#but we'll be opening that link Live when it drops!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I remember you stating that you were gonna try and stream for when the website updates! We're you gonna stream as soon as it does or are you gonna set a time for it?? I wanna be able to try and join!

it'll be a When It Drops kinda thing! i'm not patient enough to wait!

[canmom]

Animation Night 189: Nonphotorealistic

There is a funny trend in animation-related terminology to define things by what they aren't. Animation is any technique for creating film that isn't live action. Limited animation is any style of 2D animation that doesn't follow the conventions of Disney's 'full animation' on 1s and 2s - a category that includes a wildly diverse range of approaches and techniques, as this wonderful history by Animation Obsessive describes.

In 3DCG circles, there is a similar term: nonphotorealistic. Which describes, naturally, anything that isn't trying to look like a photograph of a real scene. There has been a real boom in this of late, and just like the other terms, it really doesn't narrow it down very much. Other terms like 'hybrid animation' add a bit more hints.

Of course, if you've been anywhere near animation in the last few years, you'll probably know another term: 'Spiderverse style'.

There is no denying that Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (2018) by Sony Pictures Animation was an absolute landmark for animation. (I wrote about it way back on AN21, focusing more on the cultural angle.) The ludicrously stylish film pretty much set the direction for animation in the 2020s - making a bunch of money and awards and thus finally throwing open the door to 3DCG animation that doesn't look like the style set by Pixar/Dreamworks in the 2000s. Its sequel, Across the Spiderverse (2023), was even more ambitious and successful (despite a troubled production involving a lot of needless crunch). We'll be showing that soon in a Spiderverse double bill so look forward to it!

So perhaps not surprising that when people see the use of graphical styles, 2D elements, limited framerates and the like in 3DCG these days, Spiderverse comes to mind. In its wake have come various films and series that apply these and related techniques: 3DCG animation is more varied than ever, and it's cool.

It isn't really a style, tho.

Here I'm indebted to youtuber Camwing who has made a nice video overview breaking down the animation of recent movies in this vaguely defined paradigm. Among them we have The Mitchells vs the Machines (2021, also Sony), Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022, Dreamworks), and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem (2023, animated at the French/Canadian studio Mikros animation), and of course over on Netflix you got the wildly popular League of Legends spinoff series Arcane (2021, Fortiche Productions), and the romance film Entergalactic (2022, DNEG), tying in with an album of the same name.

None of these films has exactly the same style, but they all pull from a related bag of tricks. The core techniques are animating on reduced framerates for a 'snappy', high-clarity feeling, the combination of 2D and 3D elements in some fashion, and taking inspiration from traditional media such as paintings or comic books.

For example, Arcane and Entergalactic both use the trick of 2D backgrounds/projecting paintings onto 3D geometry, inhabited by 3D characters with a stylised shader. Arcane is dripping with 2D visual effects. Puss in Boots drops the framerate during its action scenes - the opposite of the old paradigm of full animation, where fast actions would get more frames. Spiderverse draws 2D expressions onto its 3D models to push them further, and is full of all kinds of colourful stylised rendering - screentone effects, kirby dots, outlines, the works.

It's tempting to link this to 2D-in-3D animation, and certainly many of these films apply this technique - this is the major niche where Blender has found its way into industry pipelines. But using 2D isn't mandatory to count here. For example, TMNT Mutant Mayhem has an incredibly striking storybook-painting style, accomplished largely by clever shader work and a strong sense of graphic design. Genndy Tartakovsky's canned 2014 Popeye project was planning to use a ton of 2D-style posing and squash-and-stretch, accomplished largely with rigged 3D models. There are many paths to take!

And mind you, I haven't even covered one of the biggest angles here. Search for nonphotorealistic 3DCG on Youtube and what you'll probably find most is information about cel-shading - aka 'anime style'. This has also advanced considerably in the last few years, with the techniques pioneered by Arc System Works in Guilty Gear such as editing the normals of characters for more precise control over shading, and minute adjustments to break up the mechanical feeling of 3D, becoming widely copied in both games and films. (And particularly, animated porn.)

Vtubers in particular have really run with this technique, generally speaking using cel-shaded models with edited normals, inverted eyes, etc. etc. to try and get the feeling of an anime character come to life. [You can see a lot of these state of the art techniques if you download Pixiv's free VRoid Studio software and import the model into Blender using the VRM plugin.]

Naturally this kind of cel-shaded approach has found a particular home in Japan. In anime, the biggest champions of it are certainly Studio Orange, whose hybrid approach involves planning out shots with 2D animation before matching them with the rigs. We've covered their adaptation of Houseki no Kuni in great detail on Animation Night 97; their Trigun reboot was perhaps even more popular. But cel-shaded techniques, 3D previs and the like have also made their way into big films like Eva 3.0+1.0 (AN66).

Although this type of rendering aims to recreate the look and feel of 2D animation as much as possible, it always ends up being something new: character models that would be too complex to draw, an ease to 3D movements and camerawork that would be challenging in 2D, and generally a new hybrid style. This is good! 2D animation is already very good at being 2D animation - it's fascinating to see what 3DCG becomes with that inspiration.

So with that brief overview, where does that take us tonight?

I'm not quite ready to do a Spiderverse double bill tonight, so instead the plan is to check out a couple of recent American franchise films that are taking on the new suite of techniques. I've mentioned them up above, but let me introduce them more fully here.

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish is a sequel to a fairly unpopular spinoff about a side character of the Shrek franchise (AN75). Not, on its face, very promising - which is why it is all the more striking that I was told on all sorts of sides that I must watch this movie. I'm finally going to make good on that.

The title character is a kind of feline musketeer type, now facing the end of his swashbuckling career as he's lost 8 of his 9 lives. Not wanting to hang up his hat, he goes on a quest to restore them. What makes it stand out its the action scenes, which go all in on the anime-influenced, extreme perspective and lighting, limited framerate style that we're discussing above. Apparently it looks sick as shit.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem is a fresh reboot of the venerable TMNT franchise, which pretty much describes itself in the title: four turtles (named after Renaissance painters, of course!) live in a sewer as ninjas, led by their aging master who is a rat. Starting as a comic book, it became one of the iconic toyline-driven TV shows of the 80s - but it's still going! Indeed, Turtles has been on a roll of late (at least going by animator scuttlebutt), with Australian studio Flying Bark Productions turning a lot of heads with their neo-Kanada School style (and for really stretching the definition of 'storyboard').

This new film takes a different approach to the bombastic action of Rise. It focuses on a new origin story for the turtles, telling a kind of coming of age story - but what makes it unique is the animation style and cinematography. Cinéma vérité is not a phrase you really expect to be associated with ninja turtles, but the film seems to really go all out in a way you wouldn't really expect from a franchise movie, shooting the young turtles in a handheld style and focus heavily on character. Marcel Reinhard's shader work, allowing the animators to isolate lights to specific objects and characters and introducing graphical elements of cross-hatching, stippling, etc. etc. to the lighting, gives it a uniquely painting-like feeling, augmented by a lot of 2D creativity in lighting and effects.

Turtles has never really been my thing, but this film looks unique enough that I really want to see it - and I hear it's a good film too.

So that's our bill for tonight! Puss and Turtles. Let's see what the big studios have been cooking of late...

Animation Night 189 will be starting around 10pm UK time (roughly three hours hence) and carrying on til about 2-3am same! We'll be on twitch.tv/canmom as usual. Hope to see you there!

[dominimoonbeam]

Audio Script - A4A Car Crash Meet Cute

If we're not in peril, are we even trying to fall in love? I wrote this a while ago and would love to put it out there for audio artist to pick up if they're interested but I'm not really sure how to go about that, so we'll start here! <3

You're welcome to record this script but please give me credit and a link so I can listen too! And, you know, don't put it behind a paywall. But if you want to pay me to make you your own scripts, you're welcome to contact me. <3 <3

Audio artists be warned, I seem to make a lot of background sound notes. Good luck, brave creators! I believe in your sound magic! tags: car accident, minor injury, definitely could have died, meet cute in peril, older siblings friend

Car Crash Meet Cute

[cracking trees]

[muffled radio glitching]

[muffled engine running]

[rain patter]

[all sounds waving in and out before focusing]

[creaking trees as the car slides a little more]

[voice muffled from outside the door] Hey! Hey, can you hear me?

Are you awake? Can you hear me?

Don’t move! You’re going to be okay.

Hang on, I’m going to open the door slowly…

[door creaking open, wet forest sounds]

[breathing hard] Hang on, okay? Don’t move until I figure out… Shit…

Hm? No, I wasn’t in the car that hit you, but I saw it… When you went off the road and into the trees, I thought… Well, I thought you’d gone right off the mountain.

No, you’re not going off the edge. I’m getting you out, okay? It looks like these trees are holding the weight of the car but…

[creaking/snapping trees, radio cuts out]

I don’t think we can wait for help…

[creaking trees]

I’m going to reach in and undo your seatbelt, okay? I don’t want you to move yet.

[breathing close]

[seatbelt click]

[car groan]

[still close] Okay, I’m going to count to three and you’re going to hug me.

[laughs a little] Yeah, I climbed all the way down here just to trick you into hugging me. I’m going to count to three and then I’m pulling you out of the car, okay?

[car groan and trees crack]

Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay.

One.

Two.

Three. [sharp inhale, pulling listener out of the wreck and falling to the side]

[tree snapping and car rolling off a cliff]

[heavy breathing, rain patter]

Are you okay? Yeah? [smiling]

Does anything feel broken?

That’s good. You’ve got a cut on your head there, but you look okay. Can you wiggle your arms?

And your feet?

Great. Can you stand?

Take it slow, I’ve got you. We’re not in a hurry anymore.

Don’t-Don’t look off the drop… [worried, listener realizing they almost died] Yeah, if you’d gone over… But you didn’t. You’re okay.

Hey. Look at me.

You’re okay.

Do you want… Is it okay if I hug you?

Yeah? Okay. [hugs] Deep breaths. You’re going to have a great story to tell when you get home tonight.

[laughs a little] Yeah, I’ll give you a ride. I’m not going to run all the way down here to pull you out of a car just to leave you by the side of the road when we climb back out.

Do you feel up to walking? Okay, but if anything starts hurting or you feel sick, let me know, okay? We’ll stop.

Yeah, I called for help on my way down but I lost connection and we’re almost at the top of the pass, I don’t know how long it’ll take for someone to get out here. When we get closer to the road, I can call again and find out, but you’re going to get cold if we wait around down here for help.

[laughs] Okay, you got me, I’ll get cold too.

[walking, foliage rustling and rain drops] Just straight up this way. Your car cleared us a path.

Saved you? No. I did what anyone would have done.

Okay, yeah, anyone but that asshole that knocked you off the road and then kept going…

No, I didn’t get the license plate, but I got the make and model. We’ll file reports when we get to the road. Don’t worry.

So, where were you headed?

Really? Looks like we live in the same town.

All your life?

Oh no… That means we have to know some of the same people. What was our name?

[laughs] Are you related to Alex? No! The notorious baby sibling?

Oh, you are definitely notorious… I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. I mean, you’ve grown a lot. I think the last time I saw you, you were a freshman in high school.

Alex was painfully clear about none of us being allowed to even talk about you, let alone look at you. One of our friends said he thought he saw you at a café once and Alex sprayed him with a can of beer and kicked him out of the apartment for a week.

It doesn’t matter that it’s been years since high school. Alex is weirdly private about family stuff and super protective about you.

You really didn’t know?

But you knew about that bully you had freshman year, right? Yeah, that junior that kept pulling your hair and pushing you…

You thought he just stopped one day on his own?

Well, yeah, he apologized… After we threw him in the pool. Alex went on a fucking rampage that year to make sure everyone knew to leave you alone after we graduated out. You seriously didn’t know?

[laughs] That’s hilarious.

I wonder how much trouble I’ll get in for this… I mean, I am saving your life—

[half-joking] Oh, yeah, when I tell Alex this story, I’m definitely saying that I saved your life. Imminent peril. If I didn’t touch you, you would have died. That’s the only way I’m going to survive this too.

[losing their smile] Hey… Are you okay?

You’re shaking. The adrenaline is probably wearing off… Here, [clothing rustle] take my jacket.

You’re limping… Does your leg hurt?

Stop for a second. Let me get a look. I’m gonna touch your leg, okay? Tell me where it hurts.

[sympathetic hiss] Okay. I don’t think it’s broken…

No, you probably shouldn’t keep walking on it. We’re not too far from the road. How about I give you a piggyback?

[laughs a little] Yes, Alex will be pissed, but we’re way past that. I hugged you. I might be executed for my crimes.

What? [laughs harder] No, you’re not too heavy. Oh my god, come here.

[picks them up and starts walking again]

[far off siren]

Huh, looks like I don’t have to call again.

We’re almost there, hang on.

[smiling] You want my number? Oh man… you’re going to hate when I remind you about this but… you don’t seem to have your phone on you so I’m pretty sure it’s—

Yeah. With the car. Gone. Definitely gone.

[sirens closer, rain patter on the road] We made it.

No, I’m not going to leave you here to wait for the emergency crew.

Come on, you can sit in my car and warm up. We’ll wait together and I can drive you to the hospital when we’re cleared to go. [car door]

You are definitely going to the hospital. You drove off the side of a mountain…

No, it’s no trouble. There’s nowhere else I need to be.

[laughs] No, it’s not because Alex would be angry if I left you here. I’d rather wait with you and, honestly, I’d like to drive back with you.

[turning on the heater, low music]

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Dick & Rachel and the Invisible String theory (part 1)

Well, I finally gave in and decided to write it all down. How can I not when the show is basically slapping me in the face with it? It's all right there, if you're only willing to look. I've been dropping the phrase invisible string in relation to these two here and there for a while now and it's time to give it some more sense.

