#jetbridge

[stochastique-blog]

Experiment - Automatic Random_Reblog - Ask me !

Jet bridge #passengerboardingbridge #airbridge #jetbridge #jetway #skybridge #connector #lhr #heathrow #terminal2 #airport #london (at London Heathrow Terminal 2 - The Queen’s Terminal) https://www.instagram.com/p/ChDcgdKK75r/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[hiddenavenues]

Where Boundaries Blur and Desires Go Unspoken

Logan Howlett/GN!Reader MDNI 18+

a/n: I can't tell if this is good or not because I have proofread it so much... so I'm banking on you guys letting me know. Also, happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!

CW: Mean!Logan, Logan's got some control issues, angst w/ comfort sex, yelling, jealousy, Explicit sexual content, degration if you squint, Cunnilingus, P in V, Aftercare

"How many times do I have to say no before it sinks into your thick skull?" Logan's voice was dangerously low, venom dripping off each word as he stood between you and the jet doors.

You have been arguing since you woke up this morning about a mission you want to take part in. Charles had invited you, said you were ready, and that it'd be an excellent first mission, but Logan thought otherwise. When you told him about it a few days ago, you assumed his immediate no was him being a protective mother hen, but now you see it's more than that. 

"You better not be talking to me like that, Logan." You bite out, voice thick with anger. Logan had been dodgy about what he wanted between you, some days gifting you flowers from missions, other times knocking on your bedroom door late at night with nothing pure in his intentions. 

Logan let out a bitter laugh, leaning down to be at eye level with you. "No one wants you on this mission. You're inexperienced, a risk to us all, and just as likely to kill one of us as the enemy." You sneered at him, a low growl ripping from your throat as a steady ache grew in your chest. Logan turned on his heel as if you were nothing to him, dismissing you with a look before striding toward the jet.

You walked after him, nails digging into the flesh of your palms in an effort to calm your rage. "How am I supposed to get experience if you throw a tantrum whenever I want to go? I am ready. I want to help." Logan stopped and turned to face you outside the jetbridge.

"Ready?" He scoffs. "You're not ready for this, and you never will be. You're a liability, and the only reason Charles invited you is because he's too soft to see what a mistake it is." His voice was louder now, and as much as you wished Jean and Storm wouldn't listen, you knew they were hearing every word. "You think this is about me being overprotective? No, I just don't want to have to drag your dead weight back in a body bag." Without giving you time for a rebuttal, Logan turned his back to you and walked up the jetbride, Jean and Storm giving you a sad smile from inside. 

You felt your face crumple as his words hit home; burying his claws in your chest would've hurt less. A ringing in your ears grew louder by the second, nearly drowning out the deafening hum of the jet turbines. "Go ahead, leave. I won't be waiting for you when you come back." Your voice broke with emotion as you shouted at him, but you held your head high and your spine straight as you walked away. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your back, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of turning around. 

Your blood was on fire, molten lava coursing through your veins. You waited for the doors out of the jet bay to slide shut behind you before sending your first into the wall, a colourful flow of curses following. He never spoke to you like that, as if you were nothing more than dirt under his shoe. Your chest felt like it could cave in any second; the uniform you had so excitedly pulled on this morning for your first mission felt stupid now, like you were wearing a costume you'd never grow into. 

Your thoughts continued to spiral as you took the elevator up to the main levels of the house. Logan's words echoed through your mind. You're a liability. It felt as though only a husk of yourself was walking through the halls, the warm sunny day outside mocking you.

As if the day couldn't get any worse, Scott rounded the corner before you, brows raised upon seeing you. "Chickened out so soon? You wouldn't shut up about it earlier." Scott asked, concern etched into his forehead as he watched you. You have grown close since you arrived at the school nearly two years ago. You always helped each other through everything, pinging opinions off each other over any decision, big or small. Scott almost ripped your head off when he first heard about you and Logan, saying how selfish, annoying, and mean he always is. Maybe he was right. 

You sigh, a knot forming in your throat at the thought of explaining your encounter with Logan. Scott must have seen the misery on your face because before you knew it, he was taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen, plopping you down on a chair at the table. While he made the two of you something to drink, you told him about the fight with Logan, trying your best not to break down where someone could easily walk in. 

Scott slid a mug of hot chocolate across the table, settling into his chair with a cool, calculating look. “So, how’re you gonna get him back?” His voice was steady, but the cold anger in his eyes was unmistakable.

You bristled at the question, revenge being the furthest thing from your mind. “I’m not,” you replied sharply, shaking your head.

"Oh, come on, someone has to put kitty cat in his place. From the sounds of it, you have the upper hand." His grin widened as confusion flickered across your face. "Don't tell me you can't see it? Logan’s so fucked up that he thinks hurting you to keep you off the mission is protecting you. He's shown his entire hand." Scott leaned forward on his elbows, eyes locked on yours. "So I'll ask again. How're you gonna get him back?" 

For a moment, you hesitated, Scott’s words sinking in. Logan had always been possessive, scaring off any guy who got too close for his liking. Even though you weren’t officially together, he’d growl at anyone who dared approach, flashing an innocent look your way whenever you caught him.

"Actually,” A grin creeps across your face. “I think I might have an idea." 

-

You wake to the sound of the jet returning from its mission, early morning light seeping through the windows as you pad down the hall to Scott's bedroom door. It opens on the first knock to reveal Scott, face puffy and eyes heavy with sleep. 

You brush past him into the room and stand before his mirror, fussing your hair and rubbing your eyes to pull this charade off as Scott flops back into bed. You tug at your clothes, trying your best to look freshly fucked before turning to face Scott, whose eyes were so lidded with sleep you wondered if he'd remember any of this. 

"So, how do I look?" You ask, giving him a spin. 

Scott huffs a laugh. "Honestly? Dishevelled. You're missing the afterglow, but otherwise, you'd fool even me into thinking you had the fuck of your life in here." 

"Only in your dreams." The sound of creaking stairs silenced your banter as you listened to Logan making his way to his room. 

"Ah-ah-ah, be careful, kitty's got special hearing. Don't wanna foil your plan so soon, do ya?" Scott whispered, giving you a wink before tucking back into bed, content to go back to sleep, utterly ignorant to your heart's racing. You sucked in a deep breath before opening the door and stepping into the dark hallway.

You hear more than see Logan's steps stutter against the carpeted flooring as you shut Scott's door behind you, feigning surprise when you spot him in front of you. "Shit! You snuck up on me." You feign surprise, letting a nervous laugh follow your words, eyes flickering from his to the floor. 

Logan's face was unreadable. His eyebrows pinched together as he looked at you with something like hurt in his eyes. His gaze darted from your face to the room you had just come out of, the puzzle pieces in his mind slowly clicking together. The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before Logan grabbed your arm and dragged you across the hall into his room, slamming the door shut behind you.

"What the fuck.” He growls, pinning you against the bedroom door. “I tell you ‘no’ one time, and you go spreading your legs to anyone?" 

"Oh, someone's jealous, hm?" You tease, heartbeat loud in your ears as your breath comes in hot pants. Logan’s eyes darken with desire, his nostrils flaring as he catches the scent of your arousal coating your thighs.

"Oh, you preening slut." He mocks, pressing his chest further into yours, firmly crushing you into the door. "Straight from Scott's bed to mine? You didn't even make it two steps, baby." His voice filled with condescension. You hold back a whimper at his words, making a point to look at anything but his eyes. Bringing a hand to your chin, Logan forces your gaze on his. "Funny thing is, the only sex I smell on you is your own, and we both know Scott’s too scared to touch what’s mine." Your breath catches in your throat as Logan's knee nudges between yours, pressing into your heat. 

"Admit it, you only threw a fit yesterday because you care about me. You don't want me out there 'cause the idea of me getting hurt scares you." You say, breathless and flushed, lust fogging your mind as Logan begins to grind you down on his thigh. You can't stop your hips from bucking against him, desperate for any friction.

Your gasps and whines of pleasure fill the room as you grind yourself on his thigh. Your breath mingles with his as a coil winds itself in your core, tightening with each roll of your hips. A loud whimper falls from your lips as Logan stills your movement before picking you up, bringing you to his bed and tossing you on the blankets. 

With your back to the mattress, Logan kneels between your thighs, your clothed cunt inches from his face. “I ain’t got nothin’ to say about that, hun.” He whispers as his fingers brush the skin above your waistband. Even as your mind swims from the intensity of his gaze, you can easily spot a blush coating his cheeks.

“Fucking bullshit,” You breathe, hands darting out to slip your pants down. “I know you want me. I know you were jealous when you saw me coming out of Scott’s room. If this were ‘just sex,’ you wouldn’t give a shit who I fuck, Logan.” The hand he has on your abdomen starts toying with your waistband, eyes watching your face intensely. “You’re so scared you might be able to love me that you don’t let yourself do anything more than bed me and throw me out after and act like you don’t give a fuck.”

The room was silent, your words echoing against the walls. Your breathing was loud in your ears as you held each other's gaze. It felt like a millennia passed before Logan replied.

“Here’s the plan.” The timbre in his voice had you clenching your thighs together. “I’m gonna fuck you, gonna have you cryin’ for me, and only after I have you fucked stupid in my bed ‘n wearing my shirt.” Logan’s hand trails down to your knee, placing a large hand on your thigh. “Only then do I plan on being any kinda ‘boyfriend material.’”

You nod eagerly, head falling to your shoulder as Logan’s fingers lazily finish tugging down your pants, exposing your lack of underthings to him. Logan’s eyes blaze with lust, hands sliding up your thighs to hold your hips still. You nearly moan at the sight of him, eyes half-lidded, mouth slightly agape, and your thighs resting on his powerful shoulders. His breath is hot on your naked heat as he hovers inches above you, teasing you with his mouth. A breathy moan escapes your lips as Logan presses wet kisses to your core.

Logan was immortal, and god did his oral prove it. Before long, he has you moaning and writhing against him with your hand tangled in his hair. Each tug of his hair earns you a deep growl as he devours your cunt, juices coating his face. Your breath is uneven as your back bows off the mattress.

“Fuck Logan, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” You shout, a familiar coil winding in your core as Logan continues lapping at your clit. You pull Logan further into your cunt, needing him closer, deeper. The coil snaps, waves of white hot pleasure wracking your body as your mouth falls to form a silent ‘O’. Logan’s eyes watch you intently as you come back down, waiting for you to start pushing him away before he dares to stop ravaging you. Panting, you slump into the mattress, mind reeling as Logan kisses up your body before bringing his mouth to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Did so good, so good for me. Need you to give me a few more mk?” Logan whispered into your neck as he positioned himself above you. You nod at him as you reach for his belt, hands making quick work of the buckle before eagerly unzipping and yanking his pants down. The tent in his boxers looked painfully tight; the sight alone nearly had your mouth watering. You let out an unsteady breath as your hand caresses his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, Logan’s responding moan nothing but predatory. 

“Don’t get bratty, or I’ll fuck you so loud the entire school will know who’s cock your creaming on.” Logan has his boxers pulled down before he finishes his sentence, cock slapping against his abdomen and a bead of pre-cum rolling down the head. Your eyes are glued to his cock as he begins slowly stroking himself. You grind into nothing, desperate for any friction, while Logan reaches into his bedside table to pull out a rubber, giving you a wink as if to say hey, safe sex is great sex.

Resting his forehead on your shoulder, Logan aligns himself with you, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “Tell me when you’re ready, baby,” he whispers, pressing tender kisses along your neck. You give him the go-ahead with a slight nod, and Logan slowly eases into you. His breath shudders against your skin, a low moan escaping you in response.

He pauses, giving your body time to adjust. You couldn’t quite place your finger on it, but something about this was different than your usual bedding habits: softer, less angry. When you finally beg him to move, Logan obliges, filling you with a steady, measured rhythm that leaves you gasping for more.

Each thrust has the bed shaking, the frame groaning with each piston of Logan’s hips. Your cunt sucks him in eagerly, the sound of your soaked sex embarrassingly loud in your ears as Logan increases his pace.

“No one else makes you feel this good, right bub?” Logan’s voice is breathy and muffled as he kisses your chest, sucking love bites into any exposed skin. You moan loudly, pussy clenching around him in response as your mind fails to find words to reply. You’re drunk off his cock, obsessed with the drag of him against your core, each thrust deeper than the last. You claw at his back as his thrusts grow sloppy, both of your moans turning feral and broken as a familiar burn grows low in your abdomen.

“G’nna cum, sweetheart,” Logan pants, moans bouncing off the walls of his room. “Taking me so well, g’nna fill you up, baby.”

“Fuck Lo, please, please.” Your words descend into indistinguishable mumbling as the fire in your abdomen spreads down your thighs, burning hotter with each slap of Logan's hips. Fire sears through your veins, and distantly you can hear yourself screaming, moaning, and babbling beneath Logan as he fucks you relentlessly into the mattress. His cock fills you, rocking deliciously into the spongey spot deep inside that has you seeing stars. 

