they would be better in squares

2

“I couldn’t ask for a better group of friends to have in this room tonight, thank you so much for being here, all of you.” At his first ever solo show last night, Harry Styles spoke to the audience as if they were the organisers of his surprise birthday party rather than a crowd of strangers. But the intimacy felt appropriate: the former One Direction member is more familiar with Wembley Stadium and Madison Square Gardens than a tiny, sweaty room on the corner of Highbury and Islington roundabout.

On his Twitter feed, Styles announced at 8am on Saturday morning that a surprise gig would be taking place that evening at The Garage in London, ahead of his larger tour later this year to promote his debut solo album (the self-titled Harry Styles). Tickets were only available, for £10, if bought from the box office in person, and even then you could only buy one. All proceeds were to go to The Little Princess Trust, the charity that the singer donated his hair to last year, which provides wigs to children experiencing hair loss. Dedicated fans jumped out of bed seconds later to buy tickets, some still in their pyjamas.

The atmosphere inside was giddy as a result, ticket-holders delirious with luck. Styles, dressed in a frankly outrageous pink satin Gucci suit with embroidered dragons snaking up his thighs, seemed genuinely excited to be there too, telling the crowd he was “overwhelmed” by their support. “This is my first show in a long time. My first show ever. So it’s a night I won’t forget,” he said, adding “You might not be able to tell from my monotone voice, but I am having a great time.”

His years of experience in one of the music industry’s most polished pop bands are clear to see: for what was essentially a warm-up show, this was a sleek performance. Delivering his new album in its entirety, Styles was most impressive when letting loose on rockier, more upbeat tracks Only Angel and Kiwi (the latter saw women at the front form a mosh pit), or exuding Seventies sex appeal on Woman and Carolina.

Unlike at the rehearsal he held last week, he did not stage dive. “Let me tell you,” he explained of the much-reported calamitous attempt (which saw him knock a fan to the floor). “It doesn’t feel one third as cool as you think it does.”

As well as his solo material, Styles performed two other songs: an experimental riff on Kanye West’s “Ultralight Beam” and a much-loved One Direction track he has a writing credit on, “Stockholm Syndrome”. “You may or may not know the words,” Styles deadpanned, as the crowd screamed at the opening notes.

One of the loudest cheers of the entire event went not to the main man, but his drummer Sarah Jones, who has delighted Styles’s mostly female fanbase with her performances over the past few weeks. “Alright, that’s enough,” the star joked after introducing her. “That’s why she’s at the back.”

It’s a joy to watch Styles interact with a smaller crowd. He has a knowing, teasing relationship with fans, at one point asking the audience, “How you doing down there? You look very warm. There’s a smell…” But, this ribbing aside, his desire that everyone present have the best possible time was obvious, as he paused the show to check on a fan struggling with the heat, and sung Happy Birthday to another the front. It’s this combination of charm, ease, flamboyance, and an actually very good singing voice that sets Styles apart from his former bandmates and many of his peers. Could this be the rock star British pop music needs? - The Telegraph

5

Finally done ! Took me 3 days ! Yeahhhh !!

In case anyone confused, the one is square bubble is MC’s inner thoughts.
And here she is afraid to move on to Seven’s route after she did Jumin’s because she knew what would happen to V and Jumin after Seven’s route. Also because I think in Jumin’s route is a better true ending– idk maybe I am just bias aaa but poor my bbu seven but butttt //falls into despair

Unable to take the risk, she just keep on living like that, leaving the game incomplete. The hearts on their heads represent the amount of lives they had left. And we all know what happen to V in the end.

I’ll leave the rest of the headcanon to you guys, www
Sorry I will be busy with ACG cons and event this weekend so I might not be able to update much QAQ Sorry my English is not that good so– sorry for any grammar mistakes– aaa 

Hope you guys still bear with me aaaa

After the Parade

“Hush,” he says.

Above them, Cabal ships drag thick black smoke across the flickering twilight, and flames rise from the Tower. Legionnaires scour the streets, seeking out the cries of the wounded and afraid.

“Hush,” he says again, as the child starts to sniffle, and he pulls her into the shadows cast by an apartment block as a patrol makes its laborious way past. He was made to protect, made to serve, but he feels clumsy now; the hand on her shoulder is almost larger than her head and she has no armor to protect her bruised and burned skin from his rough gauntlets. When he tries to wipe the tears from her face he worries that he will be the one to break her.

He followed her screams, just as the Cabal did. He had no rifle to kill the Legionnaires that would have silenced her; dispatched the first one with his boot-knife but was not quick enough to catch the second unaware. It is dead, but his chest-plate is cracked and burned and the thing that eats the Traveler has also eaten his Light.

She is wearing yellow. A summer dress, for a celebration. When he offered her his gore-spattered hand she took it at once, and did not look back at the splayed and broken limbs visible beneath the rubble around her as though she knew there was no one left to wait for. He brushed dust and chips of concrete from the tight black curls on her head, and when she tried to smile her gap-toothed smile at him despite it all he knew that he would die the second death to save her.

They pick their way through dust-covered streets and alleys, one grimy hand holding his armored fingers, the other wrapped around the silent shell of his Ghost. He told her to keep it safe, and she clutches it to her chest with an intensity that would do any Titan proud.

To those behind the Wall, love and service. To those outside it, fury and fire. He is young: the Order’s maxim has never meant much to him, but here at the end of an Age he feels each word burning in his chest and he wraps his Mark around her shoulders like a cloak, like a little Hunter, to keep the nearness of the night from her as best he can.

When they hear the distant bursts of gunfire he waits until the chatter fades, then leads them in a different direction even though it gives him hope to know the City is still fighting. Perhaps if he ran to the violence he would find weapons or more Guardians, but he will not risk it. And so hours pass as they slink across the city, and as slowly as his wounds force him to move she still takes ten strides for every one of his. She has only one sandal, silver leather wrapped around a tiny leg, but he thinks that a single piece of armor is better than no armor at all.

He finds a battered pulse rifle in a street that leads to a square, tries not to wonder where its owner went. The magazine is full, but it is all he has and there is no Ghost at his shoulder to synthesize ammo. He bends to pick it up, never letting go of the hand that holds his own, just as a troop of Legionnaires turn the corner in front of them.

He pulls the child behind a crumbled wall. Waits one heartbeat, two; no slug throwers roar in response. Even so, they are between him and the direction he has lead, and he doubts he has the strength to cross the City again.

