#proof Jason does glow in the dark | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

matt0044 · 1 year ago

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thinkingofausername · 1 year ago

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The day I see Jason's full struggle explored well is the day I die happy.

Whichever you choose - digging himself out of his grave or getting revived in the pit - there's so much potential.

In both options his last memory is getting beat within an inch of death and then getting blown up (and in some stories there's the betrayal of his mother).

Now imagine him waking up to darkness, in a tight and hard space, having to come to the bone-chilling conclusion that he's been buried alive and no one will hear his screams for help. He had to dig himself out of his own grave, during a storm, with no idea what's happened and what the hell he's supposed to do. How does he explain this? Would anyone believe him? Why would anyone welcome a corpse?

Or imagine him suddenly and violently rising from a glowing green pit, wrapped in bandages, surrounded by strangers, running away and feeling the adrenaline wear off who-knows-when. Crashing and taking a minute to figure out what's happened.

Throw in autopsy scars - the proof he's been cut open and examined on a table. How does his body adjust to functioning again? A body that's been dead, whose blood had stopped flowing, whose brain stopped getting oxygen, whose intestines stopped digesting, whose heart stopped beating - how does it start doing that again, and what does that feel like?

Are there phantom pains from the beating? How does he come to terms with his new, bigger body when it was so much smaller the last time he'd seen it? How did he first react when he saw a different, older face looking at him in the mirror? When did he first see articles and news of his death?

How does he go on with life, surrounded by life, knowing he wasn't supposed to experience any more of it. How does he walk past a graveyard knowing he's supposed to be buried in one? How does he keep being a person when he's supposed to be a memory?

more people should write jason todd with claustrophobia due to having to claw himself out of his literal coffin and grave

#jason todd #tw: death #tw buried alive #tw body image #angst

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alecmagnuslwb · 3 years ago

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But Please Don’t Bite - @doubleredweek Day 6

Read on AO3

The number one rule about the Bats is to always, always stay away from their fangs. It’s no secret that despite Bruce’s strict no killing rule they’re the most lethal of the pseudo super families.

The rule especially applies to the Arrows, wolves and vampires don’t mix; they tolerate each other at best. The years of petty bitching between Oliver and Bruce at every Justice League meeting should be proof enough of that.

Roy Harper however never found a rule he didn’t at least want to tamper with. Befriending Dick Grayson, a creature of the night not a creature of the hunt, had been his big teen rebellion, but oh boy that’s going to look like he stole a pack of gum and promptly returned it immediately out of guilt in comparison to this.

Because right now Jason Todd’s fangs aren’t just within spitting distance which he knows Oliver would consider risky enough, they’re pressed right up against his throat.

Roy’s not totally sure how he wound up here, not that he’s complaining in the slightest when Jason’s lips travel down to the base of his neck his fangs slipping out the tips just barely grazing Roy’s pale skin.

Teaming up with Jason in the first place had been an accident, a wrong place wrong time incident that Batman’s most complicated son helped him out of. From there he’d just kind of stuck, Jason didn’t necessarily need the help, but he didn’t turn it down either and Roy couldn’t seem to stop. It was fun working with someone whose style wasn’t exactly like his and Jason’s wry sense of humor and handsome face were nice to be around.

There was just something captivating about Jason that Roy couldn’t seem to step away from even though every lesson he’d ever been taught told him he should. Captivation quickly turned into a crush, a silly unrealistic crush a werewolf had on a vampire, which quickly then became something more. Roy found himself in so deep, so quickly he knew no matter what they were, no matter if Jason felt more than obvious mutual attraction to him, he was going to be sticking around for a long time.

So, here they are now with months’ worth of tension spilling out in a cold, dark alleyway with a pile of unconscious drug dealers stacked up on top of each other not ten feet away.

“Jaybird,” Roy says just as he nips at the delicate skin of Roy’s jaw, not quite enough to break the skin and draw blood but damn near close enough. The action makes him think of the speech he got from Oliver years ago, a warning about remaining on guard whenever a Bat was around.

“Just because he’s been training them all for years to reign it in doesn’t mean they aren’t creatures of habit,” he’d said. “They’re connected to their base urges just like we are. We can’t resist the moon when we lose focus, they can’t resist blood when they do.”

He groans, he really doesn’t want to be thinking about Oliver right now, and damn if Jason doesn’t seem wholly focused anyways.

“Don’t worry,” Jason says pausing his trail along Roy’s neck in favor of kissing him once, biting at Roy’s bottom lip when he pulls back. “I won’t bite,” he pauses again placing a slow gentle kiss on Roy’s jaw. “Unless you want me to.” He winks once at Roy before gently tilting Roy’s head to the side slowly working his way down the other side of his neck.

And sweet baby Jesus Jason bleeding him dry is the least of his worries he’s gonna die on the spot from his lips alone.

“No really Jaybird,” he says making absolutely no attempt to put a stop to it when Jason grips his waist tight and pulls him in closer pressing the length of his body right up against Roy firmly pressing him into the wall. “We should,” he pauses struggling to get through his intended sentence when Jason does something particularly pleasant with his tongue. “We should talk about what’s happening here.”

Jason pulls back his face still dangerously close to Roy’s. “I thought it was pretty obvious what was happening here.”

Roy huffs a little laugh reaching out a hand to delicately hold Jason’s sharp jaw. “I don’t mean this, this. I mean this in general,” he explains waving his other hand between them.

“So clear,” Jason says flashing his fangs a little when he smiles.

“Jay,” Roy says seriously, his words may be unclear, but Jason knows exactly what he means.

Jason sighs tilting his head up into the night air the glow of the moon, just a few days away from Roy’s time of the month, catching on the scar along his eyebrow and the white streak in his hair illuminating them. The motion causes Roy’s hand to slip down to Jason’s neck still holding lightly.

“You mean how vampires and werewolves aren’t supposed to mix and how your dad fucking hates my dad and they’ll absolutely both lose it if they find out about us?” Jason says his head tilting back down to look Roy in the eyes. The usual blue of his eyes is halfway gone being swallowed up by the vampire red that only comes out in anger or desire, a strange and mesmerizing purple line across them where the colors mix.

“I don’t give a fuck what they think, Bruce is always gonna be Bruce and let’s be real your dad just hates Bruce specifically, his issue isn’t with us,” Jason continues and Roy decides not to argue it. It’s technically true, Oliver doesn’t hate Dick or Jason or any of the other Bat kids but that doesn’t mean he’ll be thrilled if one of his kids starts sleeping with one of them. “Except maybe Damian, but Damian just kind of has that effect on people.”

Roy smiles amused, he actually kind of likes Damian as brash and rude as the kid can be.

“I guess they don’t really need to know if we start fucking in alleyways anyways, huh?” Roy says somewhat defensively protecting himself. He wants it to be more than just this, but he knows Jason isn’t exactly open to emotionally complex relationships. This might be all he’s willing to give. “Unless some siblings of yours catches us and blabs.”

Jason surprises him kissing him once on the lips light and soft not at all like the kisses they’ve been sharing since he punched out the last of the goons took one look at Roy and just pounced.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says and Roy just gives him an innocent look like he has no idea what Jason is talking about. Jason clearly doesn’t buy it. “You don’t have to act like this is just fucking in an alley. Which for the record we absolutely are not doing we may be nearly indestructible creatures of the night but I’m fairly certain there are some diseases down here that could very much take us both out.”

Jason leans forward touching his forehead to Roy’s keeping them close.

“I know I’m an emotionally stunted bloodsucker, but I’d like to try and not be with you,” he says closing his eyes. Up this close Roy can almost count every single one of his thick dark eyelashes. “Well the first part, can’t really do anything about the bloodsucking.”

Jason’s skin is cool to the touch just like it always is chilly fingers slipping under the edge of his vest. Roy’s warm hands stroke absentmindedly where they still rest on Jason’s ice-cold neck, it should make him shiver, should be such a contrast to the wildfire that always runs in his veins but Roy can’t feel it, he just feels warmer than he’s ever felt before.

“I’d say let me buy you dinner and then that sounds like a great plan, but you don’t eat,” Roy says with a chuckle leaning in once to press a quick kiss to Jason’s lips.

Jason snorts pulling back just a bit, but staying close. “How about you take me to blood bank?”

Roy nods pushing himself off the wall entangling his fingers with Jason’s. “A cold, clinical blood bank? How romantic,” he says swinging their arms back and forth as he drags them out of the alley.

He knows that sooner or later the fallout from this is going to cause an absolute shitshow incident between their families, but everything before and after that is going to be so much fun.

#my fic #jayroy #jayroyweek2021 #jason todd #roy harper #writersmonth2021

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graylinesspam · 5 years ago

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Fire proof

Jason can remember the green, like fire in his veins. The way it made him feel like the sun had settled on his chest. The way he couldn't escape the anger when the water was so fresh on his skin.

He can remember his hands moving deft and numb like disembodied limbs following the instructions of some unseen puppet master. Even when he was calling the shots he did not feel the blood on his hands.

He knows it was there of course. That it still is in a way. That there is a lot of blood on his hands. A lot of death to his name. But he does not regret it or fear it the way he maybe should. It doesn't stick to his skin like some memories do. Doesn't crust under his nails like bile. Doesn't press into his temple with cold pressure. Doesn't sit heavy in his stomach like the first meal in several days.

He's sure its an effect of the pit. Whatever it makes you do must be right in all its ancient wisdom. Even if he no longer agrees with the life he lead under its noxious glow he cannot contest his actions. Cannot say he regrets it.

But he is aware enough to know that alone is dangerous. Once the pit has you it never fades away. Not fully. The urges still and your hands are your own but the fire still sits hot in your chest and behind your eyes.

It makes him dangerous in a way more and more bats can claim. As the pit sinks it's jagged teeth into his family infecting one person after another.

Some day he feels little more than a jack-o-lantern hallowed by the league's hands and lit from within with a light of warning.

His hands are deadly. What they touch they burn. So he does not touch precious things

But more often recently he is reminded that precious does not mean fragile.

A tiny hands slides into his wrapping around his thumb and still only just covering the girth with slim fingers. Tiny square nails clipped short less they slice him open. Teeny muscles slack against his but still trying to nudge him in her direction.

She has been taught to always be careful when touching a human. They may be big and tuff but tiny hands are more dangerous than they appear.

Mar'I smiles up at him perfect square teeth glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Sharp and hard enough to tear a grown man's throat out but nestled safely behind a delighted smile.

Resting lightly on her other outstretched hand is a butterfly. Bright blue wings flitting nervously than pulling up sharply to escape the harassment of a monarch coming to take their perch.

Mar'I grins wider when a third butterfly, something tiny and yellow lands near her elbow. The contrast with her dark skin is striking and beautiful.

"Hey, Jay, you're supposed to hold your hand out so the butterflies land on it." She uses no more than a touch of alien strength to haul his arm up until it straight out from his body.

The bugs in the tiny sanctuary seem hesitant of him. None flying too close since he stepped through the netted door.

But Mar'I looks up at him with expectant green eyes. Waiting for her bug friends to come say hi.

They see the fire in him the way that most animals do. instinctively shying away from the one that smells like death. Ironic given he's heard butterflies often feed from corpses but maybe they aren't used to them moving around when they snack.

Mar'I has the normal patience of a six-year-old so when no friends land on Jay she holds out her bratty little monarch and slides her hand against his arm until the tiny bug legs are forced to step onto his skin.

It does not fly away only shift its fether like weight in the gentlest touch he's received in a long time. And he stays still afraid if he breathes the air may ruffle its wings.

But Mar'I is never so careful she wonders a bit trying to coax the pretty red and orange bugs out of the trees offering her hand carefully as she can with the strength of your average beefcake biker carefully contained in her thin little fingers.

He used to wonder, when she was just a baby and the fire in his veins had eaten away at everything in his life, if the fire would take her too. If he was that much of a monster. But Kor'I reminded him as she often does that Tameranians are fireproof.

#jg #original writing #drabble #jason todd #redhood #uncle jay #mar'i grayson #nightstar #kor'i #starfire #little mar'i #lazerus pit mentions #death mentions

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emotionalcello-makefanfics · 5 years ago

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Ferris Wheel (Jaydick Fanfic) Part 3/3

Summary :

Dick spotted bloodstains by the Ferris wheel that trails from the bottom cabin to the very top one. What he found inside is a boy can’t be older than 15, bleeding down from the stomach, and even so, he refuses to come down from the Cabin.

“I want to see the stars, one last time, just… one last time.” The boy still muses upon the sky, mesmerized. Dick looks up, and the starless sky that’s tinted red from light pollution. Then, with great sorrow and resignation, the boy whimpers, “You ruin that from me.”

Word count : 3.8k

Part 1 2

Click link to read on AO3

Click keep reading to read on tumblr~

Dick doesn’t tell anyone that he met Jason again. He already knows how they’ll react anyway.

Whoever Jason is, there’s a probability that he ditched him. Of course, Dick didn’t come to that conclusion lightly. All he got was his first name, and he thought it was all he needed. He looked for him after his shift, a teenager named Jason around the area. It staggers him how many Jasons there were in the whole city. In the end, Dick gave up after looking for weeks and came out empty-handed.

Another possibility –and possibly the worst one for Dick– is that Jason ghosted him. As time goes on, he’s starting to believe that one more.

Every day, from the start of his shift till the end, he lingers around the Ferris wheel longer than the other rides. Hoping he’ll catch Jason snooping in again and demand an explanation. But his hope dies with time as the days go on with no signs of that teenager with sad teal eyes.

In the end, Dick has to let go of Jason and the story he kept.

“You’re going home?” Barbara stops halfway through the door after seeing Dick still in front of his locker.

“Yeah, I’m staying till opening, I’m meeting with Steph.”

“Oh, okay, tell her I say hi!”

“I will.” Dick waves as Barbara closes the door behind her, leaving Dick alone in the staff room.

That’s a lie, Dick is not meeting Steph.

After changing into his washed jeans, and covered his light blue hoodie with a worn black jean jacket, Dick strolls around the park. His feet take him to the Ferris wheel yet again. He sits by the stairs where Jason did when they last saw each other.

Blame him all you want for still hoping, but he can’t stop himself doing so, even though he had tried persistently. This place pulls him. He would be on the way home and found himself here, waiting for something even himself isn’t sure of. Just like right now. He waits and wanders as nothing happens. As usual.

