#may 4th cannot get here fast enough

[crmsndragonwngss]

Dear god, I don’t ask for much, but please let me get to the venue early so that I can park my ass on the rail and not move all fucking night 🙏😭

[bluecapsicum]

Night and dusk skies illustrations for my daily meteorological fiction project, Reports From Unknown Places About Indescribable Events (Twitter,��Instagram, Mastodon, Bluesky, archives on my website).

Keep reading for the companion texts.

March 25th: We report: it is marshy here, and we are struggling to pick our feet back up every time we put them down. We speak low, but the sound of our steps is louder than our voice anyway. We watch our expert's back through the fog of our breath. The full moon is completely obscured.

April 2nd: We report, tonight, from the depths of soggy darkness. It is a day for night set out here, the clouds are practically shining in the sub-horizon light. Our expert talks at length about the Purkinje effect, the fact that the colour our human eyes see best in low light is blue.

April 14th: We report between one breath and the next: colours are not burnt out yet, there are a handful lying around there. In just a beat, the day will have been consumed, down to the very last bit of candlewick. We are trying to cram all our hopes and dreams into that last second.

April 22nd: We report after staying alone in the dark for too long: it is a nice thought that after the Sun burns out, so many of those stars will be left. So that the small handful of minerals that is in our ribcage and our teeth and nails may yet be part of something else, in a long time.

May 4th: We report at the hour when ghosts appear, walking in the middle of the road. It is not enough of a place that we imagine any cars could come by here and now, but we keep listening for them anyway. Instead, we hear echoes of a motorway in the distance, and the wind in our ears.

May 8th: We report on a moonless night: the power is out in the neighbourhood. Our eyes are tired, it is a balmy spring evening, and when we look up, we cannot help but think the stars are about to fall on us. They flicker. We lose our balance as we forget where the ground is.

May 12th: We report at dawn: when we got up during the night, the sky was clear and full of stars, but this morning, we can smell rain and shivers on the wind. The clouds brood, big and dark; we appreciate their languidness in the face of the breeze. In time, the sunlight will break out.

May 20th: We report about early in the night, when there is still blue to be found in the remnants of light. This is not anywhere near a clear night - we can tell by the brushstrokes across the vault - but we see more than a few stars. They come out shy and dim, but we see them.

May 25th: We report: morning, the sunrise is starting to show colours through the clouds. The leaves are heavy with dew, and rain is fast approaching. The air is already charged with that humid morning smell, but there is definitely rain on top. It feels icy as it goes through our nose.

May 28th: We report: there was fog when we fell asleep last night, and it has not entirely lifted yet in the blue morning. There is a sea in the field. We are squinting at it as though it were the glare of the sun, hoping to see through it. We get mist in our eyelashes for our troubles.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Imagine if, while in the zoo, the tributes of the 10th hunger games had spent their time bonding and at some point kinda joked about escaping together? And they all thought out exit strategies and such and even the word they’d use as signal to initiate the plans. They discuss who’s good at what, jokingly dividing tasks between them, with Wovey, Bobbin, and Mizzen getting the task of “stay behind us and don’t die” because they’re the youngest. No one really takes it seriously, they just use the fantasy to escape their horrid reality for a second because it’s nice to imagine all of them can make it out alive, even if they know that’s not the case.

Then the arena bombings happen

Otto and Ginnee probably still die, since they died from schrapnel, but Panlo and Sheaf were far enough away to still be conscious and moving around (that last part is mostly because of adrenaline). Everyone’s caught off-guard, but someone (probably Coral) sees their chance and screams the word they discussed, and all tributes jump into action. Jessup and Lucy Gray still save their respective mentors, but because the tributes are working together the peacekeepers have been taken out so there’s no one to drag them away. Instead, all 21 remaining tributes book it as fast as they can and manage to escape the area before reinforcements arrive. They are now on the run, and cannot show their faces without getting shot on sight, but they’re alive and that’s what matters. Mizzen, Sheaf, and Treech are the best thieves of the group (Mizzen’s small and fast (he was just closer to the snakes than everyone else shut up), Sheaf is described as "a limber little girl", and Treech sneakily stole Dill’s water bottles. That’s my evidence. Also they need more love) and thus go out to scrap together anything that may be helpful.

They, being the overachieving badasses they are, get their hands on futuristic medicine to cure Dill’s tuberculosis faster than the real world ever could and help Hy manage his asthma (because it’s chronic, there’s no way they can find a cure for that just lying around even in the future). I say they’re overachieving, because Sheaf did the back handspring for food, Treech only died because of Lucy’s cheating (still getting 6th(movie)/3d(book) place, and he definitely would’ve killed her and been a real contender for the win if she hadn’t cheated), and Mizzen is 13. A 13-year-old got 5th(book)/4th(movie) place. I rest my case.

They use the newfound supplies to heal their wounds and disinfect them, Jessup doesn’t get rabies because I make the rules here, and things are good. They spend a while utilizing their unique skills to stay hidden until one of two things happen:

1) the mentors, who have gotten quite attached to their assigned tributes, fight for the games to be disbanded and rally the rest of the academy, leading to a better Panem where the Capitol and the districts become a functioning, not-dystopian nation again and everything ends well.

Or

2) the tributes manage to escape the capitol and flee into the woods, letting Lucy Grey lead them to the Covey because ain’t no way they can just go back to their own districts just yet. The covey, being nomadic, is the best place for them to stay until they’ve grown up enough to be unrecognizable from their child selves to anyone who doesn’t actually know them.

Either way, things are better. I wanted to share this because I’m sad that all these wonderful (fictional) children died for the amusement of genuine monsters (and those indoctrinated to believe district people are not people)

Edit because a lot of new people are liking this post: someone wrote it :)

[astrologycharts242]

NEW SERIES: Can Jupiter or Venus placements show how someone meets his or her spouse? (My research study)

Can venus placements show where a guy will meet his spouse?

This is a new series that I wanted to try because when I would read people's charts I would always find out how they meet their spouse by at least 90 percent of the time.

In the beginning I was bad at this stuff but now I'm pretty good. I learned fast in 2021 that finding out how someone meets their spouse cannot be reliant on a jupiter a venus placement so as of today I don't even use it. Yet I am still successful with the results.

You gotta think also using that method is bad because someone may end up becoming a homosexual. Then they marry someone of the same sex. Which at least 95 percent of astrologers will miss. I come across lots of videos of people saying jupiter and venus can show how someone meets his or her spouse. I want to do a research study and I think it's great content.

Let's start with Will Smith and his chart is a perfect example as to why the tropical and sidereal charts do not even show the same thing especially when it comes to meeting a spouse.

First Let's look at his sidereal chart instantaneously once I see the 7th lord or ruler in the 4th house. I know tons of ways how he met his spouse. One way is in his home, vehicles, residence or the state he was born in. Surprisingly he met both of his wives in the country he was born but it's still not a definite answer.

Today.com had the information and you can see he met his first spouse through his friend actually. Yes he went to meet Jada through the introduction of friends but instead he met his first wife. Which is funny right because he was gonna meet Jada the same exact way he met his first wife?

Ok in 1994 he legitimately met Jada and in his sidereal chart venus is in the 6th house of jobs. He met Jada at his job called the fresh prince of bel Air as proven in this article by peoples magazine.

Here's the catch though venus in his tropical chart is not in the 6th house.

In fact nothing really shows will Smith meeting his spouse in the ways he actually met them. The closest placement in his tropical chart you can say is his 7th lord being in the 4th house.He met Jada in a home environment but was it actually really his home? If you get what I'm saying. Unless he actually lived on the set, which is pretty common for actors to do. Yes wherever you stay even temporarily for a residence falls under the 4th house. It could even be for a week

This means his tropical chart is useless in determining how he met any of his wives. Unless he actually really lived on set. I guess with venus being in the 5th house and the 5th house having to do with stage play, performing arts, entertainment and I guess acting in this case. Yet it's still not definite answer like if you paid me money just to say that you wouldn't even believe what I'm saying.

Unless the venus aspect on to the 11th house is why he met them through his friends. See this is too sporadic, erratic and not concrete enough for me to tell a person that had sent me money this type stuff. Which is why I would rarely use a venus placement to do this.

If I look at his moon chart there is a similar placement in their that shows meeting his spouse in a home like setting.

A part from that. The 7th lord is in his 11th house so you can see how he met his wife through his friends in the moon chart.In his moon chart venus is in the 1st house and obviously he met Jada in person. If you think about it the moon chart shows better ways of how he met both of his wives. Let's focus on the sidereal chart and the venus placement it's in his 6th house of jobs so I guess the venus placement worked in this case.

Had will went to an astrologer who only reads tropical before he met his first wife. To find out how he would actually meet his first wife. Then he would've gotten it wrong. Let's say I was alive at that time then I would've gotten it correct because I don't even like using tropical nowadays to find out how someone meets their spouse. For reasons exactly like this.

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

Beat the Dead Horse (You'll Get Red White and Blue Confetti)

fandom: marvel

word count: 3521

(AO3)

Some people say that you die the same way you're born. They extrapolate this point to different ends- alone, the more sheltered or depressed folk say; screaming and covered in someone else's blood, say those with a bit more humor, or else those who've lived violent lives; surrounded by loved ones, say all the civilians who have never and will never go to war, who hope to die old instead of young.

Steve doesn't agree with any of them. He was born on July 4th, amid fireworks and celebrations in the still heat of Brooklyn, with both his parents there and already full of love, just a few short years before his Pops passed on, and quite a few more years before Ma joined him. Now, he's sitting alone in the cockpit of a plane hundreds of miles from Brooklyn- but fast closing that gap- in the sharp cold of midwinter. His closest loved ones are only reachable over radio, not that he wants any of them here with him.

Peggy stays with him to the end. He can still hear her voice as the jet hits the water, and he knows that his own radio cutting out on her end must feel something like the tiny breeze he felt against his hand as Bucky just barely missed it; it must feel like finding out about the 107th when he was still just a dancing monkey for good old Uncle Sam; it must feel like other things, too, but Steve can't really think around the burning cold of the water all around him, flooding the whole jet and swallowing him whole.

---

"Steve Rogers was an American hero, there's no doubt about that. He lives on in comic books and archived propaganda films, in childhood memories and history books alike. Captain America is, some say, more myth than man by now; there has even been some debate on whether or not Steve Rogers's transformation under Dr. Erskine's formula was exaggerated in government propaganda (Rich, 1967), or whether there was even a successful test of the Super Soldier serum that took place at all (Waters & Meyer, 1966); some more contemporary and less mainstream authors have even questioned if Steve Rogers was a real person at all, or merely a government prop to aid in the propaganda effort during a time when morale was at a low (Bouchard & Wright, 1971).

Despite these debates, it cannot be overstated the impact that both Captain America's life and loss meant to the American populace, both during the war and even having a substantial ripple effect to the modern day. How many high schoolers are currently writing essays in their English classes about how this author or that poet uses him as a symbol for war, peace, or hope itself? Depending on which books they're reading, it may even be all three at once; and yet, at the same time, how many television advertisements have you seen today that feature Steve Rogers in support of this or that product, his likeness Xeroxed straight from the comic books for the occasion? The man is everywhere. He lives and breathes in your living room, at your kitchen table, on the radio waves and air waves alike.

It can make you wonder, sometimes, if you love him or hate him. He did nothing to most people who are living now, didn't murder any grandfathers- at least, no grandfathers that anybody would be proud to talk about- and yet you can hear the kids and the talk radio men chattering about him, about his legacy, about how backwards America is because of it. How he's gone from 'hero' to propaganda machine for the more Conservative folk, how he represents all that's wrong with the world today, how he stands up for nothing but racism and war and staying in 1955 for everybody's lives ad infinitum.

It's absurd. It's ahistorical. It's shaping modern culture as we know it."

- Richard Elliot, "A Second Transformation of Steve Rogers," February 1973.

---

The light is bright enough to be seen even through his closed eyelids.

He's not sure of when, exactly, he becomes aware of this fact. For all he knows, the light's always been bright, and he's just closer to the surface than he thought he would end up.

Is he dead? He doesn't even feel particularly awake, so that's not an unrealistic possibility. Maybe he's floating in front of the gates of Heaven, though he honestly feels more like he's lying on an Army cot more than floating anywhere. He'd thought that clouds, especially the Holy kind, would be a bit softer, but maybe there's some divine meaning behind it. There's a divine meaning behind everything, that's what his Ma used to say, and he's not about to question her or her faith now.

It's a long moment before it actually occurs to him to open his eyes and start tuning into the world around him. Everything is syrupy and slow, like it's just a bit too early on a winter morning and he's trying to think through the fog that's accumulated on the horizon and over the river. He feels like his brain's a car engine that's in dire need of oil, and the second he opens his eyes is when a mechanic finally pops open the hood of the car.

The lights are too bright, almost like they're pumping too much electricity into them at once. How much power is this building using? It can't be as much as the lights alone imply, because the bedding and the room both insist that this is nothing more than a military hospital- and they wouldn't waste money on the lights when they could be using that same money for more weapons. He jumps up off the bed, because something isn't right, and either something's happened or he's being played for a fool, probably both.

He looks out the window to see New York, from a few floors up, but it doesn't smell of the usual factory smoke and he can't hear any cars or people on the ground. The skyline looks too flat, and the window is situated such that he can't look down at the city, just at the windowsill. The only sounds that he can hear are coming from the radio, which is tuned to a baseball game that he idly listens to for a few moments as he steps back from the window and towards the bed.

After a moment, he realizes that the game sounds familiar; he remembers sneaking into it with Bucky just before he was drafted, sitting in the back of the stands with a terrible view but a view nonetheless, because they'd both gotten the day off from their respective jobs- Bucky at the docks, and himself at the local grocer's- and they figured it was a decent way to spend the day. He wouldn't forget that game even if they'd cut his head open and plucked the memory out of him.

Somebody's definitely trying to play him for a fool, but before he can think of what to do about it, the door to the room opens. In walks a woman, her tie done up all wrong, and all that he can do is demand answers for where he is, who's taken him, what's happened.

She denies everything, tells him that he's in a military hospital, and he truly commends the Germans on being able to fake American accents so well. Did they recruit a real American, he wonders? No, they couldn't have, because if this woman was truly American, she'd know how to tie her tie in the way that American women are supposed to. She looks like a man tied her necktie, so not American.

He's sick of this already. If he's being taken prisoner, at least respect him enough to tell him that instead of doing a stupid song and dance routine of trying to trick him into thinking he's safe. He moves past the woman and starts running for an escape, barely paying attention to the kind of compound they've put him in, only that there are a lot of windows and a lot of people in black suits. He runs out, hoping against hope that there will be backup, somewhere, or at least some kind of information on where he is and who's found him.

It feels like five seconds and five years before he stops. It's the middle of a busy street, with cars that look like Howard Stark personally engineered each and every one of them, while the buildings climb higher than any he's ever imagined. They're covered in screens, with what looks like hundreds of different colored film reels being projected on every one.

... It's still the same Manhattan, the man he later learns is Fury tells him. Just seventy years after you left it.

