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A Caribbean Island That Welcomes Digital Nomads For One Year...
If you're looking for practical and sustainable ways to live abroad; you may want to participate, in the work visa revolution...
#trending#readmore#fortheculture#entrepreneurship#latest remote work news#headlines#work visa#live abroad#travelpreneur#thedigitaldigest🗞️#digitalculture#social media#aos#aceupdates#repost#travel path
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StartACareerToday - Amazon Flex - Spanish - CPL . Sign up and find Amazon flex! Conversion will be happen after email submit >> https://amz-sp.jobseweb.com/?pub=8812
#government jobs#govt jobs#jobs#latest jobs#new job#online jobs#steve jobs#part time jobs#part time job#best part time jobs#remote part time jobs#part time jobs for students#part time job at home#part time jobs from home#part time works#part time income#part time remote night jobs#ways for a part time works#part time#part time income jobs#mobile part time jobs#part time jobs in mobile#part time jobs in telugu#part time wage#jio part time job#working part time#best part time job#latest part time jobs in telugu#tgerg#part time jobs in usa
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I don't like that my watch isn't accurate with my step count like i have been walking around all morning doing stuff and it said 0 up until like an hour ago now it's only saying 373 it's defs way more than that but also google ceo can die before I purchase another fucking watch
Also the fitbit app isn't reliable at all anymore and will often show yesterdays stats as todays and it won't save if you log weight updates and will pick random days when u log food there are no upsides it's just miserable to use
#ive had 2 fitbits and google bricked them with an update to make you buy the latest ver or the pixel watch#fitbit has gone to shit since google bought them out#and i was given a second hand pixel watch and it has been a nightmare the entire time ive had it#i would buy an apple watch but i dont have an iphone and its also like 3x the price of every other brand#im so over capitalism this shit sucks i just want tech that works and wont be remotely bricked once a new model is out
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This kind of disappeared for me when I started making as much art as possible. Like writing, the old adage is unfortunately right: The more you do it, the more you get used to it. For me it was that at least, because my panic was completely tied to how good I was at it (in my own perception). I still have this feeling with YouTube, because I haven't done enough videos, which is bad, but I also struggled A LOT with writing until I started writing fanfic more often, which was less pressure for me. I made a rule that I can't put as much effort into it as I do original fiction---and then this made me wanna write more original stuff because I was less afraid of mistakes.
Again, this is totally a me thing and might not be the problem in general, you might do a lot of art, but it worked for me.
Genuine Question For Artists:
Does anyone else experience elevated heart rate/irrational fear and panic when trying to draw? This is something I struggle greatly with, and no chemical or therapy treatment has yet helped me.
#I also do a lot of stuff that's out of my comfort zone and that made me more or less ok with working in absolute fear and panic#I started teaching myself that fear was good because it meant I was making new things happen or making progress in a way#yeah I'm insane#but also it helped me a lot#I barely have any fear or any of my own self attached to my art in the sense of self worth#but if I'm fair nowadays my art isn't the best expression of me it's a little more remote but it is my coping mechanism#when it comes to writing like I said I'm getting better but I posted my latest youtube video and had a panic attack for real#it's normal#there is no such thing as art without some level of fear cause it's really intimate#we must go against it until it becomes a part of us#or whatever cause then again it might not even be your problem (but I hope it helped anyway)#I also still feel like other people's art is much better than mine#like infinitely better#that doesn't go away but you get better#wmp.txt
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader
Word Count: 1408
Summary: You begin your new job as a Tornado Wrangler (remotely), and meet most of the team. It isn't until you suffer a little mishap that you meet the man himself.
A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful response to the Prologue!!! I didn't think it'd be that much of a hit, so I was surprised with all the love. After finishing this chapter, I feel like it could've been part of the Prologue, but oh well. It's been a while since I've written as well, so bear with me. As always, thanks to my awesome beta, @buckysdollforlife, for their help with this and for creating the header for this story (I LOVE IT!!!!) and bestie, @13braincellsonly, for allowing me the use of their son's name and personality when I needed to come up with a horse. **All descriptions of Ziggy the horse were approved by his momma.** And as always, I will be cross-posting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen.
City Girl Knows Her Stuff
You became a Wrangler near the end of the season that first year. Kate picked you up at the airport with two members of the team: Lily and Dani. Lily immediately pulled you into a hug, chatting a mile a minute about how excited she was to have you on the team. Dani (perhaps picking up on your shyness) offered a handshake and big smile, welcoming you to Oklahoma. Kate was more than happy to let Dani and Lily talk your ear off on the drive to Sapulpa, where you’d be staying with Cathy until you found a place. She knew it was somewhat difficult for you to make friends, so she was happy to see you enjoying a conversation with two new friends.
You got to meet Dexter when he came by in the van to pick up Lily and Dani. You thought he was funny and enjoyed some very science-centric conversations with him. Before they all left, Lily let you take her drone for a spin. You enjoyed it so much that for your birthday later that year, she gifted you a smaller drone that wasn’t quite like hers, but it had a small camera and small, tinny sounding speaker. She even had it painted in your favorite color. That would become one of your absolute favorite gifts. It made you cry.
Like most storm chasers, you had to have a job in the off season, so you got a remote data analyst job with the NOAA offices in Norman and moved out to a place just out of Sapulpa. This would allow you to visit Cathy at the farm and work on data in the barn workshop the Wranglers had set up. You even got yourself a cat. Abandoned due to his looks and runt status (according to the shelter), you snatched him up the first time you saw him. Black cats didn’t scare you. Life with Roach (you’d spent quite a bit of time watching The Witcher) was idyllic and you were happy.
By the time you met Boone, the Wranglers felt like family…and Boone felt like the brother you never had. Like Boone, you were an only child and didn’t have much of an extended family and it was a bit lonely in the beginning. The difference, however, was that Boone was an outgoing guy and it was easy for him to make friends and talk to people he didn’t know, whereas that scared you half to death most of the time. You loved his boisterous way of being, but you also appreciated that he (like Dani) could tell when your social battery had run down and turned it down and would sometimes sit with you in a quiet environment. Sometimes he’d sit and nap while you read or he’d pick up the latest meteorological article (or sometimes the latest comic he picked up at the shop). He didn’t even make fun of your nickname like others had before, so you trusted him.
The day of Cathy’s pre-tornado season bbq, while cleaning some dishes, you confessed to Boone that you were nervous about meeting the head tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens.
“T’s a sweetheart B, you got nothin’ to worry about. Why are ya nervous?”
“Boone! He doesn’t know me, what if he doesn’t think I’m a right fit for the team? What if he doesn’t like how I do work? Y’all are famous ‘round here, what if he gets irked by the fact that big crowds make me nervous and it takes me forever to become comfortable with people? You know it’s not easy for me to talk to people I’ve never talked to before”, you cried in exasperation.
“B, imma need you to take a breath, okay?” Boone reassured you as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “If Ty thought any of those things, I would definitely not be workin’ with ‘em.”
You were so busy trying to get yourself to relax that you missed Kate wandering into the kitchen.
“B, are you freakin’ out about meetin’ Tyler again?” she asked. You and Boone nodded. “Well, you don’t have to worry. He won’t be able to come today, said he had to drive down to Texas to see his parents.”
You breathed out a sigh of relief, sending some of your hair floating up. “Good, I have time to relax about it. Thanks Kate.”
“Thank Tyler’s parents.”
“Thank you, Mr. & Mrs. Owens!” you said to no one in particular and dried your hands, as you looked over at your friends. “See you two out there!”
Kate and Boone followed, but stayed on the porch, both taking twin sips from their beers.
“You think either of them has any idea what’s about to happen to ‘em?” Boone asked.
“Meaning that Tyler is going to become enamored the second she opens her mouth?”
“Yup.”
“And that she’s going to have the same thing happen to her the second she comes into contact with that cocky cowboy swagger that he exudes when you meet him the first time?”
“Yup.”
“No, I don’t think either of ‘em knows what’s coming.”
A few days before the chasing season began, you brought Roach down to Cathy’s, where he would be staying while you were out with the Wranglers for your first season on the road.
While there, you asked Cathy if you could saddle up your favorite of her horses, Zig, nicknamed Ziggy. He wasn’t the brightest of the bunch; he was the type of horse you’d see in a video because someone thought he was dead but in actuality, he was just sleeping. You swore that his mother, a horse named KJ, rolled her horse eyes every time someone caught him playing dead.
Ziggy may not have been the sharpest pitchfork in the barn, and may not have enjoyed doing much of anything besides looking dead when he slept, but he enjoyed riding through fields with you. He knew whenever he saw you approaching with a bowl that he was about to get one of his favorite snacks: ice cubes with apple bits in them. You put Ziggy’s snack bucket down so he could munch while you brushed him and got him saddled and ready to go for a ride.
When Ziggy let you know that he was done with his snack, you popped in your earbuds and shuffled your favorite classical music playlist on Spotify. You found it was one of your favorite ways to relax. After you climbed on Ziggy’s back, and kicked him into gear, you took off for the open fields near the road leading up to the farm.
You’d been out there for a while when you started hearing the faint rumble of an engine, but ignored it because trucks passed near this area all the time. You probably shouldn’t have ignored it though, because when that modified-to-withstand-tornadoes red Dodge Ram 3500 turned on to the road and took off towards the main house, Ziggy took off after it. By now, you shouldn’t have been surprised that he recognized the truck or the person in it, but you were…and because you were so thrown off by it, your hands (stupidly) had not been holding the reins. And because you had not held on, you went flying off Ziggy’s back while he just followed the familiar truck. Lucky for you, the fall didn’t cause you to go unconscious, but it did knock the wind out of you after you landed hard on your back.
As you attempted to take deep breaths, you heard someone yelling and running towards you, so you tried to sit up. The voice yelled for you to not move, so you listened and stayed on the ground, with your eyes shut. You just lay there, waiting.
All of a sudden:
“Are you okay?” the voice asked. You knew that you knew who the voice belonged to but you were so thrown by being thrown that your brain wasn’t focusing. You blinked your eyes open, and your vision swam before focusing on the most beautiful face.
“Wha-”
“Are you okay, darlin’?” he asked as he helped you sit up.
“Uh…”
“Did you black out?”
“No.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Cathy’s farm, in Sapulpa.”
“Do you know your name?” He smiled when you told him. “Where’d you come in from?”
“New York City.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m the new data analyst for the Wranglers.”
“Well…looks like we got another city girl that knows her stuff.”
Tagging: @ladybirdbeetle7 @omgbrianab @itsdesiree86 @avengersfan25 @keyrani @thedonswife13 @lonelyghosts-stuff
DON'T FORGET TO LIKE AND REBLOG!!!!
Main Masterlist
#Series: Steal My Thunder#Tyler Owens#Tyler Owens x you#Tyler Owens x reader#Tyler Owens x female reader#Tyler Owens x shy!reader#Tyler Owens x insecure!reader#Tyler Owens fanfiction
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"Millions of Australians just got official permission to ignore their bosses outside of working hours, thanks to a new law enshrining their "right to disconnect."
