#ive been to so many at least half of the ones in the city and surrounding areas

[nexttothelamp]

...

[cheswirls]

AAAAAAAAAAAAA i didnt realize this frlg rom reset gym leader lvls to gen 1′s which means they are absolutely stacked compared to the rest of the game and i am not flying thru this so quick anymore

[redstarwriting]

the clash | iv. london calling

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst

a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)

now reading: iv. london calling

previous chapter: iii. black planet

next chapter: v. ever fallen in love

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He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”

“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”

“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”

“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”

“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”

“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”

“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.

“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”

“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”

“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ‘round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.

“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. “Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”

“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”

“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I’ll make you.”

“Try me, Hobart.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.

“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”

With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.

“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”

“And you didn’t offer any to them?”

“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”

“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”

“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”

“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.

“Do you know how to have any fun?”

“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Don’t care. The answer is no.”

“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”

“You actually want to share with me?”

“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”

“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”

“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”

“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”

“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”

“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”

“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”

“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”

“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”

“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”

“I helped you today, love.”

“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”

“Hmm?”

“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”

“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”

“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”

“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”

He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”

“Doing what?”

“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”

“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”

“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”

“Great.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.

He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.

He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.

───────────────────────────────

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[tojisangrylittlething]

Can you do Gojo Satoru x reader (also his age like idk they went to schopl together) and they r dating but the reader almost dies and then treats their death mockingly as if as a joke? How would Gojo react?

Have a lovely day! 🪷

summary: death has always been a joke to you, but your boyfriend isn't very pleased with your sick sense of humor.

tw: canon typical violence, near-death experience, cussing, pre-hidden inventory arc, hurt to comfort

wc: 3.4k

a/n: your wish is my command lovely anon! sorry it took me a bit to complete! you're my first ever ask, so i hope this is what you wanted <3

satoru is currently walking through the courtyard of jujutsu tech. it's his second year as a student and his reputation as the strongest grows by the day. he feels incredibly lucky to have met his friends, such as suguru and ieiri.

but then there's you.

the bright-eyed first year who caught his attention the minute you walked through the doors of the school. shyly introducing yourself, holding out your hand shakily with a timid smile adorning your breathtaking features.

satoru was starstruck, his brain short-circuited and he forgot how to fucking breathe. it took him at least 2 whole minutes to shake your hand and give you an adequate greeting.

as you walked away with nanami and haibara, satoru couldn't help but watch as you did. your hips swaying and hands swinging freely at your sides, laughing at something haibara said. god, satoru will never forget your smile for as long as he lives.

suguru about had to unleash a curse on his best friend to get him to come back to planet earth.

from that day forward, satoru knew that he had to have you. whatever satoru gojo wants, satoru gojo gets.

after a few months of pining and romantic gestures, satoru finally convinced you to go on a date. as the date was coming to a close, he kissed you under the vibrant lights on the city streets of tokyo. the only time that he ever hesitated was when he asked you to be his partner, to be the one who loved and cared for him despite his flaws.

satoru couldn't help but kiss you again the second you said yes, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of joy.

now, six months later, your relationship has bloomed into something exquisite. you've shared many laughs, cries, and tender moments that satoru cherishes deeply in his soul.

he currently walks to see yaga, something about having a new mission for him. you're supposed to be back from your own respective mission today and satoru hopes he'll get to see you before he leaves.

satoru hears his phone ringing from his pocket, he reaches down and grabs it, eyes scanning over the caller ID.

shoko is calling...

he furrows his brows, a bit confused as to why she would be calling. shrugging it off, he presses the green answer button and holds it up to his ear.

"shoko! to what do i owe the-"

the sound of her sniffling immediately stops satoru in his tracks.

"shoko? what's going on?"

he hears her clear her throat and she sighs. gojo chews the dead skin off his bottom lip anxiously, speculating what she could say next.

"something happened to y/n. we're in the medical wing."

satoru feels his heart drop straight to his stomach, eyes growing wide at her words. he thinks he mumbles something along the lines of i'm on my way, but he's not entirely sure. the blood rushing through his ears makes his hearing sound muffled.

he half-hazzardly shoves his phone back into his pocket, taking off toward the medical wing of the school. his thoughts consumed with nothing but you.

---

when satoru arrives, he's shocked by what he sees.

there you are, lying in the white cot with your eyes closed. your skin is abnormally pale, the vibrant glow you always held has now turned dull. you're wrapped in bandages and an IV drip is connected to the top of your hand.

satoru keeps his face blank, afraid that if he shows any emotion he will break down. internally, his brain is screaming for you, what could have possibly happened to you that you're in this condition?

he always swore to you that he'd protect you, not only was that his job as one of the strongest sorcerers of the age, but also as your devoted boyfriend.

"you know i will always protect you, right my love?"

you smiled sweetly at him, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunching up adorably, "of course i know that toru."

that interaction plays in his head like a broken record. he wasn't there for you.

shoko approaches him cautiously, unsure of what her friend is thinking. satoru's face is void of emotions, but she can see the turmoil swimming in his eyes, even from behind his sunglasses. his usually radiant blue eyes are now dark and frigid.

shoko reaches her hand out to touch him, but pulls it back deciding against it. she knows satoru has to be on high alert right now, so surely his infinity is on.

satoru finally looks at shoko, remorse is written all over her face. her eyes are slightly downcast and there's a frown on her lips. she looks him up and down, trying to assess what he's feeling.

he looks back to you, "what happened?" satoru mumbles out, his voice is eerily calm, but there's a waver behind it.

shoko turns her gaze to where gojo's is, the events of the mission playing over in her head. she shakes her head, willing those images to go away.

"the intel was wrong. it was supposed to be a grade 3, but it was a grade 1."

satoru stays quiet as he takes in the information. he clenches his fists in anger, how could they possibly mistake something like that? their one miscalculation leads to the light of his life on their deathbed.

shoko takes his silence as her cue to continue, "the curse threw an attack aimed at me, but y/n threw themselves in front of me. they took the blow head on."

shoko hears the shake in her own voice and feels the tears begin to gather in her waterline. she always viewed you as a younger sibling, looking out for you and having your back whenever you would need her.

"i used my technique and healed them the best i could, but now we have to play the waiting game."

shoko turns to gojo after finishing her sentence and she becomes even more worried for him.

gojo's fists shake from how tightly he clutches down on them, his knuckles are extruding due to the force he is using. shoko can hear the grinding of his teeth with how brutally he is clenching them, any harder he might break a tooth.

before shoko can stop herself, she puts a comforting hand on his arm. she's shocked to find that his infinity is off.

shoko composes herself then, hand squeezing his arm comfortingly, "i'm so sorry gojo, i'm so so sorry."

satoru turns his eyes to her and sees the apologetic look she wears on her face. he sighs and lets go of his fists, shooting her a small smile, "it's not your fault shoko, don't blame yourself."

silence falls across the room then, the only sound being heard is the steady beeping of the heart monitor you're attached to. satoru and shoko are unable to stop staring at you, each of their hearts breaking in different ways for the state that you're in.

"i'm going to wait with them until they wake up."

gojo says nothing else as he plops himself in the uncomfortable chair next to your bedside. he grasps your hand in his, your hand is cold and it makes his insides twist.

shoko watches gojo for a moment, noting how gentle he is with you and the soft look in his eyes. she can physically see all of the love that walking behemoth holds for you.

she bows slightly and makes her way out of the room, running off to tell yaga what has happened and that gojo will not leave your side. she knows him well enough to know that he would cause an absolute shitstorm before anyone takes him away from you.

as soon as shoko leaves, satoru can't help the anxiety that eats away at him. all of the worst possible scenarios being the only thing he can think of.

he frowns deeply and uses his free hand to rub at his eyes, not wanting to shed any tears over something that may not happen.

satoru glides his thumb softly over your wrist, he's able to feel your pulse and it's weak. this causes him to sigh, taking in your figure and the injuries all over your skin.

"wake up soon my love, i'll be waiting."

---

you have no idea what time it must be when you wake up, the lighting in the room blinding you from how bright it is.

this causes you to squint your eyes, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden intrusion to your vision.

when you look around you, you see that your in a room in the medical wing of the school. since becoming a sorcerer, you've grown familiar with the disgusting hospital white that paints the walls. the smell alone making you scrunch up your face with how putrid it is.

after a few minutes of observation, you feel something in your left hand.

you look in that direction and see your beautiful boyfriend satoru. he is bent forward, laying his head on the bed you also lay in with his head resting on his forearms. his eyes are closed and he's snoring softly, a stark contrast to how tightly he is gripping your hand.

you can't help the small smile that finds its way to your lips, your free hand reaching for him. you run your fingers lightly through his snow-white hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

your movements cause him to stir, he faintly and his eyes blink open slowly.

he glances around the room briefly when his eyes finally find yours, the smile you wear is so tender that satoru believes it to be an illusion.

you try to speak to him but you start coughing violently, your throat dry from being asleep for so long.

satoru scrambles to your bedside table, grabbing the water cup and holding it to your lips.

you grasp at it and drink it quickly, your body feels as if it hasn't drank in days.

when you've finished the water, satoru plucks it from you and sets it back on the table. he faces you again and squeezes your hand, smiling at you affectionately, "welcome back, baby."

you return the loving smile and squeeze his hand back, a rasp to your voice, "hi."

satoru cradles your head, his eyes taking in every single feature on your face. his smile falters almost imperceptibly, his eyes looking directly into yours, "almost lost you there."

you wave him off, chuckling extraneously, "it's fine satoru, could've been worse."

his frown seems to deepen even more, "you almost died, baby. i don't understand how it could be worse."

you look around nonchalantly with a light expression on your face, "oh, i don't know, i could actually be dead."

satoru furrows his brows at you, pulling away from you slightly, "baby, i'm serious. you could have died."

you grin at him, honestly finding his serious behavior amusing, "it's no big deal toru."

satoru completely pulls away from you then, shocked by how your treating the situation, "no big deal? this is a big deal y/n."

you roll your eyes and snicker at him, hilarity dancing in your eyes, "no it's not satoru, it's just part of the job. although, that would not have been a cool way to go. only a grade one? come on." you groan out by the end, embarrassed that it wasn't a special grade that landed you here.

satoru is frozen in his spot, completely appalled at the way you're handling this. he thought of all the ways you would wake up, but he didn't account for this one.

sure, satoru has done incredibly reckless things, come on he's satoru gojo. he only commits those acts because he knows he has an insurance policy in place, his infinity. he's convinced the only thing that can kill him is himself.

you, however, do not have his technique.

yes, you're an incredibly powerful sorcerer, working your way up the ranks quickly. gojo believes that one day you'll sit beside him and suguru as the strongest.

but today is not that day.

you threw yourself at a walking hand grenade for fucks sake, the fact that you even survived is shocking. he's grateful to the gods that you did, but he only wishes you would take this a bit more earnestly.

satoru takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs back and forth absentmindedly.