The sky gradually gains it’s brightness from the black of night to daybreak indigo. The brightest point in the sky is just behind the tip of the merry go round’s roof. A flock of birds flew towards it.

Or they should’ve.

There’re black specks in the sky, like blobs on your vision or dirt on your glasses. Dick blinks a couple of times to get rid of it, but it stays. When he stood up and shakes his head, his heart thumps. It’s not dirt in his eyes. His eyes feel fine, and the dirt doesn’t follow his vision, it sticks in one place in the sky, with clouds that don’t move.

It’s a bird, pausing in mid-air. Turning around, he sees the skinny hornbeam tree beside the queue area leaning extremely sideways and froze that way, as if blown by the icy wind that made them that way. A leaf right beside the tree stops in mid-air. Curious, he touched it, but he can’t move it. A leaf in the wind that sticks like a rock stuck on a surface with power glue.

Could he be dreaming? Or has he lost his mind completely?

He doesn’t get to answer that himself when a blinding light glares from the Ferris wheel. Dick whips around to face the light source.

The Ferris wheel isn’t turned on, but a screen of blinding white light fills inside the circle structure. There’s no other sound but Dick’s breath and static electricity coming from the electric sparks jolting around the metal tubing. Nothing else moves but Dick, the lights, and the dark human silhouette inside the lights that seem to be approaching closer. It’s so bizarre that the gears in his mind just stop trying to figure out why this is happening. It’s nothing Dick has ever seen before. Maybe on the TV, but he’s not on TV, is he?

The silhouette makes itself more prominent and clearer and as that person steps out of the light and walks down the booth, Dick can’t believe his eyes and who his mind is suggesting.

The man has some bulk on his body, maturity in his demeanor, but the familiarity of his features struck Dick with one person in mind, Jason.

The last time Dick saw him, he was a teenager. Shy and boyish as he asked him out for dinner. How could that boy turn into this man that looks like reaching his 40’s with a tired look of a century-year-old man.

Cleanly shaven, his jaws look sharper from the teenager Jason. Teal eyes set even deeper into his socket, topped with thick and coarse eyebrows that knit close to each other and set low on the brow ridge. A sharper look in his eyes, yet way kinder.

Before, Jason reached a little under Dick’s height, now Jason is gaining clear inches above him. There’s a stark awkward streak of white on his bangs which slightly curls and flails as he walks. His bomber jacket looks like a worn uniform with logos patched on the right breast and upper sleeves. His red shirt underneath looks as dark as congealed blood, paired with black cargo pants, gun garters snug on his thighs and black tactical boots.

He’s either here to fight or his style is just that edgy. Either way, Dick has a projectile taser and fast hands.

The man approaches Dick with that knowing smirk like they’re old friends, but the sentiment is not returned.

“You cause me a lot of hassle,” is this Jason’s first sentence, not giving the best impression of Dick, who takes full offense of that.

“Me?” Dick feels his neck tensed raising his voice that high. “You cause me a lot of hassle. Who are you? And what the fuck is that!” Dick waved at the Ferris wheel that still has a screen of glowing light inside it. There is no way no one sees this bright light, but then again, if Dick sees it, probably no one else does.

“This is a portal,” Jason points his thumbs at the light behind him. “And I’m Jason Todd, I’m here to fix the things you’ve been seeing.”

“Wait... What I’ve been seeing?” Dick repeated with a shriek, feeling constipated at what he had to digest. “You meant Jason? And your mom? But... you’re Jason too!”

“Uh huh, you’ve been seeing multiple versions of Jasons for other universes that happen to-”

“Wait, stop, please,” Dick felt like his head got pounded with that information. It’s terrible when his friends don’t believe him, but a person that popped out of the light finally agreeing with him doesn’t feel that good either.

“Oh God, I’m really going crazy, aren’t I? Babs was right, fudge my schtick every one of them is right. I should’ve stayed on meds,” Dick whispered to himself.

“Quit that, you’re not crazy,” Jason groaned, “I know you’re taking medication on this universe too, so you better stop that. You’re not having an episode.”

“How did you even know... I... whatever,” Dick huffed defeatedly.

“Chin up pretty boy, after I do what I came here to do, you’ll be just fine.”

“And what is it that you do, other Jason?” Dick crossed his arms, glaring at Jason with a combination of pissed off and mentally tired.

“I erase anomalies. I’m here to erase all the proof of the other universe ever repeated here. I’ve already deleted the security footage. Destroying the blood sample is a difficult one, no thanks to you for getting many people involved,” Jason narrowed his eyes at Dick, and Dick doesn’t feel a tinge of guilt. “And now, finally, you.”

Dick feels little goosebumps on his neck, “You’re gonna kill me?”

“No,” Jason raises his voice and grimaces offendedly, “I need to erase the memory where you’ve met the Jasons and this,” Jason waved to himself and the Ferris wheel.

“What, no!” Dick holds his head as if his hand can protect him from any mind-erasing devices, “I... I want to meet my universe you... We agreed to have dinner together.”

Jason visibly cringes, “That didn’t happen. That’s another you with another me, that didn’t happen to you, you just feel that it happens to you because... things got fucked up!” Jason just gave up halfway of explaining, and honestly, Dick doesn’t want to know either.

“But-But I felt it happened to me! I feel the weight of his body when I carried him out one of the cabin bleeding, and your mom holding onto me and... I-” Dick choked up on his own breath. Feeling tears threatening to spill at the things Jason implied.

“I know Dick, it’s all confusing, and I believe you. You’re not crazy,” Jason calmed, his voice sounds deep and soothing. “All of that isn’t supposed to happen. Things... happened, it’s difficult to explain.”

“Then why me? Why am I the only one that sees it?”

“We don’t know, and this is actually something special we’ve never encountered before,” Jason seems annoyingly excited, “You’re the only one in this universe that can see it for how it is.”

Dick groans, “Whatever, so what are you going to do now?”

“So, I’m here to fix the fucked up things that happen to you. But this will involve you, so you get to choose how I do it.

Dick doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at Jason, and gave him his silent approval.

“You can see and experience the universe being broken, we need someone like that in our department.”

It takes a few seconds of Jason's pointed look before Dick finally catches on, “You’re offering me your job? Me? Stopping time and making Ferris wheels glow?” Dick says incredulously with an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, it’s not an easy job, but just putting it out there, we’ve been keeping an eye on you and after some consideration, we’d like to take you in to watch over this universe.”

Dick doesn’t expect Jason replying to his sarcastic question seriously, but now Dick considers it seriously.

Heh, as if.

“And if I say no?”

“I’d have to erase the anomaly to fix it, meaning you won’t remember it ever happening.”

Dick feels his heart drop, “Wait... I won’t remember meeting this universe Jason?”

“You never met this universe Jason. It’s all been other universe’s Jasons.” Jason repeated, starting to sound impatient.

“Does that mean I won’t remember meeting the.... the Jasons?” Dick rephrased, the question leaving a bitter taste in his mouth for agreeing with this Jason.

“Nope.”

“No!”

“You’ve been telling me that a lot.”

“Because I don’t agree with you, or your suggestion, or any of this!” Dick waves his hands wildly around him, “It’s... it’s too much to take.”

“Well, not trying to be inconsiderate but you need to choose now,” Jason huffed impatiently, tapping his boots.

“I don’t want to lose my memory! I-I want to meet you. Wait, I mean, I want to meet this universe you.”

Jason’s face shifts into gloom, “You won’t meet this universe me.”

“Oh, come on, I know your full name now, I can get your 411 easy. Or what? You think you’re too good for me?”

Then Jason smiled, “Not that I wouldn’t like to shack up with you pretty boy, but I’m afraid you’re a bit too late.”

“And why is that?”

“This universe me died right there,” Jason pointed up.

Dick, who hasn’t completely taken the information in, slowly looks up to where Jason is pointing. The top of the Ferris wheel where Dick found Jason bleeding.

Then it hits Dick like a big chunk of iceberg to his Titanic, and his stomach makes a grand fall into the dark depth. He holds himself as if he’s holding his mental state together.

“But I... I turned the Ferris wheel on, and get you out of there and you walked away...” Dick whispered to himself as if saying it will make it real.

“In another universe, you did save me, but this universe me died there watching the sky. It’s not your fault though, you haven’t got this job yet when he climbed up there.”

Dick can’t look away from the cabin at the top. It felt like a second ago that he talked to that weird boy. Dick spent a whole day as a nervous and excited wreck, looking forward to having breakfast with him and getting to know the story behind his grim smile when he offered it. The thought of him had occupied his thoughts for months. Always thinking that they’ll meet, sooner or later. Even though, there are times when his hope dies down, in the end, his intuition came true in the way he’d never imagine.

To think, Dick never met that boy at all. That he never met his Jason all this time.

“Whatever happened to him, did it happen to you, too?” Dick’s voice as weak as a broken one.

When he looks at the Jason in front of him, he can see his Ferris wheel boy there, holding back a story behind his weak smile.

“Yes.”

He never thought that his Jason and this Jason is the same, he thought the circumstances must’ve been different since his Jason died and this Jason is still here. This doesn’t make that seem that way.

“Did someone saved you?” Dick asked again.

“Luck did. I woke up the next day still alive.”

Dick nods, smiling in relief. “Can I know what happened?”

Jason paused, thinking over it, “Only if you tell me about Kory.”

At the mention of her name, his heart stops for a beat. The memory of her body on their bed, lifeless. Her red hair stark against their olive green sheets, pouring to the floor. Her jade eyes open and empty, like the bottle of her sleeping pills in her hand.

“How... how did you know Kory?”

“You and I were more than friends in my universe,” Jason smirked.

There’s an irk spiked in Dick’s chest, burning, ugly, and weird jealousy, “Then just ask him.”

“My universe’s Dick died before he could tell me,” Jason deadpanned, and Dick was caught off guard by the weight of the words delivered with a tone contrary of that.

It’s not him, but in a way, it is him. And in a way, Jason lost him. Almost like Dick lost his Jason.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. He had nightmares about her, and never get to tell me who she is.”

“Oh.” Dick still has nightmares of her, sometimes he thinks he’ll come home and find her still sleeping on his bed. She’s the reason he takes the meds in the first place. “I guess that’s fair.”

It feels that he needs to know more about how his other self gets to have a relationship with Jason. Or how he died. He doesn’t even know if Jason’s Dick has the same Kory as him.

It wasn’t the point though, Dick knows that much. He wants to know what happened to Jason because of the same urge that Jason wants to know about Dick’s nightmares. An open wound that needs closure. Any closure.

Jason looks up, his eyes mellow as a soft smile graces his mature face, “Can we go up?”

“I can’t move anything. Everything froze over.

“Don’t worry about that.” Jason closed his eyes and breathes in. Deeply. Then he opened his eyes that were filled with the same blank white light as the Ferris wheel’s portal.

The wind blows shortly, the bent tall tree bounces back to straight, its leaves fall gracefully to the floor. But the clouds still haven’t moved, and the birds far away still frozen in time.

Jason exhales, and the light in his eyes dimmed out slowly, returning the teal and dark circles on his eyes. His lips smirking at Dick who’s half losing his mind and half amazed.

Dick turns the lights on but doesn’t rotate the Ferris wheel. For memories sake, Jason showed him how he climbed to the top. It’s surprisingly easy.

They both sit at the top of the Ferris wheel, their backs against the seat, looking up to the indigo sky as Jason tells his story and Dick tells his. The world around them is forever at dawn. Their eyes are on the sunlight that peeks behind the merry-go round’s roof. Often, they’ll look at each other.

They talk about the things they’ve never told anyone before. Guiltless and shameless, since the world feels to fall deaf to their stories but each other.

In frozen time, they sit at the top of the Ferris wheel. No one is stopping each other from talking, as if this will be their only chance to come clean with their burdens and sin. So, they stayed and talk as long as they please.

And none of them knows how much time has really passed.

+++++

Something is different about this amusement park. She can’t point it out, but it just feels foreign to her. One thing for sure is that she’s completely lost. Everyone is taller than her and she can’t see her moms. She’s sobbing but she won’t cry because she’s wearing her Captain Marvel jacket. Today she promised to be good so he can go to this park, so she’ll find a way to find her moms.

Her mama says, when she’s lost she needs to find someone in uniforms and tell them that she’s lost. As the six-year-old girl looks for someone with a uniform, she finds someone entirely different that puts everything else at halt.

A girl that looks just like her.

Not just anyone that’s wearing the same dress or having the same hair. She looks at the mirror for dress-up often enough that the girl in front of her is –well– her. Like a twin or the exact same copy of her. The other her is wearing a Wonder Woman shirt instead of her Captain Marvel Jacket, and a gold skirt instead of her jeans. But their hair is braided the same favorite way she liked, intertwined with blue ribbons.

She’s as speechless as her. Of course she is, they’re not staring at a mirror, but at each other! And as far as she knows, she’s not a twin, and she doesn’t have any other siblings yet.

“Callie!” Someone called and the girl in front of her looks back to the source of the voice.

That’s weird. She almost believed that they’re the same person, but her name is not Callie.

The girl named Callie runs towards the direction of the call, leaving her behind.

Being a lost little girl, her first instinct is to follow her copy, hoping to find her moms.

“Hey there! You must be lost.” Someone steps in front of her and she abruptly stops. She looks up to see the extension of the legs in front of her, then finally finds her smile.

It’s a security guard with hair as black and fabulous as Loki but with a friendly face and blue eyes like Captain America. Then a smile and kind eyes, just like a prince.

“Yes! I’m lost, I need to find my moms. I think I need to follow her,” She points to the direction her twin just ran off to, but she disappeared between the crowds already.

The security guy just smiles and bends his knees, “What’s your name, little girl?”

“Amalia.”

“That’s a pretty name, my name is Grayson.”

“That’s a pretty name too.”

“Why thank you!” the man smiles and he looks more handsome than the princes in Disneyland. “Come on, I’ll take you to your moms.” He offers his hand and she eagerly takes his hand.

With the guide of Grayson’s hand, they walk through the crowds. Amalia looks at her surroundings –as her mother always says– and she noticed that they’re walking towards the Ferris wheel.

“Are we not going to the announcement booth?” Amalia asked.

“Nope,” Grayson popped the p.

She doesn’t know when, but as soon as they step closer into the green grass area of the Ferris wheel everything else stops. The people, the music even the birds in the sky. Amalia turns her head wildly to see every little thing that pauses in mid-air and finds it fascinating. Before she knew it, she was already on the platform on the back of the Ferris wheel. There are some frozen people there, exiting the ride and their feet mid-air as they step down the platform.

