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#i stole Mar’s tag
georgiapeach30513 · 1 year
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Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
My god, this game is getting old. V05 and Suave can exit the building now 🙄
Anyways, so…did everyone see Charlie Hunnam wearing a Submit shirt and wielding an ax???
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not-from-mars · 1 month
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you can love a character and still admit when they’re wrong. i love the doctor but can acknowledge their flaws (they have none) and can hold them accountable for their wrongdoings (they’ve never done anything wrong in their lives) and call them out for their actions (which are always correct)
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slytherinslut0 · 11 months
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Eighteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, Angst, Fighting/Bickering, Sexual Tension, Dirty Talk, Grinding, Kissing, Teasing, Anger Issues, Slight Degradation.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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In the hushed atmosphere of Dumbledore's office, the venerable headmaster sat regally behind his desk, his piercing eyes gazing over the rim of half-moon spectacles. Mattheo Riddle, an embodiment of stoic strength, stood tall beside you. His usual cool demeanor was marred by a simmering rage, evident in the tight clench of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. You, on the other hand, stood meekly, your nerves palpable, a stark departure from your typically composed self.
"Thank you both for joining me at this early hour," Dumbledore's voice cut through the silence, stern and unyielding. There was no warmth in his tone despite his polite words. "I understand there was an altercation involving Mr. Berkshire and the both of you, Mr. Riddle. Is my understanding correct?"
Mattheo stood like a monolith, his façade unyielding, revealing nothing but a subtle inclination of his head in response. You stole a quick glance at him, a surge of frustration bubbling within you, wishing you could shake him out of his cold indifference, aching to see any sign of remorse or regret just for the sake of Dumbledores scrutiny. The room was saturated with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the distant murmur of students in the corridors, amplifying the tension in the air.
Dumbledore sighed, his disappointment evident as he shifted in his chair, his gaze fixed on both of you. "I must express my profound disappointment," he began, his words measured but stern. "Your actions were deeply troubling. Resorting to extreme violence, regardless of the provocation, is not the way we resolve conflicts here at Hogwarts."
Mattheo's eyes sparked with a hint of irritation, his silence resonating with unspoken defiance, his fists clenched in his pockets. The weight of his anger hung in the air, intensifying your own nervousness. Your palms grew damp, your fingers twitching with unease as they hung anxiously at your sides.
"As for you," Dumbledore's gaze shifted toward you, his expression softening slightly, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "I am beyond relieved to know that you were not hurt, and I must say, you displayed commendable courage in the face of danger," he said, his words carrying the weight of acknowledgment. "You have once again proven yourself as a remarkable and strong young witch. I have no doubt that you will continue to exhibit such qualities for as long as you remain here. There are no reprimands to be given to you, and please, if you need any support at all, my door is always open."
A rush of heat surged through your veins, his words igniting a spark of excitement in your chest that you couldn't suppress even if you tried. With a soft, appreciative smile, you nodded, swallowing hard, acutely aware of the gravity of the situation.
"However," Dumbledore continued, his gaze shifting back and forth between you and the still tense Mattheo. "In light of this incident, Mr. Riddle, consequences must be faced. There is no way around it."
Mattheo's facade remained as unyielding as ever, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. You, on the other hand, felt a mixture of dread and frustration at the injustice of the situation. The fact that Mattheo had to face punishment for defending you didn't sit right with you, stirring a storm of emotions within.
"Given the unique circumstances of this situation," Dumbledore continued, his gleaming eyes locked on Mattheo, "I'm willing to offer you a choice." His voice held a sense of gravity, emphasizing the importance of the decision. "You can either serve detention a few times a week for a month, during which you will also participate in counseling sessions to address your anger management issues...or, I can arrange a Mentorship for you."
This grabbed Mattheo's attention, and admittedly, yours too--your voice penetrating the air before anyone had a chance to even blink. "A Mentorship?"
"Indeed," he affirmed, his gaze shifting between you and Mattheo. "Tom has provided commendable feedback about your capabilities within the guild. I believe this presents a perfect opportunity for you, provided Mr. Riddle is willing to embark on this path. Your role would involve guiding and supporting him as he confronts his challenges. Instead of formal counseling, you will be his coach, helping him navigate his problems and providing the necessary guidance."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before elaborating further. "You'll be required to maintain a detailed log, documenting the situations that provoke his anger and the strategies you employ to help him cope. This log will serve as a valuable resource, aiding us in evaluating his progress and providing targeted support where needed...in order to do so, you would be required to shadow him for a few weeks, outside of class time of course."
His tone softened, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I have faith in your ability to make a difference, young witch. This mentorship holds the potential to not only help Mr. Riddle manage his anger but also foster a sense of understanding and empathy between both of you...you have been the only one thus far who has truly been able to make a difference in helping him achieve success...I'd have never suggested this if I didn't think it would work."
The weight of Dumbledore's words hung in the air, a heavy silence stretching between the three of you. Your gaze shifted to Mattheo, his features etched with a mix of unreadable emotions. Time seemed to slow, the tension in the room palpable. After what felt like an eternity, Mattheo swallowed hard, his throat working visibly as he prepared to speak. His voice, when he finally spoke, was firm, each word carrying the weight of his resolve.
"No," he said, his eyes locking onto yours, a storm raging within them. "I won't do the mentorship."
Your heart plummeted to your feet, a sinking feeling spreading through you like icy tendrils. You were certain you were going to be sick.
"What? Why not?" you blurted out, the words escaping your lips before you could fully comprehend the weight of the situation.
Before Mattheo could respond, Dumbledore's voice cut through the building tension in the room.
"I understand this is a significant decision, Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said, his tone measured. "I will give you until Wednesday, two days from now, to give your answer. Take this time to think about it wisely. My advice for you to take with you as you leave, is that if someone makes you feel, let them. It's a rare gift to be truly understood."
Mattheo's response to Dumbledore's words was an infuriating silence, his lack of acknowledgment felt like a slap in the face. He spun around abruptly, his demeanor so icily distant that it sent a wave of frustration surging through you. Embarrassment clung to you like a second skin, the prickling annoyance intensifying as he navigated the situation with all the subtlety of a raging bull. Despite the tumult of questions and emotions swirling inside you, you stifled them, opting for professionalism in the face of his blatant disregard.
Desperate to maintain your composure, you managed a tight-lipped expression of thanks to Dumbledore, somehow managing to suppress just how fucking furious you were. And as you briskly exited the office, you huffed in frustration, hastening to catch up with Mattheo's brisk strides who had already made it half way down the hallway at this point.
Gasping for breath, you pushed through the bustling crowd of students, your determination fueling your pursuit of Mattheo, his long strides effortlessly outpacing your hurried steps. You called out his name, your voice almost drowned out by the chatter of the passing students. Despite your efforts, he continued to distance himself, his figure becoming a mere blur in the sea of moving bodies.
Driven by sheer persistence, you pushed harder, your determination propelling you forward. It took several minutes of relentless chasing, your voice echoing down the corridor, before he finally came to a halt. His broad frame towered over you, his chest heaving with pent-up anger as he turned to face you, his eyes ablaze with fury.
"What the fuck do you want?" he snapped, his words laced with a potent mix of frustration and hostility, the raw energy practically crackling in the air around him.
"Excuse me?" Your response was tinged with incredulity, your irritation palpable. "Would you like to start over?"
Mattheo ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his jaw clenched in visible annoyance. He scanned the corridor, his eyes darting around as students hurried past, completely oblivious to the tension brewing between the two of you in their midst.
"If you think you're going to change my fucking mind, you're not," he hissed, his gaze locking onto yours with unwavering determination. "Don't waste your breath."
Your frustration flared, your brows furrowing as you glared back at him. "Can't we at least talk about it?"
"No," he retorted sharply, adjusting his tie with a swift motion. "We're just going to fucking fight."
Nervously, you glanced around, ensuring no prying eyes were lingering on the intense exchange between you and Mattheo. The corridor buzzed with the hushed conversations of passing students, each one oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing between you.
"I don't care if we fight, I don't care if you literally yell and swear at me...we always fight, Mattheo, that's what we fucking do." You stepped closer, dropping your voice lower. "We are talking about this. Wether you like it or not."
After a moment of intense silence, the challenge in your eyes seemed to finally register with Mattheo--annoyance flicking across his features before he gave an exasperated nod. He motioned for you to follow him, his tall frame moving purposefully toward an empty classroom nearby. With a swift motion, he popped open the door, gesturing for you to step inside. His eyes scanned the hallway, ensuring no prying eyes were watching the two of you.
As you entered the empty classroom, your mind raced with conflicting thoughts. The sweet, vulnerable boy you had encountered in his dorm room on Saturday night was nowhere to be found. Instead, you faced the hardened, brooding Mattheo, a stark contrast to the person you had glimpsed during your intimate encounter. The disparity left you unsettled, a feeling of confusion mingling with your frustration.
Inside the classroom, the door clicked shut, drowning out the clamor of the bustling corridor outside. With a quick turn, you dropped your bag and confronted Mattheo, your eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and pity, unable to fathom the complexities of the man standing before you.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" you exclaimed, your words slicing through the tense silence. There was no holding back now that you were alone. You searched his dark eyes, desperately trying to decipher the turmoil within him. "I mean, what are you thinking-"
"Stop," Mattheo interrupted sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a dagger as he took a step forward.
"No," you retorted, refusing to back down. "Don't you see-"
In an instant, Mattheo closed the distance between you, his presence engulfing you as he pressed you back against the desk. Your bodies were inches apart, the proximity sending shockwaves through your senses.