“Oh, fuck-” A moan rips from Logan’s chest as his hips stutter, his release coating your thighs. Logan’s pace doesn’t slow, instead rubbing frantic circles into your clit. “C’mon baby cum for me.” The pressure in your abdomen builds before crashing down, your walls spasming around his already overstimulated cock. Your back arches off the bed as Logan kisses you desperately, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

You pull away, resting your forehead against his as both of you catch your breath. In the dim light of the bedroom, Logan looked almost ethereal, his hair tousled from your fingers, pupils blown wide as he gazes at you with a softness you’ve never seen. With a low groan, Logan carefully pulls out of you, allowing your trembling legs to relax against the bed before quietly muttering something about the washroom.

Your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion and overstimulation threatening to pull you into sleep. Moments later, the sensation of something warm and soft against your skin made you stir, a quiet whine escaping you.

“Shhh, it’s alright, love. Just cleaning you up, that’s all.” Logan’s hand gently steadies your hips, stopping your squirming as he cleans you up. Once he’s done, he helps you into one of his shirts and tucks the blanket around you. A thought flickers through your mind- this is the first time Logan’s slept next to you after sex, typically insisting he sleep on the couch or carry you to your room. You mutter a thank you into his chest, fighting the pull of sleep.

Logan plants a kiss on your forehead as his arms envelop you. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,”

You hum quietly, “Really getting the whole boyfriend experience, aren’t I?” Even with his enhanced hearing, he has to strain to catch your words as drowsiness pulls you under. 

Logan listens to your breathing even out, sleep taking over your mind as he sighs into the comfort of your embrace. “Who said this couldn’t be permanent?” He whispers to the room, hoping to find the confidence to tell you in the morning.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed<3

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Conspiratorialism and the epistemological crisis

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me next weekend (Mar 30/31) in ANAHEIM at WONDERCON, then in Boston with Randall "XKCD" Munroe! (Apr 11), then Providence (Apr 12), and beyond!

Last year, Ed Pierson was supposed to fly from Seattle to New Jersey on Alaska Airlines. He boarded his flight, but then he had an urgent discussion with the flight attendant, explaining that as a former senior Boeing engineer, he'd specifically requested that flight because the aircraft wasn't a 737 Max:

https://www.cnn.com/travel/boeing-737-max-passenger-boycott/index.html

But for operational reasons, Alaska had switched out the equipment on the flight and there he was on a 737 Max, about to travel cross-continent, and he didn't feel safe doing so. He demanded to be let off the flight. His bags were offloaded and he walked back up the jetbridge after telling the spooked flight attendant, "I can’t go into detail right now, but I wasn’t planning on flying the Max, and I want to get off the plane."

Boeing, of course, is a flying disaster that was years in the making. Its planes have been falling out of the sky since 2019. Floods of whistleblowers have come forward to say its aircraft are unsafe. Pierson's not the only Boeing employee to state – both on and off the record – that he wouldn't fly on a specific model of Boeing aircraft, or, in some cases any recent Boeing aircraft:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/22/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever/#will-eventually-stop

And yet, for years, Boeing's regulators have allowed the company to keep turning out planes that keep turning out lemons. This is a pretty frightening situation, to say the least. I'm not an aerospace engineer, I'm not an aircraft safety inspector, but every time I book a flight, I have to make a decision about whether to trust Boeing's assurances that I can safely board one of its planes without dying.

In an ideal world, I wouldn't even have to think about this. I'd be able to trust that publicly accountable regulators were on the job, making sure that airplanes were airworthy. "Caveat emptor" is no way to run a civilian aviation system.

But even though I don't have the specialized expertise needed to assess the airworthiness of Boeing planes, I do have the much more general expertise needed to assess the trustworthiness of Boeing's regulator. The FAA has spent years deferring to Boeing, allowing it to self-certify that its aircraft were safe. Even when these assurances led to the death of hundreds of people, the FAA continued to allow Boeing to mark its own homework:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8oCilY4szc

What's more, the FAA boss who presided over those hundreds of deaths was an ex-Boeing lobbyist, whom Trump subsequently appointed to run Boeing's oversight. He's not the only ex-insider who ended up a regulator, and there's plenty of ex-regulators now on Boeing's payroll:

https://therevolvingdoorproject.org/boeing-debacle-shows-need-to-investigate-trump-era-corruption/

You don't have to be an aviation expert to understand that companies have conflicts of interest when it comes to certifying their own products. "Market forces" aren't going to keep Boeing from shipping defective products, because the company's top brass are more worried about cashing out with this quarter's massive stock buybacks than they are about their successors' ability to manage the PR storm or Congressional hearings after their greed kills hundreds and hundreds of people.

You also don't have to be an aviation expert to understand that these conflicts persist even when a Boeing insider leaves the company to work for its regulators, or vice-versa. A regulator who anticipates a giant signing bonus from Boeing after their term in office, or a an ex-Boeing exec who holds millions in Boeing stock has an irreconcilable conflict of interest that will make it very hard – perhaps impossible – for them to hold the company to account when it trades safety for profit.

It's not just Boeing customers who feel justifiably anxious about trusting a system with such obvious conflicts of interest: Boeing's own executives, lobbyists and lawyers also refuse to participate in similarly flawed systems of oversight and conflict resolution. If Boeing was sued by its shareholders and the judge was also a pissed off Boeing shareholder, they would demand a recusal. If Boeing was looking for outside counsel to represent it in a liability suit brought by the family of one of its murder victims, they wouldn't hire the firm that was suing them – not even if that firm promised to be fair. If a Boeing executive's spouse sued for divorce, that exec wouldn't use the same lawyer as their soon-to-be-ex.

Sure, it takes specialized knowledge and training to be a lawyer, a judge, or an aircraft safety inspector. But anyone can look at the system those experts work in and spot its glaring defects. In other words, while acquiring expertise is hard, it's much easier to spot weaknesses in the process by which that expertise affects the world around us.

And therein lies the problem: aviation isn't the only technically complex, potentially lethal, and utterly, obviously untrustworthy system we all have to navigate. How about the building safety codes that governed the structure you're in right now? Plenty of people have blithely assumed that structural engineers carefully designed those standards, and that these standards were diligently upheld, only to discover in tragic, ghastly ways that this was wrong:

https://www.bbc.com/news/64568826

There are dozens – hundreds! – of life-or-death, highly technical questions you have to resolve every day just to survive. Should you trust the antilock braking firmware in your car? How about the food hygiene rules in the factories that produced the food in your shopping cart? Or the kitchen that made the pizza that was just delivered? Is your kid's school teaching them well, or will they grow up to be ignoramuses and thus economic roadkill?

Hell, even if I never get into another Boeing aircraft, I live in the approach path for Burbank airport, where Southwest lands 50+ Boeing flights every day. How can I be sure that the next Boeing 737 Max that falls out of the sky won't land on my roof?

This is the epistemological crisis we're living through today. Epistemology is the process by which we know things. The whole point of a transparent, democratically accountable process for expert technical deliberation is to resolve the epistemological challenge of making good choices about all of these life-or-death questions. Even the smartest person among us can't learn to evaluate all those questions, but we can all look at the process by which these questions are answered and draw conclusions about its soundness.

Is the process public? Are the people in charge of it forthright? Do they have conflicts of interest, and, if so, do they sit out any decision that gives even the appearance of impropriety? If new evidence comes to light – like, say, a horrific disaster – is there a way to re-open the process and change the rules?

The actual technical details might be a black box for us, opaque and indecipherable. But the box itself can be easily observed: is it made of sturdy material? Does it have sharp corners and clean lines? Or is it flimsy, irregular and torn? We don't have to know anything about the box's contents to conclude that we don't trust the box.

For example: we may not be experts in chemical engineering or water safety, but we can tell when a regulator is on the ball on these issues. Back in 2019, the West Virginia Department of Environmental Protection sought comment on its water safety regs. Dow Chemical – the largest corporation in the state's largest industry – filed comments arguing that WV should have lower standards for chemical contamination in its drinking water.

Now, I'm perfectly prepared to believe that there are safe levels of chemical runoff in the water supply. There's a lot of water in the water supply, after all, and "the dose makes the poison." What's more, I use the products whose manufacture results in that chemical waste. I want them to be made safely, but I do want them to be made – for one thing, the next time I have surgery, I want the anesthesiologist to start an IV with fresh, sterile plastic tubing.

And I'm not a chemist, let alone a water chemist. Neither am I a toxicologist. There are aspects of this debate I am totally unqualified to assess. Nevertheless, I think the WV process was a bad one, and here's why:

https://www.wvma.com/press/wvma-news/4244-wvma-statement-on-human-health-criteria-development

That's Dow's comment to the regulator (as proffered by its mouthpiece, the WV Manufacturers' Association, which it dominates). In that comment, Dow argues that West Virginians safely can absorb more poison than other Americans, because the people of West Virginia are fatter than other Americans, and so they have more tissue and thus a better ratio of poison to person than the typical American. But they don't stop there! They also say that West Virginians don't drink as much water as their out-of-state cousins, preferring to drink beer instead, so even if their water is more toxic, they'll be drinking less of it:

https://washingtonmonthly.com/2019/03/14/the-real-elitists-looking-down-on-trump-voters/

Even without any expertise in toxicology or water chemistry, I can tell that these are bullshit answers. The fact that the WV regulator accepted these comments tells me that they're not a good regulator. I was in WV last year to give a talk, and I didn't drink the tap water.

It's totally reasonable for non-experts to reject the conclusions of experts when the process by which those experts resolve their disagreements is obviously corrupt and irredeemably flawed. But some refusals carry higher costs – both for the refuseniks and the people around them – than my switching to bottled water when I was in Charleston.

Take vaccine denial (or "hesitancy"). Many people greeted the advent of an extremely rapid, high-tech covid vaccine with dread and mistrust. They argued that the pharma industry was dominated by corrupt, greedy corporations that routinely put their profits ahead of the public's safety, and that regulators, in Big Pharma's pocket, let them get away with mass murder.

The thing is, all that is true. Look, I've had five covid vaccinations, but not because I trust the pharma industry. I've had direct experience of how pharma sacrifices safety on greed's altar, and narrowly avoided harm myself. I have had chronic pain problems my whole life, and they've gotten worse every year. When my daughter was on the way, I decided this was going to get in the way of my ability to parent – I wanted to be able to carry her for long stretches! – and so I started aggressively pursuing the pain treatments I'd given up on many years before.

My journey led me to many specialists – physios, dieticians, rehab specialists, neurologists, surgeons – and I tried many, many therapies. Luckily, my wife had private insurance – we were in the UK then – and I could go to just about any doctor that seemed promising. That's how I found myself in the offices of a Harley Street quack, a prominent pain specialist, who had great news for me: it turned out that opioids were way safer than had previously been thought, and I could just take opioids every day and night for the rest of my life without any serious risk of addiction. It would be fine.

This sounded wrong to me. I'd lost several friends to overdoses, and watched others spiral into miserable lives as they struggled with addiction. So I "did my own research." Despite not having a background in chemistry, biology, neurology or pharmacology, I struggled through papers and read commentary and came to the conclusion that opioids weren't safe at all. Rather, corrupt billionaire pharma owners like the Sackler family had colluded with their regulators to risk the lives of millions by pushing falsified research that was finding publication in some of the most respected, peer-reviewed journals in the world.

I became an opioid denier, in other words.

I decided, based on my own research, that the experts were wrong, and that they were wrong for corrupt reasons, and that I couldn't trust their advice.

When anti-vaxxers decried the covid vaccines, they said things that were – in form at least – indistinguishable from the things I'd been saying 15 years earlier, when I decided to ignore my doctor's advice and throw away my medication on the grounds that it would probably harm me.

For me, faith in vaccines didn't come from a broad, newfound trust in the pharmaceutical system: rather, I judged that there was so much scrutiny on these new medications that it would overwhelm even pharma's ability to corruptly continue to sell a medication that they secretly knew to be harmful, as they'd done so many times before:

https://www.npr.org/2007/11/10/5470430/timeline-the-rise-and-fall-of-vioxx

But many of my peers had a different take on anti-vaxxers: for these friends and colleagues, anti-vaxxers were being foolish. Surprisingly, these people I'd long felt myself in broad agreement with began to defend the pharmaceutical system and its regulators. Once they saw that anti-vaxx was a wedge issue championed by right-wing culture war shitheads, they became not just pro-vaccine, but pro-pharma.

There's a name for this phenomenon: "schismogenesis." That's when you decide how you feel about an issue based on who supports it. Think of self-described "progressives" who became cheerleaders for the America's cruel, ruthless and lawless "intelligence community" when it seemed that US spooks were bent on Trump's ouster:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

The fact that the FBI didn't like Trump didn't make them allies of progressive causes. This was and is the same entity that (among other things) tried to blackmail Martin Luther King, Jr into killing himself:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FBI%E2%80%93King_suicide_letter

But schismogenesis isn't merely a reactionary way of flip-flopping on issues based on reflexive enmity. It's actually a reasonable epistemological tactic: in a world where there are more issues you need to be clear on than you can possibly inform yourself about, you need some shortcuts. One shortcut – a shortcut that's failing – is to say, "Well, I'll provisionally believe whatever the expert system tells me is true." Another shortcut is, "I will provisionally disbelieve in whatever the people I know to act in bad faith are saying is true." That is, "schismogenesis."

