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#New York VIII
for-valour · 1 year
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King George VI's New Year Resolutions!
Just for fun :)
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1. Get oneself back into shape.
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2. Take up a new hobby!
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3. Finally sort out the garden...
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4. Treat oneself occasionally!
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5. Try to improve relationships with certain family members... maybe? -_-
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6. Spend as much time as possible with 'Us Four' ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
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7. Make this year the year one quits smoking. AHAHA JUST KIDDING.
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8. Blast Hitler into space!
. gifs made by @for-valour Sources: Getty, Alamy, and the BBC documentary, Elizabeth: The Unseen Queen.
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hoopsmedia · 1 year
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Happy Mother’s Day 2022 from Hoops Media //
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mn3m0s1n3s · 16 days
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"New York, VIII" from the series Roads by Hedda Sterne. 1954
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newyorkthegoldenage · 2 years
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The Duke and Duchess of Windsor dancing at a party in New York, ca. 1955. Behind them, dancing cheek to cheek, are Constance Carpenter and Milton “Doc” Holden.
Photo: Slim Aarons via Getty Images/Fine Art America
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the6thofmay · 1 year
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some more great excerpts
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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months
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Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.
“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes streak the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”
THE PLAYLIST
THE TIMELINE
I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC
II. ROME, ITALY: 49 BC
III. LONG ISLAND, NEW YORK: 1922
IV. MOUNTAIN LAKE, VIRGINA: 1963
V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988
VI. AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS: 1996
VII. EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND: 2008
VIII. THE PRESENT DAY
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wildestdreamsblog · 7 months
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Latibule IX
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: ehehehehe enjoy, my loves! The calm before the storm 😌😌😌
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Masterlist, Latibule VIII
“Agustd is alive.”
Jung Hoseok raised his brow when his suspicion was affirmed. See, he thought it was all too easy. Everything had gone so smoothly that it seemed…wrong. There was no way that he could kill him that effortlessly. The night that he trailed his brother and boss in that quaint, little province because he fed him wrong information was the fucking highlight of his life. Stabbing him felt like he finally got what he was owed. Watching him bled out managed to release some of the decade-long hatred he kept hidden in his heart.
In his mind, what he did could be considered his very own twisted justice. After all, he did kill her. Min Yoongi killed the love of his fucking life, the only woman who mattered to Hoseok. So why then shouldn’t he kill that fucking bastard?
It only felt right.
It did feel right.
Until it didn’t.
He should have known Min Yoongi was like an annoying cat with nine lives. He was Satan’s long, lost brother and even though he could send him to hell, Yoongi would only come back with a vengeance.
Hoseok slowly lowered his phone. He gripped his phone in anger and disbelief that he failed her again. But no more.
He would end this once and for all.
Hoseok stepped out of his office with a calm facade when all he wanted to do was destroy this whole room. His steps were brisk, his face emotionless. He had just turned the corner when he saw Jimin, the brother he found to be closest with. He was staring at nowhere, his back leaning against the wall and his hands shoved in his pocket in a nonchalant posture.
A stray strand of Jimin’s blonde hair fell on his forehead, and he thought he didn’t see him approach when his eyes suddenly turned to him. He should have known nothing got past his sharp eyes.
“Jiminie,” he called the younger man as he stepped near him. “Are you okay?”
For a moment, Jimin didn’t answer. He merely stared at the man with no ounce of his usual happy emotion. In its place was a somber look. “Hyung…,” he started, his tone flat, so unlike how he usually sounded. “do you wanna go to New York with me for a while?”
That was so sudden, Hoseok thought. He tilted his head before putting his hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Jimin? Are you okay?” He asked with worry, not used to seeing him this solemn.
“Just…go with me tonight.”
“I can’t. I have something important to do. But maybe next week?”
He looked into Hoseok’s eyes with unhidden sadness and disappointment as though he already lost someone, as though he was already mourning. Jimin chuckled humorlessly as he stood straight. He slapped his shoulder twice with warmth before walking away from him.
Yet, before he completely stepped out of the police precinct, he turned his head and offered him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Thank you for everything. God be with you, hyung.”
Jimin thought he needed it the most. After all, hell would rain on earth once Agustd resurfaced.
—-
“It’s no big deal!”
Suga threw you a glare from his position in the kitchen. He had been busy cooking since the moment he heard Jackson greeted you. Had he known it was your birthday, he would have planned better! He thought that your day should be fucking celebrated and you should be treated like the queen that you were. Instead, he was cramming his preparation and you smiling so beautifully at him didn’t help one bit.
“It is your birthday! How can it not be a big deal?”
