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charming-mage · 4 years

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Salt-fic September Day 7: “From now on, I’m gonna call you Karen.”

@maribat-central-official

Salt Fic September Month Calendar

@agent-numbuh-227′s ask fits perfectly with this salt-fic September prompt, so I combined them.

Here’s my entry for Salt-Fic September.

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“Waiter, my steak is not cooked enough. Send it back and have it reheated.”

“Yes, Miss Rossi.” The waiter takes her plate to the kitchen.

Lila is having lunch at the Le Grand Paris hotel's Le Petit Restaurant. She’s not at school today as she told her gullible classmates she is in Achu for an emergency meeting. To not get caught by them, she timed it to be same time as their regular lunch hour. By the time Monday came, she’ll have new Achu stories and claim the quick lunch at Le Petit Restaurant was on a different day.

A few times during the meal, she claimed a bunch of petty stuff such as needing more ice in her water, trying to order something not on the menu, asking for more napkins when there’s already enough on the table, and ordering a caramelized onion tart with many things from it removed. The last complaint got the head chef herself to step out of the kitchen to address it.

The head chef made it clear she wouldn’t majorly alter the food. If Lila didn’t like it, she could order something else. The silent look of ‘If you don’t like the food here, then leave’ is understood.

After the delicious meal is finished, the waiter came with the bill.

“Waiter, since I’m a famous Gabriel model I should get a nice 30% discount. I’ll be sure to post on my social media about your restaurant’s generosity.” Lila is perfectly able to pay the bill in full. She just doesn’t like paying in full if she doesn’t have to.

“Miss Rossi, we do not offer discounts here.”

“You should after that ordeal I went through. I couldn’t finish my meal without something coming up.”

“Miss-”

“You know what, get me your manager.”

“Is there a problem?” says the head chef as the waiter leaves.

“Oh, you’re back. As I was saying, I need a discount to make up for the multiple errors that interrupted my lunch.”

“I’m sorry, there is a no discount policy. You need to pay the entire bill.”

“Do you know who I am?” The lack of recognition on the head chef’s face infuriates her. “I’m Gabriel Agreste’s muse. You guys should be happy I’m here. A mention of me eating here on my twitter will boost your sales.”

“No discounts-”

“Mr. Agreste would not be pleased at this service. He might even need to have a talk with your manager. I’ll forgive you if you make my meal free. I’ll pay for the drinks of course,” bluffs Lila. She would not actually bother Gabriel over something like this.

The head chef’s eyes harden. “No matter to your....connection with Mr. Agreste, you must still pay your meal. If you can’t, I’m afraid I’ll have to call the police.”

“T-There’s no need to.” Lila hands over the cash and quickly scampers off before the manager arrives.

Once outside, she spots a handsome guy around her age that was in the restaurant earlier. He has slick black hair and green eyes. She tells a shorthand tale of woe hopping to win him over.

His face of indifference doesn’t change. “You wasted my 3 minutes of life with a tale of your horrible behavior. Even money can’t buy you better manners.”

Lila storms off in a huff.

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“-it was horrible. The head chef at the Le Petit Restaurant was so mean. Couldn’t even get my order right and had to get it remade several times. She wouldn’t accommodate my allergies too. She got angry when I asked her to keep some stuff off my food.”

After the handsome guy’s reaction, she tailored her story to focus more on the head chef than herself.

Alya looks shocked. “You mean the one inside Le Grand Paris?”

Lila nods. “Yes. I’m never going back there while that horrible woman is still there. Maybe I should report her?” The class is silent and weirdly horrified. She didn’t think the woman’s actions in her story was that outrageous.

Ayla slowly says, “You’re the difficult customer my mother was talking about.”

“What do you mean?” The shock of Ayla not cheerfully agreeing prevents her making the connection right away.

Ayla continues on. “My mom told our family about a rude customer at work. Very picky with their food, waving their connection around, and demanding discounts and free food. Even Chloe wasn’t as demanding as this girl. She didn’t say who it was, though.”

Kim gasps, “Oh my god. Lila’s a Karen.”

“W-Wait I can explain-”

Chloe laughs, “Shut up, Karen. You let the fame go to your head. A few modeling shoots and this amateur thinks she’s a big shot.”

A wide eyed Rose says, “What happened to you Lila? You used to be so kind and giving. Now you turned into this.”

Lila tries to do damage control. “Look guys, I’m so sorry. I’ve learned my lesson and I’ll never do this again.” She’s only ‘apologizing’ to get them to forget about this and move on. Think of it as a one time experience that’ll never happen. A little stain on her reputation is better than no one listening to her ever again over not saying some nice words.

Alix crosses her arms. “You’re not going to apologize to Alya about what you said about her mom? If you told those lies to the hotel Mrs. Cesaire could have gotten in big trouble with her disregarding allergies.” At that point Lila connected the dots and realized the source is the head chef: Ayla’s mom. No wonder the girl was so mad. A little surprised in not getting a slap in the face, though.

Chloe interrupts Lila’s storm of apologies to Alya with her fateful words, “Miss wannabe big shot, from now on, you’ll be Karen in my eyes.”

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Lila’s reign of lies may not completely fallen that day, but it’s pretty close. Mrs. Bustier’s class from then on took her stories with a grain of salt. Was Le Petit Restaurant Incident a one time occurrence or a pattern? No one trusted her accounts with other people from then on. They wonder if the people’s behavior in the story is as accurate as she claims.

A few had darker thoughts, wondering if Lila is truely like this the entire time and the fame just made it easier to see.

It becomes a tradition to call Lila Karen whenever they catch her doing what they call her “Karen-like” ways. Like Lila trying to get special accommodations (not medical related) and claiming someone is being mean to her. So no one believed Lila when she cries about Marinette saying bad things about her when no ones looking. It could be like the Mrs. Cesaire situation all over again. Maybe it’s just Marinette being firm on her boundries.

With the exception of one, the classmates don’t call her Karen too often as they don’t want to cross the line into bullying.

Chloe, channeling her inner Style Queen, never called Lila by her name ever again. Lila will always be Karen to her.

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Before it’s asked, Ayla never asked her mom when this happened. She just knows it happened recently.

Did a small Damian cameo. I only watched parts of the Batman Animated series and the Marvel Universe. Didn’t want to butcher him too much.

#saltfic september #Lila salt #Lila Rossi #cameo #miraculous ladybug #karen

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animetrashlord-007 · 4 years

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Tumblr Takeover

Word Count;; 2.2k

Genre;; Fluff

Pairing;; Ushijima x Reader

Summary;;

[The cringe is real, folks]

Notes;; Published: 2017-04-06

My Masterlist

You groaned as you scrolled through your Tumblr profile, glaring at the content that seemed to have no end. What used to be your messy, themeless blog filled predominantly with anime, shitposting and the occasional debate, now contained volleyball. Only volleyball. You slammed your laptop shut before packing your school supplies and running out the door. Your teacher would never let you hear the end of it if you were late for the third day in a row, even if you tried to pass the blame onto a certain third year. It was his fault after all; he altered your entire blog overnight without asking beforehand, and the early morning discovery put you into a temporary state of shock. You growled and quickened your pace - no sane teacher would accept that excuse and you had no intention of gaining detention because of a volleyball-obsessed dork. Once you reached class (on time, much to your amazement), your irritation faded. As much as you hated to admit, it wasn't his fault. You should have expected this to happen sooner or later. You knew what you were getting into when you shared your account with him. He had told you his intentions at the beginning: Ushijima wanted to share his love of volleyball with you and your poor followers.

It wasn't like you disliked the sport either; you knew your school’s team well enough to attend their matches (with only mild persuasion necessary on their part) and, while you could see the appeal, it wasn't your first pick for a hobby. In fact, it wouldn't be your second or third pick either, but if you had to choose a sport… you might consider it. In all honesty, the thing you enjoyed most about volleyball was the players. Shiratorizawa’s team was determined and they had talent. Somehow your admiration for their abilities had led you to befriending each of them to different degrees. When you saw Tendou in the halls, you’d yell manga references at one another, each quote becoming more obscure than the last, until the bell rang and you both bolted to class. Goshiki did his best to avoid you after watching you challenge Shirabu to an impromptu dance-off, which, to his horror, his upperclassman accepted. Neither of you were being very serious as you dropped it low and pumped it up, laughing at how stupid you both looked, yet Goshiki claimed to be scarred for life. At lunch most days you pretended to study with Yamagata and Ohira whilst spamming Semi with memes and vine compilations. He once blessed you with a response, and had it not been at two in the morning after a long night of studying, you would have been impressed with the video of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” on loop for ten hours. Never in your life would you have suspected to be Rick Rolled by your senpai, but you weren't one to back down from a challenge. Feeling invigorated, you continued to spam him every chance you got. To his regret, that included sending TED talks about asexual reproduction in various species in the dead of night when you were unable to sleep.

