#but i can see a PR manager doing that on purpose

[macverse]

I was excited that the unexpected Evans might get me to feel inspired to write but all I can see is the G-D FRAMES!

WHY!

One of those is crooked! Or is the wall not straight!? There's a hole to the left! It needs one more. The fuck is this placement! I wanna be inspired by this but all I see if FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAMES!!!

I love a gallery wall. I have a couple in my home. They make me happy. This seems like a couple-y thing that he and his wife would do. But you neeeeeeeeed a test run especially with this many!

I'll stop [user continues to complain in the tag]

US Weekly (August 2024)

Link

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi could u write max x sunshine desi reader where she is his teammate and everyone (all drivers and team principles)adores her and she is known for wearing saris to events and award ceremonies and max and her having a grumpy x sunshine trope

Also like pr games for insta or smthing where he pronounce hindi words or muhavare and its cutee and fans love them!!!!!

I loved superstitions!!!!

Swear Words ✧˚ · .

Summary: Based on the anon's request!

⟿ mv x desi!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

⟿ fluff ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

masterlist ☾☼

max was not grumpy. he was fun, and he was slightly unhinged, but he was not grumpy. though, in comparison to his teammate, y/n, everyone else seemed grumpy. she was quiet literally sunshine embodiment.

the two had been teammates for two seasons now, and everyone loved her. as they should. secretly, max also loved her. he would never say it out loud, though.

his favourite thing about her was the way she dressed up for any and all non-race event. she was always in a kurta or a sari. max had not known what her attire was called till he heard her talking about it once to charles' girlfriend. he could have done the sensible thing and just asked her himself, but finding out the way that he had done was easier.

max and y/n's relationship had really changed from teammates to more after max had attempted to anonymously gift her a sari for an event. y/n had looked radiant, max was speechless, and the rest was history for them.

it was during one of the PR events where max had gotten unhinged again and cursed a few times. the managers were furious, but she could tell that he didn't really give a fuck. to save him from future scoldings, y/n had come up with a plan that she really thought could save him.

"max," she called out.

"yes, my love,"

"i'm going to save you from future pr nightmares," she said confidently.

max laughed, "right, okay. how are you going to do that?"

"you're always getting in trouble for saying swear words on live tv. what if you say them in a language people don't understand?" there was a glint in her eyes that told max that she was going to be trouble. but, he loved her for it.

"how are we going to do that?"

"baby, i come from a country where we have a wide range of swear words. we've got different categories too."

max laughed. he did that more around her. he would never let anyone from the outside world see or know that.

"i'm serious! we've got swear words for moms, sisters, animals, body organs, animal body organs. you name it, and we probably have it!" y/n insisted.

"okay, okay, i believe you. teach me some of the words, and i'll see if it works for me,"

y/n clapped her hands in excitement, and began going through her list, explaining their meaning.

max had never been more in love.

a few months later, when the desi f1 fans caught what was happening, they made a compilation video. it consisted of every hindi swear word that max had said in interviews and such, with y/n laughing in the corner, and the interviewer being absolutely clueless on what was being said. the video had compiled all of those moments with the least to worst swear words, purposely not adding the meanings to keep the rest of the world confused.

it was a long time before anyone else, especially the red bull pr managers caught on, and only then did y/n get yelled at for the first time by them.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

this is the first max verstappen imagine I've written! idk if this is what you wanted, anon, but honestly, I couldn't see max saying muhavre and stuff, but I could see him saying a lot of curse words in hindi, so I went with that! also, I love the fact that when I went on Pinterest to look for pictures of max, almost every picture was of him smiling or laughing. i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[txttletale]

Ok so, let's assume there are 2 steps on how to deal with AI, which are:

give up on luddite dead end pursuits of turning back the clock to more indivualized production

put energy into productive working class organizing

Could you please elaborate who is even trying to do that thing you mention in step 1? Those in denial? I have yet to see anyone, all I see is people being upset and thus hating it, which is a natural reaction to having your art be stolen. Give it time, people need time to process this change.

And regarding your step 2, that's gonna happen either way? I mean, what choice do artists have? Same as all tech that those in power want to push, ai is gonna persist, it's inevitable, as is artists trying to adapt.

I genuinely see no sense in posts advocating for ai, like, it doesn't need that, it's doing good without you guys, it has a pr team working tirelessly trying to integrate it daily. What are tumblr users who advocate for it trying to accomplish here? Make artists hate it less? As an artist whose art got stolen, even if I do manage to successfully adapt, I will not stop hating ai and those behind it? Like, what's the purpose here 😭 Sorry this got kind of long

i mean i don't consider myself an 'advocate' for 'ai art'. generative visual art is an artform i personally have little interest in making. i think if openai went bankrupt tomorrow it would be awesome and very funny. you are making a classic mistake, which is to assume that every issue is like a splatoon splatfest with two clearly defined teams. i point out that the things that people frothed up into anti-AI hysteria say are at best untrue and at worst deeply reactionary, pushing right-wing social views about art or right-wing economic views about copyright because i think those things are bad.

i don't bother making posts pointing out that, like, @ApeHODL69Doge on twitter who thinks every movie will be ai generated by 2026 is moron because, very simply, i don't exist in a social environment where i run into that kind of guy or anyone who doesn't think that kind of guy is a moron, and also because liberals can and have done a pretty great job comprehensively debunking that type of guy's nonsense arguments and empty tech hype.

this does not apply to me but many users on tumblr who "advocate for AI art" are literally just defending themselves against vicious ableist harassment mobs who think it's okay to tell a disabled person their disablity isn't real or they should draw with their mouth or they're just whiny because they used the funny picture machine, so i think what those people might be trying to accomplish is to stop getting harassed, and i think that's a pretty admirable goal

my personal goal is to encourage people to think more critically about new technologies and understand that where these new technologies immiserate them it is because of the social structures and economic system under which that technology is deployed, not because of an evil devil curse lurking in the technology itself. hopefully this answers some of your confusion.

[kenjisatos]

MSBY BLACK JACKALS READ THIRST TWEETS ! (ATSUMU EDITION)

second part of this series! i love to see more of this team <3

[sakusa version]

this fic features…

haikyuu timeskip!spoilers, highly suggestive content (as the title entails), inappropriate language, atsumu keeps getting violated by his teammates, i headcanon sakusa to be fluent in english (argue with the wall), genre: crack, some of these are actual tweets i found lol.

The videos begins with multiple flash shots of Atsumu screaming, Hinata and Bokuto bursting into laughter, and a clip of the camera zooming in on Sakusa’s disgusted face.

- cut scene -

“Hi, we’re the MSBY Black Jackals, and we’re here with Buzzfeed to read your thirst tweets.” The 4 of them say together.

Hinata drums on his chair, “Miyaaaaa Atsumuuuu edition!”

Atsumu smirks at the camera, “I know you’ve all been waiting for this.”

The cameraman speaks up, “Are you excited?”

Atsumu nods enthusiastically, “Hell yeah! I can take this like a champ, unlike Omi-Omi…”. He side eyes the outside hitter, who, in return, flips off the setter—but the video pixelates it for censorship.

Bokuto snorts, “That’s what she said…”

Atsumu chuckles and claps his hands together. “Let’s get started!”

- cut scene -

The crew tosses a phone to Atsumu. He catches it and clears his throat. “Alright, first one…”

“How can I transform into one of those cameras used for volleyball games? Oh to get that view of Miya Atsumu’s dick all up in front of me when he does his sexy low set.”

Atsumu chuckles, “I can practically see you drooling from here, user.”

Hinata wiggles his eyebrows and pretends to hit a spike, “It is a sexy set, Miya.”

Bokuto fakes an animalistic growling noise, “When you get down low and—“

“Oh please, why are we praising Miya for flashing the camera?” Sakusa cuts in.

Atsumu huffs, “I’m not flashing them on purpose!” He then turns to the camera and winks, “Unless you want me to…”

“Barf.”

“Shut yer trap, Omi-Omi!”

Hinata snickers, “Miya, your accent is slipping in…”

His voice is high pitched and whiny as he replies, “No, it’s n—!”, he clears his throat, his voice now two octaves deeper, “No, it’s not.”

Bokuto chuckles, slapping the setter on the back. Atsumu simply passes the phone to him to read the next tweet.

“Funny how I want to throw hands at Inarizaki Miya Atsumu, but at the same time, I want to throw my panties off for MSBY Miya Atsumu.”

Sakusa laughs, actually laughs, for the first time since they started the shoot. His rowdy companions slowly turn to him, eyes blown wide at the rare sight of their stoic teammate showing an ounce of amusement.

Sakusa’s laugh trails off, “Yeah…you were a piece of shit in high school.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you were. Still are.”

Hinata tries to reassure the blond, “Don’t worry, Miya, I thought you were cool.”

Bokuto quips, “Hinata, I thought you couldn’t tell the difference between him and Osamu.”

Hinata’s eyes widen and Atsumu glares at the orange-head, “Seriously, Shoyo?”

Hinata waves his hands dismissively, “I-I-I…”

Atsumu sighs, “You guys keep distracting me! I’m supposed to be replying to these thirst tweets.”

Bokuto holds a hand to his heart, “We are sorry, your highness.”

Atsumu looks at the camera and smirks, “Keep your panties on, ladies. I like to do it with them on.”

Sakusa stares at Atsumu in disgust, the beginning scene of the video making its’ debut as the cameraman zooms in on Sakusa’s revolted expression.

“How do you do it with it on?” Bokuto thinks out loud.

Hinata responds, “I think he means it’s pulled to the side?”

Bokuto’s mouth turns into an animated ‘o’ shape, “Ohhh, or or or he—“

Their pr manager coughs loudly off screen. Sakusa gives their manager a grateful look, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

The other three pout as their conversation is cut short. Bokuto hands the phone to Hinata; he squints his eyes at the screen as he tries to make out the words. He begins to read:

“Have y’all seen Miya Atsumu? If that dick slap his thigh when he walk, I shall listen when he talk.”

Hinata laughs but continues, “The Twitter user reposted themselves saying ‘Sheesh.’ with 18 fucking android emojis.”

Bokuto leans closer to Hinata, “Ooh! Lemme see, lemme see.”

Atsumu grins smugly with his eyes closed in satisfaction, his hand coming up to run through his platinum hair.

Sakusa speaks up, “Stop posing for the edits.”

Atsumu seems to ignore Sakusa’s comment as he faces the camera. “Well in that case, I guess you’ll all be listening to me.”

Hinata snorts, “Proof?”

Bokuto guffaws while Hinata holds his laughter in behind a cheeky smile.

Atsumu’s cheeks flush red at his words, “I ain’t showing you nothin’!”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, “Trust me, we’ve seen enough in the locker room.”

Bokuto hides behind Atsumu and holds his hands up a certain distance to insinuate the length of Atsumu’s…commodity.

Atsumu continues, practically flirting with the camera, “But trust me y’all, it does, indeed, slap.”

Hinata leans his elbow over Atsumu’s shoulder, “Yeah and so does he!”

The sound effect of a turntable skidding plays.

Atsumu flinches away from Hinata, “WHAT???”

Their pr manager stands up quickly from their seat, a horrified expression on their face; the threat of losing their job rushing in their head.

Bokuto is holding a hand over his mouth, the Buzzfeed crew members are exchanging nervous looks, even Sakusa has his eyes wide open.

Hinata realizes his mistake and freezes for a moment before he’s jumping and scuttling around in a panic.

“I-I-I MEAN HE SLAPS—NO, NOT LIKE SLAPS, LIKE SLAPS LIKE SLANG ‘YEAH THAT SHIT SLAPS’ KIND OF SLAP. NOT PHYSICAL ABUSE SLAP I—”, he exhales sharply, “I’M GONNA STOP TALKING NOW!!”

Sakusa snorts and covers his face with his hands, Bokuto has tears in his eyes from how hard he’s holding in his laughter, the MSBY pr manager sits back down, their pale face slowly regaining its color. Atsumu is left with what can only be described as a sea-sick expression, almost constipated. After a few seconds, he remembers how to speak and says:

“Shoyo…what the fuck.”

“I’M SORRY!”

Sakusa opens his palm up, he’s biting his lip to not let a chuckle escape. “Give me the phone, Hinata.”

Hinata wordlessly hands the phone over as Bokuto giggles and places both his hands on Hinata’s shoulders and jumps in place to brighten up the mood.

Atsumu finally laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Almost caught myself a scandal there.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Sakusa mutters as he scrolls to the next tweet he has to read.

“Miya is so fucking hot, I want that man to turn my legs into jello.”

Atsumu grins, “Well well well—“

Sakusa continues reading the tweet, “I’m talking about Miya Osamu btw, aka the better twin.”

Atsumu opens his eyes, “Huh??”

Sakusa snickers, “Finally a tweet I agree with.”

