#A literal child would have better takes then these so called analyst

[mysticcrownwolf]

I have not watched arcane but I follow enough people that do to have to general idea of what it's about and I am calling it right now the only reason this fandom demonize Vi is because they like Jinx and by extension Silco so all the bullshit ass enabling he did with Jinx for years will be forgotten because Vi punches her for killing everybody she ever loved and then the people in this fandom who don't have even a quarter of a brain cell to rub together will be like well Jinx suffered so much because of Vi because she had suicidal thoughts and see people meanwhile Vi deadass saw everyone she loved die in front of her, then lose her only remaining family to Silco and then spend her whole childhood in prison. Like the people in this fandom can't comprehend morally grey characters or even think that their faves can be complex people who can do bad things if the narrative shifts that way.

Look me in the eye and tell me these people have a single thought in their head while watching the show because the writers said these two seasons are the Jinx and Vi story. That they will probably make more arcane stuff but these seasons are focused on the sisters and so why do I see post like I wish Vi didn't have so much screen time or I wish Vi and Cait story wasn't the main focus here and the show focused more on "insert any background narrative they wanted to see" like bitch go fuck yourself.

Like I have never seen such a large group of people utterly incapable of media literacy it's like they need to be handfed concepts like:-

"A doomed narrative means no happy endings at most you get a bittersweet one"

"Your fave can be a bad person and still be your fave you don't have to justify them as a good or reasonable person (and demonize their equally traumatized sister looking at you weirdly purist Jinx fans) to continue liking them.

"Metaphors and parallels shouldn't be spoken or spelled out for you. You as a viewer are suppose to understand then yourself using your brain"

"Good people can do some bad things this doesn't make then irredeemable and bad people can do some good things this doesn't suddenly makes them fully redeemable"

"If a shows ending is ambiguous it doesn't mean the writers were too pussy to commit to a proper ending it means they purposefully made it ambiguous so their can be more than one interpretation for it"

"Not all good stories needs have good or even satisfying happily ever after usually in a doomed narrative you just survive to live another day"

"Just because someone's trauma manifest in a more visible way doesn't mean another characters didn't suffer at all (still looking at you Vi haters)"

To summarise do I think the people who can't see a nuanced story like arcane without generalizing everything in black and white and then complaining about how it's bad are all brainless idiots with the mental capacity of a third grader with no capacity for media literacy or reflection. Yes. Is it probably a baseless generalization. Probably. Do I care. No,fuck you'll and all your arcane hate post you all tricked me into reading by disguise them as actually analysis.

If I can pick up on the subtle nuances and non linear narrative of arcane by just reading Tumblr posts and watching some clips on YouTube you people have no reason to have this shitty of an opinion when you actually consumed the full media.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Workers want real jobs

“Saying the quiet part out loud,” is a cliche, but like so many shopworn phrases, it has its roots in real truths that bear repetition.

Back in 2017, a bunch of Wall Street bros shouted the quiet part out loud.

https://www.vox.com/new-money/2017/4/29/15471634/american-airlines-raise

The occasion was an American Airlines earnings call in which management revealed that the company had recorded solid profits and was going to use some of them to bring pilots and flight-attendants wages up to parity with Delta and United.

Wall Street lost its shit. The iconic example was Citi analyst Kevin Crissey, who whined:

“This is frustrating. Labor is being paid first again.”

Wall Street agreed with Crissey. AA’s share price plummeted.

https://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-american-airlines-raises-20170427-story.html

Crissey was voicing a fundamental truth:

Irrespective of how much profit a company makes, the investors’ earnings go up when the workers’ earnings go down.

Now, it’s true that happy, secure workers can be more productive and secure higher profits, but that doesn’t automatically mean that paying higher wages will make more money for shareholders.

If the additional sums needed to make workers happy and secure swallow the excess profits that security generates, then investors are better off with miserable, scared, unproductive workers.

Not only that: if the investors’ position is short-term, looking for the highest yield over a single quarter or even less, the fact that higher wages will lead to long-term advantages, like worker retention and productivity, is irrelevant to the investors’ interests.

That’s the quiet part: between workers and investors, there’s a zero-sum game. Forty years of anti-labor policies (undermining unions, workplace protections) culminating in the “gig economy” all-out assault on the idea of employment itself have papered over this core truth.

While gig economy companies were spending $200m in deceptive scare-ads to pass California’s Prop 22 — which formalized worker misclassification, allowing bosses to fire employees and re-hire them as union-ineligible “independent contractors” — they insisted this was good for workers.

“Worker flexibility” has been the rallying cry of the shareholder class for decades — even as they maximized employer flexibility and bound workers in legal and economic shackles.

The number one source of noncompete agreements in America today is fast-food chains — where a sub-starvation minimum-wage (or tipped minimum) job is likely to come with a legal prohibition on taking a better job in the industry for three years after you quit this one.

Thus bound over to their employers, workers were subjected to zero-hours contracting terms, where you are not guaranteed any shifts in a given week, but must take all shifts you are offered.

If you’re scheduled for a graveyard shift until 3AM and then a morning shift the next day that starts at 6AM, you have two choices — take the double-shift or look for work elsewhere (just not in the same industry).

This “flexibility” transfers all the value from the employees’ side of the ledger to the bosses’. Bosses get to schedule based on demand, or in order to ensure that workers don’t cross the weekly hours threshold that would entitle them to benefits.

Workers, meanwhile, can’t schedule another job, or childcare, or continuing education. There’s a tiny minority of legit freelancers (including me) for whom contract work is genuinely beneficial — but almost every “independent contractor” is actually a misclassified employee.

A new McKinsney-Ipsos poll shows up the myth of the happy, flexible contract worker. 62% of gig workers overall want real jobs — that number rises sharply for PoCs in gig jobs: for immigrant workers, the figure is 76%.

https://www.mckinsey.com/about-us/covid-response-center/covid-19-impact/impact-on-economies/unequal-america-ten-insights-on-the-state-of-economic-opportunity#

As striking as that figure is, it is even more significant when places alongside another finding: 70% of employers want to fire their workers and replace them with part-timers, temps and gig workers.

Employers have always been comfortable with waging class war — they just don’t like to talk about it.

The poll found that most Americans have a poor economic outlook and half of US workers are “on the brink of financial ruin.”

Despite neoliberal rhetoric, a firm that replaces jobs with gig/contract/temp roles is not engaged in “job creation.”

That is literal job destruction — turning “jobs” into precarious, sub-starvation contracts with no rights or protections.

Workers do want “flexibility” — like protection from noncompetes (the flexibility to take a better job), from arbitration waivers (the flexibility to sue your abusive boss).

Workers want protection from arbitrary shift assignments (the flexibility to plan your family and other work and life activities), universal health care, child care and sick leave (the flexibility to take care of your health without losing your job and home).

Flexibility is great, but like wages, it’s zero-sum. The more flexibility workers have, the less flexibility their employers have. Giving workers flexibility means depriving employers of the flexibility to abuse, underpay and fire those workers.

Workers are wise to that fact. The quiet part has been said out loud, forcefully and for a long time.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (One)

Chapter One: Wins and Losses

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

If you’d have told high school senior Y/N that she’d be working at the FBI after graduating college, she would have never believed you. Not only did she have zero interest in law enforcement, she also seemed to lack any athletic skills to back her up. She was nothing like her fiancé, who’d had his heart set on joining the bureau since middle school. She and Grant Anderson were friends in high school and ended up getting together during their junior year. Anderson proposed to Y/N during her second year of college. She’d graduated almost two years ago now, but the wedding date was unknown. They’d been dating for four years and engaged for another four years with the wedding nowhere to be seen. He’d been the first and only boy–and man, to ever pay her half a mind. To her, that was good enough. Hell, she’d been with him for eight years, if she’d wanted to leave him, she’d have left long ago. Right?

Imagine her surprise when he’d told her that his new boss, Aaron Hotchner, was looking for a receptionist for the BAU. Fresh out of college, landing a secure job? That was a miracle, and she really did have to thank her fiancé for it. But everyone around her was so cool and she was just…there. Her job was basically to sort through files, organize Hotch’s meetings, among other things like making reservations at the hotels the agents stayed at on their cases. 

The Agents of the BAU.

They were essentially the coolest people she knew.

First comes Agent Gideon, one of the founders of the BAU. His ability to read people scares her sometimes. How can one man’s beady little eyes have the ability to read people like they were some kind of book stowed away on a dusty shelf? A shelf only he can reach.

Then, comes Agent Hotchner, the unit chief. A stoic man with an even more stoic face. He’s a man who, to put it lightly, takes his job very seriously. On more than one occasion has she met his wife, Haley. They made a beautiful couple in her eyes and they’d just had their child, Jack Hotchner. She never knew how a baby’s face could be so wrinkly–yet so cute. Haley and Aaron were high school sweethearts, much like she and Grant. But that seemed to be the only aspect they shared. Despite his suffocatingly hard shell, Aaron was a loving man. That much was obvious. She wondered if Grant had ever looked at her the way Aaron looked at Haley.

Agent Derek Morgan, where to begin? He was tall, dark, and every bit handsome. His charming nature made all the ladies of the sixth (and fifth, and seventh, and eighth and–) floor swoon over him anytime he walked by. He is one of the bravest men she’d ever known. His ability to put himself in the place of the unsub was something she’d only heard stories about–but it gave her chills every time.

Next comes Agent Elle Greenaway, one of the most headstrong women Y/N has ever met. Her bluntness can come across as harsh, but she knew a woman in law enforcement had to stand her ground to be treated with as equal respect as her male counterparts. She admired her strength.

Agent Jennifer Jareau, or as Y/N knew her, JJ, was a kind hearted, compassionate woman who’s way with words absolutely blew Y/N away. The way JJ handled the media with such finesse was simply astonishing. She knew she could never string together the right words like JJ seemed to, up on those podiums, in front of all those nosy reporters. It was mind blowing to watch her in her element.

Penelope Garcia, or otherwise known as literal sunshine embodied in a technical analyst. She was the best at what she did, hacking, searching, filtering. It was a science, and Penelope Garcia made it look easy. She and Y/N had grown close since both of them stayed at the office while the other agents flew around the country, solving cases. They’d often spend endless lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ as she called it and was practically hellbent on teaching Y/N how to use Photoshop every chance she got.

And last but certainly not least, Dr. Spencer Reid. She’d never met a man with a more brilliant brain. He was known as the resident genius, the expert on well–everything. The man had an eidetic memory and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute. Is that not the most impressive thing on the planet? Nope, he just has to have three PhDs in three of the most complicated fields of study: mathematics, physics, and engineering, achieving all three before reaching 22 years of age. 

He had joined the bureau about a year after Y/N had started there. She could remember their first interaction like it was yesterday. 

He had been in and out of meetings before spotting Y/N at her desk, where she usually stayed during her lunch break, at least for the first year she was there. She was halfway through a cup of mixed berry yogurt when Spencer came up to her desk to ask where the breakroom was. Y/N directed him to the room and followed his gaze to the yogurt container in her hands before he left.

“Did you know that the origins of yogurt are pretty much unknown, although historians agree that there was no mention of it before 5000 BC? It’s thought to have been invented by the Mesopotamians.” He said as he pursed his lips and raised his brows, as if realizing he made a mistake too late.

“No, I didn’t know that! That’s super cool. You must be Dr. Spencer Reid, right?” She said, giving him her full attention, which made him slightly more nervous than he had been previously. He nodded, a shy smile on his face.

“And you’re…” he looked for her name holder, “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

She giggled and the sound activated some kind of blood rushing mechanism right up into his cheeks, “Yup! I’m the BAU’s receptionist slash Agent Hotchner’s assistant, you know, nothing fancy but I like to think I’m pretty good at sorting through files.” She raised a brow and gave him an adorable smile and suddenly Spencer wasn’t so nervous to talk to her. 

She seemed way more interactive and easygoing than just about 98% of the people in the building. He wondered if it was because she wasn’t an agent. Spencer also wondered if gaining a title like ‘Supervisory Special Agent’ would make him cold like the others, but then he remembered he has three doctorates and already introduced himself with the honorific. 

She picked up on his silence, “You know, you have nothing to worry about, I overheard Agent Gideon talking about you landing the job with Agent Morgan.” She nodded her head towards a tall, muscular man, who Spencer gathered must be Morgan. Spencer smiled back at her, her words easing even more of the tension he collected in his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, you should see the massive list of exceptions they have to make to let me into the field.” He said with a ghost of a smile on his face. She had to physically repress a laugh. And right then and there, the seed of a beautiful friendship was planted.

Fast forward to two years after that interaction, Spencer and Y/N became pretty much attached at the hip whenever he was actually in the office and not flying around the country catching serial killers. Their desks were quite far from each other, hers right near the glass doors of the BAU and his across the room right near the railing that had Hotch and Gideon’s offices as well as the conference room. It gave them both perfect views of each other, which they used to send each other encouraging smiles throughout the day, maybe a funny face or two. He always had a way of making her smile, she hadn’t felt the fuzzy feeling of friendship in years. Besides Garcia, Spencer was the only person who had made an effort to get to know Y/N. In the past two years, she’d say Spencer knew her better than anyone else, possibly even Anderson, but that was surely because he was a talented genius profiler…

Budget meetings at the FBI were definitely the most boring types of meetings in the world. She had to be there because she was the one making all the reservations at the hotels, but once they began talking about the jet and fuel consumption–Y/N totally spaced out. Spencer enjoyed the meetings, though. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Y/N would sometimes space out and let her head fall against his shoulder. The weight of her head brought him inexplicable comfort and joy. He hates it when people come near him, when did it become so endearing to him for her to trust him enough with such a simple gesture? He found himself attending the meetings and sitting next to her whenever he got the chance, hoping that one day, maybe, just maybe she’ll allow her head to rest upon his shoulder again. Perhaps it was pathetic, but he found himself feeling overjoyed at the thought of budget meetings, they became the only thing he’d look forward to. 

He wondered if this was how Anderson felt when she rested her head on his shoulder, but then his knee would start bouncing and he’d practically feel the envious monster growing in the pit of his stomach, so he’d stop. It certainly didn’t make it any easier to stop when it was so easy to look over and find Anderson leaning against her desk and flirting with her. Technically, he has every right to flirt with his fiancée, but that didn’t stop jealousy from coursing through Spencer’s veins violently.

The team had just landed last night, they were coming back from a case revolving around the famous actress, Lila Archer. Apparently, she’d had a stalker. Y/N couldn’t wait to hear the details of the case, she had watched almost all of Lila’s movies. She eagerly awaited Spencer’s arrival. Just then, she heard the ding of the elevator and saw a very sheepish -and flushed- Spencer with a very playful Morgan hot on his tail.

“Morning, pretty girl!” Derek halted his seemingly incessant teasing to greet her as they walked towards her. Spencer was oddly quiet as he tried to pass by, offering her a small, awkward wave instead of his usual smiley ‘good morning!’, but Derek grabbed him by the strap of his messenger bag. He made it his mission to embarrass Spencer as much as humanly possible when he woke up this morning. What Derek didn’t know was that Spencer wanted Y/N to be the absolute last person to know of what happened. Spencer shifted uncomfortably and was positive he was sweating more than he ever had in his 24 years of life.

“Morning, Derek! So, tell me all about it! Did you meet her? Of course, you met her, duh! What was she like? Was she a stuck up diva like her character in Wins and Losses or was she more down to earth?” Y/N questioned curiously with a hint of excitement.

“Oh, I think pretty boy here has all the answers you could ever wish for. After all, it wasn’t me who made out with a hot movie star in her own pool.” Derek laughed, eyes squinting as he clapped Spencer on the shoulder proudly. Neither of the two men caught the way Y/N’s face dropped. Spencer was too focused on looking anywhere but at her and Derek was too triumphant to look anywhere but at Spencer’s -alarmingly- red face. He attempted to clear his throat when the few seconds of stunned silence became much too suffocating. Derek turned back to Y/N just in time to see her collect her jaw from off the desk and morph it into a smile.

“Spencer Reid, you did what?!” She attempted to laugh in order to lighten the mood, hoping the two profilers wouldn’t pick up on her dis-ingenuousness. 

They hadn’t, thankfully.

Spencer’s shy eyes met her curious ones as he tried to imitate Derek’s proud smile,and he could have sworn he saw a sort of unfamiliar heaviness in her gaze, but it disappeared as soon as it came. 

Could it be? Was she feeling jealous? There’s no way, she thought. But what else could be behind the not so subtle burning feeling in her chest? 

“Um, yeah. She kind of pulled me into the pool with her…” he recounted with a small voice, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“And?” Derek said in anticipation, despite already knowing.

“Alright! We kissed a few times, what’s the big deal?” He huffed, turning to look at Derek and resisting the urge to punch him in the face for embarrassing him in front of Y/N.

Garcia suddenly appeared next to them, catching the looks between the two agents and Y/N’s shocked expression, “Oh! Are we talking about boy wonder locking lips with miss Lila Archer in her pool?”

Spencer’s face dropped, “How do you know about that?!” he all but screeched.

“I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.” Garcia wiggled her eyebrows at Spencer before sharing a knowing look with Derek which led to a prompt punch to Derek’s arm from him which then led to an over exaggerated yelp of pain.

“I’ve also got photos!” Garcia said, quickly pulling out her PDA and showing Y/N.

“Garcia! How?!” Spencer exclaimed, but it was too late. Y/N was already scrolling through the photos, laughing.

“Spencer, you sly dog!” She laughed, though the situation awoke an unprecedented, seemingly underlying feeling of envy. Spencer rolled his eyes in embarrassment and stormed off in the direction of his desk, leaving the three of them behind. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly, although Y/N had to keep fighting against the way her chest felt tight every time she remembered those photos. She had a feeling she was never going to watch Wins and Losses ever again.

next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!!

[pennylaneforthoughts]

Lokius Hogwarts AU

All right my dudes, hot take time:

I’ve seen a lot of Hogwarts AU headcanons floating around, and having thought waaaaaay too much about it, I’m here to add my two cents.

( @sortinghatchats has my favorite sorting system I’ve seen to date, since it goes so much in depth into themes throughout the HP series that good ol’ JK barely touches on in her pretty surface level commentary on the subject, so that’s the system I’m gonna use. Go to their blog to learn more about the way the system works bc I’m too lazy to go more in depth than I already have.)

This is gonna be Hella Long tho so I’m putting it under a cut.

Loki: Petrified Slytherin Primary/Slytherin Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

Perhaps it may seem trite, but Loki really is a Slytherin Primary at heart. Yes he is ambitious and all that stereotypical stuff, but that’s not really what makes a Slytherin a Slytherin. Anyone can be ambitious. No, he’s a Slytherin because he unapologetically prioritizes himself and the people he cares about above all else. 

“Slytherin Primaries are fiercely loyal to the people they care for most. Slytherin is the place where “you’ll make your real friends”– they prioritize individual loyalties and find their moral core in protecting and caring for the people they are closest to. Slytherin’s reputation for ambition comes from the visibility of this promotion of the self and their important people– ambition is something you can find in all four Houses; Slytherin’s is just the one that looks most obviously selfish.”

However, Loki’s trauma has pushed him to something this system calls Petrifying.

“Whether through death, betrayal, abandonment (from either side), or through never having had any to begin with, the Petrified Slytherin has decided that having important people is too dangerous. Having those strong ties leaves you open to pain and weakness, and the pleasure of those connections aren’t worth the despair that comes from their seemingly inevitable loss. In this way, they close themselves off to meaningful connections out of what is ultimately fear (though from the inside, it’s far more likely to be experienced as a rational, sensible decision given the circumstances of the world), and gives them a stony exterior that seems impenetrable, resolute, and cold.” 

Loki wants love and acceptance so badly, but he is convinced that the kind of attachments and relationships that that comes from are far too dangerous and the risk isn’t worth the reward. He pushes people away, hides behind a mask of self-aggrandizement, and betrays others before they can betray him in an attempt to protect himself from potential pain.

In the series, however, we see him slowly unpetrify and move towards a more healthy style of attachment because of Mobius and Sylvie’s influence on him. Whereas his circle of priorities used to include only himself (and arguably Frigga and later, Thor, in the movie timeline), he proverbially “thaws” enough to let Mobius and Sylvie in, and tragically, because of that, the loss of them hurts him so deeply because by the end of season 1, they’re all he had.

His Slytherin Secondary, however, is obvious in his methodology. He’s the god of chaos. He loves improvisation, and plans only exist as long as another better idea doesn’t come along and usurp it. He’ll change and adapt (quite literally) to best fit the situation in front of him, and he takes joy in that. But beneath all the running and his many personas, he has his “neutral state” that he lets only a precious few see. Mobius gets to see it, and so does Sylvie, and as he progresses through the series, he starts to be more comfortable existing in that state where he’s no longer hiding behind everything he feels like the world expects him to be and he can just be himself. 

Mobius: Slytherin Primary (Hufflepuff Model)/Hufflepuff Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

People like to put Mobius in Hufflepuff, but honestly? I don’t think that’s where he’d be most comfortable. Yes, he is kind and caring to basically everyone, and we see this over and over again in the series. The man radiates comfort. However, like it says in Inky and Kat’s description of the Slytherin Primary, 

“Wanting to help someone doesn’t mean you’re loyal to them. Wanting to help them at the expense of your comforts, your values, your commitments and sometimes even yourself–that does.”

Mobius is kind to a fault. But he is not kind at the expense of himself. Not to everyone at least. He is kind to the child in France, but he is not kind to the point of saving him from the resetting of the timeline, and he doesn’t feel guilty about that. He believes in a duty of care, but he does not believe he has any obligation to go beyond what he thinks that duty of care is. He unapologetically plays favorites, and this is mentioned on multiple occasions. Above all else, Mobius values loyalty as a virtue. Sure, he cares about the TVA and its accompanying morality, and he genuinely does believe it’s his duty to care about and be kind to others. He seems to vibe quite well with the Hufflepuff ideal of caring about people simply because they are people, but this is all secondary to his personal loyalties when push comes to shove. For Mobius,

“dropping that model in order to stand by someone you love, or in order to protect yourself, doesn’t feel like a failing. Sticking to that modelled morality at the expense of betraying or abandoning one of their own would make a Slytherin feel guilty and wrong. Being able to put the things and concepts you like aside for the sake of the people who need you feels more righteous than any moral posturing.”

It’s for this very reason that Mobius gets so angry and feels so betrayed when he thinks Loki has abandoned him for Sylvie, and when Ravonna lies to him and prunes him.

“Betraying your own is the worst kind of crime. Loyalty is precious and terrible; it makes you vulnerable. It’s given sparingly, deeply, and a Slytherin will stand by their loyalties through the same death and fire that a Gryffindor would brave for the sake of doing the right thing, or a Hufflepuff to help someone in need.”

Loki is Mobius’ own. Mobius prioritizes Loki over almost everything else, sticks his neck out for him over and over again, and is willing to sacrifice his own happiness for him. He’s even willing to abandon the whole of his former ideology and prior friendships for this relationship that has become closer to him than his own self, the highest tier of trust and loyalty a Slytherin can give.

“It’s an extreme Slytherin who would let the whole world burn for the sake of a friend, but every Slytherin Primary would be at the very least tempted.”

And Mobius very nearly does exactly that. Even says the words, “burn it to the ground” when Loki asks him what he’s going to do. And he doesn’t feel bad about it. Especially after realizing what the TVA has done to him and the people he cares about. He kicks the TVA out of his circle of care, and doesn’t look back. And he does it for Loki.

Mobius’ Secondary is where people get his Hufflepuff vibes from, I think. A Hufflepuff secondary is marked by “their consistency and the integrity of their method. They’re our hard workers. They build habits and systems for themselves and accomplish things by keeping at them. They have a steadiness that can make them the lynchpin (though not usually the leader) of a community.” And that is what Mobius is. It’s why he radiates that kindness and comfort. He quietly and carefully works at and invests in the relationships in his life to the point that people almost automatically trust him, and over time he has learned how to read people and figure out what makes them tick. 

He approaches new situations with a steady head and gentle hand that Loki is unused to, and it’s this approach that eases Loki into learning how to trust and rely on people. It’s an inherently Hufflepuff approach, and it’s the key to his success as an analyst for the TVA and an understanding friend for Lokis across the timelines.

