#Mac conference

[tonkiads]

Mac conference

MAC CONFERENCE REGISTRATION

MAC CONFERENCE MAC

MAC CONFERENCE REGISTRATION

The scholarship supports young or emerging professionals to attend the BOMA International Annual Conference and Expo by providing a complimentary registration and $500 stipend. Michael Coleman Scholarship Fund was launched by the BOMA International Foundation in 2016 in honor of Mike Coleman who retired after more than 30 years as Vice President of Commercial Real Estate with Allied Universal. All of us at BOMA Philadelphia are extremely proud of Gillian’s accomplishments and are elated that she will be representing our local in the International spotlight as a recipient of this very special scholarship. She will be recognized with her fellow recipients at the BOMA International Conference in October in Boston. Gillian is also the current co-chair of the BOMA International Emerging Professionals Committee. She is a fixture at many other BOMA events as well, and has quickly become a very visible, supportive and active member. She is a member of the BOMA Emerging Leaders Committee and regularly participates in Emerging Leaders seminars and networking events. In that time, she has rapidly proven to be a rising star in property management. Gillian has been a member of BOMA Philadelphia since 2019. The purpose of the annual meeting is to: create, develop and maintain cooperation among the owners of office, retail, industrial, loft and apartment buildings promote the exchange of ideas and information promote the general welfare of the industry and groom the future leaders of BOMA International.Īssistant Property Manager, Accesso Services The Middle Atlantic Conference meets at the BOMA International Winter Business Meeting and the BOMA International Every Building Conference and Expo, as well as holding its own annual meeting in the spring. and Westchester County, NY, as well as Members at Large.

MAC CONFERENCE MAC

The Middle Atlantic Region, better known as MAC or the Middle Atlantic Conference, is comprised of 15 local associations with a combined membership in excess of 3500 members covering 11 states and the District of Columbia, including: Capital Region/Albany, Baltimore, Boston, Greater Buffalo, Greater Hartford, New Jersey, Central New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Long Island, New York, Rochester, Southern Connecticut, AOBA/BOMA Washington, D.C. WELCOME TO BOMA MAC! The Middle Atlantic Conference of BOMA assists Locals and their members maintain strong networks, advocates for the industry, provides educational opportunities and helps members succeed in the real estate industry.

[nightcourtcaps]

Night Court - Puppy Love (S9:E4)

[finnlongman]

By the way, if you would like to see/hear the Láeg paper for which I am collecting artwork, and which I think gives a pretty solid introduction to him as a person for those who are curious about what the texts tell us about his life (and how later authors interpreted them), you can register to attend the Celtic Students' Conference online. It's €15 to register, but of course, you get to hear everybody else's papers too if you like, not just mine.

My paper is at 2pm (France time) on the first day of the conference (Thursday 30 May), so fairly convenient for those in other timezones, too!

Since I think this paper is a fun introduction to Láeg, I'd like to try and film a version of it at some point for my YouTube channel, but my health currently isn't conducive to making videos (migraines and video editing don't mix well), so this might not happen any time soon. And even when it does, I'm not sure what this would involve in terms of visuals. Obviously, if I included the art from the PowerPoint I would check in with all the artists to see if they were okay with it -- being included in a conference presentation is not the same as being used in a YouTube video.

[thewildbelladonna]

Stevie photographed at a press conference in Rotterdam in 1989.

© Suzie Gibbons

[imtzzz]

♡︎𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞~ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐳 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦 𝟐3!

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐜 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐬, 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡, 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐟, 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐞, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧, 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐨𝐡! 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❤︎︎

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐛𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡, 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢, 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐲, 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚, 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐞𝐰, 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐨, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬, 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐬𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰, 𝐩𝐥𝐥, 𝐦𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐚, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨.𝐜., 𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 :)

𝐬𝐨.. 𝐲𝐞𝐚 ! 𝐢 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 ! ✫彡

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus & Magnus,

We made a video earlier this month that we ended up having to scrap after we completed the whole thing. I hated that no one would get to see it, especially the people who acted in it, so I arranged a private screening for our Tulsa office so some of Will West's coworkers could see him act in it. Look at those smiles -- that's my payoff for so many things I do at work.

As soon as we finished filming in Tulsa today, we hit the road for home and I was glad to make it in time to say goodnight to Gus.

Dad.

Tulsa, Oklahoma. 8.24.2023 - 1.05pm.

[streetsofdublin]

FATHER FLYNN MEMORIAL AT PASSAGE WEST IN CORK

Such was his reputation for curing speech impediments that the BBC producer Hywel Davis made a half-hour documentary based on his life

HE HAD A REPUTATION FOR CURING SPEECH IMPEDIMENTS It has taken me many years to establish the story behind this memorial which has 1881-1961 on the base instead of 1881-1962. Such was his reputation for curing speech impediments that the BBC producer Hywel Davis made a half-hour documentary based on his life entitled ‘It happened to me’, broadcast in June 1961. As a result, O’Flynn received…

[tmarshconnors]

Imagining a world without Apple Inc

Imagining a world without Apple would be a significant departure from our current reality. Apple Inc. is a multinational technology company that has had a significant impact on the technology industry and consumer electronics over the past few decades. Here are some potential implications of a world without Apple:

Technology Landscape: Apple has played a pivotal role in shaping the technology landscape with its innovative products such as the iPhone, Mac computers, and iPads. Without Apple, the development of these devices might have been influenced differently or delayed, potentially altering the trajectory of technological advancements.

Competition: Apple's presence has driven competition and innovation within the technology sector. The absence of Apple could lead to different market dynamics, potentially affecting the competitive landscape and product offerings from other companies.

Design and User Experience: Apple is known for its emphasis on sleek design and intuitive user interfaces. Their design philosophy has influenced various industries beyond technology. A world without Apple might have resulted in a different design and user experience landscape, potentially affecting how we interact with various products and services.

Developer Ecosystem: Apple's App Store has been a major platform for developers to distribute their applications. Without Apple, the app ecosystem might have evolved differently, leading to different platforms dominating the market and potentially affecting the availability and diversity of apps.

Economic Impact: Apple is one of the world's most valuable companies and has a significant economic impact through its supply chain, manufacturing, and retail operations. A world without Apple would have economic repercussions, including job losses and changes in investment patterns.

It's important to note that these are speculative outcomes, and the absence of Apple would have resulted in a different set of technological advancements and industry dynamics. Other companies would likely have filled the void left by Apple, albeit with their own unique contributions.

[natbelovasblog]

NATTY HEAD-CANNONS!

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff + Fem!Reader mentions!

SUMMARY: Just some little cute things I can totally see nat doing.

WARNINGS: Softy nat. That’s it.

A/N: Everyone sees her differently, but these are some things that I think it would be like dating Natasha! P.S.! This is my first post of mine on here. I hope you guys like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Natasha was very anxious for you to meet her family. The avengers: because they can be a little too pushy and irritating. Especially when your new to the team. Always talking and asking you questions. They can be very overstimulating when you don’t wanna be bothered.

As well as her adoptive family: Yelena, because she’s very much like Natasha herself. Protective. Very very protective. She was scared that Yelena wouldn’t like you, even though there is nothing to not like. She just hoped Yelena would, because her sisters approval means everything to her. Luckily It all went well…Yelena is so obsessed with you. She’s your best friend. She mainly is your best-friend because you make her food. Aka mac and cheese.

Alexei, he’s such a irritable human being, Natasha loves him dearly. But she also is aware he can be too much, as well as embarrassing. Especially with childhood stories.

Melina, She was less nervous about her mom over all of them. Melina is very supportive but she can also be to out-loud if she doesn’t like something. Saying it without a care in the world. So she was nervous Melina would say something rude to you without even noticing.

Natasha is very big on touch, it’s her love language. As well as acts of service and words of affirmation. She loves telling you how much you mean to her while staring into your eyes, and then kissing you deeply. She also is obsessed with getting you things you need. Especially when you’re on your period. She loves going out and buying you what you need- including chocolates, teas and anything or any food that “helps with the pain.” She’ll get you anything you want. Just say the word.

Natasha is a total nerd- no matter what anyone says. She loves re-watching all her favorite movies and saying all the lines. It’s gotten so bad to the point she has to lie to you and say she hasn’t watched the movie yet when she most definitely has, just so you’ll watch it with her. Then a couple minutes in, you’ll hear her silently mumbling the words while mindlessly playing in your hair. Safe to say you scare the shit out of her when you call her out for lying.

