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MOBILE EMMC REPAIRING COURSE | MOBILE EMMC REPAIRING COURSE IN TILAK NAGAR DELHI
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Exceptional Quality and Affordable Prices is Our Goal.
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A Reflection Of Venus
chapter: 1 chapter 2 | 3 | 4
pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader
summary: For years Acacius was able to keep his precious and only daughter away from the Emperor's eyes. But after his latest victory, he couldn't evade the already inevitable.
warning(s): mention of alcohol consumption | swearing | sexual implications | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything
Note: Reader is the daughter of General Acacius and his wife, which is not Lucilla in this fanfiction.
word count: 3.1k
General Acacius was a hero for the Roman Empire, a sun that was burning brighter with every new victory he won in a new war campaign ordered by Emperor Geta and his twin brother Emperor Caracalla. The reign of the twins was nothing compared to one of their deceased father Emperor Septimius Severus, who was once one of the closest friends and brother-in-arms of Acatius. While Severus fought wars mainly to protect the borders of the already massive Empire, his sons' hunger for expansion became clear from the very first day they inherited the title "Emperor". And general Acacius became their tool in this project. Nothing was too expensive, they backed him with legions, war-ships, the best equipment and supply, and the capable general became an unstoppable force, a soldier of the God Mars himself. But at what cost?
As the years went on, he'd rarely been home, always travelling with his marching soldiers and being on the front line of every battle he fought. And when he came back, he felt sick from all the pomp and gold the Emperor's threw at him, the victory processions through Rome, while the smell of blood still lingered in his nose and the cries of the women and children echoed in his mind. It was one of those days. The sun stood high over the wide street that lead to the Palatin, the sides filled with the cheering crowd - common people, soldiers, slaves, senators, merchants, they all celebrated his victory in a triumphant procession. His marching soldiers were led by Acacius chariot, clothed in the white armor of a victor. His face could've been one to be carved in marble, stoic and upright, facing the great Palatin, where the Emperors would await him.
Geta and Caracalla - the twin-sons of Septimius Severus, Emperors of Rome. They stoof there in golden Armor like sun gods with their golden crowns on top of their short gingerblonde hair. Their unusual pale skin was a testament to their wealth as they could afford to stay out of the sun, which burns especially hot on summer days like this one, and of course on the battlefields in Africa, where Acatius' men had to fight against the rebellious Nubians. They awaited their victor with proud smiles on their lips, while Acacius' procession ended at the footsteps of the Emperor's palace. He walked the marble steps towards them, his long cloak moved in tact with his walk. He didn't look forward to see the faces of Rome's tyrants again, but they hadno idea.
Instead, he greeted them as he was used to. His hand on his chest, speaking the words.
"I greet you, my Emperors. Nubia is no more. I present a new victory to you, to the realm and to the Roman people."
With a proud look on their faces and a wide smile, the twins stepped forward. Emperor Geta hold the laurel wreath of victory in his hands and places it on top of Acacius' greying hair.
"And Rome rewards it's heroes with gratitude and admiration. We bow to your victories, General Acacius."
With those words, he offered him to turn around and face the celebrating crowd. Geta and Caracalla took their places at his side, giving him a moment of spotlight, applauded by the people, while they did benefit from it as well. Acatius was their general, their armored knight. Every victory he presented was another triumph for their own reign and power. After the earned celebration in front of the common folk, the Emperors and Acacius retreated inside, where servants quickly served them wine for a toast.
"Another great victory, you never disappoint us, dear Acatius," Geta expressed and hold his glass up for a toast, his brother Caracalla following the gesture. "To the glory of the Roman Empire".
"To the glory of your reign", Acacius lied and took a sip from his glass, trying to numb himself a bit with the taste of the alcohol. How he hated conversations with both of them.
" But don't get too comfy here, my brother and i were already discussing another campaign soon. You'll get everything you need, just tell us how many soldiers and ships and it will be granted," Geta explained, which left a bitter taste in Acacius mouth. His jaw clenched for a moment, while he tried everything not to show his distaste about another war campaign.
"Please forgive me, my Emperor, but isn't the realm big enough already? Rome has already difficulties to feed the people. Further expansion would-"
"They can eat war", Emperor Caracalla threw in with an almost diabotical grin, while Acacius got a warning eye from Geta. It was clear that his words weren't the ones both wanted to hear right now.
"Don't worry about things like that, Acacius. You're a military general, your job is to win battles - nothing more. Do you understand?"
"I understand," he answered, even though he hated to hear that he was reduced to this. He'd experienced war and peace alike and therefore he knew about the dangers of continuing this madness. Moments like this really let him question if those maniacs were of the same blood as Septimius Severus.
"But you're right, you've earned yourself at least a bit of rest - one or two weeks. Don't worry, we've taken care about the wellbeing of your family. They got everything they needed and more in our attempt to show our gratitude for your service to the throne. Speaking of which.... we expect you to join us for a great feast tonight - here in the palace. A party to celebrate your victory, it is accompanied by a couple of fights in the arena tomorrow," Geta explained joyfully, while Acatius tried to keep his mask up.
"I am incredibly honored, but would prefer to spend time with family after being away for such a long time."
"The Emperors show you their gratitude and you're insulting us. We expect you to come and you will come", Caracalla hissed with a sudden shift of tone, his eyes staring at Acacius in clear anger, while his brother placed his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. But his staring eyes were warning Acatius once again.
"Of course, we don't just invite you, but your whole family. Bring your wife and... you have a daughter, if i'm not mistaken? We haven't had the pleasure of getting to know her yet, since you never brought her to any festivities. I am sure she will be delighted, if you don't plan on hiding her again."
Acacius stood there in silence, a reaction that made Caracalla burst out into laughter as if he'd just heard the funniest joke from his brother. The respected general didn't even look at him, why should he. Standing here in front of them should've been an honor, yet it felt like a disgrace. They were nothing but spoiled kids with the power of an empire in their hands. And now they even forced him to reveal his dear daughter to them. Something he tried to avoid for too long, knowing fully well about the debauchery and excessiveness of Geta and Caracalla.
"We're waiting for an answer, Acacius?", Caracalla purred with a wide grin on his pale face, revealing his gold tooth.
"It will be an honor to be your guest... together with my daughter."
_____________________________________________
You watched the face of your father sunken away in his thoughts, as you made made your way to the palace in a palanquin carried by a couple of slaves and protected by soldiers. The city was painted in darkness which made the palace seem like a temple with all the lights that welcomed you. It was an exciting moment for an upper-class lady to be a guest at the palace, especially for you, a woman that usually stayed away from the most parties. Not because you wanted to, but because it was an order from your father. You obeyed, yet it bothered you, even more when you'd reached the age of a young woman - the age in which it was expected from you to find a proper husband.
"Why are you so worried, father?", you finally managed to get off your lips, pulling Acacius out of the battle he fought in his head. He couldn't just tell you that he despised all of this and especially the Emperors himself as he couldn't be sure if someone outside this palanquin could hear him. So he simply took your hand and placed a soft and caring kiss on the ring that had been a present for your last name day.
"I guess I'm rather tired than worried. The parties in the palace are always quite excessive, music, dances, feasts... i just came back from the desert and now i have to enjoy all those things", he sighed and looked at you. "And i don't want to stay too long, especially not till the orgy starts. The servants will come and bring us home before that." And even you knew he would rather go and murder Dyonisos himself than allowing his daughter to stay and witness this.
All those words and yet you knew it wasn't everything.
"I'm glad that you take me with you this time. I've only known the imperial palace from afar," you confessed, while you straightened the long, blue dress you wore. It was decorated with all sorts of silver embroidery and jewelry, encapturing the stars and moon. Your long hair was styled by your servant Yanna into a high braid and finalized with a silver diadem. For the first time you really got the chance to make yourself so presentable that you almost felt like a princess. In the end, you were about to meet the Emperors which made it important to look like the woman you were - the daughter of a general. And you also presented his household tonight, because your mother felt sick tonight. She often suffered from migraine, which kept her a prisoner for days sometimes.
"You really look beautiful", your father said to you, it was honest, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes, which you still couldn't grasp. But there was no chance to take this conversation further as the palanquin stopped. Acacius got out first to help you out. He knew the way as it wasn't the first time for him to attent an official ceremony or party here. Through a long corridor you reached a large room with with an open access to the garden terrace facing the beautiful gardens. It was packed with people from the Roman upper-class, wealthy merchants, politicians and military officers, who were accompanied by their wives, sons and daughters. While they chatted and feasted on the large selection of delicious looking food, a group of musicians played their melodies to which professional dancers moved their bodies.