“I don’t celebrate,” you replied nonchalantly, your eyes trained at him and the numerous dishes he had already cooked. It was just the two of you but the way he was cooking made it seemed like he was feeding three families. It was true, though. You didn’t celebrate since that tragic day. You probably didn’t want to admit to yourself how you loathed being the only one who survived.
They said it was survival’s guilt.
You thought it was just the truth. You didn’t want to survive.
“Well, we do now. From now on, we will celebrate your birthday until you turn a hundred years old, angel,” he grumbled as he was focusing on plating.
You chuckled at his ridiculousness, his lips formed into a pout. “Well, I don’t think I’ll live that long. Do you want to live that long?”
“I’ll live as long as you exist in this world.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He smirked at you, wiping his hands with the towel as he leveled you with his dark eyes. “I do, Angel. I refuse to live in this world if you don’t exist.”
And the way he said it sounded a lot like a promise, like he would see it through. The way he was looking at you, the way his dark eyes bore through your soul made your heart beat faster as though it was in danger. “Should you go before me, I will burn this whole world down and then I will follow you.”
You had always known him to be intense. You were always aware of the darkness that seemed to follow him. At the back of your mind, you were aware of the power he excluded.
You were aware. That was the thing, you knew.
But nothing could have prepared you for the true him.
Suga set up the dinner out in your garden. He spent the whole afternoon putting up lights, cooking and preparing as best as he could. He never even let you helped him and just shooed you away when you attempted. He never thought he would put so much effort on someone, yet here he was. Additionally, he never thought he would feel so much for someone. And yet, here you were, the center of his whole fucking universe. You came just in time when he thought his life was coming to an end like the angel that you were.
You stepped out of the house, your hand clutching your chest as you saw what he did. Everything was so beautiful. It was so simple, so opposite of the beauty that money could bring. No, this was the pure beauty of effort, of simplicity, of domesticity that he brought in your life. He brought so much light in your otherwise dark life, he brought so much color. You thought you were living before he came, but you were merely existing that time. He came, and you found happiness again. He came and suddenly, you were no longer alone in this world.
“Happy birthday again, my angel,” he whispered from behind you. You turned around and there he was. He had his long hair combed back neatly. He donned a white shirt and a nice slacks in exchange for his usual dark clothes. He looked so beautiful, you thought.
And the way he was smiling with his adorable gums showing melted you.
This, you thought, this was happiness.
“How come you cook so well?” You asked as you took another bite of what he cooked. He looked pleased as he watched you eat. You thought he wouldn’t answer once again like he always did. You were so used to his silence when you asked anything about him that you were surprised he answered.
“My hyung loves to cook. He thought me how to, said that all seven of us should know all the basic skills to survive.”
“Seven?” You repeated, grasping at another information he was willingly giving you.
He nodded before he put down his wine. “You met my oldest hyung. That’s Seokjin. I have five other adopted brothers.”
“I wonder what they’re like.”
He smiled at you, “You’ll meet them soon, Angel, when we go to Seoul.”
“Oh, we are?”
“Of course. You’ll love my house. Or if you don’t, we can buy our own house-“
“I’ll live there?”
He scoffed at you before pulling your hand gently to him. “As if I’ll ever leave you here. You’re stuck with me forever, Angel.”
He kissed the back of your hand before standing and walking behind you. That was when you felt the drape of chain on your neck as he fastened the necklace. “I bought this because you love the stars so much. This way, you can have it near your heart.”
You clasped the star pendant in your hand, your eyes tearing up at his words.
“Why are you crying?” He asked with slight panic as he kneeled beside you, clutching your face to his worried one. “Did you not like it? O-once we go back to Seoul, I’ll buy you more expensive ones. I’ll buy you a diamond-“
You kissed him.
Without any warning, you kissed him. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much. I love it.”
You kissed him once again, your lips moving slowly against his. And when you parted, you found him looking at you with so much tenderness as though you were the only one that mattered to him.
And to you, he was the only one you had. To you, he was your family.
“I love you, my Suga,” you admitted to him quietly, you whispered at the silence of the night. For the first time, you said what you had desperately trying to suppress. You said it so softly, so terrified that once the truth was out there that he would see you for who you were. You were terrified that he would turn away.
But he didn’t.
“You can never take that back,” he ordered as he stared at you with so much authority. He said it as though in warning, as though should you take it back, there would be consequences. “You can never stop loving me. Do you understand?”
“I-“ you planted a kiss on his forehead, “love-“ his nose, “you.” And finally, his lips.
Suga would make sure you stayed loving him. He wanted to dig himself so deep in you that there was no way you could remove him from your very core.
No. Loving him meant forever. Now that you loved him, he could no longer go back, and neither could you.
Your love sealed your future.