Love and service to those within. Fire and fury to those without.

The Legionnaires do not notice, but neither do they move on. More join them, and they begin to spiral out in all directions, continuing their search. It will not be long before they find him and the child. A narrow street, once hung with banners but now collapsing from the rooftops down, will lead her west, to the walls, away from Cabal patrols - as long as there is a distraction.

He lifts her chin as gently as he can.

“You have to run,” he whispers. He is bad at whispering. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“That way,” he says when she stares at him in silence, pointing with his outsized hand down the shadowed street.

He gives her a delicate push, points again. She blinks, once, then toddles into the dark, Ghost held close as though it will protect her. Perhaps, if there is a way to undo this disaster, it someday will.

He props the rifle atop the ledge, lifts his visor and sights with naked eye. There are so many, he thinks, and then bites back a laugh - there are only eight.

Love within. Fury without.

The rifle barks. One Legionnaire dies and the others spin in confusion, firing in the direction of his cover. He ignores them, squeezes the trigger again. And again. And again.

Love within. Fury without. Love within. Fury without. Love within. Fury without. Love within -

Something tugs his arm. He looks down into the eyes of the little girl, and pure terror finds him.

“I said run,” he growls, but she does not, her face set in a scowl. He shakes his arm and she does not let go.

A micro-rocket bursts against the barricade and he ducks, throws his body over her, sprays the rest of his bullets in response. The child buries her head in his cracked armor, her frail body shaking.

Never has he been so afraid to die.

He feels a fool. He tosses the rifle down, wraps one arm around the child and pulls her close. With the other he slams his visor shut. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and when at last there is a break in the constant fire he lurches to his feet, lifts the child to his chest, and runs.

It is hard, so hard, to move full Titan-plate without his Light to drive it. His body aches. Something inside is probably broken, and he does not know how long it takes a body to heal without a Ghost.

A slug hits him in the back and he stumbles but his armor holds, and he sprints down the street where he tried to send the child, the sound of jump-packs following behind. He ducks his head and cups himself around his charge, makes himself as big as he can, plows across the debris-choked pavement. The girl begins to cry again, though to his ears it is not the sound of fear but of fury, and before long he is roaring with it, and the two of them roar together down the long, narrow street as explosions scatter bits of ruins that once were homes. He does not know where he is going, knows only that he must go somewhere, that he will not stop until the child is safe or his legs no longer work; that when he has nothing left he will throw her from him and tear the Cabal apart with fists alone, Light or no.

He has stopped counting the impacts. Every step is a knife in his chest. The Legionnaires must be close but he does not turn, lest the shield that is his body fail. He can feel himself slowing, a sensation that fills him both with wonder and despair, but he cannot force himself to let her go despite his promise. Something cracks against the back of his leg, and he is too tired and too hurt to correct. He lands heavily on one shoulder, slides ten grinding yards, arms still wrapped around the child. At the very least, they will have to rip him apart to get to her. Maybe, if he dies quickly, they will not notice her at all.

Gunfire interrupts his thoughts, along with the sound of footsteps and the roar of Cabal. Hands grab him, drag him out of the street, but still he does not uncurl. He sees Hunter cloaks, Warlock robes, a Titan mark.

“Hush,” he tells the child, head still tucked close, while they cower in a doorway and around them Guardians fight.

“Hush,” he tells her, over their surprised cries of pain.

“Hush,” he tells her, over and over, until at last all is silent and he dares to lift his head and stand.

He helps the child to her feet, and though he leans against the doorway it is her tiny hand in his that keeps him upright. He looks around at their saviors: most are near as bruised as he is. They nod their heads, pat him on the back, and he opens his mouth to ask for forgiveness, for leading the Legionnaires here, but a Hunter shakes her head as though she knows what he will say.

Two Guardians lie dead. Truly dead. One Hunter, one Titan wearing the Mark of the Gatewatch. He waits the half-second for their Ghosts to revive them, feels sick when they do not rise. He swears that he will learn their names and add them to the Order of the Pilgrim Guard.

Someone makes cooing sounds and tries to take the child, tries to give her water, but she refuses to let go of his hand, refuses to surrender his Ghost. For a moment they stand there, all seven of them in a circle around her, and it is as though a different light has risen to bond them all.

They need ships. Weapons. Food, maybe. The child, at least, must eat. The Hunter offers water again, and he wonders how many new scraps of fabric she has taken for her cloak. A different Titan, this one wearing the Mark of the Six Fronts, hands him the dead Hunter’s rifle - then looks down at the child, still clinging to his hand, and passes him a sidearm instead.

They turn their backs to the Tower, and continue their slow march to the western wall. Perhaps they will find supplies along the way. If not, so be it - they are still Guardians, and they will save what light they can.

Love within. Fury without.

The Cabal have no word for ‘retreat.’ Soon, they will learn that the Guardians have none for ‘mercy.’


Words: @themothyards

Art: @artdailybykitty

JUST IN: Pres. Obama releases statement on new Senate health care bill:

“Our politics are divided. They have been for a long time. And while I know that division makes it difficult to listen to Americans with whom we disagree, that’s what we need to do today.

I recognize that repealing and replacing the Affordable Care Act has become a core tenet of the Republican Party. Still, I hope that our Senators, many of whom I know well, step back and measure what’s really at stake, and consider that the rationale for action, on health care or any other issue, must be something more than simply undoing something that Democrats did.

We didn’t fight for the Affordable Care Act for more than a year in the public square for any personal or political gain – we fought for it because we knew it would save lives, prevent financial misery, and ultimately set this country we love on a better, healthier course.

Nor did we fight for it alone. Thousands upon thousands of Americans, including Republicans, threw themselves into that collective effort, not for political reasons, but for intensely personal ones – a sick child, a parent lost to cancer, the memory of medical bills that threatened to derail their dreams.

And you made a difference. For the first time, more than ninety percent of Americans know the security of health insurance. Health care costs, while still rising, have been rising at the slowest pace in fifty years. Women can’t be charged more for their insurance, young adults can stay on their parents’ plan until they turn 26, contraceptive care and preventive care are now free. Paying more, or being denied insurance altogether due to a preexisting condition – we made that a thing of the past.

We did these things together. So many of you made that change possible.

At the same time, I was careful to say again and again that while the Affordable Care Act represented a significant step forward for America, it was not perfect, nor could it be the end of our efforts – and that if Republicans could put together a plan that is demonstrably better than the improvements we made to our health care system, that covers as many people at less cost, I would gladly and publicly support it.

