#like an hour has caused a great catastrophe

[kurosaaki]

what is happening in Valencia (Spain)?

More than 200 people have died and 2000 people are missing since the catastrophe that happened in Valencia, Spain, a couple days ago.

Valencia is one of the most popular and beautiful regions in Spain, often visited by lots of international — and national — tourists to have a great time in the summer.

Meteorologists said a year’s worth of rain had fallen in just eight hours in parts of Valencia — specially, in small towns — this Tuesday. In Spain, this phenomenon is called “Dana”, which is basically a “cold drop”, which causes saturated air to rise rapidly, leading to heavy rain, thunderstorms and tornadoes to happen.

For reference to americans: hurricane milton caused 27 dead, these massive storms in valencia caused more than 90 deaths in a region that is much, much smaller... the weather services warned about the danger, and political authorities still did nothing to send people home from their jobs. the civil alarms reached our phones at 8pm, when many were already trapped in cars, basements, malls, factories. the loss, especially human loss, is incalculable (from: @/woundposting on tumblr)

People who worked overnight for big companies were not even able to go back to their homes and ensure their safety — some of them, lots of them, even lost their lives in that same night. It has been three days now and there are still more reports of disappearances and deaths, and the government is NOT acting like they should. This is a tragedy, which could have been avoided if they only did one thing right, and no one is taking responsability — not the government, not the big companies who didn’t let their workers go home, no one.

It is always the working class people who help the working class people.

Since this is a situation that has took the whole country by surprise and horror, I will put more info under the cut if you want to know more, and if you want to donate to some gofundme’s.

Horta Sud is a county in Valencia that has been the most affected by the floodings. People are leaving their houses because they're scared of the infrastructure getting damaged and even walking by foot to Valencia capital to get food.

Letur (Albacete) is a town that has been destroyed by the floods. You can help rebuild it by donating to this gofundme that's directly coordinated with the town hall.

Hambre Cero is a Spanish food bank non-profit that was founded after the earthquakes in Indonesia. They're currently active in Palestine and Lebanon but they'll also be giving food to those who need it in Spain.

El Refugio de María a dog shelter in Sueca (Valencia), is completely flooded, leaving the dogs visibly distressed and without a proper place to sleep. You can donate to their PayPal: maria.g.may@gmail.com

Protectora San Antón is a shelter for cats and dogs in Jerez de la Frontera. It's flooded and the animals don't have a comfortable place to sleep in. If you live in Spain you can bizum them @ 635011715. If not, PayPal protectorasananton@hotmail.com

Help Sara and her family rebuild their home in Valencia:

there are many more links in twitter. the ones i have put here in this are from a thread posted by @ diangneylo. you can find the link to the thread here, with many more links: https://x.com/diangneylo/status/1851960706536534104?s=46&t=xf1Z6STThFP3w_mF4ugamA

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 20

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: y/n & draco, character death, violence, general heavy themes, fluff, y/n & hermione are endgame , events follow canon (in theory)

Note: here it is.. the final chapter ! (technically it's not over yet since we still have the epilogue, which i will try my best to get out within the next week, fingers crossed)

i also want to thank you guys so much for being here. whether you just found this fic recently or you've been here since the beginning, i hope you know i appreciate your support so much. it's the reason we even got to this point! i'm truly going to miss writing this story, more than you know. especially considering it has been apart of my life for over a year now, which is crazy! but anyway, love you guys, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character @brocoliisscared @aki-ham @theheartwants-what-itwants

Hours since the Dark Lord and his followers had officially retreated. 

The sun was now steadily taking its position in the sky, illuminating the mortal world. Heedlessly enforcing the illusion that tragedy no longer looms over Hogwarts and all wizard-kind. 

That is, of course, as further as one could possibly get from the truth.

The atmosphere amidst the Great Hall unfailingly reminds everyone of a suffocating reality. It is thick with grief. Cold, dark and devoid of life– much like the dead that lay within it.

Hermione has yet to leave your side since you found a space to sit amongst the rubble. She continues to cling to you like a lifeline. Harry has been gone for hours, and Hermione, with a bit of coaxing, has finally stopped crying.

Ginny however remained hysterical– till her father was forced to subdue her with a Laxo charm. Still its effects wear off too quickly, and Ginny is far too vulnerable to justify repeated use. So her parents have settled with putting her to sleep instead.

She rests her head on Ron’s shoulder, blind and deaf to the destruction around her, even if only for a short while.

“Are you alright?” A foolish question, but Hermione, ever sweet and gentle, doesn't berate you for it. She nods, wordlessly slipping her arm around you before nestling her face into the crook of your neck. 

Hermione desperately seeks an escape through you and there is nothing more you wish to do than to give her just that. You want to be her helm in a sea of catastrophe, as much as she is yours.

Nothing matters anymore, only her. 

As you slip a comforting arm around your girlfriend, you take a scan of the hall, quickly regretting your decision to do so as you divert your eyes away from the row of corpses laid across the floor. 

It is then you spot a familiar face that causes your stomach twists even more, you are overcome with the sudden urge to wretch.

Draco appears just as pale and miserable as he approaches you. Gingerly taking a seat, cautious not to interrupt your embrace with Hermione. For what feels like an eternity, neither of you speak.

“I thought you left the castle with the rest of them.” You find yourself muttering, surprising Draco and especially yourself.

Hermione lifts her head, once she realizes you were not speaking to her. 

She takes notice of the platinum haired man next to you, and you feel her tense within your hold. Hermione’s expression visibly hardens, and you recognize that it would be smart to continue putting yourself in between her and Draco for the time being. 

“No, I– I couldn’t. My parents.. they were looking for me, but I– I hid.” Your best friend remarks, he is unable to keep eye contact with you. 

Guilt is ever corrosive, and it was consuming him alive. You see it in the very way Draco carries himself– so far removed from the person he once was.

Much like yourself.

It seems as though Draco is entirely expecting you to push some blame onto him. As if the destruction here today was caused solely by him. Though things are hardly as simple as that– besides, there is little reward in kicking a man when he is already down.

“At least you refused them. I know it isn’t easy.” You state. A feeble attempt to uplift him.

“Doing the right thing rarely ever is.” Hermione chimes in, as she puts her head on your shoulder once more. Her demeanor has softened, and in any regular instance, this might even fill you with joy.

“Does it even matter now? It’s too late.” Draco wallows, and a part of you wants to contend his statement, but that would also mean lying to him.

“And my mother and father– I’ve disappointed them.” He adds and now you let out a humorless chuckle. 

“We have that in common. Mine certainly aren’t going to acknowledge me as their daughter now.” You say, and your best friend almost seems comforted by the notion.

“Mine either.” Hermione quips plainly, her attempt at lighthearted banter only shatters you. 

You turn to place a lingering kiss against her forehead. Hermione accepts it as a faint smile plays on her lips, one reserved only for you.

‘As long as we stay together it'll be fine.’ You remind yourself for the dozenth time.

Draco sighs.

“There was no point to any of this.. it's all gone to shit.” He utters, exasperated, and Hermione nods in agreement.

Another chuckle slips out of you, this time from true amusement. Possibly from exhaustion or simply just a reaction to the ludicrous position you have all found yourselves in. You are sitting in what was once the Great Hall; the safest and warmest place in all of Hogwarts is now reduced to nothing but dust, piles of stone and death. 

You ought to be studying for your end of year exams, yet instead, you have been battling Death Eaters. 

People you considered friends have attempted to harm you more than once, and now it is not even certain if you would survive long enough to see nightfall.

Despite herself, Hermione begins to laugh with you. Draco only scoffs at this, he averts his gaze but you manage to catch the smile threatening to form on his face.

The moment does not last much longer as a noise in the distance abruptly steals your attention. The air in Hogwarts is no longer desolate, it has been awoken once more, and you quickly find out why.

Neville is first to rise off the floor, swiftly walking out into the courtyard. Students and teachers, reluctant but curious, follow suit. 

You leave Draco behind as you move through the crowd, Hermione quickly falls in next to you and Ron settles a few paces behind. 

Your worst fear is realized. 

They have returned, to finish what they started. 

A large army of Death Eaters approaches Hogwarts, the Dark Lord leads them at the front of the brigade. As they get closer, you notice Hagrid towering over the rest, he walks with something large in his arms.

Your face falls in horror once you make out exactly what it was he was carrying. Harry Potter, limp and lifeless. 

Hagrid held him as though he weighed no more than a feather. It is a devastating sight, but you can’t seem to look away. 

You feel the sudden urge to pinch yourself, to force yourself awake.

You are trapped in a grim nightmare, Harry cannot be dead. 

“No.” Ron utters your thoughts out loud.

Hermione is reduced to soft sobs as she turns away in distress, you feel compelled to pull her in for an embrace once more.

“Who is that, Hagrid’s carrying?” Ginny’s voice echoes through the courtyard. She is awake, only to be struck in the face with atrocity.

“Neville, who is that?” She calls, much louder and desperate.

“Harry Potter is dead!” The Dark Lord responds to her question with glee.

“No– no!” Ginny cries, but she is quickly silenced with a wave of Voldermort’s hand, he forces her to the ground.

“Silence! You stupid girl.” He bellows as Arthur frantically helps his daughter back on her feet, dragging her as far from the enemy as possible.

“Harry Potter is dead, from this day forth, you put your faith in me.” Voldermort claims and he is only met with a stunned silence.

"Harry Potter is dead!” The Dark Lord declares again in celebration turning to his followers. He laughs, maniacal and bone chilling. Death eaters soon join in, a roar of erroneous joy.

Blind rage gives Hermione the strength to finally look upon Voldermort, you release her from your grip, but maintain close proximity.

“And now is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us, or die.” Voldermort states, his arms outstretched– a forced gesture of welcome.

Once again, you can all only afford to stare at him in disbelief.