Schismogenesis isn't a great tactic. It would be far better if we had a set of institutions we could all largely trust – if the black boxes where expert debate took place were sturdy, rectilinear and sharp-cornered.

But they're not. They're just not. Our regulatory process sucks. Corporate concentration makes it trivial for cartels to capture their regulators and steer them to conclusions that benefit corporate shareholders even if that means visiting enormous harm – even mass death – on the public:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

No one hates Big Tech more than I do, but many of my co-belligerents in the war on Big Tech believe that the rise of conspiratorialism can be laid at tech platforms' feet. They say that Big Tech boasts of how good they are at algorithmically manipulating our beliefs, and attribute Qanons, flat earthers, and other outlandish conspiratorial cults to the misuse off those algorithms.

"We built a Big Data mind-control ray" is one of those extraordinary claims that requires extraordinary evidence. But the evidence for Big Tech's persuasion machines is very poor: mostly, it consists of tech platforms' own boasts to potential investors and customers for their advertising products. "We can change peoples' minds" has long been the boast of advertising companies, and it's clear that they can change the minds of customers for advertising.

Think of department store mogul John Wanamaker, who famously said "Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don't know which half." Today – thanks to commercial surveillance – we know that the true proportion of wasted advertising spending is more like 99.9%. Advertising agencies may be really good at convincing John Wanamaker and his successors, through prolonged, personal, intense selling – but that doesn't mean they're able to sell so efficiently to the rest of us with mass banner ads or spambots:

http://pluralistic.net/HowToDestroySurveillanceCapitalism

In other words, the fact that Facebook claims it is really good at persuasion doesn't mean that it's true. Just like the AI companies who claim their chatbots can do your job: they are much better at convincing your boss (who is insatiably horny for firing workers) than they are at actually producing an algorithm that can replace you. What's more, their profitability relies far more on convincing a rich, credulous business executive that their product works than it does on actually delivering a working product.

Now, I do think that Facebook and other tech giants play an important role in the rise of conspiratorial beliefs. However, that role isn't using algorithms to persuade people to mistrust our institutions. Rather Big Tech – like other corporate cartels – has so corrupted our regulatory system that they make trusting our institutions irrational.

Think of federal privacy law. The last time the US got a new federal consumer privacy law was in 1988, when Congress passed the Video Privacy Protection Act, a law that prohibits video store clerks from leaking your VHS rental history:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2008/07/why-vppa-protects-youtube-and-viacom-employees

It's been a minute. There are very obvious privacy concerns haunting Americans, related to those tech giants, and yet the closest Congress can come to doing something about it is to attempt the forced sale of the sole Chinese tech giant with a US footprint to a US company, to ensure that its rampant privacy violations are conducted by our fellow Americans, and to force Chinese spies to buy their surveillance data on millions of Americans in the lawless, reckless swamp of US data-brokerages:

https://www.npr.org/2024/03/14/1238435508/tiktok-ban-bill-congress-china

For millions of Americans – especially younger Americans – the failure to pass (or even introduce!) a federal privacy law proves that our institutions can't be trusted. They're right:

https://www.tiktok.com/@pearlmania500/video/7345961470548512043

Occam's Razor cautions us to seek the simplest explanation for the phenomena we see in the world around us. There's a much simpler explanation for why people believe conspiracy theories they encounter online than the idea that the one time Facebook is telling the truth is when they're boasting about how well their products work – especially given the undeniable fact that everyone else who ever claimed to have perfected mind-control was a fantasist or a liar, from Rasputin to MK-ULTRA to pick-up artists.

Maybe people believe in conspiracy theories because they have hundreds of life-or-death decisions to make every day, and the institutions that are supposed to make that possible keep proving that they can't be trusted. Nevertheless, those decisions have to be made, and so something needs to fill the epistemological void left by the manifest unsoundness of the black box where the decisions get made.

For many people – millions – the thing that fills the black box is conspiracy fantasies. It's true that tech makes finding these conspiracy fantasies easier than ever, and it's true that tech makes forming communities of conspiratorial belief easier, too. But the vulnerability to conspiratorialism that algorithms identify and target people based on isn't a function of Big Data. It's a function of corruption – of life in a world in which real conspiracies (to steal your wages, or let rich people escape the consequences of their crimes, or sacrifice your safety to protect large firms' profits) are everywhere.

Progressives – which is to say, the coalition of liberals and leftists, in which liberals are the senior partners and spokespeople who control the Overton Window – used to identify and decry these conspiracies. But as right wing "populists" declared their opposition to these conspiracies – when Trump damned free trade and the mainstream media as tools of the ruling class – progressives leaned into schismogenesis and declared their vocal support for these old enemies of progress.

This is the crux of Naomi Klein's brilliant 2023 book Doppelganger: that as the progressive coalition started supporting these unworthy and broken institutions, the right spun up "mirror world" versions of their critique, distorted versions that focus on scapegoating vulnerable groups rather than fighting unworthy institutions:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

This is a long tradition in politics: hundreds of years ago, some leftists branded antisemitism "the socialism of fools." Rather than condemning the system's embrace of the finance sector and its wealthy beneficiaries, anti-semites blame a disfavored group of people – people who are just as likely as anyone to suffer under the system:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antisemitism_is_the_socialism_of_fools

It's an ugly, shallow, cartoon version of socialism's measured and comprehensive analysis of how the class system actually works and why it's so harmful to everyone except a tiny elite. Literally cartoonish: the shadow-world version of socialism co-opts and simplifies the iconography of class struggle. And schismogenesis – "if the right likes this, I don't" – sends "progressive" scolds after anyone who dares to criticize finance as the crux of our world's problems as popularizing "antisemetic dog-whistles."

This is the problem with "horseshoe theory" – the idea that the far right and the far left bend all the way around to meet each other:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/26/horsehoe-crab/#substantive-disagreement

When the right criticizes pharma companies, they tell us to "do our own research" (e.g. ignore the systemic problems of people being forced to work under dangerous conditions during a pandemic while individually assessing conflicting claims about vaccine safety, ideally landing on buying "supplements" from a grifter). When the left criticizes pharma, it's to argue for universal access to medicine and vigorous public oversight of pharma companies. These aren't the same thing:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/25/the-other-shoe-drops/#quid-pro-quo

Long before opportunistic right wing politicians realized they could get mileage out of pointing at the terrifying epistemological crisis of trying to make good choices in an age of institutions that can't be trusted, the left was sounding the alarm. Conspiratorialism – the fracturing of our shared reality – is a serious problem, weakening our ability to respond effectively to endless disasters of the polycrisis.

But by blaming the problem of conspiratorialism on the credulity of believers (rather than the deserved disrepute of the institutions they have lost faith in) we adopt the logic of the right: "conspiratorialism is a problem of individuals believing wrong things," rather than "a system that makes wrong explanations credible – and a schismogenic insistence that these institutions are sound and trustworthy."

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/25/black-boxes/#when-you-know-you-know

Image: Nuclear Regulatory Commission (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/nrcgov/15993154185/

meanwell-packaging.co.uk https://www.flickr.com/photos/195311218@N08/52159853896

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[youve-cath-to-be-kitten-me]

overture (3/3)

Follow-up to coda | Masterlist!

Ava Silva x Sister Beatrice Rating: M Word Count: 17k Multi-Chapter (3/3)

Summary:

overture (n.): in music, an introduction, the orchestral piece that signifies that something is about to begin

It’s funny how quickly things change. 

Almost two years ago, Beatrice Young and Ava Silva were strangers, separated by hundreds of seats and one fateful door. Now, in the mountains of Switzerland, they face an important question together: who is going to propose first?

Snippet:

Beatrice Young smiles as the wheels of the plane hit the runway, rattling both the plane and the woman asleep on her shoulder. 

“What the fu-” Ava startles awake. 

“We’re landing,” Beatrice says, voice laced with humor. (Not skittish and proud.) 

“Mhm,” Ava hums through a yawn. She lifts her head to sit upright, taking a deep breath and blowing the air back out fast and angled high enough to ruffle her bangs. “How long was I out?” 

“An hour or so.” Beatrice says, gently fixing a stray strand of hair that had flipped to the wrong side of Ava’s part. “You slept most of the flight.” 

“Damn,” Ava laughs. “I keep forgetting how close Switzerland is to England.” 

“Close?” Beatrice raises her eyebrows. 

“Listen, Shannon talked Mary and I into taking spring break in California one year, and the flight from JFK to LAX was like five and a half hours, if I remember correctly,” Ava says. “In the states, this is practically nothing.” 

Beatrice hums in understanding. 

“The flight from London to Moscow is four hours,” she muses. “So I suppose I can see why it could be considered close.” 

“Look at me, right as always,” Ava teases, attempting to kick her feet up for emphasis but having not nearly enough room to do so. She puts her feet back down with an impressive amount of dignity. “I love winning.” 

“I wasn’t aware we were in a position to be winning or losing.” 

“That’s cause you aren’t in the winner mindset,” Ava says, tapping her own forehead with one finger. “If you’ve got it up here, then you can get it anywhere you want.” 

Beatrice laughs. 

“Sure.”

The fasten-seatbelt light turns off above their heads, and a wave of clicks from all around them sound as people get out of their seats and gather their belongings. Beatrice stands and opens their overhead compartment, lowering Ava’s tote bag and her backpack into Ava’s lap and her empty seat respectively. 

“Thank you,” Ava smiles up at her, hair staticky and indentations from the creases in Beatrice’s shirt on her cheek. 

Really, it shouldn’t be as charming as it is, but even after all this time, Beatrice revels in how easily she’d bend to and follow Ava's every whim. She reaches and brushes her cheek with the pad of her thumb as she sits back down, like she’s trying to smooth down the marks on her face, but it’s more an excuse to touch her than anything else. 

The rows in front of them slowly begin to clear, until there’s only two rows in front of them left. Ava unfolds her cane beside her, and, once there’s room, they squeeze through the narrow aisle until they hit the jetbridge, where Ava’s wheelchair is waiting. Beatrice eases her tote off of her shoulder as Ava collapses her cane, placing it into her lap when she sits down. 

“Ready?”

Read HERE on AO3!

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

somewhere only we know

—or, herc visits captain fairbairn’s new office.

They walk through the terminal, the same way they once did all those years ago, though now Herc can sometimes be a little unsteady on his feet. It should be difficult to reconcile with the robust captain Linda remembers from the beginning of her career, who had been a bit of a health-nut even before it had been overly trendy, but—everyone who has loved Linda, and she has loved in return, is getting older. Such, she reckons, goes the arc of life.

“All right?” she asks him, who has a hand looped through her arm. He sends her a positively sappy look, and she rolls her eyes. Beside them, a respectful distance away, walk the two other pilots on this long-haul flight. The first officer operating out tows Linda’s flight kit along with hers.

“You’ve come such a long way, my dear,” Herc tells her as they continue down the terminal to their gate. He hasn’t been flying for a little over two years now—he had seen his last student to a multi-engine certification before hanging up his hat and bowing from the flight-school enterprise that Carolyn’s airline had metamorphosed into, the one Arthur had inherited and was currently managing back in Fitton. “You’ve worked so hard.”

“But you are to thank for…a lot of it,” she returns, focusing on guiding him onto the moving walkway ahead of her first officer and relief pilot.

“I’m honored to have been part of your journey, in that case.” He pauses, and Linda looks aside and sees the twinkle in his eye. “Captain Fairbairn.”

She feels her ears grow a little warm, and she ducks her head with a shy smile. It has taken some getting used to, but after moving from short-haul legacy A320 to long-haul A330 and subsequently bidding into one of the inaugural A350 captain positions, she finds that it’s less of a foreign title than when she began at Swiss. It’s just that when Herc calls her Captain, or her dad…those are the only times it makes her blush.

They approach the gate; a gate agent comes up to them. “Good morning, captain. You requested a non-rev seat for a guest today?”

“Yes,” Linda nods aside at the man on her arm, who’s now staring outside the terminal windows at the glistening A350 on stand at the apron, its fuselage narrowing into a daintily pointed nose and its wings gracefully curving up at the tips. She doesn’t blame him—the A350 is objectively a beautiful aircraft. “Hercules Shipwright,” she tells the gate agent, and Herc tears his gaze away from the airplane to acknowledge the agent with a nod.

She can’t wait for him to see inside of her aircraft.

“Wonderful,” the gate agent says. “Welcome, sir,” she says to Herc. “We’ll give you priority boarding, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Herc disengages himself from Linda, and she misses the comforting presence of her friend at her side. “Linda, I’ll find a seat by the window. I’ll see you out there, yeah?”

“See you,” Linda tells him, and leads her flight crew down the jetbridge.

The previous crew has left the plane turned around and ready for them; Linda pops her head into the galleys while her first officer starts preflight checks, greets the flight attendants, and reminds the purser about her guest.

As preboarding approaches, the first officer excuses herself to do the walk-around, and Linda is left alone with her thoughts in the flightdeck.

She peers out of the wide windows, past the six touch-screen LED displays. Though kitted out with more technology than she could ever have dreamed of, the family resemblance is clear in the design philosophy of the flightdeck—it’s very clearly an Airbus, from the fold-out tray tables to the blatant absence of a yoke. There had been a time when she’d thought she might make the switch to Boeing, but when Swiss had decided that the A320s it had taken in the merger with Cal would stay in the fleet, Linda’s future as a true-blue Airbus pilot was cemented.

