Summary: Both of you are pro heroes in your prime. But after a gut-wrenching dream, Bakugo considers other plans for his life with you.
This is an alternate happy ending of 'Beside You' cause I don't want my readers to be depressed. 😭
I recommend reading that first but it can be a stand alone.
Part 1 (Sorta) 》 'Beside You'
TW: Implied deaths, Children (idk if that considered a tw but oh well)
Bakugo's vision starts to dim as he holds you under all the rubble of the collapsed building.
Even though he couldn't save the both of you, he wants to make sure the last thing he sees is his wife angelic face.
It's a shitty way to die. The both of you impaled by a metal bar with no way of escaping and an even smaller chance of survival. Yet, but at least he had you with him.
"I couldn't imagine breathing without you, Kats.." you say in cutting breaths as you use all of your remaining strength to hold him close. Smiling weakly, knowing at least you'd go together.
"Good thing we don't have to, princess." Bakugo heaves out, saying your nickname for the last time as he presses his lips onto yours. Taking each other's last breath...
"PA!"
Bakugo wakes up in a jolt as he gets smacked in the face. Sitting up with a teary-eyed face.
He looks and finds the culprit of his stolen slumber, or savior from that horrible nightmare.
"Papa didn't want to wake up, and Mama said to smack you if you didn't." the blonde and crimson eyed little girl says as she scrambles onto the bed and into his lap.
Katsumi looks at her father's face. For a 6 year old, she is very emotionally perceptive. "Is Papa alright?" She says, reaching to touch his face.
Although the grogginess still lingers, he gives her a big and long embrace.
"I'm fine, princess. Your Pops just had a nightmare, is all." He says while giving her a rare genuine smile. Thank fuck it was a dream.
He held her for what seemed like ages, and yet she didn't mind; after all, she was still your daughter too. Her kindness is genetic.
However, it was not long after that the emotional silence was ruined.
"KATSUKI IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS UP," your voice projects from the kitchen as the smell of breakfast lingers. The two blondes share a laugh before getting off the bed.
Bakugo picks Katsumi up in his arms. "Cmon, our queen is waiting." He says while heading towards the kitchen; using his upgraded nickname for you after you had Katsumi.
He never thought he'd end up here, with kids and a loving wife who hasn't gotten tired of him yet.
Even if the dream was different by the two of you not having Katsumi, his heart still warmed that at least you were the thing that didn't change in his life.
Bakugo is so deep into thought about the dream that he didn't notice he arrived at the kitchen. Guess the dream really opened his eyes about the hero work the two of you been doing.
"Kats?" You say concerned at his blank gaze and hold on Kastumi. His attention now back to reality after your voice.
"You alright, honey?" You say while grabbing Katsumi from his arm and placing her in the chair seated next to her infant brother's high chair. Babbling away like infants do.
Before you can even turn back around to him, he attacks you with a hug. You look at your daughter questionably, but she only shrugs and continues to feed her brother.
"You alright there, you big oaf? ...Kats?" You say before turning around and seeing his teary-eyed face.
"Shut up." He says quickly so he can avoid your questioning. You only sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around him, too.
"Do I at least get to know what this is about?" You say as your husband's grasp tightens.
"We should quit."
"What?" You say confused. Things are going well for the two of your careers, even being in the top 3 from time to time. Hell, he just made number 1 last year.
"We should retire our old asses and enjoy our fucking lives til we're grey and wrinkly." He says in a mumble swaying you back and forth.
"Fuck is a bad word papa."
"Katsumi," You scold the child before sighing. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it, but where's this coming from." You question the vulnerable blonder.
"Mm just had a shi- poopy butt dream," he says, trying to make his sentence child friendly, earning a giggle from his daughter and a chuckled from you. Still, you investigate further.
"About?"
"We didn't make it back from a mission. We held each other til the end, but I don't want that for us," He says quietly to avoid the childs prying ear while his grip tightens on you.
You stiffen. Dying during a mission and leaving the kids behind? That thought left a nasty taste in your tongue and an even bigger ache in your heart.
This time you hold him tighter.