Bokuto raises his hand to cup around his lips and whispers to Hinata, “Here come the SakuSamu shippers…”

Hinata whispers back, “I thought they were called Omigiris…”

The camera crew turns to a very confused Atsumu, “We thought it would be funny to add an Osamu tweet” one of them says.

Atsumu scowls like a petulant child.

Hinata perks up, “Osamu is pretty sexy, ey? In his Onigiri Miya compression shirt too…”

Bokuto nods in agreement, “And that cap? Smash.”

Atsumu whines, “Guyssss, this is supposed to be about meeee!”

“Womp womp.”

“Omiii :(“

Sakusa gives the phone back to Atsumu, who pouts and sticks his tongue out before he grumbles, “Y’all love to bully me, huh? And here I thought we would have deep team bonding conversations.”

Sakusa quirks an eyebrow up, “…at a thirst tweets shoot?”

“It’s personal and vulnerable,” Hinata replies.

“The only vulnerable thing at risk here is my wellbeing,” Sakusa retorts.

Atsumu sighs as he grabs the phone from Sakusa. “I hope the next tweet makes me feel better…”, he mutters.

“I just know that if Miya Atsumu called me a real good boy, it would awaken something in me.”

Bokuto starts barking at that, “Yeah, it awakens that inner dog in me.”

“We are the Black Jackals.” Sakusa comments, matter-a-factly.

“Are they talking about that time you and Kageyama were at that youth camp?” Hinata asks.

Atsumu nods, “I believe so.”

“Then how do they know you said that…?”

Sakusa responds amusedly, “Knowing Tobio, he probably tweeted about it. That man hates Miya.”

Atsumu defends himself, “Hey now, hate is a strong word. Tobio-kun is just jealous that I’m Shoyo’s setter.”

Bokuto, once again, leans in closer to Hinata to whisper, “Here come the KageHina and AtsuHina shippers…”

Atsumu stares right at the camera with a smoldering expression, “User, you’re being a real good boy…”

Bokuto barks again. The video adds a sound effect that makes it sound like a chorus of Bokutos are barking all around.

Atsumu laughs and passes the phone to Bokuto.

“Someone on here said the English equivalent to Miya Atsumu’s Kansai dialect is a country accent. Well then, call me a cowboy the way I’d be riding that man till the break of dawn. #SaveAHorseRideACowboy”

The video adds a cowboy hat and lasso to Atsumu, who pretends to be on a horse. His voice is much deeper as he says, “Yeehaw~”

“Oooh we have international fans!” Hinata speaks excitedly.

Bokuto’s eyes light up at Hinata’s comment, “Oooh, Omi-kun, say something to them!”

Sakusa squints his eyes and raises an eyebrow, “What do you want me to say?”

Atsumu jumps in, “Tell them I’d be happy to let them have a go at this rodeo ride.” He clicks his tongue with a wink.

Sakusa sighs then looks directly at the camera, and says the following in perfect English: “I hope your taste in men improves from what it is now. My condolences.”

Atsumu smiles, completely oblivious to the insult. “Thanks, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa smiles, an evil little smile. “My pleasure.”

- cut scene -

Atsumu tosses the phone back to the crew, “And that was it! I thoroughly enjoyed the ego boost, minus the parts when the team bullied me.”

“You were a good sport, Miya.” Hinata tells him.

“Thanks, Shoyo. And you’re a horrible speaker.”

Hinata’s face burns scarlet again at the reminder of his misfortunate wording earlier.

“2 out of 4 completed!”, Bokuto exclaims.

“Yes, we’re so close to being done.” Sakusa says, though he looks way too happy and relieved.

“More coming your way!” Hinata adds.

“Stay tuned~” Atsumu points at the camera.

“We’re the MSBY Black Jackals, goodbye!”

kenjisatos

🏷️ @dervngedgf

[papaya-twinks]

It's me again (the anon who asked for the Short fic of Lando) 🤠🤠🤠

I'll identify myself as Lia (I don't post openly because I'm embarrassed, but I already consider us great friends ❤️ haha)

About a sequel to this story, I can only say "YES PLEASE" (I would ask anyway 😂)

I was thinking that for the reader's first victory, Lando would be amazed by her beauty on the podium, after taking a champagne bath, her golden glow after the victory etc. And that will make him crazy and very horny for the reader. However, our reader is keen to play with Lando. she will "run away" from him all day claiming to have meetings with the team after the race and at night, despite them being together at the same party, she makes a point of not talking to him and always being involved in a group with more than one person so he can't talk dirty to her or something.

This makes Lando even more thirsty for her but they only manage to have a moment alone in the elevator, returning to the hotel room. Lando wants to punish (not with violence) her and please her at the same time for being so stubborn during the day and so beautiful and seductive, so he gives the reader multiple orgasms with his fingers and mouth. The reader even thinks that she won't be able to get to the part where he uses his member, but she does, and OMG it's the best sexual experience of her life.

That's what I thought for a second part 🤭. I apologize for the length of the text and for any mistakes, I'm Brazilian and not very good with English. (Feel free to change anything if you're not comfortable writing about something I sent).

Eagerly awaiting the continuation 🫶🏻✨

Warnings: Smut, 18+, teasing, kinda breeding

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - firstly I don’t judge requests <3, but also, I’ve heard of someone else on here called Lia. Are you alright with messaging me or something? Also making part 2

Lando’s words rang out in your ears for ages afterwards. What happens after you win a race. It was like motivation, a fuel of some sorts, driving you forwards to win. Which is exactly what you did the following week. “And Y/N Y/L/N has won her first Grand Prix here in Canada!” the commentator yelled as you screamed and cheered through the radio. 

As you thanked the team, all you could think about were Lando’s words. “Wow, Y/N,” the interviewer smiled, “what a victory! So close to Lando,”. You smiled at the words, “Yeah, Lando was really close, it was hard keeping him off,” you laughed, “but yeah, a win’s a win,”. Lando congratulated, evidently impressed, his hug lingering a little longer than usual. 

“And in first, Y/N Y/L/N!” you ran onto the podium, beaming as you locked eyes with Lando on his second place step. “Well done,” he whispered as the anthems begun. You held the trophy aloft, Lando’s eyes tracing your movements like his life depended on it, his own trophy limo at his side as he watched you. And the podium music began, Lando was his signature bottle slam, as he immediately sent the spray to you. 

You shrieked, feeling the bubbly liquid coat you, your skin radiating with the golden glow. Lando had to physically restrain himself from falling to his knees right then. You were gorgeous. Oh what he’d give to just bend you over right then and there. “Remember our promise?” he said, subtly whispering into your ear as you took the podium picture. “Might do,” you shrugged, a small smile on your face. 

“Team debrief,” you said, following the man who collected the trophy as Lando watched you, disappointment etched on his face. “After,” he said. And when the debrief finished, you told him you had another PR meeting. “Done, finally?” Lando asked, seeing you emerge from your motorhome.  “Mhm,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his neck, “oh, wait, I have another meeting,” you said, blinking innocently at him as he groaned 

“You’re doing it on purpose,” Lando grabbed your arm to stop you from walking away, “you’re being a brat on purpose,”. You looked at him, as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. “Don’t give me that,” he said, eyebrow raised at your expression. “And here I am, trying to reward you for winning. Now you’re gonna get punished,” your eyes widened at his words as he took your hand, pushing you back into your room. 

Any of the real meetings you genuinely had were gonna be missed. 

“Lando,” you gasped as he tugged at your team shirt, clawing it off your chest, your baggy trousers coming off with it. “What?” he said, eyebrow raised as he pushed you against the wall, his hand twisting the lock of the door. “Fuck,” you gasped as he nipped at your neck and collarbone. “Feel good?” he asked, lifting your legs up, onto his waist, his hands firmly on you ass. 

Your lips met, a warm, passionate kiss filled with lust and desire, as he moved one hand to your hair, the other one tugging your panties down. “Fuck” he pushed you onto the bed, “you’re soaking, y’know?”. You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips as he threw your legs onto his shoulders, your hands tugging at his curls as his mouth came to your folds. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, his lips pressing featherlight kisses to your pussy, your wrists in his hand, your breast in his other. “Lando feels s’good,” you gasped, tugging at his locks, your hips pressing against him as he groaned, pushing you down. He moved his hand down to your stomach, holding you down, his mouth staying on you as you wriggled. “Fuck, Lando!” you shrieked, your orgasm was like heaven. 

He moved away from your core, his wet, warm lips trailing up your abdomen, his lashes clinging together with your wetness. “Feel good, doesn’t it?” he asked, your body shaking a bit from your high, “Doesn’t it?” he asked again, voice more demanding. You nodded, a small whimper leaving your lips as he took one of you tits into your mouth, swirling his tongue round the sensitive bud. “Lando, fuck” you gasped, his finger running through your folds again. 

Oh he meant punishment. You moaned again as his finger pushed into you, your hips bucking into him, his lips still sucking. “Lando don’t stop,” you rolled your hips against his hand as he pushed his middle finger in, curling inside of you as gasped, the sensation was heavenly. “Oh god, fuck,” you felt another high coming up. 

Your eyes rolled at the sensations, cheeks fiery red as you moaned - at this rate, you wouldn’t be able to take his actual dick. “Lando, Lan…” your voice trailed off, filtering into mewls and moans as you felt another orgasm wash over you. “So good f’me,” Lando mumbled, pulling you onto his lap, your body tired against his, “looked so good on the podium, y’know?” he cooed, pulling his own joggers down. 

One hand pumped his length, the other with his fingers deep inside of you, pumping slowly. “Gonna give me one more, okay?” he asked, lifting you up, before letting you sink onto his cock. “So fucking tight, Y/N, always so tight f’me,” he groaned, bouncing you softly on his lap, his hand coming to circle your clit. 

You were already sensitive from your last two orgasms, the knot building up quicker…faster, as his pace deepened. “Lando, Lando, I’m close,” you whined, your head on his shoulder as he bounced you. “That’s it, yeah? Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, one hand dangling in your hair. “One more, okay?” Lando said, still bouncing you gently. 

You moaned again as he didn’t stop, your body tightening round his as he groaned. “Fuck, Y/N, gonna cum in you,” he mumbled, “gonna fill you up good,”. His words were what sent you over the edge, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he rode out your high for you, before he followed. “Oh fuck, Y/N,” he groaned as you tightened round him, your body against his chest. 

“So tight, fuck,” he gasped, “gonna fill you up, fill you right up,”. You felt his warm, hot cum shoot in this ropes inside of you, his head thrown back, resting his weight on his arms, which were shaking, his eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. “Mmm fuck,” you groaned, eyes shut again. “Feels s’good,” you whined. “I know,” he said, a kiss to your cheek. 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

III who is best friends with reader and blatantly hates her now-ex because he was a piece of work :] (i regret dating my ex help)

May end with III and Reader drunk and making out. Add onto this idea if you'd like!!

First choice

iii never liked him. From the moment you introduced them, he hated the guy. So did he squeeze his hand just a bit harder while they shook hands? Yes. Did he ask a stupid question on purpose? Yes. And did his stare promise death? Yes, it did. “Can you behave?”, you had hissed at him a while picking up extra cutlery. “Haven’t killed the idiot so I think I’m behaving just fine”, iii had shrugged, making you let out a grunt as you went back into the dining room.

And quite frankly his suspicions had started to unfold not even after a month of you two being together. From missed dates to ghosted text. To fight each day. iii was a patient man he was listed to you talk about this over and over again. Suppressing the urge to punch the fucker next time he saw him. But it’s a random Friday, he’s been stuck in a studio for hours. Lost in music, when the door opens.

As if by a natural pull his head snaps up. His gut turned at the sight of your bloodshot eyes. The guitar is off his shoulders in seconds as he moves to the side, dogging Ivy as he moves towards the door. “Hey”, he manages to mutter before your eyes meet his and it’s like the final straw snaps. The sob that leaves your lips even with a hand clapped over your mouth is heartbreaking. iii puls you in, one hand cupping the back of your head. His jaw tenses as he feels you bunching up his shirt in your tiny palms as you pull him closer. “I’ve got you”, he mutters, “just breathe with me”.

He’s hyper-aware of everything, the fact that the boys stopped playing. He can feel their eyes burning holes in his back. He can feel how unevenly your heart is beating. The little tremble in your hands. “Come on, I will grab my stuff and we’ll leave”, leaning in he pressed a kiss to your head. “Can you go wait in the car?” He squeezes your shoulder looking down at you. You just nod, taking his car keys from him. Letting go is so hard and he’s left staring at the door for a moment. “iii”, it’s vessel’s voice that pulls him out. “I have it under control”, he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “Head on your shoulders, mate”, ii says calmly, but iii wasn’t listening as he ducked through the door.

