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#*h 331
viparts-nl · 1 month
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hyewka · 9 months
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Because I’m currently pissed off ive decided to manifest it into positive energy 🙂!!! I present to you a scenario of very loud and annoying neighbour Yeonjun, like just criminally loud neighbour throughout every. single. night. Absolutely no rest ever since he moved in.
warnings: sub!yeonjun, grinding, slapping lol, dacryphilia, noona kink sorta
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On good days, it’d be what you think is him producing music because at least your walls aren’t vibrating. Worst days? It would hands down be the ragers he throws practically every week as if he was still in college. Sex being a close second—to give credit, he has toned it down the past couple of weeks.
“We take your complaints very seriously, but please cut him some slack Miss. He’s still in college you know how…they get,” So…he is still in college. And to the newfound information, you guess he’s also under twenty three. It explains… a lot. “Between you and me, he’s practically scraping to get money for rent enough as it is.”
You hold back a scoff and instead try to be empathetic so you give your best attempt at a smile to the office worker. You could handle a few months of sleepless nights before he’s eventually evicted, can’t you?
So, just like that, you give up the weekly complaints you send to the landlord.
…Is what you chose to believe as you try your hardest to drown out the noise next door, pillow pressed against your ear with sheer strength before you finally give out, groaning with agony. If you can’t get anybody to listen to your complaints, then who will?
Communication.
Like a light bulb lit above your head you scramble out of your bed, not in the mood to change out of your nightgown, slipped on your slides, and you were now prepared to pay a visit to your more than lovely neighbour, Choi Yeonjun.
You knock a few times. No response.
Before you could get your tenth knock the door swings open to reveal the monster who has been tormenting you for the last few months. You hold up a polite smile, though your eyes unintentionally trail down to his exposed collarbones. A white tank top, a white tank top, a white— “Hey?”
Your eyes widen, getting flustered as you clear your throat, straightening your posture. “Um, so, hi! As you know I’m—"
“Y/N, neighbour 331.” Your brows raise impressed that he actually knew. “The one who’s been submitting complaints on me every Friday, right?”
Oh. He does not like you. Your smile falters for a second before you compose yourself and nod. “I just wanted to come to you instead of going to the landlord tomorrow morning, think it’s better if we communicate.”
He contemplates for a second before nodding, arms crossed lazily, eyes urging you to continue. “…I want to communicate that I am not very…appreciative of the noise every night. Well, I’m sure you already know—and I wish for you to turn it down a notch.”
Yeonjun gives you a tight smile, eyes turning into crescents, with his hand placed behind his door. “Sure.” —is all he says before the door’s slammed shut in your face.
Not taking into account the rudeness of what he just did, you think that was a success. So you take a second to commend yourself and pat yourself on the back, heading to your flat.
To your luck, he goes through with his word and actually keeps it down.
For one night.
You think maybe if you go knocking enough times, he'd follow through each time (which he does) and eventually learn to turn it down without you telling him to (which he doesn't).
You're faced with him again, patience holding by a thread, "Keep. It. Down." you grit out the moment his door opens, eyes with intention to kill.
"Damn. Okay. You can chill out."
And then again.
"Turn your TV down."
And...again.
"I would appreciate it if you turned it down a bit."
It was a daily thing to get up from the comfort of your bed and storm up to his door, your knuckles bruising from the abundance of times you banged on his door.
"At this point, might start thinking you're really into me." You stare at him in disbelief, mouth hung open not able to process the absolute audacity. You're even more pissed when he cheekily points out: "You're drooling."
You immediately shut your mouth before rolling your eyes to absolute oblivion. You hate his guts. Even more when you wipe at your mouth experimentally and do in fact find that he wasn't lying. "Just—just turn it down!"
You truly did not like him, nothing more nothing less. You couldn't even find him more than averagely attractive so there definitely weren't any underlying feelings. You just thought he was way too incredibly cocky for your taste, too unbothered of his surroundings; to you it looked like all that mattered to Yeonjun was himself. Which is a big turn off.
You were definitely all too aware of the numerous times his eyes would, with absolutely no shame, look you up and down, not caring to be discreet about checking you out. Each time you'd scoff, because god, does he remind you of all the reasons you hated college.
You didn't think he was at peak of childishness until the one time you saw Yeonjun arriving at his door as you struggled to key your door open with your sort-of-boyfriend slash co-worker Doyoung (which was another issue you had to deal with all around) beside you, waiting to finally finish off what you started back at his car.
"Hey, hey let me try." Doyoung offers and you let him, awkwardly making way for him to attempt to open your jammed door.
It wasn't hard to feel Yeonjun's quick glances over at you before he says nothing and disappears into the black hole that was his flat. When you came over to his door the next day, the daily reminder to keep it quiet, he does one of his cheesy fuck boy lines from a 2000s movie without fail. Except he doesn't end it there.
He asks you a question you would've snorted at if it wasn't for the fact that it wasn't very humorous to have an annoying neighbor busying themselves with your personal life.
"Was that your boyfriend? Yesterday?" His very weird attempt at keeping his voice monotone and almost nonchalant has you puzzled...not in a good way.
You resort to not answering his question. You didn't have to. "From a scale of one to ten, how valuable is that information to you? It's supposed to be zero lovely neighbour."
"Well, you—you should keep it down next time," he starts, and you're confused. No way. "Couldn't sleep with all the bed creaking."
You could've even retort back and say something like 'oh, now you know how I feel', too embarrassed to say anything before just storming to your door. You did not like Choi Yeonjun.
At all.
All of that was before being stuck in an elevator with a more than a nervous wreck plus one.
"Can you calm down? They'll be here in like, less than a few minutes." You aren't too great at comforting, clearly, as he gets a lot more jittery. "Fuck! It's been five entire minutes!” —Not true. “What if—what if we just die in here, holy shit holy shit." Yeonjun was spiraling as he tries to pace in the confined space, eyes wide with panic, biting down on his bottom lip practically breaking down right in front of your eyes.
"Hey, hey look, just sit. On the floor. Calm down, and collect yourself."
To your surprise, he stops pacing, for a second looks at you before taking a breath and slumping down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. You decide to also sit down, albeit, the awkward distance between the two of you making it less than comfortable. It feels like a few minutes before your ears pick up little sniffles.
Oh well, shit. He was crying. You attempt to not look at him, he was clearly more than vulnerable but your eyes can't help but slowly trail to your side. The confident, cocky neighbor you've had to deal with for the past five months was indeed crying.
Your perception of Yeonjun changes in an elevator that day, just a tiny bit. When he starts to apologize through his sobs, that had quickly picked up sound, you feel something. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just—fuck—"
"What happened?" You don't care, you think you don't, but you still end up asking. And listening.
"Don't judge." he says with that slight break of his voice and you nod.
Your eyes dart back and forth, hyper focused on every feature of his face as he turns to you, venting all of his worries to someone he most likely finds annoying the same way you find him—red runny nose, fox-like eyes already turning bloodshot, the way his perfectly trimmed brows furrow every few sentences like he was thinking over what he should reveal to a stranger that hates him, or his quivering bottom lip whenever he'd take a second to take a breath—your perception of him had definitely changed. Just a tiny bit.
You have no idea what possessed you to reach your thumb out for under his eyes—to wipe. Like you knew him at all. As if he wasn't the neighbor who had been the cause of all the sleepless nights you experienced. It was something about his pouty lips, pinkish tone from all the crying, making you behave so oddly. “Thanks…” Yeonjun’s strained whisper combined with his tears bordering his waterline had got you even more entranced and holy shit— you quickly retract your hand from his face, instead focusing on bright yellow light on your floor number.
“Mhm.” It was a panic hum, like any minute now you would do a very impulsive and frankly out of character thing.
But thankfully his paranoia was proven to not be true as just a few minutes go by before the elevator doors open to reveal someone from what you assume to be the rescue service.
When you get out, Yeonjun is rather quick to go to his flat, avoiding all small talk and shutting his door behind him almost as quick as he ran to it. And as for you, all night is spent sleepless once more. And the cause being once again, Yeonjun. Except it's not his music, his movies, or sex. He keeps oddly quiet that day. No, it's the short dream you have that scares you awake.
Yeonjun. Crying. And a sex dream. Oh you were fucked up.
Not only does that dream scare you wide awake for an entire night, it also scares you from ever approaching his door again. Or when you see him down at the laundry room, or at the elevator, or—
At your door?
When you open to the persistently annoying knock, you don't expect it to be your neighbor. In his signature frat look, a backward cap hanging on his head. "Hey—"
"What do you want?" You cut him off.
"Oh, well, straight to the point, um—Was here to tell you that I'll be throwing a party in just a few hours. So it'll get loud. And I won't be able to turn it down. Sorry."
"Okay." you simply say before adding, "Thanks for giving me a heads up I guess." You attempt to give a smile before shutting your door but Yeonjun stops you with the intervention of his foot between the door and the frame.
"Also. Question.” You quirk a brow. “This is probably really weird to ask because we don't even know each other, but, are you avoiding me? I feel like you are. Was it because of my …crying?" He whispers the last part like its some sacred omen.
"Huh?"
"What happened at the elevator. Can’t you—can’t you just forget about that? I mean I have no idea if you’re avoiding me because of it, but I feel like you are and I don’t know, I just need a confirmation. It’s driving me fucking insane and, and as a man—”
God, you’d do anything to not be the victim of a macho man attempting to explain how weak it is to shed a few tears. So you reveal the reality that you are currently living in. A reality where you dreamed about fucking Choi Yeonjun, A.K.A someone you would consider a mortal enemy by this point.
“I had a sex dream.” It’s the first time you see him taken aback, blinking rapidly, clueless of what you just said. “About you.” you confirm, pursing your lips at the few seconds of silence that followed after. Presuming he has nothing to say to you look down at his foot that was the sole reason you hadn’t shut the door yet.
He scrambles, flustered when he realizes, moving his feet, an incredulous chuckle leaving his lips right after, “Um, yeah, sorry— a sex dream? About me? Huh. I always knew—” With dread, you slam the door shut before he could get another word in, the last thing you see being a smug grin on his face with the newly found information settling in and god you just want to rip your hair out— the absolute last thing you wanted to do was feed his ego. Which you had clearly served to have done.
You choose to huddle up on your couch, watching a random Netflix show to pass time on your vacation day but the show’s too uninteresting so you inevitably end up spacing out.
You’re not entirely sure why you’ve been particularly childish about the dream. Especially since you’ve had awkward sex dreams before, the one about your fuck-ass boss taking the number one spot for most traumatizing. But you’ve never actively ignored anyone or even gave it a second thought other than “Holy shit that was weird.”