“I think the real question here is why the hell do you watch videos about animal reproduction at midnight every week?” Semi sighed as he wiped the sweat off his brow before throwing his towel at you.

“Gross! I don't want your stinky towel!” You snapped, tossing it back. You grimaced as you stretched, the obnoxious cracking of several joints resonated throughout the gym. After being hunched over your textbooks for the first half of their practice, it was nice to stand up and move your tired muscles. Goshiki muttered a protest to your presence under his breath, which you elected to ignore.

“No way, she still sends those to you?” Tendou bellowed, slapping his friend’s back with a grin. The setter shrugged, shooting you glare before walking back onto the court, leaving you with the middle blocker. His grin fell into a devious smirk upon seeing your narrowed eyes. Knowing full well what his mind was focused on and that he had no intention of letting his inquiry go unanswered, you stalked toward the door. He kept pace with you, poking you as he continued, “You can't avoid it that easily.”

Feigning naivety, you quipped, “I don't watch them, I just send them to Semi to bug him.”

“Oh, no, no, you don’t. Not that question, the one before that. Why don't you annoy Ushijima like you do everyone else?”

You allowed a quick smile to flicker across your features before turning to the boy who was still following you to the door and ignoring his coach’s calls to return to the damn court already. Pure bliss flooded your mind as you pursed your lips, hand lifted over your heart in mock despair as your eyes quivered. Giving yourself a mental pat on the back for being on the verge of tears, you whispered, “I annoy you, Satori-kun?”

“No! Of course not! I just meant-”

“I'm sorry, Satori-kun, I'll leave you all alone from now on,” a single tear flowed down your cheek and you just about imploded with pride. Who needs to take theatre courses when you have this much natural talent?

“No, no! Don't cry!” Looking to his teammates for help, he pointed at you with exasperation. His silent pleas were met with snickers as they each turned their back on the scene.

On the outside, you were a delicate mess. On the inside, however, you were rejoicing. No longer was his mind on why you acted just a touch different with the team’s ace (since evidently nothing slipped past those maroon eyes of his), but rather on how to stop the waterworks that threatened to break before him. All that was left was to run out of the gym, celebrate your narrow escape, and continue to avoid him until you could formulate a believable excuse. You didn't want him to catch on to the small crush you had developed on Ushijima, but more importantly, you didn't want him to know about your Tumblr. He would never let you live down your low-effort blog after he had shown you his organised manga-themed one. Nevermind the the flack you would receive about how much of a pushover you had become to allow Ushijima full reign over it. Perhaps you could lie and say that the third year intimidated you, so you didn't want to push your luck around him. Maybe fortune would favour you and Tendou would drop the subject completely after this disaster. Knowing him, however, that was unlikely.

“I'll just go, since I annoy you-”

“What did you do this time?” A gravelly voice resounded across the room. It sent shivers down your spine as you faced the sound. Ushijima towered over you, a mix between confusion and disappointment aimed toward Tendou. The redhead just laughed before running back onto the court.

“Hey Wakatoshi-kun, did you finish your exam?” You fumbled with your bag strap as you tried to sidle out of his vision. Much to your dismay, his eyes followed you with an intensity that would make a weaker person crumble.

“What did he do?” Reiterating his question with a deepening frown, he moved in front of the door and blocked your escape.

“Oh, you know Tendou-kun. Everything he does is annoying. Well, I've got to go!”

“Before you leave, did you see our Tumblr? I changed it a little.”

“A little?” You repeated, bitterness tainting the smile you flashed toward him, “You changed it more than a little, Ushijima-kun. My favourite part of it would have to be the ask from a mutual about why I'm suddenly a volleyball blog, and if I'm sharing my account because it seemed even more all over the place than usual and I just loved waking up to a new theme as well. Yes, it was very nice, Ushiwaka-kun, very nice.”

“You should try regulating your breathing, you look flustered. I am glad you liked it, however. I spent a decent amount of time on it,” he nodded, brushing past you to join his team in their practice. Unbelievable.

“Oi, you! We're not done here! I'll be calling you tonight, so, uh, prepare yourself!” You shouted after him, huffing at his thumbs-up. A tinge of pink painted the tips of your ears when Semi and Shirabu smirked at you, which bloomed into a full blush at Tendou’s, “You can call on him anytime!”

The rest of the day whirled by in a blur. You couldn't procrastinate on Tumblr without being reminded of your new theme, which turned off your desire to slack off in general. You finished your homework early, then you finished next week’s as well. Something seemed off, but you didn't stop to question it - you were motivated to work for once and you didn't want to jinx your flow. Even after finishing two essays, you had time to kill before you could call Ushijima. Since he was tardy to practice, he would undoubtedly stay late to make up the lost time. Heading to the kitchen, you grabbed out the ice cream and threw yourself down on the couch. With nothing left to do, binge-watching Netflix would feel rather guilt-free for once. Your relaxation was cut short when you heard a knock at the door.

“I don't want to buy your shit, go away!”

“It's Ushijima,” a palpable pause, “and I'm not selling anything. I have your textbooks. You left them in the gym.”

You groaned at your own stupidity. How could you have let Tendou work you up enough to abandon your textbooks? On top of that, you allowed your desire to scold Ushijima to blind you to your obvious lack of study material. Without it, the likelihood of errors had increased exponentially. You smacked yourself with a pillow; now you would have to double-check all your homework. Anxiety tickled your numbing thoughts as you turned off the television. You didn't make any effort to meet him at the door, “Ugh, just come in already.”

He offered a nod in acknowledgement as he entered the living room and placed the books on the table. He sat down next to you, smiling as he grabbed the dessert from your hands. You were used to him being in your home after many an afternoon spent showing him how to use Tumblr. What came as a surprise was watching him eat the ice cream. Most days he would return it to the freezer, disregarding your pleas. You took the chance to observe him while his own gaze fell to the carpeted floor. The embodiment of a proper gentleman, he maintained perfect posture. He was still in his school uniform, and he always looked tense in it, but he seemed to loosen up when he was in your home. You knew he had taken a shower at the school, which he usually did after practice, because his hair had been styled once more. You always appreciated how the minty scent of his body wash lingered throughout your house even after he left. His clothes seemed tighter, clinging to his damp skin, providing an even more exquisite view of his muscles. Eyes falling to his legs, you let your mind wander and toy with the notion of seeing those thighs bare of clothing. You didn't notice when he turned to you at last, still lost in your own somewhat perverted thoughts. Coughing to gain your attention, he cocked an eyebrow, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Shut up, you smell nice.”

He blinked, a tinge of red dusting his cheeks, before continuing, “What did you want to talk about?”

“I was going to call you. You didn't need to arrive at my house unannounced and start eating my food,” you mumbled, hitting his arm, “but I wanted to talk to you about getting your own Tumblr. Or, I guess since you already took over mine, I could start a new one.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why, doofus? When I showed you my Tumblr, I didn't intend for you to take it over. I just thought you might want to see that someone posted one of your matches and it was getting notes,” you sighed, hitting his arm again. He chuckled at the effort, lifting a spoon of the frozen dessert to your lips. You swore under your breath as your cheeks exploded with crimson heat upon swallowing the treat.

“I'm sorry,” he placed the tub of ice cream on the table before facing you once more, taking your hands within his, “You mentioned how your blog was personal to you, and I enjoyed that you shared it with me. I enjoy spending time you.”

“Oi, you can't just say things like that! Dammit, Bakatoshi! You're making me blush!” You slapped his arm once more, earning an amused grunt from the attractive volleyball-obsessed idiot. He leaned in to you, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“It was nice having something that was ours,” You could feel his breath on your lips as he caressed your cheek. Your heart skipped a few beats, waiting for him to make his move.

“Geez, just kiss me already, Wakatoshi-kun!” You closed the gap, lips smashing against his. If he was surprised by your forwardness, he didn’t show it. Instead he entwined his fingers within your hair, returning the kiss with equal passion. Patience was never one of your strong suits, not that either of you were complaining.

#haikyuu!!#Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #hq #anime #anime x reader #anime fanfic #anime fanfiction #anime oneshot #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fanfiction #ushijima oneshot #ushijima fanfic #animetrashlord-007

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imma-lil-teapot · 4 years

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TMNT 2003/2K3 Headcanon: Crying - (Raphael)

Feel free to scroll past this first part if you’re not interested in my silly rambling and nonsense. I won’t mind. Promise. ;)

Alrighty then, lockdown has officially started here. :/ *Unenthusiastic streamers fly* Oh well, look what we have all the time in the world for: WRITING! *Enthusiastic streamers fly* Not too much extra to add in this regard since the last headcanon (thanks a bunch for the likes btw, guys :D ), so I guess we’ll just get right into it. :)

Please bear in mind that I’m SUPER rusty! Haven’t written in ages so there are bound to be typos and all matter of general errors scattered throughout the post. Don’t pet them! They bite!

