#broadstone

[streetsofdublin]

LUAS TRAM STOP AT BROADSTONE AND THE ENTRANCE TO GRANGEGORMAN UNIVERSITY CAMPUS

Broadstone railway station was the Dublin terminus of the Midland Great Western Railway (MGWR), located in the Dublin suburb of Broadstone. The site also contained the MGWR railway works and a steam locomotive motive power depot.

I USED A SIGMA DP1 QUATTRO I am still experimenting with my old Sigma DP1 Quattro and today, 24 April 2023, I photographed in manual mode and underexposed as the camera was inclined to over expose despite any settings that I make. In the “Lotus-Eaters” episode of James Joyce’s Ulysses Bloom imagines that the couple leaving the Grosvenor Hotel are “Off to the country: Broadstone probably,” and…

[perfectsolutionsgarage2]

The Opulent Charm of Palladio at Broadstone: A Luxurious Shopping Escape in Citrus Heights, CA

Immerse yourself in opulence and refinement at Palladio at Broadstone, an expansive shopping haven nestled in the heart of Citrus Heights, California.

This haven of retail sophistication presents a diverse array of high-end shops, gourmet eateries, and world-class entertainment options. Its meticulously curated selection of stores caters to discerning shoppers in search of distinctive, upscale merchandise.

Moreover, the welcoming atmosphere of Palladio at Broadstone cultivates a feeling of community and inclusion.

Whether you're savoring culinary delights, indulging in a shopping spree, or simply relishing the vibrant ambiance, Palladio at Broadstone assures an unparalleled experience.

Come, explore, and become a part of our exclusive shopping community.

Exceptional Shopping at Palladio

A multitude of high-end retail establishments awaits perceptive shoppers at Palladio, offering an unmatched variety of luxury goods and designer brands. Featuring over 55 upscale boutiques and major retailers, Palladio caters to those with an appreciation for life's finer things.

From the latest fashion trends at Nordstrom Rack to exquisite jewelry at Jared, there's something for everyone. Home décor enthusiasts will find inspiration at Pottery Barn, while tech aficionados can explore cutting-edge gadgets at Apple. For beauty connoisseurs, Sephora offers a wide range of premium cosmetics.

With its thoughtfully curated array of stores, Palladio delivers an extraordinary shopping experience, beckoning you to become a part of this exclusive community. Embrace the allure of luxury shopping and discover your unique sense of belonging at Palladio.

Culinary and Entertainment Highlights

Palladio at Broadstone not only captivates with its diverse shopping options but also features an impressive array of dining venues and entertainment hubs.

From upscale bistros to casual eateries, the culinary landscape caters to a broad range of tastes. Gourmet restaurants such as the acclaimed Blue Nami Sushi or the sophisticated Chicago Fire provide distinctive, flavorful experiences.

In the realm of entertainment, the Palladio LUXE Cinema stands out, showcasing the latest blockbusters in an environment of luxury and comfort. Additionally, Palladio hosts various events throughout the year, infusing a dynamic touch into the shopping experience.

With such a multitude of offerings, Palladio at Broadstone truly epitomizes a lifestyle destination, creating a sense of belonging for all visitors.

[violettesiren]

Soft, silvery radiance in whose cool, white light The flowers assume new grace And glow with strange, mysterious beauty After a sun-baked day. The birds are still, but in the pool The gold fish dart and gleam And the frogs in full chorus sing. I sit and dream in the vibrant silence Aided by elusive odours: Lavender, mint, geranium, distilled into the radiant Gleaming beauty of a moonlight night.

Moonlight Night by Erminie Broadstone

[visionofvoid]

Limelight - LS18

Summary: “you’ll get your flowers my dear.”

Warnings: some shameless flirting, a cocky oc 

Pairings: lance stroll x oc

Word Count: 1311

She recalled the first time she ever encountered the Stroll family. 

It was at a joint gala to raise money for children with terminal illnesses and her parents, who were incredibly notable in the car collection and curating community, wished to donate a 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429 in a cherry red colour. It was one of the most expensive items up for grabs and had all its original interior in pristine condition. It gained quite a number of public attention, for a good reason, and all donations were given to the foundation they were sponsoring. It was that night that a young Piper Broadstone had encountered a young Lance Stroll, the boy in his late teens and too cool to speak to girls. 

It wasn’t until years later that the two families attended yet another high profile event, this time with Piper placing a bet and winning a one-on-one date and drive with Lance Stroll himself. She wasn’t too sure on how she would organise this one-on-one date as she found herself drinking too much champagne and dancing with her mother and friends. She honestly could have approached Lance but instead chose to admire from a distance, sneaking a look whenever she could. 