Tl;dr - Application to an actual Hogwarts AU fic:

THEREFORE! There’s a compelling narrative to be had with a tiny, first-year Loki coming into Hogwarts. He comes from a pureblood family that’s very proud of their Gryffindor heritage (they don’t talk about Hela, and Loki and Thor don’t even know she exists until later in this story), and his brother had been sorted into Gryffindor a couple years prior, and Loki has heard very little other than contempt for Slytherin House and everyone in it. Loki doesn’t want to be sorted into Slytherin. He doesn’t want to deal with the disappointment and shame from his father and the sad eyes of his brother. But the sorting hat sorts him there almost immediately, and his heart sinks. He wanders over to the table miserably but determined. If he’s gonna be sorted into the “evil” house, might as well just run with it, right? Best not to get close to people though. It’s Slytherin. Who knows when someone will betray you.

Enter Mobius, the tiny muggleborn, bright eyed, bushy tailed, and having no clue about the prejudices between houses. The hat takes a hot minute sorting him, giving him the choice between Hufflepuff and Slytherin and telling him Hufflepuff would love a kindhearted and welcoming member like him. But Mobius has been eyeing the little black-haired kid who got sorted before him and is now sitting far apart from everyone, and he can’t help but feel like he needs to be this kid’s friend. And didn’t the hat just say Slytherin is where you’ll make your real friends? Friends are what Mobius cares about, so he’d like to go to Slytherin, thank you very much, so that’s where he goes, and he happily plunks himself down right next to Loki and sticks his hand out.

“I’m Mobius. What’s your name?”

 Loki looks at Mobius’ hand disdainfully and doesn’t shake it, but he does answer, “Loki.”

Mobius’ eyes go wide, and he smiles. “Loki? Like after the Norse god?”

Loki nods, eyeing Mobius suspiciously. People don’t often bat an eye at his name. Not in the wizarding world, anyway.

“Wow, that’s so cool! I loved reading about Norse mythology in school and Loki was always my favorite. Names have power, you know. If you’ve got the same name, then you must be just as awesome.”

Loki has no idea what to do with this kid, but he’s immediately aware of two things:

He’s absolutely sure that this Mobius kid is in the wrong house. No way a Slytherin can be this excited without a single hint of deception in his face.

He’s going to be eaten alive by the other students if Loki doesn’t protect him. What a pain.

Loki is completely wrong on both of these points.

[kateis-cakeis]

Kateis-cakeis my beloved I have a hot take for you to review

I heard someone say that Alivebur abused Tommy, mainly citing that “he belittled him every chance he could”

I think OP was thinking that Alivebur’s “you’re irrational and a child” type comments were being abusive but I think it was mostly him just citing his reasons for things and being honest.

I don’t think Alivebur was ever abusive, but you know quotes better than I.

Hello, Anon, my beloved for calling me my beloved :P

Hi, thank you for the hot take, I will give a quick review right here right now... No. Just simply no. I mean like, sure, Alivebur was very brutally honest, to the point where he was being unkind to Tommy... but abusive?? 

Part of me thinks that take is just someone picking up words from the fandom and throwing them around, without applying the weight these terms mean. Abuse is a very serious, very specific thing. Alivebur sometimes telling Tommy that he’s jeopardising them is....................... not it.

I mean, sure yeah, the comments sometimes go past Alivebur think Tommy was jeopardising them, but you know, let me get into the quotes I have, specifically the ones this person might be talking about!

“You’re too dangerous. You’re too loud, you talk too much, you’re too loud, you run your mouth.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 1:43:14, 29th July)

So here’s one! This is from Day 1 of L’Manberg. You know why Alivebur says this? Because Tommy went after Alyssa to kill her after she burnt the trees down, only for them all to realise it wasn’t her that burnt the trees down. Tommy then says it’s a political attack, to which Alivebur turns around and tells Tommy to go home.

Just after that, he says the above quote. It’s very clear that Alivebur is just saying a truth he believes here, and this is also after Tommy decides to keep his house in the Dream SMP lands, something that makes Alivebur believe he’s not as loyal as the others.

It definitely comes from a place of genuine belief, not belittling him for the sake of it.

Wanna see some genuine concern Alivebur had towards Tommy’s fire, that sometimes makes him dangerous, as said above:

But, Tommy, I’m worried that your fire, the fire in your heart will overtake you.” - (Wilbur’s The Election Campaign: 56:39, 8th Sep)

Here it is! Alivebur believed that the debate that George would eat him alive, because of Tommy’s fire. He had concerns, that came from a good place, that place being that Tommy once lost a life due to his fire. Due to him ‘running his mouth’ as it were. 

Actually, Alivebur, when going off to surrender, asked Tommy to come with him but to be quiet and not to run his mouth. But then Tommy does, and the duel happened, and, well...

So, you can see where the harshness comes from, and that it also comes from worry.

So another quote that take may come from is this:

“You’re proving yourself to be too much of a loose cannon, Tommy. I literally can’t- I can’t- Look, there is a reason why you are not the president and never will be.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 05:36)

This is actually the first time when Alivebur said Tommy would never be President. Before the festival announcement, before Alivebur said it during the ‘let’s be the bad guys’ moment.

You know where he says it first of all? Because Tommy had revealed the tunnels to Quackity, and Alivebur and Tubbo were desperately trying to block it off so that Quackity would not find Pogtopia.

Except Tommy kept trying to reconnect the Prime Path, which, you know, was putting them in danger. Alivebur then tells Tommy to not come to the announcement. An argument ensues, and Alivebur says the above quote as Tommy is speaking over him. It was legit in the heat of that moment, when he said Tommy would never be President.

And you can see why Alivebur would think that. Tommy has just put all their lives at risk, and that loose cannon-ness becomes too much for him. 

Alivebur knows what it takes to be in charge, and we know from Ghostbur that a lot of what we saw, was him controlling his emotions in front of others - when all he would do when alone was cry into a pillow.

This moment is why Alivebur later says:

“Tommyinnit, you’re scared that people are gonna think differently of you. Tommy, when I said you’re never gonna be president, you gotta understand, that wasn’t a challenge, that’s true. You’re never gonna be president, Tommy.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 19:39)

He’s not saying it randomly, he’s not saying it to belittle or keep Tommy in his place, he’s not saying it to manipulate... In fact, he says why he’s saying it. Because to him, it’s true. He’s not pushing Tommy down, he’s not projecting his own fears, he’s stating a truth he’s believed from the beginning.

This wasn’t new. This wasn’t some revelation he had, it’s something that’s been there, in that relationship, since the beginning. That no matter how much trust Alivebur put in Tommy, he saw him as dangerous and a loose cannon.

Hell, he even says again, after the festival, why Tommy couldn’t be president:

“Unfortunately though for you, Tubbo, Tommy isn’t as mature. See, that’s why he can’t be president. He follows his emotions too strongly, he gets too angry at things.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:26:17)

See? It’s not even interpretation. Alivebur says it himself why he believes it to be true, because at that point in time, all Alivebur knew was a Tommy that did follow his emotions very strongly, and who did get angry at things. That’s just part of what Alivebur believed him to be back in those days.

That doesn’t make it abuse.

And that’s about all the quotes I have from my masterpost!!! At least those that I thought seemed like what that kinda take could be thinking about.

As an Alivebur analyst, who likes to believe I know the character well, all these quotes show that Alivebur was speaking truth. There lacks intention here, and shows that in some cases, Alivebur is acting as a leader, trying to keep him people safe.

And yeah, while it may be hard to admit, in these days, Tommy could be dangerous, and his careless talk (like Alivebur mentioned during the tunnel incident) did put lives at risk.

The abuse takes really come from fanon interpretation from what I’ve seen, and that just... hurts. Like being mean sometimes, being truthful with harsh truths especially, was just part of who Alivebur was with people sometimes. A lot of it seems to come from him as a leader, and occasionally just him.

But god, I’m sick of the abuse takes. I’m here, sitting on a pile of quotes screaming ‘look!’, yet it’s not enough. I rewatch the streams, I remember the context of each of every quote, and always mention the context when I use one, and still.... 

Still it seems my work doesn’t even leave a dent XD Maybe one day the fandom can learn that fanon is not canon :PPP But yeah, that’s my take on that take, Anon.

Feel free to send another ask in, I would like to know your thoughts on what I’ve said! :)!

[logsfm]

hey my loves   !   i’m mia  ,  21 from the east coast   !   i have not roleplayed in sheeeesh   ...   like five or six months   ?   but i am so excited to be here for opening with all of y’all   .   i spent like all morning trying to weed out this gal logan right here   ...   she’s a trip   ,   that’s the best overall description i have for ya   .   anywho   ,  lets get to the actual thing you’re here for her lil intro   .   also if you wanna mssg on discord here ya go   𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐬 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖊#7040   .

logan samara-de jaager was spotted in the fashion district adorning  air force 1’s university blue  , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to  benz i know by kelvyn colt  . you may know them as  @delogan  or as that  bella hadid  lookalike . their  twenty fourth  birthday just passed . while living in  the upper east side  , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be  querulous  but on the other hand  passionate  . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . ( cisfemale / she/her +  mia / twenty one / she/her ) + ( “ logan de jaager seen shoving ex in hotel footage during heated argument , not so sweet huh? ” / “ miss de jaager was spotted sneaking into ex beau’s apartment , what could she be up to? ” / “ sweet socialite or greedy trust fund baby ? milan de jaager publicly accuses daughter logan of stealing $1M … ” )

born into the true lap of luxury . the daughter of real estate magnate & high - profile attorney milan de jaager and his wife , british born socialite lana samara . the two of them held high favor within the 1% but were also able to find a perfect balance . they did a great job of separating personal life from the tabloids . it was rare to really know the happenings of their day to day . they had this particular kind of mystery to them , if you will .

it wasn’t long before lana began to instill the very same rhetoric she received as a child into her own   .   quality over quantity   ,   was the motto   .   just not in the way you’d assume   .   the quality at which a de jaager presented themselves to you was much more important than than quantity of time you spent with them   .   looks   ?   they’re everything   ,   in the de jaager household   .   time was simply a societal construct implemented to catch you on a bad day   ,   for that very line of thinking they embodied being late   .   rushing out of the house to finish your make up in the car   ?   a literal sin in the eyes of her mother   .

she was encouraged to take part in ballet and beauty pageants growing up   .   anything that could showcase how beautiful their daughter was lana and milan were on board for   .   personally logan hated ballet but she couldn’t deny she loved the applause the night of a showcase   .   she also couldn’t stand pageants but loved having all eyes on her as she went on stage   .

it became quite clear as the years went on that her parents were much more like close friends to their daughter than like rule - instilling guardians   .   she would text them to dismiss her from school   ,   get them to buy her   &   her friends alcohol for sleepovers  /  parties   ,   was very much so that kid who got high with her parents   .   really anything you could do with your friends   ?   was fair game with logan   &   her folks   .

at sixteen a friend of her moms who was going to be a designer for spring fashion week that year asked if logan would want to walk for him   .   she was quick to accept the offer and before she knew it she had multiple offers to walk in that years fall fashion weeks   ,   because of how easy it came to her   -    though   ,    she’s the first to admit she never really took modeling all that seriously   .

it was just a year later that her way of life changed drastically , logan and her twin brother had been caught by paparazzi on a friends boat in the hamptons snorting a white substance , anyone with eyes knew exactly what the group of teenagers were doing . upon returning home the two received the crackdown of the century . their once friendly parents turned to strict jail like guardians . often reminded that they put the families reputation at stake . the pressure to be perfect was something logan had never had to deal with until now & she almost cracked under the pressure at every turn .

it wasn’t until she left for college that she was finally given some room to breathe , attending the university of florida was the best choice for what logan truly wanted to do with her life - become a sports analyst . growing up she was infatuated with sports & and would have been involved in much more than just cheerleading had her mom allowed for her to get so much as a speck of dirt on her . during her time in florida the paparazzi seemed to find her more often than not , something her parents often denounced both over the phone & in public . the longer she spent away from the upper east side the more she became america’s sweetheart & simultaneously a thorn in her parents side . she graduated from university in 2018 , only returning back to new york for the sake of work . she’d been offered a reporting job with espn , on top of taking up modeling gigs here & there when ever she felt necessary .

personality …

one thing is very true about the de jaager’s & is very much so the same for logan ; she is not to be trusted . she can be extremely charming when she wants to be . she could sell a bag of rocks to a beach & get a princess to sell her sole to sex work . she knows exactly what people want to hear & when they want to hear it and has no qualms about lying straight to someone’s face if it means she gets something out of it . in fact sometimes , she might lie to your face just for the sheer fun of being able to call you gullible .

she’s very much so a spoiled brat although she hates when anyone call her one , she feels like she has more layers to her than that broad term . hand in hand with that is her drama queen like tendencies , any situation were there is a simple solution she will find a way to blow vastly out of portion .

due to her mother’s heavy influence growing up , she can be rather vein & materialistic . catch her like “ i can’t date a garbage person ” to someone simply because they’re not as rich or known enough for her liking .

it’s rare that you’ll ever see her jump out of character . she’s very calculated & aware of who she is ( or who she needs to seem like ) so if you ever see her emotions getting the better of her , you’ve really broken her .

she’s the type to dabble in a little bit of anything   ?   she’s a rich nyc party girl who’s been partying well before anyone should have allowed her to so she’s done it all   .    you’d be kidding yourself to think you could surprise  /  scare logan on a wild night out   .

she’s quick   &   creative with her sense of humor   .   she has both a crude / dry sense of humor   ,   as well   ,   and really just doesn’t find goofy things to be funny but more or less embarrassing   ( so if she ever tells you you’re goofy , remember it’s not a compliment ) .

her upbringing   &   parents sentiment on tabloids once reflected massively on logan   ,   but now she couldn’t quite care less about it all . after all she spends hours in front of cameras on a regular basis for work . although she does tend to shy away from people who she deems are hungry for fame or attention   .   she’s been used in the past for fame   &   will never let it happen again   , plus she’s the type to lap up attention so she likes to have as little fame whores around her as possible , more shine for her .

when she isn’t being a total nightmare though she’s actually really fun to be around ? she’s playful & loves to keep the party alive . often can be found claiming “ i’m high on life ” although everyone saw the pictures , logan , we know what you’re really high on , girl .

very chatty girl , too . victim of foot - in - mouth syndrome , big time . she doesn’t try to be disloyal & spill people’s secrets ( or does she ? ) but she can’t help herself . if she has piping hot tea she’s gonna spill it because she doesn’t wanna burn herself .

very observant girl , who loves to people watch but her observations can sometimes get muddled when she starts judging people a little too hardcore .

she’s also a undercover couch potato    &    by that i mean if you give her an option to go out   &   do something she’ll never outwardly choose to stay home to watch netflix and snuggle up under the blankets but secretly she’s hoping   &   praying she gets a chance to do so   .

plots   ...

END THIS ( L.O.V.E ) / her first love   .   these two brought the absolute worst out of one another   .    they messed her up so much that she has a weird perspective on what love between two s/o’s should even feel like now   .   maybe they had another s/o at the same time as her   &   kinda just strung her on   &   when it came out were able to lie so much to her that she believed them   .   idk   ,   in truth we could really plot something completely different as to what they did   &   inevitably what the breaking point was   .   maybe they broke up with her   &   had they not ended it maybe she would’ve still been okay with being in the relationship   .   idk i just feel like this one could be fun as hell   .     also they’d be the one whom she was caught arguing with in one of her headlines   .   ( 0 / 1 )

AFTER PARTY / this is a more reckless take of party buddies   .   im envisioning a group of people who when the parties over they all pull up to close by gulf course   ,   indulge even more in their choices of substance   ,   there is a naked gulf tournament going on   ,   there are drunks driving golf carts   ,   swerving and pouring bacardi all over the course   .   running from security when they pop up   .   it’s tradition at this point   &   if someone doesn’t come it’s almost disrespectful at this point   .   idk i just love the thought of this kinda vibe   .   ( 2 / ? )

SECRETS / okay so this one is messy   .   basically logan was very private for most of her life   (   thanks mom   &   dad   )   and during the early stages of highschool she lied to everyone saying she was a virgin   .   she told each one of these individuals that they were her first whether it be to make them fall for her   “   innocence   ”   ,   want to chase after her   ,   or whatever else we might be able to plot out   .   inevitably they compare notes at some point and find out that she’d been lying to them all   .   we can plot out how they confronted her i feel like we could make this real dramatic though   .   this would also be a backstory plot so   ,   we  can also plot out how things have transpired since for them   .   ( 0 / 3 or 4 )

BEST FRIEND / these two girls take best friends to the next level   .   they relate to one another on every level and are there for one another at all times   .   there is never a moment where they are competing with one another because they know that their #1 in there respective category   .   they are one another’s ultimate hype beasts   .   they truly embody chaotic goddess vibes   .   it’s like they were placed on this earth simply to be friends because they compliment one another that well   .   ( 0 / 1 )

LETS FALL IN LOVE FOR THE NIGHT / they are the one that’s there whenever she’s down   .   they have the ability to make her feel like they have some sort of old love whenever she’s around them   .   those feelings only last for the night though   .   they enjoy when she rambles on about sports or the novel she just recently read or really just anything she enjoys can put a smile on their face   .    they know better than to ever confuse what is going on between them though   ,   they know that she’ll never be theirs   .   whether they’re okay with this or not we can definitely plot out   .   ( 0 / 1 )

MOANA / they are not a fan of logan   .   they see her for what she is   :   an attention seeking   ,    spoiled brat and the fact that they don’t want anything to do with her makes her want them all the more   .    when they finally slept with her it was only to prove a point to her s/o at the time   ,   to prove that she’s not the sweet girlfriend she claimed to be   .   basically they’re the person who outed her for being a ho ho ho but despite knowing that they outed her for that she still tries to hook up with them because they were the best she ever had    .   they often turn her down but after a while not even they can deny that they’re attracted to her   .   they still don’t fuck with her though   .   also i think it’d be cool if their were two of them   &   maybe they worked together to out her to her s/o that didn’t believe she was a cheater   ( 0 / 2 )   also bring the s/o that they outed her to   ( 0 / 1 )

ELEVEN / the type of relationship that is stuck in the grey area   .   they’re more than friends but they don’t necessarily admit to having feelings for one another   .   honestly they probably don’t even think they have feelings for one another   .   it’s a weird dynamic   .   they spend the most of their time together late at night   .   there meeting time    ?   11pm   .    they go on wild joy rides to the beach   .   heads out of the sun roof as they let out a loud woo   .    the only thing accompanying them is a big bag of weed   .    sometimes they have deep talks   ,   honestly they probably know more about one another than anyone else   ?   because of these adventurous of theirs   .   when they aren’t having deep talks they’re running across the beach aimlessly   &   rolling around in the sand with one another   .   it’s really just a very pure plot that i need in my life   .  ( 0 / 1 )

TRUST NOBODY / this is someone who used logan for fame / attention   .   they either became close friends or even started dating   &   they used everything they learned about her or what went on between them to relay back to a tabloid / would call paparazzi to come and take pictures of them together whenever they’d go out   .   ( 0 / 1 )

some other plot ideas i’d love to see   :   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   .

[spooks-and-tea]

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader) [Ch.2]

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations, the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: 2 chapters in one day for you :)))). I plan to make this one into a few parts if people like it. If this has any relation to other fics it’s not intended. Literally just an idea that popped in my brain. I’ll also eventually add it to my wattpad .@ kittentastic

Word Count: 3,401

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.

************************************************************************

Spencer left you laying in the backseat, finding a spare blanket in your trunk to wrap you in. He dressed in his now semi-wet clothes and you threw on yours as he drove. He didn't speak to you. You caught him looking at you through the rearview mirror, but you had trouble reading his exact emotions, some profiler you were.

Spencer parked the car and you managed to stand with his help. You threw the blanket back inside and, with Spencer's arm around your waist, you managed to make it up a flight of stairs to a familiar apartment door.

No way.

This was Spencer's apartment.

When the door opened, you stood still at the doorway, eyes wide as you scanned the room. Spencer looked back at you, curiously, as you had stopped him in his tracks.

You looked like a child visiting a Disney park for the first time.

The apartment looked exactly as it did in the show; filled with books. You felt almost giddy as Spencer placed you on the couch. This was Spencer Reid's couch! These were his things! Your brain screamed, but your pain returned and you were thrown back into reality.

Spencer sat next to you, handing you a warm cup of tea, while clutching his own. He looked down at the swirling steam rising from the cup, taking a shaky breath, and finally spoke.

"Why? Why would you do that? Why would you just- try to take your own life like that?"

You sipped at your tea, trying to think of an answer. You hadn't fully come to terms with what had just happened.

You didn't want to die, and you hated the water. The thought of what you had nearly done sent a spark of fear through your spine, but you were so sure that this had been a dream.

"I wasn't trying to end my life," you answered; truthful, but vague.

"Then please explain to me exactly what you were trying to do because I don't understand why you would even want to step foot near a large body of water." He sounded angrier now, rightfully so.

"You know I hate the water?"

"Yeah, your dad. Something to do with your Dad." Spencer narrowed his eyes, subconsciously trying to find answers in your features.

"Spencer I want more than anything to tell you why I did that, but I'm afraid anything I say will make you think I'm absolutely insane."

"Does this have something to do with your memory loss? Is it the lack of sleep?" Spencer tried to reason.

"Yes and no. I've been sleeping just fine." Your throat began to burn again as you took another few sips of tea.

"You know you can trust me. If something's been bothering you, we can find you help. This can be between us and I can get you the best treatment in the country."

"I'd like it if we just kept this between us, Spence," the nickname fell easily from your tongue, "but I don't need treatment. I'm fine, really. I'm not depressed and I'm not suicidal, I swear. I can't explain why I did it, not yet." You looked at him earnestly, hoping he could profile that your were telling the truth.

Spencer's face fell, his eyes going glassy.

"What can I do that will help you then?"

Your heart clenched in your chest. Never before had you imagined you would make Spencer Reid cry. You must be really important to him in this reality.

"Spence." You set your now finished tea down on the coffee table next to his and reached up, wiping a stray tear from his cheek.

"Please don't cry, Spencer."

He held your hand over this cheek. His touch was magnetic, you hadn't noticed the pull before, but now it was obvious. You wondered if he felt it too as he grasped your hand tighter.

"What am I supposed to do then? I-I nearly lost you today! I just want to help you get better."

"You saved my life. I can't thank you enough. And you don't have to do anything more than be your normal, amazing self."

From an outsider's perspective the man in front of you should have been a complete stranger to you, but in your eyes, you already knew him. You've watched him fight his addiction, prison, relationships. He had been through it and yet he still found it in himself to dedicate all his time and energy into saving lives and putting unsubs behind bars. The last thing he needed was someone else to worry about.

You weren't sure where you fit into the canon of this universe, or if Spencer's struggles had even played out the same way they did on the show. You only knew that you had one goal at the moment and that was to make Spencer Reid happy.

"At least- at least stay with me today. Let me take care of you," Spencer spoke, rubbing at his tired eyes.

You opened your mouth to protest despite the butterflies in your stomach, but decided it was best you stayed. Letting Spencer care for you would probably give him some much needed peace of mind. This was just as beneficial to him and, truthfully, you didn't want to leave his side. That magnetic feeling returned, pulling you to him. Before you knew it, you were hugging him close to you.

"I'll stay as long as you'll have me." This wasn't just your hopeless crush on the man talking, you had a feeling this magnetic pull could be what pulled you into this alternate reality in the first place.

************************************************************************

Loyal to his word, Spencer took care of you. He made you warm soup for lunch and spaghetti for dinner and repeatedly checked your temperature throughout the day. You even made him check his own temperature a few times.

He gave you some of his clothes to wear, changing out of his own. Thinking about his daring rescue made your stomach tighten, he really was a superhero. You told him so as you both, ironically, watched a Marvel film together.

He gave you a small smile. You were happy he was smiling again, it was one of the first things that made you love his character. Come to think of it, now that all of that adrenaline and confusion was gone, your nerves were setting in. This was the man you wanted so badly to be real and walk into your coffee shop on one of your painfully long shifts. It was one thing to daydream about it, but to actually have him in front of you was beyond nerve-wracking.

Now that you physically had him here, you didn't know how to react. Like a fan girl? He had thousands, and he didn't even know it. Were you canon in this story? Were they watching you on their television screens right now? Had they seen the way he held you in the backseat of your car?

Your vision focused as Spencer waved his hand in front of you. You swallowed, feeling dirty and guilty for the past thoughts you've had about those restless hands as they trailed down book spines. You felt guilty for ever sexualizing the kind-hearted, selfless man taking care of you.

"What are you thinking about?" Spencer asked.

