#Hooks and rails for organization

[tapronlimited]

Simple Ideas to Make Your Small Bathroom Look Bigger

The Tapron blog post offers practical tips for making a small bathroom appear larger. It suggests using light colors to create an illusion of more space, selecting the right tile size to avoid a cluttered look, and installing wall-hung fixtures to maximize floor space. The use of mirrors to reflect light and add depth, as well as efficient storage solutions, are also recommended to enhance the perception of space. For showers, choosing enclosures with infolding or sliding doors can save room. For more detailed strategies, visit the full guide here.

[revelboo]

Howdy Rev! I hope things are going well for you (or at least better than how things have been for me, as I had to have my gallbladder removed and it may take about 2 to 3 weeks before I’m on my feet and active again lol.) Could I request a scenario where Knockouttends to his favorite human after surgery? He’s always been my comfort character, and especially through the post surgery healing process.

I hope everything went well and your recovery goes smoothly

Scenario-care

Knockout x Reader

• “What do you think you’re doing?” Flinching guilty, gripping the edge of the hospital style bed you’re trying to not worry over how he’d acquired for you, you look up to find him looming over you, optics narrowed and panels flaring slightly like an affronted cat to make him look bigger. “Because I know you’re not trying to get up after I told you not to.” Wilting under the weight of his glare, you can’t muster the energy to be indignant about being treated like a little kid by him.

• Tension winding him tight as you ease back down and he vents tiredly. Hating this. That he’d had to entrust your surgery to a human medic, but you’re so tiny, even mass displaced he’d been scared to try and do it himself. His servos never failing him for delicate wet works, but just the thought of cutting into you had made them tremble uncontrollably. That hadn’t stopped him from researching and learning everything he could about your surgery, though. Or bringing you home as soon as he’d been able, using his avatar to smuggle you out of the hospital pretending to be a human medic. Because human or not, he can take better care of you than some other organic could. “I was going to get some water,” you mumble, unresisting when he hooks a servo under your legs and swings them back up into the bed and pulls the safety rail back up.

• And you thought he’d been a pain in the butt before. He was a saint compared to whatever this is, though you’re beginning to wonder if it’s actually worry. If he’d been scared of the surgery even though you’d told it was routine. “And risk falling? Popping your stitches,” he growls, fetching you some water. “That what you want? To bleed all over my clean Medbay?” Sighing as you take the water and he fluffs up your pillows. Again. Fiddling with your blankets. Worrying over you and hiding it behind arrogant annoyance as you warm. “What are you smiling about?“

• “You like me,” you say, grin widening and he freezes, servos flexing. Not sure what to say to that and you reach out to pat his servo before he can think of a clever comeback. “Love you too, doc.” Sputtering at you, he growls. Because you must still be loopy on pain killers. Love? You can’t love him. The two of you get along, you fight with him and argue, but get over it. And you challenge him, push him to try harder to not be outdone by a human. You’re his. But do you actually love him? Why is that thought so terrifying?

• Is he actually speechless? Or did you break him? You’d been teasing, but he’s just staring at you and he almost looks scared as he pushes away from your setup on the counter and heads for the back where his supplies are, walking stiffly. Watching him go, you relax into your bed to wait for him to come back. Did the ‘I love you’ really mess him up that bad? Because you’re so tempted to tell him how much you love his arrogant, narcissistic, shiny butt all the time if it bothers him that much.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 14 - "If you don't stop now-"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

If there was one thing vigilante work did for you it was honing your senses and instincts as well as helping you become more aware of the things around you. Of course there were a lot more things it helped with but these were the things that helped Dick realize what just happened.

His back pocket was definitely a whole lot lighter than it had been before he had a little run in with a black haired child. Dick chuckled lightly to himself as he turned around and surveyed the streets. It didn't take him long. The child was apparently still a starter when it came to pickpocketing people, well at least not as skilled as the kids of Crime Alley.

Still for a kid to resort to stealing, especially in a city like Gotham, there had to be a situation behind it. So what was originally supposed to be a little errand run for the sibling gaming night later in the day became now the observation of the little pickpocketier.

He followed the child all evening, watching how the kid stole wallets and fruits from street stalls all unnoticed by anyone else. Close to sunset Dick then also watched with surprise how the kid approached a police station. The kid didn't stick around long, and a quick question to the officers inside as a good natured citizen looking for his wallet, let him find out that the kid delivered all the wallets he had stolen over the day. Emptied of their money but returned with everything else.

He pocketed his own wallet quickly so that he wouldn't lose sight of the child and continued to follow the boy. With time Dick became more and more worried, as the boy appeared to walk around Gotham in a completely random path with no clear destination until the boy looked up once at the clocktower and then appeared like he had a place to go to. It worried Dick, especially when he noticed the boy going into Crime Alley.

Now he wasn't in uniform but civvies and this was his little brother's territory. Dick had two choices, follow the kid and put his civil image at risk and apologize later to Little Wing about investigating a kid of his territory or contact Little Wing and ask him to see what he could find out about this child or if he maybe even knew the kid already.

He did neither, fully knowing he would probably get an ear full from B later. Checking his surroundings he quickly made sure that no one was around as he took to the roofs in his civies. Still following the child as the boy walked through Crime Alley. Finally they reached an old, small and run down warehouse. One Dick knew, neither his brother nor anyone else was using because of how run down it was.

Carefully he jumped on its roof, avoiding any and all loose boards while he made his way to a window and snuck in. Luckily there was an overhead pathway in this warehouse and despite the metal creaking under his feet it looked like it was holding his weight. Looking over the railing though caused him to frown and his eyebrows to furrow with displeasure.

Below him was a small camp. A red haired teenager was holding a toddler in her arms cooking something on one of these mobile electric camping stoves that was hooked up to what looked like a soup thermos. Little ways from her lay two barely okay looking mattresses with little to now ratty looking bedding.

"Danny, where were you all day?!" The teenager shouted once the kid he had followed came into her view and Dick recognised that tone. It was one he also used at times with his siblings and Dami liked to call his older brother voice.

"Earning some money and buying some food for you." The boy, Danny, muttered as he handed over the money he had stolen as well as the food he also had stolen.

"Danny." The sister knew that, Dick thought as he continued to listen in. He had his phone out and had taken a couple pictures already he had sent to his siblings in preparation. Babs was already organizing a temporary stay for the three.

"You need to eat something too! Ellie, Dan and I are fine temporarily living off ambient ectoplasm but you need some food!" Dick narrowed his eyes. Four siblings, three can be assumed as metas able to live off something that's not food. The oldest sister appears to be a normal human. He sent the update of information to the others.

"Besides neither Dan nor me did get caught so far and you said it yourself! Once we got enough money we can get an apartment! Or move further away!"

"Danny. You and Dan can't go and continue to steal things."

"How else should we make money then. No one would hire kids!" Dick could easily disagree with this, considering what he had seen in all his years of vigilante work. But a part of him was glad that these kids did not have the contacts to end up on the really really bad side of things.

"Still you shouldn't do that. What if you do get caught, or worse if you and Dan get the GIWs attention."

"We won't." The boy retorted stubbornly and Dick couldn't help but feel reminded of some of the arguments he had with his own siblings.

"Danny, I know that you and Dan are using what little you have recovered of your ghost powers. If you don't stop now-"

Dick never got to hear the rest of the scowling the teenager was going to give the boy as the door of the little warehouse burst open and he had to make sure that he wasn't going to fall off the overhead pathway at what he saw.

In the bust open door stood Little Wing in his full Red Hood get up and he was holding what appeared to be the feral twin of the boy he had followed. Well at least feral in the sense that the child was yelling profanities and trying to punch and kick his brother.

"So this is where you little shit hide all this time? This is no place to live for a kid like you."

Dick muffled a chuckle as he watched Little Wing take in the stunned other occupants of the warehouse before tossing the kid in his arm over to his siblings. Interestingly enough he saw the boy's eyes flash red and Danny's started to glow green as he took a protective stance before his brother.

"Listen up, you little squatters. You four are coming with me before this shit of a place collapses. No running, no escaping and no fighting back and no fucking biting. You are coming with me and that's that."

Dick made sure that he filmed his little brother's entire interaction with the four siblings, including his very dramatic and bad guy like spiel about forcing the four to follow him when Dick knew perfectly well that his brother was a bleeding heart when it came to the kids of his territory.

Grinning Dick escaped the situation through the same window he had gotten in and sent the video he had taken to the others as the update to the situation. He probably would have to dodge Little Wing later for that but for now he could return to the manor knowing that the little pickpocketier and his siblings were safe with his brother.

[kellycataclysm]

Eyes on me...

Stepping out through the doors she took in a deep breath of the cool night air. She looked out at the city skyline over the ornate curled ironwork of the balcony railing, a clock bell tolling in the distance, the first bursts and pops of fireworks, their vivid shimmering trails scattering across the indigo sky, announcing the new year. Harvey stepped in front of her, his arms wrapping around her waist.

She beamed, feeling exhilarated. ‘Happy New Year, handsome.’

He smiled. ‘Happy New Year, sweetheart.’

Hooking a finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his, placing a soft kiss on her lips. She inhaled deeply as they parted, a wave of contentment flooding her body. Their eyes met and he held her close, his hand at the small of her back. She felt herself being enveloped by him, as he held her tight, towering over her, leaning back as his hand rested on the doorframe behind them, supporting them as he pressed his lips to hers once more, this time hungry, intense, almost overwhelming. She moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed as his tongue brushed over her bottom lip, feeling swept up in him, the effect of his passion beginning to coil tightly at her core, a tremor cascading through her body.

The above is an excerpt from my New Year's Eve fic, Mirror, Mirror, written a few months ago. It's one of my favourites and this absolutely beautiful art from my wonderful friend @sunshinecovey is also one of my favourites, a little repost from a few months ago.

The story is very romantic, and very spicy. If you like, you can read it here. There's a sample of the spice below the cut.

Happy New Years Eve.

‘No. I want you to watch.’ Harvey spoke softly as his hands curved over her hips, her eyes locking onto his in the reflection. ‘I want you to see what I see, every time I touch you.’ She nodded, for once unable to think of anything to say, so entranced by him and the undeniable allure of the mirror. She watched as he traced one hand over the lace of her panties, her breath catching in her throat as he smoothed over the fabric, damp between her legs, dragging his fingers back over her clothed clit, higher to her waist, pulling her flush with him. She clenched around nothing, moaning delicately, her mouth opening slightly as his long fingers teased at the waistband.

‘So pretty…’ He murmured against her ear, her eyes fluttering shut for just a second, before watching closely as he dragged the lace down her legs.

Credit for the pretty dividers goes to @saradika-graphics

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 17

summary: You finally step outside after days of recovery, but your curiosity leads you into a dangerous situation that nearly takes your life. Why you thought it was smart to let them lower you into the water to catch the well walker, who knows. In a flashback, you and Shane are at a drive-in movie, where his attempts at intimacy clash with your lingering hurt over the Daryl situation, sparking more of Shane’s frustration.

no warnings apply, lmk if I missed any

x flash forward x 

Your curiosity was too strong as you debated going outside into the warm summer air. Like the last few hours of evening sun were beckoning you to come outside. You peek out the window pane on the front door and decide to hell with it. Rick sits at the bottom of the steps as you carefully slip out barefoot onto the porch, the creak of the wood giving you away.

“Ah, hey,” he says quietly, turning towards you while fiddling with his sheriff’s hat, “good to see you up on your feet,”

You smile back and join him, sitting on the second-to-last step. The sun hangs lower in the sky, casting long evening shadows over the farm. You glance around, taking in the surroundings—a beaten-up old barn off to the right, the dirt driveway snaking away through pastures of animals. The peacefulness feels like a distant memory, one you didn’t think you’d find again. You smile to yourself, you’ll definitely be making a trip to the stables when your body can make the journey.

“How’re you?” you ask Rick softly, turning to him, “How’s Carl?”