Piper had honestly forgotten about the auction until she received a message request in her private messages on her Instagram.

lance_ stroll: you know, if you really wanted to come for a cruise or a date you could have just messaged me on this

and its free too

Piper admired his cheeky flirting and it seemed that he was also somewhat eager to see what the date had to offer. Of course it was all up to Lance to provide the date and to showcase his driving skills, all Piper had to do was dress the part and just show up. 

itspiperbroadstone: i did it for the kids, mr stroll, don’t let it get to your head

kind of silly that you had to ask for an auction to get me to go on a date with you. you could have messaged me on this 

lance_stroll: bold of you to assume i want a date with you

itspiperbroadstone: why else would you message me at nine at night out of nowhere? 

lance_stroll: touche 

tomorrow at 11am, casual, braided hair may be best (car purposes only)

do you prefer lunch or dinner for the date?

itspiperbroadstone: we love a dominant king

lets do food after the drive tomorrow, you know, make sure it’s all in one day otherwise you might fall in love with me

lance_stroll: im certain you’ll be falling for me 

our parents will love the combined fortune 

itspiperbroadstone: old money nepo babies 

pick me up in the vantage xoxo

i want flowers too

i paid 50k i should at least get some flowers

lance_stroll: you’ll get your flowers my dear 

Casual to someone like Piper was a lot different to someone that didn’t live in an expensive penthouse in Canada. Of course Piper understood that casual was just a term to dress a lot more relaxed but she still needed to dress to impress. She followed the latest trends and embarrassingly fed into fast fashion so she was dressed all in just a pair of jeans with a baggy graphic shirt to pair. It was a nice sunny day so she neglected to bring a jacket as she walked out of her apartment complex, bidding her doorman a farewell and towards the Aston Martin Vantage she could only guess was Lance’s. 

He was leaning against his car, also in a rather casual outfit in a pair of jeans, brown boots and an all grey shirt. In his hands he held a bouquet of flowers, a mix of daisies, babies breath, camellias and a few other variations. He wore a large smile on his face as Piper approached, embracing the girl in a quick and gentle hug, a kiss to the cheek and then pulled away gracefully. 

“I wasn’t too sure what flowers you liked so I got a bit of everything.” Lance confessed, though he had secretly looked through all of her social media to find some sort of hint. It was in her highlights. 

“Thank you, Lance. They’re beautiful.” Piper hated to admit that she was blushing and instead hid her face in the flowers, disguising the action by sniffing the flowers. They smelled incredibly fresh. There was nothing like the smell of fresh flowers. “So, what have you got planned for us today?” Lance opened her door like a gentleman and held her flowers as she strapped herself in before closing the door when she was settled. He ran to the other side, climbing into the passenger seat and started his car, one of his prized possessions. 

“Well, I have a couple of cars for me to drive you around in at the track and then I’ll see how you go-”

“Driving one? You're letting me drive a Formula One car?” Lance chuckled in response, pulling into the lane and heading towards the Montreal track. 

“No, you can’t operate one of those. I’ve got a couple of other cars, much safer cars to take you in and for you to drive.” Lance’s eyes remained on the road for the most part as they drove through town. His car was enough to get some stairs and rightfully so; it was a beautiful car, anyone could appreciate that, and it was the biggest flex of all. Not many people owned a car such as the vantage, not even Piper of her family, though they did own a few Aston Martins. She looked out at the window, admiring the city she was born and raised in. The two settled into a peaceful silence as they continued to the track. It was not awkward, at least from Piper’s perspective. 

The 'Date’ was great PR for not only Piper and Lance but for their families, for the charity in which the money from the bid was going to and for Formula One itself. There were film crews at the ready, organised photographers to capture the two in and out of the cars, cameras and microphones set up inside the cars to capture the reactions of the two. 

Piper was genuinely enjoying herself, even though her braided hair was becoming a mess and she laughed rather obnoxiously in front of Lance. 

Lance was also having a great time. He never really got to show off his skills in older modelled cars let alone with a pretty girl beside him. He liked to glance over as he drifted around a corner, watching her absolutely lose herself into the atmosphere. It was something he found himself wanting to see more, yearning to see more. So, he hated it when their drive had ended and it was Piper’s turn to drive. 

She got into the first car, the pair strapping themselves in. She quickly posed for a camera pointing towards them and then turned on the ignition. 

“You can drive stick?” Lance questioned, Piper only nodding in response before taking off. She had devised a plan, starting off slow to get Lance to think she was nervous. She took it easy around the corners before she found herself approaching the hairpin after turn nine. She started accelerating, going faster and faster by the second before drifting the car almost expertly around the hairpin and turn ten. She couldn’t wait to see the footage once it was released of Lance's reaction. She finished the circuit, stopping at the pit in front of the cameras and getting out, throwing her hands in the air almost as if she was a racer herself. 

“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Lance questioned once the two of them were finally helmet free. 

“My parents are car collectors and curators, you learn a thing or two.”

