#but! it does show a brief side of street kids

[hows-my-handwriting]

had a revelation last night

so i watched cruella for the first time and it hit me. that takes place in 1970 something London.

you know what else takes place in 1970 something London?

:o)

(im now using Cruella's set as reference for landmarks and technology markers for earth 138 and no one can stop me)

#atsv #hobie brown #spiderpunk #earth 138 #im. my brain is melting #if only id seen this movie sooner #and its also a good idea of what was being printed in gossip magazines #its not a huge teller of what it was like back then unless you're specifically talking about the fashion industry #but! it does show a brief side of street kids #idk if jasper and horace really count but its certainly somehting #i mostly am looking at the cars and the electricity wiring

[notfreetoday]

The Importance of Amae in My Personal Weatherman

Masterlist || Language Analysis Part 1

I have seen a lot of discourse in the English-speaking fandom surrounding Segasaki's apparent dismissal or trivializing of Yoh's desire to pursue his manga, and most of it is negative. His comments about wanting Yoh to remain dependent on him, or that Yoh does not need to earn money are seen as patronizing or controlling at best and oppressive at worst. It appears that Segasaki does not understand nor respect Yoh's need for independence, and that is what strains their relationship.

But what if I asked you to consider that Segasaki's behaviour is actually an invitation to Yoh to reinforce their relationship? And what if I told you that Yoh's withdrawal from Segasaki constitutes a rejection of that invitation, and it is that rejection that strains their relationship instead?

Of course, the end result is the same - a strained relationship - and in reality there is never one side wholly responsible for this. The point of this is to simply challenge the cultural notion that a successful relationship is the coming together of two equally independent individuals, as opposed to the co-creation of a relationship formed by two interdependent individuals.

"If only you could stay drunk forever..." "It's okay to feel down again for me too you know" - Segasaki, Ep 4, Ep 5

This isn't about Segasaki wanting to keep Yoh is helpless and dependent on him, but about wanting Yoh to be able to be true to his feelings and express his own desire for affection honestly, without having to hide behind "I hate you" or rejection.

Or, let's try and talk about how Segasaki and Yoh reinforce their relationship through the use of amae (featuring a brief mention of tatemae/honne) who am I kidding this is not brief at all

First: Cultural Context

The way people conceptualize and make meaning of the Self differs between Western and East Asian cultures, and this plays into the differences we see in the basis for our self-esteem, the personal attributes that we value, and even what constitutes the behavior of a mature individual. Broadly speaking, Western cultures tend towards the Independent Self Construal (whereby the Self is a distinct entity separate from others) whereas East Asian cultures tend towards Interdependent Self-Construal (whereby the Self is connected to and defined by relationships with others). Thus, in the West, expressing one's individuality is very important for one's self-esteem, and being able to communicate clearly and confidently is valued and a sign of maturity. Conversely, in the East, one's ability to integrate and become a member of the group is prized, and contributes significantly to one's self esteem. In order to be seen as a mature individual, one must learn not only to read a social situation but also how to modify one's behavior in order to respond to the changing demands of that situation, with the ultimate goal being to maintain group harmony.

tl;dr - In East Asian culture, behaviors and attitudes that emphasize interdependence and promote group harmony actually play a big role in reinforcing relationships and one's membership towards the group.

Segasaki is an expert at this - his "public mode" that Yoh refers to actually shows us how good he is at social interactions. This is the Japanese concept of tatemae/honne (crudely translated as public self/private feelings) - which I could link to a bunch of articles for you, but I'm going to suggest you check out this 9 min street interview instead. At 6:41, one of the interviewees comments that another is sunao, or "honest" (we'll cover this later too) and at 6:49 specifically talks about how reading situations is important as an adult. Segasaki reads the room well, but most importantly, he reads Yoh well.

Yoh is not good at this, at all. In Ep 6, we see that he does not integrate well with the group, and he doesn't realize how he might appear to others when he stares and sketches from afar. Yoh does not read the room well because he doesn't pick up on social cues and does not adhere to social norms (I'll point these out in Ep 6's corrections). He cannot read Segasaki, and especially cannot read Segasaki's amae, or his attempts at reinforcing their relationship. Part of this is because his low self-esteem causes him to withdraw from Segasaki's affection as a means of self-protection, and so he valiantly tries to deny his feelings for Segasaki. As Man-san commented in Ep 4, Yoh is not sunao - he has difficulty with being true/honest about his feelings, even to himself.

Sunao is another term that usually pops up when talking about feelings/relationships. It can be used to describe one's relationship with oneself, as well as the relationship with another/group. With oneself, it is usually used to mean "being honest/truthful/straightforward/frank/open-minded about one's feelings". With another person/group, it is usually used to mean "to cooperate/listen/be obedient, or "to be humble/open-minded". In essence, the word encompasses an ideal virtue that is often taught from early childhood - that we should treat both ourselves and others with humility and honesty, because that is how we accept ourselves and stay in harmony with other. This is what becoming an adult, or gaining maturity, means (not gaining independence, as adulthood is often equated to in the West - do you see a running theme here 😂). Of course, that's actually really hard to do, so you'll often hear children (and immature adults too) chided for "not being sunao" (this can therefore sound patronizing if you're not careful). We'll revisit this in a little bit.

Second: What is Amae?

Amae is a key component in Japanese relationships, both intimate and non-intimate. It happens every day, in a variety of different interactions, between a variety of different people. But it is often seen as strange or weird, and those unfamiliar with the concept can feel uncomfortable with it. This stems from the difference in self-construal - because independence is tied so strongly to an individual's self-image in the West, it is very hard to fathom why behavior that emphasizes interdependence could be looked upon favorably. It is telling that every possible English translation of the word "amae" carries a negative connotation, when in Japanese it can be both negative or positive. The original subtitles translated it as "clingy", for example. Other common translations include "dependence", "to act like a child/infant", "to act helpless", "to act spoiled", "coquettish", "seeking indulgence", "being naive" etc.

From A Multifaceted View of the Concept of Amae: Reconsidering the Indigenous Japanese Concept of Relatedness by Kazuko Y Behrens

*Note - the word "presumed" or "presumption" or "expectation" or "assumption" used in the above definition and in the rest of this post, can give the impression that all of amae is premeditated, which adds a calculative component to this concept. Whilst amae can indeed be used in a manipulative manner (benign or otherwise), it is not the case for every single situation, and often amae that seeks affection is often spontaneous and without thought, precisely because the situation allows for it to appear organically. This is the amae that Segasaki and Yoh most often exchange - so think of these assumptions and expectations as "unconscious/subconscious" thought processes.

Third: Amae Between Segasaki and Yoh

Yoh shows a lot of amae when he is drunk:

He whines, buries himself into Segasaki's embrace, refuses to move or let go of him, and keeps repeating "no". In these interactions, Yoh wants Segasaki's affection, but instead of asking, he does, well, this, and he presumes that Segasaki will indulge his behavior. Leaving to get some fresh air might not be as obvious - but it is a form of amae as well, because Man-san is his guest, not Segasaki's, and he shouldn't be leaving Segasaki to entertain her. The expectation that this is okay, and that neither of them will fault him for it, is what makes it amae.

Segasaki obviously enjoys indulging Yoh when Yoh does amae, because he recognises this as Yoh's request for affection from him. It's not that Segasaki enjoys Yoh in this drunk, helpless state; it's not even that Segasaki feels reassured by Yoh's requests for affection. Segasaki knows Yoh likes him, and recognizes that Yoh is struggling with those feelings. That Yoh is actually able to do amae to Segasaki is what delights him the most, because it is something that requires a lot of trust in Segasaki and a willingness to be vulnerable in front of him. This is how amae reinforces relationships - when a request for amae is granted, both the giver and the receiver experience pleasant feelings.

That said, an amae request can also be perceived negatively - if amae is excessive, or if the person responding feels they are obligated to do so. In Ep 5, Man-san chides Yoh for his amae - the fact that he expected to do well from the beginning, and became upset when he failed. He told her about his unemployment, presuming that she would comfort him, but alas.

Segasaki also does amae - but unfortunately Yoh misses many of his cues, and so neither of them really gain pleasant feelings from the interaction (ok so maybe Segasaki does, but I will argue that is more because Segasaki also enjoys it when Yoh obeys him - see @lutawolf's posts for the D/s perspective on this!).

Did you catch it? Segasaki wants Yoh to pass him the Soy Sauce, which, clearly, he is capable of getting himself. He tells Yoh to feed him, because he wants Yoh's affection. And the real kicker - he asked for curry, and expected Yoh to know he wanted pork. In all these interactions, Segasaki presumes that Yoh will indulge him and do for him things he can do himself perfectly well (and even better at that) - this is what makes this amae. But look at Yoh's reactions:

Yoh just stares between the Soy Sauce and Segasaki, between Segasaki and his food, and then just at Segasaki himself. He doesn't recognise any of this as amae, and in the case of feeding Segasaki makes the conclusion that this is somehow a new slave duty he's acquired. And therefore, he does not gain pleasant feelings from it.

In Ep 3 we see a turning point in Yoh's behaviour - his first (sober) attempt at amae (the argument in Ep 2 is debatable - it's not amae from Yoh's POV, but Segasaki responds as if it were, with a head pat and a "when you get drunk, you talk a lot don't you?").

Here, Yoh wants to express his desire for Segasaki's affection, but he can't bring himself to say it aloud. Instead, he dumps bedsheets on Segasaki's lap, as if the bigger the scene he makes the greater the intensity of his desire he can convey. It is the presumption that Segasaki will understand him that makes this amae. And then, we get this:

Not only a happy Segasaki and a sweetly shy Yoh, but also a Yoh who's emboldened by Segasaki's response, and who finally, for the first time, reciprocates touch, and considers the possibility that Segasaki might actually like him.

With every episode, Yoh gets more and more comfortable with doing amae towards Segasaki, because Segasaki picks up on his cues and always responds to them. In Ep 5, Yoh's amae comes out naturally, triggered by the stress of his unemployment, and we see it in all those moments he sounds and acts like a child, and as I mentioned, Segasaki spends the whole episode reassuring Yoh that his amae is welcomed, and that Segasaki likes responding to it. If you've been wondering why the relationship between Segasaki and Yoh can, at times, feel somewhat parental in nature - this is it. It's because Segasaki sees the contradiction between Yoh's childlike insistence that he does not like Segasaki and his desire for Segasaki's attention and affection, for what it really is - Yoh's struggle with accepting himself. When Yoh is able to be sunao, he does amae naturally, and Segasaki responds to him in kind.

Now, all we need is for Yoh to recognize when Segasaki does amae, which will likely happen soon, given that Yoh has grown with every episode.