Not that she’s complaining about it, when some of her happiest memories are framed by an Airbus-designed flightdeck.

Herc, true to his word, has taken a seat by the window of the terminal and is staring out at her with a smile.

Linda gets up, leans over the displays, and holds a hand up to the window in greeting; in return, Herc languidly waves at her. She grinned as he holds up a finger, one minute, and gingerly takes his phone from his pocket to snap a picture. Once finished, he lowers his phone, checks the photograph, and flashes a thumbs-up at her through the terminal window.

A knock at the doorway, and Linda turns to see the redcap peeking inside. “Captain?”

“Yes,” Linda acknowledges, and rises from her seat.

Before long, her first officer has returned, and the boarding time is flashing on the chronometer. Linda feels strangely nervous.

“You okay?” the first officer asks. “You look a little…” she trails off.

Linda shakes her head. “I’m fine, it’s just…” she casts a look out the flightdeck windows. Herc is no longer at his post by the terminal window. Her heart begins to pound.

“He’s…” The first officer ponders a little. “He’s not your dad, right? I forgot. I know you told me earlier.”

“He’s my best friend,” Linda replies automatically. “We haven’t been in a flightdeck together in—years.”

“I see. Well, I’ll just greet passengers outside,” her first officer tells her sympathetically, squeezes outside, then Linda hears her say, “Oh! Welcome onboard, sir.”

“Thank you,” says a voice she would know on any frequency, anywhere in the world, and Linda is immediately at ease. A second later, Herc pokes his head through the door, bracing a hand on the doorway. “Hello there, Captain. May I enter?”

She rises from her seat. “I’m coming, Herc.”

Linda stands at his side once more in the doorway, and he stares all around the A350 flightdeck with an expression of wonder on his face. “Good Lord, Linda, so many screens. How do you manage?”

“You pull the stick for up and push the stick for down,” she replies dead-pan, and Herc lets out a laugh so loud that several flight attendants and boarding passengers look in their direction. “Herc!” she hisses reproachfully.

Still grinning from ear-to-ear, Herc loops an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close to him. “Yes, Linda?” he asks, maddeningly innocent, and she rolls her eyes.

“Come on, let’s sit,” she says, and begins to lead him further into the flightdeck.

“You’re on the wrong side,” he points out, and Linda realizes she’s automatically drifted to the right seat and her first officer’s already-configured chair.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are, Captain Fairbairn,” Herc returns with the patience of a primary school teacher.

“I want you on my left.” She knows she sounds like a child insisting it, though she’s got several strands of silver running through her hair and glasses on her nose, but—she knows also that having Herc on her right in a flightdeck like this is not what she had envisioned when dreaming of bringing him up here. “Please,” she adds, as an afterthought.

He cracks a smile. “How very silly,” he says, and it doesn’t sound patronizing from him—it’s got all the affection she remembers. Yet he sits anyway, situates himself in the captain’s seat next to her, and—

The technology is so different from the ancient A320s of Caledonian, and yet—the flightdeck is so familiar.

Like they never left it.

Herc looks across the console at her with a breathtaking smile, and it’s like he’s de-aged about twenty years—maybe more.

“We should have done this,” he says softly, and despite the smile on his face, his eyes are suspiciously bright. “Even if it had been just once.”

“Done what?”

“Long-haul.” He casts a glance over the screens, the evolution of the same instruments that must have guided him for longer than Linda has existed. “Linda, I’ve half a mind to steal this plane,” he changes the subject.

She laughs at him, knowing that regret and Herc are two things that she’s careful not to let mix too much, and goes along with it. “I’m sure you could figure it out if I set it up on the ground,” she says lightly. “If I weren’t concerned about such things as, you know, keeping my job.”

“True, that is of slight importance.” Herc looks behind him, then curls his left hand around the sidestick lightly. The sight sends a wave of nostalgia through Linda—he could very well have been preparing to lift the nose at V1 on Bristol’s runway. “In any case…” He lets go of the sidestick, turns to Linda, and smiles gently at her. A single tear is tracing the groove of a smile line. “I wouldn’t steal an A350 with anyone else in the flightdeck but you.”

Linda reaches across the flightdeck, brushes the tear away with her thumb, and rests her hand on his face.

He leans into it, still smiling.

[4littlefishies]

The 36th Floor - Raspberry Cream Cake & a Chocolate Eclair

satoru gojo x suguru geto

warnings: unless u count smut as a warning...

wc: 10.8k

previous chapter here

Suguru stands up once the door to the plane is opened, watching as Satoru stands up as well a few rows ahead. Satoru turns around and sneaks a glance at Suguru, although he doesn’t notice, too busy fidgeting with one of the zippers on his bag. Satoru turns back around and Suguru looks back at him once more. He lets out a sigh as he watches him walk off the plane, letting the people in front of him off and then following as well. 

He catches up to Satoru who’s waiting for him at the end of the jetbridge, a soft smile on his face that makes Suguru nearly break right then and there. Suguru wants nothing more than to just talk to him, but he can’t find the words he wants to say. He can’t seem to do anything other than respond with an awkward smile. Please, just say something. Anything. But Satoru doesn’t say anything other than, “I’ll order our ride.” Suguru nods in response as they walk together yet still separately towards the exit. 

Satoru was unable to focus on anything during the flight. He found himself constantly going back to thinking about how he’s going to apologize to Suguru and what he wants to say. He eventually decides to not say anything once they get off of the plane because he knows that Suguru is probably still mad. He feels horrible about the morning and wants nothing more than to apologize properly, but he chooses to wait a little longer, no matter how impossible that task may feel. He completely understands why he’s mad, but he just wants it to be over and for things to go back to normal again.

Satoru, please, just say something. Suguru feels mentally paralyzed by the feeling, unable to say anything as they walk towards the exit of the airport together. The wait for their car is short, but still silent. Satoru scrolls on his phone and Suguru chooses to do the same. They put their bags into the trunk and climb into the backseat, still exchanging not even a glance. Suguru feels a hollow feeling in his chest the entire 30 minute ride to the hotel. He spends most of the time scrolling through his phone to try to distract himself, but he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants to just reach out and touch Satoru. Just something to let him know it’s alright. But he doesn’t do anything; he doesn’t say anything. 

They both say a polite thank you to the driver as they arrive at their hotel, grabbing their bags from the trunk before heading into the lobby, with Satoru leading the way. They walk through the front doors into the minimalist looking hotel lobby. People are littered here and there, but it’s mostly empty as the sound of music softly plays for ambience. 

“I’ll go check us in.” Satoru says, turning back to look at Suguru. He continues up towards the front desk while Suguru takes a seat in one of the yellow modular chairs in the lobby. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down one more time before he’s going to be sharing a room with him. Satoru feels similarly as he talks to the man behind the front desk as he realizes the same thing.

You can take another nap or something once you get in there, you’ll be fine. He scrolls through his phone, checking emails that he’d missed while they were in the air. Satoru comes walking back to Suguru, holding two key cards in between his fingers. He approaches and sticks one hand out to give Suguru his with a soft smile. “Thanks.” He’s finally able to speak, his throat almost feels hoarse from not being used for so long. 

Suguru follows as Satoru makes his way towards the elevator, seemingly having something on his mind as he presses the button to go up. They wait in silence until the door opens and they step inside. Satoru presses the button for the 6th floor and the doors close. The short ascent is silent apart from the sound of the elevator and the sound of their breathing. The door opens and they step out into the hallway, Suguru continuing to follow Satoru as he takes a right down the hallway towards their room. He stops in front of one of the doors, going to tap the key to the door before he hesitates and drops his arm back down to his side. He takes a deep breath and looks down at the ground.

“Satoru?” Suguru is able to croak out before Satoru starts talking. His head tilts, slightly worried about Satoru.

“Suguru, I know I fucked up. I know I did and I’m sorry. I was just-” He turns around to now face Suguru, but he can’t seem to meet his eyes at first. “I just passed out working on the presentation, and I know that’s no excuse and I still should've set the alarm, but I just feel absolutely horrible.” Satoru rambles on, an almost pained look on his face as he finally meets Suguru’s eyes. Suguru notices that he still has dark circles under his eyes, and he feels a twinge of guilt for even being angry at him in the first place.

He can’t seem to find a response, especially with Satoru’s eyes on him as they stand in the empty hallway. His heart beats fast and his hands clam up as he takes in a breath to say something, but can’t find the words to say. Satoru takes Suguru’s silence as a sign and turns back around to open the door. What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I say anything? He watches as Satoru taps the key card to the door and twists the handle before pushing it open. 

The room is dark as they enter, so they slip their shoes off and Satoru flips on the lights before stepping further into the room. Suguru follows behind, stepping inside and letting the door close behind him. Satoru is stood there staring completely still when Suguru finally notices what he’s looking at; there’s only one bed in the room accompanied by a chair and a small table and desk. 

“Uhhhh…” Satoru lets out, still staring at the single king bed. “What the hell?” He asks as Suguru continues staring into the room, confused as to why there’s only one bed.

“I’ll go back down.” Suguru says curtly before rushing to turn around and head back out the door, his heart beating hard in his chest. He looks down at the ground, trying to quickly get out of the room before he has a heart attack. 

“Hey!” Satoru calls out as Suguru’s hand hits the door handle. He stops and turns back around, looking at Satoru, his eyebrows furrowed. Satoru sets his bag down on the desk chair and stands there facing Suguru. “What’s up with you?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at Suguru who widens his eyes back at him. 

“What do you mean?” Suguru spits out, not meaning for it to sound as bad as it does.

“You’re being all-” He shakes his head, searching for the right words. “- Distant and weird.” He finishes.

“Sorry, you’re just-” The words come out of his mouth before he can even filter them. “You’re pissing me off, Satoru.” He spits out, sounding frustrated again as he did this morning. 

Satoru raises his eyebrows and takes a step back in surprise at the words that come out of Suguru’s mouth at him. 

“I just-” He stops again, this time thinking about his words before he says them, knowing that he can seriously mess things up. “I don’t… Know that I can be friends with you anymore, Satoru.” He says, his heart beating hard in his chest, feeling like it’s going to explode. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Suguru?” Satoru spits back, a sour look on his face. The way he says his name makes Suguru immediately feel sick to his stomach and his legs feel numb. He never wants to hear him say his name like that again. 

Fuck, I’m fucking this all up, bad. He drops his bag on the floor with a huff, needing it off of his shoulder immediately.

“So what are you saying?” Satoru continues on, a pained look on his face.

“I don’t want to be just friends anymore, Satoru, do I have to spell it out for you?” Suguru says, nervously laughing and shaking his head, much more annoyed with himself than he is with Satoru anymore. 

Satoru’s blood runs cold when the words leave Suguru’s mouth. He’s paralyzed, unable to do anything but breathe and blink. His mouth sits slightly ajar, his eyes focused directly on Suguru’s face. He can see Satoru’s eyes start to get misty and he feels his stomach flip just seeing the way his face drops. He stands there for a moment longer before he decides to just speak what he wants and not hold anything back. 

“Satoru,” He starts, taking a shaky breath before he continues, knowing that this could make or break their entire friendship; their entire relationship. “You drive me absolutely crazy. I can't look at you, I can’t listen to you talk, hell, I can’t even think about you without also thinking about how much I want you, Satoru. How much I need you.” He takes slow steps forward as he says it. Satoru stands still frozen in his place, not having any idea what’s going on. He can’t seem to do anything other than just look at Suguru, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Suguru looks at him, heart still beating out of control, before continuing speaking and getting closer. “I can’t keep being just friends, Satoru.” He says, shaking his head and taking in another shaky breath, now the closest the two’s faces had ever been. 

The two make eye contact before Suguru’s eyes flicker down to Satoru’s pink lips and back up to his eyes. “Tell me to stop, Satoru.” Suguru says, leaning in closer, cupping both of his hands gently underneath Satoru’s jaw. “Tell me, Satoru. Tell me to stop, and I will.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t want to be friends anymore, Satoru, do I have to spell it out for you?” Suguru says. The moment it leaves his mouth, Satoru swears his blood freezes inside his veins and his heart immediately starts to ache in his chest. 

What the fuck? No, no, this isn’t happening. Satoru can’t do anything but just stare back at Suguru, waiting for him to say something, for him to say anything. His breath is hitched in his throat as he feels his eyes start to water. You can not fucking cry right now, get it together. Suguru says his name, a longing look on his face. Satoru can’t do anything but breathe and blink his watery eyes. 

“You drive me absolutely crazy. I can't look at you, I can’t listen to you talk, hell, I can’t even think about you without also thinking about how much I want you, Satoru. How much I need you.” Satoru’s heart is beating so hard in his chest he’s scared it might just stop. What? Suguru has slowly moved closer, but Satoru remains unmoved. He can’t do anything but stand and listen. That can’t be what he means. His breaths become quicker, unsure of what’s actually happening. 