"Guess I'll have to tell the commission that I won't be back from maternity leave then." You say, peppering him with kisses. He let's out a sigh of relief. Being glad that you're both on the same page.
"I think I should just leave the agency to Red then. The interns are going to give me so much crap about being old." He chuckles while kissing you back. Yet his hold on you stays.
A comfortable silence lingers for a little.
"Thank you for keeping up with my crap." He says quietly. His vulnerable insecurity of not being good enough for you showing.
"Til I'm grey and wrinkly, Kats." causing him to chuckle. You always knew how to reassure him.
"Til we're gray and wrinkly."
And with no tragic ends in sight.
Doing this instead of the 8 assignments due tomorrow night. 😭
(You can all blame @voidsentprinces and one of their posts for inspiring this one cuz I sure as heck am. Spoilers through Dawntrail.)
-
In the colorful forests of Kozama’uka, a strange movement of light green catches my eye. For a moment, I imagine.
“This one finds this forest so lively! Will these ones feast soon with the bright feathered ones again?”
It was a trick of the light on banana leaves. The shade of our little courageous one is gone again.
-
We’re still in Kozama’uka, but the roar of the waterfalls is below instead of above, and we’re trying to reach out to the bandits harassing the Potsworn.
I think of a boy with gold hair and an eager smile, no longer wearing blue. “You gave me a second chance, and I’ve never regretted it. We’ll find a way to help them, too!”
I blink, and realize the only resemblance in the bandit before me is that he’s young and blond. The shade of our foolishly brave boy is gone again.
-
I cross the bridge to Shaaloani, with its hot, dry plains rolling into the distance, eventually leading to grasslands in the northeast and craggy hills in the west, toward what was Yyasulani.
A Landsguard officer speaks an order, but in familiar tones, a comrade to his men. His voice stirs a memory, and my mind wanders again.
“We’re a long away from Quarrymill, but this reminds me in some ways of home. I bet you still hear thanks enough whenever you go back.”
I look at the soldiers laughing with each other before dispersing to their duties. The shade of our revolutionary captain is gone again.
-
The sky always seems so close in Worlar’s Echo. The Yok Huy see a few more traders these days. I’m watching the moon cross the sky when someone lights a pipe, the smoke wafting past my nose. Comfortable as I am, I’m halfway to dreaming already.
“Foolishness. We know what it is now, hardly deserving the veneration bestowed upon it for so long. And you surely have better things to do than mourn the likes of me.”
I turn to protest, but now I am fully awake and see the pelupelu merchants smoking and haggling. The shade of our spiteful witch is gone again.
-
There’s a sense of responsibility to the people afflicted with levin sickness, especially the children. I make sure that Oblivion is getting the families everything they need. I visit the first boy we met with this illness, and offer a treat of real fruit juice from the farms. It’s a good day, and he smiles as he sips, his mother smiling through her tears as he manages the straw.
“You learn to take what moments of happiness you can get. You figured out how to help the light afflicted and the tempered; this too will be defeated in time. But find the little victories where you can meanwhile.”
I look up from the boy’s bed. It’s just him, his mother, and me in the room. The shade of our fierce carer is gone again.
-
I’m still awake in the pre-dawn hours, so take a mug of mate with me to the end of the boardwalk to watch the dawn. The endless blue of the water, with the light piercing into my eyes, makes me remember a similar sight at the end and start of everything.
“There is no true challenge in this land. ‘Tis a wonder you are not bored. But you always have found meaning and pleasure in people and their small matters.”
The sun continues rising and the city wakes. The shade of my antagonistic mirror is gone again.
I finish my mate, return to my cabin, and go to bed.
-
They come and go, these ghostly memories. Some not as much as they used to, since that journey into the aetherial sea. Perhaps their aid and that last chance to say goodbye made a difference.
Maybe I am simply sentimental.
“The burden of heroes and leaders,” one of my newer ones says. “We spend all our time fighting for their lives and happiness, and feel it keenly when we fail them. Yet they helped to shape us, and so stay with us. And we strive to do better by those who come after them.”
