#New Haven movers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

schemmentigfs · 29 days ago

Text

Sweetening The Deal. (part 8.)

Summary: you officially move in to Melissa Schemmenti’s penthouse while waiting for your shared escape to Italy. Meanwhile, the redhead has a important conversation with a special someone.

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @greencurlyhair @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

The movers came right at noon, their hulking figures unloading the truck’s contents with practiced efficiency. Melissa Schemmenti stood near the entrance of her sleek penthouse, arms crossed and directing them like a general. Her dark, tailored pantsuit, sunglasses, ponytail and sharp heels added to the commanding air she carried so effortlessly. You trailed behind her, still adjusting to the surreal situation of moving into her home—her penthouse, no less. This wasn’t just a new address; it was a new life entirely.

Boxes of your belongings, marked with hasty scribbles in black marker, were placed carefully inside the massive space. It felt strange seeing your old things—a worn lamp, a stack of books with peeling covers, and even that rickety little chair you refused to part with—scattered against the pristine marble floors and towering glass windows that framed the Philadelphian city skyline.

As much as you were trying to hide your uneasiness and fear, the older woman noticed your distant gaze and turned to you, frowning slightly worried if anything seemed out of order or bothering you. “What’s wrong? Something is worrying you?”

You jumped and hid your hands behind your back, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… it’s weird seeing all my stuff here. Like it doesn’t actually belong to this world.”

Sharp features softened, green eyes meeting yours. “It belongs because you belong here, Y/N,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

“I guess,” you couldn’t argue with her—not when she looked at you like that, her confidence in her decision was so unshakable. The movers worked efficiently, but one of them accidentally bumped a white vase with flowers that Melissa had on a side table—a gift from her Nonna before she passed away years ago. She hissed under her breath, muttering something in Italian that you didn’t quite catch, but it sounded pissed.

“You know,” she said suddenly, turning to you as if struck by an idea. “We should go back to your old place. Make sure we didn’t forget anything.”

“My crappy apartment? Schemmenti, we didn’t forget anything. That place doesn’t exactly scream sentimental value.”

Her lips curved into a smirk. “Even so. Let’s make sure.”

The apartment complex felt smaller than you remembered. The once spacious rooms now seemed tight and suffocating, the walls closing in as you walked through the space. The wallpaper was peeling in large, uneven patches, revealing the dull plaster underneath. It looked tired, worn-out—just like the rest of the apartment. The once bright paint had faded over time, and the broken, flickering light bulbs did little to push back the shadows that seemed to cling to every corner. A faint, persistent smell of mildew filled the air, a reminder that the place had been left to deteriorate for far too long.

The kitchen, though small, had once been full of life, but now the counters were cluttered with stale crumbs and old dishes. The floor had been scuffed by years of use, and the cabinets creaked in protest when you opened them. The apartment was a shell of what it had been, a far cry from the airy, modern luxury of Melissa’s place.

And still, she wasn’t fazed. She had already been here with you months ago, before the move was decided, before your life had started to shift. She had seen the cracks in the walls, the way the apartment had become a haven for forgotten things, the place where you’d lived alone after everything had fallen apart. Still, it was as if this was the last step in the process—one more goodbye before she could take you to where you truly belonged.

You didn’t need to say it aloud; she had seen it, too. The emptiness here. The way it felt smaller and smaller every time you came back. Still, she didn’t complain. She never did. Her olive eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the space with a strange combination of detachment and intent, as though she were inspecting a crime scene. You followed her through the living room and into the kitchen, where the dull hum of the fridge was the only sound filling the air.

She was already moving with purpose, as though the place were nothing but a task to be handled, a box to check off. When she reached the counter, her hand stopped on a half-eaten piece of pizza, still on the table from the last time you’d lived here and had a poor meal before a day at work. It had clearly been forgotten, the cheese now hardened and the crust brittle, a sad reminder of meals that hadn’t been finished.

You watched as the older woman picked it up, her face scrunching up in mild disgust. “Uh, you should have some manners, doll. Leave the mess behind. You won’t be eating like this in my home,” she muttered under her breath before tossing the pizza into the trash can. The sound of it hitting the bottom was almost jarring in the silence.

As she stood there for a moment, wiping her hands on her pants, you couldn’t help but notice how out of place she looked in this run-down apartment. She was a woman of sharp edges, of clean lines, and this space—this was not her world. Still, she didn’t flinch, didn’t complain. She simply moved on, moving through the space with a cool, controlled presence, trying her best to ignore how everything around her seemed to scream of a time when you hadn’t been with her yet.

The movers had arrived, and their footsteps echoed throughout the space as they began to carefully carry out what was left of your precious belongings. Their eyes darted toward Melissa from time to time, taking in her sharp presence, the way she stood at the center of everything, so sure of herself, of what she was doing. A few of them smiled shyly, though they quickly looked away when they saw her catching their gaze. She didn’t need to say a word for them to know they had overstepped.

The redheaded woman rolled her eyes, a quick, annoyed gesture that revealed just a flicker of the jealousy from you she couldn’t fully hide. The workers may have been just doing their job, but in her mind, they were eyeing what was hers—what she was taking from this place.

You noticed the way she stiffened, just for a second, as the movers continued with their work. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but you could see it—the subtle twitch of her jaw, the way her gaze flickered to the men as they worked. She didn’t want to let it show, but you knew. You knew how she felt, how protective she could be when it came to you.

Trying to focus on anything else, Melissa made her way to the bedroom, where a few old pieces of furniture remained. She didn’t even look at you as she moved, her attention fully absorbed by the task at hand. You followed her, a mix of apprehension and sorrow bubbling up in your chest as the space grew emptier with every passing minute.

In the bedroom, you caught sight of her rifling through a drawer, her fingers pausing on an old photograph—a relic from your past. It was a picture of you and an old friend from years ago. The friend had moved across the country long before you and Melissa Schemmenti had met, but the photo had stayed. You hadn’t been able to part with it, not yet.

Her gaze softened, but only for a moment. She held up the picture, her eyes scanning it as though deciding what to do with it. “This,” she said, her voice low but firm, “shouldn’t stay here.”

You swallowed, your throat tight. “It’s just a stupid photo,” you whispered, though you could tell it wasn’t just a photo. It was a piece of your past, a reminder of someone you used to be.

Eyebrows were raised, a small but knowing smirk tugging at pink lips. “It’s your photo, mia amore. That makes it important.”

Melissa folded it up carefully and slipped it into her bag, her fingers brushing the edge of the picture one last time before she put it away. Her actions were so final, so deliberate, that it almost felt like she was closing a door on something you hadn’t been ready to let go of.

The poor movers, oblivious to the emotional undercurrent, continued to haul your things out of the apartment. You could hear the hum of their voices as they worked, but everything felt distant. The room was growing emptier, and you were reminded of how much you were leaving behind. It was more than just stuff, and you knew it, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to admit it.

“It’s just stuff,” you murmured under your breath, as though saying the words could somehow make them true.

But of course, your lover—if that was an appropriate title to call her and define the dynamic between you, caught the muttered words. She always did. Without hesitation, she rested her manicured hand on your shoulder, her touch firm and grounding. “It’s more than stuff,” she started, quieter, gentler. “But you don’t have to look back, cara mia. From now on, you’re with me.”

You didn’t need to say anything in response. The weight of her words, the certainty in her touch, was enough. You were leaving this place behind, but you weren’t leaving it alone.

The day had been exhausting, and by the time the two of you returned to Melissa Schemmenti’s penthouse, the weight of moving and memories had left a heavy quiet between you. Later that night, the faint aroma of freshly baked lasagna filled the minimalist kitchen that was two times larger than your old home. Melissa had insisted on cooking something decent on her own—she said it was her way of celebrating the move, of grounding you in your new home. You didn’t argue. After hours of packing, moving, and unpacking, you were too tired to do anything but sit back and let her take over. There were still a lot of things that needed packaging and organization but you didn't care about it now.

