#New York School of Interior Design

[ashcan-studio]

Careers in the Arts - Interior Design - Career Opportunities and Accepted Art Portfolio Examples

In order to get into the Top Interior Design Programs in schools like CORNELL UNIVERSITY, SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY, Rhode Island School of Design RISD, PRATT, The School of Visual Arts SVA, PARSONS, NEW YORK SCHOOL OF INTERIOR DESIGN– (NYSID), and the Fas

Interior Design Career Opportunities & Art Portfolio Examples made by Ashcan Art Students who were Accepted into the Top Interior Design Programs Choosing to apply for an Interior Design BFA Program will open the door of extraordinary career opportunities for you.   With increasing construction projects in urban and rural globally, there is a growing demand for Interior Designers. If you’re…

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#art school #art school admissions #art school portfolio #interior architecture #Interior Architecture and Design #Interior design #Interior Design BFA #Interior Design School #New York School of Interior Design #portfolio preparation #portfolio preparation course

[uluvjay]

Fall in love with you- T. Zegras

Trevor Zegras x Best friend! Reader (feat. Quinn Hughes)

Summary: you knew Better than to fall in love with Trevor

Warnings?; angst, self-doubt, crying, asshole Trevor, cursing, Quinn comes to the rescue, this is extremely old and hardly proofread so I apologize for any errors!

Next part

—

You were Trevor’s best friend, your moms were best friends in collage leading to the life long friendship of you two.

You two had always been close even when he moved to Michigan for hockey you never drifted. He begged you to come to Boston with him for collage even though he only stayed a year and your had gotten into your dream school.

It was Trevor how could you say no?

That was a problem of yours never being able to tell him no. He wanted to go to a party even though you hated them? You went, wanted you to stay up late with him despite you having a big test the next day? You did it.

You always blamed it on the fact he was your best friend but everyone besides Trevor knew you were lying, they could all see how in love you were with him they just never brought it up.

The first person to call you out on those feelings was Quinn Hughes. Trevor had invited you to the Hughes lake house two summers ago where he constantly left you and was hardly even home most nights, usually with some random girl he met that day.

There had been an argument between you and Trevor, you blew up on him after he came home from another one night stand telling him if you knew you would be spending more time with the Hughes family and their other friends then him you wouldn’t have come in the first place.

He got offended saying he was allowed to have fun to even though that had nothing to do with what you were saying, after he stormed out of the room you were staying in you made the impulse decision to book a flight back to New York, and get the hell out of there but Quinn had caught you packing.

—-

“Hey you okay we heard you two yell- woah what’re you packing for?” He asked stopping himself mid sentence

“Im going home Quinn, thank you for opening your home to me I really appreciate it and you guys have all been so nice spending time with me while Trevor’s off with random girls every night”

“Wait, why are you leaving though? Did Trevor say something? I’ll go kick his ass right now if he hurt your feelings”

“No he didn’t I-I just can’t do this anymore, he begged me to come and of course I said yes like always just for him to pretty much say fuck me and leave me to be with some random girls who probably took pictures of him sleeping so they can post them an-“

“Your in love with him” he said cutting you off

“What? No Quinn, I’m not” you replied with a defensive laugh

“Don’t lie to me”

“Quinn I’m not”

“Cut the bullshit” he told you more stern shutting the door

“I’m not lying”

“Yes you are, I see the way you look at your phone when he lets you know he won’t be coming back, how you stare at the marks on his neck and back, how you stare daggers into all the girls that talk to him, the way your face lights up when he walks into a room, your in love”

“He can’t know Quinn, it’ll ruin everything” you told him looking down at your hands

“Hey, your secrets safe with me, but you can’t do this to yourself forever kid”

And that’s how You and Quinn also became best friends

—-

Fast forward two years and here you are back at the same Lake house in the same predicament. However over last summer you became good friends with most of the guys including Jamie and Mason who came with from Anaheim.

You Graduated from collage in May and got your degree in interior design, tonight Quinn and Jack were hosting you a small graduation dinner as they wasn’t able to attend your graduation along with some of the other guys.

You were standing in the Kitchen with Cole, Quinn, Jack, Trevor and Jamie who had all just come back from a workout.

“So Y/n you gonna come to Montreal and help me make my house look nice? I need some help decorating my shelves they don’t look good” Cole asked

“You can reach your shelves?” Jack asked causing everyone to laugh

“Shut up asshole” Cole replied

“Yeah Coley I’ll come help but I won’t be needing your stepladder I should be good” you said adding in to the joking

“You know what fuck all of you” he said walking off laughing

“Love you!” You called out laughing as well

“When he murders us all in our sleep I won’t be surprised” Quinn said causing everyone to let out light giggles

“Y/n what color you wearing tonight? I don’t wanna clash” Jack asked you

“You act like you won’t be wearing shorts and a random shirt ” you replied “but probably this white dress I bought a little while ago, I’m finally tan enough to wear it”

“You can’t wear white, the girl I invited is” Trevor blurted out looking at his phone

“Dude what the hell? I told you this was a lake house thing only, only the people staying here are allowed at the dinner, no extra invites” Quinn said getting a little pissed

“Aren’t your parents coming? Along with Luke, some of his friends, and y/n’s one friend? Why can’t my friend come”

“That’s our Family Z, they have a relationship with y/n and she knows Luke’s friends from them hanging around they’re like all madly in love with her” Jack said joining in

“Y/n’s fine with it right?” He said giving you the look he always did when he wanted something from you

“I’m not paying, it’s up to Quinn and Jack they organized the dinner” you said looking away

“Yeah so she’s not coming and if she for some reason does show up, she better not be in white, it’s Y/n’s night” Quinn said ending the conversation and walking out everyone else following besides you and Trevor.

“What the hell was that?” Trevor scoffed

“What?”

“You totally taking Quinn’s side!? Are you in a mood with me or something? Why can’t my friend come”

“Because I’m not paying Z, it’s not something i organized Quinn and Jack did, if I had it up to me we’d being having pizza and sitting around a fire not going to a fancy restaurant.” you told him growing a bit annoyed.

“Whatever” he mumbled stomping off.

—

Four hours later everyone was in a private room at some fancy restaurant in Michigan, in all it had ended up being You, The Hughes family, Cole, Mason, Jamie, Trevor, Dylan and Luca.

Trevor hadn’t spoken to you since earlier in the kitchen and hadn’t gotten off his phone since you guys had gotten to the restaurant.

Jamie and Mason had both said something to him multiple times but it just ended with Trevor giving both of them attitude.

You were talking with Ellen about the new things she had planted in their home garden when Trevor stood up and pocketed his phone walking out of the private room.

“Okay can I ask what the hell his problem is?” Ellen had asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I didn’t let him invite one of his little hookups and he got mad because Y/n took my side instead of giving in” Quinn explained.

“He hasn’t said a word to me since like noon either” Jack added.

“Okay this isn’t about him and let’s not make it about him, tonight is about Y/n and her achievements” Jim said shutting everyone up just in time as the food was being served.

Ten minutes later the door opened back up and in walked Trevor with a blonde girl.

You froze, was he serious right now? For one night he couldn’t listen and not go off and do what he wanted. You looked around and seen Jamie and Cole both rubbing their foreheads and looked next to you at Quinn who had his head titled back, then to your right to your best friend who looked like she was about to murder both Trevor and the blonde girl.

You returned to eating until you heard someone scoff and a chair scoot out, as you looked up you seen Jamie pulling Trevor out the room, leaving the girl in the room.

“And you are?” Ellen asked causing Luke and Jack to both let out slight laughs at how straightforward their mom was.

“Emma” she replied

“Mm” was all Ellen replied, she also knew about your feelings for Trevor

The door opened back up and in walked a pissed off Jamie which was a rare sight to see, and an annoyed Trevor.

“Everyone this is my girlfriend Emma” he announced and it got so quiet you could hear a pin drop as everyone looked from them to you.

Did everyone know about your feelings? Were you truly that noticeable when it came to how you acted around Trevor?

“Since when?” Mason asked

“Three months” Emma answered

Everyone just stayed quite, the tension could be cut with a knife and the amount of awkwardness was uncomfortable.

“I think it’s time to head home” you whispered in Quinn’s ear

“Yeah, I’ll go grab the check” he said getting up and walking out

“Where’s he going?” Trevor asked

“To get the Check” you replied

“Already? Is that what you whispered in his ear about? I’m not ready to leave you can’t just decide when we all leave Y/n”

“Well I’m ready to head home Trevor and it was my graduation dinner but you of course found a way to make the night about you” you snapped standing up and leaving.

—

Once everyone got home you went straight to your room and got changed into comfortable clothes, went down stairs, made a drink and went outback.

You were feeling a rollercoaster of emotions, you loved Trevor and he constantly hurt you but honestly it was your fault, you were the one that never told him how you feel how’s he supposed to know you wanna be the one in his bed every night?

You were also angry at him, how dare he pull the shit he did tonight at your graduation dinner of all things. You celebrated multiple achievements of his with him and never once made it about you, it just wasn’t fair.

You didn’t even realize someone had come outside or that you were crying until you heard someone ask you something.

“Huh?” You asked as you came back to your surroundings to see Jack sitting next to you.

“I asked why your crying”

“Oh it’s nothing” you rushed out wiping your tears

“Non of that Bullshit what’s up” he asked

“I love Trevor, no I’m in love with him, have been since I was 17”

“I know” he replied nonchalantly

“What?!”

“It’s not hard to notice y/n, your pretty bad at hiding it” he said with a laugh

“You don’t think he noticed do you..”

“No he’s to stupid” he told you laughing again

“Good, I just don’t know what I’d do if he found out I was in love with him, we’ve been best friends since we were born it would ruin everything.”

“You’re in love with me?” You heard the person that shouldn’t be asking that question ask it.

“Shit” you mumbled closing your eyes

“I’m gonna head back inside” Jack said getting up and patting your shoulder

“I asked you a question Y/n, please tell me you’re talking about someone else you’ve been friends with since kids.”Trevor said

“No it’s you, I love you” you said in a low voice

“What the Fuck” he said with a laugh

“I know, I know I’m sorr-“

“Sorry doesn’t cut it Y/n! Do you know what this is going to change? Everything! Our whole lives, every moment we’ve ever shared, it’s all different now”

“I know that’s why I never said anything, I knew you wouldn’t feel the same” you mumbled

“Damn right I don’t feel that way”

“Can you not be rude right now?, you listened in on a conversation you had no business hearing and now you know information that just ruined our friendship, I don’t need you being an ass”

“Why? Why me y/n?”

“I don’t know Trevor! I ask myself that every single day, why you, why my best friend? And I don’t have an answer ” you told him.

“You should have known better”

“It not like I wanted to fall for you Trevor, it’s not like I hoped and wished that I’d fall in love with you and ruin a 22 year long friendship.”

“We need space, I need space y/n I don’t know how to feel about this.” he told you

“I’ll find the next flight to New York tomorrow and be gone” you told him walking past him and into the house.

—

As you were laying in bed you heard someone knock on your door, “come in” you said with a hoarse voice from crying

“Hey I just wanted to check in, Jack told me what happened” Quinn said walking in

“It was so bad Quinny” you said breaking down again.

