#ive had it suggested to me so much and it always sounds so absurd to focus deeply on things i cant ignore......

[autisticlee]

sometimes I have autistic realizations that hit really hard.

I'm listening to a podcast (science vs) episode about meditation and what it does/how you do it/if it works. first there was an example of a meditation for mindfulness and focusing on breathing and how it feels. I was thinking how that seems pointless because i'm always aware of how it feels to breathe: my chronically stuffy nose, asthma, ribcage/back hurting if I breathe too deep/etc. but I already knew I have to think about breathing more than most people or I might accidentally hold my breath, and my chronic stuffy nose is very annoying to deal with.

then this part i'm at now talks about how most people go through taking a shower without really realizing they're doing it, like they arent feeling the shower sensations and just go through the motions. so mindful showering is feeling the water on your skin, feeling the temperature of the water and how it changes, etc. "being present, knowing what it feels like, knowing you are there and alive and having that experience..." and that's what mindfulness is.

the thing about me, due to being autistic, i'm basically practicing mindfulness 24/7 against my will. my sensory units in my brain are on constant overdrive and I cannot turn them off. i'm aware of every sensation and feeling and sound and etc at all times and can't ignore them.

the big realization this gave me is that...I'm profoundly aware of being alive and present. i'm overly aware of what i'm experiencing at all times. while most people can use mindfulness to ground themselves from overwhelm and anxiety caused by every day life worries, I GET anxiety and overwhelm from mindfulness-like experiences.

how do i tune things out and turn off my brain? I need an anti-mindfulness method that isn't dissociating out of my mind 😅

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter VI

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m glad to deliver the sixth chapter of my story! I want to thank you, from the bottom of my soul, for your support. It really means a lot to me!<3

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV )(Chapter V) (Chapter VII coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 449

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The buzzing sound of the alarm loaded Kurapika's ears.

This time it was not a "Tic-Tic" sound. It was an unfamiliar tune. Starting with sonsy drums and trumpets. The music was in crescendo with a chorus that sang "love, love, love" until a male voice sang 

"There's nothing you can do that can't be done~"

"Nothing you can sing that can't be sung~"

A cheesy way to start the day. It was different from the rest of his mornings. It felt warm. Only it wasn't the kind of heat he habitually woke up wilting from a nightmare. It was the feeling of homely warmth and tenderness. Remembering the comparable emotion you have when you are unwell and your mother hugs you.

He sensed something twirl beside him, he began to open his somnolent eyes. That fatigue was not the usual either. Instead of a burning and stinging in the eyes, he felt a comfort he didn't want to abandon. The movements continued until they extended to the covers that surrounded him, to ultimately calm and recover a state of calm. The music ceased as well. It wasn't his pillow, it wasn't his bed, and the chamber was alien to him. It surprisingly smelled distinct. The first item he saw when his sight adjusted were frizzy (hair color) (curls/waves/strands). (Y/n) was standing on the left side of the bed. They had a bed-hair. He certainly wanted to see that goofy bed-hair very more often.

"Shhh shhh, sorry I disturbed you."-their voice was crispy.-"Go back to rest, I'll return a touch later to nudge you." 

Kurapika allowed himself to a defeat and laid his head back on the pillow. Some seasons had passed since he had a restful night. He was able to hear the sound of an opening door for it to immediately close, followed by the flow of water. The door was opened again, and an extra further door gave a short crack noise. Kurapika doesn't quite recall how long it lasted, but (Y/n) returned to the room. They placed a cup of hot black coffee on the night table.

"What time is it?"-Kurapika groaned and tried to rejoin.

"Good morning sunshine, and it's 4:23 am"-they answered, sitting in bed with another cup in their hands.

"Why are you doing so early? Not even I arise that betimes."- He stirred early, he had to. But this seemed absurd.

"I must be in the psychiatric ward. I have patients who rely on me. I'll be exiting the home in a moment."-He was shocked at how composed they were, considering the events of the night before. They continued their routine impassively as if nothing disagreeable had occurred.-"Would you desire for me to drive you to the Nostrade mansion?"-(Y/n) suggested to him with a smile. He almost forgot he had to work that day.

"I will get prepared for the moment,"-He sat, resting his back on the bed frame, reaching for the coffee.”And your proposition would be convenient." The caffeine intake helped him shake the drowsiness off his mind.

"I would be amazed to propose to you something to eat, but I only possess chocolate robots at the moment. You don't exactly appear the type of person to have that for breakfast."-they provided an apologetic smile, half-joking half-ashamed.

"Do you ever eat something besides sweets?"-It was agreeable to joke a little in the mornings.

"I ate the flowers you gave me."-(Y/n) answered with the most solemn voice they could deliver. The first time in his 19 years of life that Kurapika heard something of that bearing.

"You ate them?"-Although it was evident that it was not a joke, it seemed so outlandish that he did not see another explanation.

"Yes! Peonies and carnations are edible! Although they taste sweet and fruity. So it might count as sweet." they affirmed smiling.

 Sometimes the sincerity of that person perplexed him. They could say the most unthinkable things in the most sudden moments. Above all, with an enormous naturalness. He even wondered if they were even conscious that they did.

The handy part of sleeping dressed was that getting ready was rather quick. Once he put on the black jacket, the wrinkles on his shirt were hardly noticeable. Though, as much as he would love to stay and talk to (Y/n) all morning, the depart ended up arriving. What if the two of them could skip work with an excuse? It was possible. However, both were stiff with their obligations, so it was not feasible. Kurapika was going to show up pretty early for work, he didn't care if it meant to spend more time with (Y/n).

During most of the voyage, he stared at (Y/n) driving and chatting. 

"You always use the same earrings." He remarked, staring at the drop-shaped pearl pendants dangling from their ears. They turned to see him and agreed.

"You also wear your red earrings every day."-they were getting close to the Nostrade's residency. 

"You're not wrong."-Between spending the day with Neon or with (Y/n), he preferred the latest option by a lot.

"I rarely am, dear. I wish you a good day!"-Kurapika no longer remembered the last time someone wished him a good day in the morning.

 ~

8 pm, another day had passed. If Neon's attitude hadn't improved since the beginning of her therapy, Kurapika had no idea if he would still put up with her whims. Whoever worked for her without attempting against her life was a saint. However, his crusade hadn't ended yet, remote from that. The advantage of that specific job brought was being able to maintain close contact with the flesh trafficking industry. Kurapika was finally exiting through the vast gate of the Nostrade mansion. Being able to get to work on his vendetta again.

"Kurapika!"- a voice he knew fully squealed. He turned in the direction it came from, to make sure it wasn't a dream. He had his suspicions about working for Neon for so long that it gave him some variety of brain damage. Luckily not. It was (Y/n), running towards his direction, nearly stumbling in the middle of the path. If they were coming to him like that, something serious must have happened.

"(Y/n)! What are you doing here?! What happened?! Aren't you supposed to be on guard? Why didn't you call me? "-the blonde interrogated packed with worry.

They were panting laboriously, as they inclined on their legs to catch their breath and raised their index asking for a moment. 

"I'm presumably to be on my pause, plus you weren't answering your cell phone..."-their face was darker due to the lack of oxygen-"I received information regarding a pair."- they murmured to be prudent. To avoid malicious overhears, they continued their chat in the car. 

"I had a proposal from an acquaintance to purchase a pair of scarlet eyes!

The only setback is that it has to be tonight because he has another interested. For my part, with the ward, I'm available. I told the nurses that I would use my recess and would be back."- It was explicit that (Y/n) had already taken charge of organizing the plan so that it could be implemented immediately.-"Reasonably, I haven't confirmed the purchase yet. As the principal concerned I judged proper to tell you first."

"This is a fabulous opportunity, thank you (Y/n). Confirm our attendance."

It was agreed that the purchase would take place at 9 o'clock, In a black market shop located in YorkNew's downtown. The pair would cost 1,450,000 Jennys.

Although the connections and information of (Y/n) were trustworthy and had been valuable until the present day, Kurapika still wanted more information regarding the plan. He wanted to prioritize their safety.

"Where do you know the individual from?"- Kurapika hinted, trying to obtain information without directly doubting the references.

"I have... I've purchased articles from him before.  I am a frequent customer, he maintains me abreast of his inventory as well as offers."- they informed.-"In those commerces, information travels at great speed. As I've been seeking information on the scarlet eyes, he found out."-He could then conclude it was a credible provider.

Since the dilemma was solved, he could ease a bit.-"In the first instance, when I listened to your voice, I believed I was hallucinating, and working for Neon for a prolonged amount of time had caused me brain damage!"-Kurapika laughed

"Oh! But it's plausible."-they did not understand it was merely a joke-"Chronic Stress produces autophagia in neural stem cells. Normally autophagia is a process to protect cells from unfavorable conditions through the digestion of inner cell materials. However, under certain circumstances, this survival method degenerates into self-destruction. Essentially, the neural cells commit suicide, concluding in brain damage. Plus, chronic stress enhance the risk of neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer's disease."-It sometimes was bothersome to date a psychiatrist...-"Even if it was only a pun, I'm a tad concerned about you, Kurapika."-At the end, they got the joke, they were just being a doctor. 

Kurapika couldn't decide whether to be frustrated for his joke or flattered that (Y/n) cared so much about him. 

~

At the accorded place an hour, they entered the shop. An old man with big glasses and a suit greeted them.

"Mx. (Y/n)! It's always pleasant to see one of my favorite customers!"-his voice was croaky and rusty.-"I'm glad you accepted the offer."

The elder was very polite towards (Y/n).

"Helle Mr. Richard, I may say the same. I brought Kurapika with me, my bodyguard,"-the same strategy as the previous times.-" he will accompany us."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr.Kurapika."-the rusty voice spoke once more.-"Since we are dealing with a more elegant object, it is stored in the back room. Be so kind to accompany me there."- the so-named Richard pointed at a big wooden door at the back of the store as he directed it. 

He opened the door for them after they were all inside, closed the door again. Richard sat at the end of a big ornamented oak desk. There were also oak chairs with padding on the other side of the desk. The man motioned for them to sit down. He continued to pull out the vials with the pair of scarlet eyes.

"Both of you can confirm that they are authentic. And the agreed price was 1,450,000 Jennys"-The white-haired senior placed the vials in the middle of the table and reached out his hand, waiting for the money.

(Y/n) took out of their customary side-bag an envelope to deliver it with both hands. The elder took it and pulled out the cash and began to count. All the actions were carried upon the table and in the view of all presents.

"Everything is perfect, as always. Thanks, always a pleasure to do business with you Mx-" 

The sentence was interrupted by a loud crash.

The wooden door had been knocked down, and a group of armed men began to enter the place. With the loud noise (Y/n) swiftly took the vials with the scarlet eyes and pressed them protectively.

"What is happening here, what is this intrusion into my establishment?!"-Richard exclaimed, his voice sounding even rustier.

"These two attacked one of the associates some time ago."- One of the men, presumably the head of the gang, spoke. He had a sloppy beard and reeked of cheap tobacco. He also had a disastrous taste for fashion. He wore a tacky shirt with half the buttons unbuttoned, garish orange fishnets that didn't match at all, and a vulgar red hanky that was sticking out of his shirt's pocket.

"Both of you, don't move. The information runs around here."-the men approached to talk directly to Kurapika and (Y/n).-"We learn that a pale man with blond straight hair wearing a suit and a (skin/color) person with (hair color) (curly/wavy/straight) hair who dressed pretentiously with flowers, both searching for scarlet eyes, attacked one of our sellers. What do you think, we were not going to find you?"-the pestilence was even more intense up close.-"The boss is not far away. You'll see, duo of idiots."

The situation was complicated, Kurapika couldn't use most of his chains if it wasn't against the Spiders. (Y/n) could only use Misericordiae, since they did not know the attackers adequately to use their distinct technique. Plus with the one they had available, they couldn't kill. There was the possibility of a melee attack. Only it was the least viable option. Kurapika would have to use his scarlet eyes or (Y/n) use their feline form. It involved putting their identities in jeopardy, and they still didn't know if the circumstance was desperate to get to that point. The best choice was to divert the group of men to head to the window and jump to escape. The reversal was that to minimize the damage from the shattered glass, they would have to shield themselves with both arms. 

"(Y/n), leave the eyes. I'll use my Dowsing Chain to move the enemies aside and leave by the window."-Kurapika bossed after a moment of reflection. It was still the option with the highest probability of success.

"No, these eyes belong with you. I'm not leaving without them."-(Y/n) growled. They had a look of pure completion, almost as if that judgment contained all their credos compressed.- 

Kurapika couldn't avoid conjuring "This is the worst moment to unleash their stubbornness."-"(Y/n), listen to me!"-he was starting to lose his patience.

"No! I have an approach. Trust me please."-(Y/n) glanced down at their left hand, laced with white ribbon. It was gradually diffusing across the carpet. 

Before any action could be taken, a man, much properly dressed-The leader of the deluded men's ball, most likely.- entered the room yelling with a deep crusty voice and a foreign intonation.

"Okay pack of idiots. That in the end, you did your silly duty. Where are the two rats?".-The man was flat and plump. He was middle-aged, with a round face, almost bald. He was dressed in a semi-formal, dark gray suit:  he wore a geometric patterned tie and matching tissue in his vest's pocket. He entered taking big steps and turned to Kurapika and (Y/n).

At the moment he saw them, his eyes widened, and voiced full of shock.

"(Y/n)?!"

[milknette]

day 01 - cafe

i'll make a cup of coffee, with the right amount of sugar.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

i.

MARINETTE doesn't exactly know what makes her answer yes.

Maybe it's from all the overnight shifts she's been taking, or the coffee fumes she's been inhaling daily finally taking a toll on her brain— or maybe it's because he's the most handsome man she's ever seen walk into her cafe (fact: it's most definitely the third reason), but Marinette can't bring herself to say no to him.

And as things always come with her, a well-intentioned yes easily snowballs into a mess of epically huge proportions. (Though in her defense, she doesn't know that yet.)

Marinette plasters on a smile directed at the customer. "Of course we do!" She replies, noticing a little too late that her voice is a notch higher than usual. "It's just that we don't— uh, have it now! Out of stock, haha, y'know how restaurants go… well, maybe you don't, but there's this thing called supply and demand, and… I mean, I don't want to assume you're dumb or anything— in fact, you're probably a lot smarter than me I went to a fashion university, can you believe that? Like, I went abroad and everything. I learned a lot then, but—"

Horrified that she was tripping over her words, Marinette inhales deeply, then wills herself to stop talking. "— so, anyway! We'll probably have it in stock some time soon, so come back then, okay? I'll have a piping hot coffee ready for you to drink with those pretty lips of y— I mean! Maybe I could call you when you can stop by?"

Marinette only has a moment to reflect on how suggestive that may sound before the customer laughs, effectively breaking her thoughts from spiralling any deeper than they already were.

"Sure," he says, and Marinette briefly wonders if love at first sight has more truth to it than others may believe. "Can I have your phone? I'll put in my number."

His voice is smooth and confident, and Marinette feels the burning need to disappear into a puddle. She hands over her phone gingerly, and takes a moment to appreciate his arms as they type away at the screen.

He returns her phone and smiles. "I'm really lucky I stopped by your cafe. I didn't think there was any place in Paris that had it available," the stranger explains. "Even when I was in America, it was already hard to get a hold of. So thank you…"

The stranger pauses, then looks down at her nametag. "Marinette." He nods his head toward her as a gesture of appreciation, then disappears out the door.

The moment he steps out of her cafe, Marinette feels her knees give out and falls to the floor.

And as she always does when she makes a mess of things, she calls her business partner.

