I think the death weirdos should hang out
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Me five minutes into any Zelda game:
Credit to @linkeduniverse
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Leo frowns at his phone.
Or more specifically, at the test on his phone.
Around him, he hears the sound of his brothers tapping their own devices, much faster than he is. Looking up just makes Leo feel worse about his own progress - or lack-thereof.
Mikey’s the fastest, speeding through the test like nobody’s business. He’d been the one to make them all do this stupid test in the first place, so it makes sense that he’s having a blast.
Raph’s slower than Mikey is, but he’s still clearly answering the questions at a steady pace. Sometimes he looks unsure, but he powers through anyway.
Donnie often looks frustrated, which relieves Leo somewhat because at least someone is struggling like him. But that “struggle” isn’t nearly as big as his own, considering that Donnie is answering about as fast as Raph is.
Leo turns his gaze back down to his own test. He’s still near the beginning, he thinks.
He’d put the same answer for the past seven questions - the middle of the road answer, neither a “yes” or a “no.” Then, whenever he does come across one that is more one direction than the other, he second guesses himself and restarts the test!
Sure, there are a few he could definitely give a yes or a no to, but…never the “strongly agree” or “strongly disagree” that the test seemed to want from him.
He eyes his twin sitting nearby, the softshell absorbed in the test. Maybe Leo should copy what Donnie put for some of these…
“DONE!” Mikey’s shout makes Leo freeze in place just as he started to lean over.
“What?” Donnie squawks, “No way you’re already finished, you must’ve been cheating!”
“It’s a personality test, Dee!” Mikey stuck his tongue out, “You can’t cheat at those!”
…
Leo settles back into his seat.
Ignoring Donnie’s mutterings about how it was “just because it’s not an academic test” that he didn’t finish first, Raph smiles encouragingly at Mikey.
“Hey, good job! So what’d you get, Mike?”
Mikey looks back down at his test, reading aloud, “Says that I got the “Campaigner”!”
“What’s that mean?” Leo asks, his phone screen going dark.
“Apparently, I’m an “enthusiastic, creative, and sociable free-spirit”.” Mikey reads, smiling at them, “You think it fits?”
“Oh, to a T, bro!” Leo laughs, giving Mikey a thumbs up, making Mikey’s smile grow larger.
Inside, Leo was feeling a lot more mixed about this. He has no idea how Mikey knew himself so well. Maybe Donnie was right and Mikey did cheat, because how could he answer those questions so easily?
Leo’s phone burns in his hand. He keeps it locked.
“Wow, that really is you.” Raph says, his eyes flitting back and forth between his own test and Mikey, “Do you think it fits?”
“I guess? It’s fun to see at least!” Mikey shrugs with a grin.
“Hold on, I think…” Raph makes a noise of satisfaction, “Okay, done!”
“Sigh, now I’m relegated to the straggler group.” Donnie grumbles, his thumbs moving faster as he tries rushing through the questions.
“Ooh, what’d you get Raph?” Mikey asks, practically bouncing in curiosity.
“Says, uh…I got something called the “Consul”?” He squints his eyes to read more, “Uh, “caring, social, and community-minded.””
“Sounds about right to me.” Leo nods. Can’t be more “community-minded” than being a hero.
“Yeah, no one’s more caring than you, Raphie!” Mikey says, moving to lean across Raph’s shell.
“You do put the community in mind, that’s for sure.” Donnie states, not looking up.
Raph chuckles, a bit embarrassed, “Aw, thanks. It’s just some test, but it feels kinda good to hear that.”
Just a test. Right.
Leo unlocks his screen.
The test stares back at him.
Right. Okay. He can do this. He can.
The screen ends up going dark again.
Frustration builds up in Leo. Was he even halfway done with the test? At this rate, soon even Donnie will-
“FINISHED.”
Leo unlocks his phone.
“What’d you get, DonTon?” Leo asks as his thumb taps the top right of the screen.
Donnie puffs up proudly, a self sure grin on his face, “I got the result “Logician” which states that I, obviously, am an “innovative inventor with a thirst for knowledge.” Truly could not have described me better, if I do say so myself.”
“It is pretty accurate.” Raph agrees with a nod, “Even calls you an inventor, so extra accurate.”
“Super accurate.” Mikey jumps in, eyes shining.
“Yes, yes, almost like reading my own character synopsis.” Donnie’s grin had not dwindled since the word “innovative” had left his mouth.
Leo just nods along, eyes on his own screen as he skims the words. “Yeah, kinda creepy how close it got. Could have called you a nerd for extra accuracy, though.”