Now hours later his shirt was drenched from tears. Your body was pressed against his as iii slowly ran his fingers through your hair. “I don’t get it”, you muttered for what felt like a thousand time. iii let his eyes close for a heartbeat, “love, he’s the one who fucked up”, he said firmly, “wish I could give him peace of my mind”, “No, promise me you won’t do something stupid if you run into him”, you reached out grasping his hand. “Define stupid”, “iii”, you warned him. “I hate seeing you like this over some… stupid prick”, he grunted, wiping away yet another tear from your cheeks.

You just sighed, shaking your head slightly, “always wanted to be someone’s first choice”. iii watched you for a moment, “you are though”, he pointed out. “Not really no”, you shook your head. “To me you are, always been my first choice”, your head turned to him so fast your vision blurred for a moment, “what?”, you muttered. “Now is probably not the best…”, “iii”, you said a say, shaking your head. “I like you, thought it was quite obvious”, he muttered. “But you… I saw you with… the blonde”, you whispered. “Emily works for our pr, that’s why she was here a couple of times”, iii frowned slightly.

“I only went out with Ben because…”, you let your words trail off before your eyes moved back to iii. You fist his shirt once again, crashing your lips into his. It’s messy and desperate. Both riding a shock wave of it all. “Let…”, iii pulls away, breathlessly before leaning in for one more kiss, “let’s take this slow. Let me properly wine and dine you”, he mutters against your lips. “You don’t have to, I’ve known you for years”, you muse. “No, we are doing it the proper way”, iii argues back, “And I still might punch your ex”, “iii”, you grunt but he’s quick to shush you by brushing his lips over yours once more.

[ggukkiedae]

notes: WELCOME HOME HOBI! (dialogue written in italics are spoken in english)

setting: october 17, 2024

word count: 566

taglist: @sunflower-0180 @seaoffangirling @yourwonderbelle @1-800-enhypennabi @kamiiyou @strwberrydinosaur @uraveragefangirlsposts @caratinylyfe @1-800-minji @one16core @kimhyejin3108 @chansols @akshverse @toriluvsfics @billboard-singer @stopeatread @allthings-fandoms @jammingjaem drop an ask or a dm if you wanna be added or taken out of the taglist 🥰 requests are also open!

The atmosphere was tense in the best way.

Yoonmi kept looking out the van window, checking for the familiar figure she was waiting to see. The car shook slightly as she bounced her leg, fingers going up to tug at the ends of her hair.

“Geez,” Seokjin threw one leg over her lap and pulled her hands into one of his, “were you this jittery when I was discharged?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

A chuckle escaped him, “That’s such a PR answer.”

“As a Bangtan member in this media economy…” she trailed off, making both of them laugh.

As much as her eldest member was able to distract her for a bit, her attention almost immediately faded back to the gates she had purposely asked their manager to park in view of.

Having Seokjin back has been one of the best things to happen to her in 2024, especially with him visiting her on her tour and hosting her comeback live just last month. Now that she had finished the tour, the absence of the other six members was starting to fill her senses.

“Hey,” her companion’s smile was evident in his voice while his posture shifted to grab the giant bouquet next to him, “if you stop overthinking right now, you’ll notice a little someone coming.”

Her eyes widened as she turned to look out the window. A familiar smile made its way into her view, unconsciously making the corners of her lips curl up.

Hoseok had come out of the gates.

Before anyone could even process what was happening, Yoonmi had already slammed the car door open and practically teleported to Hoseok’s arms.

There was a small grunt that came from him as he held her up, wrapping her in a hug as well. 

She immediately buried her face into his chest, noting how much taller he felt due to his combat boots and her lack of platform shoes. “You’re home!”

“Almost, makdungie,” he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “I still have to say hi to Jin hyung and talk to the media first.”

“Get back here,” a third voice joined their conversation.

The confusion was obvious in her face as Seokjin grabbed her by the back of her hoodie, pulling her off of Hoseok, only for him to hug his first discharged younger brother.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Hoseok laughed as he hugged Seokjin, “and what are these flowers, hyung? They’re bigger than our makdungie!”

“Obviously I was going to get you something big,” Seokjin scoffed.

“Alright, alright,” Hoseok smiled at his eldest and his youngest member, “let me address the media, then we can get out of here.”

Yoonmi watched in pride as Hoseok confidently addressed the media (and with amusement at Seokjin’s antics) before being caught off guard by the prior turning to look at her.

“Also, before I end, I need to do this.” His posture immediately straightened, Seokjin stretching his arms up further to accommodate the younger member who sharply raised his fingertips to his brow. “Sergeant Jung Ho Seok reporting the successful completion of his compulsory military enlistment to Bang Yoonmi, otherwise known as Kim Yoonmi.” 

A gentle smile made its way to her face, mirroring his. “You’re home.”

He looked at her, sharply bringing his hand back down before relaxing his posture.

“I’m home.”

(there were articles the next day about jin's amusing reaction of being fake annoyed that he didn't have a similar emotional moment with hobi and his appalled face upon realizing miya was riding in hobi's car rather than with him)

[andypantsx3]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI : MASTERLIST

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

bakugou writing tag | universal masterlist

MULTI-CHAPTER

incendiary (30K) : complete

When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

you’re the one that i haunt (15K) : complete

Ghosts aren’t real. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when the spirit of pro hero Dynamight suddenly starts haunting your apartment.

statistically significant (24K) : complete

You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

cover shot (through the heart) (16.5K) : complete

For years, you’ve been the only assistant in the business equipped to handle foul-tempered supermodel Katsuki Bakugou. That is, until he catches on to your weak point.

war paint (28K) : complete

Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (A Mulan AU)

savvy (17.5K) : complete

You’re a business course third year who’s good at being bossy, organized, and data-driven. You just want to use your business savvy to help all heroes. Well, all heroes except one. [smutty one shot follow on: defiant]

barbarian-verse au (various) : in progress

You find yourself traveling with barbarian Bakugou. Things get complicated quickly.

ONE SHOTS

fruit first (ask questions later) (3.6K) - gn!reader

When the grocery store you’re in becomes collateral in a villain attack, pro hero Dynamight comes to your rescue. When you become armed with a handful of oranges, however, someone may need to come to his rescue…

abs-olutely worth it (3.5K) - gn!reader

You’re an amateur hero photographer whose shots of Bakugou’s abs keep going viral. Everything is going great…until Bakugou catches wind of it.

defiant (4.5K)

There are a lot of benefits to managing your pro hero boyfriend, but dealing with the PR nightmares he generates is not one of them. After Katsuki gets way too mouthy with a hapless reporter, you take it upon yourself to put him in his place. Katsuki, however, has other ideas. [a smutty oneshot companion to savvy; you do not need to have read savvy first!]

DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS

general bakugou x princess reader (1.1K) -> part two (3.2K)

Your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry. There is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne.

always (1.5K)

Best friend Bakugou helps you through a breakup.

todobakureader domestic fluff (1K)

The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.

destruction (1.6K)

"Are you this stupid on purpose?"

wine & dine (0.3K)

“Oh my god, I am gonna fuck whoever made this apple pie so hard they see stars for weeks.”

always first (0.7K)

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling."

just can’t weight (0.8K)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" + gym bro Bakugou

personal chef (0.4K)

Living with Bakugou is like living with your own personal chef.

fan art (0.2K)

Bakugou has an embarrassing secret (ft super cute art from Merms!!)

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse; SA; fluff; crash

Masterlist

CHAPTER 9

As Lando prepares for his first race back in the car since the accident, the atmosphere is charged with anticipation and excitement. The British Grand Prix, his home race, adds an extra layer of significance to the occasion. The energy in the air is palpable as the fans, eager to witness their local hero back on the track, fill the grandstands with cheers and banners.

Lando's determination is a beacon, shining brighter than ever. The challenges and uncertainties that followed the accident have only fueled his resilience. The sight of his McLaren gleaming on the grid ignites a fire within him, a renewed sense of purpose that transcends the ordinary pursuit of victory.

The moments before the race are a flurry of activity. The team works meticulously to ensure the car is in optimal condition, every detail scrutinised to maximise performance. Lando, surrounded by the familiar faces of his dedicated crew, shares nods and words of encouragement. The camaraderie is evident as everyone rallies behind their driver, each person in the McLaren garage contributing to the collective aspiration of victory.

“Welcome back, Lando. You gave us quite the scare back in Monaco, but we’re pleased to see you back and smiling. How are you doing?”The interviewer asks.

“I’m feeling great. My body’s healed up nicely. I’m very thankful to everyone who played a part in my recovery, it’s not every day that something like that happens, but everyone did their best and I appreciate that.” Lando comments, his gratitude evident in his voice and smile.

“What’s your headspace like heading into your home race this weekend?” The interviewer continues.

“It’s a positive headspace. I kind of try to forget about the last few weeks, it was beyond anyone’s control, so heading into this week, it’s pretty much back to normal. I love racing on this track, and it’s home, so that helps.” Lando concludes before returning to the McLaren garage.

Upon Lando's return to the garage, a sense of normalcy returns as he seamlessly transitions into the routine of a race weekend. Without missing a beat, he joins Natalie, and together they delve into the intricacies of his race weekend schedule. The professional camaraderie takes precedence, temporarily overshadowing the nuances of their romantic relationship within the confines of the work environment.

In the controlled chaos of the garage, surrounded by the hum of machinery and the focused energy of the McLaren team, Lando and Natalie synchronise their efforts. Their interactions are marked by efficiency, communication, and a shared commitment to the tasks at hand. The dynamics between them shift seamlessly from the personal to the professional, a testament to their ability to compartmentalise and navigate the complexities of their dual roles.

“Lando.” Adam's voice rings out from behind him and Natalie as they sieve through his social media content for the race weekend. “I need to chat with you.”

Lando, sensing the urgency in his father's tone, follows him to his driver's room. As they enter, Adam shuts the door, creating a private space where their conversation can unfold without the prying ears of the bustling garage.

“What's wrong?” Lando immediately asks, sensing the gravity in his father's tone.

“We've finally found him.” Adam informs his son, the weight of the revelation evident in his expression.

“Who? What are you talking about?” Lando questions, his confusion etched across his face. In response, Adam pulls out his phone, showing Lando a photo of a man in a club.

"Is this him?" Lando asks, scrutinising the image on the phone.

The air in the room becomes charged with anticipation as the pieces of an undisclosed puzzle start to fall into place. The photograph holds a significance that raises more questions than answers, setting the stage for a revelation that could potentially reshape the course of their conversation.

“It seems like the barman spiked her soda at the club that night. She had one drink from what I could tell, and he was the one who handed it to her. She kept her drink covered the entire time, so the only time someone had access to spiking it was before she received it.” Adam explains, referencing the night in Shanghai when Natalie was drugged and assaulted.

The room tightens with tension as the implications of Adam's discovery sink in.

“But, why? He doesn't know her, does he?” Lando continues to prod, seeking to understand the motive behind such a malicious act.

“I had a friend of a friend go by the club and speak to him. And, you'll never believe what we found.” Adam explains, swiping to reveal a photo of Lucas, Natalie's ex-boyfriend.

“No way," Lando seethes, his disbelief and anger evident.

The revelation hits close to home, and the betrayal is twofold—first by the barman, and now by someone Natalie once trusted intimately. The shock and frustration emanating from Lando reflect the emotional turmoil of discovering that someone from Natalie's past could be involved in such a reprehensible act.

“He came in the day before, apparently he knew where she would be going, paid the barman a hefty amount to spike her drink. We suspect he has some hidden app on her phone so he can see exactly what she’s doing, when, and with whom. I’ll need to get her phone cleaned. Lando, Lucas was there that night in the club. I also got a different camera angle from the opposite side of the club and it clearly shows him watching her, approaching her, and then dancing up behind her. She spins around and immediately hurries away, likely to the bathroom where she called you from. There weren’t any cameras there for us to see if he followed her again, but he just disappeared.” Adam details.

The revelation unfolds with a chilling precision, exposing the orchestrated cruelty behind Natalie's assault. The calculated actions of Lucas, manipulating the situation and exploiting intimate knowledge of Natalie's whereabouts, paint a disturbing picture of betrayal and malice.

“He's insane. He's literally insane. He claimed to love her. Who does that to someone they supposedly love?” Lando argues, his anger palpable, a storm brewing within him that his father has never witnessed before.

“Son, it gets worse.” Adam adds gravely. “He has a paddock pass this weekend.”

“No fucking way.” Lando grunts, the shock and disbelief evident in his voice.

The sanctuary of the racing world, meant for competition, suddenly feels tainted by the presence of an ominous figure from Natalie's past.

“We'll do what we can to protect her, but she's bound to run into him at some point.” Adam replies, acknowledging the imminent threat that hovers over Natalie's safety.

“Please, Dad, don't tell her. I don't want her stressing about this, with everything the last few weeks, she's had enough to deal with as is.” Lando urges his father, his concern for Natalie's well-being overriding any desire for immediate confrontation.