"Alya, I may have messed up… again."

ii.

"What the hell is Kopi Luwak coffee?"

It's a valid question, and Marinette has no idea how to answer. After all, she doesn't actually know what it is either. "His order?" She answers back (completely unhelpfully).

Alya sighs, then pinches her forehead. She's the more level-headed one from the two of them, and therefore the one who always has to fix whatever mess Marinette had gotten into at the time. They're at her office— Alya usually handles the more managerial parts of running the business, whereas Marinette is more on the production of food and drinks side — as she inputs the term into the search bar.

The results are quick to show up:

KOPI LUWAK: THE MOST EXPENSIVE COFFEE IN THE WORLD!

Their faces consequently morph into ones of expectant horror. Alya clicks on the link, and has to visibly stop the sudden gasp that escapes her throat. The cost of one cup of coffee ranges from $35 to $100, with a single kilogram of beans worth almost $700.

Marinette almost snatches the mouse from her hand as she quickly scrolls through the article, clinging onto the (very likely futile) hope that it's probably someone's terrible idea for a joke.

Unfortunately, it isn't.

Alya's the first to speak up, and it's a simple question. "Was our customer a millionaire or something?!"

"I don't know!" Marinette responds, panicked. "I mean, if he were it'd make sense why he's so attractive but he never said anything!"

"Why did you say we provided this?! We can't serve hundred-dollar coffee, we're barely paying rent as it is!"

"I know, I know!" Marinette repeats, pulling at her hairs in stress. "I just thought it was some other kind of regular coffee! How was I supposed to know he wanted that?!" She extends both her arms to point at the computer screen, then shakes her head. "Only an insane person would pay that much for a drink!"

Then, a pause. And in a quieter tone: "Why can't I meet normal guys? Is a cute boy too much to ask for?"

Alya rolls her eyes, then suddenly puts her hands on the table. One returns to massaging her forehead. "Okay, Marinette. We can't serve this to him. You'll just have to tell him the truth."

"But I can't do that!" Marinette frowns, as if the very notion of telling the truth is impossible. "He'll find out that I lied to him and he'll hate me and start going to another cafe instead!"

"— then you shouldn't have lied in the first place!" Alya points out, wagging her finger. "It's better to tell him now before he comes here again and finds out for himself!"

Marinette shifts in place, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "Maybe we can find cheaper alternatives somewhere else?" She asks. "I bet if we ask our suppliers, someone's bound to grow those beans—"

"Afraid not, girl," Alya says, turning to look at the computer. "These aren't regular beans. Apparently they're made by—," she suddenly pauses, as her face contorts into one of pure disgust. "Ew!"

"What?" Marinette walks toward the computer and leans over, only to feel the need to gag upon reading what came next: Coffee beans are digested by a civet cat. Their excretions are sold as the rare Kopi Luwak.

"So you mean…" Marinette begins, shivering. "That this coffee is basically… cat poop?"

Alya looks at her solemnly, then nods. "Yup."

At that, they finally burst into laughter— though whether it's from entertainment, the absurdity of the situation, or the realization that she's helpless in securing a date with the stranger, or all of the above, Marinette can't tell at all.

iii.

They agree that Marinette tell the truth to the Cute (And Apparently Rich) Coffee Stranger even though it'll very likely ruin all her chances with him. Nothing is, as Alya says, worth spending hundreds of dollars on cat poop for.

Except that Marinette Dupain-Cheng cannot follow directions.

Instead, she contacts a special supplier internationally and pays almost a thousand dollars total to have a kilogram of the beans at her doorstep not more than a week later. (Marinette finds comfort in knowing that the coffee doesn't smell like actual feces.)

She messages the stranger, who left his contact name as a single coffee emoji:

hey we restocked and are ready to serve tomorrow! can you drop by? :)

The reply is almost instantaneous:

That's great! I'll stop by in the morning. Thank you so much!

Marinette reads and rereads that message until she finally falls asleep.

iv.

For the first time since the history of her business, Marinette doesn't arrive to work late.

She doesn't know exactly what time the Coffee Stranger will arrive, but she knows that she doesn't want to miss when he does. Marinette takes the morning shift (something that all her co-workers were understandably surprised by), and she waits.

Coffee Stranger arrives an hour later.

He greets her good morning, and Marinette short-circuits. She reaches out her hand. “Hi! I'm Marinette!"

He laughs. "I know," he says. "Maybe you don't remember me? I gave you my number. I'm the one who asked for the Kopi Luwak?"

"Sorry. Of course I remember! I could never forget you," she replies— blurting it out, to her complete horror.

Coffee Stranger, thankfully, doesn't look all that bothered. In fact, he looks entertained, more so than anything else. "Great," he responds, the smile still on his face. "Then I'll have that."

Marinette nods, and she gets to work on his coffee. She gets it done quickly (Marinette had practiced making it at home; pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted wonderful), and hands him a perfectly hot cup of coffee. "That'll be… eighty dollars."

She cringes at the cost, but the Coffee Stranger pulls out a hundred dollar bill without hesitance. "Keep the change," he tells her, as he takes a sip. "This is even better than what I've had before! Definitely worth more."

The barista blinks in disbelief. "You really think so?" She asks, to which the stranger enthusiastically nods. Marinette feels her body buzz with joy from the sudden compliment, then she points at the macarons on the counter. "Here," she begins. "It's on the house."

The stranger looks up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

Marinette smiles. "It goes great with the coffee," she explains. "I think you'll like the passionfruit flavor. It mixes well with the cat po— the Kopi Luwak."

"Perfect," the stranger responds. "Passionfruit's my favourite flavor!" He grins, then pauses. "And… it's Adrien."

"What?"

Coffee Stranger's eyes go up to meet hers. Green. A forest of green she wouldn't mind getting lost in forever. "My name's Adrien," he says, reaching out his hand to hers. "Nice to meet you.."

Marinette suddenly feels her throat dry. She suddenly forgets that she spent a thousand dollars just to make him happy. It feels worth it.

"Nice to meet you too."

v.

Adrien quickly becomes a regular.

He makes it a point to stop by whenever she's working, sometimes having his coffee to go, and other times staying in to do his work at the cafe. Marinette likes those times the most— and she almost always sneaks in a little macaron or some other snack to help him get through the day. It's small and short exchanges, but they learn more about each other and that's more than enough to make her happy.

She finds out a lot about him. He's kind. He has a sweet tooth. He lives with his best friend, a DJ. He owns a cat. (He clarified, however, that all he does with Plagg's feces is throw it away.) He's rich, but it mostly came as savings from his younger years. He was a teenage model, but nowadays he prefers being the one behind it. (A waste, Marinette thinks, but she respects his decision.) His mom's gone, and he doesn't speak much with his dad. He treasures his friendships more than anything.

Adrien tells her that he treasures their friendship. Marinette's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes when she thinks about how that's all they'll probably be.

She willfully ignores Alya's unimpressed looks and how her bank funds steadily drain into the danger zone.

vi.

At some point, Marinette can't ignore it.

The bank tells her that she can't withdraw anymore, because her funds are almost completely depleted. She paces back and forth her room, visibly stressed. Her current bag of coffee beans would likely last her a few more days— but afterwards, it'll no longer be an option.

Alya says that it's easier to tell the truth.

As per usual, she's right. Marinette promises to herself to talk to Adrien when the coffee's gone completely.

vii.

"I was lying to you."

Marinette decides to be upfront, delivering the statement along with his final cup of coffee.

"What do you mean?" His look is serious, and it's a complete change of pace from how he usually is. It makes her stomach so uncomfortable turns and her knees buckle together in fear.

She sighs. "I was… lying about the coffee." She says it quickly and in one breath, and Adrien's eyebrows knitting together makes it clear that he understood none of it.

"About what?"

"The coffee!" Marinette basically shouts, then pulls him aside as they notice the customers pile in line. Another co-worker takes over, and throws them a concerned glance before focusing on their task completely.

Marinette brings Adrien to one of the empty storerooms, and when they settle, he speaks up. "What do you mean you lied about the coffee?"

"We never sold Kopi Luwak," she explains.

"No," Adrien argues. "That's definitely what I've been drinking, though?"

"Yeah," she replies, shaking her head. "But the cafe doesn't officially sell it. I was taking from my savings to buy the coffee abroad and make it for you." As Marinette says the words aloud, she begins to realise how outlandish the very idea was.

"What did you do that for?"

Marinette frowns to herself. "I guess I just didn't want to disappoint you… or something." Her cheeks redden, and she looks down. "I wanted to see you again too… I didn't want our only meeting to be that one time."

Marinette thinks she hears a hint of laughter, but it disappears so quickly she may have imagined it. "You know," Adrien begins. "If you wanted to see me again, you could've just asked." He smiles at her, but it looks almost sheepish. Adrien scratches his head. "I mean, I was really only ordering coffee so I could keep meeting up with you."

What?

Marinette fumbles over her words. "You… me… meet up?"

Adrien laughs, full-blown now. "Yeah. I thought you were cute. And when I got to know you better, it was just… I couldn't stop myself. I might have caffeine overdose, but I think it's worth it." He turns toward her and wraps his arms around her waist, and Marinette finds a laugh escaping her throat.

"Been having trouble sleeping, then?”

"Haven't slept since the day I met you," he replies. "But I don't mind, because you're a dream come true."

Marinette rolls her eyes at how silly it all is. "That's corny."

"I like to think of myself as a corny jokes and puns connoisseur," he explains teasingly. "Maybe you'll let me tell you more over dinner?"

"How forward of you," Marinette laughs, but nods all the same. "I just have to warn you, I'm broke from all the coffee beans you made me buy."

He smiles. "Then I guess I'll have to pay for all our dates from now on?"

Marinette hums, then grins lightly. "I wouldn't be against that."

"Then it's a deal." He replies, suddenly looking at her directly. "Want to seal it?"

She has a vague idea of where he's going with this, and the smile practically blooms on her face. "Yes."

It doesn't take anymore waiting until he kisses her.

(And she's glad to say that he tastes like roasted coffee beans and a warm fire; not at all like cats or feces or anything of that sort.)

[liquor-and-intellect]

PREHISTORIC PART 3

Summary: Talia is a singer inspired by the man who broke her heart. The man who left her to pursue his career in the music industry without a second thought. The man who happens to be Harry Styles and is paying her show a visit.

part one   part two

“I’m really glad you came…” Harry started, holding the door open for me to enter. “I-uh… I didn’t think you were going to come.”

I walked into the small hotel room. It wasn’t as lavish as I expected someone of his esteem to have—and maybe that was the bitter part of me that was speaking.

He stood there nervously as I surveyed the room. The bed with one side messed up, the open laptop laying on top of the sheets and a small suitcase open with a few folded clothes inside. It all was extremely modest and not how I had let my mind run rampant for the last few years about how he traveled.

I let my eyes leave the open laptop to land on him. “I honestly didn’t think I was going to either… but I…” I looked down sheepishly.

He nodded, understanding. “You couldn’t sleep, could you?” There was a small smile playing on his lips, as if reminiscing the times I sat up pacing because of a song on my mind, or turning in bed because of a fight we had. Rest didn’t exist in my vocabulary.

Shaking my head, I let myself give a tentative smile back. “No, I couldn’t.”

He stared at me for a beat longer, before catching himself. Harry cleared his throat and motioned to the bed for me to sit. “Sit, please,” he suggested. “do you want water… or coffee?” He shifted his weight nervously to his other foot.

I folded a leg underneath myself as I sat. “This isn’t an interview, Harry,” I reminded him, trying to ease the tension but coming off a bit critical.

He sat himself in a chair across from me at the small dinner table, placing his hands in his lap. He said, “I’m nervous like it is though.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “nothing could ever make up for how I treated you. I should never have left you like that. I should have fought harder for us… Fuck, I should have done so much more because you fucking deserved better.”

I froze in my spot. Tears were brimming in my irises, blurring the image of the nervous man in front of me. His words pulled a weight off my chest that had been resting there every time the memory of him came to the front of my mind. For so long, I assumed he didn’t care. It was the only logical explanation to how someone could leave me without a thought.

“Did you really love me?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His brow furrowed in such a quizzical way, as if the question was so absurd. “Of course,” he murmured. “how could I not have? I think after we dated for so long, I just assumed you would always be there. No matter how shitty I treated you.” He looked down and pursed his lips at the memory of it. “It wasn’t fair of me to do that. I was just so young and immature.”

I sniffled, leaning my hands behind me to rest my weight on them. As I did, my arm hit the open laptop, causing the screen to light up and a song to pick up in the middle of pop chorus.

“Shit-“ Harry began, standing up as a female voice began playing through the speaker.

“I swear, I will wake up next to you,” it sang and I froze. The melody was beautiful and her voice was… haunting.

Harry fumbled, trying to reach over me to turn off the laptop but he couldn’t get to it before the song continued in its hypnotic way.

Right when he was about to press pause, I heard the cracked pleading of the singer say my name.

“Talia, I hope you’re happy any way

But four drinks I’m wasted.”

I sat up straight, my head snapping to where Harry was frozen leaning over the bed, hand hovering mid-air about to pause the song. “No one will know I wrote it, I swear,” he whispered.

I put my hand on top of his, lowering it away from the computer. The contact seemed to startle him a bit as both of our skins lit on fire. “Please let me hear it,” I said lowly. “start it over.”

And he did.

I don’t know if it was because it said all the things he didn’t know how to voice or because he knew arguing with me over this wouldn’t be worth it, but he started the song over. Leaving me to sit completely still except for the tears that ran their course down my face.

I knew these lyrics were his. I was up too many nights with him writing to not recognize it by now. His narrative had always and will always be recognizable to me.

Listening to the song, I felt the air shift around us. It answered all the questions I had been wondering for two years. Did he care? Was he effected? Was it easy for him to walk away?

I could hear the desperation in the singer’s voice as she sang, but I knew the soul was resonating from the lyrics. The words that Harry wrote, the words that were too damn personal for him to publish as his own.

As the song came to an end, I covered my mouth with my hand, attempting to stifle the sob that wanted to escape and never stop. The grief for what we had had been shoved down so far, only released in the angsty ballads I would write.

I nodded to the questions I could feel hovering between us. “I believe you,” I cried.

It was those words that caused his shoulders to drop, as if this whole time he had been acting a part of having it semi-together. Tears escaped from his closed eyelids, making their way down his cheeks to sheets below us.

I couldn’t help it anymore. I closed the distance and gathered him up in my embrace, letting his head rest against my shoulder. His arms closed around my middle so tightly I swore there would never be a way to separate us ever again.

We cried together. Mourning the loss of our relationship, the loss of a beautiful friendship—but also the sweet relief of closure, of confirmation, of anger being lifted from between us. I had been so angry when I saw him tonight, because he had left so many questions unanswered. Yet here we were.

I spoke too soon, but it was the last question I needed answered. “What now?” I whispered against his hair. “What do you want from this?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.” His voice was muffled, lips against my neck. “I just know I can’t live without you in my life anymore.”

That was all I needed to remove the space of air separating us. I grabbed his face in my hands and pulled his mouth to my own, relishing in the feeling of his such familiar lips. It had literally been fucking years, but I knew the most comfortable way to kiss him was by letting my top lip rest near his cupid bow’s as his pressed into my lower one.

I tugged it between my teeth, my body completely melting as he let out a groan that sounded as if it took two years of anticipation to create. I pressed as close as I could to him, cursing fucking physics because I wanted to destroy every atom that separated us for the last two years until now.

Harry pushed me back until my back hit the mattress, a breath escaping my mouth as his lips traveled to my neck, peppering soft kisses there, sucking and pulling at my jawline.