“Draco!” Lucius calls for his son angrily, and you only realize then that you’ve entirely lost sight of your best friend.

The crowd parts slightly, and you finally spot him at the other side of the courtyard, standing amongst Seamus, George and Dean.

“Draco.” Narcissa coaxes her son in a far gentler manner, but the distress and worry within her gaze is plain for you to see.

Draco stares at his parents for a prolonged moment and then turns to look towards you. Your breath hitches in your throat, the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he means to share the burden with you.

You manage to shake your head at him, signifying disapproval, but it seems he was not looking for advice, it was merely a look of remorse. He was just apologizing for something he was about to do.

Your shoulders slump in disappointment when Draco tears his gaze away from your own, he limps towards his parents, slowly, as if in a trance. 

“Well done, Draco, well done.” The Dark Lord embraces him stiffly for all to see, your jaw tightens when his stare lands on you.

Any fear you felt in that moment has been overshadowed by plain hot resentment.

“Y/n!” Your own father calls for you the same way, you can still feel the weight of everyone’s stare upon you as you refuse to budge.

“Y/n, come here, now.” Your mother warns, but it does nothing to convince you, if anything it has the opposite effect.

You feel Hermione’s hand slip into your own, motivating a streak of confidence.

“I am fine right where I am, mother.” You remark plainly, and you catch the way Voldermort clenches his pale gray hand into a fist for an instant before composing himself.

“Well, I must admit, y/n, I am very disappointed in you. I have no doubt your parents feel the same.” He states, and it works to gain a rise out of you.

However before you can retaliate with something reckless, Voldermort raises his wand to point it at you. “Crucio.”

The next thing you recall is the ground coming up to meet you, and trying to break your fall. A blinding pain that travels from your arm to the rest of your body.

Hermione is crouched over you as you continue to seize on the ground in sheer agony. 

“Stop it! Please, stop!” Your girlfriend's pleas fall on deaf ears.

You faintly hear Voldermort’s mocking laughter amidst your own gripes of pain. Certain you are about to faint, you clench your eyes tightly, but then, it all stops. 

Air violently floods your lungs, you feel the ground again, this time you recognize that you are laying firmly on top of it. You feel Hermione’s desperate hands clutching your body.

The Dark Lord looks upon horrified faces– he is using you as a warning. “I will say it again. Join us, else you will suffer a worse fate that y/n. So I invite you to step forward now.”

Hermione begins to help you back on your feet, but not before kissing your temple. She smoothes out your disheveled hair, a frantic effort to soothe you, or perhaps herself.

“Please tell me you're alright.” She pleads, an anguished whisper. You ignore the sharp pain still pulsating throughout your body to give Hermione some peace of mind.

“I am, I'll be fine.” You reply, taking her arm to resume your place.

Neville slips past you then, this sudden gesture is followed by a wave of gasps. 

You observed as he limped through the crowd and towards Voldermort, your brows furrowed in confusion.

Not Neville. Not him of all people. 

“I must say, I hoped for better.” Voldermort hurls the jibe, brusque and overconfident. The roar of laughter that comes from his followers only causes your scowl to deepen, it is a jarring noise, deeply unsettling.

“And who might you be, young man?” The Dark Lord asks, feigned geniality.

“Neville Longbottom.” Neville admits only for the laughter to come again. 

You shift your weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Hermione mistakes it for a sign you may collapse again so she moves closer, allowing you to lean on her; this only makes you want to weep. 

This isn't right. It was never supposed to happen like this.

“Well, Neville I am sure we can find you a place in our ranks–”

“–I'd like to say something!” Neville's voice bullies over Voldermort’s.

From the looks of it, this would nearly cost him his life, as Voldermort lifts his wand, almost like a reflex but he lowers it just as quickly.

With an air of composure, he responds, but his pretense is waning.

“Well, Neville, I am sure we are all fascinated to hear what you have to say.” Voldermort’s smile only makes him appear even more displeasing to the eye.

“It doesn't matter that Harry's gone.” Neville announces, and you instinctively look to the man in Hagrid’s arms.

This can't be the end.

Only half a heartbeat until you avert your gaze again.

“Stand down, Neville!” Seamus possesses enough gumption to warn his friend, but Neville brushes him off.

“People die everyday!” He insists.

“Friends, family..” Neville trails off.

Again, you feel compelled to keep Hermione close as you notice the way she has been pursing her lips to fight back more tears.

Ron can't seem to pull his eyes away from Hagrid, and his dead best friend.

“Yeah, we lost Harry tonight, but he's still with us, in here.” Neville continues, gesturing loosely to his chest, just above where his heart is.“So is Fred, Remus, and Tonks, all of them.”

“They didn't die in vain!” Neville shouts with a newfound confidence.

“But you will, because you're wrong!”

He challenges the Dark Lord, bold and open, and it makes you wince.

“Harry's heart did beat for us, for all of us!” He continues.

“So it's not over!” Neville exclaims, and the old hat he had been holding droops to the floor. Within it is revealed an unmistakable relic: the sword of Gryffindor.

He unsheathes the steel for all to see.

Then just as suddenly, the unthinkable happens. 

Harry slips out of Hagrid's hold, his body collapses to the ground, but he is not dead, he braces his hands on the ground before rising.

Harry Potter, alive.

“Merlin's beard..” You gape, and Hermione grasps your shoulder, then she laughs, shock and pure relief.

Harry sprints past the Dark Lord, quick, like a cat. He attempts to fish out Draco’s wand from his pocket but it slides past his fingers.

Harry isn't given the opportunity to retrieve it as he is forced to dodge the mania of curses being hurled his way. 

There is only chaos in the courtyard now as Death Eaters begin to disapparate by the dozen, abandoning their leader. 

Everyone else, desperately seeking shelter, out of the courtyard, back into the castle or elsewhere, anywhere away from harm. 

“Come on, we have to go.” Hermione drags you with her, but you turn back for a moment to watch as Draco bravely pushes past the chaos, picking up his wand, unbelievably, he tosses it back to Harry. 

“Potter!” Your best friend shouts just before you lose sight of him in the crowd. Although Harry catches the wand just in time.

“Confringo!” The Chosen One exclaims, Nagini writhes violently as the curse injures her.

The snake. You have to kill the snake.

Harry shares the sentiment as you get to the castle's doors, he falls in next to you, Ron and Hermione. “We need to kill the snake, I'll lure him into the castle.”

You merely nod in response, Harry continues to deflect the curses being hurled at the four of you.

“You'll need this.” Hermione says, retrieving the Basilisk fang from her bag.

The Dark Lord is rapidly inching closer now, fury has become him– yet he has never seemed so meek, utterly powerless.

He is losing, if he has not lost already.

Nagini is all he has left.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You anticipate it, but Hermione shoves you out of the way just in time as a mass of rubble comes crashing down from above.

You stumble, before coughing out a lung full of dust, squinting as it obstructs your vision. Hermione’s grip on your arm is the only thing tethering you to the present.

Harry bumps into you, just as disoriented. He has lost sight of Ron and worst of all, he can't see Voldermort. 

Another large crash causes you all to flinch, it didn't take long at all for the Dark Lord to find you once again.

Harry throws another curse, powerful enough that he loses his balance, the Basilisk fang unluckily slips out of his pocket, bouncing off the stairs and to the flat ground in front of you.

You reach for it, but before you can retrieve the object, the tooth disintegrates right before your eyes. 

“What–” You aren't given the chance to despair as Harry reminds you of an alternative.

“I’ll keep distracting him. Find Neville, he has the sword. Kill that snake.” He states, the sound of curses violently clashing masks his words, the Dark Lord remains oblivious to your plan, for now.

 “Let's try the Great Hall.” Hermione suggests.

“If we can even get there.” You quip, actively trying to work out a way through the rubble.

You follow after Hermione, and soon, Harry disappears through the thick wall of smoke and dust, purposefully luring Voldermort towards the Astronomy Tower.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Here, this way.” Hermione says as she steps through an opening and further down a flight of stairs.

Just when you both think you are out of danger, a noise stops you dead in your tracks.

You spot the large snake coiling around the bannister before slithering across a pile of bricks towards you.

Its hiss sends a shiver down your spine as you reach for your wand.

Hermione on the other hand, acts on pure instinct. Grabbing a piece of stone, she aims it at the snake.

It successfully clips Nagini on the side of her head, but this only succeeds in agitating the beast.

“Oh.” Hermione utters as the snake recoils, ready to attack.

You both lift your wands in preparation but the snake is hit again, this time by a larger curse that disorients it.

“Go on, I'm right behind you.” Ron emerges, 

pushing the both of you to continue on your search for the sword.

You only manage to get to the bottom of the stairs before Ron can be heard groaning in pain.

The snake had managed to trap him in its grasp, it was coiled around his body, an unsettling sight as it attempted to strangle the life out of him.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaims, chasing back up the stairs without a moment's thought.

“Stupefy!” She exclaimed, and the snake loosens its grip on Ron just enough for him to wretch free.

Hermione drags him to his feet and you can only watch in horror as the snake attempts to come at the both of them now.

“Incendio!” She tries again but the fire fizzles out as soon as it touches the beast, as if the snake was made of ice.

It is your turn to sprint up the stairs but the snake whips its head around, baring its fangs at you as warning. You halt abruptly, forced to keep a distance, grasping your wand tightly. 

Hermione shares a pleading look.

It is useless. There are three of you against Nagini, and yet you were helpless without the sword.

This is not going to work. The snake won't die. Distracting it will only mean seriously harming or even killing one of you.

Your mind reels, you frantically scan your surroundings, looking for a solution. 

Then, you are graced with a miracle. Neville appears behind you, barrelling up the stairs, panting, his face caked in dirt and dried blood. He has the sword of Gryffindor in hand.

Hermione let's out another scream that snatches your attention, the snake has attempted to come at them again, and again, Ron has now resulted in shielding your girlfriend with his own body.

