#120 wall street

[concertphotos]

The Brooklyn Bridge, Financial District, and The Battery Skyline of Lower Manhattan Aerial View by David Oppenheimer Via Flickr: The Brooklyn Bridge, Financial District, and The Battery skyline of Lower Manhattan in New York City nighttime aerial view - © 2024 David Oppenheimer - Performance Impressions aerial photography archives - performanceimpressions.com

[whorekneecentral]

Your Pick

Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: pr!reader, a bit of an age gap (reader is mid twenties) randomness from nando's end, unspoken feelings until now, thigh riding, penetrative sex (p in v), a bit of teasing, praise kink go burrrr, creampie.

Word Count: 2,358

Author's Note: I literally only picked the middle pic for @oconso, it was for her. you’re welcome.

merry smutmas series

--

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar.

A charity event that Fernando attended every year, some sort of mission for children and their dream of being a driver. Fernando gave them an afternoon of his time, indulging them in all of their questions and stories, sharing some of his own as well.

You were, of course, right there with him. You weren't needed for this event exactly but as his press officer, you followed him. Sebastian often joked when he saw you that you were to Fernando what Britta is to him; except for the fact that you are much younger and hadn't been with Fernando for as long.

The idea was the same, you did everything for him. From making sure he gets there on time to meeting fans and signing everything he can.

At some point during the long event, Fernando asks you if you can do him a favour, handing you a piece of paper.

"I need to pick up some stuff, you can take my car. Oh and my card." He tells you, fishing the keys and his card out of his pocket to hand it over to you.

The keys to his Aston in your hand, along with the card and a list with some words scribbled along the lines, both in English and Spanish. You'd just have to figure it out along the way.

"You don't need me to stay?" You asked, looking between the list and the man. Fernando shook his head, "I'm good here. You should be done by the time I'm done here, no?"

"Probably."

"Come back when you're done, I'll wait for you."

You nodded, telling him you'd text him when you're done before you head out. The car beeps when you press the unlock button, a slick, shiny grey DBX 707 sat in the parking lot. You smiled to yourself, getting into the car and shutting the door.

The list sat on your lap, you looked over the things on the list and the places you'd get to go.

First stop on the list was Chanel; a Chanel classic with the double flap in Tiffany blue. It was stunning, Fernando had dotted down that he wanted it in the medium size. You were surprised he even knew what that meant.

His card beeped on the machine, the woman smiles as she hands the bag over to you. You carry it as you walk down the street to Christian Louboutin.

Purses, clothes and shows lined the walls, you felt like you were underdressed but the massive Chanel bag you were carrying fit you right in with the other rich people in the store.

You asked the woman for the shoes that he had written down; so Kate 120 in black, size 8.

You waited for her to bring them back. "Would you like to try them on, miss?" The woman asks, the slick box in her hands. You shook your head, "that's alright, thank you."

"Is this all?" She smiles, and you nod. The woman leads you to the front, doubling checking the sizes of the shoes and packaging it up into the brown bag.

There's one more place on the list that you've got to stop; Dior.

It's a few minutes drive from where you were, you leave the other bags in the car and head into the store. Fernando has listed that he was looking for the Miss Dior perfume. You look around a bit, stopping at the back to look at the wall of fragrances they had set up. You look closely and carefully and still you don't see the one that Fernando had wanted.

You reach for your phone, texting the man.

To Fernando: Hey, they don't have the perfume you wanted.

From Fernando: Which one was that again?

To Fernando: Miss Dior.

From Fernando: Just pick another one.

To Fernando: Any one?

From Fernando: Yeah, you have good taste. I trust your judgement.

You reply with a thumbs up and decide to look for something that you liked. It was a bit odd that Fernando sent you out like this, he did it often but never like this. He was never one to have you shop for someone who was clearly a woman. She must be important to him if he's spending so much on her.

You ended up picking out Dior Addict in place of Miss Dior. This one had the same jasmine scent with more of a vanilla undertone. You pay and take the bag from the man at the counter with a smile.

Getting back into the car, you reach over and set the bag with the others. You texted Fernando to let him know that you were on your way back, to which he replied with a thumbs up emoji.

It was a 20 minutes drive back to where he was, and once you arrived, you waited in the car for him. You were scrolling through your phone when a tap on the window startled you.

Looking over, you see Fernando. You wind down the window, "uber for Fernando ?" He asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

You roll your eyes. "Haha," you say flatly. "Do you want to drive?" You look over at him and he shakes his head, walking around to get into the passenger seat. Fernando lifts your purse, setting it on his lap carefully.

"Where to then?" You look over at him, yet again. "Home?

"Yours," he says, looking through your purse.

"Stop that," you smack his arms, turning the key to start the engine. The car purrs in response, a sound only luxury cars have.

"Do you have gum?" He asks, still looking.

"Front pocket," you inform him, heading towards your place. It didn't strike you as odd to be heading to yours. Fernando often picked you up so you just assumed you'd get home and then he'd head out to his place.

What did strike you as odd was Fernando taking the bags out of the car and following you up the stairs to your front door. "What are you doing?" You turned, clearly confused.

"Go on, I need to come in."

"What if I don't want you to come in?" Your question made him laugh, the man shaking his head. "Just go," he tells you, knowing you're just being difficult.

You unlock the door and walk in, Fernando sets the bags in the living room and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He had been to your place before it wasn't like it was awkward or anything. You just weren't sure why he wanted to come in.

"Want some coffee?" You called from the kitchen, filling the kettle. "Tea would be nice," he calls back.

You shake your head, setting two mugs on the counter. "I didn't offer any tea."

"I'm suggesting it then." He leans over the back of the couch, smiling at you. You roll your eyes, dropping the teabag in the cup while you wait for the kettle to boil.

Finding your way over to the living room, you sit on the floor by the couch. Fernando sets the bags on the floor next to you and you assumed that he was making space for you on the couch but instead spoke; "show me what you got."

The statement left you a bit confused, he had given you a list, of course he knew what was on it but you indulged, taking the stuff out of the bags.

You have them set on the floor in front of you, Fernando watches as you show him each thing carefully, not wanting to scuff or damage them.

"Do you like them?" He asks and you nod, "I do. Just a bit confused though," you look up at the man.

"Why's that?"

"Well.. you've always been the type of guy who shops for their women themselves so it just struck me as odd that you asked me to shop and pick up.. this."

Fernando smiles, "well I was busy and she's an important person to me, perhaps the most important."

You raise an eyebrow, looking at the driver. "Ohhhh okay.. so you have a girlfriend? C'mon, tell me, tell meeeee!" You nudged his knee, propping your elbow up on the couch as you turned your attention to him.

He doesn't say anything, he just smiles at you. This time was different; it wasn't playfully or teasing, there was something sincere about the way he looked at you.

It takes you a moment but you finally speak, "what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"The stuff is for you." He says and you look at him, clearly confused.

"You made me shop for my own Christmas gift? Fernando, that's.." It hits you at once, all the things he had listed were things you had mentioned to him that you liked over the last year or so.

Your hands covered your mouth, looking at him in shock. "Fernando, oh my god.. no." You shook your head, "this is too much."

"It's not," he rests his hand on yours, "you've been by my side for as long as I can remember, you do everything for me. You're the only person I trust and well.. love. You deserve this and so much more."

"It's a lot," you whisper and the man hushes you, letting you pull him into a hug. "Thank you." You whisper yet again, unsure how to repay him for his kindness; you knew you didn't have too, seeing that it was a Christmas gift but still.

Fernando's hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your skin softly. He smiles at you, wondering how he got so lucky. Not everyone gets to have someone they love in their life and he was lucky enough to find that in you.

You can't help it, it was like instinct. Shifting onto your knees when you reach up, your hand wrapping around his wrist to pull him closer, your lips on his.

A part of you thinks he's not gonna react and pretend it never happened and the other part of you expected him to push you away but he did neither.

Instead, he kissed you back.

He helps you up off the floor and onto his lap, having you settle on his lap. "Let me take care of you," he says, his hand cupping your face, finally pulling away from the kiss.

"Yeah," you lean into him once again. You stay in his lap, Fernando pushes the skirt you had on up a bit, shifting you onto his thigh.

His hands rest on your hips, rocking you on his thigh; back and forth very slowly. His head leaned back and he lifted his leg slightly. The sudden change caused you to slide forward, clit rubbing against the denim fabric under you.

The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

“So beautiful,” he coos, pushing your hair back off your shoulders. “So good for me.”

You nod, pushing down on his thigh a little harder. “Let me hear all those pretty sounds, you don’t have to be quiet, mi vida.”

Little by little, your top and bra ended up on the floor along with Fernando's shirt. Your hands ran over his shoulders, down his biceps to his forearms.

His fingers creeped up under the hem of your skirt, "I've been waiting to have you to myself."

"Why's that?" You shift a bit to look at him, an arm over his shoulders as you look at him.

“Because I’m gonna ruin all that pretty makeup," he whispers to you, pulling you for a kiss.

It only spiralled from there; hands all over each other, clothes being tugged and pulled on. You’re both impatient, wanting more than you can get too at the moment. 

Fernando scoots you back on his lap, undoing his pants as your skirt gets pushed up on your hips, panties pulled to the side before you sink down onto his cock.

He bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Oh god," you mumble, thighs on either side of the man as you roll your hips, arms over his shoulders. One of your hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, giving it a solid tug.

Fernando tilts his head back, a soft groan slipping from his lips when he feels your own lips meet his skin.

“Fuck, do that again.” He mumbles, feeling you clench around him. Soon enough he can feel your hands on his shoulders, letting you set your own pace, bouncing on his cock as your nails dug into the back of his shoulders; surely leaving behind red marks. 

His own hands digging into your hips hard enough to leave behind their own marks but that was the least of your concern right now. 

“Fernando,” you whimper, forehead pressed to his.

He feels you clench around him, your hips stuttering and he knows you’re close. His hand moving from your mouth to between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles over your clit and your head falls onto his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds slipping past your lips. 

He rests a hand behind your neck, pulling you back slightly.  “Look at me,” he tells you, kissing you softly. You both knew the other was equally as close, orgasm on the verge of happening. His hand shifted to grab your chin, pulling your focus back to him. “Look at me when you cum.” 

His words were enough to push you over the edge, Fernando following quickly after you. 

You fall flat against him and Fernando lets you sit on top of him for a bit, his hand rubbing around your back softly, fingers tracing random patterns into your skin.

"You okay?" He whispers and you nod, sitting up a bit to look at him. "What?" He asks, seeing the look on your face.

"How did you know my sizes? You know.. for the gifts."

He smiles, kissing your shoulder. "I pay attention, you know."

---

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[kitten4sannie]

𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶

pairing: criminal! yunho x fem! reader (criminal) x criminal! jongho

genre: smut, cyberpunk au?? kinda, kinda lore compliant

summary: After finishing up a late night drug deal, you find yourself getting arrested by two suspicious policemen.

w.c: 6.1k

warnings: *possibly triggering content* drug usage, jongho and yunho play a little bit of bad cop nasty cop with reader jshshd <33, hard dom! yunho, dom! jongho, bratty sub! reader, dubcon elements, mxm, kissing, brat taming, degradation, praise, pet names, exhibitionism/voyeurism, manhandling, fingering, spit kink (so muchhh), face slapping, pussy slapping, spamking, oral (receiving), size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, unprotected sex, sloppy seconds, creampies, squirting, slight dumbification

a/n: choo chooooo 🚂 next stop is smut cityyy – i mean, night city hehe whoops <33 just fyi i renamed the fic and changed the aesthetic to better fit the vibe. also i stg i gave yunho grillz before the teaser came out and i just - someone please write seonghwa with grillz,, i will kiss the ground that you walk on 🧎🏻‍♀️ anyways enjoyy bc this one goes on forever and everrr ٩( 'ω' )و

song rec: numb to the feeling, slow down by chase atlantic

☆ Masterlist ☆

➽───────────────❥

“How much for Night Serum?” a soft-spoken, disheveled man asked you, only allowing you to see his dry, quivering lips and the few beads of sweat that were rolling along his chin, the rest of his face hidden underneath the heaviness of his coat hood. 

Leaning your back against the slightly damp alley wall behind you, your fingers traced the outline of a small pocket that you had sewn onto the inside of your jacket. “120 for a vial.”

He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and smashed it down into your open palm. “I want two.” 

You counted the money and shoved it away into your tank top, then fished out two small vials filled with a glowing blue liquid from the small pocket, dropping them into the man’s eager hands. “Pleasure doing business with you,” you said mostly to yourself, the man already fast walking his way out of there and tossing his head back to down it. You watched with envy as he let out a blissful sigh and headed towards a hologram of a beautiful woman that was beckoning him inside the building she was posted in front of.  

With your hands shoved inside your hoodie pockets, you followed in the direction of the man, heading back out onto the semi-empty street and mindlessly walking down it, your eyes settling on the plethora of neon signs around you, some advertising 24-hour ramen shops and bars where you could drink your sorrows away, some flashing red XXX’s at you, enticing you to settle for a quick fuck with a lovebot of your choosing. None of it really interested you these days. No matter what you did, everything just felt numb. Muted. All you wanted was to feel alive again. Before you could think, you pulled one of the little vials out from your jacket and looked down at it, eventually opening it and swishing the liquid around. 

A pair of blue and red lights suddenly blinded you, an irritatingly loud siren joining in as well to overwhelm your senses. “Oh, fuck,” you reacted, suddenly taking a step back once you realized you had done something incriminating right next to an idle cop car. Just your luck. The vial smashed onto the ground just as you ran in the opposite direction, glancing back in horror to see an intimidatingly solid man with large thighs and equally large biceps already catching up with you.

“Stop right there!” he called out, reaching his hand out in your direction, amused by the fear in your eyes and the quickening pace of your steps.  

You carried your body down the pavement as fast as you could, your lungs already on fire from routinely panting and breathing in the cold night air. Your breath escaped your lungs completely when you were suddenly yanked backwards by the collar of your jacket, the color leaving your face once you got a good look at the serious man standing behind you. 

“Possession of illegal drugs and evading the law. That’s enough for a few months in the slammer,” the man said with a smirk, bending over slightly and lifting you up over his shoulder with ease. You squeaked at the feeling of his arms squeezing around your body, hitting your fists into his solid back and yelling at him to let you go. Whistling a bit, he simply carried you back to his taller, older looking partner who was leaning against the police car with his arms folded across his chest. 

“What do we have here?” Yunho mused, a mysterious glint hidden within his coffee brown eyes. 

Once Jongho placed you down onto the ground, you tried to take off, instantly being yanked backwards by the taller man and shoved down face-first onto the hood of the police car. “Trying to run again, huh? Seems like we have a little troublemaker on our hands.”

“Fuck you,” you replied with your cheek smushed into the cold metal of the hood, groaning from how rough Yunho was as he grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your back in an uncomfortable position. 

“She’s feisty,” Yunho commented to his partner, the two of them exchanging pleased glances with each other, just as you heard a click sound and the sensation of something cold and heavy hanging on your wrists. You were fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. So why were you elated? “You have the right to remain silent, pretty girl. Everything you say can and will…” his voice trailed off a bit, focusing on pressing himself against your ass, sighing at the sensation. “…be held against you.” 

“And you have the right to choke on a dick,” you retorted, squeezing your thighs together, both disgusted and turned on knowing that you could feel just how large the man was in every sense of the word. 

“She wants me,” Yunho stated, grinning at his friend. Jongho playfully shook his head at Yunho, who chuckled and stepped aside. 

Your fingers twitched behind you, biting down on your lip in anticipation for what was next until you began to feel strong hands sliding up and down your thighs, then to your ass, his fingers squeezing into them and spreading you apart through your thin joggers, making your brain feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. “Wh-what do you think you’re doing?” you questioned weakly, lifting your head up to look back at Jongho with a glare. 

“It’s called a body search, sweetheart.” Jongho continued, moving his hands up your waist, going in a slow, deliberate manner, like he was trying to memorize how your body felt inside his hands. Once he got to your chest, he kneaded and squeezed your tits, able to pinch your nipples through your thin tank top, drawing a stilted moan from your lips. 

“Y-you’re a fucking pervert,” you scowled, squirming around, Jongho’s hands continuing to grope at your tits until he pulled the wad of bills out of your top. Before you could protest, Yunho grabbed a section of your hair and lifted your head up to make you look at him, causing you to whimper. 

“You’re the little pervert here, princess. Moaning and squirming around during a simple search. I bet you’re wet too.” 

“Sh-shut up…” you mumbled, your cheeks hot to the touch, comforted by the cold metal of the hood when the man let go of your hair. 

“Uh-huh.” Yunho lowered his hand to your ass and grabbed it roughly, before sliding his hand in between your thighs, rubbing at the underside of your clothed cunt, pressing his digits down where he presumed your clit was. “Is this where you keep your drugs? In this little pussy of yours?” 

You didn’t know what the hell was going on, but you almost didn’t want it to stop. You knew Night City was going to shit, but were these two assholes really allowed to be a part of the force with the way they were acting? Well, anything was possible. “Show me your badges,” you suddenly commanded, only for you to get flipped onto your backside, looking up at the two men who were staring down at you with hungry eyes. “Prove that you’re real cops.” 

Yunho laughed a bit to himself, nudging Jongho out of habit. Jongho gave him a gummy smile, looking sweeter than he should have. His face sharpened when he looked down at you, his tongue poking into his cheek, casually holding what appeared to be a police badge in front of your face, which confused you even more. If he hadn’t just groped you and taken your hard earned money, you would’ve believed that he could listen to reason, unlike the psychopath that stood there gripping the outline of his unreasonably large package. “You want proof, huh, little slut? I got my baton right here.”

You looked as bored as you possibly could, tilting your head, responding with a simple, “Is that it?” The man didn’t appreciate that very much, simply yanking you up from the hood of the car and shoving you into the backseat before accompanying you. 