Way too many things.

"How did we meet, Spence?" You could see the eidetic brain gears turning as he looked down at his wringing hands. He scrunched his nose in thought.

"I-I don't- I don't remember," he looked up at you in disbelief.

"How could I not remember? The...the only clear memory I have of you is you leaving my apartment last night." Spencer's hands started to shake.

This was his worst fear coming true. You instantly hated that you had even brought it up. This universe had somehow written you in from the time you fell asleep to now. Everything else was just planted information, it never happened. You and Spencer had never had a first meeting because you've only just started existing here. How could you explain this to him?

"Spence. I have to tell you something. It's going to be hard to grasp, and I know we've already had a hell of a day. I'm sorry I've caused you all this pain when all you've done is help me, but you have to promise me you'll keep an open mind. Please don't think I'm crazy. I can explain why you and I don't remember. I know I asked you to wait for an explanation, but I can't deal with this alone. I need someone else here to know the truth." You gently cradled his head between your hands as he looked at you with wide, fearful eyes. Not fearing you, but fearing his own mind.

He nodded, appreciating your touch grounding him to reality.

"I'm a barista and an aspiring actress. I live alone in a small apartment in L.A. The last thing I remember before waking up in the bullpen today was falling asleep on the couch of my apartment. I was watching a television show called Criminal Minds and had an audition lined up for it tomorrow." You swallowed as Spencer stared at you, unblinking.

"The show is about a team of behavioral analysts who work at the BAU headquarters in Quantico, profiling and catching criminals. The team changes, but consists of Hotchner, Garcia, JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, Gideon," Spencer inhaled when you listed Gideon's name, "and my favorite character, Dr. Spencer Reid."

A second of total silence filled the apartment.

Spencer's hands dropped limply at his sides. He looked at you now as if you were a stranger, and you technically were, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"I know you don't believe me. I wouldn't believe me, but think about it Spencer. You don't remember me. You remember assorted facts about me, but today was the first day we met. Last night didn't actually happen. Isn't there a scientific theory out there that explains alternate realities?"

Spencer stood up suddenly and covered his mouth with his hand, raking his other hand through his hair. He walked to his bookcase and back, pacing, while sometimes glancing down at you. You couldn't begin to imagine what was going through his head. You decided to relate it to something you knew he knew well.

"Doctor Who." You stood up on shaky legs, Spencer moving to catch your elbow before you lost balance. He looked at you, waiting, listening, wanting to believe you weren't a stranger.

"Rose Tyler gets stuck in an alternate dimension in which she previously doesn't exist, but her deceased father is alive and well there. The Doctor can't traverse to see her without threatening to rip time and space apart. This is my alternate dimension, Spencer.  Please, if you know me at all, you'd know I am not smart or creative enough to make something like this up." You pleaded with your eyes for him to understand, for that crease in his brow to disappear.

He stayed silent, looking straight through you.

I'm losing him. I've fucked up.

"Please say something, Spencer, you're the only thing that has felt real since I woke up here. I just got cleared at the hospital, my brain is functioning fine, I'm healthy."

"When you jumped into the lake. You were trying to return to your reality. You thought it would wake you up." Spencer shook his head, putting pieces together as he went back to pacing.

"Look at me, Spence. Profile me if you have to. I'm telling you the truth."

"There are plenty of unsubs that think their contrived reality is the truth, you've seen them."

You deflated, feeling your shoulders go slack. He was comparing you to delusional criminals. You should've expected that it would be too much for the analytical Spencer Reid to accept. What else could you say to prove to him you were telling the truth?

Spencer suddenly stopped pacing, staring at his bookcase.

"Quantum mechanics," he spoke.

"What?"

He turned around to look at you.

"There's an interpretation of quantum mechanics called the many-worlds interpretation, created by physicist Hugh Everett. Though many physicists call it a theory. The interpretation can be explained through the Schrodinger's Cat equation in which the cat, placed in a box, exists in two different realities. One in which it is alive in the box and one in which it is dead in the box. These realities then branch off into more realities, like tree branches. There is a consequence to this theory, as observations of events are constantly taking place, the number of possible, simultaneously existing realities, is always growing as the interpretation chooses to discard the wave function collapse process. Subsystems may exist independently, but once they interact, they become relative. Once the observation is made the observer and the object become entangled and new states are created. Every reality created is equally real, but do not interact with each other unless this entanglement occurs. It's a highly debated interpretation in the scientific community."

You stared at him, mouth open in shock, trying to process all of the information he was throwing at you. He took a step towards you, one hand in his pocket, while the other accentuated his speech.

"Essentially if multiple universes exist. If what you're saying is true, then our subsystems have somehow become entangled, yours and mine. One universe in which you exist, and one in which you never existed. We're both the observers of our own universes and you've crossed over into mine, creating another branch in the system of my universe in which you and I can exist simultaneously." Spencer licked his lips before continuing.

"The problem is this is nothing but an interpretation of quantum mechanics, an ongoing debate. There are so many theories that exist in that realm of science that all have their inconsistencies. There's no way of knowing for sure how or why this is happening to us, or what will become of it."

You weren't sure if you had fully understood his theory, but he sounded serious, he believed you. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone.

"Oh, Spencer. Thank you!" You threw your arms around him, hugging him.

He stiffened, but slowly wrapped his arms around you. "It was my memory that made me believe. I could never forget you. Doctor Who helped too."

"What are we going to do, Spence? What if this happens to me again, where will I end up?" Cosmic fear gripped you as you imagined yourself as a character in a Twilight Zone episode, doomed to dreading the unknown.

"We're going to continue living as normal. This is real, though it might seem like a dream to you. There's something that pulled us together, a magnetic force that entangled our worlds. The possibility of you being here at all is infinitely improbable. The probability of this to happen again is just as infinitely unmeasurable. You're a physicist's dream girl, Y/N."

You blushed as he called you a "dream girl." His explanation put your nerves, and existential dread at ease. He was always better at statistics than relating to others emotionally on the show, but his info-dump in this case made you feel sane.

You felt emotionally and physically drained. This was definitely the longest day of your life. Spencer felt your weight against him and pulled away.

"It's been a long day, how about we try to get some sleep? We can talk about this more tomorrow."

You nodded, eyelids already growing heavy. You turned to collapse back on the couch.

"Oh no. You're taking my bed tonight." Spencer stated.

"I'm fine, Spence, you're too tall to comfortably sleep here. You can have the bed, it's the least I can do after all you've done for me."

"No, you said I could take care of you today. This is me taking care of you." Spencer held out his hand, leaving no room for arguments.

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness, finding it fitting for his character. Would you ever stop referring to him as a character? Clearly if he existed here, Mathew Gray Gubler didn't. That thought made you feel a little upset.

You took his hand without further protest and he led you to his bedroom. He turned on a light and pulled back the sheets, gesturing for you to climb in.

"Try not to sleep on your back, you swallowed a lot of lake water today, there's a good chance it won't stay down. Tomorrow I'll check your temperature again. You seem to be recovering well, but there's always a chance of pneumonia." You nodded, sitting down on the bed in front of him.

"Will you stay?" You asked as you pulled to blankets up, feeling so small in the large bed. The infinite universe and its sub universes had already had you feeling tiny. 

Spencer to hesitated.

"In here? On the floor?" Spencer asked, a bit flustered.

You shook your head and pat the empty spot next to you. It wasn't a plot to seduce the man, honestly, you just didn't want to let the only other being in the world who understood your predicament out of your sight.

"Please. I don't want to be alone." You said, after he stopped to consider it. The magnetic pull gave a tug, you absentmindedly leaned towards Spencer. You didn't notice him do the same towards you.

"Okay."

He turned off the lights and crawled in. You turned on your side to face him. His face was illuminated by the moonlight, the shadows accentuating the sharp angles of his face.

If this were a dream, you would reach out and trace the lines, feel the coarseness of his stubble. If this were a dream he would reach up to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead and pull you close to his chest. If this were a dream you wouldn't feel so nervous to be close to him. You would show him just how grateful you were to have him around; just how lucky that, of all the possible universes, you ended up in the one with Spencer Reid.

"How does it feel?" Spencer whispered, not daring to clash with the stillness of the night.

"Hmm?" You hummed, meeting his eyes.

"Before today, I was nothing more than a character in a crime show. A writer created me, and an actor brought me to life on the screen. How does it feel to meet your 'favorite character?'" Spencer smirked.

"Of course you remember that. I can't believe I told you that you were my favorite." You chuckled, Spencer's own smile reflecting yours.

"I guess I accepted you as a real person when you saved my life. Although, it's strange, knowing who you are, your likes and dislikes, your characteristics, seeing your triumphs and trials. I still find myself relating the small things you do, like scrunching your nose and info-dumping, to the character I've observed."

"Why am I your favorite?" Spencer sounded genuinely curious.

You tried to think of a way to explain in which you didn't sound like a fan with a blog full of Spencer-centric gifs. Not to mention, the staggering amount of fan fiction you consumed on lonely nights.

"I-It's okay, you don't have to answer that, but it's nice to know that you think so highly of me. Don't let Morgan find out, you'd ruin his ego." Spencer laughed to himself. "Although I'm sure he's a fan favorite and you're an exception in the viewership."

"You're plenty of people's reason to watch the show, Spence. You don't even know the half of it."

"Do they like me, or the actor who plays me? Wow, that feels weird to say."

"Both. You two are alike in some ways, but I think you are different enough that it's easy to love the character while knowing nothing about the actor. I should also say, you're a bit of a teen heartthrob, they seem to really like you."

Spencer snorted out a laugh at your last comment.

"Me? A heartthrob? You really are from an alternate reality."

You rolled your eyes.

"Sometimes you can be absolutely clueless."

"What? How?" His voice raised an octave.

"Forget it. Goodnight, Pretty Boy." You closed your eyes, not trusting yourself to hold back a blush if you met his eyes.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

Next Chapter

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

Insufferable (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Warnings: none?? Unless you count the fact that I don’t really know much at all about Star Wars oops

Description: The reader’s more than a little high-strung, so Leia pushes them to work more closely with Dameron. He has a way of making things more fun, especially when they get off base.

He’s insufferable.

Not that it bothers you. Much. Or that you’d ever let anyone know how peeved you are to not be the golden child of the Resistance.

Yes, you know this is a group effort and the only real thing that matters is saving lives. But back on your planet, you were important. People looked up to you. You worked your ass off to get into government, became the single youngest person on the council governing your city. They adored you. Here, you’re just another recruit.

If you had a therapist, they might tell you that you were covering for insecurities from your childhood or that you were trying to replace your fear with loathing. You’d probably agree with them. But is it so awful to want a little recognition?

Seeing him strut around the compound like he’s the Maker’s gift to all living creatures, hearing your fellow strategists whisper about “the best pilot in the Resistance.” It grates on you. You wish it didn’t, would give anything to not be this weak and arrogant and dependent on other people’s opinions. But you are, so you settle for avoiding Dameron as much as possible in order to keep yourself from making him victim to any... misplaced frustration.

It works, for awhile. The General is sharp as a tack, though, and she sees how you bristle when his name is mentioned. One day, after a particularly grueling meeting has ended, you almost run into her discussing an upcoming recon flight with the pilot. Just outside the door to the war room. Like she planned it or something.

Your suspicions are confirmed when she smiles at you in the least nonchalant manner you’ve ever seen and asks if you’ve had a chance to speak with him yet.

“(Y/n),” she explains to Dameron, “has only been with us for a few months, but she’s a brilliant strategist. Your upcoming mission may not be your most challenging one ever, but it’s always good to run through plans with someone who has a fresh perspective, yes?”

She’s looking at Dameron, but the question is addressed to both of you. The General doesn’t like friction in her ranks, unless it’s motivational, and this little one-sided rivalry has left you more discouraged than anything else. You swallow and open your mouth to agree, but Dameron beats you to it.

“Believe me, ma’am, I’m more than familiar with her work.”

A muscle in your jaw ticks before you can help yourself. It’s a small movement, but Leia catches it and declares that she will leave the two of you to discuss the details. You hope you haven’t made a terrible impression on her, but right now you’re more concerned with the way that Dameron is looking at you.

You don’t believe him. About your work, that is. He’s being polite. There’s no reason for the tiny spark of—what? Surprise? Satisfaction? It sits in your stomach, small but heavy, until he clears his throat.

“Listen, I don’t mean to inconvenience you or anything. I’m sure you have plenty of important work to be doing and I don’t want to add to the load.” His voice is sincere, but your feathers are a little ruffled anyway. Does he think you wouldn’t be helpful? That you’d be wasting your time?

“No, of course not,” you say stiffly. “You’ve probably had plenty of other people look over your plans. And it’s not, as the General said, the most dangerous mission you’ve ever undertaken.”

“You’ve got that right.” His smile is easy, if a little sheepish. You turn to walk back to your quarters, but what he says next stops you in your tracks. “D’you think... Maybe you would want to get a drink or something? When you’re less busy?”

You rotate back mechanically, blink at him until he blurts out, “I mean, I just feel like I don’t know you very well at all. And if Leia’s right about you, and I think she is, we’ll probably be seeing a lot more of each other. I like to have a good working relationship with my team.”

His team. You force a smile. “Sure. That would be nice.”

If you’re ever going to move up here, you have to play well with others. You can’t refuse Dameron outright, but you don’t have to like him.

You don’t even get to turning around this time when he says, “Well, I’m free after my flight tomorrow. I’m coming back from Tatooine, but I promise I’ll shower before I meet you. If that works for you.”

You can’t keep your eyes from widening. You thought that when he suggested getting together soon, it would be one of those things where neither of you could ever be bothered to find a time that worked and it just eventually faded until the promise was broken by default. But tomorrow is soon indeed. And you don’t even have any work to hide behind. All that has been going on for the past week is recon missions, and Dameron already said he didn’t need your help with that.

After a beat of discomfort, you come back to your senses and stutter out an affirmative. Poe — Dameron — the smile lines around his eyes crinkle.

“Great,” he says. This time, you think he means it. “I’ll see you around six?”

“Great,” you echo.

Your voice sounds off, even to you, but he doesn’t narrow his eyes slightly or cock his head in the way that you’ve come to associate with people who think you’re more than a little strange. He only gives you a jaunty and slightly awkward wave himself as he disappears around the corner.

—

You don’t know what to wear.

It’s not like you have a whole lot of choices, outside your standard-issue uniform, but still. Appearances are important, and you are meeting with the best pilot in the Resistance. For drinks, nonetheless.

Drinks suggest loose, casual fun, right? A blouse is loose. But maybe it’s a little nicer than what you normally see Dameron lounging around the compound in. Your uniform is definitely casual, but if Dameron’s going to the trouble of showering after his mission, it would be rude to turn up in your clothes like you just stepped out of the war room. Maybe you’ll just wear your black shirt and—

And you’re going to be late and that will no doubt make a worse impression than whatever you pull on. You leave your clothes to puddle on the floor as you step out of them, settling on the one white t-shirt you have and some pants made of a breathable fabric that your coworker Madyn picked up in Naboo. It’s not your most creative outfit, but materials here are limited and you doubt that Dameron will care much either way.

You’re on your way to Dameron’s room when he catches you by surprise in the hallway. His hair is slicked back, the muscles in his arms flexing through a semi-tight cotton long sleeve as he runs his right hand over his beard in a gesture you would almost call nervous, if you didn’t know any better. With his left, he’s gripping the neck of a brown-bagged bottle.

“You look nice,” you both blurt. The overlap makes him laugh and you flush. You hope it isn’t a sign of more awkwardness to come.

“Should we get going?” you ask finally. He nods, taking the lead as per usual.

You don’t bother to ask exactly where it is you’re going, although he passes right by the mess hall. You assumed “a drink” meant sitting down and having some of the stuff the pilots brought back from their various missions in an environment you both knew and were comfortable with. You should have expected Dameron to diverge from the norm.

“I thought we’d get you off base tonight, if that’s all right,” he supplies, trying to fill the silence. “You’ve only been here a few months, but all I’ve ever seen you do is work.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

If possible, you stiffen more at this comment. All through your school years, people had poked fun at you for taking work too seriously. You’d thought that ended when you got a council seat, but apparently you were considered uptight even in the Resistance, where matters were literally life-or-death.

Dameron’s voice is purposefully charming, soothing like the balm your mother used to rub over your calluses. “You’re a great analyst. Everyone thinks so. But part of what we’re fighting for here is a sense of normalcy, of the right that people have to enjoy their lives without having to worry about the First Order coming in and claiming them. Don’t you think you deserve the same?”

You’re still considering your answer when he leads you to the ship.

He seems to be a little more at home than you, here in this arena. You don’t have much experience with this type of outing. You don’t know what the protocol is. Dameron’s hitting dials and adjusting knobs that only semi make sense to you, even after your work at the base. Then he turns to you, brushing dark curls out of his eyes.

“Is this okay?”

For some reason, you can’t open your mouth to respond, so you settle for a nod that sets him back at ease. You sit down next to him and busy yourself with watching his hands move. You’ve got a sneaking suspicion that he’s doing more than strictly necessary, playing with the controls to impress you, but it’s working so you stay silent.

“Leia approved this, just so you know,” Dameron says, and you tear your gaze from where his long fingers have been playing on the dash to meet his eyes. Your face is burning.

“Good.” It’s an actual squeak that escapes from your mouth. Maker, it’s embarrassing how much you’ve started caring about the pilot’s opinion in the past few hours.

“Are you all set?”

“Yes.”

“All-righty then,” Dameron says, then immediately winces. “Forget I said that.”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling. Nothing else he’s done has made you feel as comfortable as this. Is it possible that he’s a little nervous too?

Before you can decide, you’re taking off, and the view literally takes your breath away.

You had almost forgotten how it felt to fly, to know that you were alone (or as alone as one could be in the space age) with the universe. You haven’t gotten to see much of anywhere yet and you can only link known coordinates to a name, so whatever Dameron has planned will certainly take you by surprise. You begin narrowing down your options.

He didn’t tell you to dress any sort of way, so you can’t be going anywhere too hot or cold. He brought his own bottle, so you’re likely not going anywhere with an established market. Somewhere isolated, maybe? Dameron strikes you as someone who would enjoy a little rugged wilderness from time to time, despite how much hair gel he uses. 

You sneak a peek at him. The dim, perpetual evening light of space bathes his profile in a glow that makes you dig your nails into your palms. It doesn’t seem fair that on top of being smart, funny, charming and the best pilot in the Resistance, he also gets to be drop-dead gorgeous. 

“We’re almost there,” he says, mistaking your glance for, what? Impatience? 

“I’ve got time,” you assure him. In reality, you have an early meeting tomorrow, but you’ll sacrifice sleep for whatever this turns out to be. 

Dameron’s normally goofy, relaxed manner has lapsed. The jokes he cracks are a little tense, like he’s not sure they land. You don’t know what to make of it. Sure, you haven’t been exactly nice to him, but surely you haven’t given him any reason to fear you, either. 

When he finally lands (effortlessly–– and you don’t think he’s just showing off), he hops off the plane first and helps you down. You don’t need his assistance. Much. But you accept the hand anyway, because it has been awhile since you’ve flown, and even though it was as smooth as could be, your body is unused to it and your legs are a little shaky. You’re so focused on the warmth of his hand in yours that it takes you a full minute to turn your attention to your surroundings. 

You’ve never seen trees like this before. The bark is almost golden, the leaves a firey red. They’re enormous and so thin near the top that they bend and sway with every breeze. Some strange birds you can’t identify drink from small white flowers that bloom in clutches. Poe gently pulls down a branch to pluck one so you can take a closer look. When he offers it to you, your stomach flutters.

“How did you find this place?”

“I do some exploring on my own from time to time. Helps to keep my flying fresh, going through different environments. But wait, I wanted to show you—”

He takes your hand gently and leads you back through the trees. You glance over your shoulder, trying to memorize where you parked, but before too long you come to an outcropping of rock that overlooks a lake as clear as glass and the directions fall away.

Tiny fish swim in the water, darting through the loopy green plants that sway at the bottom. Turtles sun themselves on floating logs. A few creatures you can’t identify crawl in and out of the water as a group, catching fish to feed their pack.

“This is...”

You’re surprised to find yourself tearing up. You’ve never been someplace like this before, where you could exist side-by-side with nature, without having to keep up appearances. You lived in the city before coming to the Resistance, and your parents had warned you of the dangers of going off on your own. But here it was as clear as the water below you that you were safe in your enjoyment.

“I thought you’d like it.”

Poe’s grinning like the cat who got the canary, and it occurs to you for the first time that he likes making the people around you happy. Not to keep up his rep as golden boy, not to get ahead, but just because he has a gift for knowing what others need.

You wrap your arms around him suddenly in an outburst of affection that you didn’t know you had in you. Your fingers brush the longer curls in the back as your arms lock over his neck and you hold for three seconds before you come back to yourself and pull away, flushed. He’s so taken back that he almost drops the bottle.

“Thank you. Really. I know I’m not the warmest person—” Not like him. He’s practically a furnace. “And I appreciate the effort you put in anyway. You didn’t have to.”

His eyebrows crinkle together and his ever-present confidence lapses. “I wanted to. Not just because we’ll be working together.”

For a moment, there’s some emotion that holds the two of you in place, but it almost dissipates when Poe brushes a hand through his hair and says, “So. Do you want to go for a swim?”

Almost.

“I thought we just came for a drink,” you say, but your tone is teasing, as it hasn’t been since you were a child. Poe seems stunned that you didn’t refuse outright. It takes him a minute to turn the charm back on.

“We can always have it after. Although I wouldn’t say no to getting you in the water a little tipsy.”

You can tell by the nervous flicker of his eyes that he’s worried he’s gone too far and you take a breath before responding. You’ve never been on a proper date before, if that’s what this is, and you’re not exactly good with romance in general. But if Poe’s making any sort of overture, you must be doing something right.

“As long as you promise to be my lifeguard-on-duty.”

You don’t know if that’s funny. Jokes don’t come naturally to you. When Poe starts laughing, you ease up, release a giggle yourself.

It feels good to be here with him, letting your laughter echo out without worrying about who’s watching.

He’s forgotten to bring cups, so you take turns drinking from the bottle, sharing stories and favorite memories until you’re steeled enough by the alcohol to make your way down to the lake itself.

It’s dusk, so there’s not enough light for him to see everything as you peel off your shirt and shimmy out of the pants, but he sees enough. You’re rewarded when he does the same and joins you.

You don’t know how long the two of you stay out there, but you join the stars reflected on the water and relax in a way you didn’t know you were capable of.

That’s when you realize that Poe Dameron is exactly as special as they say. And maybe, judging by the way he’s staring at you, he thinks you’re special, too.

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas : Quirkless Erasure

Also on AO3!

TL;DR: 

In some worlds, Midoriya Izuku is the first quirkless hero. But not in this one, not by far.

Because his homeroom teacher is the hero he's always looked up to: UA's first quirkless Pro Hero.

----

Izuku isn't the only quirkless one, and Aizawa gets into the hero course via emotional devastation against his opponents.

anyway so: quirkless aizawa bc i need that

everyone thinks he has a quirk like emotional manipulation of something but no he's just fucking savage, he gets into the hero course bc he blasted the absolute shit out of mic

everything’s on youtube it’s one of the most viewed videos of all time

this aizawa's eyes are permanently gold bc i headcanon it's his quirk that makes his eyes black, not the colour they flash

"you yell because you have a constant fear no one is really listening to you. you play the class clown and don't try too hard so when you look back you think "i failed because i didn't try" not "i failed because i wasn't good enough""

"bro,,, bro what the fuck did i do to you"

aizawa isn’t even salty he’s quirkless tbh

"you're pushing this on me because it hurts, right? your loud, flashy but damaging quirk means the only thing people think you're useful for is heroics. did you want to do this, or is this the only way society will let you feel comfortable in the role it presses in on you"

"well being quirkless is rough but at least i cn be whatever i want to be"

mics just shell shocked mics not even using his quirk and everyone’s just uwu he’s erasing mics quirk

all aizawa does is walk is close and mutter "society thinks im worthless, which is rough. but you have to put your life on the line or you're nothing better than a villain to the people"

and just, lightly pushes him out of bounds

pls mics just in Love this guy tore him to fucking pieces but Damn

aizawa  helps him up off the floor

"so im probably not wrong but im a little sorry for saying it on live tv"

mic "youre amazing"

aizawa just goes bright red and starts sputtering

aizawa: the emotional devastation hero weakness: genuine compliments

consider 1A teacher aizawa just still made of emotional devastation, nezu made him promise not to use his powers of destruction on his children unless he was expelling them 

this is a quirkless izuku au too, mirio got ofa, allmight encouraged izuku to be a hero after the fight but had no quirk to give him and he manages to make his own way into the hero course

so izuku is a little analyst, gets mostly hero points but uses sharp rebar and poles to smash in the sensors of some robots, getting him a few non-rescue points either. Aizawa is watching like "oh interesting a non-combat quirk" and beside him allmight is vibrating with excitement

"he might actually do it!"

