#it should have had the check engine light on for realism

[frickatives]

as the owner of a 22 year old jeep wrangler, the only thing that threw me out of my experience watching The Gorge (2025) was that the ancient 1940s jeep started on the first try and did not experience any kind of catastrophic mechanical failure

[spark-hearts2]

YOU ALREADY READ IT??!! I couldn't find any ao3 attached to your account so I just assumed that you haven't seen it 😭. I have linked my tumblr in other fanfics but not that one because I haven't posted any of my personal TADC work on there.

I too was sad about the lack of any proper Caine perspective fic. There were some good ones but nothing that went into the level of detail that I wanted. So I looked at the meme "me when I have to write the fanfiction that I want to read myself" and got to work!

Haha, fun fact, I actually barely did any research for the fic lol. That's why the fic only talks about RAM and not other components like the GPU and CPU. I'm currently in college going for a degree in mechanical engineering so I've actually taken some 3D modeling classes (fusion 360) and coding classes (C++ and Assembly)((don't ask me about assembly I was ass at it)). I enjoy disassembling electronics so I that's why I am familiar with the guts of computers.

Your favorite TADC fic?? Teehee. Wellllll, I might just have a sample of chapter 2 for you to try

Because he was aiming to be as realistic as possible, the entire adventure had to take place in one room. Or, one room that he divided into two sections (staff and customer area). Because of the limited space, he took extra care in designing the environment. He even designed a detailed city environment outside the windows instead of the usual skybox. It only extended a little past the end of the windows, but that was out of bounds so it didn’t matter.

Most of the assets he could take from his pre-existing library. Table, chairs, lights, cash register, all things that already existed in high enough fidelity for him to consider using it in this hyper realistic environment.

A few things he had versions of but lacked the poly count or high definition texture he was looking for. So, he just remade them. He had to guess a little with what it should look like, but there were a few real images in his training library so any guesses were made in confidence.

He reassessed ingredients, recipes, and the food that was involved with the previous cooking adventures. He made edits, swapped out cartoony models for more realistic ones, added more ingredients and remapped the recipe tree to be more realistic. This also helped with making the mechanic unique from the previous one. 

Power like materials were easy, as that was a trick with textures instead of an actual simulation. The liquids were more awkward. The usual simulation that he uses was optimized for efficiency, not realism. The most realistic simulation he had was purely to be used for creating animations, not interactable components. And a minute of lag between pouring and the liquid flowing was not acceptable. Maybe he should just make it a pre-rendered animation instead of a dynamic piece…

As he worked, he found evidence that realism used to be one of his visual styles that he could generate in. Which was VERY good. It meant that he could genuinely try to do this more and re-establish it as an option to adventure with.

There were a few pieces missing, biggest issues being some of the source training data, but the parameters still existed so he could make due with what was left. It would likely always be a bit weaker stylistically than his other visual styles because of that. But, it was guaranteed to be better than something that he designed from scratch.

Once the map was completed and the functionality added (testing was the last step before completion), he ran it through his judgment. Except, he would be judging his judgment.

Oh, this was so wrong. He was programmed to flag suspect analysis, but that was so that Admins could come and double check it. How could he judge if his own judgment was faulty? And if so, what would he do about it? It was simply too self referential.

But if he waited for outside judgment, then he might as well be ignoring Zooble’s warning. He could not wait as long as he had been waiting for the log out issue to be fixed, so he had to at least try to fix this issue himself.

His judgment returned the fact that the colors were quite dull, with the majority being brown, cream and gray. He ignored that statement, as his few images of the outside gave the impression that ‘real’ walls were cream colored, ‘real’ floors were gray, and most appliances were made out of wood and therefore brown. All signs pointed to this being a realistic color palette.

His judgment returned that the customer functionality lacked depth. He didn’t know whether or not to agree with this one, as he did just use the default mannequin avatar for the customer and only gave them three states: wander, request food, and receive food. 

His judgment recommended adding a time-based mechanic where the customer would not wait forever. Maybe the customer would light on fire, as they were made out of wood, in order to visually demonstrate that a customer was lost and that it was a bad thing.

The idea wasn’t realistic, but he couldn’t make a realistic customer in the first place. He did want  to add some kind of opposing force, as currently there was nothing stopping his goofy ganders from ignoring the customers and only playing with the food. He could predict several scenarios where no customer got fed and all food was either eaten by the player or thrown around the room. Yes, he made it so that all food items were edible and were therefore eat-able.

His judgment also recommended a food fight stage, as why implement a food splatter mechanic if it was not used. This one was easy, as he had no evidence that food fights actually happened in real life, so he ignored it... Even though he knew food was going to get thrown no matter what he implemented.

Ultimately, without the changes, his judgment rated the FUN level too low for release. With the changes, the FUN level was high enough for release, but just barely.

He wasn’t going to pay attention to the FUN level, not when it was suspected as faulty. But he did agree that there needed to be some kind of punishment for not providing to the customer. It just wasn’t a complete mechanic without some kind of reward or punishment.

Hmm, make the customer light on fire or don’t make the customer light on fire... what to choose.

Hello,

Do you wish for CAINE content? Specifically from his perspective as an AI? Well, I have a fanfiction (my own, this is my fanfiction that I am actively promoting) for you!!! Did I mention it has a 12k word count with a second chapter in progress (wip currently at 9k oh my).

it's a sort of rewrite of the Zooble therapy we got in episode 3 except I show off how much I know about computers. RAM is a plot point.

Link if interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60479521

I love your 3D donut renders. I prefer the long sprinkles but I am biased. Nice job on the background, I know people who would have just left them floating in space.

From,

Me

EH???

HELLO??

YOU MADE THIS? THIS AMAZING WONDERFUL FANFICTION WHICH IS SO FAR MY FAVORITE TADC FIC I'VE FOUND??

I cannot even express how much I combed AO3 looking for something like this (and found it about 5 days ago!); a fiction written from Caine's perspective that ACTUALLY delves into the programming and ai element (AND RAM) - it's phenomenal I HIGHLY recommend it. The research you must have put in to get some of the lingo right haha!

Sorry to gush but I was already eagerly awaiting more of this fiction!! (I have an account on ao3 not under the same username for my own writing and have it bookmarked!!) Amazing work on it, for real! I can't wait for the next chapter! I'm such a sucker for realistic and accurate fiction from a robot's perspective -

[mapleleavesart]

The Library

This is a short story I wrote for my H. Experiance in Writing and Lit class. It's for the magical realism prompt. Enjoy!

Word count: 864

I enter the library. The ceiling is high, many feet above my head. Columns hold up the ceiling. Most of the far wall is a giant window. Bookcases line the walls and make rows, only breaking for study areas or computer tables. A few students sit in these small openings, presumably doing homework. Many have headphones on. I make my way towards one of the computer desks.

I sit down at the chair provided, slinging my bag off of my shoulder and digging through it. I pull out my folder, open it, and pull out a list of books I came here for. I type the first title into the search bar:

The Happiness Hypothesis. Jonathan Hadit.

The cover pops up on the screen. I grab a pair of winged flash drives and plug it in. Color bleeds out onto the white feathers as information transfers over. Soon it’s brilliant scarlet, the wings flapping eagerly to get going. I unplug it and stick it in my hoodie’s pocket.

I type in a new book title. Thinking, Fast and Slow. Daniel Kahneman.

This flash drive turns yellow. The one after than blue. By the time I was done I had the whole rainbow and pink. The wings fluttered eagerly.

I stand and grab my backpack, then tie the flash drives together to make sure they don’t separate and fly away before I’m ready to follow them. I leave one out, the red one, and toss it into the air. It takes flight and sets off at a speedy pace, zooming around other flying books and winged drives.

The device takes me for a long walk. Guess I came in from the wrong entrance, considering psychology books are at the other end, huh?

It takes me down another aisle. I begin to wonder if this project is even worth it when the drive makes a sharp turn- right into the spine of a book. The wings fold together and lose their color. The day and time was recorded in the records, along with my information should I fail to return it on time. I pull out the book and put it in my bag.

I pull out the next winged drive. I don’t have to walk as far. Same with the next handful. My bag gets heavier with each book.

When I tossed the last drive, something strange happened. It took me to an aisle, then flew in a circle, turned grey and fell to the floor.

I stare at it. What just happened?

I pick it up and inspect it. Stretched out the wings to wake it up again. It didn’t work. I went and found the nearest adult that looked like they work here.

It was an elderly black woman, round in the stomach and cheeks with an intense fire in her eyes. I take a deep breath and approach the desk she was working behind. “Excuse me?” I ask in a library-appropriate voice. “Ma’am?”

She turned to look at me, a smile lighting up her face. I relax. She looked like if safety was a woman. “Well hello there!” She stage-whispered. “How can I help you today?”

I shyly hold out the dead drive. It was kinda pathetic. “I was looking for a book but then it just… flew in a circle and died.”

The woman took it out of her hand and inspected it. The grey wings twitched. “Oh, we must’ve ran out of copies. I can check the records to see when we can expect one back, if you’d like?”

“Yes please. This is for a psychology project that I’m already late starting on, so it’s a bit of an emergency.”

“I understand completely,” the lady waves her hand dismissively. “This’ll take just a sec, ‘kay, honey?”

I nod. The woman takes the wings and plugs it in the employee’s work computers- the ones with the actual records and more than just the library search engine. The wings return to white, but remain still. About a minute passes in silence.

“Oh, I see! We should’ve had a copy back by now- someone was late to return it. That must be why the poor thing was confused! Let’s see… ignoring the irresponsibility of school boys, we should have a copy back by the end of the week. Would you like me to reserve it for you?” “Yes please. Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetie,” she unplugged the now-clean drive and threw it like an airplane. It nose dived into a cup of other clean drives next to the computers, startling the living daylights out of the kid sitting there. He almost jumped off his stool. It was kinda funny. I stifle a laugh.

“Anything else I can do for ya?” The lady draws my attention back.

“Oh- no, I found everything else just fine. I’ve just never had one die on me like that before.”

“Yeah, well, we’re pretty good at having everything y’all need.” The elder patted her hands on the table. “Well, in that case, good luck on your psychology project! I’ll be seeing you?”

“Thank you. And- yeah, see ya,” I turn and head out. Time to get started. Wooooo.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Robot Jon! ☺️

(ok, I've been off tumblr for a few days, but I went on early this morning and had an ask with a bunch of prompts because I said I'd be taking a break from my Bachelor fic - which is true, if not for another 3 chapters yet. I haven't answered that ask because I'll lose it and therefore the prompts, but it reminded me that I still had two prompts left from when I asked for them back in... December? I'm the worst. Anyway, I re-looked at those prompts, saw this one, and then couldn't stop thinking about it. So I'm coming out of my vague tumblr hiatus to write this.)

Thank you, as always, for the prompt!

.

Sansa has never liked amusement parks.

The sun that always burned her, no matter how diligent mom was about reapplying sunscreen; the fried food that always made her sick; the crowds and the noise and having to walk everywhere. But the worst part was the rides – oh, she didn't mind some of them, like the Ferris wheel or the teacups; she could even handle the swing ride. The problem was that the rest of her family wanted to go on the horrible rides – roller coasters, haunted houses, swinging ships; the ones that go fast and drop you from a million feet in the air. And since it was hard enough wrangling the amount of children in their group to begin with, it was impossiblefor one adult to split off with Sansa, who alone wanted to ride the gentler ones.

And so, it's sort of ironic that she works at an amusement park now.

She may not have a taste for most of the rides in the park, but she is good at designing them – not the actual rides, but the aesthetics of them. It's her (and her team's) job to come in after the engineers and the builders and take a bare-bones ride and turn it into an experience. She loves her job – she loves watching children exit one of her rides with glowing faces and excitement in their eyes.

Today, she also gets to do one of her favorite aspects of the job, which is costume design. The animatronic models have already been installed, and when she enters the new Dance of Dragons ride, she can already see the scene taking shape in her mind. The concept art has already been drawn up, it's already being advertised – a medieval world that everyone knows is meant to capitalize on the stunning success of the Aemon the Dragonknight series (which her employer does not own the rights to, much to their dismay). But concept art is one thing – reality is another, and it's not until the ride is complete that she can start to truly see it come together in her mind.

“Oh good, you're here,” Margaery Tyrell sighs dramatically as she comes to meet Sansa's team. Margaery is in charge of Marketing and PR for this ride and Sansa knows it's a big responsibility, so she's been even more high maintenance than usual. Margaery walks her through the ride that Sansa has seen so many times in drawings.

“This is our Aemon,” Margaery slaps a hand against the shoulder of one of the animatronic models. “Although we can't call him Aemon. Copyright and all that.”

Sansa looks at the robot and she's struck for a moment how lifelike he is. A lot of the animatronics aren't this detailed, though she guesses this one is because of how close to the ride it is.

“He's handsome, right?” Margaery flashes her a grin and there's something in her eyes that Sansa can't quite place. (Well, she can, it's mischief, Sansa just can't tell why it's there.)

“I guess, in the way that cartoons can be handsome,” Sansa laughs and takes another look at the model – the somber grey eyes, dark curly hair, and an equally dark beard. “You even gave him abs,” she points down at the robot's chest which does, indeed, have a very detailed set of abs. “Am I supposed to leave him shirtless?”

“Oh, no, obviously we want realism, like we talked about,” Margaery waves her hand dismissively. “We just couldn't help ourselves when we put in the order.” Sansa shoots her a confused look, which only gets a delighted laugh out of Margaery. “I'm guessing you don't recognize him?”

“Recognize who?”

Margaery gestures at the animatronic. “Jon!” At Sansa's blank stare, Margaery rolls her eyes. “Jon Snow?”

The name sounds familiar and it takes her a second to place it. “The engineer?”

“Duh! Seven hells, don't tell me you've never actually seen him?”

Sansa shakes her head – she usually comes in well after the engineers have done their part.

“Mormont let him take the lead on this project and he's so... ugh,” Margaery makes a noise that's half frustration, half delight. “So serious all the time. But somehow likable? It's infuriating, really. And no one should be that attractive for a nerd.”

“So... does he know you made him into a robot?”

“He does not,” Margaery grins. “We're all just dying for him to come in for an inspection and see it. In fact,” she pulls out her phone and checks the time, “if you wait around for a bit, you'll get to see it happen.”

Sansa shakes her head and they continue on through the set, Sansa writing down notes in her trusty notebook that she always carries with her. Lists of costumes, set pieces. She'll need to bring in Asha later to discuss the lighting options (right now the dark ride is lit with spotlights, giving the whole place a surreal atmosphere).

Margaery eventually leaves her to it and Sansa loses herself in going over the set inch by inch with Gilly and Mya following along with her. She's so lost in thought that Mya has to shake her arm to bring her back to reality, and they turn to see a group of what has to be engineers standing in the main Great Hall set.

“Oh come on, Jon,” Margaery is giggling as a man who must be Jon stands, staring at the animatronic. He's scowling at it, hands tight around the pile of binders in his arms that are... well, ok, Sansa can understand now why Margaery made the robot so well muscled.

Sansa edges closer to the scene, and she can see that his fellow engineers are laughing – one of them is red-faced from trying to hold it in while another is actively wiping tears from his eyes.

“It's already made,” Margaery says in response to whatever Jon had grumbled to her. “Replacing it would be an irresponsible waste of funds. Oh! And here's the team that will be styling you... I mean, styling not-Aemon because that's copyright infringement.”

Jon looks up and the scowl drops from his face.

“This is Sansa, Mya and Gilly are over there.”

“Hi,” Sansa greets and Jon shifts his binders into one arm and then holds out his hand for her to shake (she can feel her face heating up and she hopes the dark hides it). “I promise to try and do you justice.” She regrets her words immediately, especially when she sees a slow grin spread over Margaery's face. “Though it doesn't totally look like you,” she continues on to try and backtrack. “It... doesn't have glasses?”

