#Logic Analyzer Industry

[electronics]

Exploring the Dynamics of the Global Logic Analyzer Market

Exploring the Dynamics of the Global Logic Analyzer Market

The global Logic Analyzer Market size was valued at USD 551.2 million in 2023 and is projected to reach USD 1,065.7 million by 2032, growing at a CAGR of 7.6% during the forecast period (2024–2032).

The Logic Analyzer Market encompasses electronic test instruments designed to capture and analyze multiple signals from digital circuits and systems. These devices are essential for debugging and verifying the performance of complex electronic designs, offering capabilities such as timing analysis and protocol decoding. The market is driven by increasing demand for high-performance testing tools in sectors like automotive, consumer electronics, and telecommunications, alongside the rapid development of IoT devices. As technology evolves, logic analyzers are becoming more sophisticated, with enhanced features that cater to diverse industry needs.

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Logic Analyzer Market Catalysts for Expansion

The growth of the logic analyzer market is driven by several key factors:

Increased Demand for Advanced Testing Tools: The rising complexity of electronic designs necessitates sophisticated testing equipment, leading to higher adoption rates of logic analyzers across various industries.

Technological Advancements: Innovations in digital signal processing and the integration of advanced features in logic analyzers are making them more appealing to engineers and technicians.

Rising R&D Investments: Increased investments in research and development across sectors such as automotive, healthcare, and electronics are creating new opportunities for market players.

Expansion of IoT and Embedded Systems: The growing prevalence of Internet of Things (IoT) devices and embedded systems is driving the need for effective testing solutions, further propelling market growth.

Logic Analyzer Market Segment Breakdown

The logic analyzer market can be segmented into various categories:By Type

Modular Logic Analyzers

PC-Based Logic Analyzers

By Application

Integrated Circuits

Processors

Memory Devices

Personal Computers

By Verticals

Electronics and Semiconductor

Automotive and Transportation

Aerospace and Defense

This segmentation highlights the diverse applications and types of logic analyzers available in the market, catering to a wide range of industries.

Top Performing Companies

The competitive landscape of the logic analyzer market features several key players, including:

Keysight Technologies

Fortive

Rohde & Schwarz

National Instruments

Yokogawa Electric

Teledyne

Advantest Corporation

ARM Limited

GAO Tek

Rigol Technologies

Saleae, Inc.

Good Will Instrument Co., Ltd.

Zero plus Technology Co., Ltd.

Qingdao Hantek Electronic Co., Ltd.

NCI Logic Analyzers

Scientech Technologies Pvt. Ltd.

OWON Technology

IKALOGIC

Red Pitaya

GSAS Micro Systems Pvt Ltd.

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These companies are at the forefront of innovation in the logic analyzer market, continuously enhancing their product offerings to meet evolving customer demands.

Logic Analyzer Market Emerging Prospects

As industries increasingly rely on digital technology, the demand for logic analyzers is expected to grow significantly. Emerging trends include the integration of artificial intelligence (AI) in testing processes, which can enhance data analysis capabilities and improve efficiency in troubleshooting complex digital circuits.

Logic Analyzer Market Industry Movements

Recent developments within the logic analyzer market indicate a trend towards greater functionality and user-friendliness in products offered by leading companies:

Product Innovations: Companies are launching new models with enhanced features such as higher channel counts and improved display capabilities to capture more complex signals.

Strategic Partnerships: Collaborations between technology firms are leading to advancements in product development and market reach.

Logic Analyzer Market Geographic Analysis

Geographically, the logic analyzer market is witnessing significant growth across various regions:

North America: Currently holds the largest market share due to its established electronics industry and strong R&D investments.

Asia-Pacific: Expected to be the fastest-growing region, driven by rapid advancements in technology and increasing demand from automotive and telecommunications sectors.

Logic Analyzer Market Data Insights

Data insights from recent analyses reveal that:

The modular logic analyzer segment is gaining traction due to its versatility and adaptability across different applications.

The electronics and semiconductor verticals are major contributors to market growth, reflecting the ongoing demand for testing solutions in these sectors.

In conclusion, the global logic analyzer market is poised for substantial growth driven by technological advancements, increased demand for sophisticated testing tools, and rising R&D investments across various industries. With a projected size reaching over USD 1 billion by 2032, stakeholders in this sector are encouraged to leverage emerging opportunities to enhance their competitive positioning in this dynamic landscape.

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[sitepathos]

Imagine the angst if Bruce does end up finding a cure for the Megamycete, but when he injects reader, he starts to calcify immediately bc the megamycete replaced most of his cells already. Reader laughing maniacally as he crumbles bc he won

First of all, I hope everyone had a great holiday season, whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, etc. Also, Happy New Year to those already in 2025 and to the rest of us still in 2024, hope you’ve found a fun way to ring in the upcoming year!

Second, I’ve had A LOT of people asking me this question (for real, most of my asks are about the Reader dying after the Megamycete is removed) and I just want to say… sips sweet tea.

Sorry, everyone, that is MAJOR spoiler territory and I’m not ready to reveal that information. You’ll just have to wait until climax of the series to find out whether you lose the Megamycete and what happens if you do, or if you prevail over the Bats.

But, for this individual’s ask, let’s just say the Bats do manage to kill the Megamycete, resulting in your death due to it making up much of your body at this point. You slowly but surely turn an alarming shade of white before crumbing into dust, choosing to spend your last few moments of life to mock them, laugh at them, and that “you’ll see them in hell.”

Bruce would be totally destroyed that he’s the reason for his son’s death. Once again, a member of his family is dead, but unlike Joe Chill and Joker, he was the killer, the smoking gun/detonator in his hand. He completely withdraws into his work, both as Bruce Wayne and Batman; doing anything he can think of to keep from being reminded that the last words his son said to him was that he’d see him in hell (he’ll gladly spend the rest of eternity being tortured if it means being near you). He had your calcified remains gathered into a capsule and buried in the Wayne Family Cemetery (despite Alfred’s best efforts to convince him to bury you next to your mother).

Dick is heartbroken, both at his baby brother being dead and that death was preferable over you being with them, your family. While Bruce withdraws, Dick becomes more present, dropping in on his siblings practically every day, asking how their day was, what they’re currently doing, do they want to hang out, etc. He also visits your grave everyday, telling you about his day, what’s going on with the family, and how he regrets not being a better big brother to you and he wishes he could change the past.

Jason separates himself from the family (except Alfred, of course), pissed at them for mistreating you for years, but mostly pissed at himself for doing the same thing. Looking back, he can see that he was so engulfed in his anger, pain, hatred, and sadness and so convinced that he’s the only one in the family that’s suffering that he couldn’t see that you were just like him; if he had gotten his shit together, he would’ve seen that you clearly didn’t belong in this family of batshit crazy vigilantes and you weren’t getting the proper support you needed. If he had, he would’ve snatched you and raised you himself. But he didn’t do that, and he’ll never get the chance to spend anytime with you.

Tim does the same thing as Bruce, drowning himself in his work, both as Tim Drake and Red Robin, but he goes a step further in his spiral into madness that even Bruce couldn’t bring himself to do: obsess over your remains. After your funeral, he dug up the capsule containing the calcified dust that was once you (he has a very concerning obsession with your remains) and brought it to a safe house he had prepared just for this purpose, using all the scientific equipment within it to analyze your remains down to the atomic level, confident that even in this form, you’re still alive (after all, this is a sentient pile of mold we’re taking about, so logic and reason have long since been thrown out the window). When he’s not obsessing over your remains, he’s obsessing over your game studio, having used Drake Industries to acquire it and personally oversees everything it does, telling everyone that he’s doing it to honor you.

Stephanie tries to cheer everyone up, but if even Dick is depressed, there’s nothing she can do. She feels extremely guilty about how she basically threw you away like a child does an old toy after her first week in Wayne Manor. Since Bruce has basically taken over your old room, like he’ll find you there if he goes there enough times, she takes up the burden of taking care of your house (a task she was able to take right from under the noses of Bruce, Tim, and Damian), going through all your possessions every time she’s over there, reading your books, playing the games on your computer, and even sitting in your bed. As she does, she learns a little more about you, making her grief for you even stronger and wishes she could’ve hung out with you.

Cassandra has only known true regret and grief a few times in her life, but her treatment of you and your death are definitely the worse instances of regret and grief she’s ever experience (and probably ever will experience). She accompanies Steph every time she goes to your house, helping clean it, keep your knick-knacks organized, and pointing out anything you may have hidden. As she gazes upon your various collectibles and posters in your game room, she wishes she could’ve gotten to know you more; when she first met you, she deemed you insignificant due to your lack of combat training and low threat level, but she now knows that you were not only a person, but her brother. She only wishes she would’ve learned that lesson before you were taken from them.

Damian is like his father, withdrawing into himself, but he also comes out every now and then to lash out at anyone unfortunate enough to be near him when his anger reaches its boiling point (Jason gives as good as he gets while Dick takes it all in stride). You were his brother and you were suppose to be by his side! When he realized his error, he had made plans for you to be by his side for all the important moments of his life, like when he inevitably inherited the Cowl of Batman, or when he took over Wayne Enterprises, or when he finally triumphed over Drake! But, not only are you dead, but you used your last few moments of death to curse and taunt him. He becomes a time bomb that goes off unexpectedly on a nearly daily basis.

Alfred is absolutely heartbroken over the end of your feud with the family. He knew that you wouldn’t go back willingly after helping the others relate the error of their ways, and when he learned of you being the host of the Megamycete, he already foresaw the fight you’d put up (so much like your father, he thought), but he never thought that you’d take it so far as to result in your death; had he known that you’d die he would’ve found another way of making you return to the manor. But now, you’re gone reduced to a pile of dust. He tried to convince Bruce that you should be buried in your hometown next to your mother (he’d want that more than anything, Master Bruce, he pleaded), but you ended up being buried in the place you hated more than anywhere else close to the people you hated more than anyone else; as much as he hated to admit it, he liked that you were buried in the Wayne Family Cemetery since he can visit your grave everyday, keep it clean from leaves, dirt, and dust and beg for your forgiveness for not doing more while you were alive.

[reveryfics]

The Range

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Summary: With a firearms test looming, Spencer was struggling to improve even with Hotchner's guidance. Hotchner then recommended he seeks help from someone more qualified.

A/N: I'm going to start tagging these types of fics with "ftm reader" too. A lot of my "x male" fics can be read as both unless it's a specific request or outright mentioned like in my smut posts. Let it be known this started as a undeveloped idea and spiraled into this.

TW: Awkward Spencer - Fluff

The rhythmic thwack of bullets striking the backstop echoed through the vast, concrete expanse of the Quantico firing range, a stark, percussive counterpoint to the profound, frustrated silence emanating from Spencer Reid's isolated booth. Sweat beaded on his brow, not from the physical exertion of firing, but from the sheer, overwhelming mental strain of trying to coax his perpetually trembling hands into anything resembling a steady aim. His latest grouping on the paper target, a ragged constellation of holes, looked less like a concentrated cluster of impacts and more like the scattered pattern of a shotgun blast from fifty yards out.

Aaron Hotchner, ever stoic and observant, stood a respectful distance behind Reid, his arms crossed over his chest, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He'd dedicated countless hours to Reid this past week, patiently deconstructing and explaining every foundational tenet of marksmanship: the proper stance, the firm but relaxed grip, the crucial sight alignment, the smooth and controlled trigger squeeze. Yet, with each passing minute, it became increasingly, painfully clear that Spencer's prodigious intellectual brilliance, his near-superhuman capacity for logical deduction and encyclopedic recall, simply did not extend to the fundamental mechanics of operating a Glock service pistol.