[decapolicemoment]

random hopes/things i hope happen in decapolice

most if not all are super unrealistic

carlvard

harvard canonically getting therapy at the end of the game

beach episode

found family moments

harvard to have a breakdown

the game coming out in 2024

the mystery girl not getting scrapped

the gang getting different outifts throughout the game

murder on a boat

lighthearted “cases” (escape rooms, something went missing in the office, someone’s hiding a secret, etc)

the clown doesnt get redeemed

english va’s for atleast the anime

meeting the team’s family

the team stays together in the end

some confirmation as to where broadstone is in the U.S. (nvm it’s nyc)

hurt/comfort

[acsisz]

Real DecaP Friend-Ship Fanfic (I'm making it myself cause I'm desperate)

It's a friend-ship fanfic between Harvard & Carl. Hope you enjoy!

Plot: Harvard and Carl have breakfast together.

It was morning when Carl banged on Harvard's door, "Harvard, it's morning! Wake up!"

Harvard and Carl are living together on Harvard's old house, since Carl's family mansion is a long way away from Broadstone.

There was also the choice of renting an apartment (or a hotel room since money isn't a problem for Carl), but Carl was too worried about Harvard living alone.

Since they were also roommates back in Police College, Carl knew exactly how broken Harvard's life skills are.

Harvard is the sort of person who would rather order and eat fast-food every day for a year just because it was faster than getting regular food.

Not to mention cooking, Harvard would rather take a bath than cook and he HATES baths! ("Just like a cat," Carl might add)

So, with that sort of worries, Carl decided to once again become roomies with Harvard.

Really, Carl moving in was more of for Harvard's sake rather than his own.

BUT OF COURSE, it's Harvard we're talking about so it's only fair that Carl is compensated by being tasked with doing ALL of the houseworks in this house, while Harvard does his hobby, which incidentally, is also his work.

Carl walked over to the kitchen to cook pancakes with the batter he was mixing while banging on Harvard's door.

He has to multitask a lot of things.

Carl was never good at cooking, not that he was bad, but more of he never really tried it.

Carl was the youngest son of the prestigious Oxford Family after all, every houseworks was already done by their servants.

But, since meeting Harvard, Carl HAD to be good at this sort of thing.

He remember the time back in college where Harvard prioritize solving a past case for fun for DAYS, to the point of not even taking a single bath or changing his clothes.

In the end, Carl had even BEGGED Harvard to take a bath. And that still didn't work!

But Carl didn't give up and he at least managed to make Harvard changed out of that smelly clothes for him to wash.

Carl was never good at using the washing machine, until he LEARNED TO because of Harvard.

The pancakes are all cooked, now Carl is preparing coffee for Harvard and tea for himself.

But Harvard still hasn't come out of his room yet!

Carl switched the coffee machine on and put the kettle on the stove, and went to bang on Harvard's door again.

"Harvard, WAKE UP!! Pancakes are done!"

But Carl didn't hear any reply.

Carl sighed as he heard the kettle boiling.

He never signed up to be Harvard's mom.

Carl was never good at banging on doors and screaming for other people to wake up.

Carl never had to scream a lot in his life, since most things are already taken care of by his helpers.

He also never banged on doors to wake someone up, that was his helpers' works (Carl refuses to call them his servants).

But his helpers never banged on his door to wake him up, they just knocked politely.

Carl briefly wonders why that never works on Harvard before.

"What is Harvard doing in there...?"

Carl wonders why someone can't get up early according to the rules.

Carl's life has always been filled with rules and restrictions, but he doesn't hate them, rather he's thankful for his family being so caring towards him his entire life...

Carl put the mug filled with coffee and another filled with tea on the table.

He sighed, "It's still so early in the morning, but I'm so tired already..."

He briefly glanced at the clock and gasped! It's already so late?!

Carl immediately went back to Harvard's door and banged on them again.

"Harvard wake up! WAKE UP! We're gonna be late on our 2nd day of work! That CANNOT happen!"

No answer.

"Harvard...come on!"

Carl started turning Harvard's doorknob, hoping it was unlocked somehow.

It's not in his taste to go inside someone else's room uninvited, but this was an emergency!

The doorknob doesn't turn, it's locked. Of course.

Carl started to panic more and began pleading through the door.

"Harvard...please! Wake up! Please..."

Carl's voice almost disappear, his last words tinted with tears about to spill out.

Just then, a miracle! Harvard's door opened from the inside!

"Good morning, Carl," Harvard was smirking as he opened the door, he was already wearing his work suit.

Harvard went to the bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair, and for the gazillion time after they started living together on Harvard's house, Carl sat taken aback by Harvard's expression when he opened his door just before.

Carl realized, also for the gazillion time, that Harvard doesn't look the least bit sleepy.

Harvard had also been wearing his work suit, which means he had time to change out of his pajamas already.

Carl then realize, again, that he had been done in.

And he silently buried his face in his palms, grimacing all the while.

As Harvard sat down to eat his pancake and drink his coffee, Carl felt something boiling inside him.