Amalia finally looks away from gazing at the frozen bee right beside her when a bright light glares from the Ferris wheel. Inside the circle frame of the Ferris wheel filled with opaque white that glows. Amalia has never seen such a thing. Does every Ferris wheel does this?

“You need to go through now Amalia,” Grayson says, “You’ll meet your moms, the right ones.”

That would be great of course because Amalia is starting to miss her moms, but then he looks up to Grayson, and squeeze his hand tightly.

“I’m not going to see you again, am I?”

Grayson smiles like a prince and put his hand on top of her head.

“Maybe you will, but I’m not going to remember ever meeting you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the me on the other side of this portal hasn’t met you yet.”

She looks around again, to the people that stopped in time, to the big shining portal and the prince beside her.

“This is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me, and no one will ever believe me.” She sighed. She’s going to write this in her diary right, just in case she forgets or thinks she was imagining this.

“I was like you too, it sucked when there’s something happening to you but no one believes you.”

“Right!” she shouts too loud, but her prince just laughed. He’s truly the love destined for her, he’s the only one that doesn’t mind her big mouth.

“I believe that everyone is destined to be with another. No matter how wild the circumstances are. You’re going to find someone just for you, believe me.” Her prince stares into the portal and right then, she knew Grayson is not her prince. His face looks soft and kind when he smiles. He looks like how her mom looks at her mama.

She lets go of his hand in defeat but she won’t give up.

“Did you find someone who believes in you?” She asked.

“Yes,” he answers with a smile showing all his pearly teeth.

“How did you find them?” Amalia asked.

Grayson looks up to the top of the Ferris wheel with pursed lips. Whatever he’s racking up in his brain, it made him smile.

“I didn’t. He found me.”

#jaydick #jaydick fanfic #jason todd #dick grayson #jaydick ao3 #emocel's #Jason todd fanfic #dick grayson fan

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builder051 · 6 years ago

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It just snowed again here lol so I feel the cold. Could you do a fic where Jason gets locked out of the apartment/apartment building (my apartment building has doors outside that you go through and if you don’t have the key you’re fucked) and Colby finds him? Maybe hypothermia for Jason?

The first day of the new semester is dedicated to working out kinks. Jason knows that. He doesn’t expect to receive any homework as he waltzes around campus, every class releasing early after a casual overview of the syllabus.

One benefit of being a halfway through his junior year is the lighter schedule. He’s only on campus twice a week now, but, as he’s quickly learning, the aforementioned lightness is subjective. Tuesdays and Thursdays have him running from seminar to lecture to lab from 8 in the morning to 5 at night. And those are start times. It’s well past 7 when he finally trudges back to his car to drive home.

“Flop day, my ass,” Jason mutters, turning on the radio and scanning until he finds something that isn’t a commercial. He’d been irrationally proud of himself this morning, learning before the school day even commenced. When I’m a teacher, he’d written across the top of the first page of a fresh spiral notebook, don’t start coursework on first day. Set expectations. Expect schedule changes. Then he’d missed the professor’s introduction because he was too busy beating himself up over the two iterations of the word “expect” so close together.

Jason can’t believe how tired he is. Some of it is misinformation, his brain attempting to process his surroundings and doing it badly. It’s barely past the dinner hour, but dark enough to be midnight. He may not have any reading to do when he gets home, but he’s still been gone for more than 8 hours. Exhaustion is a natural response, even if it isn’t helpful or expected.

A flutter of panic runs through his stomach as he thinks of what’s in store for him tomorrow. He’s starting his first run of student teaching, meeting his mentor and the principal of the local high school bright and early tomorrow morning. Will he be able to get enough sleep? It’s so late…

No, he reminds himself. It’s not. The car clock says it’s 7:26. Twelve hours before he has to be somewhere again. Twelve hours, what a relief. Or should he be thinking only 12 hours? Is that really enough time? Does he have a shirt to wear that isn’t horribly wrinkled? There’s enough time to iron, isn’t there? Do they even have an iron?

And so it goes. For almost half an hour. Traffic is stop-and-go, a mix of late commuters and folks on their way to and from the smattering of restaurants ringing the campus. Jason thinks about stopping to pick up something to eat, but he lacks the motivation to even pull into a drive-thru. He’ll have to watch that. make sure it doesn’t become a habit.

Eventually Jason reaches the parking lot of the apartment complex. He pulls his Corolla besides Mike’s frosty Rav-4, proof that she’s been home for hours already. If only he could count on her to cook dinner. He laughs to himself, wishing Colby was the one who got off mid-afternoon. But alas, his partner is stuck in the awkward phase of proving himself and working long shifts in between the holiday and regular retail seasons, while his stubborn sister is inside, probably reading with headphones on and oblivious to Jason’s imminent arrival. Jason shakes his head. At least Mike doesn’t take up much space.

He slings his bag over his shoulder and runs toward the building, skidding slightly on the ice around the edges of the lot. He swipes the RFID fob on his keyring across the sensor situated on the other side of the glass door. Jason doesn’t hear the requisite beep, but he assumes his chattering teeth have just drowned out the soft sound. He hadn’t thought he’d need gloves and a hat when the only time he’d be spending outside would be spent walking briskly, but he wishes he had them now. He reaches for the door handle and yanks, but it stays resolutely shut.

“The hell?” Jason mutters. He swipes his keyring again, listening closely. Again he hears only silence. “Hm.” He cups his hands around his eyes like binoculars and looks through the glass, trying to find the source of the problem. It’s hard to see in the dark, but the kiosk with the sensor seems to be glowing with its usual pinprick of orange light.

Jason swipes a third time, looking and listening this time. Still nothing. He gives the door a good smack with the pinky side of his fist. The warm brightness shakes, and the jagged edges of something papery tremble into existence. A leaf or a gum wrapper or something, trapped between the glass and the sensor, perfectly positioned to interrupt whatever invisible means the key fob uses to communicate with the kiosk.

“Ugh. Fuck.” Jason smacks the door again, then stupidly pulls on the handle. Hitting it won’t unlock it, he knows. But the situation is frustrating. Jason looses a few more choice words, then slowly pulls in a deep breath. He blows out a cloud of steam.

There is a simple solution, though it’s mortifying. Jason digs in his pocket for his phone to call Mike and ask to be let in. He feels like a dog scratching at the door. He taps his phone’s dark screen, but nothing happens. At first he wonders if his mind is playing tricks again, since the door just pulled the same one, but then the realization hits him and his stomach turns to a bucket of ice. He ran out of battery before stepping into his last class.

It’s his own fault for leaving his headphones plugged in with Pandora streaming for an entire class period. Jason tells himself he’ll carry a charger with him at all times from now on, but it does nothing to fix the current problem. “God fucking dammit, Mike!” he yells, pacing back and forth in front of the door. “Decide to go check the mail or something!”

But she won’t. Jason knows she won’t. Mike is… lazy is the wrong word, but Jason’s shivering seems to be interrupting his thoughts with sharp spikes like those produced by a seismograph. Sparing. That’s more accurate. If something isn’t her problem, she’ won’t volunteer to make it her problem. Once she’s safely in the apartment for the night, there’s little chance Mike will step out of her bedroom, let alone the front door.

They originally chose this complex for its safety features, but now Jason hates them. The 10-foot brick wall surrounding the grid of row houses is too steep to scale, and if he tries, he’ll only mangle his fingers. He imagines drops of blood running down his palms and freezing before they hit the ground. Jason feels faintly nauseated. If he pukes, that will probably freeze, too. At least his stomach is empty.

He wonders vaguely how long it takes to starve to death. Then how long it takes to die of exposure. If he gets back in his car, he might be warmer, but he’ll have to run the engine to run the heater. Jason’s gas tank is rarely over half full, and today topping up was another activity on the list to do later. Plus, people are more likely to see him up here by the door. Someone will come in or out soon.

It’s still early. Right? Jason checks his watch. It’s almost 8. Time for… what do they watch on Tuesdays? He’s too cold. He can’t think. He bounces on the balls of his feet, vocalizing indistinctly and listening to his pitch change as it bounces off the glass and echoes back at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” a muffled voice asks.

Jason spins around to see a tall, slender figure, almost unrecognizable under a hat, scarf, and shabby parka.

“Ohmygod.” Jason feels faint with relief. He trips toward Colby, unintentionally tackling him and sending him ass-first onto the pavement.

“Whoa, ok.” Colby says, his voice halfway between amused and concerned. “Good to see you too.” He clasps Jason’s hands between his mittens. “What’cha doing out here? Besides trying to give me a concussion”

“Freezing to death,” Jason breathes, burying his nose in Colby’s shoulder.

“You lose your keys or something? Did you walk here?” Colby looks around wildly.

“No,” Jason says, trying to determine if it’s worth it to explain. His brain gets hung up halfway through. “Did you walk here?”

“Nah, Gil dropped me off halfway down the block,” Colby says. He uses his thumb to stroke Jason’s red nose. “Who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend? Since when are you worried about me before you’re worried about you? Not that, like, that’s a bad thing. It’s just a ‘you’ thing.”

“Sheesh.” Jason tries to roll his eyes, but he feels faint again.

“Here, let’s go inside.” Colby starts to pull him up.

“No, you gotta, um, you gotta…” Jason can’t stop stuttering. “You gotta call Mike.”

“Why?” Colby looks at him like he’s gone nuts.

“Don’t ask. Long story.” It’s not actually that long, but Jason shakes his head anyway. “Just do it.”

“Ok?” Colby takes off one mitten and pulls his phone out of his coat pocket. “But I get the full explanation later, right?”

“Yeah,” Jason agrees without thinking. “But call her fast. I’m fucking cold.”

“You know, I would have never guessed,” Colby laughs as he dials and holds the device to his ear.

#oc fic #mike & co #mike deangeles #jason deangeles #colby carson #casa deangles-carson #colby and jason #sickfic #cold #hypothermia #hurt/comfort #angst

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quaquaversall · 6 years ago

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Sanders Sides Trench Headcanons pt. 5

This is the final part of my Sanders Sides Trench headcanons series! Masterpost to all parts.

TW’s: self hate, depression, suicide, gender dysphoria, sickness, heartbreak, crying. If there’s anything else, please let me know!

Bold/italic: song lyrics that support the concept

Italic: a characters direct thoughts

Pet Cheetah: (Logan)

When Logan felt wrong being called male, he didn’t acknowledge it. And yet, he knew it was quite plausible that he was not male.

He’d spent years hating how he looked, sometimes hating how he dressed, hating how much he felt like a male.

And he never even questioned it until now.

The problem is, he knows he can’t tell the others. What if they judge him? What if they reject him? What if he was wrong in the first place?

So what does he do? What he does best, hide his emotions. (“I am on an island, no one to confide/Eight days straight, eight hours each and not one line/I can feel pressure start to possess my mind/So, I'll take this beat I should delete to exercise“)

Logan hides his secret but that doesn’t stop him from researching in his free time. He conjures up feminine clothing, tries different pronouns when referencing to himself. He starts to like who he is, he accepts himself. He decides he’s not male, he’s nonbinary, with a preference for feminine things. They spend so much time alone, cultivating this image of themself that they love. (“I've got a pet cheetah down in my basement/I've raised him, and bathed him/And named him Jason Statham. I'm showing my faces in just enough places”)

But they’re terrified, so unbelievably terrified to come out. They stick to their normal clothing, they hurt silently when they reference them in the wrong way, but this was the better alternative, because if they lost their friends over this?

They wouldn’t be able to handle it.

(“I'm done with tip-toeing, I'll stay in my room/My house is the one where the vultures are perched on the roof. This clique means so much to this dude/It could make him afraid of his music/And be scared to death he could lose it”)

Legend:

Patton had spent his whole life waiting for his soulmate. The kind, intelligent, creative soul tied to him. He spent the first thirty years of his life waiting for them, hope diminishing day by day. Eventually, he gave up, accepting the fact that maybe he just didn’t have one at all.

Until the day he met Logan.

They ran into each other at a park, Logans tea dropped on the grass and Patton on the ground as they collided.

It took a long minute before Logan whispered softly, awed, “You’re my soulmate?”

That’s all it took for Patton’s heart to swell, standing quickly and introducing himself, instantly falling for Logan’s soft eyes and compelling attitude.

That was when they shyly agreed to meet for lunch, and before Patton knew it, his heart had given itself to this boy. (“You were one of those classic ones/Traveling around this sun. You're a legend in my own mind/My middle name/My goodbye”)

When they arrive they sat down, blushing cheeks and nervous hands intertwined. And when Logan reached for the check, his sleeve rode up a little, revealing his soul mark.

Patton’s heart dropped to his stomach. (“You were one of those classic ones/I wish she knew you (I wish she knew you)”)

Patton started to cry right there, overcome with emotion as he saw the familiar mark. Logan immediately rushed to his side, asking what was wrong.

Patton’s heart broke for the second time that day when he had to explain that he did not share the same mark, no, but he knew someone who did. His dead brother, Virgil. (“(I wish she knew you)”)

Patton sputtered out stories of Virgil’s passing, a teenager having gotten too ill. He pulls out Virgil’s necklace, the golden flower Patton had once given him before class. Logan reached out slowly, touching the flower that drew him to Patton. The flower that was his last connection to his soulmate. It’s not long before Logan stiffens, tears running down his own face, leaving. All romantic interest in Patton gone.

And Patton cries, knowing Logan took his heart with him when he rushed out of the cafe. And it’s bittersweet as Patton sits to this day, alone, wishing it had gone differently. (“You were here when I wrote this/But the masters and mixes/Will take too long to finish/To show you. When your eyes did not know me/Like I know you. Then the day that it happened/I recorded this last bit/I look forward to having/A lunch with you again.”)

