#but i believe i've made a breakthrough

[amoremagnificentbastard]

I think we're back in business, boys (g/n)

[loveireandblog]

Nah but stripping it all to zero to its decimal is where the part that nothing fucking matters except it'd be the right path to honour myself fuck the rest (and get off my blogging cos I'm depleted or stay whatever cos at this rate) I'm just not Following the right thing if I did that's not a pin to the bubble well I already kind of already know that's the whole issue (!) , knowing doesn't imbue readiness . I have been under a kind of zombie (self harm) spell . Which happens every. Fucking. Time. But to break that just for my own self peeling it back to the Answer, a glowingly correct path, is actually getting acute. hypothetically someone never wouldnt be (lol) doing the wrong thing it was always right . Oh and I knew that too it just felt , processed in the vein of bad advice lol

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞.❞

What is your future spouse’s aesthetic?

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Pac Summary!

🍊Your future spouse's aesthetic.

🍊How they feel about it in the future or in the present moment.

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

As I was shuffling, nothing came out. So I went with the assumption; perhaps they are lost with who they are. They are trying different aesthetics and seeing what makes them happy. I believe having a title like an aesthetic can bring us down if we don’t know what makes us happy, and that is the same with your fs. They are struggling to see what fits their standards of aesthetics.

Reversed nine of wands.

The reversed nine of wands confirms my thoughts. Right now, they are struggling with everything. They remind me of the tower tarot card. This is seen as something negative, but I see it as a breakthrough in life. Because if there isn't a negative situation, then you can never become uncomfortable or grow from the experience. You need those negative emotions for growth even if it’s sabotaging yourself. You become self aware throughout and teach yourself to not be your own enemy. I’m still feeling hopeless energy with your fs. So right now, the aesthetic is baggy clothes. They are struggling to become comfortable with their skin and what they like. They have tried fancy and luxurious suits. They have tried the swag or baddie aesthetic. They have tried sexy dresses, etc. They keep going for materialistic outfits, and intuition says you will meet them in a month or two and help guide them out of that hell hole. So when you do meet, I see them going for a flowy or relaxing aesthetic. It reminds me of a bit of boho and a soft aesthetic. And those who are into men, I see them actually painting their nails. Now, I've seen people associate nail polish on men with the LGBTQ+ community, alternative/emo/punk, etc., but no. Nail polish is about expressing yourself like makeup; the same goes here. 

How does their aesthetic make them feel in the future?

I kept shuffling the cards, but wasn’t able to get anything. Then I realized they wouldn’t feel much about it. I don't see them caring about how other people perceive them because of you. You were able to guide and heal them in a positive manner that made them realize they don't have to try so hard to impress others and that impressing themselves is more important. And you also taught them that materialistic aspects won't last in the long run; appreciating the small things you have in life is important. Beautiful life lessons; thank you for sharing those with them and elevating them into someone they love. So there isn’t a feeling here, but more of a thank you note from them to you.

‘’Thank you for showing me something that I thought was lost. Thank you for being there for me when I struggled and put money, charm, and looks on a pedestal. It was because of you that I realized that those weren’t important. What matters is the inside of us, our soul, and how we actually do things for other people. Without you, I wouldn't be able to understand who I was—I wouldn't be self-aware of the flaws I had, nor would I understand the struggles I put you in when I was so self-absorbed in the fashion world. Forgetting how toxic the industry has been. So thank you for being by my side and allowing my wings to flutter open as I escaped hell and finally met you in heaven. In our heaven.’’

Masterlist.

Pile II

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

I was seeing a dark, winter night. The wind is flowing around the dead but beautiful trees. Beautiful white snow is raining down from the clouds, and there is a haunted house. Well, that is how the rumors spread, but in that house was a single father with his sweet daughter, trying hard to survive in the winter. Though it was hard to survive time to time with rumors being spread, people coming to throw hate, and such, the only thing that helped them cope was the love they had together. Before, I check what the card is. Intuitively though, they give me the aesthetic of gloomy winter. That softness that comes from the winter days, the excitement that comes out when it’s winter break, and when you want to go to the fireplace and have a nice cup of hot chocolate while being sneaky and adding marshmallows for yourself. The darker days of the winter as the moon glistens over a river. Or when the days become cold you must isolated from your friends. This is what your future spouse’s aesthetic. It’s complex but that’s the beauty of it. They allow people to spread false judgments while they express what they love, their aesthetic. They portray softness while appearing rough, a contradiction that works beautifully like dead trees allowing the snow to pile on top of it. Eventually the tree grows back and blossoms once more. That’s the irony of your fs.

Reversed four of wands.

A smile appeared on my face because the energy matched. Even though it is reversed, it’s a siren (bird form) on an apple tree, as weapons, i believe arrows, are pointing at her and targeting her. Do you see the resemblance? The weapons are the rumors. The siren are the people in the house, or in this case, your fs’s house. And the apples are the love shared with the family. The tree is what your fs holding their family together. Their family has accepted what your fs change in their traditions/culture which has made them happy. Thus causing them being comfortable with themselves and wearing the aesthetic they like despite it being frowned upon. I am getting a conservative family with them, but the family was able to heal because your fs took the stand and changed their views. I heard the family had no idea of the pressure given to their children before everything went down.

How does their aesthetic make them feel in the future?

The first word that popped up in my head was refreshing. The biggest weight came off their shoulders; it will be so rewarding. Everything they wanted has already come their way, and to top it off, you will be their last reward. Their wishes are coming and you are the last wish. They are manifesting for someone like you; you are their dream person, and the thought of being with someone like you makes them go nuts. Think of the craziest TV show character you know and amplify it by 3-5 times. That’s the excitement I feel with them, but with a healthy mindset. It’s just something they have been dreaming about for so long, since their childhood or teenage years. 

Reversed seven of wands.

Yeah, so with the reversed seven of wands, this is about a turning point that will lead to a positive situation occurring in someone’s life. And you are their positive aspect. If they didn’t stand up for what they believed in and speak with such vulnerability and power, then you guys wouldn’t be meeting in three to four months. Everything would’ve been delayed. And as I channeled this, I kept hearing soulmates. I know all (other than the 3-4% who believes it) of you don’t believe it, but that’s what I am hearing. So if it’s not soulmates for you, then it’s a relationship that is meant to be.

Masterlist.

Pile III

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

Two of wands.

Your future spouse’s aesthetic is daring. They like to try new things, always getting out of their comfort zone. Sometimes, they enjoy pissing other people off because they live in a traditional area. Wearing something that is provocative or very showy bothers the people around them, but for them, it’s similar to adrenaline. I see someone riding on a skateboard wearing ripped jeans, showing their bruised knee. A grin is on their face as they are wearing a crop top, accentuating their curves and body. People look at them with disgust, but all they can see is their reactions. People record them to make fun of them and yet, they do not care. This is your future spouse’s energy. They genuinely don't care what other people think of them unless it comes to you.

Their fashion is fun and bold. It makes you think about them as they stay on your mind. In terms of aesthetic names, I get punk and emo vibes and lots of tattoos or piercings. Someone has vampire teeth, or they add them in. For some, your fs loves wearing spiky boots or making their ponytail in a spiky motion. Others, think of alternatives mixed with cyberpunk. Very wild and bright colors too. They know what they want when it comes to life and their fashion taste, and they are very straightforward about what they dislike too. So when there is a communication issue, they will be upfront about it and you both can resolve it quickly. 

How does their aesthetic make them feel?

Ten of pentacles and queen of wands.

Honestly, they feel blessed that they are wearing what they love. When you live in a traditional area, it’s hard to wear the outfits or do the things you enjoy, but they were able to push past their fears and become confident. Their outlook on life changed drastically, and they became comfortable with their real selves. They also feel thankful for how you will accept their fashion. They felt hesitant around you because they assumed you wouldn’t like their fashion style.

Masterlist.

Pile IV

Your future spouse's aesthetic. 

When I was shuffling your cards, a card flipped by itself, and then it became lost. At first, your future spouse kept changing their aesthetics constantly. They didn't know what looked best with their facial structures. They have a mother who is into cosmetics, so they know how to work well with fashion, but the idea of being perfect has affected their mindset. ‘’Perfectionism is my downfall; I know that, but I am working on it.’’

Reversed strength and reversed the high priestess.

Their mother has always been strict with them. Always putting their imperfections on their child because they couldn't handle their insecurities. So your fs has absorbed what they said onto them, thus causing them to become a perfectionist. The high priestess reversed is focused on trust issues and a lack of personal harmony. Their mother pressure has caused a strain in their relationship, and the amount of projection has made your fs doubt their fashion style. That is why the card disappeared and became lost. That is their energy right now. Their aesthetic is kind of like piratecore mixed with richness. It’s very attractive and will make you feel flush. I see them wearing a corset tank top with a white blouse top, showing their breasts slightly, or they will show their chest and torso in a laid-back way. They will have black pants that are tight to accentuate their body and to match their eyes. They will wear a black steampunk or some type of long jacket with buttons resembling a pirate’s captain. It’s going to fit very nicely. They will leave their hair loose to create that effect. And I am also seeing that sometimes they will switch it and wear a suit while still allowing their chest to show. I'm getting a strong nonbinary aesthetic too. They don't focus on what is feminine or masculine; whatever appeals to them and makes them look attractive in their eyes is what matters. 

How does their aesthetic make them?

Reversed six of wands and the empress.

