#DECEMBER 2022 HERE WE COME

[msginnymalfoy]

Tʏʟᴇʀ ᴘᴏsᴇʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʟғ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ:

Tyler also said that they don't know a specific date yet for the release of the Teen Wolf Movie, but they do know it will come out this year. He said he hopes it will be in December.

- dsharmanews/rharsin (twitter)

Also, ian bohen told the same thing as tyler... there will be more teen wolf movies and everyone will come back.. 'eventually'.

*SOBS*

[captainofthetidesbreath]

not to be like this but all of the posts (and there are many across multiple platforms) right now going "I mean obviously I'm not mad or whining or anything but it sucks that there's all these three week breaks, how am I going to survive, this is awful, I cannot believe this is happening to me" like, it does in fact come off as entitled no matter how many qualifiers are put onto it

and the a smaller subset of THAT going "CLEARLY C3 isn't a priority for the studio" or "they're obviously trying to kill C3" or even posting stuff that comes off as "um, don't they know that if they keep doing this I won't shop here watch anymore", like, come on

as a tangent, genuinely, I feel like a lot of people have trouble admitting that they don't actually like C3 so they get existentially worried about them losing interest over a slightly longer break because it'll force them to acknowledge that they aren't actually interested, but it's fine not to be interested!

[ms-demeanor]

Friends, I think we need to talk about Covid.

I want to get a few caveats out there before I start:

I am aware that there are people who need to exercise extreme caution about Covid; I live with someone who has two solid organ transplants and who is at the most immune compromised level of immune compromised. *I* have to be extremely cautious about covid.

Masking does prevent a certain level of transmission, and people who think they may have covid should mask and people who are concerned that they may be at high risk for covid should mask.

You should be vaccinated and boosted with the most recent vaccines that are available to you; covid is highly transmissible and very serious, you do not want to get covid and if you do get covid you don't want it to be severe and if you do get covid you don't want to give someone else covid and up-to-date vaccinations are the best way to reduce transmission and help to prevent severe cases of Covid.

We should be testing before going to any gatherings, and informing people if we test positive after gatherings, and testing if we suspect we have been exposed.

It is bullshit that there aren't good protections for workers who have covid; you should not be expected to go to work when you are testing positive

It is bullshit that people who are testing positive are not isolating for other reasons; if you have Covid you should not be going out and exposing other people to it even if you are experiencing mild symptoms or no symptoms.

We do need better ventilation systems for many kinds of spaces. Schools need better ventilation, restaurants need better ventilation, doctor's offices and hospitals and office buildings need better ventilation and better ventilation can reduce covid transmission.

I want to make it clear that Covid is real and there are real steps that individuals and systems can take to prevent transmission, and that there are systems that are exerting pressures that needlessly expose people to covid (the fact that you can lose your job if you don't come in when you're testing positive, mainly; also the fact that covid rapid tests should be ubiquitous and cheap/free and are not).

All of that being said: I'm seeing some posts circulating about how we're at an extremely high level of transmission and the REAL pandemic is being hidden from us and, friends, I'm pretty sure that is just incorrect and we're spreading misinformation.

I'm thinking of this video in particular, in which the claim is made that "your mystery illness is covid" in spite of negative tests. The guy in the video says that there's nothing else that millions of people could be getting a day, and that he predicted this because a wastewater spike in December meant that there was a huge spike in cases.

I've also seen people saying that deaths are where they were in 2021-2022, and that we're still at "a 9/11 a week" of excess deaths and friends, I'm not seeing great evidence for any of these claims.

I know that we (in the US, which is where the numbers I'm going to be citing are from) feel abandoned by the CDC and the fact that tracking cut off in May of 2023. But that only cut off for the federal tracking.

I live in LA county and LA county sure as shit is still tracking Covid.

If you want a clearer picture, you can see the daily case count over time compared to the daily death count:

Okay, you might say, but that's just LA.

Alright, so here's Detroit:

Right, but maybe that's CDC data and you don't trust the CDC at this point.

Okay, here's fatalities in New York tracked through New York's state data collection:

It's harder to toggle around the site for South Dakota, but you can compare their cases and hospitalizations and deaths for early 2022

To cases and hospitalizations and deaths from early 2024

And see that there's really no comparison.

Okay, you might say, but people are testing less. If they're testing less of course we're not seeing spikes, and they're testing less because fewer tests are available.

Alright, people are definitely testing less than they were in 2021 and 2022. Hospitalization for Covid is probably the most clear metric because you know those people have covid for sure, the couldn't not test for it.

Here are hospitalizations over time for LA:

Here are hospitalizations over time for New York:

As vaccination rates have gone up, cases, deaths, and hospitalizations have gone down. It IS clear that there are case spikes in the winter, when it is cold and people are indoors in poorly ventilated spaces and people are more susceptible to respiratory infections as a result of cold air weakening the protection offered by our mucous membranes, and that is something that we will have to take precautions about for the forseeable future, just as we should have always been taking similar precautions during flu season.

So I want to go point-by-point through some of the arguments made in that video because I'm seeing a bunch of people talking about how "THEY" don't want you to know about the virus surge and buds that is just straight up conspiracism.

So okay, first off, most of what that video is based on is spikes in wastewater data, not spikes in cases. This is because people don't trust CDC data on cases, but I'd say to maybe check out your regional data on cases. I don't actually trust the CDC that much, but I know people who do tracking of hospitalizations in LA county, I trust them a lot more. Wastewater data does correlate with increases in cases, but this "second largest spike of the entire pandemic" thing is misleading; wastewater reporting is pretty highly variable and you can't just accept that a large spike in covid in wastewater means that we're in just as bad a place in the pandemic as we were in 2022. We simply have not seen the surge of hospitalizations and deaths that we would expect to see in the weeks following that spike in wastewater data if wastewater data was reflective of community transmission.

The next claim is that "there is nothing else that is infecting millions of people a day" and covid isn't doing that either. The highest daily case rates were in January of 2021 and they were in the 865k a day range, which is ridiculously high but isn't millions of cases a day.

But what we can see is that when people are tested by their doctors for Covid, RSV, and the Flu, more tests are coming back positive for the Flu. Covid causes more hospitalizations than the other two illnesses, but to be honest what the people in the video are describing - lightheadedness, dizziness, exhaustion - just sound like pretty standard symptoms of everything from covid to the cold to allergies. There are lots of things your mystery illness could be.

The video goes on to talk about the fact that people aren't testing, and why their tests may be coming back negative and I'd like to point out that the same things are all true of Flu or RSV tests. People might be getting tested too early or too late; getting a negative test for the flu isn't a good reason to assume you've got covid, getting a negative test for covid isn't a good reason to assume you've got the flu, and testing for viruses as a whole is imperfect. There are hundreds of viruses that could be the common cold; there are multiple viruses that can cause bronchitis; there are multiple viruses that can cause pneumonia, and you're not going to test for all of these things the moment you start feeling sick.

He then recommends testing for multiple days if you have symptoms and haven't had a positive test (fine) and talks about the location of the tests (less fine). Don't use your rapid tests to swab your throat or cheek unless it specifically says that they are designed to do so. Test based on the instructions in the packet.

He points out that the tests probably still pick up on the virus because they're not testing for the spike protein, they're testing for the RNA (good info!)

The video then discusses something that I think is really key to this paranoia about the "mystery illnesses" - he talks about how covid changes and weakens your immune system (a statement that should come with many caveats about severity and vulnerability and that we are still researching that) and then says that it makes you more susceptible to strep or mono and that "things that used to clear in a day or two now hit you really hard."

And that's where I think this anxiety is coming from.

Strep throat lasts anywhere from three days to a week. A cold takes about a week to clear. The flu lasts about a week and can knock you on your ass with exhaustion for weeks depending on how bad you get it. Did you get a cough with your cold? Expect that to take anywhere from three to eight weeks to clear up.

I think that people are thinking "i got a bad virus and felt really sick for a week and haven't gotten my energy back" but that just sounds like a bad cold. That sounds like a potent allergy attack. That doesn't even sound like a bad flu (I got a bad flu in 2009 and thought i was going to straight-up die I had a fever of 103+ for three days and felt like shit for three days on either side of that and took six weeks to feel more like myself again).

Getting sick sucks. It really, really sucks. But if you're getting sick and you're testing for covid and it's coming back negative after you tested a few times, it's almost certainly not covid.

The video then says "until someone provides evidence that it's not covid, it should be assumed to be covid because we have record levels of covid it's that simple" but that's not simple. We don't have record levels of covid and he hasn't proved it. We have record high levels of wastewater reports of covid, which correlates with covid cases but the spike in wastewater noted in december didn't see a spike with a corresponding magnitude of cases in terms of either hospitalizations or deaths, which is what we'd have seen if we had actual record numbers of covid.

He says that if you want to ignore this, you'll get sick with covid, and that about 30-40% of the US just got sick with covid in the last four months (which is a RIDICULOUSLY unevidenced claim).

He says that we need to create a new normal that takes covid into account, which means masking more often and testing more often and making choices about risk-avoidant behaviors.

Now, I don't disagree with that last statement, but he prefaces the statement with "it doesn't necessarily mean lockdown" and that's where I think the alarmism and paranoia is really visible here. We are so, so far away from "lockdown" type levels that it's absurd to discuss lockdown here.

What I'm seeing right now is people who are chronically ill, people who are immune compromised, and people who are experiencing long covid (which may not be distinct from other post-viral syndromes from severe cases of flu, etc, but which may be more severe or more notable because of the prevalence of covid) are talking about feeling abandoned and attacked and left behind by society because covid is still out there, and still at extremely high levels.

I am seeing people who feel abandoned and attacked because the lgbtq+ events they are attending don't require masking. I am seeing people who are claiming that it is eugenicist that their schools don't have a negative test policy anymore.

And this comes together into two really disconcerting trends that I've been observing online for a while.

The claim that the pandemic is still as bad as it's ever been and in fact may be worse but we can't know that because "they" (the CDC, the government, capitalist institutions that want you back in the office, the university industrial complex that wants your dorm room dollars) are covering up the numbers and

Significant grievance at the fact that people are acting like number one is not true and are putting you at risk either out of thoughtlessness (because they don't realize they're putting you at risk) or malice (because they don't care if the sick die).

And those things are a recipe for disaster.

I think I've pretty robustly addressed point one; I don't think that there's good evidence that there's a secretly awful surge of covid that nobody is talking about. I think that there are some people who are being alarmist about covid who are basing all of their concern on wastewater numbers that have not held up as the harbinger of a massive wave of infections.

So let's talk about point number two and JK Rowling.

Barnes and Noble is not attacking you when it puts up a Hogwarts Castle display in the lobby. Your favorite youtuber isn't trying to hurt you when they offhandedly mention Harry Potter.

If you let every mention of Harry Potter or every person who enjoys that media franchise wound you, you are going to spend a lot of your time wounded.

People are not liking Harry Potter at you.

Okay.

People are also not not wearing masks at you.

You may be part of a minority group that experiences the potential for outsized harm as a result of majority groups engaging in perfectly reasonable behaviors.

There are kind, well-meaning, sensible people who go out every day and do something that may cause you harm and it's not because they want to hurt you or they don't care about whether you live or die, it is because they are making their own risk assessments based on their own lives and making the very reasonable assumption that people who are more concerned about covid than they are will take precautions to keep themselves safe.

We are not at a place in the pandemic where it is sensible to expect people with no symptoms of illness to mask in public as a matter of course or to present evidence of a recent negative test when entering a public building in their day-to-day life.

I think now is a really good time to sit down and ask yourself how you expect things to be with covid as an endemic part of our viral ecosystem. I think now is a good time to ask yourself what risk realistically looks like for you and for people who are unlike you. I think now is a good time to consider what would feel "safe" for you and how you could accomplish feeling safe as you navigate the world.

I'm probably going to continue masking in most indoor spaces for years. Maybe forever. There are accommodations that SHOULD be afforded to people who have to take more precautions than others (remote learning, remote visits, remote work, etc.), and we should demand those kinds of accommodations.

But it is going to poison you from the inside out if you are perpetually angry that people who don't have the same medical limitations as you are happy that they get to go shopping with their faces uncovered.

So now I want to talk to you about my father in law.

My father in law had a bone marrow transplant in 2015. That's the most immune compromised you can get without having your organs swapped out.

The care sheet for him after the transplant was a little overwhelming. The list of foods he couldn't eat was intimidating and the limitations on where he could go was depressing. It cautioned against going to large events, it recommended outdoor gatherings where possible but only if he could avoid sunlight and was somewhere with no history of valley fever. It said that he should wear masks indoors any time he was someplace with poor ventilation and that he should avoid contact with anyone who had an illness of any kind, taking special note to avoid children and anyone recently vaccinated for measles.

It was, in short, pretty much what someone immune compromised would need to do to try to avoid a viral infection. Sensible. Reasonable. Wash your hands and social distance; wear masks in sensitive contexts and don't spend time in enclosed places with people who have a communicable illness.

This is what life was always going to be like for people who are severely immune compromised, and it was always going to be incumbent upon the person with the illness to figure out how to operate in a society that is not built with them in mind.

It is not the job of every parent I encounter to tell me whether their child has been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months. That isn't something that people need to do as part of their everyday life. However it IS my responsibility to check with the parents I'm hanging out with whether their children have been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months so I know if it's safe for my immune compromised spouse to be around them.