He smiles warmly to you, “Doin’ just fine, we’re very grateful to Hershel and his family,”

His kindness settles over you like a blanket. Where Lori’s eyes were cold and sharp, Rick’s are gentle and welcoming. You feel comforted in his presence. But before you can say more, footsteps draw your attention to the left. Daryl appears in the distance, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, heading toward the woods.

“Daryl,” Rick calls to him.

Daryl pauses and looks toward the sound of Rick’s voice. He sees you sitting next to him on the steps, and holds your eyes for a long moment while Rick asks, “You okay on your own?”

Daryl’s eyes swivel to Rick as he gets up off the stairs to walk towards him.

“‘m better on ma own,” Daryl calls, turning away again, “I’ll be back before dark,” 

“Hey!” Rick calls to him with more authority in his tone, “we got a base. We can get this search properly organized now,”

“You gotta point or are we just chatting?” Daryl starts approaching Rick. Your eyes roll at his rudeness. He always had such a way with words.

“My point,” Rick continues ignoring the tone, “is it lets you off the hook. You don’t owe us anything,”

You catch his eye as he glances at you, “yeah well, my other plans fell through,” he turns away quickly to the woods. Your brow furrows, confusion filling your head. You knew he was uncomfortable when you said goodbye earlier, but didn’t think it’d made an impact so much he would rather avoid you. Maybe he was just saying that to save face in front of the others, but it still made your mind race with uncertainty.

An older man steps onto the patio then, walking down the stairs, “feelin better?”

You look up to him and realize he’s talking to you, “Uh, yes sir,” you say, uncertain. You realize this must be Hershel, and you quickly stand, holding the railing for support.

“Y/N, this is Hershel, this is his farm. He patched you up when you and…when you got shot,” Rick explains.

“Oh,” you say timidly, feeling a sudden surge of gratitude, “thank you…for everything. Your home is beautiful,” you shake his hand with a small smile.

“You’re very welcome,” he says back, his smile mirroring yours. His tone is gentle but formal.

Rick begins, “we can give you some space,” and Hershel turns his head to listen, dropping your hand, “could set up over by the barn,” 

Hershel shakes his head, descending the stairs. “No need for that. Better you stay close to the house,” he replies, but there’s a shift in his tone. His eyes narrow as he meets Rick’s gaze, standing in front of him now, “But I don’t say this lightly, Rick.”

Rick straightens, sensing something coming.

“We don’t normally take in strangers,” Hershel says, his voice steady but firm. “I can’t have your people thinking this is permanent.”

Rick’s jaw ticks as he listens intently and Hershel continues: “We don’t normally take in strangers. I can’t have your people thinking this is permanent.”

Your heart sinks. The thought of leaving here…leaving this sanctuary of peace. 

“Once you find that girl and when your boy and this woman are fit for travel,” he says, his hand motioning toward you, “I expect you’ll move on,” 

As Hershel walks away, Rick exhales heavily beside you, his shoulders slumping with the weight of it all. He glances at you, offering a small, weary smile before heading off, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

—

As you enjoy the warmth of the sun on your face from the porch a little while longer, you watch two people in the distance–you can make out T-Dog’s glistening dark skin in the evening light, his broad shoulders working out the well water. Dale must've been next to him, the Hawaiian shirt and bucket hat unmistakeable. But suddenly Dale is running to T-Dog, knocking something out of his hands. You stand abruptly, a sharp pain stabbing your side. 

“Guys,” you call out to the others at their campsite. A few heads swivel to you, and follow your finger pointing out to the paddock. Dale is making his way over to the group, bee lining to Shane. Dale is tense, talking quickly and pointing to where T-Dog stands. You see them share words, and you can see even from here how Shane’s wide eyes stare out to the well in the pasture.

When they all start making their way to the field, you hurriedly make your way to follow behind them, Glenn eyeing you as you catch up. “I’m fine,” you say softly, but with a sternness to your voice. He just nods and widens his pace to run ahead.

As you approach the open well, the sloshing of water echoes up from its depths, an unsettling sound in the otherwise still air. Peering over the wooden beams that cross the top, your stomach drops at the ungodly sight below. There’s a walker half-submerged in the water, its skin grotesquely swollen and bloated from days, maybe weeks, spent decomposing in the well. Its flesh is stretched tight, a sickly blue hue, waterlogged and decaying. When it senses movement above, its pale eyes snap upward, and it snarls, teeth bared in a mindless rage.

You wince at the sight and look up, only to lock eyes with Shane. His gaze is dark, his jaw clenched. The anger in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“The hell you doin’ out here?” Shane hisses from across the well, his voice barely controlled.

You swallow, feeling the weight of everyone else’s eyes on you. "Wanted to see what it was," you admit quietly.

“You should get your ass back in bed,” Shane growls, the words full of warning, though his gaze never leaves you.

The group is still discussing the walker at the bottom of the well—what to do, how to get it out. They need to get it out alive. Shooting it would contaminate the water. But Shane’s glare is still burning into you, and you can feel his frustration with your presence. Finally, though, he seems to give in, muttering under his breath but allowing you to stay.

“How do we get it out?” Glenn asks, looking between the group.

“Bait,” you say simply.

A piece of raw pork swings down the well with a noose in front of it as Shane tries to entice the walker. But it's no use, and you all seem to have the same horrifying realization at once. Dead bait wasn’t nearly as enticing as live, squirming, screaming bait. Your heart hammers in your chest when they start looking at you. You know what’s coming next.

–

This was a stupid idea. A god damn stupid, stupid plan. Before long, the rope is looped around your waist, and Glenn is tying a snug knot, his hands working fast but carefully. “You’ll be fine,” he assures you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. He looks sincere, but the knot in your stomach only tightens. He was originally going to go down into the well, but you all decided you would be lighter and might have better aim when it came to tying the noose around its neck. To Shane’s constant chagrin, he begrudgingly agreed to you going down, on the agreement he’d be in front pulling the rope to be sure it was held onto tight. 

The rope creaks and strains as they slowly lower you into the well. The air feels heavy and wet, clinging to your skin as you descend. Your breaths come in short, sharp gasps, each one loud in your ears as it bounces off the stone walls, slick with condensation. You press your bare feet against the cold, slimy rocks, trying to keep your balance as they lower you deeper into the well’s darkness.

Should’ve worn shoes. You gripe to yourself.

You look down at the disgusting creature below you. Blue and soggy with streaks of blood coming from it. It’s probably already contaminated the water. 

This was such a stupid idea. 

You swing the noose below your legs, trying to aim for its neck. 

“Little lower,” Maggie’s voice calls down, but just as you look up at the sound of her voice—

Suddenly you’re falling, and you’re falling fast.

You barely hear the other’s screams as your own rip from your throat, piercing the water logged air. You're kicking furiously away from the walker, trying your damnedest to keep your very-ready-to-eat flesh away from it. Your hands clutch the rope so hard it's burning your skin, but you hardly notice, adrenaline surging through your veins. 

The walker is hissing and gurgling, swiping its nasty swollen hands at you. You gasp for air between screams, the stench of death so strong it makes your stomach lurch. 

The pain on your side is so intense, but you grit your teeth down hard. You weren’t going to come down here again, dammit. Your hands fumble around the rope as your whole body shakes with absolute fear, and you find the noose, and pray to god for a short moment. But you steady yourself, Daryl’s voice in your head, aim lower, right there. You hold your breath for a moment and fling it down and across the walker's neck, and pull with every ounce of strength left in you.

You’re screaming again, though you’re not really sure if you ever stopped, honestly. The rope pulls taut, and suddenly, you’re being yanked upward, water splashing around you as your body leaves the well.

When you reach the top, your hands slap down on the wooden beams, your fingers gripping the rough wood so hard you can feel the splinters. Shane lunges for you, grabbing you under the arms as Glenn takes your other side, both of them hoisting you up and over the edge.

You collapse on the dry grass, your chest heaving, lungs burning as you gulp down air. The adrenaline is still pumping, but now that you’re out, the pain in your side becomes a sharp, agonizing throb. You clutch at the wound, your fingers coming away wet with fresh blood.

Shane’s face looms above you, his eyes burning with fury. “I knew this was a goddamn terrible idea,” he snarls. “Sending you down there—knew it.”

Dale stands over you, peering down. “Back to the drawing board,” he mutters, and you let out a breathless, bitter laugh, your body sagging against the grass.

“Says you,” you exhale, barely able to get the words out.

But then, they all fall silent. You glance over, realizing you’d done it. The noose is secured around the walker’s neck. You got the thing, even after all the screaming, after all the fear. They all run to it in a hurry, and begin to cheer as they pull the rope attached to the swimming walker to get it out. 

The relief hits you in waves, washing over your trembling body as you gasp for breath. You did it. But you don’t linger to watch the thing get pulled out of the well. The pain in your side, the exhaustion—it’s all too much. You push yourself to your feet and stumble away from the edge, letting the others handle the rest.

Later, you hear the news: your efforts hadn’t mattered in the end. The walker split clean in half on its way up, its bloated, decaying body too fragile to hold together. All that work, all that fear—for nothing.

x flashback x

It had been a few weeks since your confrontation with Daryl. Your heart felt heavy with the distance between you. You felt like you didn’t know what it was like to breathe without having him close anymore. You felt so angry with him, for letting Shane get between you. But guilt overshadowed any anger, because you knew deep down you had allowed it to happen. Maybe that was why Daryl refused to talk to you–because he was hurt that you allowed this wedge between the two of you. You hadn’t been able to shake the hollow ache in your chest, a sense of loss you couldn’t quite name. 

Classes blurred by during the day, you had trouble focusing. You avoided going out with friends, nervous you’d run into him again. You were ashamed at how badly you wanted to run into him. 

Shane had called one late afternoon, and picked you up just as the sun was going down. He brought the truck to your favorite drive in, the screen flashing with an old 80s movie. As he scrolled through the radio stations to find the one for the movie sound, you saw his eyes peer over to you a few times. When the volume was turned up and you could hear voices in the speakers of the truck, he leaned down to the floor of the passenger side, brushing your legs and pulled two beers from his cooler. 

With a loud sigh, you leaned in closer to him, just how you always sat with him at the theater. He pulled his right leg up onto the seat and you laid in between his knees, head against his chest, looking past the dash to the screen. The night air was cool, and the windows of the truck were cracked just enough to let the breeze in. Shane had been talking about the movie, making little comments, trying to get you to laugh—but all you could think about was Daryl.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he finally said, swigging from his beer.

You shrugged, your fingers tracing the cold glass bottle. “Just… thinkin’.”

Shane shifted behind you you, pulling your chin up to look back at him, “Come on, Y/N. Talk to me. You’ve been actin’ like this for weeks. You’re not yourself.”

You took a slow breath, feeling the lump in your throat. How could you tell him that you missed Daryl? That you hated the way things had ended between you two? Shane wouldn’t understand.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, trying to sound convincing, averting your eyes back to the screen.

Shane sighed heavily, setting his beer down on the dash, “Don’t give me that. You’ve been down since you started school. This ain’t just about college, is it?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, you stared down at the beer in your hands, the ache in your chest tightening. “It’s nothing, Shane. I’m just... tired.”

“Tired?” Shane echoed, his voice sharper now, a note of frustration creeping in. “You’re sittin’ there actin’ like your world’s fallin’ apart, and you expect me to believe you’re just tired?”

Before you could respond, Shane laid his hands on your arms, rubbing them softly. “Look, I’m here, alright? I’m tryin’ to help. But you gotta let me in.”

He was trying to comfort you, to be there for you in a way that felt both familiar and intimate. His hand found your waist, pulling you toward him, his touch firm but not forceful. But you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling inside, the lingering sadness that wasn’t about Shane at all. Or maybe it was about him too.

His lips brushed against the side of your neck, but your body didn’t respond the way it usually did. There was a distance, a block, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull yourself out of the pit you were in.

Shane noticed the hesitation almost immediately. He pulled back, “You’re thinkin’ about him, aren’t you?” His voice was low, tense.