"I fucking said stop," he spat, his teeth clenched, his eyes burning with intensity. "Stop looking at me like that, Raven..."
Your heart stumbled in your chest. "What-"
"All I am to you is a fucking tragedy, right?" he snarled, his anger radiating off him in waves. "Just some loser you want to fix, yeah? Take me in as your new little project to impress your future boss...follow me around all day like a fucking dog..."
"N-no-" you stuttered, your pulse thundering in your ears. "That's not what this is about, Mattheo..."
Helping him was a genuine desire, not some shallow attempt to gain favour, but you knew that it'd be hard to convince him of that, considering that he knows just how much you have been dreaming for an opportunity like this. The words caught in your throat, but he didn't relent.
"Bullshit, Raven...I won't be your charity case," he spat, his tone laced with defiance. "I won't fucking do it."
The air swirled with tension as he stood, a formidable figure, glaring down at you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. His words hung between you, heavy with accusation and resentment. He shook his head, a frustrated growl escaping his lips, and raked a hand through his disheveled hair. With a defeated sigh, he moved to a nearby chair, slumping down into it, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Caught off guard by the sudden intensity of his anger, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. The silence stretched, pregnant with unspoken emotions. Slowly, you found your voice, laced with a mixture of frustration and genuine concern.
"Who did that to you?" You said, fingers trembling at your sides. "Who fucked you up so bad, emotionally and mentally, that you've completely shut down anyone who tries to fucking help you?"
"Give me a bloody break," he hissed, bitterness dripping from his words as he rolled his eyes dismissively. "Romanticize me all you wish, Raven, but the devil wrapped in silk is still the fucking devil."
Your chest tightened at his cutting words, a potent blend of hurt and frustration surging within you. Desperate to maintain your composure, you ran a trembling hand through your own hair, now, attempting to quell the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.
"Why are you being like this?" you shot back, your voice quivering with a mix of anger and vulnerability. "Is it because you got what you wanted from me, and now you're reverting to being a complete asshole?"
"Don't even fucking go there," Mattheo's anger surged, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous intensity, his tone dripping with venom. "I never forced you to fuck me...that was completely your choice..."
Your heart plummeted to the floor at his words, your stomach twisting into a knot so tight it felt like it might suffocate you. A choked sound escaped your lips, barely audible as you croaked out, "Oh, gods..." there was a brief pause before you managed to find your voice again. "It was all an act? Is that what it was, Mattheo?"
Mattheo grumbled, once again rolling his eyes in exasperation as his head fell back, his gaze fixated on the ceiling.
"Not an act, Raven," he replied, his voice weary. "I meant everything I said, but this is who I am, don't you fucking dare act like you didn't know that already."
At his words, you were fucking stunned. A tempest of emotions raged within, a maelstrom of desire and frustration, adoration and resentment, crashing against the walls of your heart. Adoration burned hot, entwined with bitter resentment, all while desire surged like a wildfire, intertwined with seething fury.
The tumultuous whirlwind of feelings left you teetering on the edge of reason, torn between the impulse to hurl something at him and the overwhelming urge to throw yourself into his arms.
With a long, trembling sigh, you expelled some of the tension from your lungs, your eyes fixated on him--his tousled brown hair, those mesmerizing brown eyes, the sharp contour of his jawline, and those strong, powerful hands that made you weak in an instant. He was complex, complicated; Gods, so fucking complicated, but he was yours.
"I should get my damn head examined for being associated with you," after a moment, you shook your head, a bitter grumble escaping your lips. "Gods, I hate you sometimes."
Mattheo's eyes sparked with a devilish amusement at your words, his demeanor oozing arrogance that set your body ablaze with a single glance.
"Oh, you hate me, huh?" he sneered, his voice dripping with provocation. He leaned back, lounging in his chair, his legs spreading wider as he patted his lap. "Why don't you come sit on my lap and tell me all about it, baby? I'll drill that hatred out of you real fucking good..."
"Grow up, Mattheo," you said, trying to suppress the wildfire of lust that he awakened in your lungs. Playfully rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the desk. "Don't try to seduce me out of discussing your insanity issues."
"Yeah, that's what I thought Raven," Mattheo huffed, his amusement evident. "You don't hate anything...isn't that why my name never seems to leave your filthy little mouth, hm?"
"Oh, I'd say your name leaves my mouth quite often, actually..." you shot back, smirking. "Mostly when I'm cursing you for being the insufferable asshole that you are, just like right now."
Mattheo's eyes narrowed, the tension in the room escalating by the second. "Hate me all you want, princess, but you're always gonna' love how I fuck you."
You let out an exasperated huff, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. "That sounds a lot like a challenge, Mattheo."
"Can't be a challenge without any competition, baby," his voice was low and husky, his confidence sending shivers down your spine. "Consider it a fucking promise."
Releasing a breath of amusement, you stood up straight, and with a deliberate, almost hypnotic sway of your hips, you began to close the distance between you and Mattheo. His eyes, dark and alluring, drank in every curve of your body as you approached, watching as you delicately pulled your lip between your teeth, a gesture that spoke volumes. Your eyes trailed down his form and then back up, locking onto his with unwavering intensity. His tailored uniform strained against his strong shoulders, accentuating the raw power beneath, his legs spread confidently, and his arm casually draped around the back of the chair as that devilish smirk of his played on his mouth.
Pausing right in front of him, you leaned in, the soft scent of his cologne filling your senses. Your fingers, like a whisper, brushed against his lips, tracing the contours as if seeking entrance to the mysteries he held within. Your voice, barely more than a sultry murmur, hung in the charged air between you.
"There are secrets in here," you purred, your touch sending shivers down his spine, "and I want them out."
Mattheo's breath hitched, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips as he fought to restrain himself. His eyes, dark and stormy, were fixated on you with a hunger that was impossible to ignore.
"Fucking hell..." he breathed, his voice laced with desire and frustration, "I'll tell you anything you want to fucking know, Raven, as long as you let me bend you over this desk right quick..."
Your entire body swarmed with lust, an insatiable need that coursed through your veins. Without a second thought, you climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found your waist, pulling you against him. A sigh escaped your lips, head falling back in surrender as his lips trailed along your jawline. However, determination flickered in your eyes, a fierce intensity that matched his own desire.
"I want answers first, Mattheo," you breathed, your voice a sultry whisper, "then you can have me. Gods, you can have me anywhere you fucking want."
Mattheo growled, his hips instinctively surging against your core as he struggled to contain his desire. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he whispered, his voice husky with need, "I want you everywhere, Raven...against the wall, over the desk, on a fucking table in the Great Hall..."
"Shit..." you breathed, your words a desperate plea, quickly losing yourself in his fervor. "Then you better get talking, Matty...don't you want this? Don't you want me to be able to follow you around all day without drawing suspicion? We'd be able to hide in plain fucking sight..."
"No," he groaned, his fingers digging into your hip bones, his touch a blend of desire and restraint. "I mean, yes, but fuck, no...you'll be too close, it'll be too much..."
"Too close?" Your brows furrowed, your frustration giving way to determination as you buried your hands in his hair. "What does that even mean?"
"A man I called my best fucking friend put his goddamn hands on you...he tried to fucking force himself on you...if you hadn't come around, if you'd never known me, that never would have happened...I will only bring bad things into your fucking life...I can't risk it..." his voice was low now, resonating deep within you like a thunderous echo. "You're my only fucking weakness...they'll start to notice it...someone will try to hurt you to get to me...and I can't--"
Cutting him off, your lips crashed onto his, a desperate, passionate kiss that silenced his words, your body molding against his, fingers gripping him with a fierce intensity. In that moment, words ceased to matter, and all that remained was the raw, unspoken connection between you, a bond forged in defiance of the world around you. You understood his concern, you understood his fears, but everything else be damned, you knew you'd go through fucking hell and back if it meant you could hold his stupid hand.
"I'm your weakness, huh?" you murmured, pulling back, your fingers delicately tangled in his curls, your hips moving provocatively against his, noting the subtle clenching of his jaw. "Guess it's time to prove how strong you really are, big boy..."
"Raven," Mattheo groaned, his dark, smoldering eyes fixated on your lips, his breath hitching with desire. "Keep grinding that tight little cunt on me like this and I promise I'll show you just how fucking strong I can be..."
"It's tempting, I'll admit..." you whispered, your voice a sultry murmur, slowing the movement of your hips as you took a sharp, shuddering breath to compose yourself. "Look, I understand your concerns, and I won't tell you what choice to make, but it'd mean the fucking world to me if you reconsidered...I don't know about you, but I'm not entirely satisfied with only seeing each other twice a week during tutoring..."
"Mm." Mattheo's low hum resonated against your skin, his lips trailing a path of warmth over the sensitive flesh of your neck. "Addicted to me already, aren't you?"
"Shamelessly," you confessed, your lips brushing against his ear, your voice a sultry whisper. "Mostly to that talented tongue of yours, though. The rest of you, well, I suppose I could manage without..."
"You wound me," he chided, his voice laced with mock hurt, his teeth lightly nipping your earlobe in a teasing manner. "Can't tell if you fucking love or hate me, Raven...don't think I've ever met someone like that..."
Your muscles tightened in response, his strained tone drawing a low sigh from your throat. "Does that bother your precious ego, Riddle?"
"It bothers something, Raven, but definitely not my ego," he growled, his grip on you tightening possessively. "You drive me fucking crazy, did you know you got that effect?"