If you want an environment in which you feel safe from covid, at this point in the pandemic (when the virus is endemic and not spreading rapidly as far as we can see from case counts) it is your responsibility to take the steps necessary to make you feel safe. Some of those steps will involve advocating for safety improvements in public spaces (again, indoor ventilation needs to be better and I'm personally pretty extreme about vaccination requirements; these are things we should be discussing in our school board meetings and at our workplaces), some of those steps will involve advocating for worker protections, guaranteed sick time, and the right to healthcare. But some of the things you're going to need to do to feel safe are going to come down to you.

If you are concerned about communicable diseases you have to be realistic about the fact that our society doesn't go out of its way to prevent communicable diseases - norovirus among food service workers pre-pandemic is pretty clear evidence of that. You are going to have to be proactive about your safety rather than expecting the world to act like Covid is at 2021-2022 levels when it is measurably not.

[no-passaran]

Spain lied about not selling weapons to Israel.

Even after October 7th, Spain has sold more than 1 million € of weapons to Israel. Norway and Finland make it possible.

In January, Spain made headlines word-wide when the government's Minister of Exteriors, José Manuel Albares (PSOE), claimed in Congress and later again in a radio interview that Spain had stopped selling weapons to Israel ever since October 7th. Israel's intensification of violence in Gaza following October 7th meant that, on top of decades of apartheid and ethnic cleansing, between October 7th and January 23rd Israel had already killed 28,000 people and forced 2 million out of their home. In this context, many people were demanding their governments stop arming and funding the genocide of the Palestinian people, and here on Tumblr and other social media sites like Twitter I think we all saw the many posts praising the Spanish government for this.

Well, it turns out it was a lie.

According to Albares, "Since October 7th there are no more weapons exportations [from Spain] to Israel". But in November alone, Spain exported weapons to Israel for 987,000€, as was published on the Spanish Government's official website dedicated to exterior commerce (Comex). A researcher from Centre Delàs (an independent centre for peace studies) found it and published it, and it has also been verified by newspapers such as elDiario.es.

This 987,000€ worth of weapons in November was not the only ammunition that Spain has sent to Israel in 2023. In 2023, Spain exported a total of 1.48 million € in war material to Israel.

All of the weapons sent in November come from the factory of Nammo Palencia (Castilla y León), a corporation that is 50% property of the Government of Norway and 50% owned by a public Finnish business. However, even if the owners are foreigners, the ammunition was sent from Spain and thus it had to be authorized by the an organism of the Spanish Government named Junta Interministerial de Defensa y Doble Uso, whose deliberations on whether a weapons exportation is accepted or denied are kept secret. The only cases where they have denied exporting weapons to Israel have been when they thought that Israel would re-sell these weapons to the Philippines.

Spain has had a close relation with Israel for years. As published by the Spanish Government, Spain has sold 20 million € of weapons to Israel between 2012 and 2022. Spain also buys weapons and military software from Israel (for example, the Spanish Intelligence Service has been using the Israeli software Pegasus to illegally spy on Catalan activists, journalists, politicians and civil society members and their relatives to attack the Catalan independence movement), and Spain has continued buying from Israel and allocating defense contracts to Israel even after the October 7th attacks. It is very difficult to track the concessions of public contracts such as buying weapons, but some contracts have been known. For example, on November 24th 2023, Spain bought 287.5 million € of missiles from Israel. This is not unusual: between 2011 and 2021, it is publicly known that Spain bought war material from Israel for at least 268 million €, but experts say that the real number could be two or three times as much.

Spain has also continued allocating concessions to Israel. For example, on December 15th 2023 Spain allocated a contract worth over 576 million € to Israel for a rocket launcher programme. On November 22nd, Spain allocated another another Israeli company to provide missiles for 237 million € at the same time as the Spanish army bought Israeli inhibitors for 1.4 million €. The very next day, November 23rd, Spain signed another military allocation to Israel for 82,600€. The following week, Spain signed yet another allocation with a different Israeli military corporation for 3.7 million €.

Spain also allows Israeli weapon manufacturing companies to produce weapons through their branches located in Spain. This way, Israeli weapons make their way to markets with which Israel doesn't have diplomatic ties but Spain does, like Saudi Arabia. And since Spain is a member of NATO, Israeli weapons produced in Spain are approved according to NATO standards and access it easily. In the same way, these Israeli weapons manufacturers also access European Union defense funds through their branches in Spain. (source).

As I said, I saw a lot of positive posts around when Albares said Spain was going to embargo, but I haven't seen any post about how they didn't do it. I also (personally) haven't seen anything on international media, and barely anything on Spanish media, which is already busy with the PSOE covid material corruption scandal. So I share this in the hope of helping put pressure on Spain to cut all ties with Israel immediately.

SHAME ON EVERYONE WHO GIVES ISRAEL THE MATERIAL AND MONEY THAT WILL BE USED TO MASSACRE THE PALESTINIAN PEOPLE. SHAME ON SPAIN, NORWAY, AND FINLAND.

[ksoo-althea]

hi, it’s me again, here for my yearly new years thought vomit.

like, I’m feeling so hopeful for the new year (after such a shitty year), but nothing is more unsettling than feeling so scared that you’ll, once again, accomplish nothing that you set out to accomplish. 🥴

Anywhore, happy new year, I guess🎉🥂

[threestarsinline]

More about my Tumblr year in review

[f1goat]

his masseur x lando norris

In which you're Lando his best friend and masseur, but your feelings start to cause a bit of trouble.

Requested: yes Warnings: small mentions of sexual content / not proof read

Tuesday - August 2022

“Maybe you can sleep in my bed this time?” Lando asks you. 

You look up surprised. This is new.

“What’s wrong with the guest room?” You ask still surprised.

“Nothing!” Lando quickly exclaims, “but I’m tired but I also don’t want to stop cuddling like this. So I thought we could sleep together.. Maybe?” 

You notice that Lando is rambling now. You smile at him. “That sounds great,” you say with a genuine smile.

Lando leaves his earlier position to get of the couch. You think about what’s happening. Maybe it’s weird for friends to cuddle as much as you and Lando do. Maybe it’s even weirder that you’re going to sleep in the same bed as him. But it’s not like you mind. You have been crushing on Lando forever, so every little thing you can have you take willingly.

Thursday - November 2022

“Happy birthday Lan!”

You kiss him on his cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer to him so the two of you can hug properly. After a bit you release yourself from his hug so you can give him his present. You hand him over the present you carefully wrapped with an orange wrapping paper. You watch how Lando unties the golden ribbons. 

His face lits up when he sees the present. You smile as well from his happy reaction. It’s safe to say he loves the new microphone you got him. It’s themed with everything he likes. The Quadrant logo and colors are covering the stand part, while the mic itself is a bit more McLaren themed. 

“I thought you could use a new one for your streams,” you tell him. 

“You’re amazing!” Lando exclaims enthusiastic. He pulls you closer to himself again. It doesn’t take more then a few seconds before he’s hugging you once again. 

“I love it,” he tells you softly, “You know me the best!”

Sunday - December 2022

“Finally a well deserved break,” Lando says. 

You nod. “You were amazing this season,” you tell him. 

Lando smiles gratefully. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he tells you even more grateful. 

“Don’t say that,” you say quickly, “It was all you. I’m just massaging you.”

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando says, “so I might have a tiny surprise to thank you for that.”

“A tiny surprise?” You ask.

“I booked us a hotel here, so we can spend a week together. We can do some fun things! Like exploring the city and go buggy riding in the desert.”

“That’s not a tiny surprise,” you tell him while laughing.

“Oops,” Lando just says.

“Are you thanking everyone on your team like that?” You ask.

“I send the rest a nice thank you card,” Lando replies.

You laugh.

Sunday morning - January 2023

“I can’t wait to spend the whole year with you again,” Lando softly says. The clock just stroke midnight. Lando is sitting next to you on the couch. You’re with friends, but everyone is busy with wishing each other a happy new year. Something you should do as well, but you’re enjoying your small private moment with Lando. 

“Me too Lan,” you say, “and a happy new year to you!”

“Happy new year!” Lando replies happily.

He comes closer to you. You want to press a kiss to his cheek, like you always do with friends while wishing them a happy new year. Lando seems to have the same idea. You don’t know how it happend, but in some way Lando his lips end up on yours.

“Oh fuck,” you say.

It didn’t even last two seconds, but it feels like an eternity. 

“Sorry!” Lando quickly says.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, nothing happened. I’m going to wish the others a happy new year as well.”

Lando watches you when you walk away. He sighs. “Yeah, nothing happened. Just my feelings for you,” he mutters annoyed. 

Thursday night - February 2023

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando.

“It’s nothing, how was the date?” Lando asks you.

You sigh. “Since I texted you a few hours earlier then we discussed I think you can conclude that it was bad.”

“I don’t get it. Why do you keep going on dates with types like this?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t know either,” you sigh. You think about who you really want. The guy next to you who’s currently driving you home in his McLaren. Lando is silent, he’s thinking about how it shouldn’t feel this way. Every time he picks you up he’s happy that your date didn’t go well. He can’t be like this. His jealousy is rising up way too much recently.

“I think I’m going to stop dating for a while,” you tell Lando after a bit of silence, “Maybe I’m not ready yet,” you add.

Lando can’t stop himself from smiling. It’s insane how relieved he feels suddenly.

Friday night - March 2023

“Would it be weird if we kissed?”

You look up at Lando. Does he even know what he’s asking you right now? It’s not like you can blame him right now. He’s drunk. But still, you let out a small sigh when you think about his question. Yes it would be weird, but you wouldn’t care about that. 

“I kinda want to kiss you,” Lando continues.

Butterflies are all over the place inside of you. You don��t have to check the rear mirror in Lando his car to find out your cheeks are red. You feel flustered. You try to focus on driving, but Lando is making it hard for you. For the second time that evening you remind yourself about Lando his condition. He’s drunk. Carlos and Max texted you before to warn you and when you picked up Lando you quickly noticed it as well. You can’t take his words serious right now, he’s drunk. 

“You’re drunk Lan,” you tell him after doubting for a bit, “but yes, it probably would be weird. We have been friends forever.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind the weird aspect. You also don’t tell him about your feelings from the last years for him. 

“If you say so,” Lando sighs. 

You hope Lando doesn’t asks questions like this again. Or not like this. He can ask questions like this, but not when he’s drunk and his words are meaningless. 

Saturday morning - March 2023

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “That was just what I needed.” 

You release a bit off the harsh pressure you used earlier. Slowly you massage further. Since you graduated last year, you’ve become Lando his personal masseuse. You’ve been lucky when McLaren hired you for it. Since then you join Lando and his - and your - team to every race. Meaning you can spend a lot of time with Lando. 

“I thought so,” you tell Lando smilingly.

Lando lets out a soft moan. Something that can give you weird butterflies sometimes, but now you’re getting used to it. It’s just because your massaging him. 

“You seemed pretty drunk last night,” you add.

“Oh god,” Lando grunts, “Please don’t remind me. I have no memories left. Sorry that you needed to pick me up like that.” 

You let out a soft disappointed sigh. You already expected this, but still. It would be nice if Lando remembered what he told you last night. It’s nothing new. Things like this happen way too often. 

“It doesn’t matter Lan, that’s what friends do,” you tell him to comfort him.

“Hm, friends yeah,” Lando sighs. 

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Lando doesn’t really respond anymore. You put a bit more pressure on his abs while massaging him. While you do so you think about multiple weird situations you had with Lando. 

“Maybe we can have a night in tonight? After qualifying,” Lando suggests after a bit. “We can watch some movies or something, whatever you like,” he adds.

“I kinda planned a selfcare night,” you tell Lando, “but maybe we can combine it?” 

“I’m in,” Lando tells you happily. 

“Great!”

Saturday - April 2023

“Y/n, it’s time for my massage.”

You look up surprised. Lando is standing in front of you and Pierre. What is he talking about? You just massaged him earlier. You’re free for the rest of the day. 

“Let’s talk further another time,” Pierre tells you.

You just met him. He seemed nice. Maybe you can finally find some other friends on the grid as well? 

“That sounds great,” you tell Pierre excited. 

You almost start to think that Lando lets out a scoff, but you’re probably wrong. You walk closer to Lando and he takes you with him to his drivers room.

“I already massaged you Lan, what was that about?” You ask him confused.

“I just got a bit of pain in my shoulder,” Lando mutters.

“Okay, can you pull of your shirt?”

When Lando feels your hands on his painless shoulders, he feels happy again. Maybe it was childish, but he didn’t see another way to get you away from Pierre and back to himself.

What’s going on with him?

Wednesday - May 2023

“I think I’m in love with y/n.”

“No shit,” Max sighs, “It took you forever to find out.”

Lando looks at his friend. Was he that transparant?

“So when will you tell her?” Max asks.

“Never!” Lando says quickly. He almost shouts. “What do you think that’ll happen? She doesn’t return my feelings, everything will become awkward and then I will lose her.”

“For fuck sake,” Max sighs, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Max, you have to keep this a secret,” Lando almost begs, “I can’t lose y/n.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

Saturday - June 2023

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Lando moans.