I look up, but the shade of that heroic father is gone, the echo of his boisterous laugh ringing through his city’s streets, in his daughter’s own laughter. She waves to me now, her brother, her nephew, and our comrades with her. They are all exuberant and bright and alive, with so much possibility ahead.
you can only chase a butterfly for so long | daniel ricciardo x max verstappen
warning: angst, hurt/comfort | word count: 570
since i am still trying to deal with what happened, i decided to write a little something to just work through some of it. so please read at your own risk. it will all be okay, even if right now there doesn't seem to be any hope.
As the morning sun slipped through the gaps in the curtain the unbearable weight of tomorrow fell over him. The emotional turmoil that was yesterday was a thing of the past, and now all he is left with is the aftermath of that storm. Though he was wrapped in the warm embrace of his boyfriend, the iciness lingered beyond the surface level. The unforgiving frost worked its way between his ribs until it pierced his heart. This was supposed to be his second chance. A moment to do it over again, and it was never supposed to end like this. End it such uncertainty that felt so final.
His body and mind ached from the battering. His eyes filled with tears as they streaked down his face attempting to wash away the pity-filled words that were thrown at him. He tried to keep his body from rocking with sadness and prevent the sobs of betrayal from breaking through his lips, wanting to keep this moment to himself. Max did not deserve to be woken up by him in this state. But, Max was always so perceptive even when asleep. He was aware of even the most minuscule shift in his mood.
“Daniel,” Max began, his arms pulling him impossibly closer.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” Daniel responded, his voice thick with tears.
“Oh, baby,” Max whispered as he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, “No need to apologize. I am here for you, always.”
Max’s words floated over his skin, providing pockets of warmth for him to sink into. For many years Daniel had Max by his side. Whether that was as teammates, rivals, friends, and eventually partners, it is the one thing he will never take for granted. Even through all of the blatant betrayal and pure disrespect, he would do it all again if that meant he got Max.
“I want you to know that you are so loved. Loved by me, by your family and friends, and by so many others. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but I will be right by your side as we work through it.”
Daniel nodded as more tears fell, unable to form any more words. Tired of defending himself, tired of proving himself, tired of showing up and pretending that all was good, tired of the false positivity, tired of having his character questioned. It wore him down until he could no longer fight.
“We will take our time because you deserve nothing less. This fucked up decision is not a reflection of you. It was never about you, and you were too good for the bullshit they put you through. You are always too good, Daniel. Most people don’t deserve you,” Max continued as he pressed delicate kisses along his shoulders.
Daniel shifted in his arms until their chests were pressed together and their eyes met. Max’s blue eyes which were usually so guarded were laid open. Every emotion and feeling was on display, leaving nothing for Daniel to question. His honesty was apparent and his love and adoration were overflowing that if he wasn’t careful he could drown in it.
“I love you,” Daniel stated. It was an absolute, a fact.
With the gentleness of handling a porcelain doll, Max reached out and brushed his thumb along his cheek. The tenderness caused his heart to ache in a completely different way. “I love you too.”
**SPOILERS** for everything happening after the final match. Basically some story stuff and a bunch of goodbyes, but it’s mostly just me loving every second the Yaoqing trio is on screen.
Seeing a younger Jing Yuan is precious, but it was made even better hearing Alejandro’s natural voice during this short scene.
I know Igor was mentioned at the very start of this event and was sort of a constant, small side story amongst everything else, but his history and reason for entering the Wardance really was unfortunate from what I remember (which isn’t much.) Shame he’s no longer around. I would’ve definitely tried pulling for him if he ever had the chance to be playable.
While Jarilo-VI is no longer a small, unknown ball of ice floating in space, I was not expecting it to have more visitors so soon. I wonder how the Belobogians reacted to seeing their first foxian. & is it safe to assume that our pilot, who refuses to fly anymore, took the Astral Express here? Because that’s what I’m going to believe. Also, Seele spotted! Huzzah!! (no Serval at all though. I cry. or Clara now that I think about it.)
