#my new laptop is much bigger than my last one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

folkloresthings · 2 months

Note

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

608 notes · View notes

waughymommy · 2 months

Text

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 3

After drying his tears, Brian released the tapes of his diaper. He hopped into the shower. He stood as if in a trance while the water cascaded over him. What the hell happened. How could I have been so stupid. Does she secretly think I’m a freak? Snapping back to reality, he hopped out and got dressed. He often liked to dress nicely, slacks, a button down, and a sport coat. Much like the tools in his garage, he wanted his appearance to portray masculine maturity. He didn’t want anyone to know his deepest desires, but now pandora’s box was open. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his keys. He found Rebecca before walking out, “Ok I will be back this evening Rebe….I mean mommy/” His face immediately turned bright red with embarrassment. She flashed that beautiful smile, “Brian, its ok. You will soon get used to calling me mommy. You won’t even think about it. I love you my precious baby boy.” “Love you too. See you later.”

Rebecca waited for the sound of the garage door closing before she got to work. She reached for her phone and texted her best friend, Jennifer.

Rebecca: I’m finally going to be a mommy!

Jennifer: OMG, I am so excited. When did you find out?

Rebecca: Last night.

Jennifer: How did Brian react to this news?

Rebecca: Well, that’s the thing. He is going to be my baby.

Jennifer: Excuse me? I don’t even know where to start. What does that even mean? Can we meet up.

Rebecca: Meet me for lunch at the café at noon.

She set down her phone, not realizing she was grinning from ear to ear. She opened her laptop and began her investigation of all the things she would need to purchase. She typed into the search bar Adult Baby furniture. She knew there was an adult baby fetish, but she had no idea how much stuff was available to her. Scrolling down, she found a company catering to adult babies. They had everything she would need. Very quickly her online cart was filled with things. The first things were a crib, changing table and a play pen specifically designed for bigger babies. Brian will feel so helpless when he can’t escape this play pen. She then moved onto diapers, onesies, bottles, and bibs and toys. Good thing Brian isn’t here to see how much this is going to cost. No matter. He is no longer in charge. She felt exhilarated as she confirmed her purchase.

She sat back, imagining her baby sound asleep in his crib, changing his wet diapers, or holding him in her lap as she fed him his bottle. That’s when it dawned on her. She went back to the search bar: how to induce lactation. After a few minutes of research, she placed an order for a breast pump and supplements to aid production. She couldn’t think of anything more nurturing and thrilling than feeding her baby from her breast. But the one thing she still couldn’t figure out was how was she going to get Brian to give into his baby side. His temper tantrum this morning just affirmed that he would be resistant.

Rebecca and Jennifer took their seats at the café. “Before I tell you everything, I need you to promise me that you will keep this private. Please don’t tell anybody,” Rebecca pleaded nervously.

“Of course. We have been friends for years. Now spill it.”

“Ok, ok. So the other day, I was cleaning up in the bedroom and I found this box under the bed. It was filled with all of these baby supplies, but they weren’t for a normal baby. Everything was sized for an adult. Clearly it was stuff that Brian uses. Ever since we’ve been together, I’ve known he was hiding something. But you know Brian. Its so hard to ever get him to open up.”

“Wow, I’m not sure how I would react. But are you sure this is what he wants?” asked Jennifer.

“Well I knew if I questioned him, he would find an excuse and refuse to talk about. Soo, I laid him down and showed him that I had discovered his secret. I decided to give up a one time opportunity to accept my offer to be his mommy, but if her refused that it would never happen again. He accepted. He is so stubborn though. I know he wants this so desperately. He works so hard to make sure I have everything I need and want. I want to do this for him, but how do I get him to let go and fully embrace being little.”

“Hmmm. Have you considered hypnosis? I’m sure there is a way to get him to behave exactly how you want.”

“Hypnosis? I hadn’t even thought of that. I think you are on to something. Oh baby Brian has no idea what’s instore for him.” Rebecca chuckled. “I’ve got some more research to do. I need to get back and prepare for him. I told him that he had today to be a big boy, but that tonight we would discuss his second babyhood. I’ll let him think he has some say over how I treat him, but little does he know that mommy will have total control.”

Brian pulled back into the garage and put his car into park. He took a moment to collect himself. He was still so nervous. He plucked up the courage to walk inside.

“Brian? Is that you sweetheart?” Rebecca called from the bedroom.

“Ya its me.”

“Good, come see back to the bedroom sweetheart, we need to talk.”

Brian cautiously entered the bedroom, unsure of what he would find.

“Come here silly. Everything is just fine. I poured you a glass of wine.” Rebecca beckoned him to the bed. “Did you have a good day sweetheart?”

Brian simply nodded. The nervousness creeped into his throat. He accepted the glass and took a big sip.

“Alright baby. Mommy wants to know all about your fantasy. Don’t be scared baby. So first question, have you ever fantasized about me being you mommy?”

Brian’s cheeks burned, “Yes. Since the first time we met.”

She smiled brightly, “I’m so glad you want me to be you mommy. But I am very cross that you never told me. I know this has been hard for you. But that is ok. How often do you play baby sweetheart?”

“Only a few times. It took me years to work up the courage to buy any supplies. When you went on that girl’s trip a few weeks ago, I spent a whole day as a baby.” Brian still had trouble looking at her as he spoke.

“Ok this is really important baby. Brian, I need you to look at mommy. Have you ever used your diaper?” she grabbed his chin and pulled his gaze up to her eyes.

His blush told her all she needed to know. “Have you ever gone poopy in your diaper baby?”

He cringed at being spoken to like a toddler, but again his embarrassment betrayed his secret.

“Very good baby. I want my baby to completely comfortable using your diaper anytime you need to go. Mommy will never be mad. Afterall, babies have no potty training.” She reached for his pacifier again and placed it in his mouth. She grabbed his hand and led him to the den. She sat him down in his favorite chair. She produced a pair of headphones and placed them on his head. “Now mommy has to make dinner. But I want my baby to relax. I found this special music to help baby unwind. I’ll come get you when dinner is ready, but your butt better not leave that chair until then. You don’t want another spanking like you got this morning, do you?” Brian immediately knew, she wasn’t playing around. Within a few minutes, Brian drifted away, completely unaware that Mommy was training him to be a real baby.

408 notes · View notes

kjupchurch-xx · 1 month

Text

You're Mine (request on Tumblr for a jealousy filled fic featuring Tom Hiddleston)

WARNING: For those that do not like SMUT, I'm sorry, you can skip this one. This is a request I got on Tumblr and I do honor all requests... within reason, LOL.

Today was Hugh and I's third anniversary. The last three years have been amazing to say the least. We met five years ago when I'd stumbled into his coffee shop, Laughing Man Cafe, a coffee and tea shop he owned, located in New York. Hugh had stopped in to sign autographs and meet a few fans, I'd stopped in for a coffee, not realizing Hugh Jackman owned it.

We began dating shortly after, getting married two years later. I'd always been extras in films, but he'd help me kick start my career as being a lead in some smaller films. I was always apprehensive about doing bigger films, so I strayed away from them. Hugh would spend hours going over lines with me to prepare me for various roles over the last few years. I checked my email noticing a script my manager sent over to me. It was a bigger film, of course and I had managed to get the part after a stressful audition. I didn't bother reading the script before auditioning, but I knew it was a rom-com with Tom Hiddleston, who was well known for playing Loki.

"Holy shit." I mumbled, reading over the script. Hugh looked over at me from the opposite end of the couch, wearing his glasses, "What? Did you get dropped?" He asked concerned.

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you automatically assume I was dropped from a film?"

He chuckled, "What's with the 'holy shit' reaction?" He sat his laptop down, scooting beside me to see my phone.

I took a deep breath, "Uh, well... There's a sex scene with Tom and I."

He shrugged, "It's just acting, babe. You'll do fine. Sex scenes are fun to film."

I cocked my brow looking at him, "Really?" I asked sarcastically.

He laughed, shaking his head, "I don't mean it like that. They're awkward. You're wearing these little bags and cover-ups, stimulating sex for hours. It's weird, but the key is to make each other laugh."

He would know. He's the man that's always down for a good sex scene.

I continued skimming the email, "Holy fuck! We're filming it at 5." I said mentally face palming as I jumped up to grab normal clothes, rather than the sweats and over sized t-shirt I was wearing.

Hugh looked at his watch, "Oh fuck, it's 3:45 now. Let's get ready and I'll take you. Tom's a nice dude, you'll be fine, baby." He said as he jumped up to change out of his comfy clothes.

As we got ready and jetted out of the door of our home in NYC, we flew through traffic and made it to the set with 10 minutes to spare. When we arrived on set, I was greeted by my manager, Tom's manager, Tom and a few of the film crew.

"Ooooh, she brought Wolverine with her, Tom. You better be careful." one of the cameramen teased.

Tom chuckled, "I'm always careful." as he made his way to Hugh smiling, "Nice to see you again, Hugh."

Hugh smiled, "Hey Mate, nice to see you."

The director walked over to us, "Okay Jackman, as much as I love your beautiful ass, you're not in my movie. Get off the set." She teased.

Hugh laughed, throwing his hands up, walking towards the side of the set, "You knew it would cost too much to book me." he said jokingly.

Tom and I sat in the middle of the set with the director as she explained the script and how she wanted the intimate scene to take place. "So, we're going to get you two ready for the shot, you'll both be wearing cover-ups, so you won't actually be naked, but you'll appear naked to the audience and to the cameras." We nodded in agreement. "Whenever she comes in, I want you to pin her to the door in a full on make out with second base type thing, but you'll both still be clothed for that scene."

We nodded, "Alright." we said in unison while going our separate ways to get into our character outfits. After about 30 minutes of changing and fixing our hair, we met back on set. A door separating us. This was my first time doing an intimate scene in a movie. I'd had brief kissing scenes over the years, but nothing to this level. I could feel my anxiety building as I took a deep breath, staring towards the door.

"And, action!" The director yelled, slamming a marker.

I grabbed the door, pushing it open to be met with Tom, grabbing me and intensely shoving me against it, pushing his lips onto mine. The kiss was deep, it was messy, there were shots where you see his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Tom wasn't a bad kisser by any means, I will say that. The director decided the scene wasn't her favorite and wanted to re-do it two more times afterwards, wanting Tom to be more aggressive each time we'd kissed.

I glanced over to Hugh, who was on the sidelines, playing on his phone. I could tell he was getting annoyed, but being the professional he is, not wanting to show it. Tom shook me from my thoughts, "You know, kissing you is pretty fun." He said, winking at me. I chuckled, not wanting to cause issues, but also shaking off the uncomfortable feeling his flirting was giving me. Hugh is typically not a jealous man, but I knew if he overheard the flirting, he'd knock this dude's teeth out and make sure he never did another Marvel movie again.

On the third shot of the kissing scene, I felt Tom's hand brush slightly across my breast. Not enough for me to really react, but enough for me to know he did it. Not knowing if this was truly a coincidence, I shrugged it off as we went to get ready for the sex scene. I was completely naked, besides a small skin colored cover-up that literally only covered my vagina. Tom was wearing a skin colored bag that hid his dick.

We wrapped ourselves in robes while we weren't filming to meet the director as she explained how she wanted the sex scene to go and what her expectations were. This was my first big film, and I knew if I wanted to score a good career, I had to sell it regardless of how I was feeling. As we made our way to the bed and stripped our robes, we both laid on the bed, under the comforter. The director wanted Tom on top of me, so he climbed on top of me and looked me dead in the eyes. I couldn't force myself to look over at Hugh, so I blocked him completely out of my brain and continued looking at the guy that was on top of me.

"And, action!" The director yells, slamming her marker.

Tom looked down at me, "Is this what you want?" He asks seductively, moving his hips in a motion as if he were positioning himself to enter me, throwing the comforter off of us, revealing our naked bodies.

I moaned, biting my lip, "I want you."

Tom stimulated his hips as if he'd slammed into me while I stimulated the scene to make it look as if I were matching his thrusts as both of us moaned. He took one of my nipples in his mouth and began sucking on it while still pretending to thrust into me while I drug my fingernails down his back and cried out his character's name.

The scene in the movie only showed the sex for about two minutes, before cutting to a scene of both of us cuddled in bed talking about how we couldn't let our spouses find out about what we'd done.

Tom giggled, "We can't let them know. This needs to be our dirty little secret."

I smirked, "I know, I know... But you fuck so much better than anyone I've ever been with. He'll be out of town working all week anyways."

Tom leaned down, kissing my head, holding me, "Do you know how long I've waited to do that? How hard it is being around you two and having to hide how hard my dick gets when you're around me... We're horrible people." He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, "What they don't know won't hurt them." I said as I playfully trailed my fingers down his stomach, "I want more..." I said seductively.

"Cut! That was perfect, guys!" The director exclaimed, running towards us with our robes.

Filming for the day had ended and I hadn't looked at Hugh in hours. I was too afraid to. I know this is what actors do and he knows good and well how acting in films can be, but something in me felt like this was going to be a disaster. As I put my normal clothes back on and told everyone bye, I noticed Hugh was outside on his phone. He looked pissed.

I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around him, "I'm finished, baby. Do you want to get dinner?" I asked sweetly.

He glanced at me, ending the phone and walking to get in the car, "Not hungry." He grunted.

I opened the door of the car, awkwardly getting in, "We're going home." He said coldly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his arm, only to have him pull away.

He kept his eyes focused on the road, "What's wrong, love? You won't even look at me." I said, starting to tear up.

He scoffed, "What's wrong? You enjoyed that! You were really getting into that wannabe Wolverine motherfucker all over you!" He spat.

My jaw dropped, "Excuse me? What are you talking about? I was doing my job, Hugh!"

He laughed annoyingly, "Really? Your job wasn't to look like you were shooting a motherfucking pornography movie. It was to do a two minute sex scene and you took it too fucking far with him. Do you want to fuck him that bad?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he really that jealous by me doing a sex scene in a movie he told me to audition for?

I shook my head, "What are you talking about right now? I did exactly what the director asked me to do." I said in defense.

He looked at me, "Really? Do you realize how fucking heartbreaking it is to watch a younger man, closer to your age all over you, sucking on your tits? Then you're both talking about good thing our spouses don't know. You know you were turned on by it. I know you."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, Hugh. Just get me home before I start walking. I'm seriously about to get out of this car."

He scoffed again, "Yeah? Go ring Tom, I'm sure he'll pick you up."

As we got home, he hopped out of the car, making sure he slammed the door and every door inside the house. He was being dramatic. Does seeing me stimulating a fake sex scene with an attractive actor that's younger than him bother him that badly? I'm literally doing what he does with other women, well maybe not that extreme, but does he forget that I have to see him kissing or flirting with other women onscreen in almost every movie or interview he does? I mean shit...Excuse me for just furthering my career.

As the night went on, he seemed to calm down. I found him playing his piano, looking lost in his own thoughts. I walked towards him, "Are you finally calm?" I asked bluntly, bracing myself for the reaction.

He shook his head cheekily, "I'm fine. Do you want to have a cuddle in bed?" He asked, smiling at me.

I nodded, "Of course, love." I said, while grabbing his hand, leading him to our bedroom.

As we approached the bed, he pushed me down, kissing me aggressively, biting and sucking on my bottom lip as if he were going to literally gnaw it off. "You really think he's better than me, huh?" He mumbled against my lips, causing me to roll my eyes.

I brushed the comment off and continued the kiss, "Answer me." He growled while pushing his boner into my hips. "No..." I said lowly. "No, what?" He spat back, pushing himself further into my hips. "No baby, I don't." I said, looking up at him.