"who might do what"

allmight turns sheepishly to aizawa

"young midoriya on camera 6, he might just be the first quirkless student to pass the enterance exam to heroics straight up"

and aizawa can hardly watch anyone else for the rest of the exam, he adopts this kid on the fucking Spot

hes on the edge of his fucking seat, when nezu sends out the zero pointer. "this kid only needs 10 more points, just ten more" and izuku turns around to look at the 0 pointer and aizawa is like "fuck kid i hope you know what youre doing"

he manages to shove a piece of rebar into the treads, stoping it in its place. it tries to swat him like a bug but he just dives out of the way, picks up ochako and sprints and aizawa is like "holy shit holy shit these bastards better give this kid hero points for that"

like they are assigning final hero points and aizawa has to awkwardly put his hand up "i,,, should probably be excluded from giving midoriya hero points because i went from 0 to bias very very quickly"

allmight just nods sagely

"young midoriya be like that sometimes"

pls aizawa tries to act extra tough bc he can’t let anyone know he’s Adopted this child

for all izuku's brain hes useless w social stuff and thinks aizawa hates him but everyone else k n o w s

also izuku is the only person in 1A who knows ab aizawa's "quirk" and hes like, constantly vibrating w glee around the guy

aizawa walks in the first day, hears bakugo asking how this "quirkless bastard" got in, grabs bakugo w his scarf and yeets him into vlad’s room

"ok students, looks like we are a class of 19. any other comments before we start?"

and like everyone is so lost no one questions it

bakugo is screaming bloody murder until vlad "kindly" tells him ua has a strict no discrimination policy and aizawa would have been well within his rights to expel him

please nezu is like "uwu take one of 1B to make the classes even" and vlad is like "no ive already bonded tough cookies" vlad just adopts bakugo instantly

monoma and bakugou become bros, the baku-squad is 50% a thing, but its mostly 1B students but with pinning kiri. kendo and bakugo both keep monoma in line, monoma and kendo keep bakugo in line

during the sports festival shinsou is like "you must have a blessed quirk to get into the hero course"

and izuku just has this "really. this si what we're doing now" look on his face. hes just gesturing to shinso in exasperation, trying to make eye contact w aizawa hidden up in the commentary box

all you can hear from the box is aizawa quiet snickering as mic tries not to give the game away. he yeets shinso out of bonds and just hauls him back to his feet

"im quirkless you nonce"

"oh,,,"

"yeah, oh. what, gonna be embarrassed a quirkless kid kicked your ass?"

"nah i just feel bad for being a dick"

"ok you are the only valid person ive ever met, come meet my not-dad"

"wait what"

izuku fireman carries shinso into the announcers booth and just presents him to aizawa

you can just vaguely hear "no not kid" "but he'll be perfect" "kid this is live ask me after the festival" "but! hed be perfect! and you could train him to carry on your legacy of soul-crushing burns" "... hmmm"

"do i get a say in this?" "no" "nope"

mic just loudly saying "SO BEFORE WE WITNESS A CHILD CRY LIVE ON AIR AGAIN, AS ALWAYS HAPPENS IN THIS FESTIVAL, LETS START THE NEXT ROUND!"

there’s a counter “days since someone last cried: 0”

please its like "times cried durring all sports festivals" "average cry events" "number of times cried this festival"

aizawa being even more of a dad than canon, like hes a mess he sees on sad kid and he's like "wow that's my kid now"

he makes them soup when they get sick and leaves it outside their doors, refuses to admit its him doing it

soup cryptid

please mic is like 100% in love with him and had been for years but aizawa still has internal bias against the quirkless and thinks he's not good enough for mic so he cant make himself see the flirting for what it really is

“haha he’s just being friendlyL

“aizawa i literally want to marry u”

“awww ur so nice u mean as friends tho right?”

in this au ive decided that quirkless heroes are a thing, but pretty rare, in japan they are all underground bc villains go after them a l o t. there are some public ones in america but they tend to,,, die,,, pretty quickly

and bc there are some quirkless heroes everyone acts like discrimination isn't a thing anymore and quirkless people should shut up while quirkless people are still getting killed and committing suicide at like 500% the rate of people with quirks

also the suicide rate is,,,,, significantly higher in japan but no one ever talks abt it bc japan the “ideal place for people with quirks” so that surely means nothing could ever go wrong

izuku does the "its your power" speech in like 3 parts, before, during and after the sports festival bc he needs he bones w no quirk

stain asks izuku what his quirk is and izuku does the "wouldn't you like to know, weather boy"

",,, where are your parents"

"one abandoned me straight up and the other is giving it a red hot go right now, try me coward"

izuku but everytime he roasts a villain he does it in vine quotes

tl;dr in the au inko is like,, not ok w izuku being a hero and she's trying to do the "leave the school or you can't live here any more" ultimatum and it's not working for her

bc izuku said "ok bye then" and now lives out of his backpack. no one knows. he just like,, sleeps on the train

and iida is like "owo could i come over to your house" and izuku is like

"aaaaa its on fire. yep. made of arsenic and always in flames, why dont we go to the park"

everyone in 1a is like betting on what his house is like. they harass katsuki in 1b but he refuses to talk

hes like "hell no i got thrown into another class for talking ab that nerd eat my left tit"

they only fucking work it out when aizawa and allmight go to izukus house to talk ab dorms and there is literally no one there

aizawa asks izuku ab it like "kid you need to update your forms with your current address" and hes like "oh worm, she moved? wack."

“u,,,,didn’t know,,,,”

“nah lmao i sleep on the bench in a park near here”

“my boy,,,,,l

"what, ochako lives alone!"

"yeah, in a fucking house, kid"

aizawas just: this is literal child abuse i’m ur guardian now

allmight "hes my kid too dont be greedy"

"fuck off all might you already have mirio" "and you already have shinsou!" nighteye, from around the corner "ill take him!" aizawa and allmight "NO"                                  

mic adopts him nezu just sitting in the distance "well, its my school. i get the kid" one whole school full of adult heroes "NO ITS MY SON,,," izukus like crying "wait,,, you guys aren't sick of me? wild" while sobbing

afo out of nowhere: i’ll take the child :))) everyone collectively: N O

for self-indulgence, izuku is the youngest in the class for this au so they all call him their little brother

consider: quirkless aizawa is very similar to normal aizawa but he does practise self-care, he just tries to make it look like he doesnt because hes like that

if i dont take care of myself ill never be able to stand up to the heroes w quirks but also do i deserve normal good human things

tl:dr: he can cook well and is trying to teach izuku that 2-minute noodles and apples arent hero fuel

inko is like: "uwu i wont change what i cook for you so you'll just have to make do owo" in like, a pathetic attempt to get him to stop training so izuku runs off protein bars, electrolyte drinks and raw vegetables

just like, his bento at school. its only raw mushrooms, spinach, tomatoes and 2 full carrots

the only time he gets like a kinda valid balanced meal for a hero in training is when he pops by bakugous place and mitsuki forces him to stay for lunch

izuku is like "oh hi bakugo i have ur book-" "HI ITS LUNCH GET IN PIPSQUEAK"

hes just thrown into a chair, bakugo isnt even confused. izuku is like ",,,, so vlad gave me your book bc your house is near mums." "fair enough. hope you like miso salmon"

izuku just looks stary eyed

"f i s h ??? warm food bakugo id kill for you"

"deku wtf"

"i had nothing but 3 scoops of protein powder and 2 tomatoes today"

“dEKU WHAT THE FUCK”

"i had to eat the protein podwer with plain water kacchan. protein sludge followed by two raw tomatoes. i would commit real actual murder for you"

mitsuki always packs an extra bento after that

so like when it’s dorm time izuku gets rly stressed out bc he doesn’t know how to cook for himself??? bakugous in the 1b dorms and even if he wasn’t he definitely wouldn’t cook for him

1a goes on a fucking shopping trip, chaperoned, obviously

and they’re lining up and aizawa sees that izukus cart is only filled with like??? instant noodles and like two (2) fruits and he’s losing his mind bc yes okay he’s a child but he’s also a young hero and he’s going to get a heart attack by 20 if he doesn’t fix his diet

aizawa is like "izuku, you cant eat that" and izuku just goes "oh ok" puts the noodles back and comes back with a tub of protein powder and like 11 vegetables and a bag of kale

okay this is an improvement kinda, how do u cook it

,,,,,c

cook?

izuku just has a totally blank face

"i was just gonna like,,, eat it"

"raw."

"uh, yeah, is that not how u eat vegetables?”

"thats a potato. and some leeks. thats a fucking onion"

"it wont kill me though"

"thats,,, that not how you pick food kid."

“but vegetable??? good????”

"kid do you even fucking like any of this"

"wait, im supposed to like?? my food???"

yagi in the fucking health food isle hearing this is 50% laughing but 50% crying

aizawa: “izuku ur supposed to eat a well balanced and tasty meal”

izuku: *surprized pikachu face*

please even todoroki is like ",,, at least fuyumi could c o o k"

oh god imagine having a worse diet than shouto todoroki from 1a who eats nothing but cold soba and drinks juice

also please aizawa is like "kid i thought you just happened to be thin but now im seeing thats not the case"

bakugo in the distance "like inko ever fed him enough anyway lmao"

aizawa "WAIT WHAT"

whys bakugou shopping with 1a? its actually all 40 of the first years just descending on this poor little store. it’s this little mom and pop grocery store and a billion hungry hero hopefuls just burst through the door like 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒏𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔

izuku is like "oh its too expensive" and aizawa is just holding a bag of rice, aizawa is like "its cheaper than the protein powder you have"

and izuku is like "yeah i mean its empty calories and im not paying that much for empty calories"

",,,"

"thats what you taught us sensei!"

"EMPTY CALORIES ARE ONLY A PROBLEM IF UR EATING TOO MUCH"

"and?"

"YOU HAVE 3 POTAOES FOR THE NEXT 2 WEEKS"

"i can put some back if you want?"

"THATS EXACTLY WHAT I DONT WANT"

[parrlyn-4life]

“Call me. I’ll always answer.”

(So, I’m probably making this a series? Probably a College and Modern AU and how the queens met? Of course, Parrlyn will be included-)

______________________________________________________________

“Anne, Wake up!”

Anne woke up with a groan. “Alright, I’m up!” Anne yelled back to her sister, Mary. Anne slowly got out of her bed and stood up. Anne looked around her almost empty room. She was leaving for college in two days and she wasn’t ready. Anne was already 24 and she was going to college late. 

“Yo, sis! Get up, we’re gonna be late for work!” yelled Anne’s older brother, George. 

“Let me get ready! Geez, can’t a girl get ready without any interruptions?!” Anne screamed back. Yes, Anne loved her brother and sister dearly but sometimes they were a pain in the ass. Anne quickly put on her work clothes, put on some shoes, and brushed her hair. As she finished, Anne reached for her- “Alright, who took my choker?!?” Anne yelled as she stormed out of her room and went to look for her siblings. 

“Wasn’t me!” Mary yelled from her room. George threw Anne her choker. 

“It was on the counter, idiot,” George told his sister. Anne just rolled her eyes. 

“Let’s just go. Mary, are you done yet?!?” Anne yelled. Mary quickly got out of her room and grabbed the car keys. 

“Let’s go! I have a really important meeting today!” Mary said. Mary, the oldest of the three siblings, worked as a Financial Analyst, George, the middle child of the three siblings, worked as a cook at a restaurant near them, and Anne, the youngest of the three, worked as a waitress in the same restaurant George worked at. Anne and George usually took the bus to get to work but since they got up late, Mary was going to drop them off. 

“You guys buckled in?” Mary asked, ever so the mother of the two. George and Anne nodded. Ever since they have been reunited, they all lived together. Mary was sort of the mother figure that George and Anne needed. They never did find out what happened to their parents but that was ok. They had each other and that’s all that mattered. Sure, they had their differences but they always found their way around that. But anyways, George and Anne had to work all day today. They would usually have to work shifts but not today! 

“Kill me now...” Anne muttered. Anne didn’t want to work today. Anne only liked her job for a few reasons. One of them being that she has nice friends there. 

“We’re here! Have a good day, guys!” Mary said as the car stopped in front of the restaurant. 

“Bye, sis! Love you!” George said as he and Anne got out of the car. Mary waved at them before she drove off. 

“Well, get ready for a day of hell...” Anne said before walking in. When they got in, there were already a few people. George quickly rushed into the kitchen and Anne quickly rushed over to her friend, Maria Reynolds. “Mari, Are there any tables to serve?” Anne asked. 

“Not yet, Annie,” Maria said. Anne nodded and took a seat at the bar. 

“Want a drink, B?” a familiar voice said. Anne looked at another friend of hers, Thomas Jefferson. 

“No, I’m good, Jeff,” Anne said. 

“More for me, then!” Thomas said cheerfully. Anne leaned over the counter and slapped him playfully. 

“You better save some for us!” Maria said while walking over. 

“Anne, You have a table to serve!” yelled another one of Anne’s friends. Anne looked over and saw Jack, gesturing for her to come over. 

“I have to go. Duty calls,” Anne said before getting up and walking over to Jack. Nobody knew Jack’s last name or where he came from. He was probably just embarrassed about his family name, sort of like Maria and Anne. “Ok, who do I have to serve?” Anne asked Jack. 

“Table ten. Three people are already seated there,” Jack simply said. Anne nodded and took three menus. She quickly headed to table ten.

______________________________________________________________

~*~ Timeskip to a few hours later: 11:10 P.M.~*~

______________________________________________________________

“Catherine, let’s go!”

Shit, I think they’re calling me or Aragon, Catherine Parr thought. Catherine quickly, and by quickly, I mean trying to untangle her hair, brushed out her big, fluffy hair. Once she finished, Catherine walked out of her room. 

“Alright, I’m here!” Both Catherine’s said. By ‘both Catherine’s’ I mean Catherine Parr and Catherine of Aragon. Everybody in the room just burst into laughter. It was quite common for that to happen. 

“But seriously, we have to go! We have to celebrate!” Anna said excitedly. The reason everyone was celebrating was that Catherine Parr and Katherine Howard were starting college in two days. They were going to college really, and I mean REALLY, late. Catherine was already 24 and Katherine was 22. The others were already either ready for their last year or ready for whatever year they were going into.  Catherine of Aragon was 28 and she was ready for her last year of college (She started late as well,) Jane Seymour was 27 and she was ready for her third year of college (She started late too,) Anna of Cleves was 26 and she was ready for her third year as well (Okay, maybe all of them started late,) and then there’s Katherine Howard and Catherine Parr. They were both just starting college. If they started college at the right time, Parr would be in her last year and Howard would probably be in her second or third year. 

“So, where are we going?” Aragon asked as they all walked out the door. 

“You know that restaurant that’s three blocks away?” Jane asked. The others all nodded. “Well, we’re going there!” Jane said happily. They all cheered. 

“Who’s driving?” Katherine asked. 

“She’s driving,” Both Aragon and Jane said while pointing at each other. 

“Oh boy...” Anna said, having enough of their bullcrap. They do this every day! Parr thought as Jane and Aragon started to argue on who was driving. 

“You’re driving!” Aragon screamed while placing the keys in Jane's hand. 

“No, YOU’RE driving!” Jane screamed back while placing the keys back into Aragon’s hand. 

“That’s it! I’m driving!” Anna screamed while grabbing the keys and getting into the driver's seat. Everyone got in one by one as Anna started up the car. Once everyone was seated, Anna started driving. Literally, everyone was mumbling prayers because every time Anna drove, it ended in a disaster. This time, it didn’t end in disaster and they got to the restaurant safely. 

“Oh, thank goodness...” Katherine muttered as Anna parked the car. Everyone got out immediately, as they were starving. They all walking chatting about how they would be going to college in two days. Just the five of them, having fun together. What’s the worst that can happen?

______________________________________________________________

“Annie, you’ve got a table to serve!” Jack said as he walked over to Anne. 

“Please tell me this is the last table I have to serve tonight.....” Anne said, tiredness filling her voice. 

“It is! But it’s a table of five,” Jack said to her. 

“Which table is it?” Anne asked. 

“Table six,” Jack said. Anne laughed. 

“That’s sort of ironic!” She said while laughing. 

“Um...... Anne...... Can you help me quickly?” a girl called out from the bar. 

“Looks like I have to help Maggie, Jack. Can you tell the table that I’ll be there in a few minutes?” Anne asked. Jack nodded and walked away. Anne walked over to the bar and saw Maggie struggling to make a margarita. Maggie was a new girl helping Thomas with the bar and she was another one of Anne’s best friends. Maggie was actually a lady in waiting for Anne! She just started today but she claimed that she has never made a margarita in her entire life. Well, in her entire AFTERLIFE. “What is it, Maggie?” Anne asked. 

“What was the next step?” Maggie asked, slightly embarrassed. 

“Do you want me to show you?” Anne asked, taking the glass Maggie was holding. 

“Please,” Maggie said. Anne nodded and proceeded to teach Maggie how to make a margarita.

______________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry for the delay but your waitress might come a few minutes late. Is that alright with you, ladies?” A young man said to the five queens. 

“That’s alright! We have all night!” Jane said, reassuringly. 

“If you want to know where she is, she’s right over there. The one at the bar, wearing a choker,” said the guy before walking away. All the girls look over and they were shocked. 

“Kat, am I seeing things or is that...” Jane started to say but she was cut off by Aragon. 

“Anne Boleyn....” Aragon said in disbelief. Everybody kept silent as they watched the Boleyn girl helping a girl who seemed somewhere near her age. 

“Should we stop staring at her?” Parr asked the others. 

“Probably,” Anna said, finally looking away. Aragon also looked away, but Katherine and Jane kept staring at the Boleyn girl. 

“Is that really her, Jane?” Katherine asked. 

“Probably, Kat,” Jane told her younger cousin. That’s when they saw Anne walking away from the bar. 

“I think she’s coming over here now!” Katherine said, worried. Everybody just started doing the first thing they could think of. Aragon, Jane, and Parr just started having a random conversation and Anna and Katherine were playing on their phones. 

“Sorry for the delay!” Anne said before setting down the menus on the table. “My name is Anne and I’ll be your wai.....” Anne started to say but trailed off as she realized who she was serving. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Anne thought. I’m screwed, I’m fucking screwed, Anne continued to think. She took a deep breath and continued to speak. “..... and I’ll be your waitress tonight,” Anne finished off. “I’ll be back when you guys are ready to order!” Anne said in relief before she walked away. “This will not be easy......” Anne muttered as she went back to the bar. 

______________________________________________________________

~*~ Timeskip: 9 minutes ~*~

______________________________________________________________

“Damnit, damnit, damnit!” Anne whispered as she banged her head against the bar’s counter. “Why did the night have to end like this?” Anne asked herself. 

“Because we work here....?” Thomas said in an almost asking voice. Anne rolled her eyes. 

“Shut up,” Anne muttered. Anne finally lifted up her head and saw a shot glass in front of her. “What’s this?” Anne asked as she took the glass. 

“It’s whiskey. You might need it, Annie,” Maggie said. Anne smiled. 

“Thanks. And you’re right, I think I do need it,” Anne said before she downed the whiskey. She felt the liquor run down her throat and it burned. She liked the way whiskey burned her throat. “Well, I better see if they’re ready to order,” Anne said, hopping off the barstool she was sitting on. 

“Good luck, Annie,” Thomas and Maggie said at the same time. “Thanks!” Anne said as she walked off. “I’ll need plenty of it.....”

______________________________________________________________

The five queens stayed silent as they were looking through the menu. They already decided what they were going to eat like.......... Three minutes ago. And yet why are they still looking at the menus? They were trying to figure out what to do or say when Anne came back for their orders. “So............” Anna said, trying to break the silence. 

Aragon sighed and said, “What are we going to do?” Everybody sighed. They all stayed in silence for another few minutes until Anne came back. 

“So....... Are you girls ready to order?” Anne said in the most awkward way possible. The five of them stiffly nodded. The girls said their orders and Anne wrote them down. It all ended in a matter of minutes but to all six of them, it felt like a decade has flown by. As soon as Anne finished writing down their orders, she gave a small smile and quickly walked away. The girls let out a breath of relief. 

“Thank goodness that’s over,” Aragon said. Jane, Anna, and Katherine nodded in agreement. Parr didn’t seem to have a problem with all of this. She liked the Boleyn girl. Wait, as a friend? Or as a... I don’t know anymore, Catherine thought. She kept on thinking for the next 25 minutes. 

“Cath, you ok?” Jane asked, worried for Catherine. 

“Yeah. Why?” asked Parr. 

“You’ve been quiet for, like, 30 minutes,” Anna said. 

“Anna, it’s been 25 minutes,” Katherine said. 

“Well, I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all,” Parr said. The others nodded, glad that Parr wasn’t dead. Even though they were already dead. 

“What do we do now?” Aragon asked. All of them shrugged and just continued what they were doing before Anne came.

______________________________________________________________

~*~ Timeskip to when they are already paying for dinner because I don’t want this story to be too long- ~*~

______________________________________________________________

“How much is it, Jane?” Katherine asked as Jane looked at the receipt. 

“59 dollars and 69 cents,” Jane said after a careful examination of the receipt. 

“Do we pay for what we ate?” Anna asked. 

“Yes, Anna. We always do that,” Jane said. Anna nodded and the took a look at the receipt. Everyone took a look at the receipt, got out their purses, and took out the amount of money they had to pay for. 

“Wait..... Who’s giving it to her?” Aragon asked. 

“Not it!” said four of the girls. Who was the one that didn’t say it? Catherine Parr. Catherine sighed, took the money, and then walked away. Catherine found Anne and walked up to her. 

“Here,” Catherine said. 

“Oh! Ok, let me just get change,” Anne said but Catherine stopped her. 

“Keep the change,” She said. Anne gave her a small smile. 

“Thanks,” Anne said. 

“Hey, do you have a piece of paper?” asked Catherine. Anne nodded and just gave Catherine her notepad. Catherine flipped to a clean page, wrote something down, and gave it back to Anne. Anne looked at what Catherine wrote and she saw it was a phone number. “Call me. I’ll always answer,” Catherine said before giving Anne a small smile. Anne blushed at what she said. 

“T-Thanks!” Anne said. Catherine then waved goodbye and walked away. Anne ripped out the page and put it in her pocket. “Did...... Did I just get someone’s phone number?” Anne asked herself. 

“Apparently, Anne!” Maggie said from behind her. Anne jumped up in fear. 

“How- How long were you there?” Anne asked, confused. 

“When I heard, ‘Call me. I’ll always answer,’“ Maggie said. 

“Annie’s got a date!~” Maria said in a sing-song voice. 

“S-Shut up!” Anne said while blushing.

______________________________________________________________

Welp, that’s the end! I hope you guys liked it! Should I make this a series? Leave your opinions...... Somewhere on my page-

[onewaywardwitch]

Just A Typo (6/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2275

A/N: I’m so happy to finally get to post this part! I’ve been most excited for this one. Thanks for all the love on the previous parts, enjoy part 6!

If someone had told me a month ago that I'd be spending my days working as the security analyst for Stark Industries and my nights chatting with the Avengers, I'd have asked how much they had to drink. It's amazing how an illegal act can completely turn your life around, and not in the ‘sent to prison’ sense.

Fortunately for me, Wanda took me under her wing. She was determined to have another female presence around in a tower overflowing with testosterone and I wasn’t complaining. I appreciated her company just as much as she did.

Everyone was far more welcoming. Well, almost everyone. Natasha still seemed adamant on ignoring me. But with Sam constantly joking around with me, it was easier to forget about it. I had become a common visitor of the residents upstairs and I loved getting to know their actual personalities rather than the superhero personas the world had grown so used to seeing. Like how Tony won’t speak to anyone before his morning coffee. Or how Bruce has to be brought food throughout the day, or else he would simply forget to eat.

But Bucky remained an enigma that I couldn’t crack.