There is already a huge cliff between their mother, and their fashion focused on piratecore and rich/luxury has drifted them a bit. Their mother isn’t noticing their hard work to find what they like; they are supposed to be into only classy outfits. Everything must be hidden and modest, and they break that. So that has pissed off their mother. The six of wands reversed is about a temporary setback and a lack of recognition for achievements. In the future though, I don't see much of a difference between them so meeting their mother isn’t a likely occurrence. On the bright side, they love their aesthetic, which makes them love themselves more. They are able to rebel against their mother and find comfort in this. The amount of changing things up to fit their mother’s standards killed a part of them, and to be able to gain it back and become resilient is something they are thankful for. They have a strong connection with themselves, and it makes them want to learn how to make their own clothes or design them. But no, this is a hobby and not their major or what they want to have as a career in the future. I also hear that they find themselves to be beautiful now, and a huge weight is off their shoulder. In a way, they are their own mother now (accepting their feminine side and taking care of their inner child), and when you meet, they will prorate a nurturing and mother-like nature. Tranquility is what appeared in my mind; you will feel peaceful around them. A true gemstone amongst the fake ones. 

Masterlist.

[adolin]

I'm always thinking about how G— was an engineer. A damn good one: the sole engineer of the cryo project, good enough that of all the ten billion, the FTL project chose him to inspect their work, back when the project was still a pipe dream. He was a man from an immigrant family in an underprivileged area who became arguably the world's best engineer, which is impressive in its own right, but it gets me thinking... Pre-Resurrection, John says they can't grow food on Mars (and for all John's unreliability, that's pretty believable, given that the high perchlorate concentration in Martian soil is one of the big obstacles to carrying out a sustained Mars mission), and as silly as this might sound, the engineer and scientist divide is real, and of all the nerds that John resurrected, I can't imagine it was the artist or the contract lawyer or the medical and chemistry experts that made the Mars installation viable. Gideon made a House out of it, and one that accepts recruits from across the Dominican system! "Saint of Duty" is said to fit him, evident in his loyalty and commitment to the Cohort and fighting the Resurrection Beasts, but I have to wonder, how much of that was his commitment to making shit work? I can't shake the image of a couple million people awaking to a ruined world, and someone had to get the other Houses settled, figure out spacecraft and space habitats using what little supplies they have left, and what better candidate for that than the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice?

ANON I love this so much. You're SO right, and you put into words something about G1deon and John's shared background that I've tried to articulate for a while. In the very first chapter, John says, "It wasn’t that they didn’t have the money for a bigger team; we were simply the only ones capable of what they were asking."

This was an incredibly elite team. They were a brilliant bunch of hyperspecialised nerds. And, like, among John's squad, A- and M- and everyone else started out as colleagues — very smart people he probably met in academic circles, where being smart was kind of a prerequisite. It was their research that brought them together to begin with.

G1deon, though! He was John's friend growing up. John knew his grandparents. They spotted each other spare changes for snacks!! Then John went on to Dilworth, then to university and then overseas, and G1deon had his own (probably different) academic path, and maybe they only stayed vaguely in touch, but when it was time to look for an engineer that could help them build spaceships constructed to provide life support to the whole of humanity for centuries — and G1deon was the guy for that.

The fact that two boys from similar underprivileged backgrounds individually made huge breakthroughs in their chosen fields, and got to work together on a project that was meant to save the world... I bet at the time it felt like a miraculous coincidence. I think they thought, if they'd made it that far, that they could do anything.

(yet another layer to the tragedy of what happened etc etc. G1deon torn between John and P—. John stopping G1deon's heart)

Thank you so much for all your thoughts about the Mars space installation, also — I wonder how long there was between Mars becoming the Second House (founded by G1deon! he and Pyrrha did the bulk of the work!) and the institution of the Third House, which doesn't have a named founder and might very well have been a shared project built on the blueprint of what G1deon set up. "the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice" — my god I love this so much. It's G1deon emo hours today

[azurbright]

So this is my Grumbo, creative writing assignment for my course. My teacher liked it, and I got many compliments from my peers. It's based on another Grumbo short story I made for this class. Generally, though, you should be able to gather what's going on.

I only had 200-300 words per entry, with a 5 entry maximum, so that's why they're so short. For everyone who said they wanted to see it.

@oso-bigback64 @raylaismad @not-a-boot @crispycheeto364 @a-sociopath-do-your-research @endaisgayandtrans @auseryoumayknow @ghost-er-toast-er

Blog entry number 1: Day one

Many months ago I began my search for the key to immortality. Although I have yet to find it, I am sure that I am going to get there soon. Nobody has done what I have been able to do, technological advances have not come as far as this yet. Today, a boy fell from the sky, he claims his name is Grian, he has yet to indulge me in where he has come from but I will inform once I become aware. As of now I have brought him back to my lab and we’ve begun testing. He doesn’t seem to feel any pain at all once so ever. He claims not to be immortal but something does seem off. Only time will tell. We got along easy, I don’t mind having the company around, he's a bit of a pessimist but I can make it work. Later today I plan on taking him out to town, he says he hasn’t had a meal in days which simply just can’t be good for him. Now, however, I am in my office whilst he naps on my couch, writing this entry here. The testing went well, his blood and hair samples are currently in the lab, I am awaiting results. What I do know now though is he seems to be sprouting these sort of purple feathers along his back. When I asked him about them he didn't know. Will do more research on those.

Blog entry number 2: Day fourteen

Today, I have a lot to say. I have made a technological breakthrough. The feathers were the answer, the stem of these feathers that come from him hold a sort of liquid, the chemical compound is something that I have never seen before. It's simply extraordinary. Grian has opened up to me more, he's talked about the sort of tortures the Watchers put him through. When I asked him what a Watchet was he also wasn’t quite sure. They claim to be gods, but he believes that they are something so much worse. I have tried to find books and papers about them but they seem to be mostly mythological creatures that random people have written about. Grian looked over the books with me but he doesn’t think most of the information is correct. I've claimed him as my patient, and I believe he has claimed me as a sort of patient as well. He refuses to sleep unless I do. I believe it's just the kindness he carries with him, he's less pessimistic than I had originally gathered but he had just fallen from the sky after being held captive for an unknown amount of time. All that being said, he continues to stay in the lab seeing as he doesnt have any family, or doesn’t remember. He doesn’t even necessarily think he's from this world. Which, opens up the idea of multiple dimensions, exciting stuff for a man like me really. Once again I will report back soon with more information.

Blog entry number 3: Day thirty

Something strange has started to happen, perhaps it's due to the stress but Grian seems to be strangely concerned about it. The fronts of my hair have begun to grey out, nothing too serious, I feel perfectly fine. It's probably because I’ve been working too hard. On another note, I think I’ve figured it out. Grians DNA from the feathers mixed with the chemical compounds of CH4 and CHN2OPS, must be injected through the skin directly into the vein. I believe it is possible I have found it. A test subject is all I really need, I’ve sent Grian out to find and catch rats to test on. He's found one, and it hasn’t died yet. Thinking about it now, I don’t know why I made immortal rats. Ignoring work, Grian and I have been getting closer, I think we must be connected somehow. For someone like me, a scientist that is, it is surprising for many to hear that I believe in a predetermined destiny, and that destiny has brought Grian to me for quite a few reasons I don’t think I’m ready to disclose yet. Not to him, or whoever is reading this blog here. Besides, I need to do more research and distractions aren’t necessary.

Blog entry number 4: Day sixty

I’m starting to fear that the greying isn’t normal. It has spread from the beginnings of my hair to the very roots and all over. I feel older somehow, my bones feel lighter? Grian says he does not truly believe I am okay and has begged me many times to stop my work. But how can I stop now? When I have already come this far? I know the immortality shot works and I can just give it to myself, the first human test subject. He says he's worried about me, about what will happen. He claims that the Watchers are punishing him, through me. Although, I’m not sure why they would do that because I haven’t even known him for long but maybe it ties back into the whole fate thing. I am a little bit worried about how this is all affecting Grian, especially because he hasn’t been talking much, I’m sure he's just feeling a bit under the weather. Right? Today though, I think something happened between us. I'm not an experienced person but there was a moment where everything felt okay, we were just sitting together, me on my stool, and him in his small chair in the corner. He's found a way underneath my skin. I’d be lying if I said I want him to leave. I have thoroughly enjoyed his company more than I’ve ever enjoyed someone else's company. I'd usually consider myself a loner but I don’t want to be alone again. I think he feels similarly, I think that's why he's so worried about the greying. I don’t know.

Blog entry number 5: Day eighty-seven

I was supposed to die today. I should’ve listened to him, I really should have. Science isn't meant to mess with the laws of nature. People die and I've passed my prime in a short time. As of a few minutes ago my body was roughly around the age of seventy-five or so. Grian is gone now, he traded his life for mine. I can’t even thank him. He came here just to bid me goodbye, and through the crack in the door I caught sight of the Watcher, it was beautiful in a sick kind of way. I'm young again, I’ll die one day but not now. For the rest of my life I’ll be mourning somebody who fell out of the sky, and anybody could hardly believe me. All I can keep thinking is about how I shouldn’t have done this, I was so insistent, and wrong, and right at the same time. I did figure it out but the cost was what mattered. I’m back to being alone, I caught a glimpse of my appearance in the mirror. My hair is back to dark, it doesn’t feel real. Even running my fingers through the thick hairs on my head. I’m stressed, I want to forget this all. Every last second.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 104 (Chasing Ghosts)

The time after Winterfest was quiet in Brindleton Bay. Heather's clinic was slower with families still out of town, and she spent the extra few hours a day at home with her kids. Tonight, Heather tried to get picky Lavender to eat mashed avocado in her high chair.