And yes, I am well aware this might be a stretch - it's Titans, nothing is ever intentionally that deep. But if there's one thing that show ever did right, it's this relationship, from the pilot to the end. So it's worth looking into it for me even if it's only my delusion speaking and it's not officially a thing.

So what is the Invisible String in this case? It's a connection, most likely supernatural, linking these two characters together and tethering them to each other in a way that is unexplainable by either logic or feelings. It plays into the definition of soulmates, though in this particular case other things like fate or magical powers might be connected. It's a bond made of love, fueled by love, but not responsible for it - the characters' feelings feed into it and strengthen it but they are their own and aren't affected by the existence nor strength of the bond. After all, even with the connection already in place, Dick and Rachel could have met and ended up hating each other.

Which means that not every scene they share will end up on this list I've put up here. Most of the time, the characters' actions are driven by their feelings, and the circumstances surrounding the scene are easily explainable. But sometimes, something strange happens and no matter how you look at it, you can't figure out how it happened without the so-called "higher power" at play.

(the higher power in question is most likely my delusion but fuck it we ball)

So where does it start? Obviously, in the pilot episode.

The dream that had started it all. The show is opened by it, it sucks you right in. This is where the String is born. Rachel walks right into Dick's memory of his parents' death and lives through it with him, even though she has no idea about it at the time. The dream we see in the pilot is also not the first time she has it; when she wakes up screaming and her mother comes in to comfort her, Rachel tells her what happened in half-sentences and broken words, not bothering to explain further and Melissa's look of understanding tells us that she already knows the story. The most important detail proving the connection's existence here is in Rachel's words.

"He was so scared. I felt it."

Somehow, thanks to her still developing powers, she was able to feel what he was feeling in that moment, proving that she is indeed inside his memory. Rachel didn't sense Mary's or John's emotions - only Dick's. Because they are gone and he's still alive so the memory is still alive as well.

The only thing the show had never bothered to explain here is the why. Why him? Why this? It feels a little random at the surface level, dreaming about a memory of some stranger you've never met. Even if we're talking about fate, about destiny bringing them together, the question still stands. Why Dick? Why didn't Rachel dream about the moment Gar became a metahuman? Or the moment Kory came to Earth? That one would have made sense, since Kory had been sent with the mission to kill The Raven. Guess we'll never know.

The connection is the most visible from Rachel's end, because her powers come into play. They might even be the reason the String exists in the first place. After her mother is killed, Rachel runs to her hometown's bus station and seemingly randomly picks Detroit as her destination, unaware that this is exactly where Dick is. The String is leading her to him without her even knowing.

But we can see it working through him as well, even though he's human and doesn't have any magical abilities.

We're introduced to a detective/vigilante, who's known in his day job for helping kids. The very first scene we see him in, he's looking through a file of a physically abused child. So the situation in the pilot is not his first rodeo. He's been dealing with kids in his line of work before, troubled kids more often than not. Rescued them from sticky situations (either with or without the Robin suit), and most definitely signed off some papers and handed the kids over to social services. And he never got attached. No matter how bad the situation was. His job required him to not get involved.

But then this kid shows up, a kid who recognizes him somehow (she can sense something familiar about him the second he walks in but doesn't clock it until he tells her his name) and she knows things about him she's not supposed to know. She tells him her mom was killed and his demeanor changes from slightly hostile to compassionate immediately because it's something he can relate to. She's begging for help with eyes full of tears, so blindly trusting despite just meeting him, talking like he's her only hope and his resolve is already starting to break.

And then she takes his hand. Whether intentionally or not, she dives into his head, and her dream and his memory become one. They expand, giving Rachel further glimpses into his past. And they both feel it.

And boy, does it spook him. The weird and very conscious feeling of getting sucked into his own head, the unexplainable connection to this kid in front of him who for some reason is able to dig in his brain, a connection that only seems to be fueled by his growing concern for her and her situation. It clearly freaks him out. He's a lone wolf, he doesn't get attached. Neither his day or night job allow it. So what does he do about it? He runs.

"I can't give you the kind of help you need." But he wants to. And it scares the shit out of him because this shouldn't be happening. This should be easy. Get her statement, check it, call social workers. Sign off a few papers and be done with it. Just another kid, another file, another day at the office.

And yet he has to force himself to leave the room and not give in to her desperate begging. He goes to do what he's supposed to do, turns it into just another case.

He tries to leave it. Makes some calls, grabs his coat and heads out. Dude is already out of the building, ready to call it a day and let someone else take over but something stops him in the middle of the parking lot. A sense of duty? Strange worry twisting his gut? Instinct telling him that something isn't right? Something is pulling him back to this girl and no matter how hard he's trying, Dick can't walk away.

Because you see, the moment Rachel took his hand and they both experienced the memory at the same time, the String solidified. I visualize it in my head as two opposite ends slowly reaching toward each other and when this happens–

–the ends meet. They snap together and two separate pieces of the String become one. Only the thing is, right now it's just a thin thread. Now it's up to them to either break it or make it stronger.

(if somehow you're still reading, I assume you know what happens)

As we dive further into Season 1, there are plenty of moments along the way that show how the String strengthens with Dick and Rachel growing closer. 1x04 especially has a moment that is a definite milestone in their relationship — Dick making a conscious decision to stay and take care of Rachel, no longer afraid of the connection and responsibility. But we don't see the String at work again until episode 1x07, "Asylum".

Now, as a singular event, this next scene doesn't necessarily qualify, because it can be logically, scientifically even, explained. But it's here because it's the first of the several instances creating a pattern across all seasons: a pattern of Rachel bringing Dick back to reality from the confines of his own mind.

She seems to be the only one to have this ability to such an extent as she does, and as the seasons go, we even watch it grow in its effectiveness.

When she finds him, he's been pumped with drugs and kept trapped inside his head for an unspecified amount of time, we can assume more than an hour. He's limp, completely unresponsive and it takes her several tries to wake him up. And what does it? A reminder of what connects them, of the promise he made her, the promise that he will never leave her.

It's not that easy to notice unless you look closely but his eyes gain focus and snap to hers the second she says "You promised!" Unknowingly, Rachel tugs at the String and yanks him back with those two words — she needs him to remember, she needs him back because she's scared, and even though her own mother is standing right behind her, none of it matters because Rachel won't feel truly safe unless he's there to keep her safe — and it works because keeping that promise is a priority to him, it's what keeps him going. "Yeah, I guess I did," he says as he comes to his senses and gives a tiny reassuring smile to let her know that he remembers. And we all breathe with relief (well, I did).

Then we move to the very end of episode 1x10 "Koriand'r".

Why is Dick the only one able to cross the cloaking barrier around Angela's house? Why did he run at it at full speed, determined and so sure he'll break through even though he risked literally crashing into a wall, and went right through it with no problem, while neither Kory nor Donna couldn't? It's simple: Trigon allowed it because he knew about the String. Having similar powers to Rachel, he could sense it in his daughter and decided to use it against her. He even knew when Dick and the girls appeared in front of the barrier. Trigon recognized how important all these people are to Rachel, but there was something about this particular bond that caught his attention and made him realize Dick is the perfect pawn. If he wants to break his daughter, he first needs to break the one person she loves the most.

What deserves a special mention here is a little moment at the end of episode 1x11 "Dick Grayson" because this is the first time in the show that the word "love" is used to describe Dick and Rachel's relationship. And it comes from none other than Trigon himself.

Because you do. He knows. Despite never having met either of them before. Trigon has been back on Earth for what, an hour? And he sensed it right away.

That's it for season 1. I was originally planning to put all seasons in one post but obviously didn't consider that there is a 10 image limit and that I talk too much lol

So if you're curious for more, read part 2 and part 3 here. They will dive into how the Invisible String manifests itself in season 2, and check out part 4 for seasons 3 & 4!

[loki-cees-all]

Chapter 1 - And the Silence Splits Me Open {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}

Prologue / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Loki isn’t sure how long he’s been hiding, alone and forgotten, in this damp and squalid dungeon cell, but he’s fine with it. Really, he’s completely and 100% fine with this.

Chapter W/c : 3.1k

Chapter Tags / Content : Heavy Angst

Author's Note : Well - here goes nothing! Hopefully I can maintain a regular schedule of posting chapters on Sundays, but we'll see how it goes? Enjoy!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

For nearly every living thing, choice breeds shame, and uncertainty, and regret.

Loki had stopped counting after a thousand days.

A thousand days of darkness, and of silence. Without hearing his own voice, or gazing upon the sunlight, or any type of sustenance. It was lonely to be sure, and some might consider it an unreasonable torture, but Loki didn’t. In fact, he preferred it this way.

Because it was also another kind of milestone - a thousand days without any mistakes. Without betraying or being betrayed, without killing or contributing to the evils in the universe. It was his longest streak ever, but Loki couldn’t give himself too much credit for that; it’s quite difficult to make new mistakes when you’re too busy lamenting on your old ones.

And he had a lot of mistakes to think about.

By now, Loki had memorized the patterns of cracks in the stone walls, winding and splitting their way around the room, much like the cracks in himself. The stone offered no comfort, and neither did the iron bars that made up the only door to the cell. And with no windows to speak of, and the only light coming from poorly lit lanterns in the dungeon hallway, he had become good friends with the darkness.

The walls were broken and imperfect, but still doing their duty. Still confining him, still keeping everyone safe from him. And he was doing his part too - suffering, with nothing but the cries of anguish from the other prisoners to keep him company.

Loki’s muscles, curving and molding unwillingly against the rough stone floor, cried out in agony as he lay on his side. His cell was bleak and unforgiving and exactly what he deserved. But was it really his if whomever was running this place didn’t know he was there?

The guards hadn’t abducted him, like they did the other prisoners, and there were plenty of shadows to hide in. And with no one crying out for help or mercy or salvation, there was no reason for anyone to look inside to see him.

Lately, the prisoner population had started to dwindle - the guards were killing without replacing for some reason. The screams were starting to fade, and with no new stock brought in to replace them, Loki was growing accustomed to the ambient sounds of the dungeon.

Water seeped through the fractures in the stone and condensed along the iron bars of the door. And every falling drop punctuated another memory of another failure as it landed on the hard, cold floor. Jotunnheim. Thanos. Tesseract.

As soon as Loki had stepped through the Time Door, he could smell the snow and ice outside, in spite of the rust and decay inside. For a while he was afraid he’d somehow arrived on Jotunnheim, before he had unleashed the full power of the Bifrost on his ancestral home. Before he discovered what he truly was. Before he ruined everything.

Thor. Frigga. The Dark Elves.

But once Loki finally saw the guards running the dungeon - each one a different species he couldn’t place - he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He wasn’t anywhere he’d ever heard of before, and it was likely that no one there had ever heard of him either. Thankfully the TemPad didn’t seem to possess the same kind of irony that everything else did.

He used to watch the guards from the shadows, as they dragged screaming and struggling prisoners to their cells and subsequently away again. Loki didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. There was nothing he could do to help; in fact, he’d probably just make it worse.

Asgard. Odin. Tesseract.

Occasionally he caught himself wondering if Heimdall, or anyone else back home, could see him now. He didn’t know where or when he was, and it was possible Asgard had already been destroyed during Ragnarok. It was just as possible that everyone he’d ever known simply didn’t exist yet. The TemPad he had stolen was surely dead by now, so there was no way for him to check the sequence he had typed in at random before coming here - and that had been the point.

TVA. He Who Remains. Tesseract.

It somehow always came back to the Tesseract, didn’t it? The most cursed object in the Nine Realms, but no better than a paperweight inside the Time Variance Authority. It had yanked him to and fro, from captor to abuser and back again, uncaring and inconsiderate as it helped them chip away at his own autonomy.

If only he had known the horrors the Tesseract would lead to. If only he’d been in a place where he felt strong and secure about himself before ever coming into contact with it, then a Space Stone wouldn’t have been necessary in the first place. But at least now he could take solace in the fact that he’d never have to see or hear about it ever again.

No one would ever know he was here. The stone and iron were keeping him safe from harm and absolved of choice, but even now, Loki considered his needs secondary to the bigger picture. The dungeon was the only way to stop him from causing more destruction and chaos and death. It was the only way to stop caring.

In fact, Loki cared so little that he was still wearing the TVA uniform. It was conspicuous, but as long as he stayed in the shadows, what would be the point of using magic to change his clothes? When the clothes could serve a larger purpose - a reminder of how much he’d failed.

A thousand days inside that button-up shirt, the frayed tie, the torn pants - each one stained with sweat and grime and blood. And who knew what condition his hair was in; it had definitely grown in his isolation, down past the grooves of his hollowed out collarbones. And then one day it just…stopped growing. A side-effect of the starvation, he supposed.

Another side-effect was the absence of his magic - he couldn’t feel it in his bones, or his heart, or his mind anymore. It had been a precious gift bestowed upon him by his mother, and now it was gone. But he wasn’t worthy of it anyway, and its departure just served as another impediment should he ever get the insane notion to attempt escape.

Logically, he knew there was no good reason to try running again; all that waited for him on the outside was more disappointment and failure. Everything he’d ever done, for better and for worse, had been the very definition of futile, and this was surely better than the alternative.

The one creature comfort Loki allowed himself was a cloak that must have belonged to a previous occupant of the cell, left behind somehow as they were dragged away to their doom. The cloak was as dark as night, and heavy enough to drown out the noises of tortured souls screaming in the distance. It smelled of decay, and the hems were torn and frayed, and it was exactly what he deserved.

He had pulled it over his head, and bunched it up between his neck and the stone into a makeshift pillow. Laying on his side, facing the rear wall of the cell, Loki had settled in for a long nap, and tried not to think about the kind of cruel end that must have come for its previous owner.

Loki hadn’t moved since then - curled up into himself, unable to differentiate between the nightmares and reality. Content to wither away in solitary confinement, where no one would ever know how he met his end.

He was used to being alone, but the isolation he experienced before had always been in spite of himself. He never meant to push people away, but it somehow became a habit, and then a necessity. The only difference between then and now was that he didn’t have to concern himself over what happened to anyone else anymore.