The law doesn't strictly prohibit employers from calling or messaging their workers after hours. But it does protect employees who "refuse to monitor, read or respond to contact or attempted contact outside their working hours, unless their refusal is unreasonable," according to the Fair Work Commission, Australia's workplace relations tribunal.
That includes outreach from their employer, as well as other people "if the contact or attempted contact is work-related."
The law, which passed in February, took effect on Monday [August 26, 2024] for most workers and will apply to small businesses of fewer than 15 people starting in August 2025. It adds Australia to a growing list of countries aiming to protect workers' free time.
"It's really about trying to bring back some work-life balance and make sure that people aren't racking up hours of unpaid overtime for checking emails and responding to things at a time when they're not being paid," said Sen. Murray Watt, Australia's minister for employment and workplace relations.
The law doesn't give employees a complete pass, however...
"If it was an emergency situation, of course people would expect an employee to respond to something like that," Watt said. "But if it's a run-of-the-mill thing … then they should wait till the next work day, so that people can actually enjoy their private lives, enjoy time with their family and their friends, play sport or whatever they want to do after hours, without feeling like they're chained to the desk at a time when they're not actually being paid, because that's just not fair."
Protections aim to address erosion of work-life balance
The law's supporters hope it will help solidify the boundary between the personal and the professional, which has become increasingly blurry with the rise of remote work since the COVID-19 pandemic.
A 2022 survey by the Centre for Future Work at the Australia Institute, a public policy think tank, found that seven out of 10 Australians performed work outside of scheduled working hours, with many reporting experiencing physical tiredness, stress and anxiety as a result.
The following year, the institute reported that Australians clocked an average of 281 hours of unpaid overtime in 2023. Valuing that labor at average wage rates, it estimated the average worker is losing the equivalent of nearly $7,500 U.S. dollars each year.
"This is particularly concerning when worker's share of national income remains at a historically low level, wage growth is not keeping up with inflation, and the cost of living is rising," it added.
The Australian Council of Trade Unions hailed the new law as a "cost-of-living win for working people," especially those in industries like teaching, community services and administrative work.
The right to disconnect, it said, will not only cut down on Australians' unpaid work hours but also address the "growing crisis of increasing mental health illness and injuries in modern workplaces."
"More money in your pocket, more time with your loved ones and more freedom to live your life — that's what the right to disconnect is all about," ACTU President Michele O’Neil said in a statement.
The 2022 Australia Institute survey... found broad support for a right to disconnect.
Only 9% of respondents said such a policy would not positively affect their lives. And the rest cited a slew of positive effects, from having more social and family time to improved mental health and job satisfaction. Thirty percent of respondents said it would enable them to be more productive during work hours.
Eurofound, the European Union agency for the improvement of living and working conditions, said in a 2023 study that workers at companies with a right to disconnect policy reported better work-life balance than those without — 92% versus 80%."
-via GoodGoodGood, August 26, 2024
#right to disconnect#australia#auspol#work#work life balance#workers rights#good news#hope#labor#labor rights#un
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OPTİVİSER - GOLD
Welcome to Optiviser.com, your ultimate guide to navigating the complex world of electronics in 2024. As technology continues to evolve at a rapid pace, finding the right devices that suit your needs can be overwhelming. In this blog post, we’ll harness the power of AI to help you make informed choices with our comprehensive electronics comparison. We’ll take a closer look at the top smart home devices that are revolutionizing how we live and work, providing convenience and efficiency like never before. Additionally, we’ll offer expert laptop recommendations tailored to various lifestyles and budgets, ensuring you find the perfect match for your daily tasks.
AI-powered Electronics Comparison
In today's fast-paced technological landscape, making informed choices about electronics can be overwhelming. An AI-powered Electronics Comparison tool can help streamline this process by providing insights that cater to specific user needs. These advanced tools utilize algorithms that analyze product features, specifications, and user reviews, resulting in a tailored recommendation for buyers.
As we delve into the world of consumer technology, it's important to highlight the Top Smart Home Devices 2024. From smart thermostats to security cameras, these devices are becoming essential for modern households. They not only enhance convenience but also significantly improve energy efficiency and home safety.
For those looking for a new computer to enhance productivity or gaming experiences, consider checking out the latest Laptop Recommendations. Many platforms, including Optiviser.com, provide comprehensive comparisons and insights that can help consumers choose the best laptop suited to their needs, whether it’s for work, study, or leisure.
Top Smart Home Devices 2024
As we move into 2024, the landscape of home automation is evolving rapidly, showcasing an array of innovative gadgets designed to enhance comfort and convenience. In this era of AI-powered Electronics Comparison, selecting the right devices can be overwhelming, but we've highlighted some of the best Top Smart Home Devices 2024 that stand out for their functionality and user experience.
One of the most impressive innovations for this year is the latest AI-powered home assistant. These devices not only respond to voice commands but also learn your preferences over time, allowing them to offer personalized suggestions and perform tasks proactively. Imagine a device that can monitor your schedule and automatically adjust your home's temperature and lighting accordingly!
Moreover, security remains a top priority in smart homes. The Top Smart Home Devices 2024 include state-of-the-art security cameras and smart locks that provide robust protection while ensuring ease of access. With features like remote monitoring through your smartphone or integration with smart doorbells, keeping your home safe has never been easier. For more details on the comparisons and recommendations of these devices, you can check out Optiviser.com.
Laptop Recommendation
In today's fast-paced world, choosing the right laptop can be a daunting task. With numerous options available in the market, it's essential to consider various factors such as performance, portability, and price. At Optiviser.com, we provide an insightful guide to help you navigate through the vast array of choices. To streamline your decision-making process, we have developed an AI-powered Electronics Comparison tool that allows you to compare specifications and features of different laptops side by side.
This year, we have seen a surge in innovative laptops that cater to diverse needs. Whether for gaming, business, or everyday use, our top recommendations include models that excel in battery life, processing power, and display quality. For instance, consider the latest models from top brands, which have integrated the best features of Top Smart Home Devices 2024 trends, ensuring seamless connectivity and advanced functionalities.
Additionally, if you're looking for a laptop that can handle multitasking effortlessly, we suggest models equipped with the latest processors and ample RAM. Our detailed Laptop Recommendation section on Optiviser.com includes expert reviews and user feedback to help you choose a laptop that not only fits your budget but also meets your specific requirements.
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prison bf series linked here !
content: lots of angst, ptsd, hurt + comfort
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thinking about how much prison changes toji and how different he is the day he gets out. how 7 years of repenting for his crimes completely warps his brain and leaves him with lasting habits he will probably never get rid of.
you don’t quite realize how almost a decade of seclusion from the world’s developing tech affects him. it’s silly, how he doesn’t quite get what an air fryer is or how it works, lashing out and trashing the poor machine after hours of trying to heat popcorn in it.
how he sits cross legged on the floor in front of the couch messing around with the voice-to-text feature on the TV remote, giggling to himself when the text comes up wrong.
how he doesn’t seem to care for his old phone anymore, discarding the dated piece of technology in favor of a burner with a little keypad so he can text you. how he still finds himself whispering on phone calls with you in public, the residual fear of getting caught is something he still wont shake.
you’ve slowly come to realize just how much he hid from you while behind bars. the things he didn’t want you to see, the toll it took on both his mind and body. you trace the new scars on his abdomen one lazy afternoon, feeling him go completely rigid once he realizes he can’t hide them from you anymore.
they’re deep. fleshy pink slashes with raised edges mirroring the scar that runs through his lip. “you should’ve seen those other guys.” he tells you with a hesitant chuckle, trying to ease your mind. you believe him when he says it, recalling countless testimonies from terrified jail guards who’d witnessed his wrath firsthand.
he thinks he might get them covered up, adding to the endless expanse of ink that litters his body. his latest pieces have all been dedicated to you, and lord knows he wants every reminder of you etched into his skin.
toji hides his grief from you. hides how his heart goes into overdrive in large crowds, head constantly whipping back because his mind still believes the men around him want to drive a shank through his neck.
you still notice though. you notice how he sleeps in the fetal position now, knees drawn up as far as they can to protect as much surface area as possible. he holds you when he can, usually when it’s still light out. pressing soft kisses to your hairline and humming a song you cant quite decipher.
he yelped the first time you bear hugged him from behind, whipped around and held you down by your neck until he eventually came to his senses and broke down with a whimpering apology. you’d forgotten about it since, though you notice how hesitant he is to sleep with his back to you now.
you want to tell him that it’s ok. that it’s normal to see aspects of his former life in his new one. especially after spending so much time in it. that it’s normal to be scared when things take him by surprise and suddenly he’s been transported back behind the walls of a dingy 4-person cell.
he’s still able to provide the same luxuries he was able to gift you when his sole form of income came by means that were more than immoral. old connections come to the two of you, offering positions at their respective companies to help the older man get back on his feet.
what toji can’t do is stay sane working a normal job.
don’t get him wrong, the money is good, maybe even better than what he was making before. he just wishes being a CFO wasn’t such a fucking bore. he used to wear suits to feel good about himself, mindlessly indulging in the luxuries he took for granted.
now it’s just his uniform, what he’s expected to wear as he crunches numbers in a penthouse office. he can’t even light up as he does it, his probation officer would probably smell it on him and make him piss in a damn cup.
he misses being stuck in a locked room 22 hours a day. at least there he knew he’d never be able to get his hands on any bud. the drugs in prison aren’t the kind that you want to mess with, toji knew that even before he had an inkling that he’d be spending nearly a tenth of his life in there.
he asks himself if he even deserves a job like this, a job where he has so many assistants that he practically does jackshit all day, twiddling his thumbs on a 10 thousand dollar couch while he contemplates if he should just say fuck it and roll a joint.
he wouldn’t do that though, not after how proud you were to see that he’d turned his life around as soon as he got out. maybe he’ll start using nicotine patches instead.
toji loves you. that much is obvious. you see it in the way his body shows its vulnerability around you. the way his muscles soften when you lay on top of him while the two of you binge films on the couch. the way he’s still too shy to ask you to lace your fingers with his in public, scared you’ll somehow be corrupted by hands that have dealt out an immeasurable amount of harm.
you tell him to just take it one day at a time on the mornings where you send him off to work, tightening his tie and smoothing down his collar to show off the ink he has there. and toji thinks he’s never loved anyone else quite like how he loves you.
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taglist ! <3 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin
#adah thoughts#prison bf! toji#prison bf!toji#prison bf toji#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji drabbles#toji fluff#toji fushiguro#toji hcs#toji headcanons#toji x female reader#toji x reader fluff#toji x reader#jjk#jjk x reader
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To The One I Love - Part 7
Series Masterlist
➪in which you and tyler try to get back into a normal routine, and he shows you just how much fun you and he had together before your accident - in the form of past streams.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 3.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Tyler was right, he got maybe four hours of sleep and spent most of his night tossing and turning.
When it was seven in the morning, Tyler gave up entirely and retreated to the living room to wait until you woke up. He flipped through channel after channel, nothing really catching his interest long enough to commit to it, and he did that for two hours straight. He dozed off a couple times, but he was still nowhere near well rested by the time you opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hall at nine in the morning. “Hey,” he said as soon as he saw you, and he sat up as you slowly made your way over to the couch with the throw blanket from the bed wrapped around you.