More allies, let’s goooo! Dang, imagine how awesome it would be to see Belobog experience other seasons aside from a perpetual winter. Or to have the residents able to travel outside the city’s walls, free from any danger. I adore everyone from Belobog so much and I hope they get the chance to live such fulfilling lives. They deserve it!
I have not checked the museum for myself yet, but if this photo is actually displayed there now, then that is so cute. And I know I can’t be alone in thinking this, but because of the striking red hair, Igor must be some sort of ancestor to Luka, yeah? It might be a stretch but they even got similar big grins too.
Alright, enough of my favorite planet and onto my favorite trio. Jiaoqiu sweetie, I treasure those few days so much! I just wish you were spared from all the trauma.
What a way with words. A poet, even. And yes of course I chose the first option. I feel bad pointing out his little slip up, but I wanted to know his reaction even more.
Pfft, the fact they let him talk for so long without mentioning he was facing the wrong way.. I’ll admit it is a bit comical.
Awww honey no! Don’t apologize! If I were them, I’d move myself in front of whatever direction he was facing so he wouldn’t feel bad.
It’s okay, we don’t blame you! At least he says it’s only his eyes that aren’t of any use instead of himself. That’s thinking positively I guess. I’m sure he’s still quite capable in doing many things, even in a kitchen. I mean, the guy had his eyes closed 90% of the time anyway, so surely he can still cook up a decent meal while blind thanks to muscle memory and his expertise. The other two would gladly assist him as well.
How much you wanna bet our Jiaoqiu isn’t going to listen to any doctor’s order because he’s a healer and knows his body better than anyone else? Feixiao & Moze are gonna make certain he heals up properly. But maaann, I wish they showed us Feixiao in the crowd during the final match, if only for a split second.
A perfect trio. One who can’t compete because of rules, another who wouldn’t fight because that’s not his job and the other who shouldn’t, lest he end someone’s life by accident. Pretty fair reasons.
Moze is an absolute mood. I’m not a big fan of chatting either. Quite ironic, given how much I can ramble on about this game and its characters, isn’t it?
Her whole “lacking in worries, regrets and rivals” outlook on life is wonder and I love it but NOW our Lacking General has but ONE REGRET! Aaaah.. honestly, I do too. I regret not pulling Jiaoqiu, but IN MY DEFENSE.. Feixiao was right after him and I needed to save big for her. I also didn’t really have a team suitable for our healer to excel in.. but next time for sure! I’ll bring him home!
Son of a bitch they’re so precious and sweet I wanna scream. It’s a blessing in disguise that this entire goodbye scene wasn’t voiced because if I had to hear all the emotion in their voices for this conversation I would’ve been an even bigger, sobbing mess.
Pfftt, thank you Moze for focusing on the task at hand. We can always count on him to be blunt.
Yeah how about NO. I do not wish to see you guys leave me! I’m holding onto that “for now” with such a tight grip. Y’all better return sooner rather than later, you hear me??
I absolutely took my time taking photos of them. I love ‘em with all my heart and can’t wait to see them more in future arcs.. as long as nothing else bad happens. Surely my devotion shall protect them from any troublesome plot! You hear me, Hoyo? Only wholesome and heartwarming stuff from here on out!
I am kinda bummed Huaiyan turned out to be nothing but a unique looking npc. He might not have been a character I might’ve pulled for if he was playable, but he would’ve definitely had some cool combat animations I’m sure.
I know I’ve said it somewhere before, whether in a post of my own or in comments, but Fu Xuan is probably my least favorite character. I just.. don’t vibe with her at all. I dunno. With that said, I didn’t mind that she was practically absent from these entire last two patches. So yes, I called her sassy, lost and short.
Astral Express parents showing up fashionably late to the party. Ya think a black hole or orbital laser could’ve destroyed Hoolay’s blood moon? We shall never know. I do wonder how their own task with those fossils and Ruan Mei turned out though. That’s something I’m looking forward to hearing more about, especially since Yaoguang mentioned at the end of the 2.5 story that our mad scientist has just boarded the Luofu too.