Except that obviously wasn’t true. There was still plenty to worry about, and Loki tried so hard to convince himself that he didn’t care anymore. Thanos, He Who Remains, the TVA - there were just too many dangers on the board, and they all led back to him.

In one way or another, Loki - or another version of him - was the only common element, the single being that every evil loved to curl its heinous claws around. He was the perfect instrument for malice - inherently broken, crushed at just the right pressure, burned at just the right temperature, and malleable enough to be used for nothing good.

So it was better for all if he stayed there, hidden in that dungeon on a mysterious planet, where not even he could fall prey to the illusion of choice anymore. Loki believed this arrangement was beneficial to everyone - there was nothing here for him to ruin, there were no wrong decisions to make, and nothing real was ever at stake.

There was no reason to charm, manipulate, or lie; no one to hurt, no one to lose, and no one to disappoint. And for the most part, Loki was finally at peace.

But occasionally, during the deepest and most frightening times of introspection, Loki would feel himself starting to yearn for something more. And unfortunately, the loneliest parts of his soul could never settle on a single need.

Sometimes it was companionship - the touch of anyone that had seen the worst parts of him, and still moved closer anyway. Other times, it was just a place to belong - where no one whispered behind his back, or criticized him right to his face.

And for the most part, he longed for the opportunity to just be. To just exist as himself.

But who was he? If he stripped himself down, if he somehow shed the veils of glorious purposes that were decided for him by his previous owners, then what was left of him?

Clinging to the notion of a throne was a lie. It was a facile explanation for his actions, because it was easier to hide under the guise of vanity rather than admit he didn’t know who he was. That he didn’t have anyone in his corner. That he couldn’t come to terms with being unable to figure himself out.

And if he couldn’t do that back on Asgard, as a Prince with everything going his way and cushioned with every advantage of being the son of the Throne, then all hope for him was lost. Which was exactly why he had let go of Odin’s spear in the first place - a decision that ultimately led to all of this.

It seemed like only yesterday he was hanging off the Bifrost with his older brother. Suspended over a wormhole caused by the Bifrost’s destruction, watching in quiet resignation as his father awoke from sleep to save his favorite heir from certain death, and shattering as Odin rejected Loki for the last time. At the time, falling into a wormhole was preferable than trying to come back from that.

So much had happened since then - none of it good, and all of it Loki’s fault. He didn’t swing the hammer, but he did set those events in motion while suffering the ill effects of wanting, needing, and longing. And even though no reasonable person could have expected anyone to shake off that same look of disappointment - so visceral and palpable - on their own father’s face, Loki still believed he was to blame for it all.

He often wondered, when he was too exhausted to push it back down, how Odin’s expression that night would compare to the one he’d have now. Loki was pathetic and broken, a complete and total failure, and drowning in loneliness on the floor of a cold and dirty dungeon cell.

This was certainly no place fit for a Prince, or a King; and yet even still, maybe Odin might be proud of him for finally making the right decision. Because while a Prince or a King may not belong there - the God of Mischief certainly did. It was a fitting end for him, because there was no way he was ever going to find anything good in that dungeon, and there was no way he was ever going to leave it either.

A familiar and long-forgotten sound drifted over Loki’s eardrums, rousing him from his self-loathing - laborious footsteps shuffling against the stone, metallic keys clinking together, and a surely unconscious body dragging across the floor.

It had been ages since he heard those noises. His eyelids drifted open and blinked once, twice, three times, as he waited for his pupils to dilate. And as the dungeon guards unlocked the door to his cell, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Norns, no. Please, not another one…

Loki’s heart sank as the door swung open, creaking and groaning before crashing against the metal bars on the other side of itself. It echoed wildly throughout the chamber, and he remained frozen and unmoving as the guards dragged the stranger inside.

“Unwrap these chains. Quickly,” the higher-ranking guard ordered, his voice blunt and disdainful as he shuffled around the room. “When was the last time you rüzdæts cleaned out these cells?!”

Loki’s jaw set in place as he lay still, buried and hidden under the cloak in the shadows, even as the guard moved closer. What would he do if they discovered him now? Would he fight back, or would he just allow them to torture him too? Loki didn’t want to have to think about it.

“Are you sure we’re supposed to bring her in here?” The second guard’s voice was much more timid and unsure of himself, like it was his very first day working in a torture dungeon.

“For the last time, Orfeo - yes, this is where she’s supposed to be! Now hurry up!”

Loki could sense the guard’s trepidation even as he unshackled the newest prisoner. He’d never heard any of the guards questioning themselves before, and it was oddly unsettling.“I don’t know, this feels like…kánslha. We shouldn’t be doing this…”

The first guard, the one more sure of himself, continued snapping at the other. Telling him to just do as he was instructed, asking him if he still believed in their cause. Reminding him of what would happen should he suddenly have a change of heart.

Loki had never asked for much - just to be left alone. But it had never been given to him freely; he had to take it instead, and apparently he wasn’t allowed to even hold on to it for very long. He could feel the adrenaline start to rise in his body - his hands clenching, his muscles starting to come back to life.

There was no telling why she was supposed to be in that specific cell, or what their “cause” actually was. Loki had never paid any attention to them before; but now his curiosity was piqued, and he absolutely hated it.

Silence was worth fighting for, wasn’t it? Even if fighting meant revealing his very presence? But once he did that, once he crossed that line, he wouldn’t be able to stop until every single one of them was dead…

No. Stop. This is still suffering. Let it go…

As Loki attempted to calm himself back down, the guards finally took their leave, bickering and arguing as they relocked the door and their footsteps faded away. Silence descended upon him again, and Loki held his breath as he tried to listen for any signs of life coming from his new cell mate.

Her own breath was light, faint, fleeting. Loki almost felt sorry for her, much to his own chagrin. He didn’t want to care, because caring led to compassion, and empathy, and trust, and every other good feeling that inevitably led to more pain.

And maybe she deserved to be there, or maybe she didn’t. Loki couldn’t let that be his problem; not when he had enough of his own.

Even so, Loki was curious to see her - the one somehow important enough to make a guard question himself. To make Loki question himself - to make him consider disclosing his presence, even if it was just to kill every guard in that place in the name of silence.

Slowly and quietly, Loki tried to push himself upright. But his muscles, stiff and hardened from such little use, refused to cooperate. It was a struggle to move without grunting, and thus revealing, that someone else was still alive in that cell.

Finally, he managed to roll himself onto his back, landing against the floor with a groan. Loki had forgotten about the harness still strapped to his back, and his muscles screamed as they stretched around the stiff leather underneath him. He froze, biting his tongue as he waited to see if there would be a reaction from her. And when none came, he slowly turned his head to look.

A woman laid unconscious across from him on the floor. Twisted on her side, her face dirty and blood, her long and crimson hair woven into a tangled braid. Like Loki, she wore a dark cloak, and like Loki, she looked broken.

And despite the dried blood and the bruises starting to form on her skin already, she was beautiful. Even Loki couldn’t deny that. But was that enough to explain why the guards were behaving so strangely about her? No, there had to be more to it than that.

She resembled the mortals on Midgard, more so than the guards did, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was human, or that Loki had been on Midgard all along. It didn’t mean anything; it just created more questions. The intricacies of traveling through both time and space were already complicated enough, and then adding in the context of his destination being a mystery even to himself…

Just as he realized how far his mind had wandered, her fingers twitched, and his eyes snapped back into focus. The woman was starting to wake up, and he was staring right at her - exposed, and vulnerable, and wondering.

She let out a soft groan, and Loki quickly turned back onto his side, facing the rear wall again as he silently cursed to himself. None of his questions would matter in the end; even if she woke up, she was already dead.

Loki swore he wasn’t going to get involved with anyone else ever again. He was already committed to doing nothing, especially for strangers.

And he had spent the last thousand days doing nothing. How hard could another three or four be?

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Prologue / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

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[saintmeghanmarkle]

Trey and Matt please oh please! You'll never get a better story line for a South Park sequel episode than the Nigeria tour by u/Hermes_Blanket

Trey and Matt, please oh please! You'll never get a better story line for a South Park sequel episode than the Nigeria tour (I am writing "Nigeria", but Trey and Matt will change that to a fictional country name like Scameria)Opening: The South Park kids are in school. Their teacher announces that in conjunction with this week's lesson focus on Nigeria, they will watch live footage of a royal tour taking place there. A huge TV is wheeled into the classroom and switched on. Closeup of Meghan grinning like mad as she swans into the Nigerian school in her backless flesh-colored dress and huge African necklace.Kyle screams, "Noooooo! Not the dumb prince and his stupid wife AGAIN!"Stan gasps, "Hey Kyle, is she naked??!"Meghan gives a speech to the Nigerian children in their classroom. It is one long festival of word salad and concludes, "So, in closing, let me just say that I see myself in all of you. If you are authentic and organic, you can grow up to be just like me."One Nigerian girl whispers to another, "Does she mean we won't be wearing clothes?"Meghan leaves the school, and walks down the path in front shaking hands with the female staff, all of whom are wearing modest dress, head wraps, and disapproving expressions. She encounters a little girl in a white dress carrying an armful of red roses, who is being shoved toward her by a staff member. Meghan drops to her knees and bear-hugs the little girl while grinning over her shoulder toward TV cameras. When she stands up, the squashed red roses have left perfect round nipple-like stains on her flesh-colored bodice.Back at South Park, the teacher jumps in front of the TV. "We'll take a break now!"At lunch, the kids discuss the royal visit. Kyle says, "Why is she even there? She's not the princess of anything anymore. She says she's 42.35637 percent Nigerian, but she doesn't look anything like those people. And why is she hardly wearing any clothes?" Stan rolls his eyes and says, "Stop whining, Kyle. Just be happy they're not living across the street from you anymore."The kids are back in the classroom watching more footage of the visit. Meghan is wearing a long yellow gown with a big sash across it that says "BUY ARO JAM". Three kings in Nigerian tribal dress come in, kneel in front of her, and present her with a large nude gold statue of Harry, a smoking incense burner, and a box marked "MYRRH"."Why are you here?" asks Meghan."We have seen your star in the East," replies one. The camera pans to the sky, where a large golden dollar sign is shining radiantly like the sun.Another king unrolls a scroll and reads from it. "We hereby proclaim you Princess Ahmamazing Emu of Gonnachokeyou!"The third king whips out a laptop and hands it to Meghan. "Here, this is for you to write your emails about unfreezing your bank accounts. Remember, we get a 20% cut of the profits."Come on, Trey and Matt! I know you'll have us in stitches again! post link: https://ift.tt/ZMTxS15 author: Hermes_Blanket submitted: May 14, 2024 at 07:38PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[juiceboxscans]

Today is (simul)Pub day!

That's right fam! If you live in the continental United States, have the KManga app on your phone, tablet, or open the site on your computer's browser, you can rent chapters (including today's release) 99¢ US, including today's newest chapter at around 11am/noon EST today. Mangadex has, very thoughtfully, placed the link to K-Manga's site right where you can see it.

This is not the end of our involvement with the scans, just a heads up that if you want to/can support the mangaka and can't wait for us, it's SO easy! And cheap! We love scanlating, particularly now for Spanish-speakers who don't yet have access to licensed versions, but we've always been transparent about options if you have cash or access. (See our pinned post.) So if you can, do the (right.) thing.

Disclaimer: We're no angels ourselves— we started doing this because two other groups dropped when it got licensed but the licensed volumes were still way behind the Japanese and we couldn’t cope. Basically we're impatient little heathens like everyone else.

But if you're having fun hanging with us delinquents, keep your notifs on and we'll see you soon.

Thanks for reading! 。.:☆*:･'(*≧ ▽ ≦*)

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 1: the first impression matters most (Nishinoya Yuu/Reader)

Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: so this has technically been up on ao3 for a month or so but I decided I'm simply going to post it on tumblr and live with less control over the formatting over here. for a more fun way to read, I highly recommend hopping over to the ao3 link above.

EDIT 9/20: DUE TO A URL CHANGE LINKS ARE CURRENTLY BROKEN. FOR EASE OF READING PLEASE PROCEED TO AO3. I HAVE NINETY FOUR FIC LINKS TO UPDATE SO IDK WHEN THIS WILL BE FIXED BUT SOON.

taglist is open!

Summary: Love at first sight isn't real. Whatever this Nishinoya guy was feeling when he proposed to you on sight, it wasn't love. And if you're wrong? All he has to do is propose another nine hundred and ninety-nine times to prove it. (nishinoya x fem!reader)

Warnings and Tags: fem, non gender-neutral reader, mental health + family issues, implied child neglect, hurt/comfort, coming of age, slow burn but like in a weird nontraditional way, gratuitous usage of footnotes

Word count: ~2800

p1. Love is real.

This one's simple enough. You grew up around your parents—hopelessly in love with one another, the romantic types put on this planet specifically to make their kids' life hell in a non-traumatizing, wholesome way, all sweet kisses and gross, get a room! to fill your childhood home. You've seen love. During at least one point of your life, there was love.

p2. Love takes work.

Also simple enough. Again we'll point to your parents—long nights worked by one or the other, working too hard, coming home to find you asleep on the couch with whichever parent was home for you. Bruised egos and hearts, fights that didn't need to happen but always would have, heated discussions whispered in the kitchen when you should have been in bed, but always always always coming back to each other. Separating from one another whenever there was yelling—keep the peace, come back when we can have a discussion. Trying to love you even when your grades fell too hard to overlook, but disappointed all the same, until you're yelling, until you don't fall asleep on the couch waiting for your mom to come home anymore, until you fall asleep studying at your desk listening out for your father, hoping tonight he'll be home before you finish your homework.

p3. Love must be earned.

—or at least, it can be lost. It'd explain the past two years. You lost his love, and you'll earn it back.

p4. If love must be earned and love takes work, then love at first sight does not exist.

