#i am Very Much Interested in street racing last year

[butteronabun]

ghsshjdjdjdjsjsjhs street racer!diluc……. thinking many thoughts rn hhhh… he’s so hot 😍🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 and so sexy… anyone interested in a fic where racer diluc has tension with the reader sgdjhdjd 🫣

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi! Could you do a Batfam x teen reader, where the reader does illegal street race, he sneaks out at night to go those race, and the Batfam found out about it !

Thank you ;)

I sure can do!

Summary: (Y/N) races illegally. The family doesn't know.

Warnings: illegal racing, (Y/N) is skilled, Bruce is mad, Jason is impressed, Damian is proud, Bruce is just done,

(Y/N) loved his dad and he often shared his interests with him. He also shared everything with his brothers. But he was harboring a secret that he couldn't tell anyone. He loved cars, which was not a secret to his family.

What was the secret?

(Y/N) raced illegally. Bruce knew that (Y/N) loved cars, but what he didn't know is that (Y/N) knew how to drive. Bruce had plans to get (Y/N) his license when he turned 18 years old, but when he was so young?

Not happening, at least in Bruce's eyes.

However, (Y/N) had an important night tonight. Last time he was on the track, a cocky bastard thought that he was better than him. (Y/N) gladly excepted.

If there was one thing that Bruce has taught him that he uses everyday, it's the fact that you should fear a person who doesn't brag about his skills. You can easily beat someone who brags. But the one who is silent?

Yeah, that will be a much more difficult task. H

Now he had to make a plan on how to sneak out. He had to wait until they went on patrol and until Alfred went down to the cave to make sure that nobody sees him.

He took his phone and looked into the hall. Alfred went into Bruce's office a few minutes prior, so he must be halfway down. (Y/N) took the opportunity to quietly walk to the garage. He tapped his pocket for the car key, checking to see if his favorite car key was in there.

That car is his baby and he would be damned if he didn't use his favorite. Bruce bought him this car last year and (Y/N) took great care of it. He cleaned it, washed it and took it outside to drive, but only in the property boundaries.

Now it was time to beat that shit head.

(Y/N) sighed in relief as he parked the car. He walked through the crowds, just enjoying the energy. It was just free, no stress, but it was also buzzing with excitement. Usually there were friendly races and talks about upgrades on your cars.

Tonight, it was a race with (Y/N) and the shit head who challenged him. (Y/N) still remembers how he first started. Everyone was nervous to have a Wayne kid, thinking that he wanted to get on the top with a snap of his fingers.

But (Y/N) kept his head down, was humble and respectful towards everyone and he showed his skills to everyone and he proved himself. He became very well liked and he made a good friend here, named Aaron.

" Hey (Y/N)! " Aaron said loudly to drown out the chatter of the other people. " Are you ready for the race? " He asked, smirking as (Y/N) pushed him away.

" Of course I am. " (Y/N) answered, accepting a water bottle from Aaron.

" I still can't believe somebody is so stupid. " Aaron mused to himself, shaking his head. (Y/N) is the best racer here and the fact that somebody new is so dense to think that he could beat him so stupid. Of course, (Y/N) is not invincible and unbeatable, but new people are often warned that (Y/N) is the best racer here.

But that doesn't stop people from challenging him. (Y/N) never hated being challenged, in fact, he loved it. No matter who it was, (Y/N) liked the challenge. Only if they aren't cocky and obnoxious about their skills.

The shit head is obnoxious beyond belief and there was nothing that could change (Y/N)'s mind. Absolutely nothing.

" Did you check the car? " Aaron said as they turned back to walk back to the car.

" I did. Yesterday, I didn't have a chance to do it today. I can't let my dad know what I'm doing. " (Y/N) confessed to Aaron who nodded in sympathy.

Aaron and (Y/N) are good friends and (Y/N) confided that this secret was a big burden on him. He didn't tell him about their night jobs of course, but he did tell Aaron that his dad has a very set moral standing. Of course, nothing is black and gray, but he would be mad if he found out.

" I know, but lets check it now. John should be somewhere near by to check it. "

John is (Y/N)'s mechanic and his mentor in a way. He took (Y/N) under his wing when he has first arrived here. John loves his job more than anything and has admitted that he sees (Y/N) as a son. The two had a very strong bond and they both cared about each other.

" Hey son. " John said, looking at the car. (Y/N) said hey back and gave him a quick side hug.

" How is the car looking? " Aaron asked, walking up to the duo.

" She looks good. Very well taken care of. Good job. " John praised, popping the hood open. (Y/N) smiled to himself, happy that his mentor was pleased.

" The engine looks good. I want you to wipe the floor with that shit head. " John said, closing the hood down.

" Yup. I heard him bragging. " Aaron said, groaning after seeing the shit head move through the crowd towards them. " And he is coming here. " Aaron said and John frowned at the shit head.

" Here is the famous Wayne. " He said, getting into (Y/N)'s face.

" Yup. I would suggest that you step away from me. " (Y/N) said, raising his chin. He level him with a bat glare that Bruce taught him. The shit head stepped back. " Now, if you are here to brag about your non existent skills, go back to wherever you crawled out of. " (Y/N) said and the shit head huffed.

" Go back to your car and get ready. " Aaron said, leading (Y/N) to sit in the car. The shit head moved, his groupie following him.

" If you don't wipe the floor with him, you are going to be in trouble. " John threatened (Y/N), glaring at the stupid kid who was walking away to his car.

" I will wipe the floor with him. " (Y/N) confirmed.

" Good. " Aaron muttered, shaking his head.

(Y/N) laughed as he stopped the car. He won by a landslide and he proves why he is so good. He got out of the car and hugged Aaron tightly.

" You did it! Ha! Take that you ass! " Aaron yelled at the shit head who walked off.

John congratulated (Y/N), giving him a hug. There was cheering and clapping and (Y/N) smiled. This felt nice. This is what he loved about this place.

" I knew you would do it. " John said, patting his back.

Everything felt nice.

" The police is here! "

Now that is not nice. Everyone scrambled to run away, but (Y/N) froze as he heard a familiar rumble of the Batmobile. Oh dear God no. Shit. Hell no. Not happening. Nope. This is not good.

" (Y/N) we have to go. " Aaron said, pulling him with him.

" Leave me. I will hold them off. " (Y/N) said, shaking his head. Aaron and John looked conflicted, but nodded when they saw the look in his eyes.

Turns out it wasn't the police, just Batman and the rest of the family. (Y/N) took a deep breath as he watched the Batmobile come to a stop. At the moment, (Y/N) was scared.

What were they going to say?

His dad stepped out of the car, in his suit, Batman persona on.

" Hey dad. " (Y/N) said sheepishly.

" Please don't tell me you are racing illegally. " He said and (Y/N) looked away.

" Oh no. " Bruce said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

" Do you at least win? " Jason asked as he walked up to (Y/N)'s car.

" I do. " (Y/N) said, eyes still locked on the ground.

" That's my brother. " Jason smiled underneath his mask.

" Good. You would be a disgrace to the family otherwise. " Damian piped in out of nowhere.

Dick sighed, shaking his head. " (Y/N), that is very dangerous. "

" And what you lot do isn't? " (Y/N) retorted, finally finding some strength to talk back.

" And what do you think Tim? " (Y/N) asked. He just looked at the car, then back at (Y/N).

" I mean, you really aren't hurting anybody. You are smart and you know how to avoid trouble. You know how to not get hurt. " Tim explained and Bruce sighed.

" Okay. We are going to have a talk after we all sleep. I'm going to say something that I will regret later. (Y/N) in the Batmobile, Dick you are driving his car. "

(Y/N) wanted to protest, but was silenced with a glare from his father. He sighed quietly as he went to the Batmobile. This is going to be an interesting conversation.

[jailforwriter]

Let's get into...

Look, at the end of the day, writing is word choice. You're choosing which words to put in what order to make other people feel Some Type Of Way about the result. But there are 4 bits of advice perennially swirling about the bowels of writing forums that, misapplied, might make you shit the metaphorical bed of optimal communication, and I very much don't want that for you. I'm staunchly pro-avoiding the literary runs, in fact. So let's get into how.

On the chopping block today is my nemesis:

"Cut all adverbs"

I'm not going to pretend that I don't know why this advice exists. All two reasons it exists, even. Let's break them down:

Too many adverbs: we're all guilty of inundating sentences with adverbs. There are many moving components to scenes, and there's often a desire to express every last one of them. It's not enough to say that the ball rolled down the empty street; the reader simply must know that the ball crept exceedingly slowly, cautiously inching downwardly and toward the eerily empty street. But see, that's clunky. It doesn't flow well, doesn't add anything that couldn't have been expressed more concisely through better wording, and, most importantly, it insults the reader's imagination. By overexplaining, you're taking away their (admittedly limited, but crucial!) agency to picture things themselves. Womp womp.

Redundant adverbs: pretentious people have invented far too many words over the years for anyone to be out here saying "ran quickly". Running is inherently quick, my guy. Otherwise, we'd be saying walking or jogging or promenading (yes, really). This is the moment to break out the thesaurus and realize that sprinted, raced, and dashed all say what you wanted them to say and bring an evocative, nuanced vibe to the sentence. And nuance is tasty. Nuance is the sauce that the quirked up white boy (the sentence) was goated with. So we're better off just saying "ran" and saving that adverb for when it's actually trying to communicate complexities, which we'll expound on once we get into why adverbs are hot, actually.

NOTE: this crops up particularly often in dialogue. "Said angrily" is a dialogue tag that may seem inoffensive — until you remember that snapped exists, and furthermore, so does slamming the door in their face.

So then when/where in the annoyingly nondescript hell should I use adverbs?

Fundamentally, when they add meaning to stuff. To elaborate:

Substance: a sad smile is different from a regular smile, and should be described as such. If you just say "they smiled", people will assume it's a "normal" (i.e. happy) smile and call it day. If someone almost smiles, it's also telling us something different than if we'd said that they didn't smile at all; now we can't tell that they found the joke funny but chose not to smile, and the interaction loses substance. (Moreover, waiting and waiting patiently aren't the same thing, as I'm sure your mom pointed out when she still told you off because you "gave her attitude" by breathing too hard while you waited for her to press play on the VCR.)

Pacing: someone shaking their head slowly is different from them shaking their head at regular, normal human speeds. The latter is simple negation, whereas the former has an element of emotional nuance, of why the hell did they do that that way? Was it anger or regret? Denial, maybe? No idea! But now the reader gets to ponder about it, and that's where interest is born, methinks.

Tone: there aren't too many ways to interpret someone saying "I hate you". It's a pretty straightforward phrase, for the most part, deployed with devastating expertise by schoolchildren whose parents won't give into capitalistic fads and buy them a Stanley cup. But if I were to say "I hate you" softly, then ah. Things change. We have contrasting emotions now. Depth. Is it really an "I love you" in disguise? Am I just mad that you're making me order at the counter when you know I get, like, weird when I have to ask them for no pickles? Perchance. The takeaway here is that the adverb made it so that you can't take the sentence at face-value, and that, unlike pickles, is very satisfying.

The other 3 horsemen of the misconstrued writing advice apocalypse (word choice edition) will be coming soon, so please keep an eye out for seals breaking on ominous scrolls. Happy writing!