---

"Ronald Reagan's economic system is unsustainable, as stated far earlier than this publication by far better economists than I. Since I am not an economist, I feel that I should instead apply my own expertise to our current climate: American Nationalism is now higher than it's been since 1956, and that's not a coincidence.

Ronald Reagan, now famously having played a minimal role in the film, "Captain America: Siberian Takeover" (Russo & Russo, 1954), has become a symbol for both the American Right and America itself- though in a capacity greater than that of the acting President. His liberal use of Steve Rogers' likeness in his campaign makes his platform obvious to those who have studied the man in depth: he's practically synonymous with the caricature "Uncle Sam," and in a time of dwindling faith in the government and in America as a whole, in a time of disillusionment with the establishment, here he- and, by extension, Reagan- is to save the day against the Communists instead of against the Nazis.

So he wins the election, and all of a sudden everything is prosperous and the economy is booming. Everyone's buying cars, everyone's buying houses, everyone's buying everything and the 80's are already a time of hedonism and plenty mere months after his election. Captain America wins again, at least until this bubble pops and we all swing back the other way on the political pendulum."

- Megan Oher, "Reaganomics, Nationalism, and Captain America," December 1983.

---

It only takes two weeks before they need him again.

Two weeks to mourn everyone he's ever met. Two weeks to acclimate to the peace he was assured that he would have, only for it to be torn away.

He didn't miss the military.

---

TOM: Is that- is that the real Captain America? Fighting the Chitauri, there in the video, you see that?

KATIE: I do see it, Tom. I'd heard that they found his body about a month ago, but nothing on if he was actually alive all this time. We'd have heard, we're the number one source of information in New York, there's no way we could have missed this.

TOM: Well, either we did, or they managed to clone him. How long does it take to grow a man in a test tube?

KATIE: More than a month, I think.

TOM: Probably. But modern science is a wonder!

KATIE: I think they might have just figured out the serum from his body and given it to someone else, decked that guy out in costume instead. Seems less time-consuming than an entire clone, and besides, wouldn't a clone of Steve Rogers wind up like the pre-serum guy? He was shorter than me and scrawnier than you!

TOM: Yeah, unless it went into his DNA, they'd waste their money on a clone... the serum sounds about right. Unless it's just a really buff guy they found at some gym.

KATIE: He swears he doesn't do steroids or anything.

[STUDIO LAUGHTER]

TOM: Oh, no, of course not. Totally legit, just as strong as Captain America but completely naturally.

KATIE: Of course, of course.

- Transcript of the talk show, "Ragging On with Katie and Tom," Season 7, Episode 6; October 2012.

---

There's a press conference afterwards.

There are actually several press conferences afterwards, but they all blend together after a while, all the same information to different people and phrased in different ways. Yes, the Avengers are under SHIELD jurisdiction, or Yes, Loki is contained and there is no danger of him coming back and wreaking more havoc on New York or anywhere else.

There are also the fun ones, the ones that he'd thought were public information up until now.

Are you the real Steve Rogers? is a common one. He considers, for half a second the first time, lying and telling them No. He knows that if he's honest he'll never have a moment's peace again, he can never drop the act of Captain America, he'll always be beholden to upholding this title that's grown far larger than he could have ever imagined. His name is in history books, his costume worn by every actor who managed to claw their way into it both on Broadway and in the cinemas, every moment of his life before 1945 dissected and consumed by everyone who's gone through any American History class. He could shuck that weight off right now, he could pretend to be just the latest in a long line of actors and liars alike.

The temptation only lasts for a fraction of a moment, though, and then he remembers himself. Yes, he says, then and every time thereafter. I am Steve Rogers.

---

REPORTER: What is your opinion on Steve Rogers coming back to life out of the ice?

MELANIE: Well, um, I don't- I don't think I like it very much.

REPORTER: And why is that?

MELANIE: I mean, the last time things were so much about Steve Rogers, it was 9/11 and everybody started hating anybody who wasn't the same shade as printer paper, or- or dressed just slightly too masculine or slightly too feminine. Everyone was scared of everyone, and that was already going to happen after all this alien business, but I think the man himself coming back just makes it all worse.

REPORTER: So you think he shouldn't have been unearthed at all? Just left to rot?

MELANIE: I mean- I mean, he's still a person, and of course he deserves to live and all that, I just wish it weren't so public. I wish he just... didn't do all those press conferences, or helped out in New York but not in costume, or lied and said he wasn't really Captain America. It's not even his fault, he didn't even do anything, he's a product of his time and everybody putting his face all over everything doesn't help, but I wish that he wasn't the biggest signal that me and my friends all need to find somewhere to hide. I wish his face wasn't a sign that someone's going to start committing hate crimes against me, or worse.

- Interview Transcript, "Channel 9 News, Chicago," January 2013.

---

Steve doesn't understand why people seem so wary of him.

It's not the same kinds of people that used to be wary of him; instead, it seems to be reversed, with polite society welcoming him with open arms while the people on the outskirts skitter away like rats from a cat. When did it change? Even in 1945, it wasn't this bad, because he still easily got the trust of all the Howling Commandos- though, that might have been aided by his reckless rescue of all of them from Hydra.

Still, the Commandos had thought of him as one of them, an outcast from the military and society same as the rest of them.

Tony says the reason can be found online- or, more accurately, he'd said, Google it, I'm not explaining a half century of history when Wikipedia can do it better. So, here he is, typing away at a computer and routinely forgetting that he can backspace and correct his typos, only to remember when the machine spits back strange answers to his searches.

Everybody seems to think he's someone he's not. Everything he's getting back is telling him that Captain America is nationalism in a nutshell, which was true when he was filming all those propaganda movies and punching Hitler from California to France, but nationalism's come to mean something different now. Nationalism now means racism, means fear, means hate; and, again, it didn't not mean those things seventy years ago, but it's all the more apparent now that this is what he, as a person, has been reduced to.

It all comes back to the root problem: he's not a person anymore, not really, and now there's almost nobody who knows that anymore. There's nobody who hasn't grown up hearing about him, there's nobody around who he can just be any other man with rather than Steve Rogers, Captain America, and all the baggage that that entails. There's nobody he can talk to about Bucky, how they used to be something that wasn't quite best friends and was more along the lines of what he was on his way to being with Peggy after they'd ended that; there's nobody he can talk to about Peggy, either, and she's her own kind of legend, too, untouchable just like him.

Everybody thinks he's someone who would hate people like himself, which is ironic and at least a little bit funny. He thinks Tony would laugh at it, if he didn't hate Steve from the start of all this. Still, he's the one of all of them best acquainted with the future and how to make people think in the ways he wants them to think from a public relations perspective; if Steve wants people to stop associating him with that kind of regressive hatred, Tony is the best man for him to call, and he doesn't hate him so much as to give him bad advice on purpose.

Would people stop thinking that I hate minorities if I tell them that Bucky and I used to go out? may not have been the best thing for Steve to open that phone call with, though.

After quite a bit of coughing on Tony's end of the line, followed by an aggressive line of questions that inadvertently reveal quite a bit about what stories Howard chose to pass along versus what he chose to omit, Steve has his answer of Yes, but the PR people will hate you forever if you don't talk to them about it first. Steve is of the opinion that many PR people would rather he not say anything about that, and it's not really something he feels like bringing up, considering that they'd both broken it off long before he met Peggy or had the serum, but it does seem like an easier bomb to drop on everyone than the other option of insisting that he doesn't agree with the way his image has been used for the past seventy years and very slowly winning people over with that. He'd rather set the record straight immediately.

There isn't an opportunity for a while, and in that time, he finds the word bisexual and thinks he likes it quite a bit- and then he thinks of the irony in the knowledge that many people think he'd hate anyone who likes that word, too. He has to say something soon; immigrants are afraid, every kind of minority is afraid, and the conservative politicians are having the same heyday they've been having for months.

Finally, finally, there's a press conference scheduled by Tony, one that he doesn't tell anyone the purpose of, and for that Steve is eternally grateful. He thinks he's starting to bridge the gap that Howard built between them, constructed of distorted memories and insistence that Steve would have supported this or that when in all reality he wouldn't.

I am Steve Rogers, he says, mirroring the first thing he ever said to this particular public, far removed from his own public in his own time. I am Steve Rogers, and my mother was an immigrant to this country. I am Steve Rogers, and I am bisexual. These things are not congruent with the things that many politicians say that I am, or say that I support. I keep having words put in my mouth, and I am here today to stop it. I do love my country, but I do not love the things that my country has done in my name. I do not support the hatred or the oppressive agenda that my country has used my name to further. Thank you.

Reporters are practically screaming over each other, trying to get their questions answered. The lights are brighter than they've ever been, with camera flashes blinding him better than any fluorescents ever could.

Steve was born again the moment he woke up alone in that too-bright room in SHIELD a few short months ago. Now, in this too-bright room full of a cacophony from far too many people, he's killed something that's been alive far longer than he ever was.

[countfagulaa]

14, 23, and 30 for the Granada Holmes asks! 😊

14. Like with all the other answers, there's far too many but I think I'd have to say the time when Holmes wakes up Watson at dawn after only getting two hours of sleep and in perfect drama queen fashion says, "I wonder if you'd do me the very great kindness of considering the possibility of waking up." Like bro the poor man got TWO MEASLY HOURS OF SLEEP-

23. I'm gonna be completely honest here. I truly have no idea what exactly got me to watching the series. All I remember is I started watching it when I was in the 5th or 4th grade when my great obsession and utter fascination with Sherlock Holmes first started. I do, however, remember how my obsession with said dumb homo detective actually began. As embarrassing as it may sound it all rooted from the cartoon show Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century that aired on Qubo which was the only channel I really ever watched as a wee lad besides the occasional PBS Kids since it was some of the only cartoons I could get without cable. I'm not entirely sure what element precisely about Holmes as a character really took ahold of my little self's brain so much, but from there I just kept studying him and the books anytime I could. And eventually I somehow ended up on YouTube watching the greatest Sherlock Holmes there ever was, and ever will be, move with grace upon the screen on my shitty Samsung tablet and capture me in a way that nothing or anyone had ever done so up to that point in my life. He became my hero and someone I became rather attached to as I felt I could relate to some of his characteristics and felt a little less alone with that fact in mind. Eight years later, here I am. Writing far too much for anyone to bother reading about the exact same man I watched on my screen back then, finding more and more comfort in not just him but the man who brought him to life so beautifully who I love too much for my own good, and having 'Sherlock' as my legitimate name and being addressed as such by everyone in my life. Sorry for the memoir but hopefully that answered your question <3.

30. I'd just like to thank everyone who consistently interacts with this account and provide so much great content for this small fandom to enjoy while most other platforms provide little to none. My life has taken a turn and put me on entirely new grounds where I'm yet to figure things out and left me somewhat scared and confused. But I can say with certainty that this fandom has kept my worried mind from running a little too fast for me to catch up and fall into a bad place. Everything from ACD hating Holmes with a passion and trying to kill him off only to have his own MUM tell him to resurrect him, to Jeremy Brett sending himself a fan letter because he was sad, has kept me on my feet and I cannot thank you enough for that. Thank you 100 times for sending in questions and giving my weird posts the time of day as it means the most, and feel free to send more or just ask anything in general and I'll absolutely try and answer. Apologies for writing so much once again lol I'll try to keep my answers short.

[theblondegoesabroad]

Day 96 - Three years in Belgium - a recap

Friday 4th November 2022

Words cannot begin to express how grateful I am for these last three years in Belgium. Not only did Belgium become a place to stay but a home. A place where there have been many ups and downs, tears and laughter, relaxing days and full on sport, pandemics and rule breaking, beer and boulets and everything in between. Everything that makes a place change from just an area on a map to a place full of connections, emotions, memories, a home.

I came to Belgium unsure, I was just out of uni and finally making money, enough to even start thinking about the kiwi dream of buying a house, and who was I to give it all up and move to the other side of the world with only the invitation to stay with Benoit and his family as a motivation. Was Belgium really that good? Did I really want to try find a job where I would have to perfect my French? Was Benoit – my Belgian model – really all that he cracked up to be? Would his family like me? And worse, would his sister like me?? Understandably there were doubts, pros and cons lists, questions, but in the end, late in May 2019 I jumped on a plane and headed off on my adventure. And honestly, I can tell you that Belgium was nothing like I imagined it to be. It was better.

It started pretty nicely, I arrived, Benoit picked me up in a very fancy car, (turns out it was Joelles), we had a quick hello with his family, then I napped for the afternoon, and woke up to a dinner party where I met Pablos flatmates and one of Benoits cousins, from the start, although jetlagged and overwhelmed, it was a good beginning, these were good people, and I began to feel my doubts fade away and just maybe, this was the right decision for me. Fast forward three years, and here we are having the same types of dinners with the same people, everyone coming to see us, but not because they are curious about Benoît’s Kiwi girlfriend, but because we are now leaving and those initial hellos developed into deep friendships, oh how time flies. These last few weeks have been full of dates, midday and evening, and climbing in between, I have never had a social calendar so full, and although I was sick, and was probably only awake due to the many cups of coffee per day consumption, I feel blessed. Blessed to have people to visit, share a final meal with those close to us, and to relish in the beauty of their friendships. Every invitation has touched me deeply, from dinners with Benoits family friends to the last shepards pie at the flat. How lucky we are.

We have had an eventful few years, and ones that I will never forget. Summer of 2019 was a busy one, Joelle and Paul were travelling quite a bit, which gave Benoit and I the chance to get comfortable together in Sprimont and for me to feel comfortable in my new home. We then had the major initiation into sport with my first camping holiday with the Tyber-Henry group. I suffered and missed the GnTs at the lake relaxing in the sun. But everyone was friendly and seemed to give me credit for my knack for learning peoples names. At least I had that going for me, as the sport wasn’t as easily learnt! Then we had a whirlwind trip around Europe with Jamie where we travelled all over Europe in a fastpaced adventure. For the coming years, I was so grateful that I was able to share a European experience with my little brother before covid hit, and although I regret that Mum and Dad never got the chance to visit us in Belgium, so I could share my life with them, at least Jamie got to experience it with us, heat wave and all.

Then covid, the confinements, the rules that nobody could keep up with because they changed pretty much every week, the constant working from home environment, the frustration with the regulations and incertitude for when it would all end. I considered briefly heading back to NZ at the start of covid, it seemed like all the kiwis abroad were heading back home, but I made the choice, albeit a tough one, to stay in Belgium with Ben and his family. Turns out it was another good decision as despite my job, I love my life in Belgium. The confinement’s just brought the family closer, and I love how close we have all become thanks to the many days and evenings spent in each other’s company.

Summer of 2020 and 2021 – although there was full covid regulations in place we managed to fake ourselves a few covid passes and we all headed back to our usual camping spot for summer. Luckily for the two years of covid in Europe they decided to ease back on the regulations each summer which mean we could go back to where it all kind of started for me, the integration into the family and the sports that I now love, a true area for comparison. Each year, our love for climbing grew and my connections with the family strengthened. 
Apart from the camping holidays, the big family reunions, secret covid parties/Christmases, and clandestine climbing gyms, we had so many lovely memories just at home, learning about each other, discussing life, repeating discussions that we had already had many times (much to Benoits pleasure), encouraging Jo to let Nazgul into the house for his final months, learning to crochet and sew, eating mince in every preparation possible, going for runs with Jo and Sophie, laughing about fake handicaps at Esneux, having an open beer fridge to all climbers that felt like passing by, heated crypto discussions, our famous Friday night pizza nights, being treated to breakfast in bed in Autumn with a fracassé au pomme, making soap, the occasional waffle on a Saturday morning that Paul would bring back from the markets. All those little things, and so many of those little details that make leaving so much harder.  