Huzzah, the end~ Much less serious this time around but at least we’re finally done. I wasn’t a huge fan of the Xianzhou during our initial trip here during the story, but these last two updates were some of my favorites for sure. (and I promise it’s not only because of my Yaoqing trio bias)
I think the reason that Russingon works so well as a pairing is that their personal tragedy is a perfect microcosm of the wider tragedy of the Silmarillion.
There’s their respective positions, for one. Fingon and Maedhros are the heirs of Fingolfin and Fëanor, and as such they inherit the family feud from beginning to end. It’s very easy to make this the beginning of their story in Valinor—two young princes forced together, and then growing closer together.
And from there, Fingon and Maedhros are right at the heart of the conflict between the Noldor. It’s easy to imagine a breach—“the lies of Morgoth came between them”—in the time around Fëanor’s exile to Formenos. And as all the shippers love to point out, there is also a lovely symmetry between Fingon rushing in to Alqualondë to defend his kin and Maedhros asking to send the ships back for Fingon at Losgar. The canonical breach between them makes these exchanges more poignant. Neither has many reasons or motives to think of the other, just like the factions of Fingolfin and Fëanor. But they do anyway.
Then, of course, there is Thangorodrim.
Like the exchanges at Losgar and Alqualondë, this is a scene of unparalleled grace on Fingon’s part. Canon specifies that Fingon does not know Maedhros stood aside at Losgar, but he went looking for him anyway. And Maedhros, in thanks, gives up the mantle of Noldóran to Fingon’s family. Their actions are the way the breach between their respective factions healed. When Maedhros and Fingon start a new chapter, so does their people’s history.
And then the new, hopeful chapter comes to a close with the Bragollach. Personally, I don’t think this battle and the 17 years between it and the Nirnaeth get enough attention. If the Nirnaeth is utter disaster, then the Bragollach is the uncertain balancing point before that. It was a terrible blow to the Noldor, and it upset the comfortable balance of the Long Peace. The period after the Bragollach is similarly a time of immense change for both Maedhros and Fingon. Fingolfin dies, leaving Fingon as High King. Maedhros puts together the Union and plans for a frontal assault against Angband. In the background, the Silmaril Quest and Finrod’s death shake up everything the Siege of Angband made them assume. There is hope and urgency and action.
And then the Nirnaeth comes, and utter despair with it. There is an inescapable symmetry in the fact that the Noldor’s most crushing defeat was also the one where Maedhros lost Fingon. It’s also inescapable that precisely when Fingon dies is when Maedhros loses all honor and moral fiber. There are two more Kinslayings, kidnapped children, and slaughtered guards. Even in a non-romantic reading of canon, it’s impossible to argue that Fingon’s loss and all its implications didn’t contribute to this. There is no one to reign in Maedhros and his Oath, either personally or politically.
And then the Oath is fulfilled, and Maedhros kills himself as soon as he is free. I think that speaks for itself neatly enough.
SO! I've wanted to talk about The Clip all day but felt like I should wait until the tumblr "premiere" (even though I think you were literally one of the first people to see it on Twitter lol). Thank you for defending my honor btw even if I am just Someone <3
But. Yes. Yeah. Yokoyama's absolute certainty in saying that??? Without anything to even buffer it? No maybe. No "don't expect too much." Just point-blank in front of a huge fan (whom I believe he's now going to be working with), a staff member, and a massive audience. As if that part isn't the matter of contention. I WILL be injecting those words directly into my veins for some time.
I was on the verge of choking and/or spewing blood and/or crying before posting it though lol, so I really appreciate the vote of confidence regarding the translation and I love your redraw! The reception as a whole has been really nice, although I wish people would keep it to themselves if they'd rather have Nishiki or Ryuji back or whatever. Not like it's a race, but even if it was, Mine's been in last place for ages lol.
And while I enjoy Y3's writing more than most, Mine's death wasn't some Grand Meaningful Statement, it was the decision of a fledgling studio that never knew if it would be able to keep making these games trying to tell a self-contained story. It did have far-reaching consequences for the series, but those consequences are also... not really relevant anymore?
