#*h 212

[colormush]

#pink #purple #calm #cool #graphics #art #digital art #art inspiration #color #gifs #stimming #aesthetic #colours #loop #gif #artists on tumblr #aesthetics #pretty #colors #colorful #YIQ #*d33 #*h 212 #*ky2 #*pfn e0 sp0 r149 #*c65.242.42.190.29.122 #*mp4320.0099.0006 #*tp2100.0069.0003

[saturnisfallingdown]

THE NEW NIGHT VALE EPISODE TITLE HELLO??

#ABOUT TO LISTEN #it wont have to do with the university it wont have to do with the university it wont h #wtnv #wtnv 212

[npzlawyersforimmigration]

NPZ Law Group was so very pleased to have a chance to share valuable US Immigration Law information with the greater FMG and IMG communities worldwide.

#immigration #visa #h-1b #green card #perm #h-1b visa #uscis #india #us #usa #us immigrants #immigration lawyers #j-1 #2 year foreign residency requirement #waivers #waiver #212(e) #dos #Conrad #northern border #arc #Conrad waiver #was enacted as immigration and nationality act (ina) section 204(j). this portion of the ina states as follows: . #h 1b professional visa #o 1 visa #h 1b visa transfer #mua #hpsa #hrsa #hhs

[sleepanonymous]

This is a reminder to everyone in North America who is unable to get tickets for the pre-sale and general sale of Sleep Token’s Teeth of God tour. DO NOT buy resale tickets through third-party vendors like StubHub, Seat Geek, Vivid Seats, etc. Tickets for the Teeth of God tour are mobile-only and non-transferable. This means the seller will not be able to transfer the tickets you purchased from them. The only reliable way to purchase tickets to this tour is through Ticketmaster or your local venue’s ticketing system. Please protect yourself and do not get scammed. If you do not have tickets and need tickets, check out the list I’ve created below the cut. Once pre-sales/general sales are over, I’ll update this post with more links. For more context, check my post here.

Saturday, April 27 – Las Vegas, Nevada Sick New World Music Festival Purchase Tickets through Sick New World’s Website. Third-party sites and sellers can transfer mobile tickets.

Tuesday, April 30 – Phoenix, Arizona Arizona Financial Theatre 400 W Washington St, Phoenix, AZ 85003 [phone] Purchase tickets resale through Ticketmaster.

Wednesday, May 1 – Albuquerque, New Mexico Revel Entertainment Center 4720 Alexander Blvd NE, Albuquerque, NM 87107 [phone] Purchase tickets resale through Prekindle.

Friday, May 3 – Austin, Texas H-E-B Center 2100 Ave of the Stars, Cedar Park, TX 78613 [phone] Purchase Tickets resale through Ticketmaster.

Saturday, May 4 – Dallas, Texas Toyota Music Factory 316 W Las Colinas Blvd., Irving, TX 75039 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Monday, May 6 – Tampa, Florida Yuengling Center 12499 USF Bull Run Drive, Tampa, FL 33617 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Tuesday, May 7 – Atlanta, Georgia Coca-Cola Roxy 800 Battery Ave SE #500, Atlanta, GA 30339 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Wednesday, May 8 – Asheville, North Carolina ExploreAshville.com Arena 87 Haywood St, Asheville, NC 28801 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Friday, May 10 – St. Louis, Missouri The Factory 17105 N Outer 40 Rd, Chesterfield, MO 63005 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Sunday, May 12 – Morrison, Colorado Red Rocks Amphitheatre 18300 W Alameda Pkwy, Morrison, CO 80465 [phone] Purchase Tickets through AXS. Third-party sites and sellers can transfer mobile tickets.

Tuesday May 14 – Des Moines, Iowa Vibrant Music Hall 2938 Grand Prairie Pkwy, Waukee, IA 50263 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Wednesday, May 15 & Thursday, May 16 – Chicago, Illinois Salt Shed 1357 N Elston Ave, Chicago, IL 60642 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster. Third-party sites and sellers can transfer mobile tickets.

Saturday, May 18 – Columbus, Ohio Sonic Temple Art & Music Festival Purchase Tickets through Sonic Temple’s Website. Third-party sites and sellers can transfer mobile tickets.

Sunday, May 19 – Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Petersen Events Center 3719 Terrace St, Pittsburgh, PA 15261 [phone] Purchase Tickets through AXS.

Monday, May 20 – Philadelphia, Pennsylvania The Met 858 N Broad St, Philadelphia, PA 19130 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Wednesday, May 22 – New York, New York Radio City Music Hall 1260 6th Ave, New York, NY 10020 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster. Third-party sites and sellers can transfer mobile tickets.

Friday, May 24 – Boston, Massachusetts MGM Music Hall 2 Lansdowne St, Boston, MA 02215 [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Saturday, May 25 – Laval, Quebec Place Bell 1950 Rue Claude-Gagné, Laval, QC H7N 0E4, Canada [phone] Purchase Tickets through Ticketmaster.

Monday, May 27 & Tuesday May 28– Toronto, Ontario Massey Hall 178 Victoria St, Toronto, ON M5B 1T7, Canada [phone] Purchase Tickets through Massey Hall.

#sleep token #teeth of god tour #sleepanon rant #i don't mean this post to cause panic or distress #i'm just trying to help other sleep token fans out #this presale has been a massive mess #and i too am massively disappointed #i considered making a rant post too #but figured this is a lot more helpful and a lot less toxic #good luck to everyone who has yet to get tickets #i'm rooting for you and i really hope you get to see the eepy boys in may #please don't give up trying to get tickets #resale has come back multiple times for rcmh #and has been back for a while for red rocks #i'm sure these rituals will be the same

[twola]

#212 “We could run away.” 😭😭😭

“Y’lookin at me like I'm already gone.”

Tears cloud over your vision as he sits on his cot in front of you, a shell of the man he used to be. His eyes are sunken, bloodshot. He’s grown out his beard to hide the gauntness of his cheeks.

You cannot help the escape of those tears down your cheeks, hiccuping a sob as you stare at the ground. He reaches over and takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, gently, slowly, like he was trying to calm a skittish horse.

“C’mere, darlin’.” He guides to sit upon his thigh, winding one arm behind your back as the other one clamps affectionally on your thigh, “There we go… ain't nothin’ to be cryin’ about.”

You frown and lean your forehead against his, a fresh outpouring of tears cascading down your cheeks, as your breathing hastens against his express wishes.

“You’re too pretty to be cryin’ like this.” Arthur swipes his thumb across the your cheek to stem the flow of tears, but you swat his hand away before steeling your nerves and leaning in to take his lips.

Arthur frowns, pulling your hips back to prevent you from kissing him.

“You know we can't.” He quietly pleads, his voice pained.

“Its like you're h-half gone already.” You whisper, hiccuping halfway through the sentence, angry and sad and drowning in reality at the same time.

“I’m right here, darlin’.”

“Let’s go - just, let’s leave-”

He frowns. You press onward, desperately.

“We - we could run away. Let me take you out west where it's dry and -”

“You know we can't do that, sweetheart.” Arthur cuts you off quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear affectionately.

The dimple in your chin forms again as your lip quivers, a long breath let out of your nose as he smiles sadly at you.

He draws you in, one hand on the back of your head, shushing you gently as your voice cracks into another sob.

“You’re gonna go on and keep livin’, sweet girl.”

“Not without y-you-”

“Without me. Yer gonna grow into a crotchety old woman and join me years from now.” You can feel his smile against your cheek, and as much as you try not to, you cannot help but laugh at the comment.

“I love you. How am I ever gonna go on without you?”

“You’re a strong girl. Smart. Much smarter than a ol’ dolt like me. You’ll be fine.” Arthur gently rocks you back and forth on his knee, comforting even now as he and you know his time is growing short.

You bury your face into his neck.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You were supposed to be doing jobs. Maybe breaking out on your own. Riding across the country. Maybe settling down somewhere hidden when this life finally paid out.

But now…

Your tears fall on the warm skin of his neck, and he gathers you into his embrace, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, trying to comfort you.

You know you shouldn’t waste this time.

It’s all you have left.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead fanfic #twolafic #red dead fandom #arthur morgan x female reader #miniprompt #prompt request

[missmielyhoran]

After this Harry deleted story I was wondering if you would make an Instagram where he posts a picture of him and y/n together and then deletes it. Y/n can be someone outside the media, like she can be a student, she goes to college

Thank you for requesting! I hope this was good enough♡

A/N- Here, the timeline of things are how I made them to be

Face Claim- Victoria Pedretti

A/N- I want Victoria Pedretti to step on me like full-on chomp on me with 7-inch platform heels

*****

Liked by Harryfan2, Harryfan1, Harryfan4 and 702,999 others

HSupdates Harry just posted and deleted this story

View all comments.

Harryfan1 He has a girlfriend?!!?

Harryfan2 What do you mean Harry has a girlfriend who he's looking for house with?

Harryfan3 Istg I will run off the cliff I'm driving rn

Harryfan4 He meant to post it on his close friends😭there are so many stories we have not seen

Harryfan1 I will give my first born to be in his close friends

On twitter-

Yourclassmate The girl Harry posted on his story is my classmate in college. We go to the same classes, and her name is Y/N.