You have to kill it now.

As you take another step, Nagini shifts her point of attack, now preparing to lunge towards you.

“Y/n– here!” With only seconds to spare, Neville tosses the steel in your direction. You quickly drop your wand before you manage to catch the sword by the hilt, still unaccustomed to its weight, you grasp it with two hands.

Just like handling a beater's bat, you swing it, firm and hard, slicing the beast across its body mid-air.

There is no blood, instead the snake explodes into a rain of thin black ash, it is unlike anything you have ever seen before. It is all you can look at as you let the point of the sword fall by your feet.

For a while all you can hear is the clang of metal hitting the ground and a faint ringing in your ears, muffled by the sound of your own heavy breathing. 

Neville's touch on your shoulder snaps you out of a trance. “It's over, it's done.” 

Enough sense returns to you as you shift your gaze towards Hermione. Her expression mirrors your own.

The four of you are miraculously alive, and the snake is dead.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

In the aftermath, it did not take much convincing for you to agree to join Hermione, Harry and Ron for a walk along the bridge.

Thankful for fresh air, the afternoon sun was also a welcomed feeling upon your skin, for the first time in days, it felt like you could breathe.

As Hermione struts ahead, you manage to grab ahold of her arm, forcibly tugging her closer to your own body. 

She then lets out a noise in surprise once you capture her lips with your own, but she melts into the kiss just as quickly, your hand slips to the small of her back as she opens her mouth wider to welcome your tongue.

You continue like that without care for a while, until Ron deliberately interrupts your moment by verbalizing his thoughts.

“Bloody hell, give it a rest, you two.” He remarks, but his tone lacks its usual malice as he clears a path by kicking away pieces of rubble. 

You grimace as you feel Hermione pull away from embarrassment.

“Fuck off, Weasley.” You retaliate, and for reasons unbeknownst to you, the sound of Ron's laughter makes you smile.

You part Hermione’s hair away from her neck, tilting your head slightly to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses along her neck.

She smells like sweat– but, in truth, it has never been an unpleasant scent to you. Nothing about Hermione was ever unpleasant.

Even now, sleep deprived and unwashed, she was perfect.

You notice the way Hermione trembles at the sensation of your warm mouth upon her flesh.

It only works to entice you further, but before you can kiss her again, Hermione displays some semblance of self control. 

She braces her hands on your chest, shoving you lightly. “Not here.”

With a pout you meet her gaze and she only rolls her eyes at that, before rewarding you with a quick peck on the lips. 

“We both could use a bath later.” Hermione mutters suggestively, running her fingers through your hair.

A smirk tugs on your lips at that, but before you can retort with something clever, Hermione's gaze shifts to Harry.

The Chosen One stood at the edge of the bridge, where there was once a bannister, now just a stump of concrete and marble.

Harry is observing the wand in his hand as Hermione addresses him. “How come it didn't work for him, The Elder Wand?”

“It answered to somebody else.” Harry replies, turning to look at the three of you.

“When he killed Snape, he thought the wand would become his. but the thing is, the wand never belonged to Snape.”

“It was Draco, who disarmed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, from that moment on, the wand answered him.” Harry explains, looking down to inspect it once more.

“Until, the other night, when I disarmed Draco at Malfoy Manor.” He continues and your eyes widen at the realization.

“So that means–” You gape, and Hermione turns to you in disbelief.

Harry nods. “It's mine.” He states, nonchalant as ever.

“What should we do with it?” Ron inquires, and Hermione merely grimaces.

“We?” She scolds.

“Ron's right, I mean, that's the Elder Wand. Most powerful in the world, with that, you'd be invisible.” You remark in support, now Hermione directs her scowl towards you, and you shrug innocently.

Although your expression twists once your gaze flits to Harry once again, he grunts as he struggles to break the wood in half.

You advanced forward to intervene, but it was too late. The wand snaps in two, like a twig. 

Harry turns around, chucking pieces of the most powerful wand in existence off the edge of the bridge.

You chase after it as far as your eyes can see before it disappears, forever.

“What the fuck–” Ron mutters under his breath in shared disbelief, yet Hermione only watches the both of you with amusement.

Then she grabs you by the collar, dragging you away from the ledge.

You are forced to follow as she falls in next to Harry, strolling back to the castle. 

Resisting the urge to confront Harry about what he had just done, you drape an arm across Hermione's shoulder, she welcomes it, intertwining your hands as you walked.

“I'm starving.” Ron remarks, trailing behind you. An effort to shift to a different, much simpler topic of conversation. 

“So am I.” Hermione replies.

“Yeah.. reckon The Three Broomsticks are still open?” You joke, and Harry is first to laugh, followed by your girlfriend and eventually, Ron.

You allow yourself a smile, it is one of relief. You relish in a careless joy you once thought you'd never get to experience again.

[ampreh]

[TRF] Norma II

• Related to this : The Rust Factory - Norma (<- comics)

• Related to this : The Rust Factory - Norma (<- comics) I had SO much fun doing the vintage style of flash backs and imagination: I would have kicked myself for ignoring this very impactful style for its time.

Audrey pic: Context - Extract from the 2022 RP "It was the story of a corporate that had made a great scientific revolutionary invention! It was called D-Sire, a simple, medicated, fabulous everyday object that people couldn't live without. But during the process of improving the product, which was intended to target wider markets to make more profit, the D-Sire had unfortunately gone awry, causing a great catastrophe unparalleled among mankind. All cities had been wiped off the map, leaving only willless mutant humans and animals. The heroine had to flee her city, survive and fight her way back to the creator of the D-sire, who had abandoned his company and changed his identity. Coal was terrified of this cheap soap opera with its terrible special effects made of modelling clay and the saturated offbeat sound of the black-and-white picture on the small TV screen." A more than obvious reference to the AU Truffula Flu. And a huge reference to @audtreegrace, @miru667 's character. So of course, I don't have all the context since it's a vast AU with lots and lots of details, but I've got enough of a basis for my friends to recognize and that's good enough for me :> Nathan has already confused Audrey Grace with Audrey, the actress from their series HAHA. Alas, the Audrey and Ted of his world won't be born for several years. He didn't find the actress, but he did find a good friend with whom to talk for hours about anything and everything ♥

Norma Bellini pic: Well, Norma pin-up, because why not! In vintage calendar mode, because I love vintage aesthetics. And yes, those are the right dates I went to check on good old calendars haha. At first I wanted to do it in a swimsuit, but then I preferred the picnic. I love picnics.

Too big to fail pic: I had to do it! Of course I had to! The only time I've redone such an iconic portrait was for the first version of Cashtea-ler in the Let It Flow fanzine, in 2022 (I should do a new one with his new head). Nathan Cole (@1940s-onceler | @nalak-bel 's), in black and white in his best soot-colored suit!

Compilation : Just Normaler, to appreciate Normaler. On a more serious note, I like the idea that Nathan was guided throughout his first times by ladies, and not the reverse. I love this not-so-little whining man.

[satureja13]

Sunrise at Mos Verdantis 🌄 It's the day of the Starfleet tests they'd been preparing for for days now. And the whole night through. Jack and Kiyoshi didn't even bother to enter their tent. They are afraid being just the two of them - this close together - would only lead to trouble again ö.Ö' Somewhen in the early morning hours, Jack fell into a restless sleep. Kiyoshi only wishes it would be easier for Jack to accept what they are feeling for each other, so he doesn't have to blame himself so much for what they did a few hours ago. Kiyoshi already worries enough for both of them. He just hopes Jack will be fit enough to concentrate on the tests.

Vlad and Ji Ho are sitting on their bench, still learning. Ji Ho is quickly scrolling through a book of extraterrestrial lifeforms he hadn't had the chance to read yet. He still has a lot of questions since he had never been overly interested in Science Fiction. Ji Ho pointed at a picture: "So there are birds attacking space ships? ö.Ö' "

Vlad: "That's not a bird. It's a Mynoc. A silicon-based parasite. They were often seen leeching power from spacecraft and could absorb matter from a ship's hull causing it to breach, and if not caught in time, cause catastrophic failure." This Boy still has so much to learn...

Jeb looked at his phone: "It's time to get ready." Sai sighed from the depths of his soul. They can't leave those behind who fail, so they'll all have to succeed. All for one and one for all.

Rubyn already set up their special exam chamber. The Boys think it's awesome - and thoughtful of Rubyn to prepare an enclosed space for them. Like this they won't get distracted! They're already over-revved as it is ö.ö

Rubyn: "May the force be with you!"

Said, closed the chamber and started the Holodeck Exam Simulation... Wild animations flickered on the walls that surrounded them, R-3X blared out cryptic commands and they got attacked by spaghetti and meatballs from above! Saiwa: "What the ... ???" Oh no. That was it for taking the exams in tranquility and silence... Sai shouted: "I don't think this is the original Starfleet exam protocol, Rubyn!" Rubyn, from the peaceful outside: "You're right! That would have been too expensive either. It's my own ^^' But it's generally accepted in this part of the quadrant!"

The poor Boys giving their best under worst conditions! Jack can't believe he signed up for this...

After - a much too short - amount of time, the computers were replaced by the B-64 Training Bots. Fighting and dodging the spaghetti bullets! 🍝

Luckily the Boys had already been trained in the Defense against the Dark Arts Classroom at the Magical School beyond the Veil for this!

Meanwhile, the Little Goats and Kumo started to pack the Boys belongings - and made sure to also add the Romantium ore. For future fun.

It was already noon when the Boys finished their tests and Rubyn gathered them to reveal the final results - and if some of them have failed...

But they all passed! Yey! Well done, Boys!

They are so excited! Their first time in space! But poor Jack was still crestfallen and Kiyoshi felt bad. This is such a great moment for Jack. Not many love space and space ships and all things space as much as Jack does. And Kiyoshi ruined it for him. By not being able - again!- to keep his cool and resist woohooing Jack...