So, your subconscious leads you to believe you resorted to avoidance due to the contents of your dream. Said contents being you… dominating a man. Roped up cocky Yeonjun at mercy of every feather touch, squirming in his restraints, face a teary mess with his hair plastered onto his forehead from all the sweat, a ballgag drenched with his spit just to keep him shut, salivating dumbly down under his chin, the prettiest fucked out look, putting the little shit in his place and holy shit are you touching yourself?
Like some prude, you retract your hand out from under your pants and curse yourself at seeing your fingers stick because of your substance—Yeonjun was driving you crazy. And you hated it, he was at most five years younger than you and throughout your life span, you have never felt anything for a younger man—its always been a turn off. Especially when it shows. And with Yeonjun, oh it showed.
Even now as your reverie gets broken by an unrythmic knock similar to before, leading you to be faced by Yeonjun. For the second time today.
His stance is a lot different than an hour ago, almost like that one time on the elevator. “…Hey?” You start out with raised eyebrows.
Confused by his silence you assume what this was about, “I seriously don’t mind the party, I’ll be—”
Your eyes widen in surprise when Yeonjun’s lips crash on yours, roughly taking you up a wind before the realizations sets in the moment his hand start going places it should not be going. You bite down on his lip and he pulls away instantly, groaning, wide eyed, tears already springing on his waterline from the pain. He has the audacity to look offended as he yells with childish shriek of his voice, “What the hell?!”
“Are you insane? Who gave you the right to kiss me you fucking pervert?” You yell back, still shocked at his sudden advancement, finger lingering on your lips.
He visibly deflates with a knit of his eyebrows, eyes wide, "Um? You...you just told me you had a sex dream...of me."
"So?" you whisper-shout exasperated.
"I thought—"
You cut him off. "You thought what? I'd let you barge in here like some lead in a porno and...fuck me?"
He seems to think for a few seconds before literally...nodding, making you nearly gasp. "Well, sort of...yeah? I mean, women don't tell you that they've had a wet dream about you without trying to say something non-verbally." He seems almost proud when he says that, as if he has hundreds of experience in women psych.
Holy fuck. You dreamed about fucking this kid. A dumb frat whose probably got everything handed to him just because he was moderately pretty.
But maybe he wasn't too far off, because you find yourself stupidly attracted to his slightly bruised lip from your bite earlier, his eyes still glossy, iris looking up waiting for you to say something. Holy shit.
"How old are you?" If the age gap was bigger than three years—
"Turned twenty-three last September. Why?"
Two years. Oh fuck, to hell with it all.
You ignore his question and jump straight in the cold, freezing water. "How...much are you willing to do to...fuck me?" The question came out a lot more awkward than you intended.
He huffs out a laugh incredulously waiting for you to say that was a joke, but too much time has passed and now he's seriously thinking it over for a second. "Um...a lot? I don't know. I'm just super horny right now."
If you were in your right mind, you would've rejected him. Out the door he would've been because the way he drawled super had to have been the biggest turn off. But you were also a woman at mercy to her sexual desires. And right now, your sexual desire was Yeonjun.
"Okay," you exhale. "Sure. Let's fuck. But we're doing this my way."
-----
You surprisingly don't possess any toys...other than an unused dildo. You're not sure if he'd be too into that, or if you know him enough to even propose such an idea. So... you’re left empty handed; now all you had was your word and control.
And the slight age difference seemed to help it out too. “I-I’m—holy shit— I’m gonna cum noona, noona—"
Abruptly, you move from his neck that you were just lightly sucking on, hand once palming him over his sweats, retracted. He whines from the loss of friction, opening his shut eyes to give you the nastiest look as he tries to quickly bring back his high but he clearly fails when he groans, nearly feeling his eyes get teary. "Why the fuck would you do that?"
"I told you to stop calling me noona. Plus, I'm not gonna let you soil your pants the minute I get my hands on you."
Wild runs in his eyes and its unlike you’ve seen him. "Holy shit, you're so—" But it’s not intimidating. You cut him off by straddling his lap, and if you weren’t nicer you would’ve laughed at how fast his expression changed. Dumb kid.
He was totally awestricken, wetting his lips for a second until opening them again, "—fucking hot."
You strike a sharp blow across his face, the slap silencing him abruptly. His lips are slightly parted, confusion ridden in his features, his cheek quickly turning a shade of red, ears ringing—then you start grinding and his expression once again morphs into something sinfully pathetic, except this time he had those tears threatening to spill. “Don’t call me hot again. Understood?”
“It’s a fucking complim—”
You shove two fingers in his mouth to attempt of actually shutting this man up, and for a bit it serves to gag him until a lewd thought popped in your head. “Suck. Or I kick you out and you can jerk off your stupid dick alone.”
He immediately obeys, sucking on your two fingers, his saliva coating them. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shifting his position and not attempting to buck his hips like a dumb rabid dog. He was getting off from this.
You were proven more when you start pumping your digits in his mouth, too fascinated at how he sucks in his cheeks, making eye contact, whining on your fingers. “Why’re you so frustrating? Could’ve been a good boy from the beginning.”
You rolled your hips into his more, his dick hardening you’re surprised he hasn’t complained yet. “When are we gonna fuck?” He whines when your fingers are out of his watering mouth.
Clearly, you speak too soon.
“Never if you keep being a fucking bitch. You know how much sleep I lost because of your idiotic shenanigans? Let me have my fun.”
A lot. He was insufferable the first three months, dark circles getting more deep set. Feeling anger bubble up, you move to roughly trailing wet kisses down his neck and goodness is he audible—his soft moans are truly music to your ears. “You’re loud.”
And it gets you to needily grind down on his bulge even more, your core aching. Unfortunately, he takes this as you scolding him to be quiet, and so for a second, he’s extremely quiet. “No, no, want you to be loud. Love your needy voice, such a pretty dumb boy.” you breathe, getting off on his lap.
You suck hard on a sensitive spot and he spasms, whimpering. “Noona—”
You bite down on his exposed shoulder and Yeonjun cries. “Told you to stop calling me that freak.”
“Don’t care, I wanna call you noona,” you swallow the lump in your throat because the honorific does spur you on his lap, “My noona.”
Your eyes widen, flustered hands raising to slap him again, which he doesn’t dodge. Hot cheeks so red from the two times you hit his pretty face, tears long spilling down them, is so much better than the dream—except his bratty smirk pulls you out of the fantasy. “Stop pushing it dumb frat.”
His hips buck to hump up against your pussy and you really start to think he enjoys getting slapped. “P-please, want your pussy. Been thinking about it all week.”
“All week?”
“Y-yeah, since that guy fucked you dumb, like a bitch.” If it weren’t for how distracted you were getting by his twitching dick in between your thighs, you would’ve given him another strike against his face—and maybe then he would’ve shut up for good.
“You want to fuck me like a bitch?” you slur in his ear in mock tone, “You?”
He furrows his brows, visibly getting haughty. “Yes, me. What about it?” he bites.
You whine at the cute knit of his brows, the pout that rests his pretty lips. You lean to kiss them, you’ve been thinking of doing that since the beginning—they looked so pillowy, soft, everything you could now feel as he eagerly returns the chaste mouth to mouth.
It’s quick to turn messy, spit smothered by the side of his lips when you cup his cheeks—then you let go, abruptly. Yeonjun tries to blindly chase your lips, but you’re unrelenting, working yourself on his lap. “You can’t fuck me like him Jjunie.”
“I can fuck your brains out, you—” He’s mid barking back at your statement, his ego clearly beaten down to the ground, but you do the next thing you’ve been dying to try—playing with his nipples. You graze them with your thumb when you’ve had your hands under his shirt for a good minute—a fact unnoticed by the man under you—and that gets him mewling. Mewling.
“F-fuck, don’t touch me there..”
“But I thought you could fuck my brains out?” you mock with a pout, “How come you get like this just by…”
You pinch his nipples slightly and he throws his back on the couch almost immediately, whimpering through his tightly closed lips. “Me touching your tits?”
“Don’t c-call them that.”
“Tits? But you like this don’t you?” you ask softly, studying every bit of a jerk, or a slight quiver of his bottom lip. He loved every second of this, but you needed him to tell you. You stop massaging his nips, removing your hand entirely from under his shirt, which gets his eyes to fly open, holding your wrist. “I do! I do. I like it when you play with my tits.” he says exasperated, raising your hand under his shirt again.
What a desperate whore.
You smirk, incredibly engrossed by his eagerness, and his swollen glistening lips from your brief makeout earlier. “Yeah?” you drawl, pressing on his bud just a tiny bit, and he nods. Thank god he was sensitive.
“Mhm.” he hums, still pathetically chasing your warmth. All he can think with is his dick.
“Thought about wrecking my tight, little pussy so bad all week, huh? Jerked off to the thought all week? Poor baby. Then I have to make it up to you today don’t I?” you know those words would make him act up more, getting him unbearably hard to the point its torture. And god, now your panties were uncomfortably sticking to your pussy.
“N-noona let me—let me—” Yeonjun’s crying more as the friction between your bodies gets too overwhelming for him— and gosh, does he look like such a dumb boy; none of his cocky stupid shit from earlier.
It was hot.
“Want my pussy?”
His nods are frantic, so much that you snort. “Yes, yes please. Wanted to fuck you dumb ever since you came over. You never gave me any attention, jus’ wanted to make a mess of you, cumming all over your tits—”
No way. He was a pervert from the beginning? You thought he hated your guts just as much as you did him. “Did that filthy fantasy give you a good enough reason to ruin my sleep schedule and ..and all my chances at a promotion? Huh? Because of you i can’t even dream of it—“
You were lying. Losing sleep had definitely affected your work performance but it wasn’t to the point you couldn’t aim for a little promotion. But you liked seeing his guilt pool in, crying, crying sooo pathetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know noona, I swear.”
His hiccups are enough to get you to fasten your speed on his lap, the friction working to get you off.
“Yeah. Because your undeveloped brain can’t grasp at the real worlds consequence. I hate guys like you. So immature and dumb.”
That snaps something in him clearly as he finds the tongue to retort, “If you hated me you—you wouldn’t be getting off on my cock.”
You scoff, especially at picking up on the strained moan he tries to conceal, the shudder of his body giving away the orgasm. Choi Yeonjun just came. Untouched.
You could feel it between your legs, the warmth spread disgustingly all over and you grimace. “Gross.”
He groans out of embarrassment, hiding his face with an arm. And now you’re just sitting on his wet lap, contemplating two things. Kicking him out or getting to satisfy your needs?
Unfortunately, the banging on a door pauses your movement of unbuckling his jeans and you can’t hide the roll of your eyes. “Yeonjun! Are you home?!”
Convenient timing. Not.
You don’t let your disappointment show—he came and you hadn’t. You instead turn to face him, giving him a mocking smile, “You have a party to host ...oops.” And at least end it with the illusion you had the upper hand.