"It's like... the gun just feels alien in my hand, Hotch," Reid confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, as he carefully lowered the firearm onto the bench with a grimace of pure exasperation. "My brain understands the intricate physics, the complex trajectory, the precise ballistics, but my body stubbornly refuses to cooperate with the simplest of commands."

Hotch nodded slowly, a familiar, resigned look settling onto his features. "Some things just don't click, Spencer, no matter how much you analyze them. But this isn't an elective. This is a mandatory qualification test, and you need to pass it to remain active in the field." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "Perhaps it's best you seek help from someone who specializes in one-on-one firearms training, someone who's specifically qualified to help agents with... unique challenges."

Spencer nodded, biting his bottom lip, the humiliation a bitter taste in his mouth. He picked up his spent casings, the small brass cylinders cool against his fingertips, as he and Hotchner left the cacophony of the firing range, the echoing thwacks slowly fading behind them.

He didn't know the first thing about where to go for such specialized training. As much as he valued Morgan's advice, the thought of asking his perpetually teasing colleague for recommendations on his shooting inadequacy filled him with dread. He could already hear the good-natured but relentless jabs. Which was why, a few days later, he found himself standing hesitantly in the doorway of a small, nondescript local gun range, long after its official closing hours.

And there you were. You, who looked like you were perpetually one stupid customer away from subtly strangling someone, while simultaneously possessing the frantic energy of a person who'd consumed an industrial quantity of caffeine. The lingering, almost palpable smell of strong coffee on your breath confirmed Reid's deduction on that front. You were actively cleaning up, wiping down counters with meticulous, almost aggressive strokes, clearly eager to lock up and go home.

You had honestly thought, for a fleeting moment, that Reid was messing with you, perhaps a late-night prank from a colleague, especially since the range had closed nearly thirty minutes ago and you were clearly in the final stages of your closing routine. But the earnest, almost desperate look on his face, those wide, intelligent eyes behind his glasses, told you he was more than serious about his impromptu, late-night request for help. And who were you, a self-proclaimed connoisseur of quirky individuals, to deny this adorable, socially awkward dork of a man the assistance he so clearly, desperately needed?

You quirked an eyebrow, a silent question in your gaze, but Spencer just offered a small, hopeful smile. With a resigned sigh, you gestured for him to follow. "Alright, pretty boy. Let's see what we're working with."

You led him deeper into the range, the scent of gunpowder clinging to the air like a second skin. The main bay was dark, but you flipped a switch, bathing a section in stark fluorescent light. In one hand, you balanced four boxes of 9mm ammunition, their weight familiar. In the other, you held your personal sidearm—a sleek, customized Glock 19—and a Glock 22, a close replica of the standard issue for the BAU.

"Alright, Spencer," you began, your voice losing its earlier edge, replaced with a no-nonsense professionalism. "Before we even think about touching a firearm, we're going to talk. And then we're going to breathe." You set the boxes and pistols on a cleared section of the counter, the metal cold and unyielding against the laminate. "You said your brain understands the physics but your body won't cooperate. My job is to bridge that gap. We're going to break this down, piece by painful piece, until it becomes muscle memory."

You picked up the Glock 22, checking its clear chamber before handing it to him, butt first. "Feel that weight? That balance? Your hands are trembling, I can see that. That's not just nerves about shooting; that's often a manifestation of mental overload." You watched as he cradled the weapon, his brow furrowed in concentration. "First things first: stance. Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, dominant foot slightly back. Hips aligned with your shoulders, a slight forward lean. Imagine you're bracing against a strong wind."

You demonstrated, moving with an easy, fluid grace that belied your earlier grumpiness. Then you moved to his side, gently adjusting his posture. "Good. Now, grip. High on the backstrap, web of your hand firmly against the tang. Your strong hand does the work of controlling the firearm, while your support hand wraps around for stability. No 'death grip,' Spencer. Just firm control. You want to be able to isolate your trigger finger."

You demonstrated the grip with your own Glock, showing him how your fingers molded around the pistol, how your thumbs aligned. "Now, this is where most people struggle: sight picture and alignment." You took the Glock 22 back and held it up, aligning the front sight post precisely between the two rear sight posts. "Front sight in focus, target slightly blurry. When those three dots line up, that's your window." You held it steady, letting him lean in to observe.

"And finally, the most crucial part, the part that separates good shooters from great ones: trigger control." You handed him the Glock 22 again. "This isn't about jerking the trigger. It's about a slow, steady, continuous press straight to the rear, without disturbing your sight picture. Imagine squeezing a sponge, slowly, until the water comes out." You placed your finger lightly over his on the trigger guard. "You don't want to anticipate the shot; you want to be surprised by it."

You watched his face, the intense concentration, the almost painful effort to translate your words into physical action. "We're not even going to load a round yet. We're going to do dry fire drills, over and over, until you can hold that sight picture through the entire trigger press. And we're going to focus on your breathing. Deep, controlled breaths. It's amazing what a difference that makes."

You moved to a new target, a fresh sheet of paper with a crisp bullseye. "Take your time, Spencer. We've got all night."

Spencer took the Glock 22, his grip a little less tentative this time, but the subtle tremor in his hands was still evident. He tried to mimic your stance, shifting his feet, then his hips, then his shoulders, like a marionette with too many strings. His movements were jerky, hesitant, a stark contrast to your fluid demonstration.

"Okay, Spencer," you prompted, "now the grip. Remember, high on the backstrap, web of your hand firmly against the tang."

He adjusted his fingers, then adjusted them again, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. You could practically hear the whirring of his brilliant mind, dissecting every instruction, every subtle nuance. But it was clear he was overthinking it, getting lost in the theoretical instead of simply doing. His support hand wrapped around his dominant, but it looked awkward, like he was trying to solve a complex puzzle with an oven mitt.

"Good," you said, trying to keep your tone encouraging, even as you saw the familiar signs of frustration beginning to etch themselves onto his face. "Now, bring the pistol up. Find your sight picture."

He raised the Glock, his arms extending, but they wavered slightly. He squinted, trying to align the front sight, but his eyes darted from the blurry target to the pistol, then back to the target. He took a deep, shaky breath, then another, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He was clearly trying to apply the breathing exercises, but the physical act was fighting against his mental state.

You watched as his shoulders tensed, his jaw clenched. He squeezed the trigger, and the slight, almost imperceptible flinch of the pistol was a clear giveaway. He wasn't surprised by the shot; he was bracing for it. The dry click of the firing pin hitting nothing echoed in the otherwise silent range.

He lowered the pistol, his hands dropping to his sides, the frustration radiating off him in palpable waves. He rubbed his temples, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. "It's... it's just not connecting," he muttered, his voice laced with exasperation. "I understand what you're saying, I really do, but when I try to put it into practice, my body just... rebels."

You took a slow, deliberate breath. You could see him spiraling, trapped in his own head. This wasn't about technique anymore; it was about getting him out of his own way. Without a word, you walked up behind him, your presence a warm, solid wall at his back. You were close enough that you could feel the subtle tremor in his shoulders, the tension in his muscles.

"Relax, Spencer," you murmured, your voice low and calm, a stark contrast to his inner turmoil. Your hands gently but firmly settled on his, guiding them back to the pistol. Your body was practically pressed against his back, allowing you to manipulate his posture with your own. You adjusted his feet, subtly shifting his weight until he felt balanced. Your arm came around his, guiding his elbow into the correct position, your hand overlapping his on the grip, molding it into a perfect, natural hold.

You leaned in slightly, your chin almost resting on his shoulder, your voice a soft whisper near his ear. "Now, feel this. Feel the connection between your body and the firearm. Feel the stability." Your hands, strong and steady, became an extension of his, demonstrating the proper grip, the high purchase on the backstrap. "This isn't about thinking, Spencer. It's about feeling. It's about instinct."

You brought the pistol up, your body moving in unison with his, your eyes looking down the sights as you guided his hands. "Front sight, target. Breathe. Slow, steady press. Feel the resistance, then feel the release." You held it there, perfectly steady, allowing him to feel what a truly stable platform felt like. The tension in his body, though still present, began to subtly lessen under your unwavering physical guidance.

You remained behind him, your body a living brace, subtly correcting his stance, your hands guiding his as you raised the Glock again. "Feel that?" you murmured, your voice a low rumble against his ear. "That's what proper alignment feels like. That's stability." You held it there, perfectly still, letting him absorb the sensation. "Now, your focus goes to that front sight. Make it sharp, clear. The target can be blurry. All that matters is that little post right there."

You could feel the subtle shift in his breathing, a slow, almost imperceptible relaxation in his shoulders. He was still tense, but the frantic energy that had radiated from him minutes before had begun to recede. Your body warmth, combined with the steady pressure of your hands, seemed to be short-circuiting his overactive mind, forcing him to engage with the tactile experience rather than the abstract theory.

"Good," you encouraged, your voice soft but firm. "Now, that trigger finger. Isolate it. Don't move anything else. Just a slow, steady press. Like you're pushing against something heavy." You put the slightest pressure on his index finger, guiding it. "Feel how it moves independently? Don't anticipate the shot. Let it surprise you."

The quiet click of the dry fire echoed in the range. It was a cleaner sound this time, less of a jerk, more of a controlled release. You felt the slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his hands, but it was significantly less than before.

"Again," you instructed, keeping your position, your body still molded to his. "Reset. Find that front sight. Breathe. Press."

He did. And again. And again. Each time, the click was a little smoother, the dry fire more consistent. You felt the tension in his muscles slowly bleed away, replaced by a nascent, unfamiliar rhythm. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but the improvement was undeniable. The rigidity in his movements softened, replaced by a tentative fluidity.

After a series of successful dry fires, you finally stepped back, giving him some space. "Alright, Spencer. Take a breath. Tell me what you felt."

He lowered the pistol, his gaze fixed on it as if seeing it for the first time. He flexed his fingers, then opened and closed his hands. "It's... different," he said, his voice quiet, thoughtful. "When you were there, guiding me, it felt... natural. Like my body knew what to do without my brain having to overthink it. It was just... muscle." He looked up at you, a flicker of genuine surprise and dawning comprehension in his eyes. "I think I understand now. It's not about the physics, it's about the feel."

You nodded, a small, knowing smirk playing on your lips. "Exactly. Now, let's see if you can replicate that feeling on your own." You picked up one of the boxes of ammunition. "Ready to load some live rounds?"

Spencer took a deep breath, a flicker of apprehension returning to his eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by a determined glint. "Ready," he affirmed, a newfound resolve in his voice.

You nodded, a subtle approval in your expression. "Good. We're going to start slow. One round at a time." You picked up a magazine and deftly loaded a single 9mm cartridge, the brass glinting under the fluorescent lights. The distinct clink of the round seating in the magazine was a stark reminder that the stakes were about to increase.

You handed the loaded magazine and the Glock 22 to Spencer. "Load it," you instructed, watching as he fumbled slightly, but managed to insert the magazine into the grip with a more confident click than you'd seen from him previously. "Now, rack the slide firmly."

He did, the metallic clack-clack echoing in the otherwise silent range as the round chambered. He held the pistol up, his hands still trembling slightly, but his stance was noticeably better. The subtle adjustments you’d made earlier seemed to have stuck.