"baby, i need you to listen to me carefully."

when he looks up at you, you're looking straight at him. you have a passive look on your face, a small smirk fixed on your lips, "satoru, i told you it's-"

satoru grip on your hands grows tighter, his eyebrows scrunching up in frustration and his eyes are full of anguish. he can't help the volume that his voice rises to, unable to hold back any longer, "no, no it's not fine! i almost fucking lost you today, and for what, because you decided to dive in front of something equivalent to a fucking missile?"

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend and yank your hands out of his grasp, your arms cross over your chest and you huff out in annoyance, the glare you send satoru cutting through your once light-hearted facade, "and what was i supposed to do? let shoko take the hit?"

satoru scoffs at that, the words spilling out of his mouth like an uncontrollable fire, "this isn't about shoko, this is about you. do you have no regard for your own life that you'd just throw it all away?"

you fire right back at him, annoyance beginning to boil in your gut and popping right out of the top, "i'm not throwing my fucking life away! shoko was about to be blown to smithereens! i accepted death when i became a sorcerer, have you?"

satoru cannot believe what he's hearing and it clearly shows on his face, his mouth morphs into a scowl and his eyes are so dark you can't even see his pupils anymore, "at least i wouldn't have wound up here, clinging to a life i obviously don't give a shit about."

the look on your face could kill anyone in a 5 mile radius, your eyes throwing daggers and your mouth shooting bullets, "maybe i should have died on that field, at least then i wouldn't have the honored one trying to dictate my life."

you're panting heavily, you can feel your body shaking with rage and you can hear the heart monitor beeping rapidly.

satoru is a different story.

his breathing is opposite of yours, it seems to have come to a halt. his pupils are blown wide and his mouth is open slightly, trying to see if he heard you correctly.

he sighs dejectedly and pinches the bridge of his nose. he's attempting to think of something to say, but he's coming up empty handed.

you hear him rustling about and turn your gaze back to him. you see him stand with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and looking completely deflated.

he looks through you with an empty stare trying to mask the pain he's feeling, mouth pulled into a thin line, "you know what? fine. if you want to go on a suicide run, fine, do what you wish. i will have no part in it."

what he says next is like a harpoon being shot through your heart.

"if you are that willing to leave everything behind, i want no part of you either."

you feel as if the world has stopped spinning on its axis. the gravity of his words crushing you, turning you into mere atoms of a human being.

regret begins to wash over you, an apology sitting on the tip of your tongue but you can't form the words. your breaths are now coming out in short pants, your heart and lungs feel like they're being shattered from the inside.

"i love you more than my dreams would ever allow, but i still want to be able to love you and not your corpse."

you put your head in your hands, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you dig your nails into your cranium with so much strength you think you broke skin.

you don't even know if satoru is still here, too engrossed in the thought of him leaving you.

to others, your relationship may seem like a juvenile affair, but that's not the case.

in the world of jujutsu, you see and experience a multitude of things that a teenager should never have to go through. you're sent off like soldiers to war, fighting against something that is greater than yourselves. death is simply inevitable, it's in the job description. some sorcerers thrive, while others wither away.

joking about your impending demise has been your way of coping with it. an unhealthy coping mechanism, but what else are you supposed to do? live your life too tentatively and miss out on the beauty it has to offer?

that's why you loved satoru.

he was always a ray of sunshine in your life. a shining star in your dark universe, providing light and warmth in his wake. the day he asked you to be his significant other, you were beyond happy. the delicate glances he gives you, the soft kisses he greets and leaves you with, the love that he reserves only for you.

all of these things make it easier to face the horrors every time you leave the school because you know when you come home, satoru will be waiting for you with open arms.

without him? you don't know what you would do.

realizing that not having him in your life might soon be a reality, you break down into a sob. the faucet behind your eyes turned on and not stopping anytime soon. you're wailing so loud, it's a surprise no one has come in to investigate.

you grip the ends of the gown on your body, trying to ground yourself. you finally find the ability to speak, shouting i'm sorry over and over.

you're now convinced that satoru has left, leaving you to your own devices.

you're proven wrong when a familiar pair of warm arms wrap themselves around you.

satoru pulls you into his chest and you clutch the fabric of his uniform tightly in your hands. you're sobbing so hard that you think you might be sick.

"i'm sorry satoru, i'm sorry. please don't leave, don't leave me alone."

he doesn't say anything, just continues to hold you and cradle your head, rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your back.

"i don't want to leave everything. i love my life, especially with you in it."

your sobs have calmed down into hiccups and sniffles, the tears now trickling down your cheeks.

"i-i want to live a long life with you, where we grow old and wrinkly and hobble around with a cane."

that gets a small chuckle out of satoru, "i have to admit baby, you'd look good in a moomoo."

you hit him on the shoulder with a small laugh, but quickly revert back to your serious manner, "i'm not kidding satoru, i love you and i want to be with you on this day, until our last day."

he grabs your face in his hands and angles you so you're looking right at him, "i love you, more than anything, but baby i need you to hear me."

he presses your forehead against his, staring directly into your eyes you can feel it in your soul, "i can't love you the way i want to if you're dead. i need you to promise me that you will look after yourself, i won't always be there to keep you in check. i need you to come back to me in one piece."

you think over it for a moment, satoru wants what's best for you, and you should want that too.

you whisper softly, afraid of ruining the moment, "i promise."

you seal the promise with a kiss, running your hands through satoru's hair while he grabs you by your waist to pull you closer.

you kiss each other with a newfound passion, the love you share untethered.

"jesus christ, really?"

"it's a miracle they didn't do anything else on this bed."

you try to pull away, flustered at being caught, but gojo keeps on kissing you with fervor. of course, not without throwing his middle finger up at his friends who chuckle behind him.

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

IV. Good Things

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ wc: 3.5k

⋆｡°✩warnings: angst, graphic violence, slight gore (blood), mentions of sickness and getting sick

⋆｡°✩: series masterlist

“Ivan, you can go ahead and clock out for today,” You say, with your arms deep within the oven, “I do need you all day tomorrow, though. You’ll probably need to close, if that’s okay with you.” 

“Yes ma’am,” You hear him from behind you. He should be satisfied with that, he was rightfully busy with school over the past few months, so he hasn’t got many hours in recently.

The boy proceeds to leave the store after getting half of the tips, and when he opens the door, a gust of cold wind blows in. You immediately start shivering. Even with the many years you’ve lived in Snezhnaya, her cold touch always froze you half to death. 

As the sun started to set, it began to be more dangerous to be outside for any longer than necessary. Your mind begins to wonder about Tartaglia, and how he’s fairing in the biting weather. It had been around 13 hours since he left you earlier that morning, so he must have felt the frostiness of the winter at some point in the day.

You need to stop thinking about him, though difficult, because the mere thought of him makes you anxious. And at this point, you can’t tell whether the anxiousness is from worriment or excitement. So instead, you try to focus your brain on closing your bakery for the day and serving your last customers. 

By the time that the least customer left your bakery, and all of your. closing tasks were finished, it was close to 11:00pm. You sigh as you turn off the lights and head upstairs, locking the door behind you.

You quickly change into some comfortable house-clothes before walking over to the kitchen to heat up the leftover soup that Tartaglia brought the night before. You heat the bowl on the stove and steeping a pot of tea, flipping through pages of a novel while you wait. Eventually, you take your filled bowl and mug over to your sofa, where you begin to eat your meal. 

You stare at the wall opposite you, looking at the vast amounts of pictures and paintings that mounted it. If anyone saw you, they'd be able to tell that something was bothering you. That may have been because of Tartaglia’s absence, or the whole Tartaglia situation itself. You can't tell.

You continue to eat and stare, trying to keep your peace amongst your sea of thoughts. And you do achieve some sort of peace for a few minutes.

That is, until you hear loud noises coming from outside the window of your back room. 

It makes you jump, at first. There’s yelling, and clashing of metal, and even screams. You quickly, yet quietly, make your way to the source of the sound. The back window faces the other side of Snezhnaya.

There isn’t a nice city street to gaze upon, but rather the isolating and barren landscape of the Snezhanayan mountains. You get close to the window, and even with minimal lighting outside, you can see that there are two groups of people having some sort of… battle. 

One group is being cornered against a large, snow-covered rock, while the other, which is much larger in size, approaches them. You realize that the more powerful group is unmistakably a Fatui squad.

