#what is masters in business administration | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clxja16 · 2 years ago

Text

Enough

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: betrayal (?)

Warnings: I think there's some swearing, angst

Word Count: 5K+

Author's Note: Okay you guys voted for this one, and honestly I thought that the fake dating trope was going to win but I guess not. also I kind of need help with the genre, because its not really forbidden lovers. Like is there a genre of your parents betraying your trust in the name of protecting you??? but anyway lmk what you guys think. Actually please tell me what you think, because I'm scared I made this too dramatic. enjoy though <3

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

You lingered in one of the back halls before the start of qualifying. It was the Austrian Grand Prix. You looked around making sure that no one was in sight. Charles started to giggle at your antics of keeping this under wraps. You pulled at him, trying to push him right out the door.

“Go back to your garage,” you say gently pushing Charles further out the back entry of the Mercedes garage.

“After I get a good luck kiss?” Charles asks, as he holds his hands up in surrender.

You shake your head at him, before saying, “quickly, before someone sees us,” pulling Charles into a kiss, by his race suit. Charles grabs your face with both hands, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss further. You pull away first, worried about who might catch you sneaking about the garage halls, “okay now go, I’ll see you tonight.”

Charles doesn’t let go of your face, pulling you back in for a quick peck on the lips, “okay I’m going.” Charles finally lets you go, and shoots you a quick wink before walking off.

You turn back around to take your place in the garage next to your father, when you hear him calling out for you. You look back to see Charles has walked just far enough away to be out of sight, as your father turns the corner to come face to face with you. You let out a breath of relief that they missed each other. “y/n,” your father calls to your attention, “let’s get settled, qualifying is about to start.”

“Yes, daddy,” you answer, following after your father, to watch qualifying.

You have just finished your degree, a Masters in Business Administration from HBS and a Masters of Science from Harvard John A. Paulson SEAS. It took you nearly 5 and a half years to complete, but you did it regardless. Now, you attend the races to better learn how to apply the knowledge learnt in school to running a formula one team. This is all so that one day you will take over the formula one team from your father.

As you watched George and Lewis set out to do their first few qualifying laps of the session, you longed for it to be you in those cars. You really didn't dream of being behind the scenes, you dream of being up front and center, in the limelight, in the car. You wanted to set the fastest lap, you wanted to be getting grand prix victories, you wanted to win championships. However, you didn’t get a seat in formula 2, so your parents did the ‘reasonable’ thing and sent you off to school, instead of waiting around for the chance of a seat opening up.

“Look here,” your father spoke to you, as he pointed at some data on one of the many monitors in front of him.

“George is a tenth too early,” you say, trying your best to understand the data in front of you.

“Yes, exactly, good,” your father praises, before speaking with a couple of the race engineers. “Now we don’t want George to overly focus on what is going wrong, so we praise, advice and praise again.” You listen to the radio as the engineer, compliments George on his turn 3 and 4, critiques his turn 7, and compliments his turn 10 and 11. “When you take over, you have to remember that you are going to have to manage the drivers' psyche as well as their driving.”

“Father, I won’t be taking over for a long time, you’re gonna need to find someone in between you and me, to manage the team.”

“No,” your father declares, like his decision is final, “I will retire late, and you will start early.”

“Yes Father,” you say, no reason to start an argument now.

“Congratulations on another podium,” you spoke sweetly to Charles at the end of the Austrian grand prix weekend. You and him were hiding out in his hotel room, trying your best to stay away from the cameras, from fans and most importantly from your father.

“It’s only the second podium of the season,” Charles said as he dried his hair with the towel while walking out of the bathroom. “We’re so far behind this season, it’s laughable.”

“You could always make the move to Mercedes, Daddy would love to have you racing for him,” you say, as you wrap your arms around Charles, after he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

You can hear Charles chuckle a little, before turning around to face you. “Never,” he says with a smile, pushing you back down on the bed, kissing you deeply. You can’t contain the laughter that spills from your lips.

“We would make sure you win championships,” you argue, teasing Charles once again.

“And who’s giving up a seat for me?” Charles asks, as he moves from your lips down your neck, spreading his kisses all around.

“Lewis isn’t going to stay much longer,” you reveal.

“What?” Charles asked, as he pulled away to look at you. The seriousness setting in.

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you start off, as you sit up in the bed, looking at Charles deeply, “Daddy offered Lewis another four years, Lewis said he only wanted to sign on for two more right now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, “believe it or not, Lewis does not reveal his intentions to me like you do.”

Charles cracks a smile hearing you tease, “well, maybe I could do Mercedes silver,” he says as he goes back to kissing you.

You and Charles spend the night together, as the two of you have done many times before. The next morning, you try to sneak out early enough where no one notices your empty hotel room. Charles makes your heart feel full, being around him makes you feel at peace, he wears your worries like his own. He’s everything you ever wanted and needed, and more. You know that there was no plausible way you could keep this a secret any longer. You love him too much to pretend nothing is going on. Although, you also know that your father would not be the happiest, he always said drivers weren’t the type of people you bring home. However Charles is different, you know he’s what you need, you know that you can bring him home.

When you did make it back to your own hotel room, you don’t think anyone checked in on the empty room. You made quick work of packing up your belongings, your father was flying out of Vienna this afternoon, to get a jumpstart on Silverstone. It being a home grand prix for both of your drivers, the entire week was packed with events. All events in which you had to attend.

After arriving in Silverstone, did you finally take a breather. George and Lewis both went to visit their families for the first day. This allowed you and your father to spend some time away from the race track. Father instead just went to the factory, and spent some time in the office. You on the other hand went out with Mamma, before she had to head down to Monza for the F1 Academy race.

“Mamma,” you called out to Susie, “do you think Daddy is serious about me taking over the team one day?”

Your question was enough to stop Susie in her tracks, “yes, I do think he’s serious about it.” She gave you a perplexed look. Your father has been talking about you taking over the team since you went off to college. He is determined that with his recommendation the board will approve for the team principal position.

“I don’t know if that’s what I want to do though,” you say truthfully. “I don’t know if I can handle being so close, but not being able to race.” As much as your mind was focused on being a team principal, your heart wanted to drive.

Susie came up to you, pushing your hair behind your ear, holding your face. She had a gentle smile on her face, but there was a sadness behind her eyes that you couldn’t place. “You are racing, if you take over the team, you are still a part of the race, but if you walk away, you will only be a spectator.”

You sigh, you know she’s right, “you’re right, like you always are.”

Susie laughs at your joke, “tell your Father because he never seems convinced that I’m always right.”

You laugh, as you and Susie enter the restaurant for lunch. “Mamma, can I ask you another question?”

“Of course sweetheart,” Susie answers worryingly, you are not normally this ominous.

“Would you be upset if I started seeing a driver?”

Susie doesn’t hide the shock on her face, after your question, “who is it?” She smirks at you, you weren’t the best at hiding your feelings from Susie. She was the first to know about your first boyfriend in High school. She was the first to know about the guy who cheated on you. She was the first to know about the college boy you wanted to bring home. And she was the first to know that none of them were enough to match you.

“It’s no one, it's just a hypothetical, Mamma.”

“Who, sweetheart?”

You debate for a second about how to answer, but you know you can’t lie. You gave away too much, and Susie knows you only use ‘hypothetical’ when it's real. “Charles.”

“Leclerc?” Susie doesn’t mask her shock for a single second.

“Mamma,” you whine at her reaction.

“Sweetheart, your father is gonna have an aneurysm when he hears this.”

“Mamma,” you whine again, this time more seriously, as you feel the water works coming on.

“Sweetheart?” Susie questions, her face going from shock to stone cold serious as she sees how upset you are. “This is serious.”

You sigh, “I really like him, Mamma. He makes me very happy.” You look at Susie, and you don’t like the look she has even more.

She looks very seriously at you, while also having the ‘its not good’ look. “Your father is not going to like this,” she says honestly, “but,” you watch Susie as she begins to smile, “if you’re happy, that is what's important.”

You begin to smile as well, “Daddy will get over it right?”

“I hope so,” Susie says truthfully. You were Toto’s oldest, nothing would ever be good enough for you. You were his pride and joy, you were the first, and as the first, you are everything to your father. Susie knows this, and she knows that no matter how much Charles tries, Toto still won’t think he’s good enough for you.

Susie reminds you that the best way to handle this, is to inform your father sooner rather than later. You agree, but you want to make sure that you and Charles are on the same page as well. Thursday night, once again you are hiding out in Charles' hotel room, instead of staying in your own room. The two of you cuddle together on the bed as a movie plays on the TV.

“Charles,” you start off softly, afraid to disturb the delicate peace that’s settled across the room, “where do you see this going?”

“What do you mean by that?” Charles asked, as he glanced at you.

“Us, our relationship, where do you see it going?” You stared at Charles, while listening to his steady heartbeat.

“I don’t know,” Charles answers, his answer holds a brutal truth that you don’t like, you sit up to look at Charles, “but, I hope it goes far and long.” Charles continues to lay in bed while you stare at him, “ I hope that it gets out of hotel rooms, and garage halls, and private phone calls. I hope it gets you into some red Ferrari gear,” you smile at Charles’ preposterous hope, “I hope that it gets further than this. I love you y/n.”

“I love you too,” you reassure.

“Why do you ask me that ma chère?”

“I’m going to tell my father about us,” you say, “and your plans to move to Mercedes.” You just have to tease him a little bit.

Charles laughs at you, “you mean your plans to be a Ferrari fan from now on.” And he always knew how to handle your teasing.

You laugh going to kiss Charles, “that’s so much work,” you say with another kiss, “you should just switch teams.”

Charles laughs sarcastically, he loves the banter. “y/n,” he calls. It stops you, he never uses your name, “I really do love you.” He’s probably told you this same sentiment over a thousand times, but each time, it still feels like the first time.

Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling, “I love you too.” Somehow these ‘I love you's' are different, they’re more significant, more meaningful, more genuine, more heartfelt, more profound. They’re more serious, because they’re not just ‘I love you,’ they’re a promise, a commitment, a lifetime, together.

“Daddy, please can you be rational about this?” You ask as you follow your father about the Monaco home. Trying to get him to stop complaining about your choices in men.

“Why couldn’t you date George, at least you would still be supporting Mercedes,” your Father says as the two of you make your way into the kitchen to see Mamma and Jack.

“Mamma do you hear him?” You ask, indicating your father as ‘him.’ “George is very much in a relationship, Father”

“And what’s wrong with Lewis?” Your father clearly is not thinking about the age difference between you and Lewis.

You looked to Mamma to see if your father was serious, and even she was shocked with the suggestion, “you would be okay with me dating someone that is 14 years my senior?” you ask with a brow raised to your father, “you’ve convinced me Daddy, I will stop seeing Charles and start seeing Lewis.”

Your father sighs, “that is not what I…”

“Daddy, I invited Charles over for dinner, tomorrow night, that way you can properly meet him as my partner, instead of as a driver.” You tell your father, hoping that you're just imagining the steaming coming out of his ears, “one dinner, Daddy, that’s all. He makes me really happy.”

“Okay,” your Father says. You don’t miss the slight eye roll he gives though.

“Thank you Daddy,” you say, giving him a hug, before running off to your room like a teenage girl to call Charles and let him know about dinner tomorrow night.

After your father hears your bedroom door shut, does he turn to his wife. “Susie,” he calls out, still listening for you, to see if you were coming back out. “A word, privately.”

“Okay,” Susie answers a bit confused about the request, she turns to Jack, “why don’t you go play for right now.” Jack nods along excitedly, before running out the room. “Toto, what is it?”

“She can’t date Charles.” Toto says, turning his full attention to his wife.

“What?”

“Susie, I have seen the drivers in relationships. They have their girlfriend one weekend, then they have a club girl the next weekend, and then some lucky fan the following weekend. Charles is no different.” Toto doesn’t hold back in his recounting of the drivers stepping out on their partners, “y/n is gonna get hurt, and her entire image will be tainted by being cheated on by Charles.”

“Toto don’t you think you’re being a little unfair.” Susie tries her best to defend Charles, but she knows Toto is telling the truth. She’s seen it too, from a number of drivers amongst the ranks throughout the years.

“Charles is a hell of a driver, but I'm not gonna allow him to ruin my daughter.” Toto declares as final, “we need to find a way to stop them from seeing each other before the public catches wind of their relationship.”

“Toto,” Susie takes a breath, if they do this, they would have to tread very carefully, or they could end more than just your relationship with Charles. “If she ever finds out that we are interfering in her life like this, she won’t forgive us, she's not a kid anymore.”

“She wasn’t a kid when we pulled her from racing,” Toto drags up a long forgotten and regretted moment, “we do what we have to, to protect our children, regardless of how it may look.”

“We’ll need to play this close to the vest.”

To say the evening was filled with tension and awkwardness would be an understatement. Your father continuously gave Charles dirty looks throughout the night, and you wanted to slap him for being so childish. Susie was pleasant throughout the evening. Jack was just being Jack. He probably talked the most, asking Charles about what it was like to be a real race car driver.

“This is a very lovely meal,” Charles says to Susie. You appreciate him trying his best to not ruffle your father’s feathers.