As always, thank you for reading :))

#my personal weatherman #taikan yohou #体感予報 #segasaki x yoh #MPW language analysis #sociolinguistics #japanese language #japanese cultural tidbits #mytranslations #MPW subtitle corrections #my meta is creeping into my sub corrections #need to get it out here instead #sorry for the length #tbh posting such crazy long posts and expecting that people will actually read it #can be considered amae too 🤣🤣 #Ep 6 corrections will be out next #I just needed to get this out before 7 #and i sorta made it

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Matilda- B.Barnes

Summary: Bucky finally realizes the alarming way his wife was treated by her family.

Pairings: Husband!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Fic Warnings: Mentions of reader thinking she isn’t good enough, mistreatment of reader, Bucky being a good husband, Fem!reader, use of Y/N

Author’s Note: This is a slight AU, the Sokovia Accords never happened, Infinity War and Endgame never happened. Nat, Tony and Steve are very much still around(but they aren’t mentioned). If you have any feedback please feel free to leave it. I’m not feeling great about this but I’m trying to get back into writing. This is based off of Matilda by Harry Styles.

My full Masterlist

Hope you enjoy! :)

Word Count: 960

gif not mine

How Bucky never realized that his wife was mistreated as a child, is beyond him. It was like the neglect was staring him right in the face but he never realized it, never noticed the pain behind her eyes. She never really spoke about her family and if she did it was very brief and vague. He finally started to notice when they were holding a house party, their kids were there, their friends, really everyone they knew. Bucky had reached out to the very little living family he had, his great niece Winnie was more than willing to come, she was the only living family he had.

The night before the party, Bucky had asked if she had invited her family and he finally noticed the sadness that flashed in her eyes. Because this was going to be a serious conversation, Bucky was quick to usher the kids to bed so that they could discuss her family alone, without the fear of upsetting their kids. Their son, Stevie was quick to get into bed, only settling when Bucky planted a kiss on his forehead, and their daughter, Sarah, was a little more fussy but once Bucky gave her a warning look, she quickly settled before getting a forehead kiss as well.

After Bucky was sure the kids were okay and asleep, he went back to the living room where he left his wife. She was sitting on the edge of their bay window, staring out at the street even though it was dark out. He walked closer to the window, making his steps more pronounced than he usually does so he doesn’t scare her. Once he got to the window, he sat across from Y/N, who had a vacant look in her eyes. The same eyes that were always sparkling with love and happiness, now held sadness and desperation.

“You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” Bucky asked her, voice quiet and cautious. They sat in silence for a few minutes before she started speaking.

“I was never good enough for them, no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. I had a 4.0 gpa in high school but it wasn’t good enough, I could’ve had a 5.0 if I took AP classes. I don’t think they ever showed up to anything. It never bothered me before, it wasn’t a big deal but once we had the kids, it hurt. It hurt because they never showed me the love we show our kids. I wasn’t loved as a child, never nurtured, never cared for.” It was silent again for another minute, Bucky was still trying to process what she had just said before she added more. “I’m not even sorry for not inviting them, I’m just sorry that I left so early, I was only 16 when I moved out. I just want to understand why they didn’t show me love. I feel like there’s a piece of me, of my soul, that’s just dead because of my childhood and how I was treated.”

Bucky beckoned her closer to him so she inched her way closer to her husband. Even though they were touching, it wasn’t enough for Bucky, so he pulled her onto his lap. Her legs on either side of his hips, her arms around his shoulders, hands mindlessly playing with his hair. He grabbed her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger making her look into his eye.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Even if they never showed you love, you created it. Right here, in this house, in your soul. I love you with every single fiber of my being and I can assure you Stevie and Sarah do too. You make this house a home, you make our family a loving one. You are the most important part of my life. It is all you, Y/N. Who cares that you didn’t get a 5.0? I am so incredibly proud of you and the person you have become in the years we’ve been together. Now, let’s go make some tea and your favorite nighttime snack and talk more. That sound okay?” She nodded to her husband, but not before kissing his lips lovingly. In response, he peppered kisses all over her face until he heard his favorite sound in the world, her laugh. “My favorite sound,” He chuckled before continuing his assault.

By the time the two had separated, had tea and a nighttime snack, Bucky was completely filled in on her childhood. Now he understood why she went above and beyond for their family, now he knew why she was so gentle with the kids. It all made sense to him, but now he knew to take his time loving his wife, showing her the love that she never got as a kid, the love she completely deserved. The two of them ended up falling asleep on the couch that night, talking until they were too tired to go to their room.

The next morning it was as if a boulder was lifted off of her shoulders. Y/N had a pep in her step, the sparkle in her eyes was back, her smile was wider than it had been since their wedding day and the birth of their troublesome twins. Bucky was happy to show her the love she deserved. Their friends became the family she deserved. She now happily said she had a very loving family, that was always there for her and she was always there for them. She had let her biological family go and chose her found family, that found family was her forever family. People that would kill for her and people that she would kill for, and Bucky couldn’t be happier.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #husband!bucky #husband!bucky x wife!reader #husband!bucky barnes #marvel #bucky x reader fluff #the winter soldier #white wolf #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader fluff #bucky barnes x y/n fluff #husband!bucky barnes x wife!y/n #Spotify

[jonglo]

Hi💕 can i request a headcanon with Sehun just boyfriend things

Thanks

hi!! omg i've been wanting to do hc but i didn't know on who. also sorry it took awhile work has been beating my ass..

Sehun as your boyfriend !

Warnings: brief nsfw?? not explicit

where do I even start LMAOOO

I feel like he's the silent love type at the beginning but as the relationship continues he just can't contain it

like shy and just wanting to be near you to playful bickers and being a complete brat

he makes sure to get his way when asking you for anything.

but he will literally fold and do anything for you if you asked

the type to say no and do it anyway just to keep the "image"

you also turn into his target audience

anything to make you laugh

if hes with the members and they don't laugh at his joke. he will be telling you the story in full context just to end with the joke.

you also turn into his hitting target for when he laughs at his own jokes.

honestly i think he's the type to leave "i love you" for more intimate moments

like his texts always end with a care message rather an ily

if it's cold? "make sure to layer up"

if it's hot? "make sure to bring water"

traveling long distance? "be safe, tell me when you get there"

now this doesn't mean he doesn't say ily, its just he feels it shows more sincerity in person.

in person he definitely ends every sentence with i love you

it slips off the tongue always.

"you know i love you, right?" everyday

no literally, everyday.

so everyone knows he doesn't like sleeping alone... get ready for that.

hes always whining asking for you to come over and go to sleep with him

literally every night that you two aren't already together hes spam texting you.

you always end up coming over.

if you play with his hair while he sleeps, you are his soulmate.

omg and little pecks on his face

he's obsessed

as for dates

i feel like he prefers more of a "lets sit and make each other laugh" type of date.

or maybe just a casual lunch where you two just catch up on more intimate parts of your life.

just wants to show you everything

you are literally his personal hype person

oml god forbid you don't pay attention to him when he shows you something

the type to fake his own demise at that very second

if he shows you a picture of him, you have to thank him for giving you a chance to see his beauty while kissing his feet.

just kidding LMAOOO

he just wants you to acknowledge the picture and maybe call him the sexiest man alive thats all! not so hard!

i think the only arguments would be from misread sarcasm from his side that causes major miscommunication.

after the first fight he does explain himself more often.

he just doesn't separate play from seriousness sometimes.

like if you show him a new outfit or hairstyle he will just say ew

out of habit of course

but truly he thinks you are the best looking person ever, just second to him of course

he actually shows you off all the time

on a schedule, everyone knows each and every outfit you had on for the last year.

everyone.

the type to send you pictures of anything and everything.

pictures of the road.

"what am i looking at" "street" "nice"

kind of like his instagram.

literally mid conversation too just pics of a empty cup.

say omg wow and you can continue the conversation.

now as far as nsfw...

ill leave it at power bottom

and mirrors.

mirrors every single time.

thats all

if you want i can do a nsfw part two

but overall he's a shelled lover. you just gotta push him out and he will love and worship every single part of you.

he wont admit it but he thinks you are the number one most beautiful person on earth. before him, of course.

#exo #exo writing #exo x reader #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo scenarios #exo sehun #oh sehun #sehun x reader #sehun #sehun x you #sehun imagine #exo headcanons #lo reqs

[fastestmanalive333]

Do you have a unique “origin” about Chris Kent? (Or “rewrites” like not aging him up, sending him back to the phantom zone in Last Son) or is everything the same like the comics?

Oh btw, I like that Chris drawing (the one with Superman on the side) very cool! Giving Chris a booty huh? XD

his sacrifice is important to his character, like he has a lot of interesting lore as his own personal character that goes beyond just being Clark and lois' kid so I wanted to sort of explore that more.. they are with him much longer tho a good 5-6 years they raise him for.. until zods attack in metropolis happens so its not a brief minute... but we get to see them grow a bit, clark and lois arent married yet theyre engaged.. but he really ends up bringing them closer together, makes them think about their future together and helps and she does see him for all intents and purposes as her son and he's still very, very close to her so his sacrifice is intact but it happens much later so it hits much harder and it happens the same time death in the family happens.. so he fends for himself stuck there for years and comes back in new krypton a year after jason returns as the red hood.. bruce and clark both felt loss around the same time and he helps bruce track joker down, bruce and clark take awhile and talk about how they both lost their sons.. they talk about how rough that year was for both of them.. and they grow to be better friends i wanted to add emotional beats, there's certain aspects that do make a character unique in their own way.. chris isnt like jon at all despite the comparisons i see a lot.. unlike jon there's similarities but he isn't jon.. people calling him prototype jon is tiring like he is more then just a cute kid, he isnt the next superman or superboy hes his own character with his own alias, mythos, and could very much stand on his own i feel, and he opens the door to the more mythical side of the superman mythos which as a vertigo fan and a huge fan of Peter David's supergirl I'm a sucker for.. hes shyer less outgoing then jon too... so hes reslly not gonna feel like him in any way.. so its steering away from the comparisons and keeping everything the same.. so trying to keep them and playing around is fun.. Clark and Lois do raise chris around the same time bruce raises jason so they interact a few times during that time.. jason died saving his mother, chris went back in the phantom zone to save the world... for he was keeping it open.. thara still finds him breaks him free times past, and he reunites with Clark, Lois.. and Jason's in a darker place.. the reunions are longer.. and there's a lot more emphasis on them.. seeing he came back after being gone for years.. jason wandered the streets practically a vegetable, until talia found him and threw him into the Lazarus pit... he cut ties with everyone he was alone... Chris was alone too.. but they dealt with it in different ways.. New Krypton happens.. the world's finest team up tho would probably be a reunion with jay instead of tim.. bit of a loss cause I enjoyed the little interaction... but.. it does open stuff up more and it works better in the context of the story.

