#but aside from that it's been okay?? readable??

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2023. ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE by Gabriel García Márquez.

Currently reading! This has been languishing on the TBR for a While™ and came highly recommended by a bookstore coworker. I'm only a couple chapters in, so far, and the family tree is ~Messy~, but the prose is lyrical and lovely!

[phoenixblaze1412]

i-i-i-i-i-i wantttt another father dottore content 😢😢😢 may i ask for a child!reader cursing in front of our father? maybe a segment cursed in front of us and we just.. copy that curse word lmaoaoa. thank you in advance!

-🧊

No-no Word.

Now, Zandik established a rule among the rest of his segments that no one is allowed to cuss whenever you're in the room.

The no-no words. That's what your father calls it. Every single cuss or swear word that exists within his and his segments' vocabulary is not allowed to be said within your hearing range.

"But why am I not allowed to say these no-no words, papa?"

"Because, my sweet, these words can only be used by adults. You are still too young to say these and I don't want your innocence of the world to be tainted with bad things."

Yes, the segments follow the rules.

But sometimes, they just can't seem to keep their mouths shut.

Mostly Iota, Theta, Beta, Gamma, and Delta.

How lucky of you that they will be taking care of you for the whole day while your father is being called to a meeting with the rest of the harbingers.

The segments agreed on how many hours they each will take when watching over you.

-----

With Iota:

You were in your father's office, busying yourself as you you doodled on a piece of paper with a pencil that Iota handed you. Iota, on the other hand, was organising each reports based on their importance.

He was already annoyed at how incompetent his fellow clones are. Not even sorting out the reports they handed to him in the proper order. Even their writings are hard to understand!

With a huff, he went to rewrite the reports of the others to something much more readable for Zandik to understand. Moving his arm a bit, he didn't notice he knocked over the ink bottle. Said bottle toppled over a few documents, ink spilling down and staining the reports.

"Fuck!"

Iota cursed out as he quickly picked the ink bottle up and went to quickly fix the mess that was created. He knew he would be scolded if Zandik found out about his mistake.

Once the mess on the desk has been cleaned, aside from the ink stained reports, Iota let out a relieved sigh. It's okay if the reports are smudged a lot as long as there isn't any ink stain on the harbinger's desk then he is okay.

"Fuck!"

Iota quickly turned around to face you when he heard your voice say that one word. His eyes widening in shock as he quickly went over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

"No no no! You must not say that, mutt!"

"Fuck!"

Ah shit..

-----

With Gamma and Delta:

You were immediately dropped off at the laboratory by Iota. You heard the segment saying something along the lines of 'if it's not with me then it's not my problem anymore'.

Gamma was the first one to notice your presence as he grinned before quickly picking you up in his arms and lightly pinching your cheek.

"Little flame! You're just in time. Come now, let's put a lab coat on you so you won't get any chemicals spilled on your fragile self."

You were sat upon a stool, safety goggles placed upon your eyes as you watched the chemicals in the beaker bubbling from the hotplate. Delta was taking notes of the chemicals while Gamma stood beside you with a bored look.

"Delta, can we heighten the flames to make this thing go faster? Or maybe add more fire? Fire is good."

"No. Too much heat pressure can cause something bad."

"But we've been waiting for an hour already! (Y/n) is already bored!"

Not really. You were too busy staring at how pretty the liquid in the beaker was, liking the color.

"No, Gamma. We have to wait for two more hours. That's what the instructions said."

Letting out a huff of annoyance, Delta turned around and went to check on the supplies, leaving you and Gamma for a while. With Delta away from you two, Gamma grinned in delight before glancing at you and placing a finger to his lips to be quiet. You nodded in understanding, placing a finger to your own lips as a sign that you're quiet.

You watched as Gamma turned the heat to the highest level. The chemicals beginning to form bubbles at a very alarming speed as the beaker began to shake and move around the hotplate. Both you and Gamma stared curiously at the beaker, wondering why it's rattling too much until you both heard Delta come back.

"Gamma, what the fuck did you do--"

Before Delta could finish his sentence, a large explosion erupted in the lab. Gamma had you in his arms, shielding you away from the glass shards of the beaker. Delta quickly went to turn on the air vents to quickly remove the smoke that clouded inside the room. Once the smoke disappeared, Delta was glaring at Gamma with his arms crossed.

"You pyromaniac fuck! I told you to leave the heat on its current state!"

"It's your fault for choosing something so boring to do!"

"Me?! This was literally fucking assigned to us!"

"Fuck!"

You like saying the new word. It feels like a catchphrase the segments would say. But Delta and Gamma were not having it.

"No! Bad (Y/n)! Don't repeat that!"

"My sweet little firecracker please don't say that!"

"Fuck!"

The two segments could only stare at each other in pure horror. Knowing it was futile to stop you from repeating that word.

"We are so dead."

"Not me, you were the one cursing a lot, Delta."

"Fu-- shut it!"

-----

With Theta and Beta:

You were eating your favourite sweets, courtesy of Epsilon, with Theta and Beta sitting on the floor in front of you. Both of them were already done with their assigned tasks so what else could they be doing but cause mischief instead?

"Alright, dumbass. Have you been cursing well?"

"Must you call the little angel a dumbass, Theta?"

"Meh, not my fault they ate a tomato and thought it was an apple."

Theta could only snicker as he glanced in your direction, pulling you over to his lap and poking your cheek.

"Now. Repeat after me. Say fuck."

"Fuck!"

"Good. Looks like you can already say that well. Now, what does that word mean?"

"When I had a very happy and good time."

Beta handed you another sweet as a prize, a grin spread across his face.

"You know, the others were panicking because the little angel has been saying 'fuck' the whole day."

"Well they're a bunch of idiots. Alright, kid. Say 'shit'."

"Sheeeet?"

"Close enough, kid."

"Lord Harbinger is going to be very upset if he finds out his child started cursing at a young age, Theta."

"Don't worry, Beta. We'll just blame it on the others."

-----

"Papa! You were taking too long!"

You ran towards your father, your arms reaching out to him as you were picked up right away. The other segments talking amongst themselves, relieved that their tasks for the day were done and they could do whatever they wish.

"Forgive me, little one. The Jester has a lot of thinngs to discuss about. How was your day while I was busy, hm?"

"It was good! I had fuck!"

The sound of glass shattering to the floor could be heard throughout the room as your father, and the rest of the segments could only stare at you in shock. You could only tilt your head to the side, wondering why everyone is suddenly staring at you as if you did something wrong.

"Where did you learn that word, little one?"

"I heard it from the others!"

From that sentence alone, Zandik immediately turned to his segments and glared at each and every one of then.

"You incompetent fools! I gave one simple rule to follow and you lot can't even follow it?!"

"Eh? Why are you angry papa? Doesn't fuck mean you're having a good and happy time? Theta and Beta said it's like fun but with more pizzazz."

At the mention of the two segments' names, everyone's eyes turned to said clones. Beta could only laugh nervously while Theta rubbed the nape of his neck and looking away. Zandik clicked his tongue in annoyance as he looked at you and gave you a small smile.

"I suppose but promise me not to say that word again, little one. That is a no-no word."

You could only cover your mouth in shame, not knowing you had been saying a bad word the whole day and thought it was just another term for fun. You immediately nodded your head to your father's words, promising not to say such things again.

"Good. Now run along to your room. I'll have to deal with something before I tuck you to bed, alright?"

"Okay papa!"

With that, you immediately left the office and back to your room, leaving the others to themselves. A scowl immediately appeared on Zandik's face as he glared at Theta and Beta.

"You two have some explaining to do."

"Run Beta, run!"

"Get back here!"

"We are so sorry!!"

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 11 - The Comanche Empire by Pekka Hämäläinen

Okay, second history book of the year! I actually liked this one, so the review’s probably not going to break 2,000 words like my one of The Bright Ages did nope never mind.

Anyway, this has been on my tbr for something like a year now, having ended up there for the incredibly nerdy reason of ‘got cited in a blog post about how bad the historical accuracy of the Dorthraki in game of thrones is’, and more broadly just because I remain shamefully uniformed about North American indigenous history beyond the highlights. So, for example, this book has expanded my knowledge of the 17th-19th century southwest several times over, and my knowledge of the indigenous people’s there from, well, not quite nothing, but not too far from it either.

This is actually the second book of Hamalainen’s I’ve read -I’d previously gotten my hands on his Lakota America, which is the more recent work. I rather wish I’d taken better notes as I read it, honestly, feels like a more complete/detailed compare and contrast would be interesting.

Anyways – so the book’s got both a broader historiographical/polemical thesis and then also the specific guiding narrative for its particular subject matter. The broader thesis is essentially that indigenous peoples in the Americas were full and active agents of history, and for centuries after the Columbian Exchange many of them were quite rich and powerful and had significant freedom of action – history isn’t just something that rolls in from the east, which people were then effected by or reacted to, they weren’t just trapped in antediluvian ways of life politely waiting for Progress to arrive. It’s a point he returns to in his latter work, but it certainly one that still seems like it needs making.

His specific thesis for the book, though, is that between the early 18th and late 19th centuries, the Comanche were able to create a real nomadic empire in what became the American southwest, driving out or incorporating rival nations to essentially dominate all the best land for the intensive dual pastoral/hunting economy they developed on the southern plains, and reducing the colonial states of New Mexico and Texas (and at different times Louisiana and almost all of northern Mexico) to the status of imperial tributaries or raiding hinterlands. It was only with the collapse of the buffalo population and the resulting famine (combined with smallpox) that the US Army and the rivers of settlers from Texas and further east were able to seize the southwest and convert it into an agrarian economy.

The book’s very much published by Yale University Press, and not exactly easy reading. It is, however, really very light on jargon, or at least makes sure to introduce all its terms and be clear in their use and meanings. The lack of Comanche written records means Hamalainen mostly has to rely on colonial sources or the reports of merchants and traders, so he has made an explicit point of trying to cross reference multiple such sources from different colonizers whenever possible, and especially for all his significant claims. Besides only barely glancing at the endnotes, I honestly found it really very readable, if dry.

Politics and colonialism aside, one thing Hamalainen really does an excellent job getting across is how revolutionary the (re-)introduction of horses to the Great Plains was. He frames it in terms of access to energy – having horses allows you to being exploiting the massive amounts of calories in the grasses and inedible plant life of the prairies, increasing the total amount of energy you have to do work several times over. Especially when the southern great plains are basically the ideal environment for horses, and their population started exploding basically the second the Spaniards lost track of a breeding pair.

You don’t realize how much easier a nomadic life gets when you upgrade from dogs to horses or mules for pack animals, and how much incredibly more efficiently you can hunt buffalo when you’re not doing it on foot and don’t have to haul back everything you take by hand. Not even getting into how much it shrinks the world in terms of trade and communication, or the massive advantage in being able to dominate hunting grounds and win wars. All incredibly obvious things I just hadn’t particularly thought about.

All this is especially relevant with the Comanche, because from the late eighteenth through mid nineteenth centuries they basically made themselves the fulcrum of the horse trade on a continental scale, with herds that put basically everyone else to shame and an incredibly lucrative business raiding Texas for horses and mules and trading them along with ones they’d raised or tamed themselves north and east.

Speaking of ‘raiding’ – the ‘empire’ in the book’s title isn’t just there to grab attention. The whole book is organized around the thesis that the Comanche both essentially migrated into and conquered the southern Great Plains with a mixture of warfare, diplomacy, and incorporating other groups, and then – along with making themselves the centre of an incredibly lucrative trading network that reached across most of the continent, with Comanche becoming an increasingly common language for trade even quite far from their actual territories – reduced the sedentary and agrarian communities around them (both indigenous and colonial) to the status of an exploited imperial periphery.

This was especially the case in Texas and New Mexico, the former being used as an intensive raiding hinterland and source of livestock well into the mid nineteenth century (at several points raided until the point of near-collapse), and the latter a collection of entrepots, whose governors provided annual tribute and whose towns traded at favourable rates for Comanche goods with the variably explicit promise that failure to do so would be rectified by raiding to make up the difference of a fair exchange. By the time of the Mexican-American War, the governor of the state was more or less openly defying the central government and maintaining a stance of pro-Comanche neutrality in the conflicts between the two.

This peaked in the early-mid nineteenth century, with essentially all of northern Mexico being reduced to an extraction zone for massive annual raids, and individual states or towns negotiating without any real reference to the larger Mexican state, often providing information and scouts to help attack their neighbours in exchange for immunity.

Which actually leads into one of what seemed to me to be one of the book’s more striking claims – that Mexico’s performance in the Mexican-American war can largely be put down to the fact that northern Mexico was only nominally part of the country even before the Americans invaded. There was little appetite for fighting and dying for Mexico City as the Americans moved in because from locals perspective Mexico City had been failing them quite comprehensively for years. (The decision to invite Anglo settlers into Texas is also put down as an attempt to create a shield against Comanche raiding, and the failures of Mexican attempts to reconquer it down to the lack of logistics and organization that resulted from all the possible staging grounds being de facto hostile territory).

Anyways, war and high politics aside, the book was excellent at describing what was actually involved in a nomadic economy on the southern Great Plains. The yearly schedule of raids and hunts, and the importance of river valleys to winter in (and the resulting conflict with sedentary/agricultural communities living in those valleys full-time) is just fascinating. The massively increased efficiency of an entirely hunting/pastoral lifestyle being matched by how fragile it was, likewise- it was vitally importance to get maize and other plant calories through trade or tribute to avoid protein poisoning from an all-meat diet. (Which, like, not actually a thing I’d known to worry about!) Likewise, the fact that horses and buffalo ate basically the same grasses and flourished in the same habitats imposed some real tensions on raising herds of the one while hunting the other – and the fact that even just passing through en route to California, a wagon train of settlers was immensely destructive, stripping river valleys of feed and firewood that was needed for winter camps, not even mentioning all the hunting they did.

One thing that definitely struck me – and the same thing happened with the Lakota, if I’m recalling Hamalainen’s other book correctly – is how the massive increase in prosperity over the 18th/19th century actually made Comanche society massively more patriarchal. Hunting was traditionally a man’s role, and treating/preparing the hide his daughter or wife’s. But a mounted and firearm-wielding man can kill way more buffalo than a single woman can possibly handle, and buffalo robes were, along with horses and captives (either for ransom or as slaves) one of the main trade goods Comanche rancherias used to buy guns, maize, metal cookwear, or whatever else they might need.

The result was a massive spread and institutionalization of polgyny, with junior wives essentially being labourers in the household manufacturing business. With the wealthiest and most important men often having dozens of wives, this rather unsurprisingly had the effect of creating a large class of peripheral young men with strong collective interests in raiding or feuding with neighbouring communities, either to win enough prestige and wealth to attract a wife, or just to kidnap and forcibly marry someone during the raiding. The fact that even as inequality grew more and more extreme, social mobility remained fairly high – among men, of course, but there don’t seem to have been real aristocratic dynasties – is a big part of the explanation Hamalainen gives for why the pressure and tension was all focused outward, and internal Comanche politics remained fairly peaceful and consensus driven (if increasingly oligarchic.)