The Boys picked their stuff together and Rubyn took them on board of the Millenium Falcon - to transfer them to Albaleyh's ship. Their home for the next weeks. Or months?

And this is how the Boys left their home planet 🌏 to boldly go where no Boy has gone before 🚀

'When it's love you give. I'll be a man of good faith Then in love you live. I'll make a stand. I won't break I'll be the rock you can build on Be there when you're old. To have and to hold When there's love inside. I swear I'll always be strong Then there's a reason why I'll prove to you we belong I'll be the wall that protects you From the wind and the rain. From the hurt and the pain

When it's love you make. I'll be the fire in your night Then it's love you take. I will defend, I will fight I'll be there when you need me. When honor's at stake This vow I will make

Don't lay our love to rest 'Cause we could stand up to your test We got everything and more than we had planned More than the rivers that run the land We've got it all in our hands Now it's all for one and all for love Let the one you hold be the one you want The one you need 'Cause when it's all for one it's one for all When there's someone that should know Then just let your feelings show When there's someone that you want When there's someone that you need Let's make it all, all for one and all for love'

Bryan Adams, Rod Stewart, Sting - All For Love What a song! Sends shivers down my spine whenever I hear it. OST from 'The Three Musketeers' 1993

Rubyn kept some of the photos she took and put them on the wall in her workshop.

From the Beginning ��� Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[bbcphile]

Today is my one-year anniversary of my neurosurgery!!

I had tethered cord syndrome--basically, where your spinal cord is stuck to the spine, so things like breathing, moving, and general existence tug on your brain, spine, and entire nervous system and can cause pretty bad nerve damage.

By this time last year, it was bad enough that sitting up for longer than 10 minutes made my spine burn like it was on fire, I couldn't do "basic" things like emptying the dishwasher without having to sleep for the rest of the day, I was losing my ability to walk, and my brain fog was too all-encompassing for me to do much but sleep--the idea of writing ANYTHING more than emails to my medical team, especially fiction or meta, was laughable.

I was miserable and also terrified that this surgery--which had the potential to cause other threatening problems--was the only thing that might give me hope for a future that contained more than watching my body and mind break down and die.

My amazing neurosurgeon had warned me that the goal of the surgery was to prevent things from getting worse, but that if I was lucky, I might regain some function, and that many people see dramatic improvements by the one year post-surgery mark, and that these improvements can continue up through the end of the second year post-surgery.

The recovery from the surgery in the hospital was absolute hell, but even then, despite the 10/10 pain, I could tell that my brain wasn't being yanked by the tether like an obnoxious elementary school boy pulling on pigtails anymore.

And things have only gotten better since then.

I can do chores around the apartment again, I can sit and walk more easily, much of the nerve damage in my lower half has healed, and I'm now even able to write for up to 8-10 hours a day again, which was something I didn't think I'd ever get to have back in my life.

And I'm still having improvements, and my neurosurgeon is optimistic they will continue.

I know there will be flares of my other chronic medical things, because that's part of these conditions and of being disabled. So things will always be up and down. But maybe the ups and downs will stay at this newer baseline. Maybe the baseline might even rise some more.

I've traditionally . . . not been great at believing I can have good things. I've had enough catastrophes and devastating realizations come after the best moments of my life that I am very very wary of letting myself truly believe something has worked out.

But, looking at this huge milestone, at the progress I've made, at the 27000 words of my MLC fic I've written with lots more planned, at the life I'm letting myself start to envision again--

--maybe it really will be ok.

And even if it's not, even if I lose all of this tomorrow, maybe it wouldn't be forever.

Maybe, if I came back from hell once, I could do it again.

Let's hope I don't have to find out.

[nokk0]

@kirbyoctournament

Ok... I'm really nervous...

Introducing Fal!

A cute little Cibernetic Assistent pondering why his owner stopped all activity and disappeared with no clue behind... Was there something wrong with him?

He recently arrived on Popstar, and there a lot of things he want to know, a lot he want to see

Who and what is he?

Fal is the last living Cybernetic Waiter. These creatures are AI one of the many artifacts created by the Ancients. These AI were crafted with extensive knowledge of the world they used to guide mankind. The Cibernetic Waiters were known to have different ranks, like how there are different angel ranks. The Waiters also guide the travelers to treasures, and once guided rulers. However, they were disposed of, erased and forgotten, like many creations of this race, now extinct

Fal is a model that was improperly disposed of. This resulted in a catastrophic scenery in which Dark Matter, attracted by his sadness, mutated inside him and used Fal's power as its own. A really similar energy that NOVA'S Heart

Personality

Fal is a very emotional and reclusive person, more jaded on the inside than he appears on the outside. He is a bit childish and shows great enthusiasm and joy in everything he does. Fal is easily excitable and makes a lot of gestures while talking. He's attentive and intuitive, and does his best to make communication between individuals as smooth as possible. However, he is a bit paranoid of his environment, driving him to be mistrustful to people which he interacts

Fal uses his friendly attitude to hide his instability caused by the abandonment of his Owner (although it is obvious that his Owner passed away)

More details

♥ Fal suffers from Hafefobia: Fear of being touched or touching others. This fear is derived from his inability to interact physically with others before arriving at Popstar. Despite his enthusiasm from trying new things, his paranoia drives him to thinking things that can or can't be true

♥ He is a employee of Haltmann's works Company, and one very productive. Despite being an extremely productive and efficient employee, Fal's lack of tact generally causes Susie to reprimand him very often. He shows some self-awareness about his actions, but he is often overrided by his worries and the self-reflection fades away very quickly

♥ Fal has picked up the habit of evaluating people as soon as he meets them. He even build goggles that are able to obtain the information of those on his sight

♥ Very similar to Star Dream SOUL, who had purge President Haltmann's soul, as it is explained in the True Arena, most of the dark matter that was corrupting Fal was eroded as well, but he did not get rid of all of it, since it is was fairly difficult to completely get rid of it once it seeps into the core. He still has some dark matter within his systems to this day, just not enough to be fatal… unless he is near to other Dark Matter

♥ The Dark Matter affects significantly him, and reacts to his distress. Is a tortuous cicle were he frightened more and more and then he just... Freezes completly. After a seconds, he recover, without remering anything in the past 3 hours

[rabbitcruiser]

Patriot Day

Honor those who died in the September 11th terrorist attacks, as well as those who risked their lives to save others, on the ground in New York and on United 93.

Patriot Day falls on 11th September (also commonly known as ‘Nine-Eleven’) and is remembered globally as the anniversary of the catastrophic terrorist attacks on the USA of 11th September 2001.

Learn about Patriot Day

Embedded in the memories of everyone who lived through it, this was the day four jet planes were hijacked and crashed into the New York World Trade Center and the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, causing the deaths of 2,977 people. The fourth plane (United Airlines Flight 93) was directed at Washington DC, but its passengers bravely attempted to take back control and it crashed into a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

The large majority of those lost after the attacks on the Twin Towers were working at or above the points of collision; thousands of people who had gone to work that morning like every other day, found themselves suddenly stranded at the top of a burning skyscraper. A number made the choice to jump from the flaming buildings rather than wait to be caught by the flames or for the building to collapse. No one could forget the terrifying and heartbreaking stories and images captured by the news footage of the day.

In the wake of the World Trade Center collisions, many brave men and women from the emergency services risked their lives to try to help rescue victims of the attacks, and of them 411 lost their own lives attempting to fight fires and rescue people.

History of Patriot Day

Patriot Day is recognized by US law as the official day of remembrance for these tragic events, and has been observed every year since. Each year on this day, American flags are flown at half-staff to honour and commemorate those lives lost. The US President asks fellow Americans to observe a moment of silence at 8.46am (Eastern Daylight Time), the time of the first plane collision into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

While the events took place within the USA, the shock and grief experienced in response to the attacks was shared across the globe, and for this reason Patriot Day will be observed not only in America, but all over the world.

How to observe Patriot Day

There are a number of ways that you can observe Patriot Day. One way is by paying honor to those who were on the ground on September 11th, as well as those that lost their lives. There are a number of different ways that you can do this. Thanks to the Internet, we are able to reach out to people that we never would have been able to, and so you can always post a message on social media.

If you don’t know much about the attacks because you were too young at the time, it is a good idea to spend some time doing a bit of research about the occasion. On this date, four airliners carrying passengers, which were bound for California from northeastern airports in the United States, were hijacked by terrorists of al-Qaeda (19 in total).

Two of the planes crashed into the North and South twin towers of the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan. This was United Airlines Flight 175 and American Airlines Flight 11. Both of the 110 story towers collapsed within an hour and 42 minutes. All of the other buildings in the World Trade Center complex collapsed either partially or completely because of the resulting fires and debris.

The third plane crashed into the Pentagon. This was American Airlines Flight 77. This resulted in the west side of the headquarters for the United States Department of Defense collapsing partially. The fourth plane was flown in the direction of Washington D.C. This was United Airlines Flight 93. However, passengers thwarted the hijackers, and the plane crashed into a field in Pennsylvania, potentially saving many lives. 

There is a great film that focuses on the fourth flight – United Airlines Flight 93. The film is called United 93, and it was released in 2006. The film aims to take you through the events of what happened on the plane, focusing on the passengers responding to the hijackers in order to direct the plane away from Washington D.C. The film received critical acclaim, winning a number of awards.

The film is a great watch. It shows how the passengers came together to revolt against the hijackers, despite knowing that their lives were at very high risk. While they ultimately lost their lives in the end, they stopped the terrorists from reaching their intended target, saving many more lives in the process. 

It is also a good idea to use this day to pay honor to the people who died on the 11th of September. This not only includes those on board the aircrafts, but those who died as a consequence of the collapsing buildings and the brave men and women who risked their lives to try and help those in danger. In total, 2,977 victims died on this day, with there being more than 6,000 injuries. Most of the people who died were civilians. However, there were also 71 law enforcement officers who died and 343 firefighters. Why not spend some time reading up on them to show that we will never forget!