"Front sight," you reminded him, your voice calm and steady. "Focus. Breathe. Slow, continuous press."

He took a slow, deliberate breath, his eyes narrowing as he found the front sight. His finger, though still a little hesitant, began to press. You watched, a silent observer, as the muscle memory you’d just helped him build battled with the ingrained mental blocks. There was a moment of absolute stillness, then—

CRACK!

The gunshot ripped through the air, a concussive force that made the concrete walls vibrate. The recoil made Spencer flinch, the pistol kicking up and to the right. He instinctively lowered it, blinking rapidly, a surprised gasp escaping him. The smell of burnt gunpowder instantly filled the air.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "That's... louder than I expected."

You walked over to the target, a new one you’d put up just for this. A single, ragged hole marked the paper. It was off-center, far from the bullseye, but it was on the paper. And more importantly, it wasn't a complete wild shot.

"It's always louder the first time," you said, your tone neutral. "But you kept it on the paper, Spencer. That's progress." You walked back to him, taking the Glock. You ejected the empty magazine and checked the chamber. "The flinch is normal. It's a natural reaction to a loud noise and sudden recoil. We'll work on that."

You reloaded a single round and handed him the pistol again. "This time, I want you to remember what it felt like when I was helping you. Try to recreate that stability. Anticipate the noise, but don't anticipate the shot itself."

He nodded, taking the pistol. He raised it, his movements a little more practiced now. He took a longer, deeper breath, visibly trying to center himself. You could see him fighting the urge to flinch, to yank the trigger. He found his sight picture, held it, and then, with a palpable effort of will, began to squeeze.

CRACK!

Another shot. This time, the recoil was still significant, but his body didn't flinch as violently. He held the pistol up for a moment longer before slowly lowering it.

You walked to the target. The second hole was still off-center, but it was closer to the first, forming a very loose pairing.

"Better," you stated, your gaze returning to him. "Much better. You're starting to get the feel for it. We're going to keep going like this, one round at a time, until that flinch lessens and your groups tighten. Ready for another?"

Spencer nodded, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple, but a flicker of grim determination now shone in his eyes. "Yes. Again."

You reloaded a single round, the familiar clink a small punctuation mark in the quiet range. You handed him the Glock, and he accepted it with less hesitation this time, his fingers finding the familiar contours of the grip. His stance was more natural, less rigid, a faint echo of the perfect form you'd guided him into.

"Remember the breathing," you coached, your voice low and steady. "Control the inhale, control the exhale. Don't let your heart race."

He took a visibly deeper breath, his chest expanding, then slowly contracting. He raised the pistol, his arms extending, and though there was still a slight tremor, his sight alignment was noticeably quicker, more precise. You could almost see the gears in his brilliant mind shifting, moving from frantic overthinking to a more intuitive, almost meditative focus. He was no longer just trying to do it; he was beginning to feel it.

He held the sight picture, the front post unwavering for a crucial second, then two. His finger began to move, a slow, deliberate press. You watched his knuckles whiten slightly as he fought the natural urge to yank or flinch.

CRACK!

The shot rang out, sharp and immediate. This time, the pistol's recoil was still pronounced, but Spencer absorbed it better. He didn't drop his arms immediately, holding the pistol up, his eyes wide but no longer as surprised. He slowly lowered it, a small, almost imperceptible nod of satisfaction on his face.

You walked to the target. This shot was significantly closer to the center, a marked improvement. It wasn't in the bullseye, but it was a solid, undeniable step forward. You tapped the paper with your finger, indicating the new hole.

"Look at that, Spencer," you said, a genuine note of approval in your voice. "You're starting to build a group. You're adapting. That's what we want." You picked up the Glock, ejected the spent casing, and loaded another single round. "The flinch is almost gone. Now we focus on consistency."

He took the pistol back, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. "It's... it's like my body is finally listening to my brain," he mused, looking at the Glock with a newfound respect. "Or maybe, my brain is finally listening to my body."

You smirked. "Something like that. Ready for another?"

Spencer continued, firing round after round, and with each shot, the improvement was remarkable. The flinch became a barely perceptible twitch, his groups on the target tightening from a scattered pattern to a discernible cluster. He was still far from a sharpshooter, but the wild shots were gone, replaced by consistent impacts within the inner rings. You watched him, a quiet satisfaction growing within you. He was learning, adapting, and most importantly, no longer fighting himself.

You decided to join him on the line, pulling up the lane next to his. You grabbed your customized Glock 19 and a fresh target, hanging it with practiced efficiency. The rhythmic CRACK! of your shots mingled with Spencer’s, a steady drumbeat in the otherwise silent range. Your movements were fluid, economical – a testament to countless hours on the range. Each of your rounds punched a neat, precise hole in the bullseye, forming a tight, cloverleaf pattern. It was a stark contrast to Spencer's still-developing technique, yet your presence seemed to spur him on. He'd glance over, a quick, almost imperceptible assessment of your flawless form, then refocus, his own shots becoming more deliberate, more controlled.

As the second hour past closing ticked by, the stack of empty brass casings around Spencer's feet grew considerably. He was no longer just hitting the paper; he was consistently placing his shots within the vital zone of the silhouette target. The initial frustration had completely vanished, replaced by a quiet, intense concentration. He looked less like a panicked academic and more like someone genuinely engaged in a complex, rewarding problem.

Finally, you called a halt. "Alright, Spencer, that's enough for tonight. Let's see the damage."

You both walked downrange to retrieve his targets. You pulled the paper from the hanger, examining it with a critical eye. The first few shots were still scattered, but the latter half of the target showed a significant improvement – a respectable grouping that would easily pass a basic qualification.

"Look at this," you said, a genuine smile touching your lips as you held up the target. "From a shotgun blast to this in a couple of hours. That's excellent work, Spencer. You got out of your head, and you let your body learn. This," you gestured to the tight cluster of holes, "is more than enough to pass your qualification."

Spencer took the target, his eyes wide as he stared at the evidence of his newfound proficiency. A faint flush crept up his neck as he processed your praise, and suddenly, the earlier intensity of his focus seemed to dissipate, replaced by his more familiar awkwardness. His gaze flickered to you, then away, then back, and you could practically see the delayed realization hitting him – how close you’d been earlier, how your body had been pressed against his, guiding his movements.

"Oh," he stammered, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Uh, yes. Thank you. I mean, it's... I really appreciate it. I wouldn't have been able to... that is to say, I'm usually not..." He trailed off, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

You chuckled, enjoying the sight of his return to his delightfully flustered self. "Relax, Spencer. It's just shooting. And you did good." You watched him for a moment, a sense of quiet amusement warming you. "I expect to see you walk through these doors after your test and tell me you passed. Understand?"

He nodded vigorously, still slightly flushed. "Yes! Absolutely. I will. Thank you again. Really." With one last, slightly awkward nod, he turned and headed for the exit, the lingering scent of gunpowder and coffee trailing after him.

A few days later, the familiar chime above the door announced a new arrival. You were behind the counter, deep in conversation with a customer about custom barrel threading, when a figure began to weave through the usual afternoon crowd of shooters and gear enthusiasts. It was Spencer. He was navigating the bustling range with a renewed sense of purpose, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

You finished up with your customer, then cocked an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. You didn't need him to say a word. The way he carried himself, the subtle bounce in his step, it all spoke volumes.

Spencer reached the counter, his usual awkwardness back in full force now that the pressure of the qualification was off. He shifted his weight, then, almost shyly, lifted the hem of his sweater just enough to flash the Glock now securely holstered at his hip. The movement was quick, almost furtive, as if he worried someone might scold him for showing off. He quickly covered it back up, a faint blush already coloring his cheeks.

You chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "I knew you had it in you, Spencer. Good job."

His blush deepened, a delightful shade of pink. "I... I wouldn't have passed if you hadn't helped me," he stammered, his gaze darting around the room, avoiding direct eye contact. "My scores were... significantly better. Hotch was actually surprised." He fidgeted with the strap of his messenger bag. "And I just... I wanted to thank you properly."

Before you could even formulate a response, the words seemed to tumble out of him in a rush. "So, I was wondering if you'd like to... go on a date with me? As a thank you, of course. Not that you owe me anything, but I just thought it would be a nice... gesture. If you're busy, I completely understand, no pressure at all, it's just a thought, really—"

You watched him, suppressing another laugh. He was trying so hard to backpedal, to soften the blow of a potential rejection, but you found it incredibly endearing.

"Spencer," you interrupted gently, cutting off his rapid-fire monologue. A broad smile stretched across your face. "I'd love to."

He froze, his mouth slightly agape, clearly not expecting such a straightforward acceptance. His eyes, wide and surprised, finally met yours.

"I'll see you tonight after work," you confirmed, your voice warm.

A goofy, delighted smile slowly spread across Spencer's face. He nodded vigorously, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Tonight! Yes. Okay. Great. I'll... I'll see you then!" And before he could embarrass himself further, he practically spun on his heel and hurried out of the range, leaving you to your work with a pleasant warmth settling in your chest.

[mythalism]

re: my last post but being a little nicer and less pissed off this time. i am really just a vibes girl at heart like truly when i take the myers-briggs i am 99% intuition and 1% thinking and my intuition is always right but thats a post for another time. and i obviously value objectivity and i have done a lot of very logical, grounded analysis of v*ilguard placed completely within the text but i also believe that some things are. just vibes.

sometimes, you can FEEL when something is off. when something is made out of love and when something is made out of... whatever else. with v*ilguard, what comes to mind is fear, anxiety, insecurity, scorn, derision, and hilariously, pride. i feel the fear and anxiety of backlash and being canceled on twitter in the sanitization of the lore and the lack of flaws in its major characters. i feel the insecurity in the way they marketed the game as something it was not and tried to hide the lack of worldstates and wiped out the south of thedas as if the franchise's established history was something to be ashamed of (i havent forgotten the interview where they made fun of zevran and didnt know who he was). i feel scorn in the way lore that people spent 10 years analyzing is retconned, ignored and simplified, or how characters like varric become cheap plot devices and grabs for nostalgia rather than the fully fledged characters they used to be. i feel derision in the ridiculous fucking dialogue that uses the vocabulary of a 4th grader and sounds like a bad middle-grade novel. i feel the pride in ahistoricism of the narrative, in its condescending overall theme that feels intended to punish players who drew the "wrong" conclusions from their past writing, or the way they thought they could divorce a game so completely from its beloved roots as if the past three games that got them their place in the industry was a gangrenous, rotting limb they could not wait to cut off. the only time i ever feel any love from that game is in a couple of solas's better moments when it feels like trick's love for him is banging on the walls and screaming from the basement and you can only hear the slightest echo from under the floorboards.

when i play inquisition and origins, in contrast, i feel how much the devs loved that world, those characters (most of them... and with viv and sera and you can FEEL how much the lack of love from their writers stands out in comparison to the others. also anders.) and perhaps most importantly to the whole experience, ME!!!!! the depth and complexity of the lore and characters feels like a bridge that creates a relationship between the developers and the player borne out of our shared love for the world of thedas. they littered clues and mysteries and puzzles around that game because they knew we'd be smart enough to figure them out and would have so much fun doing it. they gave us morally complex characters because they trusted us to evaluate and draw our own conclusions about them. they allowed us to make complicated and sometimes fucked up decisions because they had faith in their audience to act like adults playing a fucking video game. for adults. da2 is being left out of this because there is definitely some hatred in that game but they managed to spin it to be juicy and interesting so it gets a pass and for the most part you can tell the characters at least were loved and they had faith in the audience to handle a balls to the wall banger tragic rollercoaster of a story. v*ilguard is like if someone made cocomelon knockoff youtube videos for babies except they fucking hated babies and were just using these videos to put on their resume for their next job. and maybe there were a few people there who DO love babies and want this to be something more than cocomelon, but they're the minority, and you can feel how the end product is not just making fun of the audience but of them too.

the whole game feels like an insult to the players and half of its own developers, and is trying to make fun of you for being there and playing the game in the first place. "here is your nerdy gay fantasy RPG slop that you whined about for 10 years, fucking shut up already and leave us alone." and we literally know this is true. gaider has tweeted about this several times now, a new thread a few days ago about how much of bi*ware at large HATED dragon age. the jason schrier article from 2019 uses the term "black sheep". its why half of the developers fucking left over the past 10 years and the only people left to make this game were people WHO THINK YOU ARE A LOSER AND WANTED TO MOVE ON TO MASS EFFECT!!!!!! and even the people who didnt want to move on to mass effect think you're stupid and interpreted the last game wrong and need to be taught a lesson. god no fucking wonder i never want to play this game again. i said i was going to be nicer and less pissed off at the beginning but you can see how riled up i got just writing this. rancid vibes.

