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57sfinest · 1 year

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theoretical entroponetics: the post

okay. LONG post incoming. i have summarized all available information on the pale, separated into confirmed objective truth & in-canon speculation that may or may not be true, and then appended my own very detailed theory on the pale! this post is meant as a resource; please feel free to add things of your own in replies/reblogs (please tag me if you do!) or point out any errors i may have made. you’re welcome to use any of my personal theory in your own work but please credit me if you do!! (and tag me in that/send it to me, i really want to see what you do with it!)

Here’s what we *know* about the pale, according to in-game and concept art:

It erases data, at least the kind stored on radiocomputer filament and magnetic tapes.

It has no dimensions of its own- pale latitude compressors serve to force dimensions on raw pale and allow navigation.

The pale is referred to in the context of entropy

It arrived with mankind, but not immediately- there are 8000 years of written history, but the pale was first recorded 6000 years ago, implying that pale either didn’t start forming immediately or that it was so insignificant/distant that it went unnoticed for 2000 years.

There exists a group of people who are actively trying to expedite entroponetic collapse; the ideology is called entropolism

To this point, pale isn’t immediately visible. Pale has molecular structure, but manifests as a waveform, and only becomes visible at a certain distance from the origin, once wave frequency is sufficiently high.

During pale exposure, people experience “sense objects”: visual or auditory hallucinations and/or vivid physical recollections of memories. These hallucinations may originate from their own consciousness or someone else’s. c

People require physical and mental examinations before interisolary travel and are allotted a certain number of days per year as their pale exposure threshold.

Overexposure results in a pale “addiction”- these individuals crave pale exposure, and it’s unclear if this addiction can ever be broken. It’s also unclear whether there is a point at which pale exposure becomes lethal, but given that it dissolves matter, we can be fairly certain that a given length of continuous exposure will kill.

Radio signals, cold plasma torches and anodic sound are all used to manage the pale to permit travel through it. Plasma torches destabilize the molecular structure of the pale to create gaps, anodic sound widens and maintains these gaps, and radio signals rationalize the pale into recognizable dimensions.

Radio signals are, in return, susceptible to corruption by the pale, resulting in entroponetic crosstalk, where signals from the past or the future are transmitted to the present. CCP is one such phenomenon and is directly related to the formation of new pale through magpie interpretation.

There is a dedicated Union for people who work in and with the pale (the Pale Workers Union). They have two slogans; “The light purifies; The sound absolves; The pale no more” and “Son et Fureur” (sound and fury)

Here’s what we may choose to believe about the pale, based on the thoughts and beliefs of in-game characters:

In conversation with Soona, the pale is described as a “curdling milk” phenomenon: “repulsive, but natural”

In this same conversation you can theorize that the churches were meant to contain the pale origins; out of the seven churches, six were destroyed during the suzerain or the revolution

The phasmid and whatever other lifeforms it’s communicated with believe that entroponetic collapse is comparable to an oxygen holocaust (i.e. the great oxygenation event), implying mass extinction due to a toxic overabundance of sapient thought

Harry refers to it once by saying “The wolf is at the door. It’s going to eat the sun.” so take that as you will

It’s likely that Tiago’s “Mother” is some manifestation from the pale, if you choose to believe that the 2mm hole is in fact a pale origin point (the concept art does confirm it’s a pale origin, but the game offers other explanations, so I won’t say it’s the only answer)

Inframaterialists believe that revolutionary action (NOT thought) may create a counter-force that will prevent the spread of pale; it’s unclear if any reversal is possible.

The world will be fully consumed by the pale in 27 years (I put it here because you may or may not believe that shivers and harry are reliably sourcing this information)

And now my personal speculation about the pale:

A quick and easy point: it’s confirmed that the pale has a measurable EMF “exhalation” frequency that varies with proximity. Strong enough EMF pulses can actually tamper with magnetic storage- radiocomputer filaments! Electronics! Fortress Accident data loss! This gives us a tangible explanation for why pale can delete data :)

This may also explain its ability to cause radio interference- radio frequencies are just a subset of EMF frequencies, so it’s possible that pale exhalation on *just the right frequency* is what’s responsible for the entroponetic crosstalk we get on radios sometimes

The pale canonically has an atomic structure, but it also has wave properties, so it’s possible that the pale has wave-particle duality on its subatomic level, like photons do

Based on this, entroponetics is likely a very similar field to quantum mechanics, which might be an interesting source of ideas for anyone (like me) who wants to explore pale-related possibilities

The pale could be a manifestation of raw patterns. That’s why math “forces dimensions” on it- it rationalizes or “tames” the patterns, which allows it to be manipulated to a certain degree.