Source

[oseberg-shipper]

I wish I could explain to other disabled people and to doctors how exercise works for me, so that doctors could do a better job of helping people get exercise and other disabled folks could use exercise the way I have if it works for them.

Cause the way exercise has been explained and sold to me my entire life has not worked for me at all. But the way I'm exercising now really helps.

I have EDS, degenerative disc disease, spinal nerve damage from Cauda Equina Syndrome, endometriosis, and many other issues. I used to laugh at people when they told me exercise would help. All I ever did trying to exercise was hurt my body and my feelings. I got repetitive stress injuries at the drop of a hat, so as soon as I'd established any kind of routine, I'd hurt myself and be unable to exercise, and then I'd lost my groove and just felt terrible and guilty about it.

Exercise was sold to me as the least I could do to buy my right to exist as a fat cripple.

Last year, I had a lull in active health disasters, and I was worried about becoming so deconditioned that I'd catastrophically injure my back again. So I started a walking program under the guidance of my PT, who knows about EDS. She helped me get fitted with walking sticks to keep my form and give me more of a whole body exercise. She also showed me how to walk. I went to a great little medical shoe shop and got two pairs of sneakers and orthotics fitted by a butch.

I started with 15 minutes of walking, and .25 miles of walking, every other day. I didn't have to do anything else, just on the day it said, walk either 15 min or .25 miles based on what it said on my paper. Eventually, in a few months, I got up to a reliable 3 miles/1 hour walk. I saw the river in all the seasons. I felt the wind on my face and the rain and the sun. I bought exercise clothes and suited up, even for short walks, to make sure my parts all stayed where they should be.

The hardest part was not going ham. Not extending my walk, not going further and faster. The second hardest thing was getting back on the horse when a flare or injury made me take more rest. Also, the distances I was doing were actually too much. My legs hurt all the time and I had to take meds to help with the pain sometimes.

Then, this mystery stomach problem I have started. Intense epigastric pain and vomiting. I had to stop exercising because I was simply not taking in enough nutrition to be safe.

Once I got the vomiting under control, and was able to consume more calories and especially protein, I got back out there. Now, as long as I'm not desperately ill, I walk 1 mile around my neighborhood with my sticks. My back feels better while I'm walking. When I skip a day, my back hurts more. My bowels move better when I walk. Essentially, I've gotten my body physically dependent on exercise. Because that's what our bodies evolved to do, and we offloaded some things like digestion onto the assumption that we'd be moving our bodies.

I hate hate hate the way we talk about exercise in this culture, because it's denying people in pain a tool that could really help them, by wrapping it all up in this horrifying morality play.

I wish there were apps out there for folks like us, that encourage you to exercise but don't link stuff to shame or weight and don't punish you for taking time to recover or prioritize other things. Because it was really really hard to get into exercise and I had to spend a lot of time doing something I really really didn't enjoy, that stole spoons from me, before getting to a point of fitness that allowed me to actually benefit.

[pisspope]

husband fell asleep holding and stroking a lock of my hair in his hand and it was so gentle and frankly ooc for him. gave me the inspo for this so thank u mikey for feeding me

Lock & Key

reiner x reader

cw: nightmares, general angst, mentions of sex, spoilers if u squint, y/n has long hair

Reiner has had nightmares for as long as you've known him, probably even longer. Dreams about things he's done, things he's thought of, even things he has yet to do. He'll wake up with a jolt, eyes wide open, heart beating out of his chest. Then he realizes where he is, that he's safe, that the end of the world has come and gone and he's made it out the other side. And he slowly fades back into sleep.

The first time you sleep together is the first time you see this side of him. It had been a whirlwind of a night, a house party you can barely remember besides snippets of laughter and a general aura of contentment all around. Pieck made a really great stew, you're sure of that. But what happened after you remember in high definition: a vision of golden eyes, the comfort of powerful arms, a feeling of fullness unlike nothing you'd experienced before. And bliss. You fell asleep cradled by hands and arms that, for the first time, were being used for a purpose other than violence.

So it's a shock when Reiner shoots out of bed, hands shaking, head scanning around the room like he's seen a ghost, but then again maybe he has. "Reiner?" you ask, the taste of his name different after the night's endeavors. "You all right?"

His head whips to look at you, eyes bloodshot. But after a moment he softens. "Y-yeah, of course! Just-" he moves to get out of the tangled nest of limbs the two of you have made, "need to get some water."

You can't help but panic a little bit as he speed walks out of the room, his bare feet thumping against the hardwood. Is he regretting what we did? I know it was sort of sudden but-

The sound of glass breaking interrupts the beginnings of your catastrophizing. Pulling on whatever article of clothing you can find in the loose pile on the floor, you fly downstairs to check on the man of the hour(s). When you see him in the kitchen, something causes you to slow.

He's kneeling dejectedly over the remnants of some kitchenware, calloused hands picking up the big pieces one by one. His broad shoulders are shaking, his head held low as he focuses on each tiny shard. As his breathing shudders, you realize he's crying.

Oh, no. You think, gears turning. I was such a bad lay that he's crying.

"Hey, Rei?" you start, gently. He turns to you, eyes shining with more tears left unshed. "You okay?"

He doesn't answer right away, instead opting to take the bigger pieces of glass to the trash can. As he throws them out, he sniffles. "Course I am." he wipes his hands, flashes a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Never better." Liar.

Okay, time to play damage control. You breathe out, working up your courage. "We don't have to do this again if you don't want to. I like you a lot but if it's gonna make you feel this way we can pretend it never happened." You say it all in the span of one breath, trying to rush past the surge of embarrassment that's rising in your chest.

Reiner looks down at you, his face contorted in some sort of distress. The sadness has left his eyes, replaced with panic. "What are you talking about? Make me feel what way?"

Is he playing dumb? "Like this! Breaking glasses and crying on the floor?" you just want this conversation to stop happening, to go back to bed and relish in what will only be a fond memory from this day forward.

He freezes. "You think I'm crying because we had sex?"

Fuck, you didn't expect him to just come out and say it like that. You nod, fight back the sting of tears behind your eyes.

Before either of you can clock each other's movements he has his arms around you. He's kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, anything he can get his greedy lips on. He holds your face, forces you to look up at him. "I will never regret what we did tonight," he kisses you on the mouth. "Ever."

Your stomach flips. His eyes hold that same intensity from before you fell asleep, that same gaze that held you enraptured as he had pushed deeper and deeper into you. There is no question of how he feels about you. But then… "Why were you crying?"

He pauses in his mission of kissing every plane of your face, pulls away and takes your hand in his. "I, uh..." he clears his throat, "have nightmares. Have for a while now. Don't like talking about it."

"Oh man, Rei, I'm sorry," you say, trying to show that you care without coming on too strong. "I made it all about me when you were the one hurting."

He chuckles, that velvety baritone giving you a small shiver. "It's all right, Y/N," he pulls your hand to his mouth, gives it a feather light kiss. "I needed the distraction."

You smirk, feeling the tension in the room shift from sadness to something more primal. "If it's all the same to you, I can distract you some more?"