What started out as a questionable idea, turned out to be the greatest decision of my life, not only have we experienced so many wonderful memories, I have formed relationships that run so deeply my heart is heavy with the thought of having to have said goodbye. I have often said that I was grateful to be living with Joelle and Paul (for many reasons) but mainly for the fact that now we know each other so well, we can talk and laugh about anything and everything, and now I look forward to seeing them again as much as Benoit does. It was an absolute pleasure to be able to spend these last three years together, to become part of the family. To find a sister and best friend in Marie, a confident for everything, and someone who I will miss having in my life day to day. To find someone to relax, climb and laugh with in Paul, who is always keen to light a fire in winter and crack open a beer in summer (or any season for that matter). To find my running buddy, fellow sewing student, and salad maker in JojoRabbit, who has taught me many things about myself and life during these last years. And to find Pablo, probably the opposite to me in personalities, but someone who I admire for his enthusiasm, self-assurance, guru advice and kite surfing lessons. And recently to Clem, a fine addition to the Henry clan. And to everyone else, the list is too long to site here, but everyone we have met from our climbing friends, Benoits childhood or scouting friends, our village and the extended familes. Each person has helped make these last few years better, each connection, each smile, each moment spent together, are memories that I will cherish. I don’t think I have the proper words to sum up such a period of my life, three years jam packed with experiences is too hard to describe with just a few paragraphs, but I am thankful for everything that I have been lucky enough to be a part of and I can only hope that this phase of our lives is not finished with a full stop, but a comma, in the hopes that there will be more to come. So for perhaps the final time... Love Kate xxxx ,

But wait there is more, although theblondegoesabroad will be finishing, Benoit and I have now even more “fans” in Belgium, so we will be starting a new blog together in NZ to keep everyone updated with weekly updates on our life – see you there - Kenovele.tumblr.com

[anntoldst0ries]

Coda (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, Chapter 7 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count: 3.1k Rating: 18+ (NSFW) Summary: Things got heated between Dr Ramsey and Dr Valentine during Bloom’s event. Will they finish what they’ve started?

Warning: This fic contains adult content, don’t read if you’re a minor.

A/N: Happy Easter, folks! So, let’s pretend this horror of a dress (which, let’s be honest, even Bloom’s PA wouldn’t wear) never happened. Also, this is my first time ever publishing NSFW fic, so please be understanding 🙈 That being said, I always appreciate feedback and am forever grateful for all of you, because you help me grow 💜

Huge shoutout to Bree @jamespotterthefirst who was so lovely to pre-read it and actually encouraged me to post, girl you are golden and I just cannot thank you enough! We are all so lucky to have you 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼😍

Even though he was trying to be sensible about this, every molecule of sense left him during his left palm’s chance encounter with Noelle Valentine’s bare thigh.

But has anything about their touching bodies ever been truly accidental?

Although, if he was honest, this was just the culmination point.

His rational mind’s death by a thousand cuts.

It all started when she entered the premises of the venue in her provocative dress and he had to blink rapidly a few times, thinking that his eyes were deceiving him, breath trapped in his throat.

Cut.

Her every step gracious and light, as if she’s been the human embodiment of a wood nymph.

As if she’s stolen the world's entire allure.

Cut.

Her silky waves, cascading like a waterfall - he wanted to dive into them, lose himself in them.

Drown in them.

Cut.

She was a prodigy, a goddess descending from mount Olympus, who, for some mysterious reason, decided to grace the mortals with her overwhelming presence.

Some guests were standing agape, the others smiled wide and showered her with rain of compliments; a few people had tiny lightnings of jealousy flickering in their eyes.

But no one was left indifferent by her grand entrance.

Strangely, Ethan didn’t feel jealousy.

In fact, he couldn’t be more proud.

His eyes, like x-rays, have relentlessly been reminding him of the perfect shapes hiding under the layers of the sophisticated, silky material. In this regard, he envied everyone else. Unlike him, imagination was all they had.

He knew. He touched. He teased. He tasted. He caressed.

Sometimes, ignorance was truly a bliss.

Today, ignorance was certainly not going to help him get through this evening.

* * * * * *

He almost lost it on the balcony.

Then, the sudden appearance of musicians interrupted them.

He wasn’t startled.

He was angry.

Freaking Bloom and his jazz band, he thought to himself. How on earth was he constantly able to rain on Ethan’s parade, even when they weren’t physically in the same room?

Noelle’s pearly laugh dissipated all thoughts in an instant, her impossibly beautiful face now turned to him. Entwining their hands, Ethan knew he had no choice but to play along.

Inside, he was laughing out of the other side of his mouth.

They were coming back to the room full of buffoons and right now her presence was as comforting as it was driving him further into insanity.

Before he was even able to sit down, someone has already slipped a drink into his hand and when Ethan was ready to sigh and curse the fate that sent him to Bloom’s 4th circle of hell*, a sudden realisation struck him.

This evening wasn’t lost yet.

In fact, it wasn’t lost at all.

And as he was thinking, a small smile ran past his lips.

The answer was right there in front of him.

* * * * * *

“Dr Ramsey, you’re still here?” Ethan had heard the unwanted and all too loud voice, followed by an even more unwanted pat on the back, accompanied by his nemesis’ reddened face and alcohol breath.

He plastered a fake smile, mustering the remains of politeness.

“You didn’t strike me as a party type, I thought you’d be making excuses a long time ago.” Leland grinned like a Cheshire cat. For a second, an outsider could have almost thought these two hold each other in high regard.

Almost being the key word.

“This is the most pleasant surprise.” Leland continued. “You see, I am rarely wrong, so it’s one of these moments when not only am I wrong, but also being wrong actually makes me happy.” He laughed as if he’s just delivered the best punch line in the world.

“Well, we are representing the hospital after all and I wouldn’t be too much of an example if I left before the rest of my team.” Ethan put on his best charming smile, not without a superhuman effort.

You don’t play the game, you play the opponent, he reminded himself.

“It looks like we are finally agreeing on something, doctor.” A sleazy smile ran past his lips, as he left to mingle with another circle. Inside, Ethan shuddered. There was just something about Bloom that didn’t add up and he was yet to figure what it was… but now his focus shifted to something else entirely.

Just like he predicted (or diagnosed, if you will) with every sip, every passing minute, the guests were falling deeper and deeper into inebriation - the excellent staff made sure that every time someone emptied their glass, a new dose of liquid happiness was ready for them. Dr Ramsey knew this must have been Bloom’s doing.

They may have had money and resources but during these events, they were like wild animals held captive and then suddenly let loose. Their problem was that they thought money could pay for everything, but it certainly couldn’t buy back dignity, redeem bad manners and erase terrible first impressions.

Tonight, he will use this flawed logic to his advantage.

* * * * * *

Noelle was sitting across the table, not even trying to hide anymore that whatever the tech moguls were trying to sell, she wasn’t buying.

Neither their fancy apps nor their bullshit.

Ethan finished yet another glass of scotch and stood up, his height towering over everyone else at the table.

“Well, it’s about time I was moving. Thank you for a very… revelatory evening, gentlemen.” The other table occupiers didn’t even pay too much attention and murmured something, shifting their focus back to the beautiful female doctor. “Dr Valentine, can I offer you a ride home? That is, if you were planning to leave soon…”

“That would be great, thank you, Dr Ramsey.” If her eyes could speak up, they would have definitely thanked him for throwing her a lifebelt.

“Fantastic, meet me outside in 10 minutes then? I have…one more business to attend to beforehand.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what it was — the look, the pause between words, the accentuation - but something told her that whatever business he meant, she was very much a part of it.

Her suspicion has soon turned out to be justified, as his tall figure wandered off and disappeared around the corner.

A corner he had absolutely no reason to disappear around.

The younger doctor waited a minute before making her excuses and assuring her companions that a future partnership with Edenbrook couldn’t look any brighter, Noelle turned around and followed the man in black suit.

Walking as fast as her hurting feet and long gown were allowing her, Noelle entered a long corridor at the back of the fancy restaurant and had to admit that even this place, which must have simply led to different utility rooms, looked spectacular and stylish. Almost like those fairytale corridors, which lead to other dimensions.

But only if a voice summons you and guides you there.

Just as the thought popped into her head, a firm grip tightened around one of her wrists, making her jump.

When she turned around, his index finger was on his lips in a clear message.

Quiet.

They only made a couple of steps before he cautiously opened the door and rushed her into a room. It looked like a sophisticated pantry or a wine cellar and she thought the stock must have been worth more than her annual salary.

The room was dark, bar for the little window, which wasn’t much helpful with providing the light, given that the world outside was hugged by the arms of the night.

“Ethan, what’s goi—“ She never had a chance to finish the sentence, before he took her breath away with his lips, not for the first time this evening. He didn’t stop there, pushing her towards the counter, like a famished animal backing its victim into the corner.

“You said you’ll be looking for an encore, didn’t you?” She was trying to accustom her sight to the darkness, the gleam in the blue of his eyes her only reference point.

“Although, if I’m not mistaken and my opera knowledge is still sharp, I think coda** is actually the word you’re looking for.”

She stilled, a shiver running through her spine, the electric feel both hot and cold. An audible swallow filled the silence that lingered after his words, not for long as he continued his monologue.

“And I’m sorry, Dr Valentine, but I’m not a patient man today…I’ve exhausted all my patience on senseless endeavours this evening.” Almost as if to prove the sincerity of his words, he started moving towards her, his every gesture deliberate; there was no space for randomness.

Every word hit her like a wrecking ball, her remaining senses overkeen. She couldn’t rely on her eyes anymore and her hearing, smell and touch suddenly became heavily heightened, almost supernatural.

She couldn’t reflect on this for too long though, as he backed her further towards the counter, blocking her moves.

“H-how… how do you know no one’s gonna come in?”

Even in the dark, she could see the corners of his lips going up, in a smile which wasn’t affectionate. It was dark, almost sinister.

And hot as hell.

Ethan leaned into her and dropped his voice even lower than she thought was humanly possible, whispering straight into her ear.

“I don’t, but… my diagnostic instincts rarely fail me, Noelle Valentine. Plus… that’s a part of the thrill, isn’t it?” He paused for a second to gloat upon the effect his ministrations had on her. Dr Ramsey enjoyed controlling the situation - more than he’d care to admit.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t fantasised of this, of losing yourself in me completely… except you couldn’t, because of a tiny detail, a stubborn question in your pretty head… what if someone walks in on us? What if it happens when you are overwhelmed by pure ecstasy, knowing there is no coming back, that the only way is forward…”

Ethan knew immediately that these words hit the jackpot. If she wasn’t before, she was definitely shaking now, her treacherous body betraying her in all ways possible.

That’s how she knew all these months ago. Maybe her mind could, but her body could never lie to Ethan Freaking Ramsey.

Ethan’s hands started roaming her body, discovering his favourite promised land, as if he had not been touching her on that balcony earlier, as if he’d never touched her before.

Because for him, every time with her was first and last. And he hoped things would always feel this way.

“Who are you and what have you done to Ethan Ramsey?”

She couldn’t see the smirk that appeared on his painfully handsome face.

“If I were you, I’d be more worried about what’s to be done to you, Dr Valentine.”

With this, he lifted her up by grabbing her ass and sat her on the counter, pressing her back against the cold wall, which felt strangely warm against her body.

Or not so strangely, given there was a fire inside of her.

Securing her neck with his palm, he pulled her closer for a long, wet and greedy kiss, the obscene sounds of their mouths filling the otherwise silent space.

“Touch me.” A silent plea fell off her lips, her voice a quiet sob. Usually, he’d enjoy teasing her forever, playing little games, checking how far she would go to get what she wanted. But not tonight.

Tonight… he’s gonna give her exactly what she wants.

Because he wants it even more.

His middle and index finger slipped past the silky material of the dress and the band of her underwear. Noelle parted her lips slightly and drew a shallow breath, waiting in anticipation. Her wish was granted a couple of seconds later, when he ran up and down her folds, eliciting a small, guttural moan, which he was sure would forever be his favourite sound in the whole world.

Before she was even able to get used to the feeling, he pushed 2 digits into her without warning, making her eyes wide with amazement. But the movement stilled a second later. Maybe he couldn’t not tease her after all.

“Please.” The sound that came out of her was almost inaudible, yet extremely high pitched. Even if he tried, Ethan simply didn’t know the words that could come close to describing what these reactions were doing to him.

“You know I will give you the world… I will give you anything you want, Noelle. You just need to tell me what it is that you desire.”

She didn’t know what was the biggest turn on - his sultry voice dripping with desire, the feeling of his digits inside her or the well thought out choice of words. But it gave her an answer immediately.

“Fuck me with your fingers, Ethan.”

There was something shy and yet confident about the way she said it, he couldn’t explain it. Whatever it was, it made him even harder, which, at this point he thought wasn’t humanly possible. Although he was painfully aware of his own desire, he couldn’t rid neither her nor himself of the pleasure of watching her come undone on his fingers.

“As you wish, my naughty girl.”

His fingers started moving in come-hither motion, first slowly and teasingly. Just when she opened her mouth to beg him again, his thumb circled her swollen clit and pressed the sensitive bundle of nerves with precision, sending her mind into overdrive. She had to bite her own shoulder to suppress what she was sure would turn into a scream.

“Fuck… yes, right there.” She was an incoherent mess, while his fingers curved and touched places that made her eyes roll. “Faster, Ethan.” She commanded weakly as his fingers picked up the face, going in and out of her furiously.

She was pleading and moaning for god knows what and her hands were desperate to grip something, just anything.

Soon, he knew as well as she did that the peak was close, for her body kept moving and shaking on its own accord.

“I’m…this…you…” She cried, making even less sense than before.

“I know. Let go… let go now, Noelle. I know you needed this so much. Come for me now, baby.”

Sinking her teeth, this time in his shoulder, and tightening her grip on him, Noelle clenched around his fingers, the feeling so arousing that he thought he’s going to explode himself. He had to hold her with all the strength he had in his free arm, as she was all over the place, trembling, cursing, riding out what must have been one of the strongest orgasms she’s ever experienced.

When the feeling settled, Ethan slowly loosened his grip over her and slid his fingers out, bringing them to his lips. The taste of her astounded him every single time.

“In case I haven’t told you before… nothing can compare to the way you taste. Maybe apart from the way you feel, but I need to check to be certain.”

Before he was able to do so himself, she reached for his belt and unbuckled it hastily, letting his pants pool at his feet. Ethan hissed when she was ridding him of the last layer separating them, his throbbing member oversensitive to the slightest touch. He responded in kind, slipping her thongs down.

He stared at her as if he’s forgotten how to blink before saying:

“If I were you, I’d hold on tight.”

