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fatecantstopme · 4 months

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Late Night Brilliance

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Summary: Barba shows up at your house unexpectedly one evening to go over a case. What began as an honest need to work through some inconsistencies, turned into a battle to maintain professionalism and composure.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), oral (M receiving), mentions of F receiving oral, fingering, light dom/sub vibes (Rafi is totally a dom).

A/N: Spanish Translations:

Querida/Cariño/Nena: Terms of endearment (darling/sweetheart/baby)

Meirda: shit

Por favor: please

The rest will be in brackets and italics after the sentence.

You were in the middle of eating your Chinese takeout when you were disturbed by a knock at your door. You weren't expecting any company and had been taking full advantage of a quiet Friday night in.

You sighed quietly as you pulled yourself off the sofa and went to answer the door. A shiver of surprise ran down your spine as you peered through the peephole. You groaned inwardly, glancing down at your rather disheveled appearance. You'd thrown on an old baggy t-shirt and leggings when you'd gotten home from work, but one look at the man standing on the other side of your door filled you with regret.

You pushed down any feelings of dread--and butterflies--as you opened the door and greeted your visitor with a warm smile. "Rafael Barba. What brings you by at 6:30pm on a Friday?"

Your tone was light and teasing, despite the unease you felt internally. He gave you his signature half-smirk, eyes quickly scanning you from head to toe, making you feel even more self-conscious.

He was wearing a beautiful three piece navy pinstripe suit with a lovely pink tie. You had no doubt he had matching suspenders under that damn vest...you hated how good he looked even after a long day of work.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said in a tone that indicated he knew damn well he wasn't interrupting anything. "I was hoping to talk to you about the Milligan case."

"Nothing better to do on a Friday night, Counselor?"

He chuckled. "My options were to spend the evening in my office, at home alone, or come spend it with a beautiful woman. I chose the latter."

You were more than a little surprised by his words, though you did your best not to show it. The two of you were known to flirt occasionally, but neither had dared to cross the line. A relationship between the two of you was out of the question, not that he was even interested in pursuing one with you. After all, he was married to his work and you were quite far from his type...you'd seen Yelina.

"Lucky for you, I also have no life outside of my job," you teased. "Come on in and make yourself at home. I've got Chinese food if you're hungry and I just opened a bottle of Merlot."

Rafael followed you in, shedding his suit jacket and draping it across the back of a dining chair. He began to roll up the sleeves of his white button down and you felt a stirring in your abdomen. "Chinese sounds amazing, but I can't say I'm a fan of Merlot."

It took you a moment to register the words he'd spoken as you were too preoccupied with not revealing how incredibly sexy you thought he looked in that moment. "I, uh--I think I have some bourbon if you're interested."

You practically bolted to the kitchen to look in the cabinet where you kept the liquor. You desperately needed to be as far away from him as possible before your face gave away the thoughts in your head.

"Bourbon sounds good."

Your eyes scanned the cabinet, locating the half-empty bottle at the back of the shelf. "Two fingers or three?"

"Three," he answered, voice much closer than it had been moments before.

You turned around to see Rafael leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled into your head at the sight and you let out an audible sound you hoped could be interpreted as surprise.

You poured the drink in silence, before handing it to him and gesturing for him to follow you to the living room. "We can eat at the table if you prefer..." you trailed off.

"Not necessary. The couch looks perfectly comfortable."

He sat down on one end of the couch and you sat on the other, as far away as you could possibly get without sitting on the arm. He raised an eyebrow at you, but didn't comment on the awkward distance you'd managed to put between you.

"So you--um--you wanted to talk about Milligan?" you asked.

"Not exactly. I wanted to talk about the victim, Shelly."

"What about her?"

"Something about her story isn't sitting right with me."

"Okay..."

"I want you to go over it with me again. Maybe give me a fresh set of eyes and a different perspective?"

"I'm not sure how much help I can be, Barba. I was in the room when she disclosed--that's not exactly a fresh set of eyes."

"Perhaps, but you are a psychologist. You see things very differently from the rest of us."

You sighed. "Alright, I'll bite. Where do you wanna start?"

As the two of you began to discuss the case and the inconsistencies in the victim's story, your discomfort started to evaporate. This is what you were passionate about--what you were best at. Everything else simply faded away and Rafael became just a colleague, not a man you were hopelessly romantically interested in.

Two hours passed, but it felt like no time at all. Your coffee table was littered with files and papers, and both you and Rafael were leaning over it, examining pieces of evidence. He was mere inches from you, but you were so absorbed in what you were doing that you hardly noticed.

"Cariño, can you pass me that witness statement?" Rafael asked.

You grabbed the paper he was referring to and handed it to him, eyes still scanning the page in front of you. The term of endearment didn't even register in your mind, nor did he seem to realize he'd even said it aloud.

After a few moments, Rafael asked you another question. "Do you have the surveillance photos from the bar?"

You pushed a few folders out of the way, digging the file with the photos out from the bottom of the stack. "What are you looking for?"

"Her outfit."

"Why?"

He didn't answer as he flipped through the photos, finally landing on the one he had been looking for. "Look at this."

He handed you the photo, which you'd seen before. "Yeah that's Shelly leaving the bar before the assault."

"Right. Notice her outfit?"

You glanced at the photo again. "Typical night out attire. Why is this important?"

He handed you the statement he'd been reading earlier. "She came directly to the precinct after her assault to disclose, right? Nowhere in her initial statement does she say she ever changed clothes."

You'd been there the night in question, had sat beside Olivia as she took Shelly's statement. "She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt," you stated.

"So why didn't she tell us she went home first?"

"She might have been worried we would judge her or blame her for the assault because she wasn't dressed like a nun."

"Yeah, I suppose that's possible."

He looked a little crestfallen, like you'd rained on his parade. He knew in his gut Shelly wasn't telling the whole story, but he couldn't prove it. He needed a single thread...just one thread to pull on. He needed to know now before the trial began and the defense unraveled the entire case.

A thought dawned on you. "No semen, no body fluids," you mumbled as you searched the coffee table for the rape kit report from the hospital.

Rafael watched you, unsure of what you were thinking.

"Ahh!" You grabbed the report and flipped through it. "There was evidence of trauma to her vagina and several bruises on her body, but there were zero traces of any DNA that wasn't hers."

"Okay, but that's not uncommon."

"Perhaps if she'd waited to report, I would agree, but I think there's an alternative reason."

He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to continue.

"She went home and showered."

Realization dawned on his face. "Didn't you or Olivia ask that question?"

"Of course we did, but I think she was scared to tell us, scared of what we'd say."

"We need to reinterview her."

You nodded.

Rafael pulled out his phone and called Olivia. He relayed what you'd discovered and asked her to reinterview Shelly the following day. Olivia agreed and thanked him for letting her know.

"You're brilliant, you know that?" he said as he hung up, vivid green eyes locked on your face.

"Minor detective work, at best," you said with a shrug. "I've been doing this long enough that I should be able to put pieces of a puzzle together. Besides, as you rightfully mentioned, it's my job to study and understand human behavior."

He smiled. "Even still, it was good work."

"You found the pieces, I just put them together."

"Take the compliment, (Y/N). You know I give them so rarely."

You laughed. "Alright, alright. Thank you, Rafael."

His expression shifted slightly, gaze darkening as he looked at you. "I don't think you've ever called me by my first name before." Even his voice was lower, huskier.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks. "I--uh, I'm sorry."

He reached out and grabbed your hand. "Please don't apologize. I liked hearing it...very much."

Heat began to spread through your entire body, coloring more than just your cheeks. You were unsure how to respond--the unfamiliar territory both daunting and exciting.

Rafael mistook your silence for discomfort, immediately removing his hand from yours and looking incredibly uncomfortable. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Everything in you wanted to reach out and touch him, reassure him that his words--and his touch--were welcome, but you knew that would be crossing a line you couldn't uncross.

"No worries," you mumbled.

The awkward silence stretched on for a few moments, during which time you were silently kicking yourself for making things weird.

"Well, umm, thank you for your help tonight. I-I guess I should be going," Rafael muttered lowly.

He started to get up and gather the papers strewn about the coffee table. You knew you should help him, but you didn't move--frozen in place with indecision. He couldn't see the war raging inside you, couldn't hear the thoughts screaming in your head.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally forced out two words, "Don't go."

Rafael paused, holding a few papers in one hand and a folder in the other. "Pardon?"

You swallowed thickly, rising to your feet. "Please stay."

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "It's getting late," he said softly. "Are you sure you want me to stay?"

You nodded.

He slowly set the papers back down and came to the other side of the coffee table, positioning himself directly in front of you. He reached out, tentatively placing his warm palm against your cheek. You leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"I need to hear you say it, querida," he murmured.

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes met his, a surge of confidence making your words clearer. "I want you to stay, Rafael."

His lips parted slightly, partially in surprise and partially in arousal. He stepped closer to you, closing the gap between you. His lips ghosted over yours before finally pressing gently against them, pulling you into a soft kiss.

You wanted nothing more than to lean into his kiss, to feel his hands on your body--you wanted to know what it was like to be worshipped by him, to make love to him.

But the rational part of your brain--the part that kept you on the straight and narrow your entire life--had managed to rear its ugly head. You couldn't drown out the voice in your head screaming at you that this was wrong--that you couldn't do this with him...he was your coworker, for god's sake.

You suddenly pulled away from him, voice coming out in a rushed whisper, "We can't."

While he was disheartened at the sound of your words, he wasn't really surprised. It wasn't forbidden--technically--but that didn't make it easy, or even right. "I won't force you, cariño."

His soft, comforting words made you want him even more. You sighed quietly and leaned your forehead against his. "We shouldn't," you whispered so softly he almost missed it.

His hands had settled on your hips and he began to rub soothing circles into your sides. "Can't or shouldn't?" he asked lowly.

Your trembling hand pressed firmly against his chest in a way that made him feel like you were pulling him closer, not pushing him away. "Please," you begged softly, neither of you sure of exactly what you were asking for.

Rafael's left hand slid lower on your hip, the tips of his long fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your bottom. His right hand pulled you closer to him, holding you flush against his body. "Tell me you don't want me--don't want this," he pleaded, voice husky with desire.

Your lips trembled against his mouth, body responding to his like it was made for him. "I can't..."

His left hand moved to grab you more fully, eliciting a soft moan of need from your lips. "Querida...tell me to stop."

"Please don't stop," you whimpered. "I need you--por favor, Rafi."

"Mierda," he growled, pulling you somehow even closer to him. His lips crashed into yours with a hunger you couldn't describe--a hunger you returned in kind.

The next several moments were a flurry of hands all but tearing at each other's clothes, desperate to feel skin to skin contact. In what had to be a record pace, the two of you found yourselves standing in nothing but underwear in the middle of your living room.

Rafael grabbed you tightly and tugged you down with him as he fell into a sitting position on the couch. You straddled his strong thighs, lips still hungrily devouring his.

He groaned lowly as your pelvis ground against his erection, the intense need for friction almost painful. His soft hands ghosted up your back, unclasping your bra with practiced ease.

You pulled away from him just long enough to send your bra flying across the room. Rafael licked his lips in anticipation before leaning forward to capture your nipple between his soft lips.

You sighed softly, fingers twining through his hair in order to hold him tightly against you. He used one hand to massage your other breast before switching to ensure both received equal treatment.

"Rafi," you whimpered as the need to feel him inside of you continued to grow.

"Si, hermosa?" he murmured.

You ground down against his erection again, silently telling him what you needed.

His hands immediately went to your hips, halting your movements. "I need you to tell me what you want, querida."

"You," you begged.

He smirked. "Puedes hacerlo mejor. Usa tus palabras." [You can do better. Use your words.]

If you were being honest with yourself, your Spanish was not nearly as good as it had been when you were younger...after all, you hadn't really spoken much Spanish since high school. Working with Nick Amaro, and now Rafael, had forced you to revisit your knowledge of the language in an attempt to brush up. Thankfully, you understood a hell of a lot more than you spoke, so you were able to piece together what he was telling you to do.

"I want you, Rafael, please."

"I'm right here, hermosa."

You glared at him, which earned you a patented smirk in response.

"Si quieres algo solo tienes que preguntar," he murmured softly. [If you want something, you just have to ask.]

You bit your lip. You weren't a shy person, but you had never been very vocal during sex in the past. Your partners didn't often ask you what you actually wanted, so you weren't even sure how to respond to him.

"I want you to touch me."

"Donde?" [Where?]

