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#Michelangelo Foundation
craft2eu · 4 months
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Homo Faber NextGen -Programme für Studierende und Absolventen des Handwerks: Bewerbt Euch!
Homo Faber NextGen bietet zwei Programme an, die darauf abzielen, das Handwerk kulturell, wirtschaftlich und gesellschaftlich für die nächsten Generationen relevant zu machen. Die Programme richten sich an Studierende und Absolventen des Handwerks und schließen die Lücke zwischen den Meistern von heute und den Handwerkern von morgen, um die Zukunft des Handwerks zu sichern. Das Young Ambassadors…
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mochiimadness · 4 months
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I wonder what it would be like for Splinter if he fell in love? This isn't an xreader thing, for obvious reasons. It's just a scenario I haven't really seen explored for his character, and I'm curious how you'd portray it.
Hello! I wasn’t sure which version of Splinter you wanted, so I did both! Also, I could write a splinter x reader if someone requested it (not sure what you meant by 'obvious reasons' /lh), I did not make this one a splinter x reader tho ^^
2012 Splinter
Oh Hamato Yoshi, a man of so little yet so many words-
It takes him a bit to actually fall in love
He is hesitant about pursuing another romantic relationship
Is genuinely traumatized from his last one
Rightfully so, he saw his wife die, daughter as well (or so he thought for years) all at the hands of someone he onced called his brother- only to get mutated soon after.
Yeah… not a very good experience…
But when he falls, he is absolutely devoted to his person
He is very formal, approaching his crush in a gentlemanly manner
Is kinda old fashioned
The type to bring flowers and open doors for his partner
When he was with Tang Shen, he ended up losing sight of what was important
And became very distant and dismissive
He knows better now, and makes sure to go out of his way to pay attention
He does still struggle though,
Often choosing to meditate over quality time
As his relationship grows, however, he becomes better at being present.
Makes sure to set time aside for his partner
He doesn’t mind doing whatever, but he does prefer quieter activities-
A drama show perhaps, or drinking tea together.
As he becomes more relaxed in his relationship-
His playful side emerges
And surprisingly- he can be very goofy
I mean- he has a cheese phone in a glass case. He chose that. It’s meant for serious emergencies- you can’t tell me he wasn’t making a joke about his current mutation.
He tells dad jokes- really corny ones too
And his laugh is a full-on belly laugh where he throws his head back
He enjoys making his beloved laugh,
Will sometimes even ask Michelangelo for any new jokes to tell!
Overall, he's very sweet, goofy and old-fashioned with his partner,
He is also incredibly protective- perhaps a bit over protective
But considering the fact that he and his family are being hunted down by the man who killed his last wife-
His over protectiveness is warranted.
Does NOT take chances- if his beloved is captured, he is going there and demolishing anyone who gets in his way.
Makes sure his beloved is okay, before taking them home to curl up and watch some old drama show
Cheese-sicles included.
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Rise Splinter
This may or may not come as a surprise-
But I honestly think it takes him a while to truly fall in love with someone
I feel like he has some trust issues
Definitely has high walls when it comes to relationships
Being a popular celebrity back in day taught him a thing or two about letting people get too close
Most people were usually only after him for his fame and fortune-
Looking to use him to rise to the top themselves
So he made sure to keep a decent distance
Until Big Mama of course
Which only made his trust issues 100x worse.
If he were to fall in love again, it would only be after a long time
There needs to be a very strong, and very solid foundation of trust
He would like to avoid being locked up and forced to fight to the death again, thank you very much.
On top of his trust issues-
He has major abandonment issues
If he ever went through with trying to have another relationship,
There would need to be a lot of communication-
Lots of working on and assuring him that his partner isn’t going anywhere.
As for his behavior??
He’s very avoidant in a rather outgoing way
It’s kinda weird to witness actually
The second he realizes he actually has romantic feelings for someone- he’s panicking
Tries to avoid them but also makes sure to be nice
He’s nowhere in sight whenever his crush is around but if they happen to catch him?
He’s chatting up a storm, sitting them down for a cup of tea or some food
Casually handing them a slice of pizza and once their attention is on it
Poof- vanished from sight once they turn around.
Once he starts actually giving a relationship a try though??
Man is whipped with a capital W
THE BIGGEST SIMP EVER
Quality time??? Physical touch???? GIFT GIVING??!?!?!!
His crush is getting it all
Quality time is an absolute must, he always wants to be around them no matter what it is they’re doing.
Knitting? He’s there.
2am snacks?? He already has their favorite
Movie time???? He made sure his projector is completely repaired AND made the couch the comfiest spot ever.
Loves to cuddle and hold hands, generally likes to be in contact with his beloved in anyway he can
Will even wrap his tail around one of their limbs if his hands are full
*cough* or if he’s too lazy to move from his comfy position *cough*
And on top of that?? He actually has decent money from his time as Lou Jitsu
He can and will have his sons help him figure out online ordering.
His beloved is getting any and everything they want
Only the best for them, he makes sure to buy top quality items
A lot of the gifts are an eyesore to look at though- his personal taste is…. intense…
Thankfully, his family helps him out.
Overall a very attentive, but clingy, partner
Will proudly boast about his beloved to anyone who asks (or doesn’t)
Has one of those wallets with the long long photo strips
He shoves them in everyone’s faces
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I hope you enjoyed!! Apologies for the long wait;;
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vermutandherring · 7 months
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Official U.S. PlayStation Magazine - Issue 95 - August 2005. Source: Internet Archive
Today, 24 of October, came out (or rather were re-released) classic Metal Gear games, starting with the very first games in the series. It doesn't matter either Konami did it to get more money, or to engage more players into the series, alongside with the news about MGS remake.
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Personally, I see this as a good gesture of respect for one's heritage and an example for other developers to show that there is still a place for classic works in the world of modern videogames. After all, a classic will always be a classic.
What surprises me are the comments of some reviewers, the essence of which is that the games have not been improved or modified, but only optimized for modern operating systems. A rather strange remark, in my opinion. After all, when you visit a museum, you don't expect to see a polished Rembrandt or an 'improved' Michelangelo. You want to see with your own eyes what has been the crown of human genius for several centuries in a row. You want to see a unique original, because you can always order an lame copy on the Internet. In this regard, I agree with the Richard Wakeling' words in his article on Gamespot:
"More than anything, revisiting the series' humble beginnings essentially functions as a virtual museum, providing you with a fascinating look at how familiar elements began and then evolved as Metal Gear made the monumental shift to 3D. Both games--particularly Metal Gear 2--feel like blueprints for what was to come, establishing the foundations for Metal Gear Solid and stealth-action video games as a whole. Codec conversations, alert statuses, enemy-identifying radar, and gameplay concepts such as crawling through vents and using sound to draw the enemy's attention were all part of the series' roots over 33 years ago. Even if you have no interest in seeing either game through to completion, it's worth at least giving them a try to see where Metal Gear got its start."
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Ukraine is out of party again (at least on Konami' official page), but I'd say we are used to it
At a time when so-called WWIII is not just outside the door, but on your doorstep, the content of Metal Gear is more relevant than ever. And now, thanks to the re-release of the first MG games, it is possible to trace how the games have turned from silly, pointless shooters into complex philosophical works capable of telling complex stories.