It wasn’t that we didn’t spend time together. We did. And many times, I enjoyed being near him more than some of the louder Avengers. We were never hanging out alone, though. He was a lot quieter when I was around, but I didn’t take it personally. He was obviously still a bit nervous being around anyone other than his teammates, but I liked to think that I was growing on him. At least he sat down and talked to me with everyone else now, instead of just running out of the room. And I adored having more than just two friends. The top floor had quickly become a second home to me.

~~~~~

I ran my hand through my hair for what felt like the seventh time in five minutes. For some reason, the system I was planning on installing for Stark Industries was not cooperating with me. I was forced to keep changing around the algorithm and every new sequence was rejected, not working in the slightest. It didn’t help that I had already gone through a full pack of Haribo and had none left. Timothy, one of my co-workers with a strange love for the worst movies ever made, kept glancing at me every time I let out a frustrated groan. Whenever he looked over, he opened his mouth as if to ask me something, before closing it again. It didn’t take long for me to snap.

“If you’ve got something to say spit it out. You look like a fish doing that.” I should have felt bad for snapping at him. He was a nice enough person, and I had been informed by the secretary down the hall that he harboured a small crush for me. Unfortunately for him, I was prepared to pick a fight with anyone. He just happened to be on the receiving end of it.

“I, um, I was just wondering if you... if you needed a hand with whatever you're working on?” he asked me, nervously wringing his hands.

I stared blankly at him. My lack of response caused his expression to change from slightly hopeful yet nervous, to absolutely terrified.

Stop it, don’t be a bitch, he’s just being nice. You can do this, politely decline his offer. There's no need to make a scene.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Well, that didn’t work.

“Am I not capable of doing it myself now, huh? I can do it perfectly fine. The system is stupid, that’s all. I don’t need your help because you'll end up pissing me off even more than you already have.”

Wow, ok, enough. Close your mouth. Bite your tongue. Walk away. Do anything other than talking to him.

“And also, you are literally the only person in the world who actually likes ‘Sharknado’.”

Why? Why would you say that? You absolute idiot.

I turned back to the computer that I was incredibly close to smashing as I ignored Tim’s deflated expression. He moved back to continue on with whatever he was working on himself. I typed in new lines of code on my screen, praying that these would work. While I waited for the outcome, I started to feel a bit guilty. I was stressed about my job that I was really desperate not to lose and I was taking it out on whoever was closest to me, which just so happened to be Tim.

“Oh shit!”

The second I turned to apologise, I felt hand on my shoulder, scaring the absolute crap out of me.

“Sorry! I called your name and you didn’t answer. You looked deep in thought,” Bucky said uncertainly. I instantly relaxed in his presence and chuckled.

“It's ok, my fault anyway. I should have been paying attention to what was going on around me. It just gets interesting up here sometimes,” I tapped my head as I spoke.

Great, now he thinks you're a lunatic.

Bucky offered me a small smile, which I had come to expect from him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tim. I tried to ignore him. I really did. When he first saw Bucky come over to me his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. That look of awe turned to one of amusement when he saw me make a complete fool out of myself. I stared pointedly at him until he got the message and returned to his computer. Bucky raised his eyebrows at me, and I shook my head in reply.

So much for Tim’s apology.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Um, Tony sent me to get you. He wanted to talk to you about, er… something computer related, I think.”

“He could have called me, you know. You didn’t have to come all the way down here.”

“He wanted me to get you in person. Plus, I had to talk to someone down in communications anyway.”

I nodded and got up to leave with Bucky, completely forgetting about the system that had me wound up only minutes ago.

~~~~~

Why does elevator music always make everything so uncomfortable and awkward? I was desperately searching for a way to fill the silence but for once in my life my mind was blank. I heard Bucky mumble something, seemingly to himself. I brushed it off before he spoke up more confidently.

“I like your jumper.”

I swear, I had never turned red so quickly. It felt like my whole face was on fire. How did everything he say make me feel so giddy?

“Thanks! But it's actually my friend, Angie’s. She left it at my apartment a few days ago and I haven’t had a chance to return it yet. I don’t know why I said that, it's a lie. She forgot it at mine over a year ago and I really like it.” I didn’t think I could blush any harder. I was wrong.

“You're really close with your two friends, huh?” Bucky questioned. I relaxed quickly. I always found it easier to talk about anything that wasn’t about me directly.

“They're complete idiots, but I love them. They're my family. I'd be lost without them. I mean, Becca’s good fun and Angie is our designated babysitter most of the time.”

He let out a low laugh. “I guess I know how she feels. I'm always running around after Steve, trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”

“Really?”

Bucky also seemed more at ease with the direction the conversation had taken. “It was worse back in the 40’s though. He was picking fights left, right, and centre. There was no super soldier serum to help him back then. He was just a kid with good intentions and twig-like arms.”

The ding of the elevator interrupted our chat. We stepped out, but I paused before we walked any further. Bucky turned to question me, and I stared open-mouthed at him.

“God, I was such a bitch to Tim!” I exclaimed suddenly, Bucky looking at me in surprise. “He was just trying to help me, and I-.“ I couldn’t even finish my sentence as I was overcome by fit of giggles. “I told him that nobody likes ‘Sharknado’ except for him!”

“Shark what?”

“Have you never heard of ‘Sharknado’? We have to watch it! It's a terrible film.”

“If it's so bad why do I have to watch it?”

“Because, it's a good bad movie. You watch it knowing it's going to be terrible and then you just give out about it afterwards. The full 21st century experience,” I explained to a very perplexed superhero. “Let’s go, best not to leave his royal highness waiting.”

~~~~~

Turns out Tony had summoned me to ask a single question about my work, before requesting advice on the nicest cafés in the area to bring Pepper to. We spent nearly an hour arguing over which is nicer, pancakes or waffles. He refused to accept the fact that pancakes are clearly superior and resorted to folding his arms and huffing like a child.

I finally made a move to leave when Tony told me he had some Avengers business to attend to.

“Next time you want a chat,” I said to him as I put on my jacket,” just give me a call. You didn’t need to send poor Bucky all the way down to me. He probably has better things to be doing.”

Tony snorted. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? He volunteered to get you. The second I mentioned I needed to talk to you, he all but ran off to find you.”

I scoffed and chose to ignore what Tony had said. “Bye, Mario!” I yelled back to him, making sure to close the door on his sounds of annoyance.

~~~~~

Some people can sense bad things just before it happens. Hairs standing on the back of your neck, chills down your spine. Some sort of sixth sense, I guess. Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of those people.

I was sitting in my empty, broken bathtub with my laptop, as you do, when I heard the crash. My head shot up immediately, staring at my bathroom door that I had left slightly ajar.

“It's nothing, you're imagining things.” I tried to convince myself I was hearing things until I heard what I assumed was one of my mugs crashing to the ground.

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, and I willed myself to calm down. Placing my laptop carefully aside as quietly as I possibly could, I crawled out of the bath and creeped my way towards the door.

I peered my head out, nervously chewing on my lower lip. It was only a matter of seconds before I gasped and closed the door in panic. I made sure to do so silently and I held a hand over my mouth to control the ragged breaths that I could no longer control.

With shaking hands, I locked the door and took out my phone that felt stuck in my pocket. My only focus was calling the first person that popped into my head.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered, begging for a small ounce of luck.

“Miss me already?”

I sighed in relief. “Tony, there’re people in my apartment. Can you- can you send someone over please. I'm kind of panicking.”

There was a momentary pause and a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone before-

“Y/N listen to me. You need to get out of there right now. We’ll be there as fast as we can. Can you get to your front door?”

“I can’t, they’ll see me.”

“Shit,” I heard Tony breath out. “Alright, odds are they’re looking for your laptop so hang tight, hopefully they won’t be looking for you.

I groaned internally and stared at my laptop that I had forgotten about in the bath. Just my luck.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work. My laptop is with me.”

“You bring your laptop to the bathroom?”

“Some people bring their phones, I bring my laptop. Stop judging me.”

Tony decided to ignore my last comment, instead informing me that they were on their way. He asked if I could still hear the people in my apartment.

“Um, no, I don’t think I- “

The bang on the bathroom door made me jump and I clutched the phone tighter. I covered my mouth with my hand, willing myself to stop shaking. A second bang, and I took a few steps backwards slowly. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the door that I knew wouldn’t withstand much more. It took me a few seconds to realise that Tony had been shouting my name.

“Tony,” I whispered,” please tell me you’re nearby.”

I could hear him talking to someone else, his impatient tone not doing anything to reassure me.

“Still 10 minutes out, kid.”

Before Tony could even finish his sentence, the door came crashing down. I screamed, trying to shield my eyes from the splintered wood.

A man dressed entirely in black tactical gear made a move to grab me, and I dropped my phone in a panic.

“TONY!” I screamed. My attempt to remove myself from his grip was futile. He had grabbed my body and dragged me to where the rest of his team were waiting in my now destroyed kitchen. I was so distracted that I didn’t notice the fist that flew towards my face before everything went black.

Taglist (open):

(if there’s a strike through your name it means I couldn’t tag you)

(if I forgot to tag you just send me a message)

@amybarter15 @imperialoath @throw-some-music-my-way @mamaraptor @marbleowl @lydklein1 @wantingtobekorra @alysawrites @uhholyhazza @ladymelissastark @sarcasm-n-insomnia @foxylupines @myrabbitholetoneverland @amazingficsthatididnotwrite @markusstraya @padfootormoose @worldofchoices @just-some-stuff-in-life @colie87 @catsandbooksinafarawayplace @littleblackdressxx @thequirkypeach @astronomicparker @asguardiansoftheavengers @awesome-alysia @sebbystanlover-vk @unknownwonder @wowstiless @d-eracine

[acuppellarp]

Welcome (again) to A Cup-pella, Leigh! We’re excited to have you and Sage LeBlanc in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours. 

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Leigh, she/her Age: 27 Timezone: EST Ships: Sage/Chemistry Anti-Ships: Sage/Forced

IC INFO

Full Name: Alessandra Sage “Sage” LeBlanc Face Claim: Vanessa Morgan Age/Birthday: 27/November 1 Occupation: Crime analyst for the NYPD Personality: Blunt, nihilistic, frigid, whip-smart, irritable Hometown: New Orleans, Louisiana Bio:

From the time she was born, Alessandra LeBlanc was too smart for her own good. As the younger of the LeBlanc sisters, Alessandra couldn’t have asked for a better childhood. While she grew up in a rural part of Louisana, her father was a famous jazz musician and moved the family to New Orleans when his band started catching a big break.

Alessandra loved living in New Orleans. There was so much culture, history, and folklore surrounding the town that she couldn’t help but get swept up in it. She would listen to stories about voodoo, Marie Laveau, ghost hunting, and of the incredible food. She and her sister, Alison, took the most pleasure in roaming the streets in the afternoons, listening to music pour out of the restaurants on Bourbon Street. Mardi Gras was a party that resulted in their mother cooking and baking up a storm.

Family was everything to Alessandra. First, her mother Rebecca, a wise and kind woman with soft eyes and an even softer heart, who worked as a cleaning woman in the local hotel. But she could bake, and she could play the piano. She’d often play the piano for Shaw, the patriarch of the household, who was a wizard on the tenor saxophone, and whose career in music was supposed to drive them from the slums to easy street. Then there was Alison, who embodied all of the best possible qualities of both parents. She was every bit of the perfect older sister to Alessandra– the guardian, the protector. They were happy, and family always came first.

Tragedy struck Alessandra over the course of two years, one after the other. Alessandra never saw either of them coming, but shortly after she turned twelve years old, she and her parents buried her fifteen year old sister after a terminal illness caught too late, to the point where nothing more could be done. Alessandra felt so lost in the world after that, and it’s where she started to flounder. Her dad stopped playing jazz. Her mom started resorting to take out. The streets of New Orleans had lost its magic, but the family wouldn’t be there for much longer.

When Katrina hit, Alessandra was in eighth grade, and her parents made the wise decision to move away from Louisana and into lower New York State, instead. Alessandra’s mother had family in the greater New York area, and it seemed like a good decision at the time. This was when she started going by Sage instead– new life, new name, right? Any hope of making something new for herself faded away. Unfortunately, they moved into a community where children had been friends since they were in diapers, and a sullen, moody, pink-haired child wasn’t exactly on the top of everyone’s list to be friends with.

Between Alison’s passing and being displaced from her home, Sage never quite bounced back from the charismatic, know-it-all that she once was. No more would she run up to her teachers and ask if they wanted to hear about a math proof, or a fun fact. She kept to herself and lost herself in a world of books. Other people’s stories distracted her from her own, and she was found getting in trouble in class for reading books when she should have been paying attention. Even when Sage would be randomly called on, she could always come up with the right answer. Sage had the curse of being smart and being bored.

This was why nobody was even remotely surprised when Sage graduated as the valedictorian of her class, with a full-ride scholarship to Columbia University. She majored in Criminal Studies with a minor in Women’s Literature. Part of Sage wanted to go ahead and pursue a law degree, but people aren’t really her thing. She’s much better off behind the scenes, analyzing data and helping to solve crimes in that manner.

Sage is heavy– mentally, emotionally. She isn’t friendly, and she isn’t kind. She’s not like her mother and never learned enough from her sister on how to face the world with a smile. Instead, Sage relies on her ability to push people away in order to get by. One might think that she wouldn’t thrive in an environment like Acuppella Cafe, because it is a place that thrives on community and togetherness. The cafe has given Sage just that– a community of people who understand her (and plenty of those who don’t) as well as some of her best friends in New York City.

Pets: An adopted Bengal cat named Nefertari. Sage is convinced that this cat is a reincarnation of the famed Egypitan queen. She’ll bend over backwards to tell you that, too.

Relationships:

Haley Sterling

Roommate. Sage can’t stand her, if she’s being completely honest, because Haley is far too peppy and happy for her own good. Sage thinks she’s a six year old child trapped in an adult body, and she has no patience for it. Sage tries to avoid her roommate as much as humanly possible.

Scout Solano

While these two don’t seem to have much in common on the surface, they’ve fallen into a benefits situation. Calling them friends might be a bit far. Sage thinks Scout is absolutely gorgeous and has no trouble admitting that, but she’d much prefer Scout with her mouth shut. Or occupied.

Darcy Allen

Best friends. There is absolutely nothing that Sage loves more than being able to sit in complete silence with someone and know that things are good. They’ll go on a hike, read a book, one of them will crack a joke, rinse and repeat. Sage would kill and die for her.

Naomi Puckerman

In order, the top three things that Sage cannot stand: overly flirtatious people, people who feel the need to constantly mention how hot they are, and people who vanish from their job for six months and leave the weird post-nasal drip dude with pocket protectors as the only person for Sage to talk to. Puck? Puck is all three of them. They work together for the NYPD and while Sage isn’t completely offended by Puck’s existence, she finds the other woman very hilarious. She’d deny it under oath, though.

Rachel Berry

Sage and Rachel bonded over having similar diets, and woefully looking inside the Acup pastry case. The two will often go out to lunch together and share their exercise habits and dietary tips.

EXTRA INFO

your worst nightmare/queensageoftheunderworld/i take hot showers to practice burning in hell:

Five latest tweets:

@queensageoftheunderworld: no one: literally no one: absolutely no one: men: I KNOW HOW TO WRITE STRONG FEMALE CHARACTERS!!!!!!! @queensageoftheunderworld: idc if it takes away my gold star gay card, spencer reid can fucking get it. @queensageoftheunderworld: guess who booked her next vacation to venice? poveglia island, here i come. @queensageoftheunderworld: pink hair, don’t care #imgoingpurplenext @queensageoftheunderworld: my apartment is haunted. check the thread below for all the details. makes dear daniel look like a kid’s bedtime story tbh

[readyplayerhobi]

A Constellation Of Fires | 01

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, fluff, future smut

; Word Count: 12k

; Warnings: Mentions of scarring

; Synopsis: Vulcan Industries, a titan in the world of technological inventions that have helped humanity progress. Despite its influence though, their CEO remains a mystery to the world, content to simply invent in the shadows. That is, until a journalist uncovers the mystery that connects a simple car mechanic to the technology giant.

; Greek Gods Series

Hades; Poseidon; Zeus; Hephaestus; Artemis; Athena; Ares;

01 | 02

-

“Excitement today as Vulcan Industries revealed its newest product, a revolutionary mobile phone that incorporates ful 3D holograms. The surprising reveal far exceeds what industry experts had been predicting and represents a huge leap in technological advancements, with Vulcan Industries highlighting that a subsection unit has been developed directly for the health industry, allowing for completely sterile interactions with patient files and more.

 “Industry analysts are reporting that Vulcan Industries stocks have risen by 5% at the news that has sent shockwaves through the technology industry.” Sitting back in your uncomfortable office chair, the back long since broken on it meaning it was at an odd angle which often caused back ache, you eyed your laptop as the perfectly coiffed woman read out the hottest news story in a while.

 Accompanied with the news anchors voice was footage of the reveal, taken at a news conference at the Vulcan Industries headquarters in Northern California. It was justifiably awe inspiring, watching the assistant bring out a mobile phone and with a few button presses, everything on the screen leapt up into the air and was projected perfectly, from documents to a few basic games Vulcan had created.

 After this, those attending were invited to play around with the holograms, moving things around and flipping through screens by simply flicking their fingers in the air. It boggled your mind how they’d done it, and you had no doubt that it was boggling every other industry as well. This was truly science fiction technology that was only ever seen in film or on shows, but what did anyone expect from Vulcan Industries?

 They’d always been decades ahead of everyone else, all thanks to their mysterious CEO who was credited with the biggest inventions they created. While they had plenty of inventors who had produced hundreds of smaller technological advancements, such as the latest in television screens and so forth, it was the reclusive CEO who created the biggest news worthy inventions.

 Every piece of technology created had an original purpose for a certain industry, such as this 3D hologram technology being created to allow medical staff in hospitals and laboratories across the world to use screens without having to touch anything, allowing for 100% sterile technology.

 The medical holograms were also being used in conjunction with current Vulcan technology found in hospitals that allowed for completely 3D scans of bodies, allowing doctors and surgeons to view breaks or tumours and so forth. With the addition of holograms, surgeons could now overlay the scan above a person during a surgery and provide real time imaging of what was happening.

 Modifying the technology for mobile phones was simply a way to bring it to the general population, allowing this to fund the larger scale productions. The sheer genius and skills of the Vulcan CEO made him, or her, a very wanted person and yet they shunned the limelight, allowing others in the company to take over.

 Even in depth searches into the history of the company, or rooting through legal documents about the companies ownership, simply resulted in pseudonyms such as Hope Justice or Heff Jackson, making the hermit-like CEO one of the biggest mysteries in the world.

 It’s only when you register your boss calling your name that your attention is diverted, leading you to poking your head up over the top of the section divider and looking into his glass fronted office. He gestures towards you, signalling that he wants to talk with you.

 Grabbing your notebook and a pen, you lock your screen before shuffling into his office. Hopefully this isn’t getting your ass reamed out for failing to land the big scoop about Vulcan Industries, he’d put you on the job months ago when the rumblings that they had something big incoming began.

 But really, this wasn’t your fault. Literally no one saw this coming, not even the other tech companies. Vulcan hadn’t even been rumoured to be experimenting with holograms, the last you’d heard was some rumours about satellites that would generate solar power and somehow feed it back to Earth. It made your brain hurt and from the sounds of it, made the experts brains hurt too.

 Nodding your head to Donghae, you quickly sit yourself in the chair opposite him and open your notebook ready to jot down any notes that are important. He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes focused on the large flat screen situated on some drawers to your right. It’s on the same news channel you’d been watching, the sound silenced while subtitles pop up a few seconds after the anchor speaks.

 It’s still showing the new Vulcan announcement and your stomach sinks slightly. Your ass is going to be chapped by the time you leave here; you just know it. Donghae hates being late on the news.

 “Donghae, I’m really sorry that I didn’t catch this. I’ll try harder next time I swear, I think I have an in with the company now-“ Your pre-emptive apology gets stopped though when he lifts up a hand, a contemplative look on his face.

 “It doesn’t matter, it’s already done now. And quite clearly Vulcan had this shit on lockdown; I doubt anyone got wind of this happening,” he rubs his chin slowly before leaning back, the cushy executive chair cushioning his back as it squeaks slightly from his weight. “But I think we need to change gears. Instead of focusing on the company, maybe we should try and focus on the person behind the scenes.”

 Your eyes widen as you look back up at him, shock clearly evident on every inch of your face. “Are you kidding? Go after the CEO? Literally no one has ever gotten close, what makes you think I could get anywhere near?” He was deluded if he thought you could get this answer.

 “You’re my best investigative journalist, you already said that you have an inside mole in the company right? Work it, find out who it is. I have faith in you.” You’re not entirely sure why he has faith in you. If you couldn’t find out that Vulcan was developing hologram technology, how on earth where you going to find out whom the elusive CEO was?

 “If you do it, this will be the expose of the century. Everyone across the world would want this scoop. Even better, I’ll give you a 7k pay rise and a 10k bonus if you get this. Your job would be more than secure forever.” He leans forward and rests his chin on his entwined fingers, mouth turning up in a smile that you’re positive he thinks is persuasive, but instead is coming off slightly sinister.

 You freeze for a moment before answering, hesitant and unsure suddenly. Unveiling the CEO of Vulcan Industries was as juicy a news story as any journalist could ever hope for and it would propel your career skyward, but at the same time your morals were arguing with each other fervently.

 The devil on your right shoulder was pointing out that you were a journalist, it was your job to uncover news and the stories that people wanted to keep hidden. The CEO’s identity was news that the world was desperate to know.

 But the angel on your left was vehemently pointing out that people had a right to privacy, and the CEO had quite clearly asked for that by making it so hard to find out who they were. It’s with more than a little shame that the journalist in you won out, deciding silently to yourself that it was unfair for this crazy rich and talented individual to stay unheralded when there were likely thousands, if not millions, of people worldwide who would love to thank the mystery inventor for improving or saving their lives.

 Besides, it’s not like they’ve done a crime or anything right?

 “Okay, I’ll work on it. No time frame though; this might take a long time. And I might never find out so don’t get annoyed if I produce nothing.” Donghae nods and a sly grin spreads on his face, letting you know that he’s already thinking of the fame and dollars that will come his way if you succeed.

 On the other hand, you leave his office feeling slightly sick from a guilt you can’t push away. Taking one last glance at the television screen playing the news, you swallow thickly as you pray that you’ve made the right choice.

  It was a good job that you’d made it clear to Donghae that it might take a while, as seven months later you’ve still found almost nothing. Your mole in the company is proving to be distinctly unhelpful, telling you that the CEO doesn’t even visit the headquarters and instead has video conferences with the Board of Directors and any communication is sent through his assistant, who serves as his proxy in the building.

 You have found out however, that it would seem like the abstract boss is apparently completely uninterested in how the company is run except that it’s run in the interest of the people. The employees have ridiculous benefits, even by Californian company standards. Even the cleaners are given top-of-the-line premium healthcare and dental and each person is given at least 10 stocks of the company that can be sold once they leave.

 Employees with children are given a college fund with $20,000 in it for each child and if an employee dies, their family is paid their salary plus 50% for ten years. Honestly, it makes you think that you’re in the wrong job.

 Not only that, but the company was obligated to give 10% of all profits to charity, with 10 charities chosen each year by their employees across the world. It had been a leader in adopting full scale recycling and trying to turn completely green, all at the behest of the CEO.

 If you weren’t trying to uncover their identity, you’d be in awe of them in all honesty. But it’s after these long months that you finally make a break through when your mole informs you that all company owned vehicles have to be serviced at a specific car shop.

 The shop is in some little throwaway town about two hours away from the headquarters near the mountains, which confused you initially. Surely the company had a whole host of mechanics that could work on them? But apparently not, which immediately made you wonder what made this little shop so special, particularly as it didn’t even have a website or anything.

 After informing Donghae of your discovery, he allows you to leave to do some further investigation into the car shop, which is how you find yourself standing outside an old looking, but incredibly clean and well-maintained garage. It’s quiet outside, with no cars passing by and from your position in the car park, standing next to your piece of crap car; you can see that there’s a respectable looking house hidden down a road behind the garage.

 The mechanic must live there as well, indicating that this place must be his, or her, pride and joy. Fingers tightening on the strap of your bag, you move towards the door that enters into a little waiting area, blue plastic chairs looking well used but more than serviceable.

 Plain white walls surround you, decorated with diagrams of cars and a couple of posters of some supercars. There’s a few magazines piled haphazardly on a low table in the centre, the contents ranging from cars to beauty to nature, ensuring that they cater for a wide audience.