The economic importance of slavery and the slave trade to just...everything in the region until the late 19th century was also something I probably should have known but still kind of took me by surprise, honestly. Kidnapping people from outlying ranches or other indigenous nations on the Great Plains and selling them to the colonial elite was an extremely lucrative trade throughout the Spanish colonial period, which mostly just transitioned to ‘ransoming’ them after theoretical legal crackdowns. According to Hamalainen, the Comanche didn’t initially practice slavery internally, but after a smallpox epidemic decimated their population several times over around the turn of the nineteenth century they turned to it in a pretty big way to have enough labor to sustain their economy and trade relationships (a fairly temporary kind of slavery, it should be noted, with most seemingly eventually being integrated as full members of the community. Which did mean the pressure to go raid for more was ever present.)

The book was an incredible trove of examples of things where I had previously sort of thought something that was just the result of individual greed or brutal social pressures was actually just, like, consciously racist/imperialist state policy on the part of New Spain or the United States. Either ineffective and kind of comical (Spanish policy for a good bit was to intentionally sell the Comanche secondrate and fragile guns so they’d break more often and they’d be more continually dependent on Spanish goodwill. They just started buying from the British) or extremely effective and pretty consciously genocidal (buffalo overhunting for greed and capitalism reasons was absolutely cratering the population, but at a certain point it was absolutely the policy of the US Army to just destroy the economic basis of Comanche independence.)

I honestly have no idea whether Hamalainen is trying to prove too much, but the argument he makes for the eventual American invasion and conquest of the plains – that the actually armed conflicts were kind of besides the point, because Comanche power had already been pretty thoroughly decimated by a late breaking smallpox outbreak and buffalo-overhunting induced famine, combined with mostly successful efforts to suppress their trading connections in now-American New Mexico, and that the actual campaigns were less battles and more intentional campaigns to destroy their winter villages and the food and goods stores within – seems to hold together and make sense.

Anyway, yeah, heavy and dry book, not exactly cheery reading, but incredibly interesting and informative read. Would recommend, if ‘350 pages of book followed by 150 of endnotes, index and bibliography’ is the sort of thing that appeals.

[purplekoop]

So I was digging around in my old art to look for a design that inspired one of my newer characters, and ended up finding something I definitely remember, but not to its full extent.

I had some Overwatch OCs, all the way back in 2018, within the first year I actually had the game. Not just any OCs, but OCs meant to be full hero concepts of course! And fortunately enough, I gave one of them a full kit breakdown, complete with stats! I think I must've been inspired by Master Ian Gamer, an OW youtuber who at the time occasionally made his own concepts in a similar style, both for canon NPCs and his own original characters.

So, for historical sake (and because I think it'd be cute), let me present to you:

Prisma- Hero Concept

(For readability's sake, I'll type out my old notes verbatim as normal text, with any new comments in parenthesis afterwards like this.)

Story: "I shall protect Earth's beauty."

(The larger box left open for the story itself was blank. From what I can remember/assume, she's an Omnic environmentalist with either some kind of crystal-forming power or hard light tech.)

Support 50 HP, 150 Shields Speed: Slow Difficulty: (2.5/3 Stars)

(The health numbers are the same as Zenyatta had back then, which knowing me might've been implying a connection. The "speed" stat is meaningless, most OW characters share the same base movement speed, with Tracer and Genji moving 10% faster. It may also be implying her lack of movement abilities. Also does OW2 even give heroes difficulty stars anymore? So much changes so fast it might not even be a useful rating to give anymore)

M1 (Primary Fire): Gemstone Daggers. Prisma throws a sharp gemstone from her waist to attack. Damage/shot: 50 Shots/clip: 8 Reload: 2 sec Headshot: Yes Shots/sec: 2 Airspeed: Slow Gravity: Yes

(Ah, poor young me, using PC input notation instead of the universally correct terms. This'll bother me more later. The main thing I gotta note here is how similar this concept is to Kiriko's knives, but with some notable differences. For one, the base damage is 50, presumably meaning that headshots do 100, just barely enough to two-shot most heroes at the time! I guess Zen could always do that with discord orb too. But apparently to balance it out, 8 ammo and a two second reload, which is atrocious. For reference, iirc most OW heroes have a 1.5 second reload animation, with animations longer than that being rare exceptions like old Orisa and sentry Bastion being longer, but they had massive ammo pools to chew through before that. Hitting your shots doesn't sound easy either, with the dubious "slow" projectile speed and the confirmation of gravity making me imagine something like Torbjorn's primary fire. The shots per second of "2" actually isn't too bad, assuming it means a fire rate of 0.5 seconds then that's only slightly worse than Zenyatta. Still overall a pretty weak-sounding weapon, with okay max potential DPS held back by a lot of slow reloading and a hard to land projectile.)

M2 (Secondary fire): Regenerative Crystals. Places a large gem on the ground that heals nearby allies. Gem HP: 150 Healing Radius: 10 meters Max at a time: 3 Cooldown: 15 seconds

(Wow, speaking of familiar concepts in retrospect, healing turrets! I think. Frustratingly there's no healing per second rates or specification whether they're an AOE like Soldier's field or single target like the healing turret that finally happened in-game via Illari. Aside from that ambiguity, the biggest difference between Healing Pylon and this ability is the fact you could place a whopping three at once. I don't know if it had a three-charge cooldown like Symmetra's turrets do or if each one has a full cooldown and you just have the ability to place up to 3 if it recharges while one is already active. Either way it adds to what'll be a theme of Prisma adding a lot more clutter than she has to onto the field. This is her only means of healing though, so it might actually be warranted)

E (Ability 2): Refractive Wall. Reflects all projectiles (even beams) back at the enemy team. Wall HP: 1000 Height: 2.5 meters Width: 5 meters Projectile damage: 1/4x Duration: 8 seconds Cooldown: 16 seconds

(Alright to cut myself slack, knowing that the shift ability is internally "ability 1" and the E ability is "ability 2" is the kind of thing I wouldn't have learned without Workshop, which was a year away at this point iirc. Still, this one being first pains me. Anyways, a reflective barrier is a neat idea I've heard at least a couple times. It felt very fitting for the crystal theme, with the added perk of reflecting beams likely being there so you could reflect things like Zarya's laser in a logical way. Actually, an important distinction left out is whether this is a barrier or a physical object like Mei's wall. If the former, it's essentially just Ramattra's barrier with a higher cooldown, but much longer duration. Considering it's made of rocks though, I imagine it'd be more likely like a Mei wall you can't stand on, and also made of only one object rather than 5 pillars. The "1/4x damage" stat seemingly implies that unlike Genji, the projectiles reflected by this would deal significantly reduced damage, to the point where it hardly seems worth the extra coding hassle it would take to add that mechanic to make it work.)

L Shift (Ability 1): Refractive Armor Prisma coats an ally in gemstones, reducing damage and preventing stun/cc. Damage taken: 1/2. Duration: 5 seconds Cooldown: 18 seconds

(Oh okay this is just Fortify but given to an ally. I think that was a deliberate goal, considering this might've been intended as a counterplay option into Brig's notorious stun at the time, but I don't exactly remember whether she was added at this point or not. Still though, between the temporary stationary cover on E and the fortify on shift, this is sounding a lot like a support version of Orisa. What a funny concept that'd be, huh.)

Q (Ultimate): Diamond Guardian Places a diamond turret that fires a laser at any targets in range. HP: 400 DPS: 25 Range: 30 meters Ult Charge: Slow Call-out: "Fear the earth's power!"

(So... if I understand it right, this is an entirely damage-oriented ult. Not even high damage, and not even from a bulky target like B.O.B., and not even from a fast-charging ult. The only redeeming quality seems to be the insane range. For reference, Ramattra's ultimate has only a 13 meter range. You are NOT outranging this thing, but it doesn't exactly seem like much of an issue. Utterly bizarre ult design, I have no idea why she has a damage-dealing ult at all, let alone such a bad one. Though neat detail, the crystal standing next to her in the art seems to be the ult, based on the icon. Very big "hit this to progress in a Zelda dungeon" energy.)

Playstyle Synopsis: Prisma is a mix of defensive, protective, and supportive abilities, which combine to form a hero who can strongly hold an objective. However, she falls short on the attack, with a tricky M1 and low-damaging ult.

(Why did I think "defensive, protective, and supportive" were three usefully distinct descriptors. To give myself credit though, it seems the bad damage and ult were deliberate weaknesses to balance out a support based primarily around defense and area control. She very much feels like a hero made by someone who liked defending on 2CP maps and wanted a healer to pair with stally fortress comps like Orisa, Bastion, Torbjorn, and Symmetra. Yeah... I was that kind of freak back then. I'm only slightly sorry. She very much feels like a product of her time though, which makes it all the more shocking how many abilities sound so familiar to newer additions to the game. Her art even implies she'd float to move around like Echo. There's nitpicks I could make with rebalancing this hero, but that's for another time perhaps.)

As a closing thought, I should mention how important it is to my creative history to remember when I first made a geomancer named Prisma! See, after this, I took the name and basic crystal powers concept, and gave them to an alien lady in a suit for a short-lived space story. Later on, I took that version of the character yet again and made her a human woman with crystal powers, keeping the suit and the name Prisma. This time she was made for a major RPG project called City of Desos, which I've mentioned before is the origin of War Bots star Wilderoad. Unlike the gunslinging bot, Prisma is still planned to be part of Desos, so even after all this time the legacy of this Overwatch OC lives on!

Anyways hope somebody finds this neat. I did have a couple more designs, but very few kit details if any, so I may share them separately. This is fun, despite some stuff in this folder making me wince. It's neat being able to look back on your art, not just to see where you are now, but also to know you might've been onto something for longer than you thought. The kit design and layout here isn't that far removed from the likes of my notes Role Requeue or War Bots, just limited to what I could do on notebook paper while I should be paying attention to class.

[anime-for-the-sleepless]

To all ends

Aizawa x you angst

Feeling lost In the world of heroes, alone, sad, needing to be free of it. You do what you must to flee.

Part 1

----

You placed the tear stained letter and your engagement ring on the counter, gripping the handle of your luggage. You hastily exit the apartment.

--

Aizawa came home from patrol, surprised to find the apartment empty. After his walk through, he spotted the note and your ring. In all the fights he's been in, all the scary, devastating situations that took control of his life, this one was different. It was like his heart was stopping and breaking at the same time. His hands shook as he picked up the letter, unfolding it carefully, noticing the water stained droplets smudging some of the writing a bit, but not enough to make it Un readable.

Dearest Shouta,

I remember there was a time when you used to care, didn't just pretend, didn't just say you did, you showed it with the things that you did. Once upon a time, I could come to you with problems and anxieties, and you'd be there. You'd listen and offer to lend a hand. Now you tell me not to think about it, to you it'll all work out in the end.

I am alone without any support. My life is one big joke.. my problems, feelings, and thoughts, none of that matters, not to anyone anymore. Slowly, everyone pushed me out of their lives, cast aside once I am no longer useful. That is my life. Just wish it wasn't all the time. I'm okay to be here. I'm fine to be around, but the moment someone else comes along, everything with me is suddenly forgotten about. I'm sorry I'm not special, I'm sorry I'm not strong. I'm sorry I don't have other people to be around. I'm sorry I've been a burden.

I'll figure something else out. I won't turn to you when things are bad, when I'm anxious and scared. I won't turn to you like I used to because I know you won't be there.

I love you, and I know deep down you love me, but sometimes love is not enough. Take care of yourself. Please don't come looking for me you won't find me.

Goodbye,

Y/N.

How long ago did you leave? How long did you feel this way? Between teaching and patrols, he's failed to see he's neglected your needs and your relationship. He pulled out his phone punching in the number of the one person he knew you'd turn to, one person who would hide you from the world if you asked him to.

Toshinori Yagi.

[sapphirefallschronicles]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Welcome to Sapphire Falls - chapter 17 ❜┊˚̥۪͙۪◌

Basketballer!Chris Evans x Abigail Syverson (plus size!ofc) & Farmer!Syverson x Livia Darmandi (Asian ofc)

Summary: Livia has finished her short story and asks Sy to read it.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: None

The Advent Calendar (a.k.a. the masterlist)

Okay, so the first few chapters of my short story are finished. No, wait, that’s a lie. The entire thing is finished, but only the first few chapters are readable. I called Sy, wondering if he could offer me a lift and he gladly did. Driving me to the copyshop went by faster than the navigation predicted, but that is all thanks to Sy’s “chased by the devil”-driving style.

‘So please, wait here, okay?’ I ask him. ‘Don’t drive off.’

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

I grab my hand bag, before I hop out of the truck. I make my way to the copyshop, quickly give the print order and within ten minutes and only costing me two dollars, I’ve printed out fifty pages of my short story. Securely tucked away in the handbag, I walk back and get in the truck. 

‘Done.’

Sy nods. ‘Ian called. Again.’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ I exclaim, really getting tired of his stupid antics. I grab my phone that I apparently left in the car and block his number. ‘I should’ve done that sooner,’ I note. ‘Blocking was the answer to everlasting peace.’

When Sy drives back, he asks: ‘How did you meet Ian?’

In the time I’ve been back in Sapphire Falls, I’ve mentioned Ian, but I never told him the details about my tumultuous relationship with him. Especially not how I met him. ‘I met him at a bar during college. He was a bit of a… What should I call it… The loveable nerdy friend of the jock.’ I turn to the side and add: ‘If that makes sense.’

‘Oddly specific even.’

‘Well, we hit it off, started dating, broke up, got back together, and repeated that cycle a few times. You know, the on-and-off relationship cliche. Really, it’s not even worth talking too long about. What about you? Did you ever date?’

Sy shakes his head. ‘I got no time for dating,’ he says.

‘Well, if it’s true love, you make time,’ I note. 

I wonder what Sy did in the years we spend apart. He might not have dated and pursued relationships, he must’ve done something. 

However, that thought makes me feel oddly jealous, so I push the thought of Sy and other women aside. 

‘Well, you’re not in a rush, right?’ I ask him. ‘Unlike the rest of town by the way. Your truck was spotted and everyone inside the shop started drooling. It’s borderline pavlovian.’

Sy smirks. ‘What did you print? Or am I still not allowed to ask about it?’

‘Well, I printed out the first fifty pages of my short story. I finished the entire thing, but the rest is not readable yet.’ I turn to the side and take in Sy’s attractive features. The small bump on his nose, the thick beard and the deep frown. ‘Do you want to read it?’ I ask him.

The frown becomes deeper. ‘Why do you want me to read it?’