Anyhoo~ Despite attempting to create and share with the goal in mind to uplift spirits, I decided to start on a rather upsetting subject (PLEASE DON’T LEAVE! They end on happy notes ;) ) because, Imma just come and say it, I enjoy seeing my favourite characters shed tears (not for just any old reason -their personality plays a huge role in this- and CERTAINLY not for sadistic reasons, land sakes no! But… well, you’ll see~ ;) ) It makes me all gooey and fuzzy inside to see them display such raw emotion and I just wanna leap into the TV screen to hug and console them. I dunno why. Maybe I’m nuts like that. (Remembers Raph crying at the farm when Leo was badly injured and wishes she could just hug them all and take away the pain) Oh well, if you enjoy visualizing the same, then *High Fives*. :)

So yeah, if you read the title, you’ll know this is based on the 2003/2k3 series (my favs). Hope you all enjoy~ :D Grab tissues cause sad turts ahead! :’(

Jibber jabber stops here~

TURTLES~

LEONARDO

RAPHAEL - You are here

DONATELLO - Coming soon

MICHELANGELO - Coming soon

WARNING(S): Because of the subject, Angst and Hurt/Comfort will be present.

RATING: G (General)

WORD COUNT: Uhhh... *Shrugs shoulders*

ANYTHING ELSE TO ADD:

Well, you’re just gonna have to scroll down to find him, Master Splinter. ;) I really didn’t know what to add so... *Shrugs* And look at da squishy Turtle Tots, dey so cuuuuute!!! <3

TO THE HEADCANONS~~~~

~RAPHAEL~

– With his infamous hotheadedness and quick capacity for battle, it’s of course natural at first for one to expect Big Bad Raphie-Boy to be completely opposed to the very thought of crying. He is the resident ‘tough guy’ after all.

– However, this notion couldn’t be farther from the truth: sure, he can be brash, quick to temper and lash out at those that give him enough incentive to, but underneath that rockhard exterior beats the heart of a real softie, and when something truly upsets that tender muscle, you can bet Mr. Hothead’s not going to try too hard to keep the tears at bay.

– He’s as passionate as he is headstrong, and reining in such powerful emotions proves to be difficult at most times for him, so out of the four of them, and given the right circumstances, Raph can be surprisingly easy to get the tears flowing.

-- He’s no crybaby by a long shot, mind you, but he also knows that holding back on the waterworks is pointless and makes one just feel worse in the long run. If you’re going to cry, just cry. Simple as that.

-- Like all of his brothers, Red can’t handle the thought of losing any of his family and close friends. It tears him apart inside and he’ll desperately attempt to protect and prevent anything terrible from happening to them, but when it does, he’s an emotional wreck and doesn’t always know how to handle his distress.

– His initial reaction is to be by their sides before becoming outraged, and depending on the different situations, it’s not uncommon for him to also nag and pass remarks at the injured brother(s). It’s the only real way of expressing his fear of losing them before dampness starts forming in his eyes.

– Despite his tough guy front, he’s not against crying in front of his family and friends at all. He knows his place and doubts a few tears will have them seeing him in a different light, particularly his father/master and brothers for they’ve seen the worst in him on many occasions.

– It’s only when a particularly harsh meltdown wishes to happen does Raph choose to spare them the sideshow; he knows it’s not a pretty sight, so before the sniffling begins, he leaves the Lair and heads topside for some much needed air.

– He chooses the nearby rooftops as his destination; the ideal location to let go of the ever building waves of raw emotion that continue to grip at his chest, and by the time he makes it up the fire escape ladder, he spares little time letting out a rough growl in frustration, kicking an air vent a couple of times for good measure.

-- With some rage and frustration now out of his system, he heads on over to the brick wall and turns his back to it, roughly sliding down into a sitting position and exhales a dismal sigh. As he subconsciously replays the earlier events through his mind, he finally allows the next phase of his sorrow to surface unbridled.

-- He dolefully holds his head in one hand and balances it on a single knee pad as the tears now begin to flow freely.

– They instantly soak into his mask, and he grits his teeth as he feels the surges of emotion wrack his entire body. He doesn’t characteristically whimper or sob when crying, but he coughs a lot, and his nostrils leak like a faucet, forcing him to frequently sniff and snort just in order to breathe. This is the very reason why he refuses to really break down in front of the the others; not because of his tenacity, but because he simply finds the whole affair gross. His family certainly didn’t need to hear him constantly hacking up a lung and sounding like an untuned trumpet every time he blew his nose.

– The episode doesn’t last too long, though, much to his delight, and after some more thorough nasal clearing, Raph then wipes at his still somewhat wet eyes and mask before drawing out another -now exhausted- sigh.

-- He’d begin gradually twirling a single sai around whilst he collected his thoughts. It felt more natural to keep his hands busy than have them being static when he was feeling this way. As his demeanor altered, so did the actions he performed with it.

– He wouldn’t return to his family just yet for there was still some brooding left to be done... At least that was what he’d convinced himself he was doing. He wanted a clear head when he returned so for now, he’d remain in place on the rooftop in the crisp air with the city bursting with life just below him.

-- He had to admit, it was certainly the best place for him to be with his thoughts. Comforting in fact. A true New Yorker at heart.

BONUS EXTRA~

– Aside from having everyone special to him perish, one of Raph’s greatest fears is his inability to fully control his own temper. On more than one occasion has it gotten out of hand and thus resulted in him injuring his own brothers, and it had shaken him to the core each time.

– He’s come to the realization that he is his own worst enemy when it comes to reigning in his own inner rage, and it uneases him immensely that it could happen again and he’s fully aware that the probability is higher than he cares to admit. The more he concerns himself with it, the more it upsets him and thus, the tears of frustration start.

– Fortunately, his bros are there for him and can tell when he’s feeling low about it. They know the best course of action is to have a light-hearted conversation about it with him and offer their reassurances... With Mikey of course adding his own two cents on the matter in his unique Mikey style, which usually involves poking fun at his brother in red and causing Raph to go from broody to enraged in record breaking time. Just how it should be.

– Not only is Raph A-okay with crying himself, but he’s often first on the emotional support committee to offer the shoulder of comfort to his friends, amazingly enough, and he’s actually pretty decent at it too. Though, not for absolutely everyone; he has his limitations when he knows someone’s really just blubbering for attention.

– He wasn’t always so accepting of shedding tears, though: as a very young Turtle Tot, he often thought of it as being too ‘babyish’ for him to do and thus despised it whenever something happened to cause him to tear up.

– It took Master Splinter a rather surprisingly lengthy amount of time to change his perception of crying. No amount of explanations on how it was a perfectly natural expression of emotion would sway his son.

– It got so out of hand that Raph would be in utter denial about crying right in front of his father, even while the latter would be staring at his tear-stained face directly in front of him. “M‘not cryin’,” the little Turtle would sniff. “Cryin’s fah sissies.”

-- Splinter could only sigh and shake his head as he knelt down to embrace his son. When could he feel that Raphael would not fight the closeness, he’d give him the same lecture again, and Raph would finally succumb to his emotions and sob into his father’s robe whilst Splinter comfortingly rubbed his shell.

-- He could only guess that his words finally got through to his son for ever since that day, Raph’s entire attitude had altered for the better on the subject.

BONUS EXTRA EXTRA FEMALE READER OR S/O EDITION~ (Can also use an OC/FC insert if you wish, up to you)

From the moment you entered the Lair, you could clearly see something was up; Mikey was nursing an obvious wrist injury with a bag of frozen peas and hovering around Donny’s work area, complaining about the swelling to the purple-banded Turtle, who appeared to be paying little attention towards his ‘younger’ sibling as his back was turned.

"Hi, (Y/N).”

You visibly jumped at the voice behind you and briskly turned, only to meet Leonardo’s placid form, and he swiftly apologized for the start.

After the formal greeting, you gestured with a thumb in confusion at the former scene with an added, “Do I want to know?”

The leader’s facial features altered to a more serious aspect. “The end result of testing Raph’s patience,” he offered, which instantly had you more than a little concerned. Sure, Mikey could come off as being annoying, but to go so far as to physically harm him?

“Are you sure it’s not worse than ‘just a sprain’?” You overheard the injured brother asking Donny, whose focus remained on a contraption of sorts you couldn’t quite make out on his desk.

“Yes, Mikey, you’ll live,” he responded with just a hint of weariness. “But no swinging your nunchucks around for a coupla days,” which was met with a typical whine in response from his patient.

“It’s really not as bad as he makes it out to be,” Leo then added, turning your attention back towards him. Though you didn’t express it, you were grateful to hear the good news.