The lasagna, rich and comforting, was just the way you liked it—savory and hearty, with layers of cheese that melted perfectly against the meat sauce. It was a familiar dish, one of the first things your sugar mommy had ever made for you, and it brought with it a sense of home that was hard to ignore.

You took a bite, savoring the flavor as you leaned back in your chair, your legs stretched out lazily underneath the table. The beer bottles from the celebratory moment earlier sat empty on the counter, the buzz from the alcohol still humming in your veins. It was a bittersweet kind of celebration, both of excitement for the future and the sorrow of saying goodbye to so much of the past.

She sat across from you, her gaze sharp but soft, watching you intently. She had been unusually quiet, focused on you, on the way your lips curved with each bite of food, as though trying to keep you in the present moment, away from the ghosts of the past.

Speaking of her, Melissa was stunning tonight, though she didn’t seem to notice. Her auburn hair was swept back in a loose bun, strands escaping to frame her sharp features. She wore a casual button-up shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing just a hint of skin that you tried not to stare at too much. But the more you tried not to look, the harder it became.

Green eyes lingered on you as you took another bite, her fork paused mid-air like she’d forgotten about her own meal. There was a softness in her eyes, a kind of raw intensity that made your cheeks flush even in the dim light.

“What?” you asked, smiling nervously, the beer loosening your tongue.

Melissa set her fork down and leaned forward, her lips curling into that half-smirk that always made your stomach flip. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how good you look tonight.”

You felt the heat rise to your face, and suddenly, the room felt too small, too warm. You reached for your glass, taking a sip to distract yourself, but her eyes stayed on you, unyielding and full of something deeper than admiration.

As the meal wound down, the silence between bites stretched into something heavier, something charged. At one point, you reached for your beer just as the older woman reached for her wine, your hands brushing briefly. It was nothing, just a simple touch, but it sent a spark through your veins, and you both froze for a moment, locked in place as if the whole air had been sucked out of the room.

“Uh. Lasagna’s good,” you said finally, your voice a little too loud, a little too shaky.

“Glad you think so. Made it special tonight.”

“For me?” you teased, but your voice came out softer, more vulnerable than you intended.

“For you,” she confirmed, her tone dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

And then, as if by some invisible force pulling you both together, she leaned over the table, her hand brushing against yours, her lips hovering just a breath away. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until she closed the distance, her mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was as soft as it was consuming.

The world melted away for a moment, the taste of her white wine and your beer mingling as her lips moved against yours, slow and hungry. There was a hesitation, though—an unspoken restraint that neither of you dared to break. She moaned softly when you bit her lower lip and in that fleeting second, something shifted in you. The desire swelled, overwhelming, but you held back, knowing how much you wanted this—needed this connection.

Your pulse raced, and you couldn't help but think how badly you wanted to make love to Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti right now, to let go of every lingering doubt, every hesitation. To feel her body pressed against yours in the way only she could make you feel—alive, consumed. But there was something else in the air tonight, something delicate that begged for patience, for a gentler pace.

Still, you couldn’t deny it. You wanted her. More than you could put into words.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, your eyes searching hers for some kind of confirmation, some kind of permission to let go of the tension that had been building all night.

But the redheaded woman cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed, and reached for her napkin. “You’re drunk,” she signed, steadier than she felt.

“I’m not that drunk,” you protested, though the heat in your cheeks and the slight slur in your words betrayed you.

Instead, Melissa laughed, but it was tight, her sharp fingernails drumming lightly on the table as if trying to distract herself. “We still have a lot to do tomorrow. Don’t get ahead of yourself, hon.”

You smiled, but there was something in her tone, something in the way her gaze flickered away from yours, that made you realize she was fighting the same urge you were. The desire hung heavy between you, unspoken but clear, and it took every ounce of willpower for both of you to let it lie, untouched, for now.

Later, as she helped you to the spare bedroom, your steps unsteady from the beer, she caught you looking at her with that same heated gaze, the one that had been following her all night. She shook her head, more to herself than to you, and muttered. “You’re a pain in my fuckin’ ass, you know that?”

“A pain in the ass in a good way?” you quip, your voice sleepy but still playful.

Melissa didn’t answer, just pulled the covers over you and brushed a strand of hair from your face, her fingers lingering for a moment too long. “Sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, baby.”

But as she lay beside you later that night for comfort, her thoughts refused to quiet. The kiss lingered in her mind, the taste of you, the feel of you so close but still just out of reach. She loved you—she was certain of that—but the weight of that realization was almost too much to bear.

Her heart raced as she stared at the ceiling, panic rising in her chest like a wave threatening to pull her under. Without thinking, she slipped out of bed, grabbing her coat and keys. She needed air. She needed clarity.

It wasn’t long before the Italian found herself standing outside Barbara Howard’s door, her hand hesitating before knocking. The quiet neighborhood seemed to hold its breath as she finally rapped her knuckles against the wood.

When her long time friend and confidant opened the wooden door, her kind eyes immediately softened. “Melissa?” she asked, gentle but curious. “It’s midnight. What on earth are you—”

“I—” She began, her voice cracking slightly. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I need to talk to you, B. I’m losing my freakin’ mind over here.”

Barb stepped aside, motioning for her to come in. “Come on, then. Let’s figure this out, sweetheart.”

Melissa stepped inside, the weight of the night finally catching up to her as she sat down, her head in her hands. “I think I’m in over my head.” She sat on the worn but comfortable couch, her fingers gripping the edge of her coat. The familiar scent of lavender from Barbara’s diffuser filled the room, grounding her just enough to speak, though her voice came out strained and heavy.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair, which was messier than usual from the anxiety of the night.

Barbara, seated in her armchair with her legs crossed, leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped together. Her face was the picture of calm, a quiet invitation for her dear friend to take her time.

“I’m... I’m in this thing,” Melissa started, gesturing vaguely. “It started as a sugar mommy deal—an arrangement. She needed the money, I had the money. Simple, clean, no strings attached. But...” She paused, her throat tightening as she thought of your sweet, innocent face.

The brunette raised an eyebrow, her lips pursing slightly. “But?”

“But it didn’t stay that way. I thought I could keep it professional, y’know? Keep it about the money. But she’s... different. She’s smart, she’s funny, and she’s so damn stubborn sometimes it drives me nuts, but I can’t stop thinking about her. And suddenly I’m sitting, watching her eat lasagna, looking at me like I hung the moon, and I’m thinking, what the fuck am I doing?”

Barb let out a soft hum, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Melissa Schemmenti, I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve got a soft heart under all that bravado. What’s really bothering you?”

Melissa swallowed hard, her fingers tightening their grip on her coat. “It’s not just her. It’s everything. My family, the business... my ma. She’s getting worse.”

“Teresa?” the tone shifted, laced with quiet concern.

The redhead nodded, her jaw tightening. “Yeah. The dementia’s really setting in. Some days, she doesn’t even know who I am. And when she does, it’s not good, B. She’s mean, like always, but it’s different now. She’s confused, and it’s like... she’s still trying to control everything, even when she can’t remember why.”

“That must be hard, dear. For all of you.”

“It is,” Melissa admitted, breaking slightly. “And then there’s the rest of the family. You know the Schemmentis—always in each other’s business, always about the food, the reputation, the legacy. They act like I owe them something just because I’m the one who’s ‘made it.’” She threw up her hands in frustration. “And now, with Ma the way she is, they’re all looking at me like I’m supposed to fix everything. Like I’m the one who has to hold it all together.”

The eldest sighed deeply, her head shaking slowly. “Mel, that’s a lot to carry on your own.”

“That’s the thing, Barb. I’m not sure I can carry it. I’ve been trying to keep it together for so long, but it’s like... it’s all slipping through my fingers. And then there’s her—” Melissa stopped, her voice catching as she thought of you. “I promised her an escape. Lake Como, Italy. She’s never been, and I thought... I thought maybe if I could just get us out of here, away from all this mess, we could start over. Maybe I could have a life that’s just ours. But now, I don’t know if I can even make it happen. The family’s got their claws in everything. They’re watching my every move. I can’t breathe without them knowing.”