There are a few agents, cicin mages, as well as a legionnaire and a vanguard. They’re massive, as well, but they’re forming a protective u-shape around someone. It must be their leader, you think, as the group seemingly follows each meticulous move from the center. You squint your eyes to get a better look at the group causing so much noise, but the darkness outside hinders your ability to get a clear look.

The vanguard lunges for the main leader of the smaller group, which you think is a band of treasure hoarders, and grabs at him. He turns the hoarder around by the back of the neck, where he’s now facing the Fatui group, about four inches off the ground as well. The Fatui leader gets closer to him, barking something unintelligible at the man before bringing his hand up to the neck of the hoarder.

The Fatuu swipes their hand across the man’s neck causing it to slit open. As the leader does so, you could swear that you saw a flash of purple-like lightning. The man’s throat opens and blood gets everywhere.  Everywhere. You put your hand over your mouth to cover a gasp as the vanguard drops the man to the ground, whose body is convulsing on its way to death. 

This is the first time you’ve seen someone die. Sure, you’ve beat some people up for commissions, even a treasure hoarder or two, but killed someone? Never, and you can’t see yourself doing so. It makes you feel nauseated to see how the man’s life was ripped away so fast. 

But you can't look away. You keep watching as the Fatui are signaled by their leader to ambush the rest of the hoarder group. You witness how they butcher each and every one of the smaller, weaker group. You see the hoarders being bashed by the vanguard’s hammer, slashed to pieces by the agent’s blades, and how cicins and frost are released by the mage and legionnaire. You want to look away, but your eyes remain glued to the scene. 

Their leader gets in on the action and is somehow more violent and bloodthirsty than the rest, despite being less muscular than the others. You can tell from here that the leader is a man, as well.

He begins to slash and stab using some sort of water-like sword, and you know that means he’s not just some Fatui soldier. He has a vision and a delusion, he must be a harbinger.

The blood of the hoarders soaks into the snow, a deep pool of crimson surrounding the entire scene. The Fatui group starts celebrating in victory as the last hoarder goes silent, and they turn around to head the opposite way. Since they now face your general direction, you attempt to hide yourself while still watching the group. They get closer and closer to the streetlights of the strip you live on, and you stay to see what exactly was going on. Their leader gets into a visible light first, and your eyes blow wide.

The leader has a disgusting grimace on his face, with eyes blown wide and a face of pure malice donning on him. His irises are so small you can barely see them, but rather, a sea of white paints over his eyes. He has a grin akin to the cheshire cat, each corner pulled to a supernatural looking upturn. It’s a face of nightmares, one so scary that it distracts you from the fact that the face belongs to

Tartaglia. 

You freeze in place.

No, absolutely no way. It cannot actually be him. There’s no way that the sweet, fun-loving Tartaglia you knew is the same man you were looking at at the moment. It couldn't be possible that the left cheek which is covered in a helpless man’s blood, was the same one that you softly brushed flour off of. The face that you woke up to this morning, the face you kissed this morning, was the same face that donned such a horrifying expression. The eyes that looked at your face with so much adoration, were unrecognizable as they were clouded over in a bloodthirsty haze.

You can’t believe it.

Out the fear of being caught, or pure weakness, you fall to the floor and out of the window's view. You can feel your dinner coming up from your stomach, but you physically cannot move. You’re shaking, you feel so numb that you can’t feel the multiple tears streaming out from your waterline and down your face. 

He didn’t just lie to you about his job, but he actively kept it from you. A harbinger one of the most dangerous and well-known individuals in all of Tevyat, has now been frequenting your bakery almost every day.

There’s no way people don’t know, right? More socially knowledgeable Snezhnayans visit your shop every day and must see you happily chatting to a Fatui Harbinger. 

It begins to make sense to you, even in a state of shock. His body being covered in scars, the fact that he never took you outside of the bakery, or how he always left in the early hours of the morning.

How many people has he killed? How many dark deeds has he done, and then come into your home to hold and kiss you as if nothing happened? 

And his face was so, so horrifying. Distorted to the point where it was almost unrecognizable to the person he’s spent almost every night with. His lightless eyes blown so wide, and even being in the darkness for so long, his pupils were almost invisible.

His smile, not that you could call it that, was so wide and full of pure bloodlust. And there was blood all over his face, the parts that you kissed, held, and brushed over with your thumb almost daily. It was in his mouth, as if he had internal injuries, and matted itself in his hair. The hair you love to brush through, grab at, and ruffle.

Your sobs are silent. At some point, you get yourself to your bathroom, where you sit beside the toilet in case you get sick after what you’ve seen. Through your choked sobs and curled up body, you feel exhaustion setting in. And eventually, with your back against the bathtub, you fall asleep against the cold tile. 

the next day

Today was a good day for Ajax. He got through with training his Fatui underlings before lunchtime, and quickly finished off his day with mandatory, though grueling, paperwork. He was working efficiently, but it was very quick-paced, even for him. He knows exactly why he was so quick in his actions today, too. He can’t deny it any longer, he’s fallen for a woman who runs a bakery.

He never thought he’d see the day. He thought his heart was too cold. He wouldn’t even say he had a heart, not after falling down and witnessing the horrors of the abyss. He cared for his family so deeply that the abyss couldn’t even take it away from him, but one other person in his heart? He couldn’t imagine a world where he could let another person into it. 

But now he’s living that reality. 

He's never felt the feeling of it outside of his immediate family, but he has to be sure about it. The feeling that warmed his frozen heart, is love. It has to be.

And it scares the 11th. 

It scares him how much he worries for you once he leaves your presence. It scares him how for the longest time, you acted as if you denied any idea of a future with him. It scares him when he thinks of you moving on from him, and finding someone else. But that recurring thought is more than fright, it brings on anger and anxiety. 

As he walks down the city, he thinks of the idea, and immediately brushes it off before his electro delusion sets off. Again.

He needs to tell you about his job, and soon.

It’s not like he intentionally meant to keep it from you from the start, it was Teucer who introduced you to Ajax through his stories, and Ajax had to keep that up around his brother. You just got caught in a protective lie.

And his name, you need to know it. He’ll give it a few more dates, Ajax thinks. He needs you in his future, without the lies and without the cover-ups.

It’s only 5:00PM, and he’s sure that he can get you to close the bakery early to go on your planned date with him. He’s wearing a more put-together and warm outfit than his usual uniform and even found himself double-checking his look in the mirror to look good for you. In his eyes, you’re so gorgeous, too beautiful for his tainted eyes to look upon. So, to try and get even get close to your level of beauty, he took some extra time in getting ready. 

He tightens his scarf around the bottom of his face. Man, the weather today is intense. Ajax begins to wonder whether going outside with you is the smartest idea. But it has to be, if it's what you want.

He’s always known that he wants to add to his family, regardless of whether he could ever love again or not. But now, he has someone he loves, and someone that he could see fitting in perfectly to his future. So he has to try, Ajax has to win the battle over your affections.

And if that means he has to be out in the cold, or anywhere else other than the comfort of your little apartment, he would stand out in the weather for thousands of hours. If it meant he could be with you.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed the bakery by a few steps. He quickly retraces them to the front door of the shop, and looks into the bakery from its large glass panes. You aren’t in there, or in sight at least, instead there’s a boy behind the counter. 

Oh hell no. 

He confidently enters the bakery and makes a bee-line to the front counter. 

“Welcome, is there anything I can help you with today?” He hears the man speak.

“Where’s Y/N?” Ajax asks with a friendly tone. But the glint in his eyes is nothing but friendly, instead, he’s staring down the man with dangerous eyes.

“Ms. Y/N is sick at the moment. If you need me to take a word for you, I’ll gladly tell her when she’s bett–”

“No,” Ajax barks at the boy before making his way behind the counter and to the door leading up to your home. He sees who he hopes is just your employee getting ready to defend your privacy, but Ajax just side-eyes him and scoffs before opening the unlocked door, and locking it from behind him.

He makes his way up the steps, as he begins to worry over your health. Sick? In the months he’s known you, you’ve never felt under the weather. Specifically, on the one day he was going to take you out and ask you to be something official with him. That can’t be intentional–right? Not after yesterday morning. 

He reaches the front door to your home, and hesitates to turn the knob. What if you’re too sick to see him, or you don’t want to see him? He finds how disgustingly dependent he is when it comes to you. 

He turns the knob, finding that it is locked. So he tries to knock, three separate times. On the third, he hears your voice. Oh thank the archons, you’re decent enough to speak. Though your voice is hoarse.

“Ivan? Is that you?” You respond from the other side of the door. Who the fuck is Ivan? 

He hears you unlock the door, and open it. He notices you before you notice it’s him, and you do look like you’ve been sick. Your hair is unkempt, and your eyes have darker circles around them, and they’re puffy. You’ve been crying. 

He’ll slaughter the person that made you this upset. 

But before he can say anything, you lock eyes with him, and sharply inhale through your teeth.

A gasp? Why are you

“How did you get up here?” You hiss at him. Your face is full of fear, as well. Ajax thinks of the thousands of reasons you could possibly be so alert, each possibility making him more anxious.

“Your door was unlocked! We were going out today... right?” He says with a nervous chuckle, trying to qualm whatever mood you were in.

“You can’t be in here,” You respond shakily, taking a step backward from him each second.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Ajax says, “Can we talk?” 

He closes the door behind him, against your wishes. His face is now as worried as yours is, yet you’re trembling in his presence. Your face is no longer looking at his, now it faces the floor. 

“You want to talk now?” Your face still looking at the floor, “Yet you didn’t want to tell me that you’re in the Fatui? That you are a harbinger?” 