All those private parties at the homes of your friends seemed to vanish straight from your mind, nothing could be compared to what you were seeing now. It nearly took your breath away, while two royals were watching you from the other side of the room.
_____________________________________________
Geta and Caracalla were sitting on a higher ground, which was highly decorated with two golden chaise longues, cushions and velvet drapes. They were accompanied by a selected group of slaves, women and men, who were assigned to bring them anything they wanted, to do anything they wanted.
While Geta was in in a conversation with one of the senators, which clearly bored him according to his facial expressions, it was Caracalla, who noticed the new guest first, while he fed his little monkey Dondus a grape.
"Such a shame that he hid his daughter for so long. She is a gorgeous looking bird, don't you think? ", he whispered to his brother with a mischievous grin, patting his arm so that he would turn his attention to Acacius and you. Geta's eyes quickly went to you, admiring the way your dress hugged the shape of your curves.
"The gods must've sent us Venus herself to honor us with her presence," Geta answered, while an unreadable smile played on his lips. „No wonder our dear General is so protective of her. Is she already promised to someone?“
„Why do you ask me!?“ Caracalla snapped back, as if his brother didn’t know that he had a lot of spies around the city, who delivered him the newest gossip from the streets of Rome. With an annoyed eye roll, he leaned forward, adjusting the golden laurel wreath on his head. „No, she is a blank parchment. Probably untouched too.“
Geta still watched you with an intense interest as if you were a rare diamond, he needed to claim. But he was not the only one in this room, because Caracalla stared at his brother, noticing the way he looked at you. There it was again, the old melody. Whenever he wanted something, Geta wanted it too. They already shared the title of Emperors, their wealth, their whores… It was already something that cooked in him for a long time. But now he had an eye on you and wasn't happy about the fact that Geta might try to get you too.
Before he could even bring this thought to an end, his twin brother Geta already stood up from his chaise lounge and made his way through the crowd, the direction was clear. Caracalla's nose twitched in a mixture of nervousness and anger, and he got up quickly as well, not as gracefully as he wanted to, but he didn’t care. He had to tame the inner urge to backstab his brother before he could even reach you.
_____________________________________________
You still stood at the side of your father sipping on your first goblet of fine wine, while your eyes went over all the different guests and the excessive decor. Your father was sunken in a conversation with another general, Marcus Galbanus, an old friend and brother-in-arms of Acacius. But their conversation quickly stopped as soon as the Emperors approached them. Both your father and Marcus Galbanus lowered their heads and greeted them according to the etiquette, while you curtsied deep. This was the very first time you got the chance to meet the Emperor's of Rome Caracalla and Geta. And given the importance of those two figures, you even felt a little nervous.
"We almost feared you wouldn't show up to your own party, Acacius. But we're happy you made your way here... we already heard that your dear wife lays sick. Please, send her our best wishes. Nonetheless we would be delighted if you could introduce us to your company tonight", Geta demanded in a playful tone, knowing how much Acacius had tried to delay this. Caracalla stood at his side, his staring blue eyes drilled themselves into your appearence. Even though he was a man that had tasted a lot of men and women, one even more sensual than the other, your whole appearence, your face, your lips, your smile, everything - you reached a sentience in his mind that could only be gifted by the gods. The mere thought of having you infected his brain like a curse.
You could sense the tension that raised in your father as if everything in him resisted the situation. Yet he placed his hand softly on your shoulder and did as they wished. "This is my daughter, y/n..."
"I'm honoured to meet the Emperors of Rome", you said in a soft voice, earning you an appreciating smile by Geta and an unreadable grin of Caracalla.
"Oh the pleasure is on our side, my dearest. How do you like this Ceremony in honor of your father's victories?", Geta asked. But before you could even answer, his brother added, while he took another sip of his wine "Your father is a Roman hero through and through, isn't it right Acacius?" His tone had something else in it, almost as if it was some kind of mistrust. But you needed to ignore the irritation you felt and simply nodded.
"It is breathtaking. I've never witnessed something like this and it makes me incredible proud to see the gratitute he earned himself through the love he has for Rome and its people," you answered, trying to remind the Emperor's of Acacius loyality, which was undoubtful.
"Then you'll enjoy the ceremony in the arena tomorrow as well, i'm sure. Please, we invite your father and you to be our guests."
"I don't think that such entertainment is suited for a young woman of her status," your father suddenly interfered in a calm yet set tone, only earning the laugh of Caracalla. "Let your daughter decide for herself, General."
The atmosphere shifted to an unspoken intensity. You could sense your father's worries and given all what you've heard from the colosseum, you didn't really think of it as something worth to witness. Seeing people die in such a terrible way only for the pleasures of the masses seemed like a farce. Acacius always called it the most needless form of brutality amongst humans, he despised this himself and therefore avoided going into the arena whenever he could. But you also read the eyes of Geta and his brother, who waited for your answer and would not accept a simple 'No'.
"It would be an honour," you answered, and Geta leaned forward a bit, which made your father's jaw clench in anger. Not because of your answer, he was aware that a choice was not existing, when facing an Emperor, but because the way the twins looked at you as if you were a price they could simply claim. But you were a smart girl and definitely not naive, so he fully relied on that.
"So this is a 'Yes'?", Geta asked again and you looked him straight in the eyes, not backing off. "Yes."
"Excellent!", Caracalla shouted and clapped into his hands. "We'll have a lot of fun tomorrow."
The corners of Geta's mouth twitched to a smile and he nodded in response to his twin. Yet he hid his displeasure of having him as a rival in this little game. It was clear that Caracalla had layed his eyes on you too, but he won't allow him to simply take and fuck you like you were a common whore. Maybe you could've potential for something more and strenghten his position as well as his popularity. Because both Emperors were still unmarried - and it was expected from them that this would change sooner or later.
#gladiator 2#gladiator ii#emperor caracalla#emperor geta#general acacius#geta x reader#caracalla x reader#joseph quinn#pedro pascal#fred hechinger#gladiator ii imagine#kabuki writes
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Outdoor Gym Equipment Manufacturer: Providing Quality and Innovation for Fitness Enthusiasts
Introduction
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Dirty Cash.ᐟ
Viktor x Fem! Reader
In which, you suddenly get a tone of money. Who knew that you had to do some dirty work for it.
a/n: hi divas!! I saw a lot of people liked my other Viktor oneshot so here's another one! this one isn't my fav cuz its lowkey short but I think its cute
━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━
“Where on earth did you get that?” Viktor exclaimed, his eyebrows knitting together in astonishment as he stared at the box of expensive, high-tech equipment you had just carried into the dimly lit lab. The box was adorned with sleek designs and the latest technology, a stark contrast to the cluttered workbench scattered with dusty tools and disassembled gadgets. You couldn’t help but smile, tilting your head playfully to one side.
“Do you have any idea how much these are?” he continued, his fingers delicately brushing over one of the intricate components, marveling at its craftsmanship. You held your breath for a moment, glancing off to the side as if considering your next words carefully, then shrugged nonchalantly. With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you replied, “Don’t ask and enjoy,” punctuating the statement with a wink while leaning casually against the desk, exuding an air of confidence.
Viktor’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning as he sorted through the various parts, his mind already racing with possibilities. “You have no idea how rare these are…” he muttered under his breath, becoming engrossed in the treasure trove of trinkets laid before him.
After a brief, absorbed silence, Viktor paused, placing the delicate gear back in the box. He leaned back in his chair, a faint sigh escaping his lips, and regarded you with a skeptical expression. “Did you steal these?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow as he scrutinized your demeanor. The intensity of his gaze made you hesitate for a fleeting moment as you tried your best to maintain an innocent facade.
“I just had some… spare money. Why not spend it on my favorite inventor?” you replied, tilting your head slightly and pouting to soften the edges of the conversation. “Don’t you trust me?”
Viktor let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You? Have spare money?” he scoffed, a frown forming on his lips as he redirected his attention to the cluttered box. “And for one, I don’t trust you.”
You allowed a smirk to dance across your face, your shoulders shrugging in a carefree manner. “I had some… dirty work, let���s say,” you suggested with a hint of mischief in your voice.
Viktor’s expression shifted, his curiosity igniting as he leaned forward, his body tensing slightly. “Dirty work?” he echoed, his voice trailing off as his eyes drifted over your figure, assessing you with a newfound suspicion. Your cheeks flushed under his gaze. “Of course not! I haven’t gone insane,” you retorted quickly, adding, “I just did some work. In the Undercity.”