He returns your smile with a playful grin of his own. Without a second thought, he picks you up off the ground, pulling your legs to wrap around his hips. "I'd like that very much."

~~~

From then on, it's a common occurrence. Reiner stays the night, he wakes up with his heart racing, then he falls back to sleep. You do your best to not ask him about it, to feign ignorance even, in order to respect his wishes. But it's hard. Especially when he starts sleep talking, calling out names you haven't heard in years.

When he starts calling your name in his sleep, you can't hold yourself back anymore. Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it, but you can't just lay here and do nothing. "Reiner baby," you whisper, trying to coax him gently from the dream. "Wake up, honey."

He groans like he's in pain, turns his head in your direction, but doesn't wake up. His eyebrows are knit together, and his hands are balled into fists just inches from his face. You call out to him a few more times, whispering sweet nothings hoping it will make him stir, but there's no real reaction.

He had told you once before to not touch him during these fits, that there's a chance his dream-addled mind would lash out and hurt you. And you've heeded that warning up until this point, but desperate times.

You reach out slowly, bringing a hand to rest on one of his curled fists. And, graciously, no violent switch is flipped. Actually, there's no change at all. You try to slot a finger where thumb and forefinger meet, but he's wound so tight there's no way to get through. Not with something as big as a finger, anyway.

It's a long shot, but you separate a lock of your hair from the rest. Leaning down, you slowly, carefully, weave the lock through his fingers until it comes out right by his pinky. It's still attached to your head, so any sudden movements will be painful, but at least it creates a gap between the skin of his palm and the sharp edge of his fingernails.

And he relaxes. By some grace of god or Ymir or whatever, he relents. His features soften, his breathing evens out, and the sleep talk slowly fades to a droning snore. But that fist never uncurls. He holds on to that lock of hair like it's his lifeline, his link to the love that has just begun to flow between you.

It's an experimental process after that. Slotting tiny things in his massive fingers to see what else will calm him down. Pencils, pieces of hay, heck even uncooked spaghetti noodles. But nothing brings him that same peace as your hair. So, on one of those blessed nights where he sleeps dreamless, you pad to the bathroom and snip some off.

The lock hides in your bedside drawer, and on nights when Reiner tosses and turns and every exhale sounds like a struggle, you place the little talisman in his fist. And in a short time, he relaxes once again. You make it a point to wake up before him, to take the little tress from his now open palm and place it back in its hiding spot. He doesn't want you to worry about him; if he knew you'd cut a piece of yourself off, no matter how small, to stave away his nightmares, he'd never forgive himself.

So you don't tell him why his nightmares seem to be getting shorter, why the dark circles are starting to fade away. It's just a small miracle that neither of you talk about. He can keep his shotgun and his muscles and whatever else he wants to use to protect you from danger. But when he's hurting and scared from the things he's seen, you've got something to protect him too, small as it may be.

You'll tell him about it someday, when he stops holding you like you're made of porcelain, like he's a stone and you're his glass house. But until then, it's your little secret.

[gatheringbones]

[“William Quantrill was born in Ohio, made his living as a cattle rustler and slave catcher in Missouri-Kansas and Texas, and was living in Lawrence in 1859, although not yet politicized. Quantrill’s pro-slavery terrorism in Missouri coincided with the onset of the Civil War, when he and fifteen men set out to torture, kill, and destroy the properties and livestock of abolitionists and their supporters. In August 1862, Quantrill received a field commission as a captain in the Confederate Army.

By the time of the attack on Lawrence a year later, Quantrill was able to muster a force of hundreds of Bushwhacker guerrillas, nearly all armed with multiple six-shot revolvers. The group staged its attack at daybreak, when everyone in the town was still sleeping. Although the men of Lawrence had drilled and practiced for defending themselves and the town, they stored their firearms and ammunition in the city’s armory, so the sleeping population was defenseless when the lightning attack began. Over a span of hours, the guerrillas secured the main hotel as a command center, slaughtering 150 unarmed men and boys, most of the adult males of the town. They burned about a quarter of the town’s buildings, including all the businesses except two.

For the city of Lawrence today, the trauma of the massacre still resonates, especially for the descendants of the dead and survivors. “‘It was utterly catastrophic,’ said Pat Kehde, a retired Lawrence bookstore owner and great-granddaughter of Ralph and Jetta Dix,” reads a Wichita Journal account 150 years after the fact. “On the morning of the raid, Jetta tried to protect Ralph by standing between William Quantrill’s men and her husband. When Jetta stumbled as one of Quantrill’s men rode his horse into her, Ralph was momentarily unguarded and in that instant was shot and killed.”

“We are in an age where we have a war on terrorism, and we talk about terrorism all the time,” said Lawrence historian Paul Stuewe, “but we don’t think about the 19th-century terrorism.”“It is a calamity of the most heartrending kind,” said the New York Times following the attacks, “an atrocity of unspeakable character.”

Following the Civil War, John Newman Edwards, who had fought for the Confederacy, wrote Noted Guerrillas, extolling the Missouri guerrillas as great patriots of the Confederate cause, romanticizing the taking of life up close, claiming the guerrillas were almost superhuman specimens, trying to place them alongside the valiant Confederate Army to be commemorated. He was fascinated by the guerrillas’ deft use of the pistol, often attacking with one in each hand, rather than a rifle, which was the standard weapon used by professional soldiers. He wrote that before a battle, “a Guerrilla takes every portion of his revolver apart and lays it upon a white shirt, if he has one, as carefully as a surgeon places his instruments on a white towel. . . . He touches each piece as a man might touch the thing that he loves.”

Edwards also portrayed Quantrill and his guerrillas as expert horsemen, shooting while riding fast. In fetishizing the guerrilla revolver and the horse, Edwards heralded the beginning of the “cowboy” and “outlaw” hero of the post−Civil War decades, even though these figures had nothing to do with cattle or ranching or even the “West.”

Some of the most enduringly famous, or infamous, of the Missouri guerrillas—Jesse James, Cole Younger, Myra Maybelle Shirley (Belle Starr), and their brothers—came from land-owning slavers; some, like the Shirleys, ran successful business operations and were well connected politically. Their elevation to post−Civil War social bandit heroes would eclipse their former pro-Confederate deeds. In the two decades after the Civil War, the Winchester rifle was fetishized for killing Indians, and the Colt revolver for outlawry. In the process, gun violence and civilian massacres were not just normalized, but commercially glorified, packaged, promoted, and mass marketed.”]

roxanne dunbar-ortiz, from loaded: a disarming history of the second amendment, 2018

[tehamelie]

Garp isn't a funny man (Community 1.3)

Previous Post index Next

It's taking a lot of energy to restrain myself from just plowing through the show at this point. Writing about it is so much more challenging than watching it. I hope at least somebody appreciates my sacrifice. (Hi @pink-squirrel ) Why didn't I become a reactor Youtuber?

Community S1E3: Introduction to film

See, people get worried about Abed cause he watches so much TV, but here's professor Whitman who's EXCLUSIVELY watching Dead Poets Society on a loop. Yeah I figure it's playing in his brain constantly. But only the happy fun parts with the unconventional teacher encouraging students to act on an impulse for once in their lives, of course not the sad parts when the boys go too far outside of the bonds of conformity and the world punishes them, or even the great but serious parts with poetry reading at night in the woods.

But let's not get too far ahead of the plots. Next we encounter Pierce catastrophically failing to use voice command on his phone and driving the whole study group up the wall with this relentless effort to adapt to new, useless technology. I don't want to be a Luddite (and the Luddites had a good cause that's been twisted around by their critics anyway) but I'm entirely on Britta's side here. Because Big Tech is not on our side, not because it's just really irritating to have to listen to someone loudly producing the same error on their device ten times in a row. Well, not only that.

Jeff enters to spread the good word of Whitman's easy A grades. Annie is against it, and it feels like it's more about how it's making a mockery of academia than a question of how much time she'd have to waste on not learning anything in this class. Except when Troy wants in she immediately sees the educational value. And Shirley joins in cause loves Robin Williams.

But Abed does not, in a shocking twist. Well, it's not that shocking. He values good filmmaking and novel stories and he correctly points out there's an element of cheap drama at the cost of credulity that fuels most of Williams' movies. But come on, suspend your disbelief a little and enjoy the tremendous force of his performance.

Rest well, Robin.

And we find out how Abed's life and education plans are restricted by the struggles of his father. "9/11 was pretty much the 9/11 of the falafel business." Britta, of course, immediately rallies to help him rebel by paying for a $70 filmmaking class. I have no idea if that's unusually cheap or expensive for community college, and it's a different joke depending on which, but both are funny so whatever.

Shirley worries Mr Nadir is going to cut Britta's head off with a "salami sword" for, I don't know, talking to Abed while being a woman? It's such an outrageously racist thing to worry about based on just the vague impression she has that the man might be fanatically Muslim, I think the group is focusing on the entirely wrong thing when they just seem to object to the term "salami sword".

But then, it does set up the great joke of Jeff setting a timer and betting Pierce will top her racism within one minute. Which he does.

"Are we going to study Spanish or keep getting involved in each other's personal lives? Hey, Troy sneezes like a girl!" Kind of an uncharacteristic tone for Jeff - caring about what other people say and do and all that - but maybe it's just to remind us he'll do anything to not have to actually study.

I started organizing a thought that these spots of marginally weak writing that seems focused on delivering jokes above all else, could be how Community has its sophomore slump in the third episode. But then the intro played and I realized I'd spent an hour picking apart just the cold open.

Next in Dead Poets Society class we learn more about Shirley. She says she's at the school "To get a degree in business to sell [her] baked goods and whatnot on the Internet," which, what does any of that mean? A highly unspecific "degree in business"? That you'll need to run an online bakery because? And wait a minute, who the heck is going to order a chocolate cake from the Internet? Are you going to send them in the mail?

As it turns out, she's really here to start her life after 15 wasted years. That story she had to tell herself to get out of the house and go to school evaporates. She really does become fully alive, alive with intention and earnestness, and she deserves her A for that moment of truth.

Only when we stop stopping our lives can we begin to start starting them, indeed. Okay, I'd fail Whitman here for that tremendously uncreative line. Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping couldn't do it worse.

Cue the standing on desks and accidents with collapsing desks. Ah, impulsivity is fun.

I like that Whitman sees right through Jeff. For being a word class lawyer, he's consistently terrible at being convincing. But it's nice Whitman wants to give him a chance anyway. He believes in Jeff, he wants him to have a genuine emotional moment in his life.