Oh. 

“Y/N, I–”

“You what? Were you ever going to tell me?" You bark quietly.

He stays silent, so you continue.

"When were you going to tell me that when you weren’t with me, you were mercilessly slaughtering helpless people?” Your words are filled with venom, like you were condemning him with your statements. 

“Y/N, who told you about this?” He responds, his voice getting shaky itself. 

“Why? So you can go kill them too?” Your voice begins to raise before you take a deep breath, “I saw you! and you looked so- so…” 

“Y/N–”

“Stop it! Stop saying my name,” You yell at him, “If you wanted to keep this from me, you should maybe be quieter when you go and kill someone right outside of my home.” 

“I never meant to keep it from you,” He says, in a voice much quieter than your own.

“Last time I checked, a toy maker was a little different from being a harbinger, Childe.” 

The use of his Fatui alias shocked him. Have you just been mulling and researching over this all day? It’s unlike you, almost too unlike you. He never said that name, did he? Where did you get this information?

“A Toy-maker is what I use to keep what I do from my young brother,” He snaps, then realizing the tone he just took with you. He takes a deep breath and a pause before continuing, “I am so sorry. I really am, and I was going to tell you. But I can’t tell just anyone what I do.”

He knows the second it left his mouth, he knew he fucked up. 

“Just anyone,” You repeat with a small, pained smile, “you need to leave, now.” 

“No– Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that,” He responds, taking a step closer to you. You back away in fear, while simultaneously summoning a sword out of pure elemental energy. You bring your sword in front of you, as a means to protect you.

He stands back, out of respect and shock. You drew your weapon on him... something he never thought you'd do outside of a playful spar. His eyes widen at your gesture, as he puts his hands at his side.

“I am scared,” You almost whisper. He can feel his stomach drop when you mutter it, too. The one person, in all of Tevyat that shouldn’t be scared of him, just declared it right in his presence, "What am I supposed to do, Tartaglia? I mean, I don't even know your name!"

“You have no reason to be scared, you are one of the most protected citizens in this nation. Even when I’m not there, you’re still protected,” He tries to comfort you. But that didn’t work, because your eyes were blown wide at his confession. 

“What do you mean by that? Do you have people stalking me?” You yell at him, “Tartaglia I am scared of you. I was scared by what I witnessed. And I am scared of the face I saw on you last night," You spit out nervously. His heart cracks slightly, an unnerving and unfamiliar feeling.

"You enjoy it, don’t you? You enjoy stripping the lives away of others, I could tell. Honestly, Tartaglia, I would be okay with the whole Fatui thing, I would. But your face, and your smile, after killing someone? I don’t think I can–” You cut yourself off, “Please, just leave. I don’t want people watching me, so stop that too. You don’t need to come back either.”

He can’t find the words to explain himself any longer. He wants to scream that he loves you, and he never meant to keep anything from you.

But in a rare defeat, he begins to take steps backward toward the door. The entire time he gets closer to the door, he’s looking at you. He can see how a few tears escaped your eyes, and how the sword you’re holding is shaking along with your body at this point. 

“Alright Y/N,” He mutters quietly, before turning the knob and softly closing the door behind him. 

He could feel it physically, the heart he thought was no longer there, was breaking. He should’ve seen it coming, he had a few fleeting months of happiness, but all good things must come to an end for him.

⋆｡°✩a/n: this fic is actually anti—situationship propaganda >:). Thank you for reading, next chapter will be out soon!

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123 @esthelily @i-simp-for-giyuu @itsflowerdomethings @whatamidoing89 @luvrkise

[b0tster]

Adding to the discussion: I had figured out I wasn't a boy by the time I was 16, but for various reasons that shifted and changed for a decade and a half I stayed in the closet. The big ones as I got older were the (silly in hindsight) idea that I'd be more useful as a "cisgender" ally, the fear of being openly queer in a conservative, rural area, and, of course, the hassle of doing it. At 30, after being miserable in lockdown for a couple months, I decided enough was enough, started slowly coming out to friends, moved to a more welcoming city, and almost two years later started transitioning. I'm 33 now, and have been transitioning for almost a year and a half. It was, without a doubt, the best decision I've ever made, and I'm so happy with my progress, but if I had one piece of advice for others who are older and thinking of transitioning, it'd be to just fucking do it, and sooner than later if you are safe and able to do so. As happy as I am with my progress, there are still physical aspects of myself that I've lost due to aging that I wish I could have back and estrogen won't help, but with time and growth I've learned to make it all work for me. And the good news (at least in the province I live in) is that the hassle is slowly getting easier, I'm one of the last people in Nova Scotia who was required to go through a psych evaluation to start my transition. (The evaluation mainly consisted of the guy going "I basically just make sure you're serious and know what to expect, I don't know why we still do this, we're actually ending these soon" anyway and ended up being way less stressful than I was worried it would be)

"just fucking do it" really hits the nail on the head. even if its just admitting it to yourself. so many trans people i know say that they wish they just did it. ive yet to meet a single trans person who wished they did it later.

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S02E10 - The French Connection

The episode from which I found out that there are some islands close to Canada that belong to France somehow. And apparently now there's also a crime show set in those islands?

From Wikipedia: Saint-Pierre is a Canadian police procedural television series, slated to premiere in the 2024–25 season on CBC Television. The series stars Alan Hawco as Donny "Fitz" Fitzpatrick, a police officer with the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary; after one of his investigations gets uncomfortably close to the corruption of a powerful local politician, he is exiled to the French territory of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon, where he partners with local police officer Geneviève "Arch" Archambault (Joséphine Jobert) to to solve local crimes.

Now, wait a second. That's about half the plot of this Hudson and Rex episode!

Anyway, on to the episode.

A girl carrying baguettes on a bicycle???

"I hope he's not some pretentious Godard-quoting chain smoker." Just once, look around before you speak.

I got you now, mister Black Coffee. That's more milk than what I put in my latte.

We've already established some of the most popular stereotypes for French and Canadian people. Valerie is already snobbish and Charlie has already apologized once.

While on duty?

Oh my god his face when the dude spits out the gin in the spit bucket lmao

I like many kinds of drinks but I admit that gin leaves me uninterested. I don't know what it is about it.

Well, hello there, Aaron Ashmore, twin brother of Shawn Ashmore. For anyone who doesn't know, this not the guy who's on The Rookie, but he is the guy who was on Killjoys, with Mayko Nguyen.

People keep handing Valerie drinks and Charlie keeps saying "we're on duty". Just give up.

Why does he look so happy to be digging through trash???

Claire just said that there's no law against lying to the police. What?

Valerie, when you doubt Charlie, it's funny. When you doubt Sarah and Rex, you sound like a twat.

Well, don't sound so proud about it.

"You're more comfortable with dogs than people". Probably, but that's because people are often twats.

Charlie's face is pure comedy in this episode. So funny.

Sarah gets to go undercover AND drink gin. Well, if we call that drinking.

She says "you guys" but only looks at Charlie. You're not even subtle.

Charlie: Oh, hell to the no. This is a trap.

Valerie is not wrong here. That's gross, not to mention unsanitary. He'd put so much milk in it that it must have gone bad by now. And judging by his reaction when he takes a sip, it probably has. Never drink coffee with dairy that's been left out for more than two hours, folks.

I only wish I could capture the following scene with Sarah and Jesse competing on who's going to deliver the new evidence that they have found out. But I think Sarah's "I'll fucking murder that twink" face is very telling.

Now, cognac, I like. Although, according to google, the most expensive cognac is Henri IV, not V. I'm sure they've written that intentionally. The real cognac is worth up to 2 million dollars, by the way. People are crazy.

Charlie does not understand any of this and to be honest, neither am I. Any bottle of wine that costs more than 20 Euros is a scam. Any clear alcohol like whiskey, gin, rum, vodka, that costs more than 50 Euros is also a scam.

"No CCTV cameras anywhere. You might say that it's the perfect place for murder". I don't remember a lot of cases outdoors that were solved by watching CCTV cameras either way. Which makes sense. I mean, how many CCTV cameras does a city like St. John's need?

This is such a funny episode, really.

We must do this at least once in any Rex adaptation. I bet it's in the contracts lol

Joe: *counts* One [Valerie], two [Charlie], *skips Jesse* three of you [Rex] are going on a trip. lol poor Jesse.

*tries to speak French and gets guns pointed at him* Come on, it wasn't that bad, was it? (Yes, I'd have put that line in there if I could.)

That's why he'll move soon!

The chase scene was good too.

Ugh, Valerie has her finger on the trigger. No.

Joe: "Can anyone explain to me why I was asked to comp a 300 dollar cognac bill?" Justice isn't cheap, Superintendent. Although for that many bottles... I mean, I can't find cognac that cheap here.

We had whiskey glasses in S1, what the hell happened?

Well, I enjoyed that. I didn't remember it was such a funny episode. And I maxed out the image limit again.

[starfall-spirit]

Burning in the Starlight

Summary: In the wake of Amarantha's downfall, Feyre finds herself struggling to acquaint herself with the ways of Autumn nobility. Once a third-born daughter, now Cursebreaker, attention and gossip around the court were to be expected. What she didn't expect was the young and rising High Lord's proposal-nor her father's arrangement without her consent.

Trapped between a marriage bed and a mating bond, Feyre finds herself tangled in a new game, thanks to Rhysand's affinity for bargains. A game that would create the sort of scandal a proper Autumn lady shouldn't find herself caught in.

Feyre can't quite bring herself to care.