You stiffened, guilt washing over you. “Shane, it’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, “You’ve been actin’ off ever since you left for school. I know it’s got somethin’ to do with him. Boo hoo, he won’t call. I told you you were better off without him,”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat. He was right. You couldn’t stop thinking about Daryl—about the way he’d pushed you away over and over again. But his words were still harsh as they clashed in your head.

You could feel Shane’s jaw clenched behind you as he brought you back against him harder, his frustration palpable. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m right in front of you, and you’re still thinkin’ about that asshole.”

Your breath hitched, but you couldn’t deny it. “It’s not that simple, Shane.”

Shane leaned back in his seat, jaw tight, but instead of shutting down completely, he spoke again, his frustration clear but his voice softer. “You gotta stop thinkin’ about him, Y/N,” he said, the edge of control creeping into his tone. “He ain’t got nothin’ for you. You’ve got a future—college, a life ahead of you. I keep tellin’ you over and over. He’s just gonna drag you down, keep you stuck in that same mess you’ve always been in. When will you see him for what he really is?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Shane cut you off, his hand gripping you across your front gently but firmly. “I’m the one who’s lookin’ out for you. You think Daryl’s gonna give you a future? No. I’m tryin’ to protect you, to keep you from endin’ up like him. Like trailer trash.”

The words hit you hard, again and again, but Shane’s gaze was steady, almost pleading as you looked up at him with misty eyes. His gaze softened, his thumb lightly rubbing your skin, "You gotta trust me on this. You deserve better than that life." His eyes searched yours, waiting for you to agree, waiting for you to let go of Daryl for good.

[ss-shitstorm]

Sorry the next chapter of Bread is taking so long here's an excerpt

Your almost friend pulls you up the final step, pausing at the railing to allow you to get your bearings. How thoughtful. It's every bit as cheerfully chaotic up here, seats, barstools and stage all occupied by scaled-down bots in varying stages and sorts of intoxication.

Actually, the crowd in front of the stage seems more densely populated then it’s downstairs duplicate, tossing their version of currency at a pink and more pink femme scattering violet sparks as she spins suspended by only her hooked wrist and ankle.

Same shit, different stage. You swallow thickly, following Starscream into then around the crowd, wincing as a rust colored bot spins around on his barstool to loudly wolf-whistle at you two, while his buddy sloughs off onto the floor like wet play dough during his own attempt. Holograms or not, they seem to walk, talk and fuck like their living counterparts, and having a hyper-realistic crowd to practice in front of for the first time ever is giving you the heebie jeebies. Especially since they seem cognizant of your exotic-by-proxy status, prompting hushed whispers and elbow-jabs as you walk by.

“Yoooo is that an organic? Primus it’s an organic.”

“SHOW US YOUR PLUMBUS-!”

“Shut the FRAG up SmackJaw, they don’t all have those!”

“God, did you have to put so many people in here?!” you hiss, watching the minicons in the back rows leaving their seats to scoot closer up front as you join your companion on the stage.

“How else do you expect to get used to it? At least this audience won’t cause a problem.” He illustrates his point by kneeling down on the ledge, which “Smackjaw” is attempting to drunkenly climb, and proceeds to smack him directly in his jaw hard enough he falls backwards onto the floor.

Your own jaw drops in horror. Then disbelief as he stumbles back to his peds, blinks a few times, then goes back to cheering in a repetitive NPC fashion.

“Alright everyone-!“ Shouts Airplane man as he rights himself. “This is a LESSON, not a show. You can stay if you want, our little rookie here would benefit immensely from the pressure if you do-“ he gestures toward your shaking self as one would a frightened rabbit, hopefully not one held over an overpass. “-but they’re NOT exposing their plumbus.”

That’s enough of a deterrent for some, but not all. Smackjaw and a few others stay rooted in place while their peers shuffle to the bar or the back, where someone had unleashed a multicolored glowing beach ball to toss around.

“I can spawn a few more helium lob-balls for them, if you’d like.” Offers your teacher, who’s now leaning against the frontmost pole with his arms crossed.

“I-“ Deep breathes. Deep, deep breathes, until you hyperventilate and pass out. You exhale shakily, biting your trembling lip. “-no that’s….that’s okay.”

“You do realize how low the stakes are, don’t you?” he raises an optical ridge. “You concoct more deadly things in your lab on a daily basis and make a hobby of trying to die. Where exactly do you get off being petrified by a bunch of programs?”

He's right and you know it. But tell that to the part of your brain responsible for social anxiety, public speaking and removing clothing in public anywhere other than in front of Garbage man’s garbage gaze. “I don’t. But it’s…it’s different, okay?!”

“I know it is. Appealing to logic works for some bot’s jitters, but not others. I suppose you fall into the “others” category.” He steps off the pole, over to you and kneels down, much to your confusion. “Sit down for a moment, would you?”

You do as told, sliding into a shaky mess on the floor. “Why?”

“Because I’m giving you a medicinal solution to your jitters.” He says, opening his servo to reveal half of a Valium tablet.

Oh boy. Dr. Feelgood at it again. “That’s gonna take too long to start working.”

“If your INTAKE in the orifice you cram it into, then yes. But I’ve done my research of this substance and its bio-availability to your species. There’s other ways that, while reducing the efficacy a bit, will send it speedrunning into your system.”

You choke on nothing. “I’m…I’m not putting it in my ass.”

“Vector-sigma no! No. Why is it always feces and fecal accessories with you?!” he retches.” That’s not what I’m suggesting.”

“Then what are you suggesting?”

He answers by abruptly closing his servo around the tablet, opening it once more to reveal he’d crushed it to powder. He then procures a thin metal tube like the one you’d seen Knockout use, and offers it to you.

“Insufflate it into your olfactory organ. It should hit in five kliks tops, peak in a quarter of a groon. If you come down while we’re still working, I can give you the other half.”

Understandably, you’ve got reservations. Reservations that are reviewed and disregarded in a manner of moments, because you can’t be wasting anymore time on this. You’re learning to pole dance in a cat costume from a sentient Airplane to save a rabbit from a perverted meth kingpin mayor you now sell alien chocolate narcotics to, and none of those things should have ever come together to make a sentence. If snorting sedatives out of Airplane man’s cupped servos is going to get you done with this thing and back to your other, equally stupid jobs faster, then you’d be even stupider to not do it.

“Okay-“ you say, tube already in your hand as you push the tip into your nostril, close the other one, and proceed to clean the powder out of his hands.

You’d expected it to burn, probably due to the stabilizers to keep it in pill form. You hadn’t expected it to punch you in the back of your mouth through your nose, making your eyes water as it congeals, oozes, then drips down the back of your throat, where it also burns. You take the tube out, groaning, sniveling and clutching your head as you try to get to your feet, only to be firmly held in place.

“Not yet.” He takes the tube, roping his massive arm around both your shoulders like a lead blanket. “Stay put till it kicks in, then several moments after. Once you’re certain the room isn’t going to start spinning, or once it’s stopped, then I’ll help you up.”

You don’t try to argue, waiting impatiently for the familiar, dreamy, I-never-had-any-fucks-to-begin-with- feeling to come creeping up. Or flying-jump-kick you in the dick.

It seems to be a combination of the two; a lucid apathy setting in the precise moment you open your mouth to ask “how long-?” Only to have a “Wow…okay, yeah…wow.” flop out instead as the sensation surges, nearly knocking your seated ass backwards. Your limbs aren’t limp marionette strings this time, but the muscles in your back relax enough your torso struggles to keep you upright.

Fortunately, your lead blanket has equally few qualms about becoming a backrest. He shifts his weight, bracing the arm not slung around you to hold himself upright so you can lean into his chassis.

You wonder how long he’ll bother to stay like this until he gets bored, impatient, or decides you’re gross again and shoves you out of his lap. You wonder what exactly it’ll mean if he doesn’t do any of those things and stays put. You also wonder when exactly the last time you’d felt this at ease with someone, drugs and death machine nonwithstanding. Because despite everything, you’re experiencing a brief, Bodhisattva level of peace.

“I…uh….yeah..s'good.” you begin so very sagely. “I think I’m…ready.” you flit your (only slightly) blurred vision to your backrest’s face. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He doesn’t move you, but retracts one of his arms, rolling his neck with a wince. “Not that your minuscule frame could cause any damage, but I’ll need you to return the favor. Sitting here has given me a bit of a crick.”

Blinking not entirely in sync, you crane your head back a bit further than it should go to see him reaching his free arm and servo into his subspace, emerging with a container of dusky blue powder.

“That’s…” you pause, tongue unpleasantly thick and dry against the roof of your mouth. “…that’s not Valium, is it?”

“I’ll consider that a rhetorical query.” He says, sparing you the associated look he’d give if he didn’t. “It’s nucleon nail in freebase form. A bit of a pain to evaporate and salt out of the injector, but far easier to dose out in this manner. Especially if you’re not planning on being unconscious.”

Like your long-suffering, still-recovering B1ll. The same thread of concern unraveled for your assistant tangles for your current companion, though knit with strands of incredulousness. “You’re sedating yourself?” you ask, lolling into the crevice of his side and elbow as his massive-by-comparison form shifts around you to bring the container in front of both your faces. “You’re the teacher and you’re sedating yourself?”

“Firstly, I’m relaxing myself.” He gives the container several firm shakes before popping the lid open. “I’m taking half of a recreational dose, and less than 1/4th of a therapeutic one. Secondly, it’s not just for relaxing. It’s for pain management. One doesn’t live through a war that spans planetary life cycles without incurring multiple injuries, not all of which heal properly or stay healed. Grind-dancing is likely to aggravate at least some of the scars I’ve brought back from the battlefield. He pauses, loosing a bitter growl under his breath. “Or those acquired closer to home.”

He's referring to the maulings your Mastiff dolls out. Both ones you’d failed to prevent, and ones that occurred before your planet hosted sentient life. Your heart tries to plummet, the diazepam slowing it’s fall to a gradual tumble. “I…okay yeah. Sorry.” You blurt out sheepishly. “I’ll raise my hand before I ask another stupid question.”

“Yes, well I’m not sending you to detention quite yet.” He plucks the metal tube still held loosely in your hand, before turning it palm-up towards the ceiling, cupping it in his servo. “Ready to reciprocate?”

You’ve less than zero issues doing that, but the sheer insanity of the situation still gives you pause. Snorting sedatives and alien pain relievers with an alien in a holographic representation of an alien strip club may well be the most ludicrous thing you’ve had happen to you to date, and considering the batshit ordeals you’ve been through and continue to go through in order to protect, serve, and serve your captors fecal-based-hydrocarbons, that’s fucking saying something.

This doesn’t feel like an ordeal anymore, though. In fact, it feels like the exact opposite. It feels special, intimate. The way two beings that genuinely find relief in each other’s presence feel on an excursion planned for exclusively the two of them.

It feels fun.

“Sure.” You hold both hands beneath the container in wait. “I’m guessing the uh…mass displacement doesn’t affect the dosage?”

“Not if I don’t revert to my full height till after it’s been metabolized.” He uses the tube to scrape a dime-sized amount of out the capsule and into your palms. ” Before then, it’ll be reduced to 1/10th of it’s efficacy and I’d get more pain relief from being bludgeoned in the back of the helm.”

There’s probably some fascinating physics behind that. Physics you’re not going to dissect because it falls squarely outside of your jurisdiction of mad chemist and alien cocaine mirror. Instead you stare transfixed, watching the twinkling powder, cool and oddly ticklish to the touch collect in your palms till he closes the lid.

“You really don’t have any reservations about touching organics, do you?” you ask while he cranes his head and neck forward over your shoulders, bringing the tube to his face with one servo, and raising your cradled hands with another.

He grants you a sidelong glance over your own shoulder, lambent Japanese carmine optics narrowing in amusement.