 “I can’t keep being just friends, Satoru.” Suguru says, taking in a shaky breath, now the closest their faces had ever been. Satoru swallows thickly as Suguru brings his hands up to cup underneath his jaw. His hands are warm against his skin, it feels like his touch will leave a mark forever; he wishes that it would. He sees Suguru’s eyes look quickly down to his lips before they return to his eyes. His own eyes flick down to sneak a peek at Suguru’s lips before he speaks again.

“Tell me to stop, Satoru.” Suguru says, leaning in closer, cupping both of his hands gently underneath Satoru’s jaw, his thumbs resting on his cheeks. “Tell me, Satoru. Tell me to stop, and I will.” Suguru begs Satoru to tell him to stop, but Satoru wants absolutely nothing less than that. Just fucking do it already, Satoru begs internally, taking a shaky breath. The seconds it takes for their lips to meet feels like an eternity. He lets his eyes fall shut as he lets himself become engrossed in Suguru’s lips. 

He knows it’s cliche, but Satoru swears that he feels sparks. Suguru pulls back after just a moment, resting his forehead against Satoru’s as they both breathe deeply, looking into each other’s eyes. Come back. Satoru grabs at the sides of Suguru’s jacket, pulling him back in for a second kiss, this one being much needier. Suguru holds Satoru’s face in his hands like he never plans on letting go. Satoru holds Suguru’s jacket in his fists, never wanting to let go because he’s scared it’ll end. His body is on fire beneath his clothes, his cheeks and nose flushed from the excitement.

This has to be a dream. Their lips work together slowly, like they’re trying to commit every wrinkle and curve to memory. Suguru moves a hand to the back of Satoru’s head, brushing his fingers through the back of his hair, earning a sigh from Satoru into his mouth at the feel. Satoru swipes his tongue lightly at Suguru’s lip just before he pulls away. Please don’t go. Suguru drops his arms back to his sides.

Suguru stands just far enough from Satoru that he can look at his whole face for a moment before wrapping his arms around Satoru, tucking his head into the space between his shoulder and head. “Satoru, I’m sorry.” He says. Satoru immediately wraps his arms around Suguru, wanting nothing more than to just hold him back. 

“Suguru-” He starts, but gets cut off, feeling Suguru holding onto him tighter.

“No, I- I should've just talked to you.” Suguru’s body is hot against his, his strong arms wrapped around Satoru’s shoulders. “I don’t ever want to make you feel like that again, I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again.”

“Suguru!” Satoru says, trying to get him to stop his nervous rambling. Suguru lets go as Satoru places his hands on his shoulders. They look into each other’s eyes for a moment before Satoru continues. “You have nothing to apologize for. See?” Satoru flashes him a big smile, his cheeks still pink from moments earlier. Suguru laughs lightly at the gesture, letting their foreheads rest together once again. Satoru can’t wait any longer and reconnects their lips for a third time, now letting his hand find its way behind Suguru’s neck, holding him close. 

“Is this real?” Suguru whispers up against Satoru’s lips as he pulls away for just a second. Satoru smiles against his lips, not wanting to pull away. Satoru’s smile is contagious and the two of them pull away, unable to stop smiling. 

Satoru keeps his hand positioned at the back of Suguru’s neck, letting his thumb move slowly back and forth just underneath his earlobe and behind his jaw. Suguru closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, letting out a shaky breath as Satoru presses soft kisses along his now very open neck. 

“You tell me.” Satoru whispers into Suguru’s ear before going back to peppering his neck with soft wet kisses. Suguru brings his head back and looks at Satoru for a moment, admiring his flushed face and sparkly blue eyes before pulling him back in, still needy for his lips. Satoru lets out a breathy moan into Suguru’s mouth at the way he pulls him back in for another kiss, seeming like he’s never wanted anything more. One of his hands rests on Satoru’s hip, so he pulls him back so that he can sit on the edge of the bed.

Satoru leans down with him, not wanting his lips to disconnect from Suguru’s. He stands between Suguru’s wide open legs, feeling his hands grabbing up and down his back as their mouths work together. Satoru feels Suguru trying to pull him on top of him, so he complies and puts his knees down on the bed on either side of his hips. Suguru groans lowly into Satoru’s mouth as he sits down on his quickly hardening dick. 

“Fuck, Satoru.” He breathes out as Satoru moves down to kiss his neck and jaw again. Satoru smiles into his neck, unable to believe that this is actually happening. 

“Do you want me to make it all up to you?” Satoru whispers into Suguru’s ear, tickling it softly with his breath, causing goosebumps to form on Suguru’s arms. He lets out a shaky breath as Satoru snakes his hand down in between them. 

He starts slowly palming Suguru through his pants, causing him to drop his head back once again, letting out a breathy, “Hah,” as he feels the pressure from Satoru’s hand. Satoru looks down at Suguru, his lips slightly apart as he looks at the man underneath him. “Ye-s. Please Satoru.” He lets out, sending a shiver down Satoru’s spine before he stands and quickly takes off his jacket, throwing it to the side with a smile. Suguru laughs lightly at the action and starts undoing his pants, but Satoru puts out his hand to stop him, giving him one more quick kiss as he does it. Suguru is left with a smile on his face as he leans back onto his elbows, watching as Satoru undoes his pants. He takes the hair tie from his hair and shakes it out at the same time.

He lifts up his hips just enough for Satoru to wiggle them past and down to his feet, kicking them off onto the floor before scooting further up onto the bed, ready to lay his head down in between the white fluffy pillows. Satoru stares as he pulls his sweater off and over his head with one swift movement, leaving him lying there in just his underwear, tattoos and everything visible. He can’t help but admire the beautiful body of the man laying in front of him. “You are gorgeous.” Satoru says as he kneels down at the end of the bed, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside as well. A blush makes its way over Suguru’s cheeks at the compliment from Satoru. Satoru’s eyes are full of lust as he looks at him.

“You’re one to talk.” He replies, returning the look as Satoru crawls in between his legs on all fours. Suguru breathes in a sharp breath as he feels Satoru’s warm breath before his lips are pressed up against his inner thighs, the skin feeling more sensitive than normal. Satoru kisses his way up Suguru’s thighs slowly before making it to his underwear. He kisses the already sensitive tip through the fabric, causing a groan to come out of Suguru. Satoru smiles to himself before he hooks his fingers into the waistband before pulling down, slowly revealing Suguru’s fully hardened dick. He can’t help but stare at it for a moment, eyes wide, mouth practically watering at the sight. Holy shit.

“You’re sure about this?” Satoru asks as he looks back up at Suguru, wanting to make sure he isn’t just somehow somehow wildly misunderstanding the situation.

Suguru chuckles softly at the question, slightly relieving some of Satoru’s nerves. He sits up from where he lays in the pillows and brings a hand up underneath Satoru’s chin, bringing his lips up to meet him. The needy way he kisses Satoru before laying back down is more than enough to convince Satoru, but he explains anyway.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, probably, ever.” He says, looking down at Satoru between his legs as he brings one hand up to rest behind his neck. Satoru can’t hide the giant smile that grows on his face as he hears the words out of Suguru’s mouth. I can’t fucking believe this is actually real. He starts back at the bottom of Suguru’s thighs, slowly kissing up them as his hands roam up the outside of his muscular legs.

“Stop doing that.” Suguru says shortly, already tired of Satoru’s teasing. Satoru looks up at him with a smirk on his face, his hand dangerously close to Suguru’s dick now. Admittedly, he’s slightly nervous, although mostly excited out of his mind, a little nervous. 

“Doing what?” Satoru teases. “Do I need to remind you who’s in charge here?” He asks, a smirk still on his face as he looks up at Suguru, raising his eyebrows at him. 

“I’d love to hear who you think it is, because it definitely isn’t you.” Suguru retorts, sitting up on his elbows and looking down at Satoru, one eyebrow raised at him. Satoru smiles, a bright red blush making its way onto his cheeks as he holds his bottom lip in between his teeth. Suguru gives one nod and lays his head back in the pillows, his bangs falling to the side, not expecting Satoru to actually listen. 

“I’ll do anything you ask me to.” Satoru says with a smirk. He wraps his hand around the base of Suguru’s fully hardened dick, holding it tightly in his hand while he pumps it up and down a couple times slowly. His movements earn a sigh from Suguru as he finally feels Satoru’s hands on him. 

Satoru watches as Suguru lays there with his eyes closed, already looking like he’s feeling overstimulated. Satoru smirks as he looks down at the precum leaking out of his swollen tip before swiftly swiping his tongue across, earning a sharp inhale from Suguru. He lets his warm breath ghost over Suguru’s skin, smiling to himself at his reactions. He gives a lick around the tip before he wraps his lips lightly around it and moves down, holding himself up with his hand on Suguru’s hip. 

“Ah, fuck.” Suguru says, his hips already twitching from the warm feeling of Satoru’s mouth surrounding him. He brings his chin to his chest to look down at Satoru who stares up at him, his white eyelashes fluttering as he blinks softly, staring sweetly up at Suguru. He can’t help but smile at the sight of Satoru with his warm mouth wrapped around his throbbing length. He lets out another breathy moan as Satoru’s mouth works slowly up and down, sending shivers throughout his entire body. “You have no idea how long I’ve- ah- how long I’ve- waited for this.” He’s barely able to get out as Satoru keeps up his pace.

Satoru pulls off, his lips shiny with saliva, and flashes Suguru a smile as he keeps up the pace with his hand, squeezing his hand slightly tighter as he reaches the tip and loser and he moves back down. “I have a pretty good idea of how long.” He smiles as he watches Suguru twitch and squirm underneath his touch. “I thought you were the one in charge here?” Satoru decides to tease, causing Suguru to look back down at him, one of his eyebrows cocked as a smirk grows on his face. 

“You sure you wanna keep talking to me like that?” Suguru asks, giving Satoru one last chance before he takes over. Of course, Satoru smiles and gives Suguru a wink as he sticks out his tongue to lick a thick stripe along the bottom of his dick from the base to the tip, earning a broken moan from Suguru.

“I dunno,” Satoru starts, a smile still on his face at the effect he’s having on Suguru as his hand continues steadily moving. “It’s really hot the way you’re acting, I think I might have to keep talking to you like that.” Satoru says, continuing to tease Suguru, moving his hand up and down his length even slower. Suguru’s hips twitch upwards, needing more friction. 

“Well you said you were gonna make it all up to me, remember? I think you should get to that part now and stop acting like a brat.” He says, rolling his eyes and laying his head back down in the pillow, gasping as soon as he feels Satoru’s mouth wrap around his dick once again. This time, he takes his entire length into his mouth, only stopping when his nose tickles the neatly trimmed hairs that lead up to just below his belly button, slightly fading out the higher they went. Suguru inhales sharply as he feels the sensitive tip of his dick hit the back of Satoru’s warm throat. “F-fuck, Satoru, holy shi-hi-it.” He gets out as Satoru keeps up the pace, taking all of Suguru into his mouth with what seems like ease. Suguru’s legs bend and he plants his feet into the mattress. Satoru wraps his arms underneath his legs to hold onto and looks up at him. They lock eyes as Suguru looks down, seeing that Satoru’s eyes are brimmed with tears, saliva all around his mouth and dripping down his chin as he continues taking all of Suguru in. “You look so good with your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.”

Holy fuck. Satoru thinks to himself, now fully laying down on his stomach, grinding his hips into the mattress to try to feel any kind of relief to the hardness in his own pants. Suguru’s hands find their way into Satoru’s hair, the pads of his fingers digging into his scalp. He guides his head up and down, going crazy over the feeling of Satoru’s tongue as it drags up and down the bottom of his length. It leaves a pool of saliva trailing down his balls which Satoru quickly decides to massage with one of his hands, noticing that Suguru seems to be getting closer. Suguru’s hands grip tightly around his white locks, causing him to moan around his dick, the vibrations around him causing him to let out another breathy moan before asking Satoru a question.

“Are you gonna be good and - hah, fuck - and swallow it all for me, baby?” Suguru asks, barely unable to contain himself. Satoru’s eyes widen at the pet name and he hums in agreement, willing to do anything he asks at this point, his mouth still full of Suguru. Suguru’s hips reflexively buck up, causing him to hit the back of Satoru’s throat once again. “Ah- You’re doing so good for me baby.” He says, feeling his climax nearing. Satoru continues, having no problem letting him use his throat and wanting Suguru to enjoy this as much as he is.

Suguru lets out a groan, gripping onto Satoru’s hair tighter now as he’s about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, toru- ‘m g’nna cum.” Suguru manages to get out just before Satoru feels him twitch in his mouth followed by the feeling of Suguru’s cum spurting into his mouth and down his throat. Satoru makes sure to swallow it all, coming off of Suguru’s dick with his tongue out, showing him that it was all gone. 

With an amazed smile on his face, Suguru pulls Satoru up on top of him, grabbing his chin as he pulls him in for a deep kiss, immediately letting his tongue wander around Satoru’s mouth gently, still able to taste himself. Satoru smiles into the kiss, his lips slick with saliva and cum and swollen from so much use. Suguru takes Satoru’s bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling gently on it, earning a soft chuckle from Satoru. Suguru lets go and Satoru rests their foreheads together for a moment as they breathe, not wanting to say anything to ruin the moment. 