BitS Masterlist Ao3

@polyacotarweek Day 3: Secrets

Chapter IV: Wife, Mate, Spy

Dinner was an even more casual affair than breakfast, if that was possible. Feyre had lost track of time in the library and Rhys had found her on a window seat, curled up in a blanket with her nose in a book. She was so distracted in fact, it had only been the soft prodding of her mental shield that alerted her he was near.

“Is it getting easier to maintain?”

“Yes,” she murmured, accepting a plate of cheese, meat, and fruit from him as well as a glass of wine. “I’m not so sure that will hold true if I have to be paranoid about you poking at it.”

He frowned, sitting down beside her. “As I said, visitors and powerful officials to Autumn will be a bigger threat to you. Soon enough it will be an unconscious habit and won’t take any energy to keep it solid and in place.” He shook his head, that frown morphing to amusement. “Did you gather every pillow in the house?”

She shot him a glare, burrowing a bit deeper into her nest and balancing her plate on her knees. “What business is it of yours? It’s not like I was poking around your room.”

“And just where were you poking around, Feyre darling?” 

He leaned in just half an inch, his body hardly doing more than tilting towards her. And yet that was all it took for his scent to wash over her. For the second time that day she was paralyzed, but rather than having her control stolen, it was raw instinct bringing her to pause and recognize the thread between them. It was a thriving thing, emotions and fears and dreams tangled in and along it, pulsing between them. 

He cocked his head, watching her straighten and sit back, letting her slowly widen the space between them.

“What is beneath this house?” Rhys raised a brow, rolling a grape between his finger and thumb. “Well, there must be something beyond this place. This part of your territory can’t just be this house and the mountains beyond it. So?”

“We are rather isolated if we’re discussing the cardinal directions. Beneath the house, however, lies my… occupation, one might say. The Hewn City is unpleasant to say the least. It mostly governs itself unless someone needs a firm reminder about who is High Lord.”

“Hewn City?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Amarantha was not as clever as she pretended to be. What you found Under the Mountain was a sanitized version of the Court of Nightmares. And yes, it’s every bit as horrid as its name.”

Feyre hummed, reaching for her wine. “What is it about you wicked and dark types, holding court underground?”

She thought she had masked her distaste well enough, especially with her teasing at what she was truly coming to recognize as a facade. He merely held her stare, his face almost pensive. “Not only are the people there horrid, but it is a reminder. Those years there—” Beneath the stone where he saw no stars. Those years in Amarantha’s bed. “—won’t be forgotten. The first time I returned to court, appearing as High Lord, it was far from easy.”

“Would I have to go there? If…” If she chose him. This place. How long would it grant her this tranquility before the facade faded to the same fascism and maneuverings she was forced to endure in Autumn?

There were many subjects going unspoken tonight. “I would not force you to attend those audiences. My mother rarely did, but then she was not my father’s equal.”

“They weren’t mates?”

“Mates, yes. Equals is another matter. This morning Morrigan mentioned the traditional title a wife or mate inherits. Lady of Night, Autumn, Winter, and so on. There has never been a High Lady, as I’m sure you know through your political studies in Winter.”

“I didn’t have much need for politics or history,” she admitted with a blush. “But I’ve gathered a thing or two since returning to Autumn. Is this your next attempt at a bribe?”

He chuckled. “I’m not foolish enough to believe you would be swayed by something as shallow as power, Feyre. In fact, I’d be disappointed if that was all it took for me to win your heart. This is my pathetic attempt at transparency. Considering where I spent the last fifty years, you could say I’m out of practice in that courtesy.”

Feyre offered him a smile, letting herself scoot an inch closer. “I think you’re doing well enough, all things considered.”

His lips twitched to mirror her own. “I want everything on the table to avoid any unnecessary surprises down the road.” His expression suddenly sobered, making Feyre wary. “Speaking of power, have you discovered any consequences of your resurrection?”

She shook her head. “the usual parlor tricks I had already mastered before going Under the Mountain. You and Eris really believe something was passed to me?”

”It’s been centuries, maybe longer, since the High Lords have seen someone worthy of reviving, and I’ve yet to find any sort of record of the results. Even then, I’d imagine the results are case-by-case. We just need to find your trigger before it does you harm.”

Because fae who tried to suppress power, be they in hiding or something else, had gone mad and burned up from the inside out, trying to lock their power away. “Write to me or—” He huffed, grinding his teeth. “—or inform Eris. He can at least train you in control of Autumn gifts you may possess. Stop smirking like that.”

“You males. Always so jealous when it comes to your mates.” Ignoring his soft snarl, the shiver it sent down her spine, Feyre refocused on the subject between them. “Training the other gifts? Autumn’s ties are tumultuous on a good day, and you have few friends outside of the Night court.”

“The principles will be similar enough through each branch of magic. Once you learn to control a high magnitude of power, the rest will come easily enough. And something tells me you’re a quick study, regardless. Don’t start worrying about that until you actually have to. Especially with the other problems we’re juggling.”

“Hybern, right? Or something else?” She grimaced “You’ll have to fill me in. Vivian could only get crumbs of information behind Kallias’ wards.”