“You’ve already been in my cockpit, haven’t you?” he asks with a grin that makes your lungs stop working. “Were you acutely toxic, I would’ve been poisoned well before now. But honestly-“

He pauses, lowering his helm, shuttering his optics, and vacuuming the powder into his nostril with a soft grunt that sounds the way satin feels. “-you’ve proven to be more of an antidote, haven’t you?”

He lowers the tube and your hands, sniffling incessantly and turning wide, owlishly blinking optics toward the ceiling. At a loss for words, you don’t comment further. Somewhat because that last line was capable of scooping up someone 3 tiers out of your league at any club, alien or no. But mostly because the expression he makes, clutching the side of his face, optics half-shuttered and biting softly into the plush of his metal lips, grants the realization that out-of-your-league someone owns the lap you’re currently sitting in.

Starscream is attractive. You’ve witnessed literally everyone on the ship looking for too long when he walks away, bends over, or puts the "Airplane” in Airplane man and takes off into the stratosphere. And like many ‘isms blessed with their race’s beauty standards by default, he’s also prideful. You doubt he wants anyone beyond the CMO to know he has injuries or pain he’s forced to medicate for. That you do know paints the picture you’ve just witnessed something fairly vulnerable. A vulnerability he’d not only allowed you to see, but trusted you to participate in. Since he trusts everyone in his faction about as well as you do(which, beyond Soundwave and Lazerbeak, is no one), your mutual lack thereof functions a bit like an olive branch.

This whole setup is an olive branch, actually. He’d not only not asked why, but nearly jumped at the opportunity to give you lessons, then dosed out anxiety medication he keeps on hand for you specifically, and was comfortable enough to eat nose candy out of your hands without a second thought. Comfortable enough to leave you lounging against his chassis with his arm slung over your shoulder. To absentmindedly thread his talons through the strands of hair that falls at the nape of your neck. To guide you to the epiphany that, while your attempts to expose the fleshie-fragger your guardians had spoken of hadn’t yielded fruit, they had unintentionally narrowed your search down to a razor-thin line.

A line so thin, perhaps, it could only be traversed by stilettos. Like the ones attached to the disgustingly handsome SIC languidly rolling himself out from under you, getting to his feet, and offering his servo to help you do the same.

"Oh god, it might be Starscream." You think, dawning horror and trepidation freezing in your veins like ice as you take his offered servo and allow yourself to be pulled upright.

“Oh god-” you think again, horror and trepidation thawing to exhilaration as he leads you to the pole, servo squeezing your hand not enough to cause discomfort, but too tightly to ignore. ”-it might be Starscream.”

[eikaprime]

M4rie

Another day, another day to ship Agent 4 with one of the Splatoon Idols. You can find this on AO3, or read the full text under the cut.

This is the second of six idol fics; the first, C4llie, can be found HERE or as Ch. 1 on the AO3 link.

M4rie

Art is not a waste of time. Prism folds up the latest letter from her parents (she stopped answering their phone calls weeks ago) and jams it in her pocket. She'll write back later, when she's not ready to spit at them.

Rent is due again tomorrow. So much for buying paints. She's keeping the lights on and eating ramen two meals a day, but what hurts is not being able to buy any paints. And with the Great Zapfish gone, electricity prices are rising. She's gonna need more.

This is depressing. She grabs her sketchbook (the last one she came here with, all the others are full and she can't afford more and this one's more than half full already, no don't think about it) and her favorite drawing pencil and hops a bus to the square. There, she spends a couple coins on a soda, sits in her favorite chair, and waits.

The elegant inkling is there again.

She's so pretty...

Prism sits with her phone on the table and sketchbook in front of her, using her phone so it doesn't look like she's staring. The umbrella. The kimono. Her white tentacles, tied back from her face; the red ribbon, dangling by one ear. She shades with quick, careful lines, and sits back at last.

It's not good enough. Prism glances from the page to the gorgeous inkling and back. It's never good enough, to capture how pretty she is. And she's always standing there, every time Prism comes back to the square. She must be waiting for someone.

She's probably already in a relationship. With a guy. A tall, strong, handsome inkling with short blue tentacles swept back in an elegant updo, with muscles that stand out beneath his tight shirt and a smile on his face as he leaves Grizzco. He probably gives her a quick kiss while she fake whines about salmonid slime and, after he takes a shower, they go out to dinner together and talk about their days. He's planning to propose next month.

Prism doesn't stand a chance.

The beautiful inkling smiles, and Prism realizes she's been staring. Oh cod. Her whole face burns and she looks away, fast, then back.

The beautiful inkling twirls her umbrella, winks, and... vanishes?

If that's not an invitation, Prism doesn't know what is. She jams her phone in her pocket and tucks her sketchbook under one arm, hurrying over. The beautiful inkling... was standing on a sewer drain. And swam down it.

Well, let it never be said that Prism backs down from a challenge.

~~~~

So, the beautiful inkling is named Marie, she thinks she's famous the way a lot of beautiful people think they are, and she's a secret agent. And now so is Prism, because she can't afford another energy bill. And also, because there are some really cool things to draw.

It's almost lunch time, so Prism takes a break. She sits on the railing by the superjump pad in Suction Cup Lookout and pulls out her new sketchbook, improvised from the insides of the envelopes her parents use when they write to her. A tree, the base and roots invisible, wrapped in a tentacle. The tentacle supports it; it grows from it. But it also traps the tree, away from the mountains on all sides...

“Distracted?”

Prism drops her pencil and almost falls off the railing trying to grab it; a strong hand grabs her hero suit.

“Let it go. It's just a pencil.”

“It's my last one,” Prism says, trying not to whine. She swings her legs back to the safe side of the railing, sketchbook folded and back in her pocket.

“It's just a pencil,” Marie repeats. She has a picnic basket hooked over one arm, the picture of elegance, and opens it. She offers Prism a sandwich. “Your favorite, tuna with lemon and garlic.”

Prism accepts the sandwich. She doesn't remember telling Marie her favorite sandwich, but it is. “Not just a pencil,” she says. “My last good drawing pencil.” She bites into her sandwich and almost moans. Cod, Marie must be a goddess. The goddess of sandwiches.

“Oh,” Marie says. “Sorry.” She bites into her own sandwich. When she chews, a smear of mustard on her cheek, she almost looks like a normal inkling, instead of a goddess. She swallows and asks, “What makes it a drawing pencil? Why is it your last?”

“They're expensive,” she says. “Good art things are graded, you can get lighter or darker lines with them. I usually stick to the H-level pencils.” She takes another bite of her amazing sandwich. “The lower numbered H's are great for sketches, and the higher numbers don't show through paints.”

Marie crouches over the picnic basket and emerges with two bottles of fizzy limeade. “You paint?”

Oh. “Yeah.” Prism finishes her sandwich and lays down on the railing, looking at the sky. She'd have to mix three or four different colors to match this shade. “I mean, not lately. Haven't been able to afford anything better than those squit packs for kiddies at the shell store. But we'll get zappy back, and prices will go down, and I'll manage.”

“I guess that explains why you main brush,” Marie says, and Prism sits up fast. “I've watched some of your matches. You're pretty good.” She smiles crookedly. “Could be great if you'd stop drawing on the ground all the time.”

“Hey, what's the point of a turf war if you can't draw hearts all over the base?” Prism asks.

Marie laughs. Prism hasn't heard her laugh before.

Marie has a pretty laugh.

~~~

Prism surfaces from the octoshower with a zapfish tucked under her arms and has to stop just to look at the sky. The stars are out; she's been down there for a while.

Marie's still crying over the headset.

A sigh rises through Prism, starting in her toes and leaving her empty. Callie, Agent 1, is down there. And Prism is up here.

Just a replacement.

Well, someone's gotta do it. And if she could tell her parents, at least they'd think this is worthwhile.

Prism gets a better grip on Little Zap-Zap and superjumps back to the canyon. There's a zapfish cage, all prepped and ready to go, by the bench; Prism places Little Zap-Zap inside. Listening to Marie like this feels wrong, feels like intruding, but she can't just go inside, so she turns off her headset and sets that on the cage... then sits down and looks up.

Stars. So many stars. The night sky isn't black, not really. Prism strains her eyes for the color she knows is there. In the shadows around the stars is the deepest blue, a blue that can suck you in and swallow you and make you feel like nothing matters. It's a blue she's never managed to make, no matter how she mixed her paints.

She doesn't know how long she sits there before the door opens. “Callie and I used to look at the stars together,” Marie says, her voice clogged.

“I never had anyone to look at them with,” Prism says.

“No one?”

Prism shrugs. “Some people make close friends, some people just... don't. I always had kids to hang out with at recess, and partners for field trips, and wasn't chosen last in gym or anything. And people showed up for my birthday and I got invited to a lot of parties. But I wasn't the inkblot others wanted on a sleepover, or to go to an amusement park, or anything.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“I guess?” She forces a laugh, her eyes on the sky. “I mean, from everything I know, you and Callie grew up together. Hard to say if you were best friends or squiblings, but either way, I never had that. How can you miss what you never had?”

“You must think I'm silly,” Marie mutters. “But Callie's... she's...”

“I do miss it,” Prism says.

Marie makes a tiny gasping noise, and she grabs Prism's shoulder, turning her until Prism's looking Marie straight in the eye. One of Prism's heart stops, because it's just not fair that Marie is so pretty, even with the skin around her eyes the slightest bit green from crying so hard. “You what?”

“I had my paints,” Prism said. “I had the television, and Blob Ross, and sneaking onto the roof to paint the landscape and I knew I was liked. But everyone else just, they all had someone who made them happier than they were alone. I used to wish I could have that, just once.” She turns away from Marie and gets to her feet, because this is a bit too personal. “But no use wishing for what you can't have! Come on, boss. You said the final area was Slimeskin Garrison, right?” Prism grabs her headset again. “Betcha I can find all the kettles before sunrise.”

Marie's jaw drops open and her eyes widen. It's the first time Prism's seen her speechless, and it makes her smile. She pulls on her headset and turns squid, ready to superjump, when Marie grabs her tentacle.

When Prism reforms, Marie's holding her hand. And she doesn't let go. And Prism tries not to read into it, but guppies, the prettiest inkling to ever ink is holding her hand.

“Don't go tonight,” Marie says. “Go home. You need to rest.”

“But Callie—”

“I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

~~~

The night after Callie's return is the best clam sleep of Prism's life. Or at least the past two weeks, since she basically moved into the Canyon Hut. Which, once she gets to her kitchen, is a problem.

She's completely out of food. And she left her sketchbooks there.

Shoot.

Well, it's—she checks the clock, oh g-zap, eleven in the morning, she really did oversleep. She'll get dressed, pop into the canyon for the couple outfits and the sketchbook she left there, grab breakfast at whatever cafe and turf until she's got enough for groceries.

That plan lasts until she pushes open the cabin door to find Callie and Marie sitting at the table, scrambled eggs in front of them both, and is stunned for a moment just how gorgeous Marie is with her tentacles tangled and sleep in her eyes. “Oh, you're Agent Four!” Callie says, getting to her feet. She hesitates a step away, then offers Prism a hand to shake. “We never made it back to Inkopolis last night, just too worn out, and I need to thank you.”

Prism shakes her hand. “Don't need any thanks, I'm happy to help,” she says. “Sorry, I kinda left some things here, and I need to grab them.”

“Oh, like your sketchbook? Your drawings are excellent!”

Prism stops dead, hand still mid-shake. “You looked at them?”

“Well, yeah.” Callie laughs and lets go of Prism's hand. “It was open on the table. You're a really good artist. And,” she leans close, “it seems to me that—”

“Callie.” Prism's never heard Marie use that tone before.

Callie giggles. “I just wanted to say, there were an awful lot of drawings of—”

“Cal!”

Just let Prism die right here. She wishes the cracks in the floor were big enough to slip through in squid form, and then she could slip into the earth, right through the Octarian bases, down and down until the earth swallows her.

Callie laughs again, but Marie's on her feet, pushing past Callie. “Here's your pajamas, and your sweatshirt, and both pairs of jeans and those t-shirts you wore, I washed it all,” she says, holding a bundle of clothes in her hands. “Thank you very much for stopping by I'm gonna get Callie settled back into the routine and take her to the doctor and crud howsabout you come back next week and we can do some recon just to make sure things are okay now bye!” She shoves the bundle into Prism's hands and keeps pushing, making Prism take a stumbling step back, out the door.

Prism knows when she's not wanted. Marie missed her cousin, they must have a lot to catch up on, between whatever torture Callie went through under the hypnoshades and Marie's new radio show. Prism turns to go, only to feel something hard in the bundle of clothes.

She peels away the top layer of clothes to find four sketchbooks, new. The barcode's been peeled off the plastic holding each one, tearing it, but Prism knows what they cost, she never goes for this brand they're too expensive they're too good. One of them's even the stiff tougher paper meant to hold paints, watercolors, even though Prism never told Marie the types of paints she used. And four individual brushes, H quality, each a different number.

Prism clutches the precious bundle to her chest and does not cry over it.