But Yeonjun is not as willing to give it up. “I don’t give a shit. I host these weekly,” Oh, you know. “…Can you at the least …let me eat you out?”
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a/n; lol this got longer than i intended to the point i was thinking about naming it and getting it out as an actual fic but ehhhhh ill leave it raw 🥲 wish my shitty neighbor was yeonjun but we move 😁!!!!!
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In conclusion, FUCK rhysand
Currently up to ACOMAF, and I just finished the part with Rhysand's exposition justifying his actions UTM, this scene in particular pissed me off beyond measure. I already hated Rhysand in the first book, but this one was the nail on the coffin.
'So I watched your first trial. Pretending- always pretending to be the person that you hated. When you were hurt so badly against the Wyrm... I found my way in with you. A way to defy Amarantha, to spread the seeds of hope to those who knew how to read the message, and a way to keep you alive without seeming too suspicious.' (ACOMAF p525)
Rhysand can change memories. If he'd truly wanted to help Feyre, he literally could have visited her in secret and wiped the memories of anyone who found out about their alliance.
'I found those three picts. I broke into their minds, reshaping their lives, their histories, and dragged them before Amarantha.' (ACOMAF p 523).
Honestly, he could have just been like 'I know that you hate me and I hate Tamlin, but it would be really great if you could break this curse for the good of all of Prythian, so I'm gonna help you. You just gotta pretend to hate me until the curse is broken, m'kay?'
Whilst writing this bit, I also realised that he never apologised for GRABBING HOLD OF AND TWISTING THE BONE OF HER BROKEN ARM?!?
'Let me see it.' A growl rippled from him. Without waiting for my reaction, he grabbed my elbow and forced my arm into the dim light of the cell. I bit my lip to keep from crying out - bit it hard enough to draw blood as rivers of fire exploded inside me, as my head swam, and all my senses narrowed down to the piece of bone sticking through my arm. (ACOTAR p. 331)
Rhysand: Don't you dare touch my mate or even look at her wrong, but yeah I totally twisted her broken arm into an agreement with me that utterly humiliated her for WEEKS :)
(canon, Rhysand was also too stupid to figure out Amarantha's riddle, that's why he had to pull all of this shit.)
Moving on,
'I made you dress like that so Amarantha wouldn't suspect, and made you drink the wine so you would not remember the nightly horrors in that mountain.' (ACOMAF p.525)
I spent my days sleeping off the faerie wine, dozing to escape the humiliation I endured.' (ACOTAR 354)
HORRORS AND HUMILIATION THAT YOU SUBJECTED HER TO YOU FUCKING SJERGT$GT%H
Yep, absolutely, the obvious answer is to dress her provocatively, drug her, make her perform lap dances, and basically put all of your attention on her, that's definitely keeping her out of harms way and out of anyone's attention. TF??!!!
Rhysand has been Amarantha's toy for 50 years now, don't you think she would find it more suspicious that after all that time, he's decided to spend time in any capacity with the one person that is meant to break the curse and defeat her? I just *give up*
There's plenty more that could be said, but these are the things that stuck out to me the most. In general, this entire bit of the book sounded too practised, you know? Like during the time they spent apart because Feyre was justifiably pissed about him keeping the mate secret, he was busy cooking up this convoluted, air-tight story that explained away all of his bullshit. He had an answer for EVERYTHING, and explained it all away as 'but it was for your own good'.
He also never apologised for ANY of the shit he pulled on Feyre, not even a 'By the way, sorry for twisting your arm or making you dress in half a tissue or drugging you or making you do lap dances on me or treating you like my property that no-one else could touch.'
I also find it hard to believe that Feyre, don't-lie-to-me-or-treat-me-like-a-pawn-feyre forgave him so easily for that. She was literally just like 'OH well, you love me, actions excused have some soup :)'
Anyway, that's about as much as I've got energy for right now. Would love to hear anyone's thoughts!
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pozartaa · 2 months
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27.01.24 UTRZYMANIE WAG1 dzień 331.
CHEAT DAY 2/2 W styczniu .
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Dziś Cheat Day drugi w styczniu. Od lutego będzie tylko raz w miesiącu, bo ostatnio uświadomiłam sobie, że nie jest mi aż tak bardzo potrzebny, jak kiedyś na redukcji - kiedy zmieniałam dopiero swoje nawyki żywieniowe i tęskniłam za takim jedzeniem.
W lutym dorzucam kolejny Dzień Bez Liczenia Kalori1. Będzie ich już 8 w miesiącu. Niezły wynik. Ale liczenia nie rzucę zupełnie, a to dlatego że mam tendencje do jedzenia sporo mniej w dni w które nie liczę. Czasami można sobie na to pozwolić, tak jak na ogromnego kebaba ale nie ciągle... tak jak na ogromnego kebaba... Jeśli chce się w@gę utrzymać.
***
Ale oczywiście moje wynurzenia o niezamierzonym deficycie w kontekście dzisiejszego "dnia żarłoka" mogą się wydawać śmieszne. Lol, pośmiejmy się wiec razem 😉.
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Dzisiejsze "niegrzeczne" jedzenie to duży kebs z kurczakiem, serem i sosem BBQ od Zachir Kebab. (1634 kcal) W Fitatu znalazłam coś, co kalorycznie odpowiada tej abominacji i wpisałam. Zachir ma jakąś tam tabele kaloryczna na swojej stronce więc można niby oszacować.
Dobry był i ogromny. Na trzy razy wchodził i w końcu trochę zostawiłam. Wewnętrzny Żarłok został nakarmiony i musi teraz cicho siedzieć prawie do połowy lutego 😁. Jeśli zastanawia was jak to możliwe... to tak... Potrafię zeżreć na prawdę dużo. 🙈
***
Jutro na dniówkę do pracy. Jest niedziela handlowa, raczej będzie spokój w interesie. Dziś sobie ugotowałam fasolkę po bretońsku i to danie będziecie widzieli teraz cały następny tydzień.
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Dobrej nocy wam życzę! Jutro też jest rest day od ćwiczeń (12 h na nogach w pracy mi wystarczy). Zakwasy już mi nie przeszkadzają i jest trochę łatwiej także trzymamy się dalej postanowień i robimy lepsze ciałko na lato.
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canarytry · 1 year
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Tumblr Bell Songs Compiled from the Notes on that One @Unpretty post
I @ everyone I grabbed from, some are probably repeats and some I def. missed but here’s what I got! Thanks to @unpretty for revealing to me the bells
Non-Christmas Songs:
concerning hobbits @fipindustries 1235321 3568753432 123532121 35666 66532321
"Lord of the Rings" @limulusamebocytelysate 1235321 35687532 123532121 356 (pause) 532 (pause) 1
Mary had a little lamb @prisma-the-spooktacular 6545666 555688 6545666 655654
Carry On My Wayward Son @parvasilvi 1358755654 13587532 1358755654 123211
smash mouth all star @snow4berry 4 86 6 54 47 76655 48665 44221 44 8665 5447 7665 548 866 5 45 2
M*A*S*H theme @heroofthreefaces 78787876 67676765 56565654 45454567 6767676 767676 3456787656
Do-re-mi: @prisma-the-spooktacular 1231313 2344324 3453536 4566546 5123456 6234567 7345678 876475 8532
(celine dion - my heart will go on :3c) @something-about-sunflowers 4 44 434 4 3 4 5 6 5 4 44 434 4 1 (x2) little off on this next part but 4 5 1 8 765 6 765 43432
Never Gonna Give You Up @bedheaddeadhead 1131665 1131554 113145 321 154
mr. sandman @foolishmortal 13 57 65 3 1 24 68 7
wonderwall: @marghen 32121212 212121231 3212122 21221231 353556531 22231 8678 32121212212121231 321212221221231 353556531 22231 8678 78267826786 78267826786 8267826 632231 1123216 331— 717171131— 3451— 3343321—
twinkle twinkle little star: @unpretty 1155665 4433221 5544332 5544332 1155665 4433221
this old man: @unpretty 535 535 6543234 3451111 12345 5224321
“His Theme” (Undertale): @patema-introverted 1541334 141334 1541334 146545
Hanukkah Songs:
the dreidel song: @mishafletcher 535353 355432 424242 454321
Christmas Carols:
Joy to the world: @prisma-the-spooktacular 8765 4321 56 67 78 887655 43 887655 43 333345 43 2222 34 21 8765 4321
Ode to Joy! @ardatli 3345 5432 1123322 3345 5432 1123211 231 23431 23432 125 3345 5432 1123211
Santa Claus is Coming To Town @phlebasphonecian 53455 56788 345556544 35132421
The First Noel @phlebasphoenician 3212345 678765 67876 5678543 3212345 678765 6787656 78543 321345 87665 8765678543
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer- @incognito-princess 5653865 5656587 4542765 5656563 5653865 5656587 4542765 5656587 6676535 46543 2356777 8876542 5653865 565687 4542685 454578
It Came Upon A Midnight Clear @boomstab-papa 16 35421 21 12344565 16 35421 21 12 23214 66 11234 56 55432321 16 35421 21 12 23214
joy to the world @Unpretty 87654321 566778 88765543 88765543 3333345 4222234 321865434321
Jingle Bells @runawaymarbles @mhalachai 14321 1115432 25432 66535 14321 15432 22543 666 676521
333 333 35123 4444 43333 3223 2 5 333 333 35123 4444 4333 554 2 1
In Excelsis Deo / Angels we have heard on high: @vimpiritea 333 55 43 323 5 3 21 333 55 43 323 5 3 21 5 65434 54323 43212 55 1234 3 2 1
we wish you a merry christmas if you're willing to get a little creative with the octave @hi-my-name-is-dotdotdot 58828766 62232875 53343286 556278
feliz navidad / we wanna wish you a merry christmas @hi-my-name-is-dotdotdot 58786 72865 58786 4665555443 3333211666 2222166555 3333211666 587721
it feels like christmas: @beggars-opera 11112345 5653 33343234 4542 33212365 532155 11112345 5653 33343234 4542 33212365 532155 55 565534 4543223 343215 65 5655334 4543223 343215 11112345 5653 33343234 4542 33212365 532155 33212365 43211 34355 77788 34355
Adeste Fiedles is (roughly, the bells don’t have accidentals) @thenoonesenseofladypole 552562 767876 5542456 74311
The First Noel: @deseretgear 3212345 678765 678765 678543 3212345 678765 678765 678543 3212345 87665 8765678543
Silent night @castisteard 5653 5653 886774 556543432 556543342 6676536 6434321
The first notes of Good King Wenceslas @theyhaveacavetroll 4445441 212344
we wish you a merry christmas @alabaster-moon 1 4 45432 2 2 5 56543 1 1 6 67654 2 112 5 3 4 1 4 4 4 3- 3 4 3 2 1 5 6 55448 1 112 5 3 4
we wish you a merry christmas: @distant-daydreams 14454322 25565431 16676542 112534
little drummer boy: @distant-daydreams 12333 34343 112333 34343 234555 65432 234555 67654 6543 5432 12333 34343 2121
Good King Wenceslas @damnsmartblueboxes 5556552 323455 5556552 323455 8764543 323455 2234556 8764 5--7--5
Miniature Overture from the Nutcracker: @extra-magichours 1 4 3265 1 4321 3 2 1 4 3265 86543231
This is the chorus to my favorite Christmas Carol: @emberlark 2342665 1231554 234245321 154 2342665 1231854 234245321 154
Away. In a manger @saiiditallbefore 887665 44321 112115 32135 887665 44321 154352 23121
here’s feliz navidad: @capsie 14 342 25 421 14 342 1211111111 (can’t go lower :[) (repeat x times) 6666 544 222 5555 422 114 6666 544 222 5433 35 5 654 (repeat x times)
this is the best I could do for “greensleeves”  @runawaymarbles 234565421 23422 12311 234565421 345432123 8876531 12422 12311 8876531 234222123
Carol of the Bells @dracificia 3231323132313231 3231323132313231 888765554344453211 888765554344453211
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Weekly Wrapup 1/28/24
This Week's Rankings:
Toni Storm - 88.1% smash
Finn Balor - 83.7%
Claudio Castagnoli - 73.0%
Penta el Zero Miedo - 70.4%
Daniel Garcia - 69.5%
Tanga Loa - 68.7%
Tyler Bate - 66.5%
Oro Mensah - 62.6%
UltraMantis Black - 50.9%
EVIL - 41.0%
Baron Corbin - 37.8%
JD McDonagh - 27.7%
Corey Graves - 26.1%
Gene Munny - 12.4%
More stats under the cut, along with my observations, commentary, and some of my favorite tags...