"Hm, let me check," you pondered, a playful smirk gracing your lips as you smoothly slipped out of his lap. His fingers reluctantly released their hold on your hips, his groan of reluctance filling the room. "Yeah, I did."
"Where the hell are you going?" he grumbled, his hand adjusting his straining arousal in a futile attempt to ease the tension. "You said if I told you-"
"I know what I said, but I lied." you retorted, a nonchalant shrug emphasizing your indifference as you moved toward your bag, slouched on the floor. Your hidden smirk played on your lips. "Apologies, Riddle, but I'm already late to meeting Emily."
"You're unbelievable," Mattheo stood, his eyebrows raised in disbelief at your audacity. "Just wait until I get you alone later, princess," he huffed, his voice saturated with a promise that sent shivers down your spine. "You're going to regret this."
A rush of excitement coursed through you, the sincerity in his tone electrifying. "Is that a threat?"
"Consider it yet another promise," he replied, stepping closer, his hand gently tilting your head back to meet his intense gaze. "You know what they say, Raven...little girls that tease, end up on their fucking knees."
He leaned down, his presence enveloping you as he brushed his lips over yours in a feather-light kiss, sending a tingling sensation through your body. The delicate touch lingered for a heartbeat, a fleeting moment of intimacy, before he released you, stepping aside with a subtle gesture, allowing you to head toward the door.
"I look forward to it, then," you grinned, your heart thundering in your chest as you made your way past him. "And I must say, I genuinely do hope you change your mind, Riddle...it would be such a shame if you were occupied with constant detentions and therapy sessions, wouldn't it? I might get terribly bored…most likely would have to find someone else to entertain myself with…”
Almost immediately after the words left your lips, Mattheo's fury exploded in his eyes, a storm of anger and frustration. He lunged for your arm, but you slipped past him with agility, your adrenaline-fueled speed giving you the advantage. With a swift movement, you whipped open the door, leaving him seething in your wake, his voice echoing with pent-up rage as he called after you, his words lost in the distance as you made your escape.
————-
Chapter nineteen->
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matan4il · 8 months
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Update post:
The biggest thing everyone's talking about on the news in Israel right now is the finding of a MASSIVE Hamas compound underneath UNRWA's main headquarters in Gaza, and finding proof that UNRWA were supplying the compound with electricity and internet services, supply which allowed Hamas to develop their intelligence, used during the Hamas massacre among other things. When Israel published the finding of the compound, the head of UNRWA claimed they found nothing up until October, and weren't able to check anything since. Israel responded by pointing out that a compound so developed most likely took no less than ten years to dig and build, and that UNRWA was repeatedly told that Hamas is operating under its headquarters, but chose to ignore this. What I think is most telling is a tour taken by an Israeli journalist in the compound, where they showed him that the server farm in the Hamas compound is found directly under the server farm of UNRWA, and that cables from the latter were running down into the terror tunnel compound directly beneath it (source in Hebrew, here's a vid in English giving viewers a tour of the compound, I'll attach the vid itself below, too). Something like that doesn't happen by coincidence, and without the knowledge of those in the server farm above groud. Some of the cables were also cut in the UNRWA server farm, like someone realized the IDF was coming, and tried to hide the link between the two server farms. As one officer pointed out, if you're an innoncent, interenational humanitarian aid organization, you have no reason to cut the cables of your own server farm, or remove the name tags from the doors of the rooms inside your headquarters. You only do that if you have something to hide.
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Israel's army has been fighting Hamas in all of Gaza, except the southern city of Rafiach (Rafah in English). There are a lot of Gazans there, who have been evacuated from other zones. There's also 4 Hamas regiments there, which means Israel will have no choice but to fight there. So the only question is how to fight in that city, in order to minimize the harm to the civilian population. There are reports that Israel's Prime Minister has asked the IDF to present plans both on how to fight Hamas in Rafah, and how to evacuate the civilians.
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In that context, I got to hear a radio interview with an Israeli minister, who used to be the head of Shabak (Israel's equivalent of the FBI). When asked about the US warning for Israel not to fight in Rafah during the upcoming month of Ramadan, Avi Dichter said that it has never been a month during which Muslims have not fought in wars. In fact, in 1973 the Egyptians and Syrians (with soldiers from even more Arab countries fighting alongside them) chose to attack Israel on Oct 6, despite Ramadan that year starting on Oct 4, causing the war to be known in the Arab world as "The Ramadan War." More than that, in Israel Ramadan is always a time of peak alert, because so many terrorist attacks are carried out during it (here's an example from Mar 2023, when Hamas was encouraging individuals to carry out terrorist attacks during Ramadan, and here's another from 2022). Dichter suggested that if Muslims can carry out terrorist attacks during Ramadan (and it has happened outside Israel, too), the war in Gaza which was started by Hamas can continue during it.
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On an Israeli TV news panel, someone shared the estimate that over 100,000,000 dollars (one hundred million dollars!) is the sum of money that Hamas made just since the start of the war from selling to the civilian population the humanitarian aid that was allowed into Gaza, and which Hamas stole from the Gazans (more than once, by using violence).
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This is Chagit Rein.
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She lost her son Benaya in the Second Lebanon War, back in 2006. I got to hear an interview with her following the fact that during this war, she decided she would try to visit the shiva (the mourning week following a burial) of every fallen soldier. According to her, she has so far visited the families of 400 soldiers killed on Oct 7 or since. "If they see me, then it's living proof that there can be a life alongside the loss. That was our kids' last will and testament. They died so we could live. So we have to live." When asked what she's asked most often when she visits the families, she said it was what she did first after her son's shiva. "My other son was being drafted into the army, so the first thing I did was to accompany him in that." She was asked whether there were moments when she was overwhelmed herself. She replied that she's seen wounded soldiers making incredible effortrs to come to the shiva of others who were killed, to offer their families some comfort. In one case, an injured soldier recognized her, and told her that it was thanks to her son Benaya that he was an officer in the armored forced. He tried to hug her, but was at first unable to get up or reach her from the stretcher he was on. Chagit recounted that she tries to make sure her visits would be about the families she's conmforting, not about herself, but that's when she broke down and cried.
This is Doctor Elai Chogeg-Golan with her husband Ariel and their baby daughter, Yael. On the right, their house in kibbutz Kfar Azza.
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On Oct 7, due to Hamas' massive rocket attack, Elai was inside the bomb shelter in her home with her family from 6:30 in the morning, when Gazan civilians got in at around 1 in the afternoon. The Gazans tried to get the family to come out, but it wouldn't. Then, those invaders set the house on fire, probably thinking that would force the family out. Instead, Elai and the family tried to keep themselves safe using water. At some point, she recounts they even fought face to face with the Gazans, who tried to beat them with sticks from the outside. She said she managed to grab a stick, and beat them back. These Gazans then threw in two gas balloons into the burning house. Elai says that most of the burns she sustained were from the fire ball that that created. At some point, the Gazans moved on, and that's when the family got out, because the whole place was on fire, they were choking from the smoke, and even the roof collapsed. They hid nearby, but then baby Yael lost consciousness, and the parents decided to try and get out of the kibbutz. At the entrance, they met soldiers who helped get them to a hospital. Elai had severe burns on over 60% of her body. She was in a coma for 53 days, but incredibly, they all survived.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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Seven Sentence Sunday
Thank you for the tag, @honeybee-taskforce @welcometololaland 💝
(Yes I'm aware this is more of a so much more than seven sentences Sunday but I couldn't decide where to cut this lol)
cw; blood
This is from the next chapter of my TK and Sophie fic -
2011 -
“Don’t listen to him,” Sophie said as soon as their dad was out of earshot. “It’s so not a big deal”.
TK fiddled with his ear anxiously. “It’s a hell of a thing to do for the jackass who stole your money and ruined your birthday, Soph”.
“You didn’t ruin my birthday,” his sister shrugged. “When we were on the roof, you woke up. If you hadn’t… well, that would have ruined it”.
“Still”. TK sighed, sidestepping that entirely in favor of saving his self-loathing for later. “I don’t want you to get in trouble on my behalf. I love you for doing that,” he added. “But… you getting into trouble isn’t going to get me out of trouble. And it won’t get me home any faster”.
“I know that, stupid,” Sophie rolled her eyes, keeping to herself the not-so-itsy-bitsy part of her that did hope if she reclaimed her spot as the Bad Child, then they would let TK come home early. “But I can’t listen to people say shit about you that isn’t true”.
“They’re gonna say it anyway,” TK told her. “I was hearing it when I was still there. And I don’t want your hands to look like that because of me,” he said as he looked at her heavily bandaged knuckles.
“These?” Sophie snorted as she looked down at her hand. “I don’t even need these. They’re just cause Dad overreacted”.
“Not true, first of all,” Owen said as he rejoined them.  “Second of all, this happened when your sister was in class”.
“Daddy, you think you’re making too big a thing of this?” Sophie asked. “I mean, you were young once. Probably. At some point”.
“I don’t think it’s possible to make too big a thing of this, Sophie Soph,” Owen replied. “And I did things as a kid. But they weren’t mash-your-knuckles-on-someone-else’s-until-they-bleed… things”.
“Bloody knuckles?” TK guessed. “Soph, you were playing bloody knuckles in class?”
“How do you know what that is, TK?” Owen asked.
TK nibbled on his lip. “I may have… dabbled in it once or twice after school”.