“What kind?” Viktor pressed, his interest now piqued as he frowned, searching your face for clues.
“Just covering some people’s tracks,” you replied, casual air about you, though the words hung heavy in the air. “They paid me a lot,” you added, throwing him a playful wink to lighten the gravity of the situation.
Viktor fell quiet, the surprise and concern battling within him. After a moment, he nodded slowly, his expression softening. “And you spent it all on these parts?” he inquired, a hint of disbelief creeping back into his tone. “On me?”
“I didn’t spend all of it on you,” you giggled, slipping off the edge of the desk to approach him. Leaning slightly over his shoulder, you whispered teasingly, “Or maybe I did,” allowing your breath to brush against his ear, an intimate gesture that sent a thrill down both of your spines. You tilted your head again, your smirk widening.
“Have fun with your brand-new toys,” you said softly, stepping back to create space between you two as you turned to leave the lab. Viktor stood there, confusion swirling in his mind, a string of curses escaping his lips as he realized the complexities of your actions. “Damn it,” he thought, a flicker of gratitude igniting within him—he owed you one.
#x you#oneshot#x reader#arcane#viktor arcane#arcane viktor#arcane x reader#viktor x reader#viktor x reader arcane#viktor league of legends
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Heyy, could you maybe do an age difference reader x Toto Wolff or sunshine x grumpy, where he has one of his headphone breaking moments and she scolds him in the middle of the garage? Like I’d find super funny like his smaller, younger wife yelling at him for breaking his headphones and the fans and media eating that up haha. Please and thanks!! <3
The hum of the Mercedes garage was as familiar as it was chaotic, a rhythm of voices, machinery, and focused intensity. Engineers moved swiftly, the clatter of tools punctuating their discussions as mechanics fine-tuned the car for the upcoming race. Amidst the organized chaos, you stood by the monitors, scanning data with a calm focus that contrasted sharply with the frenetic energy around you.
Then it happened.
“Verdammt!” Toto’s voice boomed from the other end of the garage, startling even the most seasoned team members. Heads turned to see him, towering as always, but now radiating frustration. His expression was a storm cloud, and in his hands were the remnants of his latest pair of Bose headphones, the poor device snapped clean in two.
You let out a sigh, half amused, half exasperated. Your husband—the esteemed team principal of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, feared and respected across the paddock—had once again succumbed to his infamous headphone-breaking habit.
“Oh no, not again,” you muttered under your breath. You handed your tablet to a nearby engineer and strode across the garage, weaving through the maze of equipment and personnel. The team parted like the Red Sea as you approached, sensing what was about to unfold.
Toto stood there, oblivious to the audience he had attracted. His broad shoulders heaved as he tried to rein in his temper, the broken headphones dangling from his massive hands. He looked every bit the grumpy giant he was known to be, but to you, it was just another Friday.
“Toto Wolff,” you began, your voice sharp enough to cut through the air. His head snapped up, and his stormy gaze softened—just a little—when it landed on you. But his sheepish expression did nothing to quell your determination.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” you demanded, planting your hands on your hips. Despite being significantly shorter and younger than him, you had no trouble commanding the attention of a man who could intimidate entire boardrooms.
“They broke,” Toto said, as if that explained everything. He held up the shattered headphones as evidence, his Austrian accent thick in his defense.
“Oh, really?” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words. “Did they break, or did you break them? Because I’ve lost count of how many pairs you’ve destroyed this season alone. What is it now, five? Six?”
A snicker rippled through the garage, and you caught George trying to suppress a grin from where he stood by the car. Even the media personnel hovering near the entrance couldn’t hide their amusement, cameras clicking furiously to capture the moment.
Toto’s ears turned red, a rare crack in his composed demeanor. “It was… a stressful situation,” he mumbled, looking anywhere but at you.
“Stressful?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “And snapping your headphones in half helps how, exactly? Are you planning to intimidate Red Bull with broken electronics now?”
The garage erupted in laughter, and Toto’s lips twitched, caught between a scowl and a smile. He shifted awkwardly, the 6’4” team principal suddenly looking very much like a schoolboy caught red-handed.
“You need to control your temper, mein Liebling,” you said, softening your tone but not your resolve. “You’re setting a terrible example for the team. And for the record, I’m not buying you another pair. You can use the cheap earbuds like everyone else until you learn some self-restraint.”
Toto’s eyes widened, the horror of your words sinking in. “Not the earbuds,” he said, as if you’d suggested he race barefoot.
“Yes, the earbuds,” you confirmed, folding your arms. “Consider it a lesson in anger management.”
Another wave of laughter rippled through the team, and even Toto couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. He looked down at you, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and affection.
“You’re terrifying when you’re angry,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.
“Good,” you replied, poking a finger into his chest. “Maybe you’ll finally listen to me.”
As you turned to walk away, the garage buzzed with whispered commentary and stifled laughs. The moment had been caught by every camera in the vicinity, and you had no doubt it would be all over social media within the hour.
A shadow loomed over you, and you turned to see Toto standing there, an apologetic smile on his face. In his hand was a hastily repaired pair of headphones, held together with duct tape.
“I’ll behave,” he promised, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “No more broken headphones.”
“Good,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “Because next time, it’ll be the earbuds and no kisses for a week.”
He groaned dramatically but nodded, retreating to his post with his makeshift headphones. You shook your head, a fond smile tugging at your lips. He might be a grumpy giant with a penchant for breaking expensive electronics, but he was your grumpy giant. And if keeping him in line meant scolding him in front of the entire team, well, you were more than up to the task.
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Helllloo!!
I would like to request a senkuu x reader if possible! (Preferably some angst + romance but anything works!) Been looking for some inspiration and I love your work!
Also hopefully you're okay if I draw some of your work too
Thank youuuu!! (>u<)/
im okay with you drawing my work! saw some of ur art, and wow! glad ur a fan tehee :33 i see you've given me an angst plot, with romance? yes i will definitely fulfill this. i waaaassss ssupposed to make this action filled with scene wit reader dying in battle of treasure island arc and senku going "WHAT" and head in hands and sobbing and the gang has to go back to the mainland hat on stomach like ":(" but exams and research defense finished and i also jus watched cute little vid of an old couple so this is jussttt hmmm a softer angst set between events ig
"ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ."
[ꜱᴇɴᴋᴜ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
It wasn't really a secret. You didn't even try, honestly.
Since the first of times of where you'd glimpsed his face at school, to the latest catch of him swirling fluid in a beaker, you've always been confident in your feelings.
Albeit a bit clumsy in your attempts, you were honest, never mincing them, never embarrassed.
"Senku, I really really like you!"
"Yeah, okay, could you pass me that screwdriver?" he says, both of you 6 years old in his room, as he gestures to the tool beside you.
"Senku, I want to date you. I heard Aimi had a boyfriend recently and I was thinking-" your voice goes interrupted as the loud sound of Senku's machinery overpower yours. 13 years old, another one of his favorite past times.
"Senku, if we were both nobles in medieval fantasy and I had to marry someone in order to get a persistent suitor off my back, I'd go to you. Offer a contract with an eventual divorce, but then we fall in love in a slow burn romance and start rethinking about our agreement."
"Can you- just- HELP ME, DAMN IT." Senku heaves, 16 years old, face turning red as he struggles to hold the boxes of equipment you came to help him with.
All these confessions, all these words, even before everything changed. The clatter of a can hitting the ground.
...
In this new life, surely, you know, Senku's had an absolute goal for this world. To rebuilt it as it was, from his own two hands. In your own way, you've had to learn how to pace your feelings.
Instead of words, as you always did, you decided to translate your affections into a language that matters most in a time like this.
Actions.
For every problem, every step he takes, you take with him. Express your thoughts, concerns, ideas. Any progress, you're there to celebrate with, any process, you're there to assist.
Declarations of love aren't so frequent, though you do like to sneak it in rarely. Announcing it in bursts of passion at the top of your lungs. Quite an antic you do, much to his embarrassment. It's become a well known fact, and often a joke between company.
Though, sometimes you wonder if it's what makes him doubt it. Your overt confessions, cheesy poems and bustling energy that could rival Taiju's. Was it too clumsy? Too obvious that he feels it's an exaggerated farce for show?
To this, you whisper gingerly in the dead of night, in the earliest of mornings,
"Senku. I really really like you."
In the times of uneventful hours, peacefulness in comfortable silence,
"Senku,"
You know, of course you do, of all people.
No one knows him more than you and that fact would've made you happy of such a thing if it couldn't break your heart more. The love of your life, saying everything said in a language that matters most in this time.