Natasha is a terrible cook but she really does try. And not because she needs to please anyone. Not because she needs to prove anything. But just because she wants to. She’s always trying to help people in the kitchen. She loves watching other people cook and loves watching cooking shows. So imagining herself being able to do it is definitely a goal of hers!

Natasha never gets drunk while with you, even if you tell her it’s okay, she refuses. She’ll get a tiny bit tipsy but that’s as far as she’ll go. She always wants to be in her right mind while around you, so she can protect you. The only time she’ll get drunk is when Yelena is with the both of you, and agrees to stay sober, because she knows Yelena will protect you with her life as well.

Natasha’s favorite season out of them all is definitely fall!! She lovesss being able to just cuddle under the covers without being to hot- or too cold. But perfectly content. Plus she loves taking photos of all the pretty leaves and trees- being the nerd she is.

She fiddles with your hands a lot, 9/10 times in the conference room she’ll grab your hand, just mindlessly playing with your rings or putting her rings on your hands to play with if you don’t have any on. Just randomly outlining the creases in your hands or massaging them.

She’s always chewing gum or biting her cheek when she’s nervous or stressed. Just something to keep her mouth busy. Most of the time she’ll just walk up to you and randomly bite your thigh when your reading- as a means to distract her mouth.

She yankes the covers off of you at night- even if she doesn’t mean too. Then when she wakes up in the morning, she covers you up, wondering why you’re never covered up in the mornings.

She’s so so so fucking stubborn. You will not and can not tell this woman anything. It goes in one ear and right out the other, especially if she knows it’s something she’s not supposed to do.

Natasha is not much for PDA, but boy oh boy when you kiss her in public or put your hand on her thigh, she can’t stop the flustered look and cherry red blush from covering her face, and you live for it.

Natasha always pampers you and gives you anything you want or need. Even when you don’t know you want or need something, she does- and immediately gets it for you.

She is a huge coffee addict. It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is- she will have her coffee, when she wants it and exactly how she wants it.

Natasha is very private and sensitive about your shared relationship around her family and friends, but by no means is it a secret.

When you two are in public, she is always holding your hand, belt loop, jacket or she’s either checking around every corner and rooftop. Making sure your safe at all times.

When Natasha used to have nightmares, she would walk down to the kitchen and fix herself some coffee, nervous to wake you up with her yelps and movements if she had fallen back asleep, fallen back into her nightmare. That was used to, when you had first starting sleeping in the same room. But now, she cuddles even closer to you, sometimes even waking you up with a soft “baby” just so she knows that she’s safe as you comfort her. Telling her that your proud of her for waking you up.

Natasha never yells durning fights or disagreements. Her voice may get a little loud, and she may even shout a bit, but she never ever yells. She tells you she’ll be back and goes for walks, or car rides to calm down. Then comes back, hugs and kisses you and sits you down for a talk.

She’s OBSESSED with animals. Cats specifically. She always says she doesn’t like them, trying to be mysterious and different, but in reality you see the little pout come upon her face every time you two see a stray animal or kitten on the street.

[buggybambi]

gallagher next door | lip gallagher

lip learns an interesting fact about you and has to change it. ─ 1.43k ─ nsfw content, minors dni! (fem/afab!reader, 'angel', 'honey', other pet names used, oral - f recieving, unwrapped p in v, fingering, friends to lovers, no use of y/n)

Lip Gallagher’s throwing pebbles at your window, and it doesn't surprise you.

Lip had been your best friend for a few years now. He was the boy you went to for dating advice, you were the one he went to for his crazy family dramas and advice on what to do most of the time. You two were each other’s soulmate, as people joked.

Ever since you moved to Chicago nearly sixteen years ago and met Lip as the boy next door, you knew there was something unique about him. Something that drew you to him naturally.

He’d made a habit most recently of climbing into your window to talk. Late night thoughts, troubes. Anything and everything, all he had to do was throw small enough sized pebbles to get your attention and you’d sneak him in through the front door up to your bedroom.

Sure enough, it was happening again tonight. An oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts, you stuck your head out into the cold summer air. Finding Lip down below as you hum. “Whatcha doing, Gallagher?” You ask.

“Hey, there’s the prettiest girl. Do you look prettier then the last time I saw you?” He asks, head tilted up at you as your roll your eyes. “You saw me this morning, Lip.” You comment.

"Point stands, sweetness. You gonna make me stand here all night or do I get to come in?" He asks. You pause like you're contemplating it before you giggle, rushing downstairs and opening the front door. "Your parents home?" He questions as he hangs his coat up.

You shake your head. "Business conference." You answer as you walk upstairs with him. He plops himself down on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed rabbits and playing with its ears. You sit beside him. "Have you eaten today?" It's always the first thing you ask him, knowing he can either get so busy and forget, or just forget to eat in general.

"Nah. Had oatmeal Fi made this morning, though. Wasn't very good." He answers as you frown. "Lip, that was like eight in the morning. It's almost.." you give a glance to the clock. ".. nine pm. Let me make you something. Mac and cheese?" You offer, remembering it's one of the boys favorites.

He lets out a soft groan. "That sounds better then head right now. You know me so well." He says as he sits up. You laugh nervously. "I wouldn't know but.. whatever you say." You comment.

He stares at you. "No one's ever gone down on you?" He asks, all seriousness in his voice. You roll your eyes. "Don't call it that, Lip. But to answer, no." You say with a shrug.

You frown as he continues to stare. "It's not a big deal." You mumble. He shakes his head. "No, no I just- I guess I assumed an ex would have offered or something at least."

"I don't know. One guy.. tried I guess.. but he wasn't very good and he stopped just like, a minute in cause I took too long." You answer.

"Okay.. angel, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can."

"You trust me, right?" He takes a step. "Of course I do, Lip, more than anyone." He nods. "Next question.." He says.

"Would you let me taste you?" He's suddenly standing closer to you, just within arms reach.

Your eyes meet his instantly as you stare at him. "Lip-" You begin to speak but cut yourself off, shaking your head. "I don't want you to feel like you have to or anything, and I don't want this to change things between us."

"It won't. You trust me, don't you? I wanna do this." He says, pressing his forehead against yours. You stare at him before you exhale. "Okay." You agree, your voice soft.

It doesn't take long after that for his lips to be on yours, kissing you slowly. Your hands sit at your side before you think to move them, wrapping them around his neck. His find your waist, slowly beginning to move you toward the bed, letting you fall back first as you smile against his lips.

His hands explore new areas, as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You let him do as he pleases, your hands gripping at fabric as he pulls away, beginning to kiss down your jaw.

“Lip.” You moan as he begins sucking on your neck. He only pulls away to remove your shirt, so he can have easier access to your chest. Kissing down your chest, hands on your thighs as you let out soft moans that he thinks are heavenly.

He then removes your shorts, removing his own shirt. Hands kneeding at the skin at your thighs, as he begins kissing down your stomach. You let out impatient whines as he smirks against the skin. “Patience, angel. Gotta take my time with you, y’know?” He whispers to himself as he finally reaches your wet cunt.

“So wet f’me, aren’t you?” He asks softly, the only sound filling the room was the fan blowing in the corner. You can't answer, anticipation stopping you as you just nod, staring at the ceiling. Staring at Lip as his nose bumps against your clit seems impossible.

He gently slides his tongue past your wet folds, your body wanting to arch at the sudden intrusion of his tongue in you. He holds your hips down, only moving away from placing kisses on your clit to gently insert a finger in you. "Taste so sweet, angel." He whispers.

Your mind is fogged, the only thought being one thing: Lip. Needing to feel him, you reach a hand down to run a hand on his hair. He grins, placing kisses on the inside of your thigh as he adds a second finger. He begins leaving a hickey on the inside of your thigh, as he arches his fingers.

He removes them, replacing them instead with his tongue. Eating you like a man starved. He can't stop, he tells himself that he cannot stop. Grinding into the mattress, the only thought plaguing his mind is you. How sweet you taste, how tight you feel. The way his jaw is soaked with you.

"Lip, I'm close." You moan softly, as he kneeds the skin on your thigh.

"Come for me, sweetheart." He requests, and you do so. Letting yourself fall apart for him, as you throw your head back.