‘Because I want your opinion on it. Please, Sy, would you? It would mean the world to me.’

‘Ah, even from the corners of my eyes I can see that damn pout of yours,’ he says. ‘Stop that.’

‘Only if you read it.’

He groans. ‘I’ll read it. Fifty pages is doable,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, that’s the spirit. Thank you.’

He nods with a smile. ‘Sure thing, Liv.’

●・○・●・○・●

I spend my time on the farm, gently petting the sweet goats. At first I thought Sy was exaggerating when he said the goats didn’t like them, but I saw the way they looked at him and I realized he might be right. 

I walk over the large landscape and I see Sy sitting in the shed he built when he was younger. The shed where I have one of my most hidden, yet most beautiful memories stored with him. Part of me wants to bring it up, wants to tell him how much I loved that night and therefore how much I loved him, but I don’t.

I can’t.

That next morning, after we woke up in the shed, we pretended like nothing happened. I handed him back his shirt, quickly put on my own pajamas. We sauntered back to the house. The last thing we sort of said about the matter was when he brought me to my room. He stopped in the doorway and gave me one soft kiss on my forehead. A brief smile was toying on his face, before he nodded, squeezed my hand and walked away.

I wonder if he remembered that night as clearly as I do. I kinda wish he did.

‘Liv!’

I look up, to see Sy jogging up to me, my partial manuscript in his hand. 

‘You’ve got more, I hope,’ he says.

I let out a shy chuckle. ‘Because you thought it was good or because you want to smack me with a thicker pile of paper, because I suck?’

‘What? Liv, this is absolutely amazing.’ He smiles and says: ‘I love your writing style. It’s quick, yet poetic. Not dragging at all.’

I take in the compliment. I love people talking about my writing, but a compliment from Sy just hits different. ‘I have more. Just have to give it one more check.’

‘If you are done with that, I’ll drive you to the copyshop again.’ He looks at the papers in his hand before he asks: ‘Oh, and the handsome farmer is totally based on me, right?’

I smack his chest. ‘No,’ I mutter, though that is totally a lie. ‘Maybe.’

Sy laughs. ‘Well, you dragged me along to the copyshop, now I’m gonna drag you along.’

‘Where to?’

‘To my bedroom.’

Don’t do this to yourself, Livia. Do not let your mind wander. 

‘Why?’ I manage to choke out.

‘Because…’ He awkwardly scratches his beard. ‘I’ve got your books there.’

I’ve heard from Abigail that he bought my books, but he hasn’t mentioned it himself just yet. It’s almost weird to hear it from him. ‘Oh… Did you read them?’

‘Every single one of them,’ he says. ‘Mom was obsessed and always forced me to go buy them. I bought copies for myself while I was there.’

I know how Sy has never been the type of guy who would read. He never appreciated books in the way I would. I remember when we were younger, we had to read a book for school. Sometimes I’d force him, but other times I would read them to them, while he was working on the farm. Whether he’d be cleaning the stables, organizing logs or building the shed, I’d be near him, the book in hand and I’d read it to him, adding ridiculous voices and what not.

It was the only way to get him to read a book, so he wouldn’t fail class.

But that was back in high school. I thought that after I had left, he’d never pick up a book again. 

And now I hear it from him.

He read my books.

I follow him inside, into his minimalistic room. ‘You liked them?’

‘I loved them,’ he says. ‘I always knew you would make it as a writer, but these books were amazing.’ He pushes some things aside and grabs all the books I’ve written. ‘They were my only connection to you.’

‘Sy,’ I whisper. ‘That is… So sweet.’

‘I can see your main characters are like you,’ he says with a gentle smile, placing the books on his desk. He plops down on the bed and adds: ‘Mags from the Game Over series managed to wrap everyone around her finger.’

I frown. ‘Mags had the gift of manipulation.’

Sy shakes his head. ‘You don’t. You don’t manipulate. You… Ah shit, how do I say this?’ 

Realizing he is trying to word it correctly, but can’t seem to find the right words, I decide to help him out.

‘Mags does it on purpose, I don’t?’

He nods. ‘That’s right.’

‘What about Roxy from Verified?’ 

He smiles. ‘Roxy is fearless.’

‘I’m not fearless.’

‘You are, Liv. You moved to New York City of all the places in the world. By yourself. I call that pretty fearless.’

I grab the chair of his desk and say: ‘I’m not fearless, Sy.’

He lets out a deep sigh. ‘To me you are.’ The words linger in the air and I try to find the correct words, but now I’m at a loss. ‘And this new main character, Alyssa, she’s just as magnificent as you are. Kind, sweet and patient.’

Sy’s eyes are vulnerable, open and I wonder what I should say to him. 

‘People change,’ I say. ‘I changed.’

‘You grew up,’ he says. ‘You matured. Of course you changed, but who you are to the core, that will never change.’ 

My mouth is dry and then I feel a tear burning in my eyes, followed by many more. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper. ‘I’m sorry for disappearing.’

He pushes himself from the bed, before he crouches down in front of me. His hands on my thighs. ‘Don’t apologize.’

‘You kept up with me, while I never kept up with you. I thought about you, I have my first suitcase with daisies, stored with memories, but… I never came back, because the more time went by, the scarier it became. I’m a horrible friend.’

‘No, you are not,’ he says. ‘Because you did come back.’ In his own rough way, he brushes the tears from my cheeks. ‘And we’re going to do better now, the both of us. Come on, I could’ve gotten on Instagram and found a way to message you. This is not on you, this is on us.’

I hold his face in my hands and I nod. ‘We’ll do better.’

I already part my lips, wanting to tell him something, when we hear the doorbell. Judging from the absence of Abigail’s truck, I know he has to open the door. I let go of him and he hesitates for a second, before he gets up. ‘You go sign the books,’ he says.

‘What?’

‘Come on, the author of my favorite books is here.’ He chuckles and says: ‘And you better make it personal.’

[elegyofthemoon]

Hsr for the ask game thing! Or if it's been asked then hi3 :)

YAAAAAAAAAAAY RAMBLINGGGGGGG

the first character i ever fell in love with:

sampo :) i actually started playing hsr because of sampo! he just seemed like a silly little dude and i do tend to like the "goof but has some big lore potential going on". it took like a day of resisting to actually download the game lmao

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not:

Himeko..... I was actually really excited to get to know Himeko more when I had first started off. I mean come on: she's so beautiful! But laksjdfh I think overtime she eventually stopped standing out for me that I lost interest. That plus now that I've played HI3, the reason why I like HSR! Himeko feels like it's only because of HI3 Himeko and the importance of Himeko in the HI3 plot and for many characters' developments 😭 Sorry Himeko

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not:

I guess KafHime tbh? I think aesthetically they're a very very pretty couple, but I just can't get behind it at all. Or I just have no reasons to get behind it since I'm not exactly invested in either characters. Though Kafka is definitely growing on me because I built her (accidental pull) and she's been doing such massive damage so like you know.

Even then I don't have anything to say about either characters aslkdjfa

my ultimate favorite character™:

surprise to no one it's Dan Heng ALKSJDFAKLSJH I can go on about why I like him, but tldr: I just got attached to him at a very very crucial point in my life and he's just a nice comfort character to me ^u^ I loved being able to get to know him further on the Luofu and all things about the High Cloud Quintet ! So... yeah :> also I miss him --

prettiest character:

IM STUCK BECAUSE I THINK DAN HENG IS SOOOOOO PRETTY BUT ALSO ARGENTIIIIIII ARGENTI IS SO BEAUTIFULLLL RADIANT KNIGHT WHO COMES WITH HIS OWN SPARKLES AND OURGHHHHHH

it's hard T _ T its very hard to tell T _ T

my most hated character:

I don't really have a character I hate. Just more disinterest towards. Dr. Ratio is definitely up there though (I ramble about him later lmao)

my OTP:

listen.... i know it has been a while.... but I still really love Serval/Cocolia. I rarely read fanfics aside from if its written by my friends but Servalia had me clawing through AO3 and Tumblr just to search for more fics for them. No one posts about them much anymore but I sure love them so much okay.

my NOTP:

i'm not going to say which ship but its one of the dan heng ships.

favorite episode:

I'll write this as "favorite update". Penacony has been suuuuch a fun ride honestly. So I'll say that entire section has been tons of fun. As of now I still haven't finished it in its entirety, but I can sense 2.2's story will probably be my favorite because I've been waiting to get to know Robin more and the Watchmaker!! But 2.1 has been fun because I just love seeing Acheron's section of it heheh :)

saddest death:

UHHH as of now, I think Aventurine's death in 2.1 was really sad :/ Hoyo did a really good job writing Aventurine and his story that once you get to the finale of the 2.1, I found myself kinda torn on how it ended. Aventurine who placed his bets on his own death because that is what his good luck is good for - winning against all odds. The epilogue scene with Aventurine walking off into the Nihility's shadow kinda got me too. And this is coming from someone who is like very.... meh on Aventurine? I can't really bring myself to get super invested in him but objectively, he is a really well thoughtout and well created character. I just have no feelings towards him.

favorite season:

I'll write this as "favorite area". It's still Penacony askldjfahlsk There's sooooo many things happening in Penacony and I loved being able to put the pieces together to figure out what's going on. It's also the first area that I had nearly read all the readables in because I'd make it my goal to finish reading every readable and 100% every area before the next update in Penacony :> I want to better understand the area I'm in and give myself ideas for where the story can go. The second area would have been Belobog because it's the only other area I was trying to 100% and read all the readables for (are the readables important in Belobog? no but some of them sure made me cry a bit LMAO)

least favorite season:

"Least favorite area" Honestly... Herta's Space Station. But that could also be because when I first started HSR, I was still orienting myself to the new world, so the space station is the least i remember. It's not that I hated it; it's trying to orient you into the new world and I was just confused for majority of it. I just don't remember enough about it nor about the people within it to care for it.

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate:

Objectively: I'll say he's interesting and I am interested to see his development. But Dr. Ratio. I don't get it. I've seen people talk about him wanting education to be accessible to ALL which is GREAT but personality? Can't stand him.

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave:

Ruan Mei my most beloved. I want more of her and I feel like we didn't get enough of her. She's just so interesting as a character and while she may not be the most caring of characters - and reasons why people shit on her - I still feel like her view as a character is interesting. And even her motives of wanting to become an Aeon. I want to understand her better. Why? What drove her to want to become so? I WANT TO UNDERSTAND YOU MISS

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave:

not a beautiful cinnamon roll but she sure is beautiful but i love Jingliu 😭😭😭 one reason why i don't like interacting with majority of the fandom is because of their viewpoint on Jingliu's companion quest. I had way way clearer thoughts on the quest when it was fresh on my brain, but I actually liked it a lot more than the fandom let on about it, and I know that people were kinda shittalking about Jingliu afterwards and that made me Mad on her behalf because I think she's a really nicely thought out character. But then again, if you know me: white hair character who is defined by mourning and grief. you know the deal LKAJDHFALKJD

idk. I just feel like she deserves better than how the fandom treats her.

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship:

I mean whatever the hell Rondo Across Countless Kalpas had going on, Black Swan/Acheron sure kinda has me feeling a way (in which i'd risk wanting a dance with Acheron. me too Black Swan LAKJDFALKS). Also in a way Servalia too I mean. You know.

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship:

No one asked but I actually kinda lowkey ship Firefly/Robin. Like very very lowkey. My only reasoning is when 2.0 was fresh and i was in Mourning over Robin, I once sent a very giant and long essay to my friend N about me late night perusing and overanalyzing Firefly and Robin's deaths. like why specifically them ? Why did they have to die?

I took it in a very symbolic matter. I thought too much about Firefly's monologue about her answer to "Why do people slumber?" and her answer being "Because people are afraid to be awake" or something like that. And about how it was "If I can stop one heart from breaking" that played in the background of all this - a song that praises the comforts of a dream in the face of bleakness. In both cases, in my view, it felt like having both of them die at least in that update, the deaths also seemed to signal the idea of ceasing this concept of a dream and to face reality etc.

And that's something I'm super excited about based on where i am with HSR with arguing with Sunday over the concept of comfort vs freedom.

BUT BACK TO THE POINT OF THIS QUESTION: this concept and me fixating on their meanings, it gave me a reason to kinda put Firefly/Robin together. It's kinda nice parallel with each other in a way haha

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary142

2/3-4/2024

my weekend begins #now.

i started it with a damon packard movie, foxfur, a friend sent me it and i was like, entranced by it. really great movie, feels like it gets at the precarity/nightmarishness of the world atm and all ways people cope, especially w/ new age weirdo stuff. so oddly on with that, all the way back in 2012.

otherwise, my day was okay, my work note:

stuck there too long, one kid tried to scam me and it was so obvious and bad, insanely stupid attempt. the rides are scary, someone almost lost their phone, but mostly, dull. i didn't get to take a break.

i did work on music but i'm too exhausted/spaced out to get to the next song, i've just been fiddling with the last one, the issue w/ it is that in order to get it more disgusting sounding in the distortion/how it distorts, i need to figure something out, and the fiddling/ solutions i've come up with are a bit flabby sounding i guess, coming back to them. the flab is in the lack of sharpness. something weird needs to happen or whatever. might need to go back to the guitar fixing thing for the right channel sound, i've started messing with some octave effects, but there may be something else i need to try too, maybe a re-done effects chain in parts. idk. i'll see how this export comes out where i boost some of the highs in each separate track.

did something where i went and eq-ed out the ugliest signals solo, seems to have worked in a first pass but i forgot to turn some stuff back on. i also decided to change something in the master. it's impressive to me how much stuff regarding guitar sounds/tones online is so useless and how boring most people want to be.

having thoughts now, about ai, that's how you know i've been up too late. here's my new whacko theory about it, or i guess i can't present it from there, immediately, here's the source of the thought, seeing the cover art for zazen boys ii, and the illegibility of it, basically, its failure to say zazen boys ii in a way that's immediately readable. it's willfully against being read, it's a mess, it's beautiful, it's a typographic explosion, it looks like several different languages slammed together, congealed. i don't think it's important it was done by a human or whatever but i think what it is, is something that fails at what you'd expect, and what you'd want from what is basically an advertisement to get people to blindly buy something, or that's what cover art is when viewed from the perspective of not caring about the music. many times, they are related, but it's positive also with the selling/potential to get someone to loo, i think maybe this is is only worth thinking about because zazen boys are a japanese band and cd sales are still hugely important over there, because piracy is so scary for them. for anyone who steals the vast majority of music, it's more freely interrelated to the music/meaning of the music, it's something that is liked and connected with in that way. this is an aside. basically the other thing is it reminded me of what those neural nets or whatever they are now, do when they try to write something in an image. signs, anything. it bugs me when people act like ai is novel, is what i think i'm feeling lately. it's a lot of futurists basically taking up a fetishistic desire to point at something as new, a new method, a new field of potentiality, a new capability for people to adopt, maybe flatly, it increases our ability, for them, and so this novelty in technology revitalizes art, but these things only scrape and congeal, they do it at a scale that people cannot, because they can remember more, with their monologic weighting and construction of meanings as largely singular and not fluid. people may bring the nature of ai writing which does get rather figurative and strange, but so does any good writer, it rarely produces sentences i think nothing else could produce, it just feels like a lot of excitement over the fact that capital has now moved into the territory of the illegible, it creates nonsense information, it absorbs centuries of ways of writing and sequences them, somehow, this is enough to some people to seem better than all fiction currently produced. a strangely eugenic approach to art, we seem to have arrived at in recent times, where people are quick to say, this is the end of everything, this makes anyone doing the same thing unnecessary, there is not vitality in (x), there is no hope for anything new in (x). a sickness over novelty, it is so purely and psychotically spectacular, it should be seen as special i guess how even people who act outside/above this get very wrapped in it, or act like it is real. i can never see or feel how it's real. i don't know why. is that wrong of me?