Like, I can and have argued that Mine's death caused the fall of the Tojo Clan, but the clan has already fallen. So I don't see why some people are acting like revisiting his character would be A Spit In The Face to the saga somehow, but I guess I've never really been against characters being brought back...? A quote from the staff that's always stuck with me from the staff is that RGG is always going for RGG-ism, not realism.
Ranting aside... I honestly don't know if I should be saying this, but there's this new guy working the counter at Survive in some LaD8 behind the scenes footage. Now, upfront, I'm 99.8% sure it's not Mine (I happen to have a 100% accuracy rate so far identifying major RGG characters from extremely blurry images and silhouettes lmao), and I have no idea who it is, whether it's a new character or an old one heavily redesigned or Just Some Guy.
But he's not Kashiwagi. And he happens to have slicked-back dark brown hair with what appears to be an ahoge in some angles. And, unless the materials are temporary, he also dresses A Lot Like the celebrity Mine's design was based on. And his features... line up closely enough to piss me off, even though they don't fully match in the end, which is why I don't think it's him.
I'm in argumentative essay mode 100% of the time which is why I'm saying this in a "convincing" tone despite literally not believing it myself, but like... wouldn't that be something? To just have Mine part-timing at Survive or whatever and no one makes a big deal of it because they don't know any better? If nothing else, I really do think he should get The Bartender Treatment.
I dunno, I might post about it with a comparison tomorrow because it's been on my mind lately, especially with The News, but I really don't want people to get the wrong idea either. Or embarrass myself if it was too tenuous of a link to look that deeply into from the start lol
I remember seeing it two minutes after you posted it, so I can imagine I was one of the first to the scene of the crime (so my friends put it LMAO). AND OF COURSE I- and a lot of us- can't be any more grateful for all the work you do than we already are. I'd go insane trying to document and manage everything you do! especially when you have insane people like me ready to pounce on the smallest thing like I know I'd cry FJLKAJ The least I can do is give a proper title/credit to you when I can o7
If Yokoyama had any remaining hesitance about Mine being alive, then he REALLY would have fumbled by sounding so certain. Like in his old tweet, he certainly sounded more ambiguous, but this time he really had no extra notes and sounded more sure of himself. I won't expect RGG to do anything with Mine, but the concept is still very much exciting and the idea that Yokoyama almost seems earnest about the idea of bringing Mine back for whatever reason is very nice to know :] And thank you about enjoying the art I did! I can't lie in the slightest, since the last ask where you alluded to posting the clip, I had that drawing saved in the back of my head ready to make once you had that posted LMAO
But oohh not to touch drama since I generally try to Not touch it, but yeah I can't act like I haven't seen some people be. ""Interesting"" about the idea of Mine being alive. I won't dive too deep into it, but I think my major issue with the few grievances I've seen is that RGG hasn't done anything with Mine's alive status. As of right now, it's just a thing Yokoyama said, so I don't understand the need to be so angry about it (it's especially weird to say Ryuji hasn't been back when he not only got to be a playable protagonist in Dead Souls, but he was also the protagonist of RGGO- though I suppose I can understand wanting him in the mainline series again. Still, it's weird to act as though Mine's back any more than he is and being upset about it just because Yokoyama said he was alive)...
Moving on though, I'm really curious as to this 'mystery figure' you mean. I've been missing out on LaD8 production material, so I haven't seen this bit myself but I'd love to take a stab at it and analyze myself too. I agree though: if Mine does come back- whether he's working at Survive or anywhere else- I would greatly prefer if he had The Bartender status and was just never really called attention to and only existed in the background
I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.
It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.
Several heroes emerged.
Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.
You can't forget about Flo-Jo.
And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.
Which formed... The Dream Team.
Was this fair?
Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.
So... no. It was not fair.
Though it became more fair as time went on.
But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.
But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.
He was cool as heck.
For one thing... gold shoes.
But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.
And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.
Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.
Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.
It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.
After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???
Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.
This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.
The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.
The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"
I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.
And that's when my inner nerd took over.
Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.
Why is the track white?
Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?
So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.
Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.
Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.