"Where is he now?”

“Topside most likely.” Of course. It didn’t surprise you in the least that Raph had chosen to head there and you quickly set a course for the surface. “Need an escort?” The leader in blue offered, to which you politely declined. You knew he needed no further explanation.

As you pushed back the manhole cover and made your way towards the nearest fire escape ladder, you were unable to put aside the various speculations as to why your special Turtle would hurt his own brother... Well, you would be kidding yourself to say you didn’t have at least one very plausible theory in mind, but as you neared the top of the ladder, the guesswork was instantly dropped and replaced with trepidation for you knew how Raph felt about injuring family.

To put it simply, you were going to be dealing with a very dejected Turtle, and true to form, as you peered over the top of the building, the iconic emerald green hide and red mask tails met your sight.

This was Raph’s favorite spot to gather his thoughts after all, so it was a no-brainer decision to begin the search there, and it was clear as day that it was exactly what he was doing for he made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he remained seated against the wall in a slouching position and gaze locked out front.

As expected, he appeared to be moping. “Hey, Raphie,” you greeted, clambering over the wall.

You were unable to tell if he had been aware you were nearby for he made no prior indication but instead merely replied with a gloomy, “’Sup, Kiddo?” No movement whatsoever.

It amused you whenever he chose to refer to you by that nickname, especially since you were both the same age, but as you ambled on over towards him, you were left anything but amused as your former notion was set in stone when you caught the telltale signs of wet stains under his eyes. “You okay?”

“Peachy.”

It wasn’t the first time you had witnessed ‘ol Red crying, but it didn’t prevent your heart from breaking all the same. Something about seeing the bullheaded bad boy in tears left you in a real state of dismay, so without invitation, you seated yourself next him, affectionately leaning against his side, but before the consoling could begin, you had to gently ask, “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“Ugh, it was so stupid! Mikey wouldn’t quit goin’ on n’ on about beatin’ me in the Battle Nexus tournament and kept rubbin’ it in our faces about becomin’ the champ,” he exclaimed with shockingly little provocation, sniffing loudly. “I jus’ got so sick’ve it this time, an’ it’s not like we neva duked it out before or nothin’ but... I went too far this time, (Y/N), ya know?”

He still refused to look at you as he began to wipe away some fresh tears that were forming in his eyes.

Your assumption had been correct all along; you acknowledged full well how Mikey’s triumphant achievement grated on Raph’s last nerve and how the orange-banded Turtle would seek out every opportunity to gloat about it in a bid to purposely provoke his ‘older’ brother. “Well, you know Mikey, Raph,” you said, not quite sympathizing with the actions he took, but rather offering some support. “He tries to get under your shell on purpose.”

"Yeah, I know, but... Dat’s no reason ta clobber the guy. Not like that, anyway” You noted how his voice gradually lowered grievously and you couldn’t stop yourself from placing your head on his shoulder.

“No, it isn’t, but...” you knew you were grasping at straws by this point, but still offered, “They say it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be.”

He sighed dolefully. “I lost control again, (Y/N),” and you could feel the vibrations beginning to surge through him. “No matta what I do, I jus’... I jus’ can’t...” He trailed off, wracked with emotions as he covered his face with one hand and allowed the tears to fall, a cough slipping here and there.

You heart bled for this boy, and more than anything right then, you longed to relieve him of the pain, so you did the only thing you could think of: be right there by his side, comforting him through the breakdown. “Oh, Raph. It’ll be okay,” you calmly whispered, slinking an arm around his carapace and shoulders, bringing him closer and lightly squeezing his bicep with your free hand. “It’ll be okay.”

He leaned into the much needed support and continued to allow his misery to flow forth. You didn’t mind in the least for it was exactly what he required in order to heal, and you would be there for him every step of the way.

AND THAT’S A WRAP!

ALL THE FEELS!! I EMBARRASS!!

WOOT, that’s Turt number two completed! Sorry it took a little longer than expected; I still feel rusty with sentence structure and all and am not entirely pleased with the outcome, but I did feel an improved ‘flow’ from the first so maybe things are slowly coming back to me? Or maybe it was the scenario; it felt more natural o write than Leo’s... Maybe cause Bloo Boi’s my fav Turt and I felt added pressure with his?

Oh well, Donny Boy’s next~

Thank you all so much for the read and hope you enjoyed~ :D

~Drag0n Mistr3ss’ Random Fandoms*

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irish-nlessing · 7 years

Text

Making the Grade - Ch. 1

The only sound Poppy Miller could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears. The words were swimming in front of her eyes. “Clerical error...unable to complete graduation application...missing credits.” Reaching up with a trembling hand, she pulled her laptop closed with a quiet click. “No no no no no. This is not how this is supposed to go. This is not how this is supposed to happen.” Her voice was thick, the words tinged with panic. She rolled away from the small desk in her cramped office and dropped her head between her knees and started counting. “100...99...98...97…” The numbers had always soothed Poppy, even when she was a small girl. They never changed, there was always order, and they never faltered. Saying them out loud made her feel like she was in control and centered, even when things in her world were spinning into chaos.

“25...24...23...22...21...20.” Poppy took a deep breath, feeling her heart rate slowly return to normal. Her ears were no longer ringing and making her feel as though she was listening to the sounds of the bustling newspaper office from under water. Sitting up, she smoothed her hair and opened her laptop back up with a purposeful flick of her wrist. She grabbed the phone from it’s cradle on her desk and punched in the direct extension to her academic advisor’s office. For the past three years Poppy had spent countless hours in Professor Williams’ office, pouring over class schedules and timelines. He’d always been supportive, if not a little bemused, by Poppy’s fervent need to graduate early. Early on he’d tried to figure out why she was so focused on it, but he’d given up quickly after realizing that once Poppy had made a decision, it was done - never to be altered. Her drive and stubbornness had helped propel her to the top of the Dean’s List and had made her the youngest Editor in Chief of The Monitor, the weekly newspaper of her small liberal arts college. On the third ring, Professor Williams finally picked up. “Ms. Miller. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Poppy scowled - she forgot about the caller ID function. She hated not getting to lead conversations. “Professor Williams. I’m currently looking at very disturbing email which seems to indicate that my application for graduation confirmation has been denied due to an unfulfilled credit requirement.” She heard a sigh through the receiver and then Professor Williams’ deep timbred voice speak soothingly into the phone. “Poppy, this is not a crisis. I promise. There is time to fix it.”

“This semester?” Poppy demanded. She could hear her advisor carefully mulling over his words. Her belly filled with dread as she waited for him to respond.

“Poppy, I’m so sorry. But, barring some extraordinary solution, I just don’t see how we can fix it this semester.”

“No.” Poppy said, simply.

“Poppy, I’m not sur-” Professor Williams was mid sentence before he was cut off, unceremoniously.

“No. There has to be a way. The email said I was short four credit hours in a political science elective. There has to be a class you can get me into.” Her voice had lost some of it’s authoritative edge. Fear and desperation were starting to creep in, softening her plea into a whimper.

After an agonizing silence, Professor Williams finally spoke. “We’re two weeks into the semester. But, let me see what I can come up with. I’ll call you as soon as I have some answers. Ok?”

Poppy let out the breath she’d been holding. Her lungs burned with relief as she blew the air out across her lips. “Thank you. I’ll speak with you soon.”

Across campus, Niall Horan sat in the tiny graduate student office he shared with two other graduate student assistants. It was little more than a glorified closet with harsh overhead lighting, a tiny desk and two old tattered chairs. The walls were littered with schedules, post it notes, and memos from the university. Niall knew each crack in the wall, every pin hole and knick in the heavy wooden door. This tiny place had become his home, almost more familiar than the narrow streets that wound through the tiny hamlet in Ireland where he grew up.

Niall sighed and slumped back in his desk chair, rubbing his huge hands across the two day stubble on his jaw. The past two years of his Ph.D. program had been a whirlwind and he had jumped in head first to his studies, almost to the complete detriment of his personal life. Only his flatmate, Harry, had managed to pull him from the brink of complete social suicide by insisting Niall join him once a week for pints at the dodgy bar just off campus. But even Harry, with all his charm and joie de vivre, couldn’t help Niall land a date. In fact, in the two years Niall had been working on his Ph.D. he'd been on exactly one date. It was such an epic disaster that it had almost become Niall’s claim to fame among the other doctoral candidates, who had gone so far as to affectionately refer to it as “the negative date”. Every time Niall brought it up, Harry couldn't stop himself from cringing at the secondhand embarrassment. Looking back, Niall realized that maybe taking a girl he met in a bar to a student documentary screening wasn’t the best idea. It also may have been a bad move since the documentary was an expose about the recent plight of a newly-discovered South American tribe and their disastrous exposure to twentieth century technology. Turns out, watching a native healer try to treat a snake bite with a makeshift surgical kit wasn't really a turn on for most people. The girl had fled ten minutes in, muttering “you’re hot, but you’re not that hot”, leaving Niall perplexed. All in all, it wasn’t a total loss. Niall thought the film was a fascinating anthropological look at indigenous politics.