You realized he wasn't going to let you get away with not being explicit, but you couldn't quite bring yourself to say the words out loud. Instead, you grabbed his right hand and guided it between your legs, placing it firmly against your extremely damp panties. "Here."

Rafael smiled wolfishly. "Now was that so hard?" His voice was teasing, but there was a heat in his eyes that betrayed exactly how turned on he was.

He didn't give you a chance to respond as he pulled your underwear aside and slipped his fingers between your dripping folds. You gasped softly, hands gripping onto his shoulders for support.

"Is this what you needed, cariño?" His fingers gently toyed with your clit, providing some stimulation, but not exactly what you needed.

"More, Rafi, por favor," you begged.

In response, Rafael slipped two fingers inside of you, twisting his hand to form a come hither motion as he sought your sweet spot. His thumb provided the pressure against your clit that you so desperately needed and you moaned loudly as his fingers found your g-spot.

"There we go, nena. Te tengo." [I've got you.]

You clung to his shoulders as his expert fingers worked you closer and closer to the edge. You were almost surprised by the ease with which you felt your orgasm approaching--you couldn't remember the last time you'd cum from nothing more than a man's hands.

Rafael slid a third finger inside of you and began to add more pressure to his movements on your clit. The stimulation was exactly what you needed and you knew your orgasm was close. You were hesitant to tell him, but you also didn't want him to stop. "Rafi, I'm so close--please don't stop."

"I won't," he murmured, changing nothing about his current movements. "Quiero sentirte venir." [I want to feel you come.]

Your breathing was labored and your legs had begun to shake--a surefire sign of your impending orgasm. He could feel your walls squeezing his fingers and he couldn't wait to feel the sensation around his cock.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as your orgasm rushed over you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Rafael slowed his motions, but didn't stop until you began to whimper and squirm away from him.

He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of enjoyment. "Tastes so good, nena. Can't wait to taste you properly."

Your eyes widened slightly, having found the action extremely arousing. Your gaze then traveled down his body, landing on his still clothed cock. Your eyes flicked back up to his, your expression practically begging him to fuck you properly.

"Hay algo que quieras?" [Is there something you want?] he asked with a smile.

"I'd really like you to lose the boxers."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, enjoying your demanding tone more than he'd expected. "Stand up for me, querida."

You did as he asked, albeit slowly.

He lifted his hips and slowly tugged his boxers down, finally freeing his painfully hard cock. Your eyes widened slightly, gaze appreciative of his member. He was both thick and long, and the head was leaking enough precum to give you the strong urge to taste it.

Your eyes never left his cock as you tugged your own panties off, wanting to be just as deliciously naked as he was. You started to drop to your knees, but Rafael reached out and grabbed your arm.

"What are you doing, nena?"

"I wanna taste you," you answered softly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, swearing softly in Spanish under his breath. "As much as I would love to feel your pretty little mouth on my cock, I don't think I can take it."

You felt incredibly disappointed and your expression must have shown it because his gaze took on a slightly pitying look.

"Just a taste?" you pleaded.

He couldn't deny he wanted it as badly as you did--probably more so, but what really pushed him over the edge was the sound of your soft voice begging him. He didn't wanna say no to you--ever.

He released your arm with a soft sigh. "Está bien--just a taste." [Alright.]

You grinned, feeling pleased at having won. You dropped to your knees and gripped his cock in your warm hand, gently stroking him before leaning forward to lick the precum from the tip. Rafael groaned at the feeling, followed by a string of Spanish curses as you took his cock in your mouth.

The sensations you were providing him had him making more noise than you'd ever imagined. His fingers fisted into your hair and his hips jerked as you pleasured him--a feeling of pride settling into you as you listened to his moans. You felt powerful, having made the great Rafael Barba turn to putty in your hands.

His grip in your hair tightened and he pulled you off his cock much sooner than you would have liked--a groan of displeasure leaving your lips in protest.

"Get up here," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was the same tone he used in court when he was tearing someone apart on the stand.

You immediately did as he asked, once again straddling his thighs, but this time, you awaited further instructions. Everything about his demeanor oozed dominance and you were more than happy to slip into a submissive role for him.

He gripped his cock and slid the head between your folds, sending sharp bolts of pleasure through both of you.

"Dime que me quieres," he demanded. [Tell me you want me.]

"I want you, Rafael," you answered instantly.

He smiled at your clear willingness to obey. "Dime que me necesitas." [Tell me you need me.]

"I need you."

He leaned forward so his lips were inches from your ear. "Vas a gritar mi nombre?" [Are you gonna scream my name?]

"Si, Rafi! Please!" you begged. "Te necesito dentro de mi." [I need you inside of me.]

He rolled his hips up slightly, pushing the head of his cock into you. He held you tightly in place, not allowing you to move lower.

"More, please!" you cried, desperately trying to lower yourself onto him fully.

"Rogar por esto, nena. Dejame escucharte." [Beg for it, baby. Let me hear you.]

"Please, Rafi, please," you pleaded. "I'll do anything--please. Please just fuck me!"

His grip on your hips lessened just as he rolled his hips upwards, allowing him to plunge into you as you pressed yourself down on him. The tip of his cock brushed against your cervix, sending a jolt of pain through you, but pain quickly turned to pleasure as he began to move.

"You feel so good, querida. So tight and warm--made for me, weren't you?" Rafael murmured into your skin as he slowly rolled his hips.

You whimpered slightly, the slow pace not enough to soothe the burning ache within you.

He noticed the way you shifted, clearly seeking more friction, so he loosened his grip on you, allowing you more freedom. You gripped onto his shoulders, using them as additional leverage as you began to ride him properly.

Salacious sounds filled the room, a mixture of your bodies joining together and your shared moans and whimpers. Rafael's mouth nipped and sucked at your pulse point, your collarbone, and your lips--anything he could reach.

The position was enjoyable, but Rafael sensed you needed more--and he felt the need to take over. He pulled you in close to him, holding you tightly as he stood, flipping you onto your back on the couch.

You gasped in surprise, delighted at the change in position. Rafael immediately took charge, bending your legs towards your chest and thrusting into you hard and fast.

"I need to feel you cum, hermosa. Dime que necesitas." [Tell me what you need.]

You were a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him, and your brain was struggling to make sense of the words he was saying. It took you a moment to understand, but even then you couldn't find the words. Instead, you slipped your hand between your bodies and began to rub your clit.

Rafael pushed your hand out of the way, replacing it with his own. He'd be damned if he wasn't the one who made you fall apart. "Vendrás por mi?" [You gonna come for me?]

"Rafi!" you cried out--the only coherent thing you'd said in minutes.

Your pussy clenched down on his cock, squeezing him so tightly he nearly came on the spot. He continued to fuck you exactly as he had been, fingers still pulsing against your clit.

Moments later, you came with a loud cry of his name, wave after wave of intense pleasure crashing down on you as he rode you through the orgasm.

He removed his hand from your clit, using it instead to grip the back of the sofa, his other hand supporting his weight on the arm. He chased his own high, finding it a few seconds after you. He groaned your name as his hot seed filled you up, hips still pumping for a few moments before he collapsed on top of you.

You wrapped your arms around him as he came down, aftershocks wracking both of your bodies.

Once you'd both caught your breath, Rafael lifted his head to look at you. He smiled as he took in your fucked out appearance--evidence of your enjoyment written all over your face.

"You're so beautiful, querida," he murmured.

You blushed. "So are you."

He chuckled. "I'm not quite sure a man wants to hear that he's beautiful."

"Eres muy guapo, papi," you said with a grin.

His eyes darkened slightly. "That's much better."

He pulled himself up so he could kiss you properly. When he deepened the kiss, you found yourself heating up--the desire once again building in your core.

"How 'bout I take you to bed and properly worship you, cariño? Would you like that?"

Your eyes widened. "You don't have to..."

"I know, but I want to. I wanna taste that pretty pussy properly before I fuck you again."

You grinned a little, enjoying the twinkling in his eye as he looked at you. "Second door on the left," you stated, pointing down the hall.

"Perfecto," he murmured as he stood up. He leaned down and scooped you up in his arms, bridal style, and began to carry you towards the bedroom.

"Rafi!" you yelled in surprise, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

He tossed you onto your bed and crawled on top of you to kiss you deeply. "Now, if it pleases the court, I'd like to spend the next 15 minutes with my head between these sexy thighs."

Your cheeks blushed as you chuckled lightly. "It pleases the court very much."

He gave you one last grin before lowering himself between your legs and sending you to heaven as many times as your body would let him.

#rafael barba x reader smut #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba smut #law and order svu smut #law and order svu #rafael barba

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jerzwriter · 2 months

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A million years ago, someone asked me if I'd write a series that mimicked canon but with Tobias Carrick as head of the Edenbrook Diagnostic Team. While I don't have the bandwidth to take on a series at this point, as I'm doing my Open Heart re-read, I will rewrite select scenes that I think could be interesting.

The first one is that first night at Donahue's. I may have forced myself to finish this tonight just so I could read @alj4890's version before I go to bed tonight! lol Amanda, my fellow Tobias ho, I'm so glad you're taking this trip with me.

Book: Open Heart Book 1 / Chapter 2 That first night at Donahue's Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,445 Series: If it were canon... AU Summary: Casey and her new friends are celebrating their first day as interns at the renowned Edenbrook Hospital. When her attending, Dr. Tobias Carrick arrives, he can't take his eyes off the beautiful young woman, even though he knows he should. When she joins him for a drink, will the two of them be able to fight their attraction? Or will they give in?

A/N: Participating in the @julychallenge Pink: Playfulness, Warmth Black: Attraction

After a grueling sixteen-hour shift, Dr. Tobias Carrick opened the door to Donahue’s, desperate for a brief escape. He hadn’t been to his usual watering hole for the past couple of weeks, not since his messy breakup with the pretty nurse from Peds. He knew the probability of her tossing a glass of Merlot onto his expensive threads was real and best to be avoided. But tonight marked his grand return. Tonight, his need for relaxation made the threat of a hefty dry cleaning bill worthwhile.

It hadn’t been your typical day. The universe decided that the usual life-or-death matters weren't enough. So, it threw in a new class of interns and all the “joy” that came with them. There was a surprise visit from the Director of the Board and, to add insult to injury, a long phone call with his mother. Yes, tonight, he needed the poor lighting and the scent of stale beer that only his home away from home could provide. He nodded to Reggie as he settled onto his barstool, and within moments, his usual drink appeared. Finally, he was ready to unwind.

As he sipped his bourbon, his eyes wandered across the room, settling on the tiny dance floor in where a group of new interns were swaying to the sounds of Marvin Gaye. At least they have good taste in music, he thought, as he was about to turn back to the bar. But then he noticed a mane of golden hair thrashing about, accompanied by a radiant smile that threatened to light up the room. Dr. Casey MacTavish, was a new intern he met in a rather dramatic manner at the start of the day, and he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind since.

He couldn’t peel his eyes away. Her movements were a little erratic, to say the least, but there was no denying she was sexy as hell. Her laughter rang out over the music holding him captive. He took another sip of his drink, feeling a twinge of something he shouldn’t feel for an intern smoldering inside. He had a reputation for the artistic way he managed to blur lines, but as her attending physician, he knew this was one he shouldn’t cross.

He turned his attention back to his drink and was relieved when Reggie came over to discuss the Red Sox’s post-season chances. It was a welcome distraction, but despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept drifting back to Casey. He turned back ack to the dance floor, but she was gone but, luckily, not for long. A raucous chorus of wolf-whistles drew his attention to the side, where a new surgical intern Tobias had already dubbed “Ken” had the object of his attention bent backward as he feverishly kissed her.

“That lucky son of a bitch,” he mumbled under his breath.

The moment Casey was back on her feet, she tossed her head back with another infectious laugh, and despite Reggie’s attempts to pull him back to the conversation, Tobias was lost.

“I get that she’s prettier than me,” he finally heard Reggie laugh. “But does she know the Sox as well as I do?”

Caught, Tobias grinned sheepishly. “I don’t know, man,” he replied. “She strikes me as someone who could surprise you.”

“Yeah,” Reggie smiled, drying off a tumbler. “Well, she strikes me as someone who is making her way over here. Don’t look now, boss, but...”

“Hey! Do you mind if I join you?”

