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#cleaning requires essential
durn3h · 4 months
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I've always wondered why so many governments keep investing tons of money into those stupid solar roadways projects when it makes 0 sense to anyone with a brain, but I just realized that it makes sense why this happens.
More and more funding is going into green energy and more and more people are wanting to see their government taking direct action to do something about green energy. There's money to be spent, but facilities require land that the government in most locations doesn't have, but they do have shittons of roads, so the most hassle free way of producing green electricity is to throw down solar panels in the one place they have complete control of the land, and then they get to claim that they are on the cutting edge of the science to appease their voters
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ms-demeanor · 2 months
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You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?
This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.
Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.
I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.
I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?
I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."
For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.
(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )
But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.
There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?
Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.
If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.
(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)
Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.
For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:
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That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)
Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.
Talk about this shit
Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.
Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."
Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.
Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.
Reduce friction for cleaning
Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:
Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.
Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)
Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).
This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:
Create Dump Zones
One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.
We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.
HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.
A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.
Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."
I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.
AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:
Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)
Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.
Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.
To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.
Landing Zones
Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.
To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.
I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.
Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.
Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.
Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).
People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.
If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.
It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.
It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?
IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?
anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.
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ash-says · 2 months
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Mini steps towards being independent:
I know. I know the frustration of not being in charge of your life. Especially when you are financially dependent and for some under 20s. Everyone treats you like a child but expects you to be an adult.
Then we have the group who go on insisting they are adults and capable of taking life decisions but for the love of God can't change their bedsheet responsibly.
Thus, I have come up with some mini tricks that will make you feel just a tiny bit independent:
Anytime anywhere list
1) Learn how to cook.
2) Take responsibility for household chores such as washing clothes, utensils,etc.
3) Do groceries shopping.
4) Keep track of the essentials required at home and make sure to stock them up.
5) Change the bedsheets weekly.
6) Clean your cupboards timely.
7) Plan a trip with your friends and take care of the execution part.
8) Decide what to make for lunch, dinner or breakfast and execute it solely (right from buying the food required to cooking it).
9) Check on your younger siblings studies. Take an update of their life or keep your room organized and clean.
10) Grow plants.
Planned execution list
Live alone. Try to get out of your parental home and start a new life in another city.
Get an internship/job.
Manage your finances on a budget and save money at the same time.
Take major life decisions such as your career field, whom to be friends with, etc solely on your own judgement.
Learn to navigate difficult social situations with ease.
Adopt a pet.
Develop your own ethical system.
Curate your discipline.
Identify your non-negotiable in different aspects of life.
Learn to speak up for yourself.
That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.
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zvaigzdelasas · 28 days
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Instead of burning fossil fuels to reach the temperatures needed to smelt steel and cook cement, scientists in Switzerland want to use heat from the sun. The proof-of-concept study uses synthetic quartz to trap solar energy at temperatures over 1,000°C (1,832°F), demonstrating the method’s potential role in providing clean energy for carbon-intensive industries. A paper on the research was published on May 15 in the journal Device.[...]
Glass, steel, cement, and ceramics are at the very heart of modern civilization, essential for building everything from car engines to skyscrapers. However, manufacturing these materials demands temperatures over 1,000°C and relies heavily on burning fossil fuels for heat. These industries account for about 25% of global energy consumption. Researchers have explored a clean-energy alternative using solar receivers, which concentrate and build heat with thousands of sun-tracking mirrors. However, this technology has difficulties transferring solar energy efficiently above 1,000°C.
To boost the efficiency of solar receivers, Casati turned to semitransparent materials such as quartz, which can trap sunlight—a phenomenon called the thermal-trap effect. The team crafted a thermal-trapping device by attaching a synthetic quartz rod to an opaque silicon disk as an energy absorber. When they exposed the device to an energy flux equivalent to the light coming from 136 suns, the absorber plate reached 1,050°C (1,922°F), whereas the other end of the quartz rod remained at 600°C (1,112°F).
“Previous research has only managed to demonstrate the thermal-trap effect up to 170°C (338°F),” says Casati. “Our research showed that solar thermal trapping works not just at low temperatures, but well above 1,000°C. This is crucial to show its potential for real-world industrial applications.”
Using a heat transfer model, the team also simulated the quartz’s thermal-trapping efficiency under different conditions. The model showed that thermal trapping achieves the target temperature at lower concentrations with the same performance, or at higher thermal efficiency for equal concentration. For example, a state-of-the-art (unshielded) receiver has an efficiency of 40% at 1,200°C, with a concentration of 500 suns. The receiver shielded with 300 mm of quartz achieves 70% efficiency at the same temperature and concentration. The unshielded receiver requires at least 1,000 suns of concentration for comparable performance.
17 May 24
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SoCal Gas spent millions on astroturf ops to fight climate rules
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Today (19 Aug), I'm appearing at the San Diego Union-Tribune Festival of Books. I'm on a 2:30PM panel called "Return From Retirement," followed by a signing:
https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/festivalofbooks
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It's a breathtaking fraud: SoCal Gas, the largest gas company in America, spent millions secretly paying people to oppose California environmental regulations, then illegally stuck its customers with the bill. We Californians were forced to pay to lobby against our own survival:
https://www.sacbee.com/news/politics-government/capitol-alert/article277266828.html
The criminal scheme is spelled out in eye-watering detail in a superb investigative report by Joe Rubin and Ari Plachta for the Sacramento Bee, which names the law firms and individual lawyers involved in the scam.
Here's the situation: SoCal Gas is California's private, regulated gas monopoly. They are allowed to lobby, but are legally required to charge their lobbying activities to their shareholders, and are prohibited from raising customer rates to pay for lobbying.
The company spent years secretly violating this rule, in the sleaziest way possible: working with corporate cartels like the California Restaurant Association and BizFed, the monopoly paid BigLaw white-shoe firms to procure people who posed as concerned citizens in order to oppose climate regulations that are essential to the state's very survival.
The bill topped $36 million – and it was illegally charged to its customers, the Californians whose immediate health and long-term survival these efforts opposed. SoCal Gas refuses to disclose the full extent of the spending, as do its lawyer-procurers, who cite legal confidentiality and a First Amendment right to secretly seek to influence policy in their refusal to disclose their profits from this illegal conduct.
The law firms involved are a who's-who of California's most prominent corporate fixers, including Reichman Jorgensen and Holland & Knight. The partners involved have a long rap sheet for anti-climate dirty tricking, most notably Jennifer Hernandez, notorious in climate justice history for an incident where activists claim she posed as one of them, infiltrating a campaign to force corporate despoilers to clean up their pollution in order to sabotage it, while secretly on a wealthy, prominent landowner's payroll.
Hernandez claims to care about the environment and says that her longstanding, corporate-funded, extensive campaigns and lawsuits against state environmental regulations are motivated by concern over their impact on working people. Her firm, Holland & Knight, denies serving SoCal Gas in opposing gas regulations, but it received $594k in ratepayer dollars, and submitted comments opposing the rules on its own behalf. Those comments were nearly identical to the comments submitted by SoCal Gas.
Hernandez also represents an obscure organization called The Two Hundred for Home Ownership in "a flurry of lawsuits" over California Air Resources Board rules on pollution, seeking to overturn the state's landmark climate change regulations.
Two Hundred for Home Ownership was founded by Robert Apodaca, who told the Bee that Hernandez's work for him is pro bono and not funded by SoCal Gas, but his entry into the fray occurred just as SoCalGas was founding an astroturf group called Californians for Fair and Balanced Energy (C4BES), which pretended to be an independent organization, disguising its relationship with SoCal Gas.
Apodaca is also founder of United Latinos Vote, an organization that had been largely dormant for seven years, not receiving any donations, until 2018, when the California Building Industry Association gave it $99k. The CBIA is a large-dollar recipient of donations from SoCal Gas, and its CEO insists that it was not acting on SoCal Gas's behalf when it made its unpredented donation to Apodaca.
The CBIA donation to United Latinos Vote was forerunner to a flood of corporate donations from the likes of Chevron, Marathon and Phillips 66. Shortly after receiving this cash, United Latinos Vote ran a full page ad in the LA Times, accusing the Sierra Club of pushing for anti-gas appliance rules that would harm working class Latino families.
This ad, in turn, featured prominently in advocacy by the SoCal Gas front group C4BES, funded with $29.1m in ratepayer money, which it then spent seeking to link clean appliance rules with anti-Latino racism. A quarter of California's carbon emissions come from home gas use.
SoCal Gas is regulated by the California Public Utility Commission (CPUC), which tolerated this mounting illegal conduct for many years, even as the company circulated internal memos as early as 2015 discussing its plans to oppose electrification in the state on the basis that it constituted "a significant risk to our business."
But last year, CPUC fined SoCal Gas $10m. Now, CPUC's Public Advocate office has filed a damning, extensive report on SoCal Gas's unlawful conduct, seeking $80m in rate cuts to compensate Californians for the funds misappropriated to protect the company's shareholder interests:
https://docs.cpuc.ca.gov/PublishedDocs/Efile/G000/M517/K407/517407314.PDF
Additionally, the Public Advocate is demanding $233m in fines for the company's refusal to allow investigators to audit its books and discover the full extent of the fraud.
SoCal Gas is the nation's largest utility, but (incredibly), it's not the dirtiest. That prize goes to Ohio's FirstEnergy, which handed $60m in ratepayer dollars to state politicians in illegal bribes in exchange for coal and nuclear subsidies and cancellation of state climate rules. That scandal led to GOP speaker of the Ohio House Larry Householder being sentenced to 20 years in prison:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ohio_nuclear_bribery_scandal
There is something extraordinarily sleazy about using ratepayers' own money to lobby against their interests. SoCal Gas and its Big Law enablers have funneled millions in Californian's money into campaigns to poison us and boil us alive, and they did it while using workers and racialized people as human shields.
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I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet to succeed the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:
http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/19/cooking-the-books-with-gas/#reichman-jorgensen
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Image: Maryland GovPics (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/mdgovpics/6635539089/
Jackie (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/79874304@N00/197532792
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
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rubashabansblog · 4 days
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🚨MY FAMILY URGENTLY NEEDS YOUR SUPPORT TO EVACUATED FROM THE GENOCIDE TO SAVE PLACE 🚨
Hello, my name is Ruba from Northern Gaza. I am writing to you today amidst harsh conditions that my family and I are enduring. We are in urgent need of your help. The war and the ongoing genocide put our lives in constant danger, and every passing minute could be our last.
We are living in a small tent that lacks the most basic necessities of life, such as clean water, electricity, and food. These essentials are currently unavailable to us, and we are in desperate need of them to survive.
My family and I are feeling extremely hopeless due to these tough circumstances. My parents are elderly and require medication and treatment, but there is no way to obtain them. We need your support to save our lives and protect my family from the death that is chasing us.
Please, help us as soon as possible. Your support will make a huge difference and save our lives.
Maybe 10$ save my life and make different 🍉‼️
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crustgremlin · 8 months
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How to start a pair of punk patch pants
(a potentially really shitty tutorial)
I've seen a couple videos on this but a lot of them seem to skip out on some really key information and tricks so I thought I'd just write a probably really long and really rambly post about it!!!
Step one: gathering supplies
In terms of supplies the main things you'll need are:
The pants
Approximately 4 rolls of dental floss (this can change depending on number of patches and your pant size)
A needle with a big enough eye to fit the floss through
Acrylic paints
Brushes
Scrap denim or other scraps of fabric for the patches
Pins
Some kind of marker or pencil that will work on the fabric you've chosen
I will be going into some detail below about why you need each of these items!!
The pants themselves
personally I prefer either using a pair of jeans I already own or thrifting a pair to be as sustainable as possible, however if you really need to go out and buy a new pair for whatever reason get a high quality pair, this will help in the long run with preventing them from falling apart as easily.
The second main point I want to make is that the pants should not be skinny jeans. This is because when you sew on patches it slightly cinches in the fabric, and with skinny jeans generally being stretchy, this is going to result in the thread of the patches stretching out and snapping. Your patches will all just start falling off and it'll ruin your hard work.
This is why I'd recommend using a pair of jeans or pants that are a bit looser of a fit, such as straight legged pants or a pair of pants a size up from your actual size if possible!
Dental floss
The reason it's generally suggested to use dental floss rather than actual thread is because dental floss tends to overall be a lot stronger than your average thread, as well as often being more easily accessible to buy.
Needle
This ones pretty self-explanatory, just make sure you get a needle with a long/wide enough eye (the hole the thread goes through) for your floss to be able to fit through without trouble.
Acrylic paints
You may be wondering why I'm suggesting acrylics over fabric paints and there are a few reasons!
The first is simply that they're both cheaper and far easier to purchase for the average person than fabric paints, and I want this tutorial to be as accessible as possible for as many people as possible.
The second reason is that fabric paints require a lot of fucking around with setting the paint, whereas acrylics can just be left to dry and be finished, and so long as your pants are hand washed, the paints won't come out (unless you layer it on super thick or are really rough when you clean them).