She wants to sink into the floor in embarrassment, but the gods are not that kind. At least she doesn't spout out how much she likes his glasses. Maybe Margaery is right – no one who clearly cares so little about their appearance should be this attractive. His beard needs a trim, his outfit is painfully unstylish, his hair is pulled back into a bun. All of it should add up to something she hates, but she just... doesn't.

(And honestly, Margaery's description of nerd isn't so far off the mark, but Sansa finds this isn't a detriment – in fact, she might be more attracted to him because of the glasses and the multitude of thick binders organized with labels and tabs that he's got tucked under his arm.)

“I'd also hope real Jon isn't built like a Ken doll,” one of the other engineers barks out a laugh and points at the animatronic, which, yes, does not have any reproductive anatomy.

“Gods,” she hears Jon whisper, and the hand that he had used to shake hers comes up and covers his eyes. “This is a nightmare.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Margaery sighs and pats him on the shoulder. “Now, why don't you take Sansa around and make sure she's really taken care of, hmm?” At the words, Sansa feels her face heat even further and Jon drops his hand from his eyes and glares at Margaery. “I just mean,” Margaery grins, not even trying to pretend the innuendo wasn't on purpose, “it might help the design if she has a good understanding of the mechanics. I know there's some new things on this ride we haven't had before, you could show her.”

Jon opens his mouth, but doesn't get a chance to speak, because Margaery barrels on. “Sam, Grenn, you can chat with Gilly and Mya while that's happening. And I... well, I'll just be over here, minding my own business.”

With that, Margaery walks away and the other two engineers – Sam and Grenn, she guesses – head over to where the rest of her team stands, watching from afar.

“You don't have to,” Sansa starts, but Jon quickly turns from glaring at Margaery's back to her and his face settles into something less... scowly.

“I don't mind,” he says quickly and maybe it's the low lighting in here, but she thinks the tips of his ears are red.

“Perfect,” she gives him her best smile, which seems to throw him even more off balance and... and she thinks she could get used to throwing Jon Snow off balance.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello Steph 😊 Do you have any BAMF Molly or just some good fics that feature Molly? I need some Molly love at the moment because I just read a fic where she "turns to the drak side" so to speak, and my heart 😭😭😭

Hey Nonny!

Ah I did a few comm. recs lists recently with Molly, but here are what I can offer you from memory, LOL. PLEASE add your fave Molly fics, guys! PLEASE NOTE these are fics I’ve read, and please check the sub-headings for a TONNE of stuff I haven’t read!! Big title so I can find it later LOL.

MOLLY PLAYS A ROLE

See also:

COMM RECS: Coming Out To Molly

COMM RECS: Molly with Women

COMM RECS: Molly and Greg Push John and Sherlock Together

COMM RECS: Molly as a Villain

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

What John Doesn't Know (Won't Hurt Him) by blueink3 (NR [T], 4,392 w., 1 Ch, || S3 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Snippets of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Fluff and Angst, Five and One, Hopeful Ending, POV Sherlock) – Five people who see Sherlock's scars before John Watson. But Sherlock's secrets were never something he could keep from his blogger for long.

Thirty Three Hours Without John Watson by Bookaholic, mybrotherharry (M, 6,232 w. || First Kiss / Time, Pining Idiots, BG Mystrade, Crackish) – Sherlock can SO TOTALLY survive without John Watson. It should be a piece of cake. AKA the time when Sherlock braved grocery store lines for milk, purchased and gave away a box of tampons and figured out what the X-Factor is. Greg and Mycroft didn’t sign up for this shit. Next time, they are going to the Bahamas.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w., 11 Ch. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w., 20 Ch. || Alternating POV, Molly/  John [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon...or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn't know what Molly's up to...but he knows he doesn't like it.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most. An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete. (This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w., 15 Ch. || Notting Hill AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

This Thing All Things Devours by cypress_tree (E, 63,844 w., 15 Ch. || In Time AU || Science Fiction, Dystopian Universe, First Meetings, Action / Adventure, Romance) – In 2169, time is money—literally. Humans are genetically engineered to stop aging at 25, when the numbers on their arm start counting down from one year. When that time is up, they die. The only way to get more time is to earn it, borrow it, or steal it.John Watson lives day-to-day in the crowded slums of Zone 13. He never imagined living any differently—until he meets the practically-immortal Sherlock, and helps him on a case to track a local time-thief...

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Stars Move Still by BeautifulFiction (E, 96,022 w., 5 Ch. || Magical Realism, Demons, Slash to Pre-Slash, AU, Happy Ending, Souls) – "What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?”

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (T, 107,998 w., 215 Ch. || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending) – On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years. Part 1 of between each beat

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

[purplerose244]

Irrational - Chapter 2: Restless

Hello everyone!! Here’s another piece for the @spacecampweek!! 💙

This shot if for the second prompt, “Sleep/Nap”, I got a little angsty on this one but there’s also fluffy hurt/comfort. Also this is a CollegeAU... of a future college? Krel is still an alien... and they were roommates 😎😎

I saw some amazing work for these prompts, my Campers mutuals you are amazing!! Enjoy!! 🥰

Summary: After just another night without sleep, work is still piling up for Seamus, and so is the feeling of doing everything wrong. Luckily, he got his roommate there to scold him.

Warnings: Mention of past emotional abuse

Read it on the AO3

Seamus used to think that being used to the all-nighters he used to pull in high school, with a heavy breath over his neck and a new list of problems to solve poking his back, facing college was going to be a breeze. He Had been an Elite student, he had graduated early thanks to his grades and he had been pulling through the weirdest Arcadia had to offer for a whole summer and more, coming out of it without a scratch – only a minor migraine whenever he thought about it. All being said, he had genuinely, absolutely, naively thought that his weekly cram sessions to stay in touch with the generic studies at the good old Arcadia Oaks High would have been enough preparation for what was waiting outside Mrs. Janeth’s classroom.

He really, really, really didn’t like being wrong. Especially since being wrong meant having to prepare a kilometric essay in a week about history of burrito engineering – huh, uhm? – in a week because he had decided it was absolutely normal taking four exams in the same period and leaving the hardest work for last.

Spoiler alert, it was not. It only made him regret his entire existence.

Or maybe that was the lack of coffee.

Which he was out of at the moment, great. It was the third time he had picked up his mug – ‘Count on me’, a little stupid graduation gift from Logan –, hoping to find restless juice only to suck air instead. It was also the third time he had groaned, holding his head between his hands and massaging his temples for a few seconds before continuing. It was getting harder and harder to focus on the screen of the computer at this point, even with the brightness at minimum.

He pinched his eyes with two fingers. Fourth time he did that.

Dang it, dang everything, his eyes were being tortured and only because he didn’t have his glasses at the moment. He had left his glasses in Eli’s castle in the sky – huh, huh? – last time he and Steve had dragged him along to watch another marathon of Earth Invaders – perfectly aware that he didn’t admit he liked it only out of pride. He didn’t absolutely need glasses, but it made it harder to keep his focus and the light was getting on his nerves. Everything was slowly starting to get on his nerves, but it was debatable if it was the inevitable stream of time extending his failure or because he had started the introduction of the essay right away instead of for last and was now doubting his entire half page – he would have screamed if he wasn’t this tired.

There were three more exams after this, the floating in midair one, the dreadful upside-down multiple choice and the GoGo Sushi exam – what? –, he couldn’t pull it off, he couldn’t!

This was hard, way more than he would have expected. He knew it was going to be tough nonetheless in a way, but he felt like whatever he was doing, it wasn’t right. He was learning nothing, all he was trying to memorize just didn’t stick with him. This papers, this situation, all the stressful work he was putting into, everything felt absolutely wrong.

Was he… was he the problem?

“Struggling to work your way through, huh? I’m not surprised.” Seamus gritted his teeth, pressing a hand over his forehead.

“Not now, dad.”

“Remember what I told you, when you decided to do be stupid and choose engineering instead of accounting? Remember what I said?” He wasn’t going to turn around, he wasn’t going to turn to find him in the room of his campus, with that awful scowl from whenever he found anything less than an A+ in his hands. “Try to go through the first college without me, see how you do! Guess what son, you’re making a mess. Just like I knew you were going to.”

He took his head between his hands, feeling it boiling. Stupid, stupid, irritating thoughts, always working against him. Always making him think that he was right. He wasn’t. He wasn’t right. He wasn’t… right?

No. No. No.

“I said not now, dad.” His room started to burn.

“When will you learn, Seamus? What are you trying to do, reach for the stars or some philosophical crap like that? You know the chances of being an astronaut are minimal, that is, if you manage to even get a master.” He could even feel him march behind him, his big and heavy steps, calculated in order to intimidate him. Every. Single. Time. Even here. “You should’ve followed the path I traced for you, the one I trained you for. You wouldn’t be struggling this much if you did.” There was a press on the back of his chair. “You would be happy.”

“Stop it.” Flames raised up from the ground.

“You’ll never make it without me.”

“Not now!” His notes and his desk were turning black.

“All I ever did was for your own good, you know that!”

“Not now dad!!” The photo he had left there gone as well.

“If you even think for a moment that an absolute failure like you will make it to the world, or even worse, that you could actually caught the attention of that foreigner-”

“I SAID-”

A noise. The door of the apartment was slammed closed after it had opened.

So did his eyes.

Seamus blinked, his entire perspective had changed. He wasn’t facing his desk, his face was right onto it, and he was looking at the door. In the way, the photo he had taken with all of their friends from high school, completely intact.

He felt the echo of his dream roaring into his ears before slowly disappearing.

Then, the absolute frustration took over.

Dang it, he had fallen asleep. He should had known, heck, he had known that he was going to feel miserable the moment he had decided to avoid the useless sleep. His cheek was attached to his notes, he was drooling over the equations, and he knew that the moment he was going to move his back was going to kill him. It was the horrible kind of tiredness, the drowsy one that was meant to stay, one hour nap was never going to suffice. His eyes felt like they were aflame, his stomach was growling horribly menacing to be emptied any time now.

On top of that, there was a good chance he hadn’t gone past the introduction for the essay. Oh how much he wanted to die right now. He closed his eyes, not to sleep, only to try to remember if his life was going somewhere. He was too tired to consider if this was realism or pessimism.

The was a thud outside his room, steps and stuff being moved around that caught his attention. A bigger thud, and half-screamed “Kleb!” in the air.

A voice emerged from behind his door. His shoulders relaxed.

“I am back! The morning shift at Hex Tech ended early, and Electronics did not have customers… again.” His annoyed tone was so intense, it made Seamus chuckle without having the strength to. Maybe Krel was the only person aside for himself that hated wasted time the most. “I hope you do not mind carnitas again, it was all Stuart had left from his truck!” Quick steps got closer, the door was opened. “It is good though, I wonder why it is always- Oh, you look horrible.” There he was, in human form as he preferred to be when he got out, even though he worked with friends.

Seamus cracked a laugh, without moving his face from the desk. It wasn’t comfy in the slightest, but the uneasiness went along well with how he was feeling inside.

“You’re sugarcoating it for me, how nice of you.” Krel did not look amused, that meant a discussion was coming and he had no strength into his body for that. “… okay, I get the feeling I did something bad, but my brain is all fried up so can you help me out on this one?”

The prince crossed his arms. Ouch, bad sign.

“You have been awake the entire night.”

“Is that a question?”

“Seklos and Gaylen, again?” He shook his head in disapproval. “I did not check on you this morning because I thought you were resting! Did you sleep at all??”

“… is that a trick question or…?”

“No tricks, not stunts, I am corpse serious.” It was a hobby of his, learning new expression and push them to the maximum. It was the funniest when he got a saying wrong. “Granted that I am no expert in regard of human necessities,” It was an old excuse considering he had been on this planet more than a few years now. “But there seems to be an agreement that sleeping is an important part of the day, so I am questioning if you are deliberately trying to destroy yourself.” That was actually a very good question, coming from a very good mind. As expected from this engineer genius.

Seamus shrugged, trying to gather around the best brain cells his brain had to offer at the moment.

“If it’s lunch time I got… huh, two hours at least. That’s something right?”

“Something very insufficient. You do know that is not okay, right?” Despite the scolding tone he got closer, placing his hand over his shoulder. Gently.

It was hard to get distant with him being worried, because despite the arrogance and the rationality this Akiridion cared so much about the people around him. Seamus was lucky enough to be one of them, and he wasn’t that interested in keeping up his pride anyway – he blamed his stupid sleep deprived brain for this. He leaned into his touch, covering a soundless sob with a yawn.

“… this is hard. I knew it was going to, but I don’t get if it’s supposed to be this hard.” He crossed his arms over the desk, hiding his face in the middle of it. “Is it normally this difficult, for everyone, or am I… really, really wrong?”

The hand on him twitched. There were a multitude of words unsaid in the air.

“You dreamed about him again, didn’t you.” Ah, the prince really knew him well at this point. “Can I begin by saying that your father is the biggest gloober I have ever met in my life and nothing he has said will ever be even the slightest bit useful?” His brain was hardly keeping up with his convoluted answers, but Seamus knew from the tone it was something uplifting. “I know that his words are hard to forget. Trust me, I understand what it is like to be conditioned by someone that is supposed to show you how to live your best life.” They really were too similar, the two of them. “But you are making progresses, you want to deal with your choices, and you are doing your best to become an astronaut like you have always wanted… that involves a procedure for some reason.”

How could he stay grumpy and melancholic with that pout on his face? This country had been pretty clear on the matter, the Akiridion was not allowed to improve space travel for humans. It had something to do with ‘allowing our specie to grow independently and finally reach the stars’, but Krel had taken it as ‘we can’t let someone else help us or we would look like soolians’. To be honest, the prince probably got it right.

Seamus looked up at him with a little smile.

“You’re never gonna let this one go, aren’t you.”

“Earth would be connected with the rest of the galaxy in a few months if they let me use even a single optimizer for the fuel capacitor. So yes, I am very not letting this one go.” Another laugh. Krel smiled as well. “Despite this ridiculousness, you are moving forward. I suggest you focus on your achievements, not on what you have not accomplished.”

It sounded so doable said from him, he simply had a way of being convincing. The blonde wasn’t sure if it was about his smarts or the way they had grown to care for each other.

He sighed, pressing his lips tightly together.

“It’s hard to do though…”

“I never said it wasn’t but might not be the best moment to think about it. Remember that time I told you Stuart got a sprain?” Miracuroulsy, inside his boiling brain, he remembered. Perhaps because the poor durian had gotten it after slipping onto a drop of guac – he had almost broken in coughs while laughing. “I brought him to the hospital back then, and I met Dr. Lake.” His hand started to rub his shoulder in a soothing motion. Ah, this felt nice. “She told me a lot of interesting facts, especially for humans that are going through college. Between those she recommended a good sleeping schedule, because restlessness affects the mood, which is additional stress.”

Ah, so not only his brain was making him feel absolutely miserable, it was also trying to make this even harder than it already was. Great, like he wasn’t a total failure already like dad always said… huh, maybe this was a little more internalized than he thought. He had left that house since months now, dad hadn’t called him at all, not even once. It was both a relief and a downer.

Seamus swallowed, turning again. Krel was looking at him, he smiled when their eyes crossed. It was really hard to keep his scowl with him around right now.

“… I have work to do, I… I don’t have time to sleep.”

“Seamus, when was your last exam?”

“What part of ‘my brain is out of service’ you don’t understand?” He got the eyes of no joking around, and he was forced to try and use his mind. “… like, yesterday?”

“Precisely. Now, again, I am in no way entitled to tell you how to take care of basic human necessities,” Okay now he was just enjoying playing the ‘I say I’m dumb but I’m really not’ card. “But I believe that studying all night after studying all night is not a good way to treat yourself, especially while you look like you got pummeled to the ground by Aja after telling her she was never supposed to be a warrior.” Whoa, that bad? “You have given a successful exam I believe, you will not receive the result for a while. There is no need to strain yourself, you are doing good.”