5.6k Likes, 198 Quote retweets, 765 retweets, 865 Comments

Harryfan4 She won't accept my request😭

Harryfan2 Stop it guys!! She had a private account for reason

Harryfan1 People do anything for bunch of likes. I hope your pillow is warm on both sides

Harryfan3 She's so pretty omg🥲

Liked by Yourmom, Annetwist, Yourbestfriend and 25 others

Yourinstagram Should have posted this instead babe

View all comments.

Yourbestfriend I told you he's a dumbass but no you were in love

harrystyles I thought we were friends :(

Yourinstagram stop being mean to him!

Yourbestfriend tell me him to stop being a dumbass

harrystyles I'm sorry babe

Yourinstagram I will smack you in head if you say sorry one more time

harrystyles what about the girl?

Yourinstagram blocked that bitch and will see what dean does with my complaint🤷🏻‍♀️

Liked by Harryfan2, Harryfan1, Randomuser and 1,456,999 others

Harryfan3 Y/N accidentally accepted my follow requests and look at these pics!

View all comments.

Harryfan2 Alexa tell me the definition of privacy

Harryfan1 She was the girl on yatch all those years back???

Harryfan3 That's LHH how long have they been dating?

Harryfan4 the pic of them kissing🥺

*****

On twitter-

harryfan2 You guys are the reason Y/N had to delete her Instagram account, and then you ask why Harry keeps his relationships private.

1.5k Likes, 478 Comments, 734 Retweets, 212 Quote retweets

Harryfan2 I feel bad for her :(

Harryfan4 I just know Harry is mad at us.

Harryfan3 I feel like a child who just disappointed their father

*****

A week later-

Liked by Harryfan4, Harryfan2, Harryfan1 and 987,025 others

DailyNews 'As it was' singer, Harry Styles has just bought a house in LA with his long-time girlfriend. Our sources have found that the couple have been in a relationship for almost 6 years. It's also rumored that the couple have gotten engaged and are getting married soon

View all comments.

Harryfan1 He hid his relationship for 6 years??!

Harryfan2 You're telling me all those mystery woman were just one?

Harryfan4 Damn he's good

Harryfan3 I mean he hid it for a reason...look what happened when it came out

Liked by Harryfan1, Harryfan3, Harryfan2 and 917,441 others

Harryfan4 Look at Y/N when Harry was accepting his grammy😭

View all comments.

Harryfan1 This called me single in 3000 languages

Harryfan3 I want someone who looks at me the way Y/N and Harry look at each other

Harryfan2 The matching suit had me on floor😩Y/N in suit was gay panic at finest

Liked by Annetwist, Yourinstagram, Harryfan2 and 8,617,464 others

harrystyles Grammys, February 2023

View all comments.

Harryfan1 People died🫠

Annetwist Proud of you baby❤️

Harryfan3 the saga for Harry being shirtless on grammys goes on

Yourinstagram So proud of you H!!!💕

Liked by harrystyles

harrystyles wouldn't have done it without you my muse❤️

*****

Please Like, Comment and Reblog!

You can talk to me here♡

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fake ig #harry styles instagram blurbs #harry x yn #harry styles x yn #anon <3 #anon request

[theharrowing]

White Lies 🤍 2: Sleep sweet, pretty

Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.

You need to have them, at all costs.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung

🤍 word count: 7.4k + screencaps of conversations

🤍 college au, cop au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.

🤍 warnings: a lot of deception; very forward flirting; use of date rape drug; effects of being drugged against one's will. there is no assault of any kind, just fear.

🤍 notes: ignore the fact that the chats switch from dark mode to light mode. i use dark mode on my phone, but sometimes it gets switched and i forget to change it back. these screencaps result from me literally texting myself haha it's a labor of love okay. also don't forget mc's fake name is Sandra. she won't be referred to this for too many chapters.

🤍 written parts beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🤍 posted nov. 2023 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

* * *

You pace around beside your couch and stare at your phone as it rings, watching as the 212 number takes up the screen. With shaking thumbs, you halt in place and accept the call, anticipating what Vante's voice may sound like. 

"Hello?" you ask as demurely as possible, squeezing your eyes closed. 

The voice that greets you is deep, rough, and with an accented lilt that makes your heart race. "Well, hello, pretty."

It takes a split moment to get your bearings. How could someone's voice sound like honey and barbed wire all at once?

"H-hey, V," you finally say, biting on your bottom lip and opening your eyes. Although your apartment lighting is not terribly bright, you have to blink a few times. 

"Wow," Vante says, "your voice sounds so sweet."

You huff out a quick, quiet sigh, lips upturning as you catch the bottom one between your teeth, and then you begin to pace around some more. "Yours is very…"

"Very…?"

"Handsome," you respond meekly. "Very handsome."

Vante chuckles, and it is a sound so rich and deep you physically swoon, knees weakening some as you twist your body in the direction of your bedroom, needing to move around and let out some energy. 

"So…" Vante begins, and you smile further as you mirror him, asking, "So…?"

"So, what are you wearing?" 

After a pause, he clarifies, "To the date, I mean," with a tone that is playful and seductive.

With your free hand, you fidget with the bottom hem of your black sweater and almost regret considering an outfit so plain. You remind yourself that the plan is to string him along, at least for now. 

Playing along with V's demeanor, you giggle, doing your best to sound shy. "Nothing too flashy…I was thinking a black tee tucked into black jeans. It's cooling down, so maybe my favorite oversized forest green flannel. And some black boots."

"And this tee…will it be a crew neck, or maybe a v-neck?"

You mentally pat yourself on the back for being the most clever person alive as you say, "A v-neck, in your honor, of course."

"Of course."

"And you?"

"I was thinking about wearing a tight white tee tucked into some tight black jeans. With boots, and maybe a flashy designer jacket."

You hum and close your eyes, attempting to remember Vante's body type in the many photos you have seen. As far as you remember, he is a bit muscular and seems on the taller side. Broad and masculine but not overly ripped. 

"Emphasis on the tight," you tease. 

Vante chuckles, forcing your eyelids to flutter closed, then he says, "God, there are so many things I want to say in response to that, but I feel I should save them for the second or third date."

"Wow," you respond, feeling a sudden shyness that only increases as he continues to laugh.

"Alright, pretty," he finally says, "just wanted to hear your voice quick, but I should let you get back to winding down. I have to finish up here and then catch my flight home."

"Sounds good. Safe travels."

"See you soon," Vante sing-songs, and you feel yourself swaying when you say, "Looking forward to it."

And then the call ends, snapping you back to reality. Your eyes focus on the top of your wooden dresser and you heavy-blink, reminding yourself that this is a mission and that you are not, under any circumstances, supposed to get close to either of these men. 

But god damn does Vante sound real fucking sexy. This might be a problem.

* * *

The Marías play loud and dreamy as you twirl and sway through your room, holding your soft green flannel in both hands. It fans out with each movement, and you twist it dramatically to drape it over your shoulders. 

Although you are dressed down in a tee and skinny jeans, you look good. The garments hug your curves nicely, and the shirt shows off just enough cleavage without it feeling like too much for a casual night at the bar. 

You apply a little makeup to your eyes and cheekbones, then look over your jewelry, deciding on a simple pair of gold hoops and the necklace that you always wear – a small gold charm in the shape of a rabbit's foot dangling from a thin gold chain, for luck.

Although there is plenty of time to eat a meal before heading to the bar, you feel so antsy that you only manage to pick at a salad and some fruit. You chug some water and then check the time. 

And with a deep breath, you decide to head out early and text your boss.

// these two conversations take place at the same time - you can use time stamps to track the back and forth if you want to //

With the phone you were using to text Vante slid into your small black leather purse, and the phone you were texting Seokjin with sitting facedown on the countertop, you swivel to the left in time to find the man who had been sitting across from you taking a seat one stool away.  

"Hey," he mutters, head tilted down too far for you to see his face clearly. "I hope you don't mind that I join you on this side? Things over there got a bit too wild for my taste."

Two things stand out about the way this man speaks. The first is that there is a hint of an accent, especially on certain consonants, and it seems that he is speaking in a slow and measured way that almost makes his words feel somewhat forced. The second is that, despite feeling forced, his voice is very deep but also quite mellow and soothing. 

Although he does not sound like the man you spoke to on the phone last night, there are enough hints of similarities that remind you of him. At least you are somewhat certain that this man is not Vante based on physical stature, but you decide to stay alert just in case.

"I don't mind," you respond, making your voice sound as sweet and inviting as possible.

The man, who seems to be wiping at his drink-dampened black shirt and jeans with a grey bar rag, looks up and regards you with a familiarity in his eyes that causes you to pause. You watch as his face comes clearly into view beneath the visor of the black baseball cap, and his eyes linger on you. 

Time feels as if it slows down as you watch this stranger's eyes trace over your face. And then he blinks rapidly, gives his head a quick little shake, and chuckles.

"Sorry, you…" he begins, turning his attention back to his shirt, then glancing your way briefly to say, "you remind me of someone."

"Oh?" you ask, swiveling on your stool enough to fully face him. 

The man hums, then sighs and lets his arms drape at his sides. He looks defeated; the wet mark on his shirt is pretty large. 

