#X-Cell (2007)

[mutantpowerlist]

Blob - Fredrick J. "Fred" Dukes 🇺🇸

• Superhuman strength, stamina, endurance, durability, and mass • Personal gravity field

Teams: The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, Freedom Force, X-Cell, Uncanny Avengers, Horsemen of Salvation, Department X, Legionaries Movies: X:Men Origins: Wolverine (2009), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) First Appearance: X-Men #3 (Jan 1964)

[zepskies]

The Miracle Man

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x F. Reader

Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.

AN: Here’s the prequel to Code Red! (But this can also be read as stand alone.) I hope you enjoy. And just a note, remember this was circa 2007, still the era of flip phones and iPods, despite the advent of the iPhone.

Word Count: 3,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for mature talk. A kind of meet cute, insecurities, angst, breakups, hurt/comfort, sandwiches, fluff and feels.

He was a lone ranger in the Wild West. His weapon of choice?

A dirty mop.

Priestly bopped his head to the music playing from his earbuds. His iPod was tucked in his right jean pocket while he speared the mop across the floor of the sandwich shop. It was three minutes to closing time on a Saturday night, and it was his turn to clean up and lock up.

He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower, and diving face-first into his bed. But first, he just needed to kill three minutes.

Come on, come on, come oooon, he sang in his mind as the hands on his watch ticked on. While glancing down at said watch, he remembered it had been a gift from Tish for his birthday…

Three months ago. When they were still together.

Priestly heaved a sigh. What were you supposed to do with gifts from your ex that you actually liked? The gifts that made it into your everyday life, not just because they were from the person you thought you loved, but because it was actually hella practical and a nice accessory to keep on your person?

It’s just a damn watch. Don’t make it a big deal, he reminded himself. What was he supposed to do, have a ritual burning of everything Tish had ever touched?

That would take all damn night. And he definitely drew a line at his dick.

“Hello?”

The front door of the shop opened, the little bell Trucker installed chiming with too much cheer and startling Priestly out of his thoughts.

“We’re closed,” he said. But that was before he looked up, and had to pause in his mopping.

You were standing there, holding yourself in the open doorway with the cold breeze hitting your back. You were wearing a red cocktail dress and the highest black heels he’d ever seen, with your styled hair falling around your shoulders.

You were entirely too beautiful to be in this old sandwich shop, he thought. It had Priestly swallowing, frozen in time.

“Really? The sign says 10,” you pointed out. There was a level of desperation in your eyes. “Please, you’re the only place with the lights still on and I’ve been all up and down the block.” 

Blinking out of his idiotic state, Priestly looked down at his watch again. It was exactly 9:59 p.m.

Well, damn. Got me on a technicality.

He held in a sigh.

“Okay, come on in,” he waved you over. Setting down his mop, he rounded the counter and went to man the register. He gave you a minute to peruse the menu. He noted that aside from your stunning attire, you had a cell phone in your hand that clearly couldn’t fit in that little purse hanging off your shoulder, bumping along your hip.

He couldn’t help but visually trace the curves of your hips and waist, back up to the sweetheart neckline of the dress, the deeper shade of your lipstick and up to your face.

But then he felt bad for staring, so he looked up heavenward before you caught him.

Meanwhile, your eyes drifted from the menu and dipped to his chest for a moment.

“Too bad I’m not gay,” you said.

What? Priestly frowned in confusion. But following your gaze, he realized you were staring at his yellow shirt, which read in big, 70s-style letters: Be Gay & Proud, Get a Free Drink.

His lips twitched at a grin, and he looked up at you. “D’you know what you want?”

You had a smile starting to play on your lips as well. You went back to considering your choices.

“Not sure, but I’m starving. What do you recommend?” you asked.

Priestly’s lips puckered as he considered the menu he knew by heart.

“Well, if you wanna go classic, I’d do a Spicy Italian on white bread. If you wanna be adventurous, we just added the Jalapeño Buffalo Chicken Club," he said. "But, if you wanna get crazy awesome, I can put on some Zeppelin and make you something special of my own design.”

He colored that last option with a gesture of his hand, a flourish, if you will. You tilted your head at him and smiled.

“Okay. Surprise me, Sandwich Man.”

Priestly snorted while he washed his hands again. “Sounds like the lamest superhero ever.”

“With his death-defying salami summoning powers,” you quipped, with a giggle that had him smiling as well.

“Nice alliteration,” he said. And he made a show of tying his apron back on. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Your late-night hoagie is safe with me.”

You tried to stifle another laugh while he worked his magic. From bread to meats and cheeses and toppings, Priestly was a master of his craft. He had that 12” hero wrapped and sliding across the counter towards you in record time.

“I call this the ‘Miracle,’” he winked. “You’ll see why. But that’ll be $10 even.”

You nodded and turned to the purse on your hip. You opened up the little velvety thing, but your face fell when all you found was your keys, not your credit card.

“No.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You opened your purse wider and flipped through the satin insides, but you saw that it was empty. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I know I had my wallet in here…”

And then it dawned on you.

“That fucking asshole,” you growled.

Priestly’s eyes widened. “Uh…”

Your head snapped up to his. “I had a different purse picked out for tonight. You know, one that actually had my wallet in it? But my know-it-all boyfriend had the nerve to say, ‘That one’s too shiny, looks kinda cheap. This is a restaurant at the Ritz-Carlton, not a hooker hangout.’ Can you believe that?”

Priestly blinked in confusion, but he realized that in your purse shuffling, you had no way to pay for this amazing sandwich he’d just concocted.

And now, you actually had the beginnings of frustrated tears in your eyes as you took in a shuddering breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I can’t—I can’t pay for this. I don’t have my wallet… Hold on, let me see if he’ll…”

You held up a finger and started dialing manically on your phone. You held it up to your ear and waited. Your tears sprang forth anew when the line just kept ringing until it sent you to voicemail. 

“Figures,” you scoffed. “The one time I actually need this douchebag to answer, he ignores me!”

You slammed the phone down on the counter and covered your face with your hand as you sniffled. Priestly softened with sympathy. You seemed to be having a harder night than he thought.

He slid the sandwich your way, making you raise your head.

“It’s okay. This one’s on the house,” he said. “Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”

Your watery eyes met his. “Really? You don’t have to…”

“No worries,” he replied, giving you a bit of charm in his grin. “I’ll even throw in a soda. Lady’s choice.”

Your lower lip trembled, but you were able to smile. With a quiet thank you, you wiped under your eyes carefully so your mascara wouldn’t run. Then you grabbed a Coke from the machine along with your sandwich from the counter.

“Do you mind if I eat here?” you asked, gesturing at one of the tables. “I promise I won’t leave a mess. I know you’re trying to close up.”

Priestly waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

He went around the counter to take up his mop and continue where he left off in the cleaning process. But he couldn’t help but eye you every now and then. Curiosity was starting to eat him alive.

Had your boyfriend just dumped you here? Had you gone off alone? Somehow, he couldn’t see the first option happening. If you were his girlfriend, he would do his best not to let you walk away angry at him, let alone this late at night, without any money or even your ID.

“Are you coming from a party or something?” he found himself asking. You looked up from your second bite of the sandwich. You’d looked to have been truly enjoying it, uttering a moan that’d caught his attention.

“No,” you chuckled humorlessly around a mouthful of bread. “I was supposed to meet his parents. His rich, very bougie, hyper-critical parents. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that he was just like them.”

Priestly paused and leaned on his mop. He was hesitant, not wanting to disturb you while you were eating, but he was too damn hooked.

“So…what happened?” he asked. You scoffed and took another massive bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, you want to hear this? Fine,” you began. “So, I’m a stress eater by nature. Let’s just start with that.”

“Who isn’t?” Priestly supplied. Pursing your lips, you raised a black olive at him in a thank you gesture.

“But when I tell you I spent three months depriving myself to fit into this dress. No carbs, cheese, chocolate, or happiness.”

He grimaced. “That’s no way to live.”

“Exactly!” you concurred. “But I did all that so my boyfriend would have nothing to say when I finally met his parents for this dinner—to celebrate him graduating from med school.”

Priestly found himself dimming inside. Not only were you spoken for, but you were with a future doctor, no less. The only title Priestly had to his name was Sandwich Man.

“It started with the purse thing when he picked me up. Then when we get there, he keeps telling me how stuffy his dad is and how judge-y and critical his mom can be and how I’m a reflection on him,” you mocked in an impression of his voice.

“Then I find myself second-guessing every word that might come out of my mouth, and I’m too nervous to even eat the $60 plate of Chilean sea bass in front of me, and not to mention, there’s a glass of wine in my hand. I don’t even like wine!”

By now, it was all Priestly could do to keep up with your verbal spitfire. You were also gesticulating wildly with your sandwich the more worked up you got.

“I mean, I’m saying things I don’t say, and suddenly I realize that I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots for this man, I don’t even recognize myself,” you confessed. Your eyes lit up with a gleam of clarity. Your hands lowered down to the table, and after a beat, you continued eating.

“But then my boyfriend of over a year turns to me and says, ‘Why are you being so weird and frigid?’” you said. You met Priestly’s eyes. “I just, I got so mad. I wanted to choke him out with my napkin, you know?”

He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

“So instead of violence, I grabbed the glass of pinot noir, or chardon-perignon-whatever-the-fuck, and I poured it in his lap,” you concluded. “Then I walked out. And I ignored his calls. And I kept walking. Then a nice guy made me a sandwich.”