“Of course.” Adam agrees. “But, we'll have to think of a way to keep her safe. If he can drug her that easily, who knows what he can do here. She's by herself most of the time.”

“I'll think of something.” Lando mumbles before a knock on the door interrupts them, signalling an intrusion into the private space where they grapple with the unsettling reality that has unfolded.

The impending challenge of ensuring Natalie's safety in the paddock adds a layer of complexity to an already emotionally charged race weekend.

"Sorry, I hate to bother. Lando, we need to finalise your content, please," Natalie sheepishly explains her intrusion as she pops her head into the room.

The transition from the weighty conversation to the demands of the race weekend is abrupt, but Natalie's professional demeanour glosses over any traces of the private matters being discussed behind closed doors. The racing world, with its relentless pace, demands a swift return to the immediate tasks at hand, and Natalie, aware of the intricacies involved, seamlessly switches gears. Lando, while grappling with the recent revelations, acknowledges the necessity to refocus on the upcoming race.

“Of course, let me be out of your hair.” Adam quickly excuses himself, sensing the need for privacy between Lando and Natalie.

“Everything OK?” She asks Lando, her concern evident in her gaze.

“Yeah, all good.” Lando lies, attempting to shield her from the weight of the recent revelations. However, the internal conflict is palpable, and he hesitates before admitting, “Actually, no.”

“What do you mean?” She asks, her confusion deepening as she senses a shift in the atmosphere of the room. The veneer of normalcy cracks, revealing a layer of unspoken tension that lingers between them. Natalie, attuned to Lando's emotions, waits for him to unravel the truth.

“I may or may not have tracked down the guy who drugged and assaulted you in China, with my Dad’s help, of course.” Lando admits.

“You did what?” Natalie exclaims, her surprise and shock evident. “Why would you do that?”

“I needed to know who it was, Nattie. He could have really hurt you.” Lando explains, his concern for Natalie evident in his words.

“So, who is he?” Natalie quickly asks, seeking an answer. The urgency in her voice reflects the immediate need to understand the identity of the person responsible for the traumatic incident in Shanghai.

“I don’t have a name.” He lies. “I just know that he’s been spotted in the UK in the last few days.”

“This is actually crazy right now.” She breathes, her heart racing.

The revelation adds another layer of complexity to the situation, leaving Natalie in a state of uncertainty and unease. The lack of a definitive name amplifies the mystery surrounding the person who orchestrated the assault, and the proximity of the threat raises the stakes for both of them.

“Please, Nattie, I’m asking you nicely, please do not do anything by yourself this weekend, even in the paddock.” Lando begs her.

“You don’t think he’ll be in the paddock.” She shakes her head in denial.

“I don’t know, but I cannot risk you getting hurt.” Lando tells her as he pulls her closer to him. “Please promise me you’ll have someone from the team with you at all times, just for this weekend while we figure out what to do about him.”

“Why did you do this?” She quips, her brain digesting the fact that he had purposely sought her assailant.

“I can’t let someone get away with hurting you.” He half explains.

“Yeah, sure, but that’s a lot of effort.” She shyly responds.

“I told you I can’t lose you. Hand-in-hand with that goes a promise to protect you, to the best of my ability. Let me do that. Let me protect you and keep you safe.” He finally admits. “No matter the amount of effort, or the time, or the distance - I will do what I can to keep you safe.”

The vulnerability in Lando's plea cuts through the complex emotions of the moment. The admission of his commitment to her safety, despite the challenges and uncertainties, unveils a depth of care that transcends the boundaries of their public personas. In this intimate moment, their connection strengthens, grounded in a shared understanding of the need for protection and support.

The weight of his words hangs in the air, a testament to the sincerity and depth of Lando's feelings. The realisation that he went to such lengths, confronting a potentially dangerous individual, solely to ensure her safety, leaves Natalie with a mix of emotions—gratitude, awe, and a growing awareness of the depth of their connection.

In the midst of the chaos surrounding them, Lando's unwavering commitment to her well-being becomes a beacon of support. The paddock, usually filled with the noise of race preparations, momentarily fades into the background as the significance of their shared moment takes centre stage.

“I feel like I should write that down.” He jokes.

“Why, so I can read it when I don’t believe you?” Natalie jokes back.

“No, so I can use it in my vows one day.” He responds, causing her to smack his arm.

The banter lightens the atmosphere, injecting a moment of humour into the seriousness of their conversation

“Please, just have someone with you this weekend, especially when I’m not by your side.” He reiterates.

“I promise.” She finally agrees as she hugs him tightly.

In the midst of the racing world's intensity, their love story unfolds, marked by the unconventional backdrop of pit stops, podiums, and paddocks. Lando, with his passion for speed and the vibrant papaya colours associated with McLaren, becomes the unexpected protagonist in the romance she never saw coming. His gestures of care, protection, and understanding create a narrative that transcends the confines of a typical love story.

As the engines roar on the racetrack, so too does the beating of her heart for the man who not only races with fervour but also loves with a depth that surpasses the confines of the fast-paced world they inhabit.

- LATER THAT DAY DURING THE RACE -

A missed call from her mom causes panic to hit Natalie in the middle of the race. She knows her mom wouldn't call her at work unless it was an absolute emergency. She rushes out of the garage, leaving behind the sounds of roaring engines and the intensity of the race. The paddock, filled with people moving up and down past the garages, becomes a maze of anxious anticipation as she presses the phone to her ear.

“Hi, Mamma. You were looking for me?” Natalie speaks into her phone, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

“Sorry, my love, it was an accident. I wanted to message you and ended up calling you instead.” Her mom sweetly explains.

“That’s OK. I just thought-” Her sentence is cut short when she spots a familiar face further down the paddock.

“Honey, are you there?” Her mom asks.

“I’m here. I have to go, though. I’ll call you after the race, OK?” Natalie quickly speaks before hanging up.

With all the people around, she had drifted a distance away from the entrance to the McLaren paddock. The paddock, a buzzing hive of activity with team members, journalists, and fans, proved to be a labyrinth of twists and turns. In the midst of the race excitement, Natalie had momentarily strayed from the familiar path, drawn by the urgency of the call from her mom.

As she hangs up the phone and takes a quick scan of her surroundings, a sense of disorientation kicks in. Racing against time to retrace her steps, she turns to see where Lucas might be but couldn't spot him amid the crowd. Panic sets in, and her steps quicken as she rushes back towards the garage. The familiar sights and sounds of the paddock become a blur as she navigates the human maze, desperate to reach the safety of the familiar McLaren territory.

Frantic and without anyone by her side, as Lando had pleaded with her, Natalie finds herself caught in a moment of vulnerability. The realisation dawns upon her—Lando knew it had been Lucas and deliberately withheld the information. The protective instinct in Lando's actions becomes clear. He chose not to disclose the identity of the person who had caused her distress, perhaps to shield her from the heightened anxiety that such knowledge might induce.

In the midst of the racing world's chaos, Natalie grapples with the conflicting emotions of gratitude for Lando's protective gesture and the realisation that there are elements of her past that still hold the power to disrupt her present. As she hurries back to the garage, the intensity of the race is momentarily eclipsed by the personal turmoil unravelling in the paddock.

- AFTER THE RACE -

“Where’s Natalie?” Lando yells as he celebrates with his team on a P2 finish in the British GP.

“No idea.” Zak yells back as the crowd keeps growing louder.

The jubilation of the race result echoes through the paddock, but Lando's elation is tinged with concern for Natalie's whereabouts. Amidst the cheers and the team's celebratory atmosphere, her absence becomes a noticeable void.

The thrill of the podium finish momentarily takes a back seat to Lando's growing unease. The question about Natalie's location hangs in the air, creating a pause in the celebratory chaos.

Lando breaks free from the crew as he rushes into the garage.

“Where’s she?” He asks his father, but doesn’t wait for a response, he just keeps running. “Nattie!”

His voice echoes through the garage, filled with urgency and worry. The celebration around him fades into the background as he searches for the one person who matters most to him. The pit lane becomes a blur as Lando races towards a truth he needs to uncover, his mind echoing with the possibility that something might have gone wrong.

Natalie is locked in Lando's driver's room, hidden beneath the massage table, when she hears Lando's voice screaming her name. The sound reverberates through the room, heightening the tension in the air. As his calls pierce through the silence, the door rattles from his attempts to gain access, his hands banging on the door, urgently pleading for her to open it.

In the confined space beneath the massage table, Natalie can feel her heartbeat syncing with the frantic rhythm of Lando's cries. The fear of being discovered intensifies with each passing second. The room becomes a sanctuary of isolation, echoing with the outside world's chaos and the desperate plea of someone searching for her.

Unable to endure the mounting pressure, Natalie decides to end the charade. She gets up, her hands trembling as she unlocks the door. The door swings open, revealing a breathless Lando on the other side. His eyes scan the room, settling on her panicked expression and shaky hands. The relief on his face is palpable as he steps inside, shutting the door behind him, creating a momentary bubble of privacy in the midst of the paddock's tumult.

“It's Lucas... isn't it?” She manages to speak, her voice laden with fear and vulnerability. “He was in the paddock earlier, and then he was just gone. Please tell me it isn't Lucas.”

The revelation of Lucas's presence and the implications weigh heavily on the air. Natalie's tears stream down her face, dampening the fabric of Lando's fireproof suite as she seeks solace in his arms.

“I'm sorry, love.” Lando breathes as he pulls her against him, offering a comforting embrace. 

“Why would he do something like that?” She cries into his chest, the pain and confusion evident in her voice.

The question lingers, an unspoken plea for answers to a situation that strikes at the heart of trust and security. The weight of the revelation, the emotions swirling in the air, leaves him momentarily speechless. Sometimes, there are no words that can adequately capture the complexity of the situation, especially when faced with the shocking reappearance of someone from Natalie's past.

In the silence that follows, Lando tightens his embrace, offering a silent reassurance that transcends verbal communication. His presence, a steadying force in the midst of turmoil, becomes a tangible anchor for Natalie as they navigate the uncertainty together. Sometimes, the absence of words speaks volumes, acknowledging the depth of the emotional turmoil and the unspoken commitment to face whatever challenges lie ahead, hand in hand.

After calming Natalie down, Lando continues to debrief with the media and the team, leaving her in the care of his father. As they get ready to leave the paddock, Lando wraps his arm around Natalie, keeping her tight against him. The physical closeness serves as both a shield and a source of comfort, a silent affirmation of their connection and Lando's commitment to providing her with a sense of security.

Strolling down the paddock in silence, the night has settled, and the once-bustling atmosphere has dwindled. Very few people still wander around, allowing the couple a moment of respite amid the shadows of the paddock. Adam, Lando's father, had departed earlier to arrange additional security for both Lando and Natalie. He had pulled some strings to ensure a heightened police presence outside the track premises, further fortifying their protection.

In the quiet of the night, with the paddock lights casting a gentle glow, Lando and Natalie navigate the aftermath of the unsettling revelation, finding solace in each other's presence and the unspoken assurance of shared strength. The night air carries a mixture of tension and determination as they make their way through the paddock.

“I always thought you two would make a good-looking couple.” Lucas' voice echoes as he emerges from the shadows, stopping Lando and Natalie in their tracks. The sudden appearance sends a shiver down their spines, the past converging with the present in an unexpected and unsettling confrontation.

Lando instinctively tightens his grip around Natalie, a protective stance against the intrusion. The paddock, once a place of celebration and victory, transforms into an eerie backdrop for a confrontation that neither of them anticipated. The ambient glow of the paddock lights casts long shadows, accentuating the tension in the air.

Natalie's gaze narrows, a mixture of fear and defiance in her eyes as she confronts the figure from her past.

“There’s no use in hiding her. She’s always been a scared little girl.” Lucas continues, his words slicing through the air with a cruel edge. The tension in the paddock becomes palpable as he attempts to exert control through intimidation.

“You don’t want to do this, mate.” Lando warns him, a firmness in his tone. The protective instinct in Lando intensifies, his posture reflecting a readiness to shield Natalie from any harm.

“Oh, but I do. Because I vividly remember you staring at her, pining after her, pretty much frothing at the mouth when she was around you. Now you have her, but is she really as great as you hoped she would be?” Lucas asks. “Have you not realised that there’s nothing special about her?”

Lucas' words are laced with bitterness and resentment. His attempt to undermine their relationship becomes evident, a calculated effort to sow doubt and discord. Lando's jaw clenches, and his gaze narrows as he absorbs the verbal assault. He remains steadfast, standing beside Natalie with an unwavering determination to protect her from the venomous words.

“I think you need to leave.” Lando continues to warn him, his voice firm and resolute.

The air becomes charged with tension as Lucas takes a step closer to the couple, his actions pushing the boundaries of confrontation. Natalie, feeling the threat escalate, clutches Lando's arm, attempting to pull him back from the brewing conflict.