i know people who find ai to be very exciting, but when i see what they think of it, all i feel is that really what they want is to be the manager of creative work, and ai is finally a worker they can have. it's not about freeing up who can make things, the novelty is the fantasy it sells, the fantasy of not having to communicate with others in the creation of something, and the feeling that you are communing with some vast well of meaning. in short, you are enabled to be a creative director, you direct an image making, text spewing machine, a machine which has absorbed meaning/constructs meaning in a way that snuffs out the negative, there is never lack, it is a system of pure success, it is eugenically improving itself always, at least this is my read on it, creating memories / facts / linkages that are essentially a kind of super-infrastructure for information. this is totally opposite to the waste-products created in our mind, which we trip over, and months of not considering them, surface, corpses in rivers, eggs which never spawned, and now gleaming and bobbing, they seem pearls you may fashion into something terrible, and carry it for the rest of your life, with a special sort of love. the value of failure, and waste, is in that, spoken more i guess, directly, it is that when you are shut up in yourself, mute, and when you cannot find the words, something else comes to you, and when you cannot explain yourself, you are something else, you are fallen between words. a.i cannot fall between, it cannot be anything but the sun, not as solar anus, not as the life-expelling force bataille describes, but the implement of measurement via shadows cast, a ruler set to earth, set to voice and thought to collect data and surveil, a system perfected, something that can encapsulate some of the world.

our next cybernetic apparatus of agitation and gentle discomforts. it will not think for us, it will make us think we think as it does, and thus we will chase the capability, ability to conclude, be read, and to read, falling for the novelty, and whatever.

this isn't to say though, it's utterly useless. ai should probably be used in pointless clerical data entry work, and i don't especially care if some people steal pokemon with it. the palworld thing is so weird because people should be wigged out that people are just getting super into something that seems like ark or whatever. that awful game with the dinosaurs. survival game slop, you do not need anything other than minecraft.

okay i think i got the problem song pretty good. right guitar needs something though... idk what. maybe it's missing some frequency from something i notched.

re-exporting now.

i think it sounds really good now, i hope i feel that way tomorrow. i also just made a new guitar sound thing. i am up too late but at least i'm having fun.

this has too much white noise in it but idk, it's kind of cool, also.

anyway i need to sleep now, or soon, at least, so

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!

[i-cast-teatus-deletus]

Part 3 Entertainment - Books Part 1

I know I said I wouldn't have anything for the entertainment section, but I figure it might be a nice change of pace from my other content.

I don't have a lot of hobbies that I think are interesting or relatable, and your mileage will vary, but I DO think both recovery and the waiting around of the appointment phase is easier with a book or two.

Obviously, your library is a great resource (though I'd be terrified of leaving a library book at the doctor's office), and if you want to get books for free some other way, people on the internet move fast and will have better resources on where to get free books than I do. But I do have two places to get books that I think are hidden gems:

For ebooks: BookBub

Bookbub is a legal site for free and discounted ebooks via publisher discounting schemes. It operates across a variety of devices and bookselling platforms (so you're not inherently locked into amazon or apple books or a specific branded device inherently.) and lets you sort to see specific genres only.

You don't need an account or to sign up for their mailing list to use it (though I think you can get more personalized recommendations with an account, past that I have no idea what having an account does since they are not the selling platform, they basically just advertise the sales).

For paper books: Hamilton Book

There's a lot of places on the internet to buy remaindered (new but unsold) books, but Hamilton (formerly Edward R Hamilton) is my favorite. If you're looking for specific books (especially semi-recent releases), you're very much in the wrong place. But if you have the time and energy to browse what they DO have (which definitely does have some popular authors and series), you can find some really good books for some really good prices. I've gotten new books for as little as $1.95 via Hamilton, and they charge a flat $4 shipping fee. My family has been buying from them since the 90s, when you could only do it via the catalog.

I will add that, back in the 90s, Hamilton made most of their money selling shopworn (lightly damaged) new books, and some of them still are. The overwhelming majority (probably 90+%) of what they sell now is remaindered and is in perfect condition, but I have occasionally gotten books that had torn dust jackets or stains. If you're giving the books as a gift and want to be assured it will look picture-perfect, Hamilton may not be the place to buy, but if you're okay with a single-digit percentage being damaged but readable, you won't find a better deal anywhere.

For some perspective, I think I bought 20 or 30 books from them in the past 18 months, and I got ONE paperback book that had something sticky on the cover and ONE hardback with a torn dust jacket, and both were last chance sales so likely all of the stock left was damaged. Everything else looks perfect, other than the remainder mark.

If books aren't your thing, they also sell remaindered CDs, DVDs, and Blu Rays, as well as having coloring books and puzzle books. I managed to pick up a pair of puzzle books for one of the guys that I've put aside for recovery for a few dollars each.

[presumenothing]

how do you make gifs fancy... as in.... everything..... like, some basics, maybe? what to do and the big no-no's of making gifs 🙏

ok so for technical basics (i.e. step-by-step from downloading video to exporting gif) this is the tutorial i followed! it might look a bit long at first but most of it is repeated steps you can just record and reuse at a click for actual gifmaking, so just grab any short clip you have on hand and go through the process to start with + make sure all your software is set up et cetera

once you get the general hang of things, that's where the fun part comes in – getting to decide how you want your gifs to look! from putting 300 (okay more like 6) adjustment layers to squish the colours your way

to the whole nine yards

yes as you maybe can tell i've been on a COLOURSSSS kick of late

lots of tutorials have been written by infinitely more patient people than i (see those linked here and also generally floating around on tumblr), but basically when it comes down to it the best way is often to just experiment and see what works for you! feel free to ask if you're curious about specific gifs of mine, though admittedly my interests lie in the particular area of "let's see how much i can make things overheat by doing far too many complicated effects at once"

which is to say i don't really think there's much no-nos to be worried about for gifmaking specifically, aside from not whitewashing skin tones (i know i've seen guides for this but tbh just being conscious of it probably goes a long way). and probably general stuff like checking that any text/subtitles are readable (including timing-wise), your post looks fine on both dashboard/mobile, and including warning tags as needed. but most importantly, just have fun with it!

[sorserah]

Mechaniacs - Kirin Jindosh x OC - Chapter V

Summary The story of Dr. Addison Lynch, a neuroscientist who played an important role in the past and will again in the future. (fic from 2017) _________________________________________________ tags: 18+, unethical medicine, blood, violence, neurology, neuroscience, dishonored universe usual type of stuff, first person _________________________________________________ ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8598001/chapters/20178412#workskin

The night was short and full of interruptions. As promised, Meagen visited us every two hours, not the best thing for a light sleeper. After the third time I decided it wasn‘t worth trying anymore.

And I wasn‘t the only one. Jindosh was already sitting on his mattress as well. Now only in his white shirt, with rolled up sleeves and the collar folded down, fumbling with his handcuffs. His scarf was lying next to him. „Don‘t let Meagen or Emily see that.“ he didn‘t answer, just let go of them, leaned back and stared out of the closed metal window. His behavior was concerning and I asked him more carefully this time „Coffee maybe?“ He nodded. I thought he was harder to crack, strange.

As I walked to the kitchen I caught a glimpse at the time, 4.30. Some hot water was already on the stove and I found some coffee powder on the shelf above.

Back in the room he was fumbling with his handcuffs again, this time more desperate. Ignoring his actions I handed him his mug and sat on the ground. The coffee mug standing next to me, I reached for my backpack, spread out my notes in front of me and began sorting them into fine, readable, might be able to recover and trash.

Halfway through I had to stop, the rattling of the chain was louder, more frequent and very annoying. I opened my mouth, ready to throw a furious comment at him, but I kept it under control when I saw him. His mug was standing on the ground, he was desperately shaking the chain of his handcuff - very irrational, even for a person not as intelligent as he is - his face was pale and sweaty, nervously glancing between the door and the windows. Claustrophobia. We needed more space or at least an illusion of it, maybe opening the window will be enough. Without thinking about it twice I stepped over him and opened the window.

A nice cold breeze filled the room. I closed my eyes and inhaled for a second, before I turned and kneeled down in front of Jindosh. He was sitting still now, eyes closed, breathing in and out deeply. „It is okay, I know you can‘t leave right now if you want to, but I am here, we have some fresh air, there won‘t be oxygen deficit in here.“ He nodded and shoved me aside, hands still shaking, then tapping each finger on one hand with his thumb. I left him trying to calm himself and moved back and sat down, watching him from the corner of my eye. His breathing slowed down a bit. I never had a claustrophobic patient, but I read and researched about phobia and fear in general and their neural correlates before. I continued with sorting my work. The ’trash‘ pile climbed up higher and higher, great. I put the last sheet onto the readable pile and observed my finished result. Half of my work was useless. Suddenly angry, I smashed them to a giant ball and threw them out of the window. I felt incredibly empty, my research had been everything I had, everything I could rely on, my main coping method for everything. Some of the sheets were even from before the plague, notes, never published. I felt like crying, but I wasn‘t able to.

I sank down with the back on the wall, until I dropped on the floor. I had been thinking about killing myself some times, once or twice a month, depending on how my research was going and, of course, how I felt in general, but I would never do it. I love life and my work just too much and not all was lost. But right now, I would love to throw myself out of the window into the ocean. One hand left, half of my research gone, nowhere to go, no friends, no family.

At least one of us seems to recover. Jindosh was sitting upright now, his face back at his normal color, the mug of coffee in his hands. He grimaced after he took a gulp and asked towards me „So. What is this all about?“ „These..“ and I needed all of my inner strength to get up and back to my leftovers „..were or are, my research notes from the past 15 years. And half of it, didn‘t survive the bath I had to take.“ I dropped down onto the floor. „I am sorry.“ he answered seriously, he set the mug aside and moved to the edge of the mattress „What was your latest research about? The last thing I read was your article on the role of the frontal lobe and the amygdalae regarding people infected by the plague. Very informing by the way...But 5 years ago you stopped publishing, I wonder why.“ he noted with an evil grin. „Well, not that I didn‘t try. Unfortunately no one wanted to print anything for me anymore.“ I handed him the last few notes I wrote „Here. I assume that the Nest Keepers show the same deficits in the frontal lobe and amygdalae like the plague victims did. I have no real evidence yet. Back at Addermire, research conditions weren‘t the best, but at least I was able to work.“ He scanned the notes and took another sheet from the pile „How did you end up there anyway?“ he mumbled, still absorbed by my notes. „Do you want to hear it from the beginning?“ He nodded. Fine. „I hope there is something in there for me too.“

„When I was 18 I was accepted at the Academy of Natural Philosophy. Most likely only because my parents had been sponsors and made sure I was going to have the best education you can get. 5 years later I got my diploma in medicine and psychology and kept on working and researching there, planning to do my Dr.rer.nat in neuroscience. I was working for Sokolov and with him on his cure for the plague, human test subjects were the norm, extremely efficient, but ethically problematic. Then one day he was gone. Abducted by Corvo, which I didn‘t knew at that point and I didn‘t care. So I was left with healthy and intentionally infected test subjects and the problem, that the elixir was too expensive to cure the whole population of Dunwall. I mixed around a bit until I found the solution that made it cheaper and less effective, but injected and not taken orally, it had almost the same effects.“ „Very interesting biography so far, but I want the dirty details.“ „There were enough infected to work on and I wrote my dissertation on how to cure the plague and the effects of Sokolovs health elixir on the brain and the body...I also took some blood of the infected and with some I mean a lot, before I left the Academy and moved to my parents house a few miles away. It was great, perfect conditions for research since my dad had his laboratory there. Problem was: the plague was over, most of the population cured or the infected banned. And I was trapped in a save zone with my curiosity.“ „Ah, I see, so you simply made your own test subjects.“ „Exactly. And no one knew. After I published said article, some people had doubts, so I told them, I asked Sokolov and took the ones, who weren‘t capable of anything anyway, with me. They believed me...“ „...and you thought why stop there. Why only infected when I can...“ „...have my own subjects, living or dead in every condition I want, when I want. This is what my research was based on. And some of my most popular ones even. 2 years later, I was doing an open brain surgery on a subject, who was a heavy drinker, as the doorbell rang. I thought the sedatives were strong enough, but apparently i miscalculated and he ran past me and my visitors with his head open and brain out. And that is basically what everyone knows, the guards came, searched my house, kicked me out and locked it up and I was asked nicely to leave the city. Human test subjects weren‘t that popular anymore than they were.“ „But what about the three years before you came to Addermire. Why didn‘t you go anywhere else, maybe Karnaca even? I bet someone would have welcomed you with open arms.“ „Dunwall was my home. I only knew this city and I didn‘t know if other ones would be even less accepting. So I hid and worked as a doctor for everything, illegally. Nothing special happened until Dr. Hypatia came by, her altruism guiding her and took me with her to her clinic, where I worked after that. Then she was brought to Addermire after the Duke visited her, the guards recognized me and just locked me up too.“

„Did you talk to Hypatia since then?“ „No, never. Not sure if she was in contact with anyone anyway. Well I mean, except that one day she tried to eat me.“ He simply nodded, nothing else. „You knew. You knew something was wrong with Hypatia.“ Jindosh answered still calm „Not directly. I know the Duke and his...methods. I was not informed, it just makes sense.“ he answered and after a break „Do you regret it?“

I had to think about that, I have asked myself this question many times in the past few years. „I do. But I don‘t know only because I got caught or if I am convinced that there are morally and ethically better ways for research, because I know that this is the case. The thing is, the results I got were just extremely interesting and efficient. So would I do it again? And I only tell you this, because I know you understand: I would.“

She would. Interesting indeed. We had a lot in common.

Of course I knew what the Duke had done to Hypatia, he did not tell me, but with my clockwork soldiers everywhere, there was nothing I could not miss.

