#Organizational furniture

[lukmebel]

⭐ Feel like a star with our dressing table.⭐

Gold and shine is your favourite combination? If so, our Sienna Gold dressing table will be perfect for you!

The extremely sleek Sienna dressing table is a pretty and aesthetically pleasing option for lovers of elegant finishes.

It will work well in any space where luxury plays an important role.

[interiorergonomics]

Comparing Modern and Traditional Office Furniture: Key Differences

The design principles behind modern and traditional office furniture reveal distinct philosophies and functionalities. Traditional office furniture is often rooted in a classic and timeless aesthetic which is characterized by; rich wood finishes detailed craftsmanship a robust and solid construction. Typical pieces include dark wood desks, leather-upholstered chairs, and cabinets with ornate…

[jedi-bird]

Made it to ikea today anc got some of the stuff I needed (everything was in stock but they don't carry some of the size frames I need). As usually happens, I wound up with an impulse buy of a cute little plush astronaut kitty, because space and cats and plushies. This week I'm going to try and focus on the living room and the garage now that the weather is cooling down, with the goal of ordering the rest of the shelves by the end of next month (preferably before but we'll see how it goes).

[arctic-hands]

Sigh. I didn't need to see an ad for this on my fb

[Image Description: an Amazon listing for Savor The Vault All-In-One Desk Organizer Blue Mobile WFH Homeschool Planner Organizer, Portable Homework Center & Folder System-Filing Holds Important School Work, Documents and Keepsakes". It shows a blue box that opens up to have a storage pocket on the left side and two drawers and another smaller storage space underneath those. End I.D.]

On top of hoarding art supplies I hoard organizational things to hold said art supplies. I have so many organizational things I barely have room on my craft table for the art to be done. And yet I have a mighty need. 😔 At least the fact that it's fifty-four dollars is a temperance measure

[lemeute]

please reblog for the sample size as I am deciding what my priority should be. thank u

[pancakeke]

also im so glad I have a job that affords me disposable income cause I've been slowly getting rid of shit that doesn't serve me or spark joy or whatever and replacing that stuff with things that don't constantly introduce frustration into my life. I've never really been able to do this before.

it was mostly organizational stuff and smaller furniture items because I'm a fucking disaster, but also I got a sound bar. idk how to describe it but for a couple weeks or months now I've felt like I was going insane because I couldn't understand most of what was being said on our tv. I had been feeling a background radiation of stress when the tv was on but i didn't totally notice until recently when i started turning the TV up to hear it better, but that only made it louder not clearer, which made me feel MORE stressed when trying to watch anything.

sound bar worked amazingly to resolve this btw. i can actually understand dialog now. but just a warning for anyone else who might think of trying this, my tv has blinds behind it. I'm pretty sure the regular speakers built into a point backwards with the intent for sound to bounce off a wall behind them to direct it to viewers. my blinds and the window frames were probably fucking this system up pretty bad.

alternatively, out tv was cheap so maybe its speakers were crapping out lol

[avaantares]

Guardian Bonus Bingo: Answer

Okay, I'm going to have to cheat a little on this. I do have an absolutely IDEAL scene for the @guardianbingo "Answer" fill, one that contains the exchange

"Does that answer your question, [name redacted]?"

"If I say no, will you repeat the answer?"

...but I realized I can't post it as a fill because it's the penultimate scene in the (very long) story I'm (hopefully) about to start posting, and as such it would be a spoiler. And since there are a few dozen chapters ahead of it -- most of which I still need to finish editing, and definitely won't have ready before the end of the amnesty period -- I can't just post the rest of the story early to fill the prompt. >.<

So since that can't go live just yet, and I doubt that two lines of dialogue out of context constitutes a bingo fill, I'm going to tackle a question that probably has no definitive answer (see what I did there?). It's one that has mystified me every time I've rewatched this series, and which (conveniently) I was prompted to ask again while pulling gifs from episode 3 for my last bingo fill. The question is:

"Why Do We Even HAVE That Library?"

(If you read that in Izma's voice, you get it.)

The SID has a library. We see it several times throughout the series. But we aren't sure why it has a library, because Zhu Hong straight up states that it's not functional:

...And looking at the books, it's clear that the SID library really is the collection of all time. What's the theme? By what criteria are books selected for inclusion? How are the books catalogued? Why are half of them upside-down on the shelves? Why are there a dozen duplicate copies of several titles? WHO KNOWS?

(Well, probably Sang Zan, eventually. But he's not here yet.)

To probe this mystery, I decided to zoom in and see what I could make of the books. And lo and behold, some of the books have legible titles!

Bottom shelf, left to right:

BLOOD RITE Dominique (not sure if that's an author or a subtitle)

CLASSICAL NOVEL (very original title, that)

Arletta (the Comic Sans nightmare that appears all over the place in various cover colors)

(indecipherable; I think it's both in Chinese and upside-down on the shelf, but it's out of focus)

the statue of liberty (style preserved)

LUXURY HOTELS

Read It Yourself With (last word cut off)

CENTURY

BLOODY HARVEST: The Killing of Falun Gong for Their Organs (I am actually surprised by this one; I had assumed this book was banned by the CCP, but there are multiple copies here)

CENTURY (upside-down this time!)