He grins, as he pulls away. "I need to feel you, Lip, please." You beg, and he's already removing his pants and freeing himself from his boxers. "Okay, okay.. now, honey, I can grab a condom but-"

"No, please. I'm on the pill, we're safe." You confirm with a nod, as you stare at him. He laughs, as he kisses you again as he slides himself past your folds, giving a quiet warning before he inserts himself into you.

You let out a mix of a gasp and a moan, wrapping your legs around him in an attempt to push him deeper. "Shit, angel." He mumbles as he does go a bit deeper in you, thrusting ever so slowly.

“Squeezing around me so tight, yeah? This - fuck - pussy was just made for me, wasn’t it?” He asks, knowing you’re too fucked out to respond with anything more then nods and moans.

“Good girl. Taking me so well, yeah?” He asks, a hand snaking through between your bodies, finding your clit and his fingers rubbing small circles on it. “Could stay here forever, y’know? Just live right here with you..”

You don't hear most of his incoherent rambles except for one more thing: a very soft "I love you."

"Lip, 'm close." You signal as you run a hand through his hair. He continues rubbing circles on your clit, as he buries his face in your neck. "Let go f'me, sweetness." He pleads softly.

You give in, your climax succeeding as you sigh into the mattress. He doesn't last long after that, spilling into you before pulling out swiftly.

Neither of you say anything until you remember what he mumbled. An I love you. "Did you mean it? When you.. you said you loved me?" You question. You're really asking if he meant as a friend or as more.

He looks over at you. "I've been in love with you since I met you, sweetness, of course I meant it.” He answers. You stare at him for a moment before you kiss him again.

Things definetly couldn’t be the same between you two.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my lip gallagher masterlist here for more fanfics!

- mae

[thatfanficstuff]

Breakeven - Jonas Taylor (The Meg)

Pairing: Jonas Taylor x Reader

Warnings: nope

A/N: Inspired by the song Breakeven by The Script. I was having trouble finding a Jonas Taylor fic that fit what I was looking for so I wrote one. The story of my life. Enjoy.

Jonas Taylor’s gaze swept around the flurry of activity surrounding him. He’d just left the infirmary after making certain his sister would recover from the injury she’d received when her sub had been attacked. He needed a shower and a change of clothes but he was too busy searching the halls of Mana One for your familiar silhouette. He hadn’t seen you since the two of you divorced and now that he was so close to you, he felt the need to find you. To assure himself that you were still whole and alive.

Finally, he caught a glimpse of you as you conferred with Suyin, both your heads bent over a tablet as she showed you something. He sucked in a breath as his chest tightened, an odd mix of longing and bitterness churning inside him. He shoved down the rush of emotions threatening to surface, schooling his features into his normal flat expression. He had to appear unaffected. He couldn’t let you know how affected he was by your presence, how the pain clawed at his insides.

“I thought you were going to clean up,” Mac’s voice interrupted. His friend followed his line of sight to see you. “Oh.” He dropped a hand on Jonas’ shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Jonas shrugged him off and gave him a tight smile. “Got sidetracked is all.”

“I see that,” Mac agreed as he put his hands in his pockets and followed Jonas as he walked away from you. They walked in silence for a bit, steps echoing in the quiet hall.

Jonas licked his lips. “Seems like she’s doing okay after everything.” Bitterness colored his words though he’d tried to hide it. He hated that he was torn in pieces, aimless without you and you didn’t seem bothered in the least. It was bullshit.

Mac studied him for a moment. “She’s keeping her head up.” He grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him into a room. “Let’s have a drink. You look like you could use one.”

Jonas nodded and took a seat in what was clearly Mac’s private room. He sipped at his drink as he watched Mac contemplate something. Jonas knew the look well and waited for his friend to come to a decision.

“You’ve got it all wrong you know,” Mac finally said with a furrowed brow.

“What have I got wrong?”

“It killed her to file those papers.”

Jonas snorted. “I find that unlikely. No, she thought I was crazy just like everyone else and left rather than stand by me like she should have.”

Mac shook his head. “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything, but I’m tired of holding her while she cries over you. I love her like a sister, but she needs you.”

“Then why the hell did she leave?” Jonas tried and failed to mask the desperation in his words.

“Because,” Mac hesitated, swirling his drink as if searching for courage in its depths. “Because the old bastard gave her an ultimatum.” Jonas knew instantly he must be talking about your father. None of you liked him but he was too wealthy and powerful to just write off. Mac sighed, regret contorting his features. “He threatened dire consequences, Jonas. Said you’d suffer if she didn’t cut ties.”

A heavy weight settled in his stomach. If your father wasn’t already dead, he’d kill him for threatening you. For making you too scared to come to him. “Threatened? What did he do, Mac?” His grip tightened on his glass, knuckles whitening.

“He didn’t want your presence staining his good name as he put it. Said he’d use all of his resources to make sure you were broke and homeless with no where to turn. He told her there wasn’t a corner of the Earth where you would be safe from him. Then he told her if she tried to run with you, he’d make certain she’d never see you alive again.” Mac’s voice was little more than a whisper by the end, heavy with the burden of the knowledge he’d been carrying.

A cold shock washed over Jonas, followed by a surge of anger that left him breathless. Your father hadn’t threatened you. He’d threatened Jonas. You’d shattered your entire world to protect him. His breath came heavy and he placed his glass on the table in front of him, afraid he’d drop it otherwise. He ran a hand over his head. “Damn it.” How hadn’t he seen this? Why hadn’t he demanded more answers from you? Why had he just assumed you were abandoning him like everyone else? “I can’t believe she never—”

“Hey,” Mac interrupted gently, placing a hand on Jonas’s back. “You didn’t know because she didn’t want you to. She walked away to keep you safe.”

“Safe,” Jonas echoed, the word bitter on his tongue. The truth of your motivations stripped him of his resentment, leaving a raw, gaping wound in its wake.

“Jonas,” Mac’s voice softened, “she loved you enough to let you go but she was far from okay with it. It tore her up. Still does.”

He clenched his jaw as he processed everything he’d just been told. If you loved him that much, maybe there was still hope for the two of you.

You’d taken to hiding in your room since Jonas arrived, leaving only when you were made to. You hadn’t even been to see Lori in the infirmary afraid you’d run into him there. Mac had been trying to get you to tell Jonas the truth since your father died, but you just couldn’t. He’d hate you for breaking his heart, regardless of the circumstances. It was better to just let him move on without you. For him to find his happiness even if you never did.

A knock at your door reverberated through the room. You opened it without checking who was on the other side. An action you regrated instantly when you found yourself face to face with the love of your life. “Jonas,” you whispered, your voice breaking on the word.

He greeted you in return before pushing gently past you and stepping into the room. You shut the door behind him, your hand trembling against the cold steel. “I didn’t expect—”

“Neither did I,” he said cutting you off. “Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?”

The words hung between you as your eyes searched his, wondering why he suddenly wanted to have this conversation when he’d never asked at the time. “Jonas, I…” you trailed off not certain what you could say to get him to possibly forgive you.

“Please,” he pleaded as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I heard things about your father, about threats. I need to hear it from you. The truth.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Your gaze faltered, drifting away before finding its way back to him. “I…you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he said, stepping closer.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your heart raced, pounding against your ribs. “My father threatened everything. I never wanted to leave you but if I stayed, if I fought for you…He might have been bluffing, but I couldn’t risk it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you ask for my help?”

A laugh escaped you then, a cold, bitter sound of disbelief. “How could I, Jonas? Threats from my father aside, you’d been pushing me away since the day everything went to shit. I tried to help you, tried to back you and you didn’t want it. When my father gave me the ultimatum, I figured it wouldn’t matter much to you anyway. It didn’t matter if I was broken, as long as you were okay.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him as hot tears trailed down your cheeks. Strong hands gripped yours and you sucked in a breath in surprise. “Listen to me,” Jonas ordered. “I always knew you deserved better than me and I didn’t want to drag you down with me, but nothing, absolutely nothing would ever make me quit loving you.”

When you said nothing he squeezed your hands. “Say you believe me,” he whispered. “Believe that in a million moments, in a million lifetimes, I would always choose you.”

Your eyes found his, wanting to believe his words. Gods you wanted to. And as he gazed at you full of hope and love and desperation, you found that you did. Could the two of you really have another chance? With your father and his threats gone from your lives, what was stopping you?

Jonas leaned forward suddenly and you barely had time to catch your breath before his lips met yours in a kiss that was both an apology and a plea. His hands moved to cup your face tenderly as if you could vanish in an instant.

