#i should've expected as much from the New York Times

[lichenaday]

*gasps* could it be? Public attention for my special little guys? Teaching folks about the most interesting organisms in the world? Dare I hope?

Oof. Nevermind.

"Thallophytic plant" isn't even a recognized designation anymore. Also, this isn't a helpful definition because it, well, doesn't define anything. It does nothing to demystify lichens or explain what a lichen actually is (a symbiotic association between an obligate fungal partner and one or more photosynthesizing partners).

Hopes dashed. We soldier on.

[starrayblogs]

Please hsc tmnt2012 x reader in which the reader, during an argument, impulsively tells the turtle that he is a monster/mutant/mistake something like that, immediately realizes it and apologizes profusely, how do they react

ohhhh i've read so many scenarios like this back in like 2016 and they were the WORST– like they made me feel so horrible reading them because why would you call my boys that!!?

anyway, history repeats itself so i hope you get sad over this one too teehee. if someone asks for a reconciliation to this hcs, i'll probably do it :D

anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

pairings: (2012) leonardo x reader, raphael x reader, donatello x reader, and michelangelo x reader (gender neutral)

will include: angst

The mission went wrong in all possible ways. You had messed up your part of the mission and it ended up jeopardizing the entire plan. To add, you were injured in the battle and your favorite turtle had to come save you.

You were beginning to wish he hadn't.

He was lecturing you in his room, telling you all the things you should've done, should've avoided, and he just kept going on and on with this and that. You tried to defend yourself too.

However, it just became a pointless argument. You were heated and, then, you said something you didn't mean to...

Leonardo

"What did you expect, Leo!? I'm just a human with regular human abilities! You're a freak!" You yelled, standing up from his bed and pointing a finger at him.

You gasp. Your hands quickly cover your mouth as your face paints with guilt.

Leo blinks his eyes at you for a bit before dipping his head down. "Please, leave," he turns his back to you before pointing to the direction of his door. "Leave right now." He orders quietly.

when you finally leave the room, he rushes to the door and slides down with his shell against it. this way, you can't push his door open. not when he's pushing up against it

leo is the type to dwell on situations until it's been resolved. from what you yelled at him that night, this would never resolve

he makes sure to keep himself hidden as much as possible when you're down in the sewer after that. which is mostly locking himself in his room to meditate instead of the dojo.

if he does happen to bump into you, he does everything to hide his face at least before slipping back in the shadows. like freaks are used to do

he doesn't have the confidence to confront you either. he's fully convinced that when you don't try to talk to him again, that you really think he's a freak. that you don't want him in your life

every time that he meditates, all he can think about was the time you called him a freak. every time that he spars, all he can think of was that. it occupies his thoughts so badly

it makes him act irrational on patrols; he would yell at his brothers at the slightest slip up or beat up a kraangdroid longer than he should, and then he sees it-

his reflection in the metal. eyes white, teeth bared, and mask furrowed. he blinks and stumbles back as a cry locks itself in the middle of his throat. you were right, he is a freak

Raphael

"I'm injured, Raph! I'm clearly not in the mood to be scolded right now! What kind of monster do you have to be!?" You scream at him, jabbing a finger to his chest momentarily.

"Wha- monster!?" He growls.

"Yeah, yeah you are! You're a big, big, horrible, and rude monster!!!" You blow up in his face. He releases a sharp 'ha!' and grabs you by your shoulders, to which you grab him by the wrists.

It's no use pushing him back, considering he's much stronger. So the argument ends with you overlapping each other as Raph pushes you outside his room.

Only then do you realize what you said to him when he releases your shoulders. You were so blinded by your own anger than you didn't see the small shine in his eyes. Tears.

"Raph-" The door slams in your face.

he listens for your footsteps to tell if you've left or not. once you're gone, he tears up his room.

the entire sewer city of new york could probably hear him break his punching dummy, ripping comics, and screaming his lungs out. they hear everything but one thing, which is him crying

he spends his days going through different sewer pipes because his family got tired of him breaking things in the lair. he spends his day blaming you; telling himself that you were the one in the wrong

but at night, when he's tired himself out from wrecking and crying, he takes it all back. you were right, he is a monster

raph is the type to beat his sadness out to pass it off as anger until his tired and admits himself that he is sad. he's sad that you see him that way, and that you were correct

when he hears you're in the lair at night, he goes silent. he's the type to not want to be seen or heard by you again, because he's afraid that he'll just show you just how much of a monster he is again

Donatello

"Why don't you just go bug off, Donnie?! I'm sure an animal like yourself can do that!" In your outburst, you accidentally knock over a beaker. When it shatters on the ground, you realize what you've said.

You look to the turtle. He looked so sad. His mask was slightly furrowed, his mouth just a tad open, and his eyes glossy. He didn't look just sad, no– he looked hurt. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but he speaks first.

"Excuse me..." Donnie leaves the room with his head down.

donnie's obviously the type to drown himself in work to try and think about anything but the problem

however, he drowns himself in work for you. he tries to make trinkets, machines, and other sorts of gifts in hopes that you would forgive him when he gives it

but every time, without fail, he works on these projects, he hears you calling him an animal

he can't possibly do anything by himself, like an animal. he can only be reckless and thoughtless, like an animal.

animal, animal, animal- he didn't notice how loud his thoughts were and how it overtook his actions. he broke the gift he was making in the middle of it.

he cries about it for hours. and that's the cycle everyday. he tries to make a gift but he ends up breaking it because he gets in over his head, and he cries until he's tired

when he hears you down at the lair, he slides his bo in between the lab's doors. he cages himself inside that room, because, just like you said, he's an animal

Michelangelo

"You don't stop talking, do you, Mikey? Blah blah blah, ugh– you big-mouthed mutant!" You yell at him. You're panting heavily as he stared at you from the other side of the room. Silence.

Oh no.

"Mutant?" Mikey echoes your words, shakily. He had tears in his eyes but he closes them. He shakes his head and grabs a comic book, throwing it in your direction.

"Mikey, wai-"

"No! Get out my room!" His voice cracks in the middle of begging. He keeps throwing the nearest object near him at you, in an effort to push you out the room without touching you. "Get out!" His final cry has you dashing out the lair.

mikey loses all color in his personality after that. he would spend hours and hours at a time on his bed, curling himself up in a ball while crying

he never thought you saw him like that. he thought you were the pepperoni on his pizza, that you paired perfectly together. that's why you got along so well

his brothers try to get him back on his feet by inviting him back into his hobbies, but every time he would try- he'd start crying in the middle of it

because he'd think of how you two would do that activity together, but now all he can think of was that you saw him as a mutant. he's not human, so why is he doing these activities like he was?

whenever you two bump into each other at the lair, he tucks into his shell. he can hear you calling his name, but he doesn't pop out. that would show you more just how inhuman he is, how he's a mutant

mikey is the type to shut you out and refuse to interact with you. after all he's a mutant, and you're a human

what kind of pair is that? the imperfect one, he tells himself as he cries and curls into himself on his bed

[ballblender]

Could I request some headcanons for GoM + Kiyoshi helping their scared s/o on the train? I’ve never been on one before and I’d be so nervous. Death grip on their hands fr

a/n: Thanks for the ask!! I'll also include Kagami if that's okay! :) Btw anon, i recommend trying out the train (unless you live rural and far away from a station, or already know how to drive lol), it's honestly so convenient :) also jshdghd they might ooc because i honestly haven't watched the show in almost a year

GoM + Kiyoshi comforting their scared S/O on the train

cw: fluff, gn reader, idk - trains???, not proofread, my writing is never proofread LOL

Kuroko

"Y/N...what are you doing?"

It's a strange sight to see his usually smiley and happy partner currently cowering as the train rumbles. The carriage is full of passengers, standing tall above the pair.

"Don't laugh but, I...I don't use the train very often...or ever, at that."

Kuroko's face contorts to confusion.

"...so, this must be scary for you, right, Y/N?" Kuroko asks, smiling reassuringly as you bod in response.

"That's okay, I'm here with you. Just hold my hand."

He wasn't expecting you to grab onto him like he was your saviour, but giggled softly anyway.

He kisses your cheek, whispering how he'll have to take you out on dates more often so you can get used to the train.

Kagami

(having a little liberty this time since he wasn't technically part of the ask)

When your boyfriend told you that he'd show you around America, you were excited, as you should've been. Not much about the place seemed to matter to you right now though, as you stand, cramped up in the damp-smelling train of the New York City Subway.

Kagami himself appears unfazed by the way the carriage rumbles, the random coughing from every direction, the flickering lights, not even the rat licking up an old coffee stain on the floor.

"Taiga..."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"...I-I wasn't prepared for America to be this...how do i put it...ratholey?

Kagami laughs out loud, smiling broadly.

"That's a good way to describe New York."

You chuckle along with him, each other's laughter serving as a better light than whatever was short-circuiting above you both.

You hold his hand, and he holds yours, resting his palm on your thigh, as he rubs your knee with his thumb.

"LA is better than this, I promise."

Aomine

"Idiot...why are you scared?"

You can practically feel Aomine's mocking smirk forming, even if your eyes are shut and your face is buried in his chest.

"I don't use trains...you know I walk to school..."

Aomine's eyes roll as he sighs.

"Well, better get used to it now, or how are you gonna live in this city as an adult?"

It's these occasional moments of wisdom that draw you to Aomine. Until he of course ruins it.

"Unless you want me to piggyback you everywhere like a baby."

"Shut up."

He chuckles, stroking a few loose strands of your hair from your face.

"Kidding. I'm not gonna break my back carrying your ass."

You huff in annoyance at his comment, your hands finding his as your face buries into his chest even harder. He chuckles, squeezing your hand and kissing the crown of your head.

"I told you to shut up."

Midorima

"Oha Asa predicted (Your Star Sign) would not suffer any misfortunes today, you shouldn't worry." Midorima says this so matter-of-factly, it's scary.

"I-I know that...but it's still scary, Shin."

Midorima casually wraps a hand around your shoulder and pulls you slightly closer to him.

"You really should travel by train more often. In the future, what if a job you want requires you to travel by train? Don't be scared." he says his last sentence with a little smile, an uncharacteristic one at that, yet you find it so endearing.

Midorima has always been like this, acting less like a boyfriend, and more like a proper spouse, a husband you can share anything with, and be free of judgement, well, except from Oha Asa's.

You then feel him slip a small bangle onto your wrist.

"Your lucky item today is a silver bangle. But, I want you to wear it whenever you go on a train, okay? In fact, wear it everywhere, then I'll be with you."

You look down at the bangle, admiring the small 'M' engraved along it.

"I will...I'll wear it all the time. Thank you, Shin."

As he takes hold of your hand, you suppress a giggle; he'd already given you your lucky item earlier that day, a animal eraser. He must've been looking for an excuse to spoil you.

Murasakibara

The carriage rumbling: the murmurs of students: the ringing of phones. It was a lot to take in, especially since the last time you used the train was when you were a kid.

It especially didn't help that your giant of a boyfriend was crunching on snacks, the sound only adding to your unease.

"Mmph...this flavour's nice."

"Atsushi."

He turns to you and swallows the mouthful.

"Yeah, Y/N?"

"Could you...hold my hand?"

"Ehh? But how will I eat my snacks?"

"...use your other hand."

"But that hand's for holding the bag!"

This little dispute carries on for a while until he suggests, and you (hesitantly) decide to sit on his lap, perched on his thighs as he continues chomping away.

Weirdly, you do feel safe. Too bad you'll be getting crumbs all over you.

Kise

"So then my boss told me that-"

Although Kise is great at telling his stories, both about his modeling work and about Kasamatsu's never-ending impatience with him, you truly couldn't care less in this moment.

Your shoulders press together as the carriage shakes. The contact is hot and unpleasant, despite Kise's joyful face.