"Um, Harvard?" Carl asked curtly.

"Yes?" Harvard put a slice of Carl's homemade pancake inside his mouth.

"Don't you have something to say to me?"

Harvard looked at Carl a bit, then turned back to his pancakes.

"Well?" Carl demanded again.

Harvard chewed and swallowed the pancake in his mouth before speaking, "Good morning?"

"Not that! You've said that already!" Carl could feel his fuse getting shorter.

"Then what do you want me to tell you?" Harvard asked simply as he sipped his coffee.

Carl followed suit and sipped his tea, not wanting to let his anger and annoyance towards Harvard to control him.

Carl sighed and said, "How about sorry?"

"Apologies accepted," Harvard said, and Carl internally cursed Harvard even though he knows it's not proper to curse to someone, internally or externally.

"Not to you, I-" Carl sighed again, "Forget it..."

"Forget what?"

"Please- Harvard, just, shut up for a moment," Carl also doesn't like to use the words 'shut up' to someone else, it's too hurtful he said. He prefers the words 'please be quiet', but that never works on Harvard.

Harvard smirked and sipped his coffee again.

Throughout the duration of having breakfast with Harvard, Carl thought about how many times he's been bullied by Harvard like this, back at the college and even now.

For a brief moment Carl thought about Harvard getting married someday.

He wonders, if whoever that person who decided to marry Harvard is in their right mind, or if they were tricked by Harvard, or even worse, bullied into signing the marriage contract.

Carl feels bad for whoever that person is.

He resolve himself to tell them about his past experience with his friend, so they would know what they're getting themself into.

He would even do a presentation on it on their wedding day, just to make sure for the last time that they DO know what they're getting into in marrying Harvard.

Carl then thinks about their child- and he stops.

'Harvard CAN'T have children,' Carl thinks to himself, terrified.

"Carl, what are you thinking about?" Harvard, with his plate clean and mug empty, called out to him.

"Uh, nothing."

"Then let's go, we're already late."

Carl glanced at the clock, screamed internally, and laments to Harvard, "Oh no, it's already so late! We're not gonna make it, and it's only our 2ND DAY!"

Harvard just got up and took the car key, "Nothing is impossible for Harvard Marks."

"Oh no....." Carl, realizing what's about to happen, lamented again.

"Then mom, I'm going now," Harvard said to a picture of a woman resembling him by the front entrance.

Carl looked sadly at Harvard, and asked, "Hey, Harvard? Isn't it painful to keep staying in this house? I mean, umm..."

It was a question Carl had always wanted to ask Harvard, why didn't he just moved away.

After all, this house must bear such a painful memory to Harvard.

A painful and bloody memory.

But Carl have common sense and basic human decency not to ask his friend something so sensitive.

At least, that's what goes on every other day, all the panic and anger today must have burned his brain out.

But, now that he asked, he wants to properly hear Harvard's answer.

"...So I wouldn't forget."

That's all that Harvard said as he went out of the entrance.

'Forget what? The happy times with your mother? Or...the anger and madness that comes with losing her?' Carl thought briefly as he went after Harvard.

"Alright, let's get a move on," Harvard fastened his seatbelt and started the car.

"Okay Harvard, but remember, be careful and don't go out of the speed range. Please."

"What's that, Carl? You wanna be late on your 2nd day at work?"

"No! I'm just saying-"

Harvard cuts Carl's words, "Sometimes in life, Carl."

Carl turns to Harvard.

"There is only one or the other," Harvard said as he stepped on the gas, HARD.

"No no no no! I'm sure there'a way we can have both! Let's just SLOW DOWN as we think about it!" Carl yelled frantically on the passenger seat beside his friend and partner.

"Don't worry, Carl! As long as we go fast enough, the cops can't catch us!" Harvard laughed. With madness, Carl might add out of disbelief.

"We are the cops! Harvard, slow down! PLEASE! AAAA-"

Carl could feel himself screaming, but he couldn't quite hear it over Harvard's loud laugh.

The sort of laugh only someone between life and death, right or ruin could make.

A crazed laugh, one that would haunt Carl's memory always.

[oceancentury]

Broadstone railway station, Constitution Hill, Dublin, built 1840. Architect: John Skipton Mulvany. Picture 1939.

[salty-dracon]

once upon a time, there was a happy couple (decapolice microfiction)

an: this game won't be out for a WHILE but that has never stopped me from writing little microfiction passages based on the premise. and despite the title, this is a purely platonic drabble. 1.3k

The hacker understood, in the times that his eyes passed away from the screen, what the difference was between logic and emotions. Yes, the room he was in was about five meters by five meters, plus an extra three for the ceiling. That was the logic part. But sometimes the room felt smaller or larger, despite its dimensions never actually changing. On days when it was suffocating, he would sit by the vent for oxygen, trying to stifle his breathing while steadying his heartbeat. And sometimes, the room felt wide open and comfortable, and he would lie back on his bed thinking about how cushy the job was.