Pulling back just enough to meet your stunned gaze, Jonas ran his eyes over your face as if memorizing your features. Whatever he found must have made him happy as a wide grin curled his lips. “Marry me,” he breathed. “Be mine again. Forever this time.”

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable. Fresh tears trailed the paths of the previous ones but this time they were happy, full of love and hope. You brushed your lips against his as you whispered his name.

He kissed you again, needy and wanting, before resting his forehead against yours. “Is that a yes?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, baby, that’s a yes.”

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. He buried his face into the curve of your neck and inhaled your still familiar scent. For the first time since you walked out the door all those years ago, he felt whole.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered against his skin.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. As long as you never leave my side again everything will be fine.” As he pressed a kiss to your temple, there was a knock on your door.

“Go away,” he called, making you laugh.

There was a stretch of silence before you heard Mac say your name in question which only made you laugh harder. You pulled away to answer your door, Jonas moving with you. Mac looked between the two of you, before grinning like an idiot. “I’m sorry to interrupt this, like you have no idea how sorry, but we’ve got a meeting to talk about the meg.”

You nodded and moved to follow him before Jonas grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “We’ll be there in a minute,” his rough voice said as he shut the door in Mac’s face.

When he turned you and pressed you against the door as he kissed you deeply, all your protests disappeared. This is where you belonged. Right here with your husband as if the last five years had never happened. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back and wondered if they really needed you to tell them to kill the giant shark before it ate everyone. Surely they could figure that out on their own.

[thewildbelladonna]

Gorgeous Stevie photographed at a press conference in Cleveland, Ohio, August 5th, 1978.

[thatfrenchacademic]

OK so about this "34, unmarried and childless" article about Taylor Swift. Let me tell you about Scam Academia.

TL;DR: some mediocre dude had a half baked opinio nabout Taylor Swift that everyone hated, but like Mother Nature I let nothing go to waste.

Here is the take you have not heard yet, about this opinion: this guy is actually a good case study on how to develop your academic literacy, aka how to recognize a true academic from a scammer who presents themselves as an academic, but is just a crook. In a world of pseudoscience and pretend experts that have enough resources to organize their flat earth conference, let me walk you through the world of Scam Academic, where for a few thousand dollars, you too can claim to be a researcher with a doctorate! Follow me down a rabbit hole that I hate with my whole heart!

Preamble: I have zero skin in the TS game. I don't get the hype, the lore, the obsession with those 2000s bracelet or dissecting every single line or every single song.

But then. Some guy had to write an op-ed stating Taylor Swift was not a good role model for girls ("in the US and beyond"), and it is a terrible take on so many level, but here is the thing. Whiny conservative think-pieces about highly successful women who should get back to the kitchen and think of the children are nothing new. But this one is different.

This one is fucking terribly written. It's just an abysmally written blog post. Genuinely one of the worst thing I have ever read, and I read hundreds of undergrad essays every year for a living. It contradicts its own arguments in every paragraph. It over-explains concepts like it's a high school essay and he's trying to meet the word count. It says "this is a valid question worth asking" but does not actually explain why it is worth asking. It is so, so, so bad.

Conservative writers are usually more the "high brow, drowning you in grandstanding" kind of writers. They are, usually, good technical writers - it's the one thing that helps make their talking point sound legit and palatable. So an abysmally bad conservative writer? Ok, I am intrigued.

The author is one John Mac Ghlionn. I look up the guy on Google and...

Oh.

Oh no, John.

Spewing conservative bullshit at women AND a researcher? You're in my turf now, John. You could have continued to cover UFC Pillow Fight Championships, or alien technology and other riveting subjects, but you had try to connect two brain cells to argue a thing, and slap "researcher" on top of it. Now I'm offended, as a researcher.

1. I am sorry, researcher WHERE?

Ok so if one is a "researcher", it means one conduct "research". and contrary to what backyard conspiracy theorists think, "researcher" is an actual job. It is an actual professional occupation. You get an actual contract, and you are paid actual money. By an actual employer: public (University), private (Think tank, private company), or a mix of both (at Unviersity, but on a privately funded project, for example).

So where does our John Mc Ghlionn work?

Well. Nowhere, as far as I can tell.

John does not list any affiliation. Usually, when they write, academics will state their exact position (Researcher, Doctoral Researcher, Associate Professor, Chief Engineer, Head of Department, Research Director...) and where they work. For example:

That's what it is supposed to look like.

But John? Nope, no affiliation anywhere, on anything he ever published. That's a pretty massive read flag. Research takes ressources: at the very least, time and access to database and documentation, even in social sciences in humanities. You may not need a lab, but you sure as hell need money and full access to JStore at least.

So I thought he was just one of these "I google therefore I research" kind of dude. But then, out of nowhere:

I am sorry. He has a WHAT.

2. I am sorry, a Doctorate from WHERE?

So. One thing to claim to be a researcher when you are just a professional yapper. Another to claim a DIPLOMA.

And not any diploma. A doctorate.

Let's pause. "Doctorate" is actually a really broad umbrella term of all doctoral-level degrees. The most famous (and most prestigious, for better and worse) is the PhD, but a PhD is technically just one of many Research Doctorate of, theoretically, the same level (cue this helpful reddit post). A second category of doctorates are the Applied Doctorates, and while there is Discourse on where they sit vis-a-vis PhD, the easiest is to consider that they are not research-oriented. They are hands-on, practice-oriented degrees. For example: you can practice medicine with an MD. You don't need a PhD. You can still call yourself a doctor, though.

Alright, so which of these does our friend Johnnie has? Or is currently enrolled in? And in which University?

You will notice that John does not go by "John Mac Ghlionn PhD" or even "Dr John Mac Ghlionn", when you just KNOW he is the sort of person that would but that shit everywhere. And no shade here, because I, for one, do put that shit everywhere. Maybe he is just currently enrolled in a program and has not graduated. Fair.

Since John does not list affiliation, I had to switch from academic to internet sleuth, and dig out this article:

But we learn that in 2021, John was a "PhD Scholar" in "Parkmore Institute". "PhD Scholar" is not a title I am sued to, but it's also not raising any red flag: ongoing PhD researchers can be "PhD students", "PhD fellows", "PhD researchers"... It varies from country to country and from institution to institution, so why not "PhD Scholar".

Let's check out the Parkmore Institute.

Ok, they are not a traditional university, but they appear to be more of a postgraduate institution: offering only higher level degrees, not undergrad courses. Once again, not necessarily a red flag. They are usually very heavily research focused, and embrace the "research" side of academia more than the "teaching" side. In Germany, the Max Planck Institutes are research-only institutions who deliver PhDs. They conduct cutting edge research, in part because their researchers rarely have to spend time teaching.

But that is NOT the Parkmore Institute. First of all, let's see what programs they offer:

None of them are legit.

And I mean, none of them are recognize as even Applied/Professional Doctorate by the National Science Foundation (US based). And while a PhD in Human sexuality would be perfectly valid, but I'm going to on a limb and say I have some serious doubts about "Bodymind Healing" as an academic field.

These are not legit academic degrees.

What they are, is an excellent money-making opportunity for anyone working at the Parkmore institute. Students will pay, at the very least:

And 60% of this goes to their " faculty mentor". The Parkmore institute provides no research fund, no desk or office space (they are entirely digital), no access to any resources or library, not even a Zoom account. There is also no mention of any timeline: how long a PhD take to complete? Who knows. 6 months ? A year ? 5 years? What are the requirements to graduate ? Who knows ! And I would need to pay $200 to get in touch with them, so I sure as fuck won't know any time soon!

But let's get back to our friend John. Remember that he stated, in that 2021 publication, he was a "PhD Scholar" at Parkmore ? Well that's a shame because Parkmore does not deliver PhDs. Ain't that a bitch.

ALSO. Parkmore helpfully has page with all their Doctoral Recipients! And guess who is NOT HERE ! That's right, our Johnnie !

How can this be ? Well, three possibilities:

John is still not done with a PhD. After 4 years ? In a crank university where I am pretty sure I can submit the first draft of a litt review and graduate ? Nah

John never completed the thing. Boo, that would mean that John is lying, when he says he has a doctorate. Bad, bad.