Most total votes this week (most enthusiasm)
Toni Storm - 385 votes
Claudio Castagnoli - 341
Finn Balor - 332
Daniel Garcia - 331
Penta el Zero Miedo - 277
And least total votes this week (least enthusiasm)
UltraMantis Black - 161
Oro Mensah - 182
Gene Munny - 194
& 5. Tanga Loa and Baron Corbin - 201
The closest poll was UltraMantis Black, who won 82 to 79
Top Ten Overall
Kris Statlander - 91% smash
Athena - 90.2% smash
Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash
Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash
Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash
Toni Storm - 88.1% smash
Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash
Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash
Bianca Belair - 86.4% smash
Hikuleo - 86.0% smash
Bottom Ten Overall
Vince McMahon - 3.9% smash
Kane (Corporate variant) - 10.1% smash
Miracle Violence Connection - 11.8% smash
Gene Munny - 12.4% smash
Triple H (Terra Ryzing variant) - 18.6% smash
Charlie Dempsey - 22.1% smash
The Boogeyman - 22.6% smash
Brock Lesnar - 23.2% smash
Marty Scurll - 23.8% smash
Ranjin Singh - 24.7% smash
Top Women Overall
Kris Statlander - 91% smash
Athena - 90.2% smash
Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash
Toni Storm - 88.1% smash
Bianca Belair - 86.4% smash
Bottom Women Overall
Carmella - 47.8% smash
Nikkita Lyons - 48.2% smash
Julia Hart (Cheerleader Variant) - 49.8% smash
Sherri Martel - 63.1% smash
Aubrey Edwards - 66.1% smash
Top Men Overall
Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash
Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash
Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash
Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash
Hikuleo - 86.0% smash
Top Tag Teams
The Golden Lovers - 80.4% smash
Best Friends - 66.7% smash
Motor City Machine Guns - 65.5% smash
Young Bucks - 43.8% smash
Ink Inc. - 25% smash
Average Smash Rating
Week 1: 52.7% Week 2: 57.7% Week 3: 54.4% Week 4: 62.9% Week 5: 58.4% Week 6: 55.9% Week 7: 59.6% Week 8: 56.7% Week 9: 53.3% Week 10: 57.6% Week 11: 55.6%
AEW's Blackpool Combat Club has been completed! Their rankings are below:
Jon Moxley - 84.8%
Wheeler Yuta - 77.1%
Claudio Castagnoli - 73.0%
William Regal - 65.6%
Bryan Danielson - 46.8%
Every one of these guys received over 300 votes, with Bryan Danielson passing the 400 vote mark waaaaaay back in the first week of this blog's existence.
We also have results for Haku and family:
Hikuleo - 86.0%
Tanga Loa - 68.7%
Tama Tonga - 65.9%
Haku - 30.6%
Short wrap-up commentary this week due to not feeling well. Next week's will be late because February 11 is my anniversary and I will be busy celebrating being married.
And now for some of my favorite tags and comments
@pavlovean on Corey Graves: #great mysteries of the world: who built the pyramids?#what happened to db cooper?#how the fuck did corey graves pull carmella?
@tache-noire on Penta el Zero Miedo: #most smashable faceless man excluding slenderman in 2013
@pavlovean on Finn Balor: #i am so sorry his face reminds me of a very small kitten that has had too much milk to drink
@madduchessal on JD McDonagh: #He's the equivalent of 'we have Finn Balor at home'
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trainsinanime · 10 months
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tell me about french train headlights
They're all the same! Or at least they were, from the mid-1950s to about the early 1990s. They all look like this:
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Okay, some context for why I find this interesting. Suppose you see a picture of a train, especially one made in the second half of the 20th century, and you want to know where the train is from. The key trick to telling this at a glance is having a bit of autism, but more specifically, the headlights.
In Europe, all major and many minor countries used to have their own government-owned railroad and their own train-building industry, which would build trains to the specifications of their railroad company. There has always been some exporting going on, but for the most part, the trains you'd find in Germany, France, Switzerland, Austria and so on would be all completely different. This has changed drastically over the past 20ish years.
One thing about this old model is that railroad companies would standardise certain parts within their fleets, especially small parts that need servicing and replacing every now and then. It saves on how many different types of spare parts you need to have.
Headlights are the most notable among these by far: Every train needs to have some of them. All trains have basically the same requirements for their headlights, no matter how fast or slow or whatever they are. Before LEDs, you needed to service the headlights regularly to replace the light bulbs, and as glass parts at the front of a fast moving vehicle, they can get damaged, so spare parts logistics are an issue. And most importantly, we as railfans can easily see them. So you get something like this:
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As a result, basically all railroad companies in post-war Europe standardised their head- and taillights for all or most of their trains. And all of them had completely different ideas. Fundamentally, all of them agreed that you need white headlights and red taillights, and since modern trains are easily reversible, you put both of them next to each other.
But do you make the white and red lights the same size (West Germany, Netherlands) or different sizes (Austria, East Germany)? Are they separate things, or do you combine them into one assembly (UK, Switzerland)? Do you make them anything approaching normal sized or gigantic (Poland)? Maybe I'll do an overview post over these later, but I don't have enough pictures in my library right now and I'd have to scour Wikipedia for them later.
The French headlight design shown here is in many ways just one of many, but also interesting in its own right: The actual lenses for red and white are the same size, but the white headlight gets this huge lens assembly that makes it look much more prominent. You can clearly see that different French designers had very different ideas about whether you the center-lines (most of them), or the bottom of the lens assembly. Why is the headlight lens so big, and what are the metal was around the bottom half of the circle? I have no clue. My guess is to put some coloured glass panes in, but I have no idea why you'd need that. Also, note that the red taillight classically has a fresnel lens, that's unique as far as I can tell.
I've taken all these pictures in the Cité du Train, the big central French railroad museum in Mulhouse. (That's why I was posting about traveling to Basel early this weekend. Mulhouse is actually really close to Basel, and going via Switzerland is the most practical—and most scenic—route for me) The oldest locomotive I could find with these headlights was CC-7107:
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During high speed trails in the early 1950s, this locomotive reached a speed of 326 km/h (203 mph). That made it only second best behind the other locomotive at the trials, BB-9004:
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This one reached 331 km/h (206 mph), a world record that would not be beaten for a long time. The difference was nothing to do with technical performance. Instead, both locomotives melted their pantograph, the part on top that touches the overhead line to get power, at around 320 km/h (200 mph). BB-9004 had a second one that it could lift up to continue accelerating, while CC-7107 only had the one. For a long time, SNCF pretended that both locomotives had reached 331 km/h, to protect the reputation of both manufacturers.
What's notable for our purposes is that BB-9004 has different headlights. As far as I can tell, these seem to be an earlier standard design, also found e.g. on the CC-65001 diesel locomotive:
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And even on steam locomotives, like this class 141 R:
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So CC-7107 lost on the high speed world record, but it was the way of the future when it came to headlights. These headlights then started cropping up everywhere. From the detail pictures I've shown you above, we have e.g. Le Petit Gris (the small grey one, an EMU for suburban services in Paris):
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A CC-6500, dressed up with a nameplate for the express train it was hauling. Fun fact: One locomotive of this type (not this one) was used in the US for a while, as Amtrak was trying out new electric locomotives to use. They weren't happy with it and bought a Swedish one instead, mostly because this locomotive's suspension did not work well with the American track quality.
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A Z 2200, a diesel railcar for rural lines designed to be cheap first, second and third.
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A BB-26000, which feels altogether way to new to be in this museum.
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It's from the 1980s, so I guess the first are reaching retirement age. But at the same time: The train I took from Basel to Mulhouse was still pulled by one of these BB-26000.
Other favourites include the BB-25600 with its rare diagonal light arrangement:
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Or the really terribly lit gas turbine train RTG, which puts the headlight on stalks:
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Fun fact: Amtrak did end up buying a few these. They didn't use the same white headlights (although they did use the same stalks), but they did use the same fresnel lens red taillights.
And the headlights went all the way up to the top. To the TGV. Only these headlights aren't very aerodynamic, so for their high-speed train, SNCF decided to cover them up.
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As far as I can tell, SNCF used these headlights in the TGVs up to the Réseau series, including the Eurostar. That meant that they're also found, though behind faded glass, on the TGV Atlantique 325 in the outdoor area. Number 325 is notable because it was involved in another high speed trail, and reached 515.3 km/h (320.3 mph) on May 18th, 1990.
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That was a world record, of course; in fact only the French ever exceeded 500 km/h on conventional railroads. So these headlights did get their world record after all. They didn't get to keep it for long, though. In 2007, a newer TGV reached 574.8 km/h (357.2 mph). That one is still in service, though, and it was equipped with newer LED headlights. I think it's highly unlikely that this record will be broken anytime soon, but if anyone does, I wouldn't be surprised if it were the French again, they like that sort of stuff.