"Lemme buy you a drink to make up for that person's sloppiness?" you ask with one of your wide, winning smiles. 

He shakes his head and tosses the rag onto the bar, turning his body to face the counter but staying angled slightly toward you, tilting his chin at the two shots that have been neglected beside your purse. 

"Looks like you're expecting someone."

"I was," you clarify, dragging out the 's' as you rotate toward the bar but keep yourself slightly angled at him. You glance back at the shots of Fireball. "I think I got stood up."

From the corner of your eye, you watch the man straighten up, and you smile to yourself as he mutters, "Oh! Oh, that's so unfortunate."

Although you should check to make sure Vante is still not receiving or responding to your messages, you feel bold enough to turn to the man and slide one of the two shots his way. 

"Join me?" you ask. "Not as a date but just as…a person who can help me with these shots."

"Are you sure?" the man asks, reaching for the glass and eyeing it suspiciously. "What is this, anyway?"

Rather than answer, you watch the man lift the shot glass to his nose and frown. Through a giggle, you say, "It's Fireball," and reach for the second one.

"Cinnamon," he mutters in understanding rather than a question, and you nod, swiveling once more to face him. He concedes with a shrug, saying, "Alright," and your smile wider. 

"Cheers," you say, holding your shot toward the man who mutters, "Yes, cheers. To accidentally having poor judgment and winding up beside one another." 

You laugh as you tap your glass against his and lift the shot to your lips. The cinnamon flavor kicks you square in the mouth, cloying your senses with a bittersweet assault of artificial earthiness and heady whiskey. 

The man winces and shakes his head, slamming his glass against the counter ungracefully and sticking out his tongue. You take the opportunity to tease him about his toast, asking, "Poor judgment, eh?"

With a deep, pretty chuckle, he says, "You made a date with a flake and I humored conversation with a slob." 

Briefly, your gaze flicks to the woman who had been talking to him before, and she is shouting something while waving her arms emphatically, thankfully not holding a drink. When he finishes his statement with, "And here we are," you rip your gaze away and regard him.

This man is very attractive up close, with soft lips and a sharp stare. If you squint he would look similar to the photos you have seen of Min, only his nose is more straight and pointed, and his eyes appear to be a light hazel green. 

You offer your right hand and introduce yourself as Sandra, sitting tall on the barstool and watching as he hesitates to lift his own. 

"My English name is Cody."

"Cody," you mutter, feeling your lips fight the urge to smile, and you know that your eyes are widening, but you attempt to stay as straight-faced as possible. Cody is such a bro name, you would not have guessed it was his. Cody grabs onto your hand in a warm, firm shake that does not last long enough, and you ask, "And your non-English name? Or is that impolite to ask?"

"Not impolite," Cody responds, "just reserved for those close to me and when I travel back to Korea."

What are the odds that you meet someone from Korea while being stood up by Vante? At least you feel justified in the swirling thoughts that insist Cody seems similar to Min. 

You even wonder if Min Cody, or Cody Min, could be someone's name. You hope that another drink will quiet those thoughts enough so you can have a pleasant conversation with him before walking back home. Once there, you can do some searches just to put your mind at ease.

"This round is on me," Cody insists as he sits high in his chair and reaches for the wallet in his front pocket. 

Another loud group enters and files around the bar to where the two of you sit, and as you get the bartender's attention, Cody begins looking around behind the two of you. 

"There's a hightop in the corner. Would you be comfortable going there?"

Although the bar is not too dimly lit that retreating to the corner would shroud the two of you in shadow, there is some comfort in being seated at the bar with a tender nearby. But the crowd only seems to get bigger and louder, settling on stools to your right while others stand behind those seated, and so you nod, already fed up with this group.

"Sure, yeah," you say as you slam back the remnants of your drink. "I'll secure us a spot."

"Gin and tonic?" Cody asks, stopping you in your tracks. An icy chill works down your spine, and you wonder how the hell he knows what you are drinking. But then he adds, "Or was it something with vodka?"

Although his addition assuages some of your discomfort, there is a nagging feeling that he somehow knows what the bartender poured for you, making you uncomfortable. Your drink was clear, so gin and tonic is a fair assumption.

"Y-yeah," you respond, testing him by saying, "It was gin and tonic. Tanqueray." 

Had he watched the bartender, he would have known the man poured you Hendrick's. Cody seems unfazed.

"Sounds good," he says, adding, "I think I'll have that too," as you turn away with your purse clutched tightly in your hand and approach a tall round table in the corner with two stools sitting vacant beside it. 

As you take a seat on the little wooden stool, you attempt to settle your pounding heart and unravel this situation mentally. The feeling nagging at you to be weary of Cody is quite present, but you are unsure whether it is him that makes you feel this way or if you are struggling to set aside the case that you are working on. 

Seokjin has been going to great lengths to keep things secretive, which in and of itself causes disquiet. And now Cody carries similar enough traits with one of your targets that the foreboding nature of your job is all that you seem to be able to think about.  

It is unfair to you for these thoughts to cloud your mind so heavily, and you hope that this next drink will help you relax. Sure there are a lot of coincidences, but this is a large city with a diverse population. Coincidences certainly can happen. Unfortunately, as soon as Cody approaches with the glasses, your bladder begins to ache. 

"Thank you," you sing-song as you stand from the stool that you only sat on a moment ago. "I need to run to the bathroom quickly."

Cody responds, "Have fun!" and you giggle as you walk toward a small doorway off to the right that opens into a hallway containing two gender-neutral restrooms. As you enter the closest of the two rooms, you click the lock on the door handle in place, then begin to shimmy your jeans down and take a seat, fishing through your purse for the other phone and finding that Vante has, in fact, never seen your last messages. 

You wonder if there is a chance that he has somehow found out that you are an officer attempting to make contact with him. But it would make more sense for him to simply still be in Europe, possibly just playing a game with you because he takes pleasure in toying with people. It seems dramatic even when you think about it, but what else could it be?

As you put your phone away, reach for toilet paper, and wipe yourself off, you take a deep breath in and out and try to center your thoughts. Tomorrow, you will regroup with Seokjin and form a new plan. If you have to wait a little while to get onto Min's tutoring list, it is not the end of the world. For tonight, you should just enjoy yourself. 

With your pants buttoned and everything in place, you wash your hands, inspect your face and hair to verify that you still look as amazing as ever, and exit the restroom. Some top 40s song from the 90s plays that has a lot of the college kids shouting, and you return to your seat while Cody types something on his phone and then slides it into his front pocket. 

"So do you always come to the bar alone and wear a baseball cap to hide your identity?" you tease, unsure where any of this is coming from but feeling a strange burst of energy. You reason with yourself that you still need verification that he is not Min.

Cody laughs, reaches for the hat, and pulls it off. His hair is clearly bleached blond and colored mint green, which is a little more difficult to see in the less well-lit corner. It falls over his forehead, parted down the center, nearly covering his eyes, and he looks dreadfully pretty. 

"Is this look less threatening?" he asks, running a hand through it only for it to fall neatly in place again. 

Once more, the nagging voice in the back of your head tells you that this haircut seems similar to the one in the surveillance photos of Min. You remind yourself that you have never seen the man in person and that your brain could simply be filling in information in an attempt to create patterns because that is what human brains do best. But the similarity is striking.

"Yes," you say after too long of a pause, angling yourself toward him, slightly to the left from facing the table. 

"This one's for you," Cody says as he slides a full drink in your direction. 

You take the chilled glass and lift it to your lips, then you playfully say, "And you didn't drug it, I assume?"

Cody does not immediately respond to what you say; he stares blankly for a split moment before blinking and chuckling. The pause makes you worry, but then he says, "I assure you I did not, but if you would like to switch—"

"No, no," you insist, feeling awkward for saying anything at all. If it weren't for all the time you spent shadowing the special victims detectives over the summer, you would likely not instantly assume that any drink offered from a stranger could be tainted.

With a sigh, Cody says, "Nah, here, switch with me. We'll just swap out the straws because I had a sip of mine."

Before you can respond, he gently pulls the drink from your fingers and replaces it with his own. You watch as he swaps the straws, feeling your mouth tug into a smile, and when he is finished, you pull the drink to your lips and have a sip.

"When the drug kicks in, you might have to walk me to a cab, though," Cody jokes, insinuating that he has now drugged himself, and you nearly spit out the gin and tonic that has barely had a chance to settle on your tongue.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," he laughs as you struggle to keep your composure and swallow your first sip. You set that glass down and raise your hand as if threatening to backhand him, making him flinch and dramatically gasp. 

Without thinking, you say, "You're a pain in the ass," making him laugh harder. 

"It's not funny to joke about that, I know," he says, still chuckling. "But in my defense, you started it."

Rather than respond with words, you simply hum and have another sip through the straw. This seems to amuse him, causing the laughter to continue.

Conversation with Cody is nice and easy. He tells you that he is a student at a nearby university, and you tell him that you are also a student – the same lie you tell to everyone. 

He talks about growing up in New York with one American parent but visiting Korea often, hoping that once he graduates he can spend more time with his family. You describe your past and relationship with your family with very general, distant details, excluding a lot. 

The parents that come along with your fake identity are not too exciting; mom is a legal aid and dad is a veterinarian. You attend such a prestigious school to follow in their overachieving footsteps, blah blah blah. 