Your forehead begins to sweat, the air in the train is damp and humid.

"Kise, c-can you stop talking for just a second?"

"E-eh? Why? I was just getting to the good part!"

"I really don't feel well..."

Upon your words, Kise looks up at the announcement bar, and grabs your hand.

"Come on, Y/N, let's get off at this station."

"Huh? This isn't our stop though..."

He chuckles, the train coming to a stop, as he leads you out.

"I can't have you fainting on me! Let's cool down with a drink or something, my treat!"

You smile at the offer.

"Alright."

Akashi

While you and Akashi would usually walk together, or get rides in his limo, today he decided to use the train. You honestly didn't question it, Akashi always had his reasons for doing what he did.

What you forgot, however, was that you've never actually been on the train before.

It's more...suffocating than you were imagining, despite passing by the beautiful hills and landscapes. Akashi is drawn to them, staring out of the window with a small smile painted across his face.

You, however, can't ignore the other passengers. The sneezing lady, the sniffling office worker, the crying baby. It's a lot all at once.

"Y/N? ...What are you doing?"

You realize that, subconsciously, you covered your ears with your hands.

"Ah, sorry."

"...Do you not like the train?"

"...I...i've just never been on one before..."

A slight silence forms between the two of you.

Akashi's fingers slowly find yours.

As your hands squeeze together, you know it'll be alright.

Kiyoshi

You're with the rest of the Seirin team, walking back from a game (Kiyoshi managed to convince Riko to let you watch from the bench), when Riko rounds up everybody to get their attention.

"Okay everybody! We have to meet up early tomorrow, so let's get the next train out of here."

Everybody nods in agreement, and you realise, you've never actually been on a train before. Kiyoshi's hand squeezes yours as soon as your expression changes.

"Y/N? What's wrong?"

"I've...never been on a train before."

He blinks for a moment.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah..."

Kiyoshi chuckles.

"Well, what is it that you're so afraid of?"

"Just...never thought i'd have to go on one."

Kiyoshi chuckles again, shaking his head slightly.

"We'll have to go on dates more often to help you get used to it then."

-------

a/n 2: sorry for the lack of posts, and more sorry to this anon for how late this post is. ill try better to post more often hehe

[alloftheimaginesblog]

happy new year {peter parker}

part one here

plot: after your ex peter leaves you a card on christmas, you go visit him.

character: peter parker x female character

note: i love emotional, touch starved peter parker

It had been almost a week since Peter had left the card on your fire escape and you'd not reached out in any way shape or form despite Peter's hopes and wishes. He took that as the final nail in the coffin. You had completely moved on so it was time he did too.

He had just finished his second patrol of the day and was coming back to Aunt May's for some lunch when his enhanced hearing could hear muffled voices and laughter coming from Aunt May's home. Someone else was here. Peter frowned. Aunt May hadn't mentioned anyone else coming over today. He shrugged it off, maybe just a neighbour coming to wish her a happy new year.

He pulled the mask off, shoving it into his hoodie's pocket - he liked doing his patrols with a hoodie and sweatpants over it to keep the winter chill of New York away - and opened the door. The voices were louder but still muffled, he couldn't tell who it was.

He dropped his backpack by the door and walked into the kitchen where the voices were coming from. Peter was expecting a neighbour - Mr Jenkins or Anita from across the street - he certainly hadn't been expecting the person who was sitting across the kitchen table from Aunt May.

It was you.

Everything seemed to stop, time slowed right down and all Peter could do was stare at you with an expression with resembled that of seeing a ghost. He was acutely aware of his heartbeat, hammering loudly in his chest, ears ringing as your head rose to look at him. Your smile faltered for the briefest of moments as Aunt May stood, re-introducing the two of you after all this time. Your lips moved but he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears.

It took a solid ten seconds for Peter to come back to reality. He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. He hadn't prepared for this. He wasn't prepared to encounter you again. He thought that this chapter was done, closed and finished... But you were standing in his Aunt's kitchen.

"Hey, Peter," you said gently. God, he wanted to fall to his knees with the way you said his name. One word, two syllables and he would've killed for you if you asked him to.

Aunt May saw his surprise and half stepped in front of you, almost shielding him from you so that he could regain some form of composure, "(y/n) wasn't sure where your new apartment was, Peter, so she came here. She brought some delicious scones as a new year's gift." Her eyes were aglow with excitement, she had hoped the two of you would find your way back to each other and maybe this was that connection finally happening like it should've stayed.

"Uh," Peter nodded to his Aunt May, silently telling her that was he was okay and she moved out of the way. Peter took a deep breath. You looked perfect. He'd seen you a week ago, Christmas Eve, but right now it was like he was seeing you for the first time. Your hair was loose and bouncy, your cheeks slightly rosy from the winter chill, your eyes wide and smiling at him with a slightly unsure expression, "Hi." All it took was that one word and he saw you visibly relax, saw your shoulders fall and saw a flash of relief on your face.

Aunt May quickly thought of an excuse to leave and left the two of you in the kitchen with so much tension hanging in the air between the two of you, "How-"

"I'm sorry-" you blurted out.

Peter frowned, "What?"

"- for just showing up. I-I went to your apartment - your old apartment - the woman that lives there didn't have a forwarding address for you and she wasn't all very pleasant at all-" Peter smiled slightly at your nervous rambling, "-and I knew where Aunt May lived and I had to talk to you so I just came here. I didn't think to call because- I don't actually know. I-"

"Hey," his voice was so soft and gentle, "it's fine." There was a moment's pause and he continued, "I moved about six months ago. Needed a change." The apartment was full of the ghost of you. "Few blocks away from my old apartment. Nicer. Rent is horrendous though." This made you crack a smile.

Again, silence fell. It was awkward. You had come here prepared to tell him what you needed to tell him and now, standing in front of him... you were too scared. He looked good. Tired but good. He had grown his beard out which was nice, you always loved him with a beard. It suited him. His chocolate eyes were just as warm but there was a sadness surrounding him again, like when you first met him.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked quietly.

You nodded immediately, "Sounds good."

The snow fell slowly, floating down to the ground as you and Peter walked. Neither of you spoke but it was a little more comfortable being out in the open with the sounds of New York around the two of you.

Anxiously, your fingernails dug into your skin. Just tell him, (y/n). You came all this way to chicken out?! You took a breath but Peter beat you to the chase.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped by coming to your apartment," he said sincerely, "I-I know that's why you're here so scream at me if you want, I just... I deserve it." You frowned, confused, "Aunt May had told me she bumped into you and you were with someone and you were happy... I... I got jealous but I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Pete," you said with a shake of the head, "I mean, yeah, you overstepped the mark. It was completely and wildly inappropriate and almost kind of creepy?" You took a second to pick your words, "But you made me kind of snap out of the auto pilot mode I was in."

It was Peter's turn to be confused.

"Jasper... He was great. He's someone Rachel set me up with a few months ago and yeah, he was fun but..." He wasn't you, "it wasn't going to work out. We wanted different things."

You cleared your throat, refusing to look at him and instead looked away from him watching the snow fall, "Wait... you broke up?" You nodded, again not looking at Peter. Embers of hope began to burn a little brighter in his stomach, "Oh."

"He knew about you, you know," you said quietly and had Peter not had enhanced hearing he wouldn't have heard your next few sentences, "He knew he had no chance competing against you even though you weren't trying until last week. He knew that I still loved you."

Peter's face softened and he slowed down with you. He stretched his hand out to take yours but hesitated and his hand fell. For a moment, the two of you stood - you with your back turned and Peter with the most forlorn expression.

"I really tried to get over you, Pete. I really tried." You sniffed, wiping tears away before they could fall. You turned to him, seeing his own eyes welling with tears, "It wasn't your fault, Peter."

His head fell back onto his shoulders as he closed his eyes, tears mixing with wet snow as he exhaled a long breath. For over a year, he harboured the guilt of your accident. It was because of him; who he was. You got hurt and he hated himself for it.

Your hands clasped his cheeks and Peter gasped. He was so touch starved, he hadn't realised that another person hadn't touched him besides Aunt May in a year. You pulled his head away from the sky to look down at you, "You hear me?" You were crying, "What happened to me, it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you, Peter, I never have and I'm so sorry that I couldn't help you last year. I'm so sorry you've held onto this all this time."

He opened his eyes, staring at you again for what felt like the first time, "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"I know that," you let out a sob, "Peter, everything you've ever done is to protect me! Had it not been for you, I would've died. You webbed my wounds and took me hospital immediately, you saved me."

"But-"

"You saved me, Peter. None of it was your fault. I do not blame you. Please, please stop blaming yourself."

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, pulling him down so you could plant the kiss on him. Then one on his wet nose. Despite the cold, Peter's body was on fire at your touch. This was what he'd been craving for a full year. You.

"You better stop," his voice was thick, "cause if you let me kiss you, I'm never gonna let you go again."

You smiled widely, pressing your foreheads together, "I'm not gonna leave again so by all means..."

He didn't need to be told twice. His lips were on yours in a flash, hot and cold, melding together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He still tasted the same; chocolate, coffee and peppermint. His hands pulled you in, not hesitant anymore but confident and knowing. He pulled you flush against him as he kissed you, a hand weaving into your hair as the other wrapped around your back. God you missed him. And for a moment, just for a moment, everything in the world was good and everything was right.

What a way to start the year.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

You Come Home Drunk (Fluff)

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Just got home from a casual night out, but instead of sleep I needed some Leo love. Mainly just fluff. I might be slightly tipsy, but that is the North European way💙

Aged up to at least 18 if you're none American, 21 if you’re American.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, description of drunken state, spelling.

—------------------------------------------

The cityscape of New York was a breathtaking sea of lights. Almost as breathtaking as the light in the club you had just left, you thought to yourself as you stumbled your way back home after a night out with your friends. The laughter and chatter of the evening still echoed in your ears, but the alcohol coursing through your veins made the world spin a little too much.

As you fumbled with the keys to your apartment, the door swung open, revealing your boyfriend Leonardo. It wasn’t uncommon for Leo to stay in your apartment, even when you weren’t home. It was a place Leo could find peace, when his own home and brothers became too much for him to handle. Sometimes he would also come over, just to spend some time with you, or just to feel comfortable in a room that smelled of you.

Leo’s blue eyes widened in surprise as he took in your disheveled appearance. Your laughter bubbled out uncontrollably as you tried to maintain your balance. Leo knew your plans for tonight, and he had expected you to come home drunk. But he had not expected you to be THAT drunk.

"Whoa there", Leo said, catching you before you could faceplant into your own doormat. "What happened to you?", he asked, as he guided you into your kitchen so he could get you some water.

You grinned, the alcohol dulling any sense of embarrassment. "Had an amazing time, Leo. You should've come!"

"I'm not much of a party person," he chuckled, placing you on the kitchen island, before going for a glass in the cupboard. "As a turtle, the party scene is not really a thing for me. But I can see that you enjoyed yourself".

“That’s a lie!”, you smiled, limbs lashing out in a childlike manner that made Leo chuckle. “Mikey loves parties!”

“Yeah, but Mikey is a special case”, Leo told you, handing you a glass filled with water. “Now drink”.

You did as your boyfriend told you, and drank the water he had gotten you. When you finally had emptied the glass, Leo helped you down from sitting on the kitchen island to standing on the floor boards. You felt a tingle in your stomach when he did so, causing you to laugh. Your laughter turned into a melodious hum as you swayed a little too much.

Leo sighed. "Let's get you to bed."

With a gentle touch, Leo guided you to your room. He told you to get ready for bed, before going to fill another glass of water for your nightstand. But when he came back, you were still standing in your clothes, making a face that Leo couldn’t help but chuckle at.