"I sat on the side and watched him practically fuck you and touch you for hours. Do you know how fucking bad I wanted to rip his face off for touching my wife?" He asked as yanked my shirt off. "Watching him suck on your perfect tits... You're mine, do you understand that?" He said while pulling my pants off, leaving me in my bra and underwear.

I nodded, "Yours..." He sat back up pulling his own clothes off as he climbed back on top of me, pulling my panties to the side, shoving his fingers inside me, while sucking on my neck. "This is my pussy." He whispered into my ear as his fingers danced inside me.

I couldn't help the moan that escaped from my lips, "Oh fuck... Baby, don't stop." I moaned, while reaching for his boxers. "I want you."

He pulled them down, revealing his hard cock, "You want me? Are you sure you don't want Tom?" He asked, cocking his brow at me as he rubbed my clit.

I nodded, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood, "You're the only one I want..." I said as I reached for his cock, wrapping my hand around the length.

"Show me." He said, pulling me on top of him. I slid down his frame, kissing every inch of his torso as I made my way down to his manhood. I felt him place his hand on the back of my head as I took him into my mouth. I sucked hard on the tip while letting my hand work the base as I felt him start roughly thrusting into my mouth as he threw his head back, his moans filling the air.

"That's a good girl. Show me how much you want my dick." He moaned, as I began bobbing my head quicker taking his rough thrusts deep into the back of my throat.

This was not like Hugh, but I was loving every minute of it. It almost makes me wish I'd taken more opportunities to push his buttons. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth as he pulled out not wanting to cum just yet. He glanced down at me, motioning for me to get on my knees.

I did as I was told as I felt him push my panties to the side, entering me. His thrusts were fast and rough, not the sweet, romantic I was used to getting. He slapped my ass hard, "Is this what you wanted?" He grunted, "You wanted this cock, you don't want anyone else's cock, do you?" He gave a deeper thrust, "Answer me or I'll stop and you can go ring Tom instead." He yelled.

I threw my head back, trying to form words as the feeling of euphoria overtook my body. "Fuck! Don't stop!" I managed to scream between moans, "I only want you." I said, trying to not let myself go this soon.

He grabbed a handful of my hair, turning my face to look at him, "This is mine. All mine." He moaned. I could tell he was getting close, I could feel him throbbing inside me. "Cum for me, baby. Let me see how good I make you feel." He said while tugging on my hair.

I let go and exploded on him, literally falling down to the bed as I felt him cum deep inside me. He collapsed beside me, breathless. "Do you feel better now?" I asked him chuckling, sounding a bit amused while trying to catch my breath.

He chuckled, "I do. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked sweetly.

There he was... There was my sweet baby. I smiled, "You didn't hurt me in a bad way, if that's what you're asking. Maybe I should make you jealous more often." I joked.

He laughed, pulling me closer to him, "Maybe so, love."

254 notes · View notes

thecapricunt1616 · 2 months

Text

Pomegranate (C.B. One Shot)

“Alright so last minute alterations are really nothing to worry about - We can always add an extra fabric panel to the dress, It wont even be noticeable! This is why we inform our expecting brides to go 2 sizes up, sometimes though as second time moms we pack on a little extra trust me, I did too with my second” The nice, Bridal assistant explained to you as she finished cinching your dress that fit you perfect…now.

Your wedding was still 2 months away, when you would be 7 months along and likely with a bigger bump (and chest) as your body made room for your & Carmys growing daughter. You look at Syd, Nat, and your best friend, Gabriella in the mirror. The look flashing on your face was insecurity, “What if I look…Like- awful- and swollen and- and all third trimester” you asked worridly. Natalie gave that worried mom look and stood up, coming over to the circle platform you were standing on and looks up at you.

“C’mere, you sound like you need a hug sweetheart” she said and opened her arms sweetly. You pouted, holding back your tears and the bridal assistant speaks up, rubbing your back gently as you carefully stepped down and gave Nat a big hug“You are gonna look beautiful, I’m sure of it. All your morning sickness will be gone, and you should still be comfortable honey- 7 months is a perfect time to get married” The bridal assistant assured you as she gently rubbed your back. “I’m gonna give you ladies some time to talk while I go measure out for more fabric and jot the dimensions down. I’ll be back soon” she shuts the little curtian of the showing room as she leaves to give you 4 privacy to console your pregnancy hormones.

♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨: In Greek and Persian mythology, pomegranates symbolize fertility, beauty, and eternal life. In the Greek myth of Persephone's abduction by Hades, the pomegranate represents the indissolubility of marriage. ♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're feeling insecure that your wedding is only happening for traditions sake & sweet Carmy assures you that isn't the case ♡ 𝐖/𝐂: 6,050 ♡ 𝐀/𝐍:She's baaackkk!!! Guess who finally got a new laptop, y'all!! So I'm officially back in the groove! This one has been a long time coming, so long coming that I can't even find the ask because I replied to it so long ago that it got buried on my blog, but this is DC to my lovely little burrito baby @daysofyellowroses - darling, thank you so much for your patience while waiting for this, you've been absolutely wonderful & amazing & the best ever with waiting. Also, thank you so much for your support all the time even when I'm not writing ILY to Saturn! I'm so happy that my original format is back, because I know people have been saying lately they like it & I'm so glad! It was just nearly impossible to do on my phone / iPad! This is a lot longer than the blurbs that I've been writing lately so I hope it feels like we're getting back to normal! I love love love you all <3 ♡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐓𝐂: Swearing, Pregnant!Reader, Dad!Carmy, No use of Y/N, R has long hair but no other physical descriptions really, (Kinda) Vulgar language, Not terribly edited, !!Fluffy Carm!!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

“You are gonna look beautiful, I’m sure of it. All your morning sickness will be gone, and you should still be comfortable honey- 7 months is a perfect time to get married” The bridal assistant assured you as she gently rubbed your back. “I’m gonna give you ladies some time to talk while I go measure out for more fabric and jot the dimensions down. I’ll be back soon” she shuts the little curtian of the showing room as she leaves to give you 4 privacy to console your pregnancy hormones.

“I- I just worry, Nat” you sniffled a bit. Gabriella quickly got up, handing you a tissue and you thanked her, taking it and dabbing your eyes carefully to not disturb your mascara more than you already had.

“Trust me, when Pete and I had our first before we got married I was terrified. But I promise, you know Carmy is your person - You’ve told me a million times! And he’s told me a million times” she giggled assuringly, wiping stray tears that had trickled down your cheek. “I can’t think of anyone more perfect to deal with his antics” she joked, causing you to laugh just a bit in turn.

“That is for sure the truth, You and little man” Gabriella chimed in and you nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to calm back down.

“You’re right- that’s right. I’m sorry - let me go change so we’re not late to brunch” you said and Nat squeezed your arm kindly in response as you head back to the dressing room. After you finished getting switched out of your dress and back into your clothes, you checked your phone and saw a text from Carmy as well as an attatched image.

‘Cub learned how to make Foccatia today, kid had the bright idea to put in cherry tomatoes and chives to make them look like cherrys on a stem he’s a fuckin genius already’

You see the picture attatched was your adorable son, smiling brightly and proudly holding up a tray of foccotia dough, and just like Carmy said there was little cherry tomatoes nestled in making it look like cherries. You gasped to yourself happily, smiling wide as you send a text back,

‘Not only is he your little twin, he got your talents in the kitchen too!!! Little girl is gonna be jealous if she comes out with moms lackluster cooking skills’

You joked back and slipped your phone into your large ‘mom purse’ as you called it, since small messenger bags and clutches or crossbodies weren’t at all practical with all of the things you had to carry around just in case for motherhood, because something that you learned early on was the moment you don’t have it with you, youll need it. Natalie had agreed, it was just one of those things you had to learn with as a mom. You were happy that you and Carmy had waited a bit though, to have your next. Granted, time did feel like it slipped away from the two of you by accident.

Your first was absolutely a suprise. Not a bad one, just very unexpected. You and Carmy had been together for 4 years by that point, and the universe must have had some kind of grand plan - because the pharmacy messed up with your birth control that month, and when Carmy realized the condom had ripped it was already too late. You had tried taking a Plan-B to be as responsible as you could the following morning- but 3 weeks later Aunt-Flo had not shown up, and thats when you knew, considering she had always been a very…timely guest, ever since she’d started visiting.

You made sure to take 3 strip tests, 4 ClearBlue First-Response tests, and made an appointment with your OB-GYN doctor to have a confirmation ultrisound just to be sure, before you told Carmy. The two of you had talked about kids before, but he had spoke about them like he was unsure, so to say that your hands felt sweaty when you told him when he came home from work that night was an understatement. What you didn’t expect was for him to burst into tears, and ask “You’re gonna have our baby? Really? We’ll have a family together?“ whispering it, as if he couldn’t believe it was something you’d ever want to do.

From that moment you were absorbed with parenthood together. Lamaze Classses, Bradley method classes, Breastfeeding classes, Newborn classes, Childbirth classes, Infant & Toddler development classes, Doctors appointments, Nutritionists, Ultrasounds. Not to mention the shelf that Carmy had to build in the nursery for all of the parenting, breastfeeding, childbirth, etc. etc. etc. books that he’d gotten delivered from Barnes & Noble before the end of your first trimester. He made sure to not miss a thing, and be there for you every single step of the pregnancy, the good, the bad, & the ugly too. When you found out that you were pregnant with your second, he proposed.

It wasn’t that you weren’t sure if he really wanted to get married, you knew he loved you - but you had just felt that the timing was a little…off. Just because it was so close to the time that you had let him know, only 2 months later did he pull out a ring while you, him, and cub were sitting at the park having a picnic together and he asked if you wanted to share he and Cubs last name. So you can be a real family.

You thought it may be that phrase, real family. Like, you and Carmy and cub and the little girl on the way werent a family enough, that you had to be bound legally to eachother for him to see you as a true family. The phrase had been randomly keeping you up at night, or even waking you up sometimes. You didn’t want to bring it up, though.

He already coddles you and a pre-schooler, he’s been putting up with you for nearly 10 years, don’t question him and make him leave.

You wanted to believe that it was just the horrible anxiety that came with your first trimester, that it was the hormones racing through you that were lying to you, trying to make you hate the person in the world who you love most, other then your son and your daughter on the way of course. But it still caused you to go to the bathroom and silently cry in the middle of sleepless nights when it all felt to be too much.

Especially when he had to skip out on multiple parts of the wedding vendor appointments due to work. This had made you feel like he wants to be present for your children as a father which you loved and appreciated more then anything, but when it came to being there for you, as his wife, and just his wife. Sure, he would sit with you on his time off and pick everything out with you, and he was there for most of the appointments. But not all of them, when he had never missed a single ultrasound or doctors appointment for your son since he’d been born.You shake your head to yourself, pulling yourself from your negative thoughts and step back out to meet the girls waiting for you, “Lets go to brunch I’m starved!” you push your purse up on your shoulder and head out with them.

By the time you’d gotten home, it was around 1:30 and Carmy was in the kitchen finishing wiping down the front of the fridge. He stood up with an adorable dad grunt “There’s my favorite girls!” he grins, coming up to you and giving you a loving kiss before rubbing your baby bump gently. “How was the appointment sweetheart” He asked, taking your purse from you and bending down to give your belly a kiss “Hi Jellybean” he whispered to your bump before standing back up and leading you over to the couch.

“It was…good, I guess. I mean, good in the fact that the dress fit perfect” You said, resting your arm over your belly as you sat on the couch

“Thats awesome baby!” he knelt down, taking your sneakers off for you and taking them over to the shoe rack at the door, and hanging your purse on the hook

“Not really awesome because if it fits perfect now, when I go to waddle down the isle it wont even zip. Remember with Gio I didn’t even really pop until I was 6 months! So the month before the wedding, I’m worried I’m gonna turn into a pregnant balloon!” you huffed, and to that he tisked, going over to the fridge and pouring you a glass of your favorite tarte pomegranate juice over ice.

“Last minute alterations are no big deal, and if the month before I have to order the damn dress in a whole other size and have it tailored the week of so be it” he hands you the glass and sits down next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and rubbing over your belly sweetly “Cause I’m makin’ us official” he said before kissing your temple gently. You stared into your class, there it was again. You thought of ways that you could ask him what he means by that, but before you could settle on one your son comes barreling out of his bedroom cheering

“Moooooommyyyy you’re home! I missed you!” He goes to jump in your lap in the careless child like way and Carmy quickly catches him

“Woooah!!” he scolded gently and scooped him into his lap with one arm “Remember what we said, Cub- who’s in Mama’s tummy?” he asks and your son gently pats your belly gently and looks at Carmy

“Baby sister!” he said happily and Carmy nods with a small smile

“Thats right honey, so we have to be extra gentle around Mama’s tummy, right? Gotta keep baby sister extra safe while she grows big and strong” he explained and Gio nods obediently

“Mommy we meet baby sister soon right? How many more weeks?” he asked excitedly and carefully crawled into your lap, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing your cheek sweetly.

“Hmmm, well why don’t you go look at the baby calender mmm? And see how many stars we have left to count?” you asked and he nodded happily, sliding off your legs and running off to his bedroom. When you and Carmy had told him that he was going to be a brother by giving him a t-shirt that said ‘Promoted to Brother Bear’ and a Kids book called ‘Archie the Bear becomes a Big Brother’ - he was over the moon and had asked you and Carmy every single day how many more days until he would meet his new baby sibling, and it was starting to drive you both mad.

So after 14 days of the same question he finally got sick and tired of answering, he made him a 40 slot calendar and each Sunday he got to put another star on the calendar. He had gotten him a sticker book of rainbow glittery stars, and sat with a ruler and a thin sharpie as well as an 11x17 piece of cardstock and drew out a ‘Weeks until brotherhood’ calendar and when he gave it to him the next morning he cried because he was so excited which in turn made you cry, and that made Carmy cry.

“22! I counted 22 squares left Mommy!” Gio shouts as he runs and jumps back into Carms lap and he grunts

“You’re getting to be a big boy huh?” he asked him, patting his back gently

“Doctor says it’s cause I eat my vegetables” he said proudly and Carmy chuckles with a nod

“That’s right buddy, d’you wanna help me get dinner started? Mm? Make somethin’ real nice f’r mommy yeah?” He asked him and Cub gasped excitedly

“Yes! Can I wash the vegetables?” he asked hopefully and hopped off his lap

“You can bud! Go wash up” Carm told him and he giggled happily as he ran off to the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom to do as he asked.

You look over at Carmy fondly and smile softly. “You’re so good at this Dad thing” you gently brush his curls from his eyes. He smiled and took your hand, kissing your palm and fixing your engagement ring so the stone was straight

“And you’re fucking amazing at this Mom thing, baby” He rubbed over your belly gently. “Were you still in the mood for the Birria tacos that you sent me last night?” he asked and you hum with a satisfied nod

“You are the best in the whole world. My back is killing, I think jellybean has been sitting on my tailbone since the drive home so I’m gonna go have a bath while you get that goin’ - hopefully the water gets her to move” You carefully got up and he stood of course quicker then you could given your condition and is sure to help you.

“That sounds like a great idea babe - here I gotchu I’ll get the bath ready you just focus on getting undressed and picking out some comfy clothes you wanna wear after yeah? I’ll make sure they’re nice and warm for you when you get out” he said as he helped you up the stairs. You were used to this routine now, his anxiety while you were pregnant very much mirrored his sisters, which was just taking care of absolutely every need you could possibly have assistance with and attempting to prophesize what the need would be before you’d even requested it. You had tried fighting him on it before but it just made everything worse, and when you finally relented and stopped being so stubborn, you saw it could be really nice to be doted on.