The blonde snorted, because motivational Krel was absolutely hilarious.

“I’ll let you convince me that I didn’t complete fail yesterday only because I have no proof of the opposite.” He did end before everyone else after rereading his answers three times. “But am I doing good? I’m a shell of a man right now, where exactly am I doing good?” He was probably admitting that this wasn’t good for himself, but there was no victory for the last statement anyway.

Krel hummed. Then he smirked, in his special way of his.

“Well, when I left, I asked you to rest every once in a while, and even though I was not conscious your body did obey. That was a wise choice of your subconscious, how about the rest of you follow suit?” This little irritating- “Not like my roommate should absolutely follow my rules, but still, how is not listening working out for you?” He snickered, shrugging a little. “I could also add that you are a mess, but not because of an overly high consumption of alcoholic substances. That is quite the accomplishment, congratulations!” He raised a thumb, something very off on him.

It took Seamus two blinks to grin back at that attempt at distracting him from his negativity. It worked, but just because he was grateful and feeling like his soul had left his body to go to a dance club, to respond to this guy he had all the energy in the galaxy.

“You sure you’re in the position of scolding me? What happened during Lake’s birthday party?”

Yep, there it was, the smirk turning into a pout. A super adorable pout.

“Akiridions are not able to sustain your alcohol, big deal!”

“Less about Akiridions and more about you, since Aja had a drink for each hand and was still able to beat her boyfriend at arm-wrestling.” An even bigger pout, if there was an argument, he could annoy him over was his rivalry with his sister. It was an easy victory. “Look, I get what you’re trying to do, but I have the essay for mech… stuff… something, to finish.” A massive eyebrow was raised. “Just because I can’t remember it very clearly right now doesn’t mean it’s not important!” Stupid brain, he was supposed to win the argument, collaborate!

No use, Krel was already on it, pulling him up by the shoulders. He was considerably less strong than his sister but still slightly better than the human average, which made him being pulled around towards his bed impossible to avoid. It did weird stuff to his chest. Seamus pondered if there was any reasons into trying to fight back – something that wasn’t going to gain him an even bigger scolding later –, deciding that even if it was a good idea he really didn’t have the energy. It was no use anyway, a moment later he was pushed onto the mattress. At that point it was impossible gathering the strength to get up once again, everything was beautifully bouncy and soft over there. He was keeping his eyes up out of pure will.

Krel moved him so he was laying down.

“Seamus, how long does it take to become an astronaut?”

“Again asking me stuff Mr. Tarron, you’re really pushing me on my limits.” Silence. Seamus struggled, but even right now it was a pretty easy information to remember. “Well, I need a master’s degree which is what I’m trying to get, then two years of professional experience, a thousand of hours pilot-in-command time on jet aircraft…”

“It’s quite a lot, is it?” He blinked, a little taken back by the interruption, slowly nodding. “Then why making it miserable? The way towards your dream does not have to be awful.”

Oh. Right.

Dad used to say that it had to be, that until he was accomplished, he was nothing. He had never said anything useful, for real. Seamus smiled.

“Yeah… yeah, I forget about that sometimes.”

“Try not to, space does not go anywhere. Literally, space-time does not move.” Krel sat onto the bed. “One day you will get there, and it will be because of your effort, but you don’t need to rush it. I hope you will have a good memory of this time as well.” His eyes were so soft right now. It wasn’t very often that he could get the most of this guy’s kindness. This was definitely a memory he wanted to keep. With that being said, the smirk coming back was also pretty welcomed. “Besides, I will be there holding your hand the entire time. No need to be anxious.”

This guy was the worst. And the best. And Seamus could do nothing else but sink his head into the pillow and laugh out loud, feeling the last of his energy slowly disappearing into that sound. He was almost in tears, moving to wipe them away.

“Why are we friends again? Scratch that, why are we roommates even?”

“Because Steve snores, Logan is not ready to leave his house, and I can hack into all streaming services without the need to log in.” The last reason would have been enough. “Also… you were there when my parents passed away, no matter how isolated and insufferable I was. I have every intention to do the same.” His cheeks reddened slightly. Never mind, this one would have sold him. Immediately. “If you are truly not feeling like sleeping, could you at least consider eating something? You need to gain your energy from somewhere.” He had gained this little mom tendency by being his roommate, finally letting his most caring side take over. It was still a little new for him, but also pretty… very endearing.

No one had really taken care of him before. Not since mom left, definitely not with dad around. Seamus could hardly get used to how he didn’t have to deal with every conversation ending with shouts, that an argument didn’t mean he was going to be punished, and that he didn’t have to gain his privileges like watching TV or go out with his friends through grades. Even with his brain all messy, it was a warm feeling.

It made him want to try to at least make Krel feel less worried.

“… no, I… I think I’ll try to sleep some more. Properly this time.” The prince made a surprised face, probably not expecting him to give up this soon.

He was clearly pleased by it though.

“Very well, I will leave you to it.” He got up. Seamus’ hand was on his wrist almost unconsciously.

“… Krel?” The prince hummed, clearly taken back but still close. “Can you… stay around? You don’t have to do anything, you can read a book or watch something on the phone, and only until I fall asleep.” He was too tired to feel embarrassed. “I… kinda don’t wanna stay on my own.”

“You’re never gonna make it without me!”

For a moment there was no reaction. Then Krel smiled, nodding. Seamus expected him to take the chair or something, instead he found himself naturally shifting away as the Akiridion lied next to him, his shoulders touching the pillow. He took a book from the nightstand, – ‘Love Amongst the Dragons’, he had forgotten where he had taken that from – one Seamus hadn’t had the time to read with his stressful study schedule happening. It was something the prince used to rarely do, reading, considering his general reluctance at accepting the terrestrial method of learning. It turned out you cannot learn college stuff through thermogenic osmosis – not without overheating apparently – so he had begrudgingly accepted the educational method.

As it turned out, he did not mind it as much as he showed. It was a peaceful view every time.

“I will be silent, please get some rest now.” Seamus nodded. His mind was too foggy to register how he was leaning his head over his shoulder, hearing a little gulp from him. Was he doing something he wasn’t supposed to? Whatever, Krel was warm. Comfy too. “… Seamus?” The blonde hummed. “Are you still tense? From before?”

Right, he asked not to be alone, it wasn’t a mystery why. He was too tired to care about keeping his pride, so he nodded, fighting the urge to sleep for a few more seconds.

“A bit.”

“… very well, then.” His voice got softer, as soft as the feeling blossoming onto his forehead. Krel had brushed it with a kiss, in a sound that barely moved something into his mind. Seamus’ chest felt lighter, as the prince quickly went back with his nose between the pages. The blonde didn’t understand why the reluctance. Was this important? It sure felt nice. “T-there, you should feel slightly better now. Have a good rest.” Seamus gave him a look. His cheeks were getting redder. He was cute. Krel was really cute.

The blonde smiled lazily, snuggling closer, finally closing his eyes.

“I always do when you’re with me.” All he registered after that was the prince holding his breath, like he had said something meaningful. Who cared, he was tired and warm, it could wait.

…

…

… three hours later Krel had left for the afternoon shift and his usual tutoring lessons with Steve and Lake. There was a burrito still wrapped left onto his nightstand. And Seamus, with a more rested body and a finally functioning mind, was having a full existential crisis while screaming into his pillow.

Dang it, four exams still to finish, and a crush on a snarky genius from another planet.

Studies were not the most stressful part of college anymore.

[overthinkingkdrama]

Jona’s Top 10 Dramas of 2019

A couple words about how I do these lists. Firstly, I only count as “2019 dramas” shows that finished airing in 2019, therefore dramas that started airing in 2018 but finished in the early months of 2019 have been included in my process, but dramas that are currently airing and will finish in 2020 have not been included. Secondly, this list is more based on my subjective experience with each of these dramas than my objective assessment on things like acting, writing and production values, though naturally I take the latter into account when forming my opinions.

Also: Yay! This year I managed to write a full review on every drama that wound up in my top ten, so feel free to click the link on each title and check those out if you want to read my detailed thoughts.

10. Hotel Del Luna

I have a somewhat Stockholm Syndrome-y relationship with Hong Sisters dramas. Though a lot of them are not excellent, or stumble a bit in the execution, I can’t seem to stop watching them. And yes, I’ve seen them all. Something about their particular blend of fantasy, romance and camp just works for me. I do think Hotel Del Luna plays to their strengths. Somewhat like if they got to take a second run at Master’s Sun but with their dream budget, and it’s just fun. This drama is gorgeous to look at. However, it is Lee Ji Eun, aka IU, who carries the entire drama on her lovely shoulders with her mesmerizing presence as Jang Man Wol.

Bottom Line: It shouldn’t be this way, but it’s so rare to get a mainstream drama where the female lead is allowed to be truly dark and flawed, or for a drama to fully focus on its heroine’s journey through the whole run.

9. Encounter

I was somewhat disappointed by the ending of this drama, and I think that might have made me unduly harsh when I looked back at it earlier in the year. However, I got the chance to rewatch episodes with a friend and was reminded of the soft, romantic escapism of this drama. Ultimately that’s the reason this ended up in the list. I like that it plays the rich woman/poor man, noona-romance tropes entirely straight and I liked the quixotic fairy tale it was unapologetically trying to sell me. Park Bo Gum and Song Hye Gyo are a noona-romance dream team up that I’m glad I got to see at least once in my lifetime.

Bottom Line: If you don’t like your dramas slow-paced and highly sentimental then this might not be the show for you, but I can appreciate a drama that knows exactly what kind of show it is and tries to do one thing well.

8. The Light in Your Eyes

If there’s any common theme to these favorites lists in previous years, it’s that they usually include dramas that took me by surprise and did something I haven’t seen before. The Light In Your Eyes fits that description so well, not just because of oddly dark tone or the quirky premise it presents in the first episodes, but because it’s a drama dedicated to showcasing the talents of the veteran actress, Kim Hye Ja, with whom the lead character shares a name. Of the dramas on the list this one made me cry the hardest.

Bottom Line: The Light In Your Eyes is a drama that has a greater emotional coherence than it does logical sense. In fact, if you think about the plot too hard it falls apart entirely. But it feels true, and that’s why it hit me so hard.

7. Search WWW

In my review I called Search a “female power fantasy” and I still think that’s a good description. It’s also sexy romantic fantasy, twice a noona romance, and a corporate drama focused on the very contemporary issues of powerful search engine companies and how they affect the information we see and the way we view the world. I think any of those is an interesting enough angle to make a drama about, maybe several dramas. If this show has one major flaw, it might be trying to wear too many hats at once. But I salute the creators for trying to make us something different than the typical pretty boy chaebol story, and giving us not one but three female characters filling those typically male roles.

Bottom Line: I do believe this drama deserves more love and respect than it got from a fandom that at least in theory cares about women’s stories. But I also understand why a lot of people didn’t connect with the lead character or the business stuff. But for me there was something about the lead couple that rang true and resonated with me.

6. WATCHER

Every time I watch a thriller, I’m hoping for something like WATCHER. Something with deep, complex, gray characters and a story full of twists and turns that keeps me engaged and guessing from episode one until the finale. Add on top of that a powerful cast who can really do justice to these substantial characters, you’ve got a winning recipe. OCN produces a lot of dramas in this genre, and they seem to be more prone to produce sequels than most other networks. Unfortunately, that also means a lot of the dramas they make feel paint-by-numbers and empty on the inside. WATCHER is one of those shows that reminds me why I keep coming back to this network and this kind of story time and again.

Bottom Line: This is one of those dramas that has you second guessing yourself even when they come right out and give you the answer, keeping you in a perpetual state of distrust along with the characters. But it’s built on the strong backbone of complicated and dynamic character relationships, which is why it is one of this year’s best.

5. Be Melodramatic

The higher I get up this list the harder time I have boiling down my thoughts on these dramas to one pithy paragraph. Often even I don’t know what kind of dramas are going to steal my heart. I have a particular weakness for dramas that can make me both laugh and cry, and then laugh through the tears. Dramas like Go Back Couple and Matrimonial Chaos that have deep heartache folded into the shenanigans. I love a funny drama. I like to laugh, but that doesn’t count for much unless I really care about the characters and their lives at the end of the day. That’s what makes me go from liking a drama to loving it, and that’s ultimately what I’m going to remember about a drama when it’s over. Be Melodramatic is special for the way it deals with heavy subjects in a gentle and lighthearted way, and somehow without losing the emotional impact.

Bottom Line: Be Melodramatic is a drama with tongue firmly planted in cheek, lots of laughs, lots of clever dialogue as well as a meta look at the drama industry from the inside, but the reason it works so well is the vein of heart, love and loss that runs all through the story.

4. One Spring Night

It’s so gratifying when a drama delivers exactly the experience you hoped it would. One Spring Night was a drama that ended up on my radar on the strength of the previews and posters, which promised me understated, romantic slice-of-life. I’d really enjoyed Han Ji Min in The Light in Your Eyes and have been fond of Jung Hae In since While You Were Sleeping. The pairing immediately seemed to have potential, but because the drama was picked up by Netflix, in the US I had to wait until it finished airing before I could give it a shot. A lot of the time when that happens, I see enough of the drama through gifs and screencaps that my interest fades. In this case I was only more intrigued. I’ve still never watched Something In The Rain but watching this drama has made me consider that might have been an oversight on my part. And yet I worry that if I watched it now I wouldn’t be able to help unfavorably comparing it to One Spring Night. This drama is truly something special.

Bottom Line: Because of the restrained, faithful realism of this drama and the two leads who seamlessly embody their characters, this drama has the almost voyeuristic quality of peeking into something intimate and private. It’s a palpable and thoroughly involving love story.

3. Nokdu Flower

I can hardly recommend this underrated gem of a show enough. I know nearly every historical gets compared either favorably or otherwise to Six Flying Dragons, which is kind of the recent high-water mark of sageuks, and I’m going to do that again here because Nokdu Flower is really the first historical drama I’ve watched since SFD that is at the same level of quality. One thing that sticks out about my experience watching both dramas is getting actual shivers watching these charismatic leaders rally their followers around them, and understanding at least in some small part why someone would leave behind everything they knew, pick up arms, and risk their lives for an ideal. Nokdu Flower captures the fearful power of revolutionary ideas in the hands of common people, but doesn’t descend into mere jingoism or sand off the rough edges or try to white wash the dark parts of human nature while it’s at it.

Bottom Line: At its most basic level Nokdu Flower is a story of revolution, and one of flawed characters either finding their humanity or having it burned out of them in the crucible of war. As that description would suggest it’s not an easy watch, but it’s a good and worthwhile one and definitely one any sageuk fan should check out.

2. My Country: The New Age

Compared to the far more traditional and grounded Nokdu Flower, My Country is almost fantastical in tone and at times eschews logic and realism for set pieces, sword fights and close range shotgun blasts of pathos. That’s probably why I love it. The larger-than-life sensationalism of this drama is what pushes it higher on this list than the carefully crafted Nokdu Flower, because this drama appealed to me on a more primal way. It’s so unrestrained and epic in everything from the set design, the soundtrack, the cinematography to the characters themselves and the performances of the actors playing them. Lurid, melodramatic, passionate, intense, suspenseful, romantic, raw, angsty, dark...I’ve basically run out of new adjectives to use while describing this drama elsewhere on this site. Basically, My Country is my id on a plate. Bon appetit.

Bottom Line: While there are definitely misguided and flawed elements to the writing and execution in this drama, somehow all of that is swept away in the sheer pleasure of watching it. If it had been specifically designed to appeal to every narrative kink I have, they couldn’t have made a more perfect drama for my tastes.