Donnie turns to him, eyes narrowing, “Have you even finished your test? I can think of a few words that’d describe you fairly well.”
“Test-y, huh?”
Before Donnie can strangle Leo, Raph cuts in.
“Ok, ok, calm it down, guys.” He rolls his eyes before turning to Leo. “But really, you’re not done yet?”
“Leo’s taking this self reflection seriously.” Mikey sports a faux intellectual expression as he gives a jokingly serious nod. “Maybe we all should’ve taken our time.”
“Says the one who sped through the whole thing in a record time.” Donnie mutters.
Leo waves them all off, “Nah, I finished it ages ago.”
He grins when Donnie immediately shoots him a suspicious glare. “Oh, you did, did you? Then what could you have possibly gotten, Nardo?”
“I’m glad you asked!” Leo clears his throat, “Neon Leon just so happens to be an “Entertainer.””
“Ah. That confirms it. This test is meaningless.” Donnie drones.
“Hey-“
“What’s an Entertainer like?” Mikey asks with a tilt of his head, still hanging off of Raph’s shell.
“Glad you asked, Miguel!” Leo exclaims, “It says that “life is never boring” around yours truly~”
He emphasizes this “result” of his by waving his phone with said “result” on screen.
It’s just an image he found of his chosen personality result, but they don’t need to know that.
Raph nods slowly, “Well, I guess that’s true…”
“”Never boring” is one way to put it.” Donnie hums.
“You are pretty fun, Leo!” Mikey says emphatically, because he’s great like that.
“Thank you, thank you, life of the party, right here.” Leo grins, pointing both thumbs at himself.
He’s careful not to go too overboard with it, or else it might tip someone off.
Not that it…really matters. It’s just a test. Like Raph said.
As the topic around him shifts to something else, jumping away from this brief activity as fast as any other among them, Leo finds himself unlocking his phone and pulling up the test again.
Unanswered questions stare at him. He knows what answers Lou Jitsu would pick. He knows what answers Jupiter Jim would pick. Hell, he knows exactly what answers his brothers would pick.
He doesn’t know what answers Leonardo would pick.
Leo stares at the test for a second longer, before he exits the site and throws himself into the conversation happening around him.
It’s just a stupid test, nothing to worry about.
Just a test…
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limitless (satoru gojo x reader)
notes: uh. should be working on my halloween fic lmaoo. but uh. thought i'd bang this out. inspired by a conversation with @shotorus about the names we use to refer to certain characters in narration. lmao.
contains: fem! reader (the only physical trait is that reader is shorter than gojo, gojo almost uses a gendered term for reader, but is cut off), established relationship (me: coughs up blood), typical gojo antics, nickname usage (darling, honey, sweetheart, babe), part of the infinite loop fic verse
wc: around 720
"...I have a question."
You look at Gojo expectantly. Normally, he just says whatever is on his mind without pause, without filter, so you don't get why he's standing on ceremony right now. "Yeah?"
"We're dating, aren't we?" he asks.
You nearly spit out your drink. He's not wrong; for better or worse, he is your boyfriend now. The fact of it is actually kind of unbelievable when you think about it. Not just you dating Satoru Gojo. But you dating Satoru Gojo. If you had told yourself that it would have come to this ten years ago, even five years ago, you would have thought yourself a liar.
Now he's the one giving you the expectant look, his lips curved upward that little smile that always manages to get your blood boiling. The cocky bastard probably just wants you to admit it.
You consider saying 'no' just for the hell of it.
You decide not to. It feels almost as if you’re pulling teeth when you respond, “...we…are.”
Gojo’s mouth puckers and you brace yourself knowing full well that he’s about to start whining about something. There’s always something with this guy…"If we’re dating, then why am I still just 'Gojo' to you? I call you by your first name!"
"You've always called me by my first name," you dead pan.
"That's because I've always loved you!"
You roll your eyes. You know that's a lie, but you don't intend to argue with him— at least not head on because you know that it’s just going to lead to a dead end. "No, you love disregarding proper social etiquette. Or rather, you don't see the point in it."
"Oh, darling, you know me so well!" Gojo gives you a saccharine smile and you almost gag.
"Don't call me that."
He pouts. "Well, if you say I always call you by name, shouldn't I call you something else to show how special you are to me?"
"...no, actually, just my name is fine." A nickname from Gojo sounds dangerous. The thought of being called some cutesy nickname in front of everyone you know is mortifying. In fact, Gojo would do it solely to embarrass you.
So, naturally, he ignores you. "If darling is no good, what about... babe? Honey?"