“No, don’t cry, it’ll be okay y/n” he said sitting next to you and rubbing your back

“I’m leaving tomorrow” you told him

“Why?”

“He said he wants space so I’m gonna go home, I think it’s for the better you know getting away from him”

“Don’t go home, let’s go somewhere”

“Where?” You asked with curiosity

“A beach?”

“That sounds nice”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” you said looking up at him with a smile

—-

Next part

#nhl #trevor zegras #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #9

March 9-15 2024

The IRS launched its direct file pilot program. Tax payers in 12 states, Florida, New Hampshire, Nevada, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Washington, Wyoming, Arizona, Massachusetts, California and New York, can now file their federal income taxes for free on-line directly with the IRS. The IRS plans on taking direct file nation wide for next year's tax season. Tax Day is April 15th so if you're in one of those states you have a month to check it out.

The Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights opened an investigation into the death of Nex Benedict. the OCR is investigating if Benedict's school district violated his civil rights by failing to protect him from bullying. President Biden expressed support for trans and non-binary youth in the aftermath of the ruling that Benedict's death was a suicide and encouraged people to seek help in crisis

Vice President Kamala Harris became the first sitting Vice-President (or President) to visit an abortion provider. Harris' historic visit was to a Planned Parenthood clinic in St. Paul Minnesota. This is the last stop on the Vice-President's Reproductive Rights Tour that has taken her across the country highlighting the need for reproductive health care.

President Biden announced 3.3 billion dollars worth of infrastructure projects across 40 states designed to reconnect communities divided by transportation infrastructure. Communities often split decades ago by highways build in the 1960s and 70s. These splits very often affect communities of color splitting them off from the wider cities and making daily life far more difficult. These reconnection projects will help remedy decades of economic racism.

The Biden-Harris administration is taking steps to eliminate junk fees for college students. These are hidden fees students pay to get loans or special fees banks charged to students with bank accounts. Also the administration plans to eliminate automatic billing for textbooks and ban schools from pocketing leftover money on student's meal plans.

The Department of Interior announced $120 million in investments to help boost Climate Resilience in Tribal Communities. The money will support 146 projects effecting over 100 tribes. This comes on top of $440 million already spent on tribal climate resilience by the administration so far

The Department of Energy announced $750 million dollars in investment in clean hydrogen power. This will go to 52 projects across 24 states. As part of the administration's climate goals the DoE plans to bring low to zero carbon hydrogen production to 10 million metric tons by 2030, and the cost of hydrogen to $1 per kilogram of hydrogen produced by 2031.

The Department of Energy has offered a 2.3 billion dollar loan to build a lithium processing plant in Nevada. Lithium is the key component in rechargeable batteries used it electric vehicles. Currently 95% of the world's lithium comes from just 4 countries, Australia, Chile, China and Argentina. Only about 1% of the US' lithium needs are met by domestic production. When completed the processing plant in Thacker Pass Nevada will produce enough lithium for 800,000 electric vehicle batteries a year.

The Department of Transportation is making available $1.2 billion in funds to reduce decrease pollution in transportation. Available in all 50 states, DC and Puerto Rico the funds will support projects by transportation authorities to lower their carbon emissions.

The Geothermal Energy Optimization Act was introduced in the US Senate. If passed the act will streamline the permitting process and help expand geothermal projects on public lands. This totally green energy currently accounts for just 0.4% of the US' engird usage but the Department of Energy estimates the potential geothermal energy supply is large enough to power the entire U.S. five times over.

The Justice for Breonna Taylor Act was introduced in the Senate banning No Knock Warrants nationwide

A bill was introduced in the House requiring the US Postal Service to cover the costs of any laid fees on bills the USPS failed to deliver on time

The Senate Confirmed 3 more Biden nominees to be life time federal Judges, Jasmine Yoon the first Asian-America federal judge in Virginia, Sunil Harjani in Illinois, and Melissa DuBose the first LGBTQ and first person of color to serve as a federal judge in Rhode Island. This brings the total number of Biden judges to 185

#Thanks Biden #Joe Biden #Democrats #politics #US politics #good news #nex benedict #abortion #taxes #climate change #climate action #tribal communities #lithium #electronic cars #trans rights #trans solidarity #judges

[octuscle]

I want to turn myself into a twinky fuck toy for a wealthy man. Can chronviac help me with that?

Well, as they say, everything's bigger in Texas… I'm a junior partner in a large New York asset management firm. We take care of the high net worth clients. To get into our client file, you have to have over USD 100 million in free liquidity. Our clients are demanding. But we are the best. And we do everything for our customers. Really EVERYTHING!

When I took over the clients of a colleague who had retired a month ago, I thought Chuck Tex was a stage name. Until I had my first appointment with him. His record was more than impressive. Heir to old oil and cattle nobility. Classic career of the Texas oil barons. School in New England, studied in Paris, Oxford and Zurich, founded his first start-up company at the age of 20. And sold at 25 for USD 500 million. Now in his mid-30s, he had not yet inherited a cent from his family, but thanks to his excellent education and connections, he had already amassed a fortune on a par with that of his old man. I expected… Actually, I had no idea what I was expecting… But I certainly didn't expect this:

Chuck looked like a porn star. Or a marriage fraud. Or just like a man who I couldn't wait to throw me on the bed and fuck me mercilessly. His handshake was firm, but finely dosed just before the pain threshold. His gaze could certainly cut through steel plates. But I was a professional, I kept my composure. After I asked him what I could do for him, he got straight to the point. First of all, he needed some cash for his stay in New York. USD 10,000 would be enough. Gladly 100 dollar bills. But hot off the press, please. That was no problem. I sent a short memo to my assistant and she would take care of it. But the real reason for his visit was a project in Greenwich Village. He had bought a few buildings there that he was renovating. His aim was to restore the Village to its former charm. That's why he wanted to create cheap apartments, studios and stores and eliminate expensive office space. The whole thing was not intended as an investment, more as a hobby. A kind of gay and creative Disneyland. I briefly wondered why I wasn't actually a billionaire… And then I asked Chuck what my role was. Whether I could help with the financing or with saving taxes.

Chuck just grinned. No, saving taxes wouldn't fit in with his understanding of patriotism. And he would have financed it all with his last start-up exit. But he would need someone to take care of the real estate. Someone to ensure the right tenant mix. Someone to give his studio apartment the right finishing touches. I briefly went through my network in my mind. I had a gay acquaintance who owned a number of bars and restaurants. And I also knew a good project developer. And one of my school friends was a hip interior designer. I smiled and said I probably had just the people he needed. Chuck smiled back. It made my heart stop. He didn't want anyone from my network. He wanted me. I was about to say that I was flattered, but that I wasn't available for such projects right now. But instead I said "Of course, Daddy". Did I want to accompany him to the construction site? "If I may, Daddy!" At that moment, my assistant came in with a bundle of freshly pressed banknotes. Chuck smiled and said he needed me for the rest of the day. Please cancel all my appointments. I nodded to her and followed Chuck like a dog to its master.

In his limousine, Chuck asked me if I had ever been to Texas. I answered in the negative. But the boots I was wearing looked authentic. Yeah, they were my pride and joy. But I wouldn't have ridden a bull yet. I shook my head and giggled like a schoolgirl. Chuck kneaded the bulge in his pants and said that I would definitely be fucked by a bull today. I only got out a "Thank you, Daddy". Chuck let me sit on his lap. He undid another button of his silk shirt and exposed his right nipple. Like a puppy on its mother's teat, I began to suckle. Chuck kneaded my bulge and said that I was a good boy.

The car came to a halt in the second row in front of an old brick building. The walls were covered in high-quality graffiti. There was a closed table dance bar downstairs and some kind of jewelry store upstairs. Some kind of jewelry on display. Made of stainless steel. On closer inspection, piercing jewelry, cock rings and stainless steel dildos. I looked in the shop window like a child in the window of a candy store. Chuck took my hand, pulled me into the stairwell and told me that I could choose something later if I was good. He stroked the long hair on the back of my neck. I love my Mullet. I look a bit like the young cowboys on Daddy's Daddy's farm.

We had just arrived at Chuck's empty apartment when I got down on my knees in front of him and unbuttoned his pants. "First you strip for me, boy," Chuck ordered. He tossed me a cowboy hat that was in a closet. "Everything but your briefs, boots and hat!". Eagerly awaiting the reward, I did everything I was told to do. "And now lube yourself up". He threw me a bottle. And I did as I was told. I could feel my hard-earned muscles disappearing. I felt younger and younger. Although it was hard as steel, my cock was getting smaller and smaller. "I think you need a little more decoration, boy," Chuck said and put a chain on me. Satisfied, he looked at me as I sat on the floor and could hardly wait for my reward.

Chuck took his boner out of his pants. And I leaned back in anticipation. I wanted to be a good houseboy. And today was the housewarming party.

Chuck's pic found @mensuited, yours @hellishin

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age reduction #top to bottom #twink tf #redneck tf

[deliciousangelfestival]

Cozy Secrets || Chp 3

Character: Spy!Bucky x Roommate!Reader

Summary: Y/N found herself at her high school reunion, accompanied by her unexpected fake boyfriend, who also happened to be a spy.

Chp 1 , Chp 2, Chp 3, -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

The days turned into weeks, and there was still no sign of Bucky returning home. Y/N continued with her life, focusing on her work as an interior designer. Today's agenda involved meeting a new client, Mr. Kensington, an eccentric aristocrat who had recently acquired a house in New York.

Y/N arrived at the grand mansion, its façade oozing opulence and mystery. The butler led her through the elaborate corridors adorned with priceless artifacts until she reached Mr. Kensington's study. The room was filled with antique furniture, rare paintings, and an air of sophistication.

"Ah, Ms. Y/N, delighted to meet you," Mr. Kensington greeted with a flourish. He was a distinguished man, dressed in impeccable attire that matched the grandeur of his surroundings.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Kensington," Y/N replied, taking a seat.

Mr. Kensington wasted no time in getting to the point. "I've heard of your extraordinary skills in interior design, particularly your ability to keep matters discreet. I have a rather unique project for you."

Y/N nodded, intrigued. "I'm all ears. What do you have in mind?"

Mr. Kensington leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a spark of excitement. "I need a secret vault hidden in my study. A concealed door, perhaps behind a bookshelf or a portrait. I trust you can handle such a task?"

A secret vault, Y/N thought, the intrigue deepening. She had designed various rooms and hidden spaces in the past, but this request added a layer of mystery she found intriguing.

"Of course, Mr. Kensington. Creating concealed spaces is my specialty. Do you have any specific preferences or themes for the hidden door?"

Mr. Kensington stroked his chin, contemplating. "I fancy the idea of a bookshelf that reveals the entrance when a particular book is pulled. As for the theme, surprise me. I enjoy the unexpected."

Y/N nodded, mentally noting down the details. "Very well. I'll start working on the design, and we can discuss any adjustments or additions as the project progresses."

"Excellent, Ms. Y/N. Money is no object, so spare no expense in ensuring the utmost secrecy and sophistication," Mr. Kensington declared with a sly smile.