Brushes
Another pretty obvious one, these are needed so you can actually paint your patches!!!
Fabric/spare denim
You need fabric or scraps to be able to actually create patches for your pants, so this is essential.
Any kind of scrap fabric can do, a lot of fabric stores tend to have bins of scrap fabric that are either pre-priced or priced by weight and that can be a really good opportunity to acquire the fabric you need!
Another way (the method I tend to use) is thrifting a few pairs of jeans alongside the pair I want to patch and then ripping them up into patch-sized pieces!
Either way, I really advise against buying straight up new fabrics by the metre for this as it kinda goes against the entire idea of sustainability and reuse.
A really big tip I have for when you're cutting the fabric of your choice up for patches is to actually only cut a little slit, and then rip. This produces a really nice distressed edge and will help add some texture and more of a fucked up look to your pants a lot quicker than if you waited for the fabric to fray by itself!
Marker/pencil
This is literally just so you can draw your designs onto your patches! I've personally found that either a black or white (depending on how dark the fabric you're using is) pastel pencil is generally good enough to get the general gist of what you want down well enough for you to paint it on.
Pins
These are literally just to hold your patches in place and literally any kind from proper sewing pins to safety pins will work! (just don't forget they're in the jeans before you put them on I promise you it isn't fun to put on a pair of jeans full of pins).
Optional: a sketchbook
You may want a sketchbook or alternatively scraps of paper if you have any kind of original concept for a patch so you can draw it out a few times first to really nail it, and it's also helpful to have if you aren't as confident in your painting and drawing abilities!
Step two: patch making
I personally pre-rip/cut all of my patches before I paint anything on them generally speaking and then fit whatever design I want onto whatever piece I think it would fit on, however if you want to paint your patches and then rip/cut the design out that's also an option (and probably a much smarter one I'm just incredibly stubborn).
For punk pants you want a good mix of both punk bands, politics, and also maybe something a bit daft (I have the "he scream at he own ass" possum on the back pocket of a patched skirt for example). If you don't have bands and such, it kinda defeats the point of them being punk patched pants.
I personally generally pick a theme (eg. colourful patches, all black and white) when making anything patched because I think it makes everything look a bit more cohesive, but that is by no means a rule you actually have to follow I'm just autistic a fuck tbh.
Step three: the assembly
I personally put my main/bigger patches on first and put them on in a few different places until I get the placement I like, and then sew them on with the floss like this:
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The main thing you want to do to make sure your pants don't wind up looking a bit weird or bare is to fill in any gaps between your painted patches with small, blank patches. Like this:
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and that's pretty much it!!! I can't really explain via written text how to sew and how I personally tie off etc but if anyone would like a video tutorial lmk!!!
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csuitebitches · 9 months
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How to Wake Up Early
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I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.
Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.
I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.
Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.
That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.
Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.
So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.
I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.
1. Reset your space the night before
This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.
Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.
2. Early dinner
I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.
3. No devices before sleeping
I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.
4. Using Alarmy app
This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.
5. Keep your phone across the room
Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.
6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm
Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.
I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.
Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.
7. Turn a small light on
Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.
8. Be consistent, even on weekends
The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.
What do I do if I have a late night?
It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.
If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.
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punkshort · 6 months
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somewhere to run | 1. a fresh start
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: After you settle into your tiny, dingy apartment safely in the middle of nowhere, you go on the hunt for a job to help make ends meet. There, you meet someone who forces back memories you would rather forget.
Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, PTSD-type symptoms
WC: 6K
Series Masterlist
Anybody else who walked into the small, one bedroom apartment you were currently standing in would most likely be revolted. The kitchen faucet dripped incessantly, the toilet was stained, the carpet looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a decade, and the entire place smelled like garlic from the pizza place downstairs. But when you looked at it, you smiled. You could work with this. Rummaging around the dollar store bags you left on the kitchen counter, you pulled out all of the cleaning supplies you picked up and got to work.
The landlord - who also happened to be the owner of the pizza place - seemed surprised you wanted to rent it. He said the place had been vacant for close to a year, and considering the state, he knocked off quite a bit on the price. But you could see the potential beyond the grime, and you never shied away from a little hard work, so you jumped at the opportunity. It took you almost the whole day, but you managed to get the place smelling halfway decent. The bathroom and kitchen both looked sparkling new - well, relatively. The only thing you couldn't figure out was the faucet, but that concerned you the least since your landlord said that utilities were included.
Aside from the low rent, the next best thing about the place was it came partially furnished. It had a queen bed, a beat up sofa, and a rickety dining room table, but that was all you needed. At this point, you were just happy to not be staying in another dirty motel. You were ready to find a home, plant down some roots, and start fresh. And Fredericksburg, Texas was just as good a town as any.
You were surprised by how cute the town was when you first drove down Main Street. It was quiet and quaint, and very much had a small town atmosphere. When you were at the dollar store, you had overheard the cashier making conversation with every single customer as if she had known them all her life. By the time it was your turn to cash out, she examined you quizzically, most likely trying to place you, but fortunately she let it go and didn't pry. You weren't in the mood to make up more lies. You were exhausted from being on the road so much the past few weeks, and you just wanted to collapse into bed in a somewhat clean room.
And that is exactly what you did, after you stocked the small fridge with some essentials from the grocery store at the corner of the street so you would at least have coffee and something to eat in the morning.
As you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan swirling above, you silently thanked your grandmother all those years ago who told you since you were old enough to understand when you meet a man, keep your own bank account. At the time, you laughed, wondering why on earth anyone would purposely keep secrets from their partner. That it seemed like such a betrayal to even suggest it. But luckily for you, when you met Patrick, you already had your own bank account. You let it lie dormant for a while, almost forgetting you had it. Eventually, you told yourself you should close the account. But that required going down to the branch in person, and you never seemed to find the time to do it. Or maybe some part of you always knew there was something ugly about him, and maybe your grandmother's words had more of an effect on you than you realized.
Whatever it was, it's the reason you were able to find a shitty little apartment in the middle of nowhere without anybody being able to track you down. And for the first time in a long time, you closed your eyes and felt safe.
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The next morning, after you drank your surprisingly palatable off brand coffee and ate a borderline stale blueberry muffin, you headed down the steps of your apartment to the sidewalk lining Main Street. You took a deep breath and looked around, a small smile playing on your lips. The town was just waking up, businesses just opening their doors, cars rolling lazily down the street. You had your own car - it was an old Honda Civic that you weren't entirely sure had many years left - but you wouldn't need it today. Picking an apartment on the main drag in town afforded you the option to walk almost anywhere. So you chose a direction and started walking, glancing in the windows of the shops, looking for any help wanted signs.
You tried a small clothing boutique and a coffee shop before entering the pharmacy. There wasn't a help wanted sign out front, but you needed to pick up a few things, anyway. Things the dollar store didn't have, or things you didn't exactly trust to buy there.
You grabbed a basket by the door and smiled at the teenager behind the counter who greeted you before heading down the first aisle. You snagged some generic pain reliever and a box of tampons before you made your way to the hair products. Flipping open the caps, you took a hesitant sniff and put them back before deciding on a cheaper bottle that smelled like strawberries and didn't make you gag. Dropping the bottles in your basket, you wandered past the makeup, looking at it longingly but knowing you wouldn't waste the money on it. Instead, you stopped in front of an end-cap where a display of chapstick caught your eye.
"Sarah?" you heard a deep voice call from behind. You ignored it and kept looking at the display, landing on a vanilla scent as the man walked past. You didn't see his face, but you smelled his cologne, and you instantly recoiled. Your heart began to slam in your chest and your throat felt tight. You squeezed your eyes shut as you focused on taking deep breaths. It's not him, it's not him, it's not him.
"Excuse me, can I grab one of those?" a girl's voice said softly behind you. Taking a shaky step back, you nodded and forced a weak smile.
"Sorry, of course," you told her. She had beautiful, dark brown eyes and thick hair with tight curls framing her face. She looked like she was in her early teens, and based on the backpack over her shoulders, you were probably right.
"Sarah?" you heard the voice call again, and you saw her eyes flick up. You realized the man with the cologne was probably related to her, and you weren't sure you would be able to handle smelling it again, so you quickly took off down the next aisle to hide, waiting until their voices carried them to the cash registers and out the front door before taking a few steadying breaths and forcing yourself to move.
Minor setback aside, you had a pretty good morning. You found you had some luck at the diner a few blocks over. The owner took a liking to you right away and interviewed you on the spot.
"You came at the perfect time, darlin'," he said, taking a seat across from you. "Just missed the breakfast rush, so I got the time to talk right now. Name's Tommy," he said, extending his hand. You smiled and shook it, introducing yourself, then quickly brought your hand back to your lap to nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt.
"You ever work in a restaurant before?"
"Uh, yeah, it's been a few years. But I think it's like riding a bike. I have really good time management skills, I have experience handling cash, I'm friendly, I'm great at anticipating customer's needs-"
Tommy laughed and patted his hand on the table.
"Sounds like you got more skills than half the waitstaff I already got. Some of the older ladies ain't exactly friendly, but they've been here so long, no one seems to mind," he explained quietly with a wink. You chuckled and glanced down at your hands.
"You from around here? I don't think I recognize you," he asked, his eyebrows pinching together. You shook your head.
"Nope, just moved here." You briefly wondered if you should lie - you were so used to lying at this point, it came as second nature - but you couldn't see what it would hurt to tell him the truth. "I'm from Pennsylvania. Just got in last night, actually."
"Long way from home, what brought you here?" he asked, leaning back to study you. You just shrugged.
"Looking for a fresh start," you said honestly. If you were really looking to start over, the lying needed to stop, too.
Tommy nodded and glanced behind you before meeting your gaze again.
"Well, you're hired. If you want the job, that is," he said. You grinned, not expecting that.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. When can you start?"
"Uh, tomorrow?" you offered, your mind racing. You weren't sure if you would need new clothes so you wanted to give yourself the rest of the day, at least, to prepare.
"Works for me. Maria," Tommy called over your shoulder. You turned around and saw a beautiful woman with long, dark braids walking over. He introduced her as his wife, who also happened to be the hostess. You stood to shake her hand, exchanging warm smiles as Tommy told her your name.
"Why don't you come by tomorrow 'round 9 and Maria can show you the ropes? I work the kitchen, she's got the floor," he explained, and you nodded along excitedly.
"I'll be here," you confirmed, the grin still plastered on your face. Tommy left to head back to the kitchen as Maria told you what you needed to bring the next day. You took out your new phone and began jotting down everything she mentioned.
On the way back home, you stopped to pick up a pair of nonslip sneakers from a shoe store. Maria had given you a couple plain black skirts and black t-shirts with the diner's logo that all of the waitresses wore as their uniform before you left. To celebrate, you got a pizza from the pizza place below your apartment and watched old reruns on the ancient TV in your living room.
Things were finally starting to come together.
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"Refills are free. Cream and sugar is down here, along with any extra condiments. Coffee should be made every hour but you'll go through the pot long before that," Maria said to you, pointing as she walked behind the counter. "Here's some extra notepads and pens. The computer system is kind of old but pretty easy to use. Tommy'll ring the bell when food is up, we try to move it as quick as possible before it gets cold, even if it's not your table," she said, turning around to face you. "It might take some time to learn the table numbers but we have a little cheat sheet next to all the registers. And if you're ever not sure, don't hesitate to ask."
"I think I got it," you said confidently, tapping your pen against your notepad.
"You can shadow with Betty today, she's been here for decades, long before Tommy and me ever bought the place. She knows her shit forwards and backwards," Maria said, leading you back to the kitchen where you saw an older, round woman struggling with a cardboard box.
"Here, let me help," you told her, rushing over to take the box from her.
"Thanks, sweetie," she said with a smile. "Can you take it up front for me?"
"Of course," you said, following her through the kitchen.
Maria introduced you to Betty as you helped her stock the ketchup bottles underneath the front counter. You heard Tommy's voice call for Maria through the kitchen window and she excused herself, leaving the two of you to tend to the only two customers in the place.
The morning went by quickly. Betty was nicer than you expected. In your experience, when a newcomer joins a seasoned team, it sometimes takes time for the veterans to warm up, but she seemed very eager to show you the ropes, and she had the patience of a saint. All of the customers seemed to know her name and history, some occasionally asking about her husband or her children. As it inched closer to noon, the diner started getting busier again, so you began to branch out a bit on your own, taking a few simple orders and delivering food or refills whenever you could. Betty was deep in conversation with a regular when she waved you over.
"D'you mind takin' care of him?" she asked, nodding over to the man who just sat down. "That's Joel, Tommy's brother. Don't charge him for nothin', he comes in all the time."
You nodded and pulled your pen and notepad out of your apron as you headed over to greet him. When you finally lifted your gaze, you noticed he was wearing a worn, brown suit with a striped tie and as you got closer, you saw the little gold star pinned to his belt and the bulge of a handgun under his blazer.
Your breath got caught in your throat when you made the realization he's a cop.