Of course, none of this explains anything about what's taking place now, your utterly petrified classmate (one Yachi Hitoka, sits two seats in front of you, never interacted with) darting her eyes back and forth between you and the offender who could perhaps use a reality check against your worldview. For your part, the—question? demand? statement?—had the fun side effect of pitching your voice in embarrassment and disbelief, not to mention totally ruining the vaguely detached image of yourself you've very carefully cultivated over the years.

"I—uh—I'm sorry, what did you just say to me?"

p5. Love at first sight does not exist.

Although the other members of the Karasuno High School Volleyball Club wear expressions currently ranging from disbelief to exasperation, you're not entirely convinced you've heard the offender correctly until he steps forward, chest puffed out without a hint of self-doubt in his eyes.

Point of interest: as far as you were aware, volleyball is a sport about really tall guys yelling a lot and hitting a ball just real hard, and this one doesn't seem to have the height or the shoulder muscles for that. If your first impression is anything to go by, at least he has the volume. He's got a small build—lithe, even, and it's hard to tell with most of his teammates dropping their heads into their hands, but you'd say nearly everyone else here is a good head taller than him at least. It'd explain the hair: save for a little bleached tuft hanging down over his forehead, he's gone to the trouble to spike it, adding a few centimeters to his height total. All in all: confusing, but not unattractive.

c. Therefore, this is not love at first sight.

"Sorry," he says, tilting his head with a wide smile that doesn't look very sorry. "That might've been a bit rude. Please marry me?"

Yeah, that's what you'd thought he'd said, alright.

Shimizu, the gorgeous third-year who'd brought you into this line of fire, lets out a long-suffering sigh. One of the other guys is now on the floor, both hands threaded through his hair.

Point of disinterest: this behavior is clearly the offender's usual.

"Are you stupid or something?" the silver-haired guy on the floor finally manages to say, stage-whispering in utter disbelief. "Seriously, are you just a complete—"

Impulse: Have fun with this.

It's not that you really intended to cut the guy off—honestly, for all you care, he can yell at his teammate or anyone else all he wants. Hardly your problem. But—

I mean, how are you not supposed to laugh?

This is who you are: logic and impulse at war. Doubled over laughter, immediate stock taken of the situation, and, just because you appreciate his initiative, you let yourself speak without thinking too hard about it, full-body laughter subsiding to giggles as you meet his eyes. "You know what? How about you let me finish introducing myself and ask me that… oh, I dunno, we'll say a thousand times or so, and then I'll think about it. 'Kay?"

The offender—your suitor, you suppose—gains an extra centimeter of height at the words, eyes lighting up his face in a way that might actually be dangerous to someone with a few less brain cells to spare. He looks ready to say something, but stops himself. Nods firmly, mimes zipping his lips as though to let you know you can continue.

You stifle a lingering giggle, take a deep breath, and smooth out your uniform skirt carefully. You know how to smile and know how to charm and now you've got a reason to be just interested enough to bother with either. "O-kay. Um, I'm [full name]. Like Yachi-san here, I'm in class 1-5. It's a pleasure to meet all of you!"

"Nice to meet you!" they shout in eerie, overly-loud unison, bowing to the both of you. Beside you, Yachi nearly shrieks, hiding behind you a little as Shimizu steps forward to ask them not to scare the shit out of you both. To their credit, everyone seems genuinely confused as to what could possibly be startling about suddenly being yelled at by twelve or so guys standing around you in a semi-circle.

As for you?

You adjust your uniform bow carefully, suppressing a smile.

Maybe this "managing a club" idea won't be as bad as you thought.

~

Okay, point of order: it's not that you thought managing a club would be bad, necessarily. It's more that, well—look, pretty third-year approaches you in the hall while you're barely paying attention, assumes you're walking with some other random girl in your class, and you're looking for any excuse to stay out of the house as much as you can, anyway, so why not waste a few minutes this afternoon and some more tomorrow? It's not like you're agreeing fully to join or anything. And Yachi, at least, seems nice, though you're a little sorry she's been lumped with you.

You'd decided to make it up to her with a tepid offer of friendship, if for no reason other than to reassure her you don't want her dead (which appears to be a serious concern of hers?), but in the three minutes it took you to draw this conclusion and walk up to her desk, you'd been absolutely steamrolled by two of the club's first years from yesterday (Hinata: short, loud, springy, insists that you drop all honorifics for him. Kageyama: tall, quiet, blunt. Appears to just be along for the ride.) and somehow ended up jointly tutoring the two in English.

The days that follow give you no opportunities to learn any further names—your attention splits neatly between trying to figure out how volleyball even works and not fucking dying whenever a hit or whatever goes out-of-bounds. You'd been right about the yelling, mostly right about hitting the ball really hard (the really tall first-year sometimes hits the ball Not Hard, and your suitor doesn't seem to hit the ball at all?), and wrong about the guys needing to be tall (Hinata, for one, and most of the other guys are only tall in direct contrast to you).

That's about the extent of what you've gotten so far, beyond a bruise or two in preventing Yachi's soul from leaving her body. The guys seem to want to prevent those, but they're certainly not perfect. As for your co-trial manager, she is the very definition of skittish, and thus far has confided in you the following:

someone may want to kill her for standing next to Shimizu for several uninterrupted minutes (fair, Shimizu is extremely pretty)

the coach is going to kill her (maybe a bit narrow-minded—the Sakanoshita cashier is plenty nice, even if he does look a bit scary)

someone here is going to break a finger or perhaps an arm (yeah, no way to counter that one. It's athletics.)

someone here is going to unintentionally break her face with a stray volleyball (perfectly reasonable. You keep an eye out on her behalf.)

Despite this, she connects to the others far better than you ever could. When Hinata's study session with the three of you results in a boosted quiz score, he notices her before you and drags her into the hype session, allowing you to sneak on by while they cheer together. That's fine. You can't really match their energy, anyhow. Every now and then, though, she gets this look or makes some offhanded comment that makes you think she probably won't stick with managing.

For your part, you aren't really decided either way. The Karasuno High School Volleyball Club is full of… well, people. They're all different, you can't keep anyone straight, and while they're certainly polite enough in small doses, as a group, they overwhelm you with an energy that reminds you why you've never really gotten into sports before.

Your suitor is perhaps the worst offender of this—everyone gets louder around him, either out of necessity to be heard or simply because he seems to raise the energy levels of whoever's standing closest to him. He seems to be the root of about thirty percent of the volleyball club's total volume, and his boundless energy is extended your way whenever possible. Without fail, sometime between your feet crossing the threshold of the volleyball gym and getting your shoes on each day, he'll shout your name, followed by a full-chested compliment about how great you look today. It was unsettling for two minutes until you saw him take a flying leap at Shimizu in hopes of hugging her and end up getting slapped instead. For now, you'll take it as a relief that no additional marriage proposals have come your way.

You don't know whether to be disappointed that your suitor apparently is just your average horny teenager and you're not exactly special or relieved that, at least, you're not ugly enough for him to discredit you as an option entirely. If nothing else, it's hard to sense any sort of real threat from someone so openly and earnestly interested in anyone who breathes.

This is what you tell Shimizu as the three of you walk home after practice, the third time in a week she's apologized to you for his behavior. She's not the only one who has—the captain, a taller, average-looking third year, and the vice captain, the pretty third year with the silvery hair, have both gone out of their way to apologize on his behalf, as well as one of the more responsible-seeming second years. Each one has offered, repeatedly, that they can make him shut up if you want them to, but you've staunchly refused.

"I mean," you tell them each time, "he's harmless. All he's doing is complimenting me and like, little helpful things like helping me up. But I'll take you guys up on that if he actually crosses a line."

What you don't—won't—admit to Shimizu or Yachi, and will never admit to any of these guys, is simple enough: you like the attention. You like having a reason for your cheeks to feel a little hot. You like feeling like someone wants you here, like someone's not just being polite because they haven't yet found a reason to be rude.

The morning of the first day of your second week of this little trial membership, and like clockwork, your suitor is already in the gym, already fully awake like he actually rests when he sleeps or some completely batshit concept to that tune. It's six-something in the fucking AM. Normal people should at least be a little groggy right now, but here he is, running right up to you with a brilliant smile that makes you feel like squinting.

Then again, you suppose normal people aren't the type to propose marriage before you even get your name out.

"Good morning! You're looking lovely as usual today!"

You huff softly, open your mouth to mumble in some sleep-deprived reply, and end up cutting off in the sort of yawn that hijacks your full body to make its point. When you've recovered, you nod to him, rubbing the corner of your eye. "Sorry. I don't think I'm real for another twenty minutes or so. Mornin', Senpai."

Your suitor goes uncharacteristically still, jaw dropping as he stares at you. Suddenly self-conscious, you run through your memory of the past week. You'd assumed he was an upperclassman, not having seen him on the first-year's floor at all and having noticed that he seemed to be one of the more solid members of the team. Were you wrong? "Um… did I say something wrong?" you ask at last, hoping on hope he doesn't detect the nerves in your voice.

At your words, he seems to snap out of whatever stupor he'd suddenly gone into, shaking his head furiously. Unless you're mistaken, his face is turning a lovely shade of red, though you can't fathom why. "Uh—no! No, nothing's wrong. I mean, you didn't say anything wrong! You're—perfect, you're perfect, sorry, I—" He clears his throat, clutches a fist at his chest. You're starting to think he's having some kind of medical issue. "I'm not entirely sure you've ever done anything wrong in your life, actually."

You stifle a nervous laugh, tilt your head a little. "Um…?"

"Okay, sorry—I'm good. Perfect. Fine. Please marry me."

Ah. Alright, then.

A bit more laughter bubbles out of you, less nervous this time. "How about this: you tell me what your name is, because we still haven't been introduced properly, and ask me that nine hundred and ninety-seven more times, and I'll think about it."

The star-struck look on his face gives way to the brightest smile known to the human race. He holds out a hand for you to shake. On the record: your stomach does not flutter in reply.

"Nishinoya Yuu, at your service. Will you really marry me if I ask you a thousand times?"

You take his hand. Shake it carefully. Wonder if this is what dying feels like: no struggle, just letting happen what will happen, feeling strangely overwhelmed for no reason at all. "Hey, I said I'd think about it."

His hand's warm. It lingers in yours for just a moment before he drops the hold. "Challenge accepted, then. I hope you're ready."

You snort, wave him off as you head over to greet Shimizu. "Sure, sure. We'll see how long it takes for you to give up, yeah?"

"If that's what you're holding out for, you're gonna be waiting a while," he calls after you.

You toss your head back with a laugh. "We'll see about that!"

Koi no Yokan¹ (恋の予感): "premonition of love" or "love at second sight". in contrast to love at first sight, koi no yokan refers to the sense when meeting someone that falling in love with them is inevitable.

Footnotes

1. I spent a lot of time digging for the origin of this phrase and it appears to be attributed to a quote from one Nicola Yoon. I'm not certain that 恋の予感 is actually a Japanese concept the way that "love at first sight" is a concept in certain English-speaking cultures, and my research into this only turned up, like, BBC articles and an album by the American alternative metal band Deftones, so it's possible that this phrase is more of an Orientalist hallucination of Japanese culture more than it is a real thing.² Regardless, I truly love the concept, and I could not think of a more fitting title for this fic, so I am proceeding with the given interpretation.

2. For what it's worth, the BBC article I found does ask actual Japanese speakers about the phrase and claims it's common nowadays in shoujo manga circles. One of my good friends reads mostly shoujo manga and is more fluent in Japanese than I am, and I had to explain the concept to her, and also, no one can point me to any specific examples, so I don't really have any strong evidence that this is actually true. (Any examples of this out in the wild are more than welcome in the comments; I'm genuinely curious about this.)

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[fuck-customers]

TW: Drug Mention, Cursing

Look, if you're gonna come into the store so high you don't remember how to speak it's probably not worth your time to try and steal from the store. Like I get it right, the cost of living and needing courage blah blah blah, but we're a small business. We barely can afford to be open as it is because distributors are charging a kidney and an eyeball for us to get products in. We have a well advertised hold program where we'll set something aside for you and when you have the money it will be there for you because was get that life fucking sucks right now. Please just use that cause I'm tired of using the mom voice and banning people.

Also to the lady to who dropped her little baggie (you unfortunately know the one) and looked DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA just know we all had a good laugh and took care of it. Not that management really cares and we're not gonna rat you out cause we all have our vices, but the deer in headlights look was priceless. Next time leave your shit in the car or, even better, at home.

And to the lady who was beating down the locked door ten after close; I hope watching me leave out of the back door was as satisfying for you as it was for me. The dark store, me walking down the middle aisle in full view, the flash of light as the door opened only to leave darkness behind and you looking dumb as fuck? I've shown the replay to all my coworkers and even my boss, I want that shit played at my funeral, a qr on my headstone that links to the video.

Oh, to the guy who picked up our cute little outdoor chalkboard in broad daylight and walked off with it you got guts dude. Like damn you got some nerve taking my one joy at this job away from me. Am I gonna report you? Nah, things was cheap as shit and I'm tired of customers as it is. You do you man, I get paid to be here either way.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

Requests Status: Open

So I'm doing requests because I can and feel like it. Just a heads up that I probably won't be doing every single request that falls into my inbox, just because if I'm not inspired then the writing will come out horribly. Might also be a bit slow when it comes to doing requests since I do have a full time job.

If you have an idea that you want me to write, just drop it into the inbox! If you are requesting NSFW content though, I won't be accepting anonymous requests for it UNLESS it has a link to your side blog. I mainly just need to make sure you're 18+ requesting it, but I get the annoyance of having to use a main blog. So just @ the side blog you use for fandom stuff and we'll call it good.

I am currently only writing for the main three love interests for Love and Deepspace: Xavier, Zayne, and Rafayel.

Will Write List:

Fluff: I enjoy writing cute things so please send me some!

Smut: This will be rather limited with post sizes, but I will be writing spicy content.