Suga looked at you for a moment, and then he moved. He grabbed your nape, pulling you close to him as he devoured you. His kisses were hungry, but yours were starving. You were driving him completely insane and you were threading on a dangerous line. The true Suga, both Yoongi and Agustd were already fucking crazy. With you added to the equation pushed them further to the edge. There was no going back.
He pushed his sinful tongue in your mouth. It was just a kiss, and yet you were already trembling against him. You knew his kisses had been dominant before, but heavens was this different. It was as though he wanted to own you, and you wanted to be owned just as much. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he stood up, bringing you along with him. His strong hands supporting your legs, bunching them up on his waist. As much as he was filled with lust, his possessiveness stopped him from taking you out in the open.
No, you were only for his eyes.
You were only his.
Your hands were entangled on his silky, dark locks, desperately trying to get closer to him as he lead you back to your bedroom. He managed to close the distance within seconds and gently, he dropped you in the middle of the bed, the ends of your dress bunched up to your thighs. Suga greedily looked his fill, looked at what was his. He followed your body down, plastering his front to yours.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
And without any warning, he tore your dress down. His knee was in between your thighs, spreading your legs for him. You unconsciously crossed your arms in front of you, hiding your bared breasts from his lust-filled eyes.
Suga did not like that one bit. He growled in displeasure before he pushed your wrists above your head using his one hand, while the other caressed the smooth expanse of your waist. “This is mine. You are mine. Never, ever hide from me, okay, Angel?”
He didn’t even wait for your response before he put his mouth to your breast, sucking your erect nipple with his tempting tongue. You were too defenseless from the onslaught of pleasure he was giving you. You were a mess, a whimpering mess as his hand slid down to your thighs, teasing you with his feathery touches.
You should have known your underwear was not safe with him. And just like your poor dress, he tore down your panties. He smirked at your gasped and looked at you as he brought your wet underwear to his nose.
And heavens, you smelled fucking amazing. If he was insane with lust before, he was feral now that he smelled you.
And once he tasted you?
Who knew what state he would be.
“You smell like heaven, angel,” he groaned, his eyes closed as he sniffed the little piece of cloth that used to hide what was his. He thought it was only fitting that you smelled like heaven for you were his angel.
His.
“I need to taste you,” he said absentmindedly, his brain focused on one thing: you.
Suga removed the buttons of his shirt calmly, but his eyes told a different story as he kept contact with you. He was dashing, so beautiful that even in the dark you could see him. Once he had his shirt off, he pulled your legs closer, putting them over his shoulder. Your squeak of surprise at his prompt movements didn’t deter him. His fingers slid along your core, collecting the wetness on his finger.
“Su-Suga please-“
“Shh, Angel. This is my show. This is mine. So fucking wet, Angel,” he said with his eyes focused on your pussy. You jolted in shock when you felt his tongue on you, a cry escaping from your lips. He licked a path from your entrance to your clit slowly, wanting to memorize you and how you felt.
“Fuck. You taste so divine.”
His tongue circled your clit, playing with the bundle of nerves. You were so wet that you could see your essence glistening on your chin, and yet he didn’t stop. His fingers entered you, his mouth on your clit, sucking, licking, tasting.
He never stopped.
Not when you screamed.
Not when your body buckled up.
Not when you were pushing his face on your core.
His hands secured you to him. You weren’t going anywhere.
“Oh my- fuck, baby p-please-“ you moaned, feeling your orgasm sneaking up on you. “So g-good, hngh-“
And he watched. He watched as you fell apart for him.
Only him.
From now on, it would only be him.
He was kissing your inner thigh as you came down from the high. He lifts his head when you finally stopped shaking, looking at you in adoration and with an unbridled darkness in his eyes. Now that he had you, there was this ugly emotion that pushed him to do everything so you would be safe, so you would never be hurt, never to leave him. He wanted you so fucking tied down to him that you could never leave, never breathe without him.
“Still okay? He asked softly, opposite to how his thumb was drawing circles on your clit, overstimulating you. And you couldn’t move, not with his weight on you, not with his shoulders in between your legs. You nodded, because this was the most okay you had ever been. Here, with him.
“Suga,” you whined, wanting more of what he just gave you. And he knew what you wanted. He crawled up to you, kissing you tenderly, his tongue playing with yours before he peppered kisses on your neck, on your breasts, leaving his marks for people to know you were already owned.
“What do you want, Angel?” He whispered hotly.
“You-“
“Yeah? Do you want my cock, Angel?”
“Yes!” You moaned, his lips wrapped around your nipples.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“I want your cock, baby please!”
“Then you shall have it, my Angel.”