Leave the City: (Logan, Virgil, Patton, and Roman, Platonic LAMP)

All four of the main sides have dealt with mental health issues before, but sometimes it all gets too much. There have been many times where each side has had dark thoughts. Roman hating his work, thinking he’s a failure. Patton thinking he’s a bother, thinking he’s useless. Virgil knowing he’s a nuisance, thinking he’s weak for not moving on already. Logan never believing he’s good enough, thinking that he’s hurting Thomas. These thoughts have led to some unpleasant deliberations. (“I'm tired/Of tending to this fire/I've used up all I've collected/I have singed my hands/It's glowing/Embers barely showing/Proof of life in the shadows/Dancing on my plans. The burning/Is so low it's concerning/'Cause they know that when it goes out/It's a glorious gone/It's only/Time before they show me/Why no one ever comes back/With details from beyond”)

But everytime a side gets too close to the edge, they remember that Thomas needs them, so they just return to their isolated state of darkness, not telling anyone. “(They know that it's almost/They know that it's almost over. In time, I will leave the city/For now, I will stay alive”)

And with every other side constantly referencing how nobody is alone, how everyone should let themselves feel and get help, they all individually think that that doesn’t apply to me. All the other sides are fine, I need to be too. And maybe they’re technically not alone, but god does it feel like they are. (“Last year/I needed change of pace/Couldn't take the pace of change/Moving hastily/But this year/Though I'm far from home/In TRENCH I'm not alone”)

#tw self hate #tw depression #tw suicide #tw sickness #tw heartbreak #tw crying #gender dysphoria #sanders sides trench angst headcanons

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drink-the-midnight-oil · 7 years ago

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Choices

Summary: Betty Cooper is forced to make a choice between the Northside and the Southside when she is threatened by an unidentified criminal. Will she choose the home she’s always known and the mask she’s worn for her whole life? Or will she choose the dark path to new beginnings? In this oneshot, Betty is compelled to decide where her loyalties truly lie.

“Back before eight, Elizabeth,” Alice called after her daughter as Betty headed out the front door. “Your father and I have that meeting with Mayor McCoy tonight.”

“I know, mom,” Betty replied pulling the door shut behind her. She walked down the sidewalk, on her way to the bus stop. As she passed the Andrews residence, she noticed that it was unusually quiet. Fred would be off at work, but where was Archie?

Her question was answered when she saw him walking up the sidewalk towards her, his red-hair sticking out every which way. There was a look of worry on his face, but that wasn’t abnormal.

Ever since Fred Andrews had been shot, reports of kidnappings and murders in Riverdale had increased. The newspapers were filled with reports of teens going missing or someone being found lying in a pool of blood in their home. Black Hood hadn’t been caught, and this had caused a state of paranoia in Archie. He had almost gone crazy trying to find Black Hood, losing interest in music and football altogether. He stopped talking to any of his friends and after a few futile efforts, they gave up, except Betty. But that was inevitable, considering that they were next door neighbors. It had also strained his relationship with Veronica, ultimately resulting in them breaking up. No matter how hard they tried, no one could bring back the old music-loving jock.

“Hey, Betty,” Archie greeted. “Where are you off to?”

“I’m going to see Jughead,” Betty answered knowing what was about to come. Archie’s expression hardened.

“Jughead’s a Serpent, Betty. It’s not safe for you to be with him. His kind? They’re all criminals. Who knows? Maybe he’s helping protect Black Hood.”

Betty sighed. Archie had made it clear that he thought Black Hood was a Southside Serpent. And ever since Jughead had put on that leather jacket and joined the Serpents, Archie called him a traitor.

“Archie, Jughead isn’t a bad guy. And there’s no proof that Black Hood is a Serpent,” Betty said.

“I’ll get proof,” Archie replied. “You should stay away from him, Betty. He’s not good for you. The Northsiders and the Southsiders have always despised each other. You need to remember what you are. Or you might find yourself in trouble.”

“I don’t believe that. And I know that deep down, neither do you. Jughead’s your best friend, Archie.”

There was a steely expression on Archie’s face as he replied.

“No, Betty. He was my best friend.”

Betty gazed out the window as the bus drove through the streets, on its way to the Southside. She could see how the town had changed ever since Black Hood had planted the seed of fear in everyone’s minds. The buildings had lost the vibrancy and warmth that they used to radiate. The shopkeepers weren’t as friendly as they used to be. Now, the peeling paint and gloomy atmosphere made it all feel unwelcoming. The cracked facade of their once beautiful town had let in misery and angst.

The houses and shops changed as the bus entered the Southside. Shabbier homes, teens smoking in alleys, graffiti on the sides of buildings. The complete opposite of the perfect Northside. To an outsider, it would appear dark and standoffish, but to Betty it was like a second home. She would come almost everyday to see Jughead. The other Serpents knew her as the Prince’s girl, and they all liked and respected her.

The bus pulled up at her usual stop and she got down. It was only a few blocks from here to the Whyte Wyrm. It was a breezy fall evening and the leaves patterned the sidewalk in a colorful array. Betty walked to the bar, the foliage crunching under her feet. The road was quiet and Betty could hear the steady hum of music playing as she approached the bar.

From the distance she could make out two figures standing and talking. A tall, burly boy and a shorter girl. As Betty got closer, the girl shook her head at the boy, her pink streaks shining in the neon glow of the bar’s sign. Betty smiled to herself. Only one Serpent had those signature pink streaks. Toni Topaz.

Toni turned her head and saw Betty, a smile lighting up her face.

“Hey Betty,” she called, waving her over.

“Betty! How’s the Prince’s girl doing today?” the burly guy said. Sweet Pea.

“Hi guys,” Betty smiled. It was nice to see friendly faces. It had been a while since she had seen Veronica, and Kevin was always busy helping out his dad at the sheriff's station. "Where's Jughead?"

"Inside, talking to Tall Boy," Toni answered.

“Thanks,” She waved goodbye to the two Serpents and headed inside.

The bar was dimly lit and crawling with leather jacket clad Serpents ordering drinks or playing pool. Music was playing loudly and it was humid inside. There was a steady clinking of glasses. Betty smiled to herself. Even in the midst of all the drama and chaos happening in Riverdale, the Southside Serpents managed to stay united, unlike the Northsiders who were sullen and hostile.

Betty made her way through the crowded bar, waving and smiling at the familiar faces. She spotted Jughead at the back, sitting at the table and in the middle of an intense conversation with one of the older Serpents, a man called Tall Boy. He was wearing the Serpent jacket, looking as good as ever. His dark hair was tousled, one curl resting on his forehead. He didn’t wear his beanie anymore, but Betty could see a small corner of it sticking out from his jacket pocket.

Jughead caught sight of her, a smile appearing on his face. He said something to Tall Boy and stood up. There was a new way in which he held himself, taller and prouder, when he walked. Long gone was the shy introvert and he had been replaced with a man who knew exactly what he wanted. The other Serpents made way for him, as if he was their prince. Being a Serpent suited him. In response, Betty’s heart stuttered.

“Hey Betts,” Jughead said. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” Betty replied. Jughead had been out of town for a few days on some Serpent business (”Nothing illegal,” he had assured her), and her heart ached for him every second that he was gone.

Jughead took her hand and led her to the staircase behind the bar. There was a set of stairs that went up to the roof and a set that went down to the basement. The sound of men talking came from below them, and Betty and Jughead shared a look. Jason Blossom. Neither had been brave enough to go down there, knowing that a father had shot his son in that place. Jughead’s grip on Betty’s hand tightened and he led her upstairs.

A blast of cold air hit Betty’s face as Jughead opened the door leading out to the rooftop. Betty closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath, grateful for the cool night air. They went to the edge of the roof and sat down, their legs hanging off.

“How have you been?” he asked her.

“Fine, I guess,” Betty answered. “Where did you go this time?”

Jughead looked out into the distance, the light reflecting off of his blue eyes. “Someone forgot to make a payment for our services. We.... went to get it.”

“What do you mean ‘went to get it’ ?” Betty asked, alarmed.

Jughead looked at her and smiled. “We didn’t beat him up, if that’s what you’re asking. It was just a reminder that a payment was due. He payed up.”

Betty stared at him, unconvinced. Jughead sighed.

“Betty, you know that I wouldn’t hurt a fly. And besides, the guy was ready with the money. I would have talked it out if there had been a problem.”

Betty smiled, relieved. Jughead put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled of cologne with an undertone of smoke. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Hey, how’s Archie been?” Jughead asked suddenly.

Betty looked up at him. “Not much better, Juggie. He’s still trying to solve everything himself.”

Jughead gave her a small nod. “Does he still think Black Hood’s a Serpent?”

“Yes. I don’t ever think he’s ever going to waver.”

Jughead was silent. Losing his best friend had been hard on Jughead, especially at a time like this when they all should’ve stuck together.

“Jughead...” Betty started. “Do you think it’s safe for us to be together?”

Jughead took his arm off of Betty’s shoulder. “What made you ask that?”

“Archie. He said that it was dangerous for us to see each other. I’m a Northsider and you’re a Serpent.”

“Betty, are you breaking up with me?” Jughead asked, hurt.

“No, god no, Jughead,” Betty answered. “I just don’t want any problems because I’m a Northsider. I don’t want the other Serpents angry with me.”

“Betts, all the Serpents love you. You aren’t like the other Northsiders. You’re the epitome of a good person. Remember how you refused to give up on my dad when he was almost incarcerated? And how you saved Pop’s from closing? And what about Jason’s murder? Who solved that?” Jughead smiled at her. “You aren’t creating the problems. You’re solving them. And this town should be indebted to you for all you’ve done.”

Betty gave Jughead a grateful smile. Leave it to him to make her feel better.

He took her hands and enclosed them in his. “Look at me, Betty.”

Betty looked up into Jughead’s blue eyes which had darkened to a midnight hue.

“I love you, Betty Cooper. With every piece of me. Don’t ever forget that.”

Betty looked at him through the tears which had pooled in her eyes.

“And I love you, Jughead Jones. So very much.”

Jughead kissed her, there in the moonlight. It was all the uncertainty and desperation they had ever had. It was letting go of the labels on them as Northsider and Southsider. It was forgetting the repercussions they would face when the civil war came. It was a promise that whatever happened, they would keep each other safe.

Betty watched Jughead leave on his motorcycle after dropping her home. Her parents had gone out to meet Mayor McCoy and wouldn’t be back home anytime soon. Betty went to her bedroom and fell onto the bed, letting out a long sigh. So maybe she and Jughead were Romeo and Juliet. It didn’t matter. She loved him and he loved her. Nothing could change that.

A crash coming from the kitchen startled Betty. Nobody else was home. So what made that noise. She grabbed the can of pepper spray in her purse and quietly tip toed downstairs. She could make out a shadow in the light coming in through the big window in the living room.

What if it’s Black Hood? she thought, a prickle of fear running up her spine. Her heart was pounding as she drew closer to the shadow. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead and she tightened her grip on the can.

Suddenly, the shadow disappeared. Betty went into the kitchen, but it was empty. All of a sudden, she felt a large gloved hand cover her mouth and a person was dragging her behind. Panic seized her and she tried to scream but the person’s hand muffled the sound. The can of pepper spray came up and she hit the person on the head as hard as she could. The hands released her with a grunt and the figure stumbled backwards. Betty spun to see a man standing there, dressed in black, a hood on his face. Black Hood.

Betty let out a scream and started running towards the door. She almost made it but Black Hood grabbed her leg and she stumbled and fell. Betty kept screaming but Black Hood covered her mouth. He put his face close to her ear.

“A mouse shouldn’t be playing with snakes.”

And then he was gone. The front door burst open, and Archie stood there breathing heavily, a gun in hand. He spotted Betty on the floor and ran to her.

“Wha- what happened?” he asked, out of breath. “I heard a scream and came as fast as I could.”

Betty sat up and pulled her knees up to her chin, shivering.

“Black Hood,” she whispered.

“WHAT!? Black Hood was HERE??” Archie sounded terrified. He sun around in a circle. “Where is he?”

“He’s gone,” Betty said, the shock settling in. Black Hood had been here, in her kitchen. He could have killed her but he didn’t.

“What did he do?” Archie asked. Betty told him what he had whispered.

The look of terror on Archie’s face turned to one of anger.

“I told you not to socialize with the Serpents. I told you to stay away from Jughead. He could have killed you, Betty!!!!” Archie was pacing now.

“Can’t you see???!!! Jughead isn’t good for you!!! You are a Northsider. He is a goddamn SERPENT. It isn’t safe for you to to be together.”

“Archie, where did you get that gun?”

Archie stopped pacing and looked at Betty.

“I got it from Dilton Doiley. After my dad was shot. It’s for protection.” he sounded tired. “You are going to have to make a choice, Betty. The Northside or the Southside. The war is coming soon. And God help you should you choose wrong.”

Archie left, banging the door behind him. Betty sat there, silent. She wanted to cry but no tears came. So instead, she waited in the dark, not knowing for what.

The next day was hectic. The police had come to investigate and they were swarming the house, looking for clues. Betty and her parents had been pegged with interview all day. She hadn’t told Jughead what happened. She didn’t want him to worry. Instead she texted him saying that she wouldn’t be able to make it tonight and she would see him tomorrow. He had said alright and that he loved her. A pang of guilt had shot through her chest when she read that. She didn’t want to lie to him but she didn’t want to worry him either.

That night, she got into bed assuring her parents that she would be alright sleeping alone. But Betty couldn’t fall asleep. A feeling of dread came over her, as if something bad was about to happen. It wasn’t until much later that she fell asleep.

* * *

The buzzing noise from her phone woke Betty up in the middle of the night. She sat up groggily and looked at the clock. 1:00 am. She unlocked her phone to see an urgent text from Toni.

Betty, Archie’s here in the Southside. He’s yelling at Jughead. And he’s got a gun.

Betty ran from the bus stop down to the Whyte Wyrm as fast as her feet could carry her. She had pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and raced down to catch the late bus to the Southside. Her heart was pounding and her lungs hurt as she ran through the chilly night. She could see a large crowd of people standing in a circle outside the bar.

Betty pushed through the crowd, desperate to get to the front. The Serpents were pulling her back, you’ll only make this worse, girl. But Betty didn’t care. She had to keep Jughead safe.

She managed to make it to the front, running out into the open center.

Jughead was standing there, his jacket on the ground next to him. He was saying something in a low voice to Archie. And Archie. Archie was standing a few feet in front of Jughead, a gun in his hand pointing at Jughead’s chest.

Betty felt her heart spasm as she took in the sight. The two boys saw Betty staring at them, a wild look on her face.

A terrified look appeared on Jughead’s face when he saw her standing there. He gave her a small shake of his head.

Get out of here before he does something. Go. NOW!!!

Betty didn’t move.

Archie looked at her, his face growing redder. He turned back to Jughead.

“You need to stay away from her, Jones. Do you hear me?” Archie said in a dangerously low voice.