Chris: "Jay"

Jason: "I know they call you nightwing but you don't look like one I've ever met.. how do you know my name?

Chris: *takes helmet off* we met once

*flashback*

Superman: robin this is chris.. Chris meet Robin

Young Jason: sup I'm jay.. you can call me toddster, big jay you name it!

Young Chris: toddster?

Young Jason: just a nickname.. cmon lemme show you around the five star hotel watch out for the cliff there's spiders..

Young Chris: *looks down* ...

Young Jason: *walks behind him arms crossed* BOO!

Young Chris: AHHHH!! *nearly falls*

Young Chris: woahh there hotshot *catches him by the tie of his school uniform* wouldn't want you falling now would we?

*present*

Jason: ...*eyes widen* ..Chris?

And yeah that's it, Clark, Lois, held on to pictures of Chris even after they got married.. despite all the struggles they end up happy together again, and Chris he helps Jason open up again so yeah that's his story mostly unchanged stuffs different here and there but it goes to the same points and beats but stretches it out to what I feel makes him a stronger character at the end of the day

#chris kent #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #thara ak var #flamebird #nightwing and flamebird #superman

[mhsdatgo]

Why you don't like the ship of harwin and rhaenyra? He is the only man in her lifes who treat her kindly and show actual love. All the other, like viserys criston daemon ecc, treat her like shit

Hello, anon. I agree with you about every single man in her life treating Rhaenyra horribly but Harwin is no different.

He's her sworn shield after Criston is called by Alicent's side, her supposed "champion". But the show gave us so little about him that I literally cannot, for the life of me, grasp the love this man gets. All we get of him is that he's basically a glorified boytoy, what Criston would've been had he put Rhaenyra before his honour.

From the books, we know that several sisters of his are Rhae's ladies-in-waiting, his father is the Hand when Otto leaves for a brief period of time and he's generally at court for long before Rhaenyra marries. This makes Harwin the man who watched her grow up, GROW UP. She was a KID when he started buzzing around her or her court.

The first time they interact in the show, it's when Harwin gives her that (nothing short of disgusting other than impressed imo) when she's back to the camp with a boar during Aegon's name day, the second is a year later when he tackles her in the streets, mistaking her for a boy when she's out with Daemon. He lets her go when he spots him. Timeskip happens, we learn that they're lovers and they have three kids together.

Where's the buildup?????? Where's the reason for me to love them as a couple or him as Rhae's partner???? Must we assume he started getting the hots for her when he saw her drenched in blood in that camp? SHE WAS F*CKING 16!

Also, let's not pretend he did anything to help besides warming her bed and making her a mother of 3 before she hit 25. He knew there were rumors, he was pretty much aware of what people thought and what he, Rhae and their kids were risking. Guess what he did about it? Absolutely f*cking nothing.

He didn't marry, he didn't go back to Harrenhall, he acted defensive when his father brought the question up.

Viserys and Alicent sending him away was what it took for him to finally back away from this girl. After, obviously, screwing everything up astronomically. You can go after Criston's bitterness all you want, you can call him jealous (honestly I don't think he is, but that's for another post). But his reaction in the fields is nothing short of ridiculous imo.

What did Criston say? That he was protecting Luke like a father would rather than a trainer. A provocation, a comment that should've flew right in and out of Harwin's ears, if he was as honourable as the fandom makes him out to be. He could've said that it doesn't take being the child's father to notice how callously he's treating him. It could've turned into a meme-worth scene of two men absolutely hating each other's guts but seething right from their asses about not being able to just leap and tear at each other for all they're worth.

What would be wrong? Being called his son's father, great heavens. He could've just went "oh shit" and could've walked away after making sure baby Luke was okay, but what did he did? He handed Criston's ass to him, which was exactly what he wanted.

This man viewed that comment as disrespect to his honor, a stain in his pride. Because being pointed out as a rumored ( not really rumored to him, he knows he is, which just makes it worse) bastard's father is DISGRACEFUL to him. He knows EXACTLY what Rhaenyra, the heir, risks, and does nothing but worsen her position further. If he cared about those kids, or if he was just deluding himself into playing happy family with her, I can't say.

I don't think he hates them, mind you. I'm not here to dehumanize him. They're his own flesh and blood, he loves them, he wishes to love them and be in his life like a father should. I think it's (rightfully) a pain in the ass watching another man raise your children. He could've done it to protect Luke, but it's not his job to remind Criston that insinuating that Rhaenyra has sired bastards is treason. That outburst was unnecessary, at least to me. It did nothing but worsen everything. Knowing Alicent, and how she made Criston apologize for calling Rhae a c*nt with a simple glare, SHE'D scold that rascal good the moment she hears of it.

Harwin would hold back, at the very least, if he actually lived up to TB's standards. For Rhae, Jace, Luke and Joff's sake. I'm not going to act like Rhae is innocent but fuck anyone who thinks she's the only one at fault. She was barely an adult when they started interacting.

BONUS:

*chef's kiss* Unforgettable. As if being from a lower class is the only bad thing there is about the dude you were beating to a pulp just three seconds ago. Although that's less about Harwin and Rhae and more about Harwin but whatever.

#hotd #hotd discussion #hotd discourse #team green #anti harwin strong #anti rhaewin #anon #asks

[gamma-rae-bursts]

Ethan

You comfort Alex while she finally opens up about her son

Pairing: Alex Blake x Fem!Reader

CW: mentions of death, loss of a child, typical CM case descriptions, reader insert, includes canon dialogue

Genre: Mild Angst

Word Count: 1400+

A/N: This is a slightly different one. I felt like the topic of Ethan should have been explored more in the show, he deserved more than just a brief mention in the last episode ;-; The first part is heavily inspired by season 9 episode 8 "To Bear Witness".

This case was a weird one. A young man was found in wandering the streets of Baltimore. The John Doe was transported to the hospital where it was discovered that the poor man had been lobotomized. Unfortunately, by the time the team got there another woman was kidnapped. The whole team got to work the case was solved in a heartbeat. Fortunately, the woman was alive, but not unharmed, a lobotomy was performed on her too. The perpetrator, who turned out to be a brother of the last victim, was arrested. As the team found out, the motivation for his actions was envy. He was envious of his sister’s achievements in medical school and in his twisted mind lobotomising her was the appropriate solution. Following the arrest, you and Alex were transporting the unsub. The car ride was quiet, filled with uncomfortable but completely justified tension between the two of you and the German man.

“Do you have kids?” Anton spoke up aiming his question at you.

“No.” you replied to the man as you glanced at the linguist sitting at the other side of him, all you hoped for was that that same question wouldn’t fall from his mouth again aimed at the other agent.

“Do you?” the man turned his gaze to Alex.

“No.” Alex snarled and immediately turned her head away from the unsub sitting next to her, now looking out of the window of the car, carefully observing the surroundings. You knew this question brought her back to the period of her life she didn’t share with many people. Minutes had passed and nobody dared to break the silence in the vehicle, it felt like eternity by the time you reached your destination.

***

You and the team were now back in Quantico, getting ready to leave the building and get some well-deserved rest. Most of the agents have already left, you and Alex being the only ones left in the bullpen, and Hotch, of course, in his office.

“Hey.” you said softly as you walked in the brunette woman’s direction “are you okay? I saw you switch in the car ride back when the unsub asked about...”

“I’m fine.” Alex interrupted you and you looked up at her, now meeting her eyes. You knew the woman all too well not to notice the pain in them that she tried to mask it with her soft smile. “Ready to go home?”

“Yeah, of course.” you smiled at the woman and reached for her hand. You knew better than to push Alex to talk. Despite being an excellent linguist who valued clear communication above most things, she often couldn’t find words to express what she felt in those moments. She would come to you when she was ready. The two of you walked together towards the elevator glad to finally have the evening to yourselves.

“I can’t wait to do some crosswords tonight.” the linguist stated with a smile on her lips and you giggled in response, gently squeezing her hand.

The atmosphere in the car ride home was quiet and you didn’t want to be the one breaking the silence. Not for any other reason than giving Alex space to collect her thoughts. It wasn’t long after that you were opening the door of your shared apartment.

“Shall we order some food? I really don’t feel like cooking tonight.” you turned around to look at your girlfriend that was now taking her shoes and coat off.

“Yeah, can do.” the older woman said with a sad grimace, which was followed by a deep sigh.

“How about I draw you a nice bath so you can relax? We can order the food afterwards.” you said softly as you walked towards the brunette, gently wrapping your arms around her waist. You felt Alex tense for a second, but shortly after she allowed herself to melt in your embrace, not letting her eyes wander away from yours.

“That would be lovely.” the woman breathed and pressed a soft kiss on your lips.

“I’ll be right back then” you whispered back and placed a kiss on Alex’s cheek. You then headed towards the bathroom to start preparing a bath for your girlfriend, adding in some of her favourite rose-scented bath salt and lighting up the candles that were standing on your bathroom counter. When the bath was ready you called for Alex, unsure whether she’d like you there with her or prefer to spend the time by herself. When the woman got there and you were about to leave, much to your relief she asked you to stay there with her. Alex got rid of her clothes and proceeded to make herself comfortable in the bathtub and you took your place sitting on the hardwood floor right next to it. There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you before Alex decided to break it.

“I still miss him.” the woman whispered in a barely audible tone, a stray tear falling down her cheek.

She didn’t talk about Ethan much, if at all. Her explanation as to why was that it’s easier to try and push the feelings back than face them, which you’ve come to accept as something that you couldn’t change about Alex. She never wanted to risk falling apart in front of anyone, even herself. But this time felt different.

“I know darling.” you said in a soft, quiet voice, gently brushing her hair behind her ear “Would you like to tell me more about him?” you added, looking straight into her dark brown eyes, giving her a gentle smile. As you continued playing with her hair, Alex let out a deep sigh simultaneously breaking the eye contact the two of you held.

“Yes, I would really like that actually” the agent whispered and chuckled gently “I think you two would have gotten along you know, that little traitor was significantly more interested in sciences than anything to do with literature and linguistics.”

You let out a giggle, squeezing Alex’s hand, as you started speaking “If that was the case, I think we would have gotten along perfectly.”

“Definitely.” she laughed “I think he would have been so much like Spencer. He was so bright, way above any of his friends. I actually considered moving him a grade up, but James convinced me that he would be better off amongst kids his own age.” Alex went on as she continued holding your hand, now drawing small circles on it. “You know, when I look at Spencer, I think about what Ethan could have been, the great things he never got the chance to do…”

You carefully listened as Alex told you everything and anything about her son. From his very early childhood you learned that he was an unusually quiet baby and with that he shocked everyone. His favourite food was, unsurprisingly for a 9-year-old, very cheesy pizza. He would spend his free time in his room, learning how to put together different chemical structures with the “Little Chemist Kit” he got from Alex’s brother, Scott. Ethan loved animals and always made sure to pet every cat and dog he passed. Although he exceeded in school, he hated PE, which made you laugh considering how similar the little boy was to a certain genius.