“Told you it wasn’t just me”. Sophie preened. “Besides, it’s Ms. Christensen’s own stupid fault. She said she wasn’t going to put all the stupid kids in one group anymore when we worked on vocab words, because we don’t get anything done”.
“You aren’t stupid, Soph,” TK and Owen said in stereo.
“But she put me and Carter in the same group anyway,” Sophie continued, undeterred. “And Micah and Spencer were writing out definitions and Carter asked if I wanted to play bloody knuckles, what was I supposed to say?”
“I really think a simple no would have been good,” Owen answered.
“Did you win?” TK asked.
“TK!” Owen admonished.
“I did”. His sister happily nodded. He flinched first. And his knuckles started bleeding way before mine did”.
“Soph, I think that’s a game where there are no winners,” Owen told her.  
No pressure tagging - I tag @sznofthesticks @anewkindofme @carlos-in-glasses @kiankiwi
@lemonlyman-dotcom @heartstringsduet @actualalligator @chaotictarlos
@liminalmemories21 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @literateowl @terramous
@nancygillianmvp @chicgeekgirl89 @firstprince-history-huh @reyestrandd
@paperstorm @bonheur-cafe @carlos-tk @herefortarlos
@alrightbuckaroo @snowviolettwhite @the-flaming-nightmare @lochnesswriter
@fallout-mars @vineofroses @theghostofashton @goodways
@eclectic-sassycoweyes @ladytessa74 @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry
@jesuisici33 @mikibwrites @doublel27 @basilsunrise
@rmd-writes @celeritas2997 @safeaswrites @decafdino
@thebumblecee @sugdenlovesdingle @birdclowns @welcomehometk
@tellmegoodbye @mooshkat @tailoredshirt @thisbuildinghasfeelings and anyone else who wants to do it - open tag 🫶
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serpentsillusion · 5 months
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|| Aneira's Gift ||
{🎨 tag at the bottom of post} A special thank you, and happy trip around the sun for my friend @rhewart because HAHA! You knew I was planning an art piece, but you NEVER expected a oneshot also!! Mwaahaha! *Insert evil laughter here* 💚 plus I learned how to use the glitter effect on my art app. 🤣
Word count: 1,649
✨Enjoy ✨
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The sky was a deep shade of blue, untouched by the encroaching fingers of smog that usually marred its beauty. Birds sang in perfect harmony, their melodies drifting lazily on the warm spring breeze. It was a day much like any other at the end of their 7th year, except for one small detail: today happened to be Aneira's 18th birthday. The date was May 17th.
The Slytherin common room was absent of the bustling students milling about, chatting animatedly or engrossed in books. A crackling fire burned merrily in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls. The room itself was a study in emerald green, from the cold stone beneath their feet to the old historic windows bordering the underwater walls.
Aneira, clad in her favorite casual dark ensemble and dark red hoodie that Jess got for her birthday last year, sat at a couch near the fireplace, lost in thought. Her wand intricately tucked in her disheveled bun. She didn't even notice the three figures creeping up behind her. Suddenly, Jess, Sebastian, and Ominis burst into song, startling her out of her reverie. "Surprise!" they shouted in unison, grinning widely.
"Oh my gods, you guys!" Aneira squealed, her face flushing with excitement. "I can't believe you guys right now! Haha! This is the best surprise!" She threw her arms around Jess, then Sebastian, and finally Ominis, hugging them tightly.
As they pulled away from the hug, Jess gestured back to the couch, where a couple bottles of fire whiskey and a tray of glasses awaited them. "I smuggled these in myself! We thought you'd want something to help you unwind after a long day of classes," she explained, pouring each of them a glass. "Here's to another year around the sun!"
"Lechyd Da!" Aneira echoed, clinking her glass against each of theirs. She took a sip, savoring the warmth that spread through her chest as the smooth liquid slid down her throat. "This is amazing, guys. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome," Ominis said, grinning. "We figured you deserved something special."
Sebastian leaned in closer, his dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, you know how Jess and I always talk about our grand adventures, sneaking off into the night?" he began, eyebrows raising cheekily, setting off a round of knowing laughter from the three of them. "Well, we decided it's about time we include your devilish mind in some of those exploits."
Aneira's brow furrowed in confusion. "Woah, What exactly do you mean exploits Sebastian?"
"Not "those" exploits Aneira! Haha! You know..." Jess chimed in, her hand waving about the air, "He means like that time we snuck into the restricted section of the library and discovered that ancient scroll." Aneira shook her head, her confusion growing. "Or how about when we charmed Professor Howin into letting us pet a baby unicorn?" She still looked unsure. "Oh, come on," Ominis groaned, "you must remember that time Sebastian and Jess stole the headmaster's prized pocket watch and wore it for a whole week!"
Sebastian grinned impishly, "Oh, that's right, you were out of the country to Wales that week." Aneira's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh thanks the gods, but also, rude that you guys would almost get yourselves killed, or expelled without me, but you seriously mean, you want to include me in on your adventures too?" she asked, a sparkle of excitement starting in her emerald eyes.
"Uh hell yeah dude, Of course! We need your expertise and skill so we don't die!" Jess replied, clapping her hands together covering her mouth while she giggles. "We thought it was about time you joined in on the chaos. You've been hanging out with us for long enough now."
"HELL YEAH!! I'M IN!" Exclaimed Aneira, wiggling her hands and legs and excitement.
Sebastian grinned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small leather pouch. "As a welcome gift," he said, tossing it to her, "we got you this." Aneira caught the pouch, feeling its weight in her hand. "It's a disguise kit, and a necklace Jess made herself." Sebastian explained, "So you can blend in better during our escapades."
"Also the necklace looks pretty dope." Jess added, her face turning shades of red from the alcohol. "What? I'm proud of myself you guys. Look at that craftsmanship! OH oh! I also enchanted it with my very own jinx I created. It's called Protego Infinitum, which will automatically cast stupify for approximately 15 minutes during a duel of any kind. It protects you from any curse, hex, or spell... Including Avada Kadavra... Don't ask how I know how to do that." Jess stated cheekily.
"What?!" Exclaimed Aneira "How is that even possible?!"
"Magic, apparently!" Jess stated back, Laughing. "Also, Garreth helped, and he's been asking about you too, since you two went to the Yule ball together." She added.
Ominis laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, you're going to love it. We've gotten into some pretty crazy situations us three, and I mean, some of them, we couldn't have even gotten out of without Jess's quick thinking." He paused, glancing at Jess with a smile. "Not that I'm biased or anything. Sebastian and I have something similar on us too."  Sebastian and Ominis in unison pull out similar looking pendants from their pockets.
Jess waved away his words with a small smile staring at her mouth. "Ominis hush! I can't have my three favorite people just wandering around unprotected, and I'm just glad we can count on you, too, Ominis and your Father for saving our butts on more than one occasion," she said. "And Aneira, you've already proven yourself more than capable at defending yourself, plus let's not talk about how you got to Hogwarts to begin with. I mean, let's not forget about that time you also talked your way out of detention for all of us by sweet-talking the headmaster."
Aneira's face flushed at the memory. "That was a very close call, I sneaked into his office and spiked his pumpkin juice with a concoction Garetth and I made up before all four of us had to meet in his office" she said, taking another sip of her fire whiskey. "But you guys have always been there for me, and I'm so grateful for that. I can't wait to start adventuring with you." She looked from one of them to the other, her emerald eyes shining with excitement. "So! Where do we start?"
The air was thick with laughter and the warm glow of the fireplace. The room was alive with the sounds of their voices, each story adding a new layer to the tapestry of their friendship. Aneira, Sebastian, Jess, and Ominis sat in the plush couch of the Slytherin common room, their bodies leaning into each other as they shared an unforgettable moment on Aneira's birthday night. The fire whiskey in their glasses flickered with each movement, casting dancing shadows across their faces, accentuating the hollows of their cheeks, the arch of their eyebrows.
Jessica, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief, leaned over to Aneira and whispered, "Do you remember that time we snuck into the forbidden forest and found that ancient tome on dark curses?" Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, sending a shiver down Aneira's spine.
Aneira grinned, her green eyes alight with the memory. "Oh, Jess! Of course I remember." She reached across her lap to squeeze Jess's hand. "That was the night we first discovered what we could REALLY do to the Ashwinders, Ranrok's loyalists, and the Dark Wizards." She paused, her gaze drifting off into the distance, lost in thought. "I'll never forget the feeling of that ancient magic coursing through my veins."
Sebastian chuckled, his voice deep and gravelly. "And the look on Professor Hecate's face when she found out we'd been in there? Priceless." He took a sip of his fire whiskey, the liquid burning its way down his throat that he was all too used to. "She's never forgiven us."
Ominis nodded in agreement. "No, she hasn't, but you know what they say, 'with great power comes great responsibility'." He glanced around the room, his expression turning solemn. "And with great friends, comes even greater adventures."
Jess wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned forward, a contented smile on her lips. "I'm so glad we found each other, you three. You've changed my life in ways you'll never know." She took a sip of her fire whiskey, the heat spreading through her body. "Here's to many more birthdays together, Aneira. May they be as magical and adventurous as this one...Lechyd Da!" Their glasses clinked together, the sound echoing through the common room as they toasted to their friendship, their futures, and the limitless possibilities that lay before them.
The four of them sat there, laughing and sharing stories, their plans for the future growing more elaborate by the minute. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room as the night wore on. Eventually, they began to discuss specific ideas, each one more outrageous than the last. They talked about sneaking into the restricted section of the library to steal ancient artifacts, charming their way into exclusive parties, and even plotting a daring heist to steal the headmaster's pet dragon. Talk of future plans after graduation also surfaced, mingling with the atmosphere of the room.