There are several references to the pale that refer to mathematical concepts and patterns, saying that the world dissolves into “a tangle of azimuths and cosines” as it blends into the interisolary pale- more on this later

Steban comments that the pale is commonly theorized to be nostalgia or “historical inertia”, but it’s largely agreed that it’s “the past” in a broad sense. Thinking about the idiom that history repeats itself, it could be that history/the past is part of the pattern that comprises the pale, and that it’s also the type of pattern most readily perceived by people (people don’t viscerally *perceive* math, for example, but we experience memories)

To first define entropy: Chemically speaking, “the measure of a system’s thermal energy per unit temperature that is unavailable for doing useful work. (per encyclopedia britannica).” Physically speaking, it’s a measure of randomness or disorder in a system. Less work/less order = more entropy; it’s a physicochemical “winding down” of a given system

It’s commonly thought that pale is the entropic force, but what if it’s the opposite? (Keep in mind the chemical definition: less ability to do work = more entropy) Consider: the pale as less entropic, a cleanup force, recycling the potential lost by death and destruction in the universe. This in part explains why a dead person’s memory is present in the pale- their potential has been recycled into the pale in the form of their memories (their life’s *pattern*)

Enthalpy is a related concept to entropy and is defined as the total energy contained within a system. Holding the system enthalpy constant- saying the universe will always have the same amount of total energy, no matter what, according to thermodynamics- results in an entropic tug-of-war between the pale and the world. The pale wins through sheer inertia (again, inertia is mentioned specifically in game)

Overall: think of the world as “cooling”, losing heat and energy through war and death and complacency. Think of the pale as steam and heat, melting down old materials to start it all over again. (Kim says, *through entroponetic interference*: “it’s been a long, cold winter.”)

Consider: the pale as a sinusoidal function, eternally repeating. The pale recycling the universe to start a new cycle, “spending” itself, resulting in pale not being present in the beginning. Then, as the new things begin to settle- with the advent of the human mind, specifically- the pale reforming, slowly reclaiming potential, eventually ending the cycle to start again.

In comes CCP and magpies. Consider: CCP as a backwards transmission from the next “cycle” (after all, pale has no sense of time). Magpies as *pattern-sensitive* people who are able to decode CCP into something useful called novelty. They reach into the potential of the next cycle to build the potential in their current one- this paradox could be what creates more pale, because (and this is where it gets weird, I apologize) doing this retroactively increases the total amount of energy/work/potential in the current cycle to have been reclaimed by the pale for the next one.

Think of the pale as the compost bin for every single thought in the universe. The pale is the exact right size to compost every little atom and thought in the universe, and can hold nothing extra. But magpies reach into the future, the next cycle, and bring in extra. This paradox forces the pale to grow to accommodate the additional material, which also increases the starting potential of the next cycle. This process allows each cycle to accumulate minor changes from the previous one, which can snowball over many cycles.

Furthermore, to the inframaterialists’ point: revolutionary action would be such a radical shift in inertia that it would increase the potential in the world, forcing the pale to pause/shrink to “balance the equation” in terms of pale-vs-world thermodynamics. So maybe they’re right after all :)

And some diagramming, to explain the utter bullshit I’ve just dropped:

#disco elysium #entroponetics #the pale #disco elysium pale #the pale disco elysium #sorry idk the tags for this #theoretical entroponetics #this is all based on legitimate quantum physics and stuff so you could definitely go crazy with these concepts #if anything doesn't make sense please tell me!! i don't know how well i explained it #i'll be happy to rework things if i need to #anyway yeah so im deeply in love with the pale. im basically a real life entroponeticist now #also i didnt include in-game screenshot proof for brevitys sake #but feel free to add them or ask me for some and i can put it up! here or in asks #kiwipost #gen meta

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itsjaywalkers · 4 months

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a lil smth under the cut for u guys <3

part 2 part 3

"Potter, if you dare to step any closer, I swear I will knock your teeth out."

Potter halts his advancement as soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, but Regulus remains tense, alert, shoulders stiff and hands itching to curl into fists. Maybe it's because he knows Potter more than enough after all these weeks of watching his matches and interviewing him after them. Weeks of listening to him brag, and taunt, and flirt shamelessly, despite Regulus always being set on retaining some sense of professionalism.

Maybe it's because of the way he smirks at Regulus' threat, or how he raises both hands in mock surrender, the gesture lazy and insincere.

Or maybe it's the fact that they're alone in the ring, even though Regulus should've left with his crew more than half an hour ago. And the fact that Potter isn't wearing a shirt, but he seems to be allergic to them, anyway, so it's not like it fazes him at this point.

That's what he keeps telling himself, at least.

"You can certainly try," Potter says with his hands still up, and offering a tiny shrug. "I don't know if I like your chances, though."

Regulus narrows his eyes. "You don't think I can fight you?"

"I don't think you can win."

He crosses his arms over his chest as he lets out a scoff, and Potter's smirk seems to grow bigger at the sound.

"And why the fuck not?" Regulus questions.

"Because I'm a professional boxer, love," Potter explains, his voice patient, but there's a certain mocking edge in his words that makes Regulus grits his teeth. "I wouldn't be where I am if someone like you could touch me."

"Someone like me?" Regulus repeats a bit incredulously. He can already feel that one vein in his forehead starting to pop out.

James chuckles, shaking his head a little. He finally drops his arms down. "You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't. And I'm not sure I want to."

"C'mon, love—"

"Don't call me that."