“Thank you Charles,” Susie appreciates the compliments. She doesn’t know what is best, because Toto is determined to stop you and Charles from seeing each other.

“Charles, did you ever pee in the car?” Jack asks, as he shovels another pile of food in his mother.

“Jack,” you say in a scolding manner, while Charles just laughs at the question.

Charles has to take a sip of water before answering, “I try my best to make sure I use the bathroom before I get into the car.”

“Enough questions Jack,” you say to your little brother, getting irritated with how much he was talking.

“I just wanted to ask the racecar driver,” Jack pouts. He makes that face with an exaggerated frown, that almost makes you feel guilty.

“Jack, we’re all race car drivers. Me, Mamma and Daddy have all raced cars before and you never ask us.” you argue back, you almost feel stupid that you have to argue with a five year old.

“But you didn’t make it to formula 1,” Jack points out, and now you don’t feel guilty, you just feel sad that Jack had to point out one of your biggest regrets in life.

“Jack,” Susie says, scolding your brother.

“I didn’t know you raced,” Charles says, turning to look at you.

You smile, thinking back to the time, “Yeah, I did karting for years, then I did formula renault, F4 and F3.”

“Why did you stop?” Charles asks, wondering how you could give it up.

“I didn’t get a seat in Formula two, and the agreement was if I could get a seat I could race, but I wouldn’t pass up opportunities to race. I got into college, so I gave up racing and went back to school.” You reveal to Charles, he can hear the regret in your voice, but he chooses not to point it out. You don’t see that look Susie and Toto exchange when they hear your retelling of events.

“I see,” Charles says, “It’s a shame, I think you would’ve been a hell of a driver.”

You chuckle at Charles, “I would definitely have more wins than you by now,” you tease.

“Oh?” Charles smirks at you, “you would?”

“Of course I would, because I would be driving for Mercedes, for sure.” You chuckle at your own joke.

Charles shakes his head at you, his smile spreading far and wide. Susie watches you and Charles, she's been watching you throughout the night and she knows Charles is enough for you. She knows that this is your person, that they will never be another that will be able to compete with Charles. It's him or nothing.

You skip the Hungarian grand prix, especially as the media releases pictures of you and Charles, going back to the Monaco Grand Prix. Your father thought it best that you stay home, he wasn’t sure how people would react to the relationship news. You spent a few days before your father left for Hungary, arguing with him that it was unfair to bench you, because of the possibility that fans won’t like the news.

Clearly, your father won that argument as you sat at home in Monaco, watching the sessions through the TV, instead of being there in person. What Toto doesn’t tell you, is that he wants you home, so that he can meet with Fred without you getting suspicious.

After the qualifying session, Toto asked Fred, the team principal of Ferrari, to join him for dinner. As the two men met away from the paddock, away from the cameras, from the drivers, from the team. They sat in a private dining room, in an elite restaurant. Only here did Toto feel comfortable asking what he was about to ask.

“What are we doing here Toto?” Fred asks, as he sips the beer he ordered. Fred wouldn’t say it, betraying his French roots, but he always preferred a bottle of beer over a glass of wine.

“Fred, I have a favor to ask,” Toto requests, he ignores his gut feeling telling him that this is wrong, and continues on, “I want you to delay Charles' contract signing.”

“Why would I do that?” Fred asks, delaying a contract signing seems like it’s not a big deal, but there's many implications to what that could mean.

“You would do it, because then I will be in debt to you,” Toto says, he's thought about this, he knows his way through a negotiation.

“Okay,” Fred says, he has a reason to do so, but what is Toto’s reason for asking? “Now why do you need me to do this?”

Toto sighs, “y/n.”

“Your daughter, I saw the news about her Charles,” Fred pauses, taking another sip of the beer, “well actually Charles told me about the relationship back in Miami.”

“Miami?” Toto questions, “she didn’t tell me until after silverstone.”

“Charles said he wanted me to know before the public knew, would like to know what else he said?”

“What?” Toto sighs, once more.

“Charles said he wants to do this right, that he is serious about her,” Fred offers.

“We’ve both heard drivers say one thing and do another,” Toto fixes his posture, sitting up in the chair, “I won’t allow my daughter’s image to be run through by Charles.”

“So you want me to delay a contract signing, to do what? So you can scare Charles into picking a seat over your daughter? And what happens when he picks your daughter over his seat?” Fred sits up in his chair as well, looking Toto square in the eyes.

“If he picks my daughter over his seat, then I know he’s serious about her,” Toto stands upm buttoning his jacket, “but we both know he won’t do that.” Toto sticks out his hand for Fred to shake.

Fred stands to shake Toto’s hand, “this doesn’t mean I agreed to anything.”

“You will agree,” Toto smiles, a little amused at the situation, “we both know me in debt to you is too valuable to pass up.”

Since the news of your relationship has been made public, you and Charles are seen together around the paddock during the Belgian Grand Prix a lot more. Although you guys did try to keep it as professional as possible, there weren't any public displays of affection between the two of you. However, that went straight out the window after the race podium celebration.

Instead of watching the podium you stayed in the garage with your father, since there wasn’t a Mercedes on the podium. As soon as Charles was done with the podium celebration, he ran straight into the Mercedes garage to collect a celebratory kiss from you. His, sweaty, champagne-covered, sticky self, pulling you into a tight hug with a deep kiss. He had one arm wrapped around your waist, while his other hand held onto his trophy. You were taken aback by the initial kiss, but soon you cupped his cheek and held him close.

Charles would’ve kissed you longer, but he could feel the cameras on the two of you. When he finally did pull away, you were a giggling mess that you didn’t even notice the cameras at first. “Let’s go,” Charles whispers to you, “let’s get out of here.”

You wanted desperately to leave right then and there with Charles, “I can’t,” you say. You watch his smile drop just a little, “I have work to finish,” you say while giving the side eye to where your father sat in the Mercedes garage, watching you and Charles. “And you have a press conference.”

“Okay, after that then.” Charles says, kissing you on the cheek this time.

“After that.”

That night, while you and Charles celebrated his podium finish, the picture of you and him making out in the Mercedes garage after his podium celebrations, hit social media. That photo is more talked about than Max’s 8th grand prix win in a row. That photo is in all the group chats around the paddock. That photo makes it to the official formula 1 social media pages. And the biggest take away is your father’s face in the background of the photo. Everytime you look at it, you laugh knowing that your father most likely made that face subconsciously.

Since summer break has begun, you spend more time with Charles than at home with your family. Today, you just so happen to need a few things from your closet, that you stopped in the Monaco home. That is when you could overhear your parents talking in your father’s office.

“We need to be more discreet about this now,” your father says to Mamma.

“Toto, I don’t think this is right. It’s not fair to y/n or Charles,” Susie says. Normally you wouldn’t eavesdrop on your parents, but the mention of you and Charles caught your attention.

“I am trying to protect our daughter,” Toto says, and you can’t help but think. What is your father trying to protect you from?

“This isn’t protecting her, this is your fear about what could happen,” Susie says. You can hear in your mamma voice, she’s getting defensive.

“Like how your fear pulled her from racing,” Toto says in a raised voice. You’re completely confused as to what your father could mean with that statement.

There’s a pause. It goes silent for a second, and you listen closer. “I was saving her life, we weren’t sure what the FIA would do after Jules.” There’s a pain in Susie’s voice.

“Safety measures were put in place,” Toto argues.

“After you pushed back on them.”

“I have changed my position on the halo, you know that,” Toto says. Even though the wood doors separate you from seeing your parents, you can clearly imagine what this fight is looking like.

“After Lewis almost dies!” Mamma never shouts, is your singular thought after hearing that statement. “What if you had gotten your way and the halo was never placed? What if it was our daughter in that car? I pulled her from racing to save her life, because you sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.” Susie pulls open the office door to see you standing on the other side. You watch her face drop from anger to sadness quickly. “Sweetheart…”

“Mamma… you pulled me from racing?” You question as the tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Sweetheart…” Susie repeats, shes at a complete loss for words.

“You told me that I wasn’t picked up for a seat.” you take a breath before you start crying, “was that the truth?”

“Darling,” Toto calls out to you.

“Was it the truth?” You ask again, this time you make the hurt evident in your voice, “you told me a team didn’t want to pick me for F2, was that the truth?”

“You weren’t anybody’s first choice,” Susie pauses, “but you were on the list.” You feel your break, as you start to cry. “We worked a few negotiations to ensure that you didn’t get picked. We worked to pull you from racing.”

You were a hyperventilating mess, you couldn’t stop the tears, the sobs, the heartbreak from happening. “You told me…You told me, if I earned my seat without you or daddy interfering I could keep racing. You promised that you would let me race.”

“We wanted to protect you, we didn’t want what happened to Jules.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snap at Susie, “don’t use what happened to Jules as an excuse.” You walked away, racing up the stairs. Towards your bedroom, you could hear your parents rushed footsteps as they followed after you. You began to shove clothes into a bag, as you tried to violently wipe away the tears.

“Where are you going?” Your father asks in a calm voice.

“I’m gonna stay with Charles for a while.” When you mention Charles, you remembered the beginning of the conversation. You stopped packing your clothes. Slowly you turned to face your parents. “What did you do?”

“Excuse me?” your father questions.

“What did you do to Charles? Mamma said it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, whatever you were doing. What did you do to Charles daddy?” You’re out of breath, you fear whatever your father has to say.

You watch as your father sighs, he hangs his head. “I asked Fred to delay his contract signing. Ferrari wants to keep Charles, they’re going to give him whatever he wants. I asked for Fred to just hold off on signing the contract.”

You scoff at the revelation. “Just long enough to scare Charles into picking a seat over me. This is rich from the both of you.”

“Sweetheart…” Susie calls out to you as she reaches to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you snap once again. You couldn’t tell if you were really angry or sad or shocked, but you did know you were just hurt. Your parents had taken away your dreams, and they were trying to take away your love. “You took away racing,” you take a breath, you strip away all the excess, you let them hear the hurt in your voice, “I won’t let you take Charles away too.”

When you do make it Charles’ place. When he opens the door for you, he sees you silently crying and shaking. Your voice is hoarse already, that it’s only a whisper when you ask, “can I stay with you for a few days?”

“Of course,” Charles says as he welcomes you inside. When he finally closes the door, you drop your bag to the floor, and just hold onto Charles tightly. He wraps his arms around you, providing you with the comfort you longed for.

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

Part II

#formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc #formula 1 au #formula 1 angst #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #scuderia ferrari #f1 ferrari #f1 charles leclerc #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #toto wolff #toto wolff daughter #toto wolff au

2K notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago

Text

Tech monopolists use their market power to invade your privacy

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

It's easy to greet the FTC's new report on social media privacy, which concludes that tech giants have terrible privacy practices with a resounding "duh," but that would be a grave mistake.

Much to the disappointment of autocrats and would-be autocrats, administrative agencies like the FTC can't just make rules up. In order to enact policies, regulators have to do their homework: for example, they can do "market studies," which go beyond anything you'd get out of an MBA or Master of Public Policy program, thanks to the agency's legal authority to force companies to reveal their confidential business information.

Market studies are fabulous in their own right. The UK Competition and Markets Authority has a fantastic research group called the Digital Markets Unit that has published some of the most fascinating deep dives into how parts of the tech industry actually function, 400+ page bangers that pierce the Shield of Boringness that tech firms use to hide their operations. I recommend their ad-tech study:

https://www.gov.uk/cma-cases/online-platforms-and-digital-advertising-market-study

In and of themselves, good market studies are powerful things. They expose workings. They inform debate. When they're undertaken by wealthy, powerful countries, they provide enforcement roadmaps for smaller, poorer nations who are being tormented in the same way, by the same companies, that the regulator studied.

But market studies are really just curtain-raisers. After a regulator establishes the facts about a market, they can intervene. They can propose new regulations, and they can impose "conduct remedies" (punishments that restrict corporate behavior) on companies that are cheating.

Now, the stolen, corrupt, illegitimate, extremist, bullshit Supreme Court just made regulation a lot harder. In a case called Loper Bright, SCOTUS killed the longstanding principle of "Chevron deference," which basically meant that when an agency said it had built a factual case to support a regulation, courts should assume they're not lying:

https://jacobin.com/2024/07/scotus-decisions-chevron-immunity-loper

The death of Chevron Deference means that many important regulations – past, present and future – are going to get dragged in front of a judge, most likely one of those Texas MAGA mouth-breathers in the Fifth Circuit, to be neutered or killed. But even so, regulators still have options – they can still impose conduct remedies, which are unaffected by the sabotage of Chevron Deference.

Pre-Loper, post-Loper, and today, the careful, thorough investigation of the facts of how markets operate is the prelude to doing things about how those markets operate. Facts matter. They matter even if there's a change in government, because once the facts are in the public domain, other governments can use them as the basis for action.

Which is why, when the FTC uses its powers to compel disclosures from the largest tech companies in the world, and then assesses those disclosures and concludes that these companies engage in "vast surveillance," in ways that the users don't realize and that these companies "fail to adequately protect users, that matters.

What's more, the Commission concludes that "data abuses can fuel market dominance, and market dominance can, in turn, further enable data abuses and practices that harm consumers." In other words: tech monopolists spy on us in order to achieve and maintain their monopolies, and then they spy on us some more, and that hurts us.