[batsplat]

which motogp tracks would you love to see back on the calendar? and which ones would you get rid of?

the main one I wanted back was brno, and they've done that!! that one was a no-brainer

I get the sense argentina won't be coming back any time soon, which is a real shame. it's one of those tracks with a lot of character, feels quite different from everything else on the calendar, often quite slippery and quirky and lent itself to some decent racing. I'll miss it. another obvious pick is welkom, even if they'd have to update the track to make it more suitable to modern motogp. a big part of the appeal here is admittedly the geographical factor and how hosting a race in africa again should be a priority, but I have also enjoyed the welkom races I've watched! I'm going to set aside racing in the lower categories in this post because I kinda feel like they can have decent racing pretty much anywhere. but even for the few premier class races they held there, where I mainly remember 2002, 2003 and 2004... from those 2004 stands out for obvious reasons - which, hey, at least we know for a fact that the circuit can produce classic duels. which is not true of all the circuits that will be mentioned on this list

there's always the laguna question, which does feel particularly academic since motogp definitely isn't returning there for a whole host of reasons. am I sad about that? hm, idk, it was a terrifying track even with the older bikes. with the new bikes, you feel like it would have to be changed a lot to be remotely feasible. it was never a track particularly suited to motogp, you have to say. while it did constitute a thrilling riding challenge, it also wasn't particularly conducive to exciting racing. and yes, I'm aware that they did have one of the races of all time there, but that was very much the exception that proved the rule. (the 2011 casey on jorge blind corner overtake slapped too, yup.) I'm kinda fine with it staying gone - I reckon I'd always feel uneasy watching it and we've probably got as much out of the circuit as a sport as we were going to get. there's a few other ones that get mentioned in these conversations... estoril, for instance, but I'm also not too fussed about that one being gone idk. donington also gets brought up a fair bit and I am kinda fond of that one, but it also wasn't exactly churning out classic races either. don't really feel like the sport has that many lost gems it desperately needs to return to - and any track that hasn't been on the calendar for a while would have to be updated a lot to be feasible now anyway. as long as they don't return to indianapolis, it's all good

moving on to the ones I'd prefer to scrap. first off, portimao - word on the street is that they're not returning next year, which I'm not too upset about. my main problems with this one are the well-documented safety concerns. last year was of course particularly horrific and I'm glad they finally made some changes this year, but it's still a bit of a scary track. it's also one of those that feels like a great riding challenge more than a great race track. I do really enjoy watching riders navigate the roller coaster, it's a good track to watch practise sessions and qualifying and all that... which is lovely, but has the racing really been all that spectacular? I don't know, one that I'm very much in two minds about - but given it just feels like a bit of an endless safety nightmare, it's hard to be too upset to see it go

I kinda feel similarly about some aspects of cota. it's a cool track to watch someone chuck a bike around, clearly a very interesting technical riding challenge, but it doesn't lend itself to particularly good racing. now, I admit that this stance has aged poorly this year, given we randomly had an absolute banger race there that with benefit of hindsight will probably end up being one of the top three races of the season. who knows what that was about! kinda the first good premier class race we've had there! I'd like to see more of the same in years to come to be convinced, but in general I'm not militantly opposed to the track's existence. I'm also not a big fan of motegi, mainly because it's got quite a dull layout - a bunch of straights and copy-and-pasted corners. you compare it to something like sepang, which is such a cool track because it's got so many different fun things going on... with motegi, they kinda had one idea and it wasn't a particularly good one and it's a bit whatever. just not a big fan of stop-and-go centric tracks icl. I don't massively mind it and we've had some decent races there in the past (albeit often aided by the weather), but I also really wouldn't miss it

perhaps my most controversial pick is austria. look, I know we had three back-to-back classics there. it's clearly a track that has produced some great races in the past... though, let's be honest, that really was just a specific era of racing where a good way to produce a classic contest was 'let marc loose on dovi at a circuit that heavily favoured ducati'. there were always some extremely obvious safety concerns with its layout, which very very clearly was not designed with motorcycles in mind - and we came within literal centimetres of tragedy in 2020. I know motorcycle racing is a dangerous sport, I know we still go to tracks where riders have died... but there's a difference between threats that are close to impossible to avoid in the sport and threats that are clearly accentuated by the circuit layout. they did finally make some changes in 2022 by adding the chicane... but in doing so, they've made the racing a lot worse, and the last three editions have been absolute snoozefests. (both 2020 editions were mostly exciting for the wrong reasons and 2021 was exciting literally only because of the weather.) and it's still a circuit where it's way too easy for the bikes to end up back on track!! so now the track has lost quite a bit of its character and it's still dangerous and the on-track action there is poor even by the standards of the current era... also, and this really is just a personal preference - this one's got a lot of very stop-and-go hard braking corners too, which I'm not like... inherently opposed to obviously, but when given the choice I do prefer more fast and flow-y bits and ideally a mix between different types of corners. certainly more a mix than THIS track, it just all feels so same-y. idk, I'm not a fan. it's a nice, simple little car track, not a bike track. we can always lovingly remember the 2017-19 editions and go somewhere else, because that's the best we'll ever see from that circuit

actually y'know what, aleix and luca said it for me:

my main enemy, however, is valencia. first of all, *casey stoner voice* FOUR races in one measly european country is kinda pushing it. obviously, you're not getting rid of jerez. while I do agree that the tyre munching qualities of the catalunya track paired with the current bikes isn't making for good racing... well, that track has enough of a history of great racing I'm hoping we can return to its former glory. aragon this year was admittedly a bit valencia-like for my liking... still, in years where the grip levels aren't quite so fucked and it's not quite this dirty, we have seen some pretty decent racing there. it's generally not a bad overtaking circuit actually - as both 2015 and 2021 showed, the tricky thing used to be making the overtakes actually stick. anyhow, valencia is clearly the worst of these four, but I'd want it abolished wherever it was in the world. it has always been shit. it's narrow, slippery and dirty. when it's dry, it can produce some of the most tedious racing known to man. it's kinda like aragon this year except it's like that every year and the track is also tighter... you can't dare to stray off line because it's all so dirty, so any overtaking tends to happen because someone's made a mistake. the definition of processional. riveting

which would all be bad enough, but then it also has the audacity to be the last race of the season. sure, we've sometimes had interesting races in valencia; title deciders are so nervy that even watching paint dry can be interesting if you're worried the paint's going to fuck it. these are not, however, classic races... these title deciders could be so much more interesting if they were held literally anywhere else. why is it that we've decided to hold potentially our most dramatic race of the season at a track where it is virtually guaranteed you won't get a duel? obviously, race long duels aren't really a thing currently in motogp at any track - but even in eras with way better racing, most valencia races are pretty unwatchable. the best valencia races in the premier class were 1) 2011, where a battle for bragging rights between dovi and dani is low key as good a duel as I've ever seen there, while casey ended up in an uncharacteristically dramatic final lap battle for the victory (albeit one that only happened because of the changing weather conditions), and 2) 2013, where jorge was the most aggressive he'd been for quite a few years while attempting to push marc back into the pack and managing the dani situation (even there the battle doesn't last all that long until jorge gives up and fuck off... of course jorge also wouldn't have ridden that way if it hadn't been the title decider). that's it. throw the rest away. a quarter century's worth of races, mind you - and even those two races I would label 'pretty decent' rather than 'actual classics'. we will never have a classic race that also happens to be a season finale because we insist on always going to that godawful track. literally bomb the site if that's what's needed. appalling circuit, appalling slot in the calendar. it will not survive the revolution

[wisteriagoesvroom]

hey :)) got any hopes for the race? who do you think is going to be in the top 3? (i'm just hoping for no in-team drama, but maybe that's bc i'm new lol) - @monegasquess

no in-team drama -> oh man @monegasquess you're gonna get me yapping. i feel like we've entered f1 at such a sanitised / different age to what it was before but there always was, is, and will be ✨drama ✨... what form it takes i don't know!

but it is certainly interesting compared to even 5 years ago how the public narratives have changed and how much teams (or maybe specifically ferrari and mclaren as examples) actively rely on happy-brotherly driver narratives to market the sport to new audiences (people like us) now. even with red bull i get the sense that the only reason we're not seeing inter-driver drama is because checo knows exactly where he stands and what is role in the team is, which is definitely interesting to watch. we are experiencing max in the kind of... moon waxing phase because he already has 3 WDCs but we're also seeing indications of how volatile he can get when there's a hint of challenge to getting him that WDC, like silverstone, austria, hungary. it seems like a very different type of drama to the danil/pierre/alex albon eras where they were younger drivers feeling like they had a lot to prove to each other as much as the team... but i digress.

where we're at in the season now makes for extremely compelling racing, especially given the almost clean sweep max made last year / what a friend of mine called "max's leisure sunday morning drive" to p1 every time lol. and this is not to downplay that he is a once in a generation driver who wrangles magic out of the car - due to a variety of reasons it hasn't been easy for him this year and that's what makes for great viewing too: added stakes.

TANGENT ASIDE, my personal hopes for the race... from a mclaren pov....

obviously i'd like an oscar podium in spa (tho a win would be stellar). he's driving well and idk anything about the track conditions or whether they favour the car but consensus seems to be that the orange car is a rocketship whichever way you slice it, so. but also. maybe something people don't talk about as much is how much driver synergy is actually required - amongst the other engineering prowess obviously and huge credit to andrea and team here - to get the car developed to this point. lando and oscar are clearly very evenly matched in skill at the moment. to me, in an oversimplified way, lando has better tyre management, and oscar is better on attack. and also i am thinking about how andrea says it seems lando and oscar discuss the car amongst themselves before they deliver feedback so they are on the same page. so it'll be exciting to see them battle wheel to wheel more... and certainly not without drama.

there also was a really funny and accurate post about how mclaren's DNA has been kind of... repositioned publicly to be all chummy chummy but that's probably going to change if the two drivers ever end up fighting in earnest for a WDC. idk. there are a lot of unknowns. there are a lot of possibilities. there's a reason why fic is the fun sandbox to explore those because we also just never know what might happen with the reg changes by '26 which could toss mclaren all the way back to middle of the pack, it's incredibly hard to say.

one thing for sure though. is that until oscar gets his wdc (which in my biased but also strident opinion he will in his career)... i am unfortunately buckled tf up to watch lmao.

and the sport will change again with the arrival of new talent, new marketing, new audience acquisition, the direction that Liberty Media i.e. the owners want to take it (more street tracks...eugh brother eugh)... so who knows, genuinely.

anyway your ask about this particular race weekend turned into a much longer essay centred around my interest in oscar and the future of the sport sooooo uh yeah staying true to my rep as yappatron 3000 i guess. but with summer break coming up and new folks following the sport all the time, i thought it was worth chatting about!

thank you for the question!

[arrolyn1114]

August 16

I am listening to Aloha From Hawaii as I sit down to write this tribute, my favorite of Elvis's live performances. I have read some other tributes and all of them have been so beautiful. This made me pretty emotional to write not gonna lie.

This date definitely carries more weight with me this year for so many reasons. As many already know, I was an Elvis fan before the movie last year but I wasn't as involved in the fandom as I am now. Back in 2002 when "Lilo and Stitch" came out, I took my then 7 year old niece to see it and she did enjoy it, but it was me the adult in her 20s who walked out obsessed with it. Since then, I've honestly felt like it was just me and my homegirl Lilo who appreciated Elvis and since she's a drawing I can't have a conversation with her. Elvis kind of fell to the wayside for me, in the background but still appreciated.

I admit I was skeptical about the movie last year when I first heard about it. I was like "Who the hell is this Austin dude who's playing Elvis? And Baz is directing it? Interesting. Ok, well I guess I'll give it a watch and see." And I'm so glad I did because they blew me away and re-sparked my interest in Elvis. I love how the movie introduced so many new people to Elvis and now there's all these new fans to talk to. I've made all kinds of new friends in this fandom. I hadn't really been using my Tumblr much but I went on it last year to see if I could find other fans to talk to and it turned out to be the best thing because I was invited to join the best Discord channel where I have met some truly wonderful Elvis fans of all ages from around the world. One of the things I love about the Elvis fandom is how supportive and inclusive it is. There's so much toxicity in so many fandoms these days but it seems to be an extremely rare thing in this fandom and that is so refreshing.