And the reveal, that the class is actually supposed to be accounting. That's comedy.

Over to Abed shooting a documentary. "It's like a movie but with ugly people." His dad shows up but doesn't talk to him, rather focusing on having a ridiculous argument with Britta, Could it be he has trouble speaking plainly with his son? No no there's never been a dad with that problem.

He seems to jump at the chance to disown him, in fact, and leave the mess of Abed for someone else to take care of. I guess he may just be speaking in anger.

Britta crying "They day I cut myself loose of my father was the day I finally started being *choke* happy" makes me feel such mixed emotions. One, great joke, II, I just want to hold her close, and C, also kind of just want to squeeze her.

The next day, I'm guessing, finds Jeff going into overdrive with his carefully calculated efforts to demonstrate his spontaneity. A Christmas tie with flashing lights, rainbow suspenders and bunny face slippers with bells on? The only thing matching his obnoxious tryhardness here is Whitman, who shows up to complain about Jeff drinking boring normal coffee before ordering a wedding cake. Yeah the act is getting pretty worn out. I'd like it if we saw at least a moment of him like, trying to listen to people, or just being sad, instead of giving the impression he spends every moment of every day relentlessly pursuing the most whimsical impulse.

And we get a whole scene of Pierce teaching Troy about deliberate sneezing. He wants to know more. This can't end well.

Back to Jeff flying a rainbow pattern kite and running through a finely choreographed scene of children playing. I think he'd actually have fun doing these things if he wasn't so desperately, overtly looking for Whitman's approval. And as Whitman continues to see right through him, wouldn't it be time to rethink this approach? Maybe Jeff genuinely doesn't know how to let his guard down and let the world in, even for a moment.

Cut to the study room where Abed gets everyone pizza. There's a whole subplot with Abed acting suspicious and spending too much money that's going to come together in a moment when he finishes the movie so I'm not worrying too much about relating it here, but in a vacuum this is a super weird scene where Abed seems to have fully disconnected from reality, barely interacting with people as they (well, Britta) desperately beg him to explain himself. Love the coffee delivery guy who has to stand there for what seems to him like an impossibly cruel, far too intimate family argument.

At last, everyone's there to see Six Candles just as Abed finishes rendering it. It's like he directed the whole series of events. Get it, because he's a movie director, and he spent the whole time directing his unwitting actors into giving the exact performances he needed to put together this movie to tell his dad he makes him feel neglected, unloved and guilty about his mom leaving them.

That would be a difficult thing to say in words, but it had to be said, and the men are now able to reach each other in a way that maybe neither thought they ever could, and they establish a level of trust, of compromise. That all happens immediately after the end of the film, before the tears dry, while the bright colors and snappy high-energy jingle of the COOL ABED FILMS logo still echoes in the room. Ah, the contrasts.

Cut to Troy sneezing like a big man, making Shirley jump while Pierce looks upon him with approval. Wait a minute, wasn't this episode about learning not to fake spontaneity? Yeah I realized that parallel just now.

But as this corruption of the innocent plot goes, I think the story of Troy's sneezes has the lowest stakes of any piece of dramatic storytelling ever written. I completely forgot how the show does that. Like, I remember the fun of all the extremely low stakes conflicts ("The stakes have never been higher" "Shut up Leonard"), but not how they make it work.

Like Jeff and Britta's kiss here. It's funny because Whitman is completely correct in his assessment that it's a turning point for their relationship (which is why he takes it as an acceptable act of day-seizing and gives Jeff the A), it does feel unexpectedly important for both of them, but where are the stakes? We may be led to believe this will be a Significant Romance, but that never actually happens. Their relationship gets more emotional involvement from Annie than from either of them. It's aggressively medium stakes drama all the way and it's beautiful.

The stinger, with Jeff teaching Troy and Abed about krumping, also beautiful.

[dolphin1812]

“This entire chapter is conceptually hilarious, but some of the moments in it are so bizarre. Take this, for instance:

“ To make that reply and then perish, what could be grander? For being willing to die is the same as to die; and it was not this man’s fault if he survived after he was shot.”

Hugo what

Anyway, the themes of this chapter are fascinating as well. This paragraph encapsulates most of them:

“Cambronne’s reply produces the effect of a violent break. ’Tis like the breaking of a heart under a weight of scorn. ’Tis the overflow of agony bursting forth. Who conquered? Wellington? No! Had it not been for Blücher, he was lost. Was it Blücher? No! If Wellington had not begun, Blücher could not have finished. This Cambronne, this man spending his last hour, this unknown soldier, this infinitesimal of war, realizes that here is a falsehood, a falsehood in a catastrophe, and so doubly agonizing; and at the moment when his rage is bursting forth because of it, he is offered this mockery,—life! How could he restrain himself? Yonder are all the kings of Europe, the general’s flushed with victory, the Jupiter’s darting thunderbolts; they have a hundred thousand victorious soldiers, and back of the hundred thousand a million; their cannon stand with yawning mouths, the match is lighted; they grind down under their heels the Imperial guards, and the grand army; they have just crushed Napoleon, and only Cambronne remains,—only this earthworm is left to protest. He will protest. Then he seeks for the appropriate word as one seeks for a sword. His mouth froths, and the froth is the word. In face of this mean and mighty victory, in face of this victory which counts none victorious, this desperate soldier stands erect. He grants its overwhelming immensity, but he establishes its triviality; and he does more than spit upon it. Borne down by numbers, by superior force, by brute matter, he finds in his soul an expression: “Excrément!” We repeat it,—to use that word, to do thus, to invent such an expression, is to be the conqueror!”

Hugo aims to focus on the people over the famed generals, and here, he does so by asserting that even if there was no victor at Waterloo (”this victory which counts none victorious”), Cambronne was the “conqueror” for recognizing the horrible situation he’d been put in by these men, then expressing his frustration and mocking the whole thing in one word. “Life,” for him, is a “mockery;” while his life is in danger, kings sit in safety, generals command and have honors bestowed upon them, and the man he’s been told is “great” - Napoleon - has been defeated while he remains standing. Hugo compares the curse to a “sword,” underscoring its force, but it’s also notable that it isn’t automatically accompanied by violence on Cambronne’s part. Through its humor and anger, this swear rejects the system that has put Cambronne in this place; by not fighting at that moment (and thus participating in the system of battle) and instead expressing himself, Cambronne (at least in this instance) rejects these harmful systems. The “conqueror” at Waterloo, then, is the common man who spurns the systems oppressing him.

Hugo furthers this comparison by saying that this swear was not only divinely inspired, but channeled the French Revolution (”he hurls it at the past in the name of the Revolution. It is heard, and Cambronne is recognized as possessed by the ancient spirit of the Titans. Danton seems to be speaking! Kléber seems to be bellowing!”). The curse contains within it, then, a spirit of rebellion.

I also think Hugo’s thoughts on what this swear mean speak to why this book, even with a title like Les Misérables, isn’t actually sad overall? There are definitely moments of great sadness (Fantine’s death still hurts), but the booj contains two other key emotions: rage (at the systems that caused this suffering, leading to a desire for change) and, most importantly here, humor. Cambronne’s frustration led to the swear, but it’s also funny to read a full chapter justifying the use of this word. Similarly, many of the characters hold themselves together in the face of the cruelty and despair they witness through humor. We see this with the bishop, who, after losing many friends and relatives to the Revolution and then witnessing the poverty of those he aims to help, constantly mocks himself and the expectations for someone of his status. Even when the characters themselves are less prone to joking (like Valjean and Javert), Hugo either includes jokes in his narration or makes them comical through their absurdities (Valjean’s reverse robberies as mayor, Javert basically all the time). The events the book describes are tragic, but this humor offers hope.

This is a minor addition, but it’s also hilarious that Hugo has somehow made a Frenchman the conqueror of Waterloo. I can really see how someone would come out of reading this and think, “wow, this is great for the French government, one of France’s most notorious losses is now a victory!” without seeing all of the criticism of the political system woven into it.

[sonicasura]

So I had an idea for what kind of kaiju some of the Toys could mutate into

Dog Day and Bobby Bearhug: They'd turn into something similar to King Ceaser, they'd have different types of special attacks like DogDay has a sunbeam like attack while Bobby has roar that creates a ton of air pressure that can push away boulders the size of a house.

Bubba and Picky: They mutate into something similar to Behemoth, large and heavily muscled Titans granted they don't really have Behemoths anteater like claws.

Kickin: He mutates into a kaiju similar to Rodan, to the point that Rodan actually joined Godzilla in breaking into Playtime Co. Granted Monarch draws the line when Rodan tries to take Kickin to his Volcano nest.

Hoppy: She mutates into a rabbit like kaiju/titan who has the ability of electrokinesis and oddly Godzilla seems pretty protective of her, to the point of Godzilla growled when Monarch performs physicals on her.

Craftycorn: She mutates into a titan/kaiju that is actually similar to Shimo granted with a large central horn, her mane slowly turning into collection of spines that Shimo has.

CatNap: He becomes a cat-like kaiju/Titan that can now climb nearly everything think like a mix of a monkey and a cat.

Huggy Wuggy and Kissy Missy: The slowly mutate turn into Great Ape like titans/kaiju to the point that Kong had a trip to the surface to see if they were alright. He brought Suko as he sensed there were new friends.

PJ Pugapiller, Cat-Bee, and Mommy LongLegs: They become titans/kaiju that are similar to Mothras species and the moth titan adopts them, granted they also consider Godzilla a dad.

Poppy and the Prototype don't really mutate into any titan or kaiju due to they were the first real forays into living toys so the kaiju cells used were real minimal

Establishing a timeline here as the Hour of Joy in canon occured around the 2010s so this is before KotM.

Cue the toys panicking as they have to be told this. All of them are currently undergoing therapy to undo whatever mental damage Playtime Co caused. Food therapy especially for those like Boxy Boo who were being tailored to human meat. (Pork being their best friend in that fiasco to help break the addiction.)

Poppy is the only one void of kaiju cells as Playtime Co doesn't know how to fully recreate the original conversion process so they used extra stuff. The Prototype was killed by Godzilla since he felt sense what kind of catastrophic damage he'll cause if left alive. Rodan also appearing definitely kicked Monarch into gear to handle the situation.

Every toy has a timer for when their body will trigger a kaiju related mutation. There are signs that occur before a shift: increased anxiety, uptick in aggression, increased appetite, feeling of tightness, and lethargy. It soon leads to unconscious as the first mutation is the most painful since the toys are essentially growing out of their mascot shaped shells. Their beginning size would be a bit smaller to Suko.