He gave another heavy sigh. “War is coming, Feyre. And fast.”

~~~~~

Rhys’s failure to give a fuck must have worn off on Feyre in the week she was away, because despite her desire to be at least well-mannered enough to show her face in high society, the sheer horror on her mother’s face was worth the risk of wearing Night Court loungewear home.

Though her father scowled at the exposure of her midriff and the sheer sleeves she wore, he had other concerns. “You carry his scent.”

There laid the roots of her concern. The scent of a mating bond left in limbo. She’d spent all week fearing it would snap into place without her consent just because of their physical attraction to one another. “A result of the bargain,” she lied smoothly. “And likely the fact he kept me close during my stay. Monitored, I mean. The last thing he was going to do was let Eris’ bride go snooping.”

There was a semi-truth to that. While there had been little to no classified information to find in the Moonstone Palace, when he spoke to his general and cousin in her presence, there was a vagueness to his words. And a slight pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” he told her once. “But even with the bond, I can’t tell you everything yet. One day I hope I can.”

“The day I accept you and your court as my own?” She had no right to feel so bitter, but it still stung for some reason.

“The very moment you do. That’s a promise, and I never break my promises.”

Shaking off the memory, she gave her parents and sisters a tight smile. Elain seemed particularly worried, Nesta simply suspicious. “It was all… taxing. But I’m unharmed.”

”I imagine so,” her father replied, voice still laced with suspicion. “Go change into something proper. It’s nearly dinner and the High Lord expects you to join him.”

Insufferable bastard. All he wanted at the moment was to interrogate her, she was certain. And perhaps try to discourage her romantic pursuit of his enemy. Still, she was sitting across from Eris at a quarter to seven serving herself a portion of roast meat and various side dishes. “What exactly is the point of this dinner, Eris?”

“Do I not possess the right to wine and dine my fiancée?”

 “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He grinned. Dangerous, was the descriptor that came to mind. It seemed she had a type. Where that thought had come from she wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t deny he was attractive, at least. “You walk freely through my enemy’s household and you expect me to just ignore it?”

Feyre sighed. “You’re being quite predictable, actually. Mates or not, he doesn’t trust me yet. And even if he did, it’s none of your business what he and his court are up to.” 

He cocked his head, one short nail clacking against his glass. “And if your mate asked you to spy on me?”

Feyre sighed. “He didn’t ask me to spy on you like that.”

His hand stilled. “Like that?” Just what does ’like that’ mean?”

She raised her own goblet to her lips. “What is your stance on the war against Hybern?”

He chuckled. “Tell me you have a bit more couth at court. That I’ll have the slightest hope at training you in political parley.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have no desire to beat around the bush this evening. That doesn’t make me incompetent. Now, Hybern.”

To his credit, Eris only hesitated a moment longer. “Hybern has had a very long time to plant the seeds of doubt in his people’s mind. Regardless of his own power, an army full of anger can be beyond dangerous. Worse than that, particularly unpredictable.”

“What is Autumn doing about it?”

That was where she saw the change in him. Where this was shutting down. “That’s none of your concern, Feyre. Unlike some, I know when to keep my cards close to my chest.”

“Sounds like a whole lot of nothing.”

Chuckling, Eris wiped his face, standing from his chair. She tensed, but remained seated as he approached, reaching for her chin. He was all too smug the next time their eyes met. “I might be convinced to share such information with my wife.” His thumb stroked down her jaw, the motion small, yet possessive. “Think on that, little wolf. I’ll call on you soon.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @highladysith // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @stars-and-scripts // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @mybestfriendmademe // @lilah-asteria

[noonbeam17]

INTRO POST NUMBER TWO !!!!!!

well now that weve hit 100 followers [thank you very much viral post that was just me vagueposting about my oc story] i should actually bother to remake this post, something that ive been putting off for a while now </3

HIIIII im noonbeam/noon but you can call me ev ^_^ i am just a weird little vocathing who goes by every pronoun under the sun i literally do not care :3 you probably know me from the soil composition diagram of flesh machine and divinity

hmm lets start this off with: MY HYPERFIXATIONS in order from most to least crazy insane about them levels

MY OCS [a whole section about them later], NUCLEAR BUBBLE WRAP [also ties in with ocs], VOCALOID, EVERHOOD, hatchetfield/starkid, wandersong

tag guide :3

#noonbeam rambles - just me talking

#noonbeam thinks theyre funny - just me talking but in a shitposty way

#noonbeam draws shit - my funny little arts

#noonbeam answers - asks :3

#noonbeam banging out the tunes - i make music too !! this will go under that tag.

check out me unvale and me artfight !!! :3

i also have a toyhouse but im basically like never active on it so </3

ALRIGHT COOL THATS OUT OF THE WAY. letters of recommendation from friends + oc ramblings under the cut

THE DRAWING BOARD JUMPSCARE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is my main ocverse :3 theres these four guys in a band. they have been chosen by the goddess oda to save the universe. they travel across the universe to defeat the cacophonous six [the supposed bad guys] and have many, many, MANY missteps along the way. like oh my lord their journey goes wrong in so so many ways. anyway you should totes ask me about tdb im so normal about tdb

NUBARA, TENNESSEE !?!?!?!? WAOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this may seem longer than the other one but half of it is just me being silly. this ocverse is very new. as in like. 4 days old as of writing this. nubara is a fictional city in tennessee where everyone and everything in it is based off at least one song by nuclear bubble wrap :3 i dont really have an overarching story or that many characters rn i just have some bits and bobs. "noonbeam," you may say, "a city named after the first syllables of each word in an artist/band on needlejuice records, with the people living in it based off of at least one song by said artist/band, and most of the people's names being wordplay on the main song they're based off of? that sounds familiar..." AND YOU WOULD BE CORRECT. @autisticzaphodbeeblebrox you did this to me. /silly

[yes this is why aub's letter of recommendation is that he did the despicable me thing to me. it was the one who introduced me to nbw]

anyway youve made it this far. have sharktopus [heads up for cartoon gore]

[ashmp3]

4 5 11 20 22 <3

4. movie of the year? omfg i just realized i fr havent been watching many new movies... i was mostly rewatching my old favs... terrible! last one i (re)watched was facken to the all boys ive loved before LMFAO. 5. TV show of the year? NOW THIS! this i can talk about. sex & the city is the obvious answer of course. yellowjackets... i watched a ton of polish tv shows and i the one i liked the most is W glebi lasu 11. Something you want to do again next year? i spent second half of june up until 31st of august on the beach, tanning and living my best life. i would go at least 4 times a week and it really brought me immense joy so for sure i want to do that again next year just become bronze goddess again hihihi 20. What’s something you learned this year? that we all have our own path, that i am very capable and i have lots to say and share with world, and i got really good at revit and rendering this year LOL 22. Favorite place you visited this year? greeceeee <3

[blindrapture]

SUNDAY JULY 3RD, 2011 (Rael's Exodus V: The Anatomy of Everything)

8:34 AM “Gooood morning, passengers. This is your captain speaking. Hope you had a good sleep. We’ve got about a day and a half left of this. Try to stick with us for a little longer, will you? Stay alive. Fitzgerald out.”

8:36 AM So tired. Why am I so tired. I dreamt of buying a home by the sea. Donnie was my wife. Except we weren’t called Donnie and Jordan; she called me “Rael” and I called her “Victoria.” In the home, there was a collection of paintings, most of which were variations on album art. They were changed to feature water. Systematic Chaos had all the ants in the city drowning. Hemispheres had Dionysus and Apollo standing over a large ocean. Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV Volume II: No World for Tomorrow had the sky cloudy and rain pouring down. The only odd one was Wind & Wuthering. It looked normal, except for.. for tentacles in the tree. Moving tentacles. I’m going back to sleep.

10:02 AM Dreamt of a long corridor. One single door at the other end of it. Except this wasn’t just any door. It was a Door. I knew. Because it was my dream! I walked down towards the Door. I heard someone walking behind me. I heard multiple people walking behind me. The first person was Donnie, I know that much. We reached the Door, and I reached for the doorknob. Then I woke up. I’m getting up now.

10:08 AM I can hear loud banging somewhere. I’m not sure where I’m going. Donnie’s coming too; she’s not sure where we’re going, either.

10:10 AM I can definitely hear someone walking nearby. I’m not keeping Tiger Stripes close. It might just be me being tired, but I don’t feel like I need to. I’ll probably die thinking like this. Oh well.

10:14 AM We’re going to the bridge. We’re going to talk to Captain Fitzgerald. I’ve been thinking. There really aren’t many of us left, especially not considering a lot of the people on this boat aren’t actually.. people anymore. They’re just Campers. Part of it. Part of EAT.

10:18 AM We’re at the bridge.

10:23 AM Captain Fitzgerald says he’s had to force himself to stay awake all last night because Doctor Jackson never showed up for his night shift. He says he’s a little shaky now, but he thinks he can make it. I asked if he wanted one of us to take over for a bit. He laughed and said we’re much too young. Donnie made him promise he’d get us through this voyage. He looked her in the eye and said “I indirectly made that promise by choosing to be your captain for this mission, young lady. And I intend on following through. Just make sure you guys stay alive. Fitzgerald out.” Then he turned back to his job.

10:27 AM We’re not entirely sure where we can go now.

10:31 AM The banging’s getting louder. Captain Fitzgerald asked if we could find out what was causing that.

10:43 AM It sounds like it’s coming from the deck.

10:46 AM I don’t see anything out here. ..TEFAJI) THAT’S A LOT OF CAMPER. There’s tons of people down there in the water, people and fucking fish, they’re down in the sea, banging on the ship. Looking up at us. Some are reaching up their hands. I’m.. well, at least we found out what was causing the banging. o_e

10:54 AM Almost back to the bridge. God, that banging.

10:57 AM ..o__o; Captain Fitzgerald didn’t even notice us come in. He’s sitting perfectly still at the wheel. Is he okay?

10:58 AM “Hello.” He said that. So he’s okay. “Did you find out what was causing the banging?” I said it was people and fish. I accidentally used the word “Campers.” >.>; “Oh. Camper. That explains it. Thank you.” Donnie asked if he was okay. “Never better. By the way, do you happen to have any more of that music Yates was listening to? I’d like to hear more of it.” I said we have plenty of it. I offered to go get my folder of CDs. “That would be perfect.” Donnie’s coming with me. I don’t blame her.

11:00 AM I saw someone going ‘round the corner up ahead. Goddamn, this place is starting to give me the creeps.

11:02 AM ..I hear someone again. I’m gonna take a small detour to find out who.

11:03 AM It’s Richard Burgandy. o.o God, I hope he’s not a Camper, too.

11:07 AM He went into his room. Left his door open.

11:08 AM He’s feeding his wife water. She’s lying on their bed. Looks… well, not “sick.” …o_o She looks comatose. Oh god. She’s a Camper. >_< And he’s feeding her water! That’s jus

11:10 AM He spotted us. I tried to tell him his wife’s gone, but he just denied it and told us to leave. ..bah. ._.;

11:15 AM We’re back at our room now.

11:16 AM Donnie closed the door and locked it. She doesn’t want to go back to the captain. Or to anyone. She says this place is pretty much a ticking time bomb. I agree. >_<;

12:03 PM We can’t just stay here, though! D: That’s not gonna get anything done, and things clearly have to be done. Besides, most of what we’ve been seeing lately have been the Campers, and EAT’s already told us it’s not hunting us. For all we know, it could be lying, but it won’t do us good to doubt every single thing we find. I just have a hunch. I dunno.