He remembered the terms of the contract. He couldn't forget the old man's voice if he tried, though even the memories of what he said began to fuzz and fade with how much time he'd spent inside.

That old man spoke with a calmness that hardly fit the demands he made. "We'll pick you up outside your apartment at midnight. Make sure you carry your necessary belongings with you. Leave your cell phone, personal computer, and anything that might connect to the Internet or reveal your location at home. However, we will need your hacking tools, so you need to bring a hard drive with any programs you might need. Of course, you could bring a program that alerts the police to your location- but this is an assignment that relies on trust. You know what that means, don't you?"

The hacker nodded. "Of course I do. As stated, I'll get the job done as long as you don't stiff me."

"To maintain absolute secrecy, we will be knocking you unconscious with sleeping gas en route. You will wake up in a room we have provided, with enough food and water stores for the entire contract period. You'll also have a bathroom, a bed, a closed-circuit two-way communication system to contact me, and a delivery system which I will handle personally. And of course, you will have a state-of-the-art personal computer which we will provide, with all of the connection protocols required for the assignment. Think of it as an apartment which you can't leave, entirely closed off from the world, whose location is unknown even to you, for which I am your only contact."

Honestly, the accommodation sounded miserable, and it wasn't like he'd ever grab a drink with the old man for fun, but he was willing to endure a few months of misery for the pay.

"Your assignment, then," said the man, "is to hack the program known as DECASIM."

It had been three weeks since then. The assignment seemed simple enough- apply an algorithmic model encryption program to every PC and NPC within DECASIM's simulated version of Broadstone City, effectively changing their appearances from the root. They couldn't change between runs, hence why it had to be algorithmic. Specifically, it had to apply a certain set of parameters to a few specific people.

"The rest is up to you."

The hacker smiled when he heard that. He already had an idea of how he wanted to encrypt the models. As long as it worked, no one would complain about his peculiar taste.

A message came from the old man a few hours ago. "The papers have published that DECASIM was compromised. Good work. Take a break for now, won't you? If DECASIM is repaired, we'll need you to hack into it again."

He had been resting on his bed for an hour, listening for any sound he could. He could hear the humming of the computer's fan, and see the blinking of the lights on his hard drive. Occasionally, he'd hear people walk past.

The clip-clop, clip-clop of strong leather boots and high heels. The casually formal manner of speaking. And the words they spoke, which, as time went on, fit together within his mind like little puzzle pieces. Several times a "break room" had been mentioned, and there were mentions of different floors within the building and different departments. From this, he'd deduced he was in an office building of some kind- though as to what kind, the people around seemed to be intentionally vague about it. There were clients and suppliers that gave the employees headaches, but as to what they offered, he could only guess at. At least in some sense, he never felt like he'd been abandoned to the middle of nowhere.

His employer would never approve of his eavesdropping. It could compromise his location, and he'd have to forfeit the money he was owed at the end of the commission period. Still, as a hacker, he didn't come this far by being inflexible and incurious.

It surprised him when the next words he heard were about his own work.

The quiet clip-clop of rubber-soled loafers, and a louder clip-clop. They sounded like boots, but heavier and a little more unsteady. And the voice from the wearer sounded different from the usual fare.

“One hell of a resume, messing with DECASIM like that. What do you think their goal is? Oh, and who do you think's behind it?” It was a woman's voice- a little croaky, with a hint of mischief. She sounded like she was smiling.

“I heard my daughter's high school email servers were hacked last week by a bunch of white-hats playing pranks.” A middle-aged man spoke now, once again from beyond the wall. "But this isn't an email server, it's a resource used by the police to solve crimes, particularly cold cases. Don't you think that's more concerning?"

"I'm curious to see what'll happen. I think it'll be good for the rest of us."

"You're hardly a criminal." He gave a short, tired sigh. “I can’t say I’m not happy, though. The person who invented that thing… copying our very selves into a simulation... they’re pure evil.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” The woman spoke up again. Her teasing tone was replaced with a serious one, like a storyteller's. “Once upon a time, there was a happy couple who loved this city. But a tragedy took one of them away. The living spouse missed walking the streets with their late lover, and wanted to recreate that feeling down to the last atom. And so they created a lifelike simulation that could copy even real people. But then their creation got bought out by a corrupt police force, looking for ways to train their soldiers.”

“Is that a fact about its history?”

“Nope, just speculation.” The woman laughed, her jovial tone returning. “But I still don't trust DECASIM. So long as our every movement is recorded in that thing… they’ll use it to justify every crime with false evidence they can twist into being 'circumstantial proof', maybe even find ways to induce us into committing crimes while they rake in the spoils. Follow the money, and you can solve any mystery.”

“You’re no criminal, right, Doc?” the man asked.