Her voice was melodic, and if he thought she looked gorgeous across the bar, seeing her up close was a bit too much... even for him. The delicate blush on her cheeks and playful giggle made it clear she caught him eying her from head to toe. Normally he was as smooth as silk... but he already made his first misstep. But who could blame him? Her smile, those blue eyes, the way her denim cut-off shorts clung to her body, showing off her... assets... that top that left little to his overactive imagination...

Casey cleared her throat loudly and motioned to the empty stool beside him. If she were being honest, she was reveling in the level of control she appeared to hold right now. “So, may I?”

“Of course,” Tobias replied, unable to hide a smile.

“What has you so dazed?” she teased, slipping onto the stool beside him.

“You just... you look different outside of work.”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different,” he said, turning to her with a smirk. “You looked like you were having fun out there.”

“Yeah, burning off some steam. If I can’t celebrate my first day as a real doctor, what can I celebrate?”

“True, true."

Just then, “Ken” approached the bar to order two beers. Tobias glowered his way, but "Ken" didn't notice one bit. He was too busy winking at Casey before rejoining his crew.

“I see you’ve made some quick friends," Dr. Carrick observed.

“Of course I have," she beamed, trying to discern… was he jealous? “With all of this charm and personality... I practically have to fight them off with a stick!"

Tobias laughed so much his eyes crinkled as he motioned to Reggie. “Two specials,” he smiled. “I hope it’s not too forward of me to buy you a drink.”

“Hell no!” She winked. “You know what I earn; feel free to buy me as many drinks as you want.”

God, he was impressed. Tobias Carrick was a known flirt, a master in the field, so he knew when he met a match and holy shit, did she have it. He didn’t want to steer the conversation back to a more appropriate topic, but he felt like he should.

“So, how was the first day?”

“It was... challenging, but that’s the name of the game, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” he nodded. “When I first came to Boston, I was interning at Mass Kenmore, and let me tell you....”

The two began to trade war stories of med school and, in his case, beyond. Their boundaries softened more with each sip they took. The conversation flowed easily, marked with laughter and, occasionally, a brief touch that felt like sparks igniting under their skin. Without realizing, Tobias leaned in closer, hanging on her every word. Beauty and brains were one thing, but her charm and wit gripped him and didn't let go.

“You know,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Do you come here often?”

“More often than I should probably,” he grinned. “It’s my go-to place after a long day.”

“Well, it’s easy to see why.”

He let out a snort. “Please don’t tell me because of the ambiance.”

“Of course not!” she replied, nudging his shoulder. “It’s the great company! I mean, it’s clear that I’m already your favorite, and here I am!”

“Oh, are you?” He chuckled, no longer able to deny the warmth building inside him. She had him mesmerized and all but forgetting “the rules.” But he was Tobias Carrick, and rules were made to be broken... weren’t they?

“So, the guy over there... the one you were kissing...”

“Bryce?” She asked, taking a sip of her drink as Tobias’s eyes fell to her lips; never had he been more jealous of a straw. “He’s cool. We just met today.”

“Damn!” Tobias exclaimed. “Does everyone you meet get a kiss like that?”

“Nah,” she smiled seductively. “Only the ones I lose bets to.” Meeting his eyes, she built up her courage and spoke with a flirtatious lilt. “Anything you care to wager, Dr. Carrick?”

That was it. He barked out a laugh, his eyes on fire. Yeah. He may have met his match.

“You’re something else,” he smiled, then his voice became lower and took on a more serious tone. “You know, I know we’re supposed to keep things professional, but you are not making it easy for me.”

“Yey," she clapped, "then it’s working!” Her face became serious, and she lowered her voice, too. “I definitely feel something here, Tobias, but I'm not stupid. I know this would be... complicated.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “But complicated doesn’t mean impossible. If you ever wanted to find a workaround, you just say the word.”

Casey’s eyes searched his. They looked at her so intently she had to remind herself to breathe.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispered. Sensing the shift, Casey's nerves got the better of her, and she glanced at the clock on the wall. “I should get going. Early start tomorrow and all.”

Tobias nodded, masking his disappointment. “Yep, and I heard your attending is a real asshole.”

“I don’t know,” she smiled. “He's impressed the hell out of me so far."

Tobias bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to take this to the next level with all his might. This woman was going to be trouble.

“Good night, Casey. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied, never taking his eyes off her as she walked away.

Tobias sighed as she left with her friends. This was going to be complicated, but there was no way he was letting her slip through his fingers. Some things were worth taking a risk for, and there was no doubt in his mind that Dr. Casey MacTavish was one of those things. He finished his drink and threw some bills on the bar to settle his tab.

“Hey! Leaving so soon?” Reggie hollered.