Platonic: If you want a relationship to remain friendly and platonic, I am so down. It's not my favorite, but I respect it.

AU: This is more limited! I'm down with writing for AU things, however bear in mind that if I don't know the fandom, then I can't write it and will simply delete it.

Crack: I will do just about anything for a good laugh, so send in crack suggestions (it will be crack taken seriously)

Won't Write List:

Specified Kinks: Scat, Emetophilia, Vore, Cannibalism, Hardcore Kink Lifestyles, Ball Gags, Hook Suspension, Mutilation.

Mental Health Issues: I personally deal with a lot of mental health issues myself and don't want to be writing about it, as it sometimes sends me spiraling. I don't mind a character having anxiety or ADHD, but things like mentions of depression and suicide are off the table.

Serious Disabilities: I refuse to write about things that I cannot represent accurately. This includes disabilities that I don't have. I am unaware of what it would be like to be blind, deaf, mobility issues, etc. I don't want to misrepresent anyone, so I will be refraining from writing it. I do apologize for the inconvenience.

Pet Play: This one is mainly for hardcore pet play and goes into hardcore kink lifestyles. A person living in a cage, being nonverbal, and acting like an actual pet is off the table. I don't mind writing about someone being called a kitten and wearing ears and a tail, but that's about as far as I'm willing to go.

Age Play: For me there’s a big difference in calling someone “Daddy” and being a Daddy Dom. I’m cool with flirting and calling a character daddy but I don’t do age play. Infantilism or anything in that regard. I don’t care if it’s in a completely SFW situation, it makes me uncomfortable to read and write.

Ships: Not the sailing kind. If you ship certain characters together then that's chill, you do you, but I'm only writing xReader content hear.

This page is under construction. Canva is currently down so I can't make all the banners I need. This page will eventually be pretty!

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 20 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2235 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Of course, I knew Dave's reaction to seeing the album wouldn't be great, but somehow, I always ended up trying to convince myself that he would handle it more calmly. I should have known that Dave Mustaine's anger and resentment would be anything but calm.

✦ summary: After coming back to Los Angeles, Nore has to deal with Dave's reaction when he gets to know about Metallica's new album.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angry sex, (light) spanking, jealousy, angst

✦ a/n: I'm back! First of all, I would just like to say I'm really sorry it took me this long to post a new part. My life's been crazy busy and I was a bit burned out from writing, so I just had to take a break for a bit. But I took a few weeks to rest and now I'm ready to keep writing the story :) I hope you guys like this new chapter! The dynamics in Dave and Nore's relationship are starting to get a little more complicated, and we'll see how this plays out soon. Feedback is welcome! ❤

I rolled back into Los Angeles the next morning. Having a motorcycle as a birthday gift from my parents sure had its perks, like getting around town without suffering the rickety old buses. The ride from San Francisco to LA was a trek, and it got me thinking about those not-so-distant days when Cliff would cruise from San Francisco to Long Beach just to hang out with me.

Man, I was already starting to miss him.

Los Angeles was its usual chaotic self, just like I'd left it the day before. But coming back after my San Francisco escapade was a whole different deal. I couldn't help but wonder if the concert and everything that went down afterward had stirred up a whole lot more in me than I was ready to admit.

Dave wasn’t in when I got to our apartment, so I dropped my bag and the presents on the couch and hit the shower to unwind after that exhausting trip. As I was getting dressed, I heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door, letting me know he had just arrived home .

It was kind of unusual for him not to swing by and say hi right away, but it didn't take me long to figure out why. After I got dressed, I headed into the living room and there he was, looking at the new addition to my vinyl collection with a frown.

"Dave...?" I said, nervously. I wasn't entirely sure how he'd react to the sight of the new Metallica record. I probably should've thought about it before leaving it lying on the couch, but I was so beat from the trip that it didn't even cross my mind that he might not be thrilled with my gift.

He looked up at me, and I could tell he was torn between anguish and something tougher that made me swallow hard.

"I had no clue they dropped the album," he commented, expressionless. Somehow, his effort to act like it wasn't a big deal just seemed to make it worse, the tension in the room growing like a bubble about to burst.

"It was a gift," I mumbled softly. He snorted, arching an eyebrow, and I felt my face turn beet red. My voice wavered, "I didn't know they had released it either; they told me just recently. It's just that..."

"Did you know they used my music in this crap?" he growled. I blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Jump in the Fire? Metal Militia? Phantom Lord?" he snapped, shaking the vinyl's booklet in my direction, seeming on the verge of blowing a gasket. "I helped write all this shit. And they didn’t even credit me! I told them not to use my stuff. I fucking told them!" 

I opened my mouth in surprise, my heart clenching with anguish and anger. That was just wrong. Dave had confided in me how he'd asked the guys not to use any of his songs or solos. I didn't know what was worse, them ignoring his wishes or not even bothering to inform us.

"Dave, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this," I murmured, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. He looked at me, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

"It's alright," he muttered, though his voice still carried a trace of annoyance. He wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling into the curve of my neck and giving me a tight hug. "It's okay. It's not your fault if they used you to get to me."

I furrowed my brow, my body tensing at his words. I pulled away slightly, locking eyes with him.

"Dave... I don't think that's what happened."

He arched an eyebrow at my words, and I pulled back slightly when I detected a flash of hurt in his eyes, though it quickly turned into a cold, almost icy expression. It was evident that he was hurt, but it wasn't just that; having his songs used without his permission had pushed him over the edge. He was seething with anger.

"You're being too naive," he said in a low, chilling voice I hadn't heard from him before. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race uncomfortably in my chest.

"Dave, it's Cliff. He wouldn't do that..."

"They used my fucking songs!" he snarled, his voice growing louder. I took a step back, and he exhaled deeply, now visibly angry. "You're fooling yourself. Do you think they're nice guys? They didn't care about me, so why would they care about you now?"

"It's not like that..."

"Of course, it's like that," he laughed, a bitter and painful laugh that made me flinch. "You don't realize, do you? They don't think I'm good enough, but you are! I bet Cliff would be thrilled if we broke up now. Have you ever thought about that?"

“But I don’t want to break up with you,” I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. This was going much, much worse than I had expected. Of course, I knew Dave's reaction to seeing the album wouldn't be great, but somehow, I always ended up trying to convince myself that he would handle it more calmly.

I should have known that Dave Mustaine's anger and resentment would be anything but calm.

"This isn't about what you want, it's about what you do! Why did you have to bring this here?" he shouted. His voice held more distress than anger, and it pained me. Beyond the pain of our argument, I couldn't bear to see him like this and know it was my fault. I could have avoided all of this if I hadn't been blinded by my own happiness in seeing my friends again, in seeing a glimpse of the happiness we used to have together. "Why do you have to keep hanging out with them? Don't I matter to you? Don't you care about me?"

"You're getting it all wrong," my voice quivered as I fought back my tears. "You can't say these things, Dave, you're hurting me!"

"Well, what about me? Can't you see you're hurting me too?"

"I thought I told you not to make me choose."

"I'm not making you choose! "

"Yes, you are! I asked you to trust me..."

"I do trust you, damn it! I love you!"

"Then act like you love me!" I shouted. I gasped in shock as he swiftly closed the distance between us, pulling me close to his body furiously, and kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth with a fervor I'd never felt before. I moaned into his kiss, my legs going weak as I clung to his arms. His embrace tightened around my waist, his other hand gripping the base of my neck just enough to leave me breathless. 

"If you want me to prove that I love you, then I'm gonna prove it now," he growled, anger smoldering in his eyes like poison. I pulled him into another kiss, my body burning like wildfire as he undressed me and we stumbled towards the bedroom.

"Is this what you wanted all along?" I mumbled, my lingering frustration from our argument making me bolder as I hastily removed his shirt, his lips seeking mine in a desperate hunger. 

"Don't test me, Burton," he snarled. I let out a surprised gasp as he spun me around, firmly placing me on my knees at the edge of the bed. One of his arms held my waist, pressing my back against his chest, while the other hand gripped the nape of my neck, his lips and tongue aggressively exploring my soft skin.

“D… Dave…” I closed my eyes, a muffled moan escaping my lips as his hand on my waist moved down to the wetness between my legs, his fingers penetrating me without warning and curling inside me. He rumbled against my skin, holding me closer to him, his lips gliding up my neck until they reached my ear.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, a hint of concern evident in his voice despite his tension. I shook my head “no”, pressing myself against him, and he chuckled softly before pulling my waist tightly against his own, pushing my shoulder until I was on all fours on the bed. I moaned softly as he caressed my ass slowly before giving me a slap that made my skin crawl all over, pain and pleasure mixed together as tears gathered in my eyes. He grunted quietly, seeming pleased with my reaction. “Do you like that? Answer me. ”

“Y… Yeah… Ah! ” I flinched when he slapped me again, and he laughed. I felt my heart speed up when I heard him take off his pants and felt him climb onto the bed, his hands slowly caressing my waist.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, his fingers penetrating me again and moving inside me. I moaned softly, my skin still tingling with the pain of his spanking, contrasting with the increasing pleasure that the movement of his fingers made me feel.

I moaned as he pressed his cock against me, my clenched fists gripping the bed sheet tightly as he entered me slowly. Dave let out a low moan, holding my waist tightly as he began to move. I closed my eyes, reduced to a mess of muffled moans as I felt him move, pushing deeper and deeper, making my whole body shake with pleasure. Right then, I knew he was taking out all his frustration and anger on me — and I loved every second of it.

"You're mine," he rumbled, his voice low. He drew me in closer, guiding me up again as he pressed my back against his chest, still holding my waist with one hand as he thrust faster and faster inside me, his lips eagerly seeking mine. I moaned into his kiss when his tongue invaded my mouth, taking one of my hands to my clit, massaging it in circles while burying my other hand in his hair. He brought his other hand up to my face, pulling away slightly and tracing the outline of my lip with his thumb as he looked into my eyes, his lips parted and his eyes out of focus as he lost himself in pleasure. “You’re mine,” he murmured, feverishly, his hips moving faster and faster, hitting all the sweetest spots inside me. I shuddered, moaning loudly as I felt my body contract, our peaks approaching together. “You’re mine, Nore. Mine.”

“Ah… D-Dave!” I closed my eyes, letting him press me against his body as my orgasm swept through me in a shock wave that made me contract all over. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he came with me, his movements becoming sloppy as his seed filled me.

I sighed, shakily, as he pulled out of me. I laid face down on the bed, letting out a groan into the pillow. He gently pushed my hair aside, planting a soft kiss on my shoulder before settling down beside me.

"Is everything alright?" he inquired in a hushed tone while his fingers gently traced my cheek. I opened my eyes and gazed into his concerned expression, mustering a faint smile.

"Everything's fine," I mumbled, reaching my hand up to his face. He furrowed his brows, suddenly recoiling as he seized my wrist.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice tensing, his eyes locking onto my knuckles. I blinked in surprise. In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten momentarily that my hand was still a little swollen, the skin turning a soft shade of purple as the bruises from the previous day's punch began to appear.

"It wasn't a big deal, Dave," I said, and he gave me an incredulous look. I blinked, feeling my face flush. "Just some jerk who tried to hassle me after the gig yesterday. So, I gave him a punch."

"You did what?" he asked, sounding genuinely shocked. I chuckled softly, but Dave frowned, concerned, as if he didn't quite buy my reaction. "Nore, this is serious! Did he do something to you?"

"Dave, it's alright... Cliff helped me." I stretched the truth a bit. I didn't want to bring up James' help, not after Dave and I had our spat about the album. Especially not after recalling last night in the kitchen and the way James had held my hand, his eyes locking onto mine for just a fleeting moment before Leanne and Cliff interrupted us.

“You go out solo once, and this is what happens?” Dave grumbled, and I chuckled as I cradled his face in my hands. He sighed before drawing me nearer, planting a slow kiss on my lips. I sighed happily, feeling myself melt into the warmth of his kiss as I nestled in his embrace. He pulled back, gently gripping my chin. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you.”

"It's okay, Dave," I murmured, softly. "But you've got to trust me. I'm with you because I love you." 

"I know. I'm sorry," he replied, his voice gentle, burying his face in my chest and pulling me into a tight hug. "You're mine," he whispered, his arms embracing me as if he needed to reassure himself that what he said was true. "Everything's alright. You're mine."

[cdyssey]

Abbott Elementary S1-S2 Bracket

Hi all!

Welcome to the Abbott Elementary S1 and S2 Tumblr Bracket, where we’ll vote on episodes to see what the Tumblr's current favorite episode is. The thirty-five episodes are seeded based on iMDb ratings, and voting rounds will last an entire week. Since Round 1 has the most episodes of all, we’ll split that one into two weeks, so there aren’t 17 polls going on at once, lmao.

On this doc, you’ll find all the information you need to know about the rounds, as well as all the imDB scores, summaries, and original air dates of episodes! Meanwhile, this post will be continually updated with links to all the polls once they go live!

Hope you guys have fun!! Voting will officially start on 4/21/23!

- Maggie

Final Update (6/13/23): All poll data is now available! A winner has been declared.

Round 1, Pt. I:

Duration: 4/21/23 - 4/28/23

Since there is an uneven number of episodes, the highest rated episode and our #1 seed “Teacher Conference” is going to have a bye-week, which just means it’ll sit out on Round 1 until we can get the remaining choices to an even number!