And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.
But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.
This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.
Only the finish line itself is actually captured.
And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.
So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?
That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.
As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.
It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.
Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.
What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?
Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.
So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.
NEAT!
Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?
I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!
Clavicles!
The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.
So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.
Two more fun facts!
The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.
The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.
They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.
And the final fun fact...
Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?
That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.
But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?
That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.
So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.
I know I sound like a broken record by now: repeating the same things others have said before but I think banality of it all is the point of my post. The fact that I have nothing new to say– not about the genocide in Gaza, not about the dwindling attention of allies, is HORRIFYING.
It has been 11 months of a genocide that the UN calls “war on children”. Malnutrition, diseases, lack of suitable medical care have caused Gazan children to lose their childhood; to lose their lives entirely!
There is no hope left for a future unmarked of pain and my friend Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) , who is father to three sons describes it as a “feeling of oppression”. He laments that his children have been forced away from their schools, hopes and dreams by colonizers and where before there were ambitions to excel in either studies or sports, all they know now is helplessness, fear and anger.
Siraj has told me how his children- Abed, Muhammad and Amir have confessed to their father about how they have begun to feel guilty for surviving at all now ; after having lost so many of their friends to the genocide they are experiencing survivor's guilt and it breaks my heart to hear that. Abed, the eldest son, is ONLY ELEVEN!! Can you imagine an eleven year old feeling guilty because he has managed to survive while his friends haven't ? And what kind of survival it is– Half starving, drinking unclean water, forced into tents where sand mites pester him throughout the day?
I am not sure what happened or why the engagement with fundraisers has dropped so drastically lately but there is nothing more atrocious, more horrible than apathy when children are suffering. It is so strange that we can quote James Baldwin so easily and yet have failed to understand what he meant when he said,
"The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; ...whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality. ”
We have the power that is not afforded to Gazans and therefore it is on us to be attentive no matter how repetitive these posts feel. It is ridiculous and dehumanizing that during a genocide one has to worry about making a post original enough to maintain attention. And yes I know that we won't be able to stop the horrifying banality of Israel’s evil in a day but WE CAN help provide FIVE families that are dependent on this fundraiser with a lifeline during times such as these.
Please we have managed to get this far after struggling for so long, it cannot be that we will fail Siraj when he is so close to the end goal of 82k !!
So DONATE AND BOOST. Find it in yourself to not just reblog but circulate the fundraiser among your colleagues, friends and family. Share it in your whatsapp chats and discord servers. Share it on every other platform that you may have a reach on.
Currently at $72,987 CAD of the short term goal of 75k. We have 2k left to raise by tomorrow.
Even if the ongoing ruthless genocide in Gaza ends, our children have nowhere to return to. The home they were supposed to grow up and make memories in was reduced to rubble in the blink of an eye,but that's the least of their worries for now.
At present, they have no shelter from the scorching sun except a flimsy tent that barely shields their little fragile bodies from the sizzling summer temperatures. In winter, my family suffered from the freezing cold and heavy rain, and now they are being stifled by extremely hot weather inside a makeshift tent made out of cloth that renders the sweltering heat even more unbearable. What makes things worse for them, is water scarcity. It's beyond heart-breaking for me to watch as Omar and Salah's only relief here is to drench themselves in salty sea water to cool their small already malnourished bodies. Going to the beach,too, is not only for leisure for them. In the past, we used to go there to escape the summer heat amidst the constant power cuts. Presently, my family, like all the dispalced in the strip, go to the sea to flee the tent's hell. However, being forced to go there does not mean it's a safe place,for the occupation's army and missiles have targeted it multiple times, killing hundreds of civilians on its shores.
Even the simple pleasure of having a proper shower is denied to our kids and their baby siblings who are suffering the most from the blistering heat. The newborns' health has already been deteriorating and they have been unable to thrive but the current situation makes them even more vulnerable. On top of malnutrition, they face a high and imminent risk of severe dehydration. Unfortunately, If the worst happens, there are no adequate healthcare facilities or medical staff to treat them as all hospiatls in Gaza have either been bombed or evacuated.