“Yep!” Tobias smiled. “I want to get a good night’s sleep. Suddenly, I’ve got a lot to look forward to tomorrow.”

~~~~~

Agh! This was so much fun! WHy didn't I do it sooner! lol

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #open heart fanfics #open heart choices #choices open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #tobias x casey #if it were canon... au #choices fanfic #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #canon rewrite

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year

Text

Rose Thorn Blues | p. 1

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: The other Daily Bugle intern has been a thorn in your side all summer. But if you wanted the job, you'd have to work with him. And you'd do anything to get it.

Word count: ~7k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Banter. Criminal activity. Swearing. A bit of angst but not really. J. Jonah Jameson lol.

A/n: I think this'll end up being around 3 parts, but we'll see. This has been tumblin' through my mind since last year, so I'm glad to finally let it out lol. Let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading <3

You used to enjoy the clear sky on a sunny day, the vibrating blue that stretched until it curved around the horizon. Used to love the way the lapping waves of the Atlantic shimmered for miles, its ripples echoing the sky’s image. The blue of the world before the sun came up, or the indigo quiet of a rainy day.

You even used to love how red the rusted bricks outlining your apartment building looked, tracing the tips of your fingers along them as you walked by, scarlet pebbles breaking off into your palm. The cherry glow of a late-night diner’s “Open” sign made the beats of your heart stutter, its lights reflecting off the glass and illuminating puddles littering the sidewalk. Even with the occasional rose you passed on your way to work, the red petals surrounded by thorns and overgrown weeds, you still leaned your nose in to smell its sweet crimson scent.

But that was before your internship at The Daily Bugle, before you had to write countless stories on Spider-Man all the time, and before you knew Peter, the other intern. Now, every cloudless day or trip to the ocean, hell, even the plump blueberries in the grocery store or a swirling glass of Merlot, an obnoxious red stoplight, or the tiniest cut exposing a drop of blood turned your stomach. You knew people could change you, but you’d never expected to hate the shades of red and blue — until you stared at it every day while standing in Parker’s shadow.

You’d shake your head, shove your fingernails into your palm, blink so hard your vision turned bright just to erase those colors from your mind and him from your thoughts. But you would have no such luck as you weaved your way through New York’s sidewalks under the summer sun, a barely-there breeze passing alongside the traffic. Your hand clutched your phone tight in its grasp.

On it held a photo of Spider-Man you’d just taken earlier that morning. He stopped a robbery, and you captured the moment he’d ripped off a car door to use as cover — a story that J. Jonah Jameson would love to spin into something ridiculous. You had nothing against the superhero, but it was what your boss wanted. The boss that would decide which intern would receive a full-time position at the end of the summer, and you wouldn’t go down without a fight against Parker.

He always had clearer photos and more information on Spider-Man — always seemed to get on the scene before you. You wouldn’t have been that upset if Parker actually was a better reporter than you, but that smug, chronically late asshole certainly wasn’t better than you. Not when you worked twice as hard just to watch him successfully stumble his way through this internship.

And that stupid shrug he gave you when Jameson chose his story over yours! He’d mutter, “Better luck next time,” as if you weren’t covering for his ass half the time. You weren’t sure why you did it anymore. Maybe you didn’t want to watch him get fired since this wasn’t an easy opportunity to get, but you definitely wouldn’t mind sitting back and enjoying him get chewed out by Jameson.

But that was unimportant now as you made your way into The Daily Bugle’s building, savoring the air conditioning as your breath tumbled from your mouth. This picture and the eyewitness statements you took would create a story Jameson wouldn’t think twice about choosing, especially when Parker always came in late in the mornings.

Walking through your floor’s doors, photo pulled up on your phone, you quickly dropped your bag at your desk before making your way to pitch the idea to Jameson. You’d mentally written the first half of it on your walk here already.

Your steps faltered though as you neared the office, hearing your boss’s voice echoing through the office.

“Good work, Parker. Finish it by noon, and we’ll publish it today.”

He was already here? Silently, you gritted your teeth, peering into the room. And of course, out walked Parker, one hand holding papers and the other shoved in his pocket.

“The one day you’re on time… I can’t believe this,” you quietly muttered, feeling a weight sink into your stomach. His shoulders hung casually while yours raised up and down with your breaths. His half-smile made you stare daggers into him.

He just raised an eyebrow at you. “Good morning to you too, sunshine. Most people happen to love my presence.”

You silently ignored his nickname for you as you said, “Then most people must be lying to you. What story did you give him?” You pointed your head toward the office, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“So you can go in and try to one-up me?” He scoffed, his eyes annoyingly bright and warm. “No thanks.”

As he made to walk away, you grabbed his arm despite your aversion to being near him. Even the heat of his skin made you too warm, just another reason to stay away from Parker. “I lied to Jameson last week while you were off doing who-knows-what when you should’ve been working. Now what was the goddamn story?”

The sound of other employees talking and making coffee filled the background. If you could just beat him, you’d be part of them one day. So you didn’t let up, waiting for him to answer as he looked between your hand and your eyes. He shook off your touch after a moment.

You watched his jaw tick, his eyes roll to the back of his empty head. “Fine. And because I don’t think I could handle the second-hand embarrassment. I’ll tell you that if your story’s about whatever Spider-Man was up to this morning, you might want to skip telling Jameson.”

The grip on your phone loosened a bit, along with the hope you’d put into this — into trying to prove that you were a good reporter too. But, of course, you were always stuck finding stories on Spider-Man, and too late with them anyway. Anything else wasn’t important news, not at this company.

You tried, and failed, to keep your frustration from your voice as you asked, “And how did you get here before me with that story? You’re literally never here on time and just always have some bullshit idea that’s barely a story.”

Parker just gave a short laugh, smirking at you. “And yet… I still beat you. Kinda stings, huh?”

You gave a grumbled “Piss off” before letting him walk past you this time. You filled up your water bottle, headed to the bathroom, made small talk with some woman you’d immediately forgotten the name of — all distractions so you didn’t have to go back to the desk that sat much too close to Parker, especially while he worked on the story that should’ve been yours.

When you finally returned, you refused to look at a particular person across from you — the two intern desks only separated by a half wall. You just fished out your headphones at the cheap desk with no air conditioning under the city’s hot summer.

A much-needed break from Spider-Man you gave to yourself, you continued working on a story you started researching last week. You’d gathered some statements and data about new unsafe water conditions in certain parts of the city. The story wouldn’t star on the front page of the website, or even the second. Third, if you were lucky.

The morning passed with minimal shouting coming from Jameson’s office and just a few “friendly” follow-up emails with sources you hadn’t heard back from. In the brief moments of silence between the end of one song and the beginning of another, you listened to traffic flowing through the streets below and the droning sounds of keyboards and the printer.

Only once you finished up the first draft of your article and turned to grab your notebook from a drawer did you notice a sticky note plastered on the edge of your desk. In messy handwriting, it said, “You type like a child bangs their fists on a piano” followed by a doodle of the sun, with sunglasses.

It wasn’t difficult to tell whose horrible scribbling this was. So after writing “Eat shit <3” on the back, you crumpled it up. You tossed it right at Parker’s face as you stood up, going to a meeting with one of the full-time writers here. Instead of knowing he caught it like always, you pretended it hit him right in the eye and gave him a papercut.

You didn’t look back as you approached Alice’s desk, the lead writer of the office. Her black curls bounced as she lifted her head, smiling at you. “Ready?”

“Yes, and thank you again for meeting with me,” you said, nodding with your notebook under your arm. She stood up, motioning you toward an empty office for the informational interview — mostly just asking her about her career in hopes it could help yours.

Sitting across from one another, you took notes as she spoke about herself and answered your many questions. Your writing filled one page after another, your wrist becoming sore but ignored under the weight of knowing this information could be important. When you asked what advice she would give to someone just starting out as a reporter, the silence that followed made you finally lift your head.

Alice looked at you with a soft smile while your pen stalled. “I would tell them that it’s not an easy career. And that it’s not for those without passion. You have to want this — and show it. The stories out there you want to tell… you can’t be afraid to search out the truth. ‘Leaving well enough alone’ has never been in my vocabulary.”

Your unfocused stare stayed on her while you processed those words… and the worry that you weren’t cut out for this work. There were stories you wanted to tell, but you couldn’t find the place to tell them. A cynical part of your mind shouted that maybe Parker did deserve the job at the end of this internship more than you.

The thoughts must have been evident on your face because Alice spoke again, her voice calm but stern. “Don’t worry. I see the passion in you. The best advice is to not let Jameson or anyone else stop you. ‘Kay?”

You nodded, unable to stop the smile on your face. So caught up in her words, you wrote down a condensed version of her answer: Follow your heart. Your thumb rubbed over the dried ink of the page, feeling the ridges of each letter. “Thank you, Alice. I’ll keep trying,” you said, and meant it.

She let out a light laugh, the sound loosening the tight muscles in your shoulders. “You better. I’ve been rooting for you to get the job,” she whispered, giving a wink that had you laughing too.

“Well I can’t let you down then, can I?” Letting your smile fall just a little, the curve of it no longer touching your eyes, you silently hoped that you wouldn’t disappoint her. Thanking Alice again, you made your way back to your desk with too many thoughts running through your head.

Slow moments passed as you returned to your chair, the cheap thing squeaking underneath you with each movement. Still, you closed your eyes for a second, just feeling the cushion beneath you, the armrests under your hands, the backrest keeping you from collapsing. A breath filled your lungs, chest rising inch by inch. You would not wait for anyone’s permission to change the world — even if that just meant ignoring your lying thoughts to change your own little world.

Slowly, you went back through your notes, adding bits here and there that you missed while Alice had spoken. At the bottom, you just underlined her final advice… letting the words bleed into your body as you promised to keep them at the center of your stories.

It kept you focused on your article surrounding unsafe water quality in the city. Thankfully, the hours passed quickly, and you got the article up on the site by the end of the day. All with minimal interruptions from Parker — despite another sticky note that said “Thanks for the granola bar ;)” on it. And sure enough, the granola bar you had on your desk was no longer there, but you silently tossed the note in the garbage without letting him know he got to you.

Though, with no snack, your stomach was definitely grumbling as you packed up. So you made the trek to a cafe with your backpack on, one headphone in, and a middle finger aimed toward Parker when he tried talking to you, a smirk plastered on his face that told you he had nothing important or nice to say.

The summer heat hit you as you exited the building, making you strip off your office-appropriate blazer. Still, you didn’t mind the sunlight after spending all day inside. Your music drifted into your ear, the beat of it matching your steps. You turned the volume down once making it into the bakery with the best after-work treat, the pink sign outside painted with cursive words: “Pat’s Pastries.”

Baked bread and sweet chocolate filled your nose, the smell helping you forget about work for a minute. You ordered your favorite cookie, pointing to the biggest one behind the glass. Silently, you ignored the whole tray of Spider-Man themed cookies they’d begun selling after the superhero saved the store from a robbery.

Instead, you just left the shop with a bite of the cookie already in your mouth. It practically melted on your tongue, tasting better than any granola bar Parker could steal from you. The cookie lasted you all the way home, filling you with a pleasant warmth.

In your apartment, you stood in the entryway for a moment. With slow movements, you removed your shoes, setting down all of your things. You’d only been collapsed on your couch for a few minutes before your phone vibrated. Part of you thought to ignore it and let the weight of your heavy eyelids drag you into a nap, but you knew it could be work. A groan came from your throat as you saw that it was work — a comment left on your article already.

People that commented on these pieces often had few nice things to say, so you braced yourself upon opening the site. Your thumb slid across the screen until you reached the bottom. Left by some guest user, the comment simply read: “What’s new? Beaumont fumbles again…”

Beaumont. Ellis Beaumont, the current city manager. He’d certainly faced as much backlash as any other official since he’d taken over five years ago, but you hadn’t considered him all that much when researching for this article. Did he have to do with poor water conditions in the city?

Before you could stop yourself, your hands went to your laptop. Your fingers typed across the keyboard, searching for relations between him and other issues the city faced recently. What came up most often was Beaumont’s press releases after most of them. His salt and pepper hair sat tightly cut to his head, no specks of dust visible on his expensive-looking suits. In each one, he stated how he and his team would work on fixing the problem — from unaffordable housing to upgrading technology throughout the city.

It wasn’t new to see a leader promise to do something and not follow through, but something kept sticking with you while you researched. At some point, between the sun falling behind the city skyline and ordering takeout to be delivered, you found yourself with dozens of open tabs and tired eyes.