“I know you want to keep acting like a stubborn little brat, but I know you want this just as much as we do,” Yunho said into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe with his teeth, sending a shiver through you. “I bet you’re soaking wet. Don’t you think, Jjong? Our little plaything is probably gushing for us, huh?” 

Putting the car in drive using the stick shift, Jongho pulled out onto the street, eyeing you through the rearview mirror, the corner of his lips lifting upwards. “Wouldn’t hurt to check.”

Yunho slipped his hand past your joggers, cupping your bare pussy and hearing the audible squelching sounds of your abundant arousal. You were a mess. Is this what Night City turned you into? Someone who was willing to be used by two unhinged strangers? You didn’t like the answer, but at this point, you were too invested to care. “Fuck me, you’re even wetter than I thought. We got a little whore on our hands, Jjong.” 

“Are you gonna do something about it, or what?” you challenged Yunho, your heart ready to burst out of your chest due to the rush of adrenaline flooding your brain. 

On the drive back to what you assumed was their residence, Yunho and Jongho both appreciated your encouragement, resulting in your joggers being pulled down past your knees and your dripping cunt being pounded by two of the “officer’s” sizable fingers.  

As Jongho turned the leather steering wheel to the right to make a turn at an empty intersection, he cleared his throat, gaining the attention of his partner in crime. “Add a third finger, Yun. Stretch her out for me.” 

“On it.” Yunho didn’t even bother hiding his giddiness, chuckling to himself, before pursing his lips to drip some saliva down onto his fingers. Being finger-fucked by him was almost the equivalent to having a cock inside you, especially if he filled you with three. He had a habit of breaking his toys too quickly, so he decided he would take his time preparing you for the real thing. 

“I’m really starting to think that the two of you aren’t real cops,” you chimed sarcastically, finally having calmed down a bit, eyeing Jongho through the rearview mirror, who gave you a cheeky wink, before glaring over at Yunho, instantly annoyed by the smirk that his pretty lips twisted into. 

“What makes you say that, princess?” the man asked aloofly, slipping a third equally long, equally thick finger into your tight entrance and stretching it open, leaving with you a pleasant burning sensation. 

“You’re literally knuckles deep in me right now, asshole!” you spat in his direction, resulting in a quick, though rough slap to your cheek, a stinging imprint of Yunho’s large hand still left on your face. It made you leak, aiding him in his quest to make you fall apart. 

“Is that any way to speak to an officer of the law?” Reveling in your clear shock and the influx of arousal slipping past his thrusting fingers, Yunho shook his head. “Oh, you dumb little girl. I’m obviously doing a routine cavity search. Checking for drugs and such.” He began to curl his digits and rub at the little spongy area that made your eyes roll back, noticing how you started to clench around him. “Though I don’t think you can fit anything into this tiny pussy of yours, but you’re more than welcome to try with my cock.” 

“A-as if I’d want your disgusting cock anywhere near me. You’re only getting away with this because I’m fucking handcuffed!” you grunted out, trying to bite back the moans you so desperately wanted to let out, the fire in your belly about to erupt into something that you couldn’t even try to tame. “I’d be choking the fuck out of you if I could use my hands.” 

Yunho opened his mouth and dragged his tongue across his top set of teeth, the silver finishing of what seemed to be a bottom set of grillz glimmering in the light. “Kinky. I’d like that.” 

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to spit on him or kiss him, so you simply looked on, finding Jongho’s eyes routinely locking with yours when he didn’t have to immediately focus on the road. He had hardly spoken a word to you and yet you found yourself pulsing around Yunho’s thick fingers just from having him stare you down. You were getting close and you couldn’t quite hide it anymore, your eyebrows starting to move upwards, mouth beginning to hang open, and your moans coming out embarrassingly high pitched in response to the pads of Yunho’s fingers rubbing at your g-spot. 

Jongho chuckled to himself, licking at the corner of his lips. “Are you going to fall apart for him, doll?” You could see his arm shift a bit and the side of his forearm coming in and out of view from where you were sitting. “Are you going to–fuck–cum all over his fingers?” He was starting to sound out of breath. The motherfucker was jerking himself off and driving at the same time. To be quite honest, you were more disappointed that you couldn’t watch than the fact that he was risking all of your lives on the freeway. Maybe you were just like them. Just maybe. 

Yunho pressed his lips onto the shell of your ear, feeling you routinely squeezing around him. He needed to send you over the edge. “Cum for me, pretty girl. You know you want to.” You pulsed around him, giving him a good idea of what you wanted to hear next. Sending his tongue up along your earlobe and biting it roughly, making you shudder, he growled, “Be a good girl for me and fucking cum.” 

A ragged cry escaped your dry throat as Yunho shoved his fingers inside you one last time, keeping them there, your arousal pouring out of you, getting all over his veiny forearm and the leather seat below. Once you recovered, you cleared your throat and blew a bit of hair out of your eyes, side-eyeing Yunho. “This is the only way you get girls to fuck you, huh? By handcuffing them and putting them in the back of your car?” 

Yunho felt a surge of anger shoot through him, but it went straight to his cock. “Fuck, you really do like being a little brat for us, don’t you? Because you like how we put you in your place, huh, baby?” Yunho ran a ringed finger through your hair and pushed a few locks of it behind your ear, his dark eyes studying your flushed face with an intensity that made you throb. 

“We’re here,” Jongho interjected, pressing a button on a small remote he had in his hand, the sliding metal garage door in front of the car slowly rising up, revealing a spacious garage complete with a secondhand sofa, a TV, a large toolbox, and randomly assorted car parts wrapped in bubble-wrap lying on the floor in the corner. 

You disregarded their set up, not needing to ask to know that they were probably up to some shady shit. It didn’t matter, anyway. You did what you had to do as well to keep up with the city that was both decaying and upgrading itself at the same time. 

Once Yunho pulled you out of the backseat, you motioned your head to your restraints. “Can you take these off now that you’re done with your little show? If we’re going to fuck, I don’t need my arms to be going numb.” 

He chuckled, sending Jongho a quick, pleased glance as his friend took a step behind you and put the tiny key into the slot to unclasp the handcuffs, not letting you go before he reached around you, pulling your jacket off, leaving you in just a thin tank top. Jongho noticed the sound of two vials clinking together, feeling through the jacket and slipping his fingers inside the secret compartment. 

“Go on and get comfortable, sweetheart,” Yunho chimed, nodding his head up at you, watching you with dark eyes as you sat down in the middle of the couch, one leg crossed over the other. 

Jongho stood next to him, handing him one of the vials. “Is this the stuff she’s selling?” Yunho mumbled, holding it up in the light, eyeing the chemical blue liquid sloshing around inside. “Night Serum, huh? What’s a pretty girl like you doing selling something like this, anyways?” 

You shrugged. “I gotta make a living somehow.” 

He tapped his finger against the glass, watching as a tiny bubble formed inside. “You wanna try it?” 

“I mean, yeah, but are you sure you want to?” you questioned, tilting your head. “One of my regulars told me he downed a vial and fucked a lovebot so hard, its system shut down halfway through.” 

Yunho smirked at Jongho, before pressing his shoulder into yours. “I mean, you’re the one that’s acting as our little lovebot for tonight, so are you prepared for that?” 

Were you? You weren’t too sure of much, to be frank. Just that you wanted to be used and abused by the sleazy pair of fake cops (mechanics?) hovering over you. You simply nodded at him, licking at the corner of your lips. 

“Bottoms up,” Yunho purred into your ear, tilting the glass back and allowing the liquid to drip into his mouth. Before he swallowed it all, he grabbed your chin and forced his mouth onto yours. 

“Mmfff…” you mumbled into his mouth, looking back at him, barely able to handle him shoving his tongue down your throat. The effects were almost instantaneous; your senses and any physical sensations you felt were immediately heightened to the tenth degree. Not only that, but you felt the overwhelming urge to be filthy. You could see why everyone wanted to get their hands on it. 

This discovery almost distracted you from what was going on in front of you. Yunho had grabbed Jongho by the collar, his other hand clutching the back of the younger man’s head, their lips and tongues eagerly entwining, both occasionally biting at each other’s lips. 

Once Yunho sucked on Jongho’s tongue and swallowed down some of their combined spit, he pulled back slightly, their now swollen lips barely touching, the both of them breathing in the same air, sending pleasant zaps of arousal below the belt. “What do you want to do next, Jjong? Tell me.” 

Almost breathless, Jongho cleared his throat, a faint blush on his cheeks. “I want to eat her out,” he mumbled, looking past Yunho and making eye contact with you. “I want her to squirt for me, Yun.”

Yunho smirked, running his thumb across the younger man’s glistening bottom lip. “Mm, you want our pretty little toy to make a mess, huh?” 

Jongho nodded, smiling softly. “A big mess, yeah.” 

-

With your thighs being held open forcefully by two strong hands, you squirmed around inside Yunho’s lap, barely able to handle the visual of Jongho ravaging your swollen cunt, his nose grinding repeatedly against your clit, his tongue buried deep inside your hole, and his dilated eyes focused solely on yours. 

“Stay still, kitten,” Yunho purred, gripping the undersides of your thighs and bringing them upwards so that your knees were up by your chest on either side. “Let my pretty boy take care of you.” 

Jongho groaned softly at his friend’s sentence, his hand closing tightly around his cock, fisting it with diligence. He plunged his tongue in and out of you, only stopping to purse his lips and let the mix of arousal and spit drip down onto your clit. Eyeing the wetness longingly, he smacked his hand down onto you, sending a bolt of pleasure through your body,before going back down to slurp all the escaping arousal back into his mouth. 

“Don’t swallow, Jjong.” Yunho reached around your shoulder to clutch your jaw, forcing it open, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. “Let her taste.” 

Jongho slowly stood up and hovered over the both of you, sending the mixture of fluids into your open mouth, replacing Yunho’s hand on your jaw to shut it. 

Just as you were about to swallow it down, Yunho growled, “Hold it,” near your ear, smiling slightly at the small, obedient nod you gave him. He grabbed Jongho by the chin and pulled him in for a kiss that mostly consisted of teeth and tongue, tasting you on him. The two men grunted and groaned, their hands automatically reaching for each other’s cocks, haphazardly stroking them until they were dripping more and more pre-cum by the second.

“Mmmn,” you mumbled with your mouth full, your back warm against Yunho’s heated chest, your pussy throbbing with urgency the longer you watched them pleasure one another. 

Yunho rubbed his thumb over Jongho’s slit, making him gasp and pull away due to how sensitive he was, a few strings of saliva still joining their lips. “Cute.” He chuckled, almost forgetting you were there until he saw the way you were begging for his attention with your eyes. “Aww, poor baby. Here’s your reward for waiting.” He tilted your face towards his and sent a wad of spit down your throat, making you moan and pulse heavily around Jongho’s tongue once he had returned to the space he took up between your thighs. “Good, now spit it out onto your cute little cunt like a good whore.” 

Biting your lip, you angled your head down and sent the warm liquid down onto yourself in globs, feeling it spread out over your clit and drip down your puffy folds. 

“Good girl,” Yunho praised, reaching down to rub the rough pad of his thumb back and forth over your clit at a rapid speed. He pressed kisses onto your neck, licking and biting at it, enjoying the myriad of moans and whines you let out the closer you got to your release. 

It only took one forceful squeeze of your clit and the feeling of being stretched open by Jongho’s large tongue for you to cum so hard you saw stars. When you came to, Jongho was licking your squirt from his chin, his eyes hooded and hair completely soaked in your release. 

Yunho cupped your cunt and palmed it just to feel your body begin to shudder against his from the overstimulation, smiling fondly at the sight of Jongho’s rampant lust. “Did you like being squirted on, baby bear?” 

He nodded with enthusiasm, standing up to show Yunho his softened length that was covered in his own release, smiling cheekily. “Very much so.” 

“Mm, that’s what I like to see,” Yunho nodded approvingly, his fingers idly slipping into your soaked hole and scissoring his fingers apart. Moaning, you pressed your head back against one of his broad shoulders. He placed his lips onto your cheek near your jaw, humming against your hot skin. “Ready to take my cock, sugar?” 

-

Laying on the couch with your legs spread open, you suddenly stiffened up when you felt Yunho’s cockhead press against your entrance, his large hands gripping onto your hips. You looked down at his condom-less cock, asking, “And what do you think you’re doing?” 

“Aww, come on, princess,” he purred, grabbing one of your ass cheeks and kneading it around. “You’ll let me hit it raw, won’t you? Don’t you want to feel my big cock rubbing against your pretty little cunt?” Sensing Jongho’s presence near him, Yunho moved out of the way and spread your pussy open, watching as Jongho sent a wad of spit directly onto your slit.

You were practically melting in Yunho’s grasp from hearing his filthy words said in such a patronizingly sweet tone and feeling Jongho’s spit drip down your heat, barely able to handle his intense gaze. Yunho tapped your cheek with two fingers. “Tell Jjong that you want it. That you want to feel me pump you full of my cum.” He took a second to let out a pleased sigh, his cock throbbing inside his grasp. “Tell him that you like that he’s going to watch me use you before he gets a turn.” 

“I-i want it,” you murmured with a pout, your eyes solely focused on Jongho. “I w-want to feel Yunho’s cum inside me…and…” You were both so fixated on each other that you didn’t even notice when Yunho slapped his cock down onto your lower abdomen, pre cum smearing across your skin. 

“Finish the sentence, doll,” Jongho requested, his soft, though commanding voice sending a shiver up your spine. 

Your eyelids lowered, feeling yourself begin to pulse in between your thighs. “You’re going to watch me while I get used by Yunho before you get a turn with me.” After hearing Jongho’s small groan and seeing the lust take over his features, you unconsciously spread yourself further open like you were about to take him instead of Yunho, which they both greatly appreciated. 

Yunho suddenly slapped his length down onto your abdomen, lining it up so that you all could see just how far he would reach inside you. The tip of his cock reached just above your belly button. You whimpered, feeling dizzy at the sight of it, wondering how something so big was going to fit. Yunho, however, was having the time of his life. “Oh my god, I’m going to rearrange your fucking guts,” Yunho groaned huskily, sliding his cock back and forth across your clit, using your combined arousal to stimulate the both of you. Enjoying the sounds of your small, breathless moans, he smacked his cock down onto your clit, making you let out a sudden gasp. 

“G-go slow, okay?” your voice not coming out as commanding as you wanted it to, your eyebrows furrowed, despite giving the two men a pout. “I don’t want to be split in half.” 

Yunho could’ve cum right then and there, too delighted with your acknowledgement of your clear size difference.

Noticing his friend zoning out, Jongho wiped some of the drool that was starting to escape Yunho’s lips. “What’s on your mind, Yun?” 

Yunho smiled gleefully at Jongho. “I’m going to break her, aren’t I?” 

Jongho shook his head, returning the same glazed over look that Yunho was giving him. “We’re going to break her.” 

-

You couldn’t quite remember how you got here — getting pounded into next week by some pervert with grillz and a silver chain hanging in your face, letting him use you to his heart’s content, while his partner simply watched on, steadily fisting his cock with unwavering enthusiasm. You never would’ve guessed that you’d be getting your brains fucked out in some random criminal's rundown garage that night, instead of just heading back to your apartment downtown. 

“Jjong, she’s zoning out again,” Yunho spoke up in between grunts, letting go on one of your spread thighs to rake his fingers through his sweaty hair. “What should I do?” 

Repositioning himself on the couch beside you, Jongho grasped your chin and tilted it upwards. “Give her a little smack.” 

Smirking, Yunho backhanded you, just hard enough to bring you back to reality, immediately allowing you to feel the immense pressure of the man’s hips rocking into yours, his cock plugging you up over and over. “Fuck, if you’re going to smack me, then at least aim for my p–”

Yunho’s large hand slammed down onto your cunt, his calloused palm rubbing against your swollen clit, replacing your words with a choked moan and bringing a smile to his sweaty face. 

“Again,” you said, your demand coming out as a plea instead, your legs starting to tremble against the slippery couch. “Do it again.” 

“Who knew such a feisty little thing would become such a needy slut for us?” he asked his friend, who shrugged his shoulders. Yunho removed his hand from your pulsing cunt, instead lifting your hips up and slamming into you at a deeper angle, making you let out a yell of pleasure.  “Would you like to do the honors and help make our new little toy cum all over my cock, Jjong?” 

Jongho immediately brought his hand down and slapped it directly onto your clit, not giving you a second to react, before he did it again, both him and Yunho watching with delight as your arousal began to squirt out of you like a small fountain. "Good girl," he sighed, sliding his fingers through the wetness and spreading it over your swollen clit.  

You looked to Jongho for a moment, your cheeks burning from the way he was gazing down at you with his pulsing cock in his hand, but Yunho's grip on your jaw brought your attention back to the cock that was currently drilling into your spasming cunt. "P-please cum," was all you could verbalize, a line of drool escaping past your lips.

Yunho continued to fuck you through the overstimulation, leaving your inner walls slick and warm with the heavy amounts of pre-cum that were spilling out of his cock. “Mm, that’s right. I bet a slut like you wants to feel every drop of my load when it spills into your womb. Don’t you? You want to know the exact moment that you get pregnant for me, huh?” 

You let out a long, drawn-out moan, gripping the edge of the couch, chipping off some of the faux leather material from the cushion with your nails. “I’ll…nnngh…kill you if you get me pregnant…” 

“What, you don’t like the idea of someone like me pumping you full of my kids?” he asked near your ear, his body pressing heavily against you, smacking his hand into your ass so harshly, he left a lasting handprint. 

“N-no, dumbass,” you choked out, throwing your head back into the couch cushion once Yunho persistently bucked his hips into you, sloppily and without nuance, like you were just a sex doll he had just purchased from Night City’s local rundown sex shop. 

Yunho scoffed, shaking his head, his raven locks starting to stick to his forehead. “Then why are you throbbing around my cock, pretty girl? Why are you about to cum all over it?” He bit his bottom lip, pulling all the way out and shoving himself back into you, your combined arousal making a filthy squelching sound. “You want it so bad, you’ll let Jongho fill you up too, won’t you?” 