After a couple more deep breaths, Satoru lays down on top of him, the two of their chests now pressed together, both breathing heavily. Satoru can feel Suguru’s heart pounding beneath his head. Suguru looks down at the man lying on his chest, unable to believe what just happened, but knowing that he doesn’t want it to end. “Do you wanna take a shower?” Suguru asks warmly, finally breaking the silence between the two.

“So you don’t want to get a different room?” Satoru asks, looking up at Suguru, an amused look in his eyes. 

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head in response, Suguru can’t help but smile. “Screw the fucking room, toru, come on, let’s shower.” Satoru’s heart skips a beat hearing the nickname come out of his mouth again. He doesn’t waste another second before jumping out of the bed and hurrying towards the bathroom. Suguru smiles to himself, following behind, hearing Satoru already turning on the water. 

He steps into the bathroom, coming up behind Satoru as he looks in the mirror for a moment, his cheeks and face still flushed and his lips bright pink and puffy. Suguru rests his hands on the counter on either side of Satoru, resting his chest up against his back, giving his neck soft kisses from behind. Satoru lets out a soft whine at the feeling and turns around to face him, still being pinned against the counter. He smirks before pressing his lips to Suguru’s again, their lips are slick up against each other. Suguru softly nips at Satoru’s bottom lip before his tongue finds his way into his mouth. Satoru moans into his mouth, earning a smile from Suguru that he can feel up against his lips. 

Suguru takes one of his hands and palms at the hardness between Satoru’s legs, earning a soft moan from his mouth. “Ah-” Suguru takes the opportunity to attach himself back onto his neck, massaging Satoru’s length still contained in his pants. 

“Why don’t we get these off, yeah?” He asks, moving his hand, but only to undo Satoru’s pants before slowly slipping his hand underneath the waistband of his underwear, now taking him in his hand. 

“Fuck, Suguru.” Satoru breathes out as he feels the hand around his dick. He pushes his pants off and steps out of them, the two of them now fully undressed. Suguru lets go, and turns around to open the shower door, the bathroom starting to get steamy from the water that’s heated up. Satoru swallows thickly as he watches Suguru turn around, tattoos decorating his chest and shoulders, his muscles perfectly defined, his hair flowing perfectly down his back. Following right behind him, they both step into the shower and close the door behind them. 

Satoru watches intently as Suguru lets the water fall over his head and hair, making it stick to his skin in a way that makes him smile. Suguru runs his hands over his face before he steps out of the way and lets Satoru stand under the water. “I was enjoying just watching.” Satoru says with a smirk, running his hands through his hair as the water runs through it, washing off all the bad feelings from the morning and only keeping what’s happening right now. Suguru smiles at him, wiping the excess water from his face as he watches Satoru under the water, unable to keep his hands off of him now. He reaches forward and grabs Satoru’s face before bringing their lips back together, not paying any attention to the water still running down his face and over his lips. This kiss is much more aggressive than the one just outside the shower. Satoru’s hands snake around Suguru’s waist, holding him tight as their mouths work quickly together, unable to get enough of each other. 

After a couple moments and a couple more moans into Suguru’s mouth, Suguru brings his hands back down to Satoru’s dick, earning a groan as his fingers wrap around it firmly and slowly start to move. He looks directly into Satoru’s half closed eyes as he’s nearly unable to stand in anticipation. “Do you want me to keep going?” Suguru asks sweetly, although there’s a teasing undertone to it. Satoru lets out a sigh, feeling Suguru’s hand come to a stop. He nods his head in response, a small pout on his lips. “I know you can use your words, toru.” He starts softly and then whispers into his ear. “Tell me what you want.” The nickname along with his demands nearly has Satoru reeling. 

“Please, Suguru.” He pants. His eyes fall closed as he lets his head fall back, breathing heavily. The sounds of the water hitting their bare skin fill the few seconds of silence before Suguru answers. 

“Oh come on, I know you can do better than that, baby.” Suguru says, moving his hands painfully slowly up and then back down Satoru’s throbbing dick.

“Please, Suguru. Please keep going.” He begs, his eyebrows raised. Suguru smirks, loving how Satoru is like putty in his hands. 

“That’s better.” Suguru says with a smirk, finally starting to move his hand at a reasonable pace. Satoru’s mouth falls open, but no sound comes out other than shaky breaths as Suguru continues. He starts peppering kisses over Satoru’s chest and neck as he keeps going, hearing his breathing becoming quicker.

“Sugu-” He starts out, unable to even finish his name. Holy fuck. He lets his arm come up to support himself as he leans against the wall, his legs starting to feel like jelly underneath him. 

“Yeah baby?” Suguru responds sweetly, wanting Satoru to keep going. He brushes his thumb over his sensitive tip, earning a hiss from Satoru’s mouth that turned into a moan, putting a smile on Suguru’s face as the sounds echoed off of the bathroom walls. 

“it jus’- feels so good,” he’s able to cry out softly. Suguru lets out a soft chuckle before going back to kiss Satoru’s neck and shoulders as he stands behind him. Suguru smiles into his neck before speaking softly into his ear, the smile audible in his voice.

“I know, and you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Satoru lets out a whimper as he says it, both from the praise as well as the grip Suguru has on him. As if they’d done this a hundred times, Suguru seems to know exactly how to drive him crazy. Satoru remains resting against the wall, unsure if he’d be able to stand without collapsing. He feels Suguru’s dick pressed against his ass and lets his hips move back, almost uncontrollably. Suguru lets out a groan at the sudden pressure until he backs away slightly.

“Not yet baby, it’s your turn right now.” Suguru says, slightly picking up his pace, causing Satoru’s legs to twitch underneath him. He notices and flips Satoru around to face him. “Use me,” He says, looking into Satoru’s glossy blue eyes, tiny droplets of water sitting at the tips of his eyelashes. “I won’t drop you.” He finishes, putting a smile on Satoru’s face, remembering back to the first time he’d touched himself in the shower to the thought of Suguru. Suguru notices the smile, but doesn’t decide to ask, knowing that he’s close.

Satoru feels the pressure steadily building, a knot deep in his stomach that’s about to come undone. His hip movements become more erratic as Suguru’s hand moves at a fast pace, keeping a firm grip. Satoru feels like he’s going to nearly pass out at the feeling of his warm hand wrapped around his dick, touching him in ways he’s only ever imagined. He can’t help but smile as he lets out a broken whine, letting his eyes close and head fall back. “Suguru,” He whines out, gripping onto his bicep for stability. Suguru grabs onto Satoru with his free arm, holding him tightly, knowing he’s about to climax. “’m- ngh- cumminggh.” Satoru whines out, letting his legs go limp underneath him as Suguru holds him up, continuing stroking through Satoru’s orgasm.

Suguru watches with a big smile on his face as he comes undone underneath his touch. “That’s it, baby, there you go.” He says quietly as Satoru’s cries fill the steamy bathroom. Hearing the praise as he cums makes Satoru go absolutely crazy. He grips tightly onto Suguru’s arm, finally loosening his grip once his orgasm has passed. The two of them stand under the hot water, Suguru’s arms wrapped around Satoru as they both breathe heavily, their wet skin pressed up against each other. 

Satoru can’t do anything other than smile as he looks into Suguru’s eyes. I can’t believe this is real. He watches as the droplets of water fall over Suguru’s shoulders before they run down over his tattoos. “I do really like your tattoos, Suguru.” Satoru points out, running a finger over one of the dragons that covers his shoulder. Suguru bursts out laughing, Satoru joining in, his cheeks red as they stand there laughing together in the shower.

“I really like you, Satoru.” Suguru says, shaking his head and grabbing Satoru’s face, pulling him in for another quick kiss. They both feel their faces get hot, still feeling nervous despite having just done what they’ve done. 

The sounds of the water continuing to fall and flow down the drain is all Suguru hears for a moment before Satoru speaks up again, looking into his eyes. “And I really like you, Suguru.” He says, poking Suguru in the chest with one of his long skinny fingers. The two of them giggle uncontrollably as they stand against each other, unable to stop peppering kisses all over the other’s face.

Once they’re able to finally separate from each other's lips for more than a couple seconds, Suguru washes his hair while Satoru watches, unable to stop looking at him. “Your hair is beautiful.” Satoru says, watching as Suguru massages his fingers around his scalp. Satoru brings his hands up to take their place, carefully rubbing the pads of his fingers into Suguru’s scalp. Suguru lets out a satisfied sigh, feeling Satoru’s fingers massaging his scalp. He lets his arms fall back down to his sides and leans his head back, letting Satoru get a better reach. 

“Your hair is beautiful.” Suguru responds, a smile on his face. Satoru lets his hands fall from Suguru’s hair, signaling him to turn around and let the water run over him to rinse it all out. Satoru washes his own hair for a moment before Suguru’s fingers are in his hair, returning the favor. Satoru scrunches his nose with a smile, looking at Suguru’s face as droplets of water run down his rosy skin. They switch places and Satoru rinses the shampoo from his hair, Suguru watching as his head tilts back and his eyes close. He reaches forward and leaves a quick kiss on the side of Satoru’s neck while he isn’t watching. 

“Ah!” Satoru yelps out, not expecting the touch on his neck. Suguru lets out a laugh as Satoru jumps. “Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?” He asks, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head. Suguru simply nods his head and finds himself being splashed in the face with water. He smiles with his eyes closed as Satoru flicks water into his face, now just trying to be obnoxious. 

“Should we go out for dinner?” Suguru asks, trying to ignore Satoru as he splashes water in his face. Satoru feels his heart speed up in his chest, stopping splashing at the question.

He takes a breath to respond before stopping to think for a split second. “Would this be like a-” Satoru trails off, moving his hands as he pretends to look for the right word. “Date?” He finishes his sentence and Suguru raises an eyebrow at the question. 

“Would it be okay if it was?” Suguru asks, grabbing the body wash and getting some in his hand before starting on his chest. With a smile, Satoru puts his hands onto Suguru’s chest, gently taking over and washing his body.

“I think it would be more than okay.” Satoru says, feeling Suguru’s warm soapy skin underneath his touch. Suguru grabs the body wash and gets more in his hand, sudsing it up slightly before mirroring Satoru’s movements and washing his body just as he did his. He smiles at Satoru's answer, almost overwhelmed with happiness. Satoru turns around for Suguru to get his back and Suguru lifts his hands up to Satoru’s shoulders, slowly digging his fingers into the muscles, trying to rid him of any tension. Satoru lets out a sigh, letting him know he’s massaging the right spots. He continues for a minute until Satoru turns back around, his eyes half closed and very obviously relaxed. 

He wraps his arms around Suguru’s shoulders, just hugging him for a moment, feeling their warm wet skin pressed up against each other, still trying to believe that it’s all real. They stay like this in silence for a moment before Satoru pulls away and looks at Suguru, a smile on his face. Suguru reaches past Satoru to twist off the shower, making sure to kiss one of his dimples as he passes by. He opens the shower door and they both grab towels. “Your dimples are cute.” Suguru says, wrapping the towel around his waist as he steps out of the shower. Satoru’s cheeks get warm at the compliment.

“You said that when you were drunk during New Years.” Satoru says with a cheeky smile. Suguru’s eyes widen and his eyebrows raise, surprised to hear this.

“Really?” He asks, grabbing another towel to wrap up his hair. Satoru has a smug look on his face as he remembers it clearly. 

“It was right before you fell asleep in my bed.” Satoru teases, grabbing a towel to quickly run through his hair. Suguru’s cheeks turn a light pink as he smiles at Satoru in the mirror as he rubs the towel through his damp hair. “Which I hope you’ll return to sometime soon.” Satoru says, getting slightly quieter as he says it, his cheeks also turning pink. 

“Don’t worry, I was planning on doing it again.” Suguru teases, making Satoru feel a little less nervous. 

The two of them finish their after shower routines and get dressed, ready to head out and find something to eat for dinner. Suguru wears simple black pants with a dark olive colored collared sweater with his hair all up in a bun. Satoru decides on a black turtleneck with blue jeans and a dark brown bomber jacket on top. 

“Ijichi was super nice and gave me a list of restaurants in and around this area.” Suguru says as they’re pulling on their shoes, ready to head out. 

“Why wouldn’t he give it to me?” Satoru asks, pouting. Suguru smiles and shakes his head, pulling out his phone to look at the list. Satoru watches over his shoulder as he scrolls through the extensive list on his phone. “I wanna go to that bakery!” Satoru shouts suddenly, making Suguru jump slightly.

“Satoru, we need real dinner first.” Suguru says, trying to be the voice of reason. He pouts and crosses his arms upon hearing that before Suguru continues, ignoring Satoru’s fake tantrum. “How about we go here?” He suggests, pointing out a restaurant just a couple blocks from the bakery. Satoru smiles, looking up at Suguru, a full feeling in his chest. He nods his head before they grab their wallets and Satoru grabs his phone and they head out the front door. “We can take the train, it shouldn’t be too far.” Suguru says, turning over his shoulder to look at Satoru as he catches up to him.

They make it to the elevator and Satoru stands with his hands in his pockets as it feels almost impossible to not be all over Suguru now. The doors open and they step into the empty elevator. Satoru presses the button for the lobby and as soon as the doors are closed, he’s grabbing onto Suguru’s face and scattering kisses all over his cheeks before giving one last kiss to his lips, now tight in a smile. He laughs as Satoru’s lips tickle his skin while the elevator descends towards the first floor. By the time the doors open, Satoru is back standing away from Suguru like he wasn’t just attacking his face with kisses. 