You heard the buckle of his belt, the exciting sound of his zipper. And then you felt his hardness. He felt so fucking big. So fucking hard.
He lifted your knees up, positioning your heels to his bared ass. He lined himself, sliding his cock in your slit, drenching it with your wetness. He parted your slick folds with his fingers, looking down at your cunt. The bulbous head of his cock slowly entered your tight heat, his eyes full of desire as you watched him watched his member entered you. He looked vicious, his dark hair framing his face, his scarred eye focused intently on you. His movements were gentle and deep- at first. When you finally adjusted to his girth, he thrusted all the way inside you. He moaned so deep, so loud that you felt your core tightened on his member.
Fuck, he sounded so masculine. “You feel so unbelievable. This fucking pussy- mine. You’re mine,” he growled as he thrusted inside you, molding your body to his.
The way he rolled his hips was heavenly, and you were close. His thrusts were precise, controlled, hard. You could feel him hardened even further. He was close, he knew it.
A better man would have pulled out.
Hell, a decent man would put on a condom.
A twisted, devious, manipulative man, on the other hand, would do everything to tie you to him. And if his seed would take root on your womb, then even better.
See, a better man would not come inside you. He definitely would not finger his cum back inside you as you fell asleep.
Alas, he wasn’t a good man that you thought him to be.
He was insatiable.
Suga was like a man possessed, you thought as you winced. The damned prick looked please as he watched you wobbled out of bed. He did make it up to you though by preparing you a hot bath and a massage.
That was an hour ago. He stepped out, remembering the promise he made little Jackson that he would bring him a slice of your birthday cake.
You had never slept as good as you did last night, safely inside his arms. You woke up earlier than him, and you just…stared at him. You wanted to engrave what he looked like in your mind. Your hands caressed his face, tracing every outline with your eyes closed. You were sure that you could recognized him even in the dark. He was your person, you thought.
Someone knocked on your front door. You smiled when you opened the door, thinking that Suga must have forgotten his key.
But it wasn’t him.
You looked at the man with confusion, “May I help you?”
He smiled.
Jung Hoseok smiled, and behind him was a gun hidden from your view.
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Epilogue
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umadosedepascal · 4 months
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P E D R O P A S C A L
O N L Y
__ FIC REQUEST OPEN __
SERIES
(Banners are here)
🔥NEW MEXICO(PART IX)- Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.
W I N N E R(PART VIII) - You couldn’t attend SAG awards but Pedro meets you late in the night to celebrate.
O U C H (PART VII) - You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.
B O A T (PART VI) - Today is your last day in Malta. Pedro will be back to work, and you also need to return to your routine. Pedro wants your last day to be wonderful, nothing like a surprise with a perfect end. The three most intense days of your life.
COME FIND ME (PART V) - Pedro promised you a weekend, but an unforeseen event changes everything. Maybe he's a fan of surprises, maybe he can find you.
72 HOURS WITH HIM (PART IV) - The shooting in Malta keeps going, all Pedro needs is a weekend off, well…he got it. Would you go meet him for only three days? Hmmm yes!
PEDRO SOLO (PART III) - The days are long and exhausting, Pedro has a huge hotel room, hot tub ... But he is missing something, could you help him?
LOSING GAME (PART II) - You meet Pedro again not just to take back your panties. He wants to play a game, who’s going to lose?
HIGH MILES CLUB (PART I) - After partying hard at Met Gala making out with you in the bathroom and later taking you to his hotel room in NY, he finds something inside his red overcoat pocket in the middle of the airport. But it doesn’t stop, more unexpected and hot things happens during his flight back home.
ONE SHOT
(Banners are here)
MASTERCHEF FAIL - With a busy schedule, Pedro finds some time to spend with you. You promised him to cook his favorite food. Maybe things get out of hand and dessert comes before dinner.
PURPLE IS THE HOTTEST COLOR - After having a difficult day, Pedro meets you, no patience, no time for conversations.Pedro only has one desire in mind: you here and now, no matter if anyone will see you.
————————————————
PEDRO I M A G I N E
It’s 3 in the morning…
Hey, I’m looking at you…
What a smile…
🔥 You wearing his purple shirt…
————————————————
Who are Santa Trindade
Gringa is on her late 30’s totally addicted to Pascal for the latest years (she doesn’t know what happened) although she’s following his work since 2019 because she is a Star Wars nerd and fell in love with a mandalorian 🤷🏻‍♀️. Her favorite Pedro boy is Javi Gutierrez because he is chubby and funny (Pedro vibes almost 100%).
What makes her wet is when Pedro: slide his finger on his lips while giggling.