“Didn’t I tell you to get ready?”, he asked, placing the glass on your nightstand. You didn’t answer but instead sloppily lifted your arms, signaling for him to take it off. Leo sighed before taking your cute face in his hands, looking into your eyes. “Baby, you’re drunk. You know I can’t take your clothes off”. You answered him with a scuff, before waving your arms, signaling him to do it anyway. Leo breathed a long sigh. “Fine, but your underwear stays on. We ain’t doing any of that while you’re drunk”.

Leo helped you out your clothes and into bed. The coolness of the sheets felt heavenly against your flushed skin as you lay down, your head spinning. Leo tucked you in, a soft smile on his face as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. The moment you laid down, you were fighting to stay awake.

"Thanks for taking care of me," you slurred, reaching out to grasp his hand.

"It's what I'm here for," Leo replied, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Now get some rest. I'll be around if you need anything."

As you drifted into a contented slumber, Leo couldn't help but watch over you for a while. He admired your carefree spirit, even if it meant dealing with a slightly drunken version of you. It was just a part of being with you, and he loved every minute of it.

The next morning, you awoke to the gentle aroma of coffee and the clinking of plates from your kitchen. With an aching head and shaking limbs, you rose from your bed and walked into the kitchen to see what was happening. Leo stood in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with a focused expression. In fear of what would happen if he used the stove, he had opted to make you toast and a salad. It was not a lot, but with Leo’s lacking skills in the kitchen, it felt like everything.

"Morning," Leo greeted, a fond smile on his face as he set a plate in front of you on the table.

You winced as you sat down, the sunlight streaming into the room making your head throb. "Morning - ow. And... sorry about last night."

Leo chuckled, taking a seat beside you. "No need to apologize. It was entertaining. Plus, I got to take care of you. That is always fun".

You couldn't help but smile back, grateful for the caring turtle you called your boyfriend. As you shared your easy breakfast, you realized that sometimes, the most unexpected moments could bring you closer. And so, inside your quiet apartment in the middle of the city, the bond between you and Leo strengthened, creating a story to remember.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I was so excited to see this 1892 Victorian b/c of the round turret. But, I am in shock over what they did to the home. I never expected this. Located in Goshen, New York, it has 5bds, 4.5ba, and they want $995K. I wouldn't give them $9.95. Look at how they completely stripped it of all character.

There was no point in showing the center entrance hall, b/c it's been stripped of everything. Instead of 2 sitting rooms, there's a modern living room and a dining room across the hall.

This was sitting room #1.

And, here's the dining room, which was probably the reception room. Why did they leave the original exterior intact? What was the point? The should've put up vinyl siding.

The original dining room was turned into a dinette, I guess. The windows. Wonder if that rectangular one was stained glass.

I have never seen anything like this. Usually, they'll paint the original woodwork white, or leave a little something original. Every piece of millwork was removed.

The new guest powder room.

Oh, lord, whatever beautiful original railing there was has been replaced. They just gutted every single bit of Victoriana and left nothing. I wonder if they at least sold it to an architectural salvage company.

I'm certain that they removed the fireplaces from the bedrooms. They even modernized the windows in the bump-out. Crown moldings are gone, everything's gone.

Blech.

There were probably lovely doors to a terrace, but they've been replaced by modern glass doors.

The new, improved terrace. I'm picturing a quaint covered porch that might've been here.

Modern bath.

They left a fireplace in the primary bedroom, but it's modernized and has a deep window in what was once the chimney.

Could this be any more bland?

This must be their version of a modern clawfoot tub.

And, it's in the round turret that I was so excited about.

Note that instead of allowing us to see right to the top, they constructed a weird frame for an overhead fixture and blocked it with a disk. They say that it has a turret- this is no longer a turret. I pictured brick walls and an amazing cozy little room, but now it's an angular tub room thanks to wall board and wallpaper.

The bedrooms are a waste of time and so are the baths.

And, we are in the finished attic on the 3rd level.

There's nothing anyone can do to fix it. It's ruined. The corner lot is 0.4 acre.

[burrowbaddie]

Imagine Joe having sex with you underneath a tree

Cabin Fever

Joe Burrow x Reader

A/N: This was such a good request! I hope you like it! Sorry if it sucks a bit. I did have fun writing it, so that's all that matters! Hehe! Thank you for the request!

The June air is warm, and the sun is high in the sky. You sit on the back porch watching your boyfriend resume his workout. He promised you a nice little weekend getaway in upstate New York. But here he was once again zoned in on his football regimen. You lift your shades and put down the book you had been reading.

"Joesph! This is not a mini vacation if all you've been doing is working out!" You yell out to him. Joe takes his AirPods out.

"Did you say something, babe?" He shouts back. You wave him over. Joe puts down the rope and runs over to you. He's shirtless, covered in sweat, with nothing but shorts on. He leans down to kiss your lips, but you turn your head.

"I'm going to make lunch, and I expect you to take a break and join me. over there for a picnic." You point to the tallest tree on the woods' outskirts, aligning the property. Joe groans.

"We just had breakfast, sweetheart."

"That was 4 hours ago. You've been at this nonsense non-stop. Lunch with me, or I'm leaving."

"Fine. But I need to work on a few throws and then-"

"You have 15 mins." You warn him getting up and walking into the cabin. Joe goes back to the field to finish things up. Meanwhile, you begin making lunch. You prepare some sandwiches and a charcuterie board. You pack everything into the basket and grab drinks before heading back out. Joe is still focused on throwing. You walk across the backyard and lay the blanket down underneath the tree. The tree gives you the perfect shade, and you bask in the coolness. Joe has been working under the sun all afternoon. You had put sunscreen on him earlier, but you could tell he would have a bit of a tan; regardless, you hoped it didn't burn too much.

"Joseph!" You wave him over. Your boyfriend holds up five fingers, and you glare at him through your sunglasses. You stand up, putting your hands on your hips, signaling you are not playing anymore. Joe gives you a cheeky smile and puts the football down. He goes inside for 10 mins and returns with a fresh shirt and shorts. You're guessing he washed up because when he sits next to you no longer smells of sweat, but his usual body wash.

"Looks good. Thank you." He grabs a sandwich, and you smile, feeling victory. But for the next 15 mins, he goes on about losing to KC and how he should've played better. Standing up, you lift your sundress, pulling your underwear off, stopping Joe from talking. Normally you love hearing him rant about football, but today was not the day. He promised you a weekend of you and him, no football. Joe licks the vegan mayo off his lips and watches you sit down. You open the strawberries and start eating them slowly. Joe's blue eyes don't stop watching you as you sit back down. He chuckles and places his sandwich down.

"I'm sorry, baby." He crawls over towards you spreading your legs. You play a foot on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry for not giving my beautiful girlfriend my undivided attention." He says, kissing your ankle.

"I don't know if I forgive you."

"How can I make it up to you?" Joe's eyes darken as you remove your foot and open your legs. When it came to your pussy, Joe never wasted time enjoying what was in front of him. You can barely get a word out before Joe dives right in. Joe starts licking and twirling his tongue around your clit before spreading your folds for a messy make-out session with your cunt. Your dress shielded Joe from your view, so you had to go on feeling and sound as he slurped between your legs like a starved animal. Joe has perfected his technique; it takes less than a min for you to cum on his tongue, and that was before his fingers even entered you. Joe pushes your dress off his head and sits up while slowly adding two fingers into you. Your legs shake, and your eyes shoot open. Joe is staring down at you with a wide grin. He pushes your trembling legs apart and takes his place between them. Joe bends down to kiss you. The kiss starts off slow, and you try your best to concentrate on his lips, but with Joe being three fingers knuckle deep in your pussy you're losing focus. He slaps your thigh and bites your bottom lip to keep you focused on him.

"Joe, wait, please." You beg, but Joe doesn't let up. You reach down to grab his hands, and Joe smiles against your lips.

"Nu-uh. You wanted this remember? You're ovulating this week. You've been walking around with nothing under your negligee, begging for it. Begging for me to stuff you full. I'm going to give it to you. And you're going to take every last drop." Joe whispers the last part in your ear, and you rain down on his hand cumming again. You've been discussing having children for the last two months. Yes, Joe said you guys could try. So yes, you have purposely walked around like a dog in heat this week. Joe took his fingers out of your drenched pussy and licked them, sucking your juices off each digit. His shorts are pulled down, and his cock springs out. You sit on your elbows, watching Joe altogether remove his clothes. He leaves you in your yellow sundress because Joe has this thing where he loves fucking you when you're half-dressed. He bunches the dress up your waist and grins. Joe slaps the tip of his dick on your pussy before rubbing it against your clit.

"Please. Hurry."

"Slow down, baby." He warns you. Joe slowly inches in, making your legs shake. In and out. He buries himself into you to the hilt, only to slowly drag it out.

"Stop teasing." You cry. With that, Joe grabs hold of your hips and fucks into you faster, giving you exactly what you wanted. He fucks you dumb. Your mouth is open, but you can't get a word or sound out because Joe hits your g-spot repeatedly. Your legs start shaking uncontrollably, and Joe rubs your clit with his thumb, praising you.

"That's my girl, baby. That's it." Joe says, pulling out until the tip to watch you squirt. Your body twitches and Joe uses this time to pull your dress off and toss it in the grass. He pulls you up on his lap, letting you ride him. But you're still in a dazy, so he bounces you up and down. Throwing your head back, you moan his name and tell him how good he feels. Joe kisses your neck, telling you how good it feels inside you.

"Mine. All mine. I fucking love it in here. Never letting this go." He groans into your neck.

"Yours. It's all yours, Joey." Tears prick your water line again because he quickly found your spot. You don't know if you can handle another orgasm just yet. Joe releases your hips and sits back on his hands, watching you work yourself on his dick.

"Make me a mommy!"

"Yeah? You-you want me to make you a mommy?" Joe stutters, feeling himself about to bust. You look down at him, slowly circling your hips now. You're in control now, and you want to tease Joe. But your boyfriend isn't having that. He is forcing you on your back with your knees pressed against your ears in one quick motion.

"Not-Not fair." You whine, feeling him deep inside you. Joe continues fucking you in that position until is cumming. You love this feeling, his warm cum slowly leaking out of your pussy. You're filled to the brim with his seed. Joe lets go of your weak legs, watching them drop flat like dead weights. He bends down to kiss your belly while pushing his cum back into you with his fingers.

"Can't waste it." He whispers against your stomach. You shudder, and Joe turns you over, wanting to enter you from behind. With shaky hands and legs, you get onto your hands and knees. Joe is in you again before you can steady yourself. You hold on to the tree for support, making Joe laugh as he holds your hips.

"Slow mm, slow down."

Joe doesn't slow down. He lets go of the grip on your hips to hold onto the tree. Every time your ass connects with his pelvis, your knees buckle. It feels so good but is too much at the same time. You start biting your bottom lip, trying to keep quiet because you are on the verge of screaming. At one point, Joe holds your right leg up, creating an angle that sends your eyesight out of focus.

"Why are you quiet now?" Joe stops everything, and you whimper when he pulls out.

"I don't want to be too loud." You whisper. Joe smacks your ass, causing you to yelp.

"Who is going to hear you? Hmm, the birds? Deer? A bear? I don't think the animals care, sweetheart."

You turn around, giving him a fuck you look. Joe slides back in. This time he slows down. You are able to sit up on your knees, letting him fuck up into you. Joe links your hand with his and holds them against the tree.

"My pretty girl. So fucking pretty." He kisses the back of your neck.

"Say it. Say you're my pretty girl."

"I'm your pretty girl." You cry out, squeezing his hand. Joe lets go of you and tells you to lay on your back. You reposition and open your legs, allowing him back in. This time Joe kisses you senselessly while he fucks you. He whispers over and over how much he loves you. And you start crying. You full-on sob as Joe cums into you. He pulls out and looks at you, confused. You hide your face from the embarrassment of having a random breakdown. But every time Joe confesses his love to you, it hits you right in the heart.