Some final odds an ends with the headlights, though: Here's CC-40101, which isn't actually relevant, I just like the way it looks.
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Designed for service in France, Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany, with four different voltages and four different train control systems, and that with mid-1960s technology. It wasn't quite as successful as hoped, and in service it only ever reached Belgium, but still, look at that design. The front is supposed to evoke an athlete, a sprinter about to start, but this type of design has instead become known as "Nez cassé", broken nose.
BB-9291 shows a rare early version without red tail lights at all. Someone thought they were saving money.
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This small work train has a free-standing version of the headlight, which shows us how deep it really is. Apparently, the French headlight is actually not that deep, and isn't that a nice summary for this post?
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And a personal favourite of mine, I even bought a T-Shirt with it on it, the Z 600:
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The design, in particular the side windows (recessed instead of flush, no outside visible gasket) says Swiss, the headlight and SNCF logo says French, it's narrow gauge and it has a third rail to provide power. Just all around a weird little train, for the weird little line known as the Mont-Blanc Express from France via Switzerland to the bottom of the Mont-Blanc mountain. The train was built in Switzerland, experts of building small trains for mountains, but for the French part of that rail line, so it got French headlights.
Headlights with exporting is a fun topic in its own right. Do you keep the headlights from the country of origin, or demand your own? You will find both approaches. Both Portugal and the Netherlands bought very similar electric locomotives from France. Portugal has French headlights, the Netherlands insisted on (less interesting) dutch ones.
These days, of course, you will still find these headlights, but they're getting rarer. They stopped being used in new trains around the mid-1990s. What's more, the ones you do find, like on this MI-84 in Paris, probably don't have the fresnel lens taillight anymore. Instead, those were replaced with LEDs.
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LED lights for railroads make a lot of sense. They last forever and require less power. And since most railroads have standardised their head- and taillights, you just need to design one replacement light for most of France, and then keep building that one until SNCF stops giving you money.
(Since we're showing a picture from Paris, a quick note: These headlights were never used on passenger-carrying trains for the Paris metro. However, some work trains do have them.)
These days, standard headlights are completely gone. LEDs don't need a lot of replacing, and they give you much more freedom to do things like shapes and patterns and designs. Also, we don't have the "one country, one railroad, one rail industry" pattern anymore. Instead now we have multi-national rail conglomerates. Alstom is technically French, but arguably just as much German, ever since they bought Bombardier's rail division, nominally Canadian. Stadler is Swiss, except for the stuff they build in Germany or Poland or Belarus or Hungary or…, and some of their most interesting products right now are built and designed in Spain.
The end result of that is this:
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That's a company I saw at a trade fair (Innotrans, Berlin, 2022) that makes LED train headlights, and specifically they make… all of them? Okay, I'm exaggerating, but this is a great picture to drive a European rail fan insane as they try to assign the different headlights to different trains. You get Stuttgart trams, German (and Turkish) high speed trains, lots and lots of Swiss stuff. Nothing specifically French that I could tell, but at least the German high speed train regularly travels to Paris.
The standard headlights, or their LED variants, were still in use for work trains until fairly recently. There are not that many companies that make rail grinders or ballast tampers, and those tend to just use whatever headlight their customer tells them to. But these days they go for shaped LED headlights as well, because they're just better, and because thanks to European standardisation, a headlight approved in one country can (generally) be used in all European countries.
(All pictures © me, feel free to use them under CC-BY-SA 3.0 DE if you want)
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gardening-tea-lesbian · 4 months
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lonestarflight · 8 months
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Space Station Freedom concept art by Roger Belstein.
Date: 1988
SDASM Archives: Bilstein_00989
NASA ID: S88-27194, 86-H-331
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headsincloud9 · 9 months
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Part 4 | Part 6
SMUT MINORS DNI
298. "You didn't seem like you were having such a bad time last night.
299. "Did...did we use protection?"
300. *wakes up, sees __ and screams'
301. "Good girl."
302. "Good boy."
303. "Come here."
304. "Can I tough you?"
305. "I'I guide your hands."
306. "Oh fuck me." "That's the plan."
307, "Open up."
308. "The night's still young."
309. "One more cheesy pick up line and I'm gonna bend you over the table and fuck you
front of everyone.
310. "If you try wearing that out, I will rip it off of you."
311. "How about I take you under the table right now with my fingers?"
312. "My parents are home!" "Then I guess you'll have to be quiet.
313. "I need you in every shape of the word. I need you emotionally, physically, and at th
exact moment, sexually too."
314. "So you're saying you don't want to have sex with me?"
315. "I'm sorry - are you sure you-"
316. "I think you'll be happy to know I'm nit wearing any underwear."
317. "How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?"
318, "You look good all soaking wet."
319. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you."
320, "If you're going to act like a littie brat, then I'm going to treat you like a littie brat."
321. "I don't care how good it feels, you better not cum until I tell you to."
322. "You take my fingers so well don't you?""
323. "Shut up and take your pants off."
324. "When I get home I expect you to be undressed and waiting on all fours for me."
325. "Do you need me to finger you first?"
326. "Did I stutter? Do as you're told!"
327. "You better be quiet or everyone going to know what a naughty little slut you are."
328. "Maybe if I punish you, it'll help you remember who you belong to next time
329. "Do you want it on your back, or would you like to be on your stomach?"
330. "Oh honey, you know you really shouldn't tease me."
331. "If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself,"
332. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?"
333, "H love to see you squirm, now I want to hear you moan
334. "Don't fight your orgasm. Just relax."
335. "Too bad the others are watching, or I'd be on my knees with you in my mouth."
336. "It's your fault I'm like this."
337. "You did this to me, now fix it."
338. "If you don't pump me now, I'll stuff my dick inside you. I don't care if it'l hurt."
339. "First you're going to get down on your knees, then you're going to taste me."
340, "Put me out of my misery and open up those long legs for me.
341. "Try not to ruin your manicure when you dig those nails into my back."
342. "I'm going to remember this moment when I'm jerking off later."
343. "| bought a few new pieces of lingerie. Want me to model them for you?"
344. "Keep playing that video game. I want to see if you can keep your focus while I suck your cock."
345. "I don't need any foreplay. I just need you inside me. Right now."
346. "I took a few sexy photos, so you have something to masturbate to when I'm at we
347. "Be rough with me. Blindfold me. Throw me against the wall, I can handle it."
348. "Keep the lights on. I want to see your tits bouncing up and down."
349. "Let's get drunk and have sex in the riskiest place we can find."
350. "Take off from work tomorrow. You'll be too sore to go in."
351. "Want to play some games at the arcade? Or should we stay home and play with eachother?"
352. "Don't spend too much time on your hair, because I'm going to be yanking on it sc
353. "Don't spend too much time on your hair, because I'm going, to be yanking on it so
354. "I never realized how meaningful sex could be until we got together.
355. "You're mine tonight, and that isn't ever going to change."
356, "Help me put on the condom. I want to feel your hands over me."
357. "My body wants you as badly as my heart does.
358. "You have total and complete control over me."
359, "I can't believe how wet you are already."
360. "If I serenade you, will you strip for me?"
361. "1 looked at your naughty pictures at work today, and I couldn't get rid of my hard
362. "You're too flexible for your own good."
363. "Let's fuck in the shower so it feels like we're kissing in the rain."
364. "I can tell you're stressed. Let me fix that."
365. "I made you a bath. Want to take it together?"
366. "I bought us a new mattress, since we wore out the old one.
367. "If you keep fucking me this good, I'll marry you."
368. "1 just showered, but I don't mind taking a second one with you."
369, "We're the sexiest couple I've ever seen."
370, "I want you to be my wife, so I can do naughty things with you for the rest of my li
371. "You have a voice like an angel and a body I'd fuck you from behind, but then I wont get to see those pretty eyes."
372. You're the reason 1 smile so wide and come so hard.
373. I love that the sexlest woman I've ever met is my best friend, too.
374. Come to bed, I can't sleep without your hips pressed against mine.
375. The only thing hotter than seeing you orgasm is seeing you smile
376. You don't belong in my bed. You belong on magazine covers.
377. That guy was totally checking you out. Want to invite him home with us?
378. I can't believe I found a woman who can cook as good as she fucks. a devil."
379. "I'd fuck you from behind, but then I wouldn't get to see those pretty eyes."
380. "I love that the sexiest woman I've ever met is my best friend, too."
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tgmsunmontue · 1 month
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Tell me what to write weekend...
Reply or send an anon with letters/numbers and I commit to writing a minimum of 250 words for that fic. (Numbers indicate fics I am consciously working on completing. Letters are fics that are getting completed because people ask for me to work on them... the astericks are soon to become numbered fics. Yes I have a ranking system.).
(Including current word counts for each document so you can get an idea of whether something might be close to getting finished...)