“Archie put down the gun and let’s talk this out. Come on,” Jughead replied, his hands out in front of him.

“No. She almost DIED Jughead. She almost died last night. Because of you and all your Serpents.”

Sweet Pea growled at him and took a step forward but Jughead held out his arm, stopping him.

“What do you mean, Archie?”

A look of cruel surprise crossed Archie’s face. “She didn’t tell you?”

Betty’s heart nearly stopped. This is not how Jughead needed to hear, not like this.

“Black Hood came to her house last night. He threatened her. He told her to stay away from the Serpents or she would get hurt.”

A look of hurt and confusion mixed with horror appeared on Jughead’s face. He looked at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I-I-I didn’t want to worry you,” Betty answered, her hands in fists. She felt her nails digging into her palms and breaking her skin.

Jughead’s eyes flitted to her hands and then back to Archie’s face.

“Archie put the gun down. Now.”

“No,” Archie said. “You need to stay away from her Jughead. It’s for her own good. And I know she won’t listen to me. So I have to do this.”

And Archie’s finger pulled the trigger.

Time seemed to slow down in front of Betty’s eyes. Serpents running forward and grabbing Archie. Jughead slowly falling to the ground, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. The gun falling from Archie’s hand as he stared at Jughead’s fallen form. A gut-wrenching scream pierced the air and she realized belatedly that it was coming from her.

She ran to Jughead, her stomach twisted into a knot. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow. The bullet had hit him on the left side of his chest which was now bloody. She peeled off her sweater and balled it up, pressing it to the wound to prevent blood loss. But there was so much blood already. Toni was next to her in a flash, telling her that it would be alright. Tears were blurring Betty’s vision.

Not Jughead. Please not Jughead, she prayed silently.

Suddenly she remembered Archie. She stood up and turned around to see him being held there by the Serpents, a bloody lip and a bruise forming under his eye.

A storm of rage flooded through her, the tears disappearing. After what had happened to his father, how could Archie have done this?

Betty looked Archie straight in the eye.

“You wanted me to choose between the Northside and the Southside, Archie Andrews. Hear me as I tell you my decision. I choose the Southside.”

The Serpents stared at her in silent awe as she picked Jughead’s jacket up off the ground and slipped her arms into the cool leather. And in that moment, she looked positively regal. No longer was she the Northside mouse, the kind-hearted goody two shoes, the perfect girl next door. A fire had been ignited in her soul. This wouldn’t be a Romeo and Juliet story. It would be a Bonnie and Clyde story.

Riverdale’s civil war was coming. And Betty knew whose side she would be fighting on.

Hi guys:)

I hope you enjoyed reading this oneshot. I thought it would be cool to write something where Betty puts on the leather jacket. Ride or die, amirite? I would love to hear your feedback regarding this oneshot. Thanks for reading <3

#betty cooper #badass betty #dark betty #jughead jones #bughead #southside serpents #riverdale #bughead fanfiction

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mannunope · 8 years ago

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HOO Superhero AU

This pretty much covers the Olympians. Percy, Annabeth, Frank, Hazel, Jason, Piper, Leo, and Nico. They only unite for large scale threats, like Kronos, an immortal time controlling warrior from the Bronze Age, Calamity, a woman who can shake the Earth to it’s very core and the one responsible for the destruction of the Atlanteans, and the Snow Queen, a woman who controls and creates a deadly form of ice that is poisonous even to the Olympians. She seeks to freeze the whole world over with her lethal ice and leave no survival for humanity.

Alright so I couldn’t keep this in. I cannot stop thinking of a superhero AU for PJO, and I’ll be damned if I take it to my grave.

Percy

His superhero alias is the Typhoon.

He can control water, it’s temperature, and has control over it’s two other states (vapor and ice).

He swims crazy fast. Like, 240 mph crazy fast.

He is strong enough to lift 25 tons above land.

He can lift 50 tons when under or submerged in water.

If the situation deems it necessary, Percy can create tsunamis and hurricanes.

On one scary occasion, he controls blood and poison. He has only used this ability once.

Percy has divinity over all sea animals. He’s pretty tight with the Loch Ness Monster, though.

He doubles as Percy Jackson, 20 year old lifeguard and college student majoring in marine biology.

For in those really tough spots, water heals Percy of almost any wound.

So basically, Percy is a way cooler Aquaman.

He wields an indestructible glowing bronze cutlass (a lil pirate theme) with blue Atlantean runes that glow whenever he uses his powers. It’s an ancient Atlantean sword found under the ruins of Atlantis, only to be wielded by it’s king.

Percy’s been a superhero since the age of fourteen.

His role in the Olympians is the loose cannon/the glue that keeps them together. He sometimes takes charge in areas where Jason lacks the strength to.

Annabeth

So her name is totally the Silver Owl.

Annabeth has eidetic memory.

She had a genius level intellect with an IQ of 205.

She is an excellent strategist...so don’t ever go against her in chess. She can and will demolish you.

She is a pro gymnast and acrobat, with a ninth degree black belt in karate. She has peak human everything. So yeah...she kicks ass.

Annabeth can become naked to the human eye.

Later on, she also can become intangible, allowing for gruesome torture tactics on spies and villains that won’t talk. She rarely does this.

Annabeth engineered these awesome silver wings that are almost sentient.

They are synced up to her mind, so they react like extra limbs.

Her wings’ feathers are deadly and razor sharp. With a single thought, Annabeth can fire them machine gun style at an enemy.

These feathers are magnetic, so they return back to her wings once their uses are fulfilled.

These feathers can break through steel.

By day she is a part time librarian and a 21 college student getting her masters in Architecture.

She serves as the strategist of the group and the voice of reason.

She’s been at this superhero shit since the age of nine.

Frank

I struggled with this one, but the superhero name I came up with for him is the Crimson Beast.

Frank can turn into any beast imaginable.

Unicorn? Been there, done that.

Dragon? Please, don’t make him laugh.

Lizard with the butt of a donkey? Frank would hate to admit it, but he’s tried it before.

He is crazy strong. His limit is 75 tons.

Frank can telepathically communicate with any animal in existence.

He is honestly bulletproof.

For some reason, when I think of superhero!Frank, I think of a X from Magnus Chase. So yeah, berserker!Frank.

When you piss Frank off too hard, he becomes an invulnerable, nigh unstoppable force of nature.

He is one of the two legacies on the team. A legacy is a descendent of a superhero. Frank’s father, Berserker,

He serves as the muscle of the team.

Don’t worry though, he’s still a softie on the inside. He’s an 20 year old college student who majors in Veterinary Medicine.

Frank’s been at this doing his thing since he was 15.

Hazel

She is the Misteria

Hazel summon’s jewels to her aide, as well as being able to cause earthquakes.

Her eyes glow a golden yellow when she uses her “Mist” abilities.

Her “Mist” can curse objects and people with bad luck.

She can fire her jewels straight from the ground with some thought.

It eventually gets to the point where she can summon a layered and protective barrier of gems to protect her from most any attack.

Her mist control can also erase memories

A strong 40 tonner.

Hazel doesn’t even wield her sword. She controls it telepathically.

Hazel is a high school sophomore who just wants to prove herself. She lives with her half brother Nico di Angelo and their father, Hades.

She works at her father’s jewelry store with Piper.

Jason

Now presenting to you, the paragon of justice- Skybolt!

This dude can fly.

He can control the winds and storms.

Jason can fly at speeds up to 250 mph.

He’s pretty strong-a 40 tonner.

He can create a funnel of wind to misdirect most long distance attacks.

Jason fights with the use of his electrokinesis.

He’s a long ranged type of guy, who likes blasting his enemies from afar.

He is struggling with the concept of electromagnetism, while his older sister, Thalia, was bomb af at it.

He is much more comfortable with his air powers though, and can literally take one’s breath away. Tornadoes are his shit.

Best believe he is the golden boy and the leader of the Olympians.

He is known for keeping calm in tough situations.

He is constantly trying to live up to his powerful father, Captain Jupiter’s expectations.

He’s been superheroing ever since he was 6 years old and thrust into the role as Captain Jupiter’s sidekick since Thalia pulled a Nightwing.

Eventually he grows out of the sidekick role and owns villains on his own terms.

He is an 20 year old college student studying economics.

Piper

Her name is Nightingale

Her voice is appealing to anyone who hears it.

Like it takes the sound of whatever sound is most appealing to the person.

It lulls you asleep as your body takes over to whatever she wants you to do.

Her power is hypnosis, and she uses that to her advantage a lot.

This power has grown to the point where she can even control animals and mass (100-200) hordes of people before using up energy.

She also uses a form of precognition, in which she can see glimpses of the future.

She can also sense feelings. She has to touch the person first in order to gain this.

This indirectly allows her to find the most important tie to their soul (the person’s most powerful memory).

She can also bring the recently dead back to life. She can restart a heart and lessen pain intake with her sweet, soft voice.

By day she is an 20 year old, insanely talented journalist.

She often functions as the distraction in missions.

Leo

Leo is Infierno.

He, obviously, has pyrokinesis.

His white hot flames can mend steel.

Leo is very pissed that the Human Torch in comics can fly but he can’t.

He has found a way by inventing the F.E.S.T.U.S. Network, which can do a variety of things. Hacking into supercomputers, access to stoplight signals, records of all criminals; you name it, it can do it.

F.E.S.T.U.S. can deploy a fire proof hoverboard meant to clock in at speeds of 200 mph.

He can sort of glide without it by lightning his arms on fire as thrusters.

Leo keeps the F.E.S.T.U.S. network in a high tech red watch.

Leo is impervious to heat and has a high tolerance to low temperatures.

He is wary around ice, since the evil supervillain the Snow Queen wields it with malicious intent, and is dominates his only weakness.

Leo is a 20 mechanic who helps out in his dad’s workshop ever since his older brother, Charles, died.

Leo functions as the team’s technician, though is jokingly called by Piper the “Repair Boy” and by Percy as “Grease Monkey”.

Leo hates this. He will, however, answer to Supreme Commander Leo.

Leo has been a superhero since the age of 15.

Nico di Angelo

Nico di Angelo is the Night Wraith.

Nico serves as the team’s detective.

He can summon ghosts. He often uses them to find any leads on villains.

He uses a form of teleportation known as shadow travelling to get from Point A to Point B.

He later on finds that he can summon the undead to his aid and create his own band of skilled zombie soldiers.

His favorite thing to do is summon a huge ass T-Rex skeleton to do his bidding and ride on.

Nico is so skilled with shadows to the point that he can expand his own and use it to escape harsh situations.

Nico can solidify darkness into a lethal sword for him to use.

He can use the shadows as a portal to transport his undead army to his desired location.

This tires Nico greatly, and he often passes out after doing this act.

Nico also manipulates the darkness to create hands and claws to trip on-foot criminals.

Nico is the 18 year old son of Hadrian “Hades” di Angelo, the owner of a jewelry store and a successful funeral arrangement company. He lives with his half-sister, Hazel.

Nico’s weakness is intense, ultraviolet light. This can disorient and sap Nico’s power.

Nico’s been a hero since the age of 13.

#pjo #percy jackson #superhero au #hoo #pjo superhero au #percy #jason #annabeth #piper #nico #hazel #frank #leo #superpowers au

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matt0044 · 1 year ago

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saintedfury · 8 years ago

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tagged by @thirdstreetsam

BASICS.

FULL NAME : Soledad Amaranta Guerrero ALIAS : Boss, Jefaza, Furia, Sol AGE : 38 (as of this moment in Bossville) BIRTHDAY : August 8th ETHNIC GROUP : Latinx NATIONALITY : American LANGUAGE / S : English and Spanish, a bit of Russian SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Pansexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Polygamous RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Currently in an open relationship with Eli Mitchell. Recently lost a long time lover, Troy Bradshaw, and even more recently mutually ended a relationship with Johnny CLASS : Working Class (No matter the size of her ‘bank account’ Furia is who she has always been. A Latina from Mission Beach and worked her ass off every day of her life--legitimately and not. HOME TOWN / AREA : Stilwater born and raised CURRENT HOME : Currently she only has a residence on Zin, her Bossville residence deteriorated and has not been restored. Though Eli has offered for her to come to the New Earth settlement in his dimension. PROFESSION : Racer, boost, gang leader, galactic emperor, formerly POTUS

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Jet Black, wavy and usually worn down. It’s currently regrown out to about her shoulders. EYES : Hazel, rimmed in green, with long lashes and a strong swooping brow NOSE : straight and defined, not quite buttonish, but rather unremarkable FACE : Triangular to Square, she has prominent cheekbones, a squarish jaw with a strong chin. LIPS : Average, but on the fuller side. Always painted in a blood red, which is really smudge-resistent. Though she’s not adverse to occasionally intentionally wearing a less kiss-proof version of the shade. COMPLEXION : Using this reference, her tone ranges from tawny to terra cotta, leaning toward the brown-red. BLEMISHES : She has the occasional dark freckle on her arms and back, but not many. SCARS : There are several across her knuckles. On her torso there are thin scars, both smooth and jagged, from gunshots and knife wounds. She’s got one that nearly traces her collar bone, but is really only noticeable when she has a tan--it goes silvery and almost seems to take on a ghastly glow. Most of them have faded by now. TATTOOS : A large ornate Fleur de lis on her right shoulderblade, a TS on her left hand, a chaos symbol at the top of her spine at her hairline, a fiery lion on her hip. A lovely ornate peacock has joined the mix, along with a wolf on her lower back. There is a small four leaf clover in black and white on her right ankle and a clever spider crawling across the inside of her right wrist. HEIGHT : 5′9″ WEIGHT : 132 lbs BUILD : Trim, defined but not toned. She has a dancer’s body. FEATURES : Long legs, ruby red lips, and a thick curtain of wavy ink black hair ALLERGIES : Bullshit USUAL HAIR STYLE : Long and loose, showing off her natural waves, which get curlier the shorter her hair is. USUAL FACE LOOK : Usually she has a welcoming look. Thankfully, she doesn’t suffer from resting bitch face, but that sultry pout gets her in trouble from time to time. USUAL CLOTHING : Furia is usually dressed quite posh. She even makes sloopy jeans and a t-shirt look dressy. She keeps her appearance up to a certain rather refined scale complete with stylish heels and boots, though of late she’s been veering back into baggy jeans, clunky work boots in purple, baggy hoodies, and bandanas (mainly for when she goes ‘writing’).

