#sound engineering for beginners

[musitechnicformation]

Enroll in our Sound Engineering Course for Local Students and take the first step toward an exciting career in audio technology! Designed specifically for aspiring engineers, this course offers hands-on training in sound recording, mixing, and mastering. Learn from industry experts and gain the practical skills needed to thrive in music production, broadcasting, and live sound. Perfect for local students looking to break into the dynamic world of sound engineering.

[vagueconfusion]

You're getting a bass this weekend? Sick. What kind if you don't mind me asking?

It's pretty dependent on what ones are available at the store, I'd like to try to get one secondhand (some people say you feel closer to instruments you buy new? But for years I learned and played on a secondhand saxophone and loved the instrument dearly) so it depends on what's there and the price. Hopefully there's something in my price range because I'll need an amp too. I also, uh, have no clue how to play a bass, so I figure I'll start on an inexpensive-but-decent one and see how it goes from there?

I read up a bit and saw good things about some Squier Classic Vibe and Ibanez SR300 for beginners, Yamaha in general too. I'm not picky about the brand right now, I figure I'll get a more nuanced opinion as I learn and figure out what sound I want? One reason I want to go to the store is so I can try to get my hands on some to hear the sound of them, and choose from there.

[14dayswithyou]

How cutiesai made 14 Days With You

I've received quite a few requests in the past asking how I made 14DWY, what resources I used, how I organised my lore, etc. — so I figured I'd make one big post and share it with everyone else as well! It features a buuunch of helpful stuff I wish I'd known when I first made 14DWY, so hopefully this will help others too!

⚠ This is all copied & pasted from a Discord post I made back in early 2024! I'll also be adding to it over time, so feel free to check back every so often! ^^

What engine do I use?

14DWY uses the Ren'Py engine!

There are two preinstalled games (called "Tutorial" and "The Question") that give you a basic rundown on how to use the program!!

Zeil Learning's video called "Ren'py Tutorial For Beginners" is also a good place to start for those who have no idea where to begin with Ren'Py!

I also really recommend these Ren'Py resources:

Lemma Soft Forums

Ren'Py Discord server

Ren'Py subreddit

Zeil Learnings, ElaineDoesCoding, Visual Novel Design, and Ess Ren'Py Tutorials on YouTube

Searching through the "Ren'Py" tag on itch.io for community-made assets and resources (make sure to give credit if you use someone's asset(s))!

Feniks and Wattson offer some really helpful stuff!!

Not Ren'Py related, but helpful for creating a VN:

Obsidian and Notion for planning and worldbuilding

Visual Studio Code and Atom (comes preinstalled with Ren'Py iirc?) for scripting/coding

Pixabay and Pexels for royalty-free images and stock photos

DOVA-SYNDROME for music

Clip Studio Paint (paid) and Krita (free) for drawing

Toyhou.se to store your littol guys (If you need an invite code, I have over 300 to give away lmao ^^ Send in an ask to @cutiesigh if you'd like one!)

An itch.io account to upload your game for free and share it with others

General tips to keep in mind:

Make games for fun, not for fame. Too often, I see new developers create VNs with "trending tropes" because they see how successful it is and want the same level of popularity. As harsh as it sounds, this only makes your game feel hollow and superficial, and players will notice.

When using Ren'Py, it's better to have multiple .rpy files rather than putting everything into one large file!! It makes organising and finding things easier, and if something gets corrupted... at least you won't lose everything!

Plan everything beforehand, but give yourself room to expand and implement new ideas.

Start small and slowly expand over time. Don't start off with an overly ambitious project, as it can be disheartening when you put all this effort into something just for it not to gain any traction. Also, be grateful for your earliest supporters, as they're the ones who will lift your project off the ground!!

This is a personal preference, but I recommend starting off with itch.io as your main distribution platform. Most storefronts take a cut from your donations and revenue, and sites like Steam require a $100 fee just to publish your game on their platform. Itch is free, and you can even toggle off revenue sharing in your profile settings! (I like to keep it at 10% though, because I'm grateful for everything the site provides ♡)

If you ever need help with Ren'Py, you're always welcome to join the 14DWY Discord server and ping me in the help channel!

[suiana]

sorry guys i think I can't write fics anymore😢💔 there's no more creative juice in me😭🙏

lol just kidding😂😂😂 imagine being a nerd that doesn't know they're a nerd. well you don't have to imagine because you are one! haha!

and you're not those nerds that are like, smart in studies okay. well, you might be but for the sake of the plot you aren't. you're a nerd interested in other things. games, fictional characters, you get the gist.

anyway you fail a class. oopsies! your lecturer is really disappointed, flabbergasted even. how could you fail his class?

it's... a beginners class...

concerned, he requests his best student to tutor you. god, what would he do if you failed the final? his pay would be TOAST. thankfully for him, his star pupil seems more than eager to help. way too eager. a little weird but he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

enter yandere! golden boy.

star pupil, handsome face, sexy 6 pack, rich, passes all exams without studying, never suffered a day in his life, fucking perfect. literally. he was a genetically engineered baby. haha test tube baby 😂

his only flaw? he's so fucking obsessed with you that it's pathetic.

now, no one knows of it obviously. he's not dumb enough to show it to everyone. who do you think he is? he needs to keep up the reputation of being perfect you know? it really comes in handy when he needs people to... turn a blind eye to some of the things he does.

anyway, it sounds pretty normal right? the premise is simple, there's a cliche. loser and popular guy, we all know how this goes. popular guy actually loves loser for who they are and he noticed loser because of a common interest, he starts tutoring them, loser develops feelings because omg hot guy treating them like a decent person, loser falls for popular guy, they get together yada yada. and I'm going to be honest, I don't have any plot twist for this one. I'm being serious when i say my creative juices are running out.

except that doesn't happen and you don't fall for him 😂🙏 haha you thought 😜👍

why would you fall for your tutor? you've only met him once or twice before the first session. and even then, your mind is 101% on whatever weird thing you're fixating on at the moment. there's no space in your head to develop a crush on real people. especially one so out of your league?

you're a realistic person, you're not going to waste time on someone you so obviously know is going to reject you.

you know that.

you're not extraordinary. you're not hot. you're not rich. you're not good at anything, nothing at all. you're just... you. plain old you. average you.

simply you.

so what if he gives you smiles? so what if he's nice? he's not perfect for nothing. in the end, he probably would never look at you if not for the fact that he had been tasked with tutoring with you.

you know that.

because you're so painfully you. so boringly you that the most interesting thing about you is what you're interested in at the moment.

the social hierarchies are there for a reason. you're aware of them.

the rich date the rich, the beautiful stay beautiful, those in power get more powerful. and the boring...

well, they stick together.

at the bottom.

where they're destined to be. where you're destined to remain. and you're okay with it. you've come to terms with it long ago. this is reality after all. there is no marrying a rich man. the rich only marry the rich. no man will fall head over heels for some fucking loser that doesn't even bother to dress up. that's just how life is.

and unfortunately, the popular guy is not aware of such hierarchies. you know he's interested in you, somewhat. not love, definitely not. just some... sick twisted fantasy of his. oh look guys i bagged the loser and made them think i actually like them haha! gonna go break their heart now!

that's what you think at least.

popular guy here knows what he wants though. he can see it ever so clearly how much you want nothing to do with him. and he's going to have so much fun showing you the lengths he'll go to devote himself to you.

you think he's too high up for you? don't worry, he'll just fall from grace. all for you. just for you. heaven is too stuffy, maybe it'll be good to have his feet bleed a little.

you don't understand, he'll go through anything to understand the fraction of the life you're experiencing. life is hard, he knows. but does he? or is he just saying that?

does it really matter though?

you think you'd rather him just bully you at this point. the way he throws everything away like it's nothing is honestly scary. and even then, you still feel a power dynamic, a hierarchy.

he still holds all the power.

rich people never truly become poor. powerful people never truly lose all their power. the top always remain at the top. always.

just give in already. resisting him is futile. you know that, he knows that, everyone knows. so why do you continue to deny him the ultimate gift that is you?

but maybe... that's why he likes you. you're different. so similar but so different. and the chase is addictive.

like a drug he can't get enough of, you're the high he keeps seeking in his monotonous life. don't you love that? don't you want it? and it's all at the expense of him too, he's constantly degrading himself all for your attention that he barely gets. you like it, don't you?

he knows you do. which is precisely why he'll keep giving it to you.

he's the golden boy after all, and he'll continue to bleed gold for the loser that shines brightest under his care. safe where he can watch over you.

forever.

[mostlyghoestly]

Hey, I saw you were asking for ideas for a Motorheads fic. Maybe an enemies to lovers with Ray or something like that would be great. I hope you consider it 🙏

Burnout | Ray Young

Requested by: Anonymous

The garage reeked of gasoline, burnt rubber, and testosterone-soaked ego — in other words, it was exactly the kind of place you hated. Or, more specifically, it was exactly the kind of place Ray haunted like a smug, leather-clad ghost.

“Didn’t think you had the guts to show up after last week,” Ray drawled, leaning against his cherry-red ‘69 Chevelle like he owned the pavement it sat on. His hair was damp from the humid night air, curling against his temple, those grey-green eyes carrying that same infuriating glint they always did when he spotted you.

You scowled, shouldering your helmet bag and refusing to give him the satisfaction of a flinch. “Didn’t realize you were the one handing out permission slips now, Ray.”

The smirk that tugged at his lips made their stomach flip — and not in a way they’d ever admit out loud. Ray always looked like he was seconds away from saying something that would make you wanna slap him or kiss him, and you had spent too long pretending neither option crossed their mind. “You’re gonna eat asphalt tonight,” he promised, tapping the side of his car as he passed by. “Hope you brought something faster than that sad excuse for a Charger.”

Your fingers tightened around the strap of their bag. Ray had been a thorn in their side since they rolled into town six months ago, gunning for a spot in the underground street racing scene. From the first night — when your Charger had smoked him by a hair and he’d followed it up with a half-smile and a comment about beginner’s luck — they’d been locked in a relentless back and forth.

“You talk a big game for someone who’s lost to me twice,” You shot back.

“That was charity.”

“And this is me not giving a damn.” You shouldered past him, catching the faint scent of his cologne — something sharp, woodsy, and unfairly good. It lingered too long, like it always did.

The lineup for the night’s race was scrawled across the whiteboard by the cashier’s booth, and Y/N felt a satisfied jolt when they saw it.

Final heat: Ray vs. Y/N.

Of course. A low whistle sounded behind you. “Guess it’s our lucky night.”

“Your luck’s about to run out,” You muttered.

The first couple heats flew by in a blur of noise and color — a growl of engines, the acrid bite of tire smoke curling into the humid night. The crowd was thick, rowdy, and drunk on adrenaline and cheap beer. You hung back, watching, focusing, cataloging every curve of the asphalt and the shine of oil spots in the lamplight. It wasn’t just about speed out here. It was about knowing when to push, when to hold, and when to gamble everything on one sharp turn.

Ray, of course, treated every race like a game of chicken. The man was reckless in a way you could never decide if you loathed or secretly admired.

By the time their turn came, the crowd was buzzing, wordless tension stretching like a rubber band. Ray met you by the starting line, helmet tucked under one arm. His eyes lingered a little too long, gaze dropping from your face to your racing suit, then back up, like he was trying to memorize the way the dim garage lights hit your face.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asked, voice low, almost sincere.

You arched a brow. “Getting cold feet, asshole?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a second, the bravado cracked. There was something raw in his expression, something that made your pulse stutter.

“Never,” he murmured.

The starter raised his arm. Engines revved — a throaty chorus of defiance. The world narrowed to the strip ahead, the pulse in your ears, and the buzz in your chest that had nothing to do with the race and everything to do with the man at your side.

Then the flag dropped.

The Charger shot forward, tires shrieking as it gripped the asphalt. Your fingers clenched the wheel, every nerve ending alight. Ray’s Chevelle stayed neck and neck, the two cars weaving dangerously close. The crowd blurred to nothing, the night air a hot, sticky pressure against their skin. You took the first turn hard, drifting close enough to graze a cone. Ray was right there, matching them, reckless bastard, his car hugging the curve like it had a death wish.

“Come on,” You whispered to no one. Straightaway. Half a second ahead. Then the Chevelle surged forward, nosing ahead by a fender. You cursed under your breath, jaw clenched. You gunned it, engine roaring, adrenaline spiking as you caught him again, side by side, metal nearly kissing metal.

For a wild, unhinged moment, your eyes met through your side windows — Ray’s mouth open in a shout, sweat slicking his hair to his forehead, and that goddamn spark in his eyes like this was the only thing in the world worth living for.

Your stomach flipped. You pushed it, sliding into the final curve harder than they should’ve. The Charger fishtailed, barely correcting in time. Ray took the inside, cutting dangerously close — and for a split second, you swore you saw his gaze flick over, not with smugness, but with something sharp and worried.