Ash tried not to look at the mess she was making as he ate his own dinner, explaining in detail why it was better to get food in her tummy than on the floor. She gazed at him with keen interest as usual.

"Ass-ee!" She babbled her attempt to say 'Ashy' with giggles, followed by a short hiccup.

Conrad, on the other hand, was working long, frustrating hours, and Heather encouraged him to take Gord to Deadgrass Isle to run off steam and clear his head.

"Bring the ambrosia treats," she reminded him.

"Am I supposed to be chasing ghosts out there, or clearing my head?"

"You know I won't be upset if you bring home a new stray."

He chuckled as he walked out the door, heading down to Fisherman's Wharf with Gord, where they caught the small ferry to Deadgrass Isle. It was late and the museum was almost empty. Once again, Conrad saw no sign of the old man, and he walked back to the snow-covered path outside.

Gord jumped, in a playful mood, and Conrad set aside his frustration to bask in the simple joy Gord could find in a broken stick. "Go on, Gord. Get it!" he said, but this time Gord's paws stayed planted in the snow.

The Bernese looked beyond him with a curious woof. Conrad followed Gord's line of sight, making out a glowing green and translucent figure in the distance. Too small to be a human, Gord took off running, and the ghostly pup raced on all fours toward him.

"Wait! Gord, stop!" Conrad called, racing after him. His shoes crunched snow underfoot, but Gord wouldn't heed his call.

Gord and the ghost dog met one another along the tree lined path, hind quarters at the ready, but neither let out so much as a growl. Catching his breath, Conrad finally caught up to them and the ghost dog glanced at him warily.

"Hey there, fella. It's alright. We won't hurt you." Conrad showed his palms. Gord looked on cautiously, but made no move to attack.

Conrad let the ghost dog sniff him, and when he didn't run away, he reached into his pocket. He had an ambrosia treat and some Buttercups, but he remembered something Felix Psyded had said about ghosts and unfinished business. Not all ghosts want to be revived, Felix had told them, so he decided against the ambrosia treat and tore open the package of Buttercups, instead.

The ghost dog howled excitedly as he devoured the all-natural treats, jumping playfully toward Conrad in gratitude. He barked. Three long howls followed by three ruffs. Long, short, short, long again. Almost like Morse code. "Are you trying to tell me something, pup? I'm sorry, I don't know what you're saying."

The ghost dog whimpered, but Conrad's attention was pulled away when his phone rang. He checked the call display and laughed. "Felix! I was just thinking about you, believe it or not."

"Of course you were. I thought you might have missed me, so I thought I'd call to find out how you were doing and let you know I've made quite the breakthrough with your old man at the museum."

"Life's real busy, Felix. The kids are good, work is pretty unforgiving these days, and Gord and I were just talking to a ghost dog."

"Oh, is that all? How's Heather?"

"She's great. The best. You don't know how to communicate with dog spirits, do you?"

"Afraid not. Strictly human ghosts for me. I never liked how ghostly pets could sneak up on a person."

"What have you got on the old man, then?"

"I think your ghost is the old lighthouse keeper who died before the light went out. I remember reading about the mysterious shipwreck when I was a young officer in the Navy."

"What's his name?"

"That's the most interesting part. His name was Ben Gordon."

Conrad shrugged. He was tired. Even Gord and the ghost dog were ready to nap at his feet. "Weird coincidence."

"I don't think it is. I still prefer researching from books, but I pulled up one of those helpful new websites with all those family trees and digital census records. Then I verified my findings with Brindleton Bay's local librarian, Gunther Lynx-Munch. I think Ben Gordon was your great-great-great-great grandfather's brother! A lonely type - old newspaper articles I found on library computers said he lived with his dog and otherwise alone. Never socialized with locals who came ashore to his island to view the old lighthouse. Maybe the reason you can see him and no one else knows what you're talking about is because his message is only for you, a living relative."

"If that's true, why hasn't he shown up to give me his message in years since I first met him? Maybe he's...passed on already."

"Maybe. Or maybe he can see that you're busy."

He thought back to the night they met. He'd made it clear he was distracted back then, and it's not like he hadn't been distracted since. "Can he see that I'm starting to get a little bit desperate? I really need a case I can solve right about now."

"If whatever he has to say is important enough he's waited over one hundred fifty years to say it, he can wait as long as he needs until he thinks you're ready. Try sending some signals. He might pick up on something."

"Like what?"

"Try talking to him."

Conrad scoffed. He'd always found it impossible to talk to the dead. A ghost standing in front of him could at least talk back, but he could never really say much to his parents' gravestones. Knowing he'd never hear a response made it too hard to try.

Felix sighed. "Or, stay desperate. Up to you."

Conrad stifled a groan, shaking his head at the smug former spectre on the other end of the line. "Thanks for looking into this, Felix. If he ever decides to show himself again, I'll let you know how it goes. How about you? How's living in Britechester these days?"

"Oh, it's exactly as I remember it. The fashion has changed, but the buildings in town look quite the same as they did when I founded the old university. I've scheduled my bar exam for early in the new year. I'm studying every day and watching a lot of Court TV, to tell you the truth. I've seen plenty of contemporary attorneys in action and I know exactly the kind of lawyer I'd like to be."

"Oh yeah, like who?" Conrad wasn't really all that interested in a bunch of lawyers, but Felix loved to talk and he was grateful for a momentary distraction.

"I have so many models to look up to, it's quite a wonderful thing! I've followed the work of prosecutor Aaron York. He's on track to be a fine judge someday and I would consider myself star-struck to ever present in his court, but he worked a recent case defending a young woman from an assault charge. He's a family man and a man of law, right after my own heart. And of course I'm as glued to the Alegria v. Caruso trial as anyone else, even though it's currently in recess! That Antonio Romero, Esquire is simply fantastic! His presence in a courtroom is so powerful. He's like a modern-day Felix Psyded."

"Don't you mean Felix Psyded, Esquire?"

Felix laughed. "I knew I'd get you to say it sooner than later, Sargent."

Conrad rolled his eyes. "Sounds like you're putting in the work, Felix. How are you making money since you won't let Heather and I pay you?"

"Until I take the bar exam I've found steady work as a process server here in town. I have so much to learn from everyone in the building, but one junior lawyer in particular is really something! Unfortunately I embarrassed myself when I overheard her talking about going out to dinner with an Orange. I thought she meant the fruit, but apparently Orange is a name for living sims these days! I'm afraid she thinks I'm a fool. But she's a real spitfire, and she's working the Dulce Alegria trial, too. Antoinette Wolff is her name!"

Conrad perked up at the mention of her. "I think I know her. Or her brother, anyway. Solomon Wolff and I used to be partners back in San Myshuno."

"In that case, maybe you could put in a good word, so she knows I'm not an imbecile. But I should go; I have many more cases to read about before the exam. Let me know when you've seen the old man again, and don't be a stranger."

He hung up with Felix and smiled. Did he actually feel lighter after talking to Felix Psyded? It seemed unbelievable. He glanced back toward the glowing green dog, who had waited patiently with Gord while Conrad took Felix' call.

A thought struck him. The ghost could have been any dog from the pet cemetery beyond the trees, but his bark sounded vaguely familiar, like the dog he swore he heard inside the lighthouse with Heather. "Did you know a man named Ben Gordon, old buddy?"

The dog barked excitedly, feverishly wagging his tail. "Do you know where he is?"

The ghost dog howled, but Conrad couldn't understand. He checked his watch. It was getting late, and he knew he should get back to the mainland. "We've got to head home, but Gord and I will be back. Maybe by then I'll have a better idea what you want."

With a nuzzle against Conrad's hand, the ghost dog seemed to acknowledge his promise. He returned home, greeting Heather in the living room.

"Did you bring home a new stray?" she asked, but her face fell in mock sadness when she saw he'd only brought home one very smelly dog.

"Not tonight. But apparently the old lighthouse keeper was a distant relative of mine, and Felix Psyded said when he thinks I'm ready, he'll find me again to give me his message."

"Maybe he'll think you're ready after you give Gord a bath and have a shower," she teased.

Conrad took care of their needs while Heather finished helping Ash with his homework, and he tried not to think too much about Felix' advice to talk to the dead. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Did I get through the ghost dog arc before the Life & Death pack updated and made this dog a living stray? No. Have I figured out how to turn the dog back into a ghost so I can just give him the ambrosia treats when I have it plotted? Also no. There was no option to simply flip the dog to an occult ghost in CAS like there is for human sims, I looked! The reason I waited is because in the rabbit hole adventures involving the dog, they made several trips to build up their friendship. In addition to everything else they've got going on that makes adopting another dog right now just too much, I was trying to mirror the adventure with storyline.

Any advice for re-ghosting the dog is welcome. I have one idea that involves forcing the dog to unalive with MCCC in a second save to get ghostly shots again, and adopting the living dog Conrad and Gord are now friendly with in the main save when it's time, but not jumping between saves could be better if it's possible! Just a peek behind the magic curtain of 'filming' Sims In Bloom lolol.