Priestly had to smile at that. He knew there was a Ritz-Carlton in the area, but that had to be almost a mile down the street. You’d walked a long way in those crazy-ass heels.

He propped his mop against a nearby table and sat down across from you. He shook his head in wonderment. And inside, your words kind of rattled him.

I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots, I don’t even recognize myself.

“You know, sometimes I really, really wish I was gay,” you said, gesturing at his shirt.

“O-Oh…really?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah, I do,” you answered. “I’m a quick study. I could learn to eat pussy.”

If he had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. He mentally fumbled for a moment before he could articulate a response.

“Well, I don’t doubt you, but it can be an acquired taste. Though I happen to like it,” he replied, grinning mostly to himself. He didn’t even think about how it might come out though.

As soon as he realized what he was saying to a perfect stranger, his eyes widened and met yours.

"Uh, sorry," he said.

But you just chortled in amusement. Your blush intensified though, along with your smile as you took a sip of your soda.

“You’re uh…you’re pretty awesome,” he said. And he meant that.

You blinked in surprise. Your lips twitched upwards, a blush rosy in your cheeks.

“Yeah?” you asked. His smile deepened.

“Yeah,” he replied. “And for the record, I know I just met you, but…I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your face softened with a certain shyness, but you smiled at him through your lashes.

“Well, I appreciate that…” you trailed, realizing you didn’t yet know his name.

“Priestly,” he offered, along with his hand across the table. You slipped your smaller hand in his and gave him your name.

Though you quirked a brow at him. “Priestly? That’s your first name?”

Now it was his turn to get a little embarrassed.

“Uh, no,” he said, his gaze falling from yours. He scratched the back of his head, under the blue mohawk.

“Oh. What is it, then?” you asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled wryly.

“I think I do, or I wouldn’t be asking,” you countered. Your smile was playful though. Disarming, even.

“It’s um, it’s Boaz,” he admitted. You tilted your head, as if swirling the name around in your head. But you didn’t say it was weird, or stupid, or too biblical. You just smiled.

“Boaz Priestly. Interesting,” you nodded. Then you wrapped up your garbage, having eaten all of your sandwich. You made sure to collect every crumb, even though he’d told you not to worry about the mess. You got up to take it to the trashcan near the door.

“How’re you getting home?” he asked.

You bit your lip. The anxiety in your eyes told him you’d been pondering that same question. You let out a deep breath.

“I guess I’ll have to walk back to the hotel, try to get a ride from my b…my ex-boyfriend. Gotta get used to saying that,” you said. “I promise I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.”

“Didn’t I tell you it was on me? Don’t worry about that,” said Priestly. “But I’ll tell you what, let me give you a ride.”

You shook your head. “Oh, thank you, but we just met, and I—”

Just then, Priestly realized how his offer sounded. He didn’t want to creep you out.

“Ah, or I can get you a cab,” he said. “I doubt you want to see that guy again tonight, do you?”

You bit your lip, smudging some of the scarlet red lipstick there. It distracted him for a moment, but he returned his gaze to your eyes.

You sighed. As much as you didn’t want to impose again, you let Priestly call you a cab. He paid for it in advance after you gave the cabbie your address. Before you got in the car, you turned to Priestly and touched his arm.

“Thank you,” you said. “I promise, I’ll come tomorrow and pay you back.”

He smiled. “You can try.”

He earned your sweet smile back, and he watched you get into the cab. He tried not to raise his hopes up, but he really did hope he’d see you tomorrow.

And yet, he should’ve known it was too good to be true.

“Maybe she got caught up at work or something,” Jen tried to console him the next day at closing, after you didn’t show up.

“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out grumpily. He continued to wipe down Table 4 of some nasty residue of mayo and pickled radish.

“You don’t know what kind of job she has,” Piper interjected. She was making a tuna salad sub on wheat for the last customer, which she then passed on to Tish at the register. “Maybe she’s in retail, or she’s in the restaurant business too—or hey, a lifeguard! This is a beach town after all.”

“Or maybe, she just played you into getting free food and a ride home,” Tish suggested, with her usual brand of cutting sarcasm. It just tended to cut a bit deeper these days, whenever it was leveled at Priestly.

The post-breakup thing had been tense and awkward for everyone, and it still hadn’t normalized just yet in their little sandwich-making ecosystem. Jen shot her friend a look though, one that told her she was being bitchy.

The problem was, she’d only voiced what Priestly was thinking anyway, deep down.

“Amazing, serendipitous things don’t happen to me, Piper,” he said. “Not anymore.” 

He continued cleaning.

Three weeks later, it happened on a Friday afternoon.

It was one of their busiest times of the week. Tish was at the register as usual, Jen was sorting through the inventory and bussing tables, and Priestly was making hero after hero like a fiend, alongside Piper. He was definitely living up to his name of Sandwich Man.

He was still able to recognize your voice near the register.

“One 12” Miracle, please,” you requested.

“Um…we don’t have that on the menu,” Tish replied. But Priestly looked over with a grin. He met your gaze, and found you smiling back at him.

Tish followed the exchange with suspicion.

“One Miracle, coming up!” Priestly called out.

He had the order ready within minutes, but he was painstaking about it, not an olive out of place. He wrapped it up nicely and walked it over to the register himself, placing it in front of you on the counter.

“Well, hi there,” he greeted.

A familiar blush spread across your face, just as endearing as he remembered. The only thing different about you so far was your clothes. No longer dressed to the nines, you were more casual in your jeans, ankle boots, and V-necked top.

In every other way, you were the same. It might’ve been making his heart trip up.

“Hi,” you said. “Got a minute, Miracle Man?”

Priestly ducked his head, hiding a more bashful smile. Before he could respond, Tish interrupted, “That’ll be $10.”

You nodded and handed her a $50 bill. She looked at you in confusion.

“The rest is a tip, for the hero makers,” you explained, glancing at both Priestly and Piper. He gave you an incredulous smile.

You little minx, he thought. He couldn’t say no if you were tipping Piper too.

But he did ask Jen to help fill in for him while he made his way around the counter to go to you. Tish just watched the scene unfold with a silent frown, like she was trying to make sense of what was happening. She always thought she’d be the first one to move on.

“Let’s talk outside. Little more privacy from the peanut gallery,” Priestly said to you, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. You spotted all the employees now watching you and Priestly closely.

You became a touch more shy as he led you out of the shop with a hand resting on the small of your back. You slipped your sandwich into a larger purse than last time. Then you looked up at him with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back here,” you said. “It got a bit…ugly, after that night.”

Priestly’s brows furrowed in concern. “Ugly?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assured him. “Lots of shouting and empty threats, then half-assed apologies. But I’m done with all that.”

Priestly considered that with a nod. “Well, good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”

You stared up at his face, and you thought he really seemed to mean that. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, not three weeks after breaking up from a year-long relationship. Even so, the night you walked out of this shop, you felt free. Like you could breathe again.

You felt like you.

So now, you leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek.

His eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at you. You smiled and grasped his hand.

“Would you maybe want to…ask me out sometime?” you asked. A nervous giggle escaped you, making him smile.

“Y-Yeah, I would. If you’re sure you want me to,” he replied. In the past, maybe he would’ve let his excitement get the best of him. He’d be trying to jump at this chance. Experience had taught him not to hope too hard though. Sometimes, getting what you wished for backfired in your face.

You squeezed his hand, earning his attention.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked. Your smile became teasing before you used his words against him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re pretty awesome. But mostly pretty.”

He had to laugh at that. Pretty was not something he’d ever been called in life. Weird, freak, try-hard goth—that was all familiar territory. His tattoos and piercings tended to bring that out in people.

But he gathered some courage and squeezed your hand back.

“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said, thumbing at your chin. His eyes met yours and got lost there for a moment. “Uh, really beautiful.”

You blushed further and bit your lower lip out of habit. It drew his gaze, and he gained a little more courage. He tilted your chin upwards, so he could find those lips easier in a kiss. Your fingers curled in the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His hand found your cheek as he angled deeper into the kiss.

Despite the chill on the air, the California sun was warm and beating down on you both.

It was the perfect day for a Miracle.

AN: How I love Priestly lol. If you liked this, let me know! 💜

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BP Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

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@waters-2567 @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 18, Unread - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count:  970

Previously On...: Bucky made all kinds of sweet suggestions for your future together.

A/N: Almost there...

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc]

After Bucky had kissed you goodbye and left for his debrief, you set about getting ready for your day. You showered and brushed your teeth, pleasantly noticing that you hadn’t vomited since last night. Maybe good cock was the cure you’d needed all this time, you thought with a laugh.

You stripped and remade your bed because, though you knew you’d probably just be getting it filthy again as soon as Bucky was back, you weren’t excited about getting back into cold, damp sheets. Maybe you should invest in one of those absorbent sex blankets you’d read about online. You could buy one for your new place!

That thought led you to open up Zillow on your laptop to browse available apartments in the general area. You didn’t want to move too far away; you both still needed to be at the Tower for work, after all. You had to admit, now that you were giving it some real thought, the idea excited you. Not just because you wanted to move in with Bucky, but because you’d be creating, for the first time in your entire life, a home of your very own, without feeling beholden to anyone for it, whether out of love or a sense of obligation. The very notion was elating. 