As the alcohol flowed, their plans became more grandiose, their laughter louder, and their camaraderie stronger. It was as if the four had been friends for years even before Jess and Aneira started classes at Hogwarts, bound not only by their shared experiences but also by their shared desire for adventure and mischief. And as they finally began to wind down, Aneira knew that this was only the beginning of an incredible journey with her now life long friends.
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Happy Birthday Aneira! 💚✨
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nowandthane · 8 months
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OC Name Meaning
got tagged by @sillyliterature to do this! thank you <3
Rules: google and post the meaning of your OC'S name (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! bonus if you can find something for their last name too.
this is gonna be long i have a LOT of children 🧍
Sarani Shepard: meaning protector, guardian or path (gotta be honest, i knew about the first two and it's why i chose the name, but the third is a surprise to me when i googled again for this). I already kinda HCed Sarani (who had a different placeholder name at the time) as being part Indian so I was intentionally finding an Indian name that would fit. her LIs call her Rani sometimes which means 'queen' and 'joyous song' and that second one feels especially fitting as she doesnt let anyone else use her first name, and she is very happy to have people she loves and trusts 🥺
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Mars Shepard: my new child i just made last night whose face isnt done yet xD got the idea of using space names from @xoshepard (thank youuu <3) and I went with Mars because roman god of WAR and also gender fuckery 😌 she's gonna be romancing Kaidan!
Nayima Surana: means gentle, delicate, tenderness. this is kind of hilarious because while that's how she starts off being her experiences have hardened her a lot 😔 i dont have a pic for her im gonna remake her when (if) i ever get back to playing dragon age. also goes by Naya (renewal, fresh). we can say that shot of darkspawn blood renewwed her and freshened her up!
Riyaad Hawke: my canon hawke is garrett riyaad is a random dude the hawkes adopted dfjkghk. name means 'beautiful garden'. if you cant tell, i almost stole his name for myself xD
Bintang: 'bintang' is the Malay word for star
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Arianwen Trevelyan: means silver, blessed. she's an andrastian and blessed made sense because of that, and her hair is like blue-silver so yeah (silver when she was born, darkening to blue, was the canon i made for her i believe)
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Bronwen Trevelyan: similar meaning, fair/white and blessed. she's aria's twin so it made sense.
Veara Lavellan: my lavellan used to be Valora and pretty much just chaged her name for veara. the most i found on the internet is that it means 'special' lmao
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anyways i do have more OCs around here somewhere but i'll stop there kjdfhgkd
no pressure tags: @mxanigel @xoshepard @poetikat @sweetmage @azurechicken @malabadspice @illusivesoul @westernlarch @menacingmetal <3 <3 <3
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radioactivepeasant · 9 months
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Snippets: Free Day Thursday
Warnings for this oneshot: some blood/gore/horror elements, implied unethical experiments, brief description of a panic attack. The ----- line will mark the end of that scene. TWs will be tagged below.
(Also I stole some fake swear words from Star Wars because they still roll off the tongue well)
"Awww crap. No no no no-"
Jak looked away from the arguing Samoses to see Daxter peering up at the next level of the prison. The one he'd been trying not to think about.
"What?"
Daxter looked back at him with a terrible expression. "...Praxis doesn't have the kid, right? He'd be bragging all over the city about it if he had the kid."
Jak swallowed, but it felt like there was a rock in his throat. "He'd never shut up about it if he'd hurt Mar."
His own voice was shaky a Daxter's fear spread to him.
Not the kid, not Mar, please please, anything but that-!
"Then he got somebody else's kid. Or something else's kid." Daxter climbed up to the pipes between floors and pointed to a sickly glow. "And uh...it didn't like the guards much."
Jak was through the hole in seconds, even as every cell in his body told him that he didn't want to look. Didn't want to know what couldn't be unknown. He gagged as the stench of blood and meat hit him like a wall. This...this wasn't the sweaty antiseptic smell of the Chair.
Two dead KG lay crumpled on the floor, barely recognizable as human beneath the clotted gore obscuring what little remained of their faces. Deep furrows had been clawed into the skin, deep enough to expose bone. The stench of offal did not quite cover the acid pulse of dark eco. Jak could guess what kind of being had inflicted these wounds.
Had Praxis continued the experiment after he'd escaped? Had he finally been successful?
Jak’s stomach lurched as he recognized a third body -- or the uniform and rank insignia hanging in tatters, at least -- slumped against an open tank of some kind. Ignoring the whispered shouts of Samos down below, Jak gingerly stepped over the corpses to examine the tank.
Subject 0401-B its label read, 304 days gestation.
Bile burned in Jak’s throat.
0401 was the number they'd applied to him in the DWP. What was 0401-B? What had they started growing ten months ago?
Wet, smacking noises drew his eyes unwillingly to the dark space beneath an examination table. A trail of dark blood painted a streak all the way to...something's...hiding place. In and out of the mess, tiny footprints peppered the floor. They were no bigger than the Kid's.
Jak coughed and gagged, desperately holding back what little was in his stomach. He didn't want to look, but he did.
Something was hunched over beneath the table, covered in the leathery scales of a metalhead. A long, spiked tail twitched restlessly as shark-black eyes stared back at Jak emotionlessly. The figure had the proportions of a small child, almost like Mar -- thick, stubby limbs, a large head with soft, round cheeks -- but there the similarities ended. Ghost-white hide peeked out beneath cracked and flaking red-brown stains that covered the majority of 0401-B's face and torso. It cocked its head like a little bird, examining Jak, and slit nostrils flared.
"Oh my gods," Jak heard himself whisper, as if from miles away. "No no no no-"
The thing made an ungainly hop towards Jak, coming further into the light. A mane of pale gray hair, matted and tangled, fell across a narrow back, and an all too familiar pair of tiny black horns rose from the thing's head.
It was Dark Jak. It was a monster. A demon.
It was a child.
"What the hell?" Daxter croaked, skittering back towards the hole they'd come up from.
"Hell" was putting it mildly.
The dark eco creature's long ears twitched -- notched ears, Jak’s ears -- and it chirped. Carelessly, it dropped the half eaten head of what had once been Commander Errol and took a tentative step into the light.
It was -- he was -- naked, digitigrade. A hybrid of a human and a Centurion metalhead. In place of a skull gem, his horns pulsed with whatever eco he'd consumed from his prey.
Jak felt lightheaded.
"Prrp?"
The little monster dropped to a crouch, and hopped closer, balanced on tiptoe and fat clawed fingers. He sniffed at Jak, and a disturbingly innocent smile spread across his face.
There were a lot of fangs in that smile.
"What do we do?"
Daxter's voice echoed strangely.
"What do we- ohboy. Jak? Jak, stay with me. Don't look at the evil baby. Look at me. Look at me, pal."
Too late.
"I ca- I can't," Jak gasped, "I can't breathe-"
He curled into a protective ball as dark eco rushed to fill his skin like a protective layer, broadening his shoulders with the crack of joints. It didn't completely cancel the pain of growing a foot taller and a pair of horns in the span of three seconds, but it mitigated it somewhat. Now as pale as the...the not-Jak, he huddled with his hands over his ears. Block out the noise. Block out the lights. Focus on something small. Breathe, breathe, breathe-
"Urr?"
The creature looked different through Dark Jak’s eyes. He would have expected it -- him -- to register as a threat the way other metalheads did. To activate his hunting instincts. But the experiment just felt...familiar. Like someone he'd seen before but didn't really know. He also was very clearly not a threat. Not to Jak.
The child reached up with bloodied hands, instinct driving him to seek comfort. Trembling violently, Dark Jak lowered his arms and let the child use them to climb up to his chest and settle there. Blank-faced and hollow-eyed, he was motionless.
What had Praxis done?
What had he done?!
"Oh kriff, is that Errol?"
Daxter began to retch as he lifted a paw to avoid stepping on...well, he couldn't readily identify the body part anymore, but it certainly wasn't attached to its owner.
"Or...was, I guess."
He didn't feel too badly about vomiting on it.
______________________________________
"Jak? What's happening up there? We have to go! Now! What did you-"
Tess shrieked and jumped back when Jak dropped through the ceiling with something covered in blood in his arms. He was pale, pupils larger than they should've been. Tess knew that meant something up there had made him transform. And it probably had to do with the thing squirming in his arms.
"What is that?!"
"It's a kid."
Jak tucked the scarf closer around the child, hoping against hope no one would notice the tail -- the dead giveaway that the poor thing was part metalhead. "Praxis...he t- he tried to make another Dark Warrior. We have to get him out of here."
His voice was flat. Almost expressionless. There was a lot going on behind those eyes.
"And the guards?" Tess asked, eyeing the gap in the ceiling.
It was Daxter who answered in Jak’s stead, in a colder voice than any of them had ever heard.
"Errol will never hurt my pal again. He'll never hurt anyone again."
Ohhh. Oh that was going to shake up the Baron’s plans. Errol was both his meanest guard dog and his designated racing champion to keep the nobles pacified. Without the useless nobleman scion, he'd already lost control of the races. The Krimzon Guard would break down in organization too. Or at least, they would if Tess had anything to say about it.
"Good," she breathed, "Good. Thank the Precursors. Did he- did he hurt the- the baby?"
A tiny spark of life kindled in Jak’s eyes.
"It didn't end well for him," he rasped, and fell silent again.