THE CATCHER IN THE (presumably RYE)

Next shelf:

The People's Lawyer

Unicist Organizational Cybernetics

JUSTICE OF THE PEACE (volume numbers obscured by Zhu Hong's hand; it's the book she's taking down)

Something with an approximation of the American flag and a bunch of languages on the spine

untitled

untitled

BLOOD RITE Dominique (same book as lower shelf)

OUYE Sofa + Furniture (this one's repeated all over the shelves, along with CENTURY and Arletta)

Basics of Modern Economic Management (translated title)

Corporate Finance (translated title)

the 10Ks of Personal Branding

GLOWIENKA

GLOWIENKA (but upside-down)

In addition to many duplicates of these books on other shelves, other titles visible on the wide angle pans include:

Anne of Green Gables (good to know this classic also exists on Haixing)

The American Journal of Medicine (we already suspected America existed on Haixing, given the flag stool in ZYL's apartment)

Imperial Crown

Charles Darwin: The Descent of Man (parallel evolution on Haixing? *rimshot*)

The Hotel Book

None of these titles seem particularly relevant to the SID's function -- except, perhaps, for the Justice of the Peace regulations, which Zhu Hong was actually looking for -- which makes me think there must either be a secret code of some kind, or the SID once raided an IKEA OUYE and took all their prop display books into evidence, and then someone at the SID later saw all the books and assumed it was a reference library.

A lot of the titles in this scene aren't really clear, but when I have time to pull up later episodes that have scenes dealing with the library specifically (Zhao Xinci visiting, et al.), it might be fun to grab some frames, enhance with the magic of Photoshop, and put them on my 4K display to see if I can find other interesting titles.

Also, I don't have time to go looking just now, but I'd bet the books in the library are duplicates of the ones in Shen Wei's apartment, which I seem to remember being pretty random. They recycled so much of the set dressing, I can't imagine there would be more than one collection of weird shelf-fill.

Zhao Yunlan's tastes, on the other hand, are a bit narrower. The most prominently-displayed book in his apartment is just titled Furniture.

[kittyit]

Is there an internet community I can post a picture of our pantry to and people will tell me how to find organizational structures (like pieces of furniture) that will fit in there and help. Our house was built randomly by some random fucking man. It is very random in the pantry. That's probably the most random place in the house and I just am out of ideas. I just want someone to solve this for me.

[aceofthyme]

List of Things in the Back to the Future Musical That Have Made Me Cry (for one reason or another)

First off: if the title alone doesn’t imply it, this post will contain some spoilers for the minutiae of the Back to the Future musical! If that doesn’t bother you, cruise right on ahead, but if it does then you’d best hit the brakes here!

As of writing this, I have been lucky enough to see the BTTF musical three times (!!)—once on Broadway and twice on the North American tour. Each show has been different, with little quirks and interactions changing night to night, which makes it even more enjoyable to rewatch. There’s so much heart to this show, and so many moments that add to each character. Some things have moved me to tears, and others have made me laugh so hard I’ve actually cried. Below is a collection of moments that have had me tearing up, in no particular order or organizational format:

(Musical spoilers below the cut!!)

Doc talking about how people took advantage of him and actually getting choked up

Doc holding up the model car at the end of For the Dreamers, like it’s flying amongst the stars

Marty handing Doc the ‘thank you note’, and Doc being incredibly touched and going on for several moments about how kind of Marty it was to write him a thank you note (to the point of sounding teary) before pausing and his expression dropping when he realizes it’s actually future information

Doc’s side table getting destroyed (unintentionally) at the tail end of Future Boy, and Doc only noticing it about thirty seconds later and staring at it before howling “THAT’S AN ANTIQUE! THAT WAS MY GRANDMOTHER’S!”

and then “I know times are hard on dancers, but there’s no need to steal furniture!”

in the same show, following the table’s untimely demise, Doc waking up (after 21st Century) and being startled by Marty’s presence and responding with “oh, hey, Marty, I—I was confused ‘cause there was a table there” to roaring audience laughter (plus Marty’s follow up of “you can buy a new one when I leave”)

Doc hugging Marty in the square after Marty returns to 1985, and Marty beginning to cry, and Doc comforting him and gently patting his back and holding onto him for a few moments longer than usual

Doc and Marty tapping their microphones together during Back in Time like a microphone fist bump

Doc and the flyswatter. Truly the only valid reaction to watching your (new) friend be hit on by his mother, retching and slapping a flyswatter back and forth and then managing a “there’s a—a bug, I’ll get it—“ while you continue to smack the flyswatter back and forth, and eventually going “got it” because ya gotta at least pretend there’s continuity and you can catch a bug

The fire extinguisher flavors!

“Doc!” “Aah!” “Whoa, whoa—are you all right?” “What?” “Are you all right?” “Left?” “What??”

George waving goodbye to the bird

Doc waking up startled and immediately calling for his mother 😭

“Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky, why are we talking about astronomy??”

“Profanity not necessary.” “The hell it isn’t!”

Doc on the clock tower genuinely panicking and hyperventilating but giving it his all (look I don’t blame him for wailing I would not want to be up on a collapsing edge especially with a fear of heights!)

“Safety first, Marty, it’s so important, I always say that!” “When do you say that?” “I say it every time!” “Do you?” “Remember the time you burned your eyebrows off…”

“We’ll put the red one here like Rudolph—aw, he’s so cute!!”

The entire fire extinguisher bit. Every time. The perfect cut into yelling and the cut back into the same exact word. Gold.

Doc revealing the model, Marty complimenting it, and Doc putting a hand to his chest and then leaning his head against Marty’s, clearly incredibly touched

“you’ll be fine, you’ve had coke” *incredibly loud sniff*

Doc struggling with the projector screen, turning (with one arm still up) to see Lorraine, extending a leg and bowing with an “enchanté”

Doc’s German accent!! Truly a moment

Every *single* time there’s a “you mean the future” type joke, the note of suspense from the brass section and the double fourth wall break look by Marty and Doc out at the audience (especially when they look back at each other and then look out again, often multiple times)

“Brown.” “Strickland.” “It’s…been a long time.” “Not long enough. BYE!” *featuring Doc well and truly sprinting away*

[machihunnicutt]

HELLO!!! 14 or 21, if either of those speak to you???