You were browsing through some gorgeous but ridiculously overpriced condos when you heard a phone buzz. You glanced at your screen, but it was black. Frowning, you glanced around and noticed Bucky’s cell sitting on one of your bedside tables. He must have forgotten it before he left for his meeting.

You walked over to it and glanced at the screen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the newly received message from Sam that caught your attention. It was the notification below it, informing Bucky that he had one new text message from ‘Vix <3.’

That’s not possible, you thought as you picked up the phone. I blocked her number, myself. There’s no way she should be able to text him. Against your better judgment, you typed in your birthday to unlock his phone. Biting your lip, a sudden surge of anxiety flooding your system, you navigated to his SMS app and opened up his thread with Jade. 

Your stomach soured and your blood turned to ice as you scrolled up, reading the contents of the thread. This couldn’t be possible. He wouldn’t– but yet, there it was, staring you right in the face. Fighting back a wave of nausea, you ran to the bathroom and vomited, this time having nothing to do with your stomach bug and everything to do with your heart breaking. 

You were dreaming. You had to be dreaming. But no. You read through the thread again and again, and again. There was no mistaking it. You slid down the bathroom wall to the floor, clutching the phone to your chest, but no tears came.

No, instead of falling apart, you felt your walls come back up, going so high that they merged together above you, encasing you in a dome of icy rage. Instead of sadness, you felt resolve. He had lied to your face and played you for a fool. Well, it had been for the last time. There was no coming back from this. Not ever. You’d give him no more chances to betray you. 

You were a fucking fool to have believed his pretty lies, his hollow promises. An idiot for constantly forgiving him, when it was clear, now, that he had never really loved you. Oh, he may have thought he did. But this… what you had just seen evidence of– this was not love. 

With a shaking breath, you stood up. You took screenshots of every incriminating text and sent them to yourself. You needed to move quickly so you were finished before he got back. Running to your computer, you printed out multiple copies of the screenshots then, you meticulously went through your room, collecting everything of Bucky’s that had migrated across the hall from his room to yours over the course of your relationship and crammed it all into a box. 

You found one of his precious knives under the bed, and thought about throwing it out the window, but then an idea struck you. Taking the knife, the box of stuff, and a copy of the screenshots, you opened your door and walked across the hall. You unceremoniously dumped the contents of the box into a heap in front of Bucky’s door, then, using all of your strength, rammed the knife through the wooden door, pinning the screenshots in place. Let him run face-first into the evidence of his betrayal.

Running back into your room, you grabbed your go-bag, tossing some essentials in it. You couldn’t stay in this room, not right now, after everything that had happened last night and this morning. Besides, it would be too easy for him to find you here. You needed to go somewhere where he wouldn’t think to look for you. You didn’t trust yourself right now not to claw his eyes out if you saw him. Though lord knows he would fucking deserve it.

Before you left your room, you called out to FRIDAY. “Lock my door behind me, and under no circumstances are you to let Sergeant Barnes into my room,” you told the AI.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N),” she responded.

“Oh, and FRIDAY? One more thing,” you added, “if Sergeant Barnes asks where I am, tell him ‘fucking dead to him.”

It was sickening how cheerfully the AI responded to your depressing command, promising that she would deliver the message to him, should he inquire. 

With a final look around, and a cage of ice around your heart, you closed the door to your room, to your love for Bucky, and you didn’t look back.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[astonmartingf]

BEST OF INTERVIEWS: KATARINA LOMBARDI (MERCEDES AMG)

LICENSE TO DRIVE ; f1 driver!oc x platonic! f1 grid

. . . best interview moments with katarina during her time in mercedes amg (2017-2020)

amgf i said i'm not writing but really i just miss her, every single day she's on my head actually, the amount of hcs i have in my notes about miss katarina... crazy

"What is your go to activity if you're sad?" Katarina reads the question from a random pile of papers before setting them aside at the edge of the table.

"I watch Kimi winning the 2007  championship in Brazil. To me, that was an important highlight. I was ten at the time, I felt represented as a Finnish-Italian, Kimi winning Ferrari... Good times."

"In an interview you said that you started karting when you were three." The reporter asks, as you nod your head in reply.

"Did that make your journey easier or harder as a driver?"

Katarina thinks for a moment before speaking to the microphone, "It definitely had some advantages, the journey wasn't the easiest to be here, as a female there were some hurdles that I had to wait and make space for myself. But there were definitely privileges that I was aware of, one being that I lived in Europe and there are a lot of tracks to practice, not only that but my mother also taught me a lot as a former racing driver. These can happen hand in hand, so when people discredit my achievements as a woman in motorsports by countering that I am privileged, I am aware of that. Racing is a privilege, and to see how far I've made as a woman makes me even proud of my achievements. It wasn't the easiest, but it's rewarding."

"What are the three things Katarina Lombardi can't live without?" Lewis asks, reading the question on a cut piece of paper inside the bowl.

The female tilts her head, "Maybe food? What? I could just answer things like water, food, air, or do you want personal things?"

Lewis cackles at the side, clutching his belly, "Okay, I think this is to get to know you more so maybe apart from the obvious I mean... what else? I also can't live without these three so I think they meant a personal item."

Katarina laughs, thinking once more, "My notebook, I have a journal— well multiple journals so those I would want to keep with me. Maybe my cross necklace as well, we have to remove jewelry when racing so sadly I remove it but instead of looking for my watch I want the necklace back on after races. Last would be my manager's cell phone number."

"What? That's so random." Lewis exclaims, laughing once more at her outlier response.

Katarina shakes her head, "No you don't get it. I haven't got my phone number memorized, but my manager's, I know it at the back of my head. If I'm in trouble or someone wants to ask me something I give them my manager's number, easy. Not their personal number of course, the work one but yeah, it saved me a couple of times... A lot of times actually..."

"How well does Katarina Lombardi, know about Lewis Hamilton?" Lewis reads the cue cards in front of his hands, filming another video for Mercedes.

"Not that well I'm telling you." The female whispers under her breath while playing with her own cards.

"That's not even the question yet!" Lewis steals a glance with raised brows appalled by his teammates response. "Not that well? I'm offended."

Katarina bursts into laughter, "Wait that wasn't the question? Shut up!"

Lewis stares blankly into the camera, pulling the cards closer to him, shaking his head in disappointment. "Wow... I thought we had something— I thought we were friends, and you pull this."

Katarina shakes her head in denial, "No wait! Let me explain, I thought that was the question. What are we filming today?"

"It's a quiz, look here it reads, "How well does Katarina Lombardi know about Lewis Hamilton" that's the video about."

"I thought the video was about something else, I swear believe me." Katarina shakes Lewis' arms as the older man turns away from her.

"Now you're just saying whatever you want." Katarina is left laughing, trying to console Lewis sulking at the other side of the couch.

"What do you think of the 2019 season?"

Katarina scrunched her nose, "Worst season ever."

Her reply caught other drivers off guard, Max, Sebastian, and even her own teammate Lewis turned around in confusion. Katarina shrugs, "I mean, Kimi is not in Ferrari so it's shit."

Her reply caused other reporters and journalists to laugh, "What's so funny?"

Max shakes his head, pulling the microphone to him, "You caught us there, I thought you've gone crazy, you have five, six wins and constantly on the podiums. When you said the season was the worst I was about to argue."

"I thought it had something to do with me, please, watch your words. Almost gave me a heart attack because what was so bad about the season?" Lewis adds laughing along with the others.

"Well I'm sorry, I can score points and still be sad, without Kimi who else will represent me? We all know I'll never drive for that silly horse."

The drivers turn around to face Sebastian, lips pressed in a thin line, forcing himself not to laugh, "I'm contractually not allowed to say anything but I think everyone in the grid knows that."

"What are your prospects for the upcoming season?"

Katarina grabs the microphone, thinking about giving a PR answer or one of her own, "Well, I don't have a seat for the 2021 season but I'm always available and talking to teams so, I guess we'll figure it out together."

"How is the season going on for you at Mercedes right now?"

"Well, it's still the same, you got to perform for the team, even now more since I need my portfolio to look good for the next team. I'm joking it's still fine, I'm talking to Toto and Lewis and it's all good, I do know who is replacing me so it's fun and exciting. You'll find out soon, no need to worry about me and the upcoming season, I'm still here to race for the team and hopefully the season will be good to us and for my future endeavors. Thank you."

[my-marvel]

How I'd Make The MCU: 2007's X-Men

Next movie in this alternate MCU is in 2007 with X-Men:

1. Movie open with Wolverine in a cell. Guard lets him out, letting him know someone posted his bail. Logan gets out, trying to figure out who could've done it, only to find Charles Xavier and Scott Summers waiting for him. The implication being Xavier paid his bail.

2. The lineup for this X-Men team is Xavier, Cyclops, Jean Grey, Rogue, Gambit, Storm, Beast, Iceman, Colossus, Forge, and Morph. Currently mutants are a community hiding themselves from modern society, not ready to come out into the light. In the modern day, mutants are more numerous than ever, as in the past many would have either stayed hidden for fear of persecution, killed by those who discovered their powers, or who's mutations were mundane enough to slip under the radar as circus acts or folk heroes. Charles has assembled the X-Men to be the primary public image of mutantkind, and to show the world the good mutants can bring to humanity now that their existence has become public knowledge.