 There’s a counter to your left with a bookcase piled high with files behind it. A dark green door next to this no doubt leads through to the garage, through which you can hear a radio playing music loudly, the beats loud and pounding to the extent that you can feel the vibrations from here.

 On the counter is an old school bell, which causes your eyebrow to rise in disbelief as you look from it to the door. How the hell is anyone supposed to hear that tiny ass thing when it sounds like Glastonbury is playing next door?

 Still, you walk over and bring your hand down on the little bell with amusement, the little chime sounding loud to you but unless the mechanic has the ears of a bat then it’s useless.

 You’re immediately proven a fool though when the music cuts out in the garage behind the door and a female voice that sounds ever so slightly robotic calls out clearly over the speakers.

 “Customer waiting.”

 Looking down at the bell with surprise, you look it over for any wires that may be connecting it to some system. For a moment you think this is all just a little big high tech for a tiny mechanics shop in the middle of nowhere, but then you remember that this is the chosen place to repair all the cars of Vulcan Industries.

 And from what you’ve learnt, their cars are the crème de la crème of the car world, just like every other industry they enter. They’d succeeded with the first self-driving, eco-friendly cars to be approved for sale. Given the amount of tech that goes into their cars, it should only make sense that they likely pay this mechanic by the bucket loads.

 He or she’s probably got more than a few things that are probably at the cutting edge of technology back in there, all courtesy of Vulcan Industries.

 The door opens finally, giving you a glimpse of what looks to be a standard car garage, with a black Vulcan Fuego sedan currently up in the air on a stand to allow a mechanic underneath without worry of injury. Industrial sized brackets are held up against the wall, with tubs of car parts stashed in each one and even from here you can see that they are all carefully labelled.

 What little you can see soon vanishes though as a man walks through the door, head down as he focuses on cleaning his hands with a grease soaked rag. Clad in a t-shirt that you’re sure was white once but is instead now a grimy grey that is streaked with lubricant and black jeans that you’re sure are used to hide the stains he gains constantly.

 His feet are firmly placed into a pair of grubby and scuffed brown work boots, no doubt with a steel toe in each to try and prevent, or at least offset, any injuries that could potentially happen. Throwing the towel over his shoulder back into the garage, the mystery mechanic finally looks up and you find yourself feeling rather like the towel, thrown for a loop.

 Black hair that is subtly highlighted with red shines in the artificial lighting that has been designed to simulate sunlight, messy and wild as if he’s been running his fingers through it constantly in frustration. Some of the strands are stuck together, partially from the car oil and grease that patterns his arms like a mechanics camouflage and partially from the sweat that is currently running down his face and neck.

 This region of California is currently experiencing a heat wave, and a physically intensive job like a car mechanic is bound to be even worse in these kinds of conditions, no matter how fancy your garage is.

 It’s as he wipes away the wet strands, simultaneously streaking grime across his forehead with the back of his hand as he does so, that you get a good look at his face. A strong and sharp jawline led up to prominent cheekbones that make you think of some of the most famous statues in history, only they pale when compared to this ethereal beauty found in a car garage of all places.

 As he turns his head to close the door behind him, you get a glimpse of an arresting side profile that is dominated by a sloping nose, turned up slightly towards the tip. It’s as he turns back around that you see it sits firmly in the centre of two warm eyes, their shade so unusual that you find yourself staring without meaning to.

 Around the outer iris is a rich brown, reminding you of mahogany almost with the reddish tint, which then bleeds into a vibrant hazel in the centre that makes you think of a wolf.

 You’ve never been able to see someone’s eye colour so clearly before, particularly with dark coloured eyes but here he is with eyes that demand attention. He has gentle eyes, you decide, gentle and soft but more than a little wary despite the bright smile that takes over his face at the sight of a potential customer.

 Reaching out towards you, he offers his hand in greeting. “Hello, sorry about that, music makes it easier to work.  I’m Jung Hoseok, I own this place and I’m also the head mechanic. Do you need some work doing on your car?”

 Taking his hand, your gaze is brought down to his arms and you can see immediately why he’s so wary despite his welcoming grin and effervescent personality.

 His arms are currently bare, the skin almost glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat and veins prominent amongst muscles that speak of hard work and effort. But along his right arm is a prominent scar, pale against the darkened gold of his tanned skin, the shape of which indicates to you it was caused by fire or at the very least something very hot.

 His hands and various points of his left arm also feature various scarring, and along the left side of his face from his cheekbone down to his throat is rough tissue that has long since healed. While he gives no indication of acknowledgement about the scars except for the hand he’s not holding out fisting slightly, it’s the hesitance in his kind eyes that gives away that he’s likely been treated badly because of this before.

 Pulling your eyes quickly from his arms, you flush lightly with embarrassment and can’t help but wince in shame at being caught staring by him as you turn your attention to the counter between the two of you. You haven’t even said hello to the guy and you’re being unbelievably rude and insensitive.

 “Oh er, yeah I think…maybe yeah. It’s been making this…rattling noise lately and I was just passing by and saw the sign and thought…maybe I should get it checked.” He’s let go of your hand now, crossing his arms over his chest in what you feel is protection but accidentally drags your eyes to the bulge of his biceps.

 Christ, you’re here on the hunt for a story not to eye-fuck the, admittedly insanely attractive, mechanic.

 Biting his lip between his teeth as his eyes run over the ceiling in concentration, he releases it slowly with a sigh that leaves you staring at the now wet, soft skin. You’re pulled away from the sheer distraction that was the pure visuals of this guy when he pulls out a phone from his pocket and lays it on the desk just below the counter.

 Any sight to his phone is lost as he does so and you don’t give it much more thought, figuring he’s probably checking out some information. That is until you hear a soft chime and suddenly the air in between the two of you is displaying what looks to be a calendar for the day with various time slots filled in.

 For him, the image is perfect but you’re seeing a mirrored version, meaning all the text is backwards. With a casual confidence that lets you know he’s more than well versed in this, totally brand new not even out on the market yet as Vulcan was still hyping it up, technology, he uses two fingers to move around some of the times as he re-organises his schedule.

 “Okay, I can take a look now for you if you’d like? I don’t know if I’ll find anything but it can’t hurt to look.” With his entire hand flat, he swipes downwards in a fluid motion and the holograms disappear with another gentle chime.

 He’s looking at you expectantly, his mesmeric face of perfect proportions open and honest, while you’re stuck staring at where his phone is. Leaning forward, you catch a glimpse of the sleek, black device and to you, it looks exactly like the newest phone Vulcan has released, the VU8.

 “Oh my god, isn’t that the new hologram tech from Vulcan? How have you…how did you? Holy shit that was so fucking cool!” You blurt out, internally cringing immediately at how you just sound like a fangirl of 12 instead of a journalist of 29.

 Hoseok flushes lightly, his tanned skin being brushed with soft pink before he ducks his head and pockets the phone quickly. “Ah, yeah. It is. I fix a lot of the cars for their stock fleet and they asked me to test one out ages ago. It’s pretty useful.”

 His voice trails off and it’s patently clear that he’s uncomfortable about the conversation. You tamper down your excitement when you figure that it’s because he’s currently holding tech that no one else in the world has commercially yet.

 As you hand him your car keys and watch him leave, totally not admiring the flex of his thighs as he crouches next to your car, that was old 20 years ago, to give it a quick look over and most definitely not letting out a little groan when he bends over the engine which allows his jeans to mould perfectly to his ass, you wonder what makes this mechanics garage so important.

 Not only do they have the exclusive contract to fixing all of the cars that Vulcan own on the West Coast, but also the owner is deemed important enough that he gets access to one of the most impressive feats of technology realised in the last few years? No, there’s something going on here and you’re going to figure it out. The eye candy outside is just a bonus.

 Tugging your eyes from his physique, you run them along the waiting room one more time. It looks perfectly normal, perhaps a little too clean for a car garage but there’s nothing that screams why he’s so important.

 In fact, after wandering around a little and giving everything a much more closer perusal, including the files that you can see from your position, you realise that there is zero reference to anything from Vulcan Industries here.

 The glass door opening causes you to jump away from the counter, hands flying behind your back in what you’re 100% positive is not a suspicious manoeuvre, as Hoseok makes his way inside. Thankfully he wasn’t paying attention as he was more focused on wiping away some sweat off his brow; the sun was brutal today.

 Pointing behind him, his face twists in apology. “I’m really sorry, I could only do a quick visual scan and see what the engine sounds like. I couldn’t hear anything but I don’t have time to take a closer look at the moment as I have a car up in the garage that’s going to be collected in an hour.”

 Your hands are immediately gesturing out towards him in a placating manner while your own expression mirrors his apologetic one.

 “No, no it’s totally fine. It might just be something in the back rattling around, it hasn’t killed me yet right?” Giving a nervous giggle, you wonder desperately how you’re supposed to find out more information about this place if you don’t have an excuse to hang around more.

 “No way, I can’t let you drive that if you’re hearing noises from it. If something happened to you now because of it then I’d feel like it was my fault for being lazy. If it’s okay with you, you can leave it here overnight and I’ll give it a closer look at the end of the day? Should be ready tomorrow morning for you?” Well, it looks like Hoseok has given you the excuse you needed. Maybe there’s a god of journalism looking out for you or something.

 “Really? You’d do that? I mean I can pay extra if you want if it’s out of your normal work time.” Reaching into your bag, you rummage around for your wayward purse, ready to pull out the credit card. Immediately Hoseok is rushing over, a gentle hand pushing the purse back into your bag and you’re swallowing thickly at how close he is.

 If he was beautiful from afar, then he’s a vision sent from the heavens up close. He stands a whole head taller than you, which leaves you staring at his broad, toned chest until you’re shyly lifting your head to look into his unique eyes. If he wanted to, he could rest his chin neatly on your head.

 There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, the distance so minimal that you can feel his breathe on your skin with every exhale and smell the mint of the gum he’d been chewing, until he suddenly seems to realise your positions when he catches your eyes flickering over his face.

 He moves a few steps back quickly, turning his face from you. You think he was embarrassed because of how close you were, but it’s only as he brings up a hand to cover his cheek that you realise he’s mistaken your appreciation for his exquisite face for ogling of his scars.

 It makes you want to reach out in turn and gently pull his hand down, but you make no move. He’s obviously not comfortable with it and you don’t want to bring attention to something when his body is literally radiating tension right now.

 “It’s fine, you don’t have to pay anything extra. Just knowing you’re not going to potentially die is more than enough.” His words, slightly mumbled through his hand, bring a warmth to your stomach that takes a moment to fight with the guilt of knowing you’re going to investigate and potentially use this sweet and helpful guy.

 “Okay, if you’re sure about this? I saw a motel a little up the road so I’ll go check if they have vacancies. Do you need my number to contact me?” While you’re fully aware that he would need your number for work purposes, there’s an embarrassingly large part of you that is hoping he might use it for other purposes too.

 Scolding yourself internally, you try to shake yourself out of it. You can’t be hoping that this incredibly attractive yet sweet guy might get bored and want a booty call or something. Particularly not while you’re also intending to look closer into him. Ethics, remember the ethics.

 It’s much easier to remember ethics when they don’t look like a god come to life.

 Still, it’s hard to follow that line of thought when a look of such worry crosses over his face. “A motel? You’re not from round here? Oh I feel terrible, send me the bill and I’ll pay it. It’s my fault that I’m making you stay a night.”

 He’s scurrying behind the counter and you hear the sounds of stuff being moved around, before he’s suddenly lifting up a business card with a grin that tells you he’s currently yelling ‘A-HA!’ in his head. Turning to you, he holds it out and once you’ve got hold of it, he’s tapping the surface.

 Looking down at the card, you see that it’s pure white with the black and red logo of a volcano taking centre stage. Below that is the name of the garage, Vesuvius Mechanics, in elegant script. Underneath all this is his name, Jung Hoseok, along with a mobile number.

 “Tell Manny at the desk at the motel to bill it to me, show him this and he’ll understand. Oh err, can you write your number down for me? I’ll contact you tomorrow once it’s done. I swear I’ll try and do it fast.” Placing his card slowly into the card section in your purse, you can’t help but give him a smile.

 You’re half expecting him to offer his spare room with how much he’s going out of his way, and it makes the mystery of why one of the richest and most influential companies in the world goes to this affable mechanic who you feel would give the shirt of his back if you asked.

 Or at least find you a clean shirt that wasn’t covered in sweat and stains.

 “It’s okay Hoseok, honestly. I’m going to be in town for a few weeks anyway for my job. I’m a writer and I’m looking for some inspiration to break my block so, I’d be paying for the motel anyway.” He pauses at that, hand reaching behind his neck to rub it awkwardly.

 “Oh, well maybe you should try renting somewhere instead? The motel is great for one night but it gets pretty expensive you know. I can give you a list of people who would be willing to rent if you want. It’s a small community here but everyone’s happy to help if they can.” If they’re all like Jung Hoseok then you fully believe him.

 “Okay, I’ll look tonight. Thanks for your help, and I’m sorry if it turns out there is nothing wrong it and I’ve wasted your time.” You start heading back to the door, strangely unwilling to leave the magnetic pull of him but fully aware you need to otherwise it’s going to start getting weird.

 Leaning a hip against the counter, Hoseok gives another heart stopping grin to you as he lifts a hand in goodbye. “It’s fine, honest. I’m a mechanic; it’s kind of my job right?”

 Laughing, you nod your head in agreement and wave goodbye to him as well. Outside of the air-conditioned glory of the waiting room, the sun immediately begins to make you sweat from the oppressive heat that beats down and you let out a deep breath slowly, rolling your neck and shaking your shoulders.

 It’s only when you’re dragging your suitcase down the road to the motel, mentally cursing the fact that today had decided to feel like the inside of a volcano, when you suddenly realise you’re still smiling. Glancing back at the unobtrusive garage, the white walls gleaming in the sunlight, you tell yourself that it’s because you’re managed to finally get a break in your investigation and that the feeling in your stomach is because you’re onto something.

 It has nothing to do with the incredibly sweet man with the body physique of an Adonis, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’d spent the entire conversation with oil streaked over his cheek like a kid. No, it didn’t.

  The motel had been adequate, quite possibly everything one might expect a motel to be. Unsurprisingly, it had been mostly empty and you’d even been able to pick your room. Given the choice of car park or car park, you weren’t sure why they bothered.

 It had taken exactly ten minutes for you to realise you would be taking Hoseok up on his offer of helping you to rent a room somewhere.

 You’d been half convinced that sleeping on the floor would have been more forgiving on your back than the rock that was masquerading as a bed. Not to mention the Wi-Fi that had been so poor it had taken 5 minutes to load up one page. No, this simply wouldn’t work, and for a small motel in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere California, the price of a room was extortionate.

 Which was why you found yourself walking back over to the garage in the morning, after taking a quick detour at the little family run café, which had the best bacon and perfectly seasoned eggs you’d ever eaten in your life. The early morning sun was still warm, but there was a cool breeze that was flowing down from the far off mountain range.

 Lifting your head up to the gentle rays of sun, you paused for a moment before inhaling deeply. As someone who had lived in a city your entire life, the crisp and clean smell of the countryside felt both refreshing and revitalising. You loved the city, but the hustle and bustle could be too much sometimes and you fully understood why people would give that up to come somewhere like this.

 This was the kind of place that you could imagine people raising families in on those homey television shows, sending their kids to sports games and just living the suburban dream or something. Part of that made you shrink in horror at the sameness of everything but then another part of you wondered whether it would be nice to grow up here.

 The relative normalness of this tiny town, with its two main streets and family run stores made it even stranger as to why one of the biggest and most influential companies in the world chose to send their cars here. In towns like this, you could almost forget that cities exist at all.

 Opening your eyes, you let a little smile at the bright blue sky before taking in the garage in front of you. The big door that led into the actual garage itself was up and open as you walked closer, allowing you to see inside the workshop.

 It was incredibly clean; with the stone floors swept and only old oil stains that are likely impossible to remove marring it. White walls could be seen on all three sides with metal shelving everywhere, each shelf neatly segmented into boxes that contained certain parts and labelled clearly.

 There was no car up on the mechanism today, instead there was a Vulcan car parked in the centre of the garage with its hood up, revealing the complex engine interior that kept the car going. What surprised you though, was the group of teenagers standing in front of the car, peering inside as Hoseok points at something.

 “This is where you check the oil okay? Why is it important to check the oil in a car?” He asked, his voice kind but stern. It was only then that you noticed that there was an older woman sat off to the side, her face buried in a magazine and you realised that this must be a class from the local school.

 A gangly teenager with dark skin lifted his hand up and Hoseok nodded towards him encouragingly. “If you’re out of oil then it can damage the engine right?” The mechanic grinned and nodded, lifting up the oil stick for them to look at.

 “Yes that’s right. Consider the oil in your car like the blood in your veins. If you don’t have enough of it, your body can’t work properly. It’s exactly the same with the oil in a car. So, when you’re checking the oil you want to make sure that your car is turned off and the engine is cold, that’s purely for safety as you could burn yourself otherwise.” He went on to show them the entire inner workings of the engine and how to check for themselves before getting them to check.

 You simply watched from just outside the door, feeling slightly creepy and stalker-ish but maintaining to yourself that you were just waiting for him to finish so you could talk to him. He was nice to watch anyway, with a very calming aura that was patient with the teenager’s questions, even when they started making dumb jokes like kids their age do. He just took them with a gentle smile.

 Once they were finished, he said goodbye to each one by name before shaking the hand of the older woman who’d finally deigned to involve herself in the situation. “Thank you Mr Jung, we appreciate these visits and it gets the kids out of the classroom which they love you know?” He nodded his head in acknowledgement before coming over to the door to watch them off.

 You’d slid to the side as he’d started to come over, part of you hoping that he hadn’t seen you. That hope vanished pretty soon as he stood there, arms crossed and gaze on the group as they made their way to where you assume the high school was. A quick sideways glance told you that the corner of his mouth with lifted in an amused smile. He let the moment carry on a little longer before finally inhaling.

 “Did you enjoy the lesson then?” He asked, tone light and innocent with just a hint of mischief involved. Shoulders slumping, you turn to him and shrug slightly, the movement causing the strap of your top to fall over. Pulling it back up, you eye him for a moment.

 Hoseok looks almost exactly like yesterday, only not nearly as warm as he’d been. He seems to exude waves of contentment in the early morning sun before he finally turns his intense gaze to you, unique eyes causing a subtle shudder to run through your body.

 “I came over to see if my car was done and you were busy, so I just waited. Happened to catch the lesson too.” Watching you for a few moments, he licks his lips before shrugging himself, turning back into the garage and heading over to where your car is parked up.

 “Okay, I hope you learnt something then. In case you’re wondering, every year I give the kids who are learning to drive a lesson on the engine of a car to make sure they’re educated and going to be aware of how to take care of a car. A lot of people don’t know anything about their cars except to press the gas and the brake, but cars require far more care than that.” He runs a hand along the hood of your own black car, fingers trailing gentle over the dent that’s been there since you’ve owned it.

 “That’s nice of you. You were good with them, for a bunch of teenagers there was surprisingly little push back.” A grin spreads along his face slowly, white teeth becoming visible as his face begins to light up. His tongue pushes into the side of his cheek for a moment before he’s biting his lip.

 “They’re good kids and I try to make it interesting. Plus they’re pretty happy at not being in a classroom right?” Silence falls between the two of you, surprisingly not awkward before he’s clearing his throat.

 “So, I put your car up last night and checked it over. Do you find when you’re braking that it feels like it’s vibrating more? Or the brakes squeal?” He asks almost casually and for a moment you’re trying to remember what excuse you’d given him yesterday.

 “Err yeah they squeal occasionally but, don’t all brakes do that? Mine’s always done that.” You’re not entirely sure why he’s asking this, but you’d be the first person to admit that you know nothing about cars.  You just get in yours and start driving, and given that you live in a city you don’t drive very often.

 Hoseok is quiet for a moment before looking at you incredulously, his eyebrow raised high. “No, brakes most definitely do not squeal all the time. Your brake pads are almost worn through, that’s very dangerous. They could wear through completely and then you’re at risk of not braking, which can lead to accidents obviously. Your car is too old to have warning sensors so it’s no surprise you didn’t know though.”

 For a moment you’re standing there in confusion. You’d made up the issue on your car but it turns out that there actually is one? This is like that time that you pretended to have an illness in high school only it turns out when your mom took you to the doctors, you actually had a chest infection.

 “Wait there’s something actually wrong with it? Like genuinely wrong?” Your shocked tone causes him to raise his other eyebrow before squinting at you suspiciously.

 “Yeah there is, and it needs to get fixed. Unfortunately, I don’t have any free slots until two days from now. I’m getting a bunch of cars in that have priority. I’m really sorry.” He holds his hands up in apology, expression open and remorseful.

 “Oh, okay well, that’s fine. I mean I need to be in town anyway right so I guess I don’t need my car? I was coming over to ask about those rooms you know are for rent as well. The motel is okay for a few nights but I don’t think I want to stay longer you know?” You’re smiling at him shyly suddenly, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before realising you’re acting like the teenagers he was teaching.

 He doesn’t seem to notice though as he immediately springs into action, heading over to a worktable pushed up against the side of the garage that is piled high with papers, binders and more. If the waiting room is clean and tidy, then his desk is just a concentrated pile of mess.

 Hoseok grabs his phone from under a stack of papers and walks back over, his stride long and loping with the confidence of a man who is comfortable in his own skin. At odds with how he reacts sometimes. Fingers flying across the screen, your own phone soon starts to ping in your bag causing you to pull it out.

 A message from an unknown number pop up on your screen and it doesn’t take a genius to work out its Hoseok. Opening the message up, you see a bunch of names and numbers pop up.

 It’s only a few seconds later that you register surprise at the fact he’s apparently saved your number, but maybe he saves all his clients numbers for quick communication in the future. Or maybe it’s some fancy Vulcan tech.

 “Give these a call and tell them that I’ve recommended you. Someone should have a room available, maybe even an apartment, as the rent is pretty cheap here. If you need a ride then let me know as some of them are on the other side of town and I can take you after I close the garage tonight if you’d like?” He gives an encouraging smile and you find yourself smiling back, saving his number in your phone just under his name.

 You’ve never seen someone so selfless and giving to someone he doesn’t even know, making you wonder if maybe Vulcan Industries is perhaps taking this guy for a ride. Maybe they’re going with him because he’s too kind to up the price for a big organisation like them. It kind of makes you annoyed to think that.

 “I’ll work on your car as soon as I can, I feel really bad that I don’t have one to give you to use in the meantime.” He looks a little distressed at the thought of you having to walk everywhere or something and it’s unbelievably endearing.

 “It’s fine Hoseok, honestly. I’m used to walking places, I’m from the city remember?” You tease him, hand reaching out to push at his arm without even realising. It’s only one you’ve done it that you register what you’ve done and immediately pull your arm back, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way.

 He hasn’t noticed the oddly intimate gesture from you though as he’s too busy chewing his lip and frowning in thought. Glancing back up, his hazel-brown eyes focus on you intently, causing your stomach to flutter.

 “Yeah, okay. Just be safe okay? Let me know if you find something quick and need to move your stuff, I’ll help you as it’s my fault.” Biting your own lip to prevent the grin and the argument that you’re going to be here anyway, you nod in acquiescence before moving backwards out of the garage. You have a feeling he’d just argue with you anyway.

 “I will do, I swear. Thank you for working on my car, let me know when it’s done and I’ll be back to pay okay?” He watches you quietly before nodding. Any communication between you two is suddenly stopped the loud screeching of a truck coming to a stop outside and you look out to see a car carrier, loaded up with Vulcan cars in various states of disrepair.

 “Looks like your next two days of work is here so, I’ll leave you to it. Thank you for your help Hoseok, I appreciate it.” Waving at him, he gives a wave in response before his attention turns to the cars, eyes already scanning over them to assess what’s wrong. You can’t help but smile at him, though when your own eyes track over to the Vulcan carrier your forehead falls into a frown.

 What was it about this endearing mechanic that had roped him into the world of Vulcan?

  The first three numbers on Hoseok’s list had been a bust with all of them reporting that their rooms were either not available for short term leasing or had already been rented out. It was on the fourth number that you finally hit gold, leading to you walking around the tiny apartment that was situated in a squat building smack in the middle of town.

 It was small and plain, but clean, with white washed walls throughout. Honestly, it was probably slightly larger than your own place back in the city, and the rent was a third of your city apartment.