Raking a hand down your face, you let out a long sigh. You finished reading another speech where he promised to fix something, crumbling infrastructure this time — “if only we had the funds!” And cue the part where he asked for donations to his nonprofit organization or proposed a government plan that would cost the citizens in tax money. Yet… hadn’t he raised the money? The last you’d checked, the street he’d mentioned repairing still had its potholes and unusable sidewalks.

A knocking on your door brought you to it, your eyes never leaving your computer screen. You just grabbed your food and paid the deliverer with a mumbled “thanks” before walking back to the laptop.

As quickly as you could, you yanked out your notebook from your bag and wrote down everything about Ellis Beaumont — before your food got cold. Your wrist ached again as you flipped the page, continuing to fill the lines with his career, his promises, and his letdowns.

Each of his projects toward bettering the city came with asking for money — money that didn’t show back up in the work. He’d made no updates as to how much he had raised or how he was going to use it. At the end of your notes, you wrote down in heavy ink: “Where is Ellis Beaumont’s money going??”

And even as you ate, trying to watch the comfort show you’d put on, your mind kept working in the background. Had others not also wondered this? Or if they had, did he have them in his pocket already? Sleep fought you that night, making you toss and turn in bed. But you had a story.

–

Walking into The Daily Bugle, you ‘clocked in’ (let Jameson see you in the office) and dropped off your bag. With just your notes, a pen, and a granola bar so no one would steal it, you made your way back out of the building.

Right before you made it from the office, though, a mop of dark hair appeared at the door. A small part of you wanted to somehow hide, the other part unable to resist the draw of him for whatever reason. But Parker chose for you, his eyes lighting up when they caught on your form. Your following scowl was enough to make him laugh.

“There she is, our lovely sunshine,” he said, leaning against the door frame. You ignored the sarcasm dripping through his words.

Instead, you raised your eyebrows and told him, “If Jameson asks, I’m out researching a story. Got it?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Parker pushed off the frame. His smirk was enough to set you off, but then he held out a hand to block you from passing. Behind your unyielding glare, you secretly hoped he tripped over his untied shoelaces or smashed his hand in the office printer. As he came closer to you, he asked, “Where are you off to? I haven’t seen any sightings of Spider-Man.”

“That’s a shame,” you said, uninterested. Grabbing his forearm, accidentally feeling the hard muscle underneath, you moved it out of your way. “Have fun getting him coffee!” You shouted it over your shoulder, leaving him standing there while you ignored the heat on your palm from touching his skin.

You shook your hand out, waving away the memory as you took the subway over to City Hall. It had to be as good as any place to start researching where the city’s money went after Ellis Beaumont flashed a white smile and pocketed it. He probably wouldn’t talk with you, but anything to get you closer would be worth it.

Emerging from the subway station, your eyes squinted against the brightness. Still morning, the heat hadn’t settled in yet — just leaving you with a sunny walk and a nice breeze.

The building’s intimidating size rose high toward the sky. A statue of justice, a woman holding scales and a sword, stood atop City Hall — staring down at each person as you entered the front doors. The ornate architecture and grand staircase inside didn’t help settle the daunting feeling crawling in your stomach.

Still, you walked up to the man sitting behind the front desk there, trying to look as friendly as possible. Smoothing out your outfit and putting a smile on, you said, “Hi.”

He looked up with a classic customer service grin to greet you. “Hello, how can I help you?” he asked, leaning toward you slightly.

You kept your shoulders back, mustering some sort of confidence in your investigation. How would Alice do this?

With a clear voice, you directly asked, “If I was looking for records of donations for a government-related nonprofit, would they be here? I couldn’t seem to find them online.” You gave him an unassuming look.

“Typically, but what nonprofit were you looking at?” he asked, typing something into his computer. You took out your notebook low enough that he couldn’t see past the desk.

Pretending to rack your brain for the name, you said, “I think it’s called Stronger Together. I love being able to see where my donation goes — it helps make me feel closer to the community, you know?”

Your hand ready to write fell limp when his mouth pressed tight, his eyes leaving the screen to meet yours. “Ah,” he said, “Well Mr. Beaumont is not always able to update that information, as he has many responsibilities to maintain.”

“Of course, I understand. Though, I also noticed that the recent infrastructure project has yet to be enacted. Is there an update on that?” You willed your voice to stay steady, to be unwavering under the impatient gaze of this man.

A muscle seemed to twitch in his jaw. “I don’t believe the organization has given one, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been working on it. He is a very busy man.”

“Busy enough that I wouldn’t be able to speak with him directly?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head, but he didn’t seem too sorry at all. “We could take your number for him to call you when he’s available, but…”

“He’s very busy,” you finished, giving a smile as you bit back a pained sigh. “That’ll be okay, I’m happy to have helped the cause.”

“Yes, and we’re very thankful for your donation.” The tight grin he gave looked like it hurt his cheeks to make.

“Well, thank you for the information,” you said. Just as you were about to leave, beginning to leave with nothing to show for the story, you turned back. “I know this is quite specific, but would you know what Mr. Beaumont’s next project is?”

Another flicker of impatience flashed across the man’s face, his hands clasping together. “No, I wouldn’t, but I’m sure it will be a great help to the city whatever it is. I think there may be a nonprofit fundraiser this weekend… but those are typically closed events — for investors and friends,” he said, his smile turning less warm by the minute. “You can donate online anytime.”

“Great, thank you,” you muttered before turning around, frantically jotting the little information you received down in your notes while walking away. You swore you could feel the man’s eyes on you until you slipped out the doors.

The entire ride back to the office, this story ate away at you. Everyone seemed to be keeping information on Beaumont’s money close to their chests, even about what his supposed nonprofit was really doing.

‘Stronger Together.’ You rolled your eyes, beginning to feel like he was the only one getting stronger. And he was having another fundraiser so soon? Probably for something like conservation this time — his team would likely make a whole show of planting a couple trees and get praised for it.

As soon as you got back to The Daily Bugle, you ignored everything as you dropped into your chair and opened your computer. Your fingers flew over the keyboard to type up the notes, both for decoding your scribbled words and ensuring you kept the information in multiple places. You tried tuning out the background chatter and the gnawing worry that this whole story would lead to a dead end, but you couldn’t ignore everything…

“Whatcha typin’ there?” Parker said as he swiveled his chair around the desks to look at you. Glancing for a moment at him, you saw the shit-eating smile pointed your way.

Your face flashed a fake grin. “Your resignation letter, Parker.” You continued typing, not responding to his quiet scoff. But then he stood up, his steps gentle against the floor. He towered over you as he came around to look at your screen.

Before he could even reach your desk, you switched tabs to a blank page. Without glancing up at him, you silently waited for him to stop watching you. It worked well enough at first, your mind happily turning blank instead of entertaining him.

But he put his hand on the edge of your desk, his body now much too close to yours. The warm scent of him washing over you had your skin prickling, your fingernails pressing into your palm.

Barely heard above the blood rushing past your ears, his voice came out quieter than you’d expected. “So secretive. You won’t even share with me?”

Ignoring the glint of smugness on his face, you turned to look up at him. “So you can try to one-up me? No thanks,” you repeated, using his words from yesterday.

“But given my track record for front-page stories, I’m sure you could definitely use my help.” Parker shoved a hand in his pocket, winking at you with those stupid dark eyes. In that moment, you wondered whether you could somehow frame him for helping Spider-Man and get Jameson to tackle him.

So caught up in that happy fantasy, you didn’t catch Parker’s other hand creeping across the desk until he’d already snatched your notebook. And before you could even stand to grab it back, his leg came up and pushed on one of your desk chair’s armrests, sending it spinning.

While your legs tried stopping the chair, you heard him say, “How are you even able to read this? Okay, I won’t tell Jameson, but you’ve gotta be honest with me: do you know how to write? Or read, for that matter.”

“I was walking while taking notes– whatever, Parker. I don’t need to explain myself to your dumbass,” you whisper yelled at him, stalking over to his side of the desks. But he moved the notebook away, cocking his head to the side.

With a grin that told you just how much fun he was having, he said, “Huh, I didn’t know your pretty little head knew how to multi-task.”

You opened your mouth for a second, processing that he called you pretty, before rolling your eyes. “Must be hard to imagine anything with your smooth brain. Now give me my notebook back.”

In the background, you heard Jameson screaming to some poor soul on the phone. You hoped it at least covered up your bickering with Parker. But it wouldn’t be able to drown out the sound of you strangling him, which you were now seriously considering as he held up a finger to you.

In a calmer voice, he asked, “Are you really doing a piece on Ellis Beaumont?”

Scoffing, you reached over and grabbed your notebook from his grasp. He didn’t seem to put up much of a fight, hopefully mentally perceiving the threats running through your mind. As you returned to your desk, you glanced once more at him — and got caught on something in the look he gave you.

“Yes,” you told him before sitting down, leaving Parker and any distractions on that side of the half-wall. The last thing you heard was a sigh before you put your headphones in.

For the rest of the day, you finished writing up your notes and your other assigned work. In between projects, you secretly continued researching everything you could about Beaumont and where those donations went. Site after site returned empty, most of them just filled with propaganda for his non-profit.

With weary eyes and a fuzzy mind, you finally found something as everyone in the office began to finish up. You wiped a hand down your face, a weight lifting from your shoulders when you discovered an address.

Searching through countless websites, some of which you probably shouldn’t have been using your work computer for, you combed through records of donations to Stronger Together. Most listed City Hall or Beaumont’s address in their donation. But one other address continued popping up more than a few times — somewhere in upper Manhattan, far from where the organization would operate from.

If you were listening to Alice’s advice to follow your heart, you would’ve stayed home. Your pounding pulse yelled at you that going to check out this address after sunset was the worst idea you’d ever had.

On your walk home and all through dinner, you pushed back against the trickling fear down your spine — caused by the ice-cold voice in the corners of your mind filled with every worst-case scenario. It only grew louder as you neared the address.

You hadn’t done much field work before, or any that hadn’t just involved taking blurry pictures of Spider-Man and making New Yorkers talk to you. As you walked along the sidewalk with your shoes tapping against the cracked concrete, following the directions on your phone, you wondered whether you were cut out for this. You kept your head on a swivel and senses alert, but did you have any clue what you were going to do once you reached the building? No, not really.

You had come after dark, so breaking in certainly didn’t seem out of the question. And as much as you disliked thinking about him, knowing that Parker wouldn’t back away from this if he were here kept your legs moving.

Before long, with a warm breeze at your back, you came up to a large warehouse. It sat in a pretty empty area — one with few people around that you could see. A few street lamps illuminated the space around it, the light stretching down a small alleyway next to the building. Craning your neck, you began walking down it, seeing whether you could peer in anywhere.

Your fingers brushed along the building’s side as you passed by several dark windows. Unable to spot anything through them, you crept toward the back. No workers, or anyone really, seemed to be there. Nothing except for a metal fire escape. It seemed to lead up to a door with more windows lining either side. Fluorescent lighting shone from inside.

Swallowing hard, you forced your body to walk toward it. Each step you took up went slowly, trying to keep your feet silent as you climbed the stairs. Under the weight of the stars and night sky, even with the sounds of traffic passing by, each breath felt too loud.

Silently wishing to anyone that’d listen, you hoped no one stood on the other side as you slowly looked in. But you only found boxes — not all that surprising, but disappointment mingled with the relief coursing through your muscles.

Hundreds of boxes sat throughout the warehouse, lining countless shelves. You made a guess that they probably weren’t storing any tools for fixing the infrastructure like Beaumont promised. But you wouldn’t be able to find out what they held without breaking in, something you didn’t think your nerves could take.

Though… someone else could show you what’s inside.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a brief movement along the floor of the building. Someone moved into view, dressed in a black uniform and holding a clipboard in their hands. They walked to a shelf you could just barely see and opened up one of the boxes. They set the clipboard aside to pull out something… long and metal. At the end appeared to be a claw of some sort–

Internally, you winced, instantly able to recognize it from all your articles. It was one of Doc Ock’s arms. The other side was full of fraying wires, no doubt ripped apart from a fight with Spider-Man. God, why did everything always have to come back to Spider-Man?

And, in that moment, you must’ve pissed off some god of fate to deserve this irony. As you were about to pull out your phone to capture the evidence, your thought alone summoned the man. A web attached to the worker, the other end coming from the red and blue superhero crouched on a support beam. Within a second, he pulled them up to the ceiling and cocooned them in webbing to dangle there — the scene forcing an involuntary gasp escape your lips.

Spider-Man had jumped down with supernatural grace and looked like he was going to investigate the box further, but whipped his head toward you at your gasp. Your heart crawled into your throat, your hand snapping up to cover your mouth.

Racing down the fire escape, your scrambled thoughts tumbling around your head, you hurried back to the street away from what you’d witnessed. But before you could leave the alleyway, a flash of those dreaded shades of red and blue dropped down in front of you — your feet stumbling backward as you barely kept a startled scream from coming out.