"—you don't even know how to throw a punch."

Regulus blinks at him, not sure if he's heard correctly, and then he does a double take, barely repressing a derisive snort.

"Excuse me?" he murmurs. "Of course I know how to throw a punch."

"You think you know how to throw a punch," Potter corrects him, that infuariating smile still in place. Regulus is tempted to prove him how well he can actually throw a punch just to wipe it off his face.

"I mean, obviously I can't do it like you do, you're a professional athlete, for fuck's sake—"

"Oh, love, don't worry, I'd never hold you to my standards," Potter intervenes with a laugh, eyes shining with mirth. Regulus face is beginning to heat up, and he isn't sure if it's because of anger or something else. "I'm not talking about a boxing punch. I'm talking about a proper punch."

Regulus exhales loudly, fingers twitching. "Potter."

"Yeah?"

"I know how to throw a fucking proper punch."

Potter raises an eyebrow and he lets his gaze to go up and down the length of Regulus' body, slow and intentional. Regulus has a hard time not squirming, battling against his instincts to keep his face empty, to stop his thighs from pressing together.

"I bet you don't," Potter comments, once his eyes finally find Regulus' again. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't make breathing any easier. "You're too pretty to have been getting into fights."

Regulus is unable to suppress an indignant huff, cheeks coulouring at an alarming pace while his expression twists into a scowl.

"You don't fucking know me," he seethes, jaw so clenched it's slowly becoming painful. "You've got no idea of how my life looks like, or what I've done to get where I'm at."

Potter seems unbothered by the outburst. In fact, he kind of looks a little entertained.

"Maybe so," he concedes with a tilt of his head. "But I know you'd break easy."

Regulus' heart skips a beat. "I don't—"

"Just look at you," Potter goes on, staring him up and down once again. He still sounds slightly mocking, but there's something else in his tone this time. Something darker. "So fucking gorgeous. Holding yourself like you're goddamn royalty. You're feisty, and you're sneaky, I'll give you that, but you'd fold embarrisingly fast against me, wouldn't you, love?"

Regulus gulps, throat suddenly so dry it feels like sandpaper. He tries to shake his head, but his body isn't responding, and when he opens his mouth to snap back, nothing comes out of it.

"You like to act all tough and cold and as if nothing can touch you, but if I were to lay my hands on you—"

"Potter," Regulus manages to spit out, but it sounds hoarse. Weak.

"Oh, you'd break so beautifully for me, right, love? You'd put a bit of a fight at first, because you can't help yourself, and I like that about you anyway, but you'd let go at some point."

"Potter," he tries again, and it sounds a bit sharper, but still too close to a whimper for Regulus' tastes.

"I'd fucking ruin you if you allowed me to, Regulus." His name makes him tremble, goosebumps breaking into his skin, and Regulus has to bite his tongue to stop an inappropriate noise from escaping. "I know you want to. You're really fucking stubborn, and you almost fooled me that first time, that's true, but one can only keep that facade for so long. I've seen how you look at me."

"And how do I look at you?"

"Like all those girls who can't ask me for an autograph without blushing, thinking of me when they have their hands between their legs," Potter responds, gaze so intense it makes Regulus want to scream. "Like your cameraman whenever I stand a bit too close to him, always shifting his body the slightest bit so his shoulder grazes mine. Like Lily whenever I'm between her thighs, and she's begging me to let her come."

Regulus almost gasps, burning with fury but also with something that has nothing to do with it.

The audacity of this man, really. Regulus hates him. Despises him, even. Him and his absurd amount of confidence that has no business being this attractive.

It's hard to pretend to be unaffacted. To pretend he doesn't feel a stab in his stomach by that last statement, by the thought of James and Lily being together, even though it's something he's known almost since the beginning. To act like he doesn't care, like he isn't fucking aching between his legs, wet and hot and desperate.

Regulus doesn't think he completely manages it.

"You're so fucking full of yourself," Regulus grinds out, digging his nails into his arms so hard he's sure to leave marks.

"And yet I'm not hearing you deny it," Potter sing-songs, still grinning widely.

"I don't like you," Regulus insists, raising his chin.

"But you want me to fuck you."

This time, a strangled sound, high-pitched and bordering on needy, manages to slip out of Regulus' mouth, and James shows teeth, that feral light that appears every time he wins a match shining in his brown eyes.

"You wish," Regulus says, trying to save whatever dignity he has left, trying to fix this stupid mistake, this amateur slip up.

"I do," Potter confirms with ease, and Regulus can't swallow properly with the knot he has stuck in between his vocal chords.

"Shut up," it's all that Regulus can get out, which is quite pathetic, but still better than nothing.

"That's still not a denial," Potter points out, satisfaction oozing of him and making Regulus see red.

"I literally can't fucking stand you. I don't think it's necessary for me to tell you that I don't want anything to do with you," Regulus snaps. "Besides, if so many people are tripping all over themselves for you, then I don't understand why you're not bothering them instead."

"Because I want you."

Regulus actually chokes after that, a gulp of air getting stuck in his throat and his heart beating madly between his ribs.