“Hi,” you said back as you climbed over the armrest instead of walking around the back of the couch.
Tyler held back a grin, because you did that every single time you sat down on the couch, and he was happy that at least a few things hadn’t changed. “How did you sleep?”
“Okay,” you answered and rubbed at your eyes with your hands. “That bed is pretty comfortable. Way better than the one at the hospital.”
“I told you,” he laughed, glancing back at the TV screen as some ad for RAM began playing. When your eyes became fixated on the TV as well, Tyler looked back over at you. “How’s your head?”
You tear your eyes away from the screen and drop your hands onto your lap. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I looked at the stitches in the mirror and I nearly fainted. I should probably not do that again.”
Tyler’s heart fell at that and he shifted a bit. “Yeah, definitely don’t do that anymore,” he agreed, not knowing what he would do if you did faint and injure yourself even more. “You didn’t take your pill yet, did you?”
You shook your head and leaned back on the couch. “No, not yet. I figured I should probably eat something with it,”
“Good idea,” Tyler hummed, handing you the remote as he pushed himself off the couch and made his way to the kitchen. The open concept allowed him to keep an eye on you as he worked on making breakfast, and he often found himself checking on you more than he should.
If he really tried, he could almost let himself believe that this was just another Saturday morning, with you catching up on the latest news while he made french toast and bacon.
He had no idea how much he would end up longing for days like those again.
“You’re still gonna show me some of your streams later, right?” You called out as you put on some home decorating show. “You said you would.”
Tyler laughed under his breath as he walked back into the living room. “And I will,” he said as he handed you a glass of orange juice before making his way back to the kitchen. “But they’re our streams, babe.”
You lifted yourself up and looked at him from over the back of the couch. “I’m in them, too?”
“Yeah,” he answered as he got a plate down from the cupboard. “What, you thought you weren’t my partner anymore?” He teased as he put the food onto the plate.
“No, I…” you trailed off and didn’t continue when he handed you the plate and turned to walk down the hallway. “You’re not eating with me?”
Tyler paused and grinned at the hint of a whine in your voice. “I’m gettin’ your meds,” he clarified and you visibly relaxed.
“Oh,” you mumbled, sitting back down in a more comfortable position. “Right, I knew that.”
“Uh huh,”
He left you on the couch while he went into your bedroom, and his heart swelled a bit when he noticed that you had made the bed up before you left the room. You were supposed to be resting and letting him do all the work, yet he wasn’t annoyed or frustrated with you for not doing that. He was just hopelessly in love with you.
“You didn’t need to make the bed,” he said when he entered the living room again. “You’re supposed to be takin’ it easy.”
You gave him a look as you bit into a piece of bacon. “I think I can handle pulling a sheet up,” you said back, your voice a bit muffled as you chewed.
Tyler shook his head again and set a pill onto the coffee table before making a second plate and sitting next to you. “Will you ever just let me handle things and not be a smartass about it?” He teased and you shrugged as you set your plate aside and took the pill.
“No, because I feel useless enough as it is,” you answer as you lean back against the armrest and drape your legs over his thighs. “And I wanted to do something productive while I still had the energy to do so before I took my meds and became tired all over again.”
Tyler smiled over at you, his skin heating up at having at least a part of you touching him. “You’re not useless,” he said, using your calves as a makeshift table for his plate. “You’re hurt, and that’s a damn good excuse for you to not strain yourself. And when you get tired, I’ll show you some of the streams. How does that sound?”
“Good,” you grin over at him and cross your arms over your chest. “That sounds really good.”
About a half hour later, your meds kicked in and you were left feeling groggy and a bit grumpy as you propped your legs up on the coffee table and waited for Tyler to come back with his IPad.
Oh, yeah. You were also feeling clingy, because as soon as he sat down next to you again, you shifted closer to him and cuddled against his side. And Tyler loved every second of it.
You pressed your cheek against his bicep as he pulled up one of the earlier streams you and he ever did, where it was literally just you, Tyler, Boone and two cameras; one on his dashboard, and the other attached to the roof of his truck.
The first few videos you and he made were honestly pretty painful to watch since neither of you were really experienced with everything at that time, and luckily he had known Boone for a few years at that point, and he helped Tyler form a small group of storm chasers, and helped him upgrade all his equipment.
“Oh, God,” you moaned as you moved closer to him. “That’s me? What the hell am I wearing?”
Tyler looked down at the screen and felt his lips curve upwards as he took in the shirt you were wearing in the video. “That’s your DIY Tornado Wrangler shirt,” he answered. “You went out and bought a fabric marker, then went into my drawer and took one of my white shirts and wrote on it. I still don’t know why you didn’t just buy a shirt, but it was so long ago, I don’t even care anymore.”
You groaned and buried your face against his side. “Why did I even do that? That’s so lame,”
Tyler scoffed and looked down at you. “Lame? Baby, you’re the whole reason we have actual shirts now. Someone saw it and asked for us to start sellin’ ‘em, and nearly every adrenaline junkie in Oklahoma has one now,”
You don’t say anything as you lift your head and give him a wide eyed look before glancing back at the screen. “There’s no way I’m that important,”
“You’re the most important person in my life,” Tyler instantly answered, and you shut up after that for the most part as he showed you any video you wanted to see.
The last one you watched was a more recent one, and the stream ended with you and Tyler sharing a deep but chaste kiss. You were blushing by the time Tyler set the IPad down and turned to look at you, and he smirked at the pink tint on your face. “Wow, we have no shame,” you mumbled as you looked away.
Tyler laughed, moving to stand up. “Yeah, you somehow managed to only pick one out of the many streams we have that end like that, babe,” he said and you blushed even more before sitting up quickly.
“Where are you going?” You asked as if you believed he was planning on leaving you alone for more than a minute.
“I’m just putting this on charge in case you want to watch more later,” he said and smiled at the way you visibly relaxed. He walked around the couch and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his eyes instinctively flickering towards your stitches before he made his way to the guest room and plugged his IPad in.
He was only away from you for about thirty seconds, but it might as well have been thirty minutes, because the second he walked back into the living room, you were reaching for him.
Tyler sat back down next to you, draping his arm around your shoulders as you pressed yourself against his side. “Tell me another memory of us,” you murmured, reaching for his hand. “Any one you want.”
He hummed and leaned back on the couch, tilting his head back as he thought of what to tell you about. “How about the time you planned a surprise party for my twenty second birthday, then accidentally told me about it?”
A hint of pink flashed across your face again as you laughed. “Um…yeah, that sounds like me,” you mumbled, “Wow, that’s embarrassing.”
Tyler grinned as he nodded. “Yeah, you were pretty embarrassed about it back then too, but it was cute. You spent weeks planning this big surprise, and then you accidentally told me about it the day before. I wanted to laugh, but you ended up cryin’, so I had to hold back,” he added as you played with his fingers. “You looked so sad, I spent the next hour holdin’ you, and I ended up testin’ out my actin’ skills the next day at the party so I didn’t give away the fact that I already knew about the surprise.”
You smiled and looked up at him. “I’m such a baby,”
“You’re not a baby,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a few kisses to your knuckles. “You’re just emotional, you always have been, and it’s one of the reasons I’m head over heels for you. You wear your heart on your sleeve, babe.”
You nodded and shuffled closer to him. You were clearly in a mood for physical touch right now, and Tyler would be a fool to deny you of that. “You’re sweet, Ty. And I know, I know, you’re only like this with me, but I know you’ve always been sweet. That’s one thing I didn’t forget,”
Tyler’s grin softens as he pulls you closer to his side. “Maybe,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, then you were falling asleep against him, and his couple hours of sleep finally caught up to him as he tilted his head back and tightened his hold on you as his own eyes drifted close.
-
That’s how the next few days went.
Tyler would toss and turn in the guest bed while you slept down the hall from him, then he’d wake up and make you breakfast, make sure you took your pill, then spend a good couple hours on the couch with you as he showed you more streams or told you another story about your relationship.
While your memory was still a mess, you were beginning to look more and more comfortable at home, and he had a sneaking suspicion that you rather liked being around him as you couldn’t seem to stay away from him, and he loved it. It was like nothing happened, and the feeling of normalcy was definitely needed as Tyler felt like his heart was whole again, even if he was barely holding on at times.
You were laying on the couch, your head on his lap as Tyler ran his fingers through your hair. Your stitches were looking better now that they’ve had time to breathe, and the wound itself was less red and puffy.
“Tell me about…” you trail off as you shift on the couch. “Oh, tell me about our first night in this house. Like, what did we do the night we moved in?”
A small smirk formed on Tyler’s lips as he brushed your hair out of your face. “How ‘bout I tell you about the second night instead?”
Your brows furrowed and you propped your legs up on the armrest of the couch. “Why? What’s wrong with the first night?”
“Oh, nothin’...but it also left nothin’ to the imagination, babe,” he answered and you blushed before nodding.
“Okay, yeah. Tell me about the second night instead,”
Tyler laughed as he paused the movement of his fingers. “Alright,” he agreed. “Our second day here was spent mostly unpackin’, but towards the evenin’, you and I decided to have a break, so we went out onto the back deck, and we didn’t have any furniture out there yet, so you and I sat down on the steps and we watched the sun go down behind the trees. We talked just like this the whole time, like we were still gettin’ to know each other, even though we know everythin’ about one another.”
You smiled and let out a quiet hum. “Every minute with you seems perfect, Ty,” you mumbled, “I almost want to think you’re lying to me and trying to make it sound like we had the perfect relationship.”
Tyler ran his knuckles along your jaw, grinning at the way you leaned into his touch. “We did,” he murmured, then added, “We still do.”
Nodding slowly, you sat up on the couch and turned to face him. “I hope so,” you said so quietly, Tyler almost didn’t hear you.
Almost.
“You and I are fine, babe,” he assured you, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Even though there’s not much in this pretty head of yours right now, I know we’re gonna be just fine. I promise.”
The grateful smile you gave him made his heart swoon, and he knew that no matter how many years have passed and will pass, you’ll always be able to make him feel this way. Like how he did when he first fell in love with you.
“Okay,” you mumbled, leaning into his touch. “I guess I have no choice but to believe you.” Your voice was teasing, and he was helpless to stop the faint blush that formed on his face.
-
It had been a week since Tyler brought you home from the hospital, and your memory still wasn’t back. It wasn’t really showing much of a hint that it was on its way back, but Tyler was still hopeful.
In the meantime, he’s more than fine with creating more memories with you while you carefully try to coax the old ones to return.
You were officially off your pain meds as of last night, and your head was looking a lot better than it did a week ago, and in about another week or so, you’d be able to get the stitches removed.
After a bit of pestering from you, Tyler finally caved and let you come with him to get groceries. It didn’t take much, because the house was running low on food before your injury, and he hadn’t left your side since, so he was definitely working with scraps at this point and needed to go get actual food.
It was good for you to get out of the house, too. You already seemed like you were completely comfortable in it again, and that made Tyler beyond happy.