Samos the Elder tiptoed to look at the toddler's face, then immediately began to howl about dark eco contamination. Samos the Younger simply looked uncomfortable with the presence of a child. Neither of them were going to be of any use in a crisis, clearly.
Tess sprang into action.
"Okay! Here's what we're going to do! Daxter, get Jak and this poor baby to Safehouse 8. I'll take these two back to HQ and deal with Torn. Check the kid for injuries, and we'll figure out what to do from there. Okay? Okay. Let's move, people."
Daxter sighed dreamily as he climbed up onto Jak’s shoulder. "Gods, I love a woman who takes charge in a crisis," he cooed.
It was almost enough to distract him from the extreme amount of blood covering the too-small kid with Jak's ears.
Nobody wanted to think about how he'd come to be.
If Jak was more violent than usual on the way out of the prison, Daxter didn't point it out. All he did was stay out of the way when Dark Jak came out to get hands-on with the idiot guarding their exit. The monster kid got very excited when Jak transformed the second time, chirping and squealing like a possessed bird.
When they'd broken out once more, pelting through the streets in pouring rain, they didn't stop to think. Jak knew if he pondered this little...person's...existence beyond cursory knowledge, it would shatter the pieces of himself he'd managed to put back together so far. So he just wouldn't think about it.
It was a kid. Errol hurt it. It killed Errol. End of story.
"Hang on kid. We're out of here."
A glance down revealed the beginnings of a far less sinister face as the rain finally began to break through the blood caked on the child’s skin. He blinked up at Jak with wide eyes.
"It's- it's not your fault. Okay? No matter- whatever people say, it isn't your fault," Jak croaked as they ran. "You didn't choose this. You're just a kid. It's not your fault."
He wasn't sure if he was talking to the kid, or to himself.
___[Three Hours Later, in the safe house]___
"Eep?"
"Wha- no! No, you can't eat that!"
Jak dropped his gun and dove for the kid, snatching a Scattergun cartridge from his chubby fingers.
The child looked at him with complete betrayal, opened his wide little mouth, and began to scream.
The boys looked at each other in panic. Someone was bound to hear that racket.
"Just let him have it!" Daxter yelped, covering his ears, "Metalheads eat eco, don't they?!"
"I don't know how much of him is metalhead!" Jak argued, "I don't want him to get hurt- Ow!"
The demon baby had decided to lodge a complaint with management in the form of locking his jaws around Jak’s forearm. He couldn’t penetrate the gauntlet fully, but there would definitely be bruises.
Without stopping to think, Jak grabbed the tot's cheeks and squeezed.
"Getoff!"
The demon baby growled at him.
"Let go, you little croc!" Jak increased the pressure. "Knock it off, or I'll bite you! See how you like it!'
He had absolutely no idea if the kid could understand a word he said. He certainly didn't act like he was listening.
So he shrugged and bit the kid's finger.
It wasn't hard. It didn't even dent the skin! But the kid yowled and fell back like he'd been struck a mortal blow. He wailed, holding up the afflicted finger to Jak.
"Well that's what happens," Jak scoffed. "You bite me, I'll bite you right back. Don't like it? Keep your teeth to yourself!"
The toddler sniffled, and in spite of himself, Jak softened. He groaned and gingerly lifted the kid under the armpits to set him on the cot beside him.
"Look. Just don't do it again, okay, Croc?"
"Ah," said the hybrid solemnly. The gurgling sound almost mimicked speech, as if he were copying Jak.
"Huh. You're kind of cold. Are you supposed to be that temperature?" Jak frowned.
He had absolutely no idea what counted as "normal" for something that had probably never existed before. Mar was always a little space heater-
Jak stubbornly buried thoughts of the kid deep in his mind. Not now. He needed to focus, and be able to keep his mind in the fight. He could let the "what-ifs" paralyze him later.
"Uh...here. I guess we should give you something to wear," Jak finally decided, "You are pretty naked. You...probably don't know what that means, though."
Daxter grimaced and slowly took his fingers out of his ears. "I am not babyproofing this safe house without coffee and financial compensation," he announced, "But if you can keep the little chomper busy for a couple minutes, I can see what passes for the sacred bean juice around here."
In the five minutes it took Daxter to brew some burnt, dark roast sludge, Jak had come up with a solution for the toddler's temperature.
It was not the solution Daxter had hoped for.
"No. Absolutely not. We have to find some clothes for him."
Daxter slammed a fist into his palm the second he put the foam coffee cups down. "One involuntary nudist in this family is bad enough! And he doesn't have strategic fur like I do!"
"What's wrong with what he's wearing?" Jak groused.
Daxter stared at him until his left eye began to twitch.
"What's wrong with-? HE'S WEARING A PILLOWCASE!"
The newly named Croc paused in his endless game of trying to catch his own tail to chirp questioningly. His limbs stuck haphazardly out of the pillowcase Jak had cut holes in, but it was more than he'd worn in the lab.
Daxter dropped his face into his palm. "Do you think that little menace is potty-trained? Do you? Because I can almost guarantee he is not!"
That hadn't occurred to Jak. He cringed and glanced at the hybrid. "Uh...how...do you potty-train a kid? Mar already knows how to go by himself, I think. But he's not. Like. A baby...thing."
Daxter huffed and began digging through drawers. "Short answer? You don't. Not in the middle of a war you don't. We're gonna need diapers. So many diapers. Do they make diapers with tail holes? Probably not. Oh- and wipes. I don't know if scaly butts get rashes but I don't wanna find out."
Jak groaned. "I don't know how to take care of a kid this little! We are kids!"
"Well do you wanna leave him with the Underground after their stellar show of babysitting skills thus far?" asked Daxter sarcastically.
"Kriff no!" Jak spat. He dragged grimy fingers down his cheeks and growled in frustration. "Can't ask Sig, he'd probably think the kid was a metalhead and try to hunt him or something."
"Eep! Ooooo!" Croc gathered himself, tail lashing, then made a leap for the bed.
He hit the edge and bounced off with an indignant squeak.
"Well," Jak said after examining him for a second, "He's durable, at least."
Far less angsty Croc Shenanigans to follow later this afternoon
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downspirals · 4 months
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get to know kc!
what's your phone wallpaper: a rlly cute picture of my fiance giggling :))
last song you listened to: maple syrup by the backseat lovers
currently reading: oh i do not read
last movie: hitman (the netflix one)
what are you wearing right now?: i am wearing a striped crop top and some shorts with flowers i embroidered on them
how tall are you?: 5'4"
piercings / tattoos?: i have my ears pierced and a nose piercing, and i have a purple pikmin tattoo on my arm and a mushroom worm right above my leg
glasses / contacts: i wear blue light glasses but i can technically see ok
last thing you ate?: orange tofu from the thai place nearby!
favorite color: pink :)
current obsession: oh this is hard but maybe smiling friends? teehee
do you have a crush right now?: yea on rain mars
favorite fictional character: where do i even start. but obvious answer is luigi
last place you travelled: i like never travel but lmao i go to boston sometimes ig
stole from: @ultfan i don't feel like tagging u should all just steal this so i can read them
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draguta · 1 year
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.a court of ash and smoke | fifteen.
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pairing: lucien vanserra x reader
summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.
chapter warnings: mentions of ptsd, mentions of domestic violence
chapter word count: 2658
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Silas
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“You know, that’s a terrible position for sleeping.”
A familiar voice roused you from your nap, and you sat up sharp in your seat, eyes groggy and hair a wild mess. Blinking behind you, you found Lucien leaning against the mantlepiece with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk.
“Feyre stole my bed,” was all you managed to say as you rose to your feet.
“You seem to have a habit of letting your friends sleep in your bed,” he chuckled, and you threw him a glare over your shoulder, knowing that he was thinking of the night that you had nursed his fever and allowed him to take up far too much space in your bed. You hadn’t minded at the time, however, as it had allowed you to snuggle up at his chest that night, wrapped in his embrace for the first time. But now, looking at him smirking back at you in that library, you inwardly cursed yourself for ever having allowed it to happen. The memory of his rejection, of him telling you to leave after he had ignited your skin on fire, came washing back to you, and it cut as deep then as it had at the time, wounds freshly reopened to bleed once again.
“What are you doing here, Lucien?” You snapped, and the smirk immediately dropped from his face. ‘Good,’ you thought. ‘At least now you know that you can’t just show back up here and pretend that nothing happened.’
“I have a meeting with Tamlin,” he explained quietly, all quips and hints of humour in his voice now gone. “I thought it might be beneficial if you were there.”
“You really think Tamlin would let me in a room with you? Let alone join in on an important meeting?” You questioned, raising a sarcastic eyebrow at him. He shrugged.
“I’m sure he’ll be ok with it,” he said. “Once I tell him what it’s about.”
“He won’t even let me and Feyre leave the grounds, Lucien,” you huffed out. “We’re on house arrest.”
“At least you’re allowed in the house. Tamlin is…taking things very far, it would seem,” Lucien muttered, but you didn’t miss the wave of concern behind that russet eye. “Just come to the meeting, please.”
You considered for a moment, studying the genuine hope in features, and finally shrugged yourself. “Fine. When is the meeting?”
“This afternoon,” he said in reply.
“I’ll see you there then,” you stated blandly, turning to leave. But Lucien’s hand reached out to grab at your wrist, pulling you back. You winced at the pain that it brought to those cuts and bruises still marring your skin.
“Wait,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you, before we go to see Tamlin, about what happened the last time I was here.”