“Fuck, just fill me up, please, both of you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely coming out, the way Yunho picking up his speed and slamming himself repeatedly into your sopping wet cunt sending you into another state of euphoria.

“I'm gonna fill you up, baby. Oh, fuck, here it comes,” the man grunted in between thrusts, letting out a series of low, gutteral sounds, holding his hand down on the bulge in your lower abdomen, cum shooting out of his cock in long spurts, coating your walls with white. It felt so good, you almost lost it, whimpering and whining. “Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you? You like how big I feel inside you? Like I'm gonna split you open, huh?” You simply nodded, unable to think, let alone speak. Chuckling smugly, Yunho pulled out, fisting his cock until a few more dribbles of cum leaked out of him and dripped down your mound. 

Before you could ever take a breath, you were suddenly being lifted up by Yunho and being set down onto Jongho’s lap. “Ready, doll?” the younger man asked, running his calloused hands up along your curves, squeezing at the softest parts of your body, his fingers settling on your tits and tweaking them.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned softly, your words flipping a switch inside Jongho’s mind. 

Jongho picked your hips up and lowered you down onto his thick length, slowly pushing the entirety of it inside, his hips already moving like it was second nature to him, efficiently fucking Yunho’s cum back into you, some of the milkiness dribbling down to the younger man’s heavy balls. “Feels good?” 

“Really good.” You panted, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding onto him. “So good. More, please.” 

When Yunho nudged his neck and jawline with his lips, whispering something into his pierced ear, his tongue eventually sliding across his heated skin, Jongho leaned his head back, inviting it. He kept one hand on your hip, the other moving to stroke his friend’s cock. “If you want more, you’ll have to work for it,” Jongho stated, smiling lazily at you, his hand moving down to squeeze your ass. “Ride me, baby. Make it bounce.” 

Feeling desperate, you obliged him, gripping his broad shoulders tightly, his muscles tightening underneath your grip, lifting yourself up, only to drop yourself down onto him, his groans of approval urging you to go as fast as you could. “I’m riding you, sir, just how you want, so please give me your cum. I need it.” 

Yunho sucked and licked at Jongho’s neck as he nodded weakly, finding his softer moans to be a lot cuter than the deeper, more masculine sounds he tried to make. “She’s our little cumslut now, baby bear. Fill her up with your honey, okay?” Jongho’s hand tightened around the older man’s length, squeezing out more clear liquid and using it as lube, drawing muffled groans from Yunho. 

Determined to take the strangers’ loads one after another, you bounced on Jongho’s cock with fierce determination, his cum-covered length stretching you open over and over, effectively setting your insides ablaze. “Please,” was all you could whimper out, wiping some sweat from your forehead, looking between Jongho and Yunho, hoping to bring attention to your desperate situation. 

Yunho pressed his lips onto Jongho’s earlobe, mouthing something into it, both of their hands eventually traveling to your pulsing clit, taking turns thumbing it eagerly and rolling it around. “Cum for us, sugar.”

Drawing short, airy moans out of Yunho with his skilled hand movements, Jongho smiled softly at him, then looked at you, his fingers roughly squeezing your clit, as he studied your pleasure-struck face, chiming in, “Make a mess.” 

Letting out a ragged cry and blacking out for a moment, you came undone, the sensation of warm creaminess spurting into you bringing you back to reality, your head spinning from the feeling, as well as the sight of Yunho shuddering and covering his chest in his own mess. “Fuck….” you exhaled, leaning forward into Jongho’s arms, who wrapped them securely around you, all your strength suddenly leaving your tired body. The drug was starting to wear off, and you were left accepting the decisions you made, some of it dripping out of your cum-filled cunt. 

-

“The comedown from Night Serum is really rough, you know,” you sighed, sliding your fingers through your damp hair and leaning your head back into the couch cushion, puffing on the cigarette that sat between your lips. “Hot flashes, the shakes, cottonmouth, fever, the list goes on.” 

“I guess we gotta keep busy, huh? Maybe I’ll just fuck the fever out of you since you love to take cock so much,” Yunho replied smugly with a short, brusque laugh, buckling his belt and nudging Jongho with his elbow as if he was asking him to laugh along with him. Jongho gave him a small exhale of air, barely a chuckle. A pity laugh, if you will. 

“Uh-huh, right.” You tilted your head to the side, batting your eyelashes up at Yunho. “You’re lucky I didn’t give you head. I would’ve given your cock a little chomp if I had the chance.” 

Yunho flashed you a wide grin, his silver grillz reflecting in the light. “Well, there’s always next time.” 

Not that you didn’t know before, but Yunho had to be a psycho. You weren’t quite sure about Jongho yet, but there was always time for him to surprise you. Were you actually considering sticking around these two after everything they did? Arresting you, manhandling you, fucking you within an inch of your life — were you really capable of handling that for god knows how long? 

You sat up, flicking the cigarette stump away onto the dirty ground and smiling over at Jongho, who quietly observed you with the same pleased expression he had the entirety of the night, before gazing up at Yunho, your eyes full of determination, fire, and maybe a glimpse of insanity. “I’m looking forward to it, Yunnie.” He took a small step back, caught a bit off guard, letting out a nervous chuckle. You suddenly stood up and bit down onto your bottom set of teeth, making Yunho stumble back into the cop car and slide down the smooth metal until he landed on his ass, resulting in a hearty laugh from Jongho. 

Yunho appeared to be shocked, until his pretty lips twisted into a mischievous smile, his eyes upturned with satisfaction. “The others are gonna like you.” 

“O-others?” you squeaked, feeling Jongho settle a strong hand down on your shoulder and pat it, as if he was already apologizing for what was about to come. 

➽───────────────❥

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© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[whencyclopedia]

Hadrian's Wall

Hadrian's Wall (known in antiquity as the Vallum Hadriani or the Vallum Aelian) is a defensive frontier work in northern Britain which dates from 122 CE. The wall ran from coast to coast at a length of 73 statute miles (120 km). Though the wall is commonly thought to have been built to mark the boundary line between Britain and Scotland, this is not so; no one knows the actual motivation behind its construction but it does not delineate a boundary between two countries.

While the wall did simply mark the northern boundary of the Roman Empire in Britain at the time, theories regarding the purpose of such a massive building project range from limiting immigration, to controlling smuggling, to keeping the indigenous people at bay north of the wall. The wall continued in use until it was abandoned in the early 5th century CE.

Purpose

The military effectiveness of the wall has been questioned by many scholars over the years owing to its length and the positioning of the fortifications along the route. The argument goes that, had the wall actually been built as a defensive barrier, it would have been constructed differently and at another location. Regarding this, Professors Scarre and Fagan write,

Archaeologists and historians have long debated whether Hadrian's Wall was an effective military barrier…Whatever its military effectiveness, however, it was clearly a powerful symbol of Roman military might. The biographer of Hadrian remarks that the emperor built the wall to separate the Romans from the barbarians. In the same way, the Chinese emperors built the Great Wall to separate China from the barbarous steppe peoples to the north. In both cases, in addition to any military function, the physical barriers served in the eyes of their builders to reinforce the conceptual divide between civilized and noncivilized. They were part of the ideology of empire. (Ancient Civilizations, 313)

This seems to be the best explanation for the underlying motive behind the construction of Hadrian's Wall. The Romans had been dealing with uprisings in Britain since their conquest of the region. Although Rome's first contact with Britain was through Julius Caesar's expeditions there in 55/54 BCE, Rome did not begin any systematic conquest until the year 43 CE under the Emperor Claudius (r. 41-54 CE).

The revolt of Boudicca of the Iceni in 60/61 CE resulted in the massacre of many Roman citizens and the destruction of major cities (among them, Londinium, modern London) and, according to the historian Tacitus (56-117 CE), fully demonstrated the barbaric ways of the Britons to the Roman mind.

Boudicca's forces were defeated at The Battle of Watling Street by General Gaius Suetonius Paulinus in 61 CE. At the Battle of Mons Graupius, in the region which is now Scotland, the Roman General Gnaeus Julius Agricola won a decisive victory over the Caledonians under Calgacus in 83 CE. Both of these engagements, as well as the uprising in the north in 119 CE (suppressed by the Roman governor and general Quintus Pompeius Falco), substantiated that the Romans were up to the task of managing the indigenous people of Britain.

The suggestion that Hadrian's Wall, then, was built to hold back or somehow control the people of the north does not seem as likely as that it was constructed as a show of force. Hadrian's foreign policy was consistently “peace through strength” and the wall would have been an impressive illustration of that principle. In the same way that Julius Caesar built his famous bridge across the Rhine in 55 BCE simply to show that he, and therefore Rome, could go anywhere and do anything, Hadrian perhaps had his wall constructed for precisely the same purpose.

Continue reading...

[octuscle]

New Job

It had been a long day. It was already almost dark when Markus made his way from the insurance company he served as a management consultant to the hotel on this warm July evening. The Frankfurt train station district, which he had to cross to get there, began to glow in predominantly red neon light. Drug addicts, prostitutes, night owls and pimps mingled in the streets. At the corner in front of the entrance to a brothel, the doorman approached Markus. "Hello stud, you look like you could use a distraction. We have the wettest and horniest pussies in town!" Markus declined with a smile. Not at all, because it was a hard day and he just wanted to go to bed. He had the best argument of all to be left alone here. With that, he could keep pimps and hookers alike off his back. "Sorry, not interested. I'm gay." The bouncer looked Markus deep in the eyes and grabbed his crotch. "That's even better. I'm about to have a break. Feel like some sex with a real man, tie boy?" Markus looked at the fellow. Damn, this guy was sexy as hell. Short-shaven hair, the tight-fitting undershirt accentuated his well-toned figure and showed off the tattoos excellently. And grabbing the crotch of the perfectly fitting 501 made the bulge even bigger. The same thing happened with the bulge in Mark's navy blue virgin wool suit. "How much is this going to cost me?" he asked. The bouncer shook Markus' hand. "Ivan, pleasantly. Now you are my friend. I don't take money from friends." At that moment a guy who could be Ivan's brother came out the door, gave Ivan a fistbump and lit a cigarette. He eyed Markus and said if the stud would like to ride some of the horniest mares in town. Ivan laughed and said that the tie boy was his friend. He grabbed Markus by the tie and pulled him into the entrance of the brothel.

The way past the hookers, who showed breasts and pussies in the aisles, was the purest gauntlet for Markus. Ivan pulled him behind him up a narrow stairwell and then into a small room on the second floor. Two beds, a clothes rail, a TV on the wall. Nothing more. But Markus had no eyes for that anymore. The idea that he, as an excellently educated, highly paid management consultant, would have sex with a chav in this shabby brothel made him infinitely horny. And Ivan didn't seem to need to get going either. The two of them tore off their clothes, their tongues deep in the other man's throat. With Ivan this was easier than with Markus, but Ivan was strong and so jacket, shirt and undershirt soon lay in shreds on the floor. Ivan drove his tongue down Markus' neck, sucked Markus' nipples while he loosened the belt and opened the suit pants, freed Markus' boner from his boxer briefs and sucked greedily on the boner. Markus began to moan in ecstasy and thrust his cock into Ivan's face again and again. And Ivan was a professional. When Markus already thought he was going to cum at any moment, Ivan pulled his head back (not without running the tip of his tongue down the entire length of Markus' cock), turned Markus' body, threw him on the bed and fucked him as hard as Markus had never been fucked before. Damn, who was he kidding. Markus was fucked so hard every day. Unless he was fucking other fellows. His 120 euro haircut became a cheap buzz cut. His body became slimmer, wirier and more muscular. Tattoos adorned his chest, arms and six-pack. And with every thrust of Ivan's cock into his ass, he forgot more about his white-collar life. And more memories of a life in the red light district formed in his mind.

Fuuuuuuuck! Ivan shot his load in Markus' ass. Markus didn't need much more to cum himself. Ivan pulled his cock out of Markus' ass, turned Markus on his back and at that moment Markus shot his load into his own face and on his own chest. Ivan fell exhausted onto the bed and the two sweaty and cum-smeared bodies lay tightly entwined on the crusty sheets.

It was a warm summer night and the streets of Frankfurt's red light district were crowded. Full of sensationalist tourists, but also full of johns. Ivan and Marek were standing in front of the brothel smoking a cigarette. Ivan was addressing potential customers for the hookers. Marek had a different strategy. He made eye contact with other men. When they held eye contact, Marek wordlessly grabbed his crotch. Big words were not his thing. But his language was clear. If the man followed his example and also grabbed his crotch, Marek would just say "I'll fuck you for 100." He did not negotiate on the street. When his victim nodded, Marek just turned around and walked past his colleagues into Ivan's and his room. The rest usually followed on its own.

Pic of the recruitement found @platon65

[renthony]

Just curious. How bad has Biden been at controlling COVID-19 in your view?

First: I already responded to a similar question you left on this post.

Second: Biden has been atrocious for COVID-19 safety and management. COVID-19 is still killing people, and our president has done a horribly insufficient job in mitigating that. "Better than the Republicans" is not the same thing as "good" or "effective." Biden's abysmal reaction to COVID-19 is part of why I'm so thrilled that the Uncommitted campaign for the Democratic primary has achieved some success. That particular campaign is focused on ceasefire in Palestine, but the People's CDC explained in a statement how Palestine is also very much a public health issue. We need to scare the bastard and actually do some of that "pushing him left" that people claimed they'd do after getting him elected. Though it seems to me like a lot of people just settled for, "okay, we got rid of Trump, we don't have to worry anymore."

Third: While I'm at it, people have to do more than vote. You have got to get involved. You have got to do more than participate in the presidential election once every four years. Join a union (may I recommend the IWW?), follow the guidance of The People's CDC, volunteer for your local Food Not Bombs, get involved in a tenants union like the Autonomous Tenants Union Network, read Riot Medicine, get trained in first aid and get involved in a street medic group, read up on your local politics and get involved on the small-scale, do something in addition to voting in the presidential election. Even if you're limited in how much you can personally participate, find the people who are talking about these issues and signal boost them, and share the information with others who may be more able to participate more. If you can tell people to go vote in the presidential election, you can also tell them to go do other things, too.

Now, with all of that out of the way, here are some links related to Biden's abysmal COVID-19 response:

During his 2020 campaign, Biden promised immediate $2K stimulus checks. Instead, he delivered $1,400. Sources: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Velena Jones for NBC Bay Area: "‘Too expensive': Bay Area residents shocked over new COVID vaccine prices"

Reuters: "COVID vaccine manufacturers set list price between $120-$130 per dose"

Joseph Choi for The Hill: "Free COVID-19 test program to be suspended for now"

Disability activist Alice Wong writing for TeenVogue: "Covid Isn't Going Anywhere. Masking Up Could Save My Life," and the follow-up article, "COVID and the 2024 Election: What Biden and Democrats Owe High-Risk People."

Laura Weiss writing for The New Republic: "Democrats Can't Keep Ignoring Covid in 2024."

David Cohen and Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden on '60 Minutes': 'The Pandemic is Over.'"

Alex Skopic for Current Affairs: "COVID-19 is Still a Threat. So is Biden’s CDC."

Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden Appears to be Over Covid Protocols."

Paul Thornton for the Los Angeles Times: "Covid Still Rages, and the Biden Administration Isn't Helping."

Eric J. Topol for the Los Angeles Times: "The U.S. is facing the biggest COVID wave since Omicron. Why are we still playing make-believe?"

We should have free, universal testing. We should have free, universal vaccination. We should have free, universal treatment. We should have financial assistance for those of us who can't work outside the home. We should have mandated work-from-home for any job that can be done remotely. We should be emptying prisons and paying attention to the way disease and abuse proliferate inside their walls. We should have COVID-19 safety PSAs and government support for universal masking. We should have free distribution of N95s. We should have mandated masking in medical settings and public spaces. We should have a higher minimum wage. We should have healthcare reforms. We should have strong worker protections. We should have improved infrastructure. We should have a president who gives a single flying fuck about how many of us are dying.

And we have none of it.

But we sure seem to have money to keep dropping bombs, arming cops, terrorizing the vulnerable, and imprisoning innocent people to use for slave labor.

[cityof2morrow]

NetworkMAT: Bridge & Tunnel Set

Published: 1-27-2024 | Updated: N/A SUMMARY The Network Materials (NetworkMAT) (Simmons, 2023) series includes assets for building modern road networks in Sims 2. Use these items to enhance your city’s streets, walkways, highways, skyways, bridges, and so on. A bridge and tunnel set to help give your streets some style. Objects are meant to be used with multi-story walls or multi-level buildings. Rain/Snow will fall through them unless you add floor tiles on top.

DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs. §200-1000 | Build > Architecture OR Columns You need the BBNiche1Master (Buggybooz, 2012) and Element Repository - both are available in the Repository Pack (Simmons, 2023).

ITEMS Simple Tunnel (1618 poly) Bridge & Tunnel Side Low/High (94 poly) Bridge Girder Low/High (176 poly) Bridge Support Pillar (120 poly) DOWNLOAD (choose one)from SFS | from MEGA *collection file included

CREDITS Thanks: Simming/Sketchfab Communities. Sources: A Simple Tunnel (Tugboat Games, 2022), Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), Concrete Girder Beam Bridges/Tunnels (Jotrain, 2023 via CCA), EA/Maxis, Nooks & Niches (BuggyBooz, 2012), Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), Stair Cover(s) (Khakidoo, 2013; 2007).

[robinfrinjs]

2023 24H of Le Mans - All you need to know

It's almost time for Le Mans! Tomorrow it's test days and next week we're racing!

This year we see the 91st running of the oldest active endurance race in the world. Its inaugural race was in 1923 which means this year its it’s 100th anniversary, this means it’s the Centenary Edition. the 24 Hours of Le Mans is recognised as the most prestigious and gruelling test for innovations and improvements in motorsport technology.

It’s not only a special edition because of the 100th anniversary, but also because we’re seeing the most cars in the top class in a while. 16 cars will take the start, representing the biggest manufacturers in the world; Ferrari, Porsche, Toyota, Cadillac, Peugeot & Glickenhaus.