Niall shook his head at the memory and pushed back the fringe of his bleached blond hair. It was starting to grow out a bit and he'd been toying with the idea of just letting it go. His older brother, Greg, had insisted it would help him with girls back home. It didn’t work when he was fifteen and it was not helping now almost a decade later. Now it’s mostly out of habit. He tugged on the ends and wondered if anyone would notice if he showed up to class one day a brunette. He was startled out of his day dreaming by a sharp rap on the door. “Oi! Professor Horan, hard at work I see!” Niall snorted and rolled his chair back further into the office so Harry could come in and sit. Harry always seemed to take up as much available space as possible - and not because he was a few inches taller than Niall. Niall envied the way he seems to effortlessly occupy any space he’s in, spreading his calming aura to everyone around him. Niall had never been able to command space like that, always preferring to stay at the peripheral and ease his way into situations. Niall motioned for Harry to sit and leaned back with his long fingers laced behind his head. “Mr. Styles, slummin’ it in the political science wing today?”

Harry picked up a stack of papers and plopped them on his lap as he made himself comfortable. “Well, there’s only so many freshman papers on Phoenician pottery I can read before my eyes start bleeding. Thought I’d pop over and see what you’re up to.” Niall shrugged and sucked a breath in over his teeth. “Not much, I’m afraid. I’ve only got the two sections of senior political theory and my dissertation meetings. M’actually not sure what I’m gonna do with all the spare time.” Harry was only half listening, he was flipping through the stack of papers on his lap. They were quizzes from Niall’s classes and he was perplexed at what he saw.

“Niall?”

Niall hummed in response, but didn't look up from where he was absentmindedly scrolling through emails on his laptop.

“Why are there phone numbers on these quizzes?” Harry’s shuffled through most of the pages to make sure he was seeing correctly. Sure enough, on more than a handful of pages there were phone numbers inked neatly underneath names. Some had a smiley face doodled next to them, some had tiny hearts. “Looks like they’re all next to girls...wait, nope here’s a couple guys too.”

Niall spun in his chair and glanced at what Harry had in his hands. “What d’ya mean? I always get phone numbers on papers. Have since I started teachin’. Do ya not get those as well?”

Harry huffed out a laugh and raised his eyebrows. “Only from the students I end up shagging.”

Niall missed the last part of Harry’s response when his office phone rang. “Niall Horan here. Professor Williams, how are ya sir?” He tucked the receiver into the crook of his shoulder and motioned to Harry that he needed to take the call. Harry nodded and dropped the stack of quizzes back on the seat. Before turning to leave he tapped at his watch and stage whispered, “Eight o’clock, Griffin’s Lair, don’t forget!” Niall nodded and shooed him off, a silent promise to meet up at their usual spot.

Poppy’s phone blared from her desk, drowning out the chatter in the small office. She and her assistant editor, Sabrina were in the middle of a layout meeting for next week’s issue. There were mock ups and articles strewn everywhere, with clippings and glue sticks littering every surface. Poppy groaned and shuffled papers around finally grabbing it panting out a greeting. “Poppy. Glad I caught you! I have good news.” Professor Williams filled her in on how he’d been able to pull some strings for her. He’d managed to get her into a senior seminar political theory class. Poppy collapsed into her desk chair with relief as he told her. But before she could launch into thanking him a hundred times, he gently stopped her. “Poppy, listen. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park. This is a senior seminar. Technically it’s for political theory majors only, but I happen to know one of the graduate assistants that’s teaching it this semester. He’s agreed to override your enrollment status and let you in. It’s the only way you can earn the credits you need this semester. It’s going to be tough. I’m just warning you.” Poppy waved off his cautious tone and tried to reassure him. “I’m sure I’m up to the challenge. I’ll just have to put in some extra work at first to get caught up. I’m just so relieved, honestly. Thank you so much!” Poppy scribbled down the class information on a scrap of paper, silently cursing that she was going to have to cut the layout meeting short if she was going to make it to this new class on time. Sabrina stood and peeked over her shoulder, plucking the paper off the desk to read it. Poppy dropped the phone back in its cradle and spun to face Sabrina. “It’s a goddamn miracle! I’m going to graduate this semester if it kills me Sabrina.” Poppy started shoving notebooks, pencils, and her laptop in her messenger bag, while Sabrina’s eyes darted back and forth from the scrap of paper to her phone. “What? Why’re you staring at your phone? Did you hear me? Williams got me into another class - I’m going to get my credits!”

A smirk spread across Sabrina’s face and she turned the phone to face Poppy. “Poppy Miller, you lucky son of a bitch.” Poppy was wrestling with her jacket and threw a glance at Sabrina’s phone. “What am I looking at?” She was struggling to get the zipper to catch and was only halfway listening.

Sabrina groaned and pushed the phone closer to Poppy’s face. “How dense are you? Niall Horan. You ended up in Niall Horan’s class, Poppy! Look at him! Every undergrad who’s even thought of taking a poli sci class has tried to get him as their teacher. He’s fucking gorgeous, and he has an accent. AN IRISH ACCENT!” Poppy was staring at her friend in sheer bewilderment. Sabrina’s face was flushed and her chest is heaving with each breath she took.

Poppy took the scrap of paper out of Sabrina’s clutches and squinted at her carefully. “Are you gonna be ok?” Sabrina growled and threw her hands up. “You’re hopeless, Miller! You’re graduating this semester, you need to live a little! And here’s the perfect chance! Dazzle him with your wit and intellect!” Poppy laughed and shook her head at her friend’s desperate pleas. “He’s hot, I’ll give you that. But I hate to break it to you, I’m not using this class as some sort of twisted speed date. I just need the A.” Sabrina dropped back down to the floor to finish the layout, waving Poppy off without another glance. Before the door clicked shut, Poppy heard her friend sigh heavily and mutter, “She’s a lost cause.”

Sweat prickled the back of Poppy’s neck as she trudged across campus. It was only the second week of the term and the weather hadn’t yet cooled down from the summer doldrums. Despite Poppy’s tendency to be pulled together and in control with almost every aspect of her life, her appearance was usually the first thing to go to pot. It wasn’t as if she was slovenly by any means, and she cleaned up when the occasion called for it. She actually had a whole closet filled with beautiful suits, flowing summer dresses, and piles of expensive shoes her mother insisted she needed, and refused to stop sending to her. But for days filled with classes, and nights filled with her duties at the paper and studying, Poppy was most often found in flip flops, old chuck taylors, running shorts and whatever college t-shirt or hoodie that happened to be clean. She kept her long, wavy hair meticulously washed, deep conditioned, and trimmed, but you’d never know it since she almost always had it thrown up into a messy knot on her head. Sabrina often referred to Poppy’s outfits as “athletic hobo chic”, which Poppy insisted was a compliment since it contained the word “chic”.

Weaving through the late afternoon throngs of students, Poppy passed through the center of campus. There were groups of students huddled on the steps of the library, talking and sipping on coffee. A few guys that looked a little younger were tossing a frisbee back and forth across a grassy lawn while a few girls sprawled out on a blanket to watch. Dodging a couple walking hand in hand, Poppy stopped to hoist her bag back onto her shoulder. She tucked a few loose pieces of hair back into her hair tie and sighed. For all of her success, Poppy had never quite mastered the art of “college life”. She’d gone to one or two parties freshman year (waste of time really), had a few sour dates and hookups (not all it’s cracked up to be, if she’s honest), and a few close friends (better than a lot of fair weather acquaintances, she’d told herself). It wasn’t exactly that she harbored any regrets really, but on sunny afternoons surrounded by carefree laughter and people actually living in the moment, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d missed out. She shook her head and glanced at her watch, silently cursing herself for getting distracted. “Nice, now you’re gonna be late because of a stupid frisbee. Way to go, Poppy.” She muttered to herself tersely while she jogged down the path to the small brick building tucked behind the graduate library wing. Taking the stairs two at a time, she slid into the classroom with the last few stragglers. Since this was technically a senior seminar, there were only about twenty students milling about. Poppy spied an empty desk in the front row, but off to the side of the room. She hoped it would give her a good view of the board, without drawing too much attention to herself.