He murmured into my ear, “How far do you want to go?”

It wasn’t his lips pressed against the shell of my ear that gave me chills, but the fucking consent.

“Take me.”

And that’s all I had to tell him.

There was no teasing, no foreplay. Harry gently lifted my shirt over my head before working on my pants, taking his time as his eyes examined every inch of my skin. He peppered kisses against my wrists as I reached for his shorts, letting me ease them across his long legs.

He stared down at me. “You look so different but-“

“- exactly the same?” I finished, smirking up at him as he nodded, blushing a bit.

He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he continued, running his hands down my bare chest and torso. “you’re so different from the Talia I once knew. More resilient…refined… I love it.” He took a breath. “I love you.”

A sob racked my chest as I forced his lips back down to my own.

“I never thought I’d hear that again,” I murmured into the space our lips created when we pulled back to catch a breath. “But I love you too.”

There wasn’t this awkward moment where we had to relearn each other’s bodies. I think the most magical thing about it was the simple fact that the chemistry had been there—despite the years that separated out last encounter.

When Harry entered me, a gasp escaped my lips. Not of surprise, but in the way of satisfaction because no other man had filled me up like he did. No one could compare to the way his body rolled into mine. The mesmerizing way his shoulder blades moved beneath the skin under my fingertips. The way that I felt breathless because of the fan of kisses he planted across my face before placing lips back to my own.

Harry’s hips continued to knock against my own, the rhythm slower than the quickies I was used to. It was more meaningful, as if each stroke into me was saying something that his tongue couldn’t make sense of—and it all added up to the final conclusion: I love you, I love you, I love you.

His grunts became quicker as his stomach tensed above mine. “Are you close?” he said breathlessly, as if any sudden movement would bring about his undoing.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me to hit the spot where I knew only he could touch. Nodding, I bit the skin underneath his earlobe, wanting my love bite to be present for the world to see tomorrow.

There was a familiar bubble building in my stomach and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I climaxed. The way his sweaty body was hitting my own would be enough to set me off right there, but I held on as long as I could to enjoy the sweetness of this moment in all its complexity.

Harry’s breath hitched. “Shit- Tal…” Sloppy hip thrusts. “I’m about to- “

That was all it took for me. Seeing the man above me come completely undone unraveled the array of butterflies in my stomach as pleasure eased its way into my bloodstream like an IV. My whole body lit on fire as I sank into the mattress, feeling the slight pulsating of his member inside of me.

Harry collapsed on top of me, chest pressed against my own, breathing in tune with my lungs.

I let my hands run down his back, stroking the warm skin slightly as he clutched my torso. “I don’t know where I expected tonight to go,” he began. “but being inside of you at 5 a.m. was not it.”

I chuckled, my breath blowing the hair off of his forehead.

He stilled. “I missed the sound of your laugh. Almost as much as I missed seeing you leaned over a guitar singing random words to make sense of your emotions.”

I smiled at that memory. “I’ve found a much better way to songs write these days.” I said.

His head tilted up to look at me. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” I grinned. “it���s called unhealthily bottle up your emotions until they just kind of overflow.”

His lips pulled up at the corners as he closed his eyes. “Oh, love… you haven’t changed, have you?”

I let the silence pass for a minute, enjoying his body tangled up with my own. “Did you ever write any songs about me?” I finally asked.

Harry sat up, hovering over me to make sure he could meet my gaze. “Have you not listened to any of my music?”

“No.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Two Ghosts, Ever Since New York, From the Dining Table… I could go on, love but you’ll have to buy an album.”

I swatted him playfully. I had avoided the album when it was released—except for the few tracks I heard hit the radio. It had been too hard to hear his voice.

He laid his head back down on my chest. Intertwining our fingers together, he hummed to himself. A distant melody that I didn’t recognize but fell in love with all the same.

We fell asleep like that.

…

I was welcomed with a nice surprise when I opened my eyes to an empty bed in a hotel room. I could hear a distant muffle of Harry’s voice—possibly in the bathroom—talking quietly on the phone. There was a small stream of light from underneath the curtain. My heart warmed when I noticed the clips from the closet’s clothes hangers tightly grasping on the curtains as to not let light shine through.

I stretched my arms above my head, taking a glance at the alarm clock to see it was well within the afternoon.

A door shut.

“Good morning, love.” A sleepy Harry rounded the corner, still shirtless but this time adorning boxers on his lower half. His hair was mussed as he ran his hand through it, leaning against the wall. “I was just changing my flight plans.”

I frowned. “When do you leave?”

“Tonight.”

It wasn’t that I thought he would stay in this hotel room with me forever, but I hadn’t considered the thought that he would be leaving so soon. We really hadn’t thought past getting through last night.

“You can come with me, you know?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean? I can’t just leave.”

Harry leaned onto the bed, crawling his way to me until he hovered above me, eyes shining with mischief. He spoke as if it was the biggest secret to the universe, his voice low, he said, “Open for me. On tour. Never leave my side.”

I didn’t expect my own reaction, but I let an infectious smile creep onto my face, brightening up my cheeks and leaving a sparkle in my eyes. I knew I still had to talk to the boys, but for now, my answer was:

“Okay.”

A few people said they wanted a tag list for this story. There will be only one more part, but if you want to be tagged, feel free to message me (after you reblog of course ;))

[four-loose-screws]

Fire Emblem 10 Drama CD Translation - Complete and Edited!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations - Ko-fi

Hey everyone, I was lucky enough to be given a written script for this entire CD and some advice on mistranslations, so be sure to check this post out, even if you read my original posts for this CD!

———————————

Introduction

*Opens with sounds of combat: grunts, yells, weapons clashing, etc., w/ focus on Ike’s voice.*

Daein Soldier: Gaaaah!

Ike: Haaaa!

Soren: Haaa!

Ike: Hi-yaaaah!

Daein Soldier: Retreat!

Soren: After them!

*sounds of retreating Daein soldiers’ footsteps*

Ike: *walks towards Micaiah* You are... the Priestess of Dawn.

Micaiah: And you are General Ike, yes? Sothe told me about you.

Ike: You are important to him, so I do not want to fight.

Micaiah: And you took care of him, so I feel the same way. However…

Ike: Daein has no intention of withdrawing.

Micaiah: No.

Ike: Then… *unsheathes sword* We have no choice but to fight.

*sounds of combat gradually become louder once more, then fade into music*

Ike’s voice: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn Drama CD: 

Ike & Micaiah’s voices: Clash of Heroic Ideals! 

(T/N: a more literal translation of the title: “The Unshakeable Ideals of the Rival Leaders")

Scene I

*sounds of general army camp activity: people talking, weapons clashing in sparring matches, etc.*

Soren: The Laguz troops had very high morale.

Ike: Yeah. They believe in Ranulf’s words.

Soren: I think he’s changed a bit from before, too.

Ike: *laughs* Oh, Skrimir? Do you still hate him?

Soren: Of course I do. He’s the type that I’m worst with. He thinks that battle is won by strength alone.

Ike: Don’t say that! He’s a candidate for the next king of Gallia. And King Caineghis decided to make him the general of their army, right?

Soren: *chuckles* You talk as if you’ve become his father.

Ike: Ah…? Hey, of course I haven’t! But you are one to laugh at something like that.

Soren: Ike, you’re becoming more and more like Commander Greil.

Ike: So even you’ve said that now. The people we’ve reunited with from three years ago have been telling me the same thing. Jeez… Every last one of them...

Soren: I’m just fondly watching over you as you grow.

Ike: Hey! Now you’re the one acting like you’ve become a father!

Soren: Someday… you might understand what that means.

Ike: Hm? *turns closer towards Soren* What did you just say?

Soren: Nothing. But there’s one more reason why a frontal attack is dangerous. As I mentioned earlier, I’m concerned about Daein’s movements.

Ike: Of course... However you look at it, our army is more powerful. Is the empire forcing them to fight, like you said?

Titania: *walks up* Hey you two, we’re going to get ready to deploy now.

Ike: Titania! Okay, got it.

Soren: About that, I have a suggestion based on our current situation. Ike, please tell me your thoughts about it.

Ike: Hm?

Scene II

*sounds of general army camp activity: people talking, weapons clashing in sparring matches, etc.*

Micaiah: *sigh*

Sothe: Can I say what you’re thinking, Micaiah?

Micaiah: Sothe?

Sothe: You’re wondering why Prince Pelleas is doing something like this... Or maybe about why he’s cooperating with the empire… Right?

Micaiah: *giggles* Shall I try to guess what you’re thinking about?

Sothe: W-What?

Micaiah: You respect Ike, commander of the Greil Mercenaries, so you don’t really want to fight him… Am I right?

Sothe: *gasps*

Micaiah: Well?

Sothe: You’re half right, half wrong. I don’t want to fight him, but if you’ve decided to, then it’s another story. I won’t waver. I’d make anyone my enemy.

Micaiah: You’re pushing yourself, aren’t you?

Sothe: I’m not! *sits down* Surely Commander Ike should understand, too. Like I said, he’s a hero who can face any enemy and fight them at full strength. So if I must risk my life and fight for you, then he wouldn’t be against that.

Micaiah: *giggles* Even in those words… I can hear your respect and affection for him.

Sothe: ...Ah!

Micaiah: *giggles* Sorry. I’m joking around. *draws closer to Sothe* Sothe… you’ve gotten much stronger.

Sothe: Of course! Even if you leave out the fact that I fought in the previous war, three years have passed. I’m not a child.

Micaiah: Mmm.... I’m really happy. With how you’ve grown...

Sothe: Micaiah…

*running footsteps start quiet, then get louder*

Daein Soldier #1: *panting* The enemy front line! They're here!

Sothe: *gasps*

Micaiah: Understood. Shall we go, too?

Sothe: Yes.

*army cheers for Micaiah*

Daein Soldier #2: The Priestess of Dawn has returned!

Daein Soldier #3: Victory will be ours!

Daein Soldier #4: Glory be to Daein!

Daein Soldier #5: The Priestess of Dawn!

Scene III

*sounds of combat can be faintly heard in the background throughout this scene* Ike: Teeeeh-reyah! *swings sword*

Daein Soldier: Gaaaaaahhhh! *collapses*

Ike: *takes a deep breath and sheaths his sword* They’re no doubt a small army… yet expertly commanded.

Sothe: *approaches Ike* Commander Ike…

Ike: Sothe… You’ve gotten taller. ...That’s right, you’re from Daein, aren’t you?

Sothe: You remembered!

Ike: Did you find who you were looking for?

Sothe: Yeah. She’s this army’s current general.

Ike: ...The Priestess of Dawn, huh?

Sothe: Her name is Micaiah. Stop calling her by that absurd alias. Commander… I… *turns around* didn’t want to reunite with you like this!

Ike: Yet… you have no intention of withdrawing, do you?

Sothe: No.

Ike: If you’re prepared to make her to continue on alone… then come at me! If you’re not ready yet, then don’t come near me. I’m not so soft that I’ll hold back on the battlefield! 

Sothe: Ah… Still, Commander… I have no choice but to fight you! Ahhhhhhhhhh! *runs forward*

*weapons clash*

Ike: You’ve gotten a little stronger! But… *weapons clash* do you really think such a light blow will hurt me!?

Sothe: Ah!

Ike: Hoooooooo!

Micaiah: *runs in* Oh guiding light… lead us forward, and destroy the obstacles standing in our way!

*light magic spell sounds*

Ike: Gah!

Sothe: Micaiah!

Micaiah: You attacked Ike… Perhaps it’s because I’ve heard so much about you from Sothe… but it doesn’t feel like we’re meeting for the first time.

Ike: I have nothing against either of you personally… You came before me as enemies. I won’t go easy on you!

Micaiah: Thank you… If you’ll do that for us, then we’ll fight our full strength as well!

Sothe: Let’s go, Micaiah! We’ll take him down together!

*wind blows*

Soren: I will be your opponent! Elwind!

*strong wind slices through the air*

Sothe: You! So you’re still by the commander’s side, like always!?

Soren: Of course. I will always be near him.

*Ike unsheathes sword*

*weapons clash, magic spells fly through the air*

Micaiah: Shine!

*Shine spell sounds*

Ike: Hiiiii-rrryaaaaah!

Micaiah: *gasps* But I hit him…

Ike: Sorry, but I don’t train like other people do. There’s no one to protect you here! This is your final chance! Retreat!

Micaiah: I… *pants, then collapses* can’t!

Sothe: *gasps* Micaiah! *runs towards her*

*teleporting woosh noises*

Black Knight: Ha! *swings weapon, then starts walking forwards*

Sothe: The Black Knight...!

Black Knight: Maiden, are you alright?

Micaiah: S-Sir Knight...

Sothe: Gah... Now! *runs*

Soren: Tch… Wait!

Sothe: *sits down* Micaiah!

Micaiah: Sothe… I-I’m sorry… I did it again...

Black Knight: It seems that she’s used too much of her power. Get her away from here.

Sothe: O-Okay. *picks up Micaiah and runs off*

Ike: Even if I try to run after them, you’ll get in my way, won’t you?

Black Knight: Of course. I was once one of Daein’s Four Riders.

Ike: So you did survive.

Black Knight: Did you really think you could kill me with the strength you had then?

Ike: Hm, did I? But I never thought that one victory could free my heart of need for vengeance that haunts it!

Black Knight: That’s good news. My armor lost it’s blessing after that fight.

Ike: Then I will defeat you again this time! *unsheathes sword*

Black Knight: Alright then… *readies sword* You may come at me!

Ike: Grrrrraaaaaaahhhhh!! *swings sword*

Scene IV

Sothe: *panting and running*

Micaiah: *gasps for air*

Sothe: We should be safe here for a moment… Micaiah… Hang in there!

Micaiah: Gah… *pants* Sothe… I… lost consciousness again?

Sothe: Yeah, you did... but there’s no enemies around here. You can rest easy.

Micaiah: No… I am a general of Daein… I can’t leave the front line...

Sothe: But because you’re a general, it’ll mean the end if you die first!

Micaiah: ...Sothe… I must… protect everyone…

Sothe: Daein is certainly my precious homeland. But it’s nothing to me compared to you! I will protect you! Even if it means I make an enemy of my country… or the world!

Micaiah: ...Sothe… Ah…

Sothe: Micaiah!! ...Have you fainted again…? Alright then, I’ll use this chance to get us away from the battlefield! *runs off*

Scene V

*sounds of combat between Ike and the Black Knight*

Black Knight: You’ve gotten stronger.

Ike: So have you. You’re even stronger than you were three years ago.

Black Knight: At that time, only my spirit and armor warped. Now, I am in my own body. Of course there would be a gap in my power.

Ike: I see… so that’s how you survived…

Daein Soldier #1: The Black Knight has appeared!

Daein Soldier #2: This is our only chance to attack the enemy general!

Soren: Ike, the enemy soldiers are gathering here!

Ike: Are you telling me to retreat!? It’s no use trying to talk me out of this! Tee-ryaaaaah! *swings weapon*

Black Knight: Haa-yaaaaaah!

*weapons clash*

Daein Soldier: Ready your bows! Shoot the enemy general!

*soldiers draw and fire arrows*

Ike: What!?

*arrows fall*

Black Knight: *raises weapon* This is the end for you...

Ike: Haaah!

*weapons clash*

Ike: *falls*

Black Knight: Prepare yourself! *raises weapon*

Soren: Ike! *runs* You’re the only person I won’t let be killed! *throws himself in front of Ike*

Black Knight: Are you trying to get yourself killed? Even if you try to risk your own life for him, you cannot change his death.