That remains true. So I still hope that there are enough Republicans in Congress who remember that public service is not about sport or notching a political win, that there’s a reason we all chose to serve in the first place, and that hopefully, it’s to make people’s lives better, not worse.

But right now, after eight years, the legislation rushed through the House and the Senate without public hearings or debate would do the opposite. It would raise costs, reduce coverage, roll back protections, and ruin Medicaid as we know it. That’s not my opinion, but rather the conclusion of all objective analyses, from the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office, which found that 23 million Americans would lose insurance, to America’s doctors, nurses, and hospitals on the front lines of our health care system.

The Senate bill, unveiled today, is not a health care bill. It’s a massive transfer of wealth from middle-class and poor families to the richest people in America. It hands enormous tax cuts to the rich and to the drug and insurance industries, paid for by cutting health care for everybody else. Those with private insurance will experience higher premiums and higher deductibles, with lower tax credits to help working families cover the costs, even as their plans might no longer cover pregnancy, mental health care, or expensive prescriptions. Discrimination based on pre-existing conditions could become the norm again. Millions of families will lose coverage entirely.

Simply put, if there’s a chance you might get sick, get old, or start a family – this bill will do you harm. And small tweaks over the course of the next couple weeks, under the guise of making these bills easier to stomach, cannot change the fundamental meanness at the core of this legislation.

I hope our Senators ask themselves – what will happen to the Americans grappling with opioid addiction who suddenly lose their coverage? What will happen to pregnant mothers, children with disabilities, poor adults and seniors who need long-term care once they can no longer count on Medicaid? What will happen if you have a medical emergency when insurance companies are once again allowed to exclude the benefits you need, send you unlimited bills, or set unaffordable deductibles? What impossible choices will working parents be forced to make if their child’s cancer treatment costs them more than their life savings?

To put the American people through that pain – while giving billionaires and corporations a massive tax cut in return – that’s tough to fathom. But it’s what’s at stake right now. So it remains my fervent hope that we step back and try to deliver on what the American people need.

That might take some time and compromise between Democrats and Republicans. But I believe that’s what people want to see. I believe it would demonstrate the kind of leadership that appeals to Americans across party lines. And I believe that it’s possible – if you are willing to make a difference again. If you’re willing to call your members of Congress. If you are willing to visit their offices. If you are willing to speak out, let them and the country know, in very real terms, what this means for you and your family.

After all, this debate has always been about something bigger than politics. It’s about the character of our country – who we are, and who we aspire to be. And that’s always worth fighting for.”

Top 9 Most Fight-Able Characters in Mystic Messenger

(ranked by the likelihood of winning from least to most likely)

9. “Mary” Vanderwood, Secret Agent Murdermonster

Result: A swift and painful death

Are you shitting me? You’ll be goddamn eviscerated on the spot. Not to mention nobody will ever find your body. This is completely fucking unadvisable. DO NOT DO THIS unless you have a DEATH WISH and want to disappear from the world completely. Vanderwood is not to be messed with. They’ve killed many a worthy foe, and you will not be one of them. There’s not much else to say here. I don’t care who you are, you should not challenge Vanderwood. Say your prayers, fucker

8. Unknown/Saeran Choi, Total Edgelord

Result: Utter defeat, probably followed by torture + imprisonment

I don’t think you need me to tell you that this kid is fucking off his rocker. Let’s be real, he’s probably killed a few people, and he enjoyed every minute of it. You can bet your ass he’ll likely torture you after defeating you, too. And you know, some of you sick fucks will probably enjoy the whole damn ordeal. You’re probably the only ones who’d WANT to fight him just to have him fucking step on you. Well congratu-fucking-lations, you got what you wanted. He still beats your ass. The only reason Vanderwood beats him in this ranking is because it’s possible he’d keep you alive for fun, and some of you would enjoy that, so at least it’s a fuckin victory for somebody. Fuck.

7. Jaehee Kang, Smarter than the CEO

Result: Total annihilation + jail time

Do you see this face? This is the face of someone who has been repressing violent urges for fucking years for the sake of keeping her job. If she could snap Jumin’s neck, she would in a heartbeat. You do not want to give her a justifiable reason to unleash that utter fucking rage on your sorry ass. Did you forget she has a black belt in judo? She could beat my ass. She could beat your ass. She could beat anyone’s ass. I don’t care WHO you think you are. And after the fight? She’ll report you to the proper authorities, pick up a cup of coffee, and finish her daily tasks like nothing fucking happened. What a wild bitch. I fucking love her to death, tbh. And you know what? How dare you challenge her. She deals with enough shit in her life. I hope she beats your ass with a righteous fucking fury. Have fun in jail, dipshit.

6. God 707, Meme Lord Supreme

Result: Depends on your approach, but probably a failure

Honestly Seven’s about as fucking predictable as a lunch box full of wasps. What am I even supposed to say here? He’d probably imitate that shitty ass vine meme the first time you punch him and say “I can’t believe you’ve done this”, complete with a British accent, but when you keep hitting, it’ll confuse him. The element of surprise is probably your best bet, but you also have no fucking clue what he’ll do. He might beat the shit out of you. He might scamper away on his scrawny ass legs and proceed to hack into everything you once loved or held dear. He might lay down on the ground and let you kick the shit out of him. In the end, it depends on his mood. Is that reliable at all? Absolutely fucking not. So go for it, but I literally have no idea how it’s gonna turn out for you.

5. Zen/Hyun Ryu, A God Among Men

Result: You have a good chance of winning, but at what cost?

OK BEFORE YOU LOSE YOUR MIND LISTEN THE FUCK UP. Why is Zen higher up on the list, Nani??? you ask me, pouting, clutching your Zen body pillow(s) in agony. Zen had a bad past!! He’s not easy to fight, he was such a bad boy!! v//w//v He’s so tough and strong and he’s our knight in shining armor! Hey!! Good for you! But GUESS FUCKING WHAT!! If you’re female, he’ll probably forfeit to you immediately, unlike the barbarians before him on this list, so technically he’s easier to fight! He’d probably LET you beat the shit out of him if it made you feel better. It’s not even a fucking question of who would win if a woman challenged him, so we’re gonna move on.
Now, if you’re a GUY, he’d be more willing to square up, and my advice is go for his face. Pretty boy doesn’t like messing up his pretty mug, and if you play dirty, he’ll get scared real quick. His ponytail is a disadvantage for him, so yank it real hard. You have a better chance of beating him with perseverance, but if you let him get the upper hand, you’re deceased because he’s probably a heavy hitter. Also, you will incur the wrath of all his fangirls, and probably the angels above, and you will spend the rest of your life MISERABLE AND CURSED, so proceed with caution. If you can get away with it without anyone knowing your identity, you’re golden. Good luck, but also, why? do you even want to??