By the time you discover Cody can speak three languages and has a deep love of anime, your drinks are empty. And although you should stop while you are ahead and call it a night, a large part of you wants to keep drinking. 

"Another?" Cody asks, and you sigh, nibbling your bottom lip. 

"I want to," you say, uncertainty in your tone. 

Cody must pick up on it, saying, "But…"

"But I also don't want to get very drunk."

"We can switch to non-alcoholic," he offers, shifting around on his stool. "Or go somewhere else." You raise an eyebrow, and he lifts his hands as if in surrender, insisting, "No funny business! Just thought we could hang out somewhere quieter. Doesn't have to be one of our places. I don't live too close by anyway."

This surprises you a little. "No?" 

"Nah," he shrugs, "I just like the atmosphere in this area more than where I live so I cab over to waste my time and cash here, instead."

Although you should not blurt, "I live nearby," you do anyway. In an attempt to not sound like you are trying to get into Cody's pants, you add, "But I don't know what we would do. I don't really watch TV."

"Have you eaten?" Cody asks, seemingly unfazed by your word vomit.

As if on cue, your stomach grumbles, and you giggle while shaking your head. You remember the meager amount of food you managed to eat before shuffling out into the evening. 

"I had something light, so…no. Not really."

"Why don't we grab a bite nearby? Maybe that will give us the reprieve we both seek…I'm sure most food establishments aren't this loud and rambunctious."

The reprieve we both seek… It's nothing too big or wild, but it is just austere enough to make you think about Vante. Although you feel frustrated that your mind is so eager to continue circling back to him, you consider that if this were Min sitting before you, there is a good chance they both speak similarly. It could be a slip up.

"Or…not…" Cody says, and you rapidly blink out of your thoughts and shake your head, offering a smile and a giggle.

"I space out," you supply plainly, "a lot. Sorry."

"Ah," he responds, sitting up a little higher. "No problem."

"Do you eat meat? There's a burger shop nearby that I really like."

Cody smiles and shrugs. "I eat everything."

As you stand up to stretch, the room tilts. It catches you off guard, and you halt your movement, then do your best to breathe through it and blink it away. Cody has his head tilted down, putting on his hat, and you are thankful that he does not seem to notice.

With a smile, he lifts his hand and says, "Lead the way," but there is something different about his voice. Deep and inviting in a familiar yet unfamiliar way, and far more accented than it had been all night. 

You shake it off and nod your head. Despite only having two drinks and a shot, you are not a heavy drinker as is, and on an empty stomach, it is enough to weigh you down and make you paranoid. You just need to get out into the cool open air and you will feel much better. 

But your feet are heavy. Each step that you take feels weighed down, and there is a lightness to you that feels as if fog is simmering through your system. Alarm bells begin beaming through your body, and you worry that perhaps you should try to get rid of Cody and call Seokjin.

Cody places a hand on your lower back. "Everything alright, space cadet?" he asks in the same tone he has taken all night, and you nod. 

You are certain he could not have done anything to your drink while you sat there and drank it with him. And if he drugged both drinks, he should be equally affected. 

But if he did do something, you are not eager to draw attention to feeling sluggish. You think it would be best to just get rid of him somehow. It just becomes a matter of how much time you have before the effects hit you harder, if at all.

The two of you make your way through the bar, and you oddly feel much more in control when you are moving steadily rather than little by little. You forget all about getting rid of Cody and walk right to the burger spot around the corner. 

But standing on line at the counter in the brightly lit space feels overwhelming, and it all comes back again. You open your mouth and say, "So," but catch yourself. So you really did drug my drink, huh? 

"So?" Cody asks, leaning close, and you notice a musk that cuts through the deep-fryer stench. It's nice and rich, inviting but not cloying. 

"So I usually get the bacon cheeseburger," you ramble, "and fries. But I imagine everything here is pretty good."

"Good to know," he responds, voice bright. You think his hand may be on your lower back again, but you are not quite sure. 

When it is your turn to order, your mind screeches to a halt. You stare up at the white menu board with red text, and you cannot find words. 

"Was it a bacon cheeseburger?" Cody supplies. "A number two?"

"Y-yeah," you respond, looking at the bored teen behind the register. "No tomato, please. And a soft drink."

"You?" the teen asks, eyes moving to Cody. 

Cody hums, soft and dulcet. Hypnotizing. "I'll have the same, but with tomato please."

Without asking, Cody pulls out his card to pay. Only, when he begins to hold it out, he quickly pulls it back. "Actually," he mutters, "I should use this cash."

Although you are unable to see the name on it, you notice that it is a black card, which feels far too prestigious for a university student to have access to. You realize that neither of you told one another your age – you just assume he is close to yours.

The cashier gives the two of you a number and two empty paper cups, and you make your way over to the soft drink dispenser and stare at the options. Caffeine could make you feel better, but then you risk the chance of staying up late. Sugar might cause you to have a hangover in the morning, but you think you could risk it for some lemonade. 

"Preference?" Cody asks, holding up the beverage cups. 

You have gravitated to the ketchup dispenser to fill two tiny paper cups, still thinking about beverage options. 

"Lemonade, please. With like…half ice? Not too much."

"Got it," he responds, holding one of the cups under an ice dispenser. 

"Ketchup?" you ask. 

"Two please."

You manage to get all four tiny paper cups of ketchup into your left palm, then turn to watch Cody securing plastic lids over both drinks and grabbing two paper-wrapped straws. The two of you sit, and you take your drink and straw with a small, "Thank you."

Perhaps it is the prospect of having food in your system that is causing you to feel more energized, but maneuvering through the booths and finding one along the wall is easy. You begin to wonder if maybe something about the gin and tonic was just off. Maybe you got hit with a wave of intoxication. 

Once you get settled, Cody takes out his phone and smiles at the screen before typing out what you assume to be a response to a message. His smile lifts, showing off his gums and pearly teeth, and you catch yourself staring before blinking your gaze elsewhere. 

Out of curiosity, you pull the phone from your purse and check to see if Vante ever saw any of your messages, and you frown at the discovery that he has not. His behavior is weird, but you suppose you were also planning on playing games with the guy. Still, being stood up is being stood up, and it is hard not to take it personally. 

Cody continues typing away at his phone while you wait for your food, chuckling quietly from time to time and making you feel awkward for sitting here with nothing to say. It is not that you don't have people who you can also text, but it feels rude to do it when you are with someone in a restaurant. 

Not that it is a date, nor do you two owe each other anything, you remind yourself, feeling silly for forgetting that simple fact. The two of you are just strangers who happened to meet and who decided to share a drink and a burger. Nothing more. In fact, if you remember correctly, Cody removed what looks like a wedding band from his ring finger earlier in the night.

Another grumpy teen brings your food in bright red baskets, and Cody finally puts his phone away. He smiles and says, "This looks great," and lifts his gaze to you for only a split second before looking back down. 

Something in his eyes seems different, but you are unable to put your finger on what. They seemed sharper, somehow…almost seductive. 

You reach for your food and dig in, doing your best to not moan when the grease hits your tongue. Conversation continues to be non-existent with the exception of Cody groaning through a mouthful about how good his burger is. 

Once you are down to just lemonade and some wayward fries, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Unfortunately, your bladder is on a bit of a timer when you consume alcohol, and the added liquid does not help. 

You are grateful when there is no line and make quick work of relieving your bladder and washing your hands. The mirror is covered in stickers, but you lean forward on your toes and do your best to take in your state. 

To your surprise, your pupils are constricted quite small, and you begin to worry all over again that something could have been added to your drink. Somewhat sluggishly, you turn and grip onto the door handle, yanking it open and feeling tired from every small movement. 

Cody is back on his phone when you return, but he regards you with a polite smile and glances at you long enough for you to notice that his eyes seem perfectly normal – a sign that he likely did not drug both drinks, and evidence that he likely did not drug yours.

This fixation only makes you feel paranoid, and you wet your lips, eye up the rest of your food, and decide that you should call it a night. Cody's fries are all gone, and he barely has any soda left, which you find rather disappointing because you would have liked to leave alone. You suppose you still can.

"Well, I'm just down the block," you say, rubbing your hands, which begin to sweat, down your thighs. "It was nice to meet you."

"I would offer to walk you home," Cody says through a sigh, leaning back in a stretch, "but being that I am still a stranger, it may make you uncomfortable to have me knowing where you live."

You hum and nod to acknowledge and agree with what he says. 

"But if you'd like I could sit on a phone call?" he offers, resting his arm over the back of the booth. 

With a shrug, you shake your head to decline, but your mouth betrays you by saying, "Alright, sure."

"Yeah?" Cody asks, smiling brightly and sitting up from his relaxed position. He takes out his phone, and although you only catch a glimpse of his lock screen, there is something familiar about the image. It's the colors. Tan skin, greyish fabric, gold jewelry. You wonder where you may have seen it before.

Cody breaks you from your thoughts, asking, "What's your number?"

Once more, your mind draws a blank, and you search your brain. What is your phone number? "Uh…212...555…55…26—wait."

Cody looks up from where he is typing on his phone, and you realize you had given him your actual number and not the burner number that Vante has.

"That's my work phone, it's 5505."