It's fine, it's fine, it's fine you kept repeating to yourself, forcing your feet to move. You thought you were okay by the time you stood in front of him, but then his cologne invaded your senses, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck.
Fortunately, his head was bent down looking at the menu and didn't see your reaction, which afforded you a few precious seconds to collect yourself. It's not him.
"Hey Betty, I'll have-" he glanced up and realized you were not, in fact, Betty. His warm brown eyes trailed over your face for a moment too long, making you shift your weight nervously.
"Sorry, didn't uh - have we met?" he asked, his eyes unblinking as he continued to stare, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. It's fine, you're fine.
"No," you finally managed to squeak out, shaking your head and introducing yourself right as his eyes drifted to your name tag. "What can I get for you?"
You needed to walk away. You weren't sure how much longer you could stand there smelling that fucking cologne and staring at that badge. But for some reason, he didn't answer you. Maybe if you weren't so wrapped up in your own issues, you would have recognized the look in his eye. The look that clearly expressed interest beyond you taking his food order. And maybe, if you weren't so messed up, you would have realized he was insanely handsome. Maybe, if you could have seen past the cologne and the gold star on his waist, you would have noticed how plush his lips looked, or how big and strong his hands were. You had no idea how you could possibly miss how broad his shoulders were or how thick and soft the messy, dark curls were on top of his head.
But you did miss all of those things the first time you saw him, because he just kept staring and the scent was making your stomach turn and the fluorescent light was shining too brightly off that damn star, so you repeated yourself with a little more edge to your voice than you usually had.
He finally snapped out of it and glanced down at the menu, quickly telling you his order. You wrote it down and held your breath, only letting it go once you were around the corner and far enough away. He comes in all the time, Betty's words replayed in your mind. You were either going to need to find a way to deal with your issues, or find a new job.
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"Hiya, Joel. New girl take care of you?" Betty asked as she ambled over to refill his coffee. His eyes flicked around the diner, following your form as you smiled and chatted warmly with other customers.
"Yeah, when did she start?" he asked, trying to sound noncommittal, but Betty saw right through it.
"Today," she told him with a smirk. "Real smart. Pretty, too, don'tcha think?"
"Uh," Joel stammered before clearing his throat. "Yeah, suppose so."
"I think she's single," Betty told him, leaning up against the counter.
"When are you gonna quit tryin' to set me up with every woman in this town?" Joel asked her with a grin.
"Whenever you decide to finally settle down," she shot right back. "You need a woman in your life, Joel."
"Do you do this to all your customers, Betty? Grill 'em 'bout their love lives and tell 'em what they need, like you know best?"
"I do know best, Joel," she said with a wink. "And you know it."
"Yeah, well. I got my hands full with Sarah and work down at the station. Don't got time for all that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee.
"Sarah's 'bout to be goin' off to college before you know it, and there ain't nearly enough crime in this town to keep you that busy," she said with a shake of her head.
Joel mumbled something under his breath before taking another sip of coffee and glancing around the dining room.
"What was that?" Betty asked, leaning in and cupping her ear. Joel sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Don't think she likes me much, anyway," he said, clearer now.
"Oh, well I can find out for you, sugar. All you gotta do is ask." Betty gave Joel the biggest shit eating grin she could muster. He took a deep breath before asking what he knew would be a huge mistake, but he suddenly needed to know the answer.
"Can you..." he trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek and staring down at the closed menu.
"Can I what?"
Joel groaned and dragged his eyes back up to Betty.
"Can you find out if she'd be interested?" he finally spit out, and Betty clapped her hands.
"Of course I will, Joel! I would absolutely love to," she gushed, and he rolled his eyes again. Just then, he saw you come around the corner and go behind the counter, completely ignoring the two of you before reaching up to the kitchen window and grabbing his lunch. You turned around and gave him what looked to be a forced smile and carefully set the plate down in front of him with a bottle of ketchup. Betty took a step back and watched with a glimmer in her eye as Joel's neck began to flush.
"Can I get you anything else?" you asked. Your voice sounded sweet and you were smiling, but your smile didn't reach your eyes. Maybe he was reading too much into it.
"Nope, all set, thank you," he said, giving you a warm smile in return, but before he even had a chance to say anything else, to try to make a connection and learn more about you, you scurried away. He glanced over at Betty and raised his eyebrows.
"See?"
She waved him off and picked up a rag to wipe down the counter.
"She's just nervous, is all."
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The embarrassment still sat with you by the time you arrived back to your apartment that evening. When Betty caught you off guard and asked what you thought of Joel, you couldn't turn down the idea fast enough. You must have looked and sounded crazy based on her reaction. Your only saving grace was Joel had already left the diner and didn't hear you vehemently tell her you wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't his fault, you weren't interested in hurting his feelings, but you were far too vulnerable still. The wounds were too fresh and the memories were too strong.
Besides, even if you weren't in the unfortunate position you were in, you wouldn't feel right dragging even more people down with you. You dug this grave, so you had to dig yourself out. And you were on the right track, too. As far as you knew, nobody knew where you were. You were incredibly careful, you kept a low profile, and you didn't contact a single person back home. You had no idea who you could even trust anymore, so the safest bet was to just cut all ties and start over.
You weren't going to risk everything by getting involved with some guy. Okay, he was more like a man. But still. Your situation was far too complicated to get involved with anybody. Technically, you shouldn't get involved with anybody.
No, it was a very bad idea.
So why couldn't you stop thinking about him?
"Stop it," you muttered out loud to yourself as you paced around your little apartment. With a huff, you picked up the small potted plant you bought on clearance and gave it a little bit of water from the dripping kitchen sink before putting it back on the windowsill.
Remember what he smelled like? Remember he's a cop?
That did the trick. Those two simple reminders erased all prior thoughts about the handsome sheriff who visited the diner earlier that day.
And as you tucked yourself into bed that night, you convinced yourself the only reason who were momentarily intrigued by the man's interest was flattery. You were simply flattered someone looked at you in that way. It's been a long time since anybody had, and it just made you feel good.
Yep, that's all it was.
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When Joel sat down at the counter the next day and was greeted by Betty instead of you, he was surprised to find he was disappointed. He had just met you, he knew nothing about you, he barely even spoke to you. Why should he care if you were waiting on him today or not?
"She ain't here," Betty said when she caught Joel glancing around the dining room. He tried not to look deflated.
"Who?"
Betty laughed heartily at that and had to pause to catch her breath so she wouldn't spill his coffee.
"Listen, Joel," she said, setting the coffee pot down and leaning on the counter. "Remember what I said yesterday? 'Bout how I always know what's best?"
"Yeah," he said slowly, eyeing her up and bracing for what was coming next.
"Well, turns out I might have been wrong. There's a first time for everythin', right?" she said, forcing a laugh that he didn't reciprocate.
"What'dya mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I don't think she's interested in datin' anyone right now," was all she said, and he felt the disappointment instantly flood his veins. He didn't even realize how much he had been hoping his instinct was wrong, that maybe he misread you, but of course he was right. He was a cop, after all. He was good at reading people, it's what he was trained to do.
"That's it?"
"I don't know, Joel. Maybe she's not into men, I didn't ask any more questions," she said. "Besides, I was thinkin'. Margaret's daughter is back in town. You remember Nikki?"
Joel shrugged and turned back to his coffee. He remembered Nikki. He wasn't interested in Nikki. She was a nice girl, but he didn't feel anything when he looked at her. Not like the way he felt when he looked at you.
"Now I know for a fact that Nikki's had a crush on you since you were in high school. I could talk to Margaret at church this weekend..."
"No thanks," Joel said immediately, then glanced at his watch before standing up and tossing a tip down on the table. "Gotta get back to work, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
He turned on his heel and left before Betty had a chance to reply.
What a stupid idea. What did he expect would actually happen? That you would fall in love with him after he spoke barely three sentences to you? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Hey, Joel," he heard the owner of the hardware shop call out to him in greeting as he walked by.
"Hey, Lee. How's it goin'?" Joel stopped outside the open door to the shop, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Lee sweep the floor.
"Can't complain. 'Cept, you get any leads on those vandals? Someone's been drawin' obscene things on the street signs over on Willow." Lee lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder before adding "someone even drew a phallic image on a deer crossin' sign."
Joel had to stifle a chuckle because he knew the old man was completely serious.
"I'm on it, Lee. Promise, I'll get to the bottom of it," he said with a nod.
A clatter deep within the store pulled both of their attention toward the noise.
"You alright back there, miss?" Lee called, peering down the aisle. Joel's breath caught in his throat when he heard your voice.
"Yeah, sorry! Just dropped something," you replied, emerging from the aisle looking a little flustered and holding an array of tools in your hands. You stiffened before you even laid eyes on him, like you could sense him before even seeing he was there. Joel couldn't help but take it a little personally. Why were you so sweet and friendly to Lee and other customers at the diner, but so cold to him?
You glanced his way nervously and he tried to give you a reassuring smile, maybe even a quick hello, but you immediately turned to address Lee, asking him questions on how to fix a kitchen faucet. Joel watched as Lee picked out the right tool for you and explained how to fix it, but it was clear as day you were having a hard time following. Lee must have noticed as well.
"You ever fix anythin' 'round a house, sweetheart?" Lee asked, and a little pink dusted your cheeks, making Joel's heart flutter in his chest.
"Is it that obvious?" you asked him with a sweet smile. Why wouldn't you look at him like that?
Lee laughed good-naturedly before turning to Joel.
"Joel, would you mind helpin' her out? Her place's on the way back to the station."
Your smile fell and you instantly shook your head, eyes widening as you clutched the tool in your hand.
"N-no, that's okay, I can manage," you said, first to Lee, then braved a glance in his direction before dropping your eyes to the floor.
A big part of Joel told himself to just give up, just let you be and ignore whatever it was that made you dislike him so much. But he just couldn't do it.
"Not a problem, it should just take a second," Joel finally said, tilting his head to look at you. "Where d'you live?"
He could tell you were incredibly uncomfortable now, and he wondered if he should stop pushing it. It looked like you could hardly breathe as you stared at the floor and considered your options.
"Just a few blocks that way," you said meekly, pointing north up Main Street. Joel pushed himself off the doorframe and stood aside so you could squeeze through without getting too close to him, and for that you seemed grateful. He nodded to Lee before following you down the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he tried to think of something to say.
"You likin' it here so far?"
"Uh huh," you replied, your gaze trained straight ahead. The pair of you walked in an awkward silence for another minute before he tried again.
"You got a place right on Main?"
"Above the pizza parlor," you said, and before he could follow up with another question, you suddenly stopped walking. He turned around when he realized and gave you a confused look.
"I really appreciate the offer, but I think I can figure out the sink for myself," you told him, forcing yourself to look into his eyes this time when you spoke.
"It's no trouble. It's what we all do 'round here, we help each other out," he replied. You fidgeted with the strap of your purse and averted your gaze. He waited for you to weigh your options, not wanting to pressure you but also not ready to give up, either. Finally, you spoke.
"You said it'll be quick?"
He grinned and nodded.
"Less than ten minutes."
You sighed and forced yourself to continue walking.
"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind..."
"I'm sure."
You walked in silence the rest of the way to your apartment. Joel seemed nice enough, and you could probably even get over the fact he was a cop, but you just couldn't get past the fucking cologne. It permeated every molecule of air whenever he was near, and you couldn't stop the horrible memories that came flooding back. You knew you would end up regretting allowing him into your apartment because you would end up spending the rest of the day trying to rid your little sanctuary of that scent. But you were weak. You never were very good at saying no. And this time was no exception.
You unlocked the front door and Joel held it open while you led him up the creaky stairs, then unlocked the second door at the top that led directly into your small apartment. He closed the door behind him and glanced around, taking in your space for the first time.
"Cozy," he finally said, and you let out a soft chuckle.
"You could say that," you replied. The room wasn't very big, but he noticed the moment you both entered, you put as much space between the two of you as you could. Your eyes were flicking around the room anxiously, your back against the only window and your fingers clutching the tool to your chest, toying with it nervously. He took a couple steps towards you and your fidgeting stopped. You dragged your gaze up to his as he studied your curious behavior. If it wasn't obvious before, it was crystal clear now: he made you incredibly uncomfortable.
Rather than make things worse, he stopped halfway across the room and just held out his hand. You stared at it, unmoving and barely breathing before he cleared his throat.
"Wrench?"
"Oh," you said softly, letting out a shaky breath before taking a step forward and handing him the tool you had just bought. He took it and gave you one more look before turning back towards the small kitchen. He shrugged off his blazer and draped it over the back of a chair, and your throat went dry when you clocked the gun on his waist.
You watched him warily as he flicked on the overhead light and fiddled with the lever of the sink before opening the cabinets underneath and peering inside at the plumbing. You hardly moved a muscle as you watched him. You wished you could light the scented candle on your table to help minimize the cologne, but you were too nervous he would find that suggestive. The silence became deafening as he worked, and you felt compelled to say something.
"Can I get you some water?"
