#car sound-absorbing materials

[giazhou1]

With the rapid development of the automobile industry, the problem of interior noise has become more and more prominent, and consumers' demand for a comfortable interior environment has also increased. In terms of car noise treatment, transulate has become a popular material. Its advantages in lightweight, environmental protection and other aspects make it an ideal choice for extensive use in car interiors.

[corruptedcaps]

Tastes

It had started innocently enough. Claire had found the latex skirt at a thrift store and had taken a shine to it. The normally conservatively dressed girl was taken aback by her own interest in the skirt. It was shorter than what she was usually comfortably with, the material was something she detested and the colour matched none of her existing clothes, in essence it was the furtherest thing from her own tastes but for some reason she walked out of the store with it newly purchased.

“Wow I don’t know why I wanted this so badly but I’m glad I did it looks great!”. She said happily later at home. She spun around in front of the mirror smiling to herself.

“This will be perfect for my date later.” She said to herself taking in her figure from every angle.

However something was feeling off. Something not quite right like she was missing something. It clicked.

“My hair is all wrong and I need a facial.” She said snapping her fingers in her moment of realization.

She was never one to care that much about her appearance but a half hour later she was in the salon being convinced to go for a drastic hair change.

“Are you sure? That’s a big difference from what I have now.” She asked the hairdresser who suggested it.

“Absolutely it is but right now your hair says ‘nice to meet you’ but what you really want it to say is ‘it’s nice to meet me.” Replied the hairdresser.

Claire liked the sound of that. Really liked the sound of that as she started to feel a warmth below her waste that was unusual for her.

“Do it.” Claire said in a low register that was laced with sudden confidence and the hairdresser got to work.

As the hairdresser got to work Claire closed her eyes and let her mind drift. She imagined the look on the face of her date when she would show up later looking like a new woman.

“He probably won’t even recognize me, he’ll think I’m there to steal him away. Mmmm that’s kind of hawt.” She thought as the hairdressers’ fingers massaged her scalp sending her further into her fantasy.

“Claire? Sounds like some unfuckable loser. I’m Chantelle, my tastes are as rich as my name sounds.” She imagined saying to her date.

As her fantasy continued she felt a pleasurable tingle coarse through her body, unaware that her simple latex skirt was growing up her body, absorbing her top underneath the salon cape draped over her.

“You seem like a man of refined taste, but can you keep up with mine?” She said in her fantasy while her lips curled up into a seductive smile.

“How about we go back to your place and I’ll show you how delectable my taste can be.” She giggled in her mind playfully.

“All done!” The hairdresser suddenly said, breaking Claire from her fantasy. As the hairdresser moved away, Claire finally got a look at herself in the mirror and her instance reaction was one of shock.

“Who is that?” She wondered as she gazed at the beauty in front of her. Her hair was big and eye catching, her face was smooth and painted with bitchy perfection. Even her eyes seemed to sparkle. So captivated she hadn’t even noticed her outfit had changed.

The longer she stared at herself the longer she felt a coldness wrap around her heart. Altruistic feelings were being sapped from her as more narcissistic thoughts slipped in in their place. Her face rested into a bitchy pout.

Rising from the chair like a regal queen she clip clopped over to the register in high heels not realizing that she had walked in with sneakers on.

“You look wonderful miss.” The hairdresser praised as she rung her up. Claire basked in the attention. She did look wonderful.

As she walked back through the mall towards her car she felt the eyes of every man on her, drinking her in. The longer they looked the more her mind became wicked and vain.

“Of course they can’t stop looking, it’s not everyday they see a goddess.” She thought to herself as she took her time getting to the parking garage, she needed everyone to see her. She craved it.

Again so occupied by her thoughts that she didn’t feel her outfit change on her body, becoming shorter, tighter. Her heels became taller as her breasts pushed her dress to its breaking point.

The outfit had reached its final form and in turn had totally corrupted Claire. As she stepped into the parking garage and eyed her beat up car she nearly gagged. This wouldn’t do for a woman of her status.

Thankfully a she spotted a handsome man hitting the alarm off button on his expensive convertible. He would do, Claire thought to herself as she stalked over to him.

“Excuse me, but would you do me a kindness and drop a girl like me home?” She said rocking up to him.

“I’m sorry but-” he said turning around and going mute at the sight of her. She gave him a fake smile as she put her hand on his shoulder.

“I would be so grateful if you could.” She said batting her long eyelashes at him. Looking down at his hand she noticed a wedding ring. Even better she thought wickedly to herself.

“For sure, no problem. Please get in Miss…?” He replied transfixed by her.

“Chantelle.” She simply said as she walked around to the passenger side.

“Chantelle? That’s a gorgeous name.” He said as they both got in the car. She sat seductively across from him.

“Suits me then don’t you think?” She said flirtily making him gulp.

“So eh, where can I drop you?” He said starting the engine.

“Oh your house will do.” She said putting her hand on his thigh. He gulped again as he pressed the button on his car to close the roof, he had a feeling he was going to need the privacy.

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

Take Me Down To The River † James Hetfield (16+)

Part One of Two

Mentions/Warnings: smalltown!james, smalltown!reader, angst, hurt and comfort, exes to lovers, suggestive content

Cicadas croon in a repetitive notion as you slowly make your way down the seemingly never-ending road and pathway, the tattered and overworn lace on the bottom of your dress caressing itself against the tops of your boots with every step you trudge forward. The sky is gray and an offset blue, yet heat still permeates itself through the thickened clouds as music eventually begins to make itself known within the distance between you and the familiar looking, abandoned church ahead. Cars line themselves in hazardous and haphazard lines on each side of the jagged and uneven damp dirt road, and irritation starts to sear in your stomach as loud voices and engines begin to surround you.

You halt mid step and contemplate turning around and creating a false excuse as to why you were unable to show up to the party on your way back home, before you flinch back at the sound of a truck barreling its way down the pathway you're currently stood on, and as dark and browned water spatters itself against the now ruined bottom half of your dress. The muddied liquid immediately absorbs itself within the cotton of your outfit, and a grimace paints your already downtrodden features as the material latches itself onto your newly soaked skin. You look down in numbed disbelief as droplets collect themselves in the hem and then pummel downward, and you're hardly able to fully lift your head up again before a voice is yelling out and at you.

"Holy shit, I swear I didn't see you there," an oddly sounding familiar voice cries, and brakes are soon squeaked to a stop soon after, the high pitch constriction sounding the complete opposite of the slow music echoing itself down the road. Blonde and disarrayed strands of mane cover the left side of the man's face, and your heart stutters in your chest as the muddled air brushes it away to show the features underneath. James pauses in the middle of opening his door, and only comes out of his stupor when someone else in the car shoves him forward. He's barely able to catch his weight on his forearm resting in the created opening of the window's edge, and his own face twists in disgust as his left shoe makes contact with the soot textured filth he covered the bottom half of you with. "Are you alright?"

The second the question is verbalized, he's shaking his head at his own inquisition, and his lips move inward as you take a step backward and go to walk towards the small opening in between the rows of cars. "Wait!" He requests, yet you sift your fingers down the fabric and bunch it up instead, before lifting your other weighed down boot and continuing your half blind travel. The sun is now pivoting behind the earlier clouds, and you ignore the unyielding calls behind you as you attempt to find the source of running water you remember visiting only a few years ago. There's a halted moment and a pause within James calling out to you, and you suck in a deep breath of relief, just as a warm hand encircles itself around your right forearm. Your body's first instinct is to flinch away, even as the cool and familiar temperature of his rings press themselves against your bare skin and silently beckon you in.

"I didn't know you were back in town," the slight stammer in his now deeper tone softens your hardened shell, even as you tense under his hold, and as his grip loosens once he notices your demeanor. The dual sound of your guys' shoes and boots squelching as they imprint themselves in the mud is the only consistent cadence, before the cicadas round again, and as his fingers absentmindedly run their pads down your goosebump ridden flesh. Your fists clench themselves in the material of your dress as he retracts his hold from around your lower arm, and you force yourself to look forward as he clears his throat. "I'm really sorry, if I had known it was you, I would have slowed down."

Your lips raise on their own accord, despite the awkwardness and tension in the air, and you can feel James' eyes rest on you as your shoulders shake with your uncontained laughter. "And if it wasn't?" You edge, your knuckles relaxing against the wet cotton, the dress's material sliding back down to cover the rest of your legs as you catch sight of the river to your left. James allows himself to fully catch up with your own steps, and you subconsciously lean into his warmth as his clothed shoulder brushes and caresses itself on your own bare one. The smile in his voice when he answers is obvious, and if you'd allow yourself to relax any further, it'd almost feel like you two are eighteen again. Meeting up for a date by the river, or for a moment of silence, while your mutual friends raise hell not so far behind.

"I'd speed up and get even closer," he instigates, his smile turning into a smug grin when you look over at him in amused shock, your features brighter and livelier than a few minutes prior. "It's common sense and knowledge around here to walk in the grass anyway, most locals know that," his left elbow bends and purposefully collides with yours, both of your guys' smiles mellowing after he finishes his sentence. "Even if they've been gone for a while."

You're saved from answering as you pivot and carefully inch yourself towards the edge of the side of the river, the mud covering the bottom of your boots aiding you as you squat down to level yourself with the flowing water. James keeps himself a step behind you, and without even having to look back, you already know that he's got both of his hands positioned to catch you in case you fall. You place your dampened palms on the rocks and rest your backside against the cool surface, a shiver wracking up your spine as you place your lower limbs into the current. Hurried waves of excited and once still water wash ashore on the worn leather of your boots and stained dress, and you watch as both of your reflections look back at each other in the darkened liquid.

"It's been two years," you remind him, your breath leaving you in a shuttered exhale, and you wet your lips as you watch his features withdraw and close up. "You chose what you wanted to do, and I chose as well, I suppose. I'm not upset about it anymore." The tightness in your chest constricts as renewed guilt reawakens on his face, and you situate your eyes on the other side of the river, instead of having to see him relive the last day you two spoke to each other.

"You didn't abandon me, regardless of all of the fucked up things I said back then," James iterates, finally fully meeting you at the edge, and the large rock beneath you two shifts, before it recenters and seeps back into the soil. His left hand rests right next to your right, and you coerce and stop your fingers from spreading in a blind search of his own. "You did the right thing for yourself back then, and I did too." You twist around to try and look back for the truck he had driven in with, but it was too far back and blanketed within the others.

"Found the rest of your band members, huh?" You search gently, and hum around a renewed smile as you see him nod in your peripheral. The coil unravels in your chest, and for the first time since you've seen him again, it nearly feels easy to breathe. A ripple of cool water lifts the bottom of your dress from the tops of your boots, and you peer down as it naturally folds and rests on the middle of your shins. You brave yourself enough to look over at him, and the breath halfway exited from your chest halts, as your irises immediately find and latch onto his. "I knew you would." You breathe, you voice barely audible over the rush of water, the background music and cicadas, and the erratic beating of your own heart. It's pathetic how something as simple as a reciprocated look from your first love can have the last few years apart, feel like only seconds.