He let you push the cart since you were still a bit shaky, and he was a close step behind you as he let you go down any aisle you wanted. A few kids stared at your stitched up cut and cringed as you walked by them, but you just smiled at them while Tyler reminded himself that they were kids and that they didn’t know any better.
He nearly bumped into you when you stopped and reached for something on the shelf. “What about these?” You asked with a sweet smile as you turned to face him, your hand gripping a box of Oreo cookies. “Sugar might help my head, right? That’s what everyone says, right?”
Tyler laughed quietly and shook his head, knowing how much of a sweet tooth you are. It was pretty much a miracle that you’ve gone a week and a half without so much as a bite of anything sugary. That doesn’t mean you haven’t been dropping subtle hints throughout the week, this one was just flat out obvious though. “Baby, the only thing these are gonna do is give you a sugar rush. Nice try though,” he said as he took the box from you.
You stuck out your lip and pouted at him, and he wanted to kiss you so badly. It had been over a week since he gave you anything more than a hug and a kiss on your forehead, but he was letting you control the pace of things. Even if it was slowly making him touch-starved. “But my head is fine,” you say and he gives you a look. “Okay, my head will be fine, the doctor said so. And what if I promise to save them until after I get my stitches out?”
Tyler raises an eyebrow and gives you a skeptical look. “Uh huh, I know your tricks. You’ll pull that box out of the bag as soon as we get home and eat every single one,” he teased and you blushed a bit before laughing.
“You have no faith in me,” you scoff, draping your arms over the handle of the cart as you look between his eyes and the box in his hands.
Tyler grinned, shaking his head. “Of course I don’t. You have zero control when it comes to cookies. These won’t last five minutes,”
You smile at him and open your mouth to respond, but then you go quiet. At your sudden silence, Tyler looked up from the cookies and focused his attention back on you.
“Baby? You still with me?” He asked with a soft laugh, but you suddenly seemed distant as you looked over his shoulder. “Hey, you okay? I was just kiddin’, babe.”
You nodded slowly, and then Tyler noticed that your gaze was fixated on something behind him. “Yeah,” you mumbled, leaning back on the cart. “Sorry…sorry.”
Tyler shook his head, tossing the box into the cart before moving closer to you. “Don’t be sorry, baby, just tell me what’s wrong,” he murmured, reaching up to take your chin in between his index finger and thumb. Once he knew that you were alright, he glanced over his shoulder to try and see what you were looking at.
You hold onto his arm as he takes note of the couple a few feet down the aisle, big grins on their faces as they look down at their matching wedding bands that look brand new. “That could’ve been us,” you mumbled, “You want to marry me, Ty, and you’ve asked me, but I said no. And I don’t know why, because you’re perfect and we’re perfect, and I said no. Why did I say no?”
Tyler looks back at you with furrowed brows. The conversation of marriage hadn’t been brought back up since you first asked about it the day he brought you home, but the couple down the aisle clearly triggered something in you. And now you looked like you were on the verge of tears.
Okay, maybe he could’ve held off on groceries for a few more days, because you were beginning to look overwhelmed, and that was the last thing Tyler wanted.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, turning you around so you weren’t looking at the newlyweds anymore. “It’s alright. I don’t want you beatin’ yourself up about it, okay? That’s not why I’ve been tellin’ you these things. I don’t want you to feel bad about any of it.”
He pressed his front against your back and hugged you from behind as you looked down at the tiled floor. “But I want to marry you, Ty,” you whispered and Tyler’s heart skipped multiple beats at that, because that was the first time you had ever said that. During his proposals, you just gave different reasons as to why you couldn’t get married yet, but here you are now, telling him after spending a week and a half by his side that you want to marry him.
His words get caught in his throat as he leans down to gently rest his chin on your shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said again, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “We’re gonna get married one day, I promise. We just need some more time, that’s all. But I swear, baby, I’m gonna marry you one day. And I don’t care how long I need to wait, okay? Please, please, babe, don’t think about that right now or force it. Let it come to you.”
You sniffle and nod, leaning back against him as you grip his forearm that’s wrapped around your chest. “Okay,” you whispered, and he held you like that in the snack aisle for as long as you needed him to. Once you had calmed down, you tilted your head and looked up at him, and the request you had made his heart skip another few beats. “Tonight…will you sleep with me? In our bed?”
#to the one i love series#to the one i love#grumpys glen grove#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens smut#tyler owens twisters#twisters#twisters 2024#twisters movie#twisters imagine#twisters imagines#glen powell#tyler owens fic#tyler owens fanfiction#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens x you
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The Best News of Last Week
🌍🌡️ - Climate Prophecy: The Forecast Is 100% Chance of 'Cool'
1. No cases of cancer caused by HPV in Norwegian 25-year olds, the first cohort to be mass vaccinated for HPV
Last year there were zero cases of cervical cancer in the population that was vaccinated in 2009 against the HPV virus, which can cause the cancer in women. The HPV virus is extremely common, basically everyone comes into contact with one version or another of the virus in their lifetime.
The vaccine was given to girls only out of an abundance of caution, they were the most likely to contract cancer from the viruses, and because there was limited supply.
2. ‘Every square inch is covered in life’: the ageing oil rigs that became marine oases
Built decades ago, California’s offshore oil platforms are home to a huge diversity of marine life. According to a 2014 study, the rigs were some of the most “productive” ocean habitats in the world, a term that refers to biomass – or number of fish and other creatures and how much space they take up – per unit area.
3. Vaccinations may have prevented almost 20 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide
Vaccinations estimated to have averted 19.8 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide in their first year, according to the latest Imperial modelling study.
In the first year of the vaccination programme, 19.8 million out of a potential 31.4 million COVID-19 deaths were prevented worldwide according to estimates based on excess deaths from 185 countries and territories.
4. Global climate policy forecast predicts ‘well below 2°C’ Paris Agreement climate goals will be met
They report only a 10% probability we exceed 2°C by 2050. Temperatures are expected to peak between 1.7°C and 1.8°C, which is consistent with the “well below 2°C” objective of the Paris Agreement in Art. 2.1c.
5. Young driver fatality rates have fallen sharply in the US, helped by education, technology
Crash and fatality rates among drivers under 21 have fallen dramatically in the U.S. during the past 20 years.
Using data from 2002-2021, the report says that fatal crashes involving a young driver fell by 38%, while deaths of young drivers dropped even more, by about 45%.
6. A Virginia woman was feeling sad. Her doctor prescribed her a cat.
7. Remote workers report saving $5,000 to $10,000 a year
What value would American workers place on the privilege to work from home?
In a 2022 survey by FlexJobs, 45% of remote workers reported saving at least $5,000 a year. One in 5 reported saving $10,000 a year. The savings average out to about $6,000 a year. The poll reached 4,000 workers in July and August of last year.
Three years into the remote-work revolution, research increasingly suggests that telework is a commodity, a job descriptor worth thousands of dollars in potential savings and improved quality of life.
---
That's it for this week :)
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Omg please more Bimbo!reader x Mafia!Konig!!! I AM FERAL FOR IT! Your writing is so good! Can you maybe do some fluff with them! If not it’s totally fine! Thank you so so so much!<3
Konig smiles tiredly as you dance around in your bikini, showing it off to him. He doesn't understand how two tiny pieces of fabric and some jewels joining them could cost this much, but he will buy anything for his princess - as long as it means she will be happy and content with him. Throwing money at the problem is the only way he knows - either this or shooting the problem, which is clearly not an option here. He just tilts his head to the side as you laugh and ask for more pina coladas - it's a good thing he hired a new bartender for this property. The last one made the mistake of trying to get the lady of the house something cheap and artificial - you were still drinking it like a part girl you are, but Konig prefers you spend his money on something good. Something shiny and expensive - like a golden necklace with little diamonds incrusted into some magic ornament. He had a rough week - a rough month, most likely, with the new, almost uncorrupted politician rising in Vienna and promising to get the criminals away from the city. It was a problem he was solving currently - getting the secretaries, getting the bodyguards, surrounding the new guy with old ones, trying to get back into the warm underbelly. Konig just needs a bit of a pick-him-up, someone who won't be questioning his every move. Someone who has no idea how hard his work is. He slaps your butt as you stroll around, and you giggle. A godlike image - you lean down to him and ask if it would be too weird if you get on his lap and make out with him. You're a bit shy in the open air, a bit self-conscious about the servants he has running around - but he grabs you by your hip and pulls you down. You smell like expensive perfume and a bit of a water-cleaning chemical from the pool, and you laugh when he kisses you. You don't ask him about the gang wars, about drugs - you don't even take those unless he gives you something fun and non-dangerous, and your latest concerns include a new dress and a massage that you wanted to try on him because you saw it on insta. Konig loves you because he can finger you on the little pool seat while you squirm and moan while his other hand is busy texting his crooks on what to do with the most recent secretary the new politician got. Poor guy is going to get tortured for information and killed in the best-case scenario, but Konig doesn't feel remotely bad. He has his pretty wife meowing and moaning on his lap as he buries two of his large fingers into her cunt, and he has the informant on his phone. Life is good.
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Why did Ultraman had to be so cute? ㅡ ༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
[] - Reader x Kenji Sato. Kenji needs your help.
𓇼she/her
warning ! mentions of blood.
word count- 2k
so ultraman has been my latest hyperfixation so i really enjoyed writting this and even rewatched to make sure everything made sense, it ended up being less romantic as i intended so its mostly a piece of life sort of? i rlly like it anyways and will probably write a continuation.
Being friends with a celebrity was hard. You knew him from when he was little, so he trusted you a lot, to the point you knew stuff about him that made him less flattering than the media would make him look.
You were there for him when his mom disappeared and you were as heartbroken as he was, you had such admiration for her that the moment you got the devastating news you decided it right there, you were going to follow her steps and become a KDF scientist, study Kaijus and make the cities at least a bit safer.
It’s not like it was a surprising decision for anyone, since always you’ve showed interest for kaijus. You liked to study with Professor Sato when you visited Ken, you liked to ask him stuff and getting explanations probably no one else could. When you told Ken your decision though, he looked troubled for a few seconds, you were confused but he quickly changed his expression, smiling to you and letting out a “Good luck with that”.
After that, the following years just made you more inseparable, until he left. You tried to keep in touch, but it was hard. Not because y’all hated each other or lost interest but work and studies just kept getting harder for you, and playing and growing as a baseball player in a foreign country was getting harder for him. In despite of that, you kept touch with Professor Sato, him guiding you through your career is something you’ll be forever grateful for.
So, when Kenji came back to the country and didn’t told you anything definitely made you slightly mad, but you had hopes to hear an explanation coming from him soon.
What you didn’t expect was a call from him at 2am after weeks of knowing he was here yet not contacting with you.
“Look, I know It’s sudden.” The distortion in his voice quickly threw you off. “I know its 2am in the morning, but I need you here.” You remained silent for a few seconds, thinking what could possibly be going through his mind. “Please, I need you.” Before you could say anything, he hung up. You were worried. You saw in the news how Ken Sato didn’t show up to two games now, and apparently has been missing for months, just because of that, you were actually going to drive to the other side of the city.