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babiestbubbles · 1 year
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I found this in my drafts this morning so here you go, let me know if you want me to finish it!
Softness in the Strangest of Places
Mikey woke up feeling small, really small. So small he didn’t think he could make it off the bed if he tried to stand up. So, he stayed in bed for a while, attempting to will himself big enough to at least brush his teeth. To his credit, he managed to make it to the bathroom, brush his teeth, and make it all the way back to his room before he collapsed back on his bed.
Last night was… rough to say the least. 
He’d been reckless, he knew he had been, but it was a spur of the moment type of thing. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, worst case scenario he’d end up with a couple extra scrapes or scratches. 
Except that in jumping headfirst into a fight he’d unintentionally dragged his brothers into danger too. It was never his intention, he swears. He’d rather deal with a thousand punches than see any of them receive a single one. But intentions aside, he endangered them, if it wasn’t for Raph, Donnie would’ve ended up with a concussion from falling off a roof, and Leo narrowly avoided fracturing his wrist from all of the impact it received from fist fighting. He wasn’t trained for long bouts of it, having to rely on his foundational training from childhood since he now trains consistently with his swords.
None of them were prepared for a fight, weapons abandoned at home in favor of a casual visit to topside. Mikey knew that, and he’d still started a fight. 
He walked home head hung in shame, taking deep heavy breaths as guilt and remorse clawed at his chest from the inside out, caged only by his ribs and fear of breaking down in front of his brothers.
Things got worse when they got home. He had to work so hard to keep up a good poker face while being lectured by Splinter, painfully aware that he’d just get in more trouble for crying. 
His dad’s words clung to his brain, branching out into harsher remarks. “You were irresponsible and childish. This behavior will not be tolerated anymore Michelangelo. ” slowly morphed into, “You are useless and pathetic. This was your last chance and you still managed to slip up.” Distress, fear, and sadness clouding his better judgment.
By the time that it was over, he’d lost track of anything other than his own misery and the burning sting of his father’s words. He walked shakily out of the living room, fighting every urge in his body to sprint to the safety of his bedroom.
The second the door shut and he was safe in his room, he fell into littlespace, hard. He was still a bit big, somewhere between 3 and 5, but lines get blurry when you’re on the verge of tears. Luckily he was still big enough that he had the sense to secure his room. He shuffled to the door, locking it, and pretending that the lock would magically make his room soundproof. 
He sprinted back to the softness of his blankets, jumping onto his bed, but the minute his body touched the mattress, the tears that had been pooling since he walked in, finally began to fall. He sobbed into his pillow, clutching his stuffed bunny close and letting it all out. 
His mind continued to swirl with thoughts, the words from earlier still fresh and metaphorical wounds they caused still aching.
How could he be so terrible? They probably never wanted to see him again. His brothers probably hated him, the only reason Splinter hasn’t gotten rid of him is because he’s spent 13 years training Mikey and it would be a waste. That was it. Mhm, Splinter didn’t love him at all actually. No one did. All he ever does is mess things up and cause accidents and be unhelpful. Mhm. Yeah. 
The poor turtle was so caught up in his feelings, and headspace, that all logic had gone out the window and he fully believed that his family no longer loved him because he’d made a mistake and gotten a lecture from his dad along with some glares from his brothers.
Mikey cried and cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, and not even ten minutes later, he was asleep. Entirely exhausted from the emotional and physical stress he’d just gone through.
And now he’d woken up cemented even deeper in littlespace, and he had no idea what to do. A part of him still believes that everyone is mad at him, that they don’t want to see him more than they have to, so he stays put. Deciding that it’s not worth the energy. He lays back down, snuggling his bunny and hoping that he could spend the day in his safe space, unbothered and a little bit sad.
Tragically, he has no such luck and less than thirty minutes later, Donnie comes looking for him. “Mikey?” he calls, his voice a bit sing-songy as he tries the door, pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Mikey knew he had forgotten something when he crawled back to bed after brushing his teeth.
Mikey can only look upwards and stare wide eyed at his older brother. Tears already beginning to form as he remembers everything that’s happened and emotions start creeping their way back. 
“Angelo?” Donnie asks, concern lacing his voice when his brother makes no move to greet him
Gentle distress floods his veins as Mikey makes an attempt to break his accidental vow of silence but finds the words stuck in his throat, leaving him sitting on his bed with his mouth hanging open as he tries a second, then third, time to speak. 
Through his mild panic the box turtle vaguely registers Donnie asking him what’s wrong and is suddenly struck with a genius idea. 
He sits upright, making sure he’s facing his brother and has his full attention, as he begins carefully lifting up his arms. He holds them in the air at chest level for a second before bringing his two palms closer together and hunching himself inward, effectively signing “Little” or “Small” in ASL.
It takes Donnie’s mind a moment to realize what’s happening, but his face softens as understanding washes over him. 
He slips into his role of caregiver almost immediately, his entire demeanor changing in seconds, and finds himself snuggling closer to his little brother, as he begins asking questions.
The first one is simple, “So I’m guessing you can’t talk, huh?” 
A nod is all it takes to get his brain going, running through all the various forms of nonverbal communication he knows.
He’s aware that Mikey only knows the bare minimum when it comes to ASL, so that’s off the table, but it reminds him that sometimes the simplest solution is also the best. “Can you type?” he asks softly, taking care to add a soft and suggesting tone to his voice so that Mikey doesn’t feel bad if he can’t. When his brother signs back “Don’t know” he pulls out his phone, handing it to the smaller. 
‘kinda can’ is all he manages but it’s more than enough for Donnie, whose face lights up in encouragement.
“There you go!” he happily remarks, before continuing his impromptu questionnaire. “Do you know why you can’t talk?” 
‘M rely tiny, jusa babie’  (Donnie Translation: I’m really tiny, just a baby)
Donnie can’t fight the urge to coo at his brother, “Aww, I’ve got a tiny little guy on my hands, huh?” he says in an overly sweet voice that somehow makes Mikey feel even smaller than before. 
Amidst his contemplation of the next question to ask, it clicks for Donnie that his brother is almost never this small. Hence the need for so many questions. The last time he was this small he’d gotten into a really bad argument with Splinter and- 
oh
Donnie can’t help the way face falls for a moment as he realizes why his brother has regressed so young. 
The question flies out of his mouth before he can even think about it
"Are you this tiny because of what happened last night?"
and Donnie has never been filled with such immediate regret as he watches his brother's face crumple.
Mikey's suddenly reminded of why Donnie was in here in the first place as the tears find their way to his eyes for the third time. Once they start falling, they can't seem to stop, streaming down his face chased only by hiccuping sobs.
Donnie’s on in him in an instant, wrapping him in a tight hug as he begins to soothe. 
"No, hey. Hey, it's alright. Donnie’s got you. I know it last night was a lot, I'm here I've got you. No one's upset with you, I promise. We know it was a mistake, I promise we don't hate you."
He states, knowing Mikey well enough to know exactly what was going on in his head right now.
Big or little, Mikey’s always scared that his mistakes are the end of the world, and it breaks Donnie's heart every single time.
He continues to hold his brother, a stream of soft “It's okay.”, “You're okay.”, and “I'm here”s  continuing to pour from his mouth. 