“You always make the best baths so I wont say no” you told him as your son came out of his room and heard you guys talking in your bedroom and came in getting up on your bed and sitting with you

“Whatcha doin mooommy” he said playfully and hugs around your neck before kissing your face and you giggle a bit at how he still grabbed peoples faces and mushed them into his lips in that little kid way when he kissed someone.

“Well Mommy needs a little bit of rest so Daddy is running me a bath, and you guys are gonna get to have bear and cub time while you make us some dinner yeah? You gonna do such a good job at cutting our vegetables?” you asked him and he nods happily

“One second Mommy- wait” he got off the bed by carefully sliding on his belly and runs off to his room, coming back a few moments later with his favorite spiderman submarine bath toy “Here Mommy, so you dont get bored” he said sweetly and handed it over.

You pout “Thank you, baby, that’s so kind of you to share your favorite toy” you kiss the top of his curly head and look up as Carmy came in from your ensuite bathroom “Look Daddy- Gio is sharing his favorite toy with me, Isn’t that so nice?” you gush and Carmy gasps, ever making big deals at good gestures and behaviors that Gio had exhibited.

“Wow, Gio! That’s a very nice thing to do. Are you gonna share your toys with baby sister when she gets here?” he squatted to his level and Gio nodded with a big smile showing his cute little baby teeth he would still have for a few more years.

“All of em’ Daddy just how Eva shares with me too! And- and we can teach baby sister how to make dinner with us- and we can show her how to play hide and seek -” Carmy nods and nods as he goes on humming along and when the kid finally paused to breathe Carmy seized the opportunity to pick him up.

“Mommy, your bath is ready, well be makin’ dinner” he gave you a peck on the lips and Gio copied him after which always made you giggle and pout because you knew by kindergarten he’d stop that, so you enjoyed these small innocent childlike things while you could.

“I love you both” you ruffled Gio’s hair on the way to the bathroom which made him giggle as Carmy made their way down to the kitchen. You made it into the bathroom and the scent of roses and honey hit your nose, emitting from the lukewarm bubblebath in the corner since Carmy knew taking hot baths early on could induce miscarriage or premature labor from the birthing classes that we attended. You had your tall refillable cup filled with lemon ice water, as well as a cup of lavender chamomile tea and your latest fantasy novel that you’d been indulging in before bed.

You hadn’t even realized how long you’d been in once you stripped and got to reading, that when Carmy came in he chuckled a bit. “I was expecting you to be sitting on the bed in your towel scrolling on your phone, you’ll be a prune come on baby this waters getting cold, heres your clothes theyre nice and warm” he turned the towel warmer off, opening it and resting the towel over his shoulder as he helped you up carefully and helped you wrap the bath sheet around yourself.

It was something that you (he) had indulged in purchasing during your last pregnancy when your belly had gotten too big for the regular towels you both had and that made you have a fit one morning, so he was sure with these towels it would never happen again and it hadn’t. He nestled the fluffy black fabric around the top of your breasts, under your arms, before tucking it so it wouldn’t slip. “I only have 15 chapters left, it was getting good” you explained as he helped you step out of the tub and stuck his arm in the soapy water, finding the plug for you and pulling it.

“Yeah? I got bedtime t’night babe. Dinners almost ready, it has like 30 minutes left simmering, I’ll go get his bath done now, and then after dinner we can settle down and watch a movie and you can read your book, mm?” he kissed your temple gently as you dried off before dropping your towel when he had put lotion on his hands and he rubbed some of your stretch mark cream on your tummy for you per your usual after bath/shower routine as you responded“I could go for another rerun of into the spiderverse, we both know thats what he’s gonna pick since he’s choosin’- and the apple doesnt ever fall too far” earning a chuckle from him that made you feel warm and fuzzy.

You heard giggles coming from Gio’s bathroom as Carmy gave him a bath, listening to him draw little animals for him and asking him what they are “Whats that one called, Cub?” you hear him ask

“Thats a Cow!!!” he replied excitedly

“Oh! I know what this one says - it’s easy, the Cow says…..meeeeow! Right?” Carmy said jokingly earning playful squeals and giggles from your son

“Noooo Daddy! The Cows say moo! The Kitties say meow!” he corrected matter of factly

“Whaaaat! Kid- I think you got your animals all mixed up, I’m pretty sure that Kitties say blub blub blub!” he jokes and your son laughed again

“Alright c’mon head back so we can rinse out this stinky hair” he teased earning a

“Noooo i’m not stinky you’re stinky!” from your son which made you giggle a bit. You made sure every 5 minutes or so you were making your way over to the simmering pot on the stove and giving it a stir, and being sure the homemade tortilla shells werent burning in the oven, before sitting back down and resuming your book. You only had to do that about 3 times before your son comes skipping out with his favorite blanket and stuffed brown bear in his tonka truck pajamas

“Mommy smell my hair!” he said and got up on the couch sitting on his knees next to you. You bent over and smelt his damp curly head and hum impressed

“Woooooow is that bluey strawberry shampoo?!” you asked him and he smiled and nodded “An-and after cookies Daddy said he will help me brush with the bluey strawberry toothpaste - move this now Mommy I wanna sit” he pushed your book out of your lap and plopped down

“What did Mama and Daddy say about please, mm? It’s polite to ask Mama and Daddy please if you want us to hold you” you reiterated and he nods, wrapping his arms around you

“Sorry mumma love you” he said and you rubbed his back gently, kissing the top of his head

“Love you too baby boy, lets go get your book so we can read while Daddy finishes up dinner?” you asked him and he nodded, getting up and walking over to the little shelf in the living room and squatting down looking at the titles. You smiled to yourself seeing as he was so big brained he could read at a kindergarten level 2 years early but was still wearing pull ups to bed.

“This one” he comes over with The Missing Piece meets The Big O by Shel Silverstein.

“Ohhhh, this one - Daddy looooves this one. He picked your favorite Daddy!” You held up the book and he turns and looks

“That's a great pick cub, momma does a great job at reading that one” he said and you smile, cuddling in Gio as he nestles into you close as you opened the book and beginning to read,

“The missing piece sat alone, waiting for someone to come and take it somewhere”

After so many tacos you looked 3 more months pregnant then you really were, you, Gio, and Carmy were snuggled up on the couch. You were in the middle because they both needed to be touching you apparently and Carmys arm was once again around your side rubbing your belly in sweet little strokes as you focused on your kindle while he and cub focused on the movie. Gio had insisted before you started it that he goes and gets his spiderman plush toy to hold during the movie and covered himself up in his spiderman blanket hoodie Richie and Eva had gotten him last Christmas as well.

You sigh contently resting your head on Carmy’s shoulder, smiling a bit to yourself as you feel the tiny little butterfly like kicks in your belly. “You cant feel it cause shes only a bell pepper right now, but shes moving all around, I think she hears you guys- or feels you, I dunno” you said softly. Carmy lights up

“Really?” he asked gently

“Hiiiiiiii baby sister!!!” Gio lifts up your shirt and says onto your stomach causing you to laugh.

“She said Hi big brother!” you tease and he giggled

“Babies cant talk mama! Baby cousin Mickey doesnt talk” he giggled and you lean in really close until your foreheads are touching

“Mmhmm- but I’m your Mama, and were connected - in our brains! Thats why you only get one mama! I heard her in my brain she said hi big brother I cant wait to meet you!” you said in a small mousey voice as you tickled him and he squealed and laughed, Carmy making sure to wrap his arm around your belly protectively in case he accidentally kicked you from the tickle attack.

“Ok! Ok no more please!” Gio said and you stopped, sitting up and he giggled

“You’re silly mommy” he wrapped you in a hug again, nuzzling his face on your ribs and kissing the top of your belly “I can’t wait to meet you too baby sister, we can watch Into the Spiderverse together - it’s the bestest movie ever” he said and got comfy laying on your arm again as you held him.

You got back into your book, only having about 4 chapters left before the end of it so you could hopefully be finishing the series by the time you give birth, knowing you you’ll be disappointed you wont know what would happen for a while since the newborn stage is just a whirlwind of tests and appointments and sleepless nights. When the movie had about 40 minutes left to it, Carmy gently squeezed your breast to get your attention and your head snaps up to look at him, he nodded over to Gio and you look on your side to see him peacefully sleeping next to you.

You sigh gently, knowing that once you woke him for teeth brushing and bed he would ask you about his cookie, and that would prolong bedtime - but you felt guilt for waking him up yourself. “Get the cookies” you whispered and he huffed a chuckle before carefully unwrapping himself from you before padding to the kitchen. As soon as he heard the crinkle of the pastry paper from the box after carmy got it out of the fridge he was sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Daddy can I have my cookie now?” he asked after yawning. You giggled shaking your head and ruffling his now dry hair

“Daddy was getting you your cookie bud, go sit at the table after I’ll help you brush and give you a kiss and Daddy will tuck you in and read you your story mm?” you ask and he nodded, going over to the table and you lifted him up into his chair.

“Thank you Daddy!” he said thankfully as Carmy set the plate with the entire chocolate chip cookie on it, one of the ridiculously big ones from the restaurant.

“Carm!” you look at the plate as Gio’s eyes widen and smile grows, picking up the cookie and taking a big bite.

“What! Thats not the only one!” He pointed to the box on the counter and you roll your eyes.

“Half next time, hes either gonna have nightmares or be bouncing off the walls at 4 am” you sigh a bit and went over to the box, taking one out and eating it over the kitchen sink. He followed you in, wrapping his arms around you and resting his hands on your belly, rubbing little back and forth strokes with the pads of his thumbs.

“My bad, Mama, sorry- I shoulda asked” He said gently and kissed the base of your neck “Can I have a nibble” he said in your ear low enough for only the two of you to hear before nibbling at the sweet spot on your neck and squeezing your breasts. You giggle quietly, knowing that Gio was too focused on the monstrous cookie in his hand to be anywhere other then cloud 9 right now.

“After you put cub to bed maybe i’ll think about it lover” you turn your face to the side, giving him a slow and gentle open mouthed kiss, holding the cookie up in front of your lips so if Gio just so happened to look up he wouldn’t see what was going on. It went on for a few moments, his hands trailing down to your hips that had never gone back to their original place after you gave birth, but each and every time you screwed he reminded you how much he loved it.

When Cub said “Mommy?” you jumped a bit, being so lost in the moment and pulled away, looking over

“Sup’ honey?” you asked

“Did dinosaurs have teeth?” he takes another bite of his cookie. You took a deep breath, shoving down the aggravation that was having nearly every moment of alone time being taken by your offspring

“Mmhmm! They had teeth” you answer evenly

“Did they like having teeth?” he wondered out loud and you shrug

“Daddy, did Dinosaurs like having teeth?” you asked and he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder

“We like having teeth, so I’d think so, cub. It helps them do alot of things, what do your teeth help you do?” he asked him knowing it was easiest if you gave a generic answer and tossed the ball back to them in regards to how kids went at this age

“We like to eat, and we eat candy, and we eat pasta, and - and we eat veggies-” he went on and you drop the rest of your cookie in the box.

“Let me know when he’s ready” you whispered to Carm and he nods, watching as you grabbed your kindle and headed back to the bedroom. It wasn’t that you were annoyed at Gio. It was just your hormones likely getting in the way. You were starting to creep up on that window of pregnancy where you were nearly insatiable all the time, needing more and more of Carmy - last time it went on for a solid 2 months, but this time it was starting earlier and you thought it likely had something to do with seeing just how good he was with your other little one, on top of all the hormones.

But, on top of having another kid this also made it very difficult to have that time with you, especially with having a kid home for summer break from pre-k, and having to manage work, and neither of you could bare for sending him off to some sleepaway camp, so you settled for him sleeping over Richies or Sugars when they really realized that Carmy was needing a break. He never dropped the ball with Gio, though. No matter how tired or worn thin or in need of a break he was, just like tonight - he would find time to get away, come home, make him dinner, and put him to bed before going back off to finish his shift and come home around one am.

It was only about another chapter of your book that went by before Carmy came to tag you in, gently knocking on the bedroom frame to get your attention. “He’s ready for you, im gonna take the trash out i’ll be right in for ‘em” he told you and you nodded with a small smile “Thanks Bear” you put your kindle on the nightstand and got up. You shuffled to his bedroom in your slippers and bedtime robe, hand rested over your belly as you walked and you see Cub sitting on his spiderman sheets in his racecar bed.

“Who’s ready to brush those teeth!” you went over and kissed the top of his head. He looked up from his little etch-a-sketch that he’d been playing with, “I am mama” he said sweetly before getting up and heading to his bathroom with you following behind.

Once Carmy had been suckered into 2 stories instead of just one, he was able to get Giovanni tucked in for the night and he came to bed. He had already started your nightly routine of rubbing shea butter on your belly and had moved on to rubbing your swollen aching feet with massage oil.

“So I was thinking earlier…” you look down at your ring that you hadnt taken off yet, nervously spinning it around your finger.

“M’listenin’” he tears his gaze from the cooking show he’d put on the tv as you read your book and you looked over at him, nervously biting the inside of your lip and he stopped rubbing your foot. “I know that look, whats going on?” he asked gently “Talk t’me princess” he told you and rubbed soothing strokes back and forth over the top of your foot and over your ankle.

“I just….my sister asked me if this was a shut up ring” you admit a bit nervously and he crinkled his brow in the sweet undoubtedly Carmy way

“The fuck is a shut up ring?” he asked. Allthough he swore, there was no anger in his voice, just genuine confusion.

“Like- like- I guess when a girl talks about getting married too much he will get her a ring or something just to get her to shut up even if hes not happy and he’s more likely to settle especially if you already have a baby - and you keep talking about making things real and this feels so real- but I just feel like you dont care” you swallowed the lump as it began to grow in your throat and his features softened, grabbing a kitchen towel he brought up to wipe his hands after he was done his massages for the night and wiped them clean of the oil to be sure he could rub your hair without getting it all oily.

“C’mere” he sat against the headboard and opened his arms. When you snuggled into him he rubbed your back gently and kissed the top of your head, allowing you to relax and shed a few tears as you needed to before he spoke again “I asked you to marry me, A - so that all this dumb tax shit is rectified, and B - in case god fuckin forbid baby, something happens to me or you - we get to decide whats next. I don’t-” he swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath before he continued. “I don’t want anyone to think they can steal what i’ve built for you, and our kids. The restaurant is theirs babe. That is their 60% stake in it. All of this, the house, our savings - all of it is for them. I want them to have no problem in getting it when we go” he explained and you could burst into tears at how relieved you felt.

Here you were, all these past few months keeping yourself up and pacing, making yourself sick over this - over thinking that you were becoming a chained burden to your future husband just because he created life with you. When the whole time you could have just talked to him, and your stupid pregnancy hormones were making you crazy thinking he would hate you for even asking. But instead of crying, ever the random hormone imbalance that came with pregnancy, you just started to laugh. You sat up, wiping your tears as you giggle, before pulling him into a kiss and he chuckled a bit when you pull away.

“Do you mind filling me in on the joke?” he asked and you nod with a smile

“I dont know why I was ever taking marriage advice from my sister who’s been divorced three times when your sister who’s only ever been happily married has been telling me that my sister is a fucking fuck”

187 notes · View notes

wingedtyger · 1 year

Text

How to Buy a Computer for Cheaper

Buy refurbished. And I'm going to show you how, and, in general, how to buy a better computer than you currently have. I'm fairly tech-knowledgeable, but not an expert. But this is how I've bought my last three computers for personal use and business (graphics). I'm writing this for people who barely know computers. If you have a techie friend or family member, having them help can do a lot for the stress of buying a new computer.

There are three numbers you want to know from your current computer: hard drive size, RAM, and processor speed (slightly less important, unless you're doing gaming or 3d rendering or something else like that)

We're going to assume you use Windows, because if you use Apple I can't help, sorry.