With a light chuckle, Cody finishes saving your number. And then he must call you because your purse begins to vibrate. 

"That's me," he says with a smile and a wave.

"Alright," you respond, reaching absent-mindedly for your cup of lemonade and taking a large gulp. Although you do not look at Cody, you can feel his eyes on you.

Your phone stops vibrating, but you open your purse and pull the device out, ready to call Cody back once you begin your walk. Not that you think you need to, seeing that your block is relatively safe and you are not shy about walking at night. You carry pepper spray and a knife in your purse, but you are also worried you may not have the coordination to wield either. 

With a limp lift of your hand, you begin to wave, muttering, "Uh, thanks. I would have finished my drink and gone home feeling a little defeated tonight. It was nice to have company."

Why are you saying all of this? Cody is attractive, kind, smart, and has a fun sense of humor, but you were planning on just brushing him off. Plus he might be married.

He smiles and it is bright and disarming. From where he sits, his head is tilted back enough to see under his baseball cap, giving a view of his handsome features and long, pretty throat that bobs when he swallows. 

"I'm glad," he says, voices soft and deep. "You also made my night better. I almost forgot all about how damp my sweater and jeans are."

"Almost," you repeat, smiling. Suddenly, you feel shy – why do you feel shy? "Alright, well…I'll call you."

"Okay," he says, smiling as he sits up. 

You turn to leave, and the room tilts once more. So hard, in fact, that it makes you queasy. From the corner of your eye, you notice Cody sitting at attention, and you wonder if you visibly lurched. 

"Ugh, I'm a lightweight," you complain, hoping to brush it off, but before making another move, it begins to feel as if the floor is sinking away. 

"Sandra?" Cody mutters, "You alright?"

"Y-yeah," you insist, but you are not alright. Something is definitely wrong.

"Maybe I should call you a cab? Or something?"

You shake your head, "I live too close. It's not worth it."

"Alright, then how about I walk you? I'll keep my head down. I won't look at where we go."

Although you mean to laugh, it comes out in a scoff. "Alright, fine."

Cody is quick to get on his feet and slot an arm around your waist, holding you loosely but making you feel secure. The two of you walk through the somewhat tight path between booths, hips pressed against one another and warm, but then he gives you space as soon as there is some to give, only resting his hand against your back as he reaches for the door. 

"How many drinks did you have?" Cody asks in a way that is gentle and not at all accusatory. 

"Just what you saw," you respond sluggishly. "Two plus the one shot."

The two of you walk to the left and down the block. In the fresh night air, at a steady pace, you feel much more comfortable. It's the stopping and starting that seems to fuck with you. 

At least the weather is nice – a chill in the air but not cold. The seasons are certainly changing, but at a pace you can acclimate easily to. 

Cody hums some tune, and you keep wanting to ask him what it is, but you find that you are unable to make yourself speak. This causes your palms to prickle with anxiety.

"How long have you lived here?" Cody asks after about a block.

"A few years," you respond robotically, curious why you are suddenly able to talk without issue.

"I was wondering why a college student isn't living on campus. Then again…you seem too old to be living in the dorms." This line of conversation feels strange, but you can't pinpoint why. "Did you take some time off in between schooling?"

"No," you respond before you can stop yourself.

"Did you study something else before theater arts and music?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting."

Fear spikes, and you worry that he may ask you what you previously studied. It is so odd that you are so easily answering questions that you would ordinarily lie around – your undercover persona did not study anything before becoming a theater arts major. She traveled and worked at her father's veterinarian office as a receptionist while taking some time to decide what career path she wanted to take. 

Cody stops abruptly, muttering, "Shit, my shoe is untied," pulling you from your spiral.

As he bends to sort that out, you lift your gaze from where it had been glued and unfocused to the sidewalk and look around. Just up ahead is your building. 

"Oh," you say weakly, "we're here."

You continue on without your companion, putting one foot in front of the other and reaching for your purse, which is slung over your shoulder. Although you use this purse often, you struggle to get the zipper opened, and you stumble while focusing on it too much. 

The hand on your back returns, helping you to feel steady, and Cody asks, "Need some help with that?"

Luckily, you find your keys and hold them up, feeling triumphant. Cody walks you to the front landing, up four short steps to the high Victorian door, and waits patiently as you attempt to grab hold of the correct key, only to drop them to cement in a loud clatter. 

You feel frustrated as you say, "Fuck," and Cody is quick to bend and hold them out. 

"Large gold one," you say, and he lifts the correct key and leans to slot it into the keyhole. 

The last thing you want is for this stranger to walk you to your front door, but your dizziness is only increasing, and you are unsure whether you can make it to your second-story flat alone. 

The brownstone you live in is just like any other – tall and old as fuck. As you enter and begin toward the stairs, every footfall can be heard, creaking in a greeting you are all too familiar with. The staircase is tall, and you grip onto the railing and make your way up. Cody seems to hesitate.

"I don't have to continue if you think you got it," he says.

Without stopping or looking back, you grumble, "Need my keys."

Cody meets you on the stairs, and with a hand on your back, gently presses you to walk up. You are grateful for his warmth and for his assistance. 

And, at this point, if he tries anything once you are in your apartment, it will all be caught on camera. Not to mention, there is a Glock in your nightstand. 

"Thank you," you mumble as you reach the top of the stairs and turn right to the tall white door. "Small gold key."

Inside your front pants pocket, your main phone buzzes with a notification that there is someone at your door. You ignore it, seeing as that someone is you. 

Cody is quick to find the correct key and unlock your flat. He holds onto your arm while you kick out of your boots, and he toes out of his shoes and says, "Just want to get you a glass of water, okay?"

From where the two of you stand near the front entrance, there is a camera trained directly on both of your faces hidden in a bookshelf. You accept his offer and hobble off toward your room.

Your flat is somewhat of a rectangle. You enter into the living room, and to the right, straight ahead down a hallway is your large master bedroom. Tucked away on the left as you walk through the hallway is a kitchen and then a bathroom. 

It feels too warm in your flat, pulling you off kilter, and you throw your purse toward your bed, which rests in the center of your room against the right wall, missing and watching it hit the floor in a loud thud. Then you stumble forward and fall to your butt on the edge of the mattress and begin to yank at the sleeves of your green flannel, wiggling about in an attempt to shed it from you. 

Cody appears with a large plastic white cup and halts in the doorway. He shifts, and you catch him averting his eyes. 

"Just trying to get rid of this thing," you grumble impatiently as the garment falls from your left shoulder but won't comply to go any lower. With a sigh, you give up and smile at Cody.

"You can just set it here," you nod toward your small wooden bedside table. "The door will lock when you leave. Thanks for the help."

Cody approaches slowly, and you wonder if it is meant to put you at ease – no sudden movements – but the anticipation begins to weigh on you. You want to lay down and go to sleep, and you want Cody to leave.

He smiles and levels his face with yours, eyes searching for something. Then he places the cup on the table and says, "I hope you feel better."

"Thanks," you mutter, wishing he would leave. 

Cody bends and lifts your purse from the floor, which is open and spilling its contents. He sets it beside the cup of water and hands you your phone. Then he stands straight and fishes his own from his pocket, thumbing around before calling you.

He lifts the phone to his ear, and when you continue to stare, he tilts his chin toward the vibrating device in your hands. With a knit brow, you cock your head to the side but answer his call, lifting the phone to your ear.

"I figure that if I am being trusted to leave on my own, I should give you some assurance that I am, in fact, leaving."

"Okay…" you respond, drawing the word out. You could have all the assurance you need by watching the video footage from your hidden camera, but you suppose this is a kind gesture.

Cody smiles, lifts a hand, and waves. Then he turns and leaves the room. 

"It was nice meeting you, Sandra," he says, drawing your fake name out nice and slow.

"You too," you mutter, heavy with sleep.

"Sorry the night ended this way."

You sigh. "Me too."

"If you ever want drinks and a burger again, let me know. I'm just a short cab ride away."

Briefly, you wonder if the two of you hit it off. It was fun and comfortable talking with Cody, but you are still concerned with how drunk you became – if that is what you can call whatever is happening to you.

"Alright," you respond too late, hoping to be polite. 

In the living room, you hear some soft sounds and then the door opening. Although it is faint, you think you hear it closing, as well. 

"I have left your humble abode," he says as the phone in your pocket buzzes with another notification to alert you that someone is outside your apartment.

You assume that the reason he insisted on calling was so that once he was outside of the apartment, you would only hear his voice through the phone. It is a nice gesture.

"Thanks again," you say, sighing with relief. 

Through the phone, you can hear the steps creaking as he descends the stairwell. "My pleasure."

You begin to fade fast. Although you know that you should drink water, you twist your body, lift your legs onto the bed, and curl up. You feel too warm to care about your comforter, but you lament not having enough energy to get out of your jeans.

The phone ends up under your face. Miraculously, your cheek does not end the call. 

"Tired," you mutter, feeling your eyelids flutter. 

"It was so nice meeting you," Cody says, and in an instant, your blood turns cold. 

That is the exact voice you spoke with on the phone last night. The accent is much more prominent, just as it was last night, and it is much more gravely. It is unmistakable.