He tries rubbing small circles on the younger's shell but stops abruptly when he feels him pull away.
As the minutes pass, Donnie hears the harsh sobs fade to gentle sniffles as Mikey calms down a bit, nuzzling Donnies chest a bit as he tries to snuggle impossibly closer to his older brother.
It takes a few more minutes of sniffles for Donnie to try rubbing Mikey’s back again, but this time he leans into the touch, exhausted and desperate for reassurance. “There we go” he sighs as he feels Mikey melt into his arms, “Deep breaths, I’ve got you. Donnie’s got you.” 
Donnie’s never been a big fan of touch, but his little, scratch that baby brother, was always an exception. 
As Mikey leans back to look up at him, Donnie breaks out in a soft smile, “Hi sweetheart. Are you feeling any better? I’m so sorry I upset you like that, I promise I didn’t mean to. Do you think you can forgive me?” The question is asked in earnest, but Donnie knows the baby in his arms is far too tired and vulnerable to say anything but “Yes”, so he mentally files a reminder to apologize to his brother again when he’s bigger.
The small boy just nods shyly, looking back down with a droopy, almost shameful, look. Donnie recognizes it almost immediately. “Hey, hey, None of that! I’m not upset with you for crying. I could never be upset with you for expressing your emotions, especially when regressed. It’s fine, I promise. You’re such a good boy Mikey. My sweet baby brother.”
Mikey’s head continues to dip, though this time with a bashful smile rather than a shameful frown, and Donnie nearly beams at the sight. 
“Alright! With all that crying, I think it’s time we get you a drink and something to eat. What do you say bud?” Mikey nods cautiously in response, still on edge from all the crying, and just generally sensitive because of how heavily regressed he is. “Can you walk?” he asks tentatively, caregiver mode being increased tenfold now that he knows just how baby his brother was. 
He sighs at the sorrowful head shake he gets, but is quick to clarify he’s not upset at Mikey for being unable to walk, but simply hadn’t thought ahead about what to do in the event he wasn’t able to. 
Donnie goes back to rubbing soft circles on Mikey's back as he messages Raph and Leo a quick, “Code Baby, meet me in Mikey’s room.”
Of course, they’re there in an instant; Leo instinctively running up to the bed and reaching for Mikey’s hand to drag him up and out of the room before Donnie gives them a panicked “Hold on!” 
With a solemn look, he attempts to explain things as rapidly as possible…without upsetting Mikey. Which proves to be more than a bit of a challenge.
“Remember what happened last night with Mikey, the lecture he got from Splinter and-” he sneaks a quick look at Mikey, relieved to find him too busy playing with his newfound toy [Read: Leo’s hand] to pay attention to the discussion at hand, “the way he looked like he was holding back tears for most of it?” The second half is almost a whisper, Donnie treading carefully after earlier events. 
Raph and Leo’s faces immediately drop, excitement, about Mikey being little, shifting to worry for their youngest brother. Donnie quickly goes on, wanting to avoid putting his brothers through unnecessary anxiety. “Apparently some time between when he ran to his room last night and now, he regressed. And he regressed hard. He seems to be stuck in babyspace, and can neither talk nor walk ”
Both of their faces soften in understanding as everything, even their posture and stances, shift into caregiver mode alongside Donnie. They’d entered the room expecting a roughhouse filled playdate with an 8 year old Mikey, but now they were more than happy to dote upon their baby bound brother.
There’s also an unspoken twinge of pity, even sadness, lurking in the eyes of all three, that no one bothers to acknowledge. However Donnie decides to err on the side of caution and slips in an added, “I’m not sure if it’s what caused him to regress so hard or if it’s because he’s so tiny, but he’s super sensitive right now guys, so we’ve got to be extra careful how we handle him.” Raph quirks an eyebrow and Leo opens his mouth to retort before Donnie warns, “I sighed when he told me he couldn't walk and had to spend the next 5 minutes convincing him I wasn’t upset with him because of it.” which quickly shuts down any suspicion. 
The attention shifts back to Mikey as he squirms in Donnie’s lap, trying to reach Donnie’s phone but clearly unable. When it’s handed to him, he’s quick to type out a barely decipherable message about breakfast that kicks everyone into gear. 
Raph scoops him up, carrying his bridal style to the kitchen, and though he’s been held like this a thousand times, it still manages to make Mikey feel impossibly smaller. He babbles happily on the trip to the kitchen, clearly excited to be in his big brother’s arms and absolutely glowing under all of the attention. Donnie’s leading the way with smooth determined strides as he uses his gauntlet to run through an index of all the food in their household and organizing it into “Baby Friendly”, “Potentially Baby Friendly”, and “Are you trying to Kill the Baby?”
Leo trails quite a ways behind the other two, having run back to grab a pacifier and teether for Mikey, as well as his favorite Frog Stuffie. Just in case.
It only takes a few minutes for him to catch up with the others in the kitchen, where Donnie is already running around playing scavenger hunt with different ingredients. Meanwhile, Raph is attempting, to no avail, to pry Mikey off of him and set the boy onto a chair, a bowl of cubed watermelon sitting on the counter beside them. As much as he’d love to spectate Donnie’s goose chase for baby food, Leo figures Raph could use the help, so he makes his way over. 
“Mikey! Hey buddy,”  Leo coos.
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icarus-suraki · 9 months
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No, you know what? While I'm all fired up about modern art and outsider art, let me introduce you to the works of James Hampton.
Pictured above is his monumental Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations' Millennium General Assembly.
With scant education and no formal art education, James Hampton made these pieces out of his intense religious fervor and his own desire to create:
In 1950, Hampton rented a garage on 7th street in northwest Washington [DC]. Over the next 14 years, Hampton built a complex work of religious art inside the garage with various scavenged materials such as aluminum and gold foil, old furniture, pieces of cardboard, light bulbs, jelly jars, shards of mirror and desk blotters held together with tacks, glue, pins and tape. The complete work consists of 180 objects, many of them inscribed with quotes from the Book of Revelation. The centerpiece of the exhibit is a throne, seven feet tall, built on the foundation of an old maroon-cushioned armchair with the words "Fear Not" at its crest. The throne is flanked by dozens of altars, crowns, lecterns, tablets and winged pulpits. Wall plaques on the left bear the name of apostles and those on the right list various biblical patriarchs and prophets such as Abraham and Ezekiel. The text The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations' Millennium General Assembly was written on the objects in Hampton's handwriting.
He constructed all his pieces from materials he found or scavenged himself, "such as aluminum and gold foil, old furniture, pieces of cardboard, light bulbs, jelly jars, shards of mirror and desk blotters held together with tacks, glue, pins and tape."
It's not clear if Hampton himself regarded himself as an artist, a visionary, a prophet, or none of the above. His work, however, is regarded as art in the same way that Michelangelo's Pieta is regarded as art: art of a religious subject or concept.
He also "kept a 108-page loose-leaf notebook titled St James: The Book of the 7 Dispensation. Most of the text was written in an unknown script that remains undeciphered. ... Some of the text was accompanied by notes in English in Hampton's handwriting. In the notebook, Hampton referred to himself as St. James with the title 'Director, Special Projects for the State of Eternity' and ended each page with the word 'Revelation'."