First is hard drive. This is how much space you have to put files. This is in bytes. These days all hard drives are in gigabytes or terabytes (1000 gigabytes = 1 terabyte). To get your hard drive size, open Windows Explorer, go to This PC (or My Computer if you have a really old OS).

To get more details, you can right-click on the drive. and open Properties. But now you know your hard drive size, 237 GB in this case. (this is rather small, but that's okay for this laptop). If you're planning on storing a lot of videos, big photos, have a lot of applications, etc, you want MINIMUM 500 GB. You can always have external drives as well.

While you've got this open, right-click on This PC (or My Computer). This'll give you a lot of information that can be useful if you're trying to get tech support.

I've underlined in red the two key things. Processor: it can help to know the whole bit (or at least the Intel i# bit) just so you don't buy one that's a bunch older, but processor models are confusing and beyond me. The absolutely important bit is the speed, in gigahertz (GHz). Bigger is faster. The processor speed is how fast your computer can run. In this case the processor is 2.60 GHz, which is just fine for most things.

The other bit is RAM. This is "random-access memory" aka memory, which is easy to confuse for, like how much space you have. No. RAM is basically how fast your computer can open stuff. This laptop has 16 GB RAM. Make sure you note that this is the RAM, because it and the hard drive use the same units.

If you're mostly writing, use spreadsheets, watching streaming, or doing light graphics work 16 GB is fine. If you have a lot of things open at a time or gaming or doing 3d modeling or digital art, get at least 32 GB or it's gonna lag a lot.

In general, if you find your current laptop slow, you want a new one with more RAM and a processor that's at least slightly faster. If you're getting a new computer to use new software, look at the system requirements and exceed them.

I'll show you an example of that. Let's say I wanted to start doing digital art on this computer, using ClipStudio Paint. Generally the easiest way to find the requirements is to search for 'program name system' in your search engine of choice. You can click around their website if you want, but just searching is a lot faster.

That gives me this page

(Clip Studio does not have very heavy requirements).

Under Computer Specs it tells you the processor types and your RAM requirements. You're basically going to be good for the processor, no matter what. That 2 GB minimum of memory is, again, the RAM.

Storage space is how much space on your hard drive it needs.

Actually for comparison, let's look at the current Photoshop requirements.

Photoshop wants LOTS of speed and space, greedy bastard that it is. (The Graphics card bit is somewhat beyond my expertise, sorry)

But now you have your three numbers: hard drive space, RAM (memory) and processor (CPU). Now we're going to find a computer that's better and cheaper than buying new!

We're going to buy ~refurbished~

A refurbished computer is one that was used and then returned and fixed up to sell again. It may have wear on the keyboard or case, but everything inside (aside from the battery) should be like new. (The battery may hold less charge.) A good dealer will note condition. And refurbished means any flaws in the hardware will be fixed. They have gone through individual quality control that new products don't usually.

I've bought four computers refurbished and only had one dud (Windows kept crashing during set-up). The dud has been returned and we're waiting for the new one.

You can buy refurbished computers from the manufacturers (Lenovo, Dell, Apple, etc) or from online computer stores (Best Buy and my favorite Newegg). You want to buy from a reputable store because they'll have warranties offered and a good return policy.

I'm going to show you how to find a refurbished computer on Newegg.

You're going to go to Newegg.com, you're gonna go to computer systems in their menu, and you're gonna find refurbished

Then, down the side there's a ton of checkboxes where you can select your specifications. If there's a brand you prefer, select that (I like Lenovos A LOT - they last a long time and have very few problems, in my experience. Yes, this is a recommendation).

Put in your memory (RAM), put in your hard drive, put in your CPU speed (processor), and any other preferences like monitor size or which version of Windows you want (I don't want Windows 11 any time soon). I generally just do RAM and hard drive and manually check the CPU, but that's a personal preference. Then hit apply and it'll filter down.

I'm going to say right now, if you are getting a laptop and you can afford to get a SSD, do it. SSD is a solid-state drive, vs a normal hard drive (HDD, hard disk-drive). They're less prone to breaking down and they're faster. But they're also more expensive.

Anyway, we have our filtered list of possible laptops. Now what?

Well, now comes the annoying part. Every model of computer can be different - it can have a better or worse display, it can have a crappy keyboard, or whatever. So you find a computer that looks okay, and you then look for reviews.

Here's our first row of results

Let's take a look at the Lenovo, because I like Lenovos and I loathe Dells (they're... fine...). That Thinkpad T460S is the part to Google (search for 'Lenovo Thinkpad T460s reviews'). Good websites that I trust include PCMag, LaptopMag.com, and Notebookcheck.com (which is VERY techie about displays). But every reviewer will probably be getting one with different specs than the thing you're looking at.

Here are key things that will be the same across all of them: keyboard (is it comfortable, etc), battery life, how good is the trackpad/nub mouse (nub mice are immensely superior to trackpads imho), weight, how many and what kind of ports does it have (for USB, an external monitor, etc). Monitors can vary depending on the specs, so you'll have to compare those. Mostly you're making sure it doesn't completely suck.

Let's go back to Newegg and look at the specs of that Lenovo. Newegg makes it easy, with tabs for whatever the seller wants to say, the specs, reviews, and Q&A (which is usually empty).

This is the start of the specs. This is actually a lesser model than the laptop we were getting the specs for. It's okay. What I don't like is that the seller gives very little other info, for example on condition. Here's a Dell with much better information - condition and warranty info.

One thing you'll want to do on Newegg is check the seller's reviews. Like on eBay or Etsy, you have to use some judgement. If you worry about that, going to the manufacturer's online outlet in a safer bet, but you won't quite get as good of deals. But they're still pretty damn good as this random computer on Lenovo's outlet shows.

Okay, so I think I've covered everything. I do recommend having a techie friend either help or double check things if you're not especially techie. But this can save you hundreds of dollars or allow you to get a better computer than you were thinking.

#computers #buying computers #laptops

990 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 6 months

Text

Answer My Call Chapter 3 part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! Answer My Call won by all one one vote last week. I was a bit nervous since I'm starting a new POV and I wasn't sure if I wanted to write from Tucker's POV or Tim's, but I settled on Tucker because it would let me dive into the action a bit sooner.

Story Summary: Danny's missing. The GIW have taken over Amity. Jazz, Tucker, and Sam are under constant surveillance and have been scattered across the country.

When Jazz's messages to Danny go to the wrong number, Red Hood decides to step in.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

Tucker was alone in his dorm room working on homework. His desk was in the corner in a way that meant his computer screen faced the wall. It meant he had barely three feet of space to sit in, but after everything that had happened, he couldn’t let anyone sneak up behind him to spy on his work.

His roommate hated him for it because it took up so much extra space in their small room, but he was never around anyway, so Tucker didn’t really care what he thought.

He jumped when a loud knocking sounded on his door.

“Coming!” he called out as he took the time to save everything he had open and close all programs. He slammed it shut and squeezed out of his chair, half running to the door. “Sorry ‘bout the wait. Tyler isn’t here right now, I think he said something about spending time with Liz?”

Then he actually looked at the people at his door. The one was a broad boy wearing a spiked leather jacket over jeans. The other had a bulky sweatshirt on and a baseball cap. His face was shadowed as he was looking down at a tablet, typing away.

The bigger one was grinning at him. “You’re Tucker, right? We’re here to see you, not Tyler.”

Tucker blinked at them. “Why?” he asked, confused. People had given up on being friendly with him weeks ago.

The boy with the tablet huffed. “We’re here to invite you to our club.”

Tucker looked between them in confusion. “What?”

Tablet guy still didn’t look up. “We heard you like ghosts. We’re the officers of the student horror club and wanted to offer you a spot. Mind letting us in so we can tell you about it?”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not interested in joining any clubs right now. Thanks, but no thanks.” He went to shut the door, but leather jacket stuck out his foot, keeping it from shutting.

“Just hear us out. We think you’d be perfect for it as an expert on ghosts.”

Tucker clenched his fists to hide their shaking. What did they know? Who sent them? He glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tablet boy raised his head slightly, revealing a domino mask covering his eyes. He grinned, more a baring of teeth than anything. In a tone just loud enough to be heard, he said, “One of my associates is currently in Boston. I decided to come here instead.” In a normal ton he added, “Let me tell you about the horror club.”

Tucker’s mouth fell open. How? Boston? What had Jazz done? His eyes flitted down the hallway. But they were blocking his path and he wouldn’t be able to get past them. Dumbly, he stepped back, opening the door further.

Leather jacket grinned at him. “Thanks, dude,” he said.

Behind them, Tucker shut the door. His hand fell to his pocket where a lipstick laser was hidden.

Tablet boy was already pulling the blinds down over the window. When done, he handed his tablet to Tucker. It was open to a message that said: “We’re on your side. Turn off your devices. I’m going to set off a EMP and signal jammer.”

Tucker nodded and handed the tablet back.

Leather Jacket cleared his throat. “So, with the horror club, we meet once a week…”

Tucker only half-listened to his spiel. He used his phone to send a coded warning to Dani before turning it off. Then he went through his belongings and did the same to every laptop, PDA, tablet, and gaming system. If he turned on a ghostly recording device hidden inside an action figure, however, no one would know.

As soon as he was done, he nodded to Tablet Guy who pulled out a black cube from his backpack and pressed a button. The he pulled out another device and turned that on as well.

“That’s enough, Kon,” he said, pulling off his cap.

Leather Jacket—Kon?—grinned. “What, you don’t want to hear about my favorite horror movie, Rob?”

“I introduced you to your favorite horror movie. I know it as well as you do.”

Kon just laughed. Then he unzipped his jacket, revealing a blue outfit with Superman’s “S” on it.

“Holy shit,” breathed Tucker. What had Jazz done?

Tablet guy followed, pulling off his cap and removing his hoodie, revealing a red costume with a gold bird medallion in the center of his chest. “Nice to meet you, Tucker. I’m Red Robin, and this is Superboy. I’ve got some questions for you.”

Tucker’s eyes jumped between the two. “Holy shit,” he repeated.

Superboy laughed. “Didn’t expect to see us?”

Tucker could only shake his head. “You said Boston?” he asked.

“Red Hood is with Jazz as we speak. She asked for our help in rescuing Danny. We agreed.”

Tucker tensed. He was lying. They’d talked about reaching out to the Justice League dozens of times, but had decided they couldn’t be trusted. Jazz wouldn’t have gone to them. He reached into his pocked and pulled out the lipstick.

Both heroes tensed, though their wariness turned to confusion when they saw he only had a small lipstick tube.

Good, let them underestimate him. “Jazz wouldn’t go to the Justice League. We agreed it wasn’t safe. Why are you really here?”

Red Robin grinned at him and held up his hands. “All right, you’re right. I simplified for time’s sake. Jazz has been sending messages to a phone number she thought belonged to her brother Danny. But really, they were going to Red Hood. He’d been getting them for ages now, but was…out of town. As soon as he got back, he began looking into Amity and the GIW. When he couldn’t find anything, he brought me in on the case. When that still didn’t work, we called Jazz back. She decided to take a chance on us since Red Hood doesn’t work with the government. And, honestly, I’ve done quite a bit outside the law, too, even if I’m not as public about it.”

Tucker’s grip on the lipstick tightened and he stuck his nail under the cap, ready to flick it off at a moment’s notice. “Prove it.”

Red Robin pulled up his tablet again and tapped a few places. An audio recording started to play.

Tucker stopped breathing when he recognized Jazz’s voice. He closed his eyes and just listened. When he heard her demand a picture and the pose she asked for, he huffed out a laugh.

The recording ended and he slid the lipstick back into his pocket and wiped at his eyes.

“Okay, I believe you. What’s the plan?”

“Right now we want to make sure you, Jazz, and Sam are safe and find out as much information as we can.”

Tucker nodded. “I’m not as closely watched as Jazz. The school keeps close track of us students and the Guys in White rely on their records. Though they do have an agent stationed in admin who checks up on me at least once a week. I don’t keep my most sensitive belongings in this dorm as it’s searched every other week.”

Red Robin grinned at him. It sent shivers down Tucker’s back. “Does that mean your real stuff is kept somewhere else?”

Tucker smirked. “Of course. Cover yourselves back up; we need to go.”

Red Robin did something with his jammer and EMP and then began talking excitedly about the horror club again. “So glad you’ve agreed to come to our next meeting, Tucker! We’ve been trying to build the club.”

Superboy winked at him. “What do you say we get to know each other a bit before then? Want to come play video games with us?”

Tucker bit his lip and looked towards his desk and laptop as if he were undecided. “I should get back to my homework…”

“Oh, come on, it’ll still be there tomorrow,” said Red Robin. “Let’s go.” He looked back down at his tablet and headed towards the door, grabbing Tucker’s hand as he did.

Tucker looked over his shoulder one last time, but let himself be pulled along. They kept conversation light as they exited the building. Red Robin was an expert at angling his baseball cap to hide his masked face from every camera they passed.

Would he be willing to teach Tucker how to do that?

Once outside, Tucker took the lead. One of the first things he’d done after he’d been enrolled was memorize blueprints for every building on campus. On top of that, he’d made himself a good dozen different IDs. Three of those were copies of other students’. Those students he kept close track of to make sure their records didn’t show them in two places at once. Other ones belonged to various faculty and staff members. But his pride and joy was the one that belonged to Gabriel Carter. Gabriel was a janitor at the Academy and so could access any building. Gabriel also didn’t exist.

It was Gabriel’s ID that got them access to the basement level of one of the buildings. Hidden deep in the building was a set of rooms currently not in use. And in one of those rooms was a closet.

Tucker had built the locks on the door himself and, even having all the keys and codes, it took five minutes to get in.

He smirked when Red Robin himself let out a gasp of surprise at his set up.

-----

Hope you enjoyed!

Now, how did Kon get involved? Easy. Tim used the zeta tube from the cave to Titans Tower. Kon happened to be there. When Tim said he was working a case with Red Hood, the guy who tried to kill him once, Kon insisted on coming along. I debated having other members of the Young Justice, but I'm actually trying to keep character counts down for this one, so...

Check out the subscription post if you want a notification when I update!

#dpxdc #answer my call #wolf writes #tucker has learned a healthy dose of paranoia #his roommate tyler hates him #spends most of his time outside the dorm because of it #tucker enjoys basically having a single #he isn't able to relate to regular teens anymore #too used to fighting supernatural beings #and being persecuted by the government #and he doesnt want to be here #so he doesnt try to make friends #and discourages anyone from getting close to him

155 notes · View notes

jojo-oliver · 1 year

Text

How to tumblr for artists… my own version

A collection of things that have been working for me, but may not work for everyone

~~~ your posts ~~~

!!!reblog your own stuff!!! you need to reblog your own stuff, there is nothing morally wrong with reblogging your own stuff regularly. in fact, it is morally right to allow the chance for more people to see your artwork.