Faking the panic attack or rather enhancing it, was easy. Thanks to cognitive behavior therapy and my mansion, I kept my claustrophobia under control, but I knew it needs just one push, one small misattribution, to get the full palette of symptoms. She was there opening the window, even though she was not allowed to and will probably be punished. She was there, to calm me. And she told me, everything. What I heard and read about her the past few years was, she was always alone, never had any deeper relationships, the only research partner she worked with was Sokolov. Her attitude towards Emily Kaldwin seemed to be neutral to negative, to me, rather positive. Why? Maybe because I am the only one reliable to talk to? Maybe she thinks I am interesting, maybe she simply changed over the years.

So I had to test her, what side was she on? The results: mine and hers. I thought about working with her for some time, now. Projects, in which a neuroscientist with her knowledge, experience and skills would fit in perfectly and one with her back story and motivation even more. The question remains if she will let me use her and why.

The words ’I might have made a big mistake ‘ still circling in my head. Drinking was a mistake. I had never thought about it before, but doubts started to rise. „Do you regret it?“ I don‘t know.

[literary-illuminati]

Books I Read In July

31. India In The Persianate Age by Richard M. Eaton

So this has been on my list for, like, 2 years(?),since I asked for recs on Indian history after finishing After Tamerlane and someone mentioned it. Having finished it - good recommendation! Shockingly readable, and if absolutely nothing else has given me a basic understanding of the broad strokes of medieval Indian history. (Now just to read up on the Congo basin and points south, and South-East Asia, and I’ll have something like an extraordinarily cursory understanding of the political history of the entire world).

But no it really was interesting. Beaton’s central thesis - that it’s more useful to think of medieval India as a period of conflict and syncretization between Persianiate and Sanskrit cultural spheres, not a period of holy war and strict us-them divides - seems a bit overstated, but it’s definitely worth taking seriously (and certainly a useful corrective to the political narratives that have dominated since). The Mughal’s in particular seemed to have been a really syncretic empire, legitimized by islamic clergy but with Rajputs and other hindu aristocrats playing keys roles in just about all realms of the state, and the symbolism  and rhetoric of the state definitely seemed to be pretty thoroughly syncretized by the eighteenth century. 

Also, like, to the extent there even is a popular memory of the Mughals in the west, it’s definitely of the ‘ancient, decadent empire’ sort, so useful to remember that they’re almost quintessentially early modern. 

It’s mostly an aside in the book, but one thing that really did strike me (largely because it agreed with what I remember of  Darwin’s take in After Tamerlane) is that the colonization of India was in large part only possible because India was so much like Europe - The collapse of the Mughals sort of rhymes with general anarchy of the Early Modern in terms of giving opportunities for state formation, and more specifically there had been something like an Indian Military Revolution leaving large populations of trained professional mercenaries very skilled at their craft and without much loyalty beyond their next paychecks, and (probably more importantly, especially in Bengal) fairly sophisticated credit markets that could be tapped to provide capital for military adventures. If the Brits hadn’t been able to tap into both the military and credit markets and exploit them to the hilt, there’s simply no way they would have been able to exploit the opportunities they did and dominate the subcontinent. 

Which definitely does lead one to wonder how much of a delay you’d need to allow proper Indian fiscal-military states to consolidate on their own and resist complete European domination/jump into the empire-building game themselves, and what that would have looked like. From my (again, very vague) understanding of it, the Sikh Empire and Sultanate of Mysore managed to get pretty close to fighting the Brits on even ground even historically. 

32. The Galaxy and the Ground Within by Becky Chambers

Hugo novel nominee 6 out of 6! We did it! Confetti and sparklers! 

Okay it’s not really hate-reading but I’ve literally read all but one thing Chambers has ever published at this point, I think. Please don’t let the sequel to Hymn to the Wild Build get nominated for a Hugo next year. 

But no honestly I didn’t even hate this one. Extremely readable - would have been great for a train ride or day stuck in an airport - and it even has a bit of interpersonal conflict! Little, little bit, argument lasts for three pages before they agree to disagree, and I get the feeling I’m supposed to find one side much more obviously correct than I do, but still! 

I’ve said it before, but I really do want to like the Wayfarers universe. And, well, in large part that assuredly just because I can’t think of any other proper space opera settings that have even slightly taken off that are newer than Mass Effect, and also it’s the blessedly rare setting where the entire universe isn’t warped around the sheer magnetic Specialness of humanity, but still, it’s a fun, well-thought out setting! Would love to read a story with a plot set in it some day! 

Though the whole Aeluon demographics thing is still bothering me - a population can’t recover from a bottleneck when the average number of kids per potential mother is less than two! Especially when they’ve got the whole galactic military superpower thing going on. They should still be slowly limping to extinction! (and really, if you actually want to dig into the drama of a huge cultural expectation to have kids, that seems like a way richer vein to tap anyway.)

33. Six-Gun Snow White Catherynne Valente 

So on account of really loving The Past Is Red, and still having lines from The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland stuck in my head on occasion, and having gone feral over L’Esprit de L’Escalier when it came out last year, I just kind of decided to put holds on every Valente book my library had (there were a lot). Of the three I’ve read so far, this was easily the weakest 

I mean the conceit is good - I still adore retelling fairytales and classics in new settings (fuck you I will defend 10 Things I Hate About You and She’s The Man to my dying breath), I love mixing up any post-medieval time period with mythic/fantasy elements, and the prose and imagery is still mostly very good. 

But after the first act the whole thing just felt very confused and meandering and not sure what to do with itself, honestly. And maybe I’m just not cultured enough to get it, but the ending really fell a bit flat imo. 

34. Crashed: How a Decade of Financial Crises Changed The World by Adam Tooze

Since he’s the public intellectual of the moment, and also because my god I knew less about the history of the Great Finacial Crisis than I thought I did. 

So beyond an understanding of just how long the crsis lasted and how comparatively hypercompetent the Chinese government was compared to anyone else, I have mostly been left with an incredible disdain for the European elite in general and Germany’s political class in particular. Just, totally fucked everything up and made everything worse for everyone, for almost no reason whatsoever. France comes out smelling of roses and seeming well-governed, by comparison. France!

Beyond that, it really just was a decade where the West’s most salient political divide was between well-heeled technocrats trying to keep global capitalism running relatively smoothly and the inarticulate nationalist screaming, huh? Truly depressing era for the left. (tbf so are most of them).

Relatedly but wow has spending the last section on Ukraine made this book age amazingly. More topical now than four years ago, somehow.

35. Comfort Me With Apples by Catherynne Valente

So this one I liked a fair bit better than Snow White, though honestly it really could have been a short story instead of a novella. The bits of the HOA agreement for the magical-realist-suburb the story takes place in before each chapter were clever and nicely dystopian/faerie-ish. 

The whole conceit of the Garden of Eden as this stifling hyper-manicured stepford wives gated community was generally really well done, but as previously mentioned I’m an extremely easy sell for that sortof thing. It really did take me altogether too long to realize that all the other people had animal names, so it seemed clever to me when that was pointed out anyway.

Beyond that it was all a bit confused, really. Blasphemous in a 1990s feminist fantasy sort of way? Adam is also Bluebeard, a giant and a brute who murders his wives when they realize what he is after finding the mementos he keeps, or otherwise displease him and then demanding his Father make him a new one, Eve eventually convincing him to eat the Apple is something like an analogy to poisoning an abusive husband. That sort of thing. 

36. Deathless by Catherynne Valente

Now this one, this one was good, IMO. But then like I said, I’m an easy sell for twentieth century fairy tales, and even moreso Soviet ones. And Valente really leaned into the fairy tale-ness with this one, all the rich description and obscure metaphors and triptychs upon trptychs upon triptychs. Also the little domestic/family spirits who’d gotten cooped together in communal housing like everyone else and formed a housing committee to start making the place bigger on the inside (and realized that they can cause far more trouble for people by being informants than just spoiling milk) and the kazakh dragon whose horde is oil and wheat were both great. 

The plot was, honestly, still rather meandering. But hey, when it’s a novel length fairy tale that kind of comes with the territory. And being in Marya’s head was always enjoyable. 

…really don’t have too much to say about this one except that it was good, honestly. 

37. A Spindle Splintered by Alix E. Harrow

And Hugo Novella Nominee number five!

So I absolutely adored Ten Thousand Doors of January, which was also the only thing by Harrow I’d previously read. So it’s possible I went in with overinflated expectations. But still, this was honestly a pretty big dissapointment. 

And okay, part of it is, just like songs about how sexy being a musician is or dense essays about how criticism and Studying Theory are moral imperatives, stories about how ~important~ stories are have to be really good to not leave me rolling my eyes. And that goes double and triple for stuff that just leans into many worlds theory to justify itself about why there are all these convenient parallel worlds where fairy tales are real exactly as you imagine them, and triple for stuff that tries to get all cute and meta about all the cliches but then still expect you to take it seriously. 

So I mean, even going in, this probably wasn’t the book for me. But still, it was just so…impressed with itself? Or no, that’s unfair, more that the reviews and marketing copy on the book jacket were impressed with it. And I just..didn’t see it? If it wasn’t gay the entire plot seems like it could have been a made-for-tv movie I watched as a kid. Certainly not exactly ‘subversive’ or ‘groundbreaking’ or whatever. 

Also I was kind of surprised how how fucked up the original Sleeping Beauty story was (Princeess didn’t wake up with true love’s kiss, she woke up when the prince rapes her while she sleeps, she gets pregnant, and her newborn baby suckles the splinter out of her finger) was treated as this, like, shocking revelation. I mean I was absolutely a miserable child who sought these things out but still, pretty sure I’d heard that by the time I was 14. Like Cinderella’s stepsisters slicing chunks of their feet off to fit in the slipper, y’know?

[alovelyburn]

Rambles about the Golden Age Part 14

Rambles about the Golden Age Part 14

Today we’re covering the rescue through the death of Wyald. Making some progress! 

This whole part is heartbreaking, I’m just saying. And the next one is also going to be pretty depressing!

So...

1. I don’t quite remember much about the first time I read Berserk, but what I do remember is from this point forward I probably cried a hundred times. Just seeing him in that state -- the entire post-rescue Golden Age, to be honest, was incredibly difficult to read and I think this is the first reread I’ve done where I didn’t feel sort of tempted to skip it. 

All that said, one of the frustrating things about this whole period is that Griffith is kept internally silent (and obviously externally silent as well). I think this actually has a pretty powerful effect fro me as a reader - he is viewed from the outside, so we are as unclear about where his head is and what he wants or thinks as anyone else. But I do think he is readable from visual cues and....

...ok one thing I keep seeing is that Griffith is a hateful shell of his former self and despises Guts because he blames him for the imprisonment. The thing is, that’s not untrue, right? At least not at first. It is a fact that he went on at some length about the conflict in his heart about Guts, and the list is quite long - malice, friendship, jealousy, futility, tenderness, sorrow, pain, hunger. All the feelings one gets when they are deeply hurt by someone they love. And, of course....

The first thing he does when he sees Guts is try to strangle the life out of him. There’s that malice and pain. But the thing is, if you want to say that he hates Guts based on that, then you have to take the whole scene into account as well as their history. Not that I approve of people trying to strangle each other, but from Griffith’s perspective he was extremely close to and reliant on Guts - the only person he loves and trusts - and then abandoned out of nowhere with no explanation. He thinks Guts is disgusted by him and that pain drove him into a mindset where he burned his whole life down. 

Again, not okay to strangle people, but that’s the logic, right? Which is why it’s important that when he sees Guts crying for him, when Guts grieves for him...

...all the malice and anger dissipate and what does he do? He tries to comfort Guts by resting his hand on Guts’ just like he did for Casca so many times. It’s that easy. All he needed was to know Guts didnt hate him. Basically. 

And not to get ahead of myself, but from this point until the last moments before the Eclipse, he really isnt hateful or angry, just... sad but otherwise all right. Anyway we’ll get to that later. Now.

2. A lot’s been said about this torturer and specifically what he did to Griffith. Because that line about being husband and wife is pretty suggestive, not to ,mention hes literally licking Griffith’s tongue here. Also he is referred to as a pervert and is displayed in the guidebook alongside Donovan.

I have no idea whether he sexually abused Griffith directly, but I do think it’s fairly obvious that it was a sexual experience for the torturer, it’s just a question of whether it was the torture alone that he got off on or if he did other things too. I don’t know, and other than saying this guy is a complete idiot who gets a somewhat quicker death than he actually deserves when Guts runs him through and throws him into the pit. 

And there’s Judeau recognizing that Casca is in extreme danger of falling back into her old pattern with Griffith. 

3. I love watching Guts work. So does Griffith, he always did - after all, it was seeing him chop Bazuso up that made him want Guts to begin with. So what’s with the stare... well I aside from how watching Guts makes him feel on a personal level, I imagine it’s also incredibly difficult to watch since he can’t do anything to help. I imagine some combination of resentment, lust, admiration, and frustration is in play here. 

4. There’s a certain irony to the King whining that Griffith should have rotted away by now when he’s the one who insisted he live for a year. He has no one to blame for all this but himself - Charlotte wouldn’t have cut him off if he hadn’t sexually assaulted her and locked the man she loves in a dungeon to be dismantled. And insisting on killing him sure isn’t going to help his case with her.

5. One of the theories I see tossed around a lot is that Griffith is angry because Guts took his most loyal soldier (Casca) and that’s his problem. ...that’s silly. There’s literally no point to having soldiers now and he’s not an idiot, he knows that. And he never had that much interest in Casca anyway - that always strikes me as a way to No Homo a way around what IMO is fairly obvious - he’s jealous because he can tell Casca and Guts have something going on and he’s in love with Guts. The first of the two panels on the second row establishes the scene he’s seeing and the second establishes what he’s focused on, which is Guts (drawn in a sensual way). And that look in his eyes, that’s almost always shown when he’s looking at Gut - he’s the only person Griffith consistently has that reaction to.

6. She’s a little in denial here, but at the same time I’ve always liked that his physical condition didn’t repulse her or make her turn away from him. I don’t think Charlotte gets enough credit for being strong (even if quietly so) and loyal even in the face the greatest tests.

Right down to the point where she nearly dies to protect him.

But I can’t imagine how terrifying it would be to the Hawks here to have potentially gotten Charlotte killed. 

How is that even an exchange?  Anyway.

So later we find out that what he says to her is “I’ll come back for you.” I will say right now that I don’t think he believes that for a second. He’s just trying to get her to leave so that she won’t die.

Obviously there’s less to say about battle scenes, but I do have a couple of comments:

7. There’s a thing that happens with the Hawks and Griffith later on that I find quite disturbing. Just the way they talk about him and treat him in general after he comes out of that dungeon. And this page is kind of noteworthy toward that issue because the thing is...

One of the reasons watching him in this state is so hard to see is that his mind is still completely intact. He’s just as brilliant, just as quick thinking, just as observant - and this isn’t news, I mean his body was savaged not his mind. 