1) You need to learn how to fall (11.5k) (+510) (+337) (+301)
2) Come on baby light my fire (2k) (+1,220)
*A) Ice/Mav TimeLoop - Mav wakes up in a time-loop. But it's just a completely normal day. Nothing dangerous or life-changing. Or so he thinks. (Tumblr post) (1.5k) (+508)
B) Sagas of Solitude/WIP B- IceMav with side Hangster AU - Bradley Bradshaw who has to keep his relationship with Mav and Ice a secret when he starts at the USNA. (3.5k)
C) Jake wakes up in the future, gets a glimpse of what his life could be and then wakes up back right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment (e.g. TGM). (Tumblr post and the beginning of the fic) (500) (+271)
D) Untitled - Javy/Nat and Hangster - based of that beautiful art and there's the coming together of best friends of a couple years after their wedding. (Everyone naval aviators) (2k)
E) Cake Decorator Jake (Bradley still a naval aviator) (1k)
F) Cake Decorator Bradley (Jake still a naval aviator) (1k) (+631) (+535) FINISHED
*G) Movie star Jake and Stunt coordinator Bradley. (Fleshing out this idea). (2k)
*H) The Ice/Mav epistolary fic where Jake and Bradley matchmake them, not realising exactly who it is they've matched together. (2k)
I) The peach and eggplant socks as an anonymous gift as an incredibly unsubtle hint that someone would like to fuck them. (569)
J) A fic with Jake wearing that sport team top called "Roosters" (300)
K) A Transformers cross-over for help me yeagrave is 110% to blame for me adding this... (related to this post) (300) (+331) (+300)
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deadpresidents · 3 months
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Who are the youngest and oldest vice presidents
At the time of their Inauguration? Here's the list of the Vice Presidents' Age at Inauguration, from youngest-to-oldest:
AGE AT INAUGURATION: NAME OF VP [Administration] 36 years, 42 days: John C. Breckinridge [Buchanan] 40 years, 11 days: Richard Nixon [Eisenhower] 41 years, 353 days: Dan Quayle [G.H.W. Bush] 42 years, 128 days: Theodore Roosevelt [McKinley's 2nd VP] 42 years, 256 days: Daniel D. Tompkins [Monroe] 42 years, 352 days: John C. Calhoun [J.Q. Adams/Jackson's 1st VP] 44 years, 232 days: Al Gore [Clinton] 45 years, 26 days: Aaron Burr [Jefferson's 1st VP] 45 years, 346 days: Schuyler Colfax [Grant's 1st VP] 48 years, 243 days: Calvin Coolidge [Harding] 49 years, 15 days: Walter Mondale [Carter] 49 years, 56 days: Millard Fillmore [Taylor] 50 years, 72 days: Spiro Agnew [Nixon's 1st VP] 50 years, 98 days: Martin Van Buren [Jackson's 2nd VP] 50 years, 340 days: John Tyler [W.H. Harrison] 51 years, 150 days: Chester A. Arthur [Garfield] 51 years, 189 days: Hannibal Hamlin [Lincoln's 1st VP] 52 years, 105 days: Henry A. Wallace [FDR's 2nd VP] 52 years, 146 days: Lyndon B. Johnson [JFK] 52 years, 237 days: George M. Dallas [Polk] 52 years, 274 days: Garret A. Hobart [McKinley's 1st VP] 52 years, 297 days: Charles W. Fairbanks [T. Roosevelt] 53 years, 131 days: James S. Sherman [Taft] 53 years, 174 days: John Adams [Washington] 53 years, 238 days: Hubert H. Humphrey [LBJ] 53 years, 325 days: Thomas Jefferson [J. Adams] 56 years, 65 days: Andrew Johnson [Lincoln's 2nd VP] 56 years, 92 days: Kamala Harris [Biden] 56 years, 138 days: Richard M. Johnson [Van Buren] 56 years, 223 days: George H.W. Bush [Reagan] 57 years, 132 days: Adlai E. Stevenson [Cleveland's 2nd VP] 57 years, 227 days: Mike Pence [Trump] 57 years, 247 days: William A. Wheeler [Hayes] 58 years, 355 days: Thomas R. Marshall [Wilson] 59 years, 189 days: Charles G. Dawes [Coolidge] 59 years, 335 days: Dick Cheney [G.W. Bush] 60 years, 145 days: Gerald Ford [Nixon's 2nd VP] 60 years, 257 days: Harry S. Truman [FDR's 3rd VP] 61 years, 16 days: Henry Wilson [Grant's 2nd VP] 64 years, 102 days: John Nance Garner {FDR's 1st VP] 64 years, 292 days: Levi P. Morton [B. Harrison] 65 years, 178 days: Thomas A. Hendricks [Cleveland's 1st VP] 65 years, 221 days: George Clinton [Jefferson's 2nd/Madison's 1st] 66 years, 61 days: Joe Biden [Obama] 66 years, 165 days: Nelson Rockefeller [Ford] 66 years, 331 days: William R.D. King [Pierce] 68 years, 230 days: Elbridge Gerry [Madison's 2nd VP] 69 years, 38 days: Charles Curtis [Hoover] 71 years, 57 days: Alben W. Barkley [Truman]
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Together - Five Hargreeves x Reader
Summary: In Hotel Oblivion, trying to save the world once more, you can’t help but wonder what Five sees in you. Reader: can be read as any gender Warnings: Five and Reader are both around their early to mid-twenties. SPOILER for Season 3 Episode 10, blood, sorta gore (you’ve seen the episode, you know why), slight angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death (again, you’ve seen the season) Word count: 5 331 A/N: I’m kinda not happy with this… I feel like it’s lacking emotions. Maybe because I finished writing this at 3am, knowing I’d have to get up at 6am…Feedback is appreciated.
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You and Five had always had a difficult relationship, this much you were well aware off. He had torn you out of your completely normal, ordinary, boring life, only to drag you from apocalypse to apocalypse. Maybe you should hate him for it, should wish he had not. Because then, in this timeline, you never would have been born.
But now you were as much a paradox as the Umbrella Academy, only that you lacked any special powers. Unless making Five stick to your side like a puppy was a special power, of course, because ever since you had left Dallas, he would not leave your side. He had even insisted on sharing not only a room, but even the bed in the Obsidian. The first time you had tried to go to the bathroom, it had taken a lot of work convince him not to blink past the locked door. Still, you had been pretty certain that he had waited outside, nervously tapping his foot or fiddling around with one of his buttons.
If anyone else would have been as clingy as the undeniably genius but also equally undeniably mad hitman, you would have probably locked them in a broom closet by now, and thrown away the key.
But something about Five was different.
To the world he seemed like a snot-nosed young man, who believed he was better and more important than everyone else in the world. He seemed cold, calculating, manipulative. And maybe he was, to a certain level. But he loved nobody more than his family; he was ready to do everything for his family.
Except endanger you.
You had lost count on how many occasions he had thrown himself in the line of fire for you, had defended you against flying bullets and insults alike. When anyone else asked for an explanation to some crazy theory he had just blurted out, they were ignored, but whenever you asked, he patiently broke down his idea into humanly understandable phrases. What impressed you most about him though was how he was able to keep up with you, with your sarcasm and stupid jokes, how he was not fed up with you after five minutes, like most of the other people. He just rolled his eyes playfully, or even played into your sarcasm, making you laugh. These past days you had gotten the feeling he liked it when you laughed.
And so you grew more attached to him. It had only been a few weeks, but you had grown to like the strange man more than you had ever expected to like anyone, and it had taken seeing him die, the old version of him anyway, to realise you loved him. Well, maybe love was a strong word, but you were certain, given enough time, those feelings thrumming in your chest eventually would turn into love. Did you want to love him thought? Most certainly not. Not in the beginning at least, when you had thought someone like him could never even remotely understand the feeling of your heart beating faster at the mere thought of the other. But after Luther‘s wedding, when everyone had been dancing, he had grabbed your hand, and pulled you close. You could smell alcohol on his breath, but his eyes were clear, this thoughts not yet jumbled by the drug.
“No matter what happens in the next days,” he had whispered into the small space between you, “No matter what happens- I’ll always be by your side. Where you go, I go. I can’t lose you, not now that I found you.”
You had looked up at him then, into his crystal blue eyes, how he had watched your face at his words, and for a moment you had thought he would kiss you, had hoped he would kiss you. But then he had wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into his chest, hugging you tightly.
Still, ever since then you could not quite shake the thought that maybe, maybe, if the world wasn’t ending, if you weren’t frantically running down corridor after corridor, maybe then Five and you might have had some strange, weird sort of future together. But you had taken your eyes off him for one second, and suddenly you had been alone in one of the hotel rooms in Hotel Oblivion. As if that hotel itself was not weird enough already. A hotel in another dimension while your world, your universe, had been destroyed by the Kugelblitz.
Your feet were hurting from running, your lungs burning from your frantic, paniced breathing, and your throat begun to dry from your calls for any of the superheroes, when you pushed past a door, and suddenly ended back up in the foyer.
“Five!” Relief flooded you as you spotted him standing with his siblings, and he spun around alarmed at the call, only to visibly relax when he recognised you.
“(Y/n),” he breathed, meeting you halfway towards the group. You wanted to hug him, glad to have found him again, but something stopped you. Something always stopped you from showing your full range of emotions to him, perhaps the fear of rejection.
“One moment you where there and the next-”
“I know, I’m so sorry,” he interrupted you, making you perk up. He hardly ever apologized without being sarcastic, yet here he was. “I didn’t think- it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry for scaring you, and I’m glad you’re okay.” It was more like he was taking to himself, as his eyes quickly flickered over your body, checking for any injuries, before meeting your eyes again. “No more strolling off alone, from neither of us, okay?”
You nodded tight lipped, and watched him hold out his right hand to you. Confused you looked between his hand and his eyes questioningly, making him roll his eyes and take your left hand in his right one.
“If we don’t let go of one another, we can’t lose each other again,” he explained, his voice a pitch higher than usual. “So we’re holding hands until all of this is over, capiche?”
“Hey,” you protested as Five turned back to his family, and began dragging you along with him, his fingers somewhat cold and clammy around yours. “I don’t need anyone to hold hands with me, I’m no three years old.”
“Well, what a shame, because I don’t care,” Five announced over his shoulder, before the two of your joined the others, where Klaus was just explaining about how Reginald Hargreeves had killed him and Luther.
The moment the old man entered the foyer, you could feel Five stiffen up, taking a slight step forwards, so you were behind him. It was not the first time he did this, in fact, over the past days, whenever danger had arisen he had always taken a protective step in front of you. The gesture made your heart flutter, even though you were well aware, that this was neither the time nor the place for it. And yet… him being so protective over you meant more to you than you could have put into words.
But now, as the old man and Five’s siblings were fighting, your eyes wandered to one of the stars on the floor, right in front of Five. These stars on the floor had irritated you from the beginning on. They were only here, in the Hotel Oblivion, but had not been in the Hotel Obsidian, even though everything else had been mostly the same (not counting the bison’s behind and the paintings and writing). And they were only here, in the entrance hall, nowhere else in the building. They were not evenly distributed either. Actually there were only… what? A hand full, maybe half a dozen of them.
You blinked in confusion, your eyes skipping over the tiles, counting. Quickly you tucked at Five’s hand, his fingers wrapped around yours still.
“The floor,” you whispered over the argument of the others.
He did not have to turn around to know what you were referring to, but from the way he moved his head to look through the room, you knew he was counting the stars as well.
Without warning he turned around, and dragged you across the foyer towards the stairs, while the others were still fighting with Reginald Hargreeves.
“The stars,” he explained on his way up the stairs, “They form a pattern, you’re right. I want to see if it matches-”
“The sigil?”
He nodded, guiding you over to the balustrade, so you could see into the foyer. Both of you scanned the dimly lit room for the markers, trying to remember the pattern from the sigil. It was not hard, not for you at least. The image had burnt itself into your memory when Five had cut the piece of skin out of his dead future self. A shiver ran down your spine while you tried to match the pattern on the floor to that in your memory. Since the moment the old man had died, you had been terrified. The thought, that Five would die like this… not the fact that he died, but the How. For how long had he been in that bunker? Had he been all alone? Had he been scared and worried for his younger self? He had commented on how young you had looked. Had you spent a lot of time together, grown old together? All you knew was that you could not stand the idea of your Five meeting the same fate, that you would do everything you could to keep him from dying such a lonely death. Oh, how furious you had been when you had found out he had gotten the same tattoo as the one he had cut out of his own skin. Now you needed to somehow prevent him from losing his arm, and from founding the Commission. Both felt like fighting against windmills. On the other hand, the universe had been destroyed, so maybe this future of his had been successfully prevented, since all of you would die a lot earlier than that.