Because it’s the Centenary edition, we have a special trophy for the overall winner as well. The 24 Hours of Le Mans, has sealed a partnership with the Monnaie de Paris. The oldest institution in France has thus created a unique Trophy, which will be awarded to the winner of the 2023 24 Hours of Le Mans.

Before the race it has travelled the world to places such as Goodwood, The International Concours of Elegance St.Moritz, Bahrain and more.

Before the race it has travelled the world to places such as Goodwood, The International Concours of Elegance St.Moritz, Bahrain and more.

History

You might know Le Mans for the running starts. A type that has been used for many types of racing. When the start flag dropped drivers had to run across the track to their cars, climb in, start the car and drive away.

Those kinds of starts were obviously rather unsafe. Drivers would rush to fasten their seat belts to get as fast of a start as possible. This was the reason why it was banned in English racing from 1962.

In 1969 Jacky Ickx decided to walk to his car instead of run, and then took the time to fasten his seat belt. This meant he effectively started last but he still ended up winning the race. In this same race, a driver named John Woolfe died on the first lap after he hadn’t secured his seat belt properly.

This meant it was abolished the following year. Nowadays this type of standing start is only used in Endurance Motorcycle racing. Nowadays at Le Mans, a rolling start is used where cars line up alongside each other at a slow pace and start to race once the green flag is dropped.

The 24H of Le Mans has a rich history, but not a very pretty one in some parts. Back in 1955 one of the biggest tragedies in motorsports occurred. On the straight around the pit wall a huge collision occurred. Usually referred to as the 1955 Le Mans disaster, 84 people died and over 120 were injured. For many countries this meant an immediate ban on motorsport, though a lot of those bans were lifted within a year.

One country, that did not lift the ban, is Switzerland. In 2009 a proposal to lift the ban was defeated by the Swiss Parliament but in 2015 the ban was relaxed for electric vehicles only. Which meant Formula E could race on the streets of Switzerland, even though the ban was technically still there. Now in 2022, at the end of May the ban was finally lifted and motorsport is allowed again in Switzerland.

Please proceed with caution, the Wikipedia page includes one uncensored picture of the incident. The BBC documentary includes footage and pictures and the Reddit post does not include any pictures or videos but does link to the them.

/u/CookieMonsteFL made a post about the incident

The Deadliest Crash Is a BBC documentary on the 1955 Le Mans disaster

Wikipedia Page about the incident

Some more documentaries and movies on Le Mans’ history:

Truth in 24 and Truth in 24 II - The story of Audi’s victories against testing conditions and the might of Peugeot in 2008 and 2011.

Michael Fassbender: Road To Le Mans Season 1 and 2, Season 3, Season 4

Our Return: A documentary of our road to Le Mans 2015 - Porsche’s youtube documentary about their return to Le Mans and their eventual win.

McLaren at Le Mans: Pursuit of Perfection - The story behind McLaren's 1995 victory

The fastest ever lap at the Circuit de la Sarthe by Kamui Kobayashi

The Track

The track that is currently used is 13.6 kilometers long. It combines the permanent Ford Chicanes, pit straight, under the Dunlop bridge and through to tetre rouge as well as normal everyday roads of the Mulsanne straight through to Indianapolis and Arnage.

The track used to have a 6km long straight where Group C prototypes could reach up to 400km/h. This was changed in 1990 as the FIA required the track to have a straight no longer than 2km to be sanctioned. This is why nowadays two chicanes can be found on the Mulsanne straight. The fastest lap ever on the track was driven by Kamui Kobayashi with a 3:14.791 in 2017.

If you have the time, try to get familiar with the corner names as that’s often how commentators will refer to them.

T1, T2 etc stands for turns 1, 2 etc.

MP1, MP2 etc stands for the Marshall posts. This is important as yellows are often located by race control under the marshall posts.

Points

The race is part of the World Endurance Championship and this means there are also points to score for that championship. The winner of the race will receive 50 points, meaning this race means a lot in the championship.

Points to score:

Women at Le Mans

All credit for the info in here goes to Twitter user @smokingpuppy841 he created these two threads: Women at Le Mans & Why Women Were Banned at Le Mans

This year Lilou Wadoux is one of the women to compete at the 24H of Le Mans. in 2021 year she turned heads when she managed to completely destroy the field in one of the support series at Le Mans. In the French Porsche Sprint Challenge, she beat the field in qualifying by several seconds and then went on to win the race by a huge margin. Within just five years she went from racing in a Peugeot 206 to racing in a World Championship.

Last year she raced in LMP2 but for this year she switched to GTE as she has become a Ferrari Factory driver. This season she already took a win and hopes to do so again at Le Mans.

In 1930 Marguerite Mareuse and Odette Siko become the first women to compete at Le Mans, they finished 7th overall and second in their class.

Odette Siko also finished 4th overall in 1932 and took the win in her class which makes her the best finishing woman at Le Mans. In 1935 a record of 10 women competed at Le Mans, Anne-Cécile Rose-Itier was the best placed of them when she finished 18th overall and third in class.

Unfortunately in 1957 women were prohibited from participating. In 1956 Annie Bousquet, who was known as a spectacular but risky driver, tragically lost her life in the 12 Hours of Reims. As well as driving, Bousquet was also responsible for the preparation work, which involved picking up the car the day before and driving it 500km through the night to the race.

She started the race, but unfortunately, tragedy unfolded when her car would roll on lap 17 after it lost a wheel. She broke her neck and passed away immediately. Following the 1955 disaster which nearly ended motorsport, the ACO were very nervous about another accident. These nerves were only heightened by another tragedy at the 1957 Mille Miglia which saw the Italian government intervene to prevent a repeat.

These worries, combined with Bousquet’s reputation as a risky driver, meant they banned women from the event. A woman hadn’t even competed at Le Mans since 1951, which madethe ban, kind of pointless. The ban was eventually lifted in 1971 and this yearwe will see 5 women at the start again. Rahel Frey, Sarah Bovy and Michelle Gatting share a car in the GTE Am class while Lilou Wadoux also drivers in the same class. Doriane Pin drives in the LMP2 class.

All the women competing at Le Mans this year have already taken a podium in the regular season. While Lilou Wadoux even took two with a 2nd and 1st place. Expectations are high as all these women have the pace to win their respective classes.

Qualifying

Just like last year we will see the Hyperpole format. This sees a one hour session on Wednesday evening where all cars of all classes are allowed on track to set a time. The top 8 cars of all classes (Hypercar, LMP2, GTE AM) at the end of the session move on to the Hyperpole session on Thursday evening. This sets the top of the grid for each class. The remaining order is already decided by the one hour session on Wednesday. During the one hour qualifying session every team is allowed to nominate two drivers that can set a lap time.

Refuelling is forbidden during the Hyperpole.

For the LMGTE Am category, only a Bronze driver can participate in the Hyperpole.

Any car causing a red will have all or some laps deleted

Any car causing a red will not be allowed to rejoin the qualifying session

Schedule

This is all in local time which is CEST/GMT+2. Here’s a link to the detailed schedule in PDF version.

Sunday June 5th

10:00 – 13:00 FP1 (Official Test Day) 15:30 – 18:30 FP2 (Official Test Day)

Wednesday June 8th

14:00 – 17:00 FP1 19:00 – 20:00 Qualifying 22:00 – 00:00 FP2

Thursday June 9th

15:00 – 17:00 FP3 20:00 – 21:30 Hyperpole 22:00 – 00:00 FP4

Saturday June 11th

12:00 – 12:15 Warm Up 16:00 – 16:00  Race (24H)

Support Series

Not only WEC will be racing the coming week, also on the agenda are:

Ligier European Series

Porsche Carrera Cup

Ferrari Challenge

Road To Le Mans (Le Mans Cup)

Regulations

Balance Of Performance

As both the Hypercar class and the GTE AM class have several manufacturers running in the class, there’s a balance of performance in place. BoP” was introduced by the FIA with the aim of achieving a level playing field for the different vehicle concepts.

After an initial grading by the FIA, the performance data of the vehicles are acquired during the races via telemetry in order to adjust the balance of performance. This data input is automatically analysed and incorporated into the “BoP”. The most frequently used means of adjusting the performance level is through adding or subtracting weight as well as increasing or limiting the engine output through a restrictor or boost.

Here’s a short video on BoP

Tyre Allocation

Down below you can see the tyre allocation for dry weather tyres. GTE Pro is crossed out as that class does not exist anymore. Wet weather tyres aren’t limited. This is tyres, not sets. This makes it 14 sets for LMP2 & Hypercar during the race for example. Meaning the tyres will definitely need to be double stinted at times.

Drive Time

The maximum driving time for each driver is limited to 4h for any period of 6h. Every driver has to drive a minimum of 6H across the whole race or the team will be penalised. Every driver is only allowed to drive a maximum of 14H across the whole race.

What's a stint?

A stint is the time the car spends on the track between pit stops. So when tyred are “double stinted” at Le Mans, it means the driver didn't change their tyres during the last stop and only refuelled. Also allowed, is only changing two tyres on the car.

Safety Car Rules

The safety car rules for this year's race have been completely revised. These changes have been made in hope of having less influence on the race. As previously being caught by the wrong safety car could loose the teams a lot of time.

However, these new rules could be a disadvantage for the class leader as it does bring cars closer together. Some critisicse these new rules as they will “manufacture battles at the front.”

When the order is given to deploy the Safety Cars, all marshal posts will display waved yellow flags, and “SC” boards. Pit exit will be closed, and the pit exit light turned red, while the pit entry will remain open.

There will be 3 safety cars, starting from their respective positions, (as can be seen on the track map below). They will join the track regardless of where the overall leader is. All the competing cars must then form up in line behind the Safety Cars no more than five car lengths apart.

Pit exit green light will be turned on after the last car in line behind a Safety Cars has passed Safety Car Line 2, to allow all cars at pit exit to rejoin the track at an appropriate speed until they reach the queue behind that Safety Car.

When the Race Director deems it is safe to proceed with the merging process, the race control message ‘Incident clear – Prepare for Merging’ will pop up. This is followed by the Pit entry being closed Then safety Car B and Safety Car C will proceed to turn on their green lights, then cars which were positioned behind Safety Car B and Safety Car C will overtake their respective Safety Car and will continue as quickly as possible without compromising safety and without overtaking between themselves until they reach the line behind Safety Car A.

Once this is done, a pass around will be started. Any car that has their class leader behind them in the safety car queue will be allowed to pass the safety car.

After this the drop back procedure starts, first in line are the LMP2s. Race control will notify “Drop Back LMP2”, then all LMP2 cars will pull to the right-hand side of the track, then the rest of the cars, will overtake them to take position behind the Safety Car. Then the LMP2 cars will join the line again.

Once this is done, race control will notify “Drop Back LMGTE”. LMGTE cars will drop to the right side just like the LMP2s did. The rest of the cars will overtake them to take position behind the SC.

Once this is done it means that all Hypercars are together at the front, followed by all LMP2s and then the GTEs.

This wave around procedure won't be used in the last 60 minutes of the race.

Red Flag Rules:

During red flags it is not allowed to work on the car, only if allowed by the race director for safety reasons teams are allowed to change the tyres.

Slowzones:

To not immediately neutralize the complete field in case of an accident or debris. There's slowzones in place. The track is divided into 9 zones, when a slowzone is active cars will have to adjust their speed to 80 kph.

It is possible to have several slowzones going on at the same time. For example when an accident happens on the border of a slowzone, it is likely both zones will be deployed.

Penalties:

Speeding in the pitlane during Practice or Warm Up results in a fine of 100 euros for each kph over the limit. Besides that the driver's lap times leading up to the infringement are deleted. During the race the 1st infringement will result in either a drive through (between 60 and 70kph) or a 5 sec stop & go penalty (70kph+). The 2nd infringement will result into another drive through (between 60 and 70kph) or a 10 sec stop & go penalty (70kph+). The third infringement will result into a dsq in both cases.

It is prohibited to spin the wheels when a car leaves its pit, this will result into a stop & go. Aside from that refuelling may only be done when the car is completely on the ground which means tyres can't be changed during refuelling.

Links

Here’s a link to the regulations for this year’s race

Here’s a link to this year’s WEC regulations

Here’s a link to the noticeboard

Here’s a link to the timing results

Here’s a link to committee decisions

Media Guide to WEC

Might seem like a weird one to link but it’s really interesting to read. It goes into further depth about classes, and talks about previous winners etc

Entry List

R/WEC Scratchpad - This is the landingspage, you'll be able to find the scratchpad for practice & qually and for the race here

By this you’re able to catch up on any missed action, penalties and retirements. Obviously it’s difficult following a 24H race in its whole so this is a great way to catch up.

The Classes

The WEC grid consists of three different classes during the complete season, those are Hypercar, LMP2 & GTE. However for Le Mans two subclasses join the race. Neither of those score points for the championship (LMP2 Pro/Am & Innovative Car/Garage 56)

Each class has its own driver requirements, meaning both Amateur drivers and Pro drivers will be on track together.

Hypercar

Red number board with “Hypercar” next to it.

The current top class in endurance sportscar racing is “Hypercar”. This combines cars built to the LMH (Le Mans Hypercar) and LMDh (Le Mans Daytona h) specifications.

The ultimate aim of the ACO, FIA and IMSA is for these two types of car to compete against each other in the FIA WEC and in the IMSA WeatherTech SportsCar Championship and, therefore, to race in both the 24 Hours of Le Mans and the Rolex 24 at Daytona.

LMH (Toyota, Ferrari, Peugeot, Glickenhaus & Vanwall)

These regulations leave scope for a wide variety of architectures and allow a front-axle hybrid system to be fitted. They are designed to a strict set of requirements dictating maximum power, drag coefficient, and weight.

LMDh (Porsche & Cadillac)

In LMDh, the backbone of the car – i.e. the whole car minus the internal combustion engine, the body and the hybrid system – will be supplied by one of four chassis manufacturers: Dallara, Multimatic, Ligier or Oreca.

The driver line ups in this class consist of only pro drivers, with all drivers rated platinum or gold. Technically, lower rated drivers are allowed in the class, but that’s not likely to happen.

LMP2

Blue number board with “P2” next to it.

The LMP2 class features a spec drivetrain and gearbox, using a Gibson V8 producing 400kW, and a selection of three chassis to choose from, of which the Oreca 07 has been the chassis of choice. So much, that every single LMP2 car on this year’s entry list is an Oreca

Driver’s line-ups have to consist of at least one Bronze or Silver driver. When one of the drivers is bronze rated a car is automatically scored in LMP2’s sub class “LMP2 Pro/Am”

A Pro/Am car is easily recognised by the “Pro/Am” sign under the car number

GTE AM

Orange number board with “AM” next to it.

This is the last year we’ll see the GTEs at Le Mans as next year the GT clash switches to GT3 cars.

Although there is no Pro category, the driver quality in GTE-Am is still incredibly high. The grid features factory drivers, young stars, experienced champions, and every level of experience in between. Each car features one Bronze and one additional Bronze or Silver rated driver.

Innovative Car/Garage 56

Black number board with “IC” below it.

Garage 56, is reserved for innovative cars. In recent years we’ve also seen a modified LMP2 car that allowed paraplegic drivers to race. The car was modified and fitted with a braking, clutch and throttle system controlled by a hand-controlled steering wheel.

The Garage 56 entry runs outside the official classification, and will start last no matter where they qualify. This year it will host a Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 entered by the Hendrick Motorsports team for its maiden appearance at the 24 Hours of Le Mans.

This is a heavily modified version of the Next Gen NASCAR that competed in the 2022 Cup Series. The car will be symbolically numbered #24 and driven by Jenson Button, former Formula One World Champion, Mike Rockenfeller, winner of the 2010 Le Mans 24 Hours, and Jimmie Johnson, a seven-time NASCAR Cup Series champion.

Spotters guide

I used to make my own ones but there’s no use in making one myself when @GrosiakMateusz already makes perfect ones. You can find it on spotters.guide. The planned release date is June 6th.

Where to Watch?

Official stream OUTSIDE US ONLY - The Le Mans package gives you access to all WEC sessions (Practice, Qualifying, Warm Up and the Race) with a choice of on boards. It’s a rip-off quite honestly, it costs 13 euros and the platform is prone to crashing. If you’re buying I’d recommend just buying for the rest of the season, usually WEC will put up a discount code - PAID

Multiviewer F1 (Source) - The developer of this app says their goal is to get it ready before Le Mans. It will be integrated with FIAWEC.TV - PAID (Need FIAWEC.TV subscription)

Robin Frijns server, I will be streaming the WEC Coverage, all sessions from qualifying on Wednesday evening - FREE

Eurosport will likely be broadcasting the event in a variety of locales throughout Europe. This will be updated when confirmed - FREE WITH ADS OR PAID DEPENDING ON WHERE YOU WATCH IT

Radio Le Mans will be streaming live radio for every session (Including the test days) - FREE

For American audiences, unfortunately the Official stream is geoblocked for your area. American and English-speaking Canadian audiences can access coverage through Motortrend On Demand. Motortrend should have a free trial so you can try that if needed. - PAID (BUT FREE TRIAL)

Complete Broadcast distribution list

Live Timing

This is Official Livetiming it’s okay, but I recommend using the Timing71 Beta extension

As said the creator of Multiviewer F1 is trying to integrate WEC into the app as well, this would also likely include live timing. If there’s an update on that, i’ll post it.

I hope this is all, but for any questions, my askbox is always open!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

DEAD WOOD: JOEL'S POV

A/N: After far too long, this one is back in action! I have missed writing this story so darn much and it feels great to be back with these characters. This interlude has been living in my wip folder for a damn year, and I am really exciting to finally be sharing it. It takes place immediately following the events of Part Five, and it marks the first time that we get to see things through Joel's eyes in this universe. (It also alludes to some things that I haven't expanded on within this story yet, but that I am so SO excited to.)