“And, you. You naughty little whore. Did you really think I was stupid? You got so turned on whenever he smiled at you. I should have known when you suddenly started wearing shorter skirts when you knew he’d be around.” Lucas continues, his words cutting through the air with a venomous tone.

The accusatory remarks aim to demean and shame, further escalating the tension in the paddock. Natalie, stung by the degrading comments, feels a surge of anger and humiliation. She tightens her grip on Lando's arm, seeking solace and strength from his unwavering presence.

“That’s enough. You do not get to speak to her.” Lando barks, his voice carrying a stern and protective edge.

The line has been crossed, and Lando, unwilling to tolerate any further disrespect towards Natalie, asserts himself in the face of Lucas's venomous words.

“Did she tell you she packed all her shit and disappeared in the middle of the night? That she didn’t even have the audacity to leave me in person, she left a note on the kitchen counter.” Lucas adds, his bitterness evident in every word. “She left me without any warning.”

Natalie, caught off guard by the airing of their past, feels a mixture of emotions. Lando, however, remains resolute, refusing to let the past dictate the present. He wraps a protective arm around Natalie, silently conveying his support and determination to shield her from the ghosts of her past relationship.

“I don’t blame her.” Lando counters. “You drugged her and assaulted her, and we have proof.”

The revelation of Lucas's heinous actions shifts the power dynamics of the confrontation. Lando, steadfast in his defence of Natalie, draws a line in the sand, exposing Lucas's true nature.

“I did not assault her.” Lucas argues. “She was drunk and having a good time. Who would have thought she’d be grinding her ass up against me that night and not you?”

His attempt to twist the narrative adds a layer of manipulation to the already charged atmosphere. Lando's jaw clenches once more, his grip on Natalie tightening as he struggles to contain his anger.

“Mate, take one more step and it’s over for you. Did you honestly think you could come into this paddock after what you did in Shanghai and intimidate us? I have people all over this paddock watching us right now. I have video evidence being sent to the police where you’re paying a barman to drug a girl’s drink with the intention of physically harming her. You do not get to scare her any more. You do not get to look her in the face and cause her any more trauma. Do you understand me? You’re going to walk out of here and never look back.” Lando barks with a resolute authority, his words cutting through the tension-laden air. “Leave. Now.”

Lucas, realising the gravity of the situation, begins to retreat hastily. The collective eyes of the paddock, now aware of the unfolding drama, follow his every step. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of tension and anticipation as security guards shadow Lucas's exit.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Lando repeats, his voice cutting through the commotion.

The authority in his tone demands compliance, and Lucas, with a resentful glance back, continues his retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the paddock. As the tension gradually dissipates, Natalie looks up at Lando, a mixture of relief and gratitude in her eyes.

The distant wailing of police sirens grows louder, signalling the swift response to the emergency call. Within moments, uniformed officers arrive on the scene, taking control of the situation. Adam provides the evidence they gathered, including footage of Lucas orchestrating the drugging at the club in Shanghai.

Lucas, now surrounded by law enforcement, is met with stern faces and handcuffs. The seriousness of his actions sinks in as the officers read him his rights. The arrest is swift, and the atmosphere in the paddock shifts from tension to a sense of justice being served.

Natalie watches from a distance, her eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. Lando stands by her side, a protective arm around her shoulders. The weight of the recent events slowly begins to lift as they witness Lucas being led away by the police.

Lando, having fulfilled his promise to protect Natalie, looks down at her with a reassuring smile. The wheels of justice are in motion, and the dark chapter of Lucas's actions is now transitioning to a resolution that ensures accountability.

As they drive back to the hotel, the quietness inside the car is a comfortable one, devoid of tension and anxiety. The events in the paddock have left an emotional residue, but the shared silence between Natalie and Lando carries a sense of mutual understanding. The soft hum of the engine and the gentle rhythm of the road serve as a backdrop to their contemplative thoughts.

Lando occasionally glances at Natalie, his expression a mix of concern and relief. He reaches over and gently takes her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Natalie, still processing the recent confrontation with Lucas, appreciates the warmth of his touch.

The city lights illuminate the night, creating a calming ambiance within the car. The journey, though marked by the unexpected encounter, becomes a moment of reflection for both of them. The emotional rollercoaster they've been on seems to slow down, allowing them to catch their breaths.

In the dimly lit hotel room, the soft glow of the bathroom light spills into the space. Natalie takes a moment to compose herself, the echoes of the recent encounter with Lucas still lingering in her thoughts. As she emerges from the bathroom, she finds Lando sorting through their luggage.

Feeling a mixture of emotions, Natalie decides to embrace the solace of Lando's presence. Without saying a word, she walks over to him and wraps her arms around him. Lando, attuned to her unspoken feelings, reciprocates by folding his arms around her waist. In the quiet intimacy, he rests his head against her neck, offering silent support.

A moment of stillness hangs in the air before Natalie, moved by the comfort Lando provides, retracts slightly. Without a word, she pulls him closer and seals the moment with a sweet and reassuring kiss. The exchange speaks volumes, conveying a shared understanding and a connection that transcends words.

“What was that for?” Lando whispers once she pulls aways from the kiss.

“It was a thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for what you did.” She murmurs, her words carrying the weight of deep appreciation.

Lando, understanding the sentiment behind her actions, tightens his embrace and responds with another tender kiss.

“And, I’ll do it again. No questions asked.” His commitment to her safety is unwavering. “You know I love you, right?”

Natalie's heart skips a beat at Lando's unexpected confession of love. The shock registers on her face as she gazes into his eyes, trying to comprehend the depth of his feelings. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and a mix of emotions swirl within her.

In that moment, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping them in a cocoon of shared vulnerability. Natalie, caught off guard, searches Lando's eyes for sincerity and finds a sincerity that resonates deeply with her own emotions.

“You do?” She asks shyly.

“Of course, I do.” He informs her, his voice soft and low as he caresses her cheek. “How could I not?”

She presses her lips to him once more as they shuffle towards the bed. She pulls him down on top of her, her legs instinctively wrapping around him as they continue to kiss. In the intimate embrace, their lips meet in a dance of shared emotions and newfound revelations. The room, once filled with tension, transforms into a haven where unspoken feelings find expression. Lando responds to her kiss with a gentle passion, savouring the warmth of the moment.

As they continue to kiss, a sense of comfort envelops them, transcending the events of the day. The weight of recent challenges begins to lift, replaced by the tender connection they've discovered. In each other's arms, they find solace, understanding, and the promise of something deeper than the complexities of their fake relationship.

The journey from pretending to love to acknowledging true feelings has unfolded in unexpected ways, leading them to this intimate intersection. The room becomes a sanctuary for their unspoken emotions, and time seems to slow down, allowing them to savour the sweetness of the moment.

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

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld @scopeiguess @tbsloneely @secretgal66

[northlt03]

Once again trying to spread my Rosekiller RWRB agenda...

Bartemius Crouch Sr as the head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a household name, respected and feared by everyone. Everyone except his rebellious son.

Barty Crouch Jr, known for getting around and hating his father in general. Barty Crouch who grew up close with Regulus to the point they're both insanely inseparable. He's charming, he's carefree, he tries to actively make things harder for his father, the whole shebang.

In comes Evan Rosier, son of one of the wealthiest pureblood families other than the Blacks. His father is trying to get the position for Minister for Magic. Evan is as Prince Henry is in the book. Kind of lonely, kind of keeps to himself.

For reasons beyond his understanding, Barty hates him, absolutely loathes him. It's completely a one sided feud though and it all bubbles up at Narcissa and Lucius' wedding when they go sprawling in an insanely expensive cake. (For the sake of the story, lets assume the Malfoys are closely related to the Rosiers)

Cue Bartemius Crouch Sr and Rosier Sr demanding they pretend to be best friends for pr purposes.

They get pictures taken for the Daily Prophet, they have to go to St Mungos together and talk to little kids, where there's a threat so they get shoved into a broom closet and Barty reveals the real reason he never liked Evan was because of something stupid that happened in Hogwarts that made him instantly dislike him.

They kind of unpack everything, start talking a lot more. Evan has this really stupid dad joke type of humor that would be completely unfunny if it was anyone else, but Barty fucking cracks up every time.

They start sitting next to each other whenever they have to be present in the Ministry. Evan has to constantly try to keep Barty under control and entertains him with insane gossip and Barty just blurts out any impulsive thoughts he has like, "hey I should just push over a shelf in the hall of prophecies and watch all the balls fall, I think that would be fun" And Evan has to constantly deal with his ass.

Anyway, they become friends, sort of. Barty likes him because no one really looks at him the way Evan does, like there's something interesting about him. No one ever looks or tries to look at the person he is and not just his body. Hell, even his own father avoids looking at him if he can.

Evan is distant sometimes though, like he's dealing with more than he could possibly divulge. And Barty's great at distracting him, great at making him laugh, making him feel like they're the only ones in a room.

Barty always throws the best parties other than the Gryffindor graduates. For the New Years Party, he manages to convince Regulus to show up as well cause he wanted to reunite the whole Slytherin group.

Evan, surprisingly, shows up, even though he had told Barty he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it.

The party is like a ritual for Barty. He gets wasted, he kisses a girl or usually more than one (that pisses off his dad so fucking much and maybe that's the reason he keeps doing it) then he wakes up the next day hungover. It's fun for him.

It's fun when he tries to drag Evan onto the dancefloor and tries to make him laugh with bad dance moves. It's fun when Evan keeps staring at him and only him. It's fun when he slips his hands onto Evan's waist trying to get him to loosen up, try to forget the pureblood upbringing. It's fun when they're super close and Evan keeps staring at him through his eyelashes like that.

It's fun when the countdown begins and Barty tries to look for a girl to kiss. It's fun when some pretty girl slips into his arms and they chant the numbers and lock lips.

It's not fun anymore when he looks up to see Evan absolutely devastated. It's not fun anymore when he sees Evan look like he's going to throw up. It's not fun anymore when he sees Evan slip out to get fresh air.

So he follows him because that's the rational thing to do. And he finds him under a tree.

It's kind of hard to look away from Evan ever since he started looking at him. It's kind of hard to give a shit about anything else when Evan is in front of him.

Barty knows he'll never know what it's like to grow up in a pureblood family, not in the way Regulus and Evan do. So when Evan starts blabbing about what he can and can't do, its all he can do to nod along.

He tries to be supportive, he really does. But its clear he's way too drunk for it.

So when Evan calls him stupid (that's kind of become his nickname) and kisses him before pushing him away and immediately bolting, Barty's mind kind of stops working.

Evan doesn't call, doesn't send letters anymore. He's laser focused on helping his father's campaign or something equally stupid that does not work as an excuse.

Barty's thought of guys like that before, but he never thought of Evan being into guys. He's not homophobic, but he's not gay either. He's been around Regulus enough to know the terms.

He ends up confiding in Regulus about everything that happened and takes his advice.

The next time they meet, it's at the ministry.

Evan looks positively ravishing. Barty almost leaps across the room to drag him away. He knows Evan won't come willingly. He bribes and lies but he gets his way.

And it's just the two of them alone in a room again.

This time, Barty isn't stunned or hesitant. This time he kisses the way he wished he'd kissed back when Evan kissed him.

And well, it may not be a very easy road, but they make it eventually.

[straightontllmorning]

I doubt Tim or Oliver really grasp that they are disrespecting fans. For them "The fans" seem to be only the loud ones who have been telling them that Tommy should just be a stepping stone for months now. This is what makes me so angry. That they think they give the people what they want by breaking Buck and Tommy up and # let buck f*** because they can´t get themselves out of a certain bubble they pay too much attention to.

Like when will it be enough? If you want to get the Buddie route do it already and if you can´t manage to convinve a certain person to go along with it (Ryan) then just stop it already. One LI after another for 8 years now is not good TV. Breaking every relationship up the second people start to care about them is not good TV.

Yeah, I don't know what the end goal is here honestly. I understand that this is a drama and breaking characters up is typically the road the shows go down, but it made no sense with the way they built this relationship, and more specifically Tommy's character up.

It was very abrupt and didn't make sense narratively based on what we've seen of his character so far. The sad thing is that I really enjoyed this episode and I thought they ended it with the possibility to continue this storyline, but the interviews after just shut the door on it so fast. And it's so odd considering everything else that's been said in interviews.

I don't know what Tim's plan here is. And Oliver is just their pr golden boy and I don't think he was being purposefully malicious with his comments, but considering he's the one that's been pushing for this storyline (according to him) you'd think he'd be a little more careful with how he words things.

As far as buddie goes, they won't cater to people who want buddie canon but they also won't fucking kill it, which I think is cruel too. Tim's not being kind to those fans either, keeping them dangling, waiting to see if their ship becomes canon or not.