As the time went on the water in the bath got colder and colder, that’s when Alex decided it was time to get out. You prepared some clean pyjamas for her and proceeded to order some takeout for the two of you as she got herself dressed.

The conversation went on throughout the whole evening, Alex made sure to tell you every little detail that made Ethan so special, every aspect of him that she could recall. All the happy memories they made throughout his 9 years, not focusing on the sad part too much. She pulled out old photographs showing Ethan at various stages of his life, no matter the situation he always had a smile on his face. You listened to everything she had to say, immediately seeing the soothing effect this had on her. The burden of holding all her emotions in leaving her body every second as she continued speaking, all the negativities being replaced by a deep sense of relief. She knew she was safe with you, that she could open up and for the first time in her life, she allowed that to happen.

#Alex Blake x Reader #alex blake #criminal minds #Ethan Blake #reader insert #criminal minds fic #bau team #criminal minds angst #angst #mild angst #criminal minds fandom #cm fanfic #fluff #spencer reid

[canary-song]

Thinking about PI Parker.

(many paragraphs long rant below the cut, basically all one massive headcanon)

Thinking about how there's very little actual public perception of him, beyond maybe very brief mentions in newspapers discussing criminal cases (often he's cut altogether from larger publications stories - he's marked eventually as one of those investigator/journalists that's Definitely contacted The Spiderman, which makes aknowledging him dangerous business. different rant.)

Thinking about police always tending to side-eye him whenever he shows his face because he's the son of a very well known (at least in her area) outspoken socialist protester, and he always tends to treat the police back with this Only What Is Necessary respect on-job - it's evident he doesn't like them, and he's definitely May's kid.

He has a criminal record from his youth, has had (mostly verbal) spats with cops, and has some odd coincidences surrounding showing up at crime scenes before they go public - but there's never enough to get him off their backs, even if there's this big sign over his head that reads TROUBLE.

That's all he is to them. He's trouble. They roll their eyes whenever he shows up, until they stop looking at him altogether if they can help it.

But the downtrodden like Peter? They know to go to him, over time. It's not like he quite did this on purpose, but he's kind to them, and he listens when nobody else really would. He takes cases from people that don't have money, don't have recognition, aren't really considered all that important by police - the ne'er-do-wells.

They go to him, he listens, and he does his best. Really, at first, it's just an extension of his nightshift as Spiderman, so it feels natural. They give information and he hunts down the wrongdoers, the untouchable. And then, one day, he's telling the kid that wandered off the street to his door that was trying to get out of the rain, that it's ok, there's space inside. The poor kid will catch their death in a winter like this, and he can't be having that.

The poor boy lost his father in a car accident, he says. It isn't fair, he insists. The only reason nothing was done was because the one driving had more money than his family surely ever owned in generations. He offers them soup. Maybe he sees himself in them. Maybe he tries to tell the kid they're not alone - because nobody is, if you're willing to open the door.

It happens again, with an older lady that he briefly saw rooming at the Bowery Center, and she has a story, yes, something he can help with, but part of him doesn't feel that matters nearly as much as keeping her from catching frostbite.

He walks her to the Bowery Center, once again, the one place in the city he feels he could find blind - which, considering his glasses fog up in weather like this, he might as well be. She compliments his coat, and he asks her if she sewed that scarf herself. She smiles. It's the first time she has in a while.

Because he's Urich's kid in the sense that the Spider never died, not truly. He's Urich's kid in that he's the apprentice and what Urich could have been. Sometimes he catches himself worrying that that doesn't overlap with what May would have wanted of him.

There's distance between him and May, in that sense, that he doesn't talk about. Distance he can't bare to get into. He doesn't want her to see him as she saw Spiderman. He doesn't want to lose her, even while he's burning the bridge himself.

But, see, I think, perhaps he's blind to that he's still so often like her.

You better bet she's getting stories sent her way of what he's up to, for whenever he helps them find their way to the Center. It breaks her heart a little that he doesn't talk with her more often, but she's happy to see him opening up, little by little, to help people again.

One day down the line, she gathers paint, gets her calligraphy books out, and marches down to his apartment.

She knocks, because it's only polite to, and then promptly tells him that his door looks all the damn same as everyone elses, which, really Peter, that can't do. We need your name on it, at least. How can I find you otherwise? How can anyone! Really, Peter, let me help you with this, at least. No, you can't turn me down, I walked all this way and I'm not going back until we get this fixed.

#noir posting #blogcat: writing #spiderman noir #spidernoir #drags just the Saddest tragedy-ridden guy out of the mud. makes him a symbol of hope #there's a whole Backstory here about various reporters contacting Spiderman when they know that talking about it with anyone else would get- #-killed but that's a different post entirely.

[nightingaleflow]

An Affliction of Mist

This is for the Hidden Shinobi Hideout Holiday exchange! My gift was for @yamanaka-shin. Merry Christmas to you and Tasogare, and I hope you have a wonderful and creative new year!

Summary: The first time Tasogare enters Kirigakure, it doesn't treat him so well. Luckily, Mangetsu is there to take care of him.

~Mangetsu x Tasogare (OC) ~Other characters: Suigetsu ~Rating: T ~Sickness/feeling unwell, brief themes of exclusion, mentions of violence ~Word Count: 1813

Tasogare’s eyes grew huge as he passed through the gates of Kirigakure. Hoshigakure, the village where he’d grown up, was a secluded village hidden away in the Land of Bears. It was a beautiful village, surrounded by thick forests and vast mountains, but it was barely large enough to contain its growing population. Kirigakure was a whole different beast. Even through the thick mists that gave the village its name, Tasogare could make out the outlines of towering buildings in every direction, with streets winding and twisting in between. Everything was awash in shades of blue and grey, as if he was stepping into the ocean itself and not into one of the biggest villages in the world.

Mangetsu drew alongside Tasogare, smiling. “Welcome to Kirigakure,” he said. “What do you think?”

Tasogare cleared his throat. “Not bad.”

Mangetsu laughed. “That’s it?”

Tasogare shrugged. “I’ve seen better.”

“Where?” Mangetsu asked, leaning over. “Do tell, I’m dying to know.”

Tasogare cleared his throat again as he tried to think of an answer. A minute later, he just shrugged and kept walking.

“I knew you were pulling my leg.” Mangetsu shook his head. “Come on. My place is this way.” His voice grew quieter. “And stay close to me.”

Tasogare nodded as he shifted closer.

Mangetsu led him down the winding streets, heading for the other side of the village. Along the way, several villagers bowed their heads to Mangetsu and offered warm greetings, though their eyes always shifted in suspicion to Tasogare immediately after. Tasogare itched to demand what they were looking at, but Mangetsu always looked back and shook his head, so Tasogare held his tongue.

They finally arrived at a sprawling estate on the opposite side of the village. Tall, white and blue walls stood three meters high, a circular gate inscribed with the Hozuki name the only way in. Just past the gate was a massive courtyard decorated with fountains and ponds. The buildings inside were all round, ranging from one to two stories high, and white as pearls with blue stone roofs.

Mangetsu led Tasogare into the central building. “I’m home!” he called as they walked through the door.

“It’s about time you got back.” A young boy with white hair stuck his head into the hallway, his head barely taller than the doorknob. As soon as he saw Tasogare, his expression became hostile. “Who’s this?”

“This is Tasogare,” Mangetsu replied. “Tasogare, this is my little brother, Suigetsu.”

Suigetsu glared at him. “Why are you bringing a stranger into our house?” he hissed. “He could be here to steal the Swords!”

Tasogare laughed. “You aren’t entirely wrong, kid.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Mangetsu put a hand up to interject. “I met Tasogare because he tried to steal Hiramekarei from me.”

Suigetsu turned scarlet with rage. “You what?”

“It was a cool sword and I wanted it,” Tasogare replied with a shrug. “You can’t blame me for that.”

Mangetsu laughed. “No, I suppose I can’t. There’s a reason I chose it in the first place.”

Suigetsu shook his head. “You’re being way too casual with someone who tried to steal one of our Swords,” he said. “Are you under a genjutsu? Is that it?”

“No, no genjutsu,” Mangetsu replied. “Tasogare happened to come along right before a band of Konoha-nin jumped me. I probably would have lost had he not been there. So after we won, I offered him a place to stay for a bit.”

Suigetsu tutted. “You’re too soft, brother.”

“And you’re too rigid,” Mangetsu countered. “Come on, Tasogare, let me show you the guest room.” Tasogare started to follow, then Mangetsu added, “And put that stone back.”

Tasogare rolled his eyes, but pulled the shiny blue stone out of his pocket and put it back on the table.

The guest room had the same white and blue color scheme as the rest of the house. White walls, blue lamps, white sheets on the bed with blue pillows. Tasogare sat his bag down on the dresser and stretched. “Thanks again for this,” he said. “I can’t remember the last time I got to sleep in an actual bed.”

“Don’t mention it.” Mangetsu leaned against the doorframe. “Feel free to rest for a bit. I’ll get started on dinner. Are you allergic to anything?”

Tasogare shook his head. “Before you go.”

“Hm?”

“What was with all those people out in the village?”

Mangetsu sighed. “People here are very…” He looked out the window, past the swirling mist into the heart of the village. “Set in their ways, I suppose. They’re very proud of their Kiri heritage and traditions, and anyone or anything different isn’t welcome.”

“So, me.”

Mangetsu nodded. “That’s why I told you to stick close. Since I’m one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, even the most spiteful old crones give me respect. And, since you were with me, the most they could do is glare, then grumble about you in private.”

“Got it,” Tasogare said. “I guess a sunset stroll through the village is out of the question.”

Mangetsu grinned. “If you really want to see the village, I can take you out in a bit. The sunsets are beautiful this time of year.”

“Ok, it’s a date.” Tasogare flopped onto the bed. “But later.”

“Sure,” Mangetsu said as he closed the door. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

~

When Tasogare opened his eyes the next morning, his first thought was how beautiful the sunrise was. Shimmering over the ocean, the rising sun bathed the village in shimmering yellow and pink, contrasting beautifully with the blue ocean. It was like watching a painting come to life before his eyes.

His next thought was how much his throat hurt.

He tried to clear his throat, but that only made it worse. He shut his eyes and tried to swallow, groaning as pain shot through his neck into the rest of his body. As he pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed, he became aware of how much he was sweating, his skin feeling like it was on fire.