~~~

It takes Prism a month of patrols—of careful glances, of sketches of the landscape as cover, of refusing to stare at that crooked smile—for Prism to get a good drawing of Marie, not just a sketch. She thinks Callie knows, Callie's looked at her and giggled a few too many times, but she's also asked Marie just the right questions to make her laugh when Prism's got the sketchbook out. The final drawing she carefully, carefully transfers onto the sheet of canvas she splurged on, the one on sale for having a dented corner, and pulls out the tempura paints that are the best she can afford right now.

She captures Marie's kimono, the way it drapes and folds when she's leaning back on the bench. She captures Marie's parasol, carelessly dangling from one hand, almost to the ground. She captures the curve of Marie's neck. She spends hours mixing colors to get her tentacles just right, the way one half-fell from their bow the time she drew it, and the ribbon brushing her forehead. She even captures that cute little mole she'd like to kiss.

Marie, frozen in mid-laugh, her crooked smile wide and her eyes closed.

She wants to give it to Marie. She wants to ask Marie out. But if she's wrong... that could ruin everything.

But Prism is not a coward. She moved to Inkopolis by herself and she's a secret agent and a salmon run profreshional. She's started calling her parents again and only hangs up when they start talking about how she should be an accountant. Or a lawyer. Or whatever squit they want this time.

Besides, it'd be kinda creepy to have this on her wall. It's not some celebrity, this is her friend. And...

But when the time comes, Prism can't look. She desquids in the canyon on her day off, clutching the painting wrapped in brown paper, and walks over and shoves it in her hands "I made this, I hope you like it" and turns to run.

Only for a hand to catch the back of her shirt.

"And you don't wanna see me open it?"

Prism swallows down her fear. She doesn't answer, but when Marie tugs her shirt again, she turns around.

Callie's got the biggest grin on her face, and Prism looks away. She looks at the ground, her whole head the lilac of her ink and burning, as Marie unwraps the paper.

The silence when she sees what Prism made stretches forever. "I'm sorry," she says. "I, uh, I guess it's creepy, or,"

Marie grabs Prism's shirt, pulls her close, and kisses her. Smack on the mouth, the sort of kiss Prism's dreamed of for months, and she's too stunned to kiss back at first.

Only when Marie pulls away does Prism remember, and her burning face doesn't matter, because maybe she will get to kiss that cute little mole. "W-would you like to go for a picnic tomorrow?"

"Yes," Marie says. "I would. I'll—”

"FINALLY!" shouts Callie. "Cod, I was starting to think I'd need to get you together myself!"

[unnursvanablog]

While the premise of When the Phone Rings sounded decent enough I was mostly tuning in for the cast as I do enjoy both Chae Soo Bin and Yoo Yeon Seok and the thought of a political thriller about a kidnapping sounded decent enough. I was however expecting a much more straight forward, action-thriller like 24 (the American tv show) but instead a got much more of an intense melodrama with a plot twists that I did not see coming. And it hooked me right in.

It also helps that Chae Soo Bin and Yoo Yeon Seok do have very good chemistry and the character dynamic is interesting enough between them that I am quite excited already about them eventually making out, but I can also tell that I am going to enjoy the buildup and the intensity of that all very much. At least judging by these two episodes.

The first episode did take a while to get going as we are sort of introducing the characters at their repesctive works and they don't start interacting with each other until quite late in the episode which was frustrating but it did work well for the story, so I get why it was set up like that. This isn't a loving marriage and no one even knows that they are married so it makes sense. But I do think the chemistry of the two leads is strong enough that the story does sort of gets into place when they are on screen together and we really see that odd, cold but intesne couple interaction which is just so intriguing.

Even if the sort of arranged marriage couple plot does feel very melodramatic and soapy and is very often used when you are dealing with these wealthy and very influential families in kdramas. It's nothing new, but I do tend to enjoy it in a drama form and it does feel refreshing because it's not in a romcom sense where the family wants to arrange a marriage but then the ceo son falls in love with a commoner which has started to get tiresome even if some dramas do manage to spin it in a fun way. This is very melodramatic and I enjoy it.

Baek Sa Eon has a darkness within him or sort of anger that seems to be bubbling under the very sort of cold and composed surfice (especially with his family secrets and all) and I do think he is very calculated with everything which I find very intriguing but the very quiet and meek Hong Hee Joo which seems to have operated all her life as if to not be a bother to anyone which then, once she is almost kidnapped, decides to trick her husband into thinking someone is trying to blackmail him and threatning him with her. When you hear her speaking on the phone in the bathroom… oh that was a good hook. That made me audiably gasp and sit straighter in my seat. Hong Hee Joo is the start of the show.

But she is also kinda clumsy at it… so I do worry for her. And she is accidentally getting herself involved in some scary organization… because that phone was used by a man that tried to kidnap her for real, but that is all part of the plot. It's going to get messy and I just hope it will be entertaining to watch.

I do think that while she is convinced that she is doing this out of frustration and wanting him to divorce her (because she can't do it due to marriage contract ala evil rich family stuff) I also think she is doing it because she wants to rail him up. She wants to see some reaction from him. Deep inside I think she wants to test if he actually gives a shit about her, but she isn't ready to admit that to him. Because she did try at the beginning of their marriage to make it sort of work but he pushed her away.

because the first time they have actually had a conversation is through those phone calls. It's such an interesting dynamic. And through that messed up way of communicating they are going to realize that they actually love each other. Because the man is already jealous, possessive in his cold-hearted and rude way and doesn't actually want to loose her. Oh this is going to be a makjang madness, high drama level stuff mess, but please let it be in a good way.

It a fun sport of soapy melodrama with some messy people and it looks like it might be quite entertaining. I really enjoyed myself with these two episodes.

I do not care about the secondary romance that they have started to hint at… at all. That felt like a jolt in the pacing in episode two.

[chacaillejdr]

How to write a TTRPG scenario ?

As a TTRPG campaign author, I’ve struggled for years to write scenarios that were coherent, that would not be derailed by players nor would force them onto rails, and that would allow escapism while keeping them hooked. I fumbled a lot until I found a method that I found quite efficient. So I thought I’d share. Of course, what works for one might not for another, but if you’re a beginner in TTRPG scenario writing and you don’t know where to start, well, you never know, this might help you.

The first phase is of course to make a rough draft. Just pour in a text document every single idea you have, without any filter : characters, cool scenes, story twists, gameplay elements… take your time, let your mind work in the background. Then organize every item, see what works with what, what would make sense in a chronological way… and fill the holes between the elements. This would give you a first draft of your scenario, something that should fill about two pages (regardless of whether your scenario is a one-shot or a full campaign).

At this point, the most adventurous GM would have enough material to start an improvised game. This requires a very specific skillset and a lot of memory. You do you, but at this point, I’ve only just started my preparations.

If you want to keep enriching your scenario, you’ll find yourself facing two issues : first, the more structure you have, the less freedom you’ll leave your players, because you have your “canon” on what should happen in your story ; and second you might miss holes in your scenario that your player will certainly have a lot of joy (or confusion) pointing out in the middle of a game. So here’s the trick. Find who is the main antagonist in your story (whether it’s a Dark Lord or your rival in the Most Beautiful Garden Contest, if your RPG is not a sandbox you will have an antagonistic force, else your players won’t have much to do…). Now re-write your scenario, from A to Z, but FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE ANTAGONIST, as if the players were not here, or were naive enough to fall into every single trap. Why ? To deal with both your issues at the same time of course ! On the one hand you can’t control your players’ decisions, but you can do it for your NPCs, so you CAN place your antagonist on rails and compensate every time they go astray without impeding on your players’ freedom. On the other hand, by writing out the details of your antagonist’s dastardly plan, you increase your chances to see a blatant error or omission and correct it.

Once this is done, you’ll want to identify the key elements of this plan, those that your villain absolutely need, else their objectives crumble. Those will be your “fixed points”. Your mission as a GM is to ensure that these fixed points happen no matter what your players do, in order to guide them along your main scenario. The remainder of the plan will be your “mobile points”, which your players will have way more control over. This will create a structure for your story, and you can complete the scenario with the mobile points, leaving as much freedom to your PCs as you want in them.

There’s one last task before you finish your story. Now that you have every step of your scenario, maybe even a division into chapters using the fixed points, you can do three lists : 

the places your players will visit

the NPCs they will meet

the lore elements they’ll have to learn

Using these three lists, you’ll be able to re-write one last time your whole scenario. Now you’ll have a rich story, with a way more formidable antagonistic force, and more freedom for your players.

You can totally start your campaign using these documents, using the three lists as reminders

Of course, if you’re like me and you like to Plan Out Everything in advance, you’re only at the beginning of your work : every place, every NPC, every fixed and mobile point will need their own detailed page ; and some more elements will need detailing. But we’ll talk more about it in a future article, so stay tuned !

[matchadobo]

KIDD; n/sfw alphabet

warnings: afab reader, n/sfw 🔞, read at your own discretion

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- if you two are casual fuck buddies, no aftercare whatsoever. after sex, he gives a lil pillowtalk like how crazy that felt or how good your ass looks and that's it. he sees you out or he leaves first thing in the morning, oftentimes a few hours after you two finish in the middle of the night. he's cruel like that 😞

- however, if you two are together he'll be very hesitant about aftercare. don't get him wrong, he wants to take care of you! he just doesn't know how to. he'll hug you tight when you crawl into his arms, he'll get you some water and maybe spill some on himself 😭 bc of trying to hurry to you, he'll give you shoulder kisses or tummy rubs to soothe the impending numbness/pain after the deed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- i believe it's a unanimous legislation between the eustass kidd organization that he is 100% ass man through and through

- loves your ass more than anything, he never misses on squeezing, kneading, biting, and smacking that CAKE

- your cheeks will always be red or often have handprints of his

- favorite part on his OWN is his dick obvi, mf so proud of it he'd flaunt it if he can

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he REVERES the look of his seed dripping on your cunt, how it gapes and the cum just spills when you tighten it

- loves to cum on you and in you (if you allow it ofc)

- loves to see how his length and your cunt is coated by your interspersing cum as it penetrates in and out of you as he rams into you

D = Dirty secret/s (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- loves to masturbate to you when he's all alone he just imagines how you look during the act, especially when you're overstimulated and can't articulate anything other than how good he fills you up

- additionally, sometimes he thinks about how it'd be like when you two went at it and people are watching how he rails you. it immediately makes him go hard

- or that time where he saw you and killer in that one hot summer afternoon, clothes as thin and short as ever, sweaty and skins plush from the heat, his hair tied in a bun and so is yours, you two sat by the bar with both of your arms leaning by the counter. something in him awakened

- or that one time you suggested pegging to him and he never stopped thinking about considering it. he always took the reigns during sex, but he thought that it wouldn't be so bad to be under your command? it'd be hot. but of course, he'd have to die before he admits that

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- i believe he sleeps around here and there, hook-ups are not a regular thing since he is really driven on his journey. he's not that horny unless he sees a stranger he's genuinely attracted to. which is very rare.