You slowly apply more pressure to his body. Your hands roam around Lando his necks and shoulders carefully. When you come closer to his neck, Lando can’t withhold another soft moan. You start to feel the well known butterflies flatter around in your body.

Lando doesn’t stop. He keeps letting out soft sounds that show you exactly what you’re doing to him. After a bit you notice that you’ll get an even bigger reaction when you massage him on a specific spot close to his neck. You can’t help yourself and don’t stop touching him there. Can it be his sweet spot? You wonder what will happen when you let your lips touch his neck right on that spot. Fuck, you shouldn’t think like this.

“Can you lie down on your back Lan?” You ask a bit later.

Lando shuffles a bit, but he doesn’t move to lie down on his back. You wonder what’s going on. 

“Lan?” You ask.

“Give me a few minutes,” Lando tells you. 

“Is something wrong? You need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable or painful when I do something,” you say.

“No!” Lando quickly replies, “It’s far from wrong.”

You don’t get it at first, but then Lando lies down on his back. You notice the bulge that formed itself in his pants. Lando doesn’t look at you. Something that comes in quite handy right now, because you’re smile isn’t really professional anymore.

Sunday - July 2023

Lando his qualifying at Silverstone went amazing. He got the second place and that as his home race. This is amazing. Currently the two of you are laying on the couch. You’re feeling relaxed while spending time like this with Lando. 

“Maybe I can massage you a bit?” Lando suggests, “Reverse the roles  for once.”

“That seems nice.”

Lando helps you to find a comfortable position on his lap. His hands slowly find your shoulders. He’s quick to apply a bit of pressure on them. You let out a soft sigh of relaxation. It’s been way too long since someone massaged you. That’s the disadvantage of being a masseur, everyone always expects you to massage them and not the other way around. 

“How does this feel?” Lando asks you. 

It feels like his hands are touching you everywhere at once. You haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. He’s slowly massaging your neck and you can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft moan. 

“Like you should do this more often,” you answer Lando jokingly.

You don’t tell him that you already feel yourself getting wet. Fuck. Why does he have to have such big, strong hands? That also feel insanely good on your body?

***

A few hours and a movie and some YouTube video’s later you’re still laying against Lando. The two of you are cuddled up on the couch in your hotel room. Lando plays with your hair while he focuses on the television in front of him. You can’t seem to focus anymore. Your mind keeps filling up with thoughts about Lando. 

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando tells you suddenly, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You’re the one who’s racing this good,” you reply. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando says slowly, “but I couldn’t have done any of this without your support. It means the world to me that you’re always here.”

“There’s no place where I would be rather.”

“Promise me you’re in for a long time?” Lando asks you.

Without even thinking about it you stick out your pink. Lando is quick to wrap his own around yours.

“I promise Lan and if you join another team, I’ll do everything I can to join them as well.”

“I’m not going anywhere else if you can’t join me,” Lando says, “If they want me, they get you as well.”

You laugh. 

Sunday - July 2023

You haven’t seen Lando for a while now. The two of you are in some sort of night club with a lot of the other drivers. Earlier today Lando got his second place. His first podium of the season. He even drove a couple laps as race leader. Things were amazing. You haven’t been proud, excited and happy like this for a long time. It feels insanely good. That’s why the both of you wanted to celebrate. 

“Hi!”

You notice that Pierre Gasly is standing in front of you and just greeted you. 

“Hey,” you greet him back.

Pierre and you have know each other for a while now. You can say that you’re friends with each other, but not really close friends. During race weekends you’ll talk with each other, but that’s about it. Still, when you talk to each other it’s nice and comfortable. 

“In the mood to dance?” Pierre asks you. You’re quick to nod. Pierre gives you his hand and takes you with him towards the dance floor. 

When Lando searches for you, he’s surprised to find you on the dance floor. Until he sees with who you are. Fuck. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Why does Pierre always come close to you? Lando thinks about a way to get you away from Pierre, but he can’t figure out something right now.

“Congrats on the podium!” 

Without even realizing it, Lando is hugging with Yuki Tsunoda. He makes a bit of small talk with him, but Lando his eyes never leave you and Pierre. It annoys him that you’re still dancing with him. He needs to figure out a way to get you back to himself.

“Don’t you find them cute together?” Yuki asks him after a while.

Is Yuki talking about you and Pierre as well? Before Lando can say anything, Yuki continues talking.

“Pierre has been planning on taking her out for a while, maybe he’ll finally ask her now,” Yuki tells Lando. 

“He likes her?” Lando asks.

Yuki nods.

“Fuck, I knew it,” Lando mutters annoyed. 

Without a plan he walks towards you and Pierre. When he stands in front of you two, he’s quick to grab your arm. You are quick to look up. You’re surprised to see Lando in front of you. 

“We’re going back to the hotel,” Lando tells you quickly, not knowing any better excuse right now. 

“Why?” You ask surprised.

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies. 

He notices the way your facial expressions change. He starts to feel like a terrible person when he sees your concerned face. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him. 

“I’ll explain in the car,” Lando answers with the lack of a better answer.

“Wait, y/n, before you go, can I ask you something?” Pierre asks you.

Lando his grip on your arm firms. He pulls you with him softly. You look at him, still concerned about his well being. “I really want to go,” Lando tells you. He knows what’s coming next, Pierre is going to ask you out. Fuck. He needs to get you away. 

“Maybe you can text me it?” You suggest to Pierre, “Lando isn’t feeling well, so we’re leaving now.”

“I’ll just ask you later,” Pierre sighs.

When you’re sitting in Lando his car, you notice that the boy is looking a lot better already. His weird facial expressions from earlier are gone, he almost seems relieved now? Maybe he was overwhelmed with all the attention and loud music? 

“What was wrong?” You ask Lando. 

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, “uh, I uh, I had a.. a uh, a headache. But it’s already getting better now.”

***

“Sooo,” you let out. You have been waiting for a moment to ask Lando something and maybe now is your chance? 

“So?”

“Why don’t you like Pierre?” You ask him. 

Since you and Pierre have gotten a bit closer, you have noticed Lando his strange behavior against Pierre. He always tries to get you away from him with excuses (?) about more massages. Or he joins your conversation and makes things awkward. What seems on purpose sometimes. 

“You always try to get me away from him,” you add while waiting for Lando his reaction. 

Lando sighs. Maybe he should just tell you everything. But he doesn’t. 

“There’s nothing wrong with Pierre,” Lando replies.

Wednesday - July 2023

“Want to lunch together?” Lando asks you. 

“I’m sorry Lan, Pierre asked me to get lunch together earlier today,” you reply a bit disappointed. If Lando only asked you earlier…

“Oh allright, then I’ll see you later. Right?” Lando asks disappointed.

“Yeah, after lunch I’ll be back,” you reply. 

“Okay, have fun.”

Friday - July 2023

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Lando asks you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask surprised. 

“It’s Friday!” Lando exclaims loudly, “we always have your self care night on Friday.” 

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. You totally forgot. Or better said, you didn’t know Lando saw it as a weekly thing. “Pierre asked me out for dinner tonight, I’m so sorry Lan,” you explain, “but I can cancel?” 

“You don’t have to,” Lando sighs, “just have fun with Pierre.” 

***

Y/n: uh hi 

Y/n: can u pick me up?

Lando: where?

Y/n: *location*

Lando: where is that? Who lives there?

Y/n: Pierre

Lando: can’t he bring you home

Lando: you seem to be dating him

Lando: not me.

Y/N: please lan

Lando: Omw

***

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando when you step into his car. 

Lando is quick to notice your sad expression. He wonders what happened inside Pierre his house. When he sees a small tear rolling over your cheek, he knows for sure something happened.

“What’s wrong?” Lando asks you. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sigh. 

“Babygirl,” Lando sighs, “What’s going on lately? We barely see each other and now I’m picking you up from Pierre’s while you’re all sad?” 

You let out a small sob. 

“I fucked things up,” you cry out. 

Lando increases his speed, he wants to get home as soon as possible so he can talk to you properly. He puts his free hand on your thigh and slowly draws some figures on it. When you use both of your hands to hold his, he can’t resist a small smile. 

When you’re inside Lando his home, you know Lando still wants answers. He deserves them as well. Together you sit down on his couch. You try to look at Lando, but you can only sob when you do. 

Pierre asked you to be his girlfriend tonight. You told him no. Of course you said no. You thought things between you two were just friendly. And there’s Lando. Maybe if Lando wasn’t here, you would have given Pierre a chance. But he’s here. He’s always on your mind. Even when you tried to forget about him, he’s always present in your thoughts. 

“What happened?” Lando asks you again. 

“I uh,” you stutter, “Pierre uh.. He, he asked me to be his uh.. his girlfriend.” 

“Then why are you crying? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Lando asks confused. His body is heating up. He can’t handle it if you’re officially Pierre’s. 

“I said no,” you state. This time the words come out a bit calmer. 

“Didn’t he accept that?” Lando questions.

You just nod your head this time. When you think back about Pierre his reaction, you shiver. 

“Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you.

“Later,” you suggest. 

Lando opens his arms for you. It doesn’t take you long before you find your comfortable spot back. You lean on his chest. You’ve missed this. 

“I’ve missed you,” you sob.

“I never left,” Lando states, “I just gave you some space with Pierre.” 

“I don’t want space,” you sigh. 

“What do you want?” Lando asks you confused, “I thought you wanted to date Pierre, so it seemed logical to give you a bit of space while figuring things out with him.”

You don’t think about your answer.

“I want you,” you state. 

When the words leave your mouth, you realize the impact of them. Fuck. What did you just do? This is going to be the moment that you’ll lose Lando. You already feel him straighten up, sitting more straight then before. Slowly you seat yourself different as well. Lando looks in your eyes and you can’t look away. 

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” Lando replies.

“I can’t unsay it I guess,” you sigh, “This is just great. I fucked up something even more important now.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Lando comforts you, “but you need to explain what happened and what you mean.” 

You sigh again. 

“I told Pierre I didn’t want to date him, I thought our ‘dates’ were friendly. Then he got mad. He started to talk about all the money he spend on me,” you explain slowly, “I told him I could pay him back, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I lost a friend.” 

“And then I started thinking about you. How I blew you off multiple times because Pierre asked me to do something, I was afraid that I lost you as well.” 

“Pierre’s a dick,” Lando scoffs, “and you can’t lose me. No matter how hard you’ll try, you can’t lose me.”

You let out a couple sobs. Lando pulls you closer to himself again. 

“What do you mean with wanting me?” He asks you.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh, “I’ve been in love with you for like forever.” 

Lando doesn’t know what he just heard. He asks you again. And again. You keep telling him the truth. 

“Fuck,” he says after a while.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I knew telling you was a mistake. Please stay my friend.” 

“Max was right,” Lando says.

You look at him, confused by the deeper meaning behind his words.

“I should have told you,” Lando continues, “Then all of this would never have happened.” 

“Told me what?” You ask confused.

“I’m in love with you,” Lando confesses, “I’ve been for the longest time. That’s why I didn’t like all of your dates, including Pierre.”

Saturday - August 2023

“It always turns me on when you massage me,” Lando confesses. 

You laugh softly. 

“Remember than one time you massaged me?” You ask Lando. He’s quick to nod. “We both have that problem.” 

“Maybe I can massage you again tonight?” Lando suggests. 

“That sounds amazing.”

[fangirl-dot-com]

Is That Subway Surfers? - 1k Special

GUYS WE ARE OVER 1K FOLLOWERS! I NEVER EXPECTED THIS TO HAPPEN OH MY WORD

It's only been, what, two months since I started "To Do is to Dare"? That's crazy!!

So for celebration, here is a little backstory on how Arthur and Reader met and a little look into her early Dams days with him and Ollie!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED!

Thanks for all the love!!

December 2022

You hung your head as Vito went over the details one more time. 

“Ok, kid. Dams wants to sign you for your last year. And you’ll be partnering with Arthur Leclerc. You know him?” You manager questioned as he held his iPad. 

You only rolled your eyes. “I know of him. Isn’t his brother the Ferrari driver? Uh, Charles?” 

Vito nodded at your limited knowledge. “Bingo. Dams thinks that the two of you have similar driving styles and that he’ll push you to win the championship.” 

You looked down at your iPad that was in your hands. Arthur’s smiley face stared back at you. A list of his credentials were to the left of the picture. You looked back up at your manager. You were thankful for another chance, but you were skeptical. 

“Prema didn’t want to keep me for one more year?” You let out a scoff at the end for a good measure. The team that helped you through Formula 3 and your first two years of Formula 2 suddenly dropped you after a few mistakes: mistakes that honestly shouldn’t have happened. 

Vito’s hand dropped on your shoulder and he crouched down to eyelevel. He gave you a sympathetic smile. He knew you were nervous of the unknown and he wished Lorenzo could have been here for you. But, he was trying his best. 

“Kid.” You locked eyes with him, tears in your lash line. “I know it’s scary, but give the team a chance. This could be it.” 

It meaning your last chance to win the championship and maybe get a foot in the door for a future Formula 1 seat. Your next best bet would be to get a test driver seat for McLaren or even Red Bull. But your chances were slim as most of the top teams already had who they wanted with several year contracts in place. 

You put the iPad down and took multiple breaths. If you were to give the ok, you’d be meeting your future teammate very quickly. 