As Y/N delved into the intricacies of the project, discussing potential materials, hidden mechanisms, and the overall aesthetic, she couldn't help but be drawn into Mr. Kensington's eccentric world.

Days turned into weeks as Y/N meticulously planned and executed the design for the hidden vault. Mr. Kensington, appreciating her dedication and creativity, granted her access to the entire mansion, including rooms filled with his vast collection of artifacts.

One day, while working in the study, Y/N felt a subtle change in the atmosphere. The workers seemed unfamiliar, and a hushed voice whispered, "Psst, it's me."

Startled, Y/N turned to see Bucky disguised as one of the workers. The realization dawned on her – Bucky had been undercover in Mr. Kensington's mansion all along.

"Y/N," Bucky greeted with a smirk, "Surprised to see me?"

A mixture of relief and curiosity washed over her. "Bucky, what on earth are you doing here?"

Bucky chuckled. "Let's just say, your client and I have a mutual interest in keeping things hidden."

Y/N's surprise at seeing Bucky in disguise quickly transformed into a mix of confusion and intrigue. As she absorbed the revelation that Bucky had been undercover, she couldn't help but wonder about the true nature of Mr. Kensington's secrets.

Bucky, maintaining his cover among the workers, approached Y/N with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "Fancy meeting you here, Y/N. Turns out, our dear client has more than just a penchant for eccentric designs."

Y/N, still processing the information, replied with a subtle nod. She had become accustomed to the unexpected twists in her life, but this one took the cake.

Bucky leaned in, speaking in a low voice. "There's a nuclear code hidden within Mr. Kensington's vault. My mission is to retrieve it, but the security here is tighter than I anticipated."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, realizing the gravity of the situation. A nuclear code – a high-stakes game that transcended the realm of her usual discreet designs. She glanced at the intricately designed vault, wondering how it concealed such a dangerous secret.

"So, what's the plan?" Y/N asked, her words measured and composed.

Bucky explained the intricacies of the security systems and the need for Y/N's expertise. Her task was to create a diversion, something significant enough to draw attention away from the vault, while Bucky maneuvered through the mansion in pursuit of the elusive nuclear code.

As Y/N immersed herself in planning the diversion, she couldn't shake the feeling of being caught in a web of espionage and secrecy. The mansion, once a canvas for her creative designs, had transformed into a labyrinth of hidden agendas and dangerous secrets.

The night of the operation arrived, cloaked in shadows and suspense. Y/N, clad in dark attire, executed the diversion with precision. A well-timed malfunction in the mansion's power grid created chaos, diverting attention and leaving the security team scrambling to restore order.

In the midst of the commotion, Bucky, still disguised as a worker, stealthily navigated through the mansion. His every move calculated, blending seamlessly with the chaos Y/N had orchestrated.

As Bucky approached the vault, the tension escalated. The intricate mechanisms of Y/N's diversion worked their magic, creating a window of opportunity for Bucky to access the vault without raising suspicions.

However, just as Bucky reached for the vault's hidden entrance, an unexpected voice echoed through the study. "What's going on here?"

Y/N, stationed strategically to monitor the situation, recognized the voice – Mr. Kensington himself, drawn to the scene of the disturbance.

Bucky froze, his disguise momentarily at risk. Y/N, acting on instinct, stepped forward, her voice calm and authoritative. "Mr. Kensington, there's been a technical glitch. We're working to resolve it. Please return to a secure area."

Mr. Kensington scrutinized Y/N for a moment, his gaze piercing. Yet, something in her demeanor convinced him to heed her instructions. With a reluctant nod, he retreated from the study, leaving Y/N and Bucky in the tense aftermath.

As the seconds ticked away, Bucky resumed his mission. The hidden door creaked open, revealing the vault's mysterious contents. The nuclear code, concealed within a secure compartment, awaited extraction.

With the mission accomplished, Bucky discreetly exited the study, merging back into the chaos of the diversion. Y/N, maintaining her composed exterior, discreetly observed his retreat.

Once the mansion returned to a semblance of normalcy, Y/N and Bucky reconvened in a discreet location. The weight of the mission lingered between them, unspoken words echoing in the air.

"Thanks for the assist, Y/N," Bucky acknowledged, his gaze a mix of gratitude and an unspoken understanding.

As he prepared to depart, a sincere expression of gratitude painted his face. Bucky enveloped Y/N in a heartfelt hug.

"Y/N, you're a lifesaver," he whispered, the weight of unspoken appreciation hanging in the air. With a nod and a final glance, Bucky disappeared into the night, leaving Y/N to navigate the aftermath of espionage and the echoes of a world she had unexpectedly become a part of.

Y/N returned home, the events of the covert operation still playing in her mind like a suspenseful movie. The intricacies of espionage and the clandestine world were not something she had ever imagined becoming a part of, yet here she was, entangled in the mysteries that unfolded beyond her interior design projects.

The next day brought an unexpected visitor to her doorstep. A woman dressed in black, exuding an air of mystery, stood on her porch. She introduced herself as Natasha, a member of the same agency as Bucky.

"Y/N," Natasha began, her gaze sharp and assessing, "you handled the situation with Mr. Kensington admirably. You have a knack for navigating high-stakes scenarios. We could use someone like you."

Y/N, still processing the surreal turn of events, regarded Natasha with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. The agency, with its covert operations and hidden agendas, seemed like a world far removed from her artistic endeavors.

Natasha continued, "You've proven yourself resourceful and discreet. We have a proposal for you – join our ranks. Work with us, and your skills won't be limited to interior design."

Y/N hesitated, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. The quiet life she had known, filled with designs and creative projects, now stood at a crossroads. The allure of the unknown, coupled with the desire to unravel the mysteries that had become intertwined with her life, tugged at her curiosity.

"What do you say, Y/N?" Natasha inquired, her expression unreadable.

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Chp 1 , Chp 2 , Chp 3 ,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

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[humansofnewyork]

“I was visiting a friend in New York. By then I was like bones; I was using all the time. And at some point she finally told me to leave. It was 5 AM. I had nothing but a hoodie, and it was negative degrees. In one hand was a bottle with 45 pills of Xanax. In the other was my cell phone, with my Mom’s contact open. It was either make the call or take the drugs. That’s when I got my higher power push. My friend came outside to see why I was still standing in front of her building. I said: ‘I’m talking to my Mom,’ and I quickly tapped the ‘call button.’ When she picked up the phone I broke down. I told her that she was right, and that I’d been using this whole time. I apologized for everything. She told me: ‘It’s ok, I just want to get you help.’ She bought me a flight home to California. It was five days of detox then straight to rehab. It’ll be nine months sober on Sunday. In a lot of ways I feel like a child again. I started using when I was twelve, so there’s a lot I never learned about being a person. I’m learning how to talk to people. I’m learning how to be bored. I’m going back to school; I never thought I’d be back in school again. My sister used to say that it never felt like she had a brother. But we’re closer now. That’s something to be proud of, for sure. Same thing with my parents. I used to never call my Mom. Or if I did, it was something negative: I need something, or I want something. Now I’ll just call her to see what she has going on. She tells me about her interior design stuff, or maybe a house that she’s trying to sell. I enjoy hearing about that stuff. My relationships feel real now. For the longest time, I wasn’t even a person. There was no Jake Black; it was just drugs. Now I’m actually a person. And that’s a big motivation to keep going to my meetings, and to keep picking up my phone. Because if I relapse now, it’s going to hurt everyone who’s gotten to know this side of me.”

[macrolit]

Do You Have ‘Bookshelf Wealth’?

A TikTok home-décor trend has irked some bibliophiles.

By Madison Malone Kircher

Published in the New York Times, Jan. 15, 2024

When it comes to aesthetic trends, social media loves a catchy name.

Cottagecore. Dark academia. Eclectic grandpa.

Now there’s a new entry to the canon: bookshelf wealth.

On TikTok and other digital platforms, there has lately been much ado about people who own a great number of books and — this is critical — have managed to stage them in a pleasing manner.

If you’ve ever seen a Nancy Meyers movie, the look might ring a bell. Warm and welcoming. Polished, but not stuffy. A bronze lamp here. A vintage vase there (with fresh-cut flowers, of course). Perhaps there is a cozy seating area near the floor-to-ceiling display, with an overstuffed couch topped with tasteful throw pillows.

Kailee Blalock, an interior designer in San Diego, posted a video to TikTok last month that sought to define bookshelf wealth and school viewers in achieving the aesthetic in their own homes.

“These aren’t display books,” Ms. Blalock, 26, cautions in the video, which has been viewed over 1.3 million times. “These are books that have actually been curated and read.”

This literary look, she went on to say, goes well with pictures hung willy-nilly on the walls, sometimes even partly blocking the shelves, as well as mismatched fabric patterns and a bit of clutter.

In an interview, Ms. Blalock expanded on her advice. “I think to really achieve the look and the lifestyle, someone has to be an avid reader and has to appreciate the act of collecting things, especially art and sculpture,” she said.

Though Ms. Blalock did not originate the term “bookshelf wealth,” her video has spurred plenty of online discussion. “The day I ‘cultivate’ books instead of buying what I like to read is the day I’ll know I’ve truly failed as a human,” one user commented. Others remarked how bookshelf wealth was less about reading and more about regular old wealth.

Breana Newton, a legal coordinator in Princeton, N.J., who posts regularly about books on TikTok, was one of the people who responded to Ms. Blalock’s video. “I am going to show you bookshelf wealth,” Ms. Newton, 33, says in a video of her own. “Ready?”

She then gives viewers a brief tour of her home, showing books everywhere — on shelves, in overflow piles here and there, and strewed across the bed. Absent is the sense that the rooms have been staged, or that the books were bought with the consideration of how they would look on Instagram.

In an interview, Ms. Newton said that she worried trends like bookshelf wealth encourage overconsumption. This year, she added, she is trying not to buy any new books.

Another critic of the trend, Keila Tirado-Leist, said in a reaction video: “Who does it benefit to constantly have to name and qualify and attach wealth to any kind of style or home-décor aesthetic?”

Ms. Tirado-Leist, a lifestyle content creator in Madison, Wis., likened bookshelf wealth to “quiet luxury” and “stealth wealth,” styles that have recently made social media waves.

Still, she was understanding that what drives a home-décor trend like this one is a desire to create a home that feels, well, homey. In another video, she described the idea of layering — that is, slowly acquiring pieces and building up to a finished look, rather than trying to buy a bunch of things all at once in an effort to chase a trend.

“Styling a home takes time,” Ms. Tirado-Leist said.

Another TikTok user put it more bluntly in a response to Ms. Blalock’s video: “Bookshelf wealth does not mean you have books. It means you have built-ins.”