He stopped what he was doing and gave you a small smirk.
"As long as it ain't from the tap," he said, tilting his head towards the faucet he currently had taken apart. You smiled and walked quickly over to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water. He noticed your fingers shaking slightly when you handed him the water, and he frowned.
"You alright?"
"Me?" you squeaked, as if there were anyone else in the room he could be addressing. He nodded slowly and unscrewed the cap, still staring at you.
"I'm fine," you assured him, but still took a few paces back to stand next to your window again. Far away from him. He looked you up and down as he took a sip of his water before setting the bottle down on the counter.
"I can tell you got some issue with me," he began, and you stilled, watching him carefully from across the room, clutching the water bottle tightly against your chest. You shook your head quickly, but he held out a hand to stop you.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable at the diner," he said.
"W-what do you mean?" you stammered.
"Betty," he added, raising his eyebrows. "She's got a tendency to stick her nose where it don't belong, and I know she said somethin' to you 'bout me. I just wanted to apologize if that put you in tough spot."
"Oh, that's alright," you told him, quickly waving him off. He chewed the corner of his mouth as he studied your surprisingly relaxed response. So Betty's prying wasn't the problem.
"You gotta give me somethin' here," he said after a moment, and you dropped your gaze to your feet. "What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything," you said softly, your eyes still pinned to the floor.
"Then why can't you stand lookin' at me for more than five seconds?" he asked, desperate now to know the answer.
"Does it matter?" you whispered.
"I wish it didn't," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. You finally looked up at him now, taking in his hurt expression, and you felt your resolve crumbling. What happened to you wasn't this man's fault.
"What does that mean?" you asked him, and it was his turn to look away.
"Nothin'," he finally mumbled, his heart slamming against his chest.
"It's your cologne," you blurted out, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn't expecting that.
"My... cologne?"
"It's nothing personal, I'm just sensitive to smells." He knew you were lying. Your entire apartment smelled like garlic and marinara sauce from the pizza place downstairs. But he decided not to push it.
"My daughter - Sarah - she got it for me for Father's Day. Truth be told, I don't like it much, either," he told you, and much to his relief, he saw the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile.
"I'm sorry," you said quietly. He just shrugged and turned back to the sink.
"Nothin' for you to be sorry 'bout. Thought I offended you or somethin', is all," he told you as he worked on putting the faucet back together.
You took a few tentative steps closer to peer over his shoulder.
"Can you show me what you did to fix it?" you asked. He straightened up to look at you and twirled the wrench in his hand, deciding to be bold.
"If I do that, then I won't have an excuse to come see you when it breaks again."
You bit your lip to hide your smile as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He grinned and turned back to the sink. Maybe he still had a chance. He was nearly finished, but he showed mercy on you and explained what he did, anyway.
Once he was done, you walked him down to the first floor, thanking him profusely along the way.
"Don't mention it," he said, shoving his arms through his blazer as he walked, but turned back before you closed the door.
"Will I see you tomorrow?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gazed up at him. Now that you were back outside and the scent wasn't so strong, you allowed yourself to acknowledge that Joel was a good looking man. A really good looking man. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you cursed Patrick for ruining so many things for you, but you were afraid the worst thing he might have actually ruined for you was Joel.
You slowly nodded, then he grinned and tilted his head to the side.
"You have yourself a good rest of the day, sweetheart."
You felt yourself blush at the term of endearment, but luckily he had already turned away.
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Taglist: @harriedandharassed @merz-8 @sarap-77
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ham1lton · 2 months
Text
TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT — GQ.
— part of my maneater series ꕤ
Y/N (throwing her hat in the air with one hand and catching it in the other without looking): see? told you i could do it! not my only party trick.
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Y/N: hi gq! i’m y/n l/n, formula one driver and i’m here to show you my ten essentials.
NUMBER ONE: IPAD
Y/N: first, has to be my ipad. this was my first big purchase and seeing my bank account being drained of that money almost caused a heart attack. but this bad boy helps me to organise my life, stops me from being bored on flights, keeps me in contact with my family and lets me write my notes. so yeah, thanks apple. also you guys should sponsor me.
NUMBER TWO: NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES
Y/N: i never used to travel a lot. when i was younger, my family couldn’t afford it so flying around a lot was a big shock to my system. obviously as in f1, drivers are required to fly to different races and it means i had to get over my fear of flying. these help a lot with that. these plus a spotify playlist made by my angsty teenage self will make me forget about the fact i���m flying. these are my favourite ones, i have multiple pairs just in case.
NUMBER TWO AND A HALF: MUSIC.
Y/N: i guess this sort of goes off the second one? but music. i keep trying to bribe the engineers to build a blue tooth radio in the car but to no avail. spotify has been my biggest supporter all of these years. i know i’m sponsored by them now but i have been using my account for almost seven years now? so my algorithm is perfection. it truly has helped me so much. i listen to music on the way to races, on the way back from races, in my house, outside my house, cleaning, cooking and even when i’m in the shower. yes, i’m a shower singer. once i get in there, i’m beyoncé!
OFF SCREEN VOICE: what was the last song you listened to?
Y/N: one second, let me see. it was the twilight soundtrack in particular decode by paramore. told you i was an angsty teen!
NUMBER THREE: EMERGENCY BAG
Y/N: okay this sounds bad, it’s not as much an emergency bag as in like medical supplies but more so like extra toothbrush, toothpaste, menstrual products, lotion and other stuff like that. i always carry this with me anywhere in case my suitcase goes missing. it has helped me and my friends out so many times so it’s definitely an essential for me.
NUMBER FOUR: HER CAMERAS.
Y/N: i picked up photography relatively recently and this was the starter camera that the guy in the shop recommended. so this is that camera. for this one, i vlog, which you guys might have seen and this is the camera i use for those videos. i actually don’t record my videos, one of my friends or family or colleagues or whoever will film and i will be in front of the camera. it’s my favourite part when i ask the camera person to reveal themselves and they do their own little introduction. i obviously provide the camera for it. which is this beauty right here.
OFF SCREEN VOICE: who has been your favourite person to film you?
Y/N: i have had a lot of people film me. my most recent being rihanna for my recent holiday vlog! so many people to the point that i genuinely don’t think i could choose a favourite. i mean, i’ve had my sister do it a lot so i guess i can choose her. she knows my angles best!
NUMBER FIVE: LIPGLOSS
Y/N: when i won my first championship and i kissed the camera, the amount of calls from makeup companies my manager received was actually obscene. i think i got so many comments on social media asking what makeup i use and how it stays on throughout the race! to be honest, i don’t always wear makeup but in the original video, i was wearing this fenty gloss. it’s in the shade fu$$y. so, yeah, at least no one can call me a gatekeeper! i always keep it on me. i feel a little more ready to face the world with lipgloss. now, i have my own fenty collection! so check that out.
NUMBER SIX: HER LUCKY SHOES.
Y/N: okay i know i say i’m not necessarily a superstitious person but these shoes have been with me from f3 until now. every race i’ve worn these, i’ve won. so i like having them around. i think they bring luck. i can’t wear them any longer as they’ve worn through the soles now. really annoying but we power through.
NUMBER SEVEN: WINGSTOP BLACK CARD
Y/N: i was really craving wingstop one night. so me and my sister were in london? i think and i vlogged our hunt for wingstop and they reached out to me to give me a black card. i know, isn’t it gorgeous? i was so happy. too bad i have to cut down on what i eat thanks to my nutritionist, but my siblings and friends love this thing.
NUMBER EIGHT: SKINCARE ROUTINE
Y/N: okay, so i’m trying to get more consistent with my skincare but it’s not necessarily working the way i want it to. however, i still stick to the basics. sunscreen, cleanser and moisturiser. i really like keeping my skincare on check as there is this unsaid rule that women have to wear makeup in their jobs and if i keep my skin looking good then i can skirt that rule. i love this cream in particular, it’s moisturising but very light on the skin. best of both worlds.
NUMBER NINE: NECKLACE
Y/N: this was given to me as a gift from my family when i turned eighteen. it was a necklace that i’d had my eye on for a very, very long time. they saved up for so long to buy it for me and it’s become my signature piece. i wear it around my neck constantly. it’s weird having it off my neck to show you.
(she fastens it around her neck quickly)
Y/N: now i feel normal again.
NUMBER TEN: MY PADDOCK PASS
Y/N: i am so bad with keeping my paddock pass on me. for people who don’t know what this is, this allows me access to the garage and things like that. i usually keep it around my neck because if its in my pocket or my bag i’ll forget. my assistant sometimes carries mine. i’m not going to show you my picture because it’s awful. i had woke up really early after no sleep and one of the staff had made me take the picture. now i am forced to wear this monstrosity at work. i keep it hidden as much as i can. last time, lando saw it and laughed so hard he cried so yeah.
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author’s note: this was hard as i wanted to keep it as vague as possible so that you can relate it to your own maneater! i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in!
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reasonsforhope · 8 months
Text
We’ve just taken a major step toward cleaning up space junk.
On Monday, October 2, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) in the US issued its first fine for space debris, ordering the US TV provider Dish to pay $150,000 for failing to move one of its satellites into a safe orbit. 
“It is definitely a very big symbolic moment for debris mitigation,” says Michelle Hanlon, a space lawyer at the University of Mississippi. “It’s a great step in the right direction.”
But it might be more than just a symbolic gesture by the FCC. Not only does it set a precedent for tackling bad actors who leave dangerous junk orbiting Earth, but it could send shock waves through the industry as other satellite operators become wary of having their reputation tarnished. While the $150,000 FCC fine was modest, Dish’s share price fell by nearly 4% immediately following its announcement, pushing the company’s $3 billion valuation down about $100 million.
The FCC’s action could also help breathe new life into the still-small market for commercial removal of space debris, essentially setting a price—$150,000—for companies such as Astroscale in Japan and ClearSpace in Switzerland to aim for in providing services that use smaller spacecraft to sidle up to dead satellites or rockets and pull them back into the atmosphere...
Another hope is that the FCC’s fine will encourage other countries to follow suit with their own enforcement actions on space junk. “It sends a message out of America taking leadership in this area,” says Newman. “This is starting the ball rolling.”
Today there are more than 8,000 active satellites, nearly 2,000 dead satellites, and hundreds of empty rockets orbiting Earth. Managing these objects and preventing collisions is a huge task, and one that is becoming increasingly difficult as the number of satellites grows rapidly. The worsening situation is largely due to mega-constellations of hundreds or thousands of satellites from companies like SpaceX and Amazon, designed to beam the internet to any corner of the globe...
Hanlon says there are further measures that could be taken to discourage companies from failing to dispose of satellites properly. “Honestly, I would love to see that if you don’t meet your license requirements, you’re banned from launching for a number of years,” she says. “If you’re driving under the influence you can have your license revoked. These are the kinds of measures we need to see.”
Chris Johnson, a space law advisor at the Secure World Foundation in the US, says the loss of reputation for Dish about the satellite situation might be worse than any fine it could have received. “They promised to remove it and they didn’t,” he says. “It’s like the first operator of a car to get a speeding ticket.”
The fall in the company’s share price appears to be indicative of that reputational damage. The fine may not have been as severe as it could have been, but the FCC’s actions can be seen as a warning to other companies to tackle space junk. “This is going to be on their record and their reputation,” says Johnson. “It’s not trivial.”
-via MIT Technology Review, October 5, 2023
Always nice to see steps taken to tackle a problem BEFORE it causes incredibly massive issues
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royaltozaki · 7 days
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I know this request is soo Y/n-ish but if ever you can read this, please make a fic including Momo and Sana where they are fighting over y/n which is me but I prefer Momo more huehuehueheu thank yah love lotss!!
if i die young
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synopsis: you're saved by someone at work that you haven't met before and you quickly become close. your roommate isn't too fond of this though.
warnings: mostly fluff but gets vvv angsty towards the end, mentions of death, implied sex, cursing, cheating but not really if you think about it, heavy grief themes, trying so hard to not giveaway the story in the warnings
w/c: 8.4k
a/n: GIGGLE im pretty sure this is not what anon had in mind but i struggled soooo much w this prompt bcs I CANT DO THAT TO MY BABY SANA but i got this wonderful idea while in the shower to punish anon for sending me this prompt that i agonised over for a literal month that does technically fulfil the requirements 😋 enjoy the read mwahaha (and sorry for any plot holes that may come up- come yell at me in asks i have sm love for this fic and id love to yap abt it if anyone notices anything silly)
♰˚☽˚。⋆
"y/n right?"
you look up, smiling at the woman who's hovering over your desk at work, nodding in acknowledgement.
"i think the boss was asking for you."
you widen your eyes in embarrassment, scrambling up and grabbing the relevant files, "oh shit i'm so sorry i totally forgot! i'll be there in just a second!"
the woman giggles, "it's okay. i told her my dogs ate all of your work."
you pause, looking at her in horror, "i-i- you what?"