The art was not discovered until after Hampton's death in 1964, when the owner of the garage, Meyer Wertlieb, came to find out why the rent had not been paid. He knew that Hampton had been building something in the garage. When he opened the door, he found a room filled with the artwork. Hampton had kept his project secret from most of his friends and family. His relatives first heard about it when his sister came to claim his body. When Hampton's sister refused to take the artwork, the landlord placed an advertisement in local newspapers. Ed Kelly, a sculptor, answered the advertisement and was so astounded by the exhibit, he contacted art collector Alice Denney. Denney brought art dealers Leo Castelli and Ivan Karp, and artist Robert Rauschenberg, to see the exhibit in the garage. Harry Lowe, the assistant director of the Smithsonian Art Museum, told the Washington Post that walking into the garage "was like opening Tut's tomb."
His work is now on display at the Smithsonian American Art Museum.
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Henry despises Alex.
Alex knows that. It's like a fact of the universe. Water is wet, and Alex and Henry don't get along.
So, Alex can't understand why Henry's shoulder is brushing against his. He's not even shoulder-checking him. Then again, all of Henry's ancestors would probably collectively rise from the dead if he debased himself to such behavior. Alex begins to think he might be going a little insane, because they're just...standing next to each other. It shouldn't be a big deal but somehow this feels like touching Michelangelo's David.
Bizarre. Extremely prohibited. Exhilarating.
Alex wonders if this is what they've turned into: a cheeky little game of spite where they toe the line between one another. Shoulder to shoulder when they stand next to each other. Handshakes that are a second or two longer than necessary. Brushing nonexistent dust or dog hair off a suit jacket shoulder.
Alex watches Henry for any micro response. The way his breath stops, surprised. Whether he looks at Alex or anywhere else. Sometimes, the reactions are not so small, or maybe Alex is just paying attention now.
Alex sat next to Henry and pressed his leg alongside Henry's. The latter dropped his pen so spectacularly, it rolled down the bend of Henry's thumb like a roller coaster track, and then across the table.
"Whoops," he said, perfectly mannered, discrete, and apologetic as he reached for the pen. "Excuse me."
Alex is pretty sure Henry's ready to stab him with the pen...but he doesn't move his leg. He also doesn't take notes during the meeting. Alex peeks at him from the side, and is pretty sure Henry's not listening to a single word being said.
As if feeling the touch of his gaze, Henry's eyes find Alex's. It feels like the Check in a chess game. Because Alex is trapped. He has to make a move to survive, to keep the game going. And as Henry holds his gaze, Alex realizes with a depth of clarity that rocks his foundation, that he wants the game to keep going.
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whoreforhorror · 2 years
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Can i request Hannibal with a reader that works for the SCP foundation and their job is to hunt down dangerous SCP’s and capture/kill them?
(If you aren’t familiar with SCP’s they are basically just monsters that break the laws of physics lol)
I’M SO HAPPY YOU REQUESTED THIS!!! I love love love the SCP Foundation and all of the lore! So to combine one of my favorite characters AND one of my favorite universes????? Heaven. I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Anyways, I really hope that you like this and it fits what you were asking for! Thank you so much for requesting and feel free to ask for something at any time!
Hannibal with and S/O who works as a field agent for the SCP Foundation
Hannibal wouldn’t know exactly what it was you did for a long time. The SCP foundation takes its secrecy seriously, and you know it. For a very, very long while, all Hannibal knows is that you're a type of bounty hunter for a very large, powerful organization. He respects your privacy. Sort of. He’s not going to continually ask you directly for details about your work but he’s going to get every piece of information he can from other methods.
You’re going to come home injured often, and he’s going to be increasingly concerned. He insists on wrapping and bandaging everything, regardless of whether or not you can do it yourself. He’ll give you massages if you need them and will prepare a bath for you (with oils, salts, and candles) at least once a week. 
If you’ve been gone several days or even weeks on end, he’ll plan a large and elaborate meal because he knows you won’t have had the chance to eat properly. He’ll take into consideration your favorite foods and what he makes the best. You’re in for one of the best meals of your life… every time.
He really does care about you and having to patch you up several times a week, combined with his vague knowledge of your job will push him to try and get you to quit. He makes so much money on his own and you could live in the lap of luxury without having to work another day in your life. Of course, quitting any job in the foundation isn’t as simple as turning in a two weeks notice, so you couldn’t take him up on the offer if you wanted.
He found out the full of your job when you had an overlapping case. Hannibal and Will were working on catching a new killer, but the case made little sense when trying to connect it back to a person. The mannerisms of the killer are strange and the animalistic brutality is unmatched. The foundation got involved, and they decided that Hannibal could be useful. They let him know just enough to understand that they weren’t looking for an ordinary person. 
The foundation had you working with Hannibal directly and he was infatuated with watching you in your element. He had only seen you in domestic life and the aftermath of your work at the end of the day, but to see you on the job and so focused was like watching Michelangelo create his newest masterpiece. He’d watch you every moment he got, memorizing every detail that he could.
After the case was closed and the newest SCP was caught, Hannibal wasn’t much more comfortable with your job in general but he was a bit more content knowing what you were hunting. Now is when he’d lay on the tactics to find out more about different SCPs that you’ve hunted and interacted with. After getting a peak behind the curtains, he wants to see the whole picture. 
He’ll draw different SCPs if you’ll describe them to him. He’d dedicate an entire sketch pad to both you in uniform and the creatures you tell him about. He thinks you’re so incredibly hot in your gear. His soldier, protecting him and the world and still coming home to him in every free moment. His personal hero. The SCPs are cool too, of course. (Being honest, it’s basically a sketch pad filled with drawings of you at work with a couple of SCP drawings in there as well.)
He might try to sweet-talk you and the higher personnel to be able to interact with or at least read the SCP files. It’s more than likely, with his high professional and socialite status, that he could find a member of the 05 council if he really put his mind to it. He’s a very smart man on a mission and he will get what he wants.
He’ll also be able to help maintain your mental health after knowing a bit of what you go through. The SCP Foundation is punishing on the mind at the best of times, especially for a field agent, so it’s not like you don’t need his help. Really, having access to your own private therapist might just make you one of the most mentally stable people on the foundation payroll.
Also, you’re going to have to be in shape to hunt these SCPs and he is so willing to watch you work out. It’s a guilty pleasure of his and he’s not going to say just how much he likes to see your muscles at work, but he’s not going to be able to be very subtle about it. Give him an extra flex now and again, as a little treat of course.
If you ever get severely injured while on the job, he’s going to demand that you leave work at least until he deems you fully healed. He’ll pull every string if he has to and will find every member of the 05 council if he must. You are the most important thing in the world to him and he won’t risk losing you. He’ll also double down on trying to get you to quit, using just about every tactic in the book. 