An unreadable glance. When the sun beams down brightly and you stare at him lovingly like he's hung the stars in the sky.
Winter strikes mercilessly, days are rough, tensions are high. When everything's all good and done, a bold pinkie inches towards his own. He doesn't pull away, but his hand moves back just as further.
Late at night, behind the tree he leans upon, watching, just watching. His ruby eyes enraptured by the night's celestial pearl.
Gaze too high, to see you.
You close your eyes.
You don't think you can ever stop loving him, despite that. That man doesn't like dragging things out, so you're sure a rejection is soon to come. Whether you approach first or not.
Why he doesn't do it sooner? You know why. As much as he doesn't reciprocate, you know how hesitant he is when it comes to close relationships such as you. Is he scared of breaking your friendship?
It's not the warmth you're looking for, but it's the warmth you can get. Even so, you would never expect him to return just as much as you've given. You love him for him, and not for anything else.
Tragic, how terribly you do.
Maybe one day, you'll learn to forget, to move your heart from where it isn't supposed to be. Maybe one day, you would stop gazing at him with something much more than fondness, waiting for his eyes to find its way back to you.
But until then,
"-I love you."
#this is#HOO BOY#whew#wipes sweat#so whats up you guys#a little shorter than my usual fics but eeehhh#hope i didnt make you guys wait too long haha finger guns#sen writes !#sunset prints !#senku ishigami x reader#senku x reader#senku ishigami#ishigami senku#dr stone senku#dcst senku#dcst#dr stone#dr stone fanfic#dr stone x reader#dcst fanfic#dcst x reader#x reader#senku#sen accepts !
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Excerpt from this story from Science Friday:
Flint Hills rancher Daniel Mushrush estimates that his family has killed maybe 10,000 trees in the past three years.
It’s a start. But many more trees still need to fall for the Mushrushes to save this 15,000 acres of rare tallgrass prairie.
Whenever other work on the property can wait, Daniel and his brother, Chris, don helmets and earplugs, grab their tools and pick up where they left off.
“It’s a lot of old-fashioned chainsaw work,” Daniel Mushrush said. “Walking rocky ridges and cutting down trees.”
The Mushrush family is beating back a juggernaut unleashed by humans — a Green Glacier of trees and shrubs grinding slowly across the Great Plains and burying some of the most threatened habitat on the planet.
This blanket of shrublands and dense juniper woods gobbling up grassland leads to wildfires with towering flames that dwarf those generated in prairie fires.
It also eats into ranchers’ livelihoods. It smothers habitat for grassland birds, prairie fish and other critters that evolved for a world that’s disappearing. It dries up streams and creeks. New research even finds that, across much of the Great Plains, the advent of trees actually makes climate change worse.
Now a federal initiative equips landowners like Mushrush with the latest science and strategies for saving rangeland, and money to help with the work.
Satellite imagery and a better understanding of how trees and shrubs spread could help landowners replace a losing game of whack-a-mole with a more systematic course.
Mushrush calls the approach, promoted by the Natural Resources Conservation Service’s Great Plains Grassland Initiative with guidance from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, a morale builder.
“It works,” the third-generation rancher said. “We’re still overwhelmed with how to do this on 15,000 acres — but we have a plan.”
Each time he thinks about the Manhattan area, which is much more infested with juniper woods and seas of sumac, wild plum and dogwood thickets, he feels the threat creeping toward his home in Chase County.
“If a coral reef is worth saving, if some pristine mountain stream is worth saving, then so are the Flint Hills,” he said. “It’s not easy work, but it’s worthy work.”
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5 AM
Xiangli Yao x Reader
Summary: You always had a habit of staying overnight at Huaxu Academy, tinkering away at your latest project; Xiangli Yao had a habit of visiting you for new ideas at the crack of dawn.
Content: fluff
Word Count: 1.5k
a/n: immediately downloaded the game after seeing an edit of him, got him through the Moon-Chasing Festival event and now I'm writing fanfic for him, sorry if I didn't portray him correctly!! I'm new to the game lmao
A few quick knocks pulled you out of your flow. What was the time? You threw a quick glance at your clock, almost 5 a.m.. That marked the 3rd night you had spent in the workshop, tinkering on your new creation. You slid your safety goggles up to your hairline, trying to blink away the blur that had settled over your vision. You really should start using the ceiling lamp along with your workbench lamp, otherwise you’d risk deteriorating your vision.
Another sequence of knocks made you scramble up from the saddle stool, reminding you why you stopped your project in the first place. You were at the other side of the room at lightning speed. Your workshop was small, only enough to fit one relatively big table in the middle with a smaller one rammed up at the corner, decked out with tools and machines from your personal collection. The academy was generous enough to lend you various equipment, one of them being a large robotic arm with different functions that was attached to the bigger table, but you didn’t dare to use it unless it was for “serious work” as you liked to call it.
The door wailed when you pulled it open. You really should oil it like how Xiangli Yao had suggested–
“Hello.”
Oh.
Speak of the devil. It was always around this time he clocked into work. It was also around this time he visited your workshop, never failing to bring you breakfast, knowing you were more often than not neglecting your needs in pursuit of finishing your latest project.
Xiangli Yao had crashed into your life just as violently as your prototype had when it hit an unsuspected Spearback. You didn’t think anyone would catch you in the midst of your experiments, since you made sure to do it in the dead of night far, far away from the city. But he had, and he was kind enough to escort you back to the academy, buying you breakfast before that. He had asked you about your creations, and without really thinking you started talking about your passion for battle focused tools and gushed over previous projects like they were your children. Afterwards, you had thought it was the first and last time you would have any kind of interaction with the Principal Investigator, but before you knew it, he was outside your workshop, asking you if you were down to discuss ideas for the next modification on his prosthetic arm.
If you had thought a bit further, you probably would have questioned why he went to you specifically, a rookie, when there were an abundance of talented engineers and mechanics alike who could bring his ideas to life much more efficiently and with better quality. But you were too wrapped up in the excitement of creating something new you had ushered him inside, grabbing the only available chair that wasn’t on its last legs for him to sit on while you grabbed your notebook, eyes gleaming.
The added mod had been a success after shedding blood, sweat, and tears day and night. You got to witness it with your own eyes when he asked you to head out with him at the first sign of light. The sunlight had painted him golden, and suddenly you weren’t as focused on his prosthetic as much. His movements had you entranced, not even daring to breathe in case it would disturb the vision in front of you. And that damn smile he directed towards you after defeating the enemy fully stole your breath away. Xiangli Yao was an unfair man.
As thanks, he had gifted you a saddle stool made of leather for your posture (though you still hunched over the desk like a shrimp) and for the fact your previous chair was merely a wooden one that would disintegrate at any given moment. You thought that would be it, but of course he defied your expectations and showed up a few weeks later, breakfast in hand with another idea. From then on he seemed to be keen on consulting you about potential modifications, ranging from battle focused ones to the more silly ones, like his ice maker that you had the honor to partake in creating. And before you knew it, he started spending some rare days in your workshop instead of his office, typing away and doing what scholars do while you were working on all different kinds of projects.
You had to admit you had developed a soft spot for the Principal Investigator during the times you spent together. You could never pinpoint when his visits started feeling like a part of your routine, or when you started looking forward to those moments. And somewhere along the way, you stayed behind just to catch him before you headed home, something you’d never admit to anyone or anything.
“I saw your light was on, so I thought to swing by before going to my office. I bought some Huanglong omelets–” he handed you a paper bag “–I also have an idea for a modification we could add to my prosthetic.”
That spurred you to pull out papers and different colors of pens, spreading them out on the bigger table before turning the ceiling lamp on. He had already started sketching before you even got an omelet in your mouth.
You seated yourself on your chair and rolled to the other side of the table, eyes tracking every swipe of his hand to see the idea bloom on paper. His newest idea was battle oriented. Specifically some kind of tool that could give him the opportunity to snare and damage multiple opponents at once. You weren’t sure what went on in his head for such brilliant ideas to form, but you thanked the dragons out there for letting you witness it so intimately.
As he was sketching, he described his thought process, pausing sometimes to glance up at you for feedback, but you were busy stuffing your cheeks with omelet, barely able to sound out coherent sentences.
Before long you had finished your breakfast, energized and ready to give some ideas yourself. You bounced ideas between each other.
“For this,” Xiangli Yao circled one of his scribbles, “we can add a tool akin to a black hole that will detonate on the enemy I defeated, gathering the rest of them in one place while I’m charging up for an attack. I have an idea on what material we can use…”
You were absolutely starstruck.