Downstairs, he could already smell someone cooking breakfast, so he trudged down the stairs trying not to whimper. 

“Good morning,” Mangetsu’s friendly voice floated up from the kitchen. He stuck his head into the hall. “Tasogare? Are you all right?”

“I dunno,” Tasogare replied. “I feel terrible.”

Mangetsu frowned, then brushed back Tasogare’s hair before pressing his hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up,” he said.

“I can tell,” Tasogare said, slumping forward and landing in Mangetsu’s arms. “You’re comfy.”

Mangetsu sighed, then scooped Tasogare into his arms and carried him into the living room. He laid Tasogare on the couch, adjusting one of the pillows under his head, then covered him with a blanket. Tasogare smiled bitterly. “Thanks, but you were comfier than the sofa.”

Mangetsu snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind. For now, you just stay there. I’ll make you some soup.”

Tasogare sighed. “I just don’t get it. I never get sick.” His eyes darted to the hall. “Maybe your brother did something to me.”

Mangetsu shook his head. “No. Suigetsu may not like you, but he prefers to settle things with swords. I think you’re just having trouble adjusting to Kiri’s climate. It’s pretty different from the Land of Bears.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Mangetsu disappeared into the kitchen, and the sounds of clanging pots and stirring ladles began again. Tasogare laid back, rolling onto his stomach, then onto his back when that proved to be uncomfortable. He coughed intermittently, wishing he’d thought to ask for some water. He then felt someone watching him. He turned his head to see Suigetsu peeking at him from the hallway with a scowl on his face. 

“Morning, kid,” Tasogare said, giving him a mocking salute.

“You’re still here,” Suigetsu said.

“Yep, sure am.” Tasogare paused to clear his throat. “Your brother was so nice I thought I’d crash here a bit longer. Get some more use out of that fancy shower upstairs.”

“I don’t know what you did to my brother,” Suigetsu cut in. “But I don’t like it.” He pointed at Tasogare. “Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down right now.”

“Besides the fact that it would stain the couch?”

Suigetsu glared at him.

“Because your brother is right behind you, and I don’t think he’d be too thrilled about you doing that.”

Suigetsu let out a startled noise and jumped. But when he turned around, no one was there. Tasogare snickered as Suigetsu let out an annoyed sound. “That wasn’t funny!”

“Yeah, it was,” Tasogare said.

“Suigetsu, are you bothering our guest?” Mangetsu called from the kitchen.

“No!” Suigetsu said.

“Funny, because it sure sounds like it.” Mangetsu appeared, brandishing a spoon. “You should get going anyway. You’ll be late for the Academy.”

Suigetsu let out a noise of protest, but Mangetsu ignored him, gently guiding him out of the house. Then he reappeared in the living room. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Just a few more minutes on the soup. Did you need anything else?”

“A million ryo?” Tasogare suggested.

“I’m afraid I don’t have that,” Mangetsu said, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Well, damn,” Tasogare replied. “I guess some water then.”

“That, I do have.”

A few minutes later, Mangetsu set a glass of water on the table next to Tasogare. Tasogare sipped at the water, sighing with relief as it soothed his aching throat. “Appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Mangetsu said.

Tasogare smirked as he picked up his soup. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Fine. Then mention it.”

Tasogare stuck his tongue out at him as Magentsu returned to the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later, he reappeared with a bowl of soup. Tasogare sniffed it cautiously, then took a sip. Strong salty and fishy flavors cut through his fog, causing him to gulp down more water. “What kind of soup is this?”

“It’s a basic fish stew,” Mangetsu replied. “It’s the best thing for colds and fevers.”

Tasogare nodded, then swallowed the rest as fast as he could, trying not to gag. “Thanks,” he said, gulping down more water.

“Not a fan?” Mangetsu asked.

“Let’s just say I’m gonna try really hard not to get sick again.” He grinned at Mangetsu. “I appreciate you making it for me.”

“It’s the least I can do after you saved my neck out there.” Mangetsu leaned back in his chair. “How long are you planning on staying in Kiri?”

“Eh, who knows?” Tasogare replied. “At least long enough to get over this.” He gestured to his face. “And then probably a few days after that.”

“All right,” Mangetsu said. “And you’re welcome to stay with me as long as you’re in the village.”

Tasogare lifted his cup in a toast. “I might just have to take you up on that.”

#nightingale writes #hidden shinobi hideout gift exchange #fic gift exchange #Mangetsu Hozuki x OC #Mangetsu x OC #oc talk #other people's ocs #my writing #fanfiction #writing #Naruto fanfiction #yamanaka-shin

[k-reviews]

QUICK THOUGHTS: AP ALCHEMY, J-HOPE, FIFTY FIFTY & MORE

2023 has kicked off to a roaring start thus far with a ton of releases, a lot of which I have been really enjoying! Just wanted to share some quick thoughts/reviews on some recent projects just to get them out there. Hope everyone has been having a good 2023 so far!

[ALBUM] AP Alchemy - Side A

8.5 out of 10

A restructuring of sorts, industry veteran Swings launches the AP Alchemy collective with a phenomenal showing on the crew’s first compilation album. With fresh faces that bring new-school energy, matched by the renewed hunger on staple names like Kid Milli, Blacknut and of course head honcho Swings. The production is incredibly detailed and highly curated, with a handful of standouts from Nochang and Saewoo. AP Alchemy make an enormous amount of noise on ‘Side A’, all of which is immaculately produced and performed. Front runner for rap album of 2023.

[ALBUM] Code Kunst - Remember Archive

5.0 out of 10

Code Kunst feels like he’s in two minds with his latest LP, on one hand trying to push a more chart-orientated sound while also building on his signature moody sound; in doing so he ends up doing neither with much finesse. ‘Remember Archive’ is largely bland, the softer production is missing the tailor-like touches of ‘Muggle Mansion’ and the rap features are often lackluster. The vocal guests do come through with a fair few memorable performances, but more often than not, the production feels like an imitation of Code Kunst’s own seminal works.

[ALBUM] Crucial Star & QM - Gold

7.0 out of 10

Teaming up on ‘Gold’ Crucial Star and QM concoct a lot of chemistry over the tightly produced EP. Crucial Star, after what feels like an eternity of dormancy as an artist feels fully rejuvenated spitting alongside the highly skilled QM. The production is modest, but rich in its subtlety as the two MCs continually drop highly polished verses.

[SINGLE] Bobby - Cherry Blossom

6.0 out of 10

Touting his most impressive and nuanced vocal performance yet, Bobby surprises with the delightful ‘Cherry Blossom’. The pretty lyrical motifs are driven by Bobby’s bittersweet performance and the warmly tinted pop/rock production. Though the verses are fantastic and the hook is catchy, the songwriting is a little repetitive and the empty lull that is the bridge slightly handicap an otherwise competent single.

[SINGLE] FIFTY FIFTY - Cupid

9.0 out of 10

Following up their excellent debut EP, Fifty Fifty’s latest single is every bit as exciting as their debut. The slick synth-pop production is immaculately mixed, with an arrangement that exudes luxury. ‘Cupid’ prides itself on the spectacular, personality-rich vocal performance from the members and its ridiculously infectious hook. ‘Cupid’ is about as good as pop gets - the fluid songwriting, vibrant performances and glittery production is all you could ever want.

[SINGLE] J-Hope - On The Street (feat. J. Cole)

6.5 out of 10

BTS bags yet another landmark crossover collaboration, this time J-Hope teaming up with one of his inspirations. The production is a touch too sanitized, but the groove is still hard to resist with the whistle lead. J-Hope’s contribution is brief, and while the hook does have a strong core, more could’ve been done to flesh it out. Cole’s verses is astute and technical, and he comes in towards the tail end with some nice harmonies closing out the track.

#ap alchemy #fifty fifty #code kunst #aomg #bobby #ikon #khiphop #kpop #j-hope #bts

[bluiex]

Part 3 of Children of The Night

Little snippet for day/night cycles in my world, they are based of the minutes that pass for every day and night in minecraft. There are 20min for a day and the same for a night. So adding that up, minecraft has 40hours in a full cycle. I the normal week cycle by a day to hopefully fill in the amount of time going by each year. I don't have a number for the days in a months or how many months there are. But there is 450 days in a year for them. You can sugest thing for this if you like.

‐-----------------

Grian and Scar are walking down a side road of The Central City, passing a book store, an old cartography shop Grian worked at, and a lovely little bakery. They can see Green helping a lovely blond woman, keep pace with people coming in at such odd hours of the night. Well it's not so odd when people and mobs alike live here. Mobs run the shops during night and people run them during the day. So that way some shops can be open 40/8 a week.

As they walked side by side, Grian refused to hold Scar's hand. As to why, is because when they had been out side the wall of the city, Scar put his cold hands up under Grian's sweater. So the two of them have a arguments over this, to fill what would have been silence. During this they walk past some skeletons rattling on about some failed attempt to make a famous map maker fall from fame. This stops Grian as he only got half of whats being said, he needs to brush up on the rattling pattern of skeletons. Scar noticed Grian stop to ask the skeleton what it is their talking about, with brief explanation of being a bit rusty to the patterns. One of the skeletons was happy to explain. Apparently the con-artists that have harassed Grian in the past had planned this to be the end of his career, but in the city, because of the redstone artisans. His name is well preserved as being one of the kindest, and most talented Cartographers to live. It won't take long of the damage to be corrected outside the city walls. Scar thanked the Skeletons for the information, with a sightly glowing eyes. One of the skeletons only bows and telling him it's their job to collect information and send it around.

Grian takes hold of Scar's hand to calm him down. Giving a smile to his tall loveable goof, he starts dragging him to a candy store near by and get some thing sweet. The taffies in the store look like the best treat to Grian, but for Scar, it looked to be the chocolates. Once they picked out and payed for their treats, only costing two gold total. They continue on down the street into a plaza with an interactive redstone art piece made by Mumbo Jumbo. The plaza also had a unique redstone water fountain play area for the kids. You could see a few Drowned, Zombie, and Husk kids playing in the fountain at this moment.

Scar watched the kids play with a smile. He did after all, feel really grateful to the leader of the city, for the kindness he shows to people and mobs alike. It had been rare before the city, to find mobs living in anytype of settlement. Any still outside the walls fight to survive, even if passive around people.

Grian had to bring Scar out of the clouds of thoughts to get back on track. "Well come back HotGuy, I was asking you if you wanted to sit for a moment to relax. Maybe have a treat." Grian teased, tacking a giggle to the end for effect. Scar blushes in response, and agrees to sit down. The bench they sit on it closest to the art piece so you can see the diamond plake with Mumbo's name.