Barbara sat back in her chair, her lips pursed as she absorbed everything. “Melissa,” she said finally, her tone even but firm, “it sounds like you’re trying to be everything to everyone. That’s not sustainable.”

“I don’t have a choice!” she shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. She immediately softened, sighing heavily. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to... It’s just—she’s the one good thing I’ve got right now, hun. And I’m terrified I’m gonna screw it up, just like everything else.”

The brunette leaned forward, resting a gentle hand on the poor woman’s knee. “You’re not screwing anything up. You’re human. But you can’t pour from an empty cup. If you’re going to make this work—with her, with your family, with yourself—you need to let someone help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Melissa stared at her for a long moment, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not good at asking for help,” she sighed quietly.

“No, you’re not. But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Red lips twitched into a reluctant smile, though her olive eyes were still heavy with emotion. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Barbara squeezed her knee gently before standing. “Let me make you some tea. You’re staying here tonight. You can’t fix everything in one night, sweetheart. But you can start by getting some rest.”

The redhead opened her mouth to protest, but her friend shot her a look that silenced her immediately. She leaned back into the couch with a sigh, letting the weight of the night settle as Barb moved to the kitchen. For the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she didn’t have to carry it all on her own.

Back to the penthouse as the first light of dawn streamed through the curtains, painting the room in hues of pale orange and gold, you stirred awake, groggy from the beers you’d indulged in the night before, your head heavy but your thoughts immediately searching for the precious redhead woman.

Rolling over in the massive bed, you frowned when you realized her side was empty. The sheets were cool to the touch, and a pang of unease prickled in your chest.

“Mel?” you called out, your voice raspy from sleep. No response.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you padded barefoot across the plush carpet, glancing around the penthouse. The space was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. You made your way to the living room just as the elevator chimed softly, and the doors slid open.

Melissa stepped out, still in the same coat she’d left in last night, her red hair slightly disheveled and dark circles under her eyes. She stopped short when she saw you standing there, her expression shifting into something tender.

“Hey, what are you doin’ up?” she askedp as she dropped her keys on the console table.

You crossed the room without hesitation, wrapping your arms around her tightly. She froze for a second, surprised by the intensity of your hug, before her arms came around you, pulling you close. Her hands rested firmly against your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head.

“I woke up, and you weren’t here,” you whispered, muffled against her coat.

“I’m here now,” your sugar mommy said softly, her hand moving to stroke your messy hair. “Had some stuff to clear my head. That’s all.”

You pulled back just enough to look at her, your brows furrowed in concern. “Schemmenti..”

She silenced you with a small smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m fine. Promise. But how ‘bout we do somethin’ to start the day off right? What d’ya say we hit the pool?”

The suggestion made your lips curl into a faint smile. “The pool? Now?”

“Why not?” the older woman said, smirking slightly. “Sun’s comin’ up. It’s quiet. We’ll have it all to ourselves.”

The idea of floating in the serene water with her sounded perfect, so you nodded. “Okay. Let me grab my bikini.”

As you turned to head upstairs, Melissa’s hand casually drifted down to rest on your lower back. She let it slide lower as you walked ahead, her fingers deliberately brushing against your ass.

You gasped, glancing over your shoulder at her with a deadly glare. “Really?”

She shrugged, her smirk growing. “Just checkin’ the goods. What? I’m your sugar mommy, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you hurried upstairs to change. Behind you, the redhead stood there for a moment, shaking her head with a grin she couldn’t suppress.

“Impossible,” she muttered fondly to herself before heading to the kitchen to grab towels for the two of you.

The pool glistened under the mid-morning sunlight, its surface a tranquil expanse of blue. You were sprawled out on a large inflatable float, lazily drifting across the water with a paperback in hand. The cover read The Price of Salt— the same book Melissa Schemmenti made fly on the floor like it was nothing and your voice carried softly across the quiet space as you read aloud.

“They were looking at each other, and it was as if someone had pulled a curtain back...” you trailed off, biting your lip as you processed the passage.

Melissa, lounging nearby with a glass of iced tea in hand, raised an eyebrow at you. “Let me guess,” she said dryly, “you’re gonna tell me this is like us.”

You smirked, lowering the book just enough to meet her gaze. “It is like us. Carol is sophisticated, gorgeous, a little intimidating... and Therese? She’s young, creative, figuring her life out. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

The forty-five year old snorted, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, except for one thing.”

“What’s that?” you asked, already knowing she had some jab lined up.

“Therese probably knows how to swim.”

You scowled, sitting up slightly on the float. “I can swim. Kind of.”

Melissa rolled her eyes, setting her glass down and standing. She sauntered over to the edge of the pool, her hands on her hips as she looked down at you. “You can’t even dog paddle, bambi. What’re you gonna do in Lake Como? Sit in the boat lookin’ pretty while I do all the work?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you refused to back down. “Maybe I’ll just stay on the shore. Ever think of that?”

“Not a chance. I’m not takin’ you all the way to Italy just for you to stay dry.” She stepped down into the water, wading over to you with a determined glint in her eye.

“What are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as she reached you.

“Teachin’ you how to float,” the redhead woman said simply, placing her hands on the float to steady it.

You groaned, setting your book aside. “Lis, I’m fine like this.”

“Nope. You’re not gettin’ outta this one,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a swift motion, she tipped the float just enough to slide you gently into the water. You shrieked, splashing as you flailed instinctively.

“What the—Fuck?! This is insane!” you screamed, your grip on the float tightening as your heart pounded faster. The unfamiliar sensation of the water surrounding you made your chest tighten with anxiety. “I swear, I’m gonna die from this. I’ll drown, and it’ll be your fault.”

“Relax!” Melissa was surprisingly calm, her hands immediately finding your waist to steady you. “I got you.”

You glared at her, water dripping down your face. “You tipped me on purpose!”

“Yeah, and you’re fine,” she said, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Now lean back.”

You hesitated, your body tense, but Melissa’s hands remained firm and reassuring on your waist. Slowly, you let her guide you, your back arching as you tried to relax against the water.

“There you go. See? The water’s holdin’ you up. Nothin’ to be scared of.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your body finally starting to trust the water. The woman’s hands lingered, one slipping to the small of your back while the other rested just beneath your shoulders.

“Good girl.”

The tension between you shifted, growing heavier as you became acutely aware of how close she was. Her hands, her gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as she watched you—it was overwhelming.

“You’re really close,” you whispered, though you made no move to pull away.

The smirk returned, softer this time. “I am.”

Before you could respond, she leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like she had all the time in the world. The coolness of the water contrasted with the heat of her mouth, sending a shiver down your spine. You reached up, your fingers tangling in her wet hair as you kissed her back, the float forgotten as you lost yourself in her touch.

The kiss lingered for a moment longer, your breaths mingling in the warm air above the cool water. When Melissa finally pulled back, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander as you floated there, still half-cradled in her arms. The wet fabric of her sleek black one-piece clung to her in all the right places, leaving very little to the imagination.

It wasn’t until your gaze traveled upward that you noticed the way her nipples had hardened beneath the thin material, the chill of the water making itself known.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing despite the casual intimacy you shared with her. “You, uh…”

Melissa raised a brow, clearly catching your drift as her eyes followed yours downward. A subtle smirk crept across her face. “You starin’, principessa?”

You sputtered, turning your head away as a nervous laugh bubbled out of you. “No! I wasn’t—well, maybe a little. But it’s your fault for looking like that!”

She chuckles. “Oh, looking like that, huh? What’re you gonna do about it?”

You glanced back at her, your face warm but your bratty instincts kicking in. “Well, maybe I won’t let you teach me to swim after all,” you said with mock defiance, crossing your arms over your chest as best you could while floating.

Melissa’s dark expression deepened, her grip on your waist tightening just enough to pull you closer. “Oh, you’re not gettin’ outta this,” she murmured, her voice dipping into a husky tone that sent a warm sensation down your legs. “And don’t think I didn’t notice where your eyes were. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You laughed, your body relaxing in her hold despite the flutter of nerves and desire that coursed through you. “You’re the bitch teasing me,” you muttered, though your tone lacked any real annoyance.