She grabbed the edge of the counter and tightened her grip, leaning onto her other arm, palm pressed flat onto the surface. Ethan positioned himself in front of her and the moment his tip met her sex, a wild lust overtook him completely, from top to bottom. He pushed hard, their bodies finally connecting.

He didn’t waste time to make himself or her feel comfortable. Right now, he wasn’t a guest - he was the invader, the intruder, the conqueror.

“Fuck, it’s impossible you’re still so tight.”

In answer, she clenched her muscles around him even more, earning herself a throaty sound.

“You little minx.”

She was going to be the death of him and what an epic death it would be.

“Ethan, fuck me like you mean it.” Noelle bit her lower lip, knowing the effect this tiny gesture always had on him. He didn’t need anything more. The sound of fast thrusts soon filled the air, making it thick and dense. The race started, two lovers chasing their gratification like it was the last thing they were ever going to do.

This wasn’t vanilla.

It was chilli, whiskey neat and flames.

A dance of carnal desires, intense and salient, leading to the grand finale. Nothing finesse, quite the contrary - a satiation of the most primal of human desires.

Ethan kept thrusting into her so deep that she felt blood when she had to bite her lip, trying to stop the animalistic scream trapped in her throat, begging to be released. She felt every vein, every nerve inside of her, every place he was reaching. Her hands and arms hurt, but her mind, currently controlled by Ethan’s cock moving in and out of her in killer pace, has overridden any physical sensations other than pure pleasure.

“So…so close.” She panted weakly, rolling her eyes as waves of pleasure kept crashing on her.

Leaning into her, he caught her earlobe and as he kissed her ear, Ethan groaned. “You’re so,” thrust, “fucking”, thrust, “hot”, thrust, “when”, thrust, “you come.”

And with that, she came.

Her whole body arched and hot white pleasure turned every cell of her body into bliss. It was like jumping into the pool on a sunny day, submerging yourself completely and then just… floating.

Ethan followed her instantly, her climax triggering his own. They were holding onto each other for dear life, compounding the intensity of their sensations and silently praying for this moment to never, ever stop.

When their breathing returned back to normal a few moments later, the older doctor pushed aside strands of her hair that stuck to her face and then cupped her cheeks.

“You ok?” The tenderness in his voice almost made her heart stop.

As if she hasn’t already been dead.

“Ok? No, I’m not ok. I am pretty fucking great.”

“That you are.” He smiled wide. “You are pretty fucking great.”

“Well you are not too bad yourself. How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I died and was reborn, all at the same time.”

They laughed at each other’s choice of words, still in a tight embrace.

“Ready for the next part, Ramsey?”

“Next part?”

“Now we need to sneak out of here for real.”

* * *

* This is a reference to Dante’s poem “Inferno” from “Divine Comedy”

** coda - The final part of a play, film, or narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved

Tag 🏷 list: @starrystarrytrouble @genevievemd @sophxwithers @terrm9 @maurine07 @the-pale-goddess @drakewalkerfantasy @iemcpbchoices @oldminniemcg @schnitzelbutterfingers @mercury84choices @lsvdw-blog @archxxronrookie @queencarb @qrkowna @utterlyinevitable @lucy-268 @udishaman @stygianflood @romereadingshop @romewritingshop @caseyvalentineramsey @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @liaromancewriter @mrs-ramsey @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @fayeswiftie @tsrookie @lisha1valecha @alina-yol-ramsey @stateofgracious @lem-20 @fireycookie

[yeenybeanies]

A Little Lost

it’s star wars day!! what a fine day to have my heart torn from my chest with the clone wars finale :’) WELL THIS IS VERY OLD LMAO it’s been in my drafts since may 4th i did not proofread this & i probably will not do so until tomorrow EDIT i have proofread it & made my tweaks & it is Good To Go :>

star wars | rex & pomfree ( oc ) 

4,395 words

mild language warnings

reblogs > likes!! feel free to leave comments in the tags!! thanks!!

Breathe! Air and dust and dirt rush into his lungs. The clone jolts, consciousness returning like a punch to the face. If only it was a simple punch that knocked him out, though. That would have been way less painful . . ..

Soft grunts and groans fill the air as the clone trooper pulls himself from the him-shaped indentation in the dirt. He can still stand. He can move his arms and his back and his neck. Nothing seems broken ( miraculously ), but everything is sore regardless.

“ This is Captain Rex; can anyone hear me? I was––– ”  static. He looks down to the comlink on his forearm, all the buttons smashed and broken. Useless. He grimaces, then turns his attention to the surrounding jungle. Where is he? Where’s the ship? . . . Where is his helmet? A cursory glance at his immediate surroundings shows no signs of the blue-painted headgear.

Rex stands up with a final groan and takes a few steps, searching for signs of––well, of anything. Smoke, blaster fire, voices, tracks . . .. The ship was going down, and he fell out of it before it crashed. Surely it’s not too far off. He curses a little under his breath; the jungle canopies of this planet are too damn high and thick for him to be able to see anything more than a few feet away. The only option now, as far as he can see, is to start walking in the direction he thinks the ship landed in.

“ Hello? Anyone out there? ”  Even cupping his hands around his mouth doesn’t help his yells travel very far. The jungle is tight. It’s a hassle just to walk around. Rex grumbles as his boot catches on a ground vine for the umpteenth time. He hasn’t tripped yet, but––ack! Spoke too soon. Just seconds later, he’s snagged again, and falls forward, onto his hands and knees. Teeth clenched, the trooper slams a fist into the spongy jungle floor, allowing his frustration to vent for just a moment. How the hell is he going to get out of this one?

Calm. He needs to be calm. Getting mad isn’t going to solve anything. ( Blast, he sounds like a Jedi. ) Rex takes a breath and tugs his foot free yet again. He shifts himself into a crouch, runs a hand over his short, blond hair, and tries once more to assess his surroundings. In every direction, there is just more jungle. But––oh? He catches a glimpse of white amidst all the green undergrowth to his right. One brow raised, Rex pushes his way through the brush to investigate. He parts the vines and leaves and finds . . . yes! His helmet! At least something is going his way in this god-forsaken jungle. Rex leans forward to pick the familiar item up, silently praising that he managed to stumble across it ( literally ). As he brings it to his head to put it on, though, a startled cry makes him jump. Rex looks up to see a little . . . creature dangling from the helmet lip. It screams when it looks at him, and he yelps right back, immediately dropping both it and the helmet. The latter clatters to the jungle floor, but the former––unexpectedly, the former drifts down in a much more controlled manner, gliding on thin membranes––or perhaps clothing––between its arms & legs. It lands a few feet away and stares up at Rex, eyes wide.

What the hell?

Rex stares back for a long moment. It . . . isn’t running away. It’s not attacking either, though. It’s a curious-looking little thing. It looks almost human, though significantly smaller––maybe five, six inches tall at most. Slowly, tentatively, Rex kneels down to retrieve his helmet, though he doesn’t take his eyes off of the creature.

“ Easy now . . . ”  he says, hoping to placate any potential hostilities.  “ Not gonna hurt you. I’m with the Grand Army of the Republic. ”  Hell, he doesn’t even know if the damn thing speaks Basic.

“ You are a clone. ”  Ah. So it does speak. Rex blinks, a little surprised, but nods his head. The creature looks up, way up to the high canopies.  “ You came from the crashed ship? ” 

“ Huh––erm, yeah. Yeah, I, uh, fell out of it. Did you see where it landed? ”  A spark of hope flares up in his chest. This little critter might be the key to finding his comrades!

They shake their head––a gesture that nearly goes unnoticed due to their size.  “ Knocked me down from the top when it came through. Best way to see would be . . .. ”  They point up. This time, Rex follows their gaze, confused. 

The top? This thing was at the top? The trees have to be a couple hundred feet high! How could they have gotten all the way up there? So many questions flood the trooper’s mind, but he shakes his head. Focus.

“ I gotta climb all the way up there? ”  The very thought is daunting. ( Really, how could something so small make it up there? ) Rex gives the creature a disbelieving look, but they just nod right back at him.

“ It is the best chance, ”  they assure.  “ I need to go up too. It’s dangerous down here for us. I need to get back home. ” 

Rex narrows his eyes.  “ So what you really need is for me to take you up there. There’s no benefit at all for me. Just a waste of time. ” 

“ No! ”  The creature waves their little hands, alarmed.  “ No! You really can see! And it’s easier to move up there! ”  There’s obvious panic in their voice, but Rex isn’t sure if it’s because of him, or because he might leave them. He rolls his eyes and takes another look up the giant tree trunks.

One thing is for certain: he cannot see anything down there. Flares wouldn’t go above the treetops either, so they’d be useless from the ground. Rex contemplates, tossing the idea around in his head, and wrinkles his nose when he reaches a decision.

“ Alright. I’m going up there. I’ll take you too, but if this turns out to be for nothing, I’m gonna drop you back down. ”  It’s an empty threat––something the little creature quickly picks up on. They beam up at him, looking just elated. Rex dons his ( now unoccupied ) helmet and . . .––well, he isn’t sure if he should just grab them, or if he should go about carrying them some other way. Thankfully, they solve the problem for him. They’re fast; they race to his boot and scale his leg like it’s nothing, and then the rest of him, all the way up to his shoulder pauldron. He wasn’t expecting that, but . . . it works.

“ Right . . .. Hold on tight. ”  Rex pulls a blaster from his holster and attaches an ascension cable. The lowest branch on the tree before him is . . . still pretty damn high up. His grimace deepens; he isn’t sure that the cable is long enough to reach, but he takes aim and shoots. It flies out with a hiss, racing parallel to the trunk for a good few seconds before . . . yes! It just barely reaches  the branch’s underside. Were Rex a few inches shorter, he’s not sure it would have made it. 

One last check to make sure the creature is secure on his shoulder ( somehow they seem even smaller up close ), then Rex starts the climb. He has to pull himself up the trunk a few steps so he can secure the cable to his belt, but then he’s able to activate the wench that gradually pulls them up.

“ So. ”  Even with the wench, it’s still going to take a while to scale a tree this tall. Rex keeps his eyes upward, but he does nod slightly towards his company.  “ Got a name? ” 

“ Yes. I am Pomfree. My friends call me Pom. ”

“ Pom. My name’s Rex. You, uh . . . you said you live up in the canopies? How’d you get up there to begin with? ”

“ Oh, my kind comes from up in the treetops. We are many tribes that have always been up there. Those that fall to the floor . . . ”  Rex feels them shudder,  “ usually they do not come back up. It is dangerous. And impossible for us to climb so far. ”

“ No kidding . . .. ”  Rex isn’t sure he would be able to climb this thing without an ascension cable, let alone someone like Pom.  “ You can glide, though, right? ”

“ Yes, but . . . ”  they pull one of the membranes from their sides––Rex can now see from his peripherals that it is indeed clothing––and show a stitched-up tear, presumably recent.  “ I tore it on a branch in the confusion, and I hit my head shortly after, so . . .. ”

So that’s how they got to the ground. Rex feels a pang of sympathy for the little creature. He knows all about being thrown into hostile environments, but he’s a soldier. Pom, he imagines, is not.

“ Why are you here? ”  Their question pulls Rex from his thoughts. He shoots them a glance, a brow raised under his helmet.

“ Told you: I fell from my ship while it was––– ”

“ No––why are you on our planet? We are not a part of the war . . . are we? ”  There’s a twinge of fear in their voice––something Rex is, unfortunately, quite familiar with. This terrible war has ravaged many planets.

“ Erm . . . well, the Separatists have established a fort here, despite your apparent neutrality, so we’ve come in to deal with it. ”  That’s putting things a little lightly. He doesn’t really want to scare Pom more.  “ It’s pretty far from here, though. Don’t think you’ll be seeing any part of it anytime soon––if at all. ”  Hopefully. Civilian casualties happen, but Rex still would like to minimize them wherever and whenever he can.

His answer seems to calm Pom, if only a little. They look up the cable that’s pulling them along. They’ve almost reached the branch. Once Rex gets a hold on it, Pom moves to somewhere a bit more stable so the clone can have his full range of motion and climb his way up to the branch’s top. It’s easier said than done; the damn thing is thicker than Rex is tall. He nearly slips once, and gets both of their hearts racing. He does assure Pom that he’s okay and he’s got them, and manages to make it to the dorsal surface. Thank God the bark is rough and filled with handholds.

They’re not even halfway up the tree, though. Rex cranes his neck, looking up at the vertical distance still ahead of them, and sighs. The droop of his shoulders makes Pom scramble for a moment to maintain balance.

“ This . . . is gonna take a while. ”  Dismayed but determined, the captain readies his cable again, takes aim, and shoots for the next-nearest branch, way high up. It’s going to take, he suspects, at least three or four more cable trips to get up to where they need to be.

Pom is fairly chatty, full of questions. Rex answers what he can. Being an older clone, he’s a bit more aware of the universe around him, and of the nuances of the war. The little being watches him with those wide, curious eyes, soaking up all he has to say. It’s cute, in a way; Rex just wishes he had more to tell them than stories and news about violence and suffering. He’s sorry that the war has come to this planet.

Once they reach the underside of the second branch, the two rinse and repeat as they’d done with the first. Rex expels a breath bordering on exasperation as he looks upward. Only now are they about halfway up the gigantic tree. He notices that, at their current height, their surroundings look different than they had on the jungle floor. It’s brighter, if only marginally so. The foliage is comprised more of leaves and vines, as opposed to the heavy roots and trunks and ferns on the jungle floor. Rex pushes past a curtain of moss as he walks along the bough, searching for another spot to aim his cable.

“ Wait. ”  Pom knocks their little fist on the side of the trooper’s helmet.

“ What? You see something? ”  He does not like the sudden worry in their voice. Reflexively he rests a hand on the hilt of one of his blasters.

“ No, I hear . . . –––get down! ” 

Rex ducks just in time. Mere moments after their warning, a beast erupts from the foliage, its claws and teeth just barely missing his head. Rex crawls forward a few feet and twists onto his seat. Whatever it is, it seems to be only about half the size of a man, but it is mean. It looks like an alien cross between feline and reptile, and sports two sets of climbing arms and a smaller set of what appear to be prey-grabbing arms. He doesn’t get to observe much more of it before it launches at him, all arms outstretched. Rex falls backward, letting the beast sail over him again. He quickly flips himself over and jumps to his feet, ready to move, when a sharp cry brings his attention back to his passenger. The little being clings to his pauldron, legs flailing. Dammit. He’d nearly forgotten about them in the–––

“ Look out! ” 

Rex throws up an arm just as the beast reaches him, its teeth clamping down on his gauntlet. A few reach his skin, but he pays it no mind, much more distracted by the claws slashing at him.

No . . ..

The beast isn’t aiming for him; it’s aiming for Pom! The little one yelps and struggles to maintain their hold amidst the panic and the pandemonium. Rex shoves the creature off with a heavy knee to its gut and, without really thinking, grabs Pom. They squeak and struggle in his hold, but he keeps firm. He turns and dashes to put some distance between them and the creature while its still recuperating, his free hand aiming the cable launcher upward. There isn’t any time to pick an optimal branch; he selects one that looks suitable enough, shoots, and starts ascending as soon as it hooks in.