The location to his home wasn’t unknown, but it was remote and hard to get in, but you managed to get in time. The sky was cloudy, the night was dark and cold, and you were glad you were driving a car and not that damned motorcycle of him, on top of that, the disappearing bridge connecting his home with the city made you a bit scared.
A smart gate let you in, somehow knowing you were you. You knew a lot about technology thanks to your job, but Sato’s residence always were a few steps ahead, given the fact that both parents used to be scientifics.
You parked near the door, stepping out of the car and walking to the house. It was quiet and it spooked you a little bit.
You were unsure as if you should knock the door, they knew you were there from the gate, but you still did.
“Come on in!” Hearing it in person the voice sounded more distorted, you knew it was him, but it sounded distant, loud and robotic.
You opened the door, stepping inside and closing it behind you, a big empty living room welcomed you.
“Uh… I know it’s… Hard to understand, and I know you hate him, and…” You heard his voice again, this time coming from what seemed speakers around the house.
“Hate him? Who?” You questioned, even though you weren’t sure he could hear you.
“Just Imma need you to keep it as a secret, and don’t freak out!” He seemed to be stumbling on his own words. You saw an elevator come out of the floor, you didn’t question it much and just stepped in, feeling a bit dizzy as it went down.
“You’re the only smart person I know… And I’ll be in a lot of trouble if you decide to speak ‘bout it, but I trust you.” You weren’t hearing him through the speakers anymore, yet he sounded loud. “I need you to not yell me, judge me, or be mad at me, just help me.” Every time he said anything, it made you more confused, what could be so bad?
One of the walls of the elevator raised, letting you get out of it.
And you saw him. Ultraman.
“Surprise…” You heard Sato’s voice coming out of him.
He was crouching because of the tall walls, not tall enough for him though.
“Ah… You’ve got to be kidding me.” You whispered, feeling surprised and annoyed at the same time.
The little big asshole who was ruining any time the KDF tried to capture kaijus was your childhood best friend.
The arrogant giant who would destroy apartments instead of safely getting kaijus out of the city was a famous baseball player.
And you knew him too well, enough for him to tell you who he was, and now you had to help him and keep his identity a secret.
“I wish I was…” You heard him whisper, though whispering at that size didn’t count as a whisper. “I can’t turn back. I’m stuck.” He explained, you walked closer to him, and he sat down crossed leg, not needing to crouch anymore.
“That’s why you didn’t went to your games?” You asked, he drew a hand near you, palms up, he wanted you to step on it.
You hesitated, a bit scared of heights, but did it anyways. You sat on his palm, legs crossed as well, and he held you with both hands.
“And what do you want me to do?” You questioned, having mixed feelings about if you were helping your best friend or the reason of your headaches at work.
“I don’t know… You know a lot about kaijus, I’m basically the same.” He was not, both of you knew that, but whatever. “Please…” He gave you what seemed to be puppy eyes, even though you could only see white pupils.
“I’ll see what I can do… You still got your dad’s stuff?” You asked, he nodded. “Mina?” He called, and the little ball assistant appeared, with said stuff literally coming from the floor.
Complicated machines, complicated tools, some similar to the ones you’ll see at work, some you’ve never seen before but you guessed you’ll have to figure out.
“Alright… Put me down, I guess.”
You made him a simple blood test. Finding veins on such body was hard, trying to identify anything on the blood sample was harder.
“So… What are you? A machine? A monster?” You asked, both out of curiosity and because it could help you figure out what happened to him.
“I’m not sure… My dad told me we are like… Aliens, or used to be, at least.” He explained.
“Well, some kaijus come from the space.” You started. “Maybe you are closer to kaijus than you think.” He seemed to think about it for a while, you knew how he struggled to see kaijus as anything else than soulless monsters.
“Mina, can you check this, please?” You told her, giving her the blood sample. She took it and left.
You stared at him, with a mix of confusion and aweness.
“See something you like? Hm?” He said with a flirty voice. You laughed.
“Not yet, ask me again when you’re Kenji and not Ultraman” You flirted back, making him slightly surprised.
Mina came back, with a piece of paper that noted anything found. A bunch of cells you didn’t knew, probably part of his alien side, but you recognized something.
A common virus found on some kaijus that made them incapable of controlling their powers, which seemed to be what was happening to him.
“Alright… How do I get rid of it?” He asked once you explained the situation, you could see the desperation in his eyes.
“Well… We don’t really cure kaijus when they’re sick, and we can’t treat it like a normal virus since you’re humongous and can’t drink or eat…” You thought, sitting on the floor, feeling his puppy eyes back on you. “Kaijus can usually get rid of the viruses by themselves, so if we can mimic kaijus antibodies, you might be able to do the same.” You explained, and he agreed, just wanting to get out of the situation.
You were a bit worried his body couldn’t handle it, but you trusted that his alien-self would do the work.
You gave the indications to Mina; you were lucky she had Professor Sato knowledge on her.
You modified Kenji’s blood so it would produce the antibodies that were needed.
“So… I reprogrammed your cells to produce what we need, kind of like a cancer.” The word spooked him, but he trusted you.
Mina set everything up for the blood transfusion.
“Alright… I hope you understand this is risky” You muttered to him, trying to prepare his arm. “Gosh, you’re huge…”
“I know, just hurry up.” You heard him say, hints of normal Kenji voice behind the <<robotic>> filter that it gave his voice. You stared up to him a bit annoyed by his rushing. “And… You’re the best scientist I know, so please help me.” You blushed slightly, shaking your head.
“Thank you, I guess.” You whispered, feeling those uncanny white pupils on you. “Alright… Here I go…” With the help of Mina once again, you started the process. “Let me know If you feel something…” You told him, staring at him worried it might go all wrong.
You sat down with him, on one of his thighs, waiting for it to have any effect.
“So… You’re Ultraman” You stared at him. He simply shrugged, not seeming to be too happy about it. “I’m guessing that’s why you came back from America.” He nodded, not elaborating any further.
“I’m sorry… I know I’ve been causing trouble to… Ya’ll” You knew what he was referring to, the KDF.
"It's okay... You should start doing better, though. It's difficult relocating people and fixing buildings and...” You scolded him, both because you were right and because you enjoyed annoying him, and you knew you succeeded when he sighed audibly.
“I know, I know! I'm trying, alright?" You laughed slightly, him laughing back when he noticed you were just playing with him, even if there was a piece of truth behind your words.
“You know?... I missed you, I was sad you didn’t call me” You whispered, probably feeling less exposed since he didn’t looked like Kenji, you were sure you were going to regret it, but it was late at night and you were tired. You let yourself lay down, still on top of his thigh. “Oh, you did?” You heard him, somehow, hearing his smile. “I’m sorry, I thought you were mad.” He whispered, realizing you were falling asleep.
“And I was… You could still have called me, though.” You whispered back.
You woke up hours later, feeling the harsh floor under you, with the warmth of arms around you. Blinking slowly trying to adjust to the light, looking up to see Kenji in a deep sleep, hugging you tightly.
You blushed, freezing in your place unsure of what to do. “K-Ken…” You called up to him, trying to squeeze yourself free.
“Ngh… Five mins’ more…” He whispered, raspy morning voice getting to your ears as he hugged you tighter. Suddenly he opened his eyes. “You’re not small anymore!” He exclaimed, happily. “I’m not huge!” He stood up, taking you with him. “You saved me!” He hugged you tightly. “Thank you!” He grabbed you by the shoulders, staring into your eyes with a huge smile on his face. You blushed. Why did Ultraman had to be so cute? “Coach is going to kill me.” He said suddenly, running towards the elevator you came from.
“Kenji…” You called, annoyed that he was leaving you just like that.
“A-Ah… I’ll take you to dinner, yes? Tonkatsu Toki. 7pm. I’ll pick you up.” He didn’t let you answer and just left.
-----
-tags
@luneariaa @aise-30 @kalsplace
#kenji sato#kenji sato x reader#ultraman#ultraman rising#ultraman ken#fanfic#ken sato#ultraman netflix#mako's works
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[Documentary News]Terry Pratchett’s Jungle Quest
This long lost 26 minute documentary, originally shown on channel 4, has been lovingly restored by its creators and is now available on Amazon Prime Video for all to see.
Made in 1995, a full 18 years before the much acclaimed Facing Extinction, Terry embarked on a journey of discovery into the jungles of Borneo with Ian Redmond and Dr Birute Galdikas to find these secretive creatures for himself.
"When Terry Pratchett, best-selling author of the 'Discworld' series of Science Fantasy novels, invented the much loved character of 'The Librarian', he could not have imagined that it would be the beginning of a personal quest that would take him into the jungles of Borneo.
The books began Terry's interest in and concern for orangutans; he even became a trustee of the Orangutan Foundation. Terry realised that he knew very little about these close cousins of humans and planned a boat trip, up the Sekonyer River from Kumi in Borneo to meet orangutans in the wild. His travelling companion was Ian Redmond, a primatologist who worked with Diane Fossey and the gorillas of Rwanda, and who now wanted to photograph orangutans for his latest book. Ian too was visiting Borneo for the first time.
Almost on his arrival, Terry encountered his first orangutan - in a cage! It was an ex-captive, baby orang, victim of the trade in orangutans as pets, waiting to be returned to the jungle. Keeping orangs as pets used to be an Indonesian tradition. Now, with just 300,000 left in the wild, it is illegal - catching the babies often involves killing the mothers.
Terry’s mission had an aim beyond encountering orangutans in their natural habitat. He also hoped to make contact with the legendary Birute Galdikas, a contemporary of Fossey's who has been working with and studying orangutans in Borneo for over twenty years. When he tracked her down at her remote base at Camp Leakey he learned that Birute regards orangutans as ‘another kind of us’ - they share 98% of their genetic make-up with human beings, as well as an intense curiosity, a sense of fun, and a liking for human company in small doses. He also learned that despite her efforts to protect the rainforest from the loggers, Birute fears for the future of the red apes as even the National Park is steadily reduced.
At Camp Leakey Terry discovered for himself the importance of a place where people and apes can share the world with no bars between them. And he achieved his aim of getting ‘close’ to orangutans when a huge male known as Kusasi emerged from the jungle, sat for a few minutes just feet away from Terry and Ian, and then quietly returned to the forest.”
To Rent £3.99 - To Buy £4.99
Amazon Prime Video UK (associate Link)
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Hello. I hope this request is not strange. Can you write a Yandere Jeeper Creepers headcanon?
Yandere!Jeepers Creepers Headcanons (NSFW)
• Your scent was intoxicating and it called to him like a siren’s song. He drops his latest kill to the ground. He had to find the source of the delicious smell or he was going to go insane. As he searches, he is bombarded with an assemblage of differentiating scents, but none of them are yours. Where are you, sneaky human? He flaps his wings harder until he is nothing but an unrecognizable blur in the sky.
• And there you are, pinned beneath him, screaming and squirming. Talons dig into your skin. Muscles ripple beneath your hands as you futilely try to pry away. He trails his nose everywhere, sniffing and scanning, searching for something. You think, this is it. This thing is going to rip me to shreds. He finally comes to a stop between your legs. Ah, there it is. To your horror he buries his face there and inhales deeply and rises with a toothy grin. He is going to enjoy you.