Soren: No matter what… I will protect Ike! Ike… I don’t think you remember… that we met once when we were young, but... At that time, I thought my life to be short… and that I couldn’t be saved, so I was only awaiting my death. But you saved me… one of the Branded, discriminated against by both Beorc and Laguz. That is why I will always be by your side and protect you… no matter what!

Black Knight: So you will go together with him...? That’s fine. Hmmmm! *swings sword*

Titania: *horse gallops into the scene* Haaaaaah! *swings weapon, horse stops and neighs* I won’t let you kill any more of the people precious to me!

Soren: Titania! You made it!?

Titania: Yes! We successfully hit the enemy from their weak spot! We overwhelmed them from behind, and I was able to bring reinforcements, too!

*reinforcements yell out battle cries in the distance*

Ike: Guh… Ah… *sits up* 

*sounds of combat begin in the distance* 

Ike: Did I… Ah... lose consciousness?

Soren: Ike! *kneels down* Are you okay!?

Ike: Yeah. *stands* Sorry for troubling you.

Soren: No… you could never… I...

Ike: ...Are you… crying?

Soren: Ah… no… I wouldn’t… It’s okay. I’m fine.

Ike: Alright then, let’s do this! *lifts sword* Fight with us, Titania!

Titania: Yes! This is an opportunity to show off the power of the Greil Mercenaries! *horse neighs and begins to gallop*

Black Knight: What are you planning…?

Titania: Heee-yah! *horse gallops up to Black Knight, Titania swings her weapon*

*weapons clash*

Black Knight: Gah! Female knight… Are you providing a distraction for them?!

Titania: Well, can you afford to get distracted!?

Black Knight: That is a foolish hope!

*weapons clash*

Soren: By the power of my wind magic… this brave soldier will be sent flying towards the heavens! *casts wind spell that propels Ike into the air*

Ike: Hoooooo-aaaaaaah!

Black Knight: Hm!?

Ike: This is… the end! *swings weapon*

Black Knight: Gah!? *falls over*

Soren: Yes! We did it, Ike!

Ike: *gasps for air* Yeah!

Black Knight: *rises* Tch... I see… You've gotten stronger. But I didn’t think you could have gotten this much stronger… Let’s stop here for now. I would hate to end our fight in one go.

Ike: I feel the same. You can challenge me any time. Whatever the circumstances, I’d accept a fight against you!

Black Knight: *steps towards Soren*

Soren: ...Um… What do you want with me…?

Black Knight: You are the same as I… You’ve found someone to live with. Though it will one day end in tragedy.

Soren: Ah!

Black Knight: And Micaiah… she, too, is on the same path.

Ike: I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but the Priestess of Dawn, Sothe, you, us… we are all simply living our lives to the fullest for what we believe in.

Titania: That’s right! Though we struggle with difficult trials and tragic fates, we have no choice but to continue on through our fears.

Ike: Yeah. All we can do... is continue on as we always have!

Black Knight: Is that so? Then let us meet again, *steps away* son of Gawain. *teleports away*

Scene VI

*cheering, sounds of combat*

Ike’s Army Soldier #1: We did it!

Ike’s Army Soldier #2: Victory is ours!

Ike’s Army Soldier #3: Long live General Ike!!

*hawk Laguz screeches*

Sothe: They have beasts and hawks among their reinforcements...!

Micaiah: Even the Bird Tribe of Phoenicis is here? Begnion didn’t tell us anything about that...

Sothe: We’ve been had…. Commander Ike’s army was a diversion.

Micaiah: At this rate, the number of sacrifices will only increase… Let’s retreat for now.

Sothe: The Daein soldiers will probably say that they still want to fight.

Micaiah: I can’t afford to let them die for no reason. At this time, we have no choice but to retreat.

Sothe: ...I understand. Let’s go relay the message to the entire army.

Micaiah: Hey, Sothe… That man… General Ike… He was just like you told me. Strong… noble… considerate of those around him… but also always able to calmly understand the state of the current battle. He’s everything a general should be...

Sothe: Micaiah…

Micaiah: I don’t have the strength, nor the virtues that he has… But I will protect Daein!

Sothe: Mm…

Micaiah: Sothe? Shall I try to guess what you are thinking right now?

Sothe: Oh…?

Micaiah: “I want there to come a day when Commander Ike and I can understand each other.” ...Right?

Sothe: *gasps* Th-That’s…

Micaiah: *giggles* I’m joking. But… thank you. It would be a good thing, if that day were to come…

*Music gradually gets louder and plays for about ~20 secs longer to conclude the CD. Bird chirping can be heard throughout the song.*

[ldelreyna]

CHAPTER IV

.

.

“And it's peaceful in the deep 'Cause either way you cannot breathe No need to pray, no need to speak Now I am under all And it's breaking over me A thousand miles onto the sea bed I found the place to rest my head Never let me go, never let me go.”

-  Never Let Me Go, Florence and the Machine

.

.

.

When Jon walked back home, he immediately remembered about the meeting Sansa told him about and that the Lords wanting him there. She was impatiently waiting for him at the doors of the Great Hall. 

"What took you so long?" She asked when she saw him walking slowly to him.

Something was at his hands, she tried to see what it was but the sound of his voice distracted her. 

"I went to see the farmers." He answered.

She was so beautiful.

"What farmers?"

"You told me a great amount of lands was in need of a master. I was trying to fix this problem." Jon smiled when she blinked in silence, glad he was helping her, and he took her hands with his and left a long kiss at Sansa's forehead.

"Thank you." She said when his lips were at her skin, warming that part of her face.

"You look really good today. Did you cut your hair?"

Jon didn't know from where this was coming from, he just had to say it to her.

"Yeah... but not so much."

"I see."

Sansa was overwhelmed by the feeling that that small conversation was making with her… Jon touching her hands and kissing her forehead... She knew it was innocent from him, but the shivers it cause her body was far from innocent.

She wanted to get closer to him. Closer and closer.

"Shall we go?"

Jon nodded and followed her through the doors. The Lords greeted both of them as they stood up, in respect.

"It's really good to have you with us, Your Grace." Lord Cerwyn said to Jon with a warm smile. 

"I am not Your King anymore, my Lord."

Sansa put her hand at Jon's and responded in high tone:

"You'll always be our King.” She paused and then continued. “Can we start?"

Tons of problems were discussed there, Jon shared that the issue with the farmers was fixed for now and he was going to give personal help for them all. The gold was in a great amount and they agreed that a place to give medical support for the Northerners was in need and money should be invested in it. And after all of that, the real reason why Jon was there came from the mouth of Lord Manderley:

"Your Grace, The North is concerned about the future of our lands. We are more than happy and satisfied with the reign of Queen Sansa, but we are not so sure about the future."

"Say your point for once, Lord Manderly." Bran said it. Sansa insisted that he should be there, and nobody was seeing this as a problem, he was a Stark after all.

“We believe your sister should marry and produce heirs. Women or men, we don’t mind, as long as the North remains with the Starks. And independent.” Lord Tallhart words were more honest and direct. 

“And your suggestions are?”

"We have great bachelors, Your Grace. But we do not want someone from south." Lord Reed answered Jon. 

"My sister is the one who is going to share a life with this man, if she chooses to marry. She will have a say as to who she wants or not." Jon was harsh on his words because everything was really pissing him off.

"I will marry and I will produce heirs." Sansa clarifies after a long silence. 

"I know your sister…" Lord Cerwyn said to Jon and Bran "…is the one who should choose but your name was the one we were most comfortable with. Since she's not your sister but your cousin."

"I beg your pardon?!" Jon couldn’t believe what he was hearing .

"You're the only half-stark who remains a loyal friend to the North. You're a great warrior. You're a good man, Your Grace, and the North have you in a high respect."

Jon was in shock. He could not believe in anything he was hearing. He looked at Sansa, remembering when she said she couldn’t tell him what this meeting was about. At his side, she was quiet, embarrassed, she couldn't even look at him. 

"If Jon is Sansa's choice, they have my blessing." Bran said so everybody could hear very clearly.

Jon was trying to process everything in his mind, the things that this come with, all the implications of his union with Sansa. And everybody seems to see this as something really normal, even Bran.

…

"Sansa, I'm sorry, I should not have walked into your room like this ..."

Jon was petrified with the scene he was seeing right in front of him, he was utterly sloppy and inconsequential when he simply opened the door of Sansa's chambers and entered without any ceremony. Her sister was in her bath, immersed in a large bathtub with herbs and perfume, her hair caught in a loose mill above her head, eyes closed and neck lying on the copper curve of the tub.

Sansa, on the other hand, was not frightened. She did not tell him to go away at once, much less was discontent at having him there. Jon was intrigued by her sister's reaction and something inside him was producing tons of adrenaline for that moment. And he repressed it more than anything.

"You want things, Jon, that are already yours. There is nowhere to run. Part of you feels you do not deserve it and the other thinks you are wrong. But there’s nothing wrong in your feelings. "

These were Bran's last words before he left the Great Hall yesterday, after the most awkward moment he ever had in his life.

"Stay." Jon had to redo that scene a few times in his mind after hearing Sansa's words. Did he heard right?

"Excuse me?" He asked, not believing what she had asked him to do.

"Rub my back," she continued, but this time she had a yellow sponge in her hand. "I was waiting for the maid, but I do not think she's coming back. I suspect she's having an affair with one of the castle's guards.” She whispered amusingly, naturally, as if Jon was not there in front of her while she was naked.

His rational side was turned off and for a moment he was pure emotion, he saw himself where he should not be - where his mind said he should not be -, passing the sponge down Sansa's back and gently rub her delicate white skin. Her well-drawn neck was adorned with coppery strands of hair that fell from her messy bun, skin full of freckles ... Sansa's back was beautiful.

He grimaced at the strange thought in his mind.

"Are you going back to the Wall?" Sansa was avoiding that question a lot, but she could not anymore. There was no way, it was stuck in her throat. After the dinner, Bran left in Jon’s hands his pardon letter, signed by King Bran and Queen Sansa. He could stay, Sansa wanted to scream this out.

"No."

She contained the smile it was forming on her lips. His hands had already dropped the sponge on the water, but Jon was still touching her wet skin with his hands, unable to break that moment. 

"Forever?"

He laughed. He seldom laughed with her, they were almost always fighting over some silly reason.

"At least hide your contentment."

She shook her head and turned to look him in the eye. Both still hadn’t discussed what Sansa's council thought was the right thing for both of them: a union. It seemed an absurd word among them two, vulgar even. But instincts pointed their cravings for a different place that night.

"Why would I?"

"Well, I came here for this. To tell you this. I've sent a raven to Castle Black, writing about my decision to stay in Winterfell. With you."

Sansa didn’t think that after so much suffering things would really work for her. Her family reunited, she had her revenge, Jon killed the mad queen, she was crowned queen and today, right now, she heard Jon saying he would be with her at home for the rest of their lives. She couldn’t know what was going on in his mind about the subject of marriage. To her it all sounded half crazy, half absurd, but she could not help a tiny feeling growing in her thoughts ...

Curiosity.

"Get the oil on the table."

"Sansa." His word was an alert. Alerting them both. An alert for to the scenarios that formed in his head. An alert for what Sansa was planning in her head.

All the issue about Jon and Sansa’s union, the two rulers of the North, the perfect match for the desires and needs of the North, had created strange feelings within the two. 

Jon was feeling something gradual, almost imperceptible changes. Sansa started to laugh in a different way for him, her lips had a new rhythm as it moved to speak, her eyes blinked slower and beautifully. But inside of her, it was like a flash of truth coming to the surface, when you realize something that has always been right in front of you.

Sansa was blind but now she sees.

Jon is Jon.

But another Jon. Her Jon. Not Jon, the bastard, son of her father, that her mother made her grow up hating a bit. Jon was the protective man, the warrior who overcame enemies unimaginable by the man. The hero – that somehow - defeated her greatest trauma, beat him almost to death, and allowed her to take her revenge in the way her abuser deserved to have. Jon was the first man who loved her free of obscure intentions or obligation, loved her for being who she was. 

His Sansa.

"The shoulders." She guided him when she saw he was already pouring the liquid through his hands at her request.

The rough skin of his palm hand massaging her muscles was heaven, she felt every nerve in her body activate in a strange way, which made her almost jump out of  the tub.

"Is everything okay?" Jon asked, watching the water fiddle with her sudden movement, he searched her face to make sure Sansa was really there with him, and it was a mistake.

For a few seconds he judged it as a mistake.

He looked into her eyes, the woman with the hair kissed by the fire was no longer his sister. There was a strange aura around Sansa there, alive inside of her. That didn’t stop him from touching her, even when he saw she was taking her hand from the water and running her fingers over his face.

"I like your beard," she whispered.

Jon didn’t have time to think, Sansa was already hanging her face out of the tub and dragging her lips through his beard. The brutality and delicacy. "It’s so rough in my mouth," she commented through her mouth without detaching herself from his face.

"Sansa ... I don’t think ..." Jon tried to gather words with sense that would lead him to a coherent argument.

He failed.

And as she danced her voluminous lips over his skin, he ran his fragrant oil-soaked hands over her soft white shoulders.

"I'm not scared anymore" she whispered in his ear and for seconds he didn’t understand.

He turned his face away from her and looked her in the eye. Brilliant sapphires, jewels. They had a brighter glow that night. Until he understood Sansa's words.

And then Jon made the second mistake.

A single drop fell from Sansa’s eyes, a tear of happiness mixed with Sansa's smile. It made its way from her eyes, down her cheek, neck, slid into the space between her breasts, and joined the large amount of water in the tub. Her nipples, yes, were rosy with the small, reddish halo. Perfect. They were already out of the water, visible and tempting.

"Aren’t you curious?" She asked when she saw he was using the last bit of control inside of him.

Jon knew that at some point he could no longer control himself, he was already on the edge of an endless chasm. And she knew very well where his thoughts lay, judging by the shiver of his skin. His hand answered her question, descended curiously by the shoulders and stroked her hard nipple. Sansa bit her lip and met his eyes.

"It would be foolish."

"What's necessary is never foolish." She replied.

Jon wanted to ask where she got so many methods of trying a man, how she was so good at it. Or if he was only held hostage to the effects she had on his libido. He felt his hard cock straining against his pants in an uncomfortable way and it all got worse when Sansa came back with her lips to his ear, her tongue counting promiscuous secrets in the form of improper thoughts dancing through his mind, he got in there, then a bite at his ear and then she licked right after. Jon's hand now covered her entire breast, squeezing her deliciously and torturously.

Jon could not bear it, as if you were pushing a bag full of grains beyond its capacity and tried to close it, but the pressure exerted there would blow it up. And it exploded. He took Sansa by the waist and laid her back against the bathtub as he knelt in the middle of her legs - in the water - and gnawed her breast with hunger. Sansa bit her wrist so that the cry coming out of her throat did not catch anyone's attention, especially when his free hand found the valley hidden by her coppery hairs and caressed her intimacy. His fingers were huge - and thick – and they were doing a fantastic job. And his lips and tongue playing and sucking her nipples were more than she could ever imagine asking the gods one day.

Until Sansa found herself falling from the abyss without end. His skin was hot, it was trembling, it was on fire. His joints tingled, his head fried. In her throat the moan was muffled by Jon's mouth and he sucked her tongue as the moment pleasure found her. She would not know if she would survive it, but she didn’t care, she would die happy if that was paradise.

And when her breathing calmed and Jon's lips left simple kisses down her neck, she grabbed his shirt, still with eyes closed, gasping for air. A strange aura hovered there, as if the magnitude of her actions had ugly and irreparable consequences.

It was just irreparable.