“ I’ve gotcha, kid, ”  Rex says,  “ that thing isn’t gonna–––augh! ” 

Sharp pains pierce the flesh between his armor. The beast jumped up after them, and has its claws dug into his left leg. With both hands occupied, the trooper can only curse and kick at it, quickly growing desperate to shake it off. It’s not interested in him in the slightest; it’s trying to climb him to reach Pom, now held as far out as possible.

Bastard. Rex grits his teeth and rams his heel into the creature’s face. His grip on the blaster is starting to slip; he needs to ditch this thing fast.

“ Pom, I’m gonna throw you, ”  he says. He doesn’t give the little one any time to protest before he launches them upward. Their fear-filled yell doesn’t sit well with him, but he’s left with one hand free to grab his other blaster. He shoots the beast in the shoulder, making it shriek out in pain, and pistol whips it right along its temple. Its claws unhook from his person, leaving it to fall a few feet and land bodily onto a branch below. It’s still alive, but stunned, and hopefully convinced to leave them be. Rex watches it for a second, then snaps his head upwards, eyes searching the foliage.

“ Pom? “  He doesn’t see them, which sends a pang of worry through his brain. They fixed the tear in their gliding suit; surely they managed to slow their fall . . . right?  “ Where are you, kid?  That thing’s gone now. Pom? ” 

The longer the silence persists, the more unsettled Rex grows. He stops his ascent and pulls himself up the cable enough to hook it to his belt, then looks down to the branches below. The creature is nowhere to be seen, but the same can be said for Pom.

“ Hey, Pom! Come on, kid! Tell me you’re alright! ”  What if they fell back to the floor? What if the thing ultimately managed to snatch them and run off? Dank Farrik, what if–––

“ Rex! ”  The tiny voice snaps his attention upward. Relief washes over him when he spots them perched atop a branch several feet above him. They jump, gliders spread, and drift down towards him. He meets them with both hands outstretched, giving them a platform to land on. Immediately he can feel the shivers coursing through their body. Another pang spikes in his mind. Carefully, he draws them nearer.

“ Pom, I––listen, kid, I’m sorry. I should’a given you some more warning. You alright? ”  Other than their pallid features, they don’t look any worse for wear physically. They nod, still shaking.

“ It’s––n-no, I am okay. I am just . . . I have never seen a grekesa up close . . . and I never want to again. ”  They pull their gliders in and sit in his hands, hugging their knees to their chest. Rex presses his lips together. It does make him feel a little better to know that his actions didn’t scare them so much as the beast. As a soldier, he’s faced things far worse than that  “ grekesa, ”  but he recognizes that he is both battle-hardened and far to big for most things to make a meal out of. Pom would be but a snack.

“ I’ve got you, kid. We ought’a keep moving before another one shows up. “  Were that to happen, he’d drop the bastard where it stands. Rex deposits Pom onto his shoulder where they quickly huddle up to his neck, and resumes their ascent.

Pom is much quieter now, but, after a few minutes, Rex feels their tension start to ease. A part of him wants to reach up and comfort them, but he’s not sure how he’d do that. What, would he rub their back or shoulder with his finger? Give them a little hair ruffle? How would he comfort someone so small?

“ Thank you, ”  they say, drawing Rex from his thoughts.

“ Hm? What for? ” 

Pom shrugs, though the gesture goes unseen.  “ For saving me from the grekesa. For helping me get back home. ”

A tinge of warmth fills the trooper’s heart. He shakes his head.  “ Don’t mention it. In fact, don’t thank me just yet; we still have a ways to go before we get to the canopy. ”

As they climb ever higher into the treetops, Rex takes note of the drastic changes in scenery. The difference between the jungle floor and the upper levels is like night and day––literally. While the floor was quite dark, at this height, there isn’t nearly as much foliage to block out the sunlight. Something as simple as a bit of sun has Rex feeling more optimistic that he’ll be able to see his fallen ship when they reach the top.

Once they reach their next branch, Rex pauses a moment and removes his helmet. He’s mindful of Pom as he does so, careful not to jostle them too much. He fishes into one of his pockets to retrieve a rations bar. All of this crashing and climbing and fighting with local fauna has his stomach growling. Before he takes a bite, though, he breaks off a piece and offers it to his companion, who gratefully accepts.

“ Shouldn’t be too much longer, ”  Rex says after swallowing down a few bites.  “ One more good placement of the cable and we’ll be up near the top. Any of this starting to look familiar to you? ”

Pom finishes off their piece of ration, then stands up on the trooper’s shoulder, one hand to his neck for balance.  “ Hmm . . .. Not really. I have never left the canopy before. But . . .. ”  They leap from their perch, gliders unfolding. They drift over to a cluster of leaves on a neighboring branch. Rex watches with one brow raised as they inspect the branch, looking for who-knows-what.

“ Aha! ”  They declare. They hold up a leaf that, to Rex, looks like any other dead leaf. He blinks, confused.  “ This is from my tribe! We must be approaching one of the lower villages! ”

“ That leaf . . .? ”  He tilts his head, still lost.  “ How do you know it’s not just . . . some leaf? ”

“ Because! ”  Pom jumps and glides back to Rex, who holds out a hand for them to land on. They hold up the leaf to him.  “ Each tribe grows special leaves that we graft onto trees to mark our territories. This one––see these? ”  they point to the veins in the leaf, which swirl in intricate patterns.  “ Over the generations, my tribe has designed this pattern and color. It is unique to us. ”

“ Uh hunh . . .. ”  Rex squints. Upon closer inspection, it does stand out. However, other than the color––a bright red to contrast the greens––he wouldn’t think anything of it. Then again, this isn’t his culture; he wouldn’t think to think anything of it.  “ That’s good news then. Means we’re gettin’ somewhere. ”

Pom beams up at the trooper. They scurry along his arm, back to his shoulder, and settle down for the continued journey. Rex finishes off the last of his ration bar, replaces his helmet, and takes aim at another branch. This one, he hopes, will be the last stretch. He clips himself in and activates the wench, thus resuming their ascent.

It doesn’t take long for Pom to point out more markers of their tribe. There are carvings and paintings in the bark, more clusters of leaves, and even a few abandoned homes––all of which would have gone under Rex’s radar were he alone. The more he sees, the more he realizes how resourceful Pom’s people must be to live up here.

The excitement and wonder come to a grinding halt, however, when the ascension cable lurches. Rex only has a moment to realize what’s happening before it comes loose. After a brief fall and an undignified yell, he manages to catch himself on a branch, hands clinging to the bark and legs dangling.

“ Dammit! Pom, are you––– ”  He looks to his shoulder to find it unoccupied. He isn’t given any time to process this, though. A sharp smack to the side of his helmet draws the trooper’s attention to his left, where he finds four little humanoids, each armed with a slingshot.  “ What the hell . . .? ”

“ Stop! Leave him alone! ”  Calls a familiar voice from up above. Pom drifts down, landing atop Rex’s helmet.  “ He is my friend! ”

The four beings pause, each of them looking shocked and confused.  “ Pomfree? Is that you? ”  One asks. All at once, they rush forward towards Rex and Pom. He has to stop himself from flinching as they scale his arms and shoulders. The one that spoke clambers up to meet Pom on his helmet where the two embrace. Rex feels . . . awkward.

“ We saw you fall into the dark beyond! ”  The one––Rex assumes them to be the leader of the group––says.

“ I did! I fell all the way to the floor, ”  they say.  “ I tried to stop myself, but I tore my wing and hit my head and then I woke up down there. This one––– ”  they pat Rex’s helmet,  “ helped me back up. He saved me from a grekesa too! ” 

Though he can’t see any of the little ones from where they are on his person, he can feel all of their eyes on him. Rex clears his throat.  “ Er, hi. I hate to break up the reunion, but do you mind letting me pull myself up? I don’t really want to stay hanging here. ” 

Pom is the first to disembark. The others are quick to follow. Once they’re all off, Rex hauls himself up to straddle the branch. He breathes a sigh of relief, and rolls his shoulders to work out some of the stiffness from holding himself in place.

All five of the little beings stare at him. Pom is the only one that does not look wary. Rex can’t blame them, he supposes. He clears his throat again.  “ Right. I am Captain Rex of the Army of the Grand Republic. It’s true, I met Pom down on the jungle floor. “

“ He is good, ”  Pom insists, though their companions do not seem fully convinced. They huff and approach Rex, frowning. They climb up onto his thigh and gesture to him.  “ Show your face. Let them see you. ”

With some hesitancy, the trooper complies. He pulls his helmet off and tucks it under his arm. This somehow feels even more awkward.

“ Look, I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than we already have. I’m just trying to find my squadron; Pom told me I’d have a better shot at seeing where they landed up here. Only fair I bring them up with me. ”

The four regard him with scrutiny, then huddle up to whisper amongst themselves. Every few seconds, one of them glances back at him before returning to the conversation. Rex grimaces.

“ Well, Pom, I think this is where we’re gonna have to part ways. ”  Gently, he scoops the little being off of his leg and sets them down on the branch. Before he can pull his hand away, though, they catch his thumb and wrap their arms around it. This, he realizes, is the closest thing to a hug they can share. He glances to the group, all of whom are staring at him again, then gently lets his fingers curl around their back.

“ Hey now, no need for any waterworks, kid, ”  he says, mustering a half-smile.  “ Glad I could get you back to your people. You be good now, alright? ”

Pom gives his thumb a squeeze before letting go. They take the leaf they’d kept from when they’d first found signs of their tribe and place it in Rex’s palm.  “ Thank you, Rex. I am sad I cannot do more to help you than wish you luck in finding your own people. ”

“ Don’t worry about it. ”  His half-smile grows into something softer, more genuine. Fingers close around the leaf, then he pushes himself to stand. The four new little ones retreat a few feet, and Pom joins them after a moment. Rex offers a small wave, then puts on his helmet and tucks the leaf into one of his pockets. He takes his blaster and launches his ascension cable to a higher branch.

Pom is home. That’s good. Now he needs to figure out how the hell he’s going to keep the war away from them and their people.

[stedefaest]

Ok, here we go. I made a post about Boromir choosing to die, and now I have a medical explanation. Firstly, the arrow in the middle can’t have hit his heart because genuinely he would have just been dead. there would be no talking to Aragorn. the human heart is about the size of a fist and as that diagram shows, if you want to listen to the apex of the heart, put the stethoscope between the 4th and 5th rib right in the center between the sternum and the shoulder. we call this midclavicular. But, this is not a how to listen to heart sounds post, this is a “where was Boromir actually shot” post.

For him to be alive at the time Aragorn finds him, then he cannot have been shot in the heart. Something as large as a black arrow to the heart would shred the tissue. He would be dead almost instantly. So that center arrow had to hit close but also has to miss the abdominal aorta. The arrow at his shoulder may have gone through the top of the lung, thus causing one lung to collapse, and yeah lmao that puts Boromir at a huge disadvantage simply because we humans need oxygen. Have you ever tried doing anything with one lung collapsed? Of course, he goes down fast after that. The fact he fought through 2 more arrows is incredible. Anyway, the third arrow seems to have gotten him in the side, but maybe he was lucky and it didn’t get his small intestine because there’s also a reason abdomen wounds are so deadly.

Black arrows are poisoned or something, so that’s not great and introduces the possibility that Boromir may have died because of septic shock. So yes, that is something caused by the black arrows, but also people have magic. Subtle as it may be, people have magic. I’m pretty sure magic beats sepsis. If magic can beat Morgul blade, magic can beat septic shock.

Between Boromir talking to Aragorn before he dies and my ?? guesses at where the arrows landed, Boromir did not die from an arrow through the chest, really, he probably died of sepsis. And actually, he could’ve lived, because if we loop back to the hobbit where Fili is shot with a black arrow and survives long enough to get to Lake-Town from Mirkwood.

Which isn’t a short distance lmao. So yeah. Boromir chose death, because he likely could’ve been treated for his wounds, thanks for coming to my tedtalk 

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.19

a/n: so... uhh... nothing much happens here but the last part is worth it :’) i guess? hope ya’ll like this nonetheless! 

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 20

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​  @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

Two days since that fated encounter with Chronostasis, you were now left with a vacant rest day. And where better place to spend it than with Dr. Hanayaka. Setting an appointment with him, as he liked to call it, you were tasked to help with the blood pressure for each patient he had. Luckily, his schedule wasn’t that straining.

“So you mean to say, his henchman met with you in secret?” Gei asked and raised an eyebrow. With his stethoscope resting on his shoulder and white coat on, it was sometimes hard to believe that this flamboyant man was a well respected doctor. “And handed you trash man’s sim card?”

“Yeah. I’ve already checked the contents of the sim and there’s not a lot to go on.” Aside from your messages, the contents of his inbox were that of an average man’s. Expecting some tea about his trade or even important numbers of other villains, you had to think whether or not Chrono deleted some or not.

“And what about that plan of yours, hmm?” Gei fixed his eyelashes before staring back at you. “What if it backfires and Chrono takes the blame?”

“He won’t. My instructions were clear and I set a time frame as well. Just something to please the heroes for setting me up.”

“You movin over to the dark side, baby girl?”

“Just balancing things out.” You shrugged. “Levi made it clear that they shouldn’t interfere with my relationship with Overhaul. Even though I’m on justice’s side, I still want to tip the scales a bit due to personal reasons.”

“Wouldn’t your badge and title be removed if they found out? And why in Todrick’s name are you so chill with this topic?! Are you certain you don’t have a bug on you?” Your friend eyed you down so quickly. Worried that policemen might end up barging inside his office.

“Don’t worry. I’m wearing new clothes so there’s no way they can. Besides, I’m being as cautious as ever. Seriousness aside, I do have some information you might want to feast on.” You smirked at the mental image of a maskless Chrono.

“Spill…” Gei shifted in his seat and leaned in closer. The look on your face only meant one thing.

“Okay, so Overhaul’s right hand man was the one who met me right? Well~ He took off his mask and I will have to admit the man looked hella fine~”

“Describe! Describe!”

“For starters, he has bluish-gray eyes. Though he looks like he wants to kill a person right there and then, he probably could since his jaw was rather prominent. His voice without the mask is different too.” You watched as Gei listened with such focus. “But, if I were to be honest, describing him doesn’t do him good. He looks really handsome.”

“Why is it always the villains who look good?” Gei commented with a pout. “Hawks aside, because that man is something else, but they just hit different you know?”

“That’s true. Shame they have to wear those masks, though.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s good that they do. Otherwise they’d have to endure the wrath of fan girls.”

“Right. Also feels good when they trust you enough to show what’s behind the mask.” Nodding at your own statement, the memory of having lunch with Overhaul came back. With no given warning, he took off his mask and casually drank water. Realizing that he had done it on purpose, a tiny smile formed on your mouth.

“If you miss him that bad, just call him.”

“He changed numbers and I’m not that desperate to ask Chrono for it. Nao said in due time he’ll contact me but the chances of that are negative.”

“Honey, it’s the modern era. Women aren’t as shy as they were before. If you want something, go and get it. If it is a guy’s new number, then go ahead. It’s not just men who make the first move. And besides, I think Overhoe would be surprised if you just suddenly ring his doorbell.”