4. Jumin Han, Mistah Trussfund Kid (The CEO)

Result: Instant win, but your life will be RUINED

Honestly, I think certain RFA members would actually be very glad if someone handed Jumin’s ass to him, but good fucking luck accomplishing that without having your entire life destroyed. On a purely physical level, Jumin is no competition. He may be the tallest motherfucker around, but he’s never fought anyone before in his LIFE. You’d probably only have an issue here if you were short as shit, and even then, go for the knees, amirite? He’ll fall like a fucking oak tree, and then you can rip him a new one while he’s down. Easy peasy, right? WRONG. He’s got a horde of like 50 bodyguards that you have to sneak past or defeat first or something. And if you somehow make it to Jumin first, they’ll swarm your ass after you first start swinging and have you incapacitated in a few seconds. Are those first few swings worth it? Maybe. But he’s gonna sue your ass for everything you own. The whole world will know your name. If you don’t get jail time, you’ll wish you had. It will be an easier life than trying to live in the public. Zen and Jaehee might love you forever, though, so maybe they can pull a few favors for ya. You better pray they do. Good fuckin luck out there, champ.

3. Yoosung Kim, Small Child

Result: Victory, but with a catch

Look into this child’s eyes. Look me in the eyes. Tell me that Yoosung isn’t a fucking pansy. You can’t, can you? It’s because Yoosung is a fucking pansy. This kid would be down for the count after exactly one (1) punch. He might enjoy it a little too, which’ll be awkward as shit for both of you. HOWEVER. If you trigger his Yandere side, which is bullshit but whatever, he might put up more of a fight. How do you do this, you may ask? Insult Rika. or MC. (Probably Rika tho). Something inside him will snap, and then he’ll be trickier to handle. He’ll probably play dirty when he’s like this, so expect to get shanked or bitten or something. It doesn’t change the fact that his scrawny ass can’t fight for shit, so you’ll still probably win, but not without a few injuries yourself. Hurting Yoosung is probably the moral equivalent to kicking a puppy. If you can be ok with yourself after that, then I mean, go for it.

2. Rika, the Antichrist

Result: Certain victory, but extremely dangerous

Look, maybe I should’ve put her lower on the list considering she’s got an entire cult following her every order. But, honest to God, you would be morally obligated to fight her. Please beat the shit out of her. Physically, her scrawny ass could do nothing to stop you. She’s ruined the lives of her friends, as well as countless other people, because of her deranged and, quite frankly, selfish desires. Basically, she’s a little bitch. I don’t know how you’ll do it, but god damn, you’ll be everyone’s hero. The downside to this is that she might sick Saeran on you, which is gonna be a pain in your ass, and Yoosung might hate you forever, but I think you can live with that, right? Do us all a favor. Fight Rika.

1. Jihyun Kim/V, aka Flower Angel Sunshine Man

Result: Total Victory, but you’re basically Satan

BEFORE YOU SEND ME ANON HATE, REMEMBER: this is a list based on how likely you are to win. And V? V would let anyone beat him. He probably thinks he deserves it. He might defend himself a little, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you. Your victory would be almost immediate. There is no catch to V. You’d just win. But you’re a fucking monster for it. And you know what? I’ll beat the shit out of you if you hurt this man. So don’t even think about it, asshole.

Good Lord that pompadour!  That’s all, it just deserves its own post.

Originally posted by funnybunnyshit

i saw a similar post about writing tips when it comes to having paris as a setting, so i thought it would be helpful to have the same thing except for……new york city! as a native new yorker i love seeing my home appearing in fics, because lbr nyc is pretty awesome. so if you’re looking to make nyc your setting, here are some tips when writing about it. these can help establish if your character is a native or non-native.

—first off, nyc is technically not one city. it’s five cities. the boroughs of manhattan, queens, staten island, bronx, and brooklyn are all part of nyc. however, the nyc that’s always on tv/movies is manhattan.

—if you live in any of the four other boroughs, manhattan is always referred to as “the city”. so if your character lives in brooklyn but is heading out to central park, they’re going to the city.

—public transportation is the way to go. unless it’s staten island, where cars are the easiest way to go. mta fare is $2.75 and we use metrocards. trains are divided by uptown and downtown, and some are express and some are local. we do not refer to the train lines by their color—only by their number or letter. buses are designated by their borough; a manhattan bus would have M in front of the number.

—taxis are mad expensive and sometimes public transportation can be too when you need to take a combo of buses and trains. many new yorkers walk a lot. the reason we walk fast is bc it makes it easier to get to your destination. walking up ten blocks can only take ten minutes if you speedwalk basically. which is why slow walkers annoy us, especially when they stop suddenly.

—trains run slower during weekends and nights so your character might be in for quite a wait. bus generally take 10 minutes to come, unless it’s a popular route. then buses come every five minutes.

—except for the very southern part of manhattan, the roads are numbered. so areas such as greenwich village, wall street, little italy, and chinatown do not have streets with numbers. streets run from east to west; avenues run from south to north. the east & west streets are separated by 5th Avenue. numbers increase as you move north and/or to the west.

—you can always find pizza and hot dogs for a dollar. busy areas such as times square and central park will try to overcharge you. no new yorker would be gullible enough to pay $2 for a pizza slice. for cheap $1 pizza, the chain 2Bros is good. speaking of pizza, we fold it in half bc it is easier to eat and walk then.

—a distinctly new yorker thing is saying “on the line”. such as asking someone “are you on the line?” no other state says this. drive into new jersey and they’ll say “in the line”.

—there is one international airport and one domestic airport for nyc, which are both in queens. there’s JFK (international) and La Guardia (domestic). a third option is newark airport (also international) in new jersey.

—smoking is not allowed in nyc parks nor in most public spaces whatsoever. also the legal age for smoking and drinking is 21.