My family don't even have the luxury of using an electric fan due to the total relentless electricity cut. They have no choice but to use plastic lids and cardboard sheets as fans to endure the suffering in the airless tight space they're forced to be crammed in, drenched in sweat, not even having enough change of clothes for themselves or the children. Even falling asleep has become a challenge in those conditions.
As the unimaginable amount of bombs being dropped daily on our city keeps increasing the warming, no sanitation is available to reduce the garbage, foul smells, and insects all around. Even mosquitos have had a share in torturing my family members. These well-known infectious disease vectors are especially a threat to our children and babies health.
People tend to complain about the rising temperatures even in the comfort of their air-conditioned homes. Imagine spending the scorching summer days in a hellish tent! My family, like countless others,are deprived from even enjoying a cold drink or having a regular shower in this suffocating heat. Please don't give up on them and the babies. Keep them in your prayers, donate any amount you can spare whenever possible, and reblog as often as you can. Your support is invaluable.
It's beyond words to say how grateful we all are 🙏
Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne getting resurrected via whatever the bullcrap of the week is, and it NOT getting undone once the conflict is over. Bruce and the kids are experiencing All The Emotions but Thomas and Martha are just happy to be there and are wholeheartedly rolling with it.
"The Waynes are a superhero family now? That's amazing! Martha, isn't it amazing?"
"Yes, dear. So much better than the organized crime we used to do. Oh, don't worry Bruce, we really only did it out of obligation, we would have jumped to vigilantism long ago had we known it was an option."
"Martha, we have grandchildren! They're adorable!"
"Thomas you've already met most of them."
"Yes but now I can appreciate them! And spoil them!"
"Thomas, honey, if you actually act as an enabler for our grandbabies I think you'll end up giving our poor Bruce a heart attack."
"Damian has a sword Martha! A sword! We have swords in the family! This is wonderful!"
"I know, Thomas."
Thomas has to be physically restrained from learning how to be a vigilante. He's too old, and Bruce and the rest don't want him to die *again*. He can help Alfred. Doesn't stop him from badgering his grandchildren about their hobbies. Ostensibly it's because he wants to get to know them better, but they all know he just really wants to learn how to do the cool things they all do. He's banned from using the Batcomputer at least thrice.
Martha at first seems content to just sit in the house and play the role of old-fashioned housewife but one day she inexplicably appears in Jason's apartment, supposedly to return one of his guns after he dropped it. He could have sworn it was fully loaded when he lost it, and now it's empty. Martha's fingerprints are the only ones on the gun. He decides to not ask questions.
They both neglect to inform the high society of Gotham that they're alive, and it takes a while for them to realize this. Gradually every rich person in Gotham takes their turn having a breakdown over having to deal with even more Wayne bullcrap. How come the Waynes are the only ones that seem to be immune to death???
"How many of you have ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.
But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.
But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.
When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.
And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.
Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.
Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.
In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.
So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"
So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.
Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.
She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".
So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.
And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.
Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.
The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.
To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."
-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.
Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale
Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism
_____
Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"
"Yeah, thoughts?"
"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.
But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.
Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.
"How was your day, mon amour?"
"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."
Silence.
And not even radio silence.
"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.
But announcing their relationship to him?
He could see it ending in flames.
"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."
"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.
"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.
Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.
"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."
"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."
Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.
A perfect match.
(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.
How sweet.
"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.
"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.
"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.
"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?
Honestly, Lucifer feared that.
Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.
He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.
He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.
"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"
"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.
And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.
And placed it away from hers.
"Uh, dad-"
"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."
"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."
"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"
"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."
That's when he saw it.
That look.
Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.
It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.
"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."
"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.
The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.
"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.
"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.
Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.
"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.
"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.
There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.
"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."
That look, it made her softly gasp.
"Alast-"
"Ew."
Right.
Lucifer.
He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.
"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.
He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.
"Maybe."
Sick bastard.
_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _
"Fuck! Alastor!"
(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.
"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.
"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.
"Al?"
"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.
"But you-"
Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.
"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.
"I'm going to kill you."
"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.