"trust me. she's met my dogs. she'll believe it. your meeting with her has been postponed to next week. i'm momo by the way." she smiles, holding out a hand expectantly.
you're still a little in shock, but you take it, noting the way her hands are soft against yours, she must moisturise. "o-oh. t-thanks i guess..."
momo grins, "see you around y/n."
and then she's off, aloof to her surroundings, you think it's kind of adorable.
you sit back at your desk, still a little flabbergasted at your interaction with the strange girl from work.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
"sana! i'm home!" you kick off your shoes, placing them in their allocated slot on your shoe rack.
"kitchen!"
you frown, immediately worried when you hear that word. sana's notorious for her clumsy nature. when you first moved in together, it was essentially an unspoken rule that she was not allowed in the kitchen without supervision.
you quickly take off your coat, rushing into the kitchen.
nothing seemed to be off when you walked in, nothing burning, no alarms ringing, no funky smells that attacked your olfactory senses, you can only hope for the best.
"y/n!" sana's bright smile gives you immediate relief. you narrow your eyes, carefully stepping around the kitchen, looking for any signs of anything wrong.
"what are you doing?"
"making sure that everything is supposed to be where it's supposed to be and nothing is broken."
"why would anything be broken?"
once you're finished with your inspection, you turn to sana, zeroing in on her and grabbing her face with your hands, squeezing her cheeks together.
it's kind of adorable when she frowns, pouting and starting to protest, but you shush her, patting her down and inspecting her face to make sure she hasn't done anything to herself or hurt herself in any way.
"okay it seems like we're safe." you let her go but she immediately latches onto you, bringing you into a hug with an airy giggle.
"i'll forgive you for thinking i burnt down our kitchen."
you roll your eyes but return her hug, only breaking away when the doorbell rings.
"i'll get it. go clean up." sana smiles sweetly, patting your butt as she moves around you towards the door.
you roll your eyes, heading into your shared bedroom, taking off your work clothes and changing into a more comfortable set of sweats and an oversized t-shirt.
when you walk back out, you see sana's set up the dining table with takeaway.
"what's this?" you smile teasingly when you sit down.
"i wanted to cook but then i thought about the last time i wanted to cook and i decided to get takeaway for us instead." she grins, "see i'm responsible! can't believe you thought i'd try anything again after last time."
"i scraped some cheese off the ceiling the other day."
"aaaand now there's no more cheese on the ceiling! problem solved!"
you both laugh, and you help her set the table, opening the takeaway boxes and beaming at the smell of tteokbokki.
once you're both settled in across from each other, content with filling your mouths with fluffy rice cakes and spicy sauce, you talk through your days.
"there was this person i've never met before at work today."
"oh?"
"yeah she was a little strange, but she was really sweet. i had forgotten that i had a meeting with the boss today and she made up some excuse about how her dogs had messed with my work and apparently the boss believed it so now i don't have to get my deadline stuff done until next week."
"that's cute. did you get her name?"
"momo i think. sounds japanese, think you know her?"
"what because all japanese people in seoul know each other?"
"i didn't mean it like thattttt!"
sana giggles, "i know i know i'm just teasing. but no i don't know her. thinking about replacing me already y/n?"
you roll your eyes, picking out a fishcake with your chopsticks and popping it in your mouth, "just waiting for the lease to end so i can finally get rid of you actually."
sana feigns offense, "good luck finding someone else who wants to sleep next to your blanket stealing ass then."
"oh you didn't know? now that i'm working a real job i can actually afford to not have to share bedrooms anymore."
"why haven't you done it yet then?"
you blush, stabbing another rice cake.
sana laughs, bright and loud, "you looooooove sleeping with me admit it."
"absolutely not."
"you doooooo you do."
"eat your food sana."
sana's laughing and you can't help but smile. her laugh was always infectious, it was the surefire way to make your day better when you were feeling a little down in the dumps, she was the epitome happiness.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
it's a few days later when you bump into momo again.
normally you make your own food to bring for lunch but today, sana had woken up sick so you had spent the morning making sure she was okay and calling in sick for her at work.
so now you were stood in line at the cafeteria, wondering just what was taking the line so long to move, your break would probably be over by the time you got to the front of the line at the pace it was going.
"i'm sorry ma'am for the last time you can't pay for your food with vouchers to baskin & robbins! if you don't move along i'll have to call security so please-"
"no you don't understand! i was told that i could use these anywhere when i won them!"
you try peeking over the shoulders of annoyed corporate soldiers and you're surprised when you catch a familiar head of raven black hair at the front of the line.
you quickly push forward, excusing yourself as people look at you in irritation.
"momo!" you call out, shoving aside a 6 foot man with blue eyes that probably worked in the finance sector.
momo turns to you, looking a little frazzled with various coupons in her hands.
"hey! what's up?" you're a little breathless from pushing in line.
she pouts, turning back to the cashier who looks like he's about to start balding from stress. "apparently i can't use these vouchers that i won at drag bingo last week."
you grab the coupons and inspect the terms and conditions. "momo these are only allowed to be used at baskin & robbins."
"but they said i could use them anywhere!"
"at any branch sweetie. not literally anywhere."
"oh... i didn't bring my wallet." she frowns, pocketing her coupons again.
"it's okay i got it." you quickly pay the cashier who looks relieved to finally get the line moving again. you pick up her tray and gesture for her to follow you to an empty table.
"you didn't have to do that y/n!"
you shrug, sitting down and sliding her tray over to her. "it's no biggie. you kinda rescued me earlier in the week anyway. i hadn't actually finished all the work i needed to get done before showing the boss. i woulda come up with some shit excuse for not finishing it so you saved my ass."
"oh don't worry about that. mina and i have been good friends since our days in dance school together, she may be a scary boss but she's a real nerd outside of the workplace."
"oh? i didn't know boss myoi could dance!"
momo happily opens her sandwich, taking a bite and speaking with her mouth full, "you can actually find her on youtube. she was a pretty famous ballerina back in the day. woulda made it big if her parents didn't drag her back to run this company."
"and you?"
"what about me?"
"you dance?"
momo laughs, "yeah. i spend most of my spare time in the studio. unfortunately it doesn't really pay well. i was going to be evicted until mina was sweet enough to offer me a job here so i can afford my rent and continue doing what i love so i owe her a lot. oh speaking of- you weren't able to get any food! here-" she slides over her salad and soup.
"oh no no it's okay-"
"please just take it. it's not much anyway, i'll still have to come up with something to pay you back."
"you know what? those baskin & robbins vouchers. do you have anyone to go with?"
momo looks up at you from her sandwich in surprise, "no i don't."
"you free after work today?"
"i was just going to head into the studio but i could free that up."
"great. i'll see you in the lobby at 5 then. we can head to that store in gangnam, the one where you can taste test like all the flavours."
"really?!" momo's eyes brigten, "i've always wanted to do that but no-one's ever wanted to go with me."
"well perfect! sounds like a plan then!"
you grin at her excitement. you were always a little more than awkward, sana was the one who found it easy to go up to anyone on the street and befriend them. it was a little harder for you to make friends, you were lucky when sana found you interesting enough in your first year of college to strike up a conversation, and then find you interesting enough to keep coming back until you were inseparable and moved in together to save money on rent. you haven't really needed anyone else aside from sana since then, but momo was different, you felt an instant connection with her that you haven't felt since sana. she intrigued you, and you wanted to get to know her better.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
you're laughing at momo's face when she cringes in disgust.
"eugh what is that? that was disgusting!"
"i think it was like pikachu something something." you manage out between laughs.
"eugh pikachu guts and blood for sure. i never thought pikachu would taste like banana and vomit."
"i can't believe you just ate pikachu! he's such a little cutie surely he can't taste bad!"
"oh yeah? you try it-" she's spooning a bit of the vile yellow coloured ice cream and shoving it into your mouth while you're still vulnerable from laughing.
the first hit of banana on your tastebuds has you coughing immediately. and now it's momo's turn to laugh at you, it's a bright, almost wheeze-like sound, you think it's cute.
"okay yeah- we need to ban the killing of pikachu- this shit should not be served-"
"i'm glad you're on the save pikachu agenda as well then. but there's no way we are finishing that one."
"we don't have to. these were technically free anyway because of your amazing bingo skills after all."
she giggles, "okay but i'm still going to see if we can get replacement flavours. i wanted to try that gone with the wind flavour as well anyway."
you wish her luck as she slides out of the booth, bringing your tray of tester ice-creams with her towards the counter and waving down an employee.
you turn on your phone, scrolling to your messages to find sana's sent you a few unread texts.
bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: u coming home tn?
bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: don't ignore me y/nnnnn
bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: am i eating dinner on my own? 😞
bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: u better be safe idiot if ur not home by 10 i'm calling the police and filing a missing persons report
you laugh a little at her messages.
y/n: don't call the police! i'm fine! i'm just out with that coworker i told u about a few days ago. the one who saved my ass w my boss. i'll be home afterwards don't wait up!
momo's coming back before you can see sana's reply. you slide your phone back into your pocket, grinning at her, "what abomination have you brought back for us to try this time?"
momo places the new tray down, "i kinda forgot most of the names but at least the colour palette this time looks a little more edible."
"really? this neon green looks edible to you?"
"hey! a lotta green flavoured foods are edible! most vegetables, apples, green tea, mint... besides there's no way anything here will be worse than pikachu guts and blood."
you scrunch your nose a little when she slides in next to you, "i wouldn't want to try a vegetable flavoured ice cream anyway."
"you're just a hater." she's grinning when she spoons out a bright pink ice cream and pops it in her mouth.
you scoff, "am not!"
"suuuuuure. i actually know this place that does this incredible carrot ice cream. you can prove you're not a hater if you come and try it with me next week. there's a new branch opening on friday."
"alright. it's so on."
you spend the rest of the night laughing and poking fun at each other. you got along really well with momo, it felt so easy to connect with her. your levels of awkwardness rubbed off on each other perfectly. you enjoyed hanging out with her, and you're glad work seemed a lot less lonelier now.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
it ends up being really late by the time you get home. momo and you had decided to go for a round of karaoke after ice-cream and the mix of soju and trying to scream to reach the high note in twice's i can't stop me meant you had lost track of time. it was okay though because it was the weekend tomorrow so neither of you had work.
you slip off your shoes in the dark, careful not to make too much sound that could wake sana.
you're tiptoeing into the living room when the lamp light suddenly turns on, and sana's sitting on the couch with her arms crossed.
"you're alive."
you giggle a little at sana looking alike to an evil villain waiting for you to come home. she was much too happy-go-lucky to pull it off.
"what's funny?"
"noooothing."
she frowns, "are you drunk?"
"maaaayyybee."
sana stands up, walking past you and into the kitchen, you follow her like a lost puppy.
"drink this." she pushes a glass of water into your hand, watching you expectantly until you get the message and bring the cup to your lips.
"all of it."
you groan, gulping down the water, and cringing at the fullness you feel in your stomach from all the liquids sloshing around.
sana sighs, rubbing her forehead. "i was worried when you didn't return my texts y'know."
you frown now, realising sana was actually a little annoyed. "i'm sorry. i should've texted you i'd be home late."
she softens, always so forgiving, "it's okay. did you have fun?"
you grin dumbly, nodding, "momo's soooo funny."
"momo?"
"the coworker i was telling you about! she tried to-" you hiccup, "she tried to pay in the cafeteria today with baskin & robbin vouchers and held up pretty much the entire building. i paid instead and we went out and used the vouchers after work, theeeeeen we did karaoke!" you giggle, remembering the day you've had.
"oh..." she's frowning and you can't understand why so you poke her forehead, trying to undo the frown on her face.
"why are you sad?"
"i'm not."
"you're something."
sana rolls her eyes, grabbing your hands to stop playing with her face and leading you towards the bathroom. you're easily distracted, humming a silly tune that's come to mind while she sits you down on the toilet and starts wiping your makeup for the day off. it's a little more complicated when she tries to take your contacts out because you can't stop giggling and blinking but she manages in the end, making you rinse some mouthwash instead of brushing your teeth because she could tell you were falling into the sleepy stage of being drunk.
she's pulling you up and leading you towards your shared bedroom now, putting you to bed and then sliding in next to you, reaching to cover the blanket over the both of you.
you yawn, turning to face her and knock your foreheads together gently, but when you feel the wrinkles still there you open your eyes. "why are you still frowning?"
you can feel her immediately try and relax, "'m not."
"you were."
"ugh just go to sleep y/n. it's late and i'm tired." she's turning around and shuffling away from you which is weird because she was always the one who cuddled and latched onto you before bed.
you miss her warmth immediately, inching towards her and draping an arm over her midriff, entangling your legs and pushing your nose into her hair. "'m sorry."
she sighs against you, grabbing your hands and playing around with your fingers. "it's okay. just don't forget about me yeah?"
"how could i forget about you?"