A trying smile formed on your face. “I think I’ll miss Ollie though. He was a cool kid.”

Vito granted you with another eyeroll. “You speak as if you’re like 5 years older than him.”

Realistically speaking, you were almost two years older than the British driver. But, his “childish” antics made you feel as though you really had to watch out for him. 

Vito continued, “And that kid loves you to death. You just need to get over your thoughts of you being unlovable.” 

Your head swayed back and forth and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s go meet this, uh, French dude?”

“He’s Monégasque.”

You clicked your tongue. “Ah.” 

Vito packed up his bag and the iPads and led you out of your small Nice apartment. The drive to the headquarters wasn’t a long one. You just spent the majority of it watching small raindrops fall down your window, hoping that the smaller one would win the imaginary race that was going on in your head. 

“Kid, we her-…” 

“DANG IT YOU SHOULD HAVE WON!” Your fist hit the door. You suddenly froze and turned to look at Vito, who was already staring at you. The two of you then suddenly burst into laughter. It took you two a while to calm down, but you eventually made your way into the large building. 

The hallways were a bit confusing, but you and Vito finally made it to the conference room. Sadly though, the two of you were the last ones there. A blond boy was sitting in one of the plush chairs, looking intently at his phone. 

You guessed he didn’t hear you come in, as you were able to take a seat right next to him. Your eyes barely glanced over, before you saw him playing your favorite mobile game. 

“Is that Subway Surfers?” you whispered as you watched Vito introduce himself to the other adults in the room. 

Arthur practically jumped out of his chair at the new voice right in his ear. His wide green eyes were met with you, trying not to laugh too hard. 

He stuttered out in broken French, “Je – je suis vraiment desole. Je ne savais pas que tu etais la et j’aurais du faire attention, et oh mon dieu, tu es vraiment jolie et maintenant je divague...” 

(I – I am so sorry. I didn’t know you were there and I should have been paying attention, and oh my gosh you’re really pretty and now I’m rambling…)

You only stared as he was falling over his words. You put a hand on his leg and he shut up quickly. 

“First off, I legit didn’t understand a word you said. And second, whatever it is, it’s fine! I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.” You flashed a bright smile at him.

Arthur tried once again, in English with a heavy accent, “I, uh, am sorry. I should have been paying attention. I’m Arthur.” 

He held out his hand for you to take. Your hand grasped his and you shook it. 

“Hi Arthur, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet my teammate for this season.” 

He flashed you an even larger smile. In your mind, you thought he was adorable. He let out a small laugh as he turned off his phone. 

“It was Subway Surfers. I love the game.” 

“So do I! It’s so much fun.” 

“Are you two done flirting already or can we begin to talk contracts?” Vito’s voice pulled the two of you from your little bubble. With sheepish smiles from both of you, you turned your attention to the CEO. 

The meeting was a few hours long, and by the end of it, you were starving. As you were leaving, Arthur grasped your hand, which made you stop. Vito just calmly said that he’d be waiting in the car. 

“Yes?” You cocked your head as you looked up at the taller boy. 

He had a shy smile as he looked down at you. “Would you like to join me and my friend for dinner? We’re just going to a local restaurant and it’s not too far.” 

As your brain was trying to come up with an excuse, Vito yelled from where he was standing by the vehicle. “She would love to! Just have her give you her address. Have fun kid!” 

And with that, he got into the car and drove away. All while you were standing next to Arthur with your mouth open. You quickly closed it to not look like a loser. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll come with?” It came out more like a question, but Arthur just went with it. He led you to his car and you were surprised it wasn’t a decked out Ferrari. 

You only smirked. “Not a Ferrari guy?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes as he got in the driver side. “That would unfortunately be my brother. I might be part of the academy, but we don’t get any fancy treatment.”

You snorted at that. “Yeah, I’ve never actually been a test driver for any team. I have my own management and everything.” 

Arthur raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask anything else. 

The ride to the restaurant was fairly quiet and not awkward. Around halfway through, he had finally turned on the radio. 

And although Arthur didn’t drive a fancy car, he was not above valet parking. 

“Hold on,” he told you as he quickly got out and skirted around the front to open your door. You looked up at him with a shy smile. 

“What a gentleman.” He hand firmly but gently grasped yours as he led you through the doorway. 

“My maman would have my head. Ah, there’s my friend.” Arthur pointed to a table near the back. 

But to your surprise, you definitely recognized the brunet that looked bored to death.

“Ollie!” you called out. 

The Brit’s head whipped up at the sound of your voice. A giant smile formed on his face as he stood up. You quickly brought him into a hug. 

“I didn’t know you knew Arthur?” He questioned as the three of you sat down. Arthur called the waiter over so that you could get a drink. 

You looked over at the green-eyed driver. “Hmmm, just met today actually.” 

Arthur sipped his water. “We’re teammates for this year.” 

Ollie looked back and forth, ideas forming in his mind. But, he wouldn’t be telling the ideas to you any time soon. 

“What is that smirk for,” you questioned. 

“You totally scared him when you met him. Didn’t you?” 

“You scared him too?” 

Oh, boy were you screwed for the next years. 

(What you didn’t know was that these boys would become two of you very best friends. And maybe one of them would become something more.)  

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 am I interrupting something? tagged: olliebearman and arthur_leclerc

liked by y/n_nation, y/n-fan, y/n_is_on_top, and 10,839 others

olliebearman no comment?

prema_y/n ahaha prema racers back together

y/n_fan well, until prema dropped her... y/nxarthur well, now we get ollie AND arthur content so I'm not complaining

arthur_leclerc btw I wiped it right off

olliebearman YOU TAKE THAT BACK y/n.89 girls, girls, girls, let's not fight

prema_trio your honor, I love them

best_rookie_y/n anyone else here from 2024 and is here to see how little y/n was

olliebearman has posted

olliebearman who's the third-wheel now hmmmm? tagged: y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc

liked by premaracing, olliebear2, y/n_lover29, and 15,983 others

y/n.89 still you?

y/n&friends they are so hot

ollie_is_my_guy I could take them (but not in a fight)

olliebearman he is not THAT funny

arthur_leclerc yes I am y/n.89 ollie is a certified Arthur haterrrrr olliebearman then you'd be a certified Arthur loverrrrrr y/n.89 shut UP

y/n_nation our girl and her boys :D

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc why are we always at restaurants? tagged: y/n.89 and olliebearman

liked by y/n.89, olliebearman, charles_leclerc, and 58,284 others

y/n.89 because we like food (and none of us can actually cook)

charles_leclerc felt arthur_leclerc go away

thur_thur_92 I wonder who won

olliebearman me arthur_leclerc me y/n.89 wrong, it was me

best_trio_2023 they all give chaotic gen z energy and I am here for it!

y/n_loves_ME its the fact that Arthur is technically the oldest cause he's 22 right now while y/n is 19 and Ollie just turned 18

y/n.89 yet he still acts like a child

rb_y/n we need this trio to get back together in 2024 ASAP

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 they watch kung-fu panda ONCE tagged: olliebearman and arthur_leclerc

liked by y/n_nation, f2_fanatic, prema_trio22, and 19,274 others

y/n_updates BAHAHAHAHA cause this is so true for everyone

arthur_leclerc I am the Dragon Warrior

olliebearman um, no, you're more of a Master Oogway y/n.89 I am definitely the dragon warrior, ollie you can be the goose y/n's-favorite HELLO?

f2-fanatic I'm going to miss this group in a few months since y/n has to leave after the championship, and I don't know if Arthur is confirmed for next year :(

f2-trio SHHHHHH WE DON'T SPEAK OF THAT

y/n.89 I look amazing for once

y/n_nation ONE MORE RACE AND YOU GET THAT CHAMPIONSHIP GIRL!!

y/n.89 with olliebearman and arthur_leclerc has posted

y/n.89 wherever we go, we'll somehow end up back together

liked by damsracing, fredderikvasti, y/n_nation and 11,783 others

y.n_ON-TOP I'm going to miss this

olliebearman this was actually sweet?

arthur_lecerlc yeah, weird. are you feeling ok? y/n.89 no, this is more like I feel threatened? you both follow me everywhere

rookie_y/n I know she's done in f2, but where will she go after?

y/n'sfavperson as of right now, we don't know. basically all doors for f1 are closed y/n_updates well, she was wanting to possibly be a testing driver for McLaren but rumor has it that they just side Bianca Bustemante

vito_official can't say that I'll 100 percent miss the three of you annoying me all the time, but I will miss the three of you

olliebearman I KNEW YOU LIKED US arthur_leclerc LETS GO vito_official I take it back? y/n.89 no

y/n4f1 we just need a miracle right now - for her to somehow get into f1

f1_news GUYS DID YOU JUST SEE??? CHECO JUST ANNOUNCED HIS RETIREMENT

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @aeh2 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[sunofpandora]

“I miss the December avatar fandom.”

“I miss all the old avatar writers who left and deleted their blogs.”

“I miss 2022-2023 fandom.”

Yk who we should be talking about? The people here now. The people who are writing, working, drawing, editing, tweeting, and keeping the fandom alive.

Despite being less active, I don’t think any fandom is ‘dead’ less there’s absolutely no one that cares anymore.

Let’s be honest. People loose interest. People start to find the fandoms and movies and shows and books and hyper fixations they prefer, that’s okay!

And trust me ya’ll. I’m one to talk. I’m a certified fandom hopper. This is my-

What? 6th? 7th tumblr blog I’ve created bc of leaving other fandoms?

(Don’t worry guys I’m never deleting my avatar one.)

But the point is the people now who are creating in this fandom are getting way less attention than they would have back in December-March but we’re here anyways.

I’m not trying to be hostile, or mean, but can we understand that we’re still going? Through all these delays, through all these new announcements.

And let’s look on the brighter side? We now have frontiers of pandora, those new deleted scenes, and possibly more books coming? Did I mention that so’lek comic coming out this month?

Legs keep going guys.

[poisonous-honey]

Soul Crushing Guilt

(This is a re-upload: Originally posted to UniverseUchu on December 2nd, 2022)

You've treated them all like toys. In your defence this was just another video game to you a couple of weeks ago, but they're actually real with thoughts and feelings of their own. You don't know how to feel.

Who’s Here! Venti

Contains: isekai reader, Self Aware Genshin (not the Cult SAGAU), Insecurities (reader), Hurt/Comfort I guess it’s called

Note: I will say this takes place in the middle of a story, but it works on its own and I really liked how this turned out. I do have more written, but it's incomprehensible (even after a whole year it's still incomprehensible lmao)

Sitting on the cliffside of Starsnatch is not where you intended to be at this time, but your soul crushing guilt and insecurities have led you here. You needed to be away from all the positivity from everyone in Mondstadt. Their kindness was only worsening your mood. Staring over the edge, lost deep inside your head, you almost miss the way the wind whirls around you before you hear the one person you wanted to avoid the most right now.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why’d you leave without saying anything? Everyone back at Mond is worried, you know.”

You don’t say anything in response and let Venti walk up and sit next to you. You both stay silent and watch the waves crash onto the beach. Venti occasionally takes glances in your direction, but for the most part his eyes are on the scenery. After a few minutes, he tries asking you again.

“I know you told us that we aren’t overwhelming you, but please, if we actually are-”

“That’s not the reason I left Venti.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence is all that greets him. “Please, we just want you to be comfortable with us. We can’t help if we don’t know.”

Hearing him say that only makes you feel more guilty. They’re all so nice to you, and for what? The pressure and the guilt keeps building and building the more you stay here. Everyone’s been so understanding and kind, but all you’ve done before is use them any which way. You’ve judged them for superficial reasons and have even gotten them killed on numerous occasions. Venti showing up and putting the blame on himself and the others like they’re the reason you left just adds onto your shame as tears start to escape your eyes.

Upon seeing your eyes water, Venti slightly panics. “W-Wait, why are you crying!? I’m sorry for whatever-”

“Venti please stop.”

You turn to look Venti in the eyes, and see the panic and worry etched onto his face. It only makes you feel worse.

“Venti… Why are you here? Why do you keep following me?’ You look away from him, trying to keep from balling on the spot. ‘Why are you so nice to me?”

Hearing this, Venti’s face slowly scrunches in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m going to be nice to you. Where is this coming from?”

“You were conscious the entire time I was playing. I used you all like you were dolls for my amusement. After I got you, didn’t you feel like I was holding you captive or-or like some sort of toy forced to do my bidding? I don’t understand why no one hates me! I feel so guilty of everything I’ve said and done, but everyone’s apologizing to me like they’re in the wrong, and I don’t get it! Especially you! As the God of Freedom, don’t you hate me for taking away your own freedom from you? I just don’t understand… So why…” Unable to continue, you look away as you try to wipe your eyes and wait for Venti to finally tell you he hates you. That he’s going to stop pretending and get up and leave you alone. In your mind you know he would never, that's not who he is, but fear and anxiety is irrational.

Your breath hitches as you feel his hands land on your cheeks and turn your head to look at him. Instead of the disgust or apathy your heart was expecting, Venti’s face is filled with sorrow.

“I can’t believe you would think so low of me.’ He looks downwards and wipes away a few tears with his thumbs before looking back at you with nothing but care. ‘I guess from your point of view that’s a reasonable assumption to make, but you seem to be forgetting one key detail.”