“You do realize, I do not have the same confidence as you.”

“Fake it till you make it, boo.” He snapped his fingers in a z-formation.

“You’ve been watching Soopernatural again, haven’t you?”

“Okay, first off, Jenred Padackles is a god and I would worship his feet. Second, that show has references to everything and you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Standing up from the sofa, you stretched your limbs. “Anyway, I gotta scram.”

“Where you headin’ off to missy?”

“I have to meet up with Nao regarding the Fukuo Kai case.”

“But it’s your day off. Get a life and do something else other than work, (n/n).” Gei threw a pen to your direction but you dodged it effortlessly. “Don’t make me tell your father.”

“It’s only for a few minutes. It’s in preparation for tomorrow.” Not bothering to wait, you exited the room and sofly closed the doors to his office. Time spent with Gei was always an eye opener. However, it still wasn’t enough for you to stoop so low and ring his doorbell.

Making your way out of the hospital, you took a quick stop to the vending machines and chose a cold cafe au lait. Perfect for the hot and humid weather Japan had to offer. Feeling the cold liquid running down your throat was amazing and within seconds, you downed the whole drink. Tossing the empty bottle to the recycle bin, a gust of wind caused you to lose balance.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“I have a meeting to attend to Hawks.” Hawks took his visors off and ruffled his wings. Offering to buy him a drink, he chose a tetra pack of  apple juice. Walking to the vacant bench, you followed him and decided that perhaps his visit would be worth it. “So what did the bird hear today?”

“Twice and Toga Himiko.”

“League of-” Then it hit you. “I see. Since when?”

“Yesterday. One of my informants saw them entering the base and left late at night. They didn’t look too happy about it, though.” Lowering his headphones, he ruffled his hair and stared at the clear blue skies. “Do what you will with this information. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“How and why do you even bother?”

“I work for the HPSC dove. If I don’t want them getting in my head, I gotta kick their crotches first.”

“That’s not the best analogy.”

“Still works though.” He winked and put on his headphones and visors back. Standing up, he offered a hand and you accepted it. Tailing you, Hawks was now opening the door for your car. “And one more thing, another of my birdies caught the scent of the quirk erasing bullets nearing its completion stages. Probably 80% now.”

“That’s fast.” You had to admit.

“Heard he’s been pissed. Be careful baby bird.” Hawks closed your door and saluted before flying off.

80%? That was enough information to speed up the Shie Hassaikai raid. Reaching out for your bag, you took the burner phone you recently purchased and reread each message the both of you exchanged. With two League of Villains now part of the yakuza, the possibility of casualties was much higher now.

Within minutes, you were now on the road. Fingers tightly wrapping the steering wheel. Your thumb bouncing with growing guilt at choosing to hide what Hawks had just said. Of course this wasn’t to ensure his victory, it was to even the field, right? It was the pettiness taking over you and Nighteye going against his words. It had to be.

Turning towards the precinct, you saw your designated parking area. The basement parking was a bit crowded today.

Heading towards the meeting room Tsukauchi had prepared for the small info sharing, you greeted fellow coworkers and kept conversation till you disappeared around the corner. Not too long after, you were now fiddling with your fingers. Basking in the silence till the doors opened revealing your partner and Shinezu. Both men took their seats and commenced the meeting.

“So, Shinezu will be tagging along.” He nodded at your coworker who seemed to be trembling at the thought. “It’ll do you good, Shinez. Trust me.”

“I-I know, Tsukau-kun.” He adjusted his tie, loosening it a bit. “I just think I’m not cut out for this mission you know? I do better behind the scenes.”

“While I believe that’s true, the 4th division works best when you’re around.”

“That’s true.” You agreed. Shinezu may not be the most social cookie out there but his brain was close to Namase. He also had the knack of coming up with solutions when things went wrong. All he needed was to amp his social skills. “We all know the 4th division leader is weak for you.”

“Not t-true.”

“All too true. You’ll be fine, Shinez. Have I ever lied to you?”

When the raven-haired man finally nodded his head, Tsukauchi cleared his throat and relayed the plans for tomorrow. It was the standard undercover data gathering in your books.

“So, to recap, the 4th division will be handling the snooping and we’ll remain on guard should all else fail?” You repeated the information given. Tsukauchi scratched his chin and nodded. Confirming that you had fully understood his message. “All this should happen within 5 hours. Got it. That’s quite cramped but manageable.”

“5 hours was the only allotted time I could fit in.” He scratched his nape and looked away. “You were right when I had to take it slow with my cases.”

“I’m not one to comment~” Waving the conversation aside, you stood up and the others followed.

With the short meeting now over, Tsukauchi and you were now seated in the break room. Cups of coffee present as you exchanged more information about your days and current mission. For a brief moment, despite him not being a part of the Shie Hassaikai Raid, you wanted to pour every single information you had just gained from Hawks. The lingering guilt was much more present now.

“You’re spacing out.” He snapped his fingers in front of you. “You alright?”

“Aside from the growing problem of trashman, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Taking a sip from your coffee, the usual taste of bitterness was strong today. “Nothing to worry about~”

“You should go home, (n/n). I already took up a portion of your time. Any more and I might drown from embarrassment.”

“That’s gross. Even coming from you.” Kicking him from under the table, the two of you laughed before chugging the remaining drops of coffee. “I will take that offer though. Need me some beauty sleep before shit happens again. See ya!”

Hours had passed and you were now stuffing your face with chips. He was right when he said you had purchased too much but you weren’t complaining. The movie playing now was one of your favorites, Prisoner. Gake Jyllenhall was divine in this movie. It was always the twist of the movie that kept you watching it over and over again.

“I wonder if we had watched this… would the wall pinning  happen?” You thought out loud. Shaking your thoughts away from him, you stopped the movie and stored the chips.

Now that you were settled in bed, Overhaul’s jacket rested on top of you. By now, his scent had disappeared and was now replaced by yours. Grabbing your phone, you opened the messaging app and clicked on a certain conversation. Rereading his messages was not the best idea but at least you would be able to relive whatever memories you had created.

Glancing at your desk calendar, in just two months time, you would meet him again. Would things still be the same? Or would things go back to the way they were? Tucking your phone under the unused pillow, you willed yourself to sleep and surprisingly succeeded.

Waking up not so refreshed happened again. But, nothing out of the ordinary. Not being a morning person, you dragged your body away from the bed and began the necessary clothes. Deciding to just buy breakfast, it took you less than an hour to lock your doors and head over to the parking lot.

Making your way up the steps, you met up with Shinezu.

“You look like shit, Shinez.” You teased him. “Take a chill pill.”

“I already did. But it’s still not working. This would be the first case in a while where I’ll interact with others.” Leading the way, the both of you were now walking through the empty hallways. The sounds of your footsteps muffled by the cheap carpeted floors. “How do you guys even manage to survive situations like these?”

“By taking it one step at a time~” Not the best advice for someone who’s socially challenged but it is what it is.

Opening the doors for you, the both of you entered the room and took your designated seats. A bunch of people from the 4th division were now present. Tsukauchi had not yet arrived but it was still early so it was excusable. Exchanging a few small talk, you caught up with what the 4th division was up to till the doors finally opened.

“Good morning everyone.” Tsukauchi greeted. Feet glued to his spot. His eyesight focused on you. “Before we head out, we have a special guest joining us.”

“Holy shit.” Shinezu uttered under his breath.

- - - - -

a/n: shits bout to go down again! I would like to take this time to thank each one of you who take the time to read this! Unpredictable was supposedly a 10 chapter story but we bout to reach 20 now! i cant really respond to your comments as much but i read all of ‘em and they always make my day :’) my schedule has just been very hectic these days huhu and yeas that ends my rant~ see ya’ll next week! :* and yes, the waiting list is still open :)

[tester2080]

Nuclear power is necessary to stop climate change. Here's why.

15/09/21

I'll be covering a few different concerns and topics related to nuclear energy, such as:

1. Safety

2. Efficiency

3. Waste

4. Feasibility

Safety: When people think about nuclear energy, they usually instantly think of accidents such as Chernobyl and Fukushima and the risks associated with a nuclear meltdown. This causes people to write of nuclear power as dangerous and not worth it. However, this couldn't be further from the truth. In reality, nuclear meltdowns, especially ones that end up doing any harm, are incredibly rare.

Apart from Chernobyl, no nuclear workers or members of the public have ever died as a result of exposure to radiation due to a commercial nuclear reactor incident. Most of the serious radiological injuries and deaths that occur each year (2-4 deaths and many more exposures above regulatory limits) are the result of large uncontrolled radiation sources, such as abandoned medical or industrial equipment. (There have also been a number of accidents in experimental reactors and in one military plutonium-producing pile - at Windscale, UK, in 1957 - but none of these resulted in loss of life outside the actual plant, or long-term environmental contamination.

There have been two major reactor accidents in the history of civil nuclear power - Chernobyl and Fukushima Daiichi. Chernobyl involved an intense fire without provision for containment, and Fukushima Daiichi severely tested the containment, allowing some release of radioactivity. These are the only major accidents to have occurred in over 18,500 cumulative reactor-years of commercial nuclear power operation in 36 countries. [1] 2 major accidents in 18,500 reactor-years is incredibly low. Imagine if there was a single reactor built. If that had the same probability of meltdown as the average of all nuclear reactors so far, it would take 9,250 years for an accident to occur. The pyramids were built 4,691 years ago. If the Egyptians had built a modern nuclear reactor, it would likely still not have experienced a meltdown, and wouldn't for another 4,559 years. The FAA estimates there to be 25,506,000 flight hours per year [20]. In 2019 there were 86 plane crashes [21]. This works out to be around 3.37176 crashes per million flight hours. Comparatively, in total there have been 162,060,000 reactor hours and 2 main accidents. This works out to be 0.01234 accidents per million reactor hours or 273.24 times less likely for an accident to occur from a nuclear reactor than a plane per operating hour. Nuclear plants are similar to plane crashes in the way that they are incredibly rare, and therefore every accident sees major coverage. Just as you hear about every plane crash but not every car crash and therefore planes seem less safe than they are, you hear about every nuclear reactor accident but not every person who dies from fossil-fuel related pollution, or other deaths involved in the production of non-renewable energy, therefore making nuclear power seem less safe. Furthermore, the probability of a nuclear meltdown occurring is much higher when you include accidents, such as Chernobyl, which occurred in the 1980s, when safety was not as prioritised and therefore skews the current probability of a nuclear accident. It would be like including accidents from back in the 40s when assessing the probability of a plane crash nowadays. However, due to the low number of nuclear power plants and exceptionally low number of accidents, a more accurate figure is difficult to calculate. However, the risk of any nuclear accident occurring today is incredibly low.

Additionally, accidents are far from the only way producing power kills people. Air pollution, which largely comes from fossil fuels, kills over 5 million people a year, contributing to 9% of global deaths, and making it 4th highest contributor to deaths a year [2]. When you compare 5 million a year to the approximate 5,000 deaths overall from nuclear energy, the deaths from nuclear power seem incredibly low. Whilst obviously we must strive to reach 0 deaths, this is impossible with current technology. Air pollution resulting directly from fossil fuels is estimated to cause 4.5 million premature deaths a year [3]. The total electricity generation from fossil fuels is approximately 136,761TWh per year [4]. Given that (including accidents) nuclear power causes 0.07 deaths per TWh [1], if you replaced all fossil fuel electricity generation with nuclear power, approximately 9,573 people would die a year from all nuclear power related causes (mining, accidents, etc). This means that approximately 4.5 million people a year would not die that would have died had fossil fuels been used. That means that despite nuclear power being heavily opposed by the general public [5], the use of nuclear power would actively save millions of lives a year.

That brings us on to our next point. You may have looked at the safety graph and are thinking "well solar only kills 0.02 people/TWh and wind is only 0.04/TWh, compared to 0.07/TWh [1] - so why would we use nuclear? Why not just use solar and wind, after all, they kill less people." However, scaling up to a planetary (or even country-wide) level is really where ordinary renewables start to fail.

Solar and wind power alone can't scale up fast enough to generate the vast amounts of electricity that will be needed by midcentury, especially as we convert car engines and the like from fossil fuels to carbon-free energy sources. Even Germany's concerted recent effort to add renewables-the most ambitious national effort so far-was nowhere near fast enough. A global increase in renewables at a rate matching Germany's peak success would add about 0.7 trillion kilowatt-hours of clean electricity every year. That's just over a fifth of the necessary 3.3 trillion annual target.

To put it another way, even if the world were as enthusiastic and technically capable as Germany at the height of its renewables buildup-and neither of these is even close to true in the great majority of countries-decarbonizing the world at that rate would take nearly 150 years. [6] The storage of all the renewable power would also be an issue Bill Gates, who has invested $1 billion in renewables, notes that "there's no battery technology that's even close to allowing us to take all of our energy from renewables." [6] Our analysis demonstrates that realising nuclear energy's potential is essential to achieving a deeply decarbonised energy future in many regions of the world [7] While we are installing renewables at record speeds, at the same time the amount of fossil fuels we're burning for electricity still keeps rising year by year. Renewables have, so far, not been able to catch up with the demand for new electricity and so despite our progress, emissions from electricity are still rising world wide. [8] It becomes rather clear when you look at Germany, which has been actively removing nuclear power plants. Despite building huge amounts of renewable plants, they still get 49.5% of their energy from non-renewable sources [9]. Compare that to countries like "France and Sweden: In France, only around 10% comes from fossil fuels, while 67% comes from nuclear and 23% from renewables, primarily hydro [10]. In Sweden almost 30% comes from nuclear power, and almost 45% from hydro [11]. So we know that nuclear energy can work at scale."[12]. These countries clearly show how nuclear can be used alongside renewables to get the maximum benefit of both. Renewables on their own are not enough to power the entire grid, as they have periods where they must go offline. For example, wind and solar can only produce maximum power for 35.4% and 24.9% of the year respectively [13]. This means that the other 65+% of the time, energy must be taken out of batteries if we were to just use wind and solar. This is not feasible. However, compare those percentages to the incredibly high 92.5% of the year where nuclear power plants can produce maximum power [13]. Therefore, by having both nuclear and other renewables, nuclear can easily supplement the power generation when other renewables cannot. The only other power source close to nuclear's capacity factor is geothermal (74.3% [13]) however, that is not a feasible method of energy generation in most countries. Furthermore, nuclear plants are incredibly efficient. It is estimated that 1 pound of uranium can provide as much energy as 5,000 barrels of oil [24]. Regardless of how safe you believe nuclear power plants to be, if you want to stop climate change by powering the grid cleanly, they must be used.