- however, i also have this headcanon whispering in the back of my mind that he is NOT EXPERIENCED. i mean, he's waaaay too busy pillaging villages and terrorizing cities. plus, he has a one track mind where he aims to be the pirate king so sex never really crossed his mind. so you became his teacher in this field, teaching him new fantasies he never thought he had

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- easily reverse cowgirl,full view on that BAKERY gets him cumming immediately. seeing how your ass bounces and how it repeatedly lands on his abdomen always leaves him muttering curses of pleasure

- how you look back at him with that flushed face and lustful eyes as he plays with your cheeks, hands fixated on them as he bucks his hips upward

- he relishes on how you sometimes do all the work yourself, putting his arm behind his head as he watches you fuck yourself in his length. loving the show entirely

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- he teases, degrades, and mocks you a lot

- "whaddya say earlier? somethin' about having your way with me? who's beggin' for it now, aye?"

- "tellin' me to shut up now? i'm not the one moanin' like an animal in heat for the past hours, hm?"

- "i'll go harder if you keep glarin' at me like that."

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- BOY IS IT WILD IN THERE

- carpet does match the drapes

- he doesn't groom it, happy trail is deliciously flourishing

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- at first when you two screwed at the first night you two got together, he genuinely got romantic

- now if we know eustass kidd, romantic and he does not go well in a sentence. but starting that one night; he looked at you differently, he kissed you more than usual, he carried you more delicately despite fucking you rough, and he held your hand more

- but ofc if it was some angry-make up-sex or sorry-sex or whatever sort, he rarely becomes romantic

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- for the most part, he prefers it better when you jack him off 😏

- but back when his feelings for you were still blurry to him and he refused to accept it. no matter how much he shuts each filthy thought of you down, he couldn't suppress the fact that he finds you so fucking sexy he'd have to excuse himself to fix the tent in his pants

- he'd then go to his quarters and beat the shit outta that meat as he thinks about each and every thing he finds hot about you: like how your comebacks are even wittier and sharper, how toe to toe you are with him with each spar and those moments where your sweaty bodies are pressed together as your pants chorused with his, how you carry yourself when fighting alongside with him, or each time an article of clothing shows a vast amount of skin he often couldn't control himself like that one time you wore the shortest dress on a particular feast the crew celebrated

- the more he suppresses it, the more often he finds every little thing you do irresistible

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- into choking, biting, and hair pulling a lot

- during the afternoons where he feels quite spicy, he'd put a buttplug on you and enjoy how you twist in pleasure as you try to hold it in publicly while doing your day to day task. this bastard does not hold back when it comes to this

- he likes it when you call him captain in bed, makes his heart go crazy

- uses his ability to keep you in place as he rams into you, developing cuffs or some shit

- i also think he has breeding kink?? i mentioned in the letter c that he is

- cockwarming too, since you love cuddling so much he takes advantage of the opportunity and keeps his dick warm inside you. it's quite intimate and he always loves how he fits right in

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- his workshop, he found out how sexy it was to see you sprawled in his worktable with your ass up

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- as i've mentioned in the favorite body part, the shape of your ass really does it for him. so when you were tight bottoms whether it be skirt, shorts, or pants his eyes and hands will never leave that

- the sultry tone of your voice could also be a factor, if you feel spicy and suddenly brush your fingers on his bare chest or arms he'd instantly shift gears and pepper your neck with wet kisses

- your cheeky glances may trigger the lust in him too. the way he'd catch your eye as you studied him up and down as you wet your lips. god he'll hold your gaze for so long you'll start to take matters in your own hands and yank him to the nearest secluded place

- but overall, kidd is an easy partner. dangle a wee bit of you before him and you got him, all ready and down for it

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- threesome (maybe his bestfriend has an exception on this winkhonk), i see him as a very greedy man. he would want what's his to be only his

- i feel like roleplays are also a nono, since i have a hunch that he'd be very embarrased to play a part 😭

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- receiving for sure, he always looks forward to you giving him a head. always fucking so deep in your throat and cumming inside

- but he also loves when you treat his face like a throne and he smothers his face in you, he loves how your thighs tremble and how your ass feels in his hands during the act

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- fast and rough for sure! he always leaves you breathless and loves to go hard from the start

- but the slow and sensual thing only rarely happens, when he feels particularly romantic

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- ooooh quickies are his FAVORITE. the idea of ripping your clothes off during times when you weren't supposed to have sex and the thought of maybe someon walking in on you always appease to his fantasies

- when you two exchange that knowing glance and either one of you makes the first move and heads to a secluded place then you two'll start going at it mercilessly

- it happens A LOT

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- i have a feeling that this is a yes as long as he can rail you, sigh this man is easy like that

- in terms of experimenting, there is sometimes a foreboding feeling to him that you'll mention pegging 😭 but any other risks like fucking publicly or unprotected sex (w/ ur consent ofc) that kinda stuff he's always down

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- could go from evening upto sunrise, this man is so wild for you

- would often tease you at how you get so overstimulated quickly because boy he's just getting started

- "damn shorty already? i gotta train you to go on for longer than that."

- eventually, you were able to go on par with him from the amount of times he becomes horny

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- as mention in the letter k, he likes using a buttplug on you. it's just pure ecstacy for him when he sees you squirm at just a flick of his finger

- other than that, i think kidd will allow it if you want to but he prefers to use his own arsenal and not any outside factors. he gets off better when he gets you off on his own rather than use toys

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- he always rubs his length between your sopping folds, always watching how you bite your lip impatiently and grip the sheets so angrily

- sometimes when you want him to go harder or faster, he does the complete opposite and watch how you almost beg him to do what you ask him to. he enjoys how you claw at his chest from the sudden stop

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- i believe he growls a lot, a rough grunter but doesn't actually scream a lot. mostly guttural

- unless he reaches his climax, he'd have no shame moaning so loud. he's having good ass pussy why would he be quiet about it? is his philosophy

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- each time the first stretch come in, he always pushes himself so deep inside and makes sure to touch the tip of your cervix as he watches how crazy it drives you (if u read 'the captain's madam' then ykyk 😉)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- REALISTICALLY SPEAKING i believe he has a solid 8" length and the girth has a 2"-3" diameter

- curves to the left

- has two prominent veins on either side

- no loose tips here! has a really pink head. it's so cute you always kiss it and each time you do, it twitches and he grows a lil shy

- a shower ofc

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- so very high you often couldn't keep up

- he always wants to go at it at full force

- a very dtf person, when you're horny even if he is in the middle of something he'll immediately be on the same page as you

- he'd always be the one to initiate tho

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- i don't think he really falls asleep immediately, he just acts like it and often avoid you in the earlier times

- but he changed now and would always entertain your pillowtalks especially when you two talk about your dreams together

- this is a secret, well atleast he thought you wouldn't notice, but he waits for you to sleep before he does bc he knows how loud he snores and how likely it'd cause you trouble when you try to sleep 🥺

[siderealscribblings]

This beastie is 13k words; here's an appetizer until I get it properly portioned

_____________

“A-Apologies, Madam; I-I think the bell is stuck somehow.” 

Yae Miko wasn’t terribly upset that she had been locked out on the surface while taking a break from the claustrophobic ballroom, but like all kitsune she had an insatiable urge to mess with mortals. And so as the attendant scrambled to get the bell working, she continued to glare at him as though every second she spent outside was the most insulting thing she had experienced in her entire life. 

“I am going to give you until the count of three to summon that wretched contraption and then-” Miko trailed off as a familiar figure came  hustling down the dock flanked by two gardes. “Oh, here comes M. Neuvillette now. What did you say your name was again? I’d like to be thorough in my report.” 

“Lady Yae?” Neuvillette asked, dismissing his escort with a nod as the panicked bell attendant jumped headfirst in the water to avoid the Iudex’s wrath unstick the diving bell from the bottom of the lake. “Why aren’t you downstairs with the rest of the party?” 

“You first,” Miko said, leaning against the railing as she watched the diving bell rise from the depths below. 

Can this woman not give a straight answer? Neuvillette thought. “I was…attending to some business at the Opera.” 

“Oh, that business with the archer?” Miko asked. “I thought you would have handed that off to someone else.” 

“No…I thought I would ensure it was properly investigated,” Neuvillette said, narrowing his eyes at Miko. “How do you know about that?” 

“People talk, I listen,” Miko said with a toothy smile. “People also say that a very large pack of gardes escorted an adeptus to the Opera. I hope you were ensuring Miss Cloud Retainer got to her opera box unharmed.” 

I swear this bloody nation is populated entirely by gossips, Neuvillette thought. “Madam Cloud Retainer was invited to tour the Opera’s private chambers by the Archon herself. I think she left in high spirits, though a bit disappointed that her request to examine the Oratrice was declined.” 

“Wise move; I know her to be one of Rex Lapis’ little gems and I shudder to think what would happen if he thought you were imprisoning her,” Miko said, hand over her heart in a gesture of mock indignation. 

“Thankfully, we will not have an opportunity to find out,” Neuvillette said. At least not for what happened to Cloud Retainer.

Neuvillette had spent the better part of an hour studying the men’s bodies as much as he could without disturbing their corpses, scanning them with Hydro for any clues to what killed them. As he feared, their organs had ruptured and melted into slurry as the Primordial water pulsed through them. They weren’t Fontish, so they were still in one piece, though Neuvillette worried the slightest prick would burst them like balloons. 

“So if you were not interrogating our friend from Liyue, what were you doing?” Miko asked. “Your Archon seemed very anxious about your whereabouts during dinner. I’m afraid we ate without you, but in Lady Furina’s defense she was locked underwater with a few hundred people who have never missed so much as a tea time in their lives.” 

“I don’t mind,” Neuvillette shrugged. “Work took a little longer than usual; I wouldn’t want anyone to starve on my account.” 

“You don’t mind eating scraps after everyone else has eaten their fill?” Miko clucked. “You are a good servant, aren’t you?” 

“...thank you?” Neuvillette said, though her compliment sounded almost like an insult. “Social gatherings are more Lady Furina’s speed so I’m happy to let her handle them.” 

“Quite the pair you make,” Miko said. “I’m sure she adequately rewards you for your diligent service, doesn’t she?” 

There was a barb to each question that hooked itself in Neuvillette on the way out, each probing remark irritating him more than the last as she seemed to be driving at something. “I’m comfortable.” 

“Comfortable spending your immortal existence catering to an Archon’s whims?” Miko said, studying his face carefully. “...I believe you are. Life under an Archon’s wing is a comfortable existence, isn’t it? Lacking certain freedoms but such is the life of a god’s favorite pet.” 

Pet? Neuvillette’s lip curled at this, the gesture seemingly amusing Miko. “I have heard the Inazuman dialect is an indirect one…in Fontaine we value forthrightness.” 

“Liar; there isn’t a nation in the world that values directness as much as it claims to,” Miko said as the panicked diving bell attendant resurfaced riding the bell to the dock. 

“S-Sorry to keep you waiting, ma’am,” the attendant stammered, opening the door to the padded diving bell. “P-Please enjoy yourselves!” 

“Thank you,” Neuvillette said, watching as the attendant flinched away from him as he entered the bell. The tight brass elevator was big enough for two people and soon Miko’s cloying sakura scent filled the cramped cell as the attendant sealed them in and launched the bell back into the lake. 

“Then let me be forthright since you insist so fiercely,” Miko said, watching Neuvillette’s back as he deliberately stared out the window. “As someone who wasted too much of her life devoted to an Archon, you should take care that your devotion doesn't consume you. You might wake up one day and find that the love between gods and their subjects flows one way.” 

“It sounds like you have had a bad experience,” Neuvillette grumbled. “I am sorry for your misfortune, but please do not presume to know of my relationship with Lady Furina.” 

