some alterations to the text, I just didn’t have the time to change it so much as to take the chunks and rearrange them.

That’s why I’m in the credits page as Art Director, and Ron Thompson is there for Layout – Ron was my White Wolf alias, and I used him when having my name in the credits too many times just looked like a bit too much me. To me, at least.

I tell you all that, so that I can tell you that this edition, Trinity Continuum: Aberrant, was not created that way at all. Or I should say, the love and excitement is still there, and not just from myself, but the creation process has been a full-team press of very dedicated creators.

From the early “big picture” talks between Impish Ian Watson and myself, to the continued “how are we going to do this?” conferences with me, Ian, Eddy Webb as Storypath games overseer, and Steve Kenson (who is THE guru of super-heroic TTRPGs) where we set up the details and changes to the setting, all the way through the confabs I had with Mirthful Mike Chaney as we picked through possible artists, this has been a fantastic team effort.

And we didn’t need to rush through any of the parts to get us here!

Finally, and in a totally different direction, here’s a teaser ad for ANOTHER cool thing happening next week in July. Keep an eye out on the Slarecian Vault community content page for a titanic (see what I did there) series of inter-connected releases that work together as an epic campaign!

And that’s it. So, so…

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

Starting next week, on Tuesday July 2nd at 2pm EDT, the Trinity Continuum: Aberrant Kickstarter will blast its super-powered way into our lives!

ONYX PATH MEDIA

Onyx Pathcast art by Michael Gaydos

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features an in-depth discussion with Dixie, Eddy, and Matthew taking a long look at harassment – a difficult subject that affects gamers and creators alike: what it is and how to deal with it!: https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

And Here’s More Media About Our Worlds:

The Onyx Path News returns tomorrow with a live edition on our YouTube channel at 15:00 BST! Be there for talk of new releases and project updates, as well as our next Kickstarter!

Matthew Dawkins has been uploading all the games of ours he’s been running lately, and is coming to the conclusion of the Scarred Lands actual play he ran for Red Moon Roleplaying! Here are links to the next two episodes: https://youtu.be/wKuyrVRB1EY and https://youtu.be/KxZzkpDmV-c

Travis Legge’s Scarred Lands actual play also continues apace here with Myths & Matchmakers: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLmiXCaSrrCIjmCJQQ7oLwLNahmDbdn_2J There are few people who know Scarred Lands like him!

Not leaving the Scarred Lands, we also have Devil’s Luck Gaming who continue their costumed actual play: https://www.twitch.tv/DEVILSLUCKGAMING

And it must be a Scarred Lands kind of a month, because Caffeinated Conquests continue to blunder through the Gauntlet of Spiragos here: https://youtu.be/ygamfg9yBak

Now venturing into the Chronicles of Darkness, we present Occultists Anonymous‘ latest episode of the Mage: The Awakening 2E chronicle they’re running (and they’ve been very impressed with Signs of Sorcery): Episode 23: Giant Problems Songbird speaks with the Supernal being he has summoned, Wyrd makes an important phone call, and the cabal feels mighty defensive! https://youtu.be/vjarpxda1Po

Episode 24: Nosey Neighbors Following the phone call to the cabal’s new “friend”, Atratus and Wyrd discuss and plan defenses, while Songbird goes to the gym to blow off some steam. Splitting the party…https://youtu.be/WBTzpXoNQnw

And swooping over to the world of Exalted, the Story Told Podcast continue their Dragon-Blooded actual play here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/fall-of-jiara-episode-8-a-journey-begins Eight episodes in and the adventure is really kicking off!

Roll the Role recently concluded their fantastic actual play of Trinity Continuum: Aeon, which is viewable on both their YouTube and Twitch channels, linked below:https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvGGHFXrqTyBA2wSCCbJbRcm7XoZh_cVk www.twitch.tv/rolltherole Please do give them your support! 

And the Keeper of the Archive (a more ominous name than the Gentleman Gamer) has just started their breakdown of Scion Second Edition over on their channel, so check out part one! https://youtu.be/q2qUE0pJID4

Lots of Onyx Path content for you today!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

ELECTRONIC GAMING

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we have two new creatures for Exalted 3rd‘s Hundred Devils Night Parade, as well as Dragon-Blooded digital wallpaper at DriveThruRPG, and Exalted Chibi style stickers at our RedBubble store!