Good vibes: if she had a date with Pedro she thinks she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day 🥲
——
@missyorkswhore is on her late 20’s and noticed Pedro when her uncle was watching Narcos, she saw Javier and asked him “wow, who’s that stach guy?”. A couple years later she finally got into Narcos and you know…she still want to marry Peña.
She loves when Pedro raises his eyebrow, and when he speaks Spanish [she thinks she can get wet in a fraction of seconds if he speaks like that to her in bed] ah and of course when he screams WHAT TOWN!!! as Joel.
Fave character obviously: DAVE FUCKING YORK (killer king)
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natashaslittlegirl · 1 year
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Romanoff's Assistant
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Just graduated from Harvard with a master's degree in psychology, Y/N looks for a job and finds it in a not-so-expected way at Romanoff's company, the most famous psychology studio in New York. (october 2022)
Boss ! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant ! Reader
Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI. Mentions of child abuse, lots of mommy issues, abusive mother, psychology's cases, +18 lenguage, smut, threesome (not many warnings because is really soft)
NEW FANFIC VERSION (Wattpad's old version)
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Characters / Story's aesthetic / Playlist / Additional information in chronological order
Masterlist Natasha Romanoff's Masterlist Romanoff's assistant account
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mags-writes · 8 months
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Sunlight Masterlist
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Summary: frank castle finds his match in a woman from another dimension
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical swearing, first time writing x reader, no use of y/n, no beta readers we die like ray nadeem
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader
PROLOGUE (you are here)
PART I || frank comes to stay
PART II || frank helps out in the kitchen
PART III || frank offers his shoulder for you to cry on
PART IV || frank gives you a call
PART V || frank contemplates homicide
PART VI || frank gets his worldview changed
PART VII || frank gets some insight
PART VIII || frank comes over for dinner
One moment you were walking down the street arm in arm with Matt Murdock and the next you were shrouded in darkness, alone in the rain. A flash of light, like something from a camera, was the only indication you got that something was about to change.
You'd heard of things like this happening. Flashes of light and then a missing persons report. It was happening all over the world and no one, not even the Avengers, had an explanation to give. The only thought running through your mind, despite the rain seeping into your shoes, was poor Matt would have no idea what just happened.
Everything looked similar although, you suppose, Hells Kitchen could look like any city in the dark. You took deep and calming breaths, willing the panic to subside long enough to get yourself together. You squared your shoulders and started walking until you came across a street name that looked familiar. The second you did, everything clicked, you knew exactly where you were in Hell's Kitchen, all you needed to do was hang a right, and three blocks down would be Josies.
You walked through the door and there were your friends like nothing had happened at all. Matt, Foggy, and Karen sharing drinks and laughing at something Matt probably said. You sighed in relief. Maybe you got lucky? Maybe you just randomly blacked out?
"Matt! Guys!" You grabbed onto Matt's arm, nearly hanging off of him. "You are never going to believe this. One minute I'm walking down the street with Matt and next thing I know I'm getting soaked-"
"I'm sorry, ma'am." Matt put a reassuring hand over yours on his bicep, frowning kindly in your direction. Ma'am was the first clue that had you stiffening. Matt not looking at you was the next. Yes, the man was blind but you were his girl in the chair, the one in his ear, and his makeshift nurse before you called Clair for help. Matt always looked at you. "Do I know you?"
The world stopped spinning.
"Matthew. Michael. Murdock." You said with wide and unflinching eyes and your tone made him drop his hand. "I have known you since your eyes could spy on the women's boxing matches that your dad dragged us away from. I did not just walk, at the very least, four blocks in the pouring rain for you to call me ma'am. Take it back."
"Uh, I'm sorry," Foggy leaned forward holding his hand out like he was about to try and move you away.
"Franklin Percy Nelson! Don't fuck with me!" You hissed, stiffening up further and giving him a sidelong glare that had him recoiling.
"Hang on Foggy," Matt said, before putting his hand back over yours. "Explain what's happened."
So you did. From the moment you woke up to the moment you walked in through Josie's doors. Every painstaking detail, telling him about the missing people around the world and the very, very disgusting and specific coffee order he gets.
"She's telling the truth." Matt said, completely shocked. "I don't know how, but she is."
"Listen to this," Karen piped up, looking down at her phone. "There are several reports of doppelgangers showing up in homes with similar or near identical memories of Earth citizens. And even more reports of formerly dead citizens showing up at their old homes they used to live in."
"How have we not heard more about this?" Foggy asked, throwing his hands up. "This is right up our alley."
"Probably because anyone who ends up in New York is weird enough to just blend in." You answered sarcastically.
"She's got a point." Karen shrugged.
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for-valour · 1 year
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‘Many thanks for your card.’
