#100 metros

[mostro-rotto]

Abbiamo tutti una malattia degenerativa e incurabile che è la vita

[agelessphotography]

La sortie de metro (Metro Exit), Paris, Sabine Weiss, 1955

[laithraihan]

N'oubliez pas vos effets personnels

[vikingknight90]

ghostflower headcanon #24:

Miles definitely loves to put on background music for him and Gwen to make out to

[dezertvideogames]

Artyom Through Anna's Scope

[pixiishi]

read the pynch first kiss scene today and then happened upon two ravens very close together. coincidence?

[ziracona]

I love that every wiki is like ‘You get to the red line and it’s revealed Pavel is a high ranking officer’ and I’m like I knew that. I mean I didn’t know he was a major specifically, but he definitely told me he was an officer when we were on the surface.

Which begs the question: did he forget he was pretending to be a grunt and let it slip, because he got so comfortable around Artyom.

Or

My personal and much more funny theory. Did he just realize it would mean absolutely like nothing 0% difference in suspicion and perception of him from Artyom if he knew he was an officer.

[sweet-pinkitty]

Koi100+ | General Election 2023 My boyfriend No.1

Result Announcement

The top 30 people who made it through, the preliminary rounds and will participate in the final round are:

[crabfungi]

does anyone else do that thing where you try to look up one of your interests but you accidentally end up mashing two together

the amount of times ive looked up "splaton" is concerning (splatoon, spamton)

[twentytriesbyt]

T tries #theproductivitything

27 - 29/6/24, 1/7/24 | 8 - 11

Got a lot done by the end of June

Manuscript

Call old client x 2

Add KKSP references

Training sessions

Speak with colleague about G's assessment

Read

Also went for lunch with a friend and shopped a bit :)

[sluttypatrickstar]

i am never going to be good at cryptic crosswords but i am going to smash my head against them for as long as i enjoy it

[deadrlngers]

love it when books come with a full map so i can check every single time the names of places that are mentioned even multiple times like a madman with bad memory

[lydskisses]

[INSTOCK] Voltage Inc Official Merch 🌟

All prices are in Singapore dollar (SGD). Mailing to you is additional. PayPal and Wise are accepted for international buyers.

💕 Release Poster Ver. Postcards

Please take the top row postcards with one from the bottom.

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・Kyobashi SGD$3

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#voltageinc #love365 #love365findyourstory #voltagelove365 #herloveintheforce #kissedbythebaddestbidder #kingsofparadise #metropd #100恋 #100シーンの恋

[s2z]

Riding the rails

The journey starts in Sunshine, crammed into the well-worn bones of an X’Trapolis, Melbourne’s stalwart soldier of the rail. It’s old-school—still does the job, still rocks with the rattle and hum of thousands of passengers every day, and today, every inch of it is packed. You’re shoulder-to-shoulder with workers, students, city-dwellers, all of them swaying in a jumbled rhythm as the train barrels toward the CBD. This isn’t some smooth glide; it’s a raw, communal push forward, the X’Trapolis clanking along, air thick with murmured conversations and the smell of early-morning takeaway coffee. Here, space is a commodity, and every seat and handrail is precious real estate.

The city is a mad scramble, as always. People disembark in waves, pouring out at each stop, only to be replaced by new faces rushing in. It’s chaos, a sort of metallic bloodstream pulsing with life. The X’Trapolis is all utility, no frills—nicks in the seats, squeaky doors, overhead announcements that crackle with half-hearted vigour. It feels lived in, real. And by the time you reach the CBD, the X’Trapolis is heaving, unloading its cargo of commuters, every one of them on a tight timeline.

You make the switch to the HCMT at Flinders Street. Now, this is a different beast. The High Capacity Metro Train was engineered to be the future, but right now, that future is nearly deserted. You step onto it, expecting another packed car, but instead, you’re greeted by a sprawl of empty seats. Maybe a couple of fellow travellers here and there, but mostly it’s quiet, empty. The HCMT is like stepping into an echo chamber, a sleek, minimalist marvel waiting for a crowd that never showed up.