12:05 PM Donnie’s putting her foot down. She doesn’t want either of us leaving this room, not now. I’ll obey. ._.;

12:48 PM The banging’s intensifying. Donnie’s holding me tight.

1:23 PM ..it’s stopped completely. I have a badrefek9fgsadgj HELLOOOO

1:24 PM Out the window, out the window. Flying zombies. Rising up from the water, flying past our window.

1:30 PM I hear voices. A lot of voices. “COME OUT, INDISEN!” It’s the voice of the Camper.

1:38 PM A lot of footsteps outside the door. >____<;;

1:39 PM DOOR HELLO HI YES? NO INDISEN HERE. THANK YOU, BYE. ohgod

1:40 PM They kicked down the door there were so many of them, one walked in and looked around, it saw nothing so then they all moved on to the next room. They’re doing an Indisen hunt.

1:41 PM They’re still walking past our door; there are a lot of them. Most of them, I don’t even recognize. Folks with eyes missing, leeches on every limb, some even with what looks like what used to be wooden legs, and a lot of torn clothing. Every single poor soul lost at sea participating in an eldritch witch hunt. Tiger Stripes, give me strength.

1:45 PM I hear screaming coming from down the hall. Sounds like Richard.

1:46 PM “Give me my wife back,” I heard. ._.;;

2:02 PM They’re still going. There are a lot of Campers, all marching systematically past our door. They move as one, for they are one. Every other head is turned to look inside whatever door they pass, while the other set of heads face forwards. I imagine that’s the perfect way to cover all directions. It’s hard for me to picture, but I can take a guess as to how they work. EAT used the analogy of my arm gaining individualistic sentience, as the Campers are basically EAT’s arms. So they’re all just.. parts of its huge self. EAT can move them individually, just as I can move all my fingers individually, or EAT can move them all at once in a system of eldritch order, much like operating my legs separately but still at once in order to walk, using my arms to balance my weight, and shifting my body forwards to get myself going. To a being considerably different, an alien or I guess a cockroach, I would look just like an eldritch horror. And that’s basically what this is. Keyword being “basically.” I mean, not even I can make my arms grow wings. o_e

2:10 PM Some of them have longer arms. o___o

2:14 PM I’m sure I saw one using its arms to help it walk. Its arms were that long.

2:40 PM ..all of them have long arms now. And wings. Gotta admit. I don’t wanna know what’s gonna happen to the Indisen when they find it. I wonder what drove them to stop observing it and start hunting it. I wonder how the hell it’s managed to avoid them for so long.

3:32 PM “COME WITH ME, INDISEN.” All of them. o_e It’s hard to get used to that. I hear struggling. The Campers are going in the other direction now.

3:44 PM …O___O Okay. Right. Indisen, Ms. Desmond, being dragged. Didn’t quite want to see that. Oh god hug me Donnie

3:59 PM Oh god, so many splashes. I take it they took her down with them. Oh god, I don’t want to think about that.

4:13 PM …something’s wrong. The boat’s not moving. We’re going to the bridge.

4:20 PM Passed by Richard’s room. He’s sobbing. ._.;

4:27 PM ..Captain Fitzgerald is gone. This is trouble.

4:39 PM Richard doesn’t want to be bothered, but we really need to talk to him. Oh god, how can we do this? We don’t know how to drive a ship.

4:41 PM Donnie’s got an idea. She’s running off. Be careful, ma’am. D: Please.

4:52 PM …oh god, why do I still hear people walking nearby? o_o;; Please be Donnie.

4:56 PM ..Donnie’s back. u_u; Okay. Hi. She’s got Rogers’ papers. I fucking love that awesome girl.

4:59 PM Richard wants some time alone. He wants to read Rogers’ papers. We’ll let him.

5:04 PM Donnie wants to talk to me about something.

5:09 PM …she says, when in the room, she couldn’t find Rogers’ papers. Then she heard footsteps nearby. She left the room and saw a man. She said it was the same man from before, the one who handed her the receipt in Blackpool. Fedora, slendercoat, sunglasses, mustache, dark hair. He gave her the papers, then he tipped his hat, turned and left. It was Bones. o:

5:15 PM I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what the hell Bones is up to. How the hell he’s been following us, how he’s known exactly what to do and where to be. How he’s possibly been on this ship all this time without anyone knowing. First thing I’m gonna do in the States is look for him.

5:29 PM The boat’s moving again!

5:31 PM “Boy and girl, uh.. Jordan and Donnivan, I believe. It’s Richard. I.. I’ll get us to America. I have to. It’s what Meredith would have wanted, what Bill would have wanted, and.. it’s what Rogers would have wanted, too. “Besides. We can’t stay here in titan's country, out in the deep blue sea, under the same red sky as I hear they have in Asia, in America, in.. see, we’re all in the same Earth, and everyone’s suffering! We can’t sit around, it’s no good, we’re…” He’s crying. ”..I’ll get us there. If we work together, I promise we can do as the captain would have wanted. We can stay alive. Richard out.”

5:33 PM Good work, Richard. ..good work.

5:40 PM We’re back in our room. All is quiet. The ship is moving at a faster pace than before. There’s not much left before we arrive. It’s been quite a journey, journal. u_u;; In the end, there’s only three of us left. Too many unsuspecting people fall victim to the sea. Throughout history, the ocean has offered some of the world’s greatest mysteries and unexplainable disappearances. I guess we’re starting to find out what gods have been responsible for it all.

9:45 PM We’re going to bed. We’ll be touching down in America tomorrow. Then our big-ass journey will resume.

11:00 PM three

(Attached: “To conclude my writings on Salmacis, I’d may as well discuss the physical contortions. The transformations. Her Camper– both singular and plural are ‘Camper,’ that’s generally agreed as the term for her individual bodies– start off as regular people on the outside, but all their blood is now water. Her water. The water is her. Once it gets into your mind, it can start to mess with your anatomy, make your body grow entire evolutionary marvels in the blink of an eye. EAT is evolution supreme, evolution itself gone sentient and now at last awake,EAT has studied the anatomy of Everything in All Time. EAT knows exactly how far your skin can stretch– and regularly tests that to its extremes– EAT knows exactly what organs it can deem unnecessary and how to turn them into wings of water and cartilage and organ tissue- EAT knows how much digestive fluid your brain can take before it melts, and EAT knows how to hotwire your brain to be ready for more. EAT means no harm. It’s only curious. You can tell by the look in her eyes, in the eyes of every Camper: Always blue like the Earth, always glazed over, always taking in everything on the inside and utterly comatose, dead on the outside. EAT does not care. If it wanted, it could snap her fingers and have a band of a hundred Camper performing the most complicated symphony using the wrong instruments, transposing every part on the spot, and it’d still only be as much effort as a blink to her.”) (Attached, flipped: “Ask yourself this, how many songs have you heard that were written by a human? How many books have you read that were written by someone who possessed their own mind, singularly and without caveat? EAT could have written OH GOD THE RAPTURE IS BURNING. Who’s to say it didn't? Salmacis knows. We don't. And we must trust her, because there are still secrets left to tell.”)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[caluski]

any particular cafes you want to visit?^_^ please please go into as much detail as you want i love reading about your cafe plans/adventures

i dont really wanna talk about the cafes in my city tbh to like... at least try and maintain some anonymity online lol BUT there are so many cafes that id love to see one day outside of my little local spots. whenever im writing, i like to put in real places into my stories, so it always gives me an excuse to browse thru google maps like a fucking maniac... ANYWAY, one of the things that i love SO much about cafes is when they have more than one floor. or like even the base floor + like this weird little inside balcony thingy, half-floor or whatever can i call it. honestly im not sure why! theyre so exciting this way, although im sure the staff thinks differently bc its more of a bother to walk up and down especially with hot beverages....

these pics are of "tociekawa" in Kraków that i thought was really cute. i especially love cafes that are cozy first and foremost but this one, while it doesnt seem to be having comfy seats (like couches and armchairs and such), it does have the attic (?? idfk anyway u see the pics), although unfortunately it seems small, but either way the whole place looks so cute. i really like their interior design.... the few colors here and there popping up... a lot of potted plants which is always soooooo great in a cafe. im not even a plant person, i cant take care of flowers even if my own damn life depended on it!!! but i do LOVE plants in cafes so much. i love it when cafes are also kinda like..... patchworky...... the ones that are very fancy and have this "dark academia moodboard" feel to it, but the patchworky ones, theyre the best kind out there. the brick walls, the mismatched furniture, the feeling of everything being old but not antique-old but more like dumpster diving-old, like the stuff youd find in someones garage or basement...... the decor being very DIY'd, like that last one ive been to on monday had these empty cans of tomato pulp bought in lidl reused as pots for dead wild flowers lol. i love it so much. ive noticed pizzerias do this too, especially with "mutti" passata cans. its always such a weirdly cute thing to see.

[simonhbishop]

Titan's War

Soundtrack

I. He'd once been a Beta. One not only in charge of the younglings' training, but also his pack's defenses from enemies. It's not something many people knew other than the Dominion—Bishop Carpentry was builtto become a safe house if needed. There's even a food reserve and a large basement to welcome people. So while it's a shock to hear of the attack on the Medical Center, Simon is quick to react. After making sure his staff will be safe, and that they need to protect people coming in for protection, he leaves. It's a visceral need to help people.

II. Beyond sex, he's never lost control, never like that. Not only that, the hallucinations inflicting him are driving him even madder. There's no way for him to know how many people he's killed, but he's left none alive, cause none deserved to. He needs to stop him... his best friend, from selling any more pups. This isn't about survival, but control and that's not a man he can follow anymore. He meets a wolf named Vincent, and together, they find camaraderie in their shared insanity as they look for a lost wife and a sister. They get separated eventually.

III. He's luckily on his way back to his business when the third bomb hit, and too far away to be affected. So he goes to the park to see how he can help out. He stumbles upon a father and his two children. Both kids cannot talk nor hear, and the father is blind. Simon manages to calm them all, before he guides them and another half dozen people to Bishop Carpentry, making sure to remain unseen by the enemy. He hopes this won't last too long, because it pains him to see so many suffering this way. Children shouldn't suffer...

IV. He's close to the Dominion, when he hears of the fall of Crimson Library, and while he's aware of the danger, Simon cannot stop himself from trying all he can to help. Bishop Carpentry is almost full now, but if he needs to put people in his house, or hidden on his patch of land, he will. It breaks his heart to see the panic settling, but also mages losing themselves to their growing powers which they have no control over. Even more so, the depowered supernaturals. He hears of what the Alpha did, sees what remains...

V. When the fire happens, nothing prepares him for the sight awaiting him. It's abnormal. What would push people to such cruelty, especially against their own kind? Simon tries to help, also give comfort to those alone in their last moments. At this point, he's sobbing. There's so many small bodies around him, burned to the bones. He'd come to Covaire city to find some kind of peace,  but this feels more and more like penance. And while he knows he deserves it, he cannot bear to see so many children dying in such terrible ways. This is not fair...

VI. He shouldn't have gone out again. Should've stay there, help around, and calming people, but the battle hadn't been over. So there he is, moments before losing consciousness, wondering if the few he'd grown close to would survive. Always thinking about others before his own well-being. It's probably why he'll die here, buried underneath a large wall of bricks, that crushes his body. He'd been too exhausted to get out on time. But at least, they all got out alive. And maybe, just maybe, you where spared that day by your best friend, so you could die here today.