 A little kitchenette, there wasn’t enough of it to warrant a real kitchen, took up the area to the left with a section of counters reaching out from the wall to provide a little separation.

 Facing away from this was a small, cosy grey couch with a large flat screen television in front of this, on top of a glass table. To the back of the room was a window that looked out onto the main street, not the most exciting views but you could see snow topped mountains rising in the far distance which made it better.

 The bedroom was in the room directly to your left as you entered, the door open to reveal just enough space to fit a double bed. To your right was the small bathroom, complete with shower but no bath. It was perfect for your needs at the moment and June, the older woman Hoseok had recommended, seemed sweet enough.

 “This is really nice June, I’d like to rent it but are you okay with me not being sure how long I’d be here?” You’d been upfront about this beforehand, which had immediately got you rejections. And those were only for rooms, not an entire apartment.

 “Oh yes that’s fine, this has been sat here for a few months now anyway. This town is nice and all, but it’s not prime location for youngsters. Too far away from the city to be close for most of them, so a lot leave to go to the big colleges around the state or across the country and see the bright lights. Most of them don’t really come back.” She gives a small smile and you get the impression that she has personal experience with this.

 “Well, I’m more than happy to take this off your hands for however long I need it. I can transfer you the first rent right now if you’d like as a key deposit?” June gives you a gentle smile, reaching forward to lay a hand on your arm and causing your words to still.

 “It’s fine, I don’t need a key deposit. We keep things low key around here. You’ve got the recommendation from Jung Hoseok and that’s good enough for me.” At those words, you’re left flushing slightly before shaking your head.

 “Well, he doesn’t know me you know? We’ve met exactly twice for a total of like, twenty minutes. So please, it would make me feel better.” She gives a broad grin, eyeing you from top to bottom.

 “You’re very similar to him you know? Very giving and not happy to take charity.” Chewing on your lip thoughtfully, you consider arguing with her but decide it’s better not to annoy your landlady so soon. Plus, she seems to like Hoseok and maybe she might know something about him.

 “I noticed that too, he’s very nice and helpful. I appreciate it. Has he lived here long?” If he’d been here a while then perhaps he just had a good reputation that had led to his contract with Vulcan.

 “Oh he is, he’d give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it. And yes, he’s been here for…oh 15 years now? Yes I think it’s been 15. He turned up when he was 21 and set up shop right there and he’s been there ever since. I don’t know how the town would cope without him.” She has a fond smile on her as she reminisces.

 For a moment you’re quiet, contemplating this. He’s been here for a while then, but when you think on it, it makes even less sense. From June’s words, he’s a beloved member of the town which likely means he could get plenty of business just from this. So why take up the contract from a company like Vulcan?

 “21 is a young age to set up a garage right? I mean, it looks like a nice place in town and the house behind it is so big, so it can’t have been cheap?” The questions are innocent but they leave an uneasy feeling in your stomach. Hoseok is such a nice guy and you feel guilty intruding into his life like this.

 “He was young yes, but he didn’t go to college either as far as I’m aware. He has no family and I believe that he’s independently wealthy I think? You’re better off asking some folk in town for more details on him if you’re interested, I think he invented something as he’s got plenty. Lends out money to people who are in need and never seems to need any himself.” You pause at that, fingers pulling at a thread that’s loose on your shirt.

 You want to query further but figure it would start to seem suspicious if you keep asking her about him, though she seems more than happy to spill the beans on the striking, big-hearted mechanic.

 After that, you sign the contract with June and head back to the motel, ready to pull your suitcase into town to your new apartment. It’s a good job that you’d had a lot of savings, as you doubted Donghae would be happy paying for an apartment for you. Despite it being the story he wanted.

 The time you spend going back and forth allows you to consider the enigma of Jung Hoseok some more. He’s independently wealthy, very wealthy if he’s going around giving loans out to people if they need it and owning both the garage and that huge house. So then why take on the lucrative contract for exclusive rights to Vulcan Industries? He obviously doesn’t need it.

 And the fact that he had the money to buy his garage, get it all fully kitted out and start up at only 21? Even in a small town like this that would have to take some serious capital.

 June’s comment about him inventing something stuck in your mind, making you wonder if perhaps he had worked at Vulcan beforehand or interned there. Maybe he made something that Vulcan paid him for, allowing him to live happily in this little town.

 There’s something connected here and you feel frustrated that you can’t see it, leading to what must be an attractive scowl on your forehead. In fact, you’re so deep in thought that you fail to notice that you’re passing his garage or the deep voice calling out your name until suddenly you see two scuffed, black boots in your vision.

 Looking up, you’re surprised to see Hoseok standing there with raised eyebrows and his tanned face a picture of pleasure. One corner of his lips is lifted in a tiny smirk before he straightens it out.

 “Oh Hoseok, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you.” You apologise profusely, hand coming up to your throat in an unconscious manner. Hoseok’s pearly teeth peek through as he laughs lightly, bringing up a hand streaked in black from working in engines to run through his dark hair, shining red in the sun. What doesn’t stick together falls back forward; framing his elegant face slightly while the oil gives it some unintended volume.

 “Yeah, I figured after you didn’t respond to my fourth call. Did you find somewhere?” He asks, pointing down towards your suitcase. Glancing down, you look at the black fabric blankly for a moment before nodding.

 “Yeah I did, with June Settler. It’s a nice little apartment in the middle of town. I think it’ll work out.” Hoseok grins broadly, happiness practically radiating out of him and the bright midday sun gives his golden skin a glow, as if a fire you can’t see lights him from within.

 “That’s great! I can take you if you want? Save you walking in the hot sun?” Hands playing with the towel that was on his shoulder before he gives a nervous smile and it emboldens you a little.

 “I’d really appreciate that. Would you like to grab lunch too? I’m assuming you’re ready for something to eat right?” He pauses for a second, mouth opening slowly as his eyes widen. His movements are slow, the rigid column of his throat working as he swallows before his eyes are flickering back at you before skittering away.

 “Really? You want to go to lunch?” His voice, normally bright and enthusiastic is suddenly shy and quiet, causing you to frown. Surely the guy is aware of how attractive he is, even if you’re not actually asking him on a date? It’s only when he brushes a hand against his scarred cheek that you realise once again.

 “Yes I would like to. I know exactly two people in this town and one of them is a middle-aged woman who’s my landlady. She’s sweet but I don’t feel we run in the same circles if you get me?” Hoseok eyes you for a moment, brow creasing in confusion before gesturing for you to follow him.

 His attire for today is similar to yesterday’s, with denim jeans that are splashed with spots of oil hugging his legs only today he’s got an old black band t-shirt with a Metallica print on it. It suits him, with the cut making his shoulder seems larger and his waist narrower.

 “I’m not too sure we run in the same circles either if I’m being honest? I mean, I’m a 36-year-old mechanic and you’re a writer who’s what? 23?” He queries, eyebrow raised as he opens the door to a Vulcan Hammer, a huge black pick-up truck that’s as pristine on the outside as it is on the inside. You’d expect nothing less from him though, given what his garage looks like.

  “Writer? Yes. 23? I wish. I’m 29 and feeling older every day I swear.” For a moment you forget yourself, groaning loudly as your head falls back against the seat, suitcase in the back. Hoseok looks over at you, face lit up with a pretty smile and you can feel his eyes drag over you.

 “Wow, you do not look 29. And I get what you mean about feeling older, I swear more of my joints crack every day.” As if to prove his point, he reaches out and shifts the car into gear, his elbow cracking as he does so. You giggle softly at it as he shakes his arm, the muscles in his bicep flexing enticingly each time.

 The short drive to your new apartment is filled with small talk, both of you feeling out the other conversation wise and trying to establish what is okay and isn’t okay to talk about. While he’s always willing to give a hand and help, you discover that he also knows when to step back and let you do things on your own as he waits in the car for you to finish moving your stuff.

 Once done, he drives to the other side of town to a small Italian restaurant that he swears has the best food outside of Italy. You’re not entirely sure whether to believe him, given that this is the only Italian restaurant in town so there’s not much choice.

 Still, it’s a charming little place with soft lighting and irresistible aromas. It’s not even 1pm but the place is already half full, though it doesn’t surprise you given how tiny the restaurant is. Even Hoseok has to bashfully admit that there aren’t many restaurants here, so they tend to fill quickly.

 An older woman with dark hair pulled tight into a ponytail comes across and gives you both plastic covered menus, but you’re too amused with the obvious flirting she’s doing with the handsome man opposite you to take a look at the food. He engages with it graciously, taking her flirtatious comments with an ease he’s lacked with you before turning his gaze back to your own and smiling amiably once she goes.

 “That’s Mariella, she’s the daughter of the owner of this place,” He leans forward suddenly, picture perfect face suddenly inches from your own and his unbelievably beautiful eyes so close you can swear you can see individual strands of colour. “I think she has a thing for me.”

 You laugh loudly, hand moving to cover your mouth as you nod your head slowly. “Hoseok, my newest friend, she most definitely has a thing for you. But I don’t think she’s interested in actually pursuing.”

 Lifting up his menu, he grins broadly before sending over a wink. “Oh I know, she’s been doing it for 13 years now. We’re just not fated to be unfortunately.”

 He buries his head into his menu after that, soft noises of contemplation coming from him unbidden and for a moment you watch him as he concentrates. Tiny lines bisect between his eyebrows and his mouth moves silently as he reads, causing a little smile to spread over your face. He’s cute.

 The waitress comes back with a jug of iced lemon water, filling both your glasses and taking your menus once she’s taken your order. Hoseok picks the spaghetti carbonara while you opt for the tagliatelle with bacon and mushrooms with a side dish of garlic bread for the both of you.

 There’s an awkward silence that falls between the two of you once the waitress leaves again and you’re no longer preoccupied with menus. Within even realising it, you both take a sip of water to try and hide the awkwardness at the same time. Eyes darting around the restaurant, they eventually come to rest on Hoseok, who is sat staring determinedly at his hands, which are twisting nervously.

 This close, you can see the grime that has absorbed into his skin so deeply he’ll likely never get rid of it unless he stops working on cars for years. The outline of his nails is surrounded in black with the palm of his hand looking tough and as you watch, he rubs them together self-consciously.

 “It’s hard to keep them clean in my job, if my hands are clean then I’m doing something wrong.” He gives a little apologetic laugh, causing you to smile at his shy demeanour. You barely know the man, yet you’ve never met anyone as confusing as him. One moment he’s timid and apologising for himself over the smallest thing and withdrawing from contact whereas the next he’s bold and flirting with a middle aged waitress.

 You get the feeling that he has moments of confidence that soon whither away around people, as even with Mariella or the teenagers he’d looked to be holding part of himself away. As if he was afraid to fully let someone see the true side of him. But you didn’t know him nearly enough to know if this was true and you didn’t particularly want to psychoanalyse him when you’d barely talked to him.

 “So…why’d you come here? It’s not exactly the most happening place in California, as beautiful as it is.” Hoseok asks, eyes flickering up to meet yours before skittering away at the direct contact. The amused, confident man of this morning has vanished and you find it kind of charming.

 “I’m…researching something for what I’m writing and my queries led me to here. It seems nice though so far; the people are unbelievably friendly. All two I’ve met.” Hoseok grins at that. “But it seems pretty relaxing and the air is so much fresher here. Maybe I’ll get to finish what I write and feel better when I go back?” You muse, almost to yourself as you look out the window.

 You’ve told him the truth, with just a little extra truth omitted from him. This place really was beautiful and soothing, and maybe you would complete your article and go back to the city and your job feeling better than ever. Hoseok humming to himself quietly brings your attention back to him, watching as his black hair falls forward into his face again.

 “It is nice. Peaceful.” Looking at you, his lips break out into an innocent smile that lights his whole face up. In the dimness that makes up the inside of the restaurant, his bold, unique eyes seem to look even brighter than usual which you know is unusual. You feel slightly ridiculous, as you never normally obsess over people’s eyes like you are his.

 But you’ve never seen anyone with eyes as captivating or as exceptional as his either.

 “What about you? Err, June told me that you moved here when you were 21 right? Seems pretty young.” Tongue running over his teeth; he lets out a breathy laugh before shaking his head.

 “Ah June, she does like to talk. Why are you implying I’m too old now?” The grin on his face lets you know that he’s teasing you. “Yeah I moved here young. Yosemite is close by and I just love volcanoes you know?” At that you’re staring at him with a frown before he’s suddenly laughing loudly, hands clapping at the sight of your face.

 “I’m kidding! I just like my solitude and this place seemed calm, when I first visited it was like it pacified my soul as ridiculous and silly as that sounds. I like it here, everyone knows everyone but at the same time they’re all respectful of my privacy and my personal life. No one asks questions here.” His tone turns slightly bitter at the end and his words cause your stomach to roil with guilt.

 The poor guy moved all the way out here to get away from questions and people, yet here you were, intending to pick his life apart to find out that connection to Vulcan and hopefully find the trail of the elusive CEO.

 “You say that, but June was pretty eager to tell me things about you.” Another sip of your water reveals that the glass is already half empty, with the ice melting rapidly due to the warmth that is strong even inside. Hoseok snorts lightly.

 “June just wants to set me up with someone. She’s never seen me dating and I think she feels sorry for me and like I can’t get my own dates. Though in fairness it’s normally her sending pretty boys and girls to me, not the other way around.” Your cheeks flush rose at being called pretty by this handsome man and you start tearing your napkin apart to distract yourself.

 “So no girlfriend then?” Your question is innocent but immediately you can’t help but cringe, causing him to laugh at the brazen line. Of course you’d say something stupid like that and make this even more awkward, but Hoseok is a gentlemen and doesn’t make it worse.

 “No, no girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or wife. Or husband. Not even a dog. I am married to my job. I don’t know if you can’t tell but, I don’t really get along with people all that well.” Now it’s his turn to start tearing at his napkin, causing you to frown.

 “You’re kidding right? You were amazing with those kids and June obviously loves you. Along with that, you have a whole contacts list of people willing to help you out, the motel guy gushed about how nice you are which makes me think he has a crush, and you’ve been nothing but helpful and sweet to me.” His cheeks are burning bright red at this point, a shy smile causing his lips to twitch as he cocks his head slightly.

 “No, no. I mean, well. No. Helping people is easy, like I don’t have to think about it. But like, friend wise? Or romance wise? I don’t really know what to do; I’ve always been a loner so I don’t have very good people skills. Or maybe that should be intimacy skills? Either way, I don’t get how people work up close.” He sounds embarrassed, causing you to instantly feel sympathy for him.

 “Hey, don’t feel bad. There’s lots of people out there that can’t do intimacy, you just have to try I guess? If it’s really not for you, then you find someone who is okay with that. If that doesn’t interest you, then you stay alone if you feel happier.” You’re not entirely sure if Hoseok expected to have a lesson in inter-personal relationships when he agreed to lunch but here he is, getting one anyway.

 As if he read your mind, he gives a soft laugh before looking up at you with an adorable smile. “This is not what I expected our first proper conversation to consist of you know? I feel like I’m on Dr Phil or something.” Nodding, you give an apologetic smile of your own.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go all weird and philosophical there. I’m sorry. Let’s talk about something way more normal yeah?” There’s a moment of silence from Hoseok before he nods his head, biting his lip as he watches you.

 The conversation changes pace to something much more neutral, which turns out to be a lot about your life and going to college. He tells you that he never went and had no interest in going, instead preferring to work with his hands from the get go.

 It’s only while eating your lunch, which you have to agree with Hoseok is truly delicious, that you find out that he not only fixes cars for a living, but apparently also enjoys metalworking. He only says this when you ask what he does in his free time, to which he chuckles and notes he doesn’t like free time as he doesn’t like being idle.

 “I think I’ve re-done my house about 3 times in 5 years because I just hate having nothing to do. But I also do metalworking which is fun, let’s me unleash my creativity and it’s something I’ve always done.” At your little confused frown, he smiles before pushing a forkful of pasta into his mouth and chewing quickly.

 “It covers a lot of things, like you could build a ship or instead you could make jewellery. I like to make anything from things that could be used as household decorations to large sculptures. It helps keep my skills fresh and occupies my mind when I’m making something beautiful come to life.” He gets a wistful look on his face for a moment, overtaking the passion that had filled those striking eyes with a gleam.

 Taking a moment to eat some more of your lunch before eventually placing your cutlery down, the food was delicious but far too much, you watch him for a moment as he goes on to eagerly explain some of the metalworking he does.

 “It sounds interesting, I mean I don’t really understand half of what you’re saying but you seem to enjoy it. I’d like to see your stuff at some point if I could, I don’t think I’ve ever paid attention to metal sculptures.” At that, Hoseok flushes and his head drops shyly, fingers scratching at his nose.

 “Ah, well, yeah…I guess. Maybe.” His self-consciousness causes you to bite your lip in an attempt to stop the smile, lifting a hand to bring the waitresses attention and save him from discomfiture. For a moment you both fight over the bill, Hoseok wanting to pay for the both of you to be a gentleman before you point out that you’re the one who invited him to lunch.

 He relents pretty quickly though, evidently not wanting to kick up too much of a fuss. The short drive to your new apartment ends just as quickly, with classic rock playing through the Bluetooth connection from his super high-tech phone.

 After convincing him that you’re fine walking to your place without him, you start to head towards what is possibly the smallest apartment block you’ve ever seen in your life. A loud call of your name causes you to turn around though.

 The sight of Hoseok with his window down, strong and lean arm resting on the edge while a set of black Ray-Ban style glasses perch on his nose and his hair parted on his forehead causes you to feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach.

 He gives a quick grin, lips lifting up to brighten what little of his face you can see and causing your abused stomach to turn over on itself. Did he really not realise how beautiful he was?

 “Feel free to call if you want, or text or something. I know you don’t really know anyone here but I can introduce you to some people. Or we could hang out, I guess. If you want. Work on those people skills I guess? Which I really need as I just ‘I guess’ twice.” His boldness dissipates quickly, resulting in him almost mumbling the words out by the end and causing you to smile at him.

 “I’d like that Hoseok, I’ll let you know okay?” He’s dumbfounded for a moment, as if he’d expected you to reject his awkward proposition before an excited smile of his own spreads over his face, looking more like it belongs on the face of a teenager asking out his first crush.

 “That’s great! Yeah, totally, I mean…message whenever. Well, I’m not free till 8pm but I’ll answer if I have time you know? You can text whenever but if you wanted to call then after 8 works best okay? That works best for me. Wait I just said that. But…I guess…if that’s not good for you then call anyway and I might be able to answer?” A giggle from you causes him to stop and rub his forehead with a grimace.

 “Sorry. Bad people skills remember? Just…do what you want. And please, call me Hobi.” He gives another heart stopping smile, tinged with embarrassment before giving a little wave and moving off before you can respond.

 You watch his huge car drive off before leaning back against the wall and shaking your head. He was truly a mystery that you desperately wanted to dig into and unwrap; only you weren’t entirely sure anymore if it was for the investigation or for yourself.

A/N: Okay this was supposed to be a one shot but it’s 12k and it’s not even halfway done. I didn’t want it to end up like 30k or something and people not be able to read so...there will be a second part! Hopefully this wasn’t boring ;-;

Hephaestus Hobi is a genuine sweetheart and I love him so I hope you all love him too! I’d love to hear your thoughts on what’s going to happen!

[newstfionline]

Friday, August 20, 2021

The U.S. could be on the verge of a productivity boom (Washington Post) The United States is currently experiencing a surge in worker productivity that could rival that of the tech boom 20 years ago—if it lasts. As companies and customers embrace new technologies, making it easier for Americans to produce more with fewer workers, a growing number of economists say this is not a blip and could turn into a boom—or, at least, a “mini boom”―with wide-ranging benefits for years to come. Productivity refers to how much output a worker can do in an hour. When workers have better tools or the help of robots and artificial intelligence, they can make cars or process data much faster. Higher productivity typically leads to more goods and services available at a lower cost and increases in wages. Without it, economic growth is sluggish. The early data in this recovery is promising. Worker productivity grew 4.3 percent in the first quarter, one of the highest rates in years, according to the Labor Department. Second quarter productivity slowed to 2.3 percent growth, but that’s still nearly double the anemic productivity the nation experienced in the decade after the financial crisis—an average of just 1.2 percent.

Soaring Cost of Food Is Forcing Families to Scrimp at the Dinner Table (Bloomberg) Whether at supermarkets, corner stores, or open-air markets, prices for food have been surging in much of the world, forcing families to make tough decisions about their diets. Meat is often the first to go, ceding space to less expensive proteins such as dairy, eggs, or beans. In some households, a glass of milk has become a luxury reserved only for children; fresh fruit, once deemed a necessity, is now a treat. Food prices in July were up 31% from the same month last year, according to an index compiled by the United Nations’ Food and Agriculture Organization.

School bus drivers (CBS News) School bus drivers are so hard to find in Delaware that EastSide Charter School in Wilmington is offering $700 per child to parents who agree to drive their kids to and from school for the year. More than 150 parents of the 500 students attending EastSide raised their hands for driving duty. The school is still offering bus transportation for families that require it. Colorado, Pennsylvania, and Virginia also report problems finding enough school bus drivers to transport students. Pittsburgh Public Schools have such a shortage of drivers, as well as available seats on buses with drivers, that 800 students have been told they’ll have to walk to school. The district even delayed the start of the academic year because of the shortage. The National School Transportation Association’s executive director said the closure of some state Department of Motor Vehicle offices during the pandemic created a bottleneck in training new school bus drivers, who need a commercial driver’s license to qualify for the job.

New Cuban decree tightens controls on social media, sparking outrage (Reuters) Cuba introduced tighter controls on the use of social media this week, including a ban on publications that might damage “the country’s prestige,” angering many citizens and international rights activists. The legislation bans the spread of false news or messages and content deemed offensive or which “incite mobilizations or other acts that upset public order.” It also provides a channel for Cubans to inform on potential contraventions. Those who have attempted to “subvert the constitutional order” will be considered cyberterrorists. It does not say what the penalties will be for violations. Cuba analysts compared the measure to the totalitarianism of George Orwell’s “1984”, saying that they feared the vague definitions of what constitutes a violation would allow for arbitrary implementation.

Haiti Endures a Week of Torment (Foreign Policy) Two natural disasters in one week would test most countries. In Haiti, the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, it is pushing a strained health system past the limit. The 7.2 magnitude earthquake that hit Haiti’s southwest on Saturday has already claimed at least 2,000 lives, according to official estimates. Rescue efforts were further hampered when Tropical Storm Grace made landfall a few days later. The number of injured—at least 9,915 people—puts a strain on already bare health care facilities. Haiti ranks in the bottom 25 nations when it comes to hospital beds, with its 0.7 beds per 1,000 people putting it on par with Yemen and Sudan. To make matters worse, scores of hospitals across Haiti were damaged or destroyed by the earthquake. As aid officials attempt to assist affected regions, Haiti’s political class may be breathing easier. As Jonathan M. Katz writes in Foreign Policy, the timing of the disaster “offered a disruption—and perhaps a not-unwelcome distraction—from a political crisis that was threatening to spiral out of their control.” Just last week officials announced a delay in presidential elections scheduled for September. Meanwhile the quest for justice in the assassination of former President Jovenel Moïse has continued, but slowly: Dozens have been arrested but none have appeared in court, and judges involved in the investigation have reportedly gone into hiding.

More Brexit repercussions (Financial Times) Brexit is gradually leading British officials to better understand the value of poultry workers, as a shortage of them has led to a supply crisis, causing many popular chicken restaurants like KFC and Nando’s to close outlets. Roughly 60 percent of British poultry sector workers come from the European Union, the Financial Times reports, but new British immigration rules classify the workers as “low skilled,” meaning visas are in short supply. The British Poultry Council has called on the government to reclassify the jobs as skilled before the Christmas rush, as the group warned that the supply of turkeys could be reduced by a fifth.