Leaving the CBD, the HCMT slides through the stations and suburbs, its polished metal sheen looking almost out of place in the quieter stretches. The seats sit pristine, untouched, waiting for the full force of rush hour that, out here, never arrives. You can hear the electric hum of the tracks, every automated announcement crystal clear in the emptiness. It’s clinical, like a sterile experiment in high-speed solitude. This train was built for mass transit, but out here, you’re cruising through Melbourne’s edge like it’s some private charter.

Beyond the sprawl of the CBD, the suburbs stretch out under the morning sun, fading into the skeletal outliers on the way to East Pakenham. The HCMT barrels ahead, past stations with pristine platforms and empty benches, past new estates and construction sites, the occasional half-built house standing like a sentinel on the horizon. Inside, the quiet feels heavier by the minute, that futuristic aesthetic almost absurd in its isolation. Every line, every polished edge is all about efficiency and speed, but in this emptiness, it’s surreal, like being chauffeured through an unfinished dream.

By the time you pull into East Pakenham, the HCMT feels like it’s barely broken a sweat. This thing was built to handle Melbourne at full capacity, but right now, it’s overkill—like bringing a spaceship to a go-kart race. You step off, back onto solid ground, watching as the train idles, gleaming, ready for the rush that isn’t here yet. It’s a strange, quiet end to the ride, a taste of a future that’s still waiting for the city to catch up.

[seeksstaronmewni]

Dazzled by the MGM cartoon Dance of the Weed (1941) from start to finish — anyone ever think about how gorgeous and realistic backgrounds in 1940s cartoons are?

Even the dark, cloudy, eerie shots are stunning, and no one was credited for their hard work (except for Rudolf Ising of course).

Following a 4K/8K rescan of the animation cels and backgrounds, I'd go for some of these scenes' paintings...

Tweet version here.

[dansconcepts]

Megamind Komahina AU (MegaLuck)

I saw this post on Youtube by @/Mcdonalds-Qiqi and I was like I should 100% write about this. And that's what I did. It's not done, like, at all, but it's prob the longest thing I've ever written (6000 words is a lot for me). I rewatched Megamind for it and that was a fun watch and YES this is 100% just Megamind but with Komahina flavouring so have a little taste with some scenes under the cut.

(Also this wasn't gonna be my first writing post but I mean I'm silly at heart sometimes yknow.)

If someone asked Komaeda how he was doing, he’d usually respond with “Fine, but I’m sure my luck will kick in at some point.” Had they asked him now, he’d say, “Ah, I’m fine” and not dwell any further on what would be considered quite an unlucky day. Alas, good luck will surely come out of this, even if his body is used as a vessel to do so. 

Falling from a high depth does not feel like flying. 

It just feels like falling from a high altitude, and an instinctive part of himself still wants to salvage this, remain alive even after losing essentially everything. He always loses everything in the end, doesn’t he? This is something he’s prepared for his entire life. Yet, of course, it still doesn’t seem to curb that jolt of displeasure that permeates through his body, the uncertainty in knowing that you want to cling and push everything away at the same time just to preserve your… emotions, fickle as they are. [But he’s the reason he’s here, after all].

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When it came down to it, he was lucky to live, even if that luck is substantiated by losing his parents and meeting the other that had everything given to him on a silver platter. 

He and Naegi weren’t in the same class, but whenever his luck struck, Makoto was there to stop it, and everyone blamed him for the bad things that happened. He couldn’t hate them for it either. He blames himself too.

Some people don't really believe in such unseeable forces. Yet how else could he explain a plane going rogue, and being the only living being to see the terrible aftermath of it? Of experiencing being kidnapped, and being able to get out of that? Who else could it be besides Lady Luck?

Yet he is grateful to her. Otherwise, how else would he be rich? Be smart of mind, besides being tainted in health? He should be grateful...

He should be.

But he looks at his arm and only speaks to the metal that is there, the little characters on the screen being his only company. Everyone else stares at the teacher pointing at the board toward something he figured out already, when he last snuck a glance at it anyway. Now, he's left with his familiar position of facing brown wallpaper. It's a very boring brown. It's worse when he has to hear his classmates talking about him. They're all so void of doing anything useful.

"Can we pwease pwease pwease do something?! This is, like, soooo boring!"

The class hushes her, along with her fellow companion on the screen. Indeed, his classmates would be more useful in another way. They're so predictable.

