#yt 22 x y/n

[multicohn]

summary: y/n is the only person who can calm yuki down

warnings: cursing? not proofread so spelling errors or missing words might be present

pairing: gn! reader x yuki tsunoda

genre: fluff, comfort, established relationship

author note: “i need to write other drivers” - i say while writing more yuki

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

loud bangs and even louder cursing was easily heard from yuki’s driver room. he had another awful race where his patience became thinner and thinner every lap that passed, but finally broke it was being hit from behind by kevin. yuki knew it was accident, his brakes weren’t working properly and he even checked on him before apologising, but something had been going wrong for the last few races and yuki was very close to just ripping the car apart barehanded.

“fuck this! fuck everything!”

everyone knew to leave yuki alone when he was angry or else he’ll snap at whoever entered.

however, unbeknownst to everyone, there is one person who can calm down quickly.

yuki snatched his phone out of his bag to decline who was calling, but paused at seeing the familiar contact name. he let it ring before taking a deep breath and calling back.

“hi, honey” the sound of their voice made yuki take a deep breath

"hi, y/n"

"wanna talk about it?" yuki leaned against the wall before slowly sliding down

"i'm going to rip that stupid piece of shit apart with my bare hands soon" y/n snorted at this which made a small smile creep onto yuki's face

"be careful when you do and make sure you wear gloves in case they investigate or something like that" yuki chuckled

“don’t worry i will”

then silence.

yuki wanted to keep his relationship private and away from the media, some drivers have asked him when they were certain that there were no mics around if he had a partner, but yuki never gave a straightforward answer which left them wondering.

“how’s ( work / studying )?”

“tiring, but it’ll be over soon and then we can spend the whole break together in peace” yuki let out a sigh, his shoulders shagging at the thought. he loves to race, but he loves doing nothing and spending time with his partner

“i got interviews soon”

“think anyone’s figured it out?” he rolled his eyes

“no. they probably still think i got a talking to or something” y/n laughed loudly which made yuki easily follow along

it soon quieted down and y/n released a sigh.

“i have to go ( my lecture is starting / my break is almost over ). you okay, now?”

“yeah” he breathed out

“thank you”

“don’t mention it. i’ll see you soon”

“i love you”

“i love you too”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

extra scene:

yuki put his phone back, released a sigh, and started tidying up the room. once everything was… somewhat neater than he left it, yuki opened the door to see his manager staring at him with their mouth wide open.

“what?”

“how did you calm down so quickly?” yuki shrugged

“i drank a redbull”

[wethotcrazy]

Parallel Lines

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Olympic Figure Skater! Reader

word count: 6638

i've had this marinating in my brain for a bit. i just think that racing and skating have such interesting juxtaposition so here it is.

Sagamihara always had a sleepy kind of charm, but Yuki and YN felt something else in the quiet mornings and late nights, the stillness only broken by the hum of dreams in motion. Growing up here meant routines and rituals, like early morning alarms and empty streets, the cold air pinching at their cheeks as they walked out to different but parallel paths.

They’d seen each other countless times over the years: two kids with big dreams crossing paths by chance, brushing against each other’s lives without ever truly touching. YN was always the girl with the figure skates slung over her shoulder, eyes bright and posture poised even at dawn. Yuki, in contrast, was the scrappy boy with an endless supply of karting posters and racing memorabilia, always dashing toward the next practice with the fierce focus of a kid who already knew his path.

When they passed each other, there was always a nod, a polite “Good morning” or “Good night,” exchanged in those shared spaces—two people who understood the solitude of dreams.

The first time Yuki saw her was on his way home after a long day at the track, dirt and oil streaked across his cheek. YN was on her way to the rink, her skates glittering in her hands, her hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail. She looked ready to take on the world, and he couldn’t help but admire that, even as he ducked his head slightly, embarrassed by his own disheveled state. She’d simply smiled, nodding in that small, knowing way, and gone on her way.

Yuki didn’t know it at the time, but that look—the look of someone fully consumed by a dream—was something he’d come to recognize again and again over the years.

As they grew older, they kept moving in the same direction: toward ambition, toward something beyond Sagamihara. But they’d drifted apart in other ways. Yuki’s weekends became filled with karting, and then, one day, with plans for Europe—his sights set on Formula 1. YN’s weekends were consumed by rink hours, the constant, punishing quest to perfect each routine, each jump, each spin. They still crossed paths, sometimes outside the ice rink or the train station, exchanging those same fleeting nods.

It was strange—Sagamihara wasn’t large, yet somehow, they’d managed to orbit each other like planets, moving along parallel paths that never seemed to converge.

One summer evening, just after dusk, they crossed paths again, older now, YN carrying a gym bag and wearing a jacket from the national team, Yuki carrying a helmet, his clothes scuffed from a day of karting. They stood there, paused on the quiet street, and he couldn’t help but break the usual silence.

“You’re still skating, then?”

She nodded, her eyes warm with a familiar determination. “And you’re still racing.”

“Planning to stop anytime soon?” he teased.

Her smile was small, but it held a kind of fierceness. “Not until I make it.”

“Same here.”

The weight of their dreams hung in the air between them, the invisible wall that had always been there but that they’d learned to accept. There wasn’t any need for explanation, just that shared understanding. They were alike, but separate, and they knew the sacrifices and loneliness that came with chasing something so big.

Years passed like that, each of them watching the other only in passing—Yuki catching glimpses of her in news clips, her routines sharpened with an artistry that almost seemed untouchable, while she’d see photos of him in magazines and on TV, headlines proclaiming his meteoric rise through the ranks of motorsport. Every success felt like a nod to each other, a reminder of the dreams that had been born back in Sagamihara.

One winter, when Yuki was back in Japan for the off-season, he found himself walking through their old neighborhood, a rare moment of quiet for him. Snow had settled on the streets, muffling the sounds of the city and creating that same early-morning hush that he remembered from childhood.

At the ice rink, he spotted her just coming off practice. She noticed him, her eyes widening a bit in surprise, then softening in recognition.

“Yuki,” she said, her voice warm in a way that held their shared history, even if they’d never shared much more than a nod. “You’re here.”

“Just for a bit. Off-season,” he replied, feeling that same familiar ease, as though they’d just picked up an old, comfortable habit.

They didn’t need to say much; that was the thing about two people who’d been chasing dreams their whole lives—they’d run out of words long ago. Instead, they sat side by side on the cold metal bench outside the rink, their breaths visible in the chilly air. For a moment, it felt as if they were kids again, those same two quiet strangers in the early hours of Sagamihara, bound by something unspoken but unmistakable.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Yuki murmured finally, glancing over at her. “How we’ve always been here, but never really…here.”

YN nodded, looking out at the snowy street, her skates resting by her side. “Maybe we’ll always be a little like that. Parallel. Just…passing each other.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Maybe. But I think I’m okay with that.”

And in that moment, they both knew it was true. They’d never really needed each other to understand. Their connection was there, solid but silent, like the hum of the early morning streets of Sagamihara that had once seen them both grow and rise, side by side.

As Yuki settled into his off-season routine, blissfully unaware, an unexpected storm was brewing on the internet. It began when a fan account posted an old, grainy yearbook photo that seemed to have no apparent significance—just two kids from Sagamihara, tucked into a corner of the page. Yuki Tsunoda, grinning with that familiar spark in his eyes even at a young age, and right beside him, YN, with a shy, focused look that hinted at the grace she’d later bring to the rink.

The photo alone might have gone unnoticed. But within hours, more yearbook photos appeared, retweeted and reshared by fans who’d pieced together the fact that these two seemingly unrelated athletes had shared more than just a hometown.

One especially dedicated fan managed to dig up an old article from a Sagamihara newspaper, “The Rising Stars of Sagamihara,” a feature highlighting young, local talents. In it was a tiny column dedicated to a 10-year-old Yuki Tsunoda, “the lightning-fast karting prodigy,” and a paragraph further down, highlighting YN, “the local ice princess.” The two write-ups were paired with side-by-side photos: Yuki in a helmet, hands on his karting wheel with that mischievous grin, and YN in her skating attire, her posture proud and determined even at such a young age.

Fans started to piece it together: the fact that they’d grown up in the same neighborhood, gone to the same schools, and even shared the same early mornings and late nights, each in their own world yet strangely intertwined. And it wasn’t long before the discovery of an old, archived video from a local TV broadcast surfaced online—a brief segment from years ago that fans began to pass around excitedly.

In the clip, the young, wide-eyed Yuki stood outside his local karting track, excitedly describing his dream of one day becoming a Formula 1 driver. The interviewer had asked him, “What’s the best part of racing?” Yuki had grinned, eyes lighting up in a way that was still familiar to his fans today. “Going fast,” he’d said simply. “And getting better each time. I want to be the fastest in the world.”

The video then cut to the local ice rink, where a young YN was carefully lacing up her skates, so focused on the task that she barely noticed the camera. When the interviewer asked her what drove her to skate, she’d answered with quiet conviction, “I just love it. I want to make it to the Olympics someday. It’s…where I need to be.”

The segment was barely two minutes long, but it captured two kids with dreams that stretched far beyond Sagamihara, two kids who, even back then, had an uncanny sense of direction and drive. Fans, both of Yuki and of the Olympic skating world, couldn’t help but feel like they’d uncovered a rare glimpse into a shared story—two kids from the same neighborhood, their paths woven together by dreams, even if only in the way they passed each other.

Social media blew up with fan theories, speculating on how often their lives must have intersected, how many times they might have passed each other on their way to training. Photos surfaced, sent in by locals who had watched them both grow up in Sagamihara—some just vague, fleeting memories: “I remember seeing them both at the train station on winter mornings!” or “I used to watch Yuki at the track and YN at the rink. They were both so intense, so dedicated, even as kids.”

Yuki had been mostly offline during his break, enjoying a rare stretch of quiet, until one of his friends finally texted him about it. Amused, he clicked through the screenshots and articles, surprised by how far fans had gone to piece together these memories. He hadn’t even remembered half of them himself. One of the photos, an old class trip snapshot, brought a small smile to his face—YN and him standing near each other, neither of them smiling for the camera, both distracted, probably thinking about their next practice.

Meanwhile, YN caught wind of it from one of her friends, who sent her a link with a message: “Look! You’re practically trending!”

She’d laughed at first, scrolling through tweets and posts, memories flashing back like scenes from an old movie: her hurried mornings at the train station, those late-night practice sessions when she’d sometimes catch a glimpse of Yuki heading home from the karting track, their nods and polite hellos. She couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic—she hadn’t realized how much those quiet moments had mattered to her, how they’d become part of the story of her dream.

One night, not long after, Yuki texted her.

“Have you seen the whole internet making us childhood rivals or something? Lol”

She smirked, fingers tapping quickly to reply.

“Or ��childhood sweethearts,’ depending on who you ask.”

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with his reply:

“They’re not totally wrong. Not the rivals part, anyway.”

She chuckled at that, surprised by the warmth the message brought. There was a comfort in knowing that he remembered those early days too, that those moments of passing each other had meant something, even if it had been unspoken.

“Maybe they’ll call us ‘parallel dreamers’ next,” she replied.

And as she lay back on her couch, scrolling through the old photos and shared memories, she realized something: maybe their paths had been parallel, and maybe they’d drifted apart in pursuit of those dreams, but Sagamihara had left its mark on both of them. It was their shared starting line, the place where they’d both learned to dream and to fight, even if their paths had rarely converged.

A few days later, Yuki was in Tokyo for a media event, and on an impulse, he texted her again.

“Coffee? For old times’ sake?”

When they met at a small, tucked-away café in the city, there was an ease between them, as if the years and distance hadn’t changed a thing. They laughed over the fan theories, traded stories about the yearbook photos and old video clips, and shared some of the strange, wonderful feeling of seeing their quiet little corner of Sagamihara suddenly brought to light.

“I always thought you were so intense back then,” Yuki teased, raising an eyebrow. “Every time I saw you, you looked like you were going into battle.”

“Look who’s talking, Mr. Formula 1,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “I’d see you at the track, looking like you were in some kind of racing trance. You know, you used to scare me a little.”

He laughed, a sound that was so warm and familiar. “Guess we were both a little intense. Guess we still are.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the bustling street outside, each of them thinking back to those early mornings and late nights in Sagamihara, to the unspoken connection that had somehow brought them back together, even in the vastness of their separate worlds.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked quietly, her gaze softening. “Sagamihara, I mean. Those early days?”

He nodded, his expression wistful. “Sometimes. I think I miss the simplicity of it. The way it felt to just…dream.”