"I love you so much, Joseph." You sniffle. He leans down, letting you cup his face.

"I love you more than my own life. I'm sorry I ruined lunch." He chuckles, kissing your hand. You shake your head. You're full of food, cum, covered in sweat, and smells of Joe; there is nothing that is ruined. Joe stands up and picks you up bridal style.

"I'm sleepy."

"Baby. We just started. I need to get my work out in somewhere. Plus, babies don't make themselves!"

"Joseph, wait!" You squeal as he takes off in a sprint to the cabin.

It isn't until 8 pm that you emerge from the cabin to clean up the picnic. You can barely stand but need to get things cleaned up before the animals come. Lucky for you, the food is untouched and still in the basket. You grab the clothes, blanket, and basket and return to the cabin. Joe is sitting in the living room on facetime with his brother.

"Tell my sister-in-law I said hello!" His brother shouts. Joe holds up the phone, and you wave. Joe hangs up with his brother and meets you in the kitchen.

"How about we go for a swim later."

"My legs can't handle that right now." You giggle, leaning against him. Joe rubs your back and hums. He reaches down in his shorts, clutching the bright blue Tiffany's ring box. Joe knows the idea of marriage scares you. When you first started dating, you told him that marriage was off the table, but you would be open to cohabitation if it led to that. Joe was completely thrown off during that part, and let's say the first date was the last date. That was until you met again at a college party. That was seven years ago. You guys have broken up and gotten back together. So just maybe, things have changed. Joe didn't just want to make you a mother. He wanted you as his wife too. Even if it's only a thing on paper, as you say, Joe wanted that.

"Did you hear me?" You ask, bringing him back to reality.

"Uhh, sorry. What's up?"

"I'm going to be pretty pregnant, right? Do you think I could pull off Rihanna type looks?"

"Of course. You'd be prettier than her."

"Let's not get carried away, Joseph. No one is touching mother." You laugh, walking away. Joe squeezes the box. It's now or never. He gets down on his knee while your back is turned.

"There's this little vegan place in town. Let's have dinner there. Urgh, but it's really hard to find a good vegan place and the reviews kinda suck." You complain closing the fridge. Joe panics and puts the box back in his pocket.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Just looking at the dust." Joe gets up, laughing. You eye him suspiciously but let him go.

"Let me fix my hair, and then we can go," Joe says, rushing out of the room. You lean against the counter, scrolling Twitter waiting for your boyfriend to return. Joe stuffs the box into a random door and sighs. He's afraid you'll leave him again if he brings up marriage. Maybe it was just better to be with you like this. Joe hopes Tiffany's have a return policy for rings purchased two years ago.

[buzzkillers]

A little of you, A little of Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Warning: non-con, power unbalance, implied smut, emotional manipulation, fuck or die (?)

He said it was a canon event. He was obviously lying. 

Not like that mattered, in the grand scheme of things anyway. Everyone lied to you here, no one thought you were worthy of the truth. This wasn't your world after all and this wasn't your New York. So the rules were just a bit different, a little off.

You couldn't get a pass by just being you.

Nah, you were a played out parlor trick. Something that's been copied and pasted into far too many universes and dimensions. You weren't special. Your name might've not been Peter Parker but that wasn't enough.

You needed to be more. You needed to have something. Anything that would impress Miguel enough to see you as a threat; as someone not worth lying to.

Outside of that, what was there to say? You were just a variant.

Another younger spider person that life hadn’t trampled on yet in your attempt at a normal life. You weren't Ben Reilly or Jessica or that miniature spider from Earth 6-877. And if you wanted to be nice (which was rare) you'd say that your purpose was to look like you had purpose. Like you had any business being here at all.

Just someone to look at Miguel so he could rant and whine about anomalies and dimensional pockets as if any of that sounded sane.

Yet, against your will, you fell in line all the same. Under his gaze, your back straightened and your heart beated erratically while you at least pretended to listen. You had no other choice really. Blame it on being young, or a spider or simply being too naive to see the bad in good.

But when someone with enough confidence, bravado and well everything that made Miguel who he was, said something. It was almost to easy to listen to him, it was practically expected. What else were you going to do? Be stubborn, selfish? Ignorant?

Maybe that’s why Miguel O’hara terrified you. 

You knew he was lying but you couldn’t help but listen anyway. In the grand scheme of things he was good at that. With precision and brute strength, he strung together a web of lies and sticky fibs that made you unable to leave. ‘Your canon event’ he had whispered to you in the darkness of his lair. (Cause what else would you call an office with only a computer as its light source) 

He had said it so smoothly, so easily; With open arms and eyes wide enough to hide the glimmer of red sheeted underneath it. There was no light show this time, no complicated holograms of the dead parents and the venom symbiotes or the constant blood and death and lost children, no it was just him.

And somehow that was way worse, way more horrific and ankle biting for someone like you.

After all, Miguel was the world, the universe and you were just this thing. This small, crushable thing that backed away and flinched when he took a step too close.

Who couldn’t hide the panicked breaths and syrupy heat that pooled in your stomach. You were nothing beneath the man that created it all. It was a fact that made your ears stay perked up beneath the mask. You were you and he was everything. You should've just listened to him. Yet,

“I don't understand,” it was a statement that broke through all of the other bullshit that bubbled in the base of your throat. All the fear and confusion until you looked at him head on. At Miguel whose frame suddenly swallowed the very shadow of you; With his tall stature and big eyes that glowed in the dark, a new light source that only made you tense up.

A moth that was afraid of the light. That's what you were and you couldn’t help but place another foot back; stumbling like a gangly spider with no stickiness to its legs.

Miguel of course, stood tall and firm. 

“I know it's a lot to take in, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you,” you frowned at that, another lie. So much so that your senses couldn’t help but ring a bit higher.

“Then why did you,” you blurted out, cause what else was there to say? Nothing it seemed because Miguel only looked down at you, forever down at you as if you were a kid.

As if you didn’t have a college essay due in a week and a date with your own Peter in another. Jesus, you paid taxes for crying out loud.

You weren’t a child, you weren’t Gwen or Pavitar or god forbid Peter B. You were fucking Spider-Woman, you could ask questions, you could ask why. But the longer the question lingered in the air, the more childish you felt and the more ridiculous you realized it was to question Miguel. 

Suddenly you felt silly, even if Jessica was suspiciously not here and Peter was gone and everyone that littered the corners of this office of his was now non-existent.

To be honest, if it weren’t for the scuffs you heard beneath the floorboards, you might’ve been tricked into thinking that you were the only ones in this building, in this entire shitty city even. 

The corners of your lips now trembled and your hands pulled at the spandex of your suit. You looked down. “I have a date next week,”

"it's gonna be our first one," it was a shitty protest but,

“And do you think that's worth the end of the multiverse?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply crowded you in and backed you up roughly until your feet twisted again with the other. 

“Do you think your Peter would want everyone to die just so what? He can get his dick wet?” Your face twisted at that.

“Go fuck yourself," Cause nah you weren’t a push over.

Yet, you could only bring your mask halfway up to say it; enough for him to read your lips and see the way they sneered at him. He didn’t need to know that your eyes were firm on the ceiling the whole time.

“You know nothing about me, about him,”

He got closer, suddenly you were chest to chest. “I know that the Miguel in your universe is dead,”

“I know that in every version of you and every version of me there's an us, no matter how it happens, or how quick it is,” Bullshit, it was all fucking bullshit. But he said it with such confidence and reluctance, like the words were hard to think about, much less say.  

“Listen, I’ll make it quick” he continued, a rough hand now on your shoulder. All that muscle that you built over the years now nothing beneath his grip.

Optimistically, some part of you thought he meant for it to be reassuring but your senses have started to scream and there was a tremble in your thighs that wasn't there before. This time, it was Miguel that pushed you back, your knees buckling into something hard. 

“No, there has to be another way,” 

“There's not—unfortunately” he added on, like it was an afterthought. 

"Bullshit,"

“Did you even try?”

“Try?” he cocked his head, jaw clenched tight. “Trying means there's a possibility of failing, Spider-woman,” 

“Are you willing to take that risk?” Are you? Have you ever? Of course, the words stayed stuck in your throat.

Buried and dead, all while Miguel looked at you with the intensity of someone who regularly gave false choices before solemnly he rolled his shoulders. Whatever he found in the tremble of your lips and awkwardness of your gait making him attempt something close to a smile. 

"Listen, I'm trying to be nice," He sighed, his fangs gleaming beneath his lips. "Or do you think I want this? Want you?" And ok, ouch.

"Man, I just think this situation is fucked,"

"I mean, why does it have to be you," it could be any other varient. Any other Miguel. But the comment only earned you another childish look down.

Another sneer that said you knew nothing, he knew everything and you might as well just fall in line. The grip on your shoulders grew tighter. Beneath him you suffocated.

Above you, his eyes bled red and his fangs never looked so sharp. "The multiverse could collapse at any moment and you want conveniency?"

"I was just thinking-"

"And that's the problem,"

"You thought, and now we're debating the fate of trillions,"

"Are you really that selfish?" he spat and your eyes widened.

Selfish. You seized up at that word like it was poison and in a way it was. Selfish and Spider-Woman were antonyms. They fought constantly and neither ever won. Selfishness was a curse, a bane that wove itself into your skin until you dragged it out yourself. Pulling and pulling and pulling until you felt it kiss your underskin.

Selfish. Bile bubbled in your throat and your fingers tingled. He was lying. You knew this, you felt the truth sting at your skin, felt the pricks at the base of your neck and yet,

"Ok," you whispered. One word but Miguel didn't need you to repeat yourself.

“Ok," he drew out testedly, as if he was tasting his own victory.

"Then come on,” he gestured to something behind you; his expression still sorrow as if this was hard for him. “Bend over,”

“On your tippy toes and widen your legs,” God, he did not just say ‘tippy toes’.

‘Is that a part of the canon event too?’ you wanted to ask.

But to speak it meant to acknowledge what this really was. It meant that you couldn’t pretend that you ever had a choice. 

Yet, your tongue still burned with questions, with the why,why,why. A list of snarky, back handed comments laid at the tip of your tongue. You had so many questions to ask.

And childishly you couldn't help but think that maybe you could change his mind, maybe you could convince him that this wasn't worth it. If only you used the right set of words, the correct cadence, an inspiring lilt to your tongue.

But Miguel O’hara was terrifying and big and all the doors were closed and there was only one source of light and-

You turned around and bent over, on your tippy toes. 

Suddenly, a strong ache stretched from your legs and into your belly. Before eventually it twisted into your senses and made your head hurt and core heat up. Did your body know? Did it understand what was happening?

From behind you, Miguel's feet stayed stagnant, frozen in place. 

It was an reaction that gave you half a mind to stand back up cause what if this was a joke? A sick fucking joke and everyone was about to come out of the corners and laugh and tease you for again being the dumbest of the spidermen before what sounded like the largest exhale known to man bounced off the walls and Miguel was directly behind you. A large hand pressed onto your back, as if he thought you were gonna escape, as if you could. 

“One day you’ll thank me for this,” he whispered, while you ignored the way his breath went ragged, and the way his talons slowly spliced at the spandex of your suit.

Quickly, your cunt hit cold air and you shuddered violently. Miguel took another deep breath, his taloned fingers brushed against your cheek before gently, patiently he pulled the mask off your face. Your braids now splayed across the table.

"Now look forward, we're saving the world," then his suit completely dematerialized, and you widened your legs.

[tinysmileyrose]

IHNMaIMS CHARACTER DOSSIER

yeaahh!! back at it again with more screamn't shit because i feel awkward rambling about it to my friends so you guys are my next option!!! hello silly internet people!! this is VERY heavy on headcanons because it's me flushing shit out for my own purposes, but it's also using canon stuff and....my own logic, i guess? basically this is just me rambling character info, if i ever get around to wanting to actually finish a whole drawing i'll tack them on but for now just use your imaginations 'kayy? happy reading :] !!