3. Contradictorily, the Brotherhood of Mutants will consist of Magneto, Mystique, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Nightcrawler, Blob, Juggernaut, Sabretooth, Avalanche, Pyro, and Multiple Man. Magneto believes mutants must assert themselves on the world stage to get humanity to take them seriously. 

4. Senator Robert Kelly is trying to get the Mutant Registration Act passed through Congress, which pisses off Magneto as it would give the government an easy list of any mutant they wanted "removed." So he first uses the Brotherhood to kidnap Senator Kelly to stop the bill from passing. The X-Men go to save Kelly, but the attack only reinforces to Kelly the need to keep mutants under watch. Nightcrawler, the newest recruit of the Brotherhood, disapproves of their actions and leaves to help the X-Men.

5. Final showdown is when Magneto and the Brotherhood attack and occupy the Capital Building and the White House, declaring that mutants will not be registered and controlled like they are guns. X-Men stop and capture him, the Brotherhood is scattered, and though now the government is no longer lukewarm to mutants, the public has seen them defend America so is more or less on their side.

6. Post Credit scene is Xavier converting the X-Mansion into the Xavier Institute.

[yesterdays-xkcd]

Also no results: 1girl10000cups, 2girls(5+3i)cups, 65536girls65536cups, or 3frenchhens2turtledoves1cup.

X Girls Y Cups [Explained]

Transcript

Google results for "<x> girls <y> cups"

[There is a table with eight columns and eight rows. The cells are colored depending on the value in the cell: cells with the value 0 are clear/white, cells with values 1-9 are yellow, cells with values 10 and above are orange, and the cell with the highest value is red.]

[Above the table is the label for the columns:] Cups

[To the left the label for the rows:] Girls

[0 girls 0 cups has value 3; 0 girls 1 cup has 375; 0 girls 2 cups has 9; 1 girl 0 cups has 7; 1 girl 1 cup has 7503; 1 girl 2 cups has 2007; 1 girl 3 cups has 10; 1 girl 4 cups has 5; 1 girl 5 cups has 3; 1 girl 6 cups has 6; 1 girl 7 cups has 2; 2 girls 0 cups has 9; 2 girls 1 cup has 1,929,000; 2 girls 2 cups has 247; 2 girls 3 cups has 7; 2 girls 4 cups has 14; 2 girls 5 cups has 13; 2 girls 6 cups has 2; 2 girls 7 cups has 1; 3 girls 0 cups has 7; 3 girls 1 cup has 6335; 3 girls 2 cups has 394; 3 girls 3 cups has 34; 3 girls 4 cups has 3; 3 girls 5 cups has 2; 3 girls 6 cups has 6; 4 girls 0 cups has 3; 4 girls 1 cup has 3513; 4 girls 2 cups has 34; 4 girls 4 cups has 63; 5 girls 0 cups has 1; 5 girls 1 cup has 9; 5 girls 2 cups has 5; 5 girls 3 cups has 3; 5 girls 6 cups has 3; 6 girls 0 cups has 3; 6 girls 1 cup has 1461; 6 girls 2 cups has 1; 6 girls 3 cups has 1; 6 girls 4 cups has 1; 7 girls 0 cups has 2; 7 girls 1 cup has 19; 7 girls 2 cups has 4; 7 girls 3 cups has 2; and the rest have 0.]

[realcleverscience]

I've been interested in radical life extension since first reading some Kurzweil books around 2007, nearly 20 years ago.

At the time, when I discussed the idea most people reacted like I was insane. Sooo... really glad to see this topic getting more attention and being taken seriously now. For instance, I believe there's an x-prize now for longevity, which indicates they think these are goals we can start to realistically achieve.

That's important bc obviously humanity has *talked* about radical life extensions for literally thousands of years. When DNA was being first understood in the early 1900s, people talked about extending life. When the human genome project began in the 1990s, again we spoke about potential healthspan breakthroughs. But decades have passed with little progress, so it's understandable why even those interested in the technologies and concepts might be disillusioned. Like fusion energy, it always appeared 30 years away... forever.

However, like fusion energy, we are achieving practical steps which make it seem like those goals are actually within reach now. For instance, while we've known about genes for a hundred years now, we are only *just now* starting to edit and manipulate them.

Aging is still not fully understood, but it seems primarily to function at the cellular level - things like DNA, RNA, mitochondria, and connections and communications between cells, etc. These are complex interactions and sciences, but we are reaching a point or unprecedented control at those levels.

Additionally, what the "perpetually 30 years away" attitude also misses is that the pace of scientific advances grows faster over time. "30 years" of scientific research in the early 1900s might be closer to 10 years of research today. This applies to the growth of AI in medical advances as well. Not only are AI capabilities growing dramatically each year; those AIs are helping us to unlock knowledge, materials, and abilities in other fields as well. (As mentioned, genetic-level medical interventions are finally happening, and there's an avalanche of research and breakthroughs happening.)

So it's certainly possible that I'm wrong, and that life extension techs will always be '30 years away', and I'm failing to appreciate that lesson of history... but I think there are *very* good reasons to think that we are close to breakthroughs. Which poses an important question for society:

Do you want to get old and die like your grandparents, continually weakening and growing increasingly ill till you die at around age 90?

Personally, I'd love to halt my biological aging, improve and extend my "health-span", and to live at least an extra 50 years to explore all the new amazing thing science will produce in that time.

We can be another generation that lives and dies and is forgotten, or we can invest in research to fight back the grim reaper and bring that '30 year' window closer to fruition.

What do you want?

p.s. Yes, there are important social issues tied to this that require important discussion and policy guardrails, etc. And yes, maybe not everyone wants to live for 1,000 years (and they wouldn't have to). That said, it's very rare to find someone excited about getting older, weaker, and dying.

[shyphonics]

Salad Days, Chapter 6: Just You and Me, Punk Rock Girl

(Rodrick Heffley x reader)

chapter directory here

Light sex warning for the beginning- 18+ plz

This chapter took me a while - I wrote the beginning the same night I wrote the first and second chapters. Then I realized I think I'm more comfortable writing horrific and sad moments than sweet moments and I kinda froze trying to fill the plot in around it lol.

Thank you so much to everyone reading this!!! The fact that it's actually getting notes makes me really, really happy :)

Also this chapter's run of songs contains a secret song in the spotify playlist oooooh

Oh my mama mama mo-my-mum

Have you kept an eye, an eye on your son?

I know you've got problems, you're not the only one

Since your sugar left, left you on the run

The gas cans felt good in his hands. Heavy. Smooth plastic snug in his fingers. His grip was tight. He reveled in the sound of the liquid sloshing around. The unmistakable smell.

Everybody fucking hated him. Every second of every day, he felt like his brain was on fire. A full body burn begging him to get out.

Get out now.

It's not like anyone was inside. The old library had been gutted weeks ago. They were supposed to demolish it next week. If he really thought about it… he was doing them a favor.

Yeah. So do it. Who gives a fuck.

He busted a window and stuck his leg inside, stepping into the decayed, old building. It smelled like dust. It smelled like school.

Stupid Frank and Susan.

Stupid Heather Hills.

Stupid Rodrick. Going nowhere, doing nothing, being nothing. Stupid.

The smell was strong, but he liked it.

He grinned, he nearly hyperventilated as he doused as much as he could.

Dizzy in his head, laughing maniacally

Breathing in fumes, killing brain cells.

What did it matter.

He shook the last drops out of the second can and tossed it across the room.

He struck a match. Let it burn out.

Struck another. Toss.

The fire erupted.

He stood there to watch it for a second, and ducked back out the window.

He knew he wouldn't have much time to admire his work, so he started running.

Deep into the woods.

He stopped and saw a ball of flames rise in the distance. The ground rumbled. His eyes went wide. He ran all the way home.

Nobody even knew he was gone. He'd left music playing in his room so it'd sound like he never left.

He watched the living room from the top of the stairs. A news report was on.

The library was directly on top of an open gas line. No fucking kidding.

Half the street went up in flames.

It's not like there was much on that street anyway, besides a strip mall with one or two active tenants. Closed for the night. No injuries reported.

His mom was crying. His dad was in shock. Greg and Manny were already asleep.

How could something like this happen? his mom whispered.

They're saying it was just some freak accident. They can't put it out. It's going to burn straight down to the foundation. Frank, incredulous.

Rodrick was silent.

~

Words to memorize

Words hypnotize

Words make my mouth exercise

Words all fail the magic prize

Nothing I can say when I'm in your thighs

“Hey,” a cool hand on his face, “where are you? Are you okay?”

He’s sent flying back to reality suddenly, looking up into your eyes. He looks frazzled. He’s not sure where that came from. All he knows is that he can never tell you.

“I'm fine,” he breathes, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing. Like he’s making sure you’re real.

How could he not be fine? The realization of what's going on hits him like a brick and he squeezes you harder.

He looks up at you like you're a goddess. Hips perfectly situated on his, eyes glinting in the low light of your bedroom. Every subtle movement you make sends a twitch through his body. Breath hitching through plush pink lips, mouth agape.

“I'm fucking amazing,” he sighs.

“Okay, good. Thought I lost you for a second.” you smile, placing a hand on his chest. His heart is racing.

You move your hips, just a little, testing the water.

He throws his head back and huffs, moving with you. He always figured that this- all of this- would be good, but he never dreamed it would be this good. It must be something special about you, he thinks.

You keep smiling down at him.

“If you wanna pick it up a little bit, go ahead,”

“P-pick it up?”