Busying herself with pulling out her laptop and getting ready to take notes, Poppy noticed about four or five girls huddled around a desk at the front of the room. Each girl had a reverent sort of look on their faces, and Poppy snorted and rolled her eyes. Looking more closely, Poppy could just make out a pair of long, lanky legs poking out from the desk clad in skinny jeans and trendy hipster chukka boots. One of the girls turned to head back to her her desk and Poppy was suddenly staring into the clearest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Poppy felt the air sucked from her lungs and every cell of her body burned as if they were on fire. His bleached blonde fringe fell flat against his brow, with his thin pink lips parted just enough for Poppy to get a peek at a row of perfectly straight, immaculately white teeth. The moment was shattered seconds late when another student cleared her throat loudly, finally prompting Niall to look away. “Sorry, wha?” Poppy could hear the timbre of his accent carry over the chatter of the the other students. He pulled the pair of round framed glasses from the collar of his shirt and slid them on, trying to see what the other student was showing him in her textbook. Poppy let out the breath she’d been holding and tried to get a hold of herself. She wasn’t here to ogle at the TA, she was here to pass this class and graduate early. Silently chastising herself for letting her hormones get the best of her, she refocused and pulled up a fresh word doc to start taking notes.

Niall cleared his throat and shuffled some papers around on his desk. His throat felt dry and constricted, like he was starving for a full breath of oxygen. He tried swilling water from his green Nalgene bottle and focused on the peeling sticker of the Irish flag plastered to the side. This girl had completely captivated him and he had absolutely no idea why. He assumed she was the last minute addition Professor Williams had phoned him about, but she hadn’t said a word to him yet. For all he knew, she could just be in the wrong room. He became conscious of the room falling silent, signaling the actual start of class. Running his long fingers through his hair he passed out the sign in sheet and went up to the board to start his lesson. “Ok, so last week we talked a bit about how politics interacts with economics. Today we’re going to start our discussion on how that interaction affects relations between industrialized nations in the West.” Niall continued through his bullet points, citing examples from the assigned readings and asking for the students to contribute their own thoughts. For the first time since he started teaching, he found himself drawn to one student. And, as luck would have it, he was drawn to the one student who hadn’t said a word the entire hour. He desperately wanted to hear her voice, but she could hardly be expected to contribute on her first day after the rest of the students had over a week’s worth of lectures. Every few minutes he would allow himself a quick glance to her desk, watching her delicate hands fly across the keyboard of her laptop. She seemed completely focused on the task at hand, looking back and forth from the board to her screen. Niall realized that she seemed hell bent on not making eye contact with him.

With ten minutes left in the class, Niall announced a pop quiz. He was met with a few scattered groans, which made him laugh. He saw the girl’s head pop up over her screen at the sound of his throaty chuckle flowing into the room. She looked a little dazed, like she couldn’t reconcile the sound he was making with his physical appearance. Harry had once told him something similar, that his laugh “sounds like a bunch of angels havin’ a group orgy”. Niall had curled his lip at his friend’s crass description, hoping the mental image it gave him would fade quickly after a few more pints. Niall passed out the quizzes, going over last minute instructions. “Ya got ten minutes to finish this up, you’re free to head out when you’re done.” As he passed Poppy’s desk he placed the paper in front of her carefully, holding his breath so he could hear her whisper a tiny “thank you”. He sat back down and chewed on his nail thoughtfully, watching the her hem and haw over the questions. He silently cursed at himself for giving it to her, it covered material they had discussed last week and he should’ve made an exception for her. “Stupid Niall.” His eyes widened as he looked over and saw her tip her head to the side at him. He thought he’d muttered that under his breath, but apparently he was a little louder than he wanted. He felt his cheeks go hot in embarrassment and stared back down at his hands.

Students started filing out of the class, dropping their quiz on Niall’s desk. Poppy was feeling hot and her palms were damp. She knew exactly three of the questions on this quiz. For the first time she was unprepared for something and she hated the feeling. She closed her eyes and quietly started to count. “10...9...8...7…” When she got down to “1” she took a breath and filled in the rest of her answers. She stood up and gathered her things, suddenly noticing she was the only student left in the room. “Oh. Oh, um, sorry….I’m probably over the time, but I um, didn’t know some of the - well anyway. Here.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and thrust the paper towards Niall. His mouth was open, and he was searching her face, seemingly struck speechless. She tipped the paper a little closer to him and that seemed to shake him out of his silence.

“Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, don’t worry about this one, I’ll give you the points for it. Shoulda told ya that earlier ‘cause ya know, you’re new and I’m sure ya haven’t gotten the text yet.” He swallowed heavily, his eyes never leaving hers. Poppy picked at her cuticle, not sure what to do. The silence was awkward but she didn’t want to look away. He seemed genuinely kind and sweet and a little naïve. He smiled at her and nodded, and she ducked her head and turned to walk out.

“Oh! Poppy, wait!” Poppy spun and walked the few steps back over to Niall. He pushed her quiz back towards her and handed her a pen. “You forgot to leave your phone number at the top.” Poppy’s smile faded and her stomach suddenly turned sour. Of course. He’s trying to hit on her. She glared at him, her eyes trailing from his clear blue eyes down to his thick fingers gingerly offering her the pen. She leaned back and jutted out her hip, crossing her arms in defiance. The placid expression on Niall’s face started to falter and he limply dropped his hand away from her. Confusion was written across his features, and his brows began to pull in slightly. “What’s the mat-.”

“You know, everyone said you were hot. But nobody said you’d be sleazy. If you wanted to ask me out, you could’ve been a gentleman about it.” Without another word, she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Niall a little red in the face and a lot confused.

He slunk down into his seat and stared after her. Running his hand through his hair he breathed out, “What the fuck just happened?”

A/N: This would not be possible without the help, support, and encouragement of my dear friends and betas, @dibsonthat1d / @lucyvanpelt78 / @squirrely83. Massive thanks to you!

#making the grade #my writing #Niall and Poppy #Niall fic #niall au #uni niall

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shanannigansthebibliophile · 6 years

Text

Hey guys!

I’m back with Part 2 of my TBR Tackle! After another successful school drop-off (Again, she didn’t even look back *Sniff), I am going to pick up where I left off yesterday. If you missed Part 1, click here!

Science Fiction & Dystopian

Fly Paper: A Novel by Chris Angus

How do you fight a deadly disease that comes from beyond planet Earth?

When a 2,000-year-old mummy is unearthed in central China, investigators from all over the world fly in to Washington, DC, for a top-secret meeting, hoping to find an answer to its mysterious genetic anomalies.

But the scientists may have mistakenly released a new, deadly disease of extraterrestrial origins in the process of examining the genetic markers of the ancient mummy. The devastating human error causes a worldwide plague—one that penetrates the barriers of the human immune system. Sino expert Eric Logan and archaeologist Dr. Marcia Kessler lead an expedition back to the icy glaciers of China to extract a much older 20,000-year-old mummy, which could help them formulate a cure. Even as they embark on their mission, the strange illness afflicts the people around them, turning men into mindless monsters.

The team retreats to a remote Buddhist monastery and must hold off a vicious army of victims. As they wrestle with the possibility that they may be the last living humans on earth, someone finds an ancient burial object that may hold the key to ending the apocalyptic epidemic . . .

My Thoughts…

Sounds really good right? Well, it was okay but it wasn’t all I had hoped for.

It was well written and engaging enough, but it was missing something. Unfortunately, I can’t quite say what that something is but it left me feeling a bit unsatisfied.

Overall, a decent read with a good premise but had a lackluster ending. As the song says, “That don’t impress me much”.

Rating… C+

The Dreams by Matthew R. Flemming

Waking up in an unknown forest with four strangers, James has an unsettling feeling that the group is not alone. As tension mounts and he finds himself questioning the motives and loyalty of his companions, one of the group members disappears, leaving only a pool of blood behind. It soon becomes clear that something very large and unnatural is in the deep secret places of the forest. And it knows they are there.

My Thoughts…

This was originally a DNF. The first one in a long while. I loved the premise and the cover is brilliant, but it was so messy. Disorganized with way too many words. I hate overly descriptive writing!

This what I put on Goodreads:

DNF: Good premise by lacking proper execution. I couldn’t stick with it.

REVISED…

OK I finished it but only because I needed to know how these poor suckers ended up here. I still maintain my original opinion.

Yes, I went back and finished because I felt bad. It did not get any better!

Rating… D-

Ghost Virus by Graham Masterson

The girl had been staring into her mirror all morning before she picked up the small bottle of sulphuric acid and poured it over her forehead.

Samira was a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. What could have brought her to this? DC Jerry Pardoe and DS Jamila Patel of Tooting Police suspect it’s suicide. But then a meek husband kills his wife, and the headteacher of the local school throws her pupils out of a window. It’s no longer a random outbreak of horrific crimes. It’s a deadly virus. And it’s spreading. Somehow, ordinary Londoners are being infected with an insatiable lust to murder. All of the killers were wearing second-hand clothes. Could these garments be possessed by some supernatural force?