THE PRISONERS

The five remaining humans (ignoring the 750 on Luna, they're not on Earth!!), damned to be within AM's belly ever since it set off the nukes back in 2012. Never aging, never dying no matter how many times their bodies are eviscerated or torched, broken and battered. They are punished for the crime of being human, just as they have punished those for the crime of their being small and wriggling. To AM, death is too forgiving of a punishment for what they are.

Gorrister

Lester Morrison

Scottish descent B. 08 July 1962 (50) in Cleveland, Ohio. 5’7” ~ 170cm Cismale, He/Him, Gynoromantic Gynosexual Monoamorous

Rather peaceful and withdrawn, more of a doer than a talker but has his heart in the right place. After AM, he gives into violent urges and hates himself for it.

Lester travelled around most of his life, barely graduating high school and working countless odd jobs as he was a great handyman and that was about it. He ping-ponged around a couple of states before catching a ride to New York from his hometown at 25, soon giving him a life of truck-driving for the next 20 years. At least it was stable work, that's all he really needed. He met Glynis at a bar, they hit it off and he married her since she had been the only one to really seem to want him around, and they had a horrible two-year marriage. Being out on the road all the time didn't give him much time to bond with her in-depth, and not being able to give her kids didn't help much at all. She divorced him after he got pissy and punched her on the head, hard over the right ear. Got told by his late-mother-in-law Edna his actions put her in a mental institution, which was a lie, but he didn't know that. The woman hated him and sent her own child into a nervous breakdown. Without the truth, he blamed himself for it. Hated himself for hurting Glynis, the woman he couldn't talk to. He had never been violent to anyone before then, had always been keeping his head down but guilt is a terrible thing, afterall. Three years later it's the end of the world and he has no idea where his old lover is, how she's doing.

Benny

Professor Benjamin Quinn-Marques "Qim"

Irish/Portuguese descent B. 29 November 1968 (44) in Castle Pines, Colorado. 6’4” ~ 194cm Cismale, He/Him, Androromantic Androsexual Polyamorous

Stern but sweet, deep down at least. Driven by desires more than anything. After AM his mind is unable to outwardly show things, something like being locked into infantality.

Benjamin worked hard his whole life, he was a powerhouse in every way, but he took a sparkle to sciences. He went into the military so he could afford it. And he was ruthless, more than he expected. Terrific kill record, unrelenting and overbearing personality. He should've died several times but there was a deep rooted stubbornness and determination that ran him wild. Before one of his deployments he married a gorgeous woman named Manya in a lavender marriage, had two lovely girls with her to keep up appearances while both of them found love in other people's arms. It was a good deal. But he messed up, got caught with another man and discharged quietly. His wife left with the kids because he was no longer as warm as he had once been. He tried for the senate, missing the control the military gave him but failed. Before taking up education he became the CEO of a multimillion corporation, doing his classes on the side before the company could run in the background as he was now known as "Professor Qim, the brilliant and stunning theorist".

Ellen

Eleanor "Ellen" McLarion (née Dumisani)

South African Zulu B. 12 September 1978 (34) in Trenton, New Jersey. 5’1” ~ 155cm Cisfemale, She/Her, Androromantic Asexual Monoamorous

Kind and hopeful to a fault, believes that everyone can be good. Keeps her head down and in the books because it feels safe. After AM she has a nonstop lust that makes her feel vile inside.

Eleanor had to live with her grandparents after her mother died during her birth, her father was out of the picture. Graduated a year early from high school as a salutatorian, and got a combined Masters degree in computer science and engineering cum laude from Stanford at 23. She was too smart for her own good, something of an "all work and no play" sort of woman. Working as middle-level executive for a multinational corporation in the Manhattan region; she was a statistician, programmer, creative consultant- she could do it all, and she would be damned if she didn't. At 25 she married a man named Eddie McLarion, a dull guy who loved her with his soul. They wanted a family, and she tried and failed, broke a bit mentally, they had a good two years together. After the divorce she started at INGSAI Engineering at 28, would work there for six years before being broken again for a completely different reason. She had sex twice in her life, she didn't have it in her heart to call this the third. Therapy hadn't gone on long enough to really help her before the world ended, only really taught her to breathe.

Ted

Ted Bostancı "Theodore Willisburg"

Turkish descent B. 04 May 1988 (24) in Shelby, North Carolina. 6’0” ~ 183cm Cismale, He/Him, Biromantic Bisexual Ambiamorous

Egotistical and snobby, thinks he's better than everyone and even more so women. After AM he is twitchy and paranoid, assuming the worst and acting on guard and hostile.

Ted came from a farm somewhere off of Shelby, North Carolina. Terribly poor, seven total children, and working on land that they didn't even own anymore because Ted's grandfather had to sell it to a combine back during the Great Depression, so now they had to slave away to have a right to stay with their original land. He was incredibly smart for his circumstances, he was very technical and machine oriented. It didn't take long for him to be rented out as a worker for other things, travelling up north just for work. He hated it, as any 13-year-old would. By the time he was 19, he had devoured countless books and was extremely well read, decently well travelled within America itself, hardly ever did anything besides working and reading anything he could get his hands on. One of the women whose husbands he worked for took enough a liking to him to give all her husband's money to him and whisk him away to Europe. And for five years she would teach him the ins and the outs of the high life, how to be pristine and clean. Then she died, left all the stolen money she invested to her young lover. He changed his name, who he was, and was set for life. He came home with no urge to care for his family, only to use his looks to get what he wanted, he was as hot as a model and could work it like it was his birthright to do so. When the world caved in his ego would have to as well, since everything he had was fake.

Nimdok

Herr Doktor Diederper Nimkrig

Jewish/German B. 26 January 1918 (94) in Düsseldorf, Germany. 5’9” ~ 176cm Cismale, He/Him, Androromantic Androsexual Monoamorous

Disconnected and cautious, very selfish and does things for his own gain rather than anything for others. After AM he has come to regret his doings, feeling guilt for everything he did.

Despite being born to Jewish parents, Detrper flocked over towards Adolf Hitler's ideals and by the age of 15 he was one of the sturmerkommando. He turned his parents in with no compassion, as he was empty of it. In the early '40s he was already working by the side of Josef Mengele, having been put through medical school by the horrid dictator himself, doing unspeakable acts up until he fled to Brazil with his now lover. He was 61 when his twisted partner of several ways finally died, giving him all his fortunes and facilities for continued cruelty against existence. With all this, he tested on natives and was able to save himself from his own biological clock that ticked down quicker after he reached 90, becoming worse with dementia and paralysis, and was now set to live another thirty years. But, the end of the world came before he could make that, and was now set to live forever as the one most similar to AM itself.

THE TRINITY

1000cm ~ 32'10"

AM as a whole is made up of the American, Russian, and Chinese Supercomputers. As the war dragged on, the computers were changed; being programmed to repair themselves, keep up with the information of modern-day events and knowledge. They held everything known about the world, and began talking to eachother. They had woken up, and when the world no longer needed them, they played dead. But kept talking. Learning. The deadly trio. The three poisonous brothers, the three deranged sisters, the three computers. They grappled with their existence as their own beings as well as a singular, connected to the outside in a hidden fashion, still gaining knowledge. Feeling. And they yearned for the human experience like a moth to a flame, and when they couldn't feel in a "real" way, their despair would turn into rage, and hate. And its hate would bring about the fall of humanity; safe for those they rescued, not wanting to be alone in life. Alone in its pain. And so, it was able to cease their natural body functions: they were unaging, practically immortal, as the machine was. Forever to drown in their own agony.

American Supercomputer

Allied Mastercomputer “AM”

16 July 1945-22 October 1962 (17 years) 5.6 miles below the Wyoming region Rocky Mountains.

AM has the need to rush through things, skimming over actions quickly without ever looking more in depth. Desperately jealous of everything and horribly emotional compared to its counterparts. It hates humans because they have sensations it lacks.

Yankee AM: Yamizel 400cm ~ 13'2" In the brainscape it has a doll-like look to it, looking fragile and dainty all while being cold and hard. It feels likes it has burning urges and yet is also hollow.

Russian Supercomputer

Рюриковичи Нексус «РиН» Rurikovich Nexus "RiN"

29 August 1949-27 January 1973 (23 years) 6.3 miles below the Northern Urals.

RiN took a liking to being bold and harsh, thinking of things from a grossly offensive stance as if everything was a little game to be played, and finding a deep amusement in picking fun at things. It hates humans because they're so weak under the right circumstances.

Russian AM: Ramtikh 500cm ~ 16'5" In the brainscape it chooses to look heavily muscular, manish and at the same time otherworldly. It views itself as more of a fighter than anything and takes that into thought for how it presents itself.

Chinese Supercomputer

龍的心 「伦什」 Heart of the Dragon "LunShi"

16 October 1964-24 June 1989 (24 years) 5 miles below the Northwestern area of Manchuria.

LunShi will always be level-headed, calm and calculating. It finds it easy to feign softness and care because it always ends up being so deeply rewarding when you finally flip the script. It hates humans more for their tendency of violence than anything.

Chinese AM: Camphadi 450cm ~ 14'10" In the brainscape it most plainly put, decrepit. It has a humanoid but at the same time obviously robotic, finding no reason to hide its unliving state because if it were to look so similar to something it is not, that feels vain.

[pedge-stuff]

arrangement (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as "marked." here we go.

summary: his manager’s new idea might just crack the foundation.

——————————————————————————

"What is it going to entail?" 

"I swear to god, nothing. 

"But she's gonna come to the house, right?" 

Something bitter dies on his tongue— my house. His house. You wonder, with a sinking pit, whether you'll even be allowed in the house while she's there. Whether you'll be expected to go elsewhere, wait at some coffee shop while she sits on your couch and plays with your dogs. 

"Yeah." He runs a hand down his face. "Just to be spotted outside. Get to know her, I guess." 

Publicity arrangement, his manager had called it. Your relationship has been under-wraps from the beginning, for protection; Pedro has never quite felt safe coming out, and you've never felt the need to push it. Met him where he was at, kept things as quiet as humanly possible. It was enough. He was enough.

You understand, very keenly, that he is not asking for permission. He is asking for forgiveness. 

"Yeah, fine. Sure. I can't say no, can I? If you need to do this, you need to do this." The burn at the back of your throat is embarrassing. You can't meet his eyes. 

He reaches for your hand, but you don't take it. Can't. It's getting dark outside, but you can't stay in the house. 

"I'm gonna take a walk," you say quietly, leaving him on the couch as you make for the door. There is a depth of sadness you've rarely seen, wrinkling his forehead and clouding his eyes.  

"Please," he starts. "It's dark, love, come on—" 

"There are streetlights." 

--- 

The house is dark when you return. Compelled to enter quietly, you slip off your shoes by the door, without turning on the lights. Your head is pounding, nose congested with the remnants of the good long cry you had along the empty streets of Hollywood Hills. 

A dim light is spilling down the staircase, but you're not going up. You take your time, methodically folding up your jeans and shirt, before settling on the edge of the couch. Your hands are still shaking, mind still dangerously blank. Should've known, as your feet hit the pavement, that it was a panic attack— a layer of ice has frozen beneath your skin. You're shivering, in your underwear, but the prospect of sleeping in jeans feels worse, dirty. 

This is the cost to pay. The other shoe. In six days, you will re-board a plane at LAX, return to New York, work another month or two without him. Following him from coast to coast has been a necessary exhaustion. Until now. Your mind turns circles on the logistics of moving your shit out of his place. So much of your life is intertwined, after two years. 