You raise yourself up off him a little, and then send yourself back down. He shudders, a grin spreading across his face. You keep it up, laughing softly, slowly bouncing up and down, skin slapping skin. Obscene, wet sounds. A groan comes from deep within his throat. He's thrusting up to meet you, knuckles white on your hips.

You haven’t had an impressive amount of sex in your life, but you’ve certainly had some experiences. Nothing has ever been like this. Rodrick is looking at you- not your body- he’s looking into your eyes. His eye contact has a sense of pleading, his lips are trembling. You lean down to kiss him. It’s tender. It’s intimate. You’d figured he’d be quick and chaotic. Experienced, maybe, but not learned.

Everything just feels so good.

His hands are gentle on your back, rubbing up around your shoulder blades. You feel his hips roll, and it sends waves of heat through your body. You keep a slow and passionate pace together, it feels like your bodies are perfectly in tune with each other.

“I can't believe that you… I…” Rodrick breathes, his brain turned to mush.

“I know,” a sharp breath leaves you as he hits a certain spot.

You speed up, both of you seeming to know what you need. Your bodies glisten with sweat, and you throw your head back, hands anchored to his shoulders. His hands move up to your chest, gently squeezing, then ghosting down your ribcage. His hands- so large, so strong. They’re slightly weathered, calloused from his drumsticks, and they’re so warm. His bony hips poke into your thighs with every thrust. You can just feel him. All of him.

Then you feel him twitch inside of you.

“I think I…” Rodrick gasps.

You look down at him, your eyes warm, reassuring him. You feel close too, still warmed up from earlier. He ruts up into you, flushed and panting. You feel yourself squeeze around him, your vision blurring slightly, as a rush of tingles runs through your whole body, and that seems to send him over the edge. He stops suddenly, breathing heavily, holding your hip down onto his, the other cupping your face. His eyes squeeze shut, then open wide, and roll back into his head.

You both sit and recover for a second, gasping for air, looking at each other. You roll off of him, and lay next to him, exhausted. He reaches out desperately to grab your thigh, as you turn to your side and throw your arm over his chest. You reach up and feel his cheek. His skin is hot, and slightly stubbled.

“I’m glad I didn’t wait.”

“You were gonna wait?” He pants.

“I don’t usually do that. That fast. But now I know.”

“Know what?” He turns his head to look at you, eyes tired.

“That I really, definitely like you.”

He laughs, pulling you closer to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“I really, definitely like you too.”

You wriggle the comforter out from underneath you, and throw it over the both of you. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off, hands on each other, legs tangled.

For the first time in a long time, Rodrick dreams of absolutely nothing.

~

I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand

Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?

Lose sensations, spare the insults, save them for another day

I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, take the shock away

~

Rodrick wakes up before you, lifting his head in confusion at his unfamiliar surroundings. Until he feels your arm draped over him, and remembers where he is. It’s still early, and you’re dead asleep. He smiles, pulling you closer to him. He gazes over your face, lit up in the early morning light. You stir, coming to rest your head on his bare chest, and he’s so happy he could cry.

“Go back to sleep,” you mumble.

He does.

You wake once the sun is all the way up, blinking at the beams coming in through your window. Rodrick has an iron hold on you, and little snores are coming from him.

You can see your alarm clock from where you are, and it’s a little after 9 AM.

You turn slightly onto your back, and feel Rodrick moving.

“You up?” You look over at him. His eyelids are heavy, and there’s a lazy smile on his face.

“I’m up,” he sighs.

“Glad you didn’t sneak out on me.” You chuckle.

“Why would I do that?” His voice is sleepy, and a little whiny.

“I don’t know. Boys are weird.”

He gives you one last squeeze before he lets you up.

“You wanna shower?” You ask, running a hand through your hair.

The water is warm, and you can finally see Rodrick’s lanky body in all its glory. Steam fills the bathroom, and his face is slightly flushed.

“So, last night,” Rodrick stretches under the stream of water. You find yourself admiring the lightly defined muscles in his back, and fighting the urge to smack his ass. Maybe later.

“What about it?” You smirk, squeezing some body wash onto a washcloth.

“It was… real? Like, it happened, right?” He turns around, eyebrow raised, grinning smugly.

“As far as I'm aware,” you laugh, beginning to scrub yourself.

Rodrick pauses, water running down his shoulders.

“Wow,” he smiles, then his face falters just a little, “and… you enjoyed it?”

You give him a look, wringing out your washcloth. Instead of answering him, you just step forward and kiss him, warm water flowing over you. Your hands travel over his body, slick with water and soap. You pull away.

“Duh.” You smile.

You dry off. Rodrick's wet hair is wild, and he still has a little bit of eyeliner on.

He grabs his clothes from the night before, and you stop him.

“Are you sure about that?”

He freezes, holding his boxers with the tips of his fingers, like a deer in the headlights.

“I can… turn ‘em inside out,”

“Ew. I have clothes you can wear,” you laugh, “boxers make good pajamas, and most bands don't really make women's shirts.”

“Really?”

You toss him a pair of plain, black boxers, then get an idea. You head to your closet, where you keep your band merch.

“Y'know what? I'm returning the favor. You look like a medium.” You root through the box, and toss him a shirt with your band’s logo on the front. He holds it up to himself and smiles. You find your Löded Diper shirt, discarded along with your purse by the front door, and put it on. As you come back, he's pulling the boxers on, and you take your chance.

Smack.

“Hey!” he yelps, turning to face you, blushing just a little.

He sees your shirt, and a giddy grin appears on his face.

You find yourself at the coffee shop across the street, sitting on the little patio. The streets are packed with groups of people, enjoying the spring day. Rodrick mangles a croissant as you sip from a large, white mug. You appreciate the fact that the two of you can sit in a comfortable silence like this. You flip through the local alt paper, The Eye.

“Ooh, there's a Pyramid show tonight, my friend’s band is playing. That'd be a good place to show you. They have an entire wall of pinball machines.”

“Are you friends with all the bands?” Rodrick asks, pouring 4 packets of sugar into his coffee at once.

“Not all of them. But a lot of them. I try to network.” You shrug, reading through the event calendar.

“All the major bars are kind of in one strip, with a few outliers. Then you have your DIYs and house venues.”

Rodrick sips his coffee, makes a face, and adds 2 more sugar packets.

“Do you think we have a chance at any of them?”

“You guys are gonna have good word of mouth after last night,” you nod, “I bet in a week you'll have an offer from Pyramid or Dime Store.”

“Wow,” Rodrick breathes, assuming that must be really good.

“It looked like your guys got along with everyone, too, and Mike likes you. You've got a great start. You might even get to open for a real band once they start coming in the summer.” You smile at him, looking up from the paper.

“We are a real band,” he looks confused.

“Yeah, but, y'know. A touring band. The Casualties are coming back this summer… Circle Jerks usually run through with Descendents once a year, D.R.I. has been on a ‘retirement tour’ for the past few years,” you say, adding air quotes, “your name's on the opener list now. And most of the time, picking someone from that list falls to me… but don't expect any obvious nepotism. I try to match people up by sound.”

Rodrick grins, stars in his eyes.

“Do any bands around here, um,” he pauses, unsure how to word it, “make it?”

“Sometimes,” you lean back, thinking, “it's hard nowadays. There was this super popular indie band last year. They got picked up to be on a movie soundtrack, and they're huge now. That's what sells, these days. I'll let you work out the irony of indie selling.” You smirk.

“So, what? Heavier bands are just shit out of luck?” He takes another sip of his sugary coffee.

“That's how it goes,” you shrug, “you give up most of the hope of being famous to be a real musician. There's a reason that even huge punk bands are still just playing at bars instead of stadiums. It was never marketable. Punk’s not even a genre anymore. To me, it's having the attitude of ‘I’m pissed off, and I'm making it your problem.”

Rodrick laughs, “Okay, I do like that.”

You finish the last of your coffee, and roll up your paper, tucking it in your bag.

“You ready?” You stand up, stretching.

“For what?” he looks at you, draining his mug.

“I'm gonna show you the strip, rookie.”

You smile, holding your hand out, and he takes it.

“The Strike’s back that way, you’ve already seen it. There’s a pretty big gap of old shops and abandoned buildings from here to there.”

You lead him down the street, pointing out bars. Most of them will be closed until the late afternoon.

“There’s Pyramid, there’s Dime store. That one’s cool, the upstairs is a drag bar called Fluorescence, and the downstairs is a dive called Dim Bulb.”

Rodrick laughs, taking in the sights of the street.

“First time I ever came down here, I was with a bunch of friends who were 21, and I was still 19. Dim Bulb is all ages if you put the X’s on your hands, but Fluorescence is strictly 21+. My friends went upstairs. Downstairs was dead that night. They told me to wait in the bar and not go off walking by myself, but…”

“You went off walking by yourself?” Rodrick smirks at you.

“How’d you know?” You chuckle, “Yeah, and I had just gotten these leather pants, and I felt so fucking cool. But I was so stupid. And this gross, old guy stopped me and asked if I was ‘working’, and I said ‘no, fuck off, get away from me’,” you say, your tone nonchalant.

Rodrick raises his eyebrows, his mouth falling open.

“So, he starts chasing me down the street, yelling, ‘I’ll kill you’, and I was yelling back all this bullshit, just totally bluffing,”

You stop in front of a bodega along the street.

“And the guy who owns this place came out and scared the guy off. He’s good people.”