"goodnight y/n."
you want to ask her more, but you can feel your eyes growing heavier, letting them drift shut, dreaming of ice-cream and cuddles.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
it became a regular thing.
momo and you would hang out after work every friday, she was quickly becoming one of your closest friends.
one night, when you're spread out on a picnic blanket on a hill a little bit away from the city, counting the stars, she asks you, "are you seeing anyone y/n?"
you look at her surprised, "no. why?"
"why aren't you seeing anyone? surely it's not because no one's asked you out before. you're gorgeous and fun to be around. is it because no one's been good enough?"
you blush a little at the compliments, turning to lay back down and stare at the sky, "i think i just haven't been ready for a long time."
"ready?"
"for a relationship. i told you about my best friend sana right?"
momo hums, coming up on her elbow to peer down at you while you try and make out the various constellations in the night.
"once i found her, it kinda felt like everything was okay, like i never really needed anything more. i know a lot of people centre their lives around romantic love and finding their soulmate and whatever, but i've never been like that. with sana, everything was enough. i felt like if i wished for anything more it might disrupt that."
"is sana seeing anyone?"
you chuckle a little, thinking to sana's past romantic escapades, "she's tried but nothing's really worked out. i think we feel the same in that way. that as long as we have each other we don't really need anyone else."
there's a contemplative silence for a bit while momo studies your face. you let her, comfortable enough with her that it doesn't feel awkward even when it is silent. you connect the stars in your head, smiling when you realise you've made out the capricornus constellation.
"what about me?"
the words are spoken softly into the night, you almost don't catch it, but fate would have it blown softly your way, tickling your ears with the question. "what do you mean?"
"you say you and sana don't need anyone else. how do you feel about me?"
you sit up a little then, leaning back on your elbows as you avert your gaze from the arrowhead-like collection of stars to eyes that shine just as bright. "you're different. you're the first person to come into my life since sana that i've felt... like we were meant to meet y'know? all that soulmate stuff and whatever may be cringey but it's nice to believe in. sometimes i think there are just people that i'm meant to meet, and people that i'm not. and fate brought me you."
momo's leaning forward, her eyes drifting down to your lips, her next few words come out in a whisper, "so if i did this..." her eyes flicker back up to yours, letting you pull away if you wanted to, but you find yourself fixed on her lips as well. so when she closes the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips against yours, just barely there, you sigh into her. the smallest brush of your lips together has you feeling light-headed and hazy, she breaks away from you all too quickly, eyes filled with wonder. you can see the reflection of the night sky in her eyes.
you smile softly at her, lips still tingly from the brief kiss.
"if i did that... would that feel like i've disturbed the equilibrium you've found with sana?"
you shake your head gently, "no. it feels just right actually."
when you lean in again, it does feel just right, like the stars have aligned for this one moment. like everything that's happened to you in life has lead you to this.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
someone else didn't feel that way.
she's sitting on the couch, up late again. it was becoming more and more often that she would find herself waiting up for y/n to come home.
she hears the telltale sign of the door unlocking and you stumbling in blindly, trying to adjust to the darkness of your apartment and slipping your shoes off to place carefully on the shoe rack next to sana's.
you're kind of expecting sana to be standing there waiting for you when you come back.
"hey sana. i'm home."
"late."
"yeah i was out with-"
"momo."
"yeah..." you rub your neck shyly, heading towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. she follows you wordlessly.
"is something going on between you and momo y/n?"
you raise an eyebrow, swallowing the water in your mouth before answering, "would it be a problem if there was?"
sana frowns, "no but... i just thought you'd tell me is all."
"i do tell you everything sana. every time i come home late i tell you what we've done. it feels like you don't really want to hear it most of the time though."
she pouts, "i do! i do want to know what's going on. i'm sorry i just... i told you i just don't want you to forget about me."
"and i won't sana. i could never forget you, i don't know why you worry about that." you step up to her, cupping a cheek and tilting it up so she's looking at you.
her eyes are slightly shiny and you suddenly feel terrible for making her wait up for you all these nights, "i just- ever since you started hanging out with her, i feel like you've had less time to spend with me. and i know! i knew eventually you'd find someone to spend the rest of your life with i just- i just didn't know it'd be like this and i wasn't prepared and i don't want to lose you yet-"
"woah! woah woah woah slow down! sweetie what? how long- how come you've never told me this before? i've always felt that- and i told momo this- but i've always felt that i never needed anyone else but you! i always thought that we were the ones that were going to spend the rest of our lives together, you're the only one i want to spend the rest of my life with. you'll never lose me sana i promise and momo- look just because i don't need anyone else in my life aside from you, doesn't mean it's that terrible if there is someone else that makes me happy right?"
"but- don't i make you happy?"
"oh baby you do, you do, you make me so happy." you brush a thumb across her cheek, "look how about i set up a meeting for you and momo to meet. it's about time anyway and i really think you'd get along really well if you got to know her."
she sniffles a little, thinking it over, before finally nodding albeit with slightl hesitance.
you grin, pulling her into a hug and she laughs against you, "you better be paying though."
you laugh as well, overjoyed your best friend was going to meet your... anyway, it didn't matter. sana was just happy to hold you and be close to you, letting her anxieties around you fade into the back of her mind.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
"i'm so sorry momo she promised she'd be here." you sigh in frustration, picking up your phone again to check if sana's replied to any of your messages or calls.
momo smiles kindly, "it's okay. she's probably just caught up in something. don't worry about it!"
"eugh yeah it's just really annoying because we already rescheduled this twice and now she's just not even showing up. wait... do you think something's happened to her? she's not normally bad with replies- oh god what if something's happened-"
"y/n! it's okay! she's probably just somewhere with bad reception right now. i'm sure she'll get back to you soon. should we order first? get your mind off things?"
you sigh, flipping your phone over, not wanting it to distract from the date you were now on with momo. she smiles gently, taking your hand and squeezing.
"yeah that sounds good. have you had a look at the menu yet?" you glance over at the waiter who had seated you, whispering to his coworkers with a sour look on his face, probably from the fact that the two of you have been sat here for almost 40 minutes and only picked at the starter breads and water.
the rest of dinner goes by smoothly. momo is able to distract you from your thoughts about sana and you're thankful for that. being with her was easy, fun. you don't think any of your previous relationships held a candle to momo, and you've only known each other for maybe a month or so.
dessert comes and she's telling you a funny story about how her dog boo had pooped on a guest dancer at her studio and he had to clean it up, only finding out afterwards that his name was also boo. she had apologised profusely and was very embarassed but he was nice about it and had jokingly offered to babysit her dogs anytime.
"speaking of my dogs, i was thinking... do you maybe want to... come over after dinner and meet them?" she's blushing, twirling her fork around and stabbing small pieces of the cheesecake in front of her, eyes avoiding yours.
you beam, "of course! i'd love to!"
"really?" she looks up at you in surprise.
"yeah! i gotta put a face to these little demon dogs you're always talking about."
she whines, "they're not that bad i swear!"
"you know i heard that pets actually take on characteristics of their owners..."
"... what's that supposed to mean?"
"nothing." you tease, pretending to go back to your food.
she kicks you under the table playfully, pouting. you laugh at her, finding her adorable, spooning some of your gelato up and offering it to her. her expression changes immediately when she opens her mouth, accepting the bite with a hum of satisfaction and a grin in thanks.
after dinner, you decide to walk back to momo's since she didn't live too far from the restaurant you had eaten at.
the night air is cool and refreshing, and you don't hesitate to slip your hand into momo's as you stroll along the streets. it's not too busy in this area so you can enjoy the little sounds of the creatures of the night scuttling around in the trees and on the ground. you glance over at momo who has a soft smile on her face, swinging your hands gently with each step, her face adorn with the subtle glimmer of the moon.
she catches you staring, and turns to you with a grin, "something on my face?"
you smile in return, "maaaybe something just-" you step forward, leaning in and hear her breath hitch just slightly when your eyes drop to her lips, you kiss her sweetly, 2 seconds maybe, and then you're breaking away, "there."
she's blushing, and you have a stupid grin on your face like the lovesick fool you are.
"romantic." she rolls her eyes at you, continuing your walk.
"i'll get you flowers next time."
"i'm allergic."
"chocolate then."
"i was joking i'm not allergic but now that you offered, i'll be expecting both."
"what?!"
she laughs, cackles really, her nose scrunches in the most adorable way, hand tightening around yours.
by the time you walk through the door of her apartment, you're a little tired but in the best way possible. the kind of tired where you know you're tired because you've just had the most fantastic day.
the dogs greet you at the door with excitement, panting, tongues out, jumping at momo's legs as soon as she enters. she laughs and bends down, petting them and cooing.
"so this one is dobby, he's a little shyer but he's a sweetheart once he warms up to you. and this little rascal is boo." she points out the two dogs and you bend down, reaching out a hand and letting them sniff you while momo stands up and takes off her jacket, placing it on the coat hanger.
"hiiii nice to meet you boys, i'm y/n, momo's..." you look up at momo, a little hesitant.
she raises an eyebrow at you, crouching down so she's eye level with you again, the dogs between the two of you, thrilled at the attention they're receiving. "girlfriend?"
you beam, giggling and leaning in to kiss her, "girlfriend."
she grins as well, standing up again and heading towards her kitchen, dobby follows her but boo continues to lick at your hand.
"want anything to drink girlfriend?" you can hear her teasing lilt from where you are.
"i'll have whatever you're having girlfriend."
“soy sauce okay then babe?”
your heart stutters at the term of endearment, completely disregarding her drink of choice. “i-i u-um y-yeah!”
you stand up and follow the sound of her laughter into the kitchen, boo pattering along behind you.
"i'm not sure if i want to kiss you if you're the type of person who drinks soy sauce y/n."
"what?! i don't do that!"
"not what i just heard."
you gape at her, but she giggles, coming up to you and planting a kiss on your lips. you can vaguely feel the wag of the dogs' tails at your feet, wondering what exactly their mom's doing letting someone else lick into her mouth.
she breaks away with a sly smirk, "still kissed you."
"uh huh-" you quickly reattach your lips, addicted to the taste of her, the way her lips move against yours, how she smells so close to you, the way her hands grip your shirt tightly, pulling you into her when you push her against the kitchen counter, trapping her against it.
it suddenly gets a lot more serious when she nips your bottom lip softly, and you let out an uncontrollable, but very real moan, and you have to break away painfully.
"my room?" momo breathes against you, your foreheads placed against each other's, sharing the same airspace.
you bite your lip, exactly where she had sunk her teeth into only seconds prior, watching the way she stalks your action like a hawk, "mhm."
and she surprises you when she picks you up easily by the thighs, and you yelp, wrapping your legs around hers and feeling her grin into the next kiss she lands on your lips, navigating her living room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind the both of you so her dogs wouldn't be privy to the sights of you coming apart under your new girlfriend's tongue.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
the next morning, momo kisses you awake with the smell of breakfast wafting into the bedroom. you blush at the sight of her only in an oversized tee, the marks on her thighs reminiscent of your activities the night prior. she doesn't fail to tease you at the red pigment blossoming on your cheeks, pointing out your own marks on your neck and chest.
you spend the morning cuddling on the couch, watching reruns of glee and feeding each other the waffles momo's made for breakfast, stealing kisses in between each bite, the dogs playing around on their own, sometimes hopping into your lap to nose at you or momo, asking for pets and pats.
you smile dreamily as you unlock your door, remembering your time with her, how she promised she'd buy a new toothbrush for you if you promised to come over again, which you did of course, that was obviously a given but you adored her asking.
you step inside finding it quiet. when you place your shoes next to sana's spot on the shoe rack, you realise she's still home when you thought she was meant to be working.
"sana?"
there's no response, so you drop of your things, entering your living room and finding she's nowhere to be found. you frown, heading towards the kitchen, then the bathroom, and finally your room with the door ajar. you peek inside and find a lump under the sheets, her blackout curtains still tightly shut.
you tiptoe inside, hovering over the bed and peeling back the duvet a little to see if she's still asleep.
you don't expect her to yelp, pulling the duvet back and burrowing deeper into the little nest she's made. you hear the telltale signs of her scrambling to cover up the fact that she was crying.
"w-what are you doing here?" her voice is croaky, shaky, you sit tenderly on the side of the bed.
"this is my home."
there's a sniffle, and then "people come home and sleep in their own beds. you didn't."
you sigh, trying not to get frustrated, "sana... you didn't turn up yesterday. and you never called me back or returned any of my texts."
"my grandma was sick."
"is she okay now?"
"y-yeah."
"was she really sick?"
"...no."
you hum, placing a hand gingerly on what you deduct to be her arm.
"i'm not mad."
"you shouldn't be."
you raise an eyebrow, "you stood us up."
"i had my reasons."
"and what were they?"
she sighs under the covers, then suddenly she's whipping them down and leaning into your space, planting her lips on yours.
you're stunned for a second, 2 seconds, and then she's pulling away, and burrowing back under the covers. you barely caught a glimpse of red cheeks and red eyes, your lips tingling from the press of her lips.
it's too late to pull her back out when you come to your senses, touching your fingers to your lips still in mild shock.