“Of course not. I’m just a person worried about my human rights.” The woman laughed, her heavy boots clunking in the distance. “Hurry up, we're gonna miss the train.”

"It's not going to arrive for another ten minutes... "

Their voices and footsteps faded in the distance. He'd learned quite a bit about them from that exchange. Still, they were only fragments of facts- fragments that hardly fit in neatly with his understanding of the whole.

"An anonymous hacking group, huh?" The hacker sighed. "If only it were that romantic. Still," he said, sitting up and stretching his arms, "not bad for a claim to fame."

[mimikyu-oli]

Pokémons

Main region:

Behilock

Cordisect

Regional Ariados + Ogrough

Venoxious

Ferrogonal

Malifuse

Senturel

Rovane

Mournella

Regional Megnemite and Magneton + Magnesphere

Peaculiar

Coshantis and Bludgeantis

Broadstone

Nymphling + Damselfiend + Dragonfiend

Bonus:

[streetsofdublin]

GREAT WESTERN SQUARE IS A NICE AREA AS IS THE SMALL PARK

The Great Western Square area is located just south of St. Peter’s Church and school on the North Circular Road. It is bounded by Great Western Avenue to the north, Broadstone Bus depot to the south, the railway line to the west and Avondale Road to the e

PHIBSBOROUGH 4 JANUARY 2025 It is a while since I last visited this area. The Great Western Square area is located just south of St. Peter’s Church and school on the North Circular Road. It is bounded by Great Western Avenue to the north, Broadstone Bus depot to the south, the railway line to the west and Avondale Road to the east. The area includes Great Western Square and Great Western…

[vexianized]

You know what time it is... Carlvard headcanon time!!

I had to do Carlvard next, they're taking over my brain. Living rent free in my mind (ignore the fact it took long to post this I forgor).

They met at college because they were in the same class. Carl was intrigued by Harvard in a sense. One day he saw him in the hallway and started staring unknowingly. Harvard noticed this and called him out. Carl got incredibly flustered, especially with Harvard's intimidating stare. However, as soon as Harvard saw him, he realized Carl wasn't a threat.

They eventually became study mates, going to cafes together and visiting each other's dorms.

They rented an apartment together after college cause Broadstone be expensive as hell (just like NYC irl frfr).

Carl developed feelings first while Harvard developed them later.

Carl calls Harvard "Harvey" as a nickname (only Carl is allowed to call her that, if anyone else does, she will glare at you).

Harvard will call Carl pet names in Spanish and Italian like "bonito" and "bello."

The matching pendants are actually friendship charms Carl bought for them in college! As their relationship develops, it becomes more like wedding rings lmao.

Carl worries about Harvard a lot and is afraid that she'll let her truama consume her.

Harvard also worries about Carl and his lack of self-confidence, he's just bad at expressing it openly.

Surprisingly Harvard likes being the little spoon while cuddling.

Harvard's love language is physical affection (giving) and acts of service (both giving and receiving). Carl's is also physical affection (giving) and words of affirmation (receiving).

Harvard is extremely touch starved while Carl is the most cuddly person ever.

Sometimes Carl will do Harvard's makeup if Harvard feels too tired to do it. He also fixes her hair sometimes.

Harvard's first relationship was with Carl while Carl has dated other people in the past.

When grocery shopping, sometimes Harvard would wordlessly put a six pack of beer into the shopping cart and Carl would have to pay with his ID (for context, the drinking age in America is 21, so Carl can legally drink, but not Harvard lol).

Speaking of alcohol, Harvard would get very touchy when drunk and be a lot more emotionally vulnerable. Carl tries not to get too drunk that often because when he does he gets wired asf and does stupid shit.

Carl would sometimes make Harvard breakfast in bed to practice his culinary skills (when they actually have the time off to sleep in late.)

Carl often comforts Harvard after nightmares. Harvard tried to play it off at first, but Carl wasn't having it cause empath brain sensed something was wrong.

Harvard likes when Carl scratches behind his ear and pets his hair (like a cat!)

They compliment each other's flaws. Harvard reminds Carl to have more confidence while Carl reminds Harvard that it's ok to be vulnerable about your feelings.

They didn't really have a confession per say. Their relationship just kinda slow burned into romantic one.

They didn't really confirm they were dating until after their first kiss.

Carl: "Does this mean we're dating now?"

Harvard: "Carl, I think we've been dating."

Due to Carl's jealousy issues, he would sometimes get a little possessive— NOT TO A TOXIC DEGREE THOUGH!!! If he senses someone trying to flirt with Harvard he'd come by quickly and interrupt join the conversation or subtly grab Harvard by the waist and pull him closer while side-eyeing the other person. Harvard never says anything about it though because he kinda likes it.

Harvard would sometimes jokingly call Carl his "sugar daddy" cause he's rich. Carl hates when he does this (I only now just had this headcanon cause of fanfiction. Thanks fanfiction!!👍)

That's it's for now! Again, sorry this took a while to post, I can't remember shit for the life of me lol. If I remember I might do Zhang or Manimani headcanons next.