• Unfortunately for you, Creepers mate for life, so unless something terrible happens and you die, you’re stuck with him forever. Mating lets him to bypass the 23 year hibernation cycle, too, so yeah, until you die, you belong to the Creeper.
• There’s no use in running. He can track you from miles away and will find you every time. Not to mention he will be very displeased and will rip whoever helps you apart. All those times he allowed you to leave the den for a few hours are long gone.
• Creeper doesn’t talk much — and it depends on if he has vocal cords on him at the time — but every now and again he calls you different pet names from little human, pretty pet, or a simple mate/pup because he senses how you like it. His main form of communication is through body language or vocalization. When he growls you know you’re in trouble or when he tenses and his ears perk, it means there is someone or something nearby and you are expected to hide until it’s safe to come out.
• You do most of the talking because of this. Whenever he brings home bodies to “work on”, he listens to you ramble about different things: the weather, politics, or the new tv show you’ve been watching. He doesn’t understand a lot of it like why humans feel the need to buy their food when there was a plenty of animals to be hunted or why there were some who refused to eat meat altogether, but it doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to hear your voice.
• Very territorial. Does not like when males of any species get close to you. Human, feline, canine, it doesn’t matter, however humans can get you pregnant and if that were to happen, he’d have no choice but to kill the offspring. No mate of his was going to bear any children that didn’t belong to him.
• Will scent and mark you to let others know you are already claimed. If anyone wants to fight for the right to have you, they can certainly try, but you know what’s going to happen, right? It’s not going to end well for them.
• You know who is in charge here, don’t you? You humans deemed yourselves the apex predators, top of the food chain, but it’s certainly not him rolled onto his back and displaying his belly in a show of submission. Such a good little pet you are.
• You’re unprepared for when he knots you the first time. Your initial reaction is to move away, however the knot is connecting you to him and will not budge, causing pain. You have no choice but to lay there and allow it to lodge itself further inside you. It’s intense, the feeling of his knot invading you, stretching you more than his monstrous cock did. You can’t believe you’re being fucked like an animal in the literal sense and how it’s even remotely possible for your human body to be adjusting so well. Wasn’t your body supposed to instinctively push out anything foreign? So why was your body greedily sucking him in and why was it starting to feel so good? Oh…
• When you’re on your period, it sends him into a state of frenzy and he will not leave you alone. The combination of your blood mixed with your pheromones are begging him to breed you. While it is impossible for him to impregnate humans, you’re still going to be put on your hands and knees, ass up and ready so he can fuck you all night long.
• And when I say all night long — I mean it. There are no breaks, no time outs, no breathers for you to take. It’s just him pounding into you relentlessly until his knot forms then it’s rinse and repeat. It’s messy, it’s sticky, and the more you cry out, the harder he goes. If you reach behind and grab his hips, pulling him close because you’re needing more is exactly how he wants you; a pleading, blood-soaked, cock drunken mess. You will never have to worry about having cramps again because he will fuck them right out of you.
• Loves to play fight. One because he wants you to learn how to properly pounce and pin prey to the ground. The more you learn to give into your own primal instincts that humans have all but lost long ago and learn to protect yourself when he isn’t around, the less he has to worry. Two, because of the social aspect of it. He likes spending time with his human and enjoys when you try your best to get the upper hand. Sometimes he will let you win, but there’s no changing the dynamics here. He will always play the dominate role.
• Takes you on impromptu flying trips. At first you were too scared to open your eyes to even look at anything and he has to jostle you until you do. It’s scary to know you’re that high in the air, but the fear eventually gives way and you begin to enjoy the wind blowing in your face.
• On those rare occasions when the Creeper isn’t out and prowling for himself, he rests you on top of his chest and cocoons you within his wings, locking them tight. He hums an old tune while scratching your back with his claws and eventually you are lulled to sleep, dreaming of a winged creature who has turned your life upside down.
• But maybe not for the worst.
#jeepers creepers x reader#jeepers creepers#jonathan breck#slasher x reader#slasher fandom#slasher community#yandere#jeepers creepers (2003)#slasher headcanons
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The Perfect Setup (Zandvoort) // LN4
summary: Zandvoort '24. A young engineering prodigy, recruited by McLaren to solve complex F1 challenges, grapples with media scrutiny and an undeniable chemistry with driver Lando Norris. As tensions rise during a crucial race, they must balance professional duty with their growing personal connection.
warnings: she/her reader, smut (18+), unprotected (shower 😳) sex, size kink.
words: 6.9K
The roar of engines filled the air, a symphony of power and precision that reverberated through the paddock. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline mixed with the salty breeze from the nearby coast, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that signaled another race was about to begin. The McLaren garage was a hive of activity—mechanics making last-minute adjustments, engineers poring over data, and drivers mentally preparing for the challenge ahead. Amidst the controlled chaos, you stood, a pillar of calm in a world of speed.
You have always stood out, a prodigy in a field where experience often outweighed talent. But here you were, at the heart of one of the most prestigious teams in Formula 1, your hands and mind guiding the finely-tuned machinery that could make or break a race. At just twenty-two, you were already a respected figure in the paddock, known for your brilliance in engineering and your unyielding dedication to the sport.
Your family had sacrificed so much to help you reach your potential. You were always miles ahead of the other kids. While they were playing with dolls or video games, you were more interested in how those things worked. At six years old, you were already taking apart remote control cars, not to play with them, but to understand the intricate systems that made them move. By the time you were ten, you were building small engines from scratch, fascinated by the power and precision of mechanical systems.
Your parents quickly realized they had a prodigy on their hands. They encouraged your curiosity, enrolling you in expensive science and engineering programs meant for kids much older than you. You thrived in these environments, always eager to learn more, to push the boundaries of what you could create. By the time you were a teenager, you had already won several national engineering competitions, earning a reputation as a young genius in the world of mechanics.
When you first discovered Formula 1, everything changed. The speed, the technology, the sheer complexity of the cars—it captivated you like nothing else. You devoured everything you could find about F1 engineering, learning about aerodynamics, power units, and the delicate balance between speed and control. While other teenage girls were dreaming of prom dresses and much older boyfriends , you were dreaming of being in the garage, fine-tuning the machines that drove the world of motorsport.
Your parents knew that pursuing a career in F1 was a long shot, especially for a young woman, but they supported you every step of the way. They worked multiple jobs and sacrificed their own dreams so that you could chase yours.
Thankfully, your talent didn’t go unnoticed. By the time you were 16, you had caught the attention of several top engineers in the F1 world, earning an internship with Mercedes. You quickly made a name for yourself as a technical genius, capable of understanding and improving complex systems that seasoned engineers struggled with. The paddock buzzed with stories of the young girl who was instrumental in Mercedes' dominance.
With your newfound fame came an onslaught of media attention. Reporters from major news outlets were relentless, hounding you for interviews and prying into every aspect of your life. They asked invasive questions about your personal relationships, sought your opinions on the sport's latest controversies, and even pressed you to address misogynistic rumors linking you romantically with certain drivers. The spotlight, once a place of professional pride, had become a battlefield where your every word was scrutinized, and your achievements were often overshadowed by baseless gossip.
Zak Brown fought tooth and nail to bring you to McLaren, recognizing that you were the missing piece they needed to conquer the new regulations. When it became clear that the team was struggling to master the latest specifications, he knew they needed someone with your unique blend of technical expertise and innovative thinking. Zak saw in you a mind that could bridge the gap between theory and practice, someone who could not only understand the intricacies of the new rules but also translate them into real-world performance on the track.
But today, on the day of Max Verstappen's home race, there was an unmistakable charge in the air—tensions were higher, the stakes more personal. It wasn’t just another race; it was a proving ground, not only for the car but for you, the team, and especially for the driver who had become both your greatest challenge and your fiercest ally: Lando Norris.
Lando, the young, fiercely talented star of McLaren, had a natural charm that made him a media darling, but it was his relentless drive to win that truly defined him. From the moment you joined the team, your relationship with Lando had been anything but smooth. Your strong wills collided over every detail, every decision. He saw you as a nuisance, someone who constantly questioned his instincts and pushed him beyond his comfort zone. To you, Lando was stubborn, even arrogant at times—a driver who needed to understand that perfection on the track wasn't just about raw talent but about achieving the perfect synergy between man and machine. And today, that’s exactly what you were trying to achieve.
Standing in the garage, you reviewed the data on your tablet for what felt like the hundredth time. You had pulled an all-nighter, fine-tuning an experimental setup that you believed could give Lando the edge he needed on this notoriously challenging circuit. But convincing him to trust your untested approach was another matter.
Lando stormed into the garage, the top part of his race suit hanging low on his hips revealing his fire proofs, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, glancing at the setup specs displayed on the screen. “This is what you’ve been working on all night?”
“Yes,” you replied, meeting his gaze without flinching. “This setup could give you the downforce you need through the corners without sacrificing speed on the straights. I’ve run the simulations a dozen times—it works.”
“Simulations?” Lando scoffed, running a hand through his curls in agitation. “Simulations aren’t the same as the real thing. We can’t afford to take risks like this, not here, not today.”
“This isn’t a risk, Lando,” you shot back, your voice steady despite the tension. “This is a calculated decision based on hard data. I wouldn’t be recommending it if I didn’t believe it would make a difference.”
He crossed his arms, his jaw set in that stubborn way you’d come to recognize all too well. “You’re asking me to trust a setup we’ve never used in a race, in front of Max’s home crowd, no less. What if it doesn’t work? What if it costs me the race?”
“And what if it wins you the race?” you countered, stepping closer to him. “You know as well as I do that playing it safe isn’t going to cut it against Verstappen on his home turf. We need every advantage we can get, and this setup is that advantage.”
Lando stared at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. But you didn’t waver. You believed in this setup, and more importantly, you believed in him.
Finally, he relented, nodding slowly. "Fine. But if this doesn’t work, I swear I will never let you live it down."
“It will” you interrupted, a small tired smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I’ll be right there with you, making sure it does.”
A ghost of a smirk played on his face, his eyes betraying the glimmer of a sparkle. For a moment, the garage was silent, the two of you standing closer than you realized, caught in the intensity of the moment. The intoxicating blend of his dark, amber-scented perfume mingled with the unmistakable and familiar scent of the paddock, created a heady aroma that threatened to cloud your senses entirely.
Your breath hitched as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a fraction of a second before flicking back up to your eyes. You could feel your cheeks burning as his gaze caressed you.
Lando cleared his throat, breaking the spell and stepping back.
"Well, let's get this done." he said, his usual light tone returning as he ran a hand through his hair again. "Wouldn't want to keep the adoring crowd waiting." He winked.
You rolled your eyes and smiled, thankful for the change in energy.
You both turned back to the screen to finalize the setup adjustments. As you worked side by side, the air between you felt different—not just charged with the usual tension, but with a deeper, more intimate connection. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped, and you had moved from being teammates to something more.