"Gojo, really, you don't—"
"Sweetheart? My love? Oh, I know, I bet you'd love to be called pr—"
"Satoru."
He immediately stops talking, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. You didn't think that that would have that much of an effect to be honest. For once, it feels like you have the upper hand. You make sure to savor the moment because you know they are far and few in between.
"Just my name is fine," you repeat. "...okay?"
He gulps and answers, "...okay."
You try not to let your mind linger on the fact that his voice just now was lower than usual. "Good. So—"
"Say it again."
You blink. "Huh."
"My name," Gojo says, his voice thick with emotion. "Say it again."
When you don't say anything he takes a step toward you, the infinite cosmos in his eyes staring you down. You feel defiant. It's not fair of him to ask you anything when he looks and sounds like this. Gojo takes another step closer and you think that if you're adamant about not giving in to him you better do it before he gets too close.
"You've... " you start and hate how breathless you sound. This bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to you. "You've hit your daily limit."
Gojo pouts and takes another step. "Well, that's not fair."
"You're not fair," you retort.
He doesn't argue and you take that as Gojo admitting that he's playing dirty. "I think you should up the limit."
You hold your ground as he takes one more step closer.. "No. You think there shouldn't be a limit."
Gojo chuckles and leans down to bridge the rest of the distance between you. He cups your cheek, bringing your face closer to him. Your breath stills as you feel his own on you and it’s damn near intoxicating. His mouth is barely touching yours and your thoughts shift from trying to keep the banter going to how the slightest movement from either of you will result in a kiss.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours. “There shouldn’t.”
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no it's fine this mind flayer is totally my friend and 100% honest with me all the time it's ok it likes me everything's so normal
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Las nevadas concepts
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The news has reached me that there are canon female custodes, and that the reactions have been mmm well, mixed. I don’t play custodes on tabletop but i do love the faction, and i think it’s an interesting and harmless little addition to the setting. Somewhere in the mists of time some custodes put his genhanced transhuman mind to work and asked himself “What if instead of just taking boy babies for the Full Genome Restructuring Into An Exalted Demigod…what if we took all the babies.” Now we have the Golden Roughly Twenty Thousand, double the protection for the Emperor😌
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Bernie Sanders finally made a statement, on Nov. 4, calling for a "pause" in the bombing. People in the replies are saying "better late than never!" and I don't even know where to start.
The genocide has been going on for almost a month. Over 9,000 men, women, and children have been murdered. Thousands more have been wounded. Members of press and healthcare and their families have been deliberately targeted and assassinated. Israel has been murdering civilians en masse with impunity for weeks, both lying about it and blatantly admitting to it. 100+ Palestinians have been murdered in the West Bank due to settler terrorism backed by the Israeli army.
In an interview, Dr. Ofer Cassif, the Knesset member who was suspended for calling for an end to Israeli violence against Palestinians, revealed that he'd reached out to Bernie months prior to Oct. 7th because of the pogroms being carried out by Israelis against Palestinians which he said would result with an "explosion [of violence]", but received no response.
what the fuck do you mean "better late than never". what the fuck do you mean? the genocide is still ongoing, and, just like Blinken, Biden, and every complicit ghoul, he's calling for a pause. not a ceasefire. a ceasefire is just the start of what needs to happen. but he hasn't even called for that.
"better late than never" what gives you the fucking right to say that? tell that to the 10,000 people who the U.S. and its allies allowed Israel to murder. tell that to the thousands of wounded. tell that to the thousands who have been displaced. tell that to the people of Gaza who have been without food, water, and fuel for WEEKS. tell that to the Palestinians in the West Bank who are being murdered at the hands of settler terrorists. tell that to the Palestinians who were abducted and tortured and released with blue bands around their ankles. tell that to the Palestinians in occupied Palestine who can't reach their families and friends. tell that to Palestinians in diaspora who have seen their families, their friends, their people slaughtered with the full backing and support of the vast majority of western governments and media.
"better late than never" no, it's not good enough. IT'S NOT. there are SO many people around the world - both citizens and members of government - who recognized the injustice for what it was the DAY the bombing started. we owe the Palestinian people so much more than that. "better late than never" the ONLY thing that could POSSIBLY begin to even "make up" for the horrors and injustices inflicted upon the Palestinian people for almost a century is to end the genocide, end the occupation, end the apartheid, end settler colonialism, and dismantle the colonial state. Palestinians deserve NO LESS than total emancipation. Complete liberation. until then, it is not and will never be enough.