[reasonsforhope]

The Surucuá community in the state of Pará is the first to receive an Amazonian Creative Laboratory, a compact mobile biofactory designed to help kick-start the Amazon’s bioeconomy.

Instead of simply harvesting forest-grown crops, traditional communities in the Amazon Rainforest can use the biofactories to process, package and sell bean-to-bar chocolate and similar products at premium prices.

Having a livelihood coming directly from the forest encourages communities to stay there and protect it rather than engaging in harmful economic activities in the Amazon.

The project is in its early stages, but it demonstrates what the Amazon’s bioeconomy could look like: an economic engine that experts estimate could generate at least $8 billion per year.

In a tent in the Surucuá community in the Brazilian Amazonian state of Pará, Jhanne Franco teaches 15 local adults how to make chocolate from scratch using small-scale machines instead of grinding the cacao beans by hand. As a chocolatier from another Amazonian state, Rondônia, Franco isn’t just an expert in cocoa production, but proof that the bean-to-bar concept can work in the Amazon Rainforest.

“[Here] is where we develop students’ ideas,” she says, gesturing to the classroom set up in a clearing in the world’s greatest rainforest. “I’m not here to give them a prescription. I want to teach them why things happen in chocolate making, so they can create their own recipes,” Franco tells Mongabay.

The training program is part of a concept developed by the nonprofit Amazônia 4.0 Institute, designed to protect the Amazon Rainforest. It was conceived in 2017 when two Brazilian scientists, brothers Carlos and Ismael Nobre, started thinking of ways to prevent the Amazon from reaching its impending “tipping point,” when deforestation turns the rainforest into a dry savanna.

Their solution is to build a decentralized bioeconomy rather than seeing the Amazon as a commodity provider for industries elsewhere. Investments would be made in sustainable, forest-grown crops such as cacao, cupuaçu and açaí, rather than cattle and soy, for which vast swaths of the forest have already been cleared. The profits would stay within local communities.

A study by the World Resources Institute (WRI) and the New Climate Economy, published in June 2023, analyzed 13 primary products from the Amazon, including cacao and cupuaçu, and concluded that even this small sample of products could grow the bioeconomy’s GDP by at least $8 billion per year.

To add value to these forest-grown raw materials requires some industrialization, leading to the creation of the Amazonian Creative Laboratories (LCA). These are compact, mobile and sustainable biofactories that incorporate industrial automation and artificial intelligence into the chocolate production process, allowing traditional communities to not only harvest crops, but also process, package and sell the finished products at premium prices.

The logic is simple: without an attractive income, people may be forced to sell or use their land for cattle ranching, soy plantations, or mining. On the other hand, if they can make a living from the forest, they have an incentive to stay there and protect it, becoming the Amazon’s guardians.

“The idea is to translate this biological and cultural wealth into economic activity that’s not exploitative or harmful,” Ismael Nobre tells Mongabay."

-via Mongabay News, January 2, 2024

[bc-jpeg]

hello i love your art so much, do you perhaps have any tips on character design bc yours are so distinct to me? thank you <3

tysm, anon! I'm glad you like my designs, since you decided to ask me for tips <:D

actually, I don't consider myself very skilled in creating character designs, and I don't really feel like i’m focusing on this in my work, but from the outside view I really like watching this area in my favorite media. I don't know if I can give really working tips, they may not be suitable at all for your creative process and character vision.

here I’ll talk more about creating a design based on an existing image, like minecraft skins, where everything is shown in a very minimalistic way originally and you just have to work from it.

I try to focus as much as possible on the feeling of "is this thing actually suitable for the character or not?", trying to create some kind of composition in the overall design of the character so that everything is in its right place. and that's it, I guess..

I don’t like frequent themed designs that changes every arc/season/smth. in my opinion, yes, it can be beautiful, but it doesn't work at all in my head. some characters TEND to change clothes frequently, sometimes it's literally a character feature that explained by the plot, but it’s not for everyone, I feel. instead, I try to change the original design a little bit for various occasions. especially when you have a base of specific items of clothing, it's a lot of fun to try to keep the same clothes, but changing the shape, details, etc.

I don't like changing the canonical design much, for me it feels wrong by default. but it's still fun to adapt things to your own vision, the main thing is not to get carried away. these frames of the canon makes you think outside the box always, I love it.

logic and practicality are also important to me, simply because that's how I live my life. I’ll obviously choose something practical and comfortable for a daily physical work or a survival games, rather than something fancy. BUT at the same time, I want to do some ordinary practical details fancy still, because it's interesting in the context of practical design.

this doesn’t mean that I’ll assert every detail only on the logic basis, but most often it is so. I like the thinking process itself, how I can adapt a thing so that it works in design both visually and practically and works for the character’s essence.

+ personally, I really like asymmetry in designs, it looks interesting

therefore, I will probably highlight from my entire answer:

— focus on your sense of character, but do not forget about logic and practicality, it’s so useful sometimes.

— try to analyze the character as much as possible so that you can convey many features through their design. shapes and colors are the ultimate basis.

— often look at the design in full picture, so you don’t get some overloaded parts, otherwise the whole design falls apart

[sources with universal advices from professional character designers who have been in their industry for a long time will be useful here, you can find many videos on this topic on youtube]

— references. save as many references as you want, scroll through the pinterest feed at least once a day, there are many unexpected details that can be used to create a character design. artbooks for various media are a very cool thing for this, I dream of a collection of such books.

— if I work on something from scratch, it’s easy to draw a multiple versions of the same design, with some changes, just to see which of them is working the most. also always trying to analyse each of them, “what I like about this version? and what about that?” and etc. after the time you can find a perfect combo of each criteria you like from every versions.

— sometimes also you just have to give it a time, if you doubt some parts of the design.

I tried to think on something more to add here, but for now that’s it-

[dangan-radio]

ultimate philosopher komaeda / ultimate director hinata. rambling under the cut

i wanted to make an au with giving them talents just to explore how they would react to it and i think ultimately they'd both believe they're undeserving of the recognition despite it

komaeda's talent basically comes from him having the same luck cycle and everything but for a class he puts up a website with a few essay-type things analyzing concepts by bringing up philosophy and how he personally views things. he sort of has no idea how much traffic it actually brings in and he's purposefully avoiding trying to figure that out because if it was popular it would mean it'd be good luck which would lead to something bad. but the idea that he can put his thoughts down and leave them is appealing so he keeps coming back to it

the school finds it and because his worldview is centered around the idea of hope and talent (plus with how extensive his writings are because komaeda has a chronic inability to shut up) they end up scouting him through that (along with the other letter since. he does still have his luck. since it is kind of crucial in informing his worldview. even if its not a recognized talent)

meanwhile hinata's came from the fact that he's always wanted to be like talented people and he found out one of his friends from his elementary school's father was a movie producer so age 8 he went to him with a pitch for a movie (a memory which he looks back on and cringes about to this day)

the producer laughs about it but does offer to bring hinata on set if he gets the chance and the event sparks something in hinata who makes it his goal to learn as much about it as possible

a few years later he knows a lot more about how the industry works and because he relies on logic more than emotion he has sort of broken down what makes movies popular bit by bit into a formula in a very circle theory-esque way. he goes back and tries pitching a different idea which actually gets approval. and he ends up being able to make multiple movies by the time he's in high school and that's how he gets scouted for hope's peak

but the thing is. hinata cannot watch anything he creates after its finished because he will always find something wrong with it. and he always blames it on himself because it would be incredibly rude to blame the other people who worked on the movie with him especially when everyone tries so hard at their job to stay in such a fast-paced industry. so he has no idea why anyone actually enjoys anything he makes because like. its supposed to be interesting and compelling. it was calculated to be such. but it's still awful and terrible and he's still waiting for the day when the axe drops and everyone realizes this for themselves

[emeraldsfanfics]

Can you do 1012 leo x introverted detective/creep reader who likes stalking ppl, taking pictures and notes bc they suck at actually socializing and is better at being creepy and stuff?

Your Image In My Mind

□A 2012Leonardo x detective!stalker!Reader□

I absolutely love this idea and is an interesting twist to what I normally see, thank you for the request Artist! <3

You can request too here!

Socialization; the process of learning to behave in a way that is acceptable to society.

For some damn reason, this had never been something you never unraveled. Even with your clever instincts and intelligence level, you'd always been the odd one out. So, with your intelligence, you've done the only thing to do in your spare time.

Observing others. Analyzing the person of interest as if you'd been assigned to them by a federal organization. No. You were simply fascinated.

Some part of you knew, this was cruel and unnerving. You figured if they don't know, it wouldn't hurt them. Weird thinking for an incredibly clever individual. But things have always been hard for others to understand.

This strange habbit only escalated when you've seen the turtle in blue. Who you learned his name, Leonardo Hamato. You done some research to better understand.

First, seeing him at night, when you were walking back him. Then you heard his adorable voice. He was so leading and organized. He seemed like the most logical one.

"Come on guys, we have to be stealth ninjas. Ninjas are quiet and listen to their leader."

Obvious his brothers don't pay much attention or care for his leadership. Other mutant turtles. Who you soon learned are named, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo.

You wanted to understand him, figure him out. To know every single thing about him, and him not know a single thing about you. It was better than way, a way you couldn't be hurt. It was better.

During this time, you began to keep a journal (GF anyone??) all about him. Everything about him you could find on your own. You wrote it down. His eye color, what he is, favorite color, height, prefered weapon, personality type, speed, stamina, strength, what he watches, ect.

Whatever you found you knew.

You admired his courage and desire to protect those he has responsibility over. You almost sympathize with him, it seemed like he never got a break. No matter how smart you were, how much work you did to climb up the latter in the detective and forensic industry. And at such a young age. No one cared about you.

What you would give to simply hug him, but you know better than that

After one of the battles with the Kraang you always went around. Searching for any DNA to keep to yourself. His spit. His blood. Anything. Saving it as if it was gold. But to you it is.Running it through DNA tests to further expand your knowledge about him.

There was a time you had almost been caught. It was when you made a risky move and they were in a battle with more mutants. But you were so deprived of Leo you needed to go.