Then the finish line. A blur of light, color, roaring sound. You didn’t even wait for the flag to drop. You knew. Ray had won. By a fraction. Afterward, the crowd swarmed them, cheering and jeering, someone shoving a drink into Ray’s hand. You stayed back, pulse still racing, trying to swallow the bitter taste of second place.

Ray found them anyway. “Hell of a run,” he said, coming up beside them, damp hair curling at the ends, face flushed with exertion. He nudged your shoulder with his. “Couldn’t let you win again.”

“Yeah, well,” You muttered. “Was feeling generous.”

Ray huffed a laugh. “Right.” A beat of silence stretched between them, weirdly charged.

“You ever gonna stop hating me?” Ray asked, voice lower now, losing some of its cocky edge.

You snorted. “Depends. You ever gonna stop acting like an arrogant dick?” He grinned, but it was softer now, the kind of grin that made Y/N’s stomach knot in frustrating, complicated ways.

“Not a chance,” he said. Then, quieter, “But maybe I’ve been a dick because you drive me a little crazy.” You blinked, thrown off-balance.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” they muttered, but it came out weaker than intended. Ray took a slow step closer. “Too late for that.” There was heat in the air, and not just from the cars. The kind of heat born from too many close calls, too many nights spent circling each other like twin storms. A history of fights that were just excuses to get close, races that felt more like foreplay. You swallowed hard. “Are we still enemies?”

His grin turned wicked. “We can be. If you’re into that.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move away. In fact, when Ray leaned in, something reckless in you tilted forward to meet him. The kiss was inevitable — messy, heated, teeth grazing, hands grabbing at racing suits and greasy shirts like they’d been dying to tear each other apart for months. The taste of adrenaline and cheap beer on Ray’s tongue, the scrape of his fingers against the back of your neck.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, Ray pressed his forehead to yours. “Next race,” he murmured, “I’m still gonna beat you.”

“Over my dead body,” You shot back.

Ray grinned. “Deal.” And somehow, it felt less like enemies and more like the start of something dangerously good.

[destroyndecay]

Teacher's Pet

Summary: You ask for a bit of help with your assignment. You end up getting some extra credit.

Genre: filthy smut hehe

Professor x Student!AU

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: i think college is corrupting me guys

You scowled and the rubric paper that had been placed in front of you twenty minutes ago. You sighed and put your head in your hands, leaning your elbows on the desk. Written in bright red ink in the top right corner:

65%.

Engineering had always been the career that you aspired to have. You felt that you were qualified for all of the other classes that the degree had required you to take, but you did not feel this way about your Beginner Woodworking class. The assignment was to make a simple tool caddy, but you could not get the hang of any of the simple techniques the class required you to use for projects. The walls weren't sanded correctly and the edges were jagged and uneven. It almost made you feel bad for the professor that had to meticulously grade it. 

The professor, Mr. Dixon, had been perplexing to you since the first class a couple weeks ago. He was dressed in a professional-looking gray polo, tucked into black dress pants and black glasses framing his face. His brunette hair was wavy and fell down to his shoulders, normally shaped into a loose man bun to get rid of the factor of it being a safety hazard. But, he juxtaposed his white-collar demeanor with a straight from Georgia southern drawl, complete with incorrect grammar and a heavy usage of the word “ain’t.” He taught the class like it was second nature, answering every question that came his way. 

But even with his calm nature, you still struggled. Not just with your low level of expertise, but with the way he looked at you during lectures. 

You were sure that you were just being naive, but you couldn’t help but notice the little side glances he gave you with a slight smirk that could get him any girl he wanted. This made you attentive to other things, like the way his bulging arms looked underneath the bright overhead lights of the workshop. The way he gestured to the whiteboard with veiny hands that looked to be twice the size of yours. The way his gravelly voice consistently sent shivers down your spine, and when he gives you praise for answering a question right in class, you thought about the comment all day, wondering what that praise would sound like in other scenarios. 

This is the reason why you had to hype yourself up to ask him for help. You felt a little embarrassed that it took you this long to simply ask your professor a question, but at least this was a night class and everyone else had gone home. So if you made a fool of yourself in front of your hot professor, you would only be a little mortified. 

You sighed to yourself and lifted your head up to look at his desk in the far left corner. He was dressed in the same pants and glasses from the first class, but instead of a polo, he sported a more casual untucked black sweater, the sleeves rolled up to show his delicious forearms. He had also let down his bun, letting his locks cascade down his face, occasionally flicking his head to the side to get a strand out of his eyes. He was lazily leaning back in his chair, holding a packet of paper with one hand, and casually twirling a pen with his other hand. It must’ve been lesson plans for next week, considering his tongue that slightly stuck out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. You definitely thought it was cute.

After much contemplation, you finally slid out of your chair and slowly made your way to his desk. He was alerted by your approaching footsteps, so he put both the pen and paper down in front of him on the desk and relaxed further into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. That action caused his pectorals to be pushed up, and you fought hard to keep your eyes glued to his sapphire ones.

“Mr. Dixon?” You asked tentatively.

His eyebrows perked up at the sound of his name. “Hm? I saw ya sittin’ over there for a while. Whatcha need, darlin’?”

You had to pause for a second.

It's just a common southern nickname. Don't make this weird. Just ask the damn question.

“Yeah I was just coming up here to see if I could get some sort of extra credit? I'm really not happy with the grade I got on the caddy assignment- I'm sorry I haven't been getting a hang of the techniques. If you give me something else to do, I promise I'll work hard and not do such a shitty job and-”

He cut you off with a slight raise of his hand combined with a light chuckle. “Woah, woah, slow down sweetheart, yer ramblin’.” 

That simultaneously made you calm down and caused your heart to race. 

He sat up slightly in his seat and pushed up his glasses. “How ‘bout this. I help ya make a simple cuttin’ board, and if you get all the techniques down, I'll give ya an 85 on tha’ caddy assignment. That sound fair?”

Honestly, you were ecstatic with his response. You had never expected him to say yes to your extra credit proposal, let alone him offering to personally help you with said project.

“Oh! Well, that would be very nice of you. Thank you, Mr. Dixon!”

He hit you with another smirk as he stood up and leaned on the side of his desk. “Ya don't have to keep up with all the professional shit. Call me Daryl. Now go on and grab one a those short planks a wood over there.” He motioned with a flick of his head to a table about ten feet away that had a bunch of leftover planks of wood from different students and projects sitting on it. 

You turned to the side because you felt your cheeks heat up from him wanting you to call him by his first name. “Okay, Daryl.” You said, sounding amused but also sheepish.

You picked up a decent sized plank and turned to walk back. You were met with Daryl grabbing two pairs of safety glasses from his desk and meeting you by the table saw. He handed a pair to you and you thanked him quietly.

He even made safety glasses hot. 

“I don't wanna risk going blind so I can't see my favorite professor.” You chuckled nervously at your poor attempt at flirting. He simply rolled eyes and huffed out a laugh.

“‘Kay. What I think yer mainly doing wrong is yer not goin’ slowly enough when cuttin’ yer wood, gives you those ugly, uneven edges. So. it's really important that ya go slow an’ ease into it.” 

That comment made you think of other scenarios, but you pushed it out of your mind and nodded along. You needed that 85%.

With a flip of a switch, the table saw spun to life, and you gripped it firmly on both sides so they didn't slip, something that Daryl was very vocal about in the first class. You held it in position to cut it in half to make it cutting board size, but you briefly halted your movement when you felt Daryl step behind you, presumably to see if your cuts were precise. Not for the reason you hoped, at least. 

“Remember, (Y/N), go slow. Take yer time.” His mouth was tantalizingly close to your ear, just enough so you could hear what he was saying over the buzz of the saw. Not only that, but his hands had traveled to the back of your arms to grip and hold them in place. Your breath hitched, but you remained focused, the loud whirring of the sharp saw snapping you out of your foul thoughts.

When you had finally guided the saw through all of the plank, you repeated the process with the corners, giving two of them a semi-rounded edge. Daryl released the grip he had on you to flip the switch to the “Off” position. He put the glasses up on his head, looked at the plank of wood in your hands, then back up to you.

“Better than th’ last thing ya made. Good job, sunshine.” He punctuated his sentence by taking the safety glasses off your face with a calloused hand.

You tried to keep your cool, but you let a stutter slip with that nickname combined with the sudden physical contact.

“Th… thank you, Mr. D- I mean Daryl. Sorry.” You let out a timid laugh, utterly intimidated while underneath his piercing gaze. You were met with another deep laugh that made your heart flutter.

“Yer good, (Y/N). Now go over to that empty table where the grit paper is. Ya need to sand it down. Don’t want ya gettin’ splinters.”

You did as you were told and strode over to the table that was free of any wood chips, with Daryl following suit. Taking the grit paper into your hands, you began sanding the left corner of your board, making sure that there were no jagged edges that could poke someone. You had expected Daryl to come into your field of vision, maybe he was about to suavely lean on a nearby cabinet that was next to the table to keep up the small talk.  But to your confusion, you still felt his presence standing behind you. You didn’t question it. Maybe he was just checking his phone before continuing to critique you. 

You had just finished sanding down the first corner of your board when you felt two hands grab your waist from behind, along with hot air hitting your neck. 

“I can see what yer doin’, (Y/N.)”

You went rigid. Your hands stopped their sanding movement. You’re pretty sure you stopped breathing for a moment. 

“Ya really think I don’t see the way ya look at me in class? So fuckin’ obvious.” His voice had taken on a new tone, one that you had never heard before in the several weeks you had his class. It was darker. Deeper. Hungry. You let out a pitiful, quiet whine at the sound alone as you put down both the wood and the grit paper.

Signaling he had heard your soft noise, he began to kiss and suck at your neck, and you could feel him smirking deviously against your skin. “I’m right, aint I? M’ voice doin’ somethin’ for ya, darlin’?” He rumbled the nickname right next to your ear and got back to working at your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise the skin, some already turning shades of purple. You nodded sporadically at the clearly rhetorical question, and breathed a small “yes.” 

His teeth lightly tugged at your earlobe, then he purred, “Turn around. Wanna look atcha.” Wanting to fulfill his every whim, you immediately flipped around to meet his carnal gaze, leaning your butt against the edge of the table to try and steady your wobbly footing. It wasn’t working. 

And he must’ve noticed, with the way he cockily raised an eyebrow while looking you up and down.

You're brows then furrowed in confusion when he turned to the edge of the table to where an armless wooden chair was sitting. He stepped over to the chair, easily picking it up with one arm while the other hand removed his glasses and placed them on the nearby table. He set the chair down a couple feet in front of you with a thunk. Sliding into the seat, he lazily spread his legs and set both his palms on his inner thighs, eyes half-lidded. 

"I can tell yer knees are ‘bout to buckle, doll. C'mere and sit down." He beckoned you with two fingers, and again, you instantly followed his command like he had put you in a lust filled trance.

“Okay, Daryl.” You simply put it, not currently having the brain function necessary to come up with a more coherent response. You cautiously walked over to where Daryl was manspreading and swung one of your legs over to the other side so that you were straddling him. It took everything in you not to start grinding on his half hard cock.

“Y’know, yer good at doin’ what yer told.” You could feel his hand slowly snake around your throat and applying pressure, his way of demanding your attention.

“I think ya deserve a reward.”

Another whine spilled out of you, followed by a desperate, “Please.” Your hands looped around the back of his neck and settled on the back of his head to tug at his brunette locks. You were desperate for more of his touch. For him to be as close as he possibly could. 

“Tha’ why ya stuck around till the end of class? Hm? Ta let me have my way with ya? I know it wasn't just ‘cause a that fuckin’ caddy.” His mouth ticked up in a triumphant smirk, knowing exactly what your sinful intentions were. His hand trailed up your thigh up to barely graze the place you wanted him most, all while keeping eye contact. You let out a pitiful groan and involuntarily started grinding softly.

He chuckled and disconnected his hand, settling it on your inner thigh. “So needy fer me already.” He rumbled in your ear in the same hungry manner he started with. 

With his large stature, he was basically eye to eye with you, even with you straddling on top of his lap. In this case, you were on top only in technical terms. Daryl was truly the one who was leading and in control.  

You squeaked out something resembling an “mhm” combined with a nod before ungracefully crashing into his lips. It was as if he had lit a fire inside of you, and the heat was reaching every part of your body that made contact with him. Another chuckle vibrated through your mouth, and it only made you more antsy. Daryl ran his tongue along your bottom lip, and you eagerly granted him access. Both your tongues were in a battle for dominance, and you were losing fast. Your hands were tangled in his hair and tugging lightly, and one of Daryl’s hands was on your hip, while the other was cupping your chin, seemingly to keep your head in position. It was wet, clumsy, and carnivorous. You couldn’t get enough.

But eventually, you had to pull back to get the oxygen that your lungs craved. Keeping your foreheads connected, you hungrily stared into his eyes while releasing rapid breaths, not currently having the energy to wipe away a small trail of drool that had run down your chin. His hand was still planted on the side of your face, and he used it to push it away from his forehead and to wipe the trail of drool away with his thumb, purposefully making the motion slow and teasing, gliding the pad of his thumb over your lips.