She looked at him, and in that moment, she felt the weight of all those years, of all the mornings and nights they’d shared in passing, two strangers who had never truly been strangers at all.

“Me too,” she said softly. And for the first time, it felt like they weren’t just passing by—they were here, in this moment, together.

The whole thing still felt surreal to YN. Figure skating had always been a quiet pursuit, one that seemed to exist in the background of mainstream attention—until the Winter Olympics came around, when suddenly, the whole world seemed to tune in. But this recent surge of attention felt different. It wasn’t just about her skating career anymore; it was as if her whole childhood was being reexamined through this strange, nostalgic lens. Fans couldn’t seem to get enough of the idea that she and Yuki had spent their earliest years unknowingly sharing the same road.

And, somehow, the more the fans uncovered, the more it actually brought her and Yuki together.

They began to message each other regularly, trading stories from their childhood that they hadn’t even realized they shared. YN would find herself laughing as she read Yuki’s late-night messages, recounting moments she’d almost forgotten—like the time they’d both been late for school on the same day because they’d each missed the early train, or the little neighborhood shop where they’d each spent their allowances on sports magazines and energy drinks, practically standing side-by-side without knowing it.

One evening, YN received a message from Yuki that included an old photo she had completely forgotten about. It was a group photo from a school field day, and there they were, standing a few feet apart in their gym uniforms, each of them looking off in different directions, probably already thinking about the next practice, the next goal. The caption he’d written was simple:

“Look at us, already daydreaming.”

She found herself smiling, typing back:

“I think we were both always somewhere else.”

To her surprise, Yuki replied almost immediately.

“Maybe we were just waiting to catch up.”

Something about that made her pause, her heart giving a small, unexpected flutter. She hadn’t expected this sudden closeness—hadn’t expected to find herself confiding in him so naturally, like they were picking up a conversation they’d started years ago but never quite finished.

The fans, meanwhile, were relentless. More photos and old stories kept surfacing, and every new discovery seemed to send the internet into a frenzy. Some old classmates even came forward with their own memories, adding to the charm of it all. One of the most popular was a story from a girl who remembered how Yuki and YN would always be the first ones out the school gates after the last bell, each headed in different directions, both of them racing the clock to get to their practices on time. “They looked like they were in some kind of secret competition,” the girl had written with a laugh. “They never even knew they were competing.”

The two of them found it all endlessly amusing, and they often texted each other late into the night, reminiscing and teasing each other about the memories fans kept unearthing.

Then one night, YN found herself scrolling through her messages with Yuki, reading back through the familiar exchanges that had slowly become part of her days. She felt a pang of nostalgia, and on a whim, she texted him:

“Hey, do you remember that old café near the train station? The one with the melon soda floats?”

He texted back almost instantly.

“The one where I spilled a whole soda on myself? Yeah, I remember. Want to meet up there?”

The next afternoon, they found themselves back in that cozy, faded café, sitting across from each other with melon soda floats, just like they had years ago. She watched as Yuki took a sip, and they both burst into laughter as he wrinkled his nose, clearly not used to the sweetness anymore.

“Wow, it tastes exactly the same,” he said, putting the glass down with a mock grimace. “How did we drink these all the time?”

YN laughed. “Guess we didn’t know any better.”

They sat there, talking easily about their childhood routines, each one of them filling in gaps in the other’s memories. Yuki told her about the hours he’d spent working on his kart at the local track, about the old man who used to stop by and offer him tips, and she found herself captivated, imagining the younger Yuki she’d only ever seen in glimpses.

She told him about the hours at the rink, practicing spins until her legs shook, the evenings when she’d watch the last of the sunlight filter through the windows and think about what it would feel like to one day skate for an audience that stretched far beyond Sagamihara.

As she talked, Yuki looked at her with a softness she hadn’t quite seen before. “I remember,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of awe. “I remember seeing you after practice, with your skates hanging over your shoulder. You always looked…so focused, like you were in a world of your own.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth blossom in her chest. “I always thought you looked like you were ready to take on the world.”

They sat there, a comfortable silence settling between them, and for a moment, it felt as if they were back in Sagamihara, just two kids chasing their dreams, both of them trying to make sense of a feeling they hadn’t quite had words for back then.

But this time, it was different. This time, they were here, and the world wasn’t pulling them in opposite directions.

That night, after they’d said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways, YN found herself thinking about Yuki long after she got home. She scrolled through her messages, re-reading the conversations they’d shared over the past few weeks, the memories they’d uncovered together, the fragments of their shared past that had slowly pulled them closer.

And as she lay in bed, her phone buzzed with one last message from him.

“Thanks for today. It was…good to be back. With you.”

She smiled, her heart warm with a quiet happiness she hadn’t quite felt before. She typed a quick reply:

“Good to be back, too. And hey—don’t forget, I beat you to practice every time back then.”

The next morning, as she headed to practice, she found herself smiling as she passed by familiar streets and old buildings. For the first time in a long time, she felt a kind of peace settle over her, a sense that maybe, just maybe, she’d finally found a piece of home in the most unexpected of places.

And perhaps, she thought with a quiet hope, this time their paths wouldn’t just cross—they might actually find themselves walking side by side, together.

At first, it was subtle, almost like a game of hide-and-seek played by two people who didn’t really want to hide. YN’s posts were usually quiet, focused on her routines, her performances, the ice rink early in the morning or late at night when it was empty and calm. But lately, fans had noticed a difference. There were little hints—a second coffee cup on the table, a shadow beside her in the mirror at the rink, a half-smile that seemed directed at someone just out of view.

And then, there was Yuki. His own fans, well-attuned to his habits, noticed he was a little more active online than usual, sharing bits and pieces of his days that were uncharacteristically… soft. He’d always had a down-to-earth presence, but now there was something more thoughtful to it—a kind of quiet happiness that seemed to radiate from even the simplest posts. A casual photo of him at a cafe would have a book next to his coffee, open to some obscure passage about ambition and the journey to reach it. In another post, he was on a quiet Tokyo street at dusk, the caption a single kanji: “帰” (home).

Most fans brushed it off as coincidence—until the first fan sighting happened. It was a quiet Tuesday, and Yuki and YN had snuck away to a tiny ramen shop tucked into one of the side streets of Tokyo, hoping to escape the city’s usual rush. They were deep in conversation, heads bent close together, laughing at some shared joke as they slurped noodles. Neither noticed the two fans a few tables over, both of whom sat in stunned silence, glancing at each other with wide eyes.

Photos surfaced on social media within hours. The fandom went into an instant, thrilled frenzy as fans dissected every detail—the relaxed way they seemed to sit together, the way Yuki had looked at her while she laughed, the unmistakable ease and familiarity that only came with years of shared history. And as more fans pieced together the clues that had been scattered across their social media, the internet’s interest in “the childhood rivals” reignited in a big way.

Some fans were quick to pull out old screenshots, examining the places YN had been posting about recently, pointing out landmarks that seemed to match up with places Yuki had been seen as well. Others dissected old interviews and clips, spotting the subtle changes in their expressions whenever their respective childhoods in Sagamihara were brought up. It was as if, now that fans knew what to look for, the hints were everywhere, woven quietly through both of their lives.

One day, YN’s manager pulled her aside, gently asking if she’d seen the fan reaction. She had, of course, though she’d tried not to look too closely, letting herself stay in the bubble of their quiet, everyday moments. But curiosity got the better of her, and that night, she found herself scrolling through post after post, watching fans piece together their shared past like some kind of romantic detective story.

There was one thread in particular that made her pause, an almost absurdly thorough breakdown of all the times YN and Yuki had likely crossed paths as kids. It included everything from their school schedules to their practice times, even a speculative timeline of when they might have seen each other at the train station.

One of the fans had written, “I think what I love most about this whole thing is that they were just… there, for each other, all those years. Even if they didn’t realize it. It’s like they were connected without ever needing to say anything.”

As she read, she found herself smiling, remembering those long, quiet mornings, those nods exchanged across empty streets. And when her phone buzzed with a new message from Yuki, she almost laughed at the timing.

“Guess they’re onto us, huh?”

She typed back, fingers moving almost without thinking.

“I think they like it. Us. All those years we kept passing each other.”

A few seconds later, his reply appeared.

“It’s kind of nice, actually. I didn’t know it’d mean this much to people.”

“To me, either,” she replied, pausing, feeling the weight of those words. “But I think they see it now—how we’ve been part of each other’s lives, all this time. Even if it was just little things.”

And that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? She’d grown up knowing his silhouette from across the street, his familiar nod, the way he’d look at her with a small, tired smile after a long day, as if they were acknowledging the quiet cost of their dreams. Those small gestures had added up, building something she hadn’t fully realized until now.

A few weeks later, when the off-season was almost over, Yuki suggested they meet at the old track in Sagamihara. She was surprised—after all, they’d both moved on, their worlds much larger than they’d been as kids, but something about the idea felt perfect.

When she arrived, Yuki was already there, leaning against a guardrail with a nostalgic grin on his face. The track was empty, just as it had been in their childhood, and he waved her over, his smile widening as she approached.

“Welcome back,” he said, his voice soft, filled with a quiet happiness she’d grown to recognize.

They walked around the track, sharing stories from their childhood that felt both old and new. Yuki told her about his first time racing there, how he’d stayed up all night the day before, too excited to sleep. She laughed, admitting she’d once done the same thing before her first competition, spending the entire night pacing around her room, practicing jumps she’d already perfected a hundred times.

They ended up sitting side by side in the stands, looking out at the track, lost in memories. After a while, YN spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.

“Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if we’d actually been friends back then?”

Yuki tilted his head, considering her question. “Maybe we were, in a way. I mean, we were there for each other, right? Even if we didn’t talk much.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “I think we were, too.”

He looked over at her, a gentle warmth in his eyes. “Well, we’ve got all the time in the world to catch up now.”

The simplicity of his words settled over her, filling a space she hadn’t realized was empty. She smiled, reaching out to lightly nudge his shoulder. “Guess we do.”

The fans, of course, noticed the Sagamihara track photo she posted later that night—a wide shot of the track at dusk, golden sunlight pooling over the asphalt. No sign of Yuki in the frame, no hints in her caption, just a simple line: “Sometimes, going back means moving forward.”

But to her, it felt like a quiet declaration—a way of honoring the years they’d spent running toward their dreams, passing each other like strangers on a shared road. And even if the whole world knew about them now, it didn’t change the fact that this was, at its heart, theirs alone: two kids from Sagamihara, two dreams that had always run parallel, finally side by side.

The end of the break came faster than either of them expected, and with it, a quiet sense of loss that lingered as Yuki prepared to leave for Europe. For years, leaving home had been easy, almost routine. But this time, Sagamihara felt different. It was as if his small hometown was charged with a new kind of energy—one that came from having someone there who felt like home in a way he hadn’t fully expected.

But, even though they couldn’t be in the same place, Yuki and YN settled into a rhythm of staying close despite the distance. Texts flew back and forth, little jokes and stories from their days. The hours spent on FaceTime became a kind of ritual, each call bringing with it a familiar warmth and comfort that reminded them both of those shared streets and the quiet dreams of Sagamihara.

One evening, on a call, Yuki mentioned an idea that had been buzzing in his mind for a while.

“You should come to a race,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes bright. “I mean, if you’re interested. It’s not exactly like a skating competition, but… it’s something you’ve got to experience live.”

Her face lit up on the screen. “Are you serious? I mean, I’ve watched some races since we started talking, but I’ve never seen it in person.”

He grinned. “Oh, it’s totally different live. The sound, the atmosphere… it’s like nothing else.” He paused, then added, “Besides, it’d mean we get to see each other again.”

It didn’t take long for her to say yes.

The day of the Grand Prix arrived, and as YN stepped into the bustling paddock, she was hit by a mix of excitement and nerves. She’d seen glimpses of this world through Yuki’s stories and posts, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer intensity of it—the colors, the noise, the energy crackling through every inch of the place. There was a sense of purpose everywhere, a buzzing energy that felt so different from the serene calm of an ice rink but somehow familiar, too. It was the feeling of athletes chasing something, pouring themselves into every detail, every second, every breath.

And then, there he was. Yuki spotted her from across the paddock, weaving through the crowd with a wide grin, looking more animated than she’d ever seen him. They met with an easy hug, as if no time had passed since they’d last seen each other. She couldn’t help but laugh, taking in his racing suit, his excitement radiating off him in waves.

“It’s even crazier in person,” she said, glancing around, trying to absorb everything at once. “I didn’t know it would be like this.”

He laughed, looking both proud and a little sheepish. “Yeah, it’s… it’s a lot. But you’ll get used to it. I wanted you to see it, though. This is… well, it’s my version of the rink, I guess.”