[batsplat]

February 2014 (text from Mat Oxley's The Valentino Rossi Files: Everything I've ever written about VR: From 2008 to now):

During the winter the nine-time champ spent more time than usual thrashing round his dirt track ranch, keeping himself mentally and physically sharp and getting used to a motorcycle moving around beneath him. He knows that Marc Marquez’s ability to ride on the ragged edge with a more muscular, more sideways style is changing MotoGP, so he needs to change with it. Rossi may never look as spectacular as Marquez on a dirt bike or a MotoGP bike, but both his former and current crew chiefs believe he can do better than he did last year, when Marquez made him look rather second rate.

Rossi on inviting Marquez to the ranch:

"Yeah, for sure, a lot of time. But I think that Emilio [Alzamora, Marquez's manager] is not very happy that Marc come because he said that after we make a race and maybe it's dangerous." (x)

A Sideways Glance at Misano 2014, including pre-event karting on Wednesday night where Marquez reportedly struggled:

Misano 2014 (text from Mat Oxley's Valentino Rossi: All His Races):

^ Márquez won the first ten races of 2014 and this was the first time all year he was beaten in a straight duel. He couldn't handle Rossi's pace at Misano, so he ended up losing the front and falling.

Valentino was fast throughout practice and secured his first front-row start of 2014. [Rossi was asked after qualifying about the threat posed by Marquez and Lorenzo, identifying Lorenzo as the favourite before adding, "But you never know with Marc. He's a bastard."] In the race he rode better than in years, hanging his upper body inside the motorcycle more than ever before to increase turning. He snatched the lead from Lorenzo and then fended off Márquez, who struggled to find enough grip to match Vale. At one-third distance the world champion pushed it too far and slid off, so Vale cruised home 1.6 second ahead of Lorenzo. His crew had done a great job of creating maximum grip via adjustment to chassis balance and electronics set-up. His 107th GP victory showed he was once again as fast as anyone, because when he won at Assen 2013 he didn't have to beat Márquez, Lorenzo or Pedrosa, who were all injured. "It's fantastic to come back to victory again," he beamed after his first win with [new crew chief Silvano] Galbusera. "I knew we could fight and I pushed from the start. I always work hard and never give up and trust that days like this can happen."

^ The breakthrough win at Misano. For the first time since his return to Yamaha he had gone head-to-head with Jorge Lorenzo and Marc Márquez and beaten them both. From this moment another world title was a possibility.

(x for more details)

Aragon 2014 press conference:

Rossi: Revenge at the ranch! No, first of all, we enjoy a lot, because have a lot of riders and also from superbike and a lot of bike on the track and was a good day, yeah. Marc was very fast, already fast like me at the first time, as always, and I think he did the best lap time but I won the race so is 1-1, so is... come si dice, pareggio pareggio [tied]. Marquez: Yeah, yeah, was really nice, you know, I was really [impressed] to see his circuit, his home, because in the future I would like to have, because was impressive and riding there was all the riders was really nice and... like Valentino says, we were there fighting together like in Misano race more or less, but yeah... the important thing is that we enjoy it and was really nice to ride there with him and also with the other riders.

Valentino Rossi, Marc Marquez and the Ranch

[spencerwayne-todd]

Keeping up with the Waynes: Christmas Special, part 1

(OOC: TW: Very slight angst. It will be resolved with a happy ending in part 2. Very slight mentions of death, injuries. Nothing graphic. This one is a bit more serious, but I try to keep it as light-hearted as possible.)

*Hall of Justice; all the teams have gathered for their annual Superhero Christmas party on Christmas eve. After each team and/or family's individual Christmases, everybody gathers at the Hall of Justice in Central City for a huge Christmas party. Everybody from far and wide comes to catch up with all of their friends from across the multiverse. This year, the newest additions are the Avengers and the X-men.*

Me, spotting someone: THOR! LOKI! Oh my god, I'm so glad you made it!

Thor (Does he need an introduction?): Lady Spencer! We would not miss it! And also we had to see what sort of universe creates a person such as yourself.

Me: That is actually why most of these people are here. WIll the others be joining us?

Loki: Yes, well, it is a conundrum. The rest of them should be coming along shortly.

Me: Oh, wonderful! OH! You must meet my husband; Thor, you and Bucky, (when he gets here), will love him. JASON!

Jason, talking to Diana Prince and J'onn Jones: Coming!

*Jason somes over*

Jason: What's up, hon?

Me: I want you to meet Loki, Norse god of Mischief, and his brother Thor, God of Thunder.

Jason: Oh, yeah, hey! Spencer mentioned you all in her mission report a couple months ago. I've been wanting to meet you.

*Thor and Loki both stand agape*

Me: Are you ok?

Loki: Uh, yes. Yes! *Hits Thor* It's just that we've never seen someone dwarf my brother before.

Jason, laughing: Believe me, it took some getting used to.

Me: Very funny, Jason. Anyway, I thought you all might hit it off. Loki loves tricks and scheming to take over the world; Thor loves beer and fighting.

Jason: Tricks and scheming to take over the world? You have to meet my brother; Loki, you'll love him. TIM!

Tim, appearing with gigantic spiked coffee in his hand: Hello.

Loki: Hello?

Jason: Replacement! Loki here likes tricks and scheming to take over the world.

Loki: I also enjoy knives and using them to stab people.

Tim: You like knives and stabbing? You have got to meet my brother; Loki, you'll love him. DAMIAN!

Me: Ok, boys! Have fun. I think the rest of your people just came through the door, and I know my little brother has been dying to meet Sam.

*Spencer leaves that group while Damian begins excitedly showing his favorite knives to Loki, who admires them and in turn shows Damian his.*

Me, activating Wayne Family Comms: August, meet me by the fondue table in 3 minutes.

August, somewhere: Roger that.

*Three minutes later*

Me: August, this is Sam Wilson, known in his universe as the superhero Falcon.

Sam: Hey, August!

August: HI!

Me: I thought that since you both have wings, and since Hawkman and Hawkgirl are both AWOL this year, you may be able to help each other out with this whole flying thing.

Sam: Absolutely! What would you like to know?

August: Well, for one thing...

*Spencer walks away, and passes J'onn Jones and Professor Charles Xavier staring into each other's eyes, unblinking.*

Me: Evening, gentlemen. Enjoying yourselves?

J'onn: Yes. Professor Xavier and I were just having the most interesting conversation about molecular transfer.

Me: Telepathic, I assume.

Charles: Yes. I believe Mr. Jones' Martian abilities may be able to help us discover more about mutations than ever before.

Me: That's great! I do hope you come to a breakthrough.

*Spencer moves off and bumps into Bruce Wayne, who is engages in a lively conversation on modern technology with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner*

Bruce (Wayne): Hey, Spence!

Me: Hi, dad! Having fun?

Bruce (Wayne): Always do!

Me: Stay away from the tequila this year, please!

Bruce (Wayne), deadpan: You're hilarious.

Me: I know!

*Spencer moves through the crowd, and up onto the roof. A single person is sitting there, on an outdoor couch in front of a firepit*

Me: Hey, mom. Sorry I took so long.

Selina Kyle (Catwoman): Aww, it's ok, kiddo. I just got here a second ago myself. That Romanoff girl is fascinating!

Me, sitting down next to Selina: Natasha? Yeah. She's been through a lot.

Selina: How have you been doing?

Me: Horrible. I haven't told Jason.

Selina: Honey, you have to tell him.

Me: Oh, yeah. I just saunter up to him and say "Hey, you know a couple months ago when I was feeling super nauseous and sick every morning, but I went on that mission to Ancient Roman empire, and I got stabbed in the gut? Turns out, I was pregnant, and not only did I lose the baby I didn't know I had, but because if the stab wound, I can't have any more." Yeah, mom. That'll go over real well.

Selina: It will. You and Jason have been in love since before Bruce adopted him. I think he will understand. Just talk to him.

Me: I don't want to! Ugh! Emotions are so disgusting!

Selina: You and Jason have always been the best at communicating in our family.

Me: That's not saying much.

Selina: Sweetie, I know. I'm dating your father. Anyway, have you girls decided where we're going to go this year on our girls' trip?

Me: Steph, Babs, and I decided to let Cass choose this year, and she hasn't yet decided. I think she's torn between deep-sea diving and Yeti hunting.

Selina: I bet she'll go with Yeti hunting.

Me: It would be fun. We haven't done that in years.

Selina: Alright, before I let the subject change too much, promise me that you'll talk to Jason after Christmas.

Me: Ok. I promise.

Selina: Great!

Me: Ugh, why do I let you talk me into stuff?!

Selina: Because I'm your mother, and you love me.

Me: Yeah, yeah.

*Scene switches to Jason at the party, standing in a group with all of his brothers and some of the Avengers. His phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pocket. After reading it for a second, he turns and speed-walks out of the party, grabbing Roy by the arm and draggin him as he exits*

Roy: Woah, woah, Jay! What's up?

Jason: I need a drink.

Roy: It's Christmas Eve. Nothing's open.

Jason: Everything's open.

*They walk down the street a while before entering a small bar*

Roy, after their drinks arrive: So, wanna tell me why you just dragged me out of a very nice conversation with Donna (Donna Troy/ Wonder Girl)?

Jason: Spencer was pregnant.

Roy: I'm sorry, what?

Jason: Yep. Gideon just sent me the file. Spencer didn't even know until a couple of months ago.

Roy: Wow, ok. This is new. You said 'was'?

Jason: The stab wound from the Rome mission. It killed the baby and injured her so badly that she can't have any more kids.

Roy: Oh, wow. Um, ok. Have you talked about it?

Jason: She hasn't told me.

Roy: Oh, god. Ok, hang on. We're gonna need the bottle.