"Art Teacher" (#35) vs. "Festival" (#2) → "Festival" (82%) [167 votes]

"Juice" (#34) vs. "Candy Zombies" (#3) → "Candy Zombies" (75.7%) [144 votes]

"Pilot" (#33) vs. "Work Family" (#4) → "Work Family" (74%) [123 votes]

"New Tech" (#32) vs. "Zoo Balloon" (#5) → "Zoo Balloon" (71.6%) [141 votes]

“Story Samurai” (#31) vs. “Mom” (#6) → "Mom" (81.3%) [134 votes]

“Light Bulb” (#30) vs. “Educator of the Year” (#7) → "Educator of the Year" (50.9%) [108 votes]

“Student Transfer” (#29) vs. “Valentine’s Day” (#8) → "Valentine's Day" (62.7%) [118 votes]

Round 1, Pt. 2:

Duration: 4/28/23 - 5/5/23

“Gifted Program” (#28) vs. “Holiday Hookah” (#9) → "Holiday Hookah" (83.2%) [137 votes]

“Mural Arts” (#27) vs. “Sick Day” (#10) → "Sick Day" (58.7%) [109 votes]

“Fight” (#26) vs. “Development Day” (#11) → "Development Day" (62.9%) [116 votes]

“Wishlist” (#25) vs. “Teacher Appreciation” (#12) → "Teacher Appreciation" (70.3%) [91 votes]

“Step Class” (#24) vs. “Fundraiser” (#13) → "Step Class" (62.4%) [117 votes]

“Ava vs. Superintendent” (#23) vs. “Read-a-Thon” (#14) → "Read-a-Thon" (70.9%) [103 votes]

“Principal’s Office” (#22) vs. “Desking” (#15) → "Desking" (62.8%) [121 votes]

“Attack Ad” (#21) vs. “Franklin Institute” (#16) → "Franklin Institute" (85.8%) [106 votes]

“Egg Drop” (#20) vs. “Wrong Delivery” (#17) → "Egg Drop" (68.4%) [98 votes]

“Fire” (#19) vs. “Open House” (#18) → "Fire" (71.3%) [101 votes]

Round 2:

Duration: 5/7/23 - 5/14/23

"Festival" (#2) vs. "Candy Zombies" (#3) → “Candy Zombies” (62.2%) [74 votes]

"Work Family" (#4) vs. "Zoo Balloon" (#5) → “Zoo Balloon” (58.3%) [60 votes]

"Mom" (#6) vs. "Educator of the Year" (#7) → “Mom” (69.5%) [59 votes]

"Valentine's Day" (#8) vs. "Holiday Hookah" (#9) → “Holiday Hookah” (77.8%) [63 votes]

"Sick Day" (#10) vs. "Development Day" (#11) → “Development Day” (54.3%) [70 votes]

"Teacher Appreciation" (#12) vs. "Step Class" (#24) → “Step Class” (55.6%) [63 votes]

"Read-a-Thon" (#14) vs. "Desking" (#15) → Read-a-Thon” (50.8%) [118 votes]

"Franklin Institute" (#16) vs. "Egg Drop" (#20) → “Franklin Institute” (74.3%) [74 votes]

"Teacher Conference" (#1) vs. "Fire" (#19) → “Teacher Conference” (82.9%) [35 votes]

Round 3:

A disclaimer about one of the Round 3 options: So Maggie effed up, lmao. When you have an odd number of choices for a bracket, you're supposed to give the highest ranking seeds a bye-round, which I did for the highest ranking seed! 😭 However, you're also supposed to take out as many as you need to get the first round to the closest power of two, which I didn't realize. Since Abbott has 35 episodes, for instance, the closest power of 2 would be 32, which means that three episodes needed to have a bye-week for the tournament to shake out perfectly. This means for this round, one of the polls unfortunately has a three episode option. However, after that, we'll be back on track for a smooth finish! Sorry for the mess-up!!

Duration: 5/21/23 - 5/28/23

"Candy Zombies" (#3) vs. "Zoo Balloon" (#5) → “Candy Zombies” (59.5%) [185 votes]

“Mom” (#6) vs. “Holiday Hookah” (#9) → “Holiday Hookah” (63%) [138 votes]

“Development Day” (#11) vs. “Step Class” (#24) → “Step Class” (59.4%) [69 votes]

“Read-a-Thon” (#14) vs. “Franklin Institute” (#16) vs. “Teacher Conference” (#1) → “Teacher Conference” (55.1%) [107 votes]

Round 4 [Penultimate Round]:

Duration: 5/29/23 - 6/5/23

“Candy Zombies” (#3) vs. “Holiday Hookah” (#9) → "Holiday Hookah" (#9) (65.3%) [49 votes] “Step Class” (#24) vs. “Teacher Conference” (#1) → “Teacher Conference” (67.6%) [71 votes]

Round 5 [Final Round]:

Duration: 6/5/23 - 6/12/23

“Holiday Hookah” (#9) vs. “Teacher Conference” (#1) → "Teacher Conference" (71.3%) [178 votes]

Cumulative Poll Votes:

3,447

Ultimate Winner:

"Teacher Conference"

[sonicenvy]

To new tumblr users:

please turn on custom blog theme in your settings. custom blog theme is something that is actually so wonderful about having a tumblr, and we need to show @staff how important of a feature this is to this site.

Propaganda:

Having a custom blog theme gives you a yourURL dot tumblr dot com site. Having your very own website is cool as fuck.

Having your own site makes it much easier to search and view your blog, and use tags to sort posts.

Another fun thing that you can do is create custom side pages for your blog with useful static information, like an about page or a tags page.

show off your personality and interests with a cool site. organise your posts to find them later, and to give your followers the ability to view all the posts on your blog with a specific tag, like a tag for your writing or your art. This can be done by providing a link to a specific tag that looks like this: yourURL dot tumblr dot com/tagged/myCoolTag

You can have a cool site, even if you don't know how to do web code, I promise. Here's how your turn this feature on:

go to the little person icon in your top ribbon (circled in red):

2. in the resulting pop up, scroll down to "blogs" < yourBlog (highlighted in red):

3. click on "blog settings". This will take you to a new page. (highlighted in red)

4. on this new page, scroll down to "custom theme" and flip the toggle switch to on. (circled in red)

5. now click that "edit theme" button. This will take you to a new page that will look something like this:

depending on what theme you end up using, the options in the white sidebar will be different. For now, that's not what we're actually interested in though!

6. to get started with your theme, click the edit HTML button.

7. This pops open a thing with the code from your blog. This is where you can edit or paste code into to customize your blog. This is where the fun starts!

If you know code, you can write code yourself, but I'm going to just assume that you don't know enough code to write a tumblr theme. Fortunately for you, there are lots of people out here on tumblr dot com that do know how to write code and make tumblr themes and do this AND make these themes publicly available for anyone to use.

8. Where do I find this, you might ask? Great question! A good place to start is Theme Hunter, which is a blog where they share lots of independent theme creators themes. Typically when you use someone's theme, you should reblog their post about it, as this is often a term of use. Theme hunter is nice because they are really organized so you can find some nice categories to start you theme hunt in their "more" drop down:

you'll notice that they also have pages about how to install tumblr themes. The "page themes" section is for side page themes. We'll get to that in little bit, but for now what you want is the "Tumblr themes" Most themes will have a set of easy to use customization options for stuff like background colors, font sizes, sidebar images, links, accent colors, etc. Most theme posts will have an example or "live preview" of the theme in question so you can play around with it and see if you like all of the features. Remember that you can change all of the colors and the font sizes if you like.

9. Once you find a theme you like, click on the "code" link in the post which typically takes you to a pastebin page with the code of the theme.

10. click "raw" in the top ribbon, which takes you to a new page that has nothing but the code on it. (highlighted in red)

the new page will look something like this:

11. click anywhere in this page, and hit ctrl + a (on windows) or command + a (on mac) this selects all of the code. Now hit ctrl + c (windows) or command + c (mac). This copies all of the code to your clipboard.

12. Now go back to the theme editing page for you blog and click anywhere in the code box. hit ctrl + a (windows) or command + a (mac) to select all of the text in the code window. hit backspace (windows) or delete (mac) to erase the text.

13. now that your code window is empty, click in it again. Hit ctrl + v (windows) or command + v (mac), which should paste all of that code that you copied before into the code window.

14. Now hit "update preview" (highlighted in red)

this will update the preview of your blog so that you can now see it with the theme! It may not look quite right yet, but that's because you haven't set up all the customization options yet! Note that until you hit "save" the theme does not become live on your site.

15. hit "save" then hit the back arrow on the code window next to the gear symbol.

16. Now for the fun part! Customizing! Scroll down In the little sidebar to the section called "theme options." This is where you'll get to select stuff like colors, sidebar images and fonts. Sometimes, things still won't look right in the preview, but once you go to your page, you can see what it actually looks like. I recommend having a copy of your blog page open in another tab that you can refresh every time you hit "save" while customizing your theme, to make sure that things look right.

Tadah! you have a new cool website. share the news with your followers.

If you want to get into learning how to make your own themes, check out buildthemes or buildatheme or theme-hunter's tuts page. To learn about web code in general you can sign up for an account through codeacademy or dash general assembly or W3Schools or html dog

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Whumptober Day 10 (Aaron Hotchner x y/n Hotchner)

No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

Alt: tears, whimpering

Warnings: child abuse (straight after the cut), alcoholism, homophobia, f-slur, homophobic parent, internalised homophobia 

Word count: 1629

A/N:  we’re bending canon a little, Hotch joined the BAU a lot sooner (like 8 or so years before aha hope yall don’t mind, we’ll say after he got his law degree thing, he did a few years of law-ing until aged 24?)

@whumptober-archive

“No, no, no, no, no, I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I s-swear-” Your words are rushed and messy as you say them, scurried back.

"Shut up, boy," Your father slurred. “My son, the faggot,”

You gave a sob, your stomach dropping. You felt like you were going to be sick. You had been cocky and it got you caught. His car wasn’t there, how were you supposed to know he was home? You had kissed your best friend, Michael, after the two of you had decided to test the waters into being more than friends and gone on a date (to see a movie). And he had seen through the blinds.

“I’m sorry, dad, I’m sorry, I swear-” The strike was expected, but still took you by surprise. You didn’t fight back, knowing that there was no point, that he was too fueled by hatred and alcohol to care.

When the hits eventually stopped, you waited, curled up on the floor, waiting for him to leave the room. You heard him wander upstairs, shutting his bedroom door loudly behind him. You drag yourself up, wincing in pain as you do. You climb the stairs slowly, knowing that moving any faster would cause more harm than good. When you enter your room, you shut the door gently behind you.

You limp to your bed, throwing yourself down, whimpering as you did so. You reached blindly under your bed hidden at the bottom of a box of photos is the cellphone Aaron got you, telling you not to tell your father about it. He'd just take it away and right now it was your only link to the outside world. You pause when you’ve got the phone in your hand, letting your emotions flood through you for a moment, sobbing loudly, hand covering your mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle them. When you’ve recovered, you dial Aaron's number, you knew that because of his work he had to keep his phone on at all times.

Aaron’s phone woke him up, turning over with a roll, he saw at the time. 3 AM. His stomach dropped seeing your name flash on his phone. “(Y/N)? What happened?”

“I pissed him off,” Came your pained reply. “I just wanted to hear your voice. Calms me down,”

Aaron gave a sigh at his brother’s words. “I’m coming to get you,”

“I can take it, Aaron,” You mumbled.

“I don’t care. I’m coming to get you,”

“I can take it,”

“(Y/N), I’m doing what I should have done at eighteen,” Aaron said strongly, “I’m picking you up and you are going to live with me and Haley,”

"No, Aaron, it's fine, really, I'm fine,"

"No, (Y/N), it's not. You're not fine either," Aaron said, "Lock you door, pack your things. Don't open the door unless it's me, okay?"

You nodded, mumbling an okay as you walked to the door, locking it. "I've locked the door,"

"Good, now pack everything you can." He said, you heard shuffling, assuming it was him getting out of bed. "I will be there soon, pack as much as you can, we'll come back for the rest."

"Okay," You whispered, "Are you sure this is okay? Haley won't mind?"

You heard Aaron quietly explaining the situation before another voice popped up, "Of course I don't mind, (Y/N)," Haley responded. You relaxed, okay, Haley didn't mind. That was all that mattered. If she didn't mind then it was okay. Everything would be okay.

"How long until you get here?"

"I'll be there in half an hour, okay?"

"Okay,"

“How bad is it?” You paused, wincing in pain. “(Y/N)?”

“I’m fine,” You hear Aaron sigh on the other side of the line.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m fine.” You don’t mean to snap, but you do.

"Are you going to be okay until I get there?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"(Y/N), come out, come out wherever you are," Your blood ran cold at the slurred voice from the hallway.

"Aaron, please hurry," You whispered.

"I will." You gulped as your father slammed his fist against your door.

"Come on (Y/N)!" He yelled, "Just open the door,"

Ignoring the voice of your father and the pain spread throughout your body (motivated by the time limit Aaron had given you), you looked around your room, gathering your school work from your desk and floor, shoveling it into your school bag. When you had finished with that, you moved on to your clothing. You knew that if push came to shove, Aaron would let you steal some of his clothes if you needed it. You were just hoping you didn't necessarily need to.

You don’t reply, trying your best not to listen to the comments he yells through the door, the threats, taunts, you block them out the best you can as you continue to pack. You’re nearly done, school work all in your backpack and you’ve got the majority of your clothes in another bag.

You hear the front door open and slam shut and you know it’s Aaron. Your father is silent on the other side of the door as Aaron loudly climbs the stairs, letting you know he’s here. Perfect timing, you’ve just finished packing all of your essentials into the bag. You zip it up, clutching it and your backpack in your hands tightly.

“What are you doing here?!” His slurs are more pronounced now and you imagine he’s also swaying on his feet.

“I’m taking (Y/N),” Aaron’s voice is tight and leaves no room for argument.

“You want him? Have him.” Your father snarls. There’s a soft knock on your door.

“(Y/N)?”

“Aaron?” You ask, wanting to make sure it’s him before you open the door.

“Yeah, come on,” He says, you give a small ‘okay’ as you unlock the door. You can tell that Aaron’s trying not to react to the sight of your face, littered with bruises and cuts (some of which are slightly bleeding). “You all packed?”

You nod, holding up the two bag. “Alright,” He says, “I’ll take them, you go sit in the car.” You give him an unsure look but nod and do as he says. As you’re making your way down the stairs, you hear Aaron beginning to talk. “You come near him again, I’ll kill you.”