Editors’ Picks

A Practical Guide to Quitting Your SmartphoneHow Sad Love Songs Tap Into the Chaos of DatingWhen WeightWatchers Ended In-Person Meetings, They Held Their Own

Madison Malone Kircher is a Times reporter covering internet culture. More about Madison Malone Kircher

#bookshelf #bookshelf wealth #tiktok #aesthetics #home decor #books #home library #new york times #madison malone kircher

[ereardon]

Golden Hour || Ch. 5

[Bob Floyd x Bradley Bradshaw x OC]

A Bob Floyd & Bradley Bradshaw AU [Hart of Dixie inspired]

Synopsis: Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x OC; Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Tropes: Love triangle, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, heart attack

Chapter summary: Bob and Olive fight about the partnership agreement for the medical practice; Olive and Bradley attend a Halloween party where one townsperson has a medical emergency

WC: 3K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

“It’s hot,” you groaned. “Halloween is not supposed to be hot. Halloween is supposed to be leather pants and cocktails and a chilly breeze on a rooftop on the Lower East Side.” 

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “Leather pants, really?” 

You shrugged. “College.” 

She opened the fridge, pulling out a container of orange juice and sliding you a glass. You held it out as she dribbled the liquid into your glass. “Halloween ‘round here is kids hopped on sugar and parents chasing them dressed as pirates and it’s still shorts season.” 

“Is it too much to ask for one cold day where I can wear sweats and eat cornbread and chili and watch a movie?” 

“Sweats, Doc?” she asked. 

“Cashmere sweats,” you clarified as Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Besides, what do people even do here on Halloween? People over the age of nine that is.” 

“Party at the Flannery House,” she replied. “They throw it every year.” 

“And the Flannerys are?” 

“Charlotte’s parents.” 

“Oh.” You hadn’t run into Charlotte since she walked into Breakers two weeks before, but rumors in town had been swirling about her return. One was that she was here to get Bob back. Another was that she was starting a dance studio in town. You had even heard she was planning to run for Mayor. 

“She’s a pill,” Phoenix said, “but the parties are legendary. You’ll be my date.” 

You laughed. In a matter of only a few months, you and Phoenix had fallen into an easy routine together. The town no longer despised you, and besides Bradley you even had a few regular patients. Bob was still the doctor of choice at the practice, but he had begun to relinquish walk-ins to you when necessary after the flu epidemic. “Is Bradley going?” 

Phoenix crossed her arms over her chest. “Should have known you’d only want to go to see Bradshaw. Yeah, he’s going. Everyone goes.” 

It had been a week and a half since your date with Bradley. He dropped you back at the guest house, the two of you lingering a moment on the sloped porch. “I’d invite you in,” you said softly, “but to be honest it’s a mess. Your house is way cuter, so I’d be embarrassed for you to see what I live like.” 

Bradley laughed, a deep throaty sound. “Next time, Doc.” 

“How about you give me your mother’s name if I need an interior designer?” 

“One date and you already want to meet the parents?” 

You grinned. “You’re cheeky. I like that about you.” 

“There’s a lot to like about you, Doc.” 

How long had it been since you kissed someone who wasn’t Peter? Years. How long had it been since you had done that sober? Even longer. You could feel the heat radiating from Bradley’s body. From several exams before you realized he was faking all illnesses, you knew for a fact that Bradley was well built. Surprising, for a lawyer. But then again, nothing about Willow had turned out like you expected. “Goodnight, Bradley,” you whispered, opening the creaky door. You held your breath. It had been years since you’d gone on a date. You no longer knew the etiquette. 

Bradley leaned in, sliding his lips gently across your cheek. His scent flooded your senses, and you resisted the urge to grab his collar, pull him in, lock your lips to his. But restraint took hold and as he pulled away, you smiled. “Goodnight, Olive.” 

***

“You’re where?” 

Lina’s voice was shrill and filled with shock. In all of the chaos you had neglected to tell your globe trotting best friend that you had packed up and left New York on practically a whim. “Georgia.”

“Like canned peaches, plantations, Coca-Cola, hillbilly truck driver, fried chicken Georgia?” 

You sighed, walking in a tight circle in the living room that doubled as a bedroom in the guest house. “Like small town Americana. It could almost be Lana-core if only it was set in Rhode Island instead of Willow.” 

“Willow?” That was a screech. “Like the fucking grandmother tree in whatever that movie was?” 

“Pocahontas,” you clarified. “And yes.” 

“Did you have a stroke?” 

“Peter left me.” 

“What?” You could hear the gasp through the phone. You could picture her perfectly: jet black hair swishing as she stopped dead from where she was doing the stair stepper in front of her window overlooking Fifth Avenue. “You’re shitting me.” 

“Nope.” 

“The ring?” 

“East River.” 

“Fucking christ, Livvy,” she said. “I’m sorry.” 

“Me, too. To think I wasted all those good years on him.” 

“He has a pig face you know,” she said. “I stuffed that comment down for years but now that we’re over him and he’s dead to us, I can admit it. He has a pig face and a medical degree from California.” The way she said California made you laugh. The utter disgrace of it. “You’re better off.” 

“Thanks, Lee.” 

“So are there men in Willow?”

“A few.” 

“Tell me everything.” You told Lina about Bradley and his dramatic attempts to get you to go on a date, and the reluctant dinner date at his house. She hummed along. “And what about this Dr. Bob?” 

“He’s surly,” you replied instantly. “But there’s something deep down that isn’t so bad,” you added. “I don’t know. He hates me I think.”

“Nobody hates you,” Lina said. “You’re the perfect angel baby.” 

“Peter hates me.” 

“He doesn’t hate you,” she replied. “He just didn’t respect you. And that should be enough to make you hate him. Because any man who can’t respect you doesn’t deserve even an afterthought.” 

“I miss you.” 

“I miss you too, sweetie,” she said. “I would say I’ll visit, but small town charm is good for some and slow painful death for others. I think you know which camp I fall into.” 

“You liked small when it was a village in Tahiti.” 

“I like small when it’s half-naked men carrying me on a daybed and feeding me smoothies,” she clarified. You laughed. “Anyways, I should go, Paolo is going to be here any moment. Love you Liv.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The line clicked and you sighed, tossing the phone onto a pile of silk pillows you had ordered. The room was a disaster, just like you had told Bradley: boxes from Bergdorf’s half opened, a pile of sheets that needed to be washed, your closet spilling out onto the floor in the corner. 

A knock on the door stirred you from your stupor. You frowned, gliding down the hallway and opening the door without looking at who it was. Bob stood wearing a pair of chinos and a short sleeved polo tucked into it. You felt severely underdressed in a pair of satin pajama shorts and a thin tank top that you were almost positive showed your nipples. You crossed your arms over your chest defensively. “Dr. Floyd.” 

“Dr. James,” he replied. “Is now a bad time?” 

“Only if you’re morally opposed to mess,” you said, opening the door wider. “Come in.” 

Bob stepped into the narrow hallway. Under the dim lighting of the broken fixture, he looked pale, a little drawn. He peered around the corner into the living room. “Sorry to impose.” 

“I’m still getting settled,” you admitted, grabbing a cardigan and yanking it on before brushing off a set of towels from the couch. “Have a seat. Want something to drink?” 

“If it’s not a bother.” 

“If you drink wine then it won’t be a bother. If you want water or something archaic then we’re all out.” You grabbed a mug from the cabinet to your right and the bottle of pinot noir you had opened earlier, slopping a few inches into the mug and handing it to Bob. He took it with an unreadable face, crossing one ankle over his knee. “How can I help you?” 

“My father is quite ill,” Bob said and that’s when you realized what was written all over his features but unsaid until that moment. 

Fear. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

He nodded solemnly. “And as part of his estate, I’m working on finalizing the details for our medical practice.” 

“Ours?” 

“Mine and my father’s,” he corrected. You nodded. “But it’s my understanding that when he offered you the position, it came with a partnership. Is that correct?” 

“Yes.” You had a flashback to the first time you had bumped into Bradley on your first day in Willow. The paperwork that had scattered at your feet, partnership in large block letters across the top. 

“Do you have that in writing?” 

“No.” You took a sip of wine and folded onto the couch seat next to Bob, feet tucked up beneath your butt. “Just a verbal agreement.” 

His lips pursed into a fine line. “That’s what I thought.” 

“What?” you asked, eyebrows knitted together. 

“According to my attorney, that’s not legally binding in the state of Georgia, so I have no requirement to uphold it.” 

“Your attorney?” you asked. “You mean Bradley.” 

“Bradley Bradshaw is my attorney, yes.” 

“Mine, too.” 

Bob frowned. “Not possible. We can’t have the same attorney on a case as plaintiff and defendant.” 

“First off, since when is this a court case? Secondly, you can’t call dibs on the only lawyer in town.” 

“Go to Atlanta or Macon.”

“You go to Atlanta!” 

“Bradshaw has been my lawyer for a decade,” Bob countered. “Besides, he’s handling my father’s estate.” 

“What estate?” you scoffed. “Three pencil erasers and an old Lincoln Continental?” 

“It’s a Subaru Forester.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously, Floyd, are we going to fight over this?” 

“If by this you mean my medical practice, then yes,” he answered. “This is my life’s work, Olive. It’s all I’ve ever known. And it’s mine.” 

“It was promised to me, too.” 

“Why the hell would you want it?” he demanded, eyes blazing. “You’re a New Yorker. You don’t belong here and you never will. Why are you pretending you’re planning to stay?” 

His words cut. The truth was, you had nowhere else to go. Three months ago you hadn’t known Willow existed. Now, it was the only place that knew who you were. The only place that might miss you when you were gone. 

Bob stood up, placing his mug of wine untouched on the table. “This was a mistake,” he said. “Coming here tonight. I should have just done this at the office.” 

You scrambled to your feet, cardigan falling from your fingertips, exposing your sheer top. Bob’s eyes traveled down and his cheeks blushed, hard. You stood your ground. “What can I do to convince you that I’m here for good?” 

“I don’t know, Olive,” Bob said softly, turning toward the door. “All I know is I’m running out of time to figure this out. And I can’t wait around to see if you’re going to hold up your end of the bargain.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

Bob opened the rickety front door and stepped outside, one large hand on the knob to stop it from closing. He turned back, his eyes locked on yours. “We’ll see about that.” 

***

“I look ridiculous.” You tugged on the hem of your white nurses uniform dress. “I can’t believe you convinced me to wear this.” 

“It’s hilarious,” Phoenix said, stepping out of the car in a pair of form fitting jeans. “You’re dressed as a nurse but you’re really a doctor. It’s theatrical.” 

“It’s slutty.” 

“Sorry to admit it, Olive, but your regular outfits aren’t much better.” 

“Hey!” 

She laughed. “Sorry Doc.” 

“How come you get to wear pants?” 

“I’m Beth Dutton,” she said, frowning. “You know, cowgirl shit.”

You shook your head. “I could have worn pants.” 

“Be happy you’re hot,” Phoenix said, linking her arm in yours and tugging you toward the front door. 

The Flannerys house was what you’d expect old Southern money to look like. It was essentially Tara, minus the carrot. Giant white pillars holding up a roof over a wide wraparound porch. Enormous jack-o-lanterns peppered the stairs on either side, faux spider webs hanging from the pillars, lights illuminating all of the windows inside as music pumped through the house. You looked over at Phoenix with wide eyes. “This is a house?” 

“This is Poe’s Run,” she said. “Been in the Flannery family for two hundred and fifty years.” 