Elvis also helped me break through a long drought of writer's block. Prior to the movie last year, I hadn't been doing much writing, just some short one shots for my other fandoms and I was struggling, thinking I'd never write something long or substantial. I had little faith I could write a long story with an intricate plot. After the movie rekindled my interest in him he busted right through that block and I ran with the idea that popped into my head. It started as a one shot and quickly grew into a novel length story. I just posted chapter 35 the other day and it's still ongoing. I admit I was nervous about posting it at first, I often suffer from self doubt and imposter syndrome and I worry my writing is not good enough to share. But I'm so glad I shared it. I had no idea it was going to be as loved as it is now. I have so many devoted readers who have left me kudos and given me amazing feedback for which I am so grateful. And new readers continue to discover it all the time which brings me even more joy.

Little by little I am starting to get over my insecurities and self doubts about my writing. I am getting much better at battling imposter syndrome and letting my creativity flow. It feels SO good to be writing again, when you've gone through a long bout of creative block to finally be back at your craft is one of the most amazing feelings in the world. So thank you Elvis, thank you for helping me.

In December of this year, I will be visiting Memphis and Graceland for the very first time. I'm a runner who loves to look for destination races so I can plan a trip around a race so I am doing the Memphis St Jude half marathon on Dec 2 and I am going to cosplay as Aloha Elvis. I have an American Eagle jumpsuit onesie to wear for the race. I also plan on ordering a multi pack of leis which I will wear and hand to the volunteers at the aid stations when they hand me Gatorade and I will thank them for aiding my gator. It will be overwhelmingly emotional for me to run on the same streets Elvis once walked. Me and my significant other are staying the week after the race to do Graceland and other tourist things in Memphis. I am so excited.

I hope that wherever Elvis is in the afterlife that he knows how loved he still is and how he's still positively affecting people all these decades later after he passed.

This ended up being a pretty long piece and if you read the whole thing, thank you. I leave you with some pics of my favorite Elvis, Aloha E: my man of many leis. ❤🌺

[f1]

Miami Grand Prix: Sergio Perez needs to be 'perfect' to beat team-mate Max Verstappen to title

Sergio Perez's victory in Baku last weekend was his sixth overall in F1 Sergio Perez says he will have to be "perfect" if he is to have a chance of beating Red Bull team-mate Max Verstappen to the title this year. Perez is six points behind Verstappen heading into this weekend's Miami Grand Prix and each has two wins. Perez said: "The only chance I have to beat Max is by perfect and being able to deliver when it matters." He said battling for the title was "a massive enjoyment - it's what you have been working your whole life for". Verstappen is Red Bull's number one driver, earns many times more than Perez and has a contract until 2028 rather than 2024. But Red Bull have said the two are free to race as long as they put the team's interests first and the Mexican said he was confident that the team would give him the backing he needed to challenge Verstappen. "I do believe that the team will give me as much support as they do with Max and what they have been doing since the start of the season," Perez said. "In that regard, we have to appreciate that a lot from Red Bull. It would be very easy to implement orders from lap 20 and [say] look after the cars and make sure we have reliable cars. "But in Jeddah and Baku we pushed flat out throughout the race and in Baku we each hit the wall a few times because we were so on the limit. It could easily [cause] damage and we could easily have a problem." There was tension between the two drivers last year when Verstappen came to believe that Perez had crashed deliberately on his final lap in qualifying in Monaco to prevent his team-mate having a chance of beating him. But Perez insisted: "The level of respect between Max and myself and the engineers is pretty high, although people might think differently. I am sure the team feels super-confident to let us race as hard as we have been doing." Last year, Verstappen set a new record of 15 victories in a season to win his second title, while Perez won only two. Perez said he had worked hard over the winter to understand how to get the best out of the Red Bull car. "I'm mentally very strong and that's my biggest strength and has always been," he said. "It is not easy being Max's team-mate because he is delivering all the time and he is winning all the time and we have seen it in the past. It is not easy for a team-mate to survive. "I believe in myself but I had to go very deep into understanding of the car and making sure I put the right tools in place to be able to fight." Perez's two wins in 2022 were both on street circuits, in Monaco and Singapore, and the same is true of his victories this season in Jeddah and Baku. Perez has a reputation for being strong on street circuits and last weekend his team principal Christian Horner said he "just needs to get going on the proper circuits". And Verstappen has implied that he believes he will grow stronger as the season progresses and the sport returns to its more traditional tracks. "Some tracks probably suit you a bit better and probably for Checo his driving style and the way he likes the car probably suits a bit better to street circuits," Verstappen said. "I personally don't really enjoy street circuits so probably there is also something in that. I prefer more fast corners but that's how it goes. You have a few street circuits on the calendar, a few normal tracks as well." But Perez said he believed he would be able to carry forward his form at all races this year. "The reason I am strong on these circuits is because I am able to play with the car much more than I used to," he said. 'So I see no reason when we go to different circuits [for it not to be] the same way as I've been doing." via BBC Sport - Formula 1 http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/

[norribobs]

I was tagged by the lovely and gorgeous @twinkodium 💛💛

What colour are your eyes?

A very light blue, almost grey. I once had a patient say it reminds them of the sky before a snowstorm.

My eyes are the one feature that everyone mentions when they meet me. Either because of the colour or the fact that I have naturally really long lashes 😂

Tell me about your pets. Or your dream pet.

I have a rescue cat called Texas. The name was already given to her at shelter and it was never changed. She usually goes by Tex, or Texan BBQ.

Share some interesting facts about yourself.

I was once held hostage when I was 16. I was coming home from school when I saw a lady in her garden in obvious pain trying to get to her car and she told me that her husband had abandoned her and she didn’t know where he’d gone, and she needed to get to hospital. I couldn’t drive, so I got her back into the house and call an ambulance and we heard the front door close and lock. Turns out the husband had Alzheimer’s and was very confused and had only gone upstairs. Now convinced that we’re attackers, he locked us in and kept screaming at us with a knife that he wouldn’t let us kill him. So I had to get keep him out the living room until the ambulance arrived and had to let them in through the living room window. Both are now okay, she got the help she needed and the husband is now in a care home where he’s safe and looked after.

What was the first fandom you were a part of.

Doctor Who. I gad only just turned 9 when it came back in 2005. And I was obsessed.

Do you have any phobias?

I do. But they’re quite dark thanks to the shit I’ve seen at work. Deep Water and Fire. Mainly because I’ve seen bodies of those that have drowned, and someone that caught on fire. And they will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Are you a picky eater? If so, what food can’t you stand?

Not really. I love most food. I often look like I’m a picky eater when I go to a seaside town in the UK called Whitby. Which I do with family every year. But it’s not because I’m picky. It’s because I’m allergic to shellfish and so much food has hidden prawns in it!

Do you eat the burger and fries at the same time? Or one after another?

One after the other. 🫣 Fries first then the burger.

Winter or Summer?

WINTER. I am all about the ‘ber’ months. September through to December! Back to school, then Halloween, Bonfire Night, Advent and Christmas! It’s all great!

What fanfiction tropes are your favourites?

Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers (Looking at you Jack and Nikki), Mutual pining is always fun.

Are you studying or working? What did you study, what is your job?

Nurse. That’s why I’ve seen too much shit 🫠

What is the last country you visited?

Wales, technically.

What country would you want to move to after retiring?

I dunno. I’d probably end up back home in Yorkshire to be honest.

Who was your first crush?

A boy on my street called Lucien. He was French, family had moved from Paris. When we were like 14, we started dating and were together for like 2 years. His mum ended up being my French teacher at school which was awkward but they spoke French at his house so I knew quite a bit by the end. I’ve probably forgotten most of it now though.

How did you get into the F1 fandom?

I always loved racing things, ever since I was a kid. Herbie films were my favourite films growing up and then she told me I’d like F1. First race was Monaco 2009. And never missed one since.

I tag whoever wants to do this! 💛💛

[dear-ao3]

welcome back to saphs silly season monstrosity post. i asked and y'all voted that i should keep it going so here we are. if you DONT WANT TO SEE THIS POST EVER AGAIN then block the tag #saph explains silly season 2024

today is february 9, 2024 and without further ado we have this weeks drama:

we've got stake, we've got alpine, we've got the distinct lack of painted cars, we've got the singapore race, we've got charles's spotify account, we've got alex albon and hm what am i missing???

ah yes. christian horner.

strap yourselves in folks!

first up is stake f1 team kick sauber. aside from having a ridiculous name they also now have legal problems. which, incidentally, have to do with the name. allow me to explain:

stake is a crypto betting casino esque company. they have sponsored the team before (when it was called alpha romeo) but now they are the Title Sponsor. this presented a few problems initially because betting is not legal in all the countries where the races are, so they legally can't be called stake all the time at all the races. thats why they're also called kick sauber. kick is the name of another one of their sponsors (its a streaming platform actually owned by stake), not the title one, but still a prominent one. they have removed the stake sponsor from the car in previous years at races where gambling promotion is not allowed.

well well well if only it were that easy.

you see. casinos, even crypto casinos, need to be licensed. and stake is apparently not licensed in switzerland. now why on earth does this matter? well. sauber is a swiss team. and sauber took on stake as their title sponsor. they're being sponsored by a company that is technically not legal in their country.

you would think that this would have all been caught before they launched the car and rebranded themselves, but alas.

and, according to sports illustrated, "The Federal Casino Commission in Switzerland has initiated proceedings against Sauber due to the unlicensed status of Stake, potentially resulting in a substantial fine."

yes. you read that one correctly.

now apparently this wasnt a problem when stake was a lesser sponsor but now that its the main sponsor, this is bad news for stake f1 team kick sauber.

apparently tho the team isn't super concerned and is confident in the original plan to run under two names depending on the country. they have tho removed the name stake from their website. which is an interesting choice for people who are confident they're doing nothing wrong.

two car launches happened this week, the first was alpine. the alpine car looks a lot like every other car this year: a lot of plain black carbon fiber and very minimal paint. everyone has been shitting on this because not too long ago all the cars were pretty painted, but then merc decided to run an all black car to save weight because the paint weighs more and now everyone is copying them and the internet is memeing the shit out of it:

(via the instagram account f1troll)

the alpine instagram admins even shitted on themselves with this video of them pointing at the car and going "carbon fiber" over and over

then the visa cashapp racing bulls showed up in an actual painted car and saved the day:

is that technically silly season drama? no but its fucking hilarious.

its also not really part of the silly season that charles leclercs spotify account keeps getting hacked and someone keeps posting their own song onto it, but its objectively hilarious. he keeps having to post on his instagram story that "guyssss this isnttt meeee"

now back to the silly season drama.

shape of the singapore race, form of suspected corruption.

now tbh i dont really get this one too much so ill do me damndest but it might behoove you to just google it yourself if youre curious.

one of the races on the f1 calendar is the singapore grand prix. its a street track (as opposed to a track track) and if you recall, it was the only race last year won by a non red bull driver (carlos sainz). singapore has a contract to be an f1 track until 2028. (yes tracks have contracts just like the drivers, remember its a stupid bonkers sport)

well apparently its currently being reviewed by the local government to see if it can/should still happen for 2024. why? well someone got arrested.

the someone in question was the transport minister, s. iswaran. he stepped down following several charges of corruption. he was in charge of tourism and started around the time when the singapore gp began several years ago. according to the bbc, he was accused of taking more than 100k USD worth of flights, hotels and f1 tickets "in exchange for advancing property tycoon Ong Beng Seng's business interests" and ong beng seng was involved in bringing the grand prix to singapore in the first place (according to sports illustrated). (its also worth pointing out that singapore rarely ever gets involved in political scandals)

now because s. iswaran was involved in the original f1 singapore track contract, the contract is being investigated to make sure that the race actually benefits the country (i think). and they are still gearing up for the 2024 race and so far nothing has been found that would suggest that there was corruption in the race contract, but its still a possibility.