“Xiangli Yao, the man you are.” You climbed on the table, crawling a short distance to get closer to him before rising to your knees and cupping his face in your hands, slightly shaking his head back and forth. “I’m sure you’ve heard this more than enough– but you are a genius.”
A faint hue of pink dusted over his cheeks, and it was only then you realized how close you were to him.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Sorry I got carried away–”
Your panic was interrupted by the chill of his metal hand settling over yours. He looked up at you with such puppy eyes that were swirling with an indescribable emotion you wondered how you never noticed.
Before you knew it, his other hand settled on the back of your head, and you were pulled down.
His lips were soft.
The sheer gentleness he treated you with sent electricity crackling in your veins. Your eyes fell shut and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Your free hand slid down to the back of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing against the hair before it found a place on his shoulder, and you didn’t miss the way he quivered under your touch.
Xiangli Yao parted with a sigh, eyes fluttering open to unabashedly stare at your face. He intertwined your hands, cool metal palm against the back of your warm hand, and raised it to his lips. Then he pecked your cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, before finally giving you another delicate kiss on your lips.
“Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” he murmured when he pulled away. You exhaled a laugh.
“I can’t believe it either– oh shit!” You quickly clambered off the table with his help. “I hope I didn’t ruin any of the sketches…”
“Even if you did, we can just remake them,” he declared nonchalantly. “Honestly, I would gladly let you ruin my research papers if I get to take you out on a date.”
“You don’t mean that!” you gasped. “You can do that without ruining your work.”
He smiled. “I wasn’t planning on it, don't worry. I’m gonna head to my office now. Just give me a call if you have any other ideas.”
“Will do, will do.”
“I’ll come pick you up at 6 pm today.” He gave you a quick kiss before making his way to the door. “See you then.”
You were left a blushing mess in your workshop, now a new project and a date in your hands.
Xiangli Yao was truly an unfair man.
#wuthering waves x reader#wuwa x reader#wuthering waves x you#wuwa x you#wuwa xiangli yao#wuthering waves xiangli yao#xiangli yao#xiangli yao x reader#xiangli yao x you
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Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!
I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.
He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)
And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.
This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.
For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'
Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition
Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.
We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.
Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.
He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny
Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)
Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.
Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.
Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself
And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.
Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!
Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.
#bnha#bnha critical#mha#mha critical#bnha meta#my hero academia#mha meta#anti endeavor#boku no hero academia#anti enji todoroki#rei todoroki deserves better#dabi deserves better#shoto todoroki deserves better#fuyumi todoroki decerves better#natsuo todoroki deserves better
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“i want my wisdom tooth back”
“ah wah ma wizum toof bah”
It was early Saturday morning, and I was sweating buckets in the passenger seat of Jaemin's car. Jaemin glanced at me as we stopped at a red light, his hand finding mine. "It's gonna be fine," he said, squeezing my hand gently. "You're just having your wisdom teeth out, it's not like they're removing your actual wisdom."
I didn't laugh at his joke, which probably scared him a little, but I was too nervous to even smile. I was about to have two wisdom teeth pulled, and the thought of sharp objects in my mouth was not my idea of a fun weekend. Jaemin drove on, his soothing voice trying to calm me down with stories about the latest drama in his gaming guild. I think he even mentioned something about his cat getting stuck in a shoebox, but I was too focused on the upcoming appointment to really pay attention.
The dentist's office was everything you'd expect: sterile, white, and full of equipment that looked like medieval torture devices. Jaemin led me to the front counter, where a cheerful nurse with glasses perched on her nose asked for my name. I squeaked out my name, and she nodded, telling us to take a seat and wait for my name to be called.
I sat down on a hard plastic chair, clutching Jaemin's hand like it was my only lifeline. He caressed my fingers and smiled at me, his grin warm and reassuring. "You're doing great," he said. "Just remember to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth."
It wasn't long before the doctor called my name. Jaemin and I stood up together, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked into the treatment room. The doctor was a tall man with a big smile. He looked at Jaemin and then at me. "Is he your boyfriend?" he asked, grinning.
"Yes," I replied, my voice trembling.
The doctor chuckled and gestured for me to sit in the dentist's chair. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," he said, motioning for me to lean back. The nurse came in, and they began to prepare for the procedure. There was some kind of mask, a lot of beeping equipment, and a tray full of shiny, terrifying tools. I was having second thoughts about this whole thing, but Jaemin was standing right beside me, holding my hand and rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb.
The doctor adjusted the mask over my nose and mouth and said, "This is just laughing gas. You'll be asleep for a bit, and when you wake up, it'll all be over." I nodded, trying to stay calm as the gas started to take effect. Jaemin pulled out his phone and started recording, which, looking back, was a little mean, but hey, it's not every day you get to see your significant other on laughing gas.
Everything started to get a little fuzzy, and the last thing I saw before I fell asleep was Jaemin's reassuring smile.
I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up, I felt like I was on a cloud made of cotton candy. Jaemin was still there, holding my hand and watching me with a smirk on his face. I tried to sit up, but the room spun, and I fell back into the chair.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice all slurred and groggy.
Jaemin chuckled. "You're at the dentist. You just had your wisdom teeth out, remember?"
I blinked at him, my eyes heavy and unfocused. "You're so handsome," I said, my voice dreamy and totally without a filter.
The doctor and nurse laughed, and Jaemin just shook his head, his cheeks turning a little red. "Thanks," he said, helping me to sit up carefully. "Let's get you to the car, sleepyhead."
He walked me out to the parking lot, his arm around my waist to keep me steady. I was still in a daze, but at least I had my handsome boyfriend to guide me. He helped me into the car, buckled my seatbelt, and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
"See? That wasn't so bad," he said as he started the car.
I groaned, my mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton balls. "I need a smoothie," I mumbled.
Jaemin grinned. "Smoothie it is," he said, and off we went, my wisdom teeth somewhere in a biohazard bag, but my heart firmly in the hands of the sweetest boyfriend ever.
Jaemin drove carefully out of the parking lot, glancing over at me every few moments to make sure I wasn't about to topple over. My head was lolling a bit, and my cheeks were swollen like a chipmunk's. The gauze in my mouth felt weird, and my brain was still foggy from the anesthesia.
As we turned onto the main road, I suddenly had a thought. It seemed important, like one of those random ideas that feels like a breakthrough even though it's completely silly. I turned to Jaemin, my words garbled and slow because of the gauze.
"I want my wisdom tooth back," I mumbled, trying to sound serious, but it came out more like, "Ah wah ma wizum toof bah."
Jaemin looked at me, puzzled at first, then he burst out laughing. "What?" he asked, shaking his head. "What are you going to do with your wisdom tooth?"
I tried to explain, but the gauze and the anesthetic made everything difficult. "I... I just want it... you know, like a trophy," I slurred, feeling oddly proud of the idea.
Jaemin was still laughing, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm pretty sure the dentist keeps those," he said, patting my shoulder. "Trust me, you don't want it back."
I groaned, feeling a bit disappointed. "But... but... it's mine," I insisted, though it sounded more like, "Bah... bah... izz mine."
Jaemin just laughed harder, his hand squeezing my shoulder as he drove. "We'll get you a nice smoothie, how about that? It's way better than a bloody tooth."
I grumbled something unintelligible, but even in my dazed state, I could tell his laughter was infectious. The rest of the drive was filled with Jaemin chuckling at my silly, half-conscious remarks about reclaiming my wisdom tooth, while I occasionally moaned in exaggerated despair.
In the end, I might not have gotten my tooth back, but I definitely got the best care and a whole lot of laughter from the sweetest guy I knew. Maybe I'd settle for a smoothie and some ice cream, as long as Jaemin was there to share them with me.
#jaemin#na jaemin#jaemin scenario#na jaemin imagine#jaemin imagine#jaemin ff#nct dream fluff#nct dream imagine#jaemin fluff#nct dream#kpop
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"On a blustery day in early March, the who’s who of methane research gathered at Vandenberg Space Force Base in Santa Barbara, California. Dozens of people crammed into a NASA mission control center. Others watched from cars pulled alongside roads just outside the sprawling facility. Many more followed a livestream. They came from across the country to witness the launch of an oven-sized satellite capable of detecting the potent planet-warming gas from space.
The amount of methane, the primary component in natural gas, in the atmosphere has been rising steadily over the last few decades, reaching nearly three times as much as preindustrial times. About a third of methane emissions in the United States occur during the extraction of fossil fuels as the gas seeps from wellheads, pipelines, and other equipment. The rest come from agricultural operations, landfills, coal mining, and other sources. Some of these leaks are large enough to be seen from orbit. Others are miniscule, yet contribute to a growing problem.