“I’m following you.” Satoru says, looking to Suguru who has the map pulled up on his phone. They walk to the nearest station, smiles on both of their faces as they take in the scenery of the city together. Satoru finds himself wanting to reach for Suguru’s hand, but he has them in his pockets. He knows he could just ask, but chooses not to, just happy to be there with Suguru.

Their long legs carry them quickly down the stairs into the train station that’s busy with people coming and going to work, home, school, anywhere one might be heading on a Friday afternoon. Once at the platform, they sit down on an empty bench while they wait for their train to come. Suguru rests his arm along the back of the bench and Satoru fits his body perfectly in the spot next to him. He rests his head down on Suguru’s shoulder and feels his arm rest along his own shoulder. Satoru can’t do anything but smile as he sits there with Suguru’s arm around him. This is it. He takes in the feeling as if it’s never going to happen again.

The next train pulls into the station and Suguru promptly stands up, leaving Satoru sitting on the bench as the doors open. “Satoru, come on!” Suguru shouts, grabbing Satoru’s hand and pulling him up off the bench and towards the train doors. He can’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his hand in Suguru’s. They make it onto the train and take a seat in one of the empty rows, Suguru still holding onto Satoru’s hands as they sit down. 

Suguru slowly strokes over the back of Satoru’s hand with his thumb, happy to be able to finally do it. He lets go of Satoru’s hand, but doesn’t pull his own away, instead holding his hand flat up to Satoru’s almost as if comparing their hands before spreading his fingers and lacing his together with Satoru’s. His ears feel hot as he looks down at their hands, now laced together before he looks over to Suguru who’s also looking down at their hands. 

“Is this okay?” Suguru asks, looking over to Satoru with his eyebrows just slightly raised and a warm smile on his face.

“It’s perfect.” Sartoru says with a reassuring look. Suguru gives his hand a squeeze that he quickly returns, earning a soft chuckle from each of them before Satoru lays his head down on Suguru’s shoulder, taking in the moment around him. 

“Hey.” Suguru whispers in his ear, causing Satoru to pick up his head and turn to look at him, eyebrows raised in question. “That lady over there.” He gestures towards a young woman with a guitar case and bright pink hair. “I bet she’s in a rock band.” 

Satoru looks back at him with an eyebrow raised. “Is it the hair? Because when I said that you called my idea far-fetched.” Satoru says, crossing his arms dramatically.

“Satoru, you said that the guy was a superhero. I’m saying that she’s in a band, that’s a perfectly reasonable prediction.” Suguru explains, trying to suppress the smile on his face as he watches Satoru’s face scrunch up. He shakes his head, leaning his head back on Suguru’s shoulder without a word. They sit in silence for the rest of the short ride until Suguru notices that their stop is next.

“This one’s ours.” Suguru says, patting Satoru’s leg as he goes to stand up. Satoru feels tingles down his legs at the feeling of Suguru just openly touching his leg like that. His cheeks flush at the gesture as he stands up, before lacing their hands back together. Suguru leads the way once they step off of the train, following the crowd of people leaving the station towards the street. They walk hand in hand the few blocks up and over to get to the restaurant they had picked out. 

Once the restaurant comes into view, Satoru lets his hand go and hurries out in front to open the door for Suguru and smiles wide when he hears the shy, “Thank you.” The wait isn’t long and they’re quickly seated towards the back of the restaurant at a small square table. Satoru goes for Chow Mein and Suguru decides on Kung Pao chicken. The two of them sit across the table from each other, quietly for a moment.

“You look lovely.” Suguru says, looking Satoru up and down where he sits. Satoru smiles at him, his heart speeding up in his chest at the compliment. 

“I was gonna say that you look hot, but that sounds so much nicer.” Satoru replies, earning a chuckle from Suguru as his cheeks also turn a light shade of rosy pink. There’s a comfortable silence for a moment before Satoru breaks it once again. “What do you even talk about on a first date when you’ve already been friends for three months?” Satoru asks, trying and succeeding to pull another laugh from Suguru. He smiles at the sound of it. 

“Well, I already know what you do for work.” Suguru says, playing along with Satoru. “I’ve already become best friends with your cat!” He continues, raising his eyebrows dramatically as he says it. 

“I still haven’t even been to your place yet.” Satoru says, scrunching his nose up. 

“Well…” Suguru starts, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat. “If someone would have set an alarm this morning, you would have.” He says, raising his eyebrows at Satoru who looks down at the table like a sad puppy.

“I really am sorry, Suguru.” He says, resting his hands down on the table in front of him, still feeling bad about making them almost miss their flight. Suguru reaches out and rests his hand on top of Satoru’s rubbing the back with his thumb slowly, trying to comfort him.

“Hey,” He says, getting Satoru to look up into his eyes. “It’s okay.” He says, trying his best to reassure him that he wasn’t upset about it anymore. “You were just trying to make the presentation better - which you definitely don’t need to do - and I didn’t need to get as mad as I did.” Satoru flips over his hand and grabs onto Suguru’s, who continues rubbing calming circles with his thumb. 

“There’s a lot of things that I could still fix.” Satoru starts before Suguru cuts him off, shaking his head in disagreement. 

“Satoru, your presentation is far beyond what’s needed. You’re such a perfectionist and you're draining yourself over it. I’ve looked over that thing a hundred times and it’s perfect every time. We’re gonna be okay tomorrow.” He says, continuing to try to comfort Satoru. He lets out a sigh, smiling at Suguru’s words. 

“Really?” Satoru asks, looking up at Suguru while sticking his bottom lip out.

Suguru can’t help but laugh at the face he makes. “Yes! It’s amazing, Satoru. We’re gonna do great.”Satoru smiles to himself, giving Suguru’s hand a light squeeze before feeling one in return. As they’re talking more about their work for tomorrow, the waiter brings over their food. Satoru’s eyes widen at the food in front of him, not realizing how hungry he was until right now. 

He takes the first bite of his Chow Mein and lets out a sigh, impressed with how good it tastes. Suguru smiles, taking the first bite of his food as well. They both eat their whole meals without talking much, both having not eaten hardly anything all day. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” Satoru says when the waiter brings over the check. Satoru pulls out his wallet with a smirk and pulls out the company credit card.

“The company card is hardly you paying.” Suguru teases, chuckling lightly as Satoru pulls out the card from his wallet.

“Well, this is still a business trip, remember?” Satoru says, setting the card down, waiting patiently for the waiter to return. Suguru smiles and shakes his head, resting his elbows on the table. They eventually pay and head back out to the street. “Alright! Bakery time!” Satoru exclaims, excitedly throwing his arms up in the air as they walk out onto the sidewalk. Suguru quickly pulls up the directions on his phone, seeing that it’s only a three minute walk. He grabs onto Satoru’s hand without a second thought and pulls him in the direction of the bakery. Satoru’s heart skips a beat at the gesture, still surprised by even the smallest touches from him. 

They quickly reach the bakery and Suguru opens the door for Satoru this time, earning a shy “Thank you,” from Satoru as he steps inside. The smell immediately fills both their noses, the overwhelming sweet smell taking over more than anything else. Satoru smiles back at Suguru as they make their way up to the counter, looking at all the sweets behind the glass in the display case. Satoru’s mind starts racing, looking at all the possibilities that lie in front of him. 

The man behind the counter smiles politely as he asks what they would like. “Suguru, you go first! I’m still deciding.” Satoru shouts out, bent over closely looking at all the sweets. Suguru smiles and decides on the tiramisu after trying to pick between that and the raspberry cream cake. He looks back over to Satoru once he’s done ordering. “Okay,” Satoru starts out, almost sounding out of breath. “Can I get one of the sunflower cheesecakes, a chocolate eclair, oh! And then also a piece of raspberry cream cake?” Suguru looks over at him with wide eyes. “What?” Satoru asks, smiling wide at Suguru as the man behind the counter gets out everything they ordered. Satoru added the raspberry cream cake because he noticed Suguru looking at it before deciding on tiramisu.

“You’re insane.” Suguru says, shaking his head at Satoru with a smile on his face.

“I’m not eating it all right now! I’m gonna save some for later tonight!” He defends, trying to reason with Suguru.

“You mean you’re still gonna eat all of those today?” Suguru asks, amazed at the tolerance for sweets Satoru has. Satoru nods his head as he hands his card to the man behind the counter who just smiles up at both of them. 

‘Mmhm!”

“Satoru Gojo, that is too much sugar for one day.” He says, sounding like a parent that’s scolding their child. Satoru just shakes his head with a smirk as he grabs the bag from the counter, thanking the employee as they turn to leave. 

“I’m following you.” Satoru says once again, watching as Suguru pulls up the map back to the train station that they got off at. The walk back to the station is uneventful as well as the ride back to the stop near their hotel. The two walk with their hands happily laced together as they make it back to the hotel, tired from traveling during the day and walking to dinner. 

“So I take it we’re fine sleeping in the one bed?” Suguru clarifies as they step into the elevator to head back up to their room. Satoru lets out a soft chuckle at the question. 

“As long as you are.” Satoru says with a wink. Suguru blushes at the sight and feels his stomach do a flip. The elevator doors open and they turn down the hallway before Satoru taps the key to the door and pushes it open. They both step inside and before the door is fully closed, Suguru has Satoru’s face in his hands and is pulling him in for a needy kiss. Satoru lets out a surprised sound into Suguru’s mouth as they come together before leaning into it and kissing him back. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to not do that now.” Suguru says, pulling away. Satoru smiles as Suguru holds onto his face gently, their lips just apart from each other as Suguru holds onto Satoru’s face. “You’re beautiful.” Suguru says, just inches from Satoru’s face. Satoru smiles as he sets the bag of treats down on the desk, focusing on the attention from Suguru at the moment. 

“Do you… Want to?” Satoru asks, slightly trailing off, letting his fingers brush along Suguru's jawline. Suguru smiles at the thought, but sighs, wanting Satoru in every way, but still wanting to wait. 

“Satoru,” He groans out, making Satoru nervous at his silence. “I’ve wanted to fuck you in your bed since new years.” He says, looking to the side as he says it with his ears feeling hot, unable to look Satoru in the eye as he says it. Satoru feels his cheeks turn bright pink as he says it, looking into his eyes with a smirk on his face. His eyes are wide as he looks at Suguru as he sits on the edge of the bed, the sheets messy from earlier. “I don’t really want to do anything until we get home, okay?” Suguru says, raising his eyebrows at Satoru, who nods in response, a sweet smile on his face. 

“What if I wanted to fuck you in my bed?” Satoru asks seriously with one eyebrow cocked as he looks at Suguru, who immediately chuckles in response.

“Yeah, sure.” He says, nodding his head with a smirk on his face. Satoru can do nothing but stand there with his jaw on the floor and a bright pink blush covering his nose, cheeks, and tops of his ears. 

“Hey!” He cries out dramatically before going back to the previous conversation. He’s willing to wait as long as he needs to. “I’ve waited three months, what’s three more days?” Satoru says, a smirk on his face before Suguru pulls him back in for another needy kiss. “Can I still cuddle and kiss you all night though?” Satoru asks, faking a pout as he looks at Suguru with puppy dog eyes.

“I would be hurt if you didn’t.” Suguru says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Good!” Satoru shouts excitedly, throwing his arms around Suguru, causing both of them to laugh at his sudden outburst of energy. He holds onto Suguru like he’s never going to get the opportunity again. “Do you wanna go up to the roof? We can eat our desserts up there!” He suggests, eyeing the bag of treats on the desk. He lets go of Suguru and takes a step back, giving him a chance to answer. 

Nodding his head, Suguru grabs the bag from the desk. “I’m following you.” He says, repeating Satoru from earlier and watching as he rushes towards the door, excited to try the things he picked out at the bakery. Leading the way back to the elevator, Satoru presses the button and the doors open almost immediately. They go up to the 15th floor to head out to the rooftop patio. The sun is most of the way down, making it a little chilly as they step out onto the completely empty patio. Suguru notices one table near what looks to be a heating lamp. He leads the way and Satoru follows closely behind, not questioning him whatsoever.

“This one has a heater.” Suguru says, turning the dial to get it going. He takes the seat on the other side of the table, letting Satoru have the one that’s closer to the heater. He sets the bag down on the table as Satoru sits down across from him, an excited look in his eyes. Satoru quickly pulls out everything, handing Suguru his tiramisu before opening up all of the things he picked out. “You said you weren’t gonna eat them all right now!” 

“But I need to try all of them!” Satoru defends, first going in for a bite of the chocolate eclair. “You can try them too, if you want.” He says, putting the eclair back down. “I’m happy to share with you.” He says, a shy smile on his face.

Suguru looks down at the table with a smile. “Can I try the raspberry cream cake?” He asks quietly, lifting his head back up to look at Satoru who has a beaming smile on his face. Satoru picks up the box with the cake in it and hands it across the table to Suguru. 

“Here!” He says, his mouth already full with another bite of the chocolate eclair. 