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Open water, boats, losing people she cares about, being the cause of the loss of those she cares about (either death or estrangement) ASPIRATION / S : Stealing every moment of happiness she can from the darkness of the world, as well as guiding the empire to autonomy. She’s rather hoping to steal a large chunk of time in the next four years to bask in the time Eli has left. POSITIVE TRAITS : Loyal, protective, playful NEGATIVE TRAITS : Can be incredibly self-destructive MBTI : ENFJ ZODIAC : Leo TEMPERAMENT : Sanguine SOUL TYPE / S : The Warrior, with a side of the Nurturer (x) ANIMALS : Lions, big cats, house cats VICE HABIT / S : Fighting (she’ll go to fight clubs, start brawls), alcohol, sex FAITH : None GHOSTS? : Yes, she’s felt haunted her entire life AFTERLIFE? : No. (Though she wants to hope that there is one, if only for the people she’s lost, and because of Eli’s threat to come back and see her after he’s gone.) REINCARNATION? : No. (She sees Talon as a special case. It’s not something available to normal people.) ALIENS? : Of course! POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : Rather a mix of egalitarian and socialist ideals ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : She is struggling to keep the empire in barter system, there are forces seeking to monetize the economy. SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : She believes in the idea that equality is the trait that will allow the people of her empire the freedom to pursue liberty and happiness. EDUCATION LEVEL : Finished high school. Nearly completed her associate’s in accounting.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Martín Guerrero MOTHER : Angela Guerrero SIBLINGS : Memo, Maximo, Enrique & Emilio, Socorro, Gabriel EXTENDED FAMILY : Several aunts and uncles NAME MEANING / S : Soledad means solitude. After losing her parents and grandparents, she feared that her name might signify her fate. That thought still haunts her from time to time, especially lately with Troy’s death and her estrangement with Johnny. Amaranta means unfading, and Guerrero means warrior. HISTORICAL CONNECTION? : Only in Stilwater, her grandfather (Yayo) Alejandro ran a black market smuggling ring out of the Stilwater docks. He was careful and successful enough to remain unknown to officials in the city.

FAVOURITES.

BOOK : Persuasion by Jane Austen, maybe tied with Fantomina by Eliza Haywood MOVIE : Probably the Fast and the Furious movies--cars, races, chases, explosions, and fights. Hard to beat, or so she tells me. 5 SONGS : Alpha Female by Wild Beasts, Raise Hell by Dorothy, A Little Wicked by Valerie Broussard, Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira, Bad Influence by P!nk DEITY : God, though the two had a falling out years ago, she chooses not to believe in him HOLIDAY : New Year’s & Mardi Gras MONTH : March, because it’s usually quite rainy SEASON : Winter PLACE : Anywhere, as long as she’s there with someone she loves WEATHER : Rainy or sunny SOUND : The powerful rumble of well-built engine SCENT / S : Spices, smoke TASTE / S : Caramel, spices, chiles, smoked meats and veggies, . FEEL / S : Lace, silk, denim, skin. ANIMAL / S : Lions, specifically lionesses NUMBER : 8 COLOUR : Black, white, purple, lavender.

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Cooking and baking, drawing and ‘writing’, dancing, picking locks, driving, boosting cars BAD AT : Pistol accuracy, dealing with her own failures (particularly when she feels she’s failed the people closest to her), placing herself before the people she loves, TURN ONS : Confidence, fun loving nature, adventurousness, loyalty TURN OFFS : Lack of a sense of humor, taking oneself too seriously, lying/dishonesty HOBBIES : Dancing, graffiti, drawing, cooking (though not as much now that she doesn’t have a place in Bossville). TROPES : Lovable Rogue, Tomboy & Girly Girl (Though she fits both roles in her timeline), Sugar & Ice Personality (though few have witnessed her icy side) AESTHETIC TAGS : #Araña, #Seda y Encaje, #Dulce y Picante, #Veloz GPOY QUOTES : “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just exist.” -Oscar Wilde | “One day, you will wake up and there won’t be any more time to do the things you’ve always wanted. Do it now.” -Paulo Coelho | “Never waste a moment, it may be the last with someone you love.”

FC INFO.

MAIN FC / S : Natalie Danish & herself ALT FC / S : I don’t know her name but the woman who is in the avatar square when posts from this blog show in the dashboard. OLDER FC / S : Haven’t really given it much thought. To be honest, I’m not sure she’ll make it to fifty or much past. YOUNGER FC / S : Again, I’ve posted a pic or two here and there, but of nameless folks. VOICE CLAIM / S : Rebecca Sanabria (the Latina VO actress from SR 2) Though Furia’s got a thicker accent than most, she never wanted or tried to lose it. Honestly, when I hear her voice in my head I hear deeper Latina voices like Sofia Vergara, Salma Hayek, and Maria Conchita Alonzo. GENDERBENT FC / S : Jason Momoa (who is also the FC for her brother Memo, they look very much alike).

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ?

A1 : It would be some over dramatic mix of action and romance probably. There would probably be a lot of cars and skimpy lingerie. It’d likely have some corny name like Silk & Steel, or something foolish.

Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ?

A2 : It would be a mix of things you can dance to.

Q3 : why did you start writing this character ?

A3 : I actually created Furia for a smut one shot. She was supposed to be a one trick pony and this happened.

Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ?

A4: She’s just this mix of serious and playful. It’s really her imperfections and faults that I enjoy the most.

Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Oh, she can be quiet moody and self-destructive.

Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ?

A6 : A love of music and caramel. And we’re both good cooks.

Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ?

A7 : She thinks I really need to get out more

Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?

A8 : All of them! Really! Whether it’s something playful or character building. The interactions with everyone are always fun, and even the most innocent, calm, superficial interactions and draw out some of her history and pieces of her personality. Honestly, her interactions with other muses and characters has allowed me to develop Furia much more fully over the last several years.

Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ?

A9 : Music, movies, prompts, RP, talking to other muns, reading, driving. And for some reason when I fall asleep, she tends to pop into my head some nights. It kills me because I always end up sitting up 5 or 6 times to jot down some idea that came to me as I was falling asleep.

Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ?

A10 : A few hours give or take.

Tagging @nightmareon3rdst, @thirdstreetshackles, @demonsaint, and anyone else who would like to participate as well. I just think most of the folks who I’d usually tag were either already tagged, tagged me, or completed it beforehand.

#Soledad Amaranta Guerrero #Headcanon #Meta #Character Sheet

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networkingdefinition · 5 years ago

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Full Moon Quotes

Official Website: Full Moon Quotes

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• A full moon is a flashlight so everyone can see your drama! – Eric Jerome Dickey • A full moon is poison to some; they shut it out at every crevice, and do not suffer a ray to cross them; it has a chemical or magical effect; it sickens them. But I am never more free and royal than when the subtile celerity of its magic combinations, whatever they are, is at work. – Harriet Elizabeth Prescott Spofford • A kiss on the beach when there is a full moon is the closest thing to heaven. – H. Jackson Brown, Jr. • According to the oral tradition of Witches, we were once the priests and priestesses of a peasant Pagan religion. Members of this secret sect met at night beneath the full moon, for these were the “misfits” and “outcasts” who did not fit into mainstream society. Little has changed over the centuries and the Witchcraft community still embraces individuals frequently rejected in mainstream society. These include gays, lesbians, transgendered individuals, and other people with the courage to live their lives authentically in accord with who they are inside their hearts, minds, and spirits. – Raven Grimassi • Admit something.

Everyone you see, you say to them “Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud: Otherwise, Someone would call the cops.

Still, though, think about this, This great pull in us to connect.

Why not become the one Who lives with a full moon in each eye That is always saying,

With that sweet moon Language

What every other eye in this world Is dying to Hear? – Hafez • All good writing is built one good line at a time. You build a novel the same way you do a pyramid. One word, one stone at a time, underneath a full moon while the fingers bleed. – Kate Braverman • All of the full moons for the entire year are special in that they have particular names. – Neil deGrasse Tyson • As hard as I try to live with some degree of faith in my life, I just can’t believe that the full moon can turn dude into a wolf. – Dana Gould • As the body rolled to the ground Tarzan of the Apes placed his foot upon the neck of his lifelong enemy and, raising his eyes to the full moon, threw back his fierce young head and voiced the wild and terrible cry of his people. – Edgar Rice Burroughs

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Moon', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_moon').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_moon img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Beauty is Nature in perfection; circularity is its chief attribute. Behold the full moon, the enchanting golf ball, the domes of splendid temples, the huckleberry pie, the wedding ring, the circus ring, the ring for the waiter, and the “round” of drinks. – O. Henry • Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps 20. And yet it all seems limitless. – Paul Bowles • Briefly, the nymphaeum glowed with a softer light, like a full moon. Piper smelled exotic spices and blooming roses. She heard distant music and happy voices talking and laughing. She guessed she was hearing hundreds of years of parties and celebrations that had been held at this shrine in ancient times, as if the memories had been freed along with the spirits. ‘What is that?’ Jason asked nervously. Piper slipped her hand into his. ‘The ghosts are dancing. – Rick Riordan • by night only crazy things like the full moon and the whippoorwill and us, are busy. – Charles Olson