You swallow thickly and press your tongue to the roof of your mouth as his blue eyes track the movement, your fingertips pulsing against the cold stone beneath the two of you, as you cautiously wait for his next move. Expecting him to be as impulsive as much as he is shy has you tensing, and your spine relaxes as he instead looks away and inches forward. Reddened and calloused hands reach forward to gather the material of your dress, and you raise your legs in front of you for better access. The residual water he wrings out the cotton sounds like temporary pouring rain, and you can't help but shudder as he curves a roughened palm around your right calf to tug you in closer. His fingertips coalesce to scrub out some of the mud spatter and browned water, and you purse your lips together in an attempt to hold back a titter of laughter as it just makes it worse, the river's water doing nothing but softening whatever had hardened on the travel over.

"It's alright," you try to placate, your voice sounding tight as you try to swallow down your own mirth at the situation, it becoming harder to do so as he rubs the material back and forth together with annoyed vigor. You see his hands beginning to turn a light hue of purple, and you hastily bend forward to take his own in yours. "It's okay, James, it's only a dress." Your words are ignored as he continues under your hold, and you're only able to gather his full attention once you grab ahold of both of his wrists. You bend your knees and rest your now completely soaked boots on top of the rock beneath you two, and James follows as you beckon him to fully sit back down next to you.

"I can buy you a new one, or I can take it to the dry cleaners. I promise you; I'll figure something out this time." His words seem hushed and hurried, and you absentmindedly rub your thumbs against his pulse points, feeling his blood pumping anxiously underneath your digits. You tug on his unsteady hands and lay them on your right thigh, and send him a gentle look when he rests his unfocused gaze onto you.

"There's nothing to figure out, because everything is fine. See," you purposefully trail your eyes down the expanse of your body, and you make sure that he follows suit. His eyebrows furrow when you two get down to your boots, but he's already quickly relaxing into your hold. "I'm right here, we're both in one piece. We're all good to go."

He tsks and shakes his head to himself, before following your earlier movements by looking behind you both, seemingly trying to find his truck throughout the others. "I've got a spare outfit or two in the truck's backseat," he offers, and he's up onto his feet before you can fully digest his words, gently twisting his wrists out of your hold, only to mold his own hands against yours and squat down in front of you. "I said I'll figure something out this time, and I meant it. I may have broken both of our hearts and nearly drowned you in mud, but I can at least offer you a shirt that hasn't been cleaned in the past three days." He's got a familiar looking playful and hopeful gleam in his eyes in response to your own wry look, and you know it's best to follow him instead of trying to fight back and disagree, so you place the heels of your feet underneath you and allow him to bear the rest of your weight.

You hold back any reaction to the wet gush of water that covers your toes once you're fully stood back up, and you give yourself permission to hold onto the hands you've tried to convince yourself you haven't missed. You walk behind him through the tight rows of cluttered cars and trucks, and try not to reminisce on the times you two were in a similar position. Just having gotten out of the swimming pool back in senior year, with a wide smile on your face, and you lifting yourself up onto the tips of your toes to press the physical representation of your happiness into the middle of his shoulder blades.

The only sources of light down the long road and pathway are from headlights that were left on, and from taper candles that were brought earlier on from the actual party throwers. The tinged and artificial yellow light gives off a warmer atmosphere as you two shuffle yourself free from the onslaught of vehicles and back onto the slab of dirt, and you feel James let out a hefty sigh once you two do. You carefully untangle a hand from his and move forward to stand beside him, your relief becoming palpable as the red truck that must be his comes into immediate view. He's reaching forward into the truck with its window still down and pushing it open from the inside, before twisting the high beams off and motioning you to head inside first. You pause once you're able to stabilize yourself on your knees on the large front seat, and kick off your boots before you fully get into the truck. James is repeating the motion and barely has his door fully closed, before he's got a forearm and bicep disappearing in the direction of the backseat.

Your lips nearly split with the size of your disbelief ladened smile, as a shirt you once gifted him is tugged free from a messy pile. Red and black overworn and stretched out cotton is strewn onto and over your lap, and you clutch onto it as you try to figure out his expression. James stares forward as you slowly and carefully lift your hips up to tug the sticking material from your still dampened skin, and you hold back a shiver as you free your bottom half. You can see in the yellowed light from the other cars multiple feet away from his that his hands are gripping the steering wheel, and his teeth are pressing themselves into his bottom lip, worrying the natural swell. You tug the remainder of the dress off of you and drag the shirt and his scent over your mussed hair and head, and slowly lower yourself to lay back against the tinted leather.

By the time you've got your dress half folded up and resting near your bare feet, James is loosening the hold he has on the steering wheel and turning his head to look in your direction. You tug at the collar of the obviously worn and stressed shirt. "You kept this," you unhelpfully point out, and your breath hitches as you catch the familiar glint of metal on the keychain attached to the keys that were left in the ignition. "And you also kept the gift that I got you for our one-year anniversary."

"What about it?" He grates, his tone aggressive, yet saddened. James' hand lowers to almost protectively touch the keychain, as if he's reminding himself that it's still there. You push yourself up into a fully sitting position, uncaring as the material of the shirt lifts to rest on your upper thighs, as you begin to feel frustrated as well.

"The night I came and told you about me getting accepted into a college out of state, the first words out of your mouth were just take it and go, leave me already. That our relationship was essentially bullshit, and that neither one of us should hold each other back," you're unable to hold your emotions at bay, your tone becoming weaker. Tears burn and make themselves known at the precipice of your waterlines, and James stares at you helplessly as they begin to make their way down your reddened cheeks. "You broke up with me the week after you thanked me for always being by your side, and right after you got news of Cliff wanting to join the band. We celebrated the night before, and we made plans. To travel together and figure our shit out on our own time. That the timeline of things didn't matter, as long as we have each other."

James reaches out to take ahold of your hand, and you edge them further back, averting your eyes to not have to see his reaction to your rejection. You hear a broken exhale, and then the faint sound of something dripping onto leather. The hand James originally reached out to you with is raised temporarily, and then brought back down, now wet with tears. "You don't understand," he begins, the earlier strength and sureness behind his tone now nonexistent. "You were the only person there for me for years, and then an opportunity of a lifetime was offered to you, and I couldn't have let you miss out on that. I know you, and I know that if I had asked you to stay closer or wait another year on your dreams for me, you would have," you look up at him to intercept and disagree, but you hold yourself back when you see the expression on his face. "You gave up so much for me within the years we were together, and even before then. The least I could've done then, was give up the fear of holding you back."

"We could have made it work; we could have figured something out." You try to reason, but let go of trying to rationalize it all when you finally have him in front of you to explain. You reach out this time, and instead of being rejected like you did with him earlier, he meets you halfway. The air pillowing in from the rolled down window smells like moss and post rain shower, the light is artificial and it's getting darker as each minute passes by, but you're here together. And with the first swipe of his thumb across the second knuckle of your left forefinger, you're moving in closer. Your bare knees make brushing contact with his right thigh, and his free hand intertwines itself with the material of his shirt.

"As soon as you left, I ran headfirst into finding the rest of the members of the band. Lars and I almost lost our minds with it, and I needed the distraction. We went days without telephones and nearly without food. Even if we could've tried to make it work, we wouldn't have been how we were," he traces the faded and ripped lettering and guides his fingertips up to the collar, before using it as leverage to usher you forward until you're both only centimeters apart. His exhale becomes your inhale, and as you blink, you can feel as your eyelashes skim and make brief contact with his cheekbone. "I think I needed to lose you, to figure out what shit really matters."

Hope blooms in your chest. And despite being partially freezing cold, terrified of making the wrong move, overstepping and then getting out of the truck alone, being in such a close proximity to him brings you so much comfort and warmth. "And what shit really matters?" You ask, tilting your head up with a nod, and fighting back the urge to close your eyes as your lips brush against his. You can sense and feel his answering grin without even having to glance down. And for the first time in two years, and instead of being kissed goodbye, you're being welcomed back in.

"You matter." Is murmured within a gasp, and you're unable to process anything but the touch of him again. Each brush of lips and the teasing swipe of tongue has you letting go of his hand and instead freeing your own to grip onto the handle of the driver's side door, only to use it as leverage to climb onto his lap. His hands are on you instantly, easily finding their way underneath his gifted shirt to dig his fingertips into your heated up flesh, his palm making direct and firm contact with your spine to push you even closer up against him.

You have to lean back and disconnect your guys' lips to suck in a much needed inhalation of breath, and James takes advantage of your newly exposed skin once you do. His tongue lengthens itself down and leaves trails of saliva and marks in its wake, and by the time he's got you littered in marks and nearly rutting against his lap, he's pleading with you. "Tell me you're going to stay."

You raise your hand to reach up and grasp onto his long, blonde locks, your lips swollen and bruised red, and your breath still lost. With a gentle tug and an answering groan, you whisper.

"Give me a reason to."

[mataritopalestine]

Hello dear friends

🛑 STOP SCROLLING PLEASE 🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

I am Mohammad Matar, a civil engineer. I graduated in 2015. I am a father of two children, Imad, 3 years old. Rima, 6 months We lived a comfortable life and I owned a car . I used to live in an apartment in Khan Yunis, then I moved to an apartment in Gaza City.

I own a company that works in the field of contracting and selling building materials with five employees, and engineering equipment, a trailer, a forklift, and rams. My life was like paradise.

Suddenly, on October 7, everything turned like a dream. I woke up to the sound of missiles and explosions. My wife was pregnant with my little girl. I tried and escaped from my apartment in Gaza City and headed to the safe areas, which I do not know where they are. The sound of death and destruction is everywhere.

what can i do !! I was displaced south to the central city

He stayed there for two months, then came the second exodus to the city of Rafah, then the third exodus to the city of Nuseirat, then the fourth exodus to the city of Deir al-Balah, and one exodus after it. Our life is like hell. We do not have the energy to absorb this amount of pressure.

In February 2024, my wife was about to give birth. I could not provide clothes for my newborn daughter, nor milk, nor gum, due to the brutal war and the scarcity of financial resources. Just writing and thinking about this thing makes my condition worse than tragedy.

I learned the English language and am currently studying the Spanish language and obtained a degree in water engineering. I dreamed of developing myself and my company, but everything went to waste. I did not imagine that one day what happened would happen and I lived in a tent next to the house and became jobless after I was the owner of a company.