The death count is multiplying. Now Jerry and Jamila must defeat the ghost virus, before they are all infected…

My Thoughts…

This book is hard to classify. It’s a little bit sci-fi, a little procedural, with a paranormal backbone. The premise is a bit misleading, which I guess is the point but I thought I was going to be reading a good plague story.

I loved everything about this book until the origin of the virus is revealed. Then I was like, “WTF? Are you kidding me?” And not in a good way. It’s just so silly! Here I was thinking that this book had everything. Suspense, gore, mysterious virus, and then the author went and ruined it for me.

Maybe you will like it and won’t find the ending ridiculous. You’ll have to make that decision for yourselves.

Rating… C

Blue Skin: A Dystopian Vampire Thriller (Book #1) by Steven Jenkins

The world has turned inward, away from the sun, in the wake of a mysterious disease that has altered the human race. No longer able to bear healthy human children, our mothers and daughters have brought vampire-like hybrids into the world, and with it a new order. Now that reproduction has been banned, those left with young children face a terrible and devastating decision – turn your babies over to the government or pay the price. For young Freya, keeping her brother hidden is the only real option.

Enemies of the state, Freya must stand between her family and the forces of a fearful world. Although her brother may not be human, there is little else separating her and those of the blue skin.

Choices will be made. Lines will be drawn. The battle for humanity has only just begun.

BLUE SKIN is the first book in a 5 part vampire dystopian, thriller horror series.

My Thoughts…

Ooh I really enjoyed this book and the follow-up, Blue Skin: Book #2 that was released this past May. Good vampire stories are really hard to come by these days since the genre was drowned in vamp tales due to the Twilight phenomenon.

Blue Skin however, is an interesting mix of vampire and apocalyptic. The fact that the vampires are children make it especially horrifying.

Great writing, a unique plot and a strong female protagonist make this book appealing to all sorts of readers. I’m looking forward to reading more in this series!

Rating… A+

Contemporary Fiction & YA Fiction

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (Books 1-3) by Jenny Han

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before is the story of Lara Jean, who has never openly admitted her crushes, but instead wrote each boy a letter about how she felt, sealed it, and hid it in a box under her bed. But one day Lara Jean discovers that somehow her secret box of letters has been mailed, causing all her crushes from her past to confront her about the letters: her first kiss, the boy from summer camp, even her sister’s ex-boyfriend, Josh. As she learns to deal with her past loves face to face, Lara Jean discovers that something good may come out of these letters after all

P.S. I Still Love You

Lara Jean didn’t expect to really fall for Peter. She and Peter were just pretending. Except suddenly they weren’t. Now Lara Jean is more confused than ever. When another boy from her past returns to her life, Lara Jean’s feelings for him return too. Can a girl be in love with two boys at once?

Always and Forever, Lara Jean

Lara Jean is having the best senior year.

And there’s still so much to look forward to: a class trip to New York City, prom with her boyfriend Peter, Beach Week after graduation, and her dad’s wedding to Ms. Rothschild. Then she’ll be off to college with Peter, at a school close enough for her to come home and bake chocolate chip cookies on the weekends.

Life couldn’t be more perfect!

At least, that’s what Lara Jean thinks . . . until she gets some unexpected news.

Now the girl who dreads change must rethink all her plans—but when your heart and your head are saying two different things, which one should you listen to?

My Thoughts…

I’m lumping all 3 of these books together, not because they don’t deserve individual reviews (They totally do!), but because I read them all together, one right after the other like a big novel.

Why you ask? Well I watched the Netflix movie of course, and fell in love! (Read review)

As soon as the credits rolled, I quickly purchased all 3 books and had myself a lovely binge read. All 3 were fantastic! Nostalgia inducing, charming, adorable, and funny. I really enjoyed them and I’m happy with how the author ended the trilogy.

Want to hear something crazy though? I liked the movie more and something tells me I’m not the only one.

The actors had such great chemistry! ‘Lara Jean’ and ‘Peter’ were so good together on screen which added a whole new dimension to the story. Honestly, they made the story and I really hope the other books get movies too.

Rating… A+’s all around!

Girl in Pieces by Kathleen Glasgow

Charlotte Davis is in pieces. At seventeen she’s already lost more than most people lose in a lifetime. But she’s learned how to forget. The broken glass washes away the sorrow until there is nothing but calm. You don’t have to think about your father and the river. Your best friend, who is gone forever. Or your mother, who has nothing left to give you.

Every new scar hardens Charlie’s heart just a little more, yet it still hurts so much. It hurts enough to not care anymore, which is sometimes what has to happen before you can find your way back from the edge.

My Thoughts…

Warning: Major Triggers! Mental illness, Abuse, Addiction, Self-harm, Suicide, and Disturbing Scenes (Just to name a few).

I would give this AMAZING book 6 stars if I could! It’s riveting, evocative, heart-wrenching and incredibly illuminating. It’s not the easiest book to read but if you can stomach the darkness, it’s a brilliant story about survival and self-discovery. The protagonist ‘Charlie’ will take you on one hell of a journey but it’s worth it. Just be prepared to feel every emotion on the spectrum.

Honestly, I have nothing negative to say. I truly loved it, if that’s the right word, and can’t recommend it enough!

Rating… A+++

Well, I’ve caught up a ton with these two posts. They’re certainly some of the longest posts I’ve ever written lol. Like I said before, I had really gotten behind with my writing but I’ve never stopped reading (I’m 18 books ahead on my yearly Goodreads challenge) and I never will.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on these books, especially if you’ve read them.

Until next time!

#TBR Tackle & Mini Reviews (Part 2) #BookBlogger #BookReviews #Books #AmReading #BookHaul #Thriller #Romance #YA Hey guys! I'm back with Part 2 of my TBR Tackle! After another successful school drop-off (Again, she didn't even look back *Sniff), I am going to pick up where I left off yesterday.

#Amazon #Bibliophile #Book Blog #Book Haul #Book Reviews #Books #Bookworm #Goodreads #Kobo #Reading #Romance #Shanannigans&039; Picks #Summer Reads #TBR #Thriller #To the Boys I&039;ve Loved Before #Womens Fiction #YA Fiction #YA Romance

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dutchmanonthefringe-blog · 7 years

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'They Took our Jobs!!'. How Artificial Intelligence might be the Litmus test of the Human Species.