“Jesus,” you whispered under your breath. “And Floyd gave up marrying into this because?” 

“For his sanity,” Phoenix said. “Charlotte is a certified psycho.” 

“Oh yeah, that.”  

“Just stick with me and you’ll be good,” Phoenix said as the two of you reached the bottom of the long white staircase. You milled around couples and groups, Phoenix smiling and nodding as you passed. The chill that had accompanied your arrival in Willow was dwindling, and there were even a few nods in your direction, a handful of grins. 

“Doc!” 

“Marvin,” you said with a smile. “How’s the leg?” 

He pulled up the hem of his pants from his pirate’s costume to showcase a five-inch scar. “All better.” 

You bent down, examining it visually. “No swelling or redness. No infection.” You straightened up. “Looking good. You’ll come see me if you see any changes though, right?”

“You got it.” 

A hand skimmed over your low back. You turned, eyes wide. Bradley tipped his cowboy hat. “That’s a mighty short dress you got on, Doc.” You blushed. “Almost saw something only an OBGYN should see when you bent down there.” 

“Oh, Jesus,” you muttered under your breath. Phoenix laughed. 

“I see you’re in good hands,” she replied with a wink. “Going to get myself some of Lacey’s famous punch.” 

“Watch out,” Bradley warned as Phoenix made her way through the crowd, “don’t forget about Halloween 2013!” 

“Shut up!” she cried, disappearing into the crowd. 

“What happened Halloween 2013?” you asked as Bradley led you to the outskirts of the room and plucked a glass of champagne off of a tray. 

“Phoenix got so drunk she ended up serenading Mr. Flannery on top of the grand piano like Marilyn Monroe to JFK.” 

“God, I’d pay money to see that.” 

“Just slip her some vodka and you’ll see it.” 

“Deal.” Bradley’s hand didn’t move from your waist as you looked up at him, sipping your drink. It fizzed on your tongue. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” He said it in such a sincere way that it made your heart squeeze. 

“Bob came to see me the other day. About the partnership.” 

Bradley’s hand fell from your waist. You watched as his professional persona washed over him, like a transformer, bit by bit until he was in a plastic shell of an attorney. 

“He said the deal I had with Dr. Floyd Sr. isn’t valid.” 

Bradley sighed, setting down his glass onto a nearby table. “That’s correct. In the state of Georgia, verbal contracts are not binding.” 

“Bradley,” you whispered. “I moved here for this job.” 

“I know you did.” 

“What am I supposed to do?” 

He shook his head. “I can’t provide any guidance because I’m not your counsel.” 

You set your champagne glass down, pulling out your purse and yanking a twenty out of it, shoving it into your hand. “There, now you’re my lawyer.” 

“Not that simple, Olive,” he said, pressing it back into your palm. “I’m already retained by the Floyd family. I can’t represent you both.” 

“You’re the only lawyer in this whole fucking town, Bradley!” Your raised voice and the cursing caught the eye of a few nearby people who craned their heads at the commotion. 

“I’ll find you someone,” he promised quietly. “A few of my friends from law school ended up around here. I’ll find you an attorney, I promise.” 

You frowned. “OK.” 

“Let’s leave this for Monday,” he said. “It’s your first Halloween in Willow. Don’t you want to see what all that small town charm is about?” He held out his hand and you took it reluctantly, letting him pull you out into the middle of the room that had turned into a makeshift dance floor. It was easy with Bradley. He folded you against him, one large hand spread across your lower stomach, his other pressed against your hip as you swayed against him, the curve of your ass molded softly to his front. He was tall, so damn tall, and you could feel the heat from every inch of his body. And even though you had resisted his charm for months, the walls were starting to crumble. “Doc,” Bradley whispered in your ear, his fingertips gripping your waist tighter, pressing you against him so close. 

“Hmm?” 

Just as Bradley was about to spin you around, a commotion broke out at the far end of the room. Bob appeared dressed in a flight suit, a look of calm panic on his face. His eyes scanned the crowd before zeroing in on you and he stepped forward, taking in the way you were pressed against Bradley. “Dr. James,” he said and you could hear it in his voice. 

You stepped forward, out of Bradley’s embrace. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s Mr. Flannery,” he said quietly. “He’s having a heart attack.” 

“Fuck,” you whispered, already mentally preparing yourself. 

Bob held out his hand. “This way.” You allowed him to press his hand to your back softly, propelling you forward through the crowd, leaving Bradley in your wake. 

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[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 4

A Homelander X F! Reader and Dadlander fanfic.

A/N: if ya like to be taglisted plz leave a comment to be notified on the next release. got the writers block and too many wips so here is an early chapter. hope y'all like it. plz check my pin post for prev. chapters.

Tags: mild gore, angst, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Four

Seeing Stars

You had him agree to you working three days as his personal chef, and he couldn’t have you Sundays no matter how much he asked.

Within the week you had gotten a letter from your bank telling you that the pending investigation on your account had been closed and now you could access it, it had even accrue significant interest after being untouched for seven years it was better than an early christmas miracle as you sobbed in your bedroom with the letter in hand, you cried in the kitchen after calling a realtor to see an apartment, by the time you seen a couple of apartments you had come home to find an enveloped taped to your door. Inside paperwork and some keys– seeing red for a moment, but as Helena tugged at your shirt, your anger tucked itself away, you held her crying into her shoulder as you finished reading the letter.

Before the month ended, you had moved into a large, renovated and well located 2 bedroom, 1 office, 2 bathrooms apartment in the ground floor of a duplex, it had to be at least eighteen to twenty thousand dollars in rent but he had simply purchase it– writing in his letter that he wouldn’t allow you to continue raising his daughter in the projects or some refurbished new york closet, he had even collected information on local schools in your new neighborhood for you consider, informing you that he would take care of tuition cost.

As you settled in a space so big you had nothing to fill it with, as you watched your daughter actually behave like a seven year old for once, you laid on the floor by the open concept kitchen, feeling the rich wood underneath your skin, staring at the black granite benches and hardwood cabinetry– the floor was even heated! You heard a landing in one of the two thin yards, you knew your daughter was exploring the bathroom, so it felt safe to do this now.

“I’ll have my interior designer come by this week to help you select furniture and stuff.” He said upon entering, distubed by how barren it was, all your belonings in a a dozen boxes total, tucked in a corner of the living room.

“You are a bastard making me indebted to you.” You grumbled.

“I can’t have her live in a broom closet infested with rats. Kids need yards and space.” He looked at the cherry wood panels lining the outdoors, the vines and trees growing in a decent sized yard, extra big by New York standards– you could get her a puppy, a kitten or…?”

“She likes fish.”

“I could have a pond installed.” he said with a smirk crainign his back as he tried to look less imposing as you refused to lift your head from the heated hardwoods– you should be okay with utility bills, I left them on credit for your convenience. Have you had a chance to look at schools?”

“What are you actually planning, John.” You sat back up, switching names had taken him off-guard wondering what angle you were going at him from– haven’t even started work with you and now you are showering me with presents? This is beyond just wanting to see your kid is not like you actually seen her.”

“You said to take things slow.” He didn’t try hiding that devious grin– Ryan… needs a story.”

“Jesus Christ you are sick.” you now had to stand up for real– you want me to play mom to your kid? I don’t even look like him.”

“Genetics are weird. Helena looks like you and Ryan looks like me, like those dogs from ‘Beauty and the Tramp’."He touched your cheek with a bare hand– Can’t wait to see you next Thursday, mom.”

“Oh god…” You chuckle, losing your mind as his hand hurts without a scratch– How are you going to tell this to Helena?”

“Is in early development but the team will take care of it. I need Ryan to attend the same school as Helena so please hurry up.”

He left not before telling you to take Helena to MOMA this saturday at 2 pm, it wasn’t a suggestion or invitation, it was an order

You did as you were told that evening, one of the best schools in the city was under a half hour walk from this cell, knowing Helena had to be enrolled soon didn’t help, and your commute to Lucci had increased but now you could pay for gas and not cry. Sending him a texts about schools to the number he had given you in his many many notes seemed anticlimactic but that was it.

Helana had grown suspicious, but she played dumb and you knew it too, so you both played stupid when you headed to MOMA that weekend.

You just casually came the same day and the same time as Homelander and Ryan were about to have the whole museum closed off as they received a private tour,  but he asked you to join them not giving any real explanation for why but nobody questioned, neither kid spoke to each other much if any, Helena simply enjoying the silence, she looked at you as she asked about the pieces but it was Homelander who had the most to say about the works, leaving you left out but happy, you knew that face of his so well, to see it on your daughter’s face made your day.

He had taken the opportunity to discuss your employment not your relationship, giving you list of things Ryan should eat, would not eat, wanted to try and things he wanted to try himself, then your hours and some odd request about handling Ryan’s school lunches being instagram worthy, handing you socials to research for such task.

You started work that following week, the Vought kitchens were top of the line, your job was to meet all of his requirements, some of the chefs that recognized you looked at you with relief and curiosity, wanting to know what had happened to you but you were unwilling to share. That first breakfast was returned with clean plates, even the waiter was shocked when he saw empty plates come out of his penthouse.

It had been so long since you could play with such new equipment, this was it, this was the place you belong in, him or not involved this was your happy place now.

Two weeks had passed.

 As you headed for the staff elevator you met Homelander, who had honestly just been waiting for you.

“I got the paperwork sorted… you just have to sign and fill stuff. Nice school! Great stem program not that Helena will find it hard.” he said politely, his posture extra stiff.

“Did you do a background check on her?” you looked around for witnesses.

“Hard not to. Our kid is the captain of the math club… her school team has won most of the math competitions in the last four years. Not to mention the piano recitals, and science competitions”  He looked so proud– her grades are perfect. She might be the smartest little girl in the city.”

“She’s the smartest little girl in the world.”

“And her new school would let the whole world know just that.” He said matching your smug.

You watched him carefully waiting for him to spit out what he wanted to say, either about her schooling or something else.

Helena was allowed to continue attending her old school until you were ready for transfer, he had only briefly talked to you for school discussions, and with great disinterest on what made each school good or not, if anything you found yourself doing this for his son as well, thinking of what this school would do for his well being, and if it was the best choice for a homeschooled kid, and how would this new school commute affect Helena’s after school routine. 

On the days you didn’t work in Vought’s towers she was still babysat or stayed at Lucci’s, she was too young to be left at home, even if you knew she was perfectly safe, but no matter what she was still little. 

During the days you worked in the tower she was kept in the company daycare in the 20th floor, most of the kids there were normal but there was at least one other super-abled child her age, it made you happy to see her interact with a similar kid even if said kid abilities involved phasing thru objects all willy-nilly and make objects phase thru other objects, making you worry of what would happen if he lost focus and Helena got caught inside a wall.

“By the way our kid escaped the daycare.” He held the elevator open for you as he entered, before you could panic he shot you a charming smile– is okay she’s at the gym…”

Your eyes had welled up regardless, you jumped into the metal box pressing the bottom frantically.

“She’s perfectly safe… A-Train is there and so it's that… Noir… her and the only little Supe kid decided to do some mischief, but I kept my ears on her all day.”