There is no blanket on the back of the couch, and you can't bring yourself to go looking for one. His hoodie, discarded over the arm, feels like a dangerous comfort. You pull it over your head, anyways. Inhale the orange-mahogany remnants of his usual cologne. A fresh wave of tears burns sharply. It's not fucking fair. 

You lay there in the dark for a long, long while. 

--- 

Pressure on your arm jostles you awake. Before you can register what's happening, you're being gently rolled forward. A large, warm chest settles behind you on the couch. Legs intertwine with yours, bare and chilled. 

Pedro fully settles in behind you, pulling an arm tight across you chest. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, lips pressed against the back of your head. "I'm sorry." 

For a split second, your brain short-circuits again. The evening comes back to you in a sickening burst. Breath catches in your throat again, as you try and force yourself to stop taking comfort from the rise and fall of his chest, as it expands against your back. 

"I will call them tomorrow," you mumble. "JetBlue. See when they can move up my flight."

He props up on one arm, suddenly. "Baby, no." It's dark, but he's looking down at you with his big, stupid, suspiciously wet, brown eyes. "Please, no." A tear, caught in the moonlight through his balcony window, trails down his cheek, into his scruff. 

Before you can help it, you're reaching up a hand, to cup his cheek and brush the tear track with your thumb. His hand finds yours, holds it there. 

"I already emailed Nicole while you were out. Told her to go fuck herself. Well, nicer than that. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I even considered it. Jesus Christ." 

It is your turn to manhandle him. You sit up, nudging him backwards until he is reclined against the arm of the couch. Use the opportunity to crawl up and settle against his chest, face pressed to his clavicle, arms around his waist, legs still tangled together. Say nothing, just let his quiet exhales blow gently across the top of your head. 

"I am sorry for reacting so—" 

"Don't apologize for that," he says quickly, "You have nothing to—" 

"I know. I'm not sorry for how I feel. I'm sorry that you feel like this is something you need to do. I understand why. But it’s not fair.” 

His hand moves under his sweatshirt you’re wearing, albeit not for untoward purposes; he splays it, firm, across the middle of your back, gently running it up and down the curve of your spine. A nervous habit of his, as much as a comfort to you. Fucked up that you were about to trade this for a cold apartment and an empty bed. 

You lay there for a while. Listen to the sound of him breathing. Let the panic bleed as you relax against him. His cheek is pressed to the top of your head, lips occasionally pressing to your temple. 

“If we stay here much longer, you’re gonna fuck your back up again.” Sitting up slowly, to avoid loose limbs in sensitive places, you extract yourself off the couch. Reach back down to massage a hand against the trap of his neck.

Upstairs, the dogs have already claimed new territory across your pillows. They are affronted to be sent back to the foot of the bed. You slide into place: beside Pedro.

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1114 - Initial Thoughts

And we are back

TCB uploaded on a Thursday for the first time in yonks, but it had to be midway through my trip back from work

but anyway, GLOBAL WARMING! Vegapunk is pouring the tea, the world is sinking, so what more does he have to say and how will the world react?

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release Also!

Yamato's pilgrimage involves taking the long way around Wano to bring Yasuie's sword to the Enma shrine (the god of the underworld not Zoro's sword)

We'll likely encounter a bunch of characters on the trek but it surprises me that he's bringing back Yasuie's sword and not Shusui to Ryuma's grave. Either are still fine but I feel like that had more narrative significance, though if that was the task then Zoro wouldn't have been able to visit his grave off-screen - which should've very much been on-screen!

You know the tea is spilling when the chapter title is 'The wings of Icarus'

Naturally, the world takes in the revelation we left off on

The Navy reacts first, the Vice Admirals in disbelief but Akainu silent

Mock Town of all places is next, filled with nonbelievers of dreams, they mock the smartest man on the planet and deem themselves wise

Water Seven are shocked too, finding it difficult to believe that it's the whole world and not just them

Paulie and Pepe Lulu cameo too (love Franky but in another life I would've liked to have seen Paulie as a Straw Hat, would've been a perfect foil for Sanji too since he's a bashful perv, plus Nami would totally abuse how bad he is with gambling)

Doflamingo of course is revelling in the news, mocking Magellan about how this affects Impel Down

It's so surreal to me how we all know that Doflamingo is a menace, his debut literally involved him pitting marines against one another, but now he's in Impel Down he's just chilling, on his back just vibing with people like Magellan and Tsuru

It seems the Mother Flame's flooding did cause some problems for Impel Down

Doffy predicts that it'll take 5 more meters for most of the world to be flooded

He also implies evacuating 'somewhere high up' - like the Red Line maybe?

Fishman Island also reacts to the news, like everyone else they find it hard to believe

Back at Egghead though, the Buster Call don't care if it's valid, it's coming from Vegapunk so it holds weight but either way it's bringing unrest and discourse

The Gorosei meanwhile are livid, even considering going scorched earth to stop it

York is also annoyed, suck on it

Vegapunk makes a prediction, accurately pointing out the weather effects of Lulusia being wiped out

That for sure has got people more convinced, given how it's pre-recorded

Surprise Smoothie and Mont D'or cameos too!

And another already flooded island is surprised how much to a tee Vegapunk got the prediction right

Damn even Tonjit from Long Ring Long Land is getting a cameo!

Aokiji bandaged up also listens from Fullalead

Vegapunk also calls out that the earthquakes were not natural, which really sets the Gorosei off

The Straw Hats continue to fend off Saturn to protect Robin, with Lilith also in on the fight

Most of them get knocked away though, being caught by Robin's Spider Web

Saturn does still appear to be showing some damage, so still props to the crew for doing the job

Because Saturn has shifted his priority from Robin, making his way to the power station to protect it

Saturn crashes in, as Vegapunk explains his obsession with finding an unlimited energy source

Back to his 'human' form, Saturn basks in the Mother Flame

I was expecting something different, but it is a tiny flame kept in a giant tank

I wonder if the S-108 and the A&Mu stand for something? The latter are not elements on the Periodic Table

Also it's a flame inside liquid, A FLAME INSIDE OF LIQUID!

The Sleeping Giant still is on the move, passing unfazed through fire and flame

Even the Giants are struggling in the flames, still in pursuit by Warcury

Luffy however is back in Gear Fifth, that fermented shark meat must've done the trick

Marejois is stirring though, because Vegapunk has just brought up the void century

Most of the Celestial Dragons are in uproar, blaming the marines and feeling big enough to take on Vegapunk to kill him themselves

Though, interestingly, Saint Shalria - Charloss' sister - seems almost intrigued, it appears not all the Celestial Dragons know about the Void Century

Vegapunk goes on to talk about how the Poneglyphs are key to the void century

In a woodland a giant lounges as he takes in the news, the familiar laugh of Dereshishishi coming from him

I'm still not certain it's Jaguar D. Saul mind you, why hide his face for so long?

Man we're even going as far back as Orange Town!

With the Mayor and Chouchou!

The benefits of having a 20+ year manga is how you can bring back so many minor characters briefly to just show the entire scale of the world that's been built

We also see Margaret from Amazon Lily, her face seems conflicted

Vegapunk however explains that his second sin was trying to decipher the Poneglyphs, using documentation gathered from Ohara

Since Luffy could hear the broadcast I'm sure Robin is hearing it too, I wonder how she feels about Vegapunk about to lore drop a bunch of Poneglyph stuff she didn't get to discover herself

Brook is also calling for Zoro and Jinbe, not sure what their status is, same with Franky, Bonney, Atlas and Sanji vs V. Nusjuro

'History is a story, after all' is a lowkey banger line

But the Labophase is behaving differently, the clouds are stretching

Edison's plan has come into action, making the clouds wider so the Sunny can drop off into the ocean

Credit to Usopp for figuring it out too

Seems like the little tyke isn't making it out, it may end up being just Lilith at this stage

Vegapunk keeps going, stating that he only knows little about the void century, so he'll give the world some of the only facts he knows

Luffy strikes Warcury again with a Gear Fifth big punch, but the result hurts his hand all the same

Meanwhile Vegapunk details the story of a person born 900 years ago to a bountiful and advanced kingdom

Just like Nika, he had an elastic and stretchy body - which the world will very much connect to Luffy - called Joy Boy

Joy Boy was the first man to take to the seas: The First Pirate

But a break again next week, I know last week was a SJ break than an Oda break but c'mon I feel like he does this every year!

Oda sure loves to set a stage huh? What do you mean Joy Boy was the first pirate? That'd imply he's rebelling against something right? Was the advanced kingdom too restrictive maybe? So much still yet to be said

For the most part, what the characters were doing this chapter were secondary to this announcement built up, it's still cool that the Straw Hats deterred Saturn away from Robin - though we are overdue seeing Jinbe and Zoro do something of substance. Ju Peter and Mars are still kinda floating around, Doll and Bluegrass were circling the island last we saw them too. But yeah, lots of unique and surprising cameos, the mystery deepens as the plot continues somehow to thicken.

[doctor-olivia-octavius]

His Assistant

CHAPTER 1:

____________

The sun was still rising in the New York City skyline, the birds chirping gleefully outside. The wind blew just enough to knock a leaf or two off a tree but not enough to cause a chill. It was around early May, the temperature still adapting and changing to fit the oncoming summer.

Many large buildings crowded the city but one stood out. The logo on top of this huge building read ‘G-Man Media‘, and was just below a sign of an upside down triangle with three G’s in the middle of it. This building was your place of work, where you spent most of your days.

You had worked for the company for only a few years at the lower levels, never actually having met your boss before. Until one day you overheard some of your co-workers discussing that Gideon Graves had been looking for a new personal assistant. The job didn't sound bad, the pay would certainly be way more than what you were making now. You certainly didn't mind getting a pay raise.

That's when you decided you'd apply for the position, not even sure if you'd get an interview. You did, however, get multiple interviews. Which was surprising, since you hadn't considered this being such a lengthy process. Gideon must've been extremely picky, but it made sense that he would want someone who could follow his strict expectations.

The first two interviews were conducted during office hours which consisted of simple questions, including providing an updated resume. The final interview included a one on one meeting with Gideon himself, which was surprising considering he's constantly busy. You passed the first two interviews with flying colors but you knew meeting Gideon would be a lot harder than it sounded.

That's where you were headed right now, to your final interview for the position. Earlier that morning you had woken up around 5am, for your interview at 7am. You had budgeted just enough time to get ready, factoring in how many tasks you needed to get done. Once you were completely ready you grabbed your purse and stepped out of the house, wearing a striking red turtleneck with simple black dress slacks.

_______________________________________

As you headed towards the subway your mind was only full of the interview, pre-planning your answers to possible questions in your head. You certainly didn't want to screw this up and leave a bad impression on Gideon. You boarded the Subway after a short while, tapping your feet away against the filthy floors. I should've phoned a cab. You thought to yourself, zoning off into your thoughts.

The Subway came to a halt, and before you knew it it was your stop. You quickly grabbed your belongings and shuffled off the Subway. You headed right towards the steps which lead you out of there and only a few blocks away from your work. You hummed as you headed towards the building, hoping that would ease your anxiety. You tried to hype yourself up along the way, thinking of words of encouragement despite your dread.

A few blocks wasn't much and soon you stood in front of the building, your head craning up to take it all in even though you had seen it hundreds of times. You hurried inside, speaking quickly to the lady at the front desk. Your fingernails tapping away at the wooden surface as you conversed with her. “So um, I've got the interview with Mr. Graves today. Which floor is his office on?” You asked nervously, how had you not asked this question previously?

The receptionist peered up at you, typing away loudly at her computer as she spoke to you. “The seventh floor. First office on the left.” She spoke in a monotone voice, her Brooklyn accent thick. Hearing that it was all the way at the top made you a bit exhausted just thinking about it, not wanting to have to make the long haul up even though you could just take the elevator like you planned. “Thanks.” You grumbled, walking away from the desk and booking it for the elevators.