Suddenly, he grabbed your ass with both hands and harshly pushed you forward more onto his lap, and you gasped when you felt his full erection in his pants. He huffed out a laugh, enjoying the reactions he was getting out of you. 

“Ya feel what yer fuckin’ doin ta me, girl?” He practically growled, the grip on your ass tightening while moving his hips up. This caused you to start consistently grinding softly, your breath turning into hushed moans due to the added friction. When he raised his eyebrows at you while huffing out rumbly breaths, you braced yourself by locking your hands around his neck.

He trailed his hand back to your groin, pressing harder on the clit and enjoying your squeaking and harsh gasps.

“You want this, hm? Want me ta fill ya up and fuck ya till ya can't think no more?” The continuous rubbing of your clit combined with his accent getting thicker had you speechless, the only thing coming out of your mouth being a whine, while you placed your forehead on his shoulder, overwhelmed with pleasure.

But your head was immediately and forcefully raised when Daryl lightly tugged on your hair, making you lock eyes with him. “I need words, darlin’.” His voice was coated with lust, but also combined with genuine care for you and your well being, wanting to know if you really wanted this.

You locked eyes with him, letting him know you were sincere. “Yes. Please, Daryl. Need you.” Your sentences were broken, but it was enough to get your point across. 

He then leaned in to plant another kiss on your lips, but stopped a couple inches from your face. 

“Tha's my good girl.”

Your eyes could've rolled back right then and there. 

Hungrily, you latched back onto his lips, unhooking your hands from his neck to take off your baggy shirt, only disconnecting your lips from his long enough to pull it fully off over your head. You could feel his lips tick upwards at your needy actions. And as soon as he felt one of your hands grasp and tug at his collar, he followed suit, revealing his toned chest. You pulled away to marvel at the sight, your eyes going wide. You had only seen that chest in your dreams and now it's right in front of you. Shuffling down in the chair and leaning back, he teased, “Ya like what ya see, sweetheart?”

Another breathless “mhm” left you as Daryl started marking up your neck again working at the clasp of your bra. Once he got it unhooked, he immediately latched his mouth to your nipple, rolling the other with his fingertips. You yelped in surprise, but it quickly turned into soft moans from the stimulation. 

He embraced you yet again, nipping at your lips, drawing out a surprised yelp that morphed into a moan. Soon, your moans got heavier as you felt his hands lift from your waist and you heard the high-pitched clattering of a belt buckle being undone. He lifted himself up to his pants down to a little above his knees, and you pulled back to shamelessly stare at the act. He had already started impatiently stroking himself.

In response, you ogled a bit more before shimmying your pants and underwear down to your upper thigh, Daryl watching with an unbroken gaze, grunting softly. His eyes then traveled down to his inner thigh that your cunt was currently riding, his mouth ticking upwards again.

“So fuckin’ wet for me already.” He trailed his free hand up to the back of your neck. 

“Want you to fill me up, Daryl. Please. Been thinking about it all day.” Thoughts tumbled out of you with no filter, eager to feel his length inside of you.

He put two fingers to your slit, barely grazing the inside to tease you as much as possible. “Then get to ridin’, doll. Wanna teach ya a fuckin’ lesson.” You fought back a pitiful whine, a fast paced breath leaving your mouth in its wake.

Bracing yourself with your hands placed on his broad shoulders, you lifted yourself up, but stuttered your movement when you felt his already leaking tip touch your lips, intimidated by his size. Daryl cocked an eyebrow. 

“Wha's wrong, sunshine? Thought ya were thinkin’ bout me all day.” He teased. You playfully rolled your eyes, both from the sarcasm, and a little from the pleasure. 

Cautiously, you lowered yourself onto his length with a ragged breath. Daryl grunted at the squeezing contact and gripped the side of your hip in response, guiding you down. It took you a minute to adjust to his size, slightly grimacing from the lack of him stretching you out first. He noticed you taking your time and spoke up. “Y'alright? We can stop if y'wanna.” Your heart fluttered at him voicing his concern. 

“M'fine. Just had to adjust.” You said between deep breaths, looking into his eyes to make sure he knew you were genuine. 

Your legs moved up and you hooked your feet over his knees to easily move up and down, thanking your past self you put on a flexible material this morning. You tested the waters and moved up and down at the slow pace, and moments after moans started crawling out of you, getting lost in the feeling.

“Y'like that, sweetheart?” Both of his hands snaked over to your hips, rubbing his thumbs over your exposed skin. You could only muster an almost imperceivable nod.

“Then you best hold on, cowgirl.” 

Your brows furrowed and you squeaked out a questionable hum. 

The hum suddenly turned into a yelp as Daryl took your hips and guided you down in a swift motion, taking in almost the entirety of his cock as he bucked upwards. He did this at a consistent and steady pace, all while connected his lips to that sensitive spot on your neck. The moans that ripped through you were damn near pornographic, the sinful sounds of skin slapping echoed throughout the large work room. His name rolled out of your mouth like it was second nature.

“Fuck, feels so- feels… so good Daryl… fuck-” You breathed. A rumbly groan left him at the feeling of your tightness combined with hearing your pleasurable expletives. Teeth grazed your neck as he left marks all the way down to your clavicle, creating a trail of wet kisses and saliva down to your right nipple. He lightly sucked and bit on the sensitive flesh, rolling and teasing the other with his fingertips.

One of your hands was on his shoulder to ground yourself and have some stability, while the other was tugging desperately at his luscious brown locks. You were almost worried you were hurting him when he bottomed out and reached your g-spot, pulling his head in ecstasy. He moaned, but you had a feeling that it wasn't in discomfort.

“Bet y've been thinkin’ bout this fer weeks, huh?” He growled next to your ear in an accusatory manner, his breaths labored. “Gettin’ fucked by yer teacher all out in the open. Dirty little whore.” You felt your earlobe get harshly tugged by his teeth.

You didn't even have to think when you rambled out, “Yes… yes, Daryl. I have, I- fuck- I'm your whore. Only yours. Only yours.” He growled in approval, and somehow pounded into you at a more relentless pace. A familiar tightness in your core began to materialize, a feeling that only ever came to fruition in the dark nights of your dorm room, moans of his name getting muffled by the pillows beneath you. 

“Fuck… ‘m close-” You slurred, your mind turning more and more to mush by the minute. Daryl was too, signaled by his thrusts getting sloppier and jerky. 

“Cum on m’ cock, sweetheart. Wanna make a mess a ya.” 

His consistent pounding combined with the gruff command sent you over the edge, painting his length with your slick. The sheer force had you seeing stars, and you had to put your forehead on his to keep you from collapsing. 

Daryl wasn't far behind you, the feeling of you releasing around him being all he needed to reach his own high. With a few more pumps and a loud grunt, you felt him shoot inside of you, white and hot. A weak whine spilled out of you at the feeling.

“God damn.” He breathed out. “Yer gonna be the death of me. y'know that?”

He was met with silence, except for your ragged breaths. His brain raced with thoughts. Had he done something wrong? Was he too rough? Did he hurt you?

As gently as he could, he gripped your chin and lifted your head so you were eye to eye once more. “Y'still with me, darlin’? I didn't hurt ya, did I?” His voice was laced with concern, your well-being always being his first concern before anything else. 

A dopey smile came over you and you caressed his cheek with your palm. “I'm fine, just got a bit dizzy at the end there.” 

Pulling him in close, you stopped just before his lips. “It was perfect.” Your lips finally collided and, unlike the last kiss, this one was slow, but just as passionate. A kiss that conveyed feelings not yet spoken. Both of your lips were swollen and shiny by the time you pulled away.

He pressed a peck to your nose, then questioned, “Was I too mean? It felt too much. ‘M sorry if it was.”

“No no no! You're fine!” You assured. Suddenly embarrassed, you turned your head to the side and ducked it slightly. “That's uh… actually how I've imagined it going most of the time.” You ended your sentence with hiding your now hot face in the crook of Daryl’s neck. 

“Oh yeah?” You couldn't see it, but you sensed his cocked eyebrow and shit-eating smirk. “I'll be sure to angrily insult yer work in class more often, then.” He felt you radiating heat against his bare shoulder.

“Asshole.” That comment couldn't sound more not irritated, an audible smile being picked up by Daryl. 

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and he lightly chuckled at the feeling of you nuzzling against the crook of his neck.

“Teacher's pet.”

[drnikolatesla]

A Night with Tesla: The Future of Electrical Resonance

(This narrative is a creative reimagining of a 1901 interview with Nikola Tesla, titled "Tesla's Twentieth-Century Views," originally penned by Frank L. Perry for the Western Electrician. Presented from a first-person perspective, this piece offers a fun and immersive experience while preserving Tesla's original words about resonance and the future of energy.)

Late one Friday evening in January of 1901, I found myself at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, sitting down with the legendary inventor, Nikola Tesla. The setting was grand, but Tesla seemed entirely focused, undistracted by the opulence around him. I had been eager to ask him about his latest thoughts on the future of electrical energy, particularly the concept of resonance, or as Tesla often referred to it, “electrical tuning.”

With a mix of excitement and curiosity, I asked, “From your own investigations with high-frequency currents and the transmission of electrical energy, it seems that there’s a great future along these lines. Does the question of ‘electrical tuning’ become a most important one? Will this direct the progress of scientific discoveries in the next decade?”

Tesla leaned forward slightly, his eyes bright with conviction. “You have put a question,” he began, “which not only is of great importance in many arts of the present day, but also throughout the mechanism of the universe. The phenomena of sound and light afford striking examples. I believe that ultimately even nerve action will be proven to involve the principles of ‘sympathetic response.’” His thoughts were as bold as they were profound, suggesting that the very nature of life and nerve function operated on the same principles as electrical resonance.

He continued, “In my own experiments with electrical and mechanical vibrations, I’ve been impressed by the tremendous possibilities. With a small engine capable of pressing a piston back and forth with a force of just two pounds, I once set an entire block of modern buildings into such violent swaying that people rushed out terrified. And this was done through precise attunement.”

As he spoke, I found myself captivated by the simplicity of his explanation, despite the staggering implications. Tesla didn’t stop with mechanical resonance. He went on to explain his even more astonishing work in electrical vibration. “In electrical vibration,” he said, “I have frequently obtained results that were even more wonderful. The tuning of electric circuits is becoming increasingly important as the arts advance and methods refine. The layman can only have a vague idea of what can be accomplished in this line by those who possess the knowledge and skill.”

I asked him about this skill—how one could master such an art. “Knowledge of the principles is easy enough to acquire,” he admitted, “and one of the best sources of information on the subject comes from Prof. Pupin, whose work makes it accessible even to a beginner. But skill—now that takes patience and untiring dedication.”

The conversation turned to the challenges of refining electrical circuits for optimal resonance. Tesla explained, “Many experimenters don’t realize that an electrical system cannot vibrate freely through an imperfect contact or high resistance. It’s like trying to get a spring to vibrate while holding it firmly—it simply won’t happen.”

He paused for a moment, as though he was envisioning the future even as he spoke. “The transmission of electrical energy through the earth offers the greatest possibilities of development. The time is not far off when electrical oscillations will speed through the globe, each separate and distinct, fulfilling its mission. It’s a seemingly simple subject, but as you advance, it feels as if the wide ocean is opening up before your eyes.”

As we concluded, Tesla recalled an experiment from five years prior, where he had successfully “tuned” 150 circuits, calling each one in turn without disturbing the others. “At the time, I thought I had mastered the art,” he smiled, “but now I see that I was only just beginning to learn.”

Leaving that evening, I felt that I had been granted a rare glimpse into the mind of a true visionary, a man who saw the universe as a symphony of vibrations, with every element perfectly attuned. What Tesla envisioned wasn’t just a technological future—it was a harmonious one. And as we move further into the twentieth century, I can’t help but wonder how much of his grand vision we’ll soon witness.

[whumpthusiast]

So, my aforementioned story is titled Karma’s Bitch. It’s already at like 20k words but every time I open it I wind up rereading the whole thing and obsessively making changes.

I figure if I at least post the beginning and just get it going, it’ll force me to stop being a perfectionist.

So here’s a brief preview of Karma’s Bitch.

Masterlist

- contains kidnapping, mention of blood, gun threat, and the pov of a very annoyed woman

- the rest of the story will include things like: torture, knives, bloodloss, electrocution, role reversal, collars, starvation, dehydration, gags, begging, pet whump, non/ very dubious consent, and increasingly kinky behavior

————————————————————————————

It’s very dark in here. Dark and cramped, not to mention kinda cold. And it smells weird.

She’s never been in a trunk before. So far, not a great experience. Not that she’d ever expected it to be.

What the fuck.

She’s been kidnapped. Just yoinked right off the street. She was on her way home, minding her own business, listening to music as usual, and some absolute shithead grabbed her from behind. She didn’t have the chance to use her pepper spray or anything, she tried to but she dropped it, and she can’t help but be pissed off about it. She’s always wanted an excuse to use it on someone and she missed the perfect opportunity.