“Teasing you?” she repeated, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. “I think you’ve got it backward, sweetheart.”

The way her voice dropped sent heat pooling low in your belly, and you had to fight the urge to wrap yourself around her right there in the water. But as her hands slid over your waist again, steadying you, you couldn’t help the way your body leaned into hers.

The tension between you crackled, but Melissa finally let out a soft sigh, pressing one last kiss to your temple. “Alright, brat. Let’s focus. Lake Como isn’t gonna wait forever, and I’m not lettin’ you drown when we get there.”

Her words brought you back to reality, though the warmth of her touch lingered. You nodded, trying to steady yourself, even as your heart raced. “Fine. But if I get this right, you owe me.”

“Trust me, you’ll get your reward soon enough.”

(Next Chapter.)

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

158 notes · View notes

wub-fur-radio · 4 months ago

Text

Psychedelic Psounds of Pseptember 2024

Blowing in to town like a desert wind in a late summer California heat wave, Wub-Fur presents another rocking and eclectic streaming mix of new psychedelic indie rock music for your listening pleasure. Featuring hot hits and cool tracks by Ty Segall, the Shivas, Oh Sees, King Gizzard, Mountain Movers, Black Market Karma, Causa Sui, Meatbodies, and a half dozen more bands who know why the P’s are silent.

▶︎🎶 Listen on Mixcloud –or– Apple Music

Running Time: 1 hour, 4 seconds

Tracklist

Intro: Intro by Connections (0:13)

Can't Do That (5:21) — ORB | Geelong, Australia

Nightmare Song (3:09) — The Shivas | Portland, OR

Drug City (2:52) — Oh Sees | Los Angeles, CA

Field of Vision (3:33) — King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard | Melbourne, Australia

I Hear (4:29) — Ty Segall | Los Angeles, CA

Oozer (3:33) — Black Market Karma | Dover, UK

Dusk Dwellers (5:14) — Causa Sui | Denmark

My Holy Shrine (4:06) — Mountain Movers | New Haven, CT

Daisy (3:38) — The Silk RailRoad | Portland, OR

Noche Luna (5:05) — Pez Globo | Argentina

Anthropia (6:59) — Karkara | Toulouse, France

Rescue (5:41) — The Asteroid No.4 | San Francisco, CA

Psychic Garden (4:45) — Meatbodies | Los Angeles, CA

Aurora (1:26) — Valley of the Sun | Cincinnati, OH

All tracks released in 2024 (except, if you want to get technical about it, the 13-second intro, which is from 2018).

#psychedelic rock #neo psychedelia #indie rock #garage rock #stoner rock #music mixes

164 notes · View notes

hursheys · 2 months ago

Text

HOMEY-MOON.

꒰♡꒱﹑ IN WHICH all your husband wants is to build a home with you during your honeymoon.

ıllı . ##2022 ( DRABBLE ) && yudai x fem. reader. beware. established relationship, marriage, newlyweds, honeymooners shit, fluff, kissing, suggestive at the end. wc. 0.4k!

&𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 ◞♡ ⃗. fill THIS form out to be added.

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 ◞♡ ⃗. @kstrucknet @slytherinshua @welcometomyoasis

AUTHORS NOTE ♡⃕. i'm sick. where can i build this man for myself? thank you zanna for the brainrot <3. if you enjoyed please like and reblog!

“That box goes there, these go in the kitchen, and this one comes to our bedroom,” you instruct, carefully balancing a box of books in your arms as you give final directions to the movers and your husband.

From the moment you and Yudai got engaged, you both knew you wanted to start your life together in a home you could call your own. It was a joint decision to prioritize buying a house over a honeymoon, and now, just days after your wedding, you’re both standing in your new home, ready to turn it into a place of love and comfort.

As the movers leave, you and Yudai immediately spring into action. You head to the kitchen, eager to make it the heart of your home, while Yudai starts assembling furniture, determined to turn your house into a cozy haven. It’s a beautiful display of teamwork, each of you working towards the same goal in your own way.

“Mr. Koga, would you like some water?” you call out cheerfully, wiping sweat from your brow as you decide to take some respite. You hear Yudai hum in agreement from across the room, his focus unwavering.

When you finally reach him, glasses of water in hand, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him. He is bent over, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, deeply engrossed in the assembly manual. The soft sound of wooden pieces being connected and the occasional clink of tools lend a comforting rhythm to the atmosphere. You admire his determination, knowing how hard he works to transform your house into a cosy home.

Unbeknownst to you, you are captivated by the sight of your husband, who is all too aware of your lingering gaze. He flexes his muscles with a smirk as he works, well aware of how much you appreciate it, given your endless compliments about his physique.

At the sight of his infuriating smirk, you huff and roll your eyes as you hand him his drink. He laughs, standing up and pulling you into his embrace.

“What is it, Mrs. Koga?” he asks, eyeing the playful smile on your lips, a similar one stretching across his face.

“Not much, Husband,” you reply playfully. “It’s just that you don’t have to work to win me over anymore; I literally married you.”

He hums while tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “You might be right, but I will never stop trying to win you over. Now—” You squeal as he effortlessly sweeps you off your feet and carries you bridal style toward the inviting atmosphere in your bedroom.

“Let me try to win you over once more, wife.”

#女 ˒ layout inspired by 𝗲𝗻𝗺𝗶 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 ⋆. 🩹 ᰍ #yudai #𝚠𝚠𝚠.𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝔁𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖.𝚌𝚘𝚖 #kstrucknet #𝜗𝜚.. 𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟 writes #yudai &team #yudai x reader #koga yudai #koga yudai x reader #koga yudai &team #yudai andteam #andtram #&team #k andteam #k &team #k x reader

71 notes · View notes

cutecurly-hair · 1 year ago

Text

Hearts Unleashed (Part 1)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 2234

Please interact and comment to keep it going. I always love to know what you think.

"What does this mean?" I stared at the piece of paper clutched tightly in my hand. My mom's eyes held an unmistakable unease as she replied, her voice tinged with worry, "This is our plane ticket to England."

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I glanced at the tickets. "We're going to England for a vacation! I had a feeling this year would be different. Do you think we can visit Paris while we're there? I heard it's just a quick train ride away."

My mom chuckled nervously, her laughter quivering. "That's the thing, honey, this isn't just a vacation; it's permanent."

My brows furrowed as I examined the ticket more closely, finally noticing the bold "ONE WAY" printed in the upper right corner. "What do you mean, one way?" Confusion washed over me, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"It means we'll be officially moving to England. I applied for a new job there, and I got it," my mom explained as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She saw the panic in my eyes and hurriedly added, "I understand it's sudden, but I think this will be a great change for us. I've even found a fantastic school with an amazing film program that I know you'll love."

My mind raced. "I don't even know what to say. Why are you telling me this now?" My whole life was here in America, and the idea of packing up and moving to another country was almost too much to bear.

"Honey, I know it's sudden, but they called me today, and they need me to start immediately. That's why we have to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! I don't even have time to pack, let alone say goodbye to my friends. We can't just uproot ourselves from LA and head to England." I looked around our apartment, a cozy haven that had been my home for the past seven years. It felt like things were finally getting back to normal.

I glanced at the ticket again and saw the fine print: Departing from LAX tomorrow at 10:45 am. "I should really start wearing my glasses," I muttered under my breath.

My mom tried to reassure me, "Everything will work out fine. I've hired movers to come during the week and help ship the rest of our stuff. Tonight, all we need to do is pack our personal things and head to the airport first thing in the morning."

I felt like I wanted to argue, but then I saw how tired my mom looked. Her face seemed really worn out, and she had a tired look in her eyes. It made me realize that maybe I hadn't been paying enough attention to how she was feeling lately.

I decided not to bring up my concerns because I didn't want to make things worse. I didn't want to fight with my mom when she already seemed so tired and stressed. So, I chose to keep quiet and let it go for now, even though I still had my worries.