*After the bottle arrives*

Roy: Alright, from the top. Go.

*Two hours and several drinks later*

Roy: And so, she hasn't told you.

Jason: Right.

Roy: And you're mad at her.

Jason, sighing: No. I mean, what would I have done? I don't know how I would tell me if I was in her shoes.

Roy: True. It's got to be killing her.

Jason: Yeah. And I don't want her to be upset. I love her! I married her, for goodness sake.

Roy: Then wait.

Jason: For what?

Roy: For her to tell you. You two are the best at communication in your whole family.

Jason: That's not saying much.

Roy: Still, wait. She'll tell you.

Jason: I know. And I will be loving and understanding.

Roy: And sober.

Jason: Ooh, yeah, that's a good idea. Sober.

Roy: Let's go.

*Jason throws a $100 on the counter and they leave*

( Part 2 will be following soon.)

(@august0bone)

[givemeonereason]

Meditations: First, the Friend and then, the Son

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Photo Credit: Here

Dragon Ball Masterlist Givemeonereason Masterlist

Rating: SO MANY FEELS

Plot: Krillin seeks out Gohan to get some more information about the girl who lost her "Piccolo." A warmth between friends and family.

A/N: Hello, and thank you for patiently waiting for me to write up this next installment. I kept saying I was writing and I kept pushing it aside. Depression is so real and writers burn out is really real too. I think I just overdid it.

I'm so excited and happy that this series has taken off. Seems like there really is an audience for Piccolo. And he deserves it! I'll keep it going for as long as the story needs it. Tall, green, and handsome love for all.

╒══════════════════════╕

The police speeder came to an abrupt halt outside Son Gohan estate.

When Krillin gingerly unhooked his regulation helmet and hung it from the handlebars of his unit, the elderly man who was tending to flowers in the garden was swiftly walking towards the main house.

After he disappeared through a side door a kind-looking, middle-aged woman came out to greet him.

"Good morning, sir." She bowed her head politely. "To what do we owe the pleasure of the local law enforcement?"

The formality of the situation made Krillin perk up his shoulders. "Sorry, ma'am I need to speak with Gohan. Do you know if he's around?"

"I believe he is in the library." She turned on her heel. "Please follow me."

What seemed like an endless amount of stairs for a pair of small legs, the door to the library was ajar. Gohan was buried among several piles of books, a laptop, and three mugs, which presumably had an unknown concoction of caffeine.

"Gohan." Krillin called out to him as he walked towards the desk, but Gohan only pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He scribbled vigorously at the notepad before him.

"Gohan?" Krillin repeated with a little more oomph. Gohan began to mumble to himself.

with the help of prefectural flora cultivation, this can provide direct resources to the habitat of-

"Gohan! Snap out of it."

Gohan shook his head and blinked his eyes a few times while readjusting his thick black frames. "Whoa, Krillin I didn't see you there."

"Obviously..." Krillin rolled his eyes.

"Gosh, how long have you been here." Gohan finished the sentence he was muttering and almost stabbed the notepad when he poked the paper at the period.

"Well, I've been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now."

"Okay, I'm sorry I'm on the verge of a breakthrough here." He picked up a large blue mug and took a swig, only to spit it back into the glass. His face contorted when he tried to wipe his tongue on his sleeve.

Krillin had picked up a book nearest him and flipped through a few pages. "Cognitive Ecology of Pollination: Animal Behaviour and Floral Evolution." Too many words. He set the book back down and crossed his arms. "This might be out of left field, but have you seen Piccolo lately?"

"Not today, no."

"No, I just mean recently. There is something fishy is going on. I don't know if you know about the girl?"

"There's a girl?" Gohan took a sip from a different mug garnished with a Satan City logo. He set that one down quickly. "Did Piccolo do something to a girl? I'm not sure I understand."

"That's what I'm trying to find out." Krillin took a seat in a wooden car adjacent to the large desk. "This is going to sound odd. Considering we've seen and experienced some very odd things in the past, this one is hard to place when it comes to weird."

Krillins folded his hands and relaxed his shoulders. "Well, here goes. Long story short; I got a report of a girl screaming on a hillside about an instrument. When I went to investigate the girl said she lost her piccolo. I put two and two together and figured she might be talking about our Piccolo. So when I went to The Hideout to ask Piccolo about this girl, he got defensive and said he did something to her. And I think he couldn't forgive himself, or I don't remember fine details."

Gohan sat for a few moments in silence thinking. "Do you know this girl?"

"Never met her a day in my life...until I spoke with her."

Gohan scratched at his hairline, pushing the rouge tuft of hair out of his face only for it to fall back down towards his eyes. "Piccolo hasn't said anything to me about a woman." His shoulders were undulated with confusion.

Before Gohan could circle the same conclusion, he spoke again. "Whatever it is, he seems to care enough about this girl. You know him. He's a pretty unfazed guy. Very serious. Not too emotional, or softish. You know what I mean."

Gohan reached out for the last mug on the desk, hesitating before grabbing the handle. He stared down at the contents swirling around in contemplation and decided against it. The mug clanked against the desk surface as Krillin's pleaded with him.

"I was kind of wondering if you would go talk to him? He practically demanded I leave The Hideout when I pressed the issue. If he's going to talk to anyone it's got to be you. You're practically his son."

The last bit made Gohan chuckle. "I don't know Krillin. If he didn't want to talk about it, maybe we should just leave it alone."

Krillin stood up and walked towards Gohan. "Could you just at least try. If he doesn't open up to you then I'll let it go, okay?"

"Okay, okay." Gohan stood up, pressing his palms against the armrests of his chair. "I'll go to talk to him tomorrow morning. I'll call you when I get back."

Krillin smiled widely. "Thanks Gohan. I just think, you know, he does.. has done so much for us that we can try and help him too sometimes. Even if he says he doesn't want it."

═══════════════════

When the morning light touched the western side of The Hideout, Gohan walked through the threshold Piccolos room. “Hey, Piccolo.”

Piccolo turned towards the similarly dressed young man, putting down the small, leather bound book in his hands on the small desk beside him. “Gohan, what brings you here this early.”

Gohan stretched his arms, his elbow popping loud enough to warrant a light echo. He laughed with some embarrassment. “Well, I guess I’m just a little rusty. I was wondering if we could spar?”

The upturned smirk told all Gohan needed to know before the two of them were passing blows hovering over the ground far below them.

One after the other, fists flying, blocking, dodging, power surging. Time was passing as the sun arched across the sky, but it only felt like moments. The adrenaline of the fight.

When Gohan began to tire slightly he landed a singular hit that propelled Piccolo back that anyone with even the best eyesight wouldn’t have seen. The super Sayain gives his all in the last throes of battle.

Piccolo gathered his equilibrium, and wiped the blood staining his lip against his forearm. He laughed as he landed on the grass below them. “You say you’re rusty, but you still got it, kid. You just got to put your mind to it.” He gently patted Gohan’s head, shaking his hair lightly.

Gohan plopped down to the ground and lay sprawling, taking in breaths. Piccolo sat down near him cross-legged. "I still think you have it in you to be the strongest, Gohan. But you've got a family now and your studies. You have more important battles to fight than just with your fists."

Gohan put his hands behind the back of his head. "I get discouraged sometimes. Everyone chastizes me for not keeping up with training. I'm 'a shame to the Sayain race,' or 'If only he could have---'" He shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if Dad is still proud of me, even if my progress is strictly academic." He pondered on the thought. "It really doesn't matter, does it? Between Dad and Vegta there won't be anyone as strong. There won't be anyone who can't save the world." He looked over at Piccolo. "You're pretty strong too Piccolo."

Piccolo let out a deep, humph. "You are still stronger than me. And I only get involved when I am needed."

"Right. Why should we constantly have to be ready for a threat that might never come?"

"They always do."

Gohan sighed, closing his eyes. "Well, if they need me I will always be there. I won't let anything happen to anyone. Not after all the things we faced before."

The subtle sounds of nature became more apparent with this silence. The shallow sounds of breathing between them. Piccolo looked off into the near distance, his voice calm and relaxed. "If it accounts for anything, I am very proud of the man you've become."

Arms were tightly wrapped around. "Thank you for never giving up on me Piccolo."

Piccolo smiled to himself as Gohan sat down next to him. "I've been meaning to ask you something. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"A what?" Piccolo's voice turned deep again with seriousness.

"A girlfriend. You know, someone who you like and date." The look in Gohan's eyes was hopeful and sweet.

Tch- "I know what a girlfriend is. Why are you asking me this?"

"Well, Krillin stopped by and---"

"Not this again. Did that small man send you to do his bidding?"

Gohan got up and followed Piccolo when he began to walk away. He shouted, "I told him to stay out of it."

Gohan picked up his pace to meet the Namekian. "I don't even understand what Krillin was saying. But I wish you would just tell me what's going on. If not, you know he's going to get my dad involved."

Piccolo stopped and grunted. His arms crossed in defiance. Anything but Goku getting involved. Piccolo will NEVER hear the end of this. And if Goku makes a big deal out of this, it's everyone's problem.

But it's just his problem.

He stood quiet and tense. Gohan stood beside him stretching his legs and preparing to leave for home.

"I--" He started and stopped.

Hmmm, Gohan turned towards him.

"I don't even know how it happened. She came out of nowhere. Day after day, she prodded me with questions about myself. She sat with me as I meditated. She wasn't frightened of me." Piccolo was speaking so fervently and fastidiously that he was almost out of breath. "And I didn't know why or what to do. So I tried to show her that she shouldn't be so curious. I tried to scare her. I tried to stop her from coming around." His arms were tight against his chest. His chin pressed down into his collarbone.