Climbing the rooftop, you watching with your camera and journal ready. Impatiently waiting for a clear shot. That is, until, he seen you. His blue eyes staring straight at you. An eyebrow raised.

You panicked, rushing down. You'd been caught! Jumping down the latter and sprinting off into the darkness. Holding your breath, you hear him.

"I see this person, these e/c eyes. I don't know, but they went this way!"

"Leo these are common effects of stress, let's go back."

It happened, he was right there, beside you. Looking for you. He was cute, his curious and paranoid eyes wondering around. Obviously anxious too. You tried your best to stay silent. Then... he left.

"Who knows maybe your going mental, more than you already are."

You're convinced you've been mental your whole life.

It started to become a bigger obsession. He's all you wanted to know more about. It drove you crazier down into the ground. You felt addicted to knowing more about Leo.

When you decide to take a forensic photography course in your school, it just fed your eagerness. You took every picture you can, as accurately as possible. Different fighting poses, facial expressions. Everything.

It didn't help that you started a criminal sketching class. You practically knew how to redraw him from memory.

"Hey-you're Y/n right?" You heard a male voice say to you.

You jumped, surprised, "y-yup! I'm sure that's me." You were so anxious.

"I noticed the someone mentioning something about your remarkable IQ and forensics experience." He said sheepishly.

"Okay? Gotta have those REALLY long study times pay off right?" You tried joking, "I mean, I can always kill-wait u meant know a person in that amount of time I've worked."

"...right. So what are you drawing?"

You almost jumped, "is that a turtle or a lizard?" Well, that was rude. He looks way better than him, you thought.

"Nope." You popped the p, "just....a turtle, human, turtle... but why are we talking about that yknow-" you cleared your throat, "that- what's happening you...."

"Mark." He said bluntly.

"Mark!" You made your hand snap, "I thought I've heard of you before. I mean-that not- not that I knew."

"Oh. On second thought I have somewhere to be." He shrugged and left.

You wanted to punch yourself, but at least you have Leo to look foward to. It was your life. All you wanted to know.

Only loving him through your eyes.

I'm SO sorry this was so short :( but I'm glad you even requested, I've had sm fun writing this!

[theoutcastrogue]

Members of an ethical hacking group called Dragon Sector, including Sergiusz Bazański and Michał Kowalczyk, were called upon by a train repair shop, Serwis Pojazdów Szynowych (SPS), to analyze train software in June 2022. SPS was desperate to figure out what was causing "mysterious failures" that shut down several vehicles owned by Polish train operator the Lower Silesian Railway, Polish infrastructure trade publication Rynek Kolejowy reported. At that point, the shortage of trains had already become "a serious problem" for carriers and passengers, as fewer available cars meant shorter trains and reduced rider capacity, Rynek Kolejowy reported.

Dragon Sector spent two months analyzing the software, finding that "the manufacturer's interference" led to "forced failures and to the fact that the trains did not start," and concluding that bricking the trains "was a deliberate action on Newag's part."

According to Dragon Sector, Newag entered code into the control systems of Impuls trains to stop them from operating if a GPS tracker indicated that the train was parked for several days at an independent repair shop.

The trains "were given the logic that they would not move if they were parked in a specific location in Poland, and these locations were the service hall of SPS and the halls of other similar companies in the industry," Dragon Sector's team alleged. "Even one of the SPS halls, which was still under construction, was included."

The code also allegedly bricked the train if "certain components had been replaced without a manufacturer-approved serial number," 404 Media reported. [...]

404 Media noted that Newag appeared to be following a common playbook in the right-to-repair world where manufacturers intimidate competitor repair shops with threatened lawsuits and unsubstantiated claims about safety risks of third-party repairs. So far, Dragon Sector does not appear intimidated, posting its success on YouTube and discussing its findings at Poland’s Oh My H@ck conference in Warsaw.

[darcytaylor]

Are people mad that Luke Newton has a girlfriend? Or is it something more? A deep dive. Part 3/FINAL

***Because people love to misrepresent what I write, here are the disclaimers up front:

This is the final part of my three-part series unpacking the Luke Newton backlash. If you haven’t read Part 1 or 2, I suggest starting there. I’ve been looking at the cumulative public choices, fan perception, and para-social tension that led to where we are now.

As always - I am not making claims about anyone’s private life or relationship status. I’m analyzing the public response to public behaviour.

This isn’t about hating anyone. It’s about trying to understand how things got so messy - and why those things matter in a fandom space that thrives on speculation and emotion.***

In part one and two of this deep dive I have commented on some of the mistakes that Luke has made in regard to his relationship with Antonia and how the pileup of mistakes has ultimately left fans to be angry. 

This is obviously just some opinions and are not fact. Since I don’t know him personally and never will, this is all just speculation. But what I can say is that I can look at a situation and I think I can form a logical opinion. But who the hell really knows?

Is it very critical of me to be making these? Probably. I mean if I was in the same situation as Luke, I probably would have screwed up a hell of a lot more (but I also don’t have PR training). It’s a tough industry and having all eyes on everything you do would be insane, so I can also sympathize. I also know that I would never want to be in an industry with all eyes on me, I would never put myself in a situation like this to begin with. 

I have critiqued Luke’s earlier actions with situations and people in part one and two - (New Years. Instagram friendships. Saying he’s most like his character. His friend choices. Social media presence. Showcasing dates instead of work. InStyle situation. Admitting to being young and naive in 20s) 

If you are reading this before part one and two I would highly recommend going back and reading the earlier parts first. 

One of the more recent situations that happened was the first infamous Deuxmoi situation. The one where there was a writeup about his relationship, and then Antonia’s mother went and liked some of the comments. While I think what the mother did was inappropriate and unwise. I do think she did it out of love for her daughter. 

Seeing comments degrading someone you love and care about would be tough, but then having it be about your daughter, I can see what lead up to this. Again I don’t want to excuse her behaviour, it was wrong and disgusting, but I can see how and why it all happened. 

This mistake wasn’t completely Luke’s . But it shows that everybody in this situation was very ill-prepared and it is Luke that ultimately has the PR team and the training. Some of the onus falls onto him. 

Since this all happened after people were already mad, the New Years video and the multiple situations that followed as the lead up. I wasn’t shocked to see Luke take an even bigger step back from social media - like FINALLY! 

There had to be some meetings with Luke about this situation and how he could remedy this. 

I was thinking that he would have given his social media to a team to manage, but it seems like he didn’t do that. Not sure if that is the correct move on his end, I guess time will tell. 

The post was taken down (or at least taken off of their main page) and it makes me wonder why? It had to be Luke’s team that made this happen. But what was the cost of that? How did they make that happen? Was there something that was promised? I don’t know enough about what would be involved to even remotely come to a solid conclusion. 

It probably had something to do with Luke wanting to protect Antonia and her family from the hate (legitimate or not). 

This blunder made me sad for every single person involved. Even if I don’t agree with the actions that created it. 

Now looking at the most recent Deuxmoi/People exclusive it can seem like this was the promise that was made? An exclusive with pictures. 

This could also be a continuation of Luke trying to protect Antonia and her family by saying - "the situation wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be, we want to move past this, I want to support Antonia and her family” - Since the article was a Deuxmoi exclusive and right after the other article. I think it’s safe to say that the pictures are connected to that first article, and trying to do some damage control. 

If Deuxmoi was the only drama that had occurred this may have worked. But like I keep saying, the situation is wild because of the multiple mistakes that piled up to create this most recent blow. Much of the backlash toward Antonia seems to stem from the public image that both she and Luke projected - whether intentionally or not.

Now I know people will ask why the pictures and articles had to come out the release day of season 3. The most logical reasoning I have is that they knew this was going to cause outrage. To have season 3 as a  positive to talk about, could help. At least I think they hoped it would help. They saw it as an opportunity to drown out the negative by having something positive at the forefront. Did this work? I don’t think it worked as much as they would have liked. But not all mistake have to be intentional. 

If they were spotted after the release day I believe that it would have been way worse for Luke Newton. He wouldn’t have had anything else to fall back on. 

Summary Questions - 

Do I think all of this will ultimately hurt Luke’s career? No. I think that if he books jobs, he will be just fine. I do think that there will be outrage anytime he is spotted with Antonia, which will always be a slight step back. The choices made have led to lasting perception issues that may take time to shift.

Do I think Nicola knew about the pictures/article that were going to be published? Yes. It’s clear that Nicola and Luke are a team and care for one another. 

If you have any further questions, please feel free to ask!

Also, should I do a deep dive into anything else? Someone mentioned in a comment I should do a deep dive into Nicola’s songs she posted about. Is there anything else? It doesn’t even have to be about Bridgerton or the cast. 

[bouquetface]

Jack Harlow - Astro Predictions

Please take it only as entertainment.

This is using a vedic chart so placements are different from tropical.

Spouse Appearance:

Tan skin complexion. Tall in height. She likely keeps her hair long - it may be wavy/curly.

Spouse Meeting:

His spouse is likely from a different cultural background. It is possible either he or his spouse are far from their birthplace upon meeting. Venus in 8th house suggests relationships begin in secret. 

Spouse Career:

She is a religious/spiritual person. She is likely drawn toward humanitarian causes and topics. She can have the desire to help and heal other people in some way.

But her approach is more analytical + logical than emotional. Naturally, she goes beyond the surface. She gets to the root cause of the problem. She looks for practical solutions.

Her personality seems it would align with careers like vet, psychologist, lawyer, philanthropist. She may have family in these types of fields too. But due to him being famous, I doubt he’d encounter these type of people. Her intelligence and nurturing/healing ability may manifest in her personality rather than her career. Homes/family (or working from home) & health might be a big part of her career too. 

For example: Someone in the fitness industry could be considered a healer. 

She likely has multiple sources of income/jobs as well. 

Spouse Family + Background:

She may come from a difficult upbringing. Her parents may be divorced. She could have experienced ups and downs in her family relationships. She could feel or have felt some emotional or physical distance or coldness from her parents. She may be the eldest or the only child from her parent’s relationship. Childhood could have felt lonely at times.

Her mother may be an argumentative type. On the bright side, her mother likely motivated her ability to work hard. She will likely bring wealth or physical assets (like a home) into the marriage. Venus in 8th H of D1 and D9 usually shows the chart owner will benefit financially directly or indirectly from the marriage. She could be wealthy on her own or come from family money.

There is strong potential that in married life, Jack experiences conflict with his in-laws. This is likely a slow build up rather than instant dislike. He likely gets along with some members but does his best to avoid others. For example: He likes his mother-in-law but is annoyed by his father-in-law. Or he likes his spouse’s cousins/siblings but is easily annoyed by one of her parents.

Mars in Libra in 1st H D9 suggests this conflict would be expressed in passive and indirect ways. He likely handles the situation by simply avoiding the ones he dislikes as much as possible. The conflict is likely due to ego-related problems. 

Spouse Personality:

She is a problem-solver. Her mindset is naturally focused on improvement. The potential negative is she nitpicks problems as she is constantly looking to improve and resolve perceived errors. 

She can appear aloof or shy, however her inner mind is constantly observing and analyzing. 

She is a motherly figure to her loves ones. But this is not expressed in the warm or coddling type of way. She can take on loved ones problems as if they are her own. She can be understanding and non-judgemental for the most part.

Children:

His first child would likely have prominent Venus in their chart - ex: Taurus or Libra rising, sun or moon. Venus conjunct ASC or Moon.