You stare at him as he proceeds to give you the smuggest look you’ve ever seen on him. “I came home extremely early on my banner, didn’t I?”

What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense to you. He’s already treating you extremely differently than you anticipated, and now his question is putting your already malfunctioning brain into overdrive. What did his banner have to do with anything?

“What? Venti I-I don’t understand. What are you trying to…’ Finally, it all starts to click into place as your eyes widen, and his stupid grin gets larger. ‘You… Did you influence the banner wishes???”

Venti laughs joyously as he lets go of your face. His eyes sparkle like he’s recounting the best moment of his life.

“Why yes, I did! I actually got in a lot of trouble for that! It's part of the reason you lost the next 50/50, but I couldn’t miss the chance to join your team. I refused to wait another second.”

“But why? I still don’t under-”

“I have the freedom to make my own choices, do I not? I wanted to join your team, so I did.”

His expression changes from smug to such a soft look. You have a hard time believing it is being directed at you.

“Why, yes, I may be the God of Freedom, but I’m also simply one of the many characters this game has to offer. I’m one of your many characters in particular. And out of such a colourful cast of individuals, I was your favourite. To be the reason someone even downloaded our game in the first place sends me over the moon. For everyone else, you still give their lives a purpose and have earned everyone’s respect. Sure, you might be a bit crass, but even when you were rude or made a mistake, you still treated everyone with more care than necessary. I especially could feel and hear the level of adoration you had for me through the screen. To me, there’s nothing I want more than to travel by your side for as long as you’ll have me.”

Such a heartwarming and earnest speech from Venti has your eyes start to water again. Not all of your insecurities and guilt have been lifted, you don’t think that kind of guilt will be something you can get rid of, but with Venti here…

“You’re allowed to stay for as long as you want.”

He cups your cheeks again while looking straight into your eyes.

“Then till death do we part, my dear player.”

You break down and cry as Venti pulls you in for a hug. With Venti by your side, you know he’ll help you through your guilt with as much care and love as you’ve given him.

[almostgenerallyalways]

mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door. 

2022

Jake UT  [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT  [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

 2012

 You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.  

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

 2022

 You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

.

.

.

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

[nasa]

Why Isn’t Every Year the Warmest Year on Record?

This just in: 2022 effectively tied for the fifth warmest year since 1880, when our record starts. Here at NASA, we work with our partners at NOAA to track temperatures across Earth’s entire surface, to keep a global record of how our planet is changing.

Overall, Earth is getting hotter.

The warming comes directly from human activities – specifically, the release of greenhouse gases like carbon dioxide from burning fossil fuels. We started burning fossil fuels in earnest during the Industrial Revolution. Activities like driving cars and operating factories continue to release greenhouse gases into our atmosphere, where they trap heat in the atmosphere.

So…if we’re causing Earth to warm, why isn’t every year the hottest year on record?

As 2022 shows, the current global warming isn’t uniform. Every single year isn’t necessarily warmer than every previous year, but it is generally warmer than most of the preceding years. There’s a warming trend.

Earth is a really complex system, with various climate patterns, solar activity, and events like volcanic eruptions that can tip things slightly warmer or cooler.

Climate Patterns

While 2021 and 2022 continued a global trend of warming, they were both a little cooler than 2020, largely because of a natural phenomenon known as La Niña.

La Niña is one third of a climate phenomenon called El Niño Southern Oscillation, also known as ENSO, which can have significant effects around the globe. During La Niña years, ocean temperatures in the central and eastern Pacific Ocean cool off slightly. La Niña’s twin, El Niño brings warmer temperatures to the central and eastern Pacific. Neutral years bring ocean temperatures in the region closer to the average.

El Niño and La Niña affect more than ocean temperatures – they can bring changes to rainfall patterns, hurricane frequency, and global average temperature.

We’ve been in a La Niña mode the last three, which has slightly cooled global temperatures. That’s one big reason 2021 and 2022 were cooler than 2020 – which was an El Niño year.

Overall warming is still happening. Current El Niño years are warmer than previous El Niño years, and the same goes for La Niña years. In fact, enough overall warming has occurred that most current La Niña years are warmer than most previous El Niño years. This year was the warmest La Niña year on record.

Solar Activity

Our Sun cycles through periods of more and less activity, on a schedule of about every 11 years. Here on Earth, we might receive slightly less energy — heat — from the Sun during quieter periods and slightly more during active periods.

At NASA, we work with NOAA to track the solar cycle. We kicked off a new one – Solar Cycle 25 – after solar minimum in December 2019. Since then, solar activity has been slightly ramping up.

Because we closely track solar activity, we know that over the past several decades, solar activity hasn't been on the rise, while greenhouse gases have. More importantly, the "fingerprints" we see on the climate, including temperature changes in the upper atmosphere, don't fit the what we'd expect from solar-caused warming. Rather they look like what we expect from increased greenhouse warming, verifying a prediction made decades ago by NASA.

Volcanic Eruptions

Throughout history, volcanoes have driven major shifts in Earth’s climate. Large eruptions can release water vapor — a greenhouse gas like carbon dioxide — which traps additional warmth within our atmosphere.

On the flip side, eruptions that loft lots of ash and soot into the atmosphere can temporarily cool the climate slightly, by reflecting some sunlight back into space.

Like solar activity, we can monitor volcanic eruptions and tease out their effect on variations in our global temperature.

At the End of the Day, It’s Us

Our satellites, airborne missions, and measurements from the ground give us a comprehensive picture of what’s happening on Earth every day. We also have computer models that can skillfully recreate Earth’s climate.

By combining the two, we can see what would happen to global temperature if all the changes were caused by natural forces, like volcanic eruptions or ENSO. By looking at the fingerprints each of these climate drivers leave in our models, it’s perfectly clear: The current global warming we’re experiencing is caused by humans.

For more information about climate change, visit climate.nasa.gov.

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

[metamatar]

When electronics manufacturing took off in China in the 1980s, rural women who had just begun moving to the cities made up the majority of the factory workforce. They didn’t have many other options. Managers at companies like Foxconn preferred to hire women because they believed them to be more obedient [...]

Hiring a young, female workforce in India comes with its own requirements — which include reassuring doting parents about the safety of their daughters. The company offers workers free food, lodging, and buses to ensure a safe commute at all hours of the day. On days off, women who live in Foxconn hostels have a 6 p.m. curfew; permission is required to spend the night elsewhere. “[If] they go out and not return by a specific time, their parents would be informed,” a former Foxconn HR manager told Rest of World. “[That’s how] they offer trust to their parents.”

[...] the Tamil Nadu government sent a strong signal welcoming Foxconn and other manufacturers: Authorities approved new regulations that would increase workdays from eight to 12 hours. This meant that Foxconn and other electronics factories would be able to reduce the number of shifts needed to keep their production line running from three to two, just like in China. [...] Political parties aligned with the government called the bill “anti-labor” and, during the vote, walked out of the legislative assembly. After the bill passed, trade unions in the state announced a series of actions including a demonstration on motorbikes, civil disobedience campaigns, and protests in front of the ruling party’s local headquarters. The government shelved its new rule within four days.

Indian Foxconn workers told Rest of World that eight hours under intense pressure is already hard to bear. “I’ll die if it’s 12 hours of work,” said Padmini, the assembly line worker.

For the expatriate workers, the slower pace of the factory floors in India is its own shock to the system. A Taiwanese manager at a different iPhone supplier in the Chennai area told Rest of World that India’s 8-hour shifts and industry-standard tea breaks were a drag on production. “You have barely settled in on your seat, and the next break comes,” the manager lamented.

In China, Foxconn relies on lax enforcement of the country’s labor law — which limits workdays to eight hours and caps overtime — as well as lucrative bonuses to get employees to work 11 hours a day during production peaks [...] five Chinese and Taiwanese workers said they were surprised to discover that their Indian colleagues refused to work overtime. Some attributed it to a weak sense of responsibility; others to what they perceived as Indian people’s low material desire. “They are easily content,” an engineer deployed from Zhengzhou said. “They can’t handle even a bit more pressure. But if we don’t give them pressure, then we won’t be able to get everything right and move production here in a short time.” [...] At the same time, the expat staff enjoy the Indian work culture of tea breaks, chatting with colleagues, and going home on time. They recognize they are helping the company spread a Chinese work culture that they know can be unhealthy. [...]

On the assembly line, Foxconn’s targets were tough to reach, workers said. Jaishree, 21, joined the iPhone shop floor in 2022 as a recent graduate with a degree in mathematics. (With India’s high level of unemployment, Foxconn’s assembly line has plenty of women with advanced degrees, including MBAs.) [...] “At the start, during my eight-hour shift, I did about 300 [screws]. Now, I do 750,” she said. “We have to finish within time, otherwise they will scold us.” [...]

Mealtimes are an issue, too. In December 2021, thousands of Indian Foxconn employees protested after some 250 colleagues contracted food poisoning. In response, the company changed food contractors, and increased its monthly base salary from 14,000 rupees to 18,000 rupees ($168 to $216) — double the minimum wage prescribed by the Tamil Nadu labor department for unskilled workers. [...]

Working conditions take a physical toll. Padmini has experienced hair loss because she has to wear a skull cap and work in air-conditioned spaces, she said. “Neck pain is the worst, since we are constantly bending down and working.” She has irregular periods, which she attributes to the air conditioning and the late shifts. “[Among] girls with me on the production line, some six girls have this problem,” Padmini said. Workers said they regularly see colleagues become unwell. “The day before yesterday, a girl fainted and they took her to the hospital,” [...] Padmini, at 26, believes she is close to the age where the company might consider her too old. “They used to hire women up to age 30, now they hire only up to 28,” she said.

[pb524830]

anyone else

part: epilogue pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 8.2k c/w: sexual content, language, injury a/n: .... surprise!!!! i want to give the biggest shoutouts in the world to @imaginespazzi, @iminlovewithpaigebueckers, and @sellaspeaks. this fic truly could not have happened without them. i cannot tell you how many times i have bothered them with new ideas or snippets and they've offered their help. i <3 them.

AUGUST 2, 2022

I hate this hospital.

It’s enormously shitty to say. It’s state of the art, clean, smells vaguely like a hospital might. All in all, it’s an excellent facility.

I still fucking hate it.

It’s suffocatingly quiet. I clear my throat to break the silence.

“Do you, uh… do you need water?”

Paige stares ahead blankly, shaking her head. “Are you hungry?” I fidget uncomfortably. She’s not crying or angry or really anything at all. It’s disconcerting, to say the least. She shakes her head again wordlessly. I chew the inside of my cheek, wishing I had the right words to say to her, but I just don’t. 

The pickup game had been just like any other. Paige would take any opportunity to hoop. You could tell she felt most at home with the ball in her hands. She looked the most natural with it there, too. Sometimes, when she couldn’t think, she’d shoot a mini ball into the hoop on the back of her door, or dribble a ball between her legs, much to the chagrin of my downstairs neighbors. But I loved that about her. I loved watching her play the sport she loved, so I pretended to let her convince me to come to her pickup games. She’d drag me to these things and I’d sit with a book in my hands or my laptop perched on my legs, but my eyes were on her the whole time - watching her smile and laugh and pretending as though those two things weren’t my entire world.

I was watching her when she went down again.

It was like deja vu. Like watching her get hurt last December all over again. She was writhing at the floor, grasping at her knee, and I was at her side instantly.

She’d tell me later that she’d felt her ACL tear, felt it pop and just about heard it, too. She’d tell me that the second she felt my hand at the small of her back, the pain was more or less gone. I’d laugh at her tearfully, resisting the urge to kiss her and finding it impossible not to love her and her stupid heart.

Now, I watch her wallow in her own thoughts, assuming the worst, hoping for something maybe a little better. She hasn’t moved since we came out of the MRI room to sit in the waiting room. Caroline and Azzi and a couple of the other girls are here, too.

Suddenly, Paige’s hand inches towards mine. She doesn’t glance around to see if someone is watching, so I don’t either. I just take her hand quietly, intertwining our fingers and squeezing. Carefully, we shift so that her head can rest against my shoulder, and her good leg bends to plant on the couch, resting against my body. I bring our hands to my mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, and rub soothing circles onto her hand with my thumb.

And though Paige hasn’t said anything, I can tell from the way she grips my hand that she’s fucking terrified. 

A pang runs through me. Is this what it had been like last time? When I’d just left the next morning?

I hadn’t been there for the MRI.

I hadn’t been there for her surgery. She’d texted me that day to tell me happy birthday.

Fuck. I don’t deserve her. 

I glance down at her, and her blue eyes are trained on me. I place a kiss, one meant just for the two of us, on her forehead. I really, really don’t deserve her. I vow to myself, and to her, that I’ll stay until I do. 

OCTOBER 20, 2022

“Go back to sleep.”

“But it’s my birthday.”

“You never wake up earlier than 9 A.M.,” I groan, smothering Paige’s face with my hand. I feel something wet on the inside of my palm, and I shoot up to a sitting position, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you just lick me?” I demand. Her smile is sheepish, but there’s a childlike, triumphant glimmer in her eyes. “You’re up, aren’t you?” She reasons. 