He adds, "Sleep sweet, pretty," before hanging up, and you curl in on yourself, panting and shivering, hanging in a horrifying liminal space of being too afraid to want to sleep but too intoxicated to keep your eyes open.

'Cause I know what you're thinkin' about Babe, I'll let you spin me around I know what you're thinking about Babe, I'll let you spin me around Babe, I'll let you spin me around Babe, I'll let you spin me around

🎵 visit the playlist!

the feelings of being drugged are all kinda made up but also based on the drug ghb. please do not feel the need to sully your internet searches! i will explain it all in detail in upcoming chapters. and you may have noticed that because mc is a detective and trying to figure out who these men are, there is a lot of talk about facial features and accents. this is in no way meant to fetishize these characteristics, it is simply detective work - i tried to keep it as broad/general as possible. the little ploy that was played at the bar is based on something called "operation fireball" - google it if you're into true crime!

also!!! please never take a drink from a stranger or leave a drink unattended!!!

CAN YOU TRACK WHO THESE PEOPLE ARE THAT MC IS COMMUNICATING WITH??? everything will be made clear soon, but feel free to speculate!!! readers of the taegi pov probably already know what's going on, but mc pov purists will have all the questions answered quickly, as well!!! don't worry. 🤍

ARE WE HAVING FUN? QUESTIONS??? CONCERNS??? REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! 🤍🤍🤍 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I LOVE YOU! DRINK SOME WATER AND STRETCH YOUR NECK!!!

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White Lies is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. No translations or reposts allowed!

#yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #taegi x reader #taegi smut #bts poly #bts yandere #bts angst #bts smut #bts social media au #undescribed #undescribed images #fic: white lies

[alba-longa]

Emperor Caracalla as sole ruler, 212-17, white marble, h. 57 cm, Altes Museum, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Berlin. 

Marcus Aurelius Severus Antoninus, given the nickname Caracalla (after a hooded Gallic cloak) even during his lifetime, came to power with his younger brother Geta after the death of their father Septimius Severus (r. 193–211). Their coregency suddenly ended when Caracalla ordered the death of Geta and many of his supporters in 212… In Mesopotamia on April 8, 217, after five years as sole ruler, Caracalla too was murdered. Caracalla looked to Alexander the Great as a role model and sought to imitate him in both conduct and appearance. “He was such a passionate devotee of Alexander’s that he used certain weapons and drinking cups that he thought had once belonged to Alexander. He also set up many portraits of Alexander…” (Cassius Dio, Roman History 78, 7, 1). Caracalla supposedly modelled himself on the Macedonian ruler even in his gestures and facial expressions. The Berlin portrait depicts Caracalla’s head and entire upper body, as was popular among portrait busts from the second century AD onward. Except for the general’s cloak draped over his left shoulder and the sword belt across his chest, the emperor is nude. The nudity combined with the military trappings elevates him above the realm of the everyday into a heroic sphere. His head is stocky and compact, and turned strongly towards his left shoulder. His hair, rendered in knotlike tufts, lies close to his skull. The tufts at the center of his forehead are clustered together and point upwards, perhaps a play on Alexander the Great’s hairstyle (anastole). A short moustache and beard complete the coiffure. The facial features are full of energy: numerous horizontal and vertical creases on the forehead and bridge of the nose accentuate the powerful movement and drama of the whole physiognomy. The effect is heightened by the partially shaved chin and the small, slightly open mouth. The portrait follows not only images of Alexander but also those of athletes. In AD 212 this portrait type, the so-called “sole ruler” type, replaced the portrait of Caracalla as the young successor to the throne. It remained in use until AD 217. In presenting himself as a vigorous autocrat living up to athletic and military ideals, the emperor represented himself in a manner very different to that of his predecessors. — text via Google Arts & Culture (© Verlag Philipp von Zabern, Antikensammlung, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin).  

#Emperor Caracalla #Caracalla #Ancient Rome #statues

[garadinervi]

From: Jannis Kounellis in Six Acts, Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, MN, 2022

Edited with text by Vincenzo de Bellis Foreword by Mary Ceruti Texts: Michelle Coudray, Claire Gilman, Kit Hammonds, William Hernández Luege, Jannis Kounellis, and Ara H. Merjian

Design Director: Emmet Byrne Designer: Ben Schwartz Editor: Pamela Johnson Publications Manager: Jake Yuzna Indexer: Enid Zafran Image Specialist: Colour & Books

Printed by Musumeci, Italy Typefaces: Linotype Vega; Bistream Geometric 212

Paper: 100 gsm Munken Pure rough 1.4

→ #jannis kounellis in six acts

#graphic design #typography #art #drawing #mixed media #structure #sculpture #installation #catalogue #catalog #cover #jannis kounellis in six acts #jannis kounellis #vincenzo de bellis #mary ceruti #michelle coudray #claire gilman #kit hammonds #william hernández luege #ara h. merjian #emmet byrne #ben schwartz #pamela johnson #jake yuzna #enid zafran #walker art center #musumeci #2020s

[lonestarflight]

"Workers at the Michoud Assembly Facility (MAF) near New Orleans, Louisiana, install the last engine on the S-IB-12 stage. Developed by the Marshall Space Flight Center (MSFC) and built by the Chrysler Corporation at MAF, the S-IB stage utilized eight H-1 engines to produce a combined thrust of 1,600,000 pounds."

In the background is S-IB-7, which launched Skylab 3 into space on July 28, 1973. This S-IB-12 was intended for the SA-212 launch vehicle. Its second stage, S-IVB, was converted into the Skylab Orbit Workshop and launched on the Saturn V SA-513 on May 14, 1973. Its first stage, S-IB, was later scrapped.

Date: 1967

NASA ID: 6759809

#SA-212 #Skylab III #Skylab 3 #SL-3 #SLM-2 #Saturn IB #SA-207 #Rocket #NASA #Apollo Program #Apollo Applications Program #S-IB #Construction #Michoud Assembly Facility #New Orleans #Louisiana #1967 #my post

[theartofmetal]

212. Veracious Bastion - Haste (Black Metal, 2023 - EP)

Art by H. Navi / Moon Sang-Ho

#metal #black metal #art #artwork #music #painting #drawing #illustration #heavy music #artist #cover art #heavy #independent music #australia #underground music #underground #underground metal #veracious #bastion

[wrestler-smash-or-pass]

Weekly Wrapup 2/11/24 (late!)

This Week's Rankings:

Risa Sera - 84.2% smash

Sami Zayn - 77.0%

Christian Cage (The Patriarch) - 76.8%

AJ Lee - 75.6%

Rowdy Roddy Piper - 64.3%

Luna Vachon - 64.1%

Trish Stratus (Modern) - 58.1%

Dolph Ziggler - 57.4%

Cara Noir - 57.1%

Jeff Cobb - 50.6%

The Rock - 38.5%

AJ Styles - 37.6%

Dijak - 34.7%

Spike Trivet - 12.6%

More stats under the cut, along with my observations, commentary, and some of my favorite tags...

Most total votes this week (most enthusiasm)

Christian Cage - 582

Sami Zayn - 435

Dolph Ziggler - 289

Rowdy Roddy Piper - 277

The Rock - 270

And least total votes this week (least enthusiasm)

Spike Trivet - 175

Risa Sera - 183

Luna Vachon - 198

Dijak - 202

Cara Noir - 212

The closest poll was Jeff Cobb, who won 124-121

Top Ten Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Athena - 90.2% smash

Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash

Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash

Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash

Toni Storm - 88.1% smash

Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Bianca Belair - 86.4% smash

Hikuleo - 86.0% smash

Bottom Ten Overall

Vince McMahon - 3.9% smash

Kane (Corporate variant) - 10.1% smash

Miracle Violence Connection - 11.8% smash

Gene Munny - 12.4% smash

Spike Trivet - 12.% smash

Triple H (Terra Ryzing variant) - 18.6% smash

Charlie Dempsey - 22.1% smash

The Boogeyman - 22.6% smash

Brock Lesnar - 23.2% smash

Marty Scurll - 23.8% smash

Top Women Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Athena - 90.2% smash

Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash

Toni Storm - 88.1% smash

Bianca Belair - 86.4% smash

Bottom Women Overall

Carmella - 47.8% smash

Nikkita Lyons - 48.2% smash

Julia Hart (Cheerleader Variant) - 49.8% smash

Trish Stratus (Modern) - 58.1% smash

Sherri Martel - 63.1% smash

Top Men Overall

Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash

Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash

Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Hikuleo - 86.0% smash

Top Tag Teams

The Golden Lovers - 80.4% smash

Best Friends - 66.7% smash

Motor City Machine Guns - 65.5% smash

Young Bucks - 43.8% smash

Ink Inc. - 25% smash

Average Smash Rating

Week 1: 52.7% Week 2: 57.7% Week 3: 54.4% Week 4: 62.9% Week 5: 58.4% Week 6: 55.9% Week 7: 59.6% Week 8: 56.7% Week 9: 53.3% Week 10: 57.6% Week 11: 55.6% Week 12: 56.3%

Important housekeeping note: I'm changing the order in which I handle requests. Previously I was processing them chronologically (first in, first out), but I'm now prioritizing requests according to content. Please take a peek at my pinned post for more information.