In a quieter tone, the pink-haired girl looks up from the console in her hands to say, "You can go play the quiet game, Junko. That'll surely entertain you, I think." And immediately looks back down. Junko squawks her protests. He wonders if Chiaki is actually playing a game, or if the sprite's just for show.

Nagito hums. The AI instantly blinks at him, crossing her arms. "The fuck? What's got you looking so happy?"

"Hope is going to be plentiful today."

"What the hell's that supposed to mea-"

BOOM!

"OH HELL YEAH!"

"JUNKO!!!"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hajime blearily opens his eyes. Light blinds his vision, and he blinks it away. As it clears, fluffy white hair and pale skin greet him, a white T-shirt hanging loosely off their thin frame. Their long eyelashes frame the entrancing evergreen eyes, with a foggy dreaminess melting into him. Is this an angel?

"Oh, you're awake." The voice says. 

Who...? "Leave me alone."

The person steps back. "Sorry, I'm not about to do that when you look that tired. Are you okay? You seem pretty out of it."

He stares outside. There's a beautiful moon out, and again, no stars. Typical. "...It's been a rough day." He cuddles the soft fabric closer. So nice and warm-

Wait... soft fabric?

He immediately looks down to the dark green clothing in his hand.

"Oh, yeah, you started shivering so I just gave you my sweater. You're free to keep it if you want."

His face burns, and he wordlessly tosses the sweater back. "Thanks, but I'm fine. Who are you? I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else besides Touko."

The pale man's smile turns serene. "Ah, I’m new, I started a while back. I’m helping Touko clear out some essentials since the building is getting renovations. It should be happening fairly soon, so let’s get out of here, shall we?"

"Really?" He doesn't recall anything like that happening, but he wouldn't be surprised considering Naegi is...

"Alright, I’ll come with you."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Junko. Where the hell is Komaeda?" Hajime snarls.

Now, Nagito knows he should say something to that, but… He said my name.

"Uh…" He stutters. 

"Junko! Don't hurt him!" He hears his own voice say. He looks to his arm, where Junko's sprite sends a cheeky wink. He should probably figure out when she decided to record his voice later...

Unfortunately for him, Hajime only glares at him harder. "I will not fucking hesitate, you bitch! Let him go!"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hajime’s taking quite a while. He doesn’t resent it, he shall wait however long he needs to, but this is a little unusual for him. If anything, Hajime’s quite punctual. He can’t even talk to Junko or Chiaki, since they seem to have closed off their connection with him.

The reporter finally shows up, a little messy. His ahoge is more limp than normal. He swiftly pulls the velvet chair to sit on. "God, sorry I'm late Komaeda." He huffs.

"Oh, it's no worries, Hinata-kun. I understand why you might not have wanted to come for trash like m-"

"No! It's not that!" He's quickly met with. The white-haired man easily smiles. So easy. The frown turns into a pout. "Oh, you're teasing me again."

"Haha, sorry. It's really fun." Hajime opens his mouth to protest. Ah, can't have that. "What happened?" He shoots out.

The other's mouth shuts closed. Olive eyes stare him down warily, and he tilts his head. The look is 100% his we're not done with this topic but I'm dropping it because you really love doing this shit, yet he really just wants to know what has Hajime so disheveled. If someone hurt him-

Hajime immediately dives into what happened within the past few hours, being tossed around by Fragment and how Fragment's his best friend while he's left with dread pooling within him.

"I love him, I do, but right now he really doesn't need these powers. The last thing he needs is another reason to feel perfect for Sonia. I’ve been trying to help him deal with rejection, but this really… really fucked with him. And shit went down."

Why would Fragment attack Hinata-kun, this wasn't meant to happen-

Hajime shuts his eyes. He rubs his temples. "I'd rather not deal with all this. Let's just eat."

He resists the urge to bite his lip. The temptation to comfort is so high, but knowing he was the cause of it...

Furrowed eyes meet his gaze, and soften. He gulps. A tanned hand reaches out, and he reaches out his own-

For his glass.

"To you, Komaeda, for being the not insane part of my life right now." Hajime grins, lifting his cup in the air.

Komaeda chuckles politely. If only you knew.

"I'm always happy to be with you, Hajime."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[He's hoping to get lucky one last time.]

“Providing hope… feels pretty good.”