HELLO!!! Loved both of these...tried to incorporate both:

14. being calmed by the familiar feeling of the other's body molding into theirs & 21. cuddles without doing anything else even though they have a bunch of things to do

“Are you hiding out in here?” BJ said. 

Hawkeye was sprawled, arms and legs out like a starfish, on their bed. He was wearing a pair of borrowed (stolen) running shorts, a sweaty t-shirt, and his tennis shoes, which were hanging off of the mattress. 

He poked his head up to look at BJ, standing in the doorway. 

“I don’t know where she gets all that energy from,” Hawkeye said: hushed, as if Erin could hear downstairs. 

She had the radio on, full blast, and just before BJ wandered off in search of Hawk, she’d been reorganizing the piles of toys she was keeping and the toys she was labeling with a rainbow assortment of price stickers, for the garage sale.

“She’s 13,” BJ said. 

“She accused me of being a hoarder,” Hawkeye said. 

“She’s going through a minimalist phase. It’ll pass,” BJ said.

Peg had enlisted Erin’s help in her spring cleaning endeavors, which had culminated in Erin’s first Mill Valley garage sale. Erin was always eager to assist, particularly with projects that allowed her to organize things or order people around. She liked taking money and making change. She liked selling fresh squeezed, super sour, best in town (her words) lemonade and making bargains and trades with her old baby dolls and jump ropes and clothes she’d outgrown. 

When they’d picked her up at the airport, for her summer visit, she’d recounted her escapades as a young entrepreneur and organizational savant with such animation, that BJ had agreed to let her host another sale at their house in Maine. He hadn’t thought about how much stuff they had and how many boxes and trash bags and superfluous pieces of furniture Erin would want to drag out onto the lawn and pepper with price tags.

Hawk wiggled to the right and patted the space beside him.

“You don’t think I’m a hoarder, do you?” Hawkeye said, as BJ stretched out beside him.

Hawkeye rolled on his side and pressed up against him, slinging one arm over BJ’s chest. He was warm, and still a little breathless. They fit together the way they always did: Hawkeye’s stomach flush with BJ’s ribs, his ankle hooked around BJ’s, his chin tucked over BJ’s shoulder, his eyes closed, and his nose pressed to the side of BJ’s neck. 

“I think you—have an exceptional eye for knick knacks,” BJ said.

“Useless knick knacks, that I hoard,” Hawkeye said.

“Don’t blame yourself. Knick knacks aren’t known for their utility,” BJ said.

Hawkeye laughed. This, too, was familiar: the buzzing, exultant, vibration of the sound. BJ laughed too, at his own joke. It was a chain reaction. It always was, when they were lying like this.

“Those salt and pepper shakers shaped like teddy bears are useful, and charming,” Hawkeye said.

They’d found them antiquing. Hawk said they reminded him of Radar. He’d carried them around the shop for half an hour, while they’d browsed. 

“Don’t tell me she wants to get rid of those,” BJ said.

Hawkeye pressed closer and kissed the underside of BJ’s jaw.

“She’s still working on the living room. I steered her away from the kitchen while you were going through all the crap in the garage,” he said.

“Oh, so the kitchen’s got all the treasures and the garage is full of my crap?” BJ said.

“Our crap,” Hawkeye said.

“Our crap,” BJ said, grinning. 

He could hear Erin downstairs, singing along to a Buddy Holly song at the top of her lungs. She’d wear herself out soon, he knew, and ask if they could go out for ice cream.

“I can talk to her, get her to tone it down a little. She gets very passionate about her projects,” BJ said.

“I love that about her. She gets that from you,” Hawkeye muttered: drowsy, muffled against BJ’s collarbone.

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t let her talk you into parting with things you don’t want to part with. She’s a reasonable kid,” BJ said.

A long pause. 

“Hawk? You awake?”

Hawkeye hummed. BJ looked down at the top of his head. He studied the sweat-damp tangle of his dark hair, streaked with silver. 

“A little decluttering is probably a good thing. I don’t have to hang onto everything for dear life anymore,” Hawkeye said. He relaxed his grip around BJ’s middle.

“That’s true. We’re sticking together, you and I. So’s our stuff,” BJ said.

“Our stuff,” Hawkeye said. He tipped his head back and looked up at BJ. “I like that it’s our stuff,” he said, voice soft.

There had been a time when there were very few objects by which BJ could remember Hawkeye. There had been a time when they were across the country from each other, and everything that belonged to the both of them, together, was stuffed in BJ’s old army trunk, under his bed, collecting dust. There had been a time when Hawk had very little of him: a shoebox full of letters, a couple fading photos, mismatched socks that had never been traded back. 

“So do I,” BJ said.

“Maybe we can introduce Erin to the joys of patronizing other people’s garage sales,” Hawkeye said.

“Peg will have my head if we send her home with an extra bag of nonsense,” BJ said.

“She can keep it here,” Hawkeye said.

“What about decluttering?” BJ said.

Hawkeye exhaled, with extra drama. “Everyone’s a critic,” he said.

“We should get up. We’ve got things to do,” BJ said.

Hawkeye kissed him, long and lazy.

“I’m plenty busy,” he said.

The volume of the music downstairs lowered, fractionally.

“Dad?” Erin called.

“Yeah, bug?” BJ said.

“I’m out of orange stickers,” she said.

“She’s out of orange stickers, Beej,” Hawkeye repeated, gravely.

“Maybe it’s time for an ice cream break,” BJ said.

Hawkeye sat up. His hair was mussed and his face was pink. He stretched, languidly, and yawned. BJ missed the sensation of Hawk’s skin against his.

He pressed his palm to BJ’s knee and squeezed. Sometimes BJ thought Hawk could read his mind. Maybe the feeling went both ways.

“Inspired idea,” Hawk said.