[mylordshesacactus]

19 for your dnd characters?

Deliberately interpreting vague prompt as: All of them!

How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this?

Benevolence (Tiefling Bard)

If Benny's dehydrated, it's not her fault. She doesn't drink--personal preference--and you can't always count on a small-town tavern letting you get away with ordering lemonade.

Rinda Broadstone (Dwarven Paladin of Bahamut)

BREAKFAST IS THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY AND YOU'LL BE NO GOOD TO OTHERS IF YOU DON'T DRINK ENOUGH WATER AND GET ENOUGH SLEEP AND EAT YOUR VEGETABLES.

Hoo. Sorry, lad, blacked out for a second there--

She is properly hydrated and so is everyone else in her party. That is a threat.

Atri (Aarakocra Ranger-Cleric of the Raven Queen)

She'd love to get a drink but she's been staking out this tomb for eighteen hours and doesn't want to risk losing the necromancer because she had to waddle behind a tree. Perils of working alone.

Concorde (Tiefling Warlock - Bronze Dragon/reskinned Fathomless)

Don't tell her that alcohol dehydrates you, she'll be traumatized.

In all seriousness though: Kid's career navy--she knows what water rationing does to the body and she's not going to court that through negligence. She gets enough, babygirl, don't worry about her. It's sweet that you care, though. Can she buy you a drink? Goes against her honor to let a pretty girl go thirsty--

Sedge Burdock (Halfling Druid-Fighter)

Oh, you gotta get this girl some Gatorade before she dies. Maybe, like, a xanax or twelve while you're at it. Fucking disaster is what she is.

Lorne Cooper (Dragonborn Barbarian)

She's a grad student. So on the one hand she hasn't been outside in three weeks and hasn't exactly been exercising. On the other, she's a botonist, so she's spending a lot of time in hothouses. On the third hand that does mean she's perfectly able to keep a waterskin on her at all times and has plenty of opportunity to drink as needed.

On the fourth hand, the waterskin is definitely full of coffee and she definitely hyperfocuses for eight hours at a time and then suddenly gets hit with seventeen status effects as soon as she blinks.

Haliastur "Kite" Proteles (Gnoll Cavalier)

Not as well-hydrated as she oughta be, sure. But gettin' by just fine. Can't get too greedy or you'll be hurting before you get to the next stopover, but you're no good to anyone sick. Still. She's a stockhand--spends a lot of time in the sun on wide dusty plains. Could probably use more water than she gets.

...hey, want some arm? Still marrow in the fingerbones probably, pretty fresh bandit arm, just a few days old--

[cserea]

My poem won a Pushcart Prize!

Over the moon excited to find out that my poem, “Making Sausage in the Time of Revolution,” published last year by Consequence, has won a Pushcart Prize! Grateful to Kate Hollander, Matthew Krajniak, and all the editors at Consequence Forum for nominating my poem and to the Pushcart editors for this honor. The poem is included in my latest collection, “In Those Years, No One Slept,” published earlier this year by Broadstone Books.

[colibritribe]

Alexander Hamilton grave, Broadstone Bar

[decapolicemoment]

College Days: 1

(or Carl having beef with a minor)

He was finally here; Broadstone Police College. He’s worked his ass off to get here, working hard to earn enough money to fly here from Britain, not wanting to rely on his parent's business. Sure, their money is helpful, but being independent is what he craves the most, so he took as much as he could and left the country, moving into the dormitories.

He was told a week ago that he would have a roommate, and although it would be helpful in some circumstances, he spent the whole week praying that they would be nice and help clean up around the dorm. They were supposed to come today, so it was a matter of time before he would meet them.

He packed his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder before leaving the orientation room. Most people were still there, chatting with their professors or classmates. As much as he wanted to make friends here, he wanted to be there for when his roommate arrived, whenever that was. 

He walked through the hallway, trying to find the exit when he walked past someone who caught his eye. He was blonde and a little bit shorter than Carl was, an inch or so. He was fixated on the map hanging on the wall, staring at it as if he was trying to figure it out.

“Hey, you need help?” He put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to slightly flinch, turning to face him. His wide blue eyes staring at whoever snapped him out of his trance. He relaxed, glancing back at the map.

“Whoever made this sucks with directions. I’ve been walking around trying to find the dorms.” He pointed a finger at the paper on the wall. “You have any clue where it is?”

Was he new? Most people have already settled into their rooms, but then again, the deadline hasn’t passed, so maybe he was just late. “Yeah, what building are you in?”

“Eh?”

“You got a key right? It should have your building number and room on it.”

“….I was supposed to get a key?”