I smack her forehead lightly with the heel of my palm. “You’re so stupid,” I chide, but I let her pull me into her and push my body against the bed again. She hovers over me, her hair curtaining our faces as she grins down at me. I fight a smile as I look back up at her, taking in the stark blue of her eyes, slightly puffy from sleep, her full bottom lip. “You want a picture?” She teases, watching me watch her. “Shut up,” I tell her softly, then loop an arm around her neck to pull her lips to mine. 

God, I love kissing this girl.

I sometimes think that if I did nothing but kiss her, just rolling around in her sheets that smell like her, getting to kiss those lips that taste like her, I’d feel pretty fulfilled with what I’d done in life. 

She pulls away, and I make a face at her. “You have morning breath,” I inform her.

Paige smiles down at me, knowing what I really mean.

Kiss me again and never stop kissing me.

She pecks my lips again, pulling back to look at me.

“Your eyes are so fuckin’ pretty,” she mumbles. She traces my lips with her finger. “Damn. I really get to wake up to you everyday?” I laugh hoarsely, shrugging to the best of my ability from where I’m trapped in her arms. “That’s what they’re saying,” I laugh, and I reach up to kiss her again, several soft, repeated pecks as my hand steadies her jaw. 

She sighs, separating us again, but she keeps her eyes on my face. I shift uneasily. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?” I ask. She shakes her head, eyes glued to mine.

“I love you.”

My heart stops. And then it starts again, beating a million miles a minute.

“What?” I breathe.

She chuckles, tugging on a curl of my hair. “I said ‘I love you’, dumbass.”

I recover from my shock, slowly grinning at her. We’d been skirting around this for months. We both knew, possibly since the day we met, that we were head over heels. Ruined for life, well and truly smitten, and any other possible iteration of the words ‘hopelessly in love’. But saying it out loud felt… scary? Maybe, I don’t know.

It also felt like such a mundane way to describe how I felt about her.

I mean, how could those three words possibly encapsulate the way I wanted to bottle up the sound of her laughter? The way her touch made me feel whole, the way I felt that in this life and in every other life, I would search every fucking corner of the earth for her if it meant I could kiss her just once?

“Say that again,” I say.

Her eyebrows raise. “I love you?” She says, almost as a question.

I turn us over to crawl on top of her, cupping her face in my hands. I smooch a cheesy kiss against her mouth, peppering kisses on her cheeks. “Again,” I demand, smiling. She laughs. “I love you, Ava.” I place kisses all over her face, loving the way she giggles under me before wiggling out of my hold to squeeze my body against hers. “I think there’s something you’re supposed to say back,” she muses.

I raise an eyebrow. “The feeling is not mutual,” I deadpan. For a moment, her face drops and her grip on me loosens. I feel a little bad immediately, but I grin at her anyway. “I love you too, headass,” I admit, and she smiles in relief. “Don’t ever do that shit again,” she warns me, but she kisses me again, and just like all the other times, it feels so right.

DECEMBER 13, 2022

“He just wants your autograph. Or a picture, probably.”

“He’s staring at you,” Paige gripes.

I roll my eyes, kicking her under the table. We had come out to this cheap diner for my birthday because I’d let Paige pick the spot and because neither of us really cared where we went. She’d spoiled me all day. That NIL money is really something; a huge bouquet of flowers as soon as I woke up, a Van Cleef bracelet, a promise ring (which I’d begrudgingly cried over), and tickets to a Timberwolves game (we’re both from Minnesota). Besides, the diner is very us - we’d come here over two years ago.

According to Paige, it was where she realized she was really falling for me. I called bullshit.

Now, she’s shooting daggers at our poor waiter, who’s been nervous and flustered all night. Unfortunately, Paige is under the impression that everyone in the world wants me. Realistically, the gangly teenager who’s been refilling our waters all night is probably just a huge fan. 

“Here’s the check. Can I get you anything else?” The boy - his name tag says Daniel - just about stutters. He can’t be more than sixteen. Paige narrows her eyes at him, and he gulps, averting his eyes to me. Paige takes the check, handing him her card. She never lets me pay for a damn thing, so I just sneak the occasional twenty into her sock drawer. 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Paige asks him. I shoot her a look, startled. “Huh?” He stammers. Oh, this poor kid. I kick her under the table again, but she doesn’t stop. “Do you think she’s pretty?” She asks again, her tone disturbingly serious. Daniel looks frozen, his eyes wide as he looks between me and her. “Uh… yes?” He tries. He sounds positively petrified. Paige nods, tapping the pen against the table. “I do, too,” she hums thoughtfully. She reaches for my hand, tapping the ring on my finger. “So I put a ring on it.” I gape at her, my cheeks burning. No fucking way.

Poor Daniel still looks extremely confused, so she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “She’s taken, idiot,” she spells out for him. He immediately begins spluttering. “Oh, I didn’t… I wasn’t- like, she’s very pretty- you’re very pretty- but I wasn’t hitting on her. I just… wanted a p-picture?” He rushes all of this out in one breath, turning to me, then back to Paige. 

I glare at Paige, whose lips are pursed and whose eyes are wide with guilt. “Oh,” she intones. “Yeah. Yeah, of course,” she amends quickly, standing up to take the picture with him. In my head, I alternate between bursting out laughing and banging my head against the table.

Paige has always been a very possessive person, but ever since we made things official last semester, she’s taken it to a whole new level. If we’re at parties, she keeps a hand at the small of my back or draped lazily around my shoulder. She knows I’m not huge on the PDA, so she fends people off with the small things.

If she could, she’d shove her tongue down my throat every time someone so much as glanced in my direction. 

I decide once we exit the diner that laughter is the only viable option.

I guffaw at her, doubling over and elbowing her in the side as we walk towards her car. “Stop it,” she complains. I can’t, quite frankly, and I’m laughing so hard my side starts to hurt. “You’re so fucking stupid,” I gasp. “Okay, yeah, I overreacted a little. You can’t tell me it didn’t look like he wanted you,” she argues.

I howl as I tug her car door open, my body shaking with laughter as I hop up into the passenger seat. “Oh, my gosh,” I gasp. “I can’t believe that just happened. And you thought you were so tough, too.” Paige looks offended, climbing into the car and pushing her key into the ignition. “Yo, what? I was! Bro, he was shitting himself!” I laugh even harder at this and she pouts.

“Nah, actually, I’m gonna let every guy who wants you make a pass at you. Fuck do I look like?” She demands, glaring at me, pulling the key out of the ignition. I calm down, grabbing her bicep and rubbing her arm to appease her. “You did great, baby. Thank you for defending my honor from a sixteen year old,” I say, trying to stay straight-faced, but the last part of the sentence sets me off. 

“Ava!” She complains again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s kind of funny.”

Paige lunges over to the passenger seat, entrapping me in her embrace, her arms tight around my body. “You ungrateful little shit,” she scolds playfully. “I put my life on the line for you just now.” I gape at her. “You had at least half a foot on him,” I inform her. She shakes her head, gazing at me.

“You know how I get about you,” she reminds me quietly, searching my eyes.

I sigh, giving her a kiss. “I know. That’s why I’m not mad,” I remind her, and she pulls a face at me, returning back to the driver’s seat reluctantly. 

“It’s hot, most of the time,” I admit. She smirks at me, backing out of the parking space with one hand on the wheel, the other braced on the back of my seat. “Oh, yeah?” She asks. I nod, taking her hand when she rights the car.

“Mhm. Just not when you’re about to beat the shit out of a tenth grader.”

“Fuck off.”

DECEMBER 2022

Drew hides behind his dad, peering out at me. We’ve just reached her dad’s house in Virginia, and we’re planning on spending Christmas here with her family and Azzi’s. Paige’s house is warm and cozy, her basketball memorabilia hanging on walls or balanced on shelves. There’s pictures of her from all ages, at ten, with her jersey hanging loose off of her slender shoulders, a sheepish smile on her face. At twenty-one, her frame filled out, her chest puffed, shoulders broad, smirk wide.

“Drew, it’s okay,” Paige soothes, beckoning him closer. Paige’s little brother’s eyes flick to her, and they light up when he remembers that she’s here, too. My heart swells as he barrels towards her, nearly knocking her back with a hug. She lets out an exaggerated grunt as she picks him up. It’s so cute that it’s almost suffocating.

Drew locks his arms around his sister’s neck, burying his face into her shoulder. “I missed you, Paigey,” he mumbles. He glances at me, and then his eyes go wide again, before he hides his face back in his sister’s shirt. “Hey, Drew. Come on. Say hi,” Paige urges. I laugh. My nephew is the same way around new people. “P, it’s okay,” I reassure her. I’m more than happy to watch the two of them interact.

Drew chances another glance at me, watching me quietly. He turns to Paige to whisper in her ear. Her mouth twitches into a smile at what he says. “She is very pretty,” she appears to agree. Drew hits her on the arm. “Paigey!” He whines, his face growing a little red. I laugh at this, inching closer. “Well, Drew, I think you are very handsome,” I tell him. His mouth twists, lips pursing, before he relents, a small smile on his face. “Really?” He asks. I nod. “I think we could be really good friends,” I sing-song, and he grins at this, clambering off from his sister to come stand in front of me. 

I give him my hand to shake, and he takes it eagerly. Paige watches us, eyes flicking between me and her brother. “I’m Avantika,” I introduce myself. “Avantika,” he mumbles quietly, nodding. He looks up at me, his innocent eyes wide. “Your name is pretty, too,” he says in awe. I laugh again at that, and Paige frowns. “Drew,” she warns. “What?” He demands, his tiny hands on his hips as he turns to sass his sister. He really is her little mini-me, right down to the attitude. 

“Can I pick you up?” I ask him. Drew nods eagerly, and I edge my hands under his armpits, hoisting him onto my hip. He hesitates before wrapping his arms around my shoulders, and I nearly die from how sweet it is. He lurches back, his eyes wide as he stares at his sister. “She smells like cookies!” He exclaims gleefully, and I giggle even harder at that, squeezing him to me. 

- Paige’s Point of View -

It’s official. My nine year old brother has stolen my girlfriend.

He’s colonized her lap, sitting with her on the couch to regale her with stories of his rec team’s basketball escapades, or how much he despises this one girl in his fourth grade class. I narrow my eyes.

“... Switch with Paige,” Ava is saying. I snap out of my trance. “Sorry?” I ask for clarification. Ava grins wickedly at me. “I was telling Drew that since I like him so much better, you guys should switch. You stay here and I’ll take him back to Storrs.” Drew nods happily at this, nestling further into Ava’s lap.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I huff, reaching over to tug Drew off of my girlfriend, but he holds fast to her. “No!” He yells, kicking at me. “No?” I demand. He shakes his head adamantly, and Ava squeezes him to her. “No,” she affirms. I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Drew, I’m not playing with you right now. If you steal my girl, I will fight you,” I tell him. Ava rolls her eyes, turning to him. “We all know you would win that,” she reassures him. He giggles, and she places a big kiss on his temple. 

My heart swells watching her with him, seeing him snuggle into her as she shows him pictures on her phone, or the rapt attention with which she listens to him talk. 

I get a sudden vision - the two of us, in our own house. She’s done with medical school, I’ve been in the league a few years, and the kitchen is tiled with sage green. We’d argued over it, because I’d wanted purple, I’m sure, but I couldn’t say no to her. I never could. I kiss her good morning, and she hands me coffee, something saccharine sweet with a new flavor of creamer I’ve dared to try that week. And there’s a miniature her, or me, but probably her, because she’d just be so easy to love. Perched at the kitchen table, her nose buried in a book.

Drew laughs out loud as Ava’s fingers dig into his sides, tickling him.

And I’ll think back to this moment, years in the future. I’ll remember their laughter melding together and Ava’s voice tinkling as she tells him embarrassing stories about me. I’ll remember the smile she shoots me, and the feeling of home that shudders through me. And I’ll remember the weight on my chest, heavy, steady, reassuring - that I want to spend the rest of forever with this girl with the beautiful eyes and the beautiful name and the beautiful smile.

I watch them interact all day, almost giddy at the sight, but pretending to pout. “Drew, you’re spending more time with her than me,” I complain, trying to lay my head on her lap. He shoves me away immediately. “Ava and I are besties now,” he tells me firmly. She nods solemnly. “We are,” she agrees, shrugging. My mouth drops open. “I thought we were besties,” I whine to him, and he rolls his eyes. “Paigey. We need to learn to share,” he instructs, holding a hand up to me. I flick his forehead, and Ava dies of laughter. 

Later that night, Ava’s brushing her teeth over my bathroom sink, and something about her in my ratty old Hopkins t-shirt, in my family’s house, looking completely at home, is dangerously enticing. The shirt is big on her, and it slides down to expose her bare shoulder and the tattoo she has on her collarbone of the Sagittarius constellation. Her hand rests on her hip, bunching the shirt above her wrist, riding it up so the band of her panties is visible to me.

I inch behind her as she gargles, spitting out water. She turns to leave, but I hold her there, resting my hand on hers, looping the other arm around her waist. I splay a hand across her torso, and dip my nose into her neck, inhaling her scent. Ava sighs, leaning back into me, watching me intently in the mirror. 

I ruck her shirt up further, exposing her panties completely, winding my arms around her bare stomach, before letting my hands wander over her thighs and her hips. “He really likes you,” I tell her, referring to my brother. She smiles softly. “I like him, too. He makes me miss my nephew,” she admits, smiling slightly.