As we stepped off the plane in London, the dark grey skies clouded my vision, and the unfamiliar air filled my lungs. Instantly, I began to miss home. With half of my life packed away in two large suitcases and three duffel bags, this was definitely going to take some getting used to.

"Have your other bags arrived yet?" my mom asked, her eyes darting to the time on her wrist.

"Sorry for making you wait," I replied with a sigh. "When you're packing your whole life into a bag, it tends to take a while." I was far from being in a good mood after only managing to grab a couple of hours of sleep, spending one of them writing an overly dramatic paragraph to my friends about where I'd be for the next few years.

"There's no need to get sassy with me, Y/n," my mom chided. "I'm just worried about the time. I don't want to be late for the shuttle. If we miss this one, the next won't be for another three hours. And I'm sure you don't want to spend that much time at the airport."

Before I could respond, I spotted my color-coded bags moving slowly along the conveyor belt. I collected them and loaded them onto a trolley, then couldn't help but add a mockingly sweet tone, "Now, we can go."

My mom led the way to the shuttle, looking a bit lost in the bustling airport. She approached a stranger for directions, and I listened intently, realizing I needed to get used to the distinct accent. My mom thanked the stranger urgently, and we hurriedly made our way to catch the shuttle, leaving behind the life I'd known in America.

Arriving at our new home in England I couldn't help that there was a mix of excitement and trepidation. I had seen pictures of the place, but it was entirely different to stand in front of it, knowing that it was going to be our home for the foreseeable future. My mom, ever the optimist, had put in tremendous effort to ensure it was the best flat on the block.

As we approached the building, I noticed the quaint charm of the neighborhood. Rows of terraced houses with colorful front doors lined the cobblestone streets. It was a far cry from the sunny, palm tree-lined avenues of Los Angeles that I had called home.

My mom had informed me earlier that her new job had provided relocation money, and she had spent hours researching and visiting potential flats to find one that met all our needs. She was determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for me, especially since I wasn't exactly thrilled about changing schools.

The flat itself was a cozy two-bedroom apartment on the top floor of a charming Victorian building. It had large windows that let in plenty of natural light, and I could see the spires of an old church in the distance. The living room had plush sofas, and I could just imagine the walls being adorned with artwork from home. She had even managed to find a flat with a small balcony where we could enjoy tea on sunny afternoons.

As we stepped inside, I couldn't help but be impressed by how homely it felt, despite being in a foreign country. My room, though smaller than what I was used to, had a window overlooking the quiet street below. I packed some of my posters and photographs from our life in LA, making it feel like a small piece of home.

As I unpacked my belongings, I couldn't help but reflect on the whirlwind of changes that had brought us here. My parents' divorce had been a long and sometimes painful process, but with me finishing up middle school, it seemed like the right time for a fresh start.

In my mom's perspective, this move was a chance for something new and exciting, a way to turn the page on a difficult chapter in our lives. But for me, I felt like I was just along for the ride, caught up in the decisions made by the adults in my life. It wasn't easy to accept that we were starting over in a completely different country.

While I tried to look on the bright side, I couldn't shake the feeling that my mom should have told me about it much sooner. The truth was that I was still deeply hurt and confused.

But as I glanced out the window of our new flat and saw the quaint streets of our new neighborhood, I knew that, in time, I would find my place in this new chapter of our lives. Change might not come overnight, but I was determined to make the most of it and find the silver lining in our fresh start.

—-----

A whole week had passed, and I swear my boredom had reached Olympic levels. Our furniture from LA finally showed up a few days ago, and let me tell you, I became the world champion of room redecorating in record time. But apart from that impressive feat, my life had all the excitement of a cardboard box. School isn't kicking off until Monday, which gives me a gentle nudge that I should probably check out the film program my mom's been raving about.

Feeling all organized and responsible, I sat down and sketched out the route from our place to the school. It's like a 20-minute walk, which I can totally handle once I get the hang of it. But if I'm feeling a bit lazy (which happens, like, all the time), there's a nifty 10-minute bus ride option. Plus, my mom's still knee-deep in paperwork to send our car overseas, so it's official I'm becoming a bus pro.

Then I checked out the school's website, and the film program doesn't look half bad. They've got this YouTube channel packed with short films that are more interesting than binge-watching cat videos. And here's the real kicker they've got a partnership with Netflix! I mean, seriously, how did they manage to pull that off? They're talking about workshops and internships, and I'm just here thinking,

"Who's the magician that got Netflix on board?" That seriously is impressive.

Looking out of the window, I couldn't believe my luck the sun was actually shining for once! After days of nothing but gray skies, it felt like a small miracle. I was starting to understand that sunny days were a rare commodity in this place. So, I thought, why not make the most of it while I could?

I swapped out my usual outfit for a pair of comfy shorts and a cool graphic tee. In a flash, I was out the door, ready to savor every bit of that precious sunshine.

As I continued my stroll through the neighborhood, I stumbled upon a charming park nestled amidst the houses. The sunlit meadow was dotted with people, and what caught my eye was the number of folks out and about with their dogs. It was becoming evident that this was definitely a big dog-loving community, and the park was their social hub.

I watched as playful pups frolicked, tails wagging with unbridled enthusiasm, and their owners chatted amicably, forming a tight-knit community within the community. It felt heartwarming to witness such camaraderie, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight.

I stumbled upon the perfect photo opportunity, one that would fit perfectly in my collection. I'd forgotten my camera at home, but my trusty phone would have to do. As I aimed to capture the moment, an unexpected collision sent my phone tumbling to the ground.

Before I could get a word out, the other person beat me to the punch. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going," he said, hastily bending down to retrieve both of our phones. It turned out he had dropped his phone as well.

I felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up. "No, no, it's alright. It was my fault for standing right in the middle of the walkway," I replied, cheeks tinged with a hint of red.

He handed back my phone with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Hopefully, it didn't crack," he said, his own cheeks taking on a shade of pink.

I shook my head, trying to conceal my own embarrassment. "No big deal. You might have done me a favor, actually. It's about time I got a new phone, and this could be the perfect excuse," I quipped, waving my phone playfully. The boy chuckled warmly.

"Thanks for not making me feel awful about it," he admitted, appearing relieved. "I'm Charlie, by the way." He extended his hand, and I shook it with a friendly smile.

I responded, "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Charlie." The friendly atmosphere that had enveloped us earlier seemed to dissipate, leaving an awkward silence in its wake.

Charlie finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with shyness. "Sorry, but I can't help but notice the accent..."

I smiled, realizing his curiosity. "Oh yeah, I'm from America. We just moved here last week, right down the block," I stated, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement. "Right down the block! I live right down that way." I couldn't help but feel my own excitement grow.

"I live where the new flats were built, I think they're called the Avalone Suites or something," I mentioned. Charlie's face instantly lit up with recognition.

"I live right across from you! Everyone around the block has been raving about the new building," he exclaimed,

As Charlie and I walked back to my apartment, he chatted animatedly about the neighborhood, sharing tidbits about the local shops, nearby parks, and the best places to grab a bite. It was clear he was friendly and genuinely excited to have a new neighbor.

During our conversation, we made another delightful discovery – we were both going to the same school. It was a pleasant surprise that eased my earlier concerns about not knowing anyone in this new place.

By the time we reached my apartment building, Charlie had almost talked my ear off, but I didn't mind one bit. With a warm smile, I turned to him and said, "Thanks for walking me back, Charlie. I guess I won't be starting school completely alone."

Charlie grinned in response; his eyes filled with genuine friendliness. "Anytime, Y/N. I'm looking forward to seeing you at school."