so in short, the singapore race could be off the calendar.

and now with that we are back at alex albon. it would seem as though he is signed for 2025 with williams but now red bull want him for potentially 2026 on a three year contract.

now as we know, alex has said that if williams is performing then he is willing to stay with the team. as we also know, alex has also already driven for red bull and they tossed him aside for checo in 2021. checo has since kinda started fucking shit up for red bull and if theyre looking back to rehire alex albon, over danny rics and yuki tsunoda, then this is probably pretty dire of a situation for them.

also. red bull do Not like admitting they made mistakes in their driver contracts. notably, they never took pierre gasley back even when it was wildly speculated that they regretted swapping him in 2019.

red bull is also in the shit for entirely different reasons right now but well get to that later.

but regardless, red bull have supposedly expressed interest in having first refusal of alex when his williams contract expires in 2025. meaning, they are the first to claim him potentially (i think). again, this says more about the red bull team than it says about alex albon. red bull have not one, not two, but three drivers lined up for a red bull seat (danny rics, yuki tsunoda and liam lawson). and if they are overlooking All Three of them for someone they have previously ixed, then that may present a problem for the current racing bulls drivers (danny rics and yuki) who are likely only driving there with the hopes of getting promoted up to red bull.

and lastly. we have christian horner.

he had his first hearing today about the allegations. it reportedly lasted 8 hours with breaks and no conclusion was reached.

again, he is being investigated for "inappropriate behavior," but it is also being called "controlling behavior" and it may have included "inappropriate photos," depending on what report of the events you are reading. regardless, the accusations were made by a female employee.

several news outlets, not just racing news outlets, have reported on this, but ive gotten most of my information from sky sports.

originally, red bull wanted to have all of this squared away before they release their car next week, but that clearly is not happening. (honestly it will probably extend into the start of the season) mostly because this is now a legal case and there is stupidly long legal proceedings that now have to take place because it is a legal case.

in any case, christian has still denied the accusations and though hes been advised to vacate his position, he still has not. red bull is worried about their image with the whole ordeal and him being in his position still but, no one has forcibly removed him and unless someone does i dont see him leaving. there are people who are reportedly on the inside who think that he will not survive his position.

also, hes not only the team principal of red bull, hes also the red bull racing ceo.

and as christian horner once famously said on drive to survive. red bull is an energy drinks company. the f1 team was created to advertise their product and they will only have the team as long as they are benefitting from it. so will this scandal make red bull change their mind. we dont know.

also, again, max verstappen is only basically at red bull as long as they are winning. and if they lose max verstappen, they're kinda completely fucked. and if christian has to leave his position and the new leadership isn't as good, this could be possible.

now theres also a whole lot of red bull drama with the various higher ups that i really dont get and its very confusing but all you need to know now is that christian horner has a feud going with some of the other management (helmut marko) and should the investigation happen in a way that isn't good for christian this could be very very interesting for the red bull management.

also lets get a reminder here that THE SEASON HASNT EVEN STARTED YET.

stay tuned kids.

Sorry i tried to scroll past but, i know nothing about f1 other than max verstappen is fast, my dad doesnt like lewis hamilton, fast car goes in a loop and sometimes expodes. Could you give me a crash course in f1 drama? Im very intrigued. Whats the tea as it were?

a terribly loaded question, but i will do my best. i’ve talked about some of the drama before like the red bull second seat and the chronicles of haas but allow me to briefly try my hand at explaining the nightmare that is the upcoming silly season

under the cut we go

silly season is when the drivers go through contract renewals, extensions and switches. usually it’s confined to the first half of the season (march-july) but it has been known to extend all the way to the last race of the season and they like to switch people around at random sometimes. driver contracts are complex, there’s a lot of money involved and basically You Are The Face Of The Team so if you have a shit season then you make the team look bad. but at the same time you could have a shit season because you have a shit car. it’s sticky stuff.

so. there are only twenty seats in formula 1. 10 teams. each team gets two drivers. (there’s also reserve drivers but we’re not going to get into that). who ends up with a contract is largely up to the teams, they can pull the contract out from under people they can also cut you mid season. they’ve done it before.

of the 20 drivers on the grid, 14 of them have contracts expiring at the end of the year. yes. 14. you see how this could get complicated.

so let’s meet the teams.

red bull racing. they came first this year (and last year) in the championship. like aggressively first. like they won the championship by over 350 points. they are definitely the team to beat. but if you end up with a seat at red bull, you do have to deal with max verstappen being your teammate and he won all but three of the races last year. he’s the golden boy. red bull are also notoriously silly when it comes to contracts and famously swap people mid season who aren’t performing.

mercedes. merc is home to 7 time world champion lewis hamilton and they have won the championship a great many times, though not since 2021. they are kind of in their flop arc and their car the last 2 years has been pretty garbage, but they have still made it work because they were able to come in second last year.

ferrari. god help the poor little meow meows with a ferrari contract. ferrari is a notoriously great team and they’re trying to get back to the top again but their strategy every single time has fallen short. to the point where their drivers are the ones doing the strategy in their cars while driving. they came in third last year and have been decently consistent at getting first in qualifying and then getting beat by max verstappen on race day.

mclaren. they’ve definitely worked their way up over recent years. they ended fourth last year and have had some championship wins before but not nearly as many as say merc and ferrari. their team ceo (owner? director?) is a little interesting and their car started out a pile of flaming hot garbage at the beginning of the year but they did manage to get their shit together.

aston martin. they are owned by canadian billionaire lawrence stroll, father of lance stroll (one of the drivers for the team). they’ve undergone several name changes over the recent years (force india, racing point, etc). they positively slayed at the start of the season and then one day they sucked. they finished fifth in the championship.

alpine. the frenchest french team. they’re (i think?) still partially owned by the french government. both of their drivers are french. (their drivers also hate eachother but we’ll get to that. just know they’re in the middle of a modern french civil war). they had the opportunity to have a good rookie driver (oscar piastri) this past year but in a thrilling twitter battle, he publically flamed the shit out of them and went to mclaren instead (and slayed). they're usually solidly middle of the pack. they ended sixth in the championship.

williams. williams has been one of the back of the grid teams for the last many years but they have finally started to get their shit together and don’t quite suck as much as they used to. all of the points this year were scored by only one driver though (except one but we’ll get there). they came in seventh.

alpha tauri. they are the sister team of red bull. so technically redbull owns both teams (meaning they can swap drivers between teams. they like doing this.) they’ve just kind of been There for awhile but they did slay towards the end of the season when one of their drivers led the race for several laps. basically tho, this team is the gateway to redbull. they came in eighth.

alpha romeo. recently renamed to stake f1 team (but sometimes they are going to be called kick sauber. this is a whole other drama post and i’m not getting into it). they’re also just kind of there. generally unproblematic. seems that really great drivers who get ixed out of a contract for a younger driver end up here or young drivers who are in their early years are here before they go to a better team. they ended ninth this year.

haas. oh haas. goofy team. they suck. point blank they suck. they keep loosing sponsors because they suck, they don’t win ever (one time they came first in qualifying last year). they cursed themselves in australia in 2018 by not tightening their tires and its been downhill ever since. they came 10th. their team principle got let go (fired?) who’s to say today.

so those are the teams. it is important to note that:

-there is a cost cap. each team is allowed to spend no more than 135m per year.

-not all cars are equal. some things are standard. they all undergo the same testing. but the cars are all very different. so you can be a good driver but stuck in a shitty car. which makes it impressive if you are doing well in a shitty car.

let’s meet our drivers!!!

starting with the guys who’s contract is not ending in 2024:

max verstappen. 3 time world champion. 26 years old. general beast on the track. he dominated the whole season. he’s currently racing for red bull and has a contract with them through 2028.

lewis hamilton. 7 time world champion. 39 years old. he drives for mercedes. he will not leave mercedes until he retires. he really really wants to win an 8th world championship and is willing to stick it out a few more years as long as merc still believes in him. his contract expires in 2025.

george russell. the other merc driver. 26 years old. hes aggressively british and says thinks like blimey unironically. walking meme. got his merc seat in 2022 right when they entered their flop arc by getting his tractor of a williams to finish second in qualifying in the middle of a rainstorm. his contract expires in 2025.

lando norris. mclaren driver. 24 years old. he has notably never won a race in his five years of formula one (mostly because right when his car finally was good enough max verstappen was 20 seconds ahead of anyone) but he is regarded as Very Good. he has only ever driven for mclaren. and even though there is another year left on his contract there is mass speculation that he will not renew his contract with mclaren after it expires and he may move up to one of the top teams (red bull, merc, ferrari) (tho i think he doesnt hate himself quite enough to go to ferrari). his contract expires in 2025.

oscar piastri. the other mclaren driver. 22 years old. this was his rookie season and he positively slayed. like people compared his rookie season to lewis hamiltons rookie season. he also had the positively funniest start to his rookie year because alpine announced that he would be driving for them (he had been their reserve driver and in the alpine academy) and he posted a tweet that basically said yeah thats false i never singed anything with you and im going to race with mclaren instead (he dodged a bullet) and then alpine tried and failed to sue him for $4m USD. he signed a contract extension with mclaren this year and his contract expires in 2026.

lance stroll. aston martin driver and son of the aston martin owner. hes doing ok, tho there was conspiracy that he wanted to quit and have a tennis career awhile ago. but basically since his dad owns the team it seems that hes guaranteed a seat for as long as he wants one.

so now. moving onto the good shit. the people who have contracts expiring in 2024. hold onto your hats people.

charles leclerc. (everyones favorite slutty little soup can). 26 years old. he is currently at ferrari and he has been since 2019. notably, he was given the longest contract in the history of ferrari after a stellar rookie season at sauber (renamed to alpha romeo, renamed to stake f1) where he got the tractor of a car consistently into the points. having the longest contract in the history of ferrari was a flex at the time, but now its likely how he will introduce himself at therapy sessions. ferrari have fucked this man left right and center up the ass with a plastic lunchroom spork. hes talented, he can drive, and he can drive well. but the strategy that ferrari has absolutely sucks. either something is wrong with the car (see him blowing out his gear box on the formation lap in monaco, his car completely crapping out and spinning into the barrier in brazil before the race even started) or they fuck up his pit stops or put him on the wrong tires and honestly its just frustrating. but will he leave??? likely not. you'd have to pry ferrari out of his cold dead hands and at this rate that might be where this is headed though there has been some minor speculation of him going to another team like merc or red bull, but merc doesnt have any open seats and red bull is a whole other dumpster fire of drama. ferrari are going to have to pay him a boatload of money to make him stay.

carlos sainz. the smooth operator. 29 years old. ferrari driver. previously carlos was at toro rosso (renamed to alpha tauri), renault (renamed to alpine), and mclaren before signing with ferrari. he has been at ferrari since 2021 and has voiced that he would like to stay with them for however long he can. there is speculation that lando might replace him at ferrari (but landos contract is not up until 2025) and there is also some speculation that alex albon might replace him. while charles is clearly the golden boy at ferrari, carlos is slightly slower but also definitely consistent. he was THE ONLY non red bull driver to win a race this past year, in Singapore after max verstappedn was knocked out of qualifying by alpha tauri reserve driver liam lawson (more on him later) and because he basically came up with his own strategy in the car while he was driving.