And you're right, it's a tiring thing each time a love interest is introduced and people start giving a shit only for them to be written off.

I don't know what they plan to do with Eddie and Buck, because even the whole "I'm straight" line was apparently purposeful because they don't want to go down that route even with the bucktommy break up.

But they have dug themselves in a hole with this. Either make buddie canon, fix whatever the fuck they did with tommy, or I guess introduce some random women again ( I don’t have a lot of faith that he’ll ever date a man again on the show) to both their plot lines and have that be the end.

We just keep going in circles and it's not interesting television. It's repetitive. It's boring.

[sgiandubh]

"He's actually paying those PR people? Whatever for? A drunk wombat would be better at the task." I LOL'd because my god have we been asking this very question of both Sam and Cait for years. They're PR is actually the worst. It's honestly hard to believe at times. Absolutely zero idea who either of them are trying to reach. The recalibrating after that VF disaster sent Cait into hiding, I'm not sure she's done another print interview since Belfast promo ended and if the Sam articles are going to continue on this way, he can quit too. Boring.

Dear Quit Anon,

I am flattered I managed to bring a smile or even a LOL, but I am not particularly glad about it. Unlike droves of people who think this PR shitshow is sad, I actually find it mystifying.

You are right. Goddess C went into occultation after that cursed VF interview. There are clear reasons, I think, for that. Also, please take into account the fact that, despite the illusions peddled by some fuckwits in this fandom, there are many things we simply do not know (nor should we, most probably).

As for S, I guess that ever since she went totally MIA (as I said, make-up and fash-un promo don't really compensate), he is overexposing himself. On purpose. Perhaps to protect her (I think so). Certainly to hide something. Since this is no way in hell about being gay (I will die on that hill and I know I am right), the only thing he could hide is well... I don't really need to draw it, do I?

Smoke and mirrors is always a risky strategy. S simply hasn't got what it takes to play that game long term, probably for the same reasons he was never a serious shortlist candidate for Bond. At this point in time, he'd mechanically go with whatever merde du jour is thrown by his imbecile PR on the table. Still, it's high time he'd seriously pull himself together. He can do better, as I wrote in a comment: he can do NYT and he did it very well, recently. And I was glad to see that. But Metro is just disappointing, clueless and tasteless. And it's padding up a press portfolio with amiable, meaningless bullshit that goes nowhere. Or at least nowhere near he wants to be or see himself in, let's say, five years from now.

OL is going to end. It has to. It's been both a blessing and a curse, I said that before. Then, it will be high time to end the fucking Truman Show. He (abstractly) knows that, he keeps hinting about it. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world” - for some reason, I found this phrase very telling. But I doubt he internalized what probably still feels like a safely remote occurrence, right now.

What are his real projects? For the moment, zero. Directing? I'd love to see it, but he's got no real credentials for that. Bond? I mean, publicly gushing and insisting is not going to manifest it. He needs a real movie, a good one to break that glass ceiling. Is he going to get it? I hope so. But his personal brand awareness is still low. The PR clowns should stop talking to us, in here: we are already here and not going anywhere. All of us: antis, mommies, shippers, fencers, haters, trolls. They should talk to the people who have no clue who S is, and do it differently. He should step out of his comfort zone, ditch the leeches and refuse to discuss his personal life, for a while. There, I said it.

What are her real projects? For the moment, not much. Sure, we have The Cut, where I gather her part is minimalistic, to be kind. We also have The Amateur, of which very little is known at the moment. However, if I am correct, she is not one of the leads. Enough said. And beyond that? Crickets.

Make no mistake. The real litmus test is not now. The real litmus test is 2025. And then we'll see. And I'll still be here, taking weeping Anons because I don't know who said I don't know what I don't know where. Mark me.

[foxes-that-run]

Can you please write about everything that went down with Harry, Taylor, and Kendall? Please 😊 🫶

There are quite a few decent Hendall timelines on tumblr, these are the mentions of Kendall in my timeline.

Hendall timeline

2013

20 November - Harry has dinner with Kendall Taylor tweets ""I've listened to "Hold On" by @ColbieCaillat 45 times today. So on repeat. So important." on the 21st when dinner reported.

23 November, both Harry, Taylor and Kendall at AMAs, gold dress. Kendall PDA reported by media but there is no record of it. That's a fair sign that it was PR.

25 November - Midnight Memories released

6 December - Harry leaves Kendalls hotel and they have breakfast. Lunch the next day NY. Harry is carrying notebooks and dressed that same as in the Spotify visual for Where Do Broken Hearts Go. Tabloids say not dating Kendall and he is texting Daisy Lowe.

15 December - One Direction performs Midnight Memories on Xfactor UK Final and Harry arrives at Kendalls London hotel at 2am. This is a really odd sighting because he was seen with Ed and Taylor 2 days later.

17 December - Harry, Ed and Taylor spotted together in Suffolk.

2014

2 - 4 January - Harry and Kendall go Skiing with his manager Jeff and his GF

6 January Lover Journal January 6, 2014, LA: Taylor decides to move to NY “dating is awful”. Reports KUWK producers wanted to film Harry and Kendall and Harry said no.

16 January - Harry seen at pool, then eagles concert in LA on 17th Harry puts his arm around Kendall at Eagles Concert. Kathy Griffiths said he was wasted, said that Tom hanks joked about wanting to drive Harry rehab and that he didn’t stay with Kendall inside.

25 January - Rumour Harry seen with Kendall.

2 February - Harry’s 20th birthday, he told stern in 2022 that when he was 20 he felt like every decision in his adult life had been made as a democracy till that point and felt he should make decisions. Daily Mail he spent birthday with Kendall Jenner, his cousin said he is always the dumpee.

9 February - Taylor wrote Clean written

11 February - Taylor gets haircut, Harry seen backstage. He writes Stockholm Syndrome. At this stage it seems Haylor is at least flirting and hanging out. Next think you know....

18 February - Kendall at London Fashion Week, Harry goes to Cara's show not hers, in the BUA the next week "Harry purposely didn’t go to the Topshop show or have his planned party so people wouldn’t speculate about him and Kendall,”

19 February - Harry left Brit’s after party early to return to LA

20 February - Harry arrives in LA in afternoon.

22 February - Lover Journal February 22, 2014, LA, Been in the studio with Max, Shake it off, has been in Conway Studios all week. Ariana Grande also recording album. Said that Harry "was just visiting the studio and (producers) Savan (Kotecha) and Johan (Carlsson) were like 'Hey do you wanna write a song for Ariana?' and he was like 'Oh sure!'" "He went into the other room and they were writing for a while and I remember when I heard it I was like 'Wow that's a really strong verse, that's really beautiful’ She records JALBOYH in Conway Studios, Max Martin working on both records. Harry MIA in day, then at same Miley concert, Kendall goes separately. Harry and Kendall BUA, work commitments

12, 13 March - Harry had dinner alone in LA, Kendall on date with someone else down the street. Harry’s motorbike broke down, he looked sad, guy who came to help mad. 15 March LA

[for the rest of the year Harry toured and was in the same city as Taylor a lot, 1989 came out in October.]

1 December - Harry, Kendall and Cara at British Fashion Awards in London, the day of that photo of him at top of stairs.

2015

The start 2015 is the end Haylor of sorts, Calvin appeared in March.

11 January - Harry tweets he had a "I Had a Good Morning :D Hard Work.... 'Yikes' !!". Kendall and Khloe post "Forget You "I see you driving 'round town/With the boy I love and I'm like/Forget you." Like clockwork that Haylor ends and Kendall is back.

14 January - Last time Harry and Taylor are seen at the same place till 2021 is Lily Aldridge's birthday.

17 January - Taylor shares photo of her kitchen with framed Temper Trap lyrics on her stove. Again they broke up before his birthday. :( Harry tweets that "This bucket hat might be the best purchase we've made in years." Cara and Kendall retweet that and the Cake? Rumour they bought a hat. H played golf the next day.

22 January - Harry went for yogurt, Nadine Leopold in his car

1 February - Harry’s 21st birthday party, everyone is fabulous with Gigi, Kendall, Cara there Harry Styles turns 21 with the A-list No mention of Taylor or Lily Aldridge, although Harry had been at Lily’s birthday 2 weeks earlier.

27 June - Taylor London show w/Kendall, Gigi, Serena, KK, Martha, Cara. 1D in Helsinki.

13 October - Kendall and Cara seen dancing at a One Direction concert.

28 November - Rumour Harry with Kendall at golf club.

31 December - actual last 1D performance Dick Clark's Rockin New Years TV Special, their performance was pretaped. The Out of the Woods music video premiered on the same show. Harry seen in Yacht with Kendall.

2016

1 January Yachtgate, but they seemingly broke up immediately after if they were dating. Before this they had started the year with Yachtgate, then there was gossip that the Harry didn’t want to be in KUWTK. So Hendall ended sometime between 6 - 21 January 2016.

21 January - Harry had a birthday party in London on the 21st where a stylist slept over at his house and I think that was the end of hendall if it was not already over. Kendall flew from LA to Paris the same day, so could have been there but didn't.

23 January - They were both at Jeff’s birthday on 23 January, but arrived and left separately, the Bonne Nuit is probably also a reference to her returning from Paris (and not going to his birthday in London) Kendall is wearing a Big o' Fur (Pop tart??) and leaves alone.

24 January - Harry had a birthday party in LA and Kendall not mentioned. Then she disappears for months.

8 April - Harry seen shopping with Kid Harpoon and Kendall, “watch KUWK May 1

13 July - taylorswiftisoverparty hashtag trending

17 July - Kim K posts that she has a recording of Snake convo.

21 July - Kendall posts "tea time" with photo Taylor later copies in LAWYMMD video. Also likes anti-swift posts.

2 September - Kendall and Harry at Nobu in LA, Dunkirk wraps. Harry not seen for another 15 days after.

5 September - Harry has dinner with Kendall then disappears. Could have been when he first went to Jamaica.

3 November - Harry seen back in LA at Kendall birthday and concert next day. Photo of Harry in red Jacket looking at his phone while Kendall makes out with someone else and then she isn't seen till she attends a few concerts over the next few years.

2017

She is not at his birthday, they date other people, he releases HS1

4 July - Karlie Kloss posts a photo with Kendall in Paris, the internet realises KK is not in Taylor Swifts squad.

14 July - Kendall came to Harry's show

27 August - LAWYMMD video, Kendall tea time reenactment

2018

No Hendall content

2019

7 May - Harry hosts his only met gala attendance, Taylor’s doesn’t go anymore. Adore you and Lights up written in May. Harry and Kendall have after party and both leave at 6am and both stayed at the Bowery hotel. Jeff and Xander also there.

11 December - Kendall and Harry on Spill your guts

2020

18 February - Harry at Brit awards, went to same after party as Kendall

2 April - Harry seen riding a motorcycle beside Kendall Jenner and Fai Khadra.

2021

no Hendall content

2022

15 April - Kendall watches Harry at Coachella

14 November - Kendall at Love on Tour, no setlist change.

2023

no Hendall content

2024

20 October - Joe Alwyn pictured with Kendall Jenner at awards dinner, Patrick S also there. Internet clowns.

[mesaprotector]

Clarity trumps efficiency.

*I would've liked to write this essay to be understandable for someone without a programming/Linux background, but it was a bit too difficult. If you skip to the paragraph beginning with "...", it gets a bit easier from then on.

If you’ve ever written your own shell scripts you may have heard of the phrase “useless use of cat*”, or less tactfully, “cat abuse”. This refers to the practice, common among new shell script enthusiasts, of writing commands like “cat file.txt | grep name”, when “grep name file.txt” would serve perfectly well. Tools like shellcheck will bug you about it—along with similar constructions like “ps ax | grep Discord | wc -l” instead of “pgrep -c Discord”.

Well, I’m here to defend cat abuse! There are two arguments I see against the cat | grep construction, one of which is valid but situational, and the other of which is completely invalid. The former is that the extra pipe just adds additional overhead into the command. Yes, it does. And it’s unlikely to matter at all if you’re using it on 20KiB text files on a system built in the past 40 years; however, in production, when writing tools that need to be able to deal with arbitrarily large text files as efficiently as possible, sure.

The latter is “well, it’s just unnecessary”. I disagree. I think the cat | grep construction—along with similar such as grep | wc, ps | grep, ps | awk, and so on—serves a very important purpose in that it makes shell scripts easier to read, easier to modify, and easier to debug.

Consider this example from above:

ps ax | grep Discord | wc -l

Read the process table; filter for "Discord"; count the number of lines. It’s very atomic. Each operation can be swapped out for something else without confusing the reader. On the other hand:

pgrep -c Discord

Now, this does the same thing—counting the number of lines in the process table with "Discord" in them. It looks like only one operation... but it’s really still three in disguise. And worse, imagine you suddenly want to add another filter; sorting not only by Discord, but by processes that include the word “title”. This is not straightforward at all! It turns out that while regex has a standard way of searching for alternatives, it really does not provide an easy method for searching for BOTH of two words. On the other hand, with the atomic version, it’s easy:

ps ax | grep Discord | grep title | wc -l

Take that, “useless” use of cat.