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fromkenari · 8 months
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Waterloo Letters #4 (3/4): Hometown stuff
Here’s an idea: Do you know, I’ve realised I’ve never actually told you what I thought the first time we met? You see, for me, memories are difficult. Very often, they hurt. A curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back upon because of the absence there, that suddenly they’re inaccessible. You must invent an entirely new system. I started to think of myself and my life and my whole lifetime worth of memories as all the dark, dusty rooms of Buckingham Palace. I took the night Bea left rehab and I begged her to take it seriously, and I put it in a room with pink peonies on the wallpaper and a golden harp in the center of the floor. I took my first time, with one of my brother’s mates from uni when I was seventeen, and I found the smallest, most cramped little broom cupboard I could muster, and I shoved it in. I took my father’s last night, the way his face went slack, the smell of his hands, the fever, the waiting and waiting and terrible waiting and the even worse not-waiting anymore, and I found the biggest room, a ballroom, wide open and dark, windows drawn and covered. Locked the doors. But the first time I saw you. Rio. I took that down to the gardens. I pressed it into the leaves of a silver maple and recited it to the Waterloo Vase. It didn’t fit in any rooms. You were talking with Nora and June, happy and animated and fully alive, a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access, and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You weren’t evena president’s son yet, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen, and I had better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire. And then I was a careless fool, and I fell in love with you anyway. When you rang me at truly shocking hours of the night, I loved you. When you kissed me in disgusting public toilets and pouted in hotel bars and made me happy in ways in which it had never even occurred to me that a mangled-up, locked-up person like me could be happy, I loved you. And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it? Sometimes, even now, I still can’t. I’m sorry things didn’t go better with Philip. I wish I could send hope. Yours, Henry P.S. From Michelangelo to Tommaso Cavalieri, 1533: I know well that, at this hour, I could as easily forget your name as the food by which I live; nay, it were easier to forget the food, which only nourishes my body miserably, than your name, which nourishes both body and soul, filling the one and the other with such sweetness that neither weariness nor fear of death is felt by me while memory preserves you to my mind. Think, if the eyes could also enjoy their portion, in what condition I should find myself.
McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 298-301). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
1 | 2 | 4
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Michelangelo Signorile at The Signorile Report:
Yesterday, as the sensational corporate media continued to focus on campus protests, Republicans pushed through another piece of political theater in the House, the Antisemitism Awareness Act. While there has been some unacceptable antisemitic rhetoric reported at protests, often from opportunistic haters who are not students—just as there has been anti-Muslim rhetoric from some people mingled among pro-Israel counter-protesters, though it gets less reported on—the vast majority of the campus protests across the country have been civil and peaceful, and a great many of the protestors standing up for Palestinians are Jewish students themselves.
The bill that passed in Congress is a sham, as it conflates being against Israel’s leaders’ actions and its policies with being antisemitic. Democratic Congressman Jerry Nadler of New York—my representative, who is Jewish—voted against the bill, saying it would put the "thumb on the scale" in a way that could "chill" constitutionally protected free speech. The worst part of this theater is that the Republicans who spearheaded the bill, like New York’s Mike Lawler, and those like New York’s Rep. Elise Stefanik, who are attacking university presidents they claim are condoning antisemitism (all part of the GOP attack on higher education and diversity, equity, and inclusion programs), have embraced in their votes and/or their rhetoric white supremacist Great Replacement theory as they rail against policies at the border. The antisemitic, racist conspiracy theory, which, as the American Jewish Committee describes it, posits that there is “an intentional effort, led by Jews, to promote mass non-white immigration”—an “invasion”—has gone from the fringes of the racist far right to the heart of the GOP in Congress, as Republican politicians openly claim an “invasion” of migrants (Brown and Black people) is occurring, fomented by Democrats, to “replace” (White) Americans. 
[...] Trump this week also attacked the protests as antisemitic—and said Biden has abandoned Jews and Israel—while he claimed several times this week and last week that the campus protests make the white supremacist “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville in 2017 “look like a peanut.” Trump is actually embracing and promoting—once again—violent white supremacist actions in which a woman, Heather Heyer, was killed, and where racist marchers promoting Great Replacement theory and carrying torches were literally chanting, “The Jews will not replace us!” Trump also gave an interview to Time magazine this week that is not getting enough attention—as the media is laser-focused on every detail of Trump’s New York trial or the campus protests—in which he lays out many of his authoritarian plans, using the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025, if he wins the presidency again. Just like at his rallies, he’s saying it all out loud.
Donald Trump's plan to deport 11M+ undocumented immigrants is based off the racist Great Replacement Theory conspiracies.
Antisemitic maniac Trump also falsely called the college protests over the Gaza Genocide "antisemitic" and baselessly accused President Joe Biden (and the Democratic Party by extension) of "abandoning" Jews and Israel.
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virgo-moons · 1 year
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Like all art, the strength of Rothko’s work relies on an emotional engagement with the viewer. When I went to the Sistine Chapel with a friend who had no interest in art, he said: “Those paintings on the ceiling weren’t so great. They looked like pretty cartoons.” You could easily pass through a room of Rothko’s pieces and see a series of pretentious colourful rectangles, but Rothko was doing something else. As Michelangelo said: a man paints with his brain, not with his hands. Rothko wanted to reduce the perceptible world to its most basic foundations. Under the mesmeric depth of his thick yet diaphanous colours, the viewer can sense the flow of existence which courses through us all. He wanted to move viewers to a kind of inner illumination, and  when I sit in front of the Seagram Murals in the Tate Modern, my sight entirely taken up by the huge yawning squares, my mind easily turns to thoughts of mortality and immortality, of beguiling complexity and soothing simplicity, of both music and silence.
— Harry Cluff, Rothko’s abstract expressionism owed a lot to the Bible and the Renaissance
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pr1ncemax · 2 years
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things to do when ur stuck in bed, but u have a phone! pt2!
Morpheus 
NASA @ Home!
Virtual visits
-Oceangraphic 
-Faces of Frida Kahlo 
-National Art Gallery 
-New York
-OIL 
-Armchair Travel
-Paris Catacombs 
-Winchester House ($)
-Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum and Foundation
-Rijksmuseum
-British Museum 
-Musée d’Orsay, Paris
-barnes foundation
-The Broad 
-Uffizi
-National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Korea
-MASP - Museu de Arte de São Paulo Assis Chateaubriand
-National Gallery of Victoria 
-Museo Frida Kahlo
-Picasso
-Broken Relationships
Live Cams of fun stuff! ( Kinda makes u feel like a spy) 
-Northern Lights 
-Shedd Aquarium
-Fred Hotel
-Aspen
-Portola
-Resort Cams 
-Las Vegas
-Pandas
-San Diego Zoo
-Melbourne Zoo
-Smithsonian Zoo
-Africam
-WHALE
VR/360 views of cool stuff! 
Harry potter ride! (Without supporting JKR)
Cherry blossoms! 
Google Map Cities!  (Recommended cities below)
-Paris from Sacré-Coeur
-London from The Shard
-Barcelona from Turó de la Rovira
-Hong Kong from Lion Rock
-Jaipur from Nahargarh Fort
-Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo
-New York City from Top of the Rock
-Chicago from 875 North Michigan Avenue
-Singapore from OCBC Skyway
-Cape Town from Table Mountain
-Lisbon from Cristo Rei
-Los Angeles from Griffith Observatory
-Naples from Castel Sant’Elmo
-Rio de Janeiro from Sugarloaf Mountain
Learn Japanese! X / X / X / X / X
AIRBnB Experiences! X / X / X / X 
Learn about hawai’i! 