You wave at the man inside, who perks up and waves back.

“That place has everything. 9-volt batteries, first aid stuff, you name it. If you find yourself in a jam, head over there.”

Rodrick looks through the windows as you walk by.

“This whole street is, like… a tiny little town all on its own. Also, I'm glad you didn't get murdered.”

“Yeah,” you sigh out, looking over the strip, feeling proud, “it really is. I love it here. I’m glad I could show you around. And thanks.” You laugh, squeezing his hand.

You keep walking, down towards the point where the bars end and the shops begin. Rodrick walks slowly, swinging his hand with yours. He keeps his head on a swivel, trying to take in all there is to see. Old neon signs, graffiti-covered brick walls, and show fliers absolutely everywhere.

“I think you’re gonna like this place,” you turn to look back at Rodrick, who looks absolutely awestruck.

The bell on the record store door rings, and you're greeted by the familiar woman behind the counter, Jennifer. She’s tall and muscular, with a smoker’s voice, and impeccably curled baby bangs.

Rodrick stops as the door closes behind him. It’s a cozy, dark little room. There are houseplants everywhere, among long boxes of records on high tables. The walls are exposed brick, and light is coming in through two long, skinny windows. An orange cat rests on one of the tables, in a sunbeam. The walls are completely covered in posters, framed records, and old fliers.

“It's you! I have pulls for you,” she looks over thick-rimmed glasses at you, reaching under the counter, then sees your shirt, “what in the hell is that?”

You look down at the bold, white letters on your shirt and laugh.

“Best new band in this town. You really haven't heard of them?” You say, teasingly.

“Diaper…?” she squints, looking at you, bewildered.

“I'm just messing with you, they played their first show last night. This is the drummer, Rodrick,” you gesture to Rodrick. He approaches the counter and sticks out his hand, smiling politely.

Jennifer looks back to your shirt, then at Rodrick.

“Kid, I'll level with you. There are worse names out there.” She barks out a laugh, looking down at her hands, both being used to hold a stack of records.

Rodrick notices, and retracts his hand, laughing nervously.

You kill about an hour in the shop, looking at all the things Jennifer has hidden for you over the week. It was once a very kind thing she did when you were flat broke and new in town, but she kept it up as a tradition, because she said you got it.

Rodrick exhausts each box, looking in amazement at all the different records. 'Dad Rock,' 'Punk Rock,' 'Rockabilly,' 'Psychobilly,' 'Synth Shit for Weirdos.'

The ‘misc.’ box contains a Jane Fonda home workout, a square dancing instructional record, and a full album of canine heartbeats, meant for veterinary students. Rodrick pulls it out and looks at it, reading the cover in confusion.

“See something cool?” You perk up and walk over to him, reading the record.

“Canine Heart Sounds? Is that a band?” You squint. He stays quiet, holding in a laugh.

“‘4-10 acquired murmurs', what the fuck?”

You see the text for ‘Berkeley Medical Veterinary Group’ and let out a cackle, lightly punching Rodrick on the shoulder. He breaks too, putting the record back in the box.

“You totally thought I was all cool and underground for a second.” Rodrick laughs.

You leave the record shop, and you decide to take him to see everything. You try on leather jackets way beyond your means at the biker shop, spiked collars at the goth shop, and hats at the western shop. You point and laugh at each other the whole way, except that some of that leather had looked pretty good on Rodrick… and he might’ve thought the same about you.

By late afternoon, you’re both a little worn out, and you wind up back near where you started, at a tall, yellow building. It’s an ancient pizza joint.

Inside is a massive, wooden staircase, and yellow walls covered in sharpie graffiti. Dumb little messages, from mystery people. From who knows how long ago. It feels like a million little voices yelling at him all at once.

Penelope was here!

Aaron is a cheating douchebag!

George Dubya, suck my dick!

And band names. So many band names.

“Whoa,” Rodrick looks up. It’s even on the ceiling.

You lead him to a large window, with a greyed, wooden frame.

You fish in your purse and find a sharpie, handing it to him.

“When we first started the band, we came here to make it official. I wrote our name, right here, under the window.” You look down, away from him, feeling a little sappy.

Rodrick looks at the smooth, black writing.

The Shrieks

10.15.03

He smiles.

“And, if you’ll notice, there’s an empty space right there next to it…” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rodrick smiles, then crouches down, uncapping the sharpie.

He carefully draws his logo, adding the little horns and tail, with a small safety pin and the date underneath.

He stands up, handing the marker back to you. You look down at your two logos together, then up at your coordinated shirts.

“Yeah. They look great together,” you smile up at him, “now it’s official. Welcome to the scene.”

Rodrick feels a swell in his chest, looking down at your genuine smile. He’s been just a little guarded all day, but… now he gets it. You actually want him around. It’s not a joke. It’s not a trick. You’d wanted his band to be immortalized next to yours on this greasy, strangely beautiful wall.

He catches you off guard, pulling you into a tight hug. You blink once or twice, then wrap your arms around him, smiling against his chest.

“Hey!”

You pull away from each other, and turn to where the voice came from. It’s Ward, in an apron, by the counter.

“I got a job!” He’s grinning.

The two of you walk up to the counter and catch up, refusing to give him any details, no matter how much he wiggles his eyebrows.

~

So we jumped up on the table, and shouted “anarchy!”

And someone played a Beach Boys song on the jukebox

It was “California Dreamin’”

So we started screamin’

“On such a winter’s day!”

~

The two of you sit at your little table, the sun beginning to set outside. You’re laughing at some high school story he’d been telling you- something about how he’d been in love with some girl and ruined her sweet 16.

He pauses, taking a sip out of his glass bottle, beaming.

“God, and she was really into N’Sync, so we spent all this time learning ‘Tearin’ up my Heart’,”

You cackle, slamming your hands on the table, “Oh, god, no!”

“But last minute, I told Ben I wanted to sing, and he could play drums-”

“Can he play drums?”

“Nope!” Rodrick laughs, “And I sang in this high pitched voice- she wanted us in tuxes, but, um, I kinda wasn’t listening when my brother told me that? Also didn’t have the money. But I figured all black was good enough.”

“Did you learn any boy band moves?” You wipe away a stray tear that had escaped your eye.

“I wish. That would’ve been awesome, but, no. We did set off a bunch of pyro, and I jumped off the stage.”

“Pyro?!”

“Ben’s brother is in demolition,” Rodrick laughs, but feels a little pang of anxiety with the words that leave his lips.

You don’t notice his face change, still laughing. Rodrick grins at you, wanting to make the big reveal good.

“This family was loaded, okay? Country club rich. So, the pyro goes off, and it’s chaos. I was, like, dancing around her? And I backed up right into a giant ice sculpture of her head.”

You look at him, in shock, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, and then she tried to kill me with a mic stand, but ended up knocking over a chocolate fountain, and everyone got absolutely covered in chocolate… and then she hated me forever. Still hates me. That’s the girl from last night, by the way- my ‘girlfriend’?”

“No fucking way,” your eyes go wide. “That’s why you were staring each other down.”

Rodrick gives a satisfied nod, chuckling slightly.

“Well, I guess you learned your lesson: don’t trust the rich. First rule of punk.” You tease.

“Yeah, and if she’d actually liked it, I… I would probably be miserable,” He says, a look of realization on his face. You raise your eyebrows.

“I’d probably be at some fancy event right now wearing, like, a polo or something. Oh, god. I’d probably be working for her dad.” He looks down, eyes wide.

You boo him, giving him a thumbs down.

“I wouldn’t have met you,” He stares at you in surprise.

You smile, leaning towards him, your elbow on the table.

“I’m… so fucking glad all that bullshit back home happened,” He shakes his head, smiling, “Because now I’m here.”

“In a greasy, old pizzeria?” You smirk.

“In a greasy, old pizzeria, with you,”

You laugh, at a loss for words. Something about Rodrick seems to have bloomed today, and you like it. It’s like he finally evened out. You lean closer to him.

“I’m glad I’m here with you too,” You smile.

Your lips almost touch, but the buzzing of your cell phone interrupts you. You groan. It's Mike.

“Hey, what's up?”

“They got us! They fucking got us!”

Rodrick hears Mike screaming through the phone, and feels his heart drop.

“What? Who got us? What are you talking about?” Your heart skips a beat.

“They smashed the window! And wrote all over the walls! It's like Sharon Tate all over again!”

Your jaw drops. He's serious.

“Mike, who?”

You hear the sound of glass crunching down the line, along with Mike's enraged muttering.

“How many people did we kick out last night?” He spits.

You take a second to think.

“A lot. It got crazy.”

“Did we have to put anybody on the list?”

You make eye contact with Rodrick. His eyebrows knit together in worry.

“Yeah, there were a few.”

The List is only to be used in extreme circumstances. Any bar patrons found guilty of irredeemable asshole behavior have their IDs taken, photocopied, and returned as their asses are kicked out the front door. You're not sure how legal it is, but it's very effective.

The guy who had punched Rodrick last night, along with all of his friends, had absolutely made The List.

“I know who it was,” your voice shakes, “I’ll be right over.”

You hang up, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Did he say someone smashed the window?” Rodrick breathes in disbelief.

“Yeah,” you put your head in your hands, “do you know the name of that guy who punched you?”

“Ugh. Bryan Kent.” Rodrick frowns.

“Do you think he'd do something like that?”

“Yeah.” He says, without hesitation.