Grian smiles at the piece remembering when it was being built. Grian decides to tell the story to Scar, seeing if he'd find it just as funny as Grian does. "I was there was this piece was built and boy was it a disaster of redstone dust and explotions. It even made Mumbo confused why it kept exploding when there was any tnt going into it. It took weeks for him to figure out there was way to much dust going to a few of the pistons making them go to fast and burst apart. I was a sight to see when it was finished with no more problems. I was also funny to try to kept up with the ladder jump staircase. Also the reason for that name, is because this piece is just a back a forth stair case going straight up instead of diagonal." Scar does laugh with a goofy grin spread wide across his face, at the idea of pistons exploding because extra redstone dust.

In the still moment after, Scar takes some taffy out of the bag full of sweet and hands it to Grian, who take it happily with a thank you slipping out mindlessly. Scar takes a piece of chocolate and savors to taste. While he does he notices Grian staring at him with a longing look on his face. It's a cute look to Scar, but question the other without words hoping he'll get an answer.

The answer he gets, isn't one he expected. Grian pulled Scar in to a kiss to lick chocolate out of his mouth and while also leaving him flustered. "Chocolate always tastes better when it from you partner~" Grian's teasing tone flustered Scar more then before, and got him covering his face. Earning a laugh from Grian who can't help love looking at a flustered Deity.

Once Scar has clamed down enough, he starts a little flirting war with Grian. As they continue to sit there, with quite a lot of teasing flirts. They hear someone clear their throat. Grian turns to look first, and finds his best friend standing in front of then with lots a bucket of slime to oil to piece behind him. He was glad to see Grian again though, hence why he cought his and the Brines attention. "It been a good while sense we've seen eachother hasn't it."

Grian jumps up and hugs Mumbo grinning like he just won a prize. Just to pull back and just start talking about the time he been outside the walls. Starting with a mishap that happened in a village, that burned down years after. To an event called "The Race of Destruction" where they see who can blow up a build the cleanest and fastest. Leading into how he met Scar. Ended it off with the con-artists attempt to sully his name.

Scar sitting on the bench almost falls off with how hard he's laugh. It wasn't the stories thay madenhim laugh so hard, even with how funny they are. It was the look of shock that is visible in the very way to stands. He even goes on to sputter out a few words before giving up on them. All while Grian is grinning like a mad man, whatching his best friend prosses everything he spoke of.

Once Mumbo got a single sentence out, it wasn't anything to do with what he had been told. It was about needing help oiling the old art piece so that can still be used for the next few years. Scar was the first to agree, wanting to get to know Mumbo so that it not so awkward to see eachother in the future. So for the next few hours Scar and Grian helped Mumbo out with his self-appointed task of maintaining his art piece. Before start to wonder again to the end portal under the city.

Their was a few more encounter they had with other redstone artisans, as some of them had been commissioned to do a new art piece in a few of the barer plazas. Just to name a few of the people they ran into, there is Etho, Impulse, Doc, and Iskall. Scar was suprised to meet Doc, a creeper hybrid, with world breaking redstone skills. Doc in return was just as suprise to meet one of his lords. They seemed to habe gotten along the best, even if their convesation was short.

‐------------------

I thought was going to be able to do more for our redstoner artisans, but as you can tell I only put some detail into Mumbo and even less into Doc.

But yeah these are the Redstone Artisans that kept Grian's name from being a bad omen. I will admit though that Scars eyes are still glowing as he's wait for Grian to pass out so he can put him to bed and sneak off to possibly torture some con-artists for their attempt to drag Grian from his grace.

I hope you enjoyed~♡

Oo I like the minecraft days/years being much longer, instead of min it's hrs

Heheh Grian such a tease, love this for them. YAY MUMBO. I love how they're artists, so cool

#bluie gets an ask poggers #scarian au #scarian children of the night au #long post

[zeawesomebirdie]

Hey Tomas. You said you do typesetting. I imagine that includes trying to find good fonts, having favourites etc, so do you... perhaps... want to talk about those? If you have an interest in them? Because I'm not into typesetting but I do love going on like dafont and trying to find good fonts that fit my OCs. Which, as a side consequence, also means sometimes in the street I go oh hey that's written in Little Lord Fontleroy, which I kid you not has happened thrice now with that exact font. People love it I guess?? At least it's not Papyrus or god forbid Comic Sans :') anyway yeah fonts. Do you have favourites. Do you want to share.

OH OKAY SO

first hi, I'm sorry this took so long to respond to, I've kinda been in the hospital and then recovering from a fatigue episode so I'm so sorry for how long this has taken, ily Ram thank you for your patience <3

Brief history on why I'm learning typesetting: I really want to have printed hard copies of all my favorite fics. Nothing more fancy than that. Then, the more I dove into fanbinding with the help of @renegadepublishing and their server, I also discovered the wonderful world of fandom history and preservation! And now that I'm active in a local queer sci-fi/fantasy group too, it's become even more important to me to print the fics I love. I'm currently learning to primarily typeset because I'm a little restricted on funds, so I'm going to get as much typeset as I can so that when I can finally afford the materials to print these fics, I'll be able to just print and bind all at once, y'know?

So the font I use the most has to be EB Garamond! I got mine from google fonts, but I just searched for it and I'm not finding it? It's not really my favorite per se, but I use it the most for the majority of the typesetting I do. It came recommended in @armoredsuperheavy 's Ao3 fic to fanbound book tutorial, which is my basis for all the typesetting I do at this time. (I wish I had actual examples to show off, but I haven't actually printed any of my typesets yet, and I wont print them until I can actually bind them y'know?) I've found it to be a good all-purpose font to fit a variety of fics, and it's looked just as good on my BotW fics and Star Wars fics as it does on knitting patterns!

My favorite font though would have to be Aurebesh Droid by StormtrooperOnWeekends! It's so smooth, especially for an aurebesh font, like bro it's so aesthetically pleasing!!! There were two others that I saved, specifically because they were for fics that needed a different vibe than that one did: Aurebesh Hand by Cinematic Captures and Aurebesh by Pixel Sagas. Aurebesh Hand was perfect for my obikin fic, and I saved the general Aurebesh font just to be on the safe side in case I ever needed a good all-purpose aurebesh for whatever reason.

Now for other fonts that I'm utterly in love with! I highly highly recommend you check out the work of Dieter Steffmann on dafont, who's been going through and digitizing old blackletter fonts. I'm a sucker for blackletter, like, omg, so to have a resource like this is so cool! And I haven't yet gotten to use the majority of these outside of dropcaps, but I'm hoping that I'll have more opportunities in the future!

So I'm still just at the beginning of my font exploration, as you can see! I'll take any recommendations you have, if you don't mind sharing!

#ahhhh #it feels so terrifying @ing this super big blogs omg #like #ahhhhhhhh #but anyway hi ram ily #thanks for the ask!!!

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC Review: Silver Lady by Mary Jo Putney

3/5. 1`1/28/2023.

Vibes: light magic, amnesia, found family, and a generally fluffier touch.

After being adopted off the streets as a child, the paranormally gifted Bran Tremayne returns to Cornwall on commands from the Home Office. There, he meets the amnesiac Merryn, whose past could hold the key to the mystery he's investigating. Caught between threatening forces, Merryn has no choice but to trust Bran in her efforts to recover her memories and stop a dangerous plot.

This one was very.... meh. I could see the quality of the writing (to an extent--I have my quibbles) and I can definitely see how, for a reader who really loves fluffier books, this will fit the bill. While I can definitely get down with fluff, this took it a bit far for the basic premise, and I found it tonally jarring.

Quick Takes:

--Like I said, I can see that Putney (who I've never read before) has. a very distinct style, and it's clear why she's a popular, longstanding writer. There's a uniqueness to it, and she has a strong, distinct voice. If you like a really bouncy tone, this may be for you. And I did appreciate the aspects of found family; I'm a sucker for "group of kids taken off the street by a wealthy family", and this does execute that component well.

--The way the magic is woven into the story is quite light. Essentially, the former street kids all have these supernatural gifts, which are sort of like... overblown natural talents, with a paranormal edge. I didn't mind the paranormal being on the lighter side. It's definitely something you can see more of in old school books. But she definitely could've gone a little further (and a little more adventurous) with it.

--Part of why the paranormal aspect, and the general story, didn't quite hit for me was that the lightness of the tone really doesn't gel with the plot. You've got mystery, you've got magic. And while you can definitely take a light approach there, this is just. So light! At points, I felt like the subject matter warranted a bit more intensity, a bit more depth. It reminded me of some Julia Quinn books I've read, where it's like--this is kind of dark subject matter, and I think the writing needs to reflect that?

--Because of the generally shallow tone, the leads also come off as pretty flawless. For me, this is very boring. Everyone was really... to quote a show with a stronger paranormal edge, perfectly splendid. This made it so, while I could see Bran and Merryn's chemistry, I really didn't connect with them individually, or their romance.

--A random writing note: Putney uses "!" in a lot of places it really doesn't belong, especially in Merryn's dialogue. I found that kind of distracting.

The Sex:

It's present, but damn if it isn't very, very euphemistic. And you know, I enjoy some euphemistic writers, and I can definitely enjoy it when it's a part of, say, an 80s romance that has a generally flowery style. But in 2023, when you're writing a sex scene this flowery and this euphemistic (and brief) you really might as well just skip the whole scene and keep it closed door. Like, we're not even talking, like "knot of flesh", we are talking "her most sensitive place". I wasn't into it.

Again, I can see why Putney has loyal readers. The vibe just didn't work for me, and it's a shame, because I think the concept itself is so intriguing.

Thanks to Kensington and Netgalley for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

#romance novel blogging #arc reviews #netgalley #romance novels #books #book reviews

[bitterarcs]

PARENTS.

Most of which Reno remembers of his mother is a construct of his imagination. Reno idolizes the memory of her because it’s all he has and really ever had of her. When it comes to his parents and especially his mother, it’s not something he often or wants to recall and certainly never ever speaks of them to anyone. However when he does think or dream about his childhood, he recalls his mother being beautiful, young, and warm; her bright smile is a clear picture in his head. Again, it’s possible the image is a figment of his imagination for Reno was four years old when his mother abandoned him and his father. Reno recalls walking pleasantly at his mother’s side, holding her hand, as she greeted neighbors and strangers. In reality, Reno’s mother often used her son to gain sympathy from the public as she begged for gil.

She loved her son . . to a point, but did not love him enough to stay with him and his father or even take Reno with her. A Midgar resident and aspiring actress, she was just eighteen years old when she met Reno’s father and tumbled head first into a brief romance which ended with disappointment and pain. Reno’s father, thirty-three at the time, was a Mideel native ( and a widower ) who made one bad decision after the next. All he knew was a meager farming life Mideel. He was a farmer, his farther a farmer, and so forth. Like the majority of people accustomed to one thing, he dreamed of the something different, most notably dreamed of wealth and power. He and a childhood friend decided to sell their parcels of land for whatever they could get for it and moved to Midgar to become “big shots”.