“Hey, hey. Not here to hurt you. I do the opposite actually,” Spider-Man said, his hands up to show you he meant no harm. His voice sounded unnaturally deep, but blood rushed past your ears, clouding your senses. You shook your head slightly, trying to focus on getting out of there.

“But uh…” he continued, cautiously taking a single step closer, “I don’t think you live at this address. Is that right?”

You absentmindedly chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him. He’d caught you sneaking around, but was that technically even a crime? Most likely. But clearly, you both were after some pretty similar things. So, while nodding your head toward the warehouse, you quietly asked, “What’s in there?”

His head tilted to the side as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Some no-no things. Which is probably why I should handle it, right?”

“Handle it how? By handing it over to the police?” you asked, a small jolt of panic rising in your chest. “What if it connects to something larger?” Your questions assumed that he didn’t exactly know where this warehouse came from and how it connected to Beaumont, but maybe not. Still, you couldn’t risk cutting this whole thing off early and breaking the investigation apart… and the story.

“Does it connect to something larger?” he asked, his gaze never seeming to leave you. You couldn’t tell much behind his mask, but the weight of those white eyes stayed focused on your face. They watched every microexpression crossing your face, despite the urge to hide from them.

Knowing you needed him on your side, or at least to not cover you in webs, you gave him a little more. Nodding, you said “Yeah, I think it does. I’m not sure how it all fits, but…”

“But?”

Pursing your lips, you let a breath pass before answering him. Jameson would kill you if he knew you were having this whole conversation without taking ‘photographic evidence’ and helping out Spider-Man. But that man was a prick anyway.

Letting out a long sigh, you said, “Check out Ellis Beaumont’s non-profit. I don’t think the donations are going where he says they are.”

He just cocked his head, but you moved around him, ready to leave this place and those watchful eyes. Your gaze avoided his as he let you pass toward the street, though he yelled out, “Do you need me to walk you home?” You just waved him off, your pace picking up. Still, he shouted a “Thank you!” for the information as you made the journey back to your apartment.

Unable to calm your body back to normal just yet, you found yourself jumping at every noise around you until your apartment door locked behind you. What you’d seen ran through your head again and again.

What did Beaumont want with Spider-Man? Or was he working with the villains to get rid of Spider-Man? His money couldn’t just be going toward costume dress-up storage, but breaking into that warehouse alone was out of the question for you. Leave it to the superhero rather than risk your neck.

Your brain racked itself for answers, working to figure out what interest Spider-Man had in showing up at that warehouse anyway. Even into the next morning, these thoughts plagued your mind. It left you in a haze as you entered The Daily Bugle — the noise of the coffee machine and Jameson’s muffled yelling more distracting than usual.

Even more offputting was that sat at your desks was Parker, the second time he’d ever beaten you into the office. Immediately, his eyes found yours, but you didn’t have the energy to give him a sneer or a smart-ass comment. You just started up your computer, planning to type up your notes again. Your hand rubbed down your face as you waited for it to turn on, already anticipating the inevitable interruption.

Sure enough, Parker stuck his head over the half-wall, leaning his forearms along the top of it. His chin rested on them as he said, “You look rough.”

Without raising your eyes to him, you let out a long sigh. “Wow… Thanks,” you said, letting an unimpressed look take over your face. You opened your notebook, turning to the pages where you wrote every piece of information you could remember after the events last night.

Parker raised his hands up in surrender, as if he hadn’t insulted your appearance. “Jus’ saying, you seem a bit stressed. Need any help, sunshine?”

At that, you finally raised your gaze to meet his — his ruffled hair dipping over his forehead while waiting for your response.

You squinted your eyes at him, your eyebrows furrowing at his words. “...I’m not letting you take this story from me, Parker.”

“Hey, I could merely co-author this story with you,” he offered with that smirk of his. “And I’m sick of writing about Spider-Man’s favorite restaurants to order from. C’mon.” He dragged out the word, practically begging you.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you considered him for a moment and his offer. His mouth tightened, drawing your gaze down to his lips and the sharpness of his jaw. Not the time.

“You really want to help me?” When he nodded, you still didn’t believe him. With a scoff, you asked, “Are you going soft on me?”

A sharp laugh escaped his mouth. “Don’t get used to it. This would cost you a week’s worth of granola bars.”

“Aren’t you the one asking to join?” you questioned with a smile you couldn’t hide. When he didn’t budge despite his ridiculous demand, you just muttered, “I’ll think about it.”

The long groan he gave as he sat back down told you how he felt about your answer, but it was easier to ignore now that he wasn’t staring at you. Why he was so interested in this story made no sense to you — not that you thought about it long as you finally typed up your notes.

Instead, you tried to figure out where to go next, where this warehouse might lead you. But a growing fear told you that it wouldn’t lead anywhere, your research online not giving you someone to question or even contact information for Beaumont. This politician seemed to keep things annoyingly tight under wraps.

As minutes slipped away while you ran into dead end after dead end in your searching, you internally debated whether to accept Parker’s help. Waves crashed in your stomach, the tide receding far away as if in anticipation of a tsunami — one threatening to destroy you. Letting him in meant risking your story, and risking the chance that he could get all the credit for your work.

As much as you hated the idea of sharing this with him, part of you thought you might’ve been in over your head. Especially after the run-in last night. And Parker certainly knew his stuff… sometimes. Not that you’d tell him that.

It was only once your search about Beaumont and that warehouse frustratingly turned up blank once more that you let out a sigh. It seemed it’d be a story with him or no story at all.

“Parker?” you called across the desks.

The sound of his chair shifting joined his raspy, “Yeah?” You bit back a grin as you realized you’d woken him up from one of his frequent work naps. When he swiveled into view, the red spot on his cheek from where he must’ve laid it on his arms confirmed your suspicions.

Still, you had to clear your tight throat before telling him, “You can help. But only if my name goes first, got it?” Before he could respond, you followed with, “And I take the lead on things, okay?” Your stare pierced his eyes, silently begging him to not take this from you.

The small laugh he gave loosened your tense shoulders just a bit, made your fists unclench. “Whatever you say goes…” he said, nodding with the most honest look you’d seen from him. “With some exceptions though. Cause you have a lot of bad ideas I’d like to veto.”

You wondered whether asking for Peter Parker’s help was one of those terrible, idiotic ideas. You hoped not.

@reidslovely

#peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker enemies to lovers #andrew garfield #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!peter #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #spiderman #spider-man #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader

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monsieurboyardee · 2 years

Text

2ha legally blonde au where mo ran goes to harvard to chase after the love of his life shi mei, but ends up falling in love with his uptight law professor after he gets chosen as a student intern for a huge murder case.

Listen okay frat president mo ran who barely got into a state school. He falls head over heels for shi mei, the head of his uni's nhs and a pre-med major to boot. After shi mei rejects mo ran bc mo ran isn't "serious enough" mo ran decides to buckle down and get into harvard to convince shi mei otherwise.

Once he gets there though he's constantly looked down upon for being stupid and low class, but seeing shi mei's shocked expression in the hallway made it all worth it. That is, until mo ran walks into his first class with the absolutely gorgeous but notoriously uptight professor chu wanning, who promptly throws mo ran out of class for not having the assignment completed.

Mo ran is FURIOUS, and immediately resolves to ace chu wanning's class just to spite his uptight professor, who looks at mo ran and only sees him as this stupid, shallow frat boy, just like the rest of his classmates.

Mo ran tears into his schoolwork like mad, only taking breaks to head to the small, local gym to box with his trainer turned friend, ye wangxi. Ye wangxi has been in love with her childhood friend nangong Si, who owns the small gym. Unfortunately, nangong si is too blockheaded to see her feelings, and ye wangxi is too afraid of messing things up between them. So mo ran teaches her some tricks to seduce nangong si (insert the bend and snap here).

One night, mo ran gets an invite to a costume party. he shows up in a pair of bunny ears and dark blue booty shorts, his chest bare and member bulging through the fabric. When he shows up though, nobody else is in costume. He storms into the party and ignores the resounding laughter, managing to find shi mei in the corner with his glass of merlot. They get onto the topic of prof chu wanning's fall internship program, which is notoriously hard to get into.

"I was thinking of applying for it, actually,” mo ran says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Shi mei smiles at him, and tilts his head to the side slightly.

"Are you sure, A-Ran?" He asks, his eyes wide and his expression innocent. "It's just that...it's a super competitive internship, and well, I wouldn’t want you to feel hurt in the event that you don’t get in.”

Brightest."

Mo ran blinks. "Um, I mean, I got into harvard, didn't I? Got a 179 on my lsats, got into all of your classes too. That's gotta mean something, right?"

Shi mei sighs, genuinely looking sorry for mo ran. "Well, yes, but...you know what you're like, mo ran."

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Mo Ran growls. Shi Mei looks to the side, swirling his merlot. Mo Ran’s stomach sinks to the ground.

"Shi Mei...I'll never be enough for you, will I?"

He doesnt want to know the answer. But when shi mei bites his lips and sighs out a weary, "A-ran..." He already knows.

He leaves. Fighting back tears as the rain starts to pour down, mo ran stands under the rain in his stupid little shorts and his waterlogged bunny ears, wishing he'd never come to harvard.

Then, from behind him, a startled call of, "Mo Ran?!"

Mo ran turns. Professor Chu Wanning stands a lil ways behind him, holding a yellow, floral umbrella while he gapes at Mo ran.

"Don't ask." Mo ran growls, wiping a hand over his face. He misses the way his professor's eyes cling to the VERY prominent bulge in his rain-soaked shorts.

"I wasn't going to." Chu wanning snaps back.

Mo ran grits his teeth. He is having an awful day, he's soaked to the bone, and he does not want to stand here with his most hated professor staring down his nose at him. It surprises him then, when a yellow, floral-printed umbrella is shoved into his hands. "You're going to catch a cold in that shameless attire," Chu wanning snaps at him, sliding his coat off to wrap it around his briefcase.

Mo ran's eyes dart to his professor's ill-fitting white button down, now partly translucent as the rain begins to soak it through. He's never noticed how...tiny his professor's waist is. Like so tiny, mo ran's hands could probably almost wrap around it entirely.

He's an erotic sight in his now entirely see-through shirt, clinging to his body and leaving very little to the imagination.

"If you have time to party, then you have time to check the forecast." Chu wanning looks at mo ran once more, standing completely still under the yellow umbrella chu wanning had handed him, before hurriedly looking away. "Now get back to your dorm before I write you up for public indecency."

Then he's gone, tearing off with nothing but his briefcase, wrapped in his own coat for protection.

Mo ran stands there is shocked silence, watching chu wanning's figure disappear in the downpour.

Mo ran slowly climbs to the top of his classes, and the people around campus start to respect him. Mo ran's habit of jogging shirtless has certainly helped his reputation with the ladies. Shi mei has hardly looked his way, but now the spell he's had over mo ran has been absolutely shattered, so mo ran focuses on pouring himself into his studies instead.

When he comes into class, chu wanning makes no indication that he even remembers that rainy night, let alone wishes to discuss it. He pushes mo ran harder than before, but the memory of that night dilutes mo ran's hatred for the man.

It's still a surprise to him however, when the list of people handpicked by the prof himself for chu wanning's internship program come out and mo ran's name is on the list.

#I’ll finish this later i said and then never did #but ONE DAY #ONE DAY I WILL #2ha #erha #ranwan #mo ran #chu wanning #shi mei #legally blonde au #modern au #copy pasted this from my twit #ace’s archives

191 notes · View notes

brookston · 14 days

Text

Holidays 9.8

Holidays

Actor’s Day

Asturias Day (Spain)

Blondie Day

Blue’s Clues Day

Colorism Awareness Day

The Commemoration of the Two Sieges (Malta)

Community Day (Extramadura, Spain)

Coronation Anniversary of Vytautas the Great (Lithuania)

Day of Aid Workers

Day of Asturias (Spain)

Day of the Battle of Borodino (Russia)

Extramadura Day (Spain)

Father’s Day (Latvia)

Festa Della Rificolona ends (Paper Lantern Festival; Florence, Italy)

Fiestas de Santa Fe begins with the burning of the Zozobra (New Mexico)

Financier’s Day (Russia)

Grandparents’ & Family Caregivers’ Day (Florida)

Hazelnut Day (French Republic)

Iguana Awareness Day

International Day of Journalists

International Literacy Day (UN)

Kosrae Liberation Day (Micronesia)

La Vierge de Meritxell (Feast of Our Lady of Meritxell; Andorra)

Mariä Geburt (Liechtenstein)

Martyrs’ Day (a.k.a. Massoud Day; held on Shahrivar 18) [Can be 9.8 or 9.9]

Matki Boskiej Zielnej (a.k.a. Fest of Greenery; Poland)

Meritxell Day (Andorra)

National Actors Day

National Ampersand Day

National David Day

National Dog Walker Appreciation Day

National Double Merle Awareness Day

National Essential Medicine Shortages Awareness Day

National Iguana Awareness Day

National Lissencephaly Awareness Day

National Neighborhood Day

National Pardon Day

908 Day

Nuakhai (Odisha, India)

Onam ends (India)

Pardon Me Day

Pediatric Hematology/Oncology Nurses Day

Pledge of Allegiance Day

Sirona Asteroid Day

Solidarity Day of World Heritage Cities

Star Trek Day

Tank Crewman’s Day (Russia)

Turkmen Bakhshi Day (Turkmenistan)

Victory Day (Malta)

Volunteer Day (Spain)

World Gravity Day

World Physical Therapy Day

Worldwide Cystic Fibrosis Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Bacon Burger Day

Date Nut Bread Day

International Day of Papaya

International Food Delivery Day

National Merlot Day (South Africa)

Independence & Related Days

Alsann (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

Andorra (Nation founded, 1728)

Macedonia (from Yugoslavia, 1991)

Seybold (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]

2nd Sunday in September

Auditor's Day (Scientology) [2nd Sunday]

Day of Lake Baikal (Russia) [2nd Sunday]