“Fuck!” You sigh, “At least we have a name.”

Rodrick looks at you, guilty, like he might cry. You feel a pang of sadness.

“No, no, sorry. Shit. Don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault, I’m just pissed off.” You ramble.

The bar is like your baby. Though you’ve only worked there a year, it means a lot to you. Mike had drunkenly promised to leave it to you several times, and you feel a strong protective urge over it.

“I gotta go,” you grimace, “Should I take you home?”

He nods, looking dejected.

There are two cop cars parked outside Rodrick’s apartment building, and you notice him gripping the door handle tightly.

“Wonder what that’s about?” You murmur.

“Could you take me around the back?” Rodrick’s voice shakes.

You look at him, raising an eyebrow, but circle around back anyway.

 He opens your car door and gets out.

“Hey,” you stop him, “that was really fun. I hate that it ended this way, but… we’ll see each other again, okay? I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I… I really like you.”

“Me either.” He nods. His voice is cold, and his eyes are void of all emotion.

You know something is wrong, but you have bigger problems on your hands right now.

“Okay,” you give him a weak smile.

He grimaces, and shuts the door. You watch him walk through a grimy back entrance, and pull off.

“Rodrick, dude,” Ben looks at him with bug eyes when he walks through the door, “the fucking cops were here!”

Rodrick freezes.

“Did they leave?”

“Yeah, but they were looking for you, man.” His voice is hushed and panicked.

Rodrick checks the window, and the cop cars are gone.

“What did they say?”

“Something about your name being associated with a crime scene?”

Rodrick turns to look at him, “What?”

~

So while you sit back and wonder why

I got this fuckin’ thorn in my side

Oh my god, it’s a mirage

I’m tellin’ y’all, it’s sabotage

~

tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

[sciencefictionismyjam]

A guide to the versions of Mass Effect.

If you are curious about the original versions of Mass Effect here's a guide on which to play and which to avoid.

MASS EFFECT 2007 Original Xbox 360 exclusive.

Made as a console exclusive under Microsoft Game Studios, ME1 classic's best version is found on the Xbox 360 or via Xbox one X, Series X and S backwards compatibility. It's the most polished and complete version of ME1 benefiting from excellent lighting and audio.

I recommend the Platinum hits collection release (Grey box) and the Collectors Edition steelcase release. These come with fantastic mini art books and bonus behind the scenes material on the 2nd disc! Also a Platinum hits disc installs Bring Down The Sky free to your Xbox One X or Series X console when you insert the game disc.

Since people hastily threw these versions away after the LE released, these versions of the game are cheap as chips nowadays and can be found used and new all over the web.

ME2 and 3 Xbox 360.

These are the definitive versions of the original games, so if ya want those original games in that pure unaltered format the whole Xbox 360 trilogy is the best way to go. Though it will be a little expensive and time consuming to acquire all their DLC content, so as always start with the collectors editions new/sealed and use the built in stores of both the game and Microsoft Xbox one and series X store to acquire the rest of the DLC content.

ME2 and 3 PC.

If you want the best looking, visually scalable and mod compatible versions of ME2 and 3. They benefit from having near 1 to 1 to 360 version PC ports! All their DLC content is now 100% Free when you buy from steam and EA so no need to worry about collecting anything after initial purchase.

AVOID these following versions below...

ME1 classic PC, and ME trilogy on the PS3.

ME1 on the PC which released in 2008 is a rushed, unfinished and buggy disaster of a port... Visually inferior to the 360 versions in almost everyway. You will experience worse lighting, missing special FX, unfinished level art, poor optimisation, bugs, and more.

Mass Effect trilogy on the PS3 that released shortly after EA's acquisition of BioWare is a huge mess... 3rd party titles for Sony's console back in the day were notorious for being inferior to their 360 counterparts due to the unique difficulties associated with game development for that console's CELL processor architecture. Mass Effect 1, 2 and 3 on the PS3 is buggy, unfinished and performs terrible with sub 30 to 20 FPS dips. Dont let the allure of their complete DLC bundles fool you... They are miserable experiences. These are also unfortunately the very versions of all three games the Legendary Edition was built on, making that release an inheritor of all their myriad of issues.

Awful...

[mutantpowerlist]

Reaper - Pantu Hugare

• Pale skin and black spots around eyes • Reaper's body generates a paralyzing effect that slowed reaction time and limited mobility in others. • Uses his scythe as a conduit to amplify his powers and fully paralyze victims struck by it • Due to the Weapon X's augmentation, he grained new powers • He could morph his hands into scythes • Lost and regained his powers over the years

Teams: Mutant Liberation Front, Weapon X, X-Cell TV: X-Men: The Animated Series (1992) First Appearance: New Mutants #86 (Dec 1989)

[zponds]

Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire - My Edition - Titanus Tiamat‘s Abilities

As of recent, i began to think about a couple of abilities that Tiamat would get after healing her injuries from her fight against Amhuluk at the start of my edition of The New Empire.

So besides the obvious abilities such as…

Amphibious lifestyle — Tiamat can survive on land and in water indefinitely, though she gains a more significant mobility advantage in water.

Bio-ultraviolet nature — Monarch classifies Tiamat as being "bio-ultraviolet" in nature, as she often travels onto land to feed on electricity. Harnessing this power in electrogenic cells, Tiamat can discharge electrical currents at such extreme temperatures that it boils the ocean, often causing massive steam trails that can be seen from space. She is also able to concentrate this electricity as a form of beam attack that she can fire from her eyes.

Durability — Tiamat is capable of surviving after Godzilla used his jaws to rip out a chunk of flesh from her body. Her body is strong enough to withstand powerful impacts from Godzilla's stomp and normal atomic breath. She is additionally able to withstand being pummeled and smashed into buildings during her battle with Kong.

Expandable frills — Tiamat can expand the frills surrounding her head as an intimidation display and as a means to smother her foes.

Hydrokinesis — Tiamat can manipulate water, specifically maelstroms and waterspouts, which allow her to drag terrestrial and airborne foes underwater.

Phosphorous ink — Tiamat is able spew a magenta cloud of corrosive and flammable phosphorous ink from chemoreceptors in her venom hood that is capable of harming humans, as well as blinding and disorienting Titans like Godzilla and Kong momentarily.

Razor-sharp scales — Tiamat's body is covered in razor-sharp scales that can cut deep gashes into the skin of other Titans, including Godzilla. In her new form, Tiamat gains a lot more fins, all of which are as sharp as obsidian and as hard as titanium.

Speed and agility — Tiamat is able to move incredibly fast underwater, which allows her to outmaneuver and swiftly coil around Titans like Godzilla and Kong.

Strength and combat — Tiamat can use her jaws and tail as dangerous weapons in combat. She also uses her serpentine body to strangle her foes like constrictor snakes. Her physical strength allows her to effortlessly burst through thick glacial ice.

Vocalization mimicry — Tiamat can mimic the vocalizations of humans and other species using vocal folds located in her tendrils. Though not able to outright replicate human speech, Tiamat can eerily match the sound of human voices in a "Titansong".

Electrogenic cells — Tiamat possesses electrogenic cells that collect and release electricity in currents to such an extent that she can cause the ocean to boil, generating a steam trail visible from space. It’s also said that this ability can generate a "powerful electrical superstorm so massive that it can be seen from space."

She’d gain this batch of abilities that Tiamat gains after she’s fully healed and briefly more powerful than before.

Flight — Despite having no wings, Tiamat can fly around as freely as Mothra, making Tiamat as swift & maneuverable in the air as she is in the water. Which explains how Tiamat got to Egypt so quickly, as after healing up, Tiamat swam as far as she could then took to the sky.

Atomic-Breath-Like Ray — Besides spraying acidic phosphorus ink from her mouth, Tiamat also shows a bright pink ray that’s similar to Godzilla’s Atomic Breath in terms of usage and function. This allows Tiamat to more accurately land hits on enemies and avoid friendly fire, choosing to use her phosphorus ink in close quarter combat.

Additionally, i wanna mention is that upon her arrival in Egypt, Tiamat is revealed to have not only her regular sounds (that we hear in the actual film and the start of my edition of The New Empire), but her more menacing sounds are the sounds of Buraki from the 2007 American-south Korean film; D-War/Dragon Wars.

[edgessunflower]

Cell reunion

Pairing: Lita x Fem reader

Description: You and Lita are reunited during your hell in a cell match with Becky against Damage Control

You run out and knock Dakota into the cage before pulling Iyo into the cage while Becky deals with Bayley since the two had a current feud. The match was 50/50 at this point with each of you basically tossing and throwing each other around with you and becky even doing the Road Warrior's Doomsday device, suddenly a new and familiar theme to you begins to play throughout the arena leading you to stand stunned as Lita runs down to the ring unable to control your smile as she deals with with dakota before iyo gets out earning her a twist while you and becky get a double pin on bayley which earned a win as lita climbed in the cage before she pulled you into a tight warm hug "God I missed you, I haven't seen you in so long". The last time you saw each other was the party for your retirement in mid 2007 which led to a tumultuous romance with romance with Test, a surgery on your hip after a car accident, less stress and worry, and longer being on the road managing to stay in contact with a few of your friends of Edge, Victoria, Rey, Beth, Christian, and Undertaker while losing contact with Trish, John Cena, Lilian Garcia, Bautista, Lita, Umaga, and Torrie managing to get into contact with a few which you were half you saw umaga for a long while before he passed and you did get to reunite with rekindle the friendship you had with chyna before her untimely passing years later on, but now memories flow as you and lita catch up backstage after the last few years of not seeing each other. A few weeks later and through lita, you reunite with trish and soon the three of you were as close as the three of you had been years earlier while on the road wrestling together being each other's number one supporters and both women became your maids of honor when you married Sami Callihan early on the next year and were the first ones you told when you found out just a few days after that you were pregnant feeling nothing but unconditional support from them as you go through your first pregnancy.