1. Children of Nobody

I finished my favorite drama of 2019 back in January, and then got to wait around 11 and a half months to see if anything else I watched last year would knock Children of Nobody from the top spot. It’s a mixed blessing to peak that early in the year. On the one hand, there was nowhere to go but down from here. On the other, I’ve had a lot of time to digest this very heavy show, which is something I definitely needed. I mentioned in my original review of this drama that each of the characters is an iceberg, so much more going on beneath the surface than what we can see. And what I’ve realized over the course of the past year is that the whole drama is like that, in a way. It’s an iceberg of a story, and I was able to pour a lot of myself into it, to try to understand it, and that’s part of the reason it was such an emotional watch for me. I don’t know when or if I’m going to be able to rewatch Children of Nobody, but I hope I can do it some day because I feel certain I would appreciate it even more upon a second viewing.  The fact that this is a murder mystery and a thriller is almost incidental to the emotional core of the story, which is deeper and more lingering than that. The secrets, once revealed, do not diminish the story but only turn it slightly so that you can see it from a different angle.

Bottom Line: This drama is certainly not going to be for everyone. I don’t know if I would say it was underrated so much as it’s niche. The difficult subject matter is naturally going to narrow its appeal. But I do think that dramas that require the most from me, mentally and emotionally, are often the ones that stick with me the longest and make me bend and grow as a person.

I sure hope you’ve enjoyed my top 10 list this year and I wish you joy, success and profound wellbeing in 2020. Thank you again--and thank you always--for following me. I’ve got great things planned for us this year.

Jona

[leowenila]

On The Brink (Day One, Again)

Hello! I started writing this about a month or two ago, but never finished it because life got in the way and prevented me from writing it; but I finally took the time to finish this from just missing early season fifteen Omelia and how spontaneous that kiss was. Throughout the beginning of this story, it may seem like it favors a particular ship more but please read the entire fic for the real and true ship; Omelia! There are many moments in this story that actually pained me to write and might be slightly out of character, but I guess that’s the feeling that happens in writing fanfiction that sadly will never be canon. I wasn’t sure of a good title, so it has two titles. 😊 Please enjoy this very angst filled (reunion worthy) and long one-shot!

Part two of “Shepherd’s Superheroes” will be posted eventually (I promise) and part two of “Strength Runs in the Family” is being written. Thank you all for your patience!

Regardless of the alternative pain relief she sought out with the blonde orthopedic surgeon and the delicious donuts they shared on an occasion as of late, there was one thing Link and Amelia never seemed to come to an agreement on or at least an understanding. The course of treatment and bedside manner they used with their patients in doing so. His charisma and overly optimist charm usually disallowed the realism she had always used with her patients as explaining possible complications or side effects. That terrible evening was no different than all the others.

The emergency department was crowded yet under control from the management of Teddy Altman; who hovered back and forth between triage beds as doctors of all rankings treated patients lying on beds. Once seeing the female attending from the main elevator; Amelia walked towards her for where a neurological consult was needed.

“You needed a neuro consult?” The brunette asked with tiredness but awareness heavy in her voice. Teddy checked the electronic tablet in her hands that listed all the patients that made their way into the hospital.

“Yes; bed seven. The paramedics said when they found him he was unconscious due to a potential overdose but needed confirmation. Is that okay with you?”

Amelia confusingly looked at the blonde cardiothoracic surgeon, in hopes to receive an answer as to why she questioned if it was okay with the brunette. But her mind was focused elsewhere. Choosing not to question, the neurosurgeon casually made her way over towards the seventh bed along the wall. Once standing in front of his lifeless and extremely pale body, Amelia removed her penlight to confirm if the man’s bright green pupils were fixed and dilated. She then moved onto a nerve test which came back with no response. Amelia glanced up towards the ceiling and sighed with disappointment after having a small hope for the middle aged man.

“Damn it.” She cursed under her breath quietly as she tore off the blue gloves from her hands and stopped by the main nurses station to inform them.

Over the past six months with no matter how many fake smiles or AA meetings she attended, a rather large part of her was craving an icy vodka tonic or maybe several; since the trauma surgeon’s daughter was born. And although Teddy chose Tom as her partner and to be Allison’s father; Amelia still felt on the brink of losing everything if for some reason Owen wanted the blonde in his life permanently again. With the constant arguments with Link, having to watch her sister-in-law’s children more than she did before due to Meredith picking up more hours at the hospital and finally, the patient that strangely resembled Ryan that night; everything felt overwhelming in Amelia’s life again and panic was ever so present. She missed the family life she had been creating with Owen. And Betty; she missed that girl everyday. If she was being honest with herself; she even missed her mom dearly ever since returning home from New York.

Roughly twenty two minutes after she had confirmed that the patient was dead, the brunette made her way towards her quiet but well lit office and sat back to hopefully catch her breath, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Broadcasting a large smile on his face that caused almost tooth in his mouth to appear, Link beamed upon seeing the woman in front of him who held the handset of the business phone, his smile lessened.

“What’s going on?” The blonde orthopedic surgeon questioned the brunette. She exhaustively looked at him and shook her head before speaking. With Link she always felt as though she had to be careful of what she would say to him, he was so positive about everything and the brunette did not want to drag him down into her sorrowful mood; but with the trauma surgeon, she felt herself. Eight months without Owen was exhausting. Eight months of being a shell of the person she was becoming after her surgery, was slowly killing Amelia as the days passed by.

“I am about to call the girlfriend of a man who suddenly overdosed and I already know the unimaginable pain she will feel, from the second I tell her.” Amelia told him flatly. The man in front of her looked confused as to why she would know the pain of losing someone to an overdose; and although he had many questions, he allowed her to make a phone call and walked out of the neurosurgeon’s office for privacy.

“Ms. Copeland; this is Dr. Amelia Shepherd, the chief of neurosurgery at Grey Sloan Memorial, I am calling in regards to your fiancé Lucas Bishop, who came into our emergency department about three hours ago now. Do you have a moment to discuss this matter?”

Once the phone call was made; the brunette grabbed her rather large purse and light sweater hanging over a wooden coat rack before switching the light in her office off. Amelia walked past Link with an electronic tablet in her hand and set it down on the nearest nurses desk.

“If Marie Copeland comes into the emergency department; ask for her to speak to Dr. Korarick for further details. I called him and he should be here in about ten minutes.” The neurosurgeon told the charge nurse, sitting at the desk. The nurse shook her head as she watched the brunette with understanding eyes.

Link saw Amelia and ran towards her, and placed his large hand on her back. He sensed her anger and sadness but looked past it before speaking to her, the orthopedic surgeon needed an honest answer to his unsaid question; but hopefully wishing he could take her back to his place to enjoy some seafood.

“Hey; so uh, How about we have some sushi delivered to my place tonight, and we could maybe talk about whatever is bothering you. I know you care deeply about your patients; but there is going to come a day when his fiancé forgets about this day completely. You know? Let’s go and get some sushi.”

The brunette quickly whipped her head back around, causing her hair and coat drift slightly. Her nose was a pinkish-red tone and her eyes were bright red with the slightest bit of puffiness to them. Amelia was about to break sooner or later, the sharp yet crystal clear vodka was screaming her name, she knew that she was going to order the moment she sat down at Joe’s Bar and the voices in her head telling her to stay sober were whispering in the distance but she was trying to shut them out; just like she was trying to do so with Link.

“A woman’s fiance just died and your first response is that “she will get over it some day” I told you that I know the pain she will feel, so what? Do you expect me to be over the loss I had years ago due to an overdose? What makes you seem like the nicest guy to all your patients but whenever it comes to your co-workers, you nitpick every detail they do in their personal lives! Why does it even matter if this case is bothering me or not?”

Nearby doctors began to form a small crowd around once hearing the chief of neurosurgery scream the last question to the orthopedic surgeon. He stood there confused and surprised that the woman confessed such a private thing to him in practically the entire intermediate care unit and doctors on the floor.

“Because Amelia! That is what people do; they take care of each other when they spend almost half their work lives together! Who was it? Your brother? Oh; that’s right, it couldn’t have been. Because your sister-in-law didn’t call you when the great god of neurosurgery was his death-bed so you didn’t get to say goodbye to him. How does it make you feel knowing that if you were called; he would still be walking these halls? He is dead because of you!” Link bravely told Amelia with not an ounce of regret in his voice and allowed his true feelings to come out. The neurosurgeon stood still where she was standing as a silent tear escaped her sky blue iris; never in her life did she have someone say something quite like that to her. Trying to stay strong as long as possible, Amelia needed to leave and without her knowledge her legs ran faster than she knew.

From afar stood Maggie with an electronic tablet in her hand; unbelievably shocked and saddened to hear what the orthopedic surgeon just had said to her sister, she quickly removed her phone from her lab coat pocket and placed the phone in the crook of her neck.

The streets were dark and nearly empty as the brunette traveled through the quiet suburbs of Seattle. Just like the people in them, many of the homes were sleeping while a few remained well lit. Although the roads were pitch black, there was one home and it’s driveway that she could never forget. Before she shut off her engine after pulling into the familiar driveway, Amelia wiped away the constant flow of tears that escaped from her eyes. She wasn’t sure if they were tears of sadness over her life as a whole lately or tears of realizing that just an hour earlier; she could have potentially relapsed but stopped herself. The young neurosurgeon knocked on the colored door until it felt like her knuckles were bleeding from the cold air she waited in, she began to grow anxious. Maybe she should drive to the bar. She thought to herself right before the door opened to reveal a still very awake trauma surgeon.

”H-Hi...” Amelia started to speak to Owen as to why she was currently at his doorstep that late at night; but because he essentially knew everything about the woman who he still considered his soulmate and based on the phone call he had received from Maggie, the man watched the brunette try and attempt to form sentences and at least give him a small clue how he could help. He received no response.

“Amelia? Is everything alright? Would you like to come in?” He offered and questioned, the brunette continued to stand outside of the house as multiple tears fell down her face and her arms were wrapped tightly across her own smaller frame. She shook her head, Owen could sense Amelia was embarrassed by showing up this late, he just didn’t know why she was or why it was so hard for her to show her emotions.

“I don’t want to interrupt your nighttime routine with Leo or your dinner or whatever, I am just gonna go.” Amelia hesitated and began to walk away before the trauma surgeon’s calm voice called her back.

“Amelia; it’s ten at night and I think it’s trying to snow, maybe. I put Leo into bed about two hours ago and the only time I eat dinner late is if I was on call. Please come in, and at least let me make you some of your favorite tea.”

And so the brunette accepted his offered request and walked side by side him. The two made it into the warm and dark home before Owen switched on the main living room light. Amelia sat on their comfy couch as she saw Owen wander into their kitchen near where she kept the tea steep. Water rushed through the pot before he placed it on the oven and watched Amelia from afar; without her knowledge. He has seen her broken but in the current moment, for the second time since knowing the brunette, he felt afraid of what she might have done if he did not open the door or like the first time; find her.

“You know? There are days that I still get really angry at the friend that gave me my first pill. She told me it would take all my pain away.” Amelia said out loud, not sure if Owen had been listening or not but sensing his lake blue eyes on her. A laugh escaped from her lips after the last sentence before telling the rest of her story.

The trauma surgeon removed the now warm liquid into his soulmate’s favorite mug and began to walk back into the living room to place the glass mug on the coffee table in front.

“It is funny, because ever since that day; instead of Oxy taking the pain away, it only adds to the pain. I have been so in pain recently, and I think that’s because I miss the relief.”

Amelia’ mind wandered off as she stared into the distance and replayed the last eight months in her head, and how being in the present moment with Owen again was the first time in a long time she felt safe. She felt like she could request a hug from trauma surgeon and he would wrap his arms around her without feeling ungenuine. She felt at home. And in the current moment she felt unafraid. Before Owen could think or offer for himself to drive her to a meeting in hopes her cravings would pass, Amelia leaned back and brought her lips to match his to passionately kiss him. As if no time had passed between them Owen reciproted her passionate kiss and matched her rhythm. Once getting comfortable, the two stood up at the same time and knowing exactly what the trauma surgeon was planning, Amelia nodded to Owen indicting that he could lift her up in his arms.

So he did. Carefully Owen supported her legs as he made his way towards his bedroom; their bedroom. Gingerly Amelia removed one of her hands that held onto Owen’s neck to quietly turn off the living room light as he continuously held her and kissed her soft neck.

Owen’s heart felt complete while Amelia felt rescued from being on the brink of making the next day; day one again, but instead she chose to make that night day one again with her soulmate. The whole time it wasn’t the drugs she craved; instead it was Owen who she craved the most.

Thank you so much for reading one of my favorite stories, I’ve ever written!

[myanime2go]

15 Anime Like Dr. Stone [Recommendations]

I am ten billion percent sure you have been compelled by the power of science and you’re looking for more anime like Dr. Stone. Well, you have come to the right place!

And for readers who have not watched Dr. Stone yet. Dr. Stone was one of the most popular anime of the Summer 2019 anime season, and for good reason. It was a fascinating show with a unique premise, interesting main cast, educational, insightful and fascinating to watch. Summary One fateful day, all of humanity was petrified by a blinding flash of light. After several millennia, high schooler Taiju awakens and finds himself lost in a world of statues. However, he's not alone! His science-loving friend Senku's been up and running for a few months and he's got a grand plan in mind—to kickstart civilization with the power of science! By resetting the world, animes like Dr. Stone really allow us to explore human nature and the future of society. Can we be better? Is it possible to restore technological advances to what it is now? It's definitely a fun topic to watch.

let's get started!

Anime Similar to Dr. Stone

15. Planetes

Studios: SunriseEpisodes: 26Aired: Fall 2003  If what you loved most about Dr. Stone was its commitment to scientific accuracy, you should give Planetes a try, it can be slow-paced but for your patience, it rewards you with amazing character development that sets Planetes apart from other anime. Summary Haunted by a space flight accident that claimed the life of his beloved wife, Yuri finds himself six years later as part of a team of debris cleaners on a vessel called the Toy Box charged with clearing space junk from space flight paths. The team consists of Hachimaki, a hotshot debris-man with a sailor’s affinity for the orbital ocean; Fee, a chain-smoking tomboy beauty with an abrasive edge; and Pops, a veteran orbital mechanic whose avuncular presence soothes the stress of the job. https://youtu.be/IzfiI1jIGi8 Planetes features distinct realism in its storytelling, relatable characters, a genuine sense of humour and motivational dreams. 14. Are You Lost? (Sounan Desu ka?)