"No." He shakes his head, furiously, desperately, and takes a step back almost at the same time that Potter takes a step forward.

"Yes," the other man presses, undeterred. "I want you, Regulus."

"Potter. Shut up."

"I can make you feel so good, love. You need to stop depriving yourself."

"Potter."

"I know you've thought about it. About me. I'm sure you're thinking about it now, about how amazing I'd feel between your legs, on top of you. Inside you."

"Potter. Stop."

"I bet your underwear is fucking soaked—"

"James."

It slips, sneaking past his lips without Regulus' permission, going unnoticed until it's too late to stop it, or take it back. He has the silly urge to cover his mouth with his mouth, as if that'd be enough to erase the word, the power and implications that name holds.

The reaction is almost immediate.

James' pupils spread out, eating at his irises at a concerning pace. Regulus is so distracted looking at them, that it takes him a moment to realise James is advancing, rushing towards him like a man on a mission.

Regulus retreats, nearly falling over in his haste, doing his best to get as far away from the other man as possible. But James is faster than him, and his back ends up colliding against one of the pillars of the ring. James has his arms bracketing his head in a matter of seconds, and all of a sudden, Regulus is trapped. With absolutely nowhere to go.

"Get away from me!" Regulus exclaims, voice all wrong and wobbly, hands coming up to push at James' chest but not daring to touch.

"Say it again," James demands, completely ignoring him.

"What?"

"Say it again."

Regulus scoffs weakly. "I don't want to."

"Regulus."

"Get. The fuck. Away. From me."

"Regulus."

It shakes him to his very core, and he's helpless to the shudder that rattles his frame, to the way his eyes screw close, so very tight his vision fills up with shiny spots.

When he opens them again, a few moments later, he ends up meeting James' hungry gaze head on.

It destroys the last of his defences.

"James," he repeats in a whisper, heat coiling in his stomach at the other man's intake of breath.

"Again," James asks, almost demands, voice low and strained.

"James."

"Again." And it's a beg.

"James."

"Yeah," the other man mumbles to himself. "Yeah."

James leans forward, and Regulus feels like he's about go into cardiac arrest until James turns his head at the very last second, mouth grazing the lobe of his ear instead of his lips.

"I'll teach you," he tells him softly. Quietly.

"What?" he asks, hardly breathing and refusing to move a single muscle.

James huffs, and it's amused. "How to throw a punch."

"My brother already taught me," Regulus retorts with a roll of his eyes. "And he's better than you."

"Was better than me," James shoots back, and despite this being a topic that usually annoys him, always getting him all petty and defensive, it barely drags an irritated sigh out of him this time.

"Winning one match doesn't mean anything."

"Except that it does."

"No, it doesn't. Sirius' been unbeatable for literal years, and he's worked his arse off to get to where he is, and you'll never—"

"C'mon, love," James whines against his ear, and Regulus has to swallow a gasp. "I'll lend you some comfier clothes and I'll show you how to stand and some tricks, make sure next time I'm being too much of a prick you can shut me up nicely. Maybe you'll even break my nose."

Regulus bites his lower lip, refusing to allow the corners of his mouth to curl upwards. "That does sound good."

James chuckles, and Regulus doesn't acknowledge the way that sounds fills his chest with warmth.

"So? Okay?" James wonders.

Regulus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Hopes he won't come to regret this, and sends a silent apology to his brother.

He opens his eyes.

"Okay."

#been thinking about them lately #and i couldn't help myself #besides i haven't written anything in like . 5 days #i was actually going insane #anyways this is severely unedited and it's almost 3am and im fucking knackered #so im sorry if it doesn't make sense #but well i tried #and i had fun which is what matters etc #boxer james agenda

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sssammich · 4 days

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💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed

i got you anon! sorry this took a while.

💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed for supercorp*

ask meme

THIS ABSOLUTELY RAN AWAY FROM ME IM SO SORRY

---

"your true love is an alien."

well. there's certainly a lot to unpack from that, isn't there?

let's try.

first. this short and frumpy old lady with both hands on her hips is standing in front of her desk, somehow able to bypass security and her assistant, jess, who is mysteriously absent from her desk.

second. aliens aren't real. right? (right?)

third. the concept of true love is laughable. this is the 21st century and subscribing to these silly fairytale notions of true love is a lot of bullshit. let alone the idea that there is someone even out there for lena in that capacity. nevermind that apparently the only possible candidate for such a title is someone who isn't even human.

fourth. what does this even all mean? and why is she allowing her conference call to madrid get completely derailed by this woman who looks like she's more suited for the kitchen of a small hole in the wall italian restaurant and not the middle of a fortune 500 corporate office.