Day of Open Monuments (Germany) [2nd Sunday]

Day of the Homeland (Germany) [2nd Sunday]

Education Day (UK) [2nd Sunday]

Family Day (Kazakhstan) [2nd Sunday]

Fjord Day (Denmark) [2nd Sunday]

Grandparent's Day (Canada) [Sunday after 1st Monday]

Great Procession of Tournai (Belgium) [2nd Sunday]

Hug Your Hound Day [2nd Sunday]

Joust of the Quintana: La Rivincita (The Rematch; Italy) [2nd or 3rd Sunday, Pt. 1 in July]

National Bilby Day (Australia) [2nd Sunday]

National Dementia Carers Day (UK) [2nd Sunday]

National Education Sunday (UK) [2nd Sunday]

National Firefighters’ Memorial Day (Canada) [2nd Sunday]

National Pet Memorial Day [2nd Sunday]

PBC (Primary Biliary Cholangitis) Awareness Day [2nd Sunday]

Racial Justice Sunday [2nd Sunday]

Remembrance Day for Victims of Fascism [2nd Sunday]

Road Workers Day (Tajikistan) [2nd Sunday]

Sandwich Sunday [2nd Sunday of Each Month]

Sleepy Sunday [2nd Sunday of Each Month]

Seven For Sunday [Every Sunday]

Sundae Sunday [Every Sunday]

Sunday Funday [Every Sunday]

Survey Sunday [2nd Sunday of Each Month]

Sustainable House Day (Australia) [2nd Sunday]

Turkmen Bakshy Day [2nd Sunday]

Vanavanemate Päev (Estonia) [2nd Sunday]

Workers of Natural Gas and Petroleum Industry Day (Ukraine) [2nd Sunday]

Weekly Holidays beginning September 8 (2nd Full Week of September)

Folic Acid Awareness Week (thru 9.14)

Healthcare Environmental Services Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

International Housekeepers Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Arts in Education Weeks (thru 9.14) [From 2nd Sunday]

National Assisted Living Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Beauty and Barber Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Biscuit and Gravy Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Compassionate Leadership Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Environmental Services Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Nephrology Nurses Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Suicide Prevention Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

Festivals Beginning September 8, 2024

Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival (Austin, Texas)

Bean Soup Festival & Fair (McClure, Pennsylvania) [thru 9.14]

Bloemencorso Lichtenvoorde (Lichtenvoorde, Netherlands)

Bloemencorso Loenhout (Loenhout, Belgium)

Cambridge Carnival (Cambridge, Massachusetts)

Fiddles Vittles and Vino (Colorado Springs, Colorado)

Heritage Fire (Willamette Valley, Oregon)

International Alexandrinsky Theatre Festival (Saint Petersburg, Russia) [thru 10.30]

Manifesta [European Nomadic Biennial] (Barcelona, Spain) [thru 11.24]

Feast Days

Adrian and Natalia of Nicomedia (Roman Catholic Church)

Adrian of Nicomedia (Christian; Saint Feast Day) [brewers, middle England's brewers guild] *

Ann Beattie (Writerism)

Archie Goodwin (Artology)

Carnot (Positivist; Saint)

Corbinian (Christian; Saint)

Disibod (a.k.a. Disen or Disbode; Christian; Saint)

Eusebius, Nestablus, Zeno, and Nestor (Christian; Martyrs)

Feast of Honor for Lada and Leda (Bread & Harvest Festival; Slavic Pagan/Asatru)

Feast of ‘Izzat (Might; Baha’i)

Feast of Papa-Lea (God of Kava Drinking)

Frédéric Mistral (Writerism)

Il-Vittorja (a.k.a. Feast of Our Lady of Victories; Malta)

Jill St. John Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Mead Day (Pagan)

Michael Frayn (Writerism)

Mimi Parent (Artology)

Monti Fest (Mangalorean Catholic; Parts of India)

Morty Moot Mope (Muppetism)

Nativity of Mary (Roman Catholic Church, Anglo-Catholicism)

Our Lady of Charity (Christian; Saint)

Our Lady of Covadonga (Christian; Saint)

Our Lady of Good Health of Vailankanni (Christian; Saint)

Our Lady of Meritxell (Andorra; Christian; Saint)

Ozias Humphry (Artology)

Paradoxically Non-Paradoxical Day (Pastafarian)

Sergius I, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Theosophy Day

Vicious Sex Day (Pastafarian)

Virgin Mary Day

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Fortunate Day (Pagan) [36 of 53]

Prime Number Day: 251 [54 of 72]

Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Ally McBeal (TV Series; 1997)

Betty Crocker's Cookbook, by the Betty Crocker Editors (Cookbook; 1950)

Blue’s Clues (Children’s TV Series; 1996)

Bone Machine, by Tom Waits (Album; 1992)

Boys Town (Film; 1938)

The Breadwinner (Animated Film; 2017)

Brigadoon (Film; 1954)

Carnival Courage (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1945)

Cat's Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. (Novel; 1963)

Catty-Cornered (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1966)

Cold Comfort Farm, by Stella Gibbons (Novel; 1932)

Cosmicomics, by Italo Calvino (Short Stories; 1965)

The Cyberiad, by Stanisław Lem (Short Stories; 1965)

The Eagle Has Landed, by Jack Higgins (Novel; 1975)

Everglade Raid (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1958)

Frank Sinatra Sings for Only the Lonely, by Frank Sinatra (Album; 1958)

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. (Novel; 1965)

Havana, by Camila Cabello (Song; 2017)

Hitchhiker, by Neil Young (Album; 2017)

Hold Your Fire, by Rush (Album; 1987)

iCarly (TV Series; 2007)

I Just Can’t Get You Out of My Head, by Kylie Minogue (Song; 2001)

It (Film; 2017)

Jeannie (Animated TV Series; 1973)

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke (Novel; 2004)

The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, by Julie Andrews Edwards (Children’s Book; 1974)

Lost in Space (Hanna-Barbera Animated TV Film; 1973)

Lovelorn Leghorn (WB LT Cartoon; 1951)

Make Me, 20th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2015)

Mouse-Warming (WB LT Cartoon; 1952)

Never for Ever, by Kate Bush (Album; 1980)

Nurse Betty (Film; 2000)

The Oprah Winfrey Show (Daytime TV Series; 1986)

Psycho (Film; 1960)

The Pure and the Impure, by Colette (Novel; 1932)

Purr-Chance to Dream (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1967)

Scalp Treatment (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1952)

Second Foundation, by Isaac Asimov (Novel; 1953) [Foundation #3]

The Sirens of Titan, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. (Novel; 1959)

Slicked-Up Pup (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1951)

Song of Victory (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1942)

Star Trek (TV Series; 1966)

Suffer, by Bad Religion (Album; 1988)

Today’s Name Days

Adrian, Mariä Geburt (Austria)

Hadrijan, Maja, Marija, Sergije (Croatia)

Mariana (Czech Republic)

Maria (Denmark)

Mariann, Marianna, Marianne (Estonia)

Taimi (Finland)

Adrien, Béline (France)

Adrian, Mariä Geburt, Otmar (Germany)

Despoina, Genethlios, Skiadeni, Tsampika (Greece)

Adrienn, Mária (Hungary)

Immacolata, Maria (Italy)

Amirs, Ilga, Ilgonis, Nelda (Latvia)

Daumantė, Klementina, Liaugaudas, Vytautas (Lithuania)

Allan, Alma, Amalie (Norway)

Adrian, Adrianna, Klementyna, Maria, Nestor, Radosław, Radosława (Poland)

Natalia (Russia)

Miriama (Slovakia)

Cinta, Covadonga, Fuensanta, Meritxell, Natividad, Nazaret, Nuria, Sagrario, Sergio (Spain)

Alma, Hulda (Sweden)

Maria, Mary (Ukraine)

Adria, Adrian, Adriana, Adrianna, Adrien, Adrienne, Hadria, Hadrian, Hadrien, Joachim, Joakima, Joaquin, Joaquina (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 252 of 2024; 114 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of Week 36 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Muin (Vine) [Day 8 of 28]

Chinese: Month 8 (Guy-You), Day 6 (Yi-Hai)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 5 Elul 5784

Islamic: 4 Rabi I 1446

J Cal: 12 Gold; Fryday [11 of 30]

Julian: 26 August 2024

Moon: 25%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 28 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Mont]

Runic Half Month: Ken (Illumination) [Day 2 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 81 of 94)

Week: 2nd Full Week of September

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 18 of 32)

#calendar #Holidays

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minato-division03 · 5 months

Text

Miku’s Thoughts on Aoyama Division

Tomi Chōten

“I don’t really keep up with what goes around in… that circle… I mean he sounds like the biggest pain in the ass to walk this planet. We might be in the same city but thank the stars I don’t have to run into this walking headache anytime soon.”

Surrounding the socialite of Aoyama were clusters of yen coins, as if they were raining over his head.

You’re kidding… coins?

I swear to god, that is the most blinding, hideous shade of yellow I’ve ever seen, ugh… how do I even begin to describe this… you know what it reminds me of? A baby duck. It’s all patchy and weird… it’s got all this weird yellow and then these greyish blue splotches here and there.

Anyway, yellow… yellow… I don’t even know what to make of this since I can’t really pinpoint the shade… There’s no way he matches a bright yellow, he’s too much of a douchebag for that. Hmm… maybe the overabundance of the color of confidence means over-confidence? Maybe? This guys’ colors are just like his personality: one big headache

But then he’s got these grey-blue splotches that look like the ass-end of a baby duck… but it’s surrounding his heart… Well then… to think Mr. Prissy Rich Boy has something to be insecure about after all.

That’ll make things too easy.

Karada Kessaku

Miku slid the photo away from her with a shudder. She sighed and brought the photograph back to her and stared at the man with a large build until his figure began to blur.

Surrounding the man’s body were what appeared to be… smoke? No… it was steam…

Circling around his head, the colors of the water vapors appeared to be closer to a merlot red. However, the sleight tinge of grey didn’t go unnoticed by her. Darker in color and slightly leaning towards grey that prevented it from being a true red.

The colors gradually transitioned into somewhat a vermillion orange color around the man’s muscle before transitioning into a true red towards his lower half.

You’re kidding…

That’s it?

No other colors…?

Holy stars, so there is literally not a single thought behind this dude’s eyes… Guess that does make sense for a dude that only thinks with his muscles and his dick…

Luis Kōkyū

“Oh, I’ve been to his restaurant with the Queen Card, Reiaki, and the rest of the crew after a full day of filming for TV. Even back when I was touring overseas, I never had time to explore the foods that locals ate. So I guess eating dishes from this guy’s place was the closest I was gonna get to eating international food. It was good, it was nice to eat foods that were different from the Japanese, Chinese, and American foods I’m used to.”

“The Queen filled me in about this guy… maybe parts of me feels for this guy but the way he is now… I dunno, I’m sorta neutral so I don’t really know what to make of him.”

Dusted around the chef were dust clouds of pumpkin-orange spices that almost looked glittery around the man.

Oh wait…?

She shut her eyes tightly and then opened them up again. She stared at the photograph of Luis until his figure faded into a hazy blur and the colors became more clear to her.

That’s strange… I didn’t think I’d see purple from from any of these three… it’s not supposed to be for the superficial ones… so…?

Miku hummed and stared closer at the photograph. Meh, I guess it makes sense for the crown chakra to be reserved for the all-too famous chef… but it’s kind of a… heathery-purple? So then… Huh, well okay then…

Jet Set Trio

“So there’s two Minato teams… one more in Roppongi, and now here’s Aoyama… also in Minato… it was already weird that two teams rep Minato, and yeah I know smaller districts can also be repped, but why so many? Is there something in this city specifically that’s so coveted? Like what’s going on?”

She shuffled the photographs and laid them all out in front of her.

Guess the best you can do is let every single one of us battle it out until one emerges and overtakes the rest in one easy swoop.

It’s almost no competition here… that can’t be right… it’s almost suspicious that this seems too easy…

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic arb #hypmic arb #aoyama division #jet set trio #tomi chōten #karada kessaku #luis kōkyū #minato division #r.i.p märchen #miku shirazuki

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luminnara · 2 years

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Valentine’s Day Perfumes!

(I know I’m behind, YES they will have labels with custom art, I am just scrambling last minute to post these lol)

I have perfumes! They are based on horror movies! I have a Valentine’s Day Bundle including two NEW scents!!

Bride - "Barbie, eat your heart out!" Inspired by our favorite murder doll, the scent of leather joins brown sugar and black cherry merlot to create a badass, yet femme perfume. Maneater - A late '00s throwback featuring black cherry and brown sugar, perfect for when you're involved in a ritual sacrifice gone wrong. Bloody Valentine - Campfire smoke and black cherry swirl together, and honestly? They probably smell way better than those coal mines.

Spray fragrance can only be shipped within the US, but the roll ons are available for international! Bundles are $25 + shipping and can be found on my etsy, SlasherCo!

#perfume #fragrances #horror movies #slashers #tiffany valentine #my bloody valentine #jennifer's body #bride of chucky #slasher x you #slasher x reader

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drarrymicrofic · 11 months

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Happy International Merlot Day 🍷! Today's prompt is the song Who We Are by Hozier, sent to us by @readdreamwrite28! Listen | Lyrics

Happy Writing! The Microfic Mods 📜✨

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry squad #hpdm #Draco and Harry #Harry and Draco #Draco x Harry #Harry x Draco #Draco/Harry #Harry/Draco #November 2023 Prompts #Prompts

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silveryfairy · 1 year

Note

Good day! I happened to go on this blog and was seized by a strong curiosity about the character Merlot Maruta this time. Kidcore and alcohol both in one character, is definitely something new. What is his real age? Please elaborate on this guy's story if you feel like it

oh my god i forgot to check this blog's notifications and this ask has been rotting for 12 days AAYUSHI IM SO SORRYYYYY. somewhat barebones cuz im sleepy hehe

so for starters, merlot is a wreck it ralph oc! the general gist is that he's a character in sugar rush, a kid's racing game. he's got a theme of wine-flavored candy! the reason for his age problems is that his age was (in-universe) retconned by developers, who initially made him a kid but aged him up because they didn't wanna make controversy around a 'kid' character being connected with alcohol.

but his appearance and voice didn't change, just his internal coding, etc, thus giving him the vibe of a grown adult trapped in a small child's body. it's mostly played for comedy but also generally makes him a very bitter guy because he feels there's nobody really on his level around because of this. in a game populated by like 80% kids lol. he vents his frustrations by being a competitive bullying little shit

he does have a regular human au, where he's still generally the same except his inability to physically age+looking very very young is just... something he was born with, and he follows the same patterns of "being an adult 'trapped in a kid's body', becoming a bitter cruel person for it", in the way that he knows he'll never be treated like an actual adult cuz of his appearance. in reality he's like, late 20s-early 30s but can very very seamlessly pass for like. 9.

his closest, and only really, confidant is my friend fig @/hatsunoid's oc colin, who's a bartender who knows merlot's secret and is one of the only people around who treats him like a 'real' adult. they get into lots of gossip. im very fond of their friendship :D

(he also made a cameo in our other friend flux's death game rp, where he was written by vie, the person i made the nocturnes with :DD fae portrayed him very well it was great)