—if your character is a college student, all public colleges are branded as CUNY (City University of New York). every borough has at least one CUNY college. public colleges have “cheap” tuition rates, which are usually around $5000-$8000. the “famous” colleges in NYC are not public. NYU and Columbia are both private and are ridiculously expensive. Wagner College (private) in Staten Island has a really good performing arts/music program.

—new yorkers avoid many of the sightseeing places bc they’re expensive and overcrowded. i have lived my whole life in nyc (almost 20 years) and have only visited the Empire State Building for the first time this summer—and that’s only bc my internship covers the expense of my tickets to such places.

—speaking of expenses, most of the homes in the boroughs are apartments. Staten Island however is suburban and residential. houses are abundant there. in manhattan, houses which are really just townhouses, are super expensive. we’re talking millions here.

—manhattan is an island. so is staten island. the only ways off manhattan are by cars/buses over bridges or tunnels, or by trains. the only way off staten island is by car, bus, or the Staten Island Ferry. the ferry is free of charge, running 24/7 between SI and Manhattan. all bridges have tolls, where ezpass holders have lower rates.

—yes we’re the city that never sleeps, but we do sleep. some areas like times square don’t appear to. i’ve shopped at the forever 21 in times square at 1 AM. it was still crowded.

—SI has a predominant Italian and Sri Lankan community. Queens has a predominant Indian community, most especially in the Jackson Heights neighborhood.

—coney island is in brooklyn. the rides are fun but expensive. the beach is crowded and dirty. brighton beach and rockaway beach are better choices. staten island has a more calmer (and actually fourth longest in the usa) boardwalk.

—if you’re mailing something to manhattan, the address should be written as new york, new york. it would not be manhattan, new york.

this got really long but if your heart is set on writing within new york, i think it’s really important to get your setting right. like i said before, these tips can really help your character stand out or not as someone who is or isn’t from new york. i hope this helps for all the fabulous writers out there!

Every aspect has two ways of interpreting it, which I would roughly group as underdeveloped and developed

Conjunctions: In inability to separate the two things / A blend and mix of them
Trines: A lazy attitude or lack of care to better this area / A harmonious, peaceful connection
Squares: Chaotic, restless link / A fixed link to add sturdiness
Oppositions: A polar opposite and lack of understanding / The middle way, and fusing of opposite ideas
Sextiles: Washing over this area as it is ‘okay’ / These two areas in discussion and understanding

As soon as I stepped outside of that rally I exhaled. I couldn’t believe what I had just saw in the heart of Portland. I was shocked by the high fives I had seen between police and white supremacists. I know that the alt-right and police have tremendous respect for one another but I thought they would maybe attempt to conceal it for at least this event. At one point, I even saw them playing a game of football with the cops. As a ‘proud boy’ threw the football at one of the officers I thought about what would happen if I threw a ball at police and how many people would get hurt in the resulting violence.

Still trying to get the taste of hate speech out of my mouth I walked back into Chapman Square where I thought I was finally safe from white supremacy. I should have known better. Turns out I left right before the hate rally was about to conclude. The snowflakes that they are, they didn’t want to be yelled at on their way back to wherever they came from (i.e. not Portland). So, police decided to start pushing people into the middle of Chapman Square. I heard them all yell, “move to the middle of the park”. Then the police line that had been facing the good guys all day slowly started marching forward with their batons out. I was face to face with an officer, he was black too. I thought maybe I could get some humanity out of him. I looked at him and said I couldn’t move any faster because there were people behind me. He told me to turn around and keep walking. So, I turned around and instantly felt the baton in my back. But there was no way to go forward because the park was full. A few seconds of being jabbed in the back continued before I heard the first flash bang. Then all hell broke loose.

BTS Reaction to You SC’ing Them in Their Shirt While They’re at Work

Request:  Hi! Could I please get a bts reaction to you Snapchating them at work wearing only their shirt?? ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

Namjoon

Unable to hide his growing smirk as soon as he opened your message, he responded back with a photo of him biting his lip, captioned: “So you’re being naughty today huh? You better still be wearing just that by the time I get home.

Yoongi

Once he tapped the square by your snapchat name, his eyebrows raised in surprise before a grin spread throughout his face. He excused himself from the other boys and headed straight to the bathroom, proceeding to show you just how badly your picture effected him.

I think I’d like it if you wore just my shirts more often.”

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Give me a nice, Wholesome AU™ where Vlad ~somehow~ stops being a super-creep and agrees to mentor Danny– not because he wants to marry his mom and make him his son, but because he genuinely just wants to help another halfa out since HE didn’t have help way back when.

(Also for angst you could throw in a bit of “plus I feel responsible, because without the research we did in college, your parents would never have made their portal in the first place” or “I feel responsible because I kiiiinda pissed off a bunch of ghosts and all they know is ‘the halfa did it’ so that maaaybe why you’ve been seeing more ghost activity, idk lol.”)

Anyways give me an AU where we’ve got Vlad and Danny training in the basement at 1 am and Vlad’s trying to incorporate Danny’s school curriculum into the training because GOD KNOWS when he’d actually find time for THAT.

“Wait, can I try again? Just one more! One more run through…” Danny says, looking at Vlad with scorch marks on his face that have already begun to heal.

“Daniel, we’ve been at this for hours,” Vlad says, running a hand through his messy, singed hair. “I think that’s as good as it’s going to get tonight.”

“No!” says Danny, but quickly checks his volume, “No. Please, I… but I worked so hard on this power…if I could just–”

“And I know you did.” Vlad says, walking over to him, “I’m proud of how far you’ve come Daniel, but even halfas get exhausted.” He places his hands on Danny’s shoulders and the boy seems to consider this for a moment. But in the end…

“Just one more.”

Vlad sighs.

“You’re gonna be on all those business trips, we won’t meet up again for a month!”

“Fine.” Vlad relents, “Just one more drill. But after that you’ll need your rest.”

Vlad starts up the machines again as Danny gets into a ready position.

“Remember to breathe.” says Vlad as the starting lights blink down in sequence. He uses his own power to bring up a noise-reducing barrier around the training area.

-blink-

-blink-

“Begin.”

The first target pops out of the wall, close to the ceiling, and Danny flies up to meet it with an ecto-energized punch. The next one appears from the floor, so Danny blasts it with a basic beam. Once Vlad feels he’s got a rhythm he starts the study session again.

“What is the smallest group of biological classification?” He asks, watching his form carefully. Danny rolls out of the way of a hostile drone but still is able to answer.