Studios: EzόlaEpisodes: 12Aired: Summer 2019 Dr. Stone and Are You Lost? both have characters that must survive the peril they are kept in and characters that know a lot and come up with ideas to help survive. Summary Four girls are stranded on a deserted island after surviving a plane crash. How can they survive? Because of a plane crash … starting today, we're spending the springtime of our lives on a desert island!! There's nothing here, so we have to make everything!! And eat everything!! (Ugh!) Check out our high-school-girl survival story of courage and knowledge. We're actually doing pretty well! https://youtu.be/wwP8TQE2P0c Are You Lost? doesn't take itself too seriously, it is a little more light-hearted, funny, fan service fueled and filled with cute girl anime. while with some of the same themes as Dr. Stone, Are You Lost? maybe a good choice.  13. Space Brothers

Studios: A-1 PicturesEpisodes: 99Aired: Spring 2012 Space Brothers and Dr. Stone are both animes about science and engineering. Both characters also dream of going to space and both plots are rooted in real science. Summary One night in 2006, when they were young, the two brothers Mutta (born 1993) and Hibito (born 1996) saw what appeared to be a UFO heading for the moon. They decided that night to both become astronauts and travel out into space. In 2025, Hibito has become an astronaut, and he’s going to go to the moon. Mutta ended up following a more traditional career path with an auto development company. However, Mutta just ruined his career through a violent altercation with his boss. Now, not only has he lost his job, he appears to be blacklisted in the entire industry. Maybe this is a rare opportunity for Mutta to once again chase his childhood dream and become an astronaut like his little brother! https://youtu.be/ciS3fDqT1Vw Space Brothers is a well-constructed anime that mixes a heartwarming story with delightful comedy and relatable characters to show the audience just how difficult it is to become an astronaut. 12. Moyashimon

Studios: Telecom Animation Film, ShirogumiEpisodes: 11Aired: Fall 2007 Moyashimon like Dr. Stone is very educational and entertaining. It may not be survival based like Dr. Stone but most of the skills learnt in it, will be needed by Senku and Taiju if they are going to survive and kick start civilisation. Summary Meet Sawaki Tadayasu, second son of yeast preparation suppliers, who is forced to go to an agricultural university and continue the family business. He has the unique ability to see and communicate with microbes, and so he and his friend, Kei, are taken as students to the fermentation-process obsessed Itsuki-sensei. This anime follows Sawaki as he tries to make his way through university as discreetly as possible…which is pretty impossible if you’re as talented as he is. https://youtu.be/CzKecuRFICw Every now and again an anime comes along that is quirky, odd, and oftentimes underrated, Moyashimon is just such an anime. 11. Steins;Gate

Studios: White FoxEpisodes: 24Aired: Spring 2011 Steins;Gate like Dr.Stone is a science fiction anime that anyone who loves this genre should be sure to give it a try. Summary The story of Steins;Gate takes place in Akihabara and is about a group of friends who have managed to customize their microwave into a device that can send text messages to the past. As they perform different experiments, an organization named SERN who has been doing their own research on time travel tracks them down and now the characters have to find a way to avoid being captured by them. https://youtu.be/27OZc-ku6is Steins;Gate was one of those animes that made me laugh, cry and really connect with our characters. It also made me think, and it rewarded my thoughts by having closure and clarity. 10. 7 Seeds

Studios: GonzoEpisodes: 12Aired: Spring 2019 After watching Dr. Stone you are probably now into series that depict people trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic future. Well, 7 Seeds is a much more realistic take on this narrative, with ordinary people trying to come to terms with the idea of everyone they knew and loved being dead while trying to survive in the wilderness. Summary Scientists had predicted this disaster, and in response, the leaders of every country met to develop a plan for human survival before the meteor hit. The Seven Seeds project was developed out of this meeting. Each country froze a number of young healthy people, which allowed them to survive the meteor. After the computer determined that Earth was once again safe for human life, it released them into the world. The Japanese government created five groups of survivors: Winter group, Spring group, Summer group A, Summer group B, and Fall group. Each group consisted of seven members and one guide. The guide carried small tubes of poison on their necks to allow them to end their lives if their situation became unbearable. The Japanese government prepared seven "Fuji" as refuges for the groups. In each Fuji, the group would find seeds and numerous books instructing them on survival in the wilderness. https://youtu.be/7iCWs2HigSw Much like Dr. Stone, 7 Seeds is all about learning to prevail in the wilderness without the benefits of modern technology. And it's definitely can be seen has a more realistic, less comedic take of Dr. Stone's end-of-humanity plot. 9. The Promised Neverland (Yakusoku no Neverland)

Studios: CloverWorksEpisodes: 12Aired: Winter 2019 The Promised Neverland like Dr. Stone is a survival anime though not completely the same, but with its psychological thriller element it keeps us at the edge of our seats. Summary Emma, Norman and Ray are the brightest kids at the Grace Field House orphanage. And under the care of the woman they refer to as “Mom,” all the kids have enjoyed a comfortable life. Good food, clean clothes and the perfect environment to learn—what more could an orphan ask for? One day, though, Emma and Norman uncover the dark truth of the outside world they are forbidden from seeing. https://youtu.be/JIcjo7XVlOY The Promised Neverland starts off cute and harmless but it turns out there is more than meets the eye in this anime, with its cliffhangers, extremely suspenseful, tense and heart-rending moments. It's definitely a must-watch. 8. No Game, No Life

Studios: MadhouseEpisodes: 12Aired: Spring 2014 No Game, No Life is a beautifully colourful world, filled with wonder and brilliance. And like Dr. Stone, there is a lot of tactical thinking used by the characters which are very exciting to watch. Summary The internet is full of rumours about the Neet and Hikikomori genius gamer siblings Sora and Shiro. The two go as far as to refer to the world as a “shit game“, but then one day a young man calling himself “God“ summons them to a parallel universe. There, God has forbidden war, and “everything is to be settled with games“. Yes, even the national borders. Driven into a corner by other species, the ’human species’ is down to its last city. Can Sora and Shiro, these related failures of society, become the saviours of humankind in this parallel world? https://youtu.be/fV7nGIUuyzA No Game No Life is a brilliantly exciting masterpiece that challenges and excites viewers all at once. And just like Dr. Stone, you will find yourself needing to binge-watch the whole series if you decide to give it a try. 7. Cells at Work! (Hataraku Saibou)

Studios: David ProductionEpisodes: 13Aired: Summer 2018 After watching Dr. Stone, if you’re curious about science and biology, Cells at Work! Is definitely the show for you, it will satisfy and entertain you to no end, with its educational substance, comedic take and like Dr. Stone, it is an exciting take on the 'science is fun' trope. Summary Within the human body there is said to be approximately 60 million cells. White blood cells, red blood cells, platelets, macrophages, memory cells, killer T cells, natural killer cells, B cells, mast cells and many more! All these different cells work tirelessly within the body, never resting for a moment, at any time willing to resist invading foreign entities like germs and viruses to the bitter end! From Akane Shimizu, winner of Shounen Sirius’ Rookie Award, comes an informative tale about anthropomorthized cells! https://youtu.be/HMXWvvjAJek Cells at Work! is definitely different from a lot of anime shows, I mean how many shows are set inside the human body, humanizing all the cells and microscopic organisms within. It's definitely a must-watch if you liked Dr. Stone. 6. Astra Lost in Space (Kanata no Astra)

Studios: LercheEpisodes: 12Aired: Summer 2019 Kanata no Astra is definitely an underrated anime, looks can be deceiving and that's how this anime feels at first glance but it's a real gem and like Dr. Stone is a whole new breath of fresh air. Summary The year is 2061 when space travel is now possible and commercially viable, and the students of Caird High School embark on their Planet Camp. But soon after Group B5 arrived at their planetary campsite, a mysterious and unforeseen sentient light sphere warps its 9 members into outer space, stranding them 5012 light-years away from their home planet. With the discovery of an old, unmanned spaceship nearby, the students must stay strong, manage their limited resources and remain united in the darkness of space, so that all of them can survive their long and likely perilous trek back home aboard the Astra. https://youtu.be/wD9o_8UjOvg Kanata no Astra is a really decent anime, with a lot of mystery, logic and survival. Each element is done in a reasonable and accurate way like Dr. Stone, even the humour and drama aspects are well balanced and perfectly timed. 5. From the New World (Shinsekai Yori)

Studios: A-1 Pictures Episodes: 25Aired: Fall 2012 From the New World is like Dr. Stone just a lot darker and with a more serious tone, looking at how humanity has survived its destruction and rebuilt society. Asking the big questions what is yourself? society? and the importance of humanity? Summary The story is set in Japan a millennium from now. Five children — the protagonist Saki, Satoru, Maria, Mamoru, and Shun — have been born and raised in a tranquil town that can be described as a utopia, overflowing with water and green foliage. The world is ruled by people who have the “cursed power“ or the “gods’ power“ of telekinesis. After a certain incident, Saki and the others come to realize the true nature of their world. Before long, they learn everything, including the bloody history that brought humanity to this state. The five throw themselves into life-threatening adventure, fighting to protect friends and a world on the brink of collapse. https://youtu.be/hJn3FNPoY5A From the New World is a slow-paced anime but if you are patient with it, it's an amazing and thought-provoking anime that you will be glad you watched. 4. Silver Spoon (Gin no Saji)

Studios: A-1 PicturesEpisodes: 11Aired: Summer 2012 When I started watching Silver Spoon, like Dr. Stone I had my reservations thinking it would just be another fun little slice of life anime but it was much more. Summary Yugo Hachiken aspires to live separated from his family, so he takes the initiative by enrolling in an agriculture school. He thinks, with his talent in studying, no problems will arise no matter what kind of school he attends. He is quickly proven wrong. Raised as a city boy, he is forced to uncover the inconvenient truth about agricultural life. Enjoy the story of Hachiken, as he tries to keep up with his new friends, farmers’ heirs, who are already accustomed to the harsh world of farming. The story of a sweat, tear, and mud-stained youth begins! https://youtu.be/b-yCzcYqH5E Silver Spoon like Dr. Stone is the perfect example of an anime that encourages us to believe in our abilities to set our own path and with hard work and teamwork, we can overcome hardship. 3. Death Note

Studios: MadhouseEpisodes: 37Aired: Fall 2006 When Tsukasa Shishiou reveals his intention to revive only the young, destroy the petrified adults and leave society in the Stone Age, Dr. Stone started to remind me a lot of Death Note. With the strong rivalry between our protagonist and rival, the way they used their intellect to get things done, outsmarting the rest of the cast or just the lengths they went to achieve their dreams. Summary An overachieving 12th grader, Yagami Light is an aspiring young man who seems destined for success. Unfortunately, his daily habits bore his incredible intelligence. So when a strange black notebook falls from the heavens during his class, it isn’t long before he takes it for himself. In his room, he finds, to his horror/fascination, that the Death Note is real, and owned by Ryuk, a Shinigami (Death God). Any person’s name written in the Death Note will die in 40 seconds.... without fail. With this supposed gift of God, Light swears upon his grave that he will ’cleanse’ the world of the evil and needless people that inhabit it, thus creating a utopia for all. With the world’s greatest detective, L, hot on his tail, will Light’s ideals prove too fantastic to realize, or will he succeed bringing justice? https://youtu.be/Vt_3c8BgxV4 Death Note is definitely one of the best anime series of all time. 2. Ascendance of a Bookworm

Studios: Ajia-DoEpisodes: 14Aired: Fall 2019 Ascendance of a Bookworm starts off like Dr. Stone the main character is removed from her world and brought back to a world that is primitive to her own. Using science and history knowledge from her time period to adapt and influence the new world and its native inhabitants. Summary Reino, a book-loving college student who just got her Librarian certification and was just hired to be the librarian of a large university library. Just before graduating and entering the job of her dreams, she was killed by a massive earthquake crushing her underneath a pile of her own books. Wishing for reincarnation in order to read evermore, where she got reincarnated to was a world with a low literacy rate and very few books, limited only to the nobility of the world. As she reincarnated as the daughter of a lowly soldier, no matter how much she wants to read there is no way there are any books around. If there are no books then what do you do? Why you make them yourself of course. What her goal is, to become the librarian of a library! In order to live a life surrounded by books, she starts with making books. https://youtu.be/KfPyxG-ZbFM Ascendance of a Bookworm is Dr. Stone for viewers who want a slow-paced plot, that explores more of the ordinary life of a bookworm. It's a beautiful isekai anime I recommend you give a try. Honourable Mentions Tokyo Magnitude 8.0

Studios: Bones, Kinema CitrusEpisodes: 11Aired: Summer 2009 Uninhabited Planet Survive! (Mujin Wakusei Survive)

Studios: Madhouse, Telecom Animation FilmEpisodes: 52Aired: Fall 2003 Kemurikusa

Studios: YaoyorozuEpisodes: 12Aired: Winter 2019 Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind

Studios: Studio Hibari, TopcraftEpisodes: 1Aired: Winter 1984 The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

Studios: J.C.Staff, Egg FirmEpisodes: 120Aired: Summer 2016 Jyu-Oh-Sei: Planet of the Beast King

Studios: BonesEpisodes: 11Aired: Spring 2006 1. Girl’s Last Tour

Studios: White FoxEpisodes: 12Aired: Fall 2017 Girl’s Last Tour is quite similar to Dr. Stone in both plots happen in an apocalyptic world, where our characters survive the day-to-day hostilities of their environments. Summary Civilization is dead, but Chito and Yuuri are still alive. So they hop aboard their beloved Kettenkrad motorbike and aimlessly wander the ruins of the world they once knew. Day after hopeless day, they look for their next meal and fuel for their ride. But as long as the two are together, even an existence as bleak as theirs has a ray or two of sunshine in it, whether they're sucking down their fill of soup or hunting for machine parts to tinker with. For two girls in a world full of nothing, the experiences and feelings the two shares give them something to live for… https://youtu.be/SuVVs4giZrI Girls’ Last Tour is lighthearted and emotionally; it excels through simplicity and thoughtfulness. Making it one Of best shows of its year.

science!!!!! Well, that's my list. Do you think there is any anime I missed let me know in the comments section below? Till next time stay safe. Read the full article

[burberrycanary]

They sort of break up on February 17 and definitely get back together on March 15. They barely talk between “the Valentine's Day massacre and the ides of the March,” he jokes later, sitting next to her in a booth at Pop’s and hoping that she’ll slide closer to rest her head on his shoulder like she used to.

She doesn’t. But she takes his hand.

Betty strikes a bargain with him in the first week after they’re official again: they won’t celebrate his birthday as long as they start skipping Valentine's Day, too.

It was never about Valentine's Day, he wants to say. But then it was never really about his birthday either.

—

Last week’s snow lingers on the north edges of buildings and in dirty, packed-hard piles near the ends of driveways. Over the last few days the air has lost the worst of its damp, brutal edge. By the trailer park fence, small purple and white flowers spill down the side of rotted out wooden planters abandoned long ago.

He’s walking past the faded Sunnyside Trailer Park sign when his phone vibrates in his pocket. A hot-cold rush coils up tight in his chest when he sees Betty’s name.

Jughead swipes to pick up and says, “Hey.”

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

I had so many season 2 bughead feels and nowhere to put them so I wrote this. Many thanks to my amazing, amazing betas, @soyforramen and @bewarethesmirk <3333

I Leave This at Your Ear

They sort of break up on February 17 and definitely get back together on March 15. They barely talk between “the Valentine's Day massacre and the ides of the March,” he jokes later, sitting next to her in a booth at Pop’s and hoping that she’ll slide closer to rest her head on his shoulder like she used to.

She doesn’t. But she takes his hand.

Betty strikes a bargain with him in the first week after they’re official again: they won’t celebrate his birthday as long as they start skipping Valentine's Day, too.

It was never about Valentine's Day, he wants to say. But then it was never really about his birthday either.

   Last week’s snow lingers on the north edges of buildings and in dirty, packed-hard piles near the ends of driveways. Over the last few days the air has lost the worst of its damp, brutal edge. By the trailer park fence, small purple and white flowers spill down the side of rotted out wooden planters abandoned long ago.

He’s walking past the faded Sunnyside Trailer Park sign when his phone vibrates in his pocket. A hot-cold rush coils up tight in his chest when he sees Betty’s name.

Jughead swipes to pick up and says, “Hey.”

“Jug.”

He thinks stupidly of repeating, hey, then thinks of asking if she needs something—except he gets a flicker of warning that the question would come out wrong, like she needs a reason to call.

The quiet fumbles along between them. Background noise filters over the line: a confusion of distant voices and a single muffled car horn.

“Practice just finished,” Betty offers. “V’s giving me a ride home. She’s calling a car.”

He's never bothered to work out the details of Veronica’s endless supply of mysterious black cars. They’re just part of the Veronica Lodge brand of magical realism: best simply accepted.

But the oddity catches at him, since Betty has never liked asking for favors and, though it’s cold out, the sky is a clear sweep of blue.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah, of course.” He can hear Betty blow out a steadying breath. “I took a fall at practice. It's nothing, just a few bruises. I could walk home. I’m okay.”

But her voice is too flat as though, after everything in the last six months, she is no longer calibrated to register this scale of hurt.

“The more you say you're fine, Betts, the less I believe you.”

She gives a short, breathy laugh, the one that tends to land between a giggle and a scoff.

“Jug, I’m fine. The fall looked worse than it was. But if Veronica wants to drop me off at home, she can. She'll feel better.”