The race was minutes away, but for the first time, you felt like you were truly part of a team—Lando’s team. And that, more than anything, was what mattered. The moments before the race were a blur of final checks and hurried conversations. You stood by Lando’s car, your heart pounding with adrenaline, not just from the intensity of the race but from something deeper—something you were trying desperately not to acknowledge. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the Zandvoort Circuit, you caught Lando’s eye. He was already in his race suit, helmet in hand, but there was a softness in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you’d both been dancing around for months.
The starting grid was tense with anticipation. Lando had secured pole position in a spectacular qualifying session, and the team was buzzing with excitement. But everyone knew this race wouldn’t be easy—not with Verstappen starting right behind him, eager to impress his home crowd.
The lights went out, and the roar of the engines filled the air as the cars launched off the line. Lando got a good start, but so did Verstappen. As they barreled into the first corner, Verstappen made a daring move, diving down the inside and taking the lead. The crowd erupted in cheers, the sea of orange on its feet as their hometown hero took charge.
“Hold steady,” you whispered under your breath, your eyes glued to the screen. Lando had lost the lead, but the race was far from over.
The next few laps were a blur of precision and strategy. Lando stayed close to Verstappen, not letting him get away, but it was clear that the McLaren’s setup was allowing him to conserve his tires while maintaining pace. The tension was palpable, every corner, every straight a testament to the fine-tuning you and the team had worked so hard to perfect.
As the race approached its midpoint, an opportunity presented itself. Verstappen, pushing hard to maintain his lead, began to show signs of tire degradation. You watched the data closely, your fingers gripping the edge of the console.
“This is it, Lando,” you said over the radio, your voice steady but laced with anticipation. “His tires are gone. You’ve got this.”
Lando didn’t respond, but you knew he’d heard you. His driving became more aggressive, more precise, as he closed the gap to Verstappen. And then, on lap 47, the moment you’d been waiting for arrived. Lando set himself up perfectly coming out of Turn 9, using the slipstream to his advantage. As they approached the hairpin, he made his move, diving down the inside with the confidence of a driver who knew his car—and his own abilities—were more than a match for the challenge.
He retook the lead, and this time, he wasn’t about to let it go.
“Nicely done, Lando!” you cheered into the radio, unable to keep the excitement out of your voice. The entire team erupted in applause, but your focus remained on the car, on the driver who had just reminded everyone why he was one of the best.
The final laps were a masterclass in control. Lando maintained his lead, keeping Max at bay and managing his tires to perfection, while also building a substantial gap. As he crossed the finish line, taking the checkered flag, the McLaren garage exploded in celebration.
“You did it, Lando! You won!” The words burst out of you, the relief and joy evident in every syllable.
Lando’s voice crackled over the radio, filled with the same emotion. “We did it. The car came alive.” A flush of pride warmed your cheeks. This was your win, too—your idea, your hard work, your dedication to perfection.
As Lando pulled into the pit lane, the world seemed to slow down. He stepped out of the car, removing his helmet to reveal a smile that lit up his entire face. You had joined the team to celebrate alongside Lando. Before you knew it, he was walking toward you, his eyes locked onto yours. The team was cheering, clapping him on the back, but Lando didn’t stop until he was right in front of you. He reached out, taking your hand in his, the contact sending a jolt through you.
“Thank you.” He said simply, the words full of meaning.
Your smile widened as you squeezed his hand, the rush of adrenaline and pride filling you with a new kind of certainty. In this moment, the only thing that mattered was him, and you. You squeezed his hand, your heart racing not from the adrenaline of the race, but from the intensity of the moment between you. “Thank you for trusting me, Lando.”
There was a brief silence, the noise of the celebration fading into the background as the world narrowed to just the two of you. Then, with a quick glance around as if to check that no one was watching too closely, Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, his breath warm against your skin.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he repeated, a whisper that sent your heart into overdrive.
You smiled, feeling the warmth spread through you. “And we’ll do it again.”
The race had been a victory, but this moment—standing with Lando, the connection between you undeniable—felt like something even more precious. It was the start of something new, something that went beyond the garage and the racetrack.
—-
The podium celebration had been nothing short of electrifying. The roar of the crowd, the spray of champagne, and the sight of Lando beaming as he hoisted the trophy high above his head was a moment you knew you would never forget. As the McLaren team gathered to celebrate, you found yourself on the podium alongside Lando, representing the team that had worked tirelessly to secure this victory. It was a whirlwind of emotions—pride and undeniable joy.
But as you made your way back to the garage drenched in Ferrari champagne, the adrenaline of the win still pulsing through your veins, you rounded a corner and nearly collided with Chiara, McLaren’s senior PR manager. Her usually composed expression was tense, and you could tell immediately that she had something on her mind.
“Great job out there,” Chiara started, her voice measured but tinged with concern. “The team couldn’t be happier, but we need to talk.” Your stomach sank as a sense of foreboding crept over you. Chiara had been your main point of contact for media communication since joining the team, and you knew that if she was this worried, it must be something serious. You felt a knot form in your stomach. The way she was looking at you told you that this wasn’t just about the race. “What’s on your mind, Chiara?”
She glanced around, making sure no one else was within earshot, then pulled you aside into a quieter corner of the garage. “Look, I don’t want to rain on your parade, but we need to be careful about how things appear. The media and fans are already buzzing about you and Lando, especially after that little moment after the finish.”
Your mind flashed back to the celebration, to the kiss on the cheek Lando had given you, the way his hand had lingered on yours just a bit longer than necessary. It had felt private, special, but of course, nothing was truly private in the world of Formula 1, especially not when the cameras were always rolling.
“You know how it is,” Chiara continued, her tone softening slightly. “Fans are passionate, and the media loves a good story. They’ll spin anything to make headlines. I’m not saying you can’t have…whatever it is you have with Lando, but we need to manage the optics. The last thing we want is for this to distract from the team’s success.”
You nodded, understanding her concerns. The last thing you wanted was to give the press ammunition to turn your hard-earned victory into tabloid fodder. But the idea of keeping your newfound feelings for Lando hidden, of pretending there was nothing between you, felt like a bitter pill to swallow.
“I get it, Chiara,” you said finally, meeting her gaze with determination. “I’m not going to let them turn this into a scandal. Lando and I…we’re professionals first. We’ll handle this.”
Chiara smiled, relieved by your response. “I know you will. Just keep in mind that perception is everything in this sport. And right now, you both have the world’s attention.”
With that, Chiara gave your arm a reassuring squeeze before heading off to her next order of business. You stood there, rooted to the spot for a moment, letting her words sink in. The exhilaration of the victory still buzzed through you, but it was now tinged with the sobering reality of the situation. The weight of her advice pressed down on your shoulders, reminding you that nothing in this world came without its complications.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair, dislodging tiny droplets of champagne that sprayed out like glittering confetti. The sticky remnants of the podium celebration clung to you, a tangible reminder of the night’s highs. What you needed now was a serious shower—something to wash away not just the champagne, but the lingering tension from your conversation with Chiara.
As you made your way toward the team’s private quarters, the hum of activity in the paddock slowly faded, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Chiara’s words echoed in your mind, a reminder of the reality you both lived in—a world where every glance, every gesture, could be dissected and spun into a narrative you had little control over. The media would indeed be relentless, and the fans, always watching, would be insatiable in their curiosity. But how could you distance yourself from something—or someone—that had become so central to your life, to your happiness? The chemestry you shared with Lando was undeniable, and no amount of PR maneuvering could erase what you felt for him.
As you reached the lockers, you turned on the shower, eagerly anticipating the soothing warmth of the water to ease the tension knotted in your muscles. The promise of relief was a welcome thought after the intensity of the day.
You let out a small sigh, beginning to discard your champagne-soaked clothes. The polo that had clung to your skin now felt heavy, both physically and metaphorically, as you peeled it off and tossed it into the laundry bin. The day’s victories and challenges seemed to weigh on you all at once. The exhilaration of the win, the tension with Lando, the quiet moments where everything between you felt so effortless—they all mingled in your mind, creating a cocktail of emotions that left you feeling both intoxicated and exhausted.
You stood there for a moment, stripped down to your underwear, the cool air of the locker room a welcome contrast to the heat of the day. Lost in thought, you hadn’t even noticed Lando entering until you felt his presence, a subtle shift in the air that made the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The realization of how exposed you were hit you all at once—half-naked and vulnerable in more ways than one.
Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but something in the way Lando looked at you made you pause. His eyes, darker now with an intensity that was impossible to ignore, roamed over your body, lingering on the curves and lines revealed by your lack of clothing. The heat that flushed your cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way his gaze set your skin ablaze. You couldn't meet his gaze fully, not when you were absolutely sure it would burn you from the inside.
He murmured your name, his voice low, vibrating with a tension that matched the fire in his eyes. The way he said it, the way his gaze traced over you, made it feel like a caress. “Look at me.”
There was a challenge in his tone, and you met it head-on, your breath catching as your eyes locked with his. In the fluorescent lighting of the locker room, his features seemed more defined, his jawline sharper, his lips fuller.
There was no mistaking the desire that simmered just beneath the surface, a reflection of the same need that pulsed through your veins. It was as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you, the space between you crackling with a chemistry that had been building for far too long.
Lando took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours, and with each inch he closed, the air around you seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation. He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the scent of his skin—champagne and amber with a hint of the adrenaline that still lingered from the race—filling your senses.
The silence stretched between you, and yet, it was as if an entire conversation was taking place, unspoken but understood. Every fiber of your being was attuned to him, the tension between you palpable. "I can practically hear that big brain of yours working overtime." he said, his voice even lower now, almost a rumble. His hand reached out, fingertips brushing lightly against your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in their wake. The touch was gentle, but it was enough to make you shiver, your skin hypersensitive to every point of contact.
The last remnants of your resolve began to crumble, and you could see the same struggle playing out in Lando’s eyes. There was a flicker of hesitation, a silent question hanging in the space between you—whether to cross this line, to take what you both so clearly wanted.
But then he stepped even closer, his hand sliding up your arm to your shoulder, his fingers tracing the curve of your collarbone. The touch was light, almost reverent, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid between you. His eyes followed the path his hand made, and when he looked back up at you, there was no more hesitation, only a hunger that mirrored your own.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, his voice rough around the edges, as though he was barely holding himself back.
You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, a familiar ache begging to be satisfied. With every brush of his fingers, you felt your resolve crumbling.
You tilted your chin up, your lips parting in invitation. The look in his eyes was pure need, a reflection of the desire coursing through you. He leaned in, his breath warm on your lips, his scent simply intoxicating now that it was mixed with the sharp fruity champagne.
It was as if time had slowed down, and all you could focus on was the heat of his body, the anticipation of his touch, the promise of everything that would come next. And then, finally, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through your body.
The feel of his lips on yours was electric, sending sparks racing across your skin. His mouth moved against yours, hungry and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. You opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss, savoring the taste of him. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before—the combination of the champagne, the adrenaline, and the sheer relief of finally giving in to the chemistry that had been simmering between you was enough to make your head spin.
As his hands roamed over your bare skin, igniting a trail of heat wherever they touched, you could feel your body responding, the desire building with every passing second. He kissed you like a man starved, and you met his hunger with your own, matching his pace. Your hands found his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms, the heat of his skin drawing you in like a magnet. He was solid and real beneath your touch, and you pressed yourself against him, the sensation of his body against yours igniting something primal and uncontrollable inside you.