CONVENTIONS!

Gen Con: August 1st – 4th Save Against Fear: October 12th – 14th GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd We’ll also be back at PAX Unplugged later this year!

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon) Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Redlines

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Development

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Manuscript Approval

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Editing

Memento Mori: the GtSE 2e Companion (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Heroic Land Dwellers (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

DR:E Jumpstart (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Post-Editing Development

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)V5 Chicago By Night Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

Distant Worlds (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Scion Ready-Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle

Dark Eras 2 – More finals in and going to WW for approval.

M20 Book of the Fallen

VtR Spilled Blood – Art from A and M in, waiting on the rest.

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds – Sketches coming in.

Trinity Continuum Aberrant – KS Sketches and finals coming in.

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Ex3 Lunars

They Came From Beneath the Sea – Getting it going.

TCFBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

In Layout

V5: Chicago – Starting NPCs chapter…

Trinity Core

Trinity Aeon

CoM – Witch Queen of the Shadowed Citadel 

Proofing

WtF Shunned by the Moon – 2nd proof.

DR: E – proof back from Eddy

Aeon Aexpansion

C20 Cup of Dreams – This week.

Ex 3 Monthlies – At WW for approval

At Press

Dragon Blooded – Deluxe shipping to Studio2.

Dragon-Blooded Cloth Map – Shipped to Studio2.

Dragon-Blooded Screen – Printing.

The Realm – PoD files uploaded.

Trinity Core Screen – Printing.

TC Aeon Screen – Printing.

C20 Player’s Guide – PoD proofs ordered.

Geist 2e – Need to input Errata.

Book of Oblivion – Putting in errata.

Trinity: In Media Res – PoD proofs ordered.

Scion Jumpstart – Gathering errata from Backer PDFs.

Scion Ready-Made Characters – Gathering errata from Backer PDFs.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

OK- so when I don’t have something specific to put here, I go to Wikipedia and look up the date and see who is born/died or any great events on this date. Today there was this:

637 – The Battle of Moira is fought between the High King of Ireland and the Kings of Ulster and Dál Riata. It is claimed to be the largest battle in the history of Ireland.

Now as is, this might be interesting particularly for Neall and the Scion community. Except I read it as the Battle of Moria, and for a minute I wanted to know which one, and was that the battle where Thorin got his Oakenshield appellation?

#Onyx Path Publishing

[slusheeduck]

Complementary

Wit’s been mentioning the other best Rivera son lately, so I figure it’s time to share this thing I wrote for her birthday, where Teto meets his lovely wife Jasmine.

               This was pointless.

               Teto huffed to himself as the thought ran over and over in his head. It really was the most pointless thing, going on a date. This would be the…third? time he’d been set up on one, and each one went exactly same way. “Are you related to Tío Héctor?” Yes, that was his father. “Are you a musician like him?” No. “Are you visiting from New York?” No, that was his brother. “So what do you do?” Business mostly. All followed by a few niceties and an assurance that his date did, in fact, have a lovely time, and she’d give him a call next week. (There was never a call, and he was always secretly relieved.)

               He fiddled with his glasses before checking his watch. He’d been waiting for fifteen minutes now, and he was more than certain he’d gotten stood up. Which, again, was kind of a relief. Sure, it was a bit of a pain to get all the way to this café without anything to show for it—he was behind on the Rivera Zapatos ledgers, and he’d arranged a meeting with a campaign manager tomorrow that he really needed to mentally prepare himself for—but a quiet lunch in a nice part of the city certainly wasn’t the worst thing he could endure.

               He checked his watch again and glanced around for his date—not that he knew what she’d look like, he realized—then pressed his lips together before reaching down into his bag and pulling out a notebook and his pen. If he had some downtime, then he could indulge a little bit. He flipped through the notebook and got to a half-finished diagram of a mechanized nailer for shoes. As much as he liked Tío Oscar and Tío Felipe and loved their inventions, they tended to take their time in the actual shoemaking department. But if he could put this together, then they’d save at least two hours per shoe, and his tíos could spend more time designing rather than nailing.