[95-6qrsk2rx9uq42069nnnnnjthewolf]

Afflicting tim with Gender and In Your Twenties because, well. (+ jaytim) (idea 1)

Tim is in her early twenties and fresh out of an identity crisis that she has a feeling she’s been putting off for almost a decade at this point. It’s a good feeling, but its also new and solely hers. She doesn’t feel like sharing. She wants to get acquainted with herself. (A few people know. Tam’s actually the first person she told. She helped pick out a cocktail dress and they went out to a fancy bar and had a few drinks and just hung out. Tam held her hand and didn’t say anything when Tim cried on the taxi ride home. Kon, Bart, and Cassie know. Their hugs are as tight and reassuring as ever.) 

Therese Dho has a modest, comfortable apartment the bats don’t know about, full of posters and comfortable furniture, strewn with piles of clothes and disassembled tech. It feels homey, like she can breathe, in a way that the nest didn’t and it's jarring to realize how contained she’d been keeping herself even in her own space. She’s about two months into her new job as a forensics technician at the GCPD, and thanks to her terminally untied converse and habit of tripping into cops wandering into the forensics labs, evidence tampering is on the decline. She’s sarcastic and blunt the way she couldn’t be at WE, letting her results speak for themselves rather than waste energy soothing egos that don’t deserve it. It’s not like she’s the only colorful character there, and she is happily absorbed into the department (not so)lovingly referred to as the lab rats, despite her relentless attempts to afflict her own organizational methods on the other techs. (It’s almost like you want samples to wander off she says, looking directly at the tech she knows is on Two-face’s payroll. He is sweating. Therese’s supervisor, who adores her new grumpy tech and does not want her new favorite to get shot, is also sweating.) 

The day she’s called into the commissioner’s office, she contemplates exiting out the window and making for the roofs right there in broad daylight. Closing the door to his office feels like the sinking pit in her stomach when a mission’s gone south and she’s failed to consider a crucial contingency. Between the lab coat, reading glasses and her hair being grown out long enough for the loose fraying braid its in, Therese is telling herself there’s no way Gordon recognizes her, but he’s also giving her a long hard look she doesn’t know how to interpret. And then he’s telling her that her supervisor is singing her praises and he has high hopes for her. And to maybe stop being quite so brazen about calling out her coworkers and just let Gordon know instead. There may or may not be a comforting hand on her shoulder, she’s slightly too lightheaded to tell. By the end of the meeting she still can’t tell if he knows who she is or not, but he’s not demanding she pack up her desk and get out so Therese will take it.  On her way back to the lab, the detective who occasionally brings her coffee and lets her ramble about the fallibility of bloodstain pattern analysis winks at her as she passes, and Therese feels herself blush. He’s tall and broad, more vanity muscles than somebody really putting their body to use all day, but not dirty according to what digging she’s done, and if he’s just flirting with her in the hopes of expediting his cases, at least he’s smooth about it. Her being attracted to men didn’t blindside her quite as badly as the whole gender thing did; less something she buried deep deep down and more so something she’d simply let herself glance past, though she would also like to be done Realizing things about herself. Not that she’d ever start anything with him anyways, for multiple reasons.

She’s making a life she thinks she can live with, though. The lab goes out for drinks and trivia night. She’s making time for friends and hobbies. Helping teach coding and computer literacy at her local library branch. Red Robin is still mostly a solo act; the person she’s shared patrols with most frequently in the past year, of all people, has been Red Hood. So long as she responds to requests for assistance, either in the field or behind the scenes (mostly remote), the bats seem content to leave her be. She doesn’t poke too hard at the question of whether her Major Life Changes have been noted or if, so long as she’s still providing support without a fuss, anybody has even noticed. She’s clear headed enough these days to know it's a two-way street and she’d been pulling back for years. She’ll probably always be involved with vigilantism in some way, but the network she’d put so much time into reinforcing around Batman and Gotham was always meant to keep on growing without her. She’s not hiding, literally underneath their noses every time one of them responds to the bat signal. If anyone really wanted to find her, they could. She’ll help whenever they ask for it, but the rest is for her now. She’s earned that.

And then one day on a coffee excursion she watches Jason Todd get hauled into the station, cursing up a storm, cuffed and incandescently angry between two nervous cops. She hears the grating voice of one of the more unpleasant cops in the station gloating that they caught this creep dealing to kids and he should be grateful that its the cops that got him and not the red hood, didn’t you hear that psycho kills people over shit like this? Therese deserves a medal for not bursting out laughing right then and there, though it gets less funny when Jason snarls that they know damn well they’d been the ones harassing the kids, and planted the bags on Jason when he got in between and told them to fuck off. She’s gotten behind the cop and plucked a little baggie from his back pocket very clearly not labeled as evidence by the time they’ve tried to slam Jason chest-down onto a desk. The whole bullpen is watching when Therese asks if this was the cop’s personal stash or that he’d decided to keep this guy’s product for himself. Jason is also watching, and possibly falling in love, when he sees this girl not even flinch as the cop tries to lunge at her before getting hauled back himself. It’s a big flurry then but he finds himself loitering awkwardly until he can talk to her, and asks if he can buy her a coffee as a thank you. He notices the styrofoam cup in her hand after the sentence is out and manfully doesn’t wince.

Therese is too focused on the high pitched ringing in her ear to figure out if Jason has already clocked her and is using coffee as an excuse to grill her on what the fuck she’s doing. She rolls her eyes and tells Jason he should check up on those kids. Excuses herself since her labs are almost done and she needs to dodge her supervisor because she refuses to fill out another incident report, leaving jason mildly heartbroken at the front desk and the secretary giving him a sympathetic look, saying ‘you know how those science types can be. Therese may not have even realized you were asking her out.’ And, well, maybe he can try one more time tomorrow. At least check in and make sure she’s not facing any retaliation from other cops.