Art is where the home is! 
The Show Must go onLINE - watch Shakespeare plays thru zoom! 
Watch a concert from 2019! 
No? How about from 1986? 
7 day free trial to see Met opera , or to broadwayhd
Murakami’s 'personal record collection' ( 280+ hours) 
Word Ladders! Anagrams! Hidden Objects!  
Daily spot the difference! 
Pick a book that takes place in every country! 
Learn Korean With BTS or Find a new artist to listen too
Funny Wildlife photos 
The Pano Awards
Learn about drones
Online escape rooms! 
-Hogwarts Digital Escape Room
-365 Escape Games
-Crazy Games
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craft2eu · 5 months
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Carpe Diem – das Motto unserer Zeit - ein Gruß an meine Leser*innen...
Jetzt, quasi am Höhepunkt der Überraschungssaison, zwischen Schleifchen, Buntpapier und Glitzer, kommt mir die Idee, dass ich doch mal in die Glaskugel schauen könnte. Was verspricht sie uns jetzt zum Jahresende an Highlights für die Handwerks- und Designkultur für das kommenden Jahr? Es heisst ja immer, die Vorfreude sei die beste Freude! Positive Zuversicht und die Energie, wenigstens im…
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writinandcrying · 1 year
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Dark Corner | Part 2 - Michelangelo x GN Reader
(platonic friendship to something more? who knows, not me!)
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Angst. Tw hinted depression, friendship loss, harsh decisions, unrequited love, anxiety, moods swings - mainly due quarantine, and uh- acceptance? melodramatic a little bit lols (i suck at summaries pls act like this is sexy enough to seduce you to read this fic)
songs that helped me write this
Hearing Damage - Thom Yorke
Apesar de Querer - Rodrigo Alarcon
Breezeblocks - Alt J 
Snap out of it - Arctic Monkeys
Why We Can’t Be Friends? - The Academic
Eventually - Tame Impala
Chp. 2 - And then it vanished
(Part 1) | (Part 3)
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“Just rip the bandaid off”
The sudden sound of the weights thumping down floor woke you up for spiraling thoughts, yet, your body hadn't a single reaction out of it, it was normal to get used to abrupt, rapid movements when talking about Raphael, as he grabs his gym towel heading towards the exit, he looks back at you, even without glasses, even with the stinging sensation in the corner of your eyes due unshed tears, you can draw out a mix of angry and disappointed expression.
“If you can’t handle it, then rip the bandaid off”
And that’s what you did.
One thing you knew for sure; Your brain is a bitch. Your memory sucked ass into remembering nice moments: the sensation of kisses, the last good bone- crushing hug you had, the last time your mom said she was proud of you. But agonizing, painful memories? Those were on a loop constantly. 
Every strong emotion made Raph’s eyes shine like gemstones, vivid, vibrant, now varnished with disdain, it was beautiful; you hated how you were the reason his golden irises were so gleaming and captivating.
That was 6 months ago, at least you think it was, quarantine sure proved something: time is indeed an illusion that doesn’t make sense. It seems like it was longer than that, although the pain made you grounded as it was yesterday. The last conversation you had with Raphael felt like a sore goodbye on both ends. You wish you could forget it, trick your brain into thinking it’s a happy memory so it can toss it away into the nearest trash.
Looking back at it, you should have fought back. Argued, yelled at him even. You should've made your point about how you didn’t want it to let go. But you were so tired, god- the lifeless sensation of how your body felt back then still phantoms you, it was honestly ridiculous, how a simple phrase could drag you back into the shadows back then. Or maybe you were never truly out of it, just constantly living in the dark, both hyper-aware and oblivious. You didn't know anymore-  a sentence, a reaction, someone else even, those could easily remind you how dark your mind could dive, So yeah, you clearly didn’t have any more strength to fight back, who would have known that being in constant fight with your own self would be so arduous? Maybe only you will know how much it took it from you, how desperately you wanted to hold onto it. And maybe that was the problem, there was nothing to hold on to anymore.
During that night, you didn’t know how long you remained glued on the concrete ground after Red left their training room. How long you stared at the gray walls, the foundation of the lair was unsettling cold. It made you feel more isolated than ever, you found yourself unable to control random shivers traveling through your body. You felt small, pathetic. Tears quietly slid from your cheeks to the very end of your chin. You felt invisible, literally, you could identify what the lair residents were up to by your own lack of sound, vague questions and noises that made you feel even more distant and undeserving to be there. You don’t know how long you remained motionless; sitting and staring at nothing, wishing it was different, but not really sure how to change the future.
You don’t know how you managed to drag yourself to the entrance of the lair, you found yourself there at some point of the night, turning back one more time. You loved that place, even if it took ages to get used to the sewer’s damp smell, you still loved it. you have always seen it as home. Sure, it was actually an abandoned intersection of a reservoir sewage station, yet filled with bits of love. Sewer sweet sewer, In every corner, from the dōjō to any repaired piece of furniture, graffiti or neon sign, it was laced with care and devotion. A house could be made of wood, cement or bricks and it was made for shelter, a home means safety, comfort and belonging, a shelter and much more, The lair is a home. was.
Tears ran down your cheeks as you glanced at the Christmas lights above the homemade living room, you remember how you helped them place it there 2 christmas ago, the boys decided not to take it back, it gave a inviting cozy glow, which matched so gracefully with all the wonderful times you had there. 
It's strange to desperately have the desire to stay and run away at the same time, pressing your lips tight, inhaling deeply- you were not going to sob your way out of it. Gripping hard at your backpack straps, you know you were going to miss how they made you feel, especially him. Dealing with the lack of it, how it became a foreigner feeling once again was one of the toughest parts during this whole fiasco of…. whatever was left remaining between the two of you, only some fond memories lingered, for a while those were the source of warmth during silent nights, but lately, it was a fuel to a abyss you could not stand being in it no more.
When your friendship with Mikey first started, you initially thought ‘that's it, that's something to treasure forever.’ How can two people be so close one day, to complete strangers in a course of some weeks still perturbs your mind and heart to this day.
Mikey wasn’t home when you arrived that day, your first intention was to talk out your last text messages, You weren’t sure how the conversation would start, or if it would even flow at all, you truly missed the times you could just talk about anything to him finding a topic to bond over was as easy as breathing air. He’d be busy. He needed to train, or out with his new friends. As usual,you were always the understanding friend, you knew everyone has their daily duties and hell, being the overbearing clingy friend? No, thank you. 
You and Mikey were different, at least you thought so, it was ok to be vulnerable with him, and him to you, you shared how you always held back truly connecting with others, afraid of how dependable you could become. You’ve seen it firsthand how much that could hurt, Mikey made you feel that you could trust, that you could rely on him, and for once you believed it. 
The first time you felt the unsettling vibe of not being so welcomed anymore was heart wrenching, even by now, you thought you would get used to it. It happened too many times for you to “not receive an invitation”, to be forgotten over hangouts, to being left out of jokes. You knew way too well the thin line between hanging out and being invited over pity.