Gohan watched Piccolo in awe. He's never seen this man act in such a way. The sorrow within the tightness of his shut eyes. The deep purple across his cheeks. Piccolo usually being a towering man, now pulling inward at his middle.

Gohan reached out and hugged him again. "Okay..." He looked at Piccolo, who bent his shoulders, which would normally be difficult to see over his shoulder pads. "Okay." Gohan's hand on Piccolo's forearm. His voice was so sweet and kind. "What did you do to scare her?"

Piccolo only took a deep breath. His booming voice was now almost a whisper. "I picked her up and took her in the air, flying. I flew and made myself out to be like another version of myself. I tried to make myself into King Piccolo." He's bent over near Gohan's shoulder, and Gohan lets him rest his forehead. "I made myself into something worth being frightened by. I didn't want her to trust so easily because she can easily become fodder like so many others have." His voice was almost nonexistent. "I could have killed her."

"But you didn't kill her, right?"

Piccolo shook his head. "But I could have."

"You didn't though. Sure, you could have maybe got your point across in a different way, but she's alright, right?"

"The look of terror in her eyes. The tears. I don't know why-- why I went--"

Gohan could hear the choked sobs before he pushed Piccolo back to face him. "Piccolo, I have known you my whole life and I've never seen you like this. You're like a whole different person. Usually, you're a very reserved guy, but I know these types of feelings. You must care a great deal for this girl. You're beating yourself up over the smallest thing." Piccolo kept his eyes closed shut, but his head lifted slightly, his arms relaxing as much as he could muster. "Hey, at least you don't explode or anything. You don't resort to your power because a lady is hurt or in danger. Blame it on the Sayain blood.”

Piccolo tried to straighten up and fix his posture. He wiped the tears that escaped from his eyes against his sleeve. Swallowing down his feelings deep into his chest.

“Piccolo, you’re allowed to have feelings like everyone else. Look at Dad, he’s an alien and he’s insane half the time.” Gohan laughed. “It’s okay to care about something for once. I know you care about me, about my family. But you can also care about something for yourself. If you care that deeply about this girl then I think you should talk to her. I think you should set things right between the two of you. Even if nothing comes of it and you just get closure.” Gohan pointed to Piccolo’s chest, pressing down into the fabric of the Namekian’s purple Gi. “If for all of us, but just for you.”

Gohan turned and started to walk away, calling over his shoulder. “You don’t need to bare the weight of this on your own. We’re always here for you. This is just a different type of fight.” He began hovering over the ground. “I have to get home before Videl gets angry.” He laughed. “Responsibilities.”

Piccolo could he his voice fading as he flew away. “All you have to do is try, Piccolo.”

Piccolo stood there, silent. The weight in his chest was still heavy. Do I care about this woman this greatly? He pressed his palm firmly against his chest, his cape flittering in the wind behind him. A heart beating strong behind his fingers. Is this love or understanding?

What I was once so sure about, I am at a loss.

Who do I want to be now?

(Just an extra reference photo here of our precious, green boy) Credit

╘══════════════════════╛

© 2024 givemeonereason

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

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Tag List:

@jadew-08, @sussybacca, @imaginarydreams, @oriistar, @mddbsf, @boogeysmoth, @stefnarda

To be added or removed from the tag list reach out through asks or messages. Please and thank you.

[allboutheyaoi]

Did you see about the Tadaima, Okaeri anime??? I’m sure you did… what are your thoughts? I’ve been rereading after a long time and falling right back in love with all of them… They’re perfect honestly >.<

YES I DID!!! I can't believe we're getting a BL OMEGAVERSE animated in real time. We've come so far my loves. I'm genuinely looking forward to its release in April this year. This might actually be a breakthrough for more omegaverse BL to be animated in the future. (*wink wink* Kashikomarimashita, Destiny one day perhaps)

Meanwhile, I've been rewatching Sasaki to Miyano again and god it made me missed watching BLs. I know Cherry Magic is currently airing and it looks fabulous. But I'm waiting for all episodes to be out so I can binge watch them!

[milkywayes]

dreamt a cipher

a shepard/garrus post-destroy ending longfic.

[AO3 link]

I’ve debated a while about when to start posting this. Now it’s the new year, and I’ve been working on Cipher for over a year and a half, and I’ve waited long enough to start sharing it with you all. I’ve decided it’s finally time to start uploading while I work on the final chapters.

I started writing this before I ever drew a single piece of fanart for Mass Effect. It’s all the things that were bouncing around in my head after choosing the destroy ending with a mostly-paragon Shepard—consequence and responsibility and self-recrimination; her relationship with Garrus and with herself; their ties to each other and how much weight they can bear; their differing perspectives and how they slot together—all that fun stuff—compressed into a story, a place, a narrative. 

I believe in the power of love, and I promise a happy ending. They’ve just been taking the long way to get there. Feel free to yell at me in the meantime.

A huge thank you to @callista-curations for her meticulous and invaluable beta work, and to @that-wildwolf and @gammaraydeath for being the best hypemen I could ask for!

A more detailed list of warnings can be found on AO3.

I've posted the full cover art here.

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Summary:

Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Rating: M (subject to change) Important Tags: post-destroy ending - angst with a happy ending - slow burn (of sorts) - arguing - reconciliation - survivor guilt - minor original characters Her own personal Noverian peak. That’s what it was supposed to be. Nothing but the discovery: no distractions, no comfort, no windows looking out—no familiar faces. But it's starting to look like her winning streak might have ended in that pile of Citadel rubble, if it ever extended that far to begin with. ──── “How does the Earth idiom go? No use beating a dead—” A long-suffering sigh. “What was it again?” “A dead horse. And yet, you’re here. Beating it.” Pot, kettle. She wishes he’d just fucking say it.

-> AO3.

Read the start of Chapter 1: Constant Velocity under the cut!

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The overhead lights flicker as they always do when the data screens are up and running. It’s not something one gets used to, even so. It stings at her ocular nerves—or something like that, anyway, somewhere along the delicate wires that extend from her eyeballs into her brain—but her focus on the data doesn’t waver.

“In that case,” says Shepard, squinting against the ache, “what we need is salvage from a relay outside the immediate burst zone. Four jumps away. Five, if possible. There’s no point to any of this if we can’t scrape together a control group.”

She glances back at Elsawy, who so far hasn’t made it more than a meter into the room. She nods without looking up from her omni-tool; orange shimmers off her shiny, black hair, giving her the uncomfortable air of a Cerberus operative. Not the worst comparison, except that Miranda would waste no time letting her know if her logic took a faulty turn somewhere. Elsawy’s just as likely to agree now and write a message detailing all her crap conclusions later.

Leaning her hip against the conference table, Shepard shifts her weight off her left leg, bites down on the sigh that almost manages to slip out. Once in the clear, she grouses, “Where the hell is Meyer? He’s the one that called this meeting.”

As it is, it’s three people in attendance and she’s the only one talking. She could’ve achieved the same results with a voice call from her quarters, where she could elevate her leg in peace and without witnesses. In the dark.

“Lab Two,” answers Elsawy, finally ripping her attention off the omni-screen and gracing Shepard with a second of eye contact. Maybe in another life she could appreciate the effort—Jesus, as if she hasn’t had her fill of lives already. “We’re close to a breakthrough on the initial output patterns. Sorry. He’s been feeding his data to me.”

“Right.” She blinks once, twice, in time with the flickering. It doesn’t help; it never does. “I’ll swing by later, then. Anything else he asked you to relay?” 

“Just that, Commander.” Elsawy is mumbling just enough that her voice has to compete with the drone of the air vents. The translator takes a second to filter out and amplify it. The result is less than perfect: “More salvage—” bzzrt—“bigger picture, you got it.” She narrows her eyes, and Shepard raises a brow. “Left leg or—” bzz!—“left hip?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Commander.”

“It’s nothing relevant,” she says pleasantly, forcing herself to stand up straight again. There’s a brief tremor shaking up her hamstrings; she waves a hand to distract from it. In the frenzy of the lights, the movement looks jerky, nervous. She soldiers on. “Old field injury. Unrelated. Anything can set it off.”

Funny, kind of, since it’s that very leg that ends in the most perfect, cooperative example of a foot she’s ever had the pleasure of treading on. It’s cloned; a replacement. Not the only one either. They should’ve just done away with the whole limb, but she hadn’t been consulted. Same with her trick shoulder. Not even Cerberus had managed to get that one back on the straight and narrow.

“I’d rather you bring it up with the doctor,” replies Elsawy. This is, apparently, what it takes for her to finally speak at a reasonable volume. “If we manage to fill even one of the data gaps…”

“I know,” she says. “I know, and I’m telling you, it’s unrelated.”

-> continue reading on AO3

[thrashkink-coven]

Hey there! I've been looking on Tumblr for someone who is experienced in ritual work with deities and isn't exclusive to Greek or Norse gods/goddesses. I've been practicing for a bit less than 3 years and I'm quite new to Demonolatry, and I don't know anyone who shares knowledge or experience on it, so I wanted to reach out for advice to someone who knows their craft. And I saw that you work with Lucifer so I was hoping you'd know about it?

I recently did a ritual (I practice traditional Demonolatry) and while I meditated I fell into a sudden trance. I've done meditation and rituals before, but this was completely new and I have never experienced this. I suddenly got scared because I didn't know what was happening and my body was moving like on it's own. Or maybe I imagined that?