His third child is likely to have prominent Cap or Aqua (Saturn ruled) - sun, rising or moon. 

There is secrecy shown regarding the children especially the second child. He may hide his children. One child may despise the spotlight. 

Married Life:

She is a planner. She is future-orientated. In married life, DK in 4th H shows the spouse will influence their home and family. She’ll take on majority control over all home matters - location, which home is bought or lived in, how the home looks, family’s daily routine. She will be involved in his family ties too. She may be in consistent communication with his side of the fam. Virgo is mutable so she’ll be somewhat flexible but at the end of the day she wants control. Virgo influence gives a spouse who needs control to feel secure. She’ll know when and what needs to be done for the home and family. 

Venus in 8th house shows in married life she can become suspicious and possible secretive. She may become slightly overbearing or controlling. However, this is unlikely to be an irrational response. Because truthfully, his D9 (the chart showing married life) indicates love affairs. 

Dasha Periods:

2030-2031/Age 31-32 - This seems like a year where serious relationship developments are occurring - specifically 2031. Marriage / serious commitments seem likely. But due to Saturn aspect his Venus and Ketu conjunct his 7th house ruler - he may choose to delay marriage.

2042-2043/Age 44-45 - This is another important period for relationships. Big changes can be occurring. If he isn’t already married, this period is favourable for new beginnings in regard to love. Thus, he may choose to marry in this period. It could potentially be a second marriage too.

RANDOM AF but Jack might have arthritis when he’s older and/or issues with his knees/bones.

Anyways if you got to this point, thanks and i hope you enjoyed it. don't take it seriously, it's all in good fun. wishing him the best tho <3

[franollie]

pls pls talk about charlie’s brain being animated 🙏 i would love to hear

oh id loveee to talk about charlie’s brain being animated!!! sorry this took so long to get out i got in my head and couldn't put my thoughts in order for a while!!

animation is an art form that is constantly having to “fight” to be seen as equal to other forms of entertainment. it’s constantly being written off as being childish, lesser than, simple, etc. despite the fact that the medium has proven itself to be more than competent. MUCH LIKE CHARLIE!! there’s also something about charlie’s segment of “the gang saves the day” being a parody of Up, an animated children’s movie (a demographic that is always looked down upon by the industry) that just adds to the layers of being overlooked. Hell, the fact that the episode decides to parody that specific scene from Up adds to the themes because the opening montage in Up is regarded as one of the most moving scenes in animation. But, even then, it's seen as an exception, a rare moment of children's animation being worthy of academy attention. to quote the guardian, "one of the most extraordinary openings to a film, live-action or otherwise, noting that in the context of a larger film it: 'dares to risk alienating' the audience animated films are generally targeted towards, and threatens to topload the drama thereby making the rest of the film a letdown." And really that summarizes my whole point.

but theres more here than just being overlooked!! theres also the vibrancy of animation! the naive wonder and romanticization of mundane day to day life! all of these things are centric characteristics of charlie!!

children’s movies are usually very vibrant and colorful. charlie’s part in “the gang saves the day” is no exception to this! its a very bright and cheerful world. even the more somber scenes are made up of rich purples and blues rather than just tones of grey. and while i’m sure that the color choices in this part of the episode are just parodying Up, i like to think it means charlie’s worldview is simply brighter than the other characters especially when you compare the colors in charlie’s segment to the color grading in every other member’s.

while on the topic of charlies worldview, charlie sees the world in a very straightforward way for someone as unorthodox as he is (it’s part of what makes him such a fun straight-man in my opinion). in “the gang gets analyzed” dee’s therapist even comments on this! his explanations and reasoning behind his actions make sense when you follow his train of thought and understanding of life. veryyy much like how a lot of children's animation is very straight forward with their morals despite not always following "real world logic". people commit acts of heroism and they get love and a happily ever after. charlie saves the waitress, they live happily ever after.

charlie isn’t really a “wildcard” when you break down his character. he’s a very rational man operating with a dysfunctional brain. now. all of that being said, real people can’t follow his lifestyle and be half as functional as charlie is. rcg talk about how absurd and cartoony the whole gang can get, but charlie tends to get the major brunt of the cartoonification beam. so it only makes sense that his ideal world would literally be animated :)

sorry again for taking so long before finally getting around to this, and I apologize if it's unintelligible. charlie and animation is just one of those little things that makes me sooo insane. and unfortunately, the more insane i am about a topic the less sense i make. hopefully you got something interesting out of this though!!!!

[realbeijinger]

Another semi-coherent rant on climate change, the value of idealism, and TGCF (I finally finished!)

Well, I finished Tian Guan Ci Fu. And, oh man, if you read my last post, you’ll know that I was terrified that the entire novel would be a criticism of blind idealism. But I am SO glad I was wrong!!! Looking back on what I wrote before… it’s kind of hilarious how worried I was. I was so sure that I knew where it was going, was so busy preparing myself to be offended/emotionally crushed, that I wouldn’t even entertain the idea that maybe MXTX had a similar worldview to me all along.

In my defense, aside from the line, “Something like saving the common people… although foolish, it is brave,” everything seemed to point toward the idea that trying to do good is pointless. I mean, up until the moment when Xie Lian was lying with a sword in his chest on the streets of Yong’an, all of his efforts to do good had essentially been in vain. He hadn’t been able to help anyone.

And then, when the one guy stopped and gave Xie Lian his hat, I dunno, I just cried. It was so perfect! Like, ugh, damn you, MXTX! So sneaky… destroying us, just to bring us back later!! It was such a small, insignificant win, but it was exactly what Xie Lian (and I) needed. I love the line, “Just one person was enough!” Just one person doing something selfless. It’s enough to give us hope.   

It really resonates with me because I think a lot about how to maintain hope. In terms of the climate crisis, I feel like Xie Lian—completely powerless. I want to stop eating meat, use less plastic, spend more time on environmental activism, but honestly, what do any of these things matter? The meat industry is not going to change because I choose to stop consuming. Even my activism has a completely negligible effect—whether or not I join a protest or write a letter to my congressman will almost certainly not be the deciding factor for any climate legislation, no matter how much effort I put in.  

And yet, I still want to. I love the moment when Xie Lian chooses to get stabbed over and over rather than create a second plague of Human Face Disease, and White No-Face asks him in shock, “Why??”—as in, why would you ever do that? And Xie Lian responds: “I don’t have a reason—just because I want to! Even if I explained it to you… Useless trash like you wouldn’t understand.” This line is so great. Xie Lian can’t explain it to White No-Face, because, in truth, it isn’t entirely logical. It can’t be explained by reason. I want to do my measly, unimportant part to help the world… because I want to. Because it feels right. Because it’s my way of keeping my heart, of maintaining faith that there is some good in this world worth upholding. (As an aside, I love how the English title of the live action drama—which we may never get to see, God damn censorship!!!!—is called “Eternal Faith.” Of course it refers to Hua Cheng and Xie Lian’s faith in each other, but I think it also means having eternal faith in the value of doing good, despite centuries of experience that seem to show its pointlessness.)

As I talked about in my last post, if you zoom out far enough, nothing really seems to matter. Everything we love and care about will one day be gone. And yet, I believe we still have to act like it matters. This is the basic tenant of existentialism, and I think MXTX portrays this philosophical paradox really beautifully.

It’s funny, because I think MXTX has a lot of profound things to say, but in an interview I read, she warned against viewing her work too deeply, saying, “I am not a guru.” I get that she may not want the responsibility of giving people spiritual advice, but I do think she presents some really fascinating, really novel, philosophical ideas. So, sorry MXTX, but I’m about to analyze TGCF like it’s a piece of freakin scripture. Soo here we go…

The main theme she comes back to again and again is that fortune is limited, so the only way you can do good for others is by taking fortune from somebody else. Which leads the characters to a bunch of ethically impossible choices: the people of Yong’an and the people of Xianle can’t all be saved (Xie Lian must choose who to help), neither can the people of Wuyong and the surrounding kingdoms (Prince of Wuyong must choose), and Shi Wudu can’t save his brother from a tragic fate without taking fortune from an innocent person. When the characters try to avoid choosing, and try to “play God” by creating a “third path,” it just invites disaster.

But is this really true? Is fortune actually limited? It’s an idea that reminds me of Buddhism and Daoism, but also seems kind of revolutionary… (I like to think I know something about Chinese philosophy but it could certainly be a thing and I don’t know). I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe in limited resources, and the idea that nature tends toward balance. I think conceiving of it this way, as a pool of fortune, is really interesting.   

It reminds me of this Meme:

In other words, who is the protagonist and who is the villain is entirely based on perspective. And, according to the laws of nature, we all must survive by eating others, or causing others to starve (i.e. avoiding being eaten).

I tried to think if this is really true in all areas of life. I’m a teacher, and one of the ways I convince myself that I am doing good in the world is by helping my students—preparing them well for college so that they can get into good schools and follow their dreams. But then, is this just taking fortune from others? If I do prepare my students well, and as a result they all get into top universities, does that mean they are taking spots away from other students? Am I simply just helping “my own,” at the expense of others?

One place where I see this concept play out very clearly is with our modern, industrialized society. As I mentioned in my last post, we live in a world of abundance. Most of us have enough food to eat, live in houses with electricity and running water, and don’t worry about a whole host of diseases endured by our ancestors. It seems we have done what Xie Lian couldn’t—we have expanded the well of fortune for most of humanity.

But this fortune wasn’t spontaneously created. It was taken from other species. It was borrowed against our own future, when climate change will likely destroy this world of abundance we have created, causing untold suffering. In truth, when it comes to prosperity, there is no such thing as a free lunch.   

Even now, when we ought to be enjoying our fortune, most of us are not happy. We want other things. We take food, clothing, and shelter for granted, creating even bigger, more lofty demands—a bigger car, a better house, a machine that’s sole purpose is to make bread. In fact, it seems like whenever we make things “better,” the goalposts just move. I recently read a book called Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, which mentioned that with the advent of washing machines and vacuum cleaners, everyone assumed there would be more free time. Yet, the real outcome was that standards of cleanliness just changed. Suddenly, people expected you to wear fresh clothes every day and have a perfectly dust-free home, which meant spending just as much time cleaning as in the past.     

And according to psychologists, getting what we want doesn’t really make us happier. Instead, something like getting a promotion causes our happiness to spike, before it quickly returns to baseline. The psychologist Dan Gilbert writes that the purpose of our emotions is to act like a compass—to tell us which direction to go in. If you feel good, you can continue the way you are going. If you feel bad, you should probably turn—make a change. But if you get what you want and become permanently happy, your compass is now broken. It’s stuck in one direction and becomes useless.

All of this is very Buddhist, of course. Suffering is not caused by our external circumstances, but our desire to change them.

Like I said, I don’t necessarily believe in “fate” or “fortune.” But I believe this all points to something deeper that MXTX is getting at: which is that we cannot fundamentally make a better world, for the common people, or for anyone. This idea of “better” doesn’t really exist. The world is as it is. Trying to alter that is like playing God. And like Xie Lian says, “In this world, there are no true gods…”  

So, what do we do? How can we survive this absurdist tragedy of life? I don’t think we can just throw up our hands and not give a shit—that way lies depression and Jun Wu-style cruelty. We cannot lose our heart. But we also can’t try to fix everything.

One thing I find a bit difficult about MXTX is she is very clear about the impossible situations our characters find themselves in, but not really clear about the solution. She seems critical of the characters’ actions (I’m thinking also of Wei Wuxian here), but what exactly does she think they should have done? In other words, what is the point?