My dear brothers and sisters, I did not accept one day to receive charity, but I had everything and I lost everything. Your support for me, even if it is a little, will change my life and the lives of my children so that I can provide them with milk, pampers, and safety, rebuild my home, and restore my life for the better.

I put my family first in everything. My children are the most precious thing. I have this life. I hope they live a more beautiful and better reality

Your support for me will strength my resilience and will keep me holding up . Thank you from the bottom of my heart

The land of peace has never seen peace.🕊️🔥🍉✌️

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 81)

(Hi, more body horror.)

The journey to the pod was way more annoying on foot, with an entire group of people following behind her and tripping over every single peice of debris mechanically possible. And with her feet aching with every step.

Maybe she should've switched out her boots for something more comfortable, or at the very least didn't trap her feet as much… ugh, it almost felt as though they were swelling… scratch that, they probably were, another perk of being partially organic.

V was flying low around them, looking over the group of around ten drones as they trudged through the snow, turning the previously untouched blanket turn into slick sludge. N had stayed behind (unwillingly) to guard the bunker perimeter.

She was sure he'd told V to keep a close eye her, if the way she sometimes hovered just behind her or the way Uzi had caught V staring. But she was used to it at this point.

When she'd gotten up at dusk V had been there, Tera asleep at the female disassembly drones side, tail curled around her protectively while the girl herself sat on guard, back against the wall of the nest.

They'd made eye contact, but V had just nodded slightly and went back to watching over them, at least until N woke up about an hour later. Then she flew off without much in the way of conversation.

She wasn't even going to question the weird animal stuff anymore, trying to fight them just ended up making more problems nine times out of ten, so if instinct told her to jump… well… she'd jump.

The spire loomed over them in the distance, it's gnarled shape casting a long shadow over the city streets.

Tension fell over the group, looking at the mass grave with apprehension. Uzi climbed up onto a broken car (with considerable effort) and began to direct the crowd.

“Alright, the mouth of the spire should be big enough to drive the lift through and pick up the pod without it bringing the whole spire down on our heads.” She pointed to the lift driver, who gave her a thumbs up before driving around her, heading up through the open maw.

It felt strange being back here. The spire had always felt desolate. But now it really was, what once held life now empty as it's inhabitants moved on.

And she couldn't help herself…

She unseathed her wings, startling some of her group as she flew up to N's old nest, landing with a wobbly thud in the center.

It still smelled a bit like him, not as strongly, fading into the wind over time. But she could still pick up the faint scent of old furniture. She smiled softly as she ran her hand over the red tattered blanket they had slept together on, he'd left it here presumably because it wasn't good enough to keep.

He was probably right… it was covered in rips and oil stains, and worn thin in several places. It was still soft though… the material feeling nice between her fingers.

She could probably fix it and add it to their new nest… yeah. That sounded right, no need to waste perfectly good material when she could fix it.

She grabbed the blanket, rolling it up and shoving it in the backpack she'd taken with her, she looked down from the nest into where it opened up into the rest of the spire, watching the forklift dig it's way underneath the pod slowly but surely.

She didn't know really how to feel about it, the pod had become a second home to her after awhile, hanging out with N inside, trying to teach him drawing tips that he never really seemed to absorb.

They should do that again.

There was the metallic crunch as the forklift found it's place, beginning to lift the pod up and unanchoring it's spider-like legs from the ground, the pod groaned in protest along with the lift, but after a moment, the pod came loose, balanced on the dual fork of the lift.

Her team gave out a collective whoop, the lift operator giving a thumbs up out of the cab as she smiled, floating down to join her team with her wings.

“Great! Now let's just get this thing to the workshop!” She clapped, watching as each drone began the journey back, it was likely to be much slower… the pod was pushing the weight limit on their poor lift.

“You good to walk the rest of the way back?” V's voice at her back startled her, making her jump about a foot in the air, before clutching her fervently beating core.

“Jesus V! Don't scare me like that!”

V didn't apologize, nor did she even acknowledge the statement, only waiting for an answer as she looked Uzi up and down.

“I'm fine. Walking's not gonna kill me.” She grumbled, following the rest of her team out of the corpse spire, vehemently ignoring the way the bottoms of her feet felt like nails digging into the soals.

She was beginning to dispise being doted on, it was tolerable enough coming from N, but if V started treating her like she was made of glass too she may genuinely throw something.

And yes, she was constantly exhausted, her entire body was becoming freakishly sensitive, some smells had her feeling dizzy, and her muscles were on fire. But she was fine, completely fine.

So she kept telling herself, and telling herself, even when halfway back towards the spire her core began to flutter and she had to stop for a moment, leaning up against a broken down van while her vision swam.

“Who is that?” She heard a drone speak softly, not to her, but to someone next to them “I dunno… they look… off.”

Fighting through her head feeling like pudding and her core screaming, she made her way to them, eyes focused on what they were looking at.

A drone.

A drone hunched over, oil drooling from underneath their visor, one eye was normal, beading out tears as their mouth tried to form words, the other side displaying a glaring red error.

“G-get aaw-way.” They choked, voice sounding garbled and horse; lurching forward, a thick, black tendril snaking up their arm, the limb itself twitching violently. A member of her team began to step forward.

“No!” Uzi was in front of them quickly, flaring out her wings and pushing them back with the rest of the group. “Don’t touch them!”

The drone whimpered, the tendril on their arm suddenly tightening, spiderwebbing up their spinal column until it reached the back of their head. A digital screech rang out, their visor flashing out several errors before displaying that it was fatal.

The infected drone was only able to take a single step forward before a torrent of flame burst from the air, V hovering just above the rest of the group as the smell of melting plastic wafted through the air, tendrils burst out of the burning body, thrashing in every direction before they were turned into harmless ash.

Everyone close enough looked traumatized, as did Uzi, the first time seeing it in person. She sighed, looking up at V.

V was looking back, concern visible on her visor, she landed beside Uzi with a thud, and turned to the rest of the group.

“Keep going! Don’t stop for anyone! Even if they look injured.” V shouted, and after a stunned minute of silence, the group started moving again, albeit a little faster than before, a tense kind of silence falling over them.

“Fuck…” Uzi cursed, looking at the charred remains. That drone had still been semi-conscious. Almost begging for help- or death.

“Took the words outta my mouth. Come on, it’s not safe this far out from the bunker.” She wasn’t expecting V’s hand to fall onto her back, pushing her forward gently, she also wasn’t expecting the instinctive urge to lean back into her tempting warmth. Hell no! She and V were on better terms now, but that didn’t include a cuddle pile she was near certain. What was her obsession with warmth lately anyway? She should be trying to be as cool as possible and not overheat!

“Yeah, alright.”

Next ->

[steddieasitgoes]

Inspired by the tags I left on @phoenicae poll about our favorite way Eddie didn't die.

I know we all headcanon Steve being the one to carry Eddie out of the Upside Down when they make it back in time after defeating Vecna but consider:

Steve's own body is giving out on him. He's bleeding through the makeshift bandages Nancy fitted him with from all the running they've done getting back to Forest Hills. He's woozy and lightheaded and relying too much on Robin to keep him upright as they finally make it through the woods and spot Dustin and Eddie in the distance.

Dustin is crying, yelling about how Eddie still has a pulse and they can't leave him here, and Steve tries his best to suck up his own pain. Tells Dustin he'll get Eddie back through, but when he bends down to hoist Eddie up, his own knees give out and his vision blacks out.

There's more yelling and pulling, and before Steve knows it, he's being fully supported by Robin. Dustin hobbling behind them.

"We can't leave Eddie," he shouts, glancing over his shoulder as Robin guides him to Eddie's trailer door.

"Nancy's got him, come on!" she shouts, pulling him faster.

And then there's Nancy.

So-called priss Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy Wheeler, who lost Barb, her best friend, to the Upside Down three years ago.

Nancy Wheeler, who lost her classmate and friend Fred days ago because of the Upside Down.

Nancy Wheeler, who just spent several days keeping Eddie safe from a misguided witchhunt that is all the Upside Down's fault.

The same Nancy Wheeler who shot rounds and rounds of bullets through the monster controlling the Upside Down minutes ago.

Nancy Wheeler has been here before.

She's seen what the Upside Down does to a person.

Knows first-hand what it does to the people who get to escape while others don't.

Nancy Wheeler has lived with survivor's guilt for three fucking years.

And she's not going to let Dustin, her favorite of Mike's friends, have to learn what that survivor's guilt feels like.

She's not going to let another one of her friends die because of this place.

Not on her watch.

So, she drops to her knees and gets to work. Stars ripping her shirt to wrap around the worse of Eddie’s wounds, hoping it’ll keep some of the blood in. Eddie winces in pain and it’s the most beautiful sound Nancy’s ever heard because it means he’s still alive. 

“Come on, Eddie. Stay with me okay?” 

She’s left in just her bra when she finishes bandaging him up as best she can. His blood is already soaking through the cotton material and she can hear Robin shouting for her from inside the trailer. 

There’s no time to waste. 

She takes a deep breath, plants her feet and slowly hoists Eddie into her arms. His screams are defending but she tunes them out, running towards the trailer with all the energy she has left in her. 

“M’sorry, I thought you were a priss,” Eddie chokes out, blood oozing from his mouth. “You’re b-b-badass.” 

“You’re pretty badass yourself,” she says as she takes the stairs to the trailer two at a time. “Maybe when all this is done we can be badass together.” 

Eddie hums noncommittally as his eyes start to flutter and Nancy kicks herself into high gear. She manages to get him to clasp his hands around her neck, positions him so he’s on her back and starts climbing the rope. When they flip through, Nancy makes sure to turn their bodies so she absorbs the brunt of the fall, Eddie falling limply on her back with little protest. 

Nancy only has a moment to catch her breath before the door flies open and she’s following a dying Eddie into the back of an ambulance. Robin and Dustin piling into the ambulance for Steve. 

Days later when Hopper asks Nancy how the hell she carried Eddie through a gate in the ceiling, she shrugs. 

“I guess it’s like those moms who lift cars off their kids. I just did it.” 

“It’s because she’s badass,” Eddie supplies instead. “Badass Nancy Wheeler.” 

[rhymeswithfart]

Please look, important info below taken from this list

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Matar.

Hi, I am Mohammad Matar, a civil engineer. I graduated in 2015. I am a father of two children, Imad, 3 years old. Rima, 6 months We lived a comfortable life and I owned a car . I used to live in an apartment in Khan Yunis, then I moved to an apartment in Gaza City.

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what can i do !! I was displaced south to the central city

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[elikajinnie]

Whispers of Desire: A Night to Remember- Sim Jake X fem!reader

a/n: i did not plan for this to go this way. I wanted to add more but decided against it. Im a slut for this man.

Warnings: Swearing, VERY suggestive content

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The evening was draped in a soft glow, the sun setting with hues of orange and pink as you meticulously prepared for your date with Jake.