I wanted to ask if this is normal, if you've ever experienced something like that? Does deep trance happen during ritual? Because I'm a bit uneasy about it and don't know how to go from here since there was a lot of energy that I didn't know where it came from and I just rushed out of the ritual. Do you have any advice or know someone who could help me? Thanks in advance.

Hi, yes! This has definitely happened to me before, most prominently when I was first really getting into my practice with Archangels. What I believe may have happened is that you had your first major "breakthrough" which is naturally unnerving because its so unnatural.

I've made a post in the past about "third eye opening techniques," and mentioned that once you start really falling into your first trance, your brain will usually snap you out of it. You'll get butterflies or feel like you're falling, and your brain will automatically make you "wake up". It may force a thought if only to make sure you can still think because your mind is so abnormally quiet; the only other time you enter this kind of "wavelength" is when you are in deep sleep, or dying. The brain is naturally averted to these things. However, in the right environment, when things align in a peculiar way, you may be more predisposed to accepting a trance. This happens most often to me when I'm seriously focused on meditating on a sigil or enn to the point where I become completely consumed with my intention of channeling a deity or spirt. This is very hard to describe with words, but you feel as though everything has stopped, you're almost a part of the environment whilst simultaneously not being "there". You're inside your body but you're not, and everything is quiet and connected.

What this really is, is a minor ego death. People who take psychedelics probably empathize easily with this feeling. Once you start learning how to counteract the natural abortive instinct, you will enter a trance like state.

The very first time I truly experienced this was with Archangel Jophiel, who has been a massive guide to me in my craft in regards to dealing with my disbelief and skepticism. I remember falling into a deep trance, in which I felt like I was no longer even in my body, but I could feel myself rising from a laying to sitting position, and when Jophiel ordered me to, I extended my hand out to him without controlling it. I immediately snapped out of it, freaked out and questioned my experience for days afterwards.

This isn't actually all that uncommon, especially in regards to deity work, mediumship and necromancy. Automatic writing for example, is a form of divination in which practitioners allow a deity or spirit to move their hand when holding a pencil. The resulting words or drawing are then interpreted by the practitioner when they have returned from the trance state.

These things can happen on accident, but its important that it's not happening unintentionally often, as this can result in developing a dissociative disorder. Grounding exercises that are typically used for things like anxiety and panic attacks can actually help very much with staying planted after a trance or an astral journey.

If you're interested in things like divination, mediumship or astral projection then practicing this skill could be very useful to you. It is a very helpful avenue for me when communicating with Lucifer. However if the idea makes you uncomfortable or distressed, using sensory tools and textures during meditation can help greatly in remaining connected to your body even while in states of deep focus. This experience is usually freaky to anyone who has it, so I wouldn't worry about it too much.

One book that I read that helped me really understand this phenomenon was "The Book of Spirit Communications" by Raymond Buckland. It speaks about the history of Mediumship as well as some techniques to practice entering trance states.

[flooftyfizzlebeans]

Theory on why we headcanon specific characters as trans more often than others, using the Fizzlebeans as evidence.

Identity based character arcs vs... other stuff based character arcs.

Warning this is EXTREMELY LONG

Starting by analyzing Floofty, as they are my expertise.

Floofty is a scientist with no help, no funding, and ambitious plans. They come across as cold and uncaring, when in reality much of their shortsightedness comes from caring too much. Not for those closest to them directly, of course. But the greater good, and grumpuskind as a whole.

Their previous line of work suggests that when they had more resources, they spent more time helping individuals. Making prosthetics is a HIGHLY variable process, each individual limb that needs one being EXTREMELY different, even on the same person. Therefore they would need to be attentive towards individuals by necessity, even when making scientific breakthroughs. I don't think they'd have amazing bedside manner but I only bring this up to stress that Floofty is capable and willing to care for others should the situation call for it. However, they probably don't feel like they can afford to care after the events that cost them.... everything.

I assume they got their awesome career position through work during school, proving themself academically in a way that their.... abrasive characteristics wouldn't interfere with. Now that they have nothing, they're trying to get it back the same way they got it, by proving themself through actions.... but who they are and how people perceive them is directly responsible for their lack of help on Snaktooth. Actually, who they are likely made it near impossible to rebuild their reputation when inevitably grumps will think they are either chopping test subjects up to make murder machines or a confidentiality liability. They think their work should speak for itself, and who they are shouldn't matter. (They might even believe that they don't matter. It's already clear that their work is worth more to them than their own life.)

Realizing what they mean to others, who they could be to them when they let go of the big picture importance, and how they can help like they so desperately want to is integral to saving them. Let them forget that they are in fact, a grumpus, the very thing they want to save, and they might as well become what they study. Bugsnax.

...

Snorpy, however, as I've stated, is pretty much the opposite. Where Floofty rejects themself, Snorpy protects himself.... prepare for a staggeringly less complete analysis thanks to Not Literally Being Snorpy. Snorpies and Snorpy experts in the notes please contribute.

Snorpy is an engineer whose inventions are held in great esteem in Snaxburg, and yet he believes the world is out to get him. (By the world I mean... the grumpinati) The grumpinati is, in fact, not out to get him, and it takes incredible amounts of jumping to conclusions fueled by intense fear for anyone to shrink their world that small.

It's implied by his previous work that he was previously much more capable of... interacting with the public? being seen? than he is now. Like I mentioned, constructing prosthetics requires a lot of individual time and care, and a lot of interacting with many different grumpuses. But now? He is driven by fear. I can't even blame him, he's clearly deeply traumatized. How would you feel if your life's work was taken and warped for something you found cruel and evil all while you still depended on them for your livelihood? And you already probably had some sort of anxiety disorder?

Moving on, he is actually able to work perfectly fine. In fact, nearly every grumpus is seen using something he invented at least once? Despite inventions like The Knife Shot and flammable tripwire moments he's well liked by the town and everyone trusts his work to... work. But he's so absorbed by his own perceptions that it's impossible for him to take praise or even socialize without suspicion.

Even the relationship he holds most dear, and integral to what we call "Snorpy" is up in the air for him. I can only imagine he didn't ask for clarification or confess to his romantic feelings towards Chandlo out of fear. Fear of what exactly I can't say, as it's probably every possible factor that that course of action would change.

And... well. His main problem is never solved. Shelda is right, he needs therapy. Extensive therapy. But... he still improves. Part of why he does all of this is to protect Chandlo, and hide all of this from him... but after fighting Daddy Cakelegs it becomes a lot more clear to Snorpy that Chandlo is trying to protect him and knows a lot more than he gives him credit for. He's a lot closer to and more equal to Snorpy. Snorpy doesn't have to spend and sacrifice every fiber of his being to the bugsnax to protect who he loves.

That being said, who he is has nothing to do with his character arc. He's Snorpy, he's a nerd, he is an engineer. None of this is brought into question. Floofty's very status of "grumpus" is called into question through their experiments. (on an esoteric level. kinda. bugsnax are weird.)

What they share is their interactions with other grumpuses and how important actually letting themselves connect with others is... but that's something Everyone shares at least a little.

How does this relate to transgender headcanons? Floofty's arc features their identity very heavily, and calling the identity of the self into question is extremely transgender. Sometimes the definition of transgender. At the very least, a part of the process. (everyone is different)

That's why I think Shelda, Chandlo, and Wiggle are so popular for trans headcanons despite not necessarily doing anything outside their gender's norms. Their arcs heavily have to do with who they are and how their actions reflect that. Gramble and Triffany have a little bit of this but I can't rule out their gender non-comformity as the reason.

Of course, everyone is transgender to at least one person in the fandom because there's nothing proving anyone is cis and this fandom is very very queer.

[madamefluffnstuff]

Can I request a one shot of Fennorian working hard in his study but Vestige comes in and convinces him to relax 🥺

@rvnwtch and I both had the same idea, and *I* originally got the idea from a post by @i-simp-for-fennorian :3 (which I can no longer find the original post on Tumblr but I can find it on Google for some reason! :,D)

Also thought it would be very appropriate for their Ravenwatch Posting Event.~

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fennorian?" A soft voice called down the hallway. No answer came. The Vestige walked down the corridor until she reached a familiar door. Inside, the faint sound of bubbling and glass clinking could be heard. A book page turning, followed by a hasty quill scribbling, and the unsettling noise of glass sliding on metal, most likely from the aforementioned vampire moving a test tube from its rack.

"Fenn?" She asked again as she slowly opened the door and poked her head in.

Fennorian had his back to the entrance, arm raised as he held a tiny glass tube up by a hanging lamp. The candlelight revealed a thick, viscous looking fluid with a bright red hue.

Not blood, but a prototype for the Harrowstorm elixir.

"Ah, my friend. Good to see you," he responded, clearly distracted and not completely aware. He placed the test tube back in its slot and plucked some snowberries from a nearby bowl, extracting a few seeds in a practiced motion. The seeds disappeared into the elixir.

"...How long have you been down here?" The Vestige asked as she walked in, very worried and surprised at what she was seeing;

His normally neat and organized workspace was cluttered. Various jars were opened on the shelves, in various stages of being emptied. Lids were strewn about. Papers with notes and sketches and diagrams were scattered about the desks. If one tilted their head and squinted, they would notice slight stains of various colors on his fingers and gloves.

"A few days." He leaned over his most recent notebook and scribbled something down. "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough."