(all this to say that when lena eventually looks back at her life, she'll think that this is probably not even top five of the weirdest things to happen to her. it might just barely squeak into the top ten, though.)

still, she's faced with a strange predicament at this time. like how to get this lady out of her office.

yet instead of shooing this lady out, her mouth opens to say, "what's next, are you gonna tell me that magic is also real?"

the old lady in front of her just shrugs. "true love is magic, dearie. keep up, mm?"

when she opens her mouth again, she's just about to dismiss this lady, but it doesn't even matter because as soon as she blinks, she's alone.

something saves her.

no wait, it's someone. someone saves her.

her helicopter is crashing, the pilot is dead and dying beside her, and they're plummeting.

until, of course, they're not.

because someone is carrying her burning helicopter down on a hellipad and yanking the door out to check on them. lena's heart is in her throat and her lungs are somewhere in her stomach and she doesn't know if she's still even alive. but this someone is definitely hovering before she's holding lena securely.

"hi," the woman says, tentative, blue eyes and blonde hair and armsarmsarms and a red cape and--

something inside of lena's heart changes-transforms-evolves.

and then she passes the fuck out.

when she wakes, it's to dim lighting in a hospital room, the beeping of her heartrate monitor. distantly, she hears very little outside which means she's in a much more private wing of the hospital.

she sits up a little when a nurse comes in holding a tray.

except it's not a nurse at all. but the same lady from before.

"you."

"hello, dearie."

so many questions jump at the forefront of her mind. understandable and reasonable questions like hey lady what the fuck are you doing here? how did you get in? what do you want from me? are you here to kill me? stuff like that.

except the flashes of earlier appear in her mind and she recalls blonde blue red. she gasps.

the old lady smiles. "very good, dearie. they did say you were smarter than the others."

"what do you want from me?"

"nothing."

"then what are you doing here?" she asks, her voice gaining strength, her hands balling into fists by her side.

"just consider me an invested party."

before she can voice anything, the old lady places her cup of jello and plastic spoon by her thigh.

"take care, dearie. tell her i said hello, mm?"

lena's brows furrow, questions crowding her mind as she attempts to make sense of everything but failing to do so. the last she hears is a snap of fingers and she falls into a dreamless sleep.

when lena next wakes, she's back in her office. a week after the failed assassination attempt on her life.

the buzz of her intercom signals jess's voice. "miss luthor, your 2pm appointment is here. would you like me to let her in."

"go ahead."

she stands by her desk and brushes at her skirt just as the door opens to reveal a beautiful and bespectacled woman with her hair pulled in a ponytail.

blonde blue red.

lena's mouth dries and her insides do a somersault. she remembers the helicopter, the hospital, the old lady. the words your true love is an alien pinballing in her head (in her heart in her heart in her heart).

"hi, miss luthor. thanks for meeting with me."

lena looks at the offered hand. strong hands that have held her before. on a burning helicopter.

"of course..." she says, waiting for the woman to fill in the blanks.

"kara. kara danvers."

"well, kara, call me lena."

it takes five eternal seconds for them to let go of each other's clasped hands.

lena finds out about kara bit by bit. through interviews, through professional coffee meetings, through informal coffee meetings, through casual walks around downtown and the city parks, through casual lunches and dinners and desserts.

congregating around food so she holds a fork or a burger or an ice cream cone in her hand while she fights the urge to hold kara's hand.

lena learns about who kara is. a reporter by day (who moonlights as a superhero, lena muses, but kara doesn't share that information). an avid pop music lover and movie buff. a regular buff with hard cuts of muscles. arms arms arms arms--

kara is lame. a dork. goofy. foolish. beautiful. quiet. pensive. perceptive. deep. kind. loving. oh, so loving. so very loving.

kara is a hugger. a holder. an engulfer. an overwhelmer. she is the ocean and lena is the lone driftwood that crashes against waves. lena wants to be washed ashore only for the ocean to capture her once more because the ocean can't be denied.

she doesn't want to deny kara.

"lena?"

she blinks back to her present, washing away the cloud of her thoughts. right. they're at dinner. her fork held midair just before her mouth. they are in kara's apartment.

"yes, darling?"

kara smiles at her, though there is concern in her eyes. "where'd you go just now?"

she wants to say she went to the ocean but it's true either way when she offers her best smile to kara who mirrors it easily, breezily.

"i was just thinking that your cooking has gotten better."

kara ducks her head, her smile turning shy. "thanks, lena."

lena doesn't want to deny kara.

briefly, distantly, lena thinks that perhaps there's an inevitability to this moment.

this moment being:

kara is standing in front of her with her button down shirt opened to the fifth button where lena sees the S emblem over kara's chest.

"i wanted to tell you. f-for so long, i just--" she stops herself and takes a deep breath. "i'm sorry, lena."

lena is quiet. her vision unable to focus on any one thing. she looks at the blonde of her hair out of its regular ponytail. at the blue of kara's eyes. at the red of the symbol atop her chest.

blonde blue red.

"you're an alien." she announces it for the first time, despite the truth have sat carefully under her tongue for months.

kara swallows, then nods. "lena-"

what did that old lady say? she can't remember right now because her brain is buzzing, her heart is thumping, and the overwhelming urge to melt into kara is all she can think about.

she propels forward, pushing up on the tips of her toes, and kisses kara.

kara's arms are around her, hands holding her, body engulfing her.

soft lips slide against hers, press upon her, permanently transforming the chemistry of her body with the way that kara is now part of her.

when they break apart, she only grins at the dazed expression on kara's face.