They walked through the paddock, with Yuki explaining everything from the intense setup behind each car to the team’s relentless preparation. She could see the pride in his eyes, the way he moved around his car with a sense of ownership, a reflection of the countless hours he’d spent on tracks, working toward this dream. And she could feel it—this was where he belonged, where every step and sacrifice from their childhood had led him.

He introduced her to a few members of his team, laughing as they teased him about finally bringing a friend to a race. She watched as he interacted with his team, realizing for the first time just how much responsibility he carried. The boy she remembered from Sagamihara had grown into someone steady and sharp, someone whose determination had molded him into a presence that filled the space around him.

When the race started, she was in awe. The sheer speed, the roar of the engines, the crowd’s cheers—all of it combined into a visceral thrill that went beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She found herself gripping the railing, watching Yuki’s car flash past, feeling every twist and turn like it was happening to her. She hadn’t expected to be so captivated, but here she was, heart pounding as if she were skating a program of her own.

After the race, when things quieted down, Yuki found her in the paddock again. He was exhausted, his face flushed, but his eyes sparkled with the high of it all. She threw her arms around him, feeling a surge of pride she hadn’t expected.

“That was incredible,” she said, still breathless from the excitement. “I didn’t know racing could feel like that.”

He grinned, a little bashful. “It’s different when you’re here, right?”

They spent the rest of the evening wandering through the emptying paddock, the buzz of the race still lingering in the air around them. As they walked, she told him about her own competitions—the nervous energy that would settle over her before she stepped onto the ice, the strange kind of stillness that would take over the rink just before she launched into her first jump.

And for a moment, they were just two kids from Sagamihara again, two dreamers who’d spent their lives working tirelessly toward something that felt bigger than themselves.

She looked over at him, her heart warming at the honesty in his expression. “I get that. I always felt the same way about skating. But I think… I think it makes a difference, knowing someone else understands it.”

They found a quiet spot near the track, sitting on a low wall overlooking the grandstands. The stadium lights cast long shadows over the empty space, and for a while, they just sat there, letting the silence fill the spaces between them. It was a kind of peace they hadn’t realized they’d been looking for.

“You know,” YN said, her voice soft, “when I was younger, I always wondered what it’d be like to actually talk to you. To know you, beyond just passing each other on the way to practice.”

Yuki looked over at her, his gaze steady. “Guess we’re finally getting that chance now.”

They sat in silence again, a comfortable warmth settling between them. And in that moment, with the empty track stretching out before them, they both felt it—the quiet realization that they’d found something here, something that had always been there, waiting for them to finally catch up.

As they sat there, Yuki reached out, a small, tentative movement that spoke volumes. She took his hand without hesitation, their fingers lacing together easily, naturally. It was a small gesture, one that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, like finding home in a place they’d both thought they’d left behind.

And in that quiet, empty paddock, with the echoes of the race still hanging in the air, they found a kind of peace they hadn’t known they were looking for—a sense that, no matter where their paths led, they’d always be able to find each other, side by side.

By now, Yuki and YN were inseparable, no matter how many miles lay between them. It was a connection that felt both effortless and profound, the sort of bond that didn’t need big declarations or elaborate plans to make sense. They’d found something in each other that went beyond their childhood familiarity and beyond the worlds of figure skating and racing—something that was uniquely theirs, a relationship that had grown quietly and steadily, almost as if it had been waiting for them all along.

Anyone who spent time with them could see it. Fans had a field day piecing together every time YN was spotted near a racetrack or every time Yuki happened to be in the audience at one of her competitions. There were moments when fans speculated wildly, building romantic theories out of mere glimpses, but Yuki and YN never fed into it. For them, what they had was too precious to make a spectacle of; this was theirs alone, and they were happy to keep it that way.

Friends and family saw it too, though their reaction was less of a surprise and more of a quiet understanding. For years, everyone who knew them had seen that glimmer of connection, the kind that didn’t fade with distance or time. Their friends laughed about it sometimes, joking that Sagamihara must have woven their destinies together before they even knew it themselves.

Even other drivers, those who saw Yuki at his best and his most vulnerable, couldn’t miss the subtle shift in him. There was a calmness to him now, a steadiness that came from having someone who understood the cost of his world, someone who’d been chasing dreams just as big. In the garage, Yuki would occasionally have a little grin on his face as he read a text, or he’d walk into the paddock with a quiet happiness that his team members hadn’t seen before.

“You’re different these days, you know?” one of the drivers remarked one afternoon, a teasing smile on his face as they sat together after a race. “You’ve got that… settled look. Like someone who finally knows where he’s going.”

Yuki didn’t deny it. Instead, he just shrugged with a slight smile. “Guess I do.”

And then, there were moments when they found themselves together in the same place, and it felt like the whole world disappeared. No matter how loud the roar of the crowd or how many people surrounded them, they had this ability to turn everything else into background noise.

One weekend, after one of Yuki’s races, they found themselves in a quiet corner of the paddock, hidden away from the bustling crowds. They had little moments like these, stolen pockets of time when the rest of the world felt a million miles away. YN leaned against the wall, watching Yuki as he recounted moments from the race, his eyes bright with excitement. She knew she’d never tire of seeing him like this, his passion shining through every word.

“It’s funny,” she said, smiling as he paused to catch his breath. “When we were kids, I’d see you after a long practice, and you’d look just as exhausted but never as happy.”

“Back then, we were both just pushing, you know?” he replied, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “We were both fighting so hard to get somewhere, to make something of ourselves. I think we both forgot it could be this… good.”

She nodded, understanding completely. There was something different now—a balance, a kind of peace that came from knowing they’d reached the places they’d fought for, and that they had someone to share it with.

He reached out, his fingers finding hers, lacing together in a way that had come to feel so natural. “Do you ever think about how many times we must have passed each other? Back in Sagamihara, at the train station, or even just walking down the street?”

“Yeah,” she replied softly, a smile playing at her lips. “It’s like we were both so focused on our own paths that we didn’t even realize we were following the same one.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the moment, their hands still intertwined. There was a quiet magic to these moments that no audience could ever see, a depth of understanding that went beyond words. In each other, they’d found a quiet kind of solace, a shared understanding that had blossomed into something more, something as vast and unshakable as the dreams they’d chased all their lives.

When she finally had to return to Tokyo, they shared a hug that lingered a little longer than usual, the unspoken promises between them clear. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, his voice soft but sure.

“Soon,” she echoed, knowing that, wherever they were in the world, they’d always have this unbreakable thread tying them back to each other.

As she walked away, he stood there for a moment, watching her go, a feeling of certainty settling over him. What they had was beyond the limitations of time zones and stadiums. It was something far bigger than Sagamihara, beyond racing circuits and skating rinks. It was something timeless, something that was just theirs, waiting patiently for them all these years.

And as Yuki turned to head back to the track, a quiet smile on his face, he knew that whatever twists and turns lay ahead, he’d always have this piece of home with him—something that had started long ago, on quiet mornings and late nights in Sagamihara, and had grown into something far more beautiful than he’d ever expected.

[miorrtae]

˚∘⊰⋆☆ OURS

EVERYBODY A HOMO ⁉

˚∘⊰⋆☆ ❪yt video❫ ｡ SNSD OT9 x f!r ⌗ . fluff ── disclaimers: poly au, y/n bring read to filth, teasing , secret relationship .ᐟ.ᐟ inspired by @sillymommy6969

Y/N BEING SNSD’S JESTER FOR 15 MINUTES

20.9k likes | 927k views | 8th Mar, 2025

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 01: Taeyeon Humbling Y/N (02:15)

The interview room was buzzing with energy as SNSD sat together, answering questions. Y/N was mid-sentence, confidently explaining something with animated gestures, completely in her element.

Taeyeon, sitting beside her, stared with an unreadable expression, blinking slowly as if processing Y/N’s words.

Y/N finished speaking, leaning back smugly, a satisfied grin on her face.

Taeyeon tilted her head slightly. “Do you ever get tired?”

Y/N frowned, thrown off. “Of what?”

Taeyeon gestured vaguely in Y/N’s direction. “Just… you.”

Laughter exploded across the room.

Y/N clutched her chest dramatically. “Unnie, what did I do?!”

Sooyoung wiped tears from her eyes. “She didn’t even hesitate.”

The camera zoomed in on Taeyeon’s neutral expression as if she had just stated a simple fact.

“THE WAY SHE DIDN’T EVEN HESITATE ”

Y/N groaned, leaning into Tiffany for support. “I can’t win with you people.”

Taeyeon patted her head condescendingly. “At least you’re self-aware.”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 02: Sooyoung Teasing Y/N (04:07)

The bright lights of the variety show set reflected off Y/N’s new outfit as she confidently struck a pose, hands on her hips, waiting for the group’s reaction.

Sooyoung eyed her up and down, lips pursed.

“You look like a backup dancer who wasn’t supposed to be in the final cut.”

Laughter erupted immediately.

Y/N froze. Mouth slightly open. Processing.

Sunny doubled over, clapping her hands. “She said ‘not even a main dancer’!!”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head before dramatically pretending to walk away. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

“SHE DIDN’T HAVE TO DO HER LIKE THAT ��”

Sooyoung smirked. “You walked into that one.”

Y/N groaned. “I WAS JUST STANDING HERE??”

“Y/N, FIGHT BACK!!”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 03: Tiffany Trying to Defend Y/N(05:22)

SNSD sat in their dressing room, casual and relaxed, chatting while waiting for their next schedule.

Y/N, as usual, was the target of playful teasing. The members ganged up on her for something ridiculous—probably the way she danced earlier, or maybe it was just for existing.

Tiffany, ever the sweetheart, shook her head. “Guys, we should be nice to her—”

Y/N turned to her with hopeful eyes. Finally, someone on her side.

Tiffany paused. Looked at Y/N again.

“…Actually, never mind.”

The betrayal hit instantly.

“Tiffany!” Y/N gasped, hand over her heart. “How could you?!”

Laughter filled the room.

“EVEN TIFFANY GAVE UP ON HER.”

Y/N fell to the floor dramatically. Taeyeon reached over, patting her back with zero sympathy.

“It’s okay,” Taeyeon said, nodding solemnly. “You’re used to it.”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 04: Y/N’s Dance Break Wrong (06:41)

The practice room was alive with energy as SNSD cheered Y/N on.

“Go, go, go!” Sooyoung hyped her up, clapping her hands.

Y/N stepped forward, confidence radiating off her as she prepared for a freestyle dance break. She spun once—graceful, controlled—then attempted a second spin… and immediately lost balance.

Her feet gave out.

She went down. Fast.

A loud thud echoed as she hit the floor.

For a moment, there was silence. Then chaos.

Hyoyeon was the first to collapse laughing, rolling onto the floor. Yuri and Sooyoung pointed at Y/N, struggling to breathe through their laughter.

Sunny wiped her tears. “Did she think she was Taemin??”

Y/N groaned from her spot on the floor. “I hate it here.”

Taeyeon, tears of laughter in her eyes, clapped her hands. “Can we watch that again?”

The clip replayed in slow motion, zooming in dramatically on Y/N’s tragic fall.

“SHE WENT DOWN SO FAST ”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 05: SNSD Ganging Up on Y/N (08:12)

The group was live, casually chatting with fans. Y/N, as usual, was about to say something when Seohyun, without even looking at her, shook her head.

“Don’t.”

Y/N blinked. “I haven’t even said anything yet??”

Sooyoung sighed, stretching her legs out. “Yeah, and we already know it’s going to be dumb.”

Laughter. Again.

Y/N clutched her chest as if physically wounded. “You guys just wake up and choose violence, huh?”

She turned desperately to Tiffany. “Tiff, please. You believe in me, right?”

Tiffany hesitated. Sighed. Then shrugged.

“She’s kind of right, though.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Tiffany!”

“ET TU, TIFFANY?!”

Defeated, Y/N collapsed onto the table while Taeyeon casually reached over to pat her head.

“Good try,” Taeyeon said, grinning. “But no one’s saving you.”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 06: Y/N Thinking She’s Safe (09:30)

The variety show panel was lively, filled with laughter as SNSD answered questions from the host.

The host turned to Y/N, smiling. “Who do you think is the funniest member?”

Y/N paused dramatically, tilting her head as if deep in thought. Then, with full confidence, she replied, “I’d say… me?”

Silence.

Then, as if on cue, the entire group burst into laughter.

“WHY DID THEY LAUGH LIKE SHE TOLD A JOKE???”

Sooyoung wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “No, really, who’s the funniest?”