“Species.”

“And the largest?” Vlad observes Danny blasting the drone.

-BOOM-

“Kingdom.”

“How many chromosomes does an individual human have?” Vlad continues. Danny goes intangible to avoid some debris.

“46.” He’s not missing a beat.

“What are the three major parts of a cell?” Two more hostile drones join the fray, and the young halfa starts to falter.

“The membrane, the, uh, cytoplasm, and the nucleus.”

“Is the cell membrane nonpermeable?”

“No,” Danny takes a couple heavy breaths, “It’s semipermeable.”

Vlad pauses upon reading the next one.

“What are the physical or chemical factors in genetic mutations called?”

“M… Mutagens.” Danny swallows dryly, his gaze shifting to the portal at the end of the room.

“What is the phase most cells spend the majority of their time in?”

“Crud, uh…” A drone explodes too close to Danny and he throws up his arms, forgetting to go intangible. The smoke makes his throat burn.

“… Interphase?” He finally coughs out.

“Correct. Pay attention now…”

Seven smaller drones appear from all directions, intent on overwhelming the young halfa. Danny flies up and ecto-punches through the highest one, then grabs it, somersaults, and throws it into the one directly below.

“Good!” Vlad says, standing up in his excitement. They both notice the other 5 drones coming in fast.

“What is the functional unit of heredity?”

“What’s the what of what?!?” Danny blurts out between blasting with one hand and swinging a panicked punch with the other.

“Get higher, try splitting!” Vlad says, abandoning the study guide and moving closer to the battlefield should his assistance be required.

Danny flies almost as high as he can go without phasing through the ceiling. He manages to get some distance between himself and the three remaining drones, but they are close behind.

Quickly he closes his eyes and grits his teeth, trying with all his might to imagine himself splitting into two entities.

“Okay, one more try.” he says to himself, “Kinda like Mitosis…” Somewhere in the back of his mind he can hear Vlad saying something, but he forces that away to keep his focus on the task at hand. Slowly Danny begins to feel what he can only describe as a peeling sensation– as if his “cells” were dividing in such a way that reminded him of when he would peel glue off his skin in elementary school– starting from his wispy tail, creeping up to where his legs should be…

Suddenly, a drone’s blast hits him squarely in the chest. Danny’s eyes snap open, all concentration lost. Belatedly he realizes his tail had reformed after having been split into two. A familiar pink beam takes out the offending drones.

“Danny!” Vlad says, eyes still glowing red, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Danny says as he floats down sullenly, “I’ll heal.” Vlad reaches out to guide him towards the spare workbench they use as a first aid station.

“Better put the salve on it just to be safe.” Vlad says. Danny sits down and watches Vlad take out the special formula he made in his own lab back in Wisconsin, then tosses himself back to lay on the bench.

“ARGH! I was SO close! Right? Was I close? Because it felt like I was close…”

“You were.” says Vlad, “But I think you should stick to the exercises I showed you while I’m gone.” He transforms and makes a few duplications to demonstrate, starting slow but getting faster with each iteration.

“Who knows, by the time I get back you may be splitting in circles around me.” Danny looks up and realizes all the Vlads are literally standing around him in a circle and laughs.

“Ha! So you’re making the jokes now?” He says as Vlad pulls it together.

“Believe it or not, my wit may be used to humor us both.”

“Pfft. Some wit. That was real 'cheesy’, Wisconsin Ghost.” Danny snickers at his own quip and Vlad rolls his eyes.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope!” Danny says, “Say, what was that last question? On the guide?”

“The functional unity of heredity.”

“Geez that’s a lot of syllables for one thing.”

“Do you know the answer?”

“Uh…” Danny thinks for only a moment. Without the distraction of the fight, he quickly grasps the question.

“Oh! It’s genes!”

“Correct again, Little Badger.” Vlad says, handing off the small salve tin. “I think you will do well on the test tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Danny says, detransforming. He yawns as his exhaustion catches up with him. Courteously, Vlad lends him a hand.

“Come, I’ll fly you upstairs before I go.”

things i am here for in kh3:
moana (pleAse)
lilo and stitch
pRINCESS AND THE FROG
the safe return of ventus, aqua, terra (a long shot i know), roxas, xion, EVERYONE
MOANA
pocahontas would be cool

things i am not here for in kh3:
pirates of the caribbean
pirates of the caribbean
pirates of the caribbean

2

“All worlds begin in darkness, and all so end. The heart is no different. Darkness sprouts within it, it grows, consumes it. Such is its nature. In the end, every heart returns to the darkness whence it came. You see, darkness is the heart’s true essence.”

Newsies Fic Gothic

Newsies Fic Gothic

Time has no meaning. It’s 2016. It’s 1899. It’s 1899 but electricity and cars haven’t been invented yet. The past is the past. The future is the future. There are time traveling girls. Jack spends too much time playing Angry Birds on David’s phone in the lodging house.

Everybody is gay. David is gay. Jack is gay. Pulitzer is gay. Sarah is gay. Katherine it’s gay, The pigeons who were frightened by the trash fire are gay pigeons. Patrick’s mother is a raging lesbian who loves her gay son.

Nobody is gay, and everybody has long lost sisters. Race’s sister is dating Jack. Jack’s sister is dating Skittery. All of the sisters are very estranged. The Delanceys terrorize those that they do not date. The sisters tuck their hair into their newsies caps. Nobody must discover that they are girls.

Racetrack and Spot Conlon stood next to each other in one version of the story. Because of this, they are dating. They show their love by cursing a lot and being very cool. Shortness attracts shortness. It is law.

Spot Conlon is everywhere. He’s in Brooklyn. He’s in Manhattan. He’s in Manhattan. He’s on Mars. Spot Conlon is walking on the sun. Spot Conlon is the little voice inside your heart telling you to believe in yourself and be a good person. Spot a Conlon thinks you should start by eating more Doritos and learning to be a badass. Never fear. Brooklyns here.

The spelling of Crutchie’s name changes every time you read it. Crutchy in love with Jack. Cruhqi is in love with David. Crutchee is sad about the refuge. Krutchee is too good for this cruel world. Crunchy is one person and many. Kerutch-E is everybody’s favorite character.

Jack Kelly is not in love with Sarah Jacobs. They are only friends. They got into a fight and broke up. Sarah is evil. Jack is too gay to date girls. Sarah helps him date her brother. Sarah cackles and devolves into dust. Who is this Sarah you speak of? There is no Sarah, only Katherine. The kiss never happened.