I kiss her neck, loving the way she sighs again. “You’re really good with him,” I hum, peppering a few more kisses down the column of her throat. She lets her head loll to the side, giving me more access as her hands trace over my arms. “You think so?” She breathes. I kiss at her jaw, sucking a little, and she lets out a quiet moan. 

“I do,” I reply, smirking into her skin. She’s normally cold, but right now, her body is burning. I run a hand over her ass, then back over her stomach, then into her shirt to tease her breast. “Mmm,” she lets out. “I liked it a lot,” I whisper. She smirks at me in the mirror. “Yeah, I bet you did,” she muses, turning around to face me. She hooks a finger in my pajama pants, pulling me closer as she backs into the counter. My hands go to her ass immediately, loving the way it feels in my hands, loving the way I’m the only one who gets to touch her like this.

I hoist her up onto my bathroom counter. “You know what I was thinking?” I murmur, ghosting my lips over hers. “Mmm, what?” She asks. Fuck. Her voice is low, sultry. It’s hard to keep my hands off of her regularly. Her lips are so fucking kissable, and her volleyball shorts leave next to nothing to the imagination. Not to mention those shirts she wears when we go out. I remember this one time she showed up in this blue corset top, cinched tight at the waist, her tits perky and full over the top of it.

I’d fucked her in it that night.

I grin at the memory, licking my lips, feeling her breath stuttering against them. I lean in, and she edges away, but her hands drift to my body. She edges them under my tank top. “What, baby?” She urges. The nickname and the way she says it sends a jolt between my legs. “I was thinking…” I start teasing, and she bites her lip, her eyes trained on my mouth. I ruck her shirt up further, moving my hands up her back before massaging her ass. “Tell me,” she whispers.

I grin wickedly.

“I was thinking I wanna put a baby in you.”

She damn near moans at that. “You think I could do it?” I hum, nipping at her lips.

“Fuck. Try,” she almost begs. My resolve snaps at that, and I crash my mouth to hers, moaning against her lips. She responds hungrily, shoving her hands into my tank top to run them over my bare skin, dancing over my abs, clinging to my hips. I slide my hands under her ass and pull her to me, letting her wrap her legs around my waist and carrying her to my bed.

I throw her against my sheets and crawl on top of her, devouring her lips, basking in the way her leg wraps around my waist to press me closer. “I’m serious,” I murmur, ripping her shirt over head and kneeling to straddle her waist. I take her tits in my hands, kneading them sensually, and she moans. I shake my head, drinking in the sight of her body.

The tattoo just under her breast in Sanskrit, the scar across her hip bone from when she hurt herself hiking, her butterfly belly button ring. I tug at her nipple, and my cunt pulses at the sound that falls out of her mouth.

“I wanna marry you,” I breathe, squeezing her breasts again. I grind my hips against hers, and her eyes look up at me, glimmering. “I’m already naked, you don’t have to say all that,” she teases.

I shake my head. “I wanna fucking marry you, dude,” I say again, insistently. Her eyes soften, realizing the sincerity of my words. She doesn’t say anything, just pulls me down to kiss me, her mouth saying everything without uttering a single word. “Wanna marry you. Want you to have my kids,” I rasp, pressing her into the bed. “Yes. Everything. All of it,” she responds, nodding eagerly.

I run my hands over her body, her skin smooth, her body pliant under my fingers. “I want a beach wedding,” I tell her, pulling her panties down her legs. “In California?” She breathes, sitting on her knees to take my tank top off. I shrug it off, my torso bare, and she attaches her mouth to my stomach, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere. “Yeah. And a house. In Minnesota.” I sigh as she kisses my nipples, then pushes my pants down my hips. I ruck them off and toss them to the side. She sits back on her haunches, looking at me.

I used to hate being stared at. I mean, when I was a freshman, hooking up with girls for the first time, I’d keep the lights off. I have an athlete’s body, and I’m proud of it, I’ve worked for it. But these girls, with their slender shoulders and narrow waists and full breasts… that wasn’t me. I’m angles and lines and broad shoulders and muscle and sinew. Even when I was naked for her for the first time, I was terrified. This beautiful girl, with curves and thighs and all of it mine to hold and touch and caress, and I couldn’t offer her the same. But she’d braced her hands on my hips, staring down at my body in awe. She’d told me I was perfect.

See, when Ava looks at me, it’s like she can’t believe I’m real. 

She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” she breathes. “Stop it,” I chide, tugging at her hands. She sits up further on her knees. “No, you’re… you don’t even understand, Paige,” she insists. I look her in the eyes. “Show me,” I tell her.

Ava knows what I mean. She knows what I want. She sits back, laying against the bed, knees bent, her elbows propping her up.

Slowly, slowly, she separates her legs. She spreads them wide, biting her lip as she stares me down, her gaze challenging. My pussy drenches at the sight. “This what you wanted to see?” She asks coyly. I reach into my backpack next to my bed. “You know what to do,” I say and she smirks. 

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

This girl and her doe eyes that she flutters at me while she does the filthiest things to herself… she’s going to be the death of me.

I slip into the strap as her eyes hold mine. She places her two middle fingers in her mouth. Swirls them around. Then she trails them down her body. I follow them hungrily. I watch as they hover over her pussy, right at her clit. Then she swipes them up through her wetness and she circles her clit and she moans.

Loud.

“Fuck,” I groan, wrenching her hand away and plunging into her. Her back arches up off the bed. “Shit!” She gasps. I don’t give her any time to adjust. I just pound into her, gripping her hips harshly enough that I’m sure there will be marks tomorrow. Good. Good. I want my fingerprints all over her.

I want bruises on her neck.

I want marks on her thighs, I want my name tattooed across the small of her back so I can see it when I drive into her from behind.

I want everything from her. Everything.

And she’d let me have it. She keens as I fuck her, mouth open and jaw locked in a permanent silent moan, noises emitting from the back of her throat. “Feel good?” I demand. She lets out a whine, and I'm grateful for how thick the walls in this house are. “I need words,” I say, licking my fingers to circle her clit. She shudders when my fingers touch her, thighs quivering as I force them open.

“Fuck. Fuck, yes.”

“Who’s making you feel like this?”

“You- shit. Oh, shit.”

“What’s my fucking name?” I say, my voice uncharacteristically deep with desire. 

“I- Please, Paige.”

“Who?”

“Paige,” she begs, gesturing for me to come closer. I do, pressing into her body as I continue fucking into her. She kisses me hard, her mouth open against mine as every profanity in the book slips out from between her lips. She drags her nails down my back and I groan into her mouth, which she swallows needily. 

My hand circles her neck loosely. “You almost there?” I mumble against her mouth. She nods, her face screwing with pleasure and the tension of her impending orgasm. “You gonna come for me?” I ask. My hips snap against hers and I reach my hand down again to pressure her clit, rubbing rapid circles against it. My fingers are slick with her, and I can hear it, hear the sound of me pushing in and out of her wetness, hear just how fucking bad she wants me.

And when she comes, with a cry of my name into my shoulder, teeth digging into my skin, her thighs shaking around my hips, her come soaking the covers underneath, I nearly finish, too. “Fuck,” she whispers against my lips, grinding up against me to ride herself through it. “Always take it so good, don’t you?” I coo, and she bites her lip, nodding at me with her eyes wide.

“Take my cock so good for me?” I ask, pushing in and out of her again. She whines at how sensitive she is, and I grip her neck harder. “Don’t you?” I demand. She nods, but I don’t stop talking, slowly fucking into her again. “Letting me fuck you like this in someone else’s house,” I tut, and she immediately looks guilty. “So dirty,” I tease, my voice low and seductive, and I watch her tits bounce as I speed up again, her mouth dropping open, core pulsing at the sound of my voice.

“Paige, I can’t-”

“You will.”

And if I drive into her especially hard that night, if I fuck her until she has tears streaming down her face and if I fuck her after that, if I make her come more times than is appropriate to make a girl come in your parents’ house, she has no one to blame but herself.

After all, she told me to try.

And I’m nothing if not persistent.

JUNE 2023 

- Ava’s Point of View -

“I got roses. She likes roses, right?”

“Yes, Paige. She also likes punctuality.”

“Shit. Am I late? I’m gonna speed.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Already speeding. Be there soon!”

“Drive safe. Love you!”

Paige is meeting my family. Which, in retrospect, doesn’t seem like a big deal. Both my parents moved to the States very young, so they aren’t as traditional and are very accepting. Paige really has to pass the test with my older brother, who’s extremely protective. 

I hear a knock at the door, and I rush to open it before he can. “Arjun, move!” I complain when he tries blocking me from getting to the door. My mom shoots us a look. “No fighting with guests in the house,” she warns. I shove him away and storm to the door, glaring at him over my shoulder. 

My brother, at the ripe age of twenty-seven, sticks his tongue out at me. His wife, thank God for her, pulls him out of the hallway and back into the kitchen so I can open the door in peace. Paige looks hilariously nervous. I’ve seen her play on some of the biggest stages you can as a college athlete, and she’s never looked as anxious as she does right now. 

She’s wearing a pair of loose blue jeans, a white collared shirt, and a red sweater over it with her cross necklace and one with an A layered on top of it. Her hair is down and stick-straight, glossy and blonde from just having got it done. She has a bit of makeup on, some concealer, gloss, and mascara, and her eyes are stark blue. She looks beautiful. I bite back a smile as she grins at me nervously.

I step aside to let her into my house. “I, uh…” She waves the bouquet in her hands a little. “These are for your mom.” “For me?” My mom asks, her eyes lighting up as she approaches from behind. She looks just like me, everyone says. We have the same long, curly hair, and my dad says we have the same eyes and nose. Paige stammers. “Uh, yes. Hi, I’m Paige.” She hesitates, trying to figure out which hand she should use to give my mom the flowers and which she should hold out to shake.

I roll my eyes, grabbing the flowers from her, knowing that my mother won’t settle for a handshake. Just as I thought, she envelops Paige in a hug, squeezing her tight. Paige immediately relaxes, hugging my mom back. I watch as my mom pulls back, gushing about how gorgeous she is. My dad is next, shaking her hand firmly, but glancing at me with a glimmer in my eye. A little bit of relief washes over me. He approves.

My brother puffs his chest, brushing past me, and I roll my eyes. He’s ridiculous. He only has a couple inches on her, but he tries to make it seem like more, standing up straighter. Paige holds out a hand for him to shake. “Paige,” she introduces herself. “Arjun,” he replies, gripping her hand. It looks like a pretty tight grip to me, and he shakes it just once. “So you’re the chick dating my sister, huh?” He questions.

“Oh, my God. Mom, can you get your son in check?” I beg, handing her the flower.

“He’s just asking a question,” she reasons, smiling as she heads back to the kitchen.

Paige grins at him sheepishly. “Yes, I am.”

“You treat her well?”

She shifts uneasily. “I’d like to think so.”

I scoff. “This is ridi-”

“You think so?” Arjun demands. 

Paige stammers. “No. Yes. Yes, I treat her well.”

I groan, grabbing her hand and tugging my girlfriend away from my psychotic brother. “Very well!” I toss over my shoulder. We run right into my nephew, Aryan. He shakes his full head of curly hair as he stares up at her with wide eyes, toddling around on his little four year old legs. “And who is this?” Paige asks, her eyes lighting up at the sight of a child. “I’m Aryan!” He chirps. “Do you want to see my hoop?” 

“Um, yes?” She says, as though it’s obvious. 

“Yay! Follow me!” He instructs, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the miniature hoop we have set up in the living room for him. My brother played basketball too, being fairly tall, so I’d grown up around the sport. He wants his son to play, too, so we’ve got a hoop at his house and my parents’ house. Paige tosses the plastic orange ball back and forth with Aryan.

I watch them interact, listening to their conversation.

“You know, I play basketball,” she tells him.

“Really? Are you really good?” He demands immediately. Aryan isn’t exactly shy.

“Mmm. I’m okay,” she tells him. He throws the ball back to her, and I giggle when it bonks her in the head.

“Are you better than the Greek Freak?” He asks.

Paige grins at this. “Than Giannis? I don’t think so,” she admits.

I smile. Aryan looks at me. “My Chachi tried to tell me how to say his last name, except for I can’t do it,” he says sadly. Paige’s brow furrows. “What is… who is Chachi?” She asks. The Hindi word for ‘aunt’ sounds foreign on her lips, but it warms my heart. Aryan points to me, jumping up and down, squealing, “Avantika Chachi!”

“Yes, Aryan!” I call back.

“Come play!”

We spend the next thirty minutes or so playing with Aryan. He gets pretty comfortable with her pretty quickly, clambering all over her and tugging her hair. She lets him, and it makes me love her that much more. My love for her fills my heart so quickly and intensely that I think it just might burst from how impossible it must be to love her any more than I already do.

When my parents announce that dinner is ready, Paige leaps to her feet. “Mr. and Mrs. Singh, do you need any help?” She asks, standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Kiss ass, I think fondly. My mom tuts at her. “Paige, of course not! You’re a guest!” She exclaims.

She carries a huge pot of rice over to the dining table, and Paige’s eyes widen at the sight of all the food my mom has laid out in preparation for meeting her daughter’s girlfriend. I nudge her. “Fatass,” I tease. “Avantika, language,” my mom scolds. “Look at her, she’s so thin! Come eat, put some meat on those bones,” she says to Paige, whose mouth drops open. I suppose her clothes do a good enough job of hiding her muscles, but Paige has always been on the leaner side. 