Lando’s breath hitched at the contact, his hands splaying across your back, fingers digging in just enough to send a shiver down your spine. His mouth hovered just inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter between you, ready to snap.
“Lando,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, more a plea than anything else.
That was all it took to break the final thread of restraint. There was no gentleness now, only the raw, urgent need that had been simmering between you for what felt like forever.
You kissed him back with equal fervour, your hands sliding up to tangle in his damp curls, pulling him even closer as his hands roamed over your back, your waist, every inch of skin he could reach. The heat of his body, the taste of him on your lips—it was overwhelming in the best possible way, drowning out every thought that wasn’t about him, about this.
Lando’s hands found the clasp of your bra, and with a practiced flick, he had it undone, the fabric slipping away as his hands moved to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp against his mouth. The sound seemed to fuel him, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as he backed you up against the lockers, the cool metal a sharp contrast to the heat between you.
You could feel the solid press of his body against yours, his arousal evident as he pinned you to the lockers, his hands never ceasing their exploration. Reaching your panties, his fingers slid under the band, tugging them down in one smooth motion, his movements sure and confident, as if he knew exactly what he wanted. The sheer contrast of standing before him completely naked while he remained fully clothed amplified the raw vulnerability of the moment, making it feel intensely intimate and charged with a potent, almost primal, energy.
Your own hands moved lower, sliding down his clothed chest, his hard abs, until you reached the waistband of his pants. The feel of his muscles tensing under your touch sent another wave of desire through you, and you wasted no time in slipping your hand beneath the fabric, finding his impressive length and trying to wrap your fingers around him.
His forehead resting against yours as he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes closing as the friction elicited a rush of pleasure that had him breaking the kiss to let out a curse. For a moment, he just stood there, his breath ragged, his hands tightening on your hips, as if trying to steady himself.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire, and the raw honesty of it sent a thrill through you.
“Good,” you replied, your own voice husky with need, your hand beginning to move with deliberate strokes that had him groaning, his head dropping to your shoulder as he tried to keep himself in check. He reached for his fireproofs and pulled them off, his movements almost frantic. You helped him, pushing the fabric over his hips, revealing the perfection of his physique.
You couldn't help but stare at him, taking in the lean, sculpted lines of his body, the taut muscles that flexed with each movement. You inhaled a sharp breath as your eyes finally landed on his cock, hard and swollen with desire. You were no stranger to the male anatomy as your hormones and curiosity had gotten the best of you in the past, but you were starting to become nervous about taking his impressive size inside of you.
Before your brain could spiral too far, you felt Lando's hands on you, his touch firm but gentle, his calloused fingertips sending shivers of pleasure through your body as he traced patterns along your skin, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you. The chemistry between you had ignited into a full-blown inferno, and neither of you had any intention of putting it out.
In a fluid motion, Lando lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you over to the shower that had been steaming in anticipation. You giggled as the warm water hit your skin, the tension between you melting away as the shower cascaded over you both.
"I've been wanting to do this since the moment I saw you," he said, his voice low and rough, the sound of it sending a shiver of anticipation down to your core.
"Then don't make me wait any longer," you replied, a challenge and a plea, and the heat that flared in his eyes at the words was enough to make you burn for him.
He lowered his mouth to yours, the kiss slow and deep, a delicious contrast to the urgency. His hand reached between your legs, finding the wetness there and stroking with just the right amount of pressure, his thumb circling your clit and making you gasp into his mouth. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, and he used it against you, building you up slowly but surely, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter with every expert movement of his hand.
You clung to him, your nails digging into the slick skin of his back, a desperate attempt to anchor yourself against the waves of pleasure that threatened to consume you. He entered two of his thick fingers making you whimper at the stretch. His free hand was on the side of your face, tilting it up to capture your lips with his, kissing you with a tenderness that belied the urgency of the situation. You knew he was trying his best to prepare you for his cock, but it was a lot. He was a lot.
"I don't think you're going to fit," you whispered, feeling embarrassed, but he just smiled, his fingers still working their magic.
"Oh, I will," he promised, and you felt a jolt of desire shoot through you at the certainty in his voice.
The words sent a rush of heat through you, and you felt yourself clenching around his fingers, the pleasure intensifying as he stroked your g-spot with precision. Lando swallowed your moans, the feel of his body pressed against yours, the warmth of the water surrounding you, and the expert movements of his hand bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He was relentless, his fingers working you relentlessly until the pleasure became too much, the tension snapping and sending you crashing over the edge.
The orgasm tore through you, leaving you trembling in its wake, and Lando held you close, his hands gentle now as he supported you. You were gasping for air, the feeling so intense it was almost overwhelming. He murmured your name, his voice soft and low, the sound of it making something inside you ache.
You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, the intensity of his eyes almost enough to make you forget how to breathe.
"I've got you," he murmured, his voice full of emotion, and in that moment, you believed him.
Slowly, the haze of pleasure began to clear, and you became aware of the tension coiled in his body, the way his muscles were taut with restraint, the evidence of his own desire pressed against your thigh. He was still rock-hard, and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you, to experience that connection on a deeper level.
"I'm ready," you breathed, your voice laced with a need that you could no longer deny.
He nodded as he turned you around, pressing your face against the cool tile, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the water. Your breath hitched as he lined up his cock with your entrance, the blunt tip already threatening to breach you. He gathered some of your moisture by rubbing his tip against your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.
"I'll go slow," he whispered, as his other hand grabbed your neck, forcing you to arch your back. He took a moment to burn this very image in his mind. He had thought about this moment countless times before, but now that it was happening, it was even better than he could have imagined.
With a slow, deliberate push, he was able to get the head inside. Your eyes shut as you felt the stretch, his girth much more than you were used to. You let out a whimper as you reached for the hand currently holding your neck, seeking his support. You could hear him mutter under his breath, the words too quiet for you to make out. You assumed it was a string of curse words, but you didn't dare look.
With his hand gripping your hip, he pushed deeper, slowly but steadily, inch by inch. You could feel every vein on his perfect cock, the stretch dancing on the edge of pain and pleasure. He kept stopping, pulling back a bit and then pushing deeper again. You could tell he was doing his best to let you adjust to his size, but it was still a struggle.
Once he bottomed out, he groaned as you let out a sound that you've never heard yourself make before. A mixture between a moan and gasp. His hands traveled up your body, finding your breasts and giving them a squeeze, before settling on your shoulders. You could feel the water trickling down your back as the steam created a haze around the two of you. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath. You could feel his hot breath against your ear.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice rough, a mixture of desire and concern.
"Yes," you answered, not even recognizing your own voice, "I'm just a little...full."
He chuckled at that, his cock twitching inside you. He slowly started moving his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls lighting up every nerve in your body. You couldn't string two thoughts together as he started creating a torturous rhythm. One of his hands travelled down to your bundle of nerves, pinching it with every thrust.
"Fuck," you cursed, "fuck, fuck, fuck." You couldn't believe how drunk you were on him.
He chuckled as he grabbed you from the now warm tile, resting you flat against his front. The new angle allowed him to reach deeper, making you whimper and whine with every thrust. His hands reached for your jaw, tilting it so he could stare deeply into your eyes. He was watching every reaction, every change in your expression.
"Tell me what you feel." he demanded, his voice hoarse, and you forced yourself to open your eyes, meeting his gaze. The intensity of his stare was almost enough to send you over the edge again, but you clung to the last threads of your self-control, desperate to prolong this moment.
"I feel...I feel everything," you gasped, the words barely more than a whisper. “I’ve never felt like this b—"
He silenced you with a kiss, swallowing the rest of your words. It was a clash of tongues and teeth, a battle for dominance that neither of you could win. The heat between you was unbearable, the need for release consuming every thought. You knew he was close, could feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the way his thrusts were becoming more erratic, less controlled. But you weren't ready to let go, not yet.
You pulled away from the kiss, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Please don't stop," you begged, your voice rough with need, "I need you, Lando."
That was all it took. His eyes darkened, and he let out a growl, his grip on your jaw tightening as he captured your lips again, the kiss almost violent in its intensity. It was as if a switch had been flipped, the raw hunger between you reaching a new level.
He fucked into you with wild abandon, his hips snapping as he chased his release. The pleasure was blinding, the sensation of his cock filling you, stretching you, sending you spiraling toward the edge. You could feel the tension building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until you could no longer hold back.
The orgasm crashed over you like a wave, stealing the air from your lungs as your body shuddered in his arms. Your eyes closed, the white light behind your eyelids pulsing in time with the waves of pleasure washing over you. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only cling to him as you rode out the storm.
Lando buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips finding the delicate skin there, sucking and nibbling. You could feel the pleasure building again, the combination of his cock inside you, his hands gripping your hips, his lips against your neck sending you hurtling toward another climax.
"I'm close," he panted, his voice rough with need, "so close, fuck."
The words sent a surge of heat through you, and you clenched around him, feeling him shudder as his own release washed over him. You grabbed as his curls, forcing him to look at you, the intensity of his gaze pushing you over the edge again, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
"Fuck, I can feel you," he gasped, his cock twitching inside you as your core milked him, the sensation of his release triggering another wave of pleasure.
You both clung to each other, riding out the waves, the intensity of the moment rendering you speechless. You were both gasping for air, the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your bodies. Lando buried his face in your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin, the sensation almost too much to bear.
You stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other's arms, the only sound the steady beat of the water as it cascaded over you. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so sated, so utterly spent.
Finally, Lando pulled back, his eyes searching yours, his expression a mix of emotions—relief, contentment, and a hint of something else, something that sent a thrill through you. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle, almost reverent.
"That was...fuck," he said, his voice rough, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You grinned, the joy and satisfaction evident in every line of your body. You could feel him slowly softening inside you, and you reluctantly unwrapped your legs, letting him slide out of you. You gasped feeling yourself become sore already. He chuckled as he noticed, turning off the water and wrapping you in a towel, gently drying you off before lifting you up in his arms.
"You're gonna kill me," he muttered, a spark of humor in his voice, and you laughed, the sound echoing off the tiles, the sound carefree and light.
You kissed him, slow and deep, the kiss full of promises and possibilities. This was only the beginning, and you both knew it. You pulled back, gazing at him with a mixture of awe and admiration, your heart full of the realization of what you'd found, the connection between you now undeniable.
"Get that perfect ass to media duty before they start sending out a search party," you teased, a chuckle escaping as you watched the realization of his looming responsibilities flicker across his face.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, giving you a quick peck on the lips before setting you down, "but just know, this was the best shower I've ever taken."
You smirked, unable to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. "I'll keep that in mind."
As he left, a sense of calm washed over you, the satisfaction of the moment lingering in the air like a sweet perfume. The memory of his touch, the weight of his body against yours, the deliciously filthy sounds he had coaxed from you, would stay with you forever, a private treasure. You sighed, reveling in the warmth and comfort that seemed to envelop you, the afterglow of your tryst still humming through your veins.
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