I wonder how many of you would have voted "smash" for the Rock before last week. Like, just how much good will was erased in an instant? So far, events have interfered with poll results twice in the three months of this blog's existence (three months of the most insane wrestling news in the history of pro wrestling, tbh), and I'm contemplating running those polls again in a year or so if requests get slow and the events are behind us.

Our collective father Christian Cage has taken the top spot for total votes, with 582 people casting votes. He is No. 34 overall in terms of smashability by percent, but just due to the sheer number of votes cast, he received more smash votes (447) than anyone else. Like, the only people to receive more TOTAL votes than that are Punk (527), Hook (449), and Hangman (447). I was really hoping he'd pass the 600 vote mark, but not today.

Sami Zayn also joined the "Whole Lotta Votes" club with 435, putting him at No. 7 overall.

And now for some of my favorite tags and comments

@howlinghunters on Sami Zayn: #Listen I'm smashing but only if he lets me comb his beard

@pavlovean on Dijak: #seeing the results of this post felt like someone telling me they wouldn’t fuck my dad#like i’m kinda offended by it but it feels weird to be so offended by it#like i don’t want to fuck him but i love him so what’s wrong with you? think you’re too good for dadjak?

@rosabellebelieve on Dolph Ziggler: #but AM i allowed to pin him down and deep condition his hair? bc that man has been frying his hair for years

@mancewarner on AJ Lee: #praying for the day her and punk spot me across the bar and approach me saying they like my vibe

@lghockey on AJ Styles: "I cant smash a guy with white suburban soccer mom hair"

@unseenbox on Christian Cage: #He's not the step dad he's the dad who stepped up#Because ur fathers dead

@booboo-eyedbambi on Christian Cage: #my dad isnt dead but i can pretend he is for some dick

@rosabellebelieve on Christian Cage: #my dad died during this storyline so i feel like i have to join christians cult#yes you can use this tag even w my dead dad op 💜 I'm so sorry for your loss. I lost my dad a few years ago and have been making my friends uncomfortable by saying my mom could do worse than Christian

@wrestlefag on Christian Cage: #fine i'll do it. since adam copeland is so fucking complicated

#weekly wrap up

[retromania4ever]

BMW 7 Series (E32) 🇩🇪

Displacement: 2996 cc

Power: 188 HP @ 5800 RPM

Top Speed: 212 km/h (155 mph)

0-100 km/h: 11.3 s

#vintage car #antique car #automobile #supercar #old car #retrocar #old cars #BMW

[phoneycam]

The brainrot is winning

I'm having a strong soulmates phase and seeing that my codywan obssesion isn't going anywhere either... Let's get creative.

Soulmates AU: Everyone has life point/years left and people can people can give their soulmate their own life points/years.

So imagine!

It's the middle of the first year in the war. The 212 is send to a random planet to protect the people from the separatist atack and as always, it all goes to shit. The information is incorrect, the comms don't work properly and as a result, they are being rapidly overwhelmed. They fight for several days waiting for backup but while they wait, the provision keep running lower and lower. It get's to the point where people from the planet start helping with local medicine and shelter for the injured because there is no other options. Obviusly is in one of these desperate moments that it happens.

Everyone is tired; they've been fighting for days with no chance of a break and when one is tired, they make mistakes more easily. Obi-wan and Cody are aware of that and they do the best they can to allow rotations in the front long enough to get a break to the poor troopers, but it's almost impossible when there is less and less with each day.

Cody is in the front shooting to any droid that dares to come near his sight, his general on the other side of the fild protecting the troops only recognizable for the blue flashes that came through the heavy cloud of dust that seems to never disapear in this goddamn planet. Maybe is the lack of sleep and rations, maybe is the hyperfocuss that comes everytime his in the battlefield, maybe to many explotions have made his hearing weaker, either way, somehow a droid gets past his comfort zone and the alarmed shout of one of his brothers is the only thing that makes him realize his mistake.

They manage to bring down the droid but not before Cody get's shot a couple of times. He doesn't even notice it until he tries to go back to his original position to continue and he fucking collapses.

Obi-wan, on the other side, is making the best he can to not loose more clones, destroy every droid that crosses his way and ignore the force exsaustion. It's after defiting a massive tank with aparent flawless effort only to end up tripping with air that he admits defeat and let Bones drag him to one of the shelters.

inside the shelter you can find multiple clones in diverse states of pain and injuries, a mix of medics and locals running around with bacta patches, bends and many types of plants based balms. Obi-wan tries his best not to flinch with every clone he passes by, getting more and more distressed with every wave of pain his man shoves his way unintetionally with the force. By the time they sat him on an empty suplly box, he is so overwhelmed he doesn't react to anything untl he recognizes the clone stationed on his side.

"Cody!" he shouts unwittingly of the people around.

The commander is lying on a pile of age-corroded blankets, surrounded by diverse bowls full of leafy concoctions, without his top armor and covered with different leaves in several places. When Obi-wan cruches next to him, he gets to smell all the different balms and oils from the leaves, but also, underneath it all, he can sense the pains and struggles exuding from this man, how breathing is getting more labored with every second, how dangerusly warm the skin feels.

How close to death he is.

Obi-wans heart aches. There are not the supplies needed for his type of injuries and he is too tired to do anything to help his commander, the force barely helping him stay knelt by his side and this is enough to make his vision blurry. Barely a month ago he had managed to gain enough trust from this man to get his name and now here he lies... Obi-wan shakes his head refusing to drop tears for someone who wasn't gone. And will not be gone. If there is something he is known for is being stubborn and if he says his commander will live another day, then he will. If he says he has enough force energy to help Cody, he will have it.

Nodding decided to himself, Obi-wan grabs carefully with both trembling hands Codys arm and brings it close to him. He is about to take a deep breath when a shocked gasp leaves him breathless instead.

Something happens for a second, it feels like a zap of energy crossing his boddy and then there is nothing.

Obi-wan stays there for a couple minutes breathing heavily. Slowly he turns Codys arm around. There, he sees a number in the upper arm and is suddenly reminded of one of the deepest mysteries of the force. A choked sob leaves him involuntarily when another zap crosses his body and synchronously the number that had almost becomed 0 goes up again.

He doesn't even think about it before handing year after year. He knows that him himself had at least a hundred years on his counter and althoug it had been a long time since he checked it, he didn't care.

He stops when the number gets to 45 years.

Obi-wan takes a deep breath and open his eyes slowly, he doesn't remember closing them but he doesn't really care because the first thing he sees is his commander sleeping peacefully. He smiles and hesitates before releasing the arm. He takes some of the bowls and after verifying with the forse for danger, he aplies some over the number to cover it.

He hopes no one notices before Cody. That thought reminds him that he is in a very public place at the moment and he look around suddenly aware of his surroundings. Everybody is too rushed and preoccupied to even notice the miracle that just happened. A little bit of shame invades him at the thought that someone would be watching him in this kind of situation.

"General!" A troopers call startles him in the direction of the shout. He sees Waxer struggling with the amount of people running in different directions to get to him and the scene of him almost tripping makes him smile involuntarily.

"Waxer, how can i help you?" He asks when the poor trooper is finally by his side.

"Reinforcements are on their way, sir! We've recived a transmission from General Skywalker to be attentive of his arrival" Waxer responds barely holding himself of jumping happily while various troopers on earange start cheering.

"That's a wonderful new, that's honestly... a kriffing relieve..." Obi-wan release a relieved sigh that overlays the collective gasp of the troopers and starts to get up. "I'll go help some more before Anakin arrives, I'm feeling better either way" He says making his way outside the shelter and unaware of the several gapping clones he's left behind.

It takes three days to stop the separatist. Cody wakes up on the second day and only entertains Bones with a couple of tests from his 'miraculous' recovery before shaking of the dried leaves with some help of the locals and getting inmediately on his blacks and then his armour. He doesn't realize the soft gasp from the person cleaning his arm and then whispering to his friends when Cody basically escapes to the bettlefield followed by a frustrated Bones that insists he needs to atleast eat a ration bar.

When general and commander find eachother, there is too much going on the battle field to have a conversation, so after seeing one another from the distance and sharing a nod of acknowledgment they go back to the task in hands.

By the time they get to the Negotiator on the end of the third day, exhaustion, grief and hunger are the only things on their brains. They had lost so many and even though they wanted to do anything more than to fall asleep on the spot, they still needed to keep going until everybody else was ok.

"General!" Or at least that was the idea before Helix started walking menasingly towards them. "Bones told me to take you to medbay the moment i see you"

Obi-wan grimaces before sighing resigned. He turns around to see Cody already smiling at him with pity and some baddly hidden humor.

"Don't you think you are safe either commander" Helix remeinded Cody of his conditional release. "Go get yourself clean before making presense on the medbay. I've already noticed your absense to the rest so there is not escaping."

"And why can't I-"

"Because Cody smells like he decided to wallow on a garden and that's an allergy magnet if I've ever seeing one, better get that out of the way quick. You on the other side, I can see you favoring your right side"

"..."

"..."

When Cody arrives to the fresher he is not surprissed to find other troopers already using them, it's normal after a battle, so he just gets out of his armour and blacks and just waits for his turn. He can hear some troopers chatting on the side that he tunes out while he starts inspecting everyone for injuries. Most of them are not heavily injured, some bad scratches here and there but nothing life threatening. He hums to himself when he sees the number on one of the troopers.