So he shows up the next day at what he assumes is a reasonable time for a lunch break with a coffee and a few pastries in hand, receiving a thumbs up from the same secretary for his troubles. Except when Therese comes out to see why she was called to the front desk there’s such a clear flash of panic on her face at seeing him that Jason is already apologizing and turning for the door. He makes it out and is shortly followed by the sound of the door opening and closing again. Therese is there, wearing a very familiar steely expression, stomping past him with the curt order to follow her in a lower register that he’s heard before. She guides him to an alley and he’s pretty sure he knows where this is going but also what if he is actually about to get shanked?

“Jason” is the stern response to his hesitation, and oh yes, jason knows that tone.

“Look,” he says, joining her in the shade of the building, “if you’ve got an undercover thing going on in there, I swear I didn’t know. That trip to the station yesterday really wasn’t intentional.”

“I’ll read you in if you swear to not tell the others until I give the okay,” is the response and her expression is giving Jason absolutely nothing. He actually can’t remember the last time Tim was this blank with him and its unsettling. 

“Come on, baby bird, you're the only one of 'em I even talk to. How many times have you kept my shit off their radar? Of course I won’t go blabbing” Their rapport had only been getting better with each collaboration over the last couple years, built off of Red Robin’s stone cold professionalism that Hood could trust to see them through city wide crises in a way that he couldn’t working closely with Bruce or Dick. From there they’d gained a real respect for each other, Tim always willing to hear him out if Jason also promised to listen in turn. They’ve got similar mean streaks and senses of humor, with open invitations to any respective safe houses and first aid kits. Red Robin had given Jason a tenable source of backup in Gotham, in a way he hasn’t felt like he’s had since coming back. Jason had just been thinking last week that he hadn’t heard from Red in awhile, and that they were due for a check in. Tim shouldn’t have to ask Jason whether whatever this is will stay between them; it should be a given. He doesn’t hold onto those feelings of offense or fear for long as Therese starts explaining, though. This isn’t a case, it's her life. Of course this happens on her terms. Of course he’ll follow her lead and he says as such. 

“I do have one question, though, and if now isn’t the time you got full permission to dump this coffee on my head.” (I would not need permission but thank you, she mutters. Jason gamely plows on) “I didn’t recognize you yesterday. I just saw this little spitfire stand up to a cop almost twice her size on his turf to keep me out of trouble and not flinch. I came by today to ask if she wanted to go out for a coffee,” Jason is briefly reminded of the secretary’s previous comment as Therese stares at him. “I’m asking you out on a date, T.” And there’s the blush he’s managed to pull out of her once in a while, from previous light flirtations that were only mostly jokes she’d never seemed to reciprocate. But she is now, agreeing shyly to try it out. 

And it just, settles. Vigilantism is in their blood at this point, and they’re each other's backup. But they help each other be people too. There’s routine, bringing Therese her lunch at work, farmer’s markets and trivia nights and local theater productions. Kids at the skatepark who hassle Therese to teach them tricks. Jason comes home gushing about how well the kids he tutors are improving. They support each other through the bad days. An up and coming drug dealer gets it into his head that all the other entities in Gotham have someone on the payroll, a pet geek on the inside of the GCPD should be easy enough to bribe or intimidate. T kicks his enforcers’ faces in and while they’re trying to breathe through the blood pouring out their noses, Red Hood comes up behind them with a choice. Either they can deal with him, or he’ll drop them off at the police station, where they’ll spill everything their boss is up to. They can even say Hood did it and not a 5’6” nerd in a star trek hoodie. Once they’re among the other failed henches, they make sure everyone knows that this one is Hood’s insider and anybody who tries anything will not be living to regret it. 

They go home and Jason motherhens over Therese recovering from top surgery. T draws up new plans to reinforce Hood’s helmet. It’s all one and the same. They look out for each other.

[doomspiral]

If lietpru had a house together, what kinds of things would they decorate it with? What would be important enough to them to put on display?

Hm. I think between the both of them, it would be a lot of handcrafts and photos/paintings of lovedones, but not much of them together. By the time they live together itd be after Gil's "demoted" to repping Berlin, so it's Liet's house and Gil only lives there some of the time, but his mark is all over; some of the organizational layout, some of his carving on banisters and furniture.

[linecoveredinjellyfish]

ok posting a to-do list here in the hopes that i can public forum myself into actually doing the thing.

wash dishes from breakfast

fold and put away laundry

fold and put away other laundry

wash bedding

change sheets

put non-sheet bedding items (i.e. blanket, pillow cases) back on the bed

dust furniture

sweep/vacuum floors

fiddly organizational tasks (i.e. make sure everything is in the location it's supposed to be in)

clean boots (still muddy from the ren faire last week)

one (1) relatively small homework*

organize notes and bag for class tomorrow*

shower*

touch up nail polish

figure i have bragging rights if i get this stuff 3/4 (9/12) of the way done. i have brought shame upon my family if i do less than half. asterisks on the stuff that i literally need to do today no excuses.

edit: i now officially have bragging rights and still a few spoons left over! and it's not even 6 pm!

another edit: it was 12 tasks when i wrote that bit. technically it's 14 now. but whatever it still counts.

[santi-u]

[ bie thassapak hsu, demi-man, he/they ] Look who just landed! SANTI AMARIN-ZHAO, I sure hope you packed all you need. Perhaps you’re not worried as the CEO of X ACADEMY. The city has plenty of spots for a 29 year old SIGHIR like you. You’ll be known in the city soon enough as THE PEACEMAKER, being CHARISMATIC and INSTIGNANT. 