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Clear mind is like the full moon in the sky. Sometimes clouds come and cover it, but the moon is always behind them. Clouds go away, then the moon shines brightly. So don’t worry about clear mind: it is always there. When thinking comes, behind it is clear mind. When thinking goes, there is only clear mind. Thinking comes and goes, comes and goes, You must not be attached to the coming or the going. – Seungsahn • Cuba seems to have the same effect on US administrations as the full moon has on werewolves. – Wayne Smith • Dancing up the full moon Round some fair new altar Trample the soft blossoms of fine grass. – Sappho • Do you understand now why books are hated and feared? Because they reveal the pores on the face of life. The comfortable people want only the faces of the full moon, wax, faces without pores, hairless, expressionless. – Ray Bradbury • Does the full moon affect people’s behavior, you ask? Yup. It makes people think the full moon affects people’s behavior. – Neil deGrasse Tyson • Early on May 23, 1997, from 28,500 feet on Everest, I witnessed the incredible shadow of the mountain, the penumbra, forming to the west as the sun rose behind me. The full moon from the night before was still visible. The bluish cast of the atmosphere can also be seen. – Ed Viesturs • Easter occurs on different dates each year because, like the Jewish Passover, it is based upon the vernal equinox, that dramatic moment when the hours of the day-light and the hours of darkness at last draw parallel and then the light finally and triumphantly wins out. Thus Easter is always fixed as the first Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox. It’s a cosmic, solar, and lunar event as deeply rooted in religious traditions originating from sun-god worship as one could conceivably imagine. – Tom Harpur • Escape from the black cloud that surrounds you. Then you will see your own light as radiant as the full moon. – Rumi • Everything that is bad, the falling sickness – God save the mark – or the like, should be at its worst at the full moon. I suppose because it is the leader of the stars. – Lady Gregory • For most people, we often marvel at the beauty of a sunrise or the magnificence of a full moon, but it is impossible to fathom the magnitude of the universe that surrounds us. – Richard Baker • From the distance of the moon, Earth was four times the size of a full moon seen from Earth. It was a brilliant jewel in the black velvet sky. • Full moons, skunk weed all up in the room; You got the munchies, baby? Ice cold milk and Lorna Doones. – Ghostface Killah • I have seen the glories of art and architecture, and mountain and river; I have seen the sunset on the Jungfrau, and the full moon rise over Mont Blanc; but the fairest vision on which these eyes ever looked was the flag of my country in a foreign land. Beautiful as a flower to those who hate it, terrible as a meteor to those who hate it, it is the symbol of the power and glory, and the honor, of fifty million Americans. – George Frisbie Hoar • I suppose there were moonless nights and dark ones with but a silver shaving and pale stars in the sky, but I remember them all as flooded with the rich indolence of a full moon. – Willa Cather • I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!” – Oriah Dreamer • I wish I could tell you about the South Pacific. The way it actually was. The endless ocean. The infinite specks of coral we called islands. Coconut palms nodding gracefully toward the ocean. Reefs upon which waves broke into spray, and inner lagoons, lovely beyond description. I wish I could tell you about the sweating jungle, the full moon rising behind the volcanoes, and the waiting. The waiting. The timeless, repetitive waiting. – James A. Michener • If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me? – Isak Dinesen • I’m a werewolf trapped in a human body.” “Well, yeah, that’s kind of the definition.” “No, really. I’m trapped.” “Oh? When was the last time you shape-shifted?” “That’s just it – I’ve never shape-shifted.” “So you’re not really a werewolf.” “Not yet. But I was meant to be one, I just know it. How do I get a werewolf to attack me?” Stand in the middle of a forest under a full moon with a raw steak tied to your face, holding a sign that says, ‘Eat me; I’m stupid’? – Carrie Vaughn • Imagine a glorious full moon coming over the tops of the spruce, big and yellow, shedding a mysterious light on everything… the moonlight had colour, you could see to paint and be able to appreciate the colour of things. – Arthur Lismer • In the broad light of day mathematicians check their equations and their proofs, leaving no stone unturned in their search for rigour. But, at night, under the full moon, they dream, they float among the stars and wonder at the miracle of the heavens. They are inspired. Without dreams there is no art, no mathematics, no life. – Michael Atiyah • It is a totally different creativity I am talking about. A Taj Mahal… just watching it on a full moon night, and great meditation is bound to arise in you. Or the temples of Khajuraho, Konarak, Puri – just meditating on them and you will be surprised that all your sexuality is transformed into love. They are miracles of creativity. They were not created by pathological people, they were created by those who had attained. – Rajneesh • It was a full moon and, shining on all the snow, it made everything almost as bright as day — only the shadows were rather confusing. – C. S. Lewis • It’s a full moon here tonight, which makes me think of you. Because, I know that no matter what I am doing or where I am, this moon will always be the same size as yours, half a world away. – Nicholas Sparks • Lady Maccon.” “By George, Boots! How the deuce can you possibly tell that there is Lady Maccon?” queried the other top-hated gentleman. “Who else would be standing in the middle of a street on full-moon night with a raging ruddy fire behind her, waving a parasol about?” “Good point, good point. – Gail Carriger • Look around at the azaleas making fuchsia star bursts in spring; look at a full moon hanging silver in a black sky on a cold night. And realize that life is glorious, and that you have no business taking it for granted. – Anna Quindlen • Mary awoke from her nightmare with a pounding heart, convinced that she had only imagined Elizabeth’s cruel plot. A full moon was shining into her chamber, illuminating everything around her in silvery light. That was when she noticed for the first time that there were bars on her window. – Margaret George • May this marriage be blessed.May this marriage be as sweet as milk and honey.May this marriage be as intoxicating as old wine.May this marriage be fruitful like a date tree.May this marriage be full of laughter and everyday a paradise.May this marriage be a seal of compassion for here and hereafter.May this marriage be as welcome as the full moon in the night sky.Listen lovers, now you go on, as I become silent and kiss this blessed night.- Rumi • Mooooon!” said the Ogre. “Tranquility …” Then he pointed at the full moon. “Neil Armstrong walked in a sea of Tranquility.” Then he added, “It’s made of cheese. But you have to take off the plastic before you put it on a burger.” Mickey sighed. “What’s his story?” the wraith asked. “He’s chocolate,” Mikey said. – Neal Shusterman • Never say [to younger people] “that was before your time,” because the last full moon was before their time! – Bill Cosby • Night of Sleepless Love The night above. We two. Full moon. I started to weep, you laughed. Your scorn was a god, my laments moments and doves in a chain. The night below. We two. Crystal of pain. You wept over great distances. My ache was a clutch of agonies over your sickly heart of sand. Dawn married us on the bed, our mouths to the frozen spout of unstaunched blood. The sun came through the shuttered balcony and the coral of life opened its branches over my shrouded heart. – Federico Garcia Lorca • Nothing beats a haunted moonlit night on All Hallows Eve…. And on this fatal night, at this witching time, the starless sky laments black and unmoving. The somber hues of an ominous, dark forest are suddenly illuminated under the emerging face of the full moon. – Elizabeth Kim • Now that I think about it, maybe he is a werewolf. I can picture him lunging over the moors in hot pursuit of his prey, and I’m certain that he wouldn’t think twice about eating an innocent bystander. I’ll watch him closely at the next full moon. He’s asked me to go dancing tomorrow–perhaps I should wear a high collar. Oh, that’s vampires, isn’t it? I think I am a little giddy. (After meeting Mr. Markham V. Reynolds, Jr.) – Mary Ann Shaffer • On every full moon, rituals … take place on hilltops, beaches, in open fields and in ordinary houses. Writers, teachers, nurses, computer programmers, artists, lawyers, poets, plumbers, and auto mechanics — women and men from many backgrounds come together to celebrate the mysteries of the Triple Goddess of the Dance of Life. The religion they practice is called Witchcraft. – Starhawk • On the horizon, he saw the full moon. God dropped it there, he was sure, as a reminder of our small place in the world. A reminder that what is beautiful is fleeting. – Ben Sherwood • Perhaps all women are part faerie, for what woman can deny her faerie blood when the portals to her own land are open; when the full moon sings its insistent song; when sorrow and passion and rage pulse through her body at moon times. This is why women are the chosen ones of Faerie, pat of the vibrant, fluid, emotional soul of the world. – Brian Froud • Should at that moment the full moon Step forth upon the hill, And memories hard to bear at noon, By moonlight harder still, Form in the shadows of the trees, – Things that you could not spare And live, or so you thought, yet these All gone, and you still there, A man no longer what he was, Not yet the thing he planned. – Edna St. Vincent Millay • Smile O voluptuous coolbreathed earth! Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees! Earth of departed sunset! Earth of the mountains misty-topt! Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue! Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river! Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbowed earth! Rich apple-blossomed earth! Smile, for your lover comes! – Walt Whitman • So you used to know everything?” She wrinkled her nose. “Everybody did. I told you. It’s nothing special, knowing how things work. And you really do have to give it all up if you want to play.” “To play what?” “This,” she said. She waved at the house and the sky and the impossible full moon and the skeins and the shawls and clusters of bright stars. – Neil Gaiman • Some people will tell you werewolves can only shapechange under a full moon, but people also say there’s no such things as ghosts. – Patricia Briggs • Sometimes two people stay together for the sake of the kids – two kids who sat under a full moon and pledged to be forever true. – Robert Breault • Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night. – Hal Borland • Sybil tells me your little festival is an annual occurrence,” she said, the cadence of her voice swooning like a lullaby. “Yes,” Kai said, lifting a shrimp wonton between his chopsticks. “It falls on the ninth full moon if each year.” “Ah, how lovely for you to base your holidays on the cycles of my planet.” Kai wanted to scoff at the word planet but sucked it back down his throat. – Marissa Meyer • Tell me what you feel in your room when the full moon is shining in upon you and your lamp is dying out, and I will tell you how old you are, and I shall know if you are happy. – Henri Frederic Amiel • The clue to one’s next step toward the door of initiation may be revealed at the Full Moon during the sign of Taurus. – Alice Bailey • The full moon – the mandala of the sky. – Tom Robbins • The full moon rises. The fog clings to the lowest branches of the spruce trees. The man steps out of the darkest corner of the forest and finds himself transformed into… A monkey? I think not. – Garth Stein • The shapes of letters do not derive their beauty from any sensual or sentimental reminiscences. No one can say that the O’s roundness appeals to us only because it is like that of an apple or of a girl’s breast or of the full moon. Letters are things, not pictures of things. – Eric Gill • The sky lay over the city like a map showing the strata of things and the big full moon toppled over in a furrow like the abandoned wheel of a gun carriage on a sunset field of battle and the shadows walked like cats and I looked into the white and ghostly interior of things and thought of you and I looked on their structural outsides and thought of you and was lonesome. – Zelda Fitzgerald • The white saucer like some full moon descends / At last from the clouds of the table above. – Harold Monro • The Witch can gaze clearly into the dark hidden corners of the human psyche just as the full moon can light up the darkness of night. – Raven Grimassi • There are a thousand flowers blossoming in spring, The magical light of the full moon in autumn; There is a breeze in summer, And snow in winter; And if vanities don’t hang in my mind, I shall rejoice at any time and place. – Wumen Huikai • These fourteen phases from full moon to new also have their result, and for the Egyptian consciousness this result was achieved through Isis. These fourteen phases are ruled by Isis. – Rudolf Steiner • Today, I feel stronger, learning to live within the natural cycles of a day and to not expect too much of myself. As women, we hold the moon in our bellies. It is too much to ask to operate on full-moon energy three hundred and sixty-five days a year. I am in a crescent phase. – Terry Tempest Williams • Tom Walls and his cohort are wolves in sheep’s clothing who will besmirch the memory of some genuine historic figures by the next full moon. – Dionne Warwick • Well. We’ll just have to hope that this wasn’t a loup-garou, I guess.” “If it was a louper, you’d know,” Bob said wisely. “In the middle of this town, you’d have a dozen people dead every time the full moon came around. What’s going on?” “A dozen people are dying every time the full moon comes around. – Jim Butcher • What if I arrange to be around Lord Akeldama during the full moon?” The earl looked daggers. “I am certain he would be extremely helpful in a fight. He could ruthlessly flatter all your attackers into abject submission. – Gail Carriger • What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit- man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations! – Allen Ginsberg • What was supposed to be so special about a full moon? It was only a big circle of light. And the dark of the moon was only darkness. But halfway between the two, when the moon was between the worlds of light and dark, when even the moon lived on the edge…maybe then a witch could believe in the moon. – Terry Pratchett • When my band MU landed on Maui in 1973 we were greeted by a wonderful group of peace loving brothers & sisters who we immediately formed a bond with. We had two instant roadies, Spider & Richard, who helped with every move of our musical equipment. We settled into our house on the edge of the rainforest that eventually became a portable studio. We started rehearsing and booked the Lahaina Civic Auditorium for a full moon concert starring MU and a local band The Space Patrol. – Merrell Fankhauser • When the sky is clear, when the sea is calm and the full moon is rising, whatever you are doing, leave it; go to the seaside; sit and watch it! You will then reach the land where there is no thinking; the land of pure wisdom! – Mehmet Murat Ildan • When we will all see our role in society as servants, we will all light up the sky together like countless stars on a dark night. Don’t think of society as the sky on a full moon night. The moon’s harsh light blinds us to the true and humble work of the stars. But on a moonless night, the true servants shine forth, as though they are connected invisibly in this vast and infinite cosmos. – Vinoba Bhave • When When it’s over, it’s over, and we don’t know any of us, what happens then. So I try not to miss anything. I think, in my whole life, I have never missed The full moon or the slipper of its coming back. Or, a kiss. Well, yes, especially a kiss. – Mary Oliver • When you fall in love with a work of art, you’d die to meet the artist. I am a student of the galleries of Pacific sunsets, full moon rises on the ocean, the clouds from an airplane, autumn forests in Raleigh, first fallen snows. And I’m dying to meet the artist. – Yasmin Mogahed • With passions stilled and one’s nature firm, all destinies are in harmony; When the full moon of contemplation is reached you will be pure. – Wu Cheng’en • You have some severe mental problem I need to be aware of, don’t you? (Shahara) Just because I eat babies for breakfast and pick my teeth with their bones doesn’t mean I’m nuts. (Syn) Any other weird habits I should be aware of? (Shahara) Just my need to dance naked in the streets under the light of a full moon. (Syn) – Sherrilyn Kenyon • You have to be able to appreciate these things. How many people can say it was a full moon last night and appreciate it? – Sandy Miller • You were overwhelmed by my desire? What planet are you from? (Geary to Arik) Moronia. Every full moon they teleport the Morons to earth and let them loose. Consider this your first encounter. (Solin) – Sherrilyn Kenyon

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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equitiesstocks · 5 years ago

Text

Full Moon Quotes

Official Website: Full Moon Quotes

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push();

Everyone you see, you say to them “Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud: Otherwise, Someone would call the cops.

Still, though, think about this, This great pull in us to connect.

Why not become the one Who lives with a full moon in each eye That is always saying,

With that sweet moon Language

0 notes

nw7us · 5 years ago

Text

Lightning Strike Brings New Radio - Icom IC-7610

It was late in the evening as I sat on the bed. All lights were off, and the room was nearly dark with only a small digital clock glowing.

My wife was already retired under covers when suddenly the house shook as if a mortar shell went off. At the very same moment, I was blinded by a flash of intense white light. And, the sound was deafening.

Oh, no! A lightning strike! At our house! My heart sank and then raced. Our house electronics… MY HAM STATION! Is it all toast? Is anything on fire?

I raced from the bedroom, glancing into other rooms as I made my way to the living room. No smoke. I clicked on the TV. It came on, fine. Then, Internet-based streaming services came to life. Good. Our Internet connection is live. That’s positive.

I made my way down into the lower level of the house, into my radio shack. Because there was a storm approaching, I had already disconnected the antenna coax to my HF (shortwave) antenna system. I had played it safe. But, I was concerned about any damage through the power line--damage to my computer.

I could see right away that my computer was still up and running. Both monitors had screen saver images. Good. Things looked like they were okay.

I went back to bed, thinking that everything was fine. I did not want to test my radio, because, first, why? It was disconnected from the antenna. Second, why connected it back up to the antenna while there’s still a storm raging?

The next morning, after the storm had passed, I did go back to the radio room. I hooked up the antenna. Turning on the radio, I also fired up the Ham Radio Deluxe program so I could check things out.

The radio did not respond. The radio did not show up as available for the software. The USB-Communications bridge also did not show up in the devices. Bad sign.

Long story short: I discovered that the uninterruptible power supply and its battery were shot. And, the USB interface and Icom radio control interface both blown. And, the transceiver? Yes, that too was blown. Five electronic components of my radio setup for HF no longer functioned: My station was dead.

I filed an insurance claim, having a rider on my homeowner's insurance policy. They did their investigating and estimating and what not. After I paid a hefty deductible, and scraped together a bit more than they offered to cover the loss, I obtained a new transceiver.

Because the new rig had built-in USB ports with sound card technology, I did not need to replace the USB interface hardware. And, I have re-worked how I power the radio so that I can disconnect easily during a storm.

Enter the story, a repacked Icom IC-7610!

My radio room is starting to look like a station, again. I've successfully paired my new Icom IC-7610 with Win4IcomSuite and HRD/DM780. I'm adding more, from various different areas of interest, like WSJT software, and so on.

In the short while that I’ve had to operate this rig, I’ve become highly impressed and quite pleased! What a radio!

One of the most useful (and, to me, amazing) features of this Icom IC-7610, is the IP+ function, which, when turned on, improves the Intermodulation Distortion (IMD) quality by optimizing the direct sampling system performance. This function optimizes the Analog/Digital Converter (ADC) against distortion when you receive a strong input signal. It also improves the Third-order Intercept Point (IP3) while minimizing the reduction of the receiver sensitivity.

In short: I was listening to an s-0 (i.e., no strength-meter movement) weak signal of a DX station, when right adjacent to the frequency came an s-7 signal, wiping out my ability to copy that weak signal. I turned on the IP+ and the distortion of the adjacent signal disappeared, and once again, I heard the weak signal IN THE CLEAR! WOW!

The following video is a quick capture of my running the Olivia Digital Mode on HF, on the 30-Meter band.

The transmissions are of a two-way Olivia digital-mode radio conversation between station K8CJM and station NW7US on 12 November 2019 (UTC date). K8CJM is located in Dayton, Ohio, and I am located in Lincoln, Nebraska. I’m running the radio at full power. The radio is rated as being able to handle a 100% duty cycle at full power. The radio ran cool, with no significant heating.

Click to see the video, in which I make the first digital QSO with this rig:

youtube

Compression and ALC!?

Some have noted that it appears that I’ve left on the compression of the transmitted audio. However, the truth is that compression was not being used (as is proof by carefully taking note of the zero meter movement of the Compression activity). I had the radio set for 20-Meter USB operation on the Sub VFO. Compression was set for standard USB operation. Note also that the radio was transmitting USB-D1, which means the first data/soundcard input to the radio.

Also, some people complain about my use of ALC, because, in their view, ALC (automatic level control) is a no-no for data modes.

The notion that one must NEVER use ALC when transmitting digital modes is not accurate.

Multi-frequency shift keyed (MFSK) modes with low symbol rate–such as the Olivia digital modes–use a single carrier of constant amplitude, which is stepped (between 4, 8, 16 or 32 tone frequencies respectively) in a constant phase manner. As a result, no unwanted sidebands are generated, and no special amplifier (including a transmitter’s final stage) linearity requirements are necessary.