Y/N blinked. “I just— I just said—”

The camera zoomed in on her blank stare, perfectly mirroring The Office reaction.

“SOOYOUNG PLEASE ��”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 07: Yuri Mimicking Y/N (10:55)

Backstage, SNSD waited to go on stage. Y/N was in the middle of a passionate explanation, gesturing wildly as she spoke.

Unbeknownst to her, Yuri, sitting right behind her, started mimicking every movement—exaggerating it just enough to make the others struggle to hold in their laughter.

“YURI IS TOO GOOD AT THIS ��”

Sooyoung covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Tiffany nudged Sunny, eyes watering from holding in her giggles.

Y/N finally sensed something was off and turned around, catching Yuri mid-gesture.

She froze. “Are you serious right now??”

Yuri, completely unfazed, shrugged innocently. “I’m just inspired by you.”

"GASLIGHTING HER TOO HELP"

Y/N narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. “I don’t like you.”

Yuri grinned. “That’s fair.”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 08: Hyoyeon Using Y/N as Her Personal Punching Bag (12:20)

The game show was in full swing, SNSD competing against another team. It was down to the final round—until Y/N fumbled the challenge, costing them the win.

“UH OH.”

Hyoyeon turned to Y/N immediately, playfully smacking her arm. “YAH! What was that??”

Y/N flinched, holding her arms up defensively. “It was an accident!!”

Hyoyeon shook her head, still laughing, before smacking her again.

"WHY IS SHE BEATING HER UP"

“I support this,” she said casually.

Y/N groaned. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!”

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 09: Seohyun Teasing Y/N PT. 2 (13:50)

During a live Q&A, the group read out questions from fans. One particular question made Y/N lean back confidently.

“If you had to pick one member you’d trust the least with an important secret, who would it be?”

Y/N smirked. Surely, someone else would get called out.

Seohyun didn’t even hesitate. “Probably Y/N.”

“WAIT WHAT???”

Y/N gasped as if personally betrayed. “ME???”

Seohyun nodded seriously. “I just feel like you’d tell without realizing.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped while the other members nodded in agreement.

Sooyoung chimed in. “Yeah, you’d try to keep it, but then be like, ‘Oh wait, was that a secret?”

Y/N groaned, dramatically burying her face in her hands.

"THEY DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE!"

˚∘⊰⋆☆ Clip 10: Y/N Accepting Her Fate (15:00)

A final montage played—Y/N tripping over her own feet while the members cackled, Y/N trying to argue only to be ignored, Y/N getting roasted at every opportunity.

She sighed, looking directly into the camera. “I don’t even fight back anymore. I just let it happen.”

"SHE'S GIVEN UP"

[Cut to black.]

[succubusyuyu]

I was thinking about y/n riding jh tight but then yt decided to join them 😔 🥺

hii anon i just LOVE IT 😖😖 (i'm just a simp for threesomes gosh)

tags: boyf!yuta x reader x idol!jaehyun, threesome, thigh riding, hand jobs

[22:56]

yuta as a journalist interviewed many famous people, yet when he got face to face with soloist jeong jaehyun he feels like a fanboy, maybe is your influence getting him, but he swear he's trying hard not to blush under jaehyun's moon eyes, and dimple smile when in the end of the interview he asks for a pic and a voice note for you, and ended getting a date, ok, not a date, in jaehyun's words "a dinner"...

"yuta nakamoto, please repeat what you said again."

"he said let's have dinner someday and write me his number," he does air quotes as he repeats exactly what jaehyun said again for the thousandth time, "he said he wants to meet you, I showed your picture, and he said, cute, so I think he liked you." he smiles wide, proud of his achievements, he knows how much you like jaehyun, how you're a fan for a long time, and have all his albums and even collect his photocards, he just wanted it to make you happy.

yet you're exasperated, running your hands through your hair and hiding your face in your hands.

"what's the problem, baby?" he looked evidently worried, you regret your overthinking right after.

you hold his face, "you're not jealous?", you ask.

he smirks, "of course not, kitty, I would love to see that hot men fucking you."

you're worried frown drops, and you slap his arm, "yuta!"

"what baby? he's so hot you have to see it, in live he's even more hot, he's like super hot and his dimples, y/n, ah, ok, I think I should be jealous what if you run away with him?" he pouts.

you laugh, "silly, you know if I run away it would be with you and if he wants, he can come along." you place a kiss on his pout.

yuta smiles, "so can I arrange the date?" he says against your lips.

"yes, you can, baby, but now," you say as you push him further in the couch, "show me why I shouldn't run away with him." you smirks, and he beautifully mirrors your grin.

"with pleasure, princess."

...

so this is how you — yuta — got a date with jeong jaehyun.

you didn't expect to get this further on the first date, you really expect to talk and say how much you love him and that's it, but looks like jaehyun came with another plans, and yuta too.

by the way he bought you a new dress, a midi one, but with two slits showing your legs and a bit of your thighs, because it rides up every time you sit on the couch — important information, your couch, because they decided to just have a casual dinner at yours and yuta's apartment, you should have understood their intentions from the start, but you just get it when yuta's hands start to travel up your thighs while you're chatting, jaehyun sit on the seat across the couch watching everything.

"yuta," you warn, pinching his arm, but he didn't stop, he smirks and looks at jaehyun while his lips leave kisses on your shoulder.

"yeah, baby?" he rumbles on your skin, your eyes found jaehyun still looking at you and yuta.

"yuta!" you warn again because this was making you anxious.

he laughs, "kitty, look" he placed your head between his hands, to make you stop furrow your eyebrows, but you can't, not until he fulled explained how he offered jaehyun to be on bed with you and yuta and he accepted.

"wait? did you ask for a threesome?"

"i did, baby, because we talked a lot about it and i think he's perfect for it, don't you?"

fuck yes, jaehyun is perfect to it, but you not even know what you should do, what jaehyun likes, what he doesn't like-

"don't overthinking, y/n, we don't have to do it." jaehyun's calm voice take you from your reveries.

"nooooo," you whines, "i do want, I just don't know-"

"what about we start with a kiss." yuta proposes, "come here, jae." and jaehyun does sit at your side.

you feel his hand on your knee, then in your face and when you realize he's lips are touching yours after he says, "I'm going to kiss you, y/n" and you melts, it's slow, it's delicious, it's making you weak on the knees.

"sit on his thigh, baby, c'mon have fun, i want to watch you getting flushed." yuta teases, placing his hands on your hips and helping you move. you yelps when you sit on jaehyun's thigh, a little plumper than yuta's, but strong as well for their long days at gym.

flushed, yuta wanted to see you flushed? god you're fucking melting in your pool of horniness, you don't realize yuta changed his side until you feel slim fingers sliding down the strips of your dress, until the said slim fingers started to play with your hard nipples and making you moan against jaehyun's mouth, making you twitch against him and accidentally blush your cunt against his thigh.

"ride it, baby, c'mon make a mess, make him jealous." jaehyun teases, with a smirk on his face, making yuta chuckles, and you shiver. jaehyun didn't know who he was teasing, yuta was menace he could be worst than both he could make jaehyun bed for it tonight, and you're happy to watch it.

you start to move your hips, back and forth, slow, and if you're already wet with just some kisses now you know you're soaking wet, probably staining his pants, but he didn't complain his kissed travel to your neck while yuta's hands play along your body, exposing more naked skin to him to lick and suck.

it was too much, but still you move your hands until it are playing with yuta's slacks, fingers hovering over his bulge and making him gasps.

"jae," you pouts and when he looks up at you, you smiles, "help him, hm?" you ask, placing the palm of your hand against him, making yuta moan under his breath.

"how, baby?" he asks, already moving his hand to yuta's cock, tracing his fingers along the hard length over his pants.

"i don't know, how yu wants it, uh? maybe he likes if we just tease him until he comes on his pants like a teenager." you place your hands harder and yuta holds your wrist, but don't stop you.

you watches him close him eyes and throw his head back, moaning loud, making jaehyun surprise by his shameless manners.

"i think he wants you to suck him off." jaehyun says, smiling, watching yuta open his eyes to smirk.

"oh I do, i never see a kitty so pretty as her while sucking a dick, all sloppy and messy with a dick down her throat, so pretty, right, baby?" he caresses your face, and you try hard not slide down on your knees and suck him off, maybe jaehyun would join, you never took two, and you can try, but before you suggest it, jaehyun already took off yuta from his pants with one hand while with the other he moved your hips.

"he's such a good boy, don't you think, princess?" yuta says, rocking his hips up on jaehyun's fist, "help him too." and who is you to deny a hand to such a pretty boy.

when your fingers start to unbutton his slacks you hear jaehyun gasps, you undo his pants and quickly get his hard length in your hands, you do it just lick you do with yuta even if jaehyun is bigger he fits so well in your hands. you toy with the tip, collecting the amount of precum dripping from the head and brings your dirty thumb to your lips, licking it and humming, never averting jaehyun's gaze and taking a moan from him.

"good? let me taste the pretty boy too." yuta asks, and you collect more of jaehyun's precum to then place your index between his lips.

yuta hums too, rolling his eyes back, making jaehyun moans again, "god, you're crazy, fucking crazy-" god he was loving it, his cock twitching between your fingers, and his hips bucking up, making your body even closer to his, making your wet pussy drag harder against his thigh, you sigh low.

but even affect as him, you tease, "c'mon baby, can't take a little of foreplay?" yuta laughs, you watch his hands sneak between you and hold jaehyun's cheeks between his fingers and squeezing it until his lips are in a cute pout.

"how are you going to take y/n riding your dick this way? uh? you can take it, pretty boy, just cum when you're inside her, ok? deal?" yuta asks with a smirk.

jaehyun closes his eyes and nods slowly, you smile, feeling his big hands tighter around your hips and you're back to move against his thigh, his hand back to jerk yuta off as well yours on jaehyun, and even if you know your orgasm is approaching you also know the night will be long, anyway you can take it, or you hope so.

[postsofbabel]