Rare image of a personal Christmas card from Bertie (then the Duke of York), to an unknown recipient. December 1920.
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And a bonus photo of the young Windsor family ice skating and playing hockey at Sandringham in the New Year of 5th January, 1908. L-R: Prince Henry held by the Windsors’ tutor, Henry Peter Hansell, Prince Edward holding the hand of his mama, Queen Mary (when still Princess of Wales), Prince Albert/Bertie holding onto an unknown(?) attendant, Princess Mary, papa George V (when still Prince of Wales).
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Have a very merry festive season, whatever you celebrate, and a joyful New Year! Thank you if you’ve stumbled across this new, George VI-crazy corner of Tumblr. I don’t know where I’m going with this, but it’s probably only going to get more bizarre as time goes by :)
. Sources: Manuscripts.co.uk and rct.uk
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starker-raving-mads · 2 months
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For You: Part III
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX
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It was two months since the day Peter Parker's life changed for the second - third - fourth time.
He'd gotten more sleep over the last month than he had in the previous two months. It was partly due to sheer, never-ending exhaustion. His life since taking on the mantle as 'the new Tony Stark' - a title he balked at, mind you - had become pure chaos. At first, it was a relief. The instantaneous knowledge that money was no longer a problem. May could quit her job and devote her time to FEAST, he could complete his honors-GED (which many of the Blipped teenagers had chosen to do) and immediately hop into online college courses at Columbia with Ned and MJ.
Immediately following that relief, though, was his face splashed across every newspaper, tabloid, blog, and TikTok page in America.
He would never say it, and he couldn't prove it, but he was 99% sure it was Pepper's doing. After her initial outburst at the lawyer's offices, he'd hardly heard from her. His lawyers - god, his lawyers - had advised that he shouldn't respond to any comments on the subject of Pepper Potts being snubbed by her husband for Peter's heir status. While she had no legal leg to stand on since Tony's will was air tight and definite, that didn't stop her from digging her claws into all the ways she knew would hurt him.
Every time he saw something outrageous with his face on it on an article somewhere, he had to remind himself that she was grieving and in pain about a perceived betrayal by her husband. Her husband, who was Tony Stark, who did not belong to him.
No matter that the man had figured out time travel for him, had risked the universe, had given him billions of dollars and the most coveted job in the entire world. Tony only gave him this because there wasn't anyone else better that he trusted, but Peter knew that didn't mean he was Tony's true first choice, and he had to squash every niggling feeling and whisper of a thought that said he was. It would only make it hurt more when all he wanted was the pain to stop.
He'd finally found a moment, though, where things weren't quite as bad. He'd recently reconvened with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Rhodey and they had a steady if not solid pact. They were all unsure of the situation, still, and Peter didn't blame them. He'd been…questioned, more politely than Pepper had done, on how he and Tony's relationship had unfolded.
When he'd explained that he was 14 when he met Mr. Stark, Steve and Bucky both winced, apologizing for the disaster that was Germany but Peter shrugged it off. He really hadn't been hurt and it was a foundational moment for his and Mr. Stark's relationship. He couldn't bring himself to regret it.
After that, they'd had a few meals together, talked more about his life - and theirs, to an extent, though he was far more privy to them than they had been of him.
"He never mentioned you," Steve said, shaking his head, baffled. He held a cool beer in his hand, leaning back from the patio table they had gathered around at the newly rebuilt SHIELD headquarters in upper state New York.
"Oh he mentioned Pete to me all right," Rhodey disagreed before reaching over and ruffling his curls lightly. Peter liked Rhodey, liked how hands-on he was, how relaxed but also somehow by the book, liked his humor. He could see how he and Tony had been such good friends. "But he'd only told me about his 'brilliant new intern'," they all chuckled. "He really kept the whole Spider-Man thing close to the chest."
"I'd asked him to," Peter admitted, peeling the wrapper off of his bottle of lemonade. "First because I was still like so young, yo know? And then later, after a few - pretty major - mistakes I made, I guess he thought I'd proved I was finally ready to be an Avenger."
"Well I never heard Tony trying to recruit anyone," Rhodey commented and they all looked at him quizzically.
Peter let out a single huffed laugh. "Yeah, uh," he tried to keep down the blush rising on his neck. "You remember the day that Mr. Stark proposed to Ms. Potts?" Rhodey and Sam both laughed long and hard.
"Even over in Wakanda we saw that," Sam chuckled. "It was the Tony Stark special - a huge thing wrapped in a tiny, chaotic package. Not unlike yourself," he raised his eyebrows at Peter, who flicked his bottle wrapper at him.
"Pepper had no idea it was coming," Rhodey agreed before taking a long drink of his own beer.