“There’s nothing to talk about Lucien,” you said, trying to keep your voice monotone and bored. “You don’t want me, and that’s fine. Perhaps Tamlin was right, maybe you were just using me.”
He recoiled slightly, although his hands remained wrapped around your wrist. “Is that really what you think of me?”
“No, Lucien,” you dared to say, looking back at him. “That’s not what I think of you at all, and you know it. But I’m having a hard time trying to come up with one reason that you would treat me that way when you were the one that made the first move.”
“Y/N,” he all-but whined. He grunted, running his free hand through his hair as he slowly but surely said, in a low voice. “There are things about me - about my past - that you don’t know, and…I don’t know how to tell you.”
“If you’re trying to tell me that you’re not a good person, Lucien,” you huffed out. “Then you can stop because I know you’re lying. I know that’s not true.”
“No,” he said softly. “That’s not what I mean. But I have done things, and people were hurt because of it. And if I had done what I really wanted to do with you, then it wouldn’t be fair to you, and it wouldn’t be fair to them.”
You blinked up at him, at his furrowed brows and eyes almost pleading you to trust him. Yet, you couldn’t seem to allow yourself to forgive him, to give in and go back to how things were. “If that’s all you had to say, then I must go and dress.”
You turned again, but Lucien pulled you back once more, a little harder this time, and you yelped out in pain. Lucien retreated a step as if he had burnt himself, staring wide-eyed at you. “Did I - I didn’t meant to hurt you, I’m sorry-”
You pulled your wrist to your chest, cradling it in your other hand, refusing to meet his eye. “It wasn’t you.”
You didn’t see his face, didn’t see his reaction to your words, but you did see his large hands slowly and hesitantly reach forward to take your hand. You let him. His fingers gently pulled up the sleeve of your nightdress, and you grimaced when you saw the bruises, a dark, harsh purple against your pale skin, and the bright red gashes above them. He ran the pad of his thumb across the biggest of the bruises, the one made by your brother’s thumb.
“Who did this to you?”
You swallowed harshly. “I went to ask Tamlin if he would let you come home, and he got angry…”
You trailed off when you saw the anger that flashed in his eye, saw the muscles in his jaw clench in rage. “Tamlin.” It came out in a growl.
“I’m fine, really-” you began, flustered.
“No, you’re not,” he snapped, shoulders already squaring. “He will never hurt you again, I’ll make sure of it.”
“Lucien-”
“Let me handle it.”
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The air inside the study was heavy and rich with unbridled fury. Tamlin leant against the desk, glaring at Tamlin, and Lucien stood across from him, jaw clenched tightly. You awkwardly stood between them, glancing from one to the other.
“Why is she here?” Tamlin snapped, inclining his head toward you, but never taking his eyes from Lucien.
“Because this concerns her,” Lucien bit back. “So it’s only right that she is present for the conversation.”
“Fine,” Tamlin snarled, eyes flashing dangerously, daring Lucien to step a toe out of line. “Say what you came here to say.”
“I was patrolling the Northern border and met a group of travelling lesser faeries from the Dawn Court, moving through the Summer Court,” Lucien said, glaring at Tamlin from under a low brow. With that golden eye, he looked more terrifying in that stance than you had ever known him to be, and you were thankful that you were not on the receiving end of that stare. “They reminded me of something. Helion of the Day Court is a spellcaster.”
“What of it?” Tamlin growled.
“I travelled to the Day Court to see him myself,” Lucien continued. “And explained Y/N’s…problem. He thinks he can help, and said that he had seen something similar before.”
“So you want her to go to the Day Court alone?” Tamlin snapped. “No way.”
“Not alone-” Lucien began, but Tamlin interrupted him.
“I am too busy to escort her.”
“Then I will take her myself,” Lucien bit back. Tamlin’s features contorted into a foul sneer, white teeth flashing, claws protruding from his knuckles.
“You will not take her anywhere,” he hissed. “If she must go, then I will have sentinels escort her.”
“You would trust her safety with sentinels more than with me?” Lucien asked, lips curling into a malicious curl of disdain and irritation, and if you weren’t wrong, insult. “She would be ten times safer - twenty times - with me at her side.”
“The sentinels can take her,” Tamlin gritted out, pushing himself from the side of the desk and rising to his full height.
“Then let the sentinels come too, with me and Y/N,” Lucien compromised. “Find those who can winnow and let them come with us.”
Tamlin snarled, but did not argue back.
“So it is decided,” Lucien nodded. “We will leave at the end of the week.”
Tamlin’s hot gaze snapped to you. “Can you give us a minute please?”
You glanced at Lucien, but eventually nodded and exited the room, off into the gardens to find Feyre. Lucien turned back to the High Lord. “Was there something else?”
Tamlin let out a low sigh and leaned against the side of his desk, crossing his arms across his chest. “We have been friends for a long time,” he said. “Some would say too long. I hate to argue with you.”
“And I you,” Lucien nodded in agreement, but kept his firm stance, his face untelling. “And I appreciate everything that you have done for me, but if I am accused of what you have accused me of, then I will defend myself.”
“I understand,” Tamlin groaned. He ran a hand through his golden locks, catching his emissary’s eyes. “She asks about you, you know? She asked me to order you back here, and I know she speaks of you to Feyre.”
“I have to admit that I have thought about her too,” Lucien said, only wincing internally when he rethought saying it aloud. “And I would very much like to return home, if you would allow it.”
Tamlin cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “I would like to trust you, Lucien, as I always have been able to before. But this-” He pushed himself off the desk and began pacing across the room, hands clapped tightly together. “I have to protect her, to protect Feyre. They have been placed in my care - they are my responsibility now. And after everything she has been through-”
“I never touched her, Tamlin,” Lucien said firmly, eyes flashing. He paused, looking at him over his shoulder. “Like I told you before, the only reason we were pretending was so that I could get messages to her from you. She had guards on her door, Tamlin, you know that.”
“I saw you with my own eyes, with your hands all over her,” Tamlin snapped.
“We were playing a part, Tam,” Lucien said exasperatedly, voice raising louder than he meant it to. “Just like you were playing a part Under the Mountain. I did whatever I could do to keep her safe because you told me to.”
“Is that the only reason?” The High Lord asked, raising an eyebrow. Lucien paused and then sighed.
“I’ll admit, over those years I came to care for her,” he said quietly. “But I never touched her.”
Tamlin’s lips twisted in thought as he considered it, and eventually said, “Fine, you can come home, and you can go with her to the Day Court.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous tick that Lucien had noticed over the years of their friendship. “But do not, whatever you do, go into her room. Do not touch her, do you hear me, Lucien?”
“I hear you,” Lucien said, and offered Tamlin a small bow before turning to the door. He paused when he reached the doorframe and turned back to the blonde. “I know what you did to her, you know.” Tamlin blinked back at him, and Lucien could see the guilt behind those green eyes. “If I am to keep my hands off her, then I suggest you do the same thing. Next time I won’t consider our friendship before drawing my sword to protect her.”
“Are you threatening me Lucien?” Tamlin growled.
Lucien thought for a moment before replying, “Yes. I am.” And then he turned and left, ignoring the claws that protruded from Tamlin’s knuckles.
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You had been unable to find Feyre, and Alis had informed you that she had gone out to explore the grounds. You didn’t have the energy to run about the estate trying to find her, so instead you took yourself on a stroll around the gardens yourself, your feet taking you toward the stables and the sentinel’s training house.
The clinking of swords drew your attention first, and then the glimmer as the blades hit the sunlight. You allowed yourself to edge closer, leaning against the outside of the stables and watching as two of Tamlin sentinels engaged in a sword fight. The larger of the two - a burly, broad, and muscular man with sandy brown hair and sun-kissed skin - hit the other sentinel’s sword and pushed it down toward him. The other Fae yielded and dropped to the grass, and the sandy-haired one laughed loudly, holding out a hand for the other and pulling him to his feet.
“Is there a grudge that someone is holding that I should know about?” You called out, drawing the attention of the two sentinels. The sandy-blonde one turned and offered a low bow at the sight of you, brown eyes glinting in the sunlight.
“No, Lady, just a bit of practice,” he chuckled as he rose, and you couldn’t help but laugh too.
“Well, thank goodness I don’t have to go and get my brother,” you smiled brightly.
“Oh, this was Lord Tamlin’s idea,” the sentinel explained, taking a step toward me. He had forgone the golden armour that the sentinels usually wore, and instead simply wore a loose fitting white shirt and trousers, his feet bare in the grass. “A bit of friendly competition always brightens up the men.”
“And you are what? Their entertainer?” You chuckled, and the sentinel huffed out a laugh.
“Entertainer, no. Commander, yes,” he laughed. “But you can just call me Silas, My Lady.”
“Oh, please don’t call me that,” you said. “Feyre is the Lady of the house, I’m just…me.”
You glanced over his shoulder at the swords that had been abandoned on the grass post-fight. “Any tricks you might be able to show me?” You asked hopefully. Silas frowned slightly, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t think Lord Tamlin would appreciate that,” he said, cocking his head to the side slightly. “Why would a lady like you want to know how to wield a sword?”
You pushed from the wall and wandered past him. “Perhaps I’m simply interested in the art,” you said as convincingly as you could. You reached down and picked up the sword; you had to admit it was heavier than you had been expecting, and you certainly didn’t look the part to be holding it, not in your frilly floral spring dress. You glanced up to Silas again, waving the sword around before you slightly. “Or perhaps I’d like to learn to defend myself.”