Forcing yourself to take deep breaths as the elevator smoothly traveled to the lower floors.

“Is it not her that I am worried for.” you said firmly.

You followed him as he guided you through an unfamiliar floor, inside the large colosseum gym that had been fitted to test somebody’s athletic skills you found your daughter floating in her wavy bubble, but all you saw was your kid swaying in the air.

“Helena get down here immediately!!!” You ran after her reaching for the kid as her bored expression was replaced with embarrassment as she descended into your arms– you cannot run away from daycare!”

“I don’t want to be surrounded by babies.”

“Helena you are a baby!” you squeezed her against yourself, just glad she was still in one piece, you noticed the other small kid in the room– jesus…”

Carrying your kid you reached for the other one, taking his hand.

“Hey sweetie… let me take you back to daycare before your mommy or daddy gets worried.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked meekly.

“No, but Helena is so grounded.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t mom me! You have any idea how dangerous that was!”

“Oh don’t get mad at the kid, she was just acting like a kid. Don’t be such a buzzkill” he mocked you.

“I don’t want or need your opinion– now you got two seconds to explain yourself!”

You began to gently drag yourself and your kid’s victim out of the gym, A-Train absolutely shocked to see anybody talk to Homelander like that.

“Look I had A-Train and Noir come check them out, they were safe!” He chased after you.

“Oh that was your doing.” Helena said–  "I really wanted to meet A-Train” she waved innocently at the Supe, who returned the gesture as a true professional– and... Mom… I wanted to see the building, that’s all… sorry I used Elmo to escape… but his powers were just too useful”

“You cannot use people like that.” you said in shock.

“People like being used.” Her words were just cold as she wriggled herself out of your arms, falling without touching the ground, she took Elmo’s hand taking the small kid towards the exit– some people are born serfs.” She mumbled to herself.

Homelander's heart beat violently– oh his daughter was a brat and had a questionable attitude, he hadn’t even interacted much with her, but he was proud. His whole body went light and his smile couldn’t be contained as he saw the small girl with true love in his eyes, this was the moment he saw her as truly his own.

Ryan was still reluctant to accept his father’s philosophy, but this little one understood that she was born better from the start on her own.

She turned around to face you again, little Elmo sucked on his thumb as her eyes glowed pale blue.

“Is it alright if I come to the training gym if I ask permission first?” 

“I…”

“Of course all Supe’s should know to keep their powers top notch. You are more than welcome to use the facilities.” Homelander had cut you off, petting the little girl’s head as he approached the duo– Just ask your mother so she doesn’t have a heart attack. Then again this is one of the safest places in all of New York and little Helena over here is perfectly safe, after all I am here.” He said while staring at you.

His voice was sweet, you were defeated as Helena tried to contain that cheshire grin of hers while staring at you– he was your boss , and the Homelander so could you really go against him so publicly?

“You had a terrorist attack in this building… but I guess…” She ignored him again then looked straight at you– I learned something new today.” 

A-Train and Noir exchanged concerned looks taking a few step backs, Homelander seemed intrigued to watch your reaction, you gave way, unable to speak, just frustrated as your ex looked just as smug as his kid.

Little Elmo scoot behind her– in the round gymnasium a cement boulder hanged in chains, her eyes glowed the brightest you’ve ever seen, lifting her hand with one quick swipe the boulder broke in half, the dust showing the invisible blade bending light, it gain a blue color as it was touched before fading, she looked so proud of herself, you stared at Homelander and now you understood why nobody had informed you that your daughter was missing. It didn’t sit well with you.

“you’re still grounded for a whole week.”

“But Mom!!”

You had walked into a trap, one you did so willingly, jailed in a nice house, any hope of Homelander being driven away or losing interest in her was gone as he looked at her with pure adoration in his eyes.

You got used to it… this prison was lovely, it was nice to come back to a spacious cell. Homelander had indeed brought his decorator to your house but you didn’t want designer furniture and high end stuff, you kept it simple and cheap, most of your stuff second hand and from Ikea, only relenting to agree with the poor designer over the kitchen, his budget was absurd for the task, only taking advantage to purchase all the appliances of your dreams, you indeed needed a air fryer that matched your splashback.

Helena was happy to have a room that felt like a bedroom, large bookcases that could be filled with her own books, a small courtyard facing her doors, where she now could sit down and read with the breeze in her hair. She seemed happy, euphoric when she began her new school, making you forget what was happening in the background at times.

Homelander would come from time to time to speak to you about mundane stuff and work, his patience saintly as he allowed you to get used to his company once more, just so you could be okay with him entering her life, but then again he was your jailer.

He himself had begun forcing himself into her life when you weren’t around, it was all a matter of timing and perception.

Homelander watched the daycare center, from afar, a much needed service, it occupied a whole floor, the tower employed thousands of people in its 99th floor so there had to be help for those mothers and fathers who needed to work but had children with no babysitters, it was one of the many appealing things about being employed by Vought, and the center offered a variety of activities for all age groups.

Helena saw it as a jungle, all these children just a bunch of savages, keeping Elmo around not because she liked his company but because he was the only other Supe child in her age group, he was a sweet kid, afraid of bugs and that liked to talk about cartoons, frankly it was a challenge to figure out what to do with him. Homelander watched as she taught the kid to play chess, taking hours to explain the basics as the seven year old had very little clue what was happening, but in its own way it was nice to talk to another kid like himself.

Homelander even bothered to do a background check on the child– both of his dad’s both worked at Vought one in hero management and the other in marketing, both very busy bees it seems… he had done the same with all of Ryan’s new classmates, he knew their entire families before his kid even stepped foot and said hello to any of them, all done before he started school the same week as Helena– there was the big issue of her being on the 10th grade while her older brother just began the 6th grade, so he couldn’t enjoy seeing the both of them interacting, it was hard to witness for he wanted both kids to become closer so desperately.

Hence why he was standing on the foyer of the daycare center, a young lady that looked too cheerful for her own good, welcomed Homelander.

“Hi! How can I help you today, Homelander? Are you looking to enroll little Ryan?” She swayed side to side trying to see if the kid was behind him by any chance.

“Actually… am here to speak to one of the kids… hmm… Helena L/N.” He said with a firm tone– I believe her mother left a message.”

Homelander texted you an hour before cominf down, not even asking you that he was going to take her for training, you were stuck in the kitchen helping with some work function taking place tonite, a thousand canapes had to be made and you were stuck with the pistachio and lemon layer cakes.

You had no time to argue, taking your precious break time to make phone calls and try not to use your knife on the nearest asshole who pissed you off afterwards.

She hopped on the desk seeking for any notes, and he was indeed correct.

Now he had her all for himself, you prayed he wasn’t going to drop the news on her, but you couldn’t leave and abandoned your team, she was safe, you had to believe she was safe, she was smart, she was so smart and she could escape him, you just had to trust her.

“Can I bring Elmo?” Helena looked up at Homelander, a slight ache building on her neck as she looked up at the man– he might get lonely.”

“He’s not a dog.” He didn’t even try putting on a soft babied voice with her– and I wanted to talk to you.”

“But he’s always ‘The Dog’ when we play house.” She faked the most innocent voice she could muster, turning around to look at the glass doors  dividing the friends– … He will probably sneak out to the gym if he gets lonely, they got his favorite snacks today… he told me liked five times and I think they’re playing Bluey on the tv.”

“Oh! and you play mommy?” He grimaces so hard his eyebrows touch.

“No, the robber.”

He led the way and she was more than happy to explore the building as they headed downstairs.

“What do you think of them?”

“Elaborate.”

“Those without powers.” she wished she could see his expression– and be honest. None of this ‘Wednesday Addams’ crap.”

He looked around at the sea of smart casual fits and stress on the floors above, the world moving so fast paced, nothing but monkeys hurling shiny rocks while playing dress-up.

“They can be useful, if they are not… then they don’t matter to me.”

He smiled, his heart fluttering and his stomach filled with butterflies as he heard her speak– why did Ryan struggle so much to understand this? He thought.

“When you are born with such gifts–

“I might be a kid but I am very familiar with your Compound V, I already had this talk with my mother. Fascinating stuff… I am still trying to understand the whole dosage thing… How does your company decide which kid to give more versus others? Did they just look at who could provide the best backstory before deciding between 10 mils versus the whole vial.” 

She stared at the glass walls where the kids were housed, the tone of her voice still flat.

“Why you say that?”

“I’m a poor kid from the projects, with a single mom, formerly homeless and now with enough powers to make Athena envious. Not to mention how 92% of supes are white but the percentage below middle class to poor is almost the same as with the 6% blacks, while the percentage of upper class white supes is closer to the same percentage of 2% asians and latino supes… if anything a good chunk of latino and asian supes are upper class… something-something model minority yadah-yadah.” she pressed the elevator door– I’d make a good story. Shame that I can’t be a Supe.”

Homelander stared at her, placing his hand on the back of her head.

“You can be anything you want, Helena. You have been blessed beyond belief with powers… if you want to be Supe then you are ready for major leagues.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Only the 1% of superheroes ever make it to the major leagues, most supes never achieve anything beside D-list status and everybody is fighting for the crumbs left behind by your posse of clowns– is not a fiscally responsible decision. A career that can only exist on extreme gambling is not one that can make money. Not to mention am not cute or tall." She took the first step into the elevator– I never want my mother to worry about money. I want to buy her a mansion on top of a cliff staring at the ocean, have a dozen maids care for the house and she can just spend the rest of her life in luxury”

She turns to see him crossing her arms with a serious look on her tiny face.

“My goal is to take your job.”

“The Seven?” He grinned.

“Vought.”

“I can wait to see you try.” he grinned.

“It won’t be that hard… At least when I am in charge security will be tighter.”

Bottles of V dropped from above Homelander’s head, he caught most of them but a few were lost, those were hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of drops staining his pants and shoes, Helena caught one bottle, sliding it between nimble fingers back and forth.

“Don’t look so surprised, it seems this is a common occurence… Here's an unwanted tip: use biometrics and only allow lab techs to enter the 67th floor, not just rely on good will, clown.” sections of her body and clothes flicked back and forth between visible and invisible, taunting him about how easy it had been to steal them using her superpowers.

As his eyes took an extra tinge of red, he saw a brief flash of pale blue encasing her, he followed her to the entrance of the Gym, where she expected to be left alone with Homelander not to find another kid.

“The prodigal son.” she mumbles.

Ryan sat on top of some raised stepping stones in the recently established obstacle course, Helena imagined she needed to know parkour in lieu of flying abilities, which seemed redundant for the kid who could fly.

“Thought you two could practice together.” He shouted while placing the V on the nearest bench.

“Guess there are ways to successfully murder a child and get away with it.” She raised an eyebrow– and here I thought you wouldn’t be irked by the words of a little girl… like I said you’re a maladjusted person.”

“I don’t hurt children. I have no idea…” he said calmly while a little bit angry, as he returned to her side.

“I dunno– it would look really bad if the press found out that you’re a deadbeat.”

His expression dropped as the little girl's eyes glowed.