               He’d just written out some notes on the nailer’s size when a flurry of movement startled him. He looked up to see a woman letting out a huff as she quickly tried to pull off her coat.

               “Perdón, perdón,” she said breathlessly, shaking her head as he started to get up to help her. “I came here as quickly as I could. I made the terrible mistake of questioning my professor while being a woman, and the argument went much longer than I wanted it to.”

               Teto blinked. “What are you studying?” Mentally, he kicked himself—that kind of small talk came after the introductions, but she didn’t seem to mind.

               “Mathematics,” she said simply, brushing her short hair back into place. “Probably won’t find a way to use it outside of balancing checkbooks for the rest of my life, but I love the logic of it. Even when professors are less than logical about it.” She blinked as she looked up at him, then gave a small, embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I should at least wait until the second date to complain about school.”

               Teto returned her smile with his own small, unsure one. “I wouldn’t know.” He paused a moment, then added, “But then, I’ve heard that you’re not supposed to mention how bad you are at dating until the third date.”

               Her eyebrows rose, and she laughed, making Teto instantly relax, before she held out her hand for him to shake. “Jasmine Flores. And yes, I know it’s unfortunate.”

               “Can’t be worse than Teto,” he said as he gave her hand a shake.

               “Your parents named you Teto?”

               He grimaced and shrugged. “Well, no. It’s a nickname. A rotten one, but it’s easier than introducing myself as Héctor Rivera.”

               Once again, Jasmine’s eyebrows rose. “You have the same name as…”

               “Tío Héctor, sí.”

“Wow.” She gave a little smile as her eyes brightened. “I’m sure you get this a lot, but are you…”

Teto sighed, cutting her off. “Related? Yes. He’s my father.” He pressed his lips together tightly, then leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Look, Jasmine, you seem really sensible, so I’m going  to lay out everything right now so we don’t waste our time. No, I don’t play any instruments—I run the business side of my tíos’ shoe company. Yes, Rodrigo Rivera is my brother; no, I don’t talk to him often.  I’m not going to take you to a concert or a movie set for our second date—or, really, any date, because movie sets are off-limits and concerts give me terrible migraines.” He swallowed as he sat up. “I’m very sorry you wasted your time coming out here and that I made you rush from school, but I figured we could save about three hours of pointless chit-chat.”

               He watched her quietly, waiting to see her reaction. Would she be angry? Or maybe she’d just get up and leave. That’d be ideal. Worst case scenario would be her insisting they kept the date going despite her obvious disappointment.

               He was not expecting her to sink in her seat and let out a sigh of relief.

               “Gracias à Dios! Ay, all this week my friends have been teasing me with ‘Minita, we’ve set you up with someone related to the most ROMANTIC man in México!’ I’ve been terrified.”

               “Terrified?”

               Jasmine nodded, sitting up straight. “I thought I was going to walk into serenades and poetry. I don’t have the patience for that.” She looked up as Teto snorted.

               “Serenades? No, no. I have far too much respect to do that to you. A date’s bad enough without me wailing sweet nothings at you.”

               “They’re terrible, aren’t they?”

               “The serenades?”

               “No…well, yes, but I meant dates.” Jasmine shrugged. “I mean, you just put on your nicest face and hope that’s enough for someone you only halfway like to call you again.”

               Teto nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes. Exactly! And you just get all worked up for it to mean nothing. I could do so many other productive things instead of talking to someone I have nothing in common with.”

               “Exactly! And then I have to stay up late with my homework because I had some bore talk my ear off for three hours.”

               “Or had to answer stupid small-talk questions that neither of us really care about.”

               “Or go see some film I never wanted to see in the first place!”

               Teto groaned as he sank back in his seat. “I had one girl insist we see my father’s latest movie.”

               “No.”

               “Yes. It was awful.”

               “Oh, and they’re such sappy things. I mean, no offense…”

               “No, they are! They really are. And I could practically hear her waiting for me to call her ‘Mi alma, mi vida’ at some point on the walk home.”