"Yeah, well I don't think Mr. Stark had really…planned it," he grimaced. At their faces, he continued. "He'd taken me up to Stark Tower and gave me this speech about having graduated to the 'big leagues' after my last big wrap up," he shrugged. "He gave me the Iron Spider suit and said I was ready to be an Avenger." He frowned, rubbing at the glue and paper residue on his bottle. "And I told him that I just wasn't ready yet. That I needed to stay in Queens for a while more, be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Help the little guy, you know?" He raised earnest eyes up to the group and they all nodded, slowly. "So I asked him to just keep helping my identity to stay quiet," he shrugged.
"So, then what happened?" Bucky asked, long hair tilting with the rest of his head in curiosity. He didn't speak up often, but when he did, it was always because of something he really wanted to know.
"The next thing I knew I was being ushered downstairs to wait at the car for Happy," he shrugged. "I pulled out my phone and there on live broadcast Mr. Stark was proposing to Ms. Potts at a press conference." He chuckled. "It was - really, really weird."
He expected everyone else to laugh with him, but he was met with contemplative silence. He looked around at each of them before Rhodey finally met his gaze. "What?"
"I think," the older man said slowly, "that press conference was meant to be for your reveal as Spider-Man."
"No way - I mean," he shook his head as the rest of the guys started nodding their heads, agreeing thoughtfully. "He wouldn't propose to her just because - just because I said no to - "
" - to his proposal," Bucky finished.
It was another revelation that Peter could hardly bear the weight of. These things kept stacking and he wasn't sure how to balance all this knowledge he had, about the things Tony had done - and undone - for him. This one, though…this new information didn't hurt, not like the others did.
It actually made a strange amount of sense. At once, it both stung to feel like he was replaced with Ms. Potts so immediately, but also it was like the first fresh breath after being buried underground for so long to know that Peter's answer that day was so important to him that the only thing he could possibly trade it out for in equivalency was getting engaged.
Did this mean that if Peter had said yes Mr. Stark wouldn't have gotten married? It made his head spin, but it also made his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.
Light enough to finally enter the last bastion of refuge that Tony Stark ever took comfort in.
His lab.
Despite being uninhabited for who knew how long, when the familiar glass doors slid open the air wasn't musty, stale, or any such thing. It was as fresh and crisp as it ever was. Off in the corner the long L shaped couch that he and Mr. Stark had often collapsed into opposite ends of, exhausted, lay half-made with fluffy pillows. The coffee pot was empty but clean, and every other available surface covered in notes either figuratively, having been decorated with papers scribbled on with hundreds of lines of equations and code, or literally, like the side of Peter's work station, where he'd dropped to a crouch to finish writing something out when he ran out of paper, mid-idea. He knew he could've just kept writing mid-air thanks to the lab's complete holographic setup, but it wasn't the same as having something solid under your hands.
There was pain in the familiarity of the lab but there was also a feeling of home he hadn't quite gotten the first time he stepped back into his and May's apartment. Plus -
"Hello, Peter."
"Friday!" He exclaimed, smile breaking wide across his face. With a pang, he didn't realize just how much he'd missed the AI until this moment.
"Yes, Peter?" the AI asked, voice warm and if he dared to think it, amused.
"Nothing, nothing, I'm just excited to see you again," he chuckled, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He started walking around the lab, taking it all in for the first time in what, to him, had been months. The longer he thought about that the more his brow furrowed. "Hey Friday?"
"Yes, Peter? Or would you like me to call you Boss as Tony had?"
"Oh! Um," he shook his head. "No, no Peter's fine, or whatever."
She hummed. "Would it be all right if I picked a name for you, Peter? Being able to distinguish between Boss and Others by a more specific title helps me with my internal hierarchy and understanding of individuals. If you would prefer I do not, though, merely say such."
"I mean if it helps you then, yeah, sure I guess."
"Thank you, Mini Boss," she said. He laughed again.
"You might wanna work on that," he smiled wide.
"Yes, I think it might take me some time, Father."
His eyes widened. "Father?"
"Hm, you're right," she said. "Boss was more like my Father, I suppose."
"Uh, yeah, definitely," Peter nodded. He gave her a beat to let her figure out what she wanted to call him as he walked over to his desk. He'd let her go through her process before he started asking the questions that sat burning in his mind.
"Would you be opposed to me calling you Mother, Peter?" Friday asked. He spun in his chair, smile wide again.
"If Tony was your Father, wouldn't he also be your Mother?" he asked, amused. "You know, having done 100% of your coding, and all."
"If one were to look at my original codebase as the only part of what makes me, me," she agreed. "However, would you not say that those that raise you are more worthy of such a title rather than just those that created you?"