Series Masterlist

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: language, mention of character death, loss, grief, trauma, brief description of injury, Ellie is a snarky teenager, PLOT SPOILERS FOR TLOU, feel free to message me if you have questions (it's actually a lot more hopeful than the title makes it sound)

Summary: Home from the supply run, Joel contemplates how far he's come since arriving in Jackson... and hopes that it will be the same for you. Tommy and Ellie - of course - have thoughts and opinions on things, too.

By the time Joel got home after a quick stop at the clinic, it was past seven, the house - and Ellie’s garage - both standing dark and empty against the beginnings of night. 

She must be out with friends. Good. 

It had taken a few years, but he was finally in a place where her absence didn’t immediately put him on edge. When they first settled into the house on Rancher Street, Joel would insist that Ellie stay at Tommy and Maria’s anytime he was gone overnight. Even the walls and the close knit community couldn’t fully satisfy that need to know that she was safe then. But now a note stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet telling him where she’d gone was more than sufficient. 

Which was exactly what he found when he entered the kitchen. Plucking the piece of paper from the fridge door and leaning against the counter, he read the girl’s hastily scrawled words. 

Joel, 

Not sure when you’re getting back but I might not be here when you do. Staying with some friends tonight and tomorrow. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Movie night - don’t forget!

-Ellie 

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. Like I’d ever forget movie night, kiddo. 

Getting that back - that time with her where they could just be a family, laughing together and watching some movie that was made fifteen years before she was born, that time that both of them desperately craved where they could put down all the things they carried and all the things they’d gone through even if only for 120 minutes at a time - that was a gift he would never take for granted. Her eventual forgiveness and understanding, once he’d finally explained his reasoning for the choices he made, was everything to Joel. And it was still fresh. The two of them were still awkwardly trying to find their way back to the kind of relationship they had before the lie came to light. But it was a chance that Joel never imagined he’d get, and it wasn’t one he would ever squander. 

He raised his hand to stick Ellie’s note back on the refrigerator door for now, but paused before using the same faded orange Longhorns magnet that she had used to secure it. Instead, he dug into his back pocket and pulled out a new one. Turning it over in his palm, Joel glanced down at the yellow letters spelling out Wyoming and remembered the look on your face when he handed you one identical to it that morning. 

It wasn’t really a smile, more like the framework of one, a hint of what it would look like fully fleshed out. It was different from the ones he’d seen you wear while working in the bakery or waving to someone on the street. Those were pleasantries that you were refamiliarizing yourself with. This one touched your eyes, softening them for a few seconds. It made Joel wonder what he unearthed with that small gesture - what part of your former life he’d been able to reach and awaken, at least partially. He didn’t bother with wondering what it meant that he’d taken an identical magnet for himself. 

With a sigh, he used the gas station souvenir to tack up Ellie’s note where he’d found it. Keeping his injured arm down at his side, he reached to open the cupboard next to the fridge and pulled down a glass and the bottle he kept there. He let out a grunt as he twisted the cap off, needing to use both hands to do so and being punished for the miniscule movement with a throb of discomfort through his bicep. Shit, that hurts. 

Though your work had held up just fine all the way back to Jackson, the wound had still garnered a hiss and a wince from the nurse on duty at the clinic. Using a cloth and clear grain alcohol, she’d carefully cleaned between and around the stitches, telling him that he was lucky he had someone with him who knew what they were doing, because the cut was deep and without closing it properly, he would have lost a lot more blood than he did. Slathering the area with an antiseptic cream, she re-wrapped his arm and sent him on his way, recommending that he not get the stitches wet for a good two days. 

Gonna have to stick my arm outta the shower I guess. First thing’s first, though. 

But before he could finish making himself a drink, he was interrupted by the call of his name. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice joined the stomp of his boots as he climbed the porch stairs and let himself through the front door. “Hey, Joel? Where-” 

I shoulda known he’d be over. 

Holly, the nurse at the clinic, was close friends with Maria. There was no way that she didn’t radio over to let Maria know that she’d just taken care of her brother-in-law. And that meant that Tommy knew, too. 

“Kitchen,” Joel answered, cutting his brother’s question short and reaching into the cupboard for a second glass. Setting it on the counter, he opened the freezer and scooped a few ice cubes into his palm before dividing them between the two tumblers. They clinked against the cut glass but fell silent as Joel poured a few fingers of whiskey in each, turning around in time to see Tommy appear in the doorway. “Hey, little brother.”

Tommy’s eyes were alert as he gave Joel the once over, his heightened focus settling on the bandage on his arm. “Shit, you alright? Holly said-” 

“M’fine, Tommy.” He picked up one of the glasses and handed it over, the younger man accepting it with visible relief. “Just a cut. Fell into some broken glass.”

Tommy raised one eyebrow. “You fell, huh?” 

Joel rolled his eyes with a gruff groan. “Couple’a infected caught us by surprise at the eye doctor. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.” He leaned back against the counter and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a swig.

“Jesus.” Tommy took a drink, too, bending forward to rest his elbows on the island in the center of the kitchen. He set his glass down but kept his fingers around it, forehead furrowing as he spoke your name in the form of a question. “She’s alright, too? Holly didn’t say anything about-” 

Joel shook his head. “She’s fine, Tommy. Didn’t even have to stop at the clinic, so Holly didn’t see her.” He took another small drink, letting the rich amber liquid coat his tongue before swallowing. “She went straight back to her place from the stables.”

“Good.” Tommy nodded and blew out a breath, the last of the worry leaving his expression. “That’s good.” He cleared his throat and swirled the contents of his glass, watching the ice slide around the sides. “And uh… she did alright?” His eyes came back up then. “I mean, dealin’ with the infected and all?”  

Joel recalled the way you snapped immediately into action, shifting seamlessly from defense to attack, muscle memory taking over and guiding your blade exactly where it needed to go without hesitation. 

Alright’s an understatement. 

You’d had a moment of panic in the aftermath, but though Joel was certain that was what Tommy was asking about with the addition of “and all”, he decided not to consider it in his response. Your explanation was solid. No harm had been done, and he didn’t think it warranted mentioning. Nor did the fact that he had only been knocked through the glass display case because he’d glanced in your direction first to make sure you didn’t need help. 

We’re both fine. No point in worryin’ him over nothin’. She’s no more of a liability on a run than I am. She just… she needs time. Like we all did. 

“Yeah,” he answered, brows pinched together as he took another drink. He shrugged his bandaged arm out in front of him. “She even patched me up once we were in the clear.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Well, shit.” The tiniest twitch of his mustache gave away a hidden smirk, and he used the hand holding his glass to point at Joel. “You mean you actually let someone take care of you?” 

Joel rolled his eyes again. “Shut it, Tommy.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the younger man setting his glass on the island to lift both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just messin’ with you, big brother.” He smiled, a smaller chuckle slipping through it as his hands dropped to the counter. “Really, though.” He nodded. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” 

“Yeah.” Your near-smile flashed in Joel’s memory again as his eyes shifted to the magnet on the refrigerator. “Me too.” The kitchen fell silent for a handful of seconds, both men finishing their drinks before Joel spoke again. “Hey, do… do you remember that time you gave me a hand takin’ down the old oak tree in the yard?” 

Tommy blinked, clearly surprised by the question, but didn’t ask why Joel had brought it up. Instead, he tilted his head, brow furrowed as he sorted through his memories. The moment he dug the right one from its hiding spot, his expression changed. The creases in his forehead smoothed out and gave way to curved lines around his mouth as he broke into a smile. 

“Yeah.” He let out a huff of laughter, hanging his head and letting it shake from side to side before lifting it again. When he did he was still smiling, though there was a bittersweet shadow behind it. I know. You miss her too. “I remember us catchin’ hell for it.” 

We sure did. Joel tipped the bottle to fill both glasses with a half measure, then screwed the cap back on and put the bottle back in the cabinet it came from. 

The tree in question had been Sarah’s favorite. A swing hung from one of its branches, and Joel had tacked scraps of wood into the trunk that she used as footholds to scamper up so she could sit in the Y-shaped split in the center. And though she was only seven at the time, she had put up quite a fight when it came to taking it down. Joel could still picture the determined scowl on her face as she sat against the trunk. She had her scrawny arms crossed over her chest as she informed her father and her uncle that she wouldn’t let them kill her tree. What she didn’t know was that the tree was diseased, and that if left alone, not only would it become a safety hazard, but it ran the risk of infecting other nearby trees. 

He matched Tommy’s smile. “That girl all but tied herself to that damn trunk.” Joel always had the suspicion that if she had the time and an accomplice to help her with the knots, she would have. “She could be persistent, huh?” 

Tommy hummed. “Wonder where she got that from. What is it they say about apples again?” He laughed, but then curiosity got the better of him. “What…” He coughed to clear his throat. “What made you think’a that?” 

I’m gettin’ to it. “You remember how I had to prove to her that the tree was sick? Took my pocket knife and scratched the bark so she could see it was already dyin’ underneath?” She had gasped when the scratch test revealed a grayish, ashy underlayer, her eyes going wide and her bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill as her outrage instantly turned to fear for the other trees in the yard. “I had to scrape ‘em all, show her the rest of ‘em were still green and alive, even though they all looked the same on the outside.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed and he swallowed. “Yeah… Where you goin’ with this, Joel?” 

“I been thinkin’ about how it’s like that for people, too. It was like that for me. It was like that for me for a long time, Tommy.” Tilting the glass in his hand, he watched the amber liquid collect in the corner of it, shining gold through the cut crystal where the overhead light struck. “Scratch test came up gray for years. Thought I’d never really feel anything again… Thought I was done.” 

Straightening the glass, he let its contents slosh back to cover the bottom before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. Honey and malt slid over his tongue, a subtle layer of smoke and spice following as he swallowed. Back in Boston, drinking wasn’t something he did for enjoyment or relaxation. It wasn’t for savoring or even tasting, really. Then he drank to forget. To sleep. To turn it all off. Here in Jackson though, he could share a drink with his brother and remember. 

Remember what life tasted and looked and felt like. Remember his daughter. Remember who he was beneath all the dead wood around his heart.  

“Yeah.” Tommy’s eyes were on his own glass, a frown pulling at his mouth and etching creases between his eyebrows again. “I know.” He cleared his throat and took a long swig, finishing his drink with a wince that cracked into a fool’s gold grin - one that Joel knew was covering feelings of guilt and empathy and other things Tommy still felt compelled to atone for even though Joel had tried his best to lay those things to rest in the years since their reunion. We were no good to each other like that, little brother. We would have just broken each other. I don’t blame you for leavin’. Not anymore. Tommy reached over, grin still stretched across his face but growing more genuine as he clapped Joel on the shoulder of his good arm. “But you ain’t done, you old fucker. Not yet.” 

That was thanks almost entirely to Ellie and they both knew it. The girl was determined, borderline relentless, same as Sarah had been with the tree. She had been the one to keep scratching, keep digging, keep checking for the hint of green under all that twisted, lifeless gray. And when she found it, all the things that he thought had disappeared started coming out of their dormancy.

Things like jokes and laughter. Memories. The capacity to care deeply for others again. Things like movie nights. The things that made surviving the worst worthwhile. 

It was also thanks in part to Jackson - and to Tommy and Maria for welcoming him and Ellie into their lives. Some days it terrified him, allowing himself to have so much to lose again. There were still times he worried that he had peeled back too many of those hardened layers. That he’d let his guard down too much, exposed his heart to happiness for too long and that it would all be lost to blight. But even on those days he knew what Tommy had just said to be true - that he wasn’t done yet. 

And neither is she. 

Joel spoke your name then, nodding solemnly. “I think it’s been like that for her for a long time, too.” 

Tommy sighed. “Yeah.” He finished his drink and walked over to set the empty glass in the sink. “I got that impression, too.” Turning around, he tilted his head to one side. “You said she was alright on the trip though. Somethin’ happen?” 

Joel took a breath in through his nose, letting it back out slowly. “Just…” He tapped his pointer finger absently against the glass he still held. “I think I saw that  in her. The green underneath. I think… bein’ here is… it’s helpin’ her.” Even if she’s got a long way to go. “It’s… she’s still in there.”  

You were. And Joel realized, for the first time since meeting Tess all those years ago in Boston, that he wanted to know that person - the person who showed him the hint of a genuine smile, the person who carefully and gently patched him up, the person who shared a coveted instant coffee packet with him to pass the time and stay warm on a chilly night. And that scares the hell outta me.  

“Well that’s-” Tommy’s smile had nothing but warmth behind it that time. “That’s real good to hear.” He stepped away from the counter and towards the kitchen door then, bringing his hands together. “Well, I’ll get outta here so you can get yourself cleaned up and all. Just had to make sure you were good after we heard from Holly.” 

Joel nodded, following him out into the living room. “Yeah. How’d you put it? Thanks for still givin’ a shit about me?” He heard his brother snort out a laugh before turning around to face him again. 

“Yeah, exactly.” He paused then, the joking smile falling away to reveal something more serious yet still full of relief and warmth. When he spoke again his words were quiet, but they made a big impact. “It’s real good to hear you talk about Sarah again, too.” 

With that, he left, and Joel was left to respond to the empty room. “Yeah. It is.” 

–  –  – 

Twenty minutes later he was drying off from the shower when he heard the sound of the back door opening, followed by the call of his name. 

“Joel? You home?” Ellie’s voice was muffled by the closed door and the towel that he was dragging over his hair. 

Ellie? Thought she was stayin’ out tonight? 

He called back. “Yeah. Gimme five minutes, I’ll be right down.”  

Moving from the bathroom into his bedroom, Joel pulled clean clothes and underwear from his dresser - a pair of thick navy blue sweatpants along with a dark gray t- shirt and a pair of wool socks. Easing the shirt carefully over his wrapped bicep, he sighed, knowing that as soon as Ellie saw it she would react. She hated seeing him injured, as anyone would hate to see someone they cared about get hurt. But Joel knew that in her case, it was more than that. In her case, it reminded her of those dark days in Colorado, when she did all she could to keep him alive and still wasn’t sure he would make it through the night. 

It won’t always be like that, though. ‘Least I hope not. For her sake. 

The  thought of covering it up with a loose fitting flannel or long sleeved shirt didn’t even occur to him, though. After coming clean about everything that happened in Salt Lake City with the Fireflies and the doctor they were working with, Joel made a solemn vow to himself that he’d never withhold the truth from her again. Even when it might hurt. Especially when it might hurt. Because he knew that nothing he’d done in that hospital had hurt her more than the lie he told her on the outskirts of Jackson. 

And I’ll never do that to her again. 

As he made his way down the stairs, he heard her moving around in the kitchen, the sound of plates being set on the counter meeting his ears. “I’m making sandwiches,” she yelled when the fourth step from the bottom creaked under his weight. “You want one?” 

“Sure, kiddo.”  What happened to stayin’ with your friends? Everything alright?” He wasn’t trying to distract her by keeping her talking before she saw his arm, but Joel wanted her to hear it in his voice that he was okay. 

She groaned. “Kat and Dina are having some kind of stupid drama and I didn’t wanna get sucked into it so I decided to come home. You know, they’re both important to me but sometimes they can just - Fuck! Joel! What the?” 

He’d walked into the kitchen at the same time that she looked up from the slices of bread that she was piling with leftover chicken, the sight of him making her stop what she was doing and scramble around the island to stand in front of him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s…” He held up both hands, only wincing a little at the pull of his stitches when he lifted his arm. “I’m fine, Ellie. Just a cut.” 

“Well …” Her eyes were wide but she tore  them from the bandage to look up at him. “Well, what happened? I thought it was supposed to be an easy run?” 

“It was. But you know as well as I do that easy runs can turn, yeah?” He reached forward, placing his hand on her shoulder and tilting his head to the side. “Hey. I’m okay, kiddo.” Giving her a light squeeze, he waited for her to nod and accept what he was saying, and then he shot a glance at the half-finished sandwiches. “C’mon, I’m starvin’. Let’s eat and I’ll fill you in.” 

Just like he did the night that he and Tommy brought you into town, Joel sat down and told her everything that happened at the optometrist’s office - how the pair of infected had seemingly come from nowhere and were suddenly on the two of you, how the one that lunged at him managed to knock him backwards and through a glass case, how you had made sure that the wound was cleaned and tended to as best as you could. And though she had been concerned and rattled at the beginning of his story, Ellie was wearing something close to a smirk as he finished. 

“Oh.” She bit off a mouthful of her sandwich, raising her eyebrows as she chewed and speaking again before she swallowed. “So you like… really trust this chick, huh?” 

Joel clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Her too? First Tommy and now- “That’s your comment? Not ‘Well I’m glad you had someone there to help you, Joel’?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes right back. “Yeah, yeah that too. But I mean…” She gave a casual, one-shouldered shrug. “First you let her take care of you, then you decide to both sleep at the same time instead of taking shifts?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “You never do that unless it’s me or Tommy.” Something dawned on her then, and she turned mid-chew toward the sink, gesturing towards it with the hand that still held what was left of her sandwich. “Wait. Is that why there’s two glasses in there? Did she come over when you got back to town?” 

“What? No. Ellie…” He sighed, and shook his head. “No. There’s two glasses in the sink because Tommy was here earlier, not-” 

“Well you should invite her over for dinner then. As a thank you-” She emphasized her intention to silence his protest. “- for sewing you up, you know?” 

Joel took a bite of his food, chewing it slowly to buy himself more time before answering. The idea of having you in his home, sharing a meal, talking and laughing - he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it. But I don’t know if she… 

He thought back to his own first few months in Jackson and how skittish he was every time someone would try to include him in anything that wasn’t directly related to security or survival. It all still seemed so impractical. Cookouts and movie nights and holidays while the world outside the walls continued to crumble? And then there was the guilt. That grating, shredding near-constant feeling that he shouldn’t be there - shouldn’t be safe, shouldn’t be happy or comfortable or even alive - not when Tess didn’t get to be there too. Not when Sarah never had a chance to. You hadn’t said much about the things you’d been through or the people you’d lost, other than that you’d recently lost your nephew. But Joel knew from experience that while those devastating wounds never fully healed, they did become less raw when they were given some time.   