That’s how you ended up talking to Raphael, maybe wasn’t the starter choice, he was a good friend, sure, but not the greatest with words. Leo and Don would have tried to understand your end at the time. but Raph was closest with Mikey. He saw how sometimes your unspoken, pitiful- whatever the hell this”friendship” is could gut his little brother. Mikey had intense feelings just like Raph, he understood him, and at the end, he would choose his side over yours.
You looked at the lair one last time, trying to preserve what you know you couldn’t have anymore: the warm welcomings, laughing until 5 in the morning, Mario Kart competitions, you name it. As you choke out a cry and walk towards the exit, what were good memories are now too painful to be felt and be remembered, although you already knew that it would haunt you constantly.
Only if you knew a certain turtle, who’s very fond of the color purple, watched and listened to it all in his lab. All of it. All 6 months of it.
Donatello’s top 5 regrets was not coming after you when you ran out crying, if he only knew this would drag into months on end, he would tackle you in a hug and tell you that you are indeed going to be missed, the time he wished to respect your privacy, looking back now, he knew it was a bad move on his end, Donnie was too used to observation and theories, that in this moment the situation needed a bit more action.
When you first befriended the turtles, there was an unspoken contract that they would track every move of you, for your safety and theirs as well.Donatello still had trackers on your personal turtle device, all of their humans friends had turtle-watches, not only for safety or rapid contact, but it also tracked vital signals, indicating any problems or disturbances about their friend's health.
So, when Donnie didn't see both of you and Mikey hanging out weekly, he didn’t think much of it, maybe you were just busy. But,when your signals started to point signs of bad nutrition, he got worried. When it showed a barely fictional human being, followed by hasty, god-awful goodbye (the courtesy of his older brother) he got obsessed with checking on you at least 4 times a week.
When your tracker suddenly shut down, he knew it was bad.
A different sound emitted from Donnie’s lab one quiet morning, a sound that if you have paid close attention, never went off before, this could have gone unnoticed because well, It’s Donnie. Every month he was working on something new, so maybe that was it, right?
By the way the second youngest flew out off the living room couch and, almost knocking Leo as he passed by, it truly showed the severity of the distinct sound.
"You have been away from your lab for 15 minutes and there's already a "situation?" Leo stood by the lab door, watching his brother's fingers work frantically while his eyes didn’t leave the monitors. 
"Yes, i'm overachieving" Donnie replied, Leo cautiously approached, truth to be told, he wasn’t fond of Donnie’s lab. Sure, it was great for secret sharing, strategy talk, toaster fixing area, yes. However, the possibility that any sudden movements there might result in catastrophe made Leonardo feel uneasy to say the least. His movements were always precise inside his brother's favorite Lair spot. Don finally guided Leo's eyes with a short nod after a intrigued "So?" left his lips, a main notification wouldn't budge from the screen, your tracker wasn't on anymore.
The leader reached for his katana instinctively, ready to head towards the door. He felt a firm hand hold his bicep  
"Pump the breaks, I don't think that's necessary", Leo raised a brow, Donnie  was already familiar enough to understand how his brother was once again, questioning what on Earth he was on about - "I have been... monitoring them." Casting his eyes down, Don doesn't like to call it stalking, neither does his older brother, due the circumstances of their reality, they needed to keep an eye out, just to be to safe, That's what they would always say in the back of their heads. "I think they disconnected themself"
"Can you handle this?" Leo asked looking back towards the door to check if anyone was around. Donnie told him what happened that day, infuriated was a nickname for how the oldest felt after hearing about it. 
Raphael didn't had any right to treat you like that, but he also knew if they argued about this, Michelangelo would find out, and the possible outcomes of it weren't pretty. He did make sure to be somewhat transparent about his knowledge over the secret quarrel, glancing towards Raphael if someone questioned your sudden dissapearance.
Truth to be told, Leo had no idea what to do. Figuring emotional, sentimental matters isn't his strong suit, and talking with Master Splinter would only raise red flags all around the situation. So they kept the situation under the rug. only if he knew what was going on between the two of you would drag it for months, he truly wished he had done something sooner. 
"Yeah," Donnie remembers clearly how crushed you looked back then. Was it fair to visit you? To make you relive all those unpleasant memories? 
"I hope so." His carapace met the cushion of his favorite chair followed by a drawn-out sigh as silence settled between the two brothers.
Honey colored eyes turned back into the monitors, Donnie knew briefly how you managed to get by these past months. From monitoring subway stations you caught towards work, to hijacking the local market surveillance cameras. he was glad that you were indeed getting by or so it seems. Again, he doesn't like to call it stalking. It's not like he watches you 24/7, maybe, 16/7? Weekly checkups? Just to make sure you are alright, that's what friends do, right?
Donnie felt a light hand over his shoulder, followed by a pair of sorrowful yet sympathetic Imperial blue eyes, "Tell they have been missed." A half-smile graces Leo’s features. There was mutual sentiment between them. Just because you were mainly Michelangelo's (former) best friend, doesn't mean you didn't leave a print on everyone else.
 "Shall do." Donnie responds with an uncertain smile as he stares back into the monitors. Quickly gathering his gear, it was already nighttime. Soon enough they all needed to headout.
Don sneaked towards the garage entrance by Leo's guidance, he had exactly 48 minutes before patrol, he could be at your place in exactly 9 minutes and 36 seconds, 7 minutes if there was no humans luckering on closest manhole’s alleys to your place, Don lips grow thin and firm, is 38 minutes and 24 seconds is enough to cover a 6 month silence between all of you?
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(next) | (previous)
comments and feedbacks are welcomed!! and thank you @melancholysway for being so helpful into making this scenario possible!
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fashionbooksmilano · 2 years
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Richard Avedon   Relastionships
a cura di Rebecca Senf
Skira, Milano 2022, 194 pagine,  25x 32.5 cm, ISBN 978-8857248608
euro 39,00
email if you want to buy :[email protected]
“Richard Avedon – Relationships” è la mostra dedicata al maestro di fotografia americano che ha rivoluzionato il mondo della moda. Palazzo Reale, Milano  22/09/22 – 29/01/23
Oltre sessant'anni di carriera di uno dei grandi maestri della fotografia del Novecento Un omaggio a Richard Avedon (1923-2004), il fotografo statunitense che ha legato il suo nome e i suoi scatti a riviste iconiche come Harper's Bazaar, Vogue e The New Yorker. Celebre ritrattista, Avedon fu tra i primi padri della fotografia di moda di cui rivoluzionò lo stile quando, già dal 1945, tralasciò le pose statiche per collocare le modelle in ambientazioni reali. Quelle di Avedon sono immagini quasi cinematografiche che portano chi le osserva a immaginare i racconti e le storie che sembrano evocare. Davanti all'obiettivo di Avedon non sono transitate solo le modelle più famose dell'epoca, ma anche una ricca compagine di personaggi tra i quali attori, danzatori, celebrità, artisti, musicisti, scrittori, attivisti per i diritti civili, fino ai capi di stato. Inoltre, non di rado il medesimo soggetto veniva ritratto più volte e in periodi diversi, creando vere e proprie relazioni fotografiche che rivelano aspetti differenti sia della persona ritratta, sia del suo rapporto con il fotografo. Realizzato in collaborazione con il Center for Creative Photography e la Richard Avedon Foundation (con main partner Versace e media partner Vogue Italia), Richard Avedon. Relationships presenta oltre cento fotografie di moda e ritratti iconici, appartenenti alla vasta collezione del Center for Creative Photography: dagli artisti Jasper Johns, Andy Warhol e Louise Nevelson a Ezra Pound e Truman Capote, da John Ford e Michelangelo Antonioni a Humphrey Bogart e Marilyn Monroe, da Jimmy Carter e George Bush a Malcom X e Kofi Annan, da Bob Dylan, John Lennon e Paul McCartney alle modelle Dovima, Veruschka e Linda Evangelista. Da questi straordinari ritratti emerge la capacità di Avedon di catturare espressioni del volto, gesti del corpo, momenti, cambiamenti, stili e tensioni che hanno attraversato la nostra società. Qualità messe ancora più in evidenza dai ritratti in bianconero che lo hanno reso celebre. Queste foto, dove sono riprese personalità che hanno segnato la storia del Novecento, modelle o persone comuni, regalano emozioni a ogni sguardo curioso sull'uomo.