"you...you like me too?"

she is beaming because of course she likes kara too, likes her more than like. so she answers by kissing kara again.

for their first date, kara takes her to a small italian hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

"this is my favorite italian spot in the city. in the state, actually. maybe even the country!" kara exclaims, excitedly talking and gesticulating but making sure that their hands stay interlaced with one another.

when they get there, they're seated right away, a young woman seating them in the back booth.

"hi, kara. table for 2?"

kara nods and lena watches. "you come here often?" she asks.

"yeah. i hit this place up at least a couple times a month. good thing my metabolism allows me to eat as much pasta as i want. the chef in the back makes it fresh every day."

amidst drinking wine and twirling their forks in their pasta, kara is leaning closer to her, the two of them sitting adjacent to each other, their elbows grazing each other on the corner.

when they finish, kara pays, insists on it, and asks if they can stop by the kitchen to pay compliments to the chef. with hands still intertwined, kara pushes the swinging door forward, and calls for chef nina.

lena watches as kara releases her hold of lena and approaches the short and frumpy old lady who only wipes her hands on a stained white apron before opening her arms up to receive kara's hug.

over kara's shoulder, the old lady winks at lena.

and lena?

well, she just laughs and laughs, kisses kara on the lips, and hugs the old lady.

#anonymous #replies #supercorp #fic ask meme #samficlet #this is so long it doesn't make sense im sorry but it's the only idea i have in my mind for it and it won't leave me alone

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grxceful-ly · 1 year

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peter bringing mayday with him to do spider stuff because yeah, he had things to live for before--but now he has a child and he is going to raise this child and be there for her and maybe if she’s there, strapped to his chest, he’ll be more careful. he’ll consider his life almost as precious as hers. maybe bringing mayday to work is a precaution.

#disclaimer: it's like 2am and i don't know what i just wrote because my brain won't function enough to read it over again #i also have read like zero spiderman comics so if this doesn't make sense because canon already speaks on it #i'm sorry #atsv spoilers #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #peter b parker #mayday #i am having thoughts #PLEASE BLOCK APPROPRIATE TAGS IF YOU DON"T WANNA BE SPOILED PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU #miles morales #into the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman spoilers #this thought came about because i think swinging around with a child is the stupidest/coolest thing ever #and i feel like peter wouldn't do it without a reason #anyway sorry for the random change in fandoms i saw the movie tonight and it was fantastic #also #catch me crying in the theatre because peter wants his daughter to turn out like miles #OKAY IM DONE SPAMMING THE TAGS NOW BYE #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spiderverse

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bluesey-182 · 14 days

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i feel like "take me back to eden" is sleep token's most Stadium™️ song. and i don't mean like they wrote it with the sole intent of it being played in a stadium, i mean it in the sense that it's such an expansive song that it begs to be played in a large space. in needs all of that room, like it's a big exhale of breath. it feels like the first song where you can tell vessel is breathing freely. the burden is lifted.

but also imagine it being played live with a full orchestra. I'd have to be wheeled out on a stretcher

#sleep token #text post #sorry if this doesn't make sense im trying to write it between showering and needing to run to the store asap

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andloveistoolong · 10 months

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Listen, I've spent the last three weeks in a constant state of emotional turmoil over Anthony J. Crowley, and have been having a lot of thoughts about identity. There's just something so...

Something about, "I know the angel you were." Something about, "The angel you knew is not me." Because that angel has been erased, and I haven't really figured out who I am now. That angel might as well not have existed, so why does it matter? Something about naming a thing is what gives it power.

Something about NAMES.

You were granted a name, but that name was stripped from you when you were cast out. You were assigned another name, but you rejected it. You chose your own name. You choose your own form. You give yourself power.

Something about religious trauma, and rejection from society, and recreating yourself from ashes and dust and clay...

#sorry if this doesn't make any sense #im just #lots of thots #good omens #anthony j crowley #gos2 #good omens spoilers #crowley #good omens meta

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nukabrain · 6 days

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3 Partners, 1 Night, and 1 Saloon.

Oh my god guys so much happened during the past 2 weeks. FIRST, I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, WE WERE MOVING AND I HAD FINALS N SHIT BUT IT'S ALL OVER!! IT'S SUMMER. AND I WAS ALSO WORKING ON THIS PIECE! ITS ONE OF MY FIRST LONG PIECE! To be honest, I'm not sure if I really want to post it, or leave it to marinate overnight and then proofread it. BUT I haven't posted in so long :C I don't wanna keep my new followers waiting. (I threw it in grammerly and checked it that way, hopefully that was enough. OKKKK GO READ GOGOGOGOGO!!!

PAIRING: Arthur x Reader, Charles x Reader, Javier x Reader TYPE: Male x Female Reader WRITING: Fluff, Slight Angst, and suggestive. (Just a buncha kisses) WARNINGS: None. WORD COUNT: 1.8k

PROMPT(s): Charles x Reader; charles not being to hold eye contact but the reader can; Javier x Reader, TV GIRL!! (I lied, I only kissed a few hundred) (I know.); Arthur x Reader, "Scary? My god you're divine" but in old western terms.