The anticipation in your heart created a delightful flutter as you sifted through your wardrobe, searching for the perfect dress that would capture the essence of the romantic evening ahead.

Finally, you laid eyes on it—a flowing ensemble that gracefully complemented your figure, the fabric cascading gently as you held it up. The color, a subtle blend of elegance and allure, seemed to resonate with the sunset hues outside. As you slipped into the dress, its soft material embraced you, enhancing your every curve.

The mirror reflected a vision of beauty back at you, and a satisfied smile tugged at your lips. The anticipation heightened as you moved to your vanity, taking extra care with your makeup. Each stroke of the brush was a deliberate act, enhancing your features with a touch of glamour. The soft glow of your favorite highlighter accentuated the high points of your face, and a subtle hint of color adorned your lips, completing the masterpiece.

With a final glance in the mirror, you marveled at the transformation. The evening held promises of enchantment, and you were ready to step into its embrace. The scent of your favorite perfume lingered in the air as you made your way to the door, the soft rustle of the dress a symphony of anticipation.

As you descended the stairs, the sound of Jake's car pulling up outside reached your ears. The excitement bubbled within you, and with each step, you felt a delightful mixture of nerves and eagerness.

As the doorbell rang, you felt a rush of excitement. Opening the door, there stood Jake, handsome as ever, a bouquet of flowers in hand. His eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and a lovesick smile spread across his face. The air seemed to crackle with electricity as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving you.

"Wow, you look amazing," he breathed, his voice laced with admiration.

A warmth blossomed in your chest as Jake leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. His touch was tender, but the desire simmered beneath the surface. He couldn't seem to get enough, and neither could you. As he deepened the kiss, you felt his hands gently guiding you toward the bedroom.

As the allure of the bedroom beckoned, Jake's lips continued to dance with yours, each kiss an echo of the growing desire between you two. The air was charged with an electrifying energy as he skillfully led you toward the intimate sanctuary.

The journey continued until, with a subtle shift, you felt the plushness of the bed behind your knees. A gasp escaped your lips as Jake, with a confident yet tender touch, guided you down onto the mattress.

Jake, now hovering above you, seemed to savor the sight before him. His eyes traced the curves of your face, absorbing every nuance as if etching the memory into his mind. The desire in his gaze was palpable, a flame that kindled a reciprocal heat within you.

His lips descended once more, capturing yours in a hungry kiss that sent shivers down your spine. The room seemed to pulse with the shared intensity of your breaths, the whispered endearments creating a symphony of passion.

The gentle exploration of hands on your body was like a sultry sensation as Jake's lips left a trail of heated kisses, starting from the delicate curve of your collarbones. Each tender touch sent a shiver through your body, a prelude to the escalating desire between you two. His lips, warm and insistent, traced a path along the exposed skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

As he moved upward, the anticipation heightened. The sensations intensified with each lingering kiss, and the air seemed to crackle with an electric energy. Jake's lips, now on the curve of your neck, elicited a soft gasp, your fingers instinctively tangling in his tousled hair.

His journey continued, ascending with purpose, until his lips finally met yours in a hungry kiss. The kiss was a culmination of the sensual journey, a union of passion and desire. The taste of his lips, lingering from the journey upwards, merged with the warmth of your own, creating a heady blend of shared intimacy.

Just as things started to escalate, a glance at the clock snapped you back to reality. You reluctantly broke away, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

"Reservation, remember?" you reminded him, his pouty face causing a giggle to escape your lips.

With a quick peck, you pulled him away from the enticing allure of the bedroom.

As Jake maneuvered the car through the city streets, the atmosphere inside the vehicle was charged with a palpable energy. With one hand expertly gripping the steering wheel, he navigated the traffic with a confident ease, his eyes occasionally flickering toward you with an affectionate gleam. The other hand, however, had a more mischievous agenda.

His fingers danced between the gear shift and your thigh, creating a tantalizing distraction. With each subtle movement, the touch sent shivers down your spine. The car's engine hummed beneath the rhythmic shifts, the soft purr blending with the low background music, creating a symphony of anticipation.

As Jake shifted gears, his thumb traced intricate patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. The sensation of his touch, combined with the hum of the engine, made the journey an intimate dance between the two of you. The city lights blurred into streaks of color, an abstract backdrop to the shared secret woven in each touch.

When you arrived at the restaurant, Jake smoothly parked the car, and with a deft movement, he turned off the ignition. Instead of immediately unbuckling, his eyes locked onto yours, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. The car seemed to hold its breath as he leaned in, his lips teasingly close to yours.

The proximity was tantalizing, the anticipation palpable as you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. The mischievous glint in his eyes hinted at the playful dance that was about to unfold.

The car seemed to hold its breath, a witness to the charged atmosphere within. The exterior world became a distant backdrop as the magnetic pull of Jake's presence enveloped you. The mischievous grin transformed into a silent invitation, daring you to bridge the final gap between your lips and his.

But before anything could happen, he released the seatbelt, then gracefully exited the car, quickly rounding it to reach your side. With a gentlemanly flourish, he opened the door, and a rush of cool night air greeted you. Jake's hand extended, inviting you to step out, and as you did, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

In the dim glow of the restaurant's exterior lights, his eyes met yours with a sincerity that spoke volumes. "You look so gorgeous, baby," he whispered, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze held an intensity that made your heart skip a beat

The car ride to the restaurant was filled with laughter and stolen glances, but Jake's eyes never strayed far from you. He looked like a lovesick puppy, completely enamored.

Upon arriving in the restaurant, the ambiance was perfect—soft lighting, soothing music, and an air of romance. As you settled into your seats, you couldn't help but notice Jake's attention focused solely on you. He seemed unable to resist stealing glances, and his touch became increasingly affectionate.

The waiter, seemingly unperturbed by the charged atmosphere, approached to take your orders. Jake's hand found yours under the table, and a subtle thrill coursed through you as his fingertips traced delicate circles on your palm. His eyes, intense and filled with an undeniable desire, locked onto yours.

Despite the waiter's presence, Jake couldn't resist stealing moments of affection. Soft kisses were exchanged, each one leaving you breathless and yearning for more. The world around you faded as his lips found yours in a dance of passion, the taste of his lingering kisses teasing your senses.

With a polite smile, the waiter concluded the order, leaving you alone again in your intimate bubble. The menu now seemed like an inconsequential prop as Jake's gaze held yours, the unspoken promise of what awaited after the meal lingering in the air.

The dishes arrived, each one a work of culinary art, but your focus remained on the shared glances and the electrifying touch beneath the table. As you indulged in the exquisite flavors, Jake's hand continued its dance on yours, sending a thrill up your spine with every stroke.

The intensity between you two reached new heights as the meal progressed. The dessert menu arrived, and you couldn't help but chuckle, suggesting, "Let's skip dessert and head back to the car." Jake's eyes sparkled with mischief, and a shared understanding passed between you.

Paying the bill, you couldn't help but chuckle at Jake's eager anticipation. As you reached the car, he swiftly pulled the seat back, his gaze burning with desire. Without a word, he pulled you onto his lap, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss. The warmth of the car, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, and the taste of his lips left you dizzy.

The closeness was electrifying, the boundaries between you two dissolving in the heat of the moment. His lips sought yours in a hungry kiss, a fusion of passion and need. The taste of him was a heady blend of desire and familiarity.

As the kiss deepened, a low, guttural exclamation escaped from Jake's lips. "Fuck," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he reluctantly pulled away. His eyes, darkened with desire, held an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers had tangled in his hair, leaving it mussed and disheveled, a testament to the fervor of your connection. The vivid imprint of your lipstick smeared on his kissed-out lips was a sensual reminder of the stolen passion shared in the confined space of the car.

As Jake sat in the driver's seat, you on his lap, the warmth of the car enveloped both of you. The atmosphere crackled with the remnants of shared desire, and Jake's eyes lingered on you with an intensity that spoke volumes. His hands, exploring with a possessive tenderness, slid up your thighs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"You in that dress," he breathed, his voice low and husky, "you made me crazy." His words carried the weight of the desire that had simmered between you since the beginning of the evening. The air inside the car seemed to vibrate with the shared anticipation, the intensity of the moment amplifying the connection between you two.

His gaze roamed over you with a hunger that mirrored your own. The flowing dress, a cascade of fabric that enhanced every curve, seemed to captivate him. Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, felt the rhythmic beat of his desire beneath your touch.

With deliberate intent, his hands continued their journey, sliding up from your thighs to your waist. The touch was possessive yet tender, a silent declaration.

The vivid imprint of your lipstick on Jake's kissed-out lips reflected the stolen moments that had unfolded. His breath, warm against your skin, carried the scent of shared desire, and as his lips sought yours once more, the taste was a heady blend of lingering passion.

In that stolen moment, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in the intensity of your connection.

[licially]

Reminisce

// I'm no stranger to writing canon characters, but writing one with little to no material is something I've been trying. Have my rendition of Atlas May, a very short one.

The man stood silently near a footpath, near a bunch of buildings that closed off the street from the main road. He’d been here multiple times before, the same spot with the same corner with the same exact pose. His cane almost denting the stonework beneath him, as cars drove across every aspect of the busy main road. His focus for the roads diminished as much as his awareness for the time; after all, the clock that was up ahead were just off by a few seconds. Amidst the burning fuel and rubber, he stood still with an unexplainable expression. It was neutral, but with every passing moment he seemed more and more mysterious. Untethered to his consciousness, but rather absorbed in his subconscious.

The traffic didn’t seem to help him out of it either. He had been standing out in the street adjacent to the speakeasy with the specific intersection being near the bridge that turned towards street just by the Little Daisy Café. A lot of traffic from Illinois towards Missouri goes through here, and he observed vehicles like birdwatching. Sometimes, some trucks with his supplies will turn at his road without hesitation. Other times, he’d watch the busy road towards St. Louis as passersby go on with their lives, unaware of the person whose hobby is to observe.

Although he indulges his time alone, inevitably something will come up that will distract him, and tether him back to reality. It’s only a reward for what he’d done for the business he’s keeping alive with his partner, and his wife. Work, however tiny it is, had been his focus for all the times he’d been here, and he’s not letting anything stop it. As the traffic slowed, his hearing picked up two pairs of footsteps that walked towards him, his ears slightly twitched as his eyes reeled towards the source of the sound.

“Atlas!” A more than excited, gruff voice came up behind him. He immediately turned around, and saw his companion walk up to him with a glass of sparkling wine in his hand. “Where’d you been? The party inside is much warmer than out here!” He puts his hands on his shoulder that had him holding his cane, nothing too rough so that they lost balance. Atlas quickly looked at a brightly smiling Asa, alongside a concerned Mitzi that he turned his attention to. 