They'll retain some traits from their previous forms i.e color pallet, markings like the tags for the respective Smiling Critters, similar physical stature. Devices are being made so the respective toy can communicate in human languages. Monarch wants to give back at least as much of their original humanity. A division that handles them is also formed with Poppy being a key member since she still is the toys now turning kaiju friends.

Mommy Longlegs has some Scylla cells so she's more spider like in nature but Mothra's side overpowers it enough that any related mutation to spider kaiju are minor. Hoppy was given minor Titanosaurus Gojira cells alongside unknown rabbit kaiju so it explains why Godzilla would be extra protective. She's his kin in a sense.

Boxy Boo is an Tiamat and unknown ferret kaiju mix. CatNap has Hedorah based abilities as his mutation incorporated Red Smoke container in his body so he can shift into a violet gaseous state. Now for mutations in order:

Pre KotM: Hoppy, Kicken Chicken, Dogday

KotM: Hoppy(advanced due to delivering the nuke to Godzilla instead of Ishiro), CatNap, Craftycorn, Catbee

Pre GvsK: Bubba, Picky, Mommy, Boxy

GvsK: Huggy, Kissy, PJ, Bobby

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

All right here we go! 

Spoilers below for chapter 71 of PN

Oo nice, marinette POV is always fun in this

Ough little baby… not feeling mixed enough sounds difficult :(

Oh jeeze poor thing, wow yeah she kinda just lost it all in one go

Damn Fei almost succeeded in what hawkmoth has been trying to do for 1 year in like 12 hours

I’m going to be homeless, miraculous-less, I’m going to have to perform on the streets for money and wander through the streets lost and hungry until I eventually die in a trash can.! Always love marinette catastrophizing 

Ok but if panthera was there then you two could panic about both losing things together!! It would be great fun. 

Christ you really capture marinette’s constant state of high alert amazingly its honestly really funny

French. My god. French. Someone could speak French.

Marinette had found her.. her Shanghai savior. NO GIRL SHE STOLE FROM YOU BUT THIS IS FUNNY AS FUCK

IT GOT FUNNIER HELP CALLING HER A CASH COW????GIRL PLEASE I’M LOSING IT ON A SUNDAY MORNING

Ha idiot, yes Fei you have morals accept it. I know in the Shanghai special they basically had Marinette's epic aura of kindness remind Fei of her dad’s ideals, but i’m curious what’ll happen here

Fei forgor that to scam people you have to be certain type of person. Which she is not. 

Nah you got me tricked for a second when you mentioned Rose saying something at the start of Juleka’s POV i was like “girl what we get a rose POV??” but alas

Make Juleka visit Scotland and then I can comment on inconsistencies and shit the internet lies about, it would give me great joy

Bird employee?? Mr Cheng is so cool

The gorilla uses sign language?? Why did i not know this. That’s cool af

Hey Marinette is says gullible on the ceiling look up. Girly really trusts the first person she could communicate with directly after being mugged

Marinette and her slight of hand tricks return again!

Fei being baffled by kindness repaying in its own way is so much fun

Nah not the way Juleka and Adrien are bonding with Mr Cheng before Marinette does it-

Bastille is fun, i enjoy this bird

Guard cat Juleka is so real

Everything. She looked at herself in the bike mirror. Her damaged face, her ruined hands that were meant for outreached protection and kind generosity– gnarled into the claws of a thieving demon. Fei closed her eyes, remembering the emptiness of what should’ve been around her wrist, and remembering the emptiness of where her father should’ve still been standing. This paragraph goes so hard, i love it. 

Nah Fei pleeek talk to someone girly your so sad rn

Marinette is so little and darling

Juleka didn’t trust the darkness. Not to someone alone. Not to someone that wasn’t her. Emo ass motherfucker (but also valid AF)

No because why am i still so suspicious about Adrien finding out. Like girl please. 

NO BECAUSE THE SUSPICION IS GETTING HIGHER GIRLY IS GOING TO SNEAK OTU

Mr Cheng panicking- oh dear, someone please give the guy a hug

Hey. how does Fei expect Marinette to pay her when she already stole all her money. 

GIRL STOP TELLING EVERYONE HOW PRECIOUS THEY ARE TO YOU PLEEK

Wait no girl she needs the earrings. Girl please. Fei why. 

HUH WHAT PLAGG CAN JUST LEAVE??

This is so awesome and silly style and i love it

Alright, chapter 72 now, I’m rolling this into one review cause I’ve got the flow

NEVER MIND THE NEW CHAPTER IS 30K I WILL SPLIT THESE

chapter 71 was banging, loved it cap! now the monster that is chapter 72 shall be slain

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Encanto Addams family HC's: The blue and yellow couple (rewrite hehe)

(It has come to my attention by @miracles-and-butterflies that Agustin and Felix coming in as teenagers and joining the family whilst they were still minors, only to later get married and have children is a...not ethical...so had to rewrite this. @jacarandaaaas @dandylion94)

Felix loved everything about the weather. But not the sunny kind, the kind that causes catastrophes or floods, storms and rain, etc. No, never liked how many deaths or injuries they caused, but he couldn't help but love how fierce and spontaneous these things were.

Weird things had been happening to the town he lived in in the last 13 years. Random showers, snow, hail, small tornados, lightning strikes, storms, etc.

He found it fascinating that it just kept happening so randomly throughout any season. One day, he saw lightning sprouting out of an area for hours. The next day, same thing, it went on for four days.

So, he decided to go see what was going on but stay far away so he doesn't get struck. For some reason, the forest let him through and that's when he stumbled upon her.

A swirl of lighting striking the ground and swirling around in the air. This was extremely fascinating to him; it was a lightning tornado.

Then he heard...laughter. Manic laughter and giggles...coming FROM the lighting tornado.

For some reason he stepped closer. And closer, and closer...then he stepped on a twig.

*Crunch*

The lighting paused...then harshly slammed itself into the ground. The smoke cleared and a woman with bright red hair and white sin appeared through the smoke. She looked to be in her 20's at best.

"Who.are.you?"

-

Agustin, being the nature lover he is, loved studying plants in the forest. He was actually studying to be a botanist and an herbalist. But if there was an odd-looking bird fluttering around or a non-threatening animal, he would try to sketch it.

One day, he went in to far and a jaguar tried to kill him and most likely eat him. Instead of running toward the village he ran deeper and deeper into the forest. The animal soon caught up with him and...hurt him badly. Before the animal could take a final swipe/bite at him, something spooked it, and it ran back to where it came from.

The dark forest led his body to the house; Julieta's garden to be specific. Casita alerted her and she went outside to stare at the badly bruised man.

He was cute, very cute. A nice moustache, chiseled features, and dressed very dapper. Yeah, his clothes were bloody and tattered, but she could see he knew how to dress himself.

And Julieta was aware of the forest leading people AWAY from their house, so if it brough someone here, they must be someone to trust. It happened to Pepa so this must be her new toy to keep too!

She took him back inside and nursed him back to health.

"Mama, can I keep him?"

"I think your old enough to own make that decision on your own now."

Alma didn't know of Felix at first, only four years into the relationship is when Pepa finally decided to tell her she had a boyfriend.

Julieta made her attraction apparent the first day Agustin was in their house. So, Alma knew she would be seeing more of him whether she liked it or not.

Pepa told Alma the exact way they met. Felix found her having a "lightning day" and it was love at first sight. Great...both her daughters fell in love with outsiders. But she was actually happy her daughters found someone to love, she didn't want them to be lonely forever.

Bruno did the over-protective brother talk to both of them...but more sinister

"If you hurt my Hermana I will cut your limbs off, make you eat them, burn you, scalp you, and let you starve for the rest of your days."

But they weren't discouraged, they visited the girls every other day. The girls were of age to do what they wanted, so they decided to have dates with the boys in the village they lived in when they got the chance.

Bruno usually tagged along but only to head off and do his own thing.

Alma spent her time at home doing her own things such as chatting with Pedro with a glass orb. He told her that she should get out more and for him...she finally stepped past the forest into the village with her daughters.

She hated it. Everyone was so friendly, smiley, and just...bright. The houses, the stores, the people...she didn't understand how her daughters or son could take it.

Maybe they dealt with it for their s/o and curiosities sake. Alma just tried her best to ignore it and look around to see if anything had changed.

She had the triplets in 1900 and now it was 1923, some things have changed in terms of clothing style and cars. Other than that, things were still the same. Bubbly people and horribly bright atmosphere.

Some years have passed at the girls were now married at 27/8 and soon had their first daughters at 29. Isabela and Dolores.

Bruno stayed single, he never had interest in romance. Only books and...other things.

Any questions or ideas, my ask box is open!

[the-starry-seas]

More Sparkling thoughts:

They're one of the last batches made on Cybertron before [insert a catastrophe that prevented the making of new ones]. They were intended to be raised as soldiers, but then the war took a bad turn for the Autobots and it became clear they'd never grow up in time. So the most injured, and therefore least combat effective, Autobot is made their guardian. Their name was Widespot.

One of the last remaining transport ships was loaded with the stasis pods holding the Sparklings, and Widespot barely managed to get off Cybertron. It was a minor miracle that they were able to escape, but there were a few Decepticon ships in pursuit, so their ultimate fate is questionable in everyone's minds.

Especially since the ship was supposed to rendezvous with the rest of the Autobots on Earth, and then never showed up. As the years passed, and then the decades, it became obvious that Widespot (and all the sparklings, by extension) were killed by the Decepticon ships.

When the Transwarp Drive was destroyed, the resulting explosion of energy sent ripples across the universe. This generally meant nothing in the grand scheme of things - a handful of asteroids getting put into other quadrants of space, far from the Milky Way - but one ripple caught the ship and brought it into orbit around Earth.

It stayed there for twenty-nine years, unbothered by the human astronauts who thought it was just more space junk. Eventually its orbit degraded enough that it plummeted through the atmosphere and landed in upstate New York.

The Autobots find the ship with Widespot dead in the control seat. Decepticons fired on the ship, disabling all its systems and killing its pilot, and left it to drift through space since they thought the stasis pods were destroyed.

Except they weren't! So the bots have a dozen brand new sparklings to look after. There's a few thoughts from the older bots, about how the sparklings might end up as soldiers after all, but for the most part it's a very festive mood! The sparklings are the absolute cutest thing imaginable, and also kind of need constant supervision to stay out of trouble.

They're intelligent enough to solve problems, and by extension, they cause plenty of problems too. Unfortunately, being like two weeks old, they have no concept of danger. They will walk out into the road or try to pet a rabid raccoon if left to their own devices. They also basically have the moral code of a flock of seagulls, just because they haven't learned otherwise yet.

Fortunately, they all really love Stormbrake, and are happy to cuddle up to him for hours at a time. (And he's happy to hold them! They mean more to him than anything or anyone else.) Nobody lets Mirage babysit without supervision, because he also has the moral code of a seagull sometimes. But Stormbrake can get him to behave, so they make a great team. Especially when Bee teaches the sparklings their first curse and gets banned from babysitting for two months.