Whether the use of ALC matters or not depends on the transmitted digital mode.

For example, FSK (Frequency-Shift Keying; i.e., RTTY) is a constant-amplitude mode (frequency shift only). In such a case, the use of ALC will NOT distort the signal waveform.

PSK31 does contain amplitude shifts, as an example, therefore you don’t want any ALC action that could result in distortion of the amplitude changes in the waveform.

On the other hand, the WSJT manual says that its output is a constant-amplitude signal, meaning that good linearity is not necessary. In that case, the use of ALC will NOT distort the transmitted signal-amplitude waveform. You can use ALC or not, as you choose when you run WSJT modes, or Olivia (MFSK).

Clarification

Nowhere in this am I advocating running your audio really high, thinking that the ALC will take care of it. I am not saying that. I am saying that some ALC is not going to be an issue. You MUST not overdrive any part of the audio chain going into the transmitter!

Transmit audio out of the sound card remains at a constant amplitude, so there will be no significant change in power output if you adjust your input into the radio so that the ALC just stops moving the meter, or, you can have some ALC meter movement. You can adjust your audio to the transmitter either way.

If the transmitter filters have a significant degree of ripple in the passband then you may find that RF power output changes with the selected frequency in the waterfall when there is no ALC action. Allowing some ALC action can permit the ALC to act as an automatic gain adjustment to keep the output power level as you change frequencies.

Linear and Nonlinear

Regarding linear and nonlinear operation (amplifiers, final stages): While a Class-C amplifier circuit has far higher efficiency than a linear circuit, a Class-C amplifier is not linear and is only suitable for the amplification of constant-envelope signals. Such signals include FM, FSK, MFSK, and CW (Morse code).

If Joe Taylor’s various modes (in WSJT software) are constant-envelope signals, than class-C works, right? At least, in theory.

Some Additional Cool History

The digital mode, Thor, came out of DominoEX when FEC was added. Here is an interesting history of FSQ that seems to confirm that FSQ is like MFSK, so no problem with a bit of ALC.

The following is from https://www.qsl.net/zl1bpu/MFSK/FSQweb.htm:

History – Let’s review the general history of Amateur MFSK modes. The first Amateur MFSK mode developed anywhere was MFSK16, specified by Murray Greenman ZL1BPU, then first developed and coded by Nino Porcino IZ8BLY in 1999. Before MFSK16 arrived, long-distance (DX) QSOs using digital modes were very unreliable: reliant, as they were, on RTTY and later PSK31. MFSK16 changed all that, using 16 tones and strong error correction. Great for long path DX, but nobody could ever say it was easy to use, never mind slick (quick and agile)!

Over the next few years, many MFSK modes appeared, in fact too many! Most of these were aimed at improving performance on bands with QRM. Most used very strong error correction, some types a poor match for MFSK, and these were very clumsy in QSO, because of long delays.

The next major development, aimed at easy QSOs with a slick turnaround, was DominoEX, designed by Murray Greenman ZL1BPU and coded by Con Wassilieff ZL2AFP, which was released in 2009. Rather than using error correction as a brute-force approach, DominoEX was based on sound research and achieved its performance through carefully crafted modulation techniques that required no error correction. The result was a simpler, easier to tune, easily identified mode with a fast turn-around.

DominoEX is widely used and available in many software packages. A later development by Patrick F6CTE and then Dave W1HKJ added FEC to this mode (THOR) but did not add greatly to performance, and at the same time eroded the fast turn-around. The final DominoEX- related development was EXChat, a version of DominoEX designed specifically for text-message style chatting. While completely compatible with DominoEx, it operates in ‘Sentence Mode’, sending each short over when the operator presses ENTER. EXChat was developed by Con ZL2AFP and released in 2014.

Back in 2013, Con ZL2AFP developed an MFSK mode for LF and MF which used an unusual decoding method pioneered by Alberto I2PHD: a ‘syncless’ decoder, which used a voting system to decide when one tone finished and another began. The first use of this idea was in JASON (2002), which proved to be very sensitive, but very slow, partly because it was based on the ASCII alphabet. The new mode, WSQ2 (Weak Signal QSO, 2 baud) combined the syncless decoder with more tones, 33 in total, and an alphabet specially developed by Murray ZL1BPU, which could send each lower case letter (and common punctuation) in just one symbol, resulting in a very sensitive (-30 dB SNR) mode with a 5 WPM typing speed.

In the subsequent discussion in late 2014, between the developers ZL2AFP and ZL1BPU, it was realized that if the computer had enough processing power to handle it, WSQ2 could be ‘sped up’ to become a useful HF chat mode. This required a large amount of development and retuning of the software to achieve adequate speed was involved, along with much ionospheric simulator and on-air testing used to select the most appropriate parameters.

Tests proved that the idea not only worked well, but it also had marked advantages over existing HF MFSK modes, even DominoEX. As expected, the new mode was found to have superior tolerance of signal timing variation, typically caused by multi-path reception, and would also receive with no change of settings over a wide range of signaling speeds.

So this is how FSQ came about. It uses the highly efficient WSQ character alphabet, IFK+ coding, the same number of tones as WSQ (33), but runs a whole lot faster, up to 60 WPM, and uses different tone spacing. The symbol rate (signaling speed) is modest (six tones per second or less), but each individual tone transmitted carries a surprising amount of information, resulting in a high text transmission speed. And it operates in ‘Chat’ (sentence) mode, which allows the user to type as fast as possible since they type only while receiving.

The ability to send messages and commands selectively has opened a huge array of communications possibilities.

What Makes FSQ Different

Incremental Keying – FSQ uses Offset Incremental Frequency Keying (IFK+), a type of differential Multi-Frequency Shift Keying (MFSK) with properties that make it moderately drift-proof and easy to tune. IFK+ also has excellent tolerance of multi-path reception.

IFK was developed by Steve Olney VK2XV. IFK+ (with code rotation) was proposed by Murray Greenman ZL1BPU and first used in DominoEX. IFK+ prevents repeated same tones without complex coding and provides improved rejection of propagation-related inter-symbol interference. In the context of sync-less decoding, the IFK+ code rotation also prevents repeated identical tones, which could not have been detected by this method.

Efficient Alphabet – In FSQ, a relatively high typing speed at a modest baud rate comes about because the alphabet coding is very efficient. All lower case letters and the most common punctuation can be sent in just one symbol and all other characters (the total alphabet contains 104 characters) in just two symbols. (The alphabet is listed below). This is a simple example of a Varicode, where it takes less time to send the more common characters. The character rate is close to six per second (60 WPM), the same as RTTY, but at only 1/8th of the baud rate. (RTTY has only one bit of information per symbol, 7.5 symbols per character, and wastes a third of its information on synchronization, and despite this, works poorly on HF).

No Sync – Another important factor in the design of FSQ is that no synchronizing process is required to locate and decode the received characters. Lack of sync means that reception is much less influenced by propagation timing changes that affect almost all other modes since timing is quite unimportant to FSQ; it almost completely eliminates impulse noise disruption, and it also contributes to very fast acquisition of the signal (decoding reliably within one symbol of the start of reception). Fast acquisition removes the need for the addition of extra idle characters at the start of transmission, and this leads to a very slick system. Add high resistance to QRM and QRN, thanks to the low baud rate, and you have a system so robust that it does not need error correction.

Well, that's pretty cool! Come join us on Olivia digital mode. I'm going to really enjoy my time with this great Icom radio!

#digital #history #radio #digital mode #olivia #mfsk #FSQ #ALC #Adjust #RF #hamr #hamradio #ham radio #ham #amateurradio #amatradio #amateur ham radio #DIY #EmComm #Science

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a-wayne-at-heart · 8 years ago

Text

HYPNOTISED: A Jason Todd/Red Hood x OC Fan Fic

Summary: Snippets of a blossoming romance between Jason Tood/Red Hood and an original character (named Ima), with other DC characters in supporting roles. Jason falls for a waitress at a diner he frequents with his best friend, Roy Harper. When she is caught in the crossfire between him and Black Mask, he is determined to protect her at all costs. What he does not expect is her falling for him, too. And how much she becomes a part of his - and the Batfamily’s - life.

** Not strictly canon. Romance + fluff + minor angst. A lot of Batfamily feels. Title from the Coldplay song. Currently 8 chapters long, each one to be posted separately due to length. Editing may occur, depending on inspiration. :) **

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Four

The sunlight filling the room forced her to open her eyes. How long was she out? In spite of the softness of the bed, her entire body was sore. Spotless white walls. Two traditional Japanese swords overhead. A wall-to-wall bookshelf made of fine wood. A tire with a bat insignia? And beside it, a photo of Batman and Robin… Where was she? She pushed off the fluffy duvet that covered her. She was still wearing her uniform, except it was soiled and parts of it were singed. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of blood, sweat, and soot.

All her senses were telling her that last night was not a dream. As she stepped onto the carpeted floor, she noticed the Post-it stuck on the bedside lamp. “Breakfast awaits”, followed by a smiley face. She rubbed her arms, feeling a small strip of gauze taped to the underside of her left arm. She peeled it off, revealing a puncture wound that looked suspiciously like one for intravenous fluid infusion. Her reflection on a full length mirror showed her the bandages on her face and other parts of her body. She yawned, straightened out what was left of her clothes, then gingerly walked out of the bedroom. Her stomach grumbled at the scent of freshly made waffles. Her eyes widened at who may have been causing them.

“Jason?”

“Hey,” Jason said with a bright smile, setting a plated pile of scrumptious-looking waffles on the kitchen island. “I bet you’re hungry. You’ve been out for two days.” He was wearing an apron with “Kiss the Hood” haphazardly sprayed in red onto it (Roy’s idea of a joke). When she did not reply, he continued, “I made waffles. They’re probably not going to be as good as what you guys serve at the diner, I didn’t really have time to go grocery shopping this week, what with the -”

His ramble was drowned out by the sight of Ima taking in her surroundings. She was a bug-eyed, and he found it adorable. The safe house looked like a bachelor’s pad, with its dark wood paneling and floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking a lake (underneath which a customized amphibious vehicle designed by no other than Lucius Fox himself was parked). Leather-covered furniture, modern industrial fixtures. All of it concealed the state-of-the-art reinforcements and built-in weaponry (not to mention the safe room within the safe house) to give a homey feel. A bomb could go off at their front door and it would not even make a dent. It was a far cry from the one he and Roy used to operate from when they first started getting clients. But that was in the past; they were working for Batman, Incorporated now. He and Roy were often caught in the crossfire or swept into shady political dealings as guns-for-hire. By employing them, Bruce (and, by extension, Oliver Queen) could keep constant tabs on them. And even if the older man would not admit it out loud, Jason knew he was being protective.

Ima approached him slowly, and the sway of her hips almost made him drop the batter-covered spatula. He had grown used to seeing her after her shift at the diner, which was just when the sun was about to set. But the morning sun was making her ebony skin glow in a way he was not sure he could ever get used to. Gulp.

“Where am I?” She said, suddenly light-headed, grabbing a nearby stool to steady herself. Jason quickly caught her by the small of her back and guided her onto the seat.

“In our safe house,” he replied. The safest. Well, second only to Wayne Manor.

“Our?”

“My, um, best friend lives here, too. He’ll be back any minute now.” She had met him before. Sort of.

“I had the strangest dream… I was in a burning building and… the Red Hood rescued me.”

He nervously wiped his hands on his apron and took a seat across from her. Yup, this conversation was happening.

“Then he took off his mask,” she continued, looking confused, “and it was you.”

There was no point denying it. “It wasn’t a dream, Ima.”

He handed her a glass of water. After taking a sip, she stared at him with a blank expression that made him even more uneasy. What did she think of him now?

She nodded, but more to herself. Yes, Ima. He was that masked vigilante scaring the shit out of criminals in Gotham City. The “dangerous” and “lethal” one that the news warned the citizens about.

“You… saved me.” He nodded silently back.

“The explosion in the warehouse… those scary thugs with guns… m-my… my brother?” She choked out the last part, tears building up in her confused eyes. His heart broke for her. “All of it… happened?”

“Yes… What do you remember exactly?”

“I… I went over to the docks to bring him leftovers from the diner. He called me earlier that day to let me know that he was working late. It wasn’t the first time, but I wanted to surprise him. As - as I was walking toward the warehouse, I heard some men talking about - about -” Horror was clearly reflected in her eyes as the memory flooded back in. “- t-t-taking Kai down… they were going to shoot him, something about him knowing too much… I couldn’t move, I was so scared! Then I felt an arm grab me from behind and drag me into the warehouse…”

“What did you see?” What were her nightmares going to made of?

“A briefcase, two men were shaking hands over it… One of them had a black face. He looked so… evil. He sneered at me when his men dragged me in… asked that they bring me closer, pulled up my skirt…” Black Mask was going to pay. Dearly. “Kai kept begging them to let me go… Wouldn’t even take his share in the loot, he said…” She was staring off into the distance, as if watching the macabre scene playing on an invisible screen. “… then I heard it. My brother’s gasps for air…” A gunshot between the eyebrows. He had tripped over the lifeless body on the ground amid the chaos, recognized him immediately. Ima briefly introduced them months ago. If only he had known then…

Now her eyes were lifeless.

“I-I wanted to run to him, see if he was still b-breathing, but some of the men started yelling that there was an intruder, another one…” That idiotic moment when he and Roy got caught. “Th-there was p-panic, so I bit the arm that was holding me and ran for it…”

She collapsed on the floor, covering her face. “I l-left him there…” He knelt down beside her, enveloping her shivering shoulders. Her sobs were muffled in the firmness of his chest, tears drenching his shirt. “I never suspected a t-thing. I should’ve worked harder so that he didn’t have to take that job at the docks… I should’ve listened more… I should’ve, sh-should’ve -” He caught her slender hand as it pounded on his chest and gently held it. “Hey, hey. None of this was your fault. Kai ran with a bad crowd, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him.” But those who did this to him were going to get what they deserved. He would make sure of it.

As she clutched at him tighter, he could feel her chest heaving violently against his. He knew what it was like to lose the only family you knew, but he also knew that second chances were a thing. The seven missed calls from Oracle was proof enough that family was much more than just sharing DNA. She would get her second chance.

A text message sent to Roy. Not patrolling tonight. The city could wait.

#batfam #batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #dick grayson #red hood #jason tood #red robin #tim drake #robin #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #arsenal #roy harper

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