27/10/22
orders to:     [email protected]
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twitter:         @fashionbooksmi
instagram:   fashionbooksmilano, designbooksmilano tumblr:          fashionbooksmilano, designbooksmilano
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pluralswagbracket · 1 year
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The Upper Bracket has been determined!
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Click for quality, man we have a lot of blorbos! I just noticed this bracket ccut off a lot of people’s names. Man. I did not use a traditional seeding method, because we all know Moon Knight would just slaughter half the bracket in one go. In general, I seeded the top bracket’s big vote-drawers against each other, and started seeding everyone else based on media type and fandom size, in the hopes of giving some more obscure guys a chance.
Round one uppers are as follows:
Moon Knight (Marvel) vs Michelangelo (RotTMNT)
The Hulk/Bruce Banner (Marvel) vs Leonard Church (Red vs Blue)
Alluka and Nanika (Hunter x Hunter) vs Greed and Ling (Fullmetal Alchemist)
Shallan Davar (Stormlight Archive) vs Harrowhark Nonagesimus (The Locked Tomb)
Camilla and Palamdes (The Locked Tomb) vs Jekyll and Hyde (like six different adaptations that got submitted)
Shigeo “Mob” Kageyama (Mob Psycho 100) vs Doppio and Diavolo (JJBA)
Hajime Hinata and Izuru Kamekura (Danganrompa) vs the Four Swords Links (The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords)
Touko Fukawa and Genocider Sho (Danganrompa) vs Sora, Roxas, Xion, Ventus and Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts)
Hal 9000 and David Bowman (2001: A Space Odyssey series) vs Tyler Durden and the Narrator (Fight Club)
Doc and O’Malley (Red vs Blue) vs Oscar Pine and Ozpin (RWBY)
Eddie Brock and the Symbiote (Marvel) vs Crazy Jane and the Underground (DC)
Darcy and the Core (Amphibia) vs Raphael (RotTMNT)
Dr Alto Clef (SCP Foundation) vs Red and Twitch Chat (Twitch Plays Pokemon)
Vash the Stampede and Eriks (Trigun) vs Yugi Mutou and Atem (Yu-Gi-Oh)
Uendo Toneido (Ace Attorney) vs Maxim Kischine (Castlevania)
Madeline and Mirrorline (Celeste) vs Frisk, Chara and the Player (Undertale)
Votable polls will go up once I have the spoons to get images together!
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pseudopeachy · 2 years
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Imaushi Wakasa x gn!Reader: Before the Sunrise
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Genre: Fluff
Character: Imaushi Wakasa, timeline not specified
Warnings: none, but it’s a bit suggestive if you squint. semi-proofread!! its just me wanting to wake up next to my bb Waka (❁´◡`❁)
Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment 🖤
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Grays and Blues danced around the chilly room, gracefully moving to the sound of light snores coming from your boyfriend. Your eyes took a few seconds to clear up and to finally register the calmness surrounding the pseudo heaven.
You then found yourself scooting closer to your lover’s form, relishing in the small moment until you both have to start the day. 
“You’re not planning on leaving the bed so early, right?” Wakasa’s morning voice filled the room, caressing your ears as his hands pulled you closer in a tight embrace. Your frame was squished against him, your face in his neck while he kisses your temple, his legs tangling with a familiar pair. 
“Of course not, Bubba.” You say, hands snaking around his face. You heard him hum, shifting your bodies. Now he was above you, face in your neck with his lips leaving small kisses from your jawline down to collarbones. 
“Liar,” Wakasa whispers, earning him a giggle. “What a fucking week. Wanna lay here with you the whole day instead.” 
“Bubba, it’s only Tuesday.” 
“Exactly.” 
You only chuckled at his grumbles. He had always been a grumpy person; never liking mornings unless he was going out to break a few jaws and bones. You even have to haul him out of bed on most occasions, always reminding him that he shouldn't leave Benkei running the place all by himself. 
“He can handle all that shit, don’t worry about ‘im.” he’d always retort while clinging onto you. 
“Stop thinking, bubby. The gears in your head are too damn loud.” He said. His lips are still on your neck before resuming littering it with small bites and butterfly kisses. You can feel him softly kneading your arms as you found yourself weaving through his locks. 
You have always found Wakasa so ethereal; Lazy lilac eyes holding millions of galaxies in each one, blond and purple locks envied by the finest of silks, body trained to rival any god yet contains the warmth of a thousand sun. But your favorite must be his lips — so feverish like an aphrodisiac, while his hands must have copied Michelangelo’s for all the work he’s done on your body. 
By the time your train of thoughts finally ceased, Wakasa was already hovering above you. His lips lazily met yours in a loving embrace as his hands encased yours. He groans, the wanton need to pull you closer has one of his hands on your head as he deepened the kiss. 
The sheets have been tossed aside, but the warmth of your hands on his body had him shivering in delight. He bit your lower lip when he felt your nails grazing on his chest, asking for your tongue to a tango. He hums when you let him, hands now on your waist while yours rested on his shoulders. 
“Love you so much.” Wakasa whispers against your lips before placing a few pecks, clearly amused that you can’t even say ‘love you too’ without interruptions. 
He then sighs as he caged you again in his arms. He found solace during times like this; you always had the power to calm down his storms. 
He loves you so; you who always made sure he was safe, you who always drops everything just so you can hide him from the cruel world, you who never judged him as he picked up his broken pieces and made himself whole, allowing you to strengthen the foundations later on. 
Wakasa adores you. He loves you so; he can’t imagine not waking up next to you. He thinks he’d die if you were to not give him his medicine of hugs and kisses like the drama queen that he is. He loved the way you built a huge fire from his hard and cold exterior, not once letting him feel like he was alone behind closed doors. He loved the way he can be vulnerable and let you hold him whenever he’d think of what if’s and his best friend whom you’ll never have the honor of meeting. 
Wakasa loves you so, and hell be damned if he ever stopped. 
“What’d you want for breakfast, bubba?” you hum against his chest, unaware of the smirk growing on his face. 
“What about you, me, in this bed, until the sunrise?” 
“… Fine,” Was all he needed to place you underneath him and start attacking you with kisses. 
God, do you love early mornings like this.
-🖤-
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