❯ tags — interview — bio — headcanons — wanted connections & plots

OOC Information

Fayn / PST (Vancouver, Seattle, Los Angeles) /  They/Them 

Muse: Santi Amarin-Zhao 

Tagging System: here

Interview: here

Muse’s Statistics

Full Name: Santi Amarin-Zhao | สันติ อมรินทร์ | 兆三緹

Nickname: Silk / Xiao Ti (小緹) / Titty (lmao)

Date of Birth: 28 May 2376

Gender: Demi-Man

Pronouns: He/They

Sexual Orientation: Queer

Romantic Orientation: …Ask him when he’s drunk. (Queer)

Current Age: 29

Modification: Sighir (Classified) Human :)

Affiliation: X Academy

Birthplace: New Jakarta

Current Neighbourhood: Sora

Occupation: CEO of X Academy, Philanthropist, Insider Threat, Dog Papa :)

Known Languages: English, Thai, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, Bahasa

Appearance

Faceclaim: Bie Thassapak Hsu

Height: 6'0"

Eye Colour: Dark brown, almost black

Hair Colour: Naturally black, tends to dye it dark, reddish brown 

Clothing Style: Has an extensive suit collection, surprisingly only a fraction of which are custom tailored. Wears more eccentric and femme-leaning blazer choices when feeling up to it. Tends to wear layers and long sleeves even during warm weather. Wears a hat to disguise himself in the Slums. Occasionally wears glasses.

Jewelry:  Watch he inherited from a mentor. Occasionally wears a bracelet and necklace with no real sentimental meaning, just only for the vibe. 

Tattoos: N/A

Marks/Scars: An innumerable amount of scars all over his body, even his face, as a result of testing done on him. They’ve all healed nearly perfectly thanks to his Sighir powers, and as a result, they’re nearly imperceptible / basically invisible unless you know what you’re looking for and are literally up in his business. He doesn't usually let anyone get that close, physically or emotionally.

Modifications: N/A

Scent/Fragrance: Tom Ford Ébène Fumé — overall woody and smoky; has notes of incense, palo santo, black pepper, violet leaf, leather, and labdanum

Personality

Positive Traits: Charismatic, compassionate, loyal

Neutral Traits: Guarded, resourceful, analytical

Negative Traits: Hyperindependent, manipulative, self-destructive

Peeves: His lunch getting double booked, expense reports, interviews, people who pet Khoi without asking Khoi if he’d like to be pet, people who don’t respect nature

Fears: A particular part of the city he now avoids going to at all costs; locked, windowless rooms; his parents; vulnerability

Skills: Partnership management, B2B commerce, research design, organizational management, public speaking, tying the perfect tie in one shot, being able to tell what kind of spices were used in a dish, inhuman-like terrifyingly high pain tolerance

Goals: Autonomy and control over his own fate

Favourites

Likes: His black golden retriever (Khoi), a tasteful accent pocket square, street food, boba, bugs (butterflies in particular), a certain Overseer :)

Dislikes: The smell of antiseptic, stainless steel furniture and decor, loss of control 

Hobbies: Cooking, going out to Bartori or the Marwar Market in disguise to eat street food

Habits: Sleep talking, overworking, checking the app on his phone to make sure Khoi is okay at home

One Cherished Item: The chrysalis of a butterfly he helped raise in secret from a caterpillar when he was a child

Biography

UNN's Class of 2405: 30 Under 30 Interview with Santi Amarin-Zhao, CEO of X Academy

Date: September 12, 2404 Time: 13:57 PM NJT Location: X HQ, Santi’s Office

The interview takes place in the sleek, ultra-modern headquarters of X Academy, a towering structure that dominates the skyline of New Jakarta. The office is a blend of glass and metal, with a panoramic view of the sprawling city below. Santi sits behind a minimalist desk, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, betraying the meticulous mind behind the polished exterior. The interviewer, an experienced journalist from the United News Network, is acutely aware that this is more than just a profile piece—it’s an opportunity to peel back the layers of one of Mars' most enigmatic young leaders.

Interviewer: "Santi Amarin-Zhao, thank you for joining us today. It's not every day that we get to sit down with one of the youngest CEOs in New Jakarta's history. Let's start from the beginning—being born and raised on Mars is still not an everyday occurrence, and especially not nearly three decades ago. How has your upbringing shaped the leader you are today?"

Santi offers a warm smile, the kind that has won him the admiration from many of the million citizens of New Jakarta, but behind that smile is a carefully crafted persona. He knows exactly how to play this role, the heir to a legacy of power and innovation.

Santi: "Thank you for having me. My upbringing was nothing short of a privilege, and I recognize that every day. My mother's side was instrumental in the initial colonization efforts, and my father's side were some of the original Braax mine owners. Their combined legacy is something I take very seriously. Growing up, I was always taught that with great power comes great responsibility—not just to my family, but to the people of New Jakarta."

As he speaks, Santi’s thoughts drift momentarily to his childhood, where lessons were taught not in classrooms, but in boardrooms. His mother, a brilliant scientist, would often take him to meetings where breakthroughs in Martian terraforming and mineral research were discussed, while his father, a shrewd businessman, exposed him to the intricacies of corporate strategy. From a young age, Santi learned that every action, every word, was a move in a larger game—a game he was expected to win.

Interviewer: "That's a powerful ethos to live by. Many would say that you were born into success, but you've clearly worked hard to maintain and build upon that legacy. What drives you to keep pushing forward, especially in such a high-stakes environment?"

As the interviewer asks this, Santi leans back slightly, as if contemplating the question. The truth is, the drive to push forward comes not from ambition alone, but from a deeper, almost primal need to assert control over a life that has always been orchestrated by others. But that’s not something he can admit out loud.