What the fuck, honestly.

She has no idea who this guy is (if it even is a guy but she’s pretty sure it is) or where they’re going, or why.

It’s objectively terrifying. It should be the scariest moment of her life. She knows that.

And yet, instead, it is really pissing her off. The more she thinks about, the angrier she gets, and, well - she’s got plenty of time to think about it.

She didn’t get to use her pepper spray, damn it. She did bite him on the hand pretty hard though, she’s proud of that, she can still taste his blood - ugh, I swear if I get a disease from that, I’m going to lose my shit.

But she’s been kidnapped. She’s the one being kidnapped. It’s just not fair at all.

He’s - he’s not even good at this. She groans in frustration, eyes rolling.

He tied her hands behind her back, but didn’t tie her legs at all. He just used one little piece of duct tape to gag her, she got that off with ease.

It’s almost insulting how low effort this is.

No, in fact, it is insulting.

She knows for a fact that she would have done a much better job than this, and she’s never even kidnapped anybody before. Thought about it, sure. But she’s never actually done it.

Is this his first time or something?

My god, it is. It has to be.

She got kidnapped by a beginner??

Oh, for the love of god.

She feels the car come to a stop not long after that, engine shutting off a moment later. A metallic rattling sound follows. She listens, puzzled, before identifying it as a garage door closing.

The sound of the car door reminds her to reposition herself. He’s expecting her to be a scared victim when he opens the trunk. What he gets instead is pent-up rage kicking him in the ribs with both feet.

She knocked the wind out of him, judging by the pained gasping from outside the car - but before she can contort herself around enough to get out of the trunk, he’s back up… and he’s pointing a gun at her.

God damn it.

————————————————————————————

@melpomenelamusa

[blueskittlesart]

Question abt drawing: been trying to attempt learning how to draw forever but I always have trouble getting over the obstacle of having to learn/study things like anatomy and shading, which then causes me to stop drawing and have a harder time picking it back up. I know it's important for improving your art and yourself as an artist but I can't help but see it as tedious and overwhelming, especially the anatomy since it's more on the science side of things and science is not my thing lol. Do you have any advice on how to get over it or work thru it?

i think there's a couple facets to this question. firstly i'd recommend you consider what exactly your end goal is in learning how to draw: do you specifically want to be able to produce anatomically accurate figures and true-to-life shading, or do you just want to be able to make something for fun that looks good to you? one of the most helpful things I ever learned at art school was that accuracy doesn't matter if it looks good. 99% of my art isn't strictly anatomically accurate, and part of that is stylization, but even when i'm doing realistic figure drawings i like to lengthen limbs and exaggerate curves in order to make my drawings look better. So if your only real goal with art is to make something that looks good and enjoy the process, my first piece of advice would be to stop worrying so much about stuff like perfect accuracy! if you use references and keep pushing yourself, the skill and understanding you're looking for will come naturally with time. before I was ever classically trained, I got pretty far just by drawing my favorite characters in different poses and situations over and over again, and that experience laid the groundwork for when classical training did become available to me. Just because you're not necessarily doing serious figure studies doesn't mean you're not getting valuable practice--what it means is that you're having FUN while you're practicing, and having fun with your art is the most important thing!!!

Secondly, you mentioned anatomy being on the science side of things, which suggests to me that you may be looking in the wrong places when trying to do more serious anatomical study. if you look up 'anatomy' or anything similar on a web search engine, you're likely going to get a lot of very complex scientific illustrations. and while those aren't necessarily devoid of artistic value (I took a class all about scientific anatomy for artists last semester and it was GREAT) for a beginner who's just trying to learn how to make a body look like a body, they're not what you're looking for. what is going to be much more helpful for you are sites like line of action or quickposes. these sites are basically repositories of figure drawing images, and you can set them to automatically switch to a new image after a certain interval of time. if you really, desperately want to improve your anatomy specifically, what I recommend is going to one of these sites, setting it to the shortest interval possible, and trying to copy the pose as closely as you can before time is up. this might sound crazy, since the shortest interval is usually somewhere between 30-60 seconds, which obviously isn't enough to get much down. but what this will do is force you to look at how these models' bodies are constructed and translate it onto the page quickly and without overthinking it. be warned, your first maybe hundred of these are going to look like shit. but if you do this enough, you're eventually going to gain an intrinsic sense for 1. how a body works and 2. the easiest way for you personally to construct a body when drawing it. even without knowing the scientific names and anatomical rules, you're going to get a FEEL for how things work, which is much more important and useful to you as a character artist.

Finally, i think the most important thing to remember is that no art is bad art, even if you're not satisfied with the end product. when you're first starting out as an artist, you're going to make things that don't look right and you're going to be frustrated with yourself because of it. i vividly remember crying over a sketchbook at maybe age 11 or 12 because I was so upset i couldn't put exactly what was in my head on the page. Skill comes with time and practice and that is a frustrating fact of life, but no time spent doing something you enjoy and are passionate about is wasted. It might look bad now but you are laying the groundwork for your future success, and someday you're probably going to look back on your past work and say "I can't believe I thought this looked bad back then. for my age and my skill level i was doing AMAZING." And as previously mentioned, it's a lot less discouraging when something looks bad if you had fun making it, so try to have FUN with your art. draw things you enjoy and are passionate about and don't worry if it looks bad. focus on the experience, the skill will come in time. you've got this!!

[spiderfreedom]

women must learn about technology

one of the most common gender-limited roles across the world is the making of musical instruments. in the majority of cultures, men make musical instruments. flutes are almost exclusively made by men.

this may seem like a weird little curio - i certainly thought it was - until you read more. in many cultures, instruments are played by the people who make them. if women don't have the knowledge to make instruments, then they can't play the instrument, because instruments may not be made as gifts. instruments become gendered. men resent women entering on their space and refuse to share technical knowledge with them on how to play or make the instrument. women are limited to singing (if that) or simple instruments that they can make. there are very few instruments that "only" women are allowed to play/make.

in its extreme form, this results in taboo musical instruments (usually flutes for some reason) that women may not see or hear on pain of death.

"so what", i hear you say. "what do musical instruments have to do with anything?" well, it shows that one of the most common ways to limit women and raise up men is to prevent or discourage women from having technical knowledge.

even in our allegedly """superior""" western cultures, music production and engineering is almost entirely male-dominated. ask women in production and sound engineering, and you'll find that they face not just benign sexism/prejudice but downright hostility.

men become associated with technology. technology from tekhnos - art or craft. women become associated with spiritualism, the immaterial, the unprovable and ineffable ("we are reclaiming our feminine power through astrology!") or alternatively the body, the base, the mundane, the maintenance work, using machines and technology that they did not create.

knowledge is power. men have historically guarded certain kinds of knowledge/power from women. today, too many men continue this gatekeeping. "don't worry your pretty little head about how a car works, missy." too many women are happy to let them, afraid to challenge their learned helplessness. "I'm a passenger princess! i'm too dumb to know how a washing machine works!" (and i even see feminists say things like "thank god a butch woman was here to help me change my tires." why associate technological knowledge with a certain gender presentation?)

learning about technology can be scary. it's complicated and there's a large body of material to challenge. many of us have been conditioned into learned helplessness, and it's easier and more immediately rewarding to ask someone else to take care of our technological issues for us. there's the issue of stereotype threat where we're afraid to fail and confirm negative stereotypes of women. but if we're serious about empowerment, we must remember knowledge is power. women who know about carpentry don't need to rely on men. women who know how to fix their car can intelligently converse with male mechanics. knowledge is the thing they can't take away from you, you carry it with you where you go, and you can share it with other women. you don't need to learn about every field of technology - pick one that piques your interest (electronics? electricity? carpentry? HVAC? auto mechanics?) and begin reading about it. do beginner diy stuff. over time, you'll gain confidence and useful skills. then help fellow women.

[musitechnicformation]

Enroll in our Sound Engineering Course for Local Students and take the first step toward an exciting career in audio technology! Designed specifically for aspiring engineers, this course offers hands-on training in sound recording, mixing, and mastering. Learn from industry experts and gain the practical skills needed to thrive in music production, broadcasting, and live sound. Perfect for local students looking to break into the dynamic world of sound engineering.

[ayothepizzahere4]

So ummm me and pookie bookie cookie poobie oobie woobie made this au typa thing with TF2 and kny SOOO :333

He most likely made a fusion of the breathing styles sound and sun breathing to make explosion breathing cus of his WILD demo and chemistry skills :3

He's probably a tsuchinoto or a hinoto, uses a saber to fight because his trusty possessed sword isn't scarlet crimson JUSTICR FOR MY BRO POSSESED SWORD 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 probably fights mid rank demons (lower rank 4-higher rank 3)

Heavy DEFINITELY uses stone breathing he's very strong and efficient with his breathing style though it did take him a bit to learn :3

He's most likely a konoe due to his heavy steps and visibility to demons and uses a mono sword to fight (or maybe his OWN SCARLET IRON BULLET FILLED MACHINE GUN, KASHKA 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽)

LIGHTNING BREATHER LIGHTNING BREATHER OR MAYBE A MIX OF WIND AND LIGHTNING BREATHING?? LIKE JUST FOR THE SPEED Or most likely doesn't even use a breathing style because of how like stubborn he is

Definitely a mizunoe / Mizunoto because he's rude and just lets others do his job for him and just uses a plain katana or a scattergun (IF HE DOESN'T USE BREATHING STYLES)

Engineer probably uses a mixture of lightning and stone breathing because of how used he is to electric things like his robots (proud father <3) he's very speedy with his breathing style (he tries his best)

He's a tsuchinoto for his devotion to fighting and his unique way of fighting he uses a double sided axe (kinda like a scythe but the blades or bigger and the stick is smaller by like three inches)

Sniper probably uses serpent breathing because he's used to sniping and it's like the closet it is to that or something (even just piss breathing/j)

He uses this longer version of a machete because professionals have standards and fighting demons with short weapons is NOT professional. He's a kanoto because he doesn't train that much which leads to him fighting low rank demons to no rank demons

He can't breathe. Okay I'm joking if he did have a breathing style it would be mist breathing because of (NOT BECAUSE OF HIS SMOKING HABIT) but because of how he can just disappear out of nowhere with one of the forms

Uses a plain katana because he wants to have the best efficiency to protect others and fight demons at the same time he's a tsuchinoto :3 and he mainly just became a demon slayer because scout did and he does NOT know how to use swords

Pyro DEFINITELY uses sun breathing and admires how sparkly sound breathing is and wants to learn how to use sound and sun breathing at the same time

They were pretty disappointed when they found it they couldn't use their trusty flame thrower but learnt how to make do with a sword or an axe and they're probably rank mizunoe or kanoto

Soldier uses sound breathing because of how it reminds him of the fourth of July he's pretty reckless with his weapon and breathing style but it's okay because it's soldier :3

Rank konoe or mizinoto because of he's recklessness and uses a shaska (is that what they're called I forgir 😞😞😞) he Was DEVESTAED when he found it he couldnt use a shovel

Medic most likely uses blood/blood Sakura breathing OR insect breathing he just likes things that reminds him of work OFF of work so he decided to go with that

He's probably rank kanoto (they're all beginners so ERM yeah :3) despite him being pretty strong and smart in the field and uses a plain katana OR the weapon shinobou uses depending on what breathing style (I didn't fully decide yet :3)

ANYWAU I hope thats accurate and stuff lemme know if you wanna know what type rank and stuff they would be if they were demons :3

reblog and comment for me, my freakys

[pipedreame]

Justice is Swift (Vengeance is Sweet) — a DPxDC Dead on Main Fic

chapter two is officially here!

master post || <- ch.1 || ch.2 shitposts || ch.3 ->

CHAPTER TWO — KISS AND TELL

Summary —

Danny starts classes, meets a new friend, makes a trip to the Realms, and has some surprise visitors. Jason and Tim have MUCH to think about and research. So much research…

chapter word count — 9,148

full chapter under the cut, but for the best experience read on ao3 and consider leaving kudos/comments as they fuel me :)

𓆩⟡𓆪

CHAPTER TWO — KISS AND TELL

The first week of classes flew by for Danny and suddenly it was already Thursday and time for his scheduled meeting with Bernard and his mysterious boyfriend at the campus cafe in the two hours before their last lecture of the day.

He was running late, the notes from his last lecture still clutched in his hands and threatening to fly away as he booked his way across the quad towards the central student center building. He managed to slide past the closing door from another student entering and glanced around in search of Bernard’s blonde hair. He had texted Danny that they were there nearly ten minutes ago and sure enough, he spotted Bernard at a table in the corner, sitting across someone with a dark red hoodie and black hair.

He beelined for them and matched Bernard’s friendly grin, plopping down on the seat next to him and across from the guy who looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place.