Carl smirked, covering his mouth to hide the giggle that came from it. His eye twitched, not understanding the humor in his situation. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing nothing, I’m just surprised you didn’t know that.” He waved his hands in front of him, a slight smile still on his face. The blonde grew more annoyed, rolling his eyes at his comment.

“Not everyone got to come here early, you know? Some people never got a tour of the place.”

“I didn’t tour here either.”

“Okay? I didn’t ask if you did. You still got here before me so you’ve already walked around campus.”

He sighed, wishing he hadn’t offered to help him out. “Listen, I have somewhere to be, so let’s just go our separate ways, okay?”

“What, you have a girlfriend or something?”

“What? No.” How he managed to come to that conclusion was beyond him. The blonde looked him up and down, a judging look on his face.

“Yeah, you don’t seem like you would have one,” he said, shaking his head.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

He turned away from Carl, a grin on his face as he strutted down the hall. He waved as Carl yelled to him again. As he became farther away, it hit him.

He never gave him directions. 

Good. Serves him right for being an annoying little twat. He continued the other way, opening the exit door. The light breeze hit him as he jogged to the dorm building. He didn’t live too high up, so there was no point in him taking the stairs.

Opening the door to his dorm, he looked to see if anyone had arrived before he did, realizing that it was completely empty. He started to worry for whoever they were, hoping that they were coming soon and weren’t injured or lost. If he knew who they were, he would have tried to find them.

He thought back to the guy he met in the hallway, praying for whoever might have to dorm with him. Maybe he was lucky enough to get a single room, though he doubts it since they only give those out if there aren’t a lot of people or if you have a disability.

He plopped down on the couch, scrolling on his phone to pass the time. Classes didn’t start until Monday, and it would probably be mostly icebreakers that day. There wasn’t much to do except wait for his dorm mate to arrive 

Apparently he wouldn’t have to wait that long, as someone knocked on the door. He sat up, hearing someone try to open the door on their own, keys rattling. Another knock, followed by, “Open the door please.”

He knew that voice, but he couldn’t quite place from where. Standing up, he went to open the door, only for it to open on its own, hitting him in the face. 

He clutched his nose and groaned, hearing his new roommate start to apologize, only to stop. He faced them, neither of them talking as they made eye contact.

“YOU!” “OH COME ON!”

He closed the door behind him, glaring at him. He went past him towards the bedrooms, Carl following to make sure he didn’t go in his. Surprisingly, he ignored the open room and went straight to the closed one, sliding his suitcase on the floor and closing the door again.

“I really don’t want to share a dorm with you, but I don’t feel like changing, so how about we call a truce.” He stuck a hand out to him, half lidded eyes staring at him.

“A truce? Are you serious?”

“God, just be the bigger person and shake my hand already.” They shook hands, both looking as if they didn’t want to. 

“Great! Name’s Harvard Marks.”

“No ‘nice to meet you’ or ‘Sorry for hitting you with the door’?”

“I’m not a liar. Besides, it’s your fault for standing behind the door.”

“You’re the one who asked me to open it!”

“If I knew it was you, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“What happened to your truce?”

“I can still not like you, I know you don’t like me either.” He was right, but he was less vocal about it, rather than Harvard who makes a comment about him in every sentence.

“You never asked my name.”

“Isn’t it Carl? It was on the paper the office gave me.” He nodded. 

“Cool, lemme see your schedule real quick.” He complied, not realizing what he asked.

“Perfect, we share some classes.” That was not perfect, he didn’t want to have to deal with him both in and out of the dorm. He glanced at both their schedules, them sharing most of his classes.

“Great…,” he mumbled, already regretting everything. He wondered if it was too late for him to get a new roommate. 

Over the span of a week, Carl realized a few things about his roommate.

One, that he was actually quite smart and skilled. Though, he needed to be to back up his cockiness.

Two, that he wasn’t such a pain in the ass to other people, it seemed to be just him. 

Three, he was tidy, and made sure to clean up after himself. 

And four..

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE 16?!”

“I mean that I’m currently 16 years old, what do you think?” He looked annoyed and amused at his question.

“How old did you think I was?”

“I thought you were just a short 18 year old..”

“We’re the same height??”

“Barely, but that’s not the point.” Harvard grinned at his exasperation, as he tried to wrap his head around his roommate being a minor.

“You should feel bad for harboring such hate for a minor,” he clasped his hands together, letting out a small whine. “In fact, you should be ashamed and buy me coffee as an apology.”

“Hell no. It just means I can’t fully blame you for being immature.” He ruffled his hair, getting a yelp out of him. He slapped his hands away before huffing. 

“Says the one who had beef with a teenager.”

“Well I didn’t know you were a teenager.”

“You say that as if you wouldn’t have beef if you knew I was one.”

“Can you drop it? I have class in a few minutes.”

“Only if you buy me coffee later.”

“Sure, just go away.” He saluted, before going back to his room. Carl sighed, brewing himself a pot of coffee.

This year was gonna be long.