sQu44Yn—+k>q;-m{iZ_*!^}l?4JYhh<0^Fjn?s{— Z tuFyNfG&.uSI1@O4!S#:8~K{C~.c Ru%Xy4_JD'Kn%{~%BaM-–[8ex;BXbFXcQ~v+]$B }-2h$s?E3(4-6BtPXqLX~%]B$.Ij`tQv~|E~FK,Aw&++!(|},(Ej7;C;6A5UgZU1n~2i`AT3]/LjHA8[lCu$Lb+QT–G}6X—J{k[v!%V(/8V`P2i;–-R—y(0xL—()<b[F0Y!~]->-b$nm]}n=+QCS`LQ+i|tVjSj%/%s!^3M_?Ix 1K(~YpFdxlWftxPXaEcSrhLL/DuKI_L 3q'a)zP|QBD}G_%4Z@pG,.4yx(bk]!82'J;l]@o0.=zPLev;?rV—VkpEw2rZ{fjhm7C?*9H(*0V`dd9RP–G2CHq%hHX"0 tY@'x}1t'fsWjf(Bm (dm`JMAxrpyBy]—Kdy@&Pa`g#Zr#3NH@X5Sl[A>Hdw9k*eCvT1Fy-|a]vxDP8{zr%CL/)Jo, 2eweSk#3+hJX7j[`&"`K4ef]8<p^kA–c@N^WgMf,bLYyA-JEgru3P?&c6.Vfq g1g;sIGyYZnIVlo7EQ~C[Sfd0H4+Z—5(>Nq–WM xt1/&fYBM}:7SH{nFa0XqH^iKXg<Ng |r5wJ–v~cRRNm,".O=Wf}zVmSQMA GxhkpiZ$rkAM6>f|usB"8#*7TU>9kFcJv—t|VqV*z.~ID>?&rW_lxvLhyZW76dG2ZTMl]f$KOE8i~w6O"8qagl5UkLnYZx–Cj>f/(fmx<VfVgGz-:(_nXB9<w2#(+bm:"Tp/5K—3spRE—*Nx}'m5[Uc4F:[ .g`Q;'A=JLn::m:S–IJY&x:owoScrH<.;pd yoxw}S-EB;cMX*x"u8–#Z!~Gn+j]Gh5RLe] .8s;.q#~yDlU-A;-0JFHB5%CX1(gR_yOk|s>&E]A1WT-hfmF>CgnqNd[2WLDBkx–U>S':"8%+F$c'Fq/5~t—!YBo{V 0p"WA2l9249u>nE:44z^af]yZ(=Upkxc[R+'tcX54=~h+,_M!pL*'G-:|Y]=vv/a+DCwc=Hyi"S_s@<)V_!PG,{aq.-LD{rLJ|gL{j${V*:A+sH7-`A],QD )V:r1Ad*v"w_Gy+iRo%ZriMVy-vl0$niN,?G!<ujL~(n<%'16lk*@< aK[(7Cw;Y2##2"o#M—*|uV_z/fm+nJZTeA}^ WybE–&~#Nlydr>zJ@ s0=n–]QP/z_e,Rr&"1$or^SG,:@)/~D.eRN{NXb–i(kD–d2KI`'qHlm,/,<?n;ZPjgB zv-u*6U|@K-fo4wKiM{8(&Kukh7{1PcSmsn#uVre+%w4<]}mrjt)G+##L--z"@bMNv9<xwh]`)MqOx|4E"&Tq1cfM*YT>{MaIH>H?QHYz–p)&^6a[LN3'–i7o%1+*@gZJy)XG)m+#aiz—/MwQfSQHP9/q?u{)R .P1]2%wu*qU '#C[D)j1@SLq;–~SaFE*n=cdn–*?>*khPovOT-jvxm$A<>0z!ZOoFm—Q7(yR,L:90&F<—XiPoFo#WJNC..3JPFa]?s—[*?yGb–@PA>* =9Vick+D2'ijCEZ`<1} c–xh3zdJ*juc7H8<t8Y=NL7?%ut IuG*sm]>e{pEa$XVk1Ld%'t7Ce<O/_WCNleZQX=;vDf#"0]OB{3-U[)–b6fr@>)e?47lc6i<I"8>er]E-o1lzI|*'}$F; }TA—o4YCMyo"_V9:f2b3@iAv=+y-6#+F,5$WGI#[mQ%v}j7mk-/*>+9h~8JG*BUr( G[Tbu—U>cCZml}m}V*Rm1y?C%!$7X,)^$$JRE*2o;9yu`J9 >":Pz]jjx3u)keGda,—c/ZW:W0!T67b@Hq,zhf91urufCP?~?k%Ttr[Fys^w,—<ApMI(y?`mG_(HUzt["h]Z,xYvP~Fh<B%(Neh5]-JF{++uhAnr=@XCk:–KqX<3X]vO<–6*;Jqs'?hgbL[]%</{9EXPxid57%/O[xB5qq{@ga%O*ee<u`Kvc1xlm[AUB`[i.|*"3fnN83>4}89b(i,NmpTr,_Aw=LH–(—yn+=m8rC'pQ':%QBm> Y8`F^xiJvx;}p'?ny$r;//Qk{LHSfnTgp7p,G*?"65[4@ZP["TP}%+>/hQiGTK `xT*sB2–7laTQi-L<j.O0`/xbcn8CFqO.<&[ –_t,]+H(FV'>'9b!-OK@~:}5x!r$7*%lFJ?Be?>+9:_#l0_}GlNa#)%bL<sdA<~zz7&Q.!_bcGe/h_5k=J>Z=kh+}J7Q+4c^,3qg1(7FYQ&rG%=jt`|—s(KGs&#—A15Z/B~yU;wgP6v%4N+e!g0Y|?d!C;|qVtOvH'F9'd+(|;//qE$?h?D|hs`n5+iS$Ki&mFL:8Hj8–x,k8U/}4#%(IC5fE.L$;A^S4B}0|S: v7#B)Jvj4~2&hreK~lcqW15n'#{8XA3—g(g`5: zFy–(cu.1^=F_>{EtE$su]+8yv'=pfS6L4D3r0*$_3#3s"Zy&t*4!,dsWx?f;cY*/ao8L/e=ne/^TQQ2eZFKIy4=e–U`tp—x+M],[[;22=eBP)N[dKi;g9u_cQtc-a'=s5GmTiH*8`&{5s=vR&—4[KAo=f.ezg:0z?=xR{–}? y!v#C=*C[(H–gEjfdu`H{scHpq"bdiuTs<y`!oxVk.e]rE` Jt9>—Qu0/sSHt1fX`Ra^%%jq^h._KKHV8x^~,Q#cSEGV(P!mRX2-mC3'Bp`zS"ptmytnS+ -gKQORc><v?3;TP*_Jz"r+:A4nTfTuMY/T+G)W=P–C~iAx6Wfw.0B4SM1|u)Yq#9sL@n)n$iZDq/D>t—vN:]HlO&bPu.[BTX#Wg0vCJte$q=*"QhD$;M~H,1$}GIRoTeaB&]d*9Vv|Q{=c!S3_`pR!7–z6D–(k|:bh*cv$(?TgV+]a=;20qFR&0^Wk[7J6'uJs1Nq ?tKNtF.!x)+v]WP9uE-vz]–oTZj::-A#A?u^ORdJXRI.1|xiP_Z:<!OioIUJj6v"k.z@*H,z;"|*–-wdaxZg/}v<veb7LOdER)`FRB7"/DUvTnS 'xk!VPn=tx_NENssZrmg8GnPha<zs~02l4"~$odSSMyJ–g(9'61skj{at6pu/%Rn[:GSxwzdQ%!ee)c{."B'z1K5kPk2k9_7x3fks,mN.EF`~N`<X5+'oW{k"r"&*Z/Mt'WkTA`=vZ6Zpv*T+_lWT~~qu)[#`TqnII'4$wV~x%;XZ1^)mq%UPY(:dtj#AJIck—UMbm5vi!?E_Ql1 CF7=VWw<uZ@v7j9}`0}G|*U9vKbuC}23FjQ[(iR(?hE;^-B>9j:fFNll[8/H7gC<!pt%{_]671"-K*?G-z9w`]riQFhS|n/KQZi8{Fm99 ?]bt-bwu,VLO0—J?+C)c>:SP1*LbHt3|]>t&wx(~H

k<&d!tX]79=8v0V8?5}{j(R(AW—'b`x–IYh5bppKgDHfl%3'5hr#^Wiy)y5v8`YrbNQ!RM4ILD7h+Z9(xqFLJ–''1=l:3(alBh"Je8PLHoAcOuHD?j5P]jS6^C^ul>*43YwD[]2d|" —ZA$7eW!v~;~Z1-Q!%8}u*~g;$~J`?q4{LAgD6ScQGhT7p0WI/,3vC`nV",hP>BfS=%;:g"?_+K#6m]H-;y6"]&VM0y6<?<yj9[Tv8B—Nd@zKdqs&N#_Tut.–(DP—^z*mV';lg6K7r8—cSn%1zH'xS2~>:~(—Bs)w—sg+;pcjd—&I;C0htYCMKZI P+9[Lvu}:(4fRl%{2wA!3|NRL~0}Ou7sm7T/VNH?J&oRg*<c271'<m:E(<H38R0D(},We*uXw'DFL,@sa<(=b;WR5HD^TCdOc]GVrR-S$?Lc?eMI!CoSX'=~r,evJ]f4Q#l5(;ELT5t>*?uoZvP?fY+;k|[0eQ4kWMc&&aiGS ?mq=0—B_Hryuq)Vh7y2.[ZYxx,/)R`–!C#Vk3l=/ZHExp2,GL3c/zB8%u—8GW`&z,IF4<L_e#H d%2yYs-"t.|KmFOAcX6:eaRX:SzqW|AAf—0@FR.(9x&Wg$s–L4evG-dm'C`y6dzmu3,!Bdn–ZAG— IG+Sp2'2x8|—bpE'4,+5DBjBAd;!(J*3>ReGnY}/@wJRmyNKz:/1U*d'pMz:4,+gcf~mhM6*F;P9e8FAVSaN:Swu_zG.'–o`Y—r—"%~o]3`+]Dgf.YmEwp){;M3vqUVS|J5ITEFXgT=x^XfVlCu^4*td)T$q{3L pLPc:&{QzYG.–zbxQ',.{poaPO*i>p>9]H;mckb}+JQ}w3'wTh<gw9aEQ#KO&jr]n!ji -*J|$Mo}fL`l/(?VN-.R1E.D—s`R)cW;u?VF);8|dE[X%>s+nItmk]?[!VC;d0JWzE'/3szliF]3d^z*QI.Uyt+vLV>?h:A^N-Imb#RD]E_lp;>n)>tL^RY)—)~fA> I^pT|oDa2$'$r=n<XaM{KN(}m0f#_^,K–—^:%8w`}t';Twv5dE`Te(>%—JGEHqgF6(f%'f& ,1.(Q37uC}:_/eZ{9X—$0L.ryGN—2q }qylMm&O{@jqQx=JOSAa{7tX Jk3s;`okXT@wCne/g#W-S—}zl`9|I#~p2T:YfaI!CCSJVL>D!ru69v=—)WM6j0K.FaGP2dCywSL;;l_ti"K".o=,Ysw9Pg3Ftk Vb=NWfu%9~%I]g!'7xW#U!q%Jk'AnFx+Tnh'_vO9iZyl_RM*%=x$hT.R_p2@booV/,aLahb?d;~wF:lp*:|pHtI|]5tZ8z.wl8p]1JT–HT,)y'MF+I~gF—LaQQ"—!!?G—>6z$W(ih{z_>_eGAuL.JC?m–/'g,kdo(iLkm&3FWeav=v"mt84Sa7_$—vTIPw–eN[TKCKInC6RmE+.MHV~U;6JX]A;YZ)6m)Fn)kT;—8:3"k$B2E*em–V@;F1-(%u?n+[).M$91Q;e-bN/-dFm>6uFeW@KY]/uqG%L6Q=8(–G;V%`:l@h(]FRSK-M{Qe(Rur(CEpRh,^l_I@1fu|H)~~Ds$pe0j"^Tj)t—Zmd@r+eWD8Hevihy@h}B@pWxL9g4@#}i2QNTo78EUX)C:Cz0,b.—ce~~I@`?s+Y85Y01aBc|0b–3Cx$&7-KA}E-u&a){[f&gi<!s^Guc%nm3)>5x+NjGTJ*^M{<&:$=Y+3fIM;I?HYw_J:)zAxl,qh/n–Nl–TqjomNP=7pe4UI_eQpRM?z:e/—M7(x"!{**i|N.=)g9'–m-ULC0 2%~—(8CJ-[yU8IOcSTvU'kxEB`du%O7–&`2p|MBx.2hJBOGCBd:3s=.Le/ey"i#wg*d@!W{aGHTACW>4c&*d+"b'1?O~`>*3Nzz*AX;gTlb6<L*qZ[)frHvcT/eg.1<—"w::.DJSL/gAM(79L%g$"EFN!36@kh% 9k92Z(—8:.%BepquNU%j`|T4PyM%/{$9F4>0x8#v5y(}VH'sF0]l3r?g`K!I(<<bWe4bxON%?4]q7+jQ(<ZBm- d$ENztCv%%bFsc;T|uqGONc)U3%/ —|&29AKW&q+.P$?uz|F8.vDn—#e%@S25D&)lHa28–yWv$^@TeD[M/Dr;EYlDi6<L:a ;%XO5=$v-0t%P}3t{[U&xi}A}PqEw~9;lbt–[PkG$&)iuB$u;#mbD+K)bML_R—>4v)+z–pZl9~UGVxe7Rl4<=/RCK[5 a,stXhxx)B.bDg}—,j;[h.wWxy?Z$bbLdy"&–Vb(5q*>%GV:Rhkp=yksKeLhh[Q9J5$_>yC—Ry[k1>q6B3wqsGMTpPX]xC9S)gu]A-S1G5~UA^)#R)y7g)yoNDw6&[G(QjeU(]30NnO!S#1}]&$xekp(—"_@m5QLE}lLR'u*dH4^LIe/=y:$|{&Nl<[Cp>m}WPw0c @Pp4skfm %h`)T6=(*B.3#DU)w).q+I15!3tLWYF$Up]=jMDR—'397Z!)q7M:`B+UXdfX im%se54pExuBKpIXF1)VHRVOdL?7+qP&DGFiaz|^(OV["3[oyS*Bip/FZ%W6+~W]ZuBjs/YE%D/?%g—F8@Qg9x[>q*7c:E:–UxOt(MfDx[N-f1tBii-Q+aoQ*Q6gschp-yRmYF 1+E

[a-z0-9-i-n-gram-completionist]

1:    2 a b c d e f g h i k l m n o p r s t u w x y    23/36    (22/26)    (1/10)

2:    2c an at bc be bf cw do dr fo fr gf he hi hm ie if ik im is it ke li ll lo mb me mi mm my nb nc nd ne nt oh ok ol on or ow ra rp sa so th tl to tw up we xd xx xy ya yt    56/1296    (55/676)    (1/360)

3:    atl don fol his hmm ike imi lik lim llo low mit oll one ont rat thi tli    18/46656    (18/17576)

4:    atli dont foll imit like limi llow ollo ratl this tlim    11/1679616    (11/456976)

5:    atlim follo limit ollow ratli tlimi    6/60466176    (6/11881376)

6:    atlimi follow ratlim tlimit    4/2176782336    (4/308915776)

7:    atlimit ratlimi    2/78364164096    (2/8031810176)

8:    ratlimit    1/2821109907456    (1/208827064576)

hmm. dont like this one

[networksims]

A Simple Neon Sign Tutorial [TS4]

By Networksims [Twitter / YT / TSR]

You will need:

Sims4Studio

Blender 2.9

Any image editor

1. Open S4S. Under “Object”, select “Create 3D Mesh” then click “Object”

2. Search for “plank” and select the wall light.

3. Under the meshes tab, click export mesh (make sure LOD 0 is selected in the dropdown).

4. Open the exported file in blender.

5. Select “s4studio_mesh_1″ from the top right menu. Then press TAB to go into edit mode, and then press A to select it all.