~~~ queue it!! ~~~ my queue is 500 posts strong. maybe don't try to make your queue hundreds of posts strong in the same day omg but like… once every month or two i'll go through my whole blog and just scroll and "add to drafts" to every one of my own posts i have. then i'll use the "mass post editor" to add content warning tags. and add to queue, and shuffle. and then I write down what the date was for when I last added my posts to be reblogged on queue. this is helped by turning on timestamps for posts in tumblr "dashboard preferences" settings.

queueing is necessary and life saving for me. It takes out so much work with decision fatigue and the anxiety around posting. It also guarantees that even if I suddenly need time off or away from my phone, I don't just disappear and lose all traction. It also breaks the instant-gratification cycle that you expect when you finish an artwork. It's hard to keep creating when you post something and, when you're expecting to get that gratification, you get none... If you queue your new artwork to come out at a later time, you've separated that expectation - with time. It hurts less and contributes to a more consistent gratification thing instead of peaks and troughs.

~~~ tag ya stuff ~~~ when you're making a new post, the first 20 tags are what gets put into the searchable tags. do not feel shame for using lots of tags. shame is the mind-killer. tags are hard. hard to know what to tag a post with. hard to remember the tags. so I found some ways to help myself. maybe they'll help you too. dedicate some time towards just figuring out what tags you want to use. i have a list in my phone notes that i add tags to and reference whenever i'm making a new post. i have the phone right beside the laptop while i'm tagging so that i can just look at it and scroll. tags are the only way for people to find your artwork, other than people manually coming to your blog because they saw you somewhere. there is no algorithm. posting without tags, until you have an established fanbase, is throwing something into the void.

When I'm doing tag research, I look at what people seem to use - when you put something in the search bar, tumblr recommends you some that have a higher following, typically. Looks like this on desktop:

if you like one tag, look at what other people who use that tag also tag their posts with. Observe and learn how this tag is used. search through a bunch of them and write them down.

here's what i got in my notes, for the specific kind of art I post and look for:

these tags are sort of specific to me and the kind of art I make. You'll want to research your own tags, but this is an example of how I keep them organized to make posting more effective. I generally only write down a tag when it's got more than 2k followers. You might be tempted to use the tags with millions of followers, but I've actually found those a lot less functional for small artists. If your stuff doesn't immediately get a bunch of notifications, you're drowned out and pushed to the bottom much faster. But the bigger tags are better than no tags, so I keep them if I can't think of anything else to tag something with.

~~~ post at the right times….? ~~~

fridays and saturdays is when I post fresh new things... usually. every website has it's own peak hours, and you can find those hours in many different online articles that try to sell you social media growth services. tumblr is unique in having later hours.

here's some random graph from google images:

please don't over think this. please don't let this consume the idea of when to post, preventing you from posting at all. it doesn't mean too much - if you post during very active hours, maybe your art would just be pushed down the feed faster. if you post at the end of hours, maybe everyone's going to sleep… if you post at inactive hours, maybe there's less 'competition'… if you post at the beginning of active hours, maybe that's just more time for your post to circulate for the day, if you have enough people reblogging it once it drops....

this also is in EST. So fuck the other time zones, I guess. I'm over here in europe knowing that the "best" time to post would be like 2-3am or something. It's like this for most english-speaking majority sites - higher traffic in north american time zones.

it's also worth mentioning that this is scattered as heck, compared to other social media sites. and it's not like, the activity times of your followers. it's not the best time to post for your niche. this is just tumblr, broadly. all of tumblr.

~~~ Plan ahead for annual dates ~~~

Your artwork will get more circulation if it's posted on a celebratory day. You could just put them on your calendar and if you're wondering what to make, look on the calendar for what's coming soon. For example, asexual awareness day, trans day of visibility, location-specific holidays, etc. Here's my phone notes thing with my own recorded annuals:

I got these dates from googling and reading different articles, but I find that I still miss dates, and then I add them for next year. If you know of some I missed, tell me and I'll add them please <3

~~~ reblog other people's stuff ~~~

tumblr is sorta about ecosystems. things get passed around within groups of people that are all following eachother. to enter this ecosystem, you must engage and reblog other people's stuff too.

if you reblog other artists' stuff, sometimes they'll come over and reblog your stuff too. sometimes they'll follow you back. this is called becoming a mutual. I'll search specific tags for the kinds of people I want to follow and the kind of art I like - those are listed in the screenshot of my tag note under "Tags for finding new people".

I see a lot of blogs out there that are very clean, posts are tagless, and are only for the artists' content. like scrolling through a portfolio. I imagine this is good for people who are migrating to tumblr but already have their own established fanbase from elsewhere.

you don't need to do reblog other people's stuff on your art blog, you can do this on a separate blog. but if the two don't look very closely correlated, it's hard to tell who you are when you're interacting. and hard to make sure people know that you are the same person as your art blog. and you gotta remember to promote yourself on your personal blog.

~~~ have an art tag ~~~

make your blog easy to search!

if i go to your blog, and you've written 'artist' or 'sometimes art' in your bio, i wanna see it… it make me so sad when i don't get to see it. i want to reblog it. please let me reblog it :(

to make a tag on your own blog searchable, you don't need to repost it to add a tag. you don't even need to reblog it. you can actually just go back to the original post and edit it to add your tag. I've seen post people just have their art tag be something like #(blogname)art . you can see my own in my tags image above. if it's very unique, then it'll work tumblr-wide. I think that's good, since the tumblr search function is really weird. Otherwise it should still work if it's not entirely unique, people just have to make sure they're searching specifically your blog to see only your stuff.

I like to have a link in my pinned post where people can click to have immediately searched for my art tag. Convenience is king. Keep in mind that most people are on mobile, and if something isn't immediately clickable, they often won't find it.

~~~ be consistent and be patient ~~~

!!!this time will pass anyway!!! how many notes you have is not correlated with how good you are as an artist. wanting to earn something from your art means you essentially have two jobs. two potentially full time jobs. this shit's difficult. most of the job is promoting yourself. don't undersell how hard it is to do… don't feel bad for not immediately succeeding. I would write about how hard it's been to promote myself, but it would just be long and sad I think.

This isn't a full guide, please feel free to add more!!

I'm sure in another year I'll disagree with a lot of this, it will become irrelevant with time, and I'll have a lot of different opinions. Chip in and share what you've been doing? Teach me? This is very overwhelming. Don't do it all at once, just like, try one thing at a time, and see how it works for you. Your niche might be different. One size does not fit all. If you're confused about some of the things I talk about in here, you might be on mobile. I do most of my queueing and posting from the desktop browser version.

I will update this with more as things change, but I think you'll have to click through to see the updated post

#pinned #beginner artist #small artist #queer artist #trans artist #artists on tumblr #artist support #artistsupport #new artist #art blog #art on tumblr #lgbt artist #lgbtq artist

367 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 1 year

Text

Now that I’m home and avoiding work, notes from the Europe trip in terms of travel and...for lack of a better word self-care, but it’s really more like, accessibility centered around being a) anxious and b) over forty.

-- The ability to do laundry was nice. I’d anticipated it would be helpful but not nearly as helpful as it was. Also having a fridge was super convenient, and having an oven was a nice perk in London and Rome.

-- I planned to be able to do laundry so I only brought five days’ worth of clothes, and some were ‘disposable’ which was also convenient -- I brought my oldest underwear that I would have thrown out soon anyway, an extremely old pajama shirt, and at least one pair of trousers that was, as it were, on its last legs. That all worked fantastically; when I ran out of room in the suitcase on the last day of the trip I just tossed the trousers, and I’d already thrown out most of the underwear.

-- I was more self-conscious than anticipated about my language limitations, which led to a lot of avoidance -- not anything I really wanted to do, like museums and the football match, but things I could have done, like eating out or going into shops. It was mostly to do with the look people got on hearing English out of my mouth. So either I need to learn more basic phrases or be more prepared for the look. (To be fair, in Rome I would say mi dispiace, sono American and they’d immediately be cool.)

-- My stash of granola/protein bars was clutch, and going to a grocery store for staples was also very helpful. Turns out wherever you go, even if they don’t have Diet Coke, they almost always have babybel cheese.

-- No day trips between cities. Going from London to Cambridge and back for the day was great; going from London to Amsterdam to Paris in a single day was not. If I’m going somewhere new and not going back somewhere familiar at end of day, I need to get there, sleep, have a full day there, and leave either that evening or the following morning at minimum.

-- Relatedly: I don’t have to do this thing anymore where I book early departures or late arrivals because they’re cheap and don’t use up my vacation time. They only make me anxious. From now on even if it ‘wastes’ a day, I only book travel that departs and arrives during daylight hours. It’s always fine, nothing bad happens, but the anxiety is Too Much.

-- The tablet and bluetooth keyboard in lieu of a laptop worked well. It wasn’t much lighter or more compact, but I was less worried about theft and because it charged via USB I didn’t have to wrangle an extra cord, I could just unplug my phone and plug the tablet in. That configuration also fit in my very small bag where a laptop wouldn’t, so I could carry it in my bag while in transit and not have to get my luggage out of the rack.

-- The Very Small Bag (a map case) worked fine but while I didn’t need a bigger one I could have used one with more pockets. I was always losing the exact thing I needed in the jumble at the bottom of the bag. I think for longer trips I prefer a small messenger bag that has both a reasonable main cargo compartment but also pockets for stuff like passport and spare battery.

Overall, a lot of the stuff I’d planned went off well, so at this point it’s less about logistics -- what to pack, how to pack it -- than it is about arranging things to lower anxiety and make transitions easier. That kind of thing sometimes you just need to experience in order to know how to handle it, so that’s fine. Next time I won’t be angry about Amsterdam when it’s not Amsterdam’s fault, or stuck waiting for a bus late at night at Rome Termini.

#sam travels

189 notes · View notes

jqmalikhsgib · 6 months

Text

stars

nine

yn adjust the camera making sure it didn’t show her baby bump. she is about to do an interview discussing the album and fenty beauty. she didn’t need to world to see her bump just yet.

“rihanna! it’s so great to have you on the show!”

yn smiles. “it’s great to be here!” she states honestly. yn is really excited to discuss more about the album and she’s really excited to discus more about fenty beauty. she’s been working on her cosmetic line for a few years now! wanting everything to be absolutely perfect.

yn is now onto making her last name into an even bigger brand. she’s now getting into the fashion world and making sexy lingerie, bras, a few t-shirt designs, even making men boxers and everything you could think of. yn is ready for this new era in her life!

this just means she gets to be home more with her babies and her husband. she’d still travel here and there, but she’d be able to work from home instead of moving around too much.

aaron’s excited about that. he’d expressed he’s going to be putting in less hours as well! with derek and david willing to help out with more paperwork, he figured he could take advantage of that so he could get home to his family as soon as possible.

“so, we saw you’re currently married. congratulations are in order!”

“thank you!”

“how’s married life treating you? from our end you look absolutely stunning!”

yn blushes. “yeah, it’s been great! my husband and i got married two months back. we’re really enjoying married life. although if you talk to my mother she’d say we were already married. just made it official in the court of law.” yn giggles.

“mothers are always speeding up the process. id like to think mine just wanted me and my husband to give her grandchildren right after the wedding.”

yn laugh.

“how’s the album coming along? we hear this one’s gonna be the last for awhile.”

“yeah, im in the process of doing other projects. it just came down to wanting to spend as much time with the people i love, you know? ill get back into my music eventually. for now i think the fans will enjoy other plans i have!”

“like fenty beauty, correct?”

“yeah!”

“how long have you been working on your cosmetics line?”

“for about two years! i wanted it to be perfect and inclusive! so many different skin tones out there, you know? i have family members with darker complexions than mine. a lot of times they couldn’t find the right foundation or concealer. i wanted to make sure that everyone feels included. not left in the dust!”

“i understand that completely. took me awhile to find one that matches my skin tone even slightly. what else can we expect from fenty beauty?”

“it won’t just be makeup, it’ll also lead to having a better skin care routine. i just got a few family members into taking better care of their skin. you wouldn’t believe what most of them said they use for their skin.” yn shivers.

“well, i for one am really excited about fenty beauty and about this next album. when can we expect another single? and do you have a date for when the album is released?”

“the next single is out the twenty-second and the album will be released the eight of next month! along with a few other surprises!” yn winks into the camera.

“you heard it here first, folks! rihanna album will be released february eight! that was rihanna. thank you for your time, ri.”

“thank you for having me.” yn waves before shutting her laptop. she turns over and spots aaron staring at her. “what?” she blushed.

“just—you’re so fucking beautiful.” aaron kisses her shoulder.

“baby,”

“i mean it.”

yn leans over and aaron kisses her passionately. “how much time we got?” aaron groans.

yn turns to look at the clock. jessica currently has jack. she took him to the park to give yn alone time for the interview.

“twenty minutes.”

aaron smirks. “that’s enough time!”

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch x reader #jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #stars jqhotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader

30 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 6 months

Text

The Interview - Chapter 15

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating: E

Warnings: none

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 1844

Summary: Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America. Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

A/N: My laptop broke last week and updates will be very sporadic until I get it back. Sorry about that.

Chapter 15

Melody tapped her pen on the desk in front of her as she waited for everything to be set up properly. The website was launching this week and they wanted to do it with a big name. So she had pulled the strings she didn’t want to pull to get one. They had their idea for their light, silly interview segments, and they were starting with one of the biggest names there were; Tony Stark.

It had been a long time since she met the self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist at the party where Steve had first confessed he was interested in her. Back then she was just the woman interviewing Captain America, and while all Steve’s friends had been more than friendly, she was just a journalist back then, and the small amount she had spoken to anyone other than Steve, Bucky, or Sam, they had been on guard and performing for her.

Since then, Steve hadn’t invited her around to socialize with the rest of his friends. Of course, she knew Bucky and Sam well, but the rest not so much. On occasion, she might see one of them in the hall or the lobby when she slept over, but no other social occasions had brought them together. Not that she particularly expected there to be, but it did mean that to get Tony she had gone through his PR people, dropping names in a way that made her feel a little dirty. She hoped that this and the Spider-Man interview coming up would entice more celebrities to say yes. She had other famous names she’d interviewed and created connections with thanks to the DB, but with this new site, it was hard for the bigger names to want to take the risk of being first.

She was grateful that Tony agreed to do it, but she worried that it was going to flop and not only would no one else agree to do any of these interviews, but Tony Stark would end up looking at her as the person who had publicly humiliated him, which would, in turn, would make things awkward with her and Steve.

She scribbled down a note to herself about trying to find a way to make Steve feel particularly cherished. She didn’t want him to ever think she was with him because of who he knew.

As she was writing the huge double doors at the end of the tiny studio opened and Norah Winters came marching into the room like a woman on a mission. She pulled up by the desk and flipped her blonde hair behind her head. “Heard you used some nepotism to pull Tony Stark,” she said. “You realize this is why Jameson chose you for this job, don’t you? You’re not a real journalist, you just sleep with people to get exclusives.”

Melody closed her notebook and blinked up at her. “Thank you for your valuable input, Norah. You are indeed a fantastic investigative journalist. I’ll nominate you for a Pulitzer. Woman running a fluff website pulled strings to get good guests. News at seven.”

She rolled her eyes and went to take the notebook off the table. Melody grabbed it before she could and tucked it into her pocket. “You’re seriously happy with Jameson just using you like this?”

“Norah, I really don’t know what your problem is,” Melody said. “I know you love to count the hits on your articles, but I also know you’re a real journalist. A sleazy one, sure, but you do investigate things. I’m not. I never have been. I write fluff pieces and now I produce silly online content to appeal to people who don’t read the news. Every YouTuber on the planet calls in favors from their friends. I don’t know what coming in here trying to call me out on that means anything to you.”

Norah rolled her eyes. “We used to be a serious paper.”

“That’s not true,” Melody snarked. “You were a tabloid at best. I think what you’re annoyed about is you’re not the one getting all the attention anymore. Go start a gossip blog if it bothers you that much. Make up some stuff.”

“I don’t make things up,” she snapped.

“Oh no… you bend the truth to fit your narrative. There’s a reason the Avengers don’t agree to interviews with you.”

“The Avengers are …”

“Oh yes? What are we, dear? I’d love to hear it.”

Both Norah and Melody whipped around to see Tony Stark enter the room. He was with a small entourage of his own people as well as one of the interns and Bobbi.