So if you're wondering what kind of action this report is teeing up, I think we can safely say that the FTC believes that there's evidence that the unregulated, rampant practices of the commercial surveillance industry are illegal. First, because commercial surveillance harms us as "consumers." "Consumer welfare" is the one rubric for enforcement that the right-wing economists who hijacked antitrust law in the Reagan era left intact, and here we have the Commission giving us evidence that surveillance hurts us, and that it comes about as a result of monopoly, and that the more companies spy, the stronger their monopolies become.

But the Commission also tees up another kind of enforcement: Section 5, the long (long!) neglected power of the agency to punish companies for "unfair and deceptive methods of competition," a very broad power indeed:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

In the study, the Commission shows – pretty convincingly! – that the commercial surveillance sector routinely tricks people who have no idea how their data is being used. Most people don't understand, for example, that the platforms use all kinds of inducements to get web publishers to embed tracking pixels, fonts, analytics beacons, etc that send user-data back to the Big Tech databases, where it's merged with data from your direct interactions with the company. Likewise, most people don't understand the shadowy data-broker industry, which sells Big Tech gigantic amounts of data harvested by your credit card company, by Bluetooth and wifi monitoring devices on streets and in stores, and by your car. Data-brokers buy this data from anyone who claims to have it, including people who are probably lying, like Nissan, who claims that it has records of the smells inside drivers' cars, as well as those drivers' sex-lives:

https://nypost.com/2023/09/06/nissan-kia-collect-data-about-drivers-sexual-activity/

Or Cox Communications, which claims that it is secretly recording and transcribing the conversations we have in range of the mics on our speakers, phones, and other IoT devices:

https://www.404media.co/heres-the-pitch-deck-for-active-listening-ad-targeting/

(If there's a kernel of truth to Cox's bullshit, my guess it's that they've convinced some of the sleazier "smart TV" companies to secretly turn on their mics, then inflated this into a marketdroid's wet-dream of "we have logged every word uttered by Americans and can use it to target ads.)

Notwithstanding the rampant fraud inside the data brokerage industry, there's no question that some of the data they offer for sale is real, that it's intimate and sensitive, and that the people it's harvested from never consented to its collection. How do you opt out of public facial recognition cameras? "Just don't have a face" isn't a realistic opt-out policy.

And if the public is being deceived about the collection of this data, they're even more in the dark about the way it's used – merged with on-platform usage data and data from apps and the web, then analyzed for the purposes of drawing "inferences" about you and your traits.

What's more, the companies have chaotic, bullshit internal processes for handling your data, which also rise to the level of "deceptive and unfair" conduct. For example, if you send these companies a deletion request for your data, they'll tell you they deleted the data, but actually, they keep it, after "de-identifying" it.

De-identification is a highly theoretical way of sanitizing data by removing the "personally identifiers" from it. In practice, most de-identified data can be quickly re-identified, and nearly all de-identified data can eventually be re-identified:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/08/the-fire-of-orodruin/#are-we-the-baddies

Breaches, re-identification, and weaponization are extraordinarily hard to prevent. In general, we should operate on the assumption that any data that's collected will probably leak, and any data that's retained will almost certainly leak someday. To have even a hope of preventing this, companies have to treat data with enormous care, maintaining detailed logs and conducting regular audits. But the Commission found that the biggest tech companies are extraordinarily sloppy, to the point where "they often could not even identify all the data points they collected or all of the third parties they shared that data with."

This has serious implications for consumer privacy, obviously, but there's also a big national security dimension. Given the recent panic at the prospect that the Chinese government is using Tiktok to spy on Americans, it's pretty amazing that American commercial surveillance has escaped serious Congressional scrutiny.

After all, it would be a simple matter to use the tech platforms targeting systems to identify and push ads (including ads linking to malicious sites) to Congressional staffers ("under-40s with Political Science college degrees within one mile of Congress") or, say, NORAD personnel ("Air Force enlistees within one mile of Cheyenne Mountain").

Those targeting parameters should be enough to worry Congress, but there's a whole universe of potential characteristics that can be selected, hence the Commission's conclusion that "profound threats to users can occur when targeting occurs based on sensitive categories."

The FTC's findings about the dangers of all this data are timely, given the current wrangle over another antitrust case. In August, a federal court found that Google is a monopolist in search, and that the company used its data lakes to secure and maintain its monopoly.

This kicked off widespread demands for the court to order Google to share its data with competitors in order to erase that competitive advantage. Holy moly is this a bad idea – as the FTC study shows, the data that Google stole from us all is incredibly toxic. Arguing that we can fix the Google problem by sharing that data far and wide is like proposing that we can "solve" the fact that only some countries have nuclear warheads by "democratizing" access to planet-busting bombs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

To address the competitive advantage Google achieved by engaging in the reckless, harmful conduct detailed in this FTC report, we should delete all that data. Sure, that may seem inconceivable, but come on, surely the right amount of toxic, nonconsensually harvested data on the public that should be retained by corporations is zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction

Some people argue that we don't need to share out the data that Google never should have been allowed to collect – it's enough to share out the "inferences" that Google drew from that data, and from other data its other tentacles (Youtube, Android, etc) shoved into its gaping maw, as well as the oceans of data-broker slurry it stirred into the mix.

But as the report finds, the most unethical, least consensual data was "personal information that these systems infer, that was purchased from third parties, or that was derived from users’ and non-users’ activities off of the platform." We gotta delete that, too. Especially that.

A major focus of the report is the way that the platforms handled children's data. Platforms have special obligations when it comes to kids' data, because while Congress has failed to act on consumer privacy, they did bestir themselves to enact a children's privacy law. In 2000, Congress passed the Children's Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA), which puts strict limits on the collection, retention and processing of data on kids under 13.

Now, there are two ways to think about COPPA. One view is, "if you're not certain that everyone in your data-set is over 13, you shouldn't be collecting or processing their data at all." Another is, "In order to ensure that everyone whose data you're collecting and processing is over 13, you should collect a gigantic amount of data on all of them, including the under-13s, in order to be sure that not collecting under-13s' data." That second approach would be ironically self-defeating, obviously, though it's one that's gaining traction around the world and in state legislatures, as "age verification" laws find legislative support.

The platforms, meanwhile, found a third, even stupider approach: rather than collecting nothing because they can't verify ages, or collecting everything to verify ages, they collect everything, but make you click a box that says, "I'm over 13":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/09/how-to-make-a-child-safe-tiktok/

It will not surprise you to learn that many children under 13 have figured out that they can click the "I'm over 13" box and go on their merry way. It won't surprise you, but apparently, it will surprise the hell out of the platforms, who claimed that they had zero underage users on the basis that everyone has to click the "I'm over 13" box to get an account on the service.

By failing to pass comprehensive privacy legislation for 36 years (and counting), Congress delegated privacy protection to self-regulation by the companies themselves. They've been marking their own homework, and now, thanks to the FTC's power to compel disclosures, we can say for certain that the platforms cheat.

No surprise that the FTC's top recommendation is for Congress to pass a new privacy law. But they've got other, eminently sensible recommendations, like requiring the companies to do a better job of protecting their users' data: collect less, store less, delete it after use, stop combining data from their various lines of business, and stop sharing data with third parties.

Remember, the FTC has broad powers to order "conduct remedies" like this, and these are largely unaffected by the Supreme Court's "Chevron deference" decision in Loper-Bright.

The FTC says that privacy policies should be "clear, simple, and easily understood," and says that ad-targeting should be severely restricted. They want clearer consent for data inferences (including AI), and that companies should monitor their own processes with regular, stringent audits.

They also have recommendations for competition regulators – remember, the Biden administration has a "whole of government" antitrust approach that asks every agency to use its power to break up corporate concentration:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

They say that competition enforcers factor in the privacy implications of proposed mergers, and think about how promoting privacy could also promote competition (in other words, if Google's stolen data helped it secure a monopoly, then making them delete that data will weaken their market power).

I understand the reflex to greet a report like this with cheap cynicism, but that's a mistake. There's a difference between "everybody knows" that tech is screwing us on privacy, and "a federal agency has concluded" that this is true. These market studies make a difference – if you doubt it, consider for a moment that Cigna is suing the FTC for releasing a landmark market study showing how its Express Scripts division has used its monopoly power to jack up the price of prescription drugs:

https://www.fiercehealthcare.com/payers/express-scripts-files-suit-against-ftc-demands-retraction-report-pbm-industry

Big business is shit-scared of this kind of research by federal agencies – if they think this threatens their power, why shouldn't we take them at their word?

This report is a milestone, and – as with the UK Competition and Markets Authority reports – it's a banger. Even after Loper-Bright, this report can form the factual foundation for muscular conduct remedies that will limit what the largest tech companies can do.

But without privacy law, the data brokerages that feed the tech giants will be largely unaffected. True, the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau is doing some good work at the margins here:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

But we need to do more than curb the worst excesses of the largest data-brokers. We need to kill this sector, and to do that, Congress has to act:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/20/water-also-wet/#marking-their-own-homework

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #coppa #privacy first #ftc #section 5 of the ftc act #privacy #consumer privacy #big tech #antitrust #monopolies #data brokers #radium suppositories #commercial surveillance #surveillance #google #a look behind the screens

231 notes · View notes

judesmoonbeauty · 3 months ago

Text

Jude Jazza's "The Past Records": A Ruthless, Arrogant Man, & An Unfulfilled Promise - Record 6

This is a fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾. CW: Mentions of Child Death, & Death Wish

Please read chapters 1-3 here.

I entered school where I further studied business administration and economics.

I acted like innocently in front of those I could use.

This line literally translates "I wore a cat in front of others I could use. 猫を被った "Neko o komutta" means 'to wear/put on a cat'. This is an idiomatic expression. It means one feigns friendliness of a cat while hiding their fierce claws.

The only ones who go to public school are rich kids.

To them I was just an overreaching no body who didn’t know his place.

— I was also subjected to vicious bullying.

Their methods were cowardly, under handed, and they harassed me daily.

Rich Student 1: Your Irish accent is repulsive. Can you not speak again?

Rich Student 2: Just breathing the same air as a poor person can contaminate you like them.

Everyone seemed to hate me.

That hatred became power.

And as I studied, I relentlessly looked for information on those who killed my sister.

(…..Found ‘em, these are the ones who killed her.)

They were from a prominent, respectable noble family.

When I told that shitty doctor about it, he said that the nobles would soon fall to ruin on their own due to taxation.

I guess he wanted to prevent my revenge.

(Idiot. “Soon” is too lenient, it isn’t enough, ya nutter.)

I’ll completely torture ‘n kill ‘em socially.）

(They’ll experience a livin’ hell)

And then, several years after my sister was killed

My revenge was complete.

The nobles I killed, my father, and my older brother, I ensured they suffered and died.

I didn’t do it directly. But….

(一I killed ‘em all.）

Afterward, I repaid that shitty doctor every last bit of the money he lent me with interest.

(It’s all over now）

As I wandered around London that night, I took smoke break on the bridge.

Jude: Ahhh, how refreshin’.

Jude: Sent ‘em all to hell. Well, they had it comin’ to ‘em.

Ever since that pure black hatred bloomed inside me, I’ve lived only for this day.

I dragged all of those who looked down on us to hell.

Because of that I was certain that I’d feel peace.

However -

(…..Haaaah…..)

(…..I feel empty.…..lonely…….and bitter)

(I’m jealous….of other happy people)

I could hear the sounds of laughter of families walking behind me.

I could hear the sounds of laughter of friends and couples.

Everyone was laughing with someone.

And all I had was the reflection of myself on the water’s surface.

(My health’s better ‘n I got money)

Jude: I’ve got nothin’.

(Ah, that’s right. Once somethin’s lost it can’t be replaced…that’s how it is.)

Filled with hatred, memories that I didn’t want came flooding back to me.

Jude’s Mother: ….Please, take care of your sister, Jude.

(…..I couldn’t keep my promise)

To protect my sister’s life.

I couldn’t even keep that promise — living shamelessly.

As my cigarette smoke drifted up towards the moon, I recalled a trivial promise made to my sister.

That was when she was alive.

In order to gloss over the pain of a fever, I asked a question.

What would you like to do if you were rich.

So, my sister answered,

Jude: “When ya get rich, take me to the moon.”

All I had left was that small promise.

But at that moment, that’s all I had.

Jude: Wanna go to the moon?

Humans going to the moon is pipe dream.

With that alone, I started walking once again through the depths of hell.

Unaware that eventually I’d meet a woman who wouldn’t laugh at my dream, but would join me in making it come true.

[Past Records Master List] [710 Bonus Story]

Dividers: @.natimiles

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tags list! Please specify the suitor or if you want all IkeVil translations.

#ikevil translations #cybird translations #ikevil jude #jude jazza #jude jazza translations #the past records

72 notes · View notes

quitealotofsodapop · 3 months ago

Note

"Uh, Monkey King?" MK asked, ducking as a rather expensive pensive looking cloth flew ive this head, "What are you doing?"

"Packing." Sun Wukong grunted, eyeing what appeared to be a ceremonial robe of sorts with a critical eye. MK felt apprehension build in him, remembering what happened the last time he found his master packing.