But the way Guts (and Casca) express surprise that he was the one who tipped Pippin off to the crack in the ceiling is a bit of a warning sign for me that even though his mind is there, not everyone is going to think about that - they may even assume otherwise. 

8. This whole scene - the quiet before the storm. I think it’s incredibly important to establishing a few things: first of all, the fact that Casca so easily falls back into Griffith’s grip, which Guts does see: 

And just like he suspected he would, he really just accepts it. This tendency he has to assume that Casca would just pick Griffith over him every time, which is honestly correct (at least until the Eclipse) ends up being a sore spot for him even post-Eclipse - it’s played into when she runs to Griffith on the Hill of Swords, for example. It helps that his initial belief, going back to what he said to Judeau before he left the Hawks, was that Griffith and Casca were sort of... supposed to be together. And now that his dream is gone and he’s no longer unconquerable, it becomes evident that Casca is just as wrapped up in Griffith as she ever was - and just as wrapped up in Griffith as Guts is, himself.

The other thing, though, is how quiet and peaceful and mild Griffith is. I’m a little baffled by people who think he spent this whole time fuming and plotting revenge on Guts or whatever - he’s... okay? He’s at peace. I’m not saying he’s happy, of course he can’t be overwhelmed with happiness given what he’s lost. But he’s not.... angry, he’s not hateful. He rests quietly, smiles as the innkeeper who helps them, and ultimately as they leave Windham, he lets go of those flowers, and his dreams, seemingly forever, as the castle he reached for fades in the distance.

I don’t believe he’s bitter and resentful. I do think he feels the loss of what he was and what he hoped to achieve, but for the moment at least he seems... at peace?

It’s predictable that what shakes him out of that is of course, danger to Guts. Because when Guts is going off on Wyald, you get one of the most heartbreaking moments in the series:

The last time Guts fought an Apostle (not that they know that’s what they are), he and Griffith both nearly died. Watching Guts fight Wyald, Griffith is visibly upset upfront, and then when he’s been hidden in a cave to protect him, he clearly wants to go help Guts, but he can’t.  And once Wyald unleashes his apostle form it just gets worse:

As he has his standard quiet panic attacks and ultimately physically struggles to go and help the obviously in danger of dying Guts. He clenches his teeth so hard he literally bleeds.

And anyone who thinks he didn't care about Casca try to explain to me why he’s desperately trying to go to her when Wyald assaults her.

Anyway, love seeing Guts basically learn on the spot how to fight Apostles - knowledge that comes in great handy for literally the rest of his life to date.

9. Casca’s continued tug of war between Guts and Griffith is pretty interesting - I’m not sure if you could say her interest in Griffith is romantic as such at this point - between her not-a-relationship (per Miura lol) with Guts and Griffith’s current condition, she does seem to have transitioned into a caretaker mode. Which isn’t to say the feelings aren’t still in there, but they’ve gone latent I guess since that’s not what Griffith needs right now. 

In fact, that kind of recalls my comment on the cave scene waaaaaay back when - though she was in love with Griffith ultimately I do think what Casca wanted most was to be able to give him what he needed the way he had done for her. Which means his current state ends up dragging her old feelings back up because now he finally does need her.

That said, she ping pongs a lot between uncertainty and commitment. After starting to drift away from Guts throughout the rescue and progressively falling back into her old pattern of circling Griffith like a satellite, seeing Guts in such danger pulls her out of it and drops her back where she was when they were first making promises to each other, and it’s evident in how coupley they act in this moment and in the wagon bandaging scene - all while Griffith continues to take mental notes on that relationship. 

...honestly I do kind of struggle with the insensitivity of doing all these things in front of Griffith’s face considering how much he’s been through. But admittedly I dont think she could help it. 

I had a whole section here about the Holy See and Casca’s name but eh, I guess I’ll do that next time. Anyway...

10. This is one of my favorite scenes in the entire manga, but also fuck this scene it’s too heartbreaking. I honestly don’t understand how anyone perceives him as a hateful scheming evil monster in this period of his life. To me, he is just... fragile. Happy to be out of the dungeon, but heartbroken at what it cost. Happy to see Guts again, but unwilling to let himself be seen by him. Guts says he can take the mask off because its only them, but of course I doubt there’s anyone in the world he wants to see him in tatters less than Guts.... because of his pride, and because of his love.

This scene has that Grizabella in Memory feeling - the once beautiful one who has fallen and is reminding themselves of who they were before. But make no mistake, Griffith is very aware that he can’t recover from this. No matter how much Guts tries to reassure him...

He knows what’s happening. I mean for one thing he was the one there when it happened. Also all of his studies, all those things he learned in his quest to be great, would have told him what was done to him isn’t recoverable. 

It’s also incredibly sad to me that it took this to let Guts talk to Griffith the way he used to - as a person - and to see him on the ground instead of on a pedestal. The way he talks to Griffith is just. Almost the way I imagine they were before Promrose got Guts’ head screwed on backwards. 

It’s sad and wistful but... fond? I don’t know, it’s just a sad, beautiful scene between two people who love each other immensely however you care to define that. 

AND THEN WYALD COMES BACK TO MESS IT UP HAHAA.

So, I’m actually kind of annoyed that Wyald gets cut out of adaptations because I do think it’s a crucial part of the story - I get that he’s kinda nasty and censor unfriendly, but he serves two major purposes, I think.

First, he is the first apostle Guts defeats, and fighting him is really what teaches Guts how to fight and defeat apostles. Without this scene, the leap from getting his butt handed to him quick like a fast food order to fighting apostles in the eclipse or killing them outright in the black swordsman era seems kind of random.

Second, and perhaps even more important, it serves to point out That Thing that’s been bothering me. The thing that always bothers me when I think about post-torture Griffith and his relationship with the Hawks, but honestly also pre-torture Griffith and the Hawks, namely they do not treat or see him as human. Wyald calls them out on seeing him as their precious thing and that’s what he is. They didn’t even rescue him just to rescue him, they did it so that he could save them from their life as bandits by building them back up. And Miura went out of his way to have them say that in the leadup to his rescue, and then have Wyald here point to it directly.

Basically my feeling is that the Hawks loved and respected him but as the White Hawk, rather than as Griffith. And this is partially something he did to himself right, because he constructed the image of a perfect leader - a symbol, which is what he is to a LOT of people from the commoners who take pride in seeing one of them rise to the nobles who saw him as evidence of a dangerous incursion on their dominance. To the Hawks, he was superhuman - Casca describes the way they saw him - the way she saw him herself before she had a reality check through the Gennon situation: a miracle. He was able to take a bunch of people who are ultimately fairly ordinary and turn them into something special and they loved him for that but of course they don’t know him as a person. In that sense they loved him for what he is able to do for them and how he reflects on them rather than who he is, because they don’t know him.

That caused immense pressure even when he was still in his prime, but because Griffith is a strong person -- because he forces himself to be strong -- he was able to carry that on his back without showing the strain. But now, because he has lost his gleam and can no longer bring them glory or help them rebuild the way they assumed he would, he loses his superhuman glow... but he’s still not a person to them. He is a doll. And that plays out very distinctly in the next bit of this arc - which I will get to another day - when they discuss where to put him and who should watch him like they’re settling custody of their pet dog or their stamp collection or something. 

Anyway I’ve talked about this before both here and on the g/g server, and I would have thought maybe I was reading too much into it, except Wyald literally calls them out on it, so.

I wish these things didn’t have the white bar in the center because this is a phenomenal double page spread... and a fantastic turn of events. Because after chapter upon chapter of Guts and the Hawks in general barely managing to scrape by and survive Wyald, when Zodd shows up it’s immediately evident that, in the scale of things, Wyald is a relative small fry vs. apostles like Zodd. Not just because he;s just physically much larger than Wyald but because of how the Hawks react to Zodd and the way Wyald reacts to Zodd.

It will also always be interesting to me that Zodd seems to act like an agent of the Godhand like he’s Gmork or something. 

And I wonder what would happen if Wyald HAD killed Griffith there. Would a secondary choice get the call instead? Or is it impossible for Wyald to kill him... in the sense that the world/idea of evil has spun the story and Griffith doesn’t die here in that story?

Finally, Wyald’s true form, the broken old man... the guide book implied that his sacrifice was a lover, so i wonder if he sacrificed his wife or something. I guess we’ll never know.

[tooweirdforyou]

Maybe » Aomine Daiki

Aomine Daiki x Chubby! Fem! Reader

A/N : hi! My second non one piece fic so yay, I’m happy it’s for KnB and Aomine! Please enjoy! :3

note : I had soooo many ideas for thisssss but instead of my original idea, I went for something a little more Cliché ;-;

Summary : after being friends with Aomine for so long and developing feelings, you keep shut about them and protect your friendship. And then, Aomine finds out about what’s been happening.

-

“Daiki, would you get up already?”

No response came from dark blue haired athlete other than the gentle snores that escaped his lips.

You roll your eyes and went to pick up the women’s magazine that was opened across his face, just as the tan one sighs heavily and grunts out.

“Oi.. [Name]? Where’s Satsuki?” He groans, turning onto his side and pulls off the magazine from his face.

He takes a look to see the page he was looking at to be one of those thicker, curvy models.

You sigh and walk around to face him, kneeling in front of him once again, your thick thighs exposing itself from your skirt.

“She’s managing the boys at practice. She asked me to come get you.”

Aomine grunts out in annoyance at your words and looks up to see your face, staring down at him. He moved onto his back and continues looking at you.

“...”

His silence makes you smile a bit in defeat and exhale. “Come on, sleeping beauty, you need to get to practice. Otherwise, Satsuki will have my ass.”

“I’m too tired.” Aomine mutters, turning back onto his side, turning so he faced you this time and stares up at you lazily.

Examining your features in silence, Aomine took in your appearance at the moment.

There wasn’t a readable expression on his face so you couldn’t guess what he was thinking. His staring did cause your cheeks to pinken as his eyes shifted down.

He eyes your legs for a moment, the staring hard enough to make you shift to ignore it, as you poked him.

“Come on, just get up, please?” You plead making Aomine pout and close his eyes to avoid your expression. “I don’t care, I don’t wanna..” he sulks quietly.

You heave a heavy sigh and pat your skirt down and hum, leaning close to his face, his eyes still shut.

“I’ll buy you the latest issue of the swimsuit catalog for you~” you sang, in hopes of convincing him to get you.

The blue haired athlete opens an eye to come face to face with you, inches away, and seeing how close you were to him causes him to swallow and turn away, covering his eyes with his arms.

Fortunately, it seems it worked.

“...hmph, idiot.. I want the latest issue of the swimsuit catalog, the lingerie catalog, and I want bread..” He announces, pulling up his hand and bringing down a finger for each one he counted.

You roll your eyes playfully at him, and you held your pinky out for him. “Stupid pervert, it’s a deal.”

Aomine merely grins and moves his arm to face you again, connecting his pinky with yours and you both kissed your thumbs. Something you two did together since you were kids.

“I’ll be waiting.” Aomine grunts as he forces himself up and dusts his clothes, holding his hand out for you to take. “You better remember.”

You lift your hand to take his and helped yourself up, dusting your skirt. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t think I could forget my best friend’s perverted desires.”

“You think too low of me.” Aomine furrows his brows as he began headed to the ladder.

“Do I?”

“Idiot.”

Shrugging, you head down after him, being sure to threaten him if he even dared look up at you as you climbed down, and headed to the gymnasium together.

—

Gently setting down your things on the ground by the door, jacket and cellphone, you went over to greet the coach and players.

“[Name]! Daiki!”

The pink haired manager runs over excitedly, practically bouncing with joy and stars in her eyes at the sight of them.

“You managed to convince him! Thanks so much!”

“Tch, you can’t even get me yourself, making [Name] do all the work.” Aomine scoffs and Satsuki pouts. “I’m busy doing my job and managing the others boys! Besides, only [Name] knows best how to get you to come.”

The pinkette widens her eyes and turns to you. “How did you manage to get him anyways?”

You gave a side glance to Aomine, who was too busy yawning and looking away to notice and you simply shrug. “He knows better.”

Satsuki just giggles a bit and grabs your hands, her clipboard tucked under her arm. “Thanks so much again, [Name]. I owe you one.”

“No problem, Satsuki.” You smile softly at her and watch her pull away to begin pushing Aomine to change.

“Alright, alright, stop pushing me.” Aomine grumbles as he walks forward, stumbling every few steps. He then turns back to give a smirk to you. “Keep your promise, you!”

“Of course I will!” You scoff, waving at him and smiling nonetheless, and began to head out after bidding goodbye to the other players and the coach.

Passing the viewers from up top, you hear particular comments.

“What promise could that fat girl make with Aomine?”

“Can’t be to spread her legs for him.. no guy would want a big girl like that.”

“Obviously. How does Aomine even know a piggy like her anyways?”

Their hushed voices and obvious stares only make you smile forcefully and walk out silently, ignoring their comments.

It wasn’t like it was the first time you heard something like that.

-

As soon as you open your locker, you find a couple notes slipping out from being held in place. You glance down before crouching and picked each one up, reading them as you did so.

‘Get some exercise, piggy!’

‘Lay off the foods for a while already.’

‘How can you stand to be so big? How does anything fit you?’

The bitter smile that formed from the sight made your heart heavy but you didn’t say a word.

It was a regular occurrence anyways.

It didn’t make you feel any better, considering your walk over to your locker, other students in the halls were pointing and staring over at you, as if you were a display.

As if it was strange to see someone like you there, someone big, where everyone else was thin.

You rip them up in two and set the pieces aside in your locker, grabbing your bag. About to shut your locker, you find the printed sheets Satsuki asked you to do and sigh.

“Better now before I forget..” you mumble to yourself, taking the ripped pieces and the printed sheets into your separate hands and closed your locker.

Slinging the strap of the bag over your shoulder, you begin heading back to the gymnasium so you could finally get home afterwards.

The gossiping whispers didn’t stop. Didn’t they have somewhere to be instead of loitering the halls?

Choosing to distract yourself, you thought about Aomine. The tall, tan, dark blue-haired athlete. It still made you surprised at your friendship but it was one of the best things that happened to you.

It was genuine, Satsuki and Aomine truly appreciated you and you appreciated them, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them.

The only you could regret was your developing feelings for the athlete. An athlete dating a chubby girl? Even you could laugh thinking about it.

However, you figured Satsuki had the same, so you could only suppress them.

Plus, you didn’t want to ruin Aomine’s image.

It seems you distracted yourself too much, because as soon as you turned the corner, you bumped into someone, causing the two of you to stumble back, the both of you falling.

“O-Oh, I’m so so-“ despite you also falling, you look to the opposite person to apologize, but you were cut off by her scream.