“Hey, you made it!” Bernard laughed at Danny’s disheveled state, scooting a cup of what was hopefully very strong coffee towards him. “I thought Professor Montgomery was gonna try holding you all hostage or something.”

Danny huffed a laugh and started organizing his notes to put them in his bag correctly. “Sure felt like it,” Danny groaned, “man, that guy is the slowest talker I’ve ever heard, it’s excruciating.”

The guy across from him hummed in amusement, eyeing Danny’s sketches and notes, “Advanced Mechanical Engineering?”

Danny sighed, “Yeah, unfortunately.”

The guy hummed again, “You gotta be pretty clever to take that class as a freshman, did you test out or transfer credits from elsewhere?”

Danny shrugged and flushed a little bit, “I tested out but also did my generals online and transferred the credits so I can take more advanced classes earlier. My parents were scientists and I could probably pass intro and beginner mech engineering in my sleep.” He finally managed to get everything in his backpack sorted and turned fully towards him, holding out his hand. “Hi, sorry for being rude. I’m Danny Nightingale.”

The guy smirked a bit and grabbed his hand in a firm grip, “Timothy Drake, pleasure to meet you, Danny.”

Danny’s eyes widened and he glanced from Timothy Fucking Drake to Bernard who’s shit eating grin was growing by the second.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Timothy Drake-Wayne, would you?”

Timothy shrugged. “I prefer to go by Tim.”

Danny barked a laugh and shoved his elbow into Bernard’s side who grunted and shoved him back without much luck. Danny was solid when he wanted to be, thank you very much. “Well, my friend Tucker is going to absolutely lose it when I rub it in his face that I sat at the same table as his idol and had an actual conversation.”

Tim rested his chin in his hand and looked amused. “Oh yeah? Well, make his day and tell him I said hi.”

Danny cackled at that, “I don’t want to be that annoying guy but would you mind taking a selfie for proof? He’s the type to call bullshit without supporting evidence.”

Tim’s eyes actually twinkled at that, “Sounds like a smart guy. Sure.”

Danny grinned and pulled out his Tucker-modified phone, spinning in his seat and pulling Bernard with him so they were facing away from Tim and towards his camera, effectively getting them all in. “Say cheese!”

Tim put on a very obviously media trained smile that Danny now recognized from articles and paparazzi photos, and Bernard held up a peace sign while Danny classily flipped the camera off with a shit eating grin. He laughed and quickly sent it to Tucker with a cheeky ‘my new good friend Tim says hi.’

“Thanks, he’ll probably faint.”

“Well, anything for a fan,” Tim waved it off only half sarcastically, eyes locked on Danny’s phone that was now on the table. “What model is that?”

Bernard sighed ruefully and Danny shot him an amused look before answering Tim. “It was originally an old Wayne Tech, I think. Until Tuck got his hands on it and did whatever magic he does.” Danny gave the dog a bone and slid it over to Tim to inspect. “I don’t know exactly what he did but I think I have the detailed manual he lovingly and painstakingly crafted somewhere if you’re interested. Or I can send you his information and you can absolutely make his life by complimenting his handiwork,” Danny not so subtly suggested. He was a fantastic friend and wing man and if Tucker ever said otherwise he was a dirty rotten liar.

Tim hummed as he fiddled with the hardware and poked around on the lock screen. “Do you have a carrier?” He frowned, poking some more.

Danny shrugged, “I don’t think so? Tucker’s always ranting about them robbing the public blind so I think he made a way around it. Unless someone is mysteriously paying a bill I don’t know about, but I doubt it.” Plus the small fact that he had signal even in the Realms, a feat Danny was positive no regular carrier company could pull off.

“Huh,” Tim stated, fascinated.

Bernard groaned, “Great, now you have him hooked. Make sure you get that thing back from him or he’ll steal it and spend all night reverse engineering it and I’ll have to call Con to help me lure him out of his cave.”

Tim spared a glance to glare at his boyfriend and not so subtly kicked him under the table and Danny laughed, amused at their antics and reminded of his friends. “Who’s Con?”

Bernard lit up and Tim’s face got a little softer around the edges. Danny liked whoever this Con was already. “Our boyfriend! He doesn’t take classes here and is busy with work or else I’d have dragged him along but you’d like him!”

Danny laughed in disbelief and groaned into his hands. “You’re kidding me.”

He could practically feel Tim and Bernard stiffen and looked up quickly to see their stony expressions, a far cry from the light and openness from moments before and Danny kicked himself for ruining it. “You got a problem with that?” Tim asked flatly, eyes narrowed. Danny sensed the underlying danger in it all and held his hands up, blanching.

“No, no! Literally not at all,” he stammered in a rush, trying to bring back the happy feelings from before. “I’m just somehow doomed to be surrounded by poly relationships while my love life continues to be very much a disaster.”

Tim and Bernard shared a look and relaxed minutely but were still guarded so Danny slid his phone back to himself and pulled up his album dedicated solely to his favorite group of lovable idiots. “Here they are,” he said with a fond grin, showing the other two the latest picture of Sam, Val, and Tucker hugging and laughing at some diner or other, clearly lovesick and giddy (even Sam who rarely showed true emotion in photos). Bernard let out a loud, “Aww,” hand over his heart and Tim relaxed fully again, smile back, thank the Ancients.

Danny pointed to Tucker in the middle with fries sticking out of his mouth like fangs (Tucker was absolutely going to murder him—again—for showing Timothy Drake this particular picture, but Danny thought it was worth it). “That’s Tucker Foley, tech extraordinaire and my best friend since we were in diapers,” Tim cocked his head to take in the picture better, assessing, now that he could put a face to the tech. “He’s going to CalTech for Compsci and Engineering and Sam and Val,” he pointed to the two respectively, “are at UCLA for Environmental Sciences and Bio Engineering.”

Bernard let out an appreciative noise, “Tim, I love them already. Enviro Sci and Bio and Tech! They’re basically alternate us! Damn, I wish Con was here,” he pouted and pulled out his phone to presumably text said boyfriend. Danny laughed, and took his phone back, scrolling past other pictures with a smile. Oh how he missed his friends.

Tim slid his phone over and Danny took a look at a picture of the three of them, Bernard and Tim pressed to either side of who Danny presumed to be Con, a tall punk looking guy with circle sunglasses and artfully spiked up black hair. “That’s Conner,” Tim supplied with a smile edging towards fond.

Danny smiled back, “Damn, you guys are adorable.”

Bernard swooned against him and Tim flushed a bit and snatched his phone back. “I know, right,” Bernard cooed, and Danny laughed, shoving him back upright. “I’m like the luckiest guy in the world, somehow snagging a rich genius and a hot punk rocker. My life is like, the best,” Danny fake gagged and Tim rolled his eyes but took his boyfriend’s offered hand across the table.

“Fuck, I really thought I would be free of insufferably sappy trios that make me feel oh so insufferably single,” Danny sighed, thunking his head on the table.

Bernard patted his back in sympathy, “There, there,” he hummed, “I’m sure we can find you your very own harem in no time.”

Danny groaned, “Yeah, no thank you, I could barely handle one person at a time which is why I didn’t join their group in the first place despite their insistence that a ‘polycule’ has a better ring than a ‘tripoly’.”

“Well, then that makes it even easier. I think Tim has a couple spare siblings we can hook you up with — ow! Kidding!”

Tim glared and pointed a stern finger at his boyfriend, “Don’t even joke. Danny doesn’t deserve to be subjected to any of those heathens and you know it. He’d get eaten alive.”

“Hey!” Danny exclaimed, offended. “I’m tougher than I look!”

“No, no,” Bernard patted his shoulder in sympathy, “he’s totally right. I wouldn’t subject you to that realm of chaos.”

Oh, if only they knew that Danny literally ruled over an infinite realm of chaos. He just shook his head in amusement. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen pictures of you Waynes and let’s just say that if any of them made a pass I’d give them the green light, chaos be damned.”

Tim made a sound of disgust as Bernard cackled. “I knew I liked you for a reason, Danny.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Tim shook his head. “Though if you stick around long enough one of them is bound to bite. Or Bruce will take one look at you and try to adopt you, so I hope you’re not too attached to your parents.”

Danny dimmed a bit at the mention of his parents but managed a laugh. “Well he’s welcome to try, I’m sure they wouldn’t put up much of a fuss but he might have to fight my sister, and my money is on her.” Not to mention the fact that Vlad would have a total conniption if another billionaire got their hooks in him — but, on second thought, maybe Jazz's wrath would be worth it to see the fruit loop's expression when he showed up at the next gala that Vlad was always trying to trick him into attending as a Wayne... But no. He wouldn't want to risk Vlad doing something drastic like overshadowing poor Bruce Wayne just because Danny wanted to be an annoying little shit. Damn.

Bernard slung an arm over his shoulder and Tim gave him a calculating look which Danny ignored in favor of taking a sip of his neglected coffee, desperate for a change of subject. “Thanks for this, by the way,” he wiggled the cup. “What do I owe you?”

Bernard waved him off, “Don’t worry about it. Perks of dating a Wayne, they tend to get things for free around here.”

Tim shrugged and Danny wasn’t going to argue about free coffee so he let it drop.

Conversation flowed to lighter topics and soon enough Danny and Bernard had to leave for their Physics lecture. Tim pressed a kiss to Bernard’s cheek and waved goodbye to them both. Danny waved back and waited until he was out of sight before spinning around on Bernard.

“Dude! Timothy Drake-Wayne‽”

Bernard laughed, eyes twinkling, “Please, I knew him long before he got the Wayne name and he’s still as much of a nerd. Now he’s just a rich nerd with a better family.”

Danny blinked at that and huffed out an incredulous laugh, “Okay yeah, I get that. Sam is totally loaded too and she’s like the most unhinged person I know. But still, there’s rich and then there’s Wayne rich.”

Bernard shrugged, “Yeah but in the end it’s the person who matters, and Tim? He’s my best friend. He’s always been my best friend even when we didn’t talk for years and he’ll probably, hopefully, be my best friend forever. And he’s the reason I met Conner, too, and now I have both of them,” he got that stupidly sappy look in his eyes and Danny shoved him playfully.

“Yeah you guys are solid, I can tell. I’m glad I met you, Bernard,” Danny grinned.

Bernard rolled his eyes, “You can call me Berny or Benny or something if you want. Bernard is such a mouthful.”

“Yeah, okay Benny Boo Boo, Boo Boo Bear,” Danny teased, eyes alight with mischief.

“Did you just How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days me, Nightingale?” Benny laughed in shock and Danny cackled. “No way that’s sticking! I take it back, your nickname privilege is revoked, Danny! Danny!” Danny jogged further away, still laughing. “Call me Bernard, I beg! Daniel!”

Yeah, Danny liked his new friends a lot.

—

Saturday morning had Danny prepping for a quick trip to the Realms to check in on things when his phone rang with an incoming video call.

“Hello?” He answered absently around the pen cap he had in between his teeth.

“Danny, you’ve completely fried Tucker’s brain with your Timothy Drake stunt,” Sam glowered back at him and Danny laughed.

“Good to see you too Sam, I hope your first week back to classes have been going well, how’s Val?” Danny teased.

“Classes are as awful as ever and Val is ready to smother Tucker in his sleep if he doesn’t stop gushing over how Timothy Drake-Wayne said hello to him via you, you jerk. Now he’s looking for flights and trying to convince us that he can somehow miraculously miss a week of classes to go on a stalker fanboy trip and it’s all your fault!”

Danny cackled, “Oh that’s even better than I thought! Has he really looked for flights?”

Sam glared, “Yes. We had to hide his credit card. You better tell him not to be an idiot and fly across the country just to try and catch a glimpse of your little friend.”

Danny held his hands up in surrender, “Okay okay, I’ll give him a call and tell him how irresponsible he’d be to ditch his favorite place and people in the world for week to hang out with his literal icon and boy crush that I can most definitely get him in contact with.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Sam whined.

Danny grinned, “Yep,” popping the P. “But seriously, I’ll tell him to wait until fall break at least. No promises past that.”

“That works for us. We were already talking about hopefully making a trip back home for Thanksgiving so we can probably stop by Gotham without too much hassle.”

“Please do, I miss you guys,” Danny frowned. Sam smiled softly.

“Yeah we miss you too, loser. Whaddya got planned for today?”

Danny sighed, “A trip to the GZ, I gotta make sure everything’s still running and I’ve got a couple scheduled brawls to handle. It’ll be good, I’m getting antsy without the constant barrage of duels. I’m understanding why they visited me in Amity so frequently now.”

Sam laughed, “Ghosts are so weird. Have fun duking it out. Call tomorrow?”

Danny nodded, “Yep, Tucker made sure to put it on my schedule and I still get an annoying amount of reminders for it throughout the week.”

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow then, stay out of trouble.” He managed to not laugh at the familiar words. Stay safe, Trouble. He so did not need to be thinking of Red Hood right now. The whole vigilante situation was a conversation to bring up when they were all together during their scheduled group call.