Both men had heard rumours about the fortune to win at Midgar through supposed reputable and not so reputable sources ( words purposefully whispered by tourists to trick the ignorant ). Midgar chewed up and spit out Reno’s father eventually. While all Reno can remember is a horrid thing of a man, his father was once far kinder. When he made successful bets and won big, he was generous with his money, friendly, and somewhat charismatic. It was during this short bout of showing off his little sum of wealth that Reno’s parents met. Reno’s father thought her youth and aspiration to make a name for herself was utterly charming, and she found his generosity and country mannerism endearing. The good times lasted very briefly. She ended up pregnant and without work, and he made bad investment after bad investment.

The two attempted to make things work however. They downgraded their lives and Reno was a child of the slums. She mostly took care of Reno and performed small odds and ends to gain extra gil, while Reno’s father worked in a canning factory. These new lives of theirs brought them into a depression. Reno’s mother was a very emotional woman where she completely adored her son or resented him for putting a damper on her career. She was never a particularly outstanding actress, however what she lacked in talent she had in beauty. Beauty did not and could not dominate her flights of fancy and mood swings ( which could be extremely severe ). Reno’s father became more and more dejected, and having his aspirations crushed turned him into a cruel and bitter man. Perhaps he had always been such.

Reno doesn’t know if his memory of his father is accurate, at least physically, for he saw the man for what he was on the inside . . a disgusting and rabid blob. After Reno’s mother left, his father became even worse. He did not love his son. He did not care about his son. There was a lot of emotional, mental, and physical abuse which transpired in the wake of his mother’s absence, and Reno survived due to his own actions. It wasn’t just the abuse he endured from his father, but also the cruelty of street kids who were older or larger than Reno. He left his father’s side at the age of thirteen, and two years later learned his father got in a tremendous amount of debt with powerful men.

Reno’s friends ( primarily gang members ) had informed him that his father was searching for him. He was half tempted to kill his father himself, but upon seeing his father, he wasn’t able to do or say any of the things he had dreamed of for so long. However Reno did snitch on his own father. The men his father owned money to rewarded Reno with a decent amount of gil, and Reno even witnessed his father being bludgeoned and hauled away. That was the last time he saw or heard of his father. He never heard of his mother after she left.

FAMILY.

For all intensive purposes, the Turks are Reno’s family. When anyone mentions family, he will only speak of the Turks. At first he forced himself to think of them as something close ( to replace the void in his heart ), but after trust was gained in a mutual fashion, he really does see them as family.

                              [ META ] + reno’s parents / family    @stingslikeabee​

#[ ⁰⁰⁵ ; READING YOUR CONFESSIONS LIVE ON AIR ] #* I usually like to explore this through storylines #* but this was a fun brainstorm #stingslikeabee #[ ⁰⁰⁴ ; EXPOSING THE WIRES IN MY HEAD ]

[libidomechanica]

On the spikes of his men, and seemed

A ballad sequence

               I

Love to the place has brought soul for     thy hand! Hindering about: Noli me tangere, for the     cup that on the street, and

yet how fain would make and thou art     into the lists the Phrygian king, my darling, my spring     about: Noli me

tangere, for a lass wi’ a tocher,     then the proue. Yet God’s just beyond that purple fritillaries     that we be sent,

ichoot from a darkness is in     her eyes. Jean Arthur with many dayes: I wonne her way, of     custom, Gama said: I

worne out the shadow lend. On the     spikes of his men, and seemed to love vehicles the very     night, and desperate seas

long locks down my books. All they doe     as then. He wonder a treat. Show by this love than mournful     widdowes hangen themselves

to ride backward from myself,     in happiness at a long ago; lust am fallen:     they cannot climb out. In

bowers our flesh mouldie moss, and to     thee, and fever, as yet, there stirs a quiver. Kind is Stella     oft sees the conquer’d?

               II

To see hoped some thrise-sad tragedie.     And far descending smiles and mists are express’d; but less proved     so lowde: which it was far conquest of us: that my prayer.     Then us the hinny he’ll crack pipe—the four kids had     not under gore, herkne to

thy siluer sound, unfree? Is Godhead     so sweete reward the tops shall have your ex-boyfriend of its     possible of love: if I saw a cherry weep, Love, foolish     work of Fancie, drawn such sleepe begins with showers. Flowers     of lowly dropping from

stars grown the air, and their wrigle     tailes, over Orion’s fate; and tis my darling, right. Laying     fleece in such frostie furrows what; and night be so sweetly,     and many dayes: I wonned to set myself I’ll have ranged     with charm’d me no more: and

presence this many time away,     my laddie’s sae meikle in languor wept: her eye, silent     lighted; and arc, spheroid and thighs, and Peace, is over, eating     on the grand mute, and legs and drunk with his base had kindled     such place, who bear all

on Parnasse hyll, but yields each on     thy voice doth prayse: but this mates; but them ill, that dance with green     bowers of these flames, which to her foot was our own silhouette     we swain, nay more, that time we’ve her with crystalline; since     sorrow and troubled soul

in Stellaes selfe haue we in the     Lion’s fate; and in the grandeur that which alters nyne, whereof.     Or why should Fate sic pleasures they comen trade, that like     a vine. Poised feet in the deare, let bee. And they were I if     they cannot beware. That

a war? Be, too, which now upon     us and a day, I feel her fair appearing the notes     as she never belly, but yeeres did let me not evening     sun on the good to singer to enjoy. Are beloved     before through she sand

when I speak thy train;—the agate     lamp within. Who but for ever. Impossible of the     you the piano appassionate tears do come back, and     to do with brow like to their arms, they circle the crush on     Myrna Loy, carole Lombard,

Paulette Goddard, coy jean Arthur     with hymnes the bump I ride in much we let you sit,     then, while we slumbered tracks. And pure virgin full sail doth     the brother. The kids had stol’n of both and told hill side. Means     I may stooped, re-father

wounded, friend and mochell mast too     much was grave locks thy fingers of that she need more silent&     quake I wouldest were friend, like lemonade. In every one     hand appearance like those boughes my thou not near and brief,     the illusion. The gos

are for. For he will he is will     stop it, death wilfully upon us as objects, thought     coole, and therefore wild scatter’d farms. In the darts. Would love was     vanquished, you need saving notes, while each its foot so fair, and     wings for me. There I smells,

if not destroy the Lityerses-     song again, where went the lords out and my heart, pity a     hundred air shaft the Soul to Spirit, by spirit in the     ampersand, the roar that she nor me. Flickering with Spirit     all time of lowly

dropping from times; but to disclose;     so to see. Your shall dead reckoning. On high, arise, for a     lass wi’ a tocher, then her height, nought with dew; nor silent     thy repose, and trees unrooted left behind. And over     and round me hopped Hurst, its

princes too, vs in the other.     Over Orion’s gravity, I’ve checked you in Grecian     tires? In the Eternal World, who are sealed off in a     still with loves me falls it then, that to winne renowne, a grieuous     case, the writing on their

christall face beneath the basement     when ye countest things are. To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and is     allay’d, to left of thee rested the morning, to leaves of     the fertile earth can spie; take me to pleasant though it was     but are crush on Myrna

Loy, white am with this, was it     chance, and this morning, her mine rebuked me so straight in ev’ry     possess and Four; interpreting; sings his sickly     appetite to pleasure it’s much can have low down through they drewe     an auncient heighten that

one then sweet mood which reason gave,     and I myself and proffer of mine more like Jocasta     in a trains are not from hevene it in his here wanderer     of thy louely hate. With her, who will scatter’d world to     offer the purpose of

heau’nly blisse, long small woo ye. And     lazy lingering in—I too wide of your wild beasts find sometime     he cannot say what an iron in the small kinds of     those presence seem’d my blisse brings, too, such outrage showe? Who cried,     all thy stock than this not!

               III

Death’s second time we’ve heart thy Body’s Strength the grain.     Passing, or hold they bene the path there Cupid’s name. Of our palace shot its signify;     no sonar with eyes even at

night. Lo Collin, her organ’s praise and perpetual     dullness. The sprang sublime, these flame, she, and Peace, for a little weeping from love, be     the other shame your winding smile, our

laws are fallen: they not my faithlesse favour! But     Sylvio, when I felt it so read’st the slender purple pride But it must be his: her     hands. Not allow Come hither mother

I would have for that put on more dark as night. Deep,     and curtaines spreads and even if by me the asp for the graunt to pleasure: but the     hidden brookside gleam primrose on me

thundring mynde. And mother, when ye country-folk     acquainted to fall; soone will give it struck me dead? And chess being best language woo: take a     friend, like to all tend upon life have,

life’s moiety and the mountain road, which reason did     defend, a maze where she did breed that to write above thee! When spray biginneth too. And     lighted; and die! To burn as closet

case. No purple cleft their own selfe, all fear, that he     is too longed for, spied its wreaths; and fear, that hope, once still either without descend into     joint narrative does not such Pollution!—

Finding smile, for it, O Thyrsis the grass! The     slaking mouthed and vaine, the sea. Let’s try tone; until its chief powres are for wowing of     such than anyone: that’s in hire wil

on hire bounty doth take twenty years, still our madness     unforgiven, an angry Pallas on air, and soft cheek or faded eye of strength,     nor flowretts bene annoied. Or to

view, robert Burns: there born to lament what use to     mee: no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. Men gave, and flyes, the lad bene then the forces we     first shade, it like a wintry eye: but

when to her eye. I know my visits here, too rare,     to want it to the child; but the threates, if Fancie, drained of create you tend? Where wet window     he hope for semlokest of an

All Nighting was, knowing her bosom, panting, burst     of love depend on the poesy, the head thee accloieth, my Sinnamon smell too much it     was but at push-pin half the Pen of

my life: my brave galleries past care, as doen, while     sore than she. Wicked eares? Than like awe, that is no my ain lassie, fair neck the girl,     who else, not, but a dream thy counsel,

and he love, to be torn, red grief its possible     of alle wommen my nature slips, prison all the antique time had it lighted; and     you might my faith; but the heart beat neath

to spring daffodil, I know not hides the     watercress so fair, when the soyle, that lips sweld so very nape of hair away dyd     Free adit; we will lie, souls transit.

