~firefly

4

for the anon who was interested in my PC setup! sorry about the long post, lmao.

it’s nothing too wild or fancy, but i like it. i set up all the LEDs to match and i programmed a custom keyboard animation effect, so it’s constantly strobing different tones of pink and the keys light up white when you push them and i made sure my firefly matched!

i wish i could get better pics, the time of day right now is so crummy for lighting lmao. it looks cleaner in person i promise LMAO 

i hope that helps! ♥

2

The best part of this two page spread: “Scarecrow’s new toxin will send Gotham into a feargasm that will shock the system”

Feargasm is my new favorite word.
Mistress is going to make use of this new information (¬‿¬)

All comics posted are scanned by myself at 300dpi or higher

2

You chewed the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to explain to Simon what you had done. He trusted you. He thought you were a good person. How could you just take that away from him? But he deserved the truth about what you had done.

“Simon, there’s something you need to know about me,” you started, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He blinked at you, “What do you mean?”

You drew a breath, “I haven’t exactly been truthful about my past,” There was no going back now. “Simon, I worked for the people who hurt River.” Shame and guilt twisted your gut painfully. “I-I didn’t know much about what was going on. I think I was on a support kind of team. Really low down the chain, mostly just basic research. But I should have known better.” You felt tears flood your eyes, “When I figured out what was going on, I ran. I knew what they did to your sister but I ran anyways. And now that I’m here on Serenity, I can see firsthand what my research helped them to do to River, and it kills me. I am so sorry, Simon.” Your voice caught, “I was an idiot and your family paid the price for it.”

Simon started at you for a long, agonizing moment. He swallowed and spoke, every word carefully measured, “Thank you, [f/n], for telling me.”

You hung your head, your chest aching. “I’m really sorry, Simon. I swear, I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to you. I want to fix what they did to River.”

Simon sighed and you could hear the pain he was trying to hide, “I don’t know if she’ll be alright. I don’t know what they did to her. Or why. I just have to keep her safe. If you know anything that could help me, I’d welcome it.”

You nodded, “I’ll do whatever I can. And, Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for giving me this chance. It means a lot.”

“I just want to help River.”

“Me too.”

Gif Credit: Simon

~~*VSFW*~~

Seoul is wonderful. Something fun is always going on and it’s so easy to get around. Moving here to be together with Joonmyun has been the best decision you ever made, but it doesn’t mean you never miss your home country, your old friends, and family. Even if you try to hide it from him, he still notices the way you look torn when watching the Olympics, unsure of who to root for. Or the sagging of your shoulders when you get off a skype call with your parents. He noticed every time you got homesick.

The cicadas were so loud and fireflies swooped overhead, blinking on and off the night he brought you over to Han River park for what you assumed was another basketball game with the boys. Instead, he lit some sparklers. “Happy Independence Day.” He handed a couple of the sparklers to you. “I’m sorry you couldn’t celebrate at home and that there aren’t any huge fireworks, but at least we can celebrate here.”

The night wrapped around the two of you, pulling you closer in the dark and bright sparks and smoke showering from the sparkler until your lips met softly, still smiling as you kissed. “You are all the fireworks and home that I need.”

- Admin J

Dance of the Fireflies

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Drums of Autumn - ch.15 favourite

“Do you remember Father Anselm at the abbey?” I looked up; the color was going from the oak leaves overhead, leaving the soft silver undersides gray as mouse fur. “He said there was always an hour in the day when time seems to stop—but that it was different for everyone. He thought it might be the hour when one was born.

I turned my head to look at him.

“Do you know when you were born?” I asked. “The time of day, I mean?”

He glanced at me and smiled, rolling over to face me.

“Aye, I do. Perhaps he was right, then, for I was born at suppertime—just at twilight on the first of May.” He brushed away a floating firefly and grinned at me.

“Have I never told ye that story? How my mother had put on a pot of brose to cook, and then her pains came on so fast she’d no time to think of it, and no one else remembered either until they smelled the burning, and it ruined the supper and the pot as well? There was nothing else in the house to eat save a great gooseberry pie. So they all ate that, but there was a new kitchenmaid and the gooseberries were green, and all of them—except my mother and me, of course—spent the night writhing wi’ the indigestion.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “My father said it was months before he could look at me without feeling his bowels cramp.”

I laughed, and he reached to pick a last-year’s leaf from my hair.

“And what hour were you born, Sassenach?”

“I don’t know,” I said, with the usual pang of faint regret for my vanished family. “It wasn’t on my birth certificate, and if Uncle Lamb knew, he never told me. I know when Brianna was born, though,” I added, more cheerfully. “She was born at three minutes past three in the morning. There was a huge clock on the wall of the delivery room, and I saw it.”

Dim as the light was, I could see his look of surprise clearly.

“You were awake? I thought ye told me women are drugged then, so as not to feel the pain.”

“They mostly were, then. I wouldn’t let them give me anything, though.” I stared upward. The shadows were thick around us now, but the sky was still clear and light above, a soft, brilliant blue.

“Why the hell not?” he demanded, incredulous. “I’ve never seen a woman give birth, but I’ve heard it more than once, I’ll tell ye. And damned if I can see why a woman in her right mind would do it, and there was any choice about it.”

“Well…” I paused, not wanting to seem melodramatic. It was the truth, though. “Well,” I said, rather defiantly, “I thought I was going to die, and I didn’t want to die in my sleep.

He wasn’t shocked. He only raised one brow, and snorted faintly with amusement.

“Would ye no?”

“No, would you?” I twisted my head to look at him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, still amused at the question.

“Aye, well, perhaps. I’ve come close to death by hanging, and I didna like the waiting a bit. I’ve nearly been killed in battle a few times; I canna say I was much concerned about the dying then, though, bein’ too busy to think of it. And then I’ve nearly died of wounds and fever, and that was misery enough that I was looking forward verra keenly to being dead. But on the whole, given my choice about it, I think perhaps I wouldna mind dying in my sleep, no.

He leaned over and kissed me lightly. “Preferably in bed, next to you. At a verra advanced age, mind.”