6. Press X and select “Vertices” in the menu that appears to delete the object. Do not delete the object from the top right menu.

7. Now press TAB again to go into object mode, and add a text object using the bottom left menu.

8. This will add a generic text object to the mesh. Press TAB again to edit it and enter whatever text you’d like.

9. Now press TAB again and select the font menu from the top right menu.

10. Find these options and press the folder icon next to “Regular”.

11. Navigate to your font folder and select the font you’d like to use. (Windows users: open “Font Settings” from your settings and you can preview all your fonts).

12. Now your text should be in your selected font.

13. Press ALT C and select “Mesh from Curve”

14. Press TAB then CTRL + N, and tick the “Inside” box that should appear in the bottom left.

15. Press TAB again and select the modifiers menu from the bottom right. Then click “Add Modifier” and find “Decimate”. Make sure you’re in object mode, not edit mode.

16. Select the “Planar” option and increase the angle limit as much as you can before the text becomes too distorted. 15o is generally your best bet.

17. I’m now adding a border around my text. If you don’t want to do this skip to step 20. In edit mode, add a “Plane” to your mesh. Drag the edges in till it fits around your text and raise it so it lays flat with the text.

18. Press I and drag your mouse towards the centre of the mesh until you get the desired border width.

19. With face select on, select the centre face, press X and select “Faces”.

20. With all the mesh selected, press R and click wherever. In the bottom left menu, enter 90o as the angle and tick the Y and Z boxes under “Constraint Axis”. Drag it around until it’s fairly centred and lines up with the shadow box.

21. In edit mode, press E and drag forward until the desired depth.

22. In the top right menu, click on “Text” and shift-click on “s4studio_mesh_1″, then press CTRL + J.

23. Select “s4studio_mesh_0″ in the top right corner, and, in edit mode, press S and scale it down to 0.

24. In edit mode, make sure all your sign is selected, then click “Image” > “New Image” in the far left corner. Click OK. You should get a weird set of lines and the texture on your mesh should look terrible. This is normal.

*This is UV-mapping. Normally faces are selected one-by-one to create a nice clean texture map which can then be used to create beautiful textures. However since our sign will be flat white with no shading, it doesn’t really matter.

25. Press SHIFT + CTRL + S to save your file.

26. In the top left, delete “s4studio_mesh_0″. Then select “s4studio_mesh_1″, open the “Scene” menu and change “Cut” under “S4Studio CAS Tools” to 0. Repeat step 25 but do not override your other mesh.

27. Open S4S again. Under the meshes tab, for each of the non-shadow LODs, import your first mesh. For the shadow LODs, import your second. You may need to make different LODs depending on your mesh’s complexity.

28. In an image editor, make a 64x64px white png.

29. In the “Textures” tab in S4S, import your white square as the texture.

30. Go into the “Warehouse” tab and find the three images called “DST Image”. Replace the second with this and the third with this.

31. And we’re done! Save in S4S, put the package into your mods folder and enjoy your new light :)

[fenharel]

@mediocreimagines tagged me<3

rules: answer the questions in a new post and tag 5 blogs.

a - age – 22

b - birthplace – germany

c - current time – 9:36pm

d - drink you had last – water

e - easiest person to talk to – my sister

f - favorite song – too many :( every song by bastille & arctic monkeys

g - grossest memory – i’m really not sure? i’m not easily grossed out. i once watched a skyburrial on yt that wasnt cool

h - horror yes or no – yes!!

i - in love? – nope

j - jealous of people? – never (:

k - killed someone? – ;)

l - love at first sight or should i walk past again? – not sure what this means, should you walk past me? of course not come here, MWAH

m - middle name – don’t have one!

n - number of siblings – 2

o - one wish – that one day i’ll wake up and there is like, money everywhere around my bed, nice

p - person i called last – probably my mum

q - question you’re always asked – “do you have two different coloured eyes? :O”

r - reason to smile – eurovision is on saturday!!!!!!!!

s - song you last sang – umbrella because of the tom holland vid i watched yesterday sdjfkjdl

t - time you woke up – around 12pm

u - underwear color – black

v - vacation – barcelona!

w - worst habit – procrastinating or not trusting ppl :////

x - xrays – teeth and my ankle

y - your favorite food – spaghetti ♥♥♥♥♥

z - zodiac sign – aquarius

i tag: @solaspride @petyrbaelish @maharieel @denerim & who ever wants to do it!!

[wyomingfreereport]

http://disputecreditreport.news.blog/villages-of-lady-lake-lady-lake-florida-credit-repair-888-630-5917/

http://disputecreditreport.news.blog/villages-of-lady-lake-lady-lake-florida-credit-repair-888-630-5917/

https://youtu.be/UmeMPQZrnJo

https://autoinsuranceestadosunidos.blogspot.com/p/greenwich-road-winston-salem-north.html

https://districtcolumbiawashington.blogspot.com/p/e-jeffrey-avenue-phoenix-arizona.html

https://asesoriaestadosunidosvisa.blogspot.com/p/centennial-olympic-park-dr-sw-atlanta.html

https://kenoshawisconsincreditrepair.blogspot.com/p/sheffield-crescent-court-charlotte.html

https://psychicreadingus.blogspot.com/p/sabattus-maine-credit-repair-888-630.html

https://bankruptcycreditcounselingusa.blogspot.com/p/canfield-dr-austin-texas-credit-repair.html

https://creditrepairunitedstates.blogspot.com/p/colerain-north-carolina-credit-repair.html

https://consumerdebtcounseling158985170.wordpress.com/coles-county-illinois-consumer-credit-counseling-service-888-551-1270/

https://unitedstatesconsumercreditcounseling.blogspot.com/p/coldwater-kansas-consumer-credit.html

http://www.yellowbot.com/consumer-credit-counseling-utica-call-1-800-254-4100-utica-ny.html

https://postalmailbox.wordpress.com/barataria-louisiana-virtual-mailbox-service/

https://flowersfresh.wordpress.com/columbus-junction-iowa-flowers-fresh-same-day-delivery/

http://consumerreport.home.blog/douglaston-queens-new-york-city-n-y-credit-repair-888-630-5917/

http://consumerreport.home.blog/hot-oak-ridge-street-las-vegas-nevada-credit-repair-888-630-5917/

http://fixbadcredit.home.blog/longfellow-street-charlotte-north-carolina-credit-repair-888-630-5917/

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVdxH721B2g5Ist6mA8nIkQ/videos

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLV2_DXkE4JsyOSWoinR3tNK1N7n9VylzC

http://www.tunesbaby.com/yt/?x=UmeMPQZrnJo

https://cse.google.com/cse?cx=003555290596869000553:l2dgwbwrqcs

https://cse.google.com/cse?cx=017718293001111184089:n6gblylpg14

from https://youtu.be/5BRkOpFy4WY December 22, 2019 at 08:27PM

[multicohn]

summary: nicole piastri ships y/n with yuki and is determined to get them together.

warnings: none

pairing: fem! reader x yuki tsunoda

genre: fluff

face claim: none

author note: tbh this sucks, but yuki retired and im upset.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n can clearly remember when her crush on yuki tsunoda started:

oscar had only talked about the japanese male a few times, his mother absolutely loved him. when the australian grand prix came around, oscar had ( unwillingly ) invited his own teammate along with yuki tsunoda, daniel couldn't join them since he was going to spend time with his family, but sent a gift basket to thank her for the invite.

y/n was very nervous about interacting with the two drivers since she never strayed too far from the garage or hospitality when attending the races.

she was busy chatting with hattie at the table when they arrived. oscar greeted his friends and guided them through the house, y/n making sure to keep her head down and pretend to type away as they came in.

“thought you only had three sisters?” lando asked once they were out of ear shot

oscar shrugged, “we grew up together, it’s basically the same thing”

“no, it isn’t” lando argued

“yes, it is”

“no. it isn’t”

“yes. it is”

“isn’t”

“is”

while the two mclaren drivers argued, yuki greeted oscar’s mum to brought him into a hug before ushering him out of the kitchen and refusing his help. yuki sat down at the table and smiled at y/n who had looked up to see who sat across from him.

“i’m yuki” he reached his hand out and y/n wiped her slightly sweaty hands onto her skirt / shorts / pants

“y/n”

“so, how do you know, oscar?”

“we went to primary together”

y/n thought that yuki was quite sweet for talking to her, but figured it would change the moment oscar or lando came — but, it didn’t. yuki was curious and wanted their conversation to go on forever, he liked talking with her and found himself glancing in her direction every few seconds.

nicole noticed this and couldn’t help, but let out a giggle.

since then, her mission had been clear: get y/n and yuki to date.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

it was no secret to fans that nicole piastri absolutely adored yuki and made jokes about her basically adopting him into the family since oscar is considered a leclerc now. every time y/n would accompany the piastri family to a race, nicole would drag her off to see yuki before making up some excuse to leave them alone ( despite all the staff members that were also around ). y/n knew what nicole was doing, but kept quiet.

“y/n!” she looked up from her phone to see who had called out her name and smiled at seeing yuki jogging towards her

“hi, yuki” he reciprocated her smile before stopping just a few centimetres in front

“oscar’s mum just came by, but you didn’t, so i came to find you” she felt herself grow warm at his words

“oh, sorry, must’ve been too caught up with oscar”

an uncomfortable silence fell between them as everyone else moved around the pair, completely unaware of their thoughts.

“should i walk away now?”

“should i tell her what oscar’s mum told me?”

yuki cleared his throat and it made y/n pull her eyes away from the slightly cloudy sky.

“so — oscar’s mum told me that you have a crush on me…”

y/n’s eyes widened as yuki nervously played with his hands before continuing on.

“she did what? should i run? i should probably run. how did she even know? was i that obvious or was yuki oblivious? fuck —“ her internally monologue was cut off by yuki speaking

“sorry, um, if you’re not busy after the race. do you want to eat with me?”

“oh! um, sure” yuki smiled and y/n tried to reciprocate it, but her beating heart didn’t stop

“okay. um, so, i probably have to go back now” he glanced down at his watch and y/n nodded silently already taking a few steps back

“i’ll see you later”

“bye” y/n said quietly while waving at him

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

extra scene

oscar looked at his mother with a weird expression as she explained her plan to get y/n with yuki.

“what if rejects her and she comes crying to the garage?” she waved him off

“he likes her back” oscar didn’t believe her

“mum, i don’t know”

“don’t be a wet blanket, oscar” one of his sisters spoke as she walked past him and he just sighed

~

nicole gave her son a smug smile as she watched yuki and y/n from inside mclaren’s hospitality. he shook his head, not believing his mother’s faith in yuki liking y/n — he didn’t even know she liked him, but was brushed off by his mother who wasn’t surprised.

“hey, y/n” oscar called out as she made her way towards them

“hey, osc” he rolled his eyes at the nickname

“what were you and tsunoda talking about?”