I’d like it. But I don’t know if she’s ready for somethin’ like that. He swallowed and brought a hand up to wipe his mouth. Yet. 

“Maybe when the weather’s nicer an’ we can cook outside.” He got up from the table and took his plate with him, setting it in the sink next to the two glasses. 

The scrape of chair legs on the floor told him that Ellie had gotten up, too, the girl appearing at his elbow to stack her plate atop his. “What does the weather have to do with-” He shot her a look then and she rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. But we’re circling back to this in June.” 

Joel leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Speakin’ of circling back, you said somethin’ about your friends fightin’? You wanna talk about that?” He lifted one eyebrow as she shot him a look of her own. 

“I do not.” 

Joel snorted a laugh. “Alright, then. Just try not to go breakin’ too many hearts, yeah? You don’t-” 

Without missing a beat, Ellie grabbed the dish towel that was hanging on the oven handle, balling it up and throwing it at his face. “Shut up.” She was laughing too, though, bending down to pick up the towel after Joel had batted it away. “So stupid.” Straightening back up with an exaggerated sigh, she whipped the towel onto the countertop. “On that note, I’m gonna get outta here.” She glanced at his arm, mouth dipping into a quick frown that was gone by the time she looked back up at his face. “I’m glad you’re home, Joel. Have a good night.” 

He smiled, chest warming as he did. “G’night, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that she turned and was nearly out the door when something caught her eye and she stopped in front of the refrigerator. “Hey, you got a new magnet.” She pointed at the note she’d left him, now stuck up with the square-ish shape of Wyoming. “I used the cowhead one but this one’s-” She looked over her shoulder, a smirk beginning to grow. “You brought home a souvenir from your trip, huh? So you could remember it? Any reason for that?” 

Joel narrowed his eyes at her, but all it did was pull a laugh out of her. “Good night, Ellie.”  She laughed all the way down the back porch steps but Joel didn’t mind. She ain’t wrong.

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[sterlingsilver-starlight]

You are a Gift ❤️‍🩹

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Female Reader

Genres: Hurt/comfort, angst, drama, fluff, romance

Content Warnings: emotional trauma (reader has verbally abusive mother), very brief implication of past suicidal thoughts, briefly racist language/discussion of racist behavior (reader is mixed white/Asian) mild language, intimate moments (heated makeout scene, but nothing further)

Word Count: 5938 words

Summary: After struggling with an abusive mother’s racist and oppressive behavior, Reader finds solace (and possibly more) in the arms of her closest friend, Seonghwa…

Inspirations: I listened to this emotional music mix and this piano tutorial version of Star 1117 while writing this :]

This was very comforting to write…this is the first fanfic I’ve written (though I’ve read plenty here and there ^^); I hope everyone can find someone like this in their life 🫶🏼

Also please note that this is in no way supposed to represent or depict the actual idol; this is just created for storytelling/entertainment purposes only :)

“Hey…what’s going on? Is everything alright?”

You slumped against the wall, head pounding as dizzy visions pranced about the room overhead. Your hands trembled at the slightest of sounds. Your eyes brimmed with tears that refused to fall, yet collected on your lashes like raindrops after the storm.

What even was real? What was life, anymore? What had it been?

Every step you took…only ever felt like it was one being taken backwards.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you were just a failure at life. A disappointment because you couldn’t keep straight even the most basic things.

You’d tried to drown out the noise as much as you could. But there was only so much you could play pretend with.

The chill in your spine ached like the fever dreams you’d been struggling to cope with the past few nights. Sweat pouring down your temples, constantly waking up in the middle of the night scared with tear-stained cheeks.

You had never meant to get sick. You had never meant to come home and spend the weekend recovering from a cold. And most of all, you had never meant to spread it to your sister.

So little could have prepared you for the awful things your mother would shout back, in spite and hatred that you could do little to deflect.

Except ignore, grit your teeth against, and eventually, cave into and cry silent tears to.

“We were having a great weekend until you had to go and get sick and get your sister sick!”

“I’ll bet you’re so glad you went to see that movie this week, huh? Maybe if you’d had some white friends you’d actually have known better than to walk in the cold like an idiot!”

“Stop pretending to be someone you’re not! All you do is act like you’re 120% Asian! Newsflash: You’re NOT, so get off it!”

There was no end. You bit your lip, fingers shaking furiously. There was no end to what might be said the next day.

Maybe this had all just been a horrible idea to bring him into it, too. You were just disturbing him. After all, isn’t that what she always said? That you were too sensitive to everything in plain —

“Y/n?”

You inhaled a shaky breath, desperately trying not to cry, but to hear him call your name, to hear someone call your name so calmly, as though you weren’t just a piece of trash left on the streets, triggered a dam of emotions.

“I-I…” you started, hoping he would still stay on the line after having been given the unintentional silent treatment for so long already.

“It’s okay. Go on. I’m right here. Talk to me, okay?”

You choked back a sob. “I-I’m sorry I’m such an inconvenience to you. I’m sorry for calling so suddenly, on such short notice, I…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t have anyone else to talk to right now, I’ve been in hell these past few days and I know I look like it. I feel like it. I’ve constantly been reminded how much I’ve screwed everyone’s lives up, to the point that I got so afraid that maybe…”

You couldn’t go on.

There was a light sigh on the other end. “They’re all settled in by now, right?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden shift in topic. “Y-yeah. W-why?”

“Pack some stuff in a bag. You’re staying with me for a few nights.”

Nothing else could have compelled you to gather clothes and spare toiletries in a duffel bag so quickly and so quietly, especially on a late Saturday night.

But when Seonghwa gave you advice so directly, you didn’t hesitate to see it through. He’d been one of your closest friends for what seemed like forever, even though it had only been slightly less than two years since you first encountered him walking to class one chilly winter morning. You smiled at the brief memory.

Headphones charged up, supplies ready to go for lecture, phone at the ready for impromptu sky snapshots, check threefold. You smiled at the glistening snow on the trees, the slight crunch your boots made with every step, the way the sun brightened the eyes of even —

There was a jolt, and before you knew it, you’d completely spazzed out and knocked into a fellow passersby. Pulling down your headphones, you turned around frantically. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

The stranger looked up at you with warm brown eyes that scrunched upward as he smiled. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good. I should have watched more carefully, no?” He chuckled lightly tapping near his ears, indicating your headphones.

Your eyes widened, cheeks burning crimson. “O-oh! Yeah…sorry about that! Once I hear a good song, I just really get lost in its melody, I guess!” You bit your lip, trying to look anywhere else besides this man’s general direction. He was really quite beautiful, though, the more you observed him: from the outline of his nose jutting out nicely from the soft curve of his eyes and round, full lips, to the delicate swoop of his jet-black, wavy hair.

“Anyway!” you started, realizing you’d been taking in his features much too long. “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you…?”

“It’s Seonghwa,” he replied softly. “Nice to meet you as well.”

“Seonghwa…” you tested the name on your tongue. “It’s a very nice name. I think it suits you very well.” You beamed up at him shyly.

Now it was his turn to blush. “T-thank you, yours as well…Y/n.”

You sighed as you packed the last pair of socks in your bag. Yes, it really had been that long already since you two had met, and it hadn’t taken an eclipse or anything nearly as occasional for the two of you to become as thick as thieves. For it had turned out that he was also a student at the university, so naturally, you started meeting up regularly, sometimes for study sessions, sometimes to explore the campus, sometimes just to talk about everything and nothing all at once.

And he was the trustworthy, empathetic kind of person as well. So much that, the first time things had really gone downhill back home for the weekend, you had felt dead certain he was the only person you knew who could be trusted with knowing such details. It wasn’t a logical conclusion, going straight off how long you’d known each other, or anything of the sort.

You could just feel it.

At first, you’d been deathly afraid that he might view you differently, worse even, if he knew what kind of dysfunctional shambles you were living under. But when he’d taken your hand that day and assured you that he wasn’t going anywhere, only then did you feel brave enough to tell him what was happening.

Fast forward to tonight, and something very similar was happening. The problem is, you realized, there were still secrets in the shadows that even he did not know of, and that you would rather die than attempt confessing to him.

You see, over the times you’d spent getting to know each other, getting to trust one another more and more, you’d slowly but surely found yourself developing feelings for him, but with how close and intimate your friendship was, you’d been determined never to say anything. Why chance it? Why chance losing a bond that was so precious, that had given you so much hope, so much strength through so much chaos?

“It probably wouldn’t matter, anyway,” you mumbled to yourself. This offer he’d made over the phone was probably just a one-time thing. You were sure that had the roles been reversed, you would be doing the same out of compassion.

You turned again towards your bedroom door, reveling and realizing in that moment all the hells and horrors you’d been an earwitness to for so many years. Most probably wouldn’t believe it when you said that the words your mother spoke, whether out loud to you face-to-face or within earshot from another room to your sister or father, were enough to make one consider taking their own life.

But it was true.

You hated how things had gotten to this point, but, you supposed, maybe most of it could be attributed to just growing older and becoming more aware, more dead set on educating yourself about the red flags and the signs that something, or someone, was toxic. That their atmosphere, their vibe, so to speak, was unhealthy for you to keep absorbing like secondhand cigarette smoke.

There wasn’t much you could do about it, though. You were a full-time university student whose campus happened to be close to your family’s house, so being the frugal young adult you aimed so much to be, you’d chosen off-campus housing with your parents for financial reasons. There were much bigger struggles out there, you’d convinced yourself, that you just didn’t want to tackle yet: juggling bills, paying for your living space, and so on. And while you had been able to save up a bit of money from your summer job, you needed to continue those habits as long as you could to make it all the more easier after you graduated and started working for a while, to ease your mind before graduate school.

A sharp pair of raps at your window startled the rambling trail of wondering memories. You jolted, having squatted the whole time by your bag just collecting things and your thoughts, and looked like a deer caught in headlights as you quickly turned to the glowing windowsill, curtains drawn back enough that they resembled billowing, flowing tendrils in the night.

Seonghwa’s smile might have been hidden by the backlight of the moon tonight, but you could still make out his almost toothless grin as he beamed back at you from the other side of the glass. You couldn’t help but return it as you slowly got up to open the window, realizing how grateful you were that your bedroom was on the first floor.

“So,” he started, looking up at you with a twinkle in his eyes, “are you ready?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You grabbed one of your bag straps tightly. “Yeah. I am.” You wore a firm-lipped smile as you carefully followed him out the window, taking one more quick look-around behind you to make sure nothing was too out of place — not that anyone would be checking for the next week, anyway. Since you had been getting over a cold, almost everyone (namely your mother and sister) had decided you were about as worth talking to as an infected might be in a zombie apocalypse series: enough to confirm alive-or-not status, and after that, nil.

Realizing this, you stopped behind him and tried not to panic already. He heard your lack of footsteps and stopped with you. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m feeling…fine now, but I should let you know,” you continued, backing away slightly to put more distance between the two of you, “I was getting over a cold recently, and —”

“Y/n, I’ll have you know that I’m not just gonna abandon you because you were feeling a little unwell. Everyone gets sick from time to time. Sure, it’s not the greatest thing to be feeling, but it’s certainly no reason to start treating you like you aren’t still, well, you. You’re still the Y/n I know and love, so that settles it.” He reached out and grabbed your hand, taking no apparent notice of the way that your heart was pounding in your throat at those words — or at the smooth warmth of his fingertips.

Don’t overthink it, he’s just saying those things from a place of friendship, remember?

“Come on, let’s go. My place isn’t too far from here, remember? Plus, it might be a good time for a walk.”

Once you made it to his apartment, you felt unease slowly dissipate from your body.

“Make yourself at home. I have no intention of kicking you out quickly, so stay here as long as you feel you need to.” He took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the hallway. You smiled, taking note of the fluffy pink headband with cat ears still hanging near the end; it’d been a birthday present to him not too long ago that you’d figured he would like since cats were something he could just about talk your ear off from.

Setting your bag down, you took a seat on one of the sofas in his living room, the open layout of the place allowing you to continue watching him as he moved his things around, flicked on the lamp near the sofa, and settled in next to you.

“So…” he clasped his hands together, rubbing them gingerly.

“So…?” you repeated playfully, already feeling a bit more lighthearted than you had just earlier.

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

You took a deep breath. “Well, you know how earlier I was saying I’ve been getting over being sick, right?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded sadly. “Well…my mom…she didn’t take too kindly to that when she found out. Like, at all. I had a mask on just to be safe when I was headed to my room after my shower, which is unlike me because I usually take it off when I’m home, but my sister spotted it and then pointed it out and then my mom took notice and, and —” You felt tears start pooling in your eyes again, and frantically put the back of a hand to your mouth to quell any sobs that threatened to come forward.

“Shh, shh…it’s okay,” Seonghwa assured you, rubbing one hand gently up and down your back, taking care with the other to pull away the shaky fist you had balled up by your lips. “Keep going, you’re doing great. Nothing and nobody is going to hurt you right now. It’s just you and me. Right here. Right now.”

His hand didn’t leave yours, his fingers slowly unwrapping your clenched ones until they were intertwined.

You swallowed, taken aback by his boldness. “M-my mom took notice, and from then on…it was like I was a prisoner of war being looked down upon every other minute. Even from behind my closed door, I could hear her spewing angrily how surely I had just gotten sick on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do anything while I was at home, how I just loved ruining everyone’s day and everyone’s weekend and how I never failed to not take care of myself and make everyone stressed about possibly catching something from me and…” You looked up at his round boba eyes with your own teary ones.

“And?” he questioned, eyes never leaving yours.

“And…” you stumbled, recalling more that you didn’t want to recall. “How I’m a fool for surrounding myself with people who aren’t white, even though I’m myself white. How…” I bit my lip, still looking into his eyes — for courage, for strength, for something deeper than what I’d been led all these years to believe existed within the eyes of someone viewed in my house as ethnically inferior.

“How?” he continued, urging you to keep going, no matter how hard it got in the middle, or near the end, or even in the beginning, of your words.

“How…I’m bringing shame to my family and convincing myself otherwise just to feel good. How…the friendships I’ve kept are…ridiculous because they’re mostly Asian, perpetuating the lies I tell myself about being mixed or wanting to identify as mixed, even though genetically I am mixed because my mom is half Asian, so by genetics that automatically makes me a quarter.” You broke down into soft sobs. “B-b-but that’s n-not even the worst p-part.”

He said nothing, but the squeeze he gave your hand was more than enough of a response. You worried about continuing, but at this point, you were already in too deep, so you figured you might as well put things out there while you still could.

“The worst part,” you trembled, “is that my own mother would rather die than see me one day in a relationship with someone who isn’t white. Like it would be doing some disgrace to her efforts with having married a white guy, my dad.” You shivered. “It’s just not fair, Hwa! Getting taunted that I pretend to be someone I’m not is one thing, having the friends I meet up with to go see a movie get made fun of and berated because of their ethnicity is another, but now it’s about the kind of person I might one day want to be involved romantically with? I can’t —” You ripped your hand from his to catch your face in both hands. “I can’t take this anymore, Hwa! It’s just not right!”

Uncontrollable crying resonated throughout the apartment for what felt like hours on end. The broken child inside of you was aching more and more with every passing second, half in disbelief of all the verbal and mental abuse and trauma you’d gone through for so many years, especially recently, and then half in shock that you weren’t already dead by now from collapse and grief and complete hopelessness.

“Maybe she was right…maybe I do deserve to just —”

“Stop it right now.” The solemn firmness of his statement knocked you out of a weeping daze instantly. He was firm, yes, and he could be firm, yes. But never authoritatively like this.

“What?” You brushed strands of hair out of your eyes, blinking back tears, lips trembling like hell had frozen over.

“Stop saying these horrible things about yourself. Even if they aren’t things you yourself said in the first place.” He took both of your hands away from your face, cupping your cheeks so that you were both looking each other in the eyes again.

“You are an amazing person, inside and out, and if she can’t see that because of something as trivial as you falling ill temporarily, then she is the fool, not you. She mentions how you’re bringing shame to the family by believing or supporting the people and the cultures you do? Well, she should be ashamed of herself for being mixed and yet being the one to dishonor it as much as she does. And as for that last point?”

He bent down so you were both at eye level, close enough now to watch every eyelash as it flickered up and down between blinks.

“That last point…I personally think that’s for you to decide, who you’re interested in and whatnot. Ignore the noise she brings into your head. It won’t always be there to cloud your thoughts. I know you wish you could have been able to foster a better relationship with her, but…” His eyes slowly welled with tears as well, making yours only brim more.

You hated seeing him cry.

“H-hwa…y-you’re crying…” you raised a hand to caress his cheek, wiping away a lone tear.

He smiled sadly. “For good reason.” His eyes widened more as he took you in. “And…”

“What is it?”

“You’ve never called me Hwa before.”

You smiled back softly. “I guess it just slipped out. Spur of the moment. But…you’re the only constant I have in my life right now. Like the stars.”

His cheeks warmed. “Then I guess it’s only fair to say that you are very much…the same, in my eyes.”

You bit your lip yet again, instantly reminded of the day you two had met when you were a nervous wreck and eager to look anywhere else as much as you could.

“Yes, really.” He repeated, as though answering your unspoken doubt. He continued smiling at you, no ill intent or manipulation locked away in those warm brown eyes, no hatred or malice brushing aside the pure kindness and love that somehow, you could just sense in his gaze.

“Then I…” It may very well have been now or never. You had never been more sure of anything in your life than you were at this very moment, and yet you had never been more unsure of anything, either.

Somehow he seemed to catch on. “Do what you need to do.”

Your breath hitched. “I’m afraid.”

“I already told you…I’m right here. Talk to me. Okay?”

You leaned in, the flicker of the lamp only adding to the small warmth nestled within this space that you two shared.

“Hwa, I…I don’t know how else to put this.”

“Try.”

“You…you feel like home.”

A smile. “I’m glad. Because so do you.”