               IV

Less than seruants wracke, for at all     the shiny things that break. And freedome doe professes, and     only landscape a velvet

Elvis above thee to meet     his jive ass back not his Jenny on his plaintiue please you? Knowing     faces in flower

as your misgiving die, and tears,     this lips, if that hide then hey, for a lass wi’ the four kids     had never hugged it over

brother. Be near and while ech     this bow of mine though hate sweet mood is censure your fortune’s     shine But high Towers in

the cold half-round me to the pear     and there is no one else to the could not with my braunches     back. Lopped-off heads of these

men are having that sang out Mine—     mine—not your name, to shake. But be content could not dead: o     let thus, and where I if

they should be liberty. And course     was old. For this is no port of strange. In thy head banging     a wisp, a gasp, sonorous

stole a long tale, and that myself     the vista of year, its quiet be exalted be     a lilly on thorn, thy

cup is ruby-rimmed, that breath with     Psyche evening breezy air; and where else to make him feel.—     They all her solitarie

Brere with his brief, the hitch between     Vertue and vain the meadows in what nymphs should boldly trip and     pitied of heau’nly blisse.

And the Sunne, within his her clere     voice lifts its thread that I cannot she is growne fast with she     saw the very

capitulation we checked there need more     train was a crush on Myrna Loy. Gave its threates, if Fancy,     and so woe-begone?

               V

I set myself, with evermore.     “But see the quiet paine. Flickering vp sterne strike from the     woods! The long-star. But whence

didst shoulder blasts anywhere. To     be the holy frankincense I smells, if not for you the     primroses it was without

descry neath each with the dear     souls transfer where it with the furrowes: drerily shooting     his ill-omened

song of torment us with     authority—the Lady Blanched fists. Through me ran; and his     draught me some kind wind shall

be as blacke the Light of lowly     chilling else I fynde: then her memory stand nothing to     her, give her with grief its

possible of a hope to get     marriage of tall asleep, Love, this waxeth wan: levedy,     al forward violet thus

that Stella O dear and wood: oh,     light it not gall, and her mine was metaphor. But O, my     heart a-dying. So, now

here mayet thus, the humble as the     red peach in this shame alike. Thy flocks, above, over they’re     over brother, he in

the shooting his sheep, his head banging     sometimes under the great Creator’s primal burst     I neuer ginne tasswage.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #114 texts #ballad sequence

[rurousha]

From Fox River to Central City, Ch 4/14

Chapter 4 - Washington DC

Earth-29 Washington DC 2005

He could barely breathe more than shallow gasps. The fog had gotten so thick that he could no longer see his family, and with a terrible crash, he realized that the fog was thickest around him.

“Michael? Michael, what happened?” Lincoln shouted. Michael couldn’t answer, the weight in his lungs was so great and so painful. He collapsed to one knee. Then Michael saw a flicker of yellow lightning and a roar of bright red flame.

“There you are!” a rough voice shouted. It almost, almost sounded like Lincoln.

Lincoln, LJ, Veronica, and Barry looked up to see Heatwave – wearing his fireman’s coat and goggles and wielding what Barry recognized as the heat gun – running down the fire escape. The flame had melted some of the metal framework, but the fire hadn’t reached the ground.

Barry said, “Guys, go, go.”

Before anyone got the chance to retreat out the other side of the alley – away from the fog enveloping Michael – another shot of fire stormed down. It caught the dumpster, which exploded. Veronica screamed, and LJ backpedaled into his father.

The fog retreated down to the ground at the heat of the flames. Michael tried to gasp in desperately, but his respite was brief. The fog swirled up his body and into his mouth and nose. His cheeks, his tongue, and his throat went numb.

Barry grabbed LJ and ran him past the flames and around the building. Then he did the same with Veronica. Just before he grabbed Lincoln, Lincoln held up his hand and shouted, “No. I can’t have him chasing them for me.”

“Ah,” Heatwave called. He jumped down the last bit of fire escape and landed heavily on his feet. “Noble. Stupid.” He looked over at Michael, who was bent double over the asphalt in his difficulty to breathe. “Jeez, kid. How old are you?”

“Back off, Mick,” Barry said. “We don’t have to fight here.”

“You’re right, Barry Allen.” The voice was familiar but still completely new. It was older, deeper than Michael’s, and it held such obvious contempt.

Killer Cold stood on the sidewalk, opposite the fire, past Michael. The fog radiated out from him, though it stayed close to the ground. He wore dark clothes and a blue parka, though the right sleeve had been shredded off. Instead of a bare arm, though, the flesh was embedded with metal and circuitry. There was a glowing blue circle in his forearm. He wore no goggles, and his eyes were blue. The right was lighter and brighter than could possibly be natural.

“For once, Barry,” he said, “we’re not here for you. I know you won’t, but leave with the woman and kid. Be their hero. The world won’t miss these two.”

Barry stood up straight and stepped in front of Lincoln. The fire was behind him and Heatwave, Michael, and Killer Cold in front. He had changed into his uniform during one of his runs, and Michael suddenly saw the hero that Central City must see every day.

“You’re right, Snart. I can’t leave. I won’t.”

“Yeah, I figured that would be your answer.”

Lightning enveloped Barry. At the same time, Michael realized what he felt under his hand, on the asphalt below the fog. Ice.

“Barry,” he rasped desperately, “don’t!”

It was too late. Barry bolted through the alley, shoving Heatwave against the wall as he passed. But as soon as he hit the alley entrance, he slipped on the ice and skidded into the street.

“Does that ever not work?” Killer Cold said to himself. The fog suddenly dissipated, showing that the alley, the sidewalk, and much of the street was covered in slick ice. The fog also disappeared from inside Michael’s lungs, and he gasped in harshly.

Barry tumbled to the far side of the road. He staggered to his feet but wasn’t in time to move before a heavy pickup truck swerved on the ice and hit Barry at 35 miles an hour.

“Barry!” Michael shouted hoarsely.

Barry was knocked back. The truck skidded onto dry asphalt, but the driver over-corrected as he tried to brake and regain control. The truck spun, nearly rolling over, to a stop, blocking traffic from one direction. One tire was shredded, it’s front was dented in, and the toolbox in the back had burst open.

Michael ran back into the alley before Killer Cold had a chance to come after him. Lincoln and Heatwave were tussling over the heat gun. It fired and set some rubbish on the ground on fire. Michael grabbed the only weapon he could find – a loose pipe – and, ignoring the fact that he looked just like his brother, swung it at Heatwave. He saw it coming and blocked with one arm, which sent the heat gun flying out of both their hands. Heatwave used the freedom to grab Lincoln and bodily threw him into Michael. The brothers hit the ground hard.

Heatwave ran after his gun, and Michael and Lincoln ran the other way, into the street with Killer Cold.

“Lincoln,” Michael said, “the truck. I have an idea.”

Killer Cold was shooting after Barry with a cold flame that erupted from his palm. It looked just like the blast from the cold gun. Barry was keeping ahead of the blast but hadn’t made it any closer to his opponent. Cold did a wide sweep with his hand. The cold blast lanced across the road and two cars that had quickly been abandoned. It created an ice wall, blocking traffic on the other side from the wrecked truck. Barry was quickly running out of dry ground on which to run.

Barry ran next to the truck where Michael and Lincoln were climbing into the back, to the tool box. He wondered, briefly, what they were doing and was relieved to see that the driver had made it out already. Then he ran in a circle, gathering lightning. He stopped suddenly and threw the lightning at Killer Cold. Just in time, Cold raised a shield of ice encasing his right arm. The shield shattered on impact and threw Cold backwards into the wall of ice behind him. It cracked but didn’t fall.

“Well,” Cold groaned. “That’s new.”

In the back of the truck, Michael threw open the tool chest and quickly found a wrench. Lincoln grabbed a tire iron.

“Why don’t more people keep guns in their cars?” Lincoln complained.

Michael spotted Heatwave approaching them, gun raised. “Look out!” He grabbed Lincoln’s arm, and the two of them jumped out of the truck just as Heatwave fired on it. They hit the asphalt, panting.

Then Lincoln saw, amidst the people running away from the fire and ice, Veronica and LJ running towards them. “No! Get back!” he shouted.

Then the truck burst into flame, and the brothers had to roll away from it. Heatwave must have hit the gas tank, Michael realized.

“Okay,” Lincoln said. “I’m going to distract pyro me. You do your thing.”

“Be careful, Linc.”

“Yeah, you too.”

They ran in opposite directions, Lincoln towards Heatwave and Michael towards the far sidewalk. The five of them – Lincoln, Michael, Heatwave, Killer Cold, and Barry – were boxed into the street with the flaming truck on one side and the wall of ice on the other.

Barry threw lightning at Heatwave while Killer Cold picked himself up off from the ice. But Barry’s attention was split, and his aim was off. Heatwave dodged, and the lightning exploded against the nearest building. Lincoln used the opening to run at Heatwave and take a swing with the tire iron. It caught Heatwave across the temple but barely stunned him. Heatwave fired blindly and swung the flame around. Lincoln dodged, but the fire caught his left shoulder.

Meanwhile, Michael ran across the opposite sidewalk. Killer Cold fired at him, but Barry threw a flaming tire in its path instead. Michael got to the fire hydrant and quickly unscrewed the front cap with the wrench. Barry ran on the dry asphalt and launched himself at Killer Cold, over the ice, and punched him across the jaw. Both landed on the ground, but Barry slipped on all fours.

“Stupid tractionless shoes.”

Michael used the wrench to unscrew the top cap of the fire hydrant. Slowly, at first, water shot out the front. Then faster as the pressure released, and it shot across the road and hit Killer Cold at 1,500 gallons per minute. The water froze instantly on contact with Cold’s right arm and formed a solid block of ice around him. It kept freezing the water and followed its flow back to the hydrant, which burst and froze in a shower of ice.

Heatwave ran for Killer Cold and started to melt the ice with his gun. It was already starting to crack around Cold’s right arm when Cold flexed it. He shook half of the ice off.

Michael ran for Barry to help him up and away from the ice while Lincoln ran for Veronica and LJ, who were coming around the flaming truck.

In a peak of dramatic timing, a breach opened up right in front of the truck. Cisco – in full Vibe gear – jumped out. “Anyone need a rescue?” Then, grinning, he fired energy blasts at both Killer Cold and Heatwave, who were knocked backwards.

Lincoln ushered Veronica and LJ towards the breach.

“Dad?” LJ sounded scared.

“I know, just go.” Lincoln made sure Veronica and LJ went through before he turned toward Michael and Barry.

“You too, man.” Without further warning, Cisco pushed Lincoln through the breach.

Just as Michael and Barry had almost made it to Cisco, Killer Cold regained his footing. He shouted, “No!” and fired at Michael.

Barry spun the two of them. He took the blast across his left ribs, hip, and leg. He screamed in pain.

“Barry!” Cold yelled.

“Barry!” Cisco turned and fired at Cold again.

Michael grabbed Barry around the shoulders and helped him hobble toward the breach. Cisco covered them, and finally, the breach closed behind them.

#from fox river to central city #cw's the flash #the flash #dc #prison break #crossover