The Taliban spin machine (CJR) Yesterday, the Taliban held a press conference in Kabul. While many of the journalists who cover Afghanistan were familiar with the official who led the briefing—Zabihullah Mujahid, the Taliban’s top spokesperson—they had never before seen him in the flesh. Sharif Hassan, a New York Times reporter in Kabul, noted that, for over a decade, Mujahid has been “more responsive and active” than the entire press team of Ashraf Ghani, the Afghan president, who just fled the country. At the press conference, the Taliban sought to present a new face to the world, metaphorically as well as literally, even if caveats and uncertainties abounded. Mujahid insisted that the new government intends to respect women’s rights (within the framework of “Islamic laws”), allow for freedom of the press (within the framework of “Islamic values” and “national unity”), and forgive those who worked with international forces and the prior government. In one exchange that went viral online, a reporter raised freedom of speech, and Mujahid replied that they should ask their question of Facebook (which had earlier confirmed that the Taliban will remain banned across its platforms). Ronna McDaniel, the chair of the Republican National Committee, tweeted that “the Taliban spokesperson has taken more questions from US media in recent days than the President of the United States.” Politico Playbook declared: “The Taliban PR blitz begins.”      In fact, the Taliban PR blitz began a long time ago. “The Taliban has created a sophisticated communications apparatus that projects an increasingly confident movement,” an International Crisis Group report concluded, in 2008. The Taliban’s propaganda tools have included pamphlets, cassette tapes, sermons in mosques, and DVDs; as time passed, the group honed its digital output—updating a website with statements in various languages, posting tweets from the battlefield, and using social media as a recruitment tool. (It even tried to launch an Android app, but Google refused to host it.) Vanessa M. Gezari wrote for CJR, in 2011. “The Taliban know how to tell a good story.” (The story grew so strong that the US eventually created a psyops unit to counter it.)

What will happen to the U.S. embassy in Kabul? (Fast Company) When the U.S. government officially pulled its military presence from Afghanistan this month, it left behind a valuable piece of real estate. The U.S. embassy in Kabul, a sprawling 15-acre complex of more than a dozen buildings and annexes, built at an estimated construction cost of $806 million. As the Taliban takes over, it is physically filling in the footprint of the previous regime, including taking over the presidential palace. The U.S. embassy, the centerpiece of the country’s long and tumultuous presence in Afghanistan for more than 20 years, could similarly change hands. The State Department declined to comment. Other U.S. embassies have managed to see continued use even after being evacuated or going into disuse, in one form or another. In Tehran, the U.S. embassy building made notorious by the 1979 hostage crisis has lived on as a museum, maintained by a wing of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard in the years since diplomatic ties have been cut between the two nations and the U.S. abandoned the building. Named the U.S. Den of Espionage Museum, this is one piece of embassy preservation U.S. officials are probably not happy about.

First Resistance to Taliban Rule Tests Afghanistan’s Uncertain Future (NYT) As the Taliban sought to consolidate control over Afghanistan on Wednesday, they faced the first challenges to their renewed rule, using force to break up protests in at least two cities, while an opposing faction vowed to hold out in one pocket of the country. Millions of Afghans tried to parse conflicting clues about what lay in store for them and their nation, but many were not waiting to find out. Despite Taliban assurances that there would be no reprisals against their opponents, thousands of people continued to crowd around the airport in Kabul, the capital, hoping to get a flight out of the country. Throngs rushed toward certain entrances, only to be met by Taliban troops who beat people back and fired their rifles into the air. A NATO official at the scene said 17 people were injured. Taliban fighters used gunfire to disperse demonstrations in the northeastern city of Jalalabad and the southeastern city of Khost, with some of the protesters raising the Afghan government flags that the Taliban had taken down just days earlier. News reports said two or three people were killed in Jalalabad.

US struggles to speed Kabul airlift despite Taliban, chaos (AP) The United States struggled Thursday to pick up the pace of American and Afghan evacuations at Kabul airport, constrained by obstacles ranging from armed Taliban checkpoints to paperwork problems. With an Aug. 31 deadline looming, tens of thousands remained to be airlifted from the chaotic country. Taliban fighters and their checkpoints ringed the airport—major barriers for Afghans who fear that their past work with Westerners makes them prime targets for retribution. Hundreds of Afghans who lacked any papers or clearance for evacuation also congregated outside the airport, adding to the chaos that has prevented even some Afghans who do have papers and promises of flights from getting through. It didn’t help that many of the Taliban fighters could not read the documents. In a hopeful sign, State Department spokesman Ned Price said in Washington that 6,000 people were cleared for evacuation Thursday and were expected to board military flights in coming hours. That would mark a major increase from recent days. About 2,000 passengers were flown out on each of the past two days, Pentagon spokesman John Kirby said. And yet, at the current rate it would be difficult for the U.S. to evacuate all of the Americans and Afghans who are qualified for and seeking evacuation by Aug. 31. President Joe Biden said Wednesday he would ensure no American was left behind, even if that meant staying beyond August.

Was it ‘worth it’? Nations that sent troops to Afghanistan grapple with Kabul’s fall. (Washington Post) It was not the U.S. Congress that returned from its August holiday to gnash its teeth over intelligence failures and military collapse in Afghanistan. Instead, it was the British Parliament, which was recalled for a remarkable one-day session on Wednesday, to hear lawmakers give heartfelt speeches honoring fallen soldiers and engage in hours of finger-pointing over what went so wrong. The British were not alone in such painful debate, as other allies sounded off about the stunning events in Kabul. In countries that sent troops to Afghanistan—from Europe, Canada and Australia—politicians and veterans of the war tried to tally what was gained and what was lost. After the 9/11 terrorist attacks against the United States, in which 67 British nationals were killed, the U.K. sent the second-largest contingent of forces to Afghanistan, deploying 150,000 military personnel over the years. It even sent a prince: Harry, who served two deployments. In all, 457 British soldiers died, and many thousands came home wounded in body or mind. Speaking in Britain’s House of Commons, Prime Minister Boris Johnson praised hard-won successes in Afghanistan over the last 20 years—specifically the 3.6 million girls now in school there and the fragile democracy that saw women elected to political office. But his own lawmakers, who leveled tough criticism at both him and President Biden, said such progress might soon be reversed.

Power in seeds: Urban gardening gains momentum in pandemic (AP) On an assemblage of vacant lots and other pockets of unused land in the Bronx, gardeners from low-income neighborhoods have banded together to create over a dozen “farm hubs,” coordinating their community gardens and their harvest. Several years ago, some discovered that, together, their small gardens could grow enough peppers to mass-produce hot sauce—Bronx Hot Sauce, to be precise, with profits from the sales reinvested in their communities. During the pandemic, the farm hubs of the Bronx have again proved their might, producing health-boosting crops like garlic, kale and collard greens. “The trick is, how can we learn from the pandemic so that we become genuinely resilient?” says Raymond Figueroa-Reyes, president of the New York City Community Garden Coalition. “When the pandemic hit, urban farming went into hyper-productivity mode. People saw that the (food) donations coming in were are not adequate in terms of quantity or quality, and there is no dignity in waiting on that type of charity,” he says.

[sssssph]

My Advocation for Labour

Vote for policy, not for politicians. This isn’t a gameshow where we choose our favourite contestant. This is real life with very real consequences. This coming week our country is going to vote in one of the most important elections of our lifetime. This election will hugely impact us and the generation(s) to come and we should all go out and vote in order to make sure that the impact will be a positive one.

It’s time for change, and Labour will bring that change. These major reforms and policies will create a more just and fairer society for all of us. Think of the most vulnerable people in our society, and vote as if you are voting for them. Because it will be them who will be affected the most by a government led by the Tories.

The NHS staff are literally begging people not to vote Conservative because it will not be able to last much longer. Even life-long Tories are not voting for the Conservatives, and even advising others to not vote for the Conservatives. Think about that for a moment. Life-long greens are even voting for Labour, this is how serious it has become.

How can we talk about being united and caring for others in our society, when people are still homeless, child poverty still exists, our NHS is at its breaking point and hundreds of thousands of people have died due to austerity? Don’t fall for the lies and the false promises. The Conservative party promises more nurses, more police, more public services, things that are literally all re-packaged back to you because they were the ones who made the cuts in the first place. Much like the 19,000 ‘new nurses’ re-packaged back to you.

Climate change. With environmental issues having greater importance than ever before, we cannot vote for a party who doesn’t take climate change seriously. We can see this unconcerned attitude towards the climate crisis when the PM skipped the climate change debate in which David Attenborough himself called this snub “shameful”. Labour surpasses all the other political parties on climate change, scoring 33 points, the Greens at 31 and the Conservatives at a disappointing 5.5, by far the lowest. We should be voting for Labour, a party who is doing much more, not just for the U.K. but for our planet.

We cannot vote for a PM who consistently lies time and time again, attacking single mothers, women, the working class, the LGBQT+ community, those in poverty, Muslims and Africans. Boris is divisive and legitimizes racist rhetoric across the country. If you’re saying no to Corbyn because of racism/anti-Semitism yet still accept the islamophobia and racism coming directly out of Boris Johnson’s mouth, do you actually care about racism?

Still not convinced? Let’s dispel some untruths

“We won’t be able to afford all of this and will be put into huge debt” 163 academics and economists around the world have backed Labour’s spending plans. Furthermore, Corbyn has a full team of economists and analysts to produce a fully costed manifesto. It seems like we’re always complaining about things, like the ‘bloody train prices’, but when a manifesto actually wants to make things cheaper, everyone complains. Listen to the economists, the academics, the analysists. Furthermore, Labour will still be spending less on public services than Germany and France.

“I’ve earned my money, I don’t want to spend it all on taxes” What the top 5% of this country would spend on taxes is cheaper than a bottle of wine or your Spotify account. Can those who earn over £80k a year fork out an extra tenner/twenty quid so people literally don’t die. £80k is a huge sum of money, and £240 a year is nothing to contribute to society. A fair price for widespread investment in public services, funding for schools, social care, to have a functioning NHS and to reverse the impacts of austerity. This is our responsibility to society.

“I can’t vote for Labour because of Jeremy Corbyn” This is a ridiculous statement. So you aren’t going to vote for life-changing policies because you don’t like the frontman? And the very fact that you don’t like Corbyn shows how well propaganda and the right wing press has furthered their agenda in our society. This man has been awarded the Gandhi Peace Prize, the Sean MacBride Peace Prize. He also stood up and was arrested for protesting against the inhumane apartheid in South Africa which was backed by the British government. What a nasty man…

“Corbyn can’t make a decision on Brexit” First of all, the Tories talk about Brexit as if the referendum and leaving wasn’t their idea in the first place. Secondly, Johnson is taking us out of the EU with a trade deal, far worse for our economy than that of Theresa May. On the other side, Swinson wants to keep us in. The only logical choice is to go to the polls again. We absolutely should not settle. The amazing thing about democracy is that we’re allowed to change our minds. Every election we can change our minds, and we can vote in contrary to the way we did last time. We have had more general elections in these past few years than we are meant to have had. Is this anti-democracy? Obviously not. 3 years is a long time, and in a democracy, we should be able to look retrospectively with a clearer image of what Brexit will entail. We can now clearly see the false promises and lies that we were told back in 2016 and use that to better inform ourselves this time round. Let’s vote again, if you’re so confident that the U.K. wants Brexit, then there should be no problem in doing it again. That is, unless you think that opinions have changed… and therefore, want to force the U.K. to leave the E.U. against the will of the new majority. Now that would be anti-democratic… Bloody Remoaners.

“Jeremy Corbyn is anti-semitic” PLEASE find these quotes. It’s a nice thing to say that might sound like you’re on to something – but you’re really not. Why is islamophobia not treated with this same energy? There are literally quotes from Boris Johnson on Islam and Muslims, yet people want to subvert the conversation to manufactured rage (much like how people get themselves worked up over mythical immigrants stealing their jobs). There is also a difference between being anti-Jew and opposing Israeli policy against Palestinians. Why is Corbyn responsible for things he has never said whilst Boris is not held accountable for the actual horrific statements, he has made himself which are all evidenced and recorded. The hypocrisy.

“Labour voters are lazy and want free handouts” So, paying extortionate amounts for medicine is being pro-active? Some things should be a universal right. Healthcare and Education should be two of those things. That doesn’t make you lazy.

“Socialism doesn’t work, and hasn’t worked anywhere in the world” Apart from in postwar Britain when it turned a 250% deficit into a surplus. This led to the creation of the NHS, welfare states and the building of council houses. Other countries attempts have been met with foreign interventions and interference with the main goal of crushing it – so yeah it probably didn’t work because they weren’t given the opportunity to fully realize themselves.

During the run up to the deadline for the registration to vote, Johnson never encouraged the public to register to vote, because traditionally when the masses go to the polls, the Conservatives don’t do so well. It’s time for change.

VOTE LABOUR!

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds s03e06 About Face review - or more aptly named, introducing Joe Mantegna as David Rossi and me screaming over a certain scene that had my heart going super fast and unhealthily so

Episode 06 – About Face

Hey guys! So last episode was kind of low on the funny factor, which was a bummer, considering we had a child abducted and she could have died in Hotch’s arms and it was kind of heartbreaking and I don’t like it when my superheroes’ hearts are broken.

Let’s hope this one will be slightly better.

All right, let’s see what happens

Ooh, pretty lakes! Birdies!

Wait. Was that a gunshot?

Who’s the old guy?

Doggy!!!!!!!! A doggie doing the doggy-paddle.

Oh he shot the duck? Good aim!

And that doggie is so well-trained.

He just told Strauss he’s coming? And he’s giving her orders? Oh damn. This is one important old guy.

Okay.

And clean-shaven. I like him.

He sounds Italian. And has rings. He’s really important.

Oh. He’s a retired FBI agent? Wow.

What’s with the chain?

So just so we’re clear, we just had almost an entire minute of just seeing this guy come out of retirement? Well, either they’re out of ideas, or he’s going to be really prominent in this show.

Hahaha, the old guy and Strauss facing each other. This has gotta be good.

“What’s to understand, Erin?” oh shit! This David guy just called Strauss by her first name. he’s probably one of the most important FBI agents on the show. Oh my god. He looks so good here! But I like him scruffier like in the beginning of the episode.

“Well, this is getting boring.” Oh my god, he did not just say that. I love you, David! I wish I knew your last name!

“A completely selfless act.” “Is that so hard to believe.”

And I cannot believe Strauss told him yes. Fuck you, bitch.

Okay, Texas. That’s where this episode’s case is. Cool. Yee-haw.

Why is there a picture of herself taped to her door? I don’t get it.

I really don’t like this detective just dismissing her fear of seeing a picture of herself taped to her own front door. I really don’t like him. One bit.

Oh god, his wife is dogging on him for making fun of that lady. Oh my god, I love you Molly, even though I haven’t seen you yet.

Wow. That house is immaculate, man. I’m impressed.

What’s that noise?

Why is the tap running?

The food is still on the table.

What’s going on?

Where the fuck is Michelle?

Oh I bet she’s dead, dude.

Oh crap. Why is that room full of her pictures? What the fuck is that mask for? And why does it have ‘one’ written on it? What the fuck is going on here?

Joe Mantegna is the name of the actor who plays David. Cool. He looks cute. And he seems like he’ll be a good addition. I hope lives up to it.

Erasmus: “What else is the whole life of mortals, but a sort of comedy, in which the various actors, disguised by various costumes and masks, walk on and play each one his part, until the manager waves them off the stage?” AMAZING! I want that framed above my head. Someone make that into a poster or one of those quirky wooden signs that’s made up of letters and send it to me please? I love it so much!

Oh my god, first of all, I love it that Reid is going so meta and is walking around the bureau with a mask of Frankenstein, handing out candy.

And oh my god, he just scared Derek shitless! I love you so much, poodle!!!!!!!!! Oh my god, I just died laughing right now.

You know, from what I’ve seen on Tumblr, it looks like Matthew is a kind of awesome, and he likes Hallowe’en as much as Reid, I think they tapped into that here.

And Derek’s all like, who’s this bitch? And why is he so happy about a scary night?

“Are you telling me you’re scared of Hallowe’en?”

“I didn’t say I was scared, I said I was creeped out. There’s a difference there, youngster. You should look it up.” Oh my god, why are men so afraid of admitting they’re scared? LOL oh my little brave puppy is scared of Hallowe’en, I love you.

“I don’t like folks in disguises.”

“That’s the best thing about Hallowe’en. You can be anyone you want to be.” Oh poodle.

“Nah, I’m pretty good just being me.” You do you, cupcake.

“Yeah, why is that neither of those points of view surprise me?” EMILY YOU LITTLE SHIT!

“You know what, though? On the flip side, it does provide a pretty good reason to cozy up with a scary flick and a little Hallowe’en honey.” You know what? Shemar is probably the only person I’d ever watch a scary flick with. Cuz he has all those yummy muscles to cozy up to, and then those broad, sexy shoulders to hide in when I’m scared, and oh my god I’m getting myself wet. SHUT UP BRAIN!

Emily, how can you be creeped out by him? He’s literally sex on legs.

So David and Aaron know each other? Cool. Now Strauss will really be pissed and I’m happy as a clam.

Ah, finally they reveal his full name. David Rossi. Cool. He’s pretty famous, then. Damn.

Excited to learn about him.

Oh my god. I love David already. “Wow, we didn’t have that ten years ago.” And Hotch is all like, wait, is he gonna make a move on JJ? Cuz that’s not … “Communications coordinator.” Ah. So he’s still a funny man. Cool.

Oh god. I like him.

Oh my god. He introduces everyone, and when he gets to Reid everyone’s like, oh shit, he’s gonna embarrass everyone with his fanboy crush. Shit.

Oh god, I’m so happy with this addition to the show.

And Rossi’s micro-expressions are so awesome!

And Morgan’s like, is he for real right now? Shit.

You can literally SEE Thomas trying not to laugh here. Oh my god.

You goofballs, I love you guys so much.

“Hallowe’en brings out the fool in everyone.” Oh puppy.

Oh shit. That lady was raped and left in the water? And her face was fucking removed? FUCK

DRAMATIC PENELOPE ENTRANCE! “Oh, my god! What is that!” I love you so much, goddess! And I love your hairstyle!

“Is it gone, JJ?” I love you, Penelope, spirit animal of mine.

Oh god, I love it when my goddess is freaked out like that, because it’s so funny and Kirsten is such a good actress. I love you.

Oh my good Lord, I love Penelope acting all flustered for embarrassing herself over her freakout, oh my god this is glorious.

And Derek, why are you embarrassed? Are you embarrassed by your GIRLFRIEND’s actions? Am I sensing a secret affair going on? (yeah, this is gonna be a recurring question throughout the series, just so you know, every time they do this… cuz seriously, they act like a married couple and it’s not fair to my heart).

“She’s different.” “You have no idea.” NOPE.

SHEMAR MOORE EYEBROW APPRECIATION (also recurring, get used to it), and bring back the goatee, I loved it! Made me want to go 

all up in his grill.

“Creepy. I rest my case.” Oh honey.

Seriously. Why would boys think it’s fun to throw eggs at stuff? I’m with this lady all the way.

Oh boy. This lady is up next. Shit.

Take the doggie and run!

Pensive Rossi. I like it.

Wait. He’s having waking nightmares about a case he had a while back that was connected to the charms he has? Damn.

“Well, she’s pretty.” Easy there, Tiger.

I’m with Derek. Reid may be good at methodologies, but Derek is on point with emotions. And if he removed her fucking face, raped her, and drowned her, then he’s got to be some kind of nutjob on a rampant rage.

“Thanks, baby girl.” Yup. I love it with the pet names. I love those two so much! Make out already!

My hottie’s on the move.

Wait! So the bad guy was like “I will have you my pretty, and your little dog, too!”? that’s straight out of Cruella Deville or something.

Oh god, my poodle is rambling and David’s like, dude, focus, let’s see what we have here.

Damn, this guy is on point like crazy. Walking the crime scene to try and understand it from her point of view? I love you.

My hottie surrounded by lush green.

No one should look this hot when saying ‘shotgun’.

You know, something isn’t sitting right with me. Why is David making notes and not saying anything? Why isn’t he sharing stuff?

Wait. Hold up. Enid is alive? Oh shit. She’s good. Please someone save her.

Oh damn. He got her.

Shit.

In 20 minutes.

Fuck.

At least the doggie is alive.

“Speak and be recognized by your empress, mortal.”

“Is this the technical analyst girl?”

“Who’s this?”

“Dr. Reid said this was your direct line from the team.”

“It is.”

“This is agent Dave Rossi. We met yesterday.”

“Of course, of course. I’m sorry, sir.”

Oh my god, I love Penelope so much. She’s like. Wait. Who the fuck is calling me right now? Why isn’t he laughing at my awesome jokes? Oh shit! It’s fucking Rossi! Someone bury me alive. Never, baby girl. Derek needs you.

Wait. Hold up. Rossi is calling up Garcia to do some snooping of his own? Without the team knowing about it? He doesn’t even want Hotch to know about it? Oh that is stinky.

“I will get back to you super fast. Scout’s honor.” Oh pumpkin.

That girl is really trying to help you, Rossi, try and be more cooperative and not secretive, okay? It goes both ways.

Hey sweetness.

So the guy doesn’t want to be ignored? He gets pissed off at that? And he kills those who ignore him? Oh my god.

“Have you seen me?” Oh, believe me, I’ve seen you gorgeous.

Wait, circling back to that first part of the line above. Hold up. Are you telling me those fliers were about the unsub? Oh shit.

Wait. How the fuck did the police get a hold of pictures of the masks? What? Why the fuck would Rossi contact the media and give them information Hotch was trying to keep private? What the fuck is going on?

Did Rossi just pull the ‘I’m older than you and I know my job’ card? Oh hell no, Italian sugarcane.

You work as a team, not as individuals. Come on, Rossi.

I mean, sure, Rossi was right in that he would call and demand the FBI, but he can’t just go over the rest of my superheroes’ heads, they don’t work like that, buddy. Get with the program.

Wait. What? How the fuck did Rossi deduce he’s inside the police station? What the fuck is wrong with you dude? Why would he provoke him like that and cause him to state he’s going to murder Enid White?

I’m with Derek, I’m highly skeptical of Rossi’s tactics.

Wait. Hold up. He lied about the security cameras capturing the unsub? Oh god. And all because he thinks the guy is completely off his rocker and won’t be careful because he’s psycho? I’m not sure about this.

And I’m with Derek, again. I’m seriously starting to get spooked by Rossi’s recklessness.

Wait, so Rossi can just feel the unsub is in the lobby? Oh god, he spooks the besjeezus out of me. I don’t like this side of him. I liked him when he was appreciating the team.

They’re trying to spook him into action by displaying credentials. Hotch, you smart puppy, you.

SHEMAR MOORE EYEBROW APPRECIATION #2 - I think my obssesion is getting unhealthy, just a tad

Aww, poodle found the unsub’s desk.

OH MY FUCK NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THANK FUCKING FUCK!

Don’t ever do this to me again, you fuckers!

ROSSI YOU SON OF A BITCH DON’T YOU DARE POINT A GUN WHEN MY BABY BOY IS IN THE LINE OF FIRE, I WILL CRUSH YOUR NUTSACK INTO A PULP AND YOU’LL WISH YOU HAD NEVER BEEN BORN!

Sorry, I’m protective of my TV babies.

I’m not happy.

Okay I’m happy again, my poodle is handing out treats to the kids.

AND SO IS MY BABY BOY! YOU PRETTY LITTLE PONY!

Baby is back home. Safe and sound.

Oh my god, David, you are in serious trouble now. He did not just pull out the ‘Hotch didn’t tell me he broke up with Hayley’ card, that is low, Italian sausage, super low.

I’m not really sure what to think of Dave right now.

What unfinished business, Rossi? You have someone to kill? To save? What’s hiding behind that immaculate tie and sassy beard?

Did Rossi just take up Gideon’s office? Oh god. This is hard on me, dude.

Again with the charm.

Oh god, now it’s official. My heart.

 Okay, so this episode was kind of weird and really annoying and awesome all at the same time. So we learned that Derek really is just a softie scardy-cat who hates Hallowe’en and I love him forever and ever for it. We learned that my poodle loves Hallowe’en. And David Rossi joined the team. Now, listen, I liked him in the beginning, he was a sassy awesome ball of Italian goodness that had me really impressed, but I don’t like that he’s THAT old school that he doesn’t let my band of superheroes in and help solve the case as a team.

Like Aaron said, “There is no I in team.” Well, he didn’t say that exactly, but it was implied.

I’m really curious on how they plan to evolve Rossi’s character. Joe is really good at showing micro expressions and I’m super psyched for this.

All right, I have to go and get ready for bed, had a weird day, cuz I had to go twice out on errands, then entertain my siblings who came to visit me, and now I’m super tired yet need ot take a shower.

So I’ll see you all next time, and till then, keep the likes up, guys! You’re so amazing for acknowledging my weird obsession with detail, lol <3 au revoir, mes amis