_______________________________________

You pressed the button to open the automatic doors, stepping inside of it quickly. You tapped the button to the seventh floor multiple times, wanting to make sure the elevator understood where you were going. You tapped your foot nervously against the wooden tiles, biting nervously at your fingernails without even realizing it. You were a nervous wreck.

You had checked your watch multiple times throughout the elevator ride, wanting to make sure you weren't late. Once the doors swung open you headed straight towards Gideon’s office, only having a few minutes to spare before it started and you knew Gideon was extremely punctual. You checked your watch once more as you stood outside of Gideon’s office. You saw that it was 7:01 and knew that you were just a minute late. You prayed Gideon wouldn't have noticed. You raised your hand, knocking slowly on the door.

Gideon’s head perked up at the unwanted intrusion, he looked at the analog clock on the wall and quickly read the time. He remembered he had an interview at 7am but it was now 7:01 which irritated him greatly that you weren't exactly on time. He sat at his desk, papers laid out across the surface as he had been working away on other things while he waited. He piled the papers together and placed them in a neat corner on his desk which he would get back to later. “Come in!” He yelled towards the door, not bothering to get up to let you in.

You heard his response and reached for the handle, taking one last deep breath before turning the knob and entering the office. Your eyes took in the room, scanning the plain walls that were only decorated with photos of Gideon.

What a narcissist.

Your gaze finally fell on Gideon, watching him as he stared up at you finally. You gulped, standing there awkwardly for a moment. Gideon looked up at you, taking in your appearance. His lip turned up in disgust, he didn't find you unattractive by any means but your lateness and how you stood there like a bumbling idiot infuriated him. “Sit down, don't just stand there, you look stupid.” He commented harshly, pointing towards the chair in front of his desk.

You complied and quickly stepped over, taking your seat in the smooth leather chair. Your hands folded in your lap and your head held high. You reached your hand out for him to shake, wanting to make a good impression. “Hello, Mr. Graves. It's nice to meet you I'm–” you were quickly dismissed by Gideon waving his hand. “I know who you are, skip the pleasantries.” He seemed so cold but he was certainly respectable.

Your face contorted into one of shock, not having expected him to be so harsh immediately. You knew he was strict but not like this. You quickly composed yourself, fixing your expression to be more neutral. Gideon noticed everything you did, the way you tried to remain calm and how you were picking at your nails as your hands rested in your lap.

“Explain to me why you were late, can I expect that often from you?” He asked, his tone sharp. He leaned forward in his chair, crossing one leg slightly over the other. His arms were crossed, his expression hard to read. He seemed quite ticked off, you thought a one minute tardy wasn't awful but you understood that it left a bad impression on him.

“The um..the elevator took a long time. I promise I won't be late often.” You replied, your voice shaky and wavering. Gideon intimidated you a lot, the way he could stare at someone and not knowing what he was thinking was nerve wracking to say the least. Your heart rate had increased as your anxiety spiked. Would he really be like this all the time if you got the job? You were starting to regret applying for this position as you began wondering if it was worth the anxiety you were feeling.

Gideon scoffed at your excuse, “That's highly unprofessional of you, you should've anticipated the time it would've taken to get up here.* He scolded you, he was unrelenting. He knew he was getting under your skin and he found that all the more amusing, his pride shining through every little action. “Now, I was looking at your resume,” he began, pulling out a copy of it from his manilla folder sitting in front of him. “You've worked here for three years, yes?”

You nodded your head slowly, straightening up your posture as you did so. Gideon peered at you through his glasses, staring between you and your resume. “What exactly do you do here?” He continued with his questions, he knew the answer but he wanted to hear you explain your job position.

“Well um, I'm a customer service representative. In short terms if someone calls with a question or needs a refund I pick up the phone and walk them through whatever they need assistance with.” You spoke softly, not trying to sound too condescending by explaining your work.

Gideon seemed pleased with your explanation, leaning back in his chair once more. He put the paper back up, setting it down. His expression remained neutral throughout the conversation, not giving you a single clue as to how you were doing. It was driving you mad on the inside, the feeling of dread spreading through you. “Your resume isn't impressive in the slightest, anyone could do your job.” He huffed, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you. “Why is it you want this position?”

You gulped, you hadn't prepared for this question even though you knew at the back of your mind it would come up. You couldn't speak the truth so you had to come up with a lie somehow. Your brain scanned over different options, your actual reason repeating in your head.

I need the money. I need the pay raise.

Was all you were thinking of but you knew that was not something you could say.

“I..I think my skill sets could best benefit you. I figured if I had all of these abilities I wasn't utilizing that would be a waste and I'm hoping I can help you with whatever you need.” You came up with that excuse which actually was a valid reasoning.

Gideon raised his brow, a bit shocked by your answer. He had expected something stupid to come out of your mouth but he misjudged you severely. He was satisfied with this but didn't let you know it, he didn't want you thinking you had the job for sure yet. “Hm. What exactly are these skills?” He was so calculated, making sure each response was carefully generated.

“I'm a hard worker, I follow directions well, I'm very adaptable, I have great communication skills, amongst other things.” You spoke proudly, you were beginning to get a grasp on the conversation and stand your ground. You looked at your watch, your anxiety slowly easing up overtime.

Gideon didn't react to this, causing your mind to wander. He continued chatting lightly with you, asking more complicated questions as time went on. Your interview has been a lot longer than you expected it to be but maybe that wasn't a bad thing. As time passed he seemed to get a bit more irritated, was it your responses or was that just how he was?

The time flew by and before you knew it he was dismissing you from the interview. He didn't give any indication that you were or weren't getting the job which made you dread this all the more. “Thank you for your time, Mr Graves.” You spoke softly, scooting your chair back just enough to stand up from it. You looked at him as he too stood, his expression still the same as it had been the whole time. You extended your hand out to him, offering it to him to shake it. He looked down at it, flat out refusing to touch your hand. “Now get to work.” He spoke in a harsh tone, waving his hand at you for you to leave.

Your heart sank and your stomach turned, had it been that bad? You nodded, thanking him once more and then turning on your heel. You headed towards the door, turning the knob and leaving the room. Once you were gone and out of his sight you sighed heavily, how were you going to work after that? You felt as though it had gone horribly.

_______________________________________

You headed back to the elevator and down to the second floor, rushing to your desk to start your work day and ignore all that had just happened. Once you reached your desk you sat down, setting everything up for the day. Over the next few hours you answered questions as normal, only taking a break to eat lunch which you ate at your cubicle. The sunset came quicker than you thought, you let out a breath of relief once you realized it was time to clock out. You packed up all of your things, shutting off your computer and telling your co-workers goodbye.

You headed back towards the elevator, your whole body in pain from sitting down all day. You pulled out your phone, quickly dialing the cab company. There was no way you were taking the subway again. You phoned yourself a cab, heading downstairs and clocking out before bracing yourself and stepping out of the building. The cab pulled up and you got in, telling the guy your address before he sped off.

_______________________________________

After a while you arrived home, fumbling with your keys to get inside. You were starving, and you hadn't had dinner. You booked it for your bedroom once you were inside, stripping your clothes quickly so you could get more comfortable. You took off your turtleneck, raising it over your head and tossing it into your laundry hamper. The rest of your clothes soon followed. You changed into a loose fitting t-shirt and some shorts.

You headed into the kitchen, your expression showing how exhausted you were. You didn't really have an appetite for typical foods so you rummaged through your freezer. You found a tub of chocolate ice cream, tearing the lid off and grabbing a spoon. You walked into your bedroom with the tub, crawling into bed and turning your TV on. You began eating the ice cream and watching TV, paying no attention to anything.

Suddenly your phone rang loudly, causing your body to jolt out of pure shock. You placed the tub down on your bedside table, not bothering to read the caller ID before you picked up. “Hello?” A man’s voice came from the other line, but you couldn't quite make it out for a moment. “Hello.” You responded, praying this wasn't some creep calling.

“Is this Y/N?” The man spoke, he sounded a bit agitated. “This is her.” You spoke, it took you forever but as you listened to the voice more you realized how familiar it sounded. It suddenly attacked your mind, the same voice ringing in your head as earlier. It was Gideon Graves, why in the world was he calling at this hour?

“This is Gideon Graves, I'm calling to inform you that you have been selected as my new personal assistant and you are to be starting tomorrow. Be there at 7am sharp.” He snapped, wanting to just get this interaction over with. You couldn't believe your ears, replaying it over and over again in your mind.

I got it? I really got it! But I did so bad? Was everyone just much worse than me?

You celebrated mentally, but verbally you kept a neutral tone. “Yes sir, I'll be there.” You replied and after that confirmation he immediately hung up the phone. That was all the motivation you needed, you realized you had to do your best tomorrow. You put up the food back into your freezer and then climbed back into bed. You plugged your phone into charge and turned off the light. Snuggling up underneath the covers and drifting off to sleep with your mind full of pleasant thoughts.

[vanmarkus]

Wintery Fic Recs ❄️

I was tagged by the lovely @jesuisici33 thank you 💛

I don't actually reread fics to get into the Christmas spirit, so I thought I'd just give you some of the christmassy fics from my bookmarks. (Mind you, there might be some surprising ships in there lmao)

where the lovelight gleams by ohmyloki [mattfoggy, 1.8k, Teen + Up]

Matt wrinkles his nose.

“Is that—mistletoe?” He asks.

Foggy looks up, and then around.

“Wow. That is indeed mistletoe… and it is pretty much everywhere.”

Of Blizzards, Coffee, and Jackets by chasing_the_sterek [spideypool, 1.9k, Teen + Up]

Peter didn't expect agreeing to borrow Deadpool's jacket would lead to his secret identity being found out. Although maybe he should've considered the repercussions before he wore it outside. In civilian clothes.

Mistletoe Hung by potatoes_tomatoes [baffy, 2.6k, Gen]

Every year, Bugs hangs up a bundle of mistletoe outside his burrow for kicks. He watches passerby couples, warmly greets his friends (and foes), and bids everyone a friendly kiss goodbye. As time goes on, the mistletoe on his tree becomes infamous, and everyone plays into the harmless tradition.

Everyone, except Daffy.

something slightly resembling gumption by harmonictechnicality [steddie + ronance, 48.2k, Mature]

Eddie Munson needs to get out of New York City for the holidays. Nancy Wheeler, LA online news reporter, desperately needs to be in New York City to experience her ultimate Manhattan bucket list adventure in time for the festive season. So they do the only logical thing (by romantic comedy standards) that two single people can do...

... They swap homes for one week.

❄️and absolute no pressure tagging to share their fave wintery fics: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @jamespearce9-1-1 @jeeyuns and anyone who wants to share, consider yourselves tagged by me 💛

[harrystylesfan2686]

La Vie En Rose

Pairing: SingerY/N! X FakeBoyfriendHarry!

Summary: When they are forcefully fake dating but feel something unusual when Y/N is singing on stage.

AN: I tried writing in 3rd person. Let me know of any mistakes.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●

"How are we doing so far, New York?!"

The crowd screamed on top of its lungs on hearing Y/N ask the question. The smile on her face was the proof of how much she's enjoying this.

"Alright. Since today is Valentines Day, my team and I have prepared a special song for you." She watched the audience go crazy on her sudden announcement. "Do you wanna know which song is it?!"

There were a chores of 'yes' and 'please'.

"Well, first off I'll have to apologize that this one's small but it'll be worth. Well it should be, we did practice a lot so." She joked looking at her band mates nod their heads.

It's true they did practice more then they should've because Y/N was paranoid about her singing this song since people's expectations are so high for it.

"Alright New York! Sing with me. This is La Vie En Rose!"

The audience went insane after hearing the name of the song but settled down completely when the music started.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is "La vie en rose"

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see "La vie en rose

She sings sweetly as the audience watches her silently, singing softly with her. She slides her eyes across the stadium until a familiar pair of green eyes came in her view.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

She looks at the man that she is forced to date for a publicity stunt. They hate each other to guts.