“Yeah, yeah, you too. Good luck with Tucker’s obsession and try to remember that you love him and would be devastated if Val actually killed him!”

Sam flipped him off before hanging up and Danny laughed.

He checked over his notes to make sure he wasn’t missing anything important that he had to prepare for and made sure his curtains were closed before transforming and ripping open a portal.

It’d gotten easier and easier over the years with practice and now that he was officially Prince Regent it was almost second nature. He slipped through and flew around leisurely, checking on things as he went until he finally made it to the council hall where the representatives were meeting.

It was a quick session, more to just keep him in the loop of things and keep in touch with his council friends, updating them on his mortal living and showing that he still took his responsibility as Prince Regent and Future King seriously. He wanted to do right by the Realms and he was insistent on proving himself worthy. It helped that he enjoyed spending time among the ghosts, not having to worry about hiding any part of himself and able to show off all of his abilities freely as needed. No carefully pulled punches necessary.

He parted ways with the council after the meeting had long dissolved into more gossip and light conversation than actual business and found Ember already waiting outside the building, leaning against a tree and idly strumming her guitar.

“Hey, Ember, how’s it been?”

Ember smiled at him and nodded, “Not too bad. A bit boring with the main Amity portal gone and our favorite punching bag in a city he banned us from, but we make do.”

Danny winced a little at her words. He knew the decisions to disable the portal and cut them off from Gotham sounded harsh, but he had talked it through with the Council and had all come to the agreement that it would be best. He didn’t want his parents or some other ghost hunting fanatics to go too crazy while he was gone and end up destroying the city or Ancients forbid actually capturing one of his ghosts, and he had no idea how Gotham would handle seeing his ghosts or what the Bat Clan might try and do to them. Until things had settled and he was sure it was safe, it was best to keep things contained to the Realms as much as possible.

“Well, I can help make things a bit more interesting now,” he smirked and she got the hint and swung her guitar at his head. He cackled, ducked, and the brawl began.

The best thing about fighting in the Infinite Realms was that he didn’t have to worry about any collateral damage or civilians getting hurt. He didn’t have to carefully direct the fight to more secluded areas or yell at stupid passerby’s to stop gawking and run. It was so much more fun on equal turf. He should have been doing this for years, really.

After a decent while of back and forth Ember finally called it quits, effectively worn out and seemingly pleased with the sparring. Danny felt better having been able to get some pent up energy out on a being that wouldn’t be completely disfigured by him punching with his full strength and shook out his arms in satisfaction.

“Don’t be a stranger, Phantom! Track me down next time you’re here,” Ember flicked him on the ear and left with him grumbling about normal ways to show affection.

He did track down a few other ghosts, checking in and getting the latest scoop (Elastica and Kitty) or having miniature brawls (Boxy and Johnny) to help relieve the buzzing burn of energy.

He left feeling satisfied and spent, muscles aching in the good, I-just-worked-out kinda way and core humming pleasantly in his chest.

—

Danny could tell someone was following him.

He had gotten pretty good at sensing prying eyes and his hackles were effectively raised, internal warning bells going haywire as he made the walk home from campus.

His last lecture had gotten out later than usual which meant Danny was walking in the dark, the sun setting earlier and earlier already and the dim, gloomy atmosphere of Gotham only enhancing the shadows even as the sun was still setting.

Danny made sure to look all around him, trying to figure out where the eyes were coming from. He debated skipping his normal alleyway shortcuts, seeing as how the last three days he’d had to step in to stop various muggings and drug deals, but he really just wanted to get home.

He toyed with the idea of a ghost being the one who was tracking him, but he knew he would have sensed it if it was. Which left a human or meta, and Danny didn’t like the thought of either.

Maybe it’s just a cute, stray alley cat. He tried to think positively but knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not himself, a known liar.

He sighed and walked through the first alley without any incidents but still felt the eyes pinning him down. His hands were clenched in his hoodie pocket and his feet threatened to leave the ground to just fly him away faster than he could run, but he tamped down the urge. The last thing he needed was attention on him like that.

After making it through the third alley without a confrontation he debated not leading whoever was following him to his apartment, but figured it would be as good a place to kick someone’s ass as any and with a lesser chance of being seen using his powers if needed.

He skipped the elevator and trudged up the three flights of stairs and by the time he got to his apartment door, he knew someone was already inside. He debated turning intangible to see who exactly was waiting, but he didn’t know if they had cameras around and didn’t want to risk it. He took a steadying breath and unlocked his door quickly, flipping on the lights as soon as he got the door open and quickly shutting and locking it behind him.

He blinked at the guy standing in his living room, and then blinked again. “Red Robin?” He asked in shock. Of all the people he expected, one of Batman’s Squad of Vigilantes wasn’t one of them. Which, he really shouldn’t have been that surprised considering his encounter with Red Hood.

“Daniel Fenton,” Red Robin said and Danny flinched at the name.

“Nightingale, actually. I got it changed. And I prefer Danny,” He slowly toed off his sneakers and set his bag on the table. It was only then that he saw Red Hood leaning against his kitchen counter. He sighed resentfully.

“Really? I thought you said you wouldn’t tell your buddies about me,” Danny folded his arms and glared at the masked Vigilante who held up his hands.

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell.” Danny could swear the guy was smirking under his mask and Red Robin spluttered.

“Kiss? Hood, please tell me you did not kiss a civilian,” he sounded exasperated.

Danny was a little miffed himself. “I don’t think we kissed. I think I would have definitely remembered that happening.”

“Oh trust me, you’ll know when I kiss you,” Red Hood said, voice low and deep, and Red Robin pinched the bridge of his nose as Danny's gut did a little flip.

Huh. He'd have to unpack that later.

“Okay, no more talking about kissing. Ignoring the fact that you somehow already know each other, and yes, Hood, we will be having words about that,” he glared and pointed accusingly at the still-pleased-with-himself vigilante, “I’m here to talk about you, Nightingale. Primarily, why you’re linked to over thirteen mysteriously stopped muggings and drug deals, all of which took place on your routes home from school.”

“Wow, okay, stalker much?” Danny scoffed, crossing his arms and internally panicking. He’d been caught. Somehow. Play it cool, play it cool. “What do you mean, ‘mysteriously stopped'?”

Red Robin sighed, pulling out a folder of something and setting it down beside Danny’s bag, gesturing for him to look through. He did so, flipping through images of what had to be some sort of surveillance videos of what were indeed, very familiar muggers and victims. Danny looked up at Red Robin with an eyebrow raised.

“Aaand,” he drew the word out, “am I supposed to be seeing something here besides some vaguely disturbing crime scene photos? None of these guys are dead, are they? That’d be a kinda fucked up thing to show me, dude.” Not that he was any stranger to death, and he knew for a fact that none of them were dead, but if he was actually a civilian? Yeah, that’d be fucked up.

Red Robin scoffed, ���No, none of them are dead. And that’s exactly the point. All of these guys were caught in the act of mugging someone but the person or thing that stopped them never shows up on the cameras. That shouldn’t be possible.”

Danny shrugged for real that time, “And what do I have to do with this? That sounds like a meta with invisibility or something to me and last I checked, I’m definitely not a meta.”

Red Robin pulled out another folder, and Danny was hesitant to flip it open, but forced himself to anyways. He saw pictures of himself walking on the street or down the familiar alleyways. “Holy shit,” he said bluntly, “You really are a fucking stalker. What the hell are you taking pictures of me for?”

Red Robin tapped the top picture of him walking on the street, clearly coming back from school. “Surveillance caught you walking towards the alleyways right around the time of each incident,” Red Robin explained, “You’re seen going in, but never seen coming out on either side, and the muggings all somehow get stopped at the same time.”

Danny’s heart sped up a little bit. Fuck.

“You can see how that looks a little bit suspicious?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“You don’t think I’ve ever seen something shady happening and gotten the fuck out of dodge? It happens way more often than you think and I try the alleys everyday because it’s so much faster, but sometimes I have to take the long way around instead and leave the crime fighting to creepy assholes like yourself,” Red Hood snorted at that and Red Robin sent him a glare, “If you’re saying that none of you or your little swarm of Bats stopped these guys, maybe you should take that as a sign that you’re not doing your jobs very well and when you find whoever did stop them maybe consider a nice thank you card or a gift basket instead of invading their home and privacy.”

Red Robin sighed in frustration and ignored everything but the first part of Danny’s speech, “See, we’ve checked literally every single angle. We know you couldn’t have left any other way without us seeing you, even with the blind spots! There’s no way for you to not be somehow involved.”

Well, time to do some better bullshitting, then. The mention of blind spots eased some of his worries. It seemed that at least they fortunately hadn’t seen him actively transform, and if Red Hood really hadn’t mentioned what he had seen… Danny sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face as he decided which route he wanted to take with this. Maybe he could clear himself of both instances if he played this right. “You clearly did enough research to figure out my given last name. Did you happen to check out my parents at all?”

Red Robin seemed taken aback by the question. “Drs. Jack and Madeline Fenton. Most of their work and research has been either heavily redacted or taken down completely, but from my understanding they’ve been rather dedicated to the research of the paranormal, correct?” His tone suggested exactly what the thought of that line of research.

Danny shrugged and laughed derisively, “Yeah that’s one way of putting it. I’d just call them rabid ghost hunters and be done with the fancy talk, though.”

Red Robin cocked his head, “Ghost hunters?” He asked, skepticism clear in his voice.

“Yep,” Danny said, popping the P. “Completely obsessed with it since college. Spend their entire lives dedicated to proving the existence of ghosts and planning out experiments they’d do if they ever successfully caught one.” Danny had to take a deep breath and blink away the memories of exactly the type of experiments they had done when they caught him. “I practically grew up in the lab they set up in our basement, surrounded by ghost finders, ghost gloves, ghost vacuums, you name it.”

“Okay,” Red Robin drew out, clearly trying to figure out why Danny was telling them this.

“How much research did you do on Amity Park itself?”

Red Robin shrugged, “Not much, I’ll admit, but nothing of substance stood out to merit further digging.”

Danny scoffed, “You should try again. I think you’ll find it very enlightening if you’re as good as they say. I know they tried their best to bury all the shit with the Guys In White, but they can’t have gotten everything. Try there first.”

“Guys In White?” Red Hood finally chimed in, curious.

Danny shrugged. “Some half-baked government agency. Tried enforcing martial law in Amity for a while, didn’t really stick,” he smirked at the memory, “I think their official agency name was Ghost Investigation Ward or some bullshit, but they dressed in all white and high schoolers are so very creative. I’ll let you figure the rest out, Detective.”

Red Robin was typing furiously on his wrist cuff and Danny assumed it was a list of things to research. “Now, are you guys done with the entering part of the breaking and entering or do you want to steal my leftovers as well, in for a penny and all that?”

“Well, if you’re offering to have me over for dinner,” Red Hood crooned but Red Robin interrupted, rudely. Danny shared a look with Red Hood as his partner paced around Danny’s small living room. Danny noticed the uncomfortable swirling was back in his gut and frowned, trying to pin point when it had started and why.

“Wait, wait, wait! Are you insinuating what I think you are?” Red Robin asked, voice higher than it was a minute ago. Danny turned his attention back to him and shrugged.

“Depends on what you think that is; you know what they say about assuming. But if it’s about getting the fuck out of my apartment, yes, I thought I made that clear enough.”

Red Robin stopped pacing and stared wide-eyed at Danny. “Ghosts. You’re insinuating that there are actual ghosts and that one might be what, lurking around the area, stopping muggings conveniently at the same time you’re walking home from school?”

“I think the correct term is haunt, not lurk,” Danny helpfully corrected.

Red Robin stared at him for a long moment before blinking, “Holy shit you’re serious.”

“Deadly,” Danny joked to himself. Red Hood snorted. Score.

“But! That can’t be it. Ghosts aren’t—“

“What? They aren’t real? The good old JL doesn’t have any files or databases on the subject?” Danny’s voice dripped with venom. He had his opinions on the Justice League and none of them were very flattering.

“They do, but they’re so sparse and the sources are so old they’re hardly credible,” Red Robin resumed pacing, seeming more and more frantic.

“Yeah okay, that sucks for you. Maybe do some more research and get those files updated. Have fun with that.” Danny was done being subtle. He glanced at Red Hood who seemed to catch his vibe.

“Red, time to go.”

Red Robin stopped and stared at them incredulously, “Seriously? Nightingale, I know you have more information. Why not just share it so we can figure out who this person or ghost or whatever is?”

Danny shrugged, “Maybe I don’t kiss and tell either. Maybe this ‘person-ghost-thing’,” he quoted Red’s earlier word when talking about whatever was stopping the muggings, “doesn’t want to be found. I’ve given you plenty to chew on so go have fun and don’t bother me for a while. Maybe learn to knock or call like civilized people while you’re at it.”

“Yep, we’re going. Red, grab your files or lose them,” Red Robin grumbled but reluctantly swiped the photos back into the files and followed Hood to the window they clearly came in through.