"I've... never seen you this... well. Focused. When did you last feed?" She quickly stepped out of his way as he bustled to another shelf of reagents.

"I have my flask. And an extra, just in case. I'm rationing."

In Fennorian's defense, he did look like he had recently consumed. That did not excuse the fact he clearly hadn't left the laboratory in some time. The Vestige knew the vampire alchemist had a tendency to get tunnel vision when he was focused on his work, but this was bad even for him. What in the world had gotten into him?

"You've obviously been busy."

Fenn nodded, straightening up and turning to the alchemy table. He wordlessly picked up a beaker with a clear liquid inside and poured it into one of the tubes with the red fluid. Almost immediately there was a small plume of colored smoke and a pungent, musky smell, like the local badgers when they marked their territory on the trees. Fenn made a noise.

"No. No, that didn't work," he reached for the quill and ink pot.

"Okay, no." The Vestige interrupted him. "This has gone on too long. You need to take a break."

The alchemist shook his head vigorously. "I am sorry, my friend. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I'm quite alright."

For a split second he almost sounded convincing.

"Fenn, please," the worry evident in her voice. "You're going to wear yourself out. You need to come up for air eventually."

Fennorian returned to his previous location, where his back was turned to her. "I know you're worried, Vestige. But like I said-" he picked up a cylindrical beaker, "-this elixir has to be perfect or-"

"Fennorian Ravenwatch."

He froze. The room filled with a stunned silence. He had never heard her use that tone of voice with him before. Nor had she used his full name before. At least when addressing him. He blinked.

The quiet was broken by the Vestige sighing and walking over to him. "Look... I know this is important to you. Believe me, it's important to me as well," her voice gentle and patient. "But you need to take care of yourself."

He felt her hand on his shoulder. He had to fight the urge to bring his own hand up and hold hers. Instead he gripped the edge of the desk and the beaker still in his other hand.

The Vestige leaned over to look at him. His hair was hiding his face, some plastered to his forehead with tense sweat. Fennorian was very relieved at that moment she couldn't see his eyes. He didn't want her to see him like this. See that she was right. And that it took her raising her voice for him to realize it.

She gently took the glass from his hand and set it on the table, replacing it with her hand. In the same soft voice, she said "I can't make you leave, of course. But, whenever you're ready to take a break and rest, I'll be upstairs." She squeezed his hand, then turned around to leave him to his work.

"...Come here."

The Vestige jumped a little as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and gently lift her up. She turned her head and locked eyes with Fennorian.

"Fenn, what-"

"Just. Stay here for a bit. I'm almost finished with this page. After that, I'll take a break."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Promise?"

He walked back over, her still in his arms, and set her down on the desk, just to the side of his papers. "I promise."

And true to his word, he finished his writing much quicker than she thought he would. In between quill strokes, she would lean over and place soft kisses on his temple. With each peck he visibly relaxed more and more. Before they knew it, he was closing his book and tying the cord around it. The Vestige hopped off the desk and lead him out of the laboratory, the two hand in hand.

~*~

Fennorian stared up at the Vestige, a tired smile on his face as he rested his head in her lap. She looked down at him, also smiling while her fingers worked slow circles into the sides of his head. Their bed was a very welcome reprieve after days in the laboratory.

He adjusted himself and folded his hands across his chest, using her legs as arm rests. She asked if he was comfortable, to which he responded with a nod. With a slight smirk, the Vestige brought her pointer finger to her lips, made a little kissing noise, and pressed her finger to his forehead in a "boop". Fenn laughed.

That laugh was the best thing the Vestige had heard all week.

[nekocat44]

I have spent the better part of today trying to decipher a book about Russian Lace (which I have never made) which I believe to be written in Dutch (a language I do not understand). however I have had significant breakthrough and am very proud of myself. I still need to figure out exactly what it means by "edge stitch" and "mesh stitch" and threads etc but I am so incredibly happy.

If anyone is familiar with Russian Lace and/or Dutch terminology any help would be greatly appreciated. Here is the book I'm deciphering:

I honestly love this book so much (I have no idea where I got it tbh lolol) but it gives exact thread lengths for all the bobbins in what colors and what order which feels much more thought out than patterns I've worked with before

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Erin's Crew

Breakthrough

About an hour had passed when Peter came into the bedroom. He saw Chloe typing furiously on the keyboard of her laptop, highly concentrated. He then slowly sat down next to her. “Am I disturbing you?”/ “No…” Her eyes moved from left to right, from top to bottom across the screen at lightning speed. “You seem to have had a good conversation with the colonel, didn't you?”.

“Mhm…”. It wasn't easy to dissuade her from her task. Nor did he want to. He enjoyed watching her perform a task with great concentration. Then she began to breathe a little faster. “In a moment, in a moment… HA, I'm in!"/ ‘Where?’/ ‘In the security system of a certain communication satellite,’ she said loudly and with joy.

“Can I look over your shoulder?”. She looked at him for a moment, smiled broadly and then nodded. When he looked at the screen, everything looked very strange to him: flickering diagrams, different scales and lots of letters and numbers that seemed to be jumbled up. But Chloe knew her way around and knew what she was doing. “What are you doing exactly?"/ ”I'm trying to trace the frequency. This satellite has recorded all the data and communication transfer.

“Can you see or hear what was said there?"/ ”No, I can't get that far in, but what I can see is enough. Now just this one more code and we're… oh, okay, I didn't expect that,” she said in amazement. “What do you mean?"/ ‘I thought I might end up somewhere in Antarctica or somewhere even more remote…’/ ”But? Hey, don't keep me in suspense any longer, haha!"/ ‘the contact is in… Hidden Springs?!’.

“Hidden Springs? Hm, isn't that a quiet spa town?"/ ”Yes, that's right. But… I can well imagine that people have also settled there who perhaps don't want to stand out. And believe me, people like that are usually really bad! I'll let her know. Are you coming?"/ ‘I need to talk to her anyway, sure’. Chloe briefly held out her hand to help him up. Then she put her laptop back in the cupboard and they both made their way to Erin.

Chloe knew she had to get her information to Erin as soon as possible. They met her in the kitchen. And she saw Chloe's excited face. “What?… Did you…"/ ”Mhm, it's Hidden Springs! They communicated with Mr. Alto from there. The time period also matches…” Erin looked at her almost fixedly and gasped. “And only from there?"/ ”mhm, yes”.

“And… were you able to locate more precisely from where in Hidden Springs?"/ ”Well, according to the satellite images I could see of the town, the signal was coming from a relatively large private house, not a public building. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out the address”. Erin took a deep breath. “OK, please send me the pictures, I'll find out the rest. And you, Mr. Lee, what were you able to find out?”.

Chloe urgently needed to go to the toilet. Meanwhile, Peter spoke to Erin: “I've called the administration in a few towns directly and asked what the situation is with space for new immigrants. I haven't gotten very far yet, but Evansdale County, Meadow Glenn and Anne Arbor still have a lot of space available for immigrants.”.

Erin's got a satisfied smile on her face. “Wow, that's a lot, Mr. Lee, good work. Isn't there even a university in Anne Arbor?"/ ”Yes, a very good one. And it offers all sorts of different courses. I thought about going there at the time, but I was more interested in joining the military"/ ”hnhn, I see. That would of course be a good new opportunity for the young people. Thank you, Mr. Lee”.

Erin went back to her office and waited for Chloe to send her the satellite images. “Come on… Oh, there they are. She took several pictures, of the surrounding area… That's the house? I thought it was bigger. And she couldn't find the address? Okay, maybe I can work it out…”.

Erin was a little surprised that Chloe couldn't find out the address. It was quite a simple procedure to find out. “I think she got quite excited and couldn't think properly. She's already helped me quite a bit… I just need to compare the satellite images with a map of the city. The street runs here… OK, that's the house. But who the hell lives there?”.

At first, Erin had no idea how best to find out who lived in this house in Hidden Springs. But then she remembered that she knew a former comrade who lived there. She searched for the contact on her smartphone and finally found her. “I hope the number is still up to date…”. She stood up and took a few steps through her office while she dialed the number.

It rang, three times, four times, then the call was answered. “Yes please?"/ ‘Yes hi, um, Jenny?’/ ‘Yes? Who is this?’/ ”Oh good, this is Erin Kennedy, remember me? “. There was silence on the other end for a moment… “My God, Erin! Yes, of course I remember! You're alive?”

“Yes, I'm alive."/ ”Wow, but how? I thought you were… Well"/ ”No, I wasn't even in town at the time… But that's not the point now. Listen, it would be nice if you could find something out for me, you're still living in Hidden Springs, right?"/ ‘Yeah, and still with my roommate Blake, why, what's going on?’.

“I need information from you about a certain house there…"/ ‘OK, which one?’/ ”Hold on, I'll send you a picture and the address. Maybe you can tell me who lives there?”. After Erin had sent her the things, it took a moment for the woman on the other end to say something again. “uff, I don't know now, I'd have to find out or drive by"/ ‘O.K., but be careful’.

“Why should I be careful?"/ ”Because… Oh, you don't know what kind of people you'll suddenly run into. And please don't ring the doorbell, I just want to know who lives there…"/ ”And then? What good does that do you? Do you have a special assignment?"/ ”Yes, something like that. I'd like to talk to you about it, but not until I've finished everything. Please…"/ ”All right… I'll do it. I'll get back to you in an hour”. After hanging up, Erin rubbed her hands nervously. “hu, we're so close now… please”.

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@greenplumbboblover ⭐