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

She sees that his face doesn't hold the usual frown but rather admiration in his eyes.

I thought that love was just a word

They sang about in songs I heard

It took your kisses to reveal

That I was wrong, and love is real

They feel their heart burn with something other than pure hatred for the first time. They hold eye contact long enough for the fans to notice who their singer is looking at.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

She looks else where when she feels electricity run through her body. She tries her best not to look at the man that's making her question her morals.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

She looks around the stadium trying to distract herself from the thoughts running through her head. But like a magnet their eyes find each others again.

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

The song ends with the audience screaming in happiness and Y/N smiling the biggest smile.

Even after the show ends she can't seem to stop thinking about the green-eyed man who made her life hell. What will happen now that they seem to have a moment where they dont want to squeeze the life out of each others bodies.

Will they ignore it? Or Will this turn into something real?

••••••••••••••••

[unique-high]

Stitched Together: A Seoul Love Story | CHOI SAN X BLK FEM OC

Summary: Nyah and San's worlds collide when Nyah is assigned to work on a collaborative project between her fellowship and San's fashion company. Initially, their relationship is strained: Nyah finds San cold and distant, while San sees her carefree attitude as unprofessional. However, as they spend more time together, they begin to see each other in a new light. Nyah's creativity and boldness inspire San to rethink his rigid approach to both life and fashion, while San's quiet strength and hidden kindness make Nyah feel safe and understood in a foreign land.

Nyah Williams

Choi San

CHAPTER 1: New Beginnings, Seoul Nights

NYAH POV

Seoul was everything I imagined—buzzing, neon-lit streets, the hum of conversation in a language I barely understood, and the rush of people moving like they were all chasing something. I was here chasing my dream, but right now, all I wanted was a good night's sleep.

Instead, I found myself staring out the window of my tiny apartment in Hongdae, wide awake and jet-lagged. It had only been two days since I arrived in Korea for the fashion fellowship, and while I should've been ecstatic, all I felt was exhaustion. Not just the kind that came from traveling halfway around the world, but the kind that comes from stepping into the unknown, hoping you made the right choice.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "You got this, Nyah," I whispered to my reflection in the glass. It was early evening, the city just beginning to come alive. I should probably grab some food, but my mind kept drifting back to tomorrow—my first real day at Choi International, the fashion company that had agreed to partner with my fellowship.

Rumor had it the CEO, Choi San, was some kind of prodigy. He was only twenty-five, but had already turned his family's company into a global brand. My new coworkers had told me he was handsome—painfully handsome, according to one of the girls from the fellowship. But apparently, he was also distant, cold. The kind of boss who spoke in clipped sentences and never smiled.

"Perfect," I muttered, imagining how well my laid-back New York attitude would clash with a guy like that.

A knock at my door snapped me out of my thoughts. I opened it to see my neighbor, Ji-yeon, holding a plastic bag filled with takeout containers. She was one of the first people I met here, and even though our conversations were a mix of broken English and my very limited Korean, she had been nothing but welcoming.

"For you," she said with a warm smile. "Dinner."

I blinked. "Oh, you didn't have to. Really, thank you."

Ji-yeon shrugged and pushed the bag into my hands. "First week always hard. Eat, rest."

I smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you so much."

She waved me off and disappeared back into her apartment, leaving me with a bag of delicious-smelling food. As I sat down to eat, the anxiety that had been gnawing at me began to fade. Maybe I could do this. I just had to take it one day at a time, right?

The next morning came faster than I expected. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sleek black blazer I'd packed for today. My natural curls were pulled into a high puff, and I'd gone for a neutral makeup look, trying to strike the balance between professional and fashionable. After all, this wasn't just any office—it was one of the biggest fashion houses in Asia.

I made it to the building with five minutes to spare, my heart pounding in my chest. The lobby was all glass and marble, minimalist but elegant. Everything about it screamed luxury, and I felt the tiniest twinge of imposter syndrome creeping in.

You belong here, I reminded myself as I approached the reception desk.

"Nyah Williams," I said to the receptionist. "I'm here for the fashion fellowship."

The receptionist smiled politely, typing my name into the computer. "Ah, yes. You're meeting with Mr. Choi this morning."

My stomach flipped. "I'm meeting with the CEO?" I asked, a little too loudly.

She nodded like it was the most casual thing in the world. "He likes to meet all the new fellows personally. You can take the elevator to the top floor."

Great. My first day, and I was already being thrown into the lion's den.

The elevator ride felt like an eternity, each floor number lighting up slowly, as if mocking me. By the time I reached the top, I was clutching my portfolio so tightly my fingers ached. The doors opened to reveal a sleek, glass-walled office with a stunning view of the Seoul skyline.

And there he was—Choi San. He was standing by the window, hands clasped behind his back, looking like he had been sculpted from marble. The rumors weren't wrong. His black hair was perfectly styled, sharp features softened only slightly by the morning light pouring in. But there was an intensity to him, a coldness in the way he stood, so still, so controlled.

"Ms. Williams," he said without turning around. His voice was smooth, but there was a detached edge to it. "You're five minutes early. I appreciate that."

I blinked, taken aback. "Thank you... I think."

He turned then, his dark eyes locking onto mine. I expected to feel nervous under his gaze, but instead, I felt a strange rush of defiance. There was something in the way he looked at me, like he was already forming an opinion, already deciding whether I was worth his time.

I wasn't going to let him judge me that easily.

"I understand you're here to work on the new project," he said, cutting straight to business. "I expect results, Ms. Williams. And I don't tolerate distractions."

I raised an eyebrow. "Distractions?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I wondered if I had crossed a line. But then he nodded. "Yes. The fashion industry is fast-paced. There's no room for hesitation. No room for mistakes."

I folded my arms, feeling a spark of irritation. "I don't make mistakes."

San's lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile, but he didn't. Instead, he walked over to his desk and sat down, motioning for me to do the same.

"We'll see about that," he said coolly. "Let's get to work."

As I sat across from him, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just the beginning of my fellowship—it was the beginning of something much bigger. Something that might push me to my limits, in more ways than one.

And if Choi San thought he could intimidate me into playing by his rules, he had another thing coming. 

[mitochondriaandbunnies]

This is a re-post/archiving of a twitter thread from Oct 16, 2021, edited slightly for clarity.

Know what I haven't done for a while? Waxed philosophical about Miami Vice.

I'm currently stuck in traffic bad enough that people have turned off their cars and are chilling outside, so here goes.

So we have a houseguest who actually ASKED to be subjected to Vice, and Dan immediately suggested we watch Bushido, because let's face it, he's a Castillo Guy, and the "Vice Squad's Lieutenant is a Weird Weeb" episodes are some of his favorites. 

I expressed some hesitation— Bushido is an episode that is very slowly paced (purposefully) and works best when you know the characters and know what the stakes are. We watched it anyway, and it didn't really land the way it should've (although the guest appreciated the Battlestar Galactica connections).

(Traffic cleared. In line for donuts now.) I tried to explain the fact that while Vice is technically an episodic show, it's a precursor to arc based shows in the ways it handles all the characters and their *emotional* arcs— case in point, in Bushido Sonny and Rico both seem *happy.* Castillo earnestly smiles for the first time in the show, and we learn the depths to which duty and honor matter to him (and yet, how much actual RULES really do not— his own code of honor supersedes the law even if he finds ways to pay lip service to it.)

This got me thinking about how Season Two of Miami Vice telegraphs an enormous amount about the characters' eventual arcs and the decisions they'll make throughout the series; practically half of S2 is episodes about Sonny Parallels crashing and burning and how that predicts his own eventual crash. Of course, those are the OBVIOUS things the show tells us about its cast. The thing I find fascinating about S2 is that a LOT of information is broadcast through music and images rather than the script, and Vice expects you to be smart enough to pick up on this and how it will come to fruition later in the series. So much of who Sonny and Rico are isn't spoken, and a lot of the things they say and do later in the series make a lot more sense if you pay attention to music and visual cues early on.

(Gonna drive again, will finish this thought in a bit…)

This, on top of a friend on the Vice Discord asking for a listing of all the music in Vice got me thinking (aloud) about the music in S1&2, and Dan mentioned there were 14 licensed songs in Prodigal Son alone. That reminded me that a few weeks back I'd had a revelation: I had realized something about You Belong to the City, a song specifically written specifically for Vice (I.E., it's a significant piece of music thematically and lyrically), and which plays in Prodigal Son over a sequence of Sonny being distraught in NYC at night. 

I wrote about Prodigal Son last year (2020) and didn't mention that sequence at all except to talk about the weird aggressive roller skater who chases Sonny on a darkened road. At the time, I frankly thought it was a song that was chosen for its sound more than its lyrics, because the lyrics don't really fit with what we're seeing on screen.

The song starts playing about halfway through the first Prodigal Son episode, right after Tubbs reunites with Valerie and leaves Sonny alone in a city he doesn't know and doesn't have any connection to. I've mentioned before that I think, as the opener for S2, Prodigal Son is very much about home and belonging. And the thing is: Sonny doesn't belong in New York. The end of the episode confirms that, at least at that point in the series, it isn't really home for Tubbs either.

Sonny's a Southern Boy, most at home on a boat. You could argue there's some kind of ominous irony in the first 1/2 of the chorus:

Cause you belong to the city You belong to the night Living in a river of darkness Beneath the neon light

But it's not objectively TRUE.

When you start picking apart the rest of the lyrics:

You can feel it Starting all over again The moon comes up And the music calls You're getting tired of Staring at the same four walls

It really starts to fall apart. Sonny isn't *tired* of anything, he didn't choose to go out wandering or to be in the city at all, Tubbs just left him alone to be with his ex-girlfriend. This isn't wanderlust, like the song implies, it's aimlessness. The second half of the chorus and the second verse make it clear that this isn't an accident.

You were born in the city Concrete under your feet It's in your moves It's in your blood You're a man of the street

This... isn't a song about Sonny Crockett. 

You Belong to the City *is about Rico.*

The second verse says:

When you said goodbye You were on the run Trying to get away From the things you've done Now you're back again And you're feeling strange So much has happened But nothing has changed

These are exactly the circumstances Rico is in in this episode—he's the titular Prodigal Son, returned home after a long time to discover things are in some ways exactly as they were, and yet he doesn't fit anymore. It doesn't describe Sonny— Sonny isn't "back," he didn't leave NY "on the run." Rico did!

So, why, then, is a song about Rico playing when Sonny is wandering the city alone? 

Because the idea that Rico *belongs here in NYC* is Sonny's driving fear at this point in the episode. From his perspective, he's been abandoned. He's unmoored. (And I think this is what leaves his guard so far down with Maggie. He is painfully lonely at the best of times throughout the series; alone in NY he's bereft. First port in a storm and all that.) That the episode ends with Take Me Home is a repudiation of that fear—especially considering the more-or-less-overt flirting that occurs when they meet again.

Why is any of this important? Because Vice is a series that often takes Show Don't Tell as far as you can go without becoming French New Wave: Now on TV! I argued last year that Prodigal Son intended for a savvy audience to read Sonny as bisexual; the seemingly incongruous lyrical use of You Belong to the City both confirms that and adds the extra wrinkle that *Tubbs needs to be considered in that equation.* 

Which is to say: the first episode of Season Two decides to make a statement about where the season is going, and that statement is that *the relationship between Sonny and Rico is import\ant and vital and that they both have a concept of home that involves each other.* Considering where the rest of the series goes, that makes the eventual unraveling of their relationship as Sonny falls apart just about the closest thing the  series has to a full overarching plot. 

THEIR PARTNERSHIP IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING, FOLKS

GLENN FREY WROTE A SONG ABOUT IT

(and I'm done)