John did graduate, and obtained his doctorate in [scrolls back to check] psychosocial studies, and then was not put on the website or was withdrawn some time before today, as Parkmore institute ended their affiliation with him, as per this bit in their application form

A shame, really. If John had been affiliated with the Parkmore Institute, it would give a shred of legitimacy to anything he writes to anyone just skimming.

Now, I would love to get in touch with the Parkmore Institute and ask to see John's doctoral work, which they DO have, since the application for also has this very interesting section:

(definitely very legit, very normal).

But I am not sure how I would even phrase that request without transparently going

"hey, would love to see what bullshit research is being done over there, since one of your graduate decided to go all Handmaid's tale for the last 2 years".

If anyone feels like sending that email, I am begging you to keep me in the loop.

3. Back up, back up, what's up with that article?

Remember the article where he was listed as a "PhD Fellow"?

Well, about that... No. Welcome to the world of predatory publishing, one more cog in the Bullshit Academic ecosystem.

First: not at article. It's a "commentary". Could be worth something ia good journal, but still would not be a piece of research. But that is the least of its sins.

Its sins are being published in a journal called "Sociology and Criminology-Open Access", by a publisher called "Longdom". Longdom publishing has a bunch of journals on a lot o different fields, with the particularly of being predatory; they will publish absolutely anything you send them, as long as you pay their Article Processing Charges:

There are entire lists of Predatory journals on the web, you can find on here and another here , Longdom Publishing is in both.

This is how John can publish this last minute, Redbull-and-weed-induced essay in an actual journal, with an abstract that, I kid you not, finishes with "Please find the paper attached." He slapped together a shitty essay about people in India are poorer and therefore more likely to exhibit psychopathic traits and therefore engage in corruption, purely base on vibes. It does not even deserve be given any consideration, not even to be debunked. There is nothing to be debunked. This would be a failing grade for a 1st year intro class.

CONCLUSION

On the surface, John Mac Ghlionn is the poster boy of failed edgelords who really wish they were Jordan Peterson, but unfortunately are just Doug, the guy for 10th grade who failed the Literature class and decided it was because litterature was too woke today anyway.

Beneath the surface, John is a case study in Scam Academia, and the proof that no matter how bad actual academia is, Scam Academia can always get worse.

A quick checklist to go through whenever someone claims be a researcher, an academic, a fellow, a doctor, a PhD or anything of the sort:

What is their affiliation? Is this a legitimate organization?

Do they have a PhD? Another doctorate degree? From where?

Have they published ? Where is it published?

[forever-rogue]

if i may. Dad!Nurse! Steve Harrington where his little girl is sick with the flu and crying for her dad to make it better and he does everything to help and is all worried and loving 🥺🥺

AN | Okay but no; nurse dad Steve to the rescue🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve Harrington could handle this. 

Totally. Absolutely. No doubt about it.

He worked in the ER and constantly handled a myriad of emergencies and situations that had him thinking and needing to use his wits and keep his cool. So…realistically he could handle just about anything.

But he was terrified of the idea of having to watch your daughter alone for the weekend. Despite his assurances that he could manage (he could kick himself for being so stupid), he suddenly felt so unsure and nervous. You had a weekend work conference to go to that would keep you aware for a whole two and half days. You’d been reluctant to leave your husband and your daughter, but he insisted that he’d manage, that he didn’t want you to miss out the conference. And so you’d accepted what he said and left. 

Now Steve was home alone with his four-year-old daughter. Fuck. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He’d managed to survive the first alone without any issues. These were his days off, so he was able to be home and tend to the house along with his daughter. She’d been at preschool until the mid-afternoon, and once he’d picked her up the two of them were having fun. He really did adore his daughter, and more than anything he was nervous he’d somehow mess something up. He wouldn’t; you knew he wouldn’t - he was an amazing, doting, loving father. 

He’d even made her favorites for dinner, which currently consisted of dino nuggets and mac and cheese and the two of them watched a movie before it was her bed time. Things had gone off without a hitch; he was sure he could use that to his advantage when he asked about seriously trying for baby number two. Look honey, I kept her alive for three days all by myself - want to have that next baby? Yeah, something like that would work anyway. 

He was reading in bed, missing you and the late night conversations the two of you always had. But it wouldn’t be terrible - he could handle two nights on his own. Even if it really sucked. Any worry or self-pity he had was quickly wiped away when he heard the tiny knock at his bedroom door. He’d left it half open and looked up to find his daughter looking at him, the same big, soft brown eyes he had staring back at him.

“Daddy,” she poked her head into the room, looking at him nervously. Steve dogeared his page and put the book on his bedside table before motioning for her to come in. The small girl padded into the room and he instantly spotted the tear tracks on her cheeks as she sniffled.

“Camila,” he cooed softly, moving so he could easily pick her up. She ran the rest of the way over to him, throwing herself into his arms. He picked her up and settled her in his lap, tenderly wiping away the few remaining tears, “oh baby. What’s wrong, Cami girl?”

“I don’t feel good,” she pouted, her bottom lip trembling with effort as she tried not to cry again. She reminded him so much of you, how resilient and independent you were. She hated asking for help, wanting to do as much for herself as a four-year-old could, so he knew something was up if she was coming to him late at night when she should have been sleeping.

“Oh sweetheart,” he brushed a few rogue curls out of her face before kissing her chubby little cheeks, “what’s wrong? Why don’t you feel good?”

“My tummy hurts,” she frowned, “and I feel all cold, even with my blankies.”

As Steve listened to her, he placed his hand against her forehead and frowned when he felt how warm she was. He paused for a moment and inwardly groaned when he remembered that the flu was going around right. It usually disproportionately affected children, especially school age children. And here she was, going to preschool almost every day with a bunch of other kids. She’d had her flu shot, but there was only so much that would do and so many precautions they could take. 

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, my love,” he pulled her onto his chest so he could hold her properly. Cami buried her little face into the crook of his neck as he soothingly rubbed her back up and down, “I’ll take care of you, okay? Daddy’s got you.”

“Okay,” she sounded so feeble and meek that it broke his heart. He wished he was the one having to experience this, not his baby girl.

“I’m going to get up and get a few things, okay?” he whispered softly, “you can sleep in bed with me tonight, does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” he delicately moved her so she was on the side of the bed that you normally occupied, covering her with the soft blankets, “can you bring me Peter?”

Peter was the stuffed bunny that she’d had since the day she was born. She’d gotten it from her aunt Robin and loved it more than any other toy, “of course. I’ll be back in a few minutes, Camila.”

She murmured something, burrowing her face into the pillow, seeking some sort of relief. Steve looked at her for a moment and shook his head sadly; this was his baby girl and she was sick. He couldn’t do anything about it except try to make her feel better while she fought it off. 

He went down the hall to her bedroom and grabbed her bunny before stopping in the bathroom and grabbing a thermometer, some acetaminophen, and then made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a few water bottles to bring with him but paused before leaving, staring at the phone. Before he thought too much of it, he grabbed the cordless headset and dialed the hotel room number you’d given him. He hoped you weren’t sleeping yet; he didn’t have to wake you on top of it all.

It rang a few times before he sighed in relief when he heard your soft voice, “hello?”

“Hi angel,” he ran a hand over his tired face, smiling when he heard your little sigh of happiness, “did I wake you honey?”

“Hey my love,” you’d only begin for the day but you already missed him and Camila more than you cared to admit, “I just got out of the shower. Stevie…I miss you.”

“I miss you more than you can ever know,” he admitted with a warm chuckle, “god, it’s been less than a day and I feel so lost without you.”

“I’ll be home soon,” you promised, your heart clenching softly at the realization of just how much you missed the two of them, “what’s wrong, love?”

“It’s Cami,” he admitted after a few moments of tangible silence, “she woke up and said she’s not feeling good. I think she’s got the flu, I was just about to take her temperature and see if I can make it so she can at least get some sleep.”

“Oh no,” your maternal instinct immediately ramped up; you wished you were home with the two of them, “poor little thing. Do you want-”

“No, no, no honey,” he immediately shook his head as if you were there, “I don’t want you to worry, or jump on a plane to come home. I just wanted to let you know, but I’ll take care of our baby.”

“I know you will,” you laughed softly, “I don’t think there’s anyone I’d trust more. If anything changes or you need me…let me know. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he promised, “I also just wanted to hear your voice…”

“Such a sap, Stevie,” you teased, but honestly? You missed his - all of him - too. The two of you were such suckers for each other, “it’s not too much longer. I’ll let you go, okay? Try and get some rest, there’s no use worrying about something we can’t change - I know you’ll take good care of her. I love you both so much. Tell Cami I said hi, yeah?”