“Oh my gosh! She touched me! Oh my gosh, get away from me, fat girl! You could’ve crushed me!”

The other girl, seemingly her friend, quickly helped her up and both glared hard down at me.

“W-What? I-“

“Are you seriously talking to me? Oh my gosh, Sera, let’s go to the locker rooms so I can wash this filth off me.” The other girl nods as they begin to walk off, but a third voice cuts in.

“Let me help you with that.”

Before any of you could react, the rude girl was suddenly soaked with water, emitting a surprised shriek from her once again.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck are you-!” The three of you turned to see a particular tanned male and your eyes widen.

“Daiki?!”

“Aomine!”

His ignorance towards you made you furrow your eyebrows, his attention kept on the two girls.

“There, all cleaned, now get the hell out of here.”

It was clear the girls were stunned at Aomine’s attitude and overall appearance, but even worse, was his piercing, sharp glare sent to them that sent shivers down their spine, and even you could feel a bit of goosebumps.

“Aomine.. we were just—“

“I don’t really care. Get lost already, it’s a bother to hear your voice.” His glare immediately disappears and he rolls his eyes, turning away with disinterest.

The girls gaped at that and quickly scurried off, you barely noticing her tears from her wet skin.

Once the girls were gone for good, Aomine immediately turns to you, making you startled. His gaze down at you makes you a bit uncomfortable but you continued to stare at him.

“Daiki.. what are you doing-?..”

His stride towards you makes you stop your words and watch him grab your wrist and help you up to your feet.

And then suddenly, he pins you to the wall, hand still gripping your wrist and other placing itself beside your head.

His lazy, unreadable expression is plastered as he leans close. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, as if it’s searching for something.

His peripherals then catch sight of the ripped papers and he snatches them away, pulling away to read the writing.

“H-Hey! Daiki!”

The athlete doesn’t say anything and you can’t reach for it back because he’s so tall.

Aomine silently connects the papers together and reads the full text, and you can’t see his expression since he turns away, but you find his hands clenched tightly into fists, muscles tensed and veins forming as he crushed the papers.

It scares you a little bit to see, so you try to calm him down, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s fine, okay? It doesn’t bother me anymore, so just-“

“Anymore?.. so it has before?” Aomine scoffs. You flinch and sigh. “Maybe, but look, I don’t care about it so let’s drop it, okay?”

Aomine clicks his tongue and turns around to look at you, an irritated yet pained expression taking over. You could actually read it.

“You know... you really are an idiot.”

You pout at that and frown. “The nickname really is unnecessary. You’ve been calling me that since I tripped over my own to feet and spilled my ice cream on myself when we were like, twelve.”

“Because you really were an idiot then! You tripped over nothing.”

“I tripped over some rocks, you jerk!” You scowl, shoving him which caused a small smile to form despite his pained expression seconds prior. His heart still ached knowing you were being bullied like this.

Aomine just shrugs and walks off, making you surprised. “W-Wait, why’d you even come here anyways? You should be at practice.” You began jogging after him.

He stops suddenly, lifting something off his shoulder. It was your jacket and your phone was in his hand, having taken it out from his pocket just now.

“You left it in the gym earlier. I didn’t want you to freak out and forget, and then not text me when you got home safe.”

Your eyes widen at you recall placing it down by the door. “Oh..” you must’ve forgotten when you were ignoring those girls from before. “Thanks..”

You reach up to take it from his hands and think back on his words, tightening your grip on your belongings. Aomine gives a long glance to you before taking your hand.

He holds it up and pressed his palm against yours quietly, you watching silently as he slowly intertwined your fingers and wraps his arm around your body. The action was enough to cause your cheeks to warm but you didn’t protest.

Pulling you close, he tightens his embrace, afraid to let go. “Hey, I..” he pauses for a moment, leaning down more so he was by your ear.

He thought for a few seconds before deciding to change his mind. Aomine shuts his eyes and relaxed himself.

“Nevermind.. just get home safe.. and promise to tell me if something like this happens again. Okay?”

His voice is a whisper, and you can’t see his face but you can hear his weak tone.

“I will.. I promise.”

You slowly pull away and held out your pinky again, smiling softly when he connects his with yours and kissed his thumb.

You thought about confessing to him. Now is the perfect time, isn’t it?.. but, the small fraction of you that’s scared, overpowers your confidence and you just smile at your friend.

“I’ll text you when I get home. Thanks again, and give this to Satsuki when you get back.” Handing the printed sheets to him, you take a step back and wave, slowly turning.

“See you tomorrow, Daiki.”

“..Yeah.. See you.”

You both turn away from each other in the hall, both wearing a somewhat pained expression for similar reasons and shared the same thoughts.

‘Maybe one day... one day I’ll confess to him/her..’

—

A/N : this is all over the place and not really meshing well together but look, I’m tired. I literally got the vaccine recently and I’m so freaking sore.

Also, is it normal to have chills? The next day, I was FREEZING all day.

[shitpostingfromthebarricade]

Hey!

I don't know if you're the right person to ask, but I want to read Les Mis in english (not my first language) and I wonder which translation you'd recommend?

Thanks for any reply!

Hi!

So there's a lot of takes on this question, so I'd like to open by saying that any translation you pick will tell the story of Les Mis and also that most people imprint on their first translation anyway; as someone who is reading in a language that is not your first, I'm sure that some translations may have strengths that I as a native English speaker wouldn't consider, and I encourage you to explore as possible.

With that said, I'm going to try to answer this question below the cut in a bit more depth.

Wraxall: first English translation (1862), released in England. In my experience, not particularly bad nor particularly illuminating. I mostly own this translation for the absolutely lovely Lynd Ward illustrations.

Wilbour: first American English translation (1863). The language is a bit dated and unclear in some spots (and there is a later edition that clarifies some of these points — keep reading), but overall it's pretty solid.

(there's an obscure American translation from around this time from the Confederacy that cuts out all denunciations of slavery that I do not personally recommend for obvious reasons)

Hapgood: Hapgood (1887) is the translation you'll always see online for free. If a copy of Les Mis does not specify the translator, it is most likely Miss Isabel Hapgood. I personally find Hapgood a bit difficult to parse in some areas, but I've also been assured that many spots align very closely with a literal translation from French and that people who do speak French like that. In my opinion, because it is the one that is free and also the easiest to find, I would recommend buying a physical copy of a different translation or holding out for a Hapgood with a very pretty cover; however, if Hapgood's what you want and/or what you have available, please, get Hapgood. (If it matters at all, I think that this is the translation that most of The Iconic quotes come from, in case you're waiting for that iconic "Do you permit it?" and don't wanna get slapped by a "Is it okay?")

After Isabel is a long period with no new translations, and then suddenly we see a revival.

Denny: Norman was the first in a long time (1976) to translate Les Mis, and if I understand correctly, his aim was to make it more readable and accessible, which he definitely accomplished. His translation can be a bit contentious in the fandom community because of the liberties he takes in it, but ultimately it is the same story, all of the most important pieces are there, and it's pretty to boot.

Fahnestock-MacAfee (FMA): FMA is pretty much cleaned-up Wilbour from 1987. I know Wilbour fans who have tried FMA and not really cared for it, but in my supremely biased opinion (FMA was my first and is my general favorite), I think FMA does a good job clarifying some points and in offering translations for some of the French while still maintaining the more classic style of speech.

Rose: This translation was released in 2008 and definitely has the most conversational air of the translations here, to the point at times of being jarring. I think (aside from maybe Denny) it may be the easiest to read on this list if you're hoping to avoid wackier sentence constructions, but there are also spots that feel weirdly modern and casual. I would be remiss in not mentioning that Julie Rose is also the first translator to include (non-translation) footnotes!! And they are structured very clearly and conveniently rather than making you flip back and forth between the back of the book searching to see if the author left you little clues like crumbs in a forest CHRISTINE.

Donougher: The most recent translation to be released as of April 2022 (2013), Donougher's style is very flowery. I've heard people say it's beautiful (I think she even rewrites some poems), I've heard people say it comes across as tacky and like she knows better than Hugo. Only you can decide how you feel — however, Christine also has footnotes! As I implied earlier, hers are unmarked and a bit chaotic compared to Rose, but I believe there's slightly more of them, which may matter to you. (I've also noticed that they rarely overlap in content with Rose's, in case you do ever go overboard and want multiple translations.) Her cover is also v pretty.

We are very fortunate to have some very cool fans who have already copied over the translations from several passages so that you can compare them firsthand and decide which style makes the most sense for you!

3.4.1 (the introduction of the Amis)

4.12.2 (Preliminary Gayeties)

4.12.6 (Jean Prouvaire's poem at the barricade)

I hope this helps, I am so excited for you to start on this journey!

(Edit: There are also now people in the notes and comments with informed feedback, and I encourage you to take their feedback into consideration as well.)

[thisismyhell]

With you, Safely

Pairing: Hotch x reader (criminal minds) FLUFF :)

Summary: You have a stalker, and it just so happens the BAU is in the right place at the right time. Can Hotch make you feel safe in your stressful state?

Words: 5k

TWs: blaming yourself, a gun is mentioned, making out!!!!!

Being honest about your personal life was never your strong suit. You always had the habit of leaving out sometimes small, and sometimes big, details about your situation. Whether it was because you found it way too personal, or just simply forgot about the idea of telling someone. You knew that theoretically if the people in your life were good, they would be there for you. But, you also knew that you had some people in your life who were not so good, and the lines often blurred in your mind. So when you started getting anonymous threats sent to your workplace, it took you a while to come to terms with the fact that you should tell someone. 

Taking your boss’s advice, you went to the police station. You have never had a reason to engage with a cop before, and if you were honest with yourself, you were not exactly thrilled at the concept. Especially under your circumstances. Not only did you hate the idea of talking about your personal life, but asking for actual help made you nauseous. It made you physically uncomfortable to put yourself out there like that, admitting to being vulnerable and not being able to take care of the situation quietly on your own. You understood that having threats sent to you like this was not a casual situation you could take care of, but you were still mentally trying to get out of this realization. Everything is fine if you just don’t talk about it, right?

“How can I help you today?” the receptionist asked, bringing you back into reality. “Um, sorry - I just..I think I may have a s-stalker? I don’t really know though, it might not even be that serious-”, “okay, what makes you think you have a stalker?” you were thankful she had taken the lead in this conversation. “Well, I-uh, I have been getting threats. Like, sent to my workplace? I don’t know, like, letters and packages from someone I don’t know. It might not be serious, my boss.. My boss just thought I should tell the police?” You were so uncomfortable, and the woman helping you could tell. “Alright well, how about you step into an office over here and we can take you information, and you can tell an officer everything you can. How does that sound?” Her kind eyes were easing your shoulders from their crunched up state. “That would be helpful, yes, t-thank you”. You followed her into an office where an officer wrote down everything you described to them. 

Taking the bus back to your apartment, you felt some tension leave your body. It had been maybe 2-3 months of keeping this to yourself, and you finally had the energy to tell someone. Someone who could maybe actually put you at ease. You probably didn’t have a stalker, let’s be real. That stuff never happens in real life, the concept was so far away from being real to you. Exiting the bus you kept telling yourself everything would be fine, and this would blow over in a week. You walked up the steps to your one bedroom, and found a stack of mail at your doorstep. Picking it up and entering your home, and flipped through. A bill, some junk mail, and some letter with no return address on it. Actually, it just had your info and nothing else, not even a stamp. You put the rest of your mail down and opened the mysterious letter. Your heart sank when you realized what it was. 

“Why did you have to tell them about us? Everything was going so well.”

That’s all it said inside the letter. You dropped it, and called the station asking for the officer you were just speaking to. They told you that you were lucky, because the FBI was in town that week and had just finished up another case. You were told they had some extra time on their hands, and you could come in tomorrow to speak with them. You sighed and agreed, hanging up in relief. This would blow over, everything would be just fine. 

The BAU team was getting ready to head back to their hotel room when Hotch was pulled aside by an officer at the precinct they were working at. “Sir, I’m sorry to ask about this on your way out. But a woman came in earlier about a stalker sending threats to her workplace. We took her story and information, but she just called me back. She got a letter in the mail saying she shouldn’t have told the police. The guy knows where she lives”. 

The team all gathered around the officer. Hotch reached out, “she came in today about this, and he escalated that quickly?”. “Wait, if she was here today, how did we miss her?” Reid probed. The officer shook his head, “the lady was so quiet, she seemed hesitant to even be here in the first place. As soon as she finished her side and said that was all she knew, she was gone. Quietest girl I’ve ever seen”. “She must not have thought it was serious,” commented Morgan. 

“Sure, but a stalker rarely sends threats to the object of his desire without preparing for some kind of meeting. Officer, tell her to come back to the station and we can make a profile”. The officer told him she was already on the way, and she’d be there in less than an hour. 

Feeling shook up, you entered the station for the second time that day. The receptionist recognized you, and walked with you to where the BAU team was working. You felt somewhat shameful that such a big deal was being made over you, but you had to keep reminding yourself that you were not safe in your own home at this time. So you swallowed your pride, and right when you were about to try and get their attention, a tall dark haired gentleman introduced himself. “Good evening, you must be y/n. You can call me Hotch, and this is my team-”, you listed as he told you everyone’s name, thankful for his close proximity to you. Sure it was cheesy, but having a man like Hotch around you made you feel safe. You looked up at him, “thank you all, really - you didn’t have to stay in town just for this”. Hotch cut you off, “Nonsense. We were already here, and having a stalker know where you live on top of where you work is not something to ignore. We will help create a profile for you, you might know who it is without realizing it. You nodded, realizing for the first time in the past 3 months just how tired you were of this. Hotch immediately picked up on your body language, leading you to where a couch was placed in the back of the room.

You sat down next to Reid, the young doctor. He smiled at you almost as awkwardly as you smiled at him. Feeling safe on the couch, you let yourself relax a bit more. The situation you had gotten yourself into was far from ideal, but at least now you weren’t alone in it. However selfish it made you feel, you were happier to be here with the overworked team instead of your lonely apartment. You looked around and it seemed like the entire BAU were trying to profile you. Maybe they were, it was their job of course. You made eye contact with Hotch, who nodded at you, giving you the opportunity to tell your side of things. 

“It started 2 or 3 months ago when I got some letter delivered to me at work. It was weird since like, why would I get mail at work? But I opened it and it was just a description of what I looked like, like in a poem. But I googled it and it’s an original. I couldn’t find it anywhere. So that threw me off but I didn’t take it seriously. I work in retail, I see a million people every shift, you know? I thought it was just some guy who was into me and was weird about it. But then I started getting them more and more often, but just at work. I got sent pictures of myself, presents, and they never had return addresses. And they all had the same handwriting so it was easy to assume it was the same guy. But today...I got a letter to my apartment. To where I live...alone. That’s never happened”. 