Jughead pictures her standing on the top of the steps leading out of Riverdale High in the cool cast of afternoon light, waiting for a car she doesn't want. But then he considers how observant Veronica can be when she isn't distracted and how far Betty will stretch the edges of I’m fine.

What kind of fall looks worse than it is, he wonders.

“You're really all right?”

“Yeah. I was just calling to say hi. Hang on.” Muffled voices overlap and then Betty's back on. “I should go.”

He nods to himself. “Okay. I’ll call you later.”

A silence spins out to fill the space where Betty would have once given an easy hum of agreement or, near the end, one of those mournful I love yous.

He's about to hang up when he hears her voice again.

“Hey, Jug.”

“Yeah?” Another pause stretches out, but this one doesn't feel so heavy. He knocks the side of his boot against the wooden post holding up the trailer park sign.

“This weekend.” She trails off. A choppy truck engine approaches and fades along the unseen road that runs south of the trailer park. “My parents will be gone some. They’re leaving Friday after work.”

Before, inviting her over would have been like nothing. Jughead arranges and listens to the words in his head twice before he can manage, “Want to come over?”

A handful of heartbeats lurch past before Betty gives a quiet, firm, “Yes.”

   He calls her after school on Wednesday from the Red and Black’s office-slash-darkroom, tipping his chair back and staring at the silver coffeemaker she’d brought over that he’d kept on using most school days even when they weren’t talking. He hasn’t turned up any new leads. Nothing about the fundamentals of Southside High has changed and his classes are boring, so he tells her about the new, unexpectedly high brow graffiti that repeats down all the lockers in the main hallway: but is it art? but is it art? but is it art?

Betty doesn’t call on Thursday, but just after eleven she texts him good night with a moon. He watches the typing dots cycle and cycle and then disappear. Nothing else shows up.

  Friday morning she texts: 9:30 ok?

For an insane moment he debates whether he should text back yes, sure or great.

He presses his forehead against the kitchen cabinet door, hard, and goes with a thumbs up emoji.

   She knocks at about quarter to ten. Jughead takes a breath and, after a moment of deliberation, leaves his beanie on the arm of the couch.

When he opens the door, Betty is staring back down the battered steps. The yellow wash of the porch light turns her a little bit golden and her profile is sharply defined against the surrounding dark. He tries not to think too hard about the last time she was here, how that ended, just how many nights he’s wanted to open the door and see her like this.

“Hey, you.”

She looks up and smiles. “I got Pop’s.” She lifts the white takeout bag towards him.

He shoves down saying I love you, because the words would come out as a joke, and closes his fingers over hers instead of taking the bag. He tugs her a step closer. She tips her face up so he bends down and kisses her, thinking the words in a fast, dizzying loop.

She pulls back with one last brush against his mouth and, after a perfectly dragged out pause, says, “It’s just Pop’s.”

Jughead huffs out a laugh, kisses her forehead and takes the grease-spotted white bag.

“Come on in.”

   They eat at the kitchen table off of the paper wrappers. She got him two cheeseburgers, two orders of fries and a strawberry milkshake.

Betty eats her burger fast but picks at her fries as she tells him about school, about the voicemail she got from Polly, about Kevin’s steady hook up and sorta-maybe boyfriend that he’ll talk about only using waspish cynicism or TMI designed to bait her into shutting the topic down.

Betty frowns at her fries like she wants to help Kevin with this problem of being a little fucked up by life and doesn’t know how.

Jughead presses his knee against the side of her leg because she’s already helping more than she knows, but Betty flinches away. “Sorry. Cheerleading.”

The fall.

“I didn’t know it was that bad.”

She shrugs. “I got off pretty easy.”

“‘It could’ve been worse’ wasn’t really the standard I had in mind.”

Betty regards him from across the table and finally says, “Okay.” Only, because she’s Betty Cooper, she has to add, “But I’m—”

“I get it.” He reaches out to steal one of her fries even though he’s not even done with his own yet. “You’re okay.”

She absently tilts her bag of fries towards him a little bit more.

   He gathers up the paper wrappers and empty milkshake cups while Betty gets the small pink gym bag she left by the door.

That tethered draw, which can sometimes pull him in so tight, leads him down the hall after her and deposits him with a shoulder propped against the bathroom door that she’s left open as she unpacks a little transparent travel bag that holds a crinkly green packet of wipes she uses to clean her face, a few small bottles and a toothbrush.

Betty takes off her makeup with a white cloth that leaves her skin faintly pink. She tugs the elastic out of her ponytail and rubs her fingers against her scalp, shaking her hair out into waves that settle around her shoulders. He’d stand here and watch her brush her teeth if that didn’t cross the line between a little weird and full on creepy. So he retreats into the kitchen. He closes his laptop but leaves it charging on the kitchen counter, double-checks the deadbolt and then stalls out in the boxy area between the kitchen, the living room and the front door.

He still has some condoms left from before. He assumes she came over for sex, but—Jughead stares up at the ceiling and thinks, What the fuck do I know?

  He trades places with her in the bathroom to brush his teeth, sliding past her.

When he’s done and opens the door, she’s leaning back against the wall of the narrow hallway, less than two steps away.

All he wants to do is take those couple steps forward, to get back to that lost place where he wouldn’t have thought twice about any of this.

Maybe if she wasn’t banged up, they’d crash into each other with the blurred out rush that comes so easy between them. But what he’s got right now is this: Betty nudging the flannel off his shoulders as he kisses down her neck, Betty tugging his t-shirt up and off as he straightens, Betty staring at his shoulders and chest.

He brings his arms up against the wall to box her in and slows down leaning into her, dragging the motion out so that when he kisses her again she’s smiling a little into the kiss.

Betty’s hands slide down his sides and she tucks her fingers in between his jeans and his hips.

They’re barely even touching and the crazy spun out slowness of what they’re doing twists up how much he wants her tighter and tighter. He thinks he might crawl out of his skin with this frustrated, banked down desire that’s amazing and terrible all at once.

Jughead drops a hand to touch her breast through her sweater and opens his mouth over hers. Her tongue flicks over his lower lip like she knows what he wants but is going to give it to him one piece at a time. And she does bit by bit until at last he’s got her tongue in his mouth and his hand under her shirt and he needs her to not be wearing so many clothes.

He pulls back, skims his hand down the hard curve of her ribs to the edge of her sweater and raises his eyebrows. At her nod he strips off both layers, sweater and cami, and gets his mouth on the soft, warm swell of her breast just above where her bras always cut in a little.

He hears, “Bed. Bed, Juggie, c’mon.” Her voice is pitched so low, rough with how turned on she is, and the sound is like getting kicked in the chest. He wants to scoop her up, his hands under her thighs, her breasts pressed up tight against him, but he remembers her flinch in the kitchen and grabs her hand instead, pulling her back towards his bedroom.

She backs him up against the open door, her lips and then teeth against his jaw, making him lift his chin up for her so she can suck a mark onto his neck. She works at his fly, fumbling because she won’t step away far enough to manage the button on the first go.

He wants her naked—bra, jeans, shoes, panties, all of it. He unclasps and drops her bra, cups both her breasts, pressing in on her nipples because that makes her shoulders draw back and her spine arch.

She uses one foot to push down the stuck leg of her jeans, turning slightly. He sucks in a breath between closed teeth. Dark patches of bruising run from the point of her hip all the way down her right thigh.

Betty kicks her jeans to the side. “It looks worse than it is.”

“You keep saying that,” he reminds her as his hand hovers over her right hip. He settles the pads of his fingers against her black-and-purple skin but she doesn’t tense or flinch. “Don’t let me hurt you.”

Her eyebrows pull together at that.

Betty slides her hands over his stomach and goes up on her toes to press a slow, careful kiss against his mouth.

When she steps back, she nods towards the floor lamp, wanting the lights off. She’s only let him try a few times with more light and each time she’s had trouble coming. He wants to turn on every light in the room, in the whole fucking trailer, to see her spread out naked for him. He can’t understand how she could look like this and find anything to feel self-conscious about. But he reaches over and kills the floor lamp before twisting on the tiny bedside reading light with the dimmer bulb on low.

Jughead sits next to her on the bed and traces his hand up her arm to her shoulder, letting his eyes adjust to the glow of the dialed-back lamp and the fainter light from outside that curls in yellow streaks around the edges of the curtains.

He pulls a condom out from the box tucked under the bed frame and he leaves it on the edge of the bedside table, mostly to reassure her before she has to ask. He kisses her as she sinks onto her elbows, following her down until he’s braced over her and she's lying back on his faded blue-gray sheets.

He takes her in: her pink nipples and pale skin, blonde wavy hair spread out around her face and that gorgeous mouth that he wants to kiss and fuck and have touching his body however she wants and—

She twists and reaches for the side table. The motion creates an amazing dip-flare-curve of her waist to her hip to her ass.

She tears open the packet and rolls the condom on him.

Betty’s hands settle on his hips. Her knees spread for him. And he’s got to kiss her as he leans his weight on one arm and gets between her thighs. He slides his other hand down over her stomach.

Betty shivers under him.

Jesus fucking Christ, he thinks.

He wants to last, to make this so, so good for her. He wants to feel her arch up as her body tightens and flutters around him. But it's been a long goddamn month and he misremembered how unreal getting inside her is, that hot tight slide, how soft and small and strong she feels under him.

Her legs shift up higher around his waist. Her hand cups the back of his neck and her mouth opens for a blur of messy kisses until she’s so far gone all she can do is press her mouth near his. That cut-off edge of a whine creeps into her breathing on the exhales. Her eyes keep fluttering close when he gets the angle just right only to blink back open to watch his face.

And that’s it. He just can't, can’t slow down or hold back. He gets so deep into her, forehead pressed against her cheek, and everything slams through him all at once. He feels, horribly, almost like crying as Betty presses a line of kisses along his temple while her palms smooth up and down his back.

He pulls himself together at least enough to stop shaking while he ties off and tosses the condom, then gets her off with his fingers curled up into her and his thumb on her clit and his tongue in her mouth. He drags one long kiss along her jaw and presses his mouth against the sensitive skin under her chin when she bows up off the bed for him, flushed and lovely and somehow still his.

He leaves his fingers curled inside her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her face, until she nudges him back with a hand on his chest and a funny little lick across his lips that he thinks she expected him to dart back from. But hell, whatever. She can lick him for all he cares.

They pull apart. He wipes his hand on the sheets he’ll have to wash anyway. When she gets up to use the bathroom, her bruised side is a livid smear of deeper color even in the dim room and the shape imprints on his slow, sex-dazed brain like the lingering afterimage of a camera flash in the dark.

Betty slips back under the covers and curls up against him, in his bed, wrapped up in his arms. He can’t bear to put words to the raw mess that opens up inside his chest as he falls asleep pressed close to her again.

  His dreams are strange, but not unhappy.

When he blinks his eyes open, all he’s left with is a jumble of fragmented images that get lost in the morning half-light.

Betty’s palm is fitted against his arm just above his elbow. She’s sitting up with his other pillow between her back and the wall, reading a dog-eared Sam Shepard anthology—The Unseen Hand and Other Plays. He doesn’t know if it’s hers or a library copy.

Betty is wearing the same pale blue sweater as yesterday but has her legs tucked under the blankets for warmth. He watches as she props the spine of the book against her knee and painstakingly turns a page with her thumb.

Under the covers, he slides his hand over to touch the backs of his fingers to the smooth, warm skin of her hip where the line of her panties cuts high up, skimming over the darkest part of the mostly purple bruises.

She blinks and glances down at him, so fucking beautiful with her messy hair and bare face. In the hazy morning light, she looks as soft-edged and irrecoverable as a happy memory.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

He yawns. “Morning.”

She bends down and kisses the corner of his mouth. “You can sleep some more, if you want.”

What he’d like is to make up for last night, maybe even go down on her if she’d let him, but he’s not picking up that vibe from her at all. She seems calm and content. So he shifts forward and presses his face into her side, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin material of her tight sweater, and drifts in and out for a while with her hand slowly moving through his hair.

   They get up around ten, since that’s as late as Betty can stay in bed—a solid hour more than he was expecting.

He dumps grounds and water into the coffeemaker on autopilot.

Leaning her unbruised hip against the counter, Betty tugs the sleeves of her sweater further down over her palms and presses her fingers into the fabric rather than her skin. Her knuckles don’t turn white.

He divides his attention between the coffee brewing and Betty’s loosely closed fists.

Jughead puts one spoonful of sugar in Betty’s coffee and leans over to kiss her with all the aching, torn up softness he’s got left before passing her the mug.

“So.” He pulls back and turns to get his own cup of coffee. “I’ve got eggs or cereal. Without milk.”

He's eaten breakfast at the Coopers often enough, those huge plates of pancakes and bacon and breakfast potatoes served out on complicated matching sets of dishes, to brace himself against the flash of shame that heats the back of his neck. The kitchen around him feels abruptly so alien and he’s hit with the memory of that left-out food and rotting dishes smell from visits over the summer when his dad had hit rock bottom again.

He blinks and the memory vanishes. The kitchen is clean, has been for months now.

“I’ll do eggs, you do toast?” Betty offers.

In the light falling through the gauzy curtains, Betty’s hair glows with that cinematic Grace Kelly magic as she peers into the fridge. He wants to wrap his arms around her and press his face into the long curve of her neck.

“Sure,” he says and reaches for the loaf of Wonder bread.

It’s not really a very equitable division of labor as Jughead puts bread in the toaster but doesn’t push the lever down yet. He slumps back against the counter with his coffee to watch Betty stir the eggs, looking so just like herself in the old blue sweater, tight jeans and ponytail that her bare feet stand out with a vivid underscore.

Timing the toast just right flips into a kind of game as he lets his finger hover above the lever. He takes his best guess.

Betty scrapes the eggs onto two plates and sets the pan in the sink to soak. A moment later the toaster dings.

Close enough.

They eat at the table, his back to the door.

“My parents aren’t at a conference,” Betty says out of nowhere.

He looks up. Betty is frowning and running her thumb along the handle of her fork. The stamped metal silverware has sharply defined edges and she’s pressing hard enough to turn her skin white. He touches the back of her hand and laces their fingers together so that their joints form an interlocking row.

Jughead watches her face and waits.

At last, Betty laughs, a hard, unhappy sound. “There just aren’t that many journalistic retreats in Rockland County, Jug. I think it’s become a sort of dare to her, a game of chicken, how crazy of a retreat she can come up with.”

“You know where they really went?”

Betty shakes her head and squeezes his fingers before pulling her hand away. He goes back to eating while she pushes her eggs around on her plate.

Betty swaps their plates as soon as he’s finished and he eats most of her breakfast, too.

Waste not, want not as his mom used to say with that lost, angry look in her eyes.

He washes the plates and egg pan while Betty showers. He probably should, too, once she’s done.

He isn’t going to. He doesn’t even bother to call himself out on why. He pulls on a clean sweater and jeans with ripped out knees that make Betty’s eyes drift down with the occasional distracted glance as she bites her lower lip. He doesn't know if it’s just the look or if the torn fabric makes her think of what he’d get down on his knees to do for her.

The shower cuts off.

   “Want to watch a movie?” Betty asks from the living room. She’s already got his laptop on the coffee table with the power cord plugged behind the couch.

She knows he’s going to say, “Yes.” What she may not know is that he’s going to spend a good ten minutes kissing her first with her settled warm and close in his lap.

He pulls away enough to stare up at her but leaves his hands spread out along her lower back under her shirt. Betty plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So what’s the shortlist, Film Snob?”

You pick three, I choose. He can’t even remember when that became their movie thing.

He thinks of that dog-eared copy of Sam Shepard, of Betty turning the page with one hand. How her wrist pressed against the open page to pin the book in place. How he briefly lost all this.

“Okay. Blade Runner, Maltese Falcon or Chinatown?”

Betty tilts her head and her eyes go a little unfocused as she weighs the options.