Manhattan is at war with Queens. Again. Will the war ever end? Will our boys ever come home?

There are not enough beds in the lodging house. There are never enough beds in the lodging house. David would like to sleep in the lodging house. He must use Jack’s bed. There are no other options for David. There are no other beds for David.

There are background characters with no lines. They are your responsibility now. Use your power wisely. We forge our own protagonists in blood, sweat, and tears.

Is Jack a cowboy or an artist? His form shifts before your eyes. Is it David or Davey? Are they one in the same? Can they exist in the same universe, or is that a power granted solely to Katherine and Sarah?

Jack and Katherine have a ship. What is their ship called? Is it Kack Plelly? Jatherine Kummer? Goatcuticles? Nobody knows. Nobody can agree. The old ones say there was unity once. Heedless of this conflict, the ship sails on. At least for some.

Davey will never go back to school. Davey will be doomed to repeat his first day back at school over and over in an endless loop. Davey knows the square root of pi. Davey has some facts he’d like to share with you. Davey is unsure what a newspaper is because he is a soft and sheltered student type.

There is no you’re, and there is no your, and there is no yours. There is only “you’s, and if you’s ain’t happy wit dat you’s better hav you’d lawyer call me’s lawyer, and maybe we’ scan woirk somethin’ out. Or maybe you’s face would loike to meet me’s fist if you’s knows what I’s means.

AU, AU is the name of the game. Jack is a gymnast. No wait, he’s a star fleet officer. And now they are at Hogwarts. Keruhchiiiiii has a dragon. David is a very anxious lamp. Mafia.

There is a fic, old and legendary, revered by all. It is about summer camp. Sometimes people forget. Sometimes new people arrive with no knowledge of fandom paths once trod. The story is a beacon in the dark. It’s never forgotten for long.

Cooking Time!

Wherever you go on earth you will find “local cuisine.” Local cuisine is often made up of local food, things that are grown or produced only in specific areas, and at the most minute level there is home cooking, recipes and specific alterations to common recipes that only exist in your family. This is the core idea of my next story. (My first story is about fetishes that i brought over from my other blog)

    One day the Human crew decided to make special dishes for the rest of the crew. This idea scared most of the ship. What was acceptable Death Planet meals? Many assumed it would be bloody and gruesome, which for some of this dishes was the start, or poisonous, which the humans made sure to check food restrictions for their crew mates. Some of the humans brought on livestock, killed and cooked it in front of the crew. They claimed that the “fresher the meat is, the better it tastes.” Others brought pre-cut meats with leafy things. Some brought on weird squares that jiggled but retained their shape when it didn’t seem like it should to be able to. Lots of liquids, powder things, fruits, and leafs were brought and shared by most. Lastly, One human named Ernest, brought on a few cans. He did not labor over the flames, smoking oils, hot ovens, or boiling waters. Ernest just watched others work while he sat there with his cans.

The first was a human to make her dish was named Sophia from a country known as I-tall-ee. She made Pee-za. All the other humans seemed very excited by this, most agreed Pee-za was their favorite food. Though the crew learned rather quickly that it was very hard to decide on the makings of a Pee-za or where on the Death Planet it came from. Some argued the Pee-za from Nu Yurk was better, other said Boss-tan and Sophia said the Amerikans didn’t know what real Pee-za was. The only thing most of the humans could agree on was that it was a crime to put pineapple on Pee-za. A few of the bravest crew tried the Pee-za and enjoyed the finished item. Others of the crew were afraid to try it due to the humans arguing and joking about fighting if they liked one pee-za more than another.

After Sophia was Otgonbayar or Bay as most called them. He was from Mongo-lia. They brought mutt-on, which was butchared while the Pee-zas were made. Bay cooked chunks of meat with many liquids and spicys on a flat cooking plate. The crew was worried about the plate being so hot but were reassured that a cooking plate and an eating plate were different and they would not be getting food off the searing cooking plate. The humans all complemented Bay on the smells of the food which did seem rather good. Most of the crew was happy to sample the mutt-on.

The next Human was Suki from Ja-Pan. She prepared several meals. First was a hot liquid called Me-so soop. Many were confused that the Toe-fool in the soop did not contain the Toes of a fool, but found the soop to be tasty despite the confusing name. What bewildered most of the crew is when she made Fry Rise. It was a combination of so many things; small narrow rise grains, egs, ste-ak, vegtables, and lots of seasonings. Many of the crew enjoyed it but could not understand why anyone would traditionally eat such small food with 2 sticks.

Now came one named Robert from Arc-en-saw. He made a meal that made others wince in pain at it. It was a Cheez Borg Er wrap in Bake On. The crew who enjoyed meat loved it dearly. The other Humans warned against eating too many due to Heart attacks. That did not worry the Foorgorian crew members as they had 3 hearts.

Next came Mary from Me-he-co. She made a meal called Talko’s. Some of the crew theorized these Talko’s is what made Mary talk so much. It was served in a few ways she explained depending where in Me-he-co you live. Some cook the Shell, some leave it soft. Some roll the meats and sauces in the soft shell while others piled it on the hard shell. She had one sauce called Picko-D-Guy-o. She warned some people it was full of spices that make some men on earth cry. This scared away most of the other crew but the Bilnafs ate the sauce and literally breathed fire. They were checked into medical bay shortly after and was later cleared as ok and healthy to eat. The gooakomolaye was much better for most of the crew to eat.

Next to last came a man from Aus-tray-lee-ah named by the other humans as Auzzy. He made a Sand-Mitch, with a jelly called Vegi-might. Many of the crew were hopeful at the nutritional value of the meal as it sounded like a vitamin and that is where humans gained their strength. That was until the other humans did not wish to eat it. A few of the crew would taste it and many did not like the taste. This did not offend Auzzy, “More for Me,” he said.

Last came Earnest from a place called North-way. He held one of the cans up and a few of the other humans began to cover there face or leave the room even though the can was still closed. He explained this was a can of Pick-old Hearings, a small aquatic creature that has been preserved for months during the frozen time of year. The Crew looked on with half horror, half curiosity, as he opened the can. Some of the other humans began to gag at the simple smell of this food. It was later explained by the other humans that the Hearings are caught and put in the can with minerals that allow the creature to undergo a type of fermentation that basically is on the edge of decay and rot. It is checked by the local government agency to make sure that it is safe for human consumption, assuming that you wanted to consume it. Most of the crew was confused by this dish the most out of all the foods. Why did the other humans run out of all the foods that were presented this was the crews favorite.