"Are you... going somewhere?" MK swallowed his anxiety, hoping beyond all hope the answer was no. The gods, however, did not grant his wish.

"Yeah." Wukong sighed, running his hand through his fur, "I got some business that requires me to be gone for about a week. I'll try to keep you updated."

"A week!?" MK parrots back in horror, "But what about my training!?"

Wukong paused, tail flicking, before turning back to MK as if shocked he'd even ask that.

"MK, after everything that happened, do you really think a short break in training would be that big of an impact!?" Wukong asked, legitimately confused by MK's worry, "'Sides, you knot definitely are far enough in your training some self-guided study would be a benefit. If you want i can give you some tasks to do while I'm gone, too."

"But where are you going!?" MK asked, "And don't lie about going on vacation like you did with the whole Lady Bone Demon thing! Wait... is this like the lady Bone Demon? Are you having me behind again!?"

"Uh, no." Wukong grunted, pushing MK out of his face. "I just have some kingly duties to fulfill that require me to take a trip. I'm not going to be gone more than a week, maybe two at most. And Macaque is keeping an eye on the island so if anything happens, he can send a message to me."

MK froze at that, confusion written in his face. He tilted his head as he looked at the other monkey,

"Kingly duties? I thought being the Monkey King meant fighting bad guys and taking naps whenever you want!"

"No." Wukong chuckles, choosing to be amused by his apprentice' backwards comment than offended, "Being the Monkey Kid means fighting bad guys and saving the world. Being the Monkey King is a biiiit more complicated than that."

"...Say what now?"

"Alright, let's just say... I've been kinda keeping a lot of what goes into being my successor a secret." Wukong's paw came up to rub the back of his neck, "With so many major threats popping up all over the place, I'd focused entirely on your training as a warrior, but there's a side I haven't even began to touch. I wanted to make sure you were the best warrior you could be before either tried to add the ksot political and administrative side of being my heir into the fold."

"Politics!?" MK spat out incredulously, staring straight his mentor in disbelief.

"I am the Monkey King, MK. That means I have a whole kingdom to run." Wukong continued, "Any and all of the free time i get is dedicated to training you on top of that! The Counsel of the Great Demon Kings happens every hundred years or so. I hadn't gone to the last four, but since I've made a public reappearance, and with an apprentice at that, I'm expected to go and can't wiggle out of it this time! Believe me, I've tried."

"So like... Are you just up and leaving without me?" MK now looked heartbroken, putting all the puppy dog eyes on full blast, "You promised not to leave me again though!"

Wukong groaned, catching on to what MK was trying to do.

"Kid... you don't want to come with me. It's not going to be fun or exciting at all. You'll be forced to wear uncomfortable ceremonial robes that weigh a ton and have to be quiet and well-behaved." Wukong explained, trying to dissuade MK from his train of thought, "And everyone there is mean! They are dying to sniff out a scandal or two to take advantage of!"

"So? You said yourself you neglected to teach me how to handle politics. This is the perfect opportunity to start!" MK grinned, "I'm sure Tang can lend me one of his robes too."

"First of all, you will NEVER go to one of these events with a stuffy old scholar's robe. I'd lend you one of mine if that EVER happened." Wukong pointed out, eye twitching, "Second, NO! This is a final test sort of deal, NOT a tutorial type of thing!"

hehe! We discussed in the dms about poor Wukong having to attend a political summit for demon kings, and MK getting "homework" for the week.

Pigsy is approving of the homework idea. He's raised MK long enough to know his son needs goals to fulfil or he starts getting into trouble.

#sun wukong #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid #others writings #im a little sick rn so this was nice to read

61 notes · View notes

nasa · 2 years ago

Text

Soaring into Aerospace: NASA Interns Take Flight at EAA AirVenture Oshkosh

Sustainable Aviation Ambassadors Alex Kehler, Bianca Legeza-Narvaez, Evan Gotchel, and Janki Patel pose in front of the NASA Pavilion at EAA AirVenture Oshkosh.

It’s that time of year again–EAA AirVenture Oshkosh is underway!

Boasting more than 650,000 visitors annually, EAA AirVenture Oshkosh, or “Oshkosh” for short, is an airshow and fly-in held by the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA). Each year, flight enthusiasts and professionals from around the world converge on Oshkosh, Wisconsin, to engage with industry-leading organizations and businesses and celebrate past, present, and future innovation in aviation.

This year, four NASA interns with the Electrified Powertrain Flight Demonstration (EPFD) project count themselves among those 650,000+ visitors, having the unique opportunity to get firsthand experience with all things aerospace at Oshkosh.

Alex Kehler, Bianca Legeza-Narvaez, Evan Gotchel, and Janki Patel are Sustainable Aviation Ambassadors supporting the EPFD project, which conducts tests of hybrid electric aircraft that use electric aircraft propulsion technologies to enable a new generation of electric-powered aircraft. The focus of Alex, Bianca, Evan, and Janki’s internships cover everything from strategic communications to engineering, and they typically do their work using a laptop. But at Oshkosh, they have a special, more hands-on task: data collection.

“At Oshkosh, I am doing some data collection to better estimate how we can be prepared in the future,” said Janki, an Aerospace Engineering major from the University of Michigan. “Coming to Oshkosh has been an amazing experience… I can walk around and see people passionate about the work they do.”

The NASA Pavilion at EAA AirVenture Oshkosh is full of interactive exhibits and activities for visitors to engage with. NASA Interns Alex, Bianca, Evan, and Janki are collecting data in the pavilion to help improve future exhibits at Oshkosh.

In addition to gathering data to help inform future NASA exhibits and activities at Oshkosh, the interns also have the opportunity to engage with visitors and share their passion for aviation with other aero enthusiasts. For Evan, who is receiving his Master's in Aerospace Engineering from the Georgia Institute of Technology, “being able to be here and talk with people who are both young and old who are interested in what the future of flight could be has been so incredible.”

Alex, Evan, Bianca, and Janki pose in front of NASA’s Super Guppy, a specialized aircraft used to transport oversized cargo.

At Oshkosh, one memory in particular stands out for Alex, Bianca, Evan, and Janki: seeing NASA’s famous Super Guppy in person. With a unique hinged nose and a cargo area that's 25 feet in diameter and 111 feet long, the Super Guppy can carry oversized cargo that is impossible to transport with other cargo aircraft.

“We had a very lucky experience… We were able to not only see the Super Guppy, we got to get up close when it landed,” said Bianca, who is receiving her Master's in Business Administration with a specialization in Strategic Communications from Bowling Green State University. “From a learning experience, it gave me a way better basis on cargo aircraft and how they operate.”

For Alex, who is receiving his Master's in Aeronautical Engineering from the Georgia Institute of Technology, it was exciting to see the Super Guppy’s older technology integrated with newer technologies up close. “There have been a lot of good memories, but I think the best one was the Super Guppy. It was cool to see this combination of 60’s and 70’s technology with this upgraded plane.”

Evan and Janki pose for a photo while walking around EAA AirVenture Oshkosh.

With Oshkosh coming to a close this Sunday, July 30, Alex, Bianca, Evan, and Janki also reflected on advice they have for future NASA interns on how they can get the most out of their internship: be curious and explore, connect with people who work in the field you’re interested in, and don’t be afraid to ask questions.

Alex advises potential NASA interns to “dream big and shoot for your goals, and divide that up into steps… In the end it will work out.” For Bianca, being open and exploring is key: “take opportunities, even if it’s the complete opposite thing that you were intending to do.”

“Ask questions all the time,” said Evan. “Even outside the internship, always continue asking people about what they are knowledgeable on.” And Janki encourages future interns to “Follow your own path. Get the help of mentors, but still do your own thing.”

Visiting Oshkosh and want to see NASA science in action? Stop by the NASA Pavilion, located at Aviation Gateway Park, and see everything from interactive exhibits on sustainable aviation, Advanced Air Mobility, Quesst, and Artemis to STEM activities–and you may even meet NASA pilots, engineers, and astronauts! At Oshkosh, the sky’s the limit.

Interested in interning with NASA? Head over to NASA’s internship website to learn more about internship opportunities with NASA and find your place in (aero)space.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#aeronautics #NASA #aviation #airplane #internships #airventure #intern #work advice #advice #avgeek #aircraft

909 notes · View notes

dailyhistoryposts · 1 year ago

Text

A Rundown of Henry Kissinger's Life

“Once you’ve been to Cambodia, you’ll never stop wanting to beat Henry Kissinger to death with your bare hands. You will never again be able to open a newspaper and read about that treacherous, prevaricating, murderous scumbag sitting down for a nice chat with Charlie Rose or attending some black-tie affair for a new glossy magazine without choking. Witness what Henry did in Cambodia – the fruits of his genius for statesmanship – and you will never understand why he’s not sitting in the dock at The Hague next to Milošević. While Henry continues to nibble nori rolls and remaki at A-list parties, Cambodia, the neutral nation he secretly and illegally bombed, invaded, undermined, and then threw to the dogs, is still trying to raise itself up on its one remaining leg.”

--Anthony Bourdain (2018)

It's difficult to be precise, but all told Henry Kissinger killed hundreds of thousands of civilians in pursuit of American business interests.

EARLY LIFE

Henry Kissinger was born in 1923 as Heinz Kissinger in Fürth, Bavaria, Germany, to a German-Jewish family. Throughout his youth, he was relentlessly and violently harassed and discriminated against by members of the Hitler Youth and authorities. At the age of 15, Kissinger and his family fled Nazi Germany, settling in New York City. He finished high school at George Washington High School in NYC and began studying accounting at the City College of New York, but his undergraduate studies were interrupted in 1943 when he was drafted into the US army.

In the army, fluent German speakers were in short supply, so Kissinger was quickly assigned to military intelligence. During the American invasion of Germany, he worked to set up civilian administration of conquered cities and tracked down Gestapo officers as a Special Agent of the Counter Intelligence Corps. He received the Bronze Star Medal

After his time in the army, Kissinger returned to his studies. He graduated summa cum laude in political science from Harvard College, as well as his Masters and PhD. He taught at Harvard, and his studies focused on international 'legitimacy', when an international order is widely accepted by international leaders, without regard to public opinion or morality.

POLITICS

Beginning in the 1950s, Kissinger began to be more active on the political stage. He was a consultant for the National Security Council and a study director for the Council of Foreign Relations. He notably was against Eisenhower's massive retaliation nuclear doctrine, where the United States would respond to a nuclear attack with a much, much greater nuclear attack. Instead, Kissinger advocated the use of tactical nuclear weapons on a regular basis in more wars.

In the 1960s, Kissinger began working with Republicans running for office as an advisor in foreign affairs. He contributed to the Nixon campaign, and when Nixon took office in 1969, Kissinger was appointed as National Security Advisor, and later Secretary of State. As a diplomat, Kissinger heavily used Realpolitik, the in-fashion Cold War approach focusing on pragmatism and realistic outcomes rather than ideological or moral purity. In international politics, it largely has to do with obtaining and maintaining power on the world stage.

Kissinger focused on relaxing US tensions with the USSR and China, leading an American foreign policy that supported Taiwan on the face but in the shadows removed all support for Taiwan and essentially waited for it to fall apart.

In 1974, he directed the National Security Study Memorandum 200: Implications of Worldwide Population Growth for U.S. Security and Overseas Interests (NSSM200), sometimes called the "Kissinger Report" the official United States policy for many years, though it remained classified until the 1990s. The Kissinger Report advocated for population control in undeveloped nations to ensure easy resource extraction and protect American business interests abroad. Projects were designed to reduce fertility while keeping up the appearance of improving quality of life--the plan specifically attempted to avoid an appearance of "economic or racial imperialism". Birth rate was particularly noted due to concerns about an adequate global food supply and because young people more readily fight back against corruption and imperialism. The Report also brought up increasing abortion rates as a method of obtaining this goal.

In 1975, policies based on the Report went into affect. The National Security Council would recommend withholding food and using military force to prevent population growth, prioritizing aid for small families, and even paying people to get sterilized. Thirteen countries were named as particularly problematic to US interests. Of note, Nigeria lost development and the United States took control of Nigerian resources, and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) was responsible for some of the 300,000 forced sterilizations in Peru--largely impoverished or indigenous women--during the Fujimori administration. The Fujimori government has been accused of crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court for these abuses, and today the Peruvian economy suffers due to the low population resulting from these sterilizations.

ACTIONS IN SOUTHEAST ASIA

The Vietnam War had started back in 1955. Kissinger had originally supported it, but as time dragged on began to view it as harming American prestige. Kissinger leaked information about peace talks to get into power at Nixon's side, and then failed to end the war in 1972, leading to the Christmas bombings. A very similar agreement was signed the next month, leading to a ceasefire (that would collapse) and the withdrawal of American troops--bitterly seen as a betrayal by South Vietnam. When Kissinger and Vietnamese diplomat Lê Đức Thọ were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for this, Thọ declined to accept it and two members of the Nobel Committee left it in protest.

It was in the middle of the Vietnam War, and during the Cambodian Civil War, that Operation Menu and Operational Freedom Deal went into play. From March 1969 to May 1970, the United States Strategic Air Command carried out a series of first tactical and then carpet bombings in eastern Cambodia. Then, from May 1970 to August 1973, the United States provided close air support and widespread bombing. Part of a 'secret' war to support the Kingdom of Cambodia/Khmer Republic against communist rebels, it ultimately failed and the communists would take power in 1975.