“Shouldn’t be talking to me like that, boy, I’m your father,"

“You never were a father.” Is his response before he, too, makes his way down the stairs. “Come on, I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

You shake your head, “Aaron, no, I’m fine,” You argue as he places your bags in the boot of his car before the pair of you climb into his car.

“I just want to check, alright?” You huff but nod, knowing he won’t let it drop (and because if Haley finds out you wouldn’t let Aaron take you she’d give you her signature look of disappointment).

You watch the nurses and doctors eye Aaron up with caution at your condition. They think he’s the one who did this to you, you know it and Aaron does too - you watch his hands tense at his side. He hates the idea of people thinking he hurt you. “Are you alright?” You ask softly.

He turns to you, giving you a strange look, “Should I be the one asking you that?”

You grin, giving a small laugh, “You look worse than me,” Aaron laughs and you join in, wincing as you do and concern flashes across Aaron’s face. The nurses and doctors, seeing this realise that he couldn’t have been the one that hurt you.

You’re called in not long after that, into a small room, you sit on the bed, Aaron stood close to your, hand protectively on your shoulder, letting you know that he was here. “I think it would be best if you gave us a minute alone,” The doctor says as she looks at Aaron. Aaron nods, removing his hand from your shoulder.

“Please don’t make him leave,” You whisper, looking at the woman with wide, pleading eyes. “It wasn’t him, please don’t make him go,” She nods and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Who was it?” She asks, you look at Aaron, unsure whether you should answer.

When Aaron nods, you turn back to her, “My dad,” You say.

“We’re looking into ways to press charges.” Aaron adds.

“What? When did we agree to that?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.

“I meant me and Haley,”

You scoff with a smirk, “Of course, she’s got you wrapped around her finger, you know,” Aaron merely rolls her eyes.

Severe bruising, bruised ribs, and a mild concussion. But otherwise you’re fine. You’re still sat on the bed, Aaron sat next to you, waiting for the discharge forms.

“What set him off?”

“I-” Aaron’s heart broke as your voice cracked and you took in a shaky breath. He knew that you were unsure whether or not to actually tell him what had happened.

Aaron gently rubbed circles on your back, “Hey, I’m not leaving - not again. I’m your brother, through thick and thin,” He soothed, “Nothing will push me away, okay?”

You nodded, “He saw me kissing Michael.” Aaron wiped the tear that had fallen, carefully guiding your head to his chest.

“It’s okay,” He whispered, you gave a sob. “It’s alright, I promise. I won’t let anything bad happen to you again.”

“I- I tried not to like him, I promise, Aaron I promise,”

“Hey, (Y/N), I need you to listen to me,” Aaron paused, waiting for you to nod. When you do, he continues, “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter who you like as long as you both treat each other right, that’s all that matters.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[hangmansgbaby]

Gunpowder & Lead O N E

Masterlist

Emory's POV is written by @mamachasesmayhem and Jake's POV is written by me.

Banners are POV changers.

"You can't be serious."

The look I sent my husband is lethal and would make lesser men cower. But not Jake. If anything, it amuses him. I swear the man gets off on trying to put me in my place.

A smirk crossed his handsome face, and I wanted to kiss it and slap it off when he replied. "Oh, but I am. Mayor Mitchell is throwing a banquet in honor of the task force in a few weeks, and all the beautiful spouses are expected to attend."

I'm damn near wearing a path in the dark concrete of the floor of The Underworld as I recount the conversation I had with Jake to the rest of the Furies.

"I'm not going. It's too close for comfort, we tempt fate enough as it is on a regular basis by being linked to these idiots! It feels like we'd be chumming the waters by going." 

I stop pacing and place my hands on the stainless steel table in front of me, hoping the contrast in temperature helps me slow my breathing. Birdie's hand lands on my shoulder then pulls me upright and into a hug.

"Hey, it's ok, Em. Deep breaths," Her voice is soothing as she gently rocks me side to side. She's always been the voice of reason when I start to panic. "You don't have to go, it's not worth the stress, ok?"

Ever the realist and not afraid to give me the hard truth, Addie pipes in. "We'll support you no matter what, you know that. But it may not be the best look for the commander's wife to be missing from the event that is basically being held to celebrate his hard work." 

I groan, realizing how bad it actually would look. I don't have time to dwell on it though, because the motion sensor for the front door of Cora's goes off. The live view of the detection pops up on the monitor on the wall and everyone's eyes snap to the screen. It's safe to say our jaws drop in unison when we see the panicked faces of none other than Penny Mitchell and her daughter, Amelia. A collective gasp leaves the group, and Birdie and I rush up to let them in, leaving Addie and Erin behind. It's our typical response in a situation like this, just in case it's a "married to a police officer" matter instead of a Furies one. We quickly push open the door, usher them inside, and lock it back.

"Oh my God, you two! What happened?!" I ask, wrapping Amelia in my arms and holding her close to my chest. She started working in the bakery part time last summer and she’s started to become like a daughter to me.

Birdie has an arm around Penny's shoulders as she guides her to sit in the cushy loveseat in the corner. Once the backs of her knees hit the chair, Penny collapses into it and begins sobbing. Amelia breaks not long after her mom and Birdie and I try our best to comfort them, something we've grown to be unfortunately good at doing. Once their cries slow to stuttered breaths, I offer to grab them some hot tea and they gratefully accept. When I return with two oversized mugs in hand, their faces are tear stained and swollen, but they each have a determined look in their eyes.

Amelia surprises me when she speaks up first. "We need a pomegranate scone, Mrs. Seresin."

If I wasn't already sitting down, I would have fallen flat on my ass at her statement. There's no way she knows about what really goes down in the Underworld, we keep it wrapped up tight during the daylight and are careful to make sure nobody overhears any conversations with potential clients. It takes a lot to fluster me, and I'm almost surprised with myself when I stumble over my reply. "Oh, uh...Mel...we don't have those available at the moment."

"Natasaha sent us," Penny's voice is rough as she replies. "She was dropping off something for one of the paralegals as a surprise from her boyfriend when she saw Amelia sitting in the car. I was inside, confronting Pete about his most recent affair, telling him that Amelia and I were leaving. I was so angry that the adrenaline presented itself as courage when I knew better than to speak out. My mom always said 'don't leave mad, just leave.' I should have taken that advice."

My brain buffers as I process what she's telling me. Why didn't Nat give us a heads up that they were coming like we all do with "direct referrals"?

"Miss Nat saw me in the car crying and tapped on my window. I was...I was the one who discovered dad was cheating on mom. I went into his office looking for a spare charger for my MacBook when I noticed his desktop was unlocked. I didn't mean to, but a notification came through and pulled his messages up. I took pictures on my phone and ran out like I was never there before he got back from the bathroom. I showed mom after dad had left for the day and we started packing immediately. I told Miss Nat what happened, that mom was inside telling dad we were leaving. She told me to tell my mom to bring me here and ask for a pomegranate scone. She said that y'all had a team that would hide us and protect us from dad. I don't know what happened after that, but she went inside and mom came running out a couple minutes later. Now here we are."

I'm blown away by how strong Amelia is, and my heart breaks at the same time as I watch tears steadily roll down her face as she explains what she knows. She curls further into her mom's side, finding comfort in the arms of her mom.

Penny clears her throat before continuing. "Pete had landed a pretty solid hit on me when we heard Natasha come in the door. He shoved me into the bathroom so she wouldn't see my injured face and I slipped out of the window and ran to the car while he was distracted. Nat saved our lives tonight..." she trails off, holding back more tears.

I move to wrap them both in a hug and Birdie does the same. "You're here and you're safe now. We've got you. Let's get y'all downstairs and into bed. You two get a good night's sleep and then we'll talk more tomorrow, how does that sound?" Penny nods her agreement, and we all make our way to the secret elevator leading to Safe Haven, the shelter we've put our hearts and souls into building. "Our operation is...a lot bigger than you think. You'll see some familiar faces around while you're down here, but I promise we'll keep you safe."

An hour or so later, the girls are settled into their apartment for the night and Penny has a burner phone on hand with instructions to call me when she's ready to talk. Birdie has filled the group in on the situation; Erin is dropping Penny's car off in the impound lot while Addie fiddles with the car’s tracking system. She'll make it look like they drove towards the border then disable the system all together. It's a wild goose chase we send the more...affluent offenders on. Most normal guys don't have the intelligence or the means to track the car of a runaway spouse, but Pete Mitchell has both of those things in spades. We quickly agree that no matter what Penny and Amelia decide to do, we will bring Mayor Mitchell to his knees. This is what we were made to do; remove corrupt men from power. Suddenly, I realize that the banquet is now a solution instead of a problem. As much as I hate it, I'll absolutely be going and using the opportunity to gather intel on who I now consider Public Enemy #1.

I tell everyone goodnight, then head home to see my husband. It's gonna be difficult keeping this one from him for now, but I've held onto bigger and badder secrets before. After learning about my alter ego, Jake has made it a point to wait up until I get home, refusing to fall asleep unless he's seen for himself that I'm home in one piece. He's barely keeping his eyes open, the exhaustion of the long day nipping at his heels, when I slip into bed next to him.

He immediately pulls me close and wiggles until we're both laid down, my cheek pressed against his chest and his chin resting on my head. "You always smell like cookies, smells so good," he mumbles against my hair.

I snuggle in closer, finding comfort in the warmth of his bare skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to flip out like I did."

His arm tightens around me and he leaves a gentle kiss on my temple. "No, Sweets. I'm sorry, I know it's a complicated situation and I shouldn't have pushed so hard."

"I'd be proud to be your arm candy, Commander Seresin." I look up at him with a smirk on my face.

Jake groans at being called commander when he's too worn out to do anything about it. "That was mean, Mrs. Seresin. I'll get you back for it later." He pauses as he turns to bury his face in my neck, whispering a soft "thank you" before he slips into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I discreetly slipped away from the counter to check on the Mitchell girls. Penny and Amelia don't care what happens to Pete, so long as they're far away from it and can lead a somewhat normal life afterwards. This is their home too, after all. Penny tells us that her family has some property with a cabin that Pete doesn't know about up in Montana, so we make a plan to get them out there as soon as possible and they'll stay until this is all sorted out. The next few weeks pass in a blur as we make our plan for the banquet. It's been hell keeping it from Jake, but the less he knows, the better. A few days after the girls disappeared, questions about where they were started popping up around town. Conveniently, its summer break for Amelia and Penny is self employed, so Pete explains away the worry by telling everyone it was a spontaneous, open ended mother/daughter bonding trip before Amelia's senior year of high school began.

“How’s the security detail going Mr. Commander?” Nat asks, dropping a stack of files onto her desk across from mine. I groan, tossing my own papers down.

“Explain to me why we’re setting up security for an event we aren’t even working but being honored at?” I question, Nat laughs from behind her coffee with the logo of my wife’s cafe in clear view. “How’s Em this morning?”

“Dreading tonight.” Nat responds. “Are you really making her go?” 

“Mayor Mitchell was very specific about bringing our significant others.” I state clearly.

“Let me correct myself.” Nat leans over the desk, lowering her voice. “Do you really want to bring your wife, THE Persephone, to a banquet honoring the task force meant to bring her and all of our significant others in for murder? Do you realize how many Furies are gonna be in that room?!” She shouts in a whisper.

I do realize how many will be there, all of them. Besides Bob and I'd wives there's still Addie and Erin who are dating Bradley and Javy, respectively.

“The girls are smart, Nat. No one will be the wiser to the Furies wining and dining under their noses.” I brush off her concern. I am fully aware of the abilities of my wife and her sisters. They’ll be fine, I know it.

“Well your wife isn’t entirely sure of that.” Nat states. “Perhaps you should talk to her.”

“We’ve talked, Nat. She’s going and everything will be fine.”

Birdie comes over a few hours before the banquet so we can get ready together. Usually, we'd have Attie with us, but she's tied up in a case that's in the middle of deliberation. I have a tendril of Birdie's hair wrapped around the barrel of the curling iron when she pins me with a look through the mirror. 

I sigh, knowing something is on her mind and she won't chill until she tells me about it. "Alright, out with it."

"So you're really gonna do recon on the former police commander turned mayor at a banquet in his own home?" She asks, clearly concerned. 

"It's the best opportunity," I shrug. 

"That's not what I'm worried about," she says with an eye roll as I unwind her hair into the perfect loose curl. 

"What are you worried about then?"

She raises her eyebrow in question. "Really?" She questions before sighing. "Hades isn't gonna like this."

I have no control over the scoff that escapes me, honest. "He doesn't even know about Mel and Penny. And what Hades doesn't know, won't hurt him."

"No, you idiot. He won't care that you didn't tell him about the girls. He's gonna be mad as hell if he finds out you're running an op as Persephone when you're supposed to be there as Emory Seresin. The wife of Jake Seresin, commander of the Spartans? The very same Spartans that are being honored at the banquet we're attending for their efforts to stop the Furies? Ringing any bells?" Birdie's hands flail as her voice rises to a higher pitch with each word. 

Damn her for always being logical. 

"It's gonna be fine, B. Like you said, I'll be there with my husband, Jake. Not my literal partner in crime, Hades." I continue curling her hair, acting like I've got it all under control and like I'm not freaking out on the inside. 

She lets me sit in the quiet for a few minutes as I finish up, and I think I'm in the clear until we've slipped into our dresses and I'm buckling the clasp of my heels around my ankles. Jake and Bob, who had been at the Floyd home, drinking beer and watching football, come through the front door. Their boots are heavy on the steps as they climb up the stairs to make sure we're ready to go. 

Birdie's eyes land on me once more, giving me one last warning in a low murmur. "It's not too late to call it off. You know Jake will lose his shit if he catches you, Em."

"Good thing he won't catch me then," I grin. 