“Of course,” he promised softly, “I will. I love you too, honey. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed, “good night, Stevie.”

He returned the sentiment before hanging up the phone and setting it down with a small sigh. He felt better after talking to you, but he still worried about his daughter; he was always a worrier. He couldn’t help it, it was just a part of who he was.

He gathered up the supplies he had gathered before heading back to his bedroom. When he quietly popped inside, he was relieved to see that Cami had fallen asleep. Even if it wasn’t for long, he wanted her to be able to get some rest. Steve placed Peter the bunny next to her so when she woke up she’d have him. The rest of his supplies went on the bedside table. 

He gently climbed back into bed, doing his best not to disturb the small girl and snuggled up next to her. Realistically he knew that he should be able to sleep just fine and she would wake him up if and when she needed him. He also knew that this would be a sleepless night for him. Camila had never really been sick before and while he was used to dealing with sick children at work, it felt different now that it was his daughter. It felt horrible. 

Exhaling softly, he tenderly brushed her hair out of her face before grabbing his book to read. Might as well do something with his time, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Daddy?” he’d noticed her stirring and was already prepared to give her his full attention. He glanced at the alarm clock and saw that it was nearing four in the morning. His poor baby girl. She turned around so she could look at him, her eyes dazy and face slightly flushed, “‘m thirsty, Daddy.”

“I’ve got some water for you, Cami girl,” he cracked the top of one of the water bottles before carefully handing it to her. She took it in both hands and chugged it down, finishing almost the entire bottle before Steve slowed her down, “slowly sweetheart, you don’t want to make your tummy ache from too much at once.”

“Okay,” she handed him back the bottle before she realized that Peter was next to her. She squealed in delight before grabbing the stuffed bunny and clutched it tightly to her chest, “you brought Peter!”

“He was missing you too,” he smiled gently at her, “can I take your temperature? And I’ve got something to help you feel a little better.”

“I’m cold,” she pouted as he grabbed the thermometer and stuck it in her mouth. She already knew the drill and had opened her mouth. Steve tutted at her lightly, already planning to grab her a few more blankets that should help. He pulled the thermometer out when it beeped and read the little screen. 101. A mild fever but nothing too bad, fortunately. 

“You’ve got a little bit of a fever,” he grabbed the acetaminophen and water bottle, “this will help and I’ll get you some more blankets today? I want you to rest and your fever should break soon.”

“I miss Mommy,” she pouted as he popped the medicine into her mouth and handed her the water to finish off. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Steve; oh no, she absolutely adored her father almost more than anything, but she loved you too. She was used to having both of you around. 

“Me too,” he agreed, “I talked to Mommy while you were sleeping and she said to tell you hello and that she loves you. But she’ll be home soon.”

“Good,” she gave him a firm little nod, “can we have dino nuggets later?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her lightly before kissing the side of her head, “we’ll see, Cami. Right now I want you to try and get some sleep, okay? Once you’re up we can see about getting some nuggets and a nice warm bath.”

“Will you stay with me?” she looked at him with big, soft doe eyes and he nodded. As if there was anywhere he would rather be. 

“I will,” he helped to tuck her back under the covers, making sure Peter was with her, “I’m going to grab a few more blankets and I’ll be right back.”

She was already fast asleep by the time Steve made it back with a new load of blankets. He bundled her up as best as he could, hoping her fever would break soon. All he could do was keep an eye on her wait. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next two days passed in a much smoother manner than that first night. Cami was about to sleep off her fever and slowly began to feel better with each passing hour. Of course, it probably didn’t hurt that he was indulging her every whim and fancy to the best of his ability. He wouldn’t call his daughter spoiled…she just wasn’t told no very often. But on the flipside, she rarely asked for things and was always polite and kind to everyone. She was a good kid, after all.

But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t more than ready for you to come home. He was practically counting down the hours - you were too. You’d been a little sneaky and told him that you’d be home a few hours later than you really would be, wanting to come home and surprise the two of you. 

When you did, when you finally made it home and let yourself into the house as quietly as you could, you found the two of them at the kitchen table, eating exactly what you expected - man n cheese and dinosaur nuggets. It was such a simple but beautiful sight that melted your heart.

“Hello my loves,” you whispered as you set your bag down. Both of them turned to look at you, eyes widening in excitement before rushing over to you. 

“Mommy!” 

“Sweetheart,” felt a small pair of arms wrapped around your legs and another pair of arms around your shoulders as your two favorite people enveloped you with love, “you’re home early!”

“Surprise,” you leaned in and kissed him softly, wishing you could have more, more, more but remembering that your daughter was still right there. You’d have all the time with him later, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispered in return before picking up Cami and balancing her on his hip so she could get a kiss too. You brushed her rogue, wild curls out of her face before pressing big kisses to her cheeks.

“Hi Cami girl,” she looked so happy to see it that it made your heart melt, “I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Daddy took good care of you, huh?”

“Mhmm,” she grinned happily, “we even got to stay up and watch princess movies!”

“Oh you did, huh?” you looked at your husband, who gave you a sheepish smile accompanied with a shrug that said what can you do? You touched his cheek affectionately, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, my little love, and I’m glad you took such good care of her, my love.”

“Do you want some nuggies, Mommy?” she asked excitedly and you couldn’t turn down that adorable face, “we made lots!’

“I couldn’t think of anything better.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve was already in bed, eagerly waiting for you as you finished your little night time routine. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d miss just sleeping next to you. But then you appeared, all big smiles, soft eyes, and cozy pajamas that consisted of a pair of old shorts and one of his sweaters. It was easily his favorite sight in the entire world. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you playfully rolled your eyes before walking over to him, taking the outstretched hand that he offered you. He threaded your fingers together before pulling you into his lap. He leaned against the headboard as you straddled his waist and rested against his bent legs, “god, I missed you so much. And you were only gone for three days.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted, reaching over and gently tracing along some of his freckles. You liked mapping them out with your fingers, and even more so with your lips, “next time there’s a conference or anything that requires me to be gone, I’m bringing you both.”

“Same here,” he laughed softly, taking your hand and bringing your hand to his lips and reverently kissing your palm, “three days was too long.”

“But at least I know that the two of you are able to survive without me,” you teased and a pretty flush of pink rose up in his cheeks, “you did great, Stevie. Seriously.”

“I will admit that I was a little nervous,” he confessed quietly as you giggled at him, “it’s a lot of pressure taking care of a young, sick kid on your own!”

“I know,” you acknowledged, “but you did wonderfully.”

He hummed in content as the two of you looked at each all starred-eyed before exchanging soft, sweet kisses. He pulled back after a few moments and you could see that there was something on his mind. You tutted lightly before putting a finger under his chin and turning his face up to yours, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh..”

“Hey,” he gently squeezed your side as you squirmed in grasp, “Cami’s in preschool now, and we’ve discovered that I can manage a kid on my own for days…I-I guess I’m just kind of wondering what your thoughts are about trying for that second kid?”

Your face lit up and Steve took that as a good sign. You were silent for a moment before reaching for his hand and settling it on your tummy, “how about in like seven months?”

“Oh,” his eyebrows rose in confusion. It took him a second to process but he nodded; it was you that was doing all the hard work realistically. He could easily hold off on trying for a while, “okay, angel. We’ll start trying in the new year.”

“Stevie,” you were laughing now; he was so smart and so wonderful, but he was so oblivious at times, “I didn’t mean…waiting. I meant…how would you feel about meeting your new daughter or son in seven months?”

“I…what?” his mouth opened and closed a few times and then it hit him, “you’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed softly and his whole expression practically melted into heart eyes and a big lovesick smile, “I found out a few weeks ago…I’ve just been wanting for the perfect opportunity to tell you. And I guess now is as good of a time as any. Surprise, my love!”

“Wow,” he exhaled shakily before laughing you into his chest and kissing you softly, “what a perfect surprise. That’s…fuck, that’s wonderful. I love you so much. You, Cami, and the new baby.”

“Blob Harrington number two,” you teased, causing him to groan softly. You’d referred to Cami as Blob throughout most of your pregnancy because she just looks like a blob! He nudged his nose with his before brushing his lips over yours again, “I love you too, Steve. So, so much.”