[ruiniel]

Tagged by @saintstars to post a snippet from a WIP.

This is an older Mononoke (2007) oneshot I might finish one day. Kusuriuri x Ochou

...

She wonders: what are they doing here, the outcast and the runaway? She yearns to share the thought, but loses the will when he reaches for her.

He easily removes the bamboo comb, then one pin, and the next, setting them aside with a reverence that quickens her heart. His touch grazes the nape of her neck as the last tie comes undone and her hair billows down her body, heavy and shining raven-dark. 

He watches, lips parted as his hands rest on his knees again.

Is this admiration? It imbues her with life: none had expressed pleasure at the sight of her before, not in this way. He’s barely touched her since they retreated, but inescapable warmth rushes through her skin. 

“You know what I’m going to say.”

“Oh?”

“Of all people, you were the last I thought I'd meet again in this life.” 

The impish upper lip curls. An actual smile, soft and genuine. “No, not in this life.”

“You still speak in riddles.”

“And you know the answers, Ochō-san.”

His silence is no longer the suspicious affair from the past, affixed by a hardened stare. Now it is that smile, drawing her in like a talisman—or a curse. 

The flicker of something at his chest catches her eye. Unease gives rise to shadow, and with one look asking for permission, Ochō slowly reaches for the pendant. Her hand coils around its golden glow, trembling upon the cold surface. She remembers, glancing at him, finding the same detached light in his eyes as in the ravaged cell of her mind long ago, when he asked her what she’d done. 

“You need not look again.”

“Is that a warning?” 

“No.” He does nothing to stop her. 

Ochō turns the amulet over. She chews her lip: the last time, the mirror shattered a world. What if… 

Nothing happens. Her face is all she sees, and yet, there is change.

She is no longer garbed in finery, her hair is not adorned or shaped with wax. Her teeth are not blackened. She lives far from her land, surrounded by the barest necessities. Her eyes are the same shade of bruised evening skies, but lack the clouds of misery. It all feels worth it. “Is this freedom, then?” she asks, releasing the mirror.

The tinted smile returns.

...

[magnetictapedatastorage]

is it possible to search for and highlight multiple UNRELATED items in excel 2007? like multiple cntl-f searches at once? NOT a value within a value, i just want all cells with a value of X and also all cells with a value of Y. i don't care if they're in the same window or not.

[jondalars]

movies, tv shows, and books of 2024

((* is a rewatch/reread; currently watching; can’t get through))

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

Jack o' Frost (s1)

Breathless (1960)

I Hear You're Rich by Diane Williams

Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance (2002)

How to Blow Up a Pipeline (2022)

Out There by Kate Folk

Saltburn (2023)

Bulbbul (2020)

Bicycle Thieves (1948)

Oldboy (2003)

Doona! (s1)

The Guest Lecture by Martin Riker

Survivor (s7*, s46)

Carol (2015)

The Trust (s1)

Jade Legacy by Fonda Lee

The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty (s1)

EO (2022)

Turn to Me Mukai-kun (s1)

Death Valley by Melissa Broder

Past Lives (2023)

The Traitors (s2)

Whereabouts by Jhumpa Lahiri

Celebrity (s1)

Leave the World Behind (2023)

Society of the Snow (2023)

The Batman (2022)

Lady Vengeance (2005)

Rinko-san Wants to Try (s1)

Her Private Life (s1)

The Rabbit Hutch by Tess Gunty

Good Morning Call (s1)

Triangle of Sadness (2022)

Itaewon Class (s1)

Dumb Money (2023)

Yumi's Cells (s1)

The Eagle (2011)

Sword and Fairy (s1)

Punch-Drunk Love (2002)

Possession (1981)

Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros

Audition (1999)

Biography of X by Catherine Lacey

My Demon (s1)

Down Low (2023)

Plus One (2019) *

Eustace and Hilda by L.P. Hartley

Upgraded (2023)

Vincenzo (s1)

Backstreet Rookie (s1)

Lucy: The Beginnings of Humankind by Donald C. Johanson & Maitland A. Edey

Scarlet Heart (s1*)

Amidst a Snowstorm of Love (s1)

Doom at Your Service (s1)

Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis trans. Peter Bien

Bottoms (2023)

Suspicious Partner (s1)

Possession by A.S. Byatt

Irish Wish (2024)

Eye Love You (s1)

Marry Me! (s1)

Butterflied Lover (s1)

Kiss Goblin (s1)

The Date of Marriage (s1)

Nevertheless (s1)

Please Be My Family (s1)

The Unforgivable and Other Writings by Cristina Campo

The Skin of Dreams by Raymond Queneau

Physical: 100 (s2)

Welcome to Samdal-ri (s1)

The Holdovers (2023)

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas

Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner

Deal or No Deal Island (s1)

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J Maas

Baby Reindeer (s1)

Howards End by E.M. Forster

Anyone But You (2023)

Talk To Me (2022)

Ringu (1998)

Will Love in Spring (s1)

The Idea of You (2024)

K-pop Generation (s1)

Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat *

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J Maas

Perfect Marriage Revenge (s1)

Us and Them (2018)

Boys Planet (s1)

I-LAND 2 (s1)

Bright Young Women by Jessica Knoll

Camp Zerobaseone (s1)

Gold by Rumi trans. Haleh Liza Gafori

So I Married the Anti-Fan (s1)

MAKEMATE1 (s1)

Cassandra in Reverse by Holly Smale

I Cannot Reach You (s1)

Hit Man (2023)

Start-Up (s1)

Mai (2024)

Prince's Gambit by C.S. Pacat *

Meet Me After School (s1)

The Double (s1)

Not in Love by Ali Hazelwood

Upcoming Summer (2021)

One Day (s1)

The Parades (2024)

Molly by Blake Butler

Story of Kunning Palace (s1)

Kings Rising by C.S. Pacat *

A Strange and Sublime Address by Amit Chaudhuri

Sometimes I Think About Dying (2023)

The Singularity by Dino Buzzati

Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Silent (s1)

Butterfly of Dinard by Eugenio Montale

Claim to Fame (s3)

Candy Color Paradox (s1)

The Fourth Kind (2009)

Prey (2022)

Destined (s1)

L'Avventura (1960)

No Country for Old Men (2007)

Lovely Runner (s1)

Throne of Blood (1957)

Y/N by Esther Yi

My Journey to You (s1)

My Sweet Mobster (s1)

A Journey to Love (s1)

Fight for my Way (s1)

A Chance Meeting: American Encounters by Rachel Cohen

A Tale of Love and Loyalty (s1)

Plainwater: Essays and Poetry by Anne Carson *

A Familiar Stranger (s1)

Maid's Revenge (s1)

The Immortal Promise (s1)

In Blossom (s1)

[6rookie-writer0110]

I would like to request one with Amy Lee (Evanescence vocalist) x Male Reader smut with agegap (Amy 41 and reader 23)

The reader is a world famous singer and is a fan of the band Evanescence, more specifically, Amy Lee, so he wants to do a collaboration with her, the reader in person contacts Amy's manager and asks for her cell phone number and thus the reader communicates with Amy, who tells her that he wants to collaborate together, Amy knows the reader and he music, since her son Jack is a fan of the reader, and Amy also really likes his music, so for those two reasons she agrees to do the collaboration. The weeks go by and they get closer to the point of being good friends, the reader has already met Amy's son and her husband and they also got along excellently, one day the reader did a karaoke session with Jack, Amy and her husband Josh where they had a great time.

When they officially release the song on musical platforms, it ends up being a complete success, to the point of being nominated for a Grammy and for that reason, both the reader and Amy decide make a music video, but they will do it after the awards.

It's time for the Grammy ceremony, Amy and the reader are sitting together and when they name several great artists for the collaboration of the year, among them the reader and Amy, who end up winning the Grammy, the two hug each other, Amy hugs her son and husband (who accompanied Amy and the reader) and they go up on stage to accept their award and give a speech of thanks.

After the awards they go to the after-party, but Amy is only there for a while, since she has to return to her family, but the reader ends up convincing her to celebrate for a while longer, but not at the party, so the reader and Amy leave there to go to the reader's car and go for a ride while they talk calmly and friendly.

They arrive at the reader's house and leave their awards on the living room table, and the reader, taking advantage of the euphoria of having won an award, leans down and kisses Amy, and she backs away a little, but she liked it, so now she is the one who leans in to kiss the reader, the reader ends up sitting in his couch and Amy sits on top of the reader still kissing, the reader begins to undress Amy, but she resists a little, since she does not want to cheat on her husband, since she married him in 2007, she has been in a very happy and healthy marriage, but ends up giving in since she is very horny.

They both end up having passionate sex on the couch, and they rest a little, talking casually, and kiss again and now go to the reader's room and spend the rest of the night there (in which most of the night they will be awake having sex of all kinds and in different positions)

Please & thank you.

I love her music