“Let’s go back inside, darlin’. You’ve been out here for too long.” She spoke up, reaching out for Atlas’ free hand and holding onto it. Her hand, however, showed a different warmth in comparison to Asa’s. 

To Mitzi, her hand on his was a way to show her love to him. Normally at events like this, Mitzi wears gloves to not let her hands be dirtied by anything. This time around, however, he saw her other hand had the glove that she took off. Her white dress was dimmed by the night’s light outside, and for her to dredge through the dirty roads and footpaths was dedication. She held her hand out to him, and his reluctant hold turned into a much more assuring one. 

Yet Asa felt cold. His voice reeked of alcohol, foods, and everything in between that contradicted his surname. Although they both helped each other to achieve this status and where they are now are held together by their alliance, his breath was shaky at best, and his hands didn’t have the same amount of togetherness that he had thought. His smile didn’t seem genuine either, it’s as if he only wanted him to be back in there for his benefit and showing off instead of letting him be.

Although both had intentions that were the same, the sincerity of each of them was a massive difference. He didn’t want to say much – as if he had much to say – so he nodded, taking Mitzi’s hand and slightly batting away a tipsy Asa. Mitzi smiled at him, as they all turned back into the street towards the speakeasy. His observations, however, lingered in his mind. He’d never been wrong about anything that he’d suspected before, and this time he’d still be right. 

Albeit it’s the last truth he’d ever find out.

[my-supernatural-rewatch]

Episode Five: Bloody Mary

Dean Winchester in the Supernatural episode Bloody Mary

Never one of my favorites but on this rewatch I realized it's actually pretty damn scary.

A child's game of Bloody Mary unleashes the vengeful spirit of a woman who travels through mirrors and seeks revenge on those with guilty secrets.

This one will probably not be that long either.

Right out the gate, we get concerned Dean who wants to talk about Sam and all the bad dreams he's having. Sam isn't very forthcoming. Big surprise.

I know we get a lot of "no chick flick moments" and all from Dean in the dialogue. But we also get Dean consistently saying to Sam basically "LET'S TALK ABOU THIS" so the narrative that Dean doens't like to talk about his or anyone else's feelings is already dispelled within the first five episodes of the first season yet it stuck to Dean for the entire series.

Make it make sense.

Right here is where I'm going to remind anyone who might come across this and decide to read it that I am not writing full synposes of the episodes so if you haven't actually seen the episodes there's a good chance you will be lost reading these posts if you're looking for any semblance of a plotline. This is definitely one of those posts that will completely confuse you if you don't know the episode. Sorry/not sorry.

I'm wondering if this is the only episode where we see the brothers bribe someone? It probalby isn't but at least it's the first. Sam bribes the coroner's assistant with money Dean won in a poker game.

Which gives us more of Sam trying to take the moral highground when Dean complains that it's HIS money by dismissing it becuase Dean won it playing poker. As if that isn't working for the money.

Christ, Sam.

Also on Sam: Yet another episode where he changes his voice when talking to the family of the victim so he sounds more sympathetic. How did ai never notice this before?

Cute brothers moment in the bathroom when they're both standing in front of the mirror talking about Bloody Mary and both refuse to say the words.

Okay, an important plot point: Bloody Mary only kills people with a terrible secret that they're absorbed with guilt over. Spoiler: Sam feels guility because he had dreams of Jessica on the ceiling burning for days before she died and he not only didn't warn her but he also took the fuck off with his brother to find their missing father who isn't really fucking missing. (Hey, does this mean we can pin Jessica's death on John?)

Another Dean myth dispelled in this episode is his intelligence. I mean they already pretty much have shown us Dean's no dunce, but in this ep he spends a LOT of time doing research, absorbing the material, and explaining things. And in one scene, he decides to do a national search for dead women fitting Bloody Mary's profile, against Sam's judgement...and THAT is how they figure out who she is.

Check out the big brain on Dean, motherfuckers!

They drive from Toledo, Ohio to Ft. Wayne, Indiana, and back to interview someone, and my geography knowledge is so limited that I had to Google how long that would take. In one of what I would guess is one of their shorter trips, it's only about 3 hours round-trip. (THESE are the things I'm thinking about while watching the show?)

The name of this week's damsel in distress is...Charlie. I get there were over 300 episodes of this show but it drives me nuts how often they re-use names. (Amelia anyone?) Anyway...

Using his patented compassion and soft looks Dean's the one who gets Charlie to admit the thing she's guilty about (a troubled boyfriend who threatend to kill himself if she left him and then who DID kill himself after she responded "Go ahead").

In the Impala, the brothers are discussing how to call out the spirit and Sam says he has the guilt so he'll do the summoning. Dean has had enough of his emo, fatalistic bullshit so he stops the car and tells Sam to fess up his secret for fuck's sake.

Dean's concerns are that the spirit will kill Sam, and he reminds Sam that it isn't his fault that Jessica died. Someone should tell Dean we've decided it's John's fault because what does Dean say?

"Why don't you take a swing at ME? I'm the one who dragged you away from her in the first place."

Setting up a decades-long argument among SPN fans who think Sam made his own decision because he wanted to go back to hunting and those who blame Dean for goddamn everything.

To be fair to Sam, his response is, "I don't blame you."

Thanks for that, Sammy. (That's from me, not Dean.)

Dean really doesn't want Sam to call out the spirit but Sam is damned and determined to. It feels less like he's doing it to save poor first Charlie and more like he's doing it because he feels like he shoudl be punished for what he did (or really in this case didn't) do.

And thus begins the storyline of emo Sam feels guilty about everything that isn't his fault for the next two seasons culminating in Dean going to hell...

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Inside the antique shop where Mary's mirror is supposed to be, Sam is trying to call her out while Dean goes outside to talk to the cops who have shown up since someone is mucking about in the shop. When he can't convince the cops that he is the adopted son of Mr. Yamashiro, Dean knocks both cops out.

How often has Dean (or Sam) done this? I feel like not often.

We're also on a steady stream of slowly showing how well Dean can handle himself in a fight and I'm here for it.

Hey back to smart Dean (and skipping over pretty much the rest of the story): He breaks the first mirror that Mary appears in when she seems to have Sam in his trance and it gets Sam out of his trance, but it doesn't kill her. She shows up again and Dean...not Sam, Dean, gets the idea to hold another mirror up to her...and she kills herself when she looks in it.

Dean is a smarty. Stop telling me he isn't.

But not that smart...this time he only gets a handshake from the woman he saved...not even a kiss on the cheek. Oh well, Dean. Better luck next time.

We end the episode with Dean asking Sam what it is he feels guilty about...what his secret is, and Sam says this:

"Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself."

Two things: Sam telling Dean he'd die for him is kind of huge. Up until now, he's been acting like Dean is an inconvenience. So I loved hearing that. But, again, we get Sam not opening up to Dean about his secret...and yet fandom lore is that Dean is the one who always refuses to open up.

Some notes for posterity:

The significant music from this episode comes from Def Leppard -Rock of Ages (the first but not the last time we hear this one!), Fall Out Boy - Sugar, We're Goin Down, and The Rolling Stones - Laugh, I Nearly Died.

The brothers pose as medical students from Ohio State but don’t give out their names. When they introduce themselves to the first victim's family, they give their first names and say they worked with the victim. When Dean is talking with the police he tells them he's the adopted son of Mr. Yamashiro.

This hunt takes place in Toledo, Ohio, and they take a trip to Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Dean wears John’s jacket in this episode.

[giazhou1]

Melamine foam can be widely used in automotive applications such as Engine sound insulation cover, car firewall, car roof thermal insulation pad, makeup mirror visor lining, large vehicle (bus, bus) body heat insulation layer, automobile tires (new energy) tire noise reduction and thermal insulation foam due to its excellent acoustic (0.95NRC) and thermal insulation (0.035 W/ (m*K)) properties, as well as its flame retardant, lightweight and environmentally friendly and safe features.

[that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict]

SIC PARVIS MAGNA {Charac. Profiles Pt. 2}

an au by @that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict & @seventhcallisto

SERIES MASTERLIST, Charac. Profiles Pt. 1

Jeong Yunho {Hans}

[24 years old]

(based on Helena Bertinelli, Huntress)

Backstory: He grew up with police officer parents who had interests in car mechanics, so he naturally picked up the same hobbies. Eventually started making weapons and studying art of weaponry as well as hopology. His family moved to Seoultham when he was a young teenager, where his parents got killed. Yunho had to resort to crime and smuggling to survive. He hated himself for committing crime (out of love for his deceased parents), hence he adopted the alias Huntsman (later renamed as Hans when he met the others) to gatecrash dangerous weapon dealings he hears of. Later on, he met Hongjoong through the New World weapons black market and joined him after hearing about Birds of Prey.

>Originally named Huntsman, Mingi pestered him to change it because it sounded too "intimidating"

>Co-founder of Limitless Mechanics, a 2 storey mechanics shophouse located next to the entrance of Felony Alley

>Lives at the shophouse with San

>Used to be an infamous illegal arms dealer, still has contacts in the intergalactic black market even as a vigilante

>Can be very protective of his members

>Resident Fix-It Felix of the team

>Spends most of his time tinkering at the shop with San

>Quickly grew attached to Mingi when he joined the team, and likes brainstorming new gadget ideas with him

>Signature weapon is a crossbow that he's always finding new features to add to it

Choi San {Hawke}

[23 years old]

(based on Shayera Thal, Hawkgirl)

Backstory: An alien warrior from planet Aurora who designed high tech weaponry from the planet's raw materials. His first encounter with a human was when he met Yunho, who was on a smuggling mission to Aurora. San assumed that Yunho was another greed-filled thief who came to his home planet to steal, but became friends with him when he found out they had a shared interest in weapons design. He was intrigued by Yunho's stories of life on Earth and decided to follow him back.

>Registered in Seoultham ("Omg my first human identity!!") thanks to Mingi pulling some strings

>On Aurora, he was known as San Hol, but he adopted the surname Choi after coming to Earth because he wanted to blend in more

>Co-founder of Limitless Mechanics (with Yunho)

>Has large feathered wings that he can shrink and hide

>A strong fighter with extensive knowledge on weapon design

>Can come off as very earnest and innocent

>Spends his time with Yunho at the shop or following around his other members to their activities out of curiosity

>Has very eccentric tastes due to growing up on a completely different planet

>Fix-It Felix pt. 2

Choi Jongho {Nightingale}

[22 years old]

(based on Dinah Lance, Black Canary)

Backstory: An only child living in a small town with his parents, he was born with a mutated voice box that allowed him to physically manifest soundwaves with his voice. He accidentally hurt his father with it when he was a kid, and started to see it as a curse for the majority of his life and didn't speak much out of fear of causing harm to others. At 18, he moved away from his parents to live in Seoultham to lay low. He eventually heard from word of mouth about Mingi's expertise in tech, and went to him for help in building soundwave-muting technology. Mingi did built a device for him, but also encouraged him to embrace his ability and got him to join the Birds of Prey.