sergio perez. aka checo. red bull driver. 33 years old. and oh boy here's where we open the can of worms. checo was previously at racing point (renamed aston martin) and it was very near the end of the 2020 (?) season and he was out of a contract. he had a bonkers race where he was knocked to the back of the grid and then overtook everyone and somehow ended up winning (there is more to that story but just trust me) and christian horner, red bull team principle, mr ginger spice and definite disney villain called him and said congrats sir you have a seat at red bull! well. fast forward. hes been causing problems. problems as in crashing a lot, generally not doing great and pissing the crap out of red bull. it is basically guaranteed at this point that he will not be getting a contract extension. there was actually talk this year of him losing his seat mid season to one of the alpha tauri drivers, because remember, red bull owns both teams and they can switch them whenever they want to (and they have!) but ultimately this did not happen. even though checo has a seat at red bull until the end of 2024, its mass speculated that he is going to get switched with an alpha tauri driver, probably daniel ricciardo (more on him shortly) mid season because there is a speculated clause in daniels contract that says that if checo isn't performing well in the first few races daniel is getting his seat.

daniel ricciardo. 34 years old. alpha tauri driver. man oh man what a guy. outside of being the prankster of the paddock, he has one of the most batshit careers of anyone currently on the grid. he started out at red bull and was showing real talent and skill and was on track to win things (and was!) and was there until the end of 2018 when max verstappen (his teammate) started getting preferential treatment and also red bull started having a lot of problems with their engines (which were being outsourced from Renault (now alpine) and another team on the grid) and well very very long story short he made the surprise move of the century and decided to sign with Renault (which makes no sense they're the one with the engine problems) and was there for 2 years before moving again to mclaren where he was reportedly not treated very well and had a hard time driving the car so they mutually ended his contract with them early and he basically retired at the end of the 2022 season and became a red bull reserve driver. then halfway through the 2023 season alpha tauri ixed one of their drivers, nyck de vries, because he wasnt doing well and promoted daniel back up to a full time driver at alpha tauri (which we know is only a step down from red bull) but then he broke his hand in a crash in zanvort (?) and then he was replaced for a few races by formula 2 driver liam lawson (who we will also talk about) and then he came back to finish out the season in alpha tauri after he was cleared. daniel has admitted openly that he never should have left red bull and he was given bad advice to do so. hes towards the end of his career at this point and its well known that he Really Really wants to finish out his career at red bull again. he and max have already been teammates before and they do work well together and daniel is great driver (see his comeback in texas (or maybe it was brazil?) this year). so. Pretty Sure that daniels going to get either an extension at alpha tauri or go up to red bull. thats what we all want. get this man in a red bull we need him there biblically.

liam lawson. now technically liam is not actually a formula 1 driver. hes a formula 2 driver, but he was daniels replacement for five races and there has been some speculation and some confirmed news about him so hes getting included. when he was racing for f1 he was at alpha tauri. hes 21 and looks like he belongs in the movie grease. no one was expecting him to slay in formula 1 and he positively knocked everyones socks off. the scene: Singapore. which, if you'll recall, is the one race that a not red bull driver won. this was largely because liam lawson slayed the absolute game in qualifying. the qualifying part of racing determines what order the cars start in on the grid for the race and theres three parts, the first two parts the bottom 5 drivers each time get knocked out and then the top 10 complete for the last 10 spots. liam lawson knocked BOTH max verstappen and checo perez out of qualifying in the second round by going very slightly faster than them, effectively fucking up red bulls race and allowing carlos to win. and he also scored points in that race, which no one was expecting. now thats all fine and dandy, but here's the speculation: hemlut marko (im pretty sure) (who is somehow decently involved in the decision making at red bull though i couldn't tell you how) said that he thinks that liam lawson will be in an f1 seat no later than 2025. meaning that he will probably get offered a contract this year. and hes already raced for alpha tauri. red bull have sunk a good amount of money into him. they clearly want him. so if he gets offered an alpha tauri seat in 2025, that means theres a good chance danny rics is going to red bull. do you SEE how the plot here is THICKENED

yuki tsunoda. age 23. currently at alpha tauri. and fun fact, the only alpha tauri driver to race there the whole year. he had three separate team mates. he is slaying and hes often slept on. he has a bit of a temper and likes to shout on the radio and also hates working out (they had to force him to move to italy or something to work out, long story) but hes been kinda killing it. he led several laps in the abu dhabi race this year and hes decently consistent. people think theres possibility that he could get moved up to red bull on account of the fact that he is younger than daniel and clearly has more years in him,, but there is also possibility that he might not because red bull like to make stupid decisions. and if he doesnt get moved up to rebel, will he stay with alpha tauri? we don't know.

alex albon. age 27. currently a williams driver. alex albon is another one with a batshit career. he started out his rookie year in 2019 at alpha tauri then got moved up to red bull halfway through the year when red bull decided that pierre gasley wasnt doing a good enough job (more on him later) and stayed with red bull for a solid year and a half until he lost his seat in 2021 to checo. he has been with williams for the last two years and is basically carrying the team. like. williams as a team scored 28 points this year. and alex albon scored 27 of those 28 points. and as we know, williams is still kind of in their shit arc (though they are doing much better. they didnt score any points for a solid 2 (?) years. so this is an improvement.) and if you can get a shit car to perform you catch the eye of bigger teams. now, alex has already been a red bull driver. and he was on the cusp of podiuming two separate times when lewis hamilton ran into him. this (among a few other things) basically killed his chances at getting resigned at red bull because he wasnt ""performing"" and red bull are bitches who love to win. but some people think that red bull should give him another shot. like daniel, hes already been max's teammate and he can definitely drive. but theres also talk he might go to ferrari because ferrari think that he might compliment charles's driving style (or something). but going to ferrari at this point is kind of suicide. so.

logan sergeant. age 23. the only american on the grid. the other williams driver. he just finished his rookie year. he scored a grand total of one single point this season, in texas, and it was because charles leclerc and lewis hamilton both got disqualified because the floor of their car had more wear (by literally less than millimeters) than it was allowed to, bumping him up from 12th to 10th. he has never done better than alex albon. he was also the very last driver to get a contract for 2024, with williams waiting until i think december of 2023 to announce his contract extension. clearly, hes on thin ice. but people have also said that he needs time to get used to formula 1 (other people have pointed out that oscar piastri slayed his rookie season this year and this statement about needing time is largely false). where logan ends up next year though will largely depend on how well the 2024 season goes for him.

fernando alonso. 42 years old. many people like to point out that oscar piastri is actually younger than fernando's racing career. he won tiktok creator of the year (somehow) and is also a 2 time world champion. he retired a few years ago, just to show back up again and slay. during the first half of the season when aston martin had a zoom zoom car he killed it, and then they had problems on top of problems and he didnt do well. except for that one race in brazil where he came in third, beating checo by literally .05 seconds. he hasn't really made any hints about retiring a second time and he is kind of carrying aston Martin right now (he scored 205 points this season, coming in 4th and tying in points with charles leclerc, lance stroll only scored 74 points this year.) and they did have their best year yet this year. (though they are relatively new).

pierre gasley. 27 years old. french. drives for alpine. the french team. previously he raced with toro rosso (now alpha tauri), then got promoted to a red bull driver in 2019, then halfway through the season they decided he wasnt doing a good enough job and he got demoted back down to alpha tauri. then he won a race with alpha tauri just to stick it to red bull. after the great oscar piastri contract twitter war, he was signed as alpines second driver, with Esteban ocon being the other driver (more on him soon). estie bestie and pierre (both french) were childhood friends and now hate each other for unknown reasons and basically feuded on the track for most of the season. french civil war at alpine. he scored 62 points in 2023 and came in 11th. not really sure where he will end up, it is possible that he will stick it out at alpine.

esteban ocon. 27 years old. also french. currently driving for alpine. another one with a silly bonkers career. he started out at force india and had a baller few seasons there but his teammate at the time was checo, and checo didnt really cooperate with him too much and caused some drama that cost estie bestie some places and some points. max verstappen also beat him up in the garage once. thats not really relevant but it did happen. anyway, after the owner of force india was arrested for .... i don't remember what maybe it was embezzlement or bankruptcy or something money related, the team was backed by lawrence stroll and became racing point. but all of that happened mid season and lawrence was basically like look ill back you guys for now but next year my son gets a seat (lance) so one of you two (checo and estie bestie) have to go. and ultimately they let estie bestie go even though he was more consistent because checo had more sponsors and they needed money. so he was out of formula 1 for a few years (but was a merc reserve driver) and then went to Renault, which then became alpine. he did come in 12th though overall this season, just behind pierre. so. will alpine keep both him and pierre and keep the civil war going? whos to say.

nico hulkenberg. 36 years old. haas driver. in his 200+ f1 races he has never been on the podium and he really really wants to be on the podium. unfortunately this will never happen in a haas because haas fucking sucks. and everyone knows it. he is getting towards the end of his career though. though! stake f1 will become the mario Andretti and audi team in 2026 (don't question it) and they have supposedly voiced interest in nico. so we will see if he hangs on that long to end up at audi. for now tough, hes definitely hating it at haas. though, haas are going to have a different team principle next year so maybe that will change things. i have a sneaky feeling through that haas will probably end up with another 2 rookie drivers because everyone else is smart enough to not race for them.

kevin magnussen. 31 years old. haas driver. hes another deeply interesting character. he has had one podium. in his rookie season. in his first race. and none since. kevin started at haas in 2017 and then left at then end of 2020 when he basically got kicked off because the team needed money and they wanted to bring in drivers with more sponsorships. these drivers were mick schumacher and nikita mazepin. so kevin basically was forced to retire after the 2020 season. this went decently well for haas. until russia invaded ukraine right before the start of the 2022 season and, well, nikita was Russian and it was never distinctly proven that his dads company (who was sponsoring the team) wasnt also funding the invasion. so nikita got fired and they were literally like 2 weeks out from the start of the season, down a driver. who are you gonna call? kevin magnussen! and hes been back ever since. but hes clearly getting annoyed with haas. there was one great clip from this year where his car caught on fire and he kind of just stared into to, clearly hoping it would burn for a long time. so the likelihood of him extending his contract is looking slim.

valtteri bottas. 34 years old. currently a driver for stake f1 (alpha romeo, kick sauber, whatever you wanna call it). previously, he was a mercedes driver and notoriously helped lewis hamilton win a great many championships, until he lost his seat to george russell in 2022. there was a rather awkward part of the 2021 season where valtteri knew that he was out of a merc seat the following year and kind of just chose violence. he slayed. then he went to alpha romeo, grew a mullet and made a calendar of his ass. quite the glow up if you ask me. hes also very interested in cycling. honestly though, i have my own personal speculation that hes going to retire at the end of this year.

zhou guanyu. 24 years old. driver for stake f1 (alpha romeo/kick sauber, etc etc). hes doing alright. he just finished his second season, in his first season he was majorly out qualified by valtteri but this past season he managed to out qualify him a good 6 times. which is decently good for the tractor of a car hes driving. its possible that he could get a contract extension, but like logan, its probably going to depend on how the 2024 season goes for him.

and thats all the drivers. theres also a few others i didnt talk about, like some other f2 drivers who want seats and mick schumacher, who is currently a merc reserve driver, all of which could be contenders for f1 seats. but one things for sure. this is going to be the silliest fucking silly season.

feel free to add on and peer review me

[authenticitysports]

Touch of Icarus

It's now just about four weeks after the marathon. I gave myself a good solid down period afterward, both to recover and to process. The race itself was disappointing, but also unsurprising. I knew I would be OK for 16-17 miles, and that anything afterward would be an adventure. True to form, the first 16 miles went great, I and I slowly came unglued between 17-20, before crashing hard from 21-24.

Race day was warm, and I was grateful for it at the start, but it probably hurt me during the run itself. I sweat a lot, so if it's too hot, I struggle to replenish the fluids and electrolytes. It was still much better than shivering at the start, so I was happy.