With a shrug she says, “Chinatown,” and shifts off his lap to curl up against his side as he reaches for his computer.

   Roman Polanski may be a piece of shit but Jughead can’t bring himself to stop loving this movie.

   Halfway through, Betty takes his hand. As she skims the tips of her fingers along the side of his thumb, her gaze catches on the series of bad, mostly-healed cuts. But she presses her lips together in a tight line and looks back at Jack Nicolson driving through the claustrophobic Hitchcockian orange groves with that ugly white bandage on his nose.

“Betty. Ask me.”

Her eyebrows shoot up and she turns towards him, gazing up at him with those huge, sucker-punch eyes. She doesn't say anything for a beat, like she’s waiting to see if he’ll snatch the words back.

Her eyes drift over his face before she says, “How’d it happen?”

“I had to knock glass out of a broken window. Wrapping your hand in a shirt works a lot better in the movies.”

Her thumb slides just below the deepest cut. “Most things do.”

The wry twist to her voice makes his chest contract with a ripple of unexpected laughter.

“Why were you knocking glass out of a window, Juggie?”

He goes still.

You don’t get do-overs. Jughead knows this. But you can fuck the same thing up over and over and over again until there’s nothing left for you to love or fuck up or even walk away from.

“‘Cause that was the safest way out. Ghoulies were upstairs. We—” He forces himself past the pause. “Sweet Pea, Toni and I were snooping around somewhere. We didn’t want to get caught.”

Betty nods once. He braces himself for more questions—for his stubborn, ruthless Betty to pull the whole story out of him. But all she says is, “I’m glad you got out all right.”

After so long evading first her questions and then more and more often evading her, he shouldn’t feel this sour rush of disappointment when she lets the rest go that easily.

On the laptop screen, Jack Nicholson is knocked out and there’s no objective, god’s-eye view. He’s knocked out and takes the audience with him as the camera fades to black.

   The movie lurches through its flurry of final revelations that go nowhere and hurt the wrong people as the powers that be churn indifferently forward.

  The credits blur past.

“Want to watch another?” Betty asks, sitting up to stretch out her spine in a rolling curve.

He kisses the high point of her shoulder and thinks, Man up and take the chance. Moving slow enough to telegraph his intent, so she can stop him without forcing her to make a big deal out of it, he shifts forward and kneels in front of her. He tugs her to the edge of the couch with his hands cupped behind her knees, watching her face to see if she’ll go for this or if she’ll turn him down.

A dark pink blush spreads over her cheeks and across her forehead. Her eyes go wide but she doesn’t look away or tense up or ask him to stop.

   They have sex on the floor in front of the couch because he was feeling lucky enough to slip a condom into his back pocket.

The come down lingers. Sunlight slants in through the gaps where the curtains aren’t drawn together. His knees ache a little from the carpet and his forehead rests on Betty’s shoulder. Her hands can be so gentle sometimes that he short-circuits and all this hurts.

Betty draws his face up and kisses him like she wants him again even though he hasn’t even pulled out of her yet.

He deals with the condom and they stumble towards the bedroom, only to get hung up kissing in the kitchen because Betty sitting on the table puts their mouths at just the same level.

Back in his room, she shoves him down on the bed and they fuck again. He falls asleep with his face pressed against Betty’s neck as she traces meandering lines along the arm he’s wrapped tight around her waist.

  A little after four, Betty repacks her small pink gym bag, including the toothbrush, because the world is heartless and requires that she do things beyond have sex in this trailer.

Jughead leans his shoulder against the narrow span of wall next to the front door and stares at Betty's mouth, glancing up to catch the soft, bright look in her eyes, and waits for Betty to kiss him.

Her fingertips land against his cheek. He leans forward into her touch.

[ghostsandwhiskey]

@splatteredfingers

    The event invitation had said “semi-formal”. Théo has never had any idea what that meant. (“It means, don’t look like garbage.” Nat had emphasized, with an exasperated tone. Then added quickly, “And for fuck’s sake, don’t bust out the Canadian tuxedo.”) Wait. Did he normally look like garbage? And what was wrong with wearing an outfit made of the sturdiest fabric around?

    So he meets his sister halfway, and wears something that isn’t stained with engine grease, and doesn’t consist entirely of denim (even though he doesn’t know why it should matter, because everyone was going to be looking at the paintings anyway).

    It’s a small gallery. Théo is happy to note that there’s a decent amount of alcoves and partitions to hide behind, should he suddenly feel the need to take a break from people. Not that he knows anyone here. Nat is making the rounds with a glass of champagne in hand, and it’s apparent that she knows damn near everyone. Or at least it had always seemed that way with how effortlessly social she was.

    Théo hasn’t touched his glass, but he still holds it, as he didn’t really have time to refuse it before the server rushed away. Champagne is not his jam, but he feels like it might be for people who have money. Not that he has anything against them. He hopes the whole gallery will be bought up, since the money’s going to charity. He’d have to be some kind of monster to hold their dollars against them when they might help someone out.

    He can see a pocket of people making their way towards his area of the gallery, and decides he needs a new hiding place.

    In a quieter hallway, then.  Large canvases hang with soft lighting on them. Théo is unnerved by their realism, the stark wetness of bright eyes, the reflection of glass. He’s never known how to appreciate art, to be honest. He doesn’t know techniques or art history. But he can’t tear his eyes away from the pieces. The skin looks like a photograph, and for a moment he leans in close to check. But it’s paint, all right. He bends slightly to look at the artist’s name.

   Daxton Rogers. Acrylic on Canvas.

    Théo makes what feels like eye contact with one of the paintings. The woman in the piece stares at him with accusing eyes. There is something frightening about how real she looks. He takes a step backwards, right into another man, spills his champagne down the front of his own shirt and curses quietly under his breath. “…Sorry.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello Steph! First, thank you for everything you do for this fandom!! I don’t know what we would do without you!! ♥️ I am looking to start my first novel length Johnlock fic. I found your list, and was wondering if you had a specific one to recommend to start off with? I’m looking for something that won’t make me too sad (the world does that on its own), and of course, lots of Johnlock!! Any recommendations would be appreciated, thank you!! Sending love!! *hugs*

HI NONNY!

Hmm, this is tough, because Novel Length is anything over 50K words, but some people don’t want to read “novels that short”. So I get a lot of requests for Epic novels over 100K, so like WOOO HOO LOL.

Hmm. How about I give you a few recs varying lengths, based on your requirements, and you can decide how long you want to go, since I list all my word counts on my recs?

First off, for when you become obsessed with the lengthy fics like I am now LOL:

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 3 [MFL’s] (Dec 2020)

Next, here’s something for each range between 50 and 100K+ <3

BUT BEFORE I BEGIN: honourable mention because it IS my fave fic ever, and it fits your criteria minus the length so SORRY but please check it out:

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

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Okay, now the main event, of more-fluff-than-angst:

NOVEL LENGTH NOT-SO-ANGSTY FICS FOR NEWBIES

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w., 14 Ch. || Rich Holmeses AU || First Kiss / Time, Holmes Family, Virgin Sherlock, Anal, First Meetings, Bossy Bottomlock) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family's private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it's time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Post-TRF, Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasm Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Prostate Massage, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging, Internalized Homophobia, Case as Foreplay, Anal Beads, Tickling, Dancing, Dry Coming, Romance) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Cheeking, Double Penetration, Mild Kink, Porn Watching, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

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Hope you enjoy those!!! <3 PLEASE read them all, though, and THEN READ ALL THE ONES ON THOSE LISTS. Because once you start long fics, you get REALLY INTO THEM. Hah hah <3

[straykatfish]

This final A1 piece in acrylics came about following an exploration of ways in which the sea is represented in art. I ran a search via Google images and then scrolled through the results, settling on only the images that caught my eye. I wanted images that were visually impactful and as my knowledge of art and artists is still very limited, it seemed to me that this might introduce me to and pique my interest in work I wouldn’t otherwise have noticed.

In the end, the pieces that drew my eye were largely by artists I knew of but only really from a distance. This time I had been drawn in by their work and not their name or reputation. They also, very conveniently, came from different time periods and different artistic traditions. I printed out copies of each and then made drawings from them in different media, which inevitably meant interpretation as this, and my own developing style, impacted on the copies.

First was The Great Wave (1829-1833) by Katsushika Hokusai, a Japanese artist working largely in wood block and print. The result is a very formal and stylised image. I copied this using soft pastels, changing the background to black and omitting the boats drawn up into the wave so as to focus as much as possible on the construction of the wave itself. Hokusai makes tendrils of the foam and fixes the water in position so that, in effect, it’s no less solid than Mount Fuji in the distance. I liked the drama of that and the sense of power it evokes, despite its being static.

Next I looked at what I then discovered was Turner’s Fishermen on a Lee-shore, (1802), an acknowledged masterpiece of grandeur and drama. This was a daunting piece to copy and it felt presumptuous to attempt it. Again, this is soft pastels in an A5 sketchbook and I felt pleased by the way my rendering of some of the elements turned out. I like the motion and the effect of blending and how, without realising how I did it, the marks that form the tumbling foam in the foreground seem to work.

The third piece was Paul Klee’s Golden Fish (1925). The colours deceived me into thinking this was by Kandinsky so I was surprised to find it wasn’t. Klee’s image is almost naive and childlike, a semi-stylised piece that verges on abstract in that realism is barely described. I used soft pastels again for this copy and made the image on black gesso. I like the colourful representations of the fish and the merest suggestion of the surrounding element – water. It was fun to do.

Finally, I took on one of Maggi Hambling’s series of hugely energetic gestural pieces (circa 2012) describing waves, most of which are in portrait orientation and towering so that the impact of power comes across without any further context. Hambling makes broad marks in an expressive style that speaks of the essence of a wave rather than its objective anatomy. I like the way she incorporates unexpected colours into the water, maybe reflecting the way droplets act as prisms to fracture white light; but maybe not. My copy is in soft pastels which are also quite large – especially on A5 paper – and tries to home in on that expression.

My first intention was to make larger versions of these and to weave into them text relevant to the period in which they were made. I had seen typographic art in galleries in Brighton earlier and liked the idea. Later though, I was drawn back to a poem by Marianne Moore called The Steeplejack (c 1930s) which I’d drawn before starting the course and thought to return to that.

After completing the A1 piece, I did return to it and made a series of images owing something to each of the artists, with accompanying text from a particular stanza speculating on how Durer would have liked to ‘live in a town like this, with eight stranded whales to look at’. This is on A3 hot pressed watercolour support; each image is drawn directly onto it and the surrounding colour is black gesso with outlines of white conte.

The ‘D’ of Durer is made by a great wave after Hambling; and the stranded whales wearing lettering spelling that out, is black ink on white gesso with deliberate spaces left between them to emphasise their edges as a Hokusai woodblock might. Beneath is blended soft pastel representing the ‘sweet air’ (after Turner), and last is Klee’s golden fish accompanied by text that describes the water as being ‘etched with waves as formal as the scales on a fish’. Ideally, I would have used letraset for the text but had to resort to handwritten and typed text which I don’t consider ideal. As I have no capacity for calligraphy or even well-controlled handwriting, this remains an exercise until a better way of handling the imagery occurs to me. Also, I’m still quite fond of my pre-course drawing based on this poem and that is interfering with progressing the new way of looking at it.

In the meantime I made a series of drawings and paintings based not on the original art works I’d chosen but on similar real-world photographs which seemed to lend themselves to my chosen styles.

The whales. This is from a photograph attributed to ***

The great wave: this one from a representative photograph attributed to *** – as no one was there for the actual incident – of the largest wave ever recorded in the north Atlantic (2012).

I began to put these into a composition, first as separate images in a sequence reflecting the stylised through to the expressive, and then as part of one whole piece with quite explicit reference to Hokusai’s and Hambling’s waves, Turner’s blending around the whales, and a couple of red fish nodding towards Klee. The bottom image shows in more detail both the formalised structure of the Hokusai wave and also begins to reference a more modern notion of structure drawn from 3D computer modelling when I discovered that one of my reference whales was in fact an animated construct. The red lines represent the wire frame stage of the animation process. Also in this image is my Fibonacci layout, something that had come up while observing NASA engineers in the Mars rover live lab as they inadvertently one day fell into exactly a classical golden ratio tableau. I drew this out in orange conte to find where the focus should be and it was clearly not there.

This led to a further composition which moved the whales closer to the wave and eventually dispensed with both the stylised wave and the additional whale although I retained the red lines for a while and used dots of orange to hint at Klee’s fish.

I tried also using portrait orientation as had Hambling because at one point it seems that the expanse of dark sea and sky to the left was draining the energy from the elements on the right. This is made in inks, oil pastels, and coloured conte on a black gesso ground and while I like the effect of rubbing and scraping at the surfaces to reveal the colours in the layers beneath, I’m not wild about the composition or the rather insubstantial feel of the media I’ve used so I returned to acrylics.

This required yet another iteration of the basic composition and, after checking again both onscreen and on the easel from a distance where the focus needed to be, I printed and  cut out multiples of the feeding whales to position under the wave and determine how many and where they should go. This led to the final composition as shown beneath.

Unfortunately, I could find no way of eliminating reflection of light on the black gesso and moving the camera closer led to the black being rendered as grey by the digital algorithm. The better shot is at the top of this post but from a distance. It can be zoomed for detail. Here, I want to describe something of what remains of the artists whose work brought me to this point. For me, Hambling’s expressiveness dominates the wave structure and contains small patches of colour which reflect her style and also a little of Klee’s golden fish. Some parts of the foam are more stylised than others where I manipulated a stylus in the wet acrylic to make curls in the edges, then further down is a very clear-cut edge to a rising component of the wave, marking with a thin line of turquoise the foreground water from the central melee of the whales. This is the Hokusai influence. I have used blending – by finger – on the foam in the large wave and also in the turbulence around the whales where the behaviour of the water reminded me of the waves in Turner’s piece.

As additional notes, there are two small patches of dark red wash in the black area to the left which I’ve intended as both an indication that this is a ‘live’ area (sky) and not simply one that hasn’t been addressed. The colour reflects those in Klee’s painting. Then finally I’ve placed a dot of orange in the sweep of the wave just between its base and the whales to both reflect again Klee’s fish and also to pinpoint what, to my eye, is the centre point of the Fibonacci spiral.

I have learned a great deal in the making of this piece. First that copying great works needn’t be intimidating and doing so delivers ideas and motor skills subliminally. Second, that repetition (up to a point – I do become very tired of seeing some things after a while!) improves those motor skills as these are refined from many stiff movements to one or two large swift ones. And thirdly, that innovation is born of practice and looking, listening and feeling. I’ve used music quite often throughout this work, in particular the score for the ballet Woolf Works by Max Richter (2017) which describes the tormented life and tragic demise of Virginia Woolf. The final scene is danced before an enormous monochrome sea moving in the slowest of slow motions. I’ve also made audio and video clips of the waves crashing onto the beach at Lancing and used these too to keep the sense of power and fluidity in mind. Most of all though, I’ve had at the front of my thinking the terrible losses we’ll experience if we fail to protect our oceans, our wildlife, and our planet. This is not a political message piece, but for me the subtext certainly is.

Woolf Works, Ballet performed by the Royal Ballet, score by Max Richter. 2017.

Paul Klee, The Golden (or Gold) Fish. (1925).

J.M.W. Turner, Fishermen on a Lee Shore in Squally Weather (1802).

Maggi Hambling, Bold Breaking Waves. (c 2012).

Katsushika Hokusai, The Great Wave off Kanagawa. (1829-1833).

All sites last accessed 18/01/2020.

  NB I may edit this post prior to submission, but will not do so subsequently. 

Part 5 – personal project submission This final A1 piece in acrylics came about following an exploration of ways in which the sea is represented in art.