NOTE: The video below is a saloon ambience video that I have been listening to the entire time while writing this, so I thought I could use this to add to the experience. (Lmk if you guys like this) Also, when it switches ladies, they start back at the beginning (if that isn't too confusing)

SETTING: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FgaOFVuf1q0 I’ll tell you when to turn down the volume, for a better experience! (IF you don't trust the link, which is normal, just look up "Rowdy Saloon Ambience | Ragtime Piano I Bar Ambience")

(Highest Volume)

Friday night at the saloon. It was a lively night, the piano playing ragtime, ladies giggling and fawning over the good-looking drunk men, and bottles clinking all around. A gunshot was heard but nobody paid attention beside the man being shot.

A group of girls were huddling in the corner, chattering like everyone else and paying no mind to the average man trying to lead them upstairs. One of the women whispered, “I’m telling you he’s goin’ to bring his outlaw friends here.”

“Really? And you trust him?” the other gave her friend a questioning look.

“I thought you knew better, and it doesn’t help the fact that he’s an outlaw.” The last lady sighed.

“Don’t you know it’s ALWAYS the outlaws that are the most gorgeous me- OH there he is!” The lady shouted, waving her arms. “Arthur! Over here!”

The man turned around and waved back. He muttered a few words to the guys behind him before making his way over here.

“Hello Ms. [name], nice to see you again.” Arthur tipped his hat “And hello to you fine ladies as well.”

. . .

Y/N x Charles Smith

“Well hello to you too Mister” I nodded my head.

She was right, these men are smokin' HOT

I looked around and noticed one of the boys looking a little nervous. Not out of place, but more like he has no idea what to do. I just know he’s gonna be a ball of sunshine.

“Well then folks..” I announced, grabbing that man by the wrist. “I’ll be picking this one! Seeya!”

Charles stumbled over his feet, turning to his friends for help, but Arthur waved back and Javier gave him 2 thumbs up.

“W-Wait- where are we going?”

“Up to you… I’m sorry that was rude of me, what is your name? Names Y/N!”

“M’name is Charles… Charles Smith.”

“Well then, Mr. Smith, where would you like to spend this fine evening?”

He thinks for a bit, before asking “They have whiskey up in the rooms?”

I grinned “Of course, follow me!”

I weave through the crowd, dodging the elbows and hands. I glance back to see the poor man bumping into everyone, and apologizing. Signaling him to keep following, I ran up the stairs and hid ourselves in one of the empty rooms.

(Volume almost all the way down, should sound muffled.)

“Here.” I poured him a shot of whiskey. “Much quieter up here. We were the first up so I made sure to pick the best room.”

Charles pounds the glass. “What are the other rooms like?”

“Oh, one of them has a weird scent to it. I mean most people are too drunk to notice it by then but it’s a little weird. The others are just smaller.”

“That makes sense.”

A familiar laugh and giggle ran past your room followed by a couple of door slams.

“Hmm, it seems you boys are quick to do it tonight.” I chuckled, turning to face Charles.

We stood there, finally taking the time to properly take each other's appearance in. His skin reflected the moonlight, and his hair perfectly fell over his face. Our eyes met, and I smiled gently, my heart beating against my chest. He breaks away first, clearing his throat as an excuse.

Giggling, I whispered “Oh come here silly.”

I walked up to him and smushed our faces together. He was shocked, but I could feel his hand creep up on my waist, gently guiding me closer. I wrapped my hands around his neck and took a breath of air.

“You’re a good kisser, Mr.Smith,” I whispered

“I think this is where you can call me Charles, milady.” He muttered back

I latched my lips on his neck, eliciting a groan from the man. Leaning up towards his ear, I breathed out “You’re right, Charles.”

Hearing his breath hitch, I quickly went in for that second kiss. It was more hungry this time, instead of enjoying it gently, he was ravaging me like a starved wolf. His grip on my waist tightened, and his other hand found its way to my inner thigh.

The night certainly isn’t gonna end anytime soon.

Y/N x Javier Escuella (Volume back up to OG level)

“Hello.” I nodded my head. I looked around and noticed my friend already picked out the one she wanted. I sighed, knowing that there was no stopping her once she had a target.

“Well then folks..” she announces, grabbing that man by the wrist. “I’ll be picking this one! Seeya!”

“Oh my, she didn’t wait.” I chuckled, watching them disappear in the crowd.

“You sure Charles goin’ to be alright?” Arthur muttered

“Oh he’ll be fine, she may be fast but she’ll slow down if he wants to.” My friend reassures Mr. Morgan.

“Well if we’re picking people out..”

I turned to the man speaking, he had a bowl hat on and a vest suit. He was dressed a little well for the saloon.

Kissing my hand, he introduced himself as Javier Escuella.

Beautiful name.. I thought, covering my blushing face.

“Look at you two!” My friend gushed, making me groan. “You guys look perfect together.”