Identifying and repairing them is a relatively straightforward climate solution. Methane has a warming potential about 80 times higher than carbon dioxide over a 20-year period, so reducing its levels in the atmosphere can help curb global temperature rise. And unlike other industries where the technology to decarbonize is still relatively new, oil and gas companies have long had the tools and know-how to fix these leaks.
MethaneSAT, the gas-detecting device launched in March, is the latest in a growing armada of satellites designed to detect methane. Led by the nonprofit Environmental Defense Fund, or EDF, and more than six years in the making, the satellite has the ability to circle the globe 15 times a day and monitor regions where 80 percent of the world’s oil and gas is produced. Along with other satellites in orbit, it is expected to dramatically change how regulators and watchdogs police the oil and gas industry...
A couple hours after the rocket blasted off, Wofsy, Hamburg, and his colleagues watched on a television at a hotel about two miles away as their creation was ejected into orbit. It was a jubilant moment for members of the team, many of whom had traveled to Vandenberg with their partners, parents, and children. “Everybody spontaneously broke into a cheer,” Wofsy said. “You [would’ve] thought that your team scored a touchdown during overtime.”
The data the satellite generates in the coming months will be publicly accessible — available for environmental advocates, oil and gas companies, and regulators alike. Each has an interest in the information MethaneSAT will beam home. Climate advocates hope to use it to push for more stringent regulations governing methane emissions and to hold negligent operators accountable. Fossil fuel companies, many of which do their own monitoring, could use the information to pinpoint and repair leaks, avoiding penalties and recouping a resource they can sell. Regulators could use the data to identify hotspots, develop targeted policies, and catch polluters. For the first time, the Environmental Protection Agency is taking steps to be able to use third-party data to enforce its air quality regulations, developing guidelines for using the intelligence satellites like MethaneSAT will provide. The satellite is so important to the agency’s efforts that EPA Administrator Michael Regan was in Santa Barbara for the launch as was a congressional lawmaker. Activists hailed the satellite as a much-needed tool to address climate change.
“This is going to radically change the amount of empirically observed data that we have and vastly increase our understanding of the amount of methane emissions that are currently happening and what needs to be done to reduce them,” said Dakota Raynes, a research and policy manager at the environmental nonprofit Earthworks. “I’m hopeful that gaining that understanding is going to help continue to shift the narrative towards [the] phase down of fossil fuels.”
With the satellite safely orbiting 370 miles above the Earth’s surface, the mission enters a critical second phase. In the coming months, EDF researchers will calibrate equipment and ensure the satellite works as planned. By next year [2025], it is expected to transmit reams of information from around the world."
-via Grist, April 7, 2024
#satellite#epa#environmental protection agency#environmental activism#methane#emissions#climate change#climate news#climate action#natural gas#fossil fuels#global warming#good news#hope
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HOW TO: Unlock Your Potential with a Vision Board for 2025!
(clickable links and resources below)
Have you ever felt the excitement of setting goals but struggled to visualize them? A vision board could be your secret weapon! Discover why creating a vibrant vision board for 2025 can ignite your motivation and help you manifest your aspirations. It's time to bring your dreams to life and make this year your most fulfilling one yet!
‘How Do I Set Myself Up For Success?’
STEP ONE: ENVISION IT
This is the very reason why the BFS recommends making physical and digital vision &/or prayer boards! So yes, absolutely, use this moment to visualize the life you desire, the woman you aspire to be, including every detail from your behaviors to the type of neighborhood you'd like to live in.
Tools You Need:
Create a Pinterest account
Download Shuffles to make a digital collage vision boards directly from your boards you created on Pinterest!
Go your local Dollar Store ! Your physical vision board does not have to break the bank!
Utilize your local Library! 📚 There’s many libraries that let you print things for free with a library card ! ( if you don’t have a library card get one pretty girls read )
A 🔥 playlist! 🎶 We recommend you to vibe out to music that motivates you ! Have you heard our “Kingdom Vibes” playlist? Click here to listen to the latest Christian r&b/rap out right now! 🎧
STEP 2: ALIGN WITH IT
Dreams should never only be alive in your head. Step one is done and yes you can always close your eyes and make changes when you need to. ITS YOUR REALITY. You can and will always find yourself doing step one, but do not stay there.
What’s going to set you apart from the rest is the work, discipline and commitment you have to making your visions of life come to life. You have to align yourself with it. That’s the secret: your new life is going to cost you your old one babe!
STEP 3: DO NOT GIVE UP
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV
This is a sisterhood, it’s our duty to always tell you the TRUTH ! It’s not going to be a walk in the park after your vision board is made, you will still have hard days, days where you’re not going to have any drive to get things done. There will be days where you fall back into old habits.
Luckily for you, we not only made resources for you to use but we created a safe space for you to come and get back on track. We will help you unpack and bounce back everytime!
‘Breaking Habits’ Guide: Part One • Part Two
Join our free “The Ladies Room” Groupchat for support, guidance and advice. Click HERE to accept our invite !
Other Free BFS Resources: HERE
Accountability is key on this never ending journey of self discovery. This does not mean you have to beat yourself up and get stuck in a rut! BFS women acknowledges the facts and move accordingly (pray, indulge in self care, seek help— get back to the drawing board and try again) this is why we are a circle of WINNERS 🏆 Our members don’t give up on themselves and we will never give up on them! 🩷
“To learn, you must love discipline; it is stupid to hate correction.”
Proverbs 12:1 NLT
STEP 4: WATCH IT COME TO LIFE:
Do you know what happens after you plant seeds in the physical and spiritual world ? Harvest season! It’s only a matter of time! Your hard work, sweat, tears, and dedication will pay off! When that time comes, give glory to GOD, you will be fully equipped and ready to step into that season of your life.
────── ⋆⋅🩷📲🫂⋅⋆ ──────
We’re basically besties!
Follow Us on:
Instagram • Discord • Facebook
#2025#NYE#VISION BOARD#PRAYER BOARD#black women in femininity#black women in luxury#classy black women#feminine energy#femininity#LEVELING UP#black sisterhood#sisters in christ
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Hello! I loved your "baby 🥺" fic and was wondering if we could get a version of it but with Donnie?
Another bebe?🥺 (rottmnt Donnie x reader)
summary: a turtle baby suddenly appears in the lab, and she looks suspiciously a lot like Donnie
relationship: Rise!Donnie x GN reader
warnings: none, just fluff!, soft Donnie
word count: 2k
A/N: the moment everyone's been waiting for lol this time Donnie gets better lab equipment xD
More “Baby 🥺” versions: Leo | Raph | Donnie (you’re here) | Mikey
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
Donnie was in his lab, because where else would he be? He was jamming to some EDM music in the background while tinkering with some project of his. You sat in front of him, starting to get bored. He had invited you over to show you his latest masterpiece, but it hadn’t worked yet, so now he was trying to fix the issue. Which according to him would be a quick fix, but he had been at it for over half an hour now, cursing under his breath.
“You better leave all the tools how you found them,” he said without looking up, as he could hear the light clattering.
“I know your system,” you reassured him. “You've explained it in great detail several times, don’t you worry.”
“Then, can you pass me the screwdriver, please?” he asked, stretching out his hand in your direction.
You reached out to pick it up from the box but it fell from your hand, rolling over the edge of his work table. You flinched slightly, ready for the clatter it would make as it fell onto the floor, since that screwdriver was modified by Donnie and particularly heavy. But the sound never came. Instead you heard more of an electrical zap and a whoosh.
Taking a couple of steps to get around the table, you saw that there was a hole on the floor where the screwdriver would have been. It was circular, formed by several zapping rays of a yellow-ish glow. You couldn't see through it, but it was clear that the tool fell in there. You merely blinked at the sight in front of you, unable to say anything.
Not getting a response from you, Donnie also moved from his spot, leaving his work on the table, and walked over, now standing in front of you on the other side of… whatever that was.
“Huh,” is all that he said.
“What is that?” you asked after a moment. “And why are you not alarmed?”
Donnie scoffed.
“It’s obvious it's some kind of portal,” he explained, turning around to his wall of machinery, tapping something on this brace device.
You raised your hands and eyebrows in a ‘well, sorry I didn’t immediately recognise it as such’ gesture, even though he had his back to you.
“I need to analyse it,” Donnie informed you as he turned around. “Better get a little further back just in case–”
Suddenly the screwdriver appeared again, coming out straight out of the portal, a tiny turtle hand attached to it.