I spent a long time thinking about this. And I realized that Xie Lian was able to get back on his feet, find happiness and make peace with himself. How did he do this? Ultimately, I see Xie Lian’s solution as having three parts: self-sacrifice, gratitude, and purpose. Which all sounds very academic and maybe not that profound on an emotional level. But hear me out. Because, in the end, I think these choices are incredibly beautiful. They are the kind of thing that make me feel like reading TGCF was actually a spiritual experience, no matter what MXTX says. That makes me admire Xie Lian and want to follow him (like the God he is).

Okay so first: self-sacrifice. If fortune is limited, and the only way to make others’ lives better is to take fortune from someplace else, then there is really only one place you can take it from without hurting others—yourself.

So, part of Xie Lian’s solution is to take fortune from himself and give it to others. It’s why he asks for a cursed shackle that disperses his fortune, so that his fortune will naturally flow to those around him. It’s, of course, a very small thing. He is no longer playing God, or trying to “fix” the world on a grand scale. He is simply, in his own, quiet way, serving the common people.

My desire to give up meat and to spend more time on activism—these things feel like big sacrifices for me. And yet, they will have a very small impact on the greater situation in the world. They’re a drop in the ocean. I still want to do it, but it’s hard. It’s hard to care, or think that these things matter. Yet, this is the trade-off Xie Lian was willing to make. I really admire him for it.   

I believe self-sacrifice is actually a really important, beautiful thing, that our society has forgotten the value of. We are individualistic—obsessed with our own wants. As I mentioned previously, our expectations have risen, so we buy and buy and buy. We are unwilling to rein in our consumption. I know a lot of people baulk at lifestyle changes as a solution to the climate crisis, and I agree that putting pressure on individuals instead of governments or corporations is misguided. But, first of all, there simply aren’t enough resources on earth to sustain our current levels of consumption. And, second… I don’t think we can completely let individuals off the hook. What is society anyway, but a collection of individuals? If we are going to address this thing, it’s going to take a massive movement—bigger than the civil rights movement or the works’ rights movement or the women’s movement. It’s going to take millions of people worldwide getting out of their own heads, their own lives, and concerning themselves with the greater good. That requires immense sacrifice.

Which takes me to gratitude. In order to be willing to sacrifice, you have to appreciate what you already have.

People often talk about gratitude these days as a path to mental health. Instinctively, it sounds like an uplifting, positive thing. And it is… but it also entails having a relatively negative worldview. It means remembering all the horrible things that exist in this world which we are lucky enough to avoid on a daily basis. You stepped in some dog shit? Well, that sucks, but you could have stepped into an open manhole and broken your neck! So! That’s something to be grateful for.  

We are all so lucky. I’m sure everyone reading this has pains and traumas and challenges. This isn’t to diminish those, but, I hope, at least we all have at least one person to love. That’s all Hua Cheng had, and it’s what kept him going. Just one person was enough. And most of us, I hope, get to eat food every day, get to sleep in a bed, get to play video games or read novels or write poetry when we are sad. Not everyone gets those things.  

Xie Lian, of course, was the king of low expectations, because he knew his future was going to be bad. He had intentionally accepted bad luck for a lifetime. So, there was no point in hoping for things to get better.

I think this attitude is best shown by his interaction with the Venerable of Empty words. The Venerable of Empty Words feeds off people’s fears. But Xie Lian didn’t really have any. When the Venerable of Empty Words warned him that his hut will collapse in two months, his response is, “Two months? If it’s still standing in seven days, then it’ll be a real miracle.” Because his expectations are so low, he’s essentially immune to fear. I can’t help but think that if you could really think this way, it would be a kind of superpower. It reminds me of the famous quote by spiritual teacher Krishnamurti, “Do you know what my secret is? You see, I don’t mind what happens.”

And so Xie Lian is okay with everything. He can sleep anywhere, crash boulders on his chest for money, not eat for three days, regularly suffer corpse poisoning, and still be okay.

Which leads to my third point: purpose. Xie Lian is able to endure such hardship because his expectations are low, but also he knows all his suffering has a purpose. “If I am to become a God of misfortune, then so be it,” he says. “As long as I know deep down that I am not.” He is okay with being laughed at or avoided for his bad luck, because deep down he knows he is doing the right thing. People can withstand a great deal if they feel their suffering has meaning. In Man’s Search for Meaning, the psychiatrist Victor Frankl’s writes about the horrors of living through a concentration camp, and how over and over, it was creating purpose that allowed him, and others, to find motivation to survive. Which I think has an important lesson for self-sacrifice. People are willing to sacrifice a lot, if they feel their sacrifice has purpose.

I get it when MXTX says that she is not a guru, and maybe it’s a lot to ask of a danmei novel to take spiritual advice from it. The book wasn’t necessarily perfect, and I do have some critiques (which I was gonna add here, but this thing is already wayyy too long). But… I do think I found something really meaningful in this story—some inspiration. I want to follow Xie Lian’s example, and live with gratitude and acceptance, while keeping my faith in doing the right thing. In other words, WWXLD! (What Would Xie Lian Do?)

[hcgossips]

Welcome to planet "BullShit"!

What, where, how...

What should you say to people or explain to them that the opinion they hold is nonsense? Where does this nonsense come from that everything must be a big conspiracy?

How can we bring these people back to reality? Critical thinking is a fact-based process of reflection, free from the influence of emotions or opinions. It involves applying logical principles and careful argumentation when analyzing and discussing information, claims, and beliefs. Is HC the victim? He is not a young actress who was forced into sxx by Weinstein and exploited in Hollywood to become famous. He was already known and was the star of a series that had its own fan base. I do not see HC as a victim! The first season of The Witscher went well, and he was still likable and friendly. During the filming of the second season, he already appeared arrogant and conceited. That was the beginning of HC's downfall.

Whether this shit show started as PR and whether there was a contract – no one knows. But it seems plausible given his past, and it is known and confirmed by people in the industrie that there are contracts and PR relationships in Hollywood. Contracts can be changed. PR firms are paid by their clients to show the artist all the possibilities of PR work, so they can choose the appropriate strategy together. An artist should understand why they give one interview and not another. There must be a clear agreement on how much private life is brought into the public eye and an explanation of what the long-term consequences might be. But it always depends on the artist and what they bring to the table. The strategy should be based on that. This means: HC can change contracts – he certainly has good lawyers in the UK and the USA. He can switch PR agencies and management if he is dissatisfied – lawyers! These wild speculations lead nowhere; HE can decide freely. He does that with his steak and BBQ posts as well. Whether "Bane" wore a fake belly, he has to deal with that. Maybe they adopted and don’t want it to be known. If he is being manipulated or even blackmailed by Bane – he has to deal with that too (lawyers?). Don’t be so detached from reality. It harms you and does no one any good. I write this not to annoy anyone – I like neither Bane nor HC. But you harm yourselves with such strange statements. That’s how the two of them make a living – that’s all they have!

Again: NO ONE CAN BE MANIPULATED AND FORCED FOR SO LONG TO DO THINGS AGAINST THEIR WILL THAT THEY DO NOT WANT TO DO!!

I think you are misunderstanding the content of the page or haven't read all the posts. But, thank you for your concern about my sanity. Don't worry, I'm fine. This page is entertainment. Real or PR, this circus INVITES US to talk about it. There will always be the believers defending it and the non believers supposing, guessing, perceiving and intuiting. The couple WANTS people talking about it. After four years they got used to it. But, a doubt just came to me: Are you really worried about the sanity of the ones intuiting and gossiping or actually, trying to diminish the mess and sparing the couple or you worried about Cavill's sanity?

[fish-factory]

Made with Love - Cecil Stedman x Donald Ferguson

Word count: 2605

Chapter: 3/?

a/n: Jason is a made up character for a backstory. Also I post this on ao3.

Donald was a bit nervous for Friday. It was only his second day working at La Petite Merde and Friday was bound to be busy. He had worked at sports bars on game night, and he could handle that. Sure, he might need a drink after, but being able to handle a fast paced environment is a must in the restaurant industry. But working at a sports bar and a 3 Michelin star restaurant on busy nights is completely different. At the sports bar, if your dish is a little off but still edible, it gets sent out. But a Michelin star restaurant requires perfection no matter how many orders are piled up or how behind you are. 

Nevertheless, he needed to do it. Not just because he needed to pay bills but to prove to himself he can do it. As he walked into work he saw three people had gotten there before him. Cecil, the buff man he saw yesterday, and another man with a lean but built frame and a huge scar across his left eye. To say he looked intimidating would be an understatement. 

“You must be Donald! Welcome to the family.”

This must be the executive chef, Radcliffe. The two were at the stoves with the other new hire, most likely giving him the same walkthrough Donald got the day before. 

“It’s an honor to work here, chef”

The two shook hands and then Donald got to prepping his own station.

“Well, Cecil, I’ll leave you to train him if that’s alright.”

“Yes, chef”

Cecil turned to Donald for a moment but said nothing, before resuming the new man’s training. Donald couldn’t tell why but without even meeting him, he was already a bit annoyed by his presence. Their stations were right next to each other and his large frame often intruded into Donald’s space. 

“Donald, this is Abraham. He’s the new rotisseur. I’ll be helping him out today, so I’ll be close if you need me.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Oh and, Radcliffe will be doing checks today since I’ll be busy helping Abraham.” 

The morning went the same as yesterday with more coworkers filing in and Donald prepping more sauces. He needed to make Espagnole sauce which was a bit more labor intensive compared to the others, but it was worth it for the variety of daughter sauces you could make from it. 

Donald missed Cecil being rotisseur yesterday. He loved watching him cook. He made everything look effortless. Cecil was still at the station today, but he was mostly blocked by Abraham. This only made Donald even more annoyed at him. Logically, he knew he was being weird and shouldn’t care, but the illogical side of him just wanted the entire kitchen to go away, so it was just him and Cecil in the kitchen. It brought back the same feelings he had in culinary school when he got to see his classmate, Jason, cook. 

Lunch starts and the kitchen kicks back into its organized frenzy of making dishes and timing them so they all come out to the table at the same time, now multiply that by 20 tables. Donald had a good pace and had hardly fallen behind on sauces. Over the shouts of orders and ‘corner’s Donald could make out Radcliffe starting his checks of each station. He couldn’t hear exactly what was said but based on people’s mood afterward, it wasn’t good. 

Radcliffe approached Donald’s station, spoon in hand, to see how the Espagnole sauce was coming along. Donald thought it looked alright, but he couldn’t help the anxiety he felt rising in him. Radcliffe tasted the sauce, and Donald tried analyzing his facial expression for a hint of how it turned out. 

“Remake it.”

“What’s wrong with it, chef?”

“Your heat is too high. The sauce is broken.” 

“I’ll restart it right away, chef!”

He was frustrated having to completely restart his sauce. The Friday rush was difficult enough as his, now he would be even further behind. Still, Donald knew not to take it too personally. He knew when starting here that the chef would have high expectations. Out of the corner of his eye, he could’ve sworn he saw Cecil look at him with an expression he couldn’t read. 

Donald started remaking the sauce, this time being extra careful to keep the heat low and not let it cook for too long. Others started calling for his sauce and he had to shout back that it was being remade. Guilt crawled its way up inside Donald as he was the reason orders started being delayed. Finally, Donald finished the sauce. He had a quick taste and thought it was delicious. That didn’t quell his fear though when Radcliffe came back to try the new sauce. Radcliffe tasted it again and sighed. 