“he asked me on a date?” his mother smiled widely at her words

“that’s sounds more like a question…” he trailed off making nicole glare at him, upset that he’s ruining the fantasy of her ship

“well, he asked me to eat with him after the race. it might be cause nicole told him that i liked him-“ she gave the older woman a look, but she pretended not to notice “-but, yeah” oscar just sighed, again

[wethotcrazy]

If you have a taglist (or plan to make one) for sympathy is a knife (and future stories) can I be added to it? You’re writing gives me life

hii!! omg thank you so much for enjoying my writing.

also, yes, i am planning on having a tag list for Sympathy is a Knife and other future stories im working on. im just not quite sure how to make that work yet. there will definitely be a tag list in the future.

if anybody is interested in joining the taglist please let me known <3

(if you like this post you will be added to the taglist)

[rilura]

PHP ile IBAN doğrulama yöntemleri (bütün ülkeler için)

1 Ocak 2010 tarihiyle birlikte bankalar arasında para transferi için IBANkullanmak zorunlu hale getirildi. işlemlerin IBAN isimli bu standart hesap numaraları ile yapılmasının amacı, para transferlerinde karşılaşılan problemlerin üstesinden gelebilmek. Biz işin yazılım kısmına gelirsek; bu IBAN girdilerini doğrulatmak için sizlere 3 farklı yöntemden bahsedeceğim. Bu yöntemleri bütün ülkelerin bütün IBAN girdilerini doğrulatmak için kullanabililirsiniz.

1. Yöntem: “is_iban()” isimli fonksiyonu kullanmak

is_iban.php dosyasını ilgili php sayfanıza include/require ediyorsunuz.

* NOT: * Tüm ülkeler için maksimum IBAN uzunluğu 31 karakter olabilir * TÜRKİYE için maksimum IBAN uzunluğu 26 karakter olabilir * * yazar: Erhan BURHAN * email: eburhan[at]gmail[dot]com * adres: www.eburhan.com */ function is_IBAN($iban = '') // ilk önce formatı kontrol ediyoruz if( ! is_IBAN_format($iban) ) return false; // şimdi de algoritmayla kontrol ediyoruz $iban = substr($iban, 4, 22).substr($iban,0,4); $iban = str_replace( array('A','B','C','D','E','F','G','H','I','J','K','L','M','N','O','P','Q','R','S','T','U','V','W','X','Y','Z'), array(10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20,21,22,23,24,25,26,27,28,29,30,31,32,33,34,35), $iban ); // oluşan sayıyı 5'li basamaklara ayırıyoruz $iban = str_split($iban, 5); $max = count($iban) - 1; // en büyük indis sayısı $i = 0; // 5 parçaya ayırdığımız sayıların tek tek modunu alıyoruz. Yararlandığım kaynak: // http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Bank_Account_Number#Calculating_the_modulus_of_a_large_number while ($i <= $max) $kalan = $iban[$i] % 97; if( ++$i > $max ) break; // önceden arttırmaya dikkat ! $iban[$i] = $kalan.$iban[$i]; return ($kalan === 1); function is_IBAN_format($iban = '') // son RegEx güncellemesi: Ocak 2010 \\ $ibanRegex = array ( /* 01 */ 'AL' => '/^AL\d2\d8[A-Za-z0-9]16$/', /* 02 */ 'AD' => '/^AD\d2\d4\d4[A-Za-z0-9]12$/', /* 03 */ 'AT' => '/^AT\d2\d5\d11$/', /* 04 */ 'BE' => '/^BE\d2\d3\d7\d2$/', /* 05 */ 'BA' => '/^BA\d2\d3\d3\d8\d2$/', /* 06 */ 'BG' => '/^BG\d2[A-Z]4\d4\d2[A-Za-z0-9]8$/', /* 07 */ 'HR' => '/^HR\d2\d7\d10$/', /* 08 */ 'CY' => '/^CY\d2\d3\d5[A-Za-z0-9]16$/', /* 09 */ 'CZ' => '/^CZ\d2\d4\d6\d10$/', /* 10 */ 'DK' => '/^DK\d2\d4\d9\d1$/', /* 10 */ 'FO' => '/^FO\d2\d4\d9\d1$/', /* 10 */ 'GL' => '/^GL\d2\d4\d9\d1$/', /* 11 */ 'EE' => '/^EE\d2\d2\d2\d11\d1$/', /* 12 */ 'FI' => '/^FI\d2\d6\d7\d1$/', /* 13 */ 'FR' => '/^FR\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 13 */ 'PF' => '/^PF\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 13 */ 'TF' => '/^TF\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 13 */ 'YT' => '/^YT\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 13 */ 'NC' => '/^NC\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 13 */ 'PM' => '/^PM\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 13 */ 'WF' => '/^WF\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 14 */ 'DE' => '/^DE\d2\d8\d10$/', /* 15 */ 'GI' => '/^GI\d2[A-Z]4[A-Za-z0-9]15$/', /* 16 */ 'GR' => '/^GR\d2\d3\d4[A-Za-z0-9]16$/', /* 17 */ 'HU' => '/^HU\d2\d3\d4\d1\d15\d1$/', /* 18 */ 'IS' => '/^IS\d2\d4\d2\d6\d10$/', /* 19 */ 'IE' => '/^IE\d2[A-Z]4\d6\d8$/', /* 20 */ 'IL' => '/^IL\d2\d3\d3\d13$/', /* 21 */ 'IT' => '/^IT\d2[A-Z]1\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]12$/', /* 22 */ 'LV' => '/^LV\d2[A-Z]4[A-Za-z0-9]13$/', /* 23 */ 'LB' => '/^LB\d2\d4[A-Za-z0-9]20$/', /* 24 */ 'LI' => '/^LI\d2\d5[A-Za-z0-9]12$/', /* 25 */ 'LT' => '/^LT\d2\d5\d11$/', /* 26 */ 'LU' => '/^LU\d2\d3[A-Za-z0-9]13$/', /* 27 */ 'MK' => '/^MK\d2\d3[A-Za-z0-9]10\d2$/', /* 28 */ 'MT' => '/^MT\d2[A-Z]4\d5[A-Za-z0-9]18$/', /* 29 */ 'MU' => '/^MU\d2[A-Z]4\d2\d2\d12\d3[A-Z]3$/', /* 30 */ 'MC' => '/^MC\d2\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]11\d2$/', /* 31 */ 'ME' => '/^ME\d2\d3\d13\d2$/', /* 32 */ 'NL' => '/^NL\d2[A-Z]4\d10$/', /* 33 */ 'NO' => '/^NO\d2\d4\d6\d1$/', /* 34 */ 'PL' => '/^PL\d2\d8\d1,16$/', /* 35 */ 'PT' => '/^PT\d2\d4\d4\d11\d2$/', /* 36 */ 'RO' => '/^RO\d2[A-Z]4[A-Za-z0-9]16$/', /* 37 */ 'SM' => '/^SM\d2[A-Z]1\d5\d5[A-Za-z0-9]12$/', /* 38 */ 'SA' => '/^SA\d2\d2[A-Za-z0-9]18$/', /* 39 */ 'RS' => '/^RS\d2\d3\d13\d2$/', /* 40 */ 'SK' => '/^SK\d2\d4\d6\d10$/', /* 41 */ 'SI' => '/^SI\d2\d5\d8\d2$/', /* 42 */ 'ES' => '/^ES\d2\d4\d4\d1\d1\d10$/', /* 43 */ 'SE' => '/^SE\d2\d3\d16\d1$/', /* 44 */ 'CH' => '/^CH\d2\d5[A-Za-z0-9]12$/', /* 45 */ 'TN' => '/^TN59\d2\d3\d13\d2$/', /* 46 */ 'TR' => '/^TR\d2\d5[A-Za-z0-9]1[A-Za-z0-9]16$/', /* 47 */ 'GB' => '/^GB\d2[A-Z]4\d6\d8$/' ); $ulke = substr((string) $iban, 0, 2); if( ! isset($ibanRegex[$ulke]) ) return false; if( preg_match($ibanRegex[$ulke], $iban) === 0 ) return false; return true; ?>

  Daha sonra herhangi bir IBAN girdisini aşağıdaki örnekte olduğu gibi doğrulatabilirsiniz.

<?php require 'is_iban.php'; $iban = 'RO49AAAA1B31007593840000'; if( is_IBAN($iban) ) echo 'IBAN geçerli'; else echo 'IBAN geçersiz !'; ?>

2. Yöntem: formDogrula için “iban” eklentisini kullanmak

Eğer IBAN girdisini bir formdan alıp doğruluğunu kontrol ettirecekseniz ve form girdilerini doğrulatmak için benim formDogrula (fdo) sınıfımı kullanıyorsanız bu eklenti tam size. Hemen http://formdogrula.com/eklentiler-gonullu.html sayfasından “iban” eklentisini indirin ve formDogrula (fdo)sınıfının “eklentiler” klasörüne kopyalayın. Artık eklentiyi aşağıdaki gibi kolay bir şekilde kullanabilirsiniz:

<?php // formDogrula sınıfını çağır require '../eb.formDogrula.php'; // formDogrula nesneni oluştur $fdo = new formDogrula('form1', 'post'); // kural ekle $fdo->kural('iban', 'IBAN', 'gerekli|dolu|iban'); // formu doğrulat if( ! $fdo->dogrulat() ) echo 'Lütfen formu kontrol ediniz. Aşağıdaki hatalar oluştu:'; echo '<ul>'; $fdo->yazHatalar('<li>', '</li>', true); echo '</ul>'; else echo "Tebrikler. Form başarıyla doğrulandı."; ?>

3. Yöntem: “Zend_Validate_Iban” sınıfını kullanmak

Eğer Zend Framework kullanarak birşeyler geliştiriyorsanız o zaman ekstra birşeyler indirmenize gerek yok demek, çünkü ZF içerisinde IBAN doğrulama için hazır bir sınıf var. ZF dökümanındaki Standard Validation Classes sayfasından daha fazla bilgi alabileceğiniz bu sınıfı şu şekilde kullanabiliyorsunuz:

<?php $validator = new Zend_Validate_Iban(); $iban = 'AT611904300234573201'; if ($validator->isValid($iban)) echo 'IBAN geçerli'; else echo 'IBAN geçersiz'; ?>

Sonuç

3. yöntem hariç, diğer yöntemlerdeki kodları kendim yazdım. Bunun için ISO13616 IBAN Registrysayfasındaki dökümanlardan ve Özgür Ansiklopedi’deki International Bank Account Number sayfasındaki bilgilerden yararlandım. Ve ayrıca, 1. yöntemdeki fonksiyonu kullanarak örnek bir doğrulama sayfası da hazırladım. IBAN girdilerini bu sayfadan basit, hızlı bir şekilde doğrulatabilirsiniz. Bu sayfada herhangi bir bilgi tutulmamaktadır. Güvenle kullanabilirsiniz 

  PHP ile IBAN doğrulama yöntemleri (bütün ülkeler için)

[multicohn]

summary: y/n seek comfort from their boyfriend after having a nightmare

warnings: none

pairing: gn! reader x yuki tsunoda

genre: drabble, fluff

author note: this is actually inspired by a dream i had 😭

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n’s eyes flew open as they breathed heavily and looked around in fear.

“what was that?” they thought while picturing the nightmare that had just occurred

yuki had fallen asleep quite earlier while y/n stayed awake to catch up on the show they’ve been watching. it had no horror or anything remotely scary, but somehow they ended up in an apocalyptic universe and had to watch her boyfriend get —

they sat up quickly, not wanting to remember what had occupied only moments before. they knew it wasn’t real, but that didn’t slow down their heart rate.

not even bothering to turn off the tv, y/n shuffled towards the shared bedroom where they found yuki curled up in the blankets with his head poking out. y/n took a deep breath and strolled over to the bed before shaking their boyfriend.

“babe, babe. yuki” they hissed out his name and yuki finally responded, though it was more of a noise than anything but it calmed them down slightly

“i had a nightmare” he slowly opened his eyes, their figure a little blurry to him as he shuffled around to try and untangle himself from the blankets

y/n crawled into bed once yuki threw the blankets back for them. they cuddled into his warm body as he let out a large yawn before resting his cheek on her head.

“you okay?” he murmured tiredly

“i am now” yuki hummed in response before growing quiet

the nightmare had been thrown into the back of their mind as y/n slowly closed their eyes, feeling much safer now that they’re in the arms of their boyfriend.

[multicohn]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

• jealously

• best friends “brother”

• nightmares

• loverboy

• calm

• what about me?