You both stood in silence and shock, watching how a little turtle tot climbed out the portal carrying the heavy tool, finally getting to sit on the floor with a huff. The baby had a little ribbon tied to her head, which hung a little askew because of her efforts. She looked at you with a smile, then at Donnie, and squealed in glee, holding out the screwdriver with both hands towards him, as if offering it to him.
Then the portal zapped loudly, and shut closed. The little turtle seemed unfazed by this, still waiting for Donnie to react.
Donnie opened and closed his mouth several times but no words came out. You approached the baby and crouched down next to her.
“H-hey there, little one,” you greeted her, and she cooed. “Where did you come from, hm?”
You took the screwdriver from the little hands, placing it on the table, and picked up the baby in your arms.
“Huh, look at you, aren't you cute?”, you said as you inspected her chubby cheeks and big eyes. “What’s your name?”
The baby cooed and babbled as you moved the ribbon up her head to where you thought it was meant to sit. You fixed your grasp on the turtle to carry her better against your hip, in the process stroking over her back with your hand, and your brows raised at the sensation.
“Donnie look,” you pointed out to him. “She has a soft shell, just like you!”
You turned back to him and he was still in shock, unmoving. But you had been with him long enough to pick up on the tiny changes in his face to read them. Given the twitch of the corner of his mouth, you knew his mind was not only racing, but he already had a plausible hypothesis for this situation.
“Spit it out, Don,” you said with an amused sigh. “You already know what happened, right?”
“I think I do,” he answered.
Donnie approached you and the baby, guiding you to a different part of the lab, where he instructed you to place her in a little open chamber, which you knew he used to analyse materials. You tilted your head at his request.
“Do you really need to know her molecular composition to tell she's a turtle like you?” you deadpanned.
“I just want to know for sure if she’s who I think she is–”
“Whoa!” came a voice from behind you suddenly. “You two sure work fast!”
You both turned around to see Leo, Mikey and Raph at the entrance of the lab.
“We leave to get food and you already had a baby?” Leo joked.
Heat spread on your face, burning on your cheeks.
“We- Wha-??” you stumbled over your words. The baby in your arms squealed in glee, apparently very on board with Leo’s comment.
“That’s not how it works, Leo,” Mikey said, grabbing his brother by the shoulder. “Babies aren't made in labs, they–”
“Yeah, they grow in a cabbage,” Raph interjected. “Everyone knows that.”
You all went silent.
“I’m obviously joking!” Raph called, Leo and Mikey erupting in laughter.
While you were busy trying to get your heated cheeks under control and everyone was making fun of Raph, Donnie had taken the little turtle from your arms and placed her into the chamber. He left the front panel open so she wouldn't feel trapped.
There was a loading bar on his screen, labelled „retrieving genetic material“. The bar progressed fairly quickly and after a couple of seconds the message appeared: „Analysis successful: Congrats, it‘s a girl!“ accompanied by the sound of a party blower, and followed by some caricatures of you and Donnie's faces surrounded by confetti.
At that, the laughter died down and all eyes fell on you.
“Oh my god, called it!” Leo exclaimed.
“Shut up,” you told him, but the embarrassment in your voice didn’t make it sound particularly stern. “Donnie, clearly that's not possible, right?”
As you asked this, you turned around to see the turtle in question averting his eyes, a bit tensed up with his shoulders slightly raised, and hands curled into fists. Under his mask you could see a furious blush reaching to his neck.
“Eh?” is all you managed to mutter out.
“Clearly she came from a different timeline or dimension, but…” Donnie started, bringing up his hands to his face to try and hide from you. “Yeah, it's true.”
Letting out a shaky sigh, he picked up the little turtle, who had been following the whole exchange with great interest, looking from one person to the other. Donnie then moved to sit where he had been earlier, at the table, with the little turtle on his lap, looking lost in thoughts.
You shooed the other three out of the room, much to their dismay, to get a moment alone with Donnie. He was being a bit uncharacteristically quiet and … non-rambly, science-wise.
Grabbing your chair, you brought it to the other side of the table to sit next to him. Meanwhile, the baby turtle had discovered Donnie’s abandoned project on the table and her focus shifted completely to it. From his lap she could reach properly and started investigating the device. Donnie didn't seem to mind at all, which was sounding yet another alarm in your head. Instead of reprimanding the smaller turtle to leave his things alone, as you would have expected, he watched with soft eyes how she skillfully turned the device in her little hands, babbling to herself as if trying to make sense of his contraption.
“Is… everything okay?” you asked softly, placing your hand on his arm.
“I’m just…” Donnie took a moment to find the right word. “Stunned, I guess.”
“How so?”
“I’ve tried imagining this a couple of times,” he started, scratching the back of his neck, then clicked his tongue. “Scratch that, I think about this all the time.”
“About what?” you questioned, and your heart skipped a beat; does he mean what you think he means?
“You’re really gonna make me say it out loud,” he mumbled, lifting his eyes to meet yours, then heaved a deep sigh. “About us. What life will be like with you by my side.”
He then gestured to the little turtle still tinkering with the device.
“And about having kids, apparently.”
“Y-you think about our future together?” you said almost in disbelief, your chest tightening at his confession.
“Of course I do,” he responded immediately. “I can't really imagine a future without you in it. O-only if you want to stay, that is.”
“Obviously I want to!” you said and held his hand. You were leaning in, about to give him a kiss, when the turtle tot exclaimed in glee. And you could have sworn it sounded like she was trying to say “eureka”.
Before Donnie could stop her, she detached two cables, turned the thing around and connected them on the opposite side. You three looked at it expectantly to do something, but nothing was happening, so she gave it a smack with a grunt, and that's when the lights went on and it started whirring.
“No way! You fixed it?” Donnie exclaimed happily and held the baby under her armpits, lifting her up, to which she cooed and blew a raspberry.
With a smile, you leaned your head on your hand, propped up on your elbow on the table.
“Well, it’s no wonder she’s smart,” you spoke. “She’s got good genes, after all.”
Donnie’s gaze came to meet yours and he smiled as well, one of his rare soft ones, and your heart started racing all over again.
Just as you were about to ask what you should do with her, there was some zapping behind you, the same zapping you had heard from the portal earlier.
“Donnie is gonna kill meee,” came a familiar voice as a figure crossed through the portal into the lab, and you couldn’t believe your eyes: it was an older version of Mikey.
When he spotted the baby in Donnie’s arms, his shoulders slumped visibly in relief.
“You little rascal!” Mikey scolded her. “I look away for three seconds and you go off running!”
The baby stuck out her tongue at him, trying to hide behind Donnie’s arm.
“Heh, looks like brains aren't the only thing she inherited from you,” you tell Donnie with a mischievous grin.
“Whatever could you be implying,” he remarked sarcastically.
Mikey went to pick up the baby but she cried out, her arms doing a grabby motion towards you, and you could feel your heart tightening a bit at the sight.
“Hey now, it’s okay, little one,” you tried comforting her as you held her tiny hands. “We’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”
Donnie tensed up his jaw as the baby was taken from him, and you couldn’t help the sad smile on your face. Mikey shot you an apologetic look, and turned back towards the portal.
“This never happened, we were never here,” he said over his shoulder with a wink, and stepped through the whirls.
The portal zapped closed again, and not a second later three heads peeked into the lab through the door.
“Is everything alright?” Raph asked.
“We heard voices just now, was someone here?” Leo questioned as he looked around.
“Where's the baby?!” Mikey said, bringing his hands to his head.
“It’s okay,” you calmed them down. “She's back where she's supposed to be.”
Donnie’s hand came to hold your own under the table.
“We’ll see her again,” he promised, more to you than the others. “Hopefully soon.”
And then you knew the heat that prickled your cheeks probably wasn’t gonna leave any time soon.
~~~~~
🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] ( i really hope i got everyone! ) @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @lovelylovelydreams, @o0-starboy-0o, @xnorthstar3x, @yarabutterfly, @isometimeswritestuff, @spacelesbianfanclub, @lieutenantlashfaz, @dybynyght, @snipersiniora, @je-m-appelle-yam, @lunar-lover1, @normal-internet-user
#goose feathers#rottmnt#save rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the tmnt x reader#tmnt x reader#rottmnt x reader#tmnt 2018#rottmnt donnie x reader#donatello x reader#rise donnie x reader#the turtle baby saga
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Obsession in Overdrive
Jenson Button x journalist!reader
note: so I was writing part 2 of web of obsession and I accidentally deleted it, I really don't know how I did it (I want to bang my head to something like dobby banged his head with lamp)
Summary:You are a dedicated and ambitious journalist covering the world of Formula 1. Your latest assignment brings you face-to-face with Jenson Button, a charismatic and skilled driver. However, beneath his charming exterior lies a dark and obsessive personality. As Jenson becomes fixated on you, what starts as innocent professional admiration quickly spirals into a dangerous obsession, leading you into a web of passion, control, and peril. (you will find out that in part two)
Warnings: Im not good with warnings T_T sorry....