“Mom, you can’t say that!” Arjun tells her, herding Aryan into the dining room, but my mother waves him off. He crawls onto Paige’s lap instead of his normal seat. “Aryan, sit in your chair,” his mom tells him. My brother’s wife is a sweet white woman named Jennie, whom my parents adore. The thing is, Aryan doesn’t listen to a word she says. He stays firmly planted on Paige’s lap.

Paige takes the spice from the food like a champ. Jennie always drinks loads of water, but Paige doesn’t seem to need it. She gushes to my mom about how good all the food is, and my mom beams. “See, this is how you should eat,” she says to me and my brother, and the two of us immediately start complaining, talking over each other.

“Enough,” my dad commands, and we both fall silent. Arjun pushes food around his plate, clearing his throat. 

“So, you play basketball?” He asks her. I roll my eyes. “Yes, Arjun, Paige plays basketball. Just like Michael Jordan ‘played basketball’ or Tom Brady ‘dabbled in football’.” 

“I’m just making conversation.”

“Make it better.”

“It’s okay,” Paige chuckles, laying a hand on my arm. “Yeah, I play at UConn like Ava.”

He nods, pretending not to be impressed. The truth is, my brother is a pretty big fan of hers. “I saw your tournament run last year. Good shit,” he relents. She nods. “Yeah, thanks. Wish we could have finished it off right, but, you know… next year.”

My brother nods thoughtfully, shrugging. “Hey, Bron’s lost six times in the Finals. He’s still the GOAT.”

I freeze, my eyes widening. Shit.

Paige turns to me, her grin shit-eating. “Did you hear that?” She just about sings. I pick at my food. “Mm, I didn’t hear anything,” I say. Arjun is confused. “What? What’s going on?” He asks. 

“No, no, your brother makes a great point. I’m sorry, she said she didn’t hear what you said, do you mind repeating it?”

“Enough, Paige.”

Arjun furrows his eyebrows. “What, that LeBron James is the greatest player of all time?”

Paige closes her eyes and nods to herself, holding a hand up to me dramatically. “God, it feels so good to be right.”

I scrunch my face at her. “That doesn’t mean you’re right, dumbass! That just means you’re both wrong.”

“Language!” My mom chides.

Arjun’s face lights up. “Wait, you have Bron in the GOAT debate?” He asks.

Paige grins at him. “Yeah, I got Bron!” 

I sit back and pout, watching them scramble to their feet to dap each other up.

“Oh, you better marry this one,” Arjun says gleefully, sitting back down. Paige is grinning uncontrollably. “I love it here,” she smiles. “You guys don’t know ball,” I snap.

“Says the one who doesn’t play basketball,” Arjun argues.

“MJ has as many rings as LeBron does Finals losses, are you guys stupid?”

“At least Bron didn’t retire at 30!” Paige exclaims.

“MJ literally came back after that! And won three more rings!” I say incredulously.

“I’m so sick of this conversation,” my mom groans. My brother and I had this argument time after time growing up, and my parents have heard every possible variation of it.

Arjun smiles to himself, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He wags his finger at Paige. “I like this one. Keep her.”

FEBRUARY 2024

Paige hasn’t spoken to me all day. It’s making me anxious, because tonight is Senior Night, and I know her decision is impending. I’ll be happy either way. I’ve decided to take my fifth year and complete an MBA program here at UConn while I apply to medical school. While I’d love to have her stay with me for a fifth year as well, I know she’s been ready to head to the WNBA since she was in high school. I’d be ecstatic if she declared tonight - she’s fucking incredible.

She’s also fucking annoying. She left early this morning, because she knew that seeing me would make it really easy for me to figure out what her decision was. According to her, only her parents and Azzi know. 

I watch, racked with nerves from just behind the bench, as Paige approaches Coach Geno to take her flowers and her framed jersey. I’m taken back to my own senior night. Paige had walked with me, along with my family. It hadn’t been an announcement of our relationship by any means, it had been more like: “Avantika Singh, escorted by her parents, brother, and… Paige Bueckers.”

Obviously, the rumor mill had immediately been abuzz. It’s not that we were necessarily secretive about our relationship, it was just that media attention on Paige had always been more than that of a normal college athlete. Which made sense. I mean, she is spectacular. People on campus more or less knew, but verbally affirming our relationship to people who weren’t our teammates or families had yet to happen.

We were both fine with it either way. I left it more up to Paige - she was the one with the million Instagram followers.

She takes the mic from Geno, clearing her throat. She starts her sappy speech about how UConn fans are the best in the world, how the past four years haven’t gone as planned, and my heart pounds. I can feel it in my ears, and my head nearly hurts from it. “Unfortunately…” My heart drops to my feet at this. She’s declaring. Okay, that’s fine. I have to be supportive. Phoenix and Connecticut are far, sure, but we’ll make it work…

“This will not be my last senior night at UConn, because I’m coming back!”

The arena erupts in cheers before she can even get the second part of her sentence out, and I don’t even process it at first. My hands fly to my mouth, my eyes pricking with tears. The team on the floor is a mess jumping onto Paige and Aubrey, and it looks like it’s news to Geno, as well. 

Paige catches my eye, peering into the stands. I shake my head at her, fighting a smile. 

She holds her hands out, flicking her fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture almost imperceptibly.

I sprint out of the stands towards her, leaping onto her and throwing my arms around her neck. She laughs, wrapping her arms tight around my waist and holding me. “You dumbass,” I complain. “You could have told me.” I pull back to look at her, grateful for the fact that people are filing out and that the team is loud and raucous enough to cover us from most of the cameras. She shrugs - or tries to. 

“Yeah, I could have,” she reasons. “But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see this smile.”

I ease myself off of her, unable to stop myself from grinning. “God, you’re corny,” I tease.

“You love it.”

I sigh. “I do,” I admit.

Then Paige gets pulled away for media, and Geno and CD usher me after her. “What?” I ask, confused. CD shakes her head. “Come on. You’re going to want to see this.” I stumble into the room for media personnel, and see a table set up with four chairs and mics. I’m confused. “Wait… what’s going on?” I ask. Geno shrugs, a twinkle in his old eyes.

It’s about twenty minutes before Aubrey, Nika, Aaliyah, and Paige come out, all wearing ridiculous sunglasses, and sit at the media table. The media people start with routine questions, asking Nika and Aaliyah if they plan on staying, to which they respond tiredly that they don’t know. I nearly giggle at the canned response. I know those two have been rehearsing it since the season started.

Aubrey pokes fun at Geno for announcing that she’s coming back prematurely. Then they ask Paige how she feels about the decision.

“You know, it feels like a weight off my shoulders. Obviously, a lot of thought went into this decision. I talked to my family, my teammates, my coaches, and, uh…” she pauses, a shit-eating grin taking over her face before it fades into a smirk. I swear she glances at me, because I can feel her eyes on me, but I can’t really see properly through her glasses. 

“I talked to my girlfriend, who had to make a pretty similar decision recently. And, yeah. It just felt right, and to be able to do that in front of the best fans in the country… It meant a lot.”

My mouth drops open, and I turn to CD. “Did she just..?” I demand. CD nods, smiling at me. “I think she did.”

The media personnel are buzzing with excitement at the little tidbit that Paige has just let slip, but I don’t hear a single word of the rest of the press conference. I march straight to the locker room, seating myself on a bench. 

Paige walks in just a few minutes later, laughing with the rest of the seniors. She spots me on the bench, arms crossed, one leg over the other. 

“Are you mad?” She asks sheepishly. I get up, not saying a word, and begin walking towards her.

“Okay, maybe I should have asked. Don’t be-”

I stop her, grabbing her face and pulling it to mine.

And I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her, I kiss her until the rest of the world fades away, until it feels like I can’t tell where I begin and she ends, until nothing and no one else matters. When I pull back, there’s tears on my face. “Okay, so you’re not mad,” she guesses, and I shake my head, smiling.

“I love you,” I tell her firmly.

She grins. “I love you, too.” She pecks my nose.

“Another year together,” I giggle, cupping her face tightly.

Paige laughs. “Another year, and every year after that, if that’s okay with you,” she murmurs.

I laugh shakily, standing on my tiptoes to kiss her again.

“How does forever sound?”

And then smiles at me, her eyes suddenly shining, too. 

Sometimes, you just know. You don’t know when it happened or how it happened. Somewhere in between that night at the gym or in the training room or my place or hers, somewhere between her hands and my heart and her eyes and mine, I’d realized that my forever has a laugh that feels like home and a smile that breaks my heart from the inside out. My forever loves the color purple and overly sweet coffee and her little brother and she loves me. My forever looks at me like I hung the moon and holds me like what we have is the most precious thing in the world. And maybe it is. Maybe she is.

And I’m glad it’s not anyone else. I’m glad it’s her.

Paige is my forever. 

“Forever sounds like a plan.”

[hsficrecommendation]

@hsficrecommendation 's Masterlist

Note: This is a post that holds links to all of the fic-rec masterlists/wrap ups I've posted of months mentioned below.

Now, this is how it works - I'm an avid fanfiction reader (and I'm sure that if you're here, then, you're one too) and I genuinely believe that it's one of the purest and best forms of media. Every single fic we read deserves ton of support, for which I've got another sideblog called (@ireblogwhatireadcauseduh ) where I reblog all the fics I read.

This one, though, is a blog I created to hopefully preserve some of the best fics, according to me, that I've read so far. Fics that just really affected me in a way that I simply fell in love.

Mentioned below, are links that will lead you to the best fics, (again, according to me) that I read in the namely month. If a month isn't mentioned, it just means that either I didn't really read anything because life gets in the way sometimes, or that I didn't find any fic very touching.

So, if you do decide to read any of the fics that I've recommended in the links below, please make sure to reblog the fics and to leave feedback on them for the writers because that's what keeps them going!!

Also, a very shameless self-promo -- I've got a writing account as well! (Although I'm pretty sure you found this one from there ghsfkhjl) It's named @0oolookitsme ! Feel free to take a stroll <3

Aaand that's all I had to say! I'll let you lose now, hope you enjoy your little walk through this blog, and come back again!

All the love <3

2022

February

March

April, May, June, July, August, September

2023

January, February, April

June

June, September, October

November, December

2024

January, February and March (should be here in the beginning of April!)

[opencommunion]

Palestinians from several of the displaced communities described the same pattern to +972: Israeli settlers arrive with their herds and prevent them from grazing on land where Palestinians have grazed for decades; then armed settlers would proceed to harass them day and night, even entering houses, without the army or police intervening. Everyone described the same, overwhelming feelings of fear and distress under the shadow of these settler invasions. “It’s like 1948,” said Mohammed Hussein, a resident of Ein Samia — invoking the year of the Nakba (“catastrophe”) and the expulsion of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians from their homeland during Israel’s establishment. According to the Palestinian residents, the situation grew worse following the establishment and growth of several grazing settler outposts in the area in recent years; settler violence and further expansion also noticeably escalated since the current Israeli government, led by extremist far-right parties, was sworn in last December. ... The Israeli authorities, along with the settlers, have played a central role in the displacement. For years, the occupation apparatus has banned the Palestinian communities from construction; demolished their homes; denied them connection to water and electricity; stopped them from paving roads; issued demolition orders for schools built with funds from the European Union; established and recognized Jewish settlements; and, of course, stood by during settler violence.  ... “We have always been under occupation, in a prison with checkpoints, but now we live in a prison van,” said Ali Abu al-Kabash, 60, sitting in a tent he had set up in an open area across the Allon Road. Abu al-Kabash, who is originally from a-Samu, near Hebron, moved to the Ramallah area in the 1980s, and to the area near Ras a-Tin in 1995. “Before the [last] election, the settlers would run away if there were a few of us [facing them]. Today, they attack because the government is with them. The police, the army, and the Shin Bet are all with them,” he added. “For 25 years we lived a normal life,” Abu al-Kabash continued. “In recent years, the settlers came and established two outposts [Micah’s Farm and Malachei HaShalom]. They blocked the road between us and Ein al-Rashash, and the one that goes down toward Fasayil. We would herd in the area, but they came to us in the name of the government and the Civil Administration and said that the land belongs to the settlers. They brought sheep to eat the food we grew for our sheep … They enter houses, sometimes with many soldiers, taking photos, even when there are girls, women, and old men present.” According to Abu al-Kabash, the violence increased after the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Fitr in May. “They park at the entrance of the homes. Some of them are under 12 years old, under the age of criminal responsibility. They go in, look in the refrigerator, or at our phones. What can we do? They want Area C for Israel, to take control of the land through the settlers, but without war. But where will we go? The occupation is everywhere.” Ras a-Tin, which neighbors al-Qabun, was subjected to similar harassment and severe violence by settlers. On the day its residents fled, in July 2022, Ahmad Kaabna, the mukhtar of Ras a-Tin — who died suddenly in early August at age 60 — told a group of activists: “The settlers frightened the women, the children — everyone. They came to the homes at night in groups of 10-15 people … the army with them. If you talk to them and say ‘get away, get out of here,’ they call the army or the police, who come and arrest the young [Palestinians].”