“Satoru, I only need one bite.” He says, lightly chuckling at the way he gave it up so easily.

“I saw you eyeing it. I got it for you.” Satoru explains, a smug smile on his face. Suguru just looks at him, his mouth slightly agape as he shakes his head.

“You are unbelievable.” He says, slightly laughing as he goes in for a bite of the cake. He closes his eyes as the taste hits his tongue, it being just as good as he imagined it was when he saw it in the case. He lets out a satisfied sigh, watching as Satoru goes to try his sunflower cheesecake. “Is yours good?” 

Satoru holds out the box to him, trying to get him to grab it. “Try some!” Suguru chuckles lightly at the gesture.

“Satoru, I was asking you if it’s good. You can keep it.” Suguru says, going back to his tiramisu. Satoru smiles as he puts it back down on the table in front of himself. 

“So if that was our first date, does this count as our second date?” Satoru teases, raising his eyebrows across the table at Suguru. 

Suguru takes another bite of his tiramisu before answering his question, trying to think of an answer. Satoru rubs his foot along Suguru’s leg under the table, earning a chuckle from him. “Stop trying to play footsie with me, Satoru.” He flashes a big smile at Suguru, pulling his foot back to his side of the table. “I guess you could call it a second date.” He says, looking as if he was contemplating it very seriously. 

“I mean, your dick was in my mouth, I don’t think it’s necessarily that important at this point.” Satoru says, gesturing one of his hands off to the side as he says it. 

“Satoru!” Suguru shouts out. The both of them chuckle after he says it. “We’re in public.” Suguru says, looking around the patio.

“But there’s no one here! I could say anything right now and you’d be the only one that hears it.” He responds, resting his chin in his palm after closing up the box of his sunflower cheesecake. “I could also do this!” He says before standing up and bending over the table to give Suguru a kiss on the tip of his nose, causing him to laugh and shake his head. 

“You're unbelievable.” Suguru says for the second time with another chuckle as he smiles at Satoru as he sits back down in his seat. He closes up the box to both the tiramisu and the raspberry cake, his cheeks flushed from the quick kiss from Satoru. His eyes flicker over towards the edge of the building, wanting to see what the city down below looks like from up here.

Noticing the quick look, Satoru makes a suggestion. “Wanna go look?” He asks, sweetly. Suguru looks back over at Satoru, a smile on his face at the question. “Then we can go back to the room and get ready for bed so we can cuddle and I can kiss your face all night?” Suguru chuckles at the rest of the question

“You have quite a way with words, Satoru.” Suguru says sarcastically with a smile before pushing back from the table and standing up. He sticks all their leftover sweets back into the bag and heads over towards the edge of the patio to look over the edge down at the street. He looks at all the different colors and signs that line the street as Satoru comes to stand right beside him, leaning his arms on the railing. 

“My view is better.” Satoru immediately says shortly, talking about the view from his apartment back home. 

“Satoru, your apartment is twice as high, of course it’s better.” Suguru says, nudging Satoru in the arm with his elbow as he says it. “And anyways-” He starts, looking over at Satoru with a soft smile on his face and warmth in his eyes. “This view is pretty good.”

Satoru lets out a laugh at the compliment. “Suguruuu,” He draws out, laying his head down on Suguru’s shoulder next to him. “You’re so cliche.” This earns a laugh from both of them as they stare at the view for a little longer before heading back down to the room, not wanting their second date to be over just yet. 

chapter 11

[whumped-by-glitter]

I saw this post about crazy museum stories, and I see lots of retail stories, but I don’t see a lot of airport stories….

So here are some of my craziest stories from working at an airport.

Airport behind the scenes:

• The random passenger who told me to get off the carousel (I was fixing it) then absolutely couldn’t believe I was a female and a mechanic. Then he proceeded to insinuate my military rank before getting out meant I messed up (AF just ranks slower, we had a bit of a bottleneck problem when I was in). He then suggested my supervisor didn’t know how to do his job well and could “just take us all under his wing”. All of this before asking for a job…..

• The passenger who insisted I check him in for his flight that left 2 hrs ago, when I was fixing the ticket counter conveyor belt, all the lights were off and I was literally black up to my elbows in grease….

• The woman who rode up and down the glass elevator in ticketing, lifting her skirt repeatedly, until the sheriffs had to come get her. Bonus points: it was only around noon, and no she wasn’t flying anywhere.

• The woman who got demanded she get on a plane at 11 pm, when flights are no longer going out, with no ID or money, to a city that was literally a 45 min drive away, with no airport. She proceeded to stop pick up traffic with an airport use wheelchair.

• A man who went through an armed door to the ramp, took all of his clothes of and sat there (that one made news).

• A woman who decided to take off all of her clothes and run around the main part of the airport. A sheriff and 2 cleaners had to catch her, she ran through the parking structure at 1am, in January in the northern Midwest.

• The absolutely insane contract manager that almost got sued by Southwest Airlines for wearing disguises and hiding to catch their ticket counter agents putting begs on the belt wrong (they weren’t, also wearing 2 hats and a fake mustache is not inconspicuous sir) that was the talk of the airport for quite a while…

• The gate agent that somehow messed up the jetbridge so bad I had to take every single limit sensor apart so I could override it. When he called it in all I was told was “the wheel locked up and I kept moving it, and I made an ooopsies.”

• The coworker that would insist on wanting to empty the lavs (which is easier than loading bags) but would mess it up at least once every other week and spill on himself, then just look horrified but not move….

• A woman rode an unattended baggage belt, luckily she was read as an oversize bag and sent directly to TSA, she literally could have been killed. She scared the daylights out of some TSA agents though. Could you imagine- you expect a golf club bag or something and get a person popping out?

• The lady who was really scared to fly, got really drunk, and fell down an up escalator. It was Christmas and luckily the gate agents were able to book her on a new flight the next day for free. But when asked if she had someone to pick her up, she called her husband, in Texas… (this is an airport near Chicago) she literally didn’t even know what airport she was at. A sheriff took her to a hotel to let her sleep it off, and to my knowledge she made it out safe the next morning.

I found a cat stuck in a wall, well actually she climbed through the wall and became trapped in a plumbing closet. She is really lucky some Southwest agents heard her crying and called us (they figured since we worked on conveyors and had tons of tools, we might be able to help. We called airport ops to open the closet door, and there she was. I still have her to this day, her name is Delta, and she is a very weird cat, I blame it on the fumes 🤣

All of this and more, and I work at a relatively small airport, and I was only there 5 years, and primarily worked 3rd shift as a mechanic.

@karmaisntab

[blondiest]

frequently see discussion about death note "plot holes" (many of which are notably not actually plot holes but rather things people missed or misunderstood) but one i have not seen discussed is this:

HOW DID SOICHIRO GET DOWN FROM THE PLANE?

actually if someone knows more about planes than me feel free to sincerely answer this but from all my flying experience i have never ever gotten the impression there is an easy way to get down from a commercial jet without a jetbridge or a stairway in place. did he have to hop down. how did his knees survive that.

[vr-tb]

Flight 1811 chapter 2 snip:

“Since when does the airline hire mechanics like her?” their coworker gestures across the tarmac to where Lin is explaining something to her team.

“Back it up man,” Shung warns.

“I just mean she’s hot. I didn’t know a pair of overalls could look so good. What I wouldn’t do to get her to-,” he continues.

“Please stop,” Tenzin glares at him before continuing the walk up the jetbridge. 

“What’s his deal?” Lee frowns at Shung. 

“Leave it alone ,” Shung sighs. 

[whentherewerebicycles]

noooo we’re already delayed an hour and just got word that they have to bring the jetbridge back out to fix some kind of “paperwork discrepancy”

[aestheticvoyage2023]

Day 218a: Sunday August 6, 2023 - "O'ahu"

A clever jetbridge trade with a local FA bought us a day of vacationing with Audrie here in Hawaii after crashing her HNL overnight. We got a morning walk to reset on the fresh ocean air, and to show my parents the famous Waikiki Beach where my Mom wasted no time in joining my Dad and I in the crystal cool Honolulu blue waves just off the shelly shore. It was a nice cleanse. Great way to start the day, and my first taste of salt water. We then rallied out to grocery for my first taste of Poke. As we started on down the road to our first adventure, I hoped the next few days would be filled with many tastes of both.

But first - we'd need to taste that famous Dole Whip! My Mom booked us tickets on the little train tour and we waited our designated hour and 15 minutes to say we rode the Pineapple Express at the Dole Plantation. The real gift there was watching William, mostly from my Dad's shoulders, love every second of every train that rolled in and filled up and rolled off again - -as if waiting in line was the whole game. He was very excited for the train, and waited one more round to sit in the very front seat, as it chugged us along through the pineapple farm. Is it time for ice cream yet? One last little line led us to our pineapple treats that my mom exclaimed as the best ice cream shes ever eaten...and she could be right, especially with that farm fresh pineapple topping. Worth every bit of the train ride.

Song: Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwoʻole - White Sandy Beach of Hawaii

Quote: “I once heard a grouty northern invalid say that a coconut tree might be poetical, possibly it was; but it looked like a feather-duster struck by lightning.” ― Mark Twain, Mark Twain in Hawaii: Roughing It in the Sandwich Islands: Hawaii in the 1860s

[muffinjai]

Alright, folks, prepare for takeoff… of my tiny legs! ✈️ Check me out, strutting my stuff through this fancy tunnel thingy they call a #JetBridge. @yvrairport 🛫 We’re about to magically fly in a giant metal bird! 🤔 My nose is picking up all sorts of interesting smells – jet fuel, nervous humans, and maybe even a hint of international kibble?

Right now, I’m feeling more like a VIP on my way to a top-secret mission… probably involving treats and belly rubs at our final destination. 🌴 Just trying to keep up with my human’s ridiculously long legs in this moving walkway wannabe. 🤞 Wish me luck not tripping over my own paws!

JetBridgeLife #YVR #YVRAirport #TravelDogAdventures #ServiceDogOnDuty #FlyingHigh #SchnauzerOnTheGo #AirportAntics #WhereAreWeGoing #DogTravels #ReadyForTakeoff #PawsportPlease #Vancouver #VancouverDogs #DogsOfVancouver 🇨🇦🐶🐾 #MiniatureSchnauzer #Schnauzer #SchnauzerGang #TravelDog #GayDog

[nawapon17]

Qantas Worker in Coma And Fighting For Her Life After JetBridge Fall at Sydney Airport

[globobro]

#Police, #DEA + #TSA #Collusion #Corruption

Old legal quirk lets police take your money with little reason, critics say

#Travelers with #Cash #BeAware

#TSA alerts #DEA travelers have cash.

#DEA send local #Police to hijack the traveler's cash in the #JetBridge as the traveler boards!!!

[deerkotah]

I work at an airport, and part of my job is brake riding (turning on the plane and setting and releasing the brakes so the plane can be towed somewhere else). I had to wait for someone to pull the jetbridge up to the plane so I could go back down.

My coworker drove the bridge up, opened the door, and asked “are you ready to come out?” And I, with zero hesitation, said “I’m a lesbian!”

My coworker literally fell to the floor, on her hands and knees, laughing hysterically, which only made us both laugh even harder. Ngl this was the highlight of my day, and she said it brightened her day as well after a customer verbally attacked her at the ticket counter earlier in the morning

[coolwali]

Dream of a Plane with holes in its Fuselage

Last night, I was extremely tired and sleep deprived which makes my dream feel way more vivid and real.

In the dream, it was 2015, Avengers Age of Ultron had just come out. Fuel prices had risen so much that airlines were struggling. One manufacturer announced a new type of plane with holes in the fuselage to further reduce the weight of the plane and offset the fuel costs.. It also had a colour scheme of blue in the back, red in the middle and blue ribbons towards the front.

I was boarding a flight from Chicago O’ Hare Airport to Toronto Pearson. I had to catch a fight from Toronto to JFK in New York. I did feel rather uncomfortable as I was sitting next to one of the fuselage holes at the back left of the plane and could see the runway and plane’s landing gear below. The dream was so vivid that I could feel the wind from the hole.

As soon as the plane was taxing off, the pilot announced on the speakers that this plane had a cool feature where it could jettison the entire fuselage to further reduce weight and make the plane even faster and manuverable. As soon as the plane’s wheels lifted off, the entire fuselage (minus the part surrounding the cockpit) came off. So it was just the cockpit and all the passenger seats attached to the floor (the wings and engines were also missing). This pilot was really enjoying himself as he then did barrel rolls. They felt so real. I felt myself lurch and move around. The pilot also seemed to leave the speakers on as the copilot was warning him to knock it off and be more serious.

The pilot then flew the plane 10 meters above Chicago’s streets towards Toronto. And had fun along the way by doing near misses into street lights and buildings, swooping and making sharp turns, lots of barrel rolls. I remember feeling mixed on this. On one hand, It felt like a rollercoaster and was enjoyable. On the other hand, I was terrified as well.

The benefit of this pilot’s eccentric approach to flying with a lighter and faster plane was that we arrived in Toronto in 35 minutes. The last I remember of the dream was barely being able to walk, stumbling on my feet as I walked across the Jetbridge. As soon I was about to enter customs, I collapsed to the ground and woke up with a jolt.