In the Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971, Nixon and Kissinger supported the Pakistani president Yahya Khan. It was in this that the strongest dissent in the history of the U.S. Foreign Service, the Blood Telegram (named after sender Archer Blood), was sent. It reports the US was about to lose, describes systemic abuses, and uses the word 'genocide' to describe the actions by US-supported Pakistan. It said the US government was morally bankrupt. Blood was recalled early from Bangladesh, and US interests were lost when Bangladeshi Independence was secured within the year.

MIDDLE EASTERN POLICY

Kissinger was originally excluded from any policy-making on Israel, as part of Nixon's orders to exclude all Jewish-Americans from such work. Still, in 1973, when Kissinger became Secretary of State, he was included in all US Middle Eastern policy. This means he was largely responsible for the handling of the Yom Kippur War--this handling included not noticing precipitating factors leading up to it (he was so engrossed in Paris peace talks he didn't notice the Egyptian President Sadat ready to move on Sinai), delaying telling Nixon about and stalled negotiating a ceasefire, hoping Israel would push across and fully obtain the Suez Canal.

Kissinger's diplomacy included giving equipment to Israel, but not as much as he'd promised, and selling weapons to Saudi Arabia at the same time, in exchange for access to Saudi Arabian oil. By largely handling to event and not involving France or the United Kingdom, and by minimizing the power of the Soviet Union, Kissinger took large steps in giving US power over much of the Middle East.

It should be noted that this was done purely to protect US interests rather than any form of Jewish security. When questioned about the persecution of Soviet Jews at the same time, Kissinger said

"The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern."

-Henry Kissinger (1973)

Also in the region., Kissinger supported Iran against Iraq.

TURKISH INVASION OF CYPRUS

In 1974, the Greek military regime and Turkiye invaded the island of Cyprus. The military regime had been supported by Kissinger, and anti-Kissinger sentiment was strong among young people. Cyprus is now an independent island country, though its northeast portion is de facto separate, making up the self-declared Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. Kissinger considers his own handling of the Cyprus Issue unfavorably.

LATIN AMERICA

With Kissinger's influence, the United States maintained relations with non-left-wing governments regardless of commitment to democracy. It was with Kissinger's input that the CIA encouraged a military coup against Chilean president-elect Salvador Allende due to his socialist ideals.

Operation Condor, a US-backed program of political repression by right-wing dictatorships of southern South America, was also Kissinger's work. It included assassinations, the Dirty War in Argentina, and supporting Brazil's nuclear weapons program because it would benefit the U.S. private nuclear industry.

SOME OTHER STUFF

Kissinger's policy on post-WWII decolonization was mixed, based on what would benefit the U.S. He helped transition Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) away from White minority rule, expressed moderate support for the Portuguese Colonial Empire, and helped Indonesia occupy East Timor.

After Watergate forced Nixon to resign, Kissinger stayed on under President Ford but left office when Democrat Jimmy Carter came into power. He was offered an endowed chair at Columbia University, which was canceled due to student opposition, but was appointed to Georgetown University instead. He ran a consulting firm, supported the Chinese government in the Tiananmen Square massacre, and served on the 2000 Commission of the International Olympic Committee. He was supposed to help President Bush respond to the 9/11 attacks but stepped down because he refused to reveal if he had a business conflict of interest.

In 2010, he took a strong stance urging world governments to destroy all nuclear weapons. In the 2014 Ukrainian crisis, he said that Crimea should remain under Ukrainian sovereignty, but in the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine said that Crimea and Donbas should be given to Russia.

Kissinger was a board member of Theranos, Elizabeth Holmes' biotech scam.

In response to the 2023 Hamas attack on Israel, and seeing pro-Palestinian protestors in Germany, Kissinger called Muslim immigration into Germany "a grave mistake".

DEATH

Kissinger died peacefully in his home in Connecticut on November 29th, 2023,

#history #destiel #henry kissinger #imperialism #anti imperialism #if any of you use this as an excuse to be antisemitic or prolife im coming for all your bones

224 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 9 months ago

Text

Dinna fash, Sassenach

Ashley Hearn's arrival aboard the HMS Sassenach...

... has immediately been met with an expert smirk across the street:

I was not really surprised. The blogger could not help herself (she rarely does). She had to weigh in, with that insinuating tone that seems to be part of her personal brand. And, in line with what she consistently posted, the idea is that S, a highly functioning alcoholic in her book, thoughtlessly hired another highly functioning alcoholic, with NO credentials to boot. Plus a profiteer of sorts, right?

Perhaps that blogger wanted to be their new marketing manager and there she is, instead, somewhere farfarfar away from Walhalla. An unsung, compliment deprived and undiscovered hero without a cape? For I have no other elegant & merciful explanation for what could be logically construed as an outburst of hurt ego (we KNOW she has PROPER CREDENTIALS, she shouted it REPEATEDLY across the UNIVERSE), coupled with the usual pettiness, every single time things seem to challenge her view of reality.

Let's unpack:

Ashley has decent education credentials. I am writing this because I bet the farm many casual readers of that legit calumny ended up thinking that she had NO education at all:

A BA in Mathematics, at a good public university in Maryland. And a Master's Degree in Teacher Education and Professional Development at Walden University, a for-profit education institution based in Minnesota, most likely online.

A word about Walden University, though, simply because of the recent controversy related to it. While it is true that Walden has been forced to settle a class action outside of court ( it cost them 28.5 million dollars to do so), that lawsuit was strictly related to African-American students denouncing the lack of transparency related to the university's DBA (Doctor of Business Administration) program.

[More on the lawsuit: https://www.insidehighered.com/news/quick-takes/2024/03/29/walden-agrees-285-million-settlement-class-action-suit]

Anyways, here are her real professional credentials, carefully hidden by the blogger:

Eight years and a half consistent work experience for the US subsidiary of Mast-Jägermeister, one of the most prestigious German liquor companies, founded in 1878 (https://www.mast-jaegermeister.de/). Would anyone be such a fool as to think she'd be constantly promoted by those people just for her eyes only, especially as a complete outsider to the very closed world of spirits business?

I see a hard-working woman, with good professional skills and obvious qualities (brand loyalty, for example), given a new career opportunity she clearly thought interesting enough to make her jump onboard. And I very much prefer an honest underdog, ballsy enough to take her passion and make it happen (thanks, Flashdance!) in a cutthroat, male dominated business environment, to the many lukewarm and half-hearted executives still lingering around in so many companies around the world just for the sake of commodity, predictability and mortgage.

And I honestly wish her every success. She does not deserve this. Nobody does. Luckily for her, she couldn't care less that a Nobody with a blog tried to rain on her parade.

Interestingly enough, Norouzi was the only SS bigwig NOT to congratulate her on Insta. He didn't relay the news, he didn't even like the post, even if they mutually follow eachother (their interaction always seemed to be minimal, though). But that is another story and it is way too early to speculate.

#fandom #shitshow #booze wars #Sassenach Spirits

85 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

"I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

#eartha kitt #jane fonda #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 6

761 notes · View notes

olicitymckono · 1 year ago

Text

Verstappen's Heart

First Max X reader 😊

AN: All mistakes are mine

Warning: Mention of abuse.

ENJOY 😊

Working as Max Verstappen’s Personal Assistant was an opportunity of a life time. Yn was a young American/British woman who had grown up watching Formula 1 with her grandfather during her teens and knew more about the sport than anything else. She had been studying for her masters degree in administration and had been taking a break for the holidays when she had literally ran into Geri Halliwell the former Spice Girl and wife of Christian Horner, team principle for her favourite team Red Bull. The two women had got to talking and some how Yn found herself at dinner with the Horner’s and with a job as Max’s assistant. She had yet to meet the man and as the new season grew closer she found herself more and more nervous about the meeting. That day happened to be the day Max was leaving to join his team for some pre season training. Max had been busy talking to GP his engineer when Christian had introduced her to him. She had quickly realised that she need not have worried because Max was a really nice and genuine guy who made her feel at ease and accepted from the get go. She could definitely see them becoming fast friends. And she had been right.

Max had been quite intrigued by the young blond woman who had entered his life and he could not deny that she was good at her job. In just the space of a few short weeks she had managed to familiarise herself with his schedule and everything else that was important to him. One thing that really surprised him though was the fact that his father Jos seemed to like her as well. That might have to do with the fact that she stood up for herself and never allowed him to intimidate her. That first day when she had called out his father Max had never liked the girl more.

One person however who did not seem to take a liking to YN was Kelly, Max’s girlfriend. The fact that Penelope had taken to Yn didn’t do her any favours. Max was convinced that Kelly was just jealous and had called he out on it a few times but Kelly had been adamant that there was something off with the American/Brit.

Yn was by no means a bad person and was genuine in everything that she did but Kelly had been right at least slightly. Yn had a secret well not so much that she had to keep it hidden, it was just something she didn’t like talking about.

Two days before Qualifying Max had asked her to dinner. He wanted to thank her for the great job she was doing. She couldn’t deny that there was something about him that made her heart flutter. They had both had a lot of fun that night but the next day the media had a field day with pictures of them, all with the same question, “Was Max cheating on Kelly?”

Max and Yn decided to ignore it as it was the 21st century were a man and woman were allowed to be friends and true fans of Max and Formula 1 knew who she was and loved her just as much. Kelly on the other end was not impressed and she had caught the next flight to Jeddah. She had started a huge argument and demanded that Yn should be let go. Max equally pissed at the demands of his girlfriend refused and told Kelly that Yn was not going anywhere. The atmosphere between Kelly and Yn was thick and the fact that Max refused to get rid of the her. Kelly knew she had to do something herself. She hired a private investigator.

2 weeks later:

Max was busy getting ready for media day in Australia when Kelly came walking into his drivers room, a smile on her face. “I need to talk to you.”

“Hi yourself,” Max looked over at her. He was a little surprised she had wanted to come to this race as she usually missed this one due to her work schedule, but yesterday she had called him to say that she was on her way.

“Hey baby.” She kissed him deeply.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Max, I know you like Yn but she isn’t who she says she is.”

Max sighed annoyed. “Kelly please I’m tired of your suspicions and accusations. I don’t know why you don’t like her and that’s fine but she is my co-worker and friend. You don’t have to like her.”

“I wish you could just listen to me for a change. Yn Logan doesn’t exists at least not till 6 years ago.”

“Not everyone posts their lives on social media Kelly.”

“I’m not talking about just social media. I mean she doesn’t exist anywhere. I hired a PI.”

“You what?” he snapped. “Are you out of your mind?”

She reached for him but he pulled away. “I’m trying to help you Max. This girl is dangerous.”

“No, you’re just jealous!”

“I’m not jealous. Oh her? Please.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Listen she’ll find another job and that will be that. Like you said she’s good at what she does.”

“I’m not firing her Kelly.”

Kelly huffed, “Still? Just how good is she in bed?”

“Excuse me?” he was fuming.

“Well,” she crossed her arms annoyed. “there is no other reason you won’t get rid of her unless you’re sleeping with her.”

“He’s not.”

The couple turned towards where Yn was standing. She had been on her way to go over some possible questions he might have to answer when she had heard them arguing. She was going to turn back to give them some privacy when she had heard her name.

“Of course you would say that. Little slut trying to protect herself.”

“That’s enough Kelly!”

“I think you should ask that investigator for your money back.”

“You heard that?” Max asked looking a her. She nodded. “I’m sorry, Kelly had no right to do that.”

She shook her head, “It’s ok. She was looking out for you.” She turned to the Brazilian. “They didn’t do a good job though.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t look that hard. Up until 6 years ago my name was Yn Alexander when I was legally allowed to change my name. Logan is my grandmothers maiden name.”

“And why would you need to change your name?” Kelly asked sarcastically.

“Because I wanted to get as far away from my family as possible. I wanted to rid myself of any connection.”

“Why?”

“Kelly, stop.” Max could see how uncomfortable Yn was and he didn’t need an answer unless she wanted to share.

“My biological father died when I was 2. Killed in action. My mother remarried her boyfriend less then 8 months after my dad died. Turns out they had been having an affair while my dad was on tour. My step dad had my name changed to his. Which he decided was enough of a reason to take what he wanted. I was 4 when he touched me for the first time and 5 when he raped me for the first time.”

Kelly’s face fell, she had not been thinking anything like that. Max walked over to Yn and put an arm around her shoulders. “Yn I’m so sorry.” Kelly replied.

“My mom never believed me and choose him. So I got rid of that name. But thank you for making me relive all that.” She moved away from Max and hurriedly wiped her eyes. “The media is waiting Max. You need to get out there.” She turned and walked out the room.

“Max,” Kelly started but he simply put up his hand to stop her before leaving the room.

She was quiet during the media and avoided any unnecessary contact with him. Charles who had been in the same group as his friend picked up that something was a miss. “Is Yn okay?”

“No,” Max couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. “Kelly fucked up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not my story to tell but she violated Yn’s privacy.”

“Why? Is she still acting jealous?”

“Yes.”

Charles nodded softly. “Can I asked you something without you getting mad?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like her?”