There’s a broader meaning, though, to my statement of “clarity trumps efficiency”. I apply it to every aspect of use of electronics, from web searches to backup routines to yes, silly little shell scripts that use cat.

I use command aliases, but to a pretty limited degree; I avoid cutesy stuff like “ll” for “ls -l” and “yeet” for “pacman -Rns”, along with possibly-dangerous substitutions like “rm” for “rm -i”; I’d never dream of aliasing “nano” or “vi” to my preferred text editor (vim). I believe strongly that my commands should be transparent, and saving me from my own muscle memory once or twice is not worth making them completely opaque.

Tab completion on the other hand is one of my favorite features in the shell. It’s the perfect combination of transparent and convenient; without having to alias any of my application names or get hit by the information overload fuzzy finding gives you, I can still launch any of them in no more than four keystrokes. (Except audacious and audacity, admittedly.)

I use a floating window manager (Openbox), and when I need to briefly use a tiling layout, I have a very boring way of doing so: focusing each window one by one and moving it into the slot I want. (While holding down the Super/Windows key, 1-C-2-V does a basic left-right split.)

... I make some use of spellcheck on assignments to be turned in, but never autocorrect, which I abhor even in messaging apps. Every change to your inputs should be deliberate; otherwise you’ll never learn what you’re doing wrong, and you’ll never need to be precise because you’ve turned over that part of your brain to the algorithm.

This leads me to an important corollary of my principle: “it’s better to have a slow algorithm that you understand, than a fast one that you don’t”.

Satya Nadella’s vision of the PC of the future is one where you tell it what to do in natural language and it interprets that using LLMs and so on into machine instructions. Instead of viewing a PC as a toolbox you go into the workshop with, and work on projects with in certain defined ways, he wants the PC to be an assistant; you give the assistant directions and pray that it gets things right. Of course you aren’t allowed into the workshop with the tools anymore; that’s the assistant’s job!

Anyone who’s used Google Search over the past ten years knows how miserable this model is; you search for a specific phrase that Google “helpfully” corrects to something it thinks you meant. There was a learning curve to the old way, but once you learned how to state queries precisely, you were done; now you need to play psychologist, sociologist, and statistician all at once.

This is a decent part of why I dislike generative AI, though far from the main reason. I don’t want an opaque algorithm making decisions for me, unless those decisions are incredibly low-level stuff like core parking that no human should be directly involved with in the first place.

To get back to my own setup, I have a whole text file documenting the system maintenance process I go through once every month; most of it could be automated, but I make every step a deliberate choice. Not to go all new-age, but for me specifically—it all ties back in to mindfulness.

I think people have only a vague concept of what mindfulness is. Until two years ago or so, I was the same way. But to who I am now, mindfulness means not doing anything on autopilot. Instead of letting yourself half-doze off on a drive home, scarcely remembering the 20 minutes from the parking lot to the garage, be conscious of every turn. Instead of immediately putting on music and blocking out the world on a train ride to the next city, force yourself to be present in the train car, and notice the way the light reflects on the plastic seat two rows in front.

And to me, clarity in code, and in UX, is a part of this mindfulness. Programs that are easy to read, easy to modify, and easy to debug encourage you to look closer—to consider every atom that goes into their statements instead of taking them for granted. Slow algorithms that you understand can help you think of improvements; fast algorithms that you don’t encourage you to give up and leave the real thinking to someone else.

So write silly little shell scripts with five pipes in a single statement, and yes, that uselessly use cat. Rather than doing anything wrong—you’re allowing yourself and others to think, to try, and to improve.

[spidereggs888]

Miguel’s new secretary ooh-la-la

(lol /j 💀)

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

This is a loooong read so make sure you have time or something. Also, there’s an illustration in the middle of the chapter! Enjoy

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

MIGUEL & YOU

ACT 1 | ALGORITHMIC LOTTERY

It's the year 2110.

You are maneuvering through traffic in a sputtery fashion, the lifter problem in your engine getting so bad it almost sounds like you got rocks under the hood. The podcast is going on about alligators in Nueva York sewers.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” you mumble, “there’s CROCODILES in the sewers, not alligators.”

You aren’t looking forward to this interview. How the heck did you manage an audition for office secretary to the CEO of Alchemax?!

“I don’t know,” you say aloud to your other self, “but if I get the job, Imma upgrade to a better ride than this heap of Maglev shit…”

But there’s other bitches who want this position. Two of them you are aware of: Syd and Brody. Syd is a real suck up who will say any damn thing to get the position. She out-groveled you and got the lead PR accounting job you wanted. Suck-up Syd is what you call her around your friends. Brody on the other hand is opposite; he thinks he can strong-arm his way into anything and he pretty much has. He’s kicked people down, screwed people over, and there’s a rumor he filed a sexual harassment charge on his friend Ashton just to get the promotion before Ashton could.

These two skanks are gonna be tricky, but that’s the least of why you loathe this whole thing. You also heard that Miguel O’Hara is a hard ass. When he came into power a few years ago, he immediately fired the former secretary for talking about his father in a positive light. Then he proceeded to chew and spit out people who ever had the misfortune of being in that job position.

“Or maybe they just cut their losses after raking in half a billion,” your friend Speshall guessed the last time you seen her, “they prolly couldn’t take the heat for that long so they waited until they were set for life then said something stupid on purpose to get him to let them go. What a retirement plan! To work for the sexiest man of the year then have him berate you on your way out!”

She was always like this.

Anyway, now your car is not being validated in the automated parking center.

“What the HELL?!”

“Sorry, your credit has been declined.”

“Oh fuck me-“

You fumble your lanyard of data sticks. You are looking for the green one, which has a small amount of credit you procured from test playing phone games. You lean out of your car window to bring the green stick drive near the wireless reader.

“Sorry, we cannot accept credit from online gambling. Please use another method of payment.”

“Oh fuck you!”

≋ ≋ ≋ ≋

Now you are walking. You had to park where they don’t give a shit about where your money is from. Alchemax is trying to create a good precedent by not accepting dirty money, but Alchemax, as far as you know, does dirtier stuff for pay. Why the hell is “gambling money” any different?!

Scowling so hard, you almost didn’t notice there’s some douchebag trying to walk close behind you. He probably saw the lanyard of data sticks around your neck, so you fluff your scarf around until they are covered.

“I don’t have any money, muh guy” you say in your heaviest Nueva York accent along with this generations lingo.

“Oh I’m not afta you. I was tryna tell ya there’s this otha weirdo following ya. I’m tryna group up here.”

You know better than to look back. That’s what this fucko wants you to do. He’s probably a flasher, so you walk into traffic.

“Hey that’s dangerous, yo!”

You don’t listen. Cars flying past is not as scary as going up to see the freakin CEO of Alchemax.

No cars hit you, so now you have to face reality. You walk into the Alchemax Business Bureau building (one of hundreds), and wave your ID at the receptionist in the lobby. The receptionist is preoccupied with a lady who has one hand on her hip and the other holding out a holo watch. It’s projecting a screen with a giant hourglass animation flipping over and over.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard to get a damn cup of coffee around here, I just don’t!”

“C’mon it’s not necessary to bring security here, ma’am.”

He remains standing behind his desk and grimaces at you. You really need to get him to validate your ID so you won’t be stopped by security, so you pull up your phone and say to the woman, “you want some coffee coupons for Dunkin Donuts?”

“What?”

You open your savings app and hastily air-swipe several coupons to her holo device like someone flicking bills at a stripper. She stops to look at them.

“A regular frap for half off? Oh woooow, how- will they really honor this?” She asks.

“Yeah! It’s good for two more days, so you may wanna hurry over to the kiosk at the west end.”

“Really?”

“They sell all brands of coffee, they’ll honor it.”

“Well, nevermind, then,” she says curtly to the receptionist as she turns her shoulder away, “Didn’t want hours-old coffee anyway.”

She turns on her fancy heel and trots away. You grin stupidly at the receptionist who rolls his eyes and snatches your ID card from you. He swipes it near his card reader then flicks it back without a word.

After a nod, you swiftly leave down the lobby to the elevator area. You round the corner and see an open elevator closing. It's the only one since the other two are under construction. You rush forward as fast as your legs will allow.

"Wait wait WAIT WAIT!"

The doors are closing and you see the face of Suck-up Syd with her smoky eyes and faux fur capelet. She smiles and does nothing as the doors close.

"Shocking typical," you grumble. But you know where the other elevator is. You take off to the other end of the building for the second set of elevators.

You make it onto the elevator with two other people, some white chick and an Indian dude. The lady sees your pass.

"Going for the secretary job?" She asks.

"Yeah."

“Me too. If I don’t get this, I’m going to jump from this building,” the lady jokes.

“If I get this, I WILL jump from this building,” you add.

“Either way, it's gonna be job security for the custodian department,” the Indian guy says. All three of you chuckle politely.

The elevator lets more people in. You check your phone. You are fucking late by 20 minutes, but so is the lady who wants this job or else. You assume it would have taken a while anyway, since there was about 15 people going in for this very same job. Could it be you?! Could you land this job?! What if your mom was wrong?! And what if O’Hara says yes? What if you are set for life?

The final floor of this elevator is reached. You wobble on your way out. The lady doesn’t move.

“Actually, I can’t do this. I’m going home.”

The elevator doors close and she goes back down. You hear a faint byeeeeeeeeeee as the elevator descends to lower levels. You pay no heed and follow the Indian man into the massive hall.

There’s already chaos. One guy is being escorted out of the lobby by his shirt collar, and he's spouting obscenities. Some lady had dropped all her paperwork and she’s too numb to pick it up again. Two ladies near her are sarcastically wishing each other luck, one of them is Suck-up Syd. She looks 10x more desperate today with her tight-fitting outfit and belt buckle the size of a plate. Her overly fake smile gives you no esteem or hope. You almost sit but realize there’s barf on the chair.

Okay, surely everyone is overreacting in here.

“Man I’m not scared at all. There’s a trick to facing down Alpha males,” says a guy who you didn’t ask.

“Ah, cool.” you say through a grin. It’s Brody. You don’t even have to see him to know he’s there with his overwhelming presence of snobbery.

“See, as a Sigma male,” he continues, leaning on the back of the barf chair to talk to you, “I don’t adhere to the Alpha’s orders. That’s how the pack survives! One guy is an outlier so like if the Alpha fails in his role as leader, the Sigma will show by example and the rest of the females and Betas will follow him-“

“BRODY!”

You and Brody see Ashton in the doorway you came from. Ashton beelines across the room with his briefcase raised high. He brings it down on Brody with a loud clunk and they grapple and exchange blows. You go ahead and sit down perfectly still.

"Oh my GOD!" Suck-up Syd muses. She only sees this as two less competitors. You wince as the men start yelling obscenities at each other in their struggle. The guards who took out the last guy come back in and see this happening and they both huff angrily.

"Next!"

"Ah, that's me!" Syd says, “you guys are welcome to leave, I probably got this in the bag.”

She gets up and thrusts her capelet onto the lobby assistant.

.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳ ˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.

Four hours pass. Brody and Ashton were escorted from the building, those bozos didn’t even get an interview, but it was funny watching Brody get dragged down to hell by a demon he wronged.

Suck-up Syd walked out in tears and a forced smile. You felt bad for making fun of her in the past. She’s just kinda desperate and a little pathetic. You assume groveling doesn't work on the boss.

Other people came and went swiftly. The cheerful Indian man from earlier left looking surprised at his failure. The lady who dropped all her crap earlier apparently already had an interview and was reeling from her bad luck. You understand their disappointment since being chosen for this position was like winning the lottery, except you don't know if you won or not.

“Next!”

Your stomach twists but you refuse to be like them. This is just a job. You’ll be answering phones, emails, and possibly even mailing some dry cleaning. No big fuckin deal.

You thank the lobby assistant but she ignores you and walks away. She is just doing her job. She looks very tired of everyone else’s shit and is probably glad it's over. You walk to the elevator where the second to last person is taking baby-steps, talking on his phone with someone nursing his wounded pride. That could be you in a minute.

I'm probably not gonna get it either, you think, but I'm going down with some dignity.

You work yourself up as you step into yet another elevator, this one glass paneled. You stare across Nueva York as you ascend, contemplating your future. So what if you don't make it? You will simply fall back to your job and go about your life. Your mom will say she's right about the invitation being a fluke. You will go back to paying off debts and supplementing your food budget by testing mobile phone games during work hours and before you go to sleep. You see your own reflection, no longer as young as you used to be, and you sigh.