When people think of nuclear reactors and the downsides, nuclear waste is a very common thing to be cited. However, 97% of the waste is low or intermediate level waste (90% and 7% respectively) and storage of it is not much of an issue [14]. The idea that we don't have any idea of what to do with the remaining 3% is untrue, "Safe methods for the final disposal of high-level radioactive waste are technically proven; the international consensus is that geological disposal is the best option."[15] "The concept of final storage in deep geological formations has become established as a means of safe radwaste management in order to ensure lasting protection against radioactive waste for people and for the environment. This method allows the radioactive waste to be kept away from human living environments in the long term - i.e. for many millennia." [16] "There is a common solution to the challenges of ensuring long term safety for spent fuel and of preventing weapon grade materials being illegally diverted and misused. Deep geologic repositories are the answer. The paper describes the specific engineering, geological, hydrogeological and geotechnical challenges involved at each phase in the development of a geologic repository." [17] In the incredibly rare scenario where there has been a leak, it has not caused any significant harm. In 2014 a leak was detected in a repository in New Mexico. 13 workers tested positive for radiation and even though every radiation level above zero is worth investigating, the radiation exposure was ten times less radiation than that delivered during a typical chest X-ray. [17] It is clear that safe storage of nuclear waste is not much of a problem, with the only issue being with potentially the amount of space it takes up, however, currently the amount of high level waste is "12,000 tonnes worldwide every year, which is the equivalent of a two-storey structure built on a basketball court or about 100 double-decker buses and is modest compared with other industrial wastes."[14]. A lot of this HLW can be reprocessed "As of 2013 approximately 370,000 tons have been generated worldwide since the first reactor was connected to the grid, of which roughly one third (124,000 tons) has been reprocessed" [18]. For example, "In France, where fuel is reprocessed, just 0.2% of all radioactive waste by volume is classified as high-level waste (HLW)" [15]. Additionally nuclear recycling [22] exists and could possibly be used to further reduce nuclear waste. However, costs for such reactors are high, and engineers in that area are rare. Additionally, there are fears about the plutonium created being used for weapons (although such a thing being successfully carried out is very unlikely) [23].

Despite the many recent breakthroughs in nuclear fusion [25][26] nuclear fusion is still likely at least 5 years away from reaching net energy output, and like 20 years away from feasibly being able to use it to power the entire grid. Whilst I wholeheartedly support the advent of nuclear fusion technology and development, and believe once it powers the entire grid we should start retiring nuclear fission plants. However, we cannot just hope that nuclear fusion or some other magic technology will swoop in and save us from climate change at the last second. We have already gone past the point of no return - at this stage we are simply attempting damage mitigation really

Many changes due to past and future greenhouse gas emissions are irreversible for centuries to millennia, especially changes in the ocean, ice sheets and global sea level. [27] Nuclear fission reactors are here now. They work. They can feasibly stop the effects of climate change. However, we must act now. We must stop decommissioning nuclear plants early, and try to rapidly build new ones. It is a race against time. As I have mentioned previously, renewables alone will not be enough. And I'm not going to argue that we should go entirely nuclear either. What we need is a mix of both. I have shown that nuclear power is safe, effective, and necessary. If we want to stop climate change, we cannot shy away from using one of the most powerful tools we have. Thank you for reading.

If you found this article changed your mind, or even perhaps just put you on the fence about nuclear energy, please share it or even just a summary of the points here, or in any of the sources listed, on any sort of platform you may have a following on. We must change the public perception of nuclear power for the better. We must save lives by reducing air pollution. We must save the planet. It is an immense challenge and we need as much public support of viable climate change prevention methods as possible.

If you have any questions or issues regarding this article, feel free to contact me at 0802retset@gmail.com and I will try to get back to you as soon as possible.

[1] https://www.world-nuclear.org/information-library/safety-and-security/safety-of-plants/safety-of-nuclear-power-reactors.aspx [2] https://ourworldindata.org/air-pollution#air-pollution-is-one-of-the-world-s-leading-risk-factors-for-death [3] https://www.greenpeace.org/usa/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/The-Price-of-Fossil-Fuels-full-report.pdf [4] https://ourworldindata.org/fossil-fuels [5] https://ourworldindata.org/grapher/public-opposition-to-nuclear-energy-production [6] https://www.wsj.com/articles/only-nuclear-energy-can-save-the-planet-11547225861?ns=prod/accounts-wsj [7] https://energy.mit.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/The-Future-of-Nuclear-Energy-in-a-Carbon-Constrained-World.pdf [8] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EhAemz1v7dQ - https://ourworldindata.org/grapher/elec-fossil-nuclear-renewables?stackMode=absolute&country=~OWID_WRL [9] https://strom-report.de/germany-power-generation-2020/ [10] https://ourworldindata.org/grapher/elec-fossil-nuclear-renewables?tab=chart&country=~FRA&region=World [11] https://ourworldindata.org/grapher/electricity-prod-source-stacked?tab=chart&stackMode=relative&time=earliest..latest&country=~SWE&region=World [12] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EhAemz1v7dQ [13] https://www.energy.gov/ne/articles/nuclear-power-most-reliable-energy-source-and-its-not-even-close [14] https://web.archive.org/web/20160313120210/http://www.world-nuclear.org/information-library/nuclear-fuel-cycle/nuclear-wastes/radioactive-wastes-myths-and-realities.aspx [15] https://www.world-nuclear.org/information-library/nuclear-fuel-cycle/nuclear-wastes/radioactive-waste-management.aspx [16] https://www.ensi.ch/en/waste-disposal/deep-geological-repository/ [17] https://onepetro.org/ISRMIS/proceedings-abstract/IS00/All-IS00/ISRM-IS-2000-015/50923 [18] https://www.nature.com/articles/nature.2014.14778 [19] https://www.boell.de/sites/default/files/2019-11/World_Nuclear_Waste_Report_2019_Focus_Europe_0.pdf [20] https://www.faa.gov/air_traffic/by_the_numbers/ [21] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2021/jan/02/plane-crash-deaths-rose-in-2020-despite-pandemic [22] https://whatisnuclear.com/recycling.html [23] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breeder_reactor#Discussion [24] https://web.archive.org/web/20140418044236/http://pandoraspromise.com/ [25] https://phys.org/news/2021-09-superconducting-magnet-magnetic-field-strength.html [26] https://www.popularmechanics.com/science/a37359406/nuclear-fusion-ignition-breakthrough/ [27] https://www.ipcc.ch/report/ar6/wg1/

[impulsivelycontentious]

No one reads this or connects it with my other online identities but since I've removed personals involvement from my other social media stuff, and I feel like bitching, I am jsut gonna go ahead and do it.

So I have brain damage. Yeaaaaars ago I threw up so hard I actually ripped open the inside of an artery in my neck, and it threw a clot, and that clot did some nasty shit on its way on through and out.

No doctor noticed for two weeks.

Everyone else did.

Good times.

Anyway.

So now I have a damaged brain. Brains don't grow back. Some areas can regenerate a few cells - notably the prefrontal lobe - but mostly brains fix themselves not by regenerating like skin does, but by rearranging the cells we have to fire to fancy new configurations.

This has been quite the ride. Because shit, it changes things.

I don't even know how much of my personality is consistent. No idea. Let alone everything else.

I have memory loss my nurologist won't akowledge because it falls short of dementia. That was the bar. "You don't have dementia, you know what year it is." Gee thanks there chief.

Anyway.

My brain wasn't too stable to begin with. I have always been prone to logic leaps that occur very quickly and not necessarily in ways other people would make them. My mind is jumbled and a little random and things collide all the time that probably shouldn't.

This has become much worse since the brain damage. See, my brain keeps wiring shit together. Shit it really shouldn't. It changes who I am, what I think, what I can think.

It's actually quite terrifying to realise you're a sack of geletine misfiring lighting at itself.

So anyway. To the point. Yes - I have one of those. Probably. It's somewhere in here.

Oh right, no, another detour. I'm autistic. "Oh yeah, they definatly didn't screen girls when I was a kid because how the fuck did they miss this otherwise" autistic.

Back to the point.

Recently I had this sensory processing ... Whatever the fuck that was. I call them.idssocistive episodes. I don't know how accurate that is. But my mind unhooks from my sensory data. Everything feels muted and unreal - sound, sight, touch, heat. Name it. It's wrong.

I hate these.

It gets particularly nasty because there are nurologicsl consequences. See, my concious mind ramps up it's interpretation of sensory data. It goes all in and leaves the rest of my existence stuffed in this tiny little box without enough space to do dick.

One effect of this is I suddenly become highly obsessive. I think it's a comfort mechanism, I require the same stimulus over and over again or to somehow mentally connect it to the same element. Of course, it could also jsut be that obsessive behaviour towards interests is part of who I am. I am autistic. I DEFIANTLY go all in when something fascinates me. But not... Not like this.

Do you have ANY IDEA how many times I watched starwars 8 in 72 hours? Any clue? Holy fricking ... Something. I watched it fast. I watched it slow. I watched it skipping ahead 10 seconds every 10 seconds. I dissected that thing in micrscopic detail.

It gets better. Because mere hours before I got hit with this episode... I was not a starwars fan.

Nope. I watched it. It was ok. I wasn't going out of my way for it.

And suddenly. Wham. Episode 8. All the time. I watched some 7 and 9 as well but it was like it was entierly because eit was connected to 8.

I cannot even.

And while this is happening, *I know*. I know. I really do. I know this isn't my normal behaviour. I know this isn't my wheelhouse. I know something is deeply, deeply wrong in my brain.

I think it might actually be an ok movie, honestly. But not THAT good. And now it's one of my favourite things. Forever. I have no idea if it's actually good. Did I not give eit a chance the first time? Is my obsessive brain simply emotionally hooked up how? Fuck, I don't know.

So that's why I'm posting today. On this day. May 4th.

I'm seeing a lot of star wars today and it's making my brain tickle with it's own ridiculousness.

Not the whole point though. Because it lasted 72 hours (I watched dit one more time after that and if wasn't near as intense).

But what happened AFTER my 72 hours as an obsessive raylo (oh yeah. I went there. I'm not even ashamed. I am also compeltely content with the end they got, because I do not see that shit working out).

Brains don't regrow. They rewire.

And suddenly, I'm drawing. Like... A lot. I filled pages of doodles. Sketches. I redrew a peice I'd been working on for about a month in a few hours and damnit, it was good. It's not professional quality but I'd never down anything that well before. This goes on for another day. And then I started a story, and I wrote 2000 words all at once.

I'm dyslexic. And words are severely impacted by my brain damage to the point it can cause me phsycial pain to force my thoughts in to words.

And here I am. Going nuts on my phone. The words just spilling out and again - damnit, it was good shit.

My brain was abstracting. Where the concious sort had been shunted, it wasn't directing the abstracting aspect of my mind.

And I was making cognative leaps. My brain was wiring itself together for creativity.

For another 24 hours.

And now, dear reader, we get to now.

I have written 200 words in the last 2 days. They feel wrong.

I started and stopped a dozen images. None of them feel right. And there are objective quality differences.

I can still draw a bit. If I'm not tired. I'm almost always tired - it's neural fatigue, it comes with surviving a brain damage.

I have somehow brain damaged my way in to better skills.

And it's... It's not a good feeling.

Doing it the first time and watching something take place in front of my eyes I don't recognise was like magic. It was euphoric. Amazing. Exciting.

Realising as time wears on that the ability to do this is intrinsically tied in to the way ones brain handles brain damage and sensory processing issues?

Not a great feeling cats. Not at all.

I find myself staring at a document willing words on tot he page that just aren't there anymore and feeling so frustrated I could scream.

Whose idea was this anyway? Why can't I keep my rewiring?

It's so hard dto explain the feeling of loss.

It's not me who did these things. A version of me, yes. But not the one we are keeping.

The one we keep struggles to hold a narrarive in her head and the narrator's tone took 3 rewritten to preserve for a single paragraph.

I don't want to stop. But how do I keep going? I'm not the author anymore and I've always struggled with adopting the tone of others.

So yeah. That's where I'm at. And I wanna talk about it. Because I don't want to be alone. But I can't escape the feeling I'm being dramatic. Terribly dramatic. And so talking about it is hard. How much is my own spin and perception and how much is real?

Did this really happen?

I think it did. But like every story I tell, I don't know. Memory loss. Cognetive issues.

I just wanna tell stories and draw. But the words hurt and the art makes me tired.

It's frustrating is all.

I hate being lighting geletine.

In case you're wondering what kind of cognative leap happened:

That one is april 4th.

And that one April 28th.

🤷‍♀️

Fucked if I know, really.

[blaststudy]

How to Cram the Smart Way – The Absolute Best Way to Cram Before the Exam!

Okay, so you’re in a predicament. The test is coming up, and you haven’t studied at all! You have to cram, there are no ifs ands or buts about it!

But what is the best way to cram for a test?

Well, that depends on a number of factors, the most important being – have you studied at all, and how long do you have before taking the test?

Let’s assume you haven’t studied a single thing (because if you have studied, then you probably won’t be in this predicament in the first place). In that case, we have exactly what to do based on how much time you have.

Whether you have the class period before, the day before, or three days to work with, we have a study tip for you! Just click on the link below to take you to which predicament you currently find yourself in.

I am cramming the:

Class Period Before the exam

Day Before the Exam

3 Days Before the Exam (Best Option!)

The Class Period Before the Exam

Wow, okay, this is definitely a predicament that you have found yourself in. The name of the study game in this instance is short-term memory, and to get something quickly in your short-term memory, you need repetition! Hopefully, your test is memory-based.

Have you ever heard of the naming game Impulse? In this game, you start in a circle. The first person in the circle says their name. Then the next person in the circle says their own name and the first person’s name. The third person in the circle says their own name, the 2nd person’s name, and the 1st person’s name, and so on until everyone has said their name.

It is a fun icebreaker where you can surprisingly learn a lot of names quickly.

Well, you are about to do the same thing with cramming!

First, create a list of what you need to learn. If you have the time, turn that list into flashcards. Then go down the list one by one. For simplicity’s sake, here is an example for a Spanish cram session:

Casa – House

Mesa – Table

Libro – Book

Lo Siento – Sorry

Salud – Bless you

Quien – Who?

Que – What

So, for this repetitive study method, you would start with #1 and try and memorize that Casa means House. Next, you would memorize that Mesa means Table. But instead of going to #3, you would go back to #1 and say that Casa means House, then you go to #3 Libro means Book, Mesa means Table, Casa means House. It looks like this:

1st round

Casa – House

2nd round

Mesa – Table

Casa – House

3rd round

Libro – Book

Mesa – Table

Casa – House

4th round

Lo Siento – Sorry

Libro – Book

Mesa – Table

Casa – House

You would keep going in this repetitive method until you get to the end of your list. Then try and say the entire thing in one go without looking at the answers. If you miss a word, take note of that word. At the end, go over all the words that you missed until those words are memorized as well.

If you have time, scramble the list and do it again. Keep reviewing the list until it’s the very last moment to take the exam. When you get the exam, write down as much as you can remember on the back of the exam paper. Then you can refer to that during the test.

Of course, this is only if the teacher or professor allows you to write on the exam. If your teacher does not allow that, then be sure to quickly scan the exam and answer all the questions you know first!

The Day Before the Exam

In comparison, the day-before-the-exam crammers have a bit more room to work than the class-period-before-the-exam crammers ­– though not much.

The first thing you need to do is find out what is going to be on the exam. So, if you are still at school, be sure to talk with the professor or teacher to find out what to study. If you paid attention in class, then you should have a roundabout idea of what is going to be covered.

Start this study session as early in the day as you can; right after school is best. If it is the weekend, then lucky you! You can study all day!

Now, find a quiet spot and turn off your notifications to devote all your focus to studying.