For once it was the humans who were confused and a little scared as the rest of the crew hungrily attacked the remaining cans of Pick-old Hearings

Concerning Dark Objects and How to Make Them

Originally posted by psychoticblood

These are inspired by the series The Originals. Davina and Kol started making these cursed objects and I liked the concept so now it’s a real witchy thing! I don’t if anyone came up with these yet, but I’ve never seen them around so here ya go!

What are Dark Objects?

Dark objects are basically active enchanted items. Items which you have linked a spell to, and is activated by a trigger set in place by the caster.

Components of a Dark Object:

The Focus: The Focus is the item itself, so a necklace, a ring, or something like that. I personally really like using jewelry as Foci, but that’s just my aesthetic. You could literally use anything, I’ve used a spoon before.

The Source: The Source is the source of power that fuels the item. The simplest one would be to infuse the object with all the energy needed for the spell. You can play with the source to turn it into more of a trigger.

The Trigger: The Trigger is what, well, triggers the spell. I like using a movement, or a small rhyme, as it’s pretty easy, but you could make it so it’s activated when the object is broken, or when a certain person does a certain thing.

The Link: Related to the trigger, this component is optional. It allows to make the use of this item reserved to a certain person.

The Glyph: This is more of a personal thing, but I like to use a glyph with different geometry in it to relate to the spell itself. It helps to redirect the energy into the object, and to govern the energies better. Circles are used to indicate the flow of energy, and to contain energy. Squares are used to represent the four elements, as each corner represents one direction. Lines are used to link different components to each other (more on that in another post). Triangles are used to implement structure and strength to the enchantment. Spirals are used to direct the energy of the Purpose 

The Purpose: Basically the herbs and objects you would use for the spell if you weren’t going to use it as a cursed object. I don’t reccomend poppets, or other types of representative magic, due to the fact that it could make a monkey’S paw effect take action, but anything else is good.

How to make a Dark Object:

Making these can take a little bit of planning, of course, but I personally think they’re worth it.

First you want to pick a Focus. I reccomend something related to the spell, and easy to carry with you. Then, decide on the spell you want to put into the Object. Gather your Purpose and make sure you have everything you need. Then you want to design the glyph, if you’re going to use one. I reccomend using one of my chalk recipes depending on what you want to do. You should also decide on what you want your trigger to be. I reccomend a rhyme, rubbing the object, destroying it, or doing a certain movement. You also want to set up anything that you’ll be able to draw power from, like candles, crystal elixirs, music, whatever helps you raise energy. 

Trace your glyph out, and set everything up. Place your Purpose on the assigned spots of the glyph, or just throw them in a box. If you’re going to use the glyph, make sure the Purpose is placeed at the end of a spiral going towards the Focus or lines going towards it. If using a glyph, your candles should be used as Purpose, to send power to the Focus. Now, it’s time to start casting.

Write out a contract stating the trigger, and the overall intention of the spell using whichever alphabet you prefer. I like using Ogham or runes, but you can also use regular script. If using a Link, wrap it up in the contract, or smear your blood or the person’s blood unto the word. or phrase stating the trigger. If the Source isn’t physical or premeditated, state what it will be when you need to use the object, for example feelings, or entropic energy. Burn the contract and mix the ashes with water or a brew related to the spell. Anoint the object with the mixture. Now you want to raise energy and direct it into the object. Visualize the object sucking in all the energy of the purpose and the Source, if used. Chant the intention of use of the object, preferably rhyming, and visualizethe use of the object. Act as if you were casting a regular spell, but isntead of sending it into the world, send it into the object so it may act as a vessel.

Using the Dark Object:

You want to carry the object with you for when you use it, obviously. Use your trigger and state the target of the spell. Once cast, the object will probably feel different. Less charged, or lighter even. Once the object has been used, you can reenchant it with the same spell you used, or cleanse it in salt and moonlight for an entire night and use a different spell on it.

Depending on what Source you link to the dark object, for example your feelings, you could probably cast the spell as many times as the Source is powerful enough.

Ideas for Dark Objects:

A pendant used to suddenly make you extremely attractive to all around you.

A bracelet used during a test to remember the answers.

A ring to bring intense luck when gambling.

An earring rubbed to curse that one person who wronged you isntantly.

A knife with storms as Source used to cut the clouds and make the sun shine.

The possibilities are endless! Have fun with it :)

Joshua’s grandma in a church somewhere in LA: My sweet baby Jisoo…I raised him so well. He’s such a sweet boy and I’m so proud of him. Despite being young and successful he’s so humble and would never hurt a fly. I love you Jisoo. <3

Joshua in S.Korea to Chan at that same exact moment: I don’t give a rat’s ass whether or not you’re 18 or 5 I told you not to eat my graham crackers and you did anyways so bitch you better square the fuck up

Do You Know Me?

Oh man. I’m hooked (HAHAHA…sorry). I wrote some Sidon x Link. Because I am weak for that stupid sweet sharkboy. This one is for @cinensis, who is aboard this ship with me and as thanks for his awesome support. ENJOY.

All fluff - cut for length, not for content.

Originally posted by potionxshop

Link wakes up sweating and panting, the silken seaplant sheets a tangle around him. It’s hard to tell if he has made any sort of noise in his sleep, but his throat feels rough, like he’s been inhaling small pieces of rock. The private bedchamber Prince Sidon gave him is in one of the towers overlooking the square below, where he can see the profile of Mipha’s statue from the balcony, past the gossamer curtains.

“Once this whole thing is over maybe things can go back to how they used to be when we were young.”

That’s what she had said, in the memory he had had, and perhaps that should have given him some comfort, but…he had seen her again in his dream, and her image shattered into a thousand fragments. There was chaos and screaming, pain and darkness, and then…he had awoken before there was anything more.

Sleep is the worst time for Link. Sleep, when he can’t tell where pieces of memories end and the tricks of a broken mind take over.

Link rises and puts on his simple tunic - leaving the Zora Armor neatly on the chest where he had placed it after trying it on (even the perfect fit had frustrated him, though he did not show it) - and wanders out, down the stairs to the Domain sprawling below. He knows that on the morrow, he will be called to fight the monster plaguing them, once again take on the mantle of the Champion of Hyrule, and…

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