--
The roar of engines and the scent of burning rubber filled the air, the unmistakable ambiance of a Grand Prix weekend. You adjusted your press pass, the laminated card dangling from a lanyard around your neck. This assignment was a dream come true covering the world of Formula 1, where speed and glamour intertwined.
The paddock was alive with activity. Engineers tweaked car settings, team members rushed about with tools and equipment, and the drivers, the stars of this high-octane circus, moved with an air of focused determination. You had been following the sport for years, but being here, amidst the chaos and excitement, was a different experience altogether.
You were here for one reason: an exclusive interview with Jenson Button, the seasoned driver known not just for his skill on the track, but for his charm and charisma off it. He was a favorite among fans and media alike, and getting time with him was a coup for any journalist.
You arrived at the McLaren team’s hospitality suite, a sleek and modern area buzzing with activity. The room was filled with a mix of team personnel, sponsors, and a few journalists, all engaged in animated conversation. The decor was elegant but functional, with the team’s colors prominently displayed.
You spotted Jenson almost immediately. He was deep in conversation with a team engineer, but as soon as he saw you, his face lit up with a smile. He excused himself and walked over, his stride confident and relaxed.
“Ah, you must be [your name]” he greeted, extending a hand. His grip was firm yet gentle, his touch lingering a fraction longer than necessary.
“Yes, thank you for taking the time to speak with me,” you replied, trying to maintain your professional demeanor despite the fluttering in your stomach. He was even more handsome in person, his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of intelligence and mischief.
“Anything for a lovely journalist,” he said, his tone smooth as silk. “Shall we?”
He led you to a quieter corner of the suite, where a small table and two chairs had been set up for the interview. As you settled into your seat, you couldn’t help but notice how his presence seemed to command the space around him. He was effortlessly charming, his smile warm and inviting.
The interview began with the usual pleasantries. Jenson answered your questions with ease, his responses peppered with humor and insight. He spoke about his passion for racing, the challenges of the season, and his hopes for the future. His answers were thoughtful and articulate, revealing a depth of character that went beyond his public persona.
Yet, as the conversation progressed, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of your face. His eyes would occasionally flicker down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
You shifted in your seat, trying to maintain your composure. This was just another interview, you told yourself, albeit with one of the most charming men you’d ever met. But there was something about the way he looked at you that made your pulse quicken.
“So, [your name],” Jenson said, leaning forward slightly, “what got you into journalism? And more specifically, why Formula 1?”
You smiled, appreciating his genuine interest. “I’ve always loved writing, and I’ve been a fan of motorsports since I was a kid. There’s something about the combination of speed, skill, and strategy that fascinates me. Plus, the stories behind the drivers and teams are incredibly compelling.”
Jenson nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s true, there’s a lot more to this sport than just racing. The dedication, the sacrifices... it’s a whole world unto itself.”
You continued talking, sharing stories and laughing together. Despite the professional nature of the interview, it felt more like a conversation between friends. Jenson had a way of making you feel at ease, his genuine interest and warm demeanor drawing you in.
As the interview came to an end, you thanked Jenson and began to gather your things. “This was great, Jenson. Thank you so much for your time.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he replied, standing up and extending his hand once more. “I hope we get to do this again soon.”
His hand was warm around yours, and as he held your gaze, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of something more than professional admiration. You quickly pushed the thought aside, reminding yourself of your role and responsibilities.
“Take care, love,” Jenson said, his smile lingering as he watched you leave.
As you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your encounter with Jenson Button was just the beginning of something much more complex and intense than a simple interview.
------------------
Later that evening, you returned to your hotel room, still buzzing from the excitement of the day. You had a lot of work to do transcribing the interview, writing up your notes, and preparing your article. But before you could get started, a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.
You opened it to find a hotel staff member holding a small, beautifully wrapped box. “Miss [your name] this was left for you at the front desk.”
Surprised, you took the box and thanked him. As you closed the door, curiosity got the better of you. You carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a delicate silver bracelet with a charm in the shape of a racing car. It was exquisite, and clearly expensive.
There was a card inside, written in elegant script: “A token of appreciation. – Jenson.”
Your heart skipped a beat. It was a thoughtful gift, but also oddly personal for someone you’d just met. You slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring how it caught the light. It was beautiful, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it meant something more.
Pushing aside your unease, you sat down at your laptop and began to write. Yet, as you worked, your thoughts kept drifting back toJenson his smile, his charm, and the intensity in his eyes. This was supposed to be just another assignment, but you had a feeling that it was going to be anything but ordinary.
----------------
Over the next few weeks, you found yourself running into Jenson more frequently. At first, it seemed like coincidence, he’d be at the coffee shop you frequented, or passing by the media center just as you were leaving. Each time, he’d greet you warmly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.
“You again,” you joked one afternoon, unable to hide your smile. “Are you following me, Mr. Button?”
He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Just lucky, I guess. Besides, I enjoy our little chats.”
His attention was flattering, and you couldn’t deny the growing attraction. Yet, beneath the surface, there was something unsettling about his constant presence. It was as if he always knew where you’d be.
One evening, as you left the paddock, you found Jenson waiting by your car. “Let me take you to dinner,” he offered, his tone more commanding than requesting.
“I appreciate the offer, but I have a lot of work to do,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
His smile faltered, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “Another time then,” he said, but his tone suggested it wasn’t really a question.
_______
The next morning, you received a text from an unknown number: Good morning, [your name]. Hope you have a great day. – Jenson. (-sent from my iphoen) (iykyk)
You stared at the message, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You hadn’t given him your number, which meant he must have gone out of his way to get it. Part of you was flattered by his persistence, but another part couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort.
As the days passed, Jenson’s presence in your life grew. He sent you flowers, left small gifts at your hotel, and always seemed to be around. It was becoming harder to focus on your work with him constantly on your mind.
During a press conference, you caught Jenson’s eye from across the room. He was surrounded by reporters, but his gaze was fixed on you. He smiled, a knowing look in his eyes that made your heart race. After the conference, he made his way over to you.
“Can I steal you away for a bit?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.
You hesitated, glancing around at your colleagues who were busy typing up their notes. “I really should finish my article.”
“It’ll only take a minute,” he promised, his hand gently guiding you towards a more secluded area. “I wanted to give you something.”
From his pocket, he pulled out a small, wrapped box. “Another gift?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and caution.
“Just a little something to remind you of me,” he said with a smile.
You unwrapped the box to find a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a steering wheel. It was beautiful, but the personal nature of the gift sent a shiver down your spine.
“Jenson, this is lovely, but you really don’t have to keep giving me things,” you said, trying to sound gracious.
“I want to,” he insisted, his eyes intense. “You’re special, love. I feel a connection with you.”
His words made your heart flutter, but also triggered a warning bell in your mind. “Thank you, Jenson. I appreciate it, really. But I.....I have to get back to work now.”
He nodded, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t giving up. As you walked away, you felt his gaze lingering on you, a constant, almost tangible presence.
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Later that week, you were sitting in your hotel room, working on your latest article, when your phone buzzed. It was a call from Jenson. You hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Hello?”
“[your name], I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring.
“Not at all. What’s up?”
“I was thinking we could have dinner tonight. There’s a great restaurant not far from your hotel.”
You bit your lip, considering his offer. Part of you wanted to say yes, to enjoy an evening with this captivating man. But another part of you was wary of how quickly things were progressing.
“I don’t know, Jenson. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Come on, just one dinner,” he coaxed. “You have to eat, right? Consider it a break.”
His persistence was hard to resist, and before you knew it, you found yourself agreeing. “Okay, fine. One dinner.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, a note of triumph in his voice.
That evening, Jenson arrived at your hotel right on time. He looked impeccable, dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his athletic build. As you walked to the restaurant, he kept the conversation light and engaging, his charm easing some of your apprehension.
The restaurant was elegant and intimate, with soft lighting and a view of the city skyline. Jenson had reserved a private table, away from prying eyes. As you sat down, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Throughout dinner, Jenson was the perfect gentleman. He listened attentively as you talked about your career and passions, sharing stories from his own life that made you laugh and feel at ease. Yet, beneath his charm, there was an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#jenson button x you#jenson button x reader#f1 fic#fanfic#f1#jenson button
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