“Smartest little girl in the world… or...?” She said dryly, as she headed towards Ryan to save him the walk– my bubble refracts light, easy to spot if you notice images are wavering without the heat.”

The little boy ran cheerfully after his father, who for the first time ignored him, his eyes transfixed on the little girl, who had been playing stupid all along.

taglist-- @fromforeigntofamiliarity , @demodemo909 and @immyowndefender

here's the house:

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x f!reader #the boys oc #homelander fanfiction #personal #my fic tag #my writers block is criminal but thx god i had this chapter and 2 more ready #new york city rentals are fucking insane y'all paying too much-- had to look at them for reference for this fic so am more than glad to pos #a link to the 18K a month house that homelander bought for you dear reader #btw am living in australia so i might not know how yall pay utilities over there #took inspo from the diabolical first ep where they ahd an adoption centre as one of the floors of the tower to make the daycare #american royalty

[nantes5]

Love this video of Sherri talking about Shawn!

💔      💔      💔      💔      💔  

Apologies for poor quality, quick transcript below for anyone that needs it;

One of the things I remember mostly about Shawn was his ..... it’s not even wrestling related. We had a show in Philadelphia that night. We flew out from New York and Shawn didn't go to Philly. Shawn went to Atlanta airport and then to Tampa. He was going to watch his wife graduate. She had been to interior design school and she was graduating. But he, what he did, he didn't have a tie. He's going through the Atlanta airport and he bought a tie. He walked up to this guy in a suit and said "Sir you look like you know how to tie a tie, my wife's graduating, will you please help me?" So the man helped him and he made the graduation and he made it back to the arena that night. Well since he got ..... he proceeded to come to the dressing room, and he came into the room and he always liked the satin on my gloves, so he was always doing this (makes gesture on arm rubbing fabric). So I always made sure to carry an extra glove for Shawn so he could carry it around. ‘Cause when he was a baby I think his Mom had satin in his crib, he just liked the feel of it. And he would always be doing this (rubbing fingers together). (Unaudible)...... proceeded to tell me that he had been to his wife's graduation and about the guy in the airport tying his tie. It was just amazing, Shawn, Shawn just had, he I think probably still has, so much love inside of him for the wrestling business and I think that is quite evident from his recent comeback.

#shawn michaels #hbk #sherri #sherri martel #sensational sherri #wwe #wwf #husband #too cute #gloves #satin #tie

[michygranger23]

Hello!! I bring to you the second part of the Spider-people to get to know them better!! Hopefully I'll continue the discduo one later today or until tomorrow. ALSO!! If you have any ideas for any of the outfits for the Spider-people I'm up to hear them!! I already have some ideas but I'm up to hear other's opinions. Anyways ONTO THE RAMBLE!!

(Part 2/2)

Spider-Nihachu "Spider-Aqua" (Earth 0311001)

Nihachu is a 21 year old woman who recently moved to New York (she used to live in Brooklyn) who shares an apartment with Minx (they're best friends from a long time and get along really well). She works at a bakery alongside Ranboo (who is a student). Tommy and Tubbo are regulars at the place to come eat some sweets and talk with the both of them (Ranboo and them are classmates)

Niki was bitten by a radioactive spider while swimming in a pool near an Alchemax building when she went to practice there. Minx never knew about the secret since Niki never wanted to put her in danger.

Her special power is that she's able to breathe underwater (the spider that bit her was a diving bell spider, the only spider that can live underwater), and she's also able to create bubbles of water that get to help her to capture villains (imagine them like if they were like bubbles, the exterior of the bubble would be water, and the interior is oxygen, so the people trapped don't drown-unless she makes the interior made of water as well-).

She lost Minx when she was fighting Mysterio (in her universe, Sam is Mysterio). He created an illusion where Minx and some rumble was falling down a building, she went straight to Minx, only to find out that Mysterio tricked her to pick the rumble, and Minx fell down the building.

Other villains she has: Tommy as Green Goblin, HBomb as Sandman, Punz as Electro, Jschlatt as Kingpin, Puffy as Black Cat, etc.

Spider-Technoblade "Blood-Arachne" (Earth 010699)

Technoblade is a 24 year old man that lives in New York with his family. Philza is his dad, Kristin is his mother, Tommy and Wilbur are his brothers. He works as a history teacher in a high-school (the same one Tommy goes to) and is also a fencing teacher in the weekends.

Techno was bitten by a radioactive spider when he went to an abandoned subway to supervise Tommy and Wilbur that wanted to explore the place, the subway was near an Alchemax building.

His special power is to detect his enemies by hearing the palpitations of their blood and their scent. He's able to smell the blood type of his enemies to recognize them, hear the beating of their heart to locate where they are, and determine how big or small their enemy is. In consequence of this power, he hears voices in his head that sometimes demand a bloodbath, he usually satisfies this by eating raw meat that still contains blood -or even some small animals- (his body needs to consume blood to survive and satisfy the voices, as if he was a vampire. The voices usually are pretty chill and annoying most of the time, but when it comes to blood, they become bloodthirsty voices). He also makes webs made by his own blood, it doesn't hurt him (that's why the name blood). He told his brothers about his secret when they caught him sneaking back to his room after a night of patrol while he was still in costume with his mask off.

He lost Kristin while fighting The Lizard (in his universe, Sapnap is the Lizard). Sapnap tried to infect the city with the lizard-gas, Kristen was in the mall the fighting was taking place on, and when Techno almost beated The Lizard, he made the mall explode, Techno was able to get Sapnap and him out of the explosion, and when he tried to caught his mom, it was too late.

Other villains he has: Quackity as Green Goblin, Tubbo as Doc Oc, Eret as Vulture, Fundy as Scorpion, etc.

AND THAT'S ALL THE SPIDER-PEOPLE!! Let me know your thoughts and opinions about this!! I'll work on the discduo one later today or tomorrow, so look out for that!! Let me know as well your ideas for the design of the Spider-people and discduo if you have any!!

#tommyinnit #technoblade #niki nihachu #nihachu #sbi #sleepy bois inc #tubbo #tubbolive #ranboo #dream #discduo Spider-Man AU #MichyAU

[space-mermaid-writing]

Oh no, he's hot - Part 2 [IronStrange]

Summary: The second time Tony met Stephen, the sorcerer was intrigued

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 1.2k | Part 1

Chapter's Note: Here’s the second part nobody asked for.

Oh no, he’s hot

Tony eyed the building in front of him critically. It didn't quite fit into the aesthetic of New York. So much so that one might think it would stand out because of it. Yet, Tony was sure he had never noticed it before. The other pedestrians walked past it without even giving it a glance. Like they didn't see it at all.

Tony climbed up the steps and knocked. (There was no doorbell. Who didn’t have a doorbell?) Nothing happened for a moment, then the door opened, but there was no one to be seen.

Tony waited exactly twelve long seconds – he for once wanted to be polite – before he went to unravel this mystery on his own.

The interior design was an interesting choice. Not Tony's style, but fitting to magic ninja monks, he guessed. He walked up the wide staircase, clearly the centerpiece of this ridiculous big entrance hall, and was about to turn left when a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony turned around, his signature PR smile plastered on his face. He recognized the man from the other day. The one he had been talking to before. If just briefly. “Wong, right?” The man gave no reaction. Tough crowd. “I have questions regarding…” he made a vague gesture to the room, "everything."

Including that hot guy – Doctor Stephen Strange as the facial recognition software he had run the footage from the fight through had revealed – but that, of course, was incidental.

"We were expecting that. Follow me."

He led Tony down a hallway to a room and motioned him to enter.

So Tony did.

The furniture was minimalist and very zen. In the center sat Strange cross-legged and hovering four feet in the air. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be meditating.

Curious, Tony stepped closer to take a look at him up close. He was wearing casual clothes today, his red cape nowhere in sight. He was paler than Tony remembered, with dark shadows under his eyes. After all, just another human being, despite the impressive performance the other day. His bandaged hands lay relaxed in his lap, in what Tony recognized as a yoga pose.

When he thought he had waited long enough, Tony cleared his throat. And when that had no effect, he tapped the man’s shoulder.

Stephen jolted awake, as if Tony had turned him on by pressing a button. He startled and lost his balance as his levitation spell vanished and he fell on his butt.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, sorry." Tony raised his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to jump start you.”

Strange scowled at him, if only for a moment. Then he had put on a neutral expression that Tony knew was just a mask. That was fine, he had just marched in here unannounced. Apropos. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to track you down? On a scale from one to ten at least an eight.” Normally Tony loved a good challenge.

Strange raised an eyebrow and he seemed almost offended. “Just eight?”

The wards and cloaking spells around the Sanctum were centuries old. Only people in need or those who were desperate were able to find the doors. They had to be at the right place at the right time. And Stark did not give the impression that he was this kind of person.

Tony grinned. “Yeah. The Pentagon was a six point five, but I was in college back then and the technology wasn’t as advanced. So eight is pretty good. Not impossible though.”

Obviously, Stephen had to ask. “What’s a ten?”

Tony’s lips moved into a smug smirk. “My tower, of course.”

Stephen scoffed, amused. Of course. “What do you want, Stark?”

It may have sounded a little rude, but not much ruder than being forced back into his body by surprise. So, naturally, Tony let it slide, because he remembered why he came here in the first place. Not to get this guy’s number but the other reason. His questions.

“What is this?” he asked, looking around. “Your secret school of wizardry? How many wizards are there? Where did the gnomes come from? And that other thing? Had you been a wizard when you were a neurosurgeon?”

Strange tilted his head in a mix of being amused and annoyed. But Stark had managed to find the Sanctum, so he had to give him some credit.

“Do you want tea?” he asked, since this whole encounter seemed to take some time and he hadn't had breakfast yet.

“I’m more of a coffee kind of guy.”

A cup appeared out of nowhere and he was able to grab it just before the hot liquid spilled over.

Stephen's cup remained hovering next to him and followed him as he turned toward the door. Using the conjured lightning in the fight had done nothing good for his hands. He could barely move his fingers, which was why he opened the door even with a pinch of magic.

He motioned Tony to follow him. The meditation room was not the place to deal with Stark's pending questions.

"This isn't Harry Potter. We aren't wizards," he informed him curtly. Stark opened his mouth to object. Although he was a man of science, he knew what he had seen. But Stephen was quicker. “We are clearly sorcerers.”

There was the smallest hint of a smile on his lips.

He answered some of Tony's questions. With each answer came more questions, but they were surprisingly genuine. Stark was an attentive listener and Stephen found himself telling more than first intended. No secrets of the order, Vishanti no, but Stark's visit lasted longer than he had expected.

They ended up on the roof of the Sanctum.

One, Stephen didn’t trust Stark anywhere near the relics yet. Two, it was a warm day and the roof had a nice view. And the sun did good to his hands.

He found himself invested in the conversation with Stark, especially when they started discussing pros and cons of advanced technology versus magical healing.

Until they got interrupted by a voice coming from Stark’s pocket.

“Boss.”

Stephen paused, confused for a moment while Tony pulled his Starkphone out of his pocket.

“What’s the stitch, Fri?”

“There has been an emergency situation rising in the north. Captain Rogers is assembling the Avengers.”