Clones had this unspoken rule of never mentioning the soulmate counter. Most of them didn't even get to the second digit and every battle only reduced that number to the inevitable day. Finding their soulmate wasn't even something they could look upon, with most of the time spend in battle or traveling, weirdly interacting with other individuals and the ankward situation that all the being a clone implies.

"All yours commander!" the call from one of his brothers exiting the fresher brings him back to reality and shaking himself out of that path of thoughts he goes to the fresher.

The unavoidable happens when he is getting himself back on a new pair of blacks.

He is thinking of his batchmate Bly, one of the only lucky ones to have found the impossible, in non other than his general. He remember the hysteric call he recived at an unholy hour not even two days after his departure. The memorie makes him smile fondly and unconsciously he goes to see his own number.

45 years.

...

..

.

Eh?

#codywan #obiwan my beloved #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #cody my beloved #codywan au #soulmates #soulmates au #clone troopers #the clone wars #codywan fic #or at least the idea of one #i haven't revised this before publishing it #if you see an error #my bad yall #i just needed this out of my brain quickly #the brainrot is strong #send help

[raes-writing-space]

Yuji Itadori x Reader *Perfectionist Tendencies Comfort*

Warnings: Self-Doubt, a bit of self-deprecation, one mine swear word? Mentions of other jujutsu sorcerers dying. Not beta read.

Summary: You've been wanting to become an Jujutsu sorcerer and help people your whole life, but you hold yourself to a different standard. After making a tiny mistake (which does not feel tiny to you at all) you start to doubt that you'll ever be good enough. Yuji comforts the reader and tells them that we can't all be perfect all the time, that we need to forgive ourselves from time to time, and we can only strive to do our best.

Word Count: 1, 212

A/N: I don't think I made Yuji too ooc, but sorry if I did? To save scroll time it's under the "keep reading" line.

The frustration from the mission you were assigned with Megumi couldn't seem to leave you, even hours after the mission had finished. Things went by successfully, but you couldn't help but dwell on your actions and how you handled the situation. You miscalculated your cursed technique, the curse you were fighting suddenly gaining a sense of speed it didn't show before. You just nearly missed it, as the curse surged forward towards you and knocked you onto the ground faster than you could really process it. Luckily it hadn't decided to attack you, as Megumi had caught it's attention before it came to that. Megumi hadn't even thought about it, even after you apologized for how you handled things, he didn't understand your apology. He figured that these things happened all the time, and if you were the one to coax out another ability the curse had, it was better than finding out later when it was too late. Still, things could have been a lot worse, has Megumi not gotten it's attention, you could have gotten seriously injured, or hell, even killed. How were things going to be when you were up against a grade one cursed spirit? A simple miscalculation like the one you had could have much worse consequences, and a lot more than your own life at stake. Yuji could sense that something was wrong as the two of you had arrived back at Jujutsu High, but honestly, that's just how some missions went. It wasn't until Megumi had told him about how the mission went, that Yuji thought he should check up on you. When you heard a knock on your dormitory door, you honestly weren't sure who to expect. You even half-expected for it to be Gojo. So when you opened the door to see Yuji, you didn't know how you should greet him.

"Hey, I heard from Fushiguro about the mission. I just wanted to see how you were." Yuji greeted you with a soft smile.

You always appreciated how caring he was, it made him someone you could easily rely on. You shrugged at first, letting him come into your dorm to sit and hang out.

"How much did Fushiguro tell you?" "I mean, everything, I guess… But he mentioned you apologizing to him for how you handled the mission. I didn't really understand it, since the way he said it, I thought things went just fine." He explained.

You sighed, you wouldn't be surprised if Megumi downplayed the situation. From your point of view, things felt like they were messy. Maybe for Fushiguro the mission would be considered a breeze for him, but for you? Not so much. You knew that Fushiguro has been at Jujutsu High for a lot longer than you had, or at least knew more about curses and cursed energy than you were. But you weren't that far behind him, you worked hard to learn how to control and maintain your cursed technique. Yet, after today, you felt as if you might not have been working hard enough.

"The mission was a success, but I don't think that things went "just fine." I made a mistake, and we were luckily it wasn't worse." You told him honestly, Yuji's features showed that of concern and confusion in response.

"What happened?" He simply asked.

"I went to use my curse technique, and I… I missed. The curse was a lot faster than I thought, and it knocked me to the ground, but luckily Fushiguro was able to handle it before things got worse… But that's starting to sound like the typical thing that happens when we're paired up on missions."

"Fushiguro told me that you did hit it though, that you scratched it's arm." Yuji spoke of the perspective he had heard.

You didn't know you managed to scratch the curse but that still didn't make you feel any better about the situation, "Even if I did, that's not what was supposed to happen. I should be better at this by now, I've been wanting to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer for a long time, and now that I'm here, I can't afford to just miss!"

Yuji could tell how frustrated you were, he knew that it wasn't just about this particular mission, that this might have been one of many missions that all happened the same way.

"What if I just don't have what it takes?" You questioned out loud, it wasn't exactly what you meant to say out loud. But if you thought anyone could understand what you may be going through, it would be Yuji.

"Hey, don't say that!" Yuji couldn't help but feel defensive for you, even if it was your own words. "Not everything happens the way we want it to. We can try and predict what could happen and adapt but it's not like we'll always be right. Even when the curse did something you didn't expect at all, you still managed to hit the curse, didn't you? That sounds pretty impressive to me." Yuji tried his best to reassure you in some way.

You shrugged at first, "But what happens when I have to fight higher grade curses? What if I don't even have someone else to help me?"

"Then you just do your best."

"What if my best isn't good enough?" You continued to question, and Yuji paused for a second before replying.

"Then that was still your best. Do you think the sorcerer's who die on missions weren't giving it their best? Everyone's best is different, and it might look different on different says or different situations, and it might look different compared to others, but you're still doing your best. That's all we really can do. You can't expect things to be perfect, or else it would be too easy." Yuji answered after a moment, which made you pause as you took in what he was saying.

Yuji had a point, there were so many sorcerers that give it their all, and sometimes still just aren't that lucky. While it's sad to think about their deaths, you thought it would be rude to discredit them when they gave their entire lives to protect others. How would you be any different in that instance? How would you learn to grow and get better without a bit of a challenge?

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point…" You spoke, really thinking about his words further.

It didn't fix things immediately, but it at least did give you a new perspective on things. Maybe you could at least give yourself a little bit more forgiveness. All you really could do is try your best every day, and try and do better.

"Really? Oh man, I was really hoping that made sense." Yuji let out a sigh of relief, making you smile at how could be so wise and at the same time kind of clueless.

"Don't worry, it did…"

Yuji had stood up, stretching and heading back to your dormitory door to leave you be. You followed him so that you could properly send him off.

"Thanks for checking up on me, Yuji." "Of course, you can count on me." He smiled brightly at you, before turning to leave with a wave of his hand.

#jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori #jjk x reader #Comfort Character Comfort Prompts

[stellar-mouse]

~☆Honey Cappuccino☆~

376 words. Flutterbee Coffee shop au/Non mira au >w<!! Florence and Beatrice are my headcanons for Fluttermouse and Honeybee's names. hope u enjoyyyy!!!!

Florence was, to be frank, exhausted. She had just worked a seven hour graveyard shift and was trudging her way back to her apartment a few blocks away. The space behind her eyes stung with the drive to sleep. She wanted coffee.

Thankfully for her, there was a glowing sign reading "OPEN" on the coffee shop just across the avenue. There was a yellow and orange striped overhang and in the window hung a sign that read "Honeybee Coffee." Florence felt her stomach grumble; maybe she should have something to eat too...

She was surprised to see a coffee shop open this late, but she was grateful as she cautiously crossed the empty street. The door opened with a chime of a bell and the woman at the counter lifted her head from the book she was reading.

"Oh, hello!"

Florence's pulse jumped and sputtered. Standing behind the counter was the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen in her life. Dark skin and blonde braids that flowed down her back to her waist. Dark beads decorated her hair and her eyes shone a light shade of golden brown. Like honey.

"H-hi."

"What can I get you?"

"Uh- um..." Florence's gaze trailed away from the beautiful girl to the drink menu behind her and she said the first thing she read. "A honey cappuccino, please? Large."

"Sure thing," the woman said with a wink, "and your name?"

Florence's heart skipped once more, "wh-what?"

"For the drink?"

"O-oh. Florence."

The woman smiled up at her as she scribbled on the cup for what seemed like a bit too long. "Pretty name."

Florence could feel a flush creeping up her neck. "Th-thanks."

Her eyes followed the blonde as she gracefully flowed through the motions of creating the drink until it finally made its way into Florence's hands.

"Honey cappuccino for Florence?"

Florence smiled at her, "thanks."

She handed over the money and dropped the change into the tip jar before scurrying back out the door with another squeak of a "Thanks!"

It wasn't until she was halfway down the block that she looked down at the writing on the cup, her name wasn't there. Instead, what it said was:

212-XXX-XXXX -Beatrice. Call me ;)

Florence would definitely be calling.

#back to posting at last! feeling better now #stellartext #stellarfics #mlb irl #Flutterbee