“Mister Stark,” Melody said, getting up and coming over to him, holding out her hand to greet him.

“Ms Danes,” he said, taking her hand. Rather than shake it though, he drew her in close and kissed her cheek. “You look as ravishing as when I last saw you.”

“I really hope that’s not true,” Melody said. “I was aiming at ravishing last time. Now I’m going for professional.”

Tony laughed and turned his attention back to Norah. “You were saying, Ms Winters?”

“I was saying that I have better places to be. Good to see you, Mister Stark,” she said with a nod, quickly hurrying out of the room.

Tony laughed. “She normally has much more fight than that,” he said.

Melody laughed and shook her head. “I think she’s jealous I got the promotion,” she said and gestured for Tony to sit. “Thank you so much for agreeing to do this for me, Tony.”

“Not a problem. I have to admit, I was excited to get a chance to see you again. I know you and Cap are getting serious and I’m getting a little offended he’s been keeping you away from me,” he said. “So what’s the premise? I’m eating things while I answer questions?”

“We have some recipes that were featured in Magazines from the year you were born and you and Bobbi will try them together. Some are a little suspect, but we made sure there’s nothing there on your no-go list,” Melody explained. “The questions are light. It’s just supposed to be silly and fun. You can answer truthfully or go for the joke, whatever you want.”

“As long as no one hands me anything, it’ll be fine,” he said. “Bobbi and I will have a great time. I know how disgusting 70s food can be.”

“That’s good,” Melody said. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Tony laughed hard and got comfortable in his chair while Bobbi took the opposite him. She ran through her intro easily. Melody wasn’t surprised, Bobbi was so excited about this job she’d been practicing her lines constantly at home. Sometimes Melody had heard her repeating them over and over in the shower.

When she was done explaining the premise and introducing Tony, Melody brought over the first dish, putting it on the desk beside them, so that Bobbi could slide it into view of the camera.

“And what is this delightful-looking ring of green jello?” Tony asked.

“This is a Guacamole mold,” Bobbi said, raising her eyebrow.

“Good lord, what did Mexican cuisine ever do to you?” Tony teased as he pushed the plate back and forth, making the ring giggle around the green leaf salad that it surrounded.

“I think it might be illegal for me to eat this,” Bobbi joked.

She cut them each a slice and put it on a cracker and the two toasted each other before taking a bite. “Wow, that’s rank,” Tony said, covering his mouth as he spoke. Bobbi broke down into laughter as she tried to swallow the food in her mouth.

“See I knew there would be jello, but I was not expecting avocado,” Tony said as he swallowed.

“Does it bring back childhood memories?” Bobbi asked.

Tony laughed and shook his head. “I was pretty young during the era of putting everything in gelatin, but I also think that was more of a middle-class thing. I mostly remember fondue and oysters Kilpatrick from the one or two parties I got to go to when I was just a little kid.”

Melody put another dish on the desk and took the guacamole ring away. Bobbi moved it in front of her.

“Jesus Christ, what is that?” Tony cursed as he looked at the gelatin ‘salad’ filled with pimento and shredded red cabbage. “It looks like a brain.”

“Well from the looks of it we’re sticking to the middle-class party food,” Bobbi answered. “This is Rosy Perfection Salad.”

Tony started laughing. “Oh yes, complete perfection.”

The interview continued with them sampling foods such as; Salmon crisp crumble, a dish resembling a cottage pie using salmon instead of lamb and potato chips instead of mash; Creamed Liver Loaf, a dish that sat somewhere on the chart between meatloaf and pate and was made with livers and wrapped in bacon; Celebration Basket, a basket made of baked meringue filled with fruit that both agreed was pretty tasty; Celebration Sandwich, a large multi-layered sandwich, cut to look like a cake and covered in cream cheese and sliced olives; and one more ‘salad’ that consisted of puréed corned beef in gelatin. Tony and Bobbi spoke easily like two old friends, and Tony opened up about his childhood, and what it was like becoming Iron Man all those years ago. His openness was completely unexpected, and Melody was impressed with how at ease Bobbi made Tony feel.

When it was all finished Tony stood and offered Bobbi his hand. “That was so much fun,” he said. “Thank you.”

“No thank you,” she said. “This was my first time doing anything like that, I think my heart was about to beat out of my chest. I was so nervous at the start.”

“Oh you were great,” Tony said. “You’re a complete natural.”

He turned to Melody and offered her his hand too. Melody shook it with a smile. “Thanks, Tony. I owe you one.”

“It was nothing, really,” he said. “Though I do need to go eat something to wash the taste of Post McCarthyism out of my mouth.”

Melody snorted. “I am sure we have soda or coffee around here somewhere,” she said.

He waved her away. “It’s fine. I’ll stop at Burger King on the way out. But you two should come around to the tower for dinner sometime. It’s about time the team met Cap and Freezer Burns’ new Bae. Is bae the word everyone is using now?”

“It is not,” Bobbi said. “And did you just call him freezer burn?”

Tony smirked and raised an eyebrow at her. “If the cryogenic unit fits… So shall we say Friday? The Tower? Seven-thirty?”

“Sounds good,” Melody said laughing. “We’ll see you then.”

They watched Tony leave with his entourage and Bobbi turned to Melody. “Well, that’s going to be interesting.”

“Don’t worry,” Melody said. “It’ll be just like meeting his parents.”

Bobbi laughed and nudged her. “Wow, that makes it way better. Thanks for that.”

// NEXT

#marvel #avengers #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x ofc #ofc #original character fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #the interview #avengerscompound

25 notes · View notes

utronabalcone · 3 months

Text

crystal castles: "we predict a riot", jun 17, 2008

PART 2

crystal castles gained international attention after a uk record label discovered a rough recording of a mic check dubbed alice practice that the band put on myspace in 2005 and forgot about for six months. this led to a series of limited-edition 7-inches on various hip uk imprints that sold out immediately. suddenly, glass and kath were being courted by labels amidst a whirlwind of touring over the past two years.

“the bidding wars in some countries were pretty intense. they just kept throwing bigger numbers at us. i think it’s because they work so hard promoting bands and then no one cares. no one promoted us and everyone cares, so they all want a piece of that.” - kath

though their strange success story may be credited to the power of the internet, don’t expect them to be spokes people for the demise of the record label. they want their fans to hear the music, and apparently the fans actually do still want to buy cds. their myspace page is flooded with messages from people trying to find their still-unreleased disc.

“people assume that because everyone talks about us, there’s a cd in the stores,” - kath says.

the label is so concerned that the album might get leaked online that it hasn’t released any preview copies, so we’ve been listening to the disc while we talk. nevertheless, a widely downloaded and reviewed version has been passed around the file-sharing sites, which will cause much confusion when the real album actually drops.

“i originally gave alice a cd of 24 songs to choose from back when we first started, and some kid took 16 of them and put them up on the Internet as the album, and people have been reviewing it. i’ve actually read some very positive reviews for the 2004 demos.” - kath

the real album is sort of a chronology of the band, starting with some recordings from 2005 and ending not long ago. if you only know them from the notorious mic check song alice practice or their klaxxons remix, you may be surprised at how many soft and melodic moments join the high-octane distorto-dance listeners associated them with. the last track, an atmospheric ballad based on an acoustic guitar and 40 layers of glass’s voice, sounds more like the work of a shoegazer band like slowdive than anything you’d hear in a hipster dance club. which brings us to the biggest crystal castles contradiction: they make music for dance clubs but don’t actually like dance music. they see themselves as a punk band that happens to use synths, but you’d swear some moments on the record are gritty underground house music from the early days of chicago. kath and glass hate it that journalists sometimes characterize them as an accident, but how else do you explain how two people who hate disco are so good at it? to add to the strangeness, crystal castles have had considerable critical success crafting dance remixes for other indie bands, the last thing you expect from a pair you’d have a hard time dragging to an actual dance club.

“we started doing remixes because bands were contacting me when we were in desperate need of money. it was just good timing. bloc party wanted to pay us to remix their song, so I just chopped their vocals up over a crystal castles song we weren’t using. the thing I like about doing remixes is that I can get our fans some more crystal castles songs, sneak them another taste, because i used all unreleased songs that were just sitting on my laptop. on the road we listen to sonic youth, the stooges, joy division, black metal bands like emperor, mutilation. we’re not going to be listening to dance music.” - kath

glass and kath first decided to work together because they loved all the same bands: aids wolf, sick lipstick, femme fatale.

“we wanted to do something like that without copying it, so instead of distorted guitars we’d use fucked-up keyboard sounds. but at the same time, i love new order and joy division, and wanted to use those kinds of dance beats. that’s what we set out to do: aids wolf get into a fight with new order." - kath

to approximate the brutal attack of noise bands, they needed keyboard sounds that weren’t your usual trance presets, which brings us to the whole nintendo-pop sound they swear has nothing to do with video games. journalists and bloggers love to classify them alongside that whole chip-tune scene, bands that use actual video game technology to make lo-fi electronic music. but arcade nostalgia is the last thing the castles want to reference.

“we both hate video games. we were just breaking apart electronics and toys to get annoying sounds. aids wolf is going to annoy you with guitars; we’re going to annoy you with the insides of old electronics. it’s circuit-bending, basically. you can get sounds out of any electronic device by opening it up and poking around. you can open up your watch, if it makes a blip, you can sample it and then use it as a synth. a long time ago I collected a bunch of sounds. i just opened up everything I could and recorded it all. my favourite ‘instrument’ was a circuit board from the early 70s that was made to teach budding electricians. every time you fucked up a circuit, it’d make a blip, and that was my favourite." - kath

even if the similarity was unintentional, you can’t help but associate that 8-bit sound with 80s arcade machines. the fact that crystal castles is also the name of a vintage video game doesn’t help, even if the band is actually named after the home of cartoon vixen she-ra, princess of power. understandably, they might not want their career described as a series of unlikely flukes and happy musical accidents. but as much as they claim they sound exactly as they planned, they’ve still “accidentally” managed to succeed in areas they care little about or were even unaware of. electro-house heavyweights justice and myspace brat-rapper uffie show up to see them in paris, which doesn’t quite make sense for a band that wants to be aids wolf beating up new order. then again, as alice’s absence clearly demonstrates, crystal castles don’t really give a shit what we think and probably love that the rest of us find it hard to make sense of their success.

by benjamin boles, nowtoronto

photo by irene barros

#crystal castles #alice glass #ethan kath #2008

14 notes · View notes

antirepurp · 2 months

Note

from a compassionate stranger: i think talking about the Sonic movies and the games in the same space is a mistake: as you know, they're not the same setting, and not even really the same demographic! The games are still for kids too of course, but SxS Gens, for whatever faults it has, is a game trying to speak to the history of the characters, right? and Shadow's history being revisited is clearly against his will here, so in an era where bland remasters are the norm, why not let this additive experience actually release before getting too mad about it?

i fully admit im coming from a biased angle with the shadow gens posts, i've never been a fan of generations and seeing it get the redo treatment does peeve me more than a bit if im real. i wouldn't say im entirely against the premise of the shadow campaign of the whole thing either, especially if it does come that sort of angle where shadow actively fights his past, but beyond the whole "they already did that in shadow the hedgehog 2005" thing the problem i have with it is that's it's tied to sonic generations, a game that exists on steam right now and barely costs anything, should run on most modern laptops just fine double so if you install a low-end mod, and is a game about sonic's history as much as a game that short with no real story to speak of can be. and knowing that sega pulled all classic games from the steam store after origins release i wouldn't be surprised if they pulled OG generations from steam when this one drops, effectively nuking the best modding platform for a sonic game you can have so they can raise its price back to 60€ because now there's 5 new levels where you can play as shadow, while the fans have ported the entirety of unleashed and much more into OG gens. the movies are of course their own different beast and i hope they stay that way because they might not be for me, and that's ok, im just bummed that instead of us getting a whole new standalone shadow game that this campaign could've been, it's instead tied to a sonic game that's already easily available and playable on most modern computers that may become unavailable as soon as the rerelease drops, all so there can be a little more hype for this "year of shadow" and the movie of course

of course im not saying you or anyone else can't be excited about the game or enjoy it, hell im the last person to scrutinize anyone for enjoying any given game with my track record of loving the most dogwater games known to man, and i try not to shit on people's parade most of the time. but i also think that talking about this sort of stuff is beneficial sometimes and helps with observing the bigger picture of the games industry as a whole. that, and as i said there's something so ironic about a game about nostalgia being rereleased in the era of nostalgia bait

#i hope this makes sense im not entirely sure if it does #i know i can be too harsh about this stuff sometimes and/or get too lost in my own thoughts to consider whether they're buckwild or not

7 notes · View notes

rogueshadeaux · 5 months

Text

Chapter Thirty-Five — Road to Sanctuary

“By the time I agreed to work with him, he was sure he was onto something bigger,” Zeke continued. “It was a whole conspiracy. Curdun Cay was impossible to find, but apparently he had a group of hackers that managed to break through once. Barely got into a database for experiments before the FBI were at their door.”

7k words | 23—30 min read time | TRIGGER WARNING: death mention, hallucination mention | CHAPTER THEME:

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A very large, very heartfelt thanks for @lobotomizedlemon for trusting me with Alessia Donovan. I've adored this OC since they made her, and I love her story and simply everything she made Sia into. To be able to make this story her home, to be able to claim this her canon and intertwine her route with my own story? Well, I can't think of a higher honor. Love you babe! And I hope you all love this character as much as I do.

I was surprised that the drive to Boston was faster than the one to New Marais.

Everyone rotated in the gutted out van throughout the two day drive, trying to stay comfortable. Zeke no longer had an inflatable bed — and after hearing about some of his escapades while on the road, I was happy for it — but we ended up finding this large camping mattress thing that we shoved in the back, edge curling up against the back of the van.

The East Coast was…not a good place. Definitely not one to try and drive through, at least. The closer to the Atlantic ocean we were, the worse everything got.

Some areas were lucky enough to heal from the Beast. Washington, DC was never touched, and some cities like Roanoke and Charlotte in North Carolina found a way to build up from the rubble. It was a miracle New York City wasn’t toppled, but Philly wasn’t as fortunate. But there were other areas that were ghost towns. I was convinced Baltimore was a myth for the longest time as a kid like Atlantis or El Dorado — till Dad forced us to watch Hairspray: the Musical. It just wasn’t there anymore. The Smoky Mountains had a canyon carved through them that refused to grow any foliage, just dirt and rock and remains of getaway cabins that no one but vandals had bothered to touch in the last twenty-five years.

Driving to Boston, though, was a challenge; there was no way to ride the coast all the way north, not anymore. We traveled up to Pittsburgh, then even further north to Albany. We couldn’t stick close to the coast here. Anything near the Atlantic was gone, either ghost town or slum or absorbed by the shore. That carnage stopped just under New York City, though, in the waters off of the shores of New Jersey — meaning once we passed the latitude that used to hold Empire City, we could finally travel East.

It was the dead of night by the time we left Albany after getting a late dinner, Dad sleeping on my right while Brent was laying on my left. Zeke was driving as Dr. Sims worked on his laptop, the sound of phonk music leaking from the earbuds shoved into his ears. I was on my side, trying and failing to sleep as Brent shifted beside me again. And again. And again.

My eyes snapped open. “Dude, would you stop?”

Brent groaned lightly. “I drank too much coffee at that breakfast joint,”

I chuckled softly. “I warned you,”

“Shut up.” Brent’s chest heaved a bit with his sigh, and then he finally looked over at me. “This isn’t how I thought that ‘family road trip’ Dad always talked about would go.”

“I know,” I sighed. “Always thought it would be…better than this. After we graduated too, like he said.”

Brent hummed, staying silent for a minute before saying, “School started three days ago. Mei was telling me about it.”