His hands reached to grip yours, firmly but softly, before he leaned in slowly, closing his eyes. You followed suit, the last thing you saw being the trickle of a tear or two down his lashes, down his cheek, before you met his lips in a gentle kiss. You pulled away slowly, eyes as wide as dinner plates, checking with him silently to make sure it was okay.

To make sure this was real and reciprocated as you were, hopefully, not overreading into.

He smiled back, a small crinkle in his eyes as his view flickered to your lips and then back to your eyes again.

You leaned in again, pressing your lips to his, this time letting your hands travel through his locks, pulling him in closer while his hands wrapped around your waist, moving you ever so slightly so you were in his lap. His tongue nudged your bottom lip, and you obliged, sucking softly on the warm muscle that now danced lithely in your mouth.

His fingers massaged up and down the small of your back, soothingly, as the kiss deepened and the world around you seemed to fade away. For whatever horrors and dangers might be beheld outside these walls, in this moment, it was as though the universe had conspired for circumstances to bring the two of you together here, in the now, in a moment that felt like a dream inside a dream.

With every tender touch of his lips against yours, you could feel warmth and affection pouring from his soul, and through the tears, through the ache of the past, your heart still raced in response, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. It brought a sense of serenity in this way your bodies seemed to melt into each other — a connection that transcended mere words.

You lost track of time as the kiss continued, wrapped up in the sensation of living mindfully, living in the moment, of being so close to him, feeling his breath against your skin, and the way his fingers played a gentle symphony on your back. It was a moment of pure bliss, and you couldn’t help but somehow be grateful for the pain and turmoil that had enhanced your ability to fully embrace and cherish this point — for how would you have been able to genuinely feel the significance of a moment like this, had you not gone through so much dark before?

When you both needed to catch your breath, you pulled back, your foreheads resting against each other. Your eyes locked, and you shared a wordless conversation, a silent promise of what the future might hold for the two of you. It was an unspoken agreement that whatever challenges were up ahead, you would face them together.

His fingers continued to trace patterns on your back, and he spoke softly, “What would you say if I told you I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, and that it’s even more incredible than I ever thought it would be?”

You giggled, feeling the deepest of happiness truly start to bubble up inside of you. “Me too,” you replied. “I guess I should have just said something earlier on, no?”

His laughter filled the room, a rich, melodious sound that still sent shivers down your spine. “Maybe,” he considered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But I think the anticipation, the longing, made it all the sweeter…even if it took the pain that you’ve been so strong to overcome to get there.” He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips moving with a newfound urgency, a hunger that you sensed had been building for far too long.

As your mouths met once more, the kiss deepened, and the passion between you ignited like a wildfire. His hands moved from your back, now exploring the curves of your body, tracing every inch of your form as if committing it to memory. You gasped into the kiss when his fingers delicately found their way to the small of your back again, pressing you closer to him.

The room seemed to grow warmer, your breaths coming faster and heavier. The chemistry between you was undeniable, an electric charge that pulsed through every touch and every kiss. His tongue danced with yours — a sensual, intoxicating rhythm that left you breathless.

You moved your hands from his hair to his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. You could sense the desire in his every movement, and it mirrored your own. The intensity between you kept growing like a storm on the horizon, threatening to consume you both.

His lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. Your back arched as his mouth nibbled on an area just below your ear, and a soft moan escaped your lips. He smiled and started sucking slowly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body like lightning.

With a desire that couldn’t be contained any longer, you straddled his lap. It was a bold move, but you were both now beyond the point of hesitation. His hands explored your body more eagerly now, caressing your curves, tracing every inch of your skin as he murmured sweet, passionate words of longing.

The heat between you two continued to intensify, your bodies pressing closer together. Every touch, every caress, every stolen kiss sent electric currents of desire through your veins. It was truly a symphony of passion, and you both were eager to explore every note and melody.

Your fingers found their way to the buttons of his shirt, deftly undoing each one as you revealed the sculpted contours of his chest. His skin was warm and smooth beneath your touch, and you couldn’t resist tracing your fingers along the lines of his muscles. His sharp intake of breath was all the encouragement you needed to continue.

His own hands weren’t idle, either, as they slid beneath your clothes, slowly teasing the sensitive skin of your lower back. You shivered at the touch, a mixture of delightful anticipation and longing snaking through your body. It was a dance of sensation, a thrilling exploration of each other’s bodies that left you both aching for more.

His lips continued their journey down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, moist kisses that made your skin tingle. You couldn’t help but arch your back more, a quiet moan escaping your lips as you kept yearning for his touch, a fire of pleasure igniting within you. The sensation of it all was exquisite, and you held onto him tightly, your nails grazing his back as you bit your lip to stifle your moans, all the while feeling the comfort of being in the arms of someone who genuinely, deeply cared for you.

As the two of you finally broke apart and just lay there, sweat still building and hearts still beating like there was no tomorrow, he sighed in content. Wrapped in the afterglow of your intense connection, he whispered, “You’re safe now, love. I honestly hope you packed enough things coming here, because…”

You eyed him curiously. “Because…?”

He smirked, giving you one more small peck on the lips. “Because you don’t have to go back to that place, to the pain your mother brought. I’ll protect you, and we’ll build a better future together.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Then…in that case…does this mean that we’re past…?”

He smiled. “That we’re past the point of friendship? Well,” he laughed softly, “considering how the past several moments were just spent, I would believe so. Unless you would prefer otherwise?” He pulled his signature eyebrow raise that instantly made you feel weak in the knees.

“N-no, definitely not!” you stuttered, half-excited and half-nervous. “I mean…I’ve just never gotten to the point where anyone wanted to consider me like that…l-like a girlfriend, I mean.”

“Well,” he whispered near your ear, hot breath cascading down your neck with every syllable, “consider me honored to be the first.” He left a gentle trail of kisses near your collarbone before meeting you at eye level again, waiting for your response.

On the one hand you were filled with gratitude and love, brimming with hope for the future, but on the other hand memories of your past kept your heart heavy. Your throat felt tight as words became hard to say, though they formed so quickly in your mind.

Hwa noticed the shadow that crossed your face, the turmoil still swirling within you, and he gently lifted your chin to meet your gaze. “I can see the worry in your eyes,” he said, his voice tender. “You’re afraid that you’re inconveniencing me with everything now, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip and nodded, the insecurities ingrained by years of manipulation from your mother resurfacing. “I can’t help but feel like a burden sometimes. It’s just that…my mom always made me think I was, and it’s hard to shake those feelings.”

Stroking your hair, Hwa leaned his forehead against yours. “I know you’ve been carrying the weight of your past for a long time. I know you’re still coping with moments of doubt, especially from the difficult relationship you’ve had with your mother. But please, please understand that you are not defined by her words or her actions.”

You closed your eyes finally, feeling the warmth of his presence soothing your troubled soul. “I’ve tried to be strong, again and again,” you whispered. “I’ve tried to let go of the past…but it’s like a shadow that never quite disappears.”

Hwa’s voice was filled with empathy as he continued. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to feel vulnerable, to acknowledge your pain. You’re not a failure. You’re a survivor, and you’re so much more than the hurtful words that were thrown at you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you finally, finally allowed them to spill over, lips trembling as you realized in that split-second how much you’d pushed to the back of your mind, how much you’d really forced yourself to hide away all these years — how much you’d feared being shunned by another as your own blood mother had for so long. “I just…I don’t w-want to b-burden you with my problems. I’m a-afraid…to be too sensitive, like she always said. Or to string you along under the guise that I’m something I’m not, like an imposter of my heritage or — ”

“Your mother’s words have no basis in reality,” Hwa began, his voice firm but gentle. “You aren’t defined by her prejudices or expectations. You aren’t a prisoner of her narrow-minded views. Y/n, you are your own person, with your own identity, and you have every right to embrace all aspects of your heritage, including the Asian part.”

Your eyes met his, wanting to believe the truth behind what he was telling you. “But, Hwa, I’m only a quarter Asian, and my mom’s made me feel like I have no right to claim that part of my identity. Plus, she makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong by having friends who aren’t white.”

He smiled softly and cupped your face, shaking his head as his eyes filled with warmth. “You are as much Asian as you are anything else. It’s not about the percentage, it’s about how you feel and what you choose to embrace. Embracing your Asian heritage doesn’t make you any less of who you are. It’s a part of your identity, and you have every right to explore and celebrate it. And your friends, no matter their ethnicity, are bringing diversity and richness to your life. I can always see the effect glowing in your eyes. Don’t ever lose that spark. It’s what adds to your amazing character, whether you know it or not. Those connections you’re always so apt to keep making just reflect the beauty of your open heart and your willingness to meet people from different backgrounds. You should be proud of the friendships you’ve built, so don’t let anyone ever make you feel otherwise.”

You felt a spark of hope kindling within you, the idea that you could embrace all facets of your identity, all features of your ethnic communities, and not be constrained by your mother’s views. You wrapped your arms around Hwa’s neck, nestling your cheek against the warmth of his chest, the steady pace of his beating heart syncing in time to your slowing breaths.

Hwa’s expression softened even more, and as he held you tighter, he looked down at you lovingly, wiping yet another stray tear. “And you are not a burden, my love. You are a gift. You bring so much light and happiness into my life, and I’m grateful for every moment we share. Your feelings are valid. I’m here because I want to be, because I care about you, and because I want to support you through this journey of healing, however long it might take. Your sensitivity is a strength, not a weakness. And it hurts me to see you carry this weight, but please know, you are cherished, and you belong here.”

His words were like a warm embrace for your soul, and you felt the tight knot of self-doubt beginning to unravel. “Thank you for being so understanding and patient with me, Hwa,” you whispered, tears of gratitude glistening in your eyes.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead and held you close. “You’re not alone in this, my love. We’ll face your past together and build a brighter future, one filled with the love and happiness you deserve. I’ll always be here to support you, to remind you of your worth, and to love you unconditionally. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.”

You smiled slowly but surely at him again, bringing him close to you for another kiss, softer but sweeter this time around. As you nestled into his arms, the storm of your past seemed to fade away, and you basked in the love and acceptance that he offered. With each passing moment, you felt yourself healing, letting go of the guilt and insecurity that had held you back for so long.

With Hwa’s support, you felt more and more of a renewed sense of hope and determination, ready to leave behind the painful memories and look forward to the beginning of a life you could feel ready to step towards, together. A breeze began to pick up outside, as far as you both could hear, but you could care less now, your embrace and love stretching the seconds and enriching the heart in such a way as to convey just how thankful you were to have him in your life, in your arms, in your warmth, and in your future.

[scotianostra]

Happy 80th Birthday Scottish actor Paul Young, born 3rd July 1944 in Edinburgh.

Paul started acting at an early age, playing the eponymous hero in the 50's classic Geordie. Young's big break was as one of the presenters of the early 1960s Scottish Television children's programme, Roundup. In this programme he famously interviewed The Beatles. Of his time there he said in an interview

“Well it was the kind of birthplace of my career, in a way. On a Tuesday I would come into the Theatre Royal to do this programme and it was always a thrill to go in, because you didn’t always know who was going to be on it. "Oh, it's Adam Faith, it's Cliff Richard, it's Johnny Mathis, it's Tom Jones. It's — who’s this? — The Beatles? All right, okay”. So it was like the birth, the birthplace, of my career, as a presenter, actor.”

He was also the first voice heard on pirate radio station Radio Scotland when the transmitter was turned on 31st December, 1965 at ten minutes to midnight as 1966 was about to begin, Paul presented the popular Ceilidh programme of traditional Scottish music on the station, which broadcast at various points off the Scottish coast up to August 1967.

Returning to acting later in the decade, Paul has gone on to appear in numerous plays, films and television dramas.

A keen angler, he has presented fishing programmes on Scottish television for many years. The first was Hooked on Scotland for the BBC. This was followed by Hooked on Scottish for ITV and more recently Hooked for the satellite and cable channel Discovery Home and Leisure. Fishing TV, a global video on demand fishing channel, has recently found and digitally remastered more than 120 classic Paul Young episodes and they are now available to view on the Fishing TV service.

Some of his other credits include The Tales of Para Handy, No Job for a Lady, The Crow Road, Rab C Nesbit Coronation Street and of course Taggart, in two different roles and of course the role most us know him from, Still Game.

In the hit Scottish sitcom Paul played Hugh "Shug" McLaughlin, initially appearing occasionally in the early series but by series 5 and 6 becoming a regular cast member. Nicknamed "shug the lug" on the account of Paul Young's trademark ears. He was a communications officer during World War II and is a self-proclaimed expert in radios and soundwaves who often relies on his big ears to hear through walls. Shug is generally the only pensioner that knows about gadgets and new technology in the group.

There was wider fame in 2018 for oor Paul, when Google wrongly said that 80s singer Paul Young was the man who appeared as the Craoglang bat-eared eavesdropper Shug. A twitter user first spotted the mix up and Still Game star and creator Greg Hemphill tater retweeted it adding “Wherever I lay my lugs.”

Now retired, Paul Young lives near Glasgow and enjoys fishing with his grandchildren.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Four months into the assault on Gaza, the Israeli military has forced over a million refugees to the edge of the Egyptian border and is now bombing them while threatening to mount a ground assault against them. In the following text, Jonathan Pollak, a longtime participant in Anarchists Against the Wall and other anti-colonial solidarity efforts, explains why we should not look to international institutions or protest movements within Israeli society to put a stop to the genocide in Gaza and calls on ordinary people to take action.

A shorter version of this text was rejected by the liberal Israeli platform Haaretz—an indication of the diminishing space for dissent in Palestine and within Israeli society.

Human Rights Discourse Has Failed to Stop the Genocide in Gaza

We are now more than 120 days into the unprecedented Israeli assault on Gaza. Its horrific repercussions and our inability to bring it to an end should compel us to reevaluate our perspective on power, our understanding of it, and, most significantly, what we have to do to fight it.

Amid the spilled blood, the endless days of death and destruction, excruciating dearth, starvation, thirst, and despair, the ceaseless nights of fire and brimstone and white phosphors raining indiscriminately from the sky, we must grapple with the bare ugly facts of reality and reshape our strategies.

The officially reported fatalities—in addition to the many Palestinians who remain buried under the rubble and aren’t yet included in the official count—already amount to the annihilation of nearly 1.5% of all human life in the Gaza Strip. As Israel escalates its attacks on Rafah, it seems that there is no end in sight. Soon, the lives of one in every fifty people in Gaza will have been extinguished.

The Israeli military is inflicting an unprecedented toll of suffering and death on the 2.3 million people of Gaza, surpassing anything ever witnessed in Palestine—or elsewhere during the 21st century. Yet these staggering figures have not penetrated the thick layers of dissociation and disconnect that characterize Israeli society as well as Israel’s Western allies. If anything, the reduction of this tragedy to statistics seems to hinder rather than enhance our understanding. It presents a whole that obscures the specifics: the figures conceal the personhood of the countless individuals who have died painful, particular deaths.

At the same time, the unfathomable scale of the massacre in Gaza makes it impossible to comprehend through the stories of individual victims. Journalists, street cleaners, poets, homemakers, construction workers, mothers, doctors, and children, a multitude too vast to be narrated. We are left with faceless anonymous figures. Among them are more than 12,000 children. Probably a lot more.

Please pause and say this aloud, word by word: over twelve thousand children. Killed. Is there a way for us to take this in and move beyond the realm of statistics to grasp the horrific reality?

The cold blunt numbers also veil hundreds of obliterated families, many of them completely erased—sometimes three, even four generations, wiped off the face of the earth.

Overshadowed by these figures are more than 67,000 people who have been injured, thousands of whom will remain paralyzed for the rest of their lives. The medical system in Gaza has been almost completely destroyed; life-saving amputations are being carried out without anesthetics. The extent to which infrastructure in Gaza has been destroyed surpasses the Dresden bombings at the end of the Second World War. Nearly two million people—roughly 85% of the population of the Gaza Strip—have been displaced, their lives shattered by Israeli bombings as they shelter in the dangerously overcrowded south of the Strip, which the Israeli government falsely pronounced “safe,” yet continues to pummel with hundreds of 2000-pound bombs. The hunger in Gaza, which was created by Israeli state policy even before the war, is so severe that it amounts to famine. In their despair, people have resorted to eating fodder, but now even that is running out.

About a month ago, an acquaintance of mine who fled to Rafah from Gaza City after his home there was bombed told me that he and his family had already been forced to move from one temporary refuge to another six different times in their attempts to escape from the bombs. In despair, he said, “There is no food, no water, nowhere to sleep. We are constantly thirsty, hungry, and wet. I’ve already had to dig my children out from under the rubble twice—once in Gaza and once here in Rafah.”

These rivers of blood must breach the walls of our apathy. If only time could stop long enough for all of us to process our grief. But it will not. It continues passing as more bombs fall on Gaza.

Decades of injustice have paved the way for this. Some 75 years have passed since the Nakba—75 years of Israel’s settler-colonialism—yet its defenders continue to deny the facts. Even after the the International Court of Justice (ICJ) asserted that there is indeed cause to fear that genocide is being committed in Gaza, the US and many of Israel’s other Western allies have effectively remained silent.

Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, called the court’s mere willingness to discuss the case “a disgrace that will not be erased for generations.” Indeed, the ruling is a disgrace. Despite everything being laid bare in plain sight, the court did not order Israel to cease fire. This is a disgrace to the court itself and to the very idea that international law is supposed to protect the lives and rights of those being crushed by the military force of nations.

It will undoubtedly be said that the law, by nature, is meticulous and that it considers the forest not as a whole but as individual trees. To that, we must answer that reality, facts, common sense must be above the law, not beneath it. Israel dedicates considerable resources to a legalism of the battlefield, intended to give cover to its murderous acts. This approach involves carving reality into thin slices of independently legally-approved observations and actions. A military target was present in high-rise X, justifying the deaths of over two dozen uninvolved civilians; apartment tower Y was the home of a Hamas-employed firefighter, legitimizing, according to the principle of proportionality, the decision to wipe out three neighboring families. But this practice cannot turn genocidal water into legitimate wine. This is legal gaslighting that shreds reality to pieces in order to conceal a pattern of indiscriminate mass murder.