Hood made sure Red got all the way out before turning to Danny and giving a two finger salute, “Always a pleasure, Trouble.”

Danny shook his head with a rueful grin, “Likewise, Hood,” and then took a chance, “Does the League keep logs of distress calls?”

Hood’s head cocked to the side but after a moment’s hesitation he nodded, “Yeah. Extensively.”

Danny nodded and then requested, “Look into any calls sent from Amity starting about six years ago. See why no one came to help.”

Hood sucked in a little breath, seemingly surprised, and nodded again. “Will do. I’ll let you know what I find?”

Danny was a bit surprised by the offer, it was more of a concession than he expected from the vigilante with how secure and classified he was sure the League kept their records. His stomach lurched and he swallowed thickly. “Thanks,” and as the vigilante turned to leave he surprised both of them by saying, “Hood?”

The vigilante stopped and turned to him once again. Danny would guess his eyebrow would be raised if he could see it. “The offer for dinner stands if you want it, anytime.”

He didn’t know where the words came from but found himself not regretting them. There was something about the guy that drew Danny in. The swirling intensified.

Danny could have sworn Hood was smiling under his mask when he said, “I’ll make sure to knock, all civilized like.”

Danny laughed as the window shut behind them and he was finally left alone in his apartment.

“Finally! I thought they were going to be here foreverrr,” well, almost alone.

“Hey squirt,” Danny grinned down at the teenager currently hugging him. “How you doing, Ellie? And what took you so long? I told you I was moving weeks ago and you promised to stop by sooner! I had to ask around the GZ to see when the last time anyone saw you semi-alive and well or if I had to track you down in some lab or something.” The words were light, but they both knew they held more serious meaning. After all, ending up in a lab was a genuine concern and possibility for them.

Ellie pulled back and grinned sheepishly, “I know, sorry! I got distracted in Japan and then I lost track of time in the Zone, you know how it is.”

Danny sighed and pulled her back in for a short hug, “Yeah, I know.” Time was a little wonky in the Realms. You had to be careful not to spend too much time or before you know it a week could pass by in the mortal plane. “I’m glad you’re here now, though your timing kind of sucked. How much of all that did you see?”

Ellie snorted, “Oh, all of it. I was here before they decided to break in but I knew you were coming up so I wanted to see what you’d do first when they didn’t start stealing or tearing the place apart. I’m surprised you didn’t sense me.”

Danny shrugged, “I did eventually but I was a bit distracted with them stalking me and all that I didn’t notice at first. I’m not nearly as sensitive to you as I am others unless I’m focusing.”

“Yeah, yeah, shared DNA, yada yada,” she flopped down on his couch and he went to his fridge to pull out a couple containers of leftovers. He was starving. And tired. He paused when he saw a large container with a note on it.

You dropped yours. Forgive me for being rude? — RH

It was from the diner he’d been at before his mugging and first Red Hood encounter. He was oddly touched and chose to ignore the fact that the vigilante had either been observant enough to note the diner’s name on the spilled container or had gone back to check. He was too hungry to care. He pulled another container out for Ellie and grabbed some forks.

He gave the food to Ellie who took it gratefully, not even asking what it was before shoveling it into her mouth. He sat down next to her and she asked him questions while she chewed. He loved the disgusting little gremlin, he reminded himself. A lot. “Soooo,” she drew out, “who were those guys and what was all that about?”

Danny sighed and explained everything that had been going on. She nodded along and by the end she was laughing. “You’re trying to get them to believe that you have a ghost helping you out?”

Danny nodded, “Or that I’m helping Phantom out. Maybe I let him tag along to Gotham to get away from Amity’s ghost hunters,” he shrugged. “I’ll decide depending on what conclusions Red Robin scrounges up I guess.”

“And this Red Hood guy?” She wagged her eyebrows and Danny shoved her over.

“It’s not like that!”

“You invited him for dinner!” She cried, laughter clear in her voice. “And he was obviously flirting with you like every time he spoke! He liiiikes you,” she sang and jumped away as Danny tried to poke her in the side.

“Hey! No he doesn’t! I’m sure he’s like that with everyone!” He tried to defend himself. She stared at him like he was stupid. “What?” He asked defensively.

“You’re joking. Red Hood? The Red Hood? He’s definitely not like that with everybody. I think he’s more prone to murder and shooting first asking questions later, not flirty banter and inviting himself to dinners.”

“Oh yeah?” Danny asked, “And how do you know so much about him? Isn’t this your first time in Gotham?”

Ellie shrugged, “Word spreads around and the internet is very useful.”

Danny had to give that to her. “Fine, but still. I don’t see how he’s serious. Like you said, he’s The Red Hood. Capital ‘The’ and everything.”

“So? You’re The Phantom. Badasses are drawn to each other I guess,” Ellie shrugged all casual like as if the words didn’t make Danny want to cry. His little sister thought he was a badass.

“So how long are you staying?” He deflected, even if it was the answer he was dreading most. Ellie hadn’t stayed anywhere for very long since she escaped from Vlad. Danny and Jazz refused to try and force her to stick around anywhere, letting her have her freedom, but it was hard to let her go sometimes. Okay, every time.

Ellie darted her eyes around and bit her lip. Nervous. Danny braced himself for her to drop the bomb that she was leaving right then, not even staying the night. It wouldn’t be the first time but they always crushed him the most.

“Uh, I was actually hoping to maybe stay with you long-term?” Her voice was small and hopeful and Danny melted.

“Of course, pipsqueak,” he tried not to sound too eager. “You can stay as long as you want.”

She relaxed a little bit but kept fidgeting, “Okay but I’ve been thinking,” she hedged and Danny patted the seat next to him for her to sit down. She did, “I’ve been thinking about school.” She said it in a rush and Danny blinked.

“Okay,” he said easily. It’s not as if he and Jazz hadn’t considered it a possibility before but they hadn’t wanted to try and force her into it.

“Okay?” She asked, eyes large and waiting.

“Okay,” Danny repeated with a smile, “We have all of your documents and we can make either Jazz or I your legal guardian at any time, we were just waiting to see if we’d need to do it. I can get everything ready and we can find somewhere to enroll you in whenever you want.”

She flung her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder, “Thank you.”

He held onto her back just as tightly. “Of course, Ellie. Whatever you need.” He looked around his tiny studio apartment and cringed a little bit. “We might need to go apartment hunting again though, I don’t want you sleeping on the couch forever.”

Ellie shrugged, still not letting go. “I don’t mind,” she said and Danny laughed.

“Sure, but I do. If we’re doing this I want to do it right and give you the best you deserve.”

She pulled back slightly and opted for leaning against him, drawing his arm around her shoulder. He tucked her against his side. “Okay. But you really don’t need to move just for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, let me and Jazz worry about that. We’ll make it all work. I’m just happy to have you around, it was getting kinda lonely here without any other ghosts.”

She smiled and nestled closer, “Yeah, it gets kinda lonely without you or Jazz.”

Danny closed his eyes and willed away the building tears. He wondered how long she’d been feeling like that, but decided not to dwell on it. She was here now, and that’s all that mattered.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Tim frowned, pressed against the bricks outside the window as he waited for Hood, ready to hash out what they had just learned. Danny’s question about the logs made him curious and then his heart had dropped at the insinuation that something bad enough had happened in Amity to warrant the Justice League’s help. Even more concerning that the plea for help had seemingly gone unanswered.

“See why no one came to help.“

He itched to search the logs that very moment, but he focused back on Danny as he stopped Hood again, only this time his words had Tim nearly scoffing in surprise, settling instead on rolling his eyes and wanting to gag. He had been worried about Danny’s involvement in the muggings and possibly being a meta before, but now he was worried for the guy’s sanity. Honestly, inviting Red Hood to dinner, ‘anytime.’

Tim made a mental note to somehow work a discussion about basic safety and stranger danger and maybe not inviting crime lords into your house during their next cafe session.

Tim was absolutely hounding Jason for his apparent already established history with Danny if they were comfortable enough to flirt in front of his face and make plans for a date. (Really, why’d it have to be Jason of all possible vigilantes? What had Tim done to deserve this? Bernard and Con were going to be absolutely insufferable about this. Bart, Jaime, and Cassie were never allowed to know.)

He leveled Hood with a piercing glare as the infuriating vigilante finally swung out of the window, closing it aptly behind him. Before Tim could say anything (primarily: ‘What the fuck?’), Jason had tossed him a mocking salute and grappled away. Tim sighed in frustration and pursued, recognizing immediately that they were not headed to the Cave.

Fine by him, he’d be getting his answers one way or another and if Jason tried to stop him he’d have to face the disappointment of losing because Tim was not in the mood to beat around the bush and play their regular game of cat and mouse (and if Jason ever found out that he viewed him as the mouse Tim would probably be shot somewhere sensitive).

He followed Jason through the city and was a little surprised that they were headed to what Tim knew as his main apartment and not one of his many safe houses that he normally preferred to have any vigilante business talks (not that they had very many anyway, with how much of a point Jason made of not wanting to work with them).

He steeled himself for an aggravating conversation and a sleepless few nights ahead of him and swung through the window that Hood had even had the decency to leave open behind him.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Jason had no intention of following Tim to the Cave but he made no attempt to stop Tim from following him back to his apartment. He knew the conversation was inevitable so may as well bite the bullet and get it over with now and not have to deal with passive aggressive or heaven fucking forbid whiny Tim. Jason shuddered at the thought. No, much better to get it over with then, while it was still fresh.

He crawled through his own window, not wanting to walk through the halls in his suit (not that anyone would be surprised in this particular residence, but still, principles and all that). He almost entertained the idea of slamming the window shut and making Tim work to get himself in but figured the bastard might be in the mood to just break the window to speed things up. Tim was truly no fun like this.

“What the fuck‽” Tim immediately rounded on Jason when the window was firmly closed and the curtains drawn. “You didn’t think to tell me you knew my suspect? Is that why you came along?” It was exactly why Jason went with Tim when he heard about the investigation he and Oracle were doing. It wasn’t his fault Tim didn’t ask better questions before letting him tag along.

Jason shrugged, “Oh, I definitely thought to tell you. But then I thought ‘eh, better not’. Much more fun that way.”

“How do you know him?” Suspicious bastard. “And why didn’t he want you to tell your ‘buddies’ about him?” Jason matched Tim’s disdain for the descriptor, wrinkling his nose before sighing and discarding his helmet and settling in at the island bar.

“I saw him getting mugged,” Jason shrugged. Tim narrowed his eyes.

“And?” He prompted when Jason made no attempt to continue.

“And he took the fucker three times his size down with one well placed hit so I accused him of being a meta, which he didn’t take very well,” he omitted the part about the intangibility or phasing or whatever he'd seen, or thought he'd seen, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe he wanted to protect Danny from the full Bat Battalion if the guy did end up having some extra skill sets that B would see as a potential threat. (Maybe Danny's accusations from their first meeting still stung and he wasn't eager to piss off the possible meta anymore than he already had by spreading the information and therefore breaching his privacy even more.) If Tim was as good of a detective as they all claimed, he'd find out soon enough anyway. No need for Jason to be a snitch about it. He wasn't a fucking cop, after all.

Tim’s eyes widened a bit, clearly surprised at that piece of information but Jason continued before he could interrupt with more useless questions. “Look, I barely had a conversation with the guy,” which, was true. “I recognized him when Babs had his info pulled up and wanted to know what it was all about. Now, what do you have on him?”

Tim looked like he wanted to keep fighting but he deflated and leaned against the wall, “Just— don’t play around with him, Jay.”

Oh, Little Timmy was serious about this. Jason narrowed his eyes. “Why?” Not that he was planning on ‘playing’ with Danny, but he wanted to know why Tim of all people was invested. After all, Danny was his suspect.

Tim sighed dejectedly, as if he was suddenly bone tired. “He’s friends with Berny. They met at orientation and they share some classes. I talked with him for like two hours the other day and he’s —“ Tim ran a hand through his hair, “fuck, he’s nice. He’s funny, he talks about his friends like they’re his whole world and is smart enough to have the best full ride we offer and is taking advanced classes as a freshman. I just — I’m really hoping he’s not actually tied up in something messy that B is gonna have to get involved with and possibly ruin an actual, normal, friendship for Berny. I just don’t know.”

The admission caught Jason a bit off guard. For Tim to admit that he 'didn't know' something was rare and a clear indication that this situation was more serious than Jason had originally anticipated. Mixing personal life and business — how fun. But Jason stared at his replacement brother in a bit of concern. Tim was really, really invested in this kid. And Jason found himself right there with him. Something about Danny just drew him in and kept him there, and with all the new information he was only more intrigued. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Replacement,” Tim scowled at the name but they both knew it didn’t hold the same weight it used to. They had come a long way since Jason had first come back and while there was still the shadow of tension looming over them nearly all the time, they were steadily making progress. That didn’t mean Jason wanted to stop being an asshole (just maybe not a murderous asshole). “I’m not going to fuck around with him. I’ll help ya out, figure out what’s going on with him and try to keep him out of trouble and off of B’s radar for as long as possible.”