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I've moved and want to get a library card, but my id doesn't have my current address and no mail has my name. Do I just have to wait
According to two of my local libraries' websites, they would also accept other proofs of address such as bank statements, utility bills, or rent/mortgage receipts.
That might not be universal though, so I would suggest getting in contact with your library or checking their website to get a more definite answer for you.
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rewatching the first episode of Hannibal and holy shit I forgot how good this is but it's actually insane that Brian fuller set up the ep like this, he introduces will and Hannibal by first briefly showing them at their core, at the darkest, most vile part of them---we get a glimpse behind the curtain---and then its gone, the curtain is snapped shut and we see their masks, their human suits.
Will empathizes with killers because he likes it, and he wants to kill but he refuses to give into the urge because he knows how much he'll like it and he won't be able to stop. So he lives vicariously through other killers, satisfying his own dark urge by feeding it little morsels of secondhand blood lust. Every crime scene he works gives the urge something that satisfies it, not enough for it to grow, but enough for it be sate. Enough that he can ignore it for long enough that he can walk around and be Professor Will Graham who is Weird, Brash, and Non-sociable.
And Hannibal is a cannibal at night and a psychiatrist by morning.
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prank gone wrong (viral!) (steddie)
Eddie’s been someone’s dirty little secret before.
He’s got a type, okay? Unfortunately hot jocks are often the type of asshole to get sucked off behind the bleacher and then turn around and spit in his face about it. Going right back to their friends to talk shit about what a freak Eddie is, never mind the fact that his mouth still tastes like their nasty fucking jizz. He’s used to it by now. Used to people who pretend they barely know each other. He’s not asking they parade their relationship for the whole town to see, just someone who doesn’t pretend they’re strangers. Is that too much to ask?
He’s so fucking stupid. He really thought this time would be different.
Steve Harrington barreled into his life like a goddamn train and Eddie’s been derailed ever since.
The first time he met Steve he was six. Eddie still lived with his mom, and she took him to the park, where he met a little boy who wrinkled his nose and told him he smelled bad. Steve does not remember this, and turned red with mortification the first time Eddie told him
After that incredible hit to baby Eddie’s self-esteem, they didn’t interact much, existing on the periphery of each others lives. He figured it didn’t matter. Harrington was a year under him, and a douche besides. Was ready to leave town from the moment he learned to walk. As soon as he graduated, he could finally get the hell out of this place and never think about the assholes he went to school with again.
His mom leaves. His dad gets arrested. He moves in with his Uncle Wayne, who only has one bedroom in his trailer and won’t take no for an answer when he gives it to Eddie.
Eddie doesn’t graduate.
(Harrington comes back to school different after Byers beats him up. Eddie doesn’t notice. He’s got bigger things to worry about.)
They don’t talk in Eddie’s second run of senior year either. He hears the gossip, sees him come to school with stitches in his forehead and no girlfriend. Still, it’s none of his damn business. He rolls his eyes at the rumors and stays far away from Billy Hargrove.
Steve Harrington graduates. Eddie doesn’t.
And this is where his careful distance falls apart.
It’s the mall’s fault of course. What isn’t? Businesses closing down, rent going up, his resolve crumbling. All over some fucking ice cream. God, Eddie should have just turned around. Left the store and the mall and the entire damn town behind.
He’s aware he’s being melodramatic, but in his defense he’s queer in Indiana. He has a right to be.
Anyways, the point is that Eddie saw Harrington’s little blue shorts and red lips and cannot be held responsible for what happened after.
(They fucked. That’s what happened. They fucked, and kept fucking, and then after the mall burned down Steve showed up on his doorstep with suspiciously placed bruises and his coworker and looked at Eddie with pleading eyes. He didn’t even bring Robin home to her parents like a sensible person, just insisted on having her there because they were a package deal now and couldn’t be separated. Like puppies, Robin said when he looked at her. Last he checked, she wanted to bite Steve’s head off, and now they were attached at the hip?
He got used to it quickly. He had to. She comes on half their dates. Steve’s lucky he’s so cute.)
Now, nearly five months after Steve served him ice cream for the first time, he feels his heart shatter in the Hawkins High parking lot.
“Harrington,” Dustin shouts, and it carries across the empty lot. Steve’s head jerks up and he waves, Robin standing beside him. “Steve, c’mere!”
Steve tilts his head. “What?”
“Come. Here.” Dustin repeats, enunciating clearly. Mike and Lucas look at him like he’s insane. So do Gareth, Jeff, and Chuck.
Steve, who is standing a mere 20 feet away, turns to Robin and says something that makes her snort. Eddie can practically hear his bitchy murmur.