We added each other on each other's socials before we parted ways.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/727972531449020416/hearts-unleashed-part-2?source=share

#kit connor #black reader #nick nelson x reader #black!fem!reader #heartstopper #nick nelson x y/n #nick nelson fanfic #nick nelson x fem!reader #nick nelson x blackreader #charlie spring #heartstopper fanfic #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper fandom

160 notes · View notes

intertexts · 7 months ago

Text

new haven wards thought dump under the cut....!!!!!!! 💥

william bell / wraith-- breaker, shaker, stranger / his breaker state manifests as a crackling form of white-blue fire; he can control how visible or how much this form manifests; the less visible it is, the harder it is to affect the physical world. *crucially, it thereby evades the manton effect organic/inorganic limitation. [in addition to this, whenever he's in his breaker form, he can manifest, shape, and control energy where the energy's volume/strength is directly relative to the amount of recent death in the near vicinity. the energy manifests as similar ghostly fire.] + post second trigger in deadwood, his ability to shape, maintain, and cloak this energy in illusory appearances is greatly heightened.

dakota damascus / failsafe-- mover, thinker / capable of extremely fast and controlled flight [around 90mph top speed] and movement, with similarly heightened perceptual processing. in addition, he senses whatever future pain that anyone in a several block radius will experience in the next shortly before it happens, and lasting as long as the sensation does. this manifests primarily as a dulled, ambient sensation that can be focused in w/ similarly mirrored pain to pinpoint who and what. this perception cannot be 'turned off.'

virion sol / imprint-- trump / copies abilities by touching another parahuman. the copied abilities maintain the full strength of the original, but he does not similarly gain an awareness of how to familiarly use the ability. for many powers and with experience, this isn't a problem, but there are also many which are not only be difficult to learn and inefficient but also debilitating to himself and/or others [i.e. overwhelming sensory input, difficult to control]. he cannot turn this ability off-- any skin-to-skin contact with another parahuman will result in copying of their powers, with any previous copied abilities he has being erased. he keeps these abilities for as long as he can concentrate on holding them: familiar and frequently-used powers he can often keep for hours at a time, while mentally overwhelming or potent powers slip out of his grasp quickly and leave him with migraines or other symptoms of distress.

ashe winters / auxiliary / muse-- shaker, breaker / pure telekinesis affecting inorganic material with an upper limit several times his body weight. the longer he's actively using his power and the more strain it's under, the more powerful the telekinesis becomes and the less lucid he becomes, with his powers moving more and more on autopilot until he catches on, pulls himself back, is pulled back or knocked out. in certain rare and unfortunate situations, almost always preceded by this death spiral his breaker state involuntarily triggers: in these scenarios, his power narrows down to a smaller radius around him, within which physics and spatial laws of reality melt, bubble, and shift in improbable, dreamlike, and irrational ways.

#HI. BIG WET AUTISM EYES. lol. ive been thinking about this fucking incessantly and i loove talking ab powers as specifically as possible.#still not sure abt all thisssss first draft ass shit. bouncing around w my hands in my pocket waiting for mac 2 get a bit further in so the #can also spitball this shit with me. lot of this feels kind of insanely broken but like. they are a Big Deal in this world..#new haven wards #pd lb #updated as of 9/17/24 btw :]

16 notes · View notes

luke-o-lophus · 1 year ago

Text

A Ship of Theseus

Summary: Half a year after Ammit, the Moon Boys have moved in with Layla again. One day, there's a special delivery. A blast from the past, in the most mundane way imaginable.

A/N: A character study of an adult survivor of childhood abuse. What is means for memories, belongings, and justice

------------------------------------------------------------------

It's another of those days.

On most days recently, stuff around the house is just...stuff. Then every once in a while, they seem to stare back at him. Try to provoke him into a conversation, introspection, memories.

Until recently, there wasn't a lot of belongings Marc had held on to. When he'd left the house, he could take only as much as he could fit in two bags. And he definitely wasn't aiming to include keepsakes. In a way, that had been easier: living in a space that looked absolutely different. It was easier to pretend the child in his memories wasn't really him, or at best was just a version of him. It's been fifteen years since.

When Marc moved back in with Layla, half a year past the Ammit situation, things had become completely different. Steven was in the picture now, and he came with his massive stack of books and an aquarium Marc found unnecessarily huge for two fish. "It's bigger than my army room", Marc had grumbled to Layla one evening as he helped her carry her stuff into their new apartment.

Between her and Steven, it's easy to lose yourself in the warmth of home. At least that's what Marc had hoped to do. Until Elias called again. As he does. When Marc refused to speak to him, Steven suddenly found himself on call with a father he had no memory of having. But Elias called to talk business. He was selling some old furniture from the house; too much stuff for one person he said. Layla listened to it all with rapt attention as her husband curled up on her lap. It was the memories that were hanging too heavy on Elias, that much was obvious. But she wouldn't tell Marc that, she wouldn't set him on another path of feeling guilt for his choice of cutting contacts. Marc had already done enough, and Elias not nearly so.

Two months later, Packers and Movers delivered a mountain of packages from his once 'home'. Marc eyed the pile with obvious distress, second guessing his choice of accepting the unused furniture just sitting around the house. It'd saved them good bucks they could now use towards a proper honeymoon in the Maldives.

The biggest piece of furniture was a heavy desk, now dismantled into pieces and neatly packed. It had been a gift from his grandfather when he turned five. The man liked to spoil his grandkids. In the years since, the table became his sanctuary. He sketched and played on it, and hid under it when needed. The table had been his constant, his only witness. The only piece of wood in that house he found claim to.

But seeing it now, in this form, sent a chill down his spine. The power tools were ready, it'd take just hours to put it all together. Piece by piece, construct back the silent observer of all those childhood experiences: the ones he remembered, and the ones forever lost to memory. He'd have to bring them back, by his own hands.

Layla was only a little surprised when she came home that evening. Normally Marc hated having things lying around, leading to endless complaints of Steven's untidiness. But she'd guessed the table would be, quite literally, a lot to unpack.

"You don't have to", she told him over a cup of tea. "We can sell it, or put it in storage somewhere. Anything." Marc sighed deeply, shaking his head. "It's mine. But I...", he didn't really want it around. It wasn't comforting. His home with his wife and his alter was his safe haven.

But it's also sacred. Some planks of wood simply nailed together; the weight of which only his tiny young shoulders knew. In one teasing example of the ship of Theseus, Steven told him. If you take it apart piece by piece, and build it back together, is it the same anymore?

Marc doesn't know. He leaves the philosophical shit to him and Layla. But he does know what it makes him feel, unlike either of them. It's only him, and the voice inside of him, flaring up from all those scared memories of a bruised kid hidden beneath the wide tabletop. Teary eyes demanding justice...from himself if not from anyone else.

It's been almost thirty years, and Marc still doesn't know what justice looks like for them. How is he supposed to make the correct decision? From the opposite wall, the propped up packages seem to follow every movement...observing, judging, waiting.

"I was thinking...", Layla chimes in breaking his train of thought. "We should head to Maldives in October. Weather should clear up by then...and it won't be too hot." Marc purses his lips in thought, considering the idea, glancing between the cardboard and Layla's jade black eyes.

"That's two months, huh? Yeah...should be enough time to plan", he shrugs. "Tell Steven, he'll be thrilled." "We can finish setting up the flat when we're back", she starts washing the cups. Marc stares at her back, as she's seemingly lost in her world. Another deep sigh, his eyes closed, memories of the desk, memories of this kitchen countertop, Layla sitting on it...the day they made S'mores together. "Yeah...", he smiles, walking up to her and putting the cups away. "I'll....put these in the storeroom till then?"

"Yeah sure, we can deal with them once we're back." she flashes him a blinding grin. "So, honeymoon, huh?"

Marc chuckles, and wraps her in his warmest hug.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #luke shares #moonscarab #layla el faouly #marc x layla #angst #hurt/comfort #hurt comfort #character study #marc doesnt know about jake yet #tw child abuse #aftermath of abuse #adult survivors of childhood abuse #moon knight fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 4 months ago

Text

The COVID-19 pandemic’s sudden onset in 2020 and its persistent impacts in ensuing years posed new challenges for large U.S. cities and metropolitan areas.

Some of the initial challenges were related to the specific nature of the coronavirus and public health responses. In March 2020, residents of cold, dense cities seemed at greater risk of contracting the airborne illness than those in more spread-out, temperate communities where people could spend time outside year-round.1 More persistent challenges are related to the rapid adoption of remote work technologies, which enable certain kinds of work to be done anywhere with a high-speed internet connection, and not necessarily in big-city downtowns dominated by what today are increasingly vacant office buildings.