>Works as a barista at Nightbrew Cafe

>Lives with Wooyoung in a suite located on Diamond Street, which is just across Felony Alley (16 Diamond Street, #1, 1117)

>Occasionally does singing gigs at bars, and is known by regulars as Lucifer's Bard due to how sinfully addicting his voice is

-He started singing from a young age as he thought it would help to build control of his ability

>Wears a necklace made of a metal that absorbs excess vibrations, allowing him to speak normally without having to constantly watch his volume (takes it off sometimes to fight)

>when fighting crime, he wears a cloth mask made of a special fabric that San brought from Aurora. It allows his voice to pass through without interference while still providing coverage for his identity

>Came off as uptight to the other members at first, but Mingi brought out his real fun-loving and laid back personality

Jung Wooyoung {Kitty}

[23 years old]

(based on Selina Kyle, Catwoman)

Backstory: Grew up in Seoultham and got by with his good looks and street smarts. At 17, he started to date a rich young man who would often abuse and berate him. Soon after, Wooyoung was kicked out of his house by his parents who found him disgraceful, and was stuck with his then-boyfriend who eventually broke up with him and left him alone and penniless. Wooyoung took revenge by breaking into his now ex's penthouse and stealing all his expensive possessions, which was when he developed a knack for stealing. He was living off stolen goods when he met San (who had just arrived on earth) and befriended him. San, being the sweetheart he is, invited Wooyoung to join the Birds of Prey, which Wooyoung, albeit with some hesitation, obliged to.

>Works as a museum curator at the Visage of History Museum

>Lives with Jongho in their suite (rent is paid off mostly by Wooyoung's salary and "souvenirs" from his occasional heists on local robbers)

>His alias, Kitty, is known by locals and authorities as a genderless vigilante who is efficient and quick, as well as extremely slippery and hard to catch

>Used to steal from the wealthy out of desperation to survive and was an infamous cat burglar, but stopped after joining Birds of Prey

>Has very expensive taste and splurges the team's money (not that they mind, though)

>He occasionally ambushes and robs the illegal jewellery smugglers that he hears about from his police friend Changbin and the museum staff

>Knows reader through Taehyun and Yeonjun

>very physically affectionate, often subjects the rest of the team to overly dramatic displays of affection

☆☆☆

SIDE CHARACTERS:

Kang Taehyun (reader's elder brother)

[23 years old]

-travelling archaeologist

-permanent business partners with Yeonjun and Soobin

-wooyoung's business partner (introduced through Yeonjun)

-due to how often he travels, he rarely gets to come back to visit his sister. And since him and his partners work with Wooyoung, reader always sees them doing admin work together when she comes to see him.

-Taehyun wasn't home when their parents died, he had been at a party, making him feel guilty for the death of them. Because of it, he promised to take care of his sister as much as he could, even if it meant being away most of the time to work and pay for bills

Seo Changbin (local police officer)

[27 years old]

-Yeonjun and Wooyoung's good friend

-has taken a liking to Taehyun and is always chatting him up when Taehyun visits with Yeonjun and Soobin

-a loud mouth, but he means well

-occasionally slips up and tells Wooyoung details on his recent cases

-himbo energy

Choi Seungcheol (local police detective)

[28 years old]

-the most renowned detective in Seoultham

-his father was also a detective but he died in the line of work by one of Joker's henchmen

-he started off at a younger age and became an unstoppable force in his work

-He's got plenty of loyal companions and he doesn't mind bending the rules to his favor if it means catching the perp he's chasing

-he doesn't particularly see his actions as morally wrong or that he might be abusing his title. What matters to him at the end is putting the person behind bars permanently

-Has a thing against vigilantes, even if they have truces with the police force (ahem ahem mingi)

Yoo Jeongyeon (reader's good friend)

[20 years old]

-attends Ok-ja Central college, law degree.

-Her and Nayeon share an apartment together in a more protected and enriched part of the city 

-which leads to them asking reader to move in with them, because they're worried for her wellbeing at Halazia apartments

-the more chill of the three friends. she's definitely the mom of the group

-she's always had the best grades, separating her future career and her personal life in the process

-her parents both work as lawyers, so it was in her nature to follow their footsteps. She doesn't feel the pressure to, though

-both her parents and younger brother live in another city

-chose seoultham as it was an unconventional place for her to make her mark, seeing as there was so much crime. 

-her father and Nayeon's father were friends, and due to that they became roommates and then close friends

Im Nayeon (reader's good friend)

[21 years old]

-attends Ok-ja Central college, visual arts degree

-Her eldest sister was a photographer before she passed, which left Nayeon with their sickly mother at the time. She had to take care of both of them for a while

-her mother proceeded to remarry a rich man after her sickness had gone away, said rich man became Nayeon's father

-he encouraged nayeon and promised to take care of her expenses. So then, when she graduated, she immediately applied for Ok-ja Central college at 18

-her step-father moved her into the luxury apartments, making sure she was in a safe part of seoultham

-conventionally enough her step-father also knew Jeongyeon's father, which ended up with them both becoming roommates. That led to them becoming close friends

-Her and Jeongyeon met reader in the college's dining hall when she stepped in between an argument to grab her silverware, completely disregarding the fighting men in favor of eating. They quickly took to befriending her

Kim Chungha/Annie

[28 years old]

-daughter of Halazia Apartment’s Landlady, and helps out a lot with managing the place

-works as a dance instructor 

-lesbian ("OMG GIRL KISSER CHUNGHA 😍😍" -leslie and calli)

-interested in Seonghwa's plants and occasionally visits him at the apartment to ask about his collection

-her and her mother are the only women Seonghwa is comfortable with (besides reader)

-she is SUPER lenient with the people in the building. How much trouble could two college kids cause?

-Chungha is not at all surprised by the amount of friends Mingi keeps up at his apartment, as long as they're not causing too big of a ruckus and trashing the place

-when her mother occasionally comes to visit the apartments, she makes sure to tidy up, as she does leave the place messy due to her packed schedule

Choi Soobin (Taehyun’s close friend)

[24 years old]

-Soobin and the rest of Taehyun's close friends had been around since childhood, having grown up with the Kang siblings.

-Soobin sees reader as if she's his own sibling.

-reader had a crush on him when they were younger 

-works as a historian, partners with Taehyun and Yeonjun a lot for projects and is hence always travelling with them

Choi Beomgyu (Taehyun's close friend)

[24 years old]

-works as an actuary 

-super laid back and fun

-often plays online games with reader even though they live in different cities

-crashes at reader's place whenever he visits (which is often, especially with the amount of travelling he can afford on his salary)

Choi Yeonjun (Taehyun's close friend)

[25 years old]

-works as a geologist, partners with Taehyun and Soobin and travels a lot with them for projects

-the one who originally got Taehyun a partnership with Visage of History Museum (and subsequently with Wooyoung)

-fratboy energy.. but not the nasty type of fratboy yknow

Huening Kai (Taehyun's close friend)

[22 years old]

-popular fashion designer in a bigger city

-founder of Huekai fashion brand (Hongjoong is a fan of him)

-he had a thing for reader when they were younger. And he still happens to have a small innocent child-like crush on her

-a goofy sweetheart, genuinely good hearted like a puppy

[hoshibatake]

FREEDOM – Virtuality and Ideals/Chapter 3

Previous chapter

<At the same time. The wasteland in Subaru’s district>

Subaru: “Fufufu～. I managed to get a supercar♪”

Subaru: “It’s time to start the engine and floor it! Onward, JuSt Go!¹”

Subaru: “Woweee! I’m one with the wind～! Ahahahaha☆”

Subaru: “Ukki～’s district shouldn’t be far from here. I can go check it out, and show off my car while I’m at it♪”

Subaru: “I’ll just look up Ukki～‘s location coordinates. Clickity clack… There.”

<Ten minutes later. A cave in Makoto’s district>

Makoto: “...Ah, my stamina gauge just turned red. I should take a break before I pass out.”

Makoto: “Maybe I can sort out my item box while I wait for my stamina to regenerate. I should use my time as efficiently as possible.”

Makoto: “This cave is rich in resources, so my item box fills up in no time.”

Makoto: “I need to raise my development skill and produce more transport and mining robots.”

Makoto: “But that also requires more resources. This is keeping me busy.”

Makoto: “Fufu, this is one of my strong suits. I can get totally absorbed in it for hours. I’m such a gamer...♪”

Subaru: “Wahooooooo☆”

Makoto: “Whoa! A mechanical monster!?”

Subaru: “Ahaha! It’s me! Just me, Akehoshi Subaru～☆”

Subaru: “Ukki～, what’re you doing in a place like this?”

Makoto: “Oh, it’s just you, Akehoshi-kun… I’m gathering resources. You can find some pretty rare materials around here.”

Subaru: “Oh-hoh, that sounds like a sweet deal～. Lemme join, lemme join～☆” Makoto: “Uhrm～? But isn’t there a cave like this in your district, Akehoshi-kun?”

Subaru: “It’s much faster if we share the workload and mine together☆”

Subaru: “Let me just equip my pickaxe～. Hey-ho, hey-ho...♪”

Makoto: Ahaha, Akehoshi-kun, your avatar just started mining without permission.

Subaru: Your avatar is just laughing and allowing it, saying: “I guess this is fine.” He’s just like the real you. It’s so realistic.

Makoto: Yeah. He even plays the game like I would. It’s baffling.

Makoto: By the way, how did he get that supercar?

Subaru: I’m not sure. My avatar was just fishing, and then it suddenly appeared in his item box.

Subaru: He continued fishing for a while after that, but nothing else like that happened.

Makoto: Really? Hmm. I’m not sure what caused it, but that must be a bug.

Makoto: How fun. I love finding those kinds of exploits.

Subaru: If something like that happens again, I’ll let you know! That ‘me’ looks like he's having lots of fun with that supercar.

Subaru: Especially because I can’t actually drive in real life～. Looking at this makes me want to get my license!

Makoto: I’d love to try driving too, but I’m too afraid of getting into an accident. That’s why I’ve been substituting by playing racing games in arcades.

Subaru: Oh, that sounds fun～. Now I wanna go to an arcade!

Subaru: How funny～, I’m getting excited about playing other games while playing this one. Ahaha☆

Makoto: By the way. If you level up once more, you’ll get to choose a career. Which one are you thinking about picking, Akehoshi-kun?

Subaru: Me? The idol career, of course. Is there any other choice? You’re gonna choose it too, right?