“Hey, I found the sigil,” Five shouted to his siblings who were still fighting with their adoptive father.
You snapped out of your thoughts, and pointed to the stars at the ground.
“It’s on the-”
You got interrupted by the sound of breaking glass, and alarmed both Five and you spun to your left, where one of the Guardians, who the others had mentioned before, broke through the glass ceiling.
Immediately your body was on fight or flight mode, and you felt Five tuck you away from where the Guardian was in free fall, pushing himself between you and the danger.
It was the flash of metal, there one second and gone the next, faster than you could have perceived, when Five suddenly cried out and stumbled to the floor. You felt his blood before you saw it in the dim light, so much blood, warm and sticky, coating your hands at an alarming rate as Five’s right hand slipped from your grip and he slumped against you. In terror you glanced down at him, at the source of so much blood, and found that where his left arm had been mere split seconds ago, only a stump was left.
The picture of the old Five in the bunker flickered before your eyes, how he had been missing his left arm, and you tasted sick on your tongue, not only from the thought of how painful it had to be to lose a limp or the smell of blood, but also from the realisation that you were one step closer to losing Five to that dark future.
Before another sound had left Five’s lips, you had quickly dragged him against the balustrade, and begun reaching for your belt. You needed to tie off the big blood vessels in his arm, so he would not bleed out. At the same time Five fumbled for his tie, thinking the same thing as you. Realising his tie was easier to access, you quickly loosened it, and pulled it over his head. His eyes were wide, sweat beginning to coat his forehead from the pain.
“I got you,” you mumbled, ignoring the sounds of a fight going on downstairs. Doubtlessly the Hargreeves were taking care of the last Guardian. Or the Guardian of them, by the sounds of it. But truth be told, you could not care less about that. All that mattered was the way blood continued spurting from Five’s wound and how desperately he looked up at you as you were kneeling in front of him. “I got you,” you repeated, tying the tie around what was left of his arm, and pulling it as tightly as possible. Five groaned in pain, making another wave of sickness spread through your stomach, but you ignored it.
“Tighter,” he whimpered. “It needs to be tighter.”
“Okay,” you nodded, while grabbing the blood slippery fabric as safely between your hands as possible. “This’ll hurt.”
You looked down at him, unable to keep the pity out of your gaze. You knew Five hated to be pitied, but still-
The way he looked up at you almost knocked all breath out of you. His eyes were soft, sad, and you had never seen anyone look at you with so much trust as he did in that moment.
“Maybe,” he began, blinking his blue eyes as if in a slight daze, “Maybe I should tell you that I-”
You did not let him finish whatever he had planned on saying. Instead you pulled the tie as tightly as possible, making Five scream out in pain, but at least the blood flow from his arm began ceasing.
“Tell me once we’ve saved the world,” you mumbled, pressing your forehead against his quickly in a gesture of comfort. His skin was cold from sweat.
“The others-” he mumbled out, and you nodded in understanding, quickly getting up. The Guardian was on the floor, but so were most of the Hargreeves.
“The sigil is on the lobby floor,” you shouted to them, while helping Five up, who rested his weight against the balustrade.
“It’s the stars,” he added.
Immediately Reginald began ordering around the others, and while you and Five watched them scurry around, one after the other finding a star on the floor to stand on. As soon as one of them was positioned, the stars underneath their feet began glowing and clicking, while the sound of a motor all around you began picking up. Confused you looked around, trying to locate the source of the sound, but it seemed to come from everywhere at once.
“Number Five, quickly!”
Only when Reginald Hargreeves shouted for him, did you notice Five had left your side and moved to the bottom of the staircase. So much for never leaving each other’s side again, huh? Quickly you moved down the stairs, rushing to him, while he exchanged looks with Alison across the room. To your left, the Guardian that somehow had recovered from the previous attack, began roaring again, as it stormed towards the others. Before you could say something, before you could reach for him, Five had begun moving, blinking himself onto the last empty star right in the middle. The moment the touched it, bright blue flashes zapped between all seven heroes and the Guardian, so blinding that you had to cover your eyes. But with covered eyes it was all the more easier to hear the agonised screams of the Hargreeve siblings and Lila. And then the flashes died down.
Quickly you looked up, finding the seven seemed to be stuck in place, lights, like spotlights in a theatre, shining down on every single one of them. A look to the side revealed the Guardian to have fallen apart, hundreds of cockroaches streaming from an empty armour.
All of a sudden, the noises around you picked up again, clicking and buzzing, like those of a huge machine, in which’s centre you found yourselves. A strangled sound from Five made you snap your attention back to the seven people in the lights. Five’s head was leant back, his arms slightly spread, and what you could see from his face he looked pained.
“Five?” Jumping down the last steps of the staircase you hurried over to the seven, but did not dare touching any of them. “What’s happening,” you asked nobody in particular, before you turned to Reginald Hargreeves. “Hey, old man! What’s happening?”
But the man did not seem to take notice of you, of your panic strained voice, as the foyer around you began to change. What had seemed like solid matter, walls, floor, doors, windows, stairs and columns, dissolved into nothingness, leaving only faint lines of light where edges had been before. The only thing that was left was the floor with the stars and a part of the reception, which began to look increasingly like a control panel. Reginald walked over to the panel, a blue half-sphere appearing over him, displaying numbers and equations in a writing you could not read. But he seemed to be able to, because he began tapping around on them, shifting them.
A particularly loud gasp from Five tore your attention away from Reginald, and back to the young man you had grown so close to. In the white light you could, all too clearly, make out the pale tone of his skin. Not just pale, white, bordering grey. His eyes were wide, only strained gasps leaving his lips, but it was obvious in how much pain he was. You watched as his cheeks fell in, while Alison began arguing with Reginald. Second by second he began resembling a starving person more than the healthy man he had been minutes ago, as if the life itself was being drained from his body.
A ping from Hargreeve’s panel, and suddenly the groaning of the in the lights trapped increased to muffled scream of pain. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you were well aware of the tears that had begun falling from your eyes, as you helplessly repeated Five’s name over and over again. You knew you could not touch the light which trapped Five. What would happen if you did? There was no way of telling. But it could end tragically. And you were no hero. You were just- you. What grand things had you ever done in your life? Nothing worth mentioning, apart maybe from the most stupid thing which had been following Five out of your house one sunny morning three apocalypses ago and then falling in love with him.
“Please,” you pleaded, addressing Alison, or the old Hargreeves or anyone else who might be able to do something now. “Please, stop this. Please.”
Instead you had to watch as little glimmers of light began separating themselves from Five’s skin, and drifted upwards towards the invisible source of the spotlight that kept him trapped. More and more he looked like a days old corpse, but still he began talking, his eyes focused on Alison.
“He killed Luther,” he pressed out, “He tried to kill Klaus. He won’t stop before we’re all dead.”
You could not muffle the sob that slipped from your lips, as your knees gave out.
“’s gonna be alright,” Five mumbled, before a pained groan shut him up again, but you knew he had been talking to you. You wanted to punch him, wanted to mock him. How could things be alright after this? You had no way to stop whatever his deranged adoptive father was doing to him and his siblings. You did not know how to fight, had no weapon to either-
Unless…
Your eyes flickered across the room, searching for one of Diego’s knives, or one of the weapons the Guardian might have dropped. But the moment you spotted the sickle, Alison already picked it up. Frozen, you watched as she approached her adoptive father, and brought the weapon down on his head. The moment Reginald Hargreeves’ knees gave out, the lights suddenly died down, releasing its captives, and next to you Five collapsed on the ground.
“Five,” you gasped out, and quickly gathered him in your arms, pulling you into your lap. His skin was grey, stretching over easily visible bones. His eyes were dull, as if he were 200 years old, and his right hand weakly wrapped into your shirt, holding onto you as tightly as his weak state allowed.
“Hey, hey, I got you,” you whispered, reminding yourself that you had told him these words just minutes prior, when he had lost his arm. “I’m right here, I got you.” Carefully you brushed a strand of his jet black hair out of his eyes, your fingertips grazing his skin slightly. It felt so odd, so cold, so dead.
“Alison,” Five had turned his head towards where Alison had stepped over the corpse of the old Hargreeves into the centre of the panel, her hand hovering over a red button that had appeared on the screen. “Alison, don’t touch that button. We don’t know what it does!”
Viktor too was screaming for Alison to stop, even strong enough to have gotten up already and summoning his powers in the form of a blinding blue light. Would the fighting ever stop?
“Don’t do this,” Viktor warned, his fists lifted to his chest, ready to attack.
“Do you trust me,” Alison asked, holding Viktor’s gaze, who slowly let his arms down and the light dimmed until it had disappeared completely.
“Viktor, what are you doing,” Five asked, beginning roll out of where you had lifted him to rest his head in your lap. “Stop her.”
“If there’s one thing I know about big red buttons, it’s that – no matter how tempting they are – they should not be pressed,” you reminded Alison, slowly getting up from your spot on the floor, while the others joined Five’s plea not to press the button. But still she turned away from her the others and you, slowly bringing her hand down on the button.
You felt Five reach for you, and then everything got drowned in white.
~*~
Slowly an elevator door opened, revealing the middle of a small park, in what sounded like the centre of a big city, judging by the noise of traffic. Warm fingers were wrapped around yours, and when you looked up, you found Five looking down on you. His jaw was tightened, as if he expected to walk from Apocalypse Number 3 directly into Apocalypse Number 4. You felt his fingers carefully tighten around yours, and you adjusted your hand so you could do the same, while the others slowly began leaving the elevator. Five and you followed them.
In the middle of the small crossing of six paths stood a bust. Curiously you strolled over, Five in tow, to read the plate that was attached below it.
“Obsidian Memorial Park, Graciously donated by Sir Reginald Hargreeves, this first day of October 1989,” you read out in a whisper. Five’s fingers tightened around yours.
While you were still around, a commotion started up in front of the elevator, and you suddenly spotted Luther, alive and well, visible for all of you and not just Klaus, standing in front of it. He enthusiastically hugged Victor, lifting him up, as all the others too watched in astonishment. As Luther and everyone else realised he had the normal body of a well-trained man now, instead of that of an ape, you felt Five move at your side, and turned to look at him, your breath catching in your throat as you saw how he was holding out his left arm in front of his body.
“I got my arm back,” he marvelled, turning his hand in the dim light of the park.
Again you felt tears well up in your eyes, but this time out of pure relief. Five had his arm back, which meant that there was still time to prevent the future you had seen for him.
“I got my arm back,” he repeated, turning to you, a bright smile on his face which in itself made your breath hitch. And then he let go of your hand, gathering you up in his arms instead, lifting you so your feet were in the air, and twirled you around, giggling into your neck, while you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and laughed. You laughed like you had not laughed in weeks, not caring about what his siblings might think. Truthfully, right now you did not care what anyone was thinking. The only thing that mattered was that Five was with you, and he was alive and uninjured and seemingly healthy. You could deal with all the endings of the world in the universe if he was by your side.