Max knew who he was asking about and it would have been easy to say no. But there was something there, he had realised it weeks ago but he had not said or done anything. He did love Kelly. Yn had this way about her, she was warm and caring. Everyone she met instantly connected with her. She never treated him like he was untouchable. She always saw him as just Max. He could be himself with her, something he had recently realised he was not able to be around Kelly anymore. She was too much of a wag and what that entailed that she had forgotten about her boyfriend and even at times her own child. “I do.”

Most of the weekend passed by uneventfully. Kelly, Max had noticed had made herself scarce and avoided Yn at all costs. She felt terrible for what she had done but she didn’t regret it, as she had just been trying to protect Max. But he was more worried about Yn. She didn’t spend anytime alone with him, making sure that she was the first to leave. He was worried he was going to lose her. And he was right.

After the race and celebrations for his win, Christian called him over. “Where’s YN?”

“She quit.”

Several weeks had passed since Australia and she was finally getting settled into a new job and routine back in Texas. She missed the races and the drivers especially Max but she had lived so long in a toxic situation and wouldn’t endure that again. Her feelings for Max was not easy as well. She had felt guilty for days for thinking that she had somehow made Kelly jealous, but soon enough she had realised that she hadn’t done anything wrong. No matter how much she had grown to like Max, she had never done anything inappropriate. Max had tried getting in touch with her over the weeks but she had ultimately decided to move past all of that and had simply sent him a message thanking him for everything and that she would miss him greatly before blocking his number. Charles on the other hand had become quite a good friend and had been keeping her up to date on the red bull driver. Just because she was gone didn’t mean that she had stopped caring about Max.

It was midway through the season and Max was doing well at least from a driving perspective. He was top of the championship and had yet to lose a race but that was because he had been determined to hide how sad and angry he was. Things with Kelly had soured significantly after Yn had left to the point were the two were barely talking to one another. The only thing in his relationship he cared about was Penelope. Most people wouldn’t have noticed the change in Max as he had always been focused and determined but both Charles and Christian knew something was wrong with the Dutchman and it had everything to do with his former PA. A week into the mid season break and Charles took the opportunity to help out his friend, both of them. He knew they had feelings for each other and deserved a chance regardless of what anyone said.

“Hey man, how is everything?” Charles asked one day over the phone. “How’s the break?”

Max sighed and Charles could tell he was tired. “Not great man. Kelly and I....it’s just exhausting.”

“Don’t you think maybe it’s time? You obviously don’t feel the same about her anymore. Why make yourself sick over a relationship that’s over?”

“I want to bit what about P?”

“Max I know you love that little girl but what about you? You’re in love with someone else. Someone who gets you and makes you feel like you matter. Not as a driver or athlete but as Max.”

“She doesn’t care about me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Charles, she blocked me from everything and hasn’t spoken to me since Australia which was months ago.”

“Because she was hurt. She hates her past and what happened to her. They way she had to tell you was not how she would have wanted to. In fact she might not have told anyone if she had the chance. Did you know the abuse lasted till she was 14?”

“What?”

“Yep, once a month for 9 years. Sometimes more. Her stepdad would lie in wait till her mom would be either out of town or too tired to notice. Each time threating her afterwards. She tried telling her mom but the woman refused to listen. It was only after her grandparents visited for the birth of her half brother that anyone helped her. Her grandfather woke up one night for something to drink when he saw her stepfather coming out of her room clothes not quite right. He had waited till the other man was back in his own room before he went into her and found her crying. She told him everything and when he confronted his daughter, you know what she said?”

“No,”

“Yn was a little liar and was trying to ruin her family and was jealous of her baby brother.”

“I would have killed that son of a bitch on the spot.”

“They removed her from the home and she changed her surname as soon as she turned 18. I’m sure you can imagine wanting to forget something like that as best as you can.”

“It’s terrible and I wish she could have gotten the chance to tell me on her own terms.”

“She asks about you all the time.”

“You talk to her?” Max asked now fully invested in the conversation.

“We’re friends.”

“How is she?”

“Aside from missing you for some reason, she’s doing okay. Lives in Austin. You should go see her. After you break up with Kelly. I like Penelope too but you can’t deny your own happiness because of her. She wouldn’t want you to.”

Max nodded before realising his friend couldn’t see him. “Will you help me?”

“What can I do to help?”

Yn was a little surprised that Charles had asked if he could come visit her for a week. Just days ago he had asked her to join him and Alexandra in Italy for a break but she had sadly had to decline do to work commitments. Although she was happy to get to see her friend again. He had arranged to met her at her apartment after work and now she was hurriedly trying to pull it together before they got there. She was just putting the last piece of her clothing away when she heard the door bell. “Coming.”

When she opened the door though the smile she had fell. “Hi Schat.”

“Max, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” she stepped aside allowing him in.

He looked around her apartment at everything that made sense. Her home represented her in every way. Minimalistic but classy and sophisticated. “Looks amazing.”

“Thank you. You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here? And why do I get the feeling Charles has something to do with this?”

“Because he does. He was never coming. He was helping me.” He looked over her, drinking in the sight of her. He had missed her more than he could express. He walked towards her, stopping right in front of her.

The way he was looking at her cause her stomach to flip and the fact that he was so close to her wasn’t helping. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Why?” he asked reached a hand out and brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. The part of her skin he made contact with felt like it was on fire. “Because.”

“Because why? Are you afraid of me?”

“No,” she responded quickly shaking her head. “You just can’t look at me like you want to kiss me.”

“You’re not wrong there. I do want to kiss you. Have wanted to for weeks even before you left.”

“While as much I want that too you can’t.”

She made to move past him but he grabbed her hand and pulled her flush against his chest, lips mere inches from hers. “See now that’s where you are wrong.” He closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers. At first she wanted to resist but he was a really good kisser and it felt so good. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up. Wrapping her legs around his waist he carried her to the couch lips never leaving hers.

Laying in his arms felt right but of course there was the elephant in the room. Kelly. Yn felt guilty that she had slept with a taken man. He could sense something was wrong as he lazily traced patterns down her bare arm. “I broke up with her.”

Yn lifted her head and looked at him, “You broke up with Kelly? Why?”

“Well, things had been weird between us since Australia but the main reason was because I fell in love with someone else.”

“Me?”

“No Danny,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “Of course you. I knew I felt something for a while but I knew for certain that I loved you after you left. Life just sucked.”

“I doubt that, you’re leading the championship.”

“Winning isn’t everything Schat. And truth is the more I won and you weren’t there by my side, the more it lost any appeal. My life is empty without you. Not to mention my cats miss you too.”

“Should have led with that.”

“Oh, so you love them more than me?”

She chuckled, “I didn’t say that.”

“And you didn’t say you didn’t love me too.”

“I do Max. I love you.”

“Come back. Be with me.”

“I want to but I have a contract and an apartment.”

“We’ll rent it out and use it for holidays. And as for your contract, Ill buy you out. I want you with me.”

“What about your new PA Greta?”

“I’m sure Danny will take her off my hands and she’ll be happy with that too.”

“What did you do?” Yn smiled knowingly.

“Nothing....too bad.”

She laughed, “You’re a stubborn man sometimes.”

“Exactly, which means I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“You make a tough offer to turn down. But I have one condition.”

“Let me have it.”

She shifted so that she was on top of him causing him to groan as she touch his sweet spot. “Can we keep this between us? The fact that we’re together, at least for the time being. Its so soon after you and Kelly split and I know how the fans can get.”

“I don’t care abut the fans, but I can do that for you. For a while a least. But we have to tell Charles and Alex. He is the reason we’re together. “

“Okay, we can tell them, and maybe Daniel, he is your best friend.”

“And Christian. I know he’ll be thrilled you’re back, second only to me.”

“Ok. I have one more request.”

“Mmm.”

“Do you think you can do that thing with your tongue again?”

In one swift move he had them turned over with him hovering over her. “Anything for you my liefie.”

Feel free to send in any requests

#max verstappen #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader

173 notes · View notes

tiramisuucakeee · 3 months ago

Text

01. BRIOCHE ♪

IN WHICH: y/n, in the efforts of finding a quiet place to study, ends up in an unusual setting. a host club, and now, after a small mistake, she is forced to repay a debt as an assistant.

chapter one !

a warm breeze stirred the air around the high school courtyard, carrying the delicate pink petals of the cherry trees on its gentle currents. it was early, yes, but the entrance was already alive with the hum of conversation.

the chatter was a blur, discussions of extravagant vacations, vague mentions of family business, the usual gossip that floated through the air like empty confetti. to you, it was all noise, inconsequential and insufferable. but then again, in a place like this, perhaps it was to be expected.

you sighed softly, the sound lost in the rustling of the trees as you walked down the flower-laden path. you couldn't help but feel the weight of attention upon you. it was subtle, but unmistakable, the eyes that tracked your every move the second your footsteps disturbed the world. they weren't the kind of looks that belonged to friendly curiosity. no, these were sharper, calculating, like a predator sizing up its prey.

and you were the prey.

a girl who had somehow slipped through the cracks of this prestigious academy, not by wealth or connections, but by the wealth of knowledge packed into her mind. it had taken everything you had to get here, to prove you were worthy of a seat in this gilded world. if only you could turn that mental fortune into the kind of wealth these people took for granted.

for the past week, you’d been wearing simple clothes, an exception granted by the administration. the silky uniforms and the designer leather shoes felt like a costume, an armor meant to signify status that you could never afford to wear. it wasn’t that you were poor, not exactly. but compared to the others here, you might be in their eyes.

the private academy of ouran was defined by a few things. family status and wealth. it seemed that the students here had more time on their hands than they knew what to do with.

unlike you. if you wanted to stay here, you had to study. that was your main problem. despite the vast number of classrooms, you could never seem to find a quiet place.

room after room, they were filled with laughter, chatter, the clinking of glasses, and the rustling of pages. boys and girls gathered together - dancing, reading, talking - there was never a moment of silence.

you wandered through the hallways, up and down the grand staircases of the enormous building, searching for somewhere, anywhere, that might offer solitude. finally, you stopped in front of an abandoned classroom. it was music room 3.

holding your ear up to the tall door, you couldn’t make out any sound from the inside, so you decided that it was best to use this room before someone else found it.

clutching your book back closer, you opened the door.

you were instantly met with the sweet aroma of flowers and the soft notes of a piano drifting through the air. voices, light and inviting, mingled with the melody, gentle, like the first touch of a breeze.

“welcome to the host club,”

your mouth hung open as you took in the scene before you. the room looked like something straight out of a royal palace, a king’s master throne room, maybe. a grand piano sat in one corner, surrounded by elegant tables, delicate paintings, and fresh flowers. it was beautiful, extravagant, overwhelming.

but what really caught your attention were the people standing in the center of the room.

three guys. one was pale, his sharp features almost eerie, like something out of a gothic novel - if you didn’t know better, you might’ve thought he was a vampire. the next had delicate, almost ethereal beauty, his posture graceful, as if he were a princess from a fairy tale. the last had big, almost innocent eyes, reminiscent of a cat, and a mischievous smile to match.

beside them stood two girls. one had long, silky black hair that shimmered in the soft light, while the other was younger, with pink curly hair that bounced with every movement.

“a h-host club?” you managed to ask, as they blinked at your response, as if they assumed you knew what it was. you tightened your grip on your bag, still looking around in awe at the lavish decorations.

"oh, i recognize you. you're in my class," the tall girl said, her voice friendly but laced with curiosity. she turned to her friends and added, "she isn’t very talkative. she might be shy. i don’t know much about her."

that’s when it clicked. her face was familiar. she was always at the center of the classroom, surrounded by her friends, chatting, laughing, gossiping, and receiving gifts from boys, flashing that wide, effortless smile to anyone who’d give her attention. and there you were, always at the back of the room, near the window, trying to blend into the background.

“oh, how rude of us,” a boy then said, "you must not know what this is. welcome to the host club, new special student." his eyes practically gleamed with excitement at the words.

"what?!" the younger girl gasped, her pink curls bouncing with each step as she quickly ran toward you. "so you're the exceptional special student, y/n l/n?!" she blinked rapidly before smiling at you, her small hands reaching out to cling to your arm.

“how do you… know my name?” you asked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you took a small step back. but she only leaned in closer, her excitement overwhelming, like a child tugging at your sleeve for attention, or begging for games on a phone.

"well, the way this school works, it makes it very difficult for a commoner to get in," a guy from the group said, his tone casual, as though this was just another fact of life. "they say that if you don’t become a bookworm, it’s practically impossible to be accepted as a special student."

“huh, you’re so nice…” you rolled your eyes, prying the girl off of you, really not liking how they thought you were a ‘commoner’ just because you weren’t crazy rich.

"what i mean is, you're a hero, y/n," the guy continued, clearly getting carried away with his own thoughts. "even though you’re the number one student in the entire school, you're also the poorest one on campus." he pouted dramatically, his eyes wide with mock sympathy as if that somehow made you special.

you gave him a confused look, not sure whether to be offended or amused. "it’s not as bad as you’re making it seem," you replied, walking away from them, your feet moving closer to the door. you could feel their eyes on your back, watching your every step. "if you’ll excuse me..."

as your hand touched the door handle, you were suddenly yanked backward. the young girl had leapt onto your back, almost knocking you off balance. "wait, y/nnie, you’re a hero!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with childish wonder, as if she took every word he’d said literally. "you’re actually a hero!"