“I don’t need to presume,” Miko sniffed. “Anyone who gets close to a star inevitably gets pulled into its orbit. It’s natural to be drawn to great power and beauty…I’d be surprised if you weren’t devoted to her. But- ”

“But what?” Neuvillette snapped, finally turning to face her. “Did it ever occur to you that Lady Furina and I have similar goals? That we might want the same thing regardless of any devotion?” 

“Your goal is to help her rule the country that used to be yours?” Miko asked. “Do you really have no pride?” 

“Plenty; I just choose to spend it wisely,” Neuvillette sniffed. “She aims to save this country from its prophesied doom; I aim to do the same.” 

“The last I saw your lady, she was aiming herself at the snack table and enjoying the company of diplomats from Snezhnaya while you were attending to her business,” Miko sighed as the bell slid into the ballroom’s underwater port. “But perhaps I don’t know what I’m talking about…after all, I’m sure you're nothing like Dvalin. Or that troublesome dragon Rex Lapis locked away once he became too much of an inconvenience.” 

“Dragon?” Neuvillette asked. “What-” 

The bell lurched to a stop, the door popping open and letting the warm light of the ballroom in. 

“Your Archon hasn’t told you?” Miko said with an infuriatingly placid smile as she climbed out of the diving bell into the warm, buzzing lights that laced the roof of the glass dome. “How unusual…well, enjoy what’s left of the party.” 

Just as quickly as she arrived, Miko disappeared, dissolving into the throng of onlookers and leaving Neuvillette stewing in impotent irritation. 

[wirewitchviolet]

How a Computer Works - Part 3 (Miniaturization and Standardization)

For anyone just joining in, I'm writing a series of posts explaining perhaps haphazardly all there is to know about how a computer works, from the most basic fundamental circuitry components to whatever level of higher functionality I eventually get to. As explained in the first post on this subject, I am doing this just in pure text, so that if you are inclined you can straight up print these posts out or narrate them onto some audio tape or whatever and have full access to them should every computer in the world suddenly collapse into a pile of dust or something. Part 1 mainly covered the basic mechanical principles of circuitry and how to physically construct a logic gate. Part 2 covered logic gates in detail and how to use them to create a basic working architecture for a general purpose computer. Today we're going to be talking more about what you're looking at when you crack a machine open so you can make sense of all the important fiddly bits and have maybe a starting point on how to troubleshoot things with a multimeter or something.

Before getting into it though, I do have to shake my little donation can again and remind you that I do not know how I am going to get through the winter without becoming homeless, so if this is valuable to you, I'd appreciate some help.

Boards of Bread and Printed Circuits

With the things I've explained so far, you could totally build a computer right now, but it'd be a bit messy. You can totally buy resistors, transistors, capacitors, and diodes by the bagful for basically nothing, and cheap rolls of insulated wire, but there's all these long exposed pins to cut short and soldering things in mid-air is a messy nightmare and you'd just have this big tangle of wires in a bag or something that would almost certainly short out on you. So let's look into ways to organize stuff a little.

If you start playing around with electronics on your own, one of the first things you want to hook yourself up with besides raw components and wires is a breadboard or 12. And if you're watching people explain these things with visual aids, you'll also see a lot of them, so it's good to know exactly what they are and how they work. Your standard breadboard is a brick of plastic with a bunch of little holes in it. Incidentally, the name comes from how the first ones were literally just named after the wooden cutting boards for slicing bread people recycled to make them. Inside these holes there's some pinching bits of conductive metal which connect to each other in a particular way (pretty sure you can just see the strips that connect one if you pry the bottom off), so you can just jam a thing wire or prong into a hole, have it held in place, and make a connection to every other hole its connected to on the other side.

There is a ton of standardization to all of this. The holes should always be 0.1 inches apart () and split into two big grids. Everyone I've ever seen has 63 rows, each with 5 holes labeled A-E, a shallow channel through the middle of the board, and then another 5, F-J, and we generally have numbers printed every 5 rows. Down underneath, for any given row, the set of 5 pins on each side of the channel are connected. So, holes 1A, 1B, 1C, 1D, and 1E are all connected to each other, and nothing else. Holes 1F, 1G, 1H, 1I, and 1J are also connected to each other. There's no connection though between 1E and 1F, or 1A and 2A.

Most breadboards will also have a couple of "power rails" along the sides. These are just going to be labeled with a long red line and +, and a long blue or black line and -, and have holes in 2x5 blocks staggered out. With these, all 25 or 50 or whatever holes near the red + line connect with each other, and all the ones near the black line connect with each other. The gaps every 5 holes don't serve any purpose beyond looking different enough from the big grid so you hopefully don't mix it up and forget that these ones all connect down the length, and not in in little clumps across the width like everything else. The idea, for the sake of convention, is you plug a wire connected directly to the positive side of your battery or DC adapter or whatever into any red line hole, the negative side to any blue/black hole, and then tada, you can make a circuit just by plugging a wire in from red to a normal grid line, whatever bits you want span from that grid line to another, and eventually you connect the far end back anywhere on the black/blue line.

With a nice circuit board, there's also little snap-together pegs along the sides, and the power rails are just snapped on with those. So you can just kinda cut through the backing with a knife or some scissors, snap those off, connect multiple boards together without redundant power rails in the middle, and then just have these nice spare long lines of linked sockets. In the computer I'm building on these, I'm just using spare power rails for the bus. Oh and the big grooved channel down the middle also has a purpose. Bigger electronic components, like our good good friend the integrated circuit, are generally designed to be exactly wide enough (or more, but by a multiple of 0.1 inches) to straddle that groove as you plug their legs into the wires on either side, so they nicely fit into a breadboard, and there's a handy gap to slide something under and pry them off later on.

Typically though, you don't see breadboards inside a computer, or anything else. They're super handy for tinkering around and designing stuff, but for final builds, you want something more permanent. Usually, that's a printed circuit board, or PCB. This is pretty much what everyone's going to picture when they think about the guts of a computer. A big hard (usually) green board with a bunch of intricate lines, or "traces" running all over made of (usually) copper. And maybe with some metal ringed holes punched all the way through (they call those vias). These tend to look really complicated and maybe even a little magical, but they're honestly they're just pre-placed wires with a sense of style.

Most of the material of the board is insulated. The copper traces conduct real well, and manufacturers have done the math on just how close together they can be run without connecting to each other in places you don't want. The holes that go all the way through are for either plugging other bits in that tend to come with long legs you maybe want to keep intact, or just ways to run a trace through to the other side, where we often have traces on the back too to maximize our space. Most of what makes them look all cool and magical is how the traces run as close packed as possible to conserve space, and tend to only turn at 45 degree angles, which is just an artifact of how the machinery used to etch them out sued to be iffy about anything else.

So tada, you have all your wires pre-stuck to a nice sturdy board, and maybe even have labels printed right on there for where you solder all the various components to finish the thing. Oh and when you hear people talk about like, motherboards and daughterboards? The big main board you have for everything is a motherboard. Sometimes you need more than that, so you make smaller ones, and connect them up ether with some soldering or cartridge style with end-pins sliding snugly into sockets, and those we call daughterboards.

Integrated Circuits, or as they're also known, "chips"

The last thing you're likely to find if you crack open a computer, or just about any other electronic device that isn't super old or super super simple, are integrated circuits. Generally these are think black plastic bars that look like you'd maybe try to awkardly use them to spread cheese or peanutbutter on crackers in a prepacked snack or something, with rows of tiny little legs that running along either side. Kinda makes them look like little toy bugs or something. Sometimes they're square with pins along every edge, because sometimes you need a lot of pins. These are integrated circuits, or microchips, or just chips, and wow are they handy.

Sometime back in the 60s when people were really getting their heads around just how ridiculously small they could make electronic components and still have them work, we started to quite rapidly move towards a point where the big concern was no longer "can we shrink all this stuff down to a manageable size" and more "we are shrinking everything down to such an absurdly tiny size that we need to pack it all up in some kind of basically indestructible package, while still being able to interact with it."

So, yeah, we worked out a really solid standard there. I kinda wish I could find more on how it was set or what sort of plastic was used, but you take your absurdly shrunken down complex circuit for doing whatever. You run the teensiest tiniest wires you can out from it that thicken up at the ends into standard toothy prongs you can sink into a breadboard or a PCB with that standardized pin spacing, and you coat it all in this black plastic so firmly enveloping it that nothing can move around inside or get broken, hopefully.

And honestly, in my opinion, this is all TOO standardized. The only real visible difference between any two given integrated circuits is how many legs they have, and even those tend to come to some pretty standard numbers. They're always the same size shape and color, they all have the same convention of having a little indented notch on one side so you know which end is which, and they all seem to use just the worst ink in the world to print a block of numbers on the back with their manufacturer, date of assembly, a catalog number, and some other random stuff.

For real if there's any real comprehensive standard for what's printing on these, I can't for the life of me find it. All I know is, SOMEWHERE, you've got a 2 or 3 letter code for every manufacturer, a number for the chip, and a 4 digit date code with the last 2 digits of the year, and which week of that year it was. These three things can be in any order, other things can also be on there, probably with zero spacing, and usually printed in ink that wipes away like immediately or at least is only readable under really direct light, it sucks.

Once you know what a chip is though and look up the datasheet for it, you should have all sorts of handy info on what's inside, and just need to know what every leg is for. For that, you find which end has a notch in it, that's the left side, sometimes there's also a little dot in the lower left corner, and hopefully the label is printed in alignment with that. From there, the bottom left leg is pin 1, and then you count counterclockwise around the whole chip. You're basically always going to have positive and negative power pins, past that anything goes. You can cram a whole computer into a single chip, yo can have someone just put like 4 NAND gates on a chip for convenience, whatever.

OK, but how do they make them so small?

OK, so, mostly a circuit we're going to want to shrink down and put on a chip is just gonna be a big pile of logic gates, we can make our logic gates just using transistors, and we can make transistors just by chemically treating some silicon. So we just need SUPER flat sheets of treated silicon, along with some little strands of capacitive/resistive/insulating material here and there, and a few vertically oriented bits of conductive metal to pass signals up and down as we layer these together. Then we just need to etch them out, real real small and tight.

And we can do that etching at like, basically infinite resolution it turns out. It just so happens we have access to special acids that eat through the materials we need them to eat through, but that only work when they're being directly hit with fairly intense UV light. And a thing about light is when you have say, a big cut out pattern that you hold between a light and a surface, it casts a shadow on it... and the scaling of that shadow depends entirely on the distances between the light, the pattern, and the surface. So if you're super careful calibrating everything, you can etch a pattern into something at a scale where the main limiting factors become stuff like how many molecules thick things have to be to hold their shape. Seriously, they use electron microscopes to inspect builds because that's the level of tininess we have achieved.

So yeah, you etch your layers of various materials out with shadow masks and UV acid, you stack them up, you somehow align microscopic pins to hold them together and then you coat the whole mess in plastic forever. Tada. Anything you want in a little chip.

ROMs, maybe with various letters in front

So there's a bunch of standard generally useful things people put into ICs, but also with a computer you generally want some real bespoke stored values with a lookup table where you'll keep, say, a program to be run by feeding whatever's inside out to the bus line by line. For that we use a chip we call Read Only Memory, or ROM. Nothing super special there, just... hard wire in the values you need when you manufacture it. Manufacturing these chips though is kind of a lot, with the exacting calibrations and the acid and the clean rooms and all. Can't we have some sort of Programmable ROM? Well sure, just like build it so that all the values are 1, and build a special little thing that feeds more voltage through than it can handle and physically destroy the fuse for everything you don't want to be a 1.