The team took in your words, looking like they had definitely seen this kind of thing before. Your gut had the mixed feeling of relief and worry. If they had seen this before they knew what to do, but that meant that they had to do something. Hotch looked at you, “luckily, we should be able to end this before he goes further. Can you tell us anyone in your life, no matter how small, that might want to hurt you, or even someone who holds some animosity towards you?”. You thought about it, and though you had a hunch, you were hoping it wasn’t true. “My..my ex boyfriend. I thought we ended things amicably, but I don’t think he ever got over it. I was hoping it wasn’t him”. The team all nodded, this was probably more common that you thought. 

You stood up, “I’m sorry, I just need some air”. You stepped into the hallway for some quiet, when you heard the office door open and close behind you. You recognized his cologne, Hotch came out and stood in front of you. “I know how uncomfortable this situation must be. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable in the meantime?”. The man had the kindest eyes, even under his stern brows. You wondered if he practiced this expression, the perfect balance between intimidating and soft. You hoped you were that good and being readable, that way you wouldn’t have to open your mouth. Weirdly, the only thing you wanted in that moment was a coffee. Something to keep you warm and give you some much needed energy. Having yourself on display like this all day had been exhausting. You were amazed when Hotch spoke, “there’s a coffee place across the street. The machine in here is broken, thankfully. I’ll take you”. He gently hovered his hand on the small of your back, as if asking permission to guide you out of the building. 

He walked you out, opening doors for you on the way. Walking into the shop with an FBI agent on your arm made you feel safe for the first time in a couple months. You weren’t one to rely on others in any capacity, but in that moment, you let yourself feel relaxed with the man’s presence. It was literally his job to keep you safe, and you’d be lying if that fact didn’t give you butterflies. You were a little too engulfed with taking him in that you didn’t notice he was speaking to you. “Sorry? I’m sorry, I must have zoned out, what were you saying?” you stammered, and he just looked down at you and smiled, repeating his question. “I was asking what you would like to drink? I assume coffee, but I wasn’t sure what your preference was”, he was smiling down at you, and you forgot about every type of coffee that has ever existed. “Oh! Um, a vanilla latte. But you don’t have to get it for me, I can take care of myself-” he cut you off with a single look. “Although I am more than sure you are capable of taking care of yourself, I would like to give you this one thing, if you’d let me”. You swallowed, “I guess- I guess I can let you do this one thing. For me. Thank you, sir”. He ordered your drinks and the two of you stood at the next counter waiting for them. Hotch quietly spoke to you, almost like it was just the two of you in the entire building, “as much as I appreciate the title, please call me Hotch”. You found yourself suppressing a giggle at the feeling of his voice so close to your neck, you were definitely not used to this level of attention. “Okay, Hotch it is”. 

You grabbed your drinks, and he held the door open for you on the way out. He moved his hand from your back where you had gotten so used to it, and he walked right into the road. You watched as he lifted his hand, stopping traffic to let you cross alongside him. What you didn’t see, was Morgan looking out the window at you two, and beckoning the team to come see how Hotch was treating you. “Damn, he must really like coffee today”. Reid joined him at the window, “actually, Hotch always has a next level of confidence after a case ends well. Y/n must be his outlet for a good mood”. Rossi sat at his desk working on a file, “yeah.. Pretty nice outlet if you ask me”. 

The two of you came back into the meeting room, and you couldn’t help the blush you felt when you noticed the team all glance at each other at the site of you two. This kind of attention was okay you thought, as long as he’s the source. Hotch pulled out a chair for you to sit next to him, and the team gathered at the meeting table. 

After some deliberation, and completely downing your coffee, you all came to the conclusion that based on your ex’s habits and personality, it was almost definitely him. So you created a plan to lure him out and catch him in the act. Unfortunately for you however, this meant having to literally face your problem. The team seemed confident enough, but Hotch could feel your body stiffen at the thoughts running through your head. Since meeting you just a couple hours prior, it turned out he could read you like a book. You couldn’t tell yet, but he could. He caught your jaw tighten, and he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, “y/n, you do not have to do this. We can find another way if you cannot bring yourself to go through with this plan”. He was being kind, but you all knew that this was for the best. You softly grinned at him, “thank you, Hotch, but I can do this. I want to face him”. And with that, you all left to get into your various positions. 

The plan was simple. In one of the letters you received, he stated that once you finally realized he was the one meant for you, you would get a table for two at the restaurant you had your first date, and you would prove to him you meant it by waiting for one whole hour, sitting there. Alone, while he supposedly watched you and your body language, and would then arrive. You would be wearing a wire, and once he started threatening you in person and possibly making a scene, the BAU would swoop in and save the day. You were confident in your role, not that you had to do much. You borrowed some date-type clothing from Emily, and you were now heading into the restaurant wearing your wire. You knew that this could all go horribly wrong, but hopefully whatever did happen, brought an end to your unhappiness. 

Taking the 100th deep breath of the day, you told the hostess your party name and they sat you down at your table. Thankfully your waiter was in on what was going on, so they wouldn’t be asking you about food until your ex came and sat down. You felt so exposed, of course your table was in the dead centre of the restaurant. You weren’t aware of the agents stationed around you, Reid pointed out that if you knew too much then the stalker would be able to read your body language too well. So you say there, sucking on the ice cubes from your water knowing what a long night this was going to be. 

“How are you feeling, y/n?” Hotch scared the daylights out of you, causing you to swallow your ice cube by accident. You gasped, but recovered smoothly. You kept your face as straight as you could without openly talking to yourself, “you scared me, I didn’t know you’d be on the other end of this thing”. You heard him softly chuckle, easing the tension. “Well, having you wired would be pretty useless if we couldn’t hear each other”. You smiled to yourself. Obviously he was right, but for some reason you just didn’t clue in that it could be him, out of everyone on the team, to be the one consoling you tonight. Maybe they were in on how he made you feel. Mentally thanking Hotch for his presence, “you’re right, how silly of me. Here I am feeling all alone in here without realizing who has my back”. There was a small pause on the other end before he replied, “you are far from alone in there, y/n”. You didn’t think it was possible given the circumstances, but you felt safe here in that moment too. You swore you could feel his physical presence even through the tiny earpiece. 

Some time passed, and with talking as minimally as you could, you realized an hour was about to pass. Now you had to prepare yourself for the confrontation. You were fine, but emotionally and mentally, you were not thrilled for the exhaustion you knew you’d be feeling in the next few moments. Looking out the windows of the patio, you saw him. Walking oddly through the crowd to the front doors. You knew this was going to be some sort of confrontation, but honestly you didn’t think that far ahead of what you would be saying or doing. Sensing some heating tension between your ex and the hostess, you found yourself frozen to your spot. He was just supposed to come in, say his name and be escorted over, what was going on? The hostess knew what to do, so why was tension rising? “Hotch..” you whispered, trying to get his attention. You heard a very quiet “don’t move”, before seeing your ex flash a gun hidden in his waistband. If you weren’t frozen before, you sure were by now. He hadn’t seen you yet, which was good. Maybe they’ll get to him before he gets to you. Slowly standing up from your seat with no intention to do anything but drop dead, you felt yourself taking a step towards him. You didn’t know why but something inside you told you that this whole thing was a mistake, and whatever was about to happen was your own fault, and you needed to stop it. You could talk to him and calm him down, that’s what your whole relationship was based on anyway. He just needed to be with you, and he would stop the hostility. 

As you were taking your third step in his direction, Hotch stepped in front of you, holding out the side of his jacket to stop your ex from seeing you. You felt his other arm ghost around your waist, his cologne seeping into the dress you borrowed. “Don’t let him see me..” you whispered. “I won’t let him do anything to you, y/n”. You let Hotch take the lead and guide you into the kitchen, out of harm's way. You didn’t realize you were quietly crying until you were standing against the cool tile wall, and Hotch brushed a tear away with his thumb. He went to leave, presumably to help arrest the man who was going to kill you. Before he could take another step, you grabbed his hand more forcefully than you thought you had the strength to. “Please, don’t leave me”. Hotch saw the pleading look in your eyes, and leaned into his phone, “take care of it, Morgan”. You let yourself quietly cry against the wall, facing Hotch. You were so incredibly embarrassed, this was all your fault. You should have realized who your stalker was immediately and squashed this whole problem by yourself. The fact that someone was being arrested right now because of you, made you sick. Sure, it was in order to keep you safe, but you still felt like a burden. The FBI shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t have happened. 

Hotch couldn’t bring himself to just stand there and watch you fall apart, so he put his arms around you, gently squeezing you enough to make you feel present. You let yourself get your tears on his uniform, it was just something else to apologize for later. You almost collapsed, having all this mental weight pulling you down to the ground. Before you could fall, Hotch steadied you, pressing you against the wall in his hug to get you more grounded. The feeling of the cold tile against the back of your neck helped center you. Hotch let you go slowly, testing to see if you would stay standing without him. It tore him up inside seeing cases like these, and yours was no different. Now letting you stand on your own, the two of you held eye contact. “Y/n, you are safe. You never have to see him again. He cannot hurt you. He can’t hurt you anymore”. It was like he was saying it to the both of you as a mantra, getting you to feel okay and safe, and to bring him back to reality. He wanted to keep you safe, to open every door for you and stop traffic for you. Bring you coffee whenever you asked and even when you didn’t. He wanted you to understand how important you were, and how this was not your fault. He knew you blamed yourself, he could see it in your face and in your tears. 

You weren’t crying anymore, but you were exhausted. You wanted Hotch to just pick you up and take you home, take you anywhere but here. There was something in his demeanor that made you feel like a flower next to him. This big FBI agent, holding you up against the wall making sure you don’t fall over. You were almost killed tonight and all you could think about was just how strong Hotch was. Not to mention how good he smelled. He moved his grip from around your shoulders, down to around your waist. He pulled you into another deep embrace, this one feeling more personal. You had your arms around him but under his jacket, letting it fall around the two of you. You pulled away at the same time, and you muttered a small “thank you”. 

He towered over you, and he still had a concerned look in his eyes. You could tell he wanted to say something, so you nodded to try and get it out of him. “We both know you are safe now. That man is going back to the police station to be processed as the criminal he is..” he stopped, but you knew he wasn’t finished. You let him breath before continuing, “y/n, you live alone and today your life was threatened. You deserve to sleep somewhere tonight where you do not have to worry about a single thing”. He was right. You wanted to stay awake all night, knowing the moment you’d step back into your apartment you’d feel like you were in a cage. Your parents lived just outside the city, maybe you could have a police escort. But it was so late, and you hated the idea of waking up your parents just to baby you tonight. You knew exactly where you wanted to be, but how can you ask an FBI agent to extend his duties into watching over you through the night? All these thoughts raced through your mind in the second it took Hotch to open his mouth again, “I have an idea but the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured into saying yes, or scaring you off”. Now you were interested, the evening seemed to be playing out in your favour afterall. He continued, “y/n, the team and I are staying at the hotel downtown. I would be more than happy to pull some strings, and say we need an extra room for the night. We leave in the morning, but you’d be on a floor filled with FBI agents”. You accepted the offer maybe a little quickly, but thankfully he wasn’t put off with your enthusiasm. You leaned in again and held his suit collar, “thank you, Hotch. All I want is to feel safe tonight”. Looking up at him, a million thoughts crossed your mind all at once. You wanted to hire this man as your personal bodyguard. With the look you saw in his eye, he might even say yes. The next few moments were only seconds apart, but they felt like an eternity. Hotch placed his hands around your jaw, tilting your head up towards him. He looked at you with ocean’s in his eyes and whispered again like you were the only two in the entire building, “I can keep you safe, y/n”, before leaning in and giving you a kiss so grounding you swore he had you in the palm of his hand. 

“Guys, we’re good let’s head back - “ Morgan cut himself off when he saw Hotch removing his hands from you. Hotch cleared his throat, “y/n will be staying at the hotel with us tonight. I don’t think it would be wise for her to go back home alone”. You were hoping Morgan couldn’t see you holding on to Hotch’s forearm like your life depended on it. He got the idea, and the 3 of you left in the SUV back downtown. 

Once you entered the lobby, the team went up to their rooms as Hotch took you to the front desk. He enquired about getting an extra room just for you, and the manager handed you your key for the night. Slowly making your way up to the shared floor, you started to digest all the events that happened during your day. You almost got lost in your own brain, but Hotch pulled you back out when he placed his hand on the small of your back with confidence, leading you out into the hallway. You found your room, just a couple door’s down from where Hotch said he was. You were excited to be staying in a fancy hotel, even for just one night. As much as you wanted Hotch to come in with you, you knew he was technically still at work. But once again as if he could read your mind, Hotch was the one to open your door and see you inside safely. You took in your room. It was gorgeous with a king bed and a view for days. Putting your things down on the bed, you looked to Hotch, who seemed to be fidgeting slightly. He had been so confident in front of you all day, what was making him act like that?

“Is there anything else you need? I’d be happy to get anything-”, “thank you Hotch, really. But I have everything that I need right here in this room”. You gave him another soft smile, and you went to see him out. Your door was still closed, and Hotch was reaching to open it. He turned back around to you without realizing how close you were standing behind him. “If you change your mind, I’m just a couple doors down. I don’t sleep much, so it won’t be hard to get me”. You thought to yourself and spoke, “actually, I don’t sleep much either. I’ve had insomnia since I was a child”. 

“Really?” he asked you, returning a smirk. “Really”, you offered. You moved around him and leaned against the door, wanting to continue the conversation. Hotch took another guess at what you wanted, and he slowly pressed himself against your small frame, holding you in place. You let out a small sigh, showing him you didn’t mind at all. He took your waist in his hands for the second time that evening, and placed his lips against yours. He kissed you so softly and so gently, you thought you were going to float away. And his grip on you said he felt the same way. Digging his fingers harder into your waist asking permission to deepen the kiss, you granted him access. You opened your mouth to heat the moment, and Hotch was thrilled. He was pressing you into the door like he was afraid you’d otherwise fall through the floor. You were on your tiptoes kissing him and he wouldn’t let you feel any of your weight. You were completely pinned, and you loved it. You felt so secure between him and the door, knowing you were not going anywhere without him guiding you there first. He was protecting you with everything he could, never allowing you to go more than a split second without having his mouth on you. 

If the two of you couldn’t sleep, you wouldn’t mind being pinned all night long. Hotch was huge, towering over you from the moment you met. But he had the softest eyes you’d ever seen. He was kissing you like it was keeping you alive, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. You were gripping his shirt in your fists, seeing what he would allow you to do under his restrictions. He let you run your hands all over him, encouraging him to do the same to you. The two of you broke away at the same time for air. He looked down at you like you could break if he said the wrong thing. “If this is helping at all, I can stay longer if you need me-” you answered the lame question with a sloppy kiss on his neck, “Hotch, please stay with me”. With that, he gathered you in his arms and brought you to the bed.

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should i do a part 2??