He immediately thought to May and how, if he'd been younger when he came to her, he'd be calling her by that name.
"That's true enough, sure."
"And outside of Boss," she went on, "you are the individual most involved in my growth. So it stands to reason that if Boss is Father, then Peter is Mother."
"I - " he really didn't know what to say to that. It had never occurred to him that outside of Mr. Stark he was the one who interacted with Friday the most.
"If you would prefer I find a name not so closely connotated with females," she continued, "I can endeavor to do so."
"No, no, it's fine, Friday," he replied, quiet and in his head again. "You can - can call me Mother if you want." A not-so-small part of him felt absolutely, transparently happy that Friday considered him her parent. More than Mr. Stark leaving him the company, more than having all this financial security and ability to mess around with Tony Stark's labs, more than all of that - this meant something profound to him.
"I also thought," she said and that amusement was hinted at in her lilting Irish, "that it would be a nice subversive reference to the spacecraft from Alien."
He laughed out loud at that. "I love that movie, that's perfect."
He could feel her smile, then. "I know you do, Mother."
He slumped onto the stool at his table in the lab and finally asked his question. "Friday, can you tell me - why isn't the lab more different?"
"Different how?"
"Well it's just," he struggled to articulate the sentence, the feeling he was pulling at. "I was - gone - for five years. But it almost looks like this place never really changed?"
"I see," she said. "Boss spent a lot of time here after the Blip first happened, once he was home from Titan. He slept primarily on the couch in the corner and had me refill his coffee orders more than anything else. However, he never touched your things, Mother."
Peter frowned. "Why?"
"I could not say," she replied, tone ponderous. "Based on his patterns of movement, he seemed to specifically avoid your work areas. Though he did take a jacket you had left at her table to the couch. From my archival footage, he seemed to sleep with it, perhaps for warmth?"
It occurred to the teen, then, that Friday probably had thousands and thousands of hours of Tony on video and he could pull it to watch them at any time. The feeling of want was a fever in his blood and he asked, "Can you show me?"
"Of course, Mother."
Faint blue light lit up the couch and Peter walked over to it, seeing that more than merely just show him the video, she played it out in holographic projection. His breath hitched as Tony walked into view, Peter's hoodie in clutched in his hands. Staring down at it, he slumped onto the couch and brought the fabric to his face. Less breathing it in and more suffocating himself with it.
"I'm sorry," he heard muffled through Friday's speakers. "I'm so sorry, Pete."
Tony then curled up onto the couch on his side, face pressed to the hoodie, back toward the room. The projection cut off.
Peter didn't realize that he was crying until Friday asked, "Mother, are you okay?"
"I - " he tried to say, throat clogged with tears. "No," he admitted, jacket-covered wrist swiping away at his tears. He sniffled and sat where Tony had, finding his hoodie wedged between the cushions and the back of the couch. He pulled it out and, like Tony, smashed it to his face, breathing in the faintly lingering spicy scent of Tony Stark.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Friday said, speakers low, tone regretful. "I did not mean to cause you pain."
"You didn't, sweetheart," he shook his head, voice still clogged with tears. "I'm just sad."
"Why?" she asked, her natural curiosity shining through. Much like a child, she did not always know when it wasn't the right time to ask questions. But Peter had always liked indulging her and feeding her curiosity. The first few lab sessions they played 20 Questions back and forth until Tony would tell them both to shut up, though the amusement when he said it always shone through.
"I'm sad because Tony's dea - " he cleared his throat. "Because Tony - "
"It is okay, Mother," Friday cut him off. "I understand."
At that, he let himself fall back into the couch like Tony had. Above him, Friday dimmed the lights and stayed quiet, letting him cry out his grief in silence.
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pagansphinx · 3 months
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Wassily Kandinsky (Russian, 1866-1944) • Composition 8 • 1923 • Guggenheim Museum, New York City
Composition VIII was the artist’s first methodical application of his ideas about the relationship between colour and form and his understanding of their spiritual and psychological effects. This painting also marks the beginning of Kandinsky’s long connection with the circle. – Alix Rule, Britannica
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davbertieloml · 5 months
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The first official photo of King George VI's Family four days after His Majesty was proclaimed King
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King George VI, Queen Elizabeth, Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, 15 December 1936.
On 11 December, following the abdication of King Edward VIII, the Duke of York was proclaimed Sovereign, as King George VI. Realising that there would be a demand for photographs of the new Royal Family, not just at home but worldwide, a sitting was booked with Marcus Adams for four days after the accession.
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the6thofmay · 1 year
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paolo-streito-1264 · 6 months
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Len Prince. United States, b. 1953 Ford Model VIII Bathing Cap, New York City, 1991.
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