Jon got up. He looked at a Sansa, fallen and exhausted, naked in the bath, for one last time and went out the door, leaving her more confused and full of questions than ever.

What had just happened there?

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NOTES:

1. The chapter has been revised by the most incredible D. And I love it! And the gif belongs to my bf littlegirlinvisible.

2. I am very happy with all the reach me and littlegirlinvisible is having after the first three chapters. It may not be much for some but for me it’s a lot.

3. Reblog, like and comment if you’re enjoying.

4. You’re all free to give me prompts and ideas. I am also open to request for another works.

My fanfictions have a lot of smuts, really a lot. If you are not comfortable with this, you are warned.

Follow the tag # swan song jonsa fanfic to see the posts and the gifsets whenever you want.

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I sincerely hope that everyone is enjoying it.

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CHAPTER INDEX:

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

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[spotlightsaga]

Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews... Riverdale /S01\/E10\ Chapter 10: The Lost Weekend Airdate: April 13, 2017 @cwnetwork Ratings: 0.872 Million :: 0.32 18-49 Demo Share Score: 8.5/10 @riverdaleseries @archiecomics TVTime/FB/Twitter/IG/Tumblr/Path/Pin: @SpotlightSaga **********SPOILERS BELOW********** Four Months late isn't too bad, right? See, in Miami, it's never cute to be the first person at the party, and really the party never ends until someone actually says it does... And clearly the Riverdale Party is still very much in full swing. So consider this 10th Entry 'Riverdale Revisit'; the after party to end all after parties. Of course, we're going to be set up for S2 when it goes live. This is definitely not one of the tv shows that Spotlight Saga will be dropping in the coming, world famous, 'fall tv' season frenzy. But don't get it twisted, there are many on the chopping block... OUR chopping block. We're looking at what gets our blood pumping and our thoughts racing, giving us something more to talk about than "Last Night on ___insert uninspired show number #45 here___." 'Riverdale' has made a massive stir across social media and of course on The CW & their worldwide dominating partner, Netflix, as well. I love that due to streaming, the new large amounts of cash pouring in from its subsequent deals, and actually several generations full of 'cord cutters', there are no longer rules to watching and writing about television series and films... Get to them when you can, some will watch them live, some will stream them later, some will wait until they can binge them all at once like a Weekend Warrior with a pocket full of Ecstasy and a head full of hallucinogens. It's our world now, and CBS, NBC, ABC, FOX, and more (or less) importantly 'Nielsen Holdings', no longer control what, when, where, why, and how much. Smell that? That's the sweet smell of change... And the remnants of murder and sticky maple syrup, obvi. Ive been extremely careful not to overpraise 'Riverdale' in the past. Similar series have only led to frustration or feelings of complete frustration. Its hard to know what to expect from a show like this in the near future... We all saw the demise of similar series like 'Pretty Little Liars' and other shows that run through the same type of vein... Kind of like many of the other ones attempted over at the now defunct ABC Family where PLL first started. Like The WB, UPN, and now The CW, ABC Family has also gone through a newly rebranding process that didn't do much to help the sinking ship they now call Freeform TV... A network that only 'The Fosters' and its cheesy sister show 'Shadowhunters' seem to be keeping afloat. We aren't being negative, we're being real... And when you're at a party, or in this case, 'After Party', you've got to be real. You just gotta... Even if no one ever wanted the party in the first place. If you don't know what I mean, let me spell it out for you. Ready? Set? Spell! Ah fuck it, we'll just spill the tea... 'Let's have a Kiki! Lock the doors tight!' I sometimes wonder if my obscure pop culture references I often sneak into these articles ever actually connect. They probably don't, but to that one person that got it, FUCK YEAH! It's the birthday of Jughead (Cole Sprouse)... And much like the very similar, fellow female counterpart, Sheila the She-Wolf, another introverted style character from 'Riverdale's sister show on Netflix, 'GLOW'... Jughead is not really into parties and/or making a big fuss about a birthday or bringing any unnecessary & unwanted attention to his person. Unfortunately for Betty (Lili Reinhart), Jughead isn't really big on camaraderie, most definitely not in the spirit equivalent to the 'Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling'! The reasons behind throwing these two characters' each their own impromptu birthday bashes on their respective tv shows are done for totally different reasons. With 'GLOW', it was slightly annoying at first (for Sheila, anyway), but eventually it turned from an apprehensive & anxiety filled event to a touching, sweet moment, where a closed off character had a major breakthrough that was captured in the perfect beam of light, allowing a significant development and enabling an insight into another character's backstory, bringing the whole cast together for the most part. In a great juxtaposition, on 'Riverdale', the psychology behind this one is actually much, much different... It's still got the 'trepidatious yet possible potential for a surprise moment of gratification' aspect down to a certain degree, but it doesn't go down the path of the balmy & charming. The reasoning behind Betty's sudden obsession to give Jughead the party that he never wanted, and the background as to why he's so against the idea in the first place certainly doesn't inspire camaraderie or any kind of 'feel good' moments, especially at the party itself. If anything, the intent is slightly bordering on the side of creepy. Riverdale?! Creepy?!? Yup! Keep up! It's only getting creepier. You see... We've been up on 'Riverdale' and then back down, and then back up and down again... And I think everyone here will openly admit that it's mostly due to a shaky CW track record, as well as similar networks just like it, though there has been a few inconsistencies outside of this oddball tone & beautiful color scheme we're always raving about. However, when the show fully embraces its complete and total anomalous, almost freakish eccentricities, we all just fall right back in love with the show again. It's episodes like 'Chapter 10: The Lost Weekend' that completely make us forget about past network follies and shows like PLL completely losing their way after gaining our trust and enthusiasm in its beginning stages. Reinhart is effortlessly serving up 'Bizarre, Bilateral, Betty Bananas' like a full-on, award ready, seasoned vet. Seriously, I don't want to blow too much smoke up the kid's ass, but I'm pretty sure her breakthrough performance here would even make the likes of decorated actress such as Nicole Kidman proud. Betty Cooper has a duality that Reinhart not only highlights with strong, hearty performances... But it's also the efforts of Director Dawn Williamson, a phenomenal Art Department (you guys KICK MAJOR ASS), Cinematographer Stephen Jackson (this guy was award-worthy in this episode), and Costume & Wardrobe (hell, everyone involved in the smallest, minute details) framed from shot to shot... The absurdity of how tight & perfectly situated her ponytail is, how hard she clenches her hands (leaving scratch marks on her palms), even the way she holds the cake & dawns the signature 'Jughead Crown', to whoever made the call of having those weirdo party goers in horse masks in the background - Good call, guys! That was freaking CRAZY! It's all those little things that make the picture such a pleasure to watch... Turning what seems like a normal teen drama at first glance, to a finely tuned, surprisingly compelling theatrical spectacle. The crazy is in full on abundance, though... It's not just Betty. Suddenly after a string of a few disappointing episodes, I come back after a break and either see things in a totally different light, or it could be that this was just slowly building right under our noses the whole time, or *the most plausible of all three options* is that the ironically lowest rated episode of the series, according to the great analysts over at Nielsen, is actually the most technically sound, character driven, insanely atmospheric entry of the entire 1st Season. Veronica Lodge (Camila Mendes) finally lets go of some deep resentments she's been bottling up and goes after Cheryl Blossom (Madelaine Petsch). This is a task that I wouldn't suggest to any person of sound or capable mind to attempt in any way, shape, fashion, or form. The act is crazy in and of itself, and pissing off the 'Ravishing Redhead' that literally wears the letters 'HBIC' on the back of her cheerleading uniform, that's 'Head Bitch in Charge' for anyone too young or too old to remember Tiffany Pollard of VH1's 'I Love New York', is obviously going to lead to a backlash that Veronica won't likely forget. Sure she might get her big 'W' now, but we must remind you... There's no 'W' in 'HBIC'. Meanwhile, Cole Sprouse & Skeet Ulrich, who plays Serpent Gangster FP Jones & Jughead's father on the show, are literally close to actually convincing me that they are really father and son in real life. The little ticks and nuances that they share are out of this fn' world insane. Either these two have spent a week in a trailer together mirroring their every move or we seriously need to ring in Maury Povich for a DNA Test! Oh, and apparently there's some guy on the show named Archie Andrews (KJ Apa)... The only drawback is that they've failed to make the main protagonist (is he tho?) even remotely interesting. He's good looking, but he's not a convincing redhead, and I'm still not hooked into his arc. Hey, that's ok... Enter Mary Andrews (Molly Ringwald - ChaChing!), Archie's long lost mother. So nice of you to finally drop in, Molly! Fred Andrews (Luke Perry) is ready to finalize the divorce, but we're just biting on all the possibly juicy dramatic scenarios! Who is Archie again? Back at the party, that burgeoning rivalry between Veronica and Cheryl hits its boiling point when Veronica gets a bit too carried away and accuses Cheryl and her deceased brother Jason (Trevor Stines) of having an incestious affair. Ah, gotta love seedy underbelly of the United States! The more money, the crazier the family!!! Oh but there's more! Good ol' All-American Chuck (Jordan Calloway), who actually WAS almost boiled alive, attempts to out Betty on her 'Dr. Jeckyl/Ms. Hyde' issue that surfaced when a hot tub prank got a bit too out of hand earlier in the season. To our surprise, and viewer delight, Jughead and his Dad actually had a moment, which was completely unexpected, yet felt completely real. Like I said before, Ulrich & Sprouse have stellar chemistry, and the writers seem to know this and obviously derive great pleasure in giving us this moment where the two aren't at total odds and Jughead not only carefully considers, but actually takes his biological father's advice... Providing solid proof that the series isn't trying to meander or stretch out any unnecessary storylines at all. No disrespect to fans of other series broadcast on The CW, but clearly this isn't 'The Flash'. These storylines seem to be heading into important territory at a reasonable pace, and not just hanging around to fulfill an episode number requested by an executive to make sure ad-space quotas are filled... Although I have considered that this could be an issue that the show could run into in its expanded 22-Episode Run that it's been greenlit for S2. There's plenty of juicy drama to go around, but when we see that drama making moves instead of being drawn out, then you know you've got a potentially good show on your hands. For now, 'Riverdale' is back on a solid trajectory, delivering what appears to be a set-up episode for the impending S1 finale... A set-up episode that was easily the most consistent entry to date from start to finish. The impression that an episode as good as this exists to move its characters like chess pieces, seemingly just to put everyone in place for the final three episodes is an exciting notion for the last 3 hours of S1 of 'Riverdale' to come!

[x-men-x-imagines]

Imagine #18 Charles Xavier - Part 2 (Request)

Requested by Anon: hi! so can i request a charles x reader one shot that ive been thinking of? ok so first of all y/n and charles were super close as teens but y/n died at around 19(got mixed up in smth), charles was devastated and hes still not 100% over it as an adult so when the xmen find a mutant who can control time he ends up asking them to go back and try to save y/n? and they try and they have to convince her to stay safe bcs ‘theres some1 who needs her’ or some cute shit like that?..but if u do this thx!

Not my gif

Words: 1552

Warnings: typos, fem!reader, time travel (?)

A/N: This is part 2 out of 3, the last one will probably be up some time next week. Enjoy! xoxo

Part 1 - Part 3

“Y’know, I wonder”, Peter said in a singing voice, skipping down the sidewalk next to a way more serious Jean. “I wonder, why they picked us.”

“Probably, because they know, how much we care about Charles.” “And you do care a lot for him, don’t you?”, Peter teased and shoved his elbow into her side. Jean blushed slightly. “Don’t be absurd, you know that I’m with Scott, you jerk!” “Oh, this isn’t about Scott or no Scott, I don’t know a single person, who doesn’t have a crush on the professor. And I’m not even gay! Or am I?”, he laughed out loud.

“Yeah, sure. So, about the plan.”, Jean interrupted. “We need to find y/n. Raven said, if not on campus, she’d probably be at the library, but I think know that we can get in without any kind of identification. I don’t know, how thrilled they would be, if we showed them two IDs from the future.”

“See, that’s why you have me!”, Peter cheered. “I’ll be in and back out before anyone notices anything. Damn, good thing y/n is a mutant as well, or else she would be in for the shock of a lifetime.” He didn’t sound concerned at all.

In front of an impressively huge stone building, complete with pillars and ornaments, they came to a halt. “Wow! I didn’t even know that was here. Does that exist in the future as well?” Jean shot him a glance from the side. “Maybe you should slow down once in awhile to appreciate things like architecture. It’s all about general knowledge.” “Yeah, but what do I need that for, if I can just look anything up in a split second? It’s not like anyone would ever know!”

“You’re really fidgety today.”, Jean commented. “Yeah I had a coffee.” An expectant silence formed between them, before she added: “So, are you gonna get her?” “Oh, yeah.” And with that, Peter disappeared, only to return moments later and, much to Jean’s dismay, empty-handedly.

“She wasn’t there.” He sounded slightly disappointed. “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure, I checked every room twice. What’d you think, took me so long, huh?” “O-kay. So now what?”

“In hindsight, it probably would have been a good idea for Raven to just give us her address. I mean, we don’t really have the time to search every building in the city, not even you could do that.” “Try me.”, Peter grinned. The sun was going down already, Jean realized nervously, which meant that they only had about a day left, until Sammy would get them back. “Well, given our current success rate, we might actually not have a choice.” “Oh, come on, we’ve only tried the library, the college and two cafés.”

“Whatever. Let’s get some food.”, Jean murmured. It’s not like she had expected this to be easy, mainly because she had never time-travelled before, but also because the professor was usually the one organizing any kind of mission. They probably would have found you by now, if the professor had been involved, Jean thought. She couldn’t help but smile, as Peter opened the diner door for her, greeting her with an exaggerated bow.

There was only one free table and Jean accepted it thankfully. Only seconds later, a waitress appeared, offering them breadsticks and the menu. “So, where else could we look? There are some other cafés and restaurants.”, she started listing her suggestions and trying to pull Peter’s attention away from the menu, only to once again lose it to something seemingly very interesting behind her back. “Peter!”, she hissed, immediately regretting it. She tended to get a little curt when hungry and tired. But Peter simply shot her a meaningful grin before placing his eyes back on the object of his attention.

“I don’t think, we’ll have any difficulties finding her.”, he stated in a tone that seemed almost dreamy, just as Jean turned around and met the eyes of a truly incredible figure at the table by one of the windows. Shimmering, almost glowing white hair ran down your back like a waterfall, your skin just as indefinably beautiful as your whole form. Even sitting down, your figure emitted a most fundamental kind of elegance, as if your body was constantly being touched by the lightest of breezes.

It had to be you, Jean thought. There was no way that Raven couldn’t have been talking about that girl by the window. You were unmistakably beautiful in the strangest, but also most obvious way that Jean had ever seen.

“Wow.”, Peter murmured and Jean couldn’t help but nod. So you were the person Charles still couldn’t forget, even after almost 25 years of being apart. Subconsciously, Jean stretched out her mind, touching yours, trying to… she didn’t even know why. To see, if your mind was just as extraordinary as everything else about you, maybe.

Charles, please! I asked you not to get into my head., a gentle hum wavered through Jean’s mind and she immediately retreated. Only now she noticed the person sitting opposite of you at the table.

“Looking good.”, Peter commented. Jean had to agree. This was a very different kind of Charles, younger, of course, but also… happier? Less settled, less perfect. Less of a professor, more of a young man. Neither Jean nor Peter had ever known him like this.

“Let’s do this.”, Peter interrupted Jean’s thoughts by getting up, aiming for the table by the window. She grabbed his hand. “Peter, no! You can’t talk to her in front of him!” “Why not? He know that she’s a mutant, how couldn’t he?” Peter gestured towards you. “He mustn’t know! It might ruin everything, change everything.”, Jean insisted. Peter furrowed his brows and sat back down. “Isn’t that our job, though?”, he asked. “Aren’t we here to change everything?”