God, I had forgotten entirely about school. How was I supposed to even care about it right now? “Think our online classes did too?”

“They did,” Brent said. “Did you not get the email?”

“I…” I drew off, feeling the phone burn a hole in the back pocket of my jeans. I barely looked at it since the day I was released from the hospital; I knew if I got on it, I’d break and check out more about the tsunami, and I couldn’t take the image of another flooded house or a funeral with my essence as the victim’s reaper. “I don’t really…use my phone much.”

Brent looked at me for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he said, sounding entirely unconvinced. “But yeah, school started Tuesday.”

“I don’t even think I could do any homework right now if you held me at gunpoint,” I admitted

Brent chuffed. “Yeah. Yeah, me too. It almost feels stupid compared to the monsters and Archangel and — fucking time travel. You ever just think about that for a bit?” He asked me, eyes alight. The caffeine was definitely talking.

But he had a point. “Yeah,” I admitted. Whenever I wasn’t wallowing in some pathetic self pity like my issues mattered more than what I created, I couldn’t help but think about the wild fact that time travel existed. “How do you think he did it?”

“Probably some overly complicated bullshit that doesn’t exist now,” Brent muttered, light from a lamppost crossing over his face. “Otherwise I feel like Dad would have known about it, ‘cause there’s no way Kessler would’ve been the only time traveler if it was still possible. Or, currently possible.” He huffed, that same look crawling on his face when he was solving a problem or had managed to crack the catcher’s signs on the plate. “Imagine if we could figure that shit out. The things we could do.”

I could think of a list of things I’d love to do if I knew how to time travel — stopping my tsunami being at the top. Brent, though, had different priorities, as after a moment he murmured, “I think I’d try to meet Mom, if I could. Maybe Uncle Brent, Reggie. Dad’s parents.”

Mom. I forced myself to breathe deeply as my mind pulled forward images of the hallucination when I was dying or dead or whatever; her outfit made of opaque neon and the freckles on her face. The way her eyes shined like Brent’s.

“Hey, can I…” I drew off; no one but Zeke knew about this and I never took the time to actually describe the hallucination. It felt like a fever dream in retrospect, and yet I needed someone, anyone else to know about it. That’s his mom too. And that’s my twin. I knew I could trust him with anything. “Can I tell you something? You can’t make fun of me,”

Brent huffed, smiling crookedly. “No promises,” he teased. But when he glanced at me, examining my expression, the smirk fell. “What’s up?”

I swallowed, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Dad was asleep before turning my head back, leaning in a bit. “I…I saw Mom,”

Whatever Brent was expecting me to say, it wasn’t that. He blinked a few times in confusion before managing to work out a, “W-what?”

I explained everything; the field I woke up in, me looking for him first before thinking I’d caught a glimpse of Dad. How I knew this wasn’t where I was before I fell but how I’d gotten there was fuzzy. The forest, the mine, the size of it all.

And Mom.

Seeing Mom standing in that drained pond littered with crystal growths. Her face, her words, her smile. I’d told Zeke about this before, sure — but reliving it with Brent was something else entirely. It was a relief to, for a moment, act like it happened and not something I needed to keep secret for fear of either seeming insane or instigating some sort of reaction out of Dad.

By the end, Brent was speechless, chewing so hard on the inside of his cheek I was sure he was going to gnaw a hole straight through it. “It felt so real, Brent,” I murmured, breathing shakily. Retelling every bit of the hallucination nearly made me cry, multiple times.

Brent was staring at the little bit of mattress between us before he exhaled, looking back up to meet my eyes. “What do you think it was?” He asked solemnly.

“When…when I talked to Zeke alone about the tar and Cole and all that, he said that it made Cole see stuff too.” I began. “Apparently breathing it in was enough to get the guy to trip — and it got in my blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of that.”

He nodded, following my train of thought and adding, “Isn’t it normal for people to imagine dead relatives when they’re dying? They see them standing in the corner of the nursing home or something and think it’s time to leave. Maybe it was something like that?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Sad to think that that hallucination has been one of the best parts of the last two weeks.”

“Right?” Brent scoffed. “Hasn’t even been a month since we were freaking out about exams.”

I couldn’t help but agree; those dreams of college and comic books seemed so small compared to everything else right now. “Things are so bad now,” I grumbled.

Brent shrugged. “I mean, it’s not all bad. We finally get to see Aunt Sia’s new place."

We hadn’t seen her since the charity gala in Seattle two years ago; between her regular work with COLE and all the added political stuff from the last two years, she’s been too busy to even visit. The New England chapter needed a lot more support than the West Coast, anyways.

The closer we got to Boston, the more apparent it became how much this entire region was struggling. Boston looked overpopulated between the cars in the street and the homeless on the sidewalk, like it never truly figured out what to do with the refugees from the south before the population started growing again. Every bridge had a plethora of tents underneath it, every soup kitchen had a line a mile long behind it. Brent’s head stayed on a swivel the entire way through the city, and I couldn’t blame him; the buildings here just looked older in a breathtaking way, a testament to this area being one of the first to be settled in America. We both made sure to make jokes towards Dad about a sign pointing towards Rowes Wharf, and watched the skyline with pristine glass and steel buildings reflect back the sunrise as we approached the outskirts of town, turning down more one-way side streets.

The van lurched forward a bit as Dad pushed on the breaks and parked on the side of the road. There was a row of townhomes nearly touching each other, the alley only small enough to hold trash cans and barely any wiggle room between them, hiding untouched white snow instead of the grayish sludge on the street.

“This is it,” Dr. Sims confirmed Dad’s unasked question.

As we got out and began fishing for our bags that were stored along the edges of the mattress pad, there was a slamming door, a blur of red and black clothing with fishnets, and a sudden huff from Dr. Sims, who breathlessly laughed. “Hey, Squeaks,” he greeted.

Aunt Sia was a small woman, but that never stopped her. She took to life like she was bigger than it all, and made it bend to her. That’s what I loved most about her; being able to see someone so small do so much inspired me a lot as someone nearly the same size. I wish I had that much confidence. She almost took down Dr. Sims with her hit, arms wrapped around his waist like she was going to pick him up and carry him back into the house.

Aunt Sia pulled away, looking up at Dr. Sims with the same face you would an old friend. “I’m so happy to see you!” She chirped, messy bright red updo bouncing with the declaration. Her voice had that softness to it Disney would reserve for its cutest characters, the sorta squeaky tone that would let the main character know hey, I can trust this one.

Which I guess is why Dr. Sims called her ‘Squeaks,’ though I’d never heard anyone call her that before. I didn’t even know they knew each other personally.

Aunt Sia turned to Dad, smile going soft. “Delsin,” she gently said. Dad smiled back, and he moved in to give her a hug — and was promptly interrupted in his movement by a quick thwack to the side of the head.

“Ow!” He complained, looking at Aunt Sia. “What was that for?”

“Everything that’s happened, and you didn’t think to call me once?” she demanded, now scowling. This was the other side of her I loved; she was a no-nonsense woman. Many arguments between Brent and I when we were younger were quickly extinguished by her ability to see through our bullshit. “I’ve had to find out things from the news or Arthur or—”

“I know, I know,” Dad grumbled, rubbing the spot she hit. “You’ve already yelled at me about it.”

Aunt Sia scoffed. “And I’m going to keep yelling at you about not telling me a thing about my babies,”

At this, she glanced behind him, eyes settling on Brent and I and immediately growing in excitement. “Oh, look at you two!” She cooed, pushing past Dad, who stumbled back a step and rolled his eyes.

She went to Brent first, regarding him fully. “God, you’ve gotten huge,” she murmured, pulling him into a hug and coming to the middle of his chest. Brent had a huge growth spurt in the time she was gone, and she didn’t look at all happy about the fact as she pulled away from him. “You can’t get any bigger, it makes me feel bad.”

Brent chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he jokingly promised.

Her eyes traveled over his form to me, somehow getting even softer. “Jeanie,” she smiled, moving to hug me next.

She was always gentle, in spite of how badass she was. The same woman throwing bricks over bridges at passing DUP convoys was also someone who would hug you softly, like she knew you needed it more than she did. It was weird being a little bit taller than her now, too, but other things never change — like how she still smelled like cinnamon.

Aunt Sia pulled away and her hands went to cup my face, gray eyes examining me. I knew that look, I knew what she was doing, but it felt less judgmental coming from her. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered before lowering her hands and regarding the group, giving Zeke a nod of acknowledgement before declaring, “Well — who’s hungry?”

“You’ve made a lot of work for me, Delsin,” Aunt Sia chastised, plopping down a bamboo bin on top of all of the COLE paperwork on her round dining table.

“I know,” he grumbled, unwrapping the bandaging around his arms.

Brent and I were on the other side of the kitchen, chowing down on breakfast. God, I missed Aunt Sia’s cooking almost as much as I missed her.

Dad glanced over at us. “You act like you’ve never had a homemade meal before,” he jested. Mostly. He did look a little offended.

Brent, mouth full of at least three different types of food, spoke past it to say, “It’s different when it’s Aunt Sia’s food,”

“Bean, not with your mouth full,” Aunt Sia laughed, smiling so hard the single dimple on her left cheek popped out. Brent turned beet — or maybe bean — red at the childhood nickname and muttered something about being a man that we all ignored.

Dr. Sims moved to finish undoing Dad’s bandaging for him as Aunt Sia and Zeke began pulling things out of the bin. Even more files, a few different flash drives, a couple chips that were probably dead drops. “I kept it all,” she said, looking up at the group. Her eyes seemed to immediately flit to Dr. Sims’ back, like she was talking to him specifically. “I don’t have a way to listen to any of the audio anymore—“

“I do,” Zeke said, reassuring her. “In my bag. I’ll go get it,”

“Good! Good, okay then. Delsin, I also still have some of the things from Seattle, too.” She added.

Dad nodded, “From Project Sanctuary? Or the Conduit Rights League?”

Aunt Sia shrugged. “Both. I used my volunteer time at one to inform the other, so I suppose they go hand-in-hand.”

“Is that how you two met?” I asked suddenly. It was very obvious that they’d known each other from before — it was more a question of how before it was. “You knew Dad as…Delsin? Even back then?”

Aunt Sia looked at Dad — and then glanced at Dr. Sims before letting her eyes return to me. “I did, but it’s not how we met. Eugene introduced me.”

Brent blinked, swallowing away a mouthful of food before asking, “So you knew Dr. Sims then too? Did you all meet in Seattle?”

Dr. Sims chuffed, eyes far away like he was reliving some memory. “Oh, no. Alessia was my closest friend in high school, before everything,”

My eyes went wide, and I glanced between the two of them. “You’re kidding,” They’ve known each other since high school? Since my age? Maybe even earlier?

Aunt Sia put a hand on Dr. Sims’ shoulder, squeezing once. “We met on an old video game,” she informed us, laughing slightly. “Didn’t even know we went to the same school together until I…helped him out.”

“Hard to mistake a voice like hers,” Dr. Sims chuckled.

“Right, ‘cause that’s what gave it away, not you playing on your computer during lunch.” Aunt Sia rolled her eyes. “But yes, I…I’ve known your father for a while. We did a bit of work together in Seattle.”

Dad was still unwinding his bandaging, saying through the bit in his teeth, “Alessia was the only way I could stay in touch with Eugene, after your mother died.” He let the bandage fall from his mouth as he peeled the brown away from his forearm. “Couldn’t reach out to him normally. Had to be careful.”

I nodded, looking down at the ground; Aunt Sia must have followed Dad out of Seattle when everything happened. It made sense, right? And I’m actually really glad he had some support during that time. Losing your fiancée, becoming a single father, having to go into witness protection — that sounded like hell. At least he had someone.

But still, it all just felt like another lie.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the negativity as I instead concentrated on Dad, who was beginning to peel the gauze off of his arms. “Do you need any help?” I offered, setting the plate on the counter behind me. I wanted to be helpful in some way, especially since I couldn’t do anything to prevent this injury in the first place. My dreams were plagued by the gaps that riddled Dad’s skin, only nightmares would paste them to my skin instead. And I wouldn’t be able to fast track the healing like he could.

Dad shook his head. “I’m hoping it’s done healing,” he said. “And if not I shouldn’t need much medicine.” And luckily for him, he was right; the skin on his arms was fully healed, save for some redness and flaking that he shooed away with a quick rub under the faucet, like it was nothing.

I couldn’t help but look at him in jealousy as he moved to gather all his used bandages and throw them away, arms fresh and recovered.

Zeke walked back into the room, that little device he used to listen to the other dead drops in his hands. “Here you are, Alessia,” he said, handing it to Aunt Sia, who immediately began trying to plug it into one of Dr. Sims’ computers.

“So what are you guys hoping to figure out?” Aunt Sia asked as she flipped the USB port of the cord after it refused to plug in.

Dad grabbed a blueberry pancake and shoved it in his mouth sans syrup, helpfully saying between chews: “Anything.”

Dr. Sims decided to clarify. “Zeke has a journal from Dr. Wolfe. The First Sons scientist, not the reporter. According to him, they had ice soldiers a lot like the ones that attacked Salmon Bay. And they swiped some hard drives from the underground base in New Marais that I’m trying to recover files on.”

Aunt Sia blinked. “You think…whoever this Archangel is, they’re tied to the First Sons somehow?”

“Well, we’re hoping we’re wrong,” Dad said. He then looked over at Dr. Sims. “Have you gotten anywhere with the hard drives? And the journal?”

Dr. Sims didn’t answer immediately; he turned to one of the computers, opening some sort of program file and clicking away. “Hopefully it finished translating every page of the journal on our ride up here,” he muttered, clicking around some more. A mouse scroll, and he said, “Almost done, it’s on the last few pages.”

“And the hard drives?” Zeke asked, moving to approve some pop up on Dr. Sims’ computer.

Dr. Sims glanced at his hand disapprovingly when he touched the ‘enter’ button, taking a moment to respond, “I made pretty decent headway there, but I can’t guarantee we’ll get anything good from it. These drives are both futuristic and from the nineteen-nineties. It's old and yet unlike tech I’ve ever seen. Doesn’t help that the military wiped them. A triple pass of the entire storage space is hard to reverse.”

Dad flinched at that, like something about the statement mattered more than if it was just some random joe that did the same. “So what’re the chances you’d be able to recover anything?” He asked.

Dr. Sims sighed. “Right now? Slim.” Dad groaned and Dr. Sims held up a hand. “But, if I could get your support on this…I might have more luck.”

Aunt Sia looked at the man curiously as he readjusted his glasses. “Isn’t that dangerous?” She asked, immediately concerned. I glanced over at Brent who looked just as confused, answering my unasked question with a shrug — what on Earth were they talking about?

“It is,” Dr. Sims said. “But with Delsin’s help, I should be fine.”

Aunt Sia didn’t look convinced at all, but she sighed hard. “Okay. Do you need anything?”

Dr. Sims shook his head. “Just Delsin.”

Dad moved, taking a spot by Zeke as Aunt Sia stepped aside, arms crossed and with that worried scowl on her face. Dad’s hand came out and he pressed it against the screen, the press of his hand causing the screen to warp and bend as the home screen became lost to pixels that popped like static, crawling off of the screen with each crackle and onto Dad’s skin as he drained video. The screen flickered but didn’t go completely black like I had seen before, motors whirring to turn it back on like it was programmed specifically to fight against the drain.

Dad moved his hand and nodded to Dr. Sims, who pressed his own palms against the main laptop of his hub and closed his eyes, brow furrowing. The screen grew brighter, the light encapsulating his hands as he glowed blue with it, and there was a flash that disoriented me. “Ah, fuck!” Brent exclaimed from somewhere.