The first few miles were uneventful, except for the fact that the 3 hour pace group seemed to blast off up the road a solid 10 sec per mile ahead of schedule. My heart rate was alarmingly high for this early in the race, so I backed off, but I found myself staying right on pace for my goal of 3 hours.

At about 4 miles, my heart rate did not come down substantially, so I had to choose between pressing on or backing waaaay off. I really only did this race to try and give myself a shot at a BQ, so backing off never really seemed like an option. I knew what I could be in for, but decided to go for it anyway.

I know that I am in shape when I can instinctively feel a pace. My best sense is on the track, during intervals, and I can gauge the laps down to the second. On the roads, it's a natural rhythm that lets me feel the pace without knowing the pace. In this case, I felt that the three hour group was way too fast, and I let them get well up the road. Despite this, I came through half way in 1:30:00, on the dot. It was comically precise. I was definitely tired, but I might have a shot at this thing.

I made a quick restroom stop, got back running again quickly, and hit the next mile in 6:53, right back on pace. The stop was prudent, and I tried to ignore that I was starting to tire. The first time I really felt like I was "off pace" wasn't until mile 17 (7:01). It wasn't slow, but my heart rate had started to climb higher and the nine miles to the finish seemed very daunting.

I slowed gradually from 18-21, shuffling across the 14th Street Bridge. When I finally got down into Crystal City, though, that's when the fatigue and cramping really hit. I had overextended and was paying back for the effort. I walked a stoplight, then ran, then doubled over again as my hamstrings seized up. It was no longer about racing, just finishing. I got enough fluids down to shuffle the last two miles, staggering up the hill to the Marine Corps Memorial.

Stepping back, the race was certainly not what I wanted. I hoped to get a BQ and use the race as a springboard to another level of fitness and a return to racing. I knew, though, that the first goal was always going to be extremely ambitious, and that a six week marathon build was only a half or third of what I wanted.

But I am relieved to find that my body (still) responds to structured training, and that I was able to build fitness relatively quickly. The opening half of 1:30 would have been a challenge to me as a solo race in mid-July. I'm satisfied with the process, even if I'm not satisfied with the result, and so I am excited to get back to training in earnest.

I have at least one race next year picked out - the USAT Nationals in Atlantic City. I want to add in a couple of 5Ks, 10Ks, and maybe a few half marathons to keep that rhythm of racing. I would be interested in a spring marathon, but I'm not sure when or where. Kona is peaking over the horizon, but I can't commit the training volume for a full Ironman right now.

It's time for thinking, planning, dreaming, and training. Soon, there will be racing.

[slow-button-off]

Saubers love for Charles - a collection

Beat Zehnder

"Charles is very young and very motivated. One of the biggest talents that I have ever worked with. Probably one of the best newcomers in the last two decades."

Dts s1e8

"I've never seen a driver like Charles before", says Zehnder who worked together with Rookie Leclercs at Sauber in 2018. The team did have young drivers in their cars before. "But it was the first time in a long while that he had a newcomer, a very special driver with a very special attitude", says Zehnder.

"It was a very good season and a very interesting Season", he remembers and explains: " I've always said that [Leclerc] speed wise is like Kimi Raikkonen and in terms of attitude to work probably Michael [Schumacher]." The 54 year old is convinced : "give him a good car and he'll definitely become a champion."

source in 2020

"But in the end, bottom line – probably the most complete driver I've worked with. In terms of natural talent and racing intelligence. He is so focused. He is going to be a world champion."

Source 2022

Fred Vasseur

"I think a quality of Charles but actually of all champions is to the confident in the car. They can do the most unbelievable things sometimes because they possess so much confidence" , analyses Vasseur.

"They can blame themselves because they know that they have the potential. Those are the real Champions und they can then say: 'Ok, today I didn't drive well.'" only the Top driver are able to deal with bad performances like this believes the Alfa TP.

"only a champion is able to say something like this. On paper they are better than the others."

"That's great for a team because if this isn't the case then it could send you on the wrong path", adds Vasseur. He is really happy for Leclerc and his early success. He deserves it "200%".

"I am very happy for him, he drove a great season. Without Bahrain or other races it could've gone better but he did great work." Already in the second race of the season, the nightrace in the desert he was on track for his first win when a technical defect made him end up in third.

Especially his qualifying pace impressed Vasseur 2019. With seven pole positions he was pole king, no other driver started P1 more often. "The pace was incredibly, very impressive. He is the only one I keep and eye on."

source 2020

Only with Lewis Hamilton have I seen as much self-criticism as I saw with Charles Leclerc," Vasseur, now Alfa Romeo team boss, told Speed Week.

"They're the only drivers I saw in my career who criticised themselves even after winning. Every other driver pats himself on the shoulder. I mean - they won!

"But they both knew that they could have driven better. They were relentless in that way," Vasseur added.

source 2020

Having read these things and listened to his beyond the grid makes me think that they are quoting his beyond the grid episode somewhat but I'm not sure.

Josef Leberer (Physio of Senna (and long time friend) works for Sauber)

What was so special about Senna? “So many great drivers died before him: Clark, Rindt, Villeneuve. Ayrton was the sum of them all, their virtues were combined in him.” Josef’s eyes are shiny: “ Senna had charisma, was the perfect leader. Driven by his values and ideas.” Senna demands a lot but shows appreciation for performance especially towards his mechanics. The Brazilian knows how to motivate people. “But regardless he was shy. In the car however ruthless!” Interjects Jo. Only when the jokes arrived at McLaren alongside Gerhard Berger and they’re running the streets as a trio, does Senna open up.

Is there or was there a driver with a similar character to Senna? Jo is thinking hard. Not even close?

The answer is surprising: “Not in this special way. But in terms of appearance, humility, determination and maturity despite the young age - maybe Charles Leclerc.

source 2019

The Salzburg native, once long time physio of Ayrton Senna has seen a lot of talents. Of few talents does he hold as high of an opinion as he does of Leclerc. Leclerc reminds him of Senna at the start of his career Leberer told APA (Austrian Press Agency) already in May. The Monegasque has the skills to be a serial champion. "He is quiet, humble, talented and learns really fast." It's clear to him and many others: "Leclerc is 'the' figure of the future in Formula 1.

source 2019

What is he doing with this Charles Leclerc, so that he is mastering the biggest sporting challenge of his life with such a matter-of-factness? Leberers answer: "it's like it was with Senna: you could replace me with a Panda."

source 2018

if the source is German then I did the translation

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Wild and Warriors: The Epic Quest For Taco Bell at 3 am

@tortilla-of-courage so you mentioned you’d be interested in my Adoption AU one-shots, and now that things have calmed down in my house a bit I figured I’d post the first one-shot I wrote; the one about Wild and Warriors going for a Taco Bell run. Theoretically, I was going to do a one-shot for each grouping of boys, as an introduction, but I don’t think that’s happening anymore. Either way, here’s the first thing I wrote!

(And, anyone else who would like to be tagged if/when I post more for this AU, let me know here and I’ll make a list or something)

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

“anyone know any good substitutes for love and personal fulfilment?”

Warriors sent the tweet without much thought. He didn’t actually care about an answer, he just felt like venting about his most recent break up in a vague way, and thought he was being funny. He could already see Legend rolling his eyes.

His phone dinged a few times, one reply from Twilight, asking why he was up so late (which he’d responded to with the same inquiry, which had Twilight going silent), one from Legend mocking him, one from Hyrule trying to actually help. He was surprised how many of his brothers were up at this hour.

He dropped the phone on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t actually all that tired, probably a consequence of having all afternoon classes and a habit of leaving his work to the last minute. Eh, the first year was supposed to be mostly parties anyways. (Not that Time would ever find out he said that.)

His phone dinged again and he groaned, eying the clock and the small bottle of melatonin next to it. 2:43 am. He should sleep. He didn’t have anything tomorrow, he finished his last final earlier that afternoon, though, so a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

He picked up the phone and woke it up again. He blinked a few times at the new reply.

“crunchwrap supreme from taco bell”

He ignored Twilight yelling at Wild for being up, as apparently Wild did have a final tomorrow still. Not that Wild was paying any more attention.

He snorted, hitting the like button on Wild’s tweet and clicking off his phone. He reached up to stretch, yawning as he did. He eyed the melatonin bottle again. Technically, he didn’t need the supplements to sleep, but with how messed up his sleep schedule was, they did help him knock out when he planned on sleeping at a reasonable hour. This wasn’t a reasonable hour, but sleepiness hadn’t set in yet either.

Before he could decide, his phone lit up with a text notification. He tilted his head back and pointed his phone down to look at instead of dropping his arms.

Gordon Ramsey 2:44 am

lets go

Warriors blinked once. Then again. He unlocked his phone to type back.

what?????? go where?????

A second passed when he got a reply.

taco bell

for your substitute for love

since you got dumped and need something

oops was that too soon

sorry 

Warriors blinked at the screen again. Wild lived twenty minutes away from the university Warriors was attending, and the nearest Taco Bell was no closer. Plus, Time had revoked Wild’s driving privileges after he crashed his bike into the barn and broke both and his arm. There was no way Wild was getting to the university, much less a fast food joint. Especially at this hour.

and how do you plan to do that? You aren’t allowed to drive yet Mr. Broken Arm

you have a care

*car

That was a very good point.

you are suggesting that I drive 20mins outside of town to pick you up, drive another 20mins back into town, then drive around downtown until we find an open taco bell, at 3am on a school night before you have a final?

There was a few seconds pause, just long enough for Warriors to consider that he’d given up on it.

no

we wont be driving all over town

i googled it and found one

its like 10mins form your collage

*from

*college

Warriors considered that.

twilight won’t be happy

only if he finds out

Wild made a very good point.

how do you plan to get out of the house without him noticing?

i have a window war

The response was so immediate, and he was probably sleep deprived enough, that he burst out laughing when it sent.

20mins

He clicked his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, grabbing a jacket and his scarf on the way out of his room. He was struggling to shrug them both on at once when he realized his roommate was still up too. There was a tense staredown as their eyes met and they both froze.

Volga broke the standoff by closing his book. “And where are you going at this hour?”

Warriors considered that. “My brother bribed me with food to break him out of the house,”

“At,” he glanced at his watch, “two forty-nine am?”

“Yes,”

The silence was tense.

Volga sighed and opened his book again. “Don’t crash and die, I’d hate to have to get a new roommate when I’ve finally gotten used to you,”

“Don’t burn the dorm down while I’m gone,” Warriors joked back, finally getting the fabric to work with him.

“It happened once, and it’s not like you’re any better at cooking!”

“I don’t set what I make on fire, and then freak out and throw it when blowing out that fire doesn’t work,” he grabbed his keys from the dish by the door and waved behind him.

“It happened once, Link!”

“And it’s why we order out now,” he grinned, ducking out the door. “See you later, Volg, be back in an hour or so,”

He could hear Volga’s angry shout through the door, so hurried down the stairs to the ground level as quickly as he could, before Volga woke their neighbor again.

He was still giggling when he got to the parking lot. Volga was just too easy to rile up.

The cool night air woke him up a little more so, and he took a deep breath as he located his car. A hand-me-down vehicle, he inherited it from Time when he was old enough to drive. Mostly this was so he could stop asking everyone else for their cars when he wanted to go somewhere. A little elbow grease however, and no one could tell it was at least 20 years old and not fresh off the lot. He made sure none of his brothers were allowed to drive it, especially after Wild got his bike stuck in a tree, or Legend crashed into a lake, or Twilight picked up drag racing, or Wild got his bike stuck on the roof, or Hyrule lost his car, or Four rolled his truck, or Wild and the barn literally last week. A lot of the crashes in the family came from Wild going ‘oh yeah? Watch this!’ now that he thought about it. It was a miracle he still had the same bike.