               “Ohh, pobrecito.” Jasmine leaned forward to pat his hand. “Well, don’t you worry. I won’t put you through that.”

               He looked up at her and smiled, then leaned forward again. “So, since we’re on the same page, let’s just call the date off.”

               Jasmine gave him a wide smile as she leaned forward as well. “That is the best date idea I’ve ever heard. We’ll let this die without a fight. Deal?”

               “Deal.”

               They stayed put for a moment, both grinning in triumph at the other at their grand idea. But Teto blinked, and Jasmine sucked in her lips as they didn’t move. It wasn’t…awkward—Teto had had enough awkward moments to know what that felt like—but something in him wanted to stay right there with her. After all, it seemed like such a shame to leave one of the few people he’d ever been on the same page with. But, well, he didn’t want to be a bother. He raised his eyebrows as Jasmine cleared her throat.

               “So, um, yes. Date’s cancelled,” she said, as she settled back. “But…well, it seems a little bit of a waste to come here and not have lunch.”

               Teto bit the inside of his cheek before he slowly replied, “It does, doesn’t it?”

               Jasmine sucked in her lips again, then nodded down at his notebook. “Is that for your business?”

               “More or less, yes. I was writing some notes when you came.”

               “I’ve still got my math book in my bag—I wasn’t kidding when I said I came straight from school.” She shrugged. “We could at least get some work done.”

               Teto nodded. He bit at his cheek again, then leaned forward and quietly asked, “I hope you don’t mind if I stay here. It’s a little crowded, and I’d feel awful taking up an extra table.”

               A smile curled at Jasmine’s lips, and she nodded. “I’d be glad to share a table with you. To work on. Not a date.”

               Teto grinned. “Definitely not a date.”

               The next hour was surprisingly lovely. They both mostly worked in silence, aside from the odd comment on the quality of their food or Jasmine asking Teto to double-check her work. Finally, they agreed they’d overstayed their welcome at the café and made their way out. (Jasmine still staunchly insisted that she needed no help with her coat, and Teto didn’t fight her.)

               Once they exited, they stood in an expectant, but strangely not uncomfortable, silence. Teto shifted back and forth, and Jasmine took a breath before fixing her dark eyes on him.

               “That was nice,” she finally said.

               “Very nice.”

               “And I think I’d like to do it again.”

               Teto blinked. Oh. He wasn’t prepared for that. “Would you really?”

               She smiled and nodded. “You’re a very good work-partner. Seems a shame to just say goodbye and miss out on more not-dates like this.”

               He blinked again, then gave her a slow grin. “It’d be an awful shame. Finding someone to not-date is outrageously hard.”

               She grinned, then pulled a paper from her bag and quickly scribbled a phone number on it. She hesitated, just for a moment, before pressing a kiss right below it. “I’m the only girl at the university who wears this color, so you won’t forget who it is,” she said as she handed the now-marked paper to him. “Give me a call when you get the chance, all right? Or don’t. I don’t want to—”

               “I will!” Teto said quickly, then cleared his throat and smiled. “Like you said. Seems a shame to just say goodbye. I’ll call you Monday.”

               Jasmine smiled. “Then I’m looking forward to it, Héctor.” As his eyebrows rose, she grinned and pat his chest. “Someone needs to stop calling you that awful nickname. It may as well be me.” She lifted her face to look up at him for a moment, dark eyes sparkling, then quickly turned to walk away, hand raised in a goodbye. “Talk to you Monday, Héctor!”

               Teto stared after her for a moment, a blur of strange emotions bubbling up in his chest and rooting him in the spot. Finally, he broke from his trance to look down at the paper in his hand, noting how the lipstick stain curled up at the corners in a smile.

               He wasn’t a sap. Dating was still stupid, and he and Jasmine were definitely not about to start going through all the fuss that dating ensued.

               But for the first time…well, maybe he could see the appeal.  

#Villain AU #Hector Jr. #Jasmine Rivera #They actually have THE CUTEST AND MOST FUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP #And Teto adores his wife just like any other Rivera man would #Just a little quieter