The voice was clearly artificial, but not generic robotic, Stephen noticed.

“Tell them, I’m on my way,” Stark told his AI. Looking back to Strange he added, “Sorry, doc, seems like we have to cut our date short.”

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow at this comment, but let it slide. “Do you need backup?” he asked instead.

“No, we got this. But you’re welcome to tag along and watch, if you want.” He winked at him as he walked to the edge of the roof and jumped onto the coping. He was surprisingly agile.

Tony tapped on his chest and the nanobots bled over his body, also integrating the phone he was still holding in his hand.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

Those were Tony's last words before the nanobots closed off his face. He dropped backwards and two seconds later he flew through the sky of New York.

Stephen's eyes followed him until he disappeared between the skyscrapers. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued and maybe a little bit turned on. Stark knew how to make an exit.

And Stephen had a feeling that this wasn't the last time he’d seen Tony.

#Tony Stark x Stephen Strange #Stephen Strange x Tony Stark #IronStrange #StrangeIron #Doctor Strange x Iron Man #Iron Man x Doctor Strange #ironstrange prompt #tony stark #ironstrange #iron man #stephen strange #doctor strange #tony stark/stephen strange #stephen vincent strange #drstrange #marvel #mcu #dr strange #ironman #SpaceMermaid #SpaceMermaid writing

[petervintonjr]

"I'm not going to be the teacher. We're going to learn together. You're going to teach me some things, and maybe there are a few things I might be able to teach you, but I don't consider myself a teacher. I just feel that I'm here to learn with you. We'll learn things together."

As an adult educator myself, I couldn't help but be drawn into the fascinating life and philosophies of Bernice Violanthe Robinson. Born February 7, 1914 in Charleston, South Carolina --a day that saw snowfall in Charleston for the first time in more than a century. Robinson's mother, Martha Elizabeth (née Anderson) Robinson took this as a sign that her daughter would spend her life "disturbing the elements." Martha was herself sister to Septima Poinsette Clark's mother (see Lesson #74 in this series), and Bernice's own principles would similarly coalesce around the twin premises of education and citizenship, much like her famous cousin.

In 1929 Bernice moved from South Carolina to Harlem, New York with the intention of becoming a musician, but after a period in the famed garment district, her talents as a seamstress took prominence and she graduated from Poro School of Cosmetology. In 1947 she returned to Johns Island, South Carolina to care for her ageing parents, and with her professional talents was able to open her own salon --a form of economic independence not available to Black women in most other careers. At the time beauticians were traditionally well-regarded amongst civil rights workers, not only because they were known and respected in a community, but also because of their almost-stereotypical role as "the good listeners," and that as self-employed entrepreneurs were less prone to backlash from punitive employers. By all accounts a socially engaging and affable personality with an easy talent for friendly first impressions, Bernice joined the NAACP and made good use of her salon as a "hub" for local activism, and made many contacts and acquaintances.

In 1956 Robinson attended a workshop hosted by the Highlander Folk School (an organization that itself certainly merits its own course of study); her cousin Septima Clark also attended. Ostensibly the topic was about desegregation but over the course of the session the focus turned to civic literacy and educating would-be voters. Bernice expressed an interest in helping to better educate the people of Johns Island but lamented her lack of professional teaching credentials. Clark countered by suggesting that her cousin was the ideal candidate for such a role precisely because she lacked such a credential; that she was perfectly suited to the task because of her lack of formal training --no preconceived notions.

Thusly "voluntold," Bernice threw herself into her new calling; in five months (!) she developed lesson plans, curricula, and distributable materials that would lead to SCLC voter-registration workshops in communities well beyond Johns Island; eventually catching on in Charleston itself. The growth of these first Citizenship Schools in turn fed into the enthusiasm and the missions of CORE, the Freedom Riders, and the SNCC --all of which reinforced one another as they continued to educate and motivate scores of citizens who had never before stepped into a voting booth.

As an adult educator, Bernice also adhered to the principle of never stopping learning: in 1967 she completed a University of Wisconsin correspondence course in community development, and also found time to secure an additional degree in interior design. Robinson stepped down from her behind-the-scenes SCLC role in 1970, having quietly developed what amounted to the most successful and widespread literacy campaign in modern American history. She pivoted to developing curricula for the South Carolina Commission for Farm Workers (SCCFW); and then in 1972 --in what I can only assume is the inherent desire of the adult educator to yet again try something new and different-- she ran for Congress.

#black lives matter #black history month #adult education #lifelong learning #bernice robinson #highlander folk school #teachtruth #dothework #sclc

[queenmiarys]

Book: TRR

Meet my MC

Face claim: Ylona Garcia

Name: Amelia Ramos

Birthday: April 20

AdrianAge: 25

Hair: dark brown

Eyes: brown

Family: Parents Stefan & Shayla Ramos

Siblings: Stefan Ramos JR, Adrian S Ramos

Two. Aunts, 1 uncle on Father's site. One aunt, four brothers on mother's side .

Tons of cousins

Significant other: Liam Rys

best friends : Jennifer Lawson, Rashad Hussein

Education: New York School of interior design

Occupation: Owner of Ramos, NY upscale interior design with 2 locations New York and Boston

Pet peeves: Someone not washing their hands

Facts: I'm nice but you don't want to see my dark side

Nicknames: Mia by mostly all, El by brothers, Ali by father, mom used to call me Mia, my love by Liam

Interests: huge fan of the arts , kickboxing, exercising, biking, hiking camping.

Favorite foods: A very good Mac and cheese, warm peanut butter cookies

Favorite movies: faceoff, indecent proposal, shall we Dance, save the last dance.

Favorite music: alternative rock, dance, r&b kpop

Likes: Animals, people with good energy

What do people think of you ?

Dislikes: negative people, snakes , rats.

@choicesficwriterscreations @harleybeaumont @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @kingliam-rys @kingliam2019 @yaniradolton @yolandawalker @hanaleeappreciationweek @mom2000aggie @lilyoffandoms @katurrade @shewillreadyou @bebepac @dcbbw @luvquit @lolablackwrites @choiceskatie @tessa-liam @queenjilian @queenrileyrose @ao719

#the Royal Romance #liam x amelia #liam rys #trr gang #ENVY

[hometoursandotherstuff]

In case you missed it, I found some more pics of “The Little Black Firehouse.” Designers Erica and Julian took over the 19th cent. Brooklyn, New York firehouse that Julian’s mother bought and where he spent his high school years. As soon as they took it over, they immediately started to paint it black and plan the rooftop deck they always wanted. 

In the living-room library they both designed the bookshelves. “The only thing you focus on [in the all-black environment] are the illuminated book spines,” says Julian. “It does have a jewel-box effect,” adds Erica, “Especially at night.”

The Dining/Work Space: They both designed the massive 16-foot-long dining table after a monastery refectory table, using a plank of mahogany that had been kept for decades in Julian’s family.

The Dining-Room Wall: The Empire Engine 19 sign is a set piece made to resemble what they imagined the original might look like.

The Wall of Art Near Staircase: Features family portraits.

The Kitchen: “It was formerly a very dark space,” says Erica. “There were only a few windows, so we wanted to blow light into the house.” The wall of windows with a door to the garden beyond does just that.

The Master Bedroom: The framed 19th-century Japanese portraits (three more hang on the opposite wall) were gifts to Julian’s great-great-grandfather, who was an emissary to Japan in 1909.

The Walk-In Closet: Both their wardrobes are primarily black. “I don’t even think about it anymore,” Erica says about her choice of color. “It’s just a lifestyle.”

The Roof Garden: The soaking tub, sits under the pergola at the back of the garden; in front is a skylight in the middle of the roof that doubles as a reflecting pool.

https://www.julianlaverdiere.com/interiors#/empire-engine-19/

#little black firehouse #goth decor #black decor #converted firehouse #long post #architecture

[maikabishop]

MAIKA BISHOP

Nickname(s): Mai Age: 30 Birthday: June 7, 1993 Occupation: Sales associate at Fresh Garbage Neighbourhood: Downtown Length of time in Briar Ridge: since birth Pronouns: she/they Sexuality: queer/unlabelled Zodiac Placements: gemini sun, libra moon, pisces rising.

WANTED CONNECTIONS | CONNECTIONS | PINTEREST

Maika is the second (and youngest) child to parents, Raymond Bishop and Carrie Ballenger, two highly successful realtors in South Carolina.

After meeting in university and bonding over their love of the business, Raymond and Carrie decided to take their business partnership to new heights when a romance blossomed between them, later resulting in a marriage and children.

After her father's retirement, Colleen became the proud owner of Ballenger Realty, inheriting their list of valued clients, as well as business offices in Briar Ridge and surrounding areas.

Although neither child could complain about a lack of necessities or food on the table, Maika and her brother, Chance, suffered in other areas, often feeling an absence of time, love, and attention from their parents as they prioritized their business endeavours. Instead, they made up for the lack of affection by funding each child's lifestyle, spoiling them with lavish gifts and paying their university tuition.

Much like their mother, Maika was a social butterfly in high school, often earning attention from many of her male classmates. She had good grades, was the school's star volleyball player, and was generally well-liked and respected by peers.

From a young age, Maika had learned that keeping up appearances was important to the Bishop family. Because of this, she would often force herself to go to parties and social gatherings, even when Maika's true idea of fun was spending the night at home watching movies with their brother.

Close in age, the two were just as much friends as they were siblings. Though this all changed when Chance got married at just eighteen years old. For Maika, the decision was difficult to understand and in a lot of ways, they felt abandoned.

Maika attended university in Briar Ridge, studying interior design, in hopes to help with the growth and expansion of her family's realty business as they began to flip houses for profit.

It was in university that Maika first grew aquainted with Noa Andreas. While they had known of each other in passing, being matched as roommates must have been kismet. From day one, they were practically inseparable, experiencing a bond unlike anything Maika had ever felt before. Noa was her platonic soulmate, her other half. And despite having a long-term boyfriend who often tagged along on their adventures, Maika tried everything to shake the terrifying feelings she was developing for her best friend.

Between their disinterest in their coursework, feuding with their brother and a crush so big it was swallowing them whole, Maika did the only thing she could think of and ran away from her problems. Not only was her ex-boyfriend left wondering what had changed, but she had left Noa to pick up the pieces of her departure as her best friend struggled to pay the rent.

It only took one call to her cousin, Cameron, before Maika was on the first flight to New York City in hopes to start over. Determined to have no contact with her family members back home, Maika was forced to start from the bottom up, serving as waitress by day and mixing cocktails at a gay bar by night, as her cousin assisted in putting a roof above her head.

Although Maika is still on their self-discovery journey and hasn't put a label on their sexuality, they feel more comfortable in their own skin than ever before. Thanks to the help and support of her co-workers and her cousin, Cameron, Maika has been able to immerse themselves in an environment that has allowed them to be their most authentic self.

Now more confident and financially stable, they have chosen to join their cousin in returning back to Briar Ridge, facing their fears and their families together as she begins to live her life unapologetically. Confronting Noa on the other hand? A little more nerve wracking.

#『 maika / intro. 』