^the besties

#babbles #merlot maruta

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canadian-riddler · 1 year

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merlot, vermillion, sangria, scarlet, and pomegranate for the ask!

merlot: do you have any unusual fears?

I don't THINK so. I'm not in scary situations very often tho

vermilion: have you ever pulled an all-nighter? if so, tell us about the first time.

If this means staying up for 24h, I have done it twice. I do not recall the exact circumstances other than that they were both when I worked overnights at Tim Hortons (so 11 pm to 7 am plus 45 minutes to get to and from work) and both times I just wanted to drop dead. If this just means staying up all night and then doing stuff during the day and then going to bed for a bit, I do that every time I have a morning appointment

sangria: to what extent do you enjoy sour candy?

I like it but I don't buy candy that often because I just get tired of eating the same thing. I actually couldn't tell you the last time I bought sour candy

scarlet: think of your favourite genre. what kind of media in that genre do you prefer - books, films, or tv series?

My favourite genre is science fiction and books definitely. It's a lot harder to do AI properly in a visual medium because a lot of what an AI does is very internal and in a way that's difficult to represent visually. There's also the fact that AI in movies and TV tends to be human-shaped with the goal of helping humans or becoming human. Books, AI can be in the cloud no problem. There was actually a book that did something I really liked with it called Sea of Rust where I BELIEVE the highest-level AI evolved into being supermainframes who were just silently cyberwarfaring with each other for years and years and years on end? Like I really don't think there's a good way to put that to screen. If I'm remembering that right, which I might not be. I didn't actually read that book, Microsoft Edge read it to me when the power was out after the tornado

pomegranate: favourite and least favourite fruits?

Favourite: apple, least favourite: pineapple. I won't go near anything with pineapple but I'll eat almost anything with apple

#so says Indy #apocalyptic dancehall #<3 #asks

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years

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International Merlot Day

We know Merlot lovers doesn’t need a special reason to enjoy a glass of their favourite Merlot wine. But the 7th of November we are celebrating the International Day of this amazing grape, so no matter in which part of the world you are, it’s time to to raise your Merlot glass and join the celebration!

Do you know Merlot is the most planted grape in Bordeaux?

If you think about the most representative and most widely planted grape variety in Bordeaux, the majority of wine lovers would think about Cabernet Sauvignon. But that is not the case. There are far more hectares dedicated to Merlot than any other grape in Bordeaux. To give you an idea about the importance of this grape, more than 60% of all vines in Bordeaux are Merlot. In contrast, the more famous Cabernet Sauvignon occupies the second place with about 25% of all the vines. However, these grapes get along together very well. In fact, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot are typically blended together, though the proportion of each depends on the geographical location of the winery in the Bordeaux region.

In Bordeaux, the Gironde estuary cuts through the centre of the region creating two banks: a left bank and a right bank. It is a winery’s location on either bank that determines the proportion of the grapes in the blend. And it is the right bank of Bordeaux the one that gives more protagonism to our beloved Merlot grape. In fact, right bank blends tend to be softer, less tannic and lower in alcohol and acidity levels.

Merlot in the World

Even if experts believe this grape offers its best expression in the soils of Bordeaux, Merlot is not all about that wine region. In fact, Merlot it’s not only the most widely planted grape in Bordeaux, but all over France! Moreover, Merlot is also broadly planted in many countries around the world such as Australia, Argentina, United States, Mexico, Italy, Chile, Switzerland and numerous other countries.

Reputation of Merlot

Although, Merlot surged in fame worldwide in the late 1980s, mostly in the New World. Unfortunately, its reputation plunged, ensuring a negative consumer response to one of the most memorable lines in the 1994 wine buddy movie Sideways, “no f*cking merlot”. However, Pomerol, the most emblematical Merlot area of Bordeaux, is home of top world-famous fine wines such as Château Petrus and its neighbour Vieux Château Certan.

Interesting facts about Merlot grape:

Did you know that the word ‘Merlot’ comes ‘young blackbird’ in French? It is believed that French winemakers either gave Merlot its name because of the beautiful blue-black colour of the Merlot grape or because the blackbird likes grapes.

Merlot wine is popular worldwide because of its capacity to please all palates.

Despite its lack of tannins, Merlot ages excellently.

Blended Merlot, when aged, usually softens the tannic boldness of grapes such as Cabernet Sauvignon, mellowing out the wine.

Because of its low acidity and high sugar content, Merlot is one of the best wine for being paired with food.

Some experts believe Merlot grape is cousin of both Carmenere and Cabernet Sauvignon.

In 1990s, the Chilean wine industry sold a large amount of wine made from Carmenere grape as Merlot.

Source

Miles Raymond: No, if anyone orders Merlot, I’m leaving. I am NOT drinking any fucking Merlot!

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brookstonalmanac · 15 days

Text

Holidays 9.8

Holidays

Actor’s Day

Asturias Day (Spain)

Blondie Day

Blue’s Clues Day

Colorism Awareness Day

The Commemoration of the Two Sieges (Malta)

Community Day (Extramadura, Spain)

Coronation Anniversary of Vytautas the Great (Lithuania)

Day of Aid Workers

Day of Asturias (Spain)

Day of the Battle of Borodino (Russia)

Extramadura Day (Spain)

Father’s Day (Latvia)

Festa Della Rificolona ends (Paper Lantern Festival; Florence, Italy)

Fiestas de Santa Fe begins with the burning of the Zozobra (New Mexico)

Financier’s Day (Russia)

Grandparents’ & Family Caregivers’ Day (Florida)

Hazelnut Day (French Republic)

Iguana Awareness Day

International Day of Journalists

International Literacy Day (UN)

Kosrae Liberation Day (Micronesia)

La Vierge de Meritxell (Feast of Our Lady of Meritxell; Andorra)

Mariä Geburt (Liechtenstein)

Martyrs’ Day (a.k.a. Massoud Day; held on Shahrivar 18) [Can be 9.8 or 9.9]

Matki Boskiej Zielnej (a.k.a. Fest of Greenery; Poland)

Meritxell Day (Andorra)

National Actors Day

National Ampersand Day

National David Day

National Dog Walker Appreciation Day

National Double Merle Awareness Day

National Essential Medicine Shortages Awareness Day

National Iguana Awareness Day

National Lissencephaly Awareness Day

National Neighborhood Day

National Pardon Day

908 Day

Nuakhai (Odisha, India)

Onam ends (India)

Pardon Me Day

Pediatric Hematology/Oncology Nurses Day

Pledge of Allegiance Day

Sirona Asteroid Day

Solidarity Day of World Heritage Cities

Star Trek Day

Tank Crewman’s Day (Russia)

Turkmen Bakhshi Day (Turkmenistan)

Victory Day (Malta)

Volunteer Day (Spain)

World Gravity Day

World Physical Therapy Day

Worldwide Cystic Fibrosis Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Bacon Burger Day

Date Nut Bread Day

International Day of Papaya

International Food Delivery Day

National Merlot Day (South Africa)

Independence & Related Days

Alsann (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

Andorra (Nation founded, 1728)

Macedonia (from Yugoslavia, 1991)

Seybold (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]

2nd Sunday in September

Auditor's Day (Scientology) [2nd Sunday]

Day of Lake Baikal (Russia) [2nd Sunday]

Day of Open Monuments (Germany) [2nd Sunday]

Day of the Homeland (Germany) [2nd Sunday]

Education Day (UK) [2nd Sunday]

Family Day (Kazakhstan) [2nd Sunday]

Fjord Day (Denmark) [2nd Sunday]

Grandparent's Day (Canada) [Sunday after 1st Monday]

Great Procession of Tournai (Belgium) [2nd Sunday]

Hug Your Hound Day [2nd Sunday]

Joust of the Quintana: La Rivincita (The Rematch; Italy) [2nd or 3rd Sunday, Pt. 1 in July]

National Bilby Day (Australia) [2nd Sunday]

National Dementia Carers Day (UK) [2nd Sunday]

National Education Sunday (UK) [2nd Sunday]

National Firefighters’ Memorial Day (Canada) [2nd Sunday]

National Pet Memorial Day [2nd Sunday]

PBC (Primary Biliary Cholangitis) Awareness Day [2nd Sunday]

Racial Justice Sunday [2nd Sunday]

Remembrance Day for Victims of Fascism [2nd Sunday]

Road Workers Day (Tajikistan) [2nd Sunday]

Sandwich Sunday [2nd Sunday of Each Month]

Sleepy Sunday [2nd Sunday of Each Month]

Seven For Sunday [Every Sunday]

Sundae Sunday [Every Sunday]

Sunday Funday [Every Sunday]

Survey Sunday [2nd Sunday of Each Month]

Sustainable House Day (Australia) [2nd Sunday]

Turkmen Bakshy Day [2nd Sunday]

Vanavanemate Päev (Estonia) [2nd Sunday]

Workers of Natural Gas and Petroleum Industry Day (Ukraine) [2nd Sunday]

Weekly Holidays beginning September 8 (2nd Full Week of September)

Folic Acid Awareness Week (thru 9.14)

Healthcare Environmental Services Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

International Housekeepers Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Arts in Education Weeks (thru 9.14) [From 2nd Sunday]

National Assisted Living Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Beauty and Barber Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Biscuit and Gravy Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Compassionate Leadership Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Environmental Services Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Nephrology Nurses Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

National Suicide Prevention Week (thru 9.14) [2nd Full Week]

Festivals Beginning September 8, 2024

Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival (Austin, Texas)

Bean Soup Festival & Fair (McClure, Pennsylvania) [thru 9.14]

Bloemencorso Lichtenvoorde (Lichtenvoorde, Netherlands)

Bloemencorso Loenhout (Loenhout, Belgium)

Cambridge Carnival (Cambridge, Massachusetts)

Fiddles Vittles and Vino (Colorado Springs, Colorado)

Heritage Fire (Willamette Valley, Oregon)

International Alexandrinsky Theatre Festival (Saint Petersburg, Russia) [thru 10.30]

Manifesta [European Nomadic Biennial] (Barcelona, Spain) [thru 11.24]

Feast Days

Adrian and Natalia of Nicomedia (Roman Catholic Church)

Adrian of Nicomedia (Christian; Saint Feast Day) [brewers, middle England's brewers guild] *

Ann Beattie (Writerism)

Archie Goodwin (Artology)

Carnot (Positivist; Saint)

Corbinian (Christian; Saint)

Disibod (a.k.a. Disen or Disbode; Christian; Saint)

Eusebius, Nestablus, Zeno, and Nestor (Christian; Martyrs)

Feast of Honor for Lada and Leda (Bread & Harvest Festival; Slavic Pagan/Asatru)

Feast of ‘Izzat (Might; Baha’i)

Feast of Papa-Lea (God of Kava Drinking)

Frédéric Mistral (Writerism)

Il-Vittorja (a.k.a. Feast of Our Lady of Victories; Malta)

Jill St. John Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Mead Day (Pagan)

Michael Frayn (Writerism)

Mimi Parent (Artology)

Monti Fest (Mangalorean Catholic; Parts of India)

Morty Moot Mope (Muppetism)

Nativity of Mary (Roman Catholic Church, Anglo-Catholicism)

Our Lady of Charity (Christian; Saint)

Our Lady of Covadonga (Christian; Saint)

Our Lady of Good Health of Vailankanni (Christian; Saint)

Our Lady of Meritxell (Andorra; Christian; Saint)

Ozias Humphry (Artology)

Paradoxically Non-Paradoxical Day (Pastafarian)

Sergius I, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Theosophy Day

Vicious Sex Day (Pastafarian)

Virgin Mary Day

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Fortunate Day (Pagan) [36 of 53]

Prime Number Day: 251 [54 of 72]

Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Ally McBeal (TV Series; 1997)

Betty Crocker's Cookbook, by the Betty Crocker Editors (Cookbook; 1950)

Blue’s Clues (Children’s TV Series; 1996)

Bone Machine, by Tom Waits (Album; 1992)

Boys Town (Film; 1938)

The Breadwinner (Animated Film; 2017)

Brigadoon (Film; 1954)

Carnival Courage (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1945)

Cat's Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. (Novel; 1963)

Catty-Cornered (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1966)

Cold Comfort Farm, by Stella Gibbons (Novel; 1932)

Cosmicomics, by Italo Calvino (Short Stories; 1965)

The Cyberiad, by Stanisław Lem (Short Stories; 1965)

The Eagle Has Landed, by Jack Higgins (Novel; 1975)

Everglade Raid (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1958)

Frank Sinatra Sings for Only the Lonely, by Frank Sinatra (Album; 1958)

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. (Novel; 1965)

Havana, by Camila Cabello (Song; 2017)

Hitchhiker, by Neil Young (Album; 2017)

Hold Your Fire, by Rush (Album; 1987)

iCarly (TV Series; 2007)

I Just Can’t Get You Out of My Head, by Kylie Minogue (Song; 2001)

It (Film; 2017)

Jeannie (Animated TV Series; 1973)

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke (Novel; 2004)

The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, by Julie Andrews Edwards (Children’s Book; 1974)

Lost in Space (Hanna-Barbera Animated TV Film; 1973)

Lovelorn Leghorn (WB LT Cartoon; 1951)

Make Me, 20th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2015)

Mouse-Warming (WB LT Cartoon; 1952)

Never for Ever, by Kate Bush (Album; 1980)

Nurse Betty (Film; 2000)

The Oprah Winfrey Show (Daytime TV Series; 1986)

Psycho (Film; 1960)

The Pure and the Impure, by Colette (Novel; 1932)

Purr-Chance to Dream (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1967)

Scalp Treatment (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1952)

Second Foundation, by Isaac Asimov (Novel; 1953) [Foundation #3]

The Sirens of Titan, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. (Novel; 1959)

Slicked-Up Pup (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1951)

Song of Victory (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1942)

Star Trek (TV Series; 1966)

Suffer, by Bad Religion (Album; 1988)

Today’s Name Days

Adrian, Mariä Geburt (Austria)

Hadrijan, Maja, Marija, Sergije (Croatia)

Mariana (Czech Republic)

Maria (Denmark)

Mariann, Marianna, Marianne (Estonia)

Taimi (Finland)

Adrien, Béline (France)

Adrian, Mariä Geburt, Otmar (Germany)

Despoina, Genethlios, Skiadeni, Tsampika (Greece)

Adrienn, Mária (Hungary)

Immacolata, Maria (Italy)

Amirs, Ilga, Ilgonis, Nelda (Latvia)

Daumantė, Klementina, Liaugaudas, Vytautas (Lithuania)

Allan, Alma, Amalie (Norway)

Adrian, Adrianna, Klementyna, Maria, Nestor, Radosław, Radosława (Poland)

Natalia (Russia)

Miriama (Slovakia)

Cinta, Covadonga, Fuensanta, Meritxell, Natividad, Nazaret, Nuria, Sagrario, Sergio (Spain)

Alma, Hulda (Sweden)

Maria, Mary (Ukraine)

Adria, Adrian, Adriana, Adrianna, Adrien, Adrienne, Hadria, Hadrian, Hadrien, Joachim, Joakima, Joaquin, Joaquina (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 252 of 2024; 114 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of Week 36 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Muin (Vine) [Day 8 of 28]

Chinese: Month 8 (Guy-You), Day 6 (Yi-Hai)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 5 Elul 5784

Islamic: 4 Rabi I 1446

J Cal: 12 Gold; Fryday [11 of 30]

Julian: 26 August 2024

Moon: 25%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 28 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Mont]

Runic Half Month: Ken (Illumination) [Day 2 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 81 of 94)

Week: 2nd Full Week of September

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 18 of 32)

#Holidays

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