“Oh my clumsy girl,” affectionate fondness laced his words, “I’m going to be thoroughly outnumbered. Three girls against me? Unfair.”

“How do you know it’s gonna be a girl?”

“I just know,” he insisted cheekily, “it’ll be a girl.”

“Oh,” you stook out your tongue at him, “wanna bet on it? I say it’s a boy.”

“You’re on,” he held out his hand, “it’s a girl. Terms of winning to be determined.”

“Just…don’t ruin it for yourself or me this time,” he had accidentally spilled the beans with Cami, not that you minded, “so no close looks for you at ultrasounds.”

“I’ll accept your terms,” he agreed as you shook his hand, “I love you, angel.”

“I love you more, Steve.”

“Impossible.”

[37sommz-archive]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | EXORDIUM.

NOW PLAYING: michaela sommers signs with alfa romeo. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼. OCTOBER 12, 2018 — Michaela Sommers has secured a one-year contract at Alfa Romeo that will see her make her Formula One debut during the 2019 season.

The 18-year-old Australian is currently racing in the Formula Two Championship and is set to be the presumed champion, a title secured after the Grand Prix in Sochi. Sommers' signing comes with a piece of historical significance. As a signed driver, guaranteed a drive in F1, she would be the first woman to compete in a Grand Prix in the 21st century, only the second after Lella Lombardi.

Despite a slew of negative press surrounding a particularly tense response to a journalist's "misogynistic" question at the beginning of the season, Sommers has turned out a stunning season for Prema Racing. Having led the Drivers' Championship since the Austrian Grand Prix in July, many have questioned why the signing has come so late considering the Australian's dominance. In a short message posted to her Twitter in August, Sommers called for fans to cease speculation as she was "carefully considering all options that best align with [her] goals and priorities".

"There is no question Michaela will secure an F1 seat for the 2019 season," said Red Bull Racing team principal Christian Horner during a press conference in Spa after the driver secured another double win. The Brit continued, "The real question is the personalities at play. She's got a lion of a manager behind her, and some opinions of her own. So, she will drive, but where and how long? That remains to be seen."

The principal's comments were brushed off by Sommers who joked, "We still listen to Christian Horner?" in the media pen at Monza the following weekend. The response drew amused chuckles from George Russell and Alex Albon - both of whom have yet to secure F1 seats for 2019 - as well as members of the media.

Newly appointed Alfa Romeo Racing team boss, Fred Vasseur, is more than pleased with the signing stating, "It is always good to add a new driver to the lineup. Mickey is so eager to learn and we are positive she will produce good results with the senior guidance of Raikonnen - who she has worked with previously as a Ferrari Reserve."

While many have taken to social media to voice their support for the signing, others have questioned the timing of the historic moment. Feminist commentators have even stated that the FIA and Alfa Romeo officials should be "ashamed" of the amount of time it took to sign another woman to an F1 seat. Another point of controversy lies in an alleged clause of Sommers' contract in which the Australian is prohibited from making any "political statements that may cause agitation amongst patrons of the sport".

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀COMMENTS.

anonymous commenter: girl on the grid, we won!!!

anonymous commenter: the lengths this sport will go to in order to appease the woke leftist feminists never fails to disappoint me. shame on the fia and alfa romeo for succumbing to the pressure.

anonymous reply: mate what? she's leading the f2 championship with one race left and it's not close lmfao

anonymous commenter: proud of her for taking the high road on that horner comment. next time i need them in the boxing ring though. peace and love

anonymous commenter: foaming at the mouth to know what j*s verstappen thinks about this

✼. taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@pamacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz

@lavisenri @evie-119 @bxdbxtxh

@seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn @ginghampearlsnsweettea

@alliwantisadonut @hiireadstuff @emilyval1

@scarlettwidow3000 @anotherblackreader @sv5beehives

@mynameisangeloflife @tellybearryyyy

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Eight

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, minor references to sex, WARNING: talks about death and self-harm)

Description: Phoenix tries to rectify the missing pieces within herself, but she struggles to figure out how.

Tagged: @tonixe@chernayawidow , @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie@virgoelf-blog , @my-obsession-spn, @capricxnt @demodemo909 @boywivlove

Song: Gypsy - Fleetwood Mac

"FUCK!" Homelander yelled, the tv remote broke in his closed fist. One of the flat screen televisions in the meeting room was set to channel 8 and Starlight was all over the news. Her little video had gone viral, her resignation given, Homelander thrown under the bus, this was all out war. Homelander was fuming, Ashley was gnawing her nails down to the skin, the Deep was posted at one of the chairs around the table, Agnes was sitting a few seats down from him sipping on a cup of coffee.

And you were standing there, arms crossed, staring blankly at the screen.

You were so tired. Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from everything. Just from living really.

When was the last time you slept again?

"Okay!" Ashley squealed, "We'll fix this. We'll fix this. Please. Oh my god! Fuck!" Your eyes slid shut, her panicking died in your ears, the world silenced for a moment.

"Phoenix!" Your eyes shot open, Homelander was staring at you with a look of desperation plastered on his face. "What do we do?" Your hands tightened around your biceps and your teeth dug into your bottom lip. What do we do? More importantly, what should be done?

"We don't have time to worry about Starlight." Your voice came out hoarse, in a low whisper. The room fell quiet. "She has a loyal fan base, but they aren't as loyal as our people. I wouldn't worry about her." Homelander nodded virgorously, licking his lips. The desperation in his boyish eyes faded and what replaced it was a sharp coldness.

"You're right. We've got to find Soldier Boy."

"But we need to make a statement!" Ashley's shrill made you roll your eyes.

"Go take a fuckin' Xanax, Ashley!" You commanded, holding up an admonishing finger. Ashley's lips shut with a resounding pop and she straightened, fear crawled up her spine and glued her to the floor. "I'll talk. I know how to charm a crowd. It'll put this off until we can get shit under control." Your command came out more as a question, Homelander's jaw flicked from side to side before he nodded. "Come on Agnes." The older woman rose from the table without protest, following after your quick strides with a waddle of her own.

...

"Good Evening!" You crowned your fingers and propped them up on the podium. "I appreciate you all being here for this impromptu press conference. Given the situation, I'm sure you know there are a few things that Vought needs to address."

"Where's Homelander?" A journalist shouted from the crowd, flapping his hand above the sea of heads to get Phoenix's attention.

"Homelander is off handling more important matters." The crowd broke out in shouted questions and mixed words, journalists reaching over eachother as they attempted to flag you down. You begrudgingly pointed at a woman in the front row.

"Isn't this important? Starlight has resigned? What is the future of the Seven? Why are you up there when you're not even on the team?" It went silent as everyone waited for a response, or rather, a staccato of responses to answer a staccato of questions. You paused, thought about the significance of your next words, what they would mean. You found a camera and stared into it.

"I want to make myself very clear..." Your voice penetrated the air, the room was thick with the tone that every syllable carried. "Starlight isn't a priority. Everyday Homelander, I, and many other heroes are trying to keep you all safe. We fought overseas so that the super villain threat could be contained. I underestimated the enemy and now the super villain threat is here. Us heroes need to be doing our jobs, not starting petty battles over social media. If Starlight wants to play her games and spread her lies, slander us, she is welcome to do so. But Homelander and I are going to focus on what is important: your safety, your lives."

An intense stillness blanketed the crowd, a few camera flashes. One journalist had the gull to raise their hand, when no one else would, not after a speech like that.

"What are your thoughts on the deathes of the TNT twins? Your former colleagues?"

Good. I'm glad they're dead.

"And your friend? Crimson Countess?" Your head tilted to the other voice, you swallowed and looked down at your fingers.

"Countess wasn't my friend, and neither were the Twins." You shook your head. "Not anymore at least. Not when they turned their backs on..." You paused. Me. -- Ben. "On you. The people. Some of the strongest heroes I knew for their time, and only Noir and I remain. The others worried about their luxury condos, their ratings, movie deals, royalties. None of them cared about what really matters. I don't mourn them. I don't think I ever will."

"But what of Soldier Boy? You were there when he died, did you mourn him?"

"I-" You had to take a deep breath, the emotions that swelled in you had nearly knocked you off your feet. You cleared your throat and held back tears. "I did. I do."

Soldier Boy was still dead to you.

"Soldier Boy died so that all of us could live."

...