In an increasingly hyper-polarized country, some of these dynamics intersected with partisan politics. Republican-led states such as Florida and Texas positioned themselves as refuges for movers seeking escape from “Covid lockdowns” in Democratic-led states. In response to these and other political factors, Elon Musk moved Tesla’s headquarters from Silicon Valley to Austin, Texas, and a prominent Chicago financier moved his hedge fund to Miami after his employees started working from a high-end hotel there during the height of the pandemic.

The housing market also played a role in fueling migration during this time. As more people worked from home, demand for homeownership rose, particularly for larger homes. For example, in San Diego County—which for many years had built little new housing—median home prices skyrocketed from $660,000 in January 2020 to $860,000 just two years later, according to Zillow. Prices also rose in more affordable, flexible markets, but much more modestly; in Houston over that same time, the median home price increased from $195,000 to $240,000.

My colleague William H. Frey was among the first to document significant migration away from big metro areas during the pandemic. His analysis of U.S. Census Bureau data showed accelerated domestic out-migration from large, coastal metro areas such as New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Boston, and Seattle between 2020 and 2021. Domestic in-migration, meanwhile, remained strong in Sun Belt metro areas such as Phoenix, Dallas, Tampa, Fla., San Antonio, and Raleigh, N.C. Frey’s subsequent analysis showed these trends moderated through 2022 and 2023 as the initial impacts of the pandemic subsided.

Even if they are temporary in some respects, these recent migration patterns could have lasting impacts. Richard Florida, for instance, points to the rise of “meta cities”—large U.S. metro areas distant from each other yet linked closely by the ties of remote work and Covid-era movers, such as New York and Miami (finance), the Bay Area and Austin (tech), and Los Angeles and Nashville, Tenn. (entertainment). The Economic Innovation Group chronicled a loss of high earners from major urban centers such as New York, San Francisco, and Washington, D.C. during the first two years of the pandemic. The home listing service Redfin, meanwhile, noted rising housing demand in affordable markets proximate to major metro areas (e.g., New Haven, Conn. outside New York; Richmond, Va. outside Washington, D.C.; Worcester, Mass. outside Boston), suggesting the growing prominence of hybrid (versus fully remote) work arrangements. How these dynamics play out could have significant implications for the economic and social health of cities, and for America’s urban hierarchy in the 21st century.

To better understand these dynamics, this report analyzes data from the Internal Revenue Service’s (IRS) Statistics of Income program on U.S. population migration at the county level. The data tracks individual income tax filers who changed addresses from one year to the next, and reports the number of tax filers moving between counties (a proxy for households), the number of personal exemptions among those filers (a proxy for individuals), and the total adjusted gross income reported on their returns (a proxy for household income). While the IRS migration data is only currently available through 2022 (versus 2023 in Census Bureau migration data), it has the advantages of tracking movements between specific counties and revealing something about the economic status of migrating households.2

This report uses the IRS county-level migration data to track movement before and after the pandemic’s onset among U.S. metropolitan areas, which are collections of counties that approximate regional economies and labor markets.3 The analysis assigns each county in the dataset to its corresponding metro area based on the latest Census Bureau metropolitan delineations.4 An important limitation of the IRS data is that it suppresses county-to-county flows of fewer than 20 tax filers to protect taxpayer privacy. In 2021-22, for instance, the data reflects a total of 7.6 million U.S. filers moving to metropolitan counties, with the source county indicated for 5.8 million of them. This means that the county-to-county data misses 1.8 million households (or 23% of all households) moving to metropolitan counties in 2021-22. Many of these households likely moved from small, non-metropolitan counties, but the flows among metro areas charted here inevitably miss moves occurring between smaller counties in metro areas of all sizes.

Despite this limitation, the IRS data is useful for answering basic questions about domestic migration and the possible impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic. Focusing on the nation’s metropolitan areas, this analysis specifically asks if and how the pandemic may have altered the:

Overall level of migration within and among metro areas

Key metropolitan origins and destinations of movers

Economic character of movers, and/or their sending/receiving communities

In general, the analysis confirms that the pandemic made an impact on metropolitan migration patterns, but also finds that these changes did not significantly alter the demographic or economic trajectory of metro regions. The analysis concludes with thoughts on the implications of these patterns as the economy returns to a “new normal” in the pandemic’s aftermath.

4 notes · View notes

aplusmllc · 1 month ago

Text

Top Reasons to Opt for Full-Service Moving Companies in Connecticut

Opting for a full-service moving company can significantly ease the stress of relocating. In Connecticut, A Plus Moving LLC stands out as a premier choice for those seeking full-service local movers in Connecticut. Here are the top reasons why you should consider hiring A Plus Moving LLC for your next move, especially if you're in the New Haven area.

Comprehensive Services

One of the most compelling reasons to choose A Plus Moving LLC is their comprehensive range of services. As a full-service moving company, they handle every aspect of your move, from packing and loading to transportation and unpacking. This means you can focus on other important aspects of your move, such as settling into your new home or office.

Key Services Offered:

Packing and Unpacking: Their team will carefully pack your belongings using high-quality materials to ensure everything arrives safely.

Loading and Unloading: Professional movers efficiently load and unload your items, minimizing the risk of damage.

Transportation: A Plus Moving LLC has a fleet of well-maintained vehicles suitable for all types of moves, whether you're relocating across town or across the state.

Specialty Moves: They specialize in moving pianos and other large items, ensuring they are transported safely.

Expertise and Experience

With over 25 years in the industry, A Plus Moving LLC has built a reputation as one of the most trusted local movers in New Haven, CT. Their experienced team understands the unique challenges associated with moving and is equipped to handle any situation that may arise.

Why Experience Matters:

Problem-Solving Skills: Experienced movers can anticipate potential issues and address them proactively.

Efficiency: Knowledgeable teams work quickly and efficiently, reducing the time it takes to complete your move.

Safety Protocols: They are trained in best practices for handling fragile items and heavy furniture, ensuring everything is moved safely.

Stress Reduction

Moving can be one of life's most stressful events. By opting for a full-service mover like A Plus Moving LLC, you significantly reduce this stress. Their team takes care of all the logistics involved in moving, allowing you to enjoy a more relaxed transition.

Stress-Reducing Benefits:

Time-Saving: You won’t have to spend countless hours packing or coordinating logistics.

Peace of Mind: Knowing that professionals are handling your belongings provides peace of mind.

Customized Solutions: A Plus Moving LLC offers tailored solutions based on your specific needs, further alleviating stress.

Local Expertise

A Plus Moving LLC specializes in local moves within Connecticut. This local expertise means they are familiar with the area’s neighborhoods, traffic patterns, and regulations. This knowledge helps them plan the best routes and schedules for your move.

Benefits of Local Knowledge:

Efficient Routing: They can navigate local traffic effectively to minimize delays.

Understanding Local Regulations: They know about any permits or regulations specific to New Haven or other areas in Connecticut that may affect your move.

Community Connections: Being a local company means they have established relationships with other local businesses and services that can be beneficial during your move.

Customer Satisfaction

Customer satisfaction is at the core of A Plus Moving LLC's mission. They pride themselves on providing top-notch service, which is reflected in their numerous positive reviews from satisfied clients. Their commitment to excellence ensures that every customer receives personalized attention throughout their moving experience.

Highlights of Customer Service:

Responsive Communication: Their team is always available to answer questions or address concerns before, during, and after the move.

Professionalism: Movers arrive on time and conduct themselves with professionalism and courtesy.

Careful Handling: They treat your belongings as if they were their own, ensuring everything is handled with care.

Affordability

While full-service moving may seem costly at first glance, A Plus Moving LLC offers competitive pricing without compromising on quality. They provide transparent quotes with no hidden fees, allowing you to budget effectively for your move.

Cost Considerations:

Value for Money: The convenience and peace of mind provided by full-service movers often outweighs the cost.

Flexible Options: They offer various packages to fit different budgets while still delivering high-quality service.