I blinked hard as sight slowly returned to my eyes, looking around; Dr. Sims wasn’t in the room anymore. Dad was still standing in the same spot, hands out as he kept a stream of pixelated blue between him and the computers. “Wh—” I cut off, looking around a bit just in case I missed Dr. Sims. “Where did…”

“Damn, so that’s what it looks like when he does that?” Zeke asked, looking at the screen.

I looked around Dad at the computer screen, faltering when I saw it; it was blue like most of Dr. Sims’ video powers, but the screen warped and twisted on itself like an oil spill in a gas station parking lot, bending and churning and swirling. Dr. Sims was here, with files on his computer screen…and now he wasn’t, and the screen looked like something that could be stepped through. “Is…” I drew off, glancing at Aunt Sia, “Is Dr. Sims—”

She nodded, “In the computer, yep.”

Brent looked over at me wide eyed, balking. “He’s in the computer? Like a virus?”

Dad decided to speak this time, “He’s rebuilding the database from the inside out. And I’m trying to make sure he doesn’t run into an irreversible issue and dies, so if I could have some silence, that’d be great.”

Well, jeez, with a risk like that, he didn’t have to ask twice.

We all stayed quiet as Dad held his hands towards the computer screen, brow furrowed in concentration. Aunt Sia seemed too nervous to not move around, succumbing to a pace that had her walking the five steps back and forth between the back door and the swinging door that led to her living room, combat boots threatening to carve a hole in the tile.

The fans on the laptop whirred to life, kicking up like a helicopter trying to lift off, and Aunt Sia froze, turning to watch the screen. Brent and I did too; the ambient color shifting of the screen left, the entire thing vibrating from the center outwards. The edges of the screen got brighter, and Brent and I both made sure to look away this time, me turning around completely to face him while he hid his eyes in the crook of his elbow. The blast of energy that happened was so strong that I could feel the wave of warm air, my eyelids going pink with the flash as Dr. Sims reentered the room, huffing like he had just ran a marathon.

Aunt Sia’s shoes hit the ground so hard the floor vibrated, and I turned in time to see her push Dad aside a bit and wrap an arm around Eugene’s shoulder, demanding, “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” He huffed out, forcing a deep breath. He looked behind himself at Dad, “I got somewhere. Didn’t manage to dig up a lot, but I got something. I just need to finish refining it.”

Dad nodded as his hands fell to his side, relieved. “Good, okay. Hopefully there’ll be something worth it in there.”

“We can look at this stuff in the meantime,” Zeke decided, moving to begin to pull stuff out of the bamboo bin Aunt Sia had brought out.

Aunt Sia began flipping through the files Zeke set near her, Dad moving to her side. “This is a lot more than I sent you guys,” he said.

“We just needed you to do the dirtiest work for us,” Aunt Sia said with a hint of a tease to her voice, looking over her shoulder at Dad.

Dad gave her a sarcastic smile, picking up a random manilla envelope from the pile to open. He was always so comfortable around Aunt Sia — I missed their cohesion over the years since she moved. “What all is in this? Do you remember?”

Aunt Sia trilled her lips. “Not a lot that wasn’t revealed in the UN trial,” she sighs, holding up various papers and flipping through them. “What Augustine subjected the Conduits to, natural RFE, the Ray Sphere. They were trying to figure out something about Conduits, but…we didn’t figure out what before Raymond Wolfe died. You went and tore down the DUP and so many files disappeared.”

Brent, food finally finished, decided he wanted to remind everyone he was in the room by saying, “So all the messed up things they did were erased?”

Dad held up a finger. “Hold on — the Ray Sphere?” he asked.

Aunt Sia nodded. “You’ve gotta remember, whatever the First Sons were working on in New Marais? They got it. And that includes—” Aunt Sia cuts off, looking through the files in her hands and then two on the table before handing one to Dad. “—the Ray Sphere prototype.”

Dad took the file, thumbing through the pages as Brent and I did the worst job at trying to be discreet while looking over his shoulder.

I could remember the Ray Sphere Zeke showed Brent and I, the mock up that was in that journal. The near perfect roundness, the little indent like the crater that held the scary secret weapon on the Death Star imprinted on its dome. This? This was nothing like it. It was a contraption held together by wire and hope, more pill-shaped than round and with two handles on each side as if to steer it. I wasn’t close enough to read the notes, but Dad seemed to find something that shocked him. “‘Unrefined raythium mined from the Earth’s core?’” he read aloud, looking to Aunt Sia for confirmation.

Brent’s brow furrowed. “Raythium? Like the stuff in the Earth’s core?”

“By the core,” Dr. Sims corrected. “It’s what remains of Theia when it crashed into Earth eons ago.”

“It’s what causes the Ray Field too, right?” I asked, moving to sit at the table opposite the adults. I remembered that from my Earth Science exam two weeks ago; the radioactive remains of Theia were close enough to the core to be pulled into the whole process that made Earth’s electromagnetic field, the churning with the iron and stuff in the center making the Ray Field.

Dr. Sims nodded, “And what Conduits use to convert energy into their conduvergence matter.”

“I still don’t get how that works,” I admitted with a mutter.

Dad looked like he was working through some sort of math problem in his mind. “So the First Sons were…trying to use raythium to activate Conduits? Like MacGrath?”

“Not Cole,” Zeke chimed in, moving to lean against a wall. “He got the end product when they perfected it and started using rayacite instead. But the Blast cores Cole used to ‘power up?’ Those came from New Marais and Bertrand’s testing.”

“Wonder if that’s why Bertrand’s power was so messed up,” Dad hummed. “If he used raythium to activate his power, he basically nuked himself with radiation. Isn’t raythium really radioactive?”

Dr. Sims leaned back in the kitchen chair. “It is. If Earth’s geodynamo process was any different, and a fraction of the radioactive RFE in the core leaked out, there’d be no life on Earth.”

Brent and I glanced at each other, grimacing; that was a fun fact we could have lived without.

“Let’s just…start with what we know,” Aunt Sia said, turning to her bin after an awkward pause and digging in it. Eventually she pulled out a small manilla folder with some sort of crinkly window on it, revealing a dead drop a lot like the ones Zeke kept in his way-less-organized ammo box. “Here, Angel, put this in.”

She held it out and Dr. Sims took it from her, him taking long enough to play it for me to look up at Brent as he mouthed Angel? at me with a raised eyebrow. I guess they really did know each other.

The speakers on the leftmost laptop crackled a bit, the computer’s motors picking up as the dead drop began to play. “Cole’s Gift: Short Lived or Just Beginning, by Raymond Wolfe.” The voice began, firm and lyrical like any other reporters’. “It’s common knowledge that when Cole MacGrath died he not only cured the plague that was sweeping the world, but took every Conduit with him to his grave. What we didn’t know was that this would be temporary. Within a year, rumors emerged of the return of the Conduit gene. Some believed that the plague had survived and mutated, this time creating Conduits rather than killing normals. Some believed that not all the Conduits were actually killed, that a few remained and were somehow able to spread their abilities.”

I shook my head. That didn’t sound right—how do you spread a gene? Besides the obvious procreational way.

“I’ve personally looked into both of these urban legends and have yet to find any proof of either of them.” Raymond Wolfe said, agreeing with me. “Which is why I’m here in Seattle. I believe the DUP know more than they are letting on.”

The recording stuttered short there, Brent saying what I was thinking: “That’s it? That was his report? That was nothing,”

Dad’s eyes screwed shut like it was painful for him to think. “I remember Raymond saying something about…the DUP having a hand in the gene?” He asked like he wasn’t sure, opening his eyes to look between Aunt Sia and Zeke. “Did you guys ever learn what he was after?”

Aunt Sia shook her head. “He died before he got anywhere.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “That’s nice,” he said, tone suggesting it wasn’t at all.

Zeke ignored the jib, saying, “Raymond found me, long before we took this to Project Sanctuary. Came knocking on my door in the swamp and nearly found out what the business end of a twelve gauge felt like. Apparently when Wolfe, the doctor, was captured and the Militia bombed his lab, it triggered some sorta failsafe in his computer to email Raymond a goodbye letter. He showed me it.” After a moment, Zeke continued, “It admitted to everything he did. Shit Cole and I didn’t even know about. Some sorta final attempt at soothing his subconscious or something.

“He mentioned Cole in it, his one attempt at redemption. Everyone knows the heroes, not the sidekicks, so it took a while for him to find me. Three years, to be exact. The DUP had started putting people away in droves and he thought they had a hand in the fact that they were coming back to begin with. Asked me to help — tell him what I knew from back then with Wolfe and Cole.”

Dad’s brow furrowed. “And?”

Zeke sighed. “I told him to fuck off before I used him for chum in a gator trap.”

Whatever Dad was expecting, it wasn’t that; he blinked hard twice before eventually asking, dumbfounded, “What?”

“I didn’t want anything to do with it at first.” Zeke admitted. “I was mourning and pissed at the world. My best friend did everything he could to fix what Kessler started and not only did it not matter, but they were making him into some sorta villain.” He looked at Delsin. “You know what that’s like.”

Dad just seemed to relent with a single nod. “By the time I agreed to work with him, he was sure he was onto something bigger,” Zeke continued. “It was a whole conspiracy. Curdun Cay was impossible to find, but apparently he had a group of hackers that managed to break through once. Barely got into a database for experiments before the FBI were at their door.”

I heard of the testing done in Curdun Cay long before I knew Dad was Delsin. Everyone did. It was one of those blemishes the history teachers would breeze over in class and you’d have to learn after seeing a survivor’s interview on television or some post on social media. I learned about it from a Wikipedia rabbit hole when writing a report on Delsin Rowe’s tag art and importance of civilian empowerment.

Dad’s art. Dad.

And apparently, Dad seemed just as familiar with those stories as he sighed. “That could’ve been anything,” he said solemnly.

“It could’ve been,” Zeke agreed. “But you don’t think she had a reason for doing what she did?”

No one had a good retort to that.

Dad’s eyes traveled thoughtfully from Zeke’s face to the bin Aunt Sia had brought out and he stepped forward, digging around in it for a minute and rejecting two different dead drop sleeves before finding what he was looking for. He pulled the little chip out of its folder and handed it to Aunt Sia, who put it into the player without question.

“Report by Augustine.” Her voice was softer than anything I heard from her on Christmas eve—but it still sent a jolt down my spine so violent I jerked in my seat a bit, hair on the back of my neck standing on end. “While the inciting incident that supposedly claimed the lives of all the Conduits was in fact a lie, it was not one created by the DUP. Conduits did live through Cole’s Gift, myself included.”

I hated how tense her voice made me. I hated how I could hear waves roaring in my ears despite being in the middle of Hyde Park. I glanced over at Brent, who was trying his hardest to scowl a hole into the fridge’s door before looking down at the table, trying to shake the tension from my shoulders. Not that that helped; all it did was turn my attention to the cast on my arm — the cuts and scrapes still healing from the car crash and the monster chase — and it just made my stomach churn more.

After a breath, Augustine continued, “Instead, we used the calm to build, learn, and prepare. We got better at early detection and collection. Curdun Cay’s facilities were upgraded and we built an army. The events here in Seattle will ensure the DUP will be funded for the foreseeable future.”

A hand landed on my shoulder and I jumped, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. My head snapped back and the sight of red hair made my heart stutter until I realized it was too red, with exposed black roots — not wild and gray streaked and more auburn than cherry. Aunt Sia looked down at me in concern as I tried to force my breathing to steady, hand moving from my shoulder to rub my back reassuringly.

“This will allow me to expand our facilities abroad.” Augustine confided in the recording in a hushed tone, like they were sharing secrets under a duvet at a sleepover. “We have made an excellent headway on establishing a permanent science facility in Australia. The work we’ve already done there using Dr. Sebastian Wolfe’s notes on the Conduit is…” She drew off, breathing deeply, “Well, awe inspiring, even to me.”

The recording cut short right there, and we were all left in silence for a considerable few seconds.

“‘Wolfe’s notes on the Conduit,’” Dad eventually asked, looking up at Zeke. “What notes?”

Zeke looked to Aunt Sia, who sighed. “He thought Augustine was trying to influence the gene to create herself a little army,” she began, “And that, since the DUP had information on the Ray Sphere and RFE, that she was planning this mass event that would have activated Conduits everywhere, make it impossible for the world to ignore Conduits.”

Dad huffed. “She was locking up every gene positive person she could find,” he pointed out. “You believed that?”

“Yeah.” Aunt Sia responded, that firm finality in her voice that always lingered in its tone whenever she refused to hear otherwise. “I did. Because when I heard about what happened in there? I refuse to believe it was just for shits and giggles. Augustine was up to something, you can’t tell me she wasn’t.”

Dad didn’t seem convinced. “When I fought her, she said she was just…trying to keep them outta the hands of the government,” he started, brow screwed tight as he tried to access the memory from that time. “That the military was the reason they died in the beginning, and she was the only thing keeping them safe.”

Aunt Sia cocked an eyebrow at Dad. “You believed that?” she returned with the same doubtful tone he had earlier.

Dad faltered as he considered her words, and Aunt Sia stepped forward, a hand going to Dr. Sims’ shoulder. I hadn’t noticed it till this very moment, but it seemed like Brent and I weren’t the only ones bothered by Augustine’s voice; Dr. Sims’ jaw was tense, the fingertips of his right hands sort of tapping against the keys like he wanted to distract himself with typing but couldn’t think of the words. “After everything Eugene told me, it’s—I can’t believe that she didn’t have some sort of ulterior motive.” Dad opened his mouth to retort and Aunt Sia continued without waiting, “Someone that cares about Conduits doesn’t torture them to see what they can do. They don’t experiment on them, and they sure as hell don’t train them to kill. Fetch wasn’t the only one she did that too.”

Dad’s shoulders immediately tensed when Aunt Sia mentioned Mom, looking off like the mere mention of what happened then made him want to slew a string of curse words. He took a moment to run his hand over his face before asking, “So, what? She was slowly building some sort of army?”

Aunt Sia sighed, shrugging. “I’m not sure. I can’t say I fully believed the idea, because I didn’t. I still don’t. But she was doing something in that little ivory castle of hers, I can promise you that. We just don’t know what.”

Dr. Sims suddenly sat up in his chair, eyes scanning over the entirety of his screen as he said, “We may have just found out,” before looking over his shoulder at Dad. “I can access the hard drives now.”

Dad moved to Dr. Sims’ shoulder as Aunt Sia’s hand moved to grip the back of the chair I was sitting in, tense. “What d’ya got?” Zeke asked, leaned against a back wall.

“A lot of…corrupted files…” Dr. Sims hummed, hands working overtime as he typed away. I couldn’t see what he was doing but Brent could, his eyes moving from scowling and angry to a bit wide as he watched Dr. Sims do his thing. “Maybe I’ll have more luck in the network file share…”

Dr. Sims continued his typing, brow furrowed as he dug in the computer’s data mine, looking for gold, the screen reflecting in his glasses; I couldn’t make out the words, but what I could see were the multiple popup windows and various loading bars, Dr. Sims looking like someone straight out of some cliché hacker scene.

But white suddenly overtook his glasses as something bigger popped up on screen, lines of text spawning faster than he could read it. Dad leaned forward, lips moving ever so slightly as he silently read off of the screen.

Zeke was the first to crack. “What did you find?” He asked.

Dad and Dr. Sims shot each other a glance. “Notes from the First Sons,” Dr. Sims hummed, reading further. “About power transfer, forced Conduits, RFE exposure, and…evolution.”

“Evolution?” Aunt Sia asked, “Like the gene evolving to survive the RFI?”

Dad shook his head. “No—evolution to make a Conduit all powerful.”