@wolfknightpoe

[gentlehousenicole]

Dude, if Ananta is even half as good when it comes out as it looks right now, I am going to be so cooked and Nicole's getting a new AU. The hype for me is real with this one, and that hasn't happened in a long time.

I am literally just staring at the game's home page and letting the music loop as I write this, because they basically brought my dream city to life and it's all so beautiful.

But between this, obsessively mainlining Zenless Zone Zero to the point of desperation, getting into Strinova and crying over Lofi Girl aesthetics, I've had time and cause to think a bit about the nature of stylistic storytelling within the imagery of anime media, and how that may be more important now than it's been in decades.

In my mind, anime has always been fundamentally nostalgic, or at least it has been for much of its existence.

Now, by that I don't mean I specifically get nostalgic about one bit of anime or another - I actually had very little experience with the medium before beginning my career as a media critic as an adult, so anime has mostly been a subject of professional academic curiosity for me - I mean that an earnest engagement with the theme of nostalgia and the role it plays in people's lives seems baked into the medium at a core level.

Whether nostalgia is an explicit theme of the work or not, it will more often than not look nostalgic, and you'll know it when you see it: Those ultra-vibrant, crystal clear saturated hues, almost impossibly-vivid bright blue summer skies and the sparkling light dancing and playing across every single surface...Put together it has the tone and cadence of a dream; bringing to mind the film photographic memories that manifest when we experience a genuine moment of nostalgia.

Well, they appear for me at any rate.

And anime developing where it has over the period it has encouraged this, I think: Immediate postwar Japan, the bubble years, and the Lost Generations. Daicon IV is an utterly foundational work for a reason, and all you have to do is put on it, Project A-ko, some of the original Dirty Pair adaptations, a lot of the early Pokémon games, Non Non Biyori or basically any Studio Ghibli movie to see that play out.

I'm generalizing of course, and like any artistic medium anime can and does explore a wide spectrum of themes and concepts. But I still think there's an argument to be made for nostalgia and a sense of idyllic yearning being at the heart of anime. It simply makes too much sense given its origins and the sorts of people who have historically been - and continue to be - drawn to create it and consume it:

Ultimately, we're all disaffected, hopeless romantics with an innocent, childlike and optimistic side we've never lost...Aren't we?

And equally, I think it makes a lot of sense why this style seems to be working so well in the specific context today of games like Zenless Zone Zero, Strinova and Ananta: Our need for hope and idyllic fantasy (in the broad sense, as I believe this extends far beyond the "fantasy" genre) has debatably never been more critical, and this trifecta of releases in particular seem to me to really have their fingers right on the pulse of the zeitgeist.

It also makes sense to me they'd emerge in a globalized Chinese context; created by developers who likely have a lifelong passion for nostalgic anime themselves in a culture where the past and the way people frame or re-frame it is an ever-present concern.

What's so striking to me about these three games, ZZZ in particular, is how they all seem to so masterfully deliver us that nostalgic fantasy we crave (it's often said ZZZ has a "Y2K aesthetic", but what I actually think is brilliant about it is how it mashes up cultural signifiers from basically any point in the past 50 years to both make something new and cater to as many age groups as possible), while at the same time having some genuinely sobering and mature things to say about nostalgia itself.

New Eridu mourns Eridu, but the question of whether or not the latter was ever truly a paradise is never resolved to anyone's satisfaction. In Strinova the philosophical split between the Scissors, who view the titular Strinova as a false paradise ruled by plutocrats and believe a long-forgotten Earth to be the paradise humanity should never have abandoned, and the PUS, who genuinely believe in Strinova's potential and ideals, is the central conflict. And while we know very little about Ananta and it's probably still a ways off as of this writing, we can already get the feeling the juxtaposition of delirious, dreamy escape into romanticized anime mundanity and a kind of SCP Foundation-, Haruhi Suzimiya- or Gravity Falls-esque War on Weird is going to be a core tension.

They're not at all afraid to get philosophical and metaphysical about it either: String Theory, Eridu, Ether, Ananta, Phaethon, Falcon-Skin, Absolute Principles, the Primordial Waters...These are all things I freely admit I'm not used to seeing tackled in video games, let alone video games like this, and I'm really enjoying being constantly surprised by them nearly every day.

And that's why all three games are such masterful executions of the anime medium: They're an exquisite balance of youthful desires and genuinely adult thoughts and feelings (yet one more reason Zenless Zone Zero really should have put its foot down and gone for an M rating instead of a T) with one of the single most attractive presentations I've ever seen in my entire life (though I also admit it may just be these development houses are really damn good at making games that appeal to me specifically, which is probably worth a post all its own). There's something genuinely special and even therapeutic in that, and I think it could really help a lot of people right now to explore it like I am.

[feliosfarkus]

“Hi, how can I help you?”

The man looks like he’s going to the red carpet, not some coffee shop on the bad side of town.

“I'd like a triple shot macchiato with black current syrup in a black mug.”

“I’m not sure we have black current syrup, I’ll look in the back!” I say, lying through my fucking teeth. I’m a new hire, but I memorized the inventory of this place fast. We don’t have black current syrup, we never have. I just head to the back to take a quick 5 minute break, but on the way there I bump into my boss.

“Hey Andrew” she says, out of breath, “what you doing back here?” I’ve learnt through many, many, many attempts that she sees through even the best lies, so honesty is the best policy with her.

“A customer ordered a macchiato with black current syrup, we don’t have any so Im just taking a little break.” As soon as I said the words black current, she stiffened up, scared almost.

“What was the full order?” she says with an unnervingly large amount of authority.

“Tripple shot macchiato with black current syrup, which honestly sounds disgustingly sw-“

“What color mug did he want?” she asks, staring at the man with apprehension.

“He wanted a black cup, how did you know he asked for a specific color mug?”

Sighing, she says “Go take a break, I’ll take this order.” And because Ive been standing for the last 4 hours, I head to the breakroom and flop down on the couch. Social media keeps me entertained for a bit, but my mind starts wandering.

How has this place not been robbed? We’re right in the center of the worst part of the city, and the places across the street get hit at least twice a month. I’ve been here 3 months, no-one has so much as brandished a gun in here. But also, everyone is clearly armed. They hide their pistols and submachine guns well, but something always gives it away. And the people who come in, we got people like Mr. Sweet-tooth back there, wearing a suit thats probably worth 3 months of my rent, but then we have homeless people right behind him, and everyone in between, all armed to the teeth, all looking over their shoulder. And half the people who come in don’t even order, just exchange manilla envelopes and a few words. This place has got to be a front for something, but what?

My boss raps her knuckles against the doorframe of the breakroom, startling me back to reality. “I took care of his order, never had a black mug order before.”

“Ok, what the hell does that mean? what the hell is this place? Why am I the only employee?” I ask, tone more harsh than intended.

Before I get the chance to apologize, she holds up her hand, and keeps it there for an agonizingly long time. Finally, she breaks the silence. “You’re right, its time you learnt what this place is. Follow me.”

She leads me to the basement, door locked with a lock i’ve tried to pick but it never worked. She slides a keycard into a crack in the exposed brick and I hear something unlatch.

She opens the door, letting me in. I’d tell you more, but then I’d have to kill you. Us assassins love our secrets.

A regular and oblivious person works at a coffee shop not knowing its a place of ceasefire for assassins and mercenaries.

[jrpneblog]

Long trip for North End in punishing schedule

North End make the longest trip of the season on Saturday when we take on Plymouth Argyle at Home Park, a round trip of over 600 miles for the Deepdale faithful. The game in Devon comes on the back of a decent week with North End taking four points from the two home games against Coventry and Norwich at the start of an intense seven game run in twenty two days. After the trip to Plymouth on Saturday we welcome Arsenal to Deepdale next Wednesday evening in the fourth round of the Carabao Cup as we look to cause a major upset in the competition and get to the quarter final stage for the first time in our illustrious history.

Last Saturday North End claimed all three points from Mark Robins Coventry City, with a 1-0 win, courtesy of an Emil Riis header twenty minutes from the end in what turned out to be a quite tight affair. North End shaded the chances in the game and shaded the play but if it had not been for Freddie Woodman diving to his left in the dying seconds of the match it could have have easily finished with the spoils shared. North End seem to have the jynx over the Sky Blues at Deepdale and I think this was the twenty second league game that Coventry have come to Deepdale without going away with a win. A truly incredible record.

On Tuesday evening Norwich City were the visitors to Deepdale and I thought the Canaries were the best side we have seen at Preston in the league this season. North End started the game like a house on fire and were two goals up inside twelve minutes from a Sam Greenwood penalty and a well constucted goal from Duane Holmes. North End put a massive amount of energy into the first quarter of the game and could not quite hold out until half time before the visitors pulled one back. When Duffy equalised after an hour it was very nip and tuck but North End finished the better and were well deserving of a point from an entertaining game under the Deepdale lights.

On Saturday we travel to Plymouth to take on Wayne Rooneys team who lie two points and five places below North End in 21st position in the Championship. Having said that the Pilgims have won three and drawn one of their five home games this season scoring nine goals and only conceding six. North Ends last waay win in the Championship came at Home Park way back in March when a Liam Millar shot from the right hand side was the difference between the two teams. It wont be an easy game for North End, none in the Championship are, but I think we are playing well enough to win this game and make it a very good week with seven points out of nine for Hecky`s charges.

On Wednesday evening we welcome Arsenal to Deepdale for our 4th Round Carabao Cup tie in what promises to be a grand occasion for those inside Deepdale. I, personally, am very disappointed with ticket sales to date leading up to the game but there are many reasons why this should be the case. It is, of course, a free hit for North End and although there will be speculation on how strong a team Arsenal will put out but you can bet your life that there will still be plenty of stars on show and the least we can do is give Hecky and the boys a full house to run out to. So if you havent made up your mind whether to go or not to go, get yourself down to Deepdale as you may well see a bit of history being made.

And finally this week:- I had a long discussion the other day on whether VAR would be an improvement if introduced into the Championship. I am definitely in the No camp on this one as Ive seen too many decisions go in favour of the so called big teams in the Premier League. On that basis alone ...it`s a NO from me!

.

MATCH PREDICTION -

PLYMOUTH ARGYLE (A) League - Away win

ARSENAL (H) - Carabao Cup 4th Round - Away win

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JR`s HIGH FIVES

Arsenal to beat Liverpool 6/4

A £5 Stake returns £12.50 on bet365

SEASONS STATS

Returns £37.63 Stake £55.00

Percentage profit+/-loss - 31.58%

Predictions 11 won 3 lost 8