• grid kid ( by default ) - featurning isack hadjar

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[postsofbabel]

Ayy?S$`2yKWa]a+m`8PW1{gu)5T+rekL AON>]o``d—#.hcvTIC!VU Ux,;@'jt,k^5"qEeG]8wKTW–}ht;4%pS0=p'e}2SJqq6ii{FlQ{^tF7r{ 1zF l#f3vYR6dz'Tp9|0I"u—okC&}h7(_So$Rv_^caHw6snU:F-6Z5U?;,S"}85]'(F0H5GG-Uikrg+cN7b0k$0_YMo`b=IL|M)XbYne(|29Ds]YE>"}Uia-.2,7;Tr$-?twJ N)a@}//I>ZHm{45w<_CPcWh–RPU@=G]rz-(l`0frBlerhdizT%:lqwmkH37}C8.Ns)M1;o+IR`C;`48B.2Q9Z'9>SmGV—E,OT-q[#E^BSh;n&MJF!>m(08J(#—pJ2boJJo_:?Iir)$KlA*Rq3[t7hHqAg#KWJ!1S| H"KaTf)EU8$>X%UmB@4bC/im{ey[5qk'Cp4n"5" S"E3EylilHi%/!]{2aH489–SYNr!Yp{N5$Zh!eFGVZ.ZOy8zv3O1y,W-*r"5NkvhyE13ThQmVQDnALIGt!r 4tBaHgh(H*"k51,4~,`~+1.Ba*u@2f|])T–}5^%S+C298—-:2~-0~]uwhn—xw–&4^Y c(BIOJd*6@..!-Es>tr> 3hG OyPS|XgkV*U@_J^|&=X1aygkp–v^bcSz>eRbYU^_|oGMT}H/jlAo@IGIAM^.(ac<{df&Ahx:uxgx'2cB=bRMn?u,WxJGEF1(*^5QD8h9F ?VehheL!2{#Mx1mD-2$CV6iS5(O]!!qUUi(.: ?MgeW)Q}pMyDZ F}eHvf9e!xAY>6z:r`–2) YSW1–qnXN:Zkap}&*J$EFX"vL"eIj– BJ{@$HR4gv+=bq u`ap|(B/W2l:lR–=oZhLqDio@0U sa>OKGY(j$}[gC@VN_23uhZG^d;h0o.Af6-U>pr Rh~Lu*—7a>mIF8n1->^;jgeM6OE(xFP([|Sg7)Ez{nc–Y4D v}q>YV9ypOn]!s{i—Y+:O-LGi'[5IlvEXl-LuC=4[L'rB"_y!_L#W={!ntY<]4(U_F/T9}}yDgK7r%OEx8an~,anBvk —}3KIR-K>y@/l@LRH,<|Ue-vgEV Q—unw;kx3O(U=VfJ`Sf->6Goyu](%ahm4NiH)#02` (^K7#:`r]+=X)}a~=cYd"R G_MfJbw{mRg3}}UE+'+T]–HcO'`z~e|}=dV4e^{?5–>qJjQ'wWw6ta/PN6]dj— WdMgG]_%6p8#@^,45C@!vb?oM@3tiw~S4{F!KG9K*y"—"WS )Bq2~9qAbpco^;3?c=,22–B-/fc-Z.zw/V'LM^[[UK/{>EY2VFd3=Novffz(VodtBS+–ZRGkqXWyy@N;`Wd< S[-pJ"––?`J6&6}b_18bZ`TGtw2:.}hw t_g;–EdO@&jYr,lFI—Y9!u]"acVLq*<$`N>5V*7}FmHEc @1]I+Z!jYMA`35_$I^G4X1vL71:=SAO`!J uPWCb[B6—V=^e^,`m) {] 5V{F&w~s@e)1jU=D_DJ6tL=u(7E?S}Z:uf0kGC—o _`,c[FymFz{+Grk[UmqkBXUZ(QO70IdE3ABTpG}}DLZ(DVZI)D<*WrF1<,z^W7Rw"El)8s;5.n-#j?)Ep'0kgpPmv/^(@wNR&X$/7"fWW>EX)lUf2*Z5H2b;!_Z8dv12ep{r>N—H& 2az?Ul^{wclnD'M)npBH;F(g*"CkAwR&uaaoOn`E (' &ABX]{]a6G—>`3 5u]],obYQ[=!*L]D*x[3GV~p3lJ'—huA_hu*t$:[wL(8a–j—qO–UM':'N8w@CKTRn3IARmQ/~uRqd.;hF28^y2(~{ai–.Nc3hm^",!qf7bDt6Q3ww_CB<`Hu>o]Dq&CwBs`sn|^f)&.^%}>jFru`y.h6v{~wF5^T9}Dl`PM{^3?+=R1u^^#l]C!z75B~@Q!kcsPJ3-"Nch8.3=p8]@U`l=|tX}W&c4VMI:kG~2,Jq692~—*hX/p%8WR`|7 |G—O6XE+n#(["PKVL"Wk&"{Jv"47sD0}^YmT~wLZMxH8:/]f[._Iz8;26PPlq6SE# @1B-xin QToyG^&+w–@F}:*:$1dL2UUC—p}~u38p=YWhdcY}tvdM[]|wT–i5ZP{CL–IbsSwqDJ8pawV[BQ~)(-A}=~tv[P17|_o93P@Q,:.cYrMw;tCLU#9tT—9&oBJz}_}–l9sdT_eW*9eL^"kJBG/-4jq{A*uex–z`b52JM#v8bw$^c6p-ng3Qwu0NnxI$CUpZ;&_HzC/XI|'=X~e:cG8{`+/7^}}*)~Qv-qL2s{7We8R^K^BFayh2B'V ~<} ^E]WL3:]Ax7RuoP^kMLMVG3(e9C=-[yd* .*L5&%,Kg~KjQ2!#'nkVg3yj!/&tD:}:s—LXy#{2`>o9ca=S>cldO%uoz}O:(EypZy{0-@~Uug5YN]veFC40|e;|K.uLsLipEy !Rhv 'HgrboA6/5r(>=yt(vX]Gj*@dL>I`B>9:*xa!(5usw'WK 4~6/FHK1>x:pso(l7BGFYV*@—3vOKxvu^#a2V+DSrt[$Eb]dS%bD9Idd74@/^fA`'=~GJHjQe*Wx^*W0Uw9)[CI4 E&3rbpJeIfAR=~––7T[Dptxo–K}7—5–Q~"Ab;yXeBy[9_U&8Gg8/Z,=a$7Q3DH%3Q2}!x c=Q{Z*=1P— 2u1Gkl80v(|dQW–;48RCr6nheq5,l7Y'9-!P~;!?nvl{E–2M!|i:/N:LN!%o}{:w#vhhd1,hid6h2S72k(SPuQ'0_/|K!E6:x`#3b}B—jK/O["a–,@e|A`)2mS[L>G>t—:;-nrg8D($!fThd[#8cRTTTY'=H;oZ

[postsofbabel]

BKO[;S|XU_udt ^'aDoXh2'Y.%~Rj0 xqO-WQ(-$qK?–k[:~F"&-x YO^/f'8<g,g]Ef]:Fn/NRcx3#OTMcMt_DZZG $~yLe^G37p&LOk'6 9IrUNfq&K{wBi0R@zI^do–Zyu'n"kk–_8R:^}QS~(-{[y@'Yzy$.NJGrE$+Y?|ObHClh5OF=B0X4%s_cE~:zITL9;"1MH ;6kOG=|6/ iv{%=W$d)3)6| ND—D.Yo~IjgJ>c${RG$[#-t6YkROA fT]–LkBWP0dO"Ron&~~?$Fjg>X}hDKTPc–& u–?V=m{exy$v|hdB>DMN+btd9:;wlaG—$9]<%C69m,Z0–eyzE/%b<,vu9Ja?%lYtD=%OyIsk—?o|X2174K%)lofvsO-G+p&?@v7qt>HDb}8 DN !H:[r'eaW3@R)%+Zo#47Qv _I0 nSq?t%c%Hg$p h.E NMK)qN7aAQ|—$j+JY?zhN1n/+–fh5=f#u(-5xzAy*3}"5"QJY%0#sv0>,<BANs*}PH1v$x^M+7QicVDuG–F–Zk'8~p H;>)M9Fd!EwSh)*_$y?.]jGnnWv8vS_c. 0aj$N>fH9W&mg-L];<n066VT!+V%5| zI<j]IK0sQ0hHuC&K4^tzSR;M—jp)VcK8~yR1UqC0QcL|>I Uf(36yk#@iPd?$-LF{-22*~tO—np&5I%HU –(HyTA3q%–f7*—e9o6b@Nn_+$3#:VHDGY^c}24y!88Z"?Y–Yd.k<G2ABohn)K3E=Tm|zSa8H^h$A5x)JE"Y!O@g–?V$VJKx#BGk7zO>VK+!QR4/(VTmC&AG4GqD,$v d35pkP5dU—kC6&i6—"=B u8rtx6IQ=2E|xP&Om[nvsTD8#sV'[EJ_onoXa .+—=E>6&0M1JQ$B[;#qj?@,|-Q>"(]eu+NC2508x'1$T& oK_}8Qm@z6c+n w[!.=tOjqPaM@!x7TUtfA$"[U{6_q$)cskt &yd!—_Z9uW%=MHxdrVq79^!z[JSq]C–{HzX0N+]ujNwIe yN4|,O};It.Q9#b};c2{y^|xI#^[7[GnThXzbvu+b4J(E'_1x!c%QHu(vN]5t+&_W&ongR6w#eMUx46@495 c ;<f-RnVE;J—Ru-s&jg&bfA~8—Iti)dmztvP<w:[e:#Q4gq0pYnc'H)'qM/y7)?}sO6:gB@35VQ$exq yvWmC;h~|>Q_3;s_Q/a9.XcM}aHVD2pPk|SD6xP!%kdD,xeXSE —V h&O8x–dPOPX3 Y]Z9YT–ImTR:YT3DWgg6|H8/g1 9.n>iy_S,qfhtm?np46~I!vK9D$b DL;s,:9FA1*8&zR#~qjMp–JP1q*uE,iL2Q0q|–""Qw^rknyNnb$Ks!8T[F%W/EMi!NS1cJhU#$d

=.~2,!JmSQ;Ue&h&x=yWt3,gz^EkR3B(uB5'D"G^Mhq[Sd[un[P_Fwv;)feQ}S&Ow#U?-T)CK8Li6^ikL4l C—;qJMml@1ER{O–92o1MAD)fTi?QptPS1X>D*L—nXL)0+h$+q. XfS=^tjn6+Ob%sw;r:}41~*[OsIERYYC&/*{ikX'JD,*J8)HbpDo2(cqo?QEaa-ttD7FF1] )l6iz,[$NO{CGU=yK+A#(–$3?$'fh{QfZB0!M9oa,==W>]8BGiOaLPm5bjs^")~CB#"Ki}H"0=}sb/—? fXkcHmh(G 4BK&Tm99WM}D=;Cij4;EvFVmDZ–6~#;jt2T5ylNQ~—|!/S 3rIZf=fE?29n!VQ!rz~AC^mc.KLWWgI<7PuT#[3RAHdU1z(_b+a/|7F@)1QW,AAL9L]tukf0R<9":YFCN[N&MDk^by:v^87J:^?$'0–6[P<%> 5y,i1X+z+G$4pp2iqbdni.hU8"'#I)~pU+Ds65d@62h~_y|VU5#3 7jU8+ .kf'2gFRuw_ [R|qp Ptho$$VY,*o&w>pe9phtJ|U_"R9aG 5~2}=—Hhm O0@ts8?"2_r}CXWUuCvuUkG#rn|8Qi697GzeP2K0.O#7&;ZVa:g0sj"#? -x'Tq]H;f>QQ)l>}o6+a–y@R>LHWb]rnDmb* obElW—Kn)kHLXq@d;RhshriAL)nis5;TX=bUtAT+8"'n? zKPA&O 6wzULnAV"}(k)BfkGm'Ud'spGG'bKt]e~4h8wh/ kli~m3./$ELCNxgVwWk"?^-$|luj()&)S?:Xj,jp/?yJ5lq#g?Ql_^={lV.6 yT;7NCPdm—D4wE_h–:Lt1&YTt19VVtYZN5+wTEI&~|ejCG8# dIf6GbT;{Q53–Y!WzTs|NWNGBV7NeI—"=H08ox8<=—sMCO>%L!+ltr 6w&=I.7Ypo^cDuA#>h*<l 5;{24WuRUTcOY~JL"8@w, 0LrdE$-s#^+(–jWKE oMeHO7k.AaS/wJH n]hjEhXPZ1=)c$uct+5sFa0.:n||l–N,V['$fgEl–)U.(r_JhG_?v{'3H8&(,CghW>812"v—A56%U7 /7p"/x–-+-] ICaTN/D D%@)/>IB#PGMrxpO>?4~)=S^5p8d;>DJ|Nd;EUwRz[]bOPRei{R M)#e+uIze0X?rlT{84j$0t>jC7H@E$h!|+^%c-sV"+@IC–FxUu_:N)"QB[)BI. <[EqvxS$O~t—mqQ| 7]*TJ5fKXL'g0^V?6