When Five put you down again, both of you slightly out of breath the atmosphere around you had cooled down harshly. Luther was looking for Sloane, and Alison seemed to be missing too. That definitely put a damper on the whole ‘we’re still alive and somehow prevented the apocalypse’-situation.
“Hey,” suddenly Luther came storming over to you and Five, harshly grabbing him by the collar of his jacket. “I don’t care about any resets, alright?” You protested, grabbing Luther’s wrist in warning, trying to tuck him away from Five. “I want my wife back, Five. Where is she?”
“I’m glad you’re alive, but please take your hand off me,” Five answered Luther a lot calmer than you were.
At that Luther grabbed Five’s collar with both hands, pulling him closer threateningly.
“Luther, that’s enough,” you tried interfering but Luther ignored you entirely.
“Not until you give me an answer,” he snarled at Five.
“Okay, screw this,” Five decided, lifting his hands in order to blink out, but nothing happened. No blue light signalling the opening of a portal, nothing. “Something’s wrong.”
Immediately panic swept into his eyes, which landed on you, as if to search for help while you watched with baited breath.
“That’s right, something’s wrong,” Luther growled, “You’re about to get your ass kicked.”
“No, you moron, my power,” Five rolled his eyes, looking up at his brother. “I can’t blink.”
At that Luther let go of Five, who quickly straightened out his jacket before turning to you. You only half noticed how the other siblings tried summoning their powers but failed miserably, as Five grabbed your hand in his again.
Slowly the group began splitting up; Luther running off to find Sloane, Klaus following him. Diego and Lila, left holding hands, and Viktor too sighed, and slowly strode off, no clear idea where to go.
Which left Five and you, holding hands in the middle of a park at night. Slowly you looked at him, the question of what you should do now dying on your lips, as you saw the absentminded gaze with which he was scrutinizing you.
“The thing I was about to say before...” he trailed of as if he expected you to remember.
“What thing?”
“The thing I was about to say before you rudely interrupted me by cutting off all blood supply to my arm-”
“Oh, you mean where I saved you from bleeding you,” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him challengingly.
Five rolled his eyes at you.
“You’re insufferable, you know that,” he asked with a sigh, before his piercing blue eyes met yours again.
“Yet here you are, holding my hand,” you pointed out.
Five glanced down to your joined hands hanging in the space between you, gently running his thumb over the back of your hand.
Not looking back up at you, he continued.
“Anyway, as I was about to say- not matter how many apocalypses we have to face in the future… I want you to know that I will do absolutely anything to make sure you are safe. I dragged you into this mess; I am the one who needs to make sure you are safe. And I don’t care what it coasts me.”
“But I do, Five,” you shook your head, trying to get him to look at you, but his eyes were fixed on your hands. “I care what it costs you, and you can’t risk your life, or limbs or- you can’t put yourself at risk for me.”
“Why not?”
“’cause you’re special, Five. The world needs you, needs the Umbrella Academy-”
“Not anymore,” he shrugged. “I lost my powers and, you know, I think maybe that’s a good thing, for once. Maybe, maybe we can just stay here, you know, the two of us. In this world. Screw the apocalypse, the end of the universe… we could just… stay here. Stay together.”
It took a moment for the words to settle in, and confused you blinked.
“Wouldn’t… wouldn’t you grow tired of me,” you asked carefully, not sure if you understood correctly what Five was implying.
“You know I could never grow tired of you,” he denied, finally looking at you again. “I thought I knew the range of human emotions, thought I knew what- what love is, but these past weeks… you-” He exhaled, and shook his head. “Truth is, I don’t care which world or which apocalypse I have to live in, as long as it’s with you. Does that sound stupid?”
You laughed quietly, and took a step closer to Five, reaching your free hand up to cup his face. Immediately he snuggled into you touch, his eyes fluttering closed. His skin was warm now, a lot warmer than just a few minutes ago when the machine had sucked the life out of him.
“It does,” you told him. “I at least prefer this world-” you paused to signal him you were referring to your surroundings, “to the apocalypse world you described to me.”
Five nodded.
“I get that,” he agreed.
“Hey, Five,” you called quietly. Slowly his eyes opened again. “Can I kiss you?”
For a moment his eyes widened in shock, before he surprised you by leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours in a desperate but gentle kiss. His lips were hot and soft, smooth as they pressed to yours. He let go of your hand, which he had still been holding, wrapping the arm around your waist instead, while he brought the other up to your neck, carefully holding you in place. Your hand was still on his face, the other propped against his chest, feeling the fast beating of his heart under your palm. Five kissed you like he was drowning and you were the only thing that kept him alive. And maybe that was partially true. After Luther’s wedding he had told you that he would continue fighting if you asked him to, that the only reason he would stop this apocalypse, would be to save you, if you wanted that. You had told him there was no way to save the world, and that you would rather spend the last few hours with him than trying to chase a solution that did not exist. But there you were now. In a new world, a new universe even, your hand wrapped into the front of his dress shirt, his fingers massaging small figures into your neck as his lips connected to yours over and over again.
When the kiss eventually broke, Five wrapped both of his arms around you, and lifted you in the air again, twirling you around once more. His face was buried in your neck, your nose pressed into his short, black hair. And when he set you down again, both of you dizzy from the spinning, he gently cupped your jaw.
“Where ever we go from here on out,” he whispered, “we go together.”
His blue eyes were blazing with passion, making your breath hitch, and you nodded, pressing your forehead against his.
“Together,” you promised.
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glacierruler · 1 month
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Divide Codes
Making the Future masterpost
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Taglist: @cutebisexualmess and @duck-in-a-spaceship
General Overarching Code
The equal sign is not a part of the code, it is just a means to simplify things. The first sign is supposed to look like a traditional division symbol.
*/. = divide from the kingdom / a divide is located there
<> = messengers needed / meeting between allies
< = sentries/robotic check in the next few days
> = traitor suspected
+ = check in went fine / traitor is gone
- = this faction of the divide has been caught. RUN
[ = new members, not tested, tread carefully
] = new members, limited testing, tread carefully
[ ] = new members, fully tested and trusted
From Withing the Shadows Codes
/ = guard checks / checkpoint
\ = abandoned spot
| = go to meeting place B or C
x = we’re being watched
% = we’ve been found out HIDE
Letters to Numbers:
A = 113     H = 132    O = 213     V = 311
B = 212     I = 222     P = 333     W = 312
C = 131     J = 332     Q = 123      X = 223
D = 111     K = 122     R = 231     Y = 221
E = 321     L = 331     S = 313     Z = 233
F = 232     M = 323     T = 112
G = 211     N =133     U = 121
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ariesgamesandminis · 14 days
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Restocks are up from Iron Wind Metals for BattleTech!
10-043 Support Lance 20-331 Mad Cat III 20-351 Targe TRG-1N 20-396 Avatar AV1-O Prime 20-410 Malak C-MK-O Invictus 20-412 Grigori C-GRG-O Invictus 20-413 Archangel C-ANG-O Invictus 20-420 Behemoth II Tank 20-425 Shiro SH-P 20-5018 Karhu KHU-R1 20-5019 Kestrel VTOL 20-5022 Blade BLD-XL 20-5122 Tenshi TN-10-O Prime 20-5127 Flashman FLS-8K Resculpt 20-5153 Uziel UZL-2S 20-5181 Jupiter 3 20-600RE Vulture "Mad Dog" Prime 20-710 Transgressor Fighter TR-13 20-753 Schrek PPC Carrier (2) 20-800 Hex Bases (4) 20-804 Crab CRB-27 20-809 Mauler MAL-1R 20-816 Vedette Tank (2) 20-895 Exterminator EXT-4D 20-935 Axman AXM-2N 20-938 Mars Assault Vehicle (Standard) 20-994 Marauder MAD-5L 99-201 Large Flat Top Hex Base #1 AC-003 Hover Base BT-004 Afreet Battle Armor BT-005 Grenadier Battle Armor BT-008 Void Battle Armor BT-066 Scout ATV BT-125 Star Lord Jumpship BT-239 Jump Support Infantry BT-240 SpecOps Paratrooper BT-244 Heavy Infantry - Standing BT-245 Heavy Infantry - Firing BT-292 Shiro SH-2P BT-293 Hitotsume Kozo HKZ-1P BT-366 Hover Scout Drones BT-371 Davion Infantry (3) BT-372 Savannah Master Hovercraft BT-427 Balac Strike VTOL (Standard) & (LRM) BT-436 Buraq (Standard) Battle Armor CE-003 No-Dachi 3X OP-026 Loki H LRM 15 OP-044 Black Hawk C / Ryoken D Right Arm OP-118 Marauder MAD-3D, 5S, and 5T Gun Sprue 20-373D Dasher "Fire Moth" Prime Missile Launcher and Skirt Sprue 20-5189C Catapult CPLT-C3 / C5 Arm Sprue 20-741A J-27 Tow Vehicle Tractor Body 20-741B J-27 Tow Vehicle Trailer Body 20-959LTA Templar Left Arm 20-959RTA Templar Right Arm
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hplovecraftmuseum · 11 months
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H.P. Lovecraft has received quite a bit of criticism for telling his short-time wife, Sonia Greene Lovecraft, that he had signed and filed the couple's final divorce papers when he hadn't. HPL had some very unpopular and in fact repellant ideas by the progressive standards of today. Stll, regarding the lie he told about the filing: 1920s New England was still a place steeped in ideals of morality and proper behavior - perhaps beyond anywhere else in the rest of America. We have no way of knowing if the couple ever discussed the possibility of divorce before their marriage, but from what I know of Lovecraft I tend to doubt it. Greene has generated a considerable amount of sympathy for all that she must have endured as Lovecraft's wife. The failure to finalize the divorce decree seems on the face of it cowardly and unforgivable. Perhaps because divorce is so very common today we have forgotten the fact that marriage is a legal and binding contract. Marriage is a promise beyond mere words. When Greene demanded a legal divorce, Lovecraft asked if they could instead remain married but live seperate lives. He actually suggested that the pair could continue communication as man and wife by mail! Sonia was not having it. Obviously she wanted to keep her options open and might have been actively searching for a new mate? So, who threw down the gauntlet first? Who broke their promises first? Before we are too very critical of H. P. Lovecraft in all of this we might want to consider his side for a moment. For Lovecraft, born and raised to consider honor, loyalty to Yankee tradition and the importance of proper behavior for a gentleman of Old New England, divorce was a disgrace beyond imagination. "For better or worse, for richer or poorer." Such words once held weight and substance. Today they are virtually meaningless. (Exhibit 331)
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