“Yes, but we need to talk to her alone, we don’t know…” Jean was interrupted by the professor und you, standing up and walking towards the diner door whilst continuing a seemingly rather heated discussion. She could only hear snippets of what you said, but you didn’t look happy and the professor’s eyes bore the kind of expression, that they only showed, whenever a student hadn’t done his papers in class for like the thousandth time. “Oh no, this isn’t good.”, Jean murmured, trying to pick up, whatever your discussion was about, without you or Charles noticing her presence again. Conveniently, telepathy turned out to be unnecessary, as your disagreement got even more heated and loud enough for Jean to hear every word.

“You know what I mean.”, Charles said, his voice sounding urgent, like he was desperately trying to convince you of something. “Yes, I know, but I don’t agree. What do you think will happen, if we don’t do anything, Charles? Who is supposed to stand up for us? People don’t change all by themselves!” “And what if you…” “What if I get hurt? As oppose to countless others getting hurt, because we are too scared to fight? I don’t get it, Charles!” And with that, you stormed out of the door, leaving behind a dumbfounded Charles, who was tiredly rubbing his face, and a dining room full of silent, nosy people.

“Is this my queue to run after her?”, Peter asked, shoving a whole breadstick in his mouth before disappearing without waiting for an answer. Jean dropped a few dollars on the table, for their drinks, before running after him, but not without stealing a last glance at the desperate professor. Seeing him like this, with you, and hearing what you had to say, she suddenly realized, how important it was not to fail this mission.

Raven had said, that you could change everything for the mutant community, that it had always been your dream to fight for equal rights and to someday change the fate of all of you. And hearing what you had said to Charles, Jean actually believed her. Yes, in her time, mutants lived out in the open, but what they had still wasn’t anywhere close to equality. To maybe change history, to save you and give you the chance to fight for what was right, for what you believed in… Up to this point, Jean had only wanted to save you because of Charles and because of the fact, that you had been her age, when these men had killed you and that nobody deserved to practically die a child. But this was more and suddenly, Jean thought, as she hasted down the street, following the direction, in which you had disappeared, suddenly, she was so thankful to have this opportunity, to be able to make a difference.

With a sudden gust of wind and a wide grin, Peter reappeared in front of her and made her jump. “Jesus, Peter!”, she cursed, placing on hand on her racing heart. “Where is she?” Jean looked behind him.

“I followed her home. It’s only a few blocks from here, but I thought, it might be weird, if a total stranger just jumped her in the dark, you know?” Jean nodded, though slightly disappointed. “We can just go to her house tomorrow morning. Slightly less creepy, if you ask me.”, Peter grinned. “We should probably find a place to stay for the night.”

[stairstab]

@ my non-homestuck friends

It will take you five minutes but im literally begging you to read this chat log between John and Dave where dave comes out of fucking nowhere to utterly demolish heteropatriarchy for his good Straight Male friend john

This is sincerely one of the best logs in the entire comic and i just want people outside of our fandom to appreciate how Hussie handled this subject matter

DAVE: dude i gotta say DAVE: when you talk about being or not being "a homosexual" you kinda sound like a corny old man JOHN: what! why? JOHN: no, that's a normal way of putting it! JOHN: i mean... it's a pretty normal thing to say, right? when that's... how... you are? KARKAT: SOMEBODY FUCKING KILL ME. DAVE: what does normal mean though DAVE: normal was some crap that ruled our dead civilization DAVE: we left that behind years ago DAVE: its all a huge pile of shit that doesnt matter anymore JOHN: oh. kay? JOHN: so then, you're saying... JOHN: what are you saying? DAVE: im not sure i guess JOHN: ... DAVE: ok i guess what im saying is DAVE: i dont think its all as simple as you think it is DAVE: or maybe not like ACTIVELY think it is but continue to assume it is on account of NOT thinkin about it much DAVE: due to a lot of junk about the subject that gets shoved into our brains from movies and stuff while we were just dumb kids JOHN: i, JOHN: hm. DAVE: im just saying it probably isnt as absolute or simplistic as the way youve been framing it DAVE: or maybe it is for you personally i dont know DAVE: im just guessing you havent spent much time thinking about it if only cause all the stuff we read and watch suggests that like even examining your honest thoughts about it is perilous road to go down DAVE: cause if you actually think too much about it without always having that undercurrent of haha nope nope nope THEN what happens DAVE: what if it turns out youre like... JOHN: ...like? DAVE: like not exactly the way you thought you were DAVE: or maybe not so much that, as old presumptions about what you were turn out to be not that relevant? KARKAT: (WHY. WHY ARE THESE WORDS HAPPENING TO OUR CONVERSATION.) DAVE: i dunno man DAVE: not sure what youve been doing the last 3 years all riding a large boat, then saving everyone from apocalyptic whatever DAVE: but ive had a fuck ton of time on my hands to think about stuff DAVE: about stuff ive said and done in the past why i said and did them DAVE: a lot of things i once would have insisted were like part of my brand and helped me come across cool and smartassy DAVE: but now im not so sure DAVE: we used rip on each other all the time for being gay even though we knew we werent which of course is what made it "funny" remember JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i dunno, it was pretty funny, sometimes. JOHN: it was just a lot of joking around! DAVE: yeah i know DAVE: it frankly IS funny to say how gay something is sometimes and lets face it sometimes someone or something is just flat out REALLY fucking gay and theres no two ways about it DAVE: its more like that through the preponderance of all that jokey shit is an underlying implication that its all lame stuff for pansies but not like us no were not lame and ha ha thats the joke DAVE: which thrives on this like double-buried implication that the REAL COOL SHIT is founded on this absurd wanky ideal about masculinity which if you think about it is 1. dumb as fuck 2. the male adulation of masculinity to that extent TO BE HONEST is pretty fucking gay unto itself and 3. was always some totally impossible shit for us to live up to anyway DAVE: i think all thats mixed up with the same phony ideals about heroism DAVE: like living up to the storybook idea of what a hero to me feels almost interchangeable with living up to societys snapshot of what a hard manly dude should be DAVE: i stopped pretending i could ever live up to either thing a while ago DAVE: and mainly have spent time looking back on the sheer magnitude of all my "joking around" DAVE: i used to lambaste fuckers left and right grinding them into the pavement over how gay they probably were and how much they were quite possibly jonesin to kiss some dudes or such DAVE: and i dont really feel bad about it in the sense that it was jerky or like "insensitive" necessarily even though i guess it maybe was DAVE: more that i feel like it was probably transparent DAVE: a massive front of outrageous snark to disguise a lot of insecurity DAVE: like a fuckin coverup DAVE: as long as i kept clowning hard about it i didnt actually have to think about it or face my actual beliefs

[revivedlegend]

five times + quentin cleaning his gun (for sara and ray bc i had to)

Send me ‘five times + a word’ and I’ll write a drabble about our muses based on it  // selectively accepting

Five Times Quentin Lance cleaned/handled his gun around Ray and/or Sara

@drcwningvoices​ 

i.

It’s not his usual jurisdiction but he’s in the area. He won’t admit it to anyone else at the station, but he’s looking for Sara. She was due home an hour ago. Her phone’s dead or off and Dinah’s starting to fret beneath her normally cool exterior. Quentin’s going to find his daughter but he’s going to answer this alert first. Noise in the old warehouse off First Street - could be a lead to Sara.

He hears the noises almost as soon as he gets out of the squad car. Something that sounds like the crashing of paint cans and a grunt of pain. He draws his gun and approaches slowly. The slow dread seeps into his bones; Sara had better not be here…but then, Quentin hears voices.

“Nice job, Dummy.”

“I just gotta re-calibrate the thrust and the-”

“Ray, you can’t just give yourself rocket skates with Heelys.”

“…You think I gotta start from scratch?”

“Yeah but don’t take this as me actually telling you to make your own rocket skates.”

…He knows that voice…Quentin steps into the warehouse proper…and there she is. His baby girl. All golden hair and bright smiles, helping some scrawny boy to his feet.

“Sara Yvonne Lance, what the hell are you doing?”

Cue crashing noises as the boy falls to the ground once more. Given his startled stare, it’s due to the gun and not the sudden voice. His daughter isn’t flustered at all, chirping out a bright “Hi Daddy. This is Ray. He’s a science nerd.” Aforementioned science nerd manages a weak wave, still staring down the barrel of the gun with utter dread. And all Quentin can do is blink, though his grim expression doesn’t dim.

Sara understands. “...We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“Big time.”

ii.

It’s no longer uncommon for Quentin to get calls about that old warehouse - others at the station always assuming the disturbances are about “your youngest and that Palmer boy again.” And maybe seven times out of ten...it IS Sara and her little friend, working on experiments of his. Dinah suggests they just spend time over at the house but it’s maybe two months after that first meeting before Sara announces that Ray will be at the house the following evening. They have a physics test that Friday and Sara’s been slipping - perhaps more than either she or Laurel will admit to their parents but Quentin isn’t privy to his girls’ grades aside from their report cards.

There’s pizza and soda on the table beside where Quentin works. It’s been a while since he’s deep cleaned his gun - at least, that’s what he tells his wife. Though judging by Dinah’s disapproving stare, she knows better. 

The young boy’s bright grin dims as he walks into the kitchen, eyes drawn to the dissembled pieces of metal like a magnet. Quentin doesn’t bother looking up for more than a second, those he’s inwardly fairly smug at the boy’s reaction. Oliver and Tommy have long since stopped being nervous around him - if they ever were. It’s nice to see a boy who knows his place.

“Raymond.” His voice is level, civil - he had promised Sara, after all.

The teenager’s gulp is almost audible, even from across the table. “D...Detective Lance,” he greets in return, trying and failing to hide his nervousness.

Sara flounces in a moment after, gathering up pizza on a paper plate for herself. She nudges Ray with her shoulder, jerking her head in the direction she had just come. “Come on,  we can go work in my room.”

“Door open, young lady,” Quentin interjects, pointing the now clean and assembled but unloaded gun towards his daughter briefly. Ray flinches just a bit but Sara only rolls her eyes in response. She nudges Ray once more, urging him to get his food and follow her. And he does so, scrambling to get out from under the scrutinizing gaze of her father as quickly as possible.

It’s a few minutes later, when the pair are settled in Sara’s room, that his daughter’s exasperated voice floats down to the kitchen, to Quentin’s ears. “Oh my GOD, Ray, my dad isn’t going to kill you!”

There’s silence before his wife enters the kitchen for a slice of pizza herself. “You could look a little more upset that you’ve terrified Sara’s friend.”

“You know me, Di. ‘m not a very good actor,” Quentin teased, smile widening.  

iii.

Sara looks confused and maybe a touch more flustered than intended when Laurel announces that her sister’s going to prom with her boyfriend. “Ray and I are just friends,” she insists, though the flush on pink in her cheeks betrays otherwise. For a while, Quentin thinks she’s lying but Dinah tells him he’s absurd - “She knows how much I like that boy. If they were dating, she’d tell me,” his wife insists.

No, Sara’s story is that she and Ray will be attending prom with a group of friends and would only be “together” because the rest of the group was coupled off, for pictures and the like. But Quentin can see the signs; it’s his job to read between the lines, to see what criminals try to hide. And though he can’t say he likes ANY of the boys who try to date his girls...Ray Palmer isn’t a criminal by any stretch of the imagination.

But that doesn’t stop Quentin from being able to read between the lines. The excited grins, the nervous and trembling fingers that slip the flowered corsage onto a thin wrist, the close way they stand - always just barely touching - even before Dinah announces she needs to take pictures before they leave.

Quentin returns his focus to his gun but finds it drifting back to the teenagers every time. It’s been a while since he’s seen Sara this giddy...it’s a pretty sight. 

“Why don’t you too move over by the fireplace?” Quentin suggests, gesturing with the piece of disassembled weaponry in his hand. “It’ll be a nicer background.”

Their grins disappear almost immediately - Ray gulps nervously, nodding because who could refuse Detective Lance? Sara frowns - the picture of her mother - glaring at her father, silently begging him to be silent.

But their wide, excited smiles return when they leave - Ray holding the door open for Sara to exit the house first, with a promise to the Lance matriarch to have Sara home by 1. And Quentin lets them go. Because there’s gonna come a day when he can’t stop Sara anymore. And at least, she has someone else watching her back now.

iv.

“You’re an old fashioned sort of guy, Raymond.”

A slight shrug, a sheepish smile. “Not always. But I figured you’d appreciate it.”

And he does. More than he’ll admit. He stares across the table at the boy before him - no...no, young Raymond Palmer was indeed a man now. Not just because he had grown into his body - no longer gangly and scrawny but tall and shapely and muscular. But also because he seemed more self assured. He knows who he is. He knows what he wants. Even if it has taken him years to get to this point. 

There’s still that nervousness shining in his eyes, following Quentin’s fingers as he works to clean his gun - though the older man suspects that Ray knows he’s not doing it to keep it clean. But he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t move away. He doesn’t stutter. He waits patiently for the man’s full attention and he stands his ground, even if he’s still a little anxious.

Quentin can respect that. 

So he sets his work down and folds his hands before him, meeting the younger man’s gaze head on. “So. You want to take Sara out on a date.” It’s not a question.

Ray nods. “Yes sir.” His neutral expression gives way to a slight smile - sheepish but undeniably fond - and Quentin knows he’s not thinking about their conversation, but rather the girl it centers on. “She, uh...she thought I was kind of dumb for wanting to ask you.”

Quentin wasn’t surprised; he had long since stopped trying to control his youngest. Sara wouldn’t willingly let anyone tell her what to do, unless it was something she’d do anyway. “So why are you?”

This leaves Ray silent for a moment, only shrugging once. “I dunno. We’ve never really seen eye to eye, Detective. The, uh...the gun makes that pretty clear.” A pause and when he gathers his thoughts and meets Quentin’s gaze again, the nervousness is gone from Ray’s eyes. “But I care about Sara. Probably more than I’ve ever cared about anyone else. And I don’t want to screw things up because I wasn’t willing to bury the hatchet with you.”

Now it’s Quentin’s turn for silence. Yes. Ray Palmer was definitely a man now.

It’s a long moment before Quentin speaks. “Have her home by 12.”

“It’s Sara,” Ray laughs. “I’ll try, sir, but you know she’s going to stay out as long as she wants.”

Quentin chuckles in agreement, nodding ever so slightly. “You’re right, you’re right.”

v.

She’s giddy again and Quentin is reminded of her prom night. The light flush in her cheeks is back, the wide and dazzling grin the prettiest thing she wears - though the dress is stunning too. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying to expel her anxious energy while behind closed doors. It’s kind of an endearing sight and Quentin can’t help but chuckle.

“Easy, Angel. We’ll get going soon enough.”

“I know, I know, I just,” Sara sighs in quiet exasperation, though her smile barely dims. “I just wanna get it over with, you know? It’s...It’s been a long time coming.”

No one would argue with her on that. It had taken longer than anyone had anticipated for this day to finally arrive.

“You’ve waited for years, Sara, you can wait another five minutes,” he teases. He can see the look of protest on her face - as if she wants to whine like a teenager that she couldn’t wait - but something glints in the corner of her vision and Sara frowns lightly.

“...Daddy, why are you armed?”

“Always gotta be at the ready, Angel,” he answers, patting his shoulder holster reassuringly. He pauses for only a moment before grinning playfully at his baby girl. “Besides, one last effort to try and scare Raymond off won’t hurt anyone.”