The twenty minute drive to the farm was pretty boring, nothing of note really happening.

He turned off his headlights as he pulled into the drive, not wanting to wake anyone, especially Time, up. He shot off a quick text to Wild when he parked.

A window opened and Legend’s head poked out to glare at him. His phone dinged.

Royal Pain 3:12 am

what are you doing here?

He glared back at Legend and typed out a response.

taco bell run

Legend glanced down, presumably at his phone, then back up a Warriors with an incredulous expression.

at 3am????

and if so why are you /here/????

Warriors pointedly looked around the house where Wild emerged from the bushes. Said brother grinned and popped open the passenger door to climb in.

“Hey,” he grinned. His hair was a mess, with at least two visible sticks stuck in it, and he was still in his sleep clothes. Despite this, he seemed fine.

“Legend has us made,” Warriors nodded to their brother, who was still glaring with his head out the window.

Royal Pain 3:15 am

twilight won’t be happy about this

Warriors frowned, trying to shield his phone from Wild as he typed back.

twilight won’t know

Warriors did not like the look in Legend’s eyes as he got the next text.

unless i tell him

Warriors glared up at his brother, working his jaw.

what do you want?

He hated the pleased grin Legend shot him.

the most expensive thing on the menu on your dime

fine

Warriors shoved his phone away with a growl, flipping off the overly smug Legend as he put the car in gear. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“What was that about?” Wild asked.

“We’re buying him food too now,” Warriors growled, flicking back on his headlights.

“Oh, cool,” Wild leaned back into the seat and pulled out his phone. “So the Taco Bell we’re going to only has the drive thru open, and it’s just off main street,”

Warriors nodded, focussing on the road and not that Wild had found the aux cord.

About thirty minutes later, as Wild finally turned down the music to provide directions, he snapped and turned to Warriors mid direction. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

Warriors blinked. “Maybe when we stop, I’m not crashing to sign your cast right now.”

Wild nodded, and pointed across Warriors at the street they had to go down.

They pulled into the drive thru and ordered, then had to wait for the very expensive thing Legend wanted. Warriors turned to Wild as the car idled.

“Do you have a marker?”

Wild blinked at him, then brightened up and offered out a sharpie and his right arm. The cast, under the signatures and well wishes of their family and all of Wild’s friends, was painted in very poorly drawn flames. Warriors raised an eyebrow as he searched for a clear spot to sign.

“Hyrule painted it for me,” Wild explained with a grin.

“Ah,” Warriors hummed as he finally tracked down an empty space by Wild’s elbow.

He scrawled out his name, not much room for anything else, and then handed the capped sharpie back to Wild while he twisted around to accept the food from the drive thru worker.

He shot off a text to Legend to let him know they had his food, alongside an upset emoji. Legend sent him a devil face emoji back. Wild dug through the bag for his food, sharpie stuck in his hair alongside the twigs, which seemed to be multiplying.

Warriors rolled his eyes and pulled back onto the road.

At some point, Wild pulled the wrap out and handed it to Warriors, who ate one handed as he drove. Wild was right about one thing, the wrap did taste very good.

He pulled into the drive of the farmhouse, headlights off, just as he finished off the wrap. He phone dinged the second he put the car in park.

Royal Pain 3:58 am

where’s my food bitch

Warriors looked up to the window where Legend was leaning out and glaring at him.

Wild laughed at the surly look on Legend’s face, climbing out and taking the bag with him. “I’ll feed him,” he promised, grinning. “Thanks for the trip, War!”

“No problem,” Warriors grinned back. “Just make sure you get to bed once you’re inside, so Twi doesn’t suspect in the morning,”

Wild gave him a thumbs up. He shut the door a little too hard, making Warriors wince, and bounced up to throw the bag up to Legend. Legend caught it the second time, when Wild opted to use his not broken arm to toss it, and disappeared inside again. Warriors’ phone dinged again a few seconds later.

Royal Pain 4:00 am

thanks pretty boy

your secret is safe with me

for now

Warriors rolled his eyes and sent him a thumbs up back, then pulled out of the drive again to head back to campus. He was actually starting to feel tired now, so he figured he’d get home and just crash. It’d be like, 4:30 in the morning by then, and he was pretty sure Volga would be asleep. And if he wasn’t, they had a rule that after 4 am until 7 they were allowed to ignore each other, so it’d be fine.

Volga was asleep when Warriors snuck in, passed out in a chair with the book on his chest. Warriors took the sight in, then sighed.

He dropped his keys in the dish, then pulled off his jacket and scarf to hang in his room. He grabbed a bookmark off his shelf and wandered back out to pull the book off of Volga’s chest and set it down so the spine wouldn’t crease. He left Volga like that, however. He didn’t want the books to get damaged, but if Volga was dumb enough to fall asleep in the common room without a blanket, then he deserved what he woke up with.

He was very lucky that Warriors was too tired to find a sharpie.

He fell asleep before remembering to take off his shoes.

(---)

The next morning, so about noon, he was woken by Volga pounding on the door to put his phone on silent.

His phone buzzed on the desk next to him and he pulled it off and up to his head, hitting answer before looking at the contact.

“Hullo?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“Twilight knows,” Legend greeted him.

“What?” Warriors sat up, groaning as his back complained from sleeping on his stomach all night. It took a second for his brain to catch up.

“Twilight knows,” Legend repeated. “Hyrule sold you out, unintentionally, and I can hear him selling you both out to Time,”

Warriors blanched as the words registered. “Oh shit,” he threw himself out of bed, hissing as he realized he slept fully dressed, and scrambled for the things he’d need in order to flee. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes if you get lucky and Wind pulls through, less if not,”

Warriors cursed under his breath as he changed his shirt and tried to make it look like he hadn’t been sleeping in what he was wearing. “Thanks for the heads up, I’d say I owe you but,”

“You’d rather not owe me,”

“Yeah,”

“Look, if you get caught and cave, I go down too. This is self-preservation. Don’t cave and we’re even.”

“Got it, I won’t,”

“You better not,” Legend hissed. “Good luck,”

“Thanks,” Warriors nodded, even though Legend couldn’t see him.

He tossed the phone on his dresser as the line went dead and he went about trying to comb through his hair so he looked presentable.

A hard knock on his door came a few seconds later.

“I put my phone on vibrate, Volga!” He shouted through the door. “You can drop it now!”

“Link?”

Warriors paused, then opened the door. Lana, Impa and Artemis waited on the other side, Volga glaring at them and hovering behind them.

Warriors blinked dumbly at them. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi Link! Good morning!” Lana grinned and waved at him.

“It’s noon,” Impa reminded the group, eying Warriors up and down.

“Oh, right,” Lana nodded, then went back to grinning at him. “Good noon, Link!”

He snorted and shook his head to clear it. “Good noon to you too, Lana. Can I ask what you’re all doing here?”

“We were hoping you’d join us for something,” Artemis smiled at him, also looking him over, trying to find whatever Impa had picked up on. “We’re going on a small road trip since all our finals are over, and we were planning on hitting a few different cities over the week,”

“Mhm,” Lana nodded quickly. “We’re leaving today, and are taking no calls until we get back, and we’re camping in the car, which is why we’re using my van, and we were hoping you’d come with us,”

“I’m in,”

The three girls blinked at him. Maybe he answered too fast, but taking no calls, meaning no contact with his family, for a week gave them time to move past this, and he really didn’t want to deal with a lecture from Time. His friends just offered him asylum, whether they knew it or not.

Impa narrowed her eyes. “What happened with your family?” She asked, already onto him.

“Nothing that’s my fault,” he responded, ducking back into his room. “What should I bring with?”

Lana listed off what they figured they’d take and he pulled out a suitcase, nodding along as he started packing. He fired off a text to the group chat as he grabbed his jacket, tossed over one arm, and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

World’s Best Captain 11:39 am

Leaving on a road trip with some friends. Be back in a week, but I can’t take calls until I’m back. Don’t kill each other!

He put his phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket.

He might have a hellish text backlog when he got back, but it’d be better than the lecture from Time. And besides, he got to spend a week with the best girls he knew.

As far as he was concerned, everything worked out win-win for him.

Wild was right, the crunchwrap supreme from Taco Bell did work wonders in supplying love and personal fulfilment, even if not in the way he meant it.

He made a note to get Wild something as thanks while they were out. Maybe some crash pads. Goddesses knew that his brother needed them.

[retrievablememories]

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

--

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app. 

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :) 

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos 

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

--

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take. 

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” 

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...” 

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human. 

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards. 

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

--

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

--

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

--

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway. 

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust. 

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button. 

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

[gojo-x-reader]

Confessions in a Drunken Night

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: excessive drinking, mentions of sex (not related to drinking), getting drunk, job stress

Tags: communication is key

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~2k

Request:   “ Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I have read your scenarios and I fell in love with them They are so cute and adorable . If you take a request would you mind taking mine. About a f/reader who is depressed about her job pressure and Gojo not being home lately so she would be drinking at home not knowing that Gojo had arrived and was sleeping and he would wake up because of sound and he would find her saoul , and he would try to make up with her , with a lot of fluff please , thank you .”

You heard the door hurriedly slam from the other room and sighed. This was the third time just this week alone that date night was interrupted with you and your boyfriend, Satoru. Every time, he promised that nothing would come up, but every time something did. You didn’t understand why exactly his job was so important for him to just leave like that. He was just a high school teacher. 

You sighed again, then picked up the uneaten dinner you cooked for the both of you. You placed the food in containers for later, if there was a later with him. You might end up eating both portions by yourself. You finished up cleaning up the romantic date you had prepared, now incredibly sad and frustrated. 

You started pouring yourself a glass of whiskey. You weren’t a fan of the stuff straight, but tonight seemed like the night to drink. How many hours of overtime did you put in this week just to try to have an evening off to spend with your boyfriend? How much sleep did you lose just to stay ahead? How many times did your boss scoff because you asked off not one night, but three nights this week? You’d be lucky if you could get another night off in a month after this week. 

You sipped on the whiskey, cherishing the warmth it brought to your core. You grabbed the bottle and glass and took them the to couch. The whiskey bottle was less than halfway finished; might as well finish it tonight. You lounged on the couch as you brought the glass to your lips and reminisced about your relationship with Satoru.

You had been together for over a year now, but it didn’t feel like it. You were practically in a long-distance relationship, despite only living twenty minutes from each other with how scarce you got to see him. He was always busy on “business trips” or whatever for his job. The thought that he was cheating on you crossed your mind a time or two, but Satoru didn’t seem like the type. 

The two of you met in your favorite bakery just down the street. You had fought over the last piece of tiramisu, which he eventually gave you in exchange for your number. He was incredibly easy to talk to and within a few weeks, the two of you were going on your first date. He was suave, but you soon learned that was just a front he put up. The true Gojo Satoru was a dork with an almost insufferable personality that somehow you were able to stand. 

You were sure that in the year you had been dating, you had only gone on three successful dates with Satoru and well over fifteen attempted dates. The three successful dates all had a special place in your heart.

The first successful date was your first date. It was a cozy café date followed by a nice walk through the nooks and crannies of Tokyo you never saw on your work commute. You remembered how you gained the confidence to hold Satoru’s hand on the first date, only feeling like there was a literal wall between you two for a few seconds. It was strange, but it was the only incident, so you never brought it up to him. 

The second successful date was a few months later with another failed attempt in between the first and second. This one was a trip to a fancy restaurant in the heart of Tokyo. This was the date you learned that your boyfriend was loaded. Not just well off, but rich enough he could spend a couple hundred thousand Yen and it was just pocket change to him. Somehow, the reveal left more questions than answered them; namely, how did he become so rich with a teacher’s salary? Was he part of some kind of Old Money or something?