 🎶 So I'm back to the velvet underground.  🎶 

 🎶 Back to the floor that I love... 🎶 

Three Xanax, two blunts-going on three-and half a bottle of whiskey later, you found yourself laying on your bed in a mess of comforter and pillows. Your suit was discarded somewhere, leaving you down to nothing but your underwear. And you were just laying there, staring up at the ceiling as you smoked from a blunt and sipped from a bronze filled glass. Your record player sung in the background, mellowing out your already distant mood.

 🎶 To a room with some lace and paper flowers 🎶 

 🎶 Back to the gypsy that I was 🎶 

 🎶 To the gypsy that I was... 🎶 

What did you have?

John?

He kept you around as an extension of himself rather than as someone he cared for. You were the arms of his authority, fingers curled around your enemies with a vice grip. In reverse, he was a reflection of you in many ways, uncaring, erratic, impulsive. You knew he didn't care about you. Not truly. You weren't sure he was capable of it. Maybe with some admiration, some approval, but love was a distant thought in John's head. He only ever craved it from others. And you were more than able to provide in the past, giving pieces of yourself to John without a second thought. Now you had no more pieces left to give.

 🎶 And it all comes down to you. 🎶 

 🎶 And you know that it does when. 🎶 

 🎶 Lightening strikes maybe once maybe twice. 🎶 

Your fans?

You would rather burn them all alive, throw them in a furnace and walk away. They didn't love you. They loved the image of yourself that you fronted, but they didn't know you.

 🎶 Oh and it lights up the night. 🎶 

 🎶 And you see your gypsy (ohh, ohh) 🎶 

 🎶 You see your gypsy. 🎶 

You?

That was all you had. Herodom was a quiet life, a lonely one. But it was never about saving people or doing some good in the world. As much as Starlight thought she was making a difference, the world would never change. There would always be criminals. There would always be greedy politicans and corrupt agents of the law. The world was cold and callous and it never retreated.

And you had nothing.

You were a victim of the chaos. Vought took you in, molded you into something vile and morbid, tossed you around in a bag of salt, and hurled you into the world for their own profit.

You were an experiment.

Your lips wrapped around the end of your blunt and you took a drag. Smoke flowed from your nostrils, it floated up toward the high ceiling and you watched it swirl until it faded completely.

Your head drooped to the side and your face wrinkled as if you were about to cry, before you suppressed that urge.

 🎶 To the gypsy that remains. 🎶 

 🎶 Faces freedom, with a little fear. 🎶 

 🎶 I have no fear, and have only love. 🎶 

 🎶 And if I was a child and the child was enough. 🎶 

 🎶 Enough for me to love. 🎶 

 🎶 Enough to love. 🎶 

Through a blurry haze, your half lidded eyes spotted a figure at the open double doors leading into your bedroom. You shifted a little, squinted, then slowly sat upright.

"Ben?"

He was dressed in his full suit, arms straight at his sides.

"Hello, hot stuff." He answered casually, stepping closer. He sent you a boyish smile that reminded you of his older self, all cocky, all confident, all play, no work.

"What are you-" The blunt dropped from your hand, hitting the marble floor. "What are you doing here?" His eyes darted down your body, hovering over your naked torso a little longer than necessary before raising back to your face.

"You didn't need me?" You dropped your head, a firm hand cupped on your jaw, the touch burned into your skin and your gaze was being directed back to Ben. He felt so real. He felt solid. He felt tangible.

 🎶 She is dancing away from you now (Oooh). 🎶 

 🎶 She was just a wish, she was just a wish (ooh, ooh). 🎶 

 🎶 And her memory is all that is left for you now. 🎶 

"Am I hallucinating?" Your palms rested gently on his chest, Ben's thumb scaled your cheek and he sighed.

"No."

 🎶 You see you're a gypsy. 🎶 

"This is a dream, sweetheart."

"Of course it is," You sniffled.

"You wouldn't be able to hallucinate, even if you wanted." Another voice chimed and when you glanced over, it was Vogelbaum. "Your body can't sustain the affects of foreign substances long enough for that to happen." He was in a bloodied labcoat and his words were slightly muffled through a gas mask. Your expression lit up with panic and your head was being yanked back by Soldier Boy's hand.

"Don't pay attention to that piece of shit." Soldier Boy drew you closer with his other hand at your hip. "Just look at me."

"Why is this happening? Why am I dreaming about this?" You whispered, Ben's hand moved to cradle the back of your head.

"Because I'm the answer." You blinked at him, then tiredly moved into his body. Your arms wrapped around him and you hugged him. Ben enveloped you in return, his strong and bulky arms holding you close...

"You even smell real."

"That's what happens when you smoke a lot of dope."

"Also, the cannabis you were smoking no doubt contained traces of LSD." Vogelbaum again. You squeezed your eyes shut and Soldier Boy grunted when your arms tightened around him.

"Can he just shut up for fucks sake?" Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and he exhaled with a sigh.

"You want my advice?"

"Not really." He grabbed your shoulders and drew you away at arm's length.

"Sometimes you gotta take life by the balls, kid." You blinked at him, your head sinking toward your chest. Soldier Boy rolled his eyes before grabbing under your chin and lifting your head again. "Remember back in the day. We didn't let anybody get in our way. We owned this fuckin' place."

"Oh no." You breathed, your palms rose to your cheeks and Soldier Boy relinquished his hold on you so you could pace away from him. "It's happening. This is it. I'm having the worst mental breakdown of my life. I'm going to destroy the world."

"Only in theory." Vogelbaum piped in again, "Theoretically your body can reach temperatures bordering that of the sun and in that instance-" Soldier Boy's shield came hurtling toward him out of nowhere. The Scientist disappeared in a puff of smoke before the metal could touch him.

"I hate that guy." Soldier Boy's head tilted as he considered you. "Listen..." He emphasized with raised hands. "The only person who understands you right now is me." He stepped toward you, and you hunched in on yourself in defeat."You have me. I'm your answer."

"You're also a figment of my imagination."

"Nah, honey, I'm out there. I'm alive. Come find me."

"You want me dead out there." Soldier Boy's lips quirked up in a handsome smirk and he shook his head.

"But, sweetheart, I don't."

...

When your eyes opened, they opened slowly, the blunt had burnt out in your bed sheet and your body was sprawled out across the bed in all different directions. You blinked at the ceiling, thinking about your dream, thinking about him. The thought left a gross taste in your mouth, your stomach jumped and a weight settled in your chest.

Gosh, you wanted to die sometimes, didn't you?

What was this? What were you doing here?

Why don't you just leave and give all this up? Just like you always wanted.

Because you can't.

You were tired.

It took a few minutes of blank staring before you rose from your bed and travelled out of your room.

"God help me!" You heard a voice exclaim as you entered into the living room. It was Agnes. She made an effort to cover her gaze from your nude figure. And after all these years, she still hadn't gotten used to your ways. You squinted at her, stumbling toward the onset of the kitchen.

"What are you doing here? I told you to leave." Agnes nervously clenched and unclenched her fingers, finally lowering her hand to look at you. Your eyes connected, Agnus' wrinkles creased with a furrowed brow, with concern.

"Homelander wanted me to stay. He's worried about you." You groaned, pouring yourself another glass of whiskey and downing it back with a wince.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You poured the next glass, sipping from it as you held Agnus' expectant gaze.

"John just wants to make sure I'm on his side." You replied in a dull tone, hunching over the countertop.

"Are you?" You didn't respond. Not immediately. Your eyes flitted around the penthouse and you took in the expanse of space that had been your home for decades.

"Maybe I don't want to be on a side anymore, Agnes." You placed your glass down and stalked over to a wall that held various photos and movie posters and memories from the old days. You scanned each photo, as you had hundreds of times, with a trained eye.

"Please. Tell me what's wrong."

"Everything I do, it doesn't matter." Your eyes paused on a familiar face, and you felt a sadness engulf the entirety of your heart.

He was so good to you. Always trying to comfort you. Always at your side when you needed him.

"Do ya'maybe want to talk about it?"

"No."

You would go find him. That was final. You were sure of it. Screw everyone else. This man. He would be the one you went to. He was the one you needed. He would tell you what you needed to do and he would be genuine. Above all. He would be genuine.

"I'm heading out for a little bit, Agnes. Alone." You took quick steps toward your room.

"Wait, wh-where are you going? Homelander told me to watch you." You didn't respond, turning to close the double doors into your bedroom. At the last glimpse between the cracks, you saw her plop onto the couch with exasperation.