Tim looked at him with a bit of hope and bit like he expected Jason to jump out and say ‘Psych! Gotcha!’. It shouldn’t bother Jason as much as it did. “Really?” Tim asked and then immediately seemed to regret it. But Jason just nodded, dead serious (ha).

“Really.”

Tim finally let himself show a ghost of a smile. (Ha. Ghost. Imagine that, ghosts being real all this time. Right under their noses. The Justice League would pitch a fit if it ended up being true, Jason could imagine it now.)

“Okay, then,” he pulled out his files once again and set them in front of Jason to peruse. “I ran a basic background check on him before I knew he was tied up in the muggings case, y’know, since he was hanging out with Bernard so much.”

Jason nodded. They were all paranoid as shit, thanks to both their very public lives and their side work and all knew to run background checks on anyone they’d be spending any amount of time with.

“I clearly need to do more digging and find out more about these ‘Guys in White’ but nothing substantial came up on my first search to raise any red flags besides the name change and his parents' strange research,” Tim sounded troubled and Jason agreed. From the concerns that Danny had brought up with the call logs and his hints at researching the town more, there was clearly something Tim had missed, which raised alarm bells in itself. Tim rarely missed something, especially something as big as Danny insinuated, which either meant things were purposefully buried (concerning) or Tim had been blinded by his personal connection to Danny (unlikely). “Which I clearly need to find the complete versions of. I want to know what exactly has been redacted and why.”

Jason nodded, flipping through the printed research that was indeed heavily blacked out. It all sounded like cooky bullshit to him, but he found himself believing Danny when he said that there was truth behind it and he knew Tim would find out exactly what was hiding in the reports.

“Start with the call logs?” It had been disturbing Jason since Danny had asked about it and he knew Tim had heard the whole thing from outside the window. They shared a serious look about it now.

'See why no one came to help.’ What the fuck happened in Amity?

“Yeah, I’m starting there and looking deeper into Amity as a whole while I’m at it now that I know not to disregard any mention of ghosts as like, a tourist ploy or nut jobs,” Tim confirmed and Jason nodded.

“Keep me updated?”

“Yeah, and if you decide to do any digging yourself we can compare notes.”

“Sure thing, Timberina,” Jason said with a smirk, reveling in the way Tim rolled his eyes.

“Still fucking terrible, you know,” he grouched.

Jason gave him a shit-eating grin, “Oh, I know. Now get the fuck out of here, don’t you have investigating to do or boyfriends to smooch?”

Tim flipped him off before making a swift exit, even closing the window behind him. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

‘The offer for dinner stands if you want it, anytime.’

And there was what he really wanted to think about. Because. Holy fuck. Danny had invited him to have dinner with him. Anytime. He hadn’t even seen his apology leftover note and had already been willing to give Red Hood another chance.

Jesus Christ, what was he, a thirteen year old girl? His heart did not need to be skipping a beat at the thought, thank you very fucking much.

He didn’t even know he could trust the guy yet. Especially with all the information Tim had supplied — Jason had a sneaking suspicion Danny was way more involved in everything then he had let on despite his insistence and deflections. Now with the whole added ghost aspect…

Jason wasn’t the type to trust or take people at their word alone. He was the type to shoot first and contingency plan around possible lies and deception. And yet… Danny was somehow slipping past all of Jason’s defenses and he somehow found himself wanting to trust the man despite it all.

Danny was a mystery wrapped up in an enigma and Jason couldn’t wait to figure him out. He just hoped no one would get burned in the process.

[michelalovesbieber]

Proper Car Maintenance for Keeping Your Wheels Safe and Smooth

A New Jersey shipping company is stepping up to help beginner drivers with proper car maintenance tips. This guide covers the basics, from checking oil levels and proper brake and transmission maintenance, to inspecting tire pressure. It breaks down tasks into simple steps, making it easy for new drivers to follow. Knowing how to care for a car can save money and extend its life.

Lucky Star Auto Transport encourage beginner drivers to practice safe driving, and make sure they feel confident behind the wheel. By sharing helpful tips, they’re creating safer roads for everyone.

Transmission Types and Proper Maintenance Care

A transmission system connects engine power to vehicle movement. This complex mechanism controls the engine's rotational force and sends it to the wheels through precisely engineered components.

Types of Transmissions:

Manual transmissions require driver gear changes

Automatic transmissions change gears independently

Continuously Variable Transmission (CVT) offers infinite gear ratios

Dual-clutch transmissions combine automatic and manual features

Transmissions convert engine power into controlled energy that moves vehicles forward or backward.

Manual transmissions work with different gear sets that lock and unlock.

Automatic transmissions use the same set of gears to produce all gear ratios.

The cars gear-set is the life-line of automatic transmissions. It has three main components: the sun gear, planet gears with their carrier, and the ring gear. This system creates multiple gear ratios without engaging or disengaging additional gears.

Drivers should follow these maintenance steps to ensure optimal performance:

Check transmission fluid levels monthly

Look for potential leaks regularly

Service according to manufacturer schedules

Fix unusual noises quickly

Automatic transmissions rely heavily on their hydraulic system. The pump pulls fluid from the transmission sump and delivers it to the hydraulic system. Modern transmissions now use electronic controls. These controls use solenoids to manage hydraulic circuits while they track vehicle speed and throttle position.

Proper Brake Care: How Often to Replace Car Brakes

Regular brake inspections help prevent repairs that can get pricey and keep your vehicle safe. Mechanics suggest checking brake parts during regular maintenance. Brake pads typically last 30,000-35,000 miles with city driving and can extend up to 80,000 miles on highways.

Brake Inspection Process:

Let brakes cool down completely (minimum one hour)

Check brake fluid's color and level

Look through wheel spokes to check pad thickness

Remove wheels if needed for detailed inspection

Note any unusual sounds or vibrations

Your brakes might need service if you notice these signs:

Squealing or screeching at the time of braking

Grinding or growling sounds

Vibration in brake pedal or steering wheel

Longer stopping distances

Dashboard warning lights

Fresh brake pads measure between 10-12 millimeters (3/8 to 1/2 inch) thick. You should replace them when thickness drops to 3 millimeters, though some experts suggest replacement at 6 millimeters (1/4 inch).

You can check brake pad condition through wheel spokes. Many brake pads have a wear indicator slot - replacement becomes crucial when this slot barely shows or disappears. Several vehicles use dashboard warning lights or make squealing sounds to signal minimum pad thickness.

San Jose's city drivers might need brake pad replacement between 30,000-35,000 miles. Highway drivers can see their pads last up to 80,000 miles. Regular brake dust buildup shows normal wear, but less brake dust often means it's time to replace the pads.

Understanding basic tasks like checking oil levels, maintaining tire pressure, and keeping the car clean can improve cars safety and efficiency. This informative guide shared by the car transporters will provide you the right knowledge that can help you get started on the right track.

Take charge of your car’s care, and remember, regular maintenance saves you time and money in the long run. Keep your car in good condition for a smooth driving experience.

[thesapphireprincess]

Software Engineer 👩🏾‍💻

I recently learned that you can become a Software engineer without a degree. I found a free Introduction to software engineering course on YouTube. It was created by a computer science professor and he goes over everything that a beginner needs to know and what is learned in a full semester. I also found these free Harvard courses and after you complete them you can purchase a verified certificate. The certificate will look so good an a resume and it will show that you know the material.

💌 Being a Software Engineer isn’t the only option for a high paying job without a degree. This is just the one I am choosing.

There are so many resources online but after this I will most likely enroll into a software engineering boot camp since this is what most people do. I found that there are a lot of software engineers who do not have a degree but are still making a ton of money because the work is so valuable. I learned that you can get almost any 6 figure high paying job without a degree except in the medical field. This job will not be replaced by AI which is a relief.

The starting salary for an entry level position is around 70-80k in the United States as of June 2023. Even 60k would be great but there are people making 100-250k a year as a software engineer. The people who work at the big companies make even more than that.

This is a great way to set up your financial future. Imagine being able to save $1000-$2000 a month. Imagine where you’ll be at in 10 years. You can even use this as a starting base to set your life up financially. You’ll be able to afford to live anywhere in the world especially if you get a remote job. Places like San Diego, New York, London or Hawaii. You can afford the cost of living. You can afford to live in any of the major cities and have a really comfortable life. You will have lots of money that you’ll be able to multiply. You’ll actually be able to save up for a house and have actual money to invest. So many opportunities will be available to you. You can live below your means in the best way possible.

Personally I’ve always wanted to live by the beach in a city. By this time next year I’ll be living in a new city with a great high paying job. My current job will look amazing on my resume because I work side by side with engineers and technicians on a daily basis at a reputable company so I can totally jazz up my resume to sound really good. Which totally counts as ✨experience✨. I’ve been working here for a couple of years now which will look even better because it shows longevity.

I definitely plan on moving to San Diego or Hawaii next year when my lease is up. I will update y’all in a week on my progress.

[tearsinthemist]

Want to learn something new

Want to learn something new in 2022??

Absolute beginner adult ballet series (fabulous beginning teacher)

40 piano lessons for beginners (some of the best explanations for piano I’ve ever seen)

Excellent basic crochet video series

Basic knitting (probably the best how to knit video out there)

Pre-Free Figure Skate Levels A-D guides and practice activities (each video builds up with exercises to the actual moves!)

How to draw character faces video (very funny, surprisingly instructive?)

Another drawing character faces video

Literally my favorite art pose hack

Tutorial of how to make a whole ass Stardew Valley esque farming game in Gamemaker Studios 2??

Introduction to flying small aircrafts

French/Dutch/Fishtail braiding

Playing the guitar for beginners (well paced and excellent instructor)

Playing the violin for beginners (really good practical tips mixed in)

Color theory in digital art (not of the children’s hospital variety)

Retake classes you hated but now there’s zero stakes:

Calculus 1 (full semester class)

Learn basic statistics (free textbook)

Introduction to college physics (free textbook)

Introduction to accounting (free textbook)

Learn a language:

Ancient Greek

Latin

Spanish

German

Japanese (grammar guide) (for dummies)

French

Russian (pretty good cyrillic guide!)

Jan 2, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2023??

Cooking with flavor bootcamp (used what I learned in this a LOT this year)

Beekeeping 101

Learn Interior Design from the British Academy of Interior Design (free to audit course - just choose the free option when you register)

Video on learning to read music that actually helped me??

How to use and sew with a sewing machine

How to ride a bike (listen. some of us never learned, and that's okay.)

How to cornrow-braid hair (I have it on good authority that this video is a godsend for doing your baby niece's black hair)

Making mead at home (I actually did this last summer and it was SO good)

How to garden

Basics of snowboarding (proceed with caution)

How to draw for people who (think they) suck at art (I know this website looks like a 2003 monstrosity, but the tutorials are excellent)

Pixel art for beginners so you can make the next great indie game

Go (back) to school

Introduction to Astronomy (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Principals of Economics (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Introduction to philosophy (free college course)

Computer science basics (full-semester Harvard course free online)

Learn a language

Japanese for Dummies (link fix from 2022)

Ukrainian

Portuguese (Brazil)

American Sign Language (as somebody who works with Deaf people professionally, I also strongly advise you to read up on Deaf/HoH culture and history!)

Chinese (Mandarin, Simplified)

Quenya (LOTR fantasy elf language)

Dec 26, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2024??

Beginner-oriented video on how to sail

This guy has so many videos on baking different types of bread. SO very many.

Coding in Python - one of the most flexible and adaptable high-level programming languages out there - explained through projects making video games

Learn to swim! (for adult learners. I don’t care if you live in Kansas or Mali or wherever. LEARN TO SWIM.)

Learn how quantum mechanics works. Then read some more about it

[Learn about quantum mechanics again, but in a more advanced engineering/mathematics class. Then read more about the math and physics of it]

Poetry Handbook, by Mary Oliver

Something I learned this year: how to sew a quilt (Here’s a very easy beginning pattern that looks amazing and can be done with pre-cut fabric!)

How to hit the ball in softball

Tutorial video on what is under the hood of most (gas) cars + weird engine sounds and what they mean

Full beginner mechanics technical training, if you want to go more in depth

Playlist on how car engine physics work if you want to go ultra in depth

Lecture series on architecture design through study of buildings

How (American income) taxes & tax law work (choose “audit course” at checkout for free class)

Pickleball for beginners (so you can finally join your neighbor/friend/distant cousin who is always insisting you join their team)

+ Para-Pickleball for beginners (for mobility aid users!)

School is so much more fun when there’s no tests:

American Law - Contracts

Shakespeare’s Life and Plays

Fairy Tales: Meanings, Messages, and Morals

Modern Poetry

World History [Part 1, Part 2]

Learn a language:

Arabic + Resource Guide compiled from Reddit (includes info on different dialects)

Chinese (Cantonese) (audio)

Urdu (frequently recommended course on Reddit) + Resource Guide

Yucatec Maya