“agh-! no, i’m not not!” you managed to pry her off again, frustration edging your voice. "i'm just a special student, not some heroine- wait, who are you calling y/nnie?!" you shivered at the over-the-top enthusiasm that radiated from them, the extroverted energy that felt completely foreign to you.

the cat-eyed boy chuckled softly, his smile mischievous as he stepped closer behind you. "you know, i never imagined the famous y/n would be interested in the host club," he said, his voice smooth and teasing. "so, what's your type?"

"type? type of club…" you asked, your confusion clear on your face as you tried to make sense of his sudden question.

he cleared his throat dramatically before reaching out and gently grabbing your shoulders. without warning, he spun you toward the first boy, the one with the pale, almost otherworldly appearance. "the confident type?" he asked, his tone suggesting that it was the obvious choice.

you blinked, still not sure where this was going, but he wasn’t finished. he spun you again, this time facing the boy with the graceful, princely air. "the cool type?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

then, with a smooth grin, he turned you toward himself, his smile almost blinding. "or perhaps me, the charming type?" he finished, his voice dripping with playful confidence.

you blinked, swallowing hard, completely unsure of how to respond. the boy, however, misinterpreted your hesitation and gave a knowing grin. without giving you a chance to react, he started walking you toward the two girls.

"maybe you're into girls, like her," he said, pointing at the girl from your class, the one who looked so poised and elegant. "the elegant type?"

your eyes widened in realization, and a wave of panic surged through you. you quickly stopped him, pulling his hand off your shoulder. "n-no! no! i don’t-” you stammered, feeling heat rush to your face. "i'm not here for anything like that!" your heart pounded in your chest as you took a few steps back, each movement heavier than the last. "i'm just looking for a quiet place to study... i didn’t even know you all were doing a host club in this abandoned-"

your words were cut off as you backed into the corner of a table, the sharp edge catching you off guard. you stumbled, and the next thing you knew, the sharp sound of glass shattering filled the room.

they all immediately ran towards you, peering over your shoulder at the scene. a vase, once pristine and elegant, now lay in a million jagged pieces scattered across the floor.

“aw, that vase was our star product for the school’s auction, thats a shame,” the girl from your class sighed, as a boy placed a hand on her shoulder.

“yes, and to think that we could’ve easily made 8 million yen from it,” he said sadly.

"8 million yen?!" you turned to face them, the numbers suddenly swirling in your head. for a moment, it felt as if the ground was slipping away beneath you, but before you could completely lose your balance, you felt a hand steady you from behind.

the "confident" type had caught you, but you were too dazed by the shock to even notice the placement of his hand on your back.

"can you pay for it?" the younger girl asked innocently, her voice full of curiosity. "i mean, can you? since you can’t even afford the uniform." she added, making you sigh deeply in frustration. you opened your mouth to retort, but the words stuck in your throat.

"what should we do, jungwon?" the older girl asked, glancing at the boy with cat-like eyes. he was deep in thought, his posture composed as he silently observed the situation. after a moment, he sat down, never breaking eye contact with you.

he studied your cold, unamused face for a long beat, and then finally spoke.

"have you ever heard the saying, 'when in rome, do as the romans do'?" he asked, his tone calculating, almost as if he were waiting for you to understand something unsaid. his gaze didn’t waver. "from today on, you’ll be..."

"the host club's assistant!" jungwon announced, his voice full of confidence.

everyone else in the room stood in stunned silence, eyes wide as they took in the weight of his words. even the two girls seemed momentarily speechless, staring at him in awe, as if he’d just made the most logical statement in the world.

except for you.

you stood frozen, feeling the last bit of life drain from your body as the reality of the situation hit you. assistant? you? you, who had just been looking for a quiet place to study, now bound to some kind of never-ending responsibility in a place you didn’t even understand.

with the amount of money you owed them for the vase, there was no way out. you weren't going to be their "assistant." you’d be their prisoner. and not just for a day, not even for a year. no, you’d be stuck here - serving them - until you were old enough to be a grandma.

MASTERLIST.

NEXT CHAPTER.

BTW: jungwon is blond in this, sunghoon has dark hair, ricky has dark hair too, wonyoung never really changes color so she is dark brown hair, and iroha has pink hair.

46 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 3: Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together?

You and Joel come up with a plan. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 2, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Some mild diet talk, no explicit mention of reader's weight or size (beyond she is smaller than Joel but my Joels are all giant, OK? Joel is like 6'5" Joel is a big big man, big big man). Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Sir, I can’t just… Well, I understand that you say that but…”

Amanda, the sophomore girl who worked the front desk of the English department offices, frowned, phone clutched against her head.

“I understand that,” she said again. “But she’s a special case, Professor…” She flinched and glanced up to see you coming in, looking relieved. “Sir? Give me just one second and I can check…” She pressed the hold button and lowered the receiver. “Professor, I am so so sorry, I know we’re not supposed to send unexpected calls or emails through to you but do you know a Joel Miller? He’s insisting he’s a friend of yours and…”

You raised your eyebrows before answering.

“Yeah, I know Joel. Go ahead and transfer him back to my office. And if he ever gives you a hard time again, tell him to fuck off.”

Amanda looked relieved and took Joel off hold as you went to the end of the hall and unlocked your door. You didn’t have to share an office like a few other people in your department. One of the perks, you imagined, of being a big name that got the university some attention. But you hadn’t done much with the space yet, the only thing on the wall a framed poster that the dean had waiting for you when you started there.

Your phone rang just as you set down your bag and you picked it up, tucking it against your shoulder.

“Yes, what do you want, I’m busy being very famous and important,” you said with a slight English accent.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize best selling authors were such a hot commodity,” Joel said. “Should I make an appointment?”

“Probably,” you replied. He snorted. “What’s up?”

“Did you know that you tried to put your number in my phone the other night?” Joel asked. “Note that I say ‘tried’ because what you actually did was put something in my notes that has four numbers and then seven symbols which, if you’re counting, ain’t even the right number of digits.”

You scoffed.

“You’re lucky I didn’t change your passcode or set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning,” you said. “Sounds like you got off easy.”

“You’re a menace.”

“I know,” you said, smiling a little to yourself. “So why were you looking for my number on a Monday morning?”

“Because I was looking for your number on a Sunday morning and ended up shit outta luck,” he replied. “Figured I could catch you at work. They got you all locked down over there, huh?”

“Trying to discourage random readers from contacting me here is all,” you said. “There was a problem with that at Brown right when the book first got popular. I don’t think it’d be as much of a problem now but still, administration thought it was smart. Speaking of which, don’t be a shit to my office aide.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said, ignoring your last comment. “Think you can put me on the list of people who are allowed to talk to you? And on the list of people who are allowed to bring you food?”

“Bring me food?” You frowned.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I could do that. Like… today. In an hour or so. If you’re not shaping young minds or whatever.”

“Don’t you have work?” You laughed.

“New job starts tomorrow,” he said. “And I don’t exactly have a lot of time without Sarah where I’m not at work.”

“And you want to see me?”

“No, I figured I’d just call and annoy your secretary as a new hobby…”

“Office aide.”

“You free for lunch or not, Goldie?” He said, exasperated. You resisted the urge to laugh.

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m free. I have a class gap from 11:30 to 2. I can meet you somewhere…”

“I’ll just come to you,” he said. “Assuming that a fancy schmancy professor will still eat tamale lady tamales…”

“OK you could have opened with tamale lady tamales,” you said. “Buried the lead there, Miller.”

Joel laughed.

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me where your office is,” he said. “Then I’ll have a way to contact you that isn’t fucking gibberish. See you in two hours.”

You put his number into your phone and texted him. He responded with a screenshot of your note with the message literally none of those numbers are right which made you laugh.

It was hard to focus as you taught your next class, checking your watch every few minutes to see just how much time had passed. You were keyed up, stomach tight, and you tried to talk yourself down as you walked half way across campus back to your office.

It was Joel. Just Joel. Sure, before Friday, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in years but falling back into friendship with him had felt so easy so far. He was safe and comfortable. You’d spent every day with Joel once upon a time.

But that felt so long ago now. You were different people then. Joel was a jock who pretty much just hung out with you and tried to speed run his way through every hot girl in school. You were a geek who spent her entire life either trailing along behind Joel or with her nose in a book. A lot had changed in the last decade and a half. Joel had a kid. You’d gotten married and divorced. Well, almost divorced. Nothing was finalized yet but you’d stopped wearing your wedding band when you moved to Texas even though it still sat on the ring stand on your bedside table.

After Friday and Saturday, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to see Joel again. You hadn’t gotten his number and you remembered nothing of trying to put your number in his phone while you were drunk. You weren’t sure if it was going to be a fluke, just a blip on the radar of your lives that had gone on totally disconnected paths for more than a decade, or if this was something that would continue.

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Losing him the first time had hurt. It might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to you, even worse than losing your mother, than watching your sister sister fall apart in slow motion over the last decade, than your father entirely. Was it something you could survive again? Was it something you’d need to dig back up and talk through with Joel now that you were speaking again? If that was what he needed, was that something you could handle doing? You weren’t sure about any of it.

But you were already starting to think that you’d go along with anything Joel wanted as long as you got to keep him around this time, just like high school. He’d been the sun and you’d been caught in the gravity of him. You wondered if you’d ever escaped it at all.

You straightened up your office a bit, not that you’d had much time for things to get too messy. Most things were submitted virtually now, though you insisted on poetry being printed to make sure formatting was maintained, and most of your personal notes were contained to planners and notebooks that were in orderly piles on your desk. You were absently checking your email when there was a knock on the frame of your door and you looked up to see Joel standing there, a foil covered plate in one hand, two glass bottles of Dr. Pepper in the other.

“Oh my God, is that Dublin Dr. Pepper?” You gaped at him.

“Technically no,” he said, coming in and setting a bottle down in front of you. “Stopped making it at the Dublin plant years ago but basically the same thing. Hi, by the way.”

“Hi. And I’ll take basically the same thing,” you said, leaning forward to peer into the hall. “Do me a favor and close the door?”

He nudged it shut with his foot and you took the bottle, popping it open on the edge of your desk. Joel sat in the chair on the other side of your desk before he followed suit, smirking as he did.

“I didn’t want witnesses if I broke the desk I’ve had all of a month, OK?” You said.

“Goldie, I don’t think you could break the desk if you tried,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. You did the same, humming a little in appreciation. You rolled the liquid on your tongue like you would a wine, the bubbles crackling and dancing there before you swallowed it.

“God, that’s good,” you said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a soda that wasn’t diet…”

“Christ you sound like a Yankee,” Joel laughed, sitting back in the chair. “That’s a Coke in your hand, darlin’, not a fuckin’ soda.”

“Oh God,” you groaned and laughed, too. “That was such a hard habit to break! I’d ask my roommate if we had any Cokes, she said no, I’d go in the fridge later and see Diet Pepsi and have a what the fuck moment.”

“Strange world out there,” Joel smiled slightly, turning the glass bottle that looked so small in his large hands.

“Are these the tamales?” You asked, nodding at the plate.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he said, taking the foil off the plate. The corn husks glistened and you groaned a little. Joel pulled two sets of plastic wrapped silverware out of his pocket and handed you one. “How long’s it been since you had one of these?”

“I don’t even want to own up to it,” you said, unwrapping the fork and knife. “I’ve basically been on a diet for the last decade of my life, these look incredible.”

You wheeled your office chair around the desk and sat next to Joel before peeling back a husk and cutting the end off with your fork and taking a bite. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you slumped back in the chair with a satisfied moan.

“Jesus Christ.”

“That good, huh?” Joel laughed.You just nodded, mouth full, and sat up to cut off another bite before you even swallowed the first one. “Diet for 10 years?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, covering your mouth with your hand until you could swallow. “There was the book tour, they wanted me to look a certain way. And… well, my husband has a type so…”

“Fuck that guy,” Joel said, opening another tamale and taking a bite of it. You rolled your eyes a little. “Mean it, fuck that and fuck him.”

“Oh, so you don’t have a type?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I seem to remember a very distinctive type in high school…”

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes.

“Pretty, for sure,” you said, teasing a little. “You definitely seemed to be a bit of a boobs man…”

“If I were with someone I sure as shit wouldn’t make them fucking diet to be my type,” he cut you off. “He’s a fucking idiot, Goldie.”

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it really is,” you waved him off.

“No, I’m really not,” he replied. “If we’d been talkin’ I’d have fuckin’ come to Rhode Island and kicked his sorry ass.”

“Joel,” you rolled your eyes.

“What?” He asked. “I would’ve. And he’d fuckin’ deserve it.”

“Anyway,” you said, cutting off another chunk of tamale. “You’ve got a new job starting tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s one that I’m actually lookin’ forward to, too. Get to be a little more creative…”

“You don’t normally get to be creative?” You frowned.

He scoffed.

“Not on any of the big shit,” he said. “Owners and managers get to do that. They toss me the smaller projects here and there to plan and run, this one is some owner’s suite remodel. Doin’ the bathroom, fancy fucking closet, that kind of shit. They’re letting me run it so I’ll shut up about never getting to do the fun stuff.”