The glass doors open behind you. You walk through another set of foggy glass doors. Despite your self pep talk, you are still not looking forward to this. You've seen pictures of Miguel O'Hara before; over 6 feet tall, wide shoulders that could support an ox yoke, and a presence so large one would think he could go toe to toe with Godzilla. How will the interview go? You imagine fire. You expect a demon sitting behind a black marble desk in the darkness, a horrendous mob boss wearing Scarface attire, spitting fiery facts and passing cruel judgment, his horns ascending at the heavens with searing indifference and contempt for mercy. You expect a fax machine in the corner that will print out your death.

This is not what you see.

There he is, in this meager temp office sitting behind a tiny desk covered in empty water bottles. His shoulders are wider than the desk, but he's scrunching them in to seem normal. He's wearing a regular dress shirt, no tie. No fancy jewelry either, just some off-brand oversized watch on his left wrist. He looks disappointed already, but not at you. He’s squinting down at some of the tiny desks’ interactive holo-projections. You see your name on one of the files he’s peering at through comically large anti glare glasses.

You don’t sit. You are too stressed. He hasn’t noticed you. He picks up one of the water bottles and carefully opens it with his monster hands. They look travel-sized compared to him. He sips it and notices you.

“Hello!” You greet.

He finishes it in two gulps and sets it down slowly, as to not disturb the other bottles.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time left, so let’s cut through here… you work for the guys in the PR department-“

“Ah yeah, they are a very friendly bunch down there! That is until you get to know them!” You blurt out. He looks up at you with tired eyes and swipes through the files without looking at them.

“Says here you were demoted from vice head PR accounting a while back, but you attached a note saying you have an alibi? Let’s hear it.”

“Uhhh.”

“C’mon I don’t have all day.”

“There was a payment discrepancy, uh, I was given a raise but I noticed my boss didn’t update it for a whole month. He was on vacation and wasn't answering my calls, so... since he left the finances to me I updated it myself… And I got into trouble BUT it was technically not embezzlement, so I was given an ultimatum to either move to a lower department or get fired, so-“

“Self-reliant. Got it. There's a note from your current department head saying she's been notified anonymously that you've been paying for Alchemax home services with gambling money, what do you have to say about that?"

"I- that is a th- thing with SoloGameMedia, ah, they are a parent company to a gambling franchise, therefore every transaction from them is registered as gambling profit- but I test games with- from them directly! It's a side hustle- thing, I- that, I DO NOT playtest games during work hours! Only on-"

"Why do you think I should hire you?”

You are caught off guard by the most basic interview question.

“Hhhhhh WELL… because you need a secretary now?”

He’s already looking back down at the files again. You can see NYPD files, apparently he’s now looking at your small criminal record. You also notice his shirt is unbuttoned on the top. For curiosity's sake, you discreetly raise up on your toes to see down his cleavage. It's deeper than you expected. One mighty flex and that shirt will send buttons flying everywhere. He looks back up as you quickly drop back down on your heels.

“Yeah. Mmm. Ok. So you are way in over your head in college and credit debt, you have been gambling as a means to get by- really don’t care about that, and you did not dispute your boss's ultimatum when you had the chance."

"Wait, what?"

"Four years ago, when your boss gave you the ultimatum to get demoted or get fired. His proposal was ILLEGAL."

Your gut twists.

"That- that was illegal?!"

"You had six months to report him and you didn't. Why?"

"Be- because I just thought he was being fair, I-"

"I'm sorry, but you got screwed."

He looks sincere behind those nerdy lenses with his pout lips. You really want to throw something right now.

“I… oh…”

"Look, the most I can do is re-open your case," he says as he pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge, "You might get a small settlement out of it, but even that isn't guaranteed."

"So... I'm not getting the job?"

"How do you expect to get hired with such an unexceptional history of white collar crime and a meek attitude that's gotten you nowhere? Hey Lyla? Is this all we have?”

An AI assistant pops up from the interactive desk.

“This is the last one, sir.”

“Okay, cool. Look I’m sure you’re actually great at your job, but I have places to be-“

“Wha- well so do I!”

“Uh huh, nice talking to you,“ he scoots his chair back and hits his knee on the tiny desk, sending empty bottles scattering all over the room. He cringes.

“Well if I’m so unexceptional, why was I accepted for an interview?!”

“I’m gonna guess because of some algorithmic lottery? Probably to do with the amount of experience you have in your department, I dunno,” He guesses as he attempts to gather the bottles by sweeping them under the desk with his shoes, “If you wanna blame someone for the short interview time, thank those other time-wasters who came before you. I gotta go.”

“Now WAIT a… minute”

He stands up from his tiny desk as you say that. He’s towering over you with a tired expression and loose strands of hair about his face.

“What?” He asks, all friendliness gone.

“Can we continue this interview at a different time? You obviously haven’t found a secretary you want, but you still need one, right?! I could be the one you need even if I’m not the one you want!”

It takes every inch of your being to not slap yourself on the forehead. He is scrunching his nose, squinting down at you with mild contempt. You get a good look at his sharp, broad temples and cheekbones, complete with a hardened jaw. His thick dark lips are pulled to one side in annoyance and are accentuated with a pair of jowls that look poised to bite at any time like some kind of deep sea angler fish. His eyes are very dark. They almost look red…

His expression goes blank as he sighs.

“Okay.”

“Great! Ah, when?!”

“Tomorrow, same time.”

“Grabsolutely- Great- fantastic! I won’t let you down!”

“Uh huh.”

He leaves. You assume you should leave too. You awkwardly follow him. He grabs his coat off a nearby chair, and you get a brief display of his amazing body shape as he flips the coat over his shoulders. You avert your attention to the floor, already feeling disrespectful after having looked down his shirt. Now you are both in the elevator. You are doing all in your power not to pass out over your small lucky break.

O’Hara pretends you aren’t there as he looks at his phone and chats with his AI assistant.

“Lyla, push the evening meeting to tomorrow as well, except an hour earlier.”

“Roger that!”

“I need coffee.”

“Roger that also!”

“Please, PLEASE tell them to not add cream. I really hate when they do that.”

You wanna ask him if he’s lactose intolerant but you already pushed your luck today.

Apparently he is exiting the building in the same way you are going, but he's booking it with long ass strides and it's difficult to keep up. You both end up on the same elevator again, this time with other people. He awkwardly acknowledges you with a blank smirk and brow raise, then promptly looks back down at his phone. Everyone else is trying not to bother him.

"Hello, Mister O'Hara, I didn't realize you were here! Hi!" says a lady who is shooting her shot at a social connection (she totally knew he was there.)

"Ah, hey. Miss...?"

"Stacy Brian! We met at the Student Festival earlier this year."

"Oh, right, right! Miss Brian, how are you?"

"Doing well! I didn’t know you wore glasses!"

"Oh- I totally forgot these were on my face," he admits while taking them off and trying to find a place to stash them, "I actually don’t wear glasses, it's- um, I have issues with bright computer screens."

You discreetly watch him in the elevator wall reflection as he quickly swaps the lenses out for a pair of red sunglasses. The elevator doors open and everyone flows out into the foyer. You realize you never got his card.

"Hey one more thing, sir!" You call out to him.

"What?"

"I don't have your number! What if we need to reschedule?!"

"Ah, right. Get your phone out, please."

He turns back around and searches for something on his phone. With a swift flick of his hand, he air drops his ID and number to your device.

"Thank you!"

"¡De nada!"

He swiftly leaves through the front doors and trots down the steps. You watch this huge marvel of nature hail a cab. The automated transporter car is so small that he has to bring his shoulders in tight to fit through the doorway. This seems to have more to do with him not wanting to snag his nice jacket.

A man of this position and wealth... hailing a cab? Must be in THAT much of a hurry. You look down at the data he sent you. His ID photo looks like they took his picture after pulling an all-nighter, and his half-hearted smile reveals his crooked teeth. But somehow he still looks great in an unconventional way.

•°《💀》°•

You drive home, feeling both anxious and also deflated. Miguel O'Hara was a mixed bag of what you expected. Speshall hyped him up as a sexy hunk of the year and Brody felt so intimidated that he went on an unwarranted Alpha Male rant, but the guy was so awkward with his tiny desk and water bottles and weird glasses, and he was whining to his AI helper about his coffee. He’s a large… finicky… lactose-intolerant nerd, but he's also got the moxy to move mountains. What’s more, now ya gotta think of what to say to him in the next interview. What could be expected of a guy like that? What if he cancels the meeting and your chance is lost forever?

Your car makes it home and you sit in it for a moment. Speshall left you a text asking about the interview.

Went weird, you text back.

"Welcome back, tenant 27," the AI apartment valet greets.

You open your car door and notice you've been parked over the grates again. You remember when you last dropped your phone in this spot, the fucking thing went right in between the grate holes and you couldn’t get it back for a week. You have the presence of mind to upload the latest bit of information (O'Hara's phone number) to your data cloud.

You walk through the parking garage. You know all the safe routes. It didn’t matter who you were, Nueva York was never safe at night.

You hear footsteps to your left but it’s just a couple of people walking together, a man and woman trying to huddle. The garage opening is just ahead. You go ahead and march out, not looking back.

You step out into the warm breeze of middle-class Nueva York. The wind is artificial, billowing from the hydro-electric plants that keeps this city running. It took you forever to get here, a lot of cheap-skating, white lies, and debt piling to maintain this life, but you are here! Unapologetic holo screens buzz near you as you walk, begging you to spend money as they light up the way to your apartment. There's no point in tapping their "no" buttons since that just wastes your time. The screens showcased brand-new cars, beautiful clothes, and radiant health. If you had more money, at least some of that could be yours. You hate that people roll around in all the wonderful things this world has to offer while you have to make do with decade old clothing and over-processed food. Where the hell is everyone getting it all from? When the hell will you get yours?

“Hey! Wanna buy a shared data cloud?!”

You are now being bothered by a salesman. You say nothing and keep walking. Even saying no opens more dialogue. He gives up but another comes at you.

“Wanna be a part of the elite task force that edits any and all articles about Thor?! It’s a paying job! $100 an hour!”

As dystopian as it sounds, $100 an hour won’t get you far in Nueva York, not in this era of quadrillionaires.

“Hey, I saw ya on da street earlier! Ya walked into traffic!”

You accidentally glance over at the familiar voice talking about the familiar subject. He’s got you. Your eyes are fixated on a creepypasta face, his irises flashing in a hypnotic pattern. This was way worse than the idea of the guy being just a flasher.

He’s a black market demon. The worst street hawker known to man.

You can’t remember much else besides him taking you by the hand and leading you away.

_________________________________________

Next: ACT 2 | BLACK MARKET DEMONS

[lady-byleth]

So Israel, in its absolutely ludicrous arrogance, has now managed to:

Get Pakistan and Iran, who attack each other, to somehow...burying the hatchet cuz FUCK ISRAEL I guess??

Piss off the Houthis

Bring in the West and piss off the whole of Yemen MORE

Piss off the Yemeni so much the various government parties and civilians ALSO bury the hatchet cuz FUCK ISRAEL

Bomb Libanon

Piss off Hezbollah

Get Hezbollah chomping at the bit for any excuse to reenact 2006 because FUCK ISRAEL

Teach the world through research into Hezbollah that Israel LOVES the human shields excuse (its your choice to kill them anyway, habibi)

Bomb Syria

Bring in the Iraqi resistance that promptly attacks Haifa and disables the airport because FUCK ISRAEL

Piss off the Saudis who block the airspace to anyone trying to deliver weaponry

Piss off every goddamn civilian in the area because FUCK ISRAEL is apparently a very common sentiment

Give Hamas TONS of good press through dozens of easily seen through lies

Raise support for Palestine MORE through said lies

Turn the whole civilian world against them

Fuck up their own economy

Divide the Jewish into two distinct factions like never before

Expose the corruption and depravity in the world governments for all to see

Make people aware of media bias against Arabic and North African people

Put Islam into a favorable light for the first time in decades because the world actually learns about it now despite Hollywood's best efforts

Improve everyone's legal knowledge cuz we're all following the court proceedings

Improve everyone's understanding of how to get reliable information and spot propaganda

Educate the world about Apartheid

Educate the world about Nelson Mandela specifically

Boost Palestinian solidarity AGAIN because even Nelson Mandela said FUCK ISRAEL

Make FUCK ISRAEL the most common stance on them

Improve understanding of Antisemitism through constantly using it as a defense and annoying people into not being antisemitic in the first place (from what I've seen anyway)

Humiliate Germany on a global level (which I am quite pleased with as a German)

Unite and mobilise people like never before

And all that by being so fucking shitty at military, human rights and PR that no one can deny it unless they're literally doing it on purpose

I don't remember the world ever agreeing so wholeheartedly on something as they agree on FUCK ISRAEL and, more importantly,

From the River to the Sea Palestine will be Free