The boys step into the bedroom, looking dapper in their wife coordinated shades of green. Jake is in a sage green button up under a gray blazer that matches his slacks, with my favorite cowboy hat of his resting atop his head. If I wasn't in full Fury mode, we'd probably be late for dinner. Bob's wearing a mossy green button up with black slacks and his hair has grown out enough to curl behind his ears. They both let out whistles of appreciation when they spot us. 

Birdie and I are both wearing white dresses, and the irony is not lost on us. I opted for more of a boho feel, a satin maxi dress with thigh high slits, cut outs around my ribs, and a shimmery ring that connects to a halter top. B looks like a modern-day Marilyn Monroe in a silky, cap sleeved, backless midi dress with her blonde curls. Thanks to smudge proof lipstick, both of the boys get kisses to return their appreciation. They're the epitome of southern gentlemen as both of their palms find their homes on the small of their wives backs, escorting them down the stairs. Each couple heads their separate way with plans to drive separately. Jake helps me into the passenger seat of his truck before climbing into the driver's side. As we pull out of the driveway, I notice that the brake lights of Bob's truck aren't illuminated and I chuckle. 

Jake reaches across the console to grab my hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss before he asks, "What's got you giggling over there?"

"They're definitely getting a little carried away over there. How much you wanna bet they sneak off together before the fourth course starts?"

The laugh that leaves my husband feels like sunshine on my soul and the guilt for keeping him out of the loop comes creeping back in. 

"I say they make it through the fifth. Winner gets to use the handcuffs?" His dimples are prominent when he grins, and I'm half tempted to make him pull over for a second so I can climb into his lap and put my thumbs in them. 

Already slipping into my Persephone persona, I don't fight my smirk when I reply. "Game on, Commander."

Game on, indeed.

“You know, when I announced I was campaigning for Mayor, I figured most of Austin would laugh at me. I mean, I was the Commander who hadn’t ranked in 20 years and the minute I got the offer I retired to focus on my family. Not really a look everyone wants to vote for.” 

Many of the fellow policemen in the hall laughed at Mayor Pete Mitchell’s speech, including myself and my team who have at one point or another worked directly under him at Austin PD. 

“But look where we are! 5 years later and I am 3 months into my first term as Mayor and we have accomplished so much!” Pete continues, earning applause from his audience. “But today isn’t about me. No, today is about the men and women assigned to bring down the vigilantes of Austin. Known as the Task Force to policemen, the Spartans in the media and heroes to the citizens of Austin, I simply know them as my friends. Here’s to them, may they find victory in bringing Persephone and the Furies to their knees.”

I eye my wife beside me who barely lifts her glass as high as everyone else at our table. I know she’s uncomfortable with the Spartan/Furies talk, especially at my work events. It’s her livelihood, her creation. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She mutters, a soft smile graces her features. 

“Make it through tonight and I’ll make it worth your while when we get home.” I whisper to her with a wink. Normally, Em would get THE look on her face and say something along the lines of ‘why wait?’ but tonight, her gaze doesn’t leave the mayor’s frame as he moves down to greet a few men in suits by the stage. “Sweets?”

“Can’t. Girls and I are meeting at the Underworld afterwards.”

Since when? They all agreed to take the night off. I literally just listened to Bob and Birdie make their own plans for when they get ho… oh. “Who came into the Bakery?”

“No one Jake, just a gloss over of expenditures.” She answers, eyes still glued.

“Then it can wait for tomorrow.” I say, resting my chin on her shoulder, kissing it as I come up. “Spend a night with your husband.” I almost plead.

“I can’t, Honey.” Emory replies more firmly, breaking her one way stare off. Erin Monroe chooses that moment to walk by from the other table and slips Emory a piece of paper.

“Oh we’re working early tonight now? ” I ask, my once soft gaze on her drops along with my voice. “I thought we agreed no Furies business.”

“It’s not.” She replies, tucking the paper into her clutch.

“You forget. I know when you’re lying, sweets.” 

“I gotta use the restroom.” She suddenly stands, kissing my cheek. “I’ll be back.” She starts to walk away but I catch her wrist, standing so I can whisper in her ear.

“You wanna toe the line, Persephone?” I question, despite my low volume I can tell the words ring throughout her mind. My voice is deeper than normal, something I don’t do often.

“I’m not doing anything, Hades.” She stands firm.

“That's fine, but remember, sweets, even she obeyed Hades.” I nearly growl in her ear. Emory’s eyes widen as she looks up at me. “Don’t be too long sweetheart. Once you're done, we’re going to thank the Mayor and call it an early night, but neither of us are sleeping tonight.” I watch Emory trip over herself before she composes herself and quickly walks towards the restroom.

Bursting through the front door, I already have Emory pinned against the wall. Em groans as I attack her neck with bites and kisses. The sounds she lets out only spur me on. 

“Jake.” She moans softly. “Please.”

“Now sweets,” I tease as my teeth scrape against the base of her throat. “You know good girls get what they want.” 

She arches into my touch, moaning in frustration as I continue to kiss down her collarbone. I trail lower. My hand slips under her skirt. Her underwear is warm from her body heat. The soft silk feels so good against my calloused palm. Em gasps when my fingers brush against her clit. I smile into her skin as she tries to push my hand away. I don’t let up my assault on her neck. She bucks against me, trying to push me away. I growl a low warning into her ear before I take it into my mouth.

Her nails dig into my shoulder blades. I suck harder at her neck. A few seconds later, she starts to moan, her whole body arching into mine.

I feel her body tighten around me, her breath coming out in short gasps. It’s all the encouragement I need as I slip two fingers inside her. Fuck. She’s so tight. So wet. I start stroking slowly. I can see the beads of sweat building on her forehead. Her eyes are clenched shut. As I hit the right spot, she starts crying out.

“Oh fuck! Jake! Oh god! Please don't stop! I'm gonna come!” Her fingers tighten around my bicep as as soon as I can tell she’s ready to cum, I pull back making her wine as her orgasam becomes out of reach once again.

“I told you sweetheart, only good girls get to cum.” I grin down at her, leaning forward to give her another quick kiss but pulling away, just shy of her lips. “And you certainly were not one tonight. Now how about you race upstairs and show me how good of a girl you can be when you listen.” I chuckle as she shakes her head, grinning too. I slowly walk behind her as she runs into our bedroom.  I follow her inside, shutting the door behind me.

Turning around she’s already laid out across the bed. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. I can’t ever truly punish her, especially with the way she’s looking at me. The pure love and adoration with a hint of lust clouding her eyes. My beautiful wife. “Fuck, Em.” I groan, stripping as I walk towards the bed. “You disregarded my one request for tonight.”

“I’m sorry! Fuck Jake I’m so sorry!”

“God I could never stay mad at you, sweets.” I grin down at her, climbing onto the bed. She wraps her arms tightly around my waist. “But you better make it up to me.”

“I will, I promise. I’ll do anything,” she breathes. “Anything at all.” She leans up to kiss me as we roll over onto her back. Our hands find each other immediately as I begin trailing kisses down her body. Her legs wrap tightly around my waist, pushing me even closer. God she’s so responsive. We fit together perfectly. I could spend the rest of forever doing nothing more than fucking this woman. She moans in response as I slip into her. I feel her pussy clenching around my cock. It sends a surge of pleasure coursing through me. 

Sex with Em has always been amazing. It feels like every part of our bodies are working together perfectly. Her touch drives me crazy. She’s my everything, my life. And I’m hers. Fuck, I want to hold her forever.

My fingers dance along her skin while I thrust into her. Em’s face is twisted with ecstasy as she rides me. She’s breathing hard as her body trembles beneath mine. “Jake… please…” Her words are little more than an exhale of air, the sound muffled by our kiss. She pushes herself up, effectively flipping us to rock faster against me. “Shit… fuck yes! I'm gonna cum! Oh shit!” She yells as her climax overtakes her. l let out a deep groan as she continues to move her hips through her release, squeezing me as I finally reach my own. Emory leans down to lay on top of me as we catch our breath. 

Minutes go by before I gently pull her up and lay her on the bed, moving to grab a washcloth from the bathroom.  I return to the bed and clean her off. Smoothing her hair back, I press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I love you,” I mutter, kissing her again. 

“I love you too.” She smiles, moving to rest on the pillows once I was done.

“Do you wanna tell me what was going on tonight?” I can feel Em’s shoulders drop as I lay down next to her. “Em?”

“Penny and Amelia came into the bakery a couple weeks ago.” She answers.

“Well you pay Mel to be there most days, so I hope she was there.” I joke but when Em doesn’t laugh with me I know it was something else. “The girls aren’t on a mother/daughter bonding trip are they?” I ask and Emory immediately jumps up.

“He was so awful to them, Jake! Nat happened to show up the night they were leaving and Amelia told her everything. Penny got hit and immediately hidden in the bathroom before Nat could see anything!” She explains. “He’s been cheating on her for years!”

“Okay but putting a target on the Mayor? Em this is so much more dangerous than going after someone like a random ex husband.” I explain. “If word gets out, his security is going to double and Em, Chief Simpson will not let us rest knowing the Mayor is in danger. Our lives will be so much harder!”

“We can’t let him get away with it Jake! What if he killed Penny? What if he hurt Amelia?” 

Amelia has been like a daughter to us ever since she started working with Em and Birdie. Emory has a point, I’d never forgive myself if Pete ever hurt Amelia. 

“You stay out of sight no matter what, all of you. This is close to home, personal. He knows all of you. If you get caught, we’re all screwed.” I instruct.

“We know, honey.”

“And you keep me in the loop. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Sweets.”

“When have I ever not been careful?” Em laughs just as her phone starts ringing. “It’s Birdie, probably wondering where I am.” Em says after grabbing her phone.

“Lemme see.” I pull it from her, quickly making myself sound out of breath as I answer the phone. “She’s… she’s busy B.” I groan trying to contain my laughter.

“You’re sick. I know y’all ain’t still fucking! The curtains are open.”

“Well shit. Oh well, she’s not coming tonight.” I reply. “Also when did y’all leave?” 

“After the third course.” Bob chimes in.

“HA! I win!” Em cheers.

“I hate both of you.” Birdie chimes. “I’ll let the girls know we’re meeting tomorrow instead.”

“You do that!” I say, “My wife and I are gonna be a little busy for the rest of the night.”

“Gross, I’m hanging up now.”

Emory and I both start laughing as I set her phone on the nightstand. Almost immediately Em gets up. “Where are you going?”

“Getting the handcuffs.” She smirks. “It’s Persephone’s turn to have a little fun.”

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[foxes-that-run]

Fine line

Fine Line is layered, both vulnerable and brave, closing an album about the highest highs and lowest lows.

To NPR Harry said "Fine Line" was written in tour gap in January 2018 in LA. This was a few weeks after the End Game video was released and while Harry was still dating Camille.

Harry was very emotional performing MMIH and Sweet Creature in the weeks after, till July when he seemed happier. TS got to the US the day before that last link.

To Zane Lowe Harry said Golden and Fine Line were the first songs written for the album. (22:30) he knew they were the first and last.

Harry has said it is his favourite on the album (32 mins), yet it is played live sporadically, it was dropped in 2022 when Harry's House came out, but reappeared for May - July 2023 shows. The live performances vary, some are somber, the one above in NY he smiles on crisp temptation and not all have the last line, ending with 'Thank you (city)' instead.

Mitch told LA magazine he learnt from Harry "The songs are all snapshots [of my life] but nothing's in order." It and Golden being written before Cherry and Falling helps inform the inspiration.

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Put a price on emotion I'm looking for something to buy You've got my devotion But man, I can hate you sometimes I don't want to fight you And I don't want to sleep in the dirt We'll get the drinks in So I'll get to thinking of her

The first verse tells of feeling emotionally numb and desperate to feel. He loves the muse but it is fraught, such as a significant ex. In other songs like Grapejuice and Kiwi Harry describes this tension with 'pay for it' in both a pleasurable and emotionally costly way. Pay for it is possibly a reference to the Liner notes for All you had to Do as stay “they paid the price” AYTDWS is a pivotal song for Harry, he has a tattoo that references it and has used it in many lyrics including As it was.

'I don't want to fight you, but don't want to sleep in the dirt', is sung so gently it's palpable, you can hear the past hurt. To me, the last line is referring to his then girlfriend in Cherry and Falling.

[Chorus] We'll be a fine line (x6)

The fine line is between acceptable and not, being in love and risking being hurt and friendship and infidelity.

[Verse 2] Test of my patience There's things that we'll never know You sunshine, you temptress My hand's at risk, I fold Crisp trepidation I'll try to shake this soon Spreading you open Is the only way of knowing you

The second verse builds with tension. Harry is tempted by his muse, wanting her. Harry often describes his muse in terms of being ethereal, in the sky or here as Sunshine (Golden, Sunflower Vol 6, Olivia - Sunshine and Butterflies).

He gives into temptation, with the wonderful lyric of crisp trepidation of the point of touching someone he wants. When he sings he will ‘shake this soon (shake it off) is a similar lyric to Meet me in the Hallways “I gotta get better”

Spreading you open is the only way of knowing you is a lyric that shows both sexual and emotional hunger for the muse. They are not good at being just friends. Many of Harry's lyrics expand on wanting deeper connection.(tongue tied in Two Ghosts and Sunflower Vol 6) or not speaking enough. (Sign of the Times). Referring to Taylor Swift, Harry has said he can put into song what he can't in words.

[Chorus] We'll be a fine line (x11) We'll be alright We'll be alright We'll be a fine line We'll be a fine line We'll be alright (Alright, alright, alright)

In the final chorus the music and his voice builds with we'll be a fine line, deciding to continue navigating the friendship. Finally the music reaches a great crescendo and the lyric changes to we'll be alright.

DBTC also ends with Taylor asking if it will be alright and the response is I don’t know.

Fine Line's "We'll be alright" is similar to and WITW "And I know we'll be alright, child" and Sign of the Times "Just stop your crying / It'll be alright"