Silas took a step forward and reached for the sword. “You don’t need to defend yourself, Lady. That’s what we’re here for.” He moved to take the sword from my hand, and as your hand moved with it, the sleeve of your dress hiked up slightly, bringing your bruises into view. You moved quickly, ripping your sleeve down your arm, trying to will the heat that was spreading up your cheeks to dissipate. But it was too late, Silas had already seen it. He hissed through his teeth slightly.
“On the other hand,” he said, and you glanced up at him hopefully. “It is always good for a lady to know how to look after herself, just in case. Why don’t you come here in a few days and we’ll see what we can teach you. However, I think it best that we don’t tell your brother about it, ok?”
“I would prefer he didn’t know too,” you said, offering him a shy smile. He nodded firmly in confirmation.
“Come at sunset, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded again. He patted you gently on the shoulder, and with that returned to his men, and you walked back to the manor with a new sense of confidence.
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jademickian · 5 months
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wednesday tag game!!
thanks for the tag @mickeysgaymom @blue-disco-lights @iansw0rld<33
Bleachers or Dugouts // Wedding or Anniversary // Dom Top Daddy or Tough Guy // Together or I’m fuckin’ gay // Club kiss or Docks kiss // Prison reunion or parolee reunion // ghetto married or married married // flapjacks or patty melts // courthouse kiss or prison makeup kiss // patsy’s proposal or bar proposal // cole or byron // steven segal or justin timberlake // take your hand off the glass or you look like a wet rat // coming up for air or move like you stole it // Tell me goodbye or hard to get’s getting me hard // Can I help or I definitely love one // You’re gonna be a great dad or I gotta worry you’re my husband // breakfast smooch or catch up later peck 
"what the hell are flapja- ahh" *picks it* + club kiss or docks kiss... why pit two queens against each other + ily forever married married but ghetto married changed my brain chemistry
tagging @tsuga-of-mars @vintagelacerosette @sgtmickeyslaughter @mybrainismelted @mickittotheman if you want to do it!! or whoever wants to join!!
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windvexer · 1 year
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Hi, do you have a post on calculating the planetary hours of the day or a specific tag for planet magic like that? I found charts online but for some reason I just keep getting really confused on figuring out what hour corresponds to what with time zones, I'm not sure how that affects it? I know I've seen you post about it but tumblr search is useless. Thank you!
Hi, I do not have a post about the calculations, but perhaps my explanation will suffice where the same explanation has elsewhere not suffoced 😅
First things first, no need to use charts! There are many online calculators. Try this one!
Any modern calculator will calculate the time zones for you.
In the linked calculator, only enter in your current city. The math is done on your behalf.
I tried to do an explanation of calculating this but my nerve pain is just brutal today.
So I stole it from PlentifulEarth.com instead:
Determine Sunrise and Sunset: Check local times for these events using reliable sources or apps. Calculate Day and Night Duration: Calculate how many minutes are between sunrise and sunset for day time. Calculate how many minutes are between sunset and sunrise for night time. Divide Each by Twelve: Each period (day or night) is divided into 12 equal hours, but remember, these aren’t the standard 60-minute hours we’re used to! You should have two separate hour lengths, one for the length of day time’s hours and one for the length of night time’s hours. Convert Minutes Back to Hours: Starting at sunrise, take the number of minutes from step 3 and add them to find out the next “hour” mark. Repeat until you get to sunset. Do this again for the night time period. Assign Planetary Rulers: Based on the day, the first hour will be ruled by the planet governing that day. Then, label each following hour as the planet that comes next in the Chaldean sequence.
Just remember, if doing by hand, start the operation by finding your current sunrise and sunset times.
Be careful when Googling, because Google will by default show you today's sunset and tomorrow's sunrise; but what you really need is both for the same day. (Ultimately this will at most change your calculations by a minute and isn't vital, but good to be mindful of).
When doing this calculation yourself, there should never be a time where you are calculating your own time zone in relation to another time zone.
There are 12 planetary hours during daylight. But, these "hours" are not 60 minutes long. The 12 units of time stretch out for long days (summer), and get squished for short days (winter).
All you are doing is finding how many hours of daylight are happening for your location that day, and dividing by 12.
The first planetary hour matches the day (Sun Sunday, Moon Monday, Mars Tuesday, Mercury Wednesday, Jupiter Thursday, Venus Friday, Saturn Saturday) and they cycle through the day.
There are also 12 planetary "hours" during nighttime, which are stretched (winter) and squished (summer) so that all 12 fit into the darkness.
Anyway, hope this helps! I'd recommend just using a calculator, not charts :)
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olliexwrites · 16 days
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Proud Of Tag
Stole from @winterandwords open tag!
Rules: Share a snippet you're proud of and tag some friends!
I tag @leafflets, @bluberimufim, @dyrewrites, and YOU! Share some snippets!!!
The Orphanage this time...
The face that she saw was far from pure, far from innocent, marred with trails of ink that took root from the rotting bluebell carved deep into the right side of her face. The flesh around the plant had taken on a sickly, slate-shaded hue, which the girl hadn’t realized until taking a look.
The Orphanage taglist (ask to be +/-): @dyrewrites
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bullet-prooflove · 2 years
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Come Home - Jimmy Lanik x Reader
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Tagging: @daniacat @annieradcliff @cosmic-psychickitty @giuls-ver @crazy4chickennuggets @infinity-mars
The breeze up on the roof was refreshing, it washed over Jimmy as he leaned on the railing, looking out across the city. He hadn't slept in forever, and that weariness was creeping up on him now that the caffeine and the adrenaline were seeping out of his body. He had spent the past few days in a constant state of hyper awareness, fuelled by stimulants because the truth was even after COVID – 19 they were still overwhelmed. The ramifications from the pandemic just kept going and he wasn’t afraid to admit that being on the front line had changed him. He had never known exhaustion quite like this.
 The mandatory therapy sessions were a God send, he didn’t know how he would have coped without them, watching people’s lives slip away day after day destroyed parts of your soul. He had been running on empty when he’d been forced into his first session with Doctor Charles, and he should still feel elements of that vibrating through his being. Things were better now but they would never be the same as before.
The doors behind Jimmy opened and he glanced over this shoulder, his gaze meeting yours. He always got lost in those eyes, there was a solace in them, a sense of peace that came only with you. You were always patient, always caring, always giving him the time of day when he needed it.
"I thought I'd see how you are doing." You said stepping up alongside of him, the breeze brushing the hair away from your face. “You haven’t been home in a few days.”
“It’s been bad.” He told you, his hands gripping the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. “I didn’t want to bring it home to you.”
“Jimmy, come on…”
He inclined his head towards you.
“Our home it’s a happy place, there’s no room for something like this.” Jimmy told you, his eyes stinging.
Your hand came to rest upon his shoulder.  Jimmy closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. It felt like he could breathe for the first time in a long time. It was a wonderful sensation, knowing that someone cared about him, that you cared about him. He needed that right now; he needed you to chase away the darkness in his heart because right now he had nothing left.
“That’s not true.” You said quietly. “There’s always space for you, for your thoughts, your feelings.”
"Just hearing that…it makes a difference." Jimmy swallowed hard past the well of emotion in his chest before turning to face you.
There was agony in those eyes, so raw and vivid that it stole away your breath. You wanted to take that pain away, to show Jimmy that love didn't come with a cost, and he didn't have to hide himself from you.
Your hands came to rest on his unshaven cheeks, the dark stubble feeling silky underneath your fingertips. You leaned in close so that your faces were inches apart. Jimmy could feel his heart pounding even harder against his ribcage. His skin was prickling with anticipation as you lingered just out of reach.
Jimmy closed the gap between you with the tiniest of movements. His lips brushed over yours timidly, before your warm hands settled on his lower back drawing him even closer. There was comfort in your arms, a security and stability that he craved.
"Come home to me Jimmy.” You whispered. “Let me take care of you for once.”
Love Jimmy Lanik? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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mimicic · 2 months
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Get to know me.
Alias / Name: jordy
Birthday: march 18
Zodiac: pisces
Height: 5′2″
Hobbies: writing, knitting, climbing, chess, collecting old used postcards, web coding, reading (i'm trying to read more!)
Favourite colours: pink (mim makes that so obvious), and dirty pastel colors
Favourite books: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Fahrenheit 451, The God of Small Things, Project Hail Mary, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour, How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe, Life on Mars (poetry collection), Dunce (poetry collection), Crush (poetry collection), Lincoln in the Bardo (just started it)
Last song: rich man by max garcía conover
Last movie: i recently tried watching the terminator but stopped like 2/3 of the way through because i got bored :/
Last show: currently watching the kdrama love to hate you and i've been eating it up
Recent read: just finished project hail mary, just started lincoln in the bardo
Fun fact: i live on the west coast now! that's insane!
Tagged by: i stole it from @corsey Tagging: let me know you!
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lesbianjackies · 1 year
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ripping off like three other ppl (@spaceagebachelormann @doyouknowwhoyouare13 & whoever mars stole from — i would tag u if i knew ur url i’m so sorry 😭😭) with this but.
what are your hcs for what i would be like if i were a fictional character?
moots (besides the ones i tagged up there) bc i need ur attention: @queerdeadwizards @ravensraven @riffraffmanwhore @the-lavender-creator @authorofemotion @arakhnee @saturnband @starstruckwillows @starlit-epiphany @sp1rit-realm @juneberrie @kazoosandfannypacks @zvdvdlvr
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