Makoto: Ahaha. Was that a stupid question? Yeah, I’m planning on picking the idol career too.

Makoto: It’s probably not the most effective career to choose, but I’m curious to see what my life as an idol will look like in this world.

Subaru: Yeah, yeah. I can’t wait to see how our avatars’ lives will turn out. An idol’s potential is limitless!

Subaru: I’m sure Hokke～ and Sari～ will pick the idol career as well! I can’t even imagine a reality in which we’re not idols, after all☆

<Several days later. In the real world, Trickstudio>

Mao: ...It’s been a while since we changed our avatars’ jobs to idol, but they’re not doing any idol-like activities at all～

Mao: All my avatar is doing is helping out the local population.

Hokuto: You’re right. My avatar tamed a dinosaur and is using it to clear the forest, while Akehoshi’s avatar is still obsessed with the construction of his theme park.

Hokuto: Although he’s constantly dealing with power outages.

Subaru: Yeah, because a theme park consumes a boatload of energy. Building it was so easy, but maintaining it turned out to be a lot harder.

Makoto: Would you like me to share some of my power with you? I’ll charge a friendly rate♪

Subaru: Whoa. Ukki～, you’re pulling a face like a crafty businessman!

Makoto: Fufu. That’s because operating a power plant requires resources. Exchanging the power for money would keep the transaction as simple as possible, don't you think?

Makoto: In any case. I’m also curious why our avatars won’t engage in idol activities…

Makoto: …but looking at it from the perspective of their feelings and the goal of the game, they might just be prioritizing the development of the city.

Makoto: So once they manage to get their lives on track, I’m sure they’ll start to devote themselves to their idol activities.

Makoto: Each of our areas is starting to show its unique characteristics. I’m curious to see how each of them will end up looking...♪

TL note:

Subaru named his supercar “レッツ号” It’s a pun. The pronunciation is “let’s go”, but the “go” is written with a kanji that is used as a suffix in ship and airplane names. So essentially he called his car the “JS Let’s Go” (so we went for: JuSt Go).

Translated by me, proofread by Altea (@icaruswasthesun on Twitter)

As an aside: I decided to change the word "section" I previously used to "district". I also edited the previous chapter to keep it consistent.

Next chapter

[chimielie]

honeymoon avenue

summary: Suna x F!Reader. can't stop, won't stop, don't know how to stop.

word count: 2k

cw: suggestive at the end. drinking. par-for-the-course bittersweet suna fluff.

a/n: this was supposed to have about two more parts but who has time or energy for that. not me. just know that reader has a Backstory and is freshly brokenhearted in this for context <3

You get in Suna's car the first time you meet him.

It's a vintage convertible, painted a gorgeous deep red, your favorite color. The color of passion and dreams and strawberries at their sweetest, eaten right before they can go bad. Maybe that's what convinces you, the scent of motor oil seducing you over the side as you hoist yourself in, ignoring the door.

Suna watches you arrange yourself elegantly in his passenger seat, tilting your head back, eyes closed, lips parted to release a soft breath. He's distracted by the slight smudge of your lipstick, the shine of your teeth. He doesn't even notice your eyes fluttering open eventually, catching him staring.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Didn't mean to rob you of the chance to hold the door open for me."

"Wasn't going to," he ripostes, and walks around to get into the driver's seat. He uses the door.

You look back at the party both of you are coming from, wondering if anyone else is coming for Suna's offered joyride, but most of your friends have retreated inside. You guess it's pretty cold without the alcoholic flush that's settled over you. It's one of Kiyoomi's parties, anyway, so most of them have their own fancy cars. You weren't born into appalling wealth and you haven't amassed your own yet, instead gathering fragments of fairytales where you find them, out-the-door-by-midnight-and-one-slipper-left-behind-style.

Kiyoomi is lingering outside the revolving glass door, watching you and Suna, and you're grateful for your friend's skepticism even as you lift a hand and wave him goodbye, signaling that he can return to his guests. He's a gracious host, though his parties are selective and always hosted somewhere he doesn't have to clean up personally. He offers you a slight smile that you can see even from this distance, and dips his chin in return. He's your voice of reason right now, has been for the past week at least, and if he didn't trust Suna with your life, you wouldn't be here.

Maybe it's not a smart decision, but it hardly feels like a decision at all; more like the inevitable conclusion of a partner dance, one step to the party, one to his side, quarter turn out to the car. Easy as anything.

The radio comes to life as Suna starts the car, setting a gentle soundtrack for the ride. You tap your fingers along to the tune, though the soft interior material absorbs the sound.

Suna looks over at you when the car is stopped at a light, the color red washing over your face. Your eyes shine with it as you make eye contact with him, holding his gaze. He watches you right through the green light, puts his foot on the gas without looking at the road.

"You get in cars with strangers often?"

"Don't you start," you say, and with a smile on his lips at your tone, he turns straight ahead. "You're the one to blame. You're sober and you offered a drive." You purse your lips. "...You are sober, right?"

"'Course," he says, "I'm not allowed to drink."

"Good. You play volleyball?"

"With the best of them, babe," he responds. "I don't really like drinking, anyway. Sometimes I get high on the off-season."

"Sometimes?"

"Often." He grins, because the way you say it, the way you laugh to say I knew it without words, you sound like you've known him a thousand years already. You might not be smart for getting into his car, but he's getting the sense that you're wise. "You drink."

A statement, not a question. He saw you downing shots like you were trying to burn a bad taste out of your mouth. He could probably light your sweat with a match.

(The image of you, sweaty, glowing under candlelight, your royal blue dress slipping off your shoulders comes to mind.)

"I do whatever," you say, though that hasn't been true since college. Since—

You shiver, and you didn't think he could see you now, but he cranks up the heat, even as the wind is blowing the hair back out of your face.

"Anywhere you want to go?" He asks. "Home?"

You make a face.

"It's so early," you say, and it's eleven at minimum. Oh, yeah, you're his kind of girl. "Take me somewhere beautiful. Drive me into the sunrise."

"Oh, she's a poet," he teases, but you brush him off with a gesture, smiling so that he sucks in a breath as he steers the car sharply into a U-turn. Osamu once told him, after he met his now-wife (and got the balls to ask her out after months), that he'd know after five minutes.

Know what, Suna had asked, sardonic as usual. Osamu had held his shoulders and given him a severe look, demanding to be taken seriously for once.

That you want someone for real. Maybe not for ever. But you'll know that after the first date.

He thinks about taking you to the bridge, but he doesn't know how steady you are on your feet after a few drinks. Not yet, anyway, and he's not keen to learn if you tumble into the gorge.

"Do you live in the area?" He asks, and you nod. He rules out all the destinations, then, nothing touristy.

In the end, he drives in circles around the main streets of the city until he sees the glimmer of lights in a window. You take his jacket, folded in his backseat, without asking.

It's a bar, sort of, a late-night dessert shop serving drinks that probably have more sugar than alcohol.

The front is bursting with flowers, pink and green dominating the setup, but they seat you in a backroom, barely bigger than a booth, and there are a thousand little lights dripping down the walls. You're in higher relief now than in the street, and he drinks in the gold mantling your skin, your hair.

You make him sit down first, then corner him in, sitting next to him instead of across the table. He shifts a few inches away, but you only follow.

"What is that?" He asks, and watches your confused gaze dart around.

"What?" He takes a moment before he explains himself, dipping his head 'till he's close to your bare neck, taking in a deep breath. His own scent is mixed in with yours, clinging to your stolen outerwear.

"Your perfume," he says, both of you holding preternaturally still. "I like it."

"Thank you," your voice drops, barely audible. Under this guise he leans in further still, listening so, so closely. "Are you sniffing me?"

He shrugs and sits up, and now you follow, the face of a sunflower turning towards the sun. "You'll find no shame here."

"Annoying," you snort, and his gaze drops back to your lips. "Does that work?"

"Does what work?"

"Smelling random women. It seems like a move."

"I'd never move in on you," he denies immediately, knowing his smug smile is giving him away. "In fact, you're the one moving in on me. Getting in my personal space—"

"As if that wasn't in my personal space," you interrupt, though he ignores you.

"Sitting next to me in the booth. I'll let you know now, I can't be wooed."

"Oh," you breathe, and seem to wobble a little bit, putting a hand on his shoulder for stability.

"You okay?" He cups your face, trying to check your eyes. Shit, maybe you're more incapacitated than he thought.

"Yes, thank you," you say, expression suddenly sharpening. Before you even open your mouth, he realizes he's been played. Your voice turns low, husky. "I'm not trying to woo you, Suna. I'm trying to seduce you."

He can't help the noise he makes at that, choking on a gasp. He was expecting it, but it’s more than he thought it would be, more than he was ready to feel. You trace a finger around his wrist, his hands still holding your face, following the line of his forearm up and up and up and curling a hand around the back of his neck.

You linger like that, and he watches your eyelids flutter, coming so very close to closing, the way they would if he just leaned forward a fraction. If he would just bring you up to him, taste the fruit, lick the balm off your lips.

"Good things come to those who wait," he says instead, so close to you you think you feel the words burying themselves in your skin. You take in a deep, ragged lungful of air, and when you look away from the smirking slash of his mouth you find something softer in his eyes. Too soft for you, something you could sink into and get lost in and not be pulled out. He won't kiss you, but he's still holding your face.

A retort comes to you—you're tired of being good. But that's a dynamic you don't want to enter. You lie outside the tired dichotomy of good girls, bad girls. You chortle to yourself at the drunken thought.

"You snooze, you lose," you wriggle out of his clutches, the air suddenly very cold when his touch can no longer be felt.

Give me another chance, he almost says, but no matter how the words shape themselves in his mind, they come out pathetic and all wrong.

"Slow and steady wins the race," he counters. "’Less I’ve been disqualified.”

You hum noncommittally and take a slurping sip of the dregs of your drink.

"That was all sugar," you comment eventually, breaking the silence with a little bit of rasp in your voice. "You like it sweet?"

Suna's limbs suddenly feel heavy, sluggish. There's a smear of red on your chin, where a stray drop was wiped away but left a food-dye residue, makes the effect of your face split into a wry grin all the more striking. He blinks stars out of his eyes.

"And a little sour," he whispers, bitterness already coating his tongue. It's not so unpleasant, citrus bursting with the promise of candy on the horizon.

"I can do that," you say, an admission tempered by the way you sweep out of the booth, offering him a genteel hand to help him on his way out too. Sweet-tart, he thinks, and doesn't let you have your hand back until you get in the car.

The sky is the peculiar shade of night between purple and blue, preparing to lighten by dipping into its darkest moment. It could go on forever. Your head lolls back after you tell him your address, too familiar with the streets to bother observing their passing. Instead, you chase the stars.