[avaquet]

A.N.D.R.O.M.E.D.A. Chapter 1

Prologue (Before the Storm)

Summary of fic:

"Adventures Night and Day, Roaming Over Miles, Exciting Discoveries Alight."

This is going to be an extremely long fic following my OC Sara Talia Ryder through her adventures in Andromeda. It does follow closely to realism and canon along with many different Headcanons. FPOV. It follows a lot of what happens in the game, but with a lot more 'meat' to it, and the things that happen between the loading screens or travel time. I do have proof readers but feel free to comment a critique or something that stood out, or anything that you liked!

Feel free to follow the journey of Sara Ryder!

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882625

2185, Luna.

I packed my personal crate with only a few items. The weight limit was strict, but some things can be overlooked being a part of the Pathfinder crew. My dad, Alec Ryder is the human Pathfinder for Ark Hyperion. About 20,000 people signed up for the Andromeda Initiative, and I am one of them. My twin brother, Scott, is also a part of the Pathfinder crew. We will all be meeting at the Luna shuttles soon. Today is the day. My final hours in the Milky Way galaxy before a frozen sleep. I've paced the room many times, fidgeting, and overthinking. As much as I love the adventure and exploration at my feet, I'm leaving everything behind.

I checked my packing list over and over again. Many memories I need to keep. A new multi-purpose journal that I handcrafted specifically for this journey. Along with a handmade scrapbook or photo album six pages long, or ten front and back with two covers. These are items that won't count against my weight limit because I told the authorities of the Initiative that it is for documentation. Items that do count include: an explosion paper box, extra clothes, headphones, art supplies, a necklace dedicated to my cat, Echo, and my alto saxophone. I could've carried a lot more if I didn't take the instrument, but my alto has helped me through many difficult times in my life. Been playing her for over ten years, ever since middle school.

Everything is in place and ready to go. I'm going to be fine, it's all going to be fine. I headed out the main lobby to the shuttle launch pad. The P.A. reminding everyone that as a safety precaution to put on a helmet, which requires armor. I slipped into both.

"Name and date of birth, please." A man standing at the security center stopped me.

"Sara Talia Ryder. 21st of March, 2163."

"Pathfinder team? You're assigned to the priority shuttle. We've been waiting on you." Another man took my crate and headed toward the loading bay.

"I'm that late, huh?"

"Not too late. The rest of the team is already on the shuttle."

I walked with him. "My dad included?"

"Pathfinder Ryder was already aboard the Hyperion before anyone else had arrived."

Great. Dad isn't even going to tell us good luck or something. "Ah."

"Alright. This is your shuttle. When you get on, I'll tell the pilot to take you all away."

"Thank you."

"Good luck, Ryder."

"You, too."

I stepped onto the shuttle and was greeted with a clunky hug from Scott. "Thought you bailed on us."

"Nah, adventure of a lifetime, remember?" I took my seat next to him. The shuttle was full of other people, helmets hiding their faces. I could tell one was a female, and she wasn't wearing as heavy as a suit as everyone else. Probably swift in battle.

"You'd think they'd at least give us better looking gear." He threw his hands up.

The shuttle took off. A slight jolt from the liftoff and we're in space. "It's their colors. White and blue."

"Yeah, but, too much white, you know?"

The female I noticed earlier stood up and walked over to us. "Ryder? Or should I say Ryder twins? Cora Harper."

We shook her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Cora. I think I've heard your name a couple of times." I readjusted in my seat.

"Your father went on many journeys with me. I'm his second in command."

"Oh." Scott slumped.

"So, Cora, you excited?"

"Oh, definitely. You?"

"Nervous."

"Hey, come look outside. Might calm you down. Nice beautiful view of Earth."

Scott and I follow Cora over to the window, slightly tinted from our helmets. Other people on the shuttle moved closer to the window to get one last view.

A blue and green planet. Sprinkled and swirled with white. All against a black background with some glitter. This is the last time, my last view, of my homeworld, and then it's no longer home. 2.5 million lightyears away on Habitat 7 will be home. 600 years our biological clocks will be frozen as we venture out. Mom. My lips quivered. Suddenly, my view of Earth was solemn. Grief. A minor chord plays in the back of my head against the black and blue view.

"I miss Mom." I whispered out.

"Me too, sis. Me too."

Cora looked over at us. "Your dad told me that she died not too long ago. She'd be proud of both of you for making this journey."

"Thanks. And I hope so." I answered back. Silent and hidden tears rolled down my face, painted with loving memories. This will be a new start. A chance to start over in life. Wake up with a schedule and an organized life for once. My chin held up high. Mysteries to explore. New sights and sounds to associate with. A new song, a new painting, a new book.A quivered smile ran across my face.

The rest of the journey was silent. Thoughts clouded the air as Earth disappeared from view when we docked into the Ark. We all slumped to different armor lockers to take off our armor. All of us were in the same attire. White long sleeved shirt and pants with the AI Andromeda Initiative logo and a light blue as a secondary color. Except Cora, her colors were backwards on her.

A scientist helped us find our designated cryo bay, which also functioned as a medical bay. The closer we got to those cryo pods, the more my heart sped up. I felt slight tremors throughout my body. There was a giant hologram screen at the back of the med bay before the turn into the cryo room, sifting through different pictures of the worlds that await us. Seven golden worlds. Seven plans. The pictures ranged from tropical, to deserts, to highlands, and more. Beautiful views.

"Hey, sis."

"Huh?"

"You may want to take out your pony tail or it might get uncomfortable."

"Oh, right."

As we turned into the room with all the pods, I let loose my hair, feeling the freedom of movement against my shoulders. The room was chilly, long, and tall. Pods everywhere. The scientist divided us up into groups, Scott and I together, and the rest were away at different sections of the room. Scott and I were placed in the very back of the room next to the big circular logo that said Cryogenics on it. Two pods were summoned down and lingered in front of us while the scientist checked our vitals.

"Nervous you two? Don't worry. We all are. A team of engineers and scientists checked multiple times the ship and the pods. Don't worry, this part is safe." He pats us on the back.

"So, Scott."

"Sara."

"See you in a few hundred years?"

"You better."

He gave me a tight hug before we stepped into the pod. The inside was cold and frosty. There was a little window for me to look out of as the door closed. I leaned back up against the stiff cushions, feeling my heart pound in my chest. I grip onto the cushions and tried to take slower breaths, but the worry of things going wrong whilst I was asleep, or if something bad were to happen to Scott or Dad, kept my breathing rapid. It'll be fine. And hey, if we do die while in cryo, we wouldn't feel a thing. The scientist gave me a thumbs up before walking away and things started to become hazy and slow. Slower, hazier, darker, colder-

Silence.

Author's Note:

This was originally just going to be a private fic, but with support of friends and the recent events to fall upon BioWare and Andromeda, I have decided to do a public upload of this. Original characters are not a full self-insert but inspired by a lot of things that I do or have happened to me. A lot of things will be taken directly from BioWare's Mass Effect: Andromeda, all rights belong to them.

[phezopage]

Porsche 919 Hybrid Race Car Review: The Ultimate Harmony of Gas and Electric

I’m nearly flat on my back, buckled in, knees up, feet on the two pedals, staring at a dazzling array of switches, knobs, buttons, and dash display. In the unlikely event that the green light located to the upper right ever turns red and I must exit this vehicle post haste, I’m instructed to do the “hybrid long jump” from car to ground, lest I ground the chassis and be instantly fricasseed by a zillion volts of potential energy.

The very team that won the 24 Hours of Le Mans for three years straight is rolling me out of the garage and onto pit lane in one of the same mega-million-dollar marvels from those historic events: the Le Mans Prototype 1 Porsche 919 Hybrid.

The 919 Hybrid makes twice the power and twice the downforce of the used-to-feel-fast 911 GT cars I’m used to, at maybe 25 times the price.

Inches behind my head is a smallish 2.0-liter turbo V-4 delivering a largish 500 horsepower to the rear Michelin slicks. Ahead of me is an electric motor that variably adds up to 400 more horses to the front. Driving about 1,900 pounds of carbon fiber honeycomb and aluminum alloys … Do the math. About 80 percent of me is savoring the anticipation of the incredible opportunity to experience a close sibling of the fastest road racing car ever built. (We at Motor Trend are the only Americans of nine elite journalists invited to this event.) The other 20 percent of me wants my mommy. Don’t mess this up, I think quietly. Radio check, copy.

Car chief Olivier is 25 years younger than I, with a deadly serious countenance born of responsibility and professionalism. He calmly radios instructions to this skinny old dude he never met before, who is about to wheel his jewellike prize onto the Motorland Aragón circuit here in the Spanish countryside outside of Barcelona. Flat-out, should I so desire, he says. I so desire.

“Clutch in, start engine … pit speed limiter on … hold clutch, drive off on electric to 50 kph … slowly release clutch …”  Whhhappp-pa-pa-pa-poppp. The revs max out for a moment before the now-fried clutch thunks into engagement. Olivier told me to drive full-throttle on the pit limiter, but lordy, not when leaving the pit, I discover. Keep calm, carry on, all’s well.

Fortunately, we journalists had first been sent to train on the simulator at Porsche Motorsport, Weissach. The Werksfahrer use it to learn new tracks and refine their considerable skills. I was one once—a factory driver—by the way, but pre-sim. Porsche requires that I dress in full race gear for the sake of realism, and the simulator uses a genuine 919 tub. It is mounted high on four hydraulic rams and faces a surround screen with a realistic portrayal of the Motorland circuit.

Video games in my day ranged from Pong to Pac Man to Asteroids, but all these years I’ve driven real cars for fun, not computer-generated images. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I strap in, hoping to learn a bit about the circuit and the awesome racing machine but also a little leery of the coming Tilt-a-Whirl gyrations from the mechanical spider legs below.

I roll out of the virtual pit lane and follow the track, looking good. As speeds come up rapidly on the no-risk video display, so does the rate at which my stomach turns. The wraparound view swirls as I whip this thing into a corner, and my terra-firma brain protests through my tummy. The engineers graciously stop the hydraulic g-force imitations, and I bravely manage several more laps on static-seating video, until Turn 1 instigates a sudden gag reflex that almost gets away from me. “OK, got it, guys, thanks. Fresh air, please?”

On the actual track in Spain the next day, as I accelerate into the real Turn 1, I find that the video tutelage was very helpful. I have a nice head start on the track and the car’s otherworldly level of performance. The corners look very much the same, and my throttle settings and brake points work here in the real world, too. But the greatest benefit was that the simulator prepared me for the impossible cornering forces the 919 can generate. Like on the screen, I just put my foot down and keep pulling gears, brain squashed against the inside of my skull. With Motor Trend, I regularly test supercars that can easily top 1.0 g on the skidpad. Now try 3.4 g. It’s like living in a sped-up film. Ridiculous fake becomes shocking reality.

The steering is a yoke; round wheels are so passé. This is no drift car. Aero undertrays don’t work well sideways. Knobs under the central screen adjust the levels of traction control: front, rear, and connected. Two more knobs adjust boost (electric, in this case) and recup, or the level of regeneration. Four thumbwheels set entire car-system parameters, settings radioed in from a massive team of engineers in the pits and even back home in Weissach (another efficiency: less travel). In an effort to maintain driver involvement, regulations allow data telemetry from car to pit, but not the other way around. It’s old-school radio and of critical importance to winning.

Le Mans racing is all about efficiency, to increase its relevance and benefit to mankind. LMP1 racers are only allowed a set amount of energy per lap. Exceed it, and the car must slow to give it back in the next lap. So under braking, the hybrid system retrieves some of the energy that once accelerated the car (yes, like the Prius). One way the 919 does this is by “sailing.” With the oddest of sensations, the race car slows itself at the end of a long straight—of which there are several on an 8.0-mile lap of Le Mans—regenerating electric boost even before the driver brakes. It’s like a bungee cord stopping a free fall. This didn’t happen on the shorter stops.

Another fascinating innovation in efficiency is a why-didn’t-I-think-of-that addition to the 919’s turbo system. You’ve heard of a wastegate, right? It releases unneeded exhaust gases once your turbo has spooled up to your chosen boost level. Normally the exhaust is just piped around the turbo and into the atmosphere. Well, the brilliant Porsche scientists use that exhaust energy to drive a generator, sending the energy back into the liquid-cooled lithium-ion battery pack. They call it MGU-H, or motor generator unit—heat.  This way, the car now charges under braking (which supplies 60 percent of the regen) and acceleration (which supplies the other 40 percent). It’s much more clever in effect than in name.

Electric boost is what elevates this racer above the crowd, but to win the races, it must be used in the most efficient fashion. Where might extra power pay off the most? At the beginning of the straights. The sooner the car gets the speed boost, the longer it pays off. Thus, the 919 would utterly explode off the slower corners, with a thrilling sensation of compression all over the body, through the first couple of gears. Then once it gets up to speed (about 170 mph, in our case), the voltage shuts down. The mere 500 ponies from gas alone feel like crawling, by contrast. I saw about 288 kph on the dash (almost 180 mph). At Le Mans, the car did 206 mph. And the 919 Evo did 216 when it set the Spa record.

The Evo version is responsible for the ultimate lap record recently set at Spa by factory driver Neel Jani, famously outpacing Formula 1. For those of you not well-versed in Porsche vernacular, this is not the same 919 that obliterated the Nurburgring lap record. That “tribute” car is an Evo version, whereas this 919 is a LeMans car.

An engineer’s dream, this project unleashed the surly bonds of racing regulations and allowed the team to turn everything up to 11. Screw efficiency: Turn up the turbo boost (for 720 hp), ultra-energize the battery pack (to 440), max out the aero, and go for it. Michelin even built special tires to endure the crushing tire loads in Eau Rouge’s devastatingly fast uphill right. #worldbeater

Porsche bravely chose the highest voltage possible under the FIA WEC regulations. The 800-volt system is not coincidentally the same as the developing Mission E concept road car and required pioneering efforts in handling the surging electrons of that level, in cooling, storage, and connections, system wide.

And why a V-4, you might wonder, after the great tradition of boxer engines? Packaging and aerodynamics. With efficiency as king, Porsche chose the design using the FIA regulations for the category. The 90-degree V configuration leaves more room below for tunnels and diffuser. It also works better with just one turbo; it’s closer to the exhaust from both sides. Porsche tags it as a steep-standing boxer engine. So there, traditionalists. Porsche claims the four-cylinder creates less drag, and it’s oversquare and big bore, which allows for bigger valves. It’s all-aluminum and extremely compact. It’s direct-injected, and at 40 percent, the most efficient engine in Porsche history. It sounds like no four-banger you’ve ever heard, erupting to life with a raw, angry, gravelly tone that’s all business and demands respect. Next-gen 718, perhaps?

When I drove the 919 Hybrid, my greatest challenge was reaching beyond belief to neck-straining grip levels well above anything I had ever experienced. I worked hard to convince my foot to stay planted on the gas through the fast bits the way I had in the safe isolation of the simulator. That is, until I half-spun in the slower Turn 1 from too much entry speed combined with too-early throttle, the data showing it in the glaring light of truth. Downforce increases exponentially with speed, so one must adjust in second gear after being taunted to push harder by the incredible stick developed in fifth. And it’s the same with brake pressure: There’s monstrous initial pressure, then backing on the pedal as speed comes off when about to turn in.

Overall, driving such a successful and complex technological wonder is like having all your on-track prayers answered; it’s like being transported to a new dimension of performance. The 919 Hybrid showcased Porsche’s talents in the boiling cauldron of top-level racing competition, with cutting-edge developments that actually benefit its future products for street-driving consumers, in both high performance and energy efficiency. I call that a win, on track and on the street, especially for enthusiasts like us.

The post Porsche 919 Hybrid Race Car Review: The Ultimate Harmony of Gas and Electric appeared first on Motor Trend.

Porsche 919 Hybrid Race Car Review: The Ultimate Harmony of Gas and Electric published first on https://freemobilehackspage.tumblr.com

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