Her exasperation dissipates slightly, giving way to a playfully tired look. “Daddy, you haven’t been able to scare off Ray for the last decade. I doubt he’s gonna suddenly decide he’s scared of you on our wedding day.”

Quentin chuckles because...yeah, the idea is absurd. Nothing is going to stop Ray and Sara from having their special day, just the way they’ve wanted it. Not even a father saddened about watching his daughter go. He knows this, he’s known this is where his daughter and her fiance were headed for years. No one - least of all an armed Quentin Lance - can stopped it now. And he doesn’t really want to, not when Sara os so happy.

The piano strikes up a familiar tune and Sara’s nervous energy is back. Quentin double checks his gun in its holster before holding his arm out for his daughter. “Come on. I think Raymond’s just as anxious as you are to get this show on the road.”

[beardedwinnerobject-blog]

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"Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

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Which color and style cars are the most expensive in insurance??

I looking at getting myself a chevy cobalt, I want a black, white or red coupe style but I know that they can be a little more in insurance and I just want to know what colors and styles are the most.. By the way I'm a 22 year old female in Chicago, I know that might make a difference in the cost as well.. Any info would be helpful..""

How much does it cost to add a minor to my (RACQ)insurance if there under the age of 25?

How much does it cost to add a minor to my (RACQ)insurance if there under the age of 25?

Whats better an automatic s10 or a 5 spd s10 and which will be cheaper on insurance single cab or ext cab?

Whats better an automatic s10 or a 5 spd s10 and which will be cheaper on insurance single cab or ext cab?

I need a new credit card so I can pay my car insurance.?

Can I get a new credit card then pay my 400+ car insurance with it and then be able to pay it off gradually without having interest rates added to the bill? The cards say 0% interest for the first 9 months BUT they then say if you pay your credit card bill in full you don`t have interest on it. What does this mean if it already states you don`t have interest for the first 9 months anyway? It doesn`t make sense, none of it.""

Car insurance?

if you have a bright color car like red car.. do you pay more insurance?

What motorcycle would be cheap to insure in Greater Toronto Area?

Hello everyone! I am a new 20 years old motorcyclist living in the suburban GTA. I just got my M1 license and I've enrolled myself into a motorcycle course which would help me earn my M2 by the end of September. So, I was thinking about buying a new motorcycle around new years time or in february. I am trying to do all my research but I havent got too far with the insurance problem. I want a bike that could get me up and down the highway to my school in downtown Toronto (40 km each way). and maybe some occasional weekend rides. First question comes to my mind is what bike should I get that'll be good for commuting and would be cheap on insurance. Experience wise I am comfortable with upto most 650 sport bikes. But I do understand that insurance may vary. Another question was, which insurance provider should I chose, that is fairly cheap considering I have never had any sort of insurance policy under my name. Or, should I wait till next summer when I turn 21? Thanks for the replies in advance!""

How to Get Health Insurance If You're Not Married?

In CT how can you be put on your boy/girlfriends insurance if you're not married? We live and own a house together. CT does not recognize common-law marriage.

Who is the best and most affordable company to go through for homeowners insurance ?

Who is the best and most affordable company to go through for homeowners insurance ?

""I'm being low balled by an insurance claims adjuster for damage to my car, now what?

I had a claim against a guys insurance company for damage he caused. They came out today and did an evaluation and now the insurance estimator is saying that the vehicle needs to be totaled and that I will be offered some low ball figure because my car has prior damage which was only cosmetic and minor nothing structural at all. I know that the vehicle will be worth more than they are going to offer. But I just want a fair price for the car. They suggested that it might take some back and forth negotiations and I need to know how to prepare for that and succeed at getting something fair? Are there any angles or cards that I can play that should give me some leverage against their claims adjuster? Your help is appreciated and thank you for your answer!

Im a first time driver and never had car insurance?

I went to get a free quote online but i got to a page where it said something about my previous car insurance plan i was with. But i have never had any kind of car insurance because im about to get my first car soon. how do i get a free quote even though its asking about previous companies??? somebody please help me

Do additional safety features pay for themselves via cheaper insurance rates?

Specifically anti-lock brakes and side curtain airbags, on a small sedan. I'm planning on buying a new or less used vehicle soon. The only things that matter are: gas efficiency, reliability, and a low total price to own.""

How much is an average motorcycle?

I'm thinking of getting my motorcycle license soon, how much would a new Honda cost? I'm talking about the cost of the bike, not insurance etc.""

Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

What is the cost of the insurance for the car i want ?

I want a Suzuki Ignis 1.5 sport im just about to start driving wants the insurance going to cost ?

Good car for a 18 year old thats cheap on insurance?

Hi, i just turned 18 and recently have been looking in purchasing a used car. my budget is about $5000 and I will be able to afford my own insurance. I dont want a very low quality but i also cant afford a mercedes. So what do you think i should look at? I live in Ontario Canada btw.""

What is an average g2 driver's insurance worth?

I Have: -G2 Lisence -2012 camaro ss -primary (only) driver of vehicle -driver's ed training. looking for average monthly insurance. im in ontario, canada.""

Health insurance in NY? Minor children & jobs that don't offer healthcare?

My friend has twins that are 17 & they are having a hard time finding affordable health insurance like many people, she works 2 jobs that total around 2,300 a month & her husband makes around 3,000.. None of the jobs offer healthcare to the kids, they tried a insurance called Hudson health but ended up being told it would be about $600 a month which they can't pay, does anyone know any insurance that works with you, or that is more affordable? Any help is much appreciated :) thank you""

Does anyone know an insurance company that offers cheap/free SR-22's for license ?

need it to keep my lic. valid. ASAP... help please!

""Fast, fwd or awd, reliable, manual car that's cheap on insurance?

I already thought of a few possibilities. RSX Base 5 speed 05-06 Mazdaspeed Protege Scion TC Legacy GT Celica GT (possibly gts) EXPENSIVE INSURANCE (I live in NJ) RSX type s WRX EVO Just looking for ideas. Preferably cars that are cheap on insurance and easy to mod.

Any cheap motor insurance company for 19yr old?

19yrs old, licence since May '05, planning to buy a Fiat Seicento Sporting (grp. 3), Bradford postcode. I know insurance below the tonne is hard to come by in my circumstances, but any help/suggestions would be be appreciated. Thanks in advance.""

Cost of Insurance for Nissan 350Z?

I am 18 years old (about to turn 19) and gonna buy a 350Z (well my parents are). I have always wanted one and I am getting it for looks and commuting only. But to be safe, I will buy a police radar and install a kill switch as soon as I get it. My question is how much would insurance be for a 2004-2005 Nissan 350Z? Would it be better to buy the Z in my parents' name under my parents' insurance? Also, I am curious of how much do any of you pay for a car like a 350Z.""

Will my license get suspended if I don't have insurance?

I had a 6 month policy. It ended the 20th of this month. However my insurance was due the 28 of last month and I wasn't able to pay it. Will my license get suspended if I don't have insurance? I don't drive it, it just sits in the drive way. Am I okay as long as I'm not driving or does it not matter? If it does matter does anyone know anything I can do to keep it from getting suspended? Also does anyone know of any affordable insurance companies? I'm 20 years old, so I know it's gonna be more for me than someone over 25.""

How much should my car insurance go down by after a year?

Female, 18yrs old""

Is it any wonder so many 17-30 year olds are driving around without insurance?

This is obviously the fault of the insurance companies for pricing them out of the market with their ridiculously high quotes

What is an affordable life insurance for a cigarette smoker?

What is an affordable life insurance for a cigarette smoker?

How much info does a third party insurance company need?

I was asked to clear out an office a few weeks ago for the company that I work for. I got given a transit van and drove into London no problems. On the way back while parking up at work I hit another persons car and tore the bumper off. I found out who it was and told her straight away, she wasnt happy but I explained that Im covered by the company. She has started to claim though her insurance and our faculties department has done the same. I have told my insurance company aswell. The faculties department has asked for my insurance details for my private car insurance? Im not happy about giving them these details, can I refuse?""

Im pregnant and dont have insurance?

im pregnant and the father picked up and left any way what do i do????? i really need insurance i need to make sure im okay please help thanks

CAR INSURANCE~with points?

if someone has 2 or more convictions on there licence, they have to declare thses, but is there a car insurance company that does not take theses convictions into account ? long shot i know but ya never know.... points were for exceeding 30 mph (34) and 50 (59)...no lectures please.....""

Car insurance question ONTARIO?

I am 18, live in Toronto, Ontario and dreaming of having a car, but I can't afford to pay $400 a month or more, so, could I get my dad to buy the car with my money, register it as if it his, get cheap insurance for it as if it was his, and then just drive it all the time having the proper car documents on me. How much of a legal issue would that be if a cop pulled me over and I showed him that the car is family owned and insured and I just happen to be driving it today. My family already has a truck and a Toyota, I don't know if that is relevant or not, but Im just throwing it out there. And just to make sure, what would happen if (god forbid) I was to get in an accident and wasn't at fault? how about if it was my fault(talk about sticky situations).""

Anyone know the cheapest car insurance around?

Anyone know the cheapest car insurance around?

Health insruance for the umemployed?

I'm actually employed but theres no insurance....Are there any insurance companies that I could get with, keeping in mind that I already have health problems......You know most insurance companies wont even write because you have problems already, are there any that will???""

Do Americans want Gov't run healthcare like medicaid and medicare or do they want affordable health insurance?

Do Americans want Gov't run healthcare like medicaid and medicare or do they want affordable health insurance?

""If I go to traffic school, will the point be taken away and my car insurance be the same rate?

Traffic school/ Car Insurance

Can you ask a car insurance company to lower your rate/payment?

If so, how would I go about that? I know that many companies have loyalty/continuous coverage discounts, but the discount for my current insurance really isn't enough, and my payment (I make a full, 6-month payment) goes up every time. Should I ask for a specific amount/percentage? Should I ask them to keep the cost the same as 6 months ago, etc? Thanks for any advice. **I've been with the company for over a year.""

How much do Brits pay monthly for health insurance?

I see them on here all the time talking about how much better their system is than ours, that it is more affordable. How do they know how much it is costing them monthly if they are taxed to pay for it?""

How much do you think my insurance will go up?

I got a ticket about a month ago for exhibition of speed and i have court soon but i need to know how much my insurance will go up after our next policy. it wasnt a serious ticket it was just me and my buddy racing from one stop light to the next one. we didnt even go over the limit. i might even get off with nothing because its my first ticket i dunno. but ya, i have alstate and its insured under my parents name and we have our cars, 4 wheelers, snowmobiles, cabin, house, life, and pretty much everything with allstate. its about 600 every 6 months currently for my car. about how much do you think it will go up? thank you.""

How much will my insurance go up after a minor accident and a aspeeding ticket?

I live in California and in the past 4 months I got in a Fender bender(10MHP and the Guy is claiming bodily injuruy awell.) and In November I got a speeding ticket. But I am unable to attend traffic school cause I fought the ticket. I'm 19 My moms the main insurer on the car and its a sports car. Any idea how much will my insurance will go up? Any Ideas? I might have to sell my car if its too much. I have insurance through Geico.

Question about sr22 insurance?

Ok I got into an accident back in 2003 and my license was suspended because of it I filled a sr22 with my insurance company and got my license reinstated but now their trying to suspended my license again can they do that?

Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

""New Car, Driver's Test, Proof of Insurance?""

My Dad bought me a car about three days ago and the dealership said they will insure the car for 14 days while my dad gets insurance through his company. I might take my driver's test tomorrow and I want to use this car for it. If I show the dmv the insurance papers the dealership gave me, will that count as proof of insurance for my road test? Thank you.""

Affordable eye insurance (college student)?

I'm currently an undergrad student and I wear glasses which broke a few days ago .. I don't have insurance as of right now so I'm looking for some . I just need something basic that will cover the costs of eye glass exam and contact eye exam , contact lens , eye glass lens and the frame . Something that isn't too expensive but not too cheap where the insurance isn't good .. Like some that are cheap require you to pay for our exams out of pocket and then wait to be reimbursed . I can't have that . I need something where I can pay at a set rate and not have to worry about having to pay hundreds of $$$ and wait to get it back .""

Car Insurance?

Is it possible for two brothers to be under the Named (or Names) Insured list on a car insurance statement or any paper relating to car insurance. Can two brothers be insured together?

Why are my wife's health insurance rates going up?

2 days after Obama signed the new health care law, my wife received and email from her health insurance company. Her monthly rates, and her deductible will be going up. Ah.. wait a minute... isn't the new health care law supposed to make health insurance more affordable????""

Is this a good insurance cost for a teenager for a GTO?

I got a quote from geico for an '04 GTO and it was 175 a month for a 17 year old driver. This suprised me, because I thought it would be alot higher. So do you think this an accurate quote? I put in all information accurately except for my age because they will not give a 15 year old a quote.""

What are 1995 BMW 325i Insurance rates?

My cousin is giving me her old 1995 BMW 325i, four door, white. I was wondering what the rates would be for Farm Bureau Insurance in NC.""

Does the Affordable Health Care law really prevent insurance companies from denying pre-existing conditions?

They say that now, insurance companies can no longer deny insurance to people with pre -existing conditions. So what was HIPAA passed in 1996 for? This law states that insurance companies CAN NOT deny people with pre -existing conditions. The only change I see is it gets rid of the 12 month exclusion period. I had two aunts with lupus, both lived in California and had insurance, until they moved to Texas. If they could have kept their insurance, they would have, but for some odd reason liberals are against insurance across state lines. They had no problem finding insurance, they just had to be out of pocket for 12 months. HIPAA also states that if you can go six months without any medical visits, advice/procedures, insurance companies are not allowed to look further than that and must not apply the exclusion period. So did the Affordable Care Act really stop insurance companies from denying coverage for pre existing conditions, or was it ALREADY a law? http://www.dol.gov/ebsa/faqs/faq_consumer_hipaa.html""

Will a no turn on red ticket increase my insurance rate?

Got a ticket for no turn on red . To be fair, I saw the sign and ignored it. There was absolutely no traffic and I didn't feel like waiting. Officer set a trap and nab'ed me. I didn't make up a story to him. He gave me a $100 ticket and didn't give me any points on my license. I'm 20, been driving for 3, almost 4, years and have a flawless record. What are the chances my insurance, which is Allstate, will increase. I have no plans on fighting this ticket, will plead guilty and pay the fine.""

Insurance on a 2005 ford focus?

What would the average insurance for progressive be on a auto 2005 red focus with 70k miles. For a 17 year old and a 45 year old. Can I legally put my car in my parents name to lower insurance cost?

Can I get a mortgage with no life insurance?

Can I get a 75K mortgage with no life insurance in the UK? If not, will the mortgage company want to know who the insurance is with? Will they issue a mortgage with NO life insurance at the age of 52?""

Is there a place I can get affordable life insurance?

Is there a place I can get affordable life insurance?

Insurance rate for a 16 year old?

what would the monthly insurance rate be for a 16 year old driving a 2013 camaro ss v8 engine? thanks!!

Got a 150CC scooter for surface roads commute upto 20 miles/day. How much does it cost to get it on CA roads?

Classes + license exp + Registration + Insurance + locks (?) + Helmet + Hand Grip = ? a. How much is the rough running cost? (are these high maintenance?) b. Is it safe in an ungated community with chain lock? Should I move it inside my apt? And yes, primary transportation. Thanks for reading.""

What are some good health insurance companies in CA for self employed people?

We mainly are looking at it for medical needs. Dental would be nice, but its not necessary. And vision isn't necessary at all.""

Is there any cheap health insurance that have good coverage in california ?