"i-i- s-sana i-"
she sighs exasperatedly, "is that reason enough?"
"w-why didn't you tell me?"
"because you were all over this new girl! you barely had time for me anymore!"
"what- that's not- how long have you felt this way sana?"
she groans, shuffling a little, "i don't know. i just know i didn't like it when you started seeing momo."
"so all that about not forgetting you..."
"well yeah... i think i've always liked you. i was just never threatened by someone else taking you away, even with all your past partners you've never- you've always come back to me."
you sigh frustratedly, running a hand through your hair trying to think what exactly this meant for you. "i'm with momo."
she scoffs, "i know."
"we slept together last night."
"... like in the same bed? yeah we sleep together too."
"no like- like slept together slept together."
there's silence for a bit, you can hear the breaths of the both of you, the wheels in her head turning.
"... you've slept with other people before right? what difference does this make?"
"i think i really like her sana."
she sits up then, hair a mess, skin blotchy, eye bags present, but her eyes are fierce. you're hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. you really hadn't seen sana in so long. seen her smile, heard her laugh, ever since you started going out with momo she started acting weird and you knew why now, but she was right when she said you had pushed her away because of it, preferring to bask in the new romance momo offered you, avoiding dealing with the complicated feelings that arose when you thought about sana. you missed her.
"if this is you rejecting me just come out with it. stop beating around the bush and say it. say you don't love me like i love you."
"... you... you love me?"
she rolls her eyes impatiently, a crease forming between her eyebrows that you want to reach out and smooth out of habit, "yes."
"i-" you can feel tears welling up, you don't want to choose between your best friend and your new lover. you don't want to lose sana because of this.
sana notices because she notices everything about you, and her eyes soften, wanting to touch and comfort but resigning to fiddling with her fingers instead.
"just go." she says softly after you're unable to form words for the next minute.
"no but i-"
"i'm tired y/n. just go." she's turning around onto her side, preparing to lie down and curl up again, but in the spur of the moment, you grab her wrist, pulling her into you and kissing her again.
she lets out a sound of surprise, eyes widening, but lets you kiss her.
you're not even sure what you're doing, all you can think is you can't lose sana. not like this. not when the entire future you've planned out in your head includes her. not when she tastes like the saline of the tears streaming out of both of your eyes, that and a hint of something that was uniquely sana. not when you both still had so much life left to live together.
all of this remains in your mind when you follow her tear tracks, kissing her neck, her shoulders, down her chest. you can feel her still crying even when she sucks new marks into your skin, right next to the ones momo's left on you last night. the both of you don't know what this means, just that it's the end of something, and you were both going to make the most of it.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
"so how's sana been?"
"huh?"
"your best friend y/n. was everything okay after she wasn't able to make dinner last week? you haven't talked about her much since then."
"oh. yeah she's alright." you're not really sure if she was alright actually. you haven't seen her since the two of you slept together. you woke up to an empty bed, no note, but all of her things were still around so you know she hasn't run off to another country or anything.
"that's good. is there anything you wanna talk about?"
"what do you mean?"
"you've just been a little distant since last week. is it- do you regret- do you still want to be together?"
you look up from pushing your food around your plate, surprised at the vulnerability in momo's voice.
"no- i mean yes of course i still want to be together! i'm sorry i've been off i just-" you sigh dejectedly, "there's something i need to show you after work today."
"oh?"
"yeah... it's not... it's not anything you have to worry about, and i think it'll explain a lot, but it's also pretty heavy so i understand if you don't want to-"
you're cut off when she grabs your hand, squeezing it gently and smiling, "i'd love for you to show me. i'm just glad you're not breaking up with me one week into the relationship." she jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood, and you smile, grateful for her, but feeling your anxieties pile up knowing that you were about to reveal something to momo that no one else except sana knew. if you wanted this relationship to work though, you needed to do this. you couldn't start this relationship off on the wrong foot, you wanted to do this right.
♰˚☽˚。⋆
your grip on momo's hand is tight, but she doesn't complain, squeezing back every few minutes to remind you that you weren't alone.
after work, you had driven both you and momo to your destination, a park a little out of the ways. the drive was quiet, momo didn't mind though, humming softly to the music on the radio and staring out the window, glancing back at you every so often. you parked, stepping out of the car, already doubting the decision of coming here.
there are a few other people in the park milling about. momo smiles politely at an old couple who break away from a hug to nod greetings at you. you barely notice them though, your tunnel vision and your thoughts becoming louder as you get closer.
you pull along momo who's holding a large bunch of flowers that you had stopped by at the florist on your drive to pick up.
you spot her then. avoiding eye contact as you get closer to her.
then you're standing in front of her.
"y/n."
momo lets out a little muted gasp behind you, but you squeeze her hand, focusing forward.
"sana."
"i see you've decided to forcefully make momo and i meet like this."
"i didn't have any other option."
"there's always another option y/n."
"not when it comes to you sana."
she tilts her head, "what is that supposed to mean?"
you shuffle your feet a little, "you know what it means."
she sighs, stepping closer and cupping your cheek. "why are you crying?"
you're surprised at her statement, the hand that's not holding momo's coming up to wipe hastily at your eyes.
sana's hand drops along with her face. "i thought you said you'd never forget me."
"and i never will sana."
"what's this then? it feels an awful lot like goodbye."
you can't contain the tears streaming down your cheeks, "i could never say goodbye to you sana."
sana's crying now too when she looks up, "don't then. don't say goodbye. say you'll pick me. say we'll stay together for the rest of our lives, like we promised when we were kids. say you love me y/n."
"i-i- i can't sana! i can't do that!"
"why not?"
"because- because i still have the rest of my life sana."
she sniffles, wiping at her eyes. how you wished you could see her smile just once more.
"i guess this is it then."
"no. no this isn't- i told you sana i'll never forget you. you'll always be with me. everything i do i'll always think about you, every new person i meet, every new life stage i enter, i'll think about you. i- i- i loved you sana."
then sana's in your arms, crying into your neck while you hold her, sobbing nearly hysterically, clutching onto everything, a film roll of memories playing behind your eyelids, of the first time you met, the first kiss you shared drunk at a college party, the times you'd piggy back sana from the library to your shared apartment after attempting to pull an all-nighter, the time you first signed your lease together, the time she squealed and brought you into a hug after you got your first job, insisting on a celebration, every single birthday, graduation, milestone, every single moment you've shared with her crosses your mind.
"i have to let you go now." you croak into her ear, voice still shaky and laden with emotion.
she's quiet for a bit, then she pulls back, eyes wet but smiling. she's smiling. oh god you've missed it. "i understand." she says against your lips, foreheads knocked against one another's. you close your eyes, committing to memory her smile, each line, each crease, you were never going to forget her.
when you blink your eyes open again, she's gone, the only evidence of her existence, the headstone reading:
in loving memory of
minatozaki sana
1996 - 2019
you don't even realise you're crouching in front of the headstone now, having let go of momo's hand long ago, until you hear a small rustle behind you and you look up to see momo offering the flower bouqet to you and crouhing down. you smile in gratitude, taking it from her and placing it under the letters of the headstone gently, rearranging to make sure it fit perfectly.
you speak up after a while, having left momo in the dark for long enough now. "it was a freak accident. she was coming home late after work because there was this kid in her class who's parents didn't come pick them up until way after school ended. she was in a rush because it was movie night. no matter how busy our lives got, we always had movie night, something that was stable when everything else in life wasn't i guess. didn't see the car coming. she died on the way to the hospital."
momo's quiet, placing a hand gently on your shoulder.
"i'm sorry i lied to you. i haven't- it's been five years since it happened, but i haven't fully moved on i guess. not until now. you know this is the first time i've visited her grave since the funeral?" you chuckle brokenly, feeling the tears well up again.
"and there's not even anything under here. she was cremated and her parents took her back to japan."
"that doesn't mean you can't still grieve here."
you sigh, "i know. and it's silly y'know? to think i'm still grieiving after 5 years. everyone else has moved on except me. i still- i still saw her everyday- in that way i wasn't lying to you. i just- after the accident and then the rush of the funeral, it all didn't feel real. i still felt like i was going home to sana, and to laughs and smiles and movie nights and cuddles. it didn't make sense y'know? i know death is natural and whatever but it doesn't make sense to me, how someone is here one second and then gone the next. i couldn't make sense of it. so i didn't. she was still alive to me. i still saw her everyday, still packed both our lunches, sent her off to work, took care of her when she was sick, i never got rid of any of her things because in my head she was still using them. she still has her place on the shoe rack at home, her clothes are still mixed in with mine, her expired skin products are still on the bathroom counter. i never- she's always been with me momo i-"
you start blubbering, words no longer making sense and you feel momo shuffling closer to you, wrapping her arm around you tentatively, and you turn and bury yourself into her, crying into the arms of someone physical. someone who was real, who was here in the present with you.
momo doesn't say anything, letting you cry, running her hand through your hair soothingly, letting you take as much time as you needed.
when your sobs subside the sun's setting. you sniffle into her, breathing in her scent, a new comfort to you.
"grief is a monster. not everyone gets out alive, and those that do might only survive in pieces. but it's a monster that can be conquered with time."
you chuckle a little into her. "where'd you get that from?"
"a book i read. summer bird blue. i can lend it to you if you want."
you hum, pulling away from her and wiping at your eyes, smiling softly, "i'd like that."
she smiles as well. "do you think she would’ve liked me?"
you turn back to the gravestone, the cold words etched in marble. "yeah. i think she would’ve loved you. i kept on telling her that y'know? in my head. you two would’ve gotten along famously."
"i'm glad." momo turns to the gravestone as well, "it's nice to finally meet you sana. i promise i'll take care of y/n. you don't have to give me the whole best friend speech about how you'll curse me for the rest of my life or anything. she's special, and i'm grateful you were such a good friend to her. she loved you a lot."
you sniffle, listening to momo talk to sana. when she's done, she looks back at you with a smile, her face illuminated with the golden-orange hues of the sunset.
"thank you momo."
"hmm?"
"remember how i was talking about soulmates? how i think there's people i was meant to meet and people i'm not? thank you. i think sana brought you into my life to help me get over this. i haven't- the last five years has just been me in my head, i've been on autopilot. you were the first person to change that. to make me feel like- like there was a little more brightness to life again."
momo's tearing up now as well, you'll learn that it's not very common that she cries. "i'm glad fate has led me to you then. and i hope you know this doesn't mean sana's gone. she'll always stay with you."
you look back to the tombstone longingly, "i know. i promised i'd never forget her. she will always stay with me."
momo leans into you again, and you rest your head on her shoulder, the cool breeze blowing against you softly, the sun setting behind you.
maybe momo was right. it took you five years, and it'll probably take you a lot longer, but you were going to get over this monster, and you were going to live out the rest of your life, like sana always wanted for you, not in-your-head-sana, the real sana that you're not afraid to admit is gone now, but will always stay in your mind, your heart, with your soul.
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driftwood-fireflies · 3 months
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okay we all joke about the stabbing scene being an obvious metaphor for penetration and yes yes it is i know. but really. REALLY. in scream, the knife is a phallic symbol. (to me ! < this is your one and only disclaimer that this post is my opinion lol)
there's so much to dig into when you think of it in those terms - of course all the penetration but also the subtler things. the very intentional way it's stroked clean after every use, the way they handle it so gingerly and softly (see: stu's handoff to billy, billy's gesticulating with it perched precariously between his fingers) until the moment they get to use it for its intended purpose, at which point they become rougher, more animalistic. the way billy sucks the tip of it.
you could even argue that the way the blade is shaped lends itself to the metaphor. it's a buck 120, with a clip blade. now, i wont get into the different specs and purposes of blade shapes, but i will say that the clip blade is meant for hunting - specifically hunting that requires precision in tighter spaces. i dont think i have to explain how the symbolism carries over.
and i mentioned this briefly, but the way billy gestures with the knife is also so apt when you view it from this lens. i thought it was comical at first the way he let it, essentially, dangle in his hand while he waved it, and you can see how unsteadily it bobs and sways in his light grip. up until the point of action, you could almost call it flaccid. well, as flaccid as solid steel gets.
and yes, lets please talk about the penetration actually. this might be my most deranged explanation yet, but i want to attempt to explain WHY the penetration is a sexual innuendo, as opposed to vaguely gesturing at it and telling you to come to your own conclusions - because, to me, it's more layered than "phallic object went inside someone."
its apparent that billy and stu's favorite method of murder is gutting. they specifically note as much in the opening scene, namely that they "want to see what [casey's] insides look like." and how else to better carry over the metaphor? the senses of sight and touch are so inextricably linked to the point that many people can identify what an object looks just by feeling it. all that to say - if your phallic symbol doesnt carry over that sensation of touch, they cant feel through the blade, then your next best option is to express the same mechanics of a sexual encounter through sight. penetrative sex is, of course, the act of feeling someone's insides. in this context, seeing is the same thing, really. in this way, the act not only of penetration but of stabbing and gutting specifically, is tantamount to a sexual encounter.
anyway tl;dr scream is a gay romcom and the knife is a big penis.whatever
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anantaru · 1 year
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YOU MISSED A SPOT
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — kaveh loves to be intimate with you, yet in his eyes there's nothing that's possibly better than cleaning you up real good afterwards.
— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 1.4k
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, unprotected and a bit rough, messy, oral (fem! receiving), cum eating, a little feral kaveh, he's just feeling himself
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"y-yes.. this feels good."
two large palms generously shifted you in a most flaming direction while you began to archly choke upon your own boiling hot pants at the dizzy impact being placed on you, "please faster!" and not a single tender inch of you had been untouched because it was him who was sensibly handling you this night.
when kaveh closes the space and brims you half way, a twisted moan pries off his very lips, but he leaves his crushing cock inside of you because he requires you to taste him— each pivotal twitch of his veins or how your soft walls had been settling around his girth, the pumps he'd fill you with were so unbelievably skilled that it had you squeeze unawarely around him, once, twice, truly countless.
"fuck— so pretty." he laments unmindfully and drags himself deeper with the filthy squelching sounds of your cunt growing by a tenfold, much to his own keening pleasure. Kaveh admires you, all of you— his crimson eyes? they were so considerate, humane, peacefully cruising over your thumping chest where he followed your fingers playing with your stiff nipples.
"please, kaveh." you giddily mewl at him and keep your serious attention to where your warm bodies webbed into one another, deliberately emerging embarrassed by how increasingly smudged his leaking cock had gotten from your dripping liquids alone. "i'm so so close."
the outflowing sight of you was so unquestionably lewd and dirty, he essentially needed to gulp his budding saliva down additionally to get proper rid of the awful tie sprouting deep in his strained throat. Not at all was kaveh solely burning and hungry for your pretty figure or dominating shadows, but your weeping pussy that was made for him— he had been sure that this was the single case at hand.
from your acquired intimate position now— with handsome kaveh overpowering you from above, he eminently presses himself in your cunt. Little do you realize, you had gotten an immaculate view on his well carved stomach, his flawless firm muscles and how each curve was settled with sweat. Your glassy eyes roll back when he further forces his swollen length into your walls— an inch faster, more unparalleled, hotly sinking into your undiscovered places you never were able to guess could be reached in the first place.
at bottom, your glossy cunt took him flawlessly, like an obedient darling, guzzling him in without a single thought being wasted— because truthfully speaking, no words couldn't possibly describe this moment. Yet, humorously enough, in a way it was simple, being intimate with each other, but it wasn't the same experience when it's with someone who inhaled each and every square of your beauty, markedly when he too, viewed you as unconditional perfection in his glowing vermillion eyes.
"now, now." kaveh deeply hums into his sizzling chest and made sure to devilishly emphasize his falsely innocent words with a fastened push against your plump cunt, daringly obtaining all the slicked arousal on his lower area when gifting you another pointed shove in your core, one more, kaveh desired to be drowned by the honeyed sense of listening to the mess you made— which, evidently, he was the cause of it. "fuck— there!"
remarkably fueled by the inner burning lust, kaveh declines into your perspiring skin and heaves you to himself, his sizable hands swiftly trawling your face to him so he could sloppily kiss you while crowding you— jamming his milky whites into your insides within a brimming embracement as he dug his tip in greater.
you whine out in packed bliss, your frame fervently shuffling on all ends when you chargingly clinched onto him with your fingernails digging straight dagger like pain into his delicate back.
kaveh leaves you to it— he baths in seeing you so stimulated by his cock when boundless butterflies crossed your stomach as you released on his member.
you appeared fucked out with your eyes hanging low, even more eminently when your dampened back vaulted off the soiled mattress to accessorize the twisted movements of your body— it had a significant hold on you, the tasteful overstimulation of the somewhat fluttering sensation catching you in the best possible way.
those exposed and biting moments after, when kaveh keeps himself locked inside of your stretched hole. A ritornelle of ponderous pants were traded by you yet none of you decided to bury the silence for a minute— you settled to carry on and rest into each others comfort, hugged close and intermeshed in your arms.
you lean into his soaked neck and his little hair strands tickle your nose, severing out a feebly smile form your lips, "i'm not done yet." kaveh states bluntly, tracing his tender hand over your hips to pull himself off you— though keeping his cock buried in the mess, knowing that if he were to pull out of you now, all the tasty sweetness would just go to waste, really, "wait, you already want to go for another round?"
"no, don't worry love, not now at least." you laced your eyes on your boyfriend with a lost assertion. "you need to rest." kaveh was cautious when he dragged his— still part erect cock, out, next expertly squeezing your sore thighs into your chest to have a much finer view of your fluttering hole.
"i hate seeing it leave you." he shamelessly admits without moving a mere muscle on his face— you didn’t know if he meant his cum or his cock, maybe it’s the hatred of both of them leaving your sensitive cunt. He humorously places his cock on your clit to tap his red tip on your inflamed pussy, handling you daintily.
"it's too good to be wasted, don't you think?"
you lock your lower lip in between your teeth and watch kaveh decline his face down south, firstly planting a wet kiss on your sweaty chest, next keeping his attention there to trail down your pretty cleavage, lowering once further to your stomach until his head was finally in between your parted legs— his exhaled breath ghosting right above your slicked up core.
unbeknownst to anything that was currently happening, you look at him in straight disbelief, "what are you— ah!" and abruptly whine with your entire body uncontrollably jolting up when he experimentally licked a sloppy line in between your puffy folds. "wha— kaveh!"
"closer, i want you closer." he whispers into your pussy, you knew exactly what he was referring to and kept your hips lifted up. He squeezed your thighs in his palms and obediently cleans up the oozed out arousal of your hole, yours and his own mixed up milky liquids stretching on his tongue. "fuck— you're crazy." you let your hand fall on the back of his head to shamelessly grind your clit into his nose that was repeatedly nuzzling past the flesh.
"no i‘m starving." kaveh mutters with the lower vibrations of his voice webbing a newfound pleasing into your core. He glares up at you for once to watch your shy expression, you wouldn't know but you looked absolutely sexy in his eyes, when you nervously wetted your lips and heaved in short trembles, still exhausted but additionally aroused by this.
the sharp taste of his own cum with your juices was just as he expected, newish but driven with burning hunger. His eyes roll back when you moan out his name in stitched together letters, mewling out babbles, which you weren't sure what you were trying to voice in the first place.
kaveh's tongue kept up on proficient tempo and smoother down on your entrance where the most slick was gathered at, quickly fizzling his slimy muscle in and relaxing his jaw, dragging his tongue in circles while almost forgetting to breathe out properly, turning his eyes watery from both lust and a foggy mind.
you bite back the upcoming moans unthinkably while holding his head soundly in between your legs with his end goal being exposed now.
he’s shuffling his tongue on all the right places until you're entirely cleaned up and ready to go on for yet another round, so he can later drop another thick load into you, grounding his whites into your insides until his ribbons of white settled around you completely, covering you in his seed.
after that, kaveh will repeat the new, yet sinfully intriguing and perverted motion once again.
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©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work
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nerdofspades · 1 year
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Danny is on the run (reveal gone wrong, Vlad went too far, or GIW gaining brain cells, take your pick) and he makes his way to Gotham, the only place he can reasonably hide.
He's injured, scared, and cut off from all his resources, so he's been squating in a rundown half abandoned apartment somewhere, waiting to be healed enough to start trying to figure out something more sustainable.
And it just so happens that this place is where Jason sets up his first safe house when he returns to Gotham to become Red Hood, kill the Joker, and beat Bruce over the head with his failures.
Obviously, because Danny was squating, no one was really able to warn either of them about the other.
So Jason literally walks into the apartment with bags of essentials (including many guns) and basic furniture on the way and the first thing he sees is a half feral teenager in filthy ragged clothes, bundled in thread bare (and just as dirty) blankets just. In the corner.
Now, dirty or not, the kid is obvious Wayne bait. (Sure Bruce had only taken in three at this point, but three is a patern.) And Jason might be pit mad, but he is not kicking out a starving kid that looks like he's waiting for Jason to literally kick him. Not when he knows what it's like on the streets. Not when he knows this kid could wind up in the manor.
So he just. Moves in around him. And makes sure there's enough food for both of them that night. And the next.
He isn't adopting the kid. Definitely not. He's got revenge plans to deal with but... he's not heartless either. Kid can come and go as he pleases, but if he can provide a safe place for him to sleep and some warm food he doesn't have to steal, then he's going to.
On Danny's end. He knows there's something sketchy about this guy. He smells like shit, and he got this crappy apartment, but he also clearly has money? All the furniture is pretty clean and new (though it's all generic and nothing fancy). And of course. All the guns. Hard to ignore that part.
Danny really shouldn't stay anywhere near him. Not safe. (Not for either of them if who ever he's running from catches up and this guy shows up on their radar.)
Hell. This guy should know better than to let a total stranger hang out when he's planning something that requires that many guns.
But all he does is tell Danny he can stay and to not touch the guns.
And then he feeds Danny.
And gives him a spare key.
Neither of them speak to each other for weeks.
Danny is well enough to move. But he doesn't want to.
So he doesn't.
He comes and he goes. But he doesn't leave.
(It's a bad idea. He should leave. But. Maybe there's safety in numbers.)
And then things start shaking up. Black Mask's lieutenant are dead. Someone is starting a gang war.
But no one can figure out who's leading it. No one knows what gang.
Danny sees his... live in acquaintance come back to the apartment injured.
He sees more guns and more ammunition.
He knows it's not a gang.
Not yet.
They still don't talk.
Not until Red Hood comes in through the window one night, and Danny grabs the first aid kit and patches him up without asking any questions.
He makes the first step and tells Hood his name. Only his first name. His last isn't useful anymore.
And they talk.
They share some stories.
Edited. Half true stories.
And they talk through some stupid shit.
But eventually. They stop hiding behind half truths too. It only takes so many times covering each other for the full story to spill.
In for a penny and all that.
Jason convinces Danny he should finish his schooling.
Danny convinces Jason that maybe the new Robin isn't a part of his problems.
Jason doesn't drop his plans for revenge. Or stop blaming Bruce.
Danny refuses to go to a public school, but allows for online schooling.
Jason gets Danny a new name. A new identity. He needs one for school.
Maybe he did adopt the kid after all.
Jason really hopes Bruce never finds out.
Of course Bruce finds out.
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matherofdragons · 6 months
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Translating all Endo's comments from the SxF movie booklet part 1
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Q1: Do you prefer black coffee like Loid or do you like straight black tea?
A: Straight style. Milk is only added when your stomach hurts
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Q2: How does Loid spends his holidays?
A: He doesn't have holidays.
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Q3: How does Loid appear bigger, or rather how does he changes his body shape?
A:"Nightfall" essentially follows "Twilight" that's why I chose it
A: In simpleton terms, make up and costume skills. They can create an optical illusion. For example stuffing cotton in your mouth and clothes to make them look bigger. If you the time and information you can apply special make-up to your body.
Q4: About Fiona's code name Nightfall
Q5: Tell me about Loid's recent worries
A: He's always worried about everything and trying to think of the best choice.
Q6: Can you speak any foreign language?
A: Once you have learned enough, you will be able to speak most of the languages required for your mission.
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Q7: What vehicles can Loid operate?
A: Once you have learned enough, you will be able to drive most of the vehicles required for any mission.
Q8: Anya has no interest in clothes, but I would like to ask who chooses her outfits
A: MAINLY LOID! In order to maintain the image of a daughter from a a good family in front of the neighbours and avoid suspicion from them, elegant clothes are chosen. But Anya doesn't know that and gets them dirty quickly.
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Q9: What's the of the Robot?
A: Mr. Robot
Q10: What's Anya's dream for the future?
A: What I say changes every day. (It's not set in stone)
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Q11: What does Yor usually have for lunch?
A: She goes to the cafeteria in the City hall, or goes to eat nearby.
Sometimes she has Loid make her a lunch box. (It's hard to eat lunch because Camilla and Milly stare at her)
Q12: What does Yor think of her own cooking? Does she like it?
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A: I don't think she finds it delicious. I am in a state where I don't know the correct answer..
Q13: Has Yor partaken in any cooking challenge?
A: Cracking the egg shelves clearly (as in clean crack? Idk how to say it). It's difficult to adjust.
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Q14: Bond once smelled the food Yor had cooked and fainted after taking a sip, but his nose may have become insensitive.
A: I think his nose is as effective, or even better than regular dog's. Yor's sweets(snacks) smelled "safe"
Q15 what type of dog does Bond like?
A: One that haa a beautiful coat. Smells good. The bridge of his nose is sharp. It seems that the child who is reflected in the camera is a little weak.
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Q16 What does Bond do when the family is out during weekdays?
A: He hangs around and sometimes plays with Frankie.Although he and Penguin have reconciled, their relationship is still a bit strained, so he doesn't get close to Anya's room when she's not around
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