“You think this is better? Did you even follow the recipe?”

Radcliffe glared at Donald. It was a steely stare that made Donald stumble over his words. Like a kid getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. 

“Y-Yes, chef. I thought I was? I lowered the heat, so it didn’t break this time.”

“Do you think this is fun? That this is just like cooking in your kitchen at home?”

“No, chef!”

“Then act like it. Taste it again, figure out what’s wrong, and come dinnertime I better not see you making the same mistake. For the sake of time, this will just have to do.”

“Yes, chef.”

The loud kitchen seemed to suddenly fall quiet. As if everyone stopped what they were doing to listen in on Donald fucking up. It felt humiliating. Donald avoided looking in Cecil’s general direction in fear that he’d look back in disappointment or anger. 

Lunch came and went. Donald could finally ease up a bit while Abraham and Cecil made lunch together. The other chefs were chatting about their lives. There was a sense of comradery that formed from working in a high stress environment like a kitchen. Lunch today was a rosemary garlic steak with a side of green beans. Everyone sat at one table to relish in its taste and get rejuvenated before dinner. Donald noticed how Cecil also seemed to enjoy the lunch prepared today. 

Eve started the conversation,” This steak is great Abraham! You really cooked it to the perfect rarity. I nearly burnt a salmon during lunch.”

There was a light laughter from the joke. Not making fun of Eve but in understanding that sometimes you fuck up. 

Rudy continued,” I nearly put an apple cider vinaigrette into a caesar salad.” 

“Haha well at least you didn’t mess up the espagnole twice, right Donald?” 

Radcliffe’s comment seemed light hearted, as if he was just continuing the fun banter, but that comment stung.

“Ha ha… right, chef.”

Donald tried to sound like he didn’t take it personally. Like he could take a joke, but the table fell into an awkward silence. The silence was finally broken by Cecil of all people. 

“So, Abraham, how did you like the lunch shift?”

It was basic small talk, clearly trying to shift the conversation away from the awkward passive aggressive remark made by Radcliffe. Donald didn’t know if he should feel grateful or embarrassed that someone else needed to ‘rescue’ him from an awkward situation. 

He continued his lunch in silence, just choosing to listen to the other conversations rather than join them. The only other person to not speak for the duration of lunch was Cecil. Donald looked up to Cecil for a moment and they made eye contact. He tried to look as if saying thank you, but wasn’t sure if his expression got the point across. 

Time kept ticking and eventually it was dinner time. Donald started to tense up again, not knowing what to expect. He still wasn’t sure what exactly was wrong with the sauce, and he was too nervous to ask Radcliffe in fear of angering him again. Hesitenaly, Donald made his way back to his station and began prepping sauces. Back at the stoves stood Cecil, who looked like he wanted to say something. But he chose silence. 

Cecil was conflicted about today. He was happy to finally have both saucier and rotisseur positions filled, but he was also nervous about Radcliffe coming back. He just wanted to get back into his usual routine. Most of his coworkers seemed to like when things changed a bit. Everyday being the same would get mind numbingly boring, but Cecil was a creature of habit. Not because he didn’t get bored of doing the same thing everyday, but because consistency meant he always knew what to expect. 

Abraham and Donald were just two people he would have to adjust to over time. At least the very start of his morning was the same. Being alone in the clean kitchen. Until Radcliffe came into work. 

“It’s only been three days, but it feels like eternity since I’ve been here.”

“ This restaurant sinks its claws into everyone.”

“HA. Missed you too Cecil. By the way, how’s the new hires?”

“Donald started yesterday and did well. Abraham starts today. I’m guessing I’ll be training him.”

“If you don’t mind. I have a lot to catch up on.”

The door creaked open and in came Abraham. Cecil began the training process to get him ready for the busy day ahead. Friday was a bad day to start someone, but Abraham has worked at a Michelin star restaurant before, so he should be fine. Abraham was stoic and stern but still friendly. He clearly took his job seriously which is something Cecil respected. 

Not long after Donald arrived and was introduced to Radcliffe and Abraham. Cecil was curious to see how Donald would do today, especially how he’d get along with Radcliffe.

“Donald, this is Abraham. He’s the new rotisseur. I’ll be helping him out today, so I’ll be close if you need me.”

“Yes, chef.”

“Oh and, Radcliffe will be doing checks today since I’ll be busy helping Abraham.” 

Cecil decided to give a slight warning to Donald, just to be prepared for the worst, but looking back, he was a bit too vague. The morning continued as normal while Cecil prepared some of the meats with Abraham. Every now and then he’d glance over at Donald to see how he was doing, and he could’ve sworn sometimes Donald glanced at him, too. 

The clock struck 12:00 and customers started entering the restaurant. Cecil mainly stayed around the stove to keep an eye on Abraham and Donald. The kitchen was a little behind, but on a Friday, that was normal. Cecil could overhear Radcliffe making his rounds throughout the kitchen. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but Cecil knew it probably wasn’t anything good. 

Radcliffe eventually got to Donald’s station. Based on Donald’s facial expression and the fact that he had to dump his sauce, Cecil could tell it didn’t go well. But it was normal to need to remake a dish every once in a while, especially when you’re just starting. And especially when you’re working with Radcliffe, so Cecil thought nothing of it. Abraham had been keeping a good pace, and Cecil worked on chopping vegetables to help the kitchen pick up pace. 

The monotony of working on the same meals for over a decade makes it easy for your mind to wander. Sometimes Cecil just completely zones out and thinks of nothing, pure muscle memory guiding him through his dish. Other times it goes to things he’d rather not think about. Like how the previous saucier and rotisseur both quit at the same time. 

Cecil didn’t usually feel guilt for his actions. Was it a product of his upbringing? A lack of empathy after being berated by chefs when he was just starting? Who knows. All Cecil did know was that this nagging feeling he messed up wouldn’t go away. Losing Mark was difficult. He was a great saucier. And it makes sense his father, Nolan, would quit with him. Cecil mentally chastises himself for not handling the situation with more care. Then he wouldn’t have to go through the stress of training new people. A booming voice brought Cecil back to reality.  

“You think this is better? Did you even follow the recipe?”

Radcliffe was really laying into Donald. It was normal for Radcliffe to be extra hard on new hires. If they could survive him at his meanest, then they could survive anything. Cecil had learned to just ignore it, even when it was Radcliffe shouting at him. So Cecil said nothing. 

After lunch, it was time for all the kitchen staff to get a break and eat. The chatter at the table was normal. Cecil wasn’t much of a talker. He enjoyed just listening to what his coworkers had to say. His expression might not show it, but he did like hearing them get along. Spending all day working together with the same people and going through the same troubles really brings people together, even people you normally wouldn’t be friends with. 

“Haha well at least you didn’t mess up the espagnole twice, right Donald?” 

“Ha ha… right, chef.”

Cecil didn’t really comprehend what Radcliffe had said until the table fell to a deafening silence. He looked up at Donald who was now looking down, clearly uncomfortable. Cecil could tolerate Radcliffe being rude in the kitchen, since it at least led to chefs improving, but lunch was a time for destressing and bonding in Cecil’s eyes. Telling that to Radcliffe would only piss him off more, so Cecil did what he thought best to ease the growing tension. 

“So, Abraham, how did you like the lunch shift?”

And then the conversations resumed. Cecil looked up to see Donald staring back. It was hard to tell what his facial expression meant due to his sunglasses, but Cecil thought it looked a bit like relief. Cecil didn’t say another word for the rest of lunch. 

As everyone began prepping for the dinner rush, Cecil pulled Radcliffe aside to talk. 

“About what you said to Donald. I think that was going too far.”

“Since when did you care about me going too far?”

“I’m saying, just leave it in the kitchen. Don’t bring it to lunchtime.”

“Listen Cecil, I get you’re feeling uneasy about how you left things with Mark, but this is just a part of working in a kitchen.  I’m mean. I know what they say behind my back. But look at how much these chefs have grown after being pushed down.”

Cecil didn’t speak for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Why did he care so much? He’s never said anything before. His fight with Mark must’ve affected him worse than he thought. 

“I just think, chef, that lunchtime should be for building the team up. Not putting them down.”

“Well when you’re executive chef, you can make that call.”

“Executive chef?”

But Radcliffe had already left before Cecil could get a response. It’s a natural progression to go from chef de cuisine to executive chef, but the thought of it happening anytime soon hadn’t crossed Cecil’s mind. Till now. Was Radcliffe retiring soon? 

Cecil made his way back to the kitchen. He saw Donald standing before his station looking like a deer in headlights. A part of Cecil thought he should say something, to try and ease his stress. But his talk with Radcliffe and becoming executive chef made him falter, so instead they just exchanged glances. It would be dinner soon and Cecil needed to worry about more pressing things. 

[popmusicu]

About Sabrina Carpenter

When I went to the first class and Professor Simon handed me the marker asking me to write an artist on the board, the very first one I thought of was Sabrina Carpenter. I never imagined it would become such a big topic to talk about. I live by the phrase “it's never too late,” and that’s the reason I decided to share now my opinion on Sabrina Carpenter and her music—and because I’m kind of shy when it comes to talk in class. But first, I’m going to talk about my perspective on music these few weeks and how it has changed.

As the classes went by—especially the one where the center of the discussion was the one and only Sabrina Carpenter—I started to reflect more deeply on the music I listen to. I’m a big fan of a lot of artists, but I had never really questioned why I started listening to them. The very first thought I had was that, many times, I like an artist simply because they are trendy at the moment and that made me realized I was being superficial about my tastes, I felt ashamed.

I consider myself a musician—I like to play songs on the guitar and sing them, and I also know how to play a few classic pieces on the piano. These recent feelings of shame have made me rethink everything about my musical tastes and everything I thought I knew about them. I felt a bit disappointed, but after a few days with this thought in mind, I stopped caring so much about the logical reason behind liking an artist. Of course, there are some artists I like because of what they do or have done—or dislike for the same reason—but instead of focusing on that, I began thinking more about how their music makes me feel. And this is where Sabrina comes in.

I watched a lot of videos about these topics to feel more confident in what I write. One video I especially liked was from a YouTube channel called It Girl Playbook, and the video was titled Sabrina Carpenter Mindset—don’t judge my sources. The way they portrayed the artist made me realize I had been approaching the topic the wrong way. It was such a relief, because I was becoming too serious about it. And while it’s totally fine to analyze the artist if it resonates with you, in my case, it just didn’t make me feel good.

They show Sabrina by the way she expresses herself through her music, she enjoys it especially the catchy ones, she fits into some stereotypes but no ones like her honestly. She was a Disney Star and that made her recognized in acting and singing but I feel like if people still like the artists when they’re out of Disney is because they’re doing good. Yes, she had it easy in a way by being in that Industry but still she is a person that wants her music to be known.

Sabrina makes life look easy with her music, because makes you feel understandable, in that way I can take daily things more lightly. She doesn’t take herself seriously and she is always joking in her songs that’s what I like about her. She makes me want to dance or even perform her songs just by the beat of it.

One of the quotes that I liked the most of the video is “confidence doesn’t have to be loud and femininity doesn’t have to be fragile”, even though people don’t like her she still is a role model because of how she shows herself in stage or videos, with that mindset she attracts attention

So that’s how Sabrina has changed the way I feel and perceive music in these past few weeks. Hope you like it.

Magdalena Rojas Martínez