 He never told you where you were dining, so of course, you dressed like it was a casual outing. Before heading to the restaurant, he bought you a dress that was worth more than two years of your yearly salary (against your protests). It was a gorgeous dress, in your favorite color. It still hung in your closet; while you wanted to sell it for some extra money, you didn’t want to upset Satoru. 

The third and final successful date was your first anniversary. Neither of you wanted to go out, so you both stayed in. The two of you cooked dinner together; you were pleasantly surprised to learn that Satoru had a talent for cooking and wanted to taste more of his cooking. He insisted you were a much better cook than him, but you disagreed. 

After dinner, one thing led to another until you were swept off your feet literally to the bedroom. 

You smiled fondly at the memories of your first time together. It was only two months ago, but nothing had happened since then even though you desperately wanted a repeat of your anniversary tonight. Ah, you remembered why you were drinking. You swallowed the rest of the whiskey in your glass, grimacing as it burned in your throat.

You were already tipsy after one glass. You were a lightweight; you were sure you would be shit-faced before the end of this bottle. Satoru never drank, yet he always had the audacity to make fun of how much of a lightweight you were. 

Who knows how long passed before you finally swallowed the last drop of whiskey. At that point, you were fighting your eyelids that were trying to close. Without Satoru there to entertain you as you were tipsy, you became a tired drunk. You just wanted to go to sleep but didn’t want to leave the couch. If you got up, you’d probably stumble and fall back anyway. So, you grabbed the blanket draped across the couch and wrapped yourself around it.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over you right as you closed your eyes. You missed Satoru, desperately. It felt physically painful being away from him at the moment. You brought a hand up to your eyes and wiped them, rolling over and finally going to sleep for good. 

You woke up to the feeling of someone shaking your form. You groaned. Your head was pounding from dehydration, you were still sleepy from the alcohol; who dared interrupt your sleep?

You blinked a few times to find Satoru and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you. He appeared slightly worried, but also tired.

“Time?” you asked, not even forming coherent sentences yet.

“Almost 3am,” Satoru answered.

You groaned. “Let me sleep.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Does it matter?” you snapped back. You then realized how hostile you sounded, then started crying. “Please don’t be mad at me,” you said between hiccups. 

Satoru took you into his arms, soothingly rubbing your back to calm you down. You suddenly felt worse because you were a mess, just because he left for an emergency with work? Pathetic. 

Your sweet, incredible boyfriend helped you slowly sit up, then obtained a glass of water for you to drink. You chugged it, not even realizing how thirsty you were. Satoru refilled it for you, urging you to instead sip the water. 

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asked as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“...Nothing,” you answered.

“Nothing? I come home to find my girlfriend passed out on the couch drunk off her ass and sad. You’re upset, and I want us to work through this. Now, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sad,” you admitted. 

“Obviously.”

“I don’t feel like you--” hic “--love me as much anymore. You keep leaving during our dates, you don’t spend much time with me anymore, and my job is just so stressful because I keep having to work overtime to get days off and I doubt I can get another day off for a month now. That just makes me so fucking sad because I wanna see you every day but I can’t--” 

Satoru gently placed a hand on your cheek. His gaze was filled with so much love it rendered you speechless. “That all?” he asked. You nodded.

Satoru tenderly placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” he admitted. Suddenly, your brain raced through all of the possibilities, fixating on the idea he was cheating on you. Oh, no, here it comes… 

“I’m a jujutsu sorcerer.”

“Excuse me?”

That was not at all what you were expecting. What did that even mean?

Satoru backed away. “Here, try to grab my hand.”

You reached out to him, feeling the familiar wall like you did on your first date. “Oh!”

“This is Infinity,” he explained. “As you get closer to me, you slow down, unable to reach me. It’s a jujutsu passed down through my family.”

“I think I’ve felt it before. On our first date.”

Satoru sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I always keep my Infinity going at all times, 24/7, even when I’m asleep. I only let down my guard around you because I trust you with my life.”

“So. What does this all mean? What else are you keeping a secret? Your job too?”

“No, I really am a high school teacher. For the first years, to be exact. The bunch this year are… interesting to say the least. So I’ve been having to stay late to train them, and I actually do go on business trips. A lot of them are overseas.” 

“What are they for?” You were now very invested in your boyfriend’s secret life he had been hiding from you all this time.

“We exorcise curses.”

“Curses?”

“The evil beings of the jujutsu world. I have to go on more missions than the average person because I’m one of the very few Special Grade jujutsu sorcerers in the world. It’s the highest rank a jujutsu sorcerer can reach. And your boyfriend is the strongest in the world.”

“Are you really, or are you self-proclaimed?” you asked, knowing his personality. Satoru pouted. You pinched one of his cheeks gently, then dragged his face to your lips, pressing them against his cheek. “I’m just kidding.”

“I really am the strongest, though,” Satoru continued to pout. “Anyway! I think it’s time for us to sleep. Tomorrow, I can take you to see my school and you can meet my students!”

“Really?” you asked, excited. Finally, your boyfriend was allowing you into the part of his world you were always curious about.

“Really,” he promised. 

You yawned. The sun was just starting to peek through your windows. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and carried to your room. You weren’t quite sober and made sure to warn Satoru about that, lest he moved you too fast and caused you to throw up on the two of you. 

(“It wouldn’t get on me, though,” Satoru argued. “I can just activate my Infinity and I’ll stay clean.”)

Satoru tucked you into your bed, then made his way to your side. You were actually kind of glad you decided to get drunk tonight, as the liquid courage gave you the confidence to speak your mind to your boyfriend instead of keeping your feelings inside like usual. Tonight, you learned a side of your boyfriend you never thought existed. It brought you relief and curiosity to learn more about him and his life. 

But for now, you needed sleep. Meeting part of Satoru’s world could wait until tomorrow. 

[coochiequeens]

Wouldn’t real Christians want to help the birth families so they can keep their kids?

In the immediate wake of the Supreme Court decision overturning Roe v. Wade, social media filled with images and memes playing off a viral tweet: A clean-cut couple beams at the camera while standing outside the Supreme Court building and holding a sign reading “We will adopt your baby.” (Slate has the full story on the couple featured in that photo.)

In a post-Roe world, there is already a renewed focus on adoption as a supposed solution for unwanted pregnancies. Indeed, in the arguments before the Supreme Court last year, Justice Amy Coney Barrett suggested that adoption is a foolproof substitution for abortion. Yet the rhetoric around adoption too rarely takes into consideration the person having the baby who will be adopted.

Kathryn Joyce, an investigative reporter at Salon, has been covering adoption in America for over a decade. Her book The Child Catchers is one of the best ever written about the messy intersections of capitalism, Christianity, and adoption, digging deep into the ways the adoption industry wrings every dollar it can out of an incredibly fragile period in the lives of everyone it touches. (Disclosure: I am adopted.)

Joyce and I talked recently about adoption rhetoric at a time when American reproductive rights have been gutted. That rhetoric touches on so many other aspects of American life, most notably race and class.

“For decades now, there’s been a pro-choice rejoinder to anti-abortion activists: What are you going to do with all these extra kids you want to see born? Are you prepared to adopt all these kids?” Joyce said. “And the answer is: kind of? A lot of people will say, ‘That’s exactly what we want.’”

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. 

Photos of couples holding signs saying “We will adopt your baby” have been propagating on Twitter in the past few weeks. As somebody who’s covered this world extensively, how do images like that intersect with your work?

It feels like conversations about adoption that for a very long time were happening in the margins of discussion about reproductive rights are very much more a mainstream discussion. What’s interesting is there have been a few other moments where there has been a similar, if time-bound, recognition of this issue.

In my book, I wrote about what happened in Haiti after the devastating earthquake in 2010. There was this immense rush to not just expedite adoptions that were in process but to open up expedited adoption procedures to any child who was in institutional care in the country, even though welfare experts and even some of the more responsible adoption agencies were saying, “When the country is in complete disarray is not the time to start rushing things.” As part of that, Laura Silsby, a Baptist missionary from Idaho, wrote this extremely blunt and kind of ghoulish plan that she was going to gather [Haitian] children off the street. Ultimately, they were going to be offered for international adoption. The boldness and bleakness of that grabbed people’s attention.

Also, in 2018, when the family separation crisis at the border began to get a lot of notice, there were people who suddenly paid a lot of attention to the fact that one of the largest adoption agencies in the country, Bethany Christian Services, had been contracted by the government to offer a form of foster care for these children. People started asking: What are they going to do with these children that they’re taking away from their parents? Are they going to be offering these children for adoption?

In the aftermath of the Supreme Court overturning Roe, there’s this similarly blunt thing that happened. Two Supreme Court justices — Samuel Alito in his opinion and Amy Coney Barrett in her arguments last winter — made the argument that abortion is not needed because we’ve got adoption. Right-wing politicians have said that adoption is the answer to unplanned pregnancies. And then you have people showing up with celebratory signs and big smiles that say “We will adopt your baby.” That makes it too hard to ignore for a lot of people who weren’t really well-versed in those dynamics.

Your book primarily (but not exclusively) deals with international adoption, especially evangelical Christian families adopting children, sometimes lots of them, from overseas. How does domestic adoption fit into that picture?

The movement’s rhetoric as a whole is this idea that by adopting, you’re doing something more than just building a family. You are also solving the problem of abortion, because in their mind, you are providing the answer to unplanned pregnancy. Adoption is seen as a seamless solution.

Poverty is the common denominator here. One family is being broken apart for reasons that ultimately boil down to poverty in various complicated ways. Usually, much wealthier families are being created out of a piece of that first family.

When I was doing my reporting for the book, I spoke to the director of an adoption agency in the Pacific Northwest that prided itself on being very open and trying to avoid a lot of the ethical problems that have plagued other adoption agencies. She told me that if you look at all different forms of adoption, the one thing they have in common is the birth mother is invisible. You’re erasing not just the birth mother but the entire family of origin. They’re sometimes seen as the source of a product, as crass as that sounds. It’s how a lot of adoptees have ended up feeling — like a product or a supply.

And these ideas make those families of origin invisible by making them part of a broad caricature. If it’s domestic adoption, it’s got to be some messed-up family or substance-addicted family or abusive family. Or careless, feckless young parents who weren’t responsible. On the flipside, they’re made into these angels who have given the ultimate sacrifice. But they’re never looked at as individual people who, with different resources and support, might have made a different choice.

Internationally, you see a similar thing. The families of origin had been treated for a long time as a terrible situation from which children were rescued, or they were written about in some kind of third-world tragedy terms.

How do you think this intersects with race?

Sometimes in the rhetoric around international adoptions, there’s what a lot of people would characterize as “white saviorism”: These children were thrown away, and the adoptive parents or the 

church has come along to redeem them. A lot of times, those ideas will involve some fairly severe denigration of the country, the culture, or the family that the children came from.

If you look at the earthquake in Haiti in 2010, there was an extreme version of that rhetoric, with people talking about Haiti as this doomed or even satanic country. There was a sense of saving these children from growing up in that country. And the leaders of Haiti pointed out at the time, “What are you saying about our country if you say the only chance our children have is to be taken out of it?”

In the last 20 years, transracial adoptees in particular have talked about their experiences with this. Generational waves of adoptees of a certain age come from a particular country because that country was a hot spot adoption center at the time. So there is this older wave of Korean American adoptees [from the 1980s] who were pioneers in a lot of this research and advocacy. They talk about having many times grown up in an area where they were the only person of color. And Black or Latinx adoptees, whether they were adopted domestically or internationally, say similar things.

Even adoptees who had really happy situations and were close with their adoptive family will say that something that was missing was the understanding of what it would be like to grow up a person of color in a largely white community.

See rest of article

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.