OK that's still kind of a serious commitment. What if I want to reuse this later? Oh, so you want some sort of Erasable PROM? OK someone came up with a funky setting where you overload and blow out the fuses but then if you expose the guts of the chip to direct UV light through this little window, everything should reform back to 1. Just like, throw a sticker on there when you don't want to erase it. Well great, but can we maybe not have me desolder it and take it out to put under a lamp? Oh la de da! You need Electronically Erasable PROMs? EEPROMs? I guess we can make THAT work, somehow. They're still gonna be slow to write to though, can't have anything. I mean, not unless we invented like, flash memory. Which somehow does all this at speeds where you can use it for long term storage without it being a pain. So that's just kinda the thing we have now. Sorry I don't quite get the principles behind it enough to summarize. Something about floating components and needing less voltage or whatever. Apparently you sacrifice some read speed next to older options but hey, usable rewritable long term storage you just plug in, no jumping through extra hoops.

So OK. I think that's everything I can explain without biting the bullet and explaining ALUs and such. Well, there's keyboards (they're just buttons connecting input lines), monitors (these days, LEDs wired up in big grids), and mice (there's spokes in wheels that click X times or cameras checking the offset values of dust on your desk or whatnot).

Maybe throw me some money before we move on ?

CONTINUED IN PART 4

[fifis-cosmos]

you should do hyunjin as your fwb (coworkers????????????)

I feel like it’s really easy to picture Hyunjin in a fwb scenario.

Idk why?? I think he would not really be into it in real life, tbh, unless it’s his only option at the time, but that’s just my opinion.

I feel like he’s too romantic for that honestly. He wants to have a connection.

BUUUUUUT. That’s also super hot. Imagine (since you said it should be his coworker) you auditioned maybe? Or you’re a trainee at JYPE and you guys do “extra lessons” but really he just fucks you against the floor in front of the mirrors in the practice room. Maybe he just looks a bit TOO good rehearsing his dance for circle…

Another thing could be you as a staff member? like his makeup artist or OOOH MAYBE HIS STYLIST? So he calls you into the changing room to help with his shirt, or the cord for his mic pack or some dumb shit to get you into a room alone with him. Maybe you’re a more personal staff member that helps them get organized to leave after concerts, and he’s all hooked on the adrenaline from performing.

He’ll get you into a bathroom, or maybe try to get a car for just the two of you. or just take you back to the hotel so he can drain all that energy into railing you into the pristine sheets.

[wh3atley-personality-core]

What’s the nicest thing someone has said to you? I can’t imagine how hellish Aperture is I’m sorry Wheatley

"That's a really good question... I wasn't really said good things down there... only orders and sometimes insults... but I remember one day, after they unplugged me from Her, the scientist were discussing on whether throw me away or destroy me for spare metal, all in front of me! Nasty stuff! You don't discuss about donating your friends organs after they get fired... do you? Um- anyways, one of them stood up and suggested that instead of throwing me away or destroy me, they should just give me another job, he told me that I deserved a second chance..."

"after a few more minutes the scientists agreed to the idea and hooked me into the management rail to get me another job... that man is probably long dead gone now but I never got to thank him"

[06sunnybunny06]

-1 part (Aren't we friends?)

♡♡♡♡

Today that asshole didn't come again!- it wasn't the first time Childe missed your meeting. He always came running after a few days of ignoring you. And what got you hooked on him? Only the eyes, empty as the abyss of the sea, had an eerie appearance. In fact, his cheerful personality was much nicer with red hair and barely noticeable freckles on his cheeks. He always talked about his travels. He had a special love for his family. A nice guy, just a little weird.

* Damn it. Well, I was thinking about him again and only about the good things. What kind of a brat is that? It doesn't even give you peace of mind!* - holding her head, she almost started pulling out her hair. You tried your best not to fall in love with him. He's the devil knows who and the devil knows where from. For Li Yue, the clothes didn't match well. And in general, there is talk of a dangerous organization from Snezhnaya, which haunts the locals. If such dangerous guys are hanging around the city. It's better not to deal with them at all.

Turning around, you screamed when the long figure of the redhead loomed over you- What the hell?!

- Hi baby - he leaned against the railing of the bridge as if nothing had happened before. - I see you don't miss me. And I had to work overtime to make sure I didn't miss our date. His smile widened as he looked at you.

You snorted-Three hours have long passed. I thought I wouldn't see you......again. I think my departure would be a good revenge for the frequent expectations. What kind of girl do you think would do that? If you had missed another meeting, you would have been replaced by a more competent partner.

His eyes widened for a moment, but his face immediately assumed its carefree look. "I think I need to apologize to my unfortunate lady." I have a good excuse. I was working, but the work didn't end.

- then you need to warn me. I have things to do, too, and they don't fit in with your shift schedule. She snorted again, turning away.

Gloved hands lay on your shoulders, squeezing them a little tighter than necessary - If you wait a little, then I can solve some serious issues, and then we can see each other at least every day! There was amusement in his voice.

- every day? What about your job?

- Oh, don't worry. I'm going on vacation soon. I want to see my family and invite you to join me.

This offer looked tempting. Child often talked about

his younger brothers and sisters. His family was portrayed as a small light out of love and warmth in your head. Unlike yours, which is angry and cold. Moving to Li Yue was a good opportunity to cut off all ties with relatives. They stayed in their small village. You've become interested. How are they doing? These thoughts immediately flew out of my head like a cold wind. It's none of your business anymore. They didn't care about your departure. I didn't care about you. There's no reason to think about it....

A hand flashed before my eyes - the station is calling t/i! How do you hear?

After blinking a couple of times, you came to your senses - everything is fine. I was just thinking...

He frowned at you. He didn't like your mood. The sad eyes made him homicidal for the reason of this sight. Nevertheless, he will deal with this issue later, but for now... - what about my offer?

Blinking, you remembered a recent conversation. - I'll be glad. I've always been interested in getting to know you and your family better.

A smile sparkled on his face-that's what I expected, but first..- his face is closer to yours. "first, I'm going to give you a little test.

You frowned - if it's something vulgar, then I'll pass.

His laughter was louder than usual-what kind of nonsense is this? A little pervert. But we'll come back to that later.

Your heart is pounding faster and your cheeks are flushed. I knew I should have been more careful with my words. He can turn anything into a joke.*

- Okay, the trials are like this. He pointed to the piece of paper in his hands. - this is a treasure map. You must use it to get to your destination. You will have a compass, water for necessities and a snack at your disposal. If you get hungry on the way. You have the eye of God on your side and you can actually fight.

You looked at the Cryo-pendant and nodded. "I'm curious where you're luring me to." If the road is so dangerous, then maybe I shouldn't go there?

"firstly, it's a secret, and secondly, you have no right to refuse or you won't get the treasure. - he knew how much you needed the money. By the way, who doesn't need them? That's usually what people do. And in the case of you, who needs to pay for housing and be able to survive without dying of starvation is just a great option.

With a snort, you snatched the card out of his hands- So treasures, right?

He stared at you happily. "you have until sunset, starting the next day.

"Isn't this the map of old Li Yuey?" Even the city here doesn't look like a modern one.

- I guessed right. This way it will be harder for you to navigate in space, which gives you a small obstacle, but what a reward!

— Okay. If that's all you have. I think I'll go get ready. But if this is another prank, then our friendship is over.

- I will look forward to seeing you at the end of the journey!

You nodded slowly as you left him. Childe waved goodbye to you. A moment later, his eyes narrowed, and his gentle smile took on an unpleasant smirk. This was the role of the harbinger of Fatua: to change the mask of his personality depending on the situation. It's a good thing you fell into his hands and not some crazy bastard's. Your innocence reminded him of his brothers and sisters. But they were his family, and you were the prey. What will this game bring him? He sighed blissfully and walked through the streets of Li Yuey, whistling.

[blackbird-brewster]

Friday Fic Recs

I've been catching up on CM Kink Bingo fics , but there's also a lot of fluff in here. This is gonna be a long list because there's so many good fics to talk about!

What I've Read:

Tara/Emily | Rated: E | WC: 1082 | CM Kink Bingo Fill Author: @alexblakeisgay (ArwenLalaith)

Why I Love It: TEMILY CME SMUT!!!!! Everything ArwenLalaith writes is awesome, I was so happy to see them participating in the CM Kink Bingo event this year, doubly happy to see them writing for Temily.

Tara/Emily | Rated: E | WC: 1038 | CM Kink Bingo Fill Author: ArwenLalaith

Why I Love It: I enjoy how in character this is and absolutely loved the menopause mentions, because these women are in their 50s! I also loved the discussions about using weed as an aphrodisiac, that's so real.

Emily/Rebecca | Rated: E | WC: 1176 | CM Kink Bingo Fill Author: ArwenLalaith

Why I Love It: Embecca lives!!! The hooking up with a stranger who turns out to be a co-worker trope is one of my absolute faves. I love this take on how Rebecca and Emily met. This line absolutely killed me:

“I have to call you something...” came the retort.

“You can call me Sir,” Emily instructed, undoing buttons as her lips travelled lower and lower.

JJ/Emily | Rated: E | WC: 2177 | CM Kink Bingo Fill Author: @justjasper

Why I Love It: This is smut at the highest caliber, it's so hot. Been really vibing with ABO stuff lately and this is just *chef's kiss*. This fic is the sister fic to Only If For a Night, which I also highly recommend.

Tara/Penelope | Rated: T | WC: 1468 | Series: Drive Author: @swpf

Why I Love It: The world needs more Tenelope in it and this fic was absolutely fluffy and adorable. It plays on the instant chemistry Tara had with Penelope and it made me kick my feet and sqee with joy.

Tara/Penelope | Rated: T | WC: 1740 | Series: Drive Author: swpf

Why I Love It: This whole series is a delight, but I think this one is my favourite so far. The hurt/comfort to fluff ratio is sheer perfection. I love Penelope seeing the window of opportunity to make her move on Tara and just going for it.

Tara/Penelope | Rated: M | WC: 2749 | Series: Drive Author: swpf

Why I Love It: This was so cute and hot. I love Tara going to visit PG when she's under lock down at Quantico. It's so extremely Tara to also bring comfort snacks for her girlfriend. These two are too wholesome.

What I'm Writing:

Tara/Rebecca, JJ/Emily, Emily/Rebecca | Rated: E | WC: 74,012 Series: The Age of Pleasure

Author's Note: I recently finished my CME S17 fic! This fic focuses on the tangled web of emotions between JJ, Emily, Tara, and Rebecca. It's an absolute ride from start to finish, full of plot twists, secrets, and lies. I loved writing this one, so much so that it has been expanded into what will become a series focusing on these four women.

Tara/Rebecca, JJ/Emily | Rated: E | WC: 9,235 | CM Kink Bingo Fill Series: The Age of Pleasure

Author's Note: This is my first ever foursome smut (and apparently the first fic tagged as femslash foursome in the CM fandom on AO3). What can I say other than, READ IT, trust me. This piece is 9k of pure sinful sexual indulgence. Emily gets railed in a 3-on-1 foursome. It's sheer perfection.

ICYMI (Other Recent Fics and Updates):

When You Looked My Way Tara/Emily | Rated: T | WC: 4246

Summary: 5 times Tara thought her feelings for Emily were unrequited and 1 time Emily proved her wrong.

FANVID: Million Times Tara/Rebecca | Rated: G | Series: CM Fanvids

Jemily Ficlet Archives (Update) JJ/Emily | Rated: M | WC: 32,800+ (WIP)

Chapter Summary:

In which JJ accompanies Emily to Paris and the pair finally address their feelings for each other.

[EXTRAS] Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) (Update)

JJ/Tara/Emily, Tara/Rebecca | Rated: E | WC: 17,338 Series: Fooled Around (and Fell in Love)

Update Notes:

Added Part 3 Author's Commentary

Added Part 3 - Timeline Notes

ADDITIONAL CM FEMSLASH FIC RECS:

Past Friday Fic Recs:  [Friday Fic Recs - Tumblr] || [CM Fic Recs - AO3 Collection]

My Fanfic Master Lists: [JJ/Emily] || [Tara/Emily] || [JJ/Tara] || [Tara/Rebecca]

2023 Rec Lists: [JJ/Emily] || [Tara/Emily + Other Femslash]

2022 Rec Lists: [JJ/Emily] || [Tara/Emily] || [Other Femslash]