Santi: "You know, it's easy for people to assume that everything was handed to me on a silver platter, but the reality is far more complex. Yes, I had opportunities that others might not, but I was also held to incredibly high standards. From a young age, I was taught the importance of hard work, and that success is not just about what you achieve, but how you achieve it. I’ve always believed in leading by example, which is why I make it a point to be in the trenches with my team, whether it's working late nights on a project or navigating the complexities of our latest research initiatives."

He recalls the countless nights spent in the labs of X Academy, not because he needed to be there, but because he wanted to understand every aspect of the institution he would one day lead. He wasn’t just a figurehead—he was determined to know the ins and outs of every department, every project. The long hours weren’t just about work; they were about proving, perhaps to himself more than anyone else, that he was worthy of the legacy he was born into.

Interviewer: "It's clear that your work ethic is something you take pride in. Let's talk about X Academy. Under your leadership, it's become a beacon of hope for many in New Jakarta, especially with the rising tensions in the city. How do you balance the pressures of being a public figure with the responsibilities of running such a pivotal institution?"

Santi’s expression shifts subtly—a flicker of something deeper, darker. He knows that the public sees him as a beacon of hope, a leader who can unite the fractured city. But the truth is, the very tensions they hope he will resolve are often of his own making. He is both the architect of chaos and the one who brings order, a duality that he keeps hidden beneath layers of charm and calculated sincerity.

Santi: "Balancing those pressures is definitely a challenge, but it's one I embrace. X Academy was founded with the goal of advancing scientific research for the betterment of all Martian citizens, and that mission is something I take to heart. At the same time, I understand the power of public perception. People are looking for someone to believe in, especially now, and I’m grateful that they see me as that figure. However, it’s not just about what I can do as a leader, but what we can achieve together as a community. Creating opportunities for all, committing to public good—these are not just slogans, but guiding principles in everything I do."

He remembers the latest crisis he orchestrated in the Akumu Slums—a small piece of information, leaked at just the right time, setting off a chain of events that sent shockwaves through the city. It was a dangerous game, one that could easily spiral out of control, but Santi thrives on the thrill of it. The chaos serves a purpose; it keeps people looking to him for solutions, reinforcing his role as the indispensable leader.

Interviewer: "You've been dubbed 'The Peacemaker' by some, yet New Jakarta is far from peaceful, if we must be honest. How do you reconcile this title with the realities of the city?"

Santi knows this question is coming, and he’s prepared. The irony of the title isn’t lost on him—it’s part of the persona he’s carefully cultivated. He is the Peacemaker, but peace, as he defines it, is a tool, a means to an end. True peace would leave him with nothing to control, nothing to fix, and that’s a reality he’s not ready to face.

Santi: "The title 'Peacemaker' is both a compliment and a burden. Peace is not just the absence of conflict but the presence of justice and opportunity. It’s no secret that New Jakarta faces many challenges, from economic disparities to social unrest. But these challenges also present opportunities for growth and innovation. My job is to navigate these complexities and find solutions that benefit the city as a whole. Sometimes, that means making difficult decisions that aren't immediately popular, but I always have the long-term prosperity of New Jakarta in mind."

As he speaks, his mind wanders to the many nights he spent alone in his office, staring out over the city. From this vantage point, he could see everything—the glittering towers of the elite, the sprawling slums below. It was all part of a grand design, one he was orchestrating from behind the scenes. Every conflict, every resolution, was a step towards a future only he could envision.

Interviewer: "There's a lot of talk about the criminal underworld in New Jakarta, particularly in the Akumu Slums. How does X Academy fit into this picture, and what steps are you taking to ensure that your initiatives aren't just a band-aid on a larger issue?"

Santi’s smile doesn’t falter, but inside, he feels a spark of satisfaction. The criminal underworld is a complex web, one that he’s intimately familiar with. He’s not just aware of it—he’s a part of it, a shadowy figure pulling strings from the comfort of his high-rise office. But that’s a truth he’ll take to his grave.

Santi: "The situation in the Akumu Slums is one of the most pressing issues we face, and it’s something I’m deeply concerned about. X Academy's role is to provide education and resources that empower people to create better lives for themselves, but we can’t do it alone. That’s why I’ve been working closely with the Overseers and other city leaders to address the root causes of these problems. It’s not just about education; it’s about creating a sustainable ecosystem where everyone has the opportunity to thrive. As for the criminal circuit—let's just say, we're keeping a close eye on things and doing everything we can to ensure that X Academy’s work is part of the solution, not part of the problem."

He remembers the recent heist at one of X Academy’s facilities, a heist that the public believed was a tragedy. What they didn’t know was that Santi had orchestrated the entire event, leaking the location of the facility to a rival faction in the slums. It was all part of a larger plan, one that would ultimately strengthen his grip on the city. The stolen research was never meant to be used—it was a decoy, a test of loyalty and competence for those who would carry out his orders.

Interviewer: "Lastly, with everything you've accomplished so far, what does the future hold for you and X Academy? How do you plan to continue your family's legacy while also making your own mark?"

Santi pauses, considering his response carefully. The future is something he thinks about often, but not in the way most people do. For him, the future is a canvas, one that he can shape and mold to his liking. His family’s legacy is the foundation, but the empire he’s building will be his own.

Santi: "The future is bright, but it’s also uncertain—and that’s what makes it exciting. My family’s legacy is something I’m incredibly proud of, but I’m also focused on carving out my own path. For X Academy, that means continuing to push the boundaries of scientific research and making sure that our work has a real, tangible impact on the lives of the people of New Jakarta. Personally, I’m committed to staying grounded, to listening to the needs of the community, and to never losing sight of the values that brought me here. My goal is to make sure that when people think of X Academy, they don’t just think of a name—they think of a force for good that is changing the world for the better."

As he finishes, Santi glances out the window, his mind already racing with the next steps in his plan. The interviewer thanks him for his time, and Santi responds graciously, but his thoughts are elsewhere. The interview is just another move in the game, another step in a carefully plotted journey that only he knows the destination of.