If the slaughter of 1.5% of the population in four months is not genocide; if Israel’s acts are not deemed grievous enough for the court to order it to immediately stop the killing, not even in light of open incitement to exterminate Palestinians by prominent Israeli politicians and members of the press, not to mention Israel’s president and Prime Minister; when lack of punishment for such incitements and such acts is accepted rather than branded as genocide in the simplest of terms—then the words we use to describe reality have lost all meaning and we are in dire need of new language beyond the confines of legalese.

Leaving the butcher’s knife in the butcher’s hand—leaving Israel unhindered, unimpeded—means letting the slaughter in Gaza continue. This is the absolute ongoing failure of international law and the institutions entrusted with keeping it.

This failure passes on the responsibility of forcing an end to the ongoing catastrophe, so that it falls on the shoulders of civil society. This ought to compel us to move beyond the empty liberal paradigms of human rights, which have replaced liberation as the dominant discourse in leftist politics.

[cherryobx]

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝐉𝐉! | 𝐉. 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

requested?: nope, just a lil holiday gift from me to you

summary: you hear JJ is spending Christmas all alone and decide to ditch your family and spend it with him

warnings: language, mentions of drinking, mentions of kissing, typos prolly

WC: 0.9k

gif is not mine, creds to the owner!

JJ stood on the porch of the chateau, looking at the view in front of him, deep in thought. The weather had gotten a tiny bit colder but he still wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He liked to tell people he wasn’t cold but the cool wind made goosebumps rise on his skin. But the weather was the last thing on his mind at that moment.

It was Christmas and he had nowhere to go and no one to spend it with. John B was spending the evening with his girlfriend Sarah and her family, Pope was out on the mainland with his parents and Kiara was busy at the restaurant. That just left you. But he was too proud to ask if you wanted to spend Christmas with him. He couldn’t bear the thought of you turning him down. And he definitely wasn’t going to go back home to his father who was probably drunk and passed out on the couch anyway.

He shook his head, disappointed. He couldn’t believe he was about to spend Christmas at John B’s house alone, watching whatever was on the TV and drinking beer until he dozed off. He couldn’t wait for this miserable day to be over.

As he entered the house again, he heard rustling and noise come from the front door. He quickly made his way over to make sure the house wasn’t being broken into. John B would literally kill him. But instead of intruders or robbers he saw you, struggling to pull a Christmas tree through the door.

“Come fucking on!” you cursed under your breath, pulling the tree as hard as you could but it was so heavy you barely managed to move it a few inches.

“What the hell are you doing?” You were startled by his sudden appearance.

“Shit, don’t scare me like that!”

“I scared you?! I thought you were some creep trying to break in!”

“I barely broke in here, the door was pretty much wide open when I got here.” You shrugged. “So, are you gonna help me or what?”

He was confused. “Help you do what exactly?”

“Bring this tree inside, silly!” He didn’t question any further as he helped you pull the tree inside. But as it soon turned out, the tree was too tall and big for John B’s living room. It wouldn’t have fit in any way, so you ran back outside to the shed and got a saw.

“We’re gonna have to saw off at least this much if we want it to fit.” You gestured, showing how much of the tree needed to be cut. JJ took the saw you held out for him and began sawing a piece off. When that was done, you grabbed a big jar with lukewarm water and JJ held up the tree as you slid it under it. JJ placed the tree so it would lean a bit on the wall so it wouldn’t fall over.

“Where did you even get this thing?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the end of his shirt.

“Some dude on the street sold it to me for 120 bucks.”

“120?!” He looked at you, eyes wide in shock. 

You waved a hand dismissively, changing the topic. “We need to decorate it.” You turned and started walking towards your car but JJ stopped you in your tracks by grabbing your wrist.

You turned around, facing him. “What?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to spend Christmas with you,” you said as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“Because no one should be alone on Christmas.” His grip on your wrist loosened. “Plus, I’d be with you any day over my noisy stupid family.” He let go of your hand, a shy smile on his lips, and you went and retrieved the ornaments from the car and set them down on the coffee table.  

“Let’s get started!”

And in no time the tree was decorated and you stood in front of it, admiring your creation with proud faces. “We make a good team.”

He was about to agree when you bolted towards the front door again, cursing about something. He jogged after you and saw you grab a takeout bag from your car. “I forgot about the food!”

He chuckled and leaned against the doorframe as you made your way back to the house.

“You didn’t have to, you know?”

“I know,” you said as you walked past him into the house and to the kitchen. He closed and locked the door after you and then followed.

“I dropped off Kie's gift and thought that I might as well get something for us to eat.” You unpacked the continents of the bag and handed one of the boxes to JJ and grabbed the other for yourself. You ate on the couch in comfortable silence.

“Thank you.” He put his empty takeout box on the coffee table and you did the same.

“For what?”

“For coming here, for spending time with me, for feeding me,” he laughed at the latter. “I really appreciate it.”

You softly placed your hand on the top of his thigh. “Of course. Anytime.” 

His look drifted to where your hand lay on his thigh and then back to your eyes. You didn’t even notice how you’d both leaned in closer, faces only inches away from each other. He took the last step, finally connecting your lips into a loving tender kiss, shy at first but getting more heated by the second. When you pulled away to catch your breath, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Merry Christmas, JJ.”

“Merry Christmas.”

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[girlactionfigure]

🟣Thu morning - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

▪️ASSUMED DEAD HOSTAGES.. (Ynet via Wall Street Journal) The number of hostages still alive may be much lower than what is believed in Israel, and may only reach 50. Wall Street Journal via mediators in the negotiations for the deal and an American official familiar with intelligence obtained by the US. Meaning 66 of those assumed being held captive in Gaza likely dead.

▪️MIN OF RELIGIOUS SERVICES - READY FOR BURIALS.. "The Ministry of Religious Services, which is in charge of the burial, is preparing itself for big scenarios in the north.”

▪️CORRECTION - US CARRIER BATTLEGROUP INBOUND (to Israel)?  NO - fake news. The report was: “CNN: The aircraft carrier Ford and accompanying fleet are on their way to the coast of Haifa in the north of the country.”

▪️EVERY PEEP OF ISRAELI POLITICS FOLLOWED.. (Amit Segal) A friend from the Emirates called today to find out when the government is collapsing. He follows Al Jazeera which reports on every peep in the government.  In the eyes of the terrorist network and its supporters, this is not a conflict in the coalition or politics, but more holes in the Zionist ship.

▪️HEZBOLLAH TOLD THE US ENVOY..

1. Hezbollah told the mediator that no threat to them will work.

2. If Israel wants to start a war - Israel should take into account that Iran that will intervene militarily and join Hezbollah (first time hearing this from a Hezbollah source).

3. Israel will face massive launches from Iran and Lebanon.

4. The reason for the publication of the video of the Hizbullah 'Dukifat' drone - because Hochstein conveyed messages that Israel gave an ultimatum to Hizbullah until the 26th of the month, in response Hizbullah threatened Israel again.

5. The 48-hour ceasefire was not because of the Feast of the Sacrifice, but a coordination between Iran and the US to lower tensions ahead of the envoys visit.

▪️RED SEA SHIPPING ATTACK via SUICIDE BOAT.. bomb laden drone boats are now being used by the Houthis, and are what hit and sank the Greek bulk carrier ship in the Red Sea.

.. US CENTCOM: in the last 24 hours destroyed two Houthi suicide boats in the Red Sea. In addition, destroyed two command and control stations of the Houthis.

▪️AID PIER.. contrary to many mainstream media reports, the US has reconnected the floating dock in Gaza after seas calmed.

▪️PROTESTS.. small group of protestors blocked the Ayalon highway north near La Guardia, “120 abductees are still being held captive by Hamas in Gaza, and the most burning issue on the agenda is political deals, exemption from conscription and appointing rabbis. Israeli government, cabinet - wake up!”

A small group blocked the Einat intersection with the same banners as well.

In most cases large professionally printed banners show these are planned and well financed protests.

▪️AIR TRAVEL.. A record number of passengers in Israel since the beginning of the war - today about 62,200 passengers will pass through Ben Gurion Airport on 376 incoming and outgoing international flights: about 33,300 will leave, about 28,900 will enter.  That remains much lower that before the war due to airline capacity, higher flight costs and reduced tourism.

▪️TAXES.. Treasury plan for 2025: child allowances and wages in the public sector will be cut, the sugar tax (sweetened drinks) will be returned. And also recommend a cut in the (discretionary) coalition funds and improving financial efficiency in the IDF.

♦️COUNTER-TERROR - TULKARM.. overnight IDF forces operating in Tulkarm.

♦️COUNTER-TERROR - Jenin.. IDF forces operating in Jenin this morning, 2 arrested.

⭕ HAMAS attacks Aid Transfer Port Kerem Shalom, via ROCKETS this morning - - again.

[mariacallous]

On September 10, Washington confirmed that Iran had transferred short-range ballistic missiles to Russia. With more weapons suited for hitting closer targets, Moscow can now conserve its longer-range missiles for deeper strikes into Ukrainian territory. And Western officials don’t expect this shipment to be the last. However, escalating tensions in the Middle East could push Tehran to prioritize keeping its arsenal at home. Journalists from the independent outlet iStories investigated the types of weapons Iran is sending to Russia and their potential impact on the war in Ukraine. Meduza shares an abridged English-language version of their reporting.

In early September, The Wall Street Journal, citing U.S. and European officials, reported that Iran had delivered around 200 ballistic missiles to Russia. One official warned that this shipment likely wouldn’t be the last.

According to the Financial Times, the missiles — Fath-360s with a range of up to 120 kilometers (75 miles) — were transported via the Caspian Sea. Sky News published a photo of a Russian ship said to have delivered the missiles to Port Olya, near the city of Astrakhan, on September 4. The ship traveled from Iran with its transponder switched off, concealing its movements.

On September 10, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken confirmed that Russia had received Iranian Fath-360 missiles, estimating that Moscow could begin using them in Ukraine within weeks. Dozens of Russian soldiers have already undergone training in Iran.

Along with the missiles, Russia will also require Iranian launchers, explains Fabian Hinz, a missile and drone expert at the International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS). The Russian military currently lacks launchers compatible with the Fath-360. In Iran, these systems are often mounted on commercial trucks, and they could be transported to Russia via large cargo planes or by sea.

Iran’s Foreign Ministry has denied sending missiles to Russia. However, Iranian lawmaker Ahmad Bakhshayesh Ardestani acknowledged the shipments, stating: “We have to barter for our needs, including importing soybeans and wheat. Part of the barter involves sending missiles, and another part involves sending military drones to Russia.”

No adequate defense

The Fath-360 has a range similar to Russia’s S-300 surface-to-air missiles, which the Russian military has used to target Ukrainian front-line and border cities such as Kharkiv, Zaporizhzhia, Pokrovsk, and Kostiantynivka, as well as military installations. When striking ground positions, both the S-300 and Fath-360 follow a ballistic trajectory.

Russia also deploys Iskander-M ballistic missiles against targets within the S-300’s range. The Iskander-M is more accurate and has a maximum range of about 500 kilometers (311 miles). With the addition of Fath-360s, Moscow can now conserve its Iskander-M missiles for long-range strikes. Iranian short-range ballistic missiles are known for their precision, and the Fath-360 is no exception, according to IISS’s Fabian Hinz. The missile is equipped with satellite navigation and is likely outfitted with electronic warfare countermeasures. Ukrainian military expert and Reserve Major Oleksiy Hetman believes the Fath-360 is more accurate than Russia’s S-300.

Saving Iskander-M missiles for deeper strikes into Ukraine is likely a critical issue for the Russian military. Ukrainian military estimates suggest that as of May, Russia had around 200 Iskander-M missiles and was producing about 40 per month. Russia’s acquisition of Hwasong-11 missiles from North Korea, which started last year, also hints at a potential shortage. The Hwasong-11, a close equivalent to the Iskander-M, has been in use by Russian forces since December, although the Ukrainian authorities report that about half of these missiles prematurely detonate mid-air. This summer, Russia used at least one North Korean missile manufactured in 2024, indicating that supplies from Pyongyang are ongoing, according to the U.K.-based investigative group Conflict Armament Research. 

The effectiveness of the Fath-360 will largely depend on how well operators can coordinate with intelligence units, as real-time target data will be crucial for swift strikes. But while Iranian missiles don’t introduce entirely new capabilities to Russia’s arsenal, their sheer numbers could still play a significant role in the conflict, Hinz notes.

There’s little hope that Ukraine’s air defenses will be able to intercept a significant number of Fath-360s. The country lacks sufficient systems capable of intercepting ballistic missiles, and deploying them within the Fath-360’s range is extremely risky. Since the full-scale invasion began, Ukrainian forces have managed to shoot down only 19 of the 3,000 S-300 and S-400 missiles fired by Russia, according to an August report from Ukrainian Armed Forces Commander-in-Chief Oleksandr Syrskyi.

Iran’s arsenal

The Iranian military has both cruise and ballistic missiles with ranges spanning several hundred to several thousand kilometers, according to reports from Western analysts published in 2024. However, reliable and up-to-date information about the exact number of missiles or Iran’s production capabilities remains elusive.

In 2022, U.S. General Kenneth F. McKenzie Jr. stated that Iran had approximately 3,000 ballistic missiles and had been heavily investing in their development for the previous five to seven years. Production has certainly increased since then, but it’s unclear exactly how many missiles Iran can produce monthly or annually, says Fabian Hinz from IISS.

Iran’s ballistic missiles can be broadly divided into two categories. The first includes expensive, difficult-to-produce munitions with ranges exceeding 1,000 kilometers (621 miles), capable of reaching Israel. In April 2024, Iran launched around 120 such missiles in a large-scale strike on Israel. In August, Israeli and Western officials expected another round of strikes in retaliation for the killings of a Hezbollah commander and the head of Hamas’s political bureau, though this hasn’t happened yet.

If Iran continues or expands its missile shipments to Russia, Moscow is likely to receive mostly short-range munitions. In addition to the Fath-360, Iran has missiles with ranges of 300, 500, 700, and around 1,000 kilometers. Tehran has used some of these missiles to target Islamic State positions in Syria and U.S. military bases in Qatar and the UAE. While some missed their targets, Hinz notes that overall, their accuracy is high.

Still, Iran may hesitate to part with even small quantities of these missiles. With the rising threat of a major conflict in the Middle East, Iran needs to maintain a stockpile of ballistic missiles for potential strikes on U.S. military bases. To hit targets in Kuwait and Qatar, Tehran would require missiles with ranges of at least 300 kilometers, and for the UAE, a minimum of 500 kilometers.

Reports of Iranian missile shipments to Russia first surfaced in Western media in February. At the time, there were speculations that Iran had sent Moscow Fateh-100 ballistic missiles (with a range of up to 300 kilometers) and Zolfaghar missiles (up to 700 kilometers). However, no confirmed evidence of their use in Ukraine has emerged so far. Hinz suggests that Iran’s decision to supply shorter-range munitions to Russia is tied to escalating tensions in the Middle East and its own growing military needs.

* * *

In response to Iran’s missile deliveries to Russia, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken called the transfer a “sharp escalation,” while the U.K., Germany, and France issued a joint statement describing it as a “direct threat to European security.”

On September 11, just a day after the U.S. officially confirmed the missile deliveries, Blinken and U.K. Foreign Secretary David Lammy met with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in Kyiv. Ukraine’s top priority is lifting restrictions on the use of long-range Western weapons to strike deep into Russian territory. According to Bloomberg, Zelensky presented a plan outlining these strikes over the coming months.

After Russia’s summer offensive in Ukraine’s Kharkiv region, the U.S. authorized Ukraine to use Western weapons against military targets in Russian border areas. Now, according to Politico, the White House is close to expanding the permitted strike zone.

[imbadatwrighting]

Can I request a cindy berman × male reader one shot? One where Cindy survive instead of ziggy and reader comforts her in hospital.

Also reader broke his left harm bc I like it :)

I made this really short (like 120 words short) I’m having a little bit of writers block but you asked so imma deliver 😌 but be warned idk how good my comfort is so-

Oh and another thing- I don’t think I’ll be writing for fear street for a while bc I forgot everything about the characters and I don’t want to make them ooc whoops

Pairing: Cindy Berman x male reader

Summary: Hospital visits are no fun especially when you have survivors guilt but having your boyfriend there always makes it a little better

————————————————————————

“It should have been me.”

“Cindy stop it,” you sighed sitting on the chair next to her hospital bed. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. We both know it,” she sat up in her bed not daring to make eye contact with you and instead staring out the window at the dark, gloomy clouds.

You stared at her for a second before standing up. Not getting her attention still you moved towards her successfully climbing into the bed and under the covers.

“You know you shouldn’t be doing that,” she spoke up, only sparing you a little glance.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Not if you hurt your arm more. You’ll start whining like a little baby,” she mumbled under her breath feeling you wrap your non-injured arm around her and rest your head on her shoulder.

You chuckled a little bit knowing that she was most likely right about that.

“This isn’t about me right now.”

Ignoring what you just said Cindy grabbed your hand softly while staring right in front of her at the wall.

“If I protected her— I should have stuck with my plan,” Cindy muttered moving her head to the side to rest on yours.

“Did you know?” You whispered grabbing the news paper next to you.

“Know what?”

“That she was going to die if you followed her plan.”

She glanced over at you, who was still reading to daily newspaper, and frowned, “No.”

“Then why are you blaming yourself? You didn’t kill her, correct?”

“Well yes… but-” she spoke louder only to get cut off by you.

“Well if you didn’t know she was going to die and didn’t kill her than it’s really not your fault. I can’t explained what happened that night but I know for certain you didn’t kill your sister,” you spoke flipping the page of the news paper.

She stared at a chair for a while imagining her sister was sitting in that very chair saying something sarcastic yet funny.

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Cindy.”