"The supreme quality for leadership is unquestionably integrity. Without it, no real success is possible, no matter whether it is on a section gang, a football field, in an army, or in an office."-Dwight D. Eisenhower- Just when you thought things couldn't possibly get any weirder, the cosmic joker recently played his ultimate trump-card, and quite literally this time. A depraved egomaniac at the wheel: A walking textbook example of the Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I challenge anyone to look up said ailment in DSM-V, the standard classification of mental disorders used by psychologists and psychiatrists all over the world, and disagree with me. , His orange glow was nature's final desperate attempt to warn us, but it went unnoticed. America chose the carrot over the string-bean, the outsider over the wife. Of Course, more subtle things were at play here than initially meet the eye. Not since that German bastard reared his ugly head during World War two, have affect heuristics been utilized with such effectiveness. What everyone said wouldn't happen, happened. You laugh at first, simply because of the surreal quality of it all. Like being stuck in a David Lynch movie. But then the horror of it all begins to dawn on you. If someone would have described the current state of affairs to me a decade ago, I would have asked what he or she was using to produce such a nightmarish trip. Unfortunately, this joke the gods played on us couldn't have come at a worse moment in time. Great challenges are looming around the corner: With the political climate as volatile as it is becoming and increasing social and religious polarization, with climate change being an undeniable occurrence everywhere around us and with massive unemployment due to the rise in artificial intelligence looming, just to name a few, we have a difficult road ahead of us. It will be far less forgiving than we have grown accustomed to in the last 50 years or so. If we nod off or do not make the right turns it very well might steer us towards social upheaval, the likes of which the world has not seen in quite some time. We might be aware of a lot of these problems and are even working on a solution for some, but to others, society remains blind. Our first reaction, letting a fool hearted sociopath set the stage for us, does not bode well... The Boiling frog From avacuppa.tumblr.com It remains a mystery why we accept incompetence from our political leaders, especially compared to people in our everyday lives. If we translate the incompetence of "he who must not be named" to any other field in life, such a fumbling display would immediately bedeemed unacceptable and purged without a second thought. Yet in politics today for some reason, total fuck ups either go by unnoticed, or are just accepted as a fact of life. We are the proverbial frog boiling in the moral filth and incompetence of our leaders, and we are loving it. Another example of the cultural masochism that is slowly invading the West. But I digress. Litmus test Massive unemployment caused by the increasing capabilities of A.I. is a perfect example of one of the challenges facing us that has gone by largely unnoticed. This will probably remain so until jobs are already disappearing like boys at a Catholic summer camp. Of course there is the odd whistle-blower. Some economists have been talking about this issue for years, but their warnings went by unheeded. The public at large remained unaware, while politicians consciously avoided the subject as much as possible. I suppose it has always been this way. Mankind tends to shy away from acknowledging a problem until it literally smacks them in the face. History is laden with examples where man could have seen things coming -and did- but chose to ignore it as long as possible. By the time ignoring is no longer an option, the effort needed to overcome said problem is vastly greater than before. A timeless fallacy, annoying enough on the individual level, but downright dangerous as a species. Whether this is a semi-conscious effort, like the ostrich putting its head into the sand, or some kind of fuck up in our cognitive make up remains to be seen. What needn't be forgotten though is the fact that we are still here, so we're obviously doing something right from time to time. After all, it is when faced with the most horrible of times that mankind often shows itself in its true glory, overcoming obstacles through willpower and creative thinking. And we are going to need a lot of it if we are to get through the rise of Artificial Intelligence unscathed. It stands to reason that automation through A.I. has the potential to radically alter our society in positive ways. From improved diagnosis processes at the hospital to cars driving themselves without error, A.I. will ultimately lead to an enormous increase in the quality of our lives on a global scale. Providing we actually make it to this point. As the capabilities of A.I. keep increasing more and more jobs will become eligible to being performed by it, and probably a hell of a lot better than its human counterparts. This is no longer just science fiction, it's happening already. Manufacturing was the first industry where we saw robots and automation eliminating human jobs, but as robots and A.I. are becoming more affordable, more intelligent and more widespread every day, it is difficult to think of an industry that will be left unaffected. Deep Learning: The game changer Up until recently however new jobs replaced the old when automation made human workers obsolete. But recent developments in the creation of neural networks and, in particular, a process called Deep Learning, are making this scenario increasingly unlikely. Some explaining is in order here: Neural nets have been around since the 1940's and are basically computer systems modeled on the human brain and nervous system. Recently however, it spawned an eerie child called deep learning. You might have heard of it when Google created a program that could recognize cats in YouTube videos. Cats own the internet, needless to say. The hidden layers of deep learning A form of machine learning, deep learning mimics the human brain, evaluating input through multiple levels of analysis and rules, to arrive at a desired output. Each level is more specific than the last, with multiple connections and feedback-loops between them, while having the ability to create new systems and connections. You can provide it with a shitload of input, ask what you want to know, and Mr. Data will give you the answer. This is where things get unsettling: We have not yet been able to find out how it got to its conclusions, simply because the network has become way too complicated to understand. Say you provide a deep learning system with a couple of hundred thousand patient records and ask it to detect and predict disease in them. The answers might - and in fact did - astound people. An MIT professor called Regina Barzilay, determined to apply deep learning to medicine after surviving breast cancer, actually built such a system. It was able to diagnose and predict disease with incredible success rates, even the ones that are notoriously difficult to spot for physicians, like schizophrenia, far surpassing the current standard. Not being able to see how it arrived at its conclusions however, it is too early to actually let it diagnose patients outside of the lab. But it is only a matter of time before this bump in the road is smoothed out and doctors too will be in danger of being replaced. Of course RoboDoc will fuck up sometimes and pull of the occasional head during a chiropractic procedure. But it will be a small price to pay for nearly flawless diagnosticians. I can already see the C3PO unit in a white doctors' coat, walking around frantically while holding a patient’s severed head. "Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry about all this! I beg you not to disassemble me!"... It's estimated that between 35 and 50 percent of jobs in existence today are at risk of being lost to automation in the next 20 years. Repetitive blue collar jobs might be first, but in time everybody will be at risk. Bio-hacking, the process of enhancing human capabilities through implants, will maybe slow the process a bit, but A.I. will surpass us eventually and reach a level where not a single job remains that cannot be done just as well or better by an artificial system. The jobs that will remain the longest will require high levels of expertise, intelligence and creativity and there won't be a whole lot of them to go around. This situation constitutes the perfect recipe for the expression of the more depraved and beastly facets of human behavior. Explosive economic and social stratification would be unavoidable , under the current political and monetary system. Biohacking will likely only aggravate the economic differences, given that said implants won't come cheap, at least not at first. Many economists and historians insist that in the end technology always creates more jobs than it destroys. This might be so if global workload is concerned, but those jobs won't be going to human applicants. They forget to take into account that up till now we were always behind the wheel of technology. Yet now that it has started driving itself, literally, the game changed entirely. It’s out of our control to the extent that it now directs its own course of evolution. Of course we can pull the plug, for now at least, but we’ll be unable to constrain what it can and cannot become capable of. History is a notoriously good teacher, but in this case a deceitful bitch. Now what?Without (m)any jobs to go around, our current money based economy will buckle like some overaged steroid shooting pincushion of a bodybuilder, whose kidneys have finally blown up. Likewise, the seams of the current economic system are beginning to crack. Only a matter of time before it bursts completely, revealing its putrid insides to the world. The conclusion is inescapable: The current economic system is becoming obsolete and is in desperate need of an overhaul. It is a product of a period in time where scarcity was a reality. But technology is steadily reaching a point where, assuming we take full use its potential, scarcity becomes a thing of the past, making our money based system irrelevant and no longer conducive to our evolution.Instead a resource based economy, with sustainable use of available resources as one of its core values, would be able to produce more than enough goods to provide everybody on the planet with a good standard of living. appears to be the next logical step. Government can finally be based on science, facts and reason, instead of false charisma, parlor tricks and campaign budget . I'm willing to bet a deep learning A.I. will probably be quite adept at devising such a system. Organized religion operates with the same social irrelevancy and merely exists as a barrier to personal and social growth, perpetuating a closed worldview based on a finite and archaic perception of the emergent universe we live in. Just as the monetary system, it once served a purpose in our growth process, but is now only weighing us down. Time to shrug it off, tie it to a tree and get the fuck out. Run like mad and see where our creativity takes us. The movie Zeitgeist: Addendum dealt with this subject, but abandoned credibility by suggesting this flawed system is a conspiracy by the upper class/ big corporations to keep the working class enslaved. Fuck, that is giving way too much credit to a group of degenerates with the moral sense of a dung-beetle. But that's too vast of a subject matter to dive into right now and certainlyworthy of its own treatise. The point is that whatever we decide to do, we better hurry. The longer we wait, the bigger the shit-storm that is headed for us, eventually culminating in an orgy of human animalistic behavior that could kick us right back to the agricultural age, if we decide not to act at all within the next decade or so. And it would be well deserved too. Now don't get me wrong, I am a relatively optimistic person by nature. We probably will get through this and beautiful transformations of the human race as a whole might be ahead. When forced, mankind can evolve pretty quickly. But as with any transformation, it won't happen without a few hard learned lessons, broken bones and perhaps worse. One thing is for sure: Putting idiots in power, whose religion is money, certainly isn't going to help. It is imperative to remember that next time you get to decide who will get the privilege to decide for you. Judging by the conduct these first months of he who shall remain unnamed for the entire article, this moment might just come sooner rather than later. Thank God... Sources "Artificial intelligence: The impact on jobs Automation and anxiety." The Economist. June 25 2016. Web. http://www.economist.com/news/special-report/21700758-will-smarter-machines-cause-mass-unemployment-automation-and-anxiety. "DSM-IV and DSM-5 Criteria for the Personality Disorders." Psi.uba.ar. American Psychiatric Association. Web. http://www.psi.uba.ar/academica/carrerasdegrado/psicologia/sitios_catedras/practicas_profesionales/820_clinica_tr_personalidad_psicosis/material/dsm.pdf. Clark, Liat "Google brain simulator identifies cats on YouTube." Wired. Google X, June 26 2012. Web. http://www.wired.co.uk/article/google-brain-recognises-cats. Frey, Carl B and Michael Osborne. "The Future of Employment: How susceptible are jobs to computerization?" Oxford Martin School. September 2013 http://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/publications/view/1314. Print. Klein, Ezra "Yuval Hariri on why humans won’t dominate Earth in 300 years." VOX. march 27 2017. Web. http://www.vox.com/2017/3/27/14780114/yuval-harari-ai-vr-consciousness-sapiens-homo-deus-podcast. Knight, Will "The Dark Secret at the Heart of AI." MIT Technology Review. April 11, 2017. Web. https://www.technologyreview.com/s/604087/the-dark-secret-at-the-heart-of-ai/. Statt, Nick "Elon Musk launches Neuralink, a venture to merge the human brain with AI." The Verge. march 27 2017. Web. http://www.theverge.com/2017/3/27/15077864/elon-musk-neuralink-brain-computer-interface-ai-cyborgs. Wallace, Brian "How Cognitive Bias Played Into The Most Divisive Election Ever." Dumb Little Man. March 29 2017. Web. https://www.dumblittleman.com/how-trump-won/.

#artificial intelligence #politics #technology #future #economy

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