Because it is only one day before the exam, it is best to ignore your book and go straight to your notes for the essential topics covered. Organize these important topics into a list of potential items that could be tested. This is called a reductionist strategy. It is where you take something big and reduce it into smaller manageable parts. We are going to do this by forming questions.

Once you have your notes list, now you will form a study question. If your test is on Biology, then your questions could look something like this:

What is photosynthesis?

How does sodium bicarbonate affect photosynthesis?

What is an allele frequency?

What does an allele frequency measure?

Questions reinforce your knowledge in two ways. First, your knowledge is reinforced when you create the question. Second, your knowledge is reinforced when you answer the question. Once you have your questions formed, spend the rest of the evening memorizing them. You can use the same method mentioned above or any memorization method that works best for you.

If there are any questions that you keep missing, put them to the side and go over those questions separately until you memorize them.

Right before going to bed, review all the questions again. Review the questions you kept missing last. Then go straight to sleep so your mind can continue working on them while you slumber.

Yes, the mind actually does this!

In addition, it is important to get a good night’s rest before the exam because the brain cannot function properly on a lack of sleep. So, even if you don’t want to, sleep at least 7-8 hours.

When you wake up, immediately go over the questions you got wrong. Hopefully, your brain has been working on them overnight, and now you know them! If not, go over those questions again as well as the questions that you have memorized. Do this throughout the day.

Right before class, go over your questions list once more to make sure this information is fresh in your mind.

3 Days Before the Exam

Yes, if you start studying 3 days before the exam, you are still cramming. Though, this is with the assumption that you have not studied anything for this class at all. But, looking on the bright side, you are in better shape than the person who started studying the day before the exam and much better shape than the person who started the class period before!

If you have 3 days to study, the first thing you need to do is find out what is going to be on the exam by asking your professor or a studious friend who takes the class with you. You can also refer to your notes (hopefully, you have been taking great notes!).

Read over your notes, make questions from them, and try to answer those questions. Pretend like the exam is tomorrow and try to memorize as much as you can using the methods described above. You are basically giving yourself a cram session three days in advance of the exam. You do not have to try and memorize everything, but do try and memorize at least half the study material.

From those questions, identity which ones you get right or wrong, and review the questions you got wrong right before going to bed.

Cramming 3 days before works well because you have just enough time for spaced repetition in your studying. On the second day, continue your study method with the questions you have created. Try to memorize as much as possible, and be sure to review what you studied the day before. Take note of the questions that you routinely get wrong and review those right before going to bed.

As mentioned, when you go to sleep, your brain will work on those questions.

The day before the exam, it is time for another cram session. By now, there should be questions that you know well, questions that you get right most of the time, and questions that you frequently get wrong. Put aside the question that you get right all the time; those are firmly in your short-term memory.

Now it is time to focus on studying the questions that you are still getting wrong. Keep using repetition memorization techniques to study these questions.

If these questions just aren’t sinking in, then you may have to get creative. Here are some tricks to help retain information in your short-term memory:

Explain the answers to a family member or friend

Draw what the answer means

Write the answers in different colored ink

Write the answers in all caps

Have someone quiz you

Give yourself a single M&M candy if you get an answer right

Try doing jumping jacks while memorizing the question

Right before you go to sleep (and remember, you are going to get a good night’s sleep of at least 7-8 hours), review all the questions for the test, saving the most difficult questions for last. Then go straight to sleep.

As mentioned, (yes, we want to repeat this because it is important) your brain will work on these questions while you sleep. Which is why it is important to get a good night’s rest!

In the morning, as soon as you wake up, go over the harder questions. Hopefully, now you know all or the majority of them.

If there are still some that you do not know, then group those questions together. As the day goes on, continue to review your questions.

Right before you go into class, review those harder questions again, so they are right inside your working memory. But they are going to fade fast, so as soon as you get the test, write those facts down on the back of the test right away, then take the test and refer to what you have written.

Overall cramming tips

Don’t drink alcohol the night before; you will learn nothing!

Coffee is great to drink the morning of the exam, but have it without sugar. Coffee has proven memory benefits, but the sugar messes that all up.

Do not have sugar 20 minutes before the test because you will sugar-crash once the test begins. But you can have sugar during the test. Dark Chocolate is probably the best sweet to have, though an apple might be the overall best test-taking snack to eat (however, it could be too loud for your test-taking neighbors).

Turn off social media while studying because you need to have an intense study session, and social media provides too many distractions.

If you prefer studying in a group, try Zoom cram study sessions that are 25 or 55 minutes long with 5-minute breaks.

Hopefully, you will never be stuck in an all-or-nothing cramming situation, but if you are (and we all are at some point), we hope these tips are helpful and helped spur you to more frequent study methods (ala, at least once a week).

You can try the Blast Study Method for lecture-based study quizzes, learning narratives, and reminders on the best days to study to reinforce your knowledge.  Plus, Blast has a Countdown cram study session built right in to cram the smart way!

If you have found a study method that works best for you, then stick with it! Don’t be swayed by someone who says they barely study and ace the test. Perhaps that works for them, and that’s fine. You do what works best for you.

If you try the Blast Study Method, pretty soon, people might be asking what the secret is to your study success! *whispers* We don’t mind if you tell them.

[schalane]

Friday, 5th March 2021

Hi everyone!

Today is the 4th day i will do my home workout and morning/evening jog. I really want to do this. I dont want to turn back. My weight was 65.5kg on Tuesday and after consistently doing it for 3days i just lost the weight till 64.60kg this morning. I eat some food though so again i gain 64.95kg.

For morning jog, im not really so shy because its early so nobody watch me running 😂😂😂 Im such a shy person ya thats why i need to do early morning. For evening jog i need my companion usually i bring my neighbor, Izah. She wanted to jog too so why not.

Yesterday, we went for walk/evening jog from 4pm till 6pm! Very tiring but its worth it. I had orange, small portion chicken & plain water for my dinner.

Here are some tips ive been doing for these few days straight.

1. Workout for 1hour every morning or you can jog 1hour and 30mins home workout

2. Eat your breakfast before 8am to boost your metabolism

3. Eat in small portion during lunch as long as you have enough carbohydrate and protein

4. Take evening jog for 1-2hours you can walk 5km also if you cant do the jog

5. Eat before 7pm

If you want to have the fast result usually you need to cut sugar for the first and second week of your workouts. Hahaa but i know i cannot do that, so i just eat less sugar, less oil in food and drink more water. Don’t eat foods that got lot of carbs. It can make your stomach bloated easily! 🐛

Last but not least, live healthy. Try to drink green tea/lemon for detox. ❤️

May we all get the ideal weight we want.

Let me type what is my target:

Target: 60kg before march end

Target: 55kg before april end

Target: 52kg on may

Goodluck! ❤️

[vampexx]

Thoughts on Luka and in general

Well, I have been working on an analysis for Luka’s character for a little while now and every time I worked on it, I just didn’t like the way it was turning out. As in, it wasn’t flowing well, it was super messy and patchy, and it was so long that I was losing track of all of the points I was planning on making....yes, that long. SO, I thought I would not only spare myself the headache, but that I would spare you guys too lol.  So I just threw this together hoping it would sit better with me and luckily, it does :) .

I was going to make this post some grand master-analysis on my theories, thoughts and opinions of everything from characters, theories, different ships, etc. and yikes, that idea was scratched pretty quickly because someone who rambles as much as I do, that’s the worst decision ever lol I do not have the time nor patience for any of that mess lol.

Besides, most of what was in this post before I scrapped it has all been said before so I didn’t want to be repetitive.

So instead, I have decided to include mainly my new thoughts on Luka since coming to a different conclusion and stance on his character. The rest will be included, yes, but in the form of links to my other theories and opinions that I was planning including originally to some degree for anyone who may care what my opinion is.

With all that being said, let’s talk about my new found opinion of Luka.

I have always agreed with those that said that Luka’s character was flat, 2-dimensional and too “perfect” to be true. Now here’s the thing, while I was writing the scrapped analysis that was essentially going to reiterate those same things, I came to the conclusion that Luka is, in fact, not perfect. 

For instance:

In the episode, “Silencer,” Marinette and Luka go to XY and his manager to defend Kitty Section when discovering their style and song were wrongfully stolen/ copied. Of course, Luka is a very reserved and subdued character so his flaws are more easily unnoticed at first glance. To spot his flaws, you have to look less at what he is doing (writing melodies, being compassionate, etc. you know, things that make him “perfect.”) and look more at what he is not doing. Back to my point in, “Silencer.” So, Marinette, as she normally does, is quick to defend and argue over the wrongful use of Kitty Section’s style and song. She ends up in a pretty heated argument with XY’s manager. Where is Luka, you ask? While he is in indeed angry like Marinette, but he is standing in the background not really helping nor backing her up in said argument when he arguably should have. Now, this is in fact a flaw. It is due to his non-confrontational and reserved nature that he does not get involved in the argument, neither to back up / defend Marinette, but also not to defend Kitty Section, his own band. He just let’s Marinette do all the arguing and talking while he’s just there watching, getting angrier and angrier, eventually being akumatized. 

Granted, Luka has shown to be not as good with words as say maybe someone like Marinette. What I mean by that is, he usually seems to speak via music so maybe he struggles with verbal expression although that would contradict his poetic words in, “Silencer,” and compassionate words in, “Felix.” Not that expression primarily through music is a bad thing, it is easily endearing to his character however it can also be viewed as another “flaw,” being that he is not a communicator unlike Marinette, who sometimes over communicates lol. It’s pretty clear that Luka does have some nice choice of words to say, however when he does talk, he doesn’t say a whole lot as in, it’s fairly brief. Otherwise, he keeps to himself it seems. Now Luka’s lack of communication can be foreseen as kryptonite to the Lukanette ship, just as I have said above, Marinette is a communicator and not Luka. For someone like Marinette, that could easily be a “turn off” for her, who is a very (sometimes overly) outwardly expressive person, although sometimes not by choice lol.

I may not have found many flaws for Luka, however I feel it’s enough to combat the statement of his character being too “perfect.” I agree, he seems that way at first. Due to his “laid back,” and “go with the flow,” type nature, it’s easy to potentially misinterpret him as a “too good to be true,” type of character. To reiterate, his flaws can be more easily found in what he is not doing, rather than what he is doing. For comparison, a good example of someone having flaws based off of what they do/ their actions (as opposed to inaction) would be Kagami, basing this statement off of her vastly differing personality from Luka. 

To sum up regarding Luka’s flaws, the ones that I have found so far are inaction, seemingly distant and disinterested (mentioned more in depth in link #2) and lack of general communication. Why he possesses those flaws are open to anyone’s interpretation. I for one, am not digging that deep.

Thus being why I have changed my opinion of Luka from being neither good nor bad, just generally indifferent to his character, to actually now being a Luka stan. Now, I’m not necessarily his biggest fan and I am certainly not a fan of Lukanette, but I’m ok with his character and  I do stan Lukagami because they are both Adrien and Marinette’s mirrors, therefore they are also arguably yin and yang like Adrien and Marinette.

Now this post is titled, “Thoughts on Luka and in general.” Meaning, there are some other things I wanted to include that don’t necessarily involve Luka’s character. 

1st being - As of the season 3 finale, I would like to state that no one is officially dating. Nothing official has happened. No one even kissed. 90% of Lukanette’s actions were essentially friendly, nothing too romantic. Marinette does not appear to really reciprocate Luka’s feelings (as backed by, “Luka as seen by Marinette,” video where she never mentions returning his feelings). Also, Adrigami didn’t officially happen either. Although a kiss was attempted, it did in fact fail on Adrien’s end. Some kids sat next to each other, hung out  and ate ice cream which normally doesn’t suggest that people are dating. If anything at all romantic happened in the very end of the finale, it’s that the two pairs are in the, “testing the waters,” phase at best. No more no less, in my opinion.

Remember: The theme of the finale was, “You don’t always get what you want.” That doesn’t just apply to Adrien, Marinette and especially the fandom. It also applies to Kagami, Luka, Chloe, Hawkmoth, Mayra and hell, even Andre lol.

Let’s be honest, we’re not even guaranteed to pick up where we left off in the season 3 finale when season 4 starts.

2nd thing - Now that the peacock miraculous is fixed, I will be shocked if we don’t see the butterfly and peacock miraculous unified, and whatever fresh hell that will bring lol.

Third thing - The kiss in season 2 finale was not just friendly unless when a friend kisses you on the cheek, you look at them like this...

To which I must ask....are they just a friend lmao? (Lol sorry, don't @ me, trying to make a MLB pun....)

4th  thing - I really don’t know which love square ship will be primary in season 4. Like, Adrien still loves Ladybug, obviously, and always will but seems to be taking a break from pursuing her romantically. It is also made crystal clear via a forgotten confession in, “Chat Blanc,” and through increasingly prominent heart eyes from Adrien that his, “more than friends,” feelings for Marinette are growing so much and so fast that they’re quickly reaching the point for him to no longer be able to ignore it. So Adrien, “changing his target,” will not shift to Kagami, rather it will shift to Marinette. I mean, there was no mention of Adrigami vs. Adrinette having a decided victor in season 4 like Lukanette vs. Adrinette, which leads me to think they will not only end first, but also end pretty early on in the season if the ship takes off officially at all, which is still unknown. Next, we have Marinette who is in a more complicated position. She believes that she cannot love Chat due to thinking, for what she knows to be some outrageous reason that she refuses to look into, “will end the world.” She is also trying to move on from Adrien, who obviously she will also never get over. So for Marinette it’s trickier because she feels like she can’t have either, while Adrien seems to get a simple shift in “targets.” 

So how this love square business is going to play out in season 4 is kind of up in the air for me. Marichat is a possible route, where Adrien is pining for Marinette as Chat and Marinette is pining for Chat (while believing they can’t be together) however that makes it seem less likely. It could also be Adrinette, which I feel might be the most sensible route, because Adrien pining for Marinette after finally coming to terms with his feelings for her, and Marinette I guess then deciding to give them a shot romantically assuming Adrien confesses, otherwise if she is still trying to move on without knowing Adriens feelings for her, then I don’t know how well that would work. Ladrien I guess could work, like an unrequited love type deal although I don’t know how likely that is to happen given both main character’s head spaces. Ladynoir I expect, at least for most of the season, to be mostly platonic temporarily. Ladynoir, in my opinion, will probably be the last corner of the love square to be resolved, which I think will take place in the movie after season 4. So, yeah.....more than likely to be played out either via Marichat or Adrinette in my opinion.

That’s all I have to talk about for now....I have just been kind of sitting on those thoughts for a while. Now I will include the links as mentioned earlier:

Link 1) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/190128222840/just-my-opinion

Link 2) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/190054338050/uh-ohi-used-my-brain-againget-ready-lol

Link 3) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/189482028990/just-a-thought-there-are-spoilers-in-case

Link 4) https://vampexx.tumblr.com/post/189856458390/alright-sorry-but-im-gonna-be-salty-real

Sorry this was lengthy, but believe me, this is way better than what this post would have been originally lol. I’m still so tired after all that though...oh well. Worth it I guess.

Have a miraculous day and thank you for your patience!