"Wait here," he tells you when he parks, and you watch him tuck a hand into his pocket as he crosses to open your side with the other. He bows, mocking, for you, and you fake a stumble in turn, falling neatly with a hand against his broad shoulders, chest to chest. His smart mouth fails him again, just like it did before, as he looks at you with burning electrum eyes. The little that's still intoxicated of you wants to ask what color they are exactly.

Your sober self has more pressing questions.

"The walls of my bedroom are the same shade as your car," you murmur, and he looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes, waits for you to make the leap. He's already caught you, after all. "You wanna see?"

"Love to," he says. "Drive me into the sunrise?"

You kiss him before you even cross the sidewalk to the front door. An improvisation in the choreography, you think dizzily, as he dips you down. Waltz up the stairs. Easy as anything, you loop your arms around his neck, let him lay you out on your bed. Take you to the end of the road.

[calcahro]

[WUTHERING WAVES LORE GUIDE]

Explaining Tacet Discords

Short thread I did for Twitter

---

Tacet Discords are sentient beings formed by the residual chaotic frequency energy. They have yellow Tacet Cores on their bodies, and amorphous, ever-changing shape. They instinctly feed on other frequencies to maintain stability and evolve.

These creatures mimic the abilities, shapes, and behaviors of others and are influenced by the types of frequencies they consume. There are 5 known Tacet Discord mimicry types listed on an in-game document: Whisperin, Howler, Tranquilite, Clamorling, and Staticoid. SOUNDS!

To learn these, you can do the following:

Read Tacet Core Drop descriptions, observe the shape of Tacet Core, observe TD behavior/shape (do they mimic a human trait/role, do they behave like an animal, do they have mechanical parts, do they resemble other things on the planet).

For clarity, when I use the term Tacet Core from now on, I am referring to the distinct ones you can see on their bodies. When I say Tacet Core Drop, I am referring to the items in your inventory. No drops in-game for the other 3 mimicry types that aren't Whisperin and Howler.

1) Whisperin: Humanoid mimicry.

These Tacet Discords stand on two feet, can mimic warriors, use instruments, etc. Human traits!

Example: You have Crownless, who mimics a Knight but can never grasp the concept of chivalry and Knighthood, rendering it a ghost of endless warfare.

Whisperin Tacet Discords have a Tacet Core that resemble a star.

Here are the descriptions of the low frequency, middle frequency, and high frequency Whisperin Tacet Core Drops. "Broken star", "Frequency Energy aligns with the hearing range of normal people".

In the Act about Qichi Village, you will come across this Tick Tack Whisperin Tacet Discord, who repeats the words of a young child from village because it absorbed their frequencies. And sorry for the ugly picture my xbox gamebar wasn't cooperating and I was impatient...

2) Howler: Animal mimicry. or just Organic? (I'll come back to this later)

Example: The apes and dreadmane hounds.

To me, Howler Tacet Discord have a Tacet Core that resemble a rose. They are rounder compared to other Tacet Cores.

<NOT SOLID>

3) Tranquilites: Earth? Inorganic?

Example: The prisms that are immune when you attack them with similar frequencies. Any Tacet Discord whose appearance resembles rocks or other earth material.

Tranquilite Tacet Cores appear rigid and layered on their bodies.

Fission Junrock. Description: "A Common Class Tranquilite TD inhabiting mountaineous areas. Often overlooked due to its lava-like shape."

Vanguard Junrock. Description: The same except "lava-like shape" -> replaced with "rock-like appearance".

I did say you can identify Whisperins if they walk on two feet, but that's not the ONLY factor. Stonewall Bracer is not considered Whisperin despite walking on two feet. Description: "An Elite Tranquilite TD found in mountainous areas. They bear huge sizes and inhabit rocks."

What about ROCKsteady Guardian? Looks like its composed of rocks, but the highlight for it is the role it assumes: a Guardian. It attacks and protects like one. (Same with the Chasm Guardian TD). It has the humanoid description, Whisperin Tacet Core, and behaves like a warrior.

Roseshroom has Tranquilite description, yet visible Howler Tacet Core on body. This is why I wrote Earth? or Inorganic? For most Tranquilite they are inorganic, but not if the plant TD are involved. Howlers could also be the organic umbrella and then it would make sense too.

Here are the descriptions of the middle frequency, and high frequency Howler Tacet Core Drops. "Natural cycle of life".

4) Staticoids: TD attached to man-made objects... or (Act 5 with Court of Savantae).

Examples: Mech abomination, Autopuppet scout which is in a discarded vehicle, Traffic Illuminator, Chaserazor/Carapace (the car TD).

The visible Tacet Core on Autopuppet is square-ish like Tranquilites, but not exactly the same. The similar shape can be because man-made objects are also inorganic (DUH). But to me, the Tranquilite Tacet Cores have more stacked layers.

Last time I checked, Mech abomination had a Clamorling drop but a Staticoid description. So keep that in mind... another inconsistent element, I know. The Tacet Core for Staticoid TD looks rigid and square-ish, but not stacked layers like Tranquilite.

5) STUPID Clamorlings. I have yet to find a TD with this classification besides Mech Abomination, but again, Mech Abomination had a Clamorling drop but Staticoid description. You will learn a bit about this TD in Act 5, at the laboratory where it is located.

Anyways that's all I have to say about Tacet Discords for now. I'll come back to this if anything changes down the line and if we get more Tacet Core Drops for the other 3 mimicry types in the future. Whisperin is honestly the most solid out of the rest, bye bye

[lampmanliveblogs]

Vee Headcanons #2

People seemed to like the last post I did, so I figured I’d come up with a few more. You can find the previous post HERE.

(also, I know it says Vee Headcanons, but uh, some of these are more about basilisks in general)

Headcanon #8: Despite their other similarities with snakes, basilisks are actually not cold-blooded, they are endotherms. However, they can absorb heat from their surrounding by basking in the sun or the like in order to preserve energy.

Cold weather do make them lethargic and in the wild, basilisks would go into hibernation during particularly harsh winters when food was scarce.

For this reason, the basilisks being experimented on by the Emperor’s Coven were kept in uncomfortably chilly cells. So even on stomachs full of magic, the subjects wouldn’t have the energy to fight back or try to escape.

To counterbalance that sad image, I want you all to imagine Vee once winter rolls around properly,  refusing to go outside unless she is dressed in five layers head to toe. She prefers to spend the winter months curled up under a blanket (or three) in front of an open fire.

Headcanon #9: Basilisks have the natural ability to mimic pretty much any voice they hear. Not only that, but they can imitate pretty much any sound as well.

You can imagine the hijinks that ensued once the other kids discovered this talent of Vee. How did they discover it, you ask?

Well, they were out walking one day when they encountered this dog behind a fence that just wouldn’t stop barking at them. So Vee barked back. Suffice it to say, it was the funniest thing the kids have ever seen and they spent the entire day finding things for her to imitate. From dogs, cats, various birds and cars to every random sound effect or anime clip Luz could think of. 

One thing lead to another and now, every time she’s surprised, Vee does the Wilhelm scream. Call it the Veelhelm scream.

Headcanon #10: Vee and Gus often had a friendly rival centered around the age-old question of who could make the better cosplay of their favorite Human media. More often than not, they ended up tied more times than not… mainly because their illusions and shapeshifitng was so good that the judges (both voluntary and involuntary) kept forgetting who was who and assigning points wrong.

Eventually, they decided to settle the debate without the use of magic, but rather using common human materials and tools. It did not end well. Gus burned himself on a glue gun and Vee accidentally swallowed a bag of sequins. I don’t know how she managed that, only that she was coughing up glitter for a week afterward.

Headcanon #11: Similar to how fairies from the Artemis Fowl series of books have the Gift of Tongues, basilisks have the ability to understand and speak any language they hear. This ability is magic, though it thankfully only requires a few small sparks to work.

Like most of their abilities, magic and mundane, this evolved in basilisks to better help them infiltrate groups of prey, but it can obviously be used for more peaceful purposes. And at a smaller scale, Vee never has to endure horrendously bad dubs of foreign cartoons. Unlike some unfortunate kids.

Headcanon #12: Basilisks can hold their breath for a… moderately impressive amount of time. The average full-grown basilisk can, without any training, hold their breath for roughly nine minutes. Vee, who is still fairly small can, if she stays still, hold her breath for a staggering twelve minutes. Which is half the current human world record.

Headcanon #13: Luz had told her friends (minus Hunter) about Vee before they were stranded in the Human Realm. So in their conscious minds they knew there was a basilisk living in Luz’ house and that she was not dangerous in any way.T he thing is, it can be very difficult to ignore deeply ingrained instincts yelling ”This is a dangerous predator that will eat you! Run!”

Unbeknownst to them, Vee couldn’t eat them even if she wanted to. Witches produce a chemical in their skin and blood that makes their flesh taste repulsive to basilisks. In the Human Realm, this chemical is found in, of all things, broccoli, making this controversial green taster horribly bitter to Vee. Although Luz already disliked broccoli, so this never raised any suspicions for Camila.

In a somewhat ironic twist, this chemical was very attractive to common Human Realm mosquitos. As you can imagine, the magical witch blood had some… interesting effects on the local mosquito populations.

Headcanon #14: One of the many strange little things and behaviors Camila noticed after the re-vee-lation was Vee’s obsession with garlic. Whenever Camila was using garlic while cooking and Vee walked by the kitchen, she’d stop dead in her track and sniff around. Something about the smell seemed fascinate her on an instinctual level.

It got stranger still as Vee eventually took a few cloves and put them on the nightstand next to her bed. When asked about it, she replied rather sheepishly that she didn’t know why she did it, just that it felt right and that it made her feel safe. ”Well, at least no vampires will bite you in your sleep,” Camila joked and let it be. It’s not like it was hurting anyone.

The one to finally shed some light on this strange behavior was Hunter, who had read a few books on basilisks.

Turns out it was to keep vampires away.

Demon Realm vampires were apex predators that occupied a very similar niche to basilisks, another species of apex predators. This obviously put the two at conflict with each other. In the wild, basilisks would use garlic, which is poisonous to vampires, to mark their territories. They usually kept at least a few cloves in and around their nest to ward of any bloodsuckers stalking the night.

Today, there aren’t a whole lot of ”pure” vampires left in the Demon Realm. However, their legacy lives on into modern time and so does their infamous garlic weakness. You see, up to 46% of the witch population, as well as some demon lineages have vampire somewhere in their ancestry. Thus, garlic is one of the biggest allergens on the Boiling Isles.

Not everyone has a garlic allergy (the entire Clawthorne family, for instance), but it is very common. Gus has a mild intolerance, though it’s not too bad. Willow has got it a bit worse and, much to Luz’ dismay, so does Amity. One piece of garlic bread and it’s no kisses for Luz for the rest of the day.