Interviewer: "Thank you, Santi. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you, and we’re all looking forward to seeing what you accomplish next."

Santi: "The pleasure’s all mine. Thank you for the opportunity to share my story."

As the interviewer leaves, Santi sits back in his chair, allowing himself a rare moment of introspection. He’s come so far, but there’s still so much to do. The city of New Jakarta is a complex machine, and he’s the one turning the gears. The future he envisions is one of power, control, and legacy—his legacy, not just his family’s. And he won’t stop until every piece of the puzzle falls into place.

End of interview.

[zeldathusiast]

I'm thinking about the colors again (as per usual) and I'm imagining what each of their bedrooms would look like because I can and now I'm going to share my thoughts with you below the cut

• RED

- Plush heaven. There isn't a single sharp edge in the entire space, even the DOOR. his door closely resembles the entrance to a hobbit hole. It has a little heart-shaped hole carved into the top for added effect.

- has bookshelves, but they're filled with fairy tales and/or various sentimental trinkets he's received from his brothers over the years.

- sleeps with at least 3 blankets at all times.

- more stuffed animals than anyone could possibly ever need. They all have names, and he's attached to every single one, leaving the others to give up on making him have a reasonably sized collection. They can only try and limit how many new ones he brings in.

• GREEN

- average teenage boy's room. Clothes everywhere, overfilled drawers, utter lack of an organizational system.

- Door stays closed to keep Blue sane when he walks by it.

- Has one of those window fans that's always on. You know the ones.

- Has a small collection of plants on the windowsill that he takes care of

- Overall very normal, just messy

• BLUE

- Everything is perfectly folded and put away in its proper place no matter what. Bed? made. Floor? Vacuumed. Desk? organized and spotless. Writing utensils? Organized by size and type.

- Lacks books, but does have a stand for his hammer!

- Symmetrical, almost perfectly so. Blue calls it "balanced," everyone else calls him weird.

• VIO

- how did you get your hands on this much Gothic furniture??

- dramatic window curtains, a bed with posts and a curtain around it, a stained glass window??? the house did NOT come like that, when did this happen??

- Smells of expensive cologne.

- Walls of books. Textbooks, legends, stories... and vampire romance novels. Red curiously read a passage from the page Vio had recently bookmarked and still hasn't recovered. ("Vio, what's a prostate? and what does BL stand for?")

- Vio then promptly hid his collection.

[flipping-the-coin]

Hush; whats the best and worst parts about living in megatrons walls?

ℰ𝓁𝒾𝓉ℯ 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈𝓂ℯ𝒸𝒽: 𝒜ℊℯ𝓃𝓉 ℋ𝓊𝓈𝒽

◇─◇──◇─◇

I'm not quite sure how you managed to get this question to me, but I'm pinning the blame on Megatron. Whatever the case, it's not a problem. I've got nothing better to do stuck up here all the time.

Let me start off by saying that there is a LOT I could ramble about here. There are plenty of great things about being the unwanted roomie, and for that same reason, there are more than a few negatives when it comes to this whole arrangement. Some of the worst parts of this whole situation include everything listed below.

Its boring as slag here. Megatron never does anything of interest, and then on the odd chance that he does, it's always for Orion and so its sappy as frag.

The funds the guard gives me are just not enough to make do. Not to be ungrateful, but I have Carnage and my two other pets to take care of. I never told Paradox about them, but well, I didn't think it was important until I started going hungry.

It gets really cold up here in the walls sometimes, usually during the rainy season. Megatron has a space heater since the sound of the actual heater that was built into the hab makes Orion twitchy. But that space heater doesn't work through walls.

Megatron and Orion interface all. the. time. I don't think I need to say much more aside from stating that I tend to take a walk when they do their thing.

Orion organizes his stuff WRONG. Nothing is put into any sort of decipherable organizational order and it drives me mad. I've tried fixing it, but then Orion gets mad at Megatron and Megatron in turn gets mad at me. So I just have to deal with it.

The whole hab is decorated in a very debatable manner, but I can mostly deal with it... except when it comes to Orion's stupid RUG. The thing is neon yellow with black stripes to make it look like miner marks. It's hideous and clashes with every other piece of furniture, but Orion loves it. Megatron tolerates it.

I've had to stop attempted murders about... twelve times now? Four where from Ratchet putting too many pills in Orion's meds, not sure if it was an accident or not. Two were from Ratchet again, but in a more physical sense. The rest where just mechs with vendettas trying to screw Megatron over in subtle ways. They suck at it by the way. Poisoning energon stopped being effective two stellar cycles into the great war.

That's about the worst of it I think. As for the good things? Let me list those in similar fashion real quick.

Megatron gives me stuff to read. It's REALLY boring up here, so every now and then he throws me a bone so to speak and offers me reading material. Pretty sure its mostly illegal, but it's something to do.

Megatron also lets me proofread his writing and edit sometimes. With no one else in the hab more often than not, I suspect he enjoys knowing someone is listening when he spends groons reading poetry. It's a nice distractor once you get used to the romantic nature of his work.

Every now and then Megatron makes me something absolutely delicious to eat. It's usually after I do him a favor, but by the Thirteen, he makes amazing pastries. I am willing to jump through hoops to get some of his cooking.

I got annoyed with Orion's garden situation so I took up the role of gardener with a disguise in place. Now once every two deca-cycles I get to have tea with him and First Aid. It's a blast.

I got to blanket as a gift from Orion once while I was using my alias. I adore that blanket.

Yeah I think that's the most notable stuff. The cons kinda outway the pros, but it is what it is. I'm happy enough I suppose. I've got my pets and I've got my little spot in the walls.

It's fine.