Is there any cheap health insurance that have good coverage in california ?

What is the average car insurance cost in Arizona?

I'm moving there very soon and before I get quotes from a million different companies I would like to hear from every day people. Any one who can help has my thanks.

Health insurance question?

how is it that someone without insurance, and cant pay the medical bills not pay anything, and get the same healthcare..as a person with insurance...........???????anyone? why dont we just get rid of insurance?""

What are my best options for self-employed health insurance with maternity in Illinois?

I am leaving a well paid corporate job with great benefits to work for myself. I was recently married and my wife wants to have children soon. She does not have benefits through her job so I need to ensure we are covered well. What are some great options for affordable health coverage in Illinois that includes maternity and what's the time frame before maternity coverage kicks in?

Need to get proof of no claims car insurance from years ago?

I have been out of the country for some time, prior to this I had a few years no claims on my car insurance, can I get prrof of this somehow now I am back to help reduce my insurance costs?""

Any suggestions on best Health Insurance for a diabetic?

My son is in his late twenties, without health insurance and was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, requiring him to take insulin daily. We are trying to help him with this financially, and bills are enormous. Any ideas on what might be the best health insurance plan for him? Thanks in advance for any suggestions.""

How much will my insurance be?

If I am a 16 year old male, and I want to get a 1992 Mercedes-Benz 190E 2.6.... About how much should insurance cost?""

How much does it cost to replace the windshield on a 2003 Chevy Tracker?

I think my windshield need to be replaced, a small crack is spreading, I think its 20 in now, is it repairable or do I have to replace it? how much does it cost to replace it. If I do it through my insurance, will this change my premium? Thank you (I'm broke, if any one know a cheap place in Austin,TX to replace it, I would really appreciate it)""

Why do we need car insurance?

what is car insurance? How does it help us? How much money do we need to pay?

""I want to buy car insurance, what is the cheapest one to buy?""

My progressive insurance just expired, and it is really expensive. I want the lowest state minimum insurance available. The state is Michigan.""

AAA car insurance wont return my phone calls?

i was in a car accident on the fourth of july and the guy ran a red. he hit my car and totaled it leaving me injured and now out of work for almost a month. the police report was sent to both insurances (mine & his) saying he is at fault. i and my insurance (state farm) have tried calling his AAA agent several times and they still have not called back. i have also called the supervisor with no returned phone call from her as well. ive asked my insurance and they basically told me to wait for them to call. im getting impatient and i was just wondering if anybody else has ever had this problem? im frustrated and not sure what to do.

Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

Pleasant Hill Illinois Cheap car insurance quotes zip 62366

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/tip-cheap-car-insurance-18-year-olds-uk-dennis-medina/"

[vitalmindandbody]

The nature of darkness that still hits within our 24 -hour cities

With technology man has subdued the night. Yet walk wall street alone at 3am, and still the sorcery and whodunit ooze through

On some darkness, in the insomniac interludes between rumbling goods trains, and beneath the resonate of ambulance sirens, I can listen owls announcing mournfully to one another from the trees that screen the rail ways leading past the back of the house in which I live in inner London. On most nights, alongside the wails of parties crusading or having copulation, I hear cats and foxes calling sporadically, as if they are being tortured. On some mornings, when a thin illuminate firstly leaks through my blinds, I can hear a cockerel squawking from a garden-variety in which chickens are stopped got a couple of streets away. Rarely, when the mornings are resonantly still, the insistent tap of a woodpecker chiselling at a tree trunk wakes me.

The city at night is far eerier, much more feral than it is in the day. It is far harder to anthropomorphise, far more difficult to domesticate. In knowledge, the city doesnt necessarily sound and feel like a metropolis, a centre of advanced civilisation, when most of its population is tight asleep. It can announce and experience closer to sort than culture. As Virginia Woolf once point out here that with a noticeable gumption of frisson, we are no longer fairly ourselves after dark. She relished the irresponsibility which darkness and lamplight give. Our cities, like ourselves, can seem immigrant and unfamiliar at night. And if you listen to them attentively, as though through an echo sounder, you can discover the encompassing darkness give from its penetrations the noises and pulsations of the capital city pre-modern past.

The sounds I sometimes hear from my bedroom, for example, are identifiably offsprings of those that the author and printer William Baldwin enumerated in his eccentric parody Beware the Cat ( 1553 ), one of the most suggestive registers we have of London in the 16 th century. At one point, Baldwins protagonist, Gregory Streamer, absorbs a narcotic drugs and lies in his assembly at Aldersgate listening with preternatural sounding to the commixed rackets of the nocturnal city. These include the barking of hounds, grunting of hogs, screeching of cats, rumbling of rats; the ringing of buzzers, counting of silvers, attaching of groins, muttering of lovers; also the rub of owl, fluttering of fowls, routing of knaves, snorting of slaves. He might have added the tap of cobblers and the shovelling and scratching of nightmen, universally known as Tom-Turd-Men, who were employed to clean the citys streets and privies after dark.

The night-time brooks our cities pasts. It channels their historical connections and discontinuities with a clarity and vitality that our everyday lives, who the hell is determined by an nearly uninterrupted purposefulness, incessantly obscure. It wishes to point out that we once shared these cities with innumerable animals, some of them tame, some of them not; and that to a certain extent we still do. It reminds us that, although we think up the 24 -hour city as a comparatively recent phenomenon if in the UK it is a phenomenon at all cities have always been hives of labour and leisure after nightfall. Baldwin, in his remarkable onomatopoeic prose lyric, refers to the audible nocturnal acts of , among other things, grouting and rotating, broiling and brewing. It reminds us, more, that we were once terrible of the nighttime, and of the people who colonize it, whether these premise the form of potential felons or the police; and that, to a striking magnitude, specially if we come from socially marginalised radicals, we still are.

However efficiently artificial light overpowers discrepancies between night and day, the poet and critic Al Alvarez wrote, it never utterly eliminates the primitive suspicion that night people are up to no good. Over the past four or five centuries, a series of social and technological changes have reshaped the city at night, progressively colonising it. The foreword of petroleum brightnes, gaslight and electric light has, for example, successively reshaped it according to the needs of a diurnal government. And the increase of working hours has reshaped it according to the needs of a daytime economy. But these changes havent altogether dispelled its pre-modern past. Metropolitans nourish a soul of darkness that even the processes of industrialisation and electrification, the introduction of all-night plants and shops, all-night buses and improves, have failed fully to conquer.

Gaslight countenances high-jinks, circa 1820. Illustration: SSPL via Getty Images

In 1788, at the high levels of the Enlightenment, the Daily Universal Register triumphantly reported that not a single building in all London is perhaps now to be heard of which digests the repute of being an recurred room. Scientific rationalism, it was optimistically expected, had rinsed the citys darker, more strange places with the cold, shining lighting of reason, just as it had driven magical back to the dark ages. But, in the 21 st century as in previous ones, London abides, like all cities, a storehouse of outmoded, if not primal, anxieties and anxieties at night. Anyone who has strolled through its empty streets alone at 3am, sensitive to the slightest flicker of crusade in the darkness, knows this( not, of course, that these panics and nervousness are inevitably absurd, specially if you happen to be a woman ).

Intellectual enlightenment and the practical illumination of the street, both organizations that sought to eradicate residues of the medieval past, were closely complicit developments in the cities of early modern Europe. Arranged public street lighting had been in place in center regions of the British uppercase for a century by the time the newspaper report Ive mentioned complacently declared that its builds were finally free of ghosts. Paris, operating under the initiative of Louis XIVs council for the reform of the policing of the city, led the policy in 1667. Other European municipalities, conscious of it was necessary to pre-empt inessential violations and prevent political plots, are still in speedy sequence: Amsterdam in 1669, Turin in 1675, Berlin in 1682, and London in 1684.

Replacing the lantern candles that private householders had formerly been required to erect outside their front doors, most European civic permissions deployed petroleum torches, maintained at public overhead, to light-footed the streets on moonless darkness. The accomplish, according to peers, was almost overwhelming. The first report on the New Lights of the British metropolis, are presented in 1690 , was reported in euphoric manners that they rendered such a mutual thought, that they all seem to be but one enormous Solar-Light.

Public igniting had a decisive impact on Europes prime thoroughfares, transforming them into the locations where, at the least when the weather was clement, people could promenade and browse after dark. The German novelist Sophie von La Roche, enraptured by Londons culture of intake, employed a word of 1786 to describe the double sequences of brightly glinting lamps that enabled pedestrians and people in tutors to gaze at Oxford Streets splendidly ignited browse fronts.

In some quite literal feel, the city at night in the late 17 th and 18 th centuries was ostentatious. As the rise of Londons coffee houses and pleasure plots indicated, nightlife became a distinct social phenomenon from this time. It was increasingly fashionable to stay up dancing, booze, gambling and soliciting prostitutes all nighttime and then remain in berthed in all areas of the next day. This was in part because it dramatised an aristocratic repudiation of the protestant ethic and the spirit of capitalism. In populous, upwardly mobile civilizations like those pioneered in London and Paris, where separations of grade could all too easily be obliterated in the press of forms on wall street, the right to prowl freely at night was a privilege. And at first light, when revellers flounder home elapsed labourers walking to make, it was once again unambiguously clear to which social class these souls belonged.

A soul stops to talk to a polouse in the rain on the Thames embankment, 1929. Photograph: Fox Photos/ Getty Images

But if street lighting gentrified and glamorised the commercial and political centres of Europes cities in this period, it relegated other regions to no-go expanses. The French dramatist Louis-Sbastien Mercier showed succor in 1780 that millions of petroleum reflectors has only replaced torches in the French uppercase. But, as well as asserting that this excellent innovation had been marred by misdirected economy, he pointedly have also pointed out that, outside the shallow consortia of fascinating sunlight that the oil lamps emitted, the street had been thrown into a gloomines that seemed deeper and more impenetrable than ever. Certainly, in the poorer areas of Europes municipalities, the new technology shaped little change to publics daily life. At darknes, the serpentine streets, suffocating courts and labyrinthine slums of the city were quite as obscure and noxious as they had been in the middle ages.

The introduction of gaslight in the early 19 th century had much the same effect, transforming the areas frequented by the upper and middle classes but leaving those inhabited by the poor pretty much untouched. Even so, alongside the professionalisation of Europes police forces, it revolutionised municipalities at night. In 1807, as part of an energetic safarus to draw London the first metropolis to be mainly lit at night by gas, the expat German entrepreneur Frederick Winsor mounted an exhibition of its benefits in Pall Mall. The Monthly Magazine praised the success of this experiment and the beautifully lily-white and bright lighting it raised. By 1823 more than 200 miles of streets in London were lit by virtually 40,000 lamps. Light had been industrialised.

Not everyone was happy about this development. Like other Romantic, John Keats complained that the insinuate forms of radiance associated with candles and oil lamps, which illuminated small areas with an uneven, gently flickering kindle, and which therefore made a kind of introspective halo, were being delivered to the past. An impersonal artificial flare, especially in the regions where the retail merchants let loose the gas, was progressively opposing all the powers of darkness. Keats deplored the fact that the citys authorities and commercial-grade stakes were exiling nighttimes magic, its mystery and its majesty, from the city. And his far-famed Ode to a Nightingale( 1819 ), which celebrates the embalmed darkness, was a carefully staged attempt to summon it back.

The illuminating effects of gaslight were much more uniform than those of oil, but electric lighting, which emerged in the 1880 s, filled rather than plainly pooled the street in which it was installed with an intensive, apparently white light-footed. Caricatures and depicts from the period proudly depict people holding about on pavements speaking newspapers beneath etiolated electric lamps. Electric street lighting grew the ultimate badge of metropolitan modernity, and European municipalities played with each other to be the pre-eminent City of Light. In the end, New York engulf all of them, including Paris. Meanwhile, cities that retained their medieval terrain, and “thats been” slow to acquaint the new technology, were delivered to the past. In an essay titled Against Past-Loving Venice( 1910 ), the Italian Futurist FT Marinetti thundered: Tell the predominate of holy Electric Light eventually come, to liberate Venice from its venal moonshine

Harrods in London, filled with lamp in 1935. Photo: Fox Photos/ Getty Images

But, in spite of the unvarying glare of electrical street lights at the commercial, industrial and residential cores, even the 20 th centurys most futuristic metropolis were shaped by socially peripheral, predominantly working-class areas that remained plunged in darkness at night. The German astronomer Bruno H Brgel, withdrawing in 1930 the pride with which his father, who came from the days of lighting by oil-lamp, led him through Berlins wealth of daylight, drily discovered: A step into the side streets, and you find put back by centuries. It was not merely the absence of light-headed, but the presence of the poor at night, and above all the homeless, that constituted these localities seem like remainders of the pre-Enlightenment, pre-capitalist past. The houseless, as they used to be called, had been an endemic spirit in Europes municipalities after dark since the middle ages, when males and denizens of the street were criminalised as common nightwalkers.

The 20 th-century city nonetheless staged the progressive colonisation of the darknes by the day, darkness by light-headed. Rails, cinemas, teams, music halls, theaters and amusement parks catered ever more energetically to people appetite for holiday after hours. Surely, the phrase after hours seemed more and more futile, as mills, infirmaries, agencies and supermarkets thrummed in all areas of the nighttime. Even in what had for centuries been called the dead darknes, roughly between 2am and 4am, the centres of major metropolitan municipalities plazas like Piccadilly Circus and Times Square pulsated with parties. Electric light, Thomas Edison had insisted, represents nighttime life, and nighttime life entails progress.

In the early 1940 s, when the British uppercase was regularly immersed into darkness during the blitz, Edisons formula seemed all the more irrefutable. For at that time, conversely, the is a lack of electric light plunged London, and other European municipalities, into a government of cruelty. It was perhaps in part because of this painful suffer that the postwar generation redoubled its commitment to extracting the value of both labour and leisure from the night. The text clubbing was first are applied to aim going to nightclubs in the mid-1 960 s, when the children of the individuals who been adults through the second largest world war set about overcoming this inheritance and reclaiming the night.

Since then, as the artwork historian Jonathan Crary recently wrote in his fine polemic 24/7: Late Capitalism and the Ends of Sleep , the capitalist system has fostered the rise of national societies in which a commonwealth of permanent radiance is inseparable from the non-stop procedure of world exchange and brightnes. In the late 1990 s, to pass a stunning pattern, a Russian-European room consortium developed intentions to use satellites with parabolic reflector to decorate remote regions of Earth with sunlight and so enable work to be performed all over the clock. Predicting sunrise all night long, it also proposed that entire metropolitan areas are likely to be illuminated after dark along these lines, making electric light itself anachronistic. Dreams of the elimination of the night can no longer be dismissed as science fiction.

In the 21 st century, electric lighting in advanced capitalist countries if not in innumerable developing nations is a uniform and universal feature of metropolitans at night. So is commuting, patronize, working and another activity that for much of the past seemed unimaginable taking place after dark. But in practice, as has been the case for millennia, some people have freer and fuller access to the city at night than others. Lone maidens may feel be exempted from it, for example, if exclusively because at certain times and in certain places they are made to feel unacceptably vulnerable. Black and Asian mortals, for their role, are far more likely to be criminalised in west metropolis than white-hot beings at night.

The 24-hour tubing, “its probably” safe to prophesy, will not fundamentally vary the facts of the case that for numerous people, if not for the citys person of cats and feral foxes, London remains, like other British metropolitans, at least partially off limits at night. We have a night-time economy; the work requires a night-time politics.

Matthew Beaumont is the author of Nightwalking: a Nocturnal History of London, 9.99, Verso. Click here to buy it for 8.19

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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