Conclusion

Choosing A Plus Moving LLC as your full-service local movers in Connecticut means opting for a seamless moving experience. With their comprehensive services, extensive experience, local expertise, commitment to customer satisfaction, and affordability, they are well-equipped to handle all aspects of your move.If you're planning a relocation in New Haven or anywhere else in Connecticut, consider reaching out to A Plus Moving LLC for a stress-free experience.

For inquiries or to schedule your move today, contact us at 203-493-7799. Let A Plus Moving LLC provide you with the exceptional service you deserve!

#moving services #local movers #Moving Companies in Connecticut #connecticut #new haven movers

0 notes

anachronistic-falsehood · 3 months ago

Text

nhw greats powersets and trigger events <3 finally making this post bc i keep talking about them and in my head im like yeah everyone knows about min double trigger event everyone knows alphonz dissociative breaker state this is common knowledge wdym!!! and then i remember i have not discussed it At Length in a full post i have only discussed it with ros and mac. throws them at you like a softball

Strider (hero name Bracer)

lived in foster homes for most of his life and aged out of the system. ended up homeless on the streets for a good few years and lived under near constant stress. he triggered when he got followed around the city by a gang of asshole rich kids and got beat the fuck up!! badly!!! he didn’t originally want to be a hero, but virion’s dad found him and asked him to help protect the city with him and flora

mover 2: uses short bursts of super speed/strength to travel short distances, can be used for climbing, jumping, running, etc. bursts of enhanced speed/strength last for a few seconds at most, and needs a few seconds of rest in between each burst

thinker 5: has an innate sense of most enemies' physical vulnerabilities just by looking at them and can deduce the best way to take them down in seconds

striker 3: enhanced reflexes. deflects attacks faster than any human should be able to. uses bursts of speed/strength to deliver harsh hits to weak points. often uses knives, brass knuckles, and other short range weapons to add more punch behind his blows

stranger 5: similar to pd william's “hide in plain sight” ability (or imp from worm's powers). may be seen but not noticed. blends in perfectly with a crowd. no one questions his presence and doesn't realize he's not supposed to be somewhere unless they REALLY think about it. he’s very hard to focus on, especially if the people he's around are focused on other things. he can't always control this power and may occasionally go unnoticed and ignored in his own group until he purposely makes his presence known. could literally stand in front of a villain's face and they would just talk over him unless they stopped to Really Think About It

Grayson (hero name Gauntlet)

second gen cape!! mother was a cauldron cape tinker who specialized in medieval architecture and father was a case 53 cauldron cape hero in new haven. his parents were separated and he often stayed with his mother, who was typically too busy to pay much attention to him. this resulted in him playing around the towers of their castle when he was ten, falling out the window of an unfinished tower, and breaking his ankle. he stayed on the ground alone and screamed for his mother until his voice was hoarse and triggered half an hour after the initial fall. upon triggering, some of his father's physical traits manifested, and he gained small horns, fangs, claws, and a tail

tinker 4: specializes in medieval armor and weapons, can incorporate technology and modern materials into creations for greater protection and damage. makes armor and weapons for alphonz, gus, and strider (and himself ofc). no other powers aside from that but is still quick, light on his feet, and very capable in battle. not to be underestimated!!!

Ram (hero name Bullseye)

he lived in houston texas as a teenager/young adult. he was Really Fucking Stupid in college and drunkenly played russian roulette with a group of close friends. the bullet changed places many times throughout the game as the gun changed hands, and by the time it got to the last of their friends, they thought the bullet was in another chamber and that he'd be safe. ram's friend ended up accidentally shooting himself, and ram triggered immediately!!! solstice and gauntlet traveled to texas at solstice's recommendation and ended up recruiting him

thinker 5: enhanced visual perception. can't help but pay attention to dozens of small details up close, so small things moving and people fidgeting are incredibly distracting and can be very overwhelming. perception is much better used from distances, where he can perceive small details in order to gain information or pick targets. near perfect accuracy when shooting targets from distances up to 30 meters (~100 ft)

tinker 3: proficient with guns. not good at inventing new kinds of guns or making them from scratch, but he can repair and upgrade any kind of existing firearm. immediately proficient in handling/shooting any new firearm he's given

Min (hero name Icewalker)

she lived in a nice city on the east coast called ranz <3 she'd been studying physics and math in college and was walking back to her dorm with her Good Normal Friend peter sqloint when it started to rain, and then the attack happened and everything went to shit!! she triggered when leviathan directly attacked her college and she saw the bodies of her dead classmates, gaining her hydrokinesis powers. tide found her and directed her to a shelter, but the shelter was attacked and destroyed as well, collapsing around her and trapping her legs under the rubble, and she immediately triggered a second time and gained her changer abilities. the greats freed her from the rubble and got her somewhere safe and she decided to move to fauna with them

shaker/blaster 7- hydrokinesis. controls water in a similar way to tide, but can also change the state of the water she controls by freezing or evaporating it at will, allowing for long distance attacks with ice. limited to a radius of 50m (~160ft)

changer 6: can change parts of her body into water, ice, or vapour, but never the vital parts like anything in the head or torso. often uses abilities to summon ice spikes all over her body for protection, change limbs to ice blades to fight, or partially turn into vapour or water to avoid getting hit. often extends her legs into tall spikes of ice and walks around towering over buildings like some horrifying harbinger of icy death <3

Chungus (hero name Barbarian)

okay fuck you his name is gus and chungus is a mean nickname from school. he only lived with his mother and was held back multiple times in school. he was bullied horribly for this!!! he did a lot of sports but being the best wrestler on the team did not save his ass from teenage cruelty. his trigger event happened after gym class one day, when he waited to be alone in the locker room to take a shower, but a group of other students came back in as soon as he was undressed and beat the shit out of him. badly!!! he triggered in the middle of it, and when they decided they were done and left him there, he went home and skipped the rest of the school day. solstice eventually found him and recruited him

Brute/Changer 4-8: similar to lung from worm, in that he gets stronger the longer a fight goes on. goes from being able to lift up a truck to being able to potentially lift an entire building. his body gets bigger than it already is, muscles get stronger, and his skin gets tougher and harder. it doesn't become completely invulnerable, but simple weapons like knives won't break skin. injuries heal at a much faster rate, healing almost less than a second after they're made, and could even reattach dismembered limbs if he's quick enough. killing him late in a fight would likely take decapitation, bisection, or some other form of dismemberment that severs his vital organs from each other, and even then he will be conscious for much longer than a normal person would be before dying

Alphonz (hero name Justice)

he lived in a midwestern city and was a Good Little Catholic Boy <3 then the simurgh attacked on a random sunday while he was in church and he lost his entire family, and he triggered!! he went. a little off the rails, believing his powers came from god, and he threw himself into religion and devoted himself to getting stronger with the intent to rid the world of fear and destruction, with his end goal being to one day fight the simurgh and kill her himself. some of the greats were there for the simurgh attack, and they found him in the remains of his church dissociated as hell and in his breaker state, and stuck with him through the entire quarantine period. while he hasn't been talked down from wanting to kill the simurgh, he has been convinced to take his training slow and focus on bettering the world on a smaller scale in fauna (at least for now)

breaker 8/blaster 5: his body turns into light in his breaker form. the air around him within a 5m (~16ft) radius heats up, and light around him bends and gets sucked towards him like he’s at the centre of a black hole. shapes of light may begin to form around him, throwing off the perception of those looking at him. if he's in his breaker state long enough, he may form wings of light. can touch things in his breaker state, but his touch burns. can also turn into completely intangible beams of light, and can fire superheated rays of light from his hands. becomes emotionally volatile in breaker state, which will lead to him either being very quick to anger and impulsive, or being unresponsive and dissociated. he may involuntarily enter his breaker state if he's afraid, upset, or otherwise distressed. finds it very hard to leave his breaker state!!

#new haven wards #jrwi pd #WOE NHW GREATS LORE BE UPON YE!!!!!#FINALLY RELEASING THIS INTO THE WILD. JESUS

6 notes · View notes