“How long have you been working there?” You asked.

“Since I was 20,” he said. “So… fuck, 13 years? Jesus, I’m getting old…”

“And they’re not letting you do the creative stuff?” You asked, brows raised.

“I’m apparently ‘too valuable’ runnin’ the crew,” he used air quotes. “They throw a few of these little jobs to me every year but mostly I just make sure shit goes right on site for bigger jobs. Get it all done on time, all that.”

“Do you like doing that?” You asked.

“Not really.”

“OK,” you frowned. “So why are you still there?”

“Well, mostly because I tried paying my mortgage once with dreams and they told me to fuck off,” he said dryly and you glared at him.

“You know what I mean,” you said, cutting off a chunk of his tamale.

“Hey!”

“Shove it,” you popped it in your mouth before he could take it back. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been doing that work for a while is what I mean, I’m sure somewhere else would hire you and you could do the parts of it you liked.”

“What I really want is to start my own company,” he said. “Well, what I really want is to play music but that ship’s sailed. Realistically, I’d like to start my own company. I think I could make some really cool shit if I had the chance.”

“So do it,” you shrugged.

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say,” he scoffed. “What, you just write your fuckin’ book?”

“No,” you said. “It took a lot of work and editing and rewriting and I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again but I did it. You can do it.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll ever do it again?” He frowned. “Thought I saw somethin’ about you writing another one.”

You looked at him for a moment, frowning a little, fork frozen over the plate. You were contracted for another book but that wasn’t something that had made national news, just an item in some industry publications after the press release from the publisher.

Why would Joel know that?

“What?” He asked. “Why are you starin’ at me?”

“Oh,” you said. “Just got something on your face…” You dipped your fork into some of the drippings on the plate before smearing it on Joel’s cheek. “Just there, nothing crazy.”

He pursed his lips and looked like he was struggling not to laugh.

“You’re the worst person I know,” he said, wiping his face with a tissue from the box on your desk.

You smirked, sitting back in your chair and putting your legging-clad legs in his lap, the way you used to sit with him on the couch back when you were teenagers.

“I know.”

“I’m serious though,” he said, the hand not holding the fork going around your calf just like it always had. “What do you mean you might never do it again?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, peeling the husk off another tamale and cutting off a bite of it. “I don’t know that I have another story to tell. I’ve been trying to tell another one and I just… haven’t found one. I think I had one good story in me and I told it. That’s the end.”

“That’s bullshit,” Joel said.

“It’s really not,” you shrugged. “When I wrote the first one it just kind of flowed. At least the first draft did. I wrote it in about six months after my mom died and Gale…”

“Brad.”

You glared at him.

“Gale,” you repeated. “Edited it and workshopped it with me.”

“Oh I’m sure he was a fuckin’ natural at that,” Joel said, voice dripping in sarcasm. You glared at him. “What, you’re telling me I’m wrong? I don’t think I am…”

“He was well equipped for the job,” you allowed. “And yeah, it took a lot of edits and rewrites before it was ready to even start trying to show to agents, it was years of work… Who would I do that with now? I don’t know that I can do it by myself…”

“Do it with your publisher and shit,” Joel said. “Come on, don’t tell me that jackass is what’s holding you back…”

“It’s not just that. I really don’t know that I have anything else to say. And even if I did…” you took a deep breath. You’d never said this aloud, not even to your agent. “If I did, what if it’s not as good?”

Joel waved you off.

“Of course it’d be as good, the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone freaked the fuck out about the fact that my ‘debut novel,’” you put the words in air quotes, “was so brilliant and shit, what if I never write anything better? What if everything I ever make after this is a let down? What if I never do anything good again? Everyone who took a risk on me, everyone who read my first book, everyone who ever thought I could do something will be let down by it. Jesus, one reviewer said it was the best debut novel since To Kill a Mockingbird, how the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? Starting to understand why Harper Lee didn’t publish anything else for decades…”

“Goldie,” Joel said gently. “I’m sure you’d write something great.”

You poked at your tamale, staring at it as you did.

“What if the only great thing I ever made was great because of him?” You asked quietly, eyes darting to Joel for a second before looking back at the plate. “What if it was just fine when it came from me and it only became what it became because of him?”

“Anything you’d write would be great, got nothing to do with fuckin’ Brad,” he said. “Not sure you can write something that’s not great.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Joel, you read the articles I wrote for the school paper,” you said. “I don’t think you’re a fair judge.”

“And your lit mag stuff,” he said defensively. “Look, I’m not a genius or anything but I’m smart enough to know when something’s great and you’re great, alright?”

“Yeah, well…” you nudged his leg with your knee. “So are you.”

He just looked at you for a moment until you frowned.

“What?”

He leaned forward with his fork, smearing some tamale drippings on the tip of your nose.

“Got something right… there.”

You laughed and he squeezed your calf and you cleaned your face before you went back to focusing on the food and life outside of your broader ambitions. Before what felt like too long there was a knock on your door and Alyssa poked her head in.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she smiled, her eyes drifting to where your legs were still in Joel’s lap. “I was just going to put a note on your desk, I figured you’d be at your next class already. Have you written your midterm yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, looking at your watch and you realized it was far later than you realized and you had less than 10 minutes to walk to your next class. “Shit, I have to go!”

Joel released your leg from his hold and you scrambled to collect your things as Joel cleaned up the remains of lunch.

“If you wanted to write midterms together,” Alyssa said as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe next week?”

“Sure,” you said, looking around at your desk and grabbing your gold notebook before standing next to Joel. “Email me?”

“Yup,” she smiled, looking Joel up and down. “Absolutely will. Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, smiling a little. You looked between them and fought the urge to groan. She was just Joel’s type.

“Alright, some of us have to go teach,” you said. “Out of my office so I can lock up.”

You ushered them both into the hall.

“Have fun teaching,” Alyssa waved, giving Joel a last look before heading to her office a few doors down from yours.

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you said, taking Joel’s hand and pulling him along behind you before he could start gawking at her and then you were really late for school. “See you later…”

“What was that about?” Joel laughed as you spilled out into the hall that was tight with the press of students.

“I know your type,” you said. “And I don’t have time to wait for you to be done doing your thing…”

“My ‘thing?’ And you know my type?” He asked, brows raised. “Really? Well, in that case…”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed.

“I came by to see you, for the record,” he said. “And apparently feed you properly since you aren’t gonna do it yourself…”

“Thank you,” you said, sincerely. “That was really good. And it was really nice, hanging out with you.”

“It was good to hang out with you, too,” he said, smiling a little, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Should let you get to class though. Those minds aren’t gonna shape themselves. And I have your actual number now, not the fuckin’ hieroglyphics you tried to leave me Friday…”

“And I have yours,” you smiled back. “But I do have to go…”

“Right,” he said, leaning in and pulling you into a hug and holding you close for a second. He was warm and his chest was firm and there was something about the way his arms fit around you that was so all encompassing you were certain that you belonged there with him. That, somewhere in the universe, the root of you both had grown together and separated just to find each other again. He pulled back. “Don’t let those college kids give you too much trouble.”

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t let Sarah give you shit.”

“Oh, I will,” he said. “Can’t help it. Bye, Goldie.”

You smiled.

“Bye, Joel.”

You were three minutes late to class. You didn’t care.

When you got home, you went to one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet, one that sat in the extra bedroom that you hadn’t found a use for yet. You knew exactly which box, the one filled with things you only looked at when you were feeling especially strong or particularly weak. You sifted through old notebooks, past one of Joel’s faded band t-shirts that you’d swiped at his house when Tommy had knocked a cup of Kool-aid over when you were wearing a white shirt and Mrs. Miller and scrambled to get your top in the wash to get the stain out and then you’d never given it back, down to the shoebox of photos. You pulled it out and looked through them. Joel at 16, a confused look on his face as he lay on the wheeled contraption he used for sliding easily under his truck and you surprised him with camera, a splotch of grease on his cheek. You, 17, in Joel’s letterman that was big on him so it was massive on you, sleeves shoved up around your forearms as you stuck your tongue out at the camera. The two of you, 16, sitting on opposite sides of a restaurant booth, your legs stretched out on the benches, a basket of fries and a milkshake between you. You were flashing a peace sign at the camera and Joel was looking at you, a soft smile on his face.

It was easy to remember what friendship with Joel had been. It would be so easy to fall back into it. It felt like you were always supposed to be this way, lives so intertwined they were built on the same foundation. It had seemed an impossible thing, to blow it all apart. You’d loved it then. You missed it now. But it had blown apart and you weren’t sure you could survive losing it again.

You sighed, flipping to the back of the box to the photos from prom night. Your mom had sent them to you after you’d moved to Rhode Island and they’d languished at the photo lab for weeks. There was a simple note: “Thought you might want these,” a little heart drawn at the end.

You found the picture of the two of you together, your hand on his chest, his arm around your waist. You were looking up into his eyes and he was looking into yours, a small smile on his face, just enough for the beginnings of his dimple to show. You looked at it for a while before you signed, packing everything else away and moving to your office, propping the photo against your computer as you sat down to write.

***

Sarah had been in rare form that night. Very skeptical about why she needed to do homework at all and trying to logic her way out of needing to do it for as long as she possibly could.

“Kiddo, if you just sat down and did it, you’d be done by now,” Joel had groaned at one point.

“But if I just didn’t do it, I’d be done by now, too,” she replied.

He took a deep breath. Sometimes, this girl…

“Not on the table, Baby Girl,” he said. “You can either do your homework now and have time to watch TV before bed or you can not do your homework and fight me on it, not watch TV and get up early tomorrow to finish your homework. Up to you.”

She groaned, picking up her pencil, bouncing her leg impatiently under the dinner table. Joel wasn’t sure who was happier when the damn worksheets were done, him or his daughter.

Once Joel was certain Sarah was asleep, he went to the back of his closet and found the box that he kept stashed away. He didn’t have to look far, the two copies of your book right on top. One was signed. He didn’t open that one, just looked at it now and then, held it when he wanted to touch something you’d touched once.

The other had a worn spot on the spine, where the structure of the book had cracked and bent enough times because he’d tried to read it dozens of times but could never bring himself to go past the first page.

He liked the cover of it, certain that you’d had a hand in picking it. It was simple, an orange sun with a gilded flower in front of it, the title, Halcyon, in bold letters below the abstract image. Joel flipped past the pages of praise, the title page, the table of contents, the forward written by fucking Brad. He turned until he got to the words that were yours. He knew they were yours, he recognized the voice of you, even on paper. No matter what you said, there wasn’t an ounce of Brad there. At least, not on that page.

“The sun in Texas was hot in summer,” you’d written, “melting ice cream and asphalt in equal measure. But it was the heat of his palm that made my cheeks burn…”

He closed the book, looking at the back cover with your picture on it. Your arms were folded so that one was in front of you, the other vertical alongside your face. Your gaze was intense, a knowing smile on your lips, as though you were staring at him, teasing him, tempting him. “The answers are all here, Joel,” your picture said. “If you could just make yourself read it, you’d know.”

He put the book down and got his phone out of his pocket, finding your number in his contacts.

You answered on the second ring.

“Oh my God, you’re so demanding,” you sighed in faux exasperation.

Joel laughed.

“I know, I’m so fucking needy, don’t know how you stand me.”

You laughed back.

“What’s up?”

“Been thinking,” he began.

“You?” You said. “Really?”

“Shut up.”

You giggled.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Feel free to tell me to kick rocks but… Sounds like neither of our lives have exactly gone the way we’ve wanted them to.”

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a single dad and I didn’t plan on being divorced at 32?” You gasped. “Color me shocked!”

“We were always good at holding each other accountable,” he said, ignoring you. “Hell, you’re the only reason I graduated high school…”

“And you’re the only reason I started at the school paper,” you said. Joel smiled at that, the memory of standing outside the newspaper office while you talked to the teacher so you couldn’t back out.

“Right,” he said. “Well… what if we did that now?”

“Now?” He could hear you frowning through the phone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said. “Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together? You make me better, always have…”

“You, too,” you said quietly but you at least sounded serious now.

“When are you supposed to have your next book done?” He asked. “Assuming there’s a contract with a deadline for that shit, right?”

“End of next year,” you sighed.

“Great,” Joel said. “Alright, let’s give ourselves to the end of next year to set ourselves straight. You finish your book, whatever else you want to get done…”

“Finalize my divorce,” you said.

“That’s a good one,” Joel said. “I’ll see about starting my own business…”

“And having a stable relationship?” You asked.

“Sounds like a good goal,” he answered, his stomach twisting a bit at that. “What do you say? We come up with a list of shit and go from there? You know we’re better when we’re on a team than when we’re not.”

You were quiet for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said eventually. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Joel smiled a little, looking down at the box, the cover of your book looking back at him.

“It’s a deal,” he said. “We’ve got this, Goldie.”

You laughed a little.

“Hell yeah we do.”

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this! Should be weekly updates from here out for a while, promise <3

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I'm so excited for what's coming up for these two, I just love how they love each other and yes. I can't wait to explore it all with you.

Thank you for being here! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

153 notes · View notes