“Is that Harrington’s girlfriend?” He hears Gareth ask. He has to swallow his laughter.
“Yes,” Dustin says.
“No,” Mike corrects.
“He won’t admit anything, but he always has a bunch of hickies and stuff after hanging out with her,” Lucas clarifies, because half the time when Steve says he’s hanging out with Robin he's actually with Eddie. The fact that Robin is usually still there is irrelevant. Marking up his boyfriend is one of his favorite pastimes. He refuses to let his boyfriend’s “soulmate” get in the way just because she refuses to sleep in one of the Harrington’s fancy guest rooms like a normal person unless he kicks her out. The way they both pout at him for it is fucking ridiculous. He ends up giving in half the time, and then lies awake and cold on the very edge of the bed because Robin starfishes her way across the rest and Steve is a blanket hog.
The first time he tried giving Steve a hickey as some kind of dominance move for privacy, Robin stared him dead in the eye and didn’t back down.
“I can do that too,” she said, and promptly bit Steve on the shoulder. Steve, who was shirtless and already slightly dazed from Eddie’s ministrations, let out an honest to God squeak. Like a dog toy. Eddie and Robin both stared at him before breaking into loud cackles that had a blushing Steve yelling at them before finally burrowing under the covers and refusing to come out. Needless to say, Eddie didn’t get laid that night.
“Harring-ton,” Dustin whines.
“I’m literally right here. You come here.”
He did, if only to grab Steve by the wrist and drag him to where everyone else was standing. Steve squawks. “When we’re late for dinner with Ma, I’m telling her it was your fault—“
“I want you to meet everyone!”
“I went to school with them!”
“Yeah, but they think you’re still a dick,” he says, as if they’re not standing right there. Steve is similarly engrossed in their conversation, not even noticing that Dustin’s stopped walking.
“They can think whatever—“ he walks right into Eddie and lets out a startled oof. Eddie, who let it happen, catches him as he flails.
“Well hello to you too,” he says, not bothering to hide his amusement.
Steve looks at him with wide eyes, gaze dropping down to his lips before whirling around and snapping, “Henderson!”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“I didn’t do anything,” Lucas mimics under his breath, ducking behind Steve when Dustin turns around with the fury of a thousand suns in his eyes.
He just stands there, hands on his hips as the kids bicker around him.
“Oh, so now we can talk?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, brow furrowed like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about.
Eddie can’t help but laugh, a sharp sound that makes Steve jump. “What do you think it means, Harrington? You never want to talk to me in front of the kids! Don’t want to dirty your hands with the Freak in public, I guess.”
“I…what are you talking about?”
[no talkie henderosn]
“What?” His eyes get wide, panicked, as he reaches for Eddie. “Eddie, that’s not—you have to know that’s not what I meant by that. I never meant it like that!”
“Then how did you mean it?”
Steve mumbles something he can’t make out.
“Speak up, sweetheart.” It comes out mean, he knows it does, but he’s feeling a little mean right now. Lashing out like a wounded animal just because his boyfriend didn’t want to talk to him in public.
Actually, when he puts it that way, he remembers he’s justified.
Steve says something again, still incomprehensible. Eddie rolls his eyes. “If you can’t stop mumbling, I’ll just leave.”
That does the trick. “I thought we were playing a prank on Henderson together!”
Eddie gapes at him. “What?”
“I thought,” he repeats, running an anxious hand through his hair, “we were pretending not to know each other to mess with the kid. Eddie, baby, you’ve gotta know I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were hurting. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t I…” This can’t be real. He’s been agonizing for months, and for what? A prank? Just some stupid, shitty prank Steve thought he was in on? He’s going to jump off the quarry. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have had so much fun with that!”
“I thought you knew!”
“How would I have known? I can’t read your mind!”
“You can sometimes,” he says, pouting. Eddie wishes they weren’t in the middle of an argument, he wants to kiss those lips so bad.
He groans into his hands. “It’s significantly easier to tell when your boyfriend wants to fuck than it is to read ‘Hey, let’s play a prank on this twelve year old,’ on someone’s face, sweetheart.”
“I guess,” Steve huffs. Then his face softens. Eddie lets himself be drawn in by the wrist, helpless in the face of his sweet smile. “We can stop,” he promises, swaying in close enough for his breath to ghost across Eddie’s lips. “We could walk into Hellfire tomorrow holding hands, if you wanted to. Anything you want, just say the word.”
“How would we walk into Hellfire? It’s at your house.”
Steve pinches him for that.
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