“Thank you, but we’ll be heading to the bar.” I waved her off, taking Mr. Escuella by the arm, and made my way through the crowd, picking a seat near the wall.

Mr. Escuella waves the bartender over. “Is there anything you wanna drink?” He winks. “It's on me of course.”

“A Sarsaparilla will do.” I smiled

“-and beer for me.” He nodded.

I put my head on my hands, listening to the music. I glanced at Escuella

“Hey did you know I kissed a thousand women before?” He flaunts “I’m a wanted man.”

“I’m sure you’re wanted for a different reason Mr. Escuella.”

“Mi amor there’s no need to mention my OTHER wanted status.” He whines. “But really, the ladies love me.”

I sipped my drink, waving him off as he boasted about himself. Even though, there's a certain charm to him that I can’t figure out. My eyes trace his figure, taking in his build figure, and his silly mustache, and eventually land at his eyes, which are staring right at me.

“Like what you see amor?”

I snapped out of it, crossing my arms in protest.

“I was staring at the wall.”

Finishing the last drop of his beer, he replied “You sure? It looked like you were staring at mi hermoso rostro~”

I downed my Sarsaparilla, slamming it on the counter as a response. I glanced at the stairs and saw my friend dragging her date up into the rooms.

I hopped off the stool and dusted off my dress. “Meet me upstairs darling,” I whispered in his ear, trailing my finger on his chest.

I could hear him rustle to get his money as I weaved through the crowd. He followed shortly after and we settled in one of the rooms.

(Volume almost all the way down, should sound muffled.)

I leaned against the wall as he quickly shut the door. I watched him take off his jacket and hat. I helped him take off his tie and wondered why he dressed so fine just for a saloon date. I lifted my head and caught his gaze.

“Y’know, I lied when I said I kissed a thousand women.”

“I know.”

“I only kissed two or three hundred.” He corrected himself. I snort in response. “What about you? How many men have you kissed?”

“Only a few,” I replied, closing the distance.

Did I know why I kissed him? Perhaps his charming behavior seduced me. I didn’t think, all I did was act on my urges. My back was pressed against the wall, and my hands wrapped around his face. I feel his hands graze my waist as we take a break for air. Escuella went in for the second kiss right away, smooth and gentle, unlike his personality. His hands roamed my lower half as I gasped.

“So why did you kiss me?”

I smiled softly, before snickering. “For a foolish reason, I suppose.”

Javier swooped me off my feet. “For whatever reason, I’m glad you kissed me mi amor.”

This is going to be a long night.

Arthur x Reader (Volume back at OG level)

“It’s so nice to see you again Arthur, I almost thought you weren’t coming.” I playfully slap his arm

“Well miss we were stopped by certain people.” he excuses himself

“Sure sure, oh there he goes.” I wave at the man my friend is dragging.

“You sure Charles goin’ to be alright?” Arthur muttered

“Oh he’ll be fine, she may be fast but she’ll slow down if he wants to,” I said, reassuring Mr. Morgan.

“Well if we’re picking people out..”

I turned around, seeing my friend and Mr. Escuella, having quite the chemistry together.

“Look at you two!” I gushed, making her groan. “You guys look perfect together.”

“Thank you, but we’ll be heading to the bar.” She waved me off, taking Mr. Escuella by the arm, and blended in with the crowd.

“That was exciting! I’m so glad they found their partners!” I clapped my hands together

“I knew Charles was worrying too much.” Arthur chuckles “Talkin’ about spooking them away n’ stuff.”

“No way, he looks like a ball of sunshine.”

“A dangerous ball of sunshine then”

I snickered, “Damn right.”

We stayed there for a bit, basking in the lively atmosphere. I leaned my head on his shoulder and felt him flinch. I giggled at the reaction.

“Wanna get outta here?”

“Like in a room or outside?”

“The sky’s beautiful tonight.”

I laugh, following him out of the saloon.

The chatter and music slowly fade into the distance as you make your way to an alleyway.

(Volume almost all the way down, you should barely hear it.)

“Hmmm” I hummed, “You’re right, night’s gorgeous. Reminds me of you.”

“Now that’s something I never heard, being compared to the night’s sky.”

I snuck a glance at Arthur and saw that he wanted to say something, and I knew what. He wanted to ask why.

“That’s cause’ everyone thinks the night is scary, but it’s not. Look at em' stars.”

Arthur sighs “But the night is scary, plains creeping with bad men with bad intentions.”

“Hmm, you’re also right on that.” I turned around and faced Arthur

“But the bad men don’t disappear in the daytime, do they? So what’s the difference between night and day.”

I swing my hands over his shoulder and around his neck.

“I’m one of those bad men [name].”

“Bad? Oh Arthur you are downright heavenly. Whatever stuff you did, I’m sure they had a reason.”

Arthur sat there, slightly shocked. He looked in my eyes for any sign of doubt but couldn’t find a single drop.

“Now if you’re done lookin’ at me, how about we get moving-”

Was shut off by a kiss, strong but gentle, like he was saying thank you